Sunday 27 December 2015

Rush (2013 movie) - more thoughts

When it was first released on DVD, I composed a blog post reviewing the 2013 movie "Rush".  This is the Ron Howard film which tells the story of the Seventies Formula 1 drivers Niki Lauda and James Hunt.  I recently watched the movie again, and wondered whether my views and impressions might have shifted in the intervening period. I propose to leave aside for the most part any historical inaccuracies which I noticed.



From my late 2015 standpoint, I might describe the feel of "Rush" as being slightly "forced", a little airless and compressed. It is visually impressive, but lacking a touch of elegance, guile and finesse, notwithstanding the inclusion of a few powerful and insightful scenes.

It has been suggested that the movie's comparatively modest budget, and associated time constraints, might have contributed to its flavour and to some of its flaws. My thoughts on this are ambivalent - in places the film has a very "professional" look, but elsewhere one can see where corners might have been cut. For my own tastes "Rush" is a touch too "digital" and post-modern, lacking the charm and fluency of some earlier racing films.

Part of my assertion that the film is "forced" is based on something which I observed when I first saw it almost two years ago. The makers appear to have had a "checklist" of anecdotes and stories (some apocryphal) which they felt they had to pack in during the early portions of the picture. My sensitivity to this phenomenon may be traceable to my status as a 70s-F1-anorak. I appreciate that this would not occur as much to more casusl viewers.

The performances of the main actors attracted much comment. Daniel Bruhl rightly received much praise for his portrayal of Niki Lauda. Quite apart from the physical resemblance, he also managed to capture many of the Austrian driver's traits and mannerisms.

Chris Hemsworth as James Hunt was less universally acclaimed, and it is true that he does not quite evoke the nuances of James' inimitable persona, or the voice. The comparison between the two actors is invidious, though. It may well be more difficult to convincingly play Hunt than it is with Lauda.

I think that "Rush" really gets on track during the scenes relating to the close season of 1975/76, when we are shown Hunt's struggles to get a drive for the forthcoming season, as well as his personal problems. Cliches aplenty, of course, but some very fine moments too. In these sequences Hemsworth is very good.  The movie improves at this point because it becomes less about "back-story", composites of events and time-compression and more about a straight account. The dramatic raw-material is also better....

The Nurburgring sequences I think were well produced, without being excessively long or sensationalist, and the hospital scenes were handled more delicately than one has come to expect in films of this sub-genre or in "biopics".

The dialogue between Niki and James at Monza is convincing and credible, and the press conference where Lauda speaks is actually better than similar scenes in most movies. However, the bit where the journalist is beaten up has rightly been deplored as over-the-top and misrepresentative. A real fly in the ointment, that one. On the plus side, the imagery used at the start of the Monza race is highly effective in conveying the tension and the apprehension.

As for the racing action scenes in "Rush", well on reflection they are a mixed bag. Some are good, and CGI is used to fine effect, but others are less dazzling. One wonders why this was.  The "arty" close ups of crash helmets, suspension parts and so forth are entertaining, and a feast for the senses, but hardly original.

The build-up to the final 1976 race at Fuji is also well done, with a "less is more" ethos concerning dialogue. Visuals, sound and music all help to create the mood and the tension before and during the event.

The final scene at the airport is noteworthy both for its quality and its plausibility. It also comes as quite a surprise to have something this reflective and pensive after what had preceded it. Philosophizing, yes, but in a believable and poignant vein.

Looking at it honestly, "Rush" is a good and entertaining, if unexceptional, piece of cinema, its main strengths being Bruhl's performance, the inherent attractiveness of the subject matter and the occasional amusing or poignant scene.






Monday 21 December 2015

Formula 1 on Channel 4

Earlier today it was announced that UK terrestrial television coverage of Formula 1 racing will be taken over by Channel 4 in 2016, as they assume the role previously performed by the BBC. Under the three-year deal, 10 races per season will be broadcast live.

The reaction to this news among British F1 followers appears to have been mixed, but I am more sanguine than most about the announcement. It has been confirmed that under the new agreement there will be no advertisement breaks during the actual races to be shown live on Channel 4.  The ad breaks were a bugbear of some fans when the sport was previously shown on commercial terrestrial TV (ITV) in the UK.

I have generally quite enjoyed Channel 4's coverage of sports, a good example being their presentation of Test Match cricket a few years back. They have a reputation for doing things slightly differently in comparison to other British broadcasters, so with luck this ethos will help to ensure that their Formula 1 coverage introduces some innovations and a fresh approach.

Much will depend on the personnel recruited to act as presenters, commentators and pundits on Channel 4's show. My ideal scenario would be for some of those on the previous BBC team to be involved, with a few fresh faces to spice things up.

It is good that F1 will remain on terrestrial TV in Britain. Interesting times ahead....

Friday 18 December 2015

Beatles Thoughts

A couple of days ago I spent an invigorating couple of hours listening to the music of The Beatles, shuffling from album to album. Immersing myself in this music is always a life-affirming and uplifting experience, but a few things occurred to me, mostly concerning the nature of the songs written by Paul McCartney and John Lennon.

The songs were credited to "Lennon-McCartney", but many of them were primarily individual efforts, written in full by one songwriter or the other. Some opinion-formers have tended to pigeon-hole the two men, asserting that John Lennon wrote the edgy and perceptive stuff while categorizing McCartney's songs as more shallow and superficial. I never subscribed to this assessment, and closer inspection of the Beatles canon supports my view.

It was around 1964 that the songs started to become more "mature" and profound, but it was not always the frequently cited "contemporary" influences which had a direct affect on the subject matter in the songs. One interesting thread is what I call Paul McCartney's "kitchen sink" songs, such as "Eleanor Rigby", "She's Leaving Home" and "Lady Madonna". In those tracks everyday concerns are explored, but these are ones which the English in particular find awkward to discuss openly. Middle-aged loneliness, rather than youthful heartache. The generation gap between parents and offspring. The struggles of single mothers.

McCartney was often accused of being excessively sentimental in his post-Beatles career.  In the Fab Four, however, balancing factors were at work, and they helped imbue some of his songs with real authenticity, realism and focus. Of course, these balancing factors worked both ways, and this mechanism and its consequences were part of the magic of the group. One musician's presence or influence placed a check on the perceived "excesses" or flights of fancy of the other. And of course when there was genuine collaboration, the results were often spectacular, as witnessed on "We Can Work It Out" and "A Day In The Life", for instance.

The personal and creative dynamics operating within the Beatles contributed significantly to a highly developed and acute feel for quality control, as if they possessed some kind of sixth sense which helped them to determine what worked, and what didn't work. Considering the volume of material which they released in a relatively short period of time, and how experimental and innovative they were, there were very few lapses in taste. People have offered quasi-mystical explanations for this sensitivity and chemistry, but I prefer to believe that it was just a happy combination of circumstances, personnel and psychology.  These elements help to explain why The Beatles always appeared "relevant", seeming to be in tune with their audience, and with the times, without having to try too hard.

Incidences of this "sixth sense" can be found in the sentiments expressed by McCartney in songs such as "Yesterday", which is more often acclaimed purely for its melodic and musical strengths. "For No One", from Revolver,  is in the same vein. And of course "Hey Jude" exhibited that habit of harnessing and articulating universal feelings practically, simply and memorably without appearing mawkish.

Was John Lennon's approach more intuitive, instinctive and mercurial? A lot, but not all, of his stuff was introspective, existential or abstract, perhaps reflecting his innate personality and his background or upbringing, just as McCartney's temperament may go some way to explaining the character and backdrop of his own songs.

I find myself having these reflective moments whenever I go back to listening to Beatles records intensively. This is another thing which makes them so special and unique, setting them apart from those bands which, while possessing abundant technical and virtuoso proficiency, could never match The Beatles for humanistic depth and that ability to touch the soul.



Tuesday 15 December 2015

Bodyline Autopsy - David Frith - book review

If I had to make a shortlist of my favourite sports-related books, then pretty near to the top would be Bodyline Autopsy by David Frith, a beautifully written and carefully researched account of England's acrimonious 1932-33 cricket tour to Australia.



The book was originally published in 2002, and the game of cricket has changed a bit since then, but the erudition and sweep of this work are timeless. The author's love for the game and its history leaps from every page, as does an appreciation of the world beyond cricket.

Thankfully, this book does not overplay the political and social importance of the Bodyline series, but at the same time it stresses the context in which the controversy unfolded. The world was a different place in 1932, and the relationship between England and Australia was different to what it is in the 21st century.

Much of the early going is taken up with an exploration of the similar controversies and debates which preceded the infamous tour, and how the tactics of Douglas Jardine and his bowlers might have evolved. This all helps to place what happened in some kind of perspective.

Quite apart from examining the Bodyline phenomenon, this book gives us a lovely window on the world, and cricket, as they were back then. The haphazard and piecemeal nature of England's selection process for the tour, and the informal and leisurely nature of the tour schedule and the social scene, evoke great nostalgia. There are also some charming anecdotes from England's ship journey Down Under.

This was also a world which was only just beginning to grapple with the notion of mass communication, and it was also a time before attention spans began to ebb away and finesse in all things was gradually dispensed with.

Frith sets out to analyze the drama from all angles, dispelling some myths and misconceptions along the way, drawing attention to anomalies and contradictions in the cliched popular version. The level of thoroughness is admirable. A wide range of sources and evidence are drawn upon to paint a vivid and balanced picture. The use of photographs is very tasteful. They are integrated nicely into the text, and their character augments the scholarly texture.

The accounts of the Test matches are absorbing and well-paced, making the reader feel that he or she was really "there". Naturally, the pivotal Adelaide match is accorded special attention, and there is an exhaustive "forensic" examination of the leak of details of the dressing room exchange between the Australian captain and the England management. The fact that a "leak" such as that was so emotive in the Thirties again illustrates just how much times have changed.

Reading this book again, the thought "what was the big deal" springs to mind, but we have to place these events in the context of those times. Bodyline stood out because it was seen to breach unwritten rules. At the same time, it was not really a historical watershed either; it didn't signify the imminent breakdown of civilization, and normal service was resumed, for a while anyway.

One of the book's strong points is the depth of its analysis of the aftermath of Adelaide, the sentiment harboured in both countries, and the attitudes in the corridors of power. The relating of the diplomatic toing-and froing is rounded and realistic, not exaggerating the gravity of the episode, but emphasizing the role of statesmen and civil servants. The priority of the politicians appears to have been to limit the damage beyond the portals of cricket.  The precariousness of the economic and trade situation is also highlighted (these were Depression years, of course). In retrospect, one wonders what might have happened had fences not been mended successfully, given what was to transpire globally in the late 1930s.

A sizeable proportion of Bodyline Autopsy addresses the fall-out from the tour, including the efforts to conciliate the two cricketing cultures, and the machinations which affected Harold Larwood and Douglas Jardine in particular. Interestingly, there is also some effort to look at how perspectives changed in some minds over time. There is a look at the later lives of many of the key participants, as well as how Bodyline was perceived in later decades.

This is a beautifully written work, endlessly stimulating, meticulously researched and also thought-provoking. A perceptive and authoritative look at a seismic sporting controversy, as well as a revealing glimpse at how things were back then.




Saturday 12 December 2015

The Likely Lads (1976) - movie review

In the 1970s and early 1980s there were lots of cinematic spin-offs from British television sitcoms, and the artistic quality of these projects was variable to say the least. One of the better of these spin-offs was "The Likely Lads" from 1976, starring Rodney Bewes as Bob Ferris and James Bolam as Terry Collier.

The original "Likely Lads" TV series from the 1960s followed the fortunes of Bob and Terry as young men, and the follow-up "Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads" picked up the story when they had reached the brink of their thirties, at the time of Terry's return from a stint in the Army.

This film appears to be set a couple of years after the end of the timescale of "Whatever Happened To The Likely Lads", with Bob going through some kind of emotional, existential crisis. Indeed, the central themes of the movie are "there must be more to life than this" and "where has the past gone?", universally understood sentiments which engage the viewer. Times change, but our own routine becomes and remains tedious, and we ask whether the grass is greener elsewhere.

Even more so than the second television series, this film screams "Seventies!", from the fashions, to the backdrops, to the cultural references and the social mores. Added to this are Bob's Vauxhall Chevette, the boutique and the predilection for caravanning!

As ever, the writing of Dick Clement and Ian La Frenais drives proceedings charmingly. The storyline is a good, solid one, with a nicely conceived ending which inverts the conclusion of the original 60s series. The writers specialized in extracting great comedy from mundane, everyday things, and the eccentricities of the tenets of English life. The script of this film, to me, celebrates nostalgia whilst at the same time hinting that there is no easy escape from the pressures of the present. The grass is not necessarily greener, and we sometimes envy the lifestyles of our peers whilst overlooking the pitfalls of those lifestyles and the virtues of our own hard-won stability and security...

One thing which does not feature that prominently in this movie is the tension between Bob and Terry's relative social aspirations, an angle which dominated parts of the 1970s TV series. The emphasis here is on more elusive emotional and spiritual concerns. That said, the characterizations are still endearing and natural.

Rodney Bewes does a fine job in this film of portraying the angst-ridden and preoccupied Bob. The character has moved on from the "upwardly mobile" persona which he exuded during the second TV show. His life has reached a disconcerting and bewildering plateau.

The settings are different from "Whatever Happened To...", but I see this as a strength, as it helps to endow the movie with an identity of its own. The pleasant location shots of the North East England countryside and coastline also contribute to an overall visual appeal, and the "Whitley Bay" sequences are truly evocative!

There are some fine individual scenes, most notably the first one in the boutique, which kick-starts the central portion of the movie. As ever, the most effective comedic exchanges between Bob and Terry are tinged with poignancy and sadness, such as the conversation on the ship near the end.

To my present-day self, the overall effect of this picture is to induce sorrow and regret at a period gone forever, when life was simpler, or so we like to believe. It was released during my childhood, and the imagery brings back fond memories. This kind of nostalgia leavens the sterility and uncertainty of the present.

Opinion of this film among critics has been mixed, but I really like it. It has charm as a period piece, quite apart from the richness of the writing, the humour and the acting. Fine entertainment, and rather heart-warming...




Wednesday 2 December 2015

Houses Of The Holy - Led Zeppelin - album review

Of the records released by Led Zeppelin, perhaps none is more enigmatic than Houses Of The Holy, released in 1973.

The reasons for this status are varied.  This album is sandwiched between the first four, issued in quick succession, and Physical Graffiti, seen by many as their magnum opus. In addition, Houses Of The Holy has a curious flavour to it, containing more "progressive rock" than other Zeppelin efforts, and also a couple of "pastiches" which did not find universal approval. However, closer scrutiny reveals a fine record.



By 1972/73, the "wow" factor induced by the band's early efforts had begun to wear off, and many will see this album as lacking in the raw energy and power of the previous ones. For the reasons touched on above, it is often perceived I think as something of a stop-gap work, but that assessment does not do justice to some of the music within. Included are a few songs which have endured for longer than more "famous" Zeppelin counterparts...

This record has been seen as a departure of sorts for the group, in that it is more layered and less spontaneous than their earlier work, but hints of the direction in which things were moving can perhaps be discerned on the fourth album. Some might opine that they went too far on this one, and that some kind of happy medium or equilibrium, between "classic" bluesy, rootsy Zeppelin and more experimental impulses was only established on Physical Graffiti, with the space permitted by its four sides. That again pleads the case for "Graffiti" being the definitive Led Zep work, as it encompassed all facets of their output.

The new complexity is showcased on the opening number, "The Song Remains The Same", from which the title of the band's later concert movie was derived. Some pleasing tempo shifts hold the interest, and parts of the track have that distinctively hypnotic flavour which characterizes many Zeppelin songs.

"The Rain Song" is one of the group's most atmospheric and affecting tracks, with its elaborate, intertwining guitars, and an understated but expressive vocal by Robert Plant. The production's separation allows the various melodic nuances to be appreciated, and of course John Paul Jones's keyboards are an integral part of the picture.

For reasons which I find difficult to fully elucidate, "Over The Hills And Far Away" has never quite grabbed me or captured my imagination in the way which it has evidently done for countless other people. The folky, acoustic feel is endearing, but somehow it does not fully realize that early potential. As a basic, uncomplicated rocker, "Dancing Days" serves its purpose, with the augmentation of the guitar textures, and a meaty rhythm section constitutes a solid base.

"No Quarter" is another tour-de-force by John Paul Jones. The electric piano (?) sound is quirky but intoxicating, and the Jimmy Page guitar riff instills some real steel. This is the kind of track which demands an attentive listen, as it can easily wash over you. The "treated", eerie vocal from Plant completes the imagery, and is another case of the band's experimental zeal.

As the closing track, the simplicity and basic riffery of "The Ocean" serves partially as light relief, and the thundering clarity of John Bonham's drumming is a joy after the outlandish fare which preceded it. It was almost as if, by signing off with this song, Zeppelin were reminding everybody that they could still rock with the best of them, and the "nostalgic" feel of the coda was also in keeping with these sentiments.

Which leaves the two "genre exercises", which in large part cause the slightly ambivalent attitude which this album has inspired. "The Crunge" sounds OK, the drums, bass and scratchy guitar evoking a "funk" sensation, and it is not quite the "fly in the ointment" which I remembered from my earlier exposure to it. In fact, it is arguably superior to similar excursions by certain other rock bands.

I am less sure about "D'yer Mak'er".  The drums are obtrusive and heavy-handed, and the whole thing kind meanders to no great effect.  Again, my present-day mellower and more tolerant self is more willing to forgive than my more pedantic persona of twenty years ago. These two songs are on reflection not real pastiches, but they are more classifiable as "tributes", although this also leaves them sounding somewhat bland and indeterminate.  They are among the weakest items in the Led Zeppelin canon.

It is not fully accurate to assert that this was the transitional stage in Led Zeppelin's career, as "III" and "IV" exhibited the guys spreading their wings and going off on various tangents. It was just another part of their journey and evolution. It was not as visceral as the first two records, a "thinking man's" Zeppelin in many respects, and well worth a listen.










Sunday 29 November 2015

Rocky (1976)

Having recently watched Raging Bull, I moved on to another famous boxing-themed movie of that time, Rocky, released in 1976 and starring Sylvester Stallone. It may not be considered as "cerebral" as Martin Scorsese's 1980 epic, but it is still an uplifting and highly entertaining film.

The scenes which accompany the opening titles, and those which follow, introduce us to Rocky Balboa's environs and surroundings, and indeed the gritty Philadelphia settings are central to the film's appeal. Early on, we are also given a sound grasp of Rocky's essential goodness and humanity, which does not always sit well with those with whom he comes into contact.

The one sentiment which strikes me whilst watching this picture is that it is not long enough, as there is insufficient time to fully explore both Rocky's burgeoning relationship with Adrian (Talia Shire) and his preparations for the fight with Apollo Creed. Both of these elements of the story feel ever so slightly rushed and compressed.

Of course, the character of Mickey, so wonderfully played by Burgess Meredith, adds the necessary tension and dynamism to the movie, by way of his irascible nature and his sometimes fractious relationship with Rocky. Burt Young as Paulie is another important building-block which elevates Rocky above the ordinary.

It is impossible to dislike the Rocky character, as he is so honest, uncomplicated and endearing. The scenes with Adrian are quite sweet, if initially awkward, and the "romantic" angle is a clever plot device, helping to further illustrate the human and compassionate side of this tough and rugged guy. There are nuances and eccentricities to Rocky which make him quite intriguing, such as the keeping of pet turtles.

Of course, one of the most talked-about scenes in this movie is the one where Rocky runs up the steps in the centre of town and raises his arms in triumph.  It does indeed stir the blood. However, the earlier scene focusing on an early morning training run is equally evocative for me.

The cynics will say that much of this picture is corny and that the plot is far-fetched, especially the notion of an obscure fighter suddenly being granted a world title opportunity, but I think that this film touched people because it went against the grain of much of Seventies cinema in its heart-warming and optimistic tone and outlook.

I had forgotten that Joe Frazier makes a cameo appearance, resplendent in a wonderful turquoise suit! The Balboa-Creed fight scenes start a little shakily, but then improve markedly.  I suppose that the moral of the outcome is that it didn't matter too much who won the bout, but attaining one's personal goals is more important, in this instance "going the distance"...

I wouldn't describe Rocky as a masterpiece, but those who watch it will likely feel better about themselves and their lives.










Thursday 26 November 2015

Raging Bull (1980)

I recently watched Raging Bull, Martin Scorsese's 1980 biopic of the boxer Jake LaMotta, starring Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci and Cathy Moriarty. Here are a few of my thoughts on the movie....

The film has a distinctive and strong visual appeal, partially based on it being in black and white. Somehow the grittiness, and occasional brutality, of the tale is conveyed much more strongly that way. The film has a great period feel, and not just traceable to the monochrome being chosen. The "retro" settings are beautifully realized and convincing, unlike many movies of this type.

Raging Bull's fight sequences are very famous, and justifiably so, but they take up less of the picture's running time than some people might imagine. Much more of the film is taken up with a compelling, and sometimes unsettling, examination of LaMotta's insecurities and demons.

Of the boxing scenes, some are quite graphic, the final encounter with Sugar Ray Robinson standing out in this respect. These parts of the film, including the crowd scenes, are also well produced, succeeding where so many other sports-orientated pictures fall down. The scenes in the ring are short and snappy, and not quite as "arty" and surreal as is often thought.

In some ways, I think that Raging Bull is a slow burner, and its early stages could strike some observers as slow and pedestrian.  However, its greatness gradually emerges as it goes along, and the stellar performance of Robert De Niro has a strong bearing on this. Strangely enough, he is so consummate, natural and plausible in the role that the brilliance of his portrayal of the boxer can almost pass unnoticed. Of course, Joe Pesci shines in the part of LaMotta's brother Joey, as does Cathy Moriarty as Jake's wife. Whatever happened to Cathy Moriarty, by the way?

This may be a film whose true impact can only be fully absorbed following a few repeated viewings. The "human interest" angles mean that one does not need to be a boxing aficionado to enjoy and embrace it. It can also be argued that it is one of the last examples of a golden age of American cinema which began in the late Sixties.

All in all, a gripping and powerful work.


Wednesday 18 November 2015

The original Star Wars trilogy (Episodes 4,5 and 6)

Just recently I watched the first three Star Wars movies on DVD (that is, those originally released in the period 1977-1983), and it was fascinating to see what new perspectives and observations I developed, having not watched them for some little while.



I did not see the first film at the time when it was first released in 1977.  Instead, I saw it a couple of years later.  It was during the school holidays, and myself and my brother were showing signs of extreme boredom, when we discovered that it was showing locally. This delay in experiencing "Star Wars" may even have increased the effect it had on me.

The opening "scrolling screen" sequence, and the accompanying music, still sends shivers down my spine, I am happy to report. This time I was able to appreciate nuances of the plot and the characterizations, rather than simply being awed by the special effects. I had forgotten, for example, how much of the early going in "A New Hope" is taken up with the adventures of C3PO and R2D2. The versions which I watched recently were the Special Editions, but I did not feel that the changes made detracted that much from the original effect. The mystique was not tarnished.

Another thing which surprised me was just how much screen time Peter Cushing has in the first film. He, along with Alec Guinness, adds much gravitas to proceedings. It is also amazing how many well-known British actors pop up in all sorts of roles right across the trilogy.

Lots of parts of the first film are memorable or engrossing. The bizarre chess set on the Millennium Falcon, the scene in the garbage dump on the Death Star, and Luke's close encounter with the "Nessie"-like monster.

I kind of like "The Empire Strikes Back" more than the other two films. It has the benefit of having the "backstory" from the first movie to enrich it, and the major characters have become more established and familiar. Also, some "secondary" figures feature prominently, such as Yoda, Lando and Boba Fett. The ambiguities and quirks in the wider Star Wars firmament are brought out more, and this contributes to a darker tone.

The contrast and richness in the settings also makes "The Empire Strikes Back" formidable, from the early stages in the snow and ice of Hoth to the swampland where Luke finds Yoda. The parallel stories, of Luke and the rest, is another strong point. And of course the conclusion of the movie is riveting. This one feels like an episode in a TV sci-fi series.

Watching "Return of the Jedi" again, there was less that stood out for me, and I will confess that I have mixed feelings concerning this one. The extended presence of Jabba the Hutt and the Ewoks makes it tough to take it entirely seriously, although in fairness this means that it is different and distinct from its predecessors. The silliness is mixed with some fine action sequences, such as the speeder bikes and Lando's exploits with the Millennium Falcon. The inter-cutting between the locations is well done, and once again the climax is awesome. To my shame, I had utterly forgotten that Luke and Leia were revealed to be siblings!.

An aspect of the trilogy that I am reminded of is how some technology is portrayed as being benevolent in nature, mainly through the "human" characteristics of the droids C3PO and R2D2. Another interesting and attractive dimension is the heterogeneous character of the rebels, their informality and optimism contrasting with the regimentation and rigid conformity of the imperial people.

It has been pointed out that despite being space movies, these stories drew heavily on scenarios from other films and literature. The scenes on Hoth contained elements familiar from tales of polar exploration and derring-do, and of course Cantina is straight out of a classic Western.

I am glad that I watched these films again. They are always invigorating, and remind us of a time when mainstream cinema was allowed to be fun and escapist again. My recent experience may even persuade me to explore the three "prequels"....


Thursday 5 November 2015

French Connection II

A little while ago, I wrote a review here of the classic 1971 movie The French Connection. The sequel, French Connection II, released in 1975, is a creditable effort, if lacking some of the magic of its predecessor. Of course, direct comparisons have to be qualified, as the second picture was entirely fictional, and had different writers and a different director (John Frankenheimer).



The story carries on from where The French Connection left off, Popeye Doyle travelling to France on the trail of the Charnier character, who it transpires had eluded capture. Naturally, there is more of a French or European flavour to this one, and I like the fact that bits of the dialogue are in the local lingo, adding a touch of authenticity. Much of the early part of the film deals with Doyle's difficulties in coming to terms with the French culture and addressing the language barrier.

As a matter of fact, Doyle's struggles in dealing with the French police, and in particular Barthelemy (Bernard Fresson), form a sizeable portion of the narrative. An uneasy relationship prevails, with Doyle's abrasive personality and pugnacious approach clashing with French methods. The more seedy parts of Marseille, and also the waterfront area, make for good settings. The chase scenes (on foot) are also impressive.

For me the heart of the film is Doyle's capture by the villains, and his subsequent agonies as he experiences drug withdrawal under the supervision of Barthelemy. Some of the scenes are quite harrowing and disturbing,  Doyle's ordeal being inter-cut with the frantic efforts of the French police to find him. Even more than the first film this one starkly illustrates the pitiless nature of the drug trade, and the extreme measures to which all parties are prepared to resort.

It seems to me that the nature of the storyline in this picture permits greater scope for Gene Hackman to display his acting range, especially the "cold turkey" sequences. There may be less grit and suspense here than in the original movie, but the "human" aspects largely make up for this, particularly the often bizarre and acrimonious exchanges between Doyle and Barthelemy.

The scenes which happen towards the close of the movie are spectacular, exciting and action-packed.I really enjoy this movie. All things considered, a worthy sequel.



Tuesday 3 November 2015

Vertigo (1958 film)

I never really got into Alfred Hitchcock's movies, much to my regret. In my younger days, Hitchcock films would regularly be shown on television, but I would scarcely notice, let alone take in their merits or artistic significance. One picture which belatedly made an impression on me was Vertigo, Hitchcock's 1958 thriller, starring James Stewart and Kim Novak.

Without giving too much away, Scottie (Stewart) is a policeman who is forced to retire because of his acrophobia and vertigo. At the request of an old friend, Scottie follows the man's "wife", who has been behaving strangely. The plot which unfolds is complex and ingenious, but not really bewildering. It involves murder plots, faked suicide and much more.

The title Vertigo is very appropriate, as not only does the condition play a pivotal role at several crucial points in the film, but it is also an unsettling and disorientating work. That said, the aesthetic of the picture I find very appealing. The clothes, the cars and the settings have real style, together with the type of crispness which I somehow associate with 1950s films made in colour.

Bernard Herrmann's music is very important to the atmosphere of this movie. In some scenes there is little or no dialogue, and the music is left to accompany the imagery, which is often the backdrop of San Francisco. The scenes where Stewart follows Kim Novak early in the film are quite eerie, and one can imagine that they have been quite influential in the ensuing decades.

Both James Stewart and Kim Novak have great screen presence, the former being particularly impressive for me in the later portions of the film. A word too for the performance of Barbara Bel Geddes as Scottie's friend and ex-fiancee Midge. She appears not to have received the praise she deserved for her contribution.

No doubt the critics have dissected and analysed Vertigo endlessly, seeking to extract portentous meaning from every frame, but when I saw the film I did not grasp much in the way of profound messages. I was too preoccupied with the central plot, constantly asking myself "Have I understood what's going on here?  Have I got this straight?. Much is left unsaid, this being aggravated perhaps by the relative sparsity of the dialogue.

The story is complicated, strange even, but any concerns on that score are rendered largely immaterial by its sheer magnetism, and the partially-overlapping layers of intrigue, irony and deceit.

Vertigo is a gripping and even occasionally disturbing film, and is well worth a watch.




Monday 2 November 2015

WarGames - (1983 movie) - review

Over three years ago now, I wrote an article about the 1983 movie WarGames , but much of that post was taken up with my incoherent ramblings about Cold War politics and the like. So here are some more random thoughts about this film, which remains one of my favourites from the 1980s....



To recap, WarGames tells the story of David Lightman, a high school student who inadvertently hacks into the American nuclear defence system.

The opening scenes, showing the launch procedure which turned out to be a drill, are taut with tension and drama. There is great use of lighting and close-up shots of the actors. I always get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach when watching this scene, imagining the inner thoughts of people caught up in that situation, no matter how well trained they are.

Aside from the subject matter, the centrepiece of the picture for me is the very mature performance of Matthew Broderick as David Lightman. He is a rounded and likeable character, and perhaps not the stereotypical "nerd" in some respects.  Yes, he has some of the characteristics of a nerd, but in other ways not, for example in his ability to impress and attract Jennifer (Ally Sheedy). The chemistry between the two young actors helps to carry the movie.

David's attitude towards authority figures, such as teachers and his parents, is intriguing. The sign on his bedroom door (This Is A Secure Area - Authorized Entry Only - No Exceptions) illustrates this point. Occasional insolence and mild rebellion, added to more passive gestures of defiance and individuality?

If the portrayal of American high school life in the 1980s was in any way accurate, then I must conclude that I was born on the wrong side of the Atlantic. I would dearly love to have been able to go to school in a tee-shirt and jeans, and not the dreary uniform that I was forced to wear here in England. Also, the school buildings in the movie looked much more inviting than the dilapidated mausoleum in which much of my education took place.

It is easy, especially in hindsight, to make pedantic "technical" queries about the accuracy or plausibility of things which happen in the film, and how the computing environment of the early 1980s was depicted. Was David's computer stuff cobbled together from kit-form purchases, second hand gear, and so forth?  His equipment was certainly superior to anything which myself or any of my peers had at home. David clearly knew people who worked in I.T., as evidenced by the amusing scene where he consults two friends at a local company.

There were bits of the film which I really identified with from my own youth. The scene at the dinner table where David is reading a computer magazine, oblivious to parental strictures, reminds me of the days when I would bury myself in those magazines, and the adverts, promising imminent delights, were sometimes more diverting than the actual content.

Back in the day, we had heard about the sort of activities which David was engaging in, although it all seemed rather remote and exotic. One or two friends of mine had outlandish plans to run modems with primitive home computers such as the Sinclair ZX81. However, at the end of the day, all we wanted to do was play games...

The scenes in David's room, when he and Jennifer are fooling around on the machine, are delightfully executed. Lighting, reflections and sound effects are all cleverly used to envoke that seductive world.

The odd little touch stands out in the film. When David and Jennifer first break into the defence system, and the list of games appears on the screen, there is a slight pause, and a gap, before the title "Global Thermonuclear War" comes up. A sense of foreboding is created, and this initiates the next phase of the movie.

A word too about the electronic music which appears throughout WarGames. This type of music was still quite a rarity in movies back then, and it nicely complements the narrative and the subject matter.

Looking at the David Lightman character, he in many ways represents what I wished I'd been at that age. Self-sufficient, inquisitive , forever seeking out knowledge. His efforts in finding information about Falken, and then tracking him down towards the end of the film, show these qualities. Again, not as much an awkward, shy computer geek, as one smart kid.

Another notable scene involves a striking juxtaposition of emotions.  David returns home to be congratulated on his excellent grades (achieved in large part by hacking into the school's computer), whilst at the time same time seeing a television news report of the drama which he, unwittingly, had triggered.

The scene where he is arrested is also captured concisely and sharply. David emerges from a store, and suddenly various (what turn out to be FBI) men are closing in from all directions. One can sense his fear, anxiety and confusion, but as we see, his resourcefulness is not hindered for very long.

Some people have queried whether David would have been taken to the NORAD facility in the wake of his arrest. Surely he would have been transported to some FBI location? Admittedly, the method of his escape from the "mountain", blending in with a tour party, is also a little far-fetched. In the grand scheme of things, however, this does not spoil my enjoyment. This is entertainment, not a documentary.

I was seriously impressed at how David was able to memorize Falken's address. He only seemed to view it for barely a second or two on the terminal in McKittrick's office! Perhaps a photographic memory can be added to his formidable list of powers....

The WOPR (the big computer at the war room) clearly worked on the unimpeachable principle that processing power should be directly proportional to the number of brightly flashing coloured lights which it possesses...

Mention should also be made of perhaps the most visually appealing scene in the movie, the bit where David is dropped off by a splendid logging truck at a stunning location in the middle of nowhere, and proceeds to make a call from a 'phone box. By the way, where did Jennifer get the money to pay for their airline tickets?

The belated appearance of Falken "in the flesh" is a highlight, and adds some gravitas to the proceedings. The final scenes in the "war room" are brilliantly done.  Even though we kind of know the outcome, the tension is palpable.

An underrated film, this. I still love watching it. To me, it never gets old....










Saturday 31 October 2015

Halloween

Well, Halloween has come around again, and it seems to be a much bigger thing these days here in England, no doubt because the bean-counters in the corporate world have woken up to the fact that it is an easy way to separate people from their hard-earned money.

This wasn't always the case, at least on this side of the Atlantic. When I was growing up, Halloween was an established part of the calendar, but there was little of the hysteria, peer pressure and general media saturation coverage which we are bombarded with nowadays. The shops were certainly not overflowing with Halloween-related "merchandise". Or maybe I lived a sheltered existence, and the "trick or treat" phenomenon was widely established in these parts, and I was blissfully oblivious to it all?

I vaguely remember going to Halloween "parties" as a youngster, but I cannot recall exactly what went on at these events. We may even have played various traditional Halloween games, I'm not entirely sure.  I may even have donned a scary mask or two at various points, I don't know. It all felt like going through the motions....

To what do we attribute the greater seriousness and intensity with which people appear to approach Halloween these days?  Could it be that Halloween represents an oasis of tradition and simplicity in our overly complicated society? I was raised in an organic and analog world, so things like Halloween must have seemed like less of a big deal. We had so many other things to entertain and divert us.

From the vantage point of 2015, I reckon I missed out on a lot of fun.  Even the less "sophisticated" Halloween festivities which my generation enjoyed failed to realize their full potential.  Oh, to have those years all over again...




Friday 30 October 2015

The Wayne's World Movies

There will doubtless be some media coverage in the next few days about the fortieth anniversary of the original release of Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody". Included will probably be reference to the song's second lease of life following its inclusion in a memorable scene in the first "Wayne's World" movie. I recently watched both of the "Wayne's World" films, back-to-back, and found them highly enjoyable.

The thing which stands out for me is the fast pace of the first picture in particular, and the amount of information, particularly the pop-culture references and often obscure jokes. For this reason, the movies bear repeated viewings, so that anything which was missed can be swept up and absorbed. There is a lot going on....

The movies both celebrate and satirize modern media culture, and poke fun at consumerism. One thing which is curious about these films is that by the time they appeared in the early 1990s much of the music and ethos which they seek to venerate was being deemed passe. However, its celebration of the wonder and the occasional absurdity of the "classic rock" genre is touching - the guitar shop scenes epitomize this almost naive enthusiasm, as does the "homage" paid to Alice Cooper and Aerosmith.

Inter-generational teasing forms part of the comedy, as does sending up what Wayne and Garth would perceive to be the dullness and conformity of the corporate world. To describe it as "the kids against everybody else" would be to over-simplify it, but the sub-text is definitely there.

I don't think that Mike Myers has received sufficient credit for his acting performance as Wayne.  He is dynamic but subtle, and he also displays his talent for physical comedy. My interpretation is that Dana Carvey intentionally plays Garth in an "exaggerated" way, so as to accentuate the character's social awkwardness and geekiness.

The sub-plots greatly enrich both of the films. The morose musings of the guy who runs the diner, Wayne's ex-girlfriend Stacey, and in "Wayne's World 2" Garth's romantic liaison with Kim Basinger. The latter was one of the seemingly unlikely but ultimately inspired castings in the movies, two others being Rob Lowe and Christopher Walken, not to mention the cameo by Charlton Heston in the second picture.

I find the plot of the first film to be somewhat unoriginal - evil businessmen and media moguls exploit and ruin innocent and vibrant youth culture - but it is so well executed and entertaining that this hardly matters.

In some ways I prefer "Wayne's World 2" to its predecessor. The plot revolving around a rock festival is more interesting. The writing is sharper, the musical content is cooler (Bad Company, Edgar Winter Group, Golden Earring etc.) and it feels more like a real story. In addition, the sequel is imbued with instant validity by virtue of the appearance by Harry Shearer of Spinal Tap fame!

There are some stellar and engaging scenes in the second movie - the launderette encounter between Garth and Kim Basinger, the martial-arts-film-spoof involving Wayne and Cassandra's father, and of course the great "Village People" parody.

My main gripe would be that a similar "alternative endings" formula was employed in both films. However, both remain fine, feel-good entertainment.


Wednesday 28 October 2015

Eldorado - Electric Light Orchestra - album review

They may not be too fashionable, but I retain a fondness and respect for the music of the Electric Light Orchestra. My brother got into them long before I fully appreciated their merits. Jeff Lynne's pop craftsmanship and gift for melody were the band's major assets. Refreshingly ELO did not set out to change the world;they simply aimed to make good music.

In declaring my liking for ELO's work, I would stress that my tastes have gravitated more and more to their earlier records, in the main the period ending around 1976/77. This phase of the group's career combines some progressive and experimental elements with impeccable pop/rock influences, most conspicuously The Beatles.

Prominent amongst the early releases is 1974's Eldorado. A concept album, it seemingly explores the dreamlike visions of a person striving to flee his dull existence. It was also their most lush and "polished" album up to that point, from a production and sound standpoint. It is possible to contend that other ELO albums contain stronger individual songs, but few hang together like Eldorado does. 

As befits any self-respecting concept album, this record is bookended by an overture/prologue and an epilogue/reprise/finale. The first proper song is "Can't Get It Out Of My Head". To coin a phrase, this one is more deceptive than it sounds, and which in its ability to implant itself in the psyche more than lives up to its title. It contains a few evocative lines, and was a hit single of some magnitude in the USA.

"Boy Blue" appears to relate a tale of a conquering hero returning to his hometown. There are some mildly interesting lyrics and some pleasant instrumental flourishes, but somehow this song fails to genuinely grab me or animate my imagination.

"Laredo Tornado" is a different matter. There is plenty to hold the interest, including sections which almost verge on the funky (not a word commonly associated with this band!). Jeff Lynne's facility for tunefulness is on display, and effective use is made of electric piano and what sounds like a clavinet. The strings on this track have real personality, presumably because they were performed by the band members rather than the session "orchestra".

The next number, "Poorboy (The Greenwood)" may have been intended as a "cousin" of "Boy Blue". It sounds vaguely similar , but has greater dynamism. The song's "protagonist" evidently sees himself as a Robin Hood type figure. The backing track features the familiar piano-bass-drums set-up which would proliferate on ELO records, although the drums sound sinuous and agile.  The group's drum sound would only become ponderous and excessive a bit later on.

With its blatantly Beatlesque leanings, "Mister Kingdom" is one of the LP's high points. The words directly address the "concept". The chorus is quite stirring, and the orchestration remains just the right side of ostentatious.

"Painted Lady" is somewhat unusual for Electric Light Orchestra, with its almost bluesy or jazzy flavour. Not a very imaginative song for me, and it does feel a little out of place among the more abstract and ethereal excursions which predominate on Eldorado.

A curious piece on more than one level, "Illusions in G Major" clearly owes a lot to Jeff Lynne's rock n roll heritage.  It also reminds me of one or two songs which appeared towards the end of the life of The Move. The lyrics are intriguing, and are possibly the most exotic or surreal on the record.

The title track features a simple but enticing melody in the verses, albeit offset by a dose of bombast in the choruses. I imagine that in studying the lyrics to these songs, many people will allow themselves a knowing smile, having recognized visions and dreams similar to those in their own supernatural wanderings.

So, one or two tracks are functional, but they function as part of the greater whole. An intriguing and entertaining journey, and a brave attempt at doing something different. Not a masterpiece by any means, but it is still one of ELO's most noteworthy achievements, and also serves as a healthy slice of escapism...


Tuesday 27 October 2015

The Rolling Stones - Exile On Main St. - album review

The apotheosis of the Rolling Stones' 1968-1972 purple patch, Exile On Main St., released in 1972, is for many the ultimate rock n roll album of its type, encompassing most of the styles which had inspired the group, and exuding an inimitable swagger and gritty authenticity.



This may or may not have been the musical blend which the Stones had always coveted, and whether it was arrived at consciously is open to question. I prefer to believe that the circumstances under which it was recorded, added to a myriad of other personal and musical factors, combined to create this compelling and effervescent vibe. Above all, they were not trying too hard, but just playing music and seeing where things took them.

People have often asserted that this is "Keith's" album, citing the evidence of his musical and "spiritual" footprint throughout the record. It is true that the mood and the direction bear the hallmarks of Keith, but I would argue that Mick Jagger and the supporting cast all contribute handsomely towards realizing the intoxicating mix. The fragmented nature of the sessions, together with the fact that the usual, conventional Stones unit did not play together on all the tunes, also played a role.

Exile On Main St. commences with as stark a statement of intent as could be imagined, in the form of the tracks "Rocks Off" and "Rip This Joint". Both songs exemplify the spirit behind the project, and introduce us to the murky mix and endearingly "ragged" sound which permeate so much of the record.

The running order is astutely arranged in order to illustrate the full diversity of roots genres on display - blues, soul, country and so forth. The album also benefits from having few "famous" numbers or hit singles on it. It is an album in the true sense, and not a collection of catchy tunes supported by filler. Despite the variety of styles which we hear, there is also a uniformity of "groove", difficult to describe in words, which is one of the keys to the album's greatness.

The impression of spontaneity which emerges is heightened by the naturalness of the singing and vocal harmonies on many numbers. "Sweet Virginia" is a good exemplar of this trend, a song which one could envisage being sung around a camp-fire....

Several other ingredients embellish the picture. Rarely has the undemonstrative, laconic brilliance of Charlie Watts' drumming been more clearly captured, and Mick Taylor has ample opportunity to exhibit his finesse and versatility on guitar.

Some of the songs on "Exile" are among the most substantial and emotionally gripping in the Stones' catalogue, but these songs do not loom that largely in the wider public consciousness. I am thinking of the likes of "Let It Loose", "Soul Survivor" and "Shine A Light".  "Soul Survivor" is searing and defiant, and appropriately closes out what was the band's most fertile phase, "Let It Loose" a haunting ballad which musically dwarfs other such Stones efforts.

It is possibly true that, individually, some of the lesser songs on this LP are not as strong as their counterparts elsewhere in the Stones' oeuvre. However, this misses the point. The various curios and minor items fit perfectly into the framework of "Exile" (a double album when issued on vinyl)  and thereby endow it with its distinctive character. 

"Loving Cup" has always been a favourite of mine; I adore the melody as well as Keith's heartfelt harmonies. Everybody I suspect has their own favourite tunes from this record, and the fact that opinion is divided on many of them is a strength rather than a weakness.

Of the track listing, "Tumbling Dice" is almost certainly the best-known. Here, it is just another song, and somehow for those who were familiar with it before hearing all of the album, it almost seems out of place, guilty of having puts it head above the parapet and stood out from the crowd....

The outward confidence and unity depicted by Exile On Main St. could be said to be illusory, as the Stones were never to scale these heights again. Circumstances helped create the chemistry which triumphed here, but it could not last. Like so many albums whose reputation and appeal endures, it was met with mixed reviews when it first came out. If anybody asks me these days what the Rolling Stones were, and still are, all about, I would recommend that they listen to this captivating and joyous album.






Saturday 24 October 2015

News Of The World - Queen - album review

This record, released in 1977, marked a transitional phase for Queen, the end of their "classic" period, and the dawn of a more uncertain time.



Less time was taken recording this album than had been occupied making some previous ones, and the finished product had less polish, and more grit, than people had become accustomed to. Some, but not all, of the songs exhibited a more stripped down feel.

News Of The World also saw Roger Taylor and John Deacon making further inroads into the songwriting dominance hitherto exerted by Freddie Mercury and Brian May. This factor affected the content of the album. Stylistic unity was diluted, but horizons were broadened.

The influence of punk on this record, in purely musical terms, is debatable. However, the energy and spontaneity possibly owe something, even subconsciously, to the shifts in the cultural climate. The album's flavour may simply have been born of a desire, unconnected with new movements, to go in a less complicated or grandiose direction.

Of course, by far the best known songs on the record are "We Will Rock You" and "We Are The Champions", opening the running order and tending to obscure and overshadow much of what follows. Like so many popular songs, these two anthemic tracks enjoy a prominence far out of proportion to their artistic merit.

One of the highlights for me is "All Dead, All Dead", a typically introspective and ethereal Brian May composition. It has a pleasing melody and an understated, enigmatic character. One of the most unjustly overlooked Queen album tracks, in my humble opinion.

"My Melancholy Blues" has received greater recognition, as one of Freddie Mercury's most likeable and dextrous piano ballads. The composer's vocal and piano talents are well projected here, and it was an inspired choice as the closing track.

So where on the record do we encounter the new rougher, leaner Queen? Well "Sheer Heart Attack" is an obvious place to look. Frantic and relentless, with lyrics which touch on sentiments being vented by the younger bands emerging at the time. Lacking the finesse which characterizes many Queen tracks, critics might charge that this was a clumsy attempt to appear "hip" and "relevant". I would disagree with such assertions, as this was no great departure for Roger Taylor, sonically or lyrically. "Fight From The Inside" covers similarly urgent and abrasive terrain.

"Get Down, Make Love" is an unusual track, and one which is in keeping with the disorientating nature of some of this record. It is difficult to know what the melodic or musical origins of this song were, and its structure and rhythmic patterns anticipate other Freddie songs such as "Bicycle Race".

The simple and immediate "Sleeping On The Sidewalk" is also in accord with the overall thrust of News Of The World. It was by all accounts recorded rapidly, and it benefits from the resulting lack of artifice. A chance to hear some bluesy Brian May guitar work, which was a rarity on Queen records. The lyrics' ambivalence about fame and fortune, and the vagaries of the music business, were a recurring theme in the band's catalogue.

Ironically it was John Deacon who contributed one of the most "Queen-like" items on the LP, "Spread Your Wings". In fairness, this may have something to do with the arrangement with which the song was furnished. John also supplies "Who Needs You", a composition more in line with his "pop" reputation.

The other number in the patented Queen mould is Brian May's "It's Late", but even here we discern less emphasis on the perfectionism and layered approach of earlier times. The earthy guitars and the muscular rhythm section are testimony to this. As elsewhere on the set, Freddie's full vocal range is subordinated to a more raspy, throaty sound. That said, the song has a strong and affecting melodic appeal.

Despite new areas being explored, even casual observers would be able to identify this as Queen. In contrast to its predecessor, A Day At The Races, this record at least shows the band evolving. It may not be their best achievement, but the "attitude" and sporadic directness makes it an intriguing and enjoyable listen. It still sounds fresh, partly because it exudes some belief and conviction.

In its eclecticism and nods to "modernity", this record also set the group on the path towards what would start to crystallize on 1980's The Game. It was an uneven and patchy road, but the modern Queen sound began to emerge here.





Wednesday 21 October 2015

A Hard Day's Night - The Beatles - film review

A Hard Day's Night, released in 1964, was the Beatles' first movie, and by common consent their best.

The reasons why this picture succeeds where other Beatles celluloid efforts didn't are quite simple. They didn't try too hard, the plot was kept simple, and minds were not cluttered by grandiose visions or pretensions. The film is clothed in an "arty" veneer, largely due to the fact that it was made in crisp, evocative black and white. The pace is fast and breezy, brimming with the self-confidence of its time. And of course the music is wonderful!



The movie revolves around a journey made by the Fab Four to appear on a television show, and the associated activities of Paul's "grandfather", played by Wilfrid Brambell. In amongst all this there are musical set-pieces.

The opening title sequences set the tone with their slick editing, preparing us for the impending "journey". The scenes on the train are some of the best remembered, including the encounter with the man in the bowler hat (played by Richard Vernon). Here one of the main themes of the film is seen, namely the lads coming into contact with people and situations outside their normal milieu, and their cheeky irreverence with regard to authority figures and social class. The Beatles' humour helps to smooth the edges.

Of the Fab Four, Ringo Starr arguably displayed the greatest aptitude for acting and the comedic requirements of the film. John Lennon's wit and impishness carried him through. A few people have made disparaging remarks about Paul McCartney's acting here, but I don't think he fares too badly. Describing the band as "the new Marx Brothers" and Ringo as "the new Charlie Chaplin" was hyperbole, but there is no doubt that they exhibited a naturalness on screen, in this movie at least, and this contributed to an air of informality which is most endearing.

There is some attempt to depict the Beatles' routine, including their hectic schedule and the demands of the fans and fame. Occasionally this feels artificial, but generally their charm wins the day. The "non-acting" segments are more convincing, almost having a documentary-like flavour. The implication of some scenes I think is that the Beatles were isolated and suffocated by their fame, whilst others are having enormous fun on their coat-tails.

The various small "sketches" and vignettes help to give A Hard Day's Night a distinctive quality. The "shaving" scene involving George Harrison and John Junkin, with John Lennon clowning around in the bath, springs to mind. Odd surreal touches like these lift the picture out of the ordinary, and hold the interest.

The "Ringo on the run" scenes have been justly acclaimed, both for the acting and the cinematography. Was the moral here that "normal life" is just as lonely and complex as life in the spotlight of millions?  All existence has its disappointments, its downsides and its dark sides.

Some of the social commentary is quite subtle, most notably when the guys meet "media types", who represent a transitional stage between the old school of the fifties and the Swinging Sixties generation. The film gently pokes fun at some of the cliches and absurdities of the showbusiness crowd

Brambell, Junkin and others add a solidity and a substance to the acting. Victor Spinetti delivers a nice comedic stint as the morose director/producer at the television studios. Spinetti's "hairy" sweater is also the sartorial high point of the film!

Although the story drifts a fraction towards the end, this is still a charming document of a period in time, as well as fine entertainment.








Tuesday 20 October 2015

Sticky Fingers - The Rolling Stones - album review

Sticky Fingers, released by the Rolling Stones in 1971, is deserving of its place in the company of the other great studio albums issued by the group between 1968 and 1972. Of the albums from that era Sticky Fingers has the lowest emotional pull for me, even though it contains some truly great tracks, and it has also stood the test of time well.

The reason why it doesn't chime as richly as the others is that it is rather "neat and tidy". It is in fact a stylistically diverse record, but is structured in such a way that it feels very orderly. So it serves more as a collection of songs rather than an overall musical or philosophical statement. Saying that it lacks the social relevance of Beggars Banquet and Let It Bleed is not wholly fair. One could argue that Sticky Fingers reflects the jaded resignation and stagnation of the early Seventies. Whilst in the late Sixties people were seeking to change the world, or to vent their anger, by 1971 the trend was towards looking inwards or numbing the pain.



The opening number on the LP, "Brown Sugar", is one of the band's signature tunes, although I have heard it so often that its impact has become progressively dulled, and there is a danger that it can begin to feel like a self-parody or "Stones-by-numbers". Viewed objectively, it is a musical tour-de-force, although the lyrics are dated to put it kindly, regardless of how much tongue might have been embedded in the collective cheek of the musicians. Keith Richards' riffs and Charlie Watts' drumming are still worth hearing, no matter how much familiarity has eaten away at the song's freshness.

This was the first Stones studio album to feature Mick Taylor throughout as a full member, and it is noticeable how his presence and abilities augment the group's palette. "Sway" is one instance of this, his guitar prowess adding much subtlety and melodic texture, as it does on other numbers.

"Wild Horses" is one of the band's most enduring and heartfelt ballads, benefiting from one of Mick Jagger's most impressive and underrated vocals. Keith's electric guitar flourishes are very evocative and significantly enhance the mood of the piece.

I find "Can't You Hear Me Knocking" to be quintessential early Seventies Stones, at least in its early stages. The angry rhythm, the lyrical subject matter, the murky vocal harmonies in the chorus, nicely buried slightly in the mix. The closing instrumental section is slightly untypical of the Stones, but is beautifully executed, with significant contributions from Bobby Keys and Mick Taylor. These passages have a vaguely Latin feel, and are in keeping with the laid-back, "decadent" feel of much of the record.

"You Gotta Move" in some respects harks back to the stylistic territory covered by Beggars Banquet and Let It Bleed, and it is another showcase for the talents of Mick Taylor.  The song "Bitch" is so wonderfully taut, urgent and airless that it can almost pass by unnoticed. It has some nicely ragged vocal harmonies and effective brass parts.

The influence of the Stax sound is clearly evident on "I Got The Blues", most conspicuously in its horn arrangement and the organ playing of Billy Preston.  Another fine Jagger vocal here, and although overall the song is relatively "minor", it is just too good to be deemed filler.

"Sister Morphine", co-written by Mick and Keith with Marianne Faithfull, is a haunting creation, and it also sounds like a hangover from the material of the late Sixties, which is not surprising when one realizes that this version was recorded during the Let It Bleed sessions. The slide playing of Ry Cooder is a key element of the song's power. Of course the subject of the words was a theme which ran through Sticky Fingers, in one form or another...

The penultimate track on the album, "Dead Flowers", is one which I suspect divides opinion. One of the band's first overt excursions into the world of country-rock. It may be tongue-in-cheek lyrically, and to some degree musically,although not without its merits. The chorus harmonies are quite stirring, and the song helps to lighten the mood amidst the weightier and more earnest material which surrounds it.

"Moonlight Mile" deserves its reputation as one of the most effective album-closers in rock music. Atmospherically and spiritually it complements the rest of the record, and it arguably encapsulates where the wider music scene was in 1971. Mick's vocal shows some versatility and range, and strengthens the view that this album is one of those which displays his voice at its strongest and most flexible. Strings are employed judiciously, and other instrumental touches accentuate the tone and ambience of the song.

So in summary it takes a little work to absorb and appreciate the strengths of Sticky Fingers. It can be seen as a summation and a rounding up, or polishing, of what had gone immediately before. As an entity in itself it may be perceived as less iconic and "important" than the other classic Stones releases of the period, but on closer examination it is as substantial as any of them, and arguably contains less in the way of lightweight material.

The music is still earthy and authentic, but also focussed and self-assured. A very fine album.














Saturday 10 October 2015

The Great Escape (1963) - movie review

Some time ago I wrote a blog post about the classic 1963 movie The Great Escape. Recently I watched the film again, and here are some more random thoughts about it.



One of the aspects of the film which intrigues me is the way in which relations between the camp authorities and the prisoners are portrayed. If not exactly warm or amicable, then there was at least some vague semblance of understanding, as fellow flyers perhaps?

The antipathy between the Luftwaffe officials running the camp and the Gestapo and SS is another significant sub-plot. This is displayed most clearly in the scene where "Big X" is first brought to the camp . One gets the impression that von Luger saw the Gestapo and the SS as enemies as much as he did the Allies. How closely all this was representative of the true historical picture remains open to discussion of course.

To most people The Great Escape is remembered for its action and adventure elements. However, it is often forgotten how much attention is devoted to moral issues and personal relationships. It's not exactly Ingmar Bergman, but the characters are not quite as one-dimensional as the film's reputation might imply.

Virgil Hilts, as played by Steve McQueen, is a rounded creation, and was seemingly a composite of several real-life characters. Truculent and abrasive, mostly towards his adversaries, but also capable of practicality and circumspection. His partnership with Ives is one of the more touching tangents in the movie. A similar scenario develops between Hendley (James Garner) and Blythe (Donald Pleasence). Contrasts in cultures and temperaments, but genuine warmth and affinity.

Mention of Hilts and Hendley leads us on to one of the perennially contentious topics surrounding The Great Escape, namely the notion that the American characters reap a disproportionate slice of the "glory". In my opinion this is a simplistic way of seeing matters. Yes, Steve McQueen participates in the iconic motorcycle sequences. However, at the same time it must be pointed out that the Americans come across as more realistic and measured in their approach to the proposed escape. Hilts, for example, initially questions the sanity of Bartlett's outlandish designs.

In contrast to their colleagues, the British seem to be placing too much emphasis on "duty", and are too sure of themselves, failing to take account of some sentiment and variables. There is a similar, if more acute, dynamic in The Bridge On The River Kwai, namely the tension between William Holden and his British colleagues.

As the character comes across in the film, Big X (as played by Richard Attenborough) is easy to admire and respect. He is the dynamic driving force and leader which all complex and fraught enterprises need. In Attenborough's portrayal he is single-minded, but watching the film unfold I wonder whether some of his subordinates are excessively deferential and receptive to his authority. Even Ramsey, who is nominally Big X's superior in the camp pecking order, seems powerless to intervene.

I know that it is churlish to nit-pick about the plausibility of aspects of the plot, but I'm going to do it anyway. The depiction of the planning stages for the escape makes one wonder how the Germans would not have uncovered or stumbled upon the preparations earlier than they did (they eventually found one of the tunnels). In all honesty, this small caveat does not detract from the quality of the film or its value as entertainment. After all this is a movie, not a documentary. Compromises such as this, and the compressing of timescales, were made to render the picture palatable and digestible for cinema-goers. The apparent ease with which Werner was able to procure a suitable camera for the prisoners is an example of this.

No minor gripes can obscure our admiration for the resourcefulness and courage required to get the escape bid organized in the first place, and co-ordinate the elaborate precautions. In spite of the occasional dissenting voice, there is a unity of purpose. The Germans scored an own goal by placing many officers together, with their obligations, and their wide range of technical expertise and personal attributes.

There are some "technical" matters which contribute to the flavour of The Great Escape. The tunneling scenes are beautifully shot, the set designs amply conveying the claustrophobia, the danger and the arduous nature of the work. The lighting in the tunnels is also beautifully executed and designed.

The sunlight in many of the "exterior" scenes has an almost baleful quality to it. This might have something to do with the film stock used, I'm not sure, and might therefore have been unintentional. Either way, it adds in a curious way to the atmosphere.

One of the more affecting relationships in the movie is that between Hendley and Werner, the camp guard. Werner's timid, vulnerable countenance belies a few stereotypes. These scenes almost leave one with a twinge of ambiguity, as the guard is manipulated and used by Hendley.

A criticism which I think is valid is that of the Gestapo and SS characters in the film. Both in their appearance and in their dialogue they feel like caricatures, and it is one of the few areas where a slight lack of finesse is discernible. Was it a rather clumsy attempt to introduce a clear contrast with the more moderate Luftwaffe personnel?

The pace and drama move up a notch with the "4th of July" festivities and the death of Ives. Elation and jollity turning to despair, but the grim resolve remained.

Does The Great Escape go on too long?  For the average 21st-century attention span maybe it does, but not to me. For a full appreciation of the intricacies and the twists, an above-average running time was imperative, and space is permitted for the various sub-texts to breathe.

Of the other acting performances, James Garner is assuredly, solidly impressive.  I have always liked him as an actor. Despite the often devious and underhand means which he employs, Hendley is a sympathetic character - compassionate, level-headed and strong, and Garner's persona is a major reason for this.

James Coburn's attempt at an Australian accent has attracted much comment down the years, but in his hands Sedgwick emerges as one of the most interesting figures in the group.  Despite his quirks, he displays more savvy than most in the aftermath of the escape.

The excitement and tension of the "post-escape" sequences is exacerbated by the contrast between the wide-open spaces of the German countryside and the confines of the camp. Life beyond the wire presented many perils, though. The escapees were running grievous risks, in wearing civilian clothing and carrying false identification papers, as is amply demonstrated in those sequences.

The Great Escape is not unremittingly gloomy, but neither is there much in the way of levity. The fate of those prisoners executed near the end reminds us that the realities could be very far removed from Boys' Own stuff, and also what this struggle was really about.

A thread which runs through the movie is that of Hilts' baseball glove and ball. It is unclear whether any special meaning was implied through this, but I suppose that the "thwack" of the ball hitting the wall of the cooler cell could be interpreted as a metaphor for defiance of the enemy, and/or a determination to carry on with established traditions. Also, a gesture of individualism, both directed at the enemy and against the world at large?
























Saturday 3 October 2015

On The Road - Jack Kerouac - book review

"On The Road", the classic 1957 novel by Jack Kerouac, had been residing on my bookshelves for some time, pleading to be read. To my shame, I have hardly read any "Beat" literature, and was therefore a little unsure what to expect.

In a nutshell, "On The Road" tells the story of Sal Paradise (the narrator, and based on Kerouac himself) and his friends as they embark on various journeys and trips across America. It is semi-autobiographical, and other characters are based on Kerouac's friends and associates. The tale is set primarily in the late 1940s.

To grasp the essence of this novel, it is necessary to understand the mindset of the colourful characters, in particular that of Dean Moriarty, Sal's friend and regular travelling companion. They habitually operate outside what would be considered social norms. The fact that their outlook still seems outlandish is perhaps a sad commentary on twenty-first century life. Are we still, deep down, so conformist?

The "Beat" concept is somewhat nebulous at the best of times, and must appear even more so with our modern modes of communication and discourse, and their tendency to polarize so many things. The lifestyles appear dissolute, but the joie-de-vivre of Dean and the others is enticing. Some of the behaviour detailed in "On The Road" must bemuse even self-proclaimed free spirits. The effect is perhaps more acute because these events are meant to have occurred not long after World War 2, in a period when we are told that most people were craving stability and security.

The fact that this book has a narrator is an aid to keeping track of the characters and their numerous trials, tribulations, revelations and relocations. One of the surprising things to newcomers is that this story is not one of a single journey or trip, but a series occurring over several years, with other events sandwiched in between.

Along the way, we meet a number of engaging and fascinating figures, and learn about their encounters with our "heroes". Many of these episodes are touching and poignant. Some are vignettes, others are more protracted and in-depth. The sadness and harshness of lives, but also the richness and vitality of our world and the human experience. The occasional craziness does not totally obscure the genuine pathos. What also emerges is an affinity for sub-cultures, for the marginalized and the downtrodden.

Whilst reading "On The Road", I was reminded that it would have been easier to pursue these adventures back in those days, when the world was not so weighed down by regulations and bureaucracy. The title "On The Road" does not just denote a journey, but a way of life, a world-view and an ongoing quest. The "unconventional" existence being led by these people was also a strikingly simple one. Straight society struggles to comprehend that it makes its own life complicated and burdensome.

The conduct of the circle becomes more exuberant and far-out once Dean Moriarty fully re-enters the fray. The prose grows more poetic and evocative, and the stream-of-consciousness a more frequent feature.

The outlook of some characters, such as Old Bull Lee, might surprise or confuse a few people. Explicit social commentary is offered only sparingly, and is not always about "obvious" topics. The reluctance to take the easy option is one of the most noticeable things about this novel.

It seemed that in this book, Kerouac acquired the knack of imbuing the mundane with drama and nobility, and of placing the everyday alongside the esoteric and the exotic. The "cameos", involving hitch-hikers and other people met along the routes, add charm and variety, and help to form the tapestry, as well as telling us more about the impulses driving the main players.

In amongst the euphoria and the exhilaration which the participants met on their travels, there were periods of disenchantment and despair, when "home", in its conventional sense, seemed the best place to be after all. In between the trips, acquaintances were renewed and the changes absorbed.

Personally, I could take or leave the lengthy passages extolling the virtues of various jazz musicians, and of the source and impact of their artistry, but I accept that they are important in forming an understanding the world of Dean, Sal and company.

Criminality raises its head more and more as the story progresses. They may have been testing the boundaries, but were they in reality flagrantly breaching them? A theme which gradually predominates is the decision of people to shun and ostracize Dean. Of course, Sal was not one of these. I identified with Sal more than I did with Dean, but Dean's story is admittedly more heart-rending, vibrant and eventful.

The chapters set in Mexico are the most stimulating, and in some respects the centrepiece of the whole story. Mexico as a metaphor for the promised land, what these people have been searching for? Needless to say, the ultimate outcome is rather ambiguous.

One of the lessons which I detected in the pages of "On The Road" is that however dismal and monotonous things may appear, there is always something good just around the corner, and there is plenty to relish and savour in the "here and now". Much of the problem is one of perception, and how we have been conditioned to think and approach our lives and the world around us. Life is a never-ending cycle...

This is a novel which it is possible to read quite quickly, as it has a flow to it, and does not compel the reader to take in every semi-colon and comma. Not quite what I was expecting, in all honesty, but equally I enjoyed "On The Road" more than I had anticipated.














Sunday 27 September 2015

Achilles Last Stand - Led Zeppelin

It is the conventional "wisdom" that "Stairway To Heaven" is Led Zeppelin's finest musical achievement, and their most meaningful and enduring legacy to the world. However, this is only the populist view, and I subscribe to the body of opinion that the accolade should really belong to "Achilles Last Stand".

Released in 1976, as one of the tracks contained on the "Presence" album, the song is notable for several reasons. Not only is it Zeppelin's last truly great piece of music, but it also in some ways represents the closing of an era in "classic rock", one of the last hurrahs before the supposed "watershed" of punk which, we are told, changed music forever.



Apart from its minor cultural and historical significance, "Achilles Last Stand" is memorable on so many other levels. The lyrics were at least partly inspired by the travels and experiences of Robert Plant and Jimmy Page. This and other elements and themes are woven into an epic and sweeping tale.

The various musical ingredients of the song are captivating independently, but they coalesce to bring about an invigorating whole. John Bonham's drumming appears in places to defy the laws of physics, helping to propel the backing track as well as inserting numerous unusual fills.

Jimmy Page's guitar work here is some of his most distinctive and incisive on any Led Zeppelin record. From the intro/outro, to his contribution to the basic riff, to the various solo sections. There is abundant spontaneity and technical prowess. Page would have been justifiably satisfied with the finished result, in view of the work which must have gone into the production.

The chugging bass-line performed by John Paul Jones has probably been quite influential, and often imitated. It is a crucial, integral part of the framework which makes the whole thing work, but it is equally understandable how even such an affecting bass part can be overshadowed by the drumming and the guitar parts.

Robert Plant's vocals both evoke the epic quality of the lyrics as well as acting as an additional instrument in themselves, in augmenting the textures created by the pyrotechnics of the other three musicians.

This track, and the album which it came from, were recorded at a transitional time for the band. Not long after it was released, changes were afoot in the wider musical landscape. In my mind, the "Presence" album is a little patchy and inconsistent in its overall quality, but "Achilles Last Stand" is a wonderful endorsement of the theory that "form is temporary, but class is permanent". Talent, imagination and diligence, when operating in unison, could still produce that intangible magic. For a band which many at the time asserted was in decline, or artistically stagnant, it has prodigious energy and self-confidence.

I have said that the song signifies the end of an era, as one of the last "epic" rock tracks to appear before the advent of the British punk movement.  In a sense, though, it also anticipates the musical direction in which Led Zeppelin might have gone, had they had the chance. Little did they know that more difficulties were on the horizon, and that their career would be tragically curtailed.

Friday 25 September 2015

The Battle For Spain - The Spanish Civil War 1936-1939 - Antony Beevor - book review

The Spanish Civil War remains highly emotive. Antony Beevor chronicles and analyses the conflict in his book The Battle For Spain.




In the chapters which constitute a "preamble", Spain's history prior to the 1930s is stressed , with some emphasis on the influence of the Church and the landowners. The country had, it appears, not been affected as much as other parts of Europe by liberalizing impulses.

The plethora of factions on both sides of this conflict can be confusing to say the least, but Beevor does his best to clarify who was who, and why. As he observes, this was not just a struggle between left and right, but also one between libertarianism and authoritarianism and centralization and "federalism"/separatism. These dynamics served to create a very intense and volatile picture.

It is difficult not to be sympathetic to the more libertarian elements of the republican side, however much one feels that they were occasionally naive in their idealism in the face of cold realities. The anarchist scene in Spain around that time, particularly that located in Catalonia, is a fascinating and thought-provoking phenomenon. For all its flaws, a hopeful and positive experiment.

My interpretation was that Beevor felt that the left misjudged the size of its mandate, with its strident rhetoric more than its actions, driving many into the arms of the nationalists. The right exaggerated the "threat".

The infighting between the various groupings, and the fragmented nature of the alliances, is one of the factors which gives the Spanish Civil War an enduring fascination. Loose cannons, hot heads, impractical idealism, brazen opportunism, impulsiveness, impetuosity and cold calculation - all played their part in the drama.

I was impressed by the author's analysis of the early stages of the uprising, the government's hesitant and dilatory initial response, and the motivations behind some of the early atrocities. The republican excesses were more the result of an outburst of rage and chaos. The nationalists, on the other hand, planned a systematic campaign of terror, even "cleansing". The language coined by some nationalist officials is chilling, like something harking back to the Middle Ages...

Beevor goes to great lengths to outline how the unity, or otherwise, of the two sides developed and evolved, Franco maintaining a semblance of cohesion via a mixture of concessions, sops, coercion and eventually demonstrable indispensability to the success of the nationalist cause. Staying largely above the internal strife also clearly helped him. The republicans were not so fortunate, of course, having the heavy hand of Stalin and the Comintern to contend with. Was it the case that the nationalists had a simplicity of purpose, even allowing for lingering agendas, so that they were able to keep their eyes on the prize?  It seems bizarre, but the situation in the anti-fascist camp was not that straightforward.

Another illuminating section of The Battle For Spain deals with the war economy in the republican zone, and the tensions which some methods sparked with the central government. It is difficult not to conclude that the anarchists sometimes clung too rigidly to lofty theories and ideals when a more pragmatic approach may have been more beneficial in the grand scheme of things. Later on, though, they felt with some justification that they were struggling for their very survival and identity.

The rather inglorious attitude of some foreign countries, as well as the manner in which big business connived with the nationalists, is a distasteful facet of the conflict. Yes, we all know now what Stalinism was like, but isn't this a case of being wise after the event? The "rationale" behind certain people's backing for Franco was rather grotesque. The republicans were drastically deprived of genuinely powerful friends, and the consequent reliance on support from the Soviet Union was to bear bitter fruit.

The "romance" surrounding the republican cause is very seductive, even if it is often tricky to pin down exactly. One of the main tasks of the historian therefore is to separate fact from myth, and to weigh what was propaganda, distortion or fabrication. I feel that Beevor remains relatively dispassionate throughout, and does not allow the emotive nature of the subject matter to impinge on lucid judgement. The cruelty and barbarism of the nationalists largely speaks for itself, although the cracks in the republican side take a little more explaining and understanding.

The International Brigades are often the things which most laymen remember about the Spanish Civil War, partly due to the literature and evocative tales which emerged, and also because of the principled stand which they made. Beevor strives to place their role into its proper perspective, and stresses how they slotted into the structure of the Republic's forces.

Diaries and private correspondence are invariably very useful in getting nearer to the truth. Intimate, often candid thoughts committed to paper in the midst of the maelstrom, not alloyed or compromised by propagandistic concerns or embellishment. Such material is made excellent use of in this book.

A probing look at the involvement of intellectuals and artists is also a feature of this work, how many became disillusioned, and how some journalists had their hands tied. It is also pointed how the "demonization" of the communists may have played into their hands, by allowing them to portray themselves as the sole meaningful and dedicated bulwark against fascism.

The portions which address the "civil war within a civil war" evoke a loss of faith among some of the leftist forces and the growth of disenchantment, It is at this point that the paranoia of the Stalin-aligned communists and their acolytes becomes a pervasive trend, seeing the hands of fifth-columnists in almost every military or political reverse. They had leverage, which meant that the other players in the republican fold had to tread carefully in dealing with them. They may admittedly have been on firmer ground in advocating firmer, more cohesive organization and leadership in the face of the nationalist threat.

The vagaries of Stalin's stance are strange. He was doing his best to conceal or downplay the "communistic" side of the republican make-up, for foreign consumption at least, whilst his men on the ground in Spain were throwing their weight around in no uncertain terms. The activities of the secret police, the harsh treatment of the International Brigades volunteers and the draconian punishments for soldiers are all documented here. It is easy to imagine how many people became exasperated and cynical.

A theme which emerges in the second half of this history is the tendency of the republican leadership, under communist sway, to embark on military adventures for reasons of propaganda, playing to both the domestic and international gallery, even when this was not consistent with military or strategic logic. At the same time, of course, the diplomatic picture was clouded and complicated by the gathering storm on the wider European scene. Decisions made regarding Spain were not made in isolation.

Rightly or wrongly, I discerned from some of the author's observations a sense that the republicans were almost naive and "green", both in some of their military decisions, and in their dealings with the outside world, in areas such as finance and arms procurement.

There is a look at what happened after the civil war concluded, including the fate of the exiles,and how Franco went about consolidating his grip on power. The role of both sides in the Second World War is given some attention, and Beevor also looks at the military lessons which the great powers learned, or disregarded, from the fighting in Spain. He also assesses the impact of the interventions made by the Soviet Union, Germany and Italy.

Overall, when reading this book I was left with a feeling of sadness at what befell Spain, at the behaviour of some people on both sides, and how those with honourable and humane motivations and intentions were let down, manipulated and misled.

The Battle For Spain is a sobering but rewarding and worthwhile read. It is well structured and paced, and it brings to life a tragic and contentious episode in modern European history.