Trailer for Anton Corbijn’s new movie ‘The American’, starring George Clooney as a hitman who wants out. Corbijn has been blogging about the film and posting (obviously stunning) stills from the set. The American is out September 1st.
In 1981 I was 18 years old and a big fan of Paul Newman. Fandom in those days wasn’t as concentrated as it is now. Apart from my best friend, with whom I went to see his movies, I didn’t know anyone else who was a fan and all I knew about the man was what I read in the printed press. I kept a scrap book with cuttings from newspapers and magazines and saved up to buy posters and picture books from a movie memorabilia shops in The Hague and London.
When I spotted a birthday card with the text ‘You have something in common with Paul Newman, Robert Redford and Marlon Brando’ on the front and ‘You’re all over 40 years old’ on the inside, I bought it and sent it to Newman. I had learned the name of his house, in Westport, Connecticut, and that’s where I sent my card. I didn’t expect anything of it.
A few weeks later I received a large envelope. In it was a signed still from his latest movie – Absence of Malice – and a letter, written by Newman’s secretary on ‘Paul Newman’ embossed stationery. I didn’t know at the time a lot of actors would send out autographed pictures to fans when written to. So for me, a – somewhat immature – girl living in a small village in the Dutch countryside, it was a wonderful surprise.
Learning of Paul Newman’s death today through Twitter made me dig out my old scrapbook to find the picture and letter. I’m not sure the autograph is Newman’s own, his secretary may have signed the photo. It doesn’t matter, really, and I’m way past the autograph-phase, but I’m glad I still have it, a reminder of the person I was back then.
Seen: Control, a film by Anton Corbijn, at Tuschinski, Amsterdam on October 11.
Never having been a Joy Division fan and only really appreciating their music in hindsight – for a few shameful months in the early 80′s I claimed to prefer Paul Young’s cover of Love Will Tear Us Apart over the original – , my main reason to see the film Control was its director. It’s safe to say I’m not going to be entirely objective in my opinion of the film. Corbijn’s the only Dutch hero I have and you’re not going to find me slagging off his work. Thankfully, I don’t have to. Control may well be his best snapshot.
I knew the basics of Joy Division and Curtis’s story: the epilepsy, the way he moved on stage, the suicide. I put him firmly in the ‘tortured soul’ (and thus sympathetic) department of the ‘dead icons’ warehouse in my mind.
Halfway through the film, my opinion of Curtis changed. I’ve never had much sympathy for kids stupid enough to marry in their teens or manchildren who cheat on their wives.
‘Twat,’ I thought as Curtis rings the wife to tell her he’s finished it with his Belgian paramour, then stumbles straight back into the other woman’s arms. ‘Idiots,’ I thought, as his manager and fellow band members put him back on stage straight after his first attempted suicide. ‘Fuck off and die,’ I thought as the terribly twee ‘Annik’ kept coming back for more supposedly deep and meaningful conversation, the sneaking around condoned and abetted by the likes of Tony Wilson. God rest his soul, but… ‘Wanker!’
Meanwhile I’m practically salivating over the stark cinematography of the film. Given Corbijn’s visionary photography, this was always going to be a good looking movie. Still, I think he surpassed himself by toning down the romanticism so prevalent in his photographs; omitting the more baroque influences on his style: the religious and erotic imagery you’ll be familiar with through his work with Depeche Mode in particular. In Control, Corbijn finds a painful, sparse beauty in grey, the predominant colour of Thatcherite Britain, capturing the essence of the era as only a knowledgeable outsider can. Every single shot in this film is a work of art, substance winning out over style throughout.
Corbijn – a photographer who really wanted to be a drummer – makes the ‘concert’ parts of the film look real. Hyper real. This isn’t what it’s like being at a concert, this is what it feels like to be at and play a concert. The sound during the concert scenes has a real punch too. Having the
actors play their instruments for real was a really smart move by the ‘first time’ director. His tracking shots of a rapturous audience are spot on: the anonymous strangers lost in their own worlds, the childlike gazes of your bestest fans, the one familiar face that’s there for you, time not running quite the way it should… Again, Corbijn is the knowledgeable outsider, drawing from his experience with musicians and their craft.
Anton Corbijn and Pimm Jal de la Parra, 1989
Actor Sam Riley looks the part and does a great job most of the time, especially on stage and in the scenes he plays on his own. He’s less convincing acting off other actors, the formidable Samantha Morton (who plays Debbie Curtis) in particular, but given his character, the clumsiness works in his favour. The supporting cast is excellent, particularly the light relief provided by Toby Kebbell as the band’s manager Rob Gretton and the two young actors playing Hooky and Barney.
Various reviews have made mention of the other movie set in the era, 24 hour party people, some claiming the earlier film superior, preferring its Winterbottom’s exuberance over Corbijn’s stark view. I think Winterbottom’s film is myth-making, somewhat glorifying, while Corbijn’s vision demystifies and humanises Joy Division’s story.
The final stages of the film are harrowing despite knowing the outcome in advance. For those of us who have lost loved ones in similar circumstances, these kind of images really are too close for comfort. Thankfully, Corbijn pulls back from his subject, granting Curtis privacy in his final moments. The last frame of the movie informs you he was 23 years old when he died.
Twenty-three. That’s when it hits home. Young enough to only see black and white, not old enough to know better. Young enough to be forgiven for his twattiness and philandering. What a waste.
The day after, I stick on Control’s soundtrack and burst into tears.
Jim Emerson (for RogerEbert.com) runs down a list of 102 movies ‘everybody ought to have seen in order to have any sort of informed discussion about movies’. Being a movie buff s high on my list of never achieved/will never achieve ambitions. The list, with those I’ve seen bolded, follows after the break.
I walk the line: ‘And take the pills.’ Joaquin Phoenix is highly watchable channelling Johnny Cash, but the film felt a little too much like a tv/mini series to me.
North Country: ‘Life is tough when yer a miner girl.’ Very ‘Silkwood’, in fact Charlize Theron might just be the new Meryl Streep.
The Matador: ‘Bond. Not Bond.’ Eye-opening performance by Pierce Brosnan, great support from Greg Kinnear. I fell asleep 3/4 through the film, must watch the end soon.
Walllace and Gromit and the Curse of the Were Rabbit: Gave up after five minutes. Not in the mood for clay-silliness.
I’m looking for a good book to read after Banville’s The Sea and McEwan’s Saturday. Any suggestions?
Summer Glau (River Tam in Serenity) is very pretty. I attended the
premiere in Amsterdam on Tuesday evening, where Summer and Nathan
Fillion (Captain Mal Reynolds) were guests of honour. Quite a few good shots
even though the red carpet thing was a nightmare. But every time I do
this kind of thing, I get hungry for more, and hungrier for better
equipment, although you definitely learn to make do with what you have.
An L-series 28-300 (dream on) would come in very, very handy. Or a second body.
I am a lucky bastard, I get to go to the Dutch premiere of Serenity on September 6. United Pictures have been very generous.
Cast members Nathan Fillion (Mal) and Summer Glau (River) will be attending too, but I’m more excited about seeing the film again. I’ve wanted to ever since I saw it at the private screening two weeks ago.
I have absolutely NOTHING to wear to a premiere. And I’m not joking, I’m all casual all the time. I also have no idea what to ask the cast if there’s a Q&A. I think I’ll stick to wielding my camera.
If things work out with the mail service, I’ll probably be donning a Whedonesque.com ‘staff’ t-shirt. Front: ‘Who is flying this thing?’ Back: ‘Oh right, that would be me.’ Design similar to the regular Whedonesque.com t-shirts we’ve just made available.