I've Loved You So Long

Believe the hype. Kristin Scott Thomas will be back in the Oscar mix after what seems an interminable wait. She may even win. She certainly deserves to.

Her performance in Philippe Claudel's gripping film is one you take notice of immediately. Within 5 minutes you know you are watching something special. By the end of a film in which you've spent nearly every frame with her enigmatic, captivating character you'll be ready to hand her an Oscar.

I've Loved You So Long opens with the a lingering shot of a raw, uncomfortable Juliette (Scott Thomas). She sits alone in a waiting room clinging to a cigarette - her make-up-less face blank and emotionless. The appearance of her sister Lea (Elsa Zylberstein), whom she hasn't seen for 15 years, yields the merest hint of emotion, and you sense 99% of that hint takes the greatest of efforts. When introduced to Lea's family, Juliette cannot help but put up a defensive, withdrawn exterior. Painfully uncomfortable in just about any social setting she withdraws into herself even further. Adjusting to her new life lodging with her sister's family, it is only with Lea's mute father-in-law that she can feel totally at ease.

It is difficult to say too much more about I've Loved You So Long without giving away details about character and plot. Going in with too much knowledge would harm a screenplay that is carefully constructed to reveal information gradually and carefully, but if this makes the film sound overly self-conscious it is anything but. It is actually a rather simple, contemporary character driven piece of the kind the French do so well.

A story about one woman and her inner demons can only work if that woman is relentlessly fascinating. As each layer of her Juliette is carefully removed, we get closer and closer to the real Juliette - the one hiding behind her masked countenance. And as we understand more and more about Juliette, we understand more and more about the truth behind the last fifteen years of her life. Each minor revelation drives the story forward towards a simultaneously uplifting and heart-wrenching climax.

Scott Thomas is an exceptionally gifted actress who has flirted with awards bodies all too infrequently in her career. Too often found in small, supporting roles, she has nevertheless come to attention of this site on 3 occasions. First coming to prominence in Four Weddings and a Funeral, she was perfect as the archetypal Brit with the stiff upper lip; a woman who suffers in silence with her unrequited love for a guy whose attentions will always be elsewhere. Her second performance of note found her in the attentions of the entire film industry - in The English Patient Thomas played opposite Ralph Fiennes and they engaged in a passionate, unbridled affair. She again found favour as the refined Brit but one this time whose passion was requited, although their love affair soon plagues her with the guilt of infidelity.

Many would point to The English Patient as a career highlight but for me she delivered her finest turn in Robert Altman's exceptional Gosford Park. Once more it was a small but perfectly formed role, and once again she plays someone in the upper classes, but she imbues her performance with enough nuance to avoid typecast: desperation and despair, wit and mischief. The only negative was that she wasn't on screen for long enough.

How refreshing then to see her dominate a film's running time. I've Loved You So Long is a film that is totally transfixed by Juliette, despite her having none of the usual trappings of a lead character. Juliette is clearly both beautiful and intelligent, but conveys instead a dowdy, fragile facade. Ably supported by Elsa Zylberstein, who may also receive awards notice, Scott Thomas really has landed the role of her career.

Claudel's screenplay might accurately be described as sparse, but that may convey the wrong message for this is an extremely accomplished film - the economical writing is one of the film's strengths. All of the film's characters, especially Juliette, say so much with so little dialogue. Scenes are no longer than necessary - there is no extraneous detail. Everything is focused on character development and the unfolding of a mystery that will have you completely absorbed from start to finish.

This is quite simply the film of the year. If I see a better one before the curtain comes down on 2008 then I am in for a real treat. If this movie and its star are not smothered with awards glory when the time comes to honour the films of the past 12 months then it would be nothing less than a travesty. Go see it. Right now.

A

Legend

Not sure if it is possible to miss someone you have never met. But if it is, I miss this guy. A classy guy, an exceptional actor, a legend. The world will never be the same.

Cinematography of the Year

2000

(NB I couldn't find an appropriate picture from the winner which would do it justice, so I thought it best not to include one).

Thought I'd start a new thread with a new award - for the best cinematography of the year, starting back in the year 2000 and moving on. And what a year to start with! No easy award this.

First a word on cinemtography in general. I am of the view, and I think my colleague probably is as well, that great cinematography can really make a film. A case in point - last year's The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford. Roger Deakins' memorable photography added an extra layer of beauty and brilliance to what was already an incredibly beautiful and brilliant film and the light and backdrops reflected the film's enclosing claustrophobia and taught mood. Not that good cinematography can make a rubbish film good (last year's appauling, but somehow critically lauded, Stellet Licht (Silent Light) is an excellent case in point) but the fact that it looks great, and that the light, shadow, filtration and backdrop reflect the film's mood and tone, can tip an already very good film over into greatness. For instance, it was partly (though not totally) Deakins' brilliance that - for me - meant that Jesse James won the battle of the J's over Jindabyne and Juno. How a picture looks is arguably as vital a part of its meaning, plot, pace and drive as anything else, including the performances and direction. Controversial perhaps, but, that, for me, is just how important the look of a film can be.

The year 2000 presents a hard choice indeed. Looking over my top 5 for the year, and the other films I've seen from 2000, I struggled to separate some stunning efforts. A good year for films and certainly a good year for cinematography. So who to single out? Peter Pau's oscar-winning, sometimes mindblowing, effort in Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon? Edward Lachman for his dreamy, hazy, ethereal wonderland in the underrated Virgin Suicides? Yu Wang's clangy, industrial, mechanic backdrop to the excellent Chinese Noir, Suzhou River? Tim Orr's Americana, pastel-tinged, otherworld in David Gordon Green's beautiful indie debut, George Washington? And there are others - Cast Away looks great, my colleague would not forgive me, I think, for failing to mention Gladiator and I should also give a mention in despatches to Matthew Libatique's dark, distressed and claustrophobic world in Reqiuem for a Dream which perfectly matches the film's mood.

So, after some agonising, I have settled on Steven Soderberg who self-photographed Traffic. Traffic stands as a true testament to the 'auteur' vision (a director having total creative control over a picture) made famous and championed by the likes of Francis Ford Coppola and Terrence Malick in the 1970's. Sure, Soderberg has help - particularly from Steven Mirrione's snappy editing - but Traffic just has that majestic, everyday, look which adds a great tone and shade of reality to its epic, panoramic, scope. From the streets of LA to the Mexican deserts and streets of Tijuana, Traffic just looks great and, as I say, bridges that often impassible gap which means that the audience can sense, touch and breath the reality of the dusty streets and sun-bleached deserts. Stephen Gaghan, who wrote the screenplay, gave a similar lightness to Syriana, which will surely come into contention for similar reasons when I get to 2005. It's a real achievement to Soderberg that Traffic should be singled out in such a strong year. Kudos to him and to all those cinematographers who made 2000 such a vintage year for their incredibly difficult, but vital, artform.

The Ones That Didn't Quite Make it

#2: The Line Up (Spacey; Del Toro et al.). The Usual Suspects (1995)



Although the final scene of this film is it's most famous - and possibly rightly so - this remains my absolute favorite. Unfortunate not to make it into my top 25, this great moment manages to tread the fine line of being the plot's pivotal moment whilst also providing the film's funniest moment, which has since attained cult status. It is (a then largely unknown) Benicio Del Toro's drugged up playboy Fenster who provides the killer line - it's the "what da fuck" at the end of it that really makes it. Having, in the previous scene, delivered a strut worthy of gracing the pinnacle of any 'Greatest Walks in Cinematic History' list, the underused Fenster gives the serious, taught, noir tone of this classic thriller a lighter touch, ably supported here by a superb supprting cast. Has any short scene been as effective as this brief moment in providing that vital slight shard of insight into it's charcaters in that briefest of flashes on which all films aspiring to greatness must inevitably rely? Awesome.

Top 25 Scenes of All Time

#22: In Rustin Parr's House (Donahue; Leonard) - The Blair Witch Project (1999)

No film, I remain totally convinced, has ever suffered from being pre-hyped as 1999's The Blair Witch Project. Released to huge acclaim stateside, the pre-Uk buzz killed the film as loads of people left the cinema disappointed and underwhelmed. "It just wasn't scary" was the refrain I constantly heard coupled with "it made no sense". Since I was working in a cinema at the time, by the moment I actually got round to watching it, my expectations had totally cooled by the constant negativity of customers. Therefore, I was totally unprepared for how damn scary this was.

To be sure, the ending - the scene under consideration here - is by far the scariest part but that's hardly a criticism. Borrowing its tone (in a way) from the likes of Carrie and Halloween (a tone also borrowed by 2008's "Apluser" REC), The Blair Witch leaves you with that horrible, gut-wrenching, feeling of uncertainty about what was going on, with its incredibly eerie interplay between superstition, the supernatural and the reality of a disorienting, limby, wilderness. I still don't have an explanation for what is actually going on in this scene (which I won't explain, because it'll ruin it for anyone who hasn't seen the film), and that is just the way it should be.

Incredibly creepy and unsettling, this is truly an ending that stays with you through that long walk home through the Halloween cold and darkness, up your dark, creaking stairs, and into the refuge of your bedroom not knowing what's lurking there as your shaking fingers uneasily turn out the light. A poor night's sleep beckons...

For those who haven't seen it. Rent it now! And make sure you pay attention to ALL the characters and happenings in the film.

Pineapple Express

You wait ages for a stoner comedy then 3 come along at once. In the last 12 months the silver screen has been graced with Harold and Kumar Escape from Guantanamo Bay, The Wackness, and now the latest in the seemingly endless line of comedies from the Judd Apatow stable: Pineapple Express. Trouble is of course that no-one with any modicum of taste actually looks forward to stoner comedies. That's not to say none of them are any good. And that's not to say they're not all rubbish either. I'm just saying that if you look forward to these sort of films then you've got pretty dreadful taste in films.

Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back, Road Trip, Dude Where's My Car... need I go on? All dreadful. But something a little weird happened this summer. The Harold and Kumar sequel actually opened to reasonable reviews. The Wackness opened to even better reviews. And Pineapple Express virtually opened to critical raves, with some proclaiming it a near masterpiece. Having seen it (or to be more accurate, having suffered through the first 50 minutes before walking out) I can only wonder whether they had sampled something rather potent themselves, before viewing this thing.

Pineapple Express is a new strain of weed so amazing that even the smell has stoner Dale Denton (Seth Rogen) fall in love with it. He describes it as smelling like God's vagina, and if you think that's funny then this may well be the film for you. After purchasing some of the said weed, he heads of to serve a summons notice to a guy who just so happens to be someone very high up in the illicit Los Angeles drug trade. Whilst doing so, Dale witnesses this guy murder one of his rivals - cue panic, fleeing from the scene and a whole lot of trouble for Dale and his drug dealing friend Saul Silver (James Franco.)

After fleeing Saul's apartment our "heroes" start worrying that the drug overlord may be able to triangulate their cell phones, even if they aren't using them. Dale suggests to smash his phone on a rock. Saul thinks that he's never heard of such a great plan in all his life and does the same. However his attempt to smash his cell phone involves him throwing it quite limply at a tree in a wood some distance away. He misses. They exchange stoned out histrionics before deciding they had better go look for his phone. This is the point at which I left, happy in the knowledge that the outcome of their impending search for his phone interested me not one bit. In fact had a great big fireball engulfed Los Angeles at that moment, I would have thought it a reasonable trade off for 30 million innocents to die just so long as these two perished too.

The trouble with Pineapple Express is that it lacks characters of the charm of those in Superbad, The 40 Year Old Virgin or even Knocked Up. I know my colleague had problems with Seth in Superbad but I happened to really enjoy the character, and no-one could possibly not find Michael Cera's Evan amusing. Steve Carell and Christine Keener are always going to be eminently watchable, even if the film itself flags somewhat. And then you had Katherine Heigl breaking out from TV in Knocked Up, accompanying a much more sympathetic Seth Rogen role. Here we have two guys, probably played quite accurately, but played nevertheless with untold levels of irritation.

It's been a long time since two guys were that annoying, but granted, I've not seen Sean William Scott in anything for a while. But quite clearly I'm in a minority: 73% on rottentomatoes suggest most critics could tolerate their behaviour. Not me though. The rambling, unpolished script was penned by Rogen and his Superbad collaborator Evan Goldberg and needed someone taking a pair of scissors to it and trimming it considerably. In fact it probably needed a chainsaw taken to it. There's a lot of fat in the movie, and I'm not talking about Rogen's waistline. Quite clearly these guys are talented - Superbad is after all my number 6 film of last year - but this is nowhere near that level. The humour hear relies solely on whether you think watching two guys acting stupid because they are high is funny. I don't.

D-

Insane Friday

Five - count them, FIVE! - films released this weekend that I actually would like to see. They are...

Appaloosa - Ed Harris' western opened in the States to mixed reviews, but it has lots of positive things going for it including Ed Harris, and Viggo Mortensen (last years movieyears winner for me.)

Redbelt - a new David Mamet film starring a whole host of decent actors. Mamet's films are characterised by ensemble casts and snappy dialogue, and this looks no different. If it can match the unheralded near brilliance of something like Spartan (which no one saw but was great anyway) then it'll be well worth spending 2 hours with.

Righteous Kill - which I kinda know will be pretty rubbish but it stars Pacino and De Niro so you have to watch it anyway, not that either have done anything worth watching for years...

Taken - a child kidnapping thriller distinguished by an excellent trailer in which Liam Neeson speaks to his daughter's captors for practically the whole running time. The director's last feature (District B13) was very very good, Neeson looks on great form in the trailers and everything about this looks pretty slick. It might be just as dumb as 90% of other thrillers but something tells me this'll be highly enjoyable.

and a film that has come from off the radar to one of my most anticipated of the year...

I Loved You So Long - a French drama that has landed to rave reviews for the film itself, but particularly for star Kristin Scott Thomas who just happens to be one of the best actresses around. 3 movieyears nominations from me for Four Weddings..., The English Patient and Gosford Park - is another on the horizon? She was wonderful in a small role in last year's French smash Tell No One. I am eagerly awaiting this one.

The Proposition (2005)

I had started watching this before, recorded the end, then recorded over it. Whoops. I was totally engrossed, I remember, but had to switch off for some important reason which I can't remember. So when I saw it cheap the other day, I couldn't resist. So was my £3 investment worth it? Was the film worth the wait?

This John Hillcoat helmed film, set in late 19th century Australia, centres on the Burns brothers, Arthur (Danny Huston), Mike (Richard Wilson) and Charlie (Guy Pearce) and how their fates become tragically intertwined by the titular proposition. That proposition - made by pensive, idealistic sheriff (an excellent Ray Winstone) - offers (bloodthirsty outlaw) Charlie the opportunity to save both his and his younger, vulnerable, brother Mike's, lives by killing (even more bloodthirsty and outlawish) brother Arthur within nine days. If it sounds convoluted, it isn't. The film grips in its twists and turns in a similar, if slower and more thoughtful, way to last years No Country For Old Men. At least - just like in fact NCFOM - for its brilliant and lavish first hour, which sees human, character-driven, drama and taught plot development given equal footing by director Hillcoat.

This is becoming the era of the 'postmodern' Western. This is not straight Western fare in the traditional manner, but probably belongs in the same sought of company (owing to its treatment of the subject matter and the depth it places in both character development and issue-based metaphor as well as perspective) as No Country..., The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada (the pick of the bunch and a genuine classic) and, for some (though not necessarily me) Unforgiven (another undoubted classic) as well as a bunch of others. This adds another layer of interest because it's an Australian Western, although similar themes (racism, "civilising" the wild, lawless, frontier, violence, brutality, the disappearance of morality) are inevitably explored, and very effectively too.

The intriguing, Machiavellian, plot and story is driven along apace by excellent performances from the ensemble cast. Pearce, Huston and Wilson are brilliant as very different brothers, Winstone is superb as the harassed, thoughtful and troubled lawman and there are notable supporting performances from the rest of the cast, including a compellingly drunk John Hurt. The standout, however, is a brilliantly snivelling and pretentious turn by David Wenham as upper-class Brit Eden Fletcher, who hires Captain Stanley (Winstone) in the first place. He delivers the films best lines and adds a different layer of immorality and stupidity to the piece. Emily Watson, on the other hand, is strangely ineffective - a great shame for those who, like me, adore her.

As I say, the ending is something of a disappointment, though not totally ineffective. It is one of those where characters suddenly start behaving inexplicably contrary to the emotional and psychological universe they have inhabited for the rest of the film. That lets it down. It's still well worth watching, though the ending slides it down from what would certainly have been an A grade of some kind. A shame as there are further brilliant elements. The cinematography is stunning - all wide, sunkissed, panoramic vistas of the outback hanging and looming large over the great pantheon of deadly, taught, violence through which the characters blindly stumble. And the soundtrack adds excellent backup to the cinematography and captures the film's mood brilliantly. It's not a flawless piece, but its still full of decent performances, taught, well put together scenes and an overall feel well worthy of a recommendation. It's a pity that the ending does not live up to the gripping and relentless first two acts.

B+

Poster Etiquette

Check out the names on this rather dull poster for the upcoming De Niro, Pacino thriller Righteous Kill. You can almost imagine them squabbling over who was the most famous and should get their name first. Clearly De Niro won that battle but Pacino seems to have been placated by having his name appear 2 inches higher up! It ruins the aesthetics, although the poster's a load of crap anyway. There's at least 2 other versions of this poster both with the weird name arrangement and one version where the names are on the same plane. The only one I've seen out on the streets so to speak has Pacinio's name higher up. Not sure whether I'm looking forard to this one or not. I kind of am, but at the same time kind of know it'll be rubbish.

Tropic Thunder

Tropic Thunder is an enjoyable satire on war films, and Hollywood in general, from Ben Stiller who stars both in front of and behind the camera. Stiller shared writing duties with Justin Theroux, but took the helm in the director's chair on his own and has made the most accomplished film of his career. He also takes the lead role but it's costar Robert Downey Jr who steals every scene he's in. Stiller and Downey Jr join Jack Black as a trio of stereotypical Hollywood actors with inflated opinions of self. The three stars are cast in a Vietnam war movie, but when the director literally blows up the stars don't quite realise that the cameras are no longer running, and they attempt to complete the film anyway. A decent number of the film's laughs tend to be concentrated in the opening act, including some decent spoof trailers before the film proper. But Downey Jr. ensures even when the film loses its way ever so slightly once the stars are split up, it remains thoroughly enjoyable whenever he is on screen. He plays a 5 time Oscar winner who disappears so convincingly in his roles that for this one he has undergone skin pigmentation surgery to immerse himself in the role of an African-American hero. His sub hip-hop, jive-talking machine gun delivery is a delight and worth the price of admission alone.

Supporting turns from Matthew McConaughey and Tom Cruise bolster the star power, as if it's needed it, and Cruise especially enjoys himself playing an arrogant studio honcho. I can't quite work out what Stiller was thinking letting Cruise do a solo dance over the end credits - it' s bizarre, but reasonably amusing I suppose, although it worked much better earlier in the film when it actually felt like it fitted in to the screenplay. Minor and occasional quibbles aside, Tropic Thunder is a very good comedy that confirms Downey Jr's talent as one of the biggest around.

B+

Another way to die.

The theme tune to the upcoming Quantum of Solace.

Hear it here.

Sound a bit like they put half a dozen previous Bond songs in a blender, tipped half away then pasted togther what was left.

Sounds pretty awful at first but it grows quickly. Actually I think I quite like it!

The Ones that Didn't Quite Make it

...into my top 25 scenes of all time.

#1 Cindarella Boy (Bill Murray) Caddyshack (1980)

Thought I'd add a brief spattering of some of my other favorite scenes that didn't quite make it into my top 25 (in no particular order). Going from the sublime to the ridiculous, I thought I'd start with one which is sublime and ridiculous in equal measure, the pure genius that is Bill Murray in Caddyshack (1980). It's timely as well since today sees the beginning of golf's biannual showpiece (unless you believe Hunter Mahan) The Ryder Cup. I'd certainly have Murray's bumbling, Vietnam-vet, groundsman in the American Team. He'd add a touch of class.

Not much to say about the scene except it's hilarious and I think - quite uniquely in a way - that holds whether you've seen the film and know the character or not. So here he is, the Cindarella Boy himself...



A note on Murray's genius - this was all ad-libbed.

Catch Up With The Classics

In the Name of the Father (1993)

With the cinema still horribly lacking in films I want to pay my credit-crunch reduced money to pay, I'll have to keep going with my catch-up reviews. This one takes me back to 1993's autobiographical, multiple-Oscar-nominated, In the Name of the Father. In fact, I've even regressed to my original title for these posts after extensive market research confirmed this to be our readers' preferred title (well, our one reader said she liked it).

The film is based on Jerry Conlon's account of the aftermath of the Guildford Pub Bombing. For those - like me - who don't know the history, Conlon and 3 others were falsely accused of, and imprisoned for, carrying out the bombing and a number of their family members were imprisoned for assisting them.

The film is - as it should be - a shockingly stark slap in the face for those (me) who don't know this story and especially those (not me) who maintain a modicum of faith in the British Justice System. Any last thread of belief I had disappeared sharply and brutally with the progression of this gripping, well-judged, and superbly performed effort. The story of the Guildford 4 belongs firmly alongside other British judicial failings, such as the well known case of Satpal Ram. There are many others, but this is a review, not a political diatribe, so I'll press on.

The first thing to say about this concerns the quality of the performances. Daniel Day Lewis (rightly) and Emma Thompson (less rightly, but not enough to make me complain) were both nominated for commendable efforts. Day Lewis has, in parts, to carry the film, and its a huge historical weight to carry on his charismatic and supremely talented shoulders, but he does excellently. However, the real star of the show, from its very first scenes, is Pete Posthlethwaite. Posthlethwaite provides the film's stand out moment, very early on, as his obvious blind love for his son sees him run headlong into and through a full scale riot between British troops and IRA sympathisers with only a small white handkerchief waving amidst the teargas and gunfire for protection. It is a stunningly beautiful depiction of love and how it collapses the self and it is a motif that permeates the film as Posthlethwaite battles the injustice to which he and his son have been subjected with pure dignity and love. And it is a film with a last scene that adds a whole new layer of powerful meaning and beauty to everything that has gone before. The relationship between Gerry and his father is the film's key driving force and the essence of that is confirmed by Gerry's final words.

A word for the supporting cast too - they are excellent. The depictions of British arrogance and blind faith in whatever it is they find themselves doing by, in particular, Corin Redgrave (as chief inspector Dixon) and, very briefly (but powerfully for what he symbolises), Alan Barry as an officious Home Office archivist (and others who also play establishment figures) are highly effective and deserve mention in the same breath as Edward Fox's frightening portrayal of Dyer in Gandhi. All in all, a hugely effective ensemble performance and the cast deliver the message with great and polished effectiveness.

It's a little too long and weighty to be a film I'll return to again and again. In a way, of course, that's a very unfair comment. Schindler's List suffers in the same way. It seems unfair to judge all films on the criteria that the greatest should make you want to return to them again and again but I think that is how, ultimately, all films should be judged, weighty and timely or not. It may be best just not to make this a criticism so I won't and I'll finish by saying that I'd recommend this to anyone. Especially in these times when extensions of the terror laws, of imprisonment without charge and the suspension of Habeas Corpus, remain high on this government's agenda. Of course, what In The Name of the Father gets across is an incredibly heightened, taught and sensitive feeling of injustice that remains powerfully with you after the credits. A similar story for those detained under the provisions of the terror laws in recent years. The vast majority are released without trial. That is concerning. But their story tends to disappear into the ether of misunderstanding and misrepresentation about their religion which pervades the national press.

If this review has political overtones, then that is down to the film. It makes you think and it makes you worry in equal measure. And that, more than anything else perhaps, is to its great credit.

B+

Maguire Confirmed for Spiderman 4 and 5

Good news for some, including me, as it had been rumoured that Maguire was bailing, leaving huge webby shoes for someone to fill. Couldn't see the point of them continuing without him to be honest. I'll be looking forward to these since the three previous efforts have all earned a B+ from me, including the last one which met with mixed critical reception, to say the least. That said, I think the filmmakers will have to do something a bit different to excite me and will have to plough new ground. Otherwise, it might be a bit of a case of 'seen it all before' and they might well regret, after all, cramming so much into Spiderman 3. Still, Raimi is an intelligent filmmaker, the character is well established, there is room for development of the story arcs and room for development, so there is hope. Also, the franchise certainly hasn't shown signs of decline the way, say, the first Batman franchise did after Batman Returns, or the sharp plummet of the hopeless Matrix trilogy (and I could mention more, I'm sure). So, I'll keep my fingers crossed and look forward to the appearance of these.

I think my colleague might take more convincing....

Cormac McCarthy

American author Cormac McCarthy is the man of the moment. Tipped in some quarters to win the Nobel prize for literature, McCarthy's talent has not escaped Hollywood either. Last year saw his novel No Country For Old Men work cinematic wonders for the Coens and next year promises more from the Viggo Mortensen fronted 'The Road', McCarthy's 2006 novel about a desolate, ash-strewn, post-apocalyptic America.

I've just finished reading The Road as well as McCarthy's most celebrated novel, Blood Meridian, so thought I'd pen a quick post to this man of the moment and some of the challenges that will arise from bringing his difficult novels to the big screen.

The post was mainly inspired by this:

http://www.ropeofsilicon.com/article/cormac_mccarthys_blood_meridian_cant_possibly_become_a_movie"

It's an article, which I agree with, about the difficulties that will be involved in bringing Blood Meridian to your local Odeon. Ridley Scott was linked to the project but, equally rightly, pointed out that the trouble with making Blood Meridian into a film is that it is unbelievably violent. Having just finished it, I can testify that Scott is not lying or exaggerating. Were it to be made, it would almost certainly be the most violent film ever made, at least by any mainstream filmmaker. And yet, IMDB reports, a version of Blood Meridian is in production.

Blood Meridian is a great book, a truly great book, totally unlike anything I've ever read. Violence is endemic to it, like it was to the world it depicts. Based on real events, the novel focuses on a time, at the beginning of the 1850's, when a rebel group of American soldiers, under the command of General Glanton, himself under the sway of the unbelievably abhorrant, amoral and fascinating Judge, head out to procure for themselves as many scalps of native American Indians as they can get, as the trade in them is thriving. If that sounds violent, even that gives no true picture of what actually goes on in this book (take a look at the quotes in the article I've hyperlinked above), it is honestly hard to see this passing any censorship test without losing the tone, the drive, the message, (all of) which make the book so powerful and unforgettable. I would almost dread seeing a cinematic version of Blood Meridian and yet feel compellingly drawn to the idea that I'd like someone with uber-talent to give it a go. We'll have to wait and see. But who would have the talent - and the physical presence - to play the role of the Judge, in Hollywood today, is beyond me. One blogger suggested Vincent D'Onofrio, and he - a hugely talented and underrated actor with great physical presence and menace (just think back to how unforgettable the toilet block scene in Full Metal Jacket is) - would be a great choice and would add another layer of potential interest to the idea of Blood Meridian the film.

McCarthy's is a rare talent. His worlds are always seemingly unbearably bloody and you would be forgiven for thinking that he has a very negative view of the human condition. Until you read The Road. In a way, The Road and Blood Meridian are perfect partners, the one demonstrating the worst, the other the best, of the human condition and they strike an absolute contrast between innocence and sin. I can't wait to see The Road though I remain hugely sceptical that any director will be able to reproduce its vast emotional landscape on screen. I wait to be corrected. As I do about Blood Meridian. Like the novel, a film version would have the potential of being one of the greatest ever made, were it done properly and the added pull of rewriting the Western myth in the Hollywood mainstream is restelessly compelling. Yet I pity the directors of each. For they must not only deliver great films, but must also deliver films fully worthy of the enigmatic, relentless, rare talent of Cormac McCarthy.

Top 25 Scenes of All Time

# 23: The Swimming Pool Scene (Traffic) (2000)

A very understated scene that lives long in the memory. From its very beginning, with the superbly limned awkward faces on the American cops' faces as they stand uncomfortably in the light-blue water chosen by the magnificent Benicio Del Toro's Javier as a safe haven to chat, this scene eats the screen alive and is for me the film's pivotal moment.

I suspect many readers would find this a surprising choice, at first glance, perhaps a scene many people have not thought twice about. However, much is at stake here. Javier is putting his life at risk and, importantly, the prejudiced Americans naturally assume that this is for money or some other personal gain. The looks on their faces are classic and priceless when he starts going on about baseball.

Although I'm obviously going to say that this is Del Toro's scene as much as it is his film, the two bit-part, lesser known actors, who play the American cops, are brilliant and bring the scene to life with the looks on their faces. So much acting is credited for dialogue delivery, but this just serves to remind you (like some other forthcoming scenes in my list) that non verbal communication and expression is just as important. Kudos too, for Steven Soderbergh and his intelligent and measured direction, which is spot on and brilliantly done.

So, baseball, then. I have written previously about cinema's relationship to morality and ethical thinking and will write about this again. Traffic is, to me, one of the most important ethical and political statements to have been made by Hollywood in the past decade or so, rivalling, perhaps even surpassing, the end of The Dark Knight. Traffic reminds you of the power images and stories have in terms of delivering a moral message, surely, at least in my view, surpassing that of academic philosophers (controversial!), not least because a successful firm can only be successful if it shares the same intersubjective mental environment and therefore typically has far greater potential for speaking to (and, of course, with) the masses than academic moral philosophy. The swimming pool scene is key to this, not fully hitting home until the final scene as Javier sits, quietly and unsassumingly, in the stands, watching a baseball match he was responsible for bringing about. It's a strong point. Poverty can bring people down, even into the hard crime depicted in Traffic, especially when they don't have opportunities, even simple leisure opportunities, something different to do in the evening. Javier knows this and his sacrifice is all the more compelling in that stunningly beautiful final scene, which I've only not included in my list because I think the one I have included is the scene that really, in the final analysis, makes that one so special. Stunning, emotional and thoughtful, a scene that lives as long in the memory as the flash of a snowflake caught falling in a moonbeam formed by the first echoes of winter.

The Wackness

The Wackness is not so much a film, but more of a marijuana-induced hazy reminiscence of that perfect summer. In the Wackness it's the summer of 1994. A summer of hip hop and dope. A summer of mad 100 degree sunshine, and a fly girl.

Writer/director Jonathan Levine quite obviously grew up in the mid-nineties. This is a love letter to 1994 and to perfect summers. This is the quintessential pot movie. Indeed it may play even better if you watch it whilst stoned. Going far beyond the fact that the main character deals pot, all of the main characters smoke it frequently, and that plots and subplots of the film deal with either selling or using the stuff, everything about this film is all about pot, and I do mean everything. Long stretches are shot slightly out of focus, the cinematography is deliberately saturated at times, at others, underlit. The score, punctuated by hip hop classics of what some have described as the greatest year in hip hop history, is a sun-drenched, chill-out beat. Marijuana is so interwoven in the tapestry of this film that you would not be in the least bit surprised that the entire cast and crew were permanently high during shooting.

Everyone can remember that summer after high school when finally, after years of relentless study, you have no more exams, no more deadlines and no more lessons. Long-awaited freedom. College seems light years away. The feeling is bliss. How do you make such a momentous time in your life even more perfect? You hook up with a girl waaaaaay out of your league, who by some miracle of fate not only bothers to acknowledge your existence, but actually invites you to spend time with her. Luke Shapiro (Josh Peck) is not the biggest loser in the school, but is perhaps the biggest loser out of the cooler kids. He sells dope, which gives him a little more street-cred, but is not on the radar of the pretty girls. This is his summer though, and all that changes when he starts hanging with Stephanie (Olivia Thirlby), the step-daughter of Luke's psychologist Dr Squires (Ben Kingsley). Squires smokes more dope than anyone else in the film, and when he and Luke develop something of a friendship, Squires is quick to warn him to be careful with his step-daughter who Squires believes is "just bored."

By necessity the plot is threadbare, since this is very much an exercise in style, and a film about character. It would not be at all appropriate for a dense, complicated narrative and in fact for 45 minutes I was wondering whether there was going to be any plot at all. Thankfully the merest hint of one does shows up when Josh and Stephanie hook up. When the loser gets the girl, as seems to be obligatory in the Judd Apatow school of comedy, it usually makes you roll you eyes and sneer at the implausibility of it all. Here though it is surprisingly convincing. Peck, who had appeared in nothing of note prior to this, is genuinely accomplished in his role. Thirlby, a movieyears nominee by Matt for her turn in Juno, shines once again, but it is the chemistry between the two that is most enjoyable. Josh is lame, awkward and nervous - Stephanie, confident, sexy and cool, yet somehow, they work together, and you actually find yourself rooting for the drug dealing loser, even though you know you shouldn't, and even though you know the Squires' words of wisdom will prove prophetic in the end.

The Wackness is decidedly not for everyone. In fact unless your male and born between 1974-1979 I'm not sure there's that much to enjoy here. Despite fitting that demographic, I was very close to bailing after half an hour. None of the humour worked for me and the stylistic choices were rather grating. By the end of the 99 minute running time, I was pretty much won over however, and this was almost exclusively down to Peck and Thirlby. Ben Kinglsey gets top billing, and although he is his usual excellent self, this is a film that belongs to the two young actors, on whom the film's success or failure depends. They don't let it down.

B-

They Can't Honestly Be Surprised

The makers of Disturbia have been slapped with a lawsuit from the copyright holders of the second greatest motion picture in cinema history, aka Rear Window.

The law suit cites the fact that Disturbia is so similar in story to Rear Window and the story it is based on (which the Rear Window people also hold the copyright to) that they should have obtained rights to the story. No shit. It was a complete rip-off. Not an entirely unsuccessful one as it happens, as my review pointed out at the time. But a rip-off nonetheless.

I can smell an out of court settlement coming. I can't believe they can hope to defend this successfully.

Get Smart

This is turning into a year of walk-outs for me, with Peter Segal's remake of the successful 1960s TV series marking the 4th time I've bailed on a film before the end this year alone. The problem with Get Smart is that it just isn't funny at all. Not one bit. The script is so lacking in charm, wit or originality that you wonder how they went forward with it. Exit lines are painful, jokes are tired or cliched and, whilst some talented actors do their best with the material, there is not much they can do to salvage any shred of dignity from a screenplay so lacking in quality.

I kind of knew what to expect from the trailer, but one notable critic declared that you can "forget the trailer, because it doesn't do the film justice." Little did I know that the painfully unfunny trailer actually managed to cram in all of the film's highlights.

Steve Carell is great. He always is. I love him in The Office, even if the writers insist on making his character too broad at times. He is at his best when he's playing things more subtlely and when given that opportunity, there is no-one better on TV. His big screen career has been a little mixed however. Enjoyable turns in films like Little Miss Sunshine and The 40 Year Old Virgin, have been balanced by disastrous projects such as Evan Almighty - an ill-advised sequel to one of the worst films of 2003.

Get Smart will probably not hurt his stock too much however, it having taken over $100 million at the US box office. In fact, earning so much in such a poor film may even make his stock rise slightly, since audiences clearly like him. There's certainly not many other reasons to have turned up for this one, although seeing Anne Hathaway very capably branch out into a new genre is one of them.

Plotwise, Get Smart is a James Bond spoof - a bumbling secret agent and his significantly more savvy sidekick go undercover to thwart a crime syndicate intent on world domination. It's been done before, although never really that successfully. Johnny English and Spy Hard, both films with very engaging leads, failed miserably and of the 3 Austin Powers films, only the first one manages to elicit any chuckles. Even then, as one critic wryly observed, Mike Myers' recent stuff has been so bad you wonder whether you actually did find him funny in the first place.

So Get Smart can take its place alongside these other failures. It is surely a task not beyond the best screenwriters in the business; spoofing James Bond must be possible. Perhaps though the very fact that so many of those early Bond films were tongue in cheek makes it a difficult proposition. You're trying to outdo something that works so well as an action film, and one that has its fair share of humour anyway. And for that matter it's often funnier - compare the Austin Powers spoof name Alotta Vagina with the Goldfinger version Pussy Galore. Which is cleverer? There's no contest.

Get Smart is probably not so bad that it deserved me walking out after 50 minutes but I realised I couldn't be bothered to stick it out so I left. I've probably sat through worse if truth be told, and maybe Get Smart will successfully appeal to youngsters. However for any discerning adult, you have been warned.

D

Very quick 2008 reviews

Married Life

Well cast, well acted drama about (un)happily married life in 40s suburbia. The Ira Sachs penned adaptation of the John Bingham novel is a nicely paced, convincingly plotted yarn that allows the cast (Chris Cooper and Pierce Brosnan in particular) to shine. Lacking that special something to elevate it to greatness, this is nevertheless worth your time.

B

Journey to the Centre of the Earth (3D)

Whilst Beowulf gave us an exciting glimpse of a 3D future, 'Journey' simply shows us how irritating it can be when a director tries to hard to make the audience go "wow - it's 3D". Fraser, who's great in the right role, looks too much like a second string all-American quarterback who's been hitting the cheeseburgers, yet is still the least annoying screen presence in a bumbling triumverate who go looking for the mythical Jules Verne location. The whole thing is tedious and I bailed as soon as they hit the centre of the earth and I realised things were not going to be any more exciting there than they were on the particularly unexciting surface.

F

Death Race

Absurd, ludicrous - at times completely non-sensical - yet somehow a bit of a guilty pleasure, although not really since it is never quite good enough for that. I did like the cinematography and set design however, and Ian McShane is always good value these days. God only knows what Joan Allen saw in the script though - maybe her copy was written on 100 dollar bills? Statham is what he is and the plot has more holes in it that a hula hoop factory, but it actually speeds by at a fairly decent pace and is always reasonably watchable. It is directed by Paul Anderson - no not the good one - the other one. The good one is Paul Thomas Anderson. This one is Paul WS Anderson. The helpful middle name/initials is how you tell which one directed which film. That and the fact that one directs stuff like Magnolia and There Will Be Blood, and the other does stuff like Mortal Kombat and Resident Evil. Would be a bit surprising if WS's resume read Mortal Kombat 2, Soldier, Alien vs Predator, Punch Drunk Love. Maybe the WS stands for What a load of Shit? Bit unfair really though cause I *almost* enjoyed this.

D+

Adam's Top Female Performances

Of all time no less.

Here.