Archipelago - A Very British Drama

I had the pleasure of watching Joanna Hogg’s second feature ,Archipelago, tonight. Although at first I was apprehensive, I needn’t worry – it was another solid drama that traded in real characters in real situations.

The film focuses on a family that comes together before the son goes to Africa on a voluntary mission – they’ve rented a small cottage on a remote island off the British mainland – in fact the only way to get to the island seems to be via a helicopter taxi service of some sorts.

The family , which consists of the mother, the two siblings and a missing father , bicker and fight. Resentment simmers just under the surface. In this strange environments are also two strangers: Rose, a young cook hired for the two weeks and Christopher , a painter, who is a family friend.

To be honest not much else happens. It’s everyday stuff, shot in wide shots without the use of any incidental music whatsoever. Ms. Hogg avoids close-ups when she can giving the whole thing a more natural feel.

As I was watching this rather terrific drama, I thought of how good the British are at making films with small dramatic focus that get their energy from real life. Mike Leigh’s ‘Another Year’ was one of my favourites last year. It thrived on low-key drama with real to life characters.

When Hollywood goes independent , the result is usually the same: weird-quirky , mumblecore products which seem to be running parallel to life as opposed to through it. Whereas over here, our kitchen sink is exemplar – a knack exists for capturing characters straight from the heart of everyday.

I always felt that the British Film Industry’s biggest mistake was trying to turn its’ gaze towards west, in specific towards Hollywood. There is no such thing as a universal product and to be honest an American audience strikes me as one of the pickiest in the world.

However, turn your gaze towards Europe and you find similarities. The French are extremely adept at rural dramas about the lost countryside, the Italian do fading nobility better than anyone else, Spaniards get away with the most brilliant urbane stories, Eastern Europe can create low-key suffering during difficult times (especially communist regime) like no-one else.

A shared attitude and viewpoint pairs our kitchen sink dramas to the output coming from these countries. And it seems almost silly to me that we never take advantage of this to propel forward our films.

The Unsung Masterpieces

Over the past ten years or so I’ve noticed a trend in my reading habits: owing to continous disappointment with modern literature (even with recommendations from colleagues, friends, professionals, etc, etc) I’ve found myself delving deeper and deeper into the writers of yesteryear.

Now I’ve already got a fairly out-of-control pulp addiction: I constantly collect these beautiful paperback books from second hand fairs, boot sales, library sales, bookshops – wherever you can think of, in fact.

And pulp is an often underrated genre , one which can pack in a dense and accurate protrayal of the human psyche but often ignored by the mainstream media except for a few key writers.

But I also started reading classics from the beginning of time up until the 1980′s, with exceptions allowed of course.

As a guide I took TIME magazine’s best novels of the 20th century and slowly used that list to expand my list bigger and bigger. I’ve also kept an eye out for unsung writers – often re-publications of certain books is the way to go for finding out more about these.

Seeing my newfound obsession, my friends and family responded fairly well. I’m proud to say I’ve received nothing but books this Christmas and the one I’m reading at the moment – ‘London Belongs To Me’ is rather brilliant.

Actually written in 1945, the novel is set in 1938 and depicts an assortment of characters all drawn from London Life. It’s sprawling, often rambling and hilarious in places – reminiscent of the city it’s depicting.

It never ceases to amaze me how much forgotten and yet absolutely worthwhile art exists out there in the ether. Paintings, Albums, Novels, Films – and although the internet has made research and access easier UNLESS you know what you’re looking for the whole process often ends up being limited to a very small circle of titles.

So, dear reader, I wanted to pose a challenge to you. Do you think you could come up with a small list of forgotten masterpieces?

It does not matter what branch of the arts the work belongs to. All I ask, nay demand, of you is that the work in question should be relatively obscure and yet worthy of attention.

To start you off and to give you an idea here’s a list of books which have been largely forgotten in the throes of time but should be required reading for any literate person.

Hangover Square, London Belongs To Me, The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter, Appointnment In Samarra,Go Tell It On The Mountain.

The Art Of Selling Out

I’m enjoying OneADay project at the moment – I rather like going through my fellow blogger’s posts and reading about their interests and lives. And as luck would have it, one blog I read has given me the idea for today’s ramble.

On her blog, Weefz wrote an article about selling out – now I don’t really have a high horse about anything in the world but a paragraph of hers piqued my interest in particular:

I know more than a few people who refuse to accept advertising or payment for websites because it would dilute the integrity of their art, or some shit. I don’t know what they really believe but I honestly, truly and with all my heart simply CANNOT understand how taking money for doing something you were going to do anyway is selling out. Even better, taking money for something you love to do. Reviewers are paid for their opinions, are they not?

The original article can be found here: http://weefz.wordpress.com/2011/01/03/oneaday-3-selling-out/

Now I’m no idealistic Jimmy Stewart gosh darn us vs them freedom fighter. I understand economic principles succinctly.

However the view being taken here strikes me as rather naive – and I feel obliged to stand up for the other side.

There was a recent string of discussion within the food blogging world – whether accepting free meals interfered with the integrity of the writer and the article. Although there was some solid arguments from both sides, the best solution , at least for my money’s worth, was specifically writing in the article that the meal was paid for by the restaurant.

It’s true that the reviewers are paid for their opinions but those opinions are expressed without the interference of any third-party. The moment someone starts paying you to write your opinion the whole process becomes askew. They get to shape your opinion simply because what you’re selling is no longer your own.

It’d be lovely to live in an ideal world where companies would pay us and we’d write what we were going to write anyway.

Unfortunately it does not work like that.

Once a company pays for something, the relationship between the company and the reviewer changes. In the USA people who live off the generosity off the studios are referred to as junket whores. It’s a real term. And most of the time the reviews they write are one-sided, they’re not opinions, they’re PR pieces.

This applies to any industry. All the controversy GameSpot has had over the past few years is because of the adverts they take and the ‘reviews’ the games advertised get.

Bullshit is detected very quickly on the web – people know whether someone is actually writing from the heart or is merely a marketing ploy quickly.

A quick experiment: next 3 weeks, look at for films which are universally slammed – on the posters, you’ll see a couple of good reviews – always from the same small group of people – and if you compare the advertising given in the publications they work for – hell, the arrangement will become crystal clear.

This does not mean taking advertisement on a website is evil – but one has to define boundaries. If the website becomes completely reliant on advertising from companies and that website will lose its’ ability to write honest and true reviews. The editor will be forced to change the shape of articles or even dictate what the final article should curtail.

For my money’s worth, I find it easiest not to accept anything. The organisation I work for paying things is absolutely fine – getting review copies, no problem but anything beyond is simply a no-no. I work for a publication. If they want me to cover an event, they’ll stump up the cash for it. Free holiday, free tours, expensive gifts are simply not going to benefit my article or my publication. It’ll just make me richer.

ROger Ebert writes in his little rule book for critics:

No commercial endorsements. This used to be a given in journalism ethics. A critic must be especially vigilant. If you express approval of a product, you must sincerely believe what you are saying. How will we know you’re sincere? Because you have (1) accepted no money, (2) or donated the money to a charity, and (3) have not accepted a free example of the product, except in such cases as foodstuffs, where the difficulties are apparent. You gotta eat ‘em to review ‘em. The Sun-Times has a policy: All Christmas gifts must be returned, except for perishables like papayas, etc. Candy is not a perishable. Neither, to the incredulity of many reporters, is liquor. Back to endorsements. Were I to recommend, say, a rice cooker, that must not imply I obtained it for free, or that 100 lb. sacks of rice were being dropped at my door. I mention this because I may be compelled to recommend a rice cooker in the very near future, in defense of my Who’s Who entry, which claims I can cook almost anything in a rice cooker.

(Actually Roger's little rule book is well worth reading in its' entirety: http://blogs.suntimes.com/ebert/2008/10/eberts_little_rule_book.html)

I agree with him wholeheartedly. If you want people to take you seriously, take what you write seriously then it’s your journalistic obligation to prove to them that what they’re reading is not just another form of paid for advertisement.I agre

Otherwise there’s no need for anyone to be journalist. Just sign your name at the bottom of the article written by the Pr and collect your cheque at the end of the month.

Behzat C And the anti-hero seduction

For the past month or so I’ve found myself engrossed in a T.V. series with a gruff but interesting anti-hero at its’ core: the rule book does not apply to him and under no circumstances would you consider him ‘good’ – but he is a true man – bound by a strange set of ethics and moral code.

No the series in question is neither House nor Luther – in fact this show is not even in English.

After years of complaining that my native country Turkey did not produce any quality television I found myself with a program which seemed determined to disturb any soap-box attitudes I had.

The program in question is called Behzat C and it focuses on a detective in the murder squad in Ankara – Turkey’s capital.

This is the first point the program scores – by setting it somewhere other than Istanbul or the rural Anatolia. Ankara albeit being the capital somehow gets looked down upon most of the time. It’s right in the heart of the country and its’ association with politics and bureaucrats has not done the reputation any good – most people refer to ‘Ankara’ as dull.

Now, I’ve never visited the place so am not really in any position to pass judgement. After all each city has its’ supporters and detractors and I’m sure ‘Ankara’ is no different.

However as a member of the audience, I find great joy in seeing an unusual location – especially in a procedural series which is heavily reliant on location.

Moving on, the second point ‘Behzat C’ scores is in its’ characters: a motley crew of anti-social, semi-educated coppers who solve crime by using an old-fashioned mix of brutality and intellect. Not everyone in the team is such – there’s a younger policeman, a woman policeman and even a university graduate. However these characters exist only in the sidelines – more as fodder than anything else to our team of four.

The relationship between the police and the public in Turkey is a very curious one: there’s a lack of trust on both sides due to a long history of incidents and so the police PR department fires on all cylinders at all time trying to project a clean-cut image.

Up to this point the depiction of the average policeman on T.V. has been unrealistic to say the least: and if you have an unrealistic central character then everything you build upon that base falls also.

Not Behzat. He represents a policeman all of us have seen or encountered at one point. But the writer takes it one step further and makes Behzat a strangely decent man, too.

The ying-yang of his personality is perhaps the biggest attraction for the audience. In Turkey the question of whether the series excuses police brutality has become a hot topic – however the question of the anti-hero is skimmed over rather easily.

From my point of view, Behzat represents a character like Alex in ‘A Clockwork Orange’ or Gully Foyle in ‘The Stars My Destination’ – a complex man both repulsive and attractive. And encountering such a character on a show put on prime time Turkish television represents something of a coup for me.

He drinks, swears, goes to the equivalent of strip clubs, has a prostitute for an occasional lover. His interests lack refinement, books, films these are all lost causes – however football remains a one true love.

We’re not up to episode 14 and although the quality of the episodes varies greatly, I know that this is something I’ll stick through until the end.

It’s a shame it’ll be a guilty pleasure only ever available to a Turkish audience.

Mysteries of Lisbon and The Lost Art Of Storytelling

Last night as the clocks struck 04.00 A.M. and most of London slept soundly in their beds; I was trying to find my senses again after a whirlwind trip of 19th Century Portugal.

This trip; which took four and a half hours, was directed by a master of intrigue: a man who was so talented at adapting the original material I never felt the time pass.

Of course the trip in question is not real - it was a sensory trip on the wings of a beautiful new movie called 'Mysteries Of Lisbon' directed by Raoul Ruiz - a master director who has made over a countless number of films during his decades spanning career.

The book the film is based on is a classic of Portuguese literature - a dense tome akin to Victor Hugo's Les Miserables and just as captivating. Starting with the story of a young orphan boy and travelling through a maze of characters whose stories add a layer each to the story.

But then again Ruiz is no stranger to difficult adaptation: he was the man behind the largely successful Proust on the silver screen - the beautiful and almost-perfect 'Time Regained' from 1999 with Catherine Deneuve and John Malkovich.

'Mysteries of Lisbon' was originally shot for television - in that format the whole thing runs at 6 hours. For the movie version the running time has been trimmed to 4 1/2 hours - for most people this will still seem long. However after watching the film, I feel most members of the audience will be compelled to seek out the even longer T.V. version once it screens during 2011.

The attraction with Ruiz's works does not come from lush landscapes and exhilarating action - no, here the star of the show is good, old-fashioned storytelling. As each character reveals more of themselves and thereby the central story, the world comes alive - each person is both black and white, the ruffians, the nobility, the holy men - each has a distinct angle to this strange world without whose aid the picture can never be considered complete.

After the film had ended and I had somehow made it into my warm bed, I thought about storytelling in general: as an audience member I'm easily excited and hooked - however I still firmly believe that a good story will always captivate , no matter who the audience are.

From the scheherazade in '1001 Nights' to the stories of 'Twilight Zone' our culture thrives upon the idea of storytelling - the skill lies in being able to choose the right story and the ability to tell it correctly.

I know 4 1/2 hours in the cinema will seem like an eternity to some people - the chances of 'Mysteries Of Lisbon' being a breakout hit are slim. As popular culture continues to push the idea of fast & furious to destroy our attention span, I was very pleased to spend a few hours in the company of someone who could prove that sometimes slow works best.

So although the plot might not at first grab you, do me a favor. Go see 'Lisbon' when it's released in the U.K. or wherever you may life. Turn off your blackberry, shut down your ipad , push the unnecessarily hectic pace of life aside for a moment and allow yourself to bask in the stories on the screen.

You might even find yourselves enjoying it.

Of Ghosts and Ghouls and Goblins...

One of my favourite moments this Christmas was watching the re-imagining of 'Whistle and I'll Come To You' - now usually, I have a lot of problems with remakes: the majority of them tend to be unimaginative cash-in efforts made by people who have spent the minimum required time to even grasp the original effort.

However this being the BBC and Mr. John Hurt; a terrific actor by anyone's standards, being the lead, I found myself slowly getting excited.

And it turns out with good reason, too. After last year's disappointing effort by Mark Gatiss, here, finally, was a ghost story which although clearly inspired by some modern names , managed to instill in the audience an increasing sense of dread and ended on the sort of note that keeps coming back to haunt you at night.

I've always been a big fan of old-fashioned ghost stories. Although most modern horror leaves me cold, the Pan Horror Collections of the late 60s/early 70's continue to throw up gems which can send shivers up anyone's spine.

ON top of this we are privy to some of the best radio adaptation in the world: and with the advent of digital radio more and more old time radio content becomes available at the drop of a hat. For me this is geek nirvana.

The scariest show I know is 'Fear On Four' - a BBC produced anthology which has had an on and off life all over the last couple of decades. I've still not managed to listen to every episode of the show not because of the difficulty in finding the episodes but simply because there is nothing as scary and I simply don't want to run out of broadcasts.

I know many people find it difficult enjoying radio plays - for me though there is nothing like dimming the lights and sitting down with a snifter of cognac and letting your imagination run wild.

Yesterday also brought about a small session of Ghost Stories - the ones produced by BBC; some for Christmas, others for one-off specials. I'd been kindly given an episode of a show called 'Dead Of Night' called 'The Exorcism' and had been meaning to watch it.

Sitting down with it yesterday, I was struck by how menacing the atmosphere on the programme was - a gentle build-up of terror led to a full-blown release of the unknown: by the time the characters rationally accepted their fates, it had become almost unbearable.

The other brilliant point came through the use of sharp and snappy dialogue: two couples, both pair very believable, tried to keep sane as the supernatural manifested itself around them - they tried to use their rationale and their intellect to understand the nature of the evil that was threatening their being.

They spoke like real people and acted like real people; in contrast to most the dramas on offer today because there was no easy access to special effects or fancy camerawork, the scriptwriters hard to work twice as hard to make the story believable. And it paid off. By the time the bleak ending had come round, I truly felt uneasy.

I've always had an infinite love for the moving picture - in my estimation cinema (and television to some extent) somehow always end up being maligned - as one of the branches of Art, they are considered almost too common - cinema being regarded only as a tool of escapism and entertainment.

I thought of this even as I read the contributor's descriptions on the OneADay Project page - my bio ended with: 'Follow Evrim if you want something to talk about at parties' - cinema being the easygoing conversation for people with a glass in their hands.

Now I have no problems with being the sparkle in any party conversation BUT for me the moving image can offer so much more. It can provide the grounds for intelligent and fierce debate - just as classic texts can use language to provide intellectual material m the cinema has its' own lexicon.

A minor point, I'm aware. However it still made me want use it as a springboard.

The audience is part of this problem - in a hideous and ugly circle, what gets consumed is determined by the audience which in turn effects the next layer of production - so a gradual rot, once set in place, gathers momentum over time, reducing the quality of what's on offer.

I understand distinctly that we need more than just high-brow art - there is a need for entertainment and fun, too - no one can watch 'Shoah' everyday , sometimes you need a little 'Titanic', too - however what I can't escape is a lack of standards: our lowest common denominator needs to be kept as high as possible therefore we can be proud of even our smalles achievement.

The BBC used to achieve this often and well - the ratio is less now and watching these old Ghost Stories is a distinct reminder that there are certain skills of storytelling which have dissolved and disappeared over time. Which is tragic.

At least this year's Ghost Story gave me some hope for the future - if the ratings confirm its' succes, maybe the next one will be a similar effort.

2011 - Start as we mean to go on

I'll be using my usual blog to participate in the One A Day project - why? Simply because I need the motivation to keep me going - I love writing, it's what I do for a living when I can but sometimes the discipline is simply not there - it just sorta flounders.

So 2011 is going to be the year I write - furiously, grubbily, happily, diffidently - in any mood, in any place, in any situation.

As this is the first day of a new year, I haven't really had time to watch anything yet - in fact I've barely woken up.

But I can point out that I plan to view at least three films today and so tomorrow's post should be richer in content.

I can, however, say that my New Year's Eve was a blast - I've come to realise years ago that the best way to enter any occassion is with like-minded people engaged in stimulating conversation.

In the meantime, welcome to the New Year. Let's have some fun.