SONG OF THE WEEK #134: EMA - "California"

EMA is going to release her third album in 2014, and fingers crossed it will be as good as the tortured, gloriously messed-up Past Life Martyred Saints (2011). Three years on, "California" still hits me where it should.

Film review: THE WOLF OF WALL STREET

Directed by Martin Scorsese

7/10

Martin Scorsese can do whatever he wants these days, but let’s consider this: the man hasn’t made a truly great (no-questions-asked great) film since The Aviator. And that was in 2004. It’s all part of an ongoing, dangerously soulless phase: Shutter Island was Scorsese getting technical about Dennis Lehane’s novel, Hugo was Scorsese getting technical about 3D, and The Wolf Of Wall Street is Scorsese getting technical about entertainment. If anything – he’s good at all those things.

It’s just that inside there is void.

The man knows how to entertain, and in that respect The Wolf Of Wall Street is value for money . After the slick and dreary Hugo, we get this welcome adrenaline rush of clever bullshit. The box office is incredible, the cinemas are overcrowded, the critics are happy or at the very least hilariously outraged, and in the course of three whopping hours Scorsese never lets go for one second. Golden Globe saw it as a comedy movie, which almost makes sense. It’s not so much funny (unless you will laugh at the scene where DiCaprio snorts cocaine out of a hooker’s butthole) as great fun.

Overall, The Wolf Of Wall Street is a rather banal proposition: Martin Scorsese making a big movie about money (all based on Jordan Belfort’s equally opulent memoir), swindles and corruption, drugs and extravagance, with Leonardo DiCaprio in the main role. I don’t even know how I feel about seeing DiCaprio in yet another Scorsese film. Don’t get me wrong though. If someone somewhere still thinks DiCaprio isn’t a great actor, I’ll be the first in line to protest. He is a terrific actor, and he is terrific in this film (actually a ‘movie’; this is where Aldous Huxley’s talkie-feelie-movie snobbery should be dropped). I just think Scorsese should stop casting him with such a blinding, unimaginative consistency. It’s getting formulaic.

DiCaprio is the main guy: the Wall Street wolf who is actually a little too likable for someone of that sort. Then there’s Matthew McConaughey (who is always good) as the mentor, there’s Jonah Hill (whose role is mostly reduced to getting stoned and pissed) as the friend and there’s Margot Robbie (obscenely seductive, of course) as the girl. The acting is impeccable, you definitely can’t fault that. Nor can you fault the brilliant scene where DiCaprio’s character has to crawl after a particularly bad overdose. Nor any other scene for that matter. The drugs are used, the money is swindled, the girls are shagged – what’s not to like. Well, maybe the fact that it gets a little too repetitive after a while? Or the fact that it feels oh so derivative and secondary for a director with that filmography? That Scorsese doesn’t have anything to say – past what he said so effectively back in 1990? 

The bottom line then. Immoral, profane, vulgar – but in a rather intelligent way. For all its flatulent and fatuous self-indulgence ,  it’s actually a masterful work. A pale shadow of Goodfellas – granted. Bloated and empty. All the same – The Wolf Of Wall Street is as close as you can get to wasting three hours on something that is actually really bloody good. After all (if you don’t mind a little blasphemy), wasn’t Citizen Kane that too? Bloated and completely empty?.. 

Film review: JEUNE & JOLIE

Directed by Francois Ozon

6/10

Like almost any other French film, Jeune & Jolie is very French. This time it’s Francois Ozon telling a story of a pretty 17-year-old girl who becomes aware of her sexuality and starts working as a prostitute. You will see Paris, you will hear Francoise Hardy playing in the backround, and you will wonder whether this is crude or romantic.

Ozon’s previous film, In The House, was brilliant. Whatever was provocative about it remained more or less understated, and you had an intriguing, cleverly scripted story to follow. This time, though, the plot seems weak, and regrettably Ozon seems content with it.

The film looks gorgeous and those who are in it look gorgeous too. The girl is indeed jolie, and when you witness the miserable perverts abusing and insulting her – the desired effect is certainly reached. It’s not pretty. However, there’s one who treats her like a gentleman (yes, I know how it sounds), and naturally he’s the only one she comes back to again and again..

It’s a well-executed film, and there’s enough thought-provoking stuff you can get out of it. The problem is, the story lacks depth and seems too contrived to be in any way emotional. And it all comes to a particularly far-fetched ending that tells us what sort of fanciful ideas Ozon is having these days. I’m not getting into details, but let’s just say it’s interesting, and if you buy it – well, there's definitely some of that French blood in you.

Film review: BEFORE MIDNIGHT

Directed by Richard Linklater

9/10

This of course should start with a tribute to Philip Seymour Hoffman who died yesterday of drug overdose. A death so uncalled for you will yet again be reminded of Heath Ledger. A death so indiscriminate you won’t care whether it was cocaine or sleeping pills. A death so untimely you would think 46 was 27. Never less than great, Hoffman routinely reached the kind of awe-inspiring brilliance (The Master, Capote, Synecdoche, New York, Doubt…) that made it look like others were trying too hard. In a world deadened by daily news, this was truly shocking.

Before Sunrise, Before Sunset, Before Midnight. It’s a little frustrating that I haven’t really lived with these films. They haven’t sprung up at various points in my life to give an exciting angle and a different perspective. They haven’t been this little parallel universe that I grudgingly put on hold for another nine years (1995, 2004, 2013).  I just watched them all over the course of one short month. Can I comment?

But I will. These films are doll-house perfect. Not in the sense that they are better than others you love or admire; in a way, there’s no competition. These three films exist in their own ideal, romantic, well-honed world. They don’t need to compete. They don’t need your Oscars or Baftas or what have you. They are self-sufficient. They are perfect. So perfect in fact that I have only seen each of them once. This probably won’t change.

The films star Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy whom we find at different points in their lives. In Before Sunrise we saw them fling. In Before Sunset we saw them flirt. And in Before Midnight we see them… well, fight basically. They are on holiday in Greece, both pushing forty, things have changed, and as ever you can’t look away. Before Midnight is minimalist, very wordy and full of long takes that seem so natural you don’t notice it is actually a movie. Perhaps the only deviation is the inclusion of a lengthy dinner scene that has several people having a rather fascinating conversation. Otherwise it’s the same old thing: Jesse and Celine talking.  

The dialogues (co-written/semi-improvised by Hawke and Delpy) are magnetic, electrifying, totally engaging. They make you care. Beautifully acted and cleverly conceived, these films remain elegant little poems full of romance, understatement and real-life drama. Apparently there are people who find the whole thing tedious and annoying, but hopefully it’s not us.

I’m putting this on hold now, for Before Dusk (Dawn?) to quietly resurface in 2022 (bloody hell) and let us peek through another doll-house window. Very briefly, but that I guess is part of the attraction.

SONG OF THE WEEK #133: The Jam - "Going Underground"

Their studio albums from 1978 onwards were consistently good (if ever lacking that extra dimension which would make them certified classics), but The Jam were mostly a singles band. "Going Underground" (from 1980) is case in point; as good a song as you will ever hear.