The Wolf of Wall Street

The Wolf of Wall Street

   There is something odd about going to see a film in the cinema and walking out at the end feeling, well, odd. I have only ever experienced it three times in my cinema-going life – after watching Atonement, following 12 Years a Slave, and now after viewing Martin Scorcesse's The Wolf of Wall Street. Perhaps it just depends on the type of film you choose to see, but I always tend to decide whether a film has been good or not depending on the way it makes me feel after the credits roll. After swashbuckling adventures like Pirates of the Caribbean, X-Men and Avengers Assemble I felt powerful, invincible, walking out of the cinema complex with an extra weight in my step and the wind in my hair (totally imaginary) thinking that I was a superhero or a secret agent or somebody the masses looked upon to save the world. This is ridiculous, of course, but nevertheless if a movie makes me feel like I want to climb trees and fly across the sky then it’s at least had something of an impact on me.

   My reaction following The Wolf of Wall Street was a not unwelcome desire to go out and do something crazy and not be defined by the laws of morality or by what I tell myself I should do. So I gorged myself on a McDonald’s and I didn’t feel bad about it because I enjoyed it and why should you stop enjoying things in life? But the difference between me and the film is that my conscience came back to me before I’d even finished my last bite and felt I should probably exercise in the morning to make myself feel better about my greediness. I’m no Wolf of Wimpy or Mountain Lion of McDonald’s, clearly, because I sought redemption for what I had done. But this is a sentiment that the film doesn’t share, and could easily lead people with a weaker moral conscience than I to believe that living crazy in fast cars is a damn site better than riding the subway home every day.

 

   The trouble with the film is this message that you can play hard and party harder, with the only repercussion that when you get caught all you have to do is sell your friends up the river to the FBI. When you have lived a life of debauchery as the wolf of Wall Street this doesn’t seem like such a high price to pay when the definition of a friend has always been a little shaky anyway. That is not to say that Leonardo DiCaprio doesn’t do a phenomenal job in his portrayal of the slimy, smooth-taking Jordan Belfort, the “wolf” of Wall Street, and his rags to riches story. We are introduced to Belfort when he is living at the peak of his luxurious life, advertised like in infomercial. We see images of his beautiful wife, played by the lovely (and with cheekbones to die for) Margot Robbie, view his huge house, fast cars and expensive watches in cut-scenes that act like picture postcards of what success can buy you.

The whole film, in fact, is shot like an infomercial for Belfort’s way of life, and the opening of the film is even an advertisement for his stocks company Stratton Oakmont, and DiCaprio later narrates the story to us looking straight down the lens of the camera. However all of this beauty is juxtaposed instantly by one of the first images of Belfort himself caught in a lurid sex act with a random woman, snorting crack cocaine. The 22 year old Belfort whom we meet following this introduction is rendered naïve by our knowledge that the young man who sipped water and politely refused Martini’s on his lunch break would soon become a multi-millionaire drug and sex addict.

   The film then unfolds in chronological order and the audience get to watch the encounters and circumstances that shaped Belfort’s life and brought him to the point of snorting coke on the backs of naked women. We learn that Belfort had married his first wife at 22, a beautiful but plain-clothed girl who grows increasingly concerned about the moral choices he is making. However it is in one of her appeals to him to stop cheating poor people out of money that he develops the cunning plan to cheat the rich instead. And when the papers print a negative article about him as the Wolf of Wall Street, likening him to some kind of corporate Robin Hood who steals from the rich and gives to himself, it is his wife who assures him that all publicity is good publicity, and he looks good in the picture so why should he care.  One of the best scenes in the film is after Belfort’s wife points him to a job advertisement by a small business looking to hire a stock-broker. When he attends the interview, he opens the door to find a small office with a bunch of middle-aged, dowdy men working on the “pink paper” companies whose shares sell for only $0.99. The office is shabby and stuffy and down and out, but Belfort comes in and sweeps them all off their feet with his frightening talent as a salesman. He manages to convince people to buy things they don’t even need or want, making them believe they will be missing out big time if they let the opportunity slip by. The rest of the office stand aghast as he makes a sale worth more than any of them could dream of in his first ever sales call. In this scene, although Belfort is undeniably ruthless and cheating people into buying stocks and shares in companies that are utterly worthless, he is at his most majestic.

   Owing to his natural talents and business prowess, Belfort slowly works his way to the top and becomes the owner of his own stock firm with the help of a bunch of misfits whom he has moulded and guided into becoming almost as frightening at selling snow to the Eskimos as himself. There is nothing particularly endearing about Belfort’s group of merry men, they are all overweight, slimy and oily and as money-obsessed as he is. One of the best relationships, however, is between Belfort and Donnie Azoff, played by Jonah Hill, and it is clear that an off-screen friendship has lent itself well to what appears to be an often ad-libbed and spontaneous onscreen relationship. Although Belfort has already been dabbling in drugs and hookers, it is Donnie who really introduces him to the pleasures of getting high as they smoke pot in a diner and cement the future antics of their relationship.

Donnie introduces Belfort to Ludes, a drug that was originally prescribed to housewives and those suffering from anxiety and lack of sleep, which if you can stop yourself from sleeping after 20 minutes gives you the most delirious and unbelievable high. So needless to say Belfort spends much of the rest of the movie high as a kite on ludes, lending itself to one of the funniest sequences in the film. Belfort and Donnie take a dose of special ludes that have been maturing since they were declared illegal and stripped from pharmacy shelves. After ignoring advice to only take one of these pills, they end up polishing the lot and both lose their ability to speak and function. DiCaprio gives a hilarious turn in this sequence, slurring his speech and crawling on the floor, opening his car door with his foot and driving recklessly. However even though this scene is extremely funny, it is simply too long and the laughs wear off along with the effects of the drugs. It embodies my other niggling concern with the film that everything is all just a bit too much. The film is too long, there is too much dialogue, too much nudity, too much swearing, too many drugs, even a little too much screaming from DiCaprio in his motivational speeches.

   The film is so full of excess that it soon becomes mundane. This is most especially true of the nudity. Some might think that all of the nakedness on screen would be somehow sexy and orgasmic but instead it becomes awkward and uncomfortable. This is clearly the message, to subvert what you might assume would be a hugely glamorous lifestyle and show you the seediness and cracks (quite literally) in that way of living. However it does become unpleasant and gives the odd sensation that you are somehow complicit in this debauchery. It makes you feel like a peeping Tom looking through the keyhole, being highly judgemental but all the while remaining glued to your seat and continuing to act like a voyeur. What is conveyed excellently through this excessive nudity and sexual activity though is the sense of animalism that is inherent in the film. Although circumstances differ hugely and motivations are different, humans do ultimately behave in the same way as animals. The wolf of Wall Street creates the wolf-pack of Wall-Street and all of people’s characteristics can be likened to animals: the salesmen who stalk and catch their prey like lions; the office members who stomp and pound their chests like monkeys; the woman who, as part of Belford’s original team, had to turn to ruthlessness like a female cheetah protecting her cub; the way that people copulate is not prettified with soft lighting and satin bed sheets but performed out in the open, in large packs, violent and carefree like animals. After a while all of these excesses are no longer shocking but a mere implication that this is somehow normal and comes hand in hand with success.

 

 

   In the end, although Belfort doesn’t receive any real punishment for his crimes, and it doesn’t leave you with the morale message that this kind of hedonistic lifestyle is wrong, it allows the audience the freedom to make up their own minds. Here it all is in plain sight for you to see, judge for yourself whether you think you would want it or not. However, don’t judge too harshly, because who is to say that you wouldn’t act the same.  When in the office with the rest of Belfort’s staff listening to one of his fervent speeches about being successful, doing all that you can to make it to the top of your game, with the animal instinct in all of us, would we really be able to stop from beating our own chests to the beat?  However then I think back to the way that the movie made me feel odd, and I realise that it’s because of the thing that makes me, and all humans in general, so different from animals – our conscience.

A Place in the Sun

                         A Place in the Sun


   As part of my quest to watch a greater amount of "classic" films, I am reading through "The Guinness Book of Film: The Ultimate Guide to the Best Films Ever". I realised that I couldn't really call myself a proper movie enthusiast until I had watched more of history's greats, featuring some of the late great stars of bygone era's from the 1920s up to the films of today that are already proving to be instant classic successes. One of my favourite films of all time is Top Hat, featuring the wonderful Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, but it was only through reading this book that I realised it was made in the early 1930's! This is an era that seems so far removed from the life we lead today and yet the film has the capacity to engage with humour, romance, and star quality as much today as ever. I have always been a big fan of screen goddesses such as Ginger Rogers, Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly and Marilyn Monroe, but there was one starlet whose star quality I hadn't actually ever seen on the big screen: Elizabeth Taylor. All I knew of Miss Taylor was very publicised versions of her marriage history, the controversy of the production costs of Cleopatra and her friendship with Michael Jackson. Then I read the plot synopsis of the film "A Place in the Sun" (1951) with an intriguing story and equally intriguing lead stars and had to make a point of watching it.

   With A Place in the Sun you instantly feel the vibes of both the glamour and heartache that befell the characters and the real life stars of Hollywood's decadent 1950s cinema. From the lavish music to the flattering blur of black and white, to the gorgeousness of the film's two lead stars and sumptuousness of the fashion and locations, A Place in the Sun at first seems the very epitome of romance and post-war decadence. The handsome and engaging Montgomery Clift plays George Eastman, a young man who leaves the drudgery of poverty and dead-end jobs in the hope of gaining a successful career working for his rich uncle. One of the opening shots we observe is George looking at himself in the reflection of a shop window, with the classic image of his head resting on top of the mannequin dressed in an expensive tweed suit in the reflection. Without any dialogue we know already that this is a man with ambition and dreams to better the lot that he has been dealt in life. Wearing the tweed suit, George goes off to meet his Uncle, a meeting that will alter the course of his life forever. George manages to secure a lowly position in his uncle's company, but the biggest outcome of this meeting is catching a glimpse of the beautiful and charismatic Angela Vickers, played with sincerity by a youthful Elizabeth Taylor. The meeting doesn't mean very much to Angela, but George instantly falls in love with in that very moment and from then on it becomes difficult to determine whether his determination to rise in the business is to fulfil his career ambitions or to pursue Angela.



   On his first day at the new job, George is told firmly that relationships between co-workers is strictly prohibited, which of course is going to end in disaster. He soon exchanges what starts out as innocent flirtations with pretty co-worker Alice Tripp, played by Shelley Winters, which eventually becomes something much more serious, and we soon seen the full extent of George's ambitious nature. George goes against the rules to pursue his desire, and despite Alice's meek protests, invites himself to spend
the night together with Alice. Despite what appears to be a rather romantic relationship between them, when George is invited to a party thrown by his Uncle that happens to be on his birthday, he chooses the event that will forward his career (or offer him a chance encounter with Angela) rather than spending the whole night with Alice who has a surprise romantic night planned for him. George assures Alice that he will manage to do both, but when he meets Angela again wearing a beautiful white net sweetheart gown, looking sultry and breath-taking, the pair engage in a spout of flirtation across a pool table while the dinner Alice had cooked for George grows cold and the candle wax drips on the table. When George finally returns to Alice, she truly has a surprise for him, one that ruins their relationship as it requires a commitment that he isn't prepared to sacrifice Angela for: she's pregnant.

   George spends the rest of the film running away from his responsibility to Alice, feigning his business ambition and the desire to make the money they will need to raise a family as an excuse to spend more time with Angela. Life with Alice offers no advantages for George, he hasn't found himself in a tragic love triangle but merely stuck with a burden he is too selfish to bear. Life with Alice means returning to the nobody from nowhere lifestyle that he was so desperate to avoid and was the reason that brought him to this new life in the first place. This predicament alone could easily fill the remainder of the film as we question whether George will stand by his moral duty to Alice, or strive instead for the hedonistic life with Angela. However, a chance mention of the dangers of boating accidents and freak drowning incidents during the summer vacations that George hears over the radio one gloomy night in his apartment takes the film on an unexpected, Hitchcockesque, sinister journey from which it will not return.

 

   Now the romantic music, carefree dances and date nights have been replaced by ominous note changes, police sirens and chilling bird calls. As George hears frequent mentions of boating accidents and bodies that disappeared after drowning, echoes of Alice's innocent conversation come flashing back to mind. While packing swimming costumes in boxes George asks her why she would never wear a swim suit. "Don't you look good in one?" George asks, "sure I do" she defiantly replies, "but I can't swim".

   Now the film becomes haunting and chilling, as we watch George mentally and physically prepare for the most heinous of crimes in order to avoid facing up to his responsibilities. The whole escapade is doomed from the beginning, even if George carries out Alice's murder his deep and tortured conscience will not allow him happiness with Angela. Is he destined to live as a slave to fate, a Tess d'Urberville of the silver screen, fated to live an unhappy life despite his struggles to thwart it? The film unfolds now like a Hitchcock suspense thriller, building up to a climax, boat rides in the dark, sounds of birds and sirens and close-ups of George's tortured face. All of these warning signals are juxtaposed by the beauty of the lake and the majesty of the shooting star upon which Alice makes a wish that George will love her like he used to. Alice predicts her own fate when she jokes that George probably wished on the star that she were dead. Finally George admits to himself that he cannot go through with it, at which point Alice rises desperately, frantically, to her feet and, by accident or not, falls to her death in the icy water. The next scene we observe is the figure of George rising from the water, slinking back to Angela, without breathing a word of the fate that has just befallen Alice. Questions bubble to the surface about why he didn't try to rescue her or tell anybody what happened. Instead he dreams of fleeing with Angela and marrying her in secret, inadvertently embroiling her in his criminal acts and thrusting his tainted character upon her.

   More suspense ensues as slowly detectives piece together the evidence. Almost comedic mix ups then take place as the chilling sound of sirens is heard in the distance, following Angela and George in the car together, only to stop her and get her in trouble for speeding. A short-lived court scene finalises the film as the jury, and us as the spectator, are asked to determine the difference between the intent to commit murder and the act of actually perpetrating it. In the end, after the jury reach their verdict, George re-unites with Angela who has been fervently following the case the whole time. It seems almost a fitting tragedy to end the film that Angela, despite all the wrongs dealt upon her, had the compassion to forgive and still love George. The cruel reality here is that if George had only told her the truth in the beginning, she had such a capacity for love and forgiveness and her devotion to him so strong that she would have loved him anyway, but now they are doomed to say their final goodbye. However, Taylor is so marvellous in the final scene, her character has grown used to goodbyes, that even though this will be their last, and even though she clutches at a white handkerchief, her eyes are dry. Has the weight of the goodbye not yet sunk in for her? Or has she realised that the relationship would never have lasted, now she has gone to school and "learned things", and she leaves the room with an odd smile on her face, suggesting that perhaps her great capacity to forgive belies something more of an indication of her relief at escaping when she did.

   The film is very much split in two halves, from the seemingly innocent love triangle of the first half where George's biggest crime is being deceitful, to the chilling second half where frivolous relationships are weighted with a grim reality and George becomes cold, callous and capable of murder. The film is shot wonderfully, set in a black and white haze, where glamour is pitted against the drab through many visual juxtapositions such as the fashion of Alice and Angela. Despite being a cold and calculated two-timing over-reacher, it is possible to feel a portion of sympathy for George, played brilliantly by Clift, who endows him with a wonderful mix of wide-eyed innocence and knowing intent, whose thoughts are always written all over his furrowed brows. This isn't just another black and white "oldie" with beautiful stars and sumptuous costume, but has resonances of classic novels such as du Maurier's "Rebecca" and Thomas Hardy's "Tess of the d'Urbervilles", giving it a weight that transcends the frivolity of its opening love affair. A Place in the Sun is worth watching time and time again for clues about the doomed love affair and to continue to question your own beliefs about what makes someone guilty of murder. The film is stylish, chilling and exquisite. It makes you dream of the glory years of Hollywood whilst being thankful that you live in a century were some taboos no longer call for such extreme action.

The Great Gatsby

                The Great Gatsby

 

   The haunting tones of Lana del Ray's "Young and Beautiful" surmise perfectly the hopeless and hedonistic emotion that forms the backbone of both F. Scott Fitzgerald's 1920's written masterpiece and Baz Luhrmann's 2013 filmic adaptation of 'The Great Gatsby'. The question "will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?" echoes on the lips of all the characters in Fitzgerald's novel, as we are presented with a portrait of characters who are in the very spoils of youth, filling their young days with parties, designer labels, alcohol, burning romances, fast cars and all of the luxuries money can buy. Yet the characters are forever aware of the inevitability of the future, the ceaselessness of time, and the constant desperation to cling to the past.

   Perhaps no other character exemplifies this in either the book or the film than Daisy Buchanan, the beautiful young woman who captivates any man or woman with her songful voice and eyes that gaze upon you like you are the only one in the world who matters. She is a particularly intriguing character, someone who is eternally loving and in love with being in love, yet also undisputedly shallow, unloving and desperate to live the rich American dream. Carey Mulligan has natural qualities of Daisy in her perfect balance of daintiness and strength and captures her light and tuneful voice. Mulligan's Daisy is complex and romantic, at times giddy and deliriously happy, at others darkened and tormented by fears of the future and ghosts of the past.

   Luhrmann's entire cast have been perfectly chosen for this film, and all actors give terrific performances in their roles. Particularly impressive is Toby Maquire as Nick Carraway, embodying Nick's simple nerdy elegance, slight awkwardness and almost disbelief that anyone would want to invite him to one of their parties. Isla Fischer as Myrtle at first seemed inappropriate as Fischer is too beautiful in real life to play a slightly vulgar and buxom mistress. However she does portray Myrtle as a woman bored and listless in her loveless marriage, desperate for Tom's affections and promises to give her a better future very well and it is her desperate demise that marks the end of the careless days of youth and brings the story to its sobering conclusion. Joel Edgerton who plays Tom Buchanan is simply sublime in the film. He plays a fantastically powerful and lustful man who is a wayward husband, has a weakness for women and hatred for Gatsby, but who is yet deeply sensitive and protective of Daisy. He is possessive and mean but somehow fragile and Edgerton portrays this marvellously.

   The hardest of all shoes to fill are the polished, mahogany dress shoes of Jay Gatsby. Gatsby is a unique leading man in the book. His mannerisms are cool, calm and collected. He is mysterious and hides his true identity beneath his pastel suits and manifestations of "Old sport".  Some might argue that Leonardo Dicaprio does not get the opportunity to demonstrate his terrific acting ability in the role of Gatsby, however he in fact does an excellent job of self-containing the excitement about to erupt from Gatsby and makes his violent outburst to Tom Buchanan all the more impacting because of the understated cool with which he portrays Gatsby throughout the film. Dicaprio is at times extremely comedic in his portrayal of Gatsby like a love-struck teenager, and at times menacing, brilliantly hinting at the ruthless character who underpins all of Gatsby's actions. He displays a flash of anger in his eyes that suggests there might be something true in the stories about Gatsby's past and that he may very well have been capable of killing a man. Dicaprio oozes with natural glamour and elegance and brilliantly portrays someone who is teetering on the edge of violence and belies a man who would be capable of any underhanded crimes in the crazed pursuit of lost love.

   Luhrmann's film remains extremely faithful to Fitzgerald's novel throughout, from everything to scenery, set pieces, clothing choice and script. The biggest alteration, however, is the music. Instead of 20's new-age American jazz, we get the popular singers of our time to provide the soundtrack to the raging parties. Artists like Jay-Z, Beyoncé, the aforementioned Lana del Ray, Gotye and Will.I.Am provide the musical heartbeat of the film. The music may be anachronistic but it exemplifies the feeling of the times. 20's jazz may not stir up a sense of anything but nostalgia and echoes of a time gone by if we were to hear it now. But songs like Will.I.Am's "Bang Bang" are as catchy and synonymous with partying and extravagance as jazz would have been in Gatsby's day and show that the events of the film are as relevant today as ever before. Even the 20's fashion of the film is making a comeback in our 2013 culture and women and men alike are yearning after beaded headdresses, feather gowns and pastel suits.

   Much like the book, Luhrmann's film adaptation is arguably simply not about very much. But the quality of the acting and the relevance of the story are simply mesmerising. At the end of the film you are left feeling very much in doubt of the security and purpose of our own lives. As the film reaches it's dramatic conclusion it becomes soberingly clear how trivial material things are and how little they truly make us happy. Some might question why we should care about a bunch of rich kids from America squandering their money and their marriages while not assuming responsibility for anything. But the truth is that they are like many of us in many ways. There is, arguably, a bit of Gatsby in all of us: someone who doesn't want to let go of the past; someone who wants to be successful; someone with vanity and yearning for expensive things and someone who simply wants to love and be loved.

   Like many films today, The Great Gatsby is a half-hour too long, which gives it a slight lull in the middle where the film drops pace. However, the film is stylistically superb. Despite at times feeling like an amateur film student production, once you give yourself up to the idiosyncracy of the camera shots and the excessive use of CGI, you can lose yourself in the elegance of the film. The green light at the end of Daisy's dock is as haunting and significant in the film as it is in the book, the mist surrounding the light wonderfully balances how near and yet how unreachable Daisy's world is to Gatsby. The unsufferable heat of the fatal night of the accident is brilliantly portrayed, the room feels stuffy as temperatures and tensions rise. Dr. Eckleberg's ever-seeing eyes feel as ominous and claustrophobic as the book and produce the uneasy feeling that we are being judged too as we sit back and judge the characters in the story. 

   The film ends with the same poetic words as Fitzgerald's novel as we watch the mist rise over Daisy's dock and the ever pulsing green light becomes clearer with the realisation that the past Gatsby dreams of could never have lived up to his ceaseless expectations. The weight of Gatsby's dream was too much for Daisy to bear and when the mystery clears, the green light was just a green light and it will continue to flash without her, much as the world will continue to beat on without Gatsby in it. This is not a definitive adaptation, there will be many more to come and many more flashing green lights to be embodied and metamorphisised on the silver screen. But it is a faithful, well-acted, luxurious and subtly addictive adaptation and a good excuse to put on a pair of silk gloves and reach for the novel again.

Django Unchained

  



   I found myself an unexpected Quentin Tarantino fan with his Inglourious Basterds (2009). It was gory, violent and hard-hitting but absolutely terrific. I was able to appreciate the ways Tarantino plays with you as a spectator and what you have come to expect from movies. He drags out dialogue, shows you things in close-up that are not necessarily relevant or important to the movie as a whole and portrays characters with such depth that you find yourself admiring even the bad guy. I approached Django Unchained with the feeling that even if I shut my eyes at the goriest bits I would still be able to appreciate Tarantino's artistry and mastery as a director.

   The opening of Django gives an excellent introduction to Jamie Foxx's character Django as we embark with him and his fellow slaves on a journey to be purchased by rich white slave owners. We don't just get suggestions of how long and difficult a journey they were forced to undertake, but we are thrust into every part of this tiresome treck. We see the men's aching, cracked and bloodied feet, see the sweat pour down their whip-scarred backs, are given close-ups of their calloused ankles ripped by the heavy shackles. We encounter their relationship with white slave owners, and witness the maltreatment, abuse and disrespect that they receive. The opening sets the film up incredibly well wtih cool music, cool scenery and poignant images, giving the impression that this film is going to offer something cool and different.

   But unfortunately, when we are introduced to some of the dialogue, the film suddenly seems a bit sluggish. The biggest piece of dialogue that we are first introduced to is from Christoph Waltz's Dr. King Schultz. This is a man who I much admired in Inglourious Basterds, his Hans Landa was chilling, unnerving, violent and funny, a complex character upon whose every word you hang in nervous suspense. In Django, though, his dialogue is long and convoluted and even a little indulgent. It is nice to see him play the good guy for a change, but I can't help but feel that his complexity of character is wasted on the good. Or perhaps simply that Tarantino has written an extremely complex dialogue for a good guy, without giving much of his history away. All we know is that he is a good guy who makes his money by killing bad guys. How complex can a good guy really be? Despite this, thanks to Waltz's natural charm, he still remains hugely likable throughout the film.

   The relationship between Schultz and Django is one of the highlights of the film. It is in parts funny, emotional and powerful, and the training montage in the snow is the best scene in the film. At this point in the film the story has been in turns emotional and entertaining. Tarantino juxtaposes the hilarity and utter ridiculousness of the Ku Klux Klan, who's masks have been hand-sewn by their wives and pose great difficulty to their vision, with moments of real seriousness. Beneath the satirical humour is a real judgement about the KKK and all the powerful white men who thought themselves superior. Here they appear belittled and ridiculed, but still capable of perpetrating great violence. This hilarity is also sandwiched between moments of real heartache and harrowing viewing, such as the whipping and abuse of Django's wife Broomhilda, played by Kerry Washington. Tarantino invites you to laugh at these stuffy white men and their silly masks, but at the same time constantly reminds you of the terrible deeds that are committed at their hands.

   Despite the graphic violence, the film is essentially a beautiful love story, like something out of a German fairytale, as Django embarks on a mission to rescue his beloved wife Broomhilda from slavery. The journey sees him assume the role of Schultz's Mandingo adviser who surveys fighters and judges which will be the strongest and most likely to win a fight. This is where we meet Leonardo DiCaprio's Calvin Candie of the Candyland estate, a man who makes his living hosting Mandingo fights and buying and selling Mandingo fighters. And he also happens to own Django's wife as a slave.

   As always, DiCaprio is a wonderful character actor, imbuing Candie with a malice teetering on the edge of an otherwise friendly outward appearance. A man who is fiercly intelligent when it comes to business but whose ego and weakness for flattery renders him a little naive. He isn't the sharpest tool in the box but he could sure as hell kill you with a blunt one anyway.

   DiCaprio's otherwise brilliant portrayal of Candie is hugely undermined by Samuel L. Jackson's Stephen, Candie's long-serving and senior slave. His character serves as the comical respite in the otherwise tense and foreboding relationship between Candie and Django, but at times he was simply overbearing and quite simply not funny. DiCaprio's intensely complex performance was always underpinned by an unnecessarily stereotypical sassy diva remark from Stephen. Everything was followed by a "mhmm", "daym right" that I wouldn't have been suprised to hear a "oh no he didn't" thrown in there as well. I understand that Tarantino probably did this as a deliberate method of usurping what you have come to expect from movies and adding humour where it doesn't normally seem appropriate. This stops you from falling so deeply into DiCaprio's performance, constantly jerks you out of the make-believe of the story and keeps you focussed on the morale of the film as a whole. Nevertheless it was frustrating and did an injustice to the emotion of this scene.

   As this part of the film follows through, of course we know that the rescue mission going smoothly is too good to be true and there's going to be a show-down between Django and Candie. If the film had been brought to a conclusion in this scene I might have been more favourable of it. But Tarantino would not let you think it was over that easily. Instead we essentially watch the whole plot of the film again in the last half hour, by which time you care far less if Django manages to free his wife or seek revenge on those who have hurt him most.

   The film reaches its peak very early on and drags from there on in.  Overall the film just doesn't quite hit the mark. Other than the luxurious and catchy Django song in the opening sequence, the music is disappointing; the dialogue is cluttered and fussy; the film a half hour too long and just a little too much slapstick flying guts. However, there are some brilliant performances, from Foxx and DiCaprio especially, as well as from Kerry Washington, and Waltz is as charming and watchable as ever despite being loaded with such lengthy dialogue. Foxx is one cool guy, and that is one constant throughout the film. DiCaprio's performance at the dinner table when he cuts his own hand is one of the most intense I have ever seen, as he literally trembles with anger, pumped up with such adrenaline that he doesn't even feel the pain. He leaves you frightened and unsure of what evil he might be capable of.The film has its moments, and it treats slavery with such integrity that it is refreshing when most movies would rather brush over the grittier details of what really happened behind the grand doors of the white landowners estates. It makes a lot of social and moral comments, and at the very base is actually a rather sweet love story, but there's just something that isn't engaging enough to make it an instant classic.

Les Miserables

The Beautiful Misery of Les Miserables

   Les Miserables begins with the powerful image of a ship being wrenched into its concrete port by hundreds of overworked and desperate prisoners using nothing but their bare hands, brute strength and yards of coarse rope. The prisoners heave and ho, battered by sea water, belting out the deep and chilling notes of "Look Down" in angry unison. This opening scene is one of the most impacting of any movie, instantly setting the mood and the theme of struggle, providing a gloomy prophesy of the trials and tribulations that are still to come.

   The music of the stage version of Les Miserables has always been one of it's strongest and most powerful assets, and this filmic adaptation does not disappoint. One of the aspects of a movie musical that audiences can often find frustrating is the uneasy transition from spoken dialogue to the characters bursting into song. For some, on stage it just works, a shared live experience between the audience and the performer. On stage it seems spontaneous and heartfelt, while on film it can often come across a little jarring and contrived. This is something that director Tom Hooper attempts to address in this version of Les Miserables, as the actors provide us with a live rendition of their songs. The songs have not been pre-recorded in a studio for the actor to mime to, but recorded live on set. What the songs might lose in pitch-perfection and faultless singing they more than make up for in raw emotion. The singing is heartfelt and is an incredible outlet of the pent up miseries and frustrations of the characters. The songs include every croak, every tear-strained note, every pause for breath and passion of the actor. While it might make for a less-enjoyable soundtrack to listen to on your CD player or iPod, it produces an utterly gut-wrenching experience for the spectator.

   This is felt none more so than during Anne Hathaway's rendition of "I Dreamed a Dream". This was not about judging whether Hathaway could do justice to such an iconic song, but instead being completely and utterly lost in her performance. Hathaway's Fantine stirs up emotions far deeper than anything I have ever experienced before. She made me more than just a bit weepy, she made me downright hysterical, calling forth emotions that seemed to come from the very depths of my soul. You didn't just sympathise with Fantine, you simply ached for her and the pain she suffered.

   A further way in which Hooper attempts to redress the sometmes jarring combination of dialogue and singing in movie musicals was the decision to have the dialogue entirely sung by all the characters. Each line was delivered in spoken song which was interesting, if divisive. On the one hand it helped form the film into one coherent melody that continuously underpinned the action without seeming cheesy. It took a while to adjust to this convention, but over time it felt more natural and the songs led themselves more naturally to the story. However it also had the negative effect of causing the songs to lose their impact. With one song blending into the next, the overall impact of songs like "Bring Him Home" and "On My Own" was slightly reduced and left me craving spoken dialogue and relishing the few spoken words the film did contain.

   Despite this, every single word was uttered with such integrity that it was impossible not to feel deeply for all the characters involved. This is not a happy movie. The setting of Les Miserables is bleak, the divide between rich and poor is extreme and the people of France strictly governed by a merciless military. The movie depicts the grim reality of French civilian life as the streets are infested with poor families riddled with lepracy, malnourished and angry, huddled in dirty streets full of crime and prostitution. The people lament that at the end of the day you are just another day older, sinking into an apathy of miserable acceptance. You can understand why these people believe there is such little hope for them, frightened as they are into submission by the military. However, a small band of revolutionists are forming who will attempt to overthrow the government. Although some support the revolution, many are fearful of the repurcussions. This is perfectly exemplified in the movie through the tragic moments of warfare between the goverment and revolutionists when the people shut their doors and windows to the frantic rebels, refusing to offer shelter lest they be punished for aiding this valiant yet doomed revolution.

   Nevertheless, the band of young revolutionists fronted brilliantly by Eddie Redmayne and Aaron Tveit as Marius and Enjolras, are so passionate and valiant that you cannot help but hope for their victory despite the odds stacked against them. They are outnumbered and under-armed, but remain stoic and brave and determined to stay true to their fight for justice. Towards the end of the movie as this group confront their fate, the image of the rebels trapped into a corner in the room they once used to voice their liberal ideals and freedoms is nothing short of heart-breaking. The men resign themselves to their fate, remaining brave and loyal to the bitter end despite the doomed certainty of their fate.

   One of the most incongruous aspects of the film is how vast and yet how limited the locations of the film feel. On one hand we see a vast concrete expanse where the convicts heave the warship into port; a towering precipice where Russel Crowe stands and looks out upon a wonderfully dark and Gothic Paris skyline and the huge sanctuary where Hugh Jackman's Valjean takes refuge. Yet on the other the set feels tiny and stage-like, such as the small corner where the rebels have barricaded themselves that has the theatrical dimensions of a set-piece and the look of a painted back-drop. There are surely many arguments for this staging convention but upon first viewing is slightly disorientating and breaks up the immersive flow of the film.

   Another lower point in the film is the rendition of Master of the House. With no disrespect to Helena Bohnam-Carter and Sascha Baron Cohen's performances, which are both highly entertaining and a welcome distraction from the misery of the other songs, I cannot help but feel that I have watched them play these characters in this situation before in Tim Burton's Sweeny Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007).

   Despite this, I always judge a good film on its power to play on your mind even days after first viewing it. This film did exactly that. The songs were powerful and the story and performances so emotional that you cannot help but question how you would feel if it was you or your brother, your son, your father, your mother, your child in this situation. It produced in me a feeling of despair that seem to come from the very depths of my heart. Empty Chairs At Empty Tables was my highlight of the film, exemplifying the fleetingness of life; how quickly all the passions of those young men who fought for justice have been wiped away; the importance of seizing life and happiness while we can, and remaining hopeful that at the end of the day life is more than just another day over. 

   Emotional from start to finish, not faultless, but gut-wrenching and haunting and the beginning of a new era in movie musicals.

The Relay on the Road: A history within reach?

Little did I know that when my dad asked if I would take a stall for my jewellery at the Royal Highland Centre in Ingliston in aid of the Motability "Under One Roof" exhibition that I would find so much reference to the Olympics and especially the Torch Relay.

I went with my dad to work to help him set up the hall. When we first arrived the hall was a vast, cold empty space with nothing but a few cables and fire extinguishers. Then the various cars began to arrive for the Motability motor show, from BMW to
Nissan, Volkswagen and Alfa Romeo. The cars were then carefully arranged in almost regimental fashion and polished and shined up to perfection. Upon closer inspection (and admiration) of the cars I noticed that the BMW cars all sported a cardboard Olympic Torch (an official one) and a sign that promoted the arrival of the Torch at the Eastern Motor Company in Edinburgh on Saturday the 9th of June, where visitors would be able to get their pictures with the Torch and autographs from various athletes as well. The blurb on the other side of these advertisements read that the Torch would provide "History within Reach". Without sounding brainwashed from corporate advertising, I happen to think this slogan just about sums up what the Torch Relay might provide for local communities, but also the reasons why people might find it a little limited. The Torch Relay is making history, a once in a lifetime opportunity for people to see the Torch pass through the very streets, villages, shops and offices where they live and work on a daily basis. A chance to stand on the same pavements they stand every day of their lives to see the historic torch pass through, carried by someone specially selected to represent their area. But history within reach also suggests that it is just that: reachable, but not touchable. So we can go out and stand behind our gates and be kept back by authorities and we can watch the Torch pass us by, we can take pictures of it and remember it forever through the lens of a camera, but a quick glimpse is really about all we will ever get to reaching it. We can reach but we can't touch. Unless of course we were lucky enough to carry it. Or rich enough to buy it on Ebay!

I also randomly got to see the limited edition London 2012 Mini, which on first inspection I thought was a really sweet and subtle nod to the year of the Union Jack. The car is a gorgeous Royal blue, with a red, white and blue strip down the front left hand side of the bonnet, the interior is leather with a red, white and blue strip around the head rests, and the most stunning part of all is the London skyline on the front of the glove compartment. What better symbol of London than the Mini? And here's a specially made London edition of the Mini, it can't get much more London than that! And then I saw that it was only £49 for a deposit on the car. So here's a specially designed limited edition Mini and it is a little bit cheaper than all the rest! Then I saw the roof top of the car. And emblazoned on the top is a huge London 2012 official Olympic symbol and suddenly the cheaper car begins to make sense.

 It seems to me that if you ever wanted a physical answer to the question of how big and lasting an impact will the London Olympic games have on Great Britain, then here it is. How long, really, would you want to drive about in a car with a huge Olympic logo on the top? It was a really sweet car until I saw the logo. I'm not against the logo, I don't have issues with it, but this car looked like it belonged on the road, driving behind the Relay, a sponsored car for this special event, not something you would ever want to own, nor be able to drive on the roads without a little bit of embarassment. It would probably last the two weeks the Games are on and then you would want to either sell it or hide it in your garage in the hope that it might be worth something more some day. Unless of course you could get the logo removed and it would be a really cool London Mini, but then that might just defeat the point of it being an official Olympic car...

My mum and I then went about setting up our stall (what I was actually there to do), talking to the visitors, chatting about the motor show. Some time passed and then my dad notifies me that there will be a Team GB althlete making her way to the motor show shortly. And I can't really believe my luck! Here I am randomly at an event that I didn't expect to have much connection with the Olympics and I am inundated with Olympic references and now I might just get the chance to speak to an athlete! I thought this would be great material for the #CitizenRelay project.

One of the organisers of the event, a lovely lady called Fiona, even introduces me to Lynsey Sharp, Team GB middle distance runner, and I pluck up the courage to ask if she wouldn't mind doing a quick interview with me. So I spend five or so minutes thinking up some questions then we go and have a chat about her involvment in the Torch Relay, the pressures of the Games being on home turf, the lasting impact of the games and if it encourages fitness and better sport facilities for the people of Scotland.

Lynsey was very lovely to talk to and extremely helpful with her answers, and I can only wish her all the best of luck for the future! If you would like to know a little bit more information about her then you should check out this website http://www.inthewinningzone.com/wz/Magazine/September-2008---Paralympic-Special/Committed-to-Excellence/349/

Lynsey has shown extremely inspirational dedication to her sport, and there is no better example of this than the fact that she has been training in an old railway tunnel in Edinburgh because, as she says in her interview with the Daily Record:


“I hate running on the treadmill and didn’t want to risk injury on the icy pavements.
“My mum remembered an old railway tunnel near Edinburgh’s Commonwealth swimming pool from her training days and we went to see if it was still there.
“It was, and it has been my alternative racing track since. It’s dark, dingy and smelly, but it’s nearly 700m long and protects me from all types of weather.”
(http://www.dailyrecord.co.uk/news/editors-choice/2012/01/01/scots-sprinter-goes-underground-to-chase-her-olympic-dream-86908-23672476/)

What better legacy then could the London 2012 games leave than to have the opportunity to provide better training facilities for up and coming athletes like Lynsey to perform to their full potential without having to train in this environment. Although this kind of environment proves that Lynsey is tough and dedicated to her sport, perhaps the London Games and the Glasgow Commonwealth Games in 2014 will help to provide facilities at a more professional level for athletes who aim high toward their Olympic dream. As Lynsey mentions in our interview, there have already been examples of this with the completion of the reopening of an athletics pool in Glasgow in time for the Commonwealth Games. And perhaps this Olympic pool will allow new generations of athletes to train in much better facilities and perhaps even perform even better in future professional games. This is something that is very much a promotional tool for the London 2012 games, with much of the building work for the London games claiming to be "with legacy in mind" http://www.dailyrecord.co.uk/news/editors-choice/2012/01/01/scots-sprinter-goes-underground-to-chase-her-olympic-dream-86908-23672476/. This is all fantastic to imagine but the age-old saying "only time will tell" is extremely applicable here, and will be something interesting to watch unfold (and possibly even report on in the future!).  

What a random day it was for me, I didn't expect to get any #CitizenRelay content at all but there I was with an interview with an athlete and lots of photographs to take with me! It also makes me really glad to have undertaken this project because it just goes to show that you can report from anywhere, at any time, using such little equipment as a pen and paper and a decent smart phone! You don't have to have the full package of fancy cameras and recording equipment, and you don't need to have a connection with a big media organisation like the BBC to be able to talk to people and report on your findings. If you would like to follow more community relay stories then follow #CitizenRelay on Twitter for up to the minute stories and photographs of the Relay!

Putting the United in United Kingdom?

The Olympic Torch has officially begun its journey around the United Kingdom in the build up for the 2012 London Games in July. Apparently the atmosphere in London is something close to electric as people begin their double celebrations for the Queen's Diamond Jubilee on June the Fourth, and in preparation for the Games. But what about the rest of the United Kingdom? Is there a buzz in the air for people in Scotland about the Olympics? Is the Torch Relay generating excitement here? Is it helping to keep the 'United' in United Kingdom? Well, operating as a #CitizenRelay reporter, I asked a couple of locals from the Falkirk area what they felt about the Torch Relay and the Olympics as a whole:

As you can tell from these responses, there is a feeling amongst people in Scotland that there isn't really much to do here for the Olympics, other than the Relay going past a few places, and that the London Olympics are very much just that, London's Olympics. And this opinion is entirely justified, if you don't feel that you are involved, and if you aren't much interested in sports, then why should you get excited about it? And these are some of the reasons why some people decide that they aren't interested in doing anything for the Relay themselves.

But I happen to have a slightly different view point to this, which can of course be disputed too. One of the biggest factors that has drawn me to this project is the idea of community, and getting the chance to chat to people in my local area about their views on the Olympics. I know it is understandable that if you haven't been actively engaging with the Relay as I have, then you might be tempted to think that there isn't really much for us to do here to celebrate the Olympics. But aside from the torch passing through every living room in every home in Scotland, the Relay couldn't really do much more than it is already doing, surely?

To me, the definition of community means a group of local people coming together in unison in support of a particular idea, argument or event. And that's exactly the way I feel about the Relay. Surely as a community coming together to share this historic event, we don't need official organisers to help us do this. We don't need someone to say "At 12:15 on the 13th of June such and such a street and such and such a street will have an Olympics party at such and such place." That's just insulting to us anyway. If the community want to feel a part of it then they can make themselves a part of it. If we don't feel like they are bothering about us then let's make them bother about us. If you are interested in celebrating the Olympics then why not have a street party? Or a BBQ? A dinner party? An Olympics themed quiz night with friends?

The thing we are all most excited about is the fact that this is something that will probably never happen again in our lifetimes. When will the Torch ever pass through my neighbourhood again? Chances are, never. So instead of feeling unincluded, let's make ourselves included. When your Grandkids say "What did you do when the Torch came past your street all those years ago?" do you want to say "Oh, nothing, there was nothing happening for us in Scotland". Or would you rather say "Well, actually, we had an Olympics party and we all got together and watched the torch coming past our street and had an Olympic themed day at work..." Even if you don't much like sport, the Olympics are about countries coming together bringing their best athletes to compete in a competition that celebrates our strengths, hard work and talents, not only in athletics but in many other areas too, such as architecture, art, tourism and schools. So if you want to feel a part of that then make your own celebrations!

However, from my own observations I will say that the community projects that are organised by officials are very geared towards the younger generation. And of course this is important because if it teaches kids about fitness and encourages them to get active then that can only be a good thing for a future healthier Scotland. Recently I acted as an official witness for Big Dance 2012, a series of organised events across the UK to celebrate the diversity of dance, in hundreds of different places such as schools, high streets and parks. This is all part of London2012 Festival, which is the culmination of the 2012 Cultural Olympiad.

http://www.bigdance2012.com/

The particular event I attended was at a local primary school where pupils from Primary 1 to 7 joined schools across the UK to participate in a danceathon using various Olympic themed dances, such as swimming, running and cycling, in order to beat the Guinness World Record for most dancers dancing at the one time! The pupils in the school I visited were extremely excited as their normal Physical Education classes had been taken over by learning these dance routines for the record for the past few weeks. And as if they weren't all hyper enough, as soon as it was announced that someone from the Falkirk Herald had come to take their photograph, they went absolutely beserk! And this was the moment that touched me the most, and made me forget about all the economic arguments about the Olympics and worrying about how involved Scotland feels. It made these kids' day to know that what they were doing was important enough to be in the Falkirk Herald! It made them feel special and significant and super excited! Somebody cared what they were doing enough to take their picture! And maybe there are things in the bigger picture to think about, but for that one minute this little community felt like someone cared about them, and to me, if the Relay makes even just one person from one little community feel special then it can't be such a bad thing to want to get involved!

I do agree though with much of what my interviewees said about the lasting impact of the games. Whilst it is encouraging that an ethos of fitness and healthy lifestyle is being generated by excitement surrounding the games, how long might this last? Will we indeed just think about the next Olympics as soon as this one is over? What will happen to the stadiums? Is it wrong to think about the end before it has even begun?