Licking Hitler, BFI

As part of its current season focusing on David Hare's work for TV, the BFI last week showed the first two films that he both wrote and directed for the Play for Today strand.

Licking Hitler, which won the 1978 Bafta for Best Television Play, is set during World War II in a country house that has been requisitioned by the military to house a 'black propaganda' unit that is sending subversive messages into Germany.

The drama centres on the uneasy and ultimately brutal relationship between Archie Maclean (Bill Paterson), an alcoholic and raspingly sardonic working-class journo from Glasgow, and Anna Seaton (Kate Nelligan), a naïve and sheltered upper-class girl who joins the unit as a translator.

The film is populated by fairly unsympathetic characters whose motivations remain opaque, but Hare never offers judgement on them until the closing voiceover. It's also a very spare piece of work, with long periods of silence and languid camerawork giving the house a haunted, isolated and oppressive atmosphere. The only music is a slow piano concerto that occasionally echoes through the empty spaces.

Hare doesn't labour the point, but the house and its inhabitants act as a graphic metaphor for the fissures of class, gender, sexuality and nationality that run through society. However, their conflicts stem from purely personal concerns; they're always complex characters rather than representative mouthpieces.

Debates in the house also raise ethical questions over the use of propaganda as a deadly weapon of war, with the profession of lying eventually spilling into the characters' tense personal relationships, with destructive consequences.

Unexpectedly for such an insular and stylised film, it concludes with a 'where are they now' epilogue, tracing the post-War careers of the characters. Although this seems like a disruptive shift in tone, it works well in extending the theme of deceit in public life.

The liars-in-chief go on to prosper through 'the steady impoverishment of people's ideals, their loss of faith… the 30-year-old, deep, corrosive national habit of lying'. It's one of the script's strengths that such a specific period piece still has contemporary relevance thirty years later.

(I'll have a look next at Dreams of Leaving and the on-stage interview with David Hare that followed the two films).

BAFTA screenplay nominations

(With links to 'officially' posted scripts, where available)

Original screenplay

• Burn After Reading - Joel Coen, Ethan Coen
• In Bruges - Martin McDonagh
• I've Loved You So Long - Philippe Claudel
• Milk - Dustin Lance Black
• Changeling - J Michael Straczynski

Adapted screenplay

• The Curious Case of Benjamin Button - Eric Roth
• Frost/Nixon - Peter Morgan
• The Reader - David Hare
• Revolutionary Road - Justin Haythe
• Slumdog Millionaire - Simon Beaufoy

(Script links via SimplyScripts)

Ricardo Montalbán RIP

Blimers, super smoothy Ricardo Montalbán has gone as well.

I loved his five stages of being an actor:

1. Who is Ricardo Montalbán?

2. Get me Ricardo Montalbán!

3. Get me a Ricardo Montalbán type.

4. Get me a young Ricardo Montalbán.

5. Who is Ricardo Montalbán?

Be seeing you: Patrick McGoohan RIP

Channel Four's broadcast of The Prisoner in late 1983 was an absolutely pivotal moment in my, ahem, cultural development.

Along with the same channel's runs of The Avengers, it ran an electric charge through my imagination and opened my eyes to what telly could do.

The image of 'P' (as he was described in the scripts) stomping grumpily round the Village and never resting in his struggle against the authorities utterly captivated me.

I and a few fellow acolytes at school would trot out memorable lines the following day, and before long I joined Six of One.

Immersing myself totally in the series, I began to realise what a remarkable production it had been and what an extraordinary man its star (and driving force) had been.

When Janie bought me the complete box set for Christmas a few years ago, I wished I could send a message back to Tom '83 and let him know that someday he'd own the complete series on handy little discs and be able to watch it whenever he wanted.

Even now, the peel of thunder and the thrum of bongos at the start gets my heart beating a little faster.

And we'll always have that voice:

“I will not be pushed, filed, stamped, indexed, briefed, debriefed or numbered! My life is my own.”

Slumdog Millionaire, BFI

Slumdog Millionaire is clearly going to get a lot of coverage and analysis as it continues its triumphant march to glory, so there’s probably not a lot I can add.

The main thing that struck me about Simon Beaufoy’s script is how it remains coherent and constantly moving forward despite having a complex triple narrative.

The action unfolds in three main strands:

• Jamal, an 18-year-old orphan from the slums of Mumbai, is interrogated by the police, who think that he must have cheated somehow to reach the upper levels of India’s Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? These scenes are punctuated by;
  
  
• Jamal on the show, locked in a battle of wills with the sneering and smarmy presenter and facing the increasingly valuable questions.
  
  
• Following each question, we learn how Jamal came to know the answer by tracing the series of incidents from his turbulent childhood that have led him to appear on the show.

On top of this we also have intriguing little Roeg-esque flashforwards to images from the later stages of the film.

The success of the script isn’t all down to structure. The developing characters of Jamal, his thuggish brother Salim and his lost childhood sweetheart Latika are beautifully drawn through a series of little gestures and set-ups that are paid off almost perfectly at the end.

I know we’re always quick to criticise directors who have done something to spoil a screenwriter’s beautiful creation, but Danny Boyle (and his team) have taken the script and turned it into a fantastic piece of cinema.

The editing (by Mark Digby) and the soundtrack (by AR Rahman) are particularly effective, giving the film the energy it needs to depict life in the teeming ‘maximum city’ of Mumbai.

The one concern I had was more to do with the marketing of the film – particularly the ubiquitious claim from a review that it’s “the feelgood movie of the decade”.

While it’s probably not giving too much away to say that there’s eventually a happy ending, even that comes at a tragically high price.

Along the way we see police brutality and torture, savage and murderous communal violence, the mutilation of children for profit, underage prostitution and almost inconceivable poverty.

During the ‘Industry Practice’ section of my MA course, development and sales consultant Tom Strudwick was keen to stress the importance of genre in marketing.

In particular, he warned against using generic conventions in marketing to mislead the audience so they expect one thing and end up with another – something that does terrible damage to the film’s ‘playability’ (the long and lucrative theatrical life it can gain through word-of-mouth).

Hopefully Slumdog Millionaire is now picking up sufficient pedigree (ie critical acclaim and awards) to find its audience as a very strong piece of drama. It’d be a shame if the film suffered because of misguided emphasis on the cutesie teen-love aspect.

Link one: Programme notes for last week’s BFI preview and Q&A with Danny Boyle, including quite a few quotes from Simon Beaufoy on writing the script (The Q&A didn’t provide too much stuff from a screenwriter’s point of view that hasn’t been in the various interviews with DB).

Link two: A Creative Screenwriting podcast interview with Simon Beaufoy.

Link: "Genre, give up your secrets!"

You've probably seen this already, but James Henry ('Blue Cat') has posted some excellent and thought-provoking analysis of why the current batch of genre shows on British telly aren't really tickling his fancy.

His posting has also prompted an interesting debate in the comments, including some valuable input from James Moran (Doctor Who, Torchwood, Spooks: Code 9 etc)

Demons, ITV

Happy new year, oompah-pilgrims!

I'm going to be up to my elbows in the gore of the Degree Show for the next fortnight, but thought I'd better get back on the blogging bike and get something down about Demons.

After the recent arrival of Apparitions on the other side, I was really looking forward to the show. The set-up is a fairly straightforward initiation plot. Luke Rutherford (Christian Cooke) learns from his cool American godfather Rupert Galvin (Philip Glenister) that he's the last of the Van Helsing family of monster slayers.

As a result, he has to join Rupert and their blind associate Mina Harker (Zoe Tapper) and become a warrior in the eternal war between humanity and the 'half-live' – apparently malevolent supernatural beings who live on the periphery of human perception.

This all sounds interesting enough, especially to a fan of the genre, but we never really find out what's so very bad about the half-live, other than their slightly gruesome appearance and unappealing table manners.

Maybe that would be an interesting way of tinkering with theme and generic conventions; instead of assuming that the half-live are vermin that need to be eradicated, we could be led to the realisation that Team Van Helsing are actually genocidal persecutors of the 'freaks', who might just want to be left alone.

As nasty as the half-live look, I think we need a bit more of an overall threat to make the stakes apparent. The main villain of the opener is Gladiolus Thripp, played with gleeful extravagance by Mackenzie Crook. But again, he doesn't give off a real sense of danger and he is fairly easily disposed of at the end. And haven't we done contrived quasi-Victorian names by now?

I enjoyed it, but not in the way – or as much – I hoped I would. I was hoping it'd be a bit darker and Lovecraftian, even given its scheduling, but the focus on the disruption of Luke's normal teenage life skews it much younger; Buffy still casts a long shadow, and Demons will do well to get out of it.

Much has been made of Philip Glenister's dubious American accent, but his emphatic presence is what holds the programme down and stops it being too lightweight. He gives off an air of pained experience from many years of gazing into the abyss, and while Luke's initiation is the focus, you can't help thinking that Rupert's going to be the real star of the show. But that's Philip Glenister for you.

Still, the theme of strangeness lurking just beneath the surface of everyday life is a compelling one – it drove my MA major project, The Last of the Reality Police – and Demons has a strong-enough sense of place to provide a spicy blend of the familiar and the macabre. It just needs one good really scary episode to get the engine running.

In other news... I saw Slumdog Millionaire at the BFI t'other neet, followed by a quick Q&A with Danny Boyle. The film was great – I'll try and get summat down about it in the next couple of days.