The Hollywood Split Part 1 - OR - Breaking Deathly Dawn's Hallows

The Hollywood Split isn’t the newest dance craze (although it really should be). Nor is it a botoxed fruity desert. It is instead an expression geniusly coined by WITATaS to sum-up a recent and increasingly common cinematic trend.

It starts with a book, as most good stories do. Which is turned into a film, as most good books are. Which is turned into a series, as most good films are. But then, unhappy with the (likely) multi-billion dollars or so gross earnings for the series up to its engorged denouement, studio execs think to themselves: ‘Hey, do you what’s better than a billion dollars?’, ‘No, Flatulent Nipplebean I don’t, what is better than a billon dollars?’, ‘Why, another billion dollars of course, my dear Grandiloquent Guffmuncher!’ Then they laugh a haughty laugh as the world burns in the fury of divine righteous judgement.

Prostitution is far more pervasive than you realise.

Harry Potter started it and its baton has been picked up by an increasing queue of children’s literary favourites waiting for admission into Blockbuster-ville. First Twilight with Breaking Dawn, then The Hunger Gamesannounced a two-movie split for the concluding book Mockingjay and most recently Peter Jackson perplexed Bagginses and Tooks everywhere by announcing that The Hobbit would be not two but three films. The most obvious reason, as with a depressing majority of cinematic decisions, is money. More of it principally. Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows Part 2, as well as triggering asphyxiation, hunted down an extra $1.3 billion for the drooling maws of Warner Bros. Breaking Dawn Part 2 is on much the same track.

Now there’s nothing wrong with making money. Anyone who goes into a business not looking to come out a little shinier on the other side has got the wrong end of the heavenly ordained Capitalist-dominion stick. But the issue with The Hollywood Split is twofold: (1) the sheer untamable greed and desire for more and (2) its justification. Nowhere will you find an exec holding up his pudgy little paws and saying ‘I like the cash.’  That would be unabashed and - depending on your disposition - respectable honesty, a word with less circulation than the phrase ‘strong female protagonist.’ Instead, the marketing and PR vultures spout on about ‘artistic integrity’ – a phrase as concrete as an ant’s fart – and ‘staying faithful to the book.’ The sheer baseless lie of the whole phenomenon, the insistence on it being something more than it is, is what makes The Hollywood Split worse than a split lip on a cold winter’s day, than a groinal split on your favourite pair of jeans. Not to mention it’s the embodiment of the dire lack of originality in bigger budget productions.

So let’s take a look at two of the four films mentioned above, Harry Potter’sJason with it’s eager Augernauts.  Who’s in just for the money and who (if any) have more respectable dreams?

The Despicable: Breaking Dawn

Rudolph was never quite the same after those steroids.

A lot of the issues – and there are an awful lot of issues – with Breaking Dawn Part 2 are covered in this review. And they’re all relevant again here. So, where to start…

How about with it’s fetid pacing draped lazily over the barest bones of a narrative derived from the fact that there was no more narrative for it to follow from the book? Or how about it’s insipid cardboard cutout characters filled with all the personality and intrigue of a damp leaf resultant of the fact that they had nowhere else to go following Breaking Dawn Part 1? Yes, Part 2 was the worst (or should that be best) summary of some of the most despisable money-grabbing techniques of cinema. It’s a film that exists solely for the point of existing and served less than no purpose both in terms of cinematic expression and the progression of it’s own deigesis. Its only purpose was, it seems, to make its long-time fans squeal with delight while throwing fistfuls of cash at the cinema-screen to be hoovered up later. Something at which it succeeded with remarkable proficiency. And we can all be sad/self-hating for that. 

There’s also something cowardly in that fact that it waited for Harry Potter to go first before making its announcement, like waiting for a friend to check the temperature of the swimming pool before greedily jumping in. There is absolutely no way in hell, heaven or any other plane of probably fictional existence that Part 2 was created to better express the story of it’s papery brother. There simply is not enough story there to validate over four hours of broody, turgid cinema with the majestically crafted cop-out of an ending adding the glassy icing to world’s worst cauliflower-flavoured cake.

The Dodgy: The Deathly Hallows

'Holy s**t! What happened to Rudolph?'

Not as bad as Breaking Dawn Part 2 this one, but in terms of money-making monsters Breaking Dawn would have to look to Scrooge McDuck in order to find some semblance of a moral high-ground.

As mentioned before, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows was the instigator, the Rocky to cheesetastic montages, of this modern trend. In the grander context of the Harry Potter film series, Deathly Hallows Part 2 was the prime cut by a significant margin as this review attests. With a frenetic pace, incredible set-pieces, well-pitched character growth and general ‘not boring-ness’ it was a highlight of it’s own canon and of the year 2011 in cinema. And that’s precisely the problem.

The finesse and sheer quality of construction of Deathly Hallows Part 2is testament to the excellence that a Deathly Hallow films should have had, far removed from the wallowing, vacant and superficial void that was DH Part 1. Nothing really happens. And everything that does happen could easily have been surmised in one half hour or so segment at the beginning of a unified Deathly Hallows film, rather than stretching out to a whole film of the world’s most dreary camping trip. Road Trip this ain’t.

There are efforts to fan service granted and the film goes out of it’s way to ensure no stone is left unturned and no scene is left unfilmed. But this a mistake in cinema. Films and books are, and this may be surprising, very different beasts. They evoke us in different, equally commendable ways and therefore must be pitched in similarly different forms. One of the primary delights of a book is its ability to weave in and out of a billion active parallel sub-narratives, dipping in and out of them as everything comes together to form a well-fitting suit. Such a technique in cinema on the other hand, unless handled with utmost care and skill, can create an ambling, tonally jarring and ultimately boring experience. It is much the same with DH Part 1; a lot of what is seen could quite as merrily not be seen. The Harry Potter film series was previously sadistic in its glee at cutting out various sub-narratives and curios (House Elf Liberation Front anyone?) so it’s odd and a little suspicious that Deathly Hallows, the book that could have best benefitted from such treatment, was treated differently.

A billion dollars worth of suspicious

He only does it when they watch, their anguish gets him going.

While originally planned to be one article The Hollywood Split grew and grew into a monstrously long tirade against something very few people will actually care about. Such is the Internet. With this is mind, there’s going to be 2 parts! Please try and contain your excitement. We’ve seen the worst of the trend this week, the real damnable and shamefaced attempts at pick-pocketing your hard-earned pennies. But it’s not all bad news! Next week, in part 2, because 2 follows 1, we’ll look at some of the more commendable disciples of Hollywood’s newest money machine.

Until then: peace, goodwill and a merry (insert religious festival of choice) to you all!

PART 2 IS NOW A THING THAT EXISTS! Go read it with your eyes and the bits of your brain that control your eyes:

http://smariman.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/the-hollywood-split-part-2-or.html

Oh, would you like a hyperlink instead? Well okay you greedy dickens, but I spoil you.

Like the brilliant camera man in the video, start your festivities with a laugh:

As a final note, please follow me on Twitter: @smariman. You'll get told of updates and new posts as soon as they happen as well as the odd desperate attempt at being funny, entertaining and likeable. Such is life.

Read More

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey Review - OR - Hairy Dwarf Jam

Plot

Bilbo Baggins (Martin Freeman) is a hobbit used to a life of peace, quiet and a jolly full pantry. Unfortunately for him however, inscrutable friendly Wizard Gandalf (Ian McKellen) has other plans, arriving unexpectedly one night at bewildered Bilbo’s doorstep with 13 rowdy, hairy and generally Celtic dwarves in tow. Led by would-be king Thorin Oakenshield (Richard Armitage), the raucous group is on a quest to the Lonely Mountain to defeat the vicious dragon Smaug and reclaim their birthright homeland. As well as all that lovely gold stuff. Bilbo, after some mentorly cajoling from the wise wizard, tags along for the adventure of a lifetime.

Porn budgets have gone through the roof.

Review

It’s been nearly a decade. Nearly an entire decade since the The Lord of the Rings film series concluded with the epic swan song that was The Return of the King. Just let that sink in for a second.

Since then there’s been games (and games) and enough television, film and general cultural references (note: the metric ton of memes) to boot Seth MacFarlane into a premature retirement. Now, back under the steady hands of Peter Jackson, there is a new trilogy this time based the The Hobbit.

13 dwarves, 1 toilet.

If there was a singular ‘best decision of the cinematic year award’ (and there really should be) there can only be one choice this year: Martin Freeman. Never before has an actor been so divinely suited for a role. Freeman’s nuanced fustiness, his undeniable likeability epitomised by a pithy exasperation taken almost frown-for-frown from The Office, suits the courageous resourcefulness of Bilbo down to his hairy toes. His endearing normality, a perfectly pitched ‘everyman’, makes him a rock for a sometimes disparate film clearly spinning the many sub-narrative plates necessary to turn this children’s bed-time favourite into a blockbuster cinematic trilogy.

Which raises an important point. There is a lot going on in An Unexpected Journey, little of which has much flesh on its bones. The plentiful fleeting references to important over-arching narrative and thematic devices are engaging, almost teasingly so, but feel a little out of place, like post-it memos for what to do later. The Necromancer, fortress Dol-Guldur, Saruman and the One Ring: all these splendidly garrulous devices-come-MacGuffins and more pepper Bilbo’s adventure like canned laughter on TVs newest doomed sitcom, seemingly there for the sake of it.

But, when it comes to Middle-Earth, such oppressive lore is part and parcel of the experience, an inevitability with the selfsame permanence of short hairy aggressive men. One of the major shameless qualities of An Unexpected Journey is its undeniable ‘fantasyness’, a quality rarely seen outside of Tolkein’s densely rich universe and one which would arguably have floundered under it’s own loquacious weight without the calm, passion and experience of Peter Jackson. As it is, the conflation of The Hobbit with the LotR appendices (from which Jackson has pilfered to buff The Hobbit into a trilogy) offers enough fantasy splendiferousness to make The Wizard of Oz look tame.

Production design is similarly commendable, not only in terms of its cinematic qualities – pushing the boundaries as always – but for its insistence on conflating set-based technology with natural locations; New Zealand has never looked so good. Old favourites such as Rivendell glow with an almost youthful luster, evoking the mythologised majesty so integral for that all-important ‘immersion’ factor. Newcomers equally impress, the presentation of the disputed city of Erebor and its abyssal golden ravines of every treasured gemstone imaginable doing a seminal job of adding credence to the dwarves’ seemingly suicidal undertaking.

This year's 'look the most constipated' competition
was a close one.

Aesthetically the film follows suit. Costuming and special effects again unite to juxtapose the primal brutality of the orcs (this time led by the deliciously unsettling ‘Pale Orc’) gobblins and trolls (a sort of Middle-Earthian slapstick comedy act) with the quaint rustic West-Country vibe of the hobbits, industrious rowdiness of the dwarves and surely satirical ponceyness of the elves.

However, An Unexpected Journey opts for a lighter, more playful experience than LotR and suffers tonally for it. The Hobbit unlike LotR is undeniably and unashamedly a children’s book and the film is testament to that. Sight gags, silly noises and general comedic inanity are often the order of the day (particularly with sideshow curio Radagast the Brown (Sylvester McCoy)) and, while not an overtly bad thing, contrast jarringly with the frequent, surprisingly quite violent, battle scenes. Ultimately, it seems as though An Unexpected Journey has been used as a field test, where every idea – including goofy hats and severed heads – are flung at a wall to see what sticks.

Verdict

An Unexpected Journey can be best summarised by its music: part bombastic rousing score of old, part chirpy tunes of a new direction. While still heavily dependent on the importance of ‘getting it’, An Unexpected Journey makes for a far less historically oppressive experience than its brothers. Equal parts coming-of-age-tale and frenetic chase movie, it is a film of varied aesthetic unified by a monumental central performance and absolute dedication to its own beauty. Peter Jackson, you did all right.

4/5

Go on an adventure (is what this by-line would say ironically):

As a final note, please follow me on Twitter: @smariman. You'll get told of updates and new posts as soon as they happen as well as the odd desperate attempt at being funny, entertaining and likeable. Such is life.

Read More

Breaking Dawn Part 2 Review - OR - The Adams Family: Retribution

Plot

After nearly dying during labour, Bella (Kristen Stewart) is finally a vampire after being saved by her now husband Edward (Robert Pattinson). Its still not an easy life for the couple though: their hybrid child Renesmee is growing at an exponential rate and, after being spotted by a vampire from a different coven, is reported to the all-powerful Volturi as being an illegal ‘immortal child.’ Together with help from the Cullen clan and best friend Jacob (Taylor Lautner) they must find a way to save their child and themselves.

After reading the script, the cast thought it best to improvise

Review

The thing with twist-endings is that if they’re implemented poorly then they are reallypoor. If an entire film is predicated on the effect of one instance it better be a bloody monumental one otherwise the entire experience will be left feeling fettered, lazy and sad. The Sixth Senseand ‘Luke, I’m your father’ are the kings of the twist (and shout) because they perfectly compliment and embody what their cinematic vehicle is about both in terms of narrative and thematic structure. Long story short: Breaking Dawn Part 2’s much marketed (that in itself a ludicrous paradox) and touted ‘twist’ is the worst example of what is increasingly debasing into a ‘cop-out’ device.

If Part 2 is evidence of anything it’s that a book can just as readily ruin a film as a film can spoil its more sedentary cousin. It’s also screaming evidence that there should never have been a second part in the first place. Simply put, there just isn’t enough there to validate four whole hours of cinema. Whereas the Harry Potter Deathly Hallows split just about got away with it due to the majesty of its cinematic universe, the Twilight Saga has no such backdrop to rely on: its dreary Washington State town setting filled with the most anguished cast of emotionally emo-phoric characters ever assembled hardly scream ‘magical fun.’

Kicking off almost immediately after the conclusion of Part 1, Part 2 finds Kristen Stewart’s freshly vamped Bella Swan looking remarkably sprightly for a woman who just endured the world’s worst labour. Very little is offered in the way of background or explanation with it simply being assumed that everyone coming to see the fifth film of a series has seen at least some of the previous installments. A fair assumption admittedly, but for the few (i.e. unfortunate boyfriend types) who are unacquainted with the series it is a jarring introduction.

Never eat the last chocolate finger.

 Swiftly, Part 2 launches into what is – surprisingly – one of its greatest strengths: Kristen Stewart. The life of pasty insomnia clearly agrees with Bella Swan. No longer is she the dowdy girl of infinite scowl and brooding emptiness; she’s an energetic vessel of endearing attitude and playfulness, too busy murdering lions for fun and food to sit on a chair and cry for half a year. Seeing Bella discovering her new abilities and life is a legitimately intriguing chunk of cinema – all the more so if you’re a fan of the series – and injects a bit desperately needed fun into Twilight’s overwhelmingly glum vampiric lore.

And from there we hit a brick wall. Of the many things that Part 2 is missing – note: pacing, contemporary CGI, character development – the worst offender is narrative. Simply put, there isn’t one. The peculiar – and, at least in the film’s context: supportive – thing is that this unforgiveable failure is derived from the book. The simple fact that there should never have been two Breaking Dawn films is made laboriously clear by the painful, incessant deficiency of actual content. So much of Part 2’s running time is dedicated to needless, flatulent filler (mandatory sex scenes and contrived conversations with the films bloated and superficial supporting cast for example) because it had no content to use in the first place. The entire narrative arc could- and really really should – have been the final half hour of one seamless Breaking Dawn film. Except, of course, what about all that money?

Part 2 is one serious tonal miss-kick. The Twilight Saga is one of romance, albeit with vampires, giant dogs and Machiavellian Italian covens but a romance all the same. It is about Bella and Edward, their love and their relationship but, come Part 2, there’s nowhere left for them to go. They’re already married and have a magical child straight from the uncanny valley; in terms of romance Part 2 is dead as its protagonists. Instead, it is left with the already challenging task of reinvention made all the more difficult by the utter dearth of content to actually do it with. What is left is more mediocre-action-film rather than epic-romantic-swansong and Part 2 suffers endlessly because of this. Had it been the final half hour of a film in which Bella and Edward get married and conceive aforementioned demon child it would have been, while not necessarily good, but at least more forgivable. That it isn’t merely served to exacerbate the insipid failure of the film as a cinematic production.

'At least I've Frost/Nixon too.'

Much has been made of the epic snowy conclusion, lauded as Twilight coming of age at last. And, for the time in which it stays canonically relevant, it is. Brutal, frenetic and energetic, it injects a sense of action and dynamism never before seen (and sorely missing) in the rest of the series, so much so that even the dodgy CGI is forgivable. There’s so much going on, so much vigor, that it’s easy to not care that none of it actually makes any sense. While the entire scene may be predicated on almost child-like shock-tactics, it doesn’t matter; at last, after all the running and grimacing, all the copy and paste characters, something is happening. No, more than that, something interesting is happening.

And then…well, that would be encroaching on major spoilers territory. For those that have read the book the whole sequence will correctly seem odd and for the rest…read the first paragraph again. It says a lot that easily the standout sequence of the film is the film’s own creation. That it’s conclusion is utterly ruined by the demands of the book only capitulates the prevailing irritation that Part 2 will no doubtlessly breed in all but the twi-hard crew.

Verdict

Breaking Dawn Part 2 is a film that should never have happened. Its failings are derived from the fact that Breaking Dawn is a text that could never have hoped to support two separate films. What’s left is a husk, a vapid empty shell of a film whereby nothing much happens for far too much of the time. When its good, Part 2 is actually surprisingly good (any scene with the outstanding Michael Sheen is a bastion of entertainment) it’s just an epic shame that there are only two or three of these instances in a largely squalid, uninteresting production.

2/5

Have a look...if you must:

As a final note, please follow me on Twitter: @smariman. You'll get told of updates and new posts as soon as they happen as well as the odd desperate attempt at being funny, entertaining and likeable. Such is life.

Read More

Why Disney Buying Out Lucasfilm isn't a Bad Thing - OR - Jerry Bruckheimer Versus the World

Halloween it seems became all too real for a certain genus of film fan this year. As every man and his dog dressed up last month – some cosplaying, others vamping it up and many thousands more lumping it for ‘zombie’ – a certain piece of news was unyieldingly nudged onto the no-mans-land of the Internet. So secretly was it done in fact that many major publications didn’t get a report out until several hours later.

This nugget of news was, of course, that Disney had bought out Lucasfilm for the casual little sum of $4.05 billion; or what Michael Isner found down the back of his sofa earlier that morning.

'What do you mean "there's no garlic dip"!?'

And then there was the outrage. Oh, the outrage. Despite the utter dearth of actual information and that whole logic thing, it took nothing more than the words ‘Star Wars Episode VII’ to elicit reactions before then the exclusive reserve of Hitler, Stalin and all those charming chaps. Check out any sci-fi/ videogame/ film based forum for a glimpse into the frothing mire of malnourished opinions and mewling entitlement. As a case study, have a gander at this discreetly edited tirade found plastered upon this writer’s news-thread:

“To the people at disney. Do not let Jerry bruckheimer, I repeat DO NOT LET JERRY BRUCKHEIMER get any wear near the lucasfim division, if you do i shall swim over to that clucking country of yours, through that clucking hurricane and tear your clucking eyes balls out and clucking ram them up your own clucking arses where they belong ! you have been clucking warned !”

Grammar, morality and sanity taking a major bashing there. But why has the buy-out caused such unbridled hatred and, let’s face it, fear amongst some people? Now, a week or so after the event, it’s safe enough to reflect on what happened and note that there is a reason. A largely uninformed and depressingly ignorant reason but a reason nonetheless. It’s also safe, however, to highlight how Disney’s buying out of Lucasfilm can only be a good thing.

But first and foremost, what is it that’s apparently so bad about this buy-out?

Dealing with the Madness: Why are the Haters Hating?

The Men In Black were running short of funding.

For the rational and clear thinking, or any old cinephile, Disney buying out yet another film IP is more evidence of the creative dearth often lamented as plaguing the modern film industry. The incessant flow of ‘revisions’ and re-makes, the overdependence on books and other media forms as well as the increasing adoption of foreign cinema as a source of ‘new’ content (Japan’s Ringu(1998) and Ju-On (2002) became Hollywood’s The Ring (2002) and The Grudge (2004) for example), have all contributed to a prevailing exasperation surrounding Hollywood. Quite rightly for some, Disney’s newest signing is simply the next step along the increasingly grey and featureless path towards an inevitable cinematic singularity. A tad nihilistic a belief perhaps but at least it’s a conceivable one (check out Empire’s Studio infographic linked below for a little clue).

http://www.empireonline.com/features/infographic-studio-franchises/?utm_source=ExactTarget&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=110912+newsletter- Empire: studios infographic

For everybody else – which is, sadly, the overwhelming majority – the dominant reason for rage is a basic sense of child-like entitlement. As happens far too often with properties in the ‘geeky’ realm of entertainment, die-hard fans of the series simply don’t want to see the story and world that they love change in a way that they either don’t like or don’t understand. Or, to put it more accurately: to see things develop in a way that they themselves have not decided is right. We’ve seen two uncomfortably impassioned examples this year alone: first with Mass Effect 3’s ending and, more recently, with the news that Bayonetta 2will be a Wii-U exclusive. In aid of staying on topic we won’t go into these farces here, but a quick Google search will yield all of the capricious idiocy you could ever dread to read.

And this, believe it or not, is the reason. Individuals will no doubt dress it up in whatever various forms of contrived heroism they want but, at the bottom line, the sheer vehement hate stemming from the likes of the charming chap quoted earlier derives from little more than a misplaced sense of privilege. While such a stance could easily be interpreted as a sweet or resilient dedication to a nostalgic past – the whole ‘we shall not be moved’ thang – its difficult to do so exactly because there are people like this. There are fans who find themselves perturbed by the change and that’s precisely the point; uneasiness is a perfectly reasonable and rational in response to change, shouting and threatening as though it’s the end of the world is not.

Let’s make this clear: the above description applies only to the abhorrent haters, divisible according to industrial cynicism and abject fanboyism. For the rest, those that are ambivalent to whole shebang and those others who find it a little disconcerting, have no fear! Below are three reasons to celebrate Disney’s newest business acquisition.

Star Wars: Going Nowhere in Particular in a Galaxy Far, Far away

'S'up dudes, I'm a visual metaphor.'

Brace yourselves Star Wars fans but here comes a truth bomb: Star Wars is a series rapidly stagnating. Think over the last couple of decades or so and its difficult to pinpoint any explicit highs for the series. For some (*cough* many) even the not-so-recent prequel trilogy is considered a blight on the series’ gilt-edged 80s mastery. Outside of that and what have we got: an uninspiring short-lived animated series and a metric ton of game tie-ins who’s most telling impact has been expanding the canonical universe to ridiculous and ever-more complicated degrees. In the realm of fandom, the most successful venture outside of the original trilogy have been the comic books, but their permeation into the cultural zeitgeist is comparable to a fart in a hurricane.

Simply put, Star Wars has been crying out for a bit of TLC. Videogame adaptions may come and go (with some admittedly hitting the mark like The Knights of the Old Republic) but Star Wars is first and foremost a film series. Lucasfilm, when under their increasingly geriatric furby-like leader, were merely burying the series under layer upon layer of unnecessary lore and exposition – midichlorians are the Jar-Jar Binks of the cellular world – and a fresh pair of legs is exactly what Star Wars need.

Disney: The House of Mouse has Some Serious Clout

'I own them and I'll own you soon too!'

Here’s another truth bomb: Disney is a consistent producer of fantastic films. When was the last time Disney made a truly bad film? Oh…John Carter…Okay, when was the last time Disney made a truly bad film that wasn’t John Carter? This may seem a really obvious point – and if it does then good! – but it is one of boundless importance as it seems to have been missed by a decent portion of the Internet pie.

Disney for many is synonymous with animations and children’s films, banded wantonly with ‘childish.’ But children’s films are not necessarily childish (in the negative sense of the word) and are certainly not intrinsically bad or ‘lesser’ than supposed adult films. It seems as though for many of whom this buy-out signals the apocalypse that Disney solely produce relentless Aladdin sequels and nothing else…a belief so majestically misguided that a fairy dies each time its followed.

Pixar and Marvel: both of these companies, too, are owned by Disney. And while under Disney’s parentage they have produced an inordinate amount of quality: the Toy Story trilogy, Finding Nemo, Monsters Inc., Up, Brave and others; the Iron Mans, Captain America, Thor, X-Men: First Class and that wee billion dollar hitter Avengers Assemble. The point here is clear: Disney have a proven track record of taking on existing IPs and helping to mould them into something monumentally successful. While Pixar and Marvel could quite conceivably survive on their own feet (and indeed have in the past), the point is that Disney has not only not ruined them, but given them the fiscal/organizational/creative impetus imperative for prolonged success and survival. Star Wars needs this as badly as students need caffeine and free junk.

Vaughan and Arndt

And finally, talking of creative impetus, two news stories have hit the internets over the last week which should give any self-respecting Star Wars fan reason to cheer as though it’s karaoke night at the Mos Eisley Cantina.

First up there was the rumour that Kick-Ass and X-Men: First Class kinetic director Matthew Vaughan is in talks to direct the already contentious Episode VII (link below). For anybody that wants Star Wars to be good again they should be frothing at the bit about this. Vaughan has already proven (remember that he’s still relatively new to directing) that he can not only immerse himself in an existing world (X-Men) but also adapt a story from elsewhere to stupendous effect (Kick-Ass). While this may still be just a rumour, it’s a reassuring indication that Lucasfilm, in their new home, are looking to current and creative avenues to reboot one of cinema’s most famous sons. And, oh would you look at that, Vaughan is a man attached to Disney at the Marvel level, able to move to Lucasfilm through Disney’s soft and gooey center.

http://www.mtv.co.uk/news/star-wars/368067-matthew-vaughn-talks-direct-star-wars-epsiode-7 - Vaughan rumour.

Secondly – and perhaps more excitingly – Oscar winning writer Michael Arndt has been confirmedas the writer for at least the first part of the eventual trilogy. For those feeling somewhat underwhelmed at this news let’s just specify that Arndt was the man behind the brilliant Little Miss Sunshine and (Disney connection alert) was the writer for universally adored Toy Story 3. Once again, Arndt’s involvement is testament to the monumental influence of Disney, an influence the company can – and clearly is – using in helping Lucasfilm piece together the revival of their flagship title.

http://www.empireonline.com/news/story.asp?NID=35719 - Arndt confirmed as Episode VIIwriter.

So don’t worry Star Wars fans! The series that you know and love has, for the first time in a very long time, the opportunity to hit the heights first achieved all those moons ago. Rather than cause for fear and unease, this buyout is exactly what Star Wars and Lucasfilm need to potentially get the ball rolling again. And hey, nothing they make can be as bad The Phantom Menace.

And if the world still seems grim and miserable, go have a giggle:

Read More