When I read the novel Under The Skin by Michel Faber, I found it disturbing and a little distasteful. It’s the story of a woman who fell to earth who lures hitchhikers in a remote part of Scotland to a sticky end. Forget any tales of cute extraterrestrials – this is one alien who does not come in peace. It was all a little too vivid for my taste although I’m tempted to read it again to see if I feel the same way about it now. The main motivation would be that it has now been made into a film which is currently doing the festival circuit – Telluride , Venice and Toronto. The movie gets a bad review in Variety but the critic’s closing complaint about “the thick Scottish brogues rendering large swathes of dialogue incomprehensible” make me suspect that this is not to be taken too seriously. This seems to me equivalent to bitching about the street patois of the black characters from Baltimore in HBO’s ‘The Wire’. One man’s incomprehensibility is another man’s authenticity. I give more credence to Mark Cousins whose magnificent Story of Film (book + TV series) makes him a movie expert whose opinion I respect. He has just written two Tweets which read as follows: “I think it’s years since I’ve seen a film as good as Under the Skin directed by Jonathan glazer. A masterpiece”. “S Johansson + Scotland + hidden cameras + new imagery + death music + tenderness + brutality + sex + Orphee + Glasgow = Under the Skin” Continue reading
Tag Archive: Mark Cousins

In previous posts I have praised Mark Cousins’ epic ‘Story of Film’ – both the book and the Channel 4 TV series.
Cousins has an encyclopedic knowledge of cinema and the gift of articulating his enthusiasm for movies.
This talent is also evident in interviews he conducted for the BBC Scotland between 1999 and 2001 in a series called Scene By Scene.
The idea, which originated at the Edinburgh Film Festival through an interview with Sean Connery, was a simple one. Top directors and actors were shown clips from films they had made or appeared in and talk about the background to them.
Cousins is from Ulster and his Irish accent is often confused for Scots. From comments on various forums, it’s obvious that his speaking voice irritates the hell out of many. Personally, I find the sing-song quality charming but whatever you may think about how he talks, it’s hard to criticise him for the passion and preparation he puts into his work.
Television is so full of shallow chat shows or banal documentaries that tell you nothing, that it’s a pleasure to find someone who doesn’t insult or patronise the audience.
Continue readingTHE STORY OF FILM (the book) by Mark Cousins (first published, 2004)
After reading E.H. Gombrich’s ‘The Story of Art’, I decided this was the best book I was ever likely to read about the history of visual arts.
In his preface, Gombrich wrote that his book was “intended for all who feel in need of some first orientation in a strange and fascinating world”.
Mark Cousins makes no secret of the fact that Gombrich’s definitive work was a model for his story of the art of cinema from the silent era of the 1880s to today’s digital age.
His is an equally comprehensive and triumphant work of scholarship and stamina.
One can only be awestruck, and a little envious, that Cousins has not only seen so many movies but that he has the skill and insight to place each in its context and describe then so succinctly and intelligently.
The easy road to take with a book of this type would be to relate the history as that of American cinema while throwing in a few token movies from other parts of the world to add a little exotic variation.
One of the great things about Cousins’ book, and the 15-hour documentary series for Channel 4 series that followed, is that he does more than just pay lip service to the concept of world cinema.
Hollywood is obviously recognised for its fundamental part in the story he tells but we are shown how innovations in U.S. cinema was mirrored, or many cases anticipated, in countries around the world such as Japan, Russia, France, Italy and Britain.
“Film history has more than one line of narrative”, argues Cousins and he proves this by comparing and contrasting the art form from a truly global perspective.
In so doing, his subject centres more on the visionary directors than on the movie stars. His objective is to celebrate cinema as a means of expression rather than as a fame factory or an exotic business model.
The focus is always on those men and women who asked the question “How can I do this differently?” This is what Steven Spielberg asked himself when he was shooting the memorable opening sequence to Saving Private Ryan and it’s a question the greatest filmmakers have asked themselves throughout the history of cinema.
The book looks at those artists who took risks to challenge existing ways of seeing and in so doing ensure that the language of film is one that is constantly evolving.
Cousins shows how experiments with lighting and editing, or by shooting with different lens or from an unusual angles changed the audience’s perspective and opened up fresh possibilities. He made me realise that I miss many of these details by simply following the plot of the film.
His deconstruction is not done to explain acts of trickery or as an academic exercise, but to show what makes movies work and gives them their power
By adopting an admirably non-elitist standpoint and by writing in plain, jargon-free English, he combines the enthusiasm of a fan with the thrill of discovery. It’s a perspective that means he can convey as much admiration for Laurel & Hardy as for Ozu and Godard.
The subtext is that there are always many ways of seeing the world and true magic happens when a film succeeds in tapping into our dreams or exposing us to our nightmares.
He made me want to re-visit those films I’ve already seen and seek out the many films he mentions which I have yet to see.
At a time when mainstream American movies in particular are rapidly running out of ideas, this book is a timely and impassioned reminder that great cinema , like great literature, should not deaden the brain but inspire us to see the world from other points of view.
E.H. Gombrich set a high benchmark but Mark Cousins manages to reach it. This is the best book about the art of film I have ever read.

Mark Cousins after a few late nights, (Photograph: Gareth Cattermole/Getty Images)
Mark Cousins may look he’s been dragged through a hedge backwards in his publicity photos but he is a gentle soul with a lot of wisdom to impart.
I enjoyed an interview in the Guardian about his new movie that has been premiered at Cannes and can’t wait to see A Story Of Children And Film.
This sounds like it follows in the same vein as the wonderful Story Of Film series he made for Channel 4, ie. lilting voiceover and a refreshingly global perspective on the magic of movies.
He explains how children can be more transparent and truthful than adults : “They are not ashamed of bawling or crying just because they want something – and switching it off and turning at once to laughter. They don’t feel they have to disguise the nakedness of those emotions. It’s not just that we mask and they don’t – they are faster in their feelings, I think.”

In the penultimate episode of Channel 4’s The Story of Film:An Odyssey, Mark Cousins interviewed New Zealand director Jane Campion.
Perhaps not surprisingly, Campion spoke about the need for women to have a more prominent voice in movies but also added: “one of the betrayals of the female is that they want to see themselves through male eyes”.
This struck me as a slightly different slant on the traditional feminist arguments about the dominance of the voyeuristic ‘male gaze’ and suggests that it is not simply a question of women gaining key roles in the production of TV and cinema but also of using such positions to challenge the patriarchal order.
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