Second Is The New First

The Incredible Suit is celebrating today. Thanks to gaining almost as many votes as Ultra Culture in the Sky Movies Blog Of The Year Competition, I am now the proud writer, editor and tea boy of:

The Second Best Blog Of The
Year Run By One Person!

Like Buzz Aldrin, Scott Of The Antarctic and the egg (or possibly the chicken) before me, I can now proudly take my place in the pantheon of almost-ran nearly men who just weren't quite good enough, fast enough or on Film 2011 enough to be the best of the best.

I should like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who voted for The Incredible Suit, and to express regret that I am unable to buy each of you the drink I promised if I won. Although frankly that also comes with a certain amount of relief.

Dr Henry Jones Sr. once said: "In thish short of rashe, there'sh no shilver medal for finishing shecond", and do you know what? He was absolutely right. Nothing. Not a sausage. Still, I take a quantum of solace in the fact that my future, like those of my fellow first-placed-losers, looks peachy.

Never Let Me Go

I saw Never Let Me Go at the London Film Festival back in October, and in an oversight almost as bad as the Death Star builders forgetting to fit the Thermal Exhaust Port Anti-Proton Torpedo Cover, I spectacularly failed to write a review at the time, and now I can't remember anything about it.

Fortunately I took copious and detailed notes, so this post won't be a complete disaster after all (shut up).

OK, so what can we deduce from that?

1. Carey Mulligan and Andrew Garfield get two ticks. This either means that they're both very good, or that I was guessing who would be in the film and got them both right.

2. The next line looks like "Knightley not bad but less (tick)". I think I'm making the point that Keira Knightley is not as good as Mulligan or Garfield. I don't know why I bothered to write that down, my Mum could probably have told me that would be the case.

3. The words "slow, mysterious, unease, tragic" lead me to the conclusion that I felt the film had elements of slowness, mysteriousness, uneasiness and tragicness. I bet this is exacty how Barry Norman used to work.

4. I've written a number 7 in a circle in the corner, so I suppose I must have given it 7 out of 10. Alternatively I was working on a new, revolutionary '007' logo to sell to the Broccoli family for millions so I could retire and live the life I so richly deserve.

So there you have it: Never Let Me Go in eleven words, three symbols and a number. Makes you wonder why Robbie Collin gets paid so much.

Saturday Playlist #18: John Barry

There isn't much that can be said about John Barry that hasn't been said elsewhere this week. All I would add is that he was a great hero of mine who enriched my life immeasurably with some of the most perfect music ever to accompany what Caitlin Moran quite accurately described as "some right-wing sex-tourist crashing a load of cars."

The Incredible Suit has already cobbled together three playlists that include some of his best work - James Bond In The 1960s, 1970s and 1980s. This week's playlist gathers more Bond tunes and some of Barry's other, equally terrific work.

CLICK HERE TO LISTEN TO

SATURDAY PLAYLIST #18:

JOHN BARRY

An Exclusive Interview With News Of The World Film Critic Robbie "Not Collins" Collin!!!

The world of film criticism is a tough one. With so many professional journalists and amateur but devilishly handsome bloggers all fighting for the eyes and ears of the review-reading public, one has to stand head and shoulders above the rest of the pack to be noticed. And thanks to the fact that he's at least seven feet tall, one man does that, and that man is Robbie Collin - film critic, prince of puns and unashamed (and possibly delusional) fan of Roman Polanski's The Ghost.

Born in Edinburgh at the tender age of zero, Robbie eventually grew tall enough to study English and Philosophy at the University of St Andrews, making him far more intelligent than many give him credit for, especially those who read his Hot Tub Time Machine review. He joined News Of The World in 2003 and four long years of tea-making later became the paper's film critic. He's now a member of BAFTA and the London Critics' Film Circle, and positive reviews from him that include grotesquely brilliant puns adorn bus stops up and down the land.

However, it's his bite-sized damning verdicts that have earned him the status "That guy that said that thing". To wit:

"Machite" (Machete)

"Indepen-dunce Day" (Skyline)

"Dung Fu" (The Last Airbender)

"Stalagshite" (Sanctum)
"Brighton crock" (Brighton Rock)

"Appauling" (Paul)*

The Incredible Suit was determined to find out what a man such as this might choose as his favourite colour, and so asked him a series of inane questions in order to butter him up before bringing out the big guns. Here's more or less how the conversation went:

Seeing as the laws of probability suggest that nobody reading this will ever become News Of The World Film Critic, what’s a typical week like in the life of a News Of The World Film Critic? I rise at 2pm on a Monday, do a quick circuit of the movie studios’ head offices to collect my weekly bungs, then like all newspaper journalists who don’t work for The Guardian, I’ll sit down, set fire to a piece of human rights legislation, and work out how to further the pro-capitalism, anti-democracy agenda. Ho ho, just joking of course! It’s exactly like you’d imagine. Every week I watch around eight films in the various screening rooms in central London and afterwards write up one of my trademark “inimitable sideways looks at the movie”. I also write film-based features and news items for the paper and appear as a pundit on Sky and the BBC. People may assume you know bog all about film because you write for a paper that is primarily interested in football, Jordan and The X Factor, whereas I suspect you actually know quite a lot about proper films. What’s the most properest film you’ve seen? I’m not going to self-importantly dredge up my double first MA (Hons) in English and Philosophy with a focus on aesthetics and the philosophy of film, but I know a bit, and if I didn’t know what I was talking about, the News Of The World wouldn’t employ me. Let’s be honest, I’m hardly bringing good looks, celebrity or anything else useful to the table. I saw an Ozu film once - it was quite good! And when my brother made a ROFL-rageous reference to Koyaanisqatsi over Christmas dinner last year, I was able to smile wryly in recognition. My most favouritest ‘difficult film’ is probably either Michael Haneke’s Hidden or David Lynch’s Eraserhead - fairly obvious choices. I almost went to see some of the Cremaster cycle once, but chickened out. Now you're just making stuff up. As the News Of The World’s Film Critic, I imagine you’ve seen well over a hundred films. Can you rustle up a Top 5? Last time I worked it out, it was (in no particular order) My Neighbour Totoro, The Good, The Bad And The Ugly, Cinema Paradiso, There Will Be Blood and Mulholland Drive. ECLECTIC. How does it feel to be (according to The Guardian) the 87th most influential individual in UK film, just 49 places below Keira Knightley? For my mum and dad, I think it legitimised a lot. Personally, I really don’t care about all that kind of stuff – although having said that, if I’m not still on the list next year I’m going to fix a length of hosepipe to the car exhaust and gas myself. You always turn up at screenings in a suit and tie. Do you do it to make yourself stand out? Because you don't need to, you're eight feet tall. At the News of the World we roll old school - it’s a bit like Mad Men in here! Except without the endemic casual sexism, of course. That’s Sky Sports. Every News of the World journalist wears a suit for the job, including me. It’s a constant source of noisy amusement for other people at screenings, and I’m glad about that, except one day I will snap. What have you seen that isn't out for ages that's going to blow us all away? Nine point nine bajillion times out of ten bajillion times that I see a film early, I have to sign an embargo that stops me saying anything about it until the Sunday before it comes out, even if I love the very bumcheeks off it. The most distant unembargoed releases I’ve seen are Submarine (brilliant), Wake Wood (also brilliant), Norwegian Wood (gorgeous and difficult) and Chalet Girl (much better than you’d think). Well I look forward to being blown by all of those. Now when are you going to come clean and admit that your love of The Ghost has been a Joaquin Phoenix-esque practical joke all along? Because it really is ponderous, preposterous claptrap, isn't it? Idiots such as yourself didn’t enjoy The Ghost because you didn’t bother looking beyond the contemporary political surface and the fact they’d cast a Mamma Mia! person as the Prime Minister. But the fundamental structure of that film stands it in a long tradition of paranoid Hollywood noir that stretches back through Polanski’s own Chinatown, right back to Hitchcock and probably earlier. It’s a brilliant example of its genre, the craft is nigh-on flawless and the casting – including the Brosnatron – is note-perfect. If anyone disagrees with that, I will physically fight them. And I will win. I'm not sure about that, your centre of gravity is much higher than everyone else's, meaning your propensity for toppling over is much greater. In other news, you’re the prince of poster quotes. Which of the following are you most proud of? "5 Stars? It deserves 127!" (127 Hours) "I love it when a film comes together" (The A-Team) “Comedy genius” (Hot Tub Time Machine) History will prove me right on the third. The second is inexcusably lazy and I probably should have been sacked over it. I love the first one most because 127 Hours and The King’s Speech came out in the same week, and – while I’m in no way hatin’ on the C-Firth – Danny Boyle’s film is clearly the better of the two, so I chose to make that my lead review and relegated The King’s Speech to the second lead slot. And if that means only one more person went to see 127 Hours instead of, or as well as, The King’s Speech as a result, then my job is done. How far in advance of actually seeing a film have you worked out your puns? My guess is that as soon as a film is announced you whip up a positive and a negative pun, then apply the appropriate one after viewing the film. Am I right? Tell me I’m right. You’re wrong, because that would require me to make twice as much effort for exactly the same comedic yield. People now freely suggest puns to me on Twitter, which is awful because it means even if I’ve already thought of them myself, I can’t then use them in a review. Someone suggested that if The Rite turns out to be rubbish, I should rename it 'The Rong'. That’s brilliant. You're a big fan of Japanese culture. Is that because you blend in so well over there, what with you being nine feet tall? I went on holiday to Japan last year and it was absolutely wonderful - if you’re my height you’re treated like a visiting alien dignitary. Strangers asked if I was a model. Locals made offerings of sweetmeats. An old woman actually applauded when I used the Japanese word for ‘plum’. It’s kind of how you wish you were treated all the time in your most private, demented fantasies. I might move there. What do you think you're doing in your Twitter avatar? Pointing at objective critical truth. And in this picture? Legitimate journalism. That's a relief. Now, many budding film reviewers look up to you, and not just because you're ten feet tall. What advice would you give to anyone who wants your job? Do the News of the World’s graduate training scheme, casually make it known around the office that you know a lot about movies, then poison my drinking water. That’s how I got it. That sounds an awful lot like a murder confession. Before I report you to the proper authorities, I must know: what's your favourite colour? After weeks of consulting colour charts under natural and artificial light sources, I’m about to paint the kitchen Pavilion Grey, so I’d probably say KILL ME NOW. If The Incredible Suit was a really really good film, what would your poster quote be? Warning: I will be using your answer in promotional material. “Incredible? It deserves 127!” – Robbie Collin, News of the World How tall are you exactly? I can’t tell you. I can’t tell you why I can’t tell you either, but it involves Satan. Robbie Collin, thank you very much I suppose.

*He's completely wrong about Paul.

I'm Still Going On About The BBC Archives

The sharp-witted among you will remember with warm, fuzzy nostalgia the post I did a while back about the amazing BBC Archive microsite and the treasure of Bondy booty within. Since then, and hopefully not as a direct result of my post, the BBC have announced a 25% cut in their online budget, which is about as welcome as the removal of a favourite genital. Whether or not this affects the BBC Archive I don't know because nobody replied to my query. Perhaps they've been sacked already.

Anyway in order to drum up a bit more business for them, I am hereby directing you to another of the movie-type collections on there, Hollywood Voices, an internet pie whose filling is made of the tastiest radio interviews with actors and directors from America's golden age of cinema. Chaplin, Hayworth, Huston, Stewart, Flynn, Cagney, Lemmon, Marx, Crawford, Welles, Karloff... all the greats are there. And John Wayne.

There are currently 71 clips in the collection and in all honesty I haven't listened to them all. But in the interests of knowing vaguely what I'm on about, I have listened to some. Here's what I thought, as if you care:

Talking Of Films: Buster Keaton (Network Three, 1961)

A 66-year-old Keaton treats interviewer Herbert Feinstein like a retarded child, which is exactly how you would hope Buster Keaton spoke to interviewers. He talks about how Houdini gave him the nickname "Buster", how his films were cheaper than Chaplin's and Harold Lloyd's and goes on to call Chaplin "very lazy" for making anything less than two films a year. He even finds time to have a pop at Bob Hope's physical comedy skillz, the old grouch. It's the first time I've heard Keaton's voice and he's as tetchy and irascible as his 1920s screen persona implies, thank Christ.

Alfred Hitchcock (1972)

The Greatest Director What Ever Lived talks to Anthony Friese-Greene about the use of music in his films. Broadcast as Hitchcock was in post-production on Frenzy, Friese-Greene spends a lot of time referring to an interview Hitch did in 1933 and asking him if he still feels the same way, which seems almost as lazy as writing a blog post about something you already wrote about a few weeks ago. Still, The Master talks acres of common sense about how music should or shouldn't be used in film, refuses to be put off by a phone ringing in the background and hints at a vague contempt for musicals because they can't be translated into other languages and therefore don't succeed in foreign markets. Has he never heard of dubbing? Or subtitles? Honestly, what an amateur.

Woman's Hour: Fay Wray (Radio 4, 1990)

Silken-voiced broadcasting goddess Jenni Murray interviews a then-83-year-old Fay Wray about her experiences on King Kong, and with various other, less hairy leading men. She reveals, with more lucidity than most 83-year-olds I know, how she intended for her screams to be heard a mile away, and what it was like to act in front of a rear projection screen so big she couldn't even tell what was on it. Wray goes on to describe with woozy, golden-tinged nostalgia what it was like to be caught up in the magic of 1930s Hollywood and how writers are sexier than actors because "they think more widely", whatever that means. I think it might be sexual.

And because I couldn't resist it, I went back to the James Bond collection to check out another of its ancient gems:

Tonight: James Bond Car (BBC1, 1964)

In the kind of piece Top Gear would do nowadays only with more exploding caravans and unbearable presenters, plummy Tonight reporter Kenneth Allsop presents an offbeat film as part of the massive Goldfinger promotion machine in which he trades his E-Type Jaguar for Bond's Aston Martin DB5. In the process he demonstrates the trick number plate that rotates with all the smoothness of a rusty mangle, a radar scanner built into the wing mirror that never featured in the film and, inexplicably, a fake finger he finds under the driver's seat. There's every chance it's the gold finger (DO YOU SEE?) that Honor Blackman wore at the premiere but as it's in black and white it just looks like Bond's left an uncomfortable-looking sex toy behind.

So do yourself a favour and visit the BBC Archives before some bureaucrat deletes it as part of a cost-cutting measure. Chances are you've already paid for it with part of your TV licence so you may as well enjoy it. At any rate it's better than anything on BBC Three.

Poster-Making Secrets Revealed

Here's a poster for forthcoming surefire hit Forget Me Not:

And here's how this remarkable image was achieved:

Brighton Rock

Not many people are saying this at the moment, but let me tell you something. Brighton Rock is a great film. Yes, really.

Opening with a nail-biting fifteen-minute sequence that ramps up the tension as second-rate gangster Pinkie Brown seeks revenge for the murder of his mentor - and gets it in an explosion of stylish cinematography and alarming editing - the film never quite settles, constantly keeping you in a state of fear about what Pinkie might do next.

And he could do anything, because he's a complete psychopath. Portrayed brilliantly by one of Britain's greatest actors, Pinkie is a monstrous creation. He doesn't drink, smoke or eat chocolate, emphasising his inability to take pleasure in anything, even love - although it's clear he's incapable of and disgusted by the very notion, as evinced by the slightest flaring of his nostrils or sneer of his mouth. Make no mistake, this is a performance that will be remembered for a long time.

The supporting cast can't hope to compare but acquit themselves admirably, aided by a tight script and intelligent direction. And as for the visuals, well, this could be Britain's most beautiful film noir. Every frame is a perfectly composed nightmare, with dark-dwelling horrors nestling up to brightly-lit beauty and innocence at every turn.

All in all, Brighton Rock is a work of art the British film industry should be proud of, and I urge everyone to see it as soon as possible.

Apparently there's a remake out soon but I don't know anything about that.