good luck solo, mate

or not?

FFF#25 Review: RABIES

Films like Rabies are painful to watch for many reasons, however, last of all because they are intended to induce pain in the viewer. Hailed as "Israel's first horror film", the film does disappoint on that level. Take the poster to your left for whatever you want it to mean, but there is little creepiness or gruesome fantasy to be found in here. Rabies is pretty much a cinematic summation of the genre tropes Contrived Conincidence, Ten Little Murder Victims and Coincidence Magnet. Also, "Dirty Cop". And "Terrible Serial Killer is terrible at what he does". You see, Rabies, we have to talk...

The film opens with a clever shot in which a young woman is caught in an underground chamber/trap in the woods by, probably, an insane serial killer (although we have no idea why or how or... oh, never mind). Her brother comes to her aid (who obviously loves her in an incestuous way) but then is somehow wounded... it seems...

The film then jumps forward (urgh) to a few teens/20somethings that do nothing but dick around the israeli countryside to at some point get laid probably by Yael Grobglas. There are some lesbian overtones in the second female companion which are thrown in for good measures but do little to improve the action.

So the teenagers meet up with the slightly wounded and definitely annoying brother of said trapped girl who is his sister. The two boys decide to go with him into the woods to search the girl while the two girls in the car wait for the police that was called in for help. Meanwhile, a hunter (??) says goodbye to his girlfriend and goes about his own business in the woods (aka, he dicks around), gets his dog killed by... the serial killer or whoever that is, and finds the girl.

Meanwhile (sigh) the two girls are joined by the cops, of which one turns out to be a perverted, sleazy fucker who unceremoniously sprays his saliva over the two girls in a lusty manner, while the three boys in search of the trapped girl encounter bear traps and do what boys their age do (clue: they are annoying).

Does this sound like a horror film? Well, not to me.

Rabies is actually funny enough to entertain. Some of the "OH FUCK WTF"-moments are rather silly and truly life the spirit of the entire thing. However, there really isn't much meat to everything. The serial killer is not explained thoroughly (hell, we don't even know if he is one to begin with), the entire shabado happens because of two annoying incest teens, the last half hour drags along and tries to reveal even the latest bit of irony in its protagonists demises... in short, the film suffers from everything that episodic films suffer from if the scriptwriter thinks he's cleverer than the audience, yet has little to nothing to say about what is actually going on.

So, who really cares for good dialogue, detailed characterization, creative methods to dispose of protagonists and flashy cinematography if everything only ends with one of them making the wrong move at the wrong time, setting off a chain reaction that ends in an apocalyptic outcome? Coincidence rules everything and guides every characters step, ending in a contrived, only marginally interesting plot with little coherence - "Dumm gelaufen! - the movie"!

The film also follows the tendency to leave his viewers in a state of complete dumbfoundedness as to what the consequences of the actions depicted in the film actually are, apart of those who obviously die - some of the "plot resolutions" even seem to come completely out of nowhere and are never further explained to begin with.

But I sound harsh! Rabies is a fun film if you are drunk and with some buddies and want to see teenagers dick around the woods and get hacked to pieces by each other in creative ways. Yet, there is little atmosphere, no horror element, no truly intelligent twist, nothing of substance below its outer appeal. So in short: if you like good/funny dialogue and to look at Yael Grobglas, this films is potentially as good as long as she is on the screen, or as long as creative ways are found to bring the plot forward - both of those comprise 70% of the movie.

Rating - 7/10

FFF#25 Review: 22ND OF MAY

Nothing can prepare the viewer for what he is about to witness in this film. Not Koen Mortier's first feature Ex Drummer (one of my absolute favorites and probably the most politically incorrect film ever made). Not the multitude of recent horror and crime themed arthouse films that spawned in Belgium recently. Not even taking a look at the obvious influences of 22nd of May - films like Persona, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind or The Wrestler. 22nd of May is a unique, singular event that unravels in the midst of a european wave of fantastic films outside of genre conventions and pictorial regulations.

The film opens with roughly around 10 minutes of semi-documentary footage of a man waking up, eating breakfast, getting ready and making his way to his day job. There is little to nothing to distract us from the dry routine our protagonist goes through - a guitar strikes some notes in an attempt to generate a slight melody but ultimately looses itself in the sounds of footsteps and passing cars, the camera only concentrates on the man's back of his head, dialogue is almost completely absent.

As the man takes his position (he works as a security guard in front of a mall), we witness another five minutes of his day job, until finally, with eardrum shattering brutality, the glass entry behind him turns into a pile of dust and rubble, humans turned into torches, chatter into screams of agony as a bomb tears the building to shreds.

From this moment on, Mortier concentrates almost exclusively on the inner realm of this man, his imagination and his attempt at making sense of what just happened, overcoming his trauma, piecing together a puzzle that makes no sense - a story lacking context and clearance. Mortier calls back the spirits of those deceased in the bombing, the passers by and regulars, all of them guilty of some form of humane cruelty, all of them stopped in their pace of life to confront an uncertain destiny (it is never revealed with complete certainty who actually dies and who survives). He calls back the man who committed this crime, unravels the past of the unlucky protagonist and the life situations of all of them to show is a broader context of what havoc this crime actually wreaked.

Visually, Mortier takes his influences from a wide range of what could be labeled cinema's greatest - there are some shots that are clearly indicative of Ingmar Bergman's 60s period, some of the inner-realm-scenes are dark reflections of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, the early scenes are reminiscent of Darren Aronofsky's latest forays into social realism, Tarkovsky's silent poetry seems to infuse other shots etc. But Mortier never fails to bring enough of his own dark aesthetic along to elevate the film above a bland homage. The vast, empty cityscapes of Belguim adding as much to the tone as the lost and often perverted characters who struggle to find meaning in life.

22nd of May is - yes - a difficult film, even one some may feel alienated and disturbed by. It doesn't look for comfort or to provide an answer for all its complex questions, yet it is proof that Mortier has joined the ranks of current directors who are among the best there ever were, that Ex Drummer was not just a one-off - and yet, ironically, proves to be so much different from the work that preceded it. Existentialistic fireworks - or nihilistic cherry-bombs.

Rating - 10/10

---

it's been ages since i last saw this one... and i still don't have the poster...

...

it's been ages since i last saw this one... and i still don't have the poster...

FFF#25 Review: RED STATE

- "Knock Knock!"

- "Who's there?"

- "Anal Sex!"

- "Oh, it's Kevin Smith."

Summarized in these four lines lies the entire appeal Kevin Smiths has had ever since Dogma. Or Chasing Amy, dependent on how you want to look at it. Smith, once the auteur darling of an entire generation, the pastiche of Tarantino's slight political incorrectness and Linklater's skilled, dialogue based character pieces, has become irrelevant and has been a drag for over a decade. His detractors love to reduce his oeuvre to his most recent failure, the buddy-cop-comedy Cop Out with Bruce Willis, while actually neither Zack and Miri make a Porno, Clerks 2, Jersey Girl, two utterly despicable Batman comic-runs or Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back really managed to generate anything but yawns from an ever diminishing audience. Smith had respectively sold out, lost it or gone old in the minds of his fans. In this personal climate, one in which Smith was not only irrelevant but also became a living joke (as he was thrown off a plane for weighing too much), Red State seems not like a re-imagination as much as it is a call to arms, a destruction of everything that came before and probably the film that will endure in Smiths oeuvre.

Before I delve into the review, let me quickly sum up the scandal surrounding Red State's release. Smith released news of his film shortly before Sundance, where it would premiere. It was, in his own words, a horror film with a christian theme. Little to nothing else was known at that point. The film was self-produced, with no studio or production company involved. Smith brought his own team, friends and fans to the shoot, that allegedly cost around four million dollar. It was his vision, unaltered.

As Sundance approached, Smith released a disclaimer on his website, that no press tickets would be given out to review sites. Everybody who wanted to attend the premiere would be forced to get up at five in the morning, stand in row and hope that tickets would still be sold. This, Smith revealed, was due to the disastrous press reception of his previous films (although short sighted, a quite brave statement to hand out). There would be no press screenings. Just a premiere.

But even bigger news came when Smith announced that after the press screening, he himself would auction to rights for the film to the attendance. Again, nobody would be invited, all had to get up at five in the morning and get in line. Or send their employees to go get the tickets for them.

Thus, when the film premiered, not only was most of the US press attending (who had managed to get tickets), but also the big names of various studios and labels that wanted to get their hands at the rights for Red State. First tweets after the screening were mixed, speaking of strong performances, a 20 (!) minute sermon by leading actor Michael Parks and never ending shootouts. As the applause diminished, Smith took the stage and went on into a long tirade. Essentially, he called out to the press, mocking them for bashing his work in public, and spit continuous venom on the american studio system, in which stars were overpaid (20 million $ is around the standard fare for an a-lister alone, five times the amount of money Red State was shot with), scripts were hacked, the production was interfered by producers. And even once the film was done, the promotion would require large amounts of money to get a crowd into theaters who had no interest in this sort of film in the first place.

As the atmosphere in the theater got continuously worse, Smith left the stage to his producer, who would auction the rights. As he took the stage and asked for the first bid, Smith raised his hand: "20 Dollars!" - "SOLD!!"

Both in shock and awe, the attendance watched as Smith took the stage once again, explaining that he had fooled the attendance, that he himself would screen the film on a "tour" throughout the united states, without promotion or advertising it. He proceeded to spit a last few minutes of venom, then dropped the microphone to the ground and left the stage. I have included the entire Sundance bit below as a youtube video, if anybody is interested.

In the aftermath, Smith explained in a long post that his frustration about the studio system led him to the grotesque charade, that he wanted to proof that he would be able to not only make a good film without any studio funding, but also that he would succeed in making profit with the film this way (for the math: a film that cost 200 million has to make about 400 million to strike even, thanks to shareholders and PR getting their bits).

So, did Red State succeed? Is it a good film? Smith, by now, has his money back - everything that followed from a few months ago on is profit to him. As for the film itself - what follows now are slight spoilers of the plot. If you want to go in and see Red State unprepared (which could be compared to seeing Hostel unprepared), then stop reading here. All I can tell you is that Red State is a very good horror film with a very personal, important, socio-political message. For everybody else: go on.

The film opens with... anal sex jokes? Oh, Kevin Smith...

The opening ten to fifteen minutes are truly a drag, as our three teenage protagonists discuss hooking up with a woman one has found on the internet so they loose their virginity. Blah Blah Blah, some needless exposition later they find themselves in the clutches of what is a church under the steady gaze of pastor Abin Cooper and his family. Before I go on, one thing has to be noted: Michael Parks, who stars as Cooper, and whom most will know as Earl McGraw from various Tarantino ventures (really, pick your favorite, he is in a couple), is so good in here that he has to be nominated for an academy award. If he won't be, then this only tells so much about Kevin Smith pissing off the right people. He is, by far, one of the most outstanding villains in cinema and Parks is sure to finally be widely recognized as a truly daring and unique actor.

Parks' depiction of Cooper is both chilling and sympathetic. As he starts his (slightly cut down to about 10 minutes) sermon, we can't help but agree with various points the character makes, have to ponder if this guy really is all that evil, while right behind him a figure with a blanket over his body stands next to a cross. Smith succeeds in not only making us scared of these extreme, religious fanatics, he also provides us with good reason as to why Cooper is so dangerous: because he's got good arguments. He doesn't shout, he only needs to whisper to bring his followers to their feet.

Then the blanket is torn down. And then, the killings start. Although we have seen all these actors before - some of them in films, others in TV-shows; some we know the names off, others faint shadows of a role whose name we can't remember - nobody is safe. People are killed off in a matter of seconds, with no further ado. It makes for one adrenaline rush after the next, because, really - who knows what Smith is up to?

After a good amount of time, John Goodman is introduced as the leader of a special force unit that is assigned to take the Coopers down and the film slowly progresses from horror film into a dark neo-wester. After an extended shoot-out, he gets the order to take "everybody inside the house" out. The hostages, children - everybody. To which Goodman slightly objects, although the killing continues, until... well, until Kevin Smith uses one of the most stunning and baffling deus ex machina I have ever encountered in a film (quite literarily at that, also).

Nobody comes away safe - teenagers, hedonists, right wing christians, homosexuals, the police, executive and judicative. Smith does not target them individually - he targets ideologies. He targets the idea of one group to be superior to another. The belief system that one group has more right to do something than another. The idea that one ideology is the right one, that it is fine to betray (or worse) for a greater cause. Thus, he spits vitriol on every ideology, every believe-based system, every aspect of fanaticism, coming up with as bitter and cynical a film as one could be, summing up his own believes in the very last line spoken in the film before it cuts to unforgiving, pure black!

People will be pissed off! Many will not take the time to dig below the ideas present, and maybe will felt rub down the wrong way by Smith's approach in portraying his villains, whoever they may be. But first and foremost, Red State is the film to induce socio-political discussion, reflection and actual change! It's one of these films which, ten years from now, will be a big cult film with a steady following. If it wouldn't have been made by Smith, but by a newcomer, it would have been showered with praise already. In short: yes. He did it. He re-invented himself and came up with his best work yet.

Rating - 9/10

P.S.: Here is the full Sundance speech of Kevin Smith. Enjoy!

FFF#25 Review: STAKE LAND

It is highly important to stress just how important atmosphere is to horror films. Clumsy characterization, bad special effects, plot-holes all matter little to an audience if the film manages to create a world of its own that stays with the viewer long after the last drop of blood has been shed. Images are more important than an original story or good dialogue if they manage to induce fear in whoever is watching. Stake Land may not be a perfect film. In fact it would be easy to pick out the various problems on display, yet the films existence is more important than that it succeeds on every level.

Co-written by star Nick Damici and director Jim Mickle, Stake Land is almost a Malick-ian twist of the horror genre. Almost. In the near future, the United States is overrun by a crude mixture of Vampires and Zombies, leaving only few humans to battle for survival. In this post-apocalyptic setting, we follow a young man (Patrick) and his mentor (a nameless vampire hunter) as they make their way through the country in search of New Eden, Canada. No, I didn't make this up, yes, I know it sounds crap. So, how does the film manage to become a rather unique entry into the modern horror canon? By taking itself seriously. Very seriously. The opening scene alone, in which we learn of the gruesome, gory demise of Patrick's family, is enough to convey a feeling of dread that spans over the entire coarse of the film. One especially harrowing shot succeeds in making the viewer unsure just how far the writing duo can take the depiction of violence (clue: they take it very far in the remaining 90 minutes).

The film then moves forward a few months to the two hunters searching the wasteland that once was a city. The cinematography indicates almost picaresque beauty. The quiet soundtrack recalls Nick Caves work on "The Assassination of Jesse James". Patrick recalls his past in a hushed whisper and reflects upon the state of the world. The haunting, melancholic atmosphere recalls road movies and coming of age films from the late 90s and the Western revival earlier this decade. Almost Malick-ian. A stark contrast of two forces in the new united nation: the beauty of landscapes and life contrasted by half-rotten bloodsuckers.

As the duo makes their way to the allegedly safe haven, they encounter a variety of human characters that all manage to generate enough interest in the audience to care, and meet a couple of allies that follow them on their way. Geez, I wonder whose demise is depicted first...

Thus we have here the one, big flaw of the film: it's typical set-up in terms of "characters we make you care about only to have them killed later." Yeah, it's rather easy to generate sympathy in an audience these days. Still, the script is content to flesh these persons out, their goals and dreams, who they are and what they want. We know little about them, but it is enough to make us connect with them. It's a shame though they do little more than die.

The second big flaw of the film is actually not a flaw. It's highly evident that the budget was small and that the ambitious approach would lend itself better to a full blown two (if not three) hour epic that delves further into the western themes introduced, as well as into the mythology of the villains and monsters. For example, a cult that believes in gods will to diminish the human race through the Vampire plague is introduced but only so much as to give us the bare bones of their believes and to be worthy villains once they put their plans into action. The anti-dogmatic message thus feels rather heavy handed and doesn't manage to fully bloom. The ending feels rather rushed as well and more like a set-up for a full fledged sequel that further illustrates character motivations and connections.

Still, with all these minor flaws, Stake Land somehow manages to shine and stand its own ground. It's a clever, daring and moving horror film that may cross the line at some points and stay behind its self-imposed ambitions, yet it's also another step towards the right direction: a modern american horror-cinema that combines artistry with genre tropes and relies as much on mood and beauty as on violence and the uncanny. Highly enjoyable, slightly socio-political and very welcome in a time where effects and jump-scares are regarded as the main attraction in horror films.

Rating - 8/10

P.S.: I decided to include a scene this time around, as neither the images nor the trailer are a good indicator of the films actual mood.

i know i should post more reviews...

... but i have things to do.

she's preparing herself!

keep an eye open for her.

maya kulenovich - treason - 2010

http://www.mayakulenovic.com

FFF#25 Review: PHASE 7

As a viral epidemic sweeps over the streets of Buenos Aires, the slacker Coco and his pregnant wife Pipi wait in their apartment for a governmental allowance to leave their apartment building, doing nothing much but eat cereal, play board games and test a blacklight-bulb as they have none other left to change the burned out ones. But once his neighbors have decided to wage war on one of the elderly inhabitants, he bonds with the highly paranoid, quite loony Horacio that lives next door, who has all the gear and resources to make this a long, action filled ride. He shaves his beard to slightly resemble Gaspar Noé, slips into a full-body-plastic suit (see images below) and slowly morphs into an urban Bruce Willis.

I find it particularly hard to review a film like Phase 7 - not because it bored me or because it is an uninteresting film. Quite the opposite: given that I have little to no knowledge of argentinian cinema, and that those I have seen recently operating rather as a set-back than a reminder that south american has a vibrant and interesting scene, this was a breath of fresh air. Well acted (studded by some of the countries biggest stars), colorful, wildly funny and action packed, with some interesting characters and a good pacing, I'd say that Phase 7 is one of the most successful 'summer blockbusters' if you count in world cinema releases. It's a whole lot of fun to watch and has everything to make a nice experience. It also has some inconsistencies here and there, and some parts are rather shoddily written (but hey, it's Nicolas Goldbart's first directorial effort, so even that can be excused), but that doesn't little the fun. What I find problematic though is to come up with things about this film that is really worth saying aside of... uh, watch this, if you want to have a fun ride.

So let's see - the film is weightless compared to other films taking place in tower blocks (like Attack the Block or REC). It does have characters which you can care for or identify with, but who are also stereotypical enough to make fun of them occasionally (granted, they are rather stupid).

You have a colorful cinematography that is closer to comic book aesthetics than arthouse or US-action-fare. You have slapstick that works at most times and dialogue that is occasionally funny. The plot development is a bit grim, but also optimistic - the twists are surprising enough although inoffensive. The violence, however, is rather offensive (luckily) and there are many scenes where I was surprised just how well the film used it to change the tone of what was going on. The villain is reasonably evil and still has a humane and interesting aspect.

However, nothing of all of this is a level up of a fun experience - nothing sticks with you, nothing really throws you off. I can't even proclaim that the director played it 'safe', as the violence and some of the twists are rather courageous to use in a film of this status. Maybe it could be compared to the recent Simon Pegg/Nick Frost comedies, in how it tries to blend genre tropes with black humor and interesting characterization. It's not quite as successful as Hot Fuzz or Shaun of the Dead though.

So, would I recommend this movie? Oh, absolutely. It's solid, it's funny, it has some slight suspense - it's everything a black comedy that plays with a predefined genre can do right. It's sadly not much more, but if you want to have a good evening with beer and some friends, I can recommend this one as good pop-cinema entertainment. If you intend to watch a truly deep, artful, emotional film, however, I think you should better wait with Phase 7 until you desire some popcorn, cold beer, laughs and thrills. Oh, and of course a lot of mindless over the top violence.

Rating - 7/10

FFF#25 Review: YELLOW SEA

One thing Yellow Sea taught me was that I definitely should check the runtime of a film first before I buy a ticket. Let down by the previous film, I decided to to go for Yellow Sea, which started at half past ten. Only when sitting in the theater and realizing that I had not eaten in hours, was very tired and that the film ran for two and a half hours I realized I might have made a slight mistake. Turns out it wasn't, as Yellow Sea was wildly entertaining, very well made and one of the most suspenseful and emotionally involving asian thrillers of recent years.

Taxi Driver Goo-Nam's wife left one year ago for Korea to find a job to support the family. To support his wife, Goo-Nam himself borrowed money from the triads, who now seem eager to re-collect their debts - shame that the protagonists wife has not called back ever since she moved away from mainland China. As Goo-Nam can't repay the money, the triad boss hires him as a contract killer to finish off a job in Korea, so that our unlucky hero can both pay his debt as well as find his wife and get her back to China.

Of course things don't work out properly and the plot spirals out of control as various syndicates target Goo-Nam who's also got the police on his heels and is busy finding his wife.

There are two reasons why Yellow Sea works so well. One is that the script, while filled with twists, never seems unrealistic. One plot point builds on another and they all weave an intricate web of deceive and interests. Director Hon-Jin Na is obviously interested in the point-of-view dynamics of crime, where the police seemingly has no clue of the bigger picture, while syndicates slowly try to unravel the reasons behind a murder plot and the conceived murderer himself is almost completely innocent of the going ons. Best compared to Infernal Affairs (and its US remake The Departed), the script allows the audience to puzzle the pieces together before all is revealed, keeping the viewer constantly at the edge of their seats when the bigger picture slowly creeps up on them.

The other reason is that this may be the best choreographed and directed gangster film in a long time. I have seen few films that succeeded as well in depicting crashing cars both realistically and as a piece of art, as the chase sequence here go on for what seems almost like half an hour, constantly coming up with new ideas and shock moments. The fights of the gangsters themselves reek of realism and could easily make audience members not used to this level of violence walk out. One action scene in particular, which sees one man up against dozens of other gangsters, is particularly grim and shocking, but the effect of suspense is always achieved (even though I wonder why nobody seemed to be fond of using guns, which would have made some of it a lot easier).

The cinematography almost seems documentary at times, jumping from HD to DV, making for a slightly nauseous but grim and dark look that heightens the illusion of realism.

The film is a far cry from being the next Oldboy or Sympathy for Mr. Vengeance as it never ventures into the field of brilliance, but as far as dark, shocking, realist gangster dramas with suspense, action and characterization go, this is a film definitely worth the money to see it on the big screen. It's not for the faint of heart and ultimately comes up with a rather nihilistic message though, but if you are into these sort of things, there is little competition right now.

Rating - 8/10

if morrissey would be a woman...

... the smiths might have sounded like this.

FFF#25 Review: DON'T BE AFRAID OF THE DARK

It's become an ongoing routine that the opening film of the Fantasy Filmfest is regarded as a let down by many in the audience. It's never been fully established where this animosity stems from, as most films that screened as openers over the last ten years were at least decent or interesting, albeit some of them unspectacular. Thus, I feel sorry to say that Don't be afraid of the Dark, the Guillermo Del Toro produced remake of a 70s TV-horror film, was the one film that felt most like a let down to me.

The story starts compelling enough: a little girl finds herself threatened by small creatures in the new family home. Her father is busy polishing his ego and has little time for his daughter, while her step mother gives her best to bond with the kid (albeit unsuccessful). Due to a trauma, neither of her parents believe her in her plight that the house is haunted. Combine that with great set design and the usually reliable Guy Pearce, and it looks like a fun evening.

But something is wrong with this film - and it's the script.

Don't be afraid of the Dark simply makes many mistakes. The creatures are revealed too early, CGI animated and seemingly not a threat (whenever they try to kill somebody, they don't even manage to do that). Their backstory is lackluster at best (as is their motivation). The father only cares for architectural digest and little else, and is content to constantly put his traumatized daughter in rather troubling situations.

The step mother never realizes she's in a horror film as she sneaks from one genre-typical moment to the next (giving your daughter a polaroid camera instead of a flashlight when she clearly exclaims fear of darkness is sort of stupid, really). The girl is mostly unlikable (suppose you find a strange furnace in the cellar where creepy voices come out from - would you open it?) and acts like a teenager (both the situations she is placed in, her dialogue and her acting style remind more of a character that age - it is important to note that her character was created for the remake, the protagonist of the film it is based on is Katie Holmes character, and her husband has no daughter). Supporting characters only act as conveyors of exposition. The ending doesn't work and is not properly explained.

So we end up with a good looking film that lacks any scariness or individuality, interesting characters or food for thought. Del Toro's touch, however, makes it at least a decent experience, as one can indulge in enough stylistic beauty and great set-design to carry us through the film. But compared to other Del Toro productions (like 'The Orphanage') or successful haunted house horror films, Don't be afraid of the Dark disappoints.

Rating - 5/10

i should get myself to do the FFF#25 reviews...

... but this is all I care about right now!!!

FFF 2011: Prologue - X-Men First Class

In cinema, there are ties that can be stronger than blood. Franchises which, against your better judgement, become a part of ones life and manage to express what is a vital part of the individual who becomes so obsessed with them, drawing the viewer into their worlds and attracting them to even the weakest entries.

My entire life, I have been a Batman-guy. I watched the '66-series when I was a little kid, confusing the camp with genuine heroism (I guess if you are 5 years old, a crime fighter clad in nylons who is able to climb a building with the help of only a rope, effortlessly, is a truly amazing thing). When I was a bit older, I watched Tim Burton's first Batman movie on TV and re-watched the VHS countless times.

The moment Batman Returns hit, I was in utter awe of this dark, grotesque world that seemed like a marriage of silent films and my own dreams. And then, of course, came Batman, the animated series. I started to read comics. I got into Watchmen - and Alan Moore, while Batman lost his battle against the now world-famous rubber nipples.

In 2000, superheroes seemed superfluous, not only on the big screen, but also in my life. 9/11 was only a far away threat, nuclear plants seemed stale and safe. I was, however, struggling with my own teenage angst in suburbia - I felt a bit like an outcast, struggled in school and with who I wanted to become once puberty was over. And in this climate, the second big love of my existence as a fanboy hit, and it hit hard. X-Men was, although a flawed film from todays standards, a world unknown to me. These superheroes were not alpha males with inexhaustible bank accounts, they were physically and mentally broken creatures, full of flaws and trauma. Outcasts. Loners. Losers.

Wolverine became my new avatar. Two years later, it was Nightcrawler. I cautiously took a look into the X-Men comics, but to my frustration found myself lost in ongoing storylines, scratching my head at who was who, who killed who, who dated who and who who who. I grew out of puberty and started becoming cautiously optimistic about myself and my life when Bryan Singer left the franchise for - urgh - Superman Returns, and thus had no interest in X-Men 3: The Last Stand. It took some more years for X-Men Origins: Wolverine to hit and attract feedback as strikingly negative as only rubber nipples were able to bring forward previously. Of course I stayed away as well.

All in all, it took me nine years to ease my mind on the option of going to a cinema and watching a new X-Men film, but good reviews and curiosity got the best of me. In the advert of the Fantasy Filmfest, I decided to buy myself a ticket for a late night showing of First Class, two beers and check out the entire bunch of X-Men films on DVD. I will write a lengthy entry on the entire franchise soon, but only so much: no, Last Stand is not as bad as people make it out to be, although it is messy - yes, Origins: Wolverine is inexcusable and terrible, casting the seed of doubt in my mind. But then I got to the cinema, eased my behind into a chair and had the wave of awesome wash over me.

X-Men: First Class is in many ways the best X-Men film to ever be realized, and it casts the entire franchise in a different light. It may also be the best prequel to ever be made.

The film opens with three key scenes that set the tone for everything that is to follow: a very young Erik in a concentration camp (the opening is an exact remake of the first film's opening) struggling with his powers and Sebastian Shaw, a very young Charles meeting a very young (yet already skilled) Raven, and then Charles and Raven as adults in an Oxford pub. Although the first of those three may be the best and most memorable scene (including one single cut to a shot previously not established which changes the audience's perspective of the entire scene, proving what an intelligent and skilled filmmaker Vaughn is), the pub-scene stayed with me as my favorite. Why?

Vaughn is much more than just a skilled and intelligent filmmaker. Most of all, he brings a sense of personality and individuality to his films. Most modern comic book movies seem to struggle to erase any sort of personality of its creator - think of the images of Green Lantern, Thor, Daredevil, or Captain America, and even Spiderman or Iron Man. All these films have different directors, but if watched in a row, it is hard to distinguish which is made by Branagh or Raimi. They all seem to be intended as clean cut products. There are few The Dark Knights or Hulks, films that replicate the directors trademark style and prove a worthy addition to their individual canon.

Vaughn seems to be able to bring this highly personal style into each and every of his films, and this is the first scene where it is completely evident - the pub is not your average Hollywood-built stage, but feels strikingly authentic. Either Vaughn brought a team in to design and built this place, or he happened to shoot this in one of his very favorite places - the pub, after all, could be located nowhere but in the UK, adding a flavor absent of every Hollywood created 'cliché pub'. This is not an american superhero movie. This is a european one (much like Hulk was an asian movie in disguise)! Not to mention the stylish clothes and cinematic flairs that clearly position this as a period piece - it is also the first superhero film to depict the early 60s and not just aping styles, but depicting them as modern as they were back then.

We are then introduced to Charles, who is... a charming and clever womanizer. And Raven, who is... a strikingly beautiful girl, attracted to her best friend, who does little to comfort her. Professor X is not an a-sexual priest in a wheelchair - he is a playboy. Raven is not a kung-fu-stripper - she is a girl looking for self-realization in love and sexuality.

To say that Vaughn has realized who these people are is an understatement: he has perfected them for the big screen. The dialogue is very reminiscent of the mix of earnest high prose and ridiculous smart-assery of comic books, and the characters manage to combine the humane and the grotesque in the right dose. This is not a film by somebody who had a job, or somebody who liked a character - this is a film by somebody who understands each and every of his characters, manages to bring a sense of individuality to even those with the least dialogue (and high praise has to be given to the actors behind the minor characters here, as they manage to portray what could have been empty puppets as rich and colored as the leads manage with the main protagonists).

So we witness the X-Men 'find' each other and themselves. We watch Erik hunt down Nazis (another one of the most striking scenes takes place in an argentinian bar - seems Vaughn has a taste for these highly intimate yet also anonymous places, as two two key scenes of a character finding what he looked for take place in bars), Raven fall in love with Hank McCoy, Hank perceiving himself as a monster, Moira MacTaggert stripping to perceive Shaw, Shaw being utterly depraved, Emma Frost taking off her clothes and one by one, a team assembling itself both around Charles and Erik.

Singer chose to see the X-Men as one big metaphor for homosexuality (logically, as the theme is close to his own personality). While Vaughn acknowledges this, he also manages to create a much broader, thus more universal statement than just 'mutants = homosexuals'. Hank is the nerd who desperately wants to find a Mr. Hyde in his Dr. Jekyll. Erik is the racial (or religious) underdog who leads a fight of vengeance against his oppressors. Sean is a slight looser, whose only power is in his voice (which he can't control), mirrored by the attractive Alex, whose anger is - once released - a force of destruction. Raven is born in the wrong body, struggling with her sexuality and her 'real form', choosing a permanent disguise as a means to be seen equal. Charles is the one who, albeit different, has come to terms with his own 'mutation', the one to unite and help them. They are no longer one specific group: they are each and every kind of losers, outcasts and underdogs; no matter why or how they became who they are, they all are equal in their difference from normality.

They are opposed by Shaw's team, a dark reflection of Bond villains. The femme fatale (Frost), the quiet assassin (Riptide), the grotesque (and deformed) right hand (Azazel) and the diabolical Ex-Nazi-colportist-mastermind. Charles - or the pre-X-Men - seem to pose little threat: in another of the films best scenes, in which the teenagers show each other their powers, they end up partying to what was a wild rock song in '62. It needs Erik to fully channel his inner James Bond to finally face them.

By the time the film reaches its climax, Vaughn has managed to convince us that there is no good or bad in this fight - there simply are different forms of existence. There are mutant rights - those who regard themselves equal to humans in rights. There is mutant power, those who think they are superior to humans and who are looking for vengeance. And there is mutant pride, those who are happy with what they are and want to be accepted as different, but just as beautiful and realized as humans. And as the film progresses to this point, I was having as much fun as I could ever recall watching a superhero movie. Ever.

This may not be as good and fully realized thematically as The Dark Knight was, but granted, The Dark Knight was not an origin story that had to introduce and set-up its characters. Aside of that, First Class is superior to every other superhero film, probably even better than Batman Returns. It is complex and layered, it manages to combine pulp and arthaus aesthetics, comic and high prose. By the end of it, Erik will move a coin, and it may be one of the most moving, painful, beautiful and haunting scenes in modern cinema.

It is the film that gave me back my faith in superhero movies, and the film to give me back my faith in the power of the outcast. Once again, the X-Men changed my life. And for that, I give them all the praise they deserve!

Jean Luc Godard - Le Mépris

Jean Luc Godards best film starts as some of the best things in this world started out - with a naked Brigitte Bardot lying on a bed.

Actually, the film starts even more daring than that - while a voice reads the credits for the film, a woman slowly walks down a road, accompanied by a camera on tracks. With this small collage, Godard re-invents his approach to cinema considerably: while he's used breaking of the fourth wall before, this time around he approaches a biographical story as a film-within-a-film experiment, fully embracing a post-modern approach that, in 1962, still seemed fresh and daring.

As the audience takes in the scene, it is unclear whether Godard is showing us the process of filmmaking, or just documents his making of Le Mépris: if we gaze into a mirror or if Godard has us gaze into a mirror that in return shows another mirror.

And as Godard moves on, we are witness to Bardot's naked body on sheets, next to her husband - her body entirely in red. The dialogue (partially drowned out by the rising soundtrack) concerns the woman's insecurities: her inability to love her own features, and the rising hate directed towards her husband (who, in consequence, must also hate her, if she is incapable of loving herself). As the dialogue goes on, Godard switches the color lenses - suddenly, the red color is gone, and Bardot's body can be seen in natura... only to have it obscured by a dark shade of blue moments later.

Why exactly Godard has chosen the "french flag" as superimposed color filters for this scene remains a mystery, but one can conclude that Bardot - the french nations symbol of their sexual freedom - is sort of "inverted" here: she no longer is as sexy as she is an everyday girl, ripe with insecurities and self-loathing. If this approach is taken, the overall theme of self-loathing can be applied to anything: the man who lies next to his wife is a cynic, who seems disinterested in the very fundament his life is built upon.

In consequence, the story of the film concerns the director and writer Paul Javal (Michel Piccoli) and his wife (Bardot) - a barely concealed re-imagination of Godard and Anna Karina (guess what sort of a wig Bardot puts on halfway through the film).

Javal is hired by an american producer Prokosch (Jack Palance) to perfect the script for a troubled production on Odysseus, directed by Fritz Lang (who plays himself, essentially).

While Javal is hardly interested in the material, and obviously prefers Lang's arthouse version of the script to what Prokosch envisions, he sticks around for the production and follows the troubled german and arrogant american (who, whenever Javal starts a discussion on the liberties of true art, picks up a small book, out of which he recites quotes by others - of course completely out of context and void of any understanding). Cold and rational, Javal doesn't seem to be bothered by the fact that the producer obviously tries to vow his wife - an affront to the same, who takes the ignorance on the side of her husband as a sign of their deteriorating emotions towards each other, and causes a rift that, as the film progresses, cracks further open, finally reaching a climax when the two are brought by Prokosch to his seaside villa, where Odysseus is to be shot.

The production seems to have been a troubling one - the (american) producers were apparently unhappy with the film, to the point where the producer insisted on having nude scenes of Bardot in the film because he apparently did not know how to sell a film he "hated". Godard was forced to use Cinemascope, but reportedly hated the entire ordeal of shooting the film. Lang was, by this point, almost blind. Bardot was chased by Paparazzi, who had to be fended off in-between takes (which concluded in a short documentary by Godard shot on-set), and Godard was apparently unhappy with her "unnatural" (read emotional) portrayal of her character, causing rifts, which seemingly caused Bardot herself to become depressed (it is very important to note that Godard worked with her again though, casting her in a small role for Masculin, Feminin, indicating the two did get along better than the press led viewers to believe).

So all in all, the shoot was a complete mess!! But of all these problems don't interfere in the slightest - the structure and narrative are exceptional and experimental, Bardot certainly performs one of her finest characters and the resulting film sucks the audience in like no other work of the french director (or any other film that has been made). Maybe the reason why Godard hated making it so much was not just due to the trouble with the producers, but also because the film does portray something alien to his work both before and after - a personal, individual point of view that is highly autobiographical, instead of a social or political thesis.

What makes Le Mépris such an utter joy to watch is not just Godard's approach to post modernism, Bardot's lovely face or Lang's enlightening comments on filmmaking ("Cinemascope is only good for snakes and coffins.") - it's the utter joy with which Godard takes apart each and everything that is dear to him and beautiful for the viewer. We see small glimpses of Lang's film, a visionary, poetic and experimental feature, only for it to be torn to shreds by its unsympathetic producer. We see Bardot walk around with, mostly, nothing on her skin, but she radiates an aura of hate and loathing. Nothing is safe from Godard - not filmmaking, not his idols, not the audience and definitely not his own marriage.

There are hundreds of nuances to be discussed, from the more than 30-minute long fight of the couple to the mirroring remarks of Lang and the producer, the philosophy of filmmaking and the de-mystification of relationships - but all the analyzing and theorizing is nothing against the sheer power of the film. A masterpiece!

FINAL VERDICT: 10/10 - a masterpiece, must be seen!