Why I Love: Almost Famous

On the whole I’m not a big believer in having a single favourite film, at least not personally. Others may find it easier to raise a single example from the multitudes and hail it, but I find this much harder. Films come in so many shapes and sizes that direct comparisons often seem pointless, they are all designed for different purposes (other than the entertain I suppose but even that could be argued to be secondary in some cases) and as such will impact people differently, or something impact the same person differently over time. This is all a roundabout way of saying that sometimes when my mind does consider the question there are only ever a few films I consider for that top spot, and Almost Famous is always amongst them.

Cameron Crowe’s 2000 ode to childhood, music and the pangs of first love has spoken deeply to me since I first watched it, but it is only over time that I have really come to appreciate what a remarkable film it is and also why it feels so special to me, personally. For those unfamiliar with the film it is a semi-autobiographical story dealing with William Miller (Patrick Fugit), a 15 year old boy who manages to get a gig writing an article for Rolling Stone magazine, a task that requires him to go on tour with an up and coming (fictional) band called Stillwater, The film plays out as a coming of age road movie as William’s eyes are opened to the world, but also as a love letter to a particular time in musical history and to those whose devotion to the music and artists comes to define them. Crowe balances a very thin line between waxing nostalgic about the good times, but not shying away from the darker elements either, as such it becomes so much a celebration of everything rock and roll without feeling false. But the backing and setting only work so well in conjunction with the main story, the plot machinations of which could have derailed the film early on but are perfectly handled so that by the time William gets on the bus, much to the chagrin of his overbearing mother (the superb Francis McDormand), we know exactly who he is and where he is coming from.

As it plays out he meets Penny Lane, one of the ‘band-aids’ who tour with Stillwater, played by Kate Hudson with such depth of feeling and damaged emotion that it makes me consistently depressed to view the direction her career has taken since the film’s release. She is revelatory here (deservedly Oscar nominated) making Penny so much more than a love interest, and as William falls for her over the course of the film, so do we. And therein lies the magic. Crowe lets his film breathe, he creates such a vibrant cast of characters, each rich and deep and then lets us spend time with them on tour a William does. But it never feels aimless, there are always short-term goals – William’s ever-elusive interview with Russell Hammond (Billy Crudup in another brilliant performance), his Rolling Stone deadline – which propel the story forward but don’t overwhelm the film’s more subtle moments. In fact when the film was released on DVD and Blu-Ray Crowe released an extended ‘Untitled’ cut of the film, which added nearly 40 minutes of footage, pushing the film to over 2 and a half hours, and yet this remains my preferred version of the film. Everything added contributes to the film and I find it flows better as a result with more little character details sketched in.

Along with the performances Crowe’s deft touch with music again comes to the forefront here, perfectly accompanying and enhancing the visuals without feeling like a greatest hits of the 70s. There are some famous tracks here for sure, but it is often the smaller instrumental contributions from Nancy Wilson that stick in the mind. To my mind this crystalises in a scene late on in the film that simply involves William saying goodbye at the airport, but in that simplicity is such a range of emotion, wonderfully etched without veering into sentimentality. It’s perfect.

On a personal level the notion of coming of age is one I find myself returning to in the films that I find real connection with. I think it’s the sheer force of change and loss of innocence that resonates, there are few things as empathetic to a view as a lost character finding their place in the world, or anything as purely heartbreaking as someone’s naivety and optimism being crushed by the often harsh realities of life. Almost Famous definitely veers towards the former of these scenarios, and its optimism is a key weapon in its continued appeal. Many criticise Cameron Crowe for his positivity, but I find his movies heartfelt and while he is certainly prone to saccharine moments these always stem from genuine emotion and character, there is nothing false or cynical about the best of his work and to me Almost Famous walks this line perfectly, providing an enriching and life-affirming experience every time I watch it and as such will be a film I continue to treasure.

Horrible Bosses (2011)

Black comedies are a difficult genre to master, to balance out circumstances and situations which would normally have no place in a comedy, and to spin them enough that they remain entertaining but don’t lose their edge is not easy. In that vein Horrible Bosses is not a black comedy, though I think on one level it really wants to be, but the fingerprints of a nervous studio aware they are making a mainstream release are all over it, sanding down any potential sharp edges and as a result denying the film any real bite.

The film concerns itself with three friends, all stuck in work situations made untenable by their overbearing, bullying and sexually inappropriate bosses. Nick (Jason Bateman) has been slaving away for a promotion he has no chance of actually getting to the delight of his egomaniacal boss (Kevin Spacey in scenery chewing mood), Kurt (Jason Sudeikis) seems to have a great position at a successful haulage firm until the induction of the free-loading morally bankrupt new owner Colin Farrell, resplendent with balding wig and beer belly changes things. Finally we have dental assistant Dale (Charlie Day) who is tormented by the sexually aggressive Jennifer Aniston (his friends consternation of how much this constitutes an actual problem echoes that of the audience, he certainly seems to get the better deal of things). Joined by their shared work situations the three, jokingly, suggest one night that killing off their bosses would solve their problems, and this acorn soon grows into a plan of action.

The trouble with high-concept comedies such as this is keeping the audience with characters on such an extreme journey. The idea of these friends moving from average guys in unhappy jobs to murderers is a potentially interesting arc, but one that is never really dwelt on, the decision almost seems arbitrary once it is set in motion and whilst the film is fairly consistently entertaining it never drove home either the true awfulness of the bosses to get us on side with the leads, or highlight the psychotic nature of their plan, which could also have worked to make their instability the focus. As it is each of the bosses gets to have their moment, all three actors clearly enjoying the chance to let loose, Anniston in particular seems to relish the chance to play such a different character from usual, but the film has no teeth, no sting and falls easily into stock situations (a character accidentally inhales drugs!) whilst taking a copout ending rather than risk something a lot darker.

All this is a shame as much of the film itself is very enjoyable, the three leads are all very funny and work well together and a few of the set pieces are well constructed providing many great moments. There is an amusing cameo from Jamie Foxx as well, who is used sparingly but well, but the films insistence on keeping things (relatively) light and fun gets in the way of its core premise which could have dealt with the ideas of revenge, or entitlement in a darkly subversive way. Instead the film is happy to tread water in the mainstream comedy pool, as such it’s not a bad film at all, but it is a more forgettable and rote experience than it might have been, which is a shame.

Prometheus (2012)

Ridley Scott’s much anticipated return to the Alien universe, and the science fiction genre in general, has been a long time coming and sets out as if to please many masters, be it fans who just want more ‘Alien’, those who are interested in the back-story of the original film, or those looking for a smart, adult science fiction story about the origins of human life. Unfortunately as it stands neither group is likely to be completely satisfied with the end results, Prometheus as finished product is undeniably stunning to look at, but is constantly hobbled by a script that is, frankly, something of a mess.

The film starts strongly enough, a wordless and visually amazing opening sequence depicts a mysterious alien figure seemingly seeding life on Earth. From this we skip ahead to the year 2089 where a team of scientists make a discovery, a series of symbols found throughout Earth’s history that resembles a star map. An invitation to meet our makers.

And just like that we skip ahead again, another 5 years to join the crew en route to LV226, a small moon in a faraway galaxy, and in one of the films strongest sequences, as we see David (Michael Fassbender, the clear standout character and actor in the film) the ships android roaming the halls and occupying his time as his shipmates slumber.

Already you will probably sense the Alien parallels here and these continue throughout, the film is clearly designed to evoke that original film, from its design, structure and even character, but more often than not these echoes only act to distance the viewer and prevent the film from truly stepping into its own. It is also clear as the film progresses, and especially with the ending that this was never meant as a standalone story, it lays hooks and questions for further sequels, but this sort of franchise building is something of an insidious trait that is creeping into modern films. The nature of the business and safety that sequels can provide have perhaps made it inevitable, but when a film seeks to provide vague or nonexistent answers purely in the hope of drawing you back for more, it feels slightly unsettling.

Not that the lack of answers is what bothered me about Prometheus, indeed for most of the film I was engaged by the story and mysteries, but then frustrated by the leaps in logic and odd tonal shifts that constantly threaten to overwhelm the action. From scene to scene character behave erratically, reactions to events are either over the top or nonexistent, these feel like people (too many people at that, so most become a blur of background extras) whose every move and behaviour is being dictated by the plot, mere chess pieces. It leads to lazily written scenes of characters wandering off on their own because, well because the story needs them too, or other characters suddenly spouting detailed exposition that they can’t have known, purely because another character needs to hear it. It is a constantly frustrating experience to be pulled from the narrative so frequently by these moments and scenes that just ring hollow.

There was even one scene in the film (that ultimately leads to one of the best sequences in the film in isolation) that felt so tonally off, and strange that I was convinced for a few minutes it must be a dream sequence, but it wasn’t. Noomi Rapace does a decent enough job in effectively the lead role, but her character is paper-thin and never expanded on, a scientist with deep religious beliefs this potentially interesting juxtaposition is never really explored. The same can be said for many of the big ideas the film focuses on, the question of where we come from and why we are here is as old as time itself, and there are some interesting ideas hinted at in the film, but they never really gel and there is little internal consistency . This extends to the threat in the film, which seems to have no clear pattern or logic, as such it stands in stark contrast to the original Alien, which had such a pure premise and clear focus. It seems harsh to land so much of this at the feet of the script, but it really must, whether in trying to remain faithful, yet explore the new, or mix blockbuster thrills with more cerebral ideas, it seems to fall short at every turn, not excelling at any one facet and weakening the others in the process. Lost scribe Damon Lindelof is credited with the script (from a first draft by Jon Spaihts and with considerable input from Ridley Scott by all account) and it is a shame that, coming from a TV series with one of the greatest casts of memorable and interesting characters, we see a film emerge with hardly any.

I realise as I write that this seems a stream of negativity but the truth is that Prometheus is not a bad film, it is technically astonishing at times with a fantastic use of 3D, some good performances and has some big, interesting ideas. But the failures in execution serve as much to render the rest worthless. I felt disconnected from these characters that the events of the film held no impact. A damning sign of this was when the end credits rolled (and after a rather horribly misjudged final scene) I had very little desire to see the story progress, despite the clear intention to leave the door for a sequel wide open, a fact that, given how much I was anticipating the film, saddens me.

My issues with the film do not primarily come from a desire to see Alien remade, I was entirely behind the idea of Ridley Scott doing something new within the same basic boundaries, instead I lament a potentially smart and interesting blockbuster that frequently feel stupid and nonsensical.