In Defence of Kick-Ass... Not that it needs it.

The latest film to leave a trail of disgruntled Daily Mail readers in its wake (Their review carried the discreet headline “Don't be fooled by the hype: This crime against cinema is twisted, cynical, and revels in the abuse of childhood”) is Kick-Ass and although at points it may seem to be recklessly breaking taboos for laughs, what its critics may find even more disturbing is that this film has its finger frighteningly close to the pulse of contemporary youth culture.

Firstly I want to say that I did not care much for the films protagonist Dave Lizewski, who is played competently enough by Aaron Johnson but, in trying to create a teenage everyman the writers have come up with a character of very little substance. Perhaps this is so that, as seems to be the case in the Twilight series, the teenage audience can then graft themselves onto this nonspecific central character but Dave seems distant and difficult to identify with.
The real star of this show and, maybe even for the same reasons, the source of most of the films controversy, is Hit Girl, played by Chloë Grace Moretz. Fighting alongside her father Damon Macready, pseudonym Big Daddy (an unusually enjoyable performance from Nicholas Cage) the 11 year old slices and dices her way through the criminal underground, spouting a foul-mouthed tirade against her adversaries along the way. I’ll address the violence in this film first before I get to the language, which I think is more important here.

You would hope everyone knew by now that people could enjoy violence on screen without going out and killing all their friends as soon as the credits roll. Still it is an issue and even more so here as it is a child handing out, as well as receiving, the poundings. “Do we really want to live, for instance, in a culture when the torture and killing of a James Bulger or Damilola Taylor is re-enacted by child actors for laughs?” says the Daily Mail critic reviewing the film, in absolute seriousness. I think that, as far as Hit Girl is concerned, this film is fantasy. Her fight scenes are devastating but also heavily CGI-laden as she performs acrobatic stunts that could never be expected from a girl her age. Likewise when she is shot by her father, you could never compare that to say, the harrowing scenes of child shootings in City of God, as taken in context of the film this is actually an ironic twist on the fathers overprotective care of his daughter, ensuring she knows how to use a bulletproof vest.

Next, the language and her soon to be legendary one-liner "OK, you c*nts, let's see what you can do now." This is where the writing of the film really excels. Whereas some might see this as being controversial for the sake of it I think I think it actually demonstrates how the parameters of acceptable language have changed. Later on in the film, for instance, Dave and his love interest, rather than say “I love you”, say “I really care about you”, a comment on the fact that for youth of today “love”, like “c*nt” may have become something of an empty word. Although you wouldn’t want to her a child speak like Hit Girl in real life, here it’s ok because it’s a film, remember?

Sometimes I feel a bit like one of those chimps put in front of a mirror to see whether it can recognise itself or not. It is a sad fact that some people, generally older than myself, still seem to think that the youth of today are unable to differentiate between reality and what they see on screen. 4/5.

Wild Grass Trailer

This looks interesting. A surrealist love story, perhaps in the same vein as Paul Thomas Anderson's divisive film Punch-Drunk Love?

Erykah Badu: Misplaced Controversy?

The music video for Erykah Badu’s latest single ‘Window Seat’ has kicked up a little controversy in the States over the past week. Perhaps I’m not looking at it from an American perspective but I can’t really see why.

The cause for concern is that in the video she is followed on camera as she retraces the route taken by John F. Kennedy’s convoy around Dealy Plaza, Dallas, leading up to where he was shot, whilst simultaneously removing all her clothes. The meaning of this is not entirely clear and perhaps it is not meant to be but the connection with the assassination is made obvious: the video begins with the radio commentary of Kennedy’s last moments and ends with Badu herself seeming to be shot in the exact same spot as the late president.

Predictably, some have reacted sensitively to this potent yet perplexing visual statement but I would argue that, appreciating it for what it is, a music video, this signifies a step backwards in Badu’s work, and is far less controversial for it.

Her last album, New Amerykah Part One (4^th World War), simply astonished. A singer previously known for her beautiful yet hardly gound-breaking ‘neo-soul’ introspections on life and love released a record that was hypnotic, funky and harrowing, all at once. Pairing experimental production from the likes of Madilb and Sa-Ra Creative Partner’s with her explosive poetry on the state of the nation, with particular withering attention to the Bush administration, it was an album of the decade.

‘Window Seat’, the lead single from her latest album New Amerykah Part Two (Return of the Ankh), despite showing Badu’s ability in making great soul music, lacks the power of the songs from her preceding album. It actually sounds like it could have come straight from her first album Baduizm, recorded in 1997. Perhaps since Obama came to power the anger that fuelled Part One has eased off a little, the implicit yet unclear political message in the video compensating for its absence in the song. Although a glorious track it doesn’t convince after hearing the command of her last album.

A full review of her new album New Amerykah Part Two (Return of the Ankh) will be posted soon.

     

Shutter Island: Submerged in fog.

In the opening scene of Martin Scorsese’s latest offering, we encounter U.S. Marshals Teddy Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Chuck Aule (Mark Ruffalo) travelling by boat, staring out across the water as their destination, this eponymous isle, drifts into view. “All I know is it's a mental hospital” remarks Chuck, “ ...for the criminally insane” adds Teddy, mysteriously. This is what this homage to the psychological thrillers of the 1950’s, and particularly those by Alfred Hitchcock, does best: create an ominous, shadowy atmosphere. Scorsese has a deft directorial touch which, as in all his films, is apparent here. The attention to detail used in recreating the tone of this particular epoch in film is certainly impressive. Unfortunately it never really moves onwards from there, almost as if all the energy in the film was focused on mastering that effect whilst other aspects fell by the wayside, minor aspects like the plot.

What makes Hitchcock’s thrillers so suspenseful, outside the innovation of his directing, is their profound psychological impact. His characters often have the potential to astonish and horrify an audience and draw empathy from them simultaneously. From the perversity exhibited in Vertigo and Psycho, to the more psychoanalytical perspective of Spellbound and Marnie, these stories are disturbing because their singular characters test the extremities of human nature, which will always keep us guessing. Shutter Island is badly missing this vital component. Without the psychological foundations, the clever directing amounts to very little. Watching the film I felt like I was grasping at thin air. Its mystifying atmosphere soon becomes irritatingly fuzzy, rather than a mystery story that draws you in, it becomes a string of vague notions, punctuated by the odd clue hinting towards the films inevitable twist ending with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. DiCaprio fails to convince as a man fighting for his own sanity. I have yet to be persuaded by his instatement as Scorsese’s latest muse; this role would have been a particularly effective showcase for DeNiro’s terrifying edge. Adding to the inescapable vagueness of Shutter Island is the generic and caricatured portrayal of mental illness. It might well be the 1950’s but I doubt patients would be kept in dingy, dungeon-like cells. The films of Hitchcock, which were actually filmed in this period, are no way near as dumbed down. Whereas he gave insight into the psychological particulars of his characters, here it seems that most of the island’s inhabitants are just suffering from a case of the crazies. Scorsese has achieved one lobotomy too many with this film; I left the cinema with my brain completely disengaged. 2/5