Darlings vs Discs

Right now the mini-mes are winning. It's a delicate balance between trying to encourage my children to enjoy our CD and DVD collection, while ensuring the little monsters cherubs don't destroy them in the process. Charlotte has recently developed a fondness for Bohemian Rhapsody, and the other morning I discovered both sisters dancing away happily to this Soundgarden track, which is good. I like.

There have been casualties though, mostly due to the inherent difficulty factor for little fingers getting discs out of their cases, and associated leverage issues.

This Muppet Show DVD looks fine right?

Wrong. . .

It gets worse.

Much, much worse.

Having introduced Charlotte to the first Star Wars over the summer, (Ep IV, we do not talk about that other trilogy that happened)  we thought she was ready for Episode V, and the reveal of reveals contained therein. We even had a camera ready. Then we went to put the DVD in the player, and found this. Can you see the problem?

Luke's response to Vader's daddy revelation seemed appropriate at this point. Not that we could WATCH it.

Witness statements as to who jumped the gun (both adults being out of the room at the time) were inconclusive. . .

Charlotte still hasn't seen The Empire Strikes Back.

Nativity Subjects

Charlotte re-arranged the nativity scene so everyone could watch The Lion King* with her.
By the looks of it just in time for them to be subjected to Simba's deranged REIGN OF TERROR...
*We are in a "Lion King" phase, after a long "Bambi" phase. I thought Bambi was bad, but this is worse. The "Finding Nemo" phase on the other hand wasn't so bad. That movie I actually enjoy :)

The Fanboys vs George Lucas.

Jean-Luc didn't like the opening scenes of 'The Phantom Menace' either...

The at times wonderful, at times strange, and at times completely dysfunctional relationship between the legacy of Star Wars, it's fans, and it's creator was one of the main themes of a documentary I saw on the weekend, "The People vs George Lucas":

It was fun. The documentary is squarely aimed at fans rather than casual viewers not quite as intimately knowledgeable of the franchise, and uses the fan relationship to examine in a wider sense just what Star Wars is now, and how many fans feel miffed about what happened to their favourite franchise and George Lucas himself (although in the documentary he only appears in clips from archival interviews, contributing to a noticeable lack of input or commentary from anyone involved in the current Lucasfilm hierarchy).

For many if not most fans the six film Star Wars saga can generally be seen one of two ways; as a complete epic work, or as two quite different trilogies, separate in time, space and vision. There is the 'original' (although just what constitutes 'original', and how it has seemingly been redefined is another key theme of the doco) 1976-1983 trilogy, and then there is, umm, the other one, of pre-sequels that some love, some hate, and many love to hate.

My interaction as a Star Wars fan centres around the classic first three movies that have been influencing pop culture ever since they were released three decades ago. I am aware of the other stuff in the canon, read a few of the novels, know a lot of the lore, but haven't really kept up with the non-movie based stuff that is out there.

I feel a bit privileged to be a part of the generation that saw the original originals on that first cinematic release. I was born in 1976, so missed the first one, but definitely saw 'The Empire Strikes Back' in 1980 or so, and remember seeing 'Return of the Jedi' twice in 1983 (at the St James when it was a cinema, and at a long defunct cinema in Naenae). I was perfectly placed to catch what was left of the merchandising wave as it ebbed into the mid 80's, and perfectly placed again to participate in the mid 90's revival of interest in the franchise, now armed with some spending power to grab some of the things I would have lusted after but couldn't have a decade before. Like T-shirts for one...

Like a lot of others, the universe realised on screen wasn't one I merely wanted to watch, it was one I wanted to live in. I particularly wanted a speederbike I could ride to school. I also perfected the art of lightsabreing Agapanthis stalks with a bamboo stick, to my mum's horror. I instantly, and forevermore preferred it to the Star Trek alternative in its various incarnations, which always looked just a little too clean and perfect. Star Wars on the other hand looked like it was filmed on location in a grungy, scruffy, lived in and imperfect series of worlds and vehicles.

When the films were re-released in the intended-at-the-time-to-be definitive Special Editions I was so happy to see them on the big screen again I overlooked the worst of the tinkerings, and enjoyed the best. It was a good time to be a fan.

The pre LOTR makeover Embassy, Wellington 1997

As time passed though, a few of the 'improvements' quickly became a bit less appreciated, and a few became downright cringeworthy. In this imperfect atmosphere the new films were eagerly awaited (I remember downloading the 'Phantom Menace' trailer on a painfully slow, overloaded dial-up connection, and being very excited to finally see it after an hour or so of hoping the connection didn't crash), with the fervent hope and expectation that they be great, only to be slightly underwhelmed when they arrived.

In hindsight living up to their predecessors was an impossible task, but the prequels wound up feeling a bit adequate and a bit perfunctory, not terrible but missing the opportunity to be awesome (and with not that many tweaks, they could have been awesome). Some great moments and scenes, great technical achievements, some great action sequences (and for all his charges, I think he is still a great and under-rated action director), but little heart, thrill, or immersion, terrible dialogue, canon-derailing plot devices, character and plot miscues, good actors looking like amateurs, and overall feeling only special because they were Star Wars movies. A lot of people were left wondering where it all went wrong. And to an extent I think, missing the point.

Putting aside the arguments over creative direction, actual direction-direction of the new films and the continued tinkering with, and mysterious unavailability on a licenced modern format of the first-release cuts of the original films (and on the case presented I am inclined to think Lucas is probably guilty of the various things the documentary makers charge here), we fell in love with the originals as children. Relating to the re-imagined original trilogy, and the new films in the same way was always going to be impossible as adults. And here's the thing; if I was seven years old again, I would probably love the prequels just as much as I do their older siblings, which aren't without their flaws either if I am honest.

Lucas says the prequels were aimed at kids, and thus a new generation of fans (and/or merchandising opportunities if you are cynical), and while some could see this as a backpedalling cop-out, the appeal of the newer films to a younger audience is undeniable. I hate Jar-Jar Binks as much as any other fan, and I cringe these days whenever the similarly roled Ewoks from 'Return of the Jedi' are on screen. In 1983 though, I loved the Ewoks. Somewhat tragically/fortunately though I never got around to seeing 'Caravan of Courage' (as an aside the Ewok battle in ROTJ reminds me of just how casually ultraviolent-in-a-sanitised-way the Star Wars universe really is, a theme continued in the non-movie canon and lore as well). I wonder if in ten or twenty years time the prequels will be critically reassessed and held in slightly higher regard than they are now. I haven't tried it, but according to some they apparently they work better if watched in an epic Ep I through VI back to back session.

I can see the point of view of some that the revisions and additions have despoiled their relationship with the movies (including the absurd and slightly offensive 'George Lucas raped my childhood' song seen in the trailer), but can't agree with it for myself. Whatever the films represent now doesn't affect my memories of letting my enthralled imagination run wild with George Lucas' ideas in the slightest, which one interviewee in the movie rightly points out. The fun I had then, and still have with it is untouchable.

This ramble has turned out to be more about my relationship with the movies than the documentary, but that just goes to show that even after all that has gone on, there is still some magic to be had. The documentary while not without it's own flaws, works well at reminding the viewer of this, and in my mind while ostensibly hostile to Lucas, goes a long way towards at least illustrating his position if not partially exonerating him (even if perhaps unintentionally). That it even exists is a reminder of just how powerful, influential and inspirational cinema, and this franchise in particular can be. There might be a lot of rabid passion and hatred from the fans out there, but it is rooted in a kind of love.

And for the record, Han will always shoot first.

PS: Fi, Kate and Rich saw the documentary with me, and the latter has composed a much more considered and insightful review post than mine here.

Not that much better than Avatar

Warning, Spoilers dead ahead!

I finally saw 'The Hurt Locker' after much anticipation the other night. The basic plot (apparently loosely based on a true account by an embedded journalist) follows a three man Explosive Ordinance Disposal (EOD, basically guys that defuse bombs) team trying to get through the remainder of their tour in Baghdad after the trusted leader of the team is killed and replaced by an unorthodox adrenalin junkie.

Since it won Best Picture and all, I was interested to see if it was worthy of the hype. And if it was better than Avatar. Or Up. Or District 9, or the other nominees.

I'm not sure it is to be honest. It does some things very well. And does some other things really badly. I hated the cinematography, which was nauseatingly wobbly and zoomy to the point I actually got motion sickness and had to turn away from the screen for the second half of the movie, snatching occasional glances when I thought my stomach could stand it. I understand why handheld cameras are used, I appreciate the intimacy and feel it provides for the viewer and normally it doesn't bother me so much, but it was complete overkill the way they are used in this film, with jumpy quick pans and zooms everywhere, in almost every shot.

Where this film excels is in evoking the tension, dread, paranoia and the anything-could-happen-at-anytime-and-when-it-does-it-will-be-bad feeling of being part of an occupying force in the middle of an insurgency. The scenes on the streets of Baghdad where not only anyone, but possibly everyone might be out to get the protagonists while they are defusing improvised explosives in the streets are completely captivating. The three main protagonists are wholly convincing in their roles, and the way they interact with each other, doing a dangerous job, usually with an audience of local citizens ranging from the curious, apathetic, suspicious to openly hostile never fails to convince. It is one of the best depictions of unglamourous, dirty front line everyday soldiering I've seen so much so, that when the focus moves to more relatively domestic scenes back at the secure base camp, the pace and engagement noticeably flags.

The devil for this movie is in the details though. While the action scenes are superb, the contrivances and plot holes to engineer some of them and drive the movie forward are not. Moreover, for a film that seems to be trying very hard to present itself as an accurate depiction of this particular aspect of modern warfare, based on what I have read, it just isn't. I've never been in anyone's military, and wouldn't even claim to be well informed on specifics of weapons and tactics, but I do have a lifelong interest in these things, and based on what I have learned around the subject, there are a lot of things depicted on screen that go beyond implausible to flat out would-not-happen, or just don't make any sense (the sniper duel in the middle of the film is a perfect example, a scene that encapsulates both the best and worst aspects of the film). At times the film doesn't even adhere to its own internal logic and rules.

I accept the need for fictionalisation and license to be taken for dramtic purposes (even if this assumes that bomb disposal work isn't dramatic enough), and most of the time it doesn't bother me. I wouldn't comment on it except for the fact that this movie seems to be trading on being an accurate (albeit fictionalised) depiction of 'the way things were' (it is set in 2004), and that a lot of the audience will probably perceive it that way. The general opinion of the film amongst those who have actually been there and done the things portrayed seems to be very low because of the numerous and glaring inaccuracies.

I respect that this film doesn't treat its audience like idiots who need to be explicitly told every detail of exposition and set up, but at times this approach is taken too far (like the camera work), and leads to assumptions and presumptions being required by the audience that are often false, which is quite annoying when you are aware of it, and breaks the immersion into the film.

So basically when it is good, it is really really good, but it is also quite flawed. It is better than main rival Avatar, but I'm not sure it is 'Best Picture' good either. I thought fellow nominee UP was a better film than both of them at times.

The Judger saw it with me, if you want his take on the film, here 'tis.

Avatar abridged (may contain spoilers)

Not entirely accurate, but fun all the same. Click to read:

Having seen Avatar in 3D last week, I suppose comment is almost obligatory. There has been a wide range of reaction to the film I have seen, ranging from ecstatic to downright derogartory.

I liked Avatar. The plot is both recycled (mainly from Dances With Wolves), and paper thin, and signposted in big flashing neon, with characters painted from the broadest sterotypical brushes, but if you are going to get hung up on those things with this movie, you are both coming at it from the wrong angle and over-reading it. This is meant to be big concept sci-fi escapist entertainment, not an insightful commentary on the effects of colonialism and exploitation on indigenous societies. While those aspects are present rightly or wrongly, they aren't the raison d'etre, and focussing on them I think is taking things too seriously.

The plot exists as a vehicle for the spectacle, and as far as spectacle goes, Avatar is seriously epic. While it isn't entirely made of awesome, it is never actually bad, and can rightly be regarded as a standard setter in a technical and production sense.

The virtual realisation of Pandora is so good it resulted in total immersion and suspension of disbelief for me, especially in 3D. A lot of the time I forgot that the environment and characters on screen was totally CG, and this is the film's greatest achievement. At times this is spectacular, and never less than impressive.

More importantly, the CG allowed the Na'vi characters to be realised much more effectively and seamlessly. Its a simple concept but I enjoyed immensely the fact of the Na'vi being 9 feet tall (only fully apparent when appearing alongside humans), since it emphasised their otherworldliness subtly without being dramatic.

There is a lot of detail and subtlety on screen (in fact probably too much, the film could probably easily be an hour shorter, and has pacing issues at times). I liked a lot of the smaller details (even when they were wrong, like Dr Augustine's terrible pipette technique in the background of one of Sully's diary pieces to camera), some simply for the fact they were there (like removing the engine covers from the helicopter during the escape scene. It might have only been for dramatic reasons, but it highlighted nicely that you very seldom jump into aircraft and make them go, especially if they have been bedded down for the night).

Like others I think Sully's assimilation into Na'vi society was a little too quick. A year rather than 3 months could have been allotted to this without the film suffering from it. I don't have an issue with his crucial plot point insights though like other reviewers have. His way of thinking compared to the Na'vi will by definition be alien. Its not impossible for him to come up with things that may never have occured to his hosts (and lets face it, how often have you had another pair of eyes bring a solution to a problem that was obvious in hindsight).

Its a long way from perfect, but for all its flaws, Avatar works, and works spectacularly well at times. Worth seeing for the imagery alone.

Alternative (and dare I say it slightly more lucid and analytical) viewpoints from the Judge here, and the Morgue here.

Film Festival Wrap Up #5

Moon (2009)

And finally we get to the final film (which was actually the first) of the festival, which I saw way back on July 18th, with Notkate and the Judge (which sounds like some sort of 80's TV cop buddy show).

Moon is based around the character of Sam (played by Sam Rockwell - must have made getting into character easier. In terms of screen time he is the only major character) as he nears the end of his three year shift tending a helium mining facility on the moon. He has spent his three years alone, devoid of physical contact with any other human, companionship provided only by video links with his wife and child, and the ever attendant robot helper (charmingly voiced by Kevin Spacey, and thoughtfully and cleverly constructed as a prop). He has become a little eccentric during his time alone, but his stint is nearly over and he is looking forward to going home. At which point things start happening which suggest he is perhaps not as alone as he has been led to believe...

And thats about all I can say about the plot without giving anything away. The viewer learns more about Sam's situation as he does, and little clues and hints that all is not as it seems abound for the attentive, as well as some nice bits of subtle humour. There are also some nice low key references to classic sci fi films and TV.

Sam's moonbase world was brilliantly realised, grimy and grungy and instantly believable, and pretty much instantly informing the viewer that while Sam is technically an astronaut, he is also an employee with a difficult and tedious job to do, with any glamour long since gone. I enjoyed the use of models for the external scenes rather than CGI (perhaps in homage to classic hard Sci Fi predecessors like 2001). Good model work always looks good, whereas rubbish CGI is like an elephant in the room.

The film is well paced, with key plot points dispensed sparingly and only when necessary (hints aside). Things play out slowly, but not so slowly as to cause loss if interest, with a genuine suspenseful 'what happens now' feel by the end of the second act. Another thing I liked is while the film has some proper points to make, it delivers them simply and effectively, a reflection of the feeling that the film doesn't take itself too seriously.

Recommended for those wanting a low key but engaging and suspenseful watch, executed with intelligence and style.

NotKates summation here (link)
The Judges sermon here (link)

Film Festival Wrap Up#4

Listening to: PJ Harvey - Stories from the city, stories from the sea

Wake In Fright (1970)

I admittedly didn't know the story of this 'Lost Australian Classic', but the premise sounded interesting. Cultured, educated man finds himself trapped in the cultural wasteland of a small town in the Australian outback. It plays out like a more extreme, apocalyptically booze drenched version of 'Groundhog Day', twenty something years earlier and with more epic scenery, in vivid technicolour.

The opening shot establishes the tone perfectly. A long slow 360 degree pan over a two building settlement in the desert. The buildings are a Pub/Hotel and a one room schoolhouse, between them a railway line stretching to a barren horizon in both directions.

There is no greenery, no shade, no flinching at showing how bleak the desert can be. The central character is the teacher at the schoolhouse. Bonded to pay for his education, he isn't there by choice, and plans to travel to Sydney to spend Christmas with his girlfriend. On the way he must overnight in the mining town of Bundanyabba (played by the mining town of Broken Hill. Yes, that Broken Hill). Befriended by the local cop, he stumbles on a way to pay off his bond, which ultimately fails and leaves him penniless and stranded in the 'Yabba. Initially horrified by the binge drinking, brawling and hard partying nature of the town, the film follows his attempts to maintain his principles and not descend into the madness around him. While making the point that the landscape is not the only desert to be found here, it is also rubbed home that there is a beast to be unleashed within even the most cultured soul.

It's interesting not only for the plot, but for the film itself. While ostensibly a work of fiction, at times it is hard to tell. Released only six years before I was born, I enjoyed a lot of the period details. And while Australia and New Zealand are ultimately very different cultures, there are some recognisable shared references in the movie, particularly in the depiction of the male oriented booze culture of the sixties and seventies (there are only three female characters in the movie, two not particularly flattering and the third only a photograph to be idolised from a distance).

Alcohol is as much a character in this movie as any of the actors. No-one in 'yabba drinks for fun. They drink because everybody else does, and there is nothing else to do. The bar stays open long after its legal closing hour, which doesn't matter because the cops are inside chopping down the drinks with the rest of the punters. Beer is not sipped or savoured here; it is drained in one pull from a small glass, which is immediately replaced or refilled. Empties are lined up along the bar and filled en-masse from a hose for industrialised drinking. No one cares about the flavour. I had heard about this behaviour in relation to a recent part of New Zealand history known as the Six O'clock Swill, but never seen what it looked like in real life. The bar scenes were filmed on location, and feel more documentary than fiction (also documentary feeling are the Two up gaming scenes where our protagonist loses all his money). One of the best lines in the film belongs to the town's alcoholic doctor. In Sydney his alcoholism was a liability, but out here it just means he blends in with the crowd.

Drinking and partying is exercised without restraint until the participants are unconscious, from the drink or from the brawling. And when they awake they pick up where they left off. The Teacher tries to stay aloof at first, but is steadily corrupted by the environment (or the environment just exposes his high minded pretension, which ever you prefer), eventually abandoning himself to the alcoholic orgy and brutality. In a moment of clarity he realises what is happening to him and the rest of the film centres around his increasingly desperate and futile attempts to escape both the town and the culture.

Its not a film for the faint hearted, and still relevant in the context of the continued prevalence of binge drinking in particular in New Zealand. While having a lot to say, it is never preachy, and is remarkably undated for its age. Well worth seeing

Film Festival Wrap Up #3

Listening to: Husker Du - Candy Apple Grey

Adventureland (2009)

Set in the summer of 1987, this is a wistful and endearing take on young romance set against the background of minimum wage summer jobs at the themepark of the title. The story centres around James, forced to work at the park after his summer plans to tour europe fall through.
At the park he meets a usual suspects crowd of coworkers, all with their own stories to tell. Eventually he notices park veteran Em, and what follows is a fairly tried and true tale of boy meets girl, they fall in love, fall out of love, then find each other again. Its a bit more complicated than that, but I don't want to rehash the entire plot.
The story may be familiar, but it is very well realised. Although set in real time, the movie evokes a feeling of events being recalled years later. It certainly got me thinking of times and relationships past, of the things that worked out, and the ones that all ended in tears, of the mistakes and misunderstandings, and the things you would change if you could. The cast realises the awkward teenage experience of thinking you have everything sorted, then finding out you don't really well. There are some great and exactly right touching moments.
Comparison's to the legendary 70's teenager epic Dazed and Confused are perhaps inevitable, but they are very different movies in scope and concept, although neither are particularly tied to their chronological setting; they both could be set anytime in the last 30 years.
It's not a perfect film. There are a couple of potentially significant but blink and you'll miss it underdeveloped plot and character arcs, and the ending is a little contrived and maybe unrealistic.
Overall though its a great little quiet achievement of a movie and I really enjoyed it. And the soundtrack is damn near perfect.

Other takes from viewing buddies Rich and NotKate here and here

Film Festival Wrap Up #2

Listening to: All of this and nothing - The Psychedelic Furs

We Live in Public (2009)

Or the one that I didn't actually see. I was supposed to see it with Kate and Rich, who have summarised it here, and here.

I'm not sure I should try and summarise something I didn't see, but it is supposed to about one of the early proponents of putting your life on public display via the internet. Anyway the blurb in the guide made it sound interesting.

Unfortunately, at the time I was supposed to be meeting at the theatre I was waiting in the emergency department with Fi and Charlotte, trying to figure out if Charlotte's cold was a recurrence of her broncholitis, or just a cold (turning out to be the latter). We left the hospital about ten minutes after the film started (oh, and about 12 miles from the theatre).

I'm disappointed, but ultimately not too fussed about missing out, since I was doing something more important, and the film will probably get a general release in coming months anyway.

Much of the commentary about the film has centred about how much of our lives we live on-line, and how much is too much. Like others, this caused me to think about my own level of internet exposure.

I have a blog, a facebook account, and actively contribute to two or three forums under pseudonyms. I like my anonymity, but conversely don't put anything on-line I can't defend. I don't troll, and avoid flame wars.

I've got two general rules for defining what I post on line (there are a few specific ones as well):
1. Not only can everyone see what you post, anyone can. There are no private conversations in public arenas.
2. Don't post anything you wouldn't be comfortable telling a room full of strangers, friends and family.

Obviously, this means there are a few things that will never grace the ages of this blog or my facebook account. The facebook is by definition non-anonymous, but I only let friends access it, and I don't friend anyone I wouldn't socialise with in real-life. I employ facebook in its original intent, to stay in touch with friends and facilitate my real social life.

This blog paradoxically is both my least and most anonymous outlet. Least if you know me, most if you have never met me. I have no real idea of how many regular readers there are. I know a lot of my friends and some family check in from time to time, so I generally post with them in mind. Complete strangers (of which there are a few according to sitemeter) might get lost, but then again most of them come here via random google searches anyway. I'd be interested to know if there are any lurking strangers out there, who read but never comment.

I'm comfortable with my level of involvement, mainly because I can take it or leave it as I please. The internet certainly has the potential to take over your life. How much it does is up to you.

2009 Film Festival Wrap up #1

Listening to: Various snippets of Led Zeppelin, U2, and the White Stripes

My Film Festival campaign is now wrapped up. While more of a lightning raid than the full scale epic assault enacted by others (link), I was more than satisfied with what I did see. I bought tickets for five features, got to four of them, which is much better than my average return for the festival.

I'm going to go though these in reverse order, just because its easier that way, and my favourite film of the festival was the one I saw last.

It Might Get Loud (2009)

*There are links all over this thing. Click if you want to know or more importantly hear more.......

I saw this yesterday with Kate, and didn't want it to end. Someone had the idea of getting three great rock guitarists in a studio to talk about their craft, and what drew them to the guitar in the first place. Its simple in concept, but immensely rewarding. The three guitarists brought together were Jimmy Page (Led Zeppelin), The Edge (U2), and Jack White (The White Stripes). As Kate has pointed out in her own excellent summing up here, the three represent different generations, ideologies, and approaches to making music. They also each have quite aurally distinct sounds that make them stand out. Each talked about the sounds and artists and events in their life that inspired them. The film was divided into chapters for each of the three to describe their own experience of the shared evolutionary stages of the way they played, and common experiences, each chapter beginning with the three chatting together, and then moving out to archival footage combined with specifically shot material.
Its no fault of the documentary makers, and probably unavoidable, but in terms of legendary aura the film is definitely (for me anyhow) about Jimmy Page and two other guys.
I came late to Led Zeppelin. Apart from the passing knowledge of 'Stairway to Heaven' common to pretty much every rock fan, I had no great appreciation for Led Zeppelin. I always thought they were a bit too heavy and bogan for me. One winter's evening in 1998, the local alternative music radio station played 'Ramble On' by request. The riff reminded me of some of Pearl Jam's stuff. The link is more than coincidental, since Zeppelin were a big influence on Pearl Jam's sound, something knowingly acknowledged in the Pearl Jam single 'Given to Fly', which borrows heavily from Led Zeppelin's 'Going to California', more in tribute than theft. I picked up a copy of the "Remasters" double disc collection not long afterward. It was around then that I realised that Led Zeppelin was a lot more than a backing group for the consumption of an endless number of bourbon and cokes. They were good, better than good in fact, one of those unique confluences of talent that only occurs perhaps once in a musical generation. Beyond the rock and roll swagger, these guys were seriously talented musicians. So when Page's journey was the first to begin in the film, and introduced with him playing that riff from 'Ramble on' unaccompanied, and I got to understand it in a whole new way, I was hooked. It was a proper rock and roll moment. The film is littered with them. Another one was Page explaining just why he had a custom built double necked guitar: he couldn't play the solo part of 'Stairway to Heaven' live without it, since the break before the guitar solo is played on a different guitar to the solo itself (six vs seven string).
Each artist got a brief introductory part and from then their stories were intertwined, as parallels and contrasts were revealed (like Jack White revealing how he hates the use of technology in music, something The Edge employs enthusiastically to create the sounds he wants).
Whereas Jimmy Page is deservedly a legend, The Edge is more the quiet acheiver and somewhat underrated. U2 (which I am also a big fan of) would simply not be where it is today without him and his sound. He was also the most engaging and drily funny storyteller of the three, like when he related how the riff for 'I will follow' was recorded on a particular guitar; when the producer suggested he use another he couldn't, because it was the only guitar he owned. The Edge was also unafraid to deconstruct his own mythology, demonstrating just how simple the riff for 'Elevation' is when stripped of the effects employed to create what is heard when the song is performed. He also explained the timing structure of 'Where the streets have no name' as being working in both 3+3 or 6+6, which led to a great cut from a clip of the band performing the song to an audience of thousands on the Vertigo tour (a concert I had to sell my tickets for since it clashed with a friends wedding, sigh. I saw them play in 1993 though), to The Edge returning to where they first played to an audience, at their school on a concrete pad smaller than my lounge.
Jack White was the most curious of the three for me. I'm no great fan of The White Stripes (I like a few of their songs, especially 'Icky Thump' and 'Seven Nation Army' but am pretty meh about most of their stuff, and The Raconteurs leave me completely cold). White is the most self consciously artistic of the trio, and also the most image conscious. Perhaps tellingly, White talks about his childhood while roaming around rural blues country Tennessee; only later is it revealed that he grew up in suburban Detroit. This doesn't take anything away from his music or influences, but he does come across as a little insecure and feeling like he has things to prove, mainly to himself. He is a definite counterpoint to the other two more classical rock guitarists. White states quite early on in the piece that one of his ambitions from the meeting is to get Page and Edge to teach him some of their tricks. Another telling, and fascinating part of the film is when Page demonstrates how he used distortion by playing the riff to 'Whole lotta love'; White is visibly trying to stay cool, but "oh my god, Jimmy freakin' Page is playing 'Whole lotta love' right-here-in-front-of-me!" is written all over his face, a look quickly replaced by furious concentration as he tries to decipher Page's technique. The Edge on the other hand is clearly just content to enjoy the awesomeness of the moment.
This film was awesome and instantly earned a place in my top five favourite documentaries. I'd recommend it for anyone with an interest in rock music and why it sounds the way it does, and anyone learning to play guitar. The film doesn't just feature music from the three artists, their influences and inspirations are also given free reign, and it would be a soundtrack well worth picking up.
I left the theatre wanting to see more, and also wanting to go and resume trying to learn to play the guitar I have at home. It's that sort of film.

End of an Era

Listening to: Wild One-The Best of Thin Lizzy.
Drinking: A slightly open too long chardonnay. "Chardon?" "Eh?". Old joke.

First some housekeeping. No computero over the weekendo. Henco, no bloggo. Like I'm the worlds most prolific blogger or something. I will try to make it less than a week before my next post.

The Hoyts Cinema at the South end of High street has finally called it a day. The Judge has more than adequately and very eloquently covered the subject here (linky), but I feel I can't let the passing of a Hutt institution pass without comment, so here we are.

I hate to see a cinema close. It seems strange to refer to it as an institution. It is certainly nothing to look at, inside or out. Generic urban mall architecture, bland and dated to the late 80's when it was designed, and an interior that could pass for any multiplex in the country.
With a place like this, it is the associated memories that make character, not the place itself.
The Hoyts 5 complex with five screens opened in 1992, replacing the single screen Odeon cinema that previously occupied the site. The old Odeon was pretty cool, but getting way past its prime (ironically if it was still extant I expect it would doing great business in the Lighthouse/Empire mould). The entrance to the cinema was in the middle, meaning that the best seats were right above the door, so you had no-one in front of you, could put your feet up, and drop jaffas down the staircase into the foyer. I don't remember the first movie I saw at the Odeon, but I remember the last was The Commitments in 1991.

The first movie I can definitely recall seeing in the new complex was Unforgiven in 1992. In the ensuing 15 or so years, I have probably sat down in one of its cinema seats at least 150 times (or more). Its heyday in the mid to late nineties coincided with my late teens and my own movie renaissance (is that the right word?). In those days I would see at least one movie a week, often two. Good or bad, I was prolific.

Any night of the week would do. Thursdays for the new releases, Fridays and Saturdays for the night out, Sunday nights after church with the youth group cohorts.

No visit would be complete without hitting the attached video arcade beforehand. I got very, very good at Daytona and Sega Rally. Slushy coke and popcorn were also mandatory accessories.

Occasionally Mcdonalds would be smuggled in (avoiding the 'No Hot Food' dictum by being neither hot nor food we reasoned). I remember a hip flask of Khalua being passed up and down the row during a screening of The Three Musketeers, and booking out a couple of rows for the opening night of Independence Day. Going to countless free movies with D3vo, due to his obtaining some super duper pass from somewhere. Saw lots of good stuff for free, saw a lot of rubbish too. Example: Walking out of Timecop, agreeing with each other that it sucked, we checked the board and walked right back in to a late session of Dragon:The Bruce Lee story, which didn't. Going to see The Crow twice in the space of a week, the first time on the night my first girlfriend and I broke up, and the second to exorcise the first so I could get on with enjoying the film. Having a ticket to The Nutty Professor bought for me after I flatly refused to pay to see such tripe. Many good memories.

I remember well the session of Starship Troopers Judge mentions. We were the only ones laughing, and got lots of strange looks from the audience. I also remember going to Last Action Hero with D3vo and also being the only ones laughing.

I miss the late sessions. You could avoid the crowd, and it gave you a really good late night option if whatever else you had planned didn't work out. Plus it was cool having the security guard open the front door for you on the way out.

By the turn of the century though (wow does it feel weird writing that), the good times were slowing, and by halfway through the new decade, they were gone. The shops in the surrounding arcade, never bustling, got even quieter. I always got the feeling the complex was under invested. The decor was alright for 1993, but wasn't updated. Everything got run down, and dare I say it, a little shabby.

When the Skycity complex opened in the refurbished Queensgate Mall in 2006, the axe was being sharpened, if not actually swinging. At the risk of pretension, I'll admit that as soon as I heard about the new mall complex, I said something like "That'll kill Hoyts stone dead".

And so it has come to pass. Rundown and neglected, in feel if not in fact, Hoyts 5 never stood a chance once the shiny newcomer opened up.

And so, while you were ugly and utilitarian, and never cool like hipsters The Paramount, Rialto and Embassy, and unmemorable and uninspiring in your decor and ambience, you were reliable, predictable, and always there if necessary, and because of this I salute you.

The last movies on the marquee: Jumper, Walk Hard, I am Legend, Cloverfield, P.S. I love you, 27 Dresses, Rogue Assassin.