Posts Tagged ‘Vertigo’

Vertigo…

September 13, 2012

Problem solved

The flawed and deeply unjust British legal system needs no introduction. Suffice to say that I am required by the courts to complete no fewer than 16 “gay dates” (or “gates” as I call them) with that goblin When Hearts Turn Blue, for fouling on his lawn and deflowering his formerly virginal Yorkshire terrier Margaret.

I need not explain to the moral and goodhearted readers of the Agoraphobic Reviewer the craven injustice in this ruling, from which the only crumb of comfort to be gleaned is that I shall be holding my “no win, no fee” solicitors to their worthless word.

A clause of Lord Justice Bumbody’s sentencing states that WHTB may call in these “gates” at a moment’s notice. Thus it came to pass that on Tuesday gone, he called me via his usual intermediary (his great aunt) summoning me to the St Shrubbery Moving Picture House and Hall of Ill-repute with the intention of watching the latest summer blockbuster, Vertigo.

I am blessed with the gift of excellent foresight (I once had the sense to grow limbs and a penis a mere eight months before I was called upon to be born) and – though I had not foreseen this particular call – within a flash it was clear that I would be requested to pen a review of the new flick for the AR. Thanks to this almost superhuman prescience  I was able to imagine the entire content of the film in as few as 7 seconds. It is this vision that I hereby lay before you, as told to WHTB’s great aunt, who thoughtfully transcribed it on her portable typewriter, seeing fit to remove the majority of the swears.

Vertigo is a very singular film about a very singular man. So singular, in fact, is he, that he is in want of a wife. A girlfriend we cannot say, for he seems to have one of those – and a fine one at that – though her role seems to be that of the compound noun in its purest sense, to whit a friend who is a girl. She may very well be his social worker or carer, it is hard to understand her clipped and clean American accent, so different is it from the theatrical Noo Yoik drawl and Vegas bawl that the Shakespearean greats of television have accustomed us to.

Vertigo is a misleading title, referring obliquely as it does to the principal character’s fear of the words “verb to go”. The fact that the aforementioned girlfriend has vertiginous pink passion blancmanges is purely a diverting coincidence – or perhaps one of the many tricks deployed by director Alfred Hitchcock to throw the viewer off the scent that the picture makes no sense.  Still, who cares when with a pair of baby’s dinners like that in supporting roles the film is a shoe-in for an award.

Having established that the name is inappropriate, it is worth noting that a more fitting title would be I Tried To Wash Your Hair a Little – A Rapey Tale.  The story follows the exploits of Rowdy Roddy Peeper James Stewart as he scurries about generally disregarding society’s norms. This too is all by-the-by since, as WHTB remarked mid-film, one is incapable of listening to Stewart act his acting without hearing him say “It’s in Bill’s house and Fred’s house”. This is of a course a reference to a line in Stewart’s most famous work, the blue movie Jimmy Stewie Puts His Penis In People’s Houses and the only other film WHTB has ever seen. Indeed he insisted we re-watch this movie the other night in place of Vertigo which, of course, I have still not seen but which I hereby give two vertiginous funbags.

Vertigo has already been reviewed on the Agoraphobic Reviewer by editor in chief, John Le Baptiste. But to distract you from this, here is trad-jazz classic Tubthumping (on the theme of vertigo), as performed by its original writer, to play us out…

A review of a film

March 21, 2010

It’s me, Mr B Fett. I saw a film. This is what I have to say about it.

Some friends of mine drove us there. There were four of us: String-o, Luggy, Zandwich and me. We were in a car, initially. Then, later, we were in the foyer of the cinema. Actually, before that we were in the car park. This detail is probably important for continuity, otherwise, dear reader, you might assume we ram-raided the cinema, or that we were at a drive-in. But the cinema foyer was exciting. There were lots of people there, milling about and paying for drinks and coloured ice slushes and popped corn. Man, I was so excited. Except the film was full so we had to wait until they showed it again.

Luckily it was on again in an hour.

I bought a drink. It was medium but it was stretching the definition of medium as it was more like massive. We had some food in our bags, a trick we learned from our elders. But we still bought some drinks because we didn’t want to look like we’d strayed too far from the herd.

Eventually we went into the screen-room (number eight) with all the other people, and seated ourselves appropriately. The gradient of the seating and stairs seemed excessively steep, almost like a cliff, but with rows of seating. Luggy immediately suffered from a sudden wave of Vertigo (the capital ‘V’ is a film reference not a typo) as a result of the steep gradient. I didn’t like the idea of sitting on the edge of a cliff to watch a film but I held onto my seat and leaned as far back as possible so I wouldn’t fall over the seats in front of me and tumble onto the families below.

We chatted about our plans for toilet breaks and how we would find our seats after going to the toilet. In the end we agreed to do a Mexican wave when the toilet-visiter returned. Then the adverts started.

I can’t really remember the adverts, but there was one about Doctor Who. Strange really because Doctor Who’s by the BBC so that means my TV license money went towards a cinema advert. After a while a message on the screen told us to put our 3D glasses on. Then they had some more adverts but in 3D and I can’t remember what they were for but there was quite a lot of them and one of them wasn’t in 3D. Zandwich felt a bit sick as well. I thought it might have been the steep gradient but it might not have been.

The film started. It had the usual BBFC classification screen first and it had been classified a PG. The woman behind me got angry about that because her husband had told her it was a 15. I didn’t hear his excuse though.

The film was in 3D as well. It wasn’t really like proper 3D, like how life is in 3D. It was a bit like a pop-up book except not as good, like as if the pop-up bits weren’t popping up properly. And now and then one of the characters would throw something at the screen and you might try and duck and then you’d remember it’s a film in a cinema and the object’s not real so you don’t need to duck.

For some reason the film didn’t stick to what happened in the book. It made some other stuff up and just included a few things that happened in the book. It’s not a pop-up book so maybe that’s why, I don’t know.

In summary I give it six out of ten.