David Gedge tunes his guitar. David Gedge drives to the garage. David Gedge buys a Ginster's sausage roll. That's about the sum of this inadvisable fly-on-the-wall tour documentary following Cinerama, Gedge's post-Wedding Present cinematic grunge-pop ensemble. A shame, since they're a good band with great songs (only last year they got a No 1 in John Peel's Festive 50), but as a visual accompaniment this is utterly depressing.
The definitive American indie-lite film from '93, made by a pre-schmaltz Lasse Hallström and starring a young Leonardo DiCaprio, this has an affecting warmth and wit. Like an anti-David Lynch movie, it sells smalltown Americana, via Johnny Depp's harried protagonist, as a confused, idiosyncratic but always humane place. John C Reilly and Crispin Glover provide heavyweight back-up.
To explode a myth: in 1966 Antonioni's first English film was pitched not on the Italian director's vision or its meditations on the interface between reality and fantasy, but on its 'unflinching' portrayal of Swinging London—ie, much nudity. The original trailer, included here, makes that perfectly clear: it was popular because of breasts, not because it asked what 'meaning' meant.
And photographer David Hemmings' romps with models and Vanessa Redgrave remain icons of "yeeeah, baby" wish fulfilment for lensmen everywhere.
Twenty years and one truly awful TV remake later, David Lynch's adaptation of Frank Herbert's unfilmable sci-fi epic looks miraculously good. Kyle MacLachlan makes an impressive debut as the young desert messiah, the supporting cast are great (except Sting), and the amazing visuals more than outweigh the unwieldy script.
