SCRIPT: Bent Soul

Have you ever made a sudden movement which was followed by a sharp and unexpected pain? Maybe you let out a large yawn or turned suddenly. You would certainly attribute this pain to a pulled muscle or something of that nature. But what if the pain was followed by an overwhelming feeling of emptiness? That’s what happened to Ryan Foulk in Christopher Bate’s latest script Bent Soul. The doctor diagnoses him with a case of “bent soul” for which only Ryan can find the cure. Armed with only a useless NHS pamphlet from the GP, Ryan and his best friend Kyle set out to sort out Ryan’s soul. Along the way they meet a variety of weird and wonderful people and embark on a series of adventures involving religion, a midget and a hot-looking therapist among others.

The story is original and captivating much in the way that Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was. The notion of a bent soul, like erased memories, is fantastical but offers an appealing explanation for that pain we all experience in deep sadness or heartbreak. For example, have you ever felt so heartbroken that you were in physical pain? The idea that some part of you was physically broken through grief or emotional trauma doesn’t seem so far fetched at the time. So is Christopher Bate the next Charlie Kauffman? Perhaps, but there are clearly other influences at work. For example, the pairing of sensitive and sensible Ryan with horny and precocious Kyle owes some credit to the films of Kevin Smith. Much like Kevin Smith’s films, Bent Soul is also heavy with dialogue and observational comedy. Don’t expect a UK version of Clerks or Mallrats, however. It is far more imaginative and sensitive than that. After all of their weird and wonderful encounters, Ryan and Kyle still have to deal with the painful events that have lead to his soul getting bent in the first place. A lot of films don't easily make the leap between the funny and the personal which results in a disjointed film. This script, however, handles the transition very well and in an honest and touching way. While you can see where Chris was influenced, this is clearly an original story.

If you have any clout in the film industry I ask you a favour. Get this film made. It would mean a lot to the writer, obviously. From a purely selfish point of view, however, it would make me happy too because the script is the funniest thing I’ve read in ages and it’s the sort of thing that I would like to see. So go on, make a girl happy.

FILM: Rubber Johnny by Chris Cunningham

When I heard that Chris Cunningham had a new short out I immediately had two thoughts: 1) About time! and 2) How fucked up is this flick going to be?
For those of you that aren't aware of the man's work Mr Cunningham is responsible for outlandish promos for Aphex Twin (The wickedly disturbing 'Come To Daddy' and 'Windowlicker'), Bjork, Portishead and Placebo. He also directed the shorts 'Flex' and 'Monkey Drummer'. The man has a gift for creating frantic and unsettling visions and 'Rubber Johnny' is more of the horrible same.
Johnny is a mutant boy, locked in a basement with only his dog for company. Johnny spends his time contorting his warped body to the squealing sound of Aphex Twin.
It is filmed in 'night vision' previously seen in 'One Night In Paris' (Another horror art film) and the interplay of light and dark help to instil further dread.
It starts off with Johnny talking to an off camera doctor before kicking into a more music video style. The cuts are frenzied and twisted, often causing laughter as well as chills.
It's really hard to sum up a film like this but it is worth seeing. If you click the link below you will witness something that you won't forget.

I have to warn you that this is not safe for work and, well, if you don't like bizarre body horror then stay away.

Before you say “This is barely a review, man”. Watch the flick and you will see how hard it is to sum it up.

Rubber Johnny

THEATRE: This Is How It Goes

So this is how it goes. Last Monday I got a phone call from a friend of a friend. I've met her a few times, we get along well and she wanted to know if I was keen to go and see the new Neil LaBute play This Is How It Goes. Of course I was keen! This is Neil LaBute of In the Company of Men and Our Friends and Neighbours! So I said yes and off to the Donmar we went.

The play takes place in a modern day midwestern American town and revolves around 3 characters. Man, the narrator, has returned home after 12 years and bumps into his high school crush Belinda outside the department store. Former cheerleader Belinda is now unhappily married to the former high school track star and current successful businessman Cody. She is taken by Man's charm and warmth which is in stark contrast to her husband's condescension and irritability. Cody, on the other hand, is not amused with Man's smart-ass talk or by Belinda's and Man's seeming obliviousness to the problems he faces as a black man in a predominantly white town. The married couple have a room to rent and Man moves in creating a tense dynamic in the already unhappy marriage.

Man tells the audience how it goes, but warns us that he is a somewhat unreliable narrator so what we are seeing is just the version of events he wants us to see. His charm (and he certainly is charming), Belinda's sweet fondness for him and Cody's general unlikeability are what Man has decided to share with us. Not long into the play I began to wonder just how economical he has been with the truth. It's a great trick because it prevents the audience from passively accepting what we are being told. It also makes it striking when Man lets his true feelings show. The level of ugliness he reaches can't be a lie and it says a lot about white middle-America. Lest us not forget that this is a Neil LaBute play and therefore one should not expect to leave the theatre with much hope for mankind.

The actors in the London production were fantastic. Ben Chaplin was charming and disarming as Man. Megan Dodd and Idris Elba as Belinda and Coy were both impressive. The dialogue was as sharp, witty and natural as you would expect from Neil LaBute.

If you are keen to catch This Is How It Goes you can see it in Bristol at the Old Vic from the 12th to the 16th and in Manchester at the Lowry from the 19th to the 23rd. I recommend you do.

Upon meeting The Steve

** As requested by the man himself **

Crash! Bang! Boom! In arrives The Steve. I was sitting in the living room watching a movie when he made his entrance. Just back from a football game, he was charged with energy and before any introductions could be made he swiftly attacked a blow-up Homer doll. Why two grown men would have a blow up doll of a male tv character is beyond me, but as they say “men are from Mars”… Anyhow, after the brawl with the giant inflated Homer I was introduced to the man that I had heard so much about. “This is Stephanie.” “This is Steve”. “Hi.” “Hi.” I didn’t really know what to expect when I met him, but I knew that he would be loud. And he lived up to that expectation when he sang along to “Afternoon Delight” from The Anchorman.

Steve has “shit disturber” written on his forehead so I was expecting to be teased a bit. And I was. But only a bit. A few South Park and Celine Dion questions related to Canada in the cab to Wolverhampton was the extent of it. From the look on Chris’s face, however, I could tell he was expecting far worse. I was expecting something like “You do maths for a living right? What is 8347581437 times 897867?” or “So Steph, how many people have you had sex with and rank your favourite positions?” or “In 10 seconds, why didn’t Canada support the war in Iraq?”. What I got was pretty easy.

Don’t think, however, that The Steve is all “shit disturber”. While I got a bit of gentle teasing, he was also really nice and asked genuine questions about where I am from. He also texted his well wishes to me, Chris, Nick and Jen onto the screen at the club we went to that night. Considering he had only known me for a few hours I thought this last gesture was quite sweet.

Chris warned me that meeting The Steve was an experience and he was certainly right.

FILM: Brats

Some movies teach us valuable lessons (sharks kill; hookers have hearts of gold; white men can’t jump), but when the family in Zdenek Tyc’s film Brats move to the countryside to escape the racism directed at their two adopted Romany sons it’s obvious that they haven’t seen Straw Dogs. Predictably, it all ends in tears when one of the Romany boys is falsely accused of damaging a local man’s car. The family are then forced to face the subtle and overt racism of residents as well as what defines them as a family.

Set in a culture and country in transition, the film explores how people adapt to change and how these changes force them to re-evaluate what were once cultural norms. The old man whose car was damaged and his wife, whose racism is both overt and passive, are of an age where much of their lives were spent under communist rule. Largely cut-off from other cultures, it would be strange to find their town now home to people whom they would not consider Czech. The modern world is encroaching on their existence – Tesco, motorways, immigration and new types of family units.

The family, on the other hand, struggle with the very concept of family. Is it wrong for the mother to be so protective of her young, blonde, asthmatic, natural son? If Romany boys are both adopted with different birth mothers are they still brothers? If so, why can’t their young friend be their brother too? Are the boys Czech, Romany or half-Romany?

As with Show Me Love, the director used very talented and natural young actors. Unfortunately, he spoils many of the performances by clumsily forcing long intense shots of the characters. The viewer is already aware of what the characters are feeling and these images of their distress and sadness seem manipulative and become irritating. The cinematographic trick that did work was the use of various shots of the village from the treetops and showing the surrounding hills. The town seems like an isolated dimple in the countryside until we see the motorway bridge and the lights of traffic at night remind us of the encroaching urban expanse.

Brats is a film that attempts to deal with topical issues in the Czech Republic, but falls short in its execution. Does it qualify as art? Yes, but not terribly enjoyable art.

FILM: Show Me Love

** I am spoiling the ending here so don't read it unless you want to know what happens **

For quiet teenage lesbian Agnes (Rebecka Liljeberg), making friends in the depressingly dull Swedish town of Åmål is harder than assembling an Ikea wardrobe. She finds herself forced out of her flat-pack closet after an encounter with school rebel and object of her secret desires, Elin (Alexandra Dahlström), who cruelly tricks her into thinking that she is the one who’ll show her love. When the truth comes out - Elin was only doing it for a bet - Agnes is humiliated. Elin's conscience soon gets the better of her and after apologising to Agnes she discovers the two share dreams of escaping their insular world and lofty ambitions that would never been achieved or understood in Åmål.

The film is billed as a teenage lesbian love story, but it more accurately portrays the problems faced by anyone deemed "different" in a small town - especially in the conformist world of teenagers. At any school there will always be an "in crowd" and another group who are ostracised for no reason apart from the fact that they are different. While the John Hughes' style of teen movies usually depicted the misfits ultimately conforming to the norm, it's refreshing to see two characters grappling with the difficulties of being different and ultimately revealing their true selves to the world.

Lukas Moodysson's debut film captures a side of teenage life that is often sanitised in mainstream American movies. While it is common for actors in American teen movies to be well into their twenties with gleaming white teeth, a smooth complexion and svelte figures, Moodysson's cast looked like average teenagers. This is largely due to his use of young novice actors in the film resulting in a more believable story. Moodysson also managed to capture the behaviour of teenagers in a realistic light - at times awkward, moody and selfish.

With the film’s realistic approach, it’s surprising that it ends on such a positive note – an uplifting soundtrack and Elin declaring to the school that she and Agnes are off to have sex. While this reflects the characters' confidence and solidarity, it also shows their extreme naivety. Perhaps this was intentional, but the viewer can’t help but wonder what would really happen next. Agnes's parents would have probably been supportive, but classmates would have tormented the girls and it’s unlikely that the weaker Elin would have reverted to type and end up like everyone else - making do with the local boy who fancies but doesn't understand her, abandoning her dreams of being a psychologist and having only the lottery to look forward to.

Show me love? Just show me a way out of Åmål, thank you.