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Alice In Wonderland

Alice in Wonderland, 2010. Tim Burton.
Mia Wasikowska
Johnny Depp
Helena Bonham Carter
Anne Hathaway

Last week gone I thought to myself: would it be possible to write a review of Burton’s latest without actually seeing the film? The release drew closer. I began to scan newspapers, magazines, the imagery of Alice in Wonderland was everywhere, as well as getting a fix from glossy entertainment bulletins. The chatter was beginning to build momentum as March 5th, the release date, drew closer. It appeared as though many journalists, reviews, bloggers and the usual general riff-raff, must have has the same thought as I and never went to the press screening. All articles seemed to follow a pre-determined review structure. Surely one of these misfits had seen the film? But maybe not. The Disney press release ran as good copy. And no journalist worth their salt dared lose favour with the mouse. All in all the reviews read as run-of-mill tripe. That can of shit I expected. I could have wrote without seeing the film; ‘Burton delivers his unique visual style yet again, Depp is superb’, etc. etc. etc.

A Burton film has become an event. We know nothing of the film but the little teasers we're feed to just keep us satisfied. The machine of Disney works the viewing public like a pusher works a junky. Supply is always on Disney’s terms. Disney build and plays with our expectations. Alice in Wonderland?.Burton? And with Johhny Depp? Then the stills of the cast are released. Depp as The Mad Hatter, Bonham Carter as The Red Queen. Visually it looks promising. The audiences are hooked. The very notion of a Burto-Depp collaboration is waged deep into the cultural conscious and it is only summer 2009.

A Burton film today is primarily sold on the expectation of the visual. But would he have achieved that ‘unique visual style’ without technological progress? Well, yes. He has already given us a range of films dated back to the 80s in both animation and real-time that carries his visual mark. We know he has a gifted imagination. However, what needs to be addressed is with the advances in digital, Burton has been able to push his creativity even further in ways I doubt he could have even imagined. It has allowed him to reinvent literary classics, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Alice in Wonderland, and portray them in a light that somehow seems fitting in the new cinema age of 3D. As a result it has got you and me parting with our cash at the multiplex and in return we get a fix of lights, shapes and colours. The studios love it. Burton, once regarded as box-office poison, has caved out his own niche and with an on-screen alter ego, Johnny Depp, bringing his characters to life how can a studio go wrong when a Burton film is seemingly a hot commodity

On the surface it has all the hallmarks of a lavish fantasy that only Burton could deliver from the pages of his imagination. Wonderland is an extremely simple story and in turn, disconnected and shallow. Visually you are there in Wonderland and so you can forgive the lack of consistency in storytelling, but does it meet expectations? Are we given the Alice in Wonderland that we were sold to back in 2009 when the Disney machine got its wheels greased and we began salivating at the prospect of such a film? Alice in Wonderland's publicity strategy built hype and excitement for the event till we were fit to explode come release day. These methods worked. Disney broke records for weekend takings but this is never in the interest of us the paying public. You can imagine a meeting between Mickey and Burton. ‘Right Tim’, Mickey would go, ‘We want to make Alice in Wonderland’ cram it full of all Carroll’s characters and make it… erm . . . Burtonesque’. Burton would then reply ‘what about the story?’ ‘Fuck the story!’ Micky would shout while slapping Tim around the face with a ream of hundred dollar bills, ‘BURTONESQUE!!! THAT’S HOW IT’S SOLD!!! But without the underlining dark elements after all, we are Disney’. As a result you come away feeling a little under-whelmed by the whole experience. You know you’ve just watched a Burton film but you have a gut instinct that there was something missing, a little cheated perhaps. Burton was originally reluctant to take up the directors’ chair with Disney and this, maybe, is an explanation to why the film seems so jaded in substance. Visually, it is Burton. The magical and weird forest for instance that been curves and undulating since Tim Burton started shooting films is there for all to see, but there is something missing, it is a lack of earnestness.

There is a certain darkness Burton contextualised in his work, which in turn gives the visuals a deeper meaning. Themes of innocence and sexuality are played around, and as a consequence watching Burton can often be a visceral engagement. But with Alice in Wonderland you are left a little disappointed. The film neglects to play around with the possibilities that Lewis Carroll’s work offers. I know I wanted to see what Burton's imagination could conjure up with such an original text, and what darker elements he could raise to the surface. Burton never dares to adventure into the darker complexities of the characters he offers up. Somehow, it feels like he is being held back, and so you are left with a feeling that the characters, such as the Mad Hatter, are somewhat under used and they tend to come off as mere narrative devices. Alice in Wonderland works on the bases of cultural assumptions. We are already familiar with the characters that inhabit Lewis Carroll’s novel and so Burton’s adaptation does not have to work as hard in establishing them in the context of his reinvention as it is all done on the assumption that the audience will know Alice, that we will all be familiar with the Mad Hatter and The Cheshire Cat, as we know these characters from our childhoods. They have manifested themselves into the cultural consciousness along with Robin Hood, Jack, from Jack and the Beanstork and The Seven Dwarfs. Burton more or less follows the same narrative cause and effect cues as the original. Right up to the ‘mad’ tea party. The tea party, if we remember correctly, where the Hatter was doomed eternally to spend forever more at 6pm, is completely bypassed. It is at this junction where the idea of the sequel comes into play. Though the method of cultural assumption does work, I feel that Burton could have done more in establishing characters in his version and giving them a firm grasp in his Wonderland. It is fair to say that if Alice is some fourteen years older surely the characters would have evolved in some way. These subsequent events in Wonderland are never really explained, allowing for absurd plot holes and somewhat whimsical connections to the original.

The narrative moves along fast. Before you know it Wonderland is over. Did you ever care about Wonderland under the tyranny of the Red Queen? No. Will you forget about this film? Yes. The story is revealed within the first twenty minutes and the rest of the film soon becomes a shooting gallery for Burton’s ‘unique visual style’. Even Disney’s The Frog Princess, a return to old school animation, had more twists and unexpected turns. The sheer lack of the unexpected in Wonderland is the film’s greatest irony, given what we were sold on with regards to it being a Burton film. We all bought the ticket with these fantastical expectations, and to be honest, let’s face it, we really couldn’t care what the story was going to be, but is it a reason patronise us? If the Red Queen recognises Alice from the scrolls, which also foretell the next sixty minutes, remarking ‘I would know that hair anywhere’ then why does she not recognise her in the flesh? Such holes are a little ridiculous and ultimately frustrating. The scrolls foretell that Alice is to slay the Jabberwocky and after much deliberation and soul searching, she does, and equilibrium is restored to Wonderland. Credits roll. Film is over. You walk out of screen where you are then accosted by a poster for Iron Man Two and you can feel the saliva building up in your mouth all over again.

After James Cameron’s 3D visual masterpiece we all lusted for more for trippy, psychedelic delights to push forward the new frontiers of a 3D movie going experience. Who else but Burton could possibly give it to us? So when Wonderland opened in 3D some of its weekend success must be credited to Avatar. It seems a shame to make comparisons to Avatar, but you can not help it since both were sold under the banner of 3D and have been released very close to each other. Avatar certainly sets the bench mark and frankly, Burton does not meet it. If I hadn’t seen Avatar maybe I would have been more inclined to believe in Burton’s 3D visual fest. I am not saying that visually Alice in Wonderland is not impressive, because it is, but unfortunately, in terms of cinematic spectacle, Cameron has certainly raised the bar and as paying movie goers, we now undoubtedly expect more in return.

Avatar is work of perfection. It has revealed that some methods in the 3D medium, whether that is within the sci-fi genre or the fantasy genre, work. For instance both Avatar and Alice in Wonderland use the location of a forest, spiritual and or mystical, to great effect as a way of highlighting the advantages when entering an audience into the 3D cinema experience. The similarities don't just end with the forest, both these films have a beast like creature that rampages through the Sylvanian scenes, thus maximising the visual. There is a striking difference in the use of colour. Avatar's colours were vivid and luminous, with a glow which really works on the eye, whereas Wonderland's colours are taken from the typical Burton pallet, and are a little darker. With Wonderland you are always aware you are watching a digital environment. You are never allowed to be totally submerged. Avatar, as a rule, rarely mixes real-time action with a digitally enhanced world. Whether you are with the characters in the lab or HQ, that’s where you are. Even when you are on-board one of the ships flying through the air, Pandora is viewed and framed within the windows of the ship. You are still in real-action. When you are on the ground in Pandora you visually situated in the digital world. As Alice advances through Wonderland you become all too aware of digital enhancements. She is shot in real-time, along with other characters, and so the computer wizardry is exposed and can be sometimes jarring. Even to the point where it seems that post-production has been sloppy. Eye-lines between Alice and the creatures are amiss. Actors seem to be missing their marks in the digital world of Wonderland. Neither Avatar nor Wonderland has credible stories, regardless of the fact you never actually were drawn to these films for an excellent story in the first place but Avatar does its job when it come to the visual illusion .

What is Alice in Wonderland once you get past the Disney diluted take on Burton version and the flawed narrative? What it boils down to, in my view, is a simple coming of age flick. Like the smoking caterpillar points out in both Carroll’s original and in Burton's take on Wonderland, Alice must come to terms with her insecurities and identity. When we first met Alice she is filled with uncertainty and finds the adult world, though full of Burton caricatures, is a somewhat dull and serious affair. She enters Wonderland, embarks on an odyssey, slays the Jabberwocky and re-emerges from Wonderland as a strong independent woman.


Finally, the cast assembled make watching the film enjoyable experience. Depp is more or less the harmless lunatic he has come to do so well in a Burton film. Depp's on screen chemistry with Helena Bonham Carter works well and is fun to watch as they bounce off each other. Depp does play the Mad Hatter with a sense of schizophrenia, but you are left wanting more, something of substance. Characters seems somewhat lost and forcefully packed into the story juts to allow Depp to have more screen time. Carter is the star of the film and delivers a fantastic performance. But this is no original portrayal, just think back to Black Adder II and Miranda Richardson’s superbly comic performance of Queenie and you'll be there - Carter’s mannerisms and style as the Red Queen can be directly attributed to Richardson. Notable performances include that of Matt Lucas, who will make you giggle every time he is on the screen. The digital executions of the The Cheshire Cat, voiced by Steven Fry, and Caterpillar, voiced by Alan Rickman, are just as cute. The Cheshire Cat especially, as he floats around the screen upside down and around and around, is an absolute joy.


So, this is an enjoyable film. But it is not a Burton film. It is a Disney film. There are certain elements missing to make it a Tim Burton film that are sadly not there. However, Burton and Depp are now middle-aged family men. Will their work become less overtly dark in nature and become family box-office friendly? Alice in Wonderland, as I am reminded, is a children’s film. ‘It is no Bronx Tale’. As a children film, no doubt aimed at Disney’s core demographic, I was left a little dissatisfied and let down from my original stand point of enthusiasm. But if you are a lover of Disney you’ll leave the cinema with a warm glow but maybe now is the time to graduate to Miramax.

Written By Siôn Thomas
Edited by William Andrews

Purgatory of Mrs Timmings, 2006. Sion Thomas Markham

This is a film I made back in 2006. Please rate and review.

Please note: This film have been compressed so as to upload, not true quality.



PURGATORY OF MRS TIMMINGS.
Written/directed Sion Thomas Markham 2006 16mm. 4mins
Mrs Timmings is alone in her self-contained world knits away. She waits and waits for the phone to ring. But if and when it does will she have the will and determination to answer the call. Or, is she Happy where she is, alone.

Sunshine, 1999. Istavàn Szabó.

Here is an essay from my Balkan cinema module from my Masters degree. Not to be mixed up with Danny Boyle Sunshine.

Starring Ralph Fiennes this is an excellent film taking the audience on a journey through brilliant story telling. Not to be mixed up with Danny Boyle's Sunshine.

A real bitter sweet.

Great film.



Sunshine, 1999. Istavàn Szabó.


Sunshine, with the use of Fabula spans three generations of the Jewish Sonnenschein family. Set in a Budapest society which is in constant flux. The spectator witnesses the demands that each regime places on Jewish identity and hence the individual’s need to assimilate; whether that is the monarchy of the Austro-Hungarian Empire or the two periods of totalitarianism- Fascism and Communism. Ralph Fiennes (Schindler's List 1993) plays grandfather, father and son of each respective social period. Each generational male, Isnàc, Adam and Ivàn struggles to adapt to the anxieties of each regime and so through their individual characterization the spectator witness their plight as they walk a tight line between heritage, patriotism and ideology. As Cunningham points out in his remarks on Hungarian cinema:

The crisis on national pride and identity after Trianon , however, exposed the structural and cultural weakness of the fractured and sometimes pseudo assimilatory process and ‘destroyed the historic pact between the ruling political class and the Hungarian Jew.

Sunshine feels a bit melodramatic and there is a sense that gaps are missing in its storytelling. But the intention of this discussion is to point out what strategies of cinema Szabó employs when addressing Sunshine’s themes. One narrative strategy is the use of reoccurrences in both Sjuzhet and Fabula. This technique draws attention to its self and in turn theme. Szabó uses Mise en Scène schemata that are full of visual interlocking codes which emphasis theme.

There are two visual motifs which are introduced early in the film. These patterns are highly representative and occur at significant moments within Sunshine’s text. Emmanuel Sonnenschein’s father dies in a distillery accident and as a consequence Emmanuel sets out to Budapest with his inheritance, a pocket watch and the family’s secret recipe. The recipe is a tonic known as ‘A Taste of Sunshine’. It goes without saying the tonic is an obvious and direct metaphor for the Sonnenschine family. The voice-over points out that Sunnenschine is German for Sunshine. What is important is how this narrative information is used within Sunshine’s context. The symbolism of the tonic conveys notions of the Jewish identity because of the link in names. Szabo uses this symbolism and manifests it throughout Sunshine’s chronological structure and this information is not only code for Jewish identity but by virtue of the film’s themes, a code for hidden Jewish identity. The recipe though not visually present for much of the film is referred to by name for a great deal of the film; Greta, Adam’s mistress, via hysterical dialog sees it as a means to escape. Emmanuel’s characterization is overtly Jewish and is the last of the Sunnenschine’s to know the recipe. His faith is his guide and ultimately he is free from assimilation which later generations are not. The tonic itself is the Fabula device that correlates to the Family fortunes. Fabula suggests it was the tonic that enabled the family to climb to the neo-middle classes of Hungary. In turn it also mirrors the family’s misfortune through History. It can be argued that during the Austro-Hungarian Empire before Isnàc, the agent of social assimilation, changes his name to ‘Sors’ the family is prosperous because of the tonic. The tonic becomes a metaphor of assimilated identity when it becomes apparent to the spectator that the recipe is missing as Isnàc story concludes. It then can be argued that there is a visual link between Emmanuel’s Jewish nature, the known recipe and the prosperity of the Sonnenschine family. Ivàn story, the fourth generation of Sonnenschine, is set within the period of Stalinism. Ivàn displays no overt Jewish traits. He is assimilated to the point where ideology takes total precedence over faith. The family is economically and socially ruined due to Communist policy. The reminding family share the last drop of tonic left. Still no one knows where the recipe is which indicated the assimilated Jew

Isnàc, Adam, and Ivàn Fabulas embodies notions of their ideology such as oppression. This tonic will almost arises at key moments of fundamental historical change which has a huge impact on their Jewish identity represented in the lost recipe. Contrast with Emmanuel relationship with the tonic. He knows where it is. This suggests an argument for the metaphoric use of the tonic, the use of the tonic as code for secret identity. Dragon points out in his musing on Istvàn Szabo:

It is quite conspicuous in the film that the ups and downs of the life of the Sunnenschins are always connected to the magic liqueur in some way. Thus when they are celebrating New Year’s Eve, the bliss comes with the tasting of Sunshine. Also when tragedy happens a bottle of Sunshine appears immediately

Sunshine conveys each generations desire to climb the social ladder and to be accepted by whatever ruling-class is in power. This tends to result in personal conflict. Isnàc desire to become a judge provokes him to freely assimilate. He warrants the change in surname. Isnàc cousin/wife Valerie and his brother Gusztàv also become Sors. Isnàc, on the right, believes in liberal tolerance that allows assimilation as opposed to Gustav who has strong left-wing views. Isnàc’s superiors believes there is Jewish / Socialist conspirers one of is which Gustav. This incites character conflict of their opposing ideologies, personifying the angst within the nation. As the State ideologically transforms as does the balance of power between the two characters representing the shifts of power in Hungary. When character ideological conflict begins to materialize between the two characters faith is mentioned as a curse. This may act as a reminder of their shared common identity however, as Isnàc story concludes faith plays no part; this can be inferred via the use of the framed picture of just the Emperor. Note the use of the stills. Isnàc has a photograph of both Emperor and Father in a prior scene. These photograph both take up priority at his desk and would suggest their symbolic meaning hold the same worth in Isnàc heart. The Nation first flirts with Communism and for the purpose of contextualization these developments in narrative signifiers the manifestation of assimilation; both men still squabble over left and right politics symbolically inferred by Mise en Scène. Isnàc only photograph, not of his father but of the Emperor.

The idea of Jewish conspirers is a theme which is ironically echoed in Ivàn story. In this respect Szabó makes the spectator very aware of visual motifs as he draws comparison between Monarchy and Communist Republic. These dogmas are polar opposites in theory but in practise their actions are identical. Szabó constructs two aesthetically different worlds. Language has devolved over time. During the Empire characters dialog is almost poetic but over time it morphs too a crude and affronting tone. Szabó comments:

My idea was in the beginning of the film that the language is like literature they use fine words, romantic lines, they know what literature is. The second story is more exact, not so rich and the third is vulgar even people in high positions use four letter words .

The café, which is highlighted in all three stories, morphs overtime from a refined establishment to a dilapidated café. It can be interpreted as apart of an aesthetically changing world. These observations maybe linked to Sunshine thematic text with regards to the use of narrative reoccurrence. Gustav is a doctor and a Communist; the healer of society. Characters careers can be incidentally represented as characterization of their ideological stance. Valerie is a photographer who, for all social woe, still sees beauty in life. Isnàc, Adam and Ivàn all have an association with the legal profession. This observation may infer as quest for balance (Faith and Ideology), think of Themis holding weighting scales. This method of reoccurrence brings thematic attention to the spectator and to the correlation of regimes. Times may change but ultimately policy will stay the same; as K’nore, (a father figure for Ivàn) remarks on these observations, Anti-Semitism. No new ideas, hence, the irony of repetition. Gustav was implicated as a Communist / Jewish conspirer during the Empire but as Fabula enfolds the Communists implicit Gustav in another plot. This highlights the failure of assimilation into a regime regardless of ones politics. Sunshine’s use of repetition can be best surmised in the two hunting party scenes of these two respective periods. Both Isnàc and Ivàn go hunting with the ruling-class and by proxy it can be inferred they are the same.

Isnàc concludes the failure of liberal tolerance; best deduced with the break out the Great War and with it the failure of assimilation. Adam’s and Ivàn, embody much the same problematic issues of proud Jewish patriotism and the trappings of self-adaptation. Both characters make grand speeches, narrative reoccurrences. These Speeches express a sense of patriotic loyalty to the State. But in turn both men fail total assimilation. Adam’s story, the period of the Hungarian Black Arrows , out the three is most disturbing. Szabó has captured the attitude of the Hungarian feeling toward the Jewish community:

Hence the seeming plausibility taken by the government that Hitler imposed on Hungary in March 1944, that the position that there was no feasible alternative to a partnership with Nazi Germany. And there is no denying that the masses implemented this logic with vigour: he workers henceforth worked harder, the soldiers fought hard and the general population applauded the extermination of the Jews .

Adam is never truly integrated. Converting to Catholicism does not divert attention form his Jewish roots. A mere caretaker can turn the lights out on national fencing champion. Sunshine visually puts the above quote into context. The Hungarian flag, at the 1936 Olympics, is raised when the teams wins gold. It looks small in comparison to the looming vivid red of an intimidating swastika that engulfs the Hungarian stripes. Adam’s story ends in harrowing fashion. Adam, the highly successful fencer, best represents the notion that the assimilated Jew was not a trusted part of society. This is a theme throughout Sunshine and what every generation endures. With every new regime is a fear of the successful and educated Jew. ‘In fact, it is probaley the case that assimilation only increased the sense of betrayal, the assimilated Jew being seen as more devious and treacherous than the non-assimilate’.

The characterization of Valerie is held to contrast to the symbolic representations of the three generations of the Fiennes characters and of Gustav. The family house is being cleared out in the final story. The only thing that reminds is a piano, a Mise en Scène symbol of Valerie. The spectator witnesses a child playing the films’ score on the piano. This score is played both as diegetic and non- diegetic throughout Sunshine. The spectator has also witnessed Valerie playing this piece along side Isnàc in the first story but also alongside Gustav in the third. This functions as visible character juxtaposition but also surmising the two repressed ideological males as similar and by deduction the similarities in the regime which they condone. Valerie is a photographer and wants to photograph what is beautiful in life. This theme of beauty is represents via schema codes which link to Valerie. Like the tonic the metaphor of Valerie is presence in all three stories; either as character or Mise en Scène. A photograph of Valerie surrounded by a courtyard in bloom is introduced early in the narrative. This is related to themes which Valerie personifies such as life, death, passion and nature. These thematic deductions personify the abstract Romantic notion of man which stands before God and his mighty creation:

Like the prophets of the Old Testament, the Romantic Dreamer possessed conviction that what he saw with his inner eye was reality and what he saw physical eyesight was mere semblance, a veil drawn from some inscrutable reason between him and eternity

The turn of the 20th century is marked by an open window as Valerie, a pregnant woman, needs air and snow rushes in. The next scene she is giving birth, heeding nature and life. Toward the end of her life she faints and again this is marked by a rush of snow through an open window, again, nature and death. Contextualization of Valerie is often held against the social pragmatic ideals embodied in the male characters within the films. In debate between the politically right, Isnàc, and the politically left Gustav the scene concludes with Valerie declaring that she wants to be a Wild Flower. This point surmises Valerie contextual function.

Her photograph becomes a powerful piece of Syuzhet, notably during Adam’s story arguably the darkest period. This story demands a counter weight such as the symbol of the beauty of life- Valerie. Ivàn finds Sonnenschein redemption and Isnàc keeps an idea of faith, whereas Adam commits himself totally to assimilation which can be inferred via his actions. He refers to Jewish people as disgusting. Blinded by his own patriotism he proclaims he fences for his country and not a regime. His patriotism is not to be confused with Fascist Nationalism. It is worth mentioning that this confused notion of being patriotic and assimilated while set against the pressures of social policy is evident in all three Fiennes incarnations. It is during the radio-broadcast of ‘Anti-Jewish laws of the 1930’s, the last of which in 1941 resembled the racist Nuremberg Law’. A powerful scene which conveys the futility of assimilation Szabó fuses history and Syuzhet. The photograph of Valerie is overtly used in this scene, more so in any other part of the film. There is nothing beautiful about this moment. On the contrary, Szabó camera, as it observes the assimilated family, is juxtaposed with the beauty symbolised in the photograph. It reminds the spectator of the stark contrast of events.

The composition of the photograph has Valerie sat in a courtyard in bloom. She is cradling her foot. Adam visits a museum in Berlin where an American warns him to leave the country before it is too late. Before this meeting he becomes fascinated with a statue not to dissimilar to the photograph of Valerie. It too cradles a foot. It is relatively fair to suggest a metaphor for Judaism. Gilman interpretation of Franz Kafka would propose:

Kafka’s feet increasingly prevent him from undertaking the strenuous physical activity that he needs to reform and transform his body, a hopeless task given the persistence of the Jew’s body. He writes, “The foot particular is enormously swollen- but is not very painful. It is well bandaged and will improve”. The physical foot may improve but Kafka’s symbolic foot will never. It represents the inability to be a man .

The idea of the weak assimilated male is amplified when but into context of this harrowing scene. The family believe there are exempt but events transpire in what can only be described as the most brutal example failed assimilation. Adam is murdered at the hands of Nazi genocide.

Significant observation to note, that both the photograph of Valerie and the statue are of the female form. ‘The display is then doubled (photo and sculpture), making the hidden mechanism more effective by producing uncanny spectacle with ambiguous meaning for the spectator’ . Even so, Couple these two interpretations of the characterization of Valerie (the opinion of passion) and the concept of Kafka’s Jewish foot thus provokes debate on the role of women and the illicit affair. The affair is another form of repetitive narrative strategy. Each affair takes on the same aesthetics shot in back rooms, low-light and heavy shadows. Each affair shares a common ancestral trait, Brother and Sister, Brother and Sister In-laws, Comrades in ideology. What can be assumed is that, bearing in mind the idea that the female personifies Romanticism, when the assimilated male commits to these affairs it is an attempted to embrace emotion and passion. ‘In a sense, incest should be seen here as here as a subversive force in the given context of its appearance, in the contextual order’
The Romanticized female is thus the antithesis of the ideological male. Ultimately, the assimilation male, whatever guise, is weak (Kafka’s foot) and unable to fully commit. Valerie and Gretta are raped (Gretta is raped by the state) when it becomes apparent that the male love is a fabrication and displaced on to their patriotism. Valerie wants a divorce provoked by Isnàc coldness and Adam is blind to events and will not leave Hungary. Isnàc proclaims he loves Valerie but rape is his final attempt to reclaim Valerie and the notions of Romanticism he has failed to embrace.

Ivàn affair does not follow this pattern. His affair begins in very much the same aesthetic manner and his mistress talks of love for him. However, for the purpose of narrative conclusion Ivàn must embrace his identity in effect find the coded notion of the lost recipe which he attempts. As it transpires the recipe is destroyed along with everything that accompanied the idea of hidden identity and assimilation, newspaper articles of the periods of totalitarianism. The only thing that reminds is a piano a symbol of Valerie. Ivàn finds redemption and becomes a Sonnenschein. In effect finds the true secret. Not the hidden code of the recipe, but, as Ivàn final voice-over states when referring to Valerie, ‘the gift of breathing freely’.

This paper has tried to examine the relationship between the political themes in which the film explores and the filmic methods in which it uses to do so. Ultimately this film is rich in meaning and is open to many interpretations.

Siôn Thomas Markham



A treaty put into place by the allies after Great War which establishes Hungary’s Boarders.
Cunningham, John, Hungarian Cinema from Coffee House to Multiplex. Wallflower Press. London, 2004. p173
Dragaon, Zoltàn, The Spectral Body Aspects of Istvàn Szabó. Cambridge Scholars Press. Cambridge, 2006. P75.
Kauffman, Anthony Kaffman, From the “peoples” Archives, www.indiewire.com/people/int
Goddess of Justice
The Hungarian Fascist party
Rothschild, Joseph + Wingfield, Nancy M. Return to Diversity, A Political History of East Central Europe since World War II. Oxford University press. Oxford + New York, 1989. p41
Cunningham, John, Hungarian Cinema from Coffee House to Multiplex. Wallflower Press. London, 2004. p173
Period of Art in the eighteenth Centaury.
Mumfold Jones, Howard, Revolution and Romanticism. The Belknap Press of Harvard university. Massachcsetts 1974. P397.
Wandycz, Pior S. The Price of Freedom, A Hisroy of East and Central Europe from the Middle Ages to the Presnt, 2n Edition. Routledge. NY. 1992. P217.
Gilman, Sander, Franz Kafka, The Jewish Patent. Routledge. NY. 1995. P107.
Dragaon, Zoltàn, The Spectral Body Aspects of Istvàn Szabó. Cambridge Scholars Press. Cambridge, 2006. P83.
Dragaon, Zoltàn, The Spectral Body Aspects of Istvàn Szabó. Cambridge Scholars Press. Cambridge, 2006.



Bibliography
Cunningham, John, Hungarian Cinema from Coffee House to Multiplex. Wallflower Press. London, 2004.

Dragaon, Zoltàn, The Spectral Body Aspects of Istvàn Szabó. Cambridge Scholars Press. Cambridge, 2006.

Gilman, Sander, Franz Kafka, The Jewish Patent. Routledge, NY. 1995.

Imre, Anikó, East European Cinemas. Routledge, NY. 2005.

Iordanova, Dina, Cinema of the other Europe. Wallflower Press. London, 2003.

Mumfold Jones, Howard, Revolution and Romanticism. The Belknap Press of Harvard University. Massachcsetts, 1974.

Rothschild, Joseph + Wingfield, Nancy M. Return to Diversity, A Political History of East Central Europe since World War II. Oxford University press. Oxford + New York, 1989.


Wandycz, Pior S. The Price of Freedom, A Hisroy of East and Central Europe from the Middle Ages to the Presnt, 2n Edition. Routledge. NY. 1992.

www.indiewire.com/people/int

37 Uses for a Dead Sheep, 2006. Ben Hopkins.

37 Uses for a Dead Sheep

Dir. Ben Hopkins, English/Turkish, 2006, 84mins, some subtitles Cast: Sereban Aslan, Suleyman Atanisev, Ismail Atilgan Review by Sion Thomas Markham 37 Uses for a Dead Sheep tells an endearing story centred around the Pamir Kirghiz people, a forced nomadic tribe driven out of their homeland of Ulupamir and chased across the Middle-East and Asia, due to the persecution of the communist in Soviet Russia and later Maoist China. They found sanctuary in the mountains of Afghanistan only to fall foul once again to the Soviet when they invaded the northern part of the country. They eventually found peace in a remote part of Turkey- but only after a strange run in with the "Men in Black", who offered to helicopter them into Alaska. Instead they chose Turkey, where they have the modern comforts of concrete housing - a far cry from the shacks of yesteryear. But now, as the tribe move into the 21st century, they face a new ideological enemy, an enemy which they cannot physically figh t- globalization. The tribe elders tell their story with character and heart, and of their desire to return to Ulupamir. Unfortunately, their youth do not feel the same kindership with Ulupamir and have a desire to flee else where - Istanbul. Ben Hopkins's approach to his subject is completely subtle and quite sweet. He uses both interview technique and reconstructive methods to bring to life the story/struggle of the Pamir people. Ultimately, he allows the tribe to tell their own story, thus Hopkins and his English/Turkish crew are merely a window, a medium for the tribe to convey to the world that they are still here! This work is not sensationalised nor played out with an undertone of wit. These methods normally pander to the audiences cravings to be entertained and thus talked down to, as a opposed to being educated and informed objectively - note Michael Moore's 2004 Fahrenheit 911 for example. On the contrary, Hopkins' documentary filmmaking is an objective and mature piece. It serves as both serious anthropogical study of a dying tribe and a secondary historical document told through primary sources. Hopkins takes us right into the heart of Pamir culture. For example, why yogurt is an integral part of their lifestyle which ultimately, I feel, is part of the underlining thread of the Pamir story. The yogurt, with other references in the context of the narrative, shows an underlining irony of the Pamir people, the fact that Soviet persecution has shaped and carved out the Pamir culture to a degree. I find this aspect, which has been explored within the film text, very interesting. There are traces of this ironic storytelling throughout and one of Hopkins' reconstructions of the tribes' people fighting of the Soviets has an air of Soviet Montage cinema. What I particularly thought made this documentary an accomplished piece is the profound sense of co-operation Hopkins receives from the Pamir tribe. One gets a sense that the tribe places absolute trust in Hopkins and his ability to tell objective truth as a filmmaker, even to the point where Hopkins is allowed to use the tribes' people in the reconstructions. This goes as far as the tribe's leader interacting with the filmmaking process as he too dresses up in fake moustache and period costume for a re-enactment. However, I did at times think the reconstructions were questionable as it fictionalises the story of the Pamir people. Through different methods of fiction filmmaking (soviet montage) it takes away the severity of the Pamir plight because he is telling these events not through the words of an elder in interview but through the memories and accounts and thus building his own fictional representation of past events. And as these reconstructions are told with good humour it again dilutes the truth. Also, there is no real attempt to explain why the Pamir people were persecuted under the Soviets, which is an extremely important part of their story. Instead, you get snap-shots into Pamir past-times, (dead goat polo springs to mind). At times, one might feel the story telling is too casual and lacklustre, but this is only a reflection of the elders attitude towards life as they reach their twilight years. However, other than these slight mumblings you can't really fault Hopkins's work. Where I think Hopkins really succeeds is in his conclusion which moved and slightly saddened me. The narrative thus far has taken us over mountains and deserts, but now we move into the 21st century and Hopkins takes us into the city of Istanbul. And it is in the city where the future lies for the Pamir tribe, and with the youth of the tribe. Objectively, Hopkins shows us two possible fates. The first - a young male who works in a leather sweat-shop, alienated from the tribe, humanity and thus a part of the global machine; and the second a young female who grew up in the mountains away from education but who now has a promising career in medicine. But untimely you cannot help but feel that both these examples show the death of a proud tribe. When the elders pass on will the name Pamir Kirghiz pass with them as their youth pass into global individualism? Hopkins offers us a charismatic tale. If you are looking for an alternative to your cinema adventures I would recommend 37 Uses for Dead Sheep. But please don't be disappointed if at the end you still don't know what to do with the rotting sheep carcass in the linen cupboard!

Raging Bull, 1980. Martin Scorsese.

Dir. Martin Scorsese, 1980, USA, 129mins

Cast: Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci, Cathy Morianty, Frank Vincent, Nicholas Colasanto, Theerea Salalana

Review by Siôn Thomas Markham

One winter morning, many years ago now, I sat down to watch Raging Bull. I had seen it before and had enjoyed it. But this time was different as I was suffering hang-over guilt from an incident the night before. It was in this state of mind that I experienced the Jake La Motta story and gained a greater understanding of what I believe Scorsese was trying to say through this character.

Raging Bull can simply be viewed as a sports film on a par with its contemporary, Rocky. You may think it a bio-epic merely charting the life of Jake La Motta (De Niro). But no, this film digs a lot deeper, exploring themes that can be recognized universally - well, by those with a Y chromosome, as the premise of the film deals with troubled male identity. This is apparent in the character of Jake La Motta and also, to a lesser extent, his bother Joey. This is why I, sitting in a pit somewhere in Sheffield, England, can make a personal connection with the film’s anti-hero, even though it is set in the Italian ghettos of New York City in the 1940s.

The story of Raging Bull begins in the later stages of Jake La Motta’s life. He stands alone in a dressing room, overweight and repulsive, a shadow of his former self, framed so as to seem cornered-in. We cut to the younger Jake La Motta, again cornered-in, but this time in the boxing ring. From there on in, Scorsese begins the Jake La Motta story, bringing the audience right into his demonic world. We are taken through his boxing career, his relationships with his wife Vicky (Moriarty) and his brother Joey (Pesci). We witness his attempts at night club management and then as a stand-up comic. Jake fails at everything, his spiral downwards portrayed so brilliantly and so convincingly that you can’t help feel a slither of sympathy for this most wretched of humans. Ultimately, it is Scorsese’s genius for subtle yet powerful story-telling that makes Raging Bull a classic.

The character of Jake La Motta is brilliantly brought to life both in Scorsese’s direction and De Niro’s performance. De Niro underplays the role and gives the character a strong physical presence. Indeed, his performance brings a new meaning to the concept of the method; he gained weight for the later part of the film, putting the shooting schedule on hold! The subtlety in direction and performance can be viewed in the scene where Jake first confronts his brother. “Did you fuck my wife?” This accusation comes out of nowhere, but yet, throughout the narrative, we have slowly begun building to this moment.

Through La Motta’s characterisation, we know the psychology behind his actions. He is an obsessive paranoid. Once he gets a thought in his head, that’s it. He only sees what he wants to see, without reason - whether it’s to do with his constant eating or what he believes to be his wife’s deception. Scorsese’s characters are often in need of redemption. La Motta is a hybrid of both Charley from Mean Streets (1973), sharing his need for painful retribution, and Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver (1976), with his psychotic obsession.

Scorsese uses the camera as a subjective tool. As in Taxi Driver, slo-mo is used to convey the murky world of the streets of New York. In Raging Bull, it also helps us see events from La Motta’s point of view - when his eyes first latch onto the young Vicki, for example. Michael Chapman, the film’s cinematographer, is responsible for the film’s stark black-white look. This style gave it an edge, especially in what can easily be argued as Raging Bull’s best scene. Jack La Motta has been jailed for selling alcohol to minors. We see a single shard of light spill into an otherwise jet-black cell. Jake is alone. He has no-one left to fight. His wife has left him, his brother has gone and his boxing career is long over. And so, he begins to repeatedly punch the wall over and over, screaming, “Why? Why? Why?”

I think what one will take away from this film is the absorbing drama of the fight scenes, completely unlike that of Rocky (1976) and Rocky 2 (1979). In Rocky, we watch the film as a spectator would watch any sport. But in Raging Bull, we feel every jab and hook; we are right there in the ring with Jake. We feel his brutal punishment. Again, this is due to the fantastic photography by Michael Chapman and the Oscar-winning skills of Thelma Schoonmaker, the editor.

This film was no doubt another personal journey for Martin Scorsese, made in the hang-over period from his previous work, New York, New York (1977). During the latter’s production, Scorsese was heavily into cocaine. The film received grave criticism and caused Scorsese to fall victim to profound depression. Previously, De Niro had approached Scorsese to make the life story of Jake La Motta and Scorsese had rejected it. It was only when he saw La Motta’s self-destructive side that he made a personal connection with the subject. So, armed with Mardik Martin and Paul Schrader’s script, (Scorsese had previously collaborated with Martin on Mean Streets and Schrader on Taxi Driver), Scorsese set about crafting Raging Bull like this was to be his last film. A labour of love, if you will!

When first released, Raging Bull was heavily criticised for its violent imagery and it was not a box office hit. However, it was nominated for a string of Oscars but only picked up two for Best Actor and Best Editing. Scorsese lost Best Director to Robert Redford for Ordinary People (1980). But which one has had a greater impact? Nevertheless, Raging Bull was voted as the best film of the decade. Not surprisingly, as this was the decade of Romancing the Stone (1984), Beverly Hills Cop (1984), Dirty Dancing (1987) and Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure (1988). Raging Bull surpasses all of them, and their kind, in every aspect of the film-making process.

As a lover of the moving image and a master of film I thought it best to put this knowledge into practice before I get lost on the minimal pay-role.

Here I will blog film review - either of the latest to hit the multiplex , old favorites, art-house Europeans and shorts.

I hope to be a regular contributor to my own blog and look forward to reading your own comments and opinions.

To be going on with I will be posting my reviews for when I was based in London working for Close-Up Film and, if I can find them some of my old essays.

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