Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Bruce Willis, Kristen Stewart and Jesse Eisenberg star in new Woody Allen film

Stars line up for Woody Allen … Bruce Willis, Kristen Stewart and Jesse Eisenberg
Woody Allen’s hold over Hollywood’s casting directors appears as strong as ever, as Bruce Willis, Kristen Stewart and Jesse Eisenberg have all signed up to appear in his next project, which is due to begin shooting later this year.

Eisenberg is a repeat collaborator, having already featured in the 2012 ensemble movie To Rome With Love, but Willis and Stewart will be making their first Allen. film. However, Willis will not be entirely unfamiliar with the director’s working methods as his then wife Demi Moore appeared in 1997 film Deconstructing Harry.

As is customary, no details or title have been announced for the new film, which is due to be produced by Allen’s regular partners: his sister Letty Aronson, agent Stephen Tenenbaum (who has worked on 15 Allen films) and cable-TV tycoon Edward Walson.

Allen is readying his current project Irrational Man, which stars Joaquin Phoenix as an academic who has an affair with a student (Emma Stone), for release in July 2015. Allen also signed up to make an as-yet-unspecified TV series for Amazon Prime, due to be available in 2016. It is not clear if his commitment to Amazon will affect his regular film-a-year schedule.

Monday, July 13, 2015

The Girl on the Train film to be set in US not UK

‘It could take place in any commuter town’ … Paula Hawkins, author of The Girl on the Train. Photograph: David Levene/for the Guardian
The film adaptation of bestselling mystery novel The Girl on the Train is set to be shifted to the US from its original English setting, it has been reported.

The film rights to the book were optioned before its publication by Hollywood studio DreamWorks, and in a recent interview with the Sunday Times, its author Paula Hawkins said it was likely to take place in “upstate New York”. However, she said: “I’m not really concerned about the repositioning as I think it is the type of story that could take place in any commuter town.”

Inspired by Hawkins’ own commute to work, The Girl on the Train is a thriller about a woman whose curiosity about a house she can see from her train carriage leads her into a missing persons inquiry. The novel, described as “the new Gone Girl”, has topped the charts in the UK and US, and broke the record stay in the UK No 1 slot held by Dan Brown’s The Lost Symbol.

Hawkins also appears unconcerned to exert authorial control over the planed film, a la EL James, saying: “I don’t want to be involved … let them get on with it.”

The Help’s Tate Taylor is to direct the film for DreamWorks, from a script by Erin Cressida Wilson. Emily Blunt is the favourite to land the lead role.

Monday, June 29, 2015

Ted 2 beaten by Jurassic World and Inside Out at US box office

All dressed up and nowhere to go … Ted 2
Seth MacFarlane’s rowdy comedy sequel Ted 2 failed to live up to expectations this weekend at the US box office, opening in third place on a disappointing $32.9m behind enduring powerhouses Inside Out and Jurassic World.
Jurassic World once again topped the chart for the third week in a row, Colin Trevorrow’s dinosaur disaster epic scoring another $54.2m in its third week on release and becoming the first film to hit $500m in North America in 2015. Pixar animation Inside Out was not far behind, pulling in $52.1m for a two-week total of $184.9m.

Some experts had predicted the weekend might see three films hitting $50m in North America for the first time ever. But Ted 2 ultimately struggled to compete with a double dose of box office firepower. The sequel, featuring Mark Wahlberg, Amanda Seyfried and the voice of MacFarlane as the foul-mouthed talking teddy bear title character, eventually dipped much lower than 2012’s Ted ($54.4m on debut). It has also suffered from middling reviews in comparison to its predecessor, which was one of 2012’s biggest sleeper hits and went on to make $549m worldwide.

“You have to remember that no one expected Ted to do what it did,” Nicholas Carpou of studio Universal told the Hollywood Reporter. “So for Ted 2 to do $33 million in a very crowded weekend isn’t bad. And we have a very good chance of playing out. Ted 2 will be a successful film for us.”

The only other wide release this weekend in a hugely competitive marketplace was the family-friendly adventure film Max, about a dog who returns from duty supporting US marines in Afghanistan to be adopted by his handler’s family after surviving a traumatic experience. Boaz Yakin’s drama, which cost just $20m to make, landed in fourth spot with $12.2m on debut.

US box office chart, 26-28 June

1. Jurassic World: $54.2m, $500m
2. Inside Out: $52.1m, $184.9m
3. Ted 2: $32.9m - NEW
4. Max: $12.2m - NEW
5. Spy: $7.8m, $88.3m
6. San Andreas: $5.2m, $141.8m
7. Dope: $2.8m, $11.7m
8. Insidious: Chapter 3: $2m, $49.7m
9. Mad Max: Fury Road: $1.7m, $147m
10. Avengers: Age of Ultron: $1.6m, $452.4m

Monday, June 15, 2015

Christopher Lee 1922-2015: an appreciation by Mark Kermode

Christopher Lee, appreciation
Sir Christopher Lee loved to sing. I remember being at the BBC one afternoon in 1994 and hearing his voice booming majestically down the corridors of Broadcasting House – rich, mellifluous, commanding. As a longtime horror fan, I instinctively recognised that voice from the Hammer films that made Lee an international celebrity back in the 60s. But as well as being an iconic screen presence, he was an acclaimed vocalist whose powerful range could be employed from opera to heavy metal with breathtaking results. Alongside his many other accolades, Lee received a Spirit of Metal award in 2010 for his work on Charlemagne: By the Sword and the Cross, a “symphonic metal concept album”, which cemented his reputation as a genuinely unpredictable cultural polymath. “It’s fascinating,” he said at the time, “that people are starting to look upon me as ‘a metal singer’.” To my surprise and great pleasure, I suddenly find that there seems to be another string to my bow… ”

I first met Lee in 1991, when he provided the narration for a Channel 4 documentary I was working on entitled Fear in the Dark. The script (which I had “polished”) was somewhat perfunctory, but Lee made it sound... important, vibrant, engrossing. I remember sitting in the control booth with director Dominic Murphy listening to Lee breathe dramatic life into words that had seemed so sterile on the page. The timbre of his voice was astonishing – if he’d read the phone book out loud, it would have seemed deep and meaningful. I also remember his numerous notes – correcting small factual errors (he believed very strongly that the devil was in the detail), reconfiguring clumsily constructed sentences, challenging lazy generalisations. He also politely, but firmly, put me straight on the correct pronunciation of the word “piranha”, a word that has never sounded the same to me since.

For a certain generation of film-goers (those aged 50 and over), Lee’s name will always be associated with key roles in such Hammer classics as 1957’s The Curse of Frankenstein, in which he played the creature, or 1958’s Dracula (aka Horror of Dracula), in which he played the Count. The latter of these would establish Lee as the screen’s most celebrated vampire, a label with which he became increasingly uncomfortable. Yet despite the fact that his biography was self-deprecatingly entitled Tall, Dark and Gruesome, Lee consistently rose above typecasting, reinventing himself time and again in a career of quite bewildering diversity.

Many younger viewers will think of Lee as Saruman from Peter Jackson’s blockbusting The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit movies, or as Count Dooku from George Lucas’s Star Wars series – roles in his later life that introduced him to legions of new fans. For others, it is his portrayal of the evil fiend Fu Manchu, whom he played in a string of hit movies in the 60s, that will resonate most richly, or his mesmerising title role in Rasputin: The Mad Monk (1966). In the 70s, he worked with Billy Wilder on The Private Life of Sherlock Holmes, portrayed triple-nippled Bond baddie Scaramanga in The Man With the Golden Gun, and played Rochefort in Richard Lester’s popular The Three Musketeers movies. He had a major role in HBO’s epic 1984 TV miniseries The Far Pavilions, and in 1990 he did sterling comic work as Dr Catheter in Joe Dante’s fantasy satire Gremlins 2: The New Batch.

In 2009, he was knighted for services to drama and charity, and received the Bafta fellowship (the organisation’s highest honour) in 2011. The award was presented by Tim Burton, who worked with Lee on films such as Sleepy Hollow (1999) and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005), and who described him after his death last week as “the last of his kind – a true legend – who I’m fortunate to have called a friend”.

Following my first own starstruck encounter with Lee on Fear in the Dark, I crossed paths with him again in 1998 when I joined him on a BBC World Service programme in which he looked back at his extraordinary career, and talked enthusiastically about his two most recent projects; a recording he had made of Wand’rin’ Star in a baritone so rich it would have made Lee Marvin cry; and the film Jinnah, in which he played the founder of Pakistan – a role he was particularly proud of.
The Wicker Man. ‘I don’t think that anyone up to the time we showed it had ever seen a film quite like it,’ said Lee.

But it was while making a documentary about the cult British classic The Wicker Man that I saw Lee at his most passionate. “I don’t think that anyone up to the time we showed it had ever seen a film quite like it,” he told me in 2001 of the film he considered to be his finest work. Based on a script by Anthony Shaffer, The Wicker Man cast Lee as Lord Summerisle, the leader of a pagan island where ancient rituals are given horrifying new life. Although the film tapped into Lee’s horror status (“I was typecast in the sense that people said: ‘Oh he kills people, and he makes these frightening, dark, gruesome movies’”), The Wicker Man was something new, a film that replaced the gothic trappings of yore with a modern-day terror all of its own. Lee is astonishing in the movie, bringing gravitas, intrigue and a touch of black comedy to a role that could easily have descended into farce. The film’s fiery climax remains one of the most memorably chilling finales of modern cinema.

The Wicker Man was a masterpiece but it struggled to find a home in the landscape of 70s cinema, with which it was bizarrely out of step. Unloved by its production company British Lion (“they told me they thought it was one of the 10 worst films they had ever seen,” said Lee), it was cut down and released as a B-picture on a double bill with Nic Roeg’s Don’t Look Now. Years later, thanks largely to Lee’s tireless flag-waving, the film was reassessed and partially restored, having been hailed by Cinefantastique as “the Citizen Kane of horror movies”. All of which gave Lee great cause for rejoicing – although he continued to believe that a superior, more complete cut of the film languished in a vault somewhere, awaiting rediscovery.

“We do all of us depend on the elements that have been there since the dawn of time, and without which we could not exist,” he told me while musing on the enduring power of The Wicker Man. “There’s a touch of paganism in us all…”

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Viggo Mortensen: ‘Often people are desperate, so I do what needs to be done’

Viggo Mortensen is in his socks – he likes to go shoeless whenever he can – and is making a cup of tea. If this does not seem a thing of note, you’ve never watched Viggo brew. He carefully portions out green leaves from his own pouch into his personal silver vessel – a modern version of the South American mate gourd – then decants the water into a silver Thermos, adding the leaves to brew. “I’m ready to go,” he says, pulling his vessel close.
I mean, obviously he’d have been ready to go five minutes ago if he’d just dunked a tea bag in a cup with a slosh of milk like most of us do, but it’s clear Viggo likes to do things on his own terms and to his own very precise standards. You just have to look at his CV to see that. Viggo became an internationally fancied and bankable star as Aragorn, king of men, in the Lord of the Rings trilogy starting back in 2001. It’s a reputation he’s cemented over the years, in large part with another trio of films – A History of Violence, Eastern Promises and A Dangerous Method– all directed by David Cronenberg. Though he received an Oscar nomination for Eastern Promises in 2007, Viggo never capitalised on the earning potential the LOTR franchise offered. In fact, that idea is baffling to him. He says he only took the role of Aragorn to please his son, Henry, who was around 10 years old at the time.
Given the choice, what Viggo wants above all else is to tell a story he thinks is interesting. “I don’t really look for movies based on the budget or the nationality or the language,” he has said. “I just want to be in movies that I wouldn’t mind seeing 10 years from now.” Looking at the films he has been in since he made his name, it’s fair to say his vision of enduring storytelling is not one seen in the romcoms and blockbusters that typically make for box-office hits.
Jauja, the film we have met to discuss, is possibly one of his least commercial yet. It’s an Argentinian-Danish movie directed by Lisandro Alonso, an award-winning young director, and co-written by Alonso with Fabian Casas, an Argentinian poet. “Jauja” is a Spanish word with Arabic origins which roughly translates to Neverland. After he’s patiently clarified the pronunciation (“How as in how you doing? And huh as in uh-huh,”) Viggo explains that the promise of Jauja was used as propaganda by the Spaniards who conquered South America in the 16th century.
Viggo Mortensen as Aragorn in Lord of the Rings: Two Towers.
‘What else would I do?’: as Aragorn in Lord of the Rings: Two Towers. Photograph: AP
“It was hard to convince people to go there. You’d either die on the way or die when you got there. You never got to go home. So they tried to make it sound like the ideal place. Something you’d dream about seeing or achieving. But you never really get what you’re looking for, do you?”
The film is about a Danish captain stationed in a remote Patagonian army outpost. He’s travelling with his 15-year-old daughter and when she vanishes into the pampas, he goes on a desperate quest to find her. Viggo stumbles and sweats through the unforgiving landscape and a series of surreal encounters. At one point he follows a dog through the mountains – chasing not his own tail, but someone else’s.
Viggo’s lack of physical vanity has become a recurring theme in his work. On film he’s been beaten up (Eastern Promises), starved (The Road) and kicked in the balls (A History of Violence), but he can’t imagine work being any other way. “What else would I do?” snorts the 56-year-old. “Those films where I’m the hero with a 20-year-old girlfriend? I go for what needs to be there. Often people are desperate or ridiculous rather than heroic, so I do what needs to be done.”
Jauja is a beautiful film – lit like a Technicolor classic and surprisingly funny – but also baffling. I went to the loo during the screening and, when I returned, for a moment I thought I’d walked into the wrong auditorium because the film had changed so completely. “It’s nonlinear,” agrees Viggo. “But even people who resisted it and didn’t think they liked it find there’s a resonance on an intellectual level. You can get existential about it. What’s it about? Well, you keep thinking about it. Most movies don’t do that.”
Viggo’s animation and enthusiasm as he talks about the film are contagious. He’s very smart and articulate and his intensity is interestingly at odds with his laidback appearance – his scruffy jeans and faded San Lorenzo football shirt (Viggo is a huge football fan and the Buenos Aires team was his first love), and the ratty friendship bracelets that slither up and down his arm as he drinks his tea.
Viggo Mortensen in The Road with Kodi Smit-McPhee.
In The Road with Kodi Smit-McPhee. Photograph: Allstar
Jauja is also a personal project for Viggo. Though he was born in New York, he grew up in Argentina with his American mother Grace, Danish father Viggo Sr, and younger brothers Walter and Charles. His father worked as an agricultural manager and, though they mainly lived in Buenos Aires, they also spent time in Chaco in the rural north. “We’d go on camping holidays over the Christmas holidays in the area where Jauja was shot, just our sleeping bags in the car,” he says. “It made me really happy to be on a horse in that landscape again.”
Viggo left South America aged 11, when his parents divorced and he moved to upstate New York with his mother and siblings. The move was a shock: to lose that Spanish culture, the TV, the football. He and his brothers mainly spoke Spanish, but then they were living near Quebec. He adapted – learned some French, started supporting the Montreal Canadiens hockey team – but it seems unsurprising that he now mainly lives in Madrid with his girlfriend, actor Ariadna Gil (best known here for the film Pan’s Labyrinth).
Working on Jauja made him think about his father a lot. “In the film I speak Spanish with a thick Danish accent, copying my father. I was raised there so there were connections for me in terms of culture, language and landscape. I knew those things would be assets for me and for Lisandro.” Did it make him think about his parents’ split? “Maybe subconsciously. I certainly thought a lot about our life there.”
Even without the personal connection, Viggo approaches each film as a learning experience. “Making a movie for me is not always about being paid, but it is a new university course. There’s no limit to what you can learn. I mean, it’s perfectly fine for an actor to say I’m just going to learn the lines and get on the horse, but I happen to enjoy digging deeper. In this case, I already knew about 19th- century Danish history and the wars the captain would have fought, so I went to Denmark and met with antiquarians and military historians. I found the uniform he would have worn and also picked out a medal. It was only given to soldiers who served in 1848-64 against the Prussians.”
Viggo Mortensen with his son Henry.
With his son Henry. Mortensen says he only took the role of Aragorn to please Henry who was 10 at the time. Photograph: Matt Baron/Rex
For Viggo, this research is pretty superficial. He slept outside in his costume for the first few days of the LOTR shoot. For the big-screen adaptation of Cormac McCarthy’s The Road he went one further and slept outside in sub-zero temperatures wrapped in nothing but a tarpaulin and always made sure his shoes were soaking wet before filming, for added discomfort. While researching Good (2008), in which he plays a German professor working with the Nazis, he drove more than 1,000 miles around Germany and Poland visiting concentration camps. To get under Freud’s skin for A Dangerous Method, he not only learned to write like the psychoanalyst but also bought first editions of the books that the good doctor would have had on his study shelves.
“I just think,” explains Viggo, “that the more realistic and specific you are with the details, the more universal the story becomes.”
Much of Viggo’s LOTR money was sunk into Perceval Press, an independent publishing company (named after the knight who stars in his favourite part of the myth of the Holy Grail). Perceval produces albums, art books and poetry collections by obscure artists, and the company recently diversified into film with Jauja, the second film it has been involved in.
Viggo’s own art books, poetry and albums are also available on Perceval. He was a published poet before he set up the imprint and his art had already been shown around LA (you can see his paintings in the 1998 film A Perfect Murder. He played an artist and, of course, created the work for the film). Perceval’s biggest profits come from Viggo’s own artistic output – though whether that’s because his fans really love his spoken-word albums or because they fancy him and would buy anything he released is hard to tell. His latest album, Under The Weather, came out last month, dedicated to feminist author Ti-Grace Atkinson and Albert Camus.
Perceval Press’s website is interesting even if you’re not in the mood for buying a book of paintings of endangered species by an Iranian artist. It’s a repository for Viggo’s political and world views, too. He regularly posts features, news stories and poems which he thinks will interest visitors. Currently the home page is a jumble of pieces about Israel, Benjamin Netanyahu’s re-election and climate change.
Viggo Mortensen in his latest film, Jauja.
‘The more realistic and specific you are with the details, the more universal the story becomes’: in his latest film, Jauja. Photograph: Rex
“Putting that stuff up there makes me pay attention,” he says. “I concentrate when I’m reading the newspaper in case there’s something I can take from it. It’s like having a camera. I’ve carried a camera since I was a teenager and whether you’re using it or not, it means you look at composition, think about what around you would work well in the frame. The pieces on Perceval are just things I think are interesting to read. I’ll put up pieces I don’t agree with – conservative, right wing – if I think they’re well written. I’m not saying what I think, I’m asking questions and giving you the opportunity to ask yourself how you relate to this.”
This is a nice idea, but not strictly true. Viggo has always been fairly outspoken: no one would be in any doubt about his left-wing political affiliations. “Yeah, I’ve been called antisemitic and I got so much shit for speaking out against the Iraq invasion, but it was a huge waste of material resources and manpower.”
One of my favourite stories about Viggo comes from 2005. He heard that Californian mother Cindy Sheehan had driven her motorhome to Texas and parked outside George Bush’s family home in the hope of talking to the president about her son, who had been killed in Iraq. Viggo decided to show his support, so he flew out of LA and turned up unannounced at her motorhome with fresh vegetables, mineral water and a copy of George Orwell’s Animal Farm (to read, in case she had to wait around before meeting Bush). He only spoke to Sheehan for 20 minutes because he had to go back to LA to pick Henry up from school. Sheehan said she was a bit surprised when Aragorn turned up on her doorstep, but she appreciated the gesture. Viggo dedicated his next album, Intelligence Failure, to her.
You have to admire Viggo’s intentions, no matter what you think of the end results. Whether he’s stumbling through a desert looking for life’s answers, bringing his own tea set to an interview or flying across the country for a 20-minute chat, the man knows what he wants. As we finish, I tell him I think he has a pretty nice life – he basically gets to do all the things he enjoys. He shrugs: “Yeah, but if people weren’t interested in that stuff, I’d be doing it anyway. You just have to go ahead and do it, don’t you?”
Jauja is in cinemas now