The Grand Budapest Hotel

Despite having The Royal Tenenbaums on DVD somewhere and always meaning to go and watch Fantastic Mr Fox, I have never actually seen a Wes Anderson film before this. The Royal Budapest Hotel certainly makes me more inclined to finally get around to them, however. A very silly, very fun and very carefully-crafted film - including Anderson's distinctive style of framing with the centre line always in mind - it was exuberant fun and, of course, had a stellar cast - not only in its big names like Ralph Fiennes and Jude Law, but with cameos from more or less all the stars of The Darjeeling Limited (though a major one for Brody) and even the kid I just saw in the Zero Theorem showing up as a gas pump attendant. 

A story contained in a series of flashbacks - a girl at an author's grave thinks about the book he wrote about the time he went to a hotel and heard the life story of its aged owner - it revolves around Ralph Fiennes' Lothario of a character who is willed a priceless painting by an old woman he seduced - which leads to a caper of theft, jailbreaks, a sweet little romance, gangsters hunting down lawyers, a very daft ski chase sequence, a civil war and a huge shoot-out. There's a sense of fun here that is missing from so many modern films, and is much needed - which is why this film, I feel, is becoming such a sleeper success. 

And for Wes Anderson's next films - well, I shall have to make a point of going. 

Gig: Space and Republica, London Islington O2 Academy

SO glad we went to see Space and Republica. Nostalgia aside it was a superb gig and I loved it. Didn't realise how much Republica I knew, but the real highlight were Space. They played Mr Psycho! Forgot how great that tune is! And for one chorus, Davina even provided lead vocals for 'Female of the Species'!

That's what I wrote for my Facebook, and sums up the night pretty well. I've been meaning to go to a Space gig for...well, since I started going to gigs over a decade ago, since I was a big fan of them as a teenager, but as they were largely defunct for a time, my only real chance was when they played a university May Ball, and I didn't make it - until today, and a joint reunion tour with Republica. 

The two bands actually have more in common than I had ever thought until seeing them side-by-side, quite aside from being popular at similar times. Both are known as rock bands but are really electronic projects with the clear centres of their bands being the keyboard player and the singer. Both - though perhaps this is a new innovation - are very reliant on a fair bit of playback, playing along with a lot of loops and samples, sapping some of the energy but providing a very solid performance for the singers. And both have enduring and enthusiastic fanbases, which made the atmosphere a joy. 

Space came on first. Their original drummer, of course, passed away not too long ago, and they had a peculiar young man in a fez and shades perhaps controlling the samples, but otherwise the band has aged but changed little. Frontman Tommy Scott looks rather different now, going for a rather Gary Oldman look but with a camp swagger that ends up giving him more of an air of Paul O'Grady, but he still has the impressive voice and the storyteller's gift. 

They kicked off the show, unexpectedly, with 'Charlie M' - which is actually a great party-starter. That led into the storming 'Mr Psycho', which I had almost forgotten about but which is an absolute highlight and incredibly fun. I was very gratified the band played 'Begin Again', which was the song that got into my head and made me remember this gig was taking place (spotted when we played in the O2 Academy bar) and the new songs from 'Attack of the Killer 50ft Kebab' (a title perhaps a little too daft, but an album I've been sure to buy after this) were great - far better than the odd leading single. The title track was exhilarating, but it was 'She's In Love With the Boy in the Body Bag' that convinced me there is still a real songwriting force here. 

The band had a lot of technical difficulties, which only highlighted the slight lack of spontaneity that comes from such a heavy use of loops - and it felt a lot of the time like the drummer might as well not have even been there - but this is after all an intricate sound. There's a lot of variety, too, and it was lovely when Cerys Matthews' part in 'The Ballad of Tom Jones' was supplied by a big projected head. Another highlight came towards the end when Tommy jumped into the crowd and got people to sing the chorus of 'Female of the Species' - the Space track that will undoubtedly endure, and was fun to see played on the keyboard - which included my friend Davina. The band finished with 'Neighbourhood', of course, and though possibly some other bands at bigger gigs have moved me more, this was very possibly the most fun I've had at any of them, and the shortest any full set from a band has ever seemed.

Republica - well, I have issues with Republica. Their hits justify their self-image of 'Technopop punk rock', but the rest of their oeuvre is a lot heavier on the technopop and a lot lighter on the punk rock. Disco beats prevail, the band has no bassist and the guitar is very much draped on top of the massive sound from the guy in the 'Lord, forgive me for my synths' t-shirt. The drummer, a very fresh-faced 20-year-old, clearly has chops and has watched Mike Portnoy DVDs for some excellent toolbox mini-fills, but is very much restrained by the simple song structures and even occasionally has to play along to synthesised hi-hat loops, meaning I spent the whole gig wondering how he would play in a band that allowed him to actually express himself. 

On the other hand, taken as a pop group, or even an Infected Mushroom-style electro collective, and focusing on the playback and the singer, they are a fantastic band. Mixed-race singer Saffron has a hell of a voice and a great stage presence that is at once commanding and likeable. Her delivery of 'Drop Dead Gorgeous' doesn't come over as contrived, and she is clearly having fun. She is fantastic and deserves even more than she has already achieved. The songs are also simple, direct fun - to the point and often extremely high-energy. There is little possibility for real spontaneity here - they even had to play 'Ready to Go' a second time when it was clear the crowd wanted an encore - but taken as a pop group with a superb frontwoman, Republica certainly still have it. 

The Zero Theorem

Terry Gilliam's new film has slipped out with a remarkable lack of marketing or publicity to only a few cinemas - it seems to have been distributed far more as an art film than the likes of Parnassus or The Brothers Grimm. It feels like the momentum has gone out of Gilliam's film directing career - is he too associated with projects that never get finished? - but I very much want to support him making more brilliant films, so I was certain to see this at the cinema. 

On the other hand, it was not one of his finest works. True, it was the most like the brilliant Brazil of all his films - certainly far more so than 12 Monkeys. True, once it got going I liked it very much. But it was a bit of a hard slog getting there, and with the uninspired ending it ultimately felt like a third of a great film and two thirds of a rather dull one. 

The Zero Theorem is the story of insular, agoraphobic Qohen Leth, played by Tarrantino darling Christoph Waltz, who works in a dystopian near-future world. He lives in an old, fire-damaged church (rather brilliantly sleeping amidst organ pipes) and he works an absurd number-crunching job (involving cycling) for a mysterious 'management'. He hates having to go into work because he is equally lonesome there - despite the very annoying but sometimes hilarious supervisor character played by David Thewlis (channeling Michael Palin) - and because he might miss a phone call he's waited for his entire life. You see, Qohen is almost crippled by existential angst. He tends towards nihilism but once had a phone call that felt so transcendental and made him so certain that he was about to be told the meaning of life that he dropped the receiver - and has waited his whole life to be called back. 

After meeting 'Management' at one of the supervisor's parties (Matt Damon rather brilliantly always matching his background, and looking disconcertingly like Philip Seymour Hoffman), Qohen eventually gets his wish and is set up to work from home on 'The Zero Theorem'. He doesn't really care what he's working on, but the number-crunching doesn't work very well and he gets increasingly stressed in his attempts to make mathematics show that 0 = 100%. A girl he also met at the party enters his life (seductive Mélanie Thierry) and he takes courses with a simulated psychiatrist (Tilda Swinton channeling Emma Thompson, but succeeding very amusingly) and though sceptical and fearful at first, he begins to open up to her. 

The film really picks up when Management's arrogant, vulgar yet vulnerable teenage son Bob enters the picture (Lucas Hedges). Prior to this, everyone is very weird, including both the main couple, and as a result the whole thing feels at arm's length. Bob is the Han Solo in Star Wars - the dissenting, cynical, indifferent voice that makes the ridiculous things in the film seem more acceptable. He tells Qohen that like everyone else in his world, he's just a tool for Management to use, explains what the nihilistic Zero Theorem is and that his girlfriend is 'paid by the hour'. It is the influence of youth - with its mixture of idealism and sarcasm - rather than the promise of love that spurs Qohen into real action, especially when the ideal of love goes sour. 

The film's ending leaves numerous loose ends and a strange, artificial, internalised satisfaction for Qohen in a brutally futile world, which felt less profound - which I think was the idea - and more poorly thought-through. This and the very slow start ultimately mean that while the film is well worth seeing - especially for Gilliam fans - it's not even close to one of his best. 

300: Rise of an Empire

There was a certain something to the original 300. It had a ridiculous amount of style, getting the success it managed through a striking and unique visual style and the sheer fun of its simple, hypermasculine design and fast pacing. It told a time-honoured story of a grand last stand in a direct and supremely enjoyable manner. 

So there was plenty of opportunity for Rise of an Empire to be good, despite not really being needed. There is, after all, a whole more good story to tell. The elements that come from Greek history are compelling - a victory at sea over vastly greater numbers; the alliance of the squabbling city-states; and of course, Artemesia, one of the most interesting and powerful women the ancient world can give us. The great tragedy of Rise of an Empire is that it makes one of the most fascinating clashes of history dull. Dull in terms of storytelling, dull in terms of presentation and dull in terms of pacing. 

Our story is of the larger conflict between Greece and Persia that led to Leonidas' death. It starts with the battle of Marathon, where many fanciful elements are added - Darius I himself comes to the battle and dies to an arrow shot by Thermistocles, steeling the young Xerxes to not only invade Greece again later, but to become the outlandish god-king we saw in the original. As the second invasion looms, Thermistocles goes about Greece attempting to unite the city-states, with limited success. Some sea skirmishes introduce the soldiers to Artemesia, here not a shrewd queen betting on what she thinks is the winning side, but given a ridiculous angsty backstory as a young Greek girl whose parents are for some reason raped and killed by hoplites, who then tie her up as a sex slave and eventually dump her somewhere to die, whereupon a Persian ambassador picks her up and gives her a new life - which of course allows her to become a master of the sword and rise up the ranks to become this film's posturing femme fatale. She delegates men to do her bidding and kills them when she fails, commands stupid anachronous oil tankers and seduces the upstanding Thermistocles. Eventually her plots allow victory over the smaller forces of the Greeks (effectively the film's Artemesium) and facilitated the capture of Athens. What follows is the battle of Salamis, here framed less by disaster for overcrowded Persian forces and more as a last stand averted by the intervention of other allies, particularly Spartans - which I have to say is one of the better storytelling decisions. The film leaves open the possibility of a third film, though presumably for a satisfying final part they'll need to alter Xerxes' story to have him stay rather than withdraw with the satisfaction of having taken Athens (on Artemesia's advice). On the other hand, it will be interesting to see how they deal with Thermistocles' defection and persecution at the hands of the Spartans, given how noble he is here and how he doesn't rely on lies as he did in the versions from antiquity. 

None of this damns the film - what does is how deeply ordinary it is, compared with its predecessor. Gone is the striking look of the piece, all saturated earth tones. Gone the outlandish extremity of the Spartans, replaced by the much more relateable Athenians. The inventive and bizarre combat is replaced by by-the-numbers Hollywood action sequences with daft Mortal Kombat blood gushing everywhere in very juvenile schlock. Both Thermistocles and Artemesia are dull cliches, which Leonidas actually managed to avoid, and the attempt at a human element that comes from a father-son pair of soldiers is just horribly tacked-on and shallow. 

This is some of the finest storytelling material in history, and even worse, I don't mind that it is not the best script in the world. What stings is that this is a property needs to look and feel unlike everything else, and have some brilliance to its comic-book presentation and it fell well short of that. Disappointing. 

The Book Thief

I'll be clear, though it almost goes without saying - The Book Thief is a beautifully-made film. The sets and costumes are of the highest quality, the cutting and cinematography is inventive and well-judged, the music is up to Williams' usual high standards and the acting is superb. Geoffrey Rush and Emily Watson are two actors who can do an incredible amount with very little, and act extremely well with silence. The film is in every aspect extremely well-made. 

Yet...I found the film almost entirely soulless. It felt like a book club exercise rather than a sincere exploration of a lesser-seen side of WWII - the perspective of ordinary German citizens. I'm quite glad to see that this is a view shared by a number of prominent reviewers, the film ultimately having very mixed reviews, because to an extent it was confirmation bias - I avoided the book when it became successful because it struck me as a somewhat exploitative easy-mode way of writing for young adults. Write about WWII and a Jew in hiding and all the emotions are already in place: you don't need to think of ways to move an audience or win their sympathies, as it all comes as part of the collective memorialisation culture - as historians have it. 

There are some very beautiful moments that I would consider inspired: the family snowfight in the basement is beautiful, and I very much enjoyed how Hans first gains a modicum of trust from Liesel by calling her 'Your Majesty' with that grim face of his. But by and large there was far too much of the clinical writing-group approach to this. It felt like a list of characters was drawn up and personality traits were listed. Sharp-tongued woman with a heart of gold. Football-loving Aryan kid whose instant and bizarrely forward way of flirting never rings true for a single second. All the sympathetic characters hate Hitler, of course, forced into party rallies, while the ones who seem pro-party are either robotic stormtroopers or the oddly skinny school bully. The burgermeister's wife's story in particular feels like it was started but left hanging - she is established as craving the love of a child because she has lost her son, but the whole thing gets aborted. 

Indeed, there are a lot of things that feel incomplete, and not in a way that suggests an attempt at a realistic world-view in which stories are not neat and tidy, but in one that suggests a rather superficial approach. Liesel thinks of her mother often, but largely gives her up and never mentions her again save when her memory is jogged once. We're expected to feel hopeless as various characters go to situations they're very unlikely to survive, and yet they do, coming home to great happiness and relief and yet no real narrative weight because we don't know what happened to them. And then there's the ending, which could be seen as stark and harrowing but comes over as the writer just running out of ideas. 

I also did not enjoy the conceit of having Death narrate. Not only was it very cheesy, it took realism a few steps further away, and realism is extremely necessary for this kind of story. Similarly, the theme of stealing books, while of course central to the story - being the title and all - it was pushed somewhat too far, and turned into the very unfortunate 'and so this character, being taught to think like a writer because after being coached to come up with some lame-duck similes, grew up to be a famous writer' denouement, which is always going to be awkward. 

Terribly worthy, somewhat overlong and no doubt well-meaning, this didn't have the sincerity or weight of the best war films, and ultimately comes over as less of an exploration of one of the most dramatic and terrible periods of a country's history and more of an attempt to use cultural feelings about that period to sell media.