Fortunately, in ‘The Da Vinci Code’ cinema season, there are films like James’ Marsh debut, ‘The King’, that have the power of confronting the audience by raising questions with no easy or ready-made answers.
Get right with God. Be prepared to meet him.
William Hurt’s voice and presence is imposing, his authority unquestioned, his faith unshakeable. Or at least this is how it seems. But by now, my true cinephiles, you should now that almost never things are the way they seem to be on the surface. Deep down, people hide secrets. So, what’s new? you are going to ask. Why is ‘The King’ a special film and not just another revenge story?
Is it because it involves incest? Or because it deals with the limits of faith and forgiveness? Yes and no; Milo Addica, screenwriter of films like ‘Monster’s Ball’ and ‘Birth’ and James Marsh in his debut are not afraid to take the knife to the bone. The place is Texas and I suppose we all know that this is one of the most conservative states. The hero is Elvis, a half Mexican young man who ,after leaving the Navy, goes to find his father. Son of a prostitute, Elvis, is not accepted by his father, now a minister of a church with a well respected life and family. Elvis represents his sinful past from which he has long now been cleansed. His rejection of Elvis sets off an unbelievably cruel revenge plan.
You sense early in the film that something bad is going to happen. Around the middle of the film, an unexpected act of violence confirms your suspicions. But you go on feeling uneasy, tense. You know that something bigger, more horrible will follow and the more this is postponed, the more anxious you get. Thus, in the chilling finale you are partly relieved that at last the tension is released but mostly shocked by what Elvis does.
A lot of people see this story as a parable. It certainly works this way but for me it is even deeper. It is a comment to religious fanaticism, to hypocrisy, to lost innocence and the possibility of being regained. Elvis puts the biggest challenge in front of his father. Is there ever a possibility of true forgiveness after such a monstrous act of revenge?
Congratulations on the casting. William Hurt is an amazing actor and in this film he proves it once again. Laura Harring, for those remembering her fatal beauty in ‘Mulholland Drive’, is unrecognizable as the tragic figure of the mother.Paul Dano is surprisingly complex. But the big surprise comes from Pell James who is the face of innocence as the sixteen year old daughter, seduced by her half-brother. It is an acting seminar watching her.
The King is Gael Garcia Bernal. His Elvis is creepy but sympathetic at the same time. It is certainly a great script and a great part for an actor but nevertheless, Bernal has the quality, talent and instinct to support it. Watch this Mexican guy: From ‘’Y tu mama tambien’’ to ‘’Amores Perros’’, from ‘’Bad Education’’ to ‘’Motorcycle Diaries’’ and from ‘’The King’’ to ‘’Babel’’, he is an evolving talent and a volcano burning the big screen.
Τρίτη 30 Σεπτεμβρίου 2008
The Representative
The Representative is a play but it’s also a fact: Nazis, Jews, Clergy, the Pope. Find the weakest link. Deport it. Gas it. Horrendous? It really happened.
The play is part of the ‘Rediscoveries season’ at Finborough theatre. It is a season dedicated to the rediscovery of plays but the staging of Rolf Hochhuth’s The Representative is also a reminder of a historical fact that some can argue it can never be forgotten. The Holocaust was definitely one of the events that changed the face of humanity forever. After such an act of massive extermination, people knew that actually there are no limits to cruelty. Even if the plan was conceived inside a few distorted minds, it took the collaboration of many and the approval –open or silent- of much more to be executed. There is a massive guilt in our post-modern era caused by the innocent blood sacrificed. Of course, this is not the case for everyone. Most of us rarely think about it as we lead our ordinary, everyday lives, reading the latest news on the Middle East crisis and nodding sympathetically for the victims. But after sitting in the theatre and becoming engaged in the debates and the dilemmas the play brings forth, you feel shaken; the way a good play should shake you.
The basic theme of the play is the silence of Pope Pius XII about the extermination of the Jews all over Europe. There are two main characters; Gerstein, a Christian SS Officer sympathetic to the Jews who is trying to alert the Church, and a young Jesuit priest, Father Ricardo, who, facing the hypocrisy of the higher clergy, is gradually losing faith in the Church he represents. Around these two a bunch of different characters revolve, placed there either to defend the Pope (while at the same time they involuntarily expose the corruption of the Church by politics) or to remind us of the tragic fate awaiting the Jews. In between these two sets of characters, stands the most terrifying of all: the Doctor, the personification of evil in front of whom everyone is helpless.
The theatre is small, with a round stage where the audience sits literally next to the actors. This means that you feel like an observer and a participant at the same time. It is easy to be carried away by some really passionate performances and lose sense of time, especially after the second act where the drama is accelerated and culminates in a forceful and shocking finale. A three hour play full of talking and little action may seem a heavy load for a summer night but if you let yourself absorb the vibrations of the dialogue and the expressions of the actors, you will enjoy the experience. Kate Wasserberg’s direction is taking advantage of every available corner while her guidance to the actors was essential. Clever changes of setting, appropriate use of music, and atmospheric use of lighting along with excellent costumes contribute to the performances.
As by now most of you will have figured out, the dynamics of the play lay on the dialogues. Thus, it’s all about actors. Fortunately, this staging can boast an amazing cast of sixteen actors, who are ideally chosen. Some of them are doubling or tripling parts but their passing from one character to the other is so successful, to the point where one or two of them are hardly recognisable. Striking example is Matthew Bates whose main part is Jacobson, a Jew facing deporting, but he also appears as an Italian Militiaman and as a Writer in the Vatican. The way he changes his voice, his gaze, his posture from one part to the other is something to be seen, although in the end his heartbreaking Jacobson is what most of the audience will carry with them. David Kershaw is The Doctor. Now, the script is in his favour: he has some of the most memorable lines plus he is a character that brings brains as a gift because he couldn’t find flowers. The way David Kershaw portrays him makes him just terrifying. Although he hardly raises his voice, he is constantly smiling and he rarely appears physically threatening, you just have to look in his eyes to see the evil he represents. A gripping performance that brings the tension in the parts that seem a bit flat. Steve Sarossy is Gerstein, a character that on the first place gains your sympathy. Yes, he wears the SS uniform but it is just a cover for the Resistance. He tries to alert the Church. He helps a Jew. But, in the end of the play, he is still in the beginning, full of good intentions but failing to make a difference. Steve Sarossy’s performance manages to communicate this ambivalence and also the internal hell his character goes through. He is delightful in the last scene, where he smiles in Gerstein’s small triumph over The Doctor. Father Ricardo is played by Oliver Pengelly and as The Doctor calls him ‘he is a delightful apologist of the Christ’. His initially almost naïve character is transformed into a martyr figure, that will steal hearts. Leander Deeny is surprisingly convincing as a dedicated Sergeant of the SS, absolutely believable in the pleasure he derives from his power to punish. William McGeough and Denise McCormack as a Jewish couple bring the much wanted warmth and humanity in the sterilised environment of offices and concentration camps. Michael Lovatt tripling the parts of a priest, a Swiss guard and the Head of the German Police holds your attention in every one of his appearances onstage while Stephanie Thomas is responsible for unveiling one of the most tragic figures in the play. The older generation of actors contribute the experience that makes them look imposing on stage, figures that claim your attention. Simon Molloy’s Pope is full of dignity in his white silk, Jack Klaff’s Cardinal successfully balances the comic and the threatening element while as a deported Jew manages to elicit sympathy, Robert Gillespie has depth and passion, Peter Stenson as the Nuncio and a servant is charming and Edmund Dehn is heartbreaking as a father standing by his son and his double part of a grandfather striving to protect his family.
I am sure that in the end of the play you will be sitting uncomfortably because the food for thought that is offered is not easily digested. When Jacobson in the concentration camp says that the only thing that shocks him now is that the world let this happen, you may hear a little internal voice asking you: ‘would you let it happen?’
The play is part of the ‘Rediscoveries season’ at Finborough theatre. It is a season dedicated to the rediscovery of plays but the staging of Rolf Hochhuth’s The Representative is also a reminder of a historical fact that some can argue it can never be forgotten. The Holocaust was definitely one of the events that changed the face of humanity forever. After such an act of massive extermination, people knew that actually there are no limits to cruelty. Even if the plan was conceived inside a few distorted minds, it took the collaboration of many and the approval –open or silent- of much more to be executed. There is a massive guilt in our post-modern era caused by the innocent blood sacrificed. Of course, this is not the case for everyone. Most of us rarely think about it as we lead our ordinary, everyday lives, reading the latest news on the Middle East crisis and nodding sympathetically for the victims. But after sitting in the theatre and becoming engaged in the debates and the dilemmas the play brings forth, you feel shaken; the way a good play should shake you.
The basic theme of the play is the silence of Pope Pius XII about the extermination of the Jews all over Europe. There are two main characters; Gerstein, a Christian SS Officer sympathetic to the Jews who is trying to alert the Church, and a young Jesuit priest, Father Ricardo, who, facing the hypocrisy of the higher clergy, is gradually losing faith in the Church he represents. Around these two a bunch of different characters revolve, placed there either to defend the Pope (while at the same time they involuntarily expose the corruption of the Church by politics) or to remind us of the tragic fate awaiting the Jews. In between these two sets of characters, stands the most terrifying of all: the Doctor, the personification of evil in front of whom everyone is helpless.
The theatre is small, with a round stage where the audience sits literally next to the actors. This means that you feel like an observer and a participant at the same time. It is easy to be carried away by some really passionate performances and lose sense of time, especially after the second act where the drama is accelerated and culminates in a forceful and shocking finale. A three hour play full of talking and little action may seem a heavy load for a summer night but if you let yourself absorb the vibrations of the dialogue and the expressions of the actors, you will enjoy the experience. Kate Wasserberg’s direction is taking advantage of every available corner while her guidance to the actors was essential. Clever changes of setting, appropriate use of music, and atmospheric use of lighting along with excellent costumes contribute to the performances.
As by now most of you will have figured out, the dynamics of the play lay on the dialogues. Thus, it’s all about actors. Fortunately, this staging can boast an amazing cast of sixteen actors, who are ideally chosen. Some of them are doubling or tripling parts but their passing from one character to the other is so successful, to the point where one or two of them are hardly recognisable. Striking example is Matthew Bates whose main part is Jacobson, a Jew facing deporting, but he also appears as an Italian Militiaman and as a Writer in the Vatican. The way he changes his voice, his gaze, his posture from one part to the other is something to be seen, although in the end his heartbreaking Jacobson is what most of the audience will carry with them. David Kershaw is The Doctor. Now, the script is in his favour: he has some of the most memorable lines plus he is a character that brings brains as a gift because he couldn’t find flowers. The way David Kershaw portrays him makes him just terrifying. Although he hardly raises his voice, he is constantly smiling and he rarely appears physically threatening, you just have to look in his eyes to see the evil he represents. A gripping performance that brings the tension in the parts that seem a bit flat. Steve Sarossy is Gerstein, a character that on the first place gains your sympathy. Yes, he wears the SS uniform but it is just a cover for the Resistance. He tries to alert the Church. He helps a Jew. But, in the end of the play, he is still in the beginning, full of good intentions but failing to make a difference. Steve Sarossy’s performance manages to communicate this ambivalence and also the internal hell his character goes through. He is delightful in the last scene, where he smiles in Gerstein’s small triumph over The Doctor. Father Ricardo is played by Oliver Pengelly and as The Doctor calls him ‘he is a delightful apologist of the Christ’. His initially almost naïve character is transformed into a martyr figure, that will steal hearts. Leander Deeny is surprisingly convincing as a dedicated Sergeant of the SS, absolutely believable in the pleasure he derives from his power to punish. William McGeough and Denise McCormack as a Jewish couple bring the much wanted warmth and humanity in the sterilised environment of offices and concentration camps. Michael Lovatt tripling the parts of a priest, a Swiss guard and the Head of the German Police holds your attention in every one of his appearances onstage while Stephanie Thomas is responsible for unveiling one of the most tragic figures in the play. The older generation of actors contribute the experience that makes them look imposing on stage, figures that claim your attention. Simon Molloy’s Pope is full of dignity in his white silk, Jack Klaff’s Cardinal successfully balances the comic and the threatening element while as a deported Jew manages to elicit sympathy, Robert Gillespie has depth and passion, Peter Stenson as the Nuncio and a servant is charming and Edmund Dehn is heartbreaking as a father standing by his son and his double part of a grandfather striving to protect his family.
I am sure that in the end of the play you will be sitting uncomfortably because the food for thought that is offered is not easily digested. When Jacobson in the concentration camp says that the only thing that shocks him now is that the world let this happen, you may hear a little internal voice asking you: ‘would you let it happen?’
Life on Goldsmiths Earth
I was late for college that day
a man was shot outside Iceland...
Welcome to Matt’s Winkworth wonderland, right on your door!!!
Matt claims that it’s just like the movies and the truth is that listening to his cd is as if someone had composed the soundtrack for a movie based on your life. Now, how often can you say something like that for a debut album?
I am not a music critic more than I am a critic of anything. But I like music and I honestly admire talented people, especially those with talent in music -writing songs, playing instruments- simply because I have not. Moreover, in this era where cheap pop or pseudo-rock with repetitive lyrics and melodies is the passport to success and recognition, those who have something original to present and do not follow the trend deserve praise.
I first saw Matt in Goldsmith’s Musical Society production of Hedwig and the Angry Inch; he was the musical director and he played the keyboards. Then, a friend of mine had one of his songs, ‘Just Like the Movies’, playing in her myspace account. It was love at first hearing. It was fresh, sweet and original. After almost three months he had a launch party for his first cd. I decided to go because I wanted to hear him play live and also to listen to the other songs. I was almost sure that I would buy the cd in the end of the night (support Goldsmiths graduates!!!) but I would feel much better if I made sure that the rest of the cd would be as good as ‘Just like the Movies’ promised to be.
Well, it was a great live. Both the live performance and the cd have mainly an acoustic atmosphere with the piano being the king of the instruments but in the cd it is accompanied by trumpets, drums and quitars. The songs are surprising; they combine a variety of styles but there is a sonic coherence that is captivating; when you start listening to the first song, you have to listen till the very last. And every time I listen to the ‘Infatuated’, at the part where Matt declares ‘no, I am not in love’, I have to stamp my feet the way I stamped it at his live due to ‘lack of a drummer’!!
Since all criticism is subjective, I will mention my very favourites and then, because I believe that the songs can speak for themselves, I will write some of the lyrics in an attempt to show how true these songs are.
Personal favourites then, ‘Second-Hand Smoke’, ‘The finer points of being happy’ and ‘Pucksong’
followed by the lines from ‘Life on Earth’ that prove how close to real life Matt is:
And so we live by the artefacts we collect
by the memories we select
by the fantasies we forget we fantasize
Strange, all this time we have to change
though we rarely re-arrange
our life on earth
I am pretty sure that there are a lot of musicians like Matt, studying in colleges and recording their cds with the help of friends, classmates and fellow musicians, covering the expenses themselves, and searching for gigs to play. They have things to say that the already rich and famous guys have long forgotten. So, next time you feel like buying a cd, a trip to independent productions may reveal the music treasures you were looking for.
a man was shot outside Iceland...
Welcome to Matt’s Winkworth wonderland, right on your door!!!
Matt claims that it’s just like the movies and the truth is that listening to his cd is as if someone had composed the soundtrack for a movie based on your life. Now, how often can you say something like that for a debut album?
I am not a music critic more than I am a critic of anything. But I like music and I honestly admire talented people, especially those with talent in music -writing songs, playing instruments- simply because I have not. Moreover, in this era where cheap pop or pseudo-rock with repetitive lyrics and melodies is the passport to success and recognition, those who have something original to present and do not follow the trend deserve praise.
I first saw Matt in Goldsmith’s Musical Society production of Hedwig and the Angry Inch; he was the musical director and he played the keyboards. Then, a friend of mine had one of his songs, ‘Just Like the Movies’, playing in her myspace account. It was love at first hearing. It was fresh, sweet and original. After almost three months he had a launch party for his first cd. I decided to go because I wanted to hear him play live and also to listen to the other songs. I was almost sure that I would buy the cd in the end of the night (support Goldsmiths graduates!!!) but I would feel much better if I made sure that the rest of the cd would be as good as ‘Just like the Movies’ promised to be.
Well, it was a great live. Both the live performance and the cd have mainly an acoustic atmosphere with the piano being the king of the instruments but in the cd it is accompanied by trumpets, drums and quitars. The songs are surprising; they combine a variety of styles but there is a sonic coherence that is captivating; when you start listening to the first song, you have to listen till the very last. And every time I listen to the ‘Infatuated’, at the part where Matt declares ‘no, I am not in love’, I have to stamp my feet the way I stamped it at his live due to ‘lack of a drummer’!!
Since all criticism is subjective, I will mention my very favourites and then, because I believe that the songs can speak for themselves, I will write some of the lyrics in an attempt to show how true these songs are.
Personal favourites then, ‘Second-Hand Smoke’, ‘The finer points of being happy’ and ‘Pucksong’
followed by the lines from ‘Life on Earth’ that prove how close to real life Matt is:
And so we live by the artefacts we collect
by the memories we select
by the fantasies we forget we fantasize
Strange, all this time we have to change
though we rarely re-arrange
our life on earth
I am pretty sure that there are a lot of musicians like Matt, studying in colleges and recording their cds with the help of friends, classmates and fellow musicians, covering the expenses themselves, and searching for gigs to play. They have things to say that the already rich and famous guys have long forgotten. So, next time you feel like buying a cd, a trip to independent productions may reveal the music treasures you were looking for.
Backstage
The un-official guide to aspiring ASMs (don’t worry if you don’t know what ASM is-it’s all part of the training)
So, you always wanted to work in a theatre but you have never done it before and on top of that your studies are in International Politics. Don’t despair. There is a backstage door that will lead you to the magic theatre-land. Are you ready?
First of all, bear in mind that you have to start low. Don’t expect to walk into the National or the RSC and tell the people ‘I always thought that it would be great if someone would stage Macbeth using giant puppets’ and expect that they will bow in front of the grandeur of your vision and give you the job. As my friend Nicole (who actually is a theatre person) says: ‘If the National takes the time to throw my application into the Thames, I will be honoured.’
Then, try to make yourself useful. Volunteer to go for prop shopping-the director/producer/designer will love you. Of course, that means that you have to spend lots of mornings in malls, looking for all sorts of weird things that you actually don’t know how to describe to the sales persons. So, you’ll find yourself asking for fake brains, baby dolls to look 6 months old, metal first aid boxes that do not exist anymore and other stuff like the above. This is not the tricky part though. To be considered successful you must keep the budget to the minimum, so before actually buying anything, it is highly advisable to have done good research.
Sewing and mending will give you a great advantage. There is nothing more useful backstage than a person who can sew a button, mend a hole in a costume and know how to clean fake blood stains. You will be the hero of the show and slowly your services will become essential and you irreplaceable.
Keep always your patience, be polite, smile and act as a calming force in the craze of the dressing rooms. Volunteer to help actors with costumes or quick changes but do not get in their feet, especially when they are getting into character.
Keep things in order, develop a routine and save time. Nothing could be more reassuring than a person backstage who seems to make everyone else’s job a bit easier. Usually people appreciate this and will want to work with you again.
Hang out with the cast and the producers. Keep in touch and don’t be ashamed to ask them to recommend you to other theatre people. Theatre is one of the jobs that need connections, so the sooner you make them, the better for your career.
Remember that in the beginning you’ll probably need to volunteer a lot, so don’t expect to make money. Although it is good for other people to know that your time is valuable and your services worthwhile, it takes time to move from ‘services’ to a friend to professional services. But as we mentioned before, patience is a virtue.
So, if you still think that this is what you want to do, go for it. Theatre needs you.
ASM=Assistant Stage Manager will probably be your first official post.
So, you always wanted to work in a theatre but you have never done it before and on top of that your studies are in International Politics. Don’t despair. There is a backstage door that will lead you to the magic theatre-land. Are you ready?
First of all, bear in mind that you have to start low. Don’t expect to walk into the National or the RSC and tell the people ‘I always thought that it would be great if someone would stage Macbeth using giant puppets’ and expect that they will bow in front of the grandeur of your vision and give you the job. As my friend Nicole (who actually is a theatre person) says: ‘If the National takes the time to throw my application into the Thames, I will be honoured.’
Then, try to make yourself useful. Volunteer to go for prop shopping-the director/producer/designer will love you. Of course, that means that you have to spend lots of mornings in malls, looking for all sorts of weird things that you actually don’t know how to describe to the sales persons. So, you’ll find yourself asking for fake brains, baby dolls to look 6 months old, metal first aid boxes that do not exist anymore and other stuff like the above. This is not the tricky part though. To be considered successful you must keep the budget to the minimum, so before actually buying anything, it is highly advisable to have done good research.
Sewing and mending will give you a great advantage. There is nothing more useful backstage than a person who can sew a button, mend a hole in a costume and know how to clean fake blood stains. You will be the hero of the show and slowly your services will become essential and you irreplaceable.
Keep always your patience, be polite, smile and act as a calming force in the craze of the dressing rooms. Volunteer to help actors with costumes or quick changes but do not get in their feet, especially when they are getting into character.
Keep things in order, develop a routine and save time. Nothing could be more reassuring than a person backstage who seems to make everyone else’s job a bit easier. Usually people appreciate this and will want to work with you again.
Hang out with the cast and the producers. Keep in touch and don’t be ashamed to ask them to recommend you to other theatre people. Theatre is one of the jobs that need connections, so the sooner you make them, the better for your career.
Remember that in the beginning you’ll probably need to volunteer a lot, so don’t expect to make money. Although it is good for other people to know that your time is valuable and your services worthwhile, it takes time to move from ‘services’ to a friend to professional services. But as we mentioned before, patience is a virtue.
So, if you still think that this is what you want to do, go for it. Theatre needs you.
ASM=Assistant Stage Manager will probably be your first official post.
(nostalgia) at Tate Modern
Nostalgia is one of my favourite words. It’s of Greek origin: nostos+algos. nostos=the travel of returning home, algos=pain. Beautiful word; proper title to a strangely beautiful film.
I always try to discover some of the many exciting things happening in London. A few days ago, I received an email concerning the screening of a Holis Frampton film, rare to be found, at Tate Modern. One of my professors, Rachel Moore, would present a talk after the screening. To support Goldsmiths and to redeem myself for handing in my paper in plastic cover (which Rachel hates), I decided to go. It proved a good decision.
I am at the Starr Auditorium at Tate Modern, waiting not for Godot but for Holis Frampton’s (nostalgia), which is supposed to be a kind of landmark in film history. Rachel will give a talk after the screening. I walked here from Charing X, not a small walk you might say, but a lovely one indeed. I love being part of the city, coming to cool places like the Tate and walking by the Thames. I know I will miss this city when I am back in Athens. But what you gonna do? This is how things are, you make choices. A walk by Thames or a walk in the beach? Southbank or Thisseio? London or Athens? Anyway, the film is about to begin, I guess. People keep arriving, it seems it will be full. I’ve spotted two guys from my Cinema class and right now a late-thirties/early-forties couple just entered, holding their five year old asleep daughter in their arms. Oh, these Art lovers...
The above was what I wrote in my notebook as I was waiting for the film to begin. I copied it here because I find it very relevant with the essence of Frampton’s film. (nostalgia) is about Holis Frampton’s transformation from photographer to filmmaker. This transformation is represented in the film by the process of photographs transformed to ashes. They are a selection of Frampton’s photographs, each one accompanied by a story. A voice over tells us the story of each picture while it is burned in front of our eyes but soon we discover that the story we hear refers to the following photograph. Furthermore, although it is a first person narration (I took this picture in...), it is not Frampton’s voice but that of Mark Snow.
Through these small ‘deceits’, Frampton comments on the nature of cinema. The power of fire to destroy and to redeem; the necessity of leaving something behind when you move on. To be free one must give a little part of himself. Here comes my connection to the film. Sitting still for 36 minutes, mesmerized, watching pictures turned into ashes, and later drinking wine from proper wine glasses (Hear, hear English Department) at the small reception following the talk I couldn’t help thinking about my own nostalgia, for things left behind, some of them to be found again, others lost forever. Frampton put the title into brackets and actually was considering of having no title at all, so as not to preconceive the audience. Well, as far as I am concerned, I believe that this was an excellent choice of a title. Beautiful, simple, to the point.
I always try to discover some of the many exciting things happening in London. A few days ago, I received an email concerning the screening of a Holis Frampton film, rare to be found, at Tate Modern. One of my professors, Rachel Moore, would present a talk after the screening. To support Goldsmiths and to redeem myself for handing in my paper in plastic cover (which Rachel hates), I decided to go. It proved a good decision.
I am at the Starr Auditorium at Tate Modern, waiting not for Godot but for Holis Frampton’s (nostalgia), which is supposed to be a kind of landmark in film history. Rachel will give a talk after the screening. I walked here from Charing X, not a small walk you might say, but a lovely one indeed. I love being part of the city, coming to cool places like the Tate and walking by the Thames. I know I will miss this city when I am back in Athens. But what you gonna do? This is how things are, you make choices. A walk by Thames or a walk in the beach? Southbank or Thisseio? London or Athens? Anyway, the film is about to begin, I guess. People keep arriving, it seems it will be full. I’ve spotted two guys from my Cinema class and right now a late-thirties/early-forties couple just entered, holding their five year old asleep daughter in their arms. Oh, these Art lovers...
The above was what I wrote in my notebook as I was waiting for the film to begin. I copied it here because I find it very relevant with the essence of Frampton’s film. (nostalgia) is about Holis Frampton’s transformation from photographer to filmmaker. This transformation is represented in the film by the process of photographs transformed to ashes. They are a selection of Frampton’s photographs, each one accompanied by a story. A voice over tells us the story of each picture while it is burned in front of our eyes but soon we discover that the story we hear refers to the following photograph. Furthermore, although it is a first person narration (I took this picture in...), it is not Frampton’s voice but that of Mark Snow.
Through these small ‘deceits’, Frampton comments on the nature of cinema. The power of fire to destroy and to redeem; the necessity of leaving something behind when you move on. To be free one must give a little part of himself. Here comes my connection to the film. Sitting still for 36 minutes, mesmerized, watching pictures turned into ashes, and later drinking wine from proper wine glasses (Hear, hear English Department) at the small reception following the talk I couldn’t help thinking about my own nostalgia, for things left behind, some of them to be found again, others lost forever. Frampton put the title into brackets and actually was considering of having no title at all, so as not to preconceive the audience. Well, as far as I am concerned, I believe that this was an excellent choice of a title. Beautiful, simple, to the point.
Keep me Posted
This is a ‘blog versus diary’ debate. Well, not really a debate but rather an attempt to understand how did people make the transition from the absolute private to the absolute public.
Expression Engines
It is not just blog. It is also MSN and my space. It is the long hours sitting in front of a PC (or a MAC) and talking to friends, old and new, living next to you or at the end of the world. When it comes to communication, I find nothing wrong. I actually believe that we do not talk much; or to be accurate, we may talk but we do not listen. It is the quality and not the quantity of the discussions that we have even with our closest friends that lacks something. So if we can find an expression engine that will free us and will enhance our communication, great!! What we may need for that is to feel free to express our inner thoughts, to skip the second thoughts that make us pretend and to be honest, firstly to ourselves and then to the others.
Dear Diary
For many people, their diary was always the ‘place’ where all their thoughts were safely expressed, hidden from the eyes of the world. Diaries existed before Anna Frank and Bridget Jones, less glamorous or celebrated than these famous ones, but always a shelter for all the things that someone could not say in public. It is true that diary is more of a ‘girl’s’ thing rather a boy’s. It is also true that some people write in their diaries the events of their day and that can be very boring indeed. (Actually that is the reason why I could never keep a diary no matter how hard I tried in my childhood and adolescent years) But if your diary is not just an agenda but helps you analyze your feelings towards situations, then it is a friend-but hopefully not your only friend. Furthermore, there is always this mixture of feelings when you go back to previous diaries and see yourself growing in them, laughing with events and situations that seemed horrible when you were writing about them. It is not always pleasant to go back to the person you were before becoming the person you are now but at least it is just you spotting those differences. Think about it: What gives a diary its special position it occupies is its secrecy. It is a private, personal ‘temple’ that no one has access except for its owner. So when I hear people saying that blog is the diary of the 21st century, I can’t help thinking that this is not really the case.
Welcome to Blogland
I have a friend whose blog I read regularly, almost everyday. And the funny thing is that she is one of my flatmates. So actually, apart from being friends, we live together. And we study at the same college, although we are in different departments. What I am trying to say is that if there is one person that knows what is going on in her life, this is me. I don’t really need to read at her blog her almost daily ‘adventures’ because even when I am not part of them,I learn them from her while drinking tea and eating cookies. So why do I read her blog? Good question. Well, I guess I enjoy the way she writes; I like to read it as if I am reading a novel or something. Because when you see your life on paper (or in this case at a computer screen), this life is fictionalised. I can totally understand the reasons that someone would have a blog. So that friends or family who are away can keep up with your life. Or so that you can make new friends with whom you can share the same interests or experience. But how much can you actually write in a blog? I guess this depends on the type of person you are but I doubt that most of us would write what we would write in a diary or confess to our closer friends. Can you write that you are still in love with your ex when you pretend to him and to everyone else that you don’t care anymore? Can you write about the way you felt so alone that night in the pub despite the fact that all your friends were there? Can you write that sometimes you wish some terrible things for people that you actually love and although you soon regret it, you know you wished that at some point? Or that you hate your boss? When everybody will have access to your writing? Maybe some people could and will. But most, I believe they won’t.
In a life that becomes less and less private every day, where our actions are monitored by CCTV and we are encouraged to keep nothing for ourselves, I believe that a diary will always be an escape for all the things that refuse to go public.
Expression Engines
It is not just blog. It is also MSN and my space. It is the long hours sitting in front of a PC (or a MAC) and talking to friends, old and new, living next to you or at the end of the world. When it comes to communication, I find nothing wrong. I actually believe that we do not talk much; or to be accurate, we may talk but we do not listen. It is the quality and not the quantity of the discussions that we have even with our closest friends that lacks something. So if we can find an expression engine that will free us and will enhance our communication, great!! What we may need for that is to feel free to express our inner thoughts, to skip the second thoughts that make us pretend and to be honest, firstly to ourselves and then to the others.
Dear Diary
For many people, their diary was always the ‘place’ where all their thoughts were safely expressed, hidden from the eyes of the world. Diaries existed before Anna Frank and Bridget Jones, less glamorous or celebrated than these famous ones, but always a shelter for all the things that someone could not say in public. It is true that diary is more of a ‘girl’s’ thing rather a boy’s. It is also true that some people write in their diaries the events of their day and that can be very boring indeed. (Actually that is the reason why I could never keep a diary no matter how hard I tried in my childhood and adolescent years) But if your diary is not just an agenda but helps you analyze your feelings towards situations, then it is a friend-but hopefully not your only friend. Furthermore, there is always this mixture of feelings when you go back to previous diaries and see yourself growing in them, laughing with events and situations that seemed horrible when you were writing about them. It is not always pleasant to go back to the person you were before becoming the person you are now but at least it is just you spotting those differences. Think about it: What gives a diary its special position it occupies is its secrecy. It is a private, personal ‘temple’ that no one has access except for its owner. So when I hear people saying that blog is the diary of the 21st century, I can’t help thinking that this is not really the case.
Welcome to Blogland
I have a friend whose blog I read regularly, almost everyday. And the funny thing is that she is one of my flatmates. So actually, apart from being friends, we live together. And we study at the same college, although we are in different departments. What I am trying to say is that if there is one person that knows what is going on in her life, this is me. I don’t really need to read at her blog her almost daily ‘adventures’ because even when I am not part of them,I learn them from her while drinking tea and eating cookies. So why do I read her blog? Good question. Well, I guess I enjoy the way she writes; I like to read it as if I am reading a novel or something. Because when you see your life on paper (or in this case at a computer screen), this life is fictionalised. I can totally understand the reasons that someone would have a blog. So that friends or family who are away can keep up with your life. Or so that you can make new friends with whom you can share the same interests or experience. But how much can you actually write in a blog? I guess this depends on the type of person you are but I doubt that most of us would write what we would write in a diary or confess to our closer friends. Can you write that you are still in love with your ex when you pretend to him and to everyone else that you don’t care anymore? Can you write about the way you felt so alone that night in the pub despite the fact that all your friends were there? Can you write that sometimes you wish some terrible things for people that you actually love and although you soon regret it, you know you wished that at some point? Or that you hate your boss? When everybody will have access to your writing? Maybe some people could and will. But most, I believe they won’t.
In a life that becomes less and less private every day, where our actions are monitored by CCTV and we are encouraged to keep nothing for ourselves, I believe that a diary will always be an escape for all the things that refuse to go public.
Filmic Great Expectations
For all those who do not feel excited when they see their favourite book adapted into a film, here comes a short article that tries to spot the reasons for this attitude.
Recently I was reading an article in The Times by Iain Finlayson that examined the way that films can influence our reading of books. He suggests that there are “readers” and there are “viewers”. Viewers will read the book only after having seen the film and so they will adopt the director’s “look” upon it. I totally agree with Finlayson’s view but I can’t help thinking how books influence the way we watch films.
When you are a bookworm and at the same time a movie buff people easily assume that every time a film based on a book comes out, you will rush to the nearest cinema, sit comfortably and spend two hours in a state of bliss for seeing your favorite paper characters in flesh and blood. But that’s not the whole picture.
I believe that we, readers, are most of the times confined to our personal perspective and interpretation of a book and this often prevents us from appreciating its filmic adaptation. We judge the film according to our literary –great (?) – expectations and I think that you will agree with me if I say that these expectations are rarely outranked. And, my dear readers, this is not the director’s fault –or at least, not always-.
It is generally acclaimed that every reading of a book is a rewriting. To put it simply, although all of us may read the same book, we will perceive different meanings from it. Our upbringing, our experiences, our taste and aesthetic shape our interpretation of the text. And, since what you actually see when reading a book is a number of words, your imagination is free to run wild and create a whole new world, a literary reality, as a setting. You can place your characters in your neighborhood or somewhere you’ve never been before and it doesn’t matter because they are where you want them to be. It is this sense of control that we enjoy as readers and it is this control that we are deprived of as viewers. Now it is the director who decides where the characters move, what they wear, what they say and how they look. Most of the times, this can be really frustrating.
Book adaptations are very popular in cinema because they offer a good narrative (a truly original script seldom appears nowadays) and a big potential audience. Of course, the director and the producer need to bear in mind some factors that may determine their film’s reception by this potential audience and therefore its career in the box office. The majority of the readers want to see what they have read and not the director’s interpretation of the book. That is why, when Alfonso Kuarón’s Great Expectations came out, the audience seemed at least perplexed. Most of them expected to see a Victorian setting and were confronted with a modern one making the change too severe for the readers. The casting of the film helped the movie but most of Dickens classic fans found it a failure. Usually, a faithful representation of the book works with the audience unless it’s too academic. James’ Ivory adaptations of books like The Remains of a Day and Room with a View are examples of successful adaptations both for critics and the audience.
Turning a book into a film can be a very demanding and energy-consuming job. Books have so many details; interior monologues, pages of dialogues without action, overwhelming descriptions of places, persons and feelings. But as Michael Cunningham, author of The Hours, puts it:”You can have 10 pages describing the feelings and the frustration of your heroine and these cannot possibly be rendered to a film, but in a movie you have Nicole Kidman looking at a kid as if she’s at the hell’s bottom, Meryl Streep breaking an egg with hollow violence and Julianne Moore crying at the bathroom while talking happily to her husband. And this in a way counterparts numerous pages of narration.” Personally, I consider Stephen Daldry’s film The Hours as an ideal example of how a film can respect the spirit of a book (in this case the spirit of two books since Virginia’s Woolf Mrs. Dalloway haunts The Hours, both the film and the book).
Certainly, a lot of people may disagree with my examples of successful or unsuccessful adaptations but, as I mentioned above, this is natural since my view of a book and a film differs significantly from another’s. We are different people after all. Hence, my admiration for the sympathetic attitude of Anthony Minghella towards Patricia Highsmith’s amoral Mr. Ripley in his Talented Mr. Ripley may not be shared by many of you. Some probably prefer Alain Delon as Mr. Ripley, in Rene Clement Purple Moon (Plein Soleil) but I find Matt Damon ideal, exactly because he is the way I had portrayed Mr. Ripley when I first read the book. Or what can I say for Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings? Only the fact that he managed to film Tolkin’s epic would be enough but I truly believe that he did it in a wonderful way, satisfying most of Tolkin’s fans without sacrificing his personal style.
Nowadays, every best selling book’s fate is to be immediately adapted for the cinema (e. g Code Da Vinci) and therefore, most of us sooner or later will be confronted with what the filmmaker had read. I suggest that we leave our prejudices aside and try to appreciate the film and if possible, judge it not by whether it was a good adaptation but by whether it was a good film. It is really difficult and sometimes several viewings are required before we can achieve this level of objectivity. The more favorite the book, the bigger the chances of hating the film. Maybe we are simply jealous of the director because he/she did professionally what we do as amateurs in our mind. Maybe it is a fact that readers can never be just viewers. But I think it would be a good idea next time not allow to the ‘’reader’’ part of ourselves blur the vision of the viewer that all he asks is to enjoy a well-made film.
Recently I was reading an article in The Times by Iain Finlayson that examined the way that films can influence our reading of books. He suggests that there are “readers” and there are “viewers”. Viewers will read the book only after having seen the film and so they will adopt the director’s “look” upon it. I totally agree with Finlayson’s view but I can’t help thinking how books influence the way we watch films.
When you are a bookworm and at the same time a movie buff people easily assume that every time a film based on a book comes out, you will rush to the nearest cinema, sit comfortably and spend two hours in a state of bliss for seeing your favorite paper characters in flesh and blood. But that’s not the whole picture.
I believe that we, readers, are most of the times confined to our personal perspective and interpretation of a book and this often prevents us from appreciating its filmic adaptation. We judge the film according to our literary –great (?) – expectations and I think that you will agree with me if I say that these expectations are rarely outranked. And, my dear readers, this is not the director’s fault –or at least, not always-.
It is generally acclaimed that every reading of a book is a rewriting. To put it simply, although all of us may read the same book, we will perceive different meanings from it. Our upbringing, our experiences, our taste and aesthetic shape our interpretation of the text. And, since what you actually see when reading a book is a number of words, your imagination is free to run wild and create a whole new world, a literary reality, as a setting. You can place your characters in your neighborhood or somewhere you’ve never been before and it doesn’t matter because they are where you want them to be. It is this sense of control that we enjoy as readers and it is this control that we are deprived of as viewers. Now it is the director who decides where the characters move, what they wear, what they say and how they look. Most of the times, this can be really frustrating.
Book adaptations are very popular in cinema because they offer a good narrative (a truly original script seldom appears nowadays) and a big potential audience. Of course, the director and the producer need to bear in mind some factors that may determine their film’s reception by this potential audience and therefore its career in the box office. The majority of the readers want to see what they have read and not the director’s interpretation of the book. That is why, when Alfonso Kuarón’s Great Expectations came out, the audience seemed at least perplexed. Most of them expected to see a Victorian setting and were confronted with a modern one making the change too severe for the readers. The casting of the film helped the movie but most of Dickens classic fans found it a failure. Usually, a faithful representation of the book works with the audience unless it’s too academic. James’ Ivory adaptations of books like The Remains of a Day and Room with a View are examples of successful adaptations both for critics and the audience.
Turning a book into a film can be a very demanding and energy-consuming job. Books have so many details; interior monologues, pages of dialogues without action, overwhelming descriptions of places, persons and feelings. But as Michael Cunningham, author of The Hours, puts it:”You can have 10 pages describing the feelings and the frustration of your heroine and these cannot possibly be rendered to a film, but in a movie you have Nicole Kidman looking at a kid as if she’s at the hell’s bottom, Meryl Streep breaking an egg with hollow violence and Julianne Moore crying at the bathroom while talking happily to her husband. And this in a way counterparts numerous pages of narration.” Personally, I consider Stephen Daldry’s film The Hours as an ideal example of how a film can respect the spirit of a book (in this case the spirit of two books since Virginia’s Woolf Mrs. Dalloway haunts The Hours, both the film and the book).
Certainly, a lot of people may disagree with my examples of successful or unsuccessful adaptations but, as I mentioned above, this is natural since my view of a book and a film differs significantly from another’s. We are different people after all. Hence, my admiration for the sympathetic attitude of Anthony Minghella towards Patricia Highsmith’s amoral Mr. Ripley in his Talented Mr. Ripley may not be shared by many of you. Some probably prefer Alain Delon as Mr. Ripley, in Rene Clement Purple Moon (Plein Soleil) but I find Matt Damon ideal, exactly because he is the way I had portrayed Mr. Ripley when I first read the book. Or what can I say for Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings? Only the fact that he managed to film Tolkin’s epic would be enough but I truly believe that he did it in a wonderful way, satisfying most of Tolkin’s fans without sacrificing his personal style.
Nowadays, every best selling book’s fate is to be immediately adapted for the cinema (e. g Code Da Vinci) and therefore, most of us sooner or later will be confronted with what the filmmaker had read. I suggest that we leave our prejudices aside and try to appreciate the film and if possible, judge it not by whether it was a good adaptation but by whether it was a good film. It is really difficult and sometimes several viewings are required before we can achieve this level of objectivity. The more favorite the book, the bigger the chances of hating the film. Maybe we are simply jealous of the director because he/she did professionally what we do as amateurs in our mind. Maybe it is a fact that readers can never be just viewers. But I think it would be a good idea next time not allow to the ‘’reader’’ part of ourselves blur the vision of the viewer that all he asks is to enjoy a well-made film.
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