Peter Jackson has recently shown some footage of The Hobbit that has created a rather large fuss, and not necessarily in a good way. Ten minutes of footage revealed Jackson's use of a rather divisive breakthrough (more like breakdown, according to some) technology: The film is being shot at 48 frames per second, rather than the standard 24 fps. That may sound like gobbledegook, but it's actually quite easy to picture. You know that cheap-looking sharpness on some TV shows (it is sometimes referred to as the "Soap Opera effect"), where you actually feel that you are in the same room as the characters, usually saturated in blink-inducing colour? Well it looks like that. You can imagine it, can't you?

The difference is obviously quite alarming, judging by the reactions it provoked from the attendant media, with some declaring outright that "it didn't look particularly good" while others were content to hedge their bets slightly with pronouncements that judging it from the 10 minutes shown wasn't really "the right representative look at it" - more needs to be seen before the nay or the yea is fixed upon. 

I am a little wary of it myself. Obviously I haven't seen it yet, not being lucky enough to be at the Las Vegas Comic Con, but the descriptions seem to be that it's quite an intrusive and shocking effect. I love the trilogy so much, for its beauty, escapism and grandeur as much as anything else, and it seems as though this 'realistic' look will almost certainly detract from that. You may hold the example of 3D up as a template for new technologies, but I think you would be making a tiny mistake: 3D is far from accepted as successful, especially by little old me. However, I have faith in Peter Jackson. I have faith that he knows what he is doing and that his vision for Thorin, Bilbo and Smaug will be nothing short of his usual excellence.

Joss is boss

Vindication for Joss Whedon. His new Avengers is making super-powered waves in the UK film media, with plenty of 4 and 5 star reviews to its name.

Whedon is nowhere near as prolific as he should be. Held in high favour by the cultish few for the ridiculously excellent Buffy, Firefly and Serenity. As one of the wittiest writers around, not to mention one of the most vocal and loveable feminists in Hollywood, he is very high on my 'fantasy dinner party wish-list'. Can't wait to see a comic book movie that has plenty on offer for the head and the heart.

A super genre

The wonderful Tom Hiddleston has recently written an apology, a defence, for the (currently ubiquitous) superhero genre. As a film fan, I have had to defend any number of excellent comic book and superhero films from the dismissive snobbery with which they are often greeted. They are judged as silly, pointless and without meaningful parallels to real life. Can I, I am asked, in all good conscience, say that Batman Begins or The Dark Knight are as good as The Godfather? Yes, I believe I can.

Genre shouldn't be important when judging a film's worth. If superhero movies are treated with disdain, surely that means that animation should be even further down the list: goodbye Studio Ghibli and the genius of Hayao Miyazaki, goodbye Up and the Toy Story trilogy. It's a very childish and narrow minded stance to take, especially when the themes and dramatic tropes of the genre are even more far-reaching than films that subscribe to the realism some critics find so important. Due to the scale of some of the superhero films, Thor, for example, these movies often encompass a huge variety of human emotion and circumstance purely because they depict grand, extreme conditions and occurrences. As Tom points out, Shakespeare wasn't exactly known for his quiet, banal observations of the human condition; he wrote genuine pot-boilers, soaked in blood and murder and sex, yet he is still held to be the paragon of literary genius.

If you enjoy it and it fulfils its brief, then it is a good film. Surely it should be as simple as that?

The Artist

 Saw The Artist last night: the much-worshipped, apparently Oscar-worthy, film that follows the rise and fall of fictional silent film star George Valentin in 20s Hollywoodland. It’s a beautiful film, a lovely, stylish, gently humorous look at a glamorous past world. The stars are wonderful. Bérénice Bejo as new-fangled talkies’ cheeky darling Peppy Miller is endearing and Jean Dujardin as the suave Valentin is equally engaging. Really, it’s a lovely film. I just can’t quite understand the excitement and excessive use of superlatives it has engendered in everyone. 10 Oscar noms for a film without a script? There is too much missing for this to be an outstanding film. No nuance except that held in an actor’s expression, which, granted, can sometimes be amazing in itself, but to run the whole hour and a half with nothing more than a fixed two or three characters' smiles, gurns and grins really is a little much. The references to “mugging”, vilified by the new wave of talkies cinema, have an unavoidable truth to them for me.

Plus that cute little doggy is utterly annoying. 

Prometheus + Hobbit = Happy

I had a wee tussle with myself as these two trailers were finally released. In my world of black and white I felt I had to choose which one I liked and am looking forward to more. The Hobbit, as you know, gives the cheerful but dangerous tale of Bilbo Baggins' eventful journey with a band of dwarfs. Prometheus, meanwhile, is a precursor - not prequel - to the Alien franchise (importantly) directed by Ridley Scott, the ultimate progenitor of the series.

Tolkien's The Hobbit (and the Rings Trilogy) are some of the first books I ever read as a mere infant. They resonate deeply with me for so many reasons, not the least of which being that my parents spent some of their courtship writing love notes in Elvish to one another. Pete Jackson's LOTR trilogy was a magical, beautiful adaptation of the richly detailed world of Middle Earth, of which I loved every minute, extended editions included. The news that Jackson would be helming the brave halfling's adventures with dwarfs (not dwarves), trolls, spiders of Mirkwood and dragons - even at the expense of seeing the great and wonderful Guillermo del Toro's take on the world - was stupidly exciting. Therefore I should choose The Hobbit, shouldn't I?


Alien, on the other hand, Ridley Scott's 1979 masterpiece, is not only my favourite film, I often give it credit for being the film that pulled me into the world of cinema at all. I am sure it was the first adult film I saw that utterly and totally hypnotised me, I was completely submersed in the dark, dank Nostromo and those terrifying, pregnant silences. I doubt I would be quite so obsessed with film had it not been for this film, the lack of which would therefore have left me bereft of one of the greatest joys on earth. Therefore I choose Prometheus, right?

The choice was killing. Then I had a small epiphany. I don't have to choose! I can love them both equally. So there it is.

It's a man eat dog world

So Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall is in trouble for declaring that he has "no objection" to eating darling little puppies. Of course he in trouble: his comments were intelligent and utterly reasonable, suitably backed-up with caveats, but also happen to go against a deeply held belief that dogs are 'pets' and sacrosanct as such.
Hugh is not claiming that he wants to, or that anyone should, eat these furry little creatures, just that there is no sensible distinction between eating a purpose-reared puppy and a purpose-reared pig. Both are intelligent enough creatures, but somehow, the thought of eating the one is abhorrent, but eating the other is utterly acceptable. In true Daily Mail style, there is even a revoltingly cute picture of a little puppy attached to the article, just to hammer home how inhuman you would have to be to eat one. You have to love their sheer gall; ever petrified their 'readers' will form their own opinion on a set of facts. Ha. Hark at me. Facts in a Daily Mail article!
Anyway...It can't be diet. True, dogs eat all kinds of shit - dog food is hardly what you would call haute cuisine - so I wouldn't necessarily want to eat anything that had been feasting on cheap gristly sludge. Pigs, on the other hand, aren't exactly known for their discerning culinary tastes either.
It is surely not about intelligence either. In most 'intelligent' animal lists dogs and pigs feature pretty consistently. Of course what most people mean by 'intelligent' in animals is actually their faculty to do as they are told, which dogs, most of the time, are pretty good at.
I am unwilling to suggest that my pathological dislike of dogs has me cheering in support of the Hugh's comments, but only because I agree whole heartedly. There can be, there is, no reasonable difference between the two.
I would eat you if you had been fed on the right things...

You may have an Oscar, but you still have to take your clothes off...

Why is it that, on the whole, women have to have their beauty weaponised by the press, but men can get away with being ugly, old, fat, sweaty, oily, hairy, vile, or just plain boring? There are plenty of exceptions on both sides of the argument. I know this.

But why does every article about an actress, even highly respectful, admiring and intelligent articles, have to be accompanied by lush semi-naked shots of them sprawled across a velvet chaise longue? Empire magazine, who generally have a good understanding of the idea that talent is unrelated to physical perfection (or not) are guilty of sexualising their female stars. Looking at 100 Empire covers, almost every single one with a female actor has her stripped naked, or at least showing some side-boob. True there may be some flexed and oiled  torsos but they really are in the minority.

I know that these are adult women and they surely have a choice in these matters, but I am sure it must be a little wearing sometimes. Yes, we respect your work and yes, we respect you as a person, not just as a woman, yes, we respect your excellent performances and recognise your discerning taste...now just take your clothes off and pout as hard as you can...