Tag Archive: Steven Spielberg


DUNKIRK Try to contain your excitement but it’s almost Oscars night again!

This year, the Academy will doubtless be relieved if the ceremony passes without a hitch and that it makes the headlines for all the right reasons.

After spectacularly goofing up the best film award last year and being under the shadow of the Weinstein-related sex scandals, the spotlights in 2018 will be about as comforting as interrogation lamps.

Under this kind of intense public scrutiny, the stakes are high. Political correctness used to be routinely ridiculed but is now the order of the day and woe betide those who step or speak out of line. Continue reading

BRIDGE OF SPIES directed by Steven Spielberg (USA; 2015)

220px-bridge_of_spies_posterAs a self-confessed movie nerd I can’t get enough of the ironic post-modernism to be found in directors like David Lynch, Wes Anderson and Jim Jarmusch. I identify strongly with the cynical and often surreal gaze they direct towards the modern world.

In my book, The Coen Brothers fit squarely into this category so it comes as something of shock to find Ethan and Joel’s names (alongside British playwright Matt Charman) on the screenwriting credits for Spielberg’s very conventional drama. Apparently, their remit was to add some zip to a story which, with shades of Fargo, is “inspired by real events”.

Lawyer James B. Donovan played by Tom Hanks is the decent, upstanding all American family man appointed to defend the devious Russian spy Rudolf Abel (Mark Rylance) in what is initially conceived as little more than a show trial.

I suspect it is the Coens who came up with the best line in the movie when, in response to Donovan’s comment that Abel never seems to worry, the spy asks “Would it help?” This is funny the first time around, but when he poses the same question on two further occasions, it loses its novelty value. Otherwise, the script is tight and workmanlike although has none of the wisecracks or lively verbal exchanges you come to expect in Coen Brothers movies. Continue reading

THE STORY OF FILM (the book) by Mark Cousins (first published, 2004)

Screen shot 2020-06-16 at 21.57.21After 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.

WAR HORSE LOST IN NO MAN’S LAND

WAR HORSE directed by Steven Spielberg (UK, 2011)

From sunrise over rolling country hills of Devon to sunset in the aftermath of war, there are scenes in Spielberg’s shamelessly sentimental movie that could have come from an advert for English butter.

This isn’t a story of cows but of a young man’s love affair with a miracle horse named Joey.

Albert Narracott is a farmer’s son who witnesses the birth of this “strong, decent and fine animal” , raises it like it was his own son, reluctantly releases it for adoption when war is declared and is reunited when peace arrives four years later.

If the two had married they’d have sired a foal called Emily, named after the young girl who is one of a series of humans besotted by this noble beast. Continue reading

A PLUMBER AT A FLOWER SHOW

Just seen and liked John Carney’s  movie ‘Once’  whose plaudits include Steven Spielberg and Nanni Moretti despite being shot on a shoestring budget of under £100,000 with a working script that ran to just 60 pages.

If this had been a Hollywood production the guy and the girl would have fallen into each others arms at the end  in the middle of a heavy rainstorm or surrounded by a group of applauding strangers.  Instead the relationship between the busking Irishman and the Czech woman remains a brief  platonic encounter.

He plays songs and fixes vacuum cleaners. She likes his music and has a broken vacuum cleaner. A friendship is formed and they make music together. This deliberately uncomplicated story works because it is told with honesty, warmth and wit.

The fact that  Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova won the Oscar for best song (‘Falling Softly’) is the icing on the cake. The award presentation was a genuinely feel good moment, all the more so as Hansard admits he felt like “a plumber at a flower show” in front of all these celebrities.

Watch for yourself and I dare you not to be moved: