Transformers

Part 2 in my Shia LaBoeuf: the Scourge of Cinema double-bill sees him taking on giant, transforming robot aliens as he attempts to save the world using a weird little cube, and cop off with Megan Fox. I've got no historical connection to the Tranformers franchise, as I neither saw the cartoon series or the animated feature from the 80s, and I've never played with any of the toys as a child. So unlike many people, I feel that so far my childhood has been unmolested by Michael Bay, something I was afraid I'd no longer be spared from with his intentions to paint his own brand of ridiculousness onto the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, which I think now has been fortunately abandoned.

The Big Lebowski

I’ve made the point before that the list contains films of three varieties; great, popular and important. The greats arrive via the Empire 5-star 500 list, the popular from the two lists voted by the general public, and the important ones are provided by the 1001 Films to See Before You Die. Many films, though arguably important, aren’t actually very good, so one could argue that they should be remembered and acknowledged for their gifts to cinema, but not necessarily watched, as was the case with the Jazz Singer, marking the introduction of spoken dialogue to the big screen, which nowadays is dull, racist and features too many unnecessary songs. The Big Lebowski, on the other hand, is also an important film, spawning a cult following so vast there is a fan club (the Little Lebowski Urban Achievers), several books and an annual festival (creatively named Lebowski-Fest, I hope to attend one day). And yet, it does not appear among the important list, appearing here after being awarded a 5-star review and obtaining positions on both nominated lists. This is less a crime and more a cultural injustice, as the impact this film has had on society is measurable from space. Hell, they even played clips of it recently on Something for the Weekend.

So just what is it that resonates so much with the public? Maybe it’s the snappy, endlessly quotable dialogue ("Obviously you're not a golfer), particularly everything said in the bowling alley. Or perhaps it’s the borderline caricature roster of characters on display, from John Turtorro’s lilac-hued pederast Jesus (whom nobody fucks with) to Julianne Moore’s naked yet cultured Pollock-esque artist Maud and of course John Goodman’s psychotic ‘Nam vet Walter. It’s probably got something to do with the extremely crowded plot that bears little effect upon the characters it happens to. But mainly, it has to be Jeff Bridges turn as The Dude, a man shambling and smoking his way through life, following the flow it leads him on via nihilists, urinating Chinamen, porn moguls and private detectives. That, and it’s the first great film to feature a pot-smoking lead since Cheech and Chong, and one must conclude that many of those attending Lebowski-Fest, drinking white Russians in their dressing gowns and sunglasses have similar feeling towards the weed as his Dudeness.

Me? I love it because it’s a quintessential Coen Brothers movie. It features everything you need to make a great film – a twisting plot, stellar cast (I haven’t even mentioned Steve Buscemi, Peter Stormare, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Tara Reid, Sam Elliot, David Thewlis, Aimee Mann or the Red Hot Chilli Peppers’ Flea), terrific performances all round and a cracking soundtrack. The film introduced me to my cocktail of choice – Vodka, Kahlua and milk, easy on the Kahlua and heavy on the ice – and every time I watch it I either see something new or am reminded of a moment of pure gold I’d previously forgotten.

Choose film 9/10

Miller's Crossing

As I’ve previously mentioned in my post about the remake of True Grit, I’m a massive Coen brothers fan, so when my girlfriend selected Miller’s Crossing from the DVD stack to watch last week, I was overjoyed.

So, what’s the rumpus? Crossing depicts life in prohibition era America, following Tom (Gabriel Byrne), adviser to Albert Finney’s mob boss Leo, whose woman Tom happens to be sleeping with. The film features many outstanding performances, especially John Turturro as the excellently named crooked bookie Bernie Burnbaum, Jon Polito as rival mobster Caspar and Steve Buscemi as the weaselly Mink, cast purely for his ability to speak the dialogue faster than any of the other actors. The plot is typically dense, as Tom switches allegiances amid the ensuing power struggles, and you must pay attention if you want to follow the plot, so often are major events discussed bullet-fast.

The film’s standout scene has to be the Danny Boy sequence. Albert Finney has never topped a list of movie bad-asses, especially dressed in a red silk dressing gown, embroidered slippers and half-moon spectacles, but after seeing his thwart an attack on his life using only a liberated tommy gun, some unexpected acrobatics and a cigar he never stops chewing, you’ll think he could take out the Expendables single-handed.

The Coens are well known for playing with their audience, something they delight in here, with many conversations taking place, before panning round and revealing an unexpected listener, altering the entire dynamic of the scene, and hats are used more pivotally than possibly in any other film, giving away a person’s whereabouts, used as currency or symbolising a loss of dignity.

So that’s the rumpus, an excellent comedic gangster noir about friendship, character and ethics. And hats.

Choose film 8/10