BIGLENS Issue 5.2 by Big Lens

BIGLENS THE KENT FILM MAGAZINE | VOLUME 5, ISSUE 2 | SUMMER 2009

WESTERN RENAISSANCE PLUS WHY DO PEOPLE LIKE BORING FILMS? ANIMATION: THE NEW DOCUMENTARY AND MORE

EDITORIAL

COVER: THE ASSASSINATION OF JESSE JAMES | WARNER BROS

GREETINGS TO YOU, fine sir or madam, whether you be a first time reader or a long time contributor. Welcome to our humble magazine, BIGLENS. This is somewhat of a rebirth for us: although this is now my second year as editor, it is my first on my own, and we’ve a wonderful all-new designer who goes by the name of Hannah Charles. So even though in some ways this is our first stab at things, we’re pretty damn proud of everything contained within these pages. So please enjoy it. We did. Every now and again we’re graced with pockets of history where Hollywood produces a selection of truly outstanding films, and I feel as though I’m just emerging from a little bubble of this year’s delicacies. I’ve recently been privileged enough to see films (all of which have screened at the wonderful Gulbenkian Cinema) such as WALL-E, The Wrestler, Frost/Nixon, and Milk. These are all, in their varying ways, remarkable films and it was almost a shame to see them competing against each other at varying award ceremonies when they all deserved prizes of their own. Last year there was another little bubble of what could lazily be termed ‘modern classics’: films such as There Will Be Blood, Juno, The Assassination of Jesse James and No Country for Old Men. With the obvious exception of Juno, last year’s oeuvre all seem to fit into a neo-Western genre, a paradigm explored later on in this magazine. This year’s assortment has a less clear genre definition, yet they all involve personal conflict and struggle within the wider context of politics. Whether it just happens to be chance that these blocks of films tend to coincide is probably up for debate, but in some ways it doesn’t matter. Perhaps there’s some intangible current than runs in American cinema that results in these coinciding films and idea all emerging at once. At any rate, I’m bracing myself against the long, cold summer of Hollywood blockbusters in anticipation of the next mini-bubble that’s coming our way. Tom Brown

SMALLPRINT Edited by Tom Brown Designed by Hannah Charles

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WALL-E | PIXAR

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WESTERN RENAISSANCE TOM BROWN LET’S BEGIN WITH AN ADMISSION. I’ve barely seen any Westerns. I know for sure I’ve seen Once Upon a Time in the West, but everything else just becomes a blurry mirage of horses, hats, and stand-offs. So perhaps I’m not really qualified to write about the ‘rebirth’ of the Western, but here we are anyway, so we’ll all have to accept it. The Western as a genre has always provoked strong reactions either way: there are those who wish they could burst in through a saloon’s swing-doors and tip their hat to the wise-cracking bartender, and there are those who simply just don’t understand what all the fuss is about: it’s just a load of sand and staring. Fortunately, I sit somewhere in the middle. On the one hand, I occasionally revel in the romanticism of the old west, in the glory of heroes and villains and damsels in distress. Other times, however, they can be alienating, and I fail to see how shoot-outs at noon relate to me in any tangible way. The mini renaissance that the Western has undergone in the last few years is both important and welcome. There is an increased maturity and complexity that, when combined with the high technical qualities traditional in Westerns (namely through the pictures of Howard Hawks and John Ford), results in an impressive oeuvre of films. Some of the movies that could be classified as part of the Western rebirth include The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada, The Assassination of Jessie James by the Coward Robert Ford, There Will Be Blood, Brokeback Mountain, and perhaps most prominently, No Country for Old Men. This is an undeniably impressive list. So much so, in fact, that it deserves its own paragraph. Why the return to the genre, then? For many years the Western, at least in the traditional sense, has been considered dead; a product of its time. In fact, it never really left us, but has been hiding away and saving itself. Every now and again it pops up to remind us it’s still here, be it through the ‘acid Westerns’ of the ‘70s, features such as Back to the Future Part III, and even in so called ‘space Westerns’ such as Serenity or even Star Wars. Truth be told, the Western is just far too suited to cinema to ever stay away for long. The endless aching landscapes, the romanticised grandeur, the timeless conflict of the old against the new, the untamed wilderness versus the law and order of the sheriff. It’s classic cinema, and though it’s been remodelled and refined recently, these key elements still remain. The traditional time period of the Western film (usually the late 19th century) remains in films such as Jesse James and There Will Be Blood, proving that there is still a market (both artistically and financially) to be faithful to the Westerns of yore. Many of the new Westerns, though, are set in a more contemporary age: Brokeback Mountain spans from the 1960s to the 80s and The Three Burials and No Country for Old Men 4

NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN | PARAMOUNT VANTAGE

“TRUTH BE TOLD, THE WESTERN IS JUST FAR TOO SUITED TO CINEMA TO EVER STAY AWAY FOR LONG”

both have modern day settings. This brings greater immediacy and relevance to the Western and is part of what contributes to the new yearning for them. The old frontier of the late 1800s has essentially dissipated, but it has been replaced with a new, equally important frontier. America has always been paranoid about its borders and its own identity, and so in No Country for Old Men, instead of Native Americans, we have Javier Bardem. Mexico and Latin America has become the new frontier, making for nothing less than intriguing and unavoidably political viewing. Similarly, it could be argued that in Brokeback Mountain, the new ‘frontier’ presented to traditional America is the continuing emergence and societal acceptance (or rejection) of homosexuality. Modern Westerns,

then, are grappling with more relevant themes and concerns, bringing contemporary issues to a not necessarily contemporary genre. This is the most important development of this new band of films: whilst older, traditional Westerns preached established values and morals, albeit entertainingly, these newer imaginings engage in complex political and social issues, not necessarily providing any answers or judgements. The black and white film of the old Westerns was just that: black and white. Now we have colour to create more shades of intricacy. Will there ever again be an archetypal Western in the style of Stagecoach? Probably not, but that’s not a bad thing. Classic Westerns remain as a nostalgic window into antiquated perceptions of the old frontier, a romanticised fiction that we can enjoy in two hour time capsules. The rebirth of the Western, however, brings contemporary societal issues to the foreground. The romance is still present, usually aesthetically, but there’s a newfound individualism to the modern Western. They have the weight of cinematic and societal history on their shoulders, but this appears to have spurred filmmakers on to create a more than credible pantheon of films, fully worthy of the label ‘renaissance’.

ANI-NATION KELLY O’NEILL

explained in an interview, they used silent cinema to get a feel for the film, thus already this gave WALL-E a new perspective. Silent cinema and animation, as Fantasia showed, is a truly remarkable and often perfect combination, because it is not really the plot that is central to animated films but the visual images. But of all animation I have so far encountered it is the mini Pixar films that most grab my attention. In particular, I love Geri’s Game (in which an old man plays chess against himself). It is the mix of a witty concept and the incredible attention to the detail of Geri, as well as the way he moves that shows Pixar at its most creative. We shall see, then, in which direction Pixar goes, for it is but a child in comparison with Disney. Who knows, in a few decades time perhaps the next generation of nostalgic film lovers shall be marvelling at Pixar as a classic creator of animated masterpieces. Fingers crossed that Pixar will continue in the direction of WALL-E and take the necessary risks to keep their films fresh and original.

PINOCCHIO | DISNEY

THE WONDER AND CHARM of the animated film is difficult to pinpoint: growing up watching animated films, I have never forgotten the way they made me feel so content, safe inside a cocoon of images and sound. Like millions of people around the world I grew up on a Disney diet, arguably not a good thing, for it was, in its golden days, a huge industry that did not exactly provide a good wholesome diet, but it was tasty all the same. The crème de le crème of Disney included Pinocchio, The Aristocrats, Jungle Book, and Fantasia to name just a few. These films when revisited as an adult are reinterpreted with amusing consequences; for instance, just seeing the ending of The Jungle Book I was amused at Mowgli’s descent into puberty and his inability to avoid a pretty girl’s glances, accompanied by Baloo’s knowing comment, “they ain’t nothing but trouble”. It was at this moment I realised the film was simply a Hollywood film dressed up in animated tigers and bears. Even in Lady and the Tramp I watched partly horrified as Lady was given a new collar and was treated as if she was a teenager, her soft Marilyn Monroe voice suggesting she ought to be somehow attractive. ‘But she’s a dog!’ I felt myself scream at the screen! In The Aristocats I watched all the cats dancing and playing jazz music in an abandoned house, and I saw not cats but Beatniks, the bizarre lights suggesting a drug infused point of view! Perhaps my imagination is running away with me but many classic Disney films can easily be appreciated as classic films with characters that act like the Hollywood stars and music that is likewise reminiscent of Hollywood. I think this is what makes these particular Disney films stand the test of time, they do not attempt to patronise the child viewer but infuse delicate childlike images with a mature plot and confidence that makes perfect viewing for any cinema-goer. Even as an adult it is hard to see these films as tediously attempting to draw in every audience demographic the way many modern animated films do. These days Pixar is leading the pack in the animation film world, collecting a mountain of awards including Oscars, technical achievement awards, Golden Globes and Hollywood Annie awards. The days of Pinocchio are long gone, and there is a new kind of animated film at the top of the pecking order. Films like Toy Story, Monsters, Inc., Finding Nemo, and A Bug’s Life are not too different from the Disney ghosts of the past (it is worth mentioning that although Disney has collaborated with Pixar, I find the Disney of today is but a shadow of the Disney of yesteryear). For me, it is WALL-E that stands as the most worthy Pixar creation to rival these Disney classics. The most surprising thing about this film is the lack of dialogue within the first half of the film, and how much one is inclined not to notice. As the creators

“IF A FILM DOESN’T LEAVE YOU ENTERTAINED IT BECOMES LIKE NONALCOHOLIC BEER: POINTLESS.”

JERRY MAGUIRE | TRISTAR

LAST FRIDAY I watched Independence Day with my girlfriend, and throughout she became increasingly annoyed about the fact that I not only knew the words, but would tap her on the shoulder, just before my favourite bits, with the same enthusiasm as a dog wagging its tail at the prospect of going for a walk. “Why!?” she wailed, “do you know all the words?”. The answer it turned out, was fairly simple. This film was released in 1996, so if I had seen it just two times a year - a very conservative estimate - that means I will have seen it 26 times. Why then, when I know how to defeat the aliens and when to cringe at the President’s speech, do I continue to watch it? Again, another very simple answer: entertainment. This film delivers it in KFC family bucket sized chunks; I love every single cheesy second of it. Afterwards, we tuned in to BBC1 to watch the return of Jonathan Ross, who had been off our screen thanks to the actions of those who suffer from involuntary celibacy. His big guest this week was none other than the pint-sized Tom Cruise, and one of the inevitable film clips shown was from Jerry McGuire where he waxes lyrical about how we live in a cynical world and how much he loves her, before finding out he wasted his breath, as he had her at hello. Whilst that is truly lovely (certainly I am a little jealous, most girls only want to hear me say “goodbye”) it simply does not look like an entertaining

WHY DO PEOPLE LIKE BORING FILMS? DAMIAN WRIGLEY

film. Nope, I would much rather see old Tom running about on a bridge with a gun. By this point, those of you who have a Y chromosome deficiency will be thinking that I am a typical bloke with an unhealthy fascination in tanks, and should perhaps be sectioned; but you would be wrong. What I am is honest, and pretty simple. To me a film must contain one, over arching element: entertainment. If a film doesn’t leave you entertained and fulfilled it becomes a bit like non-alcoholic beer: pointless. Sure it has a use, for ex-alcoholics or the designated driver for instance, but its existence is a by-product of the proper stuff. One would not exist without the other. Entertainment films tend to have a plot that is as straight as a runway, and more ups and downs then the share price of a UK bank. Conversely, we have the other films. Films designed to win awards and give those of a tweed jacket disposition something to talk about at speed dating events. Hmmm. Perhaps this is unfair. A good friend of mine, who is doing film studies at a different University (foolishly), enjoys films where Bruce Willis single-handily takes out legions of terrorists, but, equally, he enjoys watching Daniel Day Lewis talk a lot. There Will Be Blood is a very good case in point: it is an utterly terrific film even though absolutely nothing happens in it. Honestly, there would be more shock and awe if the Isle of Man decided to invade the mainland. But why do they exist? And why do people continue to watch them, when it is far more entertaining to watch Harrison Ford crack his whip? Another simple answer. Film is an art form, and once the initial impact has been felt, some people feel the need to overcomplicate it, make it so that people don’t understand exactly what is going on without really concentrating and having to talk about it after. Think of the Mona Lisa, there you have a straightforward painting of a woman sitting down, but that was painted 500 years ago; since then artists have decided that plain colours are just too simple. Portraits nowadays are all abstract and contain a ‘touch of the familiar’, paintings have motion and fluidity, a trip to the Tate Modern is now more about philosophy than art. You might get the odd film that takes a middle of the road approach, Heat for example, but usually a film is either designed to entertain you or to question you. Again, one could not exist without the other.

Serious films have allowed the James Bond franchise to exist in the 21st century, and whilst Quantum did not leave anyone with much solace, it was certainly better then Die Another Day which was more ridiculous then a vegetarian in a steak house. In the same vein, films like The Departed, which has a very complex script and plot, could not exist without the entertainment side, it just would not work. I put it to you that Michael Bay has contributed as much to film as Michael Mann, a statement which is bound to annoy some of you. [Correct! - Ed] It’s hard really to sum up this article. Films are made primarily for entertainment, that is what the industry is built on, aimed for masses like myself who watch a film for escapism and wonder, to take your mind off the tedium of a health and safety, carbon footprint obsessed society. Then there are the others, who want to get something more from film, those who want to sit back and concentrate for two hours, instead of sitting back to relax. An entertainment film will very rarely win a big award, but ‘thinkies’ always will, which is a great shame because some of the best films made require about as much brain power as a cactus does water. For that very reason, I will continue to watch, and enjoy Independence Day, but why I will never watch There Will be Blood again. There is, however, one conclusive point to end on, something we all must pray for: that they never make a film about the credit crunch. 9

PARISIAN GANGSTERS CHRIS FENNELL

À BOUT DE SOUFFLE | SNC

THIS INSIGNIFICANT LITTLE CINEASTE has seen many types of films throughout his meagre existence, but the French Crime film remains one of those which I can’t get enough of. Perhaps it’s the accent, maybe the suave nature of the glacial anti-hero, or even the perpetual doom of the cinematography. Whatever it is, the goal of this ode is to introduce the auteurs of the period, as well as the technical trademarks that characterized the French Crime film of the mid-late twentieth century. The remarkable Jean Pierre Melville pioneered the development of the French Crime film. His measured style relied on taking the specificities of Hollywood noir and adding a refreshingly Gallic angle. Melville passionately championed James Cagney’s brand of gangster film: stuff like The Public Enemy, Angels with Dirty Faces, and The Roaring Twenties. His unashamed love for the American crime film is noticeable throughout his esteemed filmography. Melville, however, would not dedicate his talents to just one genre – his own experiences as a French Resistance fighter influenced one of his finest works, L’Armee des Ombres. Melville once remarked: “I like the futility of effort – the uphill road to failure is a very human thing.” In Bob Le Flambeur, his precursor to the Nouvelle Vague, our hero, Bob, gambles and swindles his way to an inevitable tragedy. Although the film refused to denounce the traditional fatalism of the French noir, Melville confessed it was his “love letter to Paris”, hence the glorious setting in Montmartre. Experience seemed to refine the pessimistic tone in Melville’s main body of work. For instance, in Le Doulos, Montmartre is replaced with a bleak Parisian underworld, whilst ambiguity remains a leitmotif throughout. In the 60s, Melville came to admire the techniques of Godard and his Cahiers du Cinema colleagues but refused to experiment with their nouveau editing patterns and scratchy characterisation. The archetypal Melvillian actor, Alain Delon, plays out his characters tragic fates in Le Samourai, Le Cercle Rouge and Un Flic. Although the New Wave did not bring any renewed sense of optimism to the French Crime film, Jean Paul Belmondo’s Michel Poiccard (A Bout De Soufflé) is a very different creation to Delon’s Jef Costello (Le Samourai). The New Wave’s gangsters tend to be ludicrous, erroneous creations. Their personalities often mirror the

fractured montages in Godard and Truffaut’s work. Michel Poiccard (Belmondo) in A Bout De Soufflé for instance, is a small time French criminal with a unique obsession for Humphrey Bogart. Meanwhile, Truffaut’s gangsters in Shoot the Piano Player drift beyond the realms of absurdity and intermingle with comedy. The nouveau protagonists were flawed and appropriately underdeveloped, whereas Melville and Dassin’s characters had an almost supernatural awareness. It is only through the grit of the cinematography that our old anti-heroes seem fallible. Expatriated American filmmaker Jules Dassin made the “best film noir” Truffaut had ever seen in Rififi. Dassin made his way to Paris in 1953 after being blacklisted for re-

fusing to testify before the House Un-American Activities Committee. The experience that emanated from the magnificent The Naked City allowed Dassin to further Americanise the French Crime film. Rififi is best remembered for a wordless thirty-minute heist sequence during the second act. Dassin’s faithful recreation of the scenes of violence and robbery makes the action seem real. Dassin’s Rififi and Melville’s Bob le Flambeur teamed to invent the modern heist film. One of the most critically celebrated directors of the era, Robert Bresson, liked to make films about crime, but Pickpocket and A Man Escaped predominantly focus on the idea of redemption. Bresson was the most Christian of filmmakers; he studied the human (to do this he employed amateur actors) like no other French director. At the beginning of Pickpocket, Bresson writes: “this is not a crime film…this is the nightmare of a young man driven by his own weakness to a life of crime”. His films almost transcend the genre boundaries film viewers have set for them-

selves. Godard remarked that “Bresson is French cinema, as Dostoevsky is the Russian novel and Mozart is the German music.” This shameless appreciation merely covers the basics of the French Crime film of the mid-late twentieth century. Directors such as Malle, Clouzot, Franju and Tavernier also made fantastic contributions to the success of the period. The filmmakers of the day had a great desire to show the real France, a France without the postcard images of its heritage. After all, that is the harsh reality of life; or at least, that’s what these guys thought. 11

MAKE-UP AND MACHINE GUNS THE NEW DOCUMENTARY

LEAPHIA DARKO

WALTZ WITH BASHIR | BRIDGIT FOLMAN FILM GANG

ONCE IN A WHILE a film comes along which cannot be placed in a genre. These pioneers, these black sheep or dark horses creep up upon the movie-going public and proceed swiftly and efficiently to blow their minds. Persepolis and Waltz with Bashir offer two different perspectives of war- the military and the civilian. It would be foolish to assume that one has more significance than the other, but combined there is not enough time in the world to consider the questions they pose in relation to the genre. But I’m going to give it a try. The word docu-drama is a slightly ominous one for me. It conjures up images of very cheaply made, more than slightly unnecessary segments, used to flesh out perfectly valid if flat factual information, which has had the misfortune of being told in a dull way. ‘But...’ say these two films, ‘what if the drama was the information itself, told exactly how it was remembered? What if we were shown and not told what happened when and by whose hand? What’s more, what if the narrators whilst surrounded by the text book facts, don’t know the answers themselves?’ Waltz with Bashir explores the conflict between the Israelis and the Palestinians in the 80’s and we follow the protagonist in order to try and find out what horrific memories he is repressing. The difference here lies not in the fact that the filmmaker is this said chief narrator, but in the way he completely opens up the inner workings of his mind. In doing this he takes us past the facts to the human beings behind them. Director Ari Folman has done nothing short of redefine a genre,

PERSEPOLIS | 2.4.7. FILMS

though perhaps that is unfair: maybe he has created one anew. You see after the first frame you are not watching to hear of the numbers involved as with usual documentaries, you are watching because you care about him. The use of animation is what at first glance makes these two films stand out. Persepolis makes use of the stock dark colour pallet to paint for us a very adult world from a juvenile perspective. Yes it is about torture, yes it is about conflict, yes it is about oppression, but *shock horror *it’s funny. Very often it’s, to use the commonly trodden phrase, laugh-out -loud hilarious. As if by magic another sub-genre is born, the docu-com. What makes the episodes in this film so funny? Largely the fact that the narrator is on ‘our’ side. She reacts to the good and the bad the way we do, at the same pace as us and without the privilege of hindsight. There isn’t a trace here of any high brow academics running a series of dates and times and casualty numbers nimbly off the tip of their tongues. The majority of this film is spent pondering men and make-up to a soundtrack which includes Eye of the Tiger. We are not provided with the tinkling of a piano in a high register to tell us how to feel about events most of us are lucky enough to have little direct attachment to. Instead the emphasis is on what we do know, childish neighbourhood games and Bruce Lee movies, not to mention the growing pains, physical or otherwise, that we all encounter from time to time. Waltz not only creates a brand new genre of its own but finds time to subvert the traditional one as well. Just when we were getting used to the idea of having a documentary based, graphic novel brought alive for us on the screen they throw in the person to camera interviews that are often found in a regular docu-drama situation. This continuity means that the testaments from witnesses genuinely add to the story instead of detracting from it. So what’s the significance of all this? Well my hope is that they will encourage many more filmmakers and cinema goers alike to question not only the events that occur in the world, but the presentation of

“WHAT IF THE NARRATORS WHILST SURROUNDED BY THE TEXT BOOK FACTS, DON’T KNOW THE ANSWERS THEMSELVES?” them. Who says a documentary has to be about people you don’t know doing things you’ve never done, experiencing things you will never experience in a time you don’t recognise? Who says they can’t be about adolescence and friendships and parties and air guitar? I guess my hope is that we see more of this strain of factual story telling in the cinema, that up and coming young filmmakers will be encouraged to play around with various styles and ways of relaying statistical information, be inspired to veer off in a completely different direction themselves, minus the sombre tone, badly shot segments and ice cold pieces to camera. They have taken the ‘document’ out of documentary. I think more films should be ‘mentries’ I’d quite like to watch another one.

BIGLENS

LOVES

SHIVERS DOWN YOUR SPINE #1

ONE FLEW OVER THE CUCKOO’S NEST | FANTASY FILMS

THERE ARE MANY GREAT MOMENTS in One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest – the spontaneous fishing trip, the basketball game, Chief’s eventual liberation - but at the summit atop all of these events is the scene where McMurphy tries to get the hospital’s television turned on. The World Series is showing on T.V. and McMurphy (Nicholson) is trying to persuade the intolerable Nurse Ratched to let the inmates

put it on and watch the game. Ratched agrees to allow a vote, and the nine cogent members of the hospital all raise their hands. McMurphy’s elated and so are we: he’s finally scored a victory over the Nurse in their continuing power struggle. However, the Nurse calmly states that there are 18 patients on the ward and a majority vote is needed. McMurphy, disbelieving, frantically tries to talk to the other nine patients, but they’re all in varying states of unconsciousness and delirium, clearly not cognitive enough to even understand what the vote is about. Ratched declares the meeting over, but McMurphy continues to try his hardest to persuade someone else to contribute their vote. Astoundingly, he manages to get Chief to raise his hand! He dances in celebration, shouting at Ratched that the

28 DAYS LATER | 20TH CENTURY FOX

vote is ten to eight. She coolly tells him that the day’s meeting has already been adjourned, and so he is forced to sit down in front of the empty television, defeated. Except nothing can defeat McMurphy. We see his face suddenly light up; he stares at the T.V. and starts commentating on the game that he can’t see. The other patients begin to gather round, confused at first but soon get caught up in the excitement. McMurphy is shouting now, “It’s a fucking home run!” and he jumps up and down in his seat as the noise rises and rises as the rest of them start cheering as well. We are overjoyed to see Nurse Ratched looking on from her little booth, helpless. She commands everyone over her microphone that they stop it at once, but they can’t be stopped and her face is one of increasing frustration. This moment embodies everything that McMurphy, and Nicholson, is all about: his unstoppable exuberance and determination in the face of cold, unfeeling institution. We have never been more on his side than at this moment, and it’s a real shivers-down-your-spine piece of cinema. It’s even almost enough to make you like baseball.

“THIS MOMENT EMBODIES EVERYTHING THAT MCMURPHY IS ALL ABOUT: HIS UNSTOPPABLE EXUBERANCE AND DETERMINATION IN THE FACE OF COLD, UNFEELING INSTITUTION.”

BIGLENS LOATHES SICK IN YOUR MOUTH #1 THERE’S NOTHING WORSE in cinematic life than a pointless sequel or a shoddy remake. It gets our goat when people can’t just leave things alone. Why spoil The Matrix forever with two horrendous sequels. Why bring Indiana out of retirement only to make a complete fool of him? Why Terminator Salvation? Why? Two high profile remakes that are doing the rounds in the rumour mill at the moment, and both ‘definitely doing to happen’ are a supposed remake of Alien, and an utterly needless rehashing of the epic Bonnie and Clyde, starring none other than (seriously) Hilary Duff. Why anyone would feel the compulsion to attempt to improve these almost-perfect landmarks in cinematic history is beyond me. All I know is I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.

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