Old Boy – A Review

Old Boy is my favourite film. As far as I can see, no amount of superlatives could explain quite how much I love it. After my first viewing, (all on my lonesome) I realised I probably hadn’t blinked during its entirety and I could quite possibly have been burgled during its course and been none the wiser, such was the extent to which I found it totally and utterly engrossing. Obviously a review consisting of very little other than me spewing praise would be a fairly dull read which was why I never bothered to review Old Boy until after my second viewing, with my Po’. My father being the eternal sceptic that he is turned out to be an extremely worthy person to watch the film with, and his response to it opened my eyes a little as to why I love it that much.

The plot itself is as follows. The protagonist Oh Dae-Su is one day captured and finds himself locked up in a makeshift prison. After a brief spell of anger and spewing hatred for his captors, he resigns himself to his fate, and after 15 years of shadow boxing and suicide attempts he wakes up from a gas induced coma on top of a tower block where he was initially seized. He then proceeds to try and find out who did this and why, and the film basically charts this quest.

The first word that springs to mind when thinking about this film has to be graphic. There are certain scenes which will make those of nervous disposition recoil until they are firmly wedged between the back and seat of their sofa, and they are likely to spend much of the film there as violence is frequent. In most of the extreme cases it is simply the implication of violence and the viewer’s imagination when left to its own devices like this will cause its own disgust. This hurdle was a huge thing problem for my dad, who considered some of the violence to be gratuitous, which I can somewhat agree with, although certain scenes are completely integral to the plot. The best way I can justify these scenes is simple. It is all about sending a message, and these do just that. If you can cope with this then you will break down the initial barrier the film leaves lying in the way of your enjoyment.

Another barrier will be the massive culture shock experienced when viewing the film. This is a Korean language film adapted from a Japanese animé series, so there are obviously large cultural differences to the western world. Some of the images used will require quite some thought to fully understand, and the script on translation does lose some of its flow, as any animé or graphic novel fans will associate with. For my father, this made it hard for him to settle into the flow of the film, and I can identify with this slightly from my early days of watching animé.

Many of the themes you will pick up on and the method of direction is very synonymous with Quentin Tarantino. There are devices used in this film which have obviously taken inspiration from Tarantino’s works, in particular the Pulp Fiction- esque use of camera angles, and the famous dotted line sequence. However, Tarantino is himself a huge fan of Old Boy, being its main advocate to win the 2003 Palme d’Or (where it eventually lost out to Fahrenheit 9/11) and has stated Park Chan-Wook as an influence for his directing style on the Kill Bill series, as well as on his later grindhouse works Death Proof and Planet Terror. Chan-Wook takes on a policy of “trust the director”, and leaves many questions throughout the film which gives it a somewhat disorientating feel at times. This method of directing can seem quite inaccessible, however all loose ends are tied up very satisfactorily in the enthralling and shocking climax. This is an ending to rival the classic Kaiser Sozé twist in the tail of The Usual Suspects.

What really separated and elevates Chan-Wook’s work above and beyond Tarantino’s however is very simple. Much of Tarantino’s work is undertaken as an exercise in direction and film making, and therefore his work can therefore feel shallow. Old Boy however is a film which assesses the deepest corners of the human heart. The middle of three films which make up Chan-Wook’s Vengeance Trilogy it is undoubtedly the masterpiece, with a more powerful message than Lady Vengeance and Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance. This film has power because of the depths to which it explores the flaws and forces the human heart possesses, stronger and more destructive than any wisdom can overcome. The performances of the main cast and most importantly the director to send this message to the viewer leave this film as about as close to perfection as I can see any film getting.

The Last King of Scotland

Over the years films seem to have gone through phases of popularity. From the science fiction of the eighties, courtroom drama’s of the nineties to the war flicks of the nougties there has always been one genre that seems to be milked until the last sour dribbles within each time frame. In recent years however the proverbial milk is being taken from the udder of “Snuff” films.

The more traditional horror films of the past have been succeeded by a torrent of films such as “Saw” and “Hostel” dedicated to documenting the graphic and horrifying demise of terrified teens in a variety of increasingly gruesome ways. These films have sadly received a decent backing from critics and viewers alike who puzzlingly seem to buy into the token of a back story the antagonist uses as their reasoning for carrying out their horrific pursuits. It seems the more traditional techniques and themes used to evoke terror in the viewers have been sadly dropped by the wayside. The earliest of horror films used a concoction of suspense, gothic imagery and implied brutality to trigger the viewer’s imagination into assuming the worst, in the process leaving them terrified.

When watching The Last King of Scotland I was finally given a reminder that these techniques have not been forgotten.

The film charts the story of Nicolas Garrigan (James McAvoy), a young and charismatic Scottish doctor, who moves to Uganda looking for adventure, but rapidly winds up the newly appointed president Idi Amin’s (Forest Whitaker) personal physician, with all the side effects. Although Garrigan is followed throughout, this is just the “McGuffin”. This is a film dedicated to Amin. Director Kevin Macdonald turns Forest Whitaker from an underrated Hollywood b-lister who rarely played anything other than a disturbingly likeable character, into a truly terrifying tyrant.

Amin was an inspiring leader capable of great speeches as is shown in the film, but it is the other forms of persuasion displayed are far more interesting. Whitaker portrays a manipulative and violent leader who would stop at nothing to carry out his ever changing wishes. Despite all his charm he is an immature leader who puts his pride above all else, as is backed up by Garrigans cry, “You’re a child. That’s what makes you so ****ing scary!”

This is the films strong suit. In Whitaker and McAvoy you have two leading actors who are totally convincing in their playing of totally convincing roles. The realism of the film is so extreme it is easy to become immersed in the plot and genuinely fearful of Amin. Whitaker just becomes Amin in every way, his emotions simply feel real. When the premium talent of the two main characters is backed up by top notch support staff and a brilliant soundtrack and script you have a genuinely amazing film.

In terms of immersion there are few films that will capture your attention like this one, and the performance of Whitaker is simply awe inspiring. I urge you to go into this film with an open mind and try to hang on to every word, as they are all fantastic. This is not a casual film, it creates a world you will be sucked into for its duration, but the images included will live with you for a long time to come.

The Nightmare before Christmas

The thing I found hardest to take about The Nightmare before Christmas was classification. When watching a film I like to know as early as possible what I am likely to be in for, so I can prepare my mood so I am most likely to enjoy what is in store. This is a film where I struggled. From the opening I was stuck in a peculiar state of purgatory with words and concepts swimming around my head. Is this a musical? Is it a cartoon? Is it horror? Is it something that can just be put under that special label of “Tim Burton thought of it”. I felt once agan like I was being sucked into the old debate of whether a Jaffa Cake is indeed a cake or a biscuit. The one thing I am certain of is that it was visually stunning, and the script and voice acting left little to be desired.

The method used to capture the puppets movement and emotions is surprisingly expressive and emotive, while the majority of the songs are infectious and will force you to crack the sort of smile you normally reserve for those precious moments when someone you know well truly surprises you. As is to be expected some of the songs are a little less stand out and detract from the atmosphere slightly, but nothing film breaking. The real stand out character for me was the delightful cameo of the bogeyman, whose appalling yet endearing persona was a treat.

Now let’s talk about what this film isn’t. This isn’t a film that you should take too seriously. It is very light on plot and those expecting anything more than the most basic fairytale story will leave bitterly disappointed. It also isn’t very long, but this really does work in its favour, leading me nicely onto my closing thoughts.

Touching back on my point of classification, this film cannot be classified as it is in defiance of all common genres, but this didn’t trouble be at all like I had imagined it would. The short length of the film lends it to have a relentlessly fast pace meaning it has an uncanny knack of holding your attention and keeping you fully immersed. The way it has been shot is so interesting that it matters little that the plot cupboard is bare. The Nightmare before Christmas is a short trip into fantasy land, where the strangest things happen and you are in kept awe almost constantly. Although not without its flaws this is definitely a welcome diversion from most other films developed on this side of the world, reminding us all not to take ourselves too seriously.

Blade Runner – Final Cut

Let me first say a little something about immersion. Immersion for those unaware is yelping in fear when a friend taps your shoulder in the middle of 6^th Sense, or following every sentence with an utterance of “Ooooh-Rah!” after spending more than a few minutes in any cinema with Tim Sizemore on screen. In my experience the feeling of immersion will make and break any film. If I had to choose one word to describe my experience of Blade Runner howeverI would have to say schizophrenic. For large portions of the film the atmosphere of the dystopian future Scott creates will grasp you to the extent the absence of distant siren will make you feel distinctly on edge. However, it is the other moments in the film that left me feeling baffled and disappointed. It seems to switch all too frequently between being a thriller and drama. Now, I am aware that a handful of genuinely good dramatic thrillers exist, but in aiming for both of these key genre’s Blade Runner appears to have missed both and instead the genre bullets have landed smack in the middle of what can only be described as “Hollywood”.

Maybe I am being too harsh on the film, I truly did enjoy it overall but with a plot and cast with such promise I expected so much more. The lack of immersion it seems can be stemmed back to the whole Final Cut scenario. From my limited background knowledge of the film I can only deduce that back on release day if we had popped down to cinema town and paid our thru’pence ha’penny to watch Blade Runner, we would have been treated to a film with a far more consistent feel (the original cut being a typical film noir detective thriller). I am a film lover who enjoys a consistently good script, soundtrack and ambience more than special effects but it appears in Scott’s attempt to touch up the latter of these things he decided to strip away the parts I would have much rather seen.

This review may seem overly critical and I apologise to all those who adore this film but it just doesn’t adhere to my weird but wonderful tastes.

Jeff Buckley – Grace

Let’s go back in time a little, to the early 90’s when in a small club known as the Sin-e played host to an all but unknown performer. He was bound to have some skills, being the son of the famous folk artist Tim Buckley, so some 25 people turned up and paid the $3 to see him. The performance he then gave over the next 3 hours was deemed good enough to be released unedited, unaltered and purely as it was first recorded on the single track PA system Jeff used. This was a guy who had never released a record before, and struggled to cope with the highs and lows of song writing and performing due to his bipolar syndrome. Despite this, his lack of direction led him to play a string of radically different covers showcasing just what an unbelievable talent this guy was. When placed alongside Jeff’s original compositions and plenty of banter, the 25 strangers who had walked into the bar 3 hours earlier left in the firm belief that Jeff would one day make it big. They were not wrong. That performance is something of a classic, and shows one of the only performances of Jeff that was recorded where he was completely at ease with the audience and himself, and his personality shone through to make his set even more breathtaking.

I consider Jeff Buckley to be one of the greatest Singer/Songwriter/Performers of all time. He simply had everything. He is widely considered to be the best singer technically since the days of the Rat Pack, and his guitar work is varied but progressive. He didn’t knock up a song in a matter of minutes; his works were more compositions with no note out of place, steadily evolving lyrically and musically as Jeff’s ideas and ideals changed.

The sum of all these factors culminated into my favourite album of all time, “Grace”. Here Jeff showcased every ounce of his talent, in a somewhat unprecedented studio performance, with passion dripping from every note he trilled his way through a series of his own songs, with three cover versions also thrown into the mix. Jeff’s cover of the extremely popular song “Hallelujah” originally written by Leonard Cohen is breathtaking, and his surprising cover of the Medieval hymn, “Corpus Christi Carol” was a true indication of Jeff’s versatility as a performer, and his own compositions we full to brim of gorgeous embellishment. Outside of his core band, Jeff brought in a gospel choir to help him on several tracks most evident on “Lover You Should’ve Come Over” and the added depth and power brought on by this was a masterstroke, breathing yet more passion into the already powerful lyrics.

Jeff was more than a performer. He was a composer and a poet. This album was testament to this. Sadly, Jeff drowned whilst swimming in the Mississippi after a rainstorm up river, and his talent was washed away. Maybe its true the old saying, “Only the good die young…”

For a sample of Jeff’s Talent, simply look here. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HKnxmkOAj88