Change Your Image
jago_turner
Reviews
Titanic (1997)
Probably the worst film ever made
Titanic sweeps aside every great work of the cinema blinding us all with its amazing incompetence.
The script for this film is dry dead wood floating around an iceberg.
The pace is so slow that there is no escaping the sheer horror of this parade of stereotypes and cliches. Not a line works. History is ignored and rewritten according to the director's egocentric vision. This is a dreadful film. Dreadful beyond belief.
That it is also one of the most successful in the history of the cinema says something very sour to me about human intelligence. I only hope and pray that the reason for its success can be laid at the heel of Leo-mania. I would hate to think that there are people who liked the film for itself.
Braveheart (1995)
Idiotic, two dimensional, anti historic claptrap
For a Scotsman watching this film there can only be the sense of some of the most vital legends of a country being raped and pillaged by Hollywood. Disgusting in its sentimental Mad Maxisation of a historical character of great mythic importance to another nation this just goes to show how the financial weight of Hollywood has more influence over popular opinion than the entire sweep of history. Idiotic beyond belief. Two dimensionally racist in its depiction of both Scots and English. Disregarding any truth of what is known about WIlliam Wallace. Shame on everyone who helped put it together.
The Rebel (1961)
Surely the greatest movie ever made
Of course I am aware that huge numbers of people will see this movie as mildly diverting, an interesting off shoot of a TV character, or a strained attempt to translate a mythic television talent to a medium he wasn't suited to. I know some will find the plat slight. Some may enjoy it but simply feel it isn't all that impressive. Well, this is fine. But I believe that The Rebel is quite simply the finest movie ever made, and I've seen a lot of movies.
What is so great about it ? The colours. The lush score moving from the comic to the romantic with ease. The array of great comic performances. The script which ranges from the profoundly comic to the comically profound.
The struggle of the individual to express his individuality in a world that prefers conformity has been the subject of countless numbers of films. The Rebel is the only film I can think of to mock this tradition while also celebrating it. The character of Hancock drifts between lies and truth while carving out a reputation for himself among the Parisian avant garde. His never reflects on his complete lack of noticeable talent and inability to dedicate himself to the craft but instead creates something of a stir with his infantilism. His bluster is only ever a whisker away from the despair he shows on his opening train journey.
Comedies are often treated as somehow inferior to dramas. It's much more important to treat human suffering with a straight face than take life for the comedy it undoubtably is. Hancock's suffering may not on the face of it seem important or noble, but it is the despair of the insignificant man who wants to be outside of the machine, wants to be important and creative. But despite dealing with this theme the comedy never drifts into pathos. Hancock covers the sadnesses with a jaunty self involvement in which he can place himself securely among the great artists whose every brush stroke is torn from their body.
The satire on modern art may seem a bit obvious but it is never played on for serious effect.
The sideline characters are all magnificent from John Le Mesurier as Hancock's completely unimaginative boss, through Irene Handl on top form as Mrs Cravat who regards all Hancock's efforts as a load of miscellaneous rubbish, to Dennis Price's Jim Smith, eccentric French millionaire.
"Jim Smith ?"
"Oh. You're surprised. I always feel an English name sounds so much more mysterious."
"Oh yes. I knew a Bert Higgins and a Harry Trubshaw once. They were dead mysterious they were."
But it's not just the plotting, the comedy, the acting, and the dialogue that strike me as perfection. The design of the movie. The contrasting of Parisian styles with the bowler hat and umbrellas of Waterloo Bridge. The interior of Paul Ashby's room. The paintings themselves. All these elements compound the sense of joy that watching this film brings.
And for those who watch this film and think that I am talking nonsense. All I can do is to re-iterate Hancock's cry to the elite of the art scene "You're all raving mad. None of you know what you're looking at. You wait til I'm dead. You'll see I was right."