The Grand Budapest Hotel | Review

After being mesmerised by Wes Anderson’s ''Moonrise Kingdom'', back in 2012, it was only inevitable that I would gravitate to Anderson’s most recent work, The Grand Budapest Hotel. In this case, the title pronounces a lot about the film. Particularly the adjective grand. Not good. Not even great. But truly grand. This is the general opinion regarding the critically acclaimed comedy. From the meticulously perfect sets, and quirky script, to the ascetically pleasing visuals, the film stays true to Anderson’s style... in a grand fashion.

Those familiar with Wes Anderson will now know that his style needs no introduction. So much has been written or discussed about his idiosyncrasy, that there are scarcely any adjectives left in which to describe his undeniably unique approach to filmmaking and storytelling. Those that find him grandiose or ostentatious will likely want to avoid this (his eight film) while those that rejoice in his work will no doubt find this a celebration of his artistry and a boisterous festivity.

During the 1960's, a young author (Jude Law) visits The Grand Budapest Hotel - one of Europe's most dated and decaying establishments. Here, he meets it's unusual owner M. Moustafa (F. Murray Abraham) who shares with him, his lobby boy past (Tony Revolori) and how he came to know the exuberant and flamboyant M. Gustave (Ralph Fiennes); leading him through their adventures they shared in the hotel.

As much as Anderson's style is so well known now, so too is the consistent company of  respected actors that he's able to amass. All-be-it in cameo roles, his most reliable trio from the early days of his career in Wilson, Schwartzman and Murray return, once again. His mid-career actors like Goldblum, Dafoe and Brody make further appearances while Swinton, Norton and Keitel add themselves to the mix again following "Moonrise Kingdom". Their roles may be small but no matter how small, it's still great to see such a wonderful ensemble of actors all get the chance to showcase their talents and contribute to the work. However, it's the newcomer in Fiennes that's the main focus feature and the true star of the show. His performance is charming and his comedic-timing, note perfect. His ability to accentuate a simple word of profanity can, at times, produce some genuinely hilarious moments.

Another one who plays a major role in the proceedings is Robert Yoeman, with sublimely colourful work in cinematographer. The film is a real feast for the eyes and as Anderson maintains a brisk pace while juggling numerous characters narratives and plots, Yoeman allows him to create his illusion on a wondrous palette of delicacies. From the pastel Mendel's cakes to low toned back drops, to the hotel itself, the shade never faulters to blend seamlessly, making cinematic experience even more enjoyable.

| 5 Essentials for surviving a Horror film |

Its now officially October. This can only mean one thing… Halloween. With halloween, comes a plethora of gore-filled, bloodcurdling and chilling horror films, films we cant help but watch in the month. However, we have all shouted at the screen ‘don’t go in there!’, as the dumb blonde enters the cellar. We’ve all spectated from a third party perspective in entertainment. But how would we feel about being in the films ourselves, what would we take to ward off vampires, survive from zombies or hide from the classic slasher villain?

The team over at Man Crates have acted on this much speculated over question. Seeing as they cater to the needs of a wide variety, with extraordinary gifts for men they want to know what the ideal crate would look like if you were looking to survive a horror film.  

Of course, in the horror genre there is a plentiful amount of sub-genres, like slasher flick, gothic horror, zombie film and body horror. This being said, this is my personal list of the essentials needed to survive the majority of them. 

5. Boom Stick

Ash definitely got this one bang on. With the iconic boom stick you can ward off all evil you might find in a horror film.

4. Vampire kit

In my eyes, this is an essential. The old fashioned and authentic vampire trunk is all you need, complete with stakes, bibles and of course a little bit of garlic.

3. Zombie Survival Kit

Man Crates offer the perfect necessity to any zombie flick. If dawn of the dead, 28 days later or Night of the Living Dead had this kit with them, the slaughter may have gone a lot smoother. 

2. Twinkies

In true Zombieland style, you've got to enjoy the small things. 

1. Sidekick

Where would the protagonist be without the faithful sidekick? Most likely dead. This is why you need an Ed (Shaun of the Dead), Jack (An American Werewolf in London), Annie (Halloween), or Glen (Nightmare on Elm Street) when surviving any horror film.

| Top 10 Horror Films |

In my latest efforts to avoid all forms of school work, my time has been spent outside revision books and more engrossed than ever, in the horror genre; something relatable with the fright and heebie-jeebies of the exam season, perhaps?. Nevertheless, I thought I’d convey my views regarding the most enjoyable, repellent and downright horrific horror flicks of all time.

10) Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974)

 9) The Exorcist (1973)

 8) Friday the 13th (1980)

 7) The Evil Dead (1981)

 6) Frankenstein (1931)

 5) A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)

 4) Nosferatu (1922)

 3) Halloween (1978)

 2) The Shining (1980)

 1) Psycho (1960)

A Clockwork Orange | VIOLENCE MAKES VIOLENCE

In 1972, Stanley Kubrick’s masterpiece A Clockwork Orange was unleashed onto the 

unsuspecting British public, in theatres all over the United Kingdom. The film ratings board of Great Britain had been especially harsh on this viciously violent movie, and the board’s harshness was soon justified: a multitude of replicated crimes, allegedly inspired by the movie, broke out across the country. The most horrific of these involved a 17-year-old Dutch tourist, who was raped by a gang of youths chanting—just as in the film—the lyrics to the song “Singing in the Rain.” Kubrick subsequently succumbed to public pressure and forbade the showing of the film in Great Britain; a self-imposed ban that lasted until his death in 1999. The public reaction to the movie was motivated by an unspoken theory of art and ethics; namely, that the aesthetic good is inextricably bound to the moral good, that good art makes good people. The great irony is that the work of art in question is itself an attack upon this commonly held (but rarely challenged) assumption.

Alex, the protagonist of A Clockwork Orange, has the most refined aesthetic taste of all the characters in the movie—he loves Beethoven and appreciates beauty for its own sake, even if that beauty is almost solely restricted to the female form. And yet, Alex has the blackest heart in a cast of villains. This dichotomy induces in the audience an unpleasant cognitive dissonance, conflicting with our assumptions. Despite this conflicting influence, Kubrick’s mastery of cinematography draws us into rapport with the young man. Throughout the first act of the movie, we see Alex savagely beat a homeless old man, steal a car only to run other drivers off the road, rape one woman and murder another. Even then, it all seems somehow playful. An early scene in which Alex’s gang fights with another group of thugs epitomises Kubrick’s approach to violence in the first act; the young men fight with stage furniture that shatters upon impact, making the brawl seem lighthearted. Yes, we in the audience think, this violence is morally reprehensible—but it certainly is fun to watch!

This tone is sustained until Alex is detained and sentenced for the murder of a middle-aged woman. In prison he volunteers for an experimental process that claims to ‘cure’ criminals of their sociopathy. The so-called Ludovico technique conditions Alex against violence by forcing him to watch footage of crimes and immoral acts while under the influence of a drug that makes him wretch and gag, giving him a feeling of impending death. And it works. Alex is made a better person not by appreciating beautiful things, but by being forced to see the true monstrosity inherent in violence. The transformation central to the plot of A Clockwork Orange enacts a theory that contradicts the public reaction to the film: crime is reduced by showing more violent films, not fewer.

Upon release, Alex finds himself without a home and on the street, where he meets the same characters that he persecuted in the first act. This time they take revenge upon him, assisted by Alex’s inability to remain conscious during the violence, a side effect of the Ludovico technique. I  believe Kubrick attacked our complicity in the depravity of the first act: he guided us to enjoy the savagery of the first act, and we gladly allowed it. Now, he turns the violence upon our surrogate and turns his directorial expertise to reveal the horror of that violence. And this is the director’s ultimate attack on the common conception of beauty: he uses his control over the audience’s experience to replace the drugs and straitjackets of the Ludovico technique with the pain we feel upon seeing the rehabilitated Alex so brutally punished.

When the critics of A Clockwork Orange said that the movie promoted violence through the sympathetic but evil character of Alex, they got the story only partially correct. The first act of the film certainly does, but only for the purpose of revealing our guilt in the third act. Thus we should see A Clockwork Orange, a movie banned in Britain for twenty-seven years on the grounds of excessive violence, for the anti-violent, but philosophically radical, piece of art that it actually is.

Peaky Blinders | Review

The first time that I heard of Peaky Blinders I was in HMV accumulating a lengthy christmas list last year. At the sound of the words ‘Tom Hardy’ - which were in the a conversation in the next row - I was immediately on my way round to covertly inspect the scene. What I saw looking back at me was Peaky Blinders- Series 2. Even though I had seldom heard of the show, by just looking at the cast list, brief reviews on the cover and soundtrack which included Red Right Hand by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds (it doesn’t stop there – the entire soundtrack is made up from gritty, gravelly contemporary pieces)- I knew I needed the programme in my life. 

At first glance the name intrigued me, just what was a Peaky Blinder? A selection of elucidations entered my mind, however, it turns out that Peaky Blinders were a criminal gang based in Birmingham, England, in the late 19th century following World War 1. They were one of the urban youth gangs in the era, which were among the earliest of modern street subcultures, with names which evolved from the fact that the members stitched razor blades into the peak of their flat caps, which could then be used as weapons (this made for some pretty satirical fight scenes, I’ll tell you that!)

Cillian Murphy portrays the gang’s leader Tommy Shelby- an ambitious, dangerous and traumatised head to the pack. After serving in the war, Tommy is like a lot of the cast, recovering… economically, socially and emotionally. Yes, okay, he’s on the earnest take (although much of the plot revolves around his endeavours to legitimise the family business albeit by fairly nefarious means); has come home with a sense of profound disassociation that neither women, nicotine or the occasional hit of opium can shift and is not at all adverse to slashing faces with his cap razors and whatnot, but in basically every episode there were also reminders of the good heart that beats beneath the impassive surface, as evidenced by his extraordinary loyalty and generosity to his family and friends.

Shelby family dynamic is sometime which interests the audience, as it is the second son who is in charge and not the elder; making us particularly sympathise with Arthur Shelby (Paul Anderson), whose position seemed to me to be rather an awkward one even if it is obvious why it is Tommy who is in charge of the whole shebang rather than him. Of course, as the show progresses, it becomes startlingly clear that there are more deep-seeded reasons than mere precedence to pity Arthur Shelby - who is as damaged as his younger brother by their experiences as tunnellers in World War One - but instead of retreating into himself, has become more dubious and shockingly violent. In the second series, the dark side of his nature becomes ever more crude and overwhelming, when his character evolves deeper, as he discovers ‘Tokyo’ or cocaine and is given a London nightclub to look after, with foreseeable horrible results.

These siblings and the admirable third Shelby brother John, who caused worry when thinking that he might fortuitously swallow and choke on the tooth pick that he chews on incessantly in the first series, all make the series worth a watch.

The actual members of the Peaky Blinders

For me though, it was Polly Shelby, the Shelby brother’s aunt and family matriarch, who really stole the whole show. Played with a mesmerising, powerful charisma and bravado by Draco Malfoy’s mother, as fiercely protective and loyal of her family as Tommy, she was the avenging angel of the show and, like a vixen protecting her cubs, never more terrifying than when made to feel vulnerable or forced to protect her own. Polly was only one of the selection of strong female characters who gave a foundation of appeal in the show. With the significant sister (Ada) being one of these, a heart breaking love story is interpreted into the programme, showing a forbiden love between a Shelby and Communist, Freddie Thorne. However, it is impossible to commend Tommy’s feeble love interest, cross spy, cross over confident admirer of her singing talents.

There should also be a special mention at this point for Tom Hardy’s amazing and surprisingly comedic, yet still absolutely terrifying performance as series two protagonist Alfie Solomons, a barking mad Jewish gangster based in north London. Its no secret, I’m a self obsessed Tom Hardy stalker - cough, uh - fan. With him on board, not a lot could have gone wrong (except maybe a dodgy accent here and there). 

In anticipation, I wait for series 3 of Peaky Blinders; an absolute must see and effortless to enjoy. Additionally, binge watching is a breeze, at only 6 episodes a series- both series barely took a couple days. The cinematography is golden and iconic, the script is outrageous and the cast are perfect. This review is going to be concluded with a quote from Tom Hardy regarding a change of look :

“I ain't shaving my beard off. To shave my beard off would be to cut my f*cking nuts off. You know what I mean? Without them, I am no longer… I am now a lie. Why would I do that?”… there, ended perfectly.

Beware the Moon | An American Werewolf in London | Review

Although the 1980s were not kind to most traditional monsters - vampires, mummies, gargoyles, and the like - however, the decade also offered a remarkably prominent werewolf movie.  In the summer of 1981 John Landis' An American Werewolf in London was released. The very film which would, in many ways, set the standard for the modern werewolf movie. In the 34 years since its first release, it has not yet been surpassed (not even by the Jack Nicholson/ Mike Nichols collaboration, Wolf).

Often, there's an acute line between horror and humour. This evolves from the natural defence mechanism of the human psyche; laughing at something which causes discomfort. Hence, while some people are shocked and disturbed by a film like The Exorcist, others snigger and giggle like they're watching a cheesy Adam Sandler comedy. On rare occasions, directors attempt to exploit this fine link. Most of the time, they fail miserably, and the results can be painfully unfunny, parodic and non-frightening. However, a few filmmakers defy the odds and mine the right vein of ore. The list is disappointingly short, and includes names like Sam Raimi (The Evil Dead and its two sequels) and John Landis.

Landis came to An American Werewolf in London riding the crest of a wave of popularity. His two previous movies, Animal House and The Blues Brothers, had proven to be juggernaut box office successes. An American Werewolf in London would make it a trifecta. Afterwards, the director's career began a slow downward slide, beginning with the on-set disaster associated with his segment of The Twilight Zone. Landis rebounded briefly with Trading Places, but, by the roll around of the '90s, he was mostly regarded as a has-been and living proof of how easily even a proven filmmaker can fall out of favour in the industry.

In terms of storyline and plot structure, there's nothing innovative and unforeseen about An American Werewolf in London. What makes this film unique is its successful marriage of horror and comedy. The humorous sequences are funny enough to laugh at, while the gruesome scenes retain the power to fright. This ability to refrain from being a mimicry, is in large part due to the identification of the main character, whom we hope against odds will find some way out of the story’s impossible predicament. Had this individual been imbued with less humanity, he would have turned into a caricature and the entire film would have devolved into a grotesque farce.

The movie opens in the wild moors of Yorkshire, where two Americans, David Kessler (David Naughton) and Jack Goodman (Griffin Dunne), are on a backpacking trip. By the time they reach a small village near the threat of nightfall, they are freezing and famished, so they decide to stop in at the local pub, a place with the ominous name "The Slaughtered Lamb". Their reception there is decidedly frosty, as they receive angry glares from the customers and the barmaid. After they ask one too many questions, they are rudely told to leave, although, before departing, they are given a warning to stick to the road and not wander onto the moors - a warning they ignore, much to their regret.

When it comes, the attack is swift and merciless. A huge, wolf-like creatures leaps from the shadows, savagely killing Jack and injuring David before several of the townspeople, armed with guns, subdue it. The next thing David knows, he is recovering in a London hospital under the tender ministrations of a captivating nurse named Alex Price (Jenny Agutter) and the pragmatic Dr. Hirsch (John Woodvine). Despite a series of harrowing nightmares, David seems to be progressing - until he receives an unsettling visit from his zombified friend, Jack, who informs him that he has become one of the walking dead and that David, on the night of the next full moon, will exhibit the curse of lycanthropy and transform into a werewolf.

Of the three early-'80s werewolf movies, the transformation sequences in An American Werewolf in London are the most effective, beating out those in The Howling by a slobbering snout (Wolfen isn't even up to par enough in the running). There are a lot of similarities, which should come as no surprise, since both were supervised by makeup man extraordinary Rick Baker (who was also responsible for changing Jack Nicholson from man to beast in Wolf). Baker, working with "old-fashioned" tools like prosthetics and makeup, creates a series of memorable and lasting images.  The transformation starts with David leaping up from reading a book after an extended sequence of pacing and worrying in anticipation of the full moon., “Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ! What?” is all we hear… just before he tears at his clothing, perspiring and mewling out of pain, limbs begin to elongate, mangle, and sprout tufts of hair. David writhes on the floor and we hear what sounds like cracking bone. It’s a far cry from the fade-in transformation of Lon Chaney Jr. in 1941’s The Wolfman (a film that gets name-checked and referenced throughout American Werewolf). This transformation looks excruciating. It’s also held up considerably well in the more than thirty years since the film’s initial release. All in all, it is no surprise that Baker claimed an oscar for his work in the department.

In the end, An American Werewolf in London successfully attempts to update the werewolf genre; there is no such thing as silver bullets or other silly plot points unlike prior werewolf movies. This horror classic attempts to simplify the lore and the fact that it is humorous does not hinder the sinister elements, or the impact of the creature. Because what does the werewolf lore represent? It represents the idea of stripping someone of their humanity and leaving them at their most primal state. The werewolf-phobia or ‘lupophobia’ seems to stem from the fear of humanity at its most basic form. This is quite possibly why the darker tones of An American Werewolf in London mix perfectly with the abundance of absurdity, as the link between humanity and overwhelmingness of animalistic instinct is present and presented, excellently throughout the film. Without a doubt, it's my favourite werewolf flick proves to be just one of those movies that you’ll never really be through with, a classic.

Under the Skin | Passport to the UK

Recently, I have been contacted and requested to become a UK contributor to the arts site The Thoroughfare. Based in the US, it has been running for a short amount of time; showing an immense amount of potential for the future. For my debut on the site, a feature has been created linking the two locations (UK & USA) named Passport to the UK. 

Basically, this means that I will review/ write regarding films and books established in the United Kingdom. For my first post, I chose to review the 2013 Sci-Fi Thriller: Under the Skin. 

To see the full version of the piece click here. For entertaining articles, reviews and much more, be sure to check out some of their other posts on a wide variety of crafts and arts.