R.I.P. Andy Hallett

Andy Hallett, who starred as Lorne on the TV series Angel, died of heart failure last night at age 33. My thoughts go out to his friends and family.

Knowing.

First of all I'd like to say that overall, I was pleasantly surprised with this film. I had heard a lot of bad things and it IS Nicholas Cage on his current run of awful films so, all things considered, it was pretty good. Don't get me wrong, Nicholas Cage is one of my favourite actors, he is capable of some outstanding performances; Bringing out the dead, Leaving Las Vegas, Matchstick Men and Face Off being just several to mention.

The film initially ponders the debate of Determinism vs Probabilistic theory with regards to the origin and fate of the Earth and its hosts, them being us. The factors are obviously hopelessly generic to support the storyline, Nicholas Cage is the son of a preacher who has lost his faith after his wife passed away. He finds comfort in the proceeding events as he learns there was nothing he could do to save her.

The catastrophe scenes with the plane crash and the subway are brutally hard-hitting and loud. Loud in noise, in rawness, they feel incredibly real and this is actually surprisingly scary. The angel people or whatever you want to call them are a freaky cross between James Masters and the "Hush" whisperers from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The scene where one of them creeps into the boy's bedroom and points behind him out the window to a glimpse of the future is incredibly freaky, mainly because of the music which is rather unsettling.

The gift of death for Emily's daughter brings her the comfort that her mother was not crazy. She doesn't have to endure the pain of letting her daughter leave with the Spike looking Angel people sporting Matrix leather Jackets, unlike Cage's character. Also, It's always a brilliant idea when freaky shit is happening left, right and centre and the world may be ending, to drive to the middle of the forest and leave your children unattended to in the back of a car.

As many critics of Nostradamus have argued, by predicting something we can often make it happen. The ITLADian perspective that we create our own universe can be taken to the extreme view that these predictions become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Nicholas Cage comes into contact with these predictions yet by trying to stop them he merely allows them to follow their natural course. Such reflection is an inevitability, we think we are gaining control over our universe by learning physical laws and understanding it's past but it would seem we are only learning what we are spoon fed. As audience members we have the luxury of looking at the film from an outside perspective and being able to realise certain things that they can't. We are the people in the film and this realisation in itself, is actually rather paradoxical!

So what do we learn from this film? Well, we learn that Bunny Rabbits are regarded to be on a higher hierarchy than Nicholas Cage by Angels. As the kids are taken onto the spaceship they are told they can bring the Bunny Rabbits. The little boy tries to bring his father but soon learns that Nicholas Cage is not a desirable guest for where they're headed. So where are they headed? Well, it seems they are taken to a Weetabix advert to run through the fields. This modern day Adam and Eve run towards a tree which arguably has religious significance. The ending is a bit silly, it's almost as if it abandons its path towards the end and splits into about four different type of genre.

Bunnies yes, Nicholas Cage no.

Bright Lights Big City

A brilliant film from 1988. So why is this one of my favourites as well? Well, In many ways this film is quite similar to HurlyBurly. It's sort of like HurlyBurly but with an actual storyline! Storyline, how conventionally boring right?

The film is about a young writer who is trying to make a name for himself, despite being trapped in a self-created world of drugs, a terribly mundane job as an editor and a world of pain at the loss of his wife to a career in modeling and his mother to cancer. The film appeals to me in the same way HurlyBurly does in that it celebrates and then condemns self destructive behaviour. Jamie Conway is on a path of destruction and before he can wake up, he must first go down in flames, he must hit rock bottom. His unwillingness to "wake up" on the words of Spike Lee's "School Daze" are shown in a running analogy throughout the film. The newspapers keep us updated on the situation with the "Coma baby" that seems rather stubborn to come out and join the rest of the world.

The film begins with a beautiful shot of Times Square at around 5-6am. Having experienced this view myself after a first date with a New York Girl it brings back wonderful memories. I also lived in the West Village where a lot of this is shot, there are shots of the "Village Cigars" store and the laundrette around the corner from where I lived 17 years after this film was made.

There is one scene with a ferret and Keither Sutherland that almost lowers the tone of the whole film but somehow, they manage to pull it off (literally) without hurting the film too much. The film takes place over the course of a week in the life of Jamie Conway, Sunday is humorously missed out due to a rather large hangover which induces a sleep running into the ever enjoyable Monday morning.

Michael J Fox is very likable and manges to provoke sympathy despite constantly making the wrong choices, he tries to stay in one night and write, however this doesn't last long and he's soon back out sampling some more "Bolivian marching powder" The dialogue is extremely funny in places and allows J. Fox to show off what he does best. His character is a kind of stepping stone from Back to the future to Spin City and he really captures the plight of Jamie Conway. There's something very enjoyable and interesting in living vicariously through others, especially when they're lapping up a life of such a hedonistic nature.

Great film that probably makes my top 10 favourites.

New York City to Welcome Martin Huxter

As Martin Huxter's ( aka Hurlyburly)  American associate,  I just wanted to announce that Martin will be arriving in New York City on April 12.  I,   my 21 year old son,  Andrew,  and my 28 year old niece,  Danielle,  will be giving him a heartly welcome in Times Square,  where he will be staying at the Hilton Hotel on 42nd street.  We look forward to fine conversation with this lovely and illustrious British film critic and social satirist par excellence:   Bravo,  Martin!  It will be a privilege to have your lovely British self in Times Square.

Living with Demons

Excerpt from The Blood Poets: A Cinema of Savagery, vol. two, "Millennial Blues," by Jake Horsley

If the eye could see the demons that populate the universe, existence would be impossible.

—The Talmud

Demons come in all shapes and sizes; they can be metaphor or metaphysic, troll or goblin or gremlin or vampire, werewolf or poltergeist, serial killer or zombie. But, whatever they are, the horror film is a washout without them. Very few movies, horror or otherwise, have endeavoured to deal with demons in the true, theological sense of the word—that is, the inverse of angels, spiritual (therefore invisible) beings that populate the Earth and meddle in the affairs of men, specifically, to possess his body and/or torment his soul. Adrian Lyne’s overwrought but genuinely terrifying thriller, Jacob’s Ladder (1991), is the only, outstanding case I know of of a Hollywood mainstream movie (until Fallen, that is) dealing with “the problem of demons,” more or less directly and (what’s more) intelligently. The fact that, by the end of the movie, the whole story has proven to be no more (but also no less) than the hallucinations of a dying man does little or nothing to detract from the film’s intensity (though it may undermine its integrity somewhat). This is, after all, the story of one man’s soul, and its battle to come to terms with the life it has lived, to overcome the demons of the past that refuse to let it go. Jake’s doctor, played by Danny Aellio, quotes Eckhart on the subject: 

The only thing that burns in hell is the part of you that won’t let go... Your memories, your attachments; they burn them all away. They’re not punishing you, they’re freeing your soul. If you’re frightened of dying and you’re holding on, you’ll see devils tearing your life away. But if you’ve made your peace, then the devils are really angels freeing you from the Earth. It’s just a matter of how you look at it, that’s all.

Although as a thriller, Jacob’s Ladder appears to be little more than medieval-gothic/new age hokum, at a more esoteric level, the film is surprisingly, at times disturbingly, persuasive. The writer, Bruce Joel Rubin (who went on to write the insipid Ghost and the loopy Deep Impact ), has obviously taken the time to research his subject, and the film achieves an atmopshere of occult menace and paranoia such as few horror films ever come close to (Polanski’s The Tenant, though a more obviously psychological thriller, is one of the few). Lyne’s direction is characteristically unimaginative, slick and assured but lacking either subtlety or sensitivity. Yet his commerical touch here (Lyne is yet another English filmmaker trained in advertising) is more suited to his material than in his other, uniformly lousy sex-orientated films (Flashdance, 9½ Weeks, Fatal Attraction, Indecent Proposal). He shows a horrifying flare for depictions of demonic presences and hellish landscapes, and the monsters here, which are the monsters of the protagonist’s mind—are amongst the most appalling ever put on the screen.

Lyne’s lack of empathy as a director is compensated for (as it isn’t in his other films) by the presence of Tim Robbins in the lead role of Jake. It’s Robbins’s first major role, and although he doesn’t do anything really suprising here, he’s sympathetic enough in what amounts to a difficult part (like Harry Angel, Jake is the fall-guy), and his proficiency carries the film along. The story concerns not merely demons of the spiritual kind, in fact, but also of the political and technological variety: it’s about a secret mind control drug used on American troops in Vietnam, designed to bring out the savage, aggressive side of the psyche (to tap into the liminal part of the brain?) and to turn the soldiers into “unstoppable killing machines.” The drug proves too effective by half, however, as even the most miniscule doses turn the troops into homicidal maniacs who tear into anything in sight, including each other. What’s worse, a side-effect of the drug is the onset of intense hallucinations, and a kind of sickly, encroaching paranoia. The survivors (of which Jake is one) suffer from the conviction that they are being persecuted by inhuman forces, and literally see demons on every side. 

The trouble with the film’s resolution (that Jake is in fact dead) is that, if all this is just a dying man’s dream or vision, then how are we supposed to take it? As a creation of his own mind, or as a projection of a future which he might have lived, had he survived? The film seems to want to have it both ways. After all, we’ve watched the whole movie taking it to be “true,” then, in the last few minutes, we are asked to accept it as a dying man’s fantasy. Obviously, the first hundred minutes far outweigh the last two, no matter how much of a “revelation” they may be. And in actual fact, the last scene is a bust, anyway, because it doesn’t add anything to the film, really, but only takes (or attempts to take) everything we’ve just seen away from us. The film closes with a rather lacklustre caption informing us that, “the hallucinatory drug BZ was used in experimentation on soldiers during the Vietnam war. The Pentagon denied the story.” This—the fact of mind control experimentation by the government—is a reality that I trust most discerning American citizens are aware of by now, however dimly; but the film itself offers us no specifics, no authentic details, no single reason for us to take it as factual. The case it presents us with (even if it hadn’t just been exploded as “fictitious” by the film itself) seems flaky, not because it’s far-fetched or exaggerated (anything but, I fear), but simply because it is insufficiently well-researched, and therefore seems to lack plausibility. Actually, the whole script is a mess, because it seems to be unsure itself, as to whether the demons are an hallucination caused by the army drug, or whether the whole army-drug story is just an hallucination created by the demons, or whether it’s all just a metaphor anyway, created by the human mind, as it prepares to face its annihilation. Etc., etc...

Still, to a large extent, this chaotic lack of structure, of coherent intentions, works for the film and not against it, because it creates an appropriate level of uncertainty and mental panic in the viewer, provided of course that he’s prepared to suspend his disbelief and go along with the action, at a more emotional level; which is where the infernal presences and nightmare visions come in. Jacob’s Ladder is one of the very few recent movies (perhaps the first since The Manchurian Candidate) that successfully describes, or evokes, something of the despair, dread, paranoia and outright horror of modern life, in the age of psychological/germ warfare and shadow governments. It may even be that, with this film, “covert operations” became the modern version of “occult forces,” hence the use of theological terminology here meshes almost seamlessly with the espionage-paranoia plot. Jacob’s Ladder is an outstanding film of the ’80s, because it brings two very distinct kinds of horror together into a single nightmare: the nightmare of control. This effectively combines the ancient fear of possession (i.e., demons) with the modern fear of corruption (i.e., evil men, or government). 

Jacob’s Ladder is like an update, for TV generations, of the Frankenstein myth. The hidden forces of the American government, and their Nazi-like doctors (standing in for the old Baron), are never seen in the film—as befits their covert nature—but their presence is certainly felt. No longer working to create life, modern science is now dedicated to conquering the human mind, to turning man into a machine that can be controlled and deployed, like a living weapon. And of course, in the process of harnessing this forbidden knowledge, the demons of the psyche are unleased. Once unleashed, these demons (like Frankenstein’s monster) cannot be placated, they can only be confronted. Knowledge, science, technology, in this myth they all equal disaster. In Lyne’s film, mankind itself, represented by the shadowy, omnipotent but wholly corrupt powers of the Pentagon, has become the modern Prometheus; while society, as the laboratory in which these infernal powers-that-be operate, has become the arena where the unspeakable consequences unfold. It has become Hell on Earth.

Jacob’s Ladder is an authentic apocalyptic vision of a society on the brink of devouring itself, of succumbing to its own insanity, and being overrun by its own demons. Like its protagonist, it walks the razor’s edge between madness and illumination, between paranoia and heightened awareness; and the awful, unthinkable visions it conjurs up are—far from being the deranged rantings of a diseased mind or mere chimera summoned up by blind hysteria—images of things to come. The Vietnam war was a bizarre and covert kind of sociological experiment, as much as it was a bid for power. Drugs were used (on both US and Viet Cong), not only in an insane attempt to win the war, but, more disturbingly, in order to test their properties and discover more about the workings of the human mind, ways in which it might be controlled, manipulated, reshaped, destroyed, and to discover just what the human being was capable of. The war itself was unlike any other war before it or since; none but the very few know what really happened there, or why, and those few aren’t talking. 

For a Hollywood horror fantasy, Jacob’s Ladder draws on some pretty painful home truths. Its use of the supernatural, as the only feasible way to account for, portray, and above all do justice to, the kind of organized evil and insanity which government has become, seems to me to be neither arbitrary nor unjustified, but genuinely inspired. The human psyche is a dark and dangerous place, alright, maybe not unfathomable but certainly as-yet-unfathomed by modern man. Science and psychology, when in the service of governments, tend to plunder and pillage in precisely the same spirit as army troops in a foreign land—they are there to conquer, not to comprehend. The unmapped territories of Heaven and Hell, which in Rubin’s script are suggested to be strangely synonymous, are like areas of the human soul which we have been unable, or unwilling, to recognize in anything but metaphorical terms. Jacob’s Ladder literally brings the demons of the Vietnam war home to us, and makes no bones about designating the enemy: ourselves. And, by rediscovering the metaphysical dread that lies beneath our modern, urban angst, it presents possession (and corruption) not merely as a plausible reality, but as a fact of life, and one that we had better learn to live with, if we want to die right.


There’s so such thing as fucking demons!
—Jacob’s Ladder

The curious case of Benjamin Button

Like so many films today, the film begins with a story being told by somebody on their deathbed, further supporting the theory that as we approach our death the playback of our lives begins, giving us access to all kinds of distant memories.

Entropy, the thermodynamic arrow of time and a whole bunch of other stuff that I occasionally manage to get my head around, indicate that time could run backwards in a particular set of circumstances but it is highly improbably, more than highly in fact, hence "the curious case!"

The concept of time pertains to man and consciousness, we are bound by it and our lives make sense because of it. Flipping chronology of life on its head as we know it makes for an extremely moving film that tackles many issues of our lives including perceptions on age, love, rites of passage, friendship and general expectations.

Lightning is a major mention in this film as it is in Francis Ford Coppola's Youth without Youth. Probability and inevitability are usually explored through miracles within film and arguably this is no exception. In the Coen Brothers film "The Hudsucker Proxy" Tim Robbins' character falls to his death and is saved as time stands still for him when an angel stops the clock. This idea that we step out of time upon our death is one explained by Anthony Peake throughout his work, helpfully explained with his "Sky Diver falling out of time." In this film though, a clock is intentionally made to run backwards in order to bring back casualties from the war, it's one of several indications towards our generalisations and assumptions of time and the way we take its nature for granted.

The film is beautifully shot and although enjoying the luxury of a fairly long running time, still manages to capture an entire lifetime in just a few hours on screen.

VALIS

I just finished reading my first Philip K Dick book, that being the wonderful VALIS. Dick strikes me as someone that could have easily written in many different areas with ease, but for reasons lucky to us all, Philosophy and Science Ficition were the areas that allowed him to share his voice and his life best.

The mix of religion, physics, insanity, humour and just great story telling made this a real treat for me. The way in which VALIS is described is indeed extremely similar to that of the Daemon put forth by Tony, Or Anarch Peak!

"Kevin, inhaling deeply and gripping the seering wheel tight said, "She said that MY DEAD CAT...." He paused, raising his voice. "MY DEAD CAT WAS STUPID" ......

"My cat was STUPID." Kevin continued, "because GOD MADE IT STUPID. So it was GOD'S fault, not my cat's fault"

Pg 236

These two pages had me smiling very brightly. The way in which the book is structured is a perfect summary of the lengths to which individual search for meaning can be taken, but after all is said and done, we are left obliterated by choices and freedoms that usually leave us a bit perplexed (completely nuts!)

The story of his son who is saved by some information sent by VALIS kept reminding me of Anthony Peake's mention about the lady who was going to take those pills that would have harmed her baby, very similar and very interesting.

What engaged me so quickly was Dick's wit and humour, he is a very humorous writer, reinforcing my belief that the best comedy requires massive intelligence and perception about the world around you. As his world got more confusing, his humour and work obviously got more daring and from this, greatness was an inevitable consequence.

Next read from him?

The Anniversary Party

This is another one of those little unknown gems that get found for a few pounds and turn out to be hidden treasures. I first saw this film a few years ago and loved it. Allan Cumming and Jennifer Jason Leigh play the troubled couple who throw themselves a party on their sixth anniversary. The two of them wrote, directed and produced the film managing to capture beautiful and horrifically awkward moments of love and friendship.

The cast is outstanding, boasting Gwyneth Paltrow, Phoebe Cates, Kevin Kline and John C. Reilly... Oh and the neighbours! After the guests share their stories everyone drops some Ecstasy just to give the drama and conversation that little kick-start it needs! A fantastic film that may just about sneak into my top ten favourites.