Don't waste your time on this one. It's been put together by partisan Menzies admirers. The fool spent the build up to world war II pretending he could usurp Churchill as PM and naively thinking Churchill would choose to defend the outpost of empire. Menzies, born in Australia, was a craven Anglophile who called Ol' Blighty "home". Yet according to this doco this is testimony to him being a "man of his time". Man out of time who would be dumped as an idiot on his return to Australia. Production values are high, and there is novelty appeal in use of actual amateur film shot by Menzies during his adventure, interspersed by dramatization of the events, which are again while convincing, are too sympathetic to Menzies to be taken seriously. This doco rewrites history and turns the truth into a travesty. Steer clear.
Reviews
7 Reviews
Violent Rome
(1975)
Spectaccollissimo
13 February 2007
This is cheap and nasty film making at its best/worst. Sensational, kamikaziesque car chase sequences featuring Fiat 500s are the highlight of this marvelous time capsule from a raunchier, less precious era. Rome in the mid-70s looks grungy, edgy, poor and downbeat -- the perfect backdrop for this "Spaghetti Noir" homage to Eastwood's Inspector Callahan. The Foley-guy goes crazy during laughably excessive fight sequences, each blow delivered with an sickeningly unreal aural crunch. All manner of brutality is explored without shame or pity; no victim is too vulnerable - from aging female bystanders, to the wheelchair-bound. The acting is by turns wooden and hysterical, the extras either homicidal maniacs or their hapless victims. But the real highlights are the car chases, "exhilarating" doesn't do it justice. "Suicidal" comes close. Then again, having lived here for the past couple of years, it could be just another day in Roma traffic.
The Order
(2003)
maudlin, morbid and unconvincing
7 February 2005
I tried to give this film a go twice and fell asleep both times. "Heef" broods and smolders and has a few scenes of herculean theatrics but is otherwise AWOL. The female lead (can't be bothered remembering her name)is given so little to do she should hand back her fee. So should writer, directer and producer Brian Helgeland. Can this be the same man who scripted "LA Confidential" and Mystic River? Clearly a labor of love, a pet project he'd had in the bottom draw since high school. The problem is it remains very difficult to actually suspend disbelief. The opening credit sequence is a portent of things to come... a man is cycling round Rome yet the journey he takes bears no resemblance whatsoever to the actual layout of Rome. Surely anyone that's been or lived in Rome would notice immediately? A minor point, granted, but emblematic. They splash some cash around for SFX here and there, but as for great moments in casting as Peter Weller playing a fedora-wearing, chain-smoking wannabe Pope? Leave it out! About as convincing as a botched nose job.
Kill Bill: Vol. 2
(2004)
Death is a cheap stunt played for amusment
3 February 2005
Warning: Spoilers
There's no trick to Kill Bill Volumes 1 & 2. Vol 1 presents slimly drawn characters engaged in a ballet of violence. Vol 2 gives their back story. That's some genius, I'll say.
I have serious problems with the pivotal conceit of the Bride's character (here's the spoiler): the moment she discovers she's pregnant is the moment she disavows violence. Huh? How come? Why should the fact that she has 'life' growing inside her suddenly turn 'life' into something to now cherish and respect? Is she just selfish, or self-obsessed? Why is a fetus any more valuable than any of the lives she snuffed out as a paid assassin? Truth is this film has no respect for life of any sort. Murder is an occupation like any other. Killing is a calling. Death is a cheap stunt played for laughs or curious novelty. Dead babies are merely narrative triggers to go out and do more killing.
There are a few cheap laughs in Kill Bill Vol 2. There's some effective suspense and a bit of canny art direction here and there. The actors sure think they're making something worth putting in a hard day's work. The gaping holes in the plot and the zero plausibility don't seem to get the way of their dedication. Poor old David Carradine thinks this is the greatest opportunity of his entire career (so he says on the DVD marketing featurette). He needs to go back and watch Bergman's THE SERPENT'S EGG again. There's a film that knows about humanity's dark heart. It didn't need to pick it up third hand at a comic convention.
Watching this film is like being urinated on from a great height. I'm sad I've contributed to the maintenance of Tarantino's lifestyle. There's something anesthetizing about this film. It's got no soul, a dead heart, and constantly requiring shots of adrenalin to give the appearance of signs of life. Stylish it may be. Entertaining even. But in the end, it lacks the gravitas it so clearly craves. I SPIT ON YOUR GRAVE has more integrity. Go ahead. Waste a coupla hours and a coupla bucks. Who cares?
I have serious problems with the pivotal conceit of the Bride's character (here's the spoiler): the moment she discovers she's pregnant is the moment she disavows violence. Huh? How come? Why should the fact that she has 'life' growing inside her suddenly turn 'life' into something to now cherish and respect? Is she just selfish, or self-obsessed? Why is a fetus any more valuable than any of the lives she snuffed out as a paid assassin? Truth is this film has no respect for life of any sort. Murder is an occupation like any other. Killing is a calling. Death is a cheap stunt played for laughs or curious novelty. Dead babies are merely narrative triggers to go out and do more killing.
There are a few cheap laughs in Kill Bill Vol 2. There's some effective suspense and a bit of canny art direction here and there. The actors sure think they're making something worth putting in a hard day's work. The gaping holes in the plot and the zero plausibility don't seem to get the way of their dedication. Poor old David Carradine thinks this is the greatest opportunity of his entire career (so he says on the DVD marketing featurette). He needs to go back and watch Bergman's THE SERPENT'S EGG again. There's a film that knows about humanity's dark heart. It didn't need to pick it up third hand at a comic convention.
Watching this film is like being urinated on from a great height. I'm sad I've contributed to the maintenance of Tarantino's lifestyle. There's something anesthetizing about this film. It's got no soul, a dead heart, and constantly requiring shots of adrenalin to give the appearance of signs of life. Stylish it may be. Entertaining even. But in the end, it lacks the gravitas it so clearly craves. I SPIT ON YOUR GRAVE has more integrity. Go ahead. Waste a coupla hours and a coupla bucks. Who cares?
Open Range
(2003)
clichéd yet effective
2 February 2005
Better than average western, steadily-paced, subtly directed, acted with precision by a bunch of seasoned pros. Costner directs himself in the film's most pretentious performance, while all around him the supporting cast steal his limelight. Duvall and Gambon are exemplary as opposing, aging poles on the film's moral compass. OPEN RANGE is like Costner's Bush-era post-script to DANCES WITH WOLVES - no trace of political correctness is to be found, and while the film doffs its cap to "reality" - eg. the widespread use of immigrant accents and sets that look like they were built yesterday from fresh cut timber, because back then they literally were - ultimately this is just another excuse for fancy shootin', gratuitous gunplay in the name of replaying for the umpteenth time just how the west was won. Still, there are some powerful moments, and the movie remains engaging throughout. Costner says he elided all trace of Native Americans in the film because the frontier culture he was depicting had no place for them and could not countenance them. Fair enough, but in this film it is Costner's choice, and no else's, to erase the original custodians from their landscape. Out of sight out of mind. Worth renting, but this ain't no JOHNNY GUITAR.
Anything Else
(2003)
a sham of a farce of a travesty of two mockeries of a sham...
10 May 2004
What an utter disgrace. Does Allen even attend the cinema anymore? If he does it must be to watch endless re-runs of ANNIE HALL and MANHATTAN. It is completely irksome to hear Allen's obsolete values and tired routines spew forth from the mouths of young fogeys Biggs and Ricci. Ricci, Ricci, Ricci! What are you doing in this loser-land? Get a life. I can hear Biggs' agent now: "Look, Biggs baby, Ed Norton did a picture with Woody when he was on the way up, it's like being annointed by Manhattan royalty."
You have been warned. The man who made BANANAS should have quit while he was ahead. Today, in his dotage with not a decent joke left to parry, he suffers from runaway hubris and extreme nostalgia. Notice how the only films he acts in these days are his own?
This is an atrocity exhibition, an unholy bore. Try as I might I can't wash away the stain this film has left on my psyche. Actually, i've forgotten it already.
You have been warned. The man who made BANANAS should have quit while he was ahead. Today, in his dotage with not a decent joke left to parry, he suffers from runaway hubris and extreme nostalgia. Notice how the only films he acts in these days are his own?
This is an atrocity exhibition, an unholy bore. Try as I might I can't wash away the stain this film has left on my psyche. Actually, i've forgotten it already.
Santa Barbara
(1984–1993)
Dripping with irony, sincere as it comes
29 October 2003
Santa Barbara got me through a tough period in the late 1980s. For a while there it was the only thing i really looked forward to. Mason's rich sarcasm, Gina I's uncontrollable facial expressions, Gina II's bone structure, Eden's dreamy egotism, Kelly's bad luck, the coincidences, the overheard conversations, the misunderstandings that went on for weeks at a time, the laughter, the tears, the sorrow and the pity, the daily dose of hyperbole, hysteria and melodrama, the little bit of insanity in a sanitized world, that was Santa Barbara. It's been gone from our screens for years, in Australia at least, where i used to watch it. But it lives on in the backwaters of my mind, often resurfacing, at odd times, giving me solace in times of extreme absurdity. Thank you, Santa Barbara, I will never forget you.
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