Men v Women: 0-0 AET
Sorry for yet another unexpected gap in transmission. I spent the weekend in London where I went to see David Mamet's Oleanna at the Garrick Theatre, starring Aaron Eckhart and Julia Stiles. For the first ten minutes the actors didn't appear to be listening to each other's lines, and yet given the central theme of a man and a woman failing to communicate through adoption of intransigent positions, this was probably intentional. Eckhart is a less likeable performer than the original play/film's William H Macy, but the fact that his arrogant swagger and muscular physique offers a more palpable sexual threat to his young charge actually works in the play's favour in terms of presenting a more complex moral conundrum. Stiles meanwhile, seems perfectly cast as the student concerned for her grades, wilfully vacillating between vulnerability and assertion to get what she wants. A word too for 'fight director' Terry King for the superbly choreographed and genuinely disturbing climax. Short and punchy (it's a two-act two-hander, lasting 1hr 40m including intermission), this was a thoroughly absorbing production of a play still throwing out relevant challenges to theatre audiences a dozen years on from its initial debut.
Then moved on to The ICA to see Olivier Assayas' blue-chip thriller Demon Lover starring Connie Neilsen, Chloe Sevigny, Gina Gershon and Charles Berling. Roundly booed at The Cannes Festival in 2002, the film has since seen something of a critical renaissance over in the US, and the auditorium was surprisingly full for the early evening showing. Owing much visually to dePalma and thematically to Cronenberg, the film follows the double-crossing, hotel-hopping antics of new-media business executives involved in a takeover bid for a state of the art 3-D manga company, which takes a turn for the perverse when a strange and interactive torture website is introduced to the negotiating desktop. Similarly to Oleanna, Demon Lover seems to be about the way people are prevented from enjoying the intimacy they ultimately crave through the distractions of work, status and materialism. Derided by some as a film as cold and pretentious as the characters it portrays, Assayas' movie is certainly not for all tastes, but I personally loved every swish and sexy moment of it, and it's my favourite new film since Mulholland Drive. I'm anticipating an imminent DVD release, so for the timid or conventional I would recommend rental, but fans of Cronenberg, Lynch and/or Sonic Youth (who provide the soundtrack) may choose to upgrade to outright purchase.
Next day, I caught up with Quentin Tarantino's Kill Bill Vol 2, which was better than expected, and not nearly as dull as I'd been lead to believe by some sniffy reviews. Unlike The Matrix sequels, KBV2 does a pretty good job of answering all the questions raised by the first film, adding depth, colour and humanity as well as a satisfactory backstory to the revenge rampage. I'm not sure I'm totally convinced about the film showing QT's feminist side, though: while it's good to see him empowering a woman with the lead role, The Bride's revenge is simply (and in one instance, literally) Old Testament eye-for-an-eye, whereas the memorable source of the devastation is the familiar male pattern rage of David Carradine's Bill. Like many a husband and employer before him, he is quite simply unable to face the prospect of losing his place in a woman's priorities to her unborn child, and reacts with the swift ruthlessness of the trained assassin he is. However, while not without its faults (Tarantino's dubious wit and borderline racism are both in evidence here), there still won't be many better films released than Kill Bill Vol 2 this year, for sure.
Sorry for yet another unexpected gap in transmission. I spent the weekend in London where I went to see David Mamet's Oleanna at the Garrick Theatre, starring Aaron Eckhart and Julia Stiles. For the first ten minutes the actors didn't appear to be listening to each other's lines, and yet given the central theme of a man and a woman failing to communicate through adoption of intransigent positions, this was probably intentional. Eckhart is a less likeable performer than the original play/film's William H Macy, but the fact that his arrogant swagger and muscular physique offers a more palpable sexual threat to his young charge actually works in the play's favour in terms of presenting a more complex moral conundrum. Stiles meanwhile, seems perfectly cast as the student concerned for her grades, wilfully vacillating between vulnerability and assertion to get what she wants. A word too for 'fight director' Terry King for the superbly choreographed and genuinely disturbing climax. Short and punchy (it's a two-act two-hander, lasting 1hr 40m including intermission), this was a thoroughly absorbing production of a play still throwing out relevant challenges to theatre audiences a dozen years on from its initial debut.
Then moved on to The ICA to see Olivier Assayas' blue-chip thriller Demon Lover starring Connie Neilsen, Chloe Sevigny, Gina Gershon and Charles Berling. Roundly booed at The Cannes Festival in 2002, the film has since seen something of a critical renaissance over in the US, and the auditorium was surprisingly full for the early evening showing. Owing much visually to dePalma and thematically to Cronenberg, the film follows the double-crossing, hotel-hopping antics of new-media business executives involved in a takeover bid for a state of the art 3-D manga company, which takes a turn for the perverse when a strange and interactive torture website is introduced to the negotiating desktop. Similarly to Oleanna, Demon Lover seems to be about the way people are prevented from enjoying the intimacy they ultimately crave through the distractions of work, status and materialism. Derided by some as a film as cold and pretentious as the characters it portrays, Assayas' movie is certainly not for all tastes, but I personally loved every swish and sexy moment of it, and it's my favourite new film since Mulholland Drive. I'm anticipating an imminent DVD release, so for the timid or conventional I would recommend rental, but fans of Cronenberg, Lynch and/or Sonic Youth (who provide the soundtrack) may choose to upgrade to outright purchase.
Next day, I caught up with Quentin Tarantino's Kill Bill Vol 2, which was better than expected, and not nearly as dull as I'd been lead to believe by some sniffy reviews. Unlike The Matrix sequels, KBV2 does a pretty good job of answering all the questions raised by the first film, adding depth, colour and humanity as well as a satisfactory backstory to the revenge rampage. I'm not sure I'm totally convinced about the film showing QT's feminist side, though: while it's good to see him empowering a woman with the lead role, The Bride's revenge is simply (and in one instance, literally) Old Testament eye-for-an-eye, whereas the memorable source of the devastation is the familiar male pattern rage of David Carradine's Bill. Like many a husband and employer before him, he is quite simply unable to face the prospect of losing his place in a woman's priorities to her unborn child, and reacts with the swift ruthlessness of the trained assassin he is. However, while not without its faults (Tarantino's dubious wit and borderline racism are both in evidence here), there still won't be many better films released than Kill Bill Vol 2 this year, for sure.
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