Short Story: I, Zombie – Part 9

2016-04-29

Hello again, weary traveller. Here, let me take your coat. Leave your boots by the fire. What’s that? Yes, it is rather cold out. Most unseasonal, I have to say. Yes, I agree. Now, would you care for a warm drink? No? Then a simple game of chess, perhaps? What about a burrito, would you care for one of those? Am I being too genial a host? Here, have my socks, they are very warm and comforting. And what about this lava lamp…

Sorry, I got carried away for a second there. And now for something completely different: Part 9 of I, Zombie (the previous eight parts are available in the Short Stories section). Enjoy!

The door opened and a sole military officer walked inside. Pops looked at the man, trying to see him as a person rather than a meal delivery. The hunger pangs had almost taken over his mind. He pushed as far away from the man as he could.

“Here.” The soldier threw a bag of meat onto the floor in front of Pops. He hesitated for a second, unsure if this was a trap of some description. Then the hunger hit him once more and he reached greedily for the bag.

The soldier could barely keep the look of disgust and disdain from his face as Pops tore into the fresh meat and devoured it in large gulps. Why he had to stand there and watch him, Pops wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. The meat was fresh and it instantly removed his cravings.

“I’ve no idea why they want to keep you around” said the soldier. Pops finished the last of the meat. Yes, he felt much better now. This meal would keep him going for several hours. The soldier wasn’t finished.

“If my opinion counted for anything, not that it does round these parts, but if it was up to me I’d shoot you in the head. Right here, right now.”

Pops stood up to face the soldier and stared right at him. The soldier stared back, for a few moments at least. The unwavering , unblinking gaze of the zombie was too much to bear. The dead weren’t supposed to act like this.

The soldier backed out of the room hurriedly and slammed the door behind him. A small, barely perceptible smile appeared on Pops’ face. He would chalk this one up as a minor victory.
Howard made his way down the corridor with purposeful strides. Despite his earlier hopes, he doubted that he would survive another 24 hours. The virus was running through his system much quicker than he had seen in other bite victims. Maybe it was because he was more active than they had been. They had all stopped whatever it was they were doing and succumbed to the inevitable.

He, on the other hand, was getting the blood pumping by power walking through the base. That was probably it. Still, provided he could reach his target

A sudden, stabbing pain ripped through his upper body. He stumbled and placed a hand against the wall to balance himself. He breathed deeply several times over, trying to overcome the crippling agony that now encompassed him. A few minutes later, what felt like hours, it subsided and he continued his journey.

He waved away the offers of support of concerned colleagues. There was nothing they could do for him. He had to complete this one last task. Then… then he would go find Jenkins and tell her everything.

San Andreas (2015) review

Simon Prior

Some people really enjoy seeing famous landmarks being destroyed. Roland Emmerich is certainly one of them, a director whose big budget features have, since at least 1996, shown the utter destruction of much of the world as we know it one landmark or continent at a time.

If you’re one of those people then San Andreas is exactly what you’re looking for. This is an old school disaster movie with modern day special effects. Plot and character development are almost entirely non-existent, but that’s fine when you can see the Golden Gate Bridge annihilated. Or if you like the idea of logic being ignored in favour of big special effects sequences, then this one is also for you.

Paul Giamatti gets probably the best out of the script, isolated with a small group of scientists and a news crew as the earthquake builds up to an explosive finale. He represents the real human drama of the story, putting in a performance that really belongs in a different film.

Meanwhile, the focus is on Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson who plays a search and rescue pilot. When things start going horribly wrong, he steps in to save his ex-wife and daughter (Carla Gugino and Alexandra Daddario respectively) when they find themselves caught in the mayhem. He is a family man who just happens to be the best person to save everyone from massive tidal waves and earthquakes. His advice to stand next to a tall building during an earthquake, such as a baseball stadium, because it’s strong doesn’t work in this context. I mean, take a look at the rest of the city. Almost every other building is falling down around you. Apart from this, he’s your typical action hero, running from location to location and quipping as only The Rock can. Because a deadly situation like this needs a wisecracking hero.

Daddario meanwhile carries her equal share of the story as she tries to survive alongside a pair of English brothers who happened to be in her vicinity when the earthquake strikes. Fans of exploitative cinema are well served here, as she rocks up early on in a bikini for no apparent reason, then later spends much of the film trying to avoid knocking herself out as she runs from one place to another.

There are attempts at providing some deeper characterisation for The Rock and Gugino’s relationship, who lost their other daughter some years previously. But this is soon lost amongst the rumbles, the explosions and the vast watery damage that is inflicted on San Francisco as CGI effects soon overwhelm everything.

Luckily for all of us, San Andreas knows not to take itself too seriously, despite being played with absolute sincerity by everyone involved. It’s a great big cheesy summer blockbuster, and sometimes this level of mindless action is all you need. On that note, look out for a brief cameo from Kylie Minogue. It’s as fleeting as your memory of the film itself.

Hail Mary (1985) review

Simon Prior

Mary is a young girl who works at her father’s petrol station. One day she is visited by a man known as Uncle Gabriel, and before you know it she is pregnant with what could possibly be the second coming of Jesus. Or perhaps. It’s never made quite that obvious, but it’s what it’s saying.

The version I watched was prefaced by a 27 minute short movie, called the Book of Mary and directed by Anne-Marie Mieville, where we get a glimpse at Mary’s off-kilter world view and watch the separation of her parents. It’s a prequel to the main story, which follows in Godard’s feature. This is where things get a little more controversial. Not only does the story cover a modern update of the Virgin Mary, but it also features quite a large amount of nudity.

Rest assured, the nudity isn’t sexual in any capacity, it seems instead to be an intimate glimpse at a young woman who is coming to terms with the changes that are going on in her body. She is pregnant yet she has not slept with anyone. A doctor’s investigation confirms this. But then, what do you expect when you meet the Archangel Gabriel who it turns out is a bit of a slovenly, taxi riding type?

Her relationship with Joseph comes under threat as they have been nothing but chaste, yet he suspects quite obviously that she has been unfaithful. This is one aspect of faith that is explored, aside from the obvious religious one. It is faith in those around you, specifically.

On the subject of taxis, that happens to be the modern Joseph’s job. It makes much more sense in a modern context than carpenter. Mary meanwhile is a basketball player for the local team. Again, this makes sense in a modern context. She is just an ordinary girl struck by extraordinary circumstances.

As for Godard’s approach to the story, it is told in a linear fashion, but with his typical nonsensical flourishes such as throwing odd background sounds into the mix, or having the background noise cut out completely for seconds at a time. These are often jarring transitions and don’t seem to serve any purpose than to be contrary for the sake of it. His visual sense, however, is incredible. There are some amazing images on offer

There’s a B story featuring Eve (played by Juliette Binoche) which parallels the story of Mary and Joseph, albeit with a different outcome and one in which a virgin birth isn’t a concern. I’d argue the same for Mary to be honest – at no point is she clearly pregnant.

I can understand why there may have been criticism from religious quarters at the time of release, if not for its message then for the portrayal of Mary and Joseph in an unflattering or sensationalist light. The truth is that the film is only good at two things. First, two anger and upset Christians, and second to bore almost everybody else. For this alone, ironically enough, it is worthy of a viewing, no matter which side of the religious debate you sit.

The Birth of a Nation (1915) review

Simon Prior

It is very easy to judge controversial films with hindsight. That is not to say that what they present is right or morally acceptable, but that changing times and attitudes can lead to a different appreciation of a film or story

I always enjoy getting into films like this because they offer many questions. How would a contemporary audience have considered this? What modern sensibilities am I applying to my interpretation, and what does that mean?

Of course, it is a sad state of affairs that at the time of its release The Birth of a Nation was still stuck in the dark ages, so to speak. War was ravaging the world, women had still yet to gain the vote. Into this maelstrom of global and civil unrest came a film that explored the birth of the United States and some key moments in the country’s brief history.

This is, in essence, a treaty on the effects of war and the senseless death that often accompanies war hand in hand. For good measure we get a look at the tragedies of war – the letters returned home to grieving families, the possibilities of two friends meeting on opposite sides of the battlefield, etc.

As we move into part 2 of the film, it is also a reflection of attitudes towards the black communities that had been forceably transferred from Africa to act as slaves for the horribly blinkered white folk. The black community meanwhile aren’t given the most flattering of presentations, which is putting it mildly. That there were protests around the film’s release comes as no surprise to me.

In defence of DW Griffith, in a manner of speaking, a title card does state that it is a reflection of an earlier time and not representative of the time the film was made. But then on the other hand we have white men blacked up at various points which remained socially acceptable until only quite recently.

From a more technical standpoint, The Birth of a Nation is outstanding. Not only is it a true epic of early cinema, running for just over three hours in total, but a number of techniques are used that went on to become widespread in the industry. Tracking and dolly shots, for example, or the use of a hundred extras and a creative placement of the camera to conjure up an army of thousands. If it is true that Griffith didn’t have a script and simply shot the film as the images occurred in his mind, then that is another technical achievement for which the production can be praised.

It is a piece both of its time and of a time, one that was much less enlightened, relatively speaking, when compared to where we stand today. Why present the Ku Klux Klan in a positive light?

Yes there is work to be done – the recent uproar about the “so white” Oscars being a perfect example. The truth of the matter is that we’re getting there. Just take a look at the increase in recent times of mass market stories led by women, or the increase of films featuring either gay actors or gay characters. Times are a changing, for the better, and most importantly they aren’t necessarily being tailored for or by white men.

There is a whole spectrum of people from all walks of life out there, and what better way to explore this through cinema? For anyone who complains about seeing the same old scenarios playing out, time after time, in their big budget Hollywood blockbusters, you may consider giving indie films a chance – the variety in that somewhat vague umbrella term alone is staggering.

Of course, while the concept of slavery or stereotyping a race of people is an abhorrent one to a woolly liberal such as myself, there are a couple of lessons to take away here. First, that in the grand scheme of things everybody is and should be considered on an equal footing. The colour of their skin or their social status shouldn’t have any influence.

The second, that despite history being as unfortunate as it is, I disagree that there should be any sense of entitlement as a result of it, from any involved party. Entitlement is the slippery slope towards a reversion to old ways, where the real focus should be on how to avoid returning to that world.

In some respects, The Birth of a Nation could very well be making this point, but for me also points out exactly how far we have come in the last 100 years. Long may such progress continue.

Brooklyn (2015) review

Simon Prior

Eilis (Satires Ronan) is a young Irish girl trapped in a life where everybody knows your business and the prospects for getting out there and doing what you want with your life are seriously limited. So, after being sponsored by a priest from her home town who now lives in the United States (an excellent cameo turn from Jim Broadbent), she sets off for Brooklyn and begins a new life.

This early stage is beset by her crippling home sickness, having left her mother and sister behind in Ireland. Living in a boarding house ran by Mrs Kehoe (again, an excellent cameo turn from Julie Walters) with a group of other young women, Eilis is seen as the sensible one. She meets a young American Italian, Tony (Emory Cohen) and over several courting scenes their relationship develops.

For me it started to fall short of greatness when Eilis returned home and found herself almost kind of falling for Domhnall Gleeson’s genial Jim Farrell. Much like the other women in the film, it seemed that her choices were governed by what other men thought of her rather than seeking out her own interests. Indicative of the 1950s perhaps, but none of the female characters wanted anything other than to find a man.

It’s a vacuous and unflattering position to place the characters. Unless you happen to be similarly afflicted with the notion that finding a partner will make your life better (here’s a pointer: if you’re not happy single then you won’t be any happier when coupled), it’s difficult to enjoy these characters. Aside from Julie Walters and Jim Broadbent I found myself having little interest in the characters. Even Eilis, despite a superb performance from Ronan, did little to endear me to her.

The circular nature of the story does work, however. Showing Eilis’ journey from naive young girl to assured young woman is well balanced. Through her experiences she develops within the limited confines available, the journey across the Atlantic defining her.

It really comes down Eilis deciding which life she prefers. Is it the gentle world of Ireland, with its quiet, empty beaches, unassuming male suitors and gossiping women who know your every move? Or Brooklyn, New York, with its massive city blocks, crowded beaches and air of imposing impersonality?

The irony is that New York is packed with Irish immigrants, meaning that it’s just like home for Eilis in many respects, but on a much grander scale.

With the assistance of cinematographer Yves Belanger, John Crowley presents the narrative in three distinct colour palettes to emphasise Eilis’ emotional connection with her location. Initially beginning with darker, claustrophobic tones in Ireland, the move to New York opens up the colour palette.

This lighter colour follows her back to Ireland, making it look all the more welcoming and showing that this might not be an easy choice for Eilis. So, from a technical and a performance perspective I have no complaints. Likewise, from a wider perspective the story has its moments. It’s when you delve deeper into the story and the character’s lives that it starts to unravel, and it’s this that sadly derails what could have otherwise been an essential coming of age tale.

Freefall – Part 7

Simon Prior

2016-04-24

Hello again, and welcome to Part 7 of my ongoing double drabble serial, Freefall. With only two hundred words to work with at a time it’s taking a while to get going, but with the plans I have for future episodes the wait will hopefully be worth it. If not I’ll just become a monk and retreat from public life or something.

Parts 1-6 are available on my Short Stories page if you need to catch up. Feedback is always appreciated on these little stories of mine. If you have any thoughts, you can leave a comment on this post or head over to the Contact page which offers a few different ways of getting in touch.

“He’s landed on the other side, there’s no way we can rescue him without significant resources.”
“Let me guess, resources we don’t have?”
“Exactly. We’re pushing our upper limits as it is. If we were to throw in a rescue attempt behind enemy lines, we’d be setting ourselves up for a massive fall.”
“So what can we do?”
“Not much. Not from here at least.”
“Is that it then? He’s on his own?”
“No, I’m not saying that at all. There is a chance we can reach him, but you’re not going to like what I have to say.”
“Say it.”
“We call in Ogrun.”
“You’re right. I don’t like it. But… it seems that we have no other choice. Put the call out.”
“I’ll do it right now. Do you think he’ll be able to keep Kohra off his back long enough?”
“He’s a professional, he knows what he’s doing. Even so, the sooner Ogrun gets here, the better. He’s just one man after all. With a battle cruiser at your enemy’s disposal it’s only a matter of time before your luck runs out.”
“Ogrun should even the odds, I would imagine.”
“Agreed. Let’s hope she gets our message.”

The Bunker of the Last Gunshots (1981) review

Simon Prior

A small troop of men reside in a bunker, the remnants of some future war that has created a dystopian world. They are waiting, waiting for something that isn’t entirely clear. The next phase of the war? The word that the fighting is over? An ideal starting point for directors Caro and Jeunet, who would go on to carve their own very particular niche in the off kilter fantasy genre.

The Bunker of the Last Gunshots is a visually stimulating venture, but has a story that won’t make much sense to many people even on second or third viewings. Slowly details become clear as the soldiers proceed wordlessly throughout their daily tasks, the daily grind of their bunker existence quickly established.

All of the soldiers, hairless as a result of radiation no doubt, slowly begin to go mad as a ticking clock begins counting down to zero. What does the clock mean? What will happen when it reaches zero? It all comes across like a sick social experiment, testing out variables on an unwilling captive audience and seeing how they react. As these are soldiers, there’s an almost uniform reaction, and it involves death. Lots of death. A note to military commanders of the future – don’t lock your men up in a bunker together unless absolutely necessary – if cinema teaches us anything, it’s that this will not end well.

The lack of dialogue doesn’t stop the nature of the situation being clear, although as previously mentioned it may take a couple of viewings for things to really slot into place. It’s one of those almost deliberately vague science fiction dystopia settings that asks you to pay particular attention to every little detail, or you’ll be lost. With enough focus then you should be able to piece the basics together, but the actual meaning and intention behind each image is not immediately obvious.

It is however a story that works due to its brevity. Had it been expanded to feature length, or anything beyond its 25 minute running time, then something would likely have been lost as a result. That’s not to say it’s perfect, nor an instant classic in the world of short science fiction dystopia.

Performances are rather uniform, perhaps through design or necessity, it’s hard to say. Everyone has that mad eyed, desperate stare to them, at least. With all the characters wearing the same outfits and the aforementioned lack of hair, none of them stand out in any great detail, and without identifying marks it can be difficult to follow who is doing what. Of course, this being Jeunet and Caro there is probably a satirical element in place right there.

But then perhaps not. This is one of their earliest film efforts and there is much that could have been improved upon, not the least explaining the story in more detail. But on the other hand some of their techniques and stylistic choices are obvious even at this early stage, it would just take a few more years for their style to truly be defined.

Short Story: I, Zombie – Part 8

Simon Prior

2016-04-22

Evening peeps, I hope you’re ready for another batch of zombie fiction! The pace has slowed down a little this week, it’s all about character building, much like last week. We’re building up to the end of this first run of stories in a couple of weeks, after which I, Zombie will be taking a little break so I can try out a few different story types. Now, without further ado, here is this week’s story…

Jenkins had been left to her own devices, and it was driving her mad. As scary as it had been outside, it was a far sight better than staring at the same four walls day in and day out. She had wanted to go visit Pops, but her commander had forbidden it immediately. Until further notice the subject was off limits to all non-essential personnel, and that included her.

So she had returned to her quarters, with no idea what she was going to do when she got there. She could read a book, although she had already read through all twelve books she kept in her mini library, and more than once. She’d been looking for new reading material for some time, but her work had kept her too busy to really focus on the search. The next trip out, she promised herself. That is, if there was a next trip.

Her thoughts turned to Howard. His reaction after the briefing had worried her. He was hiding something. Whatever it was, she hoped that if he couldn’t tell her then it would at least be something they could put behind them and forget about. He had been the closest to a friend or a family member she had found since the end of the world.

Until Pops. It was an odd situation to be in. At no point until now had the dead given any indication that they were anything more than reanimated corpses. But he was different. He knew exactly what he was. What’s more, he had managed to save both Howard and herself from the zombie crowd.

The situation with the crowd had been unnerving. She had never seen as many undead up close and in person until that point. They had always been in ones or twos, or no more than half a dozen. But in that street? There had been hundreds of them. Jenkins had no idea how Pops had been able to do it, but she would be grateful to him for the rest of her life.

She just hoped that the higher ups would recognise what a find Pops was, that he could be the key to working out what caused the outbreak. Or even a cure. That seemed possible. She was no scientist of course, but the discovery had given her hope for the future of humanity. If Pops was different, then there could be others out there. The more of them that retained some of what had made them human, the greater the chances of finding a resolution.

A noise in the corridor distracted her from her thoughts, a scratching sound as if rats were trying to claw their way inside. As she looked towards it a note was slipped underneath and into the room. She climbed off her bunk and picked up the folded paper. She opened the door and looked into the corridor but wasn’t surprised to see it empty. She returned into her room and closed the door behind her.

Opening the note she read the first few words. She didn’t stop to read the rest. Instead she threw the door open once again and sprinted out into the corridor. She had to warn Howard.

The Unity of all Things (2013) review

Simon Prior

Some films defy the very notion of narrative storytelling, offering up dense, often nonsensical images that are anything but e cookie cutter style of filmmaking that is churned out by Hollywood. One such film is The Unity of All Things, which doesn’t just challenge convention, it also challenges its audience.

There isn’t really a story to speak of. Very loosely it is the tale of a pair of brothers who visit their mother, a scientist who is working on a particle accelerator. They develop some form of incestuous relationship and… well, that’s almost it as far as the story goes. Everything else is less focused on narrative and more on subverting expectations, allowing you to question what makes a good film, and whether story is an important part of that or not.

I would argue that yes, cinema is about telling stories, but the beauty of it is an artform is that you can adapt it to do whatever you want it to do. Much like films such as Rubber or Wrong from erstwhile Mr Oizo himself Quentin Dupieux, or any one of a number of surrealist directors, like Luis Bunuel or Alejandro Jodoroswky, it is more about the images and presentation than it is about telling a Hollywood-friendly narrative.

And so the focus turns towards the images being presented, their structure and layout. This is where The Unity of All Things is a winner to a degree, because the choice and variety of images work rather well indeed. And let’s face it, with a narrative as obtuse as this, you need anything and everything else to work in order for the audience to be engaged.

The cast therefore are presented as little more than meat bags, whose sole purpose is to deliver a line of dialogue in places and, mostly, be told to stand in one particular place or another. It doesn’t go so far as to break the fourth wall, but from a tonal perspective we’re not far off that mark.

It is this very challenging nature that gives the film its purpose. Somewhere amongst all of the strange imagery, frequently odd dialogue and a noisy, almost constant background sound is an array of themes, allegories, concepts and notions that you can dip in and out of and take from the film at your own leisure. Is it a tale of matriarchal restriction? Is it about identity? Birth and death? The cycle of the universe, that we are all just energy? Take your pick. The themes you pick up on will depend on your perspective, and whether you can sit through to the end and take it all in.

While I can’t say I’m a fan of this particular branch of cinema I can at least appreciate what it’s trying to do. As a collection of images and slow moving sequences it works, as a story it does not. But if you ever find yourself struggling to sleep late at night, pop this on for half an hour and see if it does the trick.

Next Goal Wins (2014) review

Simon Prior

Football (or soccer, for you American readers) is a game where fortunes can be turned around in the briefest of moments. Where minnows of the game can pull off a surprise victory against much larger, better funded opponents. Where better than in football will you find a true example of David VS Goliath-style showdowns? That has rarely been the case for American Samoa who have languished at the bottom of the FIFA world rankings for several years. Until the release of this film, they were best known for their 31-0 loss to Australia in 2001, the biggest defeat in the history of international football.

This documentary film joins the team as they reach their lowest ebb, and now must face several stronger opponents in the first round of the Oceanic Football Confederation’s world cup qualifiers.

Next Goal Wins is notable for covering the birth of American Samoa’s newfound belief in their abilities, even if it does mean calling in support from players who are currently living elsewhere in the world. It also deserves plaudits for highlighting the first transgender player in international football, Jaliyah Saelua, and his/her experiences both as a footballer and a transgendered individual. Perhaps bests about his/her story is that for all intents and purposes he/she is nothing more than just another player on the team, and it’s refreshing to see that he/she is not treated any differently by the rest of the team.

This self belief came about following the introduction of Dutch manager Thomas Rongen, which is covered at length in the film. Bringing with him a knowledge and understanding of European club football, his task is to instil in the team a similar level of training and a similar level of discipline that they can use in their forthcoming international qualification games.

It’s perhaps an obvious thing to say that this is not so much about the team making it to the World Cup, because in the real world that was never going to happen. Instead it’s the journey the players go on, literally and metaphorically, as they learn how to work better as a team, improve their tactical knowledge and that just because they are bottom of the FIFA rankings doesn’t mean they can’t push themselves to be better. In fact they were in the perfect position to demonstrate that improvements could be made. Being bottom of the rankings means you can’t drop any lower, so any improvement will be abundantly clear.

Removing the focus on the details of the beautiful game and placing emphasis on the players and the behind the scenes team supporting the squad is why Next Goal Wins triumphs. It’s a feel good story that will hopefully bring out the best in yourself, as it did with the team at the centre of it. It’s nothing original, sure, but it doesn’t have to be an original narrative to invoke some sort of response from its audience.

So did they make it off the bottom of the FIFA rankings? You’ll just have to watch the film and find out for yourself. Or just Google it.

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