Nuts4R2 Reviews Woody Allen's Midnight In Paris

We’ll Always Have Paris! Midnight In Paris 2011 Spain/USA Directed by Woody Allen Screening at UK cinemas. Warning: Spoilers abound in this review. I don’t often get to see Woody Allen films these days but, when I was a kid and then a teen, he was one of my heroes. Stardust Memories was one of my favourite of his movies, although I loved the majority of his work (including his “early funny ones”) and I also liked to listen to his stand up material. These days I don’t get to see his work much because, frankly, it usually only appears on local cinema screens for one week over here in the UK if you’re lucky, if at all. For Midnight In Paris, I’d missed the week it did at my local cinema but travelled into the heart of London to catch it down there while it was still around. Midnight In Paris belongs in Woody’s slightly more outrageous “fantasy” work if I had to try to place it or position it with any of his other movies. It’s like the plays he was writing in the 60s and 70s which had a certain fantasy element which the audience really needs to buy into and suspend disbelief with. These movies are now more prominent within his body of work but I guess he started this kind of fantasy cinema with his movie The Purple Rose Of Cairo and it’s very much a signature of his more wilder flights of fancy that he tends not to be at all interested in the mechanics which make his fantasies work on screen (or whatever venue they are in - stage play at the theatre, script in a book) and some younger audiences these days, who seem to be obsessed with the intricate plot devices to make their fantasy worlds more “believable”, may have trouble with this fact. For me though, it’s always a breath of fresh air that Allen doesn’t bother to explain his worlds... you just have to accept them or not and move on. Midnight In Paris is a case in point. The film stars Owen Wilson as Gil, a struggling writer who is about to marry his sweetheart but, as you will probably guess from the earliest stages of this film, he’s going to be left seriously questioning that relationship before long. While on holiday in Paris he finds a portal to the past, whereby if he waits at midnight in a certain spot, a car will arrive for him and whisk him away for a few hours back in time to 1920s Paris where he falls in with the likes of Hemingway, Gertrude Stein, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Cole Porter etc. Hanging out with the literary set gives him the confidence he needs as a writer and, when he falls in love with Pablo Picasso’s latest lover, played by Marion Cotillard, he realises that he can’t continue on with his headlong rush into marriage (especially after Hemingway clues him up that his fiance is having an affair). After he and his new 1920’s sweetheart travel back in time to meet Toulouse-Lautrec, and he sees the effect this has on her, he also finally sees that he can’t live his life in the past and that the present is always somebody else’s golden age and that he needs to live in it while it’s here. As usual with a Woody Allen film, the direction, cinematography, script, performances and general execution of this production are all top notch and I wouldn’t expect anything less from this genius of contemporary American cinema. Woody Allen is one of the true artists of film and, while it’s easy to forget his genius due to the lack of exposure his films tend to get these days, it’s still a basic truth that the brush strokes he paints his celluloid canvass with are as relevant today as they always have been. And the strength and truth of his work is not something which can be brushed off lightly, even though his films usually have an intrinsic lightness or fluffiness in their demeanour (if not their subtext). And frankly, you’ve got to love any film where the main protagonist hangs out in a bar with young Man Ray, Bunuel and a rhinoceros obsessed Salvador Dali (in a great little cameo by Adrien Brody) and then, when he later meets up with Bunuel again, gives him the idea for The Exterminating Angel. What a great little film this latest slice of Woody Allen’s brain turned out to be. I’m so glad I made the trip into London to see it... and I’ll definitely be picking this one up on DVD and giving it another watch next year. Great movie. Nice idea. Treat yourself to an hour or two in the company of the smart set of 1920’s Paris. A definite recommendation from this reviewer on this one! For more by Nuts4R2 please visit www.nuts4r2.blogspot.com

The Audition - Short Film - Stills

The Great Acting Blog: "Take Pride In Your Work"

I always take great delight in seeing a director's face light up because of something I have done. I don't mean the loathsome ass kissing which goes on, I'm talking about delivering a difficult moment such that it solves a problem the director could not previously articulate – this often leads to genuine relief and joy on the part of the director. I always try to fit myself into the mode of the production, even if it contradicts my own aesthetic - this is correct – the production is not for the actor to impose himself on and make bend to his will, rather he is there to serve it. The actor should never compete with a director, and always remain respectful, if there is disagreement then it should be handled privately. It's not the job of the actor to judge the director, it's the job of the actor to communicate the play to the audience. The director is the actor's boss, and has brought the actor in to deliver very specific goods within the overall production. Moreover, if an actor cannot keep his petty insecurities in check, then he should get lost – the actor who allows his neurotic fears to dominate his reason and make the rest of the group suffer is a despicable act of gross selfishness, and is singularly the most destructive thing I have ever witnessed within a company. As the saying goes: keep the drama in the play. We are living in a society which has infantilised it's citizens by enshrining “how you feel”, however, all good actors know that how you feel is unimportant, it's action that counts. Great actors are spiritual warriors, and exercise self-control. Ultimately, generosity toward those he is working with is an important quality for the actor to possess. The actor comes across many varied working cultures and working methods, and those actors who survive in the jungle are the ones who can adapt to changing circumstances quickly, infact, I have come to believe that this is how the quality of an actors talent should be measured, ie: his ability to function effectively in a diverse range of situations. The actor then, needs to be adaptable.

However, it is important that the actor take a break from adapting to the modes and cultures of other peoples' productions, and produce his own. I've written before how an actor can understand his own work better and come to define his own aesthetic by producing his own stuff (and therefore function better on other peoples' stuff), however, I also think he should take time out periodically to do this, a sort of creative pit-stop, a chance to tend to the core which is present in all his work. Writing, directing and acting in his own productions can give the actor a crystal clear view of his work, he will be applying his own aesthetic from top to bottom, and so can see what's changed in his work, where any kinks may have developed and iron them out, what needs to be improved, what has improved. Producing one's own work means working with actors and crew, which provides a test of whether the ideas behind the work can be communicated to other people. Personally speaking, I find directing other actors is an especially useful task because it forces me to articulate my thoughts about the script in simple, actable terms (the way I would want to be directed), which also functions as a confirmation of my own working methods. Explaining what I think to other people is a very good bullshit test too, because if I cant explain it to another such that they understand it, then I don't know what I'm talking about. Furthermore, these explanations must be practically useful to the listener when in the field, pretty theories are useless in the rehearsal room. The pressure which comes with taking responsibility overall for a production then, keeps you honest because other people are relying on you to help them do their job well, this humbles, and helps to shake off the crust of decadence which may have formed while working on other peoples' productions, where the actor is responsible for himself only, and need not concern himself with the minutiae of production (where even finding the right prop can turn into a major endeavour). Accountability is the thing, there is no place to hide, there can be no excuses, that work up on the screen or on the stage is undeniably yours, the totality of it this time, not only your performance. You set the standard, how you perform sends out a message to those around you, a message about the work in hand, about your work generally, and about how you think it should be done. Accomplish a standard which is high enough to keep the idealism of those who decided to collaborate with you intact, and hopefully then, they will want to see your face light up by solving a difficult problem – this happens when we work on something we're proud of.

 

Taking time out to repair, renew and improve, is taking pride in your work.

Trailer For Terence Davies' The Deep Blue Sea

XIX PLUS CAMERIMAGE WILL HOST A RETROSPECTIVE OF FILMS BY HAL HARTLEY

XIX PLUS CAMERIMAGE WILL HOST A RETROSPECTIVE OF FILMS BY HAL HARTLEY

Charles Laughton In Ernst Lubitsch's If I Had A Million - The Clerk

The Great Acting Blog: "The Audition, A Tradegy Of Manners"

So I suddenly find myself preparing for my next short film, “The Audition”, which is about an actor, Tony Wallis, who is being seen for a play, but every time he starts to read the script, the director cuts him off after the first line, and corrects his reading by demonstrating how the line should be said, then repeating back to Tony how he was saying it, thus hi-lighting the difference between the two. The trouble is, Tony can discern no difference between the way the director says it and the way he says it – indeed, there is no difference, both versions are identical. However, instead of pointing out that there is no difference, the actor goes along with it in order to get the director to like him and show that he is a good actor (as he thinks the director might see it), and each time the director interjects and corrects the actor's rendition, the actor berates himself more forcefully*. So, Tony Wallis gets himself into a pickle by engaging in hypocrisy, by lying, which ends up, as it so often does for the hypocrite, in humiliation, which is followed by despair if one is predisposed to truthful reflection, and a vow to never let it happen again. The one not predisposed to truthful reflection, will repress the lie and learn to love the lie, so much so infact, that they begin to think it the truth – yes, that's right, they become a hack.

 

The Audition is a classically structured tragedy (ie – the protagonist causes his own downfall by the choices he makes, he is the cause of the plague on Thebes as it were), I may even describe it as a “tragedy of manners” if such a thing exists. It's an usual script in the sense that the objectives of each character appear, on the surface, to be complimentary, as oppose to conflicting, the Interviewer wants Tony Wallis to be the perfect actor for the role, and Tony wants to show the Interviewer that he is perfect for the role, and so both spend the film trying to please eachother in this way – however, rather than address eachother directly, they conduct a sort of séance of delicate etiquette, the scene even ends with them thanking eachother, professional niceties, and, perhaps, broader social codes, are maintained at all times. Having said that, the Interviewer possesses a specifically English (as oppose to British) upper-middle-class viciousness, a passive-aggression, which is typically masqued by charm and good manners, it looks like helpfulness but is infact denigration. There are many examples of this in The Audition, as on one occasion where the Interviewer interrupts Tony's reading of the script by offering him a glass of water when Tony's throat does not appear to be dry – a very subtle put down of the actor. However, there is very little Tony can do about this, except to stay professional and fume internally. If he had said something back to the Interviewer, debrief with agent would be interesting:

 

Agent: “he's a well respected theatre director, why an EARTH did you tell him to go fuck himself?”

Actor: “well, for starters, he offered me a glass of water....”

 

Seek your own good opinion of yourself. Stick to your own personal truth as you would do in a performance. If pleasing another means lying, then refrain. It's about being self-reliant which means validating yourself as an artist, not looking for others to do it for you. This requires strength and having the courage to draw your own conclusions. It's folly to think that everyone you meet will have honorable intentions, just as it's destructive to think that there are no honorable people out there. Learn to tell the difference and act accordingly. But never the spit the dummy. Hopefully then, every encounter, good or bad, will make you stronger, and you will avoid the vile fate of self-betrayal, as befalls our actor, Tony Wallis.

 

*as Elia Kazan told us, the emotion increases in proportion to the actor's failure to accomplish his objective.