I never did find that one blogging platform I liked.
All the posts from this blog and any future posts have moved over to my blog at wordpress.com
Friday, 28 October 2011
Thursday, 27 October 2011
excuse me, I fell asleep on the platform.
My third year film dissertation topic: Britain photographed and representing itself and its fears (subconscious claustrophobia and paranoia) in contemporary horror.
This is a topic I've had in my head for about two years. I remember the first time I watched 28 Weeks Later. It wasn't the images of apocalyptic Britain that I found to be terrifying, the loss of an entire group of human beings that I relate with, and their unique culture. It was the aftermath that 28 Weeks Later covered, and in particular the presence of America; the way in which they "heroically" descend upon the lost city and their vision of themselves being the total antithesis to the London setting and English people.
Thinking about this further, I came to the conclusion that post-apocalyptic films like 28 Days Later and 28 Weeks are distinctly different offerings to what you'd expect from an American film with the same kind of screenplay. The British idiosyncrasies are so clear not only in the direction of the plot (the cynical keep calm and carry on attitudes and endings where most of the characters die) but are interwoven into the location choices, mise-en-scéne, and even just the photographic framing.
So, I'm taking this idea further and investigating the claims I've just made, in a series of three contemporary British horrors (not just post-apocalyptic), analysing their photography, characters and stories for evidence, and also there standing in a historical context. Is this subconscious fear, claustrophobic paranoia, something that's been inherent in British people since we first became isolated habitants of a tiny, self-contained island? Or is it something newer? Does the constant reminder of the modern global village and the saturation of corporative American media do nothing but remind us of how we will always be physically seperated from it?
Core film texts (as of Oct 2011)
The Descent (dir. Neil Marshall, 2005)
This isn't a popular film among my peers it seems. But I think it's an effective horror film, with the ideal equilibrium found between aural fear and visual fear. I don't need to explain much in terms of why I've chosen this, surely? Most of it is set inside a cave, filmed in small crevices and tunnels, in nothing but torchlight. But not only this - even the exterior scenes are filmed in a distinctly small scale, claustrophobic way. American horror films usually exaggerate the landscape, make it rolling and endless. In this, even the great outdoors is confined, the frame full, the mountains and trees are intimidating rather than a symbol of freedom and fresh air. I can also talk about the kind of "monsters" here. British horrors usually have a very clear type of monster and reasons for said monster existing, and I've chosen my other core films for their similar monster types.
Creep (dir. Christopher Smith, 2004)
The London Underground. A ripe setting for a confined, tight and dark horror film. We have the same kind of aural scares in Creep as you find in The Descent - the screeching, incoherence of the "monster". Like I explained before, Creep maintains the 'minimal survivors' rule, and at no point does any character really try to act the hero. Actually, the self-contained, independent and slightly self-obsessed characters represent quite well Britain as a whole, and how it sees itself.
28 Weeks Later (dir. Juan Carlos Fresnadillo, 2007)
I chose 28 Weeks Later especially for the American presence in the film, and how we can compare that to the British side. America likes to present itself as grandiose and as brave as possible. Britain is effectively the opposite, and I love how these subtlely play against each other in the being of 28 Weeks Later. In the end, we can argue Britain wins out...
Maybe I'll prove my own theory wrong.
Ask me in May 2012.
This is a topic I've had in my head for about two years. I remember the first time I watched 28 Weeks Later. It wasn't the images of apocalyptic Britain that I found to be terrifying, the loss of an entire group of human beings that I relate with, and their unique culture. It was the aftermath that 28 Weeks Later covered, and in particular the presence of America; the way in which they "heroically" descend upon the lost city and their vision of themselves being the total antithesis to the London setting and English people.
Thinking about this further, I came to the conclusion that post-apocalyptic films like 28 Days Later and 28 Weeks are distinctly different offerings to what you'd expect from an American film with the same kind of screenplay. The British idiosyncrasies are so clear not only in the direction of the plot (the cynical keep calm and carry on attitudes and endings where most of the characters die) but are interwoven into the location choices, mise-en-scéne, and even just the photographic framing.
So, I'm taking this idea further and investigating the claims I've just made, in a series of three contemporary British horrors (not just post-apocalyptic), analysing their photography, characters and stories for evidence, and also there standing in a historical context. Is this subconscious fear, claustrophobic paranoia, something that's been inherent in British people since we first became isolated habitants of a tiny, self-contained island? Or is it something newer? Does the constant reminder of the modern global village and the saturation of corporative American media do nothing but remind us of how we will always be physically seperated from it?
Core film texts (as of Oct 2011)
The Descent (dir. Neil Marshall, 2005)
This isn't a popular film among my peers it seems. But I think it's an effective horror film, with the ideal equilibrium found between aural fear and visual fear. I don't need to explain much in terms of why I've chosen this, surely? Most of it is set inside a cave, filmed in small crevices and tunnels, in nothing but torchlight. But not only this - even the exterior scenes are filmed in a distinctly small scale, claustrophobic way. American horror films usually exaggerate the landscape, make it rolling and endless. In this, even the great outdoors is confined, the frame full, the mountains and trees are intimidating rather than a symbol of freedom and fresh air. I can also talk about the kind of "monsters" here. British horrors usually have a very clear type of monster and reasons for said monster existing, and I've chosen my other core films for their similar monster types.
Creep (dir. Christopher Smith, 2004)
The London Underground. A ripe setting for a confined, tight and dark horror film. We have the same kind of aural scares in Creep as you find in The Descent - the screeching, incoherence of the "monster". Like I explained before, Creep maintains the 'minimal survivors' rule, and at no point does any character really try to act the hero. Actually, the self-contained, independent and slightly self-obsessed characters represent quite well Britain as a whole, and how it sees itself.
28 Weeks Later (dir. Juan Carlos Fresnadillo, 2007)
I chose 28 Weeks Later especially for the American presence in the film, and how we can compare that to the British side. America likes to present itself as grandiose and as brave as possible. Britain is effectively the opposite, and I love how these subtlely play against each other in the being of 28 Weeks Later. In the end, we can argue Britain wins out...
Maybe I'll prove my own theory wrong.
Ask me in May 2012.
Monday, 24 October 2011
porcelain.
South Bank on the Thames, London. My favourite place in the city. Maybe the world. My absolute muse.
Saturday, 15 October 2011
recently watched #20
Since my last film recap, I've watched many films. Some brilliant, some worthy of watching constantly without getting bored, and some I'd rather not go back to. Here are four of the most interesting. For different reasons, of course.
Tron: Legacy (dir. Joseph Kosinski, 2010) I watched the original Tron (1982) directly before watching this. I can't say I liked it that much. It's everything you want in terms of a smart sci-fi plot with young Jeff Bridges but in parts it's totally incoherent in ways that made me just not want to bother. But having had the Tron: Legacy soundtrack by Daft Punk sitting in my iTunes library, well listened to and loved for over six months beforehand, I thought I'd better at least see what the sequel had to offer.
Basic premise of Tron - A computer hacker (Jeff Bridges) finds himself trapped inside the computer. Basic premise of Tron:Legacy - said computer hacker (Jeff Bridges) has been missing for some years. His now adult son, accidentally finds himself trapped inside the computer. He finds his father. He and his father must find way to escape.
I adored it within the first 30 seconds, and I can pinpoint the absolutely superb soundtrack as what makes it what it is. I'm not sure what came first, the visuals or the aural treats but they work so perfectly in sync that just thinking about the intro with Jeff Bridges talking (in that epic-trailer-voiceover-gravel-in-his-throat voice) about The Grid, gives me goosebumps. So it's mostly computer generated imagery, sleek and smooth and minimal and nothing like the original Tron. But despite this, it doesn't seem too self-obsessed with its own style. It just works, it looks and sounds good, and the film at a little over two hours may feel a bit long but it keeps the action up, is much easier to understand and let's just say, the costume designer needs and deserves kudos.
Made in Dagenham (dir. Nigel Cole, 2010) This was recommended to me by a close friend who shares my young feminist point of views. Made in Dagenham is a British dramatisation of the 1968 Ford car plant strike, and even with this keyword 'dramatisation', it makes me so proud. Its simple, near kitchen sink direction places it back neatly in the sixties. The fight against sexual discrimination isn't portrayed in the seemingly popular man-hating, extremist way - instead, this is a story about hard-working women, some married, some young and single, fighting together and in some cases risking their marriages and relationships, to change the face of politics for an entire sex. Feminism doesn't happen overnight and it isn't finished. And perhaps one of the best themes Made in Dagenham picks up on, and makes endearing, exciting and hilarious, is the concept of the male feminist!
Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (dir. Tomas Alfredson, 2011) Search for this on IMDB. Look at cast list. Weep with joy, and watch it. What else can I say. Gary Oldman, Benedict Cumberbatch, Colin Firth… directed by Tomas Alfredson of Let the Right One In. The Swedish director has made an inherently British offering, keeping a hold of the drab, slow elegance of the book by John le Carré. Some critics have argued that Tinker Tailor is too slow in fact, but I beg to ask if they've actually read the book or grasped the point of making it so. It's a very British thing I feel, to make such self-deprecation and aching slowness so beautiful, and put within the context and the era, a fast moving action film would not work.
The set design is exquisite, portraying a listless and dreary London of the 1970s, and coupled with gorgeous photography, seamless editing, and a melancholic colour palette, I ask you to find me better. Gary Oldman is perfect as George Smiley, establishing within the first five minutes with minimal dialogue and slow performance, his lost, morose and depressed existence.
What upsets me is how underrated Benedict Cumberbatch's performance has been by the mainstream media. I might be biased… but while the rest of the cast is totally deserving of praise, Benedict Cumberbatch's Peter Guillam is definitely one of the most important characters, and somehow just through subtle facial expressions and flawlessly delivered dialogue (one of my favourite scenes being angry Guillam when he meets Ricki Tarr (Tom Hardy) after a long unexplained absence) you feel his loyalty for Smiley, and totally feel his angst during his one fleeting subplot about his personal relationships.
I desperately hope that Oscars are awarded for this. British film at its absolute optimum.
Rubber (dir. Quentin Dupieux, 2010) Basically, Rubber is a film about a tyre called Robert (yes, really) that becomes self-aware, discovers 'he' has telekinetic powers and through sheer willpower (who says tyres can't have willpower?) can make any living things head explode. And so, we follow his journey, killing people who get in his way, and becoming obsessed with a girl. It sounds ridiculous, and it is. It sounds like a spoof, but it isn't. But it has so many redeeming factors and does appear to have reasoning for its farcical plot, that I can't help but think this it's nothing but inspired and original in ways so many films lack.
It's beautifully filmed as far as films about killer tyres go. It isn't too long. And it doesn't at any point take itself seriously. Rubber laughs at itself and it laughs at the viewer for watching it, and the longer you watch the more it laughs at you. It plays with diegesis' - the happenings of the film are being watched by an audience on screen, an audience that represent us. At some points, they're bored. One man jumps diegesis near the end and starts talking to the actors, offering advice on how he thinks the action should go. At the end, Robert is reincarnated into a tricycle, and rolls down the street, other tricycles and tyres appearing at his side as he goes.
Rubber is an acquired taste. If you can get the fact it's not serious and can go with it, you'll find the hilarity woven into its being. If you're one of those who insists a spade is a spade, probably one for you to miss.
Tron: Legacy (dir. Joseph Kosinski, 2010) I watched the original Tron (1982) directly before watching this. I can't say I liked it that much. It's everything you want in terms of a smart sci-fi plot with young Jeff Bridges but in parts it's totally incoherent in ways that made me just not want to bother. But having had the Tron: Legacy soundtrack by Daft Punk sitting in my iTunes library, well listened to and loved for over six months beforehand, I thought I'd better at least see what the sequel had to offer.
Basic premise of Tron - A computer hacker (Jeff Bridges) finds himself trapped inside the computer. Basic premise of Tron:Legacy - said computer hacker (Jeff Bridges) has been missing for some years. His now adult son, accidentally finds himself trapped inside the computer. He finds his father. He and his father must find way to escape.
I adored it within the first 30 seconds, and I can pinpoint the absolutely superb soundtrack as what makes it what it is. I'm not sure what came first, the visuals or the aural treats but they work so perfectly in sync that just thinking about the intro with Jeff Bridges talking (in that epic-trailer-voiceover-gravel-in-his-throat voice) about The Grid, gives me goosebumps. So it's mostly computer generated imagery, sleek and smooth and minimal and nothing like the original Tron. But despite this, it doesn't seem too self-obsessed with its own style. It just works, it looks and sounds good, and the film at a little over two hours may feel a bit long but it keeps the action up, is much easier to understand and let's just say, the costume designer needs and deserves kudos.
Made in Dagenham (dir. Nigel Cole, 2010) This was recommended to me by a close friend who shares my young feminist point of views. Made in Dagenham is a British dramatisation of the 1968 Ford car plant strike, and even with this keyword 'dramatisation', it makes me so proud. Its simple, near kitchen sink direction places it back neatly in the sixties. The fight against sexual discrimination isn't portrayed in the seemingly popular man-hating, extremist way - instead, this is a story about hard-working women, some married, some young and single, fighting together and in some cases risking their marriages and relationships, to change the face of politics for an entire sex. Feminism doesn't happen overnight and it isn't finished. And perhaps one of the best themes Made in Dagenham picks up on, and makes endearing, exciting and hilarious, is the concept of the male feminist!
Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (dir. Tomas Alfredson, 2011) Search for this on IMDB. Look at cast list. Weep with joy, and watch it. What else can I say. Gary Oldman, Benedict Cumberbatch, Colin Firth… directed by Tomas Alfredson of Let the Right One In. The Swedish director has made an inherently British offering, keeping a hold of the drab, slow elegance of the book by John le Carré. Some critics have argued that Tinker Tailor is too slow in fact, but I beg to ask if they've actually read the book or grasped the point of making it so. It's a very British thing I feel, to make such self-deprecation and aching slowness so beautiful, and put within the context and the era, a fast moving action film would not work.
The set design is exquisite, portraying a listless and dreary London of the 1970s, and coupled with gorgeous photography, seamless editing, and a melancholic colour palette, I ask you to find me better. Gary Oldman is perfect as George Smiley, establishing within the first five minutes with minimal dialogue and slow performance, his lost, morose and depressed existence.
What upsets me is how underrated Benedict Cumberbatch's performance has been by the mainstream media. I might be biased… but while the rest of the cast is totally deserving of praise, Benedict Cumberbatch's Peter Guillam is definitely one of the most important characters, and somehow just through subtle facial expressions and flawlessly delivered dialogue (one of my favourite scenes being angry Guillam when he meets Ricki Tarr (Tom Hardy) after a long unexplained absence) you feel his loyalty for Smiley, and totally feel his angst during his one fleeting subplot about his personal relationships.
I desperately hope that Oscars are awarded for this. British film at its absolute optimum.
Rubber (dir. Quentin Dupieux, 2010) Basically, Rubber is a film about a tyre called Robert (yes, really) that becomes self-aware, discovers 'he' has telekinetic powers and through sheer willpower (who says tyres can't have willpower?) can make any living things head explode. And so, we follow his journey, killing people who get in his way, and becoming obsessed with a girl. It sounds ridiculous, and it is. It sounds like a spoof, but it isn't. But it has so many redeeming factors and does appear to have reasoning for its farcical plot, that I can't help but think this it's nothing but inspired and original in ways so many films lack.
It's beautifully filmed as far as films about killer tyres go. It isn't too long. And it doesn't at any point take itself seriously. Rubber laughs at itself and it laughs at the viewer for watching it, and the longer you watch the more it laughs at you. It plays with diegesis' - the happenings of the film are being watched by an audience on screen, an audience that represent us. At some points, they're bored. One man jumps diegesis near the end and starts talking to the actors, offering advice on how he thinks the action should go. At the end, Robert is reincarnated into a tricycle, and rolls down the street, other tricycles and tyres appearing at his side as he goes.
Rubber is an acquired taste. If you can get the fact it's not serious and can go with it, you'll find the hilarity woven into its being. If you're one of those who insists a spade is a spade, probably one for you to miss.
strawberry letter 23.
Update from my photo journal, mamiya cc20, and I've also begun experimenting with processing my own colour film.
Sunday, 7 August 2011
a natural palette.
I'm using tumblr for a more regular photography, non-text blog, as you can upload photographs straight onto the site and the quality isn't reduced. Have a look at everything in between here.
Tuesday, 2 August 2011
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