Mr. Nobody

Remember that one time when you had to make a gut-wrenching decision? Sure you do. How you carefully thought of the possibilities and their countless consequences? Did you go through all the possible scenarios in your head? If so, then feel free to welcome Mr. Nobody, the brand new film by Jaco van Dormael.

If you’ve ever felt like everyone else in the world is more prolific than you, then Jaco is also there to make you feel better: after his 1991 debut film Toto le Héros, van Dormael made Le Huitième Jour in 1996 and… erm no, that’s it. Yes, van Dormael spent thirteen years coming up with a new film, giving the expression “the difficult third release” a completely new meaning. Mind you, he wasn’t slacking, he just carefully crafted all the pieces of what would ultimately become Mr. Nobody.

It almost makes you scared to ask: so, any good? Not only because of the long labour, but also because Mr. Nobody seems to profile itself as the most ambitious film ever, the movie version of Tristram Shandy. Who is Mr. Nobody, you may ask. Well, a weirdly painted Dr. Feldheim has exactly the same question. “I’m Nemo Nobody,” the protagonist replies, “I was born in 1975, I’m 34 years old.” Sounds logical, apart from the fact that Nemo looks closer to 115 years old. Confronted by a mirror, Nemo is scared of his own appearance and that’s the start of a rollercoaster ride, which takes us from 1975 all the way to 2092. To and fro. All the time. No holds barred. Mainly focusing on a couple of years (let’s roughly say: Nemo is often aged 9, 15, 34 and 117), we see Nemo leading his life… or rather: Nemo leading his lives.

You see, our lives are led by the decisions we make. Shall we do A or B? We decide, A or B, and move on. But not Nemo. Nemo’s life becomes Nemo’s lives because Nemo doesn’t choose between A or B. And because A will lead to X, Y and Z whereas B will lead to 1, 2 or 3, the moviegoer is subjected to what could be A, X, Y, A, Z, B, 1, 3, A, Z and Q. Because some things just don’t seem to make sense at all: suddenly Nemo is on a mission to Mars. But fear not, somewhere in one of his lives there is a reason which explains Nemo’s adventure in space.
And wheras this may seem outlandishly confusing if you read this review (or start watching the film), van Dormael succeeds in making this feel like the most normal thing in the world. Nemo wakes up, says the wrong name to his wife and child and suddenly he is somewhere else, not in his kitchen but at a pool, talking to another child (but one which does have the name he’d given to the other boy) and with another wife. What is going on? It seems as if the film is the rambling of an old man, the oldest (natural) man alive in 2092, who has trouble recollecting his past. But then you’re wrong. So wrong.

Essential people in Nemo’s life, apart from the doctor in 2092, are Nemo’s parents and three girls on a bench. They’ll play a big part in Nemo’s different lives, fantasies of what could’ve been, what maybe was and – why not – what may have collided. Just like some things seem be motives too: water and vases to give two examples. Of course this means that van Dormael, writer and director of Mr. Nobody, can come up with countless scenarios. Which is why this film could have been anything from 10 minutes to 10 hours. In the end, van Dormael seems to have thought 138 minutes was the ultimate cut for this film. Personally I would’ve knocked 15 to 20 minutes off, though I’m not sure why and I’m not sure which scenes would have to go. It’s not like some will make more sense than other, no scene is more than a variation or elaboration of another scene. I can only describe how I felt during the film: I sat down, let the film lead me, liked it more and more, slowly had the glowing feeling this could be the best film I’d seen in a long time, before getting some fatigue, which ultimately led to another high. As I said earlier, the film is a rollercoaster and not just in time.

The adult versions of Nemo are played by Jared Leto, who finds himself surrounded by a great cast, including Sarah Polley, Diane Kruger, Linh Dan Pham, Rhys Ifans, Natasha Little, Toby Regbo, Juno Temple, Clare Stone, Thomas Byrne, Audrey Giacomini, Laura Brumagne, Allan Corduner and Daniel Mays (don’t make me say who’s who). The final credits also mention the actors and actresses whose scenes had been cut, which give you the feeling van Dormael might have been able to stretch this film well over three hours. It’s a good thing he didn’t. But is his cut the ultimate cut? We’ll probably never know (apart from him being the director and we just the viewers). All we know is that this film fucks with your head, that it’s the ultimate ode to not wanting to choose (now this is a romantic movie) and that, while watching the film, I often had the urge to go and see it again, preferably the very next day.

If you like your films realistic and linear, stay away from this one. If not, give it a go. It’s often said about films when it’s not true, but it’s true for this one: it’s unlike any other movie. Enjoy.

8.5/10

New Alex Cox, New Repo

Repo Chick is the new film by Alex Cox, director of a.o. cult classic Repo Men. In the film, repo chick and wealthy bad-girl Pixxi, together with her entourage, get mixed up in a devious kidnapping plot that threatens to wipe out the city of Los Angeles.

Here’s the director in a making of (made by Kim Ryan) talking about the film. Embedding wasn’t possible, so here are the links:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

Millennium 2: The girl who plays with fire

Math lovers all over the world will be able to confirm that after part one often a second part will follow. But rarely does this happen with the speed of Stieg Larsson‘s trilogy Millennium. Having just waved the first part (Men who hate women) goodbye last autumn, we barely got time to overcome our New Year’s hangover: the second part, The girl who plays with fire, was released in January 2010. Try and see it in a hurry, unless you want to see the sequels back to back… yes, the third instalment of the trilogy will arrive in European theatres in March.

The director of Flickan som lekte med elden, the original Swedish title of the film, found himself in a position you won’t envy him for. Not only did Daniel Alfredson have to justice to some of the most popular books (me thinks it’ll be easier to name the countries where you won’t find a Larsson book in the Top 10), he also had to follow in the footsteps of Niels Arden Oplev, whose Men who hate women was so good it raised the bar for European thrillers. Rather him than us, don’t you agree?

Contrary to what a friend of mine assumed: Men who hate women was also made for Swedish television in a lavish three hour long two-parter. Thirty minutes of non-essential story were cut out for the film version, but originally it was also a tv movie. That The girl who plays with fire looks more like a made for tv movie only shows how good the first part really was. In fact, for a tv adaptation of a novel The girl who plays with fire isn’t all that bad, it’s just that it fails to reach the parameters its predecessor had set.

In this second instalment we meet up with investigative journalist Blomkvist again, this time on the lookout of more men who hate women: Blomkvist’s magazine, Millennium, is on the verge of publishing an issue concerning women of Eastern Europe, forced into prostitution. Lisbeth Salander is having more fun, but she returns to Sweden after finding out that Bjurman, the sadist who got a free tattoo from Lisbeth, has made an appointment to have his warning on his stomach removed (yeah, you learn a lot from hacking). Little did she know that by returning to Sweden, she allows herself to become the centre of a conspiracy. Not before long, Lisbeth Salander is wanted for murder and it’s up to Blomkvist to save her skin.

The girl who plays with fire is a clear reference to Lisbeth Salander, as anyone who’s seen the first film will know. This second instalment reveals more about Lisbeth’s murky past, but by doing so, it turns itself more into a regular thriller. If in my previous review I mentioned that noone was looking forward to the American remake of the Millennium trilogy, it now looks as if the second part already looks like a Hollywood thriller (with the exception of course that Hollywood won’t make them this gritty and bloody). The climax of the film is simply so outrageous I felt disappointed. Surely this couldn’t be how Larsson had written the finale…?

One day and one visit to the library later it turned out the film copied the book’s denouement, with the exception that Larsson – clearly he must’ve assumed he was asking a lot of our suspension of disbelief – wrote the scene with lots of care and detail. What looks quite improbable can be explained and if you’re a bit gullible, it may even make sense. Also, Larsson made sure it wasn’t mentioned how much time goes by between the build-up and the outcome. The film is blunter: in the lead-up it’s night (pitch dark), in the conclusion it’s obviously beyond dawn. Had the director been more subtle, the conclusion might have made sense, now it looks like a bloodier version of a typical Hollywood finale.

And that is the main flaw of this film: Flickan som lekte med elden lacks subtlety. It still deserves a score that’s better than average, but 2010 will be a pisspoor year if this ends up in my top 10.

6.5/10

Marina goes to Hollywood

And the plugging continues… just about a year ago we discovered “Mowgli’s Road” and were instantly blown away by Marina Diamandis (a.k.a. Marina and the Diamonds). At the time you could only buy two EPs on an American label, but those who knew her had a gut feeling greater things had to lie ahead… more demo versions were thrown on the internet, the tours took her to bigger venues (including the NME Radar Tour  – also the first time I got my ass to another country, just to see a concert) and now it’s 2010. In just over a week (a.k.a. Monday 22) Marina’s debut album The Family Jewels (an in-joke reference to the EP title The Crown Jewels) will hit the record stores, a collection of the two EPs, some songs you may have known from the internet demos (there is a fat chance “Girls” or “The Outsider” will end up high on our Best of 2010 list – mark my words). And just a few weeks ago Marina and the Diamonds played her brand new single, Hollywood, on Friday Night with Jonathan Ross. What’s next, Marina: global domination?

Here’s the video for Hollywood, the single that was released on February 1 to announce the album. I honestly have to say it took me two or three times before I opened up to this track, so feel free to repeat it a couple of times.

How all of us have become Richard Nixon

The BBC Four programme Newswipe, the satirical and cynical dissection of the news as done by Screenwipe‘s Charlie Brooker, is back for a second series. This week’s episode (debuted yesterday) includes a six and a half minute long mini-documentary by Adam Curtis, who’s become quite known ever since his documentary The Power of Nightmares. In just under 400 seconds Curtis will show us how we’ve all become Richard Nixon.

(Adam Curtis: “A Film about how all of us have become Richard Nixon” – as uploaded to YouTube by one Flo Welch)

P.S. The entire episode of Newswipe can be watched online, with thanks to xthemusic who has uploaded all of Charlie Brooker’s BBC material (with permission). Watch part one here.

It’s Only a Book by Mark Kermode

A mail alerted me that film critic Mark Kermode was on the verge of publishing a new book. Kermode is no stranger to this blog or indeed Delirium Vault: the man’s reviews have been mentioned more than once. So why shouldn’t I (in turn) alert you to the existence of Kermode’s latest book?

The name of the book is It’s only a movie and it offers a more personal view of the grand world of cinema. As the blurb would have you believe:

To avoid fainting, keep repeating

It’s only a movie
… only a movie
… only a movie
… only a movie

If you grew up believing that Planet of the Apes told you all you needed to know about politics, that Slade in Flame was a savage exposé of the pop world, and that The Exorcist revealed the meaning of life, then you probably spent far too many of your formative years at the cinema. Just as likely, you soon would have realised that there was only one career open to you – you’d have to become a film critic.

In It’s only a Movie, the incomparable Mark Kermode takes us into the weird world of a life lived in widescreen. Join him as he embarks on a gut-wrenching journey through the former Soviet Union on the trail of the low budget horror flick Dark Waters, cringe as he’s handbagged by Helen Mirren at the Bafta awards ceremony, cheer as he gets thrown out of the Cannes film festival for heckling in very bad French, and don’t forget to gasp as he’s shot at while interviewing Werner Herzog in the Hollywood hills. Written with sardonic wit and wry good humour, this compelling cinematic memoir is genuinely ‘inspired by real events’.

The book, out since yesterday (yes, we can be topical – just don’t force us), even has a website, onlyamovie.co.uk, which has a video introduction by Kermode himself, some audio clips (a.o. on Linda Blair, which may or may not mention The Exorcist – but since it’s Kermode, what do you think?) and the tour dates. Mark Kermode will spend most of February touring through the UK and promoting his book. The people from Southampton are lucky enough to be the first (Feb 6), the tour ends in Bath (March 2).

I was lucky enough to get a chance to read the prologue of It’s Only A Movie, which starts with a recollection of Kermode’s interview with Werner Herzog (who was shot during the interview). In less than two pages Kermode manages to drift from this anecdote via the thought this would definitely make it into a biopic about his life (if someone would ever make that) via possible casts to good and bad biopics. Highly associative and cleverly written, the book oozes Kermode’s love for cinema. And it oozes Kermode (for which he almost apologizes during the prologue, justifying himself that he could only write this book through his own eyes – while at the same time slagging off Tarantino, always worth bonus points here at the Avenue).

In chapter one It’s Only A Movie remembers how Kermode’s father advised Mark to learn how to talk properly and watch fewer films. It’s fair to say the advice wasn’t followed.

To Kermode, a movie isn’t just the movie. The experience also counts. He illustrates this with Silent Running, not only a sci-fi movie (and a Kermode favourite) but also a trip to the cinemas in 1972 with a school friend. In his adult memory Silent Running isn’t just the film, Kermode’s neck hairs still vividly remember the excitement of two young boys going to the film and his body painfully remembers the twisted position Kermode had to watch the film in, due to a Mungo Jerry lookalike sitting in front of him.

It’s Only A Movie is Kermode’s feature presentation, a recollection of the movie inside his own head, based on Kermode’s life interlaced with thousands of films. As he mentions on page 16: “I am to all intents and purposes the auteur of this book and the director of this ‘real life’ Movie of the Week [...] This is my movie and I get final cut – like Michael Cimino on Heaven’s Gate, only with more laughs and less roller-skating.”

It’s Only A Movie, published by Arrow Books, is 320 pages long and should cost no more than £11.99.

P.S. So which movie originally used “It’s only a movie” as its tagline? No, the answer is not The Last House on the Left, but William Castle‘s Strait-Jacket (starring Joan Crawford). Please do note the subtle difference between both taglines:

Just keep saying to yourself: “It’s only a movie… It’s only a movie… It’s only a movie… It’s only a… It’s only… It’s…” (Strait-Jacket)

To avoid fainting, keep repeating It’s only a movie… only a movie… only a movie… only a movie. (The Last House on the Left)

Turkish Rocky

Superhero Schlock (a.k.a. isn’t there any movie the Turks didn’t remake?) continues with another remake of a Stallone classic, this time it’s Rocky. Somewhere in the trailer the film is neatly summed up: “box box box”. With all the things you know from the original: boxing, more boxing, boxing training and belly dancing. Ermm… well, maybe not all things.

Orphan

Few things match like “young girls” and “horror”, just ask the Japanese. Even in the Western world, horror films starring children have been quite effective. Quien puede matar a un niño?, Children of the Corn, The Omen, The Other to name but a few. One movie that also wants to be on that list is Orphan, in which we meet Esther, a young girl who spends her life in an orphanage after her family was killed. She’s quite good at drawing and playing the piano, you know. Esther is lucky: the Colemans, a happy couple with two children, want to have a third child and have decided to introduce an adopted child into the family. Esther is lucky, the family is less so. Because Esther isn’t just a normal cute girl… Esther is [ooh ahh, spoiler alert narrowly avoided by SPAT, the Spoiler Prevention Action Team.]

Actually, it doesn’t matter whether you know the truth about Esther or not (not that I’ll spoil the movie for you). It’s quite clear she’s malicious and she doesn’t have the best intentions for most members of the family (or indeed anyone who stands in her way). If you already know why Esther is doing these things, it doesn’t spoil any of the fun… I can assure you, the movie had been spoilt for me. There are movies which are mainly based around the twist and once you know the twist, the fun ends. The Sixth Sense, a movie I’ve been trying to avoid like the plague, is allegedly such a movie. Other films may have their hidden secrets, but the outcome doesn’t spoil the rest of the film. Something Alfred Hitchcock tried to prove in a couple of his films.

Orphan has decided not to be tackled by its twists. While you already know Esther isn’t your regular sweetheart, her new parents John and Kate are still quite unaware, which helps add tension. Esther’s ‘brother’ is scared to death of  her, but doesn’t dare to reveal what he knows about Esther. Miraculously, to an extent you sympathize with Esther, mainly because a lot of classmates are a bunch of regular bastards and deserve to be confronted by an Esther-like person. Serves them right, horrible bunch of bullies!
What is definitely less great is that the director (Jaume Collet-Saura)  has tried to make his film even more scarier. In fact, he has achieved the opposite. Take the scene where Kate Coleman (Vera Farmiga) is in the bathroom, early in the film. The medicine cabinet is open, so you and Kate can’t see the mirrors on the front. Then… shock! horror! scary music!… she closes the cabinet… and nothing happens. Later in the film the exact same thing happens and… shock! horror! scary music!… her husband suddenly stands next to her. Oh my, how completely the opposite of scary that was. It’s not the only example, there are even scenes where the camera follows Cate or John (Peter Sarsgaard) and when the character turns around, there’s nothing there. It’s as if Collet-Saura was trying to make a scary movie but ends up with Scary Movie. Luckily, there’s only a handful of scenes like this and the rest is a lot better. Not in the least thanks to Isabelle Fuhrman who is perfectly cast as Esther. (Never thought we’d find a girl that could outdo Jodelle Ferland.)

Had it not been for that handful of irritating scenes, Orphan would’ve definitely ended up in my top five of 2009. Nevertheless, it’s great value, even if you already know what’s in store. Not that you know everything…

P.S. Never try to google the word ‘orphan’ when you’re reviewing this film. Unless you’ve mentally prepared yourself for dozens of pictures of starving orphans all around the world.
P.P.S. Don’t stop reading here: there was a bonus update on Saturday, concerning the best music of 2009 (well, if you’d ask me, of course…).