One building, one million stories

I arrived in New York a week ago in order to attend the prestigious Tribeca Film Festival. Oddly most of the screenings I wanted to go were not in Tribeca neighbourhood, but in Chelsea instead. I soon remembered the Chelsea Hotel and all the legendary people who once lived there and I started wondering to myself where the building might be.

So I asked the Festival staff where iconic hotel is. “It’s just outside to your right”. “What do you mean? On the same block?” “Yes.” So I went outside and I was petrified by what I saw. I had literally passed through a passage on the sidewalk that was covering the entrance of the hotel and I didn’t realise it was Chelsea Hotel. The sign was not lit. Dozens of workers were getting in and out carrying paint and wires. Was this the same place where Arthur C. Clarke wrote 2001: A Space Odissey? It couldn’t be true.

I tried to get in and take photos inside but there was a sign in the lobby: “No pictures”. I asked the porter if I could take a picture of the sign that says “No pictures” and that wasn’t possible, either. Oh, well, then Chelsea Hotel, which originally opened in 1885, is just an abandoned museum locked away from trespassers, I thought.

So I went away and did some research, and I found out that the hotel has been undergoing major restoration for more than five years. Two companies had abandoned the works due to all sorts of challenges, from legal to structural. The tenants sued the hotel developer Joe Chetrit in 2011, because he shut down water and electricity. Now BD Hotels Group bought the hotel and it’s being converted into luxury accommodation. They were knocking down walls, this is a major and complete revamp.

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The Chelsea Hotel doesn’t look particularly iconic and glamorous right now.

One hotel, many films

I thought of all the artists – filmmakers, musicians, etc, that had created some of their finest pieces at the Chelsea Hotel. I thought particularly of the films that we’ve written about on DMovies in the past 15 months. First I thought of Mapplethorpe: Look at the Pictures (Fenton Bailey/Randy Barbato): this is where the late photographer lived with Patti Smith. They didn’t have any money to pay the rent, but Smith convinced the owner Stanley that it would be a temporary stay. They paid only $55 a week for the rent In 1969. Mapplethorpe took his first photographs in their flat. – here for our review of the movie.

I remembered Shirley Clarke collaborating with Sam Shepard, who has recently worked in Midnight Special (Jeff Nichols, 2016). Clarke lived in the penthouse. She filmed junkies waiting for their drug dealer The Connection (1961) and she shot the very controversial doc about Jason Holliday, called Portrait of Jason in 1967. The documentary Jason and Shirley (Stephen Winter, 2016) reveals how Shirley manipulated Jason in order to create a grotesque circus of homophobia and racism around him – click here for our review of Winter’s outstanding doc.

I wanted to know what happened to the room in which Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungen lived their last days – click here for our review of the biopic Sad Vacation: The Last Days of Sid and Nancy (Danny Garcia, 2016). The Chelsea Hotel porter told me the room in the first floor was shut forever (I soon found out that this wasn’t true; but just hang on for now). The stairs that led to the first floor were blocked for many years because people used to come around and leave flowers at the front door (now this is very true).

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There is no plaque marking the room where Sid and Nancy spent their last days, and it was thanks to a serendipitous resident that Maysa snapped this.

A pooch’s poo opens doors

The following day I came back to pay homage to the Chelsea Hotel from outside. I had almost given up taking pictures and writing about the hotel, when suddenly a nice young lady came out of the building with her pooch. The creature stopped just beside me and emptied its bowels.

Maybe Biggie, the dog, thought I was Divine in John Waters’ 1972 classic Pink Flamingos. It’s true that earlier in the same day a man believed I was a drag queen (I’m the one pictured at the top of the article, so you can decide that yourself). But eating dog shit is a no-go for me. Instead I started talking to the lady, whose name is Man-Laï. She invited me to her flat, room 111, which is on the same floor as Sid Vicious’s room. And being in the company of a resident, I was finally allowed to take pictures. She pointed the famous room to me and I quickly snapped the picture above. She told me that an architect now lives there. Some time ago, a classic piano player used to wake her up playing Debussy. That’s very different from a punk riff.

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Maysa photographs Man-Laï in the comfort of her own flat, while she shares film anecdotes of the past.

Mingling with the resident

Man-Laï has been living in the Chelsea Hotel for many years. She raised her twin daughters as a single mom there. Her first room was where Jim Morrison lived. She doesn’t think that the Chelsea Hotel is a weird place. “It is home!”

She shows me the balcony and shares some precious information. “You know, I could see the shooting of House of D. (David Duchovny, 2004) with Robin Williams from my balcony. And last year, Olivia Wilde was here.” She played the role of Devon Finestra in the TV series Vinyl for HBO.

It seems even during the restoration, the Chelsea Hotel continues to inspire filmmakers. Man-Laï also remembers how crowded the lobby was when Natalie Portman played a 12-year-old New York girl in Leon: The Professional (Luc Besson, 1994). The shooting lasted two weeks.

She shows me all books about the Chelsea Hotel she keeps as close as a Bible to a Christian. Chelsea Hotel is her home, even though right now it is a old building full of cracks. “I saw a dead body once here. The men fell from the tenth floor. They wouldn’t allow me to get into my flat. The elevator was blocked, but I said it was my home. I had to jump over the dead body.”

Heal the Living (Réparer les Vivants)

The hospital theatre is intended to be entirely decontaminated. Yet the most profound human emotions are within every particle floating in the air. Particularly if you are a mother of two having a life-saving transplant, following the tragic death of a young man, roughly the same age as very own offspring. Ivory Coast-born filmmaker Katell Quillévéré adapts Maylis de Kerangal’s Booker Prize–longlisted eponymous novel and manages to evoke the most profound sentiments in a an environment that is, quite literally, surgically sterile.

Heal the Living tells the story of a 19-year old Simon (Gabin Verdet), who suffers a car accident in a morning after surfing, leaving him braindead. Meanwhile a woman (Anne Dorval) waits to see whether she will be given a new chance of life. Her cardiac condition is so advanced that she’s unable to support her children in the most trivial tasks, and unless she can find an organ donor, her end if clearly eminent. The film director travels back and forth in time intertwining the two tragic stories, which culminate in a heart transplant.

The movie opens up with Simon and his friends surfing during morning twilight. The photography is dark and slow-motion, and the sequence is followed by very symbolic images: cars, windmills at sea and a bridge. Everything represents motion. Life must go on, even if an artificial intervention is required. If humans can place giant aeolian turbines right in the middle of the sea, and build sturdy bridges to be crossed by cars that can move on their own, then there is nothing preventing us from moving a human heart from a brain-dead body to a living one, thereby giving someone a new lease of life.

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A living Simon with his girlfriend, enjoying life.

Heal the Living is a complex kaleidoscope of stories and sentiments. The dialogue is sparse but not laconic. The soundtrack – a combination of a piano soundscore, indie music and David Bowie – is pervasive but not invasive. The performances are astute and moving. Anne Dorval communicates a lot with her eyes. Everything is in the right measure. There’s just enough graphic realism (a drill, an electric saw, etc in operating theatre), without ever being exploitative. This is a film that will bring tear to your eyes, give you heart palpitations, but it won’t make your stomach churn. You will watch the scalpel blade cut through the body, and yet you won’t feel any pain. You will be anaesthetised by a large dose of humanity and compassion injected directly inside your heart.

The message within the film is bright as daylight: organ donation saves lives. Even the film title is imperative: heal the living! So let’s save some lives. In case you haven’t done it yet, click here in order to register with the NHS organ donor register, or here to promote awareness of organ donation and transplants. I have already done it. What are you waiting for? Life is full of unexpected twists and – knock on wood – you may not wake up to see the sun rise tomorrow, just like Simon never did. But you can help someone else do. This is not Hallmark card sentimentality. This is pragmatism.

Heal the Living is showing is out in cinemas across the UK from Friday, April 28th.

Handsome Devil

Ireland is a fast-changing nation. The profoundly Catholic country was the first one in the world to legalise gay marriage by the means of popular vote, despite fierce opposition from the Church. The society has suddenly come out of the closet, and cinema is keeping the closet doors open so that no one is left inside.

But gay marriage isn’t the only issue that matters to LGBT people. Handsome Devil touches is a very touching and moving gay drama, urgent in its simplicity, delving with two woes that remain pandemic: gay bullying in schools and LGBT representation in sports – the latter is often described as the last and most resilient stronghold of homophobia. The movie succeeds to expose both problems and the destructive consequences for the afflicted with a very gentle and effective approach.

Puny and nerdish Ned (Fionn O’Shea) and handsome sportsman Conor are forced to share a bedroom at their boarding school. Conor is strangely lonely and introspective, despite his looks and the popularity that the sports bestow upon him. He slowly begins to mingle with Ned, with whom the shares a taste for music. Their bond is then tested by the school authorities, with only the teacher Dan Sherry (Andrew Scott) supporting their friendship and musical affinity. Ned, Conor and Sherry are accomplices of each other’s sexuality.

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Partly narrated by the unabashed and unrepentant Ned, as if he was recollecting a dark chapter of his life and of his country’s history, Handsome Devil contrasts the grotesque masculinity often associated with rugby against the alleged artistic sensitivity of homosexuals. Of course the equations “straight = sports” and “gay = arts” are not accurate. Instead they have been pushed upon us in attempt balkanise and stigmatise people with diverse sexualities. Thankfully Ireland is now moulting its old layers of homophobia, and these equations are set to fall off with so many other prejudices.

The climax of the film towards the end is very powerful, and it’s guaranteed to bring you tears. It’s a turning point in the film, just like the gay marriage referendum in the country. In fact, this sequence is akin to the referendum in more than one way: it forces the film characters to cast a vote, just like Irish citizens did in 2015. Top it all up with Rufus Wainwright’s heartfelt wailing. This is the perfect gay tearjerker, without ever being corny and vulgar. This is a noble film about strong and noble characters.

Little note: this is not a film about sex, instead it’s a movie focused entirely on sexuality and lifestyle choices attached. There are no picante sequences, which may come as a disappointment to those who would like to have their libido tickled.

Handsome Devil is out in selected cinemas across the UK and Ireland on Friday April 28th (2017). on Disney + UK on Friday, July 29th. Also available on other platforms.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2

For those who never saw their less impressive first film, the eponymous Guardians are a rag-tag of space travelling mercenaries often on the wrong side of the law. Rocket (a raccoon voiced by Bradley Cooper) has an unfortunate habit of insulting the wrong person at the wrong time. Peter Quill / Star-Lord (Chris Pratt) is a problem solver and adventurer, Gamora (Zoe Saldana) an agile fighter. The group also includes strong man Drax (Dave Bautista), from a race who take everything literally, and cute, walking baby tree-being Groot (voice: Vin Diesel). Welcome to Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2.

Clever and efficient story construction ensures that many different narrative strands are deftly balanced with several intertwined plots in play. Romantically involved with an Earthwoman in the 1980s, Ego (Kurt Russell) is an alien who seeds and cultivates mysterious plants on the planets he visits and is searching for his long-lost son Quill. A genetically engineered race called the Sovereign hire our heroes to protect their precious supply of batteries until Rocket steals some, at which point they send assorted armadas and later a gang of mercenaries led by blue-skinned Yondu (Michael Rooker) after them. And so on.

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Unusual elements fire off in every direction in this surprisingly innovative Marvel feature.

Leaving aside the plot, the space opera special effects are peerless and, seen on a huge screen in 3D, spectacular. All of which might be reason enough for the comic’s fans or even your average popcorn moviegoer to see it, if not for those of us who like our cinema on the more subversive side.

Where the film really scores though is in the spaces in between and around the franchising, the plot and the special effects which allow it room to breathe, play and get dirty. Take the very early scene in which the Guardians protect the Sovereign’s world from a marauding, tentacled maw. We’ve seen scenes like this before and they’ve become boring. This film knows that and shows much of the fight scene out of focus in the background or off to the side while in focus in the foreground baby Groot plugs in a sound system and dances to music as the mayhem rages.

Baby Groot will later fail several times to retrieve a simply described object from a sleeping jailer that would allow those who requested it to escape imprisonment and certain death. He keeps returning with various incorrect items. And later still, a lengthy sequence is constructed around baby Groot’s being assigned to press one of two buttons on a detonator, one of which would prove lethal. Infused with the spirit of gag cartoons or burlesque comedy, there’s something wonderfully subversive about all this.

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Some of the superheros from the surprising Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2.

Thus you have another scene where the action stops for Quill to insist that Gamora has an “unspoken thing” for him and dance with her on a balcony. Or a fight sequence where Yondu’s one foot long spear weaves a non-linear trajectory through the air as it takes out a plethora of enemy mercenaries by fatally piercing them one by one. Or an antagonistic character as complex as Gamora’s supposedly villainous sister Nebula (Karen Gillan) who may or may not be trustworthy. Or the iconic Kurt Russell clearly relishing his pivotal role. Or an entire sequence detailing a character’s funeral.

A big budget blockbuster this may be, but unexpected, additional elements constantly fire off in interesting directions without ever compromising form, narrative or visuals. The whole thing is efficiently scripted Hollywood eye candy with grime lovingly rubbed into its very fabric from the bottom up to turn it into something far dirtier and altogether more compelling.

Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol. 2 is out in showing in cinemas across the UK from Friday, April 28th. Get a feel for the movie by watching the trailer below. Then close your eyes and picture it in 3D.

The Public Image is Rotten

Johnny Rotten is a provocateur. We never know whether he is acting or talking from the heart. He recently described Nigel Farage as “fantastic” and insisted that US President Donald Trump was not racist. Those statements are very different from what he said a year ago. Johnny Rotten, whose real name is John Lydon, is constantly mocking the power of media. The name of his band PIL – Public Image Limited – reveals what’s inside his mind, more than his words. He gave a rock/punk/experimental reggae band a company name. The Public Image Is Rotten documents Lydon’s ideological career post-Sex Pistols. In synthesis, it means “art is not for sale”.

Filmmaker Tabbert Fiiller has worked together with Lydon for four and a half years in order to tell the story of one of the most influential lead singers of all times. Shortly after the Sex Pistols broke up, Lydon travelled to Jamaica. He was in search of who he could become as an artist on his own. But the truth is that John Lydon can never be a solo artist.

The documentary mentions PIL’s first concert in Brussels in 1978. It tells about the many problems John had because there wasn’t enough money to pay for the musicians. Some of his collaborators sampled some PIL’s songs in their own records. Fiiller shows statements and recollections from the past and current band members in order to fill in the gaps and add their own perspectives.

The camera captures a powerful personality through the years. John can face the public that spits on him while he is performing on stage. He is able to deal with an incredible amount of negativity from the media. He reveals how he became a more mature man when the daughter of his ex-wife moved to their house. But he can’t cope with death. Maybe he is right when he says: “I am soft as butter” (in reference to the dairy stint on television).

During the first screening of The Public Image Is Rotten at Tribeca Film Festival, John gives credit to all people who worked on the film individually. He shares his success with his friends. For him, this is what friends are for. “You put up with their mistakes because you accept them for what they are”.

The documentary is as vital as Johnny Rotten himself. It pulses with creativity and truth. It shows how Lydon has never recovered from a childhood trauma: the occasion in which he lost his memory. For sure, all his life was a search for who he really is. And PIL was his answer. “PIL is how I found myself again”, Lydon declares.

PIL influenced Beastie Boys, Moby and Sonic Youth. It challenged the design industry with Metal Box, an album that came inside a metal box, literally. PIL is a reinvention of punk: in Metal Box there is an 11-minute song, “Albatross”, something unimaginable for a punk band. The release of The Public Image Is Rotten can lead to a revolution in music. It should inspire young musicians to follow a more personal and authentic road, away from X Factor and The Voice.

The Public Image Is Rotten premiered this week at Tribeca Film Festival earlier this year, when this piece was originally written. The film is showing in September as part of the Raindance Film Festival of London.

Earlier this year, DMovies interviewed Jason Williamson of the ferociously anti-establishment British band Sleaford Mods and asked him what he made of Johnny’s comments on Farage and Trump. He thinks that Johnny is infested with a very toxic substance. Click here and find out what that is!

Bombshell: The Hedy Lamarr Story

She was just 18, and she was the first woman who simulated an orgasm in cinema. Hedy Lamarr could have stopped her career soon after she appeared in the film Ecstasy (Machaty, 1933), but she didn’t. The feature contains nudity. What a bold woman! Beautiful and enigmatic face. But she wanted more than a quick and fake pleasure. She wanted to be recognised as a clever woman. So she devised a secret communication system to help the Allies to beat the Nazis. Bombshell: The Hedy Lamarr Story is a historical doc that inspires us not to be defined by the labels that other people stick on us without asking.

After the success of her debut film, she realised it would be hard to continue living in Austria. In 1937, she transferred to London and found an American film agent who took her to Hollywood. There the US press allowed her to be beautiful. In the US, she lived a tough life. She was a slave to her looks. She had six husbands and an adopted son who she abandoned years later. Her dalliances included Howard Hughes and John F. Kennedy. Hughes shared with her a love for science but according to her he was the worst lover she has ever had. Hughes represented all she could get in life. She had the benefit of beauty, she attracted wealthy and remarkable men but she would have to conceal that she was intelligent too.

Bombshell: The Hedy Lamarr Story is based on the tapes of an interview Lamarr gave to Forbes 25 years ago. The Austrian Jewish émigré revealed how she became a Hollywood tragedy. By the age of 75, she had to cope with the consequences of several blotched plastic surgeries. She was retired and reclusive. She declared: “Any girl can be glamorous; all you have to do is stand still and look stupid”.

Struggling hard to escape the Hollywood label, Hedy invented a system of communication which became a constituent part of wi-fi, Bluetooth and GPS technologies. She thought that the only possible way the Allies could send messages without been intercepted by the Germans was if they changed radio frequencies multiple times. Hedy worked with a pianist that helped her to build a box to communicate. Lamarr gave her patent to the US Navy, received no credit for her invention and lived in poverty in her final years.

The film was produced by Susan Sarandon. Her signature guarantees that the documentary dodges narrow definitions of women. It is never boring and it is in search for extraordinary role models. Sarandon explains that “growing old is not for sissies”. Lamarr is the perfect example of how destructive ageism and strict beauty requirements can be. Her pictures as an old woman are quite terrifying. In fact, she lost the traces she once had. When she was young she was the model for Disney Snow White. At 75, Lamarr looked like the Queen of Evil, instead, as she longed for the long-lost youth and looks.

Bombshell: The Hedy Lamarr Story showed is at Tribeca Film Festival in April, when this piece was originally written. It is out in cinemas on Friday, March 9th 2018.

This film is in our top 10 dirtiest films of 2017.

Chief Kunstable Jason Williamson talks dirty

Last Friday saw the theatrical release of Christine Franz’s Bunch of Kunst, a doc following footsteps of the Sleaford Mods as they conduct their daily lives and prepare for their concerts. The Nottingham duo, formed by vocalist Jason Williamson and musician Andrew Fearn since 2012, convey a message of working-class disaffection and hopelessness without pandering to bigoted resentment and nationalism. Their music, which is often described as brutal and minimalistic, have a profound social and political message.

So we decided to ask Chief Kunstable Jason Williamson a few dirty questions. He talks to us about the film, how he makes music, what it means to be big, Johnny Rotten and what people should be doing on June 8th!

Victor Fraga – The documentary Bunch of Kunst has just been released. Can you please tell us a little bit where the idea to make the film came from, and how long did it take to make it?

Jason Williamson – It was the pipe dream of Christine Franz, a German woman who we met when being filmed for Arte TV. She proposed the idea and we agreed. It took about two years.

VF – In the doc, you describe the creative process for your music. It seems to be quite fluid and organic, devoid of strict formal rules. What is it that makes you different from other bands? Is there something particular during the creative process?

JW – We stand out because most bands have been genetically produced by record labels. They are young too, which these days is a big problem. They have no fight really, especially in music. There’s also the class war that’s been raging so anybody dipped in street music, anybody from the lower classes is finding it hard to break through, however, as I’ve said, most aren’t too interesting. Grime had a good vehicle, but even that’s being rung in. There’s nothing unique about our writing process, we just have a strong formula.

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Jason Williamson and Shona McWilliams in Andrew Tiernan’s UK18.

VF – Also in the doc, you say that “you have no idea what it means to be big”, but now you have toured many European countries, played at the O2 arena and so on. Didn’t that feel “big” at all? How was that different from playing in smaller clubs?

JW – Big to me means, stadium bands, I guess. But it’s also a state of mind. If you think you are Elvis then you are gunna have problems. It’s a job, a good one admittedly, but a job all the same.

VF – Your lyrics are extremely socially and politically engaged, a powerful statement against consumerism, capitalism and so on. Yet we face the prospect of an increasingly right-wing government, with a strict neoliberal austerity agenda. Should people go out on June 8th and vote in a bid to prevent this from happening?

JW You have to vote for some kind of reason. Labour as shabby as they can sometimes seem are the only option. I’m not happy about party politics, but it’s no fucking good playing the defiant/anarchist card whilst people get fucked over. It’s a system that in our lifetime will not go away. Exist in it. Help where you can. Learn. Our music will carry the experience of this time for as long as we are together.

VF – You are currently perceived as one of the most ferociously anti-establishment bands in the UK right now. How do you feel about the fact that one of the supposedly most anti-establishment voices in the country Johnny Rotten has recently endorsed Trump, Farage and Brexit? Did he get it all wrong or is he fooling us all?

JW – He smokes too many ciggies and is infested with ego!

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Jason Williamson in the setting of #LostDogFilm.

VF – You are a friend of the British actor and director Andrew Tiernan, and you appear in his latest film UK18, a nightmare sci-fi about extreme surveillance. Can you please tell us how this happened? Do you intend to engage in other politically and socially-engaged cinema projects?

JW – Me and Andrew Tiernan met a couple of years ago at a show and he was also partly responsible for the documentary Invisible Britain [Paul Sng/ Nathan Hannawin, 2015] which came out around the same time. I’ve always admired his acting and what he does with his characters, he’s a proper good actor with history. I’ve always been interested in acting and we got talking about it and that’s how it arose. I’ve worked on two film pieces so far: #LostDogFilm and UK18 [both by Andrew Tiernan].

VF – How can music and cinema work together as a voice against reactionary forces?

JW – They can work together by pasting actual reality onto screens.

VF – What’s your recommendation for aspiring artists in the music industry who want to make a powerful social and political statement through their art?

JW – Be themselves. Live a little. Go out of your own town. Move about. Get into trouble. And… see things!!!

The Promise

A lot of money, clichés, subliminal messages and very poor filmmaking, that’s probably the best way to sum up the not-so-promising The Promise. This Hollywood production, which cost a nine-figure sum, tries to infuse a little bit of everything in its 122 minutes: the heroism of Mel Gibson’s Braveheart (1995) the colours and the settings of a Disney movie, the adrenaline of Indiana Jones (with train top chase et al), the horrors of Schindler’s List (Steven Spielberg, 1993), the epic journey of Elias Kazan’s America America (Elia Kazan, 1963), and… wait for this… even the “maritime depth” of James Cameron’s Titanic (1997) – I promise you will understand what I mean if you are unfortunate enough to watch this film to the end.

The Promise tries to be a little bit of everything, but it turns out to be nothing. Except for a wasted opportunity to remember one of the most murderous events in the history of mankind and to celebrate the resilience of Armenians. The film, which takes place in 1914-15, tells the story of talented medical student Michael (Oscar Isaac) and the gorgeous dance instructor Ana (Charlotte Le Bon), both of Armenian background. They become enamoured, leaving Ana’s boyfriend Chris Myers (Christian Bale) heartbroken, an American journalist working for associated press. Soon the Turks begin to carry out the systematic decimation of 1.5 million Armenians, rendering Michael’s and Ana’s extremely vulnerable and leaving Chris in a very difficult situation: should he denounce the atrocities to the international press, which could put his very own life at stake?

I am not disputing the ruthlessness of the Ottoman Empire and their sheer failure to recognise the Armenian genocide, one of the bloodiest and darkest chapters in recent history. I am simply saying that this film is not a suitable denunciation tool: it is cloaked in vested geopolitical interests and drowned in poor filmmaking. A cinematic damp squib.

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Guatemalan Oscar Issac is the Armenian protagonist Michael.

The film is entirely in English, except for the evil Germans who speak their own language. English with a bizarre supposedly Middle Eastern accent and the occasional broken English phrase is a perfect substitute for the Turkish and the Armenian languages. And casting a Guatemalan (Isaac) to play the Armenian lead is perfectly reasonable: brown people all look the same. The chemistry between the two protagonists is as effervescent as a Coca-Cola left open in your fridge for five days. There are enough glycerin tears to nourish the dry skin of a family of elephants (now you know that glycerin is an excellent skin moisturiser, and it’s a crime against common sense to squander it in ineffective tearjerkers such as The Promise).

The dramatic efficacy of the film is close to zero. You will not cry when the children cry, you will not feel a punch in the face when Michael gets punched in the face and you will not even feel uncomfortable when you see the forced labour camps and the piles of Armenian corpses. Is it because the horrors of such as genocide are just too graphic and disturbing for a mainstream audience, and therefore should be toned down and made more digestible? Just think Schindler’s List and you will soon realise that the answer is “no”. There is no reason why The Promise couldn’t have made a bigger attempt at realism.

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Christian Bale’s character is the portrait of kindness and solidarity.

The biggest problem with The Promise, which makes it only the third film in our 15-month history to be given just one-splat (our lowest possible rating), is the fact that the historicity and denunciation become entirely diluted in American propaganda. Michael ultimately dreams of reaching the US, in some sort of twisted American dream. His journey is remarkably similar to Stavros in Elia Kazan’s America America. Even the lead actors (Guatemalan Oscar Isaac and Greek Stathis Giallelis have an uncanny resemblance). Kazan was later accused of McCarthyism and blind American nationalism. Both films are about a foreigner who longs and fights to embrace the US.

But it gets worse. The American character is the epitome of altruism. He’s noble, principled and ready to commit the ultimate sacrifice in the name of justice not just once, but as many times as necessary. He will do anything in order to help Armenians. And as we all know, Americans only engage in wars in order to help the oppressed. Those American, their generosity knows no bounds! Yeah, right. Add to that the fact that Christian Bale is a staunch Republican voter and a friend of peace-loving Donald Trump.

Oh, there’s also an American Ambassador who help Christian Armenians DESPITE being a Jew. His faith does not interfere with his job, he makes it clear. Wow, isn’t this guy just amazing? Maybe not. The sheer manicheism of this film is simply insulting.

The Promise is out in cinemas across the UK, and certainly in a multiplex near you. We recommend that people of all affiliations, nationalities, races, colours and creeds avoid it.

The Strange Coalescence of Dirty Dancing and Blue Velvet

A YouTube user who posts content under the name Kaflickastan, crafted a re-edited promotional trailer for Dirty Dancing (Emile Ardolino, 1987) that re-imagined the film as a nightmarish noir directed by David Lynch (below). The trailer takes scenes from Dirty Dancing out of the original context and places them into a what looks like a perverse thriller that dispenses with the sweet coming-of-age romantic drama and replaces it with a sinister tale of obsession, violence, and lust.

Scenes from Dirty Dancing that are innocent suddenly take on a sinister and surreal edge. For example, when the Houseman family arrive at Kellerman’s resort they are greeted by the portly owner Max Kellerman, who reassures the family that their vacation will be relaxing and invigorating. Kellerman utters “three weeks here will feel like a year.” In the Kaflickastan’s trailer this reassurance suddenly becomes a veiled threat, similar to when Frank Booth the vile gangster in David Lynch’s Blue Velvet (1986) menacingly whispers “you’re fucking lucky to be alive” just before delivering a savage beating.

It’s my belief that Dirty Dancing shares more with Lynchian themes than it would first appear, and acts almost as a comparative piece to Blue Velvet. Lynch’s films often concern themselves with the loss of innocence of their characters and the corruption and darkness that lies under the veneer of the American Dream. This is most apparent in Blue Velvet, which is set in a suburban town, where white picket fences line the streets of the leafy well-to-do neighborhoods. It’s my view that these two films are cinematic bedfellows.

Frances. That’s a real grown up name

Dirty Dancing and Blue Velvet are accounts of childhood innocence lost in the transition from late adolescence to adulthood. The young protagonist of Blue Velvet is Jeffrey Beaumont (Kyle Maclachlan), a handsome college student who returns to his hometown of Lumberton when his father suffers a seizure. He is called upon to run the family store in his father’s absence. In essence, Jeffrey has returned to a state which he thought he had left behind: the dull and monotonous life of Lumberton. This is perhaps why Jeffrey wants to explore the dark underbelly of the town; to add a little excitement to his humdrum life.

Dirty Dancing‘s main protagonist, Frances ‘Baby’ Houseman (Jennifer Grey) has yet to break away from the confines of her family. She is certainly interested and engaged with the world and is even due to attend college after the summer to study economics; yet at the beginning of Dirty Dancing Frances seems content in her place as the family’s ‘Baby’. Frances and Jeffrey are eager to gain knowledge and experience beyond what has shaped their lives so far. Frances’ maturation follows a similar, yet obviously less devastating, trajectory to Jeffrey’s. Jeffrey wants to gain a set of experiences, ones that offer liberation from the norm.

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Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey get it on, in Dirty Dancing.

When he discovers a severed ear in the overgrown thicket of a vacant lot, his journey into a darker realm begins. He can’t help but uncover the mystery of the ear and delve into the hidden. Frances also uncovers something hidden. She stumbles into a room where men and women are jiving and gyrating against one another. It’s not only a unique experience for Frances, but it is one that sets in motion an entire new direction of her life. She is exposed to a form of dancing that also liberates her from the confines of conformity.

On the surface it may appear the two films do not share much more than that facet of youth and longing to grow out of the shadow of the parental units, but there is something more. Although contemporary in its setting, Blue Velvet is a union of the two distant eras; the early 1960s and the late 1980s. Dirty Dancing also occupies these eras. Laura Dern’s character, Sandy Williams, is adorned in 1950s-style dresses and bobby socks; she dresses like Frances Houseman older sister Lisa Houseman, whilst Jeffrey Beaumont offers a contemporary link with his pierced ear and modern clothing. The whole town of Lumberton is full of 1950s style diners, old cars, and girls next-door. Though set in 1963, Dirty Dancing also has lingering fragments of the late 1950s, the seismic generational shift has yet to wash the remnants away. However, Dirty Dancing‘s use of music in the soundtrack connects the time in which it is set to the time in which it was made, with the mix of bobby sox croons, raunchy 1960s rock ‘n’ roll and R&B with 1980s soft-rock ballads.

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A very energetic Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing.

Yes, That’s an ear

It is interesting that the ear stands as a catalyst for the breakaway both characters experience. Jeffrey finds a physically severed human ear in a thicket of grass whilst walking back home after visiting his father in hospital. This grim finding begins Jeffrey’s journey into small town crime, police corruption, and sexual exploitation. Frances finds no severed ear, thankfully, but her exposure to the dancing in the working class quarters is a visual as well as aural experience.

The rock ‘n’ roll music being blasted in the working-class staff quarters is more raucous and unruly than the cutesy pop records of the late 1950s and early 1960s that Frances and her family listen to on the car radio. These findings allow for both characters to traverse a path between their lives as respectable and obedient children and the lives they are forging for themselves without their parents’ involvement. Frances still plays the doting daughter to Dr. Houseman, whilst without her father’s knowledge, continues her sexual relationship with her lover, Johnny Castle (Patrick Swayze). Jeffrey continues to live with his adoring mother and aunt, and oversees the running of the family business, whilst engaging in sadomasochist sex with Dorothy Vallens (Isabella Rossellini), and investigating the criminal underworld of Lumberton.

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Still from Dirty Dancing.

Have you had many women?

Blue Velvet and Dirty Dancing are also about sexual experiences. In Blue Velvet Jeffrey chooses to encounter two partners. His first sweetheart, Sandy, is young and inexperienced (much like Frances), he doesn’t demand anything from her other than sweet companionship. On the other hand, Jeffrey’s other sweetheart, Dorothy is older, and far more knowledgeable about sex. She actively instigates the sexual relationship between herself and Jeffrey.

If we put Dirty Dancing‘s Johnny Castle in Jeffrey’s place for a moment we see that Johnny is also acquiring experience from two different women in almost the same manner as Jeffrey: the virginal Frances and the sultry older lady Vivian Pressman. Vivian is the trophy wife of the affluent Moe Pressman, a guest at the resort who pays Johnny to give his wife extra ‘dance lessons’, knowing that he is actually paying Johnny to sexually satisfy his wife. Vivian, in a act of revenge against Johnny, accuses him of stealing Moe Pressman’s wallet, which begins the revelations of Frances and Johnny’s relationship to everyone.

Through his own choice, Jeffrey descends into an ugly underworld of drug crime, rape, and murder that inhabits the peaceful town of Lumberton; his innocence is lost. The weird desires and fetishes of his elders are what lead Jeffrey towards his own manhood. Frances doesn’t descend as such; though she stoops from hanging with the affluent middle-class, to the bawdy working class, but actually she ascends to the working-class staff quarters where she encounters the sexualised dancing that was hidden from her. Like Jeffrey, she also makes a choice and actively participates and leads the seduction of Johnny Castle after being told by her father to stay away from him.

This leads to her break from the position she inhabits within her family. It also exposes the double standards of her father’s class beliefs that extend to the enforced class divisions of the Kellerman resort. Frances and Jeffrey begin with idealistic expectations of adulthood, which are broken down by an unrelenting adult reality. Jeffrey‘s exposure to the adult world is his lust for the seductive, but troubled, Dorothy and the violence he suffers at the hands of vile gangster Frank Booth. For Frances, it is her sexual attraction to Johnny, the over-nurturing of her father, the botched abortion of Johnny’s dance partner, Penny, and the generational shift of the 1960s.

Nobody puts Baby in a corner

The use of the pet name ‘Baby’ is also comparable. In Dirty Dancing, Frances is ‘Baby’ for many reasons: she is the youngest child in the Houseman family and her experience is limited in the adult world. In Blue Velvet, Frank Booth reverts to his ‘Baby’ as a means to achieve some sort of sexual release, which brings him very little actual pleasure. Frank wishes to return back to his innocence and to the arms of his ‘mommy’. When he screams at Dorothy “Baby wants to fuck,” he is intentionally breaking that innocence. Frank then morphs into ‘daddy’, an aggressive violator and abuser. Frances doesn’t at any point in Dirty Dancing say she “wants to fuck” in the same obvious terms (in fact, hearing Frances bark in the same manner as Frank would create a very different film altogether), but with her instigation in the seduction of Johnny Castle she also intentionally breaks her own innocence; she is no longer a ‘baby’.

Dirty Dancing is more than a simple story of sweet romance and sexualised dancing. The film explores the loss of innocence; not just that of its characters, but also the loss of innocence that America in the 1960s would experience in the near future. The film has some serious themes working under its flaying skirt: class politics, the failings of liberalism in 1960s’ America and beyond, abortion, courting and sex out of wedlock, the collapse of the family unit, and all this set against a generational shift that was imminent at the time the film was set. If we suspend belief for a moment and consider that David Lynch had been given the opportunity to direct Dirty Dancing, as imagined in the re-edited YouTube trailer, the swearing might have been astronomical, but there’s a possibility that the film would not have turned out all that different in his hands.

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Illustration by Rebecca Carter, at The Write Signs.

The text above is an edited excerpt from Steve Naish latest book ‘Deconstructing Dirty Dancing’, published by Zero Books on April April 28th, 2017. You can buy the paperback or the e-book on Amazon, Bound or Indiebound by clicking here.

Machines

Next time you walk by Camden Market and purchase a colourful saree handmade in India, please don’t fill your heart with altruistic joy. You are not helping a poor Indian artisan, and you are not supporting the immigrant who sold it to you either. Instead you are perpetuating an unscrupulous industry. Camden is at the bottom of the value chain of a deeply exploitative system. Machines investigates the human cost of mass production in our globalised world.

In a long opening sequence without dialogue, documentarist Raul Jain, who was born in New Delhi and raised in the Himalayas, rescues beautiful images from a textile factory in Gujarat (India’s westernmost state) which closely resembles hell. Men and machines are dirty, grey and black, in contrast to the white garments that they produce. The labourers are stern and silent, and they never sing at work. They work, work and work for just U$3 per shift. A shift is 12 hours long and without break. They don’t wear helmets and gloves despite the hazardous chemicals. Virtually nobody is unionised. They have no holidays and bonus. So you wonder if those men ever get angry and rebel against their bosses.

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The answer comes in their own voices: “I come here at free will. It’s no exploitation”, says one of them. Indeed, since the 1960s, India has seen unprecedented, unregulated industrialisation. Children and adolescents are amongst the workers. Some of them are so exhausted that they fall asleep while using the machines. “You must learn how to work when you’re young”, declares a scrawny little boy.

The cinematography of the movie is delightful, which was a conscious decision: “There is something that you can’t ignore about beauty. Forcing yourself to find beauty in that which disturbs you can be a good impetus for making films”. Such touching-up makes the film more palatable yet less thought-provoking.

The documentary explores origins and class/caste through the way Rahul engages with the factory workers, many of which are migrants. Some are allowed to share their experiences with the filmmaker, while some ask for help and others just cower in silence. The type of interaction is established by their origin and class/caste.

Machines is an invitation to rethink your concept of work. Next time you plan your annual holiday or contemplate switching jobs, remember the men and machines in Gujarat. Then search your wardrobe and check if there is any shirt made in India. Are you an accomplice of the moneymaking machine?

This piece was originally written when the film was shown as part of Frames of Representation, a festival showcasing the significance of working and its contemporary political and social function across the globe. Machines is out nationwide on May 19th.

Say NO to extreme surveillance!!!

Do you think that we live in a democracy? Think again. It’s 2018, and neoliberalism is steadily morphing into neofacism. The UK is sleepwalking into a totalitarian regime. Extreme surveillance has already been introduced in the shape of apparently harmless RFID tags, and 75% of population already use them. People have become another trackable item in a gigantic Internet of Things. And that’s not all.

This is more or less Andrew Tiernan’s vision of what the UK under extreme surveillance would look like. His terrifying sci-fi flick UK18 shook those who attended the screening last night at the Regent Street Cinema. This highly audacious and low-budget movie makes an unequivocal statement against the ugly surveillance developments already taking place in the UK right now. This is an urgent piece of filmmaking, which everyone should see.

Sadly Andrew Tiernan’s film could be frighteningly prescient. The highly controversial Investigatory Powers Act was passed last November with barely any objections from the political establishment, and very limited exposure in the media. The UK government now has unprecedented powers to snoop on our Internet history. Edward Snowden tweeted: “The UK has just legalised the most extreme surveillance in the history of western democracy. It goes further than many autocracies”. We are quickly turning into an Orwellian society.

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Still from Andrew Tiernan’s UK18.

Now Theresa May wants to withdraw the UK from the European Convention of Human Rights, which would give her carte blanche to implement the most draconian measures imaginable, without any regards to human rights and civil liberties. The only country ever to abandon the Convention was Belarus, often described as the last dictatorship in Europe.

The screening was followed by a very exciting debate with Andrew Tiernan, the actress Shona McWilliams, the street artist Mark McGowan (aka Artist Taxi Driver), the artist Nick Reynolds and the researcher/ writer Wayne Anthony (author of the book Class of ’88). They urged people to stand up and resist the current government, and agreed that voting at the next general elections on June 8th is key to that. Mark delivered a particularly passionate speech against “Brexshit” and the racism attached.

Below are pictures from the lounge, the cinema, the Q&A and the drinks afterwards!