Tuesday, July 03, 2007

Tim Robbins as Dave Boyle in Mystic River.

(also known as "the performance which had thr 5th greatest impact on my life.)

This is part of the prelude to my Performance that Changed My Life blogathon that I shall start on Saturday and be keeping open through the weekend. To all those who expressed an interest in participating – brilliant – you’re up. All ya gotta do is write your article (however long/short as you like, about any performance and for any reason that you so choose.) When your article is posted on your blog, just poke me with an e-mal or by replying on the master post, which (with any luck) I shall release at 8.00 am, GMT. I will the update the master post. A huge thanks to everyone participating!

So, Robbins in Mystic River. One of the finest supporting turns of recent years, he brilliantly conveys how someone so tall can feel so small, with his body and facial expressions conveying far more than words ever could, and adds to the urgency of the film. And what about the impact this performance had on my life? Pure and simple, when I saw it in 2003, it got me interested in the Oscars. It was my love and respect for Robbins after viewing Mystic River, that, coupled with recent viewings of Dead Man Walking (which he directed) and The Shawshank Redemption, that got me supporting Timmy. I stayed up all night to watch my Timmy collect his award, and 2004 was indeed the year in which I lost my Oscar virginity. That said, as delirious as I was for Tim that night (by the way, at 6’5”, he’s only 2 inches shorter than another talented cutie), I also left the Academy Awards that Monday morning feeling terribly cold. This can, of course, be attributed to the awards that I didn’t agree with, and, frick, there were a lot of them. Surprisingly, I completely agreed with all 4 acting awards, and in one of my old issues of Empire resides an image of Sean Penn, Tim Robbins, Charlize Theron and Renee Zellweger all standing together prettily with their statues, and it’s an image I’m extremely fond of, because I feel all 4 fully deserved their awards. But that’s really where my agreement ended. I had been rooting for Mystic River deeply through the Oscar season (I’d been equally wary of LOTR and Coppola fanboys) so much so that in the end, it hadn’t even been about Mystico wining, but neither of the other two winning. But, alas, they did, and the opportunity cost for their wins was one of my favourite films, Finding Nemo, being robbed of the two categories that I thought it truly excelled in – Best Original Score and Best Original Screenplay. Still, it was an incredible night, I was proud as Hell of Tim, and I still chuckle when I think of a grumpy (and undeserving) Bill Murray, refusing to stand up for Penn.

The following year, my favourite mainstream film of the year, Million Dollar Baby (sorry, but I do love it) won, and instead of Timmy, it was his Shawshank co-star Morgan Freeman I was rooting for, in the same category, and still under the direction of Clint Eastwood. I loved Freeman’s portrayal of Eddie Dupris, thought his voice-over a delight, and deeply enjoyed the rambling rapport between him and Eastwood, but there is not a single doubt in my mind that a lot of my support for him was also based on the tradition that I had set up the previous year, for supporting Tim.

The following year came Brokeback, and my obsessions for the Oscars heightened. Still, it didn’t win, and, that ranks up there as one of the gravest disappointments I’ve ever suffered in my life. It was ‘orrible! I still cry thinking about it, and I swore that I would never watch the Oscars again. Yet not only did I watch them in 2007, but I watched them avidly, predicting, analysing and blogging about the Oscars like I was some kind of a madman. I do this because, I remember that, at times, the Oscars can get it right, and performances that I like – like Morgan and Tim, do actually get rewarded.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

My 20 favourite pieces of music composed for a film, ever.

In conjunction with Damian's excellent Film Music Blogathon at Windmills of My Mind.

One Zummer once said, “Film is a predominantly visual medium, which means the general purpose of a music score is to capture and reinforce the essence of a film, generally without drawing attention to itself.” Well, I’m sorry, but I disagree. Being a musician myself, I feel that music is one of the principal, if not the principal element to telling a story, and if the score ends up being so beautiful it outdoes the film itself, then so be it. Today, I’ve chosen my 20 favourite pieces of music ever composed for film, and invite you to listen to their mastery. (Some you can enjoy in the form of YouTube vids, others through downloads.) And note - quite a lot of Newman on here, because, he's kind of my favourite composer. Ever. Ever. Ever!!!!!!

01. The Heart Asks Pleasure First (Michael Nyman, The Piano)

Take from the words of poet Emily Dickinson, this is my choice for favourite, most haunting, and best piece of music ever composed for film. This piano piece enhances the ethereal, raw emotions felt by Ada in the movie, and also just happens to be a case of darn good music, Nyman's execution of this score is nothing less than perfect, and the playing blew me away.

02. First Day (Thomas Newman, Finding Nemo)


I thought I may have quite a lot of Newman (my favourite film composer) on this list, et voila, I was right! Finding Nemo is my favourite film score, and it was so hard to pick a favourite from the list, but finally, I settled for First Day, which is played early on in the film over the shot of Marlin taking Nemo to his first day at school. With pizzicati and orchestra, Newman captures the vast nature of the ocean, and hints at the playfulness and peril to follow. It’s just exquisite.

03. Comptine d'un autre été: L'après midi (Yann Tiersen, Amélie)
So good, that Tiersen ripped himself off and re-used it in Goodbye Lenin, this gorgeously sad piece that encompasses both the beauty of Paris and the joie de vivre of the film. A true example of how music can lift one’s soul into Heaven.

04. Prologue (Alexandre Desplat, Birth)
Along with Newman, Desplat is the most talented working composer of today, and his work on Birth epitomizes this fact. Although difficult to choose a favourite of his, I went for Prologue from Birth, simply for the eerily scary way it suited the images, and set the tone for the rest of the movie.

05. Love Theme (Ennio Morricone, Cinema Paradiso)

06. The Wings (Gustavo Santaolalla, Brokeback Mountain)

It's brief, but it's also undersated, heartbreaking, and utterly brilliant. Santaolalla deservedly won the Oscar for his work here.

07. Dead Already (Thomas Newman, American Beauty)




08. Theme from Schindler’s List (John Williams, Schindler’s List)
To be honest, there's nothing to say here that I haven't covered in my review of the score, but I'll just say it again - I had the pleasure of learning this stunning track for my grade 7 violin, and unlike most of my violin pieces that I learn, studying this simply enhanced my adoration for the piece. It meanders through octaves, with elegance and grace, with heartbreakingly simple harmonic progressions that truly touch the soul. Possibly one of the most recognisable pieces of music composed, and rightly so.
09. First Snow (Clint Mansell, The Fountain)
Sadly, I don't have my iPod with me (I left it at school, I'm an idiot, I know) , so I can't upload this genius of composition, but another track on the Fountain score that I loved to pieces was Death is the Road to Awe, which, despite its quasi-emo title, is utterly beautiful.

10. Drive Away (Thomas Newman, Lemony Snicket)
Showing that there is no end to his talent, this idiosyncratic electric-guitar led piece somewhat recalls Newman's work on the Erin Brockovich score, but here, it is jazzy and snazzy piece, and much more unforgettable than that of anything on the Brockovich score. As I said in my review of the soundtrack, it is a true eargasm.

11. Balcony Scene (Craig Armstrong, Romeo + Juliet)
12. Road to Chicago (Thomas Newman, Road to Perdition)
13. Your Hands are Cold (Dario Marianelli, Pride & Prejudice)
14. The Necklace and the Return and Finale (Bernard Herrmann, Vertigo)
15. Soy Marco (Alberto Iglesias, Hable con Ella)
16. And that Right Soon (Thomas Newman, The Shawshank Redemption)
17. Hedwig’s Theme (John Williams, Harry Potter)
18. Gabriel’s Oboe (Ennio Morricone, The Mission)
19. Camera Obscura (Alexandre Desplat, Girl with a Pearl Earring)
20. Filter Attempt (Thomas Newman, Finding Nemo)



Thank you for reading, now...

'Ello.
If you liked that...

Bear with the blog, and here are a few of my older posts that I recommend:

My review of Brokeback Mountain - my 6th favourite film of all time, and the best review that I've ever written. Enjoy.

My favourite screenplay of all time - a nice lil' look at my favourite script, to my favourite movie.

The day I met Sophie Kinsella/Madeleine Wickham

Monday, April 23, 2007

Happy Birthday, Mr. Shakespeare.

In honour of this very special occasion,Coffee, coffee, and more coffee is holding a Shakespeare on Film blogathon. My contribution to this will be…

Top 5 Cinematic Hamlets.

05. Ethan Hawke in the 2000 Michael Almereyda version.
Mr. Hawke does a fantastic job in the role, giving us the moody, confused, lovesick, and ultimately self-destructive adolescent that Shakespeare intended. His performance fits the contemporary style of the movie’s perfectly. Quite fine too. :P

04. Derek Jacobi in the 1980 Rodney Bennett version.
An actor who has appeared in many Shakespeare adaptations, including playing Claudius in Branagh’s 1996 version, Derek Jacobi captures the true essence of the character, from the beginning to the brutal climax. His experience of Shakespeare shows through, and, through him, Hamlet is a dreamer, a plotter, a voyeur in the corrupt court of Denmark. He makes the four hour epic worth the watch.

03. Kenneth Branagh in the 1996 self-directed version.
Probably my favourite cinematic version of the play, and, in my opinion, the truest to the original source. Some have dubbed his performance Hammy, but I think he played out his character exactly as Shakespeare intended, with the audience continually second guessing his supposed madness. His sharp, irresistible performance is one of a kind, and manages to stand out in a supporting cast that boasts the likes Judi Dench, Julie Christie, Helena Bonham Carter and Jack Lemmon.

02. Simba in The Lion King.
Yes, really, The Lion King. The Hamlet influences are clear, think about it! And Simba was such an influential movie character to me ever since I was little, that I just had to list him. In The Lion King, the role of the young prince whose father is murdered is embodied in the rookie form of Simba, whose naiveté procures him more than his fair share of hardships and troubles. But watching his trials and tribulations are an utter delight for the audience, and I adore every second of this movie. Although much of entertainment make it appear like nothing but a Disney singalong, if we probe deeply enough, we can find connections to some of the greatest literature of all time. Can you feel the love?

Zummer.

01. Laurence Olivier in the 1948 self-directed version.
The pace is slow, at times it feels stiff and artificial, the woman who plays Ophelia is a joke, but this movie has to be seen, if only for Olivier’s master class in acting. As the man who cannot make up his mind, his subtle acting brings to his role a deep understanding of his character's inner struggles and dilemmas, both moral and practical. Through him, Hamlet is every bit the enigma we read about: dignified and noble, reserved and mistrustful, emotional and ruthless, and deeply, deeply frustrated. And his soliloquies shall blow you away. Already an international star from his turn in Henry V, he won an Oscar for his work here, but didn’t bother to turn up to collect it. Probably because his performance surpassed any awards; it truly is that good.


So, hope the Bard has a good one.

Monday, March 05, 2007

My 20 Favourite Performances of 2006.

This is a mixture of talent & personal liking, with the latter making 75% affect on the final rank. :)


01. Ivana Baquero, El Laberinto del FaunoThe most breathtaking performance I've seen for a long, long time.



02. Leonardo DiCaprio, The DepartedYep.


03. Ryan Gosling, Half Nelson

04. James McAvoy, The Last King of ScotlandHe'll be on the list later too.

05. Forest Whitaker, The Last King of ScotlandGreat performance. But McAvoy was better.

06. Emily Blunt, The Devil Wears PradaYep.

07. Penélope Cruz, VolverWonderful performance.

08. Helen Mirren, The Queen
Much praised, but definitely worthy.

09. Leonardo DiCaprio, Blood Diamond
Amazing.

10. James McAvoy, Starter for 10Yummy James.

The rest...

11. Samuel Barnett, The History Boys
12. Harry Dean Stanton, Alien Autopsy
13. Kate Dickie, Red Road
14. Shareeka Epps, Half Nelson
15. Danny Dyer, Severance
16. Peter O'Toole, Venus
17. Rupert Grint, Driving Lessons
18. Danny Perea, Duck Season
19. Jennifer Ehle, Alpha Male
20. Vera Farmiga, The Departed

Thursday, February 15, 2007

The sheet music for one of my favourite film tunes.

La la la..

La la la..

La la la..

That was the sheet music to Comptine d'un autre été by Yann Tiersen

Sunday, February 04, 2007

How effective is Act I as an opening to Arthur Miller’s The Crucible?

Written by Arthur Miller in 1952, The Crucible is a play in 4 Acts that recounts the chilling events leading up to the witch trials of 1692. Set in Salem, Massachusetts, the government is theocratic—rule by God through religious officials. At the centre of the play is John Proctor, an independent, confident, and essentially, good man, but one that made a mistake, a mistake that will cost him his life. Such a characteristic to the story is similar to that of in a tragedy, as The Crucible spirals into downfall, the hints that were left in Act I become more and more apparent.

Act I introduces to us many of the major characters. It displays the nature of these main characters, and this is the basis of why they behave like they do later. The Act opens with Reverend Parris praying for his comatose daughter. At first, it seems he is mourning for her health, but later, he tells Abi, “now my ministry’s at stake, my ministry and perhaps your cousin’s life.” This shows he values his job above his daughter’s life, and this gives a taster of his personality and the nature of his actions later on in the play; in Act 4, he pleads for the release of Rebecca Nurse and Proctor, not because he cares about them but for his own safety, “You cannot hang this sort. There is danger for me.” 

When he questions Abi, it’s because he fears that the girls were all engaging in witchcraft when he caught them dancing, and his worry is not of their safety, but his own reputation. Reputation is one of the main themes in The Crucible, and Parris is one of the men who value their reputations so much that they would give everybody else’s lives for the sake of their reputation.

Abigail Williams is also introduced, and on first meeting, the author’s notes read, “a strikingly beautiful girl, an orphan, with an endless capacity for dissembling.” This is shown when Parris accuses her of conjuring in the forest and she denies it, although, later, with the girls, she gives them instructions on what to say happened, “tell them we danced”. Abigail is shown as the ringleader of the group of girls, “They’ll be calling us witches, Abby!” and fully able to control and manipulate each of them, “Let either of you breathe a word… and I will come in the black of some terrible night and I will bring a pointy reckoning that will shudder you.” In the “trance” of Act III, Abi is able to lead the girls perfectly, “Abby, you mustn’t!” This representation of Abigail causes the audience to fear and dislike her, which is exactly the dramatic effect desired of the antagonist.

The entrance of the protagonist, John Proctor, is a significant one. He starts by exercising power over his maid, Mary Warren, with, “I’ll show you a great doing on your arse one of these days,” proving him to be a tough character, unafraid of anyone else. However, when he is alone with Abigail, a different side of him is presented, as well as different side of Abigail. This encounter between Abigail and John Proctor will be the cause of everything, and Abi hints at this, “I have something better than hope, I think!” 

John is evidently over Abi, but as she is still in love with him, “I am waiting for you every night.” Her unrequited love drives the hatred of his wife, “She is a cold, snivelling woman, and you bend to her!” as well as hatred of the town, “I never knew the lying lessons I was taught by these Christian women and their covenanted men.” This offers foreshadowing - both of these will be brought together later; Abigail will make them all pay.

The set is described in detail to create the effect of austerity that the Puritans live in. The set is very bare, “clean spareness,” which leaves more room for the drama. The importance of religion to every character is portrayed, through the amount of prayer and hysteria caused through even the mention of witchcraft – “They’ll be talking of witchcraft”. Symbolism is used that will come up again, such as that of heat: “it’s cold in here yet,” is said by Proctor, and he is inadvertently also speaking of the relationship between he and Elizabeth.

Conflict features heavily in the play, and it is one of the dramatic elements used that makes the play so interesting. One of the main disagreements is between Parris and the other men; he complains that he is not given enough land, which again shows his mercenary disposition, “I am paid little enough without I spend six pound on firewood.” 

Another is between the Putnam family and Rebecca Nurse – Rebecca has had many children, and they only have one, “You think it God’s work that you should never lose a child and I have all but one?” These little grudges held by each of the characters will re-emerge later in the play, and Act I lays some of the groundwork for upcoming accusations and the true motives behind them – Putnam uses the witch trials to increase his own wealth.

From conflicts come scapegoats, and the easiest target always suffers. Here, it is the women. Abigail, though clearly evil and disturbed, can be excused for her actions a little by the fact that she is a poor, unmarried orphan – seen as the lowest of social classes. As the men question Abigail on witchcraft, she looks for the easiest target to shift the blame, “I never called him! Tituba, Tituba.” By saving herself, she is also creating fear amongst others into respecting her. Tituba, whose has an even lower status because she is a slave, manages similarly to deflect blame by accusing, “Aye, Sir, and Goody Osburn.” 

This shows that to some, the accusations are every bit about survival as they are about retribution.

Rebecca Nurse is also an unlikely scapegoat – the good mother, good neighbour and general good woman. When others fret, she consoles, “Pray John, be calm.” Though she is killed, her inner strength influences the actions of John Proctor, “I speak my own sins, I cannot judge another”. Rebecca’s calmness and sincerity show her to be a symbol of the true goodness that the Puritans in this play claim to believe in. She is accused by Mrs. Putnam, who, having had 7 babies that all died on the day of their birth, convinces herself that someone used witchcraft to murder them, and will look for a person to blame, one that has everything that she has not. Act I hints shows the faction between the Putnam family and Rebecca Nurse, and later, Putnam uses the witch trials to express his feelings of persecution and undeserved failure, and to satisfy his need for revenge.
Act I is a gripping scene dramatically. It contains violence, “smashes across her face,” implied sex, “I know you sweated like a stallion whenever I come near!” all in a very compressed time frame. There is also the mystery of what actually happened in the woods, “I saw a dress lying on the grass.” There is plenty of foreshadowing in Act I, such Giles’ harmless ramblings about his wife, “And she closed her book… and I could pray again!”, which will be the cause of her death, “I only said she were readin’ books-”. The biggest display of foreshadowing, however, is when Abigail calls Goody Proctor a “gossiping liar;” she will later call her something else.

A critical motif in The Crucible is that of empowerment, and even from Act I, it is clear that it is the women that are empowered, such as Abigail to Proctor–he sleeps with her when he wants to, arousing feelings of deepest desire in her, then drops her when he decides he wants his wife instead. Such a treatment of women will surely cause them to fight back, for survival, as well as revenge. Over the next 3 scenes in The Crucible, many people will be accused, and for once, it will be the women doing the accusing. In Act II, Mary Warren says to Proctor, “I’ll not be ordered to bed no more, Mr. Proctor! I am eighteen and a woman, however single.” This has some dramatic irony, as Proctor orders her to court in the next scene, but she is able to turn on him, “I love God; I go your way no more.”

John Hale is a man that goes through immense character development through the play. In Act I, he is presented as a smug intellectual, “they are weighted with authority,” sure of himself as well as his beliefs. At the start, he is the force behind the witch trials, “We are going to help you tear yourself free”. However, as the play progresses, and he realises that it is the innocent who are going to die, he changes completely, doubting his faith, “cleave to no faith when faith brings blood.” In this sense, Act I offers some dramatic irony about the character of John Hale – a man whose faith seemingly means the world to him, yet, by the end of the play, turns against it. He is also important as contrast to Parris’ character – at the beginning and end of the play, they both want the same thing, but for different reasons. Parris wants worries for his safety, “I dare not step outside at night” but Hale worries for his conscience, “There is blood on my head!”

When Hale thinks Tituba has compacted with the Devil, he forces her into naming all the others, “does he ever come – with another person?” This act of naming is an essential element to the play, and come up many times, including in the climactic moment when John Proctor chooses to die. He cries, “Because it is my name! Because I cannot have another in my life! Because I lie and sign myself to lies!” This again shows the importance of reputation.

There is no truth to any of the naming that Abigail does, but the girls follow suit, to free themselves from any blame. The Act ends in a crescendo of voices, claiming to have seen people as witches. This is a climactic way to end a scene, marking a distinctive end, as well as keeping the audience gripped and awaiting what will happen next.

The play, though a tragedy, has some important messages at the centre of it – that good can come from evil, such as a higher, more emotional love between Elizabeth and John forming. Above all, The Crucible is a parable to the connection of private sins with paranoia, hysteria, and religious intolerance. It picks up on the unjustness of it all, and with some added dramatic techniques, The Crucible can act as a parable to any points of mass hysteria, including the McCarthyism of the 1950s. 

Act I is a gripping and revealing start to Miller’s haunting, lyrical play.