More than anything else this week, I've been thinking about three current films: Logan, described by Mark Kermode as "a superhero movie about ageing," which must have been an easy elevator pitch if we make certain assumptions about the age-cycle of the film industry; Kong: Skull Island, which certainly says it on the tin; and Hidden Figures, which tells the story of the three women shown on the poster, who apparently launched NASA's mission to the moon. Their ethnic origin is relevant to the story, I understand, as is that of all the men, military and scientists, who get in their way.
I don't have a problem with the idea that behind every successful, emphatically (for storytelling purposes) male-dominated endeavour are the women who did the actual work, and these days, I guess that's a fairly easy elevator pitch as well. I've seen Logan, as of last night, and if I don't lose interest, I'll go see the other two as well. Logan held my attention, although a superhero who coughs a lot and gets tired fighting (sorry, is this a spoiler? Stop reading now, if that matters) is something of a frustration if you're in it for the genre. It's actually a movie - I prefer the word - about the not-so-vulnerable little girl winning the affection of the initially dismissive disillusioned hero, but all the better for that. Dafne Keen, the actress. Good to watch.
Oh, and stay for the credits. Johnny Cash, The Man Comes Around. Haven't heard that for a while. Might look out the CD. Don't suppose not-so-vulnerable little girl, et cetera, is any more original than any other plot, and perhaps I should look it up in the copy of Christopher Vogler's The Writer's Journey: Mythic Structure For Writers (third edition, Michael Wiese Productions) that a visitor left behind a few months back. Patrick Stewart's character, Professor Xavier, does confess to a tragic flaw/mistake before he's - sorry, spoiler again. It was good to see them watching television, which characters do as often as they lock their cars, and at least they cut down on the number of crucial conversations fashionably held in, er, comfort stations.
Meanwhile, in the other places, the bill to trigger Article 50 coasted through to final approval. Uh huh. Great. I suppose the parliamentary tussle strengthens the mandate to go ahead. On my Kindle, I'm re-reading Andrew Rawnsley's The End of the Party (Penguin, I think) and I've got to the bit where they're working towards the Iraq war. Movies these days are more interesting for the grace notes - the quirky little sub-plots and the funky moments - than for the delivery of the basic premise, and there was something very satisfactory about the timing of Nicola Sturgeon's (predictable now, but not at the time) call for a second referendum. When the writers get to Brexit, she's earned her place in the myth.
I don't have a problem with the idea that behind every successful, emphatically (for storytelling purposes) male-dominated endeavour are the women who did the actual work, and these days, I guess that's a fairly easy elevator pitch as well. I've seen Logan, as of last night, and if I don't lose interest, I'll go see the other two as well. Logan held my attention, although a superhero who coughs a lot and gets tired fighting (sorry, is this a spoiler? Stop reading now, if that matters) is something of a frustration if you're in it for the genre. It's actually a movie - I prefer the word - about the not-so-vulnerable little girl winning the affection of the initially dismissive disillusioned hero, but all the better for that. Dafne Keen, the actress. Good to watch.
Oh, and stay for the credits. Johnny Cash, The Man Comes Around. Haven't heard that for a while. Might look out the CD. Don't suppose not-so-vulnerable little girl, et cetera, is any more original than any other plot, and perhaps I should look it up in the copy of Christopher Vogler's The Writer's Journey: Mythic Structure For Writers (third edition, Michael Wiese Productions) that a visitor left behind a few months back. Patrick Stewart's character, Professor Xavier, does confess to a tragic flaw/mistake before he's - sorry, spoiler again. It was good to see them watching television, which characters do as often as they lock their cars, and at least they cut down on the number of crucial conversations fashionably held in, er, comfort stations.
Meanwhile, in the other places, the bill to trigger Article 50 coasted through to final approval. Uh huh. Great. I suppose the parliamentary tussle strengthens the mandate to go ahead. On my Kindle, I'm re-reading Andrew Rawnsley's The End of the Party (Penguin, I think) and I've got to the bit where they're working towards the Iraq war. Movies these days are more interesting for the grace notes - the quirky little sub-plots and the funky moments - than for the delivery of the basic premise, and there was something very satisfactory about the timing of Nicola Sturgeon's (predictable now, but not at the time) call for a second referendum. When the writers get to Brexit, she's earned her place in the myth.
Not sure why this reminds me of the closing monologue in the second Terminator movie. Unknown future, and the other line from earlier: no fate but what we make.
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