The Matrix Sequels - 10 Years on...

I'm back with a post, unfortunately no new writing to report - I've had a bit of an uninspired patch lately, my creative get-up-and-go seemed to have got up and went! Anyway, I apologise for using that clichéd joke - I've not completely dried up as I've a couple of ideas that have sprung to mind in the last couple of days; I just need some time to sit down and wrestle them in to my (still non-existent) story plan.

In the meantime, I thought I'd write about some more films, and as this month marks 10 years since the release of the first of the two sequels to 'The Matrix', I felt it an appropriate time to reflect on them.

They are, with some justification, widely regarded as two of the most disappointing sequels ever filmed. Whilst their flaws are pretty apparent, I believe there are redeeming features to them which shouldn't be entirely dismissed. I recently decided to watch them both back-to-back (it was actually the first time I'd watched 'Reloaded' since it was in the cinemas), and here are my thoughts on them.

I'll start with 'The Matrix Reloaded'; elements of this film have been widely derided, and viewing it ten years later hasn't dulled these. Firstly, there's the Zion Rave scene - a miss-handled attempt to show why humanity is worth fighting for and warring for its salvation. Only, it does look pretty laughable, especially interwoven with a particularly unconvincing sex-scene... There is also the Architect scene, famously parodied on more than one occasion - the revelation this delivered about Neo and his role in the Matrix should have hit like a Vader-sized bombshell; but because of the ostentatious, overly-verbose and slightly pretentious speech the Architect delivers it is robbed of its power. This speech requires multiple viewings to really get your head round, and while I think any film that is designed to encourage and reward repeat viewings with an enhanced understanding of its message, if the majority of the audience can't follow it on the first viewing then it's kind of failed to achieve it's point.

Aside from these glaringly obvious problem points, I think 'Reloaded's biggest problems are its structure/pacing, and the heavy-handedness with which it presents the philosophical points the makers want to get across. Probably the worst example of this is early on in the film when Neo and Councillor Hamann have a conversation about the machinery which powers Zion - who is in control, the humans or the machines? It does nothing to advance the plot, and is the equivalent of hitting the audience over the head with the film's philosophy: 'freedom of choice is an illusion!!! Or is it?!?!'

This is a shame, as (like the preceding film) there are some neat visual metaphors for this, in the shape of doors (...lots of doors, as Neo might say ;-) ) - some of which lead the characters to places they might not expect; and as in the first film, this imagery is underpinned by Don Davis' great score. So while all of this unsubtle and thinly veiled philosophical exposition is taking place, you can forgive the audience for thinking 'Christ's sake, get to the Kung Fu already!!!'

This is where the weight of expectation was always going against the film - its predecessor redefined a lot of action cinema beats, with the gun play and fight scenes, and the ground breaking introduction of 'Bullet Time'. Perhaps there was no way the sequels could have improved on that, or even matched it really - but part of the desire for these sequels was to see more of the great action, so it was frustrating for the audience to have to wait for it - and to be honest, it still is, 10 years on. But when we get to the action sequences, it does deliver (mostly) - the 'Burly Brawl' and Freeway sequence are still, by and large, two well executed and at times jaw-dropping sequences.

Finally, the two-part structure of these sequels is another thing that impacts upon 'Reloaded' - the ending is far from satisfying, and leaves unanswered questions; okay, so it IS a cliff-hanger - but the sudden turn of having Neo sucked in to the Matrix without being plugged in is a twist which at that point doesn't make sense.

So it was down to the final Sequel, 'Revolutions', to redeem the two-hander. It clearly wasn't entirely successful doing this, as it is regarded as a disappointment like 'Reloaded'. It has similar pacing issues - the introduction, with Neo stuck in the train station, doesn't clarify things really, and the attack in the S&M club just feels like a dispassionate re-tread of the previous film's better action sequences; also, the reasons for Neo being sucked in to the Matrix just don't ever seem to be defined in a clear and satisfying manner.

Also, the ending is not entirely clear or satisfying - especially as the first film seems to set up a conclusion which would have Neo lead the rebellion to eventually defeat the machines and free all of humanity from The Matrix.  But there are clues as to why the film heads to this conclusion: firstly, in the suggestion that programs in the Matrix are individual intelligence's in their own right, capable of creating 'life', so in effect are a species of sentient being worthy of survival; secondly, visual clues, such as the big freakin' (and painfully heavy looking!) ear-rings worn by The Oracle.

I'm not saying that the Wachowski's execution of their message was particularly great - but at the same time I think audience expectations were pretty much confounded by the ending; I for one wasn't expecting it. But looking back and re-considering the signals and imagery that leads to it, there are certain elements of the story telling which mean the conclusion does make sense.  This article on Ain't It Cool, published towards the end of last year, hit the nail on the head for me - these two films have quite a strong anti-war message, where the conflict does not lead to a clear victory for either side; rather a peaceful balance is what should be aimed for - two sides co-existing side-by-side without war.  Whilst I disagree with the writer's assertion that The Wachowski's most probably changed the direction of the sequels to reinforce this message as a result of 9/11 (the films were already well in to production before those terrible atrocities), I think, in retrospect, this is what they were wanting to convey with these films.  Whilst this is a laudable message, as a way to conclude an action and conflict packed block-buster trilogy, it's understandable why they are still viewed as a disappointment.

So, having set out the many flaws of these Sequels, I still find myself wanting to watch them from time-to-time.  Yes, despite their myriad problems, there is still so much to enjoy about them.  I personally find 'Revolutions' the better of the two films - aside from it being the more satisfying in terms of story-telling as the conclusion, it features one of my favourite action sequences of the last decade: The Battle for Zion.  In the midst of all the Kung-fu fights, this Japanese Anime and Mecha influenced action scene was a pleasant surprise.  I love the design of the Battle-suits, the way they're portrayed on screen, the little details of them pulling the guns from their backs, with big belts of bullets feeding ammo to them.  The scenario, the desperate last stand, is well realised, making it a gripping sequence.  If I ever flick through the channels and find this film is on, and it is about to start this sequence, I will always leave it on that channel and watch it.  When I watch it, I am once again sucked in to that world and for a few minutes, completely forgetting about the real world.  That is the mark of a great fantasy setting, whether it is sci-fi or any other setting - and that is why, despite their problems, I'll keep going back to The Matrix Sequels.

'The Harrowed Man' - not necessarily just a Film Script any longer..?

My silence these last few weeks is partly due to having a week away, then returning to work to a backlog of tasks, nice! :-( ); also I've been mulling over a few things with the Film Script, mainly in terms of structure (I'm still a bit stumped over the final act).

But I've been having another significant thought regarding 'The Harrowed Man'; I might actually write it as a Novel instead of a Film.

This is basically down to my writing style as I've been drafting scenes for the Treatment - I find it easier to write in quite a descriptive way with a fair amount of details; I think that working backwards to slim the treatment to 3-4 sides of paper will be challenging.

At the moment it's an idea I'm considering, if nothing else - like I said I feel I've got to nail the structure and transition of each scene/act before I write anymore on the treatment, so by the time I get that done I may well have abandoned the Novel idea anyway!

On top of this, I've just had another Big Idea, and that has been vying with 'The Harrowed Man' for my creative attention - but I'll post some details about that at a later date...

Meet the 'Harrowed Man'...

Well I'm going away for a few days tomorrow, but I thought before I left I'd share the latest bit of writing on the Script Treatment.  I'd like you to meet the figure I'm calling the 'Harrowed Man':

David wakes fitfully from a dream in which his wife was screaming at him and his son was sobbing hysterically.  As he comes to in his dark bedroom the sound of his son sobbing begins again; David calls out to his son repeatedly until the sobbing stops.  He sits up at the side of his bed, still coming out of sleep, before being jolted by the sound of his son’s bedroom door slamming.  Then there are the light footsteps of a child running along the hall in to the bathroom.  David leans forward, peering out of the doorway in to the darkness of the hall, unable to see anything.

Then there is a sound of breaking glass in the bathroom, and his son begins crying again.  David stands, calls for his son – “it’s okay, Daddy is here, it’s ok” – then warily makes his way down the corridor.  As he nears the doorway of the bathroom he notices fragments of broken mirror glistening on the floor.

He reaches the door of the bathroom, and his son stops crying.  He reaches for the light, hesitating for a moment before switching it on.  When the light comes on, the ‘Harrowed Man’ is stood in front of him in the bathroom, barely a foot away.

The Harrowed Man is tall, deathly thin with ribs showing through skin that is lifeless and marked with scars and bruising.  Rope-like twists of scarring snake along his flesh, red and brown, over his body, disfiguring the skin wherever they cross.  His face is like an emaciated corpse, the lips split back in a hateful sneer; his white, cataract-filled eyes glaring hatefully out of dark, lidless pits.  His is a face that exudes death, hatred and anger.

David gasps and recoils in shock, seemingly frozen where he stands.

Then the Harrowed Man lunges forward, shoving David, sending him tumbling violently down the stairs.

It's not his first appearance in the script, but it was the first time he made an appearance in my head, so to speak! I've been writing other parts to the treatment too, and will post some excerpts at a later date.  Until then, thanks for reading!

The Most Relentlessly Awesome Films Ever: Aliens

So, as promised, here is the first of my articles about films that I love:

THE MOST RELENTLESSLY AWESOME FILMS, EVER - PART ONE

'ALIENS' (1986)

'This Time, It's War...'

I'm going to come right out and make a very bold statement:  I seriously believe there is a case to be made that this film is THE Greatest Movie of the 1980's.  I'll state why below, but I think I should acknowledge that as I write the 1980's are a period very much on everyone's minds at the moment following the death of one of the key figures of that era, Margaret Thatcher.  Her politics define that era (for good and bad), and in many ways there are echoes of this in 'Aliens': privatisation, corporate greed over-looking communities, military interventions...  This movie is very much of its time - a bold reflection of it - but at the same time it peels back the skin and isn't afraid to comment on the ills beneath.  While it has the same gung-ho attitude of many action films of the era - and of leading politicians - it also subverts and often challenges them.

But this film is not just great because of the sub-text: it is a master-work of character writing, production design, atmosphere, tension and edge-of-your-seat action.  I first saw this movie when I was 10, and it had a profound effect on me.  For a start, it was seriously cool - you had these awesome Colonial Marines running around with their kick-ass tech; these designs were enormously iconic, and it is hard to imagine that so many beloved Sci-fi settings, across so many platforms (movies, video games, collectable miniatures & games) would have existed without the Colonial Marines as their template.

Ripley and some 'Absolute Bad-asses'...

Next, this film really creeped me out.  The scenes when the Marines touched down on the seemingly abandoned colony (remember, this was in the days before the Special Edition, so there was no glimpse in to life on the colony prior to the infestation), with the evidence of the desperate and horrific battle that had taken place there, really fuelled my imagination.  Although you didn't see what happened to the colonists, the few suggestions of their battle for survival made it seem all the more terrifying.  This was a case of how movies can use the power of suggestion to make something all the more frightening (and as 2011's 'The Thing' Prequel proved, sometimes imagining how an horrific event occurred is actually more frightening than seeing it).  And this is before you even get to the Aliens themselves, and their nests!

Finally, despite Sigourney Weaver's misgivings about the amount of gunplay in the movie, Ripley in this movie is one of my all-time favourite action heroes.  At a time when Schwarzenegger, Stallone et al were taking on entire armies armed with usually nothing more than their muscles and a knife, Ripley seemed the greatest of all of them - more determined, more driven, and tougher somehow.  The fact that she went in to the Alien's nest on her own, with none of the Military Training of the Marines, despite her fear of the Xenomorphs, just made her seem all the more heroic.  The fact she was a woman was kind of secondary; some people look at other kick-ass action women in some films as a bit of a gimmick, or debate whether there are enough empowering roles for women in those kinds of films.  Because of Ripley in this film, I've never seen female action heroes in neither way - I've always been able to accept them without a second thought, and that is because Ripley was such a great character in 'Aliens' that the fact she's a woman is not an obstacle to accepting her as an action hero.  In fact, it's arguable her gender brings another level to it, which I'll discuss later.

So aside from the fact that this is a highly regarded movie, widely lauded as one of the best sequels of all time - and a damn classic film in it's own right - what is it that would justify my claim of it being The Greatest Movie of its decade?  I think it's down to it being very much in the vein of prevalent action movie ideals of the era, but at the same time rising above (most) stereotypes and even managing to cast a critical (perhaps even satirical) eye over these and the politics of the period.

To start with, let's look at the Colonial Marines themselves.  These men and women would not have been out of place in pretty much any other '80's action-fest - they'd stand shoulder to shoulder with the likes of Rambo or John Matrix, and more than hold their own.  'Grunts' though they were, the script and acting allowed each to have their own distinct character and personality, regardless of screen time.  And, man, they had quality scripting - these soldiers remain amongst the most endlessly quotable characters until this very day.  I've often thought that as well as 'Talk Like a Pirate' Day there should be 'Talk Like a Colonial Marine' Day!  It's this level of writing and characterisation which elevates these 'Grunts' from the usual cannon-fodder of these types of films.  Of course, some are more significant characters than others, but each one is an example of how a good script and acting can elevate even the smallest of characters/roles.

At the same time, there is a slight subversion of the gung-ho action hero - after their losses from the first confrontation with the Xenomorphs, the survivors are not the same as before, most notably Hudson who has a (in retrospect, slightly humorous) breakdown.  I think this is a reflection of what was happening in US Cinema at the time and the decade leading up to it, as films began to tentatively explore the Vietnam war, and its effects on those that fought in it.  Although some films in the '80's seemed to be hankering for a re-fight of this war, after a couple of more reflective films such as 'The Deer Hunter' in the '70's, after 'Aliens' the likes of 'Platoon', 'Full Metal Jacket' and 'Born on the Fourth of July' came along. Now, I'm not saying that 'Aliens' influenced or paved the way for these films - and it certainly didn't stop the continuation of macho blockbusters - but it is interesting that cinema audiences were open to more introspective takes on the war after 'Aliens'.

The interesting thing about James Cameron's movies is that he seems to have a dual fascination for the military (check out the toys he gave these Colonial Marines and the Military forces of Avatar), whilst at the same time being fearful and critical of what military leadership means. Despite their cool toys and hi-tech equipment, the Colonial Marines are easily taken down by the Xenomorphs - all whilst their commanding officer Gorman can only issue orders they can't hear or simply ignore.  A military resolution may have seemed like the best solution to this situation (and perhaps total extermination by nuke still is!), but it proved to be fatal.  This idea that military leadership and reliance on military can only lead to needless and ultimately costly confrontation is a recurrent theme of Cameron's, from 'The Terminator', through this, 'The Abyss', and most recently 'Avatar'.

The next subversion of the gung-ho action movies of the time is in Ripley herself; obviously, first of all, because in the era of steroidal he-men, the principal hero is actually a woman.  It's not so much this which makes her remarkable, it is her drive, determination and resilience - despite her obvious fears and vulnerability - in the final act which makes her an action hero who is more believable and relatable than almost every Stallone, Schwarzenegger or Lundgren character of that era.  Whilst some might critique Ripley in this film in terms of the feminine or maternal psyche, at the end of the day she is a grieving parent who has found an opportunity of redemption in the girl Newt.  If you're a parent I think you can relate to this, regardless of your gender.

'Get away from her, you BITCH!!!'

The other way that this movie both reflects, and subverts, one of the prevalent ideas of the time is the portrayal of growing Corporate influence and power of everyone's lives.  Right from the start of the film the privatisation of Space is abundantly apparent; the first lines mention 'The Company', there are corporate logos recurrent on the space station where Ripley convalesces, and all over the Colony on LV 426.  This background presence completely echoes what was happening in reality during that decade; there was an explosion of Privatisation, especially in the UK but in many other countries around the world also, as many industries were sold to be run by Corporations.  This did create opportunities for quite a few people become wealthy - however the downside was job losses in some areas, and a questioning of the ethics of many companies.

So in 'Aliens', the corporate sponsored colonisation and exploration of space provides opportunities for people to make money - it is, after all, a family of explorers, looking to stake a claim on a new discovery that inadvertently set off the events of the film.  However, just as Corporations are criticised for being monolithic, impersonal entities that put profits before people and environment, it is revealed that the 'discovery' was in fact orchestrated BY the Company.  In the decade where 'Greed was Good', this film demonstrates there is likely to be a human cost.  Corporate greed is given a face by Carter Burke, Weyland Yutani's representative, who would happily sacrifice Ripley, Newt and the military crew, to ensure he gets his financial bonus.  At this point the film perhaps becomes heavy handed with this subversion - but it reinforces at an individual level that this sort of financial greed can make people lose sight of the value of other human beings.  Greed is not always good...

There is one other reason why I think you can argue that this film is the greatest of its decade: I've entitled this series of articles 'The Most Relentlessly Awesome Films', and I think the first part of that statement completely fits this film.  It is relentlessly gripping, tense, and above all entertaining, right from the start.  If someone asked me what my favourite scene is in the film I honestly couldn't pick one, as continuously throughout the film there is something in pretty much every scene which is great: whether it is the script, the cast, the cinematography and lighting, the outstanding and iconic production design, the fantastic special effects work (which has by and large stood the test of time), the spot-on score which hits every beat from terror to heroism, there is always something to remark upon.

Briefly, which version do I prefer?  The extended Special Edition is more complete, giving more background to Ripley (making her attachment to Newt more understandable), and we get the iconic Sentry Guns sequence.  However the Theatrical, original version does not suffer for the cutting of these moments - it definitely gives the film more depth though, so as a fan I'd say I prefer the Special Edition.

So those are my thoughts on a truly great film.  I'll try and post one of these articles every month or 6 weeks.  I hope you've found it an interesting read, but most of all I hope it has inspired you to go back and revisit this masterpiece - or watch it for the first time if you've never seen it...

Coming soon: more stuff about, err, films...

While I'm talking about trying to write a Film, you'll have to excuse me indulging myself from time to time writing about films that I like.  Sometimes I'll write about films which have been a direct influence on the one I'm trying to write, in other cases I'll write about a film simply because I love it.

This will be an occasional detour from writing about what this blog's really about - but I think it's excusable as it's film related!  So at some point over the next few days I am going to post the first of an occasional series, which I will entitle (with no small amount of modesty and ultra-geeky hyperbole :D )...

'THE MOST RELENTLESSLY AWESOME FILMS, EVER.'

I’ll post the first of these soon, as well as some more ruminations on my own in-progress script (which, yes, I have actually been writing and working on!).  Come back soon for more!

When Horror Films get it wrong, #341: Wolf Creek

In a previous Blog post, I mentioned how with my Film Script I'm going to try to avoid the clichés and frequent problems which often crop up in Horror Films.  Here's an example of a case in point:

I've just been reading about the currently-in-production sequel to 2005 Australian Horror Film, 'Wolf Creek'. The sequel is going to be called - brace yourself for shock at the originality and creativity on display - 'Wolf Creek 2'. Seeing as I recently wrote about some of my inspirations for my own Horror Movie Script, and also mentioned some of what I was trying to avoid, I thought I'd briefly discuss Wolf Creek as an example of what annoys me about some horror movies, and as an example of the kind of things I'm going to try my hardest to avoid with my script.

If you've not seen this film, I should give a big SPOILERS!!! warning right now, as I'll discuss a significant plot point. Basically, the premise of the film is three young backpackers holidaying in the Australian Outback, who encounter a psychopath who kidnaps, tortures, and picks them off one-by-one. All cheery stuff!

Wolf Creek's psycho, Mick Taylor: 'Crocodile Dundee' parody, or just a tw*t?  My money's on the latter...

My problem with the film is when one of the victims, having previously managed to escape from said psycho, ends up back at his base camp, knowing he is most likely trailing her.

Now, before I go further, I just want to do a little intelligence test with you, my dear readers:

If you were being pursued by a homicidal maniac, which of the two places would you choose to hide in:

a) somewhere full of weaponry, so you can arm yourself and blow the bastard's head off when he comes near you; or

b) somewhere where there are more places you could count where he could sneak up on you, so is 100% guaranteed to catch you and murder you in a significantly unpleasant way?

Now, I'm assuming any normal, sane person of average intelligence would answer a resounding 'A!'.

The problem is, the whoever wrote Wolf Creek seems to think people are in some way inherently stupid, as they had their characters do the second option. Having already established that the psycho has a shack which has more weaponry stored in it than your average American Survivalist gun-nut, in Wolf Creek the victim stated above chooses to hide in a different shack - one full of cars and other items, apparently belonging to the psychopaths previous victims.

There is absolutely no reason why a rational person would make the choice the writers of Wolf Creek had this victim make; I appreciate that when someone is frightened they will more than likely not be thinking entirely rationally, but in this case the only reason for this decision seems to me about simply making a plot point: 'Look! This nasty psychopath has been killing people for years because he's in the middle of nowhere - and he'll keep on doing it because no one can find him!!!1!one'

I'm sorry, but it is lazy, unimaginative story telling of the lowest order: having a character make an illogical decision for no other reason than the writers wanted to make a point about the movie's antagonist.

Now, I'm not saying that the writers SHOULDN'T have sought to make this point about the main antagonist - it clearly reinforces what an evil bastard he is. I really believe that they could have done so in a much better way, at a different point in the film.

I think this example underlines for me a problem horror movies often have - making people do dumb things just to keep the story going. These have been pointed out and parodied in the likes of 'Scream', but still horror movies keep making their protagonists do daft things. There's a difference between a person doing something dumb because they're scared and not thinking straight, and doing something just to keep a film going.

I'm sure anyone being pursued by a homicidal psychopath would choose to blow the fooker's head off if it meant being able to get away..! I know I would, in anycase. Or maybe that's just the way that I think... :-D

So. It begins...

I hope you've had a good Easter - I've now come down with something approaching man-flu which is not great.  Anyway, I had intended to post this last week but ran out of time.  But here is a first draft of the opening scene from the treatment I'm working on.

A secluded rural road, shrouded in fog, and silent. The bare branches of trees reach out like ghostly, skeletal fingers as a man, David, runs past. His breathing is frantic, each one like a short sob. This and his footsteps are the only sound, until indistinct noises begin to filter through the mist: the hum of an engine, voices on radios. The mist begins to glow with flashes of blue and orange.

The mist begins to part as David approaches the scene of an accident; police cars, a fire engine, ambulances. Emergency service personnel move around the scene. A thin barrier of Police tape surrounds it. David shouts in anguish, and tears through the barrier - a Police officer steps forward, arm outstretched to stop him. "That's my family!" David shouts, pushing the Officer's arm away, then he weaves through the other people at the scene.

Ahead, as the road bends steeply, a wooden fence has been smashed, the earth in between churned by tyre tracks. As David reaches the fence, there is a steep bank leading down in to woods. Several meters down this, resting against a tree, is a badly damaged car, being tended to by emergency service personnel. As he sees this David hesitates, then suddenly a Fire Fighter attempts to restrain him, telling him he can't go down there. David turns to the Fire Fighter, his eyes frantic and pleading - "That's my car - that's my family!" The Fire Fighter loosens his grip, and David turns and stumbles down the slope.

As he nears the car he begins to call the name of his wife, each time more desperate than the last. As he reaches the car a paramedic stops him. "I'm very sorry... there was nothing we could do." David is about to break down. He starts to call out his son's name, at first hopefully, then desperately. He runs past the paramedic, to the back of the car, and as he looks in the broken window he stops in horror. His 3-year old son is motionless in his child seat, bruising and blood on his face. David begins to weep his son's name. He falls to his knees, grabbing the door of the car to steady himself, his head level with his son's. He begins to weep uncontrollably. After a few moments he looks up at his son, whose eyes are now open and staring at him. David says his son's name, like it is a question - are you really alive? The boy answers:

"You killed me, daddy."

David opens his eyes. It is night, and he is in a bed, in hospital. He sits up, and awkwardly moves an arm covered in plaster to rub his eyes. He looks around at the dimly lit ward in which he is recovering, in which he is alone. He then puts his head in his hands and begins to weep silently.

Names are place holders, and this will be re-written, but I feel like I'm off to a start with it now.  Thanks for reading.