The Watchers

The Watchers
Showing posts with label james marsh. Show all posts
Showing posts with label james marsh. Show all posts

Friday, 26 June 2020

The Watchers' Feelgood Films (Part 7) - Documentary Special (Part 2)


Well, we're still in lockdown... in Wales, at least .So here's a seventh instalment of The Watchers' Feelgood Films, where we'll give you some suggestions or recommendation for films that might cheer you up if you're locked down. 

Today, it's a Matt-Tez sandwich (ooer, missus!) with three more documentary films that'll make you feel good. 



Man on Wire (2008)

Dir: James Marsh
Starring: Philippe Petit, Jean-François Heckel, and Jean-Louis Blondeau 

Man on Wire is a real-life heist film. It’s not money the robbers are after, but “the artistic crime of the century”.

In 1974, Philippe Petit broke into and tightrope walked between New York’s Twin Towers with no safety net, nothing to break his fall, just a 1,780-foot drop. James Marsh’s film is the story of how Petit accomplished this literally death-defying feat.

Everything – the set ups, the pacing, the music – makes Man on Wire feel like a primetime TV thriller. You know Petit achieves what he set out to do, but Marsh creates a real tension throughout. Time and again, Petit and his gang are nearly caught, their plans foiled, but miraculously dodge security.

Man on Wire is emotional as well as thrilling. Several members of Petit’s group bow out because, as one puts it, “I don’t want to be responsible for the death of a friend”. As Petit and his cohorts reminisce, there is the knowing that, tragically, this is a feat that can never be repeated.

While Nixon, Watergate, and the seedy workings of the White House were exposed to the world, here was a man who literally rose above it all to accomplish his dream. It’s no understatement to say that Man on Wire is a film you must see.

Matt

* * *


The Aristocrats (2005)

Dir: Penn Jillette and Paul Provenza
Starring: George Carlin, Whoopi Goldberg, Robin Williams, Bob Saget, and Gilbert Gottfried

What's the filthiest joke you know? I think mine involves a cheating husband and a parrot who used to live in a brothel... but whatever it is, I can guarantee you, it won't be as filthy as 'The Aristocrats'.

A joke that's been told from the early days of vaudeville up to the present day (and apparently Johnny Carson's favourite joke), the set-up and punchline are set. A guy goes into a talent agent's office and says to the agent "Have I got an act for you!". He proceeds to describe an act full of the most vulgar, deviant, disgusting acts known to man or beast (sometimes even involving man and beast, depending on who is telling the joke). When he finishes, the agent- either shellshocked and utterly appalled, or massively intrigued- says "what do you call an act like that?" The punchline is... "The Aristocrats".  

It's the middle section (discussing the content of the act) where comedians can get inventive, creative, and just downright obscene. In this jawdropping documentary, one hundred comedians- including such comic luminaries as George Carlin, Whoopi Goldberg, Robin Williams, and Phyllis Diller- discuss, analyse, deconstruct and deliver their own versions of the world's dirtiest joke. 

The very definition of a one-joke film, the documentary is certainly not for the fainthearted, prudish, conservative, or easily outraged. Some of the acts described are beyond the bounds of acceptable human decency. Some of the topics raised would definitely fall under the category of "things you shouldn't joke about";  as Gilbert Gottfried says "You can put people to death for what goes on in the best versions of this joke!"

But the point is this: this was never meant to be a joke told to an audience as part of a set (audiences would be rightly offended and probably walk out  if even five percent of some of the renditions ended up on stage); instead, it was used as a warm-up exercise and an inside joke among comedians, a playful competition to try and outdo one another. And the variations of the joke between each comic sheds a fascinating light on how comedy works, when and how to push the boundaries, what's acceptable... and what's not. 

Gottfried is, as you'd expect, an exception to the "don't-tell-it-in-public" rule: in fact, the joke became well-known in the mainstream when he delivered a masterclass rendition of it at a Comedy Central/New York Friars' Club roast of Hugh Hefner recorded just weeks after the 9/11 attacks, to win back an audience he'd lost by making a crass joke about the World Trade Center (to boos and cries of "toon soon" from the audience). Of course, when the Roast was broadcast on television, this section was almost entirely censored: as Gottfried himself said "They might have to clean this up". Watching The Aristocrats, you'll see why...

Of course, whilst a lot of the film is fairly base in its relentless litany of bodily fluids, incest, bestiality, and murder (which will be wearying for some), there's some interesting variations- one told by a mime artist, for instance, another by a ventriloquist, and there's an interesting subversion of the joke when Wendy Liebman and T. Sean Shannon describe very genteel acts with very offensive names. There's also some fascinating discussions about the art of crafting a joke. 

This won't be for everyone. You need to have a firm stomach and a fairly lax sense of humour for this to be enjoyable. But for fans of comedy and fans of how comedy works (even for people interested in the psychology of comedians), this is one of the rare occasions where comparing examining a joke to dissecting a frog- i.e. you find out how it works but the frog dies- doesn't come into play. 

Tez

* * *


Searching for Sugar Man (2012)

Dir: Malik Bendjelloul
Starring: Sixto Rodriguez, Stephen 'Sugar' Segerman, Ilse Assmann, Craig Bartholomew-Strydom, and Malik Bendjelloul

Malik Bendjelloul’s documentary is about a musician, but it’s not exclusively for music buffs. Searching for Sugar Man is a mystery, a tale of second chances and redemption.

Back in the sixties, Detroit singer-songwriter Sixto Rodriguez began a promising music career only to vanish, never seen nor heard from again. Rodriguez became a riddle, a puzzle to solve; there were rumours that he killed himself on stage, but there was never any proof. During its 90 minutes, Bendjelloul investigates what happened to this enigmatic artist. Bendjelloul’s journey, where he ends up, is genuinely moving and uplifting. I have seen Searching for Sugar Man several times and have yet to watch it from beginning to end without crying.

Bendjelloul discovers that Rodriguez, the man and his music, became a figurehead, the soundtrack for those in South Africa fighting against apartheid. He was the voice of a generation; loved and understood by people thousands of miles from Detroit.

Searching for Sugar Man would be a brilliant film if it stopped there. What happens next is something that would play out in a soaring, classic Oscar winner.

As well as the film, you need to give the soundtrack a go; Rodriguez’s music is gorgeously laidback and uplifting.

If you have never seen Searching for Sugar Man, avoid the internet and watch it being blissfully unaware of its subject. There is a reason why this film ends up in top ten documentary lists, when the credits roll you will be left beaming and drying your eyes.

Matt

Tuesday, 6 January 2015

The Theory of Everything (UK Cert: 12A)


It’s a horrible thing to say, and might just get the blog taken down, but I’ve never thought about Professor Stephen Hawking’s life before he was diagnosed with motor neurone disease; I never realised that he was married, had three children, or that he is now seventy-two years old. For most of its running time, The Theory of Everything, directed by James Marsh (Man on Wire, Project Nim), subtly and compassionately depicts the professor’s life, his marriage to Jane Wilde, as well as his struggles with ALS.

This year’s Oscar nominations have yet to be announced, but it’s going to be a tough call as to who wins Best Actor. In a category that’s going to be the most contested in years, Eddie Redmayne (My Week with Marilyn, Les Misérables), in his first lead role, may well take home the prize, and no one could argue that he doesn’t deserve it. Starting off with a twitch of the hand, or a stumble, Redmayne gives a faultless and heartrending performance as Hawking’s body slowly deteriorates, eventually resembling the hunched figure who we all recognise. Redmayne never forgets the tragic irony surrounding Hawking, a supremely intelligent, funny, and compassionate man trapped inside his own body; his eyes revealing the loneliness and frustration he feels, as well as the odd mischievous glance accompanied by a playful smile.

While Redmayne is getting all the column inches, Felicity Jones (Cemetery Junction, The Invisible Woman) also does some excellent work as Jane, much of the film’s power coming from her hurting to see the man she loves being taken away from her, but realising that inside that brittle body, her husband is still there. Jane expected the disease to take her husband quickly, for him not to suffer, she never expected the ALS to break down his body so cruelly and slowly, that Stephen would still be alive decades later.

The main reason that the film works so well is down to the rapport between Redmayne and Jones. There’s plenty for couples to recognise: laughing through the tough times, how stubborn they both are, hurting each other by not saying how they’re feeling. Redmayne and Jones convincingly put across how much Stephen and Jane love each other, as well as how different they are as people, their marriage lasting for so long when other couples would have given up.

The Theory of Everything isn’t quite the flawless weepie, Marsh once-or-twice putting the point across with a sledgehammer, whereas the rest of the film is gentle and thoughtful. The worst offender is one of the final scenes where, at a conference, Hawking is asked how he feels, looking back at his life. We cut to Hawking daydreaming, everything and everyone around him frozen as he gets out of his wheelchair and picks a pen up off the floor. This feels at odds with the rest of the film, which shows Hawking’s ever-worsening condition in a frank and modest way; you don’t feel like you’re being manipulated into shedding a tear. It’s as if this scene was thrown in for audiences who want nuance put across in slow motion, orchestral score blaring.

This only happens in a couple of scenes, and doesn’t ruin things. Probably the best word to describe The Theory of Everything is how eloquent it is. Eloquent in how it portrays Hawking overcoming his illness, fighting to communicate what is going on inside his head, both his incredible mind as well as his love for Jane; eloquent in showing how Jane was also struggling along with her husband, pushed and tested for over twenty years; and eloquent in how complex marriage can be, two people fighting for the same thing in different ways, usually getting things right, but not always. Like Hawking, The Theory of Everything is smarter than its peers, funny, and unashamedly hopeful.

4 out of 5

Matt