DGA and Oscar

As Clint Eastwood scoops the award for Best Director at the Director's Guild of America awards for his Million Dollar Baby, it is worth noting the links between the two awards.

According to Gold Derby:

Only two DGA champs failed to be nominated for Best Director at the Oscars: Steven Spielberg (The Color Purple) in 1985 and Ron Howard (Apollo 13) in 1995.

Whilst IMDB identifies the following:

The DGA Award for Outstanding Directorial Achievement in Feature Film has nearly always been a perfect forecast of the winner of the Oscar for Best Director. Since its inauguration in 1949 the winners of both awards only differed six times. In 1969 Anthony Harvey (II) won the DGA Award for Lion in Winter, The (1968) while (I) Reed, Carol won the Oscar for Oliver! (1968). 1973 Francis Ford Coppola received DGA's nod for Godfather, The (1972) while the Academy selected Bob Fosse for Cabaret (1972). In 1986 Steven Spielberg received his first DGA Award for Color Purple, The (1985) while the Oscar went to Sydney Pollack for Out of Africa (1985). In 1996 Ron Howard was chosen by the DGA for his direction of Apollo 13 (1995) while Academy voters cited Mel Gibson (I) for Braveheart (1995). In 2001 Ang Lee was chosen by the DGA for his direction of Wo hu cang long (2000) while Steven Soderbergh won the Best Director Academy Award for Traffic (2000). In 2003 Rob Marshall won the DGA Award for Chicago (2002) while Roman Polanski received the Academy Award for Pianist, The (2002).

Even though there has been more discrepancies in recent years, I guess we are odds-on now to see Clint lift the Oscar...?

The Rotter's Club

A belated post on this new TV series, based on Jonathan Coe's novel. Due to my addiction to Law & Order: Criminal Intent, and a clash of teaching with L&O's broadcast time, Cloud and myself did not catch the Wednesday broadcast of the first episode. So, Saturday night, spotting a late repeat, we settled in.

I have to say, Tory-boys or no, this was a well-constructed trip down memory lane that pulled few punches about the events of the period (1974). Kathryn Flett in the Observer yesterday smartly identified that the cast was a real highlight:

Hugo Speer, Julian Rhind-Tutt, Sarah Lancashire, Mark Williams, Christine Tremarco, Rebecca Front, Elizabeth Berrington ... why Mr Ambassador, with this you are spoiling us.

What Flett misses off this list though are the delightful performances by the younger members of the cast: the three central boys (Geoff Breton, Nicholas Shaw and Rasmus Hardicker), and - of the girls - definitely Alice O'Connell. All pretty much first time performers, they put in some well-nuanced portrayals of their characters. Commendations all round.

Have to admit though, I got a guilty pleasure seeing the awfully-named, but awfully-enticing, Julian Rhind-Tutt taking up the role of Nigel Plumb. As Flett noted:

We were well past the halfway point before being introduced to pretentious, velvety-voiced-and-trousered art teacher Nigel Plumb, alias Julian Rhind-Tutt (Green Wing's dreamy Dr McCartney), but already his aesthetic education-cum-seduction of Sarah Lancashire's Barbara Chase is shaping up to be a minor comic masterpiece.

Taking the fifth, but beyond the acting it's definitely the hair...

Choosing favourite films of a year

Apparantly, at this time of year, there are these award ceremonies that decide on the best films of the past year.

For what it's worth - and I am sure I have forgotten several corking contenders for this - my films of 2004 were

* Before Sunset
* Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
* Shaun of the Dead

I will return to the issue of award ceremonies and nominations in another post.

Anne Sexton: After Auschwitz

As a follow-up to my post yesterday, I thought I would offer this poetic work by Anne Sexton.

"Death looks on with a casual eye..."

Mitchell and Kenyon

Tonight is the final installment of the fascinating documentary on two early 20th century filmmakers from Blackburn called Mitchell and Kenyon. This collections of reels, now held by the British Film Institute, has been uttely compelling to watch and a DVD will soon be available to purchase. For most of us, photography has been our only window into the world of our grand-parents or beyond. So to see the streets of Nottingham come to life in these fascinating films from c.1902 was just delightful. As a fan of looking at architecture in cities - watching the changing shapes of roads, the re-modelling of buidings - it was a journey through time I never thought would be possible. To see the buildings as my grandparents saw them, as my great-grandparents saw them, brought to life experiences of my home town unimaginable before seeing this footage.

Mitchell and Kenyon travelled around the UK filming everyday activities. From goalkeeper 'fatty Faulkes' of Bury (6' 2" and 24 stone) to the shawl-covered women leaving their factory jobs, these reels of film - almost lost to history - offer insights into our past. They also offer a touching reminder of life before World War I and the changes, both positive and negative, wrought by the loss of human life incurred between 1914 and the start of the 1920s.

Oscar night

I have only really watched the Oscars 'live' once - the timing for its broadcast in the UK doesn't really suit for going to work that same day (carpets and preliminaries till about 2am and the ceremony itself finishing up around 5-6am). That one experience of watching it 'live' was when myself and Helen were in New York and we sat up to watch it on TV (touchingly, appropriately, it was the year that Russell Crowe won for Gladiator: apologies once more to our next-door neighbours in the hotel for the instinctive whoops at whatever ungodly hour it was that 'Best Actor' got announced. Note: he should have won for The Insider).

For those who have only bothered with the highlights or newsclips, the Oscars coverage - especially as done in the USA - is a bewildering and meandering affair. The carpet arrivals take FOREVER, with dissection of every hair, diamond, strap and split for every woman who pauses (and some men). There are advert breaks VERY regularly (it always tickled me that every 'hour' of real-time on the series 24 was only 45 minutes in the UK due to the advert break-structure) and the 'patter' of the host can be frustratingly corny.

So it will be interesting to see what changes - if anything - this time around. Attempting to tap into a new generation (a little late and now mainstreamed I think), comedian Chris Rock has been selected to host 2005. One interesting point that may come from this: what will happen and be said regarding the black actors nominated this year, whether they win or not?

Grandchild of the Holocaust

60 years on from Auschwitz

On this day where we should all take some time to reflect on our place in the world, it seems appropriate to mention how moving I found last night's programme Grandchild of the Holocaust (BBC1). Perhaps it was the simplicity of the idea: the journey made by one family to understand its past and how the experiences they revisited had shaped everything since. One of the things I found especially moving was how the young boy, Adrian Salt (aged 13), expressed his growing understanding of why his grandmother had always found it difficult to answer his questions about her early life and what happened at Auschwitz and Belsen. What she knew, but what he could not have, was that only when the family was ready and able to go there - to truly see - could he begin to grasp her decision, her inability, to describe her experiences in response to simple questions.

The culminating shot, of the survivors with their grandchildren - so precious and treasured, so protected and fretted over - brought to life the significance of these grandparents actions within their families.

It is hard to decide on the most appropriate link here so I offer this link and this one as sources of thought.

For when words fail: The Surrealist Compliment Generator

Since it can be so hard sometimes to come up with the right words to say, I thought a note directing you to the MadSci laboratory's wonderful source of bewildering compliments...

I especially liked this one:

Legions of Communists worship your robust cannabalism of Capitalists clad in junk mail suits.

Ultimate Films: counting into the top 50...

Many moons ago, before the world got bored with Rullsenberg's blogging, I started looking over the list produced by Channel Four of the most successful films in the UK. The biggest box office hits were counted down, not in terms of ticket values, but in terms of bums-on-seats.

Here is the next selection of "seen", "not sure" and "unseen"

Seen
47 Independence Day 1996 - Bruckheimer! Nonsense! Jingoism! Sentimentalism! Ah, shucks, it's still a fun movie (even if Mulder doesn't think so)
46 The Godfather 1972 - Much watched. Poor Apollonia...
45 The Sting 1974 - I was SO taken in by it!
44 Doctor Zhivago 1967 - Purists will say it doen't reflect the book well, but this is a gloriously indulgent emotional rollercoaster
43 The Guns Of Navarone 1961 - Yawn, yes, seen it...
41 The Jolson Story 1947 - one of many bio-pics watched on Sunday afternoons

Unseen
49 I Live In Grosvenor Square 1945 - Am sure my nana would crack me for having 'forgotten' this but I am darn near certain I haven't seen it.
42 Piccadilly Incident 1946 - Sorry again nana

The category of "I-wish-I-had-not-seen":
48 Carry on Nurse 1959 - For once I am with Ken Russell on something; the Carry On films are pants. Fine at age 8; embarrassing thereafter...

Sidebar updates

Some of you may notice - if indeed you care - that my sidebar has changed slightly. I am attempting to expand my links and interests and make it a little clearer for navigating to other stuff. Bear with me whilst this is ongoing!

Your errant blogger - Rullsenberg

St Mirren and Douglas Henshall

For those whose love of football leads them to support some of the less fashionable clubs, it can be nice to see fans who hit the big time still taking some time out to give them a boost. So it warms me to post a link here to some pictures and an article that actor Douglas Henshall was involved in with his home team of St Mirren back in 2001.

Although I have always had a soft spot for Celtic over Rangers, I certainly sympathise with the motivations of his father for getting him into a club not overtly associated with sectarian support.

St Mirren are now one of the little minnows of the Scottish leagues, but it wasn't always thus: the mighty Alex Ferguson managed the team between 1974 and 1978 before moving to Aberdeen and then taking up with the behemoth that is Manchester United.

All this is by way of saying that Henshall looks cute with his still-long locks on these pictures. I have to note though that every time I regularly start checking their results the team starts losing again! They had a great run over the late 2004 period, and were clearly second in the Scottish First Division table only to hit a disastrous run of form - just recently broken by Stewart Kean's goal against mid-table Airdrie United. Come on Saints!

Rullsenberg Rants: Inheritance Tax in the UK

Mr Cloud has some interesting points to make today on the issue of Inheritance Tax in the UK, given the inflated prices of property currently affecting the market value of homes.

Two points:
(1) Quarter of a million is a lot of value by anybody's standards, but in the context of the West versus much of the rest of the globe, this is an obscene amount of money. I would also add that for many in the UK it is an obscene amount of money. Making IHT a cornerstone of any financial campaign to improve the wealth of this nation does indeed therefore come across as specious.

(2) I do, however, have some sympathy with those who inherit property where someone, either wholly or as one of a number of siblings, is currently residing in the property.

In some parts of the country - due to the ridiculously inflated market, and not least due to the impact of property sell-offs by Councils in the past - there are properties of relatively modest proportions which are currently adjudged to be worth over a quarter of a million.

Additionally, a property is only worth what someone is prepared to pay for it - not the same thing as its adjudged market value, and for a variety of reasons the property may not be able to be sold (unfit; requires substantial work to make it 'saleable' etc).

The recent legislation to protect gay partnership in the same way as a heterosexual married couple (or an unmarried one with a specific statement in their will) is admirable, but what happens when siblings disagree about when/how they receive their 'cut'? What happens when someone has been living as a carer and the property is their home: their ONLY home? What if the market precludes them selling up to move to another property - smaller, cheaper - even if they wanted or were able to?

Of course, my parents lived in council rented accommodation all their lives and it would never have crossed their minds that they may leave me much: anything, in fact. But the impact of the mass Council House sell-off of the Thatcher era is now reaping these types of debates. It seems that well-meaning journalists find it easy to forget just how impossible property ownership still remains for many people, how new an experience it is, and how it has been sold to them as a concept now for perpetuity - it is the reinforcement that it is not only acceptable but a simple expectation that one will inherit property from your family. How ironic that many of those complaining loudest are the same families now widely dispersed by geography to their own mortgaged properties across the country (no longer resident with those who make these bequests of houses).

Paint the whole world with rather disurbing rainbows

Courtesy of Hak Mao and others, for those of you wanting to have a good choke (pun intended) here is a clip to warm your nostalgic memories of children's TV...

I don't think it was ever QUITE like this though (unless we are having those Captain Pugwash type-false memories...)

Ethan Hawke and Julia Stiles: Hamlet for an existential moment

Over the weekend, Cloud and myself watched the 'Ethan Hawke in New York' version of Shakespeare's magnificent play Hamlet. I have to say that, for all the criticisms it received for editing the text - and at just 112 minutes it runs way shorter than several other versions, and is over half the length of Branagh's magisterial stage/cinematic vision - I find this one of the most effective updates of Shakespeare produced in recent times. Shakespeare's narratives offer some of the most flexible texts available to those seeking to deal with the root issues of human nature and experience, and thus it is inevitable that they are repeatedly returned to and explored. As the Harlesdon Shakespeare experience revealed, the text can bring to life many contemporary concerns even as the language may appear florid and impenetrable.

Michael Almereyda brings to life the complex relationships - both business and personal - of these figures, and in locating them within the existential angst of corporate and familial New York he also succeeds in lending them an acute relevance that for some audiences can be lost through the use of a past historical moment. (It is easier to trip over the language issues when the presentation is in a setting before the last century). For me, one of the best things about the film is how Almereyda draws a beautiful portrayal of Ophelia from young Julia Stiles. A fan of JW Waterhouse's stunning image, one of the few paintings to truly capture the desperate heartache of Ophelia's madness, I found this version of the character one of the best I have seen. Her scream of anguish in the cavernous spiral of the Guggenheim Museum is utterly haunting. For those who wish to compare it with some less compelling versions (who shall remain nameless here) it is worth seeking out.

Of course, all this is by way of an introduction to considering other favourite Shakespeare's on screen: I will return to thise thought over the next few days, but given how cinema and TV consistently return to the Bard for inspiration it may be worth considering what makes for a good interpretation on screen, since the cinematic and televisual canvas offer both new possibilities and simultaneously new difficulties not confronted by stage versions.

Guggenheim museum - expansion too far?

When Solomon R. Guggenheim was first setting up his Museum in New York, he and Hilla Rebay - the first director of the Museum - would scarcely have believed it would have more than one venue in the USA. Over recent years, the Guggenheim has become something of a global franchise. Not always successfully.

The Guardian reports today that one of the Museum's major benefactors has now resigned over the issue of expansion; an issue that has been forcibly championed by Director Thomas Krens. Whilst I can forgive them the expansion to include Peggy Guggenheim's Venice collection - most of which is vunerable to damage in transit - many of their other ventures seem to be merely opportunities for further temporary exhibition spaces; either of temporary shows or of selections (limited ones) from the SRG collection.

Guggenheim Soho (closed 2001)
Guggenheim Bilbao, Spain (still going strong, though largely thanks to Gehry's architecture rather than the exhibitions)
Deutsche Guggenheim Berlin (essentially a franchise name venue of the Deutsche Bank)
Guggenheim Las Vegas - a joint venture with the Hermitage, St. Petersburg (confusingly, the Guardian reports this venture closed after 15 months - with its current exhibition "The Pursuit of Pleasure" heavily advertised on its website, one would safely bet there will be a Guardian correction tomorrow).

Until 9/11 finally put the kibosh on their plans for New York, they had even planned a large Lower Manhattan venue by one of the piers. Nevertheless, Thomas Krens' ambitions for the Guggenheim name have remained undiminished.

As Charlotte Higgins notes:

the roll call of other cities that have been in talks with the Guggenheim about establishing a branch is almost endless. Taichung in Taiwan was mooted, with a museum to be built by the British architect Zaha Hadid. Even Edinburgh made a pitch.
Mr Krens is currently forging ahead with plans to establish a Guggenheim in Rio de Janeiro, with architecture by the French-born Jean Nouvel, and he is undertaking a feasibility study for another in Guadalajara, Mexico.
Mr Krens once said that the museum of the future should have "great collections, great architecture, a great special exhibition, a great second exhibition, two shopping opportunities, two eating opportunities, a hi-tech interface via the internet, and economies of scale via a global network".

What exactly is the Guggenheim, specifically Krens, trying to do? Back in the 1930s when Peggy Guggenheim was first setting herself up as a dealer, Rebay wrote in scathing tones to warn her that she was destroying the reputation of the Guggenheim name with her 'shop'. Now it seems that Krens has gone much, much further: and this is against a backdrop of FALLING attendances at the Guggenheim, especially at its centre - the Frank Lloyd Wright spiral gallery on Fifth Avenue, New York. Whilst I accept that museums and galleries have to compete with other (tourist/educational) attactions, it does seem to be doomed to failure to stretch the Guggenheim resources this thinly. And that is a real shame, since there are many truly wonderful works in the collection and several of their temporary exhibitions have been inspiring. However, too much emphasis on the commercial and too many joint ventures have dimmed Krens' vision: the Guggenheim needs a re-appraisal of its aims in the wake of this resignation --- because this is about a lot more than just corporate money disappearing off the table.