Perhaps when you saw the trailer for the BBC's new series Sherlock you thought, ah, Flick likes Sherlock Holmes, she'll like this. Or maybe you thought, Robert Downey Jr isn't in it, she'll hate this. Or maybe you didn't care. Well, if you'd seen that it was created by Steven Moffat, you'd know that I would love it.
The modern setting is done nicely, with lots of smart updates and even a rationalisation as to how someone could possibly afford to live on Baker St. So John Watson is still back injured from Afghanistan but his alcoholic sibling is a sister, not a brother. Sherlock Holmes doesn't smoke a pipe but he uses nicotine patches. We've yet to see whether he'll wear a deerstalker because all the stories so far have taken place in the city and no gentleman wears a deerstalker anywhere except the country.
There are even lots of entertaining quotes to entertain the canon fans.("Three patch problem"? I see what you did there.)
The cast is very good, and I love Benedict Cumberbatch as Holmes (doesn't Moffat have a habit of casting strange, alien-faced dudes?), chaotic under a calm exterior. I grew to like Martin Freeman more and more over the three weeks, and I even think I may be over the H2G2 film now. The Lestrade is very nice, and Mark Gatiss as Mycroft is fantastic, I'm so very glad they included him. I admit I was completely taken in by the ruse in the first episode where you're supposed to think he's a villain. I don't mind, it makes it more fun.
Overall, the mysteries are not the best. Even if you're unfamiliar with the sources, I defy you not to get the clues.
"Who could be the killer??"
"I don't know but let's linger on this shot of a taxi."
I can live with slightly lacklustre mysteries though, because I don't watch detective shows for the plot. Oh, it makes a stimulating background, but I'm really interested in the characters, which is why cop shows - or twists on the genre like House - live and die by their characterisation. So as long as Sherlock and John (which, by the way, feels very informal to write) banter and clash and are mistaken for a couple it's all good.
One of the very best things about the series, though, is the mise en scene. What a pretty, pretty show. The lighting! The camera moves! The editing! The editing is very showy, and I love it. They use wipes! And blurs! And it works! The graphics are impressive too, whether it's showing what people are looking at on their phones or how Sherlock analyses a situation. I even love the font they use.
The cliffhanger ending of episode three is delightfully evil and I'm very glad they'll be commissioning more.
In slightly less up to date news, it's as good a time as any to write about a slightly older version of Sherlock Holmes, Granada's 1980s series starring Jeremy Brett and David Burke then Edward Hardwicke.
Granada in the 80s seemed to have an uncanny knack for casting literary characters. Their adaptation of the Jeeves and Wooster books was perfectly cast with Hugh Laurie and Stephen Fry, and as for Holmes… I have a workable theory that Jeremy Brett was grown in a lab for specifically this purpose, his looks and mannerisms are so startlingly exact.
They're faithful adaptations but there are still occasional jokes worked in which you'd only spot with very esoteric knowledge. Meg told me she had to watch an episode in class with the kind of expression which indicated that this was a bad memory, but I'm enjoying them immensely.
Monday, 16 August 2010
Inception (2010)
A warning from the get go: I cannot talk about this film without spoiling it to bits, so if you haven't seen it, look away now. Yes, even if you don't plan on seeing it, I will force you to because you need to see this film.
I've loved Christopher Nolan for years now, since I first saw Memento, his second film. I've lost count of the number of times I've watched it and his others since. He is a genius and I have a massive platonic love for him. I don't need to wait to see a trailer or even for an announcement of any kind to be excited for a film of his, I'm automatically looking forward to his next film, the one after that and so on until he's raptured back from where he came from. (Or until the mothership comes back for him, whichever theory proves correct.) Going to see his films is as close to church as I'll get.
Why this devotion? Plainly, he's my role model. He makes intelligent, meaningful films which are simultaneously exciting as hell and which make millions.
Inception is no exception. It features a very attractive cast (Leonardo diCaprio, Ellen Page, Joseph Gordon Lovett, Tom Hardy, Ken Watanabe, Marion Cottiard, Cillian Murphy), brain melting special effects (screw you Avatar) and as many car chases/crashes/explosions as you could possibly want. It even has a fight sequence in a rotoscope, which is pretty much the most amazing thing ever.
But as well as that, there's the cleverness. It creates a world, and fills it with interesting characters and philosophical questions. Not only the main character develops. While Dom Cobb is the protagonist, and his decision to accept reality is the arc of the story, the supporting characters have their own trajectories. Arthur learns to use his imagination, Ariadne grows up, and Robert Fischer becomes his own man.
I know the plot isn't perfect, because I've seen this film four times now and that's sufficient to spot a couple of plot niggles, but I absolutely don't care because compared to the magnificence of the whole, it's immaterial. Why did they need a week on the first level? Better safe than sorry, right?
The ending is my favourite part. On first viewing, by that point I felt wrung out already (I was crying, big surprise, it was the paper fan which did me in), and then, the last shot-! My heart skipped a beat. Several, in fact. Thinking about it now, my stomach has decided to take up residence in feet. It's the perfect ending, and pretentious as it is, I can only liken it to the piece of Mozart which ends on an imperfect cadence (and which I have been wracking my brain trying to remember the name of, no luck yet). It ratchets you up to the most extreme point and then leaves you there. I had to sit through the titles just to get my breath back and even then I was wobbly on my legs, and things felt artificial for a while.
It's worth mentioning that Hans Zimmer is brilliant, and I want him to write the soundtrack to my life. I am, in fact, listening to the Inception soundtrack right now even though it's deeply unhealthy. Foghorn blares will never be the same again.
Lastly:
I've loved Christopher Nolan for years now, since I first saw Memento, his second film. I've lost count of the number of times I've watched it and his others since. He is a genius and I have a massive platonic love for him. I don't need to wait to see a trailer or even for an announcement of any kind to be excited for a film of his, I'm automatically looking forward to his next film, the one after that and so on until he's raptured back from where he came from. (Or until the mothership comes back for him, whichever theory proves correct.) Going to see his films is as close to church as I'll get.
Why this devotion? Plainly, he's my role model. He makes intelligent, meaningful films which are simultaneously exciting as hell and which make millions.
Inception is no exception. It features a very attractive cast (Leonardo diCaprio, Ellen Page, Joseph Gordon Lovett, Tom Hardy, Ken Watanabe, Marion Cottiard, Cillian Murphy), brain melting special effects (screw you Avatar) and as many car chases/crashes/explosions as you could possibly want. It even has a fight sequence in a rotoscope, which is pretty much the most amazing thing ever.
But as well as that, there's the cleverness. It creates a world, and fills it with interesting characters and philosophical questions. Not only the main character develops. While Dom Cobb is the protagonist, and his decision to accept reality is the arc of the story, the supporting characters have their own trajectories. Arthur learns to use his imagination, Ariadne grows up, and Robert Fischer becomes his own man.
I know the plot isn't perfect, because I've seen this film four times now and that's sufficient to spot a couple of plot niggles, but I absolutely don't care because compared to the magnificence of the whole, it's immaterial. Why did they need a week on the first level? Better safe than sorry, right?
The ending is my favourite part. On first viewing, by that point I felt wrung out already (I was crying, big surprise, it was the paper fan which did me in), and then, the last shot-! My heart skipped a beat. Several, in fact. Thinking about it now, my stomach has decided to take up residence in feet. It's the perfect ending, and pretentious as it is, I can only liken it to the piece of Mozart which ends on an imperfect cadence (and which I have been wracking my brain trying to remember the name of, no luck yet). It ratchets you up to the most extreme point and then leaves you there. I had to sit through the titles just to get my breath back and even then I was wobbly on my legs, and things felt artificial for a while.
It's worth mentioning that Hans Zimmer is brilliant, and I want him to write the soundtrack to my life. I am, in fact, listening to the Inception soundtrack right now even though it's deeply unhealthy. Foghorn blares will never be the same again.
Lastly:
Fringe
When I was in Edinburgh for the Fringe, I saw more people from the RSAMD than I saw actual Edinburgh natives. I also bumped into people from various youth theatres I've been in, who were there to perform/tech/spectate depending on their age and inclinations.
Aside from the street performers, who get a little repetitious after a few years, we (myself, Maisie-from-TPA and an old highschool friend of the both of us) went to see a comedian called Bo Burnham, who started out as a Youtube phenomenon, writing funny songs and performing them on his Yamaha keyboard. I first heard of him in 2008, and when we (highschool friends and I) heard he was coming to Scotland we booked our tickets.
Live, he was slightly disappointing. The new material was good, but we wanted some of the classics too (where was "3.14 apple pie"??) and his stage demeanor was lacking. He seemed unhappy to be there. If that's true then he should get out of it and if it's an act then he should change it, because a paying audience doesn't like to feel that a performance is a massive trial for the object of their entertainment.
By contrast, the show we went to the next day (after an exciting trip into Edinburgh nightlife) featured a charismatic performer who, despite doing four shows a day, seemed to love it. His name is Baba Brinkman and I can't recommend his shows too highly. I've been a fan since I saw him in the secular Christmas show on the BBC in December doing The Rap Guide To Evolution. This year his new act is The Rap Guide To Human Nature, an exploration of the theory of evolutionary psychology through the medium of hiphop.
If that sounds grotesquely "down with the kids" then fear not. It's excellent hiphop in it's own right, with good beats and fantastic verbal inventiveness, and funny to boot. He makes fun of himself, his audience, liberals, conservatives, fundamentalists, anything not nailed down. And with all of this, he also discusses complex theories. He can also boast that his is the only peer reviewed comedy show at the Fringe, since he had a panel of scientists analyse and comment upon the script.
Anyway, Maisie and Ieft the show so thrilled we agreed to stay a little longer and go to the first of his evening shows, Rapconteur in Cabaret Voltaire, the seediest looking bar I think I've ever been in. Just, who designed that? Who thought one way glass for bathroom stalls was a cool idea?
Nevermind though, because the show was great. This one adapted some historic epics into rap form, including Gilgamesh, Beowulf and the Merchant's Tale from Chaucer's Canterbury Tales.
It was utterly engaging. Quick, funny, clever. The hour flew by.
So, if you want to go see something at the Fringe, it would be a very wise move to go for Baba Brinkman.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod touch
Aside from the street performers, who get a little repetitious after a few years, we (myself, Maisie-from-TPA and an old highschool friend of the both of us) went to see a comedian called Bo Burnham, who started out as a Youtube phenomenon, writing funny songs and performing them on his Yamaha keyboard. I first heard of him in 2008, and when we (highschool friends and I) heard he was coming to Scotland we booked our tickets.
Live, he was slightly disappointing. The new material was good, but we wanted some of the classics too (where was "3.14 apple pie"??) and his stage demeanor was lacking. He seemed unhappy to be there. If that's true then he should get out of it and if it's an act then he should change it, because a paying audience doesn't like to feel that a performance is a massive trial for the object of their entertainment.
By contrast, the show we went to the next day (after an exciting trip into Edinburgh nightlife) featured a charismatic performer who, despite doing four shows a day, seemed to love it. His name is Baba Brinkman and I can't recommend his shows too highly. I've been a fan since I saw him in the secular Christmas show on the BBC in December doing The Rap Guide To Evolution. This year his new act is The Rap Guide To Human Nature, an exploration of the theory of evolutionary psychology through the medium of hiphop.
If that sounds grotesquely "down with the kids" then fear not. It's excellent hiphop in it's own right, with good beats and fantastic verbal inventiveness, and funny to boot. He makes fun of himself, his audience, liberals, conservatives, fundamentalists, anything not nailed down. And with all of this, he also discusses complex theories. He can also boast that his is the only peer reviewed comedy show at the Fringe, since he had a panel of scientists analyse and comment upon the script.
Anyway, Maisie and Ieft the show so thrilled we agreed to stay a little longer and go to the first of his evening shows, Rapconteur in Cabaret Voltaire, the seediest looking bar I think I've ever been in. Just, who designed that? Who thought one way glass for bathroom stalls was a cool idea?
Nevermind though, because the show was great. This one adapted some historic epics into rap form, including Gilgamesh, Beowulf and the Merchant's Tale from Chaucer's Canterbury Tales.
It was utterly engaging. Quick, funny, clever. The hour flew by.
So, if you want to go see something at the Fringe, it would be a very wise move to go for Baba Brinkman.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod touch
Big Bang Big Boom
Since I'm holiday blogging, have a cool video:
Be sure to watch til the end, it's worth it for the beautiful narrative structure even if the awesome graphics don't make you want more. And, as fantastic as the painting is, I think the making of this video is the soundtrack. It creates so much atmosphere and meaning.
Be sure to watch til the end, it's worth it for the beautiful narrative structure even if the awesome graphics don't make you want more. And, as fantastic as the painting is, I think the making of this video is the soundtrack. It creates so much atmosphere and meaning.
Friday, 13 August 2010
Summer filming
If you've been in the academy in the last few weeks you've probably seen me haunting the place, often camera in hand, plus a rather… eccentrically coloured mic. I've been filming the dramaworks courses, and very interesting it's been.
Like with most filming, AV is a mixture of long lull periods interspersed with periods of intense activity. I found a good way of filling my long breaks, when I couldn't really go anywhere: I made use of the RSAMD's many pianos and got to learning a very dificult new piece. Bad Romance will have to wait til I've cracked Gymnopedies II, sorry Murray. No. 1 one took six months and I had a teacher, let's see how this goes.
For one thing, I've learnt that while a camera is a distracting force at any time, with children you can multiply that a hundred-fold. With the younger groups I had to field many questions a day about just what I was doing, and what that furry thing on top of my camera was. I also got the unfortunate nickname "camera lady" and it seems to have stuck. Fifteen year olds called me it! I'm only three years older than you! I'm no lady! Next people will call me madam in bars.
I've also put some of the advice David Liddle gave us to good use. Rather than just keeping the camera on all the time, only capture something if it's worthwhile. Makes life in the edit suite (aka: my bedroom) a lot easier.
My lurking skills, too, have come on a lot. I got a compliment from one of the members of the Devising class on my ability to blend in. Not the best thing for a narcissist to hear but I was very happy, since the problem with filming something which isn't a performance is that you can't help but affect the process. The quantum theory of documentaries if you like. In fact, I used some of the skills I learnt back when I acted to not disturb the discussion/rehearsal/whatever.
One final thing: never, ever buy your tapes from Currys. Three for fifteen pounds. Not three packs, three tapes. Ordinary tapes, too, not gold plated and packaged in carbon fibre. It was an emergency and I needed them, but that is extortion, plain and simple.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod touch
Like with most filming, AV is a mixture of long lull periods interspersed with periods of intense activity. I found a good way of filling my long breaks, when I couldn't really go anywhere: I made use of the RSAMD's many pianos and got to learning a very dificult new piece. Bad Romance will have to wait til I've cracked Gymnopedies II, sorry Murray. No. 1 one took six months and I had a teacher, let's see how this goes.
For one thing, I've learnt that while a camera is a distracting force at any time, with children you can multiply that a hundred-fold. With the younger groups I had to field many questions a day about just what I was doing, and what that furry thing on top of my camera was. I also got the unfortunate nickname "camera lady" and it seems to have stuck. Fifteen year olds called me it! I'm only three years older than you! I'm no lady! Next people will call me madam in bars.
I've also put some of the advice David Liddle gave us to good use. Rather than just keeping the camera on all the time, only capture something if it's worthwhile. Makes life in the edit suite (aka: my bedroom) a lot easier.
My lurking skills, too, have come on a lot. I got a compliment from one of the members of the Devising class on my ability to blend in. Not the best thing for a narcissist to hear but I was very happy, since the problem with filming something which isn't a performance is that you can't help but affect the process. The quantum theory of documentaries if you like. In fact, I used some of the skills I learnt back when I acted to not disturb the discussion/rehearsal/whatever.
One final thing: never, ever buy your tapes from Currys. Three for fifteen pounds. Not three packs, three tapes. Ordinary tapes, too, not gold plated and packaged in carbon fibre. It was an emergency and I needed them, but that is extortion, plain and simple.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPod touch
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