Day 295: Bullet Time

The Gunslinger And I…

October 22 main

Today I and my Adidas Superstars are getting a little too close to the action in Westworld for comfort. I’ll jump outta here before I have to give the trainers back with bullet holes in them.

Spent an hour chatting to ’80s pop video legend Russell Mulcahy last night; we nattered so much about Elton John’s teamaking, Simon le Bon’s acting and Bonnie’s Tyler’s indignation, that we had to schedule in a second interview tonight to talk about Highlander and Teen Wolf.

Believe it or not, Mulcahy didn’t even realise that he had once directed Dark Knight trilogy composer Hans Zimmer until I told him that in a former career, Zimmer was a member of geeky pop combo The Buggles; back in 1981 Mulcahy called the shots on the legendary promo for “Video Killed The Radio Star”. Now they’ll have something to natter about when they bump into each other at some Hollywood bash or other.

edge-of-tomorrowAfter that I watched two films for a feature I’m co-writing today, both of which I somehow missed on release. Quite why nobody has ever enthused about Edge Of Tomorrow to me is a mystery. It may not be the most original SF film (and there’s one massive great “Huh?” with the central concept that I won’t go into here because it would mean all kinds of spoilers) but it takes a genre cliché and runs with it in all sorts of fun and clever ways. I still have an issue with Cruise (he’s a great actor, I just can’t watch him without thinking, “Scientologist standing on boxes”) but that’s my problem not is; I’ve mentally typecast him not in a role, but with a real-world label.

spike jonze phoenix herOn the other hand, rarely have I been so at odds with general critical opinion as with Spike Jonze’s Her. I usually like Jonze’s films, but I found this tale of a navel-gazing middle-aged moper falling in love with his operating system hideously contrived, and, despite its veneer of indie-coolness, as cynically emotionally manipulative as a Love, Actually. I just about hated every character in it; a colleague texted me to tell me that’s the point – you’re supposed to laugh at them not empathise with them – but I couldn’t do either. It just seemed to be a film to make emotionally damaged hipsters feel better about themselves. I far preferred the similarly themed Ruby Sparks.

Time for some work now.

See you tomorrow.

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