The Times of Harvey Milk

I know that you cannot live on hope alone, but without it, life is not worth living. And You... And You... And You... Gotta give em hope. Thank You very much.


I liked Gus Van Sant's ''Milk'' but I didn't love it. I just felt as if there was some barrier between myself and the subject matter, possibly the result of a number of dramatic contrivances that really took me out of the film, but also because I didn't really have much of a previous knowledge about Harvey Milk and his political career, and the film ended up leaving me a little bit unsure as to how he went from being a fairly uninteresting stock analyst to a political activist.

None of these problems were present in The Times of Harvey Milk, an Oscar-winning documentary about Milk's life, his philosophy and his death. The documentary is a very respectful tribute to a man who clearly meant a tremendous amount to the people he knew and just as much, if not more, to the millions of gays and lesbians who saw him as a beacon of hope.

Consisting of archive footage, talking head interviews with his friends and colleagues, some of whom were portrayed in Milk and which actually enriches that film since you realise how close some of the performances were to real life, and voiceover from Harvey Fierstein, it lays out in simple but effective terms who Harvey Milk was, how he got involved in politics and how he operated in the political arena, what he meant to the gay community but also, and this was something which I think Milk failed to get across, what he meant to people from other minorities and communities in San Francisco.

For fear of this review falling into the same pitfalls I accused Milk of falling into, let's establish who Harvey Milk was. Harvey Milk was a gay activist who became the first openly gay elected official in U.S. history. He served for 11 months on the San Francisco board of district supervisors, in that time spearheaded a campaign against Proposition 6, a hateful doctrine that would have seen gay teachers, and their supporters, fired from schools for being gay, and, on November 27, 1978, he was assassinated, along with Mayor George Moscone, by Dan White, a supervisor who had resigned and who had been denied the opportunity to take back his position. He was 48.

In this film, Harvey Milk emerges as a champion not only of gay causes, but also of those of ethnic minorities, the elderly, disabled people, anyone who he felt was not being represented. Even though the film runs the risk of portraying him as an opportunist, the interviews with Harvey show that he was an affable, passionate campaigner for whoever he felt needed to be campaigned for, it just so happened that he had a knack for media manipulation.

The film’s portrayal of Dan White and his relationship with Harvey Milk is quite interesting since it seems oddly distant. He is vilified by the participants and much of the archive footage that is used, but the film-makers seem to want to keep an editorial neutrality to proceedings, lest their own feelings colour the work. It’s a decision that pays off in spades, though, as the anger of the interviewees becomes more powerful when the film just lets them talk and doesn’t try to impose itself upon the audience.

I was also glad to see that there was no suggestion, as there was in Milk, that White may have been a repressed homosexual. It’s a psychologically interesting take, there’s no question of that, but the way in which Milk overtly stated it seemed like a cheap trick to me and one which edged Dan White dangerously close to caricature.

Another thing that this film has over Milk (I feel somewhat bad poking holes in a film I like, but I couldn't watch this and not think of the other film on the same subject) is that it is manages to be panegyric without being soporific, which at times is what Milk winds up being. Having such a straight-forward, unfussy approach to its subject (there is almost no music used throughout and the style is very sedate and calm) gives it the feel of a beautiful eulogy rather than of someone wailing in sorrow at the pulpit.

Finally, the film gets across, in Harvey's own words, what it was that he was fighting for and what his views on humanity were. It gives you a sense that he was a remarkable man who was funny, committed and who had a nearly endless compassion to those around him. It's a beautiful portrait that mixes the obvious sadness of the man's death with an optimism that suggests that his message and beliefs will never die.

Star Trek

I like this ship! It's exciting!



The film opens with a stunning action set piece in which a Federation ship encounters that of Nero (Eric Bana), a Romulan who seems to have access to technology far in advance of anything the Starfleet vessel has. The two quickly engage in combat, and George Kirk (Chris Hemsworth) is placed in charge. He is forced to stay on the ship, and dies in order that the others on-board will be able to escape, including his wife and newborn son. Fast forward twenty-odd years, and the young James Tiberius Kirk (Chris Pine) is something of a tearaway who gets drunk, steals cars and gets into fights. He is recruited by Captain Pike (Bruce Greenwood), and enters into the academy, intent on becoming a member of Starfleet, and perhaps finding meaning in his life. Along the way, he meets a bunch of strangely familiar faces.

There is such a fabulous energy to Star Trek that you quickly forget all preconceptions of what a Star Trek film can be (ponderous, preachy, predictable) and realise what a Star Trek film should be (playful, postmodern, preposterous). There are plenty of nods to the original in the dialogue of the characters (''Damnit Jim! I'm a doctor, not a physicist!'') but it also very subtly satirises pre-conceived notions of Star Trek; Kirk gets it on with a green woman, Scotty has a ridiculous accent and an over-eager red shirt dies spectacularly.

A lot of the humour of the film derives from its ability to pitch self-referential gags at both fans and non-fans, but it is not content to rely on good will and gentle parody; it's also got some terrific character dynamics. The friendship between Kirk and McCoy (Karl Urban), in particular, maintains a level of prickly amiability, with the two often getting on each others' nerves or getting the other in to trouble, that results in some of the film's funniest moments, including Kirk suffering from the aftereffects of a drug given to him by McCoy, and McCoy spouting pessimistic fears about space travel to Kirk as soon as they get on a shuttle together.

Chris Pine is every bit as brash and arrogant as a young Kirk should be, but without the obvious dickishness that Shatner oozed, and Zachary Quinto is as conflicted as a young Spock should be; caught between two worlds, unsure whether to let emotion or logic rule his mind. Elsewhere, Simon Pegg is daft and likable as Scotty and, in deference to tradition, he throws in a ridiculous Scottish accent, something he shares with Anton Yelchin, as a sparky young Chekov, whilst Zoe Saldana makes for a very sexy Uhura. It is the ability of the cast members to inhabit their iconic roles yet give them their own spin that makes them such fun to watch. It's a triumph of casting and I dearly hope that all of them return for the sequel.

J.J. Abrams, in only his second outing as a director after the better-than-it-had-any-right-to-be Mission Impossible 3, delivers action and spectacle that more than matches the playfulness of the writing and the charm of the cast. The action sequences are stunning to behold, with a wit and verve to them that you just don't see in most big budget blockbusters. One sequence, in which Kirk, Sulu (John Cho) and a red shirt freefall from a great height to a tiny platform, then engage in a scrappy hand-to-hand fight sequence, is funny, exhilarating and genuinely tense as, for fear of giving anything away, they are trying to save a world from destruction and it's not clear that they will succeed. To get that sense of dread and fear in an established franchise in which you know who is going to survive is a real achievement.

At this point I should offer up some negatives, but I am struggling to think of any. Eric Bana is not the strongest villain, but that's not something that the series has ever been known for, there are plot holes big enough to fly a Constitution Class starship through, and fans may be annoyed by the liberties that are taken with various aspects of the established universe. But it's so much fun that I really think that only a true humbug would say that they ruin the film, because Star Trek is as enjoyable, intelligent and exciting a film as you will see all summer.

Synecdoche, New York

Why do I have to make things so complicated?



Charlie Kaufman has spent the last decade penning some of the most esoteric films to ever emerge from Hollywood. He has repeatedly demonstrated his ability to take unusual ideas (Being John Malkovich), obtuse ideas (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind) and unfilmable ideas (Adaptation) and making them funny, insightful and accessible to a mainstream audience but which somehow remain intelligent and provocative. Synecdoche (Si-NECK-doh-kee), New York, his debut as director, further demonstrates his strengths as a writer, but suggests that up to now his skill has been as a collaborator, rather than a singular talent.

The story follows Caden Cotard (Philip Seymour Hoffman), a theatre director who lives in Schenectady, New York. Despite the acclaim that his work has received, Caden feels that his work lacks 'truth', and this forms part of the general malaise of his life; he is in a loveless marriage, he may be dying from a non-specific disease, and everywhere he looks he sees signs of his mortality. Then, Caden receives a grant to do whatever he wants and he begins a grand project; to build a scale-replica of New York in a large warehouse and populate it with actors.

Let's get the following out of the way; the acting in Synecdoche, New York is, across the board, wonderful. Philip Seymour Hoffman, despite playing a rather unlikeable character, is magnetic, and the largely female supporting cast that mill around Caden Cotard are all on top form. Samantha Morton, in particular, is heartbreaking as a woman that Caden pursues over a number of years, and the chemistry that exists between the two of them provides a solid basis for the rest of the film to revolve around. It has one of the best ensemble casts I've ever seen in a film.

In comparing Synecdoche, New York with his other work, the first thing that you notice is that it is the most dreamlike film that Charlie Kaufman has been involved with. The other films he has written have been tales of extraordinary occurrences in otherwise realistic worlds (in fact, it's strange to think that Michel Gondry, whose work has since traveled down a path of unfettered whimsy, should have been the director to create the most realistic world within which to set one of Kaufman's scripts). Synecdoche, by comparison, is a film that exists in a world every bit as strange and dreamlike as the central premise. The film feels very much like a dream that the audience has somehow stumbled into.

Unfortunately, this somnambulist atmosphere extends to most aspects of the film. The first hour moves at such a languid pace that it almost lulls you to sleep by the time it gets to the warehouse. Kaufman spends such a long time describing how depressing and empty Caden's life is that the film ends up feeling depressing and empty. I couldn't help but think that if Spike Jonze had directed the film, as was originally intended, he would have got to the warehouse much quicker and the funny, interesting part of the film would have arrived much more quickly.

For the problem with Synecdoche is that it is so slow and digressive that it loses focus; its themes and ideas are so big and dense, yet the execution is so distracted and diffuse that the film loses sight of what its actually about. It is about death, dating, everything, but too often it wanders off and becomes about nothing. It would be very easy to write Synecdoche, New York off as the indulgence of a first-time director with too much freedom. It's almost tempting to say that it is, in that least descriptive and unhelpful of terms, a mess.

And yet...

And yet the insights that the film has about death, dating and everything are so powerful, and the flashes of genius that break through the murk are so blindingly bright that I can never discount it. It's a mess, it's self-indulgent, it's too long, but it is about something, it has something to say and it does so with conviction. When it finally reveals itself and divulges what its message is, it almost absolves it of all the problems that previously plagued it. Almost.

Synecdoche, New York is a film that will divide people. You will either discount it completely, or it will stay with you. You may even think it's a masterpiece. I don't think it is, but there is the shadow of a masterpiece there.

Wanted

I can't even think of a sub-title. I'm that confounded by the whole thing.



Timur Bekmambetov (ha, got it in one without checking) is often derisively referred to as The Russian Michael Bay. I can't help but think that this is an erroneous analogy, since Michael Bay is nowhere near as interesting and, based on his films, downright insane as Timur Bekmambetov. Bay's films, ludicrous as they are, at least seem acquainted with logic, or to at least have heard of it somewhere, and Bekmambetov's films have no such relationship; they're bullets that curve around the hanging pig of logic and sense, intended to land squarely in the target realm of ''What the fuck?''

And that tortured metaphor brings me to Wanted, which plants its flag squarely in the realm of ''What the fuck?'' very early on, and doesn't leave until it's done. James McAvoy is Wesley, an office worker with literally nothing going for him who is told by a sexy female assassin (Angelina Jolie) that his father, recently shot through the head (and then rewound) by Cross (Thomas Kretschmann), was one of the world's greatest assassins, part of a Fraternity headed by Sloan (Morgan Freeman). Wesley is initiated into The Fraternity, an initiation that seems to revolve almost solely around him getting the shit kicked/stabbed out of him, before being unleashed to hunt down Cross.

Let's get it out of the way: Wanted is a stupid film. A stupid, stupid, stupid film. It's a film in which people can bend bullets, slow down time so much that they can shoot a man from a moving train, and shoot bullets out of the air with other bullets. It throws ludicrous action sequence after ludicrous action sequence at its audience, practically begging them to have an aneurysm from trying to make sense of the sheer madness of it all. Every other minute there seemed to be a moment that had me forcing myself not to pause the film, take a deep breath, then try to figure out what world could allow a film so mindbogglingly dumb to exist. Cars crash into each other, sending one car flying through the air over another car, at which point the person in the car flying through the air, shoots someone else in a car beneath them. That is the level of ludicrousness that the film operates at and I did wonder if Timur Bekmambetov had ever seen a film (or lived on Earth) before he started making them. That level of visual weirdness is just not commensurate with someone who exists on the same plain as everyone else.

As much as I tried to fight it, though, the stupidity of the film, carried along by Bekmambetov's undoubted visual flair, charmed me and I eventually just lay back and let it wash over me in waves of lurid, moronic violence. I mean, there's just something so surreal and appealing about someone smashing a keyboard across their best friend's face and the keys breaking off to spell the words ''FUCK YOU'' flying through the air.

The cast didn't hurt, either. As well as the above named players, all of whom I like, it's also got Common and Terence Stamp in supporting roles, and the main cast do certainly do their best with what is a really awful script. Just look at Morgan Freeman's face when he has to spout some of Sloan's excruciating philosophies; he clearly realises that what he is saying is nonsense, but he's really giving it his all.

It's trash but at least it knows that it's trash and has no pretenses to anything else (apart from the sub-Fight Club voiceover about the inanity of office life, but that's just a vestige from the awful, AWFUL comic book that it's adapted from, which it at least has the good sense to move away from for the most part). It is a piece of crap that's a so monumentally stupid and weird that I couldn't help but like it.

Sounds Like Teen Spirit

''When I'm on-stage, I really hope I'm gonna make my dad proud because, if he's watching, that means he cares.''


We all know about Eurovision, that bewildering and hypnotic yearly exercise in bright colours, political voting and irony, but what may not be known about (in the U.K., at least) is Junior Eurovision, a contest for under-15s that is a huge phenomenon on the continent.

Filmed over several months, covering both the lead up to the competition and the event itself, Sounds Like Teen Spirit film introduces us to a sampling of the competitors, giving us an insight into their home lives and what it is that has driven them to compete in Junior Eurovision.

From Belgium, with have Trust, a group of talented musicians who specialise in synth-laden pop ballads; from Cyprus comes Giorgos, an angelic young boy who dreams of singing opera; Bulgaria gives us Marina, a Buffy fan who forms part of the group 'Bon-Bon'; and finally, from Georgia, comes Mariam.

Mariam's story is the key emotional point of the film and, for me, is emblematic of what makes the film work so very, very well and why it is ultimately so affecting. The other contestants come from fairly privileged backgrounds; they have private tutors, pools and access to high-quality musical instruments; Mariam lives in a tumble-down tenement building with her mother (who can't afford to travel with her to the competition) and young brother. She has triumphed through sheer ability and she becomes something of a national hero to her fellow Georgians since she will be representing them on an international level, and she truly believes in her responsibilities as a representative of her nation.

It's the lack of cynicism that makes the film so refreshing. All the children involved are so excited about their opportunity, with no shred of calculation of irony in them, that you can't help but be swept along in their wake. Each of them is shown to be just a normal, nice kid that gets to perform in front of millions of people and is having a blast doing it. At the same time, you have the Mariam Factor; each of the kids is dealing with their own personal issues (Giorgos is bullied; Marina's parents are splitting up) so you get an insight into what drives them to succeed that a more superficial documentary might have ignored, and a more cynical documentary might have played up to nauseating effect. Director Jamie Jay Johnson maintains a perfect balance between youthful exuberance and adolescent introspection so that the kids feel real and sympathetic without being either cloyingly precocious or annoyingly self-involved.

They're also incredibly funny and charming individuals. They're all natural entertainers, that much is evident from their performances on stage, and that comes across in their interviews, which consist largely of wide-eyed musings on fame, family and life. These candid, funny moments are what make the more affecting moments so effective since they allow the kids to just be themselves and therein lies their charm. Without that sense of connection between the audience and the kids, the film just wouldn't work on the same level that it does. Without that, the ''Winner Takes It All'' montage (one of the most tense, heartbreaking and elating moments I've seen in a film this year) would seem crass, but instead it is glorious.

The documentary itself is unfussy and unpretentious, letting the kids talk for themselves and drive the story that way. There are attempts to contextualise the competition within the greater history of European conflict, and these are functional but a touch too grandiose for the rest of the film, but that's the one bum note in a perfect composition.

If I were to sum up Sounds Like Teen Spirit in a single word, it would be ''surprising''. Or ''surprisingly''. It's a film which is surprisingly funny, surprisingly touching, surprisingly moving and surprisingly brilliant. It's a film that creeps up on you, to the extent that you feel that you have been tricked into liking it, because, despite whatever misgivings you have about a film about Junior Eurovision, it will win you over in the end. It's an absolute joy to behold and is one of the most enjoyable films I've seen so far this year.