The Question in Bodies, Appendix 2: Fembot Pop

Charli XCX, “Femmebot” (2017)
Robyn, “Fembot” (2010)
Janelle Monae, “Electric Lady” (2015)
Grimes, “4ÆM” (2019), “We Appreciate Power” (2018)
Poppy, “Time is Up” (2018), “Hard Feelings” (2018)

There's a sense in which – as a person whose gender identity, although in a state of flux for as long as I can remember, is for the sake of safety usually expressed as male – I don't really get to make instructive statements on feminist issues. I can't. Empathy can only go so far: I've been told I'm empathic, but I don't think I am, particularly. What I am is observant, vigilant if you like. So all I can do here is observe, and report. I hope that's OK.

This post  comes with its own Spotify playlist, so if you're lucky enough to have Spotify, feel free to listen along.

Portuguese Short Films at MotelX

(That's me at the closing ceremony with Raquel Freire.)

In September 2019, I was asked to represent Kier-La Janisse and the Miskatonic Institute of Horror Studies at the 13th MotelX Horror Film Festival. There, I met a load of great people, and got to interview Hereditary/Midsommar director Ari Aster about folk horror on the big stage at Lisbon's Cinema São Jorge. I was also asked to take on the responsibility of being part of the jury for this year's short horror film competition. MotelX is part of the European Fantastic Film Festivals Federation, and each year awards two Méliès d'Argent prizes, named for Europe's father of fantastic film, George Méliès. One is for short Portuguese film, one for features. Aside from a cash prize and a trophy, the winner gets to compete for the Méliès d'Or, alongside the winners of other festivals across Europe. It's a big deal, and it was a highlight of my career so far to be part of the team entrusted with the decision.

Don't do that, Rupert

(I just needed a picture of an exceptionable Rupert. Sorry.) 

I saw a review of a poetry book this morning, which I'm not going to link, and I mean I'm not a good poet and I don't know much about poetry, but here's the thing, this was a little book by no one you'd heard of, from a tiny publisher, and the guy (from the name, 95% sure it was a white guy, English, and from the writing, 95% sure he's straight) who reviewed it was utterly scathing, and not even in any methodical way. He was just mean, picking out a couple of terrible lines without giving you any idea of the book beyond "this has some bad lines in it".

And OK, maybe I'd read those lines too and go, "ouch" – and the lines he singled out were indeed pretty ouch – but seriously, Rupert? What does it achieve?

You know I write about film, right? And you know I'm not afraid to say bad things about a film if I think it's bad? But the thing is, sometimes I get sent movies that were made by first time directors and which cost like 25p and I don't think it's fair to rag on those. Like, there are things you can say, but there's punching down and punching up.

There's a qualitative difference to saying, for instance, "This piece will spoil plot points, but to be honest nothing will ruin things for you quite as much as actually watching the film,"* about a multimillion buck blockbuster to saying that about a self funded folk horror short made in a back yard in Glasgow.

Pointing out that a film about monsters that cost gazillions to make, made gazillions in the box office and has gazillions of fans is bad is not going to hurt anyone. They're big enough to take it. It's like a BB bullet shot at, well, at Godzilla. Ruthlessly dumping on the production values of a film that can't afford to look like a Hollywood blockbuster because the cash was scraped together from a mid-range Kickstarter, or squashing like a bug the aspirations of a first time scriptwriter, or tearing out the bad lines of someone's small press poetry collection?

The word for that is not "criticism". The word for that is "bullying". When, like me, you're just someone with a blog, OK, you can feel like you're on the bottom of the tree too, but the role of the critic is never really just to say whether something is good or not anyway.

And there's an intellectual discipline in writing a redemptive reading of a thing. People seem to think that it is somehow more clever to be negative about stuff. That's false. To find reasons to see the value in things is often more difficult and challenging (and trust me in this: I watched Hellraiser: Hellseeker last night, or Hellraiser 6 to you), and much, much more worthwhile.

And all the more important when your subject isn't, for whatever reason, strong enough to take a hit, even if it's just from some random with a blog.
___

*Yes, I was pleased with myself for writing that. And yes, I do understand that makes me a bit of a dick. And no, I don't care.

The Action Movie Pulled Over Your Eyes

The Matrix (1999); The Matrix Reloaded (2003); The Matrix Revolutions (2003)

You've seen The Matrix, I expect. Even if you haven't, what if I told you that you've still got a half decent chance of being able to quote lines from the film?

(Also, what if I told you that Morpheus never says "What if I told you"? But I digress.)

So, Spoiler warnings are irrelevant, but here's one anyway. All the spoilers are here. All of them.

Like you care.

Children in Concentration Camps: a Filmic Survey

The Boy in the Striped Pajamas (2008)

(Note: I suppose I should include a spoiler warning here, but to be honest, anything that means you don't have to watch this is a blessing and you should thank me.)

But what if, right, what if it was a kid who wasn't Jewish that died in the Holocaust? What if a kid who wasn't supposed to died? Like one of your kids? Wouldn't that make you realise? Wouldn't you understand what you were doing then? Wouldn't that make you sorry?

Because if the state of the world tells us anything right now, it's not like we're able to feel anything for anyone else's children.

Feel the compassion. No, not compassion for the Jewish people, because they're the collateral damage of history, right? No, you have to feel, really feel for the family of the Nazi whose own kid accidentally gets gassed. Feel for him. Feel the sympathy. feel the sincerity.

Feel the all-consuming performative middlebrow middle-class smugness.

God, I hope the people who made this thing (and yeah, all right, that includes John Boyne, who wrote the book) are so proud of themselves.

That's all you get.

See also: The Reader (2008)

On Patronage

For about a year and a half now, I've benefitted from the modest support of a profile on Patreon. I'm glad it's there. For one, without my Patreon backers, I couldn't have reviewed quite as many films as I have. Last week, Patreon decided to ramp up its fees for contributors. The result of that was that many, many supporters across the board jumped ship, so much so that Patreon reversed the decision. But it didn't bring the supporters back. As a creator with only a modest support and a Patreon I've neglected, I decided that it was time to start figuring out how to improve things. So from now on, patrons get to see my writing posts before anyone else, and I'm asking support for the work I've done rather than a general monthly subscription (so think of it as a regular tip jar that keeps my work going), which means that in quiet months, I won't ask for so much cash. The new model begins with the next post I do, and if you're supporting me already and you're thinking, this isn't what I signed up for, that's OK, there's no rancour involved. 

If you don't want to support me financially (even if it's just the occasional quid), that's OK too. I'm going to post everything here eventually – just, after the patrons see it. It'll encourage me to be more circumspect with my work anyway, and more careful about saving it.

If you can spare a few quid every so often, please feel free to help me out. But even if you can't, thanks for coming here. My blog's readership has grown from me knowing the names of everyone who read it back in 2015 to me seeing hundreds and occasionally thousands of people visiting.

And I'm grateful for every reader I have, every share, every bit of support I receive.

You can support my Patreon here, or via the button on the top of the web version of the page.

Edit: there's an early access post at the Patreon now, onPossession (1981). Start as you mean to go on, right?

Perplexed Music

Yesterday I was lucky enough, thanks to Jon Dear, to take advantage of an invitation to attend the premiere of Mark McGann's new short film Perplexed Music at the BFI's National Film Theatre 1. It was good to see Jon again (and to catch up with several friends who were also in attendance).

The Roman Polanski Rule

My expression on reading Polanski's Wikipedia page. 

(First, I need to say that my writing here has faced another setback, with the death of my hard drive. I'm in the process of getting a new one and I've backed up everything but typing without a computer is hard. In fact, I'm typing up this post with my thumbs, on an Xperia XA1 Ultra. Sorry about that.)

It's come to this. Do you have secret rules you don't talk about? Is this just me? See, I have a Roman Polanski Rule.