“Last Christmas” is the tenth Doctor Who Christmas special in as many Christmases — a decade of Russell T. Davies’s and Steven Moffat’s annual systematic warping of holiday traditions and iconography. The ongoing Simpsons “Treehouse of Horror” aside, holiday TV has surely never seen anything quite like it. A single Who holiday outing might be something for a fan to pull out and view every year, but ten of them!? To the newbie binge-watching the entire run in the middle of the summer, the fixation must seem absurd (for instance, there are only five regular episodes between 2011’s “The Doctor, the Widow and the Wardrobe” and 2012’s “The Snowmen”).
But for the diehards, they’ve become more and more a big part of our yearly celebrations, and under Steven Moffat’s guidance, the Christmas specials are increasingly integral to the continuing story line. This latest outing is a proper dramatic coda to season eight, which back in November left us emotionally hanging (not to mention drained) as to the fate of the intense, complex friendship between the Doctor and Clara — a pairing that seemed in jeopardy of dissolving due to rumors that Jenna Coleman was leaving the show. Well, now we know the score: Not only is Clara sticking around, but she’ll be traveling alongside the Time Lord for the duration of season nine. Anyone who read my recaps for season eight undoubtedly knows that I am giddily delirious at the prospect of another full season of Clara Oswald, which itself is a pretty special Christmas present … but boy, did Moffat make me work for it.
Read the rest of this recap by clicking here and visiting Vulture.
Monday, December 29, 2014
Sunday, December 28, 2014
Time Bandits: The Criterion Blu-ray review
The movie portion
of this review was previously published at Bullz-Eye. Stills are
not screengrabs from the Criterion Blu-ray.
If you were a certain kind of boy or young teenager in the ‘80s, then there’s a good chance Time Bandits was a very important film for you. Sure, you loved Ghostbusters, Raiders of the Lost Ark and The Goonies, but Time Bandits was special in a different way because not everyone else was in on it; it was seemingly dismissed even by most adults (well, the ones I grew up around anyway). For many young people, it was our first introduction to the whacked out joys of Monty Python, even if we didn’t realize it at the time, as Time Bandits is not a proper Python film. But half of the six-man comedy troupe is involved in the picture, and so when we finally got around to discovering Python, we recognized John Cleese and Michael Palin from this film. Little did we know, though, that all of Python’s strange animations were the handiwork of the guy that directed this piece. Wasn’t it refreshing to not have every fact and figure at your immediate disposal way back then? You picked up information over the years while actively seeking it out. Perhaps, as Time Bandits hints, computers really are the playthings of Evil.
David Rappaport and Craig Warnock |
However, it’s
also possible you were not a certain
kind of boy in the ‘80s, or that you’ve never even seen Time Bandits. If so,
let’s lay it out there. One night, 11-year old Kevin (Craig Warnock) lies in
his bed. Out of his wardrobe tumble six dwarfs on the run from God (who here is
referred to as the Supreme Being). He’s their employer and they build trees for
him. But they’ve stolen a powerful map from God, and now travel around through
history, attempting to loot the past for riches. Kevin follows, and finds
himself in all manner of incredulous situations, such as bantering with Robin
Hood (John Cleese) or conning Napoleon (Ian Holm) out of his wealth. At the
same time, Evil (David Warner, in one of his very best roles) watches over,
secretly plotting his takeover of the world via the map, and eventually, an
understanding of computers. Exactly what is “The Most Fabulous Object in the
World,” and can the inept group of thieves procure it?
Sean Connery as Agamemnon |
As is
probably to be expected, Time Bandits works on two different
levels. There’s the fantasy/adventure angle for younger viewers, and a sharp,
comical script loaded with observations and commentary for the adults. Much of
the film’s satire revolves around consumerism and greed, and the lengths to
which people will go in order to satiate such desires. Although John Cleese and
Sean Connery get top billing (albeit alphabetical), the film’s stars are
Warnock and the dwarf actors. David Rappaport plays the leader, Randall, and
the emotional backbone of the film is really the relationship between him and
Kevin, which is not even remotely a feel-good sort of thing. In fact, the
dwarfs aren’t even particularly nice people, and in one segment, when Kevin is
separated from them in Ancient Greece, he meets King Agamemnon (Connery), who
is more of a father to him than his real father ever was. The dwarfs kidnap
Kevin away from his new, perfect life, because they realize he’s actually
smarter than they are, and they need him to further their schemes.
David Warner as Evil |
Time Bandits didn’t seem a particularly dark movie
to me as a kid, but in rewatching it today, I find myself somewhat aghast at
how cynical it really is (although even when I was young I realized how fucked
up and bleak the final moments of the film are). This really should come as no
surprise when you consider that Terry Gilliam unveiled Brazil, the ultimate
dark, fantastical social commentary of the 80s, a few years later. (Gilliam was
even trying to get Brazil made before Bandits.)
While this was Gilliam’s third film (he’d previously co-directed Monty
Python and the Holy Grail and helmed Jabberwocky solo), it was
the first in which he indulged himself seemingly every whim and idea. Each
frame of the movie is crammed with detail, from the important to the trivial,
and perhaps what’s most striking about it today is that all the effects are
handmade (also the name of the production company – Handmade Films). This is a
CGI-free picture, from back when there was no CGI, and it’s all the better for
it. It’s a tangible universe; one that you can feel and believe in.
John Cleese as Robin Hood |
None of this
is to imply it’s a perfect film - just that it’s an ambitious and fun one.
While the movie spares little time getting going, it takes forever to end, and
much of the big finish, in which Kevin and the dwarfs battle Evil, goes on for
far too long, and undercuts some of the intelligence the film is rooted in.
When the Supreme Being (Ralph Richardson) shows up, the movie somewhat
recovers, but even by then it feels as though the joke has perhaps gone on for
a little too long. Yet these are nitpicks from someone who’s seen it countless
times, and is possibly taking it all a bit too seriously. Time Bandits remains
Fantasy 101, and a must see for people who enjoy this kind of fare. While
you’re at it, why not share it with an impressionable 10-year old?
Blu-ray Review &
Extras: The previous
Image Entertainment Blu-ray release was a visual letdown, and barely deserving of the
format, so thankfully Criterion has finally stepped up to the plate and delivered
their shining goods via this new 2K digital restoration supervised by Gilliam. Time
Bandits soars once again! Ported over from their own previous DVD
release is a commentary track featuring contributions from Gilliam, Craig Warnock,
Michael Palin, John Cleese, and David Warner (though not all together in one
room). A new 23-minute piece traces the design aspects of the film through interviews
with costume designer James Acheson and production designer Milly Burns.
Running at a
whopping 81 minutes is a revealing conversation between Gilliam and film
scholar Peter van Bagh. From the Midnight Sun Film Festival in 1998, the
interview was recorded not long after Gilliam finished Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas,
though that particular film is only briefly discussed at the close. The rest of
the conversation traces his growing up in Minnesota, his joining of Monty Python,
and talk of each his classic films made until that point. If it’s not
the definitive Gilliam interview, it’s certainly up there, and it is always a
delight to listen to Gilliam talk life and shop, and here he’s given plenty of
time to pontificate.
A short,
vintage 8-minute piece from Tom Snyder’s Tomorrow is an interview with
Shelley Duvall tied to the film’s release, which more than anything else is a
great reminder of how obnoxious Tom Snyder was. There’s a short gallery of
photos from the set, and a very funny three-minute trailer that wreaks havoc
with the concept of trailer voiceovers - also ported over from the Criterion
DVD. (The “Time Bandits Scrapbook,” which ran for 3:13 is absent.) Instead of a
booklet, this disc’s essay, entitled “Guerrilla Fantasy” by critic David
Sterritt, is printed on a large fold out piece of paper, which flips over to
reveal a recreation of the iconic map. It’s not as large as the one in the
film, yet would look very nice framed, though I suspect David Sterritt would
rather me not recommend doing that. Finally, the disc features a snazzy
lenticular slipcover, which may or may not be available on future pressings of
the disc.
Photo of fold-out map included in the Criterion disc |
Saturday, December 06, 2014
Happy Birthday, Ben Watt!
There’s
always time and space to write a little bit more about Ben Watt and/or Tracey
Thorn, but today the focus must be on Ben, for two reasons: It’s his birthday
(happiest of birthdays, Ben!), and because after nearly 25 years of being a
devotee of all things Everything but the Girl, I finally got to see half of the
band perform live on Thursday, the fourth of December, 2014. Ben brought his
one-man show to the extremely intimate venue of the Cactus Café in Austin,
Texas, and it was easily one of the most rewarding “concerts” I’ve ever been
to. It was a perfect show - certainly as perfect as a solo Ben Watt, touring
his solo album Hendra, could possibly have been, anyway. He played the bulk of
the new album, three EBTG tunes, and a pair from his first and only other solo
record, North Marine Drive, which dates all the way back to 1983.
But
the night wasn’t just about music, it was equally about Watt recounting
memories and telling the stories of how all these songs came to be. As a
musician who’s also written two books, Ben’s storytelling prowess may be on its
way to equaling his musicianship, as he took time out between each and every
tune to weave tales of days gone by – some happy, some painful, all poignant. The
latter assertion should come as no surprise to anyone who’s followed his music
over the years. Ben’s music, Tracey’s music, and the music they’ve created
together has always been there for me when I needed it, and though it doesn’t
have all of life’s answers, it has more often than not seemed to be asking the
same questions as I, at whatever point in my life I was listening. It has
always felt as though we were on the same page, and there really isn’t any
other body of musical work that I can say that about.
Hendra is an insightful and heartfelt work, and one
that, while I enjoyed a great deal
prior to hearing him play it live, has now moved up to transcendent. There was
just something about seeing and hearing Ben play, for instance, the tune “Forget,”
mere feet away from me, that made its messages about regret and loss all the
more important. Ben, at one point during the show, copped to the fact that the
songs that make up Hendra are perhaps not exactly life affirming, happy-go-lucky
tunes. But he insisted that what the album was really about is resilience, and
how important it was for listeners to feel that within its ten songs. As I get
older, and life’s disappointments stack up, I can think of no other message I’d
rather hear.
The
idea of releasing a solo album 30 years after the previous one must have been a
daunting one for Watt, especially with the immense popularity of EBTG in
between. Would people show up? Would anybody care? We did and we do. Watt was
generous enough to stick around and chat with the diehards after the show,
which made me a bit nervous. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been
disappointed by meeting a hero (there are countless talented assholes out
there), and the last thing I wanted was to in any way be let down by a guy who’s
been half responsible for some of my favorite music ever recorded. But I wasn’t.
Ben was as genuine and warm in person as anyone could possibly hope for.
One of
the lyrics on Hendra, from the tune “Young Man’s Game,” is “I’m not as good
as I used to be.” I beg to differ, Mr. Watt. You may, in fact, actually be
better. I all but begged you on Thursday night to keep doing this, and I want
to reiterate that here: Please continue on with this second (third?) act of your
career. We need you to give us comfort in the late night hours when everyone
else has gone to sleep, or when we’re in the kitchen doing the dishes and
everything seems so very ordinary. We need you to keep telling your melancholy stories
and weaving your extraordinary truths. Simply, life is made a little bit easier
with Ben Watt music playing over its soundtrack.
Labels:
Ben Watt,
Everything but the Girl,
Music
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