One can liken our underappreciation of the silent clowns in the way that Mark Twain once did...

'Classic.' A book which people praise and don't read.

Last night, browsing through , I came across numerous reblogs of GQ's 50 Most Stylish Leading Men of the Past Half Century. The first one my eyes fell upon was Gene Kelly, which said:

Audiences will always imagine Gene Kelly with an umbrella and a smile; his role in Singin’ in the Rain is so iconic that it tends to overshadow everything else...

I soon became completely engrossed in the article, and was delighted to find both Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplin on the list. It quickly occurred to me that, although we're all familiar with their looks and - most of all - their character costumes, there is no such immediate connection to a particular dance, gag, or scene.

I know it has all been said before. Charlie Chaplin, the ultimate silent comedian. Buster Keaton and his stone-faced acrobatics. A class apart from their cheatin', sound-usin' contemporary counterparts.

Or so you hear.

Not many people I know can admit to having seen a full Chaplin feature, and you can forget about Keaton. Don't mistake this for mocking - it took me until a month ago to intentionally watch a single frame by the Marx Brothers. How does this happen? Everybody knows the silent clowns were great, but what has your average person really watched in terms of silent comedies?  There's not much one can do to remedy this through the method of blogging, but perhaps a wee taster is all you need.



Chaplin's most well-known scene is probably the table ballet. Although this is my best guess, it may only be due to Johnny Depp's re-imagining of the scene in Benny & Joon.  As much as I adored this scene when I was in my young teens, it didn't send me running towards the classic film archives.



The original:



Some more elaborate scenes in his full-length films incorporate not only gags but moments that are hilarious and glow with heartfelt sincerity. This is one of my favourite sequences from The Kid, where they go about their daily routine of neighbourhood scams in order to make a living. The way he bunts the kid out of the way as they run off toward the horizon is too adorable not to giggle.



Brilliant.



One of the most iconic images of Buster Keaton depicts him with a scarf tied around his head in that old-timey way that screams, "I have toothache!" So iconic, in fact, that I cannot seem to find such a photograph; I may well have invented that one. Nevertheless, this image introduces Keaton in the short that first enamoured me to him: The Scarecrow. The one-roomed house perfectly demonstrates Keaton's incredible talent for using mechanics to create laughs. His use of objects is as multi-faceted as his comedy. Take a look.



It's difficult to condense the genius of Keaton into one short clip, since much of his comedy involved epic chase scenes and elaborate use of space and machinery. Take, for example, this short clip from Sherlock Jr. This cilp exemplifies his uncatchable, nigh-unshakable demeanour during chase sequences.



All I can do now is hope that this has whet your appetite for silent comedy. If you're interested in silent comedians and have learned all you wish to know aboutCharlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton, check out some of their contemporaries: Max Linder, Fatty Arbuckle, Mack Sennett, and Harold Lloyd.

Who is your favourite silent clown?


[Images from Salon.com, NNDB, & Senses of Cinema.]

Watching and reviewing a film after it has received so much acclaim and a contested Oscar win (alongside a Raspberry Award for All About Steve) is a tough business.

The Blind Side has been lauded as being an American movie with all the sickly sweetness of a Hallmark card, but that analysis doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of this film. A number of delicate balances are held in place throughout this emotionally-charged and culturally complex film; a fact that doesn’t seem to have gained much attention.

Based on a true story, The Blind Side is the story of Michael, or “Big Mike” - a burly, close-mouthed African-American. The 18 year-old child of 12 has a dark past and troubled history, but no-one wants to get close enough to find out what’s going on behind his gentle-giant demeanour. Admitted into a private Christian school alongside a friend, the faculty take a chance on him but their belief in him, it seems, is limited. Enter Leeane, your atypical Southern belle with a strong disposition and a knack for getting her own way, and you have a matriarch on a mission.

Accepted into her home, and eventually her family, Michael soon becomes a successful student and sought-after American football player. Though it follows the model of a life-changing tale of overcoming adversity on the path to success, there is something of a silent voice of reason keeping its believability in check.

Bullock’s performance is rightfully awarded, playing Leeane with a nuance and precision that is rarely seen in films that feature dichotomies of race. For much of the film Michael is more interesting, but it is Leeane’s strength of will and the delicate vulnerability beneath her disposition that you walk away remembering most.

Though overlong, the film hits its points of tension with precision and grace, complementing the characters’ relationships and struggles. The film really tests your belief in Leeane, but you’re forced to stick by her whether you want to or not. Thought he film is never explicitly told through his eyes, we walk alongside Michael every step of the way.

The issues of race and religion are not contrasted beyond their natural importance, sparing us that saccharine Hallmark experience the synopsis of this film implies. These themes are comfortably present but not overt and never given undue importance within the narrative.

Although this is not a new story, the subtle grace with which it is told and the myriad of fantastic performances of all of the family members makes it a surprising and memorable film.

This week, I finally bit the bullet and went to see Avatar in 3D. Better late than never, right? My friend and I have never been fans of the booming trend of 3D filmmaking, but we were never certain why. Needless to say, we soon ascribed to the Kermode school of thought. You’ve heard the arguments, so let’s not drag this out.

Eye-strain: The 3D technology is not yet perfect, as well we know. Our eyes are all different, the glasses don’t necessarily fit well, and the images on screen can be flawed. At several points during Avatar I noticed that the 3D imaging was out of focus, see-through where it shouldn’t be, or plain unpleasant to look at. So much for that Oscar for Best Cinematography.

30% colour loss: This is Kermode’s pet argument, and let’s be honest, it’s a good one. Let’s say that Avatar and Alice in Wonderland are the two biggest 3D films so far. Yes, one is the pioneer in 3D filmmaking and the other is retrofitted, but bear with me. Avatar purports to be colourful, replete as it is with lush meadows, vibrant creatures and kaleidoscopic images. Think how colourful it could have been if we weren’t all seated in the dark wearing a pair of sunglasses. Alice in Wonderland, in contrast, is a dark film with signature Burton shadows. Perhaps I’m heading down the wrong path here - after all, fans of Burton’s Gothic auteurism might have a predilection for donning massive frames and relish doing so in the dark.

Disjointed planes of vision that force your eye onto particular parts of the screen: This is the culprit that causes eye-strain. All that has to be said is this: peering through 3D specs is a very limiting way to watch a film. Your eyes are naturally drawn to the lightest part of the screen; we view a film by scanning the images and resting our eyes where it feels most natural. This organic quality is lost in the 3D world.

The final - the behemoth - argument behind the 3D revolution is anti-piracy. So far, most (if not all) of the big 3D ventures have been screened in 2D alongside the main feature. Surely this is not anti-piracy so much as monetisation and creating hype to herd in the willing? Some cinemas still don’t have 3D technology. Others have enough auditoriums to screen both versions and conceivably still make money from those who missed out on a sold-out 3D screening. How long will it be until we’re left with 3D or nothing? Hopefully it will be a long while. Ideally, it will be never.

So. Having held out for so long, I put my preconceptions aside and watched Avatar - The Film To Change The Industry. I sincerely hope it’s the last time I will have to watch a 3D movie. Moreso, I hope it's the last time I have to sit through a 3D trailer. Yowza!

What are your thoughts on the 3D revolution? An innovation in filmmaking or a gimmick with a hype machine behind it?

[Image from UNSW website.]

Exit Through the Gift Shop is a beguiling and at times bewildering documentary on the street art scene of the early naughties. Though the literature I had read led me to believe that it was about the notorious street artist Banksy, the film instead takes you on a fantastical journey through the life and times of a Frenchman named Thierry.

Cousin of Invader - a street artist whose placement of Space Invaders creatures in public places was his calling card - Thierry is a former shop-owner and compulsive cameraman. Thierry's obsessive use of recording equipment led him into documenting the every movement of many key players in the street art scene. Invader and Obey (Shepard Fairey) eventually led Thierry to Banksy, who allowed Thierry to film his creative process, join him in setting up his projects, and inadvertently made a monster out of him.

Full of frenetic energy and narrated by the enigmatic Rhys Ifans, the film combines much of Thierry's original footage and on-camera interviews with Thierry, Banksy, key street artists, and people who became involved with Theirry's all-encompassing artistic madness.

It is quite a journey to undertake. The film is perfectly timed and measured so that we learn about Thierry, trust him as Banksy did, then recoil in horror as his manic ambition sets in and overtakes the scene. Thierry used to follow Banksy around like a young pup, wide-eyed and full of enthusiasm. Seeing the error of his ways, Banksy now regards Thierry as a once loveable pet gone errant - still obedient, but taking the game far beyond its natural limits.

Exit Through The Gift Shop opens in select UK cities on Friday, 5th March.

The film premiered at Sundance Film Festival in Park City, where 5 works attributed to Banksy appeared days before the event.

[Image from Guardian website.]

Scottish filmmaker Kevin MacDonald (Last King of Scotland, Touching the Void) visited Glasgow Film Festival this week to discuss his career in filmmaking. The talk was part of the University of Aberdeen's series of interviews entitled The Director's Cut, which was on the road this week as part of the festival. Janice Forsyth conducted the interview on behalf of BBC Radio Scotland, where the interview will be broadcast later this week.

Tracing the trajectory of MacDonald's career, Forsyth began the talk by introducing his 1999 feature-length documentary, One Day in September, which received an Academy Award for Best Documentary. His second documentary, Touching the Void, moved into fiction with the use of actors and reconstructions of true events. He described the intensity of shooting in Peru and the Alps, and the challenges they confronted. Moving on to discuss his first feature film, The Last King of Scotland, he described the process of finding actors, and his loyalty to James McAvoy paying off. Less enamoured with Forrest Whittaker, he described Whittaker's method acting which, one surmises, was on the brink of going native.

MacDonald's most recent film State of Play was released a year ago. Based on the television show of the same name, it stars Russell Crowe, Hellen Mirren, and Rachel McAdams as reporters of a sinking newspaper firm. MacDonald spoke about Brad Pitt's initial interest in the project, the process of adapting the film, and his disagreements with Brad Pitt and eventual casting of Russell Crowe and, "making it up as we went along".

His latest film was only briefly touched upon. Eagle of the Ninth, now in post-production, is the story of a Roman centurion who arrives in Scotland to solve the mystery of his father's death in Scotland. Shot in Scotland, not far from MacDonald's hometown, it stars a number of Scottish, English, and Irish actors. The Romans, in a twist of cunning filmmaking, are played by Americans (rather than the typical imperialist English, he supposes).

MacDonald also discussed the heritage of filmmaking in his family. His brother, Andrew, is a successful film producer. Their grandfather was the Hungarian-born filmmaker Emeric Pressburger, half of the legendary British filmmaking duo Powell & Pressburger, who created such post-war, British New Wave classics as The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp and A Matter of Life and Death. Although Kevin MacDonald's films appear to be more well-known than his name, he has proven himself as a remarkable Scottish filmmaker. From his feature-length documentaries to his more recent feature films, his penchant for potent situations and intense emotion makes his films utterly enthralling.

Eagle of the Ninth is set for UK release in September.

To listen to the condensed interview, tune into BBC Radio Scotland's The Movie Café this Thursday, 4th March, at 1.15pm. It will also be available to watch on BBC iPlayer.