Saturday 28 May 2011

Saving Private Ryan... for clever people

Cannes Film Festival 2011’s Palme d’Or has been awarded to the elusive, reclusive and Terry Pratchett lookalike Terence Malick for his fifth film, The Tree of Life – having, what head of the jury Robert de Niro described as, “the size, the importance, the intention, whatever you want to call it” to merit such an accolade. Past winners of the Palme d’Or include Martin Scorsese’s Taxi Driver (1976), starring the head of the jury himself, and Francis Ford Coppola’s epic, Apocalypse Now (1979). Incidentally, both have been re-released in cinemas just recently.

True to his mysterious form, Malick was not present to collect the award personally. The director – who also writes the screenplay for all his films – is vehemently protective of his privacy, refusing even to conduct interviews.
The fact that there have been such lengthy gaps between projects is another of his idiosyncrasies that makes him all the more curious. But what Malick lacks in output, he makes up for in punch: his films beautiful, thoughtful and moving.

The Thin Red Line (1998), described as Saving Private Ryan for clever people by film critic Mark Kermode, takes its premise from James Jones’ autobiographical book of the same name. Nominated for seven Academy Awards, the film is set in 1942 on Guadalcanal in the Solomon Islands (north west of Australia) and follows the attempt of C company to reclaim possession of the island from its Japanese occupiers.

Unlike a long lineage of war films that have been made before and after it, Malick’s depiction of war in The Thin Red Line (literally, “a thinly spread military unit holding firm against attack”) focuses on each soldier’s personal psychological, emotional and moral turmoil, with little concern for the era’s political and historical trifles. Malick uses the front line as an arena in which to explore broader issues such as the nonsensical nature of war, the ability of human beings to be both macabre and altruistic, the futility of man in this world and the inexorable continuation of nature.
Man versus Nature... The Thin Red Line is set on Guadalcanal, Solomon Islands

The New World (2005) was made after The Thin Red Line and before his Palme d’Or winning The Tree of Life. It is the story of Captain John Smith and Pocahontas and the love that blossoms between them in Virginia in 1607, after she saves Smith from death at the hand of her people. Similarly to The Thin Red Line, The New World is a story told in two halves: Smith’s departure for England, Rebecca’s – as she becomes known – marriage to John Rolfe (Christian Bale) and their journey to England the second and definitely more potent and stunning half of the film. Nature’s glory features yet more heavily in the latter film, as well as the destruction that humans are capable of, Imperialism and the beauty of love between two people.

Malick is not afraid to portray some of war’s atrocities with unabashed intensity. Japanese prisoners of wars sit unclothed – and, Malick would have us realise, no longer distinguishable as the enemy without their uniforms – covered in dirt and staring up insanely and imploringly. American soldiers vent their stress and angst onto their enemy; Gold teeth or wrenched from the mouths of the prisoners. Later the thief stares with disgust at the spoils in his hand before throwing them away and shivering in the pouring raining, sobbing. A close up of a soil-covered hand smacks unavoidably of that of a cadaver’s.

In an earlier scene, Captain Staros (Elias Koteas) considers putting one of his soldiers out of his pain after he is shot, asking his medic, “can you give him the vials (of morphine) all at once?” The audience is forced to consider their own view on euthanasia and realise what barbaric situations war forces man into. Malick has a knack of conveying such raw sentiment without resorting to melodramatics or cliché.

Watching both The New World and The Thin Red Line, one wonders why Malick hasn’t branched out into nature programs. His cinematography would rival anything narrated by David Attenborough. The sky always looks amazing; colours are acid-intense; animals are repeatedly captured, contrasting with human folly and reminding us that nature remains despite all this. Chicks hatch from their eggs under bullet fire.

The voice over is one of Malick’s most notable signatures, giving us direct insight into the thoughts and feelings of his characters. As well as delving into the soldiers’ moral battles during battle, Private Bell’s (Ben Chaplin) longing for his wife is explored with flashbacks to scenes between the couple; the memories so discordant and antithetical to the scenes of war they are incorporated with.  There is always such poetic beauty in his writing, none more so than, “We. We together. One being. Flow together like water ‘til I can’t tell you from me. I drink you. Now. Now.” Words that are echoed by Pocahontas in The New World – “You flows through me, like a river”.

Love is not presented in a conventionally romantic way, making the concept even more desirable. The chemistry and bond between two people is made so real and palpable it is almost too much to bear.
Relationships – Pocohontas and Smith; Rolfe and Rebecca; Staros and his wife – are portrayed using a dearth of words. It is all in the body language, the touch of the skin, the caress of hands, which makes the more laudable and wonderful of man’s tendencies seem more akin to… animals.

The Thin Red Line was meant to turn its actors into stars. But after reducing the original cut from five hours to the eventual two hours fifty minutes, Billy Bob Thornton, Martin Sheen, Gary Oldman, Bill Pullman, Viggo Mortensen and Mickey Rourke were wiped clean from the reel. The remaining cast is still pretty impressive (Sean Penn, Adrien Brody, Jim Caviezel, Ben Chaplin, George Clooney, John Cusack, Woody Harrelson, Elias Koteas, Nick Nolte, John C. Reilly, John Travlota) but each assumes what end up to be supporting roles. Small roles, but all superbly portrayed. None better than Nick Nolte as Colonel Tall – think Lieutenant Colonel “I love the smell of napalm in the morning” Kilgore from Apocalypse Now – the ruthless superior to the humane Captain Staros, who has no compunction about sending his men to their deaths.

In Malick’s films so much is expressed and acted with the eyes, more so than dialogue, which preludes bad actors. Luckily for his supreme talent (and elusiveness), Malick has his pick of the bunch with the crème de la crème ready to cut off their hands to work with him.

The New World gave Colin Farrell an opportunity to do some convincing and more substantial acting. (Can the same be done for Robert Pattinson?) The tenderness with which he gazes at Pocahontas is so intense; it is almost like being in the scene as the girl herself. Q'orianka Kilche was only fifteen when The New World was made and did a magnificent job of portraying the sort of emotions that many women don’t experience until their twenties. Christian Bale is just as successful in his portrayal of Rolfe as he ever is and as we expect him to be.

Terence Malick has been compared to Stanley Kubrick for his similar reclusiveness, glorious cinematography, diverse choice of subject matter and meticulous attention to detail. Neither director has any qualms about producing shots and sequences that take their time – designed to be savoured. Watching Malick’s films, one feels as if each stunning shot is worthy of an analysis and that each has been lovingly crafted, polished and perfected. And indeed, it is possible to see many aesthetic similarities between The Thin Red Line and Kubrik’s seminal 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968). The footage of his (and Kubrik’s) films contain none of the visual “background noise” characteristic of films produced and consumed en mass.

If The Thin Red Line is Saving Private Ryan for cleaver people, then The New World could be described as a Space Odyssey for people who love nature – the exploration of new frontiers, alien species, death, primordial man versus new technology and long passages without dialogue. Wonderful music is another trait the two films have in common. While Strauss provided the sounds for Space Odyssey, James Horner – who also created the music for Avatar – wrote the score for The New World.

However, Malick’s tale of colonialism did successfully what James Cameron’s Avatar tried and failed to do four years later: retell the story of Pocahontas, show us why Imperialism is bad and create orgasmically glorious views of Nature.

Here is a true visual artist who makes up in quality what he lacks in quantity.
The Thin Red Line and The New World are both masterpieces that can be enjoyed like a novel – slowly, dipped into (their plot flow is second to the message) and most certainly more than once.

Tuesday 24 May 2011

Geek-chic: Science Fiction gets a makeover

Out of this World: 
Science Fiction but not as you know it
20 May – 25 September 2011
The Brilliant British Library’s intrepid new exhibition.

The small, dusty and cramped environs of the Imperial College science fiction library may serve as a true reflection of how the genre is valued and viewed by many… and this is the science fiction library of the country’s leading science university. The tiny library houses over 7000 books and 1000 films: extrapolate those figures to get a more realistic size of the realm of science fiction on a global scale.

Despite its geeky connotations, science fiction pervades all manner of media around us, and has done for millennia. From Thor and Inception to Lucian of Samosata’s True History dating back to the second century AD, which tells of a group of explorers visiting strange lands and then being lifted to the Moon via a waterspout.

Anyone who claims not to enjoy science fiction is probably lying… or at least unaware of the myriad of themes, premises, styles and storylines it encompasses. If you search hard enough through the back catalogue of books and films you have enjoyed, you may be surprised at how many could be classified as such.

Upon uttering the words “sci fi”, it is easy to immediately conjure images of aliens or scenes from Star Trek. And, undoubtedly, these fall very much under the category of sci-fi. As humankind develops, time moves forward and technology progresses so too does the types of science fiction we create.

It helps us confront ethical issues associated with the exponential expansion in our scientific knowledge and the added responsibility to planet and people it entails. It lets us come to terms with uncomfortable truths and uncomfortable potential truths; it gives us free rein to philosophise about the nature of reality and our place in the world; it allows denizens living under authoritarian governments to satirise and question the status quo; and, in a very Freudian way, it gives us an arena in which to escape and act out “illicit” fantasies.

Utopia is still a thoroughly contemporary concept. Both it and its opposite, Dystopia, have been a subject of investigation in fiction such as Aldous Huxley’s outstanding Brave New World and George Orwell’s 1984. However, the word was coined around the time of King Henry VIII by Thomas More, one of his loyal advisors, in a book he wrote describing the political system of an imagined world.

Cyrano de Bergerac also dabbled in the world of the fantastical. His 1657 book, Le Autre Monde: ou les États et Empires de la Lune (The Other World: The States and Empires of the Moon), Cyrano travels to the moon on a rocket powered by firecrackers to meet its inhabitants. One hundred odd years later and vehement supporter of civil liberties, Voltaire, published Micromégas  recounting the tale of a being who visits earth from another planet.

More modern sci-fi offerings include the epic Dune by Frank Herbert in which he creates in infinitesimal detail another world: replete with all the details of its own political, cultural, religious and social practices. Whether your interests lie in the scientific, the romantic or the aesthetic, Dune is guaranteed to enrapture you on at least one dimension.

What the world will be like in the future is another fascination of science fiction. Before the flurry in technological development of the 1700s, life did not alter greatly from generation to generation. The apparent absence of change would have also meant an absence of realisation that life over the coming decades and centuries would be different. The complete opposite is true now. Cormac McCarthy’s highly acclaimed book, The Road (also made into an intensely moving film by John Hillcoat starring Viggo Mortensen), gives us a harrowing vision of a post-apocalyptic earth.

A copy of the Daily Mail from the early twentieth century, but dated Saturday 1st January 2000, gives a snapshot of how people (or at least Daily Mail editors) thought Britain might be at the turn of the millennium. Yet more interesting is William Heath’s illustration March of Intellect, depicting the Grand Vacuum Tube Company’s (grand vacuum tube) running from London to Bengal and an apparently steam powered carriage – London to Bath in 6 hours – among many other new fangled, futuristic inventions of Heath’s imagination.

The above are but a few small rays of light that the British Library’s Out of This World exhibition shines on the super genre. The high-ceilinged, dark, cool interior of the PACCAR gallery creates a calm and reflective setting for its collection of literature, film, illustration and sound. Mixed with copies of original manuscript from the sixteenth century are interactive exhibits including a design your own alien station (your creation will be put on display after a mandatory trip through quarantine) and a chance to have an instant messaging conversation with a computer to test whether Artificial Intelligence can truly replace Human Intelligence. I got a wonderful smug sense of satisfaction when I succeeded in outwitting “Elizabeth” after my second question put to her.

The guest curator, Andy Sawyer, director of Science Fiction Studies MA at the University of Liverpool, has organised the collection into sections – Alien Worlds; Future Worlds; Parallel Worlds; Virtual Worlds; the End of the World and the Perfect World. These give us a framework with which to consider sci-fi as well as demonstrating the extent of its scope.

Lose yourself – for free! – in the countless concepts, presented succinctly and beautifully, at the British Library’s Out of This World. Give yourself a different perspective so that you may, perhaps, gain a more enlightened perspective on what you perceive to be reality.

The British Library is located on Euston Road, a few buildings down from St Pancras Station.

Monday 23 May 2011

Just the way I like It

British summer has officially begun. Shakespeare’s Globe theatre has set its band of players onto the road for three months of comedy – As You Like It. And what a riotous three months it promises to be. James Dacre directs a cast of eight who take on double that number of parts in this Victorian adaptation of one of Shakespeare’s most loved and revived comedies.

As You Like It contrasts court and country living, explores gender roles, revels in romantic love and would have offered audiences of the time space for a good few hours of escapism and rude jokes.
The staging and text of this adaptation teem with energy and there is rarely a moment when the actors are not bounding about the stage in the slickest and most controlled fashion – dispelling any preconceptions people may have had that the Bard is staid and heavy. The nimble, slap-stick element of the drama mixed with the audience’s shouting, laughing and cheering gives the show all the ebullience of pantomime, sans cringe factor. Indeed, Jacobean comedies such as As You Like It were the precursor to panto.

Gunner Cauthery is well cast as the youth Orlando, banished by his older brother Oliver from their home, lover and pursuer of Rosalind (Jo Herbert), who is required to assume the appearance of a man, change her name to Gannymede, and flee the court of her evil, usurping Uncle – the Duke Frederick.

The part of Rosalind has often made stars of those who assume it (Vanessa Redgrave, Helen Mirren) and it would not be surprising if the same thing happened to Jo Herbert. “Uncommon tall”, Herbert has a powerful stage presence and an equally powerful voice… and also a slight resemblance to the great Redgrave herself in her younger years!

She is accompanied to the Forest of Arden by her cousin Celia (Beth Park) and the motley fool, Touchstone (Gregory Gudgeon). Both Herbert and Park, as the comically exasperated Celia, bring a fantastic dynamism to the double act. Gudgeon as Touchstone is hilarious and one of the many highlights of the production, with his crude gestures and horn honking. At 300 lines, it is one of the largest parts for a fool among Shakespeare’s plays.

Counterpart to the fool is the melancholic Jaques. This production has incorporated a Madame Jaques, as opposed to a Monsieur Jaques, and Emma Pallant is stupenduous as the philosophising depressive. Clothed in an over-sized coat and slighty mannish in mannerism (but slight in stature), Pallant’s dark hair and large dark eyes conjure all the gloom required of Jaques and are also highly appropriate when she switches to playing “black silk haired” Phebe – the country girl, loved by bumpkin Silvius (Ben Lamb), who falls for Gannymede.

Ben Lamb shifts with ease back and forth between his three roles: flamboyant Le Beau of usurping Duke Frederick’s court; brawny wrestler Charles and faithful servant to Oliver; the love sick and spurned Silvius. Fight director Terry King has helped Cauthery and Lamb enact a realistic and brutal bare-knuckle boxing match between Orlando and Charles the Wrestler, carried off with precision and inciting many “ooh”s and “ah”s from the crowd as heads are slammed into walls and elbows collide with faces.
Gunner Cauthery as Orlando (left) and Ben Lamb as Charles the Wrestler (middle)

Not only does each actor stand out individually but the cast together has a fantastic chemistry which makes each and every portion of dialogue seamless, heartfelt and engaging. They have made all jokes and puns accessible, without any dumbing down, especially the dirty ones – showing us just how little sense of humour and appetite for the salacious has changed! 

Neither, it seems, has Shakespeare’s fascination with cross-dressing and the examination of gender roles. With all the free love, liberation and fluidity of sexuality apparent in the forest of Arden – issues and ideals still very much at the fore of contemporary discourse – it seems Shakespeare was a true avant-garde.

Everything about Dacre’s production from the first to last scene is a joy. Georgina Lamb’s choreography; composer Olly Fox’s beautiful score; designer Hannah Clark’s booth stage and stunning pastoral mural, which earned itself gasps from the crowd as it was revealed.

There are far, far too many outstanding points about this production to mention. And, anyway, it would be far, far better to experience them first hand. As You Like It will meander its way up and down the country and even hop over to the German Globe theatre near Dusseldorf, as well as making a few returns to South Bank’s Globe Theatre between now and September.

Check for a location near you: http://www.shakespearesglobe.com/theatre/on-tour/as-you-like-it

Sunday 1 May 2011

Alien Resurrection

I'm here to convert you to the art, the genius and pure astounding talent of H.R. Giger. “Artist” is a term that does not even scratch the surface of what Giger is and what he has done for many dimensions of culture and for fantasy, too. Painter, sculptor, architect, innovator, genius, fantasist, creator of dreams and nightmares would go a little deeper in describing who he is, and yet, still leaves much to be desired.


He is recognised as one of the world’s foremost artists of Fantastic Realism, and fantastic is truly what his artwork is. “Fantastic realism”: Giger brings to life fantasy and makes it so real one has trouble believing his creations have not existed, or do not exist somewhere. The slight oxymoronic nature of the phrase captures Giger himself brilliantly: his work escapes definition by having a seemingly “split” personality and this reinforces the beauty and originality of his artistic endeavours.


The Swiss artist was born to chemist parents in Chur, Switzerland in 1940 and had an educational grounding in architecture and industrial design from the School of Applied Arts, Zurich. His father, when interviewed, remarked at how a man with no knowledge of art could bring into this world an artist of such immense talent.


From science comes art, and from art comes science: many of Giger’s works are a science-fiction fanatic’s pure ecstasy. One of his most notable offerings, which transcends artistic disciplines, is his work on Ridley Scott’s Alien (1979), cinematic masterpiece. Ridley Scott was “never so sure on anything in my life” when he saw Giger’s third and most famous book Necronomicon (1977), which served as the inspirational fodder for the film in designing Alien as well as in the landscape of planet LV-426 where the crew first encounter the alien eggs. His work earned him the 1980 Oscar for Best Achievement in Visual Effects. However, it is saddening when the majority of fans of the film have not even heard of the mind and imagination behind its success. Alien fans reading this; make it your business to educate yourself on the man who is about to become your favourite artist and “dreamer of dreams”.


Unfortunately, the UK is not the best place to go in search of Giger exhibitions. Culturally abundant in most other areas of art, the country lacks access to what artist Ernst Fuchs believes is “one of the most important creators of fine art of our time”. At present Giger’s work can be viewed in Vienna, New York, Prague, Zurich (the artist’s current home) and of course in Gruyeres, Switzerland (of cheese fame) which is home to the Giger Museum. The four-level building complex in the historic, medieval walled city is the permanent home to many of the artist’s most prominent works and also home to one of the Giger Bars. The Gothic architecture of the 400 year old space is mirrored by the designs for the bar with giant skeletal arches covering the vaulted ceiling, stony furniture and a “church like” feature which contrast to the interesting looking, body jewellery adorned bar staff.


One film work that truly pays homage and does justice to Giger is David N. Jahn’s H.R. Giger Revealed which combines a documentary with a 3D animation of some of Giger’s work (paintings, drawings and sculpture). And Jahn certainly is in a position to give an insider’s view on Giger, having worked as his assistant for a number of years (a position many thousands of art students and fans alike would adore to be in).


The documentary seeks to illustrate just how magnificent Giger is as an artist instead of an insight into his history or personality. Giger’s reluctance to give interviews nowadays is due to the belief that he has said everything he has wanted to in, undoubtedly countless, previous interviews following his work on Alien, Species and album covers including Debbie Harry and ELP’s, and does not wish to repeat himself.


Certainly, Giger seems to be a somewhat shy and reclusive character if not absent minded, exuding personality nonetheless. And often with genius, come the quirks and desire to exist basking in and exploring the wonders of the depths of their imagination. What Giger possesses is the “HOW”, the technical skill in realising the plot of the stories his mind unfolds and the “WHAT”, that is the imaginative power to create such intricately detailed images.


However, the detailed surface textures of his paintings in no way detract from what it is he is presenting to us. The sheer fact that Giger can propel one into the abyss of our own imagination is something many artists lack, although in the case of Giger’s works one can be equally spell bound by abandoning that imagination and taking a free ride on what we see before us. One psychiatrist remarked that never had he seem anyone who manages to extract the experiences of the psyche and portray them so amazingly and it is hard to disagree with him.


Watching Giger’s Art in Motion, one begins a forty minute journey of awe with the 3D animation of his art married perfectly to sound effects and music. The aural dimension mirrors the obscurity of his work and enhances and heightens the experience edging the mind to go further into the realms of fantasy. Ten of Giger’s pieces are brought to life as the camera scans over them allowing the viewer to appreciate in minute detail things they might otherwise overlook when presented with it as a static image in a gallery or on paper.


It begins with Atomic Children (left), an ink drawing completed in 1967 when the threat of nuclear war inspired Giger to present his idea of what the potential horrors and mutations to human beings could be. So ground breaking and original was his drawing that it was reacted to with shock. Yogurt tubs and dog excrement were hurled at the show cases. What those objectors were overlooking was an attention to detail nothing short of genius: the stuff of dreams, nightmares and maybe even drug trips.


The real inspiration for Giger’s creations were the nightmares he had as a young boy and his penchant for day dreaming. His will to overcome his fear manifested itself as the realisation - the “making real” of - his nightmares. His art will not appeal to all, with many paintings being sexually explicit in content. Here is a man with a profound understanding and interest in the human form. The art does not come off as seedy, pornographic or distasteful and is presented in a matter of fact way. The sexual content of the art pales in significance compared to their visual impact. A personal favourite is Erotomechanics (below),


another example of where Giger’s concepts and attention to detail baffles. The beings in his art seem already conceived, as if made by a Divine Creator.


From looking at one work, Biomechanical Landscape (below), it is clear where the inspiration for many subsequent films such as The Matrix came from. He has created the notion of the Biomechanical. We live in a world of technological dependence and Giger illustrates this in his work by conjuring a world where the living have become part of the mechanical world around them. Other ‘snapshots’ from his works in the film include phallic trains in New York City, grey landscapes not dissimilar to the Mine of Moria in Tolkein’s Lord of the Rings, as well as a demonic, goat like creature surrounded by svelte, snake-skinned beauties in his work, The Spell.




One recurring paradox in so much of his work is the “masculine” versus the “feminine”. Many images in his creations have a dark, aggressive, demonic, cold and even satanic feel. His characters therein could be intimidating but Giger depicts them in a still and serene manner where they always look at peace: horror so beautifully presented; the industrial, mechanical and masculine versus the svelte, gold and goddess like beings. It truly is like magic and it is no wonder that Giger will appeal to so diverse an audience: science fiction fans, fetishists, S&M lovers, fans of heavy metal and even the girly girls who dream of fairies and nymphs.


Some may accuse Giger of Satanism given the dark nature of his work, or a being a pervert because of the naked forms and sexual connotations. Although an apparent interest in the occult, that is “the hidden”, could understandably lead people to believing so, it has been confirmed by many sources, including Jahn, that Giger is no Satanist. Or pervert for that matter.


With so much emphasis often put upon a work of art's “meaning” in a lot of moderan art, it is a joy to appreciate art for its aesthetics and for its beauty. Even if Giger does not inspire something magical in your mind from how his art looks, his pure technical skill will dazzle you.
In the words of New York artist, Pet Sylvia, “all we have to do is sit back and enjoy the work.”