90's REWIND:

THE CRYING GAME (1992)

1992's The Crying Game has stood the cinematic test of time. Directed by Neil Jordan and produced by long-term collaborator Stephen Woolley,the film essentially kick-started the 1990's with an explosion of originality, and gave 90s audiences much hope for the future of the British film industry.

The film takes place during the troubles, and follows the character of Fergus, a member of the IRA. Fergus is involved in taking care of a British prisoner of African American descent, Jody, played by Forrest Whitaker. The two form a brief bond, and Jody tells Fergus of his love for a woman called Dil (Jaye Davidson), with Jody's last wish being, in spirit, that Fergus  seeks her out and takes care of her. You know from the offset, he's not making it out alive.

The Crying Game was that sadly extremely rare example of a British film that just got everything right: it respected the audience,it made British cinema respectable, it re-invented its genre, and it made the industry a substantial profit off the back of a relatively low budget film. This rarely occurs, but other examples include Billy Elliot and The Full Monty.

The Crying Game is smart, not just for its original conclusion, but because despite it being set during the troubles, it manages to craft a really compelling, often amusing, emotive drama off the back off them, and I believe this is an extremely tough feat to pull off.

The acting from all involved is exceptional, and the whole film just glides along without fault, with every tough and uncompromising theme and situation somehow still managing to stay afloat against its very offbeat  concept and blend of ideas. Neil Jordan is one the best filmmakers we have, and I very much doubt anyone else could have delivered on this material, and certainly not in this way.

With a story like this one, you run the risk of making your film about something it is not. In the sense, The Crying Game is not about the IRA, but they serve to tie the whole structure of the film together. The opening 15-20 minutes are, upon first viewing,  quite shocking or they were, and we get a very intimate take on a hostage situation, but then the film does a 360 degree turn, and we're into romantic drama territory, with the IRA element returning for the films conclusion.

It works perfectly, and I'm not entirely sure how. The film has all these different intertwined ideas working cohesively, and I think that just must be the hallmark of a talented filmmaker, crew, and cast.

I love cinema , but in recent decades, time and time again, I'm in the theatre enjoying parts of a film, but not the whole (case in point, The Mishape of Water, a truly abysmal work of cinema that nevertheless walked away with best picture at the Oscars). In the sense, much of modern cinema lacks the cohesive glue to bind all its grand creative ideas together into one. So if you've got a grand idea, and you want to tell me your story as a filmmaker, take your time to ensure every idea works cohesively as one film, otherwise  neither the film nor the message carry and its a waste of my time.

The film doesn't softly creep around what it wants to say, which I admired. This is most evident in the  films first half, which, ironically, has British hostage Jody killed not by the IRA, but accidentally by over-zealous British soldiers who suddenly storm the area with helicopters and jeeps full

of soldiers, killing everyone they can on sight, unaware they've just mowed down one of their own.

Basically, when there are two apposing destructive powers, in conflict,  individual parties cannot be differentiated in times of such chaos,as they are both aggressors, and therefore one and the same.

Despite its relatively tough subject matter, the film is very funny, and despite being nearly 30 years old, it still evokes present day themes, and raises unanswerable questions concerning the human condition and human perception.

With one being, what truly defines a woman, and emotional attachment to a woman, when you later realise that woman was actually a man?

 GROUNDHOG DAY (1993) 

I really struggle with comedy. I'm still and always have been on the fence about where it stands in cinema. That being said, I do admire some of them, and 1993's Groundhog Day tastes alright to me.

Expertly directly by former Ghostbuster Harold Ramis, the film is evocative of 1940's American screwball comedies, from the likes of Frank Capra or Preston Sturges. The 1940's was  a period of American cinema that did, for a time, make the comedy genre respectable and worthwhile.

Groundhog Day was  a 1940's romantic  comedy for the 1990's generation. It has that slightly more crude, at times purile, comedy that the 1940's films didn't, but it shares those films romanticism, and directorial craft.

Actor Bill Murray has organic chemistry with actress Andie MacDowell, and for all intents and purposes we just haven't seen it again in this genre of cinema.

Everyone knows  the story, sardonic weatherman Phil Connors inadvertently gets trapped in a time loop  and relives the same damn Groundhog Day on a loop, which happens to involve symbol of his affection and co-worker, Rita (Andie MacDowell).

It is this subtle and ambiguous fantasy element that makes this film fascinating. There is never any explanation for Phil's situation, but at the same time, it feels to have purpose. In the sense, it doesn't just seem like a outlandish plot device. It just somehow resonates and works and you don't question it as a viewer.

We just feel and instantly understand that the loop is allowing Phil to get things right with Rita, and win her affections. It is this romantic, almost idealistic, fantasy aspect to the film that just connects with people so much they don't really concern themselves with any substantive rational for the time loop. 

The film just somehow gets completely away its outlandish plot, and it is in this capacity that it stands as not just comedy, but smart comedy and comedy that served its genre and American cinema very well indeed.

In 2006, the film was added to the United States National Film Registry as being deemed "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant".

NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD (1990)

Remakes are hard to pull off, but they are often interesting, even if they don't always work.

Special effects artist and personal friend of 1968's  Night of the Living Dead director George Romero, Tom Savini, directed this respectable effort from the 1990's, which is a hit, if not a complete home run.

As many critics have pointed out, the remake does not deliver what we have come to expect from Tom Savini (it isn't particularly gory). The film downplays the gore and instead builds on tension and atmosphere, creating a real sense of claustrophobia as resilient hero Ben joins the feisty yet vulnerable, Barbara, defending a remote farmhouse from a morbidly imaginative, if not grotesque, selection of marauding zombies.

Actor Tony Todd, best known for his portrayal of Daniel Robatille or Candyman, delivers in the role of Ben, but there is a crucial lack of chemistry between himself and actress Patricia Tallman, whom just doesn't work well in the role of Barbara. She's a fine actress, but  this story hinges, somewhat, on this connection between Ben and Barbara.

The effects in the film are decent, but are beginning to show their age; the film is also complemented by a very strong score, and set design.

The 90's Night of the Living is not a movie we need to pick a part, unlike the groundbreaking original. It is a well crafted and entertaining horror film nevertheless, and during the films conclusion it goes a little further than George Romero in its moralistic message concerning the true nature of the human condition in times of hysteria, and it's during these fleeting moments that I feel this movie had the potential to have been so much more.

LAWN DOGS (1997)

1997's Lawn Dogs is a lost classic. The film did not have much publicity upon release and took next to nothing at the U.S box-office, but through rentals and television airings a cult audience grew and so did the films respect.

The film explores the slightly unorthodox relationship between 10-year-old Devon, a young girl from an upper-middle class American gated community, and down on his luck working class drifter Trent, who happens to mow the lawns, amongst other things.

Devon’s home life is toxic, and she has been abused and neglected by her parents, whom are also in a toxic marriage. The couple are knee deep in suburban Americana and all about keeping up appearances and superficiality. 

Despite her young age, Devon is seeking some sort of spiritual escape from her predicament, and finds solace in Trent, whom is the polar opposite of everything her parents stand for or pretend to stand for, and indeed and more crucially the great American dream.

The two of them embark on a sort of brief cathartic rural road trip so Trent can close a few loose ends in his life, and they grow close along the way. Sadly, the perceived unorthodox nature of their connection, coupled with the age gap and the differing class statuses of the two, catches up with them, and so does Devon's toxic and abusive situation with her father which climaxes in the films conclusion where both Trent's personal journey and her own  interweave and the film gives us a sort of symbolic fairy-tale ending, not unlike a contemporary suburban fairy-tale.

When cinema challenges conventionality or successfully shines a light on a painful subject (family abuse and neglect), or anything, that is outside the box or controversial then it is doing what it was created for. In the sense, cinema should strive to reach beyond that which we cannot in life or convey ideas that we cannot put don't on paper or in some cases comprehend in reality, which is the essence of fantasy and make believe and that truly is the purpose of cinema - pure escapism.

Cinemas continued success, and the very motivation of its creation in the first place, tells us that, as race on earth, we are generally  most comfortable when we are closed off from reality, even just for an hour or two. I don't believe there should be a precise explanation for this, but various interpretations. 

Could life itself, or the way society has engineered life, be at odds with most people's idea of happiness, and cinema or fantasy is satisfying something in the subconscious, or is life  itself an evolutionary mistake and these creations, and those like it (comics, books,) a man made necessity?

Either-way, as time moves forward, even the wisest amongst us would be first to say we are fucking the planet up left-right-and centre, so I for one take temporary solace from this thing we are now coining reality.

Lawn Dogs is evocative of contemporary modern-day fantasy, particularly referencing the tale of Baba Yaga, and actress Mischa Barton encapsulates everything you would imagine a conflicted child in search of fantasy would. The film, in the story it tells, successfully bridges the gap between poetic childhood interpretations of the world and the cold hard reality of middle America.

Lawn Dogs is a personal favourite and it is somewhat ironic that a movie that made no impact back in 1997 has stood the test of time to become one of the most significant, important, and memorable cinematic creations of the 90's.

DESPERADO (1995)

1995 saw the release of Desperado. The film could be compared to Sergio Leone on acid for

the 90's generation, and it is great.

Basically, El Mariachi (Antonio Banderas), a sort of man with no name character, is out for revenge after his wife is brutally murdered by a ruthless drug lord and gang leader in Mexico.

That is really all you need to know.

Upon release the film was criticised for having a lack of story, but I feel this is missing the point of Desperado altogether. The film is pure cinema and is engineered to tell its story visually. Director Robert Rodriguez is a visual storyteller, and his work here, which is brought to life by truly exceptional cinematographer Guillermo Navarro is remarkable as both a feat of film and just cinema as a creation.

If Desperado was full of dialogue and excessive story, then it would not work and would undermine the character of El Mariachi and the physicality of the film as a whole. This is very tactile, gritty, sweaty, yet excessively stylish film-making.

I fell in love with Desperado when I first saw it in the 90's and when I heard a sequel was on the horizon, I was first in line. The sequel would be 'Once Upon A Time in Mexico', and the moment I heard the title my heart sank. It just was not cool, like Desperado, and felt awkward.

Low and behold, the film was released, and it was exactly that - awkward.

Basically, they took everything that good about Desperado (the unknown, style over substance) and filled the film with a silly overly elaborate story-line concerning a bewildered CIA informer, or something. It was truly a load of bollocks.

I viewed Desperado recently and I was surprised at just how well it has stood the cinematic test of time, and it made me think just how unique many films of the 1990's are. I think the 90's was a noticeably confident time for cinema. There were so many confident movies released in the 1990's (American Beauty, The Usual Suspects) that just delivered, regardless of worrying about being politically correct or challenging cinematic conventions.

The attitude of the decade appeared to be we'll put it out there and worry about the consequences later. But today’s cinema is the reverse. Filmmakers appear to worry about what themes they want to convey (in order to fit politically correct box), and in turn damage the creative process by diluting their own ideas.

Robert Rodriguez would fall into the very trap he started off deliberately avoiding: the trap of  corporate cinema, and I hope he returns to his roots and delivers something like this 90's masterpiece.

RESERVOIR DOGS (1992)

American director Quentin Tarantino's effortlessly stylish independent debut was released in 1992. The film had a critical, commercial, and controversial impact both in America and in the United Kingdom (A Nightmare on Elm Street director Wes Craven walked out of a screening and the film wasn't released on video in U.K until 1994).

In hindsight, I believe the controversy was not fair, nor do I think it harmed the film. In the sense, Quentin Tarantino became known as a filmmaker that would in effect make violence stylish, so Reservoir Dogs, the tale of a failed heist, courtesy of  colour coded crooks, was the perfect calling card in cause and effect. If a film challenges or breaks new ground in any way shape or form, it is pushing the format further and meeting the medium at the best of its ideals.

Quentin Tarantino claims he was inspired by 1970's American heist movies, or the need, in cinema, to bring this genre back from the dead. However, in my opinion, Reservoir Dogs owes more to theatre (almost a Shakespearean tragedy in disguise). The film relishes its cast and is fuelled by the dialogue.

The actors are allowed to breathe, the cinematography is organic and natural, and the surroundings (an abandoned warehouse) allow for more light to be given to the actors. As a result, Reservoir Dogs makes for really easy and enjoyable viewing. Hence, it seems odd to me that it was shunned, at the time, by some viewers.

The film features a relatively brief, though not particularly gory but still harrowing, depiction of the torture and subsequent shooting of a police officer. As far as this sequence is concerned, I believe if cinematic violence of any kind is done within the context of the given story, and it supports the story, then it is justified. This sequence is crucial to the story ark for many reasons. Not least, you quickly lose sympathy for the band of crooks and start being overly concerned about the fate of the undercover cop hidden amongst them. It is a sequence that shifts the dynamics of the situation of the characters and heightens the tension for the audience.

Reservoir Dogs is particularly stylish. It is testosterone driven male dominated cinema about out of control and unstable men, but they all wear suits and enjoy the super sounds of the 1970's, which just somehow gets them off the hook.

In 1992, Reservoir Dogs got the 90's off to an exciting start. We not only had a taste of a truly exceptional film-making talent, but also saw signs that you really didn't need a large studio budget to bring a tale to the screen which captured that childlike ability to unlock the cost-less yet limitless open door of the imagination. Reservoir Dog's screenplay is so smart that almost every scene has something visually absent but is delivered so vividly that your mind just fills in the blanks.

Overall, Reservoir Dogs was a film that shaped the 1990's and gave way to two more ground-breaking works of cinema, Pulp Fiction (94) and Jackie Brown (97). Without Reservoir Dogs, I believe we'd be looking at an entirely different film industry today and its influence on film, filmmakers, and our own pop culture both in England and America, continues as I write.