Top films of 2012

The move to London precipitated an increase in my cinema-going during 2012.  Being a local of the charming Brixton Ritzy Picturehouse, I feel compelled to try and experience even more of the filmic output in 2013.  Omitted from this round-up are the re-releases I was fortunate enough to see over the year which included classics such as 'Eraserhead', 'Jaws', '2001', and 'The Shining'.

5.  'Led Zeppelin - Celebration Day' (Dir. Dick Carruthers)
Shouldn't really qualify, falling as it does in the ambiguous sub-genre of musical concert film, but regardless of this, it was one of the most enjoyable cinema experiences of the year.  Disorienting as it was watching such an exhilarating concert in a darkened cinema screening, the production and direction perfectly captured both the bombastic spectacle and the intricate nuances of the individual performances that are inevitably lost in so vast an arena as the O2.

4.  'Argo' (Dir. Ben Affleck)
With little-to-no pre-existing knowledge of the true life events regarding the mission to smuggle embassy hostages out of 1970's Iran, I found 'Argo' both a gripping and entertaining thriller.  Affleck has certainly demonstrated his worth as a director and his admirable fondness for 70s-era movies (think 'All the President's Men', 'Marathon Man', etc), mimicked here with the gritty tone and texture of the film stock, even going so far in its homaging intentions as adopting the out-dated Warner Brothers logo.  Whilst the film understandably spirals into a more generic Hollywood climax, it didn't devalue it's potential for suspense with a very well-handled final set piece.

3.  'Skyfall'. (Dir. Sam Mendes)
After the utterly forgettable 'Quantum of Solace', Daniel Craig's third outing as James Bond deserves all the hyperbole and accolades that have been accorded it.  Despite the hype, in my view it is far from perfect - the idea of it being qualitatively comparable to the 2 best Bond films 'Goldfinger' and
'You Only Live Twice' is disingenuous.  This modern humanistic Bond (in this ultra-personalised  society we even require our superspy's to be lumbered withs emotional foibles) is such a different 
animal from that of Connery or Moore that it is surely useless to try and compare them.  Reassuring 
though it is to see Bond achieve a Lazurus-style comeback in the era of Bourne and Batman, the 
producers face an undesirable task of maintaining the high before surely the inevitable plummet into 
the mire of 'Die Another Day' territory.

2.  'Take This Waltz' (Dir. Sarah Polley)
The purest cinema experiences are the ones you embark on with minimal expectations or awareness
of the presentation.  So it was with this charming and engrossing portrait of dramatic realism from
Sarah Polley, about a young married couple veering into the barriers upon the arrival to their
neighbourhood of an attractive and mysterious stranger.  On paper, the familiarity of the storyline is
undeniable, yet the intricacies of the script and a stunning performance from Michelle Williams, push this film onto a higher plateau with some genuinely affecting set pieces and a number of jolting plot
developments that brilliantly dislodge the film from any potential predictability.

1.  'Shame' (Dir. Steve McQueen)
Steve McQueen's second film from January was easily the most powerful new film I saw in 2012.  A harsh, uncompromising representation of sex addiction, it tackled the subject matter in a head-on and frank manner free from distraction or unnecessary stylisation.  Michael Fassbender gives an incredible performance - surely he must be close to being his generation's De Niro? - as the man teetering on the brink of self-control and collapse into despair, a situation mirrored by his emotionally fragile sister, played by the only slightly impressive Carey Mulligan.

'Shame' is the kind of film that makes me proud to be a cineaste; a reassurance as to the capacity of film - often existing in the overlooked slipstream of franchises and remakes - to possess the hard-edged grip and composure to succeed in challenging an audience.

Tearing the city at the seams #3 - My journey to work

Coming from Brixton on either the #159 or the #3, it takes the us around 45 minutes on a smooth-flowing morning to stagger its way through South London and onwards to Oxford Circus.  The way the double-deckers lumber and lurch along the streets brings to mind a basking shark around which shoals of cyclist minnows daringly swirl and dart.

Although habitually immersed in a book during the journey, without fail I will pause upon reaching Westminster Bridge to gulp down the still surreal sight of Big Ben, Parliament, London Eye and the grey-brown Thames that unequivocally ground you in the physicality of London and continue to defy any blur of blasé.  The global icons that embody London are largely here in this short sprint of the bus across the bridge and the immediate panorama open to the eyes.  The cultural tourism route doesn’t dry up prematurely though; for the bus bends its way up Whitehall, past Downing Street, around Trafalgar Square, across Piccadilly Circus and the final furlong of Regent Street.  In terms of world-renowned symbols of a particular locality, this route must surely rank pretty high amidst everyday commutes that people embark on all around the country.

Like a voyager from the mothership I spring forth towards the top of Regent Street, directly opposite the aircraft hangar that is Apple’s flagship emporium of gadgetry.  For a  company whose wares seem to be progressively concerned with the diminutive, it seems strange to me that they should require such a gargantuan warehouse in which to display them, aligned and mounted on their sparse plinths to be goggled at and fondled .  What seems equally strange is the routine sight of hordes of people eagerly waiting for the doors to this magical kingdom of apps and gizmos to be opened at the stroke of 9am.  The small army of sales staff are positioned in formation along the expansive floor and grand staircase of the shop, waiting for the rush and fondling frenzy to begin.

It all serves as apodictic, the deified status that Apple has in our society, the mythology that has sprung up regarding these palm-sized jujus of data that we covet.  If religion has been replaced by consumerism, then Apple is surely its high priesthood; so ingrained in the belief system of popular culture are its technological commandments.  For many it seems like a trip to this iVatican is like a kind of pilgrimage such is the symbiosis between the way one relates to their iPod, iPhone or iPad, and more out-dated spiritual codes and guidelines.

Further along I reach the intersection of Oxford Circus, where the manic consumerist river of Oxford Street splices its way across Central London.  As I cross over this junction an head upwards towards Portland Place, my attention is momentarily yet routinely caught by a small elderly man, of an uncertain ethnic persuasion (although I believe he may be Turkish or Eygptian), who stands around on the lip of the mouth where tube commuters are burped up from underground.  He holds a tatty laminate A4 sheet labelled 'INTERNET' in one hand, and holds out flyers - presumably for a nearbly web cafe - in the other.  I feel a sort of kind-hearted bemusement whenever I see this persistant yet quite obviously futile commercial venture; a lone vessel bobbing up and down amidst the raging waters of the titanic marketplace all around him.  I also feel a sense of hopeless endeavour considering the omnipotence of the internet nowadays, rather as though he were trying to flog items from his car boot outside Harrods.

Moving up towards Portland Place, one passes a smattering of generic outlets and franchises that homogenise the country, cut-and-pasted throughout every town centre shopping district.  A Caffe Nero, a McDonalds, a Garfunkels restaurant (a benile tourist feeding trough), a Pizza Express and a bland All Bar One (a car showroom of a place) with wine bottles stacked around the wall as though waiting to be dispatched from a warehouse.

At the apex point is the conical spike of All Saints Church that you move towards past all the tyrannical consumerist fluff as though it were the tip of the Enlightenment triangle, perfectly positioned to lure shoppers towards their dematerialising redemption.  A perception eroded somewhat as you curve around alongside the Langham Hotel to reveal the real source of enlightenment - the BBC Broadcasting House.  Its mock-radio aerial seeming to callously mimic the lesser point of All Saints before it.  Like the forces of Apple technology animating the aspirations of the many, it is the all-powerful presence of the broadcast media that has long usurped spirituality in the role of being the predominant beacon of our times. 

Sunk here in his canyon of commerce, purchase power and avarice, this modest church looks as redundant and forgotten as the small man peddling the internet to the tide of the connected, all of whom are already in compulsive servitude to his product.

Culture - November

Books Read:

Andrew Marr - 'The History of Modern Britain' (non-fiction)
William S. Burroughs - 'Interzone'
Ian Fleming - 'Casino Royale'
Friedrich Engels - 'The part played by labour in the transition from ape to man' (non-fiction)

Films Watched:

'The Shining' (Stanley Kubrick) (at BFI Southbank)
'Room 237: Being an inquiry into The Shining in 9 parts' (Rodney Ascher) (at Empire Leicester Square)
'Argo'  (Ben Affleck) (at Ritzy Picturehouse, Brixton)
'Twilight - Breaking Dawn (Part 2)' (at Ritzy Picturehouse, Brixton)

Albums Played:

Tricky - 'Maxinquaye'
Black Sabbath - 'Black Sabbath'
How To Destroy Angels - 'An Omen (EP)'
The Fall - 'Middle Class Revolt'
The Fall - 'The Marshall Suite'
Brian Eno - 'Lux'
Clinic - 'Free Reign'

Exhibitions:

'Henri Cartier-Bresson - A Question of Colour' (at Somerset House) (photography)

Gigs Attended:

The Walkmen - at HMV Forum, Kentish Town, London

Events:
'The Shining: Horror's greatest achievement?' (at BFI Southbank)
'Longford Lecture - Mind-bending behind bars' - Will Self (at Westminister Church Hall)