Tenet Review

Poised to be the event film to ‘save cinema’ in a post-pandemic world, Christopher Nolan’s Tenet has been anxiously waiting in the wings till its release. Hotly anticipated for being both the new film from the industry’s most revered blockbuster filmmaker and for being the first big release for the re-opening of cinemas, there hasn’t been a motion picture like this to have your fingers crossed for since The Force Awakens. Fortunately, those fingers can relax.

Time (and the manipulation of it) has fascinated Nolan right from his backwards thriller Memento twenty years ago all the way through to Interstellar, Dunkirk and Inception. With Tenet, the director has culminated two decades of barnstorming temporal storytelling into a 150-minute spy thriller that makes Inception’s narrative complexity look as basic as a Cars film. The less said about the plot the better, but it boils down to The Protagonist (John David Washington, sporting an immaculate beard and enough tailored suits to make the folks in Kingsman blush) dashing about the world investigating ‘inverted’ objects that means actions and entire scenes can play out in reverse. It is an idea to be seen rather than told.

Those that have discovered the limitless creative possibilities of Snapchat’s reverse filter will thrill at seeing the same effect supported by a nine-figure budget. Bullets are inhaled back into their gun’s barrel (a pre-established trick from the opening of Memento) and cars are ‘un-crashed’. It is a unique, head-spinning piece of technical wizardry that is a cinematic delight. Nolan tinkers about with the concept; pushing it to the very extreme but never to self-indulgence. Tenet does maintain the muted colour palette that all of Nolan’s film have but there is a notable usage of red and blue, with each colour corresponding to the state of time. It is a simple idea, set up in the film’s opening logos, but it works wonders to remind the audience what on earth is happening.

Washington anchors the film with just enough to wit to sustain the labyrinthine narrative, asking enough questions for the audience’s benefit but also packing some serious muscular presence in the film’s exceptional action scenes. One such set piece is a high-concept hallway fight that might just out-do its counterpart from Inception. But Nolan, whose eye for action has exponentially increased with each blockbuster, also helms road heists, sophisticated shootouts, spectacular vehicular crashes and an adrenaline pumping opening of such bravura to rival The Dark Knight Rises’ plane ambush. If there is CGI in this film, it is impossible to see. All of this is intensely scored by Ludwig Göransson who channels all the synths and drums he can find and unleashes them to near deafening effect.

Another notable change is that this is the first Nolan film since 2002’s Insomnia to not have the legendary Lee Smith as editor. The difference is practically invisible, as Jennifer Lame picks up the mantle and, in what must have been a herculean effort, deftly uses her shears to cut and stitch the sequences into an accessible order whilst also reversing a great deal. It is blistering filmmaking.

Despite this, there are lines and occasionally entire scenes where the dialogue is drowned out by the sound effects and score. A soon to be infamous sailing conversation is in desperate need of subtitles. Whether this is due to post-production occurring in lockdown and away from the studios or whether it is Nolan forcing his audience to concentrate as hard as possible is unclear. Furthermore, Nolan’s character-based dialogue can’t keep up with the intriguingly dense exposition. Of course, going to see a Nolan film means ideas, story and technical genius over characters, but it is only Elizabeth Debicki’s character who gets the emotional heavy lifting and her dialogue doesn’t fully sell it. The cast are still uniformly strong: Robert Pattison drips charm as a fellow spy and Kenneth Branagh is a scene-chewing Russian villain who could easily inhabit a Timothy Dalton era-Bond film.

The filmography of Nolan can be defined by being fiercely apolitical and completely uninterested with being products of their time. Brands, dates, years and ideology are discarded for the sake of achieving immortal filmmaking; meaning new audiences can watch Tenet decades on and still find it fresh. Yet despite Tenet aiming for being timeless rather than timely, it is bizarre watching characters wearing masks in order to inhabit a backwards world.

Filled with invigorating filmmaking, Tenet respects its audience’s capacity to think and follow. Feeling Tenet is incredible, but understanding it is like achieving Enlightenment. Whilst perhaps edging closer to the later films of David Lean with its pictorial focus and desire to be ‘true cinema’ at the cost of character, Tenet is a refreshing head-scratcher.

Inception- 10th Anniversary

A whole decade has passed since Christopher Nolan, hot off the juggernaut success of The Dark Knight, blitzed the world with Inception. With $820 million in worldwide grosses, the bitingly original film was, thanks to its complex ideas and brilliant special effects, a must-see experience. Since that July in 2010, Nolan has concluded his Batman trilogy, made a hugely ambitious space film, an art-house

 war film and a (slightly delayed) mysterious spy thriller film. But it is Inception that remains Nolan’s most ‘Nolan’ film and perhaps his greatest accomplishment.

Leonardo DiCaprio spearheads an international ensemble as Dom Cobb, a thief who commits his robberies deep in the dreams of his targets. It’s a thrillingly unique concept, one that is entirely dependent on vast swathes of exposition. Thankfully, Ellen Page’s Ariadne (the aptly named maze architect) is on hand as the audience surrogate, asking her peers the questions bouncing around the audiences’ brains. No other film gets away with this much constant explanation, but the premise is so ridiculously fascinating that there is an addictive quality to consuming more dream related knowledge.

Cobb is hired by Saito (Ken Watanabe) to undergo a new job: rather than extract information, Cobb must plant an idea in his target’s (Cillian Murphy) dreams, a notion considered impossible. Nolan frames this science-fiction thriller under the structure of a heist film, taking his time mapping out the intricate details of the operation to keep his audience on the right side of understanding.

In a cinema the emotional response to Inception is enhanced to something akin to an epiphany. The film’s legendary and ground-shaking set pieces inspire a whole new sense of awe: the Mombasa chase, the folding city and the seriously impressive rotating hallway fight just become the apotheosis of big screen filmmaking. It takes one thing to imagine physics-bending sequences but something else entirely to create them with minimal CGI.

Nolan rightfully receives the most acclaim for this colossal convergence of blockbuster-meets-auteur but there are two other worthy heroes of the film’s success: editor Lee Smith and music composer Hans Zimmer. The juggernaut final hour intertwines the numerous dream layers, ensuring the audience gets both a grasp of the different time ‘zones’ and the effects that trickle down through each dream. The cutting between the ensemble is simply masterful, and Zimmer’s Oscar-snubbed score is one of his greatest accomplishments.

To see Inception as merely a high concept piece of technical filmmaking is to the detriment of the character work on display. In Cobb, DiCaprio’s conflicted widower supplies both the emotional beats as a father who wants to see his children again and the high stakes as the projection of his dead wife Mal (Marion Cotillard) becomes an invasive presence in the dream world: a pure femme fatale. By paralleling Cobb’s emotional arc with the increased threat, Nolan keeps the action and scope grounded in character. It is an underrated DiCaprio performance; the final look he gives Saito in particular is fantastic. The vital relationship between Cillian Murphy’s character and his father is also one that hits the feels; reaching its zenith in a moment of indescribable catharsis.

A highly overlooked aspect of the film is the relationship between Tom Hardy’s creative forger Eames and Joseph Gordon-Levitt’s narrow-minded Arthur. Their exchanges are delightful; with Eames being critical of Arthur’s lack of imagination (Arthur uses pre-existing dream techniques such as the Penrose stairs as opposed to anything inventive). However, when things go inevitably off-plan in the climax, Arthur does think independently to stage a ‘kick’, overcoming his fear of spontaneity.

Some time prior to this, Eames comments to Arthur “never be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling” before exploding a gunman with a grenade launcher. The line demonstrates the icy relationship between the two but overtime it has come to manifest itself as something more: a challenge. It isn’t too far-fetched to imagine it as Nolan’s way of telling his fellow filmmakers and other studios to embrace originality, and that trusting an audience to keep up intellectually and narratively guarantees the lasting popularity that Inception has a decade on.

A behemoth picture that still looks and sounds incredible, Inception is the red wine of the 21^st century blockbuster bar.

Ennio Morricone: 1928-2020

There is a scene in the 1986 film The Mission where Jeremy Irons’ Jesuit priest, deep in hostile territory and near surrounded by enemies, sits on a rock and plays his oboe. The soothing music echoes around the luscious clearing, arousing his would-be assailants’ curiosities in a beautiful declaration of the transcultural power of music over aggression. The track, ‘Gabriel’s Oboe’, is one of the most revered in the late Ennio Morricone’s legendary career, one that saw him score over 400 films in a span of over six decades and saw 70 million records sold worldwide.

Before I watched The Mission, the first time I heard that track was four years ago at my school’s commemoration service in Canterbury Cathedral. Usually the kind of service that lasts a lifetime and is a struggle to get through, this one was different. Rather than another hymn, a fellow pupil sat alone before a thousand people with naught but an oboe and the song book from which he played that Morricone piece. Among the gargantuan pillars and distant ceiling of the cathedral, the oboe’s tune was magnified and the feeling was simply euphoric; a similar experience to what the natives of South America felt in The Mission. One can’t fathom what his performances for the Pope in Vatican City must feel like. After the service there was a unanimous verdict among my friends: it was the best commemoration service we had been to. Why? Because of Ennio Morricone’s soul-touching music. It’s one thing to be a great film score composer, but it is something else to create a single, two-minute track that can be removed from the context of its film and still touch and transport a cathedral full of teenage boys.

But The Mission is but one of Morricone’s masterworks. The most prolific person in Hollywood to not speak English, the Italian Morricone (or the ‘Maestro’) scored for such distinguished classics as The Untouchables, The Thing (1982), Casualties of War, Cinema Paradiso and The Hateful Eight, for which he won his only Oscar for. Whilst overdue, the simple fact is that Morricone transcended the need for trophies and awards; his genius was already well known.

His unrivalled partnership with Italian director Sergio Leone rightfully gets the most attention in his filmography, however. In Leone’s creation of the Spaghetti-Western sub-genre, Morricone’s input was pivotal. The smaller budgets of these Italian films denied the classical orchestral instruments that Hollywood was employing, and so Morricone looked for new musical sources.

The most titanic of these films is The Good, the Bad and the Ugly and its instantly recognisable theme song contains unorthodox whistling, yodelling and an iconic coyote wail. It is synonymous with the Western genre, and when an Italian reinvents the entire sound of the American Old West, it must be impressive. And it is. The final 25 minutes of The Good, the Bad and the Ugly contains arguably some of the best film composing of all time. But here is where Morricone really shines: the music for the film was largely composed before photography had even begun. Connotations of the word ‘filmmaker’ are generally ‘director’ and sometimes ‘producer’, but rarely is the term used to describe a composer. Sergio Leone allowed the music to tell as much of the story as the script; often refusing to cut scenes because he did not want to cut the music and writing more scenes around the score. Such is the influence of Ennio Morricone, perhaps the only musician who deserves to be labelled as a filmmaker.

His influence has inevitably permeated the mainstream: Quentin Tarantino often recycles existing Morricone compositions for his films; Metallica, KFC and Nike have all used the ‘Ecstasy of Gold’ track in some format and it is unavoidable to listen to Hans Zimmer’s track ‘Parlay’ (from Pirates of the Caribbean) without thinking of the Maestro’s work on Once Upon a Time in the West. Indeed, Zimmer is renowned for utilising electric instruments in film composing, but it was Morricone who first brought the electric guitar to the Western genre, something that influenced Zimmer to become a composer himself.

But it ultimately comes back to Jeremy Irons and his oboe, communicating his peaceful intent to those of another language. With high sales in Italy, France, USA and South Korea, Morricone’s music achieves what could be considered the greatest desire for an artist: an instant accessibility, no matter the culture, race or religion. It is music made to touch and enthral, but ultimately to endure. Without him a lot of cinema’s highest highs would never have been reached, and a school commemoration service would never have been remembered so fondly.

Directors shoot, Morricone scores.

Ranking Star Wars Films

The eleven live-action Star Wars films assessed by both a Star Wars fan and a filmmaker fan to see where (and if) those two viewpoints fuse together at any point. Having re-watched them all over a few days, they are all fresh and my thoughts have never been so singularly focused on this. 

I will also drop my three favourite scenes from each film. 1-11. 

1. The Empire Strikes Back (1980)

Yoda lifting the X-wing, Luke vs Vader, Lando's betrayal 

A flawless unity of fanbase and critics's support, this iconic sequel crafted the narrative and tonal boldness that all subsequent sequels aspired to. The strongest screenplay of the bunch, Luke's training on Dagobah gives the story its wisdom and spiritual magic whilst Leia and Han's blossoming romance during a staggered space chase gives it the emotional and action beats until Luke faces Vader. Great photography, John Williams at his peak and unforgettable lines. 

2. Star Wars (1977)

The trench run, Obi-wan's house, Binary Sunset

Watching this it is impossible to think of it as an original film back in '77. Its imagination far surpasses the limitations of its occasionally hammy dialogue, and the striking designs and bombastic score all collide for a fantastical, near spiritual awakening (especially if a young boy). Its dated feel comes off as magnetically charming and it is totally wholesome too, able to seen and enjoyed independent of the others. 

3. Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)

Vader's hallway massacre, destruction of Jedha, X-wings arrive at Scarif 

The greatest accomplishment of the Disney era, Rogue One's brilliance stems from its unique gritty tone and visual magnificence. Perhaps the best shot installment of the franchise, director Gareth Edwards fills the story with ground-shaking action scenes, an engaging batch of original characters and the instantly beloved Battle of Scarif. With inventiveness to spare, the mesmerising third act is pure blockbuster, and the Vader lightsaber ignition is just... 

4. Revenge of the Sith (2005)

Anakin vs Obi-wan, Order 66, the opening sky battle 

This is when Star Wars fan overpowers filmmaking fan. It is far from the best made (extensive CGI backdrops are fatigue inducing and the script and acting is lackluster) but this always feels like the film George Lucas always wanted to make. With masterful editing paralleling numerous sequences, Lucas' Shakespearean tragedy is one of the most imaginative blockbusters: from Clone Turbo Tanks to flying Wookies, Mustafa to Utapau, Grievous to a lizard chasing a unicycle, this is a childhood defining film. From a LEGO perspective this is objectively the best film. Order 66 is heartbreaking and the highly anticipated lightsaber clash between Kenobi and Skywalker is as fierce as poignant as necessitated. 

5. Return of the Jedi (1983)

Luke vs Vader, space battle of Endor, Vader's cremation
One of the more up-and-down films, ROTJ has its fierce defenders and it has its 'it's good, but weaker than the other two originals' naysayers. If Episode III is a darker and bolder trilogy capper, this third installment is safer, bringing more optimism and greenery to the proceedings. If the Jabba's Palace rescue plan makes very little sense, and the third act planning starts far, far too early, it is boosted by the final half an hour that is quintessential Star Wars. Luke's clash with his father and his subsequent declaration that he is a Jedi to the Emperor is the saga's greatest, purest moment. If it was Wookies instead of Ewoks, no CGI singing and dancing scene and Boba Fett wasn't so mistreated, then this would be higher up the list battling it out with Rogue One. 

6. The Force Awakens (2015)
Millenium Falcon's flight, Resistance vs First Order on Takodana, Finn and Rey vs Kylo Ren
The safest Skywalker film by a considerable margin, of course TFA belongs slap bang in the middle of the list. It has a few inspired moments: a stormtrooper with a conscience, a desert scavenger sliding down a sand dune on a sled, Kylo stopping a laser bolt, Han using Chewie's bowcaster etc. But they are small moments rather than outright scenes. There is a lot left unsaid such as Anakin's lightsaber, why Max von Sydow had a piece of the map to Luke Skywalker and how the First Order grew such strength in the shadows of the New Republic. But its enjoyable enough, even if it does feel frustrating watching the familiar story and knowing where things lead (or don't) in its sequels. Too vanilla.

7. Solo (2018)
Kessel Run, Maul revealed, Han vs Beckett
If TFA was safe, then Solo makes it look positively original. Massively under-marketed and with box office takings, Solo is the definitive three star film. More interested in ticking off back story boxes than propelling a unique narrative, it nevertheless contains 'fine' effects, camera work, acting and characters. It is quite a dark film lighting wise, but the third act shenanigans are entertaining enough to keep this spinoff afloat. I would sooner watch one of the prequels of sequels than this again, but the filmmaking is objectively more cohesive and able so it hovers above its cohorts by the skin of its mundane teeth.

8. The Phantom Menace (1999)
The podrace, Duel of the Fates, Qui-Gon wins Anakin's freedom
As this list veers into openly bad territory, TPM is, bizarrely, the strongest of these final four notorious additions to the franchise. Jar Jar and Annie's annoyance has waned over repeat viewings whilst meme value has exponentially increased. If you can stomach some awfully dated effects, skin crawling dialogue and (unintentional?) racism, then it is easy to switch off and enjoy the exhilarating podrace with its immersive sound design, the masterful final lightsaber battle and its long term ramifications (watch Dave Filoni's breakdown of its importance) and Liam Neeson as Qui-Gon, a Jedi Master inhabiting a more impassioned, fatherly role model for Anakin. The Ned Stark of the saga, Qui-Gon's role casts a long shadow over the prequels.

9. The Last Jedi (2017)
Luke and Yoda's conversation, the Holdo maneuver, Snoke's death / Praetorian Guard fight
Enough has been said on Finn's wasted character in this film, the uselessness of his subplot with Rose, the blandness of Canto Bight, the laughable Rose 'rescue' at the end and the really awkward, irregular humour. But where my issues with this film is Luke. Rian Johnson makes Luke out to be a new Yoda or Obi-wan: a wizened master with a fallen apprentice who gives up hope in bringing them back. But unlike Yoda or Obi-wan, Luke proved that Darth Vader could return to the light, even after all his dark deeds. Luke has empirical evidence that people can be redeemed, Obi-wan did not. And Kylo Ren was only feeling the dark side, he had not been wiping out and torturing rebels and younglings alike. This grumpy Luke is non-canon as far as I am concerned. TLJ does have its moments: the cinematography, especially in the final hour, is breathtaking, the action scenes are equally shot well and the sound design is on point. There is also a wisdom here, "we are what they grow beyond, that is the burden of all masters" states Yoda. As a film, it is actually good. Luke does have a great arc and ending and there is a narrative boldness to its decisions. But as a Star Wars film, it really does not work. Subversion is great for genre, not for a franchise. This is not the OT Luke Skywalker and the best scenes like Holdo's lightspeed ram and Yoda's lightning bolt raise many, many questions about previous Star Wars moments. Too bold.

10. Attack of the Clones (2002)
Asteroid belt chase, Jedi enter the arena, Yoda vs Dooku
If Anakin was posted on a more unique mission with Padme instead of rollicking about in a green screen spewing a series of diabolical words that do not belong together, this could have been a great film. Obi-wan's detective story, slowly unraveling pieces of Darth Sidious' masterplan that leads to the Clone Wars, is awesome. Naboo and Tatooine however... The worst dialogue of the saga is supported by acting so wooden the extras got splinters. Geonosis is where the film peaks, delivering a vast battle sequence that recalls the videogames and toy sets of my youth. It is at least a cohesive story, something that does put it above Episodes VIII and IX from that viewpoint, but its full blown CGI and romance scenes drags it back down.

11. The Rise of Skywalker (2019)
Rey giving Ben the lightsaber, Chewie getting his medal, ... I am struggling here... that shot of the Y-wing attacking a Star Destroyer?
This is non-canon. Painfully told with a story line so tediously long winded that even the actors do not want to be there. Finn had so much potential to lead a stormtrooper uprising here, considering how big a deal is made out of the troopers being children forced into it. Palpatine's return undoes everything from Vader's prophecy and the joyful ending of Episode VI to Darth Maul's final line in Rebels. After three films I still do not know the main characters well; Rey is far too overpowered for someone who has never lost, been incorrect or emotionally vulnerable prior to this. The fact that choosing three favourite scenes was hard is proof that this is the weakest of the bunch. Caught between continuing what JJ Abrams planned with TFA and undoing what Johnson did in TLJ, the film ended a beloved franchise with whatever is smaller than a whimper. Too desperate.

Star Wars Marathon: An Exhausting Breakdown

"If you go to your [uni house] for a few weeks you better do something worthwhile down there" my mum's advice echoed as I completed all five Jurassic Park films and, using my six month free trial with Disney+ (thank you O2 Priority, very cool), started combing my way through the eleven live action Star Wars films. This is where the fun begins. 

Day 1: The Phantom Menace and Attack of the Clones

I revisited the prequels in November last year in anticipation of the final Skywalker film and greatly enjoyed them in a post-meme environment. This time it was a struggle. Alcohol was extensively required to wade through TPM's tiresome tax talks and politics which, whilst opening up the socio-economic world of Star Wars, detracts from one could have been a relatively streamlined film. Jar Jar has bizarrely become less of an irritant over time but is still a pain, as is Jake Lloyd's Anakin. The film is rescued by Qui-Gon Jinn, the ferocious sound effects of the podracing and the Darth Maul fight. Watching Dave Filoni's analysis of that vital fight scene strengthens it tenfold too. 

AotC's is equally a slog and I do find it inferior to its predecessor simply because it lacks scenes as spectacular as the previously mentioned set pieces. The Anakin-Padme 'wooing' is horrific, both in its visual effects and dialogue. Obi-wan's detective story is at least intriguing and the asteroid belt chase with Jango Fett is a go to scene for demonstrating the franchise's unparalleled sound design. Upon reaching the end of the film, one can only exhale in relief: the worst is now behind and things start to look up. I retired to bed, where even my dreams had green-screen. 

Day 2: Revenge of the Sith, Solo: A Star Wars Story, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story, A New Hope

At a relaxed 11:00am Revenge of the Sith was whacked on. Not just one of my franchise favourites, RotS is also one of my most re-watched films, period. The defining Star Wars film of my childhood, I have seen it an embarrassingly amount of times. It reminds me of Shrek 2: a pretty good film that has become a pop culture landmark in the age of memes and social media, ensuring that it has aged (accidentally) very, very well. Drinking every time a meme is said is fatal but even without alcohol this is a blast. By far the most imaginative of the saga (excluding the original), this feels like the story George Lucas always wanted to make: its editing and use of parallels gives it a 'planned for years' vibe. Crackling with invention in the planet, vehicles, action and music departments, it is a definitive blockbuster. 

The darkness of RotS instantly subsided after switching on the spin-off Solo, which is a dark film visually but in tone and spirit a largely childish film. My first time re-watching this 2018 'flop', I had genuinely forgotten I had seen this by the end of the night. My definitive three star film, Solo is a plain Jane. Acting, characters, action, score, effects and story are simply fine. They do the job. The third-act shenanigans boost the film's appeal but it is one of the least daring blockbusters committed to the silver screen. 

After a much needed break of sitting in the garden (it was a scorcher of a day), dinner was consumed and Rogue One commenced. By far the strongest of the Disney era, Rogue One is alive with originality due to its unique, gritty tone, ground-shaking set pieces and astonishing camera work and visuals: perhaps the best Star Wars film from a cinematography perspective. I love this film, and the Scarif ending always makes me feel like a child again, and for that it receives a double thumbs up. 

The ending of Rogue One mellifluously flows into the evening's final picture, A New Hope. It is brain numbing to imagine audiences in 1977 watching this and just being blown away (or weirded out) by George Lucas' insane vision and creativity. A beautifully wholesome film that is satisfactory even without sequels and prequels, you can't help but relish in its charm.

Day 3: The Empire Strikes Back, Return of the Jedi 
Now we are sailing. TESB is the best Star Wars film cinematically. The characters get extensive arcs and developments, the action lands and visually it is stunning: the freezing chamber for Han's carbonite session and later Luke's confrontation with Vader is worthy of recognition in the archives. John Williams also goes full legend mode: the Imperial March, the Asteroid Field, Yoda's Theme... without Williams this franchise just would not work. This is also my favourite Han Solo film.
ROTJ is the weakest of the originals, hindered by lazier storytelling (another Death Star), a third act that starts about fifty minutes in and ewoks downing the Empire's finest legion of stormtroopers. But this concluding epic also houses some of the greatest sequences in the saga: Luke's defeat of Vader, followed by his declaration that he is "a Jedi, like my father before me" is the absolute high point of the entire franchise. The Emperor is a superb villain with his baiting of the Rebel Alliance working twofold: first it removes his enemies, but by staging it outside the window of a captive Luke, he pushes the young Jedi's principles to their limit as Luke is caught between the Jedi code and needing to save his friends. The ultimate good overcoming evil narrative, ROTJ is super satisfying. Tying everything off perfectly and conclusively, it is a joyous ending. For me, the Star Wars franchise stopped here.

Day 4: The Force Awakens, The Last Jedi, The Rise of Skywalker 
This is where the fun stops. I last saw TFA in December and found it to be just 'fine'. It is annoying to see the potential that this film set up the sequels to have, only for it to be unfulfilled. Perhaps the safest blockbuster ever made, it does undo the peaceful end of Episode VI by having the First Order essentially being stronger than the Empire. But after six viewings I still find this relatively enjoyable with fun moments.
TLJ is the opposite. My fourth full viewing, this has not aged a fraction as well as what Rian Johnson hoped it would. Johnson stated that Episode V was originally decisive, implying his artistic vision will be re-evaluated. But Episode V still had people extremely excited for Episode VI, TLJ derailed the saga so much that people slogged to see TROS. The film's coolest moments (Yoda summoning lightning, lightspeed ram, Praetorian Guard fight) are undermined by logical issues (what is the extent of Force-ghost interference, why can't the lightspeed ram be constantly used, why do so many of the guards stand about doing nothing / mysteriously use weapons). The two things I can say I like conclusively is Yoda's dialogue with Luke and the cinematography, which drips with reds and whites. Visually and aurally it is majestic. But Finn's character is thrown under a truck, Rose is cringe-inducing, the action rarely makes sense, the Leia Force scene is iffy and the comedy is not Star Wars (have sat through nine of them back-to-back and this humour is a curveball).
Then there is the conclusion to the Skywalker saga. If TFA was too safe and TLJ too bold, then TROS is just too desperate. Suffering from a ludicrously hamstrung story (find a thing to get a thing but we need to go somewhere to get something to read a thing in order to find a thing that is ultimately not needed) and a waste of characters, even the visuals and sound are flat and uninteresting. John Williams has nothing to work with either and this is the weakest score of the bunch: you will be hard pressed to find an original theme in this installment as instead Binary Sunset and Leia's Theme are rammed into every Force based moment. Even Yoda's Theme for Luke raising his X-wing is more a callback than meaning. Rey is seriously overpowered and never experiences any form of loss or pain for me to empathise with her. Ben Solo's redemption is nice but becoming a Force-ghost after one good deed after all the murderous things he has done is not satisfactory. There is a total lack of states too: a perfect opportunity to give Threepio an emotional sendoff is re-routed, Chewbacca is used for a lame death fake-out, Kylo is stabbed and healed and Rey is brought back. The less we say about Palpatine returning the better. This is pure non-canon.

A Star Wars Marathon can be great fun: drink for the prequels, enjoy the originals, get wasted for the sequels. The marathon will peak far too early (Episodes III-VI) but you can stop at VI and not miss anything. I will not be doing this again for many years. 

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Most Under-appreciated Blockbusters

There is a moment in the second Pirates of the Caribbean film (Dead Man's Chest) where three characters, Jack Sparrow, Will Turner and James Norrington, engage in a three-way sword fight aboard a large, moving wheel that crashes through the tropical terrain. All three are after a key and the key opens the titular chest that contains Davy Jones' heart. Jack wants it to settle a debt with Jones, Will wants it to free his father who serves Jones, and Norrington wants it to redeem his career in the British navy. It is a thunderous set piece fueled by the character's self interest and it had me thinking: are there any other blockbusters as original, imaginative and entertaining as the first three Pirates of the Caribbean films?

I watched 2006's Dead Man's Chest and its sequel, At World's End (2007) over two nights and was astonished by the dizzying plots and adventurous filmmaking on display. Widely regarded as inferior to the original, The Curse of the Black Pearl, the two films have far weaker ratings on IMDb and Rotten Tomatoes but were gigantic box office successes: Dead Man's Chest became the third film ever to cross the once fabled $1 billion mark, and its sequel came agonisingly close to becoming the fourth. These are films made purely with the audience in mind, and, in watching this two-parter (they were shot back to back) the only blockbuster films that I could think of that had any connection to this series were the Marvel Cinematic Universe and the Indiana Jones films. 

Pirates of the Caribbean is to the 2000s what Indiana Jones was to the 1980s: a set of three films that revolve around an instantly, almost casually iconic lead character and his adventurous deeds. Whilst Pirates uses the 18th century and the rise of the British navy as its historical backdrop, Indiana Jones uses Nazi Germany in the 1930s. Both trilogies feature exhilarating action, inspired chase sequences with careful choreography, MacGuffins and a sense of mysticism and magic that is connected to the MacGuffins. They both have instantly recognisable scores too. 

Dead Man's Chest and At World's End also feel like the Avengers Infinity War and Endgame of their decade too. These two pairs of film were shot back to back, feature extensive and innovative visual effects and were colossal hits. Narratively, the first in each pair is a lean, 2.5 hour action packed extravaganza that interweaves numerous characters and stories all in the search of a mystical object (the chest vs infinity stones). The second film in each pair is longer, but less action packed until their blistering third acts. Part of the story concerns undoing the events that happened previously (Jack's death, the Snap) before tying everything else in a neat bow at the end. Other similarities include a CG villain who is seen crying at one point (Davy Jones and Thanos) and the reveal of a 'captain' at the end of the second film (Barbossa and Captain Marvel). And yet despite the vast narrative structure of Pirates 2-3, they are never given the attention and praise they deserve. Yes, they are similar to the Indiana Jones films, but they are also far more unique: the visual details of the crew of The Flying Dutchman, the more roguish and ambiguous leading three characters, the quirky comedy, the glimpses of surrealism in Davy Jones' locker and the naval mythology that is intuitively brought to life on-screen. The point is, nothing comes close to these films in terms of setting, action, style, humour and narrative ambition. Just examine some of the set-pieces: pirates suspended in a gorge inside a spherical cage made of bones end up rolling it down through the jungle whist their captain pole vaults with a bamboo stick stuck to his back; a gigantic sea monster tries to engulf a ship whilst the others load gunpowder and rum into barrels to be used as an explosive; two ships engage in a broadside battle as they swirl around a maelstrom and their crews swing across to either ship; in order to escape the naval underworld the crew have to capsize their own boat. Is there anything out there close to this wackiness? 

There is also a beautiful poetry to these films that I discovered on this re-watch. Jack finishes the trilogy alone in a small dingy, just as how he is introduced. Will is stabbed by the same sword he makes for Norrington in the first film. Barbossa marries Elizabeth Swann and Will Turner after calling her 'Miss Turner' a bunch in the first film. Davy Jones is all octopus except his crab claw, which shows the hold Calypso (crab goddess) still has on him. It is payoffs such as these that lend the films a more intellectual drive then you might initially credit them credit for. 

There are also two references to Sergio Leone Westerns in At World's End: Jones' pocket chimes start playing as Calypso's ends like in the final duel in For A Few Dollars More, and the parley sequence in the third act is shot and scored like a Western. Ideas like this just do not make it into the current Disney conveyor-belt of films. 

Part of the story sees Jack attempting to undermine / fulfill / escape his debt to Jones. We are told that Davy Jones raised The Black Pearl from the depths and gave Jack 13 years of captaincy in exchange for his soul and a hundred years of servitude aboard the Dutchman. Jones is consistently referred to as depicted as the devil of the seas, and Jack's deal with him is pure Faust, turning the family adventure film into a loose Christopher Marlowe adaptation. Furthermore, it is intriguing that Davy Jones is the only main character who keeps his word. He never lies, cheats or manipulates- he is the devil through sheer power. However, all the other 'non-devil' characters are all lying, cheating and manipulating people. The series totally nails the 'pirates' of the title. It turns criminals escaping the British Empire into freedom fighters that the audiences can rally behind. 

The long winded point I am trying to make here is that Dead Man's Chest and At World's End are not to be placed in the same category as the Transformers or Fast and Furious films as 'teenager blockbusters that score big bucks no matter the quality'. There is a genius to these pictures; an ambition to both enthrall and entertain. There are some great character moments (Elizabeth's descent into piracy is paralleled with Jack's rise to heroism) and a clear sense of direction, planting and payoff. And I haven't even spoken about the phenomenal music, still immaculate CGI and the pitch perfect performances from Johnny Depp, Bill Nighy, Geoffrey Rush and Tom Hollander. These are colourful, majestic and bold blockbusters that bring so much new to the field without looking like they are trying. 

The Quarantine Collection: Week 9

As restrictions have eased and I have been able to see a few friends this week, this will be the final lockdown log. I saw 57 films during this time, as well as numerous seasons / series of a range of TV shows. Great success. 

Fri. 15th May : War of the Worlds (2005)

DVD. 

Steven Spielberg directs this modern adaptation of the famous novel and radio show with some razor sharp tension and impressive effects. I was captivated throughout the runtime; and my resistance to naming Spielberg as a 'great' was severely tested. This is the only 21st century film of his that feels on par with his more acclaimed works. The basement scene, opening invasion and a taut crowd scene make for some heart pounding set pieces, all the while Spielberg keeps the camera at eye level. There is an annoying scene with the son character, and the ending feels sudden, but a lot of excitement in the first two acts ensures an enjoyable time. 

Also check out : Minority Report (2002)

Sat. 16th : Howl's Moving Castle (2004)

Netflix,

Crafted as an anti-Iraq War allegory, this Studio Ghibli film has all the classic hallmarks: an imaginative story (based off an English novel), entertaining characters, gorgeous animation and a stirring message. Again, its climax is not as exciting as the rest of it, but the characters and humour maintain interest. Christian Bale voices Howl. 

Also check out : Castle in the Sky (1986)

Sun. 17th : All About My Mother (1999)

Box of Broadcasts. 

This Spanish film comes from acclaimed director Pedro Almodovar, who uses his position to platform such pressing issues as AIDS, transgender identity and homosexuality. The result is a film totally bewildering in its sexual politics. Most of the cast are women, and the men in it want to be women. Its relatively entertaining, with a young Penelope Cruz. 

Also check out : All About Eve (1950)

Mon, 18th : In the Line of Fire (1993)

DVD. 

Wolfgang Peterson (one of the coolest director names) helms this political thriller, revolving around Clint Eastwood's Frank, a Secret Service agent who failed to prevent Kennedy's assassination in thr 1960s, so now feels it his duty to protect the president of the 1990s from a crazed and chameleonic John Malkovich. This is a straightforward film but it also has brains and wit to match its style and energetic tone. There is also a nice conversation about giving up your job for someone you love, which is a lovely sentiment. 

Also check out : Absolute Power (1997)

Tue. 19th : Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (2019)

Blu-ray. 

This re-watch sealed my verdict that this is my favourite Tarantino film. The golden photography, casual tone to the scenes and pacing, instantly iconic characters and period detail through lavish production design and radio stations form a bittersweet historical experience. It still makes me chuckle, its filled with nods to Westerns and there is some brilliant acting from DiCaprio and Pitt in this. I may not have had that knot in my stomach the second viewing, but the climax is still one of those scenes that elicits both a satisfying cheer and an 'oh fuck me' simultaneously. It is QT's most mature piece, with an effective final shot. 

Tarantino ranking : Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, The Hateful Eight, Inglorious Basterds, Pulp Fiction, Django Unchained, Jackie Brown, Reservoir Dogs, Deathproof.  

Also check out : Dazed and Confused (1993)

Wed. 20th : Finding Dory (2016)

DVD. 

A textbook definition of a harmless sequel, Finding Dory looks top notch, has some good belly laughs and has an emotional punch. But it also functions as a parable for the hardships, and the potential joy, that living with someone with disabilities can have. Director Andrew Stanton endeavours to steer the story away from repeating the same beats as Finding Nemo (2003) and it mostly works, though it is noticeable. And the truck driving is absurd. 

Also check out : Moana (2016)

Thu. 21st : How to Train Your Dragon (2010)

Netflix.

My second favourite Dreamworks film after Kung fu Panda (2008), this is also a key demonstration on a film being far greater than the book. Its message about acceptance and preconceptions is potent, but its John Powell's terrific music and the Hiccup / Toothless dynamic that really soars. The test drive scene, forbidden friendship scene and Astrid's ride above the clouds are standout scenes, but the final boss fight has some exciting amounts. And it is not afraid to maim its lead character. 

Also check out : How to Train Your Dragon 2! (2014)