The Other

I can handle a bit of science fiction/fantasy. I venture this peculiar piece of information because I have been working my way through the estimable BBC rendition of His Dark Materials, and I have also re-watched the original 1956 version of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Otherness is an important element of both texts, different as they may be in their milieu. 

Invasion is a cheap studio product that properly became a cult hit and still works to this day, though not as effectively on later viewings as on the first. There is no shame in that - even the very best piece of the fantastic, Pan's Labyrinth, loses some of its lustre on repeated consumptions. Reactions to the 1956 film are gloriously mixed - mostly admiring but disputatious as to which side (if either) of the McCarthyite divide it sits. All good critical fun. Genuinely creepy without ever resorting to gore and, for this consumer at least, a spirited defence of the need for otherness. 74/100. 

Although it is a television production, the epic BBC His Dark Materials paints on an even broader canvas. I am an admirer of Pullman's source novels, definitley misunderstood by those who dismiss them as children's fiction. I was decidedly not an admirer of the botched 2007 cinema version, The Golden Compass. This is far better. Don't get me wrong - Pulmman's plotting can sometimes be sketchy and the adaptation does not attempt to hide this. However this remains high quality stuff from serious source material. A particular word for Ruth Wilson who is supreme as Mrs Coulter. So much better than the over-hyped Nicole Kidman in the movie version.

I am no ally of Pullman on the subject of organised religion but he richly deserves a wide readership and should no more be banned than should The Satanic Verses. There, I've said it now.  

Treatments Of Antarctica

I have enjoyed two films about famously flawed men who were defined by their quests to be the first to reach the South Pole. Scott of the Antarctic is a sombre 1948 account of this British hero's gallant second place in the race - gallant but borne down by crucial tactical errors. Amundsen is a 2019 Norwegian production celebrating (though that is probably not quite the best word) the man who not only got there first but, unlike Scott, came back alive.

Scott of the Antarctic has been seen as a monument to the British stiff upper lip and it certainly pays homage to the near-crazed stoicism of Scott and his four compasnions on the final push to the Pole. However the film does allow itself a mild critical note, best symbolized by Scott's wry observation of the dogs' paw prints at the Pole - Amundsen had wisely relied on sled-dogs. 

Amundsen is a more modern piece, concentrating less on the ice-bound heroism of the hero than it does on the egomania that inevitably drives such people. Its flashback story-telling can feel a little clunky but it is a film that does its work serviceably. Nor does it fight shy of highlighting the beastly reaction of the British establishment to Amundsen's achievement.

Where you have to stop and marvel is with the realisation that the core events that made these two principals so famous unfolded only eleven decades ago. In the intervening time there have been two global wars and man has developed the ability to destroy his own planet, an unwanted talent he shows little inclination to abandon. Both films get 65/100 and I recommend taking them as companion pieces - both are on iPlayer.      

A Minor Redemption

You may have noticed that I have been oddly silent about the state of my beloved game of rugby union. I must confess that my reticence has reflected a disillusionment with the grand old sport. The amateur game is dying on its feet. This is a societal tragedy. The professional game is a sad mess of hubris and protectionism. Worst of all, the great signifier of professional rugby is the wretched caterpillar ruck - a tactic born of fear and intellectual timidity.

It is therfore a delight to report that last night I watched a good game of professional rugby union - fleet, skilful and passionate. Well done Clermont and the victorious Leicester Tigers. It can be done.

And while we're on the subject I suppose I ought to unleash my verdict on the end of Eddie Jones' tenure as England coach. More seasoned (bored?) readers of this blog will recall that I had, despite my innate conservatism, been a member of the Jones Must Go camp. If you look at his record, you discover that he always outstays his welcome and it all ends in tears. The carefully cultivated chippy Aussie image becomes a tired act and he disappears up his own tactical behind. He was responsible for the single best England performance of my lifetime, the evisceration of New Zealand at RWC 19, yet only a week later oversaw the dire capitulation to South Africa. He is a high-class coach but, in the final analysis, you do wonder if he had started to believe some of his own oft-spouted guff. 

Twelve Films At Christmas - 11 & 12

I know it's not Christmas anymore (unless perhaps you are of an Orthodox persuasion) but I promise you I watched these films within earshot of trhe festive season, indeed on the very weekend that the Groupie (with my usual minimal assistance) committed the decorations back to the meticulously labelled boxes. 

What to make of Dune? I have never seen the much-derided previous attempt to film this tale, nor have I read Herbert's novel so I came to the 2021 movie with no preconceptions. Well, here's the news - there's a lot of sand about and a lot of runish gobbledegook. It has peculiar echoes of Star Wars type stuff - this is in fact a trifle unfair because the source novel easily predates the George Lucas fantasy. On top of all that sand the special effects are, well, bloody special. But it's all a bit ponderous. By no means a bad film and I'll probably watch the sequel we are promised. 61/100.

The Harry Potter prequel saga Fantastic Beasts has taken a bit of a beating. Johnny Depp had to be taken out of the cast as his personal life unravelled rather publicly. J.K. Rowling managed to fall foul of the Thought Police for no convincing reason. Furthermore the second instalment (after a sufficient but not great opener), The Crimes of Grindelwald, was a right old mess of a picture. Good news for wizarding fans is that part three, The Secrets of Dumbledore, serves to resuscitate the project. It's not great and it has its longeurs but it is perfectly serviceable. 59/100.

So that's it for another year.

 

Twelve Films At Christmas - 8, 9 & 10

The Fulll Monty - no plot synopsis is needed. You will no doubt have seen the film as often as have I. It is, I now realise, vaguely patronising and not a little exploitative but not on a scale that diminishes the artistic achievement. I have, I'm sure, reveiewed it before so I won't compromise myself by offering a new rating. All that need be said is that it keeeps its power to engage and amuse.

Another movie that I have reviewed before and one I would venture couldn't get made now. It's sexual politics are all askew. I don't begin to dispute that but it still sits as my favourite Hollywood musical, over and above even Singin' in the Rain. I'm talking about Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. Worth the price of admisssion just for the barn-raising scene. 

And just to prove that I am not stuck in permanent loop, returning jaded to the the same old films, we have something I hadn't seen before. The Duke is a far more important movie than it pretends to be. Indeed it is the absolute lack of pretension that makes its effect so notable. At its centre is a performance of comedy, tenderness and good faith from Jim Broadbent. In support, Helen Mirren is predictably superb. Reviews had led me to expect something slight and pleasing. Wrong. This film has heft and wears it well. 77/100.