I went to see Atonement over the weekend -- and a very fine film it is, too -- and before the film started, the cinema showed trailers for Michael Winterbottom's A Mighty Heart and The Kingdom, produced by Michael Mann. These are Hollywood's latest attempts to engage with George Bush's misadventures in the Middle East and the fearsome War On Terror.
Occasionally, in a quiet moment, I might find myself reflecting on the demise of the Western. At a recent preview screening for 3.10 To Yuma – starring marquee names Russell Crowe and Christian Bale, no less – the attendance was barely into double figures.
I wonder, then, how the brilliant The Assassination Of Jesse James By The Coward Robert Ford will fare?
I mentioned in yesterday's blog about how much of a fan I am of Near Dark, Kathryn Bigelow's vampire noir that celebrates its 20th anniversary this year. To be honest, it's been flapping round by brain all day like a rabid bat, so I thought why not write about it...
While my compatriots are at Reading Festival, I've been spending a quiet weekend either enjoying the sun on London Fields or watching the typically variable output terrestrial TV has to offer. It's a dirty job, and all that.
Regular readers of UNCUT will recall that Cronenberg's last film, A History Of Violence, was our Film Of The Year in 2005. This, set among the Russian mob relocated to London's East End, is something of a companion piece, and further proof that Cronenberg is enjoying a third act revival in his fortunes.
Barely off site, but here’s how it was. Stephen Malkmus And The Jicks just wound it up on the main stage with the new addition of Sleater Kinney’s Janet Weiss behind the drum kit, and with a few choice words to some of their UK friends: “We endorse The Cribs, but not fucking Kasabian”.
Green Man. It’s all sylvan meadows, scampering deer, Hobits dancing in secluded woodland glades. Oh, OK, like all festivals this summer it’s a big sheet of grey mud and a big sheet of grey sky. But Green Man is different.
It's raining at the moment and the press screenings have temporarily halted to allow the local cinemas to let real people in to see normal movies, like The Bourne Ultimatum. I thought I'd take advantage of this lull in the proceedings to catch up with what I've seen.
Okay, so the best thing about film festivals is stumbling into a film about which you know absolutely nothing and walk out, 90 minutes later, convinced you've just seen the best film of your life.
So, let me tell you about In Search Of A Midnight Kiss, then.
