REVIEW: Her (Short film, 2017)


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Link to ‘Her’ here:

As technology progresses, so does accessibility to it and, as far as filmmaking is concerned, one significant advantage of this is that more creators can now showcase their talents and potential with the proper equipment to so. Her is a prime result of this.

When it comes to short film, the best approach is often to tell a simple story very well, exploiting the abstract visual storytelling that can be achieved in the medium of film, whilst not letting style digress from that core narrative. In Her, unless you thought I’d just told you all that for the banter, this is definitely the approach. The director Noah Parker stuck to a story that was well-suited to a smaller-scale film, but then pushed how ambitiously it could be told; beyond what most budding filmmakers would try.

The first thought most will have is ‘it’s Whiplash with a violin’. Like Whiplash, which interestingly also started as a short film before being adapted into feature-length, Her portrays a creative mind facing the age-old battle between artistic passion and romantic passion. However, I’d argue that Her almost gives a complete counter-narrative to Whiplash. Whilst Whiplash focuses more on the music and the protagonist’s passion behind it, Her puts the majority of its attention on how love between two human beings is pressured as a consequence. The former’s about a character who’d rather succeed in his field and the poor girlfriend gets sidelined; the latter’s about a character (played with class by my pal Micah Joseph, I may add) who really feels the conflict between art and love – I mean, the title is ‘Her’ so of course the focus is going to be on his time with her. Essentially, they portray two different sides of the same coin, which makes for a really fascinating contrast.

Another defining element of the picture is a far less literal portrayal of this psychological conflict, intensifying the story in the exact way a short film should. Note – prepare to squint a bit at the ‘puppet on a string’ moments. These are the moments Parker should be relishing, as he does; using the film as a pallet of ‘look what I can do’ for those producers going out on open season at the film festivals.

Of course, I must give credit where its due to the actors in the film. Now, I know Micah’s my friend and former fellow actor, but the truth is he does do a very good job here. Whilst him, Beth Asher and Adam Parker are all very much amongst the orchestra, whilst the director conducts the story around them in this, they all served that orchestra very well and I bought into their performances.

From watching Her, I can see a lot of potential from all the efforts that contributed to it and I wish everyone involved all the best.


Wallace and Sallis – Goodbye, lad.


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Thanks to the – as of today – sadly departed Peter Sallis, what could have been portrayed as an obnoxious character – someone who gets his dog to do everything for him, before sussing that he did it all himself – was instead played with a charming and welcoming sense of naivety. Through his career-defining vocal performance, all that Wallace did never felt mean or unfriendly; just innocent and oblivious. It was the whimsical and gentle politeness of his voice that made many see the character to represent the best kind of British.

Sitcom may possibly be my favourite medium, but I’m not going to pretend I’ve ever watched Last of the Summer Wine. For me, Peter Sallis was Wallace – a character that has been part of my life since the first few years of it. I may not have watched when I was a baby, but I could hear and, by the time I was a toddler, Wallace’s voice already brought a warming sense of familiarity. Even in the pair’s feature outing – The Curse of the Were-Rabbit (2005) – performances from Ralph Fiennes and Helena Bonham-Carter were overshadowed by the then already 85-year-old Sallis.

In the early 80s, when student animator Nick Park first cast and paid Sallis £50 for A Grand Day Out (not finished until 1989), he unwittingly paired a cultural icon.

Hilarious to adults and friendly to children, I would like to thank the man whose voice brought a smile to all.

“Goodbye, Chuck.” Peter Sallis: 1921-2017.

Hypocrisy of Terrorism


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“If Anyone Kills A Person It Would Be As If He Killed All Mankind.”

When you exclaim “this is for Allah” and proceed to commit blasphemy against the very words of his supposed faith. A story can sound very different between individual storytellers, especially when said storyteller doesn’t read it very well. Last night, these ideological illiterates exposed their idiocy and took seven lives in the process.

La La Land – film for the fools who dream


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“I live by the belief that the ones who succeed are the ones stupid enough to try.”

It was inevitable that any attempt at an original contemporary musical was going to have a backlash of being called ‘pretentious’. Add a director and two lead actors who have flirted with the Oscar circle, it just worsens the stigma. Stylize it as a love-letter to ol’ studio-musical Hollywood? Oh no.

However, if you’re can put this context aside and just watch what’s in front of you, you’ll be able to judge La La Land for what is. All that considered, not everyone will enjoy this film. If you’re someone whose stomach twists at any abstract method of storytelling or occasional blunt song outbursts, then I’m very sorry. Personally, I enjoy these nuances and thought this film actually managed to tell a unique love story – and a love story relating to two different things at that.

As also apparent from his prior work on 2014’s Whiplash, director Damien Chazelle has a mastery of conveying creative passion on film. Not just his own expression through the beautiful set-pieces and cinematography, but also characters with a strong artistic flair and mind-set. Unsurprisingly, considering Chazelle’s music routes, La La Land continues Whiplash’s obsession with jazz – the genre best-suited to presenting musical expression and flair. This time, it is shown through Ryan Gosling’s Sebastian: a talented and passionate pianist who can’t get the good gigs. However, this merely co-stars with the struggle to maintain resilience in the acting industry – embodied by Emma Stone’s Mia: an aspiring actress who can’t get the gigs. Wonder why they get along?

Through these two characters, La La Land presents a battle between love of your craft and romantic love. Yet, not in the conventional way of one being an artist and the other being the nag who doesn’t understand. Both are in a similar situation and, more often than not, a lot of their romanticism sparks from their creative passions: hence why it makes for such a well-fitted musical. Through Gosling and Stone’s archetypal chemistry, it provides a new perspective and, whilst having someone to love should always take priority, it’s nice to see a creative’s dreams given a voice of significance, as opposed to being discounted.

“Here’s to the fools who dream,” Mia sings. As one of those fools myself, it meant a lot to see that attitude acknowledged on film and in such a caring and romanticised way. I live by the belief that the ones who succeed are the ones stupid enough to try – the reason why I think so many see this as a ‘nosey-up’ to the industry is that the business itself is made up of those same idiots.

La La Land nods to the creators of the world, whilst also reminding us of the importance of love and that there comes a time where we may need to make a choice between the two.

REVIEW: Westworld (2016)


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As online streaming continues to blur the line between film and television, so does the sophistication of how series are made. At the moment, HBO are the ones with the firmest grip on television’s withering flag, holding it up against Netflix’s growing empire and, here, they really demonstrate why. Perhaps watching the whole series in a single day assisted this sensation, but Westworld was a piece that really did flow like a ten-hour movie.

Usually, when attempting an entire series in a single sitting, there always comes a point when the attention seeps away and you are merely still watching for the sense of achievement, whilst gradually ruining the experience for yourself. Westworld doesn’t let you ruin it. How? Well, it does something that even some of the best television series fail to do – put something big in every episode that moves the story forward in a majorly important way. There is no filler in Westworld; it all flows together to form one giant narrative and, whilst it could be viewed as a giant movie, it does all the multiple-perspective plotline work that only television can accomplish.

Boasting a rich belt of characters, matched by the calibre of actors playing them (one of Anthony Hopkin’s finest), the series doesn’t just juggle all these threads at once, it sews them together seamlessly. Sometimes they can leave a couple of characters for an episode and, when they are eventually returned to, you immediately remember where they were left. That’s one thing that could have gone very wrong with such a complex story like this – the audience could have easily gotten lost. This is not to say you won’t ever get lost, but it’s clear that the show wants you to be lost in these instants. The big reveals do not disappoint, whilst not corrupting the earlier end of the season. In fact, they are hidden so well prior to their reveal that I’m sure they grant a rewarding second viewing.

Whilst I will need a long break before I ever attempt to return to it, I was enthralled by how well plotted, written, directed and performed Westworld was. High-concept science-fiction blending together far too well with classical Western conventions; the ideas of the original Westworld updated with the potential of modern technological developments like 3D printing; existential themes of God-complexes and  reincarnation – an awful lot is covered and it’s all phenomenally executed. I’m sure there are minor issues to be had but, after absorbing the whole thing at once, they really are just needles in a large and very satisfyingly stacked barn of hay.

As an escapist through and through, I’d definitely recommend this as an experience. The next morning, I genuinely woke up feeling as if I’d been somewhere else the previous day.



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Writing this short story went south and I’ve scrapped it for now, but I was pretty happy with this passage all the same, so here ya go…

At its most piercing, alienation spawns from attention. One force causing the complete opposite. I know that sounds rather odd, considering the whole idea is to feel isolated from everyone else. Those moments stuck beside a group in an exclusive world, whilst you’re no more than a mute moon orbiting it. They happen and they hurt. Yet, what worsens these woes is when these walled-off worlds decide to look up. And catch us floating.

REVIEW: The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975)


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Highlighting the title’s appropriacy, this is probably the closest a musical’s been to being a show put on film. This is a piece of cabaret, and a very horny piece of cabaret at that. Shameless in its omnisexuality during a time when homosexuality had narrowly been legalised and sex itself was only just being ‘casualised’, creator Richard O’Brien took his original play and made it a stab at the growing break in prior filmmaking formality. Like Monty Python and the Holy Grail of the same year, Rocky pushed the how fluidly a film could be structured: three sections of the film spend a good ten to fifteen minutes in the same room, showing that O’Brien isn’t afraid to move away from scenes if he doesn’t need to.

Of course, I’m just prevaricating from the sheer surrealism of it. Led by the beautiful Tim Curry’s career-defining performance, you’ll either quickly settle with the film’s care-free, promiscuous tone or you never will. An absurd bombastic burlesque, whilst touching on dying ideals such as monogamy – encompassed by engaged couple Brad and Janet starting the night leaving a wedding and ending up both pleasured by Frank N. Furter.

Forty-years later, Rocky remains a statement of modern times.


The Awkward Chronicles – Aldi


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I finish my shop at Aldi (don’t judge me). I go to the tills. There is a huge gap between one customer’s shopping and the other’s upon the conveyor belt, wasting a lot of space in the middle and leaving me no space for mine. I look to the man standing beside it. What is wrong with him? I wait for the shopping at the front to move so I finally have some space. I start to unload the groceries from my basket. I sense the man staring at me. I try to ignore him. I start to wonder if it’s because I unloaded my alcohol first; “typical bloody student,” he must think. No matter, I continue until all my shopping’s on the conveyor belt.

However, as the belt moves, the man doesn’t move with his shopping. Is he on drugs? I’m now going to have to brush passed him, accompanying my goods. I approach him. Then I see it. Low and behold, the man is holding a basket of shopping in the arm that was obscured by his mildly chubby body. It’s not his shopping on the conveyor belt. He was next in the queue, but was just standing awkwardly beside someone else’s shopping. I have pushed in. I have pushed in and now must pass the man who I have pushed out.

As I pass, I can hear his content but angry breaths. I don’t understand, whose shopping am I in front of? Wait, it’s the same guy whose shopping was at the front. He hogged the entire conveyor belt, the bastard! I mean, who the fuck leaves a huge gap between their shopping to spite everyone else, the self-absorbed cretinous snake! Oh wait, what’s that in his trolley that the Assistant is scanning? Oh no, it is two large bags of compost that he clearly was stopped from putting on the conveyor belt but, nonetheless, he’d prepared a gap for. The only one in the wrong now is me, and perhaps the man I accidentally pushed out for standing in such a fucking vague place, how was I supposed to know?

My turn has come. The Assistant slams me with “So is that your shopping there?” clearly aware of the bastard-act I had carried out. I simply reply “yes,” deliberately deploying a manner that makes me sound more innocent and stupid than I actually am (quite the impeccable feet, I know), hopefully she’ll think that I am a lost child of this world who is unaware of what they have done. I know what I’ve done.

No matter, I leave the shop and hope to never see any of these fucking people again.

– Horsey