Trek Musings

CONTAIN SPOILERS TO STAR TREK AND STAR TREK: INTO DARKNESS! 

As part of my decision to relive my youth better, I started to fill some major gaps in my cultural education. One of the worst deficiencies I have is in Science Fiction, the definition of which becomes blurrier and blurrier each time I check. For all intents and purposes when I discuss sci fi I mean things, books, films, TV etc. that refer to the future and to space stuff, not the destruction of rings or the love of vampires, these I was very well versed in from an early age and mostly with better quality material, but I digress.

The point I was trying to make is that for some reason sci fi has passed me by and didn't stay during my childhood. Later on, after becoming a fully fledged Doctor Who fan and slightly more sci fi savvy, I couldn’t understand my ignorance of a genre I now consume avidly and with immense enthusiasm. Although, I think that as a grown up my understanding of the genre is better and therefore, my appreciation greater and my love of it deeper.

Consequently, it should come as no great surprise that though Star Trek was around during my childhood and I often saw it on TV, I never really watched it. Apart from being slow to the sci fi world, I was always uncomfortable in or around uniforms. Even the colourful and bright Star Trek were still making all people look the same, as if they belonged to something. As someone who was always an outsider and an outcast I could never relate to that.

What bothered me as a kid with Star Trek and manifested itself in my aversion to uniforms is still there: the militaristic tone set by the choice to call space a frontier and a final one, Star Fleet, the future of peace and harmony forced by the Federation, who makes an enemy of those who oppose it, and the conquest of planets disguised as a peaceful, non interfering missions, non interfering as long as everyone comply with the “correct” behaviour of the Federation, enforced by Star Fleet, all have a dodgy whiff of the kind of American colonialism that never appealed to me. Forever a Browncoat.         

“Well if all this bothers you so much and you don’t like it, why watch it?” you may say. “More importantly, why write about it and bother everyone with it? “ This is where watching Star Trek as a grown up comes as advantage, because as an adult I’m not so blinded by my political anger and righteousness and I can see the wonderfully brilliant things that is Star Trek. 

As a late but loyal Whovian, I was completely wowed by Doctor Who’s originality and radical nature, right from its very beginning and I expected Star Trek to be conventional and tamed in comparison, or a plain Americanised copy of Doctor Who. But this was a time before the US has made American versions of EVERYTHING and there were actual creative writers with their own original ideas. It was a pleasant surprise to discover that not only Who and Trek were quite different and independent from one another, but they hardly ever handled the same subject matters at the same times and their approach was always different. For political point of view that I am more comfortable with (apart from the era in which the Doctor became Unit’s adviser), intelligent craftiness of story telling, brilliant characters’ development, acting and time travel I watch Doctor Who. Pure sci fi, interesting plots, philosophical themes and The Shatner will mostly be found on Star Trek. Together Doctor Who and Star Trek cover everything I look for in sci fi and quality television in general.

I was especially impressed with how courageous Star Trek actually was. When I say courageous I don’t necessarily refer the notable diversity in the cast, which I am sure had a tremendous and important impact and no doubt vital influence on TV and beyond. While this too was and is exciting and brave, for me what made Star Trek exceptional, and still does today, were its sci fi themes, which were cutting edge at the time, some might still be today, and have become central to many sci fi materials.

Star Trek creator, Gene Roddenberry, is of the same generation as some of the great sci fi writers like Philip K Dick, Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, Frank Herbert and others and it’s not difficult to find related ideas and creeds in their works, mainly about what it means to be human, the constant conflict between logic and emotions, what is happiness and related topics like happiness, love, sex and god all flavoured with a true appetite for science and knowledge.      

After the first few films and Star Trek: The Next Generation, it was clear that it has become an unstoppable franchise. From what I have seen so far, the original series, the first six films, most of the first season of Next Generation and the two latest films, it seems that the Trek franchise remained loyal to the Roddenberry's spirit (he continued to act as a consultant in all Trek related works until his death) and continued to tackle similar topics as the original series, and at the same time stay fresh and relevant as it developed with the times. Since I watched the J.J Abrams Star Trek before I watched the original series, it is only in hindsight that I understood just how hard an act he had follow. 

Before delving into the debates about whether the decision to create a new timeline for the film wipes out the original series’ timeline or the fact that old Spock has the old memories means it still exists, and the kind of discussions time travel and timelines issues usually create, believe me I had a lot of those, I’d like to point out that the time travel plot device to change destiny is not as impressive if you are a fan of Back to the Future and Doctor Who or read a sci fi book or two. It has always annoyed me that many people gave this as an example to original and fresh scriptwriting. Time travel solutions are page one of sci fi writing and turned into a Superman like solutions. If you can solve everything with time travel, or in the case of Abrams’ Star Trek explain the changes to the original series, then, to me, it becomes in most cases boring. It’s a cheap trick and young Kirk says in the film “Coming back in time, changing history, that’s cheating”. The self awareness of saves it.

After watching the original series and adapting it to my heart, I re-watched Abrams’ Star Trek with different eyes. This time I found more flaws. Though I love Zachary Quinto and I think he is an excellent and talented actor, I abhor Spock’s emotional romance with Uhura! It goes against everything Spock symbolised in the original series and it looks to me as an attempt to make Spock more human and perhaps according to America, more relatable. This choice means that at the end of the day emotions triumph over logic, which defeats the idea of a struggle and correlation between them. In the original series there was a two part story called The Menagerie, in the end of it Kirk tells Spock of for acting emotionally when he kidnapped Captain Pike and hijacked the Enterprise. Spock answers that it was the logical thing to do. This is a much subtler way to confront logic and emotion and hint that perhaps sometimes they are interlinked. Alas Abrams chose a different path. 

The question of wiping out the original series has become an important following the impression the original series has left and suddenly the Abrams film felt more like a remake that claims ownership of the franchise rather than a reboot that respects all that was done before it. This feeling was enhanced with the new film Star Trek: Into Darkness, which felt very much like an inferior rewrite of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan. Oh well, not everyone is Christopher Nolan.

Moreover, the diversity of the cast is almost redundant today and by giving up the wonderful dialogues and conversations between the crew members, mainly Kirk, Spock, McCoy and Scotty with occasional priceless contributions from Chekhov, in favour of more action and SFX, Abrams loses most of what made the original Star Trek oh so wonderful. In interviews Abrams admitted to being more of a Star Wars fan and not much of a Star Trek fan and said that it felt too talkie and static for him. Indeed Abrams has turned Star Trek into a Star War.

It might seem like I didn’t particularly like the new Star Trek films, really, I don't know what gave you that impression, but actually I thoroughly enjoyed Star Trek and absolutely loved Star Trek: Into Darkness. Not only do I think Star Trek: Into Darkness is the better of the two, but I also think it is the best J.J Abrams film.

Star Trek: Into Darkness was fantastic fun, which might not seem like much and perhaps contradicts the darkness suggested in the title, but definitely reflect the feel of the original series, of how much fun it was to create and be a part of. Regardless to anything I mentioned above I found myself emotionally invested in the experience that was the film and enjoying several air punching moment. Benedict Cumberbatch was mesmerising and Zachary Quinto, compelling and wonderful. I was happy to see that Abrams obsession with flares has calmed down and the camera work was less annoyingly shaky, which meant I could actually see and enjoy the fight scenes, which were totally worth watching.

While it is clear to me that J.J Abrams is not only not a fan, but also probably doesn’t really get Star Trek, I can see that he understands and respects the fandom and the responsibility towards fans when taking on such a franchise and I do think that despite Abrams claims that he was trying to make a film for film goers rather than Trek fans, the film offers more to fans.

I loved how on the one hand Harrison was a classic villain, all powerful and menacing and bewitching at the same time, and boy does Cumberbatch know how to be both, and on the other hand he was similar to Kirk, perhaps a better version of him, and until the last moment and possibly a little bit after that I wasn’t sure that I wanted Kirk to be the winner.

But perhaps what I loved most of all, and that comes from the writers, was that the film not only made me want to watch the old films again, but also reminded me how much I love Star Trek.
Keeping such a classic so alive is... well...just wonderful and the film's ending, which was truly moving for a Trek fan held a promise that from there on it's the Star Trek. I can only hope that it has a similar effect on people who haven’t seen Star Trek before, or like me never paid attention (are there any such people? I thought I was the last one) and they will want to watch the real thing. 

   

  

A naive open letter to cinema theatre owners

Dear Cinema Owners:  


Over the last weekend I went to see two very different films in two very different cinemas. Both the type of films and the cinemas they were shown in attracted a completely different kind of crowd and yet the experience on both cinemas was appalling. This was the last drop of fuel in a fire that started when I first saw the Odeon's commercial for their Lounge Cinema and brought me to write this open plea to the powers that be of cinema exhibitors.

I used to have a dream to open my own cinema, where people will have to deposit their phones into a secure place before going into the screen to watch a film, where staff members enjoy working in because they care about films and not only will they keep an eye for interruptions during the films, but will also encourage the audience to cheer, clap or sing along with any film that made you want to do it. A cinema in which watching a film would be different.

Working at a cinema as a staff member and later a manager was a bit like a slap on the face which woke me up to the harsh reality of not just opening cinema, but trying to keep it alive. Even if I did ever manage to get my hands on the huge fortune that getting a premise would require, I would still have to fight an already losing battle  against the distribution companies, who are, let’s face it, the bullies of the film industry. 

The sad truth of cinema theatres nowadays, yes even the evil corporate chain ones, is that for a long time films are not what makes money for them and with the number of cinema goers constantly dropping, it is no wonder that cinemas are finding it hard to stay open, let along invest in the film experience.

I wrote before that unfortunately the government and/or the bodies who fund the UK film industry give very little if any thought for the exhibitors' side of the industry and it is up to them to come up with ways to make enough money to stay in the business. This is why the prices of snacks in cinemas is so ridiculous and why they keep trying to come up with new and “exciting” ways, one of the recent ones is the Lounge Cinema, to bring people to the cinema and spend money on more than the film.

Though sober now from silly little dreams and realising that not everything that cinema theatres are often accused of is necessarily their fault, I still can’t help feeling that somewhere along the way cinemas have lost sight of what really matters when it comes to watching a film at the cinema and with that lost their audiences and I believe, their chance to make better profit.

Everything that cinema theatres have come up with to try and keep people coming is either the kind of technology that can and has been transferred into home entertainment: surround sound, digital and HD of all kinds, 3D (peh, we shall speak no more of this evil) and even a big size screen, or, like the Lounge cinema, tries to make you feel at home by convincing you to pay extra money to seat comfortably, eat and drink while watching a film, something I personally have perfected for less money and higher quality at my own home.

Well, dear cinema owners, I have news for you, these are not the things that make the cinema experience unique and special and it may bring the audiences for a short term, but probably won't bring them back. It is the togetherness, the collective laughs, cries, gasps and the ooooohhhhhsss and ahhhhhhhhsss that makes the cinema experience a unique one and one which home entertainment, sophisticated as it may be, can't replicate. Moreover, investing in the audience, rather than the technology, the special chairs and the extra food, will cost less for cinemas.

True, after spending the weekend watching one film in which the woman sat next to me wouldn’t stop chatting like an idiot to her friend, and in another the person on the row in front of me blinded me throughout the film by playing with their phone every other minute, one would be inclined to lose faith and abandon this whole togetherness notion, but to be honest I can’t really point the finger at these people, because if a cinema theatre doesn’t care enough about the film to have someone insuring this kind of things don't happen, or as I have learned recently, to actually have a projectionist projecting the film, why would anybody else show any kind of respect for the film and the cinema it is showing in?

Apart from its magnificently huge screen and quality of projection, what sets the BFI IMAX apart and for me above other cinemas, is the respect it has for the films it shows, good or bad. This is why I and I know many like me, would pay the extra money to watch even a non IMAX film at the BFI IMAX. Unfortunately the BFI IMAX does not offer 2D screenings for 3D films, but I have been known to surrender and compromise on that issue simply because the cinema experience was still worth it, in most cases.

A staff member would come up and present the film before it starts, also asking people to turn off their phones and give safety instructions, often they receive cheers and claps, going to the bathroom in the middle of the film is done through the back door, so as to not cross the screen and interfere with the film, late comers are also admitted through the back door (if it was my cinema there will be no admission at all for late comers) and often the BFI IMAX cinema celebrates films with special screenings and allnighters for which people come dressed up and full of cheers.

In the many times I have been to the BFI IMAX people got involved with the film, cheering, laughing getting excited and not once have I ever been interrupted by the light or sound of a mobile phone or the mindless chatter. It just doesn't happen there, not necessarily because of the size of the screen, because the BFI IMAX[1] puts the cinema experience first. And no matter how bad the film can be (cough, Avatar, cough) or how addicted people can be to their phones, when a cinema shows that kind of respect to the viewing experience the audience is captured and has no choice but to let go of everything else and let the films work their magic (or not. Cough, Avatar, cough. Must do something about this cough).  

I may be one naive little girl who has watched Cinema Pardiso one too many times, but I still, despite of everything, love cinemas with all my heart and I think more people should watch more films at the cinema and I want cinema theatres to continue to exist and flourish. Since it is unlikely that I will be able to open my dream cinema all I can do, at least for the time being, is write and plead and perhaps foolishly hope to convince the powers that be of the films' exhibitors that the love of film is infectious and is the key to a successful cinema theatre and before the next chain opens a cinema where you can rent a bed to watch a film from, perhaps someone somewhere will remember how wonderful cinema can be when it's not trying to pretend it's your home. 



Faithfully yours, with love

 
Aya 

     

 

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[1] This is specifically the BFI IMAX experience and is different to all other IMAX cinemas.

The Hobbit, The Rings and Other Animals

I now have had time to calm down and let my rage about one of the most pointless and appalling 3D displays I have come across in a long time, die out, I think I can have a go at trying to share my thoughts of The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, without letting the above mentioned cloud my judgement too much.

I think I was probably slightly more disappointed with The Hobbit than I should have, because I really wanted this film to be wonderful. Everything building up to it looked so promising: the trailer looked fantastic, brilliant cast and a much needed sense of humour that was missing for the Lord of the Ring trilogy, I had good reasons to look forward to the kind of great film I know Peter Jackson is capable of making, which is why I broke my 3D rule and gave in to it thinking the film would be good enough for me not to care about it so much. Alas that wasn’t to be and for days I could think of nothing else regarding The Hobbit, but that shambolic 3D and no 48fps would make it any better. 

I was never a great fan of the Lord of the Ring trilogy. Though I did like the books slightly better than the films, I was never really into them quite as much, even less so with the films. Everyone told me I don’t know what I’m talking about and that apart from visually stunning the films are wonderful and magical and I don’t know what I’m talking about. The Hobbit’s trailer thrilled me so much more than any of the films did and I actually thought I should give The Ring trilogy another go. I took a deep breath, rolled up my sleeves and commenced the project of re-watching the trilogy in preparation for The Hobbit.

I am sorry to say I only barely survived the two films and have not yet managed to bring myself to watch the third. Not only have I not changed my mind about this trilogy, but the more I think about it the more annoyed I get with it and if I think a bit longer than I even get angry.

Thanks to the Lord of the Ring trilogy we have all discovered by how beautiful and wonderful New Zealand is (personally I find Flight of the Conchords a much bigger Kiwi attraction and a better publicity for NZ, but that's me). I could never understand this amazement of scenery in films. Call me crazy, but foolishly, when it comes to fiction films, I’d like the scenery to play a part in the film, other than the characters just walking through them. Surely if basking at the views is what rocks your boat, it'll be so much better to travel, or for a cheaper alternative watch a National Geographic film shot in NZ, why bother with all this story telling and character nonsense? 

One of the most wonderful uses of scenery and landscape in a film I have recently seen was in Lawrence of Arabia. I was bit worried about watching a four hours film set in the desert, I come from the desert I don’t necessarily relish the thought of looking at it for four hours. I was wrong. Every landscape shot of Lawrence of Arabia plays a part in the story: the burning son plays a major role in increasing suspense and tension, the wilderness, the neverending sands and its presence everywhere all contribute not just to the story and the general feel that there is no escaping or hiding from it, but also to the building and development of Lawrence's character. I can go on, but I think one has to see it to understand.

Another example is the latest Bond film, Skyfall, every location James Bond goes to is so vividly present in the film and is used to its full potential. Every country has its own nature and vibe to the point that even when it is an interior scene in Shanghai or in London, one gets the feeling it could never have been shot in any interior anywhere else in the world.

The Lord of the Ring trilogy, and for that matter The Hobbit as well, never once made me feel that there is any significance to the scenery other than to show the characters walking through it, which would have been fine if it wasn’t for the inflation of landscape shots in these films in comparison to other films of this kind. This journey could have just as easily been made out of some of the rural parts of Europe (I don’t see why Middle Earth couldn’t have been made out of the Tiroll parts of the Alps for example or Nottingham forest even), America or South America or anywhere with mountains and forests, and it would have been just as stunning on camera, believe me. It just happens to be that Peter Jackson was born in New Zealand and either he was feeling patriotic or it was the simplest of solutions The point is, if you’re going to make a trilogy made out of three hours film for each of its parts, and make at least 50% of it if not more landscape shot, maybe you should consider making the landscape work for the story and not just for the country that funds your film.  

The second major problem of the Lord of the Ring trilogy is that it simply did not keep me interested for the length of each film, there is hardly any interesting development, the lead character and the actor that plays him are so vanilla that it makes me want to give up desert altogether and the dialogues are bland and tiresome. Nothing in these films justifies their length and I often found myself losing concentration and doing maths in my head to keep myself from complete numbness and boredom. 

At first I thought that maybe the problem is with me, that I have grown to old, too impatient and I get easily distracted. Am I really incapable of maintaining concentration for that long? Is my commitment to films so fragile? I don’t think so. Once again I remember Lawrence of Arabia that kept me so engaged and mesmerised that the interval took me by surprise. The fact that I gave two out of the three Lord of the Ring films a second chance and watched them in full despite my previous aversion to it, which meant I spent 15 hours on that trilogy, was my final proof that my commitment to films is pure and it is the films that didn’t work for me and not me for the films. Unfortunately very little has changed when it came to The Hobbit and I found myself watching Lord of the Ring 4. 

Despite its title the film is not really the Hobbit’s story, in fact it’s everybody else’s story in which Bilbo Baggins, who is suppose to be the main character, is only a side kick to. 

Martin Freeman is one of my favourite actors, even though I'm probably the only person alive that while liking The Office, didn’t really like Freeman’s character in it, Tim, I knew, however that he is one hell of a talent. Needless to say he is probably the best Doctor Watson I have had the pleasure of watching, but even in small role like in Love Actually or a silly film like Nativity, Freeman leaves his mark and is a good enough reason to watch and he gives excellent performances. 

In The Hobbit, sadly, Freeman just falls into his usual tricks and much like Hugh Grant and Ron Atkinson create a clichéd and chewed up character the Americans like rather than show his true talent, and while Freeman does it with much grace and is still lovely, it is to me a waste and contributes to his blending into the background amongst the array of talents and characters around him. Shame.

Many things that would normally win me over, like the dwarves singing (I'm a sucker for musicals and musical moments in films) and the whole scene with the dwarves at Bilbo's house, for some reason annoyed me. They felt forced and unnatural to the film, as if Jackson is trying to score points with as wide an audience as he possibly can. Sorry Jackson, just because it worked for Indiana Jones doesn't mean it will always work, not everyone is Steven Spielberg.

Not everything is bad in The Hobbit, there are some excellent scenes and a wonderful array of characters, namely Sylvester McCoy’s Radgast, the magician who has a questionable relationship with animals, Barry Humphries’ Great Goblin (though we all know David Bowie is the true Goblin king) and of course the master of all things CGI, Andy Serkis’ Gollum, who has reached new levels of awesomeness in this film. Sadly, it takes a lot of excruciatingly long nothing in between to get to those moment and the result feels more like some sketches roughly patched together with, oh what a shock, it's New Zealand's scenery again, than a cohesive film.

Upon reflecting the issue a bit further, it had occurred to me that I may have an issue with fantasy films. I cast my thoughts and tried to remember all kinds of fantasy films and wondered could it be that I don’t like fantasy films? Then I remembered that Labyrinth, The Princess Bride, Fantasia and many of the great Disney films as well as many sci fi and adventure films are amongst my favourite. I have noticed, however, that I am not amongst the Harry Potter films fan, The Neverending Story is considered the worst crime against a book ever in my eyes, I’d probably prefer spending a day watching a wall without even paint drying on it than watch or read any of the Twilight series and as you may have figure out by now, I am not amongst the Lord of the Ring trilogy fans.

It seems to me that when it comes to fantasy in films I prefer it to be an original script, or if it has to be a book adaptation, like many of the Disney films, it has to be so unique and wonderful that it will make me forget there was a book. 

The thing about fantasy books is that they create things and places that don’t exist in reality and so free your mind to imagine them as wish. Films on the other hand chain the fantasy to a certain reality, which as beautiful as New Zealand may be, it will never come close to how I imagined Middle Earth when I first read it. Admittedly it was much more upsetting for me to have two wonderful and complex kids like Bastian and Ateryu from The Neverending Story reduced to a cute well behaved Hollywood style kids as they were in the film, than to have New Zealand made into Middle Earth.

It really saddens me to think that The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey is the first part of yet another trilogy, made of a story that never merited one (all those lost parts you found Peter Jackson, I think there was a reason why they were lost). When considering the shoddy 3D, and no I’m not impressed with 48fps solution, I can’t help but wonder if now that George Lucas is nursing his midlife crisis (yes I know he’s long past the age, but that says something don’t you think?) is Peter Jackson the next to take his place in milking that cash cow until her udders shrivel and fall, then chew it a bit longer and spit it out in our faces until we are all smothered by Hobbits, Elves, dwarves and Gandalfs?    

Leslie's Christmas Music

By Leslie McMurtry 

Hello there.  I can’t pretend to be an arbiter of taste, and I’m by no means a musical expert.  While I consider my taste to be fairly varied, I haven’t been musically adventurous long.  Also, I have not acquired much new music in the past few years due to lack of funds.  Therefore, I hope this post will be a springboard for others to contribute their favorite holiday albums.  What do you rock out or relax to during the holidays (assuming you celebrate them)?  Is it a time for quiet contemplation and spirituality or high-spirited, feel-good fun?  Perhaps a little of both—that’s what you’ll find in my highly prejudiced but completely sincere guide to Some Darned Good Holiday Music below. 

Barenaked Ladies – Barenaked for the Holidays

Maybe it’s wistful of me, but I can’t see a reason why anyone wouldn’t like this album.  But then I love the Barenaked Ladies, their blend of wry, wacky humor and good musicianship.  The tone of the album is upbeat and cheerful, despite a number of more contemplative seasonal offerings.  It is, unsurprisingly, also overwhelmingly secular, though its title is earned by the inclusion of some soulful songs for Hanukkah, “Hanukkah Blessings,” “Hanukkah O Hanukkah” and “I Have a Little Dreidel.”  I do love a good blend of reworkings and new stuff on a Christmas album and therefore have a preference for musicians who dare to come up with original works.  In my opinion, BNL here succeeds greatly with the melancholy but melodic “Snowman,” written by Ed Robertson, the witty and sweet “Footprints,” and Kevin Hearn’s “Christmastime (Oh Yeah)” (with an absolutely gorgeous harmonic chorus).  Let’s not forget the verbally energetic “Green Christmas,” whose multiple meanings riff off of Holiday Inn and The Grinch Who Stole Christmas.  And, perhaps most successfully, “Elf’s Lament,” a wonderfully energetic lyrical tightrope act with the participation of fellow Canadian (and all around mellow voice) Michael Bublé.  Another well-known Canadian, Sarah Maclaughlan, joins them on a moody, jazzy rendition of “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” / “We Three Kings” though the rest of the covers tend to fall more into the area of kitsch.  (The “Deck the Stills” is a witty reworking.)  The exception is an even-toned and quite beautiful version of “Do They Know It’s Christmas?”  A bouncy addition to any Christmas scene.        

Vince Guaraldi Trio –A Charlie Brown Christmas

This soundtrack could hardly be called unknown to those in the US, but for the sake of the rest of the world, it’s worth highlighting it.  Like Barenaked for the Holidays, the principal tone of this album is upbeat energy.  Composed, of course, for the 1965 TV program A Charlie Brown Christmas, based on Charles M. Schulz’ Peanuts cartoons, several of the compositions could not, out of context, be identified with Christmas.  “Skating,” for instance, beautifully evokes the whorls and twirls of ice skating (much in the way Rhapsody in Blue gives colorful jazz pictures in sound); “Linus and Lucy” would sound to any uninitiated ear like piano-driven jazz party music, which, technically, it is.  By association, however, they are as much a part of the Christmas experience as the contemplative and bittersweet version of “O Tannenbaum” and the buoyant, lingering “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing.”  Vince Guaraldi arrived on the jazz scene in the early 1950s and was well-known for his composition, “Cast Your Fate to the Wind,” when he was approached in 1964 by Lee Mendelson and Bob Melendez to collaborate on Peanuts projects.  The rest is musical history.  Perhaps most poignant of all on the album is “Christmas Time Is Here,” a Guaraldi-penned piece full of wistfulness and anticipation. 

Bonnie Rideout, Al Petteway, and Maggie Sansone – A Scottish Christmas

“A Scottish Christmas” as a show toured Albuquerque once, and though I had a cold, I was very happy to have seen them.  As Bonnie Rideout remarks in the liner notes, partially the album sprung from a Christmas card she once saw of a Scottish castle in snow, Christmas lights, and a man in a kilt bringing an evergreen home.  She always knew she wanted to use this as an album cover and, lo and behold, it’s the evocative image that accompanies A Scottish Christmas.  The opening track, “O Come O Come Emanuel / God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen” was the first song at the concert, as well, and made a thunderous first impression with its Highland fife drums and droning pipes.  “Here We Come A-Wassailing,” a carousing English carol, is given the Scottish treatment when tied to “The Bottom of the Punchbowl.”  “What Child Is This?” is treated with keening bagpipes, as is “O Come All Ye Faithful.”  There are some beautiful, lesser-known pieces from the Scottish tradition, running the gamut of the joyful (“Christmas Carousing/Ale Is Dear/New Christmas”) to the mournful (“Gloomy Winter”).  Unsurprisingly, their version of “Auld Lang Syne” is particularly good, tying together as it does the various currents of tune, lyrics, and its modern variant.  I remember this song, of course, finished up the concert and required all concert-goers to stand up, link hands, and sing along, which I loved.   

San Francisco Cast of Phantom of the Opera – Christmas Center Stage

Sometimes we are blessed with fortuitous accidents.  My finding this CD many years after its release was one such occasion.  Currently a fan of Phantom of the Opera for the past 12 years, I guess I would have found this album eventually, but what a find.  In 1997, the San Francisco Cast of Phantom of the Opera (the Lloyd Webber stage show) produced this charity album for The Taylor Family Foundation and Broadway Cares:  Equity Fights AIDS.  It’s fairly common to find a Broadway star doing a Christmas solo album, but the entire cast . . .!  Despite the slightly prosaic piano accompaniment to most of the pieces, there are some truly memorable contributions.  Franc D’Ambrosio (the Phantom) and Lisa Vroman (Christine) do a heartwarming version of the Carpenters’ “Merry Christmas, Darling” and then are joined by Christopher Carl (Raoul) for a dashing “Auld Lang Syne”/”What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?”  In between is John Minagro’s  (Don Attilo) scenery-chewing “You’re a Mean One, Mr Grinch” and Karen Culliver’s (Alternate Christine) haunting “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” similar in tone to the Judy Garland original.  There is something for everyone’s tastes, from the grandiloquent “Panis Angelicus” with the San Francisco Boys Chorus to the classy “White Christmas” by Norman Large.  I’m also really fond of the ensemble numbers such as a musical setting of “’Twas the Night Before Christmas” and “Canon in D.”  I just wish more casts of Phantom had followed suit.    

Windham Hill – Celtic Christmas III

Windham Hill, the New Age record label, released this compilation in 1997.  Though it could hardly be called “traditional,” it is a beautiful evocation of the winter season and therefore, I believe, belongs in this post.  David Agnew and David Downes rework the Irish carol, “The Wexford Carol,” hauntingly; David Arkenstone composes the cheering “Angels in the Snow.”  Brian Dunning and Jeff Johnson’s “Raven in the Snow” attains a feeling of wintry splendour while also imbuing the listener with a sense of cheer.  Lisa Lynne’s two pieces on harp, “Home” and “Circle of Joy,” round out the more buoyant selections.  Nightnoise’s “Lully Lullay” is a version of the Coventry Carol.  Maighread Ni Dhomhnaill and Triona Ni Dhomhnaill contribute a haunting piano ballad, “The Snows,” James McNally’s atmospheric and dark “Black is the Colour” ties with Patrick Cassidy’s “Lament” as having a very cinematic sound.  Moreover, these pieces speak to our sense of nature at this time of year, even if not all of them have a direct link to Christmas.   

Hayley Westenra—Winter Magic

As I said above, I admire musicians who can compose engaging new holiday melodies in addition to reworking favorite carols and songs.  Kiwi singer Hayley Westenra, though classically trained, morphs well into pop-folk, the mode in which her personal contributions are made on this album.  “Christmas Morning” is a sweet, lovely, and optimistic anticipatory look at Christmas; “Peace Shall Come” has a forgiveably mainstream pop tinge to it due to its catchiness; “All With You” is a stirring hand held out across the miles to anyone separated at Christmas and never fails to make me cry.  The opener, “The Little Road to Bethlehem,” is a gentle and imaginative look back 2,000 years to the celebrated shepherds.  Her rendition of Joni Mitchell’s “River” is one of my favorites (as is Michael Ball’s from his album Christmas).  Equally, her exquisite a capella version of “The Coventry Carol” showcases her dazzlingly pure soprano, as does the piano-driven “Carol of the Bells.”  Westenra’s “River of Dreams,” by rights—a setting of the second movement of Vivaldi’s “Winter” from The Four Seasons—should also be on this album. 

Musica Antigua de Albuquerque—A Rose of Swych Virtu

Having now seen Musica Antigua twice in concert—once as a performance of this very album and once as a similar collection of medieval and Renaissance Christmas music, Stella Nuova—I can wholeheartedly recommend the live experience.  That proving impossible, the album is the next best thing.  Musica Antigua, founded in 1978 to showcase European early music, are astoundingly talented, playing a variety of archaic instruments from the shawm to the cornemuse (and the hurdy gurdy, which is thrilling to see in performance)  as well as singing in the many close harmony forms of the period.  They are devoted researchers into the extant texts and adept at uncovering hidden gems.  To that end, you will not find admittedly ancient carols such as “O Come O Come Emanuel” (though one of the first macaronic carols, “In Dulci Jubilo,” from the 14^th century, does make an appearance, delightfully so).  Instead, be prepared for the rhythmic and wholly catchy “Cuncti simus concanentes,” an Annunciation carol from the 14^th century Red Book of Spain, and the lovely English hymn “Edi be thu, heven-queene.”  The charming “Ach mein herzliebes Jesulein” is an early Baroque carol from Brandenburg which is a simple message from Mary to baby Jesus.  There are a variety of provenances for these beautifully orchestrated and performed carols.  They are truly enchanting to be seen performed, though if you should listen to the album I recommend finding out more about the instruments they’re played on. 

The Metropolitan Museum of Art—A Classical Christmas

The only complaint against this album is that it may be too short.  That said, the compilation—recordings spanning the years between 1967 to 1989—is elegant and spans the Renaissance to the early 20^th century.  Its definition of “classical” stretches from some absolutely gorgeous brass renditions—the Empire Brass’ graceful version of “O Christmas Tree” not to mention their outstanding “Sleepers, Awake!”, which some will recognize as the same tune as “While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks”—to more orchestral pieces like Kathleen Battle singing “O Holy Night,” the great 19^th century French classic.  It wouldn’t be Christmas without the “Hallelujah Chorus,” but there are some incredibly gorgeous versions of more contemporary classical music, such as John Rutter’s “Nativity Carol” as performed by the Clare College Singers and Orchestra and Fauré’s “Requiem:  Sanctus,” performed by the Choir of King’s College.  One could drift into blissful slumber listening to the strains of Michael Praetorius’ Renaissance hymn “Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming” and the traditional Austrian carol “Still, Still, Still” performed by the Windsbacher Boys’ Choir. 

Now That’s What I Call Christmas (2001)

A bit of a cheat, but a great grab-bag—something for everyone!  If the funky insouciance of the Barenaked Ladies isn’t for you, nor is early music, you couldn’t do wrong with the 36 tracks on this 2-disc set.  A solid grouping of “old standards are here,” the originals, you might say, such as Nat King Cole’s “The Christmas Song,” Bing Crosby’s “White Christmas,” Dean Martin’s “Let It Snow,” and Brenda Lee’s “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.”  Elvis’ “Blue Christmas” is a must, along with Burl Ives’ “Holly Jolly Christmas” and Gene Autry’s “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer.”  The original Band-Aid “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” is here,  along with the rare David Bowie/Bing Crosby duet on “Peace On Earth/Little Drummer Boy.”  Kathy Mattea’s “Christmas Collage” is a modern classic. 

And . . .

Any recording of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker will never be hackneyed to me.  It must be added to the mix.

For some Trans-Siberian Orchestra-esque head-turning, try Nightwish’s version of classic English children’s Christmas song, “Walking in the Air,” from The Snowman. 

A festive scattering of Mannheim Steamroller does not usually go amiss. 

What would you add to the mix?

Please take a look at Ian Anderson’s incredibly well-researched All Hymns and Carols for more information on carol history.  http://www.hymnsandcarolsofchristmas.com/HTML/index_of_carols_s.htm

When Disney Met Pixar

I haven't yet seen Brave and judging by the trailers and reviews I probably won't see it for a while. These are just some general thoughts following the claims that Disney's acquisition has finally taken its toll of the seemingly invinceable Pixar.

In 2006 it was dramatically announced that The Walt Disney Company bought Pixar Animation Studios, and the animation film world, which was largely made out of those two companies, gasped and anxiously waited to see what would happen to Pixar.
The merge between Disney and Pixar was surprising considering the history of bitter rivalry between the companies, made worse when Disney, who handled distribution and marketing for Pixar before the merge, had a disagreement with Pixar following the release of Toy Story 2, and Disney's first attempt to buy Pixar in 2004 ended with Steve Job announcing that Pixar would no longer release films with Disney and that they were looking for another partner to work with. However, in 2006 with Disney's new CEO Robert Iger and a different approach, Disney and Pixar finally came together. 

It was expected that Pixar would change and trample under Disney's regime, but Disney needed Pixar, quite possibly more than Pixar needed Disney, so they can step into the world of computer animation and breath some life into their increasingly flopping films. Therefore, Pixar, which was always with the finger on the pulse technology wise and paraded a row of excellent and successful films both critically and financially, became precious and almost untouchable. It's as if the almighty Disney is tip toeing around Pixar, just as long as they continue to do what it is they're doing to bring in the crowds. 

And indeed Pixar delivered with fantastic and exceptional films like the brilliant Wall-E, Ratatouille and Up. And while I personally don't go crazy for Toy Story films, no doubt I don't know what I'm talking about and am a minority if not the only one. Even Cars and Cars 2, which received mild reviews was forgiven by critics, and made up for for with box office and merchandising success. Disney-Pixar seemed like a match made in heaven. 

What interested me at the time was that no one wondered what happened to Disney. Not only did they buy Pixar, a relatively small company at the time, for a crazy sum of money and the kind of conditions that makes you wonder who actually bought who in this marriage, but it Disney must have put a lot of eggs in that Pixar basket, because it seemed as if Pixar was not affected by the merge at all and only grow stronger. Disney practically made Pixar its animation department and the company that brought us classics like Bambi, Jungle Book, Lady and the Tramp, Aladdin and the only other animation film nominated for Oscar as best film, Beauty and the Beast, almost abandoned animation altogether in favour of a bizarre collection of live action films. Previously talked about hand drawn animation project got lost in between High School Musical and Pirates of the Caribbean films. Disney's own unique animation faded until it almost completely disappeared. With the exception of the lovely Tangled and the charming Enchanted, which while not animation is very much Disney in character, it feels like the animation giant is nearly swallowed by little fish Pixar, and I, for once, miss a bit of Disney.
 
It feels a little wrong writing any bad word about Pixar. I do love many of their films with a passion and there is no doubt that when it comes to animation technology the company who started as a part of Lucas studios and then was owned by Apple, have no competition, but then again that's kinda what always bothered me about Pixar. Their films are always so slick, smooth and shiny, it's like they are too perfect and daring to think that the Toy Story films are not all that is blasphemy. However, it looks as if Brave is the first film from Pixar to cause a big enough disappointment amongst critics to raise the question has Pixar finally changed following the evil Disney acquisition. 


I don't think Pixar has changed at all during its time with Disney, and I believe the drop in quality of Brave is a result of complacency and the comfortableness that come with the kind of critical and financial success Pixar has been enjoying and not a 'Disney effect'. From what I saw in the trailer as well as the reviews I read, nothing about Brave looks non Pixar-esque, and Pixar kept its own identity after the acquisition with such zeal that I find it hard to believe that things suddenly changed, Brave simply looks tired and banal and doesn't have the kind of originality one would expect from a Pixar film, but it doesn't feel like a Disney film, good or bad, either. It's been a while since any animation film felt like a Disney film.
 
I'm not an animation expert, I don't even like Anime, which until not long ago I was still referring to as Manga, I have a soft spot for DreamWorks animation, even when they are rubbish, I liked the first Toy Story and the other two bored me and I preferred the first and second Shrek and How to Train your Dragon to all of them, I like Wallace and Gromit, The Fantastic Mr. Fox and I love the Pixar shorts, sometimes more than the film they precede. Most of all I prefer my animation to look like animation, even the most primitive one, and not like an imitation of live action. So really what do I know? Only that maybe Pixar needs a little Disney magic right about now.

Conversation with David Shore

David Shore, creator of House, recently went on a holiday to Israel and visited a school to discuss with the students about TV making in the US. The event was hosted by Yair Rave, an Israeli film critic, editor, academic and scriptwriter. Some of the conversation was advertised in Mr. Rave’s blog and since I found it very interesting I thought it was worth translating to English and publish on my blog so others could read as well. For you Hebrew readers out there here is the original post. My few interjections will be in Italic. There is but a minor spoiler for season seven of House, for which I shall give warning.

David Shore was responsible for every word and every shot of the series House from the first episode to its last, 177 episodes later. For eight seasons he was the creator, executive producer in charge, the show-runner and on two episodes he was also the director. He created the series as homage to Sherlock Holmes stories that he loves so much - developed it and took it from its beginning to its very end. This week, two months after the series finale, he came to Israel to participate in some family celebrations: weddings and Brith [circumcision] (Shore has two twin brothers who became religious and live in Jerusalem and teach at Yeshiva Esh HaTorah). On Monday he came with his parents, wife, brother and nephew to "Maale" school, to talk with students about making television in America. I [Yair Rave] hosted the event.

So what is this credit, "Created by"?
"It’s the credit for the screenwriter who wrote the pilot. Even if I was wrote the pilot for House and then left the series, I would still get credit for creator. This credit is also our, screenwriters’, revenge against directors for their A Film By credit in movies. Director directs a film and it becomes immediately his film, so we, screenwriters, have the writers' creator credit on TV”.

There have been cases of people who wrote the pilot and moved on, but still got "creator" credit, even though someone else took over.
"True, but it became less common in recent years. You create a series that you want to see through. This is why I suggested House to the networks only after I was a show-runner of another series. If I offered them a series as a junior scriptwriter, they just might do it, but would not let me be in charge of it. American television is heaven for scriptwriters. They are in fact the big bosses of drama and comedy series. Directors work for them” (Shore says with venom, and suddenly you realise where House brings his cynicism: "I have a friend who works on another series, not ours, he told me that they call directors behind their backs, the people we give half of our money to").  

Each episode of House was filmed in nine days. The director would arrive a little bit before, preparing, filming, editing and leaving. Shore and his team would give the director a finished script, which he wasn’t allowed to change, and after the director is done, Shore and his team would go into the editing room to correct what the he missed or ruined in their view. Though Shore, in moments humility, admits that the directors did come up with good ideas of their own here and there, they know how to manage the production professionally and on time, and a good director knows how to break up the pace and tone right, in the same breath he also says that the director on a TV series is almost the most superfluous about it. The show - runner makes almost all the decisions before and after the director. "Europe is a bit different," he says, "There the producer is the main boss."

Israeli TV series’ are a bit like very long features. Screenwriters finish writing and pass the scripts to the directors and pretty much are out the picture at this stage. The series’ are filmed across chapters. I mean you take a scene from Chapter 2 and then a scene in Chapter 13, that both happen in the same location, and not like yours, every episode filmed as a separate work.
"Perhaps your system has certain logic to it. If the series is pre-written, maybe it's the right way to shoot it. The American system, in which writers are running the show, didn’t happen because producers and networks love scriptwriters so much, but because over time they discovered it’s not possible otherwise. This train is so long, 22 episodes per year, and the longest part of this process is the writing, so if the writers did not run the business it would get stuck. That and the fact that the Writers Guild in Hollywood very strong. "

If you were to return to the US after your holiday and start working on season nine, tell me how would you start?
"I work a little differently from most other series’. Most series’ have an active writers’-room that works all year round and they develop ideas together. I gather the writers'-room a few times each year and then work with each writer personally. One reason for this is that we had twelve screenwriters. This is twice as many as most series’. I convinced Fox that I need twelve writers because our scripts need a lot of research, which is true by the way. We would meet at the beginning of the work, after the holiday, and first of all discuss what the main plot lines of the upcoming season would be. Although, each episode stood on its own, the series had seasonal plot lines. For example, [ when House and Cuddy become a couple, we debated how long would it hold, one chapter, half a season, full season? Once we decided on a complete season's story line, we were doing the rounds of the writers and everyone would make a pitch for two - three ideas at times. Each episode should contain a single medical mystery, and a story involving House. Sometimes I would see that one medical story fits a different story of House then I would suggest uniting the plots. We would finish the sessions having initial ideas for half a season, and every idea had a screenwriter assigned to it. Then each writer goes and writes a one page outline for their episode and sends to me. I would send them notes and they developed a three pages outline, then a fourteen pages outline, then the script. From idea to script is a process that takes several weeks. 

With twelve screenwriters, how you ensure that the language of the characters and their character will not change from episode to episode?
"We have talented writers. And besides, I am rewriting all the scripts myself."

Shore is not necessarily the best example for the average Film & Television student. He studied law and began working as a lawyer. He never learned writing for films, but writing for television interested him. So he left Canada where he was born, raised and educated, and moved to Los Angeles. There he wandered for two years, wrote sample script for agents and never saw a penny, until he found a job on Canadian series’ of all things, including the television series created by Paul Haggis Due South. From there he joined the screenwriting team of The Practice and Law & Order and in 2003 started work on developing his idea for House, under Paul Attanasio’s production company (Homicide: Life on the Street). That's the lesson he teaches students: Slowly. It took him ten years to work his way from a junior writer to have his own show. Ten years in which he went through all the jobs of the writing and production team of a US TV series and in which he learned from some of the top TV makers in America.

Now Shore has his own production company, which, just as it finished House, moved from NBC-Universal to a three years developing contract with Sony, which guarantees Shore an eight-figure sum. So he sits and develop. What? He doesn’t say, but promises that there is nothing specific he is working on now.

When you wrote House, what would you start the script with: the disease or the drama?
"We have three doctors who advised us, if you ask them this question they'll give you the opposite answer from me: that everything started with the ideas of diseases and symptoms they brought us, but usually we started with the drama. There was something we wanted to say, or a dramatic situation we wanted to achieve. Sometimes we started with a symptom: someone who wants to tell only the truth in an episode where House talks about the benefits of lying, then we went to our doctors and asked them to find us diseases that can match these symptoms. " 

The opening titles of House lasted forever. Many people are credited as Executive Producer. What does it mean? All of these people have an input in series?
"You could say that the credit, Executive Producer (producer in charge) is more a matter of honor than of an actual role. Bryan Singer, for example, directed the pilot, and he got himself a contract that guaranteed him an Executive Producer credit for the whole of the series, same thing with Paul Attanasio, who was the man who closed the deals with the networks for us at the outset. The rest are people from the series that in their negotiations to continue with future seasons asked for this like Hugh Laurie and several veteran screenwriters. Scriptwriters can request a credit that specifies their seniority in the series. It starts from Staff Writer in the roller and can move to Executive Producer for the opening titles. "

What about changes in the script during filming? Would you allow?
"We have no such thing. First of all, improvising is not allowed. Actor should say what is written in the script. If an actor has a suggestion to improve, or if they have a problem with something, it's their job to come to us before the shoot so we can find a solution and put it into the script. But we do not work on the script during filming. Sometimes, in the middle of shooting, an actor tells me he has a problem with a line and I tell myself 'This is really annoying! We work weeks on these scripts, and work really hard. The can actually be some problems or it's not perfect , but we worked on it, then at least have the respect to be prepared, and if you have a problem with something in the script, you have enough time to discuss it in advance. "

This is a great answer. But what do you tell the actor?
"That we will do it twice. Once as it is written in the script and the second time as he thinks it’s ought to be, and decide to edit. In recent years, Hugh Laurie became sensitive to that and he actually stopped people trying to change a scene or dialogue in the middle of filming and told them that a lot of work was put into these scripts and that next time they should come more prepared for their role.

One of the things I loved House is the fact that quite a few of the episodes have a moral debate around an issue, and the episode presents various aspects of the matter and breaks down the issue into its constituent parts. Now when that I meet your brother, a yeshiva student, I wonder if he would send you discussions from the Talmud to turn them into dramatic ideas?
"No, it never happened. And a lot of people told me that there were scenes that reminded them of Talmudic discussions. It just goes to show that the Talmud has no exclusivity on moral debates.”

"One exercise I liked doing with my writers - I used to do this a lot, but towards the end I was too lazy - is to ask them to write a paragraph about a subject that matters to them. Then write a paragraph presenting the opposite position to theirs. The idea is that when House says something, whoever stands in front of him, usually someone in a guest appearance, would present a strong opposing argument that would be convincing. If everyone in front of House were idiots it wouldn’t be interesting. The thing is, that although we don’t like to think so, most people who think opposite from us have good intentions as we do - Well, maybe not everyone, but some smart people with good intentions, and the drama becomes more interesting when the debate is between two strong people. Otherwise it's just my preaching on my philosophy and not TV series. "

The conversation went on for over an hour and Shore talked about many more things. Some of the questions that appear in this post were asked by students and not necessarily by me [Rave]. There were quite a few specific questions related to the series, House himself and the finale, but I preferred not to present them here and focus on describing the work process of writing the series instead. The meeting was recorded on videotape, but we had sound problems. If they can be solved, I hope I can post later in the full meeting between the bull and the students.

A Vertigo High

“Are you watching closely?”

“Every great magic trick consists of three parts or acts. The first part is called "The Pledge". The magician shows you something ordinary: a deck of cards, a bird or a man. He shows you this object. Perhaps he asks you to inspect it to see if it is indeed real, unaltered, normal. But of course... it probably isn't. The second act is called "The Turn". The magician takes the ordinary something and makes it do something extraordinary. Now you're looking for the secret... but you won't find it, because of course you're not really looking. You don't really want to know. You want to be fooled. But you wouldn't clap yet. Because making something disappear isn't enough; you have to bring it back. That's why every magic trick has a third act, the hardest part, the part we call 'The Prestige'." (The Prestige, 2006) 

Recently Sight & Sound magazine caused a stir when it announced dramatically that Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo has booted Orson Welles’ long serving Citizen Cane, which reins (or perhaps reined) almost all lists of this kind,  from the first place in the top however many critic’s poll list the magazine carries out annually. While I agree that Vertigo is a better film, in my view Citizen Cane is not even Welles’ best film, and I’m always happy to see a Hitchcock at the top of lists, these type of lists are usually quite meaningless to me, and I use them as a check point for how many films have I seen and what films I still need to see. Choosing a favourite film of one filmmaker is difficult enough, having to choose between Wells and Hitchcock, Felini and the Cohen brothers or Woody Allen and Steven Spielberg and declare one as the all time best film is inconceivable. 

Luckily I never had to face this choice, but the critics who took part in the Sight & Sound poll chose, for the first time, Vertigo. The result of this polls came at the height of the Hitchcock season following the amazing restoration work the BFI have done on some of his older films and with the genius' birthday on August 13th (I'm sure conspiracy theorists would find this timing suspicious). I have decided to ride this wave of hoopla around Vertigo and while I shall not attempt to rank it on any kind of list, I would like to take a moment and point out why Vertigo is indeed a masterpiece.

A while back on another kind of list (alas it is for Hebrew readers only) I was asked, as a renowned Hitchcock obsessed, to write a few words about Vertigo, which made the ninth place together with seven other films (amongst them Citizen Cane). I chose to use the above quote from the opening monologue from Christopher Nolan’s brilliant film The Prestige for I could not have written anything better sum up Vertigo in a few words. Indeed what is Vertigo but an astonishing magic trick and Hitchcock its conjurer?

I have read so much about Hitchcock and Vertigo in particular, I’ve studied and discussed the film to death and back, yet trying to write about it, I find myself unable to express the effect this film had over me and its importance. Everything I have to say seems so redundant when you can just watch the film and experience its magnificence. Or perhaps it’s because François Truffaut and Alfred Hitchcock himself have already said it all, and so passionately, from Truffaut no doubt, and beautifully, in Truffaut’s brilliant book Truffaut Hitchcock.

In Truffaut’s book, Hitchcock tells how he explained to his leading lady Kim Novak that the visual impact was more important to him than the story, which is one of the reasons for his obsession with her clothes and hair. Apart from being still relevant today, when the story worship trend often tends to push cinema aside, Hitchcock statement is radical and one of the things that sets him apart as a genius of filmmaking.

Indeed, after exhausting the discussions about necrophilia, the dressing and undressing of Hitchcock's latest blond and the comparison between Hitch and his leading male characters, you are still left with such a powerful visual experience its images have become so iconic. 

It's funny, Hitchcock says in Truffaut's book that he was always bothered by a flaw in the story: how could the husband be sure that Scotty wouldn't make it up the stairs? It seems quite a gamble for someone who plans to murder his wife. This never bothered me, nor did it seem to bother Truffaut, because the murder story is almost insignificant. Instead Vertigo offers two very thrilling, yet quite different films within one. 

The first is a romantic film with added ghost story flavour and a tragic ending that makes it almost mythic. Hitchcock’s preference of suspense over surprise meant that he deviated from D’Entre les Morts, the book Vertigo was based on, and reveal the twist at the beginning of the second part of the film, and made it, quite suddenly, into a different kind of film, which at the same time changes and strengthen the nature of the story that preceded it.

Scotty, his vertigo and consequently his inability to prevent the falling of the people around him, are the thread that goes through the film and tie it together into the powerful masterpiece it is. While it is true that Scotty repeatedly fails to stop the people close to him from slipping away from him, quite literately, it is a different Scotty at the beginning of the film hanging to dear life, having to watch his colleague fall to his death as he tries to save him, to the Scotty who couldn't save the woman he loved and has to live with the loss for the rest of his life, perhaps he was trying to redeem himself for that first incident through her, to the Scotty who watched the woman who damaged him fall into her death at the end.

So much has been written and said about Scotty's obsession with turning Judy in to the dead Madeline and various meanings of it, all interesting and generally add even more value to this film. However, if I put those aside for a moment and go back to the first time I watched Vertigo, to my instinctive fist reaction to the reappearance of Madeleine on the screen, I felt, in correspondence to the opening quote from The Prestige, like I watched an unbelievable magic trick. Knowing and seeing how it was done made it, all the more astonishing, because as a great fictional character once said: "The fun is in knowing [...] If the wonder is gone when the truth is known, there never was any wonder." And for me Vertigo is a cinematic wonder.