High-Rise (2015) - an introduction

I never thought I’d make the choice to conduct an amateur sociological study when I woke up this morning, but here we are. I’ve decided to write this “thesis” of sorts first, just in case actually watching the film in question somehow alters my mental history on the matter. My cyclothymia also tends to play tricks on me, so I’m not always sure what has and hasn’t happened. And, yes, that has caused me a lot of personal problems over the years.

Anyway…

I left modern social media some years ago, after being cruelly bullied off. The reasons they had for their behaviour were petty, reactionary, and selfish. I generally consider myself to be a nice person, so why were people treating me so horribly?! The event was something that has left me more isolated than I ever have been. It was then that I realised that something in the world had changed. In particular, something about the “social landscape” of the internet.

And not in a good way.

After the initial shock of what happened, and my resulting attempts to adjust without an outlet I had relied on for so long, I started to wonder what was at the core of the change to social media. I knew something was different, sure, but what?! Then it dawned on me: the people had changed.

Social media was initially developed, in the late 1990s, by shy, awkward, lonely nerds, just wanting to talk to like-minded, discerning souls and find a refuge away from the people out there, in the real world, who had dominated, bullied, and rejected them for so many millennia. These nerds had finally found a way to make true friends and maybe find love. For the first ten or fifteen years, social media was an oasis of calm, a golden age, then three technologically-positive things happened, but they had a negative effect on the lives of pale shut-ins everywhere.

These three things were:

• More easily accessible and faster internet connections
• The introduction of the smartphone, providing even more convenient access
• Monetisation, which offered untold riches to the most loudest, arrogant, popular person out there

Then, to paraphrase Star Wars, came the dark times.

Almost overnight, social media was swamped by all the people that we, the genuine nerd population, were trying to escape from. No longer were we free to share our thoughts, feelings, and satirical humour, without being bullied by hostile business managers, sat in traffic jams after spending the day subjugating their poorly-paid lessers. The water of joyful geekdom had been severely diluted by attention seekers, hipsters, arrogant parents, armchair politicians of all persuasions and, worst of all, what has come to be known as the “social media influencer”. This new wave of internet user had no desire to be sociable either. They already had friends and partners out in the real world, so woe betide you for daring to try reaching out to them. You will either be ignored or lashed out at.

This is no longer social media or social networking, it is the human showroom.

The dream we, the shy, awkward, lonely nerds of the late-1990s and early-2000s, had tried to make come true, finally died. There was nowhere to go, except outside. You see, people would never treat you in public the way they do on the internet. It’s safe outside now, because all the bullies are on social media, screaming and shouting at each other and begging for likes and subscribes and shares and donations and whatever else.

So, what on Earth has all this got to do with High-Rise, you ask? Well, it’s a significant film for me, because it was the first time that I noticed something had changed. I didn’t know what had changed back then, or how it would affect my life, but the pre-release hype surrounding this 2015 science fiction thriller (I assume it is, I’ve not actually seen it yet) was an early warning sign of the dark times to come.

You see, I’ve always been a movie geek. As a teenager, I used to buy up as many movie compendiums in print as I could, and watched every type of movie available. While I find the ambitious visuals of science fiction and fantasy to be my favourite, my heart has always been open. And that’s still the case. I’ll watch a dumb action movie in the morning, then a silent film from the 1920s in the afternoon, then an animated family-friendly romp in the evening. I even attended a film studies class for a couple of years, before my mental illness and visual impairment finally got the better of me. In short, I feel like I’ve earned the right to have an opinion about motion pictures. I’ve really tried to understand and appreciate the art form and, most importantly, to be able to predict whether a new release is going to be good or bad or just plain mediocre.

And here’s where High-Rise comes in.

For reasons that I could not understand at the time, High-Rise was getting an incredible amount of pre-release hype. Friends on social media, both close and casual, were getting excited; YouTubers I watched were getting excited; bloggers were getting excited; professional film reviewers were getting excited. Everyone… but me. Companies that made nerd-related clothing were even selling t-shirts and baseball caps heralding the arrival of High-Rise, our apparent saviour.

But why?! This is what I simply could not fathom.

I looked at the film’s cast and crew list, as I am now, and saw some very creative, successful, and capable people, but that still didn’t answer my question. Even the plot sounded too vague to get excited about. Then I realised: there was no reason why people were getting excited. The issue was a circular one: people were getting excited because people were getting excited. It’s like when there’s mass outrage these days over a war in a country that people have neither heard of or even know the location of, but they’ve got a “DONATE TO THE WAR RELIEF EFFORT!” on their website or channel or feed. Social media is now flooded with people who have no idea what’s really going on or how to feel and think for themselves. There’s a shiny thing on their smartphone screen, so they click on it and giggle. Bless ‘em. I mean, why would “Steve” next door, a guy who gets stoned and dances to rave music at 2 am in the garden with his dog, possibly know what a good or bad film is?! The truth is, he doesn’t know, but people will trust his opinion, because they don’t see how much of a dimwit he really is.

They also don’t see the dog-dancing.

People on social media are also afraid. Terribly afraid. And they have every reason to be. The same thing that happened to me could happen to them at any moment. Social media is watching, and it does not give you second chances anymore. People wilfully allow, through social media, bullies into their homes nowadays. And it is very difficult to get them out again.

Back in the early years of social media, discerning nerds would not have stood for such nonsensical hype over such a low-hanging b-movie. In fact, they would have just smiled wryly and waited for the inevitable implosion. And that’s exactly what happened: nothing. In fact, after a while, I began to notice that nobody was talking about High-Rise anymore, which seemed odd. I was all like: “Hey, I wonder what happened to that film everyone was getting so excited about. Is it out yet?!”. The sad truth being, not only had it come out, but it had vanished without a trace, receiving overwhelmingly negative reviews and becoming a huge flop.

Yes, my wry smile was rather large and smug.

Then, much like the hype itself, I forgot all about it. Along comes this morning (evening really, as my insomnia has turned my bedtime into 8 am this week), and I thought: “Hey, Jim, why don’t you buy that High-Rise film and see what all the fuss was, or wasn’t, about?!”.

Cut to me typing this.

I know a lot of my above personal ranting may seem rather, erm, awkward, but I do feel like the two issues are linked. Neither has anything directly to do with the other, but it’s the events surrounding them that are and, to me, very significant. So I’ve just ordered the High-Rise Blu-ray, which should give me time to calm down and enjoy a few palate cleansers before watching the film with a clear head.

We shall see…

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

UPDATE: The full review is now up and can be found in my subsequent post here!

Friday the 13th Part 3D (1982) - film review

Okay, I added the “D”, but the studio should have done too. This new Blu-ray release allows you to also watch the film in 2D, so I stuck with that. I assume that attempting to watch a 3D film on a 2D television would bring about the end of the universe, so I wanted to be cautious.

Ah 3D, the gimmick that refuses to stay dead, much like Jason. When will they learn?! Never, I suppose. It’s the genocidal dictator of cinema - human beings will forever keep saying: “Right, this one’s the last one… no more!”.

Until the next one.

I must say, my viewing of this series is now starting to feel like a chore. And I’m not even halfway through. At least this third instalment of the little-respected Friday the 13th franchise has a bit more visual class. While it helps that it’s the first instalment presented in the 2.35:1 aspect ratio, the 3D illusion elements give a sense of forced perspective, even though that’s not what it’s really being used for. Well, I’m calling it “forced perspective”, but I can’t find the actual term. Basically, the film’s close-up and background elements are sometimes both in focus, which is perhaps my most favourite of all visual techniques in cinema. It simply doesn’t get used enough. It usually requires a great deal of lighting or, as in one particular shot in All the President’s Men, a cheeky split-screen cheat.

Golly, I’m only 17 minutes in and I’ve already written this much. Perhaps I shouldn’t be focussing on two things at once.

See what I did there? Ha!

Anyway, if you can believe it, Part 3 has even less plot than the first two. I’m not usually inclined to type out plot summaries, as you can all look them up for yourselves quite easily, but this won’t take long: a group of interchangeable young people stay at a summer camp and get murdered one at a time until one woman remains. Sounds like the first two, huh? Well, you’re right! Everything here is in service of the 3D gimmick. There is no time for plot. If this was a better film, I could say that the rambling pace of the thing has an “Altman-esque” quality to it, but I shan’t. It’s more like a mid-week episode of a soap opera. You know, when there’s no weekend cliffhanger or the payoff to one.

It’s just… so… fucking… boring.

At least the drab late-70s fashions have finally gone, which is certainly something to celebrate.

The acting is at an all time low, I’m afraid, with many genuinely laugh-out-loud moments of awkward dialogue. One actress, I couldn’t tell you her or her character’s name, gets an emotional monologue at one point, which descends into amusing camp. It’s definitely a highlight. What makes things worse, is that this one feels a little shy in terms of nudity, although you do get a few attractive men taking their shirts off. As a bisexual, I didn’t have a problem with this, although at one point I nearly found myself crying: “Somebody just get their boobs out!”. But I didn’t.

What would the neighbours say?!

Oh, we finally get the appearance of Jason’s iconic hockey mask in this one, but since it has no significant impact on the story or quality of the final product, I shall stubbornly refuse to mention it.

Whoops.

In terms of kills, there are far too many fake-outs before actual murders. This starts to work against the film after a while, as I found myself becoming disorientated, forgetting who had really been killed and when. Still, some of the actual murders are fun, even though the 3D gimmick elements are eye-rolling. Literally, at one point. When it’s used randomly, just for fun, it feels like the film is treating you like a pet, playfully trying to amuse you by dangling a piece of string. Probably because it is.

Not a great way to treat an audience.

Perhaps if someone was to make a fan edit, tightening up the awkward editing around the 3D moments, those moments might feel less irritating. Maybe someone already has. Do let me know.

A positive way to consider Friday the 13th Part 3 would be that it presents a slice of pure cinema. It does not exist to service story, dialogue, characters, or acting. Only its visual style and set pieces. Its filmmakers are simply trying something out. I guess you could argue that they succeeded, even if it’s all at the expense of the audience’s enjoyment. But at least they tried. So, in that respect, one could possibly go so far as to call it a significant work of art, which I think is fair.

It’s still fucking boring though.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

The Whittling Post Digest - Issue 1

It’s back! Yes, the inane wittering of yours truly, only in text form. I’ve lost a lot of confidence over the last two years, due to personal tragedy, so I’m finding it difficult to communicate vocally at the moment. Still, my fingers are as lucid as ever, so I thought I’d regularly jot down here some of the cultural stuff I don’t feel moved to write more complex reviews about. It’s also a chance to give first impressions of things that, knowing my changeable mental state, I’ll probably not complete anyway. So, basically, there’ll be a lot of “Well, this TV series at least starts off well…”.

Quality all the way, folks!

I’ve called this “Issue 1” as, let’s face it, it’s been seven years since the 27th and last episode of the podcast version, which nobody ever listened to anyway. So let’s start afresh! I gave the podcast a good shot though, so it’s not like a rage-quit after two episodes.

So, without further ado, let us indeed whittle!

SOBS

I’ve gotten into East Asian indie bands in recent years, finding some life-changing artists from countries such as China, South Korea, and Japan. I’ve had a dry spell with them over the past quarter or so but, as always, I think I have eventually made my way back. Sobs is from Singapore, I believe, and the band produces some fantastically upbeat indie-pop. I don’t think, in their two albums so far, there’s been a single song in a minor key. I need this at the moment. Being a lifelong fan of dour stuff, I’m finally in a place where I need an emotional energy boost. Anyway, I initially thought, for some strange reason, that Sobs were a two-member DIY “bedroom band”, but it terms out that they are six of the fuckers. And they tour. I get very odd notions sometimes. The singer has an adorable lisp, as if she’s wearing braces, which gives their music a cute edge. I don’t know whether she adopts the lisp just as an affectation for work, but it does it for me. Their last album was a couple of years ago, so I’m hoping some new stuff is along the way. I recommend “Vacation”, “Eastbound”, and “Friday Night”, for anyone curious.

MONTY PYTHON’S FLYING CIRCUS

I’m definitely more familiar with the Monty Python films than the TV series, although I’m sure I would have caught some of it when I was a kid. Because of this unfamiliarity, I thought it was time to bite the parrot and dive into the boxset. This is not a difficult task, as it’s all so much fun. Counterculture in the 1960s was never so easily digestible. The Python’s are essentially mocking the innate seriousness of society, but without being mean-spirited about it. I suppose nowadays you’d get sociopathic frat-boys doing this sort of thing, only with none of the subtlety or intelligence. I guess wanking off a horse is funny to somebody though. Sigh. So, yes, I’m not very far into this set as yet, but I’m recognising plenty of their classic sketches already. The menus on the DVD are rather hard for me to navigate, but that may be to do with my forever-deteriorating eye condition. They just seem unnecessarily complex and stylised. There’s also no “play all” function, which is the greatest sin a TV series boxset can commit.

THE PYTHON YEARS

Ha! Speaking of Monty Python, I thought I’d look into whether there was a making-of in audiobook form somewhere, to listen to as a companion piece. It turns out Michael Palin has published his diaries from the era, and what’s more… I already own them! Yes, I am apparently that dumb and forgetful. So, yes, lying in bed last night with Palin whispering into my ears made for a very nice treat indeed. I could have met him about ten years ago actually, when he did a brief lecture in Sheffield about one his new books, but I got too nervous about going up to him. Knowing me, I’d have dwelt heavily upon the moment for the rest of the life, letting my own anxiety ruin everything Monty Python had ever done. My brain’s like that, you see. It likes to attack me. Anyway, so far, the set of diaries are an interesting look into life in the 60s, plus it’s cool being privy to casual interactions with such great talents off-camera. Getting to hear about Palin having a picnic with Terry Gilliam, one of my favourite film directors, is just delightful. Isn’t that every nerd’s fantasy? Just say “yes”, so I don’t feel so creepy. I thank you.

ASH VS. EVIL DEAD

I’ve been trying to get through this series since it first came out, but I’m finally getting there. I guess I just kind of don’t want it to end, so I’m savouring it like a fine wine. I’m glad they only made three seasons though, as TV shows usually run out of steam around that point. Still, it’s the perfect continuation of the fun side of Evil Dead. I don’t think many people count the original film, a bit like the first series of Blackadder, as it is very dour. In fact, it plays out more like a tragic drama about a guy who’s friends succumb to mental illness. Anyway, Evil Dead 2 and Army of Darkness are classics, and Ash vs Evil Dead fits right in there. There’s been a couple of dull episodes, which usually involve characters running around a dark building for the duration, but every TV series has a “bottle episode”, the qualities of which vary wildly. I also jumped for joy, probably quite literally, when Lucy Lawless first appeared on screen. Is she immortal or something? Girl doesn’t seem to be aging. I’m guessing she doesn’t smoke or drink or has never been a head of state. Well, I’ve just started Season 3 and the going is still good, although some of the comedy schtick seems to be getting a little tired. We shall see…

Well, that’s all for now, folks. I hope posting these digests inspires me to get more hobby stuff done, as I’ve become more nihilistic and low-energy than usual lately. I need stuff to pull me out of my funk, so recommendations are welcome!

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Friday the 13th Part 2 (1981) - film review

Welcome back, hapless campers! Hmm, I bet nobody’s ever made that joke before. Anyway, yes, I’m still doing this, much to my own befuddlement. It seems I have essentially committed to watching the same film eight times, for which I should probably go back on brain medication for. Still, I’m enjoying myself so far, with this second part of the Friday the 13 series being a slight step up from the first.

I think the fact that this one’s director, industry workhorse Steve Miner, is in charge. He seemed to be somewhat awake for most of the shooting. Saying that, there is a significant drop in energy around the halfway mark, where I’m guessing the crew started to get tired or drunk or both. Bless. Still, I was impressed with the way Miner’s camera would follow characters around in close-quarters, reminding me somewhat of John McTiernan’s style.

The film opens with a rather pointless showreel of events form the first film, which turns out to be redundant, given that later in the film we get a recap in the form of an effective camp fire story. So, basically, you can go ahead and skip a chapter to when the opening titles roll. There is a cute cat in that pre-credits sequence though, so that might be worth it. You know, for any fellow cat-lovers out there.

Gee, I’m scraping the barrel already.

But, yes, we pretty much get the same plot as the first film: a bunch of hormonal twentysomethings-playing-teenage camp counsellors get dispatched one-by-one by a generally-unseen assailant. This time, however, the counsellors are clad in comically tight and revealing uniforms, which I doubt the parents of the vacationing kids, should they ever actually turn up, would not approve of. We don’t have a summer camp culture in the UK, so all this provides a sort of anthropological interest for me. I guess we did have cheesy whole-family holiday camps for decades, but that’s now been replaced by oversees all-inclusive holiday forts, where the “dirty locals” are safely kept away.

I’m so proud of my country.

Sigh.

There are some better actors in Part 2, which really helps. It meant I actually cared, however vaguely, for these characters. You don’t realise how important that is until you don’t care. The lead, if you can call her that, played by spunky Amy Steel, you could at least tell apart form the other actors. Her natural charisma is sometimes let down by her wooden line delivery, but at least I was routing for her blonde sass. I said sass. She even has a nice scene where she tries to rationalise crimes of passion and diminished responsibility, which is refreshing in our terrifying modern culture of conservative outrage. She also uses her smarts at the end, before doing some stabbing, of course.

The end confused me a little, which I assume confuses everybody. They clearly had the footage for something more coherent, so why they didn’t use it, I cannot say. Oh well, they were so close.

The kills in this instalment are based more around the overall set-piece, rather than chucking blood everywhere. I can’t help but respect that. Think Brian De Palma, basically. Still, I do like a bit of splatter, when it’s done right. There were even a couple of moments that made me jump, unlike the last film. Perhaps that was due to me sobering up from a few days of drinking, so my fragile mind is closer to frightening-reality.

Some of the sexuality in the film is unintentionally amusing, especially the baffling decision by one character to go skinny-dipping alone at night. Don’t do that, people. Regardless of its absurdity, I found myself appropriately titillated, even though such scenes usually bore me. So they got one other thing right.

Well, I think that’s about it, folks. Surprisingly, I don’t have a great deal to say about a film that doesn’t have much to be say about. The quality is solid so far, but I fear the true schlock is creeping closer. I guess I’ll find out soon enough.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Friday the 13th (1980) - film review

Also known as the film that failed to launch Kevin Bacon’s career. In fact, you probably wouldn’t even notice he was there if you weren’t looking for him. He does get a couple of scenes to dimly-shine before being dispatched by the film’s killer, but I’m sure he even forgets he was in this.

So, yeah, I’ve decided to make my grand return to posting on this blog, rather randomly, with this film series. I don’t have much of an interest in horror movies, as even hardcore horror buffs can’t seem to sell most of them. I appreciate the cream of the crop (The Shining, Don’t Look Now, Halloween etc.), but a genre where the selling point is a few minutes of gore really isn’t for me. I don’t look down on it, it’s just not my cup of tea.

Okay, maybe I look down on it a little.

I had quite a stressful week last week, resulting in a five-day drinking binge, but I’m slowly resurfacing now and keen to get typing. You don’t get a great deal of work done when you’re a depressed, unsociable, alcoholic shut-in. Or at least I don’t. I’m not a particularly high-functioning drinker, as you may very well learn.

Anyway, back to this masterpiece.

I’ve been meaning to watch this series for a while now, as I’d heard it was reasonably fun and mildly diverting. So, yeah, my expectations were really high.

A nice Blu-ray set seems to have finally been released recently, which is always a surprise, what with the UK’s miserable hardcopy distribution industry. Things were better in the days of VHS, I must say. Some of the instalments share a disc, which either implies their low transfer quality, or the distributor’s lack of respect for them. It was probably a space issue, to be honest, as they all fit into a nice slim case (usually reserved for one disc).

I have no idea why I’m talking about this. It’s probably the DTs scrambling my brain.

This first instalment was charmingly low-budget, although competently shot, edited, and scored. The fashions of the era are appropriately awful, although not as horrid as those in the same year’s The Shining. The plucky b-list cast do the best they can with a pretty slender screenplay, but the lack of characterisation and story had a knock-on effect on my caring when a character fell victim to the film’s killer. In that I didn’t care. In fact, I was usually drifting off when the music interrupted my train of thought to tell me something exciting was happening.

Saying that, you do get a great deal of ping for your pound, with multiple death sequences peppered throughout. It certainly helps that they were orchestrated by industry legend Tom Savini, who knows how to entertain a bloodthirsty audience.

I really enjoyed the climactic catfight, which I’m sure was very unique back in 1980. The actor playing the killer hams it up not inappropriately. They seem to know what they’ve gotten themselves into, so they get an extra mark for at least giving us some excitement.

I’ve heard the series is very loose, with the quality control being all over the place, so I’ll dip in and out whenever I feel so inclined. I do believe, however, that there is a long road to hoe.

Still, this was a fine film to chill-out to whilst coming down from a week of debauchery.

That’s 1 out of goodness-knows-how-many I approve of.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Coming soon...

After whinging a great deal on an uneventful diary-style blog for years, I have decided to concentrate my thoughts, more productively, on movies, music, books, history, and random pop culture b.s.

This is my real passion.

This is what makes me tick.

Be prepared, world!

I am coming.

All over your internet’s lower back.

But, don’t worry, I won’t be begging for likes and subscriptions and donations and whatever. I’m a classic DIY internet user. This is me. That is you. Let us never the twain meet.

RADIO SILENCE

Just to let y'all know, while I am not posting here at the moment (and having shut down all my social media accounts), I am updating my personal blog, The Salad of Convenience, fairly regularly. The posts in TSoC also include small cultural reviews woven into my daily goings on.

Do check it out here: https://thesaladofconvenience.blogspot.com/

I hope all is well with you fine folk.

Do stay in touch!