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FullMetal_Atheist Blog

  • Did Jesus actually exist?

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    Brian Flemming (who co-wrote BatBoy: The Musical, for which his soul shall be eternally damned) wrote and directed this funny and irrevelent look at what he considers to be the myth of Jesus Christ.

    For sure this is a polemical film, although Flemming does allow a handful of Christians to give their views on what the big J means to them. Various talking heads offer the view that the tale of Christ was, in fact, based on earlier, pagan myths such as those of Mithra and Dionysus. Flemming, clearly working on a small budget, imaginatively uses stock footage and public domain film clips to get his point of view across and noted atheists such as Sam Harris and Richard Carrier are on hand to add their opinions.

    The 60 minute film ends with Flemming (a lapsed fundamentalist) confronting his old school principle on the nature of his faith-based high schools teaching methods.

    The God Who Wasn't There isn't likely to convert anyone who isn't already a disbeliever, but Flemmings personal, likeable style is very watchable, especially given the short running time. Flemming and his interviewees make some extremely potent points about why the Jesus story must, at the very least, be questioned for historical veracity and the film is pretty funny too (at least it is if you're already a hellbound heathen like myself, God botherers may be offended).

    Special note should be made of a fantastic score by DJ Madson, which is available - for free!!!  - from the films website.


  • The slow death of humankind.

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    Children of Men  (2006)

    Whether you buy its central premise or not, Alfonso Cuarons adaptation of PD James novel is, without doubt, one of the most technically startling pictures of the year. Even viewing it on a DVD screener copy, as I did, the films atmosphere of a world on the brink of total human extinction is both intoxicating and overwhelming.

    An excellent Clive Owen is Theo Faron, ex political activist and world-weary everyman in 2027 London, capitol of the last remaining outpost of civilization. For reasons unknown every single human woman on the planet has been infertile since 2009. As Faron himself so succinctly puts it "In fifty years it'll all be over". Children of Men's London makes that of the silly, but similarly totalitarian V for Vendetta look like a holiday camp. Or maybe it's the other way round, depending on how you feel about holiday camps. The government rounds up all foreigners and cages them before they are shipped to the Guatanamo-like Bexhill-on-Sea internment camp. Suicide kits are freely available, martial law reigns and political activists are, seemingly, framed for acts of terrorism in order to discredit them. Faron begins the film completely apolitical but quickly becomes a fugitive when he is charged with protecting, and hiding, a young black girl who is the worlds first pregnant mother in eighteen years.

    It's hard to describe the plot without giving away more than one would wish but there are also star turns by Julianne Moore as a member of the 'Fishes', who are determined to secure equal rights for the mass of immigrants entering Britain and Michael Caine as an old pothead who was once a political cartoonist in the Steve Bell mould.

    What Cuaron suceeds so brilliantly in doing with Children of Men is creating an utterly believable vision of the End of the World. Unlike most films, where it's all over in a flash, this is the slow death of humankind and it's truly nightmareish. It's interesting that we, as individuals, are essentially selfish creatures and yet if faced with the total extinction of our species it's easy to imagine this kind of resigned apathy taking place. With no generation to replace your own, whats the point in creating anything new? Art, technology, literature would all be a waste of time without anyone to pass them on to.

      The film never explains why this calamity has occurred. Indeed, it's unclear whether this is some Divine Retribution for humankinds evil ways or the result of some manmade catastrophe. As with much of the film, the beauty lies in the ability to read it in either a spiritual or purely secular way. Having said that, some of the religious allegory can get a bit much.  The morally ambiguous 'Fishes' employ the famous Ichthys logo as their symbol and ,at the risk of giving away a major plot point, the baby is born in a stable-like enviroment, complete with braying horse on the soundtrack and middle-eastern folk crossing themselves and bowing down to mankinds possible saviour.

    Yet Cuaron pulls the whole thing together brilliantly. Let's not forget this was the only man who has managed to make a truly entertaining Harry Potter movie, so he's clearly a cinematic miracle-worker himself. Much of the films backstory is told using snippets of dialogue, newspaper clippings and the ubiquitous plasma screens that cover every square inch of central London. Technically, as I stated earlier, the film is simply astouding. A first-act scene inside a moving car employs what appears to be a continuous camera shot from inside the vehicle whilst chaos ensues outside. You really have to see it to fully appreciate how mind-bending it is. The fact that Cuaron also throws a real shock into the scene, plotwise, means that if the movie hasn't hooked you already there's no way he won't have you now. It's a measure of how masterly this scene is that Spielberg did much the same thing, in a much showier way, during a relatively quiet moment in War of the Worlds but with far less impact but, one suspects, considerably more CGI.

      Then there's the, already celebrated, last-third tracking shot through a war-torn internment camp. Even now, 48 hours after seeing the film this scene is seared on my brain. I don't want this to turn into a 'Cuaron is better than Spielberg' rant but this sequence, while similar to shots in Saving Private Ryan is much more poweful than anything in that film, and it has one hell of an emotional payoff, too.

      But Children of Men is considerably more than the sum of its parts. I've seen some reviews from England (where the film is old news now, having been released back in October) claiming that this isn't an action movie, it isn't a sci-fi movie. Well, actually it's both and it seems totally unashamed to be a genre pic. It is sci-fi, and the most harrowing and convincing vision of the future since Blade Runner (and that's some accomplishemt). It is a thriller, and its thrills are terrifying (is there anything, in the annals of horror film history, more disturbing than an abandoned school?) It is an action flick, and it's the most exciting and hearstopping of the year, by a very large margin. But Children of Men is also a story about the very real world we live in now, what we are doing to ourselves and the way we might be heading. It's a warning, an extremely sobering one. For all it's bleakness, however, I believe the films real message is this: It's not too late for us to change things around, but it may be tomorrow.

     

     


  • Sympathy for Monster Vengeance

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    The Host  (2006)

    Korean cinema has been wowing us (well, some of us) for the past few years now. The advent of democracy and generous state handouts to aspiring young film makers have been major benefits for film fans across the globe.
    Whether it's the live-squid eating existentialist ultraviolence of Park Chan-wook or the wordless humanism of Kim Ki-duk South Korean cinema is presently the most dynamic and exciting in the world.
    And now, lumbering onto the screen like its titular star, comes Joon Ho-bong's The Host (Gwoemul), the most domestically successful film in South Korea's history.
    Getting straight to the point, The Host is an unashamed monster movie. A giant monster movie. From Asia. So, if you're thinking 'Godzilla' one could hardly blame you. In fact, Tokyo's favourite radioactive reptile is very much a precursor to The Host's mutated river beastie. Most of us, of a certain age, probably assume we saw the original Godzilla movie, Gojira(1954) on TV as kids. Chances are, however, unless you've sought out the recent, excellent, DVD collectors edition or grew up in Asia, you've not really seen it at all. The 1956 US re-edit loses much of the original political allegory due to missing scenes (replaced with Raymond Burr and assorted 'Yanks in White Coats') and inaccurate dubbing. Although this was partly done to tighten the film up a little for a western audience there must also have been the intent to hide some of the Japanese anger present in the film, aimed squarely at US atomic testing in the Pacific, not to mention the destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki less than a decade before.
    Like Gojira, The Host springboards from actual events, in this case the US dumping of formaldehyde into Korea's Han river several years ago. The enviromental effects were considerable and were still fresh in the public consiousness when the film was released last summer.
    Of course, in the film the formaldehyde mutates some river-life (a fish? Salamander??) into a large, pissed-off monster with a taste for human flesh. Joon wastes no time in introducing his beast, not for him the slow revelation via scenes of people being mysteriously dragged under water or overturned fishing boats. Ten minutes in and we've already had a long, hard look at his star. This could been disasterous if The Host didn't have so much more going for it. The effects work, by San Francisco-based The Orpanage (who worked on The Phantom Menace) and Peter Jackson's Weta Digital, are excellent and lend a real personality to the monster. However, the real soul of the film belongs to four members of a deeply dysfunctional family who only begin to operate on anything like a normal level when their youngest member (a little girl) gets eaten by the creature in the opening minutes.
    The father, played by Song Kang-ho (who seems to make a habit of losing his daughter in rivers, see also Sympathy for Mr Vengeance) is convinced the girl is still alive. Unfortunately the authorities, under the request of the US military have quarantined him, convinced the monster has infected him with a biohazardous virus. Escaping along with his father, his 'intellectual' younger brother and their bronze-medallist-winner-at-archery sister they head for the sewers of Seoul in an attempt to find the child before she either starves to death or ends up as dinner for the mutant fish-thing.

     To say anything more about the plot would be to give the game away. Enough to comment that Joon's mixture of sci-fi staples, high comedy and human pathos works even when it shouldn't. Much has been made of The Host's supposed anti-American sentiment and there's certainly some digs at US imperialism and the myth of WOMD, yet the Korean authorities don't come off much better. The police are portrayed as inhuman and uncaring and the government as unquestioning stooges to American superior knowhow. This could well be a satirical dig at South Korea's 'buffer-zone' status in the continuing US/North Korean cold war. In fact, 'Dearest Leader' Kim Jong-il (a known cinephile) is reported to be a big fan of The Host, extremely unsusual given the anti-south sentiment in his country. Whether he prefers it to, say, Team America: World Police however, we may never know.
    Despite all these poitical and social touchstones (which also include references to the SARS scare and governmental media manipulation) The Host never forgets to be, first and foremost, a big, fun, creature-feature. And it's a fantastic one at that. It's tense, it's scary, it's funny, moving and plays with your expectations from the opening minutes. It's also one of the absolute best films of the past year.


  • Here comes the Bride...

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    Kill Bill Vol. 1  (2003)

    Tarantino's fourth (and fifth) film as director see's him blatantly working through his cinematic obsessions in a whirlwind of bloodletting and wire-fu. Tarantino's movie mixes Japanese Yakuza, Samurai and Hong Kong martial arts genres together and even throws in a little Anime segment (By Tokyo's 'Production I.G.' studio) and somehow it just about holds together. There are some nice cameo's too, from Tarantino hero Sonny Chiba and Battle Royale minx Kuriyama Chiaki. Miike Takeshi favourite Kunimura Jun also has a small role too, winding up on the wrong end of Uma Thurman's 'Japanese Steel'. The film is full of cool, nerdy injokes for fans of this kind of stuff. It even opens with the old 'Made in Shawscope' logo that adorned Hong Kong's Shaw Brothers productions in the 70's. Somehow though, despite the fact the movie is terrific fun for fans of Eastern exploitation cinema and newbies alike, it leaves you feeling slightly unsatisfied. If you're a Tarantino fan you might find yourself wondering where all the witty dialogue is (That a good proportion of the movie is in Japanese won't help, either) with only the occasional trademark witty one-liner (Thurmans to young gangster wannabe while smacking his ass with sword "This is what you get for f**king around with Yakuza's Now go home to your Mommy!")although we're assured there's lots of it in volume two. Which brings us on to the other real problem. It's no secret that Kill Bill was originally a three hour movie that Miramax has sliced in half with their marketing katana. Unfortunately, this is exactly how it feels too. The movie just stops, albeit on a plot revelation, and up come the credits. Not quite the damp squib of Matrix Reloaded but perilously close. And whereas that film had far too much plot and not enough action, this seems to be the exact reverse. Even the dodgiest Shaw Bros. vehicle revealed more motivation for it's characters actions that Kill Bill does. Ultimately it's a film that cannot be judged until we've seen the complete thing. Unlike the Matrix or Lord Of The Rings trilogies Kill Bill was never meant to be sliced up this way and, despite it's being divided into chapters anyway, it doesn't seem to do the movie any favours. Personally I was always destined to enjoy this, it panders to some of the things I like most about cinema, and Tarantino clearly 'grew up' (Possibly the wrong words, come to think about it) on the same eastern grindhouse cinema I did myself. My advice then, rent out a couple of Fukusuku Kinji Yakuza movies, or Miike Takashi's Dead Or Alive films, or Shurayuki Hime (AKA Lady Snowblood) which this film borrows from most of all and have a marathon screening session with them and THEN see Kill Bill Part one. You'll enjoy it so much more once you know which films it's referencing, and you'll get to see some wonderful movies along the way.

  • Nakata's leaky roof has hidden depths.

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    Dark Water  (2002)

    'Dark Water'(Honogurai Mizu No Soko Kara) is Nakata Hideo's follow-up to his internationally acclaimed Ringu and Ringu 2. Yes, it's another horror movie and it's also based on a story by Suzuki Koji who wrote the Ringu cycle of novels. Both in style and theme Dark Water is remarkably similar to the previous movies. There's a little girl, her face obscured by long black hair, there's an obsession with water (In Ringu it was the ocean and, of course, the 'Well'. Here's it's leaking pipes and the mysterious Well-like water tower on the roof of heroine Hitomi Kuroki's apartment block.) Nakata also builds on the theme, present in Ringu (the movie but not the original novel) of a single mother determined to protect her child at all costs. In Ringu she was, ultimately, willing to sacrifice her own father. Here she's prepared to give up her sanity. The collapse of the nuclear family runs through all of these films but here it's given center stage and Nakata seems even more concerned with his theme than building up the atmosphere he did with the previous film. This is a character piece, it's more about terror than actually terrifying. Polanski's Repulsion comes to mind. This has the odd effect of making Dark Water strangely moving but not nearly as frightening as you know this director is capable of. The film gets it's tense, creep-out factor from seducing you into really caring about Yoshimi and her young daughter Ikuko (Another great Nakata-directed child performance from the cute Rio Kanno). The film also pilfers quite blatantly from Nicholas Roeg's Don't Look Now! with it's drowned Macintosh-clad ghost-child. Dark Water then, it's got nothing in it that'll mess with your nerves as much as that scene from Ringu but you'll never look at a leaky ceiling the same way and it's got the emotional resonance Nakata's earlier horror classic lacks.

  • A tale of ordinary madness.

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    American Splendor' is based on the autobiographical comics written by Harvey Pekar and illustrated by many celebrated 'underground' comics artists. Pekar's stories of everyday blue-collar life (Until his recent retirement he was a mailroom clerk in a hospital) have sat next to Batman and X-Men titles in Comic Shops for the best part of thirty years now. Pekar also found minor celebrity as an occasional guest on David Letterman's show until an infamous incident - dramatised in this film - where he let rip with a particularly pointed attack on NBC's connections with arms dealing and what he saw as his own exploitation by Letterman for comedy value. The film dramatises segments from Pekar's life, including a wonderful mid-sixties moment, when he meets a fellow Jazz enthusiast by the name of 'Bob' Crumb, along with scenes taken straight from the comic book itself. These are intercut with interview segments by the directors with Pekar, his wife and collaborator Joyce Brabner and workmates. Paul Giamatti, who plays Pekar in the dramatised scenes, is an extremely credible Pekar. although he's a bit chubbier and less abrasive than the real thing, the mannerisms and, crucially, the voice (Pekar himself narrates many of the scenes) are dead ringers for the man himself. A moment when the real Pekar and his mailroom colleague Toby Radloff (Who deserves a comic book, not to mention a movie all to himself) are chatting with the actors who portray them cracking up in the background is both disorientating and strangely moving. By it's very nature the film is a slow burner. Being an adaptation of a work about the minutae of everyday life, the mundane and the struggle to just get up each morning (Something Pekar claims was a particular effort for his wife) it isn't exactly filled with action. But 'American Splendor' is a delightful and touching tale of a man who's very ordinariness makes him a unique voice. Pekar comes across as a, slightly cleaner living, Bukowski. Or maybe Homer Simpson (There's an uncanny physical resemblance). 'American Splendor' itself is an accomplished piece of film making that isn't showy about it's complex intertextual structure. Plus it's refreshing to see that with the current boom in Comic book movie adaptations there seems to be room for some of the more 'obscure' titles out there to make it to the big screen. 'Love And Rockets' anyone? If you're a fan of Terry Zwigoff's films I guarantee you're going to love it!

 

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