Saturday, October 29, 2016

Winners of Tickets to The Girl On The Train

We understand that you were so many who participated in the competition for tickets to the woman on the train, and we look forward even mad to seeing the film. The winners are now drawn and the two lucky ladies that each can invite two friends to the movies is:

Caroline A .: I have also developed a girl crush on Emily Blunt! My first meeting with her, must have been in the movie "My Summer of Love". The film is, in my opinion, not one of her best, but her performance as the alluring Tamsin, is at the top :)

Mille: Wild, wild, wild with Blunt in The Wolfman from 2010. The film is debatable, but the cast is wasted motion well and Blunt shiner as virtually every woman. In addition, it's great when she gets to go full british on :)

Congratulations! There are sent mail directly to the winners.

Friday, September 30, 2016

See the Avengers Give Donald Trump on Dry

That opinion is divided on the controversial tycoon and presidential candidate Donald Trump, is not unknown. But some are bigger opponents than others, and now a number of Hollywood stars joined forces against Trump.

Robert Downey Jr., Scarlett Johansson and Mark Ruffalo are among the actors who participate in a humorous campaign video calling Trump a racist coward that can destroy society. Av ...

Joss Whedon has directed the video, which may explain the impressive attendance from above Avengers actors.

It is not unusual for American actors intervene in political debates and presidential elections. Most often it is the Democrats who obtain support from Hollywood, but there are also prominent Republican stars like Clint Eastwood.

Whether the involvement of various movie stars have any effect out and about in the American home when the election takes place on 8 November, is more uncertain.

One can ask oneself whether it would move votes if a number of Danish actors stood and gave their views known?

Sunday, August 21, 2016

Win Tickets To Nerve

The competition is made in collaboration with Nordisk Film

We shake just a little competition out of the sleeve here in the wake of the Danish summer. This time you can win tickets to the movie nerve with Emma Roberts and Dave Franco (yes, James Franco's younger brother) in the lead roles. Vee DeMarco (Roberts) lives a quiet life, focusing on his school work, but one day she will be tempted by the online game Nerve, a kind of interactive truth or dare. She meets the mysterious Ian (Franco) and together they will be drawn into the game as first seems like a reliable leg, but quickly develops into a risky competition with their lives.

It is Henry Joost and Ariel Schulman behind Nerve and previously made the documentary, Catfish, together. Both films have for the two instructors been a way to create dialogue about how we present ourselves online, and to what degree our online identity is consistent with our actual person. A fairly relevant conversation in these times when we increasingly live and communicate through online media.

And now for the competition. All you have to do to participate on tickets Nerve is to answer the following question in the comments section of this post: If you were to add a challenge to Nerve-game, what would it be? See possibly the trailer below for inspiration. We will draw two winners on Wednesday. August 24 pm. 12:00.

Photo credit: Nordisk Film + Niko Tavernise

Wednesday, December 2, 2015

Jean-Luc Godard: a beginner's guide

Godard is as revolutionary and influential a hinge-figure in cinema as Joyce was to literature and the cubists were to painting. He saw a rule and broke it. Every day, in every movie. Incorporating what professionals thought of as mistakes (jump-cuts were only the most famous instance), mixing high culture and low without snobbish distinctions, demolishing the fourth wall between viewing himself as a maker of fictional documentaries, essay movies, and viewing his movies as an inseparable extension of his pioneering work as a film critic for Cahiers du Cinéma in the 1950s.

Here are six films from his enormously productive 1960s period, when he ground out one masterpiece after another, 14 in a mere seven years. Don’t feel limited to this one decade, though, the rest of his career is no less fascinating, infuriating and masterly.

À Bout de Souffle (Breathless)

The revolution starts here. A barely-there sub-Série Noire plot involving a vain and nihilistic petty criminal (Jean-Paul Belmondo) with a Bogie fetish, and his sometime American girlfriend (Jean Seberg). He shoots a cop and goes on the run – sort of – and then gets shot himself. The real revolution is formal, stylistic. Just as the Velvet Underground incorporated the “accident” of feedback, Godard used the flaws and formal no-nos of conventional cinema to reinvent cinema. Shooting without permits, using no real script (dialogue was post-dubbed), and liberated by the same new lightweight cameras that powered the 60s documentary boom, Godard achieved an off-the-cuff, free-form documentary feel that felt totally new and invigorating in 1960. He also shattered notions of high culture and low, proving that you could infuse seedy B-movie trash with Apollinaire and The Wild Palms, Shakespeare and teddy bears, Dovzhenko and Frank Tashlin. And nothing was ever the same again.

Le Mépris (Contempt)

At Cinecittà Studios in Rome, a film of The Odyssey, directed by Fritz Lang himself (one of the four or five giants who locked down the grammar of cinema, lest we forget), and funded by Jack Palance’s crude American producer, is slowly failing to get made. The screenwriter’s (Michel Piccoli) marriage to a frequently naked Brigitte Bardot, meanwhile, is slowly being unmade. Shot in widescreen and color by Coutard, Contempt is almost ridiculously gorgeous to look at, inflected primarily by Godard’s career-long obsession with the color red (JLG loves red almost as much as Michael Powell did), and graced with enviably smooth and elegant tracking shots, some of enormous length and complexity. And despite working with a higher budget (from Carlo Ponti, of all people), one never loses the impression that Godard showed up in the morning with an idea or two, found a pre-existing set or locale, and just started shooting. The result, however, is one of the masterpieces of French cinema.

Bande à part

The “cutest” and most accessible of all Godard’s early movies, Bande à part has ingrained itself into the international folk-memory of cinema, and is referenced in dozens of other movies, whether directly, as in Bertolucci’s The Dreamers, which re-enacts Bande’s famous nine-minute race through the Louvre, or indirectly, as in Tarantino’s production outfit, A Band Apart Films. At the centre is Godard’s then wife and 1960s muse, the utterly beguiling Anna Karina, who takes up with two criminals who plan to rob her rich employer. Mostly they just lark about in the perfect Paris of 1964, riding cars, bullshitting in cafes – including one moment when one character asks for a minute’s silence, and the entire soundtrack drops out for that period – and generally failing at being crooks. This is the approachable, antic, fun-loving Godard who largely vanished during his radical Maoist decade after May 68. Still a joy to devour.

Une Femme Mariée (A Married Woman)

Godard made a number of intriguing and provocative films about women’s lives in the 60s: Une Femme est Une Femme, Vivre Sa Vie, Two or Three Things I Know About Her, and this long out-of-circulation 1964 portrait of a woman being slowly but steadily eclipsed by advertising, consumer goods, fashion spreads and consumerism in general. Into the mix are thrown the early-60s Auschwitz trials in West Germany, extended montages of fashion photography, and the fetishization of leading lady Macha Meril’s body, which gradually becomes indistinguishable from the advertising that constantly assails her. For reasons not made public, A Married Woman was initially banned by the French censors. Godard believed that the ban arose not from the mild instances of nudity in the film, but because it was “an attack on a certain mode of life, that of air-conditioning, that of the prefabricated, of advertising”. All the horrors of modern life, in other words, made into great art.


A magical and bizarre sci-fi fantasy, somewhere between Cocteau’s Orphée and Lang’s Dr Mabuse movies, starring American expatriate actor Eddie Constantine – with his Warner Bros private-eye face and manner – as Lemmy Caution, an investigator sent to destroy the notorious Alpha 60, a sentient computer, half HAL 9000, half the computer in The Prisoner, much given to quoting Borges, that controls the city of Alphaville, absorbing the soul of the individual into the mindless mass of the collective. With his legendary cinematographer Raoul Coutard, Godard discovered the future – unevenly distributed, then as now – in contemporary Paris without building a single set. In Alphaville one can summon up a “Seductress Third Class” for assignations, but no one understands the meaning of “love” or “conscience”. Lemmy’s weapons are poetry and literature, their meanings ambiguous and ever in flux, and thus intolerable and rebarbative to Alpha 60, which is finally destroyed by the words “I love you.”

La Chinoise

La Chinoise – along with Weekend, another masterpiece from 1967 – closed off the first period of Godard’s career – the approachable era – and foreshadowed his politically committed, near-Maoist Dziga Vertov period in partnership with Jean-Pierre Gorin, during which he seemed determined to alienate anyone who’d ever loved his early work. La Chinoise (very loosely based on Dostoyevsky’s The Possessed) is a black comedy about political commitment, starring Nouvelle Vague icon Jean-Pierre Léaud and Godard’s future second wife Anne Wiazemsky (star of Bresson’s Au Hasard Balthasar), and is rife with visual jokes and audacious editing (keep an eye on the ever growing and shrinking quantities of Mao’s Little Red Book that appear on the shelves behind the direct-to-camera speakers). Weekend, which is extremely formally aggressive, contains one of the most striking and hilarious tracking shots in movie history, an endless traffic jam that somehow contains all of life – birth, meals, fist-fights, philosophical arguments, sex and death.

Sunday, November 1, 2015

Spectre review: James Bond is back, stylish, camp and sexily pro-Snowden

If nothing else, the spelling of the title should tip you off that this is a thoroughly English movie franchise. Bond is back and Daniel Craig is back in a terrifically exciting, spectacular, almost operatically delirious 007 adventure – endorsing intelligence work as old-fashioned derring-do and incidentally taking a stoutly pro-Snowden line against the creepy voyeur surveillance that undermines the rights of a free individual. It’s pure action mayhem with a real sense of style.
Ralph Fiennes’s M finds himself battling a cocky new colleague Max Denbigh (Andrew Scott) who wishes to abolish the 00-programme in favour of a vast new multi-national computer-snooper programme. The code name of this awful new stuffed shirt is C – and Bond does not scruple to make crude innuendo on that score.

James Bond is cutting loose from duplicitous, bureaucratic authority - in the time-honoured fashion – and plans to track down a certain sinister Austrian kingpin at the heart of something called Spectre, played with gusto by Christoph Waltz. This is the evil organisation whose tentacular reach and extensive personnel may in fact have accounted for all Bond’s woes in Craig’s previous three movies.

The movie doesn’t say so but the “t” in Fleming’s Spectre stood for terrorism – the Special Executive for Counter-intelligence, Terrorism, Revenge and Extortion – and perhaps one of the first uses of the word in pop culture.

Is this Craig’s last hurrah as Bond? His somewhat tetchy remarks in interviews preceding this movie – indicating a readiness to quit – oddly mirror the tetchy media comments that greeted the news of his casting almost 10 years ago. Craig showed they were wrong: and I hope he carries on now. He is one of the best Bonds and an equal to Connery. That great big handsome-Shrek face with its sweetly bat ears has grown into the role.

He has flair, sang-froid, and he wears a suit superbly well by bulging his gym-built frame fiercely into it, rarely undoing his jacket button and always having his tie done up to the top. At one point he simply snaps the plastic handcuffs the bad-guys have put on him, with sheer brute strength. Yet there is also an elegant new dismissive tone that he introduces into the dialogue bordering on camp. “That all sounds marvellous,” he purrs when advised of some footling new procedural restriction, adding later: “That all sounds lovely.”

He is particularly vexed at the news that a sleek new car has in fact been reserved for 009. The script by John Logan, Neal Purvis, Robert Wade and Jez Butterworth runs on rails with great twists and turns and gags.

We start with a gasp-inducing action sequence in Mexico City for the Day of the Dead. Director Sam Mendes contrives a stylishly extended continuous tracking shot to bring our hero into the proceedings and it isn’t long before an outrageous set-piece is in progress with a helicopter repeatedly looping the loop while 007 vigorously punches the pilot and a fellow passenger.

A clue salvaged from the chaos puts Bond on the trail of Spectre, taking him at first to Rome where he has a romantic interlude with a soigné woman of mystery, played with distant languor by Monica Bellucci. Then he is to infiltrate the horribly occult headquarters of Spectre itself – a wonderfully old-fashioned “evil boardroom” scene for which Mendes manages to avoid any Austin Powers/Dr Evil type absurdity.

Waltz’s chief is an almost papal presence of menace, upsetting all his cringing subordinates by saying and doing next to nothing, and photographed in shadow. When he recognises Bond in the room, he leers: “I see you! Cuckoo!” – a French expression which in fact is to have a darker significance, revealed at the end.

From here we go to Austria and this is where Bond is to encounter his main amour: Dr Madeleine Swann, stylishly played with just the right amount of sullen sensuality by Léa Seydoux. It is of course ridiculous that the pair manage to get away from there to Tangier in such stunning changes of outfit without worrying about suitcases, money etc. but it is all part of the escapist effect.

Madeleine and James’s train journey comes with vodka martinis in the dining car followed by a colossal woodwork-splintering punch-up with a beefy henchman. They appear, moreover, to be the only passengers on the train.

Later, he gets a horrible hi-tech torture scene, with Waltz’s ogre whispering: “Out of horror, beauty....” A new version of the sadism that was on display when Mads Mikkselsen was roughing him up in Casino Royale.

Another person who has grown into his part, incidentally, is Ben Whishaw as the perennially stressed quartermaster and tech supremo Q: Whishaw has developed him as a very enjoyable comic character.

It’s deeply silly but uproariously entertaining. At the end, I almost felt guilty for enjoying it all quite so much – almost.