Film
Amidst a tangle of wires, projectors, VCRs, laptops and one huge screen, every nook and cranny of Wadham Old Refectory was filled for the first Wadham College Film Showcase. Originally to be held in the picturesque college gardens, the good old British weather once again had the last laugh.
First up was Glenn Osten Anderson, a film student from New York University. He presented seven films made on celluloid, one of the earliest types of photographic film used by cinematographers, in an attempt to return to the basics of film making. A range of subjects and settings were tackled, reflecting the varied racial and social mix of the filmmakers themselves.
As a result the imagery was simple and raw, yet striking and vivid. Dramatic urban montages of silhouettes and shadows swept across the screen, all the more impressive considering that no artificial lighting was used during filming. The shorts were also shot without sound, meaning Anderson had to go back over them, recreating every bang, creak and groan.
In an age where money and mediocrity govern the nation's cinemas, it was a joy to witness such stylish originality made on such tiny budgets.
The next set of films were all made here in Oxford and included James Santaeularia's Glamour Slap, a humorous yet thought-provoking piece, which challenged traditional social interactions. It was a highly stylised and choreographed short that investigated the action of slapping as an accepted social norm.
The final two films in the programme came from Bristol University. The first, For a Few Tickets More, was an amusing take on For a Few Dollars More, the classic Clint Eastwood Western. Slick production and attention to detail made this piece one of the highlights of the showcase as two rival traffic wardens battle it out for control of the city's parking zones.
The final film, The Ladies, was a documentary following the Bristol University cafeteria dinner ladies for a day's work.
Although it would have been tempting, the director, Elizabeth Dougherty, did not labour over its message, instead combining poignant visual symbolism and honest accounts of life in the kitchen.
The organisers hope to provide a regular outlet for budding filmmakers in Oxford to present their productions in an attractive location and to a receptive audience. With increased funds from colleges, let us hope events like these will encourage students to start filming, and fill the distinct void of quality filmmaking and screenings in Oxford.
This film is a monster of a concept. Take one ageing vampire hunter, take 30 years off his life, kit him up with a range of gas-propelled stake guns and sunlight bombs and pitch him in an epic brawl against a range of horror's most famous icons. It is a hugely promising concept, and while the final result doesn't quite live up to expectations the film is by no means a disaster.
Director Stephen Sommers instils every frame with a gleeful, childish love for the subject matter. From the stylish black and white preamble charting the creation of Frankenstein's monster to the highly original skin-tearing Wolfman transformation, the film constantly bombards you with glossy CGI and stunning production values.
However, the phrase 'style over substance' has never been more apt. The characters are non-existent. Jackman, so charismatic in the X-Men franchise, is given little to do here, simply growling his cheesy dialogue and offering moody stares from under his impractically large hat.
Beckinsale fares no better in the character stakes, plus it would seem her Transylvanian voice coach was none other than The Count from Sesame Street. As Dracula, Roxburgh is, somewhat ironically, the only cast member who doesn't completely suck. He recognises the silliness of the film and camps up his role to suitable effect.
Whilst Sommers has a fine eye for fun set-pieces he has inadvertently crafted one of the cheesiest films of recent years. Full of unintentional hilarity and with one of the most wince inducing emotional goodbyes ever committed to celluloid, this has to be seen to be believed.
Ultimately Van Helsing is big, brash silly fun, made simply to entertain. Overlook the crass writing and you will find a film larger Van life, and no worse for it.
The one question that continued to bother me after I'd sat through the 100 or so minutes of drug-fuelled betrayal and violence that constitute Wonderland was simply: "why?"
The film is not particularly awful, and certainly contains a performance of real magnetism from Val Kilmer. However, as much as the film's 'gritty' camerawork and its unorthodox editing attempt to engage, I couldn't help but feel unmoved by the end product.
In 1981 porn star John Holmes was implicated in a drug-related quadruple murder in an affluent Los Angeles neighbourhood. The film recounts Holmes' involvement in the crime from two points of view, and sets out to explore the relationship between Holmes (Kilmer) and the women in his life, played by Lisa Kudrow and Kate Bosworth.
Kilmer, whose bankability plummeted somewhat after a series of flops in the 1990s, seems to be enjoying a minor renaissance, and his performance in Wonderland is almost dynamic enough to carry the film alone.
Almost. While his portrayal of the troubled celebrity offers a sense of near-childish vulnerability alongside moments of savage brutality, his best is simply not enough to cover the cracks that pervade James Cox's confused mess of a film. Kudrow is badly miscast as Holmes' estranged wife, and Bosworth as his young girlfriend offers nothing more than unconvincing eye candy.
Cox is culpable for a cliché-ridden script and an unhealthy appetite for collage that jars with the hard-boiled 'realism' he strives to attain. To diagnose a 'style-over-substance' affliction would confer upon the film a sense of panache that it does not merit. Wonderland misses out on both counts, and but for Kilmer's performance would be entirely forgettable.
Not to be mistaken with the nihilistic sex and drug fest ?The rules of Attraction?, ?Laws of attraction? is in fact the rarest of all things, a mature romantic comedy that manages to tread the fine line between saccharine and cynical with surprising success. As New York divorce lawyers Daniel Rafferty (Pierce ?bond? Brosnan) and Audrey Miller (Julianne Moore) banter their way through courtroom, bedroom and beyond, towards the inevitable but satisfying romantic conclusion.
This could easily have been another Richard Gere/Julia Roberts money making vehicle, and it seems surprising to see the parts going to a casting paring that doesn?t represent a genre brand name. My expectations were set low as neither Moore nor Brosnan have really made any serious forays into comedy beyond bit parts and indifferent one offs. But freed from the theatrical straight jacket of the ?Bond tuxedo? Brosnan manages to achieve a more warm and sincere charisma, his usually wooden persona finally etched with some scruffy character. While as a demonstration of her often underappreciated talents Moore succeeds where so so many have failed, in actually making her slightly neurotic career woman (Who is of course secretly emotionally vulnerable and warm) more than just an irritating caricature.
I wanted to write this film off as a predictable and uninspired, but I just can?t. Honestly it made me laugh?many times. The combination of one liners and non-crude sight gags has achieved what the entire cast of the Scary Movie trilogy could not. As with comedies of a different perhaps past age this film works with the friction of foreplay without ever resorting to the bluntness of innuendo. ?Laws of Attraction? may deal in the same stereotype currency as all rom-coms but it carefully resists the temptation to overcomplicate or extend its plot to overcompensate. (See Something?s Gotta Give for examples of that). The surprising excursion of the story to Ireland midway through changes the tone of the movie and affords fresh comedic opportunities to the exhausted Manhattan scenery. See it for yourself, be surprised, and be amused.
13th May 2004