2/26/2018 8 Comments “I Want To Watch Something Light” Or Why We Shouldn’t Judge Each Other For Wanting To Watch Mean Girls Sometimes.For a lot of reasons, films like Mean Girls, Bridesmaids and Legally Blonde are massively overlooked. Obviously, a key factor in these comedies is misogyny but such judgement also extends across the comedy genre.
It seems to be widely assumed that these kinds of films are inherently less worthy than films tackling heavier subjects such as war and race. There is an assumption that comedy films don’t deserve recognition because of their lighter subject matters, or simply because the film is funny. Of course, this doesn’t apply to all comedy films. Monty Python and the Holy Grail is still widely recognised as one of the greatest comedy films of all time, and remains a landmark in British filmmaking. So would Monty Python be considered something ‘light’ to watch? It’s a matter of personal preference, but personally it is something light to watch. The stories are easy to follow, the characters likable and the dialogue more than enjoyable. It doesn’t require a massive amount of thinking on the audiences’ part, unlike a David Lynch film for example. But that doesn’t mean the film is any less of a ‘film’ than a Lynch film. There is, and always will be, a certain amount of ‘snobbiness’ surrounding film. The very masculine nerd culture surrounding online and real-life film communities often means that female led films and comedies are looked down upon, and lighter viewing is shunned. A distinction is made between what is a film and what is a film. For a self-described film nerd, a film must (in their view) have a complex storyline, clever dialogue and clever characters. But these characteristics are all subjective; what is clever dialogue to me may be completely boring to someone else, and a complex storyline does not necessarily mean the film is enjoyable or coherent. Film is a very personal experience, and each film watched requires a different state of mind. A lighter film, then, can be defined as a film that is easier to consume, one that would not keep you up at night thinking, or depress you in any way. A heavier film would be one that demands constant attention, and can leave you with more questions than answers, or a film that makes you question your own beliefs about the world. But just because a film is easier to consume doesn’t mean that it is less worthy than a heavier film. By these definitions, Mean Girls would classify as a lighter film. The story is easy to follow, the characters are enjoyable, relatable and by the end of the film all likeable. The cinematography isn’t complex, and the narration by the main character guides the viewer through the film. However, it still manages to accurately capture the teenage experience; its highs, lows and the dramatic emotional arcs of every character, and is perhaps the backlash against the perceived image of cat fighting women that is so often seen in film and TV geared towards men. Mean Girls was a cultural phenomenon with an ongoing following, and even references in How to Get Away with Murder. Similarly, Bridesmaids can be read as a backlash against the stereotypical romcom, with female friendships taking priority and male characters function mainly as secondary characters or antagonists. The women have their own stories, personalities and struggles, despite outward appearances. Both the men and women are allowed to be emotionally vulnerable; they make bad decisions and face the consequences, they experience pressures in relationships, both platonic and romantic, and the film ends with a well written reconciliation between women. So, if lighter films can have complex relationships, characters and tackle a range of social issues, and even have a more socially aware approach that heavier films, why should they be deemed less worthy? Why is it seen as lesser to enjoy these films, almost as if it is a noble cause to torture ourselves with stories that have no resolution and depressing endings? With something so subjective and personal as film, I think it is divisive and unnecessary to judge entire genres as lesser because of their lighter subject matter or humorous approach, and at the end of the day, it’s the impact the film makes on you that matters the most. Thanks for reading, Ayeshah Lalloo x
8 Comments
This year’s BAFTA winners weren’t particularly surprising, with strong contenders Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri and The Shape of the Water taking home some major awards in the run up to the Oscars.
Daniel Kaluuya won this year’s Rising Star award, voted for by the public, and deservedly so. Kaluuya, who began in TV and theatre including shows like Skins and Doctor Who, stunned in his performance in Get Out, and brought a captivating and nuanced performance as W’Kabi in Black Panther. A well-deserved win in my opinion. Although it’s not surprising that Three Billboards took home the awards for Best Film, Best Actress and Best Supporting Actor among others, it doesn’t exist without controversy. Of course, everyone has something to say about every film, but the debate over this film is particularly interesting. Three Billboards has been branded racist for the apparent ‘sweeping under the rug’ approach to racism in the film, as well as the use of a black character to further the plot, rather than claim her place in the film as a fully-fledged character. The controversy surrounds Sam Rockwell’s character, Officer Dixon. It’s no secret that Dixon is a racist, openly using the 'n' word and bragging about torturing a black man in prison. With this in mind, I assumed that if Dixon were to be redeemed at the end, it would involve at least some admission on his part that his racism is a major problem that needs to be addressed. And as for Frances McDormand’s character, Mildred Hayes, she seems to have a very strong sense of justice, in regard to both sexism and racism. She addresses, briefly, Dixon’s abuse of a black man in prison, but this appears to be less and less of an issue as the film goes on. The film is primarily about Hayes seeking justice for her daughter, who was raped and murdered, but the decision to throw racism into the mix was a conscious one. As a writer, if you consciously include such an issue in a film, then you also have a duty to resolve that issue at one point or another. It is not enough for the racist to fight for justice for one person, if he refuses to admit the own injustices he has inflicted on others. The film doesn’t seem to care enough to do this, and sweeps the issue under the rug. If Dixon, a violent racist, is afforded humanity and redemption, then why are his black victims not afforded the same? With all the discussion about accessibility, racism and sexism in Hollywood, it’s not surprising that Three Billboards, despite all its merits, is facing a justifiable backlash. Anti-conservative protestors also took to the red carpet. Sisters Uncut, a group formed against austerity measures that have devastated many domestic violence support services, stormed the red carpet, chanting ‘Times up Theresa May’. The women bravely put themselves at the centre of the red carpet, calling for justice for domestic abuse survivors who have been wrongly incriminated, and are left to fend for themselves, traumatised by their abusers and the system. With the Time’s Up movement still going strong, it’s important to remember that sexism is still rampant in our own justice system, and many women’s voices will continue to go unheard unless those in power, like these women, take some action against it. Let me know your opinions on the awards, the film and the protests in the comments below. Thanks for reading! Ayeshah. It's Valentine's Day! So for those of you who would like to read something interesting that isn't about teddy bears and romantic dinners, have a load of this.
Over the weekend I took a trip down to London to see a screening of Tommy Wiseau’s The Room and the first thing I did after watching it at the Prince Charles Cinema was look up the cinema’s history. I wanted to know why it had such a bizarre set up, with a concave floor and a screen that was too high to be healthy for the neck. There’s no particular reason for its bizarre interior, but I did find out that, for a while, it functioned as a porn cinema. The phrase ‘porn cinema’, for me, conjures up a Blade Runner-esque atmosphere; shrouded in mystery, neon lit and overwhelmingly uncomfortable. Its miles away from the cult cinema atmosphere The Prince Charles retains now. Whilst perhaps more widespread in the US, porn cinemas have also been popular in the UK. Club 487 and Mr B’s popped up a lot in my research (my internet history is … colourful as a result), and offered an unexpected insight into what ‘films’ are on offer and how a porn cinema functions. From such wonders as Assablanca to Ass Pirates of the Caribbean, ogle-eyed regulars come time and time again to marvel at the wonders of porn on the big screen. They’re not here for a ten-minute quickie, rather a full experience where they can leisurely live out their fantasies in comfortable chairs, surrounded by other wankers (pun intended). According to some articles, porn cinemas functioned as a social club, with many regulars finding friendship in an unexpected place. So why did London’s porn cinemas still exist up until their forcible closures in 2016? It’s easy to assume that as soon as internet porn became widely accessible, demand for such cinemas would cease entirely, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. Regulars argued against Islington council’s decision to shut down Mr B’s, at the time one of London’s last porn cinemas. The decision to close it down perhaps reflecting a change in morals. A councillor argued that the cinema was a public place on a public high street, giving the council the right to shut down what they believed was an unsavoury place. Yet, the Presidents Club scandal exposed the oversexualised and predatory behaviour that the rich and powerful are allowed to partake in, whilst the arguably less harmful porn cinemas are shut down by the councils who cite moral integrity as their justification. Whilst the porn cinema is probably not something the majority of us would choose to go to, its existence, and now non-existence, opens up a lot of questions and debate. We often go to the cinema because of the thrill of seeing a film on the silver screen, and some get their kicks from watching porn as publicly as possible. Is there more to their closures than simple moral changes; does gentrification play a role in the closing of these cinemas? Surely, if the people going to porn cinemas are following rules, not harming anyone and the venue is regulated, then there isn’t much of a reason to shut it down. Similarly, it can be argued that regular visits would amount to a porn addiction, a problem that should be kept private by using internet porn. Regular films themselves do not shy away from sex, with directors such as Lars Von Trier and the sexploitation genre bringing some questionable scenes onto the big screen. People are probably more familiar with the 50 Shades of Grey trilogy, which is now on its third and final film, 50 Shades Freed, made $39M on its opening weekend in the USA alone. I haven’t seen any of the films, but I imagine its no better than the source material, a badly written Twilight fanfiction. Despite having "strong sexual content including dialogue, some unusual behaviour and graphic nudity, and language", the film was given an R rating, rather than the more restrictive NC-17 rating, which often affects distribution with a more limited audience and certain cinemas refusing to play NC-17 rated films. So maybe the porn cinema isn’t so far removed from our understanding of a regular cinema, and perhaps some films owe much more to porn cinema than they’d care to admit. Sadly, I can’t direct you to a porn cinema but the internet will always be there for you. Thanks for reading! Ayeshah x There is no doubt that Netflix, Amazon Prime and the like have become the most popular and important platforms for film viewing. With Netflix reigning in nearly 118 million subscribers globally, instant access to film has become the main source of spectatorship. We cannot ignore the significance of that, and for certain filmmakers and critics to snub Netflix is incredibly unfair and only serves to further the social divide between people. Netflix is cheap; subscription is only £8.99 a month, giving you access to thousands of shows and films, some independent, some not. That may seem a lot to some, but think about it. It costs about £10 per ticket in the cinema, and that’s only for 1 film. It’s also on demand, meaning you can watch films during your commute to work, so you don’t have to take time out of your schedule to go to the cinema.
So what does this mean for culture? Throughout the last few centuries’ high culture, such as art, the opera, high fashion and even things like yoga are only really accessible to those who have money and time. Globalization means that being ‘cultured’ is more important than ever. It allows you to become more aware, critical and understanding of others. It also widens your perspective on the world. Film is a main source of cultural output, and Netflix gives easy access, to anyone who has a computer, to culture. Recently it has begun to commission thought-provoking and incredibly exciting filmmakers to make Netflix Originals- like Okja, who otherwise may not have been given such a platform. Not only does Netflix foster new, original creativity, it also gives such filmmakers a global reach, accessing millions of people worldwide, from all walks of life. On demand film and TV has made the film world, and by extension the cultural world more democratic than it has ever been before. Though there are issues about the ‘binge’ culture that Netflix brings, leading to a perceived ‘devaluing’ of the artistry of TV shows, on a personal level it has allowed me to easily access films that I may have never heard of, and foreign films that I may otherwise not have been able to access. However, I do love the cinema experience. It is something that everyone should get the chance to experience at least a few times a year, but if you don’t have £10 to spend every few weeks (and that’s without all the snacks), Netflix is a convenient alternative to getting your weekly (or if you’re like me, daily) dose of culture. Thanks for reading! Tulsi Behl x 2/4/2018 0 Comments Indie shorts In The SpotlightI feel like I’ve been doing a disservice by only writing about major award shows. In our director’s workshop, we discussed how ridiculous the Oscar voting system is, often limiting awards to a small circle of films and filmmakers. This isn’t to say that the films that win aren’t amazing and don’t deserve Oscars, but it does make it difficult for new talent to be recognised.
Fortunately for us, the popularity of indie films has gone up and people are looking for new, interesting content that breaks the rules of Hollywood. With YouTube, Vimeo and FilmFreeway, it’s pretty easy to get your film out there. So in this article, I’m going to be writing about a couple of my favourite indie/non-Oscar shorts, and also talk a little bit about Sundance’s new indie episodic category. One of my favourite shorts is Barry Jenkins’ My Josephine (2003), which he made as a student. It’s a very simple film, about a couple who run a launderette. The man narrates the film in Arabic, telling a complex tale with simple words. What I love about this is that there’s nothing that is too complex to achieve on a low budget. Jenkins creativity shines through and transforms this launderette into a room of love, conflict and understanding. In a few simple lines we learn of identity struggles (she speaks in English, he asks her to speak in Arabic), the fluorescent lighting and blue hues make it feel like it’s taking place underwater, somewhere far away from a launderette. Another favourite of mine is Double King by Felix Colgrave. It’s a short, bizarre animation ‘about love and regicide’, as described by Colgrave himself. It follows a ‘king’ and his quest to steal every crown he comes across. With no real dialogue, the narrative is propelled entirely by Colgrave’s creative use of sound, space and movement. It’s a charming, if a little unnerving, film I highly recommend. Dear Mr Shakespeare, by Shola Amoo and Phoebe Boswell, uses Shakespeare’s play Othello to confront issues about today’s world, specifically on otherness and identity in the modern world. Not only is the spoken word enchanting, but the poetic use of dancing and rapid editing turns the words into an incredible audio-visual experience. The film was shot in Peckham, South London over two days and, in the same way Barry Jenkins transformed the launderette, this film shows how our immediate surroundings and personal histories are rich with inspirations for short films. This year, Sundance introduced a new category, the Indie Episodic. The category makes space for indie TV pilots at the festival, allowing TV writers the same exposure as filmmakers. In recent years, TV has become more and more cinematic with shows like Hannibal, How to Get Away with Murder and Twin Peaks demonstrating how visually and emotionally intense TV can be. The Indie Episodic is an exciting addition to the Sundance line up, and rightfully brings TV creators a step closer to being recognised for their talents just as much as filmmakers are. Thanks for reading! Ayeshah Lalloo x |
written by society membersA place for society members to discuss debates going on in Hollywood, their personal favourites, and anything else related to all things film! Archives
February 2019
|