In which I didn't realise I'd seen so many 80s movies

Captain’s Log: 9 February
Last movie watched: Bobby
Song currently stuck in head: Actually it's pretty empty right now, but if I dig around it's "Hey you get off of my cloud".

I’ve just been in a conversation about what a pile of crap the awards shows are. To them I say, Pppppppllllpppp! :P

On Sunday the BAFTAs were announced, and I caught a little of it, right when James McAvoy was on stage, so that was a bonus. Winners were mainly Slumdog Millionaire, Benjamin Button picked up the technical awards, whereas the acting awards went to Mickey Rourke, Kate Winslet, Penelope Cruz and Heath Ledger. Fantastic moment when Danny Boyle won the Directing award: his son jumped up and yelled “WOO! I LOVE YOU DAD!” More sons should do that.

Today’s topic is that of the awards for Cinematography and Editing. I’ve gotten a new respect for Editors in the past few years, having seen a number of films which would have benefited from a little more in the way of edits. As for Cinematography, it’s another of my favourite categories, although I have somewhat patchy luck in predicting the winner. I actually like Slumdog Millionaire for both these awards, largely because they did a lot of the filming in a kind of guerrilla way, on prototype digital cameras, and managed to pull it off.

Meanwhile, it’s time for the 1980s!

We kick off with 1981’s Chariots of Fire, which apart from being identifiable by its lovely musical score, was a film about the three r’s: race, religion and running. It gets slightly unnerving when you delve into the true story and how it was tweaked to make the end result, but the fact is I love the film, and I don’t want to ruin that, so we’re not talking about it. The film’s original title was “Running”, and I think we’re all happy that they changed it. The opening sequence (including the eulogy) is one of my favourite cinematic moments. I’m also really digging the poster.

In 1982 (an excellent, excellent year) the winner was David Attenborough’s Gandhi. The most memorable and indeed one of the most impressive things about this film is Ben Kingsley, who in no uncertain terms kicks ass. Jayzus, though, there are an awful lot of big name actors here. John Gielgud, Martin Sheen, Daniel Day Lewis and Nigel Hawthorne, to name a few. But I also really like the disclaimer at the beginning, which basically says that yes, there are some events we’re not going to be able to fit into this film. What is included is done faithfully to the spirit of Mahatma Gandhi, as much a figure of hope as a real man, who chose non-violent protest as his weapon against injustice. Look at me getting all teary.

Guess what! This year I made it a little mission to see a bunch of Oscar-winning movies, and one of them was 1984’s Amadeus, which is an odd, but beautiful film. It depicts Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart as a rock star of his time; bawdy, rude, but unequivocally brilliant. It’s all told from the point of view of Antonio Salieri, a composer – the Court Composer for the Austrian emperor, in fact – who all his life has been unswervingly devoted to music, desiring nothing more than a God-given talent with which to astound the masses. Enter Mozart: undisciplined, uncouth, with a glib attitude to music in general, despite being brilliant. Really brilliant. Overcome by frustration and jealousy, Salieri vows to bring Mozart down. Seriously. You never thought classical music could be so freaking awesome. It’s a fantastic, tragic film, and F. Murray Abraham is equally fantastic as Salieri. Also, apparently Tom Hulce, who plays Mozart, based his erratic performance on Jon McEnroe, and I think that’s awesome.

Next year’s Out of Africa (1985) was another film I finally got around to watching last year. It’s about a German woman who is taken out to Africa in 1914 to start a coffee plantation – it follows how she undertook the operation of the plantation with no experience and no familiarity with the harsh realities of Africa. It’s got Robert Redford, Meryl Streep, Africa, music, syphilis...quite an epic, and it’s got this lovely languid, golden movement, which is there to reflect the philosophies of African versus European people. Directed by the late, great Sydney Pollock. It’s quite a commitment, but worth taking a look at.

Yet another real-life-adapted film, it’s 1986’s Platoon. Talk about committing. Fairly intense, with one of the most indelible images in cinema, starring Willem Defoe. And if you don’t know what I’m talking about I don’t know what to tell you (hint, it's pictured over there on the left). Anyway, it’s about war. War is bad. But really, we all know that, so what this is really about is how to keep your moral certainty, how to define yourself, in a place and situation that’s about as horrible as it gets. Charlie Sheen, Defoe, Tom Berenger, John C. McGinley and a very young Johnny Depp feature in Oliver Stone’s semi-autobiographical masterpiece. It’s not a fun movie.

Good lord. Only two to go. I’m losing the ability to focus. I’m just saying.

Also not a “fun” movie, despite an amusing scene about an Australian airline, it’s 1988’s Rain Man, where Dustin Hoffman was awesome, and before Tom Cruise went mad. Again, it’s Hoffman’s performance that makes this film: apparently the character wasn’t even supposed to be autistic before Hoffman brought it up...this is an odd idea, considering how central the autism plot is, and I’m not sure it wasn’t made up.

Lastly, but not least, we come to Driving Miss Daisy, from 1989, and I’ve never seen this film without tearing up (ohh, remember when Morgan Freeman got decent roles?). Turns out it was based on real people, but it also has some lovely performances. A word about the posters. See, here were a bunch of really dramatic and artistic ideas. Now it’s all artistic underneath and massive headshots at the top. I don’t approve.

Well, finally, that’s it. I’m going to bed. I should say I’ve changed the settings so that comments are now allowed on this blog, so please feel free to tell me to shut up. I’ll think about it.

I speak for all mediocrities in the world. I am their champion. I am their patron saint.
--- F. Murray Abraham – Amadeus ---