text:
Cluster Analysis of Biomedical Image Time-Series
- Cite this article as:
- Wismüller, A., Lange, O., Dersch, D.R. et al. International Journal of Computer Vision (2002) 46: 103. doi:10.1023/A:1013550313321
- Citations
- 400 Downloads
In this paper, we present neural network clustering by deterministic annealing as a powerful strategy for self-organized segmentation of biomedical image time-series data identifying groups of pixels sharing common properties of local signal dynamics. After introducing the theoretical concept of minimal free energy vector quantization and related clustering techniques, we discuss its potential to serve as a multi-purpose computer vision strategy to image time-series analysis and visualization for many fields of medicine ranging from biomedical basic research to clinical assessment of patient data. In particular, we present applications to (i) functional MRI data analysis for human brain mapping, (ii) dynamic contrast-enhanced perfusion MRI for the diagnosis of cerebrovascular disease, and (iii) magnetic resonance mammography for the analysis of suspicious lesions in patients with breast cancer. This wide scope of completely different medical applications illustrates the flexibility and conceptual power of neural network vector quantization in this context. Although there are obvious methodological similarities, each application requires specific careful consideration w.r.t. data preprocessing, postprocessing and interpretation. This challenge can only be managed by close interdisciplinary cooperation of medical doctors, engineers, and computer scientists. Hence, this field of research can serve as an example for lively cross-fertilization between computer vision and related research.


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|"Alejandro Abdelnur (JIRA)" <j...@apache.org>
|[jira] [Commented] (HADOOP-9117) replace protoc ant plugin exec with a maven plugin
|Mon, 11 Feb 2013 22:37:13 GMT
[ https://issues.apache.org/jira/browse/HADOOP-9117?page=com.atlassian.jira.plugin.system.issuetabpanels:comment-tabpanel&focusedCommentId=13576180#comment-13576180 ] Alejandro Abdelnur commented on HADOOP-9117: -------------------------------------------- Chris, thanks for taking the time to give the patch a spin. Answering your questions: On "I see ...", correct, as the Mojo adds it to the source path of the maven project no need to do it here. Regarding Eclipse, I'm not sure it will break anything. In the case of IntelliJ (what I use), IntelliJ detects generated-sources dirs automatically without parsing understanding the buildhelper plugin. I'd assume Eclipse does the same. On 'Is this rename correct?...' Yes, the reason was to make clear this is here because of the JSP compilation and not because of protobuf. > replace protoc ant plugin exec with a maven plugin > -------------------------------------------------- > > Key: HADOOP-9117 > URL: https://issues.apache.org/jira/browse/HADOOP-9117 > Project: Hadoop Common > Issue Type: Bug > Components: build > Affects Versions: 2.0.2-alpha > Reporter: Alejandro Abdelnur > Assignee: Alejandro Abdelnur > Attachments: HADOOP-9117.patch, HADOOP-9117.patch, HADOOP-9117.patch, HADOOP-9117.patch > > > The protoc compiler is currently invoked using ant plugin exec. There is a bug in the ant plugin exec task which does not consume the STDOUT or STDERR appropriately making the build to stop sometimes (you need to press enter to continue). -- This message is automatically generated by JIRA. If you think it was sent incorrectly, please contact your JIRA administrators For more information on JIRA, see: http://www.atlassian.com/software/jira
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One of the most powerful emotional punches packed by any TIFF movie this year is carried by Siddharth, a low-budget film shot in Delhi by Toronto director Richie Mehta. The story of a struggling "chain-wallah" (street fixer of zippers) whose son disappears after being sent by his father to a factory to work, it's a movie that trades in hard truths, narrative simplicity and the sheer human endurance of tragedy.
On the day before he was to fly to attend the film's premiere at the Venice Film Festival, Mehta – a former student of mine at Sheridan College – described the genesis of the film and its execution.
I understand this story is based on a man you actually met.
I was in India doing a film for Disney that ended up getting cancelled. And I couldn't leave. It was May of 2010 when the volcano had erupted in Iceland and so flights were grounded and I couldn't get a flight out for five weeks.
So I was just kind of waiting to come home from India and I ended up at one point meeting a rickshaw driver in Delhi. I was on my way somewhere and we had a conversation and he told me what happened to him. I tried to help the guy but it had been way too long. It had been a year since he had lost his son.
And it obviously stuck with you.
Outside of the overt tragedy of the situation, the thing that really messed with me was the fact that he had resigned himself that this was kind of God's will, and he had to go to work the next day. He wasn't going to give up, he was still asking, but he was still trying to do what he could in the confines of his job. Asking people for a year who got into his rickshaw for help. It was never that I wanted to make a movie out of this, nothing like that, but months later, as I was prepping another film, this thing, this guy, wasn't leaving me.
This isn't the kind of character or situation you see often, if ever, in most movies.
As you probably know, the process of filmmaking can get so hampered with the politics of filmmaking, which really have nothing to do with anything in the world. It's just stuff you have to drudge through to get a movie made. And I kept thinking of this real person and this real encounter of this real tragedy that I met, and it's not leaving me, and I feel like I can do something with it and about it, but it's not like I want to show the dark side of a place like India. It's not at all about that. I don't want to show what happens to the kid. I think we've seen enough media for viewers to know. What I think is remarkable is that he had the resilience to go back to work. That if something like that happened here, we understand if you take a couple of years on disability. Because you are gone. And this guy doesn't have the opportunity to do that, and as a result he's forced to adapt. And that to me is so remarkable because I think that's something we forget very often. Of how strong we are capable of being.
And based on my experiences in India, I took a gamble insofar as to say I think everyone he asked for help would have tried to help him. And so I wanted to show that. I wanted to show in the real estate of this film that we are surrounded by good people for most of the film in the face of something so tragic.
Tell me a bit about casting and shooting. The film has a completely convincing atmosphere of lived-in reality.
A big part of that had to do with Rajesh Tailang, the lead actor, whom I collaborated very closely with on my first feature Amal. He had written the Hindi portion of the dialogue on that film, the translations, and he had been the lead actor's dialogue coach in that film. He's an acting teacher and a linguist, and he does a lot of play translations.
I met him the day I met this rickshaw wallah in Delhi. I told him, 'You won't believe what happened.' And then he told me how he'd met somebody who'd had a similar thing happen, and when I started writing an outline many months later, because I couldn't just get it out of my system, I called him and I said, 'Listen, I would love do to this with you.' And so we worked very closely.
It was his idea to make his character a chain-wallah. He said, 'You know what, I think we should make him do something that outwardly, somebody from the outside would look at this and snicker the first time you see it.' His whole M.O. in this project was – this was his quote – 'We must fight against the stereotypes. That is the call of the time.'
This interview has been condensed and edited.
Siddharth screens Sept. 10 at 5 p.m., Winter Garden Theatre, and Sept. 12 at noon, TIFF Bell Lightbox 1 (tiff.net).Report Typo/Error
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text: The most visited presidential center in the country. It includes a museum with 22 high tech galleries that illuminate the life of the 37th president. The nine-acre site includes the spectacular First Lady Garden, astronaut Buzz Aldrin's moon boot tracks in the concrete near the reflecting pool, the Sikorsky Sea King "Flying Oval Office" that served four Presidents, Nixon's restored 1910s birthplace house, a full-size replica of the White House East Room, and the memorial sites of President and Mrs. Nixon.


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10086bfv.com is a 1 year old domain.
It was registered by yu tao , who can be reached at . The site is owned by yu tao. Registration details show that it was registered on 10 Jan 2016 through xin net technology corporation and will expire on 10 Jan 2017.


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A settlement has been reached and the loan payments will start this month, the system works and agreements can be reached with just about everyone in most cases.
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Onel Jimenez is a saxophonist that plays a style of jazz full of edge and attitude that comes from his background in Blues, Rock, R & B, Latin Music and Reggae. He made his way onto the San Antonio music scene playing with the Trinidad Panmasters. He went on to perform with artists like RubenFind out more »
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Ruben V is an accomplished artist. He's released eight solo CDs, 14 group albums and averages over 120 shows a year. He is a guitar player, songwriter, producer and family man. He's built a huge following of Ruben V Band fans – all while keeping a sense of humor and a genuine Texas charm. ButFind out more »


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The Specialized Podium Jacket has you covered—even when you aren't on your bike. Whether you need an extra layer post-race or a casual around-town jacket, the soft, fleece-lined fabric keeps you comfy and warm. It also features rib-knit cuffs and hem that keep their shape, hand warmer pockets, and a graphic lined hooded for a pop of color.
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Originally posted on MyTeamRivals.com | Last updated 3/6/13
AL BEast Notebook – March 6 Yankees are dropping faster than Brian Cashman out of an airplane. Bad news continues to pile up for the Bombers. First baseman Mark Teixeira hurt his right wrist swinging in the batting cage on Tuesday and will miss at least two weeks. Yes, he's out of the World Baseball Classic, but the bigger news is that Tex won't even be swinging a bat for practically the rest of Spring Training. Teixeira (approaching his mid-30's and already in decline) is a perennial slow starter as it is, and now after missing much of last fall with a bad calf he adds a wrist injury into the mix, and takes away his preparation time for the season. He's one of the two sluggers (with Cano) the Yankees are depending on heavily this year, and with all that has and is going on he is only getting more crucial. Of course it's always tough to replace Teixeira. But especially with Swisher and Chavez gone, the only real backup is Kevin Youkilis, who doesn't even have a backup at third base....
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You missed it This great deal for Action Adventure Activities is over. But don't despair, we've got more great deals every day.
We all love the countryside for its fresh air and rolling scenery. And how better to appreciate it than an Ace Ventur-out with Action Adventure Activities? Alrighty then: £29 will bag you an introduction to 4x4 off-road driving (a £79 value). After being shown techniques by your driver, you'll get 20 minutes driving time on basic courses, and with up to four people in the vehicle, it's a great experience to share with friends that could last up to two hours in total. Or for £79, you can re-he-heally get into it, and have 60 minutes behind the wheel with the one-on-one Action package -- negotiating trickier courses and lasting up to 90 minutes in total (a £169 value). Or to get completely Carrey-d away, for £99 the Adventure package includes 80 minutes driving time and more technical training, including vehicle recovery and winching. It could last up to two hours in total and you'll tackle the most challenging courses (a £199 value). This deal fits an adventurous spirit like a glove -- just click 'Buy Now' before you're chitty-chitty-bang out of time.
Enjoy By 26 August, 2012
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Drain King
Unplugs pipes without chemicals
Brilliant invention for clearing clogged drains without caustic chemicals. Comes in different sizes for different drain diameters. You attach it to a hose, and say for the kitchen sink, take off the p-trap, and slide the hose down the drain pipe as far as it will go. You then turn on the hose and it builds up pressure inside the wedged bellows to the point where it releases in a burst, expanding and contracting, ka-chunk, ka-chunk . . . You can clear one obstruction and then push the hose further to get to others. It really unclogs crap. Marveloso!11/10/03
Drain King Water Powered Drain Cleaner $14 Manufactured by G.T. Water Products, Inc.


text:
Mobile App
Ranganathan Architecture College
Tamil Nadu
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Ranganathan Architecture College is situated at REC Kalvi Nagar, Thondamuthur, Coimbatore - 641 109 in Coimbatore.
Courses Offered
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- Bachelor of Architecture-B.Arch
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Ranganathan Architecture College - RAC
Ranganathan Architecture College is promoted and nourished by Ranganathan Rajeswari Charitable Trust, Coimbatore(RRCT), The trust is the brain child of Dr R. Murugesan and Dr.P.Tamilarasi Murugesan. Dr. R Murugesan, President, Indian society of Technical Education(ISTE), new Delhi is a multi-faceted personality committed to serving the needy people with a philanthropic attitude. He had completed his doctorate in Civil Engineering from the University of Madras and has nearly 40 years of experience in academia and industry. He had served at various capacities staring from lecturer to the level of principal in various polytechnic and engineering colleges. He was the first Vice-Chancellor of Anna University of Technology, Madurai. Our aim is to become "A Technological Education Institution with a difference" and to achieve this; there should be "Innovation for Excellence". In tune with these objectives, we wish to innovate world class technological education for the benefit of our students so as to mould them into all round technocrats and good citizens of India. The mission of the college is 'To inculcate the ability to think and execute innovative ideas appropriate to the changing technological environment, Rejuvenate professional competence to create job seekers, To mould our students graduating from our campus into physically healthy, spiritually mature and technologically competent professionals and living as ambassadors of our ancient heritage of good will and al round benevolence.'
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Need an online lab test in River Oaks, TX? Simply order the online lab test you want and get tested at a lab in River Oaks, TX (Find More Locations):
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Our Online Lab Test prices include the doctor's order that you need to get tested in River Oaks, TX, all lab fees and taxes, and a pdf copy of your results. For current prices in River Oaks, TX, please CLICK HERE.
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simbi "" are internal credits that allow members to trade services in the network, without having to exchange directly.
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|"Wilson, Chip" <Chip.Wil...@archongroup.com>
|SwallowOutput with JavaService
|Thu, 01 May 2003 21:16:59 GMT
Hi all, We have a number of apps deployed in a Tomcat 4.1.24 environment on Win2K. They are deployed using XML context configuration files like this one: <Context path="/bts/Disposition" docBase="../bts/disposition.war" debug="0" crossContext="true" swallowOutput="true"> <Logger className="org.apache.catalina.logger.FileLogger" prefix="localhost_Disposition_log." suffix=".txt" timestamp="false"/> </Context> When we run Tomcat from a command prompt, our messages to system.out are correctly swallowed and sent to the log file specified. However, when we deploy Tomcat as a Windows NT service using JavaService (tomcat.exe), our messages to System.out are no longer swallowed and sent to the log file. We have tried various configurations of JavaService, including with and without a stdout file of it's own, various settings for current working directory, etc. Nothing seems to correct the problem. Does anyone have any clue how to remedy this situation short of rewriting all of our logging to not use system.out? We really need to run Tomcat as a service, and we really need our system.out messages to be captured. Thanks in advance. --Chip --------------------------------------------------------------------- To unsubscribe, e-mail: email@example.com For additional commands, e-mail: firstname.lastname@example.com
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Wireless repeater signal two detachable antennas Company TP-LINK helps you create advanced wireless network with wider coverage and longer-range signal . Forget a lot of unnecessary cables, everything happens wirelessly, using security WPA/WPA2 encryption and, moreover, with a maximum speed of up to 300 Mbit/s In Idle mode the device as repeater which replicates the signal from existing routers and sends him further into areas where previously signal was not available. The device is moreover fully compatible with older generation products that support only standard IEEE 802.11g and is able to fully utilize their potential speed of 54 Mbit/s
With support for standard IEEE 802.11n repeater can create a stable connection with speeds up to 18 times greater than conventional devices that support only standard 11g. The maximum transfer rate is around a whopping 300 Mbit/s and data transfer will be really fast. All-intensive operations such as HD video streaming or VoIP telephony they will not cause problems even over long distances. This advantage also appreciate players of online games.
TP-LINK TL-WA830RE default is intended to be used as repeater, which amplifies the wireless signal and WLAN transmits it over a long distance, overcoming the obstacles and enhance overall network signal quality. The device can operate also in conventional AP mode, which accesses the Internet via ADSL/Cable modem and linking the wireless and wired network.
Extend your wireless network quickly and without undue adjustment in a web browser. If you have an unsecured Wi-Fi network, just 3 seconds to press button on the rear side equipment and the range of your network will suddenly larger. There is no need No special knowledge and avoids lengthy parameter setting, which might be less knowledgeable users problems.
First set up and run a repeater is very easy thanks to the included CD with assistant for easy setup. Step by step you enter information and parameters. Everything, including the wireless network settings and security program will help you. Even novices will not have to agonize for hours over how to properly set up the device.
1x LAN port
IEEE 802.11n
IEEE 802.11g
IEEE 802.11b
2 detachable omni-directional antenna 4dBi
2.4 GHz
Up to 300 Mbps
64/128/152-bit WEP
Supported OS:
Windows 98SE/NT/2000/XP/Vista/7
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UNIX or Linux
174 x 120 x 28.8 mm
Specifications can be changed without notice. Images are for illustrative purposes only. Retail Price (MSRP) means the manufacturer's/supplier's suggested retail price.
Link to Manufacturer's Website: Enter link to the external review


text:
To the lunchtime drinkers at Sam's Chop House off Manchester's Cross Street he was simply Mr Lowry: a shy man who liked a half of bitter, a bowl of soup and a cob while relaxing in the old sherry bar during his break from work as a rent collector.
Few could have realised that in future years the industrial scenes he painted of his native Salford were to be worth millions. Yesterday, 35 years after his death, L S Lowry was honoured in his local, where he is still remembered by regulars, with the installation of a life-size bronze statue.
The 300kg sculpture was delivered to the celebrated watering hole by dray wagon before being moved into its eventual resting place at the bar by weightlifters.
Based on an old sketch by his friend Harold Riley recording the day the two men had Christmas lunch together in the early 1970s, it was brought to life by sculptor Peter Hodgkinson whose previous work includes Preston North End legend Sir Tom Finney.
Owner of the city centre pub Roger Ward said he had been inspired to commission the piece after seeing the statue of Ernest Hemingway in bar El Floridita in Havana, Cuba. "Lowry was a regular at Sam's for many years, as his day job as a rent collector was based just around the corner at the Pall Mall Property Company," he said.
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text: We are less than a week away from being able to book FD. So what resort (view) is everyone trying for? What are your back up plans? We are trying for AOA LM room! Right now I am running tons of numbers and trying to research my back up plans! Back up choices in the running are Pop standard, or POR preferred (to get Alligator Bayou). I am not thrilled with either of my back up choices..... but the closer I get the less I feel like LM rooms are possible!


text:
Mantra On The Inlet
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Travel Blogs from Port Douglas
... It is about 3-5" long and beautiful. Cassowaries are the most important bird to the rainforest as it poops every 5 minutes leaving the seeds ready to germinate for many varieties of trees and plants.
Juan noted that two German women were found dead in the woods after having tried to consume these fruits. He also said that Germans tended to drink beer and do stupid things resulting in death. It was nice ...
Day 16 – Port Douglas
Day 16 – Port Douglas
Today was Daintree day, with a little snake action thrown in.
As we packed the car to make the short drive up to the Daintree, the campers next door informed us that a brown tree snake made its way onto the roof of their camper the previous night. This made Vickie especially uneasy as she hates snakes. Thankfully we didn't see it.
As we drove up through Mossman towards the Daintree River there was a lot ...
Crocodile Daintree
... from the hostel and created a little den on the park near the lagoon for a sleep in the meantime. The bus gets in very early to Townsville where we then catch a ferry on to Magnetic Island, but it feels sensible to have saved ourselves a night accommodation sleeping on the bus. We're armed with snacks as always, and all the Greyhound buses have charging ports which is actually a lot better than the hostel we've just been in! Our journey South down Australia's east coast has officially ...
Day 4 Wonga Beach
... both fit a bed in it. After lunch at a normal time for a change we walked the southern end of the beach took us about 2hours. AL had a sleep I'm not tired to day think I caught up last night. Got some very sad news from Chrissy. Went to happy hour for a chat. Didn't do much talking my thoughts are with Chrissy and Johnny. After dinner we watched a new series Called Hell on Wheels that we got from ...
Time now for a 'proper' holiday
... home where everyone was waiting to greet us.
The kids were so excited and got stuck into playing together almost straight away.
The house is very spacious, very tropical, and the best part was the smell of Nori's bolognaise sauce on the boil in the kitchen. Mmmm yum!
We are very much looking forward to the rest of the week in this beautiful part of Queensland. ...


text:
Sunday, May 07, 2017
High concept goes lo-fi in this British comedy that treads similar territory to 2013's 'Alan Partridge: Alpha Papa'. Hell, Steve Coogan's in both of them. Here Coogan plays Peter Eastman, an actor who's done rather well in a forensic detective TV drama called 'Windjammer', a spin off of 1980s hi-tech cop show 'Mindhorn' whose protagonist was played by insufferable egomaniac Richard Thorncroft (Julian Barratt) and which ended after three seasons when an embarrassingly drunk and coked up Thorncroft publically humiliated himself on a talk show, offended everyone associated with the show, dubbed the Isle of Man (the series' setting) a "shithole", and announced that he was off to Hollywood.
Twenty five years later, having abjectly failed to make it in Tinseltown, Thorncroft is reduced to making commercials, attending auditions for rubbish parts, and haranguing his long-suffering agent (Harriet Walter). When Paul Melly (Russell Tovey), the chief suspect in a murder case, contacts the Isle of Man Constabulary to say that he will only talk to Mindhorn, Chief Inspector Newsome (David Schofield) and D.C. Baines (Andrea Riseborough) reluctantly contact Thorncroft and ask him to resume his old role. What follows – as you'll probably guess, given the involvement of both Coogan and 'Mighty Boosh' regular Barratt – is a comedy of embarrassments that is, by turns, genuinely funny, dispiritingly predictable and ploddingly laboured. The moments where it really hits its stride are certainly worth the ticket price, but 'Alpha Papa' it isn't.
One of its funniest set pieces is the opening, which sets up the dynamic of the 'Mindhorn' TV show. Full of macho posturing, overly-dramatic line deliveries and opening credits delivered in a hideous font, it's a spot on piece of spoofery. Imagine 'Mindhorn' as a cross between 'The Six Million Dollar Man' and 'Bergerac' with Thorncroft's performance akin to that of "John Actor" playing Monkfish in the recurring 'Fast Show' sketches. (Mindhorn/Monkfish: I'm stating the obvious here, aren't I?) Indeed, Thorncroft's casual sexism recalls Monkfish's "put your knickers on and make me a cup of tea" ethos.
Director Sean Foley, whose first film this is, mines a lot of humour from the cult of 1980s. A running gag about 'Mindhorn' merchandise pokes fun at any number of American hit shows of the era, while the ATV logo is sneakily inserted in the 'Mindhorn' opening credits. And there are a handful of bitchy jokes about 'Bergerac' (the John Nettles starrer that was set on Jersey). Essie Davis's role as 'Mindhorn' co-star and romantic interest Patrica Deville is a thinly veiled nod to Louise Jameson's nothing role on 'Bergerac'.
But beyond nostalgic box-ticking for 80s TV fans, what does the movie have to offer? Sad to say that Barratt is probably the least of its attractions: not only does Thorncroft have to be an arrogant price for 90% of the running time to make the concept work, but Barratt seems to enjoy playing the façade a little too much, and when the time comes for the character's redemption in the final act, it all feels very forced. Fortunately, everyone else is on form – Davis, Riseborough and an hilariously irascible Schofield are a delight to watch, Tovey takes a very trickily written character (Melly's mental deficiency, while again necessary to the plot, verges on exploitative) and does fine work, and Simon Farnaby nabs the Agitation 'Man of the Match' award for his broadly comedic yet oleaginously creepy turn as Clive, Thorncroft's former stuntman and now romantic rival.
The hour twenty five minute running time is just right. The pace is generally decent, except when Foley takes too long to set up a joke or labours the payoff (some business involving a switched videotape is a case in point). There's one set-piece – an assassination attempt and a high speed getaway that are assumed to be part of a civic parade, a bored dignitary giving a running commentary on the whole thing – that is inspired in its concept and pitch perfect as an archetype of British humour. Had 'Mindhorn' scraped together another three or four moments this good, and Barratt redialled the performance just a tad, it could have been great. But there's no reason why the same team, with just a slightly sharper approach, can't deliver a bona fide belter next time round.
Posted by Neil Fulwood at 10:37 PM No comments:
Saturday, April 08, 2017
Going in Style
Let's be honest: under any set of objective analytical criteria, 'Going in Style' is a pretty average movie. Its screenplay isn't just predictable: you can literally cue in every narrative beat on a scene by scene basis. Matters pertaining to the gift of a watch and the capturing of a specific bit of CCTV footage are set up in such thunderously obvious style that their later relevance is something you can see coming like an ocean liner on a duck pond. The look of the film and its production design are entirely utilitarian. And with the exception of one whirlingly terrific scene where the sketching out of a bank's floorspace segues into a "planning the job" montage, helmer Zach Braff doesn't bring a single directorial flourish to the table. Had 'Going in Style' been made with a lesser cast than Morgan Freeman, Michael Caine, Alan Arkin, Christopher Lloyd, John Ortiz and Ann-Margret (who, at 75, still has more va-va-voom than many starlets a third her age), it wouldn't have had much to recommend itself beyond the obvious anti-establishment satisfaction of watching a bunch of old dudes pull off a heist. (And let's face it, Arkin's contemporary Frank Langella set the seal on that concept in fine style with 'Robot & Frank' five years ago.)
That Caine and Freeman would play off each other in fine style was a done deal. That Arkin would bring his deadpan sarcasm A-game, ditto. Eccentric, scene-stealing supporting work from Lloyd? Guaranteed. Ortiz being cool just by underplaying? The man has the patent on it. Now throw in perfectly acceptable work by Matt Dillon as a determined FBI guy, Peter Serafinowicz (an actor often denied sympathetic roles) as Caine's son-in-law, and Joey King as Caine's granddaughter. Everyone's engaged and, for the most part (Josh Pais as an unctuous banker is the over-egged exception), the cast pitch their performances to each other's strengths; sure, Freeman, Caine and Arkin are the top billed talent, but 'Going in Style' is inarguably an ensemble piece.
The plot shouldn't need a rehash for anyone who's seen the trailer (hell, even a glance at the poster would probably do the job), but for the sake of completeness, here goes: three OAP buddies who worked at the same steel plant together are robbed of their pension when the firm undergoes financial restructuring; family commitments, health problems and an increasing awareness of their own mortality add to their woes. When one of their number is witness to a bank robbery, one that the media widely reports the perpetrators as getting away with, they decide to pull a similar job. That the bank is administrating the steel plant's restructuring is the decider: they agree to take only what was depleted from their pension, superannuated by their assumed remaining lifespan (the scene where they each speculate how much longer they have is one of the best moments the film delivers).
Hands up everyone who's pegged 'Going in Style' as 'Hell and High Water' with a free bus pass. Yeah: me too.
It's derivative as all hell. At one point, Braff has his protagonists watch 'Dog Day Afternoon' on TV ("I don't want to see the ending" one them muses) and the inclusion of footage from such an edgy and powerful classic almost sinks 'Going in Style'. Elsewhere, the tone veers from meditations on the indignity of ageing that wouldn't be out of place in 'The Straight Story' to knockabout farce that makes the average 'Keystone Kops' two-reeler look like Tom Stoppard.
And yet … and yet … despite everything – despite the fact the screenplay presents less a fluid narrative than a shunted-together collection of vignettes; despite the fact that the performances from the name-above-the-title triumvirate constitute screen work they could do in their sleep; despite the poundingly unsubtle sops to the audience's emotions – it works. 'Going in Style' somehow finds a way to benefit from its hoariness, its obviousness, its lack of originality. It reminded me of 'Papadopoulos & Sons' in its conversion of comfort-food aestheticism into a fictive zone in which the characters are presented to you like old friends, their journey unfolds exactly as you expect (and moreover want) it to, and you're simply allowed to enjoy the ride.
Posted by Neil Fulwood at 11:22 PM No comments:
Labels: Alan Arkin, Ann-Margret, John Ortiz, Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman, Zach Banff
Thursday, April 06, 2017
Free Fire
Let's start by shooting the elephant in the room. And why not, since everything the fuck else gets shot in Ben Wheatley's new film? 'Free Fire' is a technical exercise and nothing more. It's an experiment in the spatial possibilities of a single location utilised to its maximum. It's the work of a filmmaker, in thrall to every cool crime flick made in the Seventies, wondering how long he can drag out the shoot-out for. For almost the entire movie, it turns out.
As a narrative, 'Free Fire' can be summarised in less than twenty words: various crims converge on a warehouse to do an arms deal; everything goes tits up; gunplay ensues. Sure, I could pad that out to tell you who the characters are and who they're played by, but that wouldn't get us past the fact that they're all ciphers, so let's just think of them at the One With The Bad Sooth Ifrikaan Accent, the Moody Oirish One, the Snivelling Little Weasel and the Wiseass Douchebag whose mutual antipathy prompts the conflagration, the Too Cool For School One, and the Token Chick. That's not me being sexist, by the way. Brie Larson's character is basically referred to as a "chick" or a "bird" and only the actress's natural screen presence allows for any characterisation beyond that.
As a crime drama or thriller, 'Free Fire' does nothing you haven't seen before. The abandoned warehouse/decayed urban setting is reminiscent of 'Reservoir Dogs', 'Trepass', the last scene of 'The French Connection' and several dozen others at least. The dialogue – save for a handful of throwaway lines used to comic effect – is functional at best.
And even reckoned as an entry in cinema's century-long pantheon of great shoot-outs – the film's self-acknowledged raison d'être – it never comes close to achieving the catharsis of Sam Peckinpah's 'The Wild Bunch' or the sheer visual poetry of John Woo's 'The Killer'. Candles, fluttering doves and balletic dives by cool guys in long coats and shades firing two-handedly are notable in 'Free Fire' only by their absence. Nor does Amy Jump's script engage with the interrelationships of the various groups who find themselves at odds and out to kill each other. Peckinpah would have rigorously interrogated the psychology, motivation and group dynamics so that even the longest and most visceral climactic bout of violence would have felt earned, devasting and inevitable. For Wheatley and Jump, the shoot-out exists for its own sake.
And therefore we have to evaluate 'Free Fire' purely for its technical prowess, since its so resolutely disavows any other frame of reference. Which is probably just as well since the performances – apart from Larson and Wheatley regular Michael Smiley – are generally terrible, the use of music cues is hackneyed, and the attempts at Scorsese- or Tarantino-style iconography near the start is mere copyism. Indeed, there's precious little in the first 15 minutes to remind you that Wheatley was the dark, provocative talent behind 'Kill List', 'A Field in England' and 'High-Rise'.
Still, it takes no more than those first 15 minutes to establish ciphers (sorry, characters) and setting and get everyone edgy and trigger happy. And once the shooting starts, Wheatley's directorial prowess leaps to the fore. Unlike so many contemporary films – where choppy editing and shaky camera work conspire to leave the viewer in abject confusion as to who is where and shooting at whom; or where spatially finite interiors suddenly take on Tardis-like dimensions as heroes and villains range over seemingly endless square-feet of foot space and they squeeze off round after round – 'Free Fire' sets out its stall quickly and precisely in terms of the warehouse's dimensions, the antagonists' spatial relationship to each other and the ballistic capability of the weaponry on display, and plays scrupulously fair by its own rules.
What I took away from 'Free Fire' – more so than the observation that even the world's worst perm, a coating of grime and some blood splatter can't make Brie Larson anything less than radiant – is how incredibly well thought-out the film is. This wasn't just a case of handing over the action stuff to a second unit; this is the work of a director who is genuinely interested in the aesthetics, logistics and challenges of shooting action, and the film benefits immeasurably from Wheatley's complete engagement. He also makes a wise decision in not taking the material seriously, instead allowing it to unspool as an absurdist black comedy. Which isn't say that 'Free Fire' is entirely fun-with-guns or muzzle-flash-and-quickfire-gags; the cynical cruel streak that runs through all of Wheatley's oeuvre is present and correct here.
Full disclosure: I enjoyed 'Free Fire'. It delivered up some decent belly laughs and it was just ridiculous enough to appeal. I can't fault it on a technical level (the sound design, in particular, is something to be marvelled at). But I can't help wondering what Wheatley's motivation was. For all its strong points, so much of it seems like a showreel to demonstrate what he can achieve with a small budget ($10million) and that he can be trusted to deliver standout set pieces. What I'm hoping is that 'Free Fire' is a letter of introduction to the money men whose chequebooks can make possible his much mooted remake of 'Wages of Fear'. If this is the case, we should all go out and see it, and maybe in 2019 or 2020 I'll happily be reviewing the film that I'm convinced will be Wheatley in excelsis.
Posted by Neil Fulwood at 12:32 AM No comments:
Labels: Ben Wheatley, Brie Larson, Michael Smiley
Tuesday, March 21, 2017
Get Out
When Chris Washington (Daniel Kaluuya) and Rose Armitage (Allison Williams) take their relationship to the meet the parents stage, it's a one-sided deal. Chris's single-parent mother died when he was eleven. He's beaten the disadvantage of class, race and economic background and is starting to make a name for himself as a photographer. Rose, however, is pure ivy league and it's to her parents' sprawling country estate that they repair for the weekend.
The last stage of the journey is down one of those ominously empty and tree-lined roads so beloved of horror-movie directors. Their car goes off the road after they hit a deer in one of those worse-to-come foreshadowing moments so beloved of horror-movie directors. At the Armitage residence, Rose's parents – Dean (Bradley Whitford) and Missy (Catherine Keener) – are effusive in their welcoming of Chris. Perhaps a little too effusive. But still, here's Rose's loose-cannon brother Jeremy (Caleb Landry Jones) to balance things out with some outright hostility. And we haven't even met the Armitages' retinue of decidedly oddball friends yet – all of whom are characterised by the slightly unhinged performances so beloved of horror-movie directors.
Does it sound like I'm gently satirising writer/director Jordan Peele? Far from it: his rigid adherence to the genre playbook is the film's strength. Peele obviously knows his horror movies and loves them – but loves them with enough ironic remove that he can bend the formula to his particular agenda. And does he ever? And with such aplomb! 'Get Out' uses the structure, iconography and narrative expectations of the genre to lead its audience happily into a 'Stepford Wives'-goes-torture-porn comfort zone, while sneakily engendering a dialogue on race, identity, cultural appropriation and the façade of liberalism.
The latter is one of the sharpest satirical blows Peele lands and I can imagine an entire tranche of Caucasian filmgoers bristling against it. It's one thing having Bubba and John-Boy and any number of their dentistry-challenged, IQ-deficient cousins going all psycho on a black protagonist in a horror movie, but it's quite a different dynamic when the villains are the very people for whom white-man's-guilt hand-wringing and fiscally permitted entitlement combine to well-meaning but often wincingly patronising effect. "I'd have voted for Obama a third time if I could," Dean espouses with deadpan sincerity at one point; "best president of my lifetime." Missy, meanwhile, fixates on Chris's smoking as unhealthy and badgers him to undergo hypnotherapy.
It doesn't take Chris long to figure out that something is amiss. The too-forced jollity of the Armitages' groundsman and housekeeper (both African-American); the token black man, all dapper outfits and plummy vowels, in their circle of friends; the parties where guests pry a little too intimately; the warnings of Chris's best bud, airport security guard Rod (LilRel Howery, earning himself a Man of the Match award), that these aren't the kind of people he should trust.
I wouldn't dream of blowing the gaffe on where all of this is heading, although a fairly redundant pre-credits sequence drops some pretty heavy hints. 'Get Out' uses its surface as camouflage – and its surface has "dumb shlocky horror flick" written all over it. This is nowhere near as evident as in the third act, which is as dumb and schlocky as it gets, boasting some scientific shenanigans that make 'The Man with Two Brains' and 'Frankenhooker' look like documentary realism. And yet as conceptually daft as the third act gets, it's still the best metaphor for cultural appropriation that genre cinema has yet concocted.
The film has very few flaws: it's slightly overlong, some of the early scenes play out longer than necessary, the cinematography is a tad pedestrian in places (but only in places, mind: DoP Toby Olivers delivers a handful of genuinely striking images), and there's no real chemistry between the leads. Although maybe that was intentional.
What it gets right, it gets right in fine style. Keener's the best she's been for ages, effortlessly creating an inscrutably creepy character; the comic relief (mostly courtesy of Howery) is perfectly balanced against the slow-burn tension and the gory shocks on the final act; and the use of the seemingly ordinary to create suspense, menace and imbalance is pitch perfect. This is, after all, a film in which the most antiseptically clean of guest rooms comes to feel like the dingiest of prison cells, social etiquette is revealed as racism with a university tenure, and a delicate bone china cup and saucer with the dinkiest of teaspoons can rightly take its place alongside Leatherface's chainsaw, Freddy Krueger's manicure and the driller killer's toolkit as one of the most squirmily horrible instruments in contemporary horror cinema.
Posted by Neil Fulwood at 11:56 PM No comments:
Labels: Allison Williams, Bradley Whitford, Catherine Keener, Daniel Kaluuya, Jordan Peele, LilRel Howery
Wednesday, February 08, 2017
Nocturnal Animals
For anyone with a serious redhead fetish, 'Nocturnal Animals' – which features no less a quartet of world-class beauties of said hair colour than Amy Adams, Isla Fisher, Ellie Bamber and India Menuez – might well prove their 'Citizen Kane'. (It also stars Andrea Riseborough, an equally not-troubled-by-the-ugly stick redhead, but buries her under a brunette frightwig.) For anyone else … hmmm, well …
'Nocturnal Animals' is a Tom Ford film. I know this because the opening credits are ushered in by the authorial statement "a Tom Ford film". As are the closing credits. Seriously, the moment the final shot fades to black, there it is: "a Tom Ford film". But let's get back to the opening credits for a moment. As they crawl towards their interminable conclusion, overlaying slow motion shots of morbidly obese people dancing naked in slo-mo – a series of images that has no bearing on what follows and is never revisited – the last three are "produced by Tom Ford", "screenplay by Tom Ford" and "directed by Tom Ford".
Tom Ford has obviously never heard of the traditional "written, produced and directed by" credit. Or he has, but rejects it in favour of stamping his name on his product as omnipresently as possible. Tom Ford is also a fashion designer, and it might be that his fixation with labels extends to his new career as a director. 'Nocturnal Animals' is his second film and it should probably be legislated that you don't get to say "a Your Name film" on your films until you've directed at least half a dozen of them and genuinely proved yourself as an auteur.
But, for better or for worse, 'Nocturnal Animals' (one of the worst titles I've come across since Nick Willing's 'Photographing Fairies' back in 1997) is a Tom Ford film, so let's take a few paragraphs to discuss what it has to offer in all its Tom Fordy Tom Fordiness.
Art gallery owner Susan Morrow (Adams) is twenty years divorced from non-career-focused wannabe writer Edward Sheffield (Jake Gyllenhaal), trapped in a loveless second marriage to smooth bastard, philanderer and also-ran businessman Hutton (Armie Hammer) and a distant mother to Samantha (Menuez). Her life is perfectly ordered, sterile and about two steps away from total implosion. One day, she receives a proof copy of a novel Edward has had accepted for publication (it looks more like an amateurishly bound MS rather than a set of galleys or a bound uncorrected proof, but hey ho) and which is dedicated to her.
The novel tells the story of regular guy teacher Tony Hastings, his wife Laura and their daughter India and how their family vacation turns into a nightmare after an encounter with a bunch of rednecks. Minor spoiled: Laura and India are sexually assaulted and murdered while Tony, more through his captors' stupidity than any proactive decision on his part, escapes. Dead inside, he partners with unorthodox lawman Bobby Andes to track down the perpetrators and take revenge.
As Susan reads, she imagines Edward as Tony, and drops in place surrogates for herself and Samantha as Laura and India (Fisher and Bamber respectively). Also, she imagines the story in vicious and uncompromising detail. Andes is played in this film-of-the-novel-within-a-film by Michael Shannon and he's the absolute motherlovin' best thing in 'Nocturnal Animals' by a wide margin. Everyone else seems stilted and ill at ease, even down to Riseborough and Michael Sheen turning in caricatures in bit parts. The hillbillies – portrayed grubbily by Aaron Taylor-Johnson, Karl Glusman and Robert Aramayo – are no less clichéd.
I've read a broadsheet review which seriously tries to suggest that the filmed excerpts from the novel are comparable with Peckinpah. Bullshit! Peckinpah would have given the rednecks characters and rooted their motivation within a socio-economic framework, not to mention establishing a realistic dynamic as regards their interrelationships. But, y'know, Peckinpah could direct and that's the difference.
Edward's novel is about revenge, and in riffing on little details that force Susan to confront her memories, it is also an act of revenge in and of itself. As Susan's carefully constructed rationales for her equally carefully constructed lifestyle begin to implode, she wanders through her gallery and is confronted by a painting she can't even remember acquiring. Black paint on white canvas: the word "revenge". At this point I wondered if Tom Ford was going to run round from behind the camera, flick a speck of non-existent dirt from his impeccable Tom Ford suit, point at the painting and enquire of the audience whether they were fully aware that this is a film about revenge. And then perhaps deliver a short lecture on how it's also a film about how the hollow lives of upper-middle class entitled people who do each other emotional violence are thrown into sharp relief by the story of a life rendered hollow by an act of physical violence committed by the underclass.
Tom Ford's obsession with the rednecks' filthy lifestyles – right down to showing his audience a post-arse-wipe scrap of toilet paper (thanks, Tom) – is if anything more prurient than his love of lifestyle porn. Seamus McGarvey's cinematography certainly emphasises this, exercising cool restraint as his camera prowls the art gallery or Susan's clinically neat des res, then happily rubbing the viewer's nose in degradation whenever the hillbillies are on screen. And can I say once again how fucking stereotypical these boys are? I half expected the end credits ("a Tom Ford film") to refer to them as Bubba, JohnBoy and BillyBob Rapist.
'Nocturnal Animals' is undoubtedly well made. Thought went into every aspect of it. They way thought goes into films by Lars von Trier and Michael Haneke. And like those boys, for all the artfulness behind the enterprise, it's difficult to shake the feeling that buttons are being pressed and controversy courted for its own sake. I've said before on these pages that von Trier and Haneke remind me of nine-year-olds who have just figured out that saying "fuck" in the playground gets a reaction and delight in proving that observation over and over again.
Tom Ford is playing from the same playbook – not to mention playing in the same sandbox – with 'Nocturnal Animals'. He has a cast to die for, some incredibly talented collaborators behind the camera, none of which count for much in the face of his ego and what I can only suspect are a seething raft of issues that he'd be better off seeing a therapist about rather than inflicting on paying audiences.
Posted by Neil Fulwood at 9:48 PM No comments:
Labels: Amy Adams, Ellie Bamber, India Menuez, Isla Fisher, Jake Gyllenhaal, Michael Shannon, Tom Ford
Friday, January 20, 2017
Live By Night
In Raoul Walsh's 'The Roaring Twenties', the trenches of the First World War are the cauldron in which loyalty, rivalry and criminality are forged. In Michael Curtiz's 'Angels with Dirty Faces', a spiritual battle for the soul of the gangster is finally decided in an ambiguous closing scene. In Howard Hawks's 'Scarface', the gangster is elevated to tragic hero, pursuing the attainment of the world entire at the cost of everything else.
Ben Affleck's 'Live By Night' merges elements of all of these and more – surely it's no coincidence that Dennis Lehane, on whose novel the film is based, picked the title for its evocation of Nicholas Ray's hymn to the romanticism of the outlaw, 'They Live By Night' – as it strives to recreate the iconography of classic Warner Brothers gangster movies while engaging in a dialogue pertinent to a contemporary audience.
And to a certain degree the attempt is to Affleck's credit. As the poet said: a man's reach should exceed his grasp or what's a heaven for? However, in identifying Lehane's fiction as a potent combination of propulsive genre narrative and intelligent social commentary – previously translated to the screen in fine style in Clint Eastwood's 'Mystic River' and Affleck's own directorial debut 'Gone, Baby, Gone', and to a slightly lesser degree in Martin Scorsese's 'Shutter Island' – Affleck makes two crucial mistakes.
But we'll come to those later. For now, take my hand and we'll waltz through a plot synopsis. Irish-American twenty-something Joe Coughlin (Affleck) comes back from the war pissed off with taking orders and kowtowing to rank. He and some buddies carve out a minor living doing nickel and dime hold-ups until Irish mob boss Albert White (Robert Glenister) recruits him under pressure. Coughlin, not wanting to be a part of any particular gang or organisation, accepts in the spirit of self-preservation and because it puts him closer to White's flapper girl moll Emma (Sienna Miller, aurally defiling the movie with the worst Irish accent), with whom he's conducting an affair. Meanwhile, Italian mob boss Maso Pescatore (Remo Girone) tries to persuade Coughlin to assassinate White. His options running out, Coughlin plans one last job to fund his absconsion with Emma. It goes tits up. Meanwhile, a vindictive Pescatore puts the word out to White about Coughlin's dalliance with Emma. The only thing that saves him from death at White's hands is the intervention of his police captain father (Brendan Gleeson, to whom Sienna Miller's Irish accent owes an apology), and even then he still has to take a beating from Coughlin Snr's cop buddies and do some jail time.
All of which would be enough material to fill a 90 minute feature and yet here is little more than an extended overture (one, moreover, that's established and rushed through as inelegantly as a bull on steroids manoeuvring its way from the front entrance to the rear exit of an emporium dedicated to the crockery and figurines fashioned from the finest bone china). The main business of the story takes place post-prison sentence as Coughlin, grieving for Emma (presumed dead after her care plunges off a bridge) and burning for revenge against White, sells his soul to Pescatore and finds himself running the mobster's rum smuggling operation in Tampa. Here, he partners up with Dion Bartolo (Chris Messina), muscles White's crew out of the game, and reaches an agreement with police chief Figgis (Chris Cooper) whereby Coughlin and Bartolo restrict their dealings to specific socio-geographical locations and the cops turn a blind eye. While Coughlin establishes a profitable business relationship with rum distiller Estaban Suarez (Miguel), whose sister Graciela (Zoe Saldana) he romances, Figgis's impressionable daughter Loretta (Elle Fanning) goes off to Hollywood to be a star but ends up addicted to heroin and forced to appear in skin flicks. When Figgis's KKK-connected brother-in-law R.D. (Matthew Maher, stealing scenes like Rafferty stole jewels) takes against Coughlin on account of his relationship with the dusky-hued Graciela, Coughlin uses Loretta as leverage to convince Figgis to set R.D. up. Coughlin's devious machinations are, however, not enough to avoid a full-scale conflagration between Klan and bootleggers.
There's no doubt that this is the most effective part of the film, even if the pay-off is badly rushed, but again there's material aplenty in this one plot strand for an entire feature. But Affleck isn't done yet. With the Klan out of the way, the end of Prohibition looming and a fuckton of Pescatore's profits sunk into a casino development, Coughlin then has to contend with Loretta's post-rehab reappearance as a hellfire preacher (yes, Affleck casts the elfin Fanning as a hellfire preacher; yes, that decision works out exactly as you'd expect) and the cold-feet withdrawal of his legitimate business partners on account of the negative publicity Loretta's anti-vice, anti-gambling, anti-everything-but-God campaign has stirred up. And if that's not enough, Pescatore has plans to retire Coughlin, it turns out that Emma might not be dead after all, and White has one last hand to play.
Once again, enough material for a whole film is shoehorned into half an hour, with melodrama and cliché piling up against each other. A fantastically staged and edited hotel shoot-out restores some genre kudos to the proceedings, but an extended coda in three acts drags things out that bit longer.
I said earlier that there were two problems with the film. The first is Affleck the writer, the second Affleck the actor. While there's no doubt that he's totally engaged with the material as director, he doesn't yet have the skill as a scriptwriter to translate Lehane into the cinematic medium; and as an actor, he doesn't deliver the complexity Coughlin's character calls for, nor does he have any chemistry with Miller or Saldana. (His asexual relationship with Anna McKendrick's character in 'The Accountant' generates more frisson!)
'Live By Night' wants to be a sweeping old-fashioned epic but one that turns a contemporary eye to questions of race, religion, politics, loyalty, rivalry, compromise and even social justice (Graciela is driven by restoring dignity and honour to the underclass of her native Cuba). There would have been two ways to do justice to the book: focus on about a fifth of the existing narrative, truncating the timeline and focusing on character interaction (a la Curtis Hanson's adaptation of James Ellroy's 'L.A. Confidential'), or as a TV mini-series of about five hours. Affleck simply tries to cram too much into his 128-minute running time. Paradoxically, this results not in a frenetic narrative but a plodding and sometimes tiresome one.
That said, there are still things to appreciate. Robert Richardson's cinematography is a thing of beauty, conjuring some eyeball-searing images: a burning police car sinking into a steely-grey lake; a motorboat slowly cleaving the waters of a lake sheened with the pink/gold of a fireball sun sinking into the horizon; a nocturnal shoot-out in front of the skeletal frame of a half-built casino, laths of timber creating frames within frames within frames. There is also a cluster of fantastic performance – Cooper, Messina, Maher, Glenister, Girone – although this comes at the cost of there not being a single decent role for a woman in the whole thing.
"You get out of this world what you put into it," Coughlin's father warns him at one point, "but not always how you might expect." Coughlin was always going to be blasé about this truism; he was always going to be a compromised protagonist. That the film is equally compromised is the real disappointment.
Posted by Neil Fulwood at 10:32 PM No comments:
Labels: Ben Affleck, Elle Fanning, Matthew Maher, Remo Girone, Robert Glenister, Sienna Miller, Zoe Saldana
Sunday, January 15, 2017
Antagony and alternatives
When I first took to this platform to create The Agitation of the Mind in 2007, one of the first of Blogger's extended film community to champion the endeavour was Tim Brayton. His blog was Antagony & Ecstasy and it quickly became one of my top three resources for intelligent, trenchant and - best of all - witty film criticism. And I've remained a regular visitor (if, to my shame, an infrequent commenter) ever since.
As of yesterday, Antagony & Ecstasy closed its doors. After Brexit and Trump's election, that might have been enough to give me the screaming heebie-jeebies and sending me sprinting for the nearest insane asylum. But fortunately western civilisation is only two-thirds destroyed and Tim is simply reinventing Antagony as part of a collaborative endeavour. His new project, Alternate Ending, debuts tomorrow. Go here to follow this new chapter. Update your link lists.
Good luck, Tim.
As of yesterday, Antagony & Ecstasy closed its doors. After Brexit and Trump's election, that might have been enough to give me the screaming heebie-jeebies and sending me sprinting for the nearest insane asylum. But fortunately western civilisation is only two-thirds destroyed and Tim is simply reinventing Antagony as part of a collaborative endeavour. His new project, Alternate Ending, debuts tomorrow. Go here to follow this new chapter. Update your link lists.
Good luck, Tim.
Posted by Neil Fulwood at 11:10 PM No comments:
Sunday, January 08, 2017
'Sully' is about many things: it's about a cool-headed act of heroism executed under intense conditions and with no margin for error; it's about how FAA investigators are basically witch-hunters but with corporate job titles; it's about the different ways in which PTSD manifests; it's about how a city claims heroes for itself; and most of all it's about people doing their jobs.
Clint Eastwood's direction acutely reflects this, to the point that even the villains of the piece – the soberly dressed men and women who do everything they can to prove an act of reckless endangerment on Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger (Tom Hanks)'s part – are just doing their job in the same way that Sully and co-pilot Jeff Skiles (Aaron Eckhart) were doing theirs, the Manhattan ferry operators who assist in getting the passengers ashore from the freezing waters of the Hudson were doing theirs, and the paramedics who tend to them were doing theirs.
There is very little in 'Sully' that isn't about the minutiae of getting on with one's job of work. Just as 'Deepwater Horizon' invested a sizeable chunk of its running time in explaining how an oil rig works and what the various people who work on it are individually responsible for, and only gets down to the big disaster movie set pieces once all the necessary exposition has been delivered, so 'Sully' spends more time with its eminently professional and quietly understated protagonists as they go about their day-to-day (albeit a day-to-day that involves smug people in suits trying to blame them for deep-sixing an aeroplane and never mind that they saved every single passenger) than it does in said plane when it finally puts down on the Hudson.
In fact, Eastwood almost teases the audience with several iterations of the water landing (as Sully coolly corrects an investigator who refers to it as a "crash"). We first see it as Sully's nightmare in the immediate aftermath; then in part as Sully almost seems to doubt his own judgement during a conversation with his wife (an underused but still effective Laura Linney). It's very late in the film before Eastwood shows the whole thing, and his aesthetic is austere and realistic. What many directors would stage as a cathartic, even rousing, set-piece is here a jolting and immersive piece of visceral filmmaking. Notwithstanding that everyone knows the outcome – everyone survived – Eastwood communicates the urgency of the forced landing, the against-the-clock necessity of getting everyone off the plane before it sank, and the hypothermia-inducing temperature of the river.
To reiterate: 'Sully' is a damned fine film when it concentrates on, and offers up an unsentimental hymn to, the importance of professionals doing their job and trusting their instincts. Its footing is less sure elsewhere, though. The vignettes that introduce a handful of the passengers are lazy to the point of stereotypical. A scene in a bar where an overly garrulous bartender and two drunks are so overwhelmed to meet Sully that their effusiveness embarrasses him is staged like a particularly unfunny outtake from 'Cheers'. Two other nags: Eastwood's commitment to an austere aesthetic bleeds the film of any visual distinction; and the editing is fussy and sometimes distracting.
What can't be denied, though, is that 'Sully' communicates its key points simply and with clarity. Hanks and Eckhart do sterling work, both actors bringing lightly-worn gravitas to the roles, and playing off each other in a wry and ironic style. I'd even suggest that, in Tom Hanks's refusal to make his characterisation of Chesley Sullenberger a performance, he gives the performance of his career.
Posted by Neil Fulwood at 12:15 AM No comments:
Labels: Aaron Eckhart, Clint Eastwood, Laura Linney, Tom Hanks
Friday, January 06, 2017
'Passengers' is the most amiable 12A rated film that ought to be a solid 18 rated exploitationer that I've seen in a long time. And there's no way I can talk about it in a remotely useful way without flinging SPOILERS out left, right and centre.
Okay, I'm exaggerating: there's only one spoiler that I need to fling out, and I'm not sure that it even constitutes that much of a spoiler, but let's assume – and it's a fairly safe and logical assumption – that most movie-goers base their movie-going on trailers and proceed from there.
The trailer for 'Passengers' has it that Chris Pratt and Jennifer Lawrence are in suspended hibernation on a long-haul space flight only they wake up 90 years before the ship is due to make landfall (planetfall?) and all kind of shenanigans ensure including matey banter with Michael Sheen's android barman, falling in lurve, and a desperate attempt at something or other when the ship goes tits up in the IT department and shuts down.
So far, so mainstream: soft sci-fi romantic drama starring to extremely attractive people. Let's face, you could be of any sexual persuasion and abjectly loathe science-fiction and you'd probably still go and see 'Passengers' because Chris Pratt and Jennifer Lawrence and you'd swing either way in that particular dynamic and say thank you afterwards.
But what the trailer doesn't imply – what the trailer in fact goes to great lengths to keep off the radar – is that it's only Pratt, playing a character whose name I had to look up on IMDb no less than an hour after watching the movie, that's how fucking disinterested in characterisation the film is, who is awakened thirty years into a 120-year flight after his pod malfunctions and spends the first fifteen minutes or so of the film engaged in the following activities: trying to find out what happened and repair the fault; flipping out because he can't; yakking it up with the bartender (who's kind of like the bartender in 'The Shining' only he never "corrects" anyone); abusing the ship's online entertainment system; and, after a year of solitude, getting so utterly drunk and depressed that he finds himself with only two choices: commit suicide or wake somebody up for companionship.
(You can see where this is going, can't you?)
Credit where it's due, Pratt's character – let's call him Hunky Mechanic Dude – opts for suicide as a first choice. Pussies out, though. Then he goes all "big moral debate" on the waking someone up thing, right down to interrogating the passenger manifest and accessing the records of his fellow passengers (information governance, anyone?), very quickly fixating on Jennifer Lawrence's character, whose first name was Aurora because, y'know, stars and shit. So, after much browbeating and agonising – … oh, who the fuck am I kidding? – after about five seconds flat Hunky Mechanic Dude decides to reawaken the Hottest Blonde Chick On The Entire Fucking Spaceship. And then let her think that her pod malfunctioned the same way his did. And then dissuade her from engaging with a solution to the problem. And then allow a sexual relationship to develop between them.
Which pretty much turns Hunky Mechanic Dude into Skeazy Stalker Rapist-by-Default Dude. Not that Jon Spaihts' screenplay doesn't do its almost damnedest to rationalise HMD (a.k.a. SSR-b-D)'s behaviour. He reads Aurora's file before waking her, discovers she's a writer, samples some of her work and is impressed by her intelligence. (Nope: still a skeazy rapist-by-default.) Post-awakening, he "gives her space" before he makes his move. (Nope: see above.) When the fucked-up-IT-shit hits the fan, he embarks on a course of action that could end his life in order to save the lives of the 5000 or so other sleepers. (Nope: still a scumbag, albeit a fairly brave one.)
Oh, and regarding that saving-the-lives-of-everyone-else business? Said narrative arc is introduced immediately after the Aurora (understandably) wigs out big time about Hunky Mechanic Dude being Skeazy Stalker Rapist-by-Default Dude, and serves purely to get them back together. The way this boy-rapes-girl-by-default-girl-finds-out-boy-gets-girl-back obstacle is hurdled comes by way of a third individual reawakening after their pod malfunctions – in this case, a senior crew member who has access to various protocol levels (not to mention a tendency to dump exposition like a chemical company dumping waste) and who conveniently expires shortly after giving Weirdly Back On Romantic Hero Duties Dude all the information he needs to save the day.
After which How The Fuck Am I Supposed To Feel About This Dude Dude saves the day.
This is the truly weird thing about 'Passengers': you could take the entire film, cut out the bit where Chris Pratt is basically a skeazy stalker/rapist by default, drop in the briefest of scenes where Aurora's pod malfunctions at the same time as his, and the rest of the film (absent, of course, the Aurora-finds-out scene) would play out exactly as written without imbalancing the film in any way, and actually giving us a romantic hero who would actually tick both of those boxes. Indeed, the raising-the-stakes finale would play better as the relationship would be genuinely and there would be infinitely more to lose for both protagonists.
Granted, there are plenty of other minor issues: Pratt's character, as a lower grade passenger, can't get a cappuccino or a full English in the automated breakfast bar, yet seems to have an open account at all of the ship's restaurants and manages to rewire some circuitry so that he has access to the best quarters available; he's a mechanic, but he wants to start a new life on a new planet so he can build a house (a mechanic is not an architect, builder, carpenter, plumber or electrician; try building a house without any of those guys); the way the ship creates its own gravity is scrupulously established then immediately forgotten about the moment the script needs to generate some tension.
On the plus side, the production design is a thing of beauty (the last time I wanted to live in a sci-fi environment was Tom Cruise and Andrea Riseborough's cloud base in 'Oblivion'), Sheen is terrific, the hour-forty-eight minute running time doesn't outstay its welcome, and the leads are mighty attractive (even if both give awful performances). Everything considered, 'Passengers' emerges as watchable fare: it's just weird to the point of perverse that it purposefully made the one narrative decision that robs of it of being the slick, enjoyable piece of escapism it unequivocally should have been.
Posted by Neil Fulwood at 8:23 PM No comments:
Labels: Chris Pratt, Jennifer Lawrence, Michael Sheen
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text: My 9 month old shihtzu has been sick overnight for the previous two nights. He has always been crated overnight since we've had him at 12 weeks. He started limping after lying down for long periods but the vet could see nothing wrong. We decided to start putting him in the spare room without his crate so he can stretch out on the double bed in there and move as much as he wants to. Now the limp has gone but both nights he has been in there he has been sick. The first morning after there was just a brown dried patch where he'd licked it back up. This morning there is two patches of dried up sick (remaining bits look like couscous). If we didn't see the patches we wouldn't have a clue cause he's fine otherwise. I can see no evidence of him being sick in his crate. He has three meals a day with the last at 7 and has a dentastick around 9ish. Could being in the spare room be making him poorly? I don't think it's his meals as he's had same food at same time for months.


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Charities are both amazed and infuriated by the way big private sector companies' failures on multi-million pound publicly-funded contracts seem to be tolerated.
We have seen G4S's bungled Olympics security contract, the Serious Fraud Office called in to investigate G4S and Serco's electronic tagging overcharging, concerns about the quality of Atos' work capability assessments and long running failings with the Work Programme.
These multi-million pound contracts seem to demand less transparency and less rigorous monitoring than charities are used to providing for contracts or grants worth a fraction of these amounts. Most galling is that they appear able to go from one mess-up to another without it impairing their chances of landing further huge contracts.
Two new reports from the National Audit Office investigate how these failures have contributed to a loss of confidence in government's use of contractors. The memorandum on managing government suppliers states that, according to Cabinet Office figures, central government expenditure with third parties in 2012-13 was £40bn, of which 25% or £10bn went to just 40 strategic suppliers. The Big Four – Serco, G4S, Capita and Atos – alone got £4.3bn of these contracts.
The report asks whether the rising prevalence of a few major contractors is in the public interest. The obvious answer is that of course it isn't. It allows them to dominate, set prices and stifle innovation. Opening up to smaller providers, including both small firms and voluntary sector providers, would help alleviate the problem identified by NAO that some of these contractors are "too big to fail".
Commenting on the findings, the NAO said, "the public have clear expectations of the standards expected of all public services. These include honesty, impartiality, openness, fairness, integrity, transparency, objectivity, and reliability, carried out in the spirit of the law, in the public interest, to high ethical standards and achieving value for money."
We need to be confident that we are getting quality services at a fair price. But as the NAO identifies, a lack of transparency means we cannot be confident of either.
Furthermore, despite carrying out £4.3bn of work for the public sector, Atos and G4S paid no corporation tax at all in the UK in 2012, Capita paid between £50m and £56m, while Serco paid £25m in tax. It seems politicians often have little problem telling charities delivering contracts how to behave. Is it unreasonable that businesses delivering public contracts should behave in a way that the public would expect? Why doesn't government insist that they provide adequate financial and performance information as well as paying appropriate levels of tax?
The NAO reports say that high profile allegations of poor performance, irregularities and misreporting mean there is a "crisis of confidence at present, caused by some worrying examples of contractors not appearing to treat the public sector fairly, and of departments themselves not being on top of things." For years, trust has drained from politicians, private businesses, banks and journalists but public trust in charities has remained consistently high. Charities shouldn't take this trust for granted but at a time when public confidence in the tight knit group of firms that dominate public contracts is plummeting, government is foolish to ignore those the public do trust.
The best charities bring to the table a unique closeness and responsiveness to users, links to local networks, innovation and effectiveness. Examples include mental health or disability charities running services for their clients, charities engaging communities in designing local services, peer to peer help for young mothers, or environmental charities caring for green spaces. So why is it made so hard for charities to make a contribution? The crisis in local government funding means things will have to be done differently – something charities can help achieve.
The government can take practical steps to help charities do this; such as proportionate procurement, less risk adverse commissioners and recognition of the importance of social value. Personally, I'd like social value extended to apply to contracts of all sizes – because it is in the public interest that we value the unique benefits that community-based organisations bring to bear.
The tide may be turning on these mega-firms dominating public procurement. The government say they want to increase voluntary sector involvement in service delivery, for example, through the appointment of Michael O'Toole as the first crown representative for the voluntary, community and social enterprise sector.
I suspect we may have different motives: the government wants to increase competition, while we believe charities bring unique benefits to service delivery. However, this still presents opportunities for us and reports like these from the NAO are a good reminder to the government why large competitive contracts do not always serve the public best.
Joe Irvin is chief executive of NAVCA
For more news, opinions and ideas about the voluntary sector, join our community


text:
Tempe, Ariz. – The Nebraska baseball team (1-1) outhit the No. 2 Oregon State Beavers on Saturday afternoon at Tempe Diablo Stadium, 15-13, but it didn't result in a win, as the Beavers improved to 2-0 on the year with a 15-7 win. The Beavers took advantage of 11 walks by the Nebraska pitching staff, while the OSU arms didn't issue a free pass.
Junior Pat Kelly was a bright spot for the Huskers, as the two-time All-Big Ten second baseman was a perfect 5-for-5 at the plate with four singles and a triple. It was the Red Wing, Minn., natives first career five-hit game after posting five, four-hit games during his first two years at Nebraska
The two teams were knotted until the top of the fourth, when OSU cashed in four runs on five singles off NU starter Aaron Bummer. The Beavers added three more runs in the top of the fourth, before the Huskers answered with run in the bottom of the frame when Steven Reveles scored on a single by Kelly after leading off the inning with a double.
The Huskers were within striking distance heading to the eighth down 8-2, but the Beavers plated seven runs on just two hits, as the Husker pitching staff gave up seven walks in the inning.
Nebraska kept fighting and scored five runs in the bottom of the ninth, all with two outs.
The Huskers play their second game of the today at 4 p.m. (CT) against Gonzaga, before wrapping up their opening weekend with another game against the Zags tomorrow, when the two squads meet at 1 p.m. (CT). Greg Sharpe and Lane Grindle will have the call on the Husker Sports Network, including Huskers.com and the Official Husker App.
Game two: Sinclair Delivers in First Career Start
Tempe, Ariz. – Chance Sinclair gave the Nebraska baseball team 7.0 innings in his first start as a Husker and earned the win, as Nebraska improved to 2-1 on the year with a 7-4 victory over the Gonzaga Bulldogs.
On the mound, Sinclair gave up just two runs, both unearned, on three hits, while Josh Roeder picked up his second save in three games after securing the final two outs of the ninth inning. Sinclair sent the Zags down in order three times on the afternoon, including the seventh inning.
Austin Darby led the Huskers at the plate with a 3-for-4 afternoon, including a triple, while Michael Pritchard picked up his third triple of the weekend and Blake Headley added a triple to give the Huskers seven triples in three games. Nebraska hit 13 triples all last season.
Through three game Pritchard (5-for-10) and Pat Kelly (6-for-12) are each hitting .500 on the year, while Pritchard leads the team with five RBIs and Kelly is close behind with four.
The Huskers squandered a pair of early opportunities when Darby led off the bottom of the first with a double and Headley led off the second with a triple, but neither crossed the plate. NU broke through in the third when Pritchard drove in Christian Cox and Steven Reveles with a triple and then scored himself on a double by Kelly. The Zags responded in the top of the fourth with a pair of runs, but both were unearned, including when Caleb Wood scored from third on a balk when Sinclair dropped the ball out of his glove while on the pitching rubber.
Nebraska's offense got one run back for its starter in the bottom of the frame on a two-out triple from Darby that scored Austin Christensen, who was hit-by-pitch to start the inning.
The two teams then went scoreless for three innings, before the Huskers plated three insurance runs. With one down and runners on the corners, Taylor Fish laid down a squeeze that score Ryan Boldt to put the Huskers ahead 5-2. Nebraska wasn't done though, as Cox and Darby both came through with two-out singles that each scored a run to give Nebraska a 7-2 lead heading into the ninth.
The Huskers turned to freshman Jake Hohensee to start the ninth and the first-year right-handed hit the first batter he faced. After getting a ground ball for the first out, he then walked the bases loaded before Nicholas Minter cut the Husker lead to four with an RBI single. With the bases still loaded and the tying run at the plate, Roeder came in and give up a base hit that scored one run, but then got a 6-4-3 double play ball the sealed the Husker victory.
The Huskers wrap up their opening weekend tomorrow with another game against the Zags, when the two squads meet at 1 p.m. (CT). Greg Sharpe and Lane Grindle will have the call on the Husker Sports Network, including Huskers.com and the Official Husker App.


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