The first thing you need to know about Revenge: A Love Story is that it’s extremely spoiler-prone. So if you like violent Hong Kong thrillers and plan on seeing this, don’t read a synopsis, don’t look it up on IMDb. If anyone begins to mention the plot, cover your ears and repeat “La la la la la” until they go away; you MUST go in with as little pre-knowledge as possible. You’ll need the stomach for some strong violence (around the levels of Drive and Seven), and brace for disappointment as director/co-screenwriter Ching-po Wong can’t hold the story together all the way to the end, but know that for the first half he plays a blinder.
I was disappointed to have missed Martha Marcy May Marlene in Cannes this year, so it was one of the first films I circled on my BIFF program. So glad I did: after Olivia Colman’s superb performance in Tyrannosaur, here’s another co...
Yesterday I was finally able to indulge a pleasure I’d been anticipating since the advent of blu-ray: revisiting Leon* in beautiful, cornea-frying hi-def. I was instantly rewarded - this was the first time I had been able to discern the movie’s complete title (that tiny writing in the bottom right hand corner of the title screen reads “Visa No. 82525”. Who knew? Well, ok, some of you, and yes, my vision ain’t great). Anyway, to paraphrase Ferris Bueller, if you have the means, I highly recommend picking it up (especially the utterly superior director’s cut).
But for all the gorgeous cinematography, the elegantly simple screenplay and pitch-perfect performances, I have to admit that the biggest reason I love Besson’s film is, quite simply, that I dig marksmen. Not even necessarily assassins – I just really admire a crack shot. It got me thinking for some time – long enough to compile a Rob Gordon list of my all-time, top five favourite movi...
Or, Coco Chanel Et La Maison De Néon Bleu. AKA, Journeys Of A Fashion Remedial To Style Mecca.
Make no mistake, I’m a bit of a fashion lug. I am the sort of guy who enjoys simple clothing, and has ‘favourite’ articles thereof, which I will happily wear until the repairs are worn out. My prize red shirt, for example, is about to celebrate its ninth birthday. So it was something of a suprise to discover that I was to be sent to a set visit for Coco Before Chanel, the biopic of legendary fashion designer Coco Chanel. My knowledge of the woman I would discover to be the world’s most important couturier of the twentieth century was limited to what I had hastily read on Wikipedia, but the prospects were immensely improved after learning that my number two ‘it list’ girl Audrey Tautou would be playing the lead.
So I knew Chanel was the inventor of the ‘little black dress’, had a thing for simple black & white (which gave rise to her r...
Only three nights in, and this year’s festival experience seems to me to have blurred into some self-induced, Apocalypse Now-style odyssey. Where did I start going wrong? The jet lag, the constant liver-bashing, the parties? Costcutter baked goods at 4am? All of the above, I guess. Still, the quality of the films are pulling me through. As promised, I was recently at the press screening for Le Donk & Scorz-Ayz-Ee. Given the pre-existing praise of Nev & Damo, I’ll not waffle on anymore here: suffice to say that I really dug it. A completely unexpected turn from all involved, it’s hilarious for nearly all of its 71 minutes, with Paddy Considine finally getting a chance to unleash his little known, yet mile-wide comedic streak. Le Donk – the long-gestating character, and background star of many a Shane Meadows short – is the actor’s Partridge or Brent. Meadows, meanwhile, gives the five days of improvisation a genuinely moving (yet not overdone) st...
Apologies for not having bashed all this out sooner, but there just aren’t enough hours in the day while videblogisoding at a festival. Second priority is of course actually getting to see a least a few films, an activity which this year that proved rather time-hungry, with none of my choices coming in under 2 hours (or at least it felt that way). But delays or no, I feel compelled to share my experiences, not least because I promised I would after successfully pleading my case for a better grade of press pass, but also because I had a remarkably lucky streak: not a single dud film!
First was Taking Woodstock, which I dug, man. As you’d expect from team Shamus/Lee, it’s a subtle, gentle-spirited film, and it puzzles me as to why its reception was so muted. Perhaps Cannes isn’t the right place for a simple, pleasant film – audiences at this festival are hungry for something to feel (and write about) in any direction – Lars von Trier provided the outrage wit...
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