Eddie The Eagle (2015 film)

 A film which I had intended to see upon its release, but which somehow slipped away from my attention, was 'Eddie The Eagle', a biopic which tells the story of the British ski-jumper Eddie 'The Eagle' Edwards.

To summarize, Edwards achieved international prominence and attention in 1988 through his appearance at the 1988 Winter Olympics in Calgary. His struggle to achieve his dream, and his determination to compete captured the public imagination for a short while.

I remember the 'Eddie The Eagle' phenomenon very well, as I was a very avid follower of all sports at the time, that is 1988. I'm not sure whether this was a particularly instructive example of the amateur ideal, because even in the 1980s there were 'elite', successful athletes in the Olympics who were still, to a lesser or greater degree, 'amateur'. No, I think that the draw of the 'Eddie the Eagle' story was that he was an 'everyman' figure, someone who the blue-collar audience could relate to and identify with, having his moment of fame, and making the most of it, not always acting in the way which was expected.

Anyway, I recently got around to watching the 'Eddie The Eagle' movie at last. One of the first things which was noticeable to me was that the production values were of a quite high order. Visually it is a pleasing work, and the CGI and other effects tend to complement the story rather than acting as a distraction. 

Importantly, the makers did not try too hard to make everything look 'very' 1970s or 1980s, and so evaded a failing which weighs down quite a few biopics of this type. The scene is set, and some context introduced, early on with some 'flashback' sequences illustrating the younger Eddie's Olympic aspirations and his efforts to overcome adversity. 

Taron Egerton gives an endearing and plausible performance as Eddie, capturing some of the loveable naivete and the persistence of the character, as well as instilling some nice comedic touches throughout. The scenes set in the Edwards family home familiarize us with idea that they are honest, down-to-earth people, without romanticizing this unnecessarily.

One of the keys to the narrative for me was that Eddie was resolutely serious about his ski-jumping endeavours, whilst all around him people were laughing and expressing disdain. By the standards of many biopics the script was crisp, and even if the dialogue was (very) occasionally corny, some of it was sharp and impactful.

There is the obligatory 'training montage', although this one is quite amusing, and in another parallel with the 'Rocky' films, a central mentor-pupil theme. In this case the mentor/coach is played by Hugh Jackman. The Bronson Peary character is fictional, incidentally, but hey this is a frequent occurrence in biopics....

One false note for me was struck by the characterisations of the British Olympic officials and some of the British competitors at the '88 Winter games. For me this was a slightly clumsy attempt to present the story as one of Eddie against The World, or at least Eddie versus The Establishment. An over-simplification, in all probability, but such over-simplifications are often deemed necessary by film-makers or their overlords in order to create 'tension' and 'conflict'.

Of the supporting cast, I thought that Keith Allen was very likeable as Eddie's father, expressing concern that the young man is neglecting his "normal" career, but ultimately being proud of Eddie's achievements. Jim Broadbent pops up as a TV commentator.

The heart of the film for me was the period which Eddie spent training and learning his craft in Germany. Here we see how Eddie's unaffectedness and uncomplicated tenacity endear him to some people, but also how he is ridiculed and patronised by some of the top-drawer competitors in his chosen sport.  The Petra character quickly takes up Eddie's cause, although his 'coach' Peary takes some work before fully becoming a convert. Petra and Bronson are, you might say, stock characters, but they are vital in facilitating the forward propulsion and development of the story.

I would say that the decision to base so much of the screen time at the German location was an astute one, as it lent some continuity and stability to the narrative, and there is the bonus of some very pleasant scenery.

The scenes set at the Winter Olympics at Calgary are a touch flimsy, but this is common with movies falling under this category. There is some cursory exploration of the notion that other athletes thought that Eddie was receiving too much adulation and attention, but very little about the fears that he was falling prey to people interested in 'using' him for commercial purposes; I distinctly remember the latter being a centrepiece of the media coverage about Eddie in 1988.

I think that the film, intentionally or otherwise, evoked the slightly surreal nature of the Eddie Edwards episode which I recollect from 1988, a story which arguably cannot be repeated today. 

Overall, I enjoyed it, and it had more substance and heart-warming appeal than I had expected. It got across the idea that 'ordinary' people might not be able to achieve success measured in terms of gold medals or their equivalent but simply striving to be involved and included can invigorate and ennoble them, and act as an example to others, but the idea was communicated here without being preachy or heavy-handed.

The Orion Loop - Soviet science fiction film (1981)

As part of my exploration of Soviet (and Eastern Bloc) cinema, and more specifically science fiction from those territories, I recently watched The Orion Loop, a 1981 Soviet science fiction movie.

Like many science fiction films from the USSR, The Orion Loop deals with the question of extra-terrestrial life and the potential for its contact with Earth and humans. The plot centres on Earth's efforts to investigation a strong radiation source which has been affecting other spaceships on the edge of the Solar System. The ship which is dispatched on this mission is crewed by a mixture of people and their android 'doubles'. Crew members receive 'visitations' from holograms, which seem to be emissaries from an ancient alien civilization. Some of this activity turns out to be connected to a 'galactic virus' which might affect Earth.

In common with many science fiction works generally (and not just the ones produced in the Communist world), this picture examines some Big Subjects, such as man's attitudes to science, reason, and progress.  International solidarity and co-operation are also shown in a positive light. However, the story (the screenplay was co-written by the famous cosmonaut Alexei Leonov) is quite multi-layered.

One of the central themes of The Orion Loop is how humanity should engage with aliens, and how we should give them a chance and regard their intentions as benign, benevolent and constructive. If we give harmony and conciliation a chance to develop, positive consequences may well ensue. Of course, we may infer that these topics were being employed, at least in part, as a metaphor for how the different peoples of Earth should relate to each other.

Part of the sub-text is that we often mis-read or misunderstand what genuinely threatens our well-being or security, suggesting that we devote excessive resources to tackling 'imagined' threats, when something less obvious or less immediately emotive represents a much more insidious danger. We should stop and ask ourselves what is the real reason behind phenomena which we think are inherently hostile, and we should trust people and Nature more. I interpreted the holograms as being a reference to the desirability of learning from history.

That the crew members of the Soviet spaceship have android doubles allows some exploration of 'humans versus machines' issues, with the insinuation that in certain circumstances human creativity and problem-solving and decision-making capabilities would win out. On the whole, however, I don't think that the film makes as much use of the androids as it could have done. The holograms are very well done, though.

It is interesting that the cybernetician is to some extent cast as the villain, and the irrational one. Perhaps the message is that Mankind's fate is in its own hands?

This one is similar in format and style to other sci-fi movies from the USSR, but this is the early 1980s, so it is more polished technically and contemporary looking, although the special effects and production values are nothing exceptional for the period. 

Maybe I am being my usual over-analytical self, but the 'internationalism' angle of these films intrigues me. Here, as elsewhere, it seems to me that the Soviet Union is portrayed as taking the lead and the initiative for the benefit and welfare of mankind.

In a broader sense the film is observing that there are things about the human mind, and the universe, which we still do not fully understand. We must keep working, methodically and rationally, to unlock and harness the universe's secrets.

I would say that The Orion Loop is a movie which is both enjoyable and cerebral. 

A Dream Come True (1963 Soviet science fiction film)

Continuing my exploration of classic Soviet science-fiction movies, I come to 'A Dream Come True', also known as 'Toward Meeting a Dream' (original title:- Mechte navstrechu), which was originally released in 1963. The film was directed by Mikhail Karyukov and Otar Koberidze.

The premise of the story is reasonably straightforward. A spaceship from a distant planet, journeying towards Earth, encounters difficulties and consequently lands on the planet Mars. The authorities on Earth dispatch spacecraft to render assistance and establish contact.

Although the plot is not that innovative, and in places it flirts with corniness, I found it to be quite an affecting picture. Visually it is lavish, and in its relative slickness it does not necessarily conform to our expectations of science fiction movies from that era. The impression is that the budget was above-average for this type of project, and this is reinforced by the quality of the 'special effects'. There is also some highly effective electronic music, courtesy of Eduard Artemyev.

The 'script' and the narrative explore the standard themes from Soviet films from this genre - faith in science and human progress, peace and international solidarity.  As is often the case, Space is employed as a metaphor for events on Earth. 

If there is an underlying message or philosophical conclusion from the story, it is perhaps one of sacrifice for the greater good, and for the sake of knowledge and progress. Also, that we should not assume the hostile or malign intentions of the inhabitants of other planets. I interpreted the level of political moralizing to be comparatively mild and subtle. To be honest, once one has watched a certain number of old Soviet sci-fi movies, some hard-nosed pragmatism and 'realpolitik' would be welcome as a counterpoint to the unremitting diet of 'idealism' and utopianism. 

A Dream Come True contains more in the way of emotion and 'romance' than your typical sci-fi work, and this might alienate some people who prefer a more 'ascetic' and clinical ambience in such films. The tone and aesthetic of the film are distinctly 'early Sixties' in flavour.

This might not be the most cerebral of science fiction films, but it is quite 'rounded', gripping and satisfying as a watching experience. The conclusion to the film does leave a glimmer of doubt, though.

Nosferatu (1922 film)

 In keeping with my haphazard exploration of certain genres of cinema, I recently viewed Nosferatu: A Symphony Of Horror, the classic 1922 German silent horror film, directed by F W Murnau, and starring Max Schreck.

This film is essentially a 'Dracula' movie.  The main character's name was changed to Count Orlok (played by Schreck). This, and other alterations from the original tale of Dracula, were made in an attempt to avoid copyright complications.

Nosferatu bears many of the hallmarks of the German Expressionist school, although I find that the sets and 'backgrounds' are less overtly emblematic of the style than, for example, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari.

It could be argued that exaggerated body language and facial expressions are present in most silent films, and they help to overcome the absence of spoken dialogue, and also heighten symbolism and the curiosity of the viewer. Emotion and meaning can be transmitted more deeply and acutely with the 'over the top' gestures and behaviour.  However, the impact of this acting 'style' seems even more pronounced when combined with some of the characteristics of German Expressionism, powerfully complementing the 'inanimate' features of the landscape or background.

This picture is almost one hundred years old, but its enduring resonance and draw underline the fact that film-making is about imagination, sensitivity and ideas, not cutting-edge technology or budget.  The limitations of the equipment possibly led people to dig deeper into their reserves. In addition, the relatively 'primitive' visuals and production values caused the viewers to delve into their own imaginations.

Acting-wise, Max Schreck naturally garners much of the attention in this film, and he is indeed captivating and scary, but another standout performance is that of Gustav von Wangenheim in the role of Thomas Hutter,

The outdoor settings are suitably bleak and forbidding, as are many of the sets and buildings, and the indoor locations, but again I would contend that the imagery is perhaps more subtle and less 'distorted' than some other movies from the same sub-genre. 

Good use is made of shadow, and not just in the very famous shots of Schreck ascending the staircase. It remains striking and humbling what film-makers were able to achieve in those days. And it was not just a case of innovation for the sake of innovation; such things were an integral part of the emotional narrative.

Nosferatu has an intangible power, which both absorbs and disturbs the viewer, and it is undeniably an astounding feat of cinema. A work of art as much as a film.

The Mysterious Wall (1967 Soviet science fiction film)

Picking up where I left off in my exploration of Soviet science fiction movies, 'The Mysterious Wall' is a 1967 effort, directed by Irina Povolotskaya and Mikhail Sadkovich.

The story centres on the appearance and evolution of a 'wall' which has appeared, and which appears to possess a considerable electrostatic potency. The film explores the efforts to understand this phenomenon, the discussions between the scientists at the research station adjacent to the 'wall', and how they interpret the 'visions' and hallucinations which it appears to engender.

I really enjoyed the debates among the scientists concerning the wall's properties and its meaning and significance, with some seeing it as a message from extra-terrestrial beings, and others suggesting alternative explanations. 

As is generally the case when viewing Soviet science fiction, there is a temptation, understandable perhaps, to read some overt ideological or political meaning into every image, or every snippet of dialogue, and it is important not to allow this compulsion to hinder one's enjoyment of the films for their own sakes.

Having stated the above, it is intriguing to note that a film focusing on a 'wall' was made in the Eastern bloc during the 1960s. Presumably the powers-that-be thought that the movie's overall philosophical orientation outweighed the importance of any perceived critique of 'walls' as a concept.

More broadly 'The Mysterious Wall' appears to concern itself with questions of the possibility of there being intelligent extra-terrestrial life, and what the effects and implications of discovering such life would be. Also, I sensed that the the makers were posing questions about possible centralized attempts to control the scientific agenda and keep 'mavericks' under control, and about the attendant struggles between various factions within the system. 

One interesting question which appeared to me due to this picture was whether the Soviet authorities would have found the appearance of alien beings desirable, and how it would have fitted into their worldview, and their sense of their own primacy or supremacy.  

I liked the film, all in all, as it has a pleasingly organic flavour, and it is not marred by a compulsion to 'do special effects'. The plot and the atmosphere are enough.  There is an interesting insinuation, to begin with, that the scientists already 'in situ' at the research base adopt a 'space station mentality', evincing a separateness. I would have liked this element of the plot to be developed more fully.  The hallucination or 'dream' sequences are nicely done, and are arguably more polished than the rest of the film.

So, this is not a startlingly original film, and the subjects which it explores are by and large standard science fiction fare, but the dialogue comes across as sincere, rather than corny or patronising.

A well made and interesting science fiction movie.

Barbara (2012 German film)

Recently, I finally managed to see the 2012 German film Barbara, after purchasing the DVD.

The film, directed by Christian Petzold, is set in the German Democratic Republic, circa 1980.  Barbara (played by Nina Hoss) is a physician, who formerly worked at a prestigious hospital in East Berlin, but she has been "banished" to a small clinic near the Baltic coast, apparently as punishment for having submitted an application to leave East Germany. Essentially the movie centres on Barbara's relationship with her colleague Andre, who has some secrets of his own, and on the activities of some people wishing to escape from the DDR.

The first things which was noticeable to me about this movie were its "autumnal" hues, characteristic of many films about East Germany. Apart from being easy on the eye, this property also helps to capture the supposed drabness of life in the DDR.

Another strand which runs throughout Barbara is a pervasive atmosphere of wariness and guardedness amongst the characters. People may have been conditioned to suspect the motives and intentions of others, expecting to be betrayed or placed under surveillance of some kind.

If a mood of mutual suspicion and distrust was indeed a feature of the East German system, then this is shrewdly and effectively conveyed in this picture. Tension is created and accentuated by a certain quietness, and an uneasy tranquility.

Much of the dialogue is sparse and clipped, as if nobody wants to say anything incriminating or susceptible to misinterpretation. The unease and circumspection are palpable. However, this is all done in such a way that the viewer senses that most citizens knew the score and the realities of the security apparatus, and that there was an unspoken assumption amongst people about the degree to which people's lives were infiltrated and manipulated.

The "provincial" setting makes a welcome change from the concrete canyons which often dominate movies about East Germany. We see some different facets of the country and the system. Many of the scenes in the countryside are accompanied by very breezy weather conditions, and this complements the subject matter quite well.

Nina Hoss gives a highly believable and sensitive performance as Barbara, and Ronald Zehrfeld is also excellent in the role of Andre Reiser, The plot unfolds subtly and gradually, not giving too much away, but it is beautifully realised, and the result is an understated but highly affecting story.

To sum up, Barbara is an absorbing, elegantly produced and at times moving film.

Aguirre, the Wrath Of God (1972 film)

This movie, directed and produced by Werner Herzog, tells the story of a group of 16th century Spanish conquistadors who embark on an expedition in the Amazon to discover the "golden city" of El Dorado.  Klaus Kinski appears in the title role.

Some of the visual imagery in this film is quite spectacular, and reminded me somewhat of the content of some of Herzog's documentaries. Man's struggle with nature is strongly projected, as is his insignificance and helplessness when faced with the strength and pitilessness of the elements.

The plot basically centres on Aguirre's taking control of the group on the journey, in the face of mutinies, setbacks and tragedies. It is easy to conclude that the film becomes bogged down, or loses its clarity and direction, in its middle section, but these sequences are vital to understanding the narrative and the motives of the participants. With these dynamics thus absorbed, the conclusion to the work becomes more rewarding and digestible.

A large part of the fascination of this movie is its examination of power dynamics and personal megalomania, even when largely abstract and pointless, within an isolated group. A microcosm, perhaps, of human social structures and how they are affected by human nature. It also says something about the differences between real power and that which is symbolic or merely imaginary. Power can sometimes be desired and acquired for its own sake, as an end in itself, even where there appears to be no tangible objective or result.

Clearly, for a film set during the early days of European colonialism, one is forced to ask who were the civilised people, and what constitutes "civilised" behaviour. One can argue that the Europeans were self-appointed arbiters.

So overall this is a powerful, visually spectacular and engrossing film, with great, atmospheric music courtesy of Popol Vuh.

Nosferatu - Phantom der Nacht - 1979 film

I recently watched this film, directed by Werner Herzog, which is essentially a remake of the classic 1922 silent picture, which itself was essentially an adaptation of the Dracula story.

The visuals in this movie are lavish and impactful, and this factor is important in capturing and instilling the requisite mood.  The same could be said for Popol Vuh's atmospheric and evocative soundtrack. Their styles could have been made for this kind of subject matter, although perhaps not traditionally what one would associate with vampire stories.

This interpretation of the story appears to slant towards an examination of Dracula's personal plight, a psychological study, and looks at how he was trapped by his predicament.

Tension and anticipation are expertly constructed. Part of the interest is in discovering what kind of take Herzog applies to the tale and the traditions. Great use is made of brooding, menacing natural landscapes, and shadow and light. To my mind this picture is more "European" than other vampire movies, with an additional layer of mystique and eeriness.

The dialogue is relatively sparse, and this leaves gaps which accentuate the sense of dread and uncertainty. Klaus Kinski is supremely creepy in the title role, evoking a character who inspires fear, but also fascination and even sympathy.

With its Gothic majesty and the scenes involving rats, this movie is quite uncompromising, stark and unremitting, but highly accomplished technically and eminently watchable.

Les Rendez-vous d'Anna (The Meetings of Anna) - 1978 film

This is an intriguing and sometimes unsettling film, directed and written by Chantal Akerman, and starring Aurore Clement.

The story follows a film-maker (Anna) as she journeys across Europe on business. Along the way she has encounters with friends, strangers, relatives, acquaintances and lovers. She listens to the other people as they tell their stories and their gossip, but she seems curiously distant and disengaged. This is a film about isolation, the personal price of success, and about the human condition in general, set against the backdrop of an economically and socially stagnant continent, rendered so by the energy crisis and its effects.

I would say that the world portrayed in this movie is dreary and impersonal, characterised by uniformity, routine and ennui. There is almost a surreal flavour at points, conveying the unnaturalness and loneliness. The relative sparsity of the dialogue heightens the unreality and the discomfort, as does the relative absence of bystanders when characters are interacting with each other.

Aurore Clement is perfect for the role of Anna.  Effortlessly elegant and compelling, but possessing the ability to maintain an impassive visage, which at the same time is curiously evocative.

The impression which emerges is of people fighting against the coldness and superficiality of their lives, seeking humanity and emotional contact amongst the torpor, their discussions fluctuating between the trivial, the profound and the incongruous. This leads to awkwardness, people struggling to be natural, relaxed or expressive. Communication, or genuine communication, is difficult.

Throughout, the writer/director appears to be essaying a commentary on post-war Europe.  The adults of that time are still affected by their experiences, and the legacy of, World War Two. Some of the routines and regimentation of the war, and the post-war epoch, are still evident.

Some of the unreality experienced by creative people is perhaps explored here. Anna struggles to express herself in everyday discourse, so maybe she leaves things to her films;easier that way.

The cinematography and backdrops are in accord with the general tone. Darkness, cold and overcast weather predominate, and they complement the illustrations of the grind and occasional futility of life, the feeling of being powerless and on a treadmill.

Viewing this picture provoked ruminations in me about how much has really changed since the late 1970s. I have a feeling, or more specifically a hope, that things might have changed in another forty years from now, but I fear that even then this work will have a heavy contemporary pertinence.

The dialogue sometimes hints that work blocks out, or assuages, some of our dissatisfaction or disillusionment, at least for a while.  One might enquire what sort of life that is, or is that what life is actually supposed to be, all along?

We are all searching for something, usually fruitlessly.  The sense of transience may persuade some that life is a series of moments, and that we must extract the maximum possible from those moments.

I wouldn't necessarily describe this as a life-affirming film, but it is one which powerfully illustrates forces and factors which we constantly need to be aware of, as they have the potential to damage us, or define us.

Sonnenallee - 1999 film

I recently watched Sonnenallee, a 1999 German comedy film, directed by Leander Haussman.

This is a movie which I had been wanting to see for some little time, and I was glad that I did.  The work tells the story, set in the late 1970s, of a group of people living in East Berlin, very close to the East/West border. Indeed, the street on which they reside is "bisected" by the Berlin Wall itself. Some have friends or relatives living in the West.

The younger people are obsessed with "forbidden" Western rock and pop music.  One of the characters devotes much of his time endeavouring to obtain, by "unofficial" means, a copy of the Rolling Stones' Exile On Main St. album.

The main character, Micha, is preoccupied with his efforts to win the heart of the beautiful Miriam. Alexander Scheer excels in the role of Micha, and it is his performance which helps make Sonnenallee so endearing and entertaining.

As I watched the picture I found myself trying to work out which parts of the script were satirical and which were intended literally. The writers were undoubtedly poking fun at some of the GDR's shortcomings and absurdities, but I also gained the impression that they were seeking to get across the notion that the state had its plus points.  They may have been hoping to go beyond stereotypical portrayals, and in places could actually have been satirizing the West's often simplistic depictions of East German society.

There are some great "set piece" scenes in the film, some revolving around music, others looking at peculiar or noteworthy aspects of life in the GDR.  I enjoyed the parts which examined the issue of the smuggling of contraband from West to East.

Quite apart from the historical and political sub-texts, this is simply a very engaging and enjoyable film. I am admittedly highly receptive to the subject matter here, but I found this much funnier than most Western films of its type.

We'll Live Till Monday - 1968 film

We'll Live Till Monday, directed by Stanislav Rostotsky, is a 1968 Soviet film.  Set in a Moscow school, it examines the relationships and tensions between staff and students in said establishment.

This is another one of those movies which just had to be produced in black-and-white, as the monochrome makes for a certain ascetic quality, as well as offering scope for some effective imagery and symbolism.

The central character in this drama is the history teacher Melnikov. He appears sour, careworn, abrupt and something of an outsider with his colleagues.

A notable feature of this film for me is the irreverence of some of the main players and their dialogue. It is good that we have the chance to see these films. They show a side of the USSR which some people cannot conceive of.  The same dynamics, concerns and conflicts existed in Soviet institutions as they did in their Western equivalents.  It may be that the school was intended as a microcosm of tensions and upheavals in wider Soviet society.  People were striving for means of self-expression and autonomy, testing the boundaries perhaps.

It also occurred to me that the school portrayed here was less rigid and regimented than my own alma mater in England....

Throughout there are subtle commentaries and observations concerning Soviet educational and cultural matters, often delivered with some sarcasm or cynicism.

I liked the sets and the bleak-ish sense of realism in this picture, and in general there is a sense of refinement and elegance which truly appealed to me. No big portentous themes, just an intelligent and endearing piece of film-making, containing fine acting from many of those involved.

Perhaps the most intriguing quote from the film - "Happiness is to be understood"....

The Enigma Of Kaspar Hauser - 1974 film

One of the most affecting films which I have seen recently was The Enigma Of Kaspar Hauser, written and directed by Werner Herzog, and released in 1974.

Based on real events, and set in the 19th century, the movie follows the experiences of Kaspar, who had spent the first seventeen years of his existence imprisoned in a cell, with little or no contact with society or other people. One day he is released from this captivity by a mysterious man dressed in black who had apparently fed him previously.

Initially Kaspar is "abandoned" in a nearby village, and is viewed with curiosity by the locals. Having been cut off from "civilization", he has not been nurtured, or raised on societal norms. He therefore exhibits different thresholds, interpretations and reactions towards things around him.

The spectacle of Kaspar getting used to his new surroundings got me thinking.  Perhaps people don't realise what "natural" is, and overlook the impact of man-made customs and laws. Because Kaspar does not conform to society's conceptions of "civilized" behaviour, it seems that the people decide that he has to be exploited, demeaned and humiliated. Fear and ignorance come into play here, in addition to deference to the status quo and "how things are done".

Kaspar was taught by the villagers largely on their terms.  Later, after being rescued and "adopted" by a professor,  he was allowed to find his own way more, and to express himself.  Unsullied by the strictures of mainstream society, he is not brainwashed and indoctrinated like others, on questions of religion, social status and morality. Also, he refrains from subscribing to conventional wisdom on some academic matters.

Kaspar has not been tutored in the niceties of polite society.  He is not aggressive, but he has developed differently. In seeing his musical inclinations, we perhaps see a hint that some things transcend social mores and hierarchies.

The concluding passages of the film are pleasingly ambiguous, and are open to various interpretations. One idea in my mind was that Kaspar was physically attacked because he was not "developing" or assimilating in the manner hoped for or anticipated, and that the "experiment" was going awry.

I found the autopsy scenes fascinating. The participants were arguably missing the point on the question of "abnormality".  Perhaps it is the others who are strange and abnormal, rather than Kaspar himself?

This film was a very interesting and intriguing watch, posing some fairly profound questions about how our society, and our perceptions of normality, have developed over the centuries.

Ali: Fear Eats The Soul - 1974 film

Increasingly I have been drawn towards European art cinema, and in particular the simpler works with restrained production values, which make the viewer think rather than assaulting the senses with special effects and action sequences.

One such film which I watched recently only reinforced the direction of my movie-viewing habits.  This was Ali:Fear Eats The Soul, a 1974 film written and directed by Rainer Werner Fassbinder.

Set in Munich, the film focuses on the relationship between a 60 year old German woman (Emmi) and a younger Moroccan guest-worker (Ali).  They are subjected to much prejudice and hatred, and Emmi is ostracized by many of those around her, particularly after the pair get married.

The dialogue between the two main characters is very natural and charming, and I found myself rooting for the two main characters (Emmi and Ali), as they are both sympathetic and likeable.

As much as the relationship between Emmi and Ali is endearing and touching to behold, the attitudes of many of the people around them are troubling and disturbing.  I guess that Fassbinder was shining a light on the darker aspects of the German economic miracle, and of West German post-war society generally.

The contrast between the humanity and genuineness of Ali and Emmi, and the rigidity and bigotry of other people is very stark.  The film also explores themes of loneliness, isolation and alienation. The settings are quite austere and bleak, exacerbating these sensations. Interestingly, and disconcertingly, many of the issues brought up by this picture are still resonant today.

In addition to the other merits of the film, the acting is of a high order, and special praise has to go to Brigitte Mira, who plays the role of Emmi.  Fassbinder himself  acts in one of the supporting roles.

There is some fine symbolism in this movie, and Ali and Emmi are often shown alone, with other people either absent or at some distance, as if to emphasise how they are alone, shunned by the rest of the population.

Ali: Fear Eats The Soul I found to be an absorbing and engaging film, the kind of work which really makes people think.

First Spaceship On Venus (1960 film)

Having acquired a pronounced taste for classic Eastern European science fiction movies, I recently watched First Spaceship On Venus, which is an English-language version of a East German/Polish film called The Silent Star (a literal translation of the original title).  The picture is based on a novel written by Stanislaw Lem.

The story begins when it is discovered that a "rock fragment" found in the Gobi Desert is in fact a "flight recorder" from a spaceship which has made contact with Earth.  After it is determined that the spacecraft in question must have originated on Venus, the authorities resolve to launch a mission to that planet to investigate matters further.  Once there, some startling findings are made.

Some portions of the movie have a semi-documentary flavour.  I was impressed by the fast-moving style, which is evident from the outset.  The editing and the vibrant narrative ensured that the attention of this viewer was maintained.

The message, especially in the early stages, is one of international co-operation, of mankind operating in unity to address its challenges and its hopes. I found this aspect of the film to be uplifting rather than preachy or conceited, as it is delivered with such transparency and directness.

Indeed, I was attracted by the broader ambience of the film.  The narrative felt organic and measured, and the cinematography was inventive and sharp. Of course, the special effects lived down to the standards which we expect of science fiction movies from that epoch, but they are by no means the most embarrassing or primitive which I have seen.  The diverse cast of characters on board the Venus-bound spaceship make for some interesting dynamics.

Needless to say, as a film made in Eastern Europe at the height of the Cold War, issues such as peace, nuclear annihilation and so forth assume considerable prominence.  Without giving away the plot, it seemed to me that to some extent, Venus was being held up as an example of what could occur on Earth if we do not recognise our folly.

In fairness, I was expecting more of a moralistic tone than was actually the case. The usual science fiction ruminations about the misuse of science and knowledge receive an airing, but in comparatively low-key fashion.

The one thing which surprised me was the ending, which felt vaguely lacklustre, although the part where the surviving crew members give their assessment to the assembled well-wishers is quite moving and dramatic.

So, in conclusion an intriguing and well made film, which moves along at an agreeable pace, poses some valid philosophical points unobtrusively, and does not outstay its welcome.

M (1931 film)

Just recently I saw a mention of Fritz Lang's 1931 film M, on social media.  Having been transfixed and enthralled by the same director's epic Metropolis, I resolved to watch M.

The story is set in Berlin, and centres on the hunt for a serial killer who is abducting and murdering children. At some point members of the city's criminal underworld decide to launch their own hunt for the killer, although the purity of their motives is open to question.  Peter Lorre stars as the main suspect, Beckert.

From its beginning, this film displays a great inventiveness, grittiness and attention to detail, with much intriguing imagery and symbolism.  The opening scene, in which some children are singing a "chant" about the murder of children, is rather chilling and powerfully but subtly presented. There can't have been too many films tackling such dark and challenging subject matter in the early 1930s.

Peter Lorre is never less than compelling in the role of Beckert, and his "monologue" towards the end of the movie is both gripping and harrowing.

M has some interesting sub-texts, among which are society's attitudes towards children, the rule of law and the decencies of civilization. I interpreted one of the film's messages as being that some people are ambivalent about even such terrible crimes, and more worried about how their own private interests might be affected, whilst others exhibit an unpleasant ferocity and hysteria, shedding their powers of reason.

It is fascinating to note that even in 1931 it is posited that criminal cases have become media events, although back then of course the main medium was the newspaper.  The paranoia and distrust engendered by the murders is cleverly portrayed, accentuated by the generally dark tone and the sets.

One thing which occurred to me whilst watching this picture was a slight parallel with Erich Kastner's Emil and The Detectives. In that novel a group of youngsters try to solve a crime themselves. Here, the criminal elements do a similar thing, assisted by various locals, including beggars. Whether the similarity is significant I genuinely have no idea, but the two stories do appear to have been written around the same time.

I found M to be a highly absorbing film, cleverly conceived and asking some unsettling questions about modern society and human nature. Apparently Lang regarded this as his favourite among his own films, and that in itself is high praise indeed.

Shadow Of A Doubt (1943 film)

In one of those moments inspired by a transient piece of social media information, I decided to give a watch to Shadow Of A Doubt, Alfred Hitchcock's 1943 thriller/film noir, which stars Teresa Wright and Joseph Cotten.

The plot centres on a visit by Oakley (Joseph Cotten) to the family of his sister, a family which includes his niece, the young Charlotte (Teresa Wright), who rather idolizes her uncle. It soon emerges, however, that Oakley is harbouring some very dark secrets.

One of the first things which I noticed about this picture was the meticulousness of the narrative, and the care taken to build and develop the suspense. Quite apart from this, the characterizations, including the Newton household, and even the relatively minor players, ensure that this film holds the interest, almost independently of the central direction of the story line.

Some elements which seem destined to be pivotal to the story are relatively peripheral, whilst those who look like classic red herrings end up being influential to how things turn out.  Part of the appeal and the energy of Shadow Of A Doubt, as with other Hitchcock works, is the masterly way in which we are kept guessing and wondering. Clearly the viewer knows that something is likely to be amiss, and the portentous atmosphere early on in the film contributes to this mindset.

Joseph Cotten is excellent as the suave, but manipulative and cynical Oakley.  Soon after his arrival at the Newton residence he is affable, and the sudden arrival of his sinister side, and the dissolving of the earlier jollity and levity, is disconcerting but absorbing to behold. Teresa Wright is a delight as Charlotte, who has to cope with many of her illusions being shattered.

In general, the movie has a wonderfully "organic" quality which it shares with many of the classic black and white films of that period. The period fashions and stylings are also highly appealing. My one gripe is the background music, which occasionally intrudes unnecessarily, but I guess this was a trait common to many pictures of those days.

Shadow Of A Doubt is a movie which demands very close attention, as it is easy to miss snippets of dialogue, or "clues", which will enhance one's understanding of the story.  It is a highly enjoyable and rewarding film to see.  The ending is also quite something!

Zerograd (1988 film)

Zerograd (also known as Gorod Zero) is a 1988 Soviet film, directed by Karen Shakhnazarov and starring Leonid Filatov.

I stumbled across this movie whilst searching for more Soviet science fiction, and I am glad that I watched it, as it had a distinct, but intangible, effect on me.

The story revolves around an engineer (played by Filatov) who journeys from Moscow to a small town on business. Once there, he is confronted by a series of strange events, many of which take place after he witnesses a suicide.

Zerograd has a surreal and disorientating flavour to it, but it is also quite absorbing. The fact that it was made in 1988 in the Soviet Union will mean that people (including myself) will perhaps look for messages which are not really there.  In fact, the beauty of this picture is that it does not make simplistic or direct social observations, and it works on more than one level.

There is a scene in a museum which is perhaps central to an attempt at understanding this film, and this portion of the film is both philosophically fascinating and technically admirable, as well as being amusing.  Also, there is at one point a monologue by the town prosecutor, and this is also perhaps key to ascertaining what the writers were getting at.

A word of praise too for the performance of Leonid Filatov in the role of Varakin, the engineer.  He endearingly conveys a mixture of confusion, impatience, ennui and bewilderment.

Overall, I found Zerograd to be a powerful, fascinating and absorbing film.  It is one of those films which will probably continue to pose questions and tax the viewer's imagination on repeated viewings;quite a rare feat for any film, I would say.  One just has to watch the picture and draw one's own conclusions.

World On A Wire - 1973 movie

World On A Wire (German: Welt am Draht) is a 1973 German science-fiction movie, directed by Rainer Werner Fassbinder, and based on a novel by Daniel F. Galouye.  I recently watched this film, and found it both interesting and thoughtful.

The story revolves around a research institute, which houses a supercomputer.  The computer generates an "artificial world", a kind of electronically simulated environment. The chief scientist dies in mysterious circumstances, and there follows a series of unusual events and intrigues surrounding his successor.

One of the first things which I noticed about this picture is its pronounced "Seventies" aesthetic, in terms of stylings and decor. Personally I find such things very appealing, especially the austere and minimalist architecture, furnishings and so forth. There is also adroit and impressive use of mirrors in several scenes.

In all honesty, the general narrative is not of striking originality, but the minutiae are thought-provoking and clever. The movie explores the standard, well-worn science fiction themes concerning the uses (or misuses) of technology and science, and also the nature of reality and perception. Unlike some films of its ilk, it does not moralize with undue vehemence, but it does pose questions about whether scientific research and progress should fulfill a socially beneficial and benevolent function, and it examines the thorny issues of the conflicts between scientists and bureaucrats/politicians, the extent to which the boffins should be controlled and supervised by the "civilians", and the dangers of technology being subverted by commercial or private interests.

There is quite an ascetic flavour to the film overall, with a mild sense of disorientation heightened by music and sound affects, which are sometimes incongruous in nature.

Without giving away too much, as the movie progresses we get an impression of the blurred lines between "reality" and the simulated world. Elements of the plot I found rather ambiguous, and the latter stages of the work are confusing, but they do serve to exercise and stimulate the grey matter.

An interesting film.

Bohemian Rhapsody (film)

I thought it was about time that I voiced my thoughts on Bohemian Rhapsody, the Freddie Mercury/Queen biopic.  I first saw the movie when it was released here in the cinemas in England in late 2018, and recently viewed it again on DVD.

The first thing to say is that Rami Malek delivers an impressive and endearing performance in the role of Freddie Mercury. He captures, I think, some of the complexities and contradictions in Freddie's personality. I have heard it suggested that such a performance is almost wasted on such a film, and I can see the merits in this argument.

I would also contend that the film is very well made from a technical point of view, with a clearly substantial budget, and the visuals are very appealing and well constructed.  My own personal appraisal of the film overall is that it didn't really grab me emotionally, even with my affection for, and familiarity with, the subject matter.

I won't dwell too much on the lack of absolute historical accuracy in the movie, as this is a given with the majority of biopics.  Over the years I have learned that it is difficult to comfortably watch biopics about subjects on which one is knowledgeable, as one will instantly start picking holes in the accuracy or otherwise of the piece.  Just try to enjoy it for what it is. The picture was not produced for the benefit of Queen "anoraks" such as myself, but for the wider public.

The actors playing the other band members do a fine job.  The guy playing Brian May got the demeanour and many of the mannerisms spot-on, although I was disappointed that "Roger Taylor"'s voice and accent were not closer to the "genuine article".

I thought that Lucy Boynton was very good as Mary Austin, adding some gravitas, and the Freddie/Mary sequences generally form the backbone of the movie for me, tracing the changes and turning-points in Freddie's life.   The scenes exploring the singer's background and family also fulfill this function to some extent.

Some of the film is quite moving and sad, but there are also some good comedic touches, and amusing dialogue along the way.  Part of the fun of watching the film should be to spot Mike Myers, which I failed to do straight away when I first saw it.

My own personal favourite scenes are those which chronicle the recording of "A Night At The Opera". These sections are beautifully done, very pleasant to the eye, and both amusing and in places poignant.

The concert sequences are what we have come to expect from such movies, and although I did not find them particularly convincing, they are not the reason why I watched the film. I was much more interested in the general narrative and the studies and development of characters.

I found the second half of the movie fascinating in some ways, as the timespan which it covers has been for me something of a "lost period" in the Queen story.  Having reached some kind of peak of commercial success, problems began to emerge in the form of personal and artistic differences. How accurate a reflection of this era is presented in the movie is a matter of opinion, but I noted the dark tone of much of this section of the work, in contrast to the more bright and sprightly ambience of other areas of the film.  To be honest, I was mildly surprised that this part of the story was covered with such candour.

People may think that Rami Malek occasionally goes "over the top", but it is very difficult to portray accurately and convincingly such a unique and charismatic person.  It is difficult to imagine any other actor managing the task as well as Malek does here.  I think he beautifully evokes some of the unreality and loneliness of fame and fortune.

So for me Bohemian Rhapsody the movie is by no means a masterpiece, but it is entertaining and slickly produced, with a snappy and organic flavour. It just lacks that intangible quality and dynamism which truly great cinema possesses, that which engages the watcher on a higher plane.

Born to Boogie (1972 film)

I recently watched the 1972 film Born to Boogie, which is essentially a concert movie documenting a performance that year by Marc Bolan and T.Rex, with some added "extras".  The film also stars Ringo Starr and Elton John. Ringo also produced and directed the picture.

The movie was made at the height of T.Rex's fame and commercial success, and watching it prompted some random thoughts from me about Marc Bolan and about music generally.

Concert footage is interspersed with various vignettes and sequences. Born to Boogie does capture some of the dynamism,charisma and self-assurance which Bolan exuded at his peak, as well his own peculiar brand of showmanship. Again, one is reminded of the idiosyncratic appeal of the T.Rex sound, even in a "live" setting.  The rhythmic underpinnings, Bolan's chunky guitar-playing, and the anthemic and infectious flavour of the songs themselves.

Although the concert sections include the obligatory images of audience hysteria, I find the bits filmed at the concert a little tame.  The stage-sets and presentation seem rather sparse and under-cooked. It was only later I suppose that rock concerts became prolonged, slickly stage-managed multimedia extravaganzas.

The scenes inserted in among the concert footage are strange, and even self-indulgent. One or two of them remind one of The Beatles' Magical Mystery Tour, unsurprisingly perhaps, given the presence of one Ringo Starr. Some of these sequences were dated, even by 1972.  Personally, I would have preferred more conventional behind-the-scenes material, including interviews, in the vein of Martin Scorsese's The Last Waltz. In fairness, there is some fun film of Marc jamming in the studio with Ringo and Elton John, but this part is quite brief.

One or two people have pointed to Ringo Starr's involvement as a symbolic "passing of the torch" to the new leader of British pop. Ironically, within a year of the film's release Bolan and T.Rex had entered a decline in their commercial fortunes.

Bolan did not exhibit the same capacity as some of his contemporaries, notably David Bowie, to grow and adapt artistically once success, fame and fortune had been attained. It seems that Bolan just wanted to be famous (and rich), and he lost his way soon after this stage was reached.  Perhaps the pretentiousness of parts of this film should have served as a warning that complacency and a certain smugness were setting in?

So, this movie is emphatically far from a masterpiece, and it left me expecting more, and strangely enough, wanting more. It does, though, act as an interesting snapshot of the glam-rock period.