Andrew Brooker continues his challenge to watch 365 films in 365 days. Here’s how he got on back in May.
“Y’all jokers must be crazy.”
February. Awards month. This second diary entry starts with a list of Oscar nominated films I would love to get through before the awards ceremony on the last Sunday of the month. Try as I might, I don’t have the time nor energy to travel up and down the country to obscure little picturehouses to watch three hour French films about the government’s war on Brussels sprouts (I don’t know what any of these films are about. Call that an educated guess) so that pipe dream was never going to be doable.
Maybe that’s a tick list for next year. One challenge at a time. Maybe next year will be the year I watch every single nominated film. For now, it’s all about these 365 films I have to watch. So…
The first week felt pretty busy when it came to films. More blind luck than organisation, the month started by knocking another film of the blu-ray pile of shame; The Martian‘s extended cut burned through our evening on day one. I honestly forgot how good that film was.
The three year old’s journey through the MCU continued with Iron Man 2 on the same night we bought foreign film Oscar nom A Man Called Ove. The Saturday of the Failed Critics Pubcast gave me train time for a first watch of 1984’s Bad Taste and a repeat visit to Luc Besson’s Lucy. A family trip for the excellent Lego Batman Movie, followed by the pretty rubbish Gold was how that Sunday started. Rounded it off with the traditional yearly watch of Any Given Sunday.
Early February ended a bit of a mixed bag. The hopefully final but surprisingly fun Resident Evil movie was certainly better than the first Schumacher Batman that I somehow ended up watching. But with the last films of the week being the great Hidden Figures and the sublime Gone Baby Gone, things were looking up.
In my misguided attempt to watch all the Oscar nominated films, I forced myself through a couple of horrendous films to start week two. Michael Bay’s Stars and Stripes masturbatory fantasy that is 13 Hours may be one of the worst things I’ve ever seen. Followed by the promising, but overall sleep inducing Passengers felt like the worst way to continue this challenge. Luckily, the newly released “Definitive Directors Cut” of Heat was enough to cleanse the palette.
The next few days was a mix of first watches and old favourites. John Wick and Training Day filling the quota of films we’d seen before; while new films were covered by The Girl With All The Gifts and Fences. All superb choices, if I do say so myself. The bizarre documentary Beware the Slenderman was our Saturday night viewing this week. Four films on the Sunday filled in my numbers nicely, I finished off the weekend with the beautiful, boner inducing “Black and Chrome” cut of Mad Max: Fury Road.
Luckily, work was quiet as this week carried on. An empty office and a stack of paperwork meant iTunes films to pass the time. A couple of films at work, the original Jungle Book with the kid when I got home and I ended the week with an early contender for film of the year, John Wick: Chapter 2.
More films at work mean that by the time we are watching Leon that evening – another from the Pile of Shame – I’ve added three more to the list. Revisiting last year’s War on Everyone, along with an impromptu Paranorman watch and rewatching Antoine Fuqua’s Shooter meant my list had a diverse selection being added.
Excellent espionage thriller/comic book film Captain America: The Winter Soldier and The Founder clocked in at numbers 98 and 99 on my spreadsheet. Leaving space for something special for the next milestone. Film 100 was the first watch of this year, the seventeenth since the film came out almost a year ago to the day. Film 100 was the one, the only, Deadpool.
A couple of animated films, that included the surreal but fun A Cat in Paris brought up the rear for the most part this week. I also managed to get my sticky hands on a review screener for the latest film from one of my favourite directors to end this week. If you ever get the chance, you should definitely watch James Cullen Bressack’s Bethany.
The month begins to come to a close. The original cut of Mad Max: Fury Road kicks things off (yes, a different cut is a different film. My challenge, my rules). Peter Berg’s Patriots Day and Gore Verbinski’s A Cure For Wellness meant the week had an up and down middle section. You can hear me wax lyrical about both on the Oscar fallout podcast. This week also saw us dig into one of the worst films we have ever seen; Nude Nuns with Big Guns is just as award worthy as you think it is.
Loads of films with the kid this week, too. On request, we saw three, THREE, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movies. The two recent ones and the original 1990 version. Creepy, rapey Michelangelo aside, they ain’t the worst movies in the world. And she loved them, that’s all that matters. It’s the same reason I sat through the Angry Birds Movie again! Luckily, she didn’t watch our final one of that weekend, we watched the dug in to The Greasy Strangler. Just… wow.
Finally, after weeks of joking around about how ridiculous it is that we could live in a world where Suicide Squad won an academy award, it actually happened. So a rewatch of the film I loved that everyone else despised; the Oscar winning Suicide Squad. Then, as I write this, I’m in my seat at the local IMAX waiting for the premiere of Logan to begin. And thanks to Fox’s brilliant marketing ploy to show it at 10.23pm, it still counts as a February film. And much like last month, the second I turn this in, it’s onto writing the review.
This is getting tiring. But at this point, I’ve done more than half of the number I totalled last year. That can’t be bad.
Two months in the bag. Only ten to go.
Films seen this month: 54
Current count, as of 28th of February: 114 of 365.
A series where the Failed Critics look back on a particular decade in the world of cinema, choosing their favourite films from each year of that decade
My plastic surgeon doesn’t want me doing any activity where balls fly at my nose.
Less of a high school movie and more of a religious experience, Clueless charts the coming of age of me, and many other women now residing in their early thirties and still hopelessly in love with Paul Rudd. Meanwhile the twenty-something cast who played the students are somewhat older; Cher’s best friend Dion (actress Stacey Dash) turns 48 in a couple months. “Old people can be so sweet!”
Loosely based on Jane Austen’s Emma, the cute but selfish Cher Horowitz (Alicia Silverstone) realises that tis a far far better thing doing stuff for other people, and sets out on a mission to makeover, match make and mend herself, her friends, and the wider Beverly Hills community. A soundtrack of cheesy power ballads, maudlin cry baby music, and even a performance from The Mighty Mighty Bosstones. And a wardrobe that anyone who didn’t look like Alicia Silverstone would struggle to pull off, no matter how many different white shirts they tried under their knitted tank top. It’s been argued that Mean Girls had a bigger influence than Clueless on popular culture. Whatever.
4. Toy Story
The word I’m searching for, I can’t say, because there’s preschool toys present.
I know. I tried to go a single year of this decade without picking an animation, but come on! You try not picking Toy Story. While Disney’s early nineties run of classics came to something of an abrupt end in 1995, with the release of historical Native American romance drama Pocahontas, a little known studio called Pixar turned up and blew us all away in the time it took Tom Hanks to say “Pull my string! The birthday party’s today?”
A stellar supporting cast including a shy dinosaur, a slinky dachshund, and a self-assured piggy bank. Barbie was originally intended to join the toy box as Woody’s love interest, however Mattel initially refused to license the character. So instead Woody hooked up with a porcelain figurine of Bo Peep, voiced by Annie Potts (Ghostbusters receptionist Janine Melnitz). This freed up Barbie for a fantastic guided tour of Al’s Toy Barn in Toy Story 2 and, more importantly, warranted the arrival of Michael Keaton’s outstanding take on Ken in Toy Story 3. Some things are just meant to be.
The first animated film to be nominated for a writing Academy Award. The start of genuinely one of the most flawless movie trilogies of all time.
I do what I do best, I take scores. You do what you do best, try to stop guys like me.
Proof that you shouldn’t get married without the ability to communicate via secret hand gestures. Most unnecessary inclusion of Val Kilmer on a film poster ever. Al Pacino saying “She’s got a GREAT ASS!”. Thanks to the dangerous combination of being an action movie and being set in LA, Heat was (to use Clueless terminology) brutally rebuffed by the Academy, picking up not a single Oscar nomination. Nonetheless, it remains almost 3 hours of crime thriller bank heist brilliance.
The first collaboration of Al Pacino & Robert De Niro in the same scene (both having previously starred in The Godfather Part II without sharing screen time). Creator Michael Mann describes it as “two protagonists…in deadly mortal combat with each other, (who) at the same time have a high regard for each other”, and based the relationship on the experiences of a real life Chicago cop from the sixties. Get Kilmer off the cover art though, seriously. He made Batman Forever the same year, for crying out loud. And then he celebrated by coming to Leicester for the premiere. No, not Leicester Square, actual Leicester.
Long term readers will, of course, have already seen Heat, after I instructed you to watch it on TV last April. One of the films I most enjoy pretending I am in, while doing banal things like walking down the street, and entering banks without robbing them.
Welcome to Music Town, may I service you?
In a lifetime, you’ll get maybe a handful of films that really encapsulate you at various ages. Empire Records is my teen angst era. When I wasn’t hanging around the second hand cd stores of Leicester, or writing A level essays on Sir Robert Peel, I was watching this. And while I didn’t necessarily share their drug habits, mental health issues or compulsions to sleep with aging pop stars, I was all about their inner turmoil.
Another coming of age tale, this time set in the independent record store of my very dreams. Anthony LaPaglia and said bunch of angsty teens (including Renée Zellweger and Liv Tyler) provide the public with music, and attempt to avoid corporate takeover. All the plaid skirts, baggy pants and swearing you’d expect from early nineties youth. With a soundtrack as eclectic as a movie set in a record store should be – this is the film that introduced me to Dire Straits’ Romeo & Juliet, for crying out loud.
In their wisdom, Warner Brothers made the only available version of the DVD a ‘Special Fan Edition’, adding 16 minutes of additional footage, and ruining the flow of the entire film for anyone who knew it off by heart having watched the VHS copy every morning for six months and calling it study leave. I could be a little over-emotionally invested in this one, to the point where I would erroneously rank it above the first on screen cinematic alliance of Al Pacino and Robert De Niro. But I doubt it.
Is that the one about the hooker with dysentery?
When Dan Hedaya wasn’t playing Cher’s litigator father in Clueless, he was the LA cop whose messy office had an unexpected role in a drug deal gone bad. Starring an incredibly youthful Kevin Spacey, with brilliant support from, among others, Pete Postlethwaite as terrifying ice cold lawyer Kobayashi, and Benicio del Toro as the truly captivating Fenster. Set in the aftermath of a ship fire, and told via a police interrogation and a series of flashbacks, The Usual Suspects is the story of a police line-up, and a Turkish criminal mastermind.
The screenplay won both the Oscar and the BAFTA, and the Writers Guild of American ranked it number 35 in their 101 Greatest Screenplays ever written. The very epitome of a twist ending. I’d love to be able to play the piano, but only if I could be proficient in certain songs (I Guess That’s Why They Call It The Blues, Don’t Stop Me Now, Piano Man). Similarly, if I was going to be a screenwriter, I’d want to be churning out stuff of this quality on a semi regular basis. Imagine being the guy who sits down and writes Keyser Soze. I’m not even worthy of writing this two paragraph review of that writing. I should have just picked Bad Boys.