Showing posts with label Anne Heche and Her Technicolour Dreamcoat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anne Heche and Her Technicolour Dreamcoat. Show all posts

Friday, June 25, 2010

Black & White Friday: Psycho '98


I've gone mental, true, but ever since I started this series I have wanted to do the deed (so to speak) on Gus Van Sant's Psycho. From black and white to colour and back again. This'll be either an interesting experiment or a dismal failure (much like Van Sant's movie itself, actually). Bear in mind that I have not watched Hitchcock's Psycho in a year or so and I am deliberately not comparing the two here. I mean, I will compare, but not in a side by side sort of way. I am more intrigued in how this movie would have looked if Van Sant went and did his whole mad experiment in black and white like the original.



I was actually trying to get a shot of Viggo's glorious very un-1960 arse, but instead captured these two moments that I think are quite stunning compositions.


I find it interesting that this shot - and others that I have taken - still look so modern. This definitely doesn't look like a screengrab of Hitchcock's film. Perhaps it's the presence of such a recognisable face as Anne Heche, I'm not entirely sure. I do know this though, I could look at Anne Heche's face all day. As you can tell from this entry, I'm sure, since over half of the images are from the first half of the film.


This looks closer to the spirit of an old black and white horror movie with its Gothic imagery, although - yet again - something about the actors' face (this time Vince Vaughn) just comes across as very modern and I can't tell whether its because I'm just so used to seeing his face in the sort of movies he makes, Wedding Crashers and the like, that it's hard to separate it.


An obvious shot, but a good one. One that truly does recall Alfred Hitchcock's original. Would I instantly know it was the remake? I'm not so sure.


I seriously could have done a frame by frame look at this scene, but I think this six shot collage is enough. One of the things I think Gus Van Sant's remake does better than the original is - no, not the shower scene - something incredibly banal and ridiculous, and yet it still matters: The shower curtain. The diamond pattern helps play with distortion and perception, don't you think?

We can also see here why Hitchcock used chocolate sauce for blood because whatever it is Van Sant used sure does look weak.


This shot reminds me of Frankenstein.


One of things I can never quite figure out about Psycho '98 is why Lila becomes such a lesbian. It's quite strange, really. I do love it though. Charging through while listening to her rock music on her walkman. Right down to the way she acts almost disgusted at the thought of pretending to be in a relationship with Viggo Mortensen's Sam Loomis later on.


Love this shot in black and white. Shadows are like that.


Oh, Gus! You rascal, you!

Thursday, June 24, 2010

Why I Adore... Gus Van Sant's Psycho

One of the best new blogs to show up lately has been Why I Adore, a new project from Mr Paul Anthony Nelson that aims to be a negativity free zone and to allow writers to express true feelings of adoration about movies, actors or anything related to film and TV that they love without threat or worry of Internet trolls whose sole mission it is to criticise people for their opinions.

This week, the sixth edition, was my turn and I decided to discuss my adoration for one of the most maligned films I could think of from the last 20 years, Gus Van Sant's shot-for-shot remake of Alfred Hitchcock's Psycho. A movie so fascinating that I've watched it many times - not as many as the 1960 original, but it's probably closer than you think - and consider it a stroke of experimental brilliance.

A good 38 years had gone by between Hitchcock’s original and Van Sant’s take, and I think this remake acts as the most glowing and praiseworthy critical assessment of Hitchcock’s film that has, can and will ever be. People have spent decades studying this film and yet no piece of film criticism can come quite to the level of outright lust for Psycho that this remake presents. Gus Van Sant loves Psycho. There is a reason he remade it "shot for shot" and it’s because he thought it couldn’t be improved upon. Van Sant even set the movie in the modern times to prove how timeless Hitchcock’s Psycho is. ... The remake is love

I considered using one of Norman Bates' famous quotes, "We all go a little mad sometimes" to describe it, but then I realised that was being a self-loathing. I don't think there's anything mad at all about liking Psycho '98. And, hey, if it's good enough for Nick Davis then at least I know I am in good company.

You can read the entire thing by clicking over to Why I Adore and if you would like to leave a comment please do so, but know that all comments are moderated and anything negative gets promptly deleted. That blog is a negative free zone! What do you think though? Do you think I'm mad like Norman or rational like... umm... are there any rational characters in that movie? None of them seem to think clearly at all, do they? Hmmm.

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Black + White Friday: Birth

Apologies for not being around last week to do this feature, but by the time I got home at 11.45pm (and having left the house at 6am, too!) I had been having a bad day and didn't feel like screencapping if you know what I mean!


My affections for Jonathan Glazer's elegiacal 2004 film Birth are quite well documented. Best film of 2004! Best performance by Nicole Kidman! Best score in modern cinema! etc! Well, I found it odd that I have never even considered using the film for "Black+White Friday", especially since the film is beautiful and I think Harris Savides' dreamy cinematography will prove equally as intoxicating in black and white as it does in those near-sepia candlelight hues that it is bathed it to perfection.


I think it's quite obvious to everyone and sundry that Jonathan Glazer was fixated by Nicole Kidman while making this movie (understandable, really). And she looks stunning here. If she were around during the early days of cinema she would have been worshiped with the greats.


We're all aware how gorgeous Nicole looks bathed in candlelight, right? RIGHT?!


Aah, like the family dramas of yore.


Because she's just so gosh darn beautiful, don't you think? I know a lot of people don't like her anymore because they're "distracted" by whatever surgery she has had done, but I say her acting is just as captivating as anything else about her.


Following on from the above point, any actor who can keep an audience's attention during a silent three-minute sequence with nothing more but a closeup of their face is clearly doing something right. I highly doubt Phillip Seymour Hoffman could do that.


I may not care for Cameron Bright in anything I've seen him in - he's the weakest part of Birth for what it's worth - but, damn, was that not perfect casting? Talk about creepy! If I was to believe anybody was a reincarnation of somebody else I guess I'd believe him.


Doesn't this shot feel like it should be taken right out of Rosemary's Baby? With scary Danny Huston and Lauren Bacall in the backgrounds with their black eyes and the scary Ruth Gordon-esque Zoe Caldwell in the front. Or a zombie movie.



This shot here feels like it's from some 1950s French movie, no?


Fact, Anne Heche looks scarier in black and white. Fact, Anne Heche is amazing. Shame that her career is, basically, over. She is so good in this movie too! Also, doesn't she remind you of Sissy Spacek a little bit here, with that straight hair and plain face?


What have I said before about not letting Nicole near water! It's a recipe for disaster.

Such an amazing, beautiful, powerful movie. I light up a little bit whenever somebody says something kind about it because, for a while there, I felt I was entirely alone.