Mon Oncle

111 minutes is a long time to watch people walking into lampposts and Mon Oncle joins the canon of films that has missed the lessons of the two-reeler.

It makes the mistake of having too many environments. They are not wholly convincing and they lead to a mishmash of styles and ideas that, in a film without a plot, helps to produce a feeling of disengagement.

To watch Mon Oncle and to see slapstick comedy accompanied by sleek, multi-coloured Cadillacs is a strange experience. It makes one yearn for monochrome and the sound of a backfiring jalopy, or just any environment that is more suitable for foot-in-bucket humour.

Hire Hulot’s Holiday instead. It’s simple, it’s short, there is a continuity of environment and, far more importantly, it’s funny.

If you have already seen it, don’t besmirch your opinion of Jacques Tati by watching this protracted disappointment.

Prime Minister Announces Withdrawal From Iraq Debates

Tony Blair has called for UK Labour MPs to leave debates about Iraq by the end of May.

He says a phased withdrawal should begin immediately, despite fears remaining MPs will have little experience of democracy.

The PM wants backbenchers to leave Iraq debates immediately, followed by cabinet members at the end of February and then, at the start of March, he will personally draw the curtain.

Leader of the Opposition, David Cameron, argued that setting an arbitrary timetable for the withdrawal would send the wrong signal to voters and could lead to scenes of mayhem in the House of Commons.

However, the Prime Minister was steadfast as he outlined his plans for the withdrawal. “We have to face that the situation in the Commons is a grim one and a serious one. Sometimes it is better to lose and do the right thing than to win and do the wrong thing. We have occupied the House for too long on this matter. The more we stay in Parliament, the more we create further hatred. Disengagement from debate is the way forward. Our arguments are spent, their futility apparent. We need to give the MPs of other parties a chance to have their say.”

Some critics have voiced concerns the withdrawal will create a power vacuum that would be calamitous for British politics.

Infighting amongst the opposition, particularly the Conservative party, could lead to destructive petty squabbling and a worsening of an already desperate situation. The most pessimistic of predictions points to directionless debates with increased deployment of sarcasm and a rise in barracking.

Heroin Executives Look On The Bright Side

Leading bosses in the heroin sector pledged yesterday to revolutionise their business to become a “leader in helping to create a low-carbon economy” with a host of drastic measures to help fight climate change.

Traditionally workers in the heroin field have worked in a pyramid organisation with low levels of respect for co-workers so it is a measure of their growing concern that the new proposals will provide changes from top to bottom.

An Edinburgh heroin dealer, Mickey Johnstone, said “I mainly deal with cotton shooters and consumers who have chicken shit habits so we intend to encourage needle share programs and advise against wasteful practices such as firing the ack-ack gun.”

“Providing H wrapped in foil and in a bag is a reckless waste of the earth’s resources and it will now be served in a pre-packed state, thus limiting the amount our consumers send to land fill. We also intend to offer a discount to anyone who brings the bag from their last score and by 2010 we will refuse to provide to consumers who do not have their own bag. This will help us identify our habitual customers and then we will be satisfied we are local traders”

Mazar-e-Sharif, an Afghan poppy farmer, commented “We will spearhead a campaign to sell to nearby countries as, due to recent events, we have found a growing demand for our product from the people of Iraq. Although this particular market cannot command the same price for our merchandise - our transportation costs, as well as our carbon output, are lessened, so hopefully we can enjoy the same flow of profit.”

“Due to a better than expected poppy crop we can also re-invest some capital and we plan to increase our long term bribery incentives in Europe. Having widely penetrated law enforcement in Iraq and Afghanistan with a bribe level of 10-25% we have produced a business model for 25% bribe penetration in the western markets. This should have a beneficial effect in the community by promoting cohesion and security as it reduces police attention from our product and thus lessens fuel emissions and paper consumption.”

In an emailed statement from the heart of The Golden Triangle, Kim Van Phoung, a Savannakhet chemist, announced “Ever since the invasion of Vietnam, we have profited too much from war torn areas and the availability of mass transportation. Although some of the more potentially traumatising effects of climate change may, in the short term, produce a surge in demand from consumers keen to obliterate memories of devastation, we know this will not be sustainable in the long term.”

“Therefore, by the warmer years of 2040, we are aiming to move away from areas of conflict and develop markets locally. This will greatly lesson our carbon footprint and will help to produce a more consistent high, a jacking-up experience the user will want to repeat.”

“Our slogan: Heroin and Climate Change – It’s The Way We Will See It Through”

The Film That Started It All

Maybe it was Mad Max.

It was independently financed and was such a success that it had an entry in the Guiness book of records for the highest profit to cost ratio for a motion picture before it was recently overtaken by The Blair Witch Project. Had Mel not had that experience, maybe he would have not had the confidence to self finance 'The Passion' and 'Apocalptyo.'

It also had the Australian accents removed by the studio in post production. Maybe he felt so strangled he now likes to prove American cinema-goers are ok to stump up to see films in Aramaic and Mayan languages.

One of the tag lines for Max is: In the future, cities will become deserts, roads will become battlefields and the hope of mankind will appear as a stranger.

For Apocalptyo we have: When the End Comes Not Everybody Is Ready To Go.

Mel is also more than a bit mad and likes making extremely violent films. Given that he said of a New York Times writer who accused him of flaming anti-semitism: “I want to kill him. I want his intestines on a stick. I want to kill his dog” maybe it is not surprising to see his latest offering continuing the trend.

Apocalypto is an entertaining, bonkers movie set around 600AD in Mesoamerica, immediately before the Spanish conquest and the decline of the Mayan civilisation.

It opens with a small part of the tribe on a hunt and when they successfully kill a boar, there is a scene of easy tranquility as the group bonds and provides pre-Viagra fertility advice and treatment for a member seemingly desperate for the invention of the turkey baster.

Two scenes later comes the inevitable regime change as the community is raided by a hitherto undetected neighbouring tribe keen on recruiting some fleshy raw materials for their urban slavery and sacrifice initiative.

A young father, a Ronaldinho look-a-like called Jaguar Paw, is not ready for his family to become organ donors and hides his pregnant wife and child in a hole in the ground, and bravely gets himself captured.

The film becomes a “there and back again” tale of Jaguar Paw’s plight and it is rollicking, if over long, entertainment. We are asked to wonder if he can return to rescue his wife and child as he pursued by a group led by an antagonist who is an enthralling combination of Yul Brynner in Westworld mode, the crapped upon Orc in The Fellowship of The Ring and Lord Humungous from Mad Max 2.

One of Apocalypto’s joys comes from spotting how many bits have been pre-owned from other narratives as well known snippets are extricated from their comfort zone and placed in a superbly created Mesoamerica to see how they cope. Proudly displaying their adaptability are moments reminiscent of Butch Cassidy and The Sundance kid, The Planet of The Apes, the viewer’s choice of Sergio Leone showdown pics and, (spot this one childhood nerds!) Tintin’s 'Prisoners of the Sun'.

Sometimes a little bit of cheese wafts its way in, particularly towards the end, and we are asked to believe that Jaguar Paw is capable of some amazing feats of endurance but this is a boy’s own film to watch. It is beautifully shot, has some great action and, bizarrely, even features mother in law gags that are humourous, both intentionally and unintentionally.

It is historically inaccurate but no matter - it banishes the January blues and had Mel not turned up for the Mad Max audition, complete with bruised face from the previous night’s bar brawl, we would not be able to enjoy this projection of his persecution complex. Cinematically at least, we should be glad he’s not yet ready to go.

Amazing story. Thanks for calling.

To help penetrate the winter gloom a beacon of brilliance is soon to be broadcast on Radio 4 as Tuesday Jan 16th sees the return of “Down The Line” at 11pm.

The creation of Lucy Armitage, Charlie Higson and Paul Whitehouse, a comedy team at the height of its powers, it is a superb spoof of a phone in. Guests such as Harry Enfield help with the voices, the observations are acute and the whole package is a guaranteed mirth fest.

The fictional presenter, Gary Bellamy, who has a biography on the show’s web-site, struggles with impartiality, devil's advocacy and reigning in his own ego. He's a natural.

At the beginning of the show he introduces the topics for discussion. The comedy brilliantly bulls-eyes the desperation, narcissism and boredom that causes many callers to contact the station and the ensuing meandering verbal outpourings, - “can’t they see common sense?”, “What is wrong with these people?”, “I have had many things fall on my head” - with their hilariously trite conclusions, provide a smartly observed snapshot of Britain.

As often with the best radio performances, the beauty of the writing lends it a live quality, as though the creators are simply ad-libbing and enjoying themselves. They should be, they deserve it.

It is well worth whisking yourself to the local late night A&E, storming into the bloodiest outpatient section, plonking in iPod earpieces and sitting back to thirty minutes of inspiration, as it is a winter reminder of how the best comedy can make even the most hellish scenario bearable

Screen Time

A long session of internet poker can be an extremely dull experience, akin to a traffic jam lacking a colour-in book, a full bladder or a passenger that is ready to row.

To prevent myself randomly typing abusive comments at largely blameless avatars, there are times I need something to stimulate the senses.

Usually it is Radio 2. Other times I try to achieve a snore rate of 93 decibels – that, fact fans, is the equivalent of an underground train. My life is, actually, that rock ‘n roll

I have always taken issue with gender assumptions about certain capabilities – if men are such skilled map-readers, why doesn’t Burt Baccarach find his own way to San Jose – and so I often try to leaven flat-lining poker play by adding a DVD in the background and testing my multi tasking capabilities

Some films help this process but they tend towards uncomplicated plots, explosions and Adam Sandler. The interest level raises a notch but it is far from an edifying experience. The trick is to combine intelligence and straightforward narrative. I’ve flirted with foreign language flicks but usually, due to the subtitles, the story reaches the third act watershed and I’m still identifying with the Art Deco lamp shade.

On Tuesday I tried to absorb Syriana, Stephen Gaghen’s 2005 film about corruption in the oil world. It was an English language narrative too far and during its two hour length, it comes close to the world record of “Who the hell is that?” moments.

A bearded George Clooney plays CIA man Bob Barnes, a character inspired by ex real agent Robert Baer, on whose non-fiction book “See No Evil” the story is based. The book covers twenty-five years of the life of a CIA operative in the Middle East starting in the late seventies and the film is a bold attempt to form a narrative for the screen. However, the material is inherently so complicated that it resists the fictionalised cinematic shoehorning and it resembles the experience of viewing a collage lacking a central theme.

Barnes is the fall guy when the agency fails in an attempt to assassinate an Emir apparent, whilst Matt Damon, in a pre Team America level of articulation, plays an energy analyst who has a murky association with a powerful figure in Iran. Chris Cooper provides strong support as an energy executive who combines a desire for land-raping wealth with a Texas accent.

Like Gaghen’s 2000 screenplay for Traffic, it is multi stranded and interweaving but it lacks Soderbergh’s confident touch in skilfully bringing it all together and although it remains interesting, and contains some great acting, it is an oddly numbing experience. At no stage is there any emotional engagement with the players. It is as though the filmmakers’ commendable desire to make an apolitical picture has also resulted in a still life production of the oil world’s complex landscape.

Whilst accepting that trying to watch the growing radicalisation of a young Pakistani immigration worker and simultaneously attempting to monitor the poker play of Bostonhitman does not position me in the ideal critical frame of mind, it was gratifying to hear that my flatmate, a man whose attention was solely directed to untangling the film’s web, was also left comparably confused and unimpressed.

The combination of the tedious poker game and the emotionally deadening film led to some terrible decisions at the hold ‘em table. In the future, when I feel like swearing at fellow players, I’ll stick to car chase movies or ones with a Wizard of Oz narrative.

Or maybe I should just try anger management.

After all, it has Adam Sandler.