Showing posts with label hannibal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hannibal. Show all posts

Thursday, 15 October 2009

Magic

The Incredible Suit is part of The Cineastes, a group of bloggers who review a film a month and link blogs in the hope of spreading the word of whatever it is we’re on about. October’s film is Magic, directed by Richard Attenborough in 1978.

Magic stars Anthony Hopkins as Corky, a struggling magician who incorporates a ventriloquist’s dummy, Fats, into his act in order to achieve greater success. Corky’s agent lands him a pilot for a TV series but the studio demands he undergo a medical examination before they sign the contract. It turns out they were quite right to do so; Corky’s as mad as a parachuteful of badgers, his personality split firmly down the middle with Fats taking the confident, aggressive side and leaving Corky the timid, hopeless loser half. It’s only a matter of time before one of them takes things too far…

…and that’s it. This might have once been an edgy thriller with a few shocks and a terrifying dummy, but now the scariest thing about it is Anthony Hopkins’ jumper. It’s a passable 100 minutes but it’s all quite predictable and ordinary and lacking in, well, magic.

Hopkins delivers an admirable performance, something he’s stopped bothering with these days. Yes, I know he’s a national treasure (especially having abandoned Wales to become a naturalised American), and he was good in The Silence Of The Lambs, but since then he’s only ever been Hannibal Lecter in a series of inappropriate situations. The Remains Of The Day: ooh look, Hannibal Lecter’s serving tea and cucumber sandwiches! Nixon: ooh look, Hannibal Lecter’s the President! Hannibal: ooh look, Hannibal Lecter’s playing Hannibal Lecter, how postmodern! Anyway, in Magic he gives a convincing portrayal of a movie schizophrenic, but a sympathetic depiction of mental illness this isn’t. And his accent, like the man himself, can’t decide between Welsh and American.

Speaking of indecision, as I may or may not have been, there’s some debate about whether Fats actually had a soul and was a separate entity to Corky, or if he was just Corky’s hatstand alter ego. The story waits until the last few minutes to decide, and it probably made the right choice because a sentient homunculus would have been a step too far down the ludicrous path for The Incredible Suit. Which, coincidentally, is my mentally troubled other self.

There is one excellent scene, in which Corky fails to prove he can exist without Fats for five minutes - a truly great shot shows Fats taking over with just a simple camera move - but Magic’s only other noteworthy aspect is that it features possibly the least sexy sex scene ever between Hopkins and Ann-Margret, both notoriously shy actors. It looks like they’ve bumped into each other in a corridor and are awkwardly trying to get out of each other’s way. Only naked.

On which queasy note I’ll leave you, with an “average” judgement hanging in the air like an indifferent, dispassionate cauliflower.



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You can read the rest of The Cineastes' reviews of Magic by clicking the links below:

The Third Act

Thursday, 13 August 2009

Trouser-Browning Terror

Glorified Hovis salesman Ridley Scott is apparently preparing a prequel to his masterpiece, Alien. As you know, Alien is a completely perfect film, which clamped itself to the face of moviedom, shoved a tentacle down its throat and left a little something in its belly, which burst forth from the very ribcage of cinema in the shape of Aliens, another completely perfect film.

Aliens then went on to do a big sloppy poo on the lounge carpet, which appeared to be called Alien Cubed, and that poo had a little worm living in it which became Alien Resurrection, but we do not speak of such things here at The Incredible Suit.

Having put you off your lunch, let me get on with this prequel nonsense. Much as I love Alien, Ridley Scott is one of those directors – like Tim Burton and Martin Scorsese – whose films I blindly look forward to and hope will be fantastic, despite knowing full well that they frequently turn out to be a bit cack. Blade Runner? Not bad, but hardly the second coming it’s made out to be. Gladiator? Overrated. Hannibal? I’d rather eat my own brains.

So I’m afraid I can’t get excited about an Alien prequel. If it absolutely must be made (it mustn’t) then I suppose Scott’s the man to do it (or James Cameron), but I can’t see how it’ll work. Alien and Aliens succeed because we identify with the humans and share their trouser-browning terror at the prospect of an unsolicited trepanning at the hands of a vicious space beastie. But for a prequel to work it would have to show how the Aliens got involved with the ‘Space Jockey’, the fossilized, horribly violated creature we see near the beginning of Alien in the derelict spacecraft. Personally I’d rather not know; I can make up my own backstory for him. Maybe he was an intergalactic pizza delivery boy who turned up at the Aliens’ house 45 minutes late with the wrong topping and forgot the garlic bread, in which case he got everything he deserved.

My point is, the story would require the complete absence of humans to remain plausible, and the only successful movies not to feature any actual, genuine, living, breathing people are the High School Musical films.

There are dozens more obstacles in the way of this project, so if Ridders pulls it off it’ll be a minor miracle. In which case I’ll be only too happy to blog about it and say, “I told you it would be brilliant”, and that’ll be the poster quote you’ll see at bus stops and train stations the world over.

The Incredible Suit's Top 5 Ridley Scott films:
1. Alien
2. Blade Runner
3. Thelma & Louise
4. Er…
5. Hmm.

Of course what I really want to know is: What’s your greatest Ridley Scott film, like, ever? I know, let’s do a poll! Which reminds me, The Breakfast Club was your favourite John Hughes film. You’re wrong. Weird Science is tiptops.

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