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I saw some of Pearl Harbour last night, while flicking back and forth in the ad breaks during Walk the Line. Was Pearl Harbour actually made as some kind of spoof? It certainly featured every imaginable sentimental Hollywood cliché going, particularly slow motion shots to orchestral music. Jeepers.

Although it did rather have me hankering after a high quality, historically accurate (a long-shot if Hollywood was involved, I’ll grant you) movie depicting the Battle of Britain. A sort of Saving Private Ryan in the sky. Create some faithful replicas of Hurricanes and Spitfires and film against blue screen (but, please, attention to detail – no MKIX Spitfires at the beginning of the Battle of Britain, when they were all MKIs). Go on, Hollywood – you know you can do it. You could even have a couple of Americans in notable roles, having flown against the Germans and their ME 109s in the Spanish Civil War. Not too many, though.

Sadly, I’ve realised that the two films caused me to forget about the final episode of Mad Men (see below). So, having missed several episodes of this fabulous series, I’ve placed a pre-order for the DVD on Amazon.

Writing. Kinda struggling here, to be honest. It’s very frustrating. I’m planning something new, along the lines my new agent has suggested, but things are coming to me in dribs and drabs and it’s all taking far longer than I’m happy with. I seem to be taking a step forward, getting excited about an idea, then realising it’s not going to work and having to take a step backwards and think again.

I don’t think I have “writer’s block”, which I’ve always kind of perceived as something of an excuse, a synonym for “can’t be arsed”, because I feel as though all of the components are in my head somewhere, hiding away in little rooms. It’s just a matter of opening the right doors. The problem is, there are a bloody lot of doors. I’ve got two notebooks on the go, and have things ticking over in the back of my mind. Time’s slipping by and I feel like I’m not *really* writing. I suppose thinking, and hopefully getting it right, is as important as hitting the keys but… it’s tough, man.

Not only that, but last week I was working on a report on retailing in the UK, which contained constant references to declining book sales. Sheesh.

Anyway, a brief Spitfire video…

Well, Sunshine was visually quite spectacular, but for me the story tended to lurch from one quite unbelievable scenario to another. And as for the visual references to 2001: A Space Odyssey and Alien, it seems Tarantino only watched these two films before/while writing the script. There’s even a scene with the crew sitting round chomping a meal while chatting, straight out of Alien. The imagery is really that similar. Maybe this was intentional.

The film, as Ian pointed out to me as we left the cinema, is also highly reminiscent of a certain episode of Thunderbirds. Would I recommend it? I’m not sure. To me it came across as if Tarantino wanted to make an SF thriller that showed SF people how it really should be done, but failing to appreciate the clichés he was using, or the credibility required.

Other problems included corny orchestrated strings at key “emotional” moments, such as when someone dies; the fact that the first ship sent out was called Icarus 1 (uh, you wouldn’t call it “1″ unless you thought you were going to need a “2″ now, would you?), the snow-encrusted Sydney Opera House just to illustrate that it really is that cold on Earth (which also reminded me of the Statue of Liberty scene at the end of Planet of the Apes) and, for me, Big Noises: although atmospheric, there is NO NOISE IN SPACE! And in particular, while it’s feasible for spacecraft to make noises, I don’t believe sunlight makes a noise. (If I’m showing my ignorance of physics here, please feel free to let me know…)

I think I’d give the film three stars out of five. Wear your sunglasses and some sun screen and you should be OK.

We watched The Prestige on DVD last night. This is one of those films which really convey’s the art of the quality film maker when viewed a second time, as you fully appreciate the subtlety of the movie.

Buy it here

I love old films, too. Proper English films, especially, usually in black and white. The Servant, with Dirk Bogard, Sarah Miles, Wendy Craig, and James Fox is a particular favourite. The screenplay by Harold Pinter is a long, slow burn, made back in the day when filmmakers gave their audiences credit for some intelligence. It must’ve been shocking to viewers in its day, as Vera (Miles) hops from bed with Barratt (Bogard), into the arms of Richard (Fox – their employer), all with Barratt’s encouragement as they seek to take over the life of the affluent idiot they work for. Craig’s a superb toff whose efforts to intervene come to naught.

Buy it here