Monday January 30th 2012
Thanks to a tip off from @James__Hall on Twitter, I was able to pick up a copy of The Observer yesterday, which featured on its reverse a poster for Carnage. Much to my amazement, there I was — quoted in pride of place alongside The Times and The Independent. As you may remember, an article I wrote last November did indeed refer to the film as …
‘a taut, laugh-out-loud comedy’
… but the main thrust of the piece was that Hollywood needs to consider the ethical ramifications of doing business with a man who still hasn’t faced sentencing for his child rape conviction. In the same article, I suggested that:
‘from this point onwards all reviews, posters and other marketing materials for his films should be accompanied by a Surgeon General-style warning, featuring quotes from the infamous rape trial.’
In all honestly, I had little hope of my suggestion being taken seriously, but now that my influence over the film’s marketing materials has been so resolutely confirmed, I’m confident that my demands can still be met.
I would therefore like to insist that Studio Canal, should they wish to use my name on any future advertising (and please do, I’m honoured to be mentioned in such prestigious company), must adhere to my advice and put the warning system into immediate effect. Here’s a mock-up they may wish to forward to the design team:
It’s all about transparency, people.
Tuesday January 24th 2012
At 1:30pm today the 84th Academy Award nominations will be announced by Jennifer Lawrence and a largely irrelevant man, live from the home entertainment department of their local Currys. One by one, the lucky films will have their titles displayed on the screens behind Lawrence, in a variety of jazzy colours designed to make them look more exciting than they really are.
In many ways, it’s the Best Typography award that the Oscar ceremony is so sorely lacking. Let’s see what’s in contention …
The Artist is destined to be the big dawg at this year’s Oscars, and this cock-of-the-walk two tiered design knows it. That ‘S’ is literally dripping in swagger.
Well now, this just screams class. If the Academy gave out an award for sheer quantity of serifs, War Horse would have it sewn up.
This ‘geometry on acid’ design for The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo reinforces just how edgy the film really is. It tells the Academy: you’re not just voting for a film featuring excessive quantities of anal rape, you’re voting for a film with a recessed centre bar on its upper case ‘E’.
Jaunty, old-fashioned and three-dimensional — you see what they’ve done there.
Woody Allen has been using EF Windsor Light Condensed since 1975 so this is less a title treatment and more a reminder that HEY ACADEMY, THIS IS A WOODY ALLEN FILM. REMEMBER HIM FROM BULLETS OVER BROADWAY?
This simple, striking application of Gotham is the typographic equivalent of your dad sitting you down in front of the voting ballot and reminding you in no uncertain terms that Moneyball is an important, serious movie that deserves a little recognition. See also: Obama.
It’s all wobbly! Like the fractured soul of Alexander Payne’s latest rent-a-midlife-crisis. But there’s a flower too, so chances are The Descendants is a little bit playful and pretty to boot.
Strong, sensible and restrained — everything The Help is not.
Monday January 23rd 2012
If you’ve ever wanted to see a host of cinematic luminaries talking to Nice Guy Keanu Reeves about their feelings towards digital filmmaking then you’re in luck because Side by Side, the first documentary feature from editor Christopher Kenneally, offers exactly that. If not, perhaps I can interest you in this photograph of Sara, a walrus in Instanbul who can play the saxophone:
In either case, I wish you the best of luck with your endeavours.
Friday January 20th 2012
When The Telegraph broke the storm in a teacup major international news story that a couple of people at the Liverpool One Odeon asked for refunds on The Artist because they didn’t realise it was a silent movie, few could have predicted how far the story would spread. Perez Hilton wrote about it, insisting that ‘some people need to learn how to use Imdb.com’. The Washington Post said it was ‘more ridiculous’ than the story about the woman who tried to sue Drive because it wasn’t like The Fast and The Furious. Even director Michel Hazanavicius weighed in on the subject, telling the Telegraph rather snidely:
“If I could give any advice to people it would be that they should ask for their money back whenever they see a film they don’t expect.”
It’s funny — I don’t remember Jon Turteltaub being hounded for comment after I walked out of National Treasure 2 a few years ago. So what’s so special about a couple of Liverpudlians taking offence at The Artist? Is it their geographical location? The audacity of their request for a refund? Or our own desire to laugh at people we perceive as ‘dumber’ than we are?
“You really didn’t know that The Artist was silent?” we ask, slapping them around the head with old copies of Variety, “you must be following the wrong people on Twitter. Weren’t you at the Cannes premiere? Please tell me you’re keeping up with the Oscar precursors.”
Not since Jeffrey Wells’s infamous ‘single mums in Leeds’ tirade has the world paid so much attention to the cinemagoing habits of northerners, and yet nobody’s even managed to track down one of the ‘irate’ customers in question. Isn’t it entirely possible that the two or three people who asked for refunds were perfectly intelligent adults who just didn’t realise what they were in for? After all, the film’s own trailer barely seems to realise it’s a silent movie, why should they?
Six years ago I went to see Brick on its opening weekend at an arthouse cinema in South London. Having not seen the trailer or read much about it, I wasn’t prepared for quite how stylised it would be. I didn’t really get it, so I left about ten minutes in and saw X-Men 3 instead. Does this make me an idiot? Does this mean I deserve to be patronised by Perez fucking Hilton and have Xan Brooks at The Guardian berate Hollywood’s lack of imagination on my behalf?
Or does it just mean that films like Brick and The Artist, for all their awards and critical acclaim, are still incapable of pleasing literally everyone? Be it a confused teenager at the Clapham Picturehouse or a tiny minority of cinemagoers at the Liverpool One Odeon.
If you still can’t get your head around the concept, take some comfort in the fact that I watched Brick again last year and enjoyed it quite a bit, albeit less than most critics. Who knows, maybe Liverpool Blockbuster will be rushed off their feet come July.
