The Hateful Eight

Firstly let’s get it straight that ‘The Hateful Eight’ is by no means a bad film, in fact it is quite fantastic. The cast for one are impeccable and on fire, especially Sam Jackson, Kurt Russell, Walton Goggins and Jennifer Jason Leigh. The first half of the film is full of what we have come to expect from a Tarantino picture, a lot of fast talking despicable characters, profanity and extraneous gabbing. It is so beautifully written and put together that one just marvels at the delight of it all, the talent on and off screen. Over the three hour running time the tension swells and the niceties begin to be abandoned as in classic Tarantino style, the talking turns to blood, and violence and chaos ensues. The final thirty minutes are very satisfying and entertaining. The 70mm cinematography is stunning and gives a great weight and cinematic power to every frame, every wide shot or extreme close up. The whole thing is quilted in a threatening Ennio Morricone score that is more horror movie than spaghetti western; it pulses along eerily, developing the underlying murderous intent of everyone onscreen, setting the stage for the bloodshed that will inevitably come. The whole thing is so beautifully crafted, but is it that interesting to watch, as a film? The problem is simply that the story is far too slim to warrant its three hour run time.

Tarantino is a great writer and truly gifted film maker, no one knows that more than Tarantino himself. It has always been his writing and his screenplays in particular that have been his selling point, his films are defined from their use of language and the way in which the characters speak. Over the course of his career this has become more omnipresent and as his films and celebrated status have amassed success his penchant rambling dialogue and character monologues have just got longer and denser and more literary. Since ‘Inglorious Bastards’ this literary trend of Tarantino’s writing has become all pervasive and defining of his work, whereby narrative and plot are not as important as character and dialogue and the cinematic tension developed between the two. Some can say this has always been the case with Tarantino’s films but his earlier work from ‘Reservoir Dogs’ through to ‘Kill Bill’ although very heavy on a theatrical perversion with wordplay, all had a greater cinematic momentum that drove the narrative. In Tarantino’s later years it has become apparent that the writing has become the most sacred aspect of his process and the cinematic end product is almost secondary to the source material.

Tarantino’s preciousness around his screenplays is much like that of a novelist or a playwright, he regards them in that light, his writing process is no different to if he were writing a novel and in the case of his most recent work they have become far richer, denser and situational rather than adhering to a cinematic plot based framework. The chapter headings that Tarantino has always used now make a lot more sense as each scene plays out like a chapter of a novel, and in a novel they would be even more captivating. Both ‘Inglorious Bastards’ and ‘Django Unchained’ were heavily built around single scenes of extraordinary length, dedicated to dialogue, with very little action or momentum on screen, and reverential dedication to mounting tension. These films successfully pulled this off for they also displayed the director’s usual dynamic approach to film making, the history and wonder of cinema up there on screen with them giving even greater weight to written word, both harmoniously nurturing the other. This time Tarantino has clearly been so occupied with the writing that none of the usual cinematic flair is up there on screen. For a western - the genre that Tarantino holds most dear - there is little of the genre on screen, a trait not often something one can criticise Tarantino for. ‘The Hateful Eight’ is nowhere near as affecting as Bastards or Django, its suspense and tension not as palpable as Christoph Waltz’s opening scene in Bastards or Dicaprio’s speech about old Ben at the dinner table. In the ‘Hateful Eight’ there is a lot of talking and a lot of violence but the threat of violence and that sinister urge never brews so deliciously the way it does in Bastards or Django. It remains flat, this I am sure is because of the sedentary setting of almost the entire film. The characters have no where to go, therefore it is impossible to take the audience somewhere else either.

In the case of ‘The Hateful Eight’ it is this preoccupation and love affair Tarantino has for the novelistic approach to screenwriting that is its downfall. The Hateful Eight is on paper a very simple story of a bounty hunter transporting a fugitive to hang, who with six other characters find themselves trapped at an inn during a wild blizzard and they must all tolerate each others company for the rest of the film. There is murder mystery at the heart of the story and a whodunit plot device, but as for story it is as simple as it gets. It does not demand a three hour run time, if it ran for one hundred minutes like ‘Reservoir Dogs’ also a situational thriller, the film would have been far more compelling. The film doesn’t have any momentum, any driving force that directs the narrative and takes the audience on a journey from beginning to end. It is the assumption of Tarantino that because he knows his writing is so good, and all the Oscars and awards, not to mention flawless back catalogue, will give great evidence for that being the case, it isn’t enough if the story isn’t strong enough. There isn’t a story here worth telling, there isn’t a story that is captivating to an audience or characters anyone can route for and invest in emotionally. The history of cinema differs to theatre in that it has always been structured around a three act structure and centred around a heroes journey, when this trend is abandoned it never tends to work in the favour of mass success. That’s not to say ‘The Hateful Eight’ won’t make a lot of money, I’m sure it will, it is a Tarantino film after all, but it is impossible to ignore the disappointment audiences have had after having seen the film. It is impossible to shift that feeling that you didn’t see a movie; you just saw a play on screen.

Tarantino has stated that he intends to make ten movies, he now only has two more left to make, and after that he wants to write novels and direct plays. It is evident that this is the direction he intends to go, his screenplays and his writing process is no longer aimed at modern cinema audiences, he writes as a novelist, and as a novelist you are under no hurried pressure to do anything, the same narrative structure is not essential when writing a novel, it is a far looser and freer medium of story telling whereby characters and story can be developed over a much greater period of time. In cinema you only have two hours to captivate an audience and take them on a journey. It isn’t a problem if a film has a certain theatricality to it or evokes the feeling of a stage play, many films do it and do it well. There are many interior set dramas that borrow heavily from theatre and novels for that matter but it is always to what extent that keeps a film with its feet firmly in the realm of the cinematic. ‘The Hateful Eight’ is far too literary and is evidently a stage play so why make it a film, why not stage it as a one act play and let chaos ensue? I’m positive it would have a far greater affect.

I don’t think for a second that Tarantino has lost his love affair with cinema; however it is becoming increasingly clear that as a writer he doesn’t appear to be fulfilled writing for modern cinematic audiences. There is a light frothy nature to writing a Hollywood screenplay compared to the works of William Shakespeare or Tennessee Williams. Tarantino, I feel, fancies himself as the latter; he considers himself a great writer and wants to be remembered as such, to go down in the history books for having a God given talent for writing and perhaps that talent is just too big for the confines of the silver screen and is screaming to be let loose. Perhaps the stage is where he will go, where the dialogue can roam rampant and free without having to answer to critics arguing the lack of narrative or plot. There doesn’t need to be onstage nor in a novel, but in cinema, in the current Hollywood mould that we all consume movies, it is essential for at least a tenuous narrative plot to be present, which in The Hateful Eight is scarcely found. I feel as Tarantino ponders his next move and his next picture he should question, do I want to be remembered as a great film maker or a great writer? Nobody doubts either. 

Creeper

As I recover from the news of David Bowie’s passing, and now like all must find the strength to go on living in a somewhat dimmer Bowie-less world, I am left wondering who do we have left to carry the torch for the underdogs, for the misfits and the freaks, for weirdoes, the introverts and the loners. Bowie elevated the outsider into a position of power and empowered all who ever felt alone and slightly odd to embrace their oddity as he redefined the definition of rock and roll and gave birth to a gender bending theatricality that served as a precursor to the punk movement and the phosphorescent glare of the new romantics pop of the 1980s. However I’m not sure if he has left in his wake anybody to succeed him, to inspire the same sense of elation and fulfilment in future generation’s young minds. It is no secret that rock and roll is in bad shape, it is dying infact, slowly but surely being anaesthetised into decay. The bands that pose as rock bands are imposters chasing paper and the promise of fame and fortune, nobody is trying to say anything, nobody has their own artistic voice, their own theatricality and unique position to inspire the flippant young into leaving their bedrooms to embrace a new hypnotic hedonism to be found worshipping at the altar of showmanship, craft and endless creative ambition. Until now.

Finally the world has that band and that band is Creeper. Hailing from Southampton UK, Creeper are quickly becoming something of a blossoming phenomenon. Having only been in existence for two years they have already released two critically acclaimed EP’s and signed to Roadrunner Records and are beginning to amass a fervent cult following. The reason for all their success and adulation is quite simply because they deserve it, they are undeniably incredible. A band like Creeper shouldn’t on paper be getting the attention they are receiving, just like Gallows before them who took the UK and then the world by storm, Creeper play punk rock, fast, hooky, snotty, Goth tinged punk rock. They should realistically blend into the ocean of other local punk bands rehashing all the queues that have been done before by far more legendary alumni. However that is not the case, on the brink of releasing their third EP ‘The Stranger’ the media attention and word of mouth hype that is currently swelling around this band is reaching fever pitch, something truly special is happening or about to happen.

Just like My Chemical Romance before them the reason for this is showmanship. In a cynical and sanitised 2016 rock landscape we have come to expect mediocrity from the biggest acts in the industry. Nobody says anything interesting or controversial, nobody has the guts to voice their own unpopular opinions in fear of losing out to lucrative opportunities that will come their way if they just toe the line and nod their heads.  It’s a truly depressing time to be a fan of rock music. However Creeper defy all of that, they are led by their impassioned iconoclastic lead singer Will Ghould, who possesses a spirit that has not reared its head since Gerard Way. Ghould displays a vulnerability and a fragility that utterly rejects gender stereotypes and the laddish machoism that currently occupies the rock chart. He is an enigmatic front man cutting an image that is one part Joey Ramone, one part Davey Havok. He has all the flamboyance of Freddie Mercury and David Bowie, with the snarling voice of more visceral punk rock heroes such as Matt Skiba. Will Ghould is potentially the greatest front man of his generation. He looks like a rock star in the true definition of the word, yet under the chaotic energy displayed onstage is a shy, quiet introvert that only fuels the enigma of Creeper and their mass cult appeal.

Aside from the bands visual aesthetic and Ghould’s iconic silhouette is a growing arsenal of songs that are soaring, anthemic bursts of perfectly crafted punk rock. For a band that only have ten songs to their name, soon to be fifteen, there is not a second spared on filler. They have songs of such incredible emotional power, with beautifully written witty lyrics, that are complex and intricate yet beautifully simplistic at the same time. The songs are so catchy, the chorus’ so huge, it is impossible to deny them as legitimate contenders for being the biggest band in the world within five years. This is what it felt like when My Chemical Romance were about to release ‘Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge’, the anticipation for what was to come next could never have been anticipated but there was something in the air that suggested greatness. And the same ambition that drove that band to become so gigantic and culturally important can be seen in Creeper as they plot world domination and continue to release incredible records.

So as we lose another legend and David Bowie becomes a ‘was’, who then will take his place, who will we look back on in fifty years from this generation, for new bands to become legendary they need to begin crafting their own identity, their own voice and their own artistic ambition with its own insatiable hunger for satisfaction. Bands need to have the vision to exist outside of the time they belong, to not simply represent the values and demands of a contemporary audience but give birth to something new that has the ability to change the world and the way we see it, the way we dress and the way we think. The only band on planet earth right now that ticks all those boxes is Creeper, UK’s finest Goth punks believe it or not, and if they play their cards right and keep writing songs as good as ‘Gloom’, ‘Novena’, ‘Henley’s Ghost’ and ‘Black Mass’, truly the world is their oyster and it is only a matter of time until South Coast misery envelopes the world as the Creeper cult continues to grow.

Love in decline.

Joy

On first viewing, ‘Joy’ appears to feel rather innocuous. A film about a young mother who invents a mop and in turn changes her life and becomes a millionaire, it doesn’t have Oscars written all over it from reading the synopsis - quite the opposite - it sounds dull. In less accomplished hands the film would indeed be dull, probably destined as a TV movie, a quaint soapy drama about how unfulfilling it is to be a house wife; stifled ambition and forgotten dreams. The film is beautifully written, beautifully shot, it has many great performances and delivers great dramatic power for a film about a mop. However ‘Joy’ is so much more than that and it comes down to one factor – Jennifer Lawrence. It happens within the first five minutes, once the film starts you realise you know nothing about the film you have just paid to see, you know scarce details about the plot - minimal as they are -  you also know very little about the characters or the story, or what its even meant to be about. All you do know is that Jennifer Lawrence is in it and its not the Hunger Games or ‘X-Men’, so that must mean quality.

There is a phenomenon taking place right now regarding Jennifer Lawrence and her star quality, the sheer power she holds as a movie star and celebrity is unlike anything any other actress has achieved. People are willing to go see a film simply because she is starring in it and better yet we are all anticipating greatness, from a twenty five year-old actress. To date if you ignore the ‘Hunger Games’ and ‘X-Men’ series, Jennifer Lawrence has made only four films worth mentioning, ‘Winter’s Bone’ in 2010 before she really came to prominence, the other three: ‘Silver Linings Playbook’, ‘American Hustle’ and now ‘Joy’ all directed by David O’Russell, yet somehow her star quality and power to get people into cinemas and buying tickets is extraordinary. On the one hand she successfully carries two giant franchises that make millions of dollars and on the other she is able to simultaneously execute awards season knockout performances in David O’Russell’s most recent work. Neither one retracts from the integrity or success of the other, they both exist and compliment each other, no other actress is able to do that. There is now an association with her name and Oscar certainty, the same way you think of Daniel Day Lewis, Robert DeNiro or Meryl Streep and yet she is only twenty five and has made so few films.

Anyway, back to ‘Joy’. The genius of the film doesn’t really begin to sink in until about halfway through the picture, when she invents the mop and manages to sell it on QVC it suddenly becomes clear that this is a character piece built around the strong foundation of an incredible character performance from Lawrence - it may as well be a one woman show - sure Bradley Cooper is rather good and the rest of the cast including DeNiro all do a fine job, but Jennifer Lawrence outshines them all, even DeNiro! It is extraordinary to witness, that such a young actress is able to carry an entire movie by the gravitas and finesse of their craft. Once you realise the film isn’t about a woman who invents a mop, you realise why only Jennifer Lawrence could play the part. It is about women taking control of their lives, not allowing themselves to be defined by gender or the expectations that go with it. 

The film isn’t explicitly a feminist film but it certainly has its fair share to say on the matter. Who else could play such a part in 2015, whose public persona and star profile is synonymous with the same subject matter that remains controversial and contentious. In the same year that Jennifer Lawrence comes under fire for demanding equal pay in the film industry for women, who better to play the role of ‘Joy’ this strong, brave, fiercely independent, matriarch. It is such an important role and such an important film as it truly breaks the mould of female representation in Hollywood cinema. Finally there is a character played by an incredible actress who yields great power and presence both on and off screen who is not defined by their sexuality, who is able to embrace a matriarchal character yet not be limited by the role of being a mother, who is able to be the provider of her family without being androgenised, demonised or vilified - without having to sacrifice her femininity or sexuality to adopt otherwise male societal gender roles. Jennifer Lawrence holds a rare quality in modern stars and that is the ability to convey the duality of gender that is within us all so everybody can identify with her.  ‘Joy’ is a historically important film for these reasons and instils a great sense of hope for the future of female characterisation in Hollywood movies. Times are a-changing and Jennifer Lawrence is the star for this generation, and somebody who at such a young age surely has a truly legendary career ahead of her.