Am currently reviewing films for Plan B Magazine. It’s a fresh new world for me, and I rather prefer it to reviewing concerts or albums. Being of that world myself, I feel too involved to say anything unkind about a fellow musician or songwriter without it looking like professional envy. Writing about films seems easier, because it’s a world I’m detached from, at least on the levels of acting and directing.
What does tend to annoy me in a film is a poor script, because that’s the only contribution I feel a connection with, as a so-called born wordsmith. It’s pretty frustrating when I moan loudly in the cinema at a risible section of dialogue, only to see the film go on to win a Best Screenplay award. Which is what happened with that thriller about London immigrants, Dirty Pretty Things. Well, I stand by my opinion. It’s still a rotten script, even though it means well. You shouldn’t be given awards for good intentions alone. EVERYONE does everything with a good intention! Mr Bush doesn’t spring out of bed thinking “Ah, another day of being unkind to people from hot countries.”
I rather like press screenings. They’re usually in the one part of town: Soho. There’s no adverts to sit through. The sound is just about at the right volume. The screenings are at a civilised time: 12.30pm or 6.30pm. No one talks through the film or annoys you. Some screenings provide free food. Most of them offer free drink. And you can sit down, of course.
In the last week, I have seen six films. This is nothing for proper critics who have to review absolutely everything, with an average of eight new releases a week. But it’s a start.
My Plan B write-ups are anything from a 50 word preview in a column of new releases, to full reviews with interviews, as I’m doing for ‘Brothers Of The Head’, a visually unique ‘mockumentary’ about a pair of conjoined twins who become cult rock stars.
And no, I’m still not getting paid. But that’s okay, it is Plan B. So I’m also thinking of farming out reviews to magazines which do pay. This is common practice. Mark Kermode reviews the same films for about five different magazines or programmes, I notice.
Some quick thoughts on what I’ve seen so far.
DIRTY SANCHEZ – THE MOVIE
Non-fiction. Spin-off from late-night MTV series. “The Welsh Jackass” sums it up, but with more gross-outs, and more bodily fluids. “Like a paintball Saint Sebastian” says my notes at one point.
LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE
US indie flick, billed as a dark comedy. Dysfunctional family road movie with Toni Collette and Alan Arkin. Okay, but not as good as other examples of the genre, like The Daytrippers or Pieces Of April.
SNOW CAKE
A drama that looks cliched and sentimental on paper, but is actually terrific. Sigourney Weaver plays an autistic woman (Rain Woman?), Alan Rickman plays Alan Rickman, who turns up on the doorstep of her remote Canadian shack and befriends her. Both characters need to find ‘healing’ says the blurb, which rather irks. However, it’s actually genuinely moving and frequently laugh-out-loud funny, thanks to Mr Rickman and a witty script. I’d say this is Mr Rickman’s best film outing to date, in fact. It’s true he’s doing his usual sarky old Bagpuss act, but for once he gets to really explore this persona in a lead role, and it’s a treat to watch.
SCENES OF A SEXUAL NATURE
The joke is there’s no actual sex scenes, ho bloody ho. British ensemble drama filmed entirely on Hampstead Heath, effectively a compilation of short sketches about relationships. Great cast (Eileen Atkins, Ewan McGregor, Gina McKee, Catherine Tate, Adrian Lester), but the script is rather inert. Feels too much like a filmed Fringe play, and not a particularly engrossing one at that. Still, worth seeing for Catherine Tate in unusually understated mode, and Ewan McG playing gay, sunbathing by the Men’s Pond.
STARTER FOR TEN
Slight but enjoyable Brit coming-of-age comedy, with an impossibly boyish James McAvoy as a Bristol Uni student in 1985, competing for the affections of his Patsy Kensit-like teammate on University Challenge. The soundtrack is steeped in 80s pop, obviously, especially The Cure. Mark Gatiss has a hilarious cameo as Bamber Gascoigne, and Catherine Tate is droll as Mr McAvoy’s mother, clearly making her the Julie Walters of her generation.
BROTHERS OF THE HEAD
As mentioned above. The story about conjoined twins fronting a 70s British punk band is arguably upstaged by its own novelty factor, but it’s brilliantly realised, and a unique feast for the eyes. Features a terrific performance from Sean Harris (Ian Curtis in ’24 Party People’) as the band’s manager.
