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A COCK AND BULL STORY

Movie Reviews

UK 2005. Cert: 15. 94 mins. Dir: Michael Winterbottom. Cast: Steve Coogan, Rob Brydon, Shirley Henderson, Dylan Moran, David Walliams, Jeremy Northam, James Fleet, Stephen Fry, Naomie Harris, Ian Hart, Gillian Anderson

Movie Review by Ian Winterton

You don’t have to be familiar with The Life And Opinions Of Tristram Shandy, Gent, Laurence Sterne’s groundbreaking 18th century novel, to get a lot out of A Cock And Bull Story. Indeed, all you need to know about the book is that it is considered the most unfilmable book in history. As Coogan intones in the film, Sterne was “post-modern before there was any modernism to be post about”, with his narrator trying to give us the story of his life but getting so caught up in the lives of his forebears that, by the end of 312 chapters, he hasn’t finished describing his birth yet.

The filmmakers’ approach is simple – make the movie about the making of the film of Tristram Shandy, simultaneously exposing the follies of the film business, illuminating the novel’s major themes (mortality, unreliable narrators, human vanity) while stating from the off that they don’t stand a chance of succeeding – and works brilliantly.

Flitting back and forth between scenes set within the novel and the foolhardy struggle of the filmmakers, A Cock And Bull Story is consistently hilarious, thought-provoking and brimming with energy. The post-modernism isn’t just a one-way street, as it spills out into our world with stars Coogan, Brydon and, in a cameo, Gillian Anderson, starring as themselves. As with the book, knowledge of these celebrities isn’t essential to enjoying the movie but, particularly when Coogan is shown discussing his extra-marital affairs with his agent, it adds an extra level of enjoyment.

Shot primarily on hand-held digital, A Cock And Bull Story is similar to Winterbottom’s triumphant 24 Hour Party People (the real Tony Wilson appears as himself, interviewing Coogan), only even better. There are many reasons for this, but the main one is that, while the earlier film relied on the sublime talents of Coogan, here he’s joined by the equally talented Rob Brydon.

A Cock And Bull Story was one of the audience favourites at last year’s Leeds International Film Festival – if you didn’t catch it then, now’s your chance to see the most pretentious, self-referential, unsufferable smug and – oh yes – fantastic British film for years.

★★★★

First published in The Leeds Guide magazine in 2005.

BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN

Movie Reviews

USA 2005. Cert: 15. 134 mins. Dir: Ang Lee. Cast: Jake Gyllenhaal, Heath Ledger, Michelle Williams, Anne Hathaway

Review by Ian Winterton

As is so often the way, after the full-on cheese-fest of summer, which merges with the commerciality of Christmas, January sees the release of what, 12 months from now, will still be seen as one of 2006’s best films.

Maestro Ang Lee returns to form after the shambles that was Hulk with an epic American love story. It’s the early 1960’s and herders for hire Jack (Gyllenhaal) and Ennis (Ledger) are sent up into the mountains of Wyoming to look after a herd of sheep. Sharing a tent, it soon becomes apparent that they both want to be more than just friends and. Ennis insists that he “ain’t queer”. “Neither am I,” says Jack, although you get the impression he’s saying this for Ennis’ sake. After their initial affair, it’s obvious that they’re both in love. But Ennis, having witnessed “what happens to queers” as a young boy, is keen to bury his feelings and goes ahead and marries. Jack does the same, though with even less enthusiasm, and both men raise families. Before long, however, they’re embarking on ‘fishing trips’ together, living a lie for 20 years, only able to be their true selves for a few weeks.

A masterpiece on every level, Brokeback Mountain will bring a tear to the eye of all but the most hard-hearted homophobe. That said, the two men don’t have the monopoly on heart-rending emotion; their wives, played brilliantly by Hathaway (as a brassy Texan gal, she’s unrecognisable as the lead from The Princess Diaries) and Williams (The Station Agent), suffer awfully as the truth about their husbands becomes apparent.

Whether Hollywood can overcome its prejudices to give this the Oscars it deserves remains to be seen. In the meantime, I urge everybody to see Brokeback Mountain and not just because it’s the right-on thing to do; whatever you’re sexual preference, this is one of the best love stories for years.

★★★★

First published in The Leeds Guide magazine in 2006.

17th Espoo Ciné Film Festival

Magazine Features

It’s 7am, I’ve been up all night and I’m out of my face on Finnish vodka. And I’m 20 foot up a pine-tree. Yes, Finland’s 17th Espoo Ciné is the weirdest damn film festival ever.

It begins as soon as I arrive at my hotel, set amongst the aforementioned pine-trees in Espoo, a suburb of Finnish capital Helsinki. “You have two hours,” my festival greeter tells me, speaking, like most Finns, in perfect, but bizarrely flat, English. “And then sauna.”

“Hit me, please,” a man orders, handing me a clump of birch twigs. He is naked. I am naked. The other ten men sweating in the room with me are naked. It’s no big deal. I’m only BRITISH after all. But I do as I’m told and twat him as hard as I can, creating a shower of leaves and droplets of moisture (sweat? Water?). He screams out in pain. Too hard? “No,” he tells me, “just right. Again, please.” So I flail the guy until he tells me to stop. It’s like the scourging scene from The Passion Of The Christ. And then it’s my turn. (Yes, I enjoyed it). My whipping buddy introduces himself afterwards: he’s Timo Kuisman, executive director of the festival. “Welcome to Espoo.”

Showing some 90 films, this year’s Espoo Ciné is particularly special. With its fantasy and horror strand part of the European Fantastic Film Festivals Federation (check out the F’s on that) it has the honour of hosting the 10th Méliès d’Or, named after George Méliès, director of 1902’s groundbreaking Le Voyage dans la lune. The winner is selected from a shortlist consisting of one film nominated by each of the EFFFF’s 10 affiliated festivals (the UK represented by Leeds). As every film in the contest is guaranteed a Silver Méliès, the atmosphere at the awards ceremony is understandably celebratory.

And, this being Finland, distinctly strange. It opens with a performance from The Cleaning Women, a band of cross-dressing punks in big boots who play loud, mind-warping rock on homemade instruments. To get us in the fantasy mood, they play against an abridged version of Aelita: Queen Of Mars, a rare example of Soviet sci-fi from 1924 mixing Flash Gordon-style aesthetics with Marxist revolutionary ideals. Mind-blowing. Also shown is the winner of the Méliès d’Or short film competition, Starfly, a wonderful homage to 1950s Americana courtesy of Luxembourg’s Beryl Koltz.

For the main prize, the jury had a hard time picking a winner (indeed, two of its members resigned in protest), but eventually settled on Danish fantasy-parable Adam’s Apples. A truly wonderful film that sees a neo-Nazi sentenced to community service with a maddeningly optimistic priest, producer Mie Andreasen – on hand to collect the award on behalf of director Anders Thomas Jensen – later tells me it’s only getting a DVD release in the UK. Subtitles, you see. Ashamed to hail from such a philistine nation, I fully embrace my European side and drink lots of neat vodka. Which, combined with my British tendency for drunken exuberance, leads to me climbing a tree. Watching the sun rise over the pines, I think how beautiful it all is and how I’m not remotely guilty for having hardly watched any films because I’m in love with the Finns, those crazy, polite, socialist, boozed-up, sauna-obsessed party animals and… and how the hell am I going to get down from here?

This article first appeared in  Hotdog Magzine in 2005.

INTERVIEW: JOHNNY DEPP and TIM BURTON ON ‘CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY’

Celebrity Interviews

Giggling. Reminiscing about their 15 years working together, Johnny Depp and Tim Burton are giggling together like a couple of kids.

“When you squirted blood all over my face off-camera on Sleepy Hollow,” laughs Depp, speaking with a strange accent – a mix of his Kentuckian birthplace and his current residence, Paris.

“That was fun,” chuckles Burton. “Or when you were dragged by those horses.”

“Oh yeah,” recalls Depp. “There were two horses and I was being dragged along on this thing behind them.”

“They both had really bad flatulence,” chips in Burton.

“They’d had curry for lunch,” says Depp, “and I was the recipient.”

Equine farting and fake blood – there aren’t many individuals for whom such things are everyday occurrences. But Depp and Burton aren’t everyday people. Both renowned for being kooky, their weirdness intensifies whenever they collaborate. It began in 1990 when Burton cast Depp as the lead in Edward Scissorhands, the tale of a leather-clad gothboy with blades for fingers. Ed Wood, a biopic of the worst director ever, followed in 1994. Widely regarded as Burton’s masterpiece, it was a box office disappointment.

Not that Burton would have worried himself, either over a film’s takings or its critical reception. Ever since his apprenticeship as Disney animator, he’s always done exactly as he pleases. The same can be said of Depp who – though sporting NHS-style specs and a large, black, floppy cap reminiscent of Dom Joly’s pretentious artist – is still inescapably tanned, slim and handsome. Having fought a battle with his good looks throughout his career, he freely acknowledges that Burton set him free. In his foreword to Mark Salisbury’s biography of the director, he writes that his friend rescued him from being “just another piece of expendable Hollywood meat”.

Since then, he has consistently chosen roles that lean towards the gothic or grotesque. Willy Wonka, with his buckteeth, pallid complexion and pseudo-Edwardian oufit, has shades of both.

“We’re so lucky to have Roald Dahl’s book,” says Depp. “It was an amazing help in building Wonka’s character. In early conversations with Tim we talked about various things, like children’s show hosts and that kind of strange cadence with which they speak to children. And the mask they put on, the sort of perpetual grimace of a smile.”

It all makes for one of Depp’s most memorable characters and, for Burton, a movie that, while no Ed Wood, is at least no Planet of the Apes. Burton, like Depp, reiterates the importance of the book.

“We tried to keep close to Dahl’s amazing writing,” he says, “because that was the reason we all wanted to do the film. We wanted to capture his humour and the mixture of light and dark and emotion that he puts into it.”

The film’s emotional core is represented by Charlie Bucket. The only kid in the film who’s not spoiled, greedy or obnoxious, it was clear he would have to be played by a child from outside Hollywood. When London-born Freddie Highmore, then only 10 years old, co-starred with Depp in Finding Neverland, their search was over.

“I’d characterise Freddie as completely pure and honest and just the sweetest, most normal guy in the world,” gushes Depp. “Working with Freddie, I think all of us noticed that he ups the stakes because when he delivers one hundred per cent.”

“And he hasn’t done any jail time yet,” adds Burton. “For a child actor, he’s doing very well so far.”

While Burton’s film does stick closely to the book, he did feel the need to create a backstory for Willy Wonka. In flashback, we see his over-protective dentist father banning his son from eating sweets.

“The book doesn’t explain Wonka’s eccentricity,” Burton explains. “I feel that, when you see an eccentric character, if you don’t get a flavour of why he’s eccentric, then he’s just a weird guy. We wanted to show a little bit of that to get a flavour of that without destroying the mystique of the character.”

“It was a really brave move,” Depp asserts. “As an actor, it’s the kind of thing that you try to put in your homework, even if it isn’t on the page or in the film. Having Wonka’s backstory was really helpful.”

Thanks to a strong script, the additional material fits seamlessly into Dahl’s vision. It helps, of course, that Wonka’s father is played by the legendary Christopher Lee. Depp, having fathered two children – Lily-Rose and Jack – with his long-term girlfriend, Vanessa Paradis, can identify with Wonka Snr’s protective instincts.

“Nobody could be as strict as Christopher Lee,” he chortles. “But you have to police the intake of sweets with kiddies otherwise they’ll be doing wind sprints at three in the morning.”

Was having kids of his own helpful in forming the character of Willy Wonka?

“I think being a father helps to add depth and texture and all kinds of wonderful things,” Depp coos. “When I was working out Wonka’s character, I tested the voice on Lily-Rose. It seemed to work on her so I kind of ran with it. Kids affect every aspect of your personal life, your working life, everything.”

Having seen Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Depp’s offspring gave it the thumbs-up and came home “quoting my lines, which was great fun”. Being young, they no doubt missed the scary fact that Daddy appears to be doing an impression of Michael Jackson. Though both clearly uncomfortable discussing Wacko, Burton and Depp can’t help but double up with laughter.

“Honestly,” asserts Depp, trying not to crack up again, “when we were doing the film it never dawned on me that there would be any kind of comparison.”

“But didn’t you enjoy his Sky trial recreations?” Burton butts in. “I thought he did an excellent job!”

Depp groans at his friend’s wind-up.

“I don’t really know what else to say about Michael Jackson other than he’s really a fine dancer,” is his diplomatic codicil, delivered with a straight face. Almost.

“It’s false, anyway,” chirps Burton. “We based it on Latoya!”

And, once again, the two men – the leading actor of his generation and one of Hollywood’s most unique directors – guffaw together like someone just told a booger joke. They really are on the same wavelength, providing one explanation as to why they make such a great creative team.

“We’ve got lots of problems,” says Burton, “and we like to work them out in films.”

“It is kind of therapeutic to go in and make an ass of yourself and get paid for it,” concurs Depp.

They’re not always weird, of course. Depp, especially, as been involved in numerous straight movies, from gangster flick Donnie Brasco to rollicking action-adventure Pirates of the Caribbean, and Burton – with two Batman movies and, uh, Planet of the Apes – has shown is not adverse to big studio projects. Would a future Depp-Burton movie tread more conventional ground?

“I thought Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas was conventional,” jokes Depp. “And Ed Wood was a conventional romantic comedy. In fact, Tim and I would like to announce that we’re going to do Friends: The Movie.”

And the scariest thing is, neither of them deny it. They just sit there. Giggling.

First published in City Life magazine in 2005.

BALANCE

Short Films

BALANCE is a short surfing drama filmed in South Wales starring Erin Richards (GOTHAM, THE QUIET ONES) and Tom Cullen (WEEKEND, LAST DAYS ON MARS). The film was made as part of a three week training programme by Skillset Media Academy Wales, directed by John Shackleton. IMDb link here

 

AUDIO PLAYS

Audio Plays

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SOUTH

Stage Plays

Antarctica, 1962, when ‘going south’ meant 12 months cut off from the world. Discovering upon arrival that the fiancée he left back home is pregnant, biologist Daniel puts ambition above his religious belief and stays. Seeking solace in his work, he uncovers disturbing evidence of the environmental disaster mankind may yet bring about. Teetering on the edge of depression, Daniel’s life is forever changed by his friendship with young dog-sledger, Jim. Then, when news of the Cuban Missile Crisis reaches the base, total destruction looms…

 

BIG SID

Stage Plays

‘Big Sid’ started out as an episode in Jack Rosenthal’s TV series ‘Nightingale’s Boys’, not seen since its transmission on Granada in 1976. With the permission of Rosenthal’s widow, Maureen Lipman, Ian Winterton adapted the screenplay for Lass Productions. Telling the story of Sid, a vainglorious cricketer struggling to find his place in the world upon retirement, the play is a bittersweet tale of a once-proud man forced to compromise.

It was directed by Nick Birchill and starred Colin Connor, Emma Laidlaw, Gary Hanks, Matt Lanigan, Will Hutchby and Lisa Connor.

THE BEST

Stage Plays

Adapted by Ian Winterton from an unfilmed movie script by Jack Rosenthal, with the input and blessing of his widow Maureen Lipman, the play tells the story of George Best, legendary footballer, as he looks back while in rehab at how his early life sowed the seeds of both his greatness – and his alcoholism. The stage version of The Best was a hit at theatres in the North West and won a Manchester Theatre Award.  At its London show it was seen by an approving Angie and Callum Best.

 

SINGLE YELLOWS

Stage Plays

A short play by Ian Winterton

Based on genuine slum landlord tactics, two low-level enforcers are sent by their slum landlord crime-boss to smash tenants’ toilets with sledgehammers. An oblique look at capitalism in credit crunch Britain and how trapped we can become by the simple phrase “I’ve got a family to feed”.

FULL TEXT – for permission to perform, please contact Ian Winterton via this website.

SINGLE YELLOWS

A short play by Ian Winterton

SETTING: A city street, morning.
CHARACTERS: Alan & Toby.

Alan stands, looking up at a tenement block, slowly counting the rows of windows under his breath, finger jabbing at the air. He is carrying a large hold-all.

Toby hurries on. He isn’t carrying a bag. He waits until Alan has finished counting.

 TOBY:           What are you doing, Al?

ALAN:           Counting the windows. Where’d you park?

TOBY:           Round the corner. Single yellows but an hour’s free parking.  Which is nice of ‘em, ain’t it? I read about it. They’re encouraging the shoppers.

ALAN:           An hour won’t be long enough. You’re an idiot.

TOBY:            Why you counting the windows, Al?

ALAN:            I’m calculating.

TOBY:            Calculating?

ALAN:            How many flats we’re talking. And therefore how many toilets.

TOBY:            And?

ALAN:            Twenty-four.

           Alan notices something on the floor.

Hm.

TOBY:            What?

ALAN:            Dandelion. Growing through a crack in the pavement.

TOBY:            Lot of cracks round here.

           Pause.

ALAN:            Twenty-four toilets. Never get ‘em all done in an hour. You’ll get a ticket.

TOBY:            It’s done now. I’ll risk it. I don’t know what I was thinking. An hour’s not long enough. ‘Specially if there are residents in.

ALAN:            What difference does that make, time-wise?

TOBY:            Time-wise, well, nothing. But they kick off. They shout. They cry. They get aggro. Sometimes you have to give one of them a slap. It’s stressful.

ALAN:             Stressful?

TOBY:            Don’t you find it stressful?

           Pause.

 ALAN:            I hate it when there are kiddies in. People get extra aggro then.

TOBY:            Understandable, I suppose.

ALAN:            Understandable?

TOBY:            Of course ‘understandable’. Al, we turn up out of the blue and smash up their toilet. How would you feel?

ALAN:            I wouldn’t live in a rat-infested shit-hole like this. I’d’ve done better for my family. I have done better for my family.

           He opens his bag and pulls out a sledgehammer.

Shall we get on with it?

          Pause.

Your bag in the car, then?

TOBY:            No. My bag’s not in the car. I didn’t bring it.

ALAN:            You didn’t bring it? What about your hammer? In the boot is it?

TOBY:            No.

ALAN:            No?

TOBY:            I forgot it.

ALAN:            You forgot it?

TOBY:            Yeah.

ALAN:            That was a bit remiss of you, Toby.

           Pause.

                          Problem, this. One hammer. Two of us. Twenty-four lavs Mr. Neame wants (quotes) “rendered inoperable”. Gonna take more than an hour.

TOBY:            I could go move the car off the single yellows.

ALAN:            Not really the issue.

TOBY:            The backstreets over the way. There’ll be gaps now people have gone off to work…

ALAN:            (Underlining his point) Not really the issue, Toby.

            Pause.

How could you forget your hammer? It’s all you had to remember when you got up this morning.

TOBY:            Yeah. (Beat) I keep it in the shed. It wasn’t there to remind me in the morning.

ALAN:            Neither was mine. Mine lives in the garage.

TOBY:            But next to your motor. It’ll have reminded you.

ALAN:            I didn’t need reminding. I woke up knowing my job today was to come here and deliver a message to Mr. Neame’s tenants, a message delivered in the form of us – both of us – smashing the fuck out of their khazis.

 TOBY:            So they’ll vacate the flats and Mr. Neame can sell the land.

ALAN:            It’s his to sell.

TOBY:            It is.

ALAN:            Flats’ll be… flattened. It’ll be a wasteground. More dandelions.

TOBY:            And nettles. And pools of stagnant water with clouds of midges.

ALAN:            Better than these flats. And, anyway, six months after there’ll be a lovely new Tesco Metro.

TOBY:            I expect you’re right.

ALAN:            You don’t sound like you’re in favour of a new Tesco Metro.

TOBY:            Maybe I’m not.

           Pause.

 ALAN:            My lad, he loves the clock game. You know-  (Holds up imaginary dandelion) You blow the seeds off a dandelion. Tell the time. (Blows) One o’clock. (Blows) Two o’clock.

TOBY:            I know the game.

ALAN:            You forgot your hammer. It’s your subconscious betraying you, innit?

TOBY:            My subconscious betraying me.

ALAN:            Because your heart ain’t in the job no more, is it?

TOBY:            Is yours, Al?

ALAN:            The money’s all right.

TOBY:            It’s enough is it, the money? You think Mr. Neame pays us enough, considering what our job entails?

ALAN:            Maybe you forgot your hammer on purpose.

TOBY:            Why would I forget it on purpose?

ALAN:            Because your heart’s not in the job.

TOBY:            I’m still here, aren’t I? I’m still gonna do what Mr. Neame asked.

ALAN:            Ordered.

TOBY:            Ordered. I’m still gonna do what Mr. Neame ordered.

ALAN:             How? You ain’t got a hammer.

TOBY:            We could take it in turns.

ALAN:            I told you how many toilets there are in this block.

TOBY:            Twenty-four.

ALAN:            Twenty-four. We go in, we have a hammer each, we smash the fuck out of…

           Alan thinks a second too long.

 TOBY:            Twelve/

ALAN:             (Cutting in; irritated) Twelve. Yeah, all right. We smash the fuck out of twelve toilets apiece, we go home. Job done. We share the hammer – it’s like one of us doing it. Might as well be one of us doing it.

TOBY:            OK, I’ll do it. I’ll do the lot. You wait in the car.

ALAN:             I don’t wanna wait in the car. We do enough of that.

TOBY:            Go to a caff then.

ALAN:             I don’t wanna go to a caff.

TOBY:            What I’m saying is, I’m the muppet who forgot his hammer. I’ll do it. I’ll do the lot.

           The two men consider one another.

           Alan hands over the hammer.

           Toby feels the weight of it in his hands.

 ALAN:            I can’t believe you forgot your hammer.

TOBY:             I know. What am I like?

           Toby’s phone vibrates.

                          Hang on. (He answers) Hello. (Pause) Yeah, he’s here.

           Toby stands before Alan.

It’s Mr. Neame. He says you’re to get on your knees.

ALAN:            What?

TOBY:            (Deadpan; pauses occasionally to listen to the phone) He says, and I’m paraphrasing here, get on your knees now, you piece of filth. Out here. Full view. Broad daylight. He wants everyone (looks up at the building) – especially this bunch with their long-term tenancy agreements and their legal aid – to know what kind of man they’re dealing with. And what happens to people who steal from him.

           Colour drains from Alan’s face.

                          Make a run for it and he’ll kill your lad.

           Toby offers him the phone. Alan takes it. Listens. Nods obediently.

 ALAN:            (Into phone) I’m sorry, boss.

           Alan sinks to his knees. Toby takes the phone back. Talks briefly to Mr. Neame.

 TOBY:            (Looking up at the windows) Yeah, they’re all looking. Ooh – (to  Alan) even some kiddies.

          Toby waves up at them.

Awwww. Bless. (Into phone) ‘Bye, boss.

           He puts the phone away.

           Alan droops his head. Focuses on a spot on the ground. Toby follows his gaze.

 TOBY:            Dandelion. Growing through a crack in the pavement.

ALAN:            Lot of those round here.

TOBY:            Be wasteground soon. Thanks to you. And then a Tesco Metro. That must be a comfort.

           Alan picks up an imaginary dandelion. Blows the seeds off.

ALAN:            One o’clock. First few times we played the clock game, that’s as far as we got. I blow all the seeds off in one go. My lad, he gets bored of this pretty quick. So I play at it. I hardly blow at all. (Blows lightly) And he laughs cos he knows I’m just messing. He knows I can do it in one if I want to. One o’clock. Two o’clock. Three o’clock.

           Pause.

                          Single yellows. One hour parking. You didn’t forget your hammer.

TOBY:            (Shakes his head) Precaution. In case you disobeyed the boss. Got aggro. I’ve seen what you can do with this baby.

             Alan looks up at Toby.

 ALAN:            (Delivered like a curse)Heavy, isn’t it,?

            Pause.

Make it quick.

TOBY:            You asked me, Al, if my heart was still in my job…

             He places the hammer at the back of Alan’s head.

Yeah. It is.

             Snap to black.

END