Bruce Micallef Eynaud looks at the latest film by Paul Thomas Anderson – Inherent Vice
I’m a huge fan of Paul Thomas Anderson, director of the brilliant Boogie Nights, There Will Be Blood and the charming Punch Drunk Love. Even his debut film Hard Eight is wildly underappreciated. However, his last film, The Master, felt disappointing. Perhaps my anticipation was too high, but it was a vague and uninvolving film that had me leaving the cinema thinking ‘I hope his next film will be better’.
Well, here we are. Inherent Vice is an adaptation of a Thomas Pynchon novel about a pot-smoking hippie detective called Doc Sportello investigating the disappearance of his ex-girlfriend Shasta and her billionaire property tycoon boyfriend Mickey Wolfmann in Los Angeles, 1970s. From the outset the choice seems a perfect fit for Anderson. Sixties swing to fit between The Master’s fifties formalism and Boogie Night’s seventies groove. However the result is unfortunately his worst film to date.
Illustration by Bruce Micallef Eynaud
The main problems stem from its faithfulness to the source novel. Pynchon’s book itself is hard to follow ( I tried for two thirds). It’s a wildly complicated mystery involving several bizarre characters and enough period references to afford three volumes of footnotes. Anderson clearly loves the book and much of the film is taken word for word from the novel. Yet while you can always turn back the pages of the book and reread what you didn’t grasp, in the film, information flies at you so fast you cant keep up, and the movie is very long ( over two and half hours). What makes it worse is that much of the dialogue is mumbled by the stoner characters, so that even with the voice over narration it’s frankly impossible to keep track of what’s going on.
That would be fine is the film was actually very funny, however it’s mildly amusing at best. Therefore, since it doesn’t work as a detective-comedy, it only has the ‘detective’ to go on, and detective films need a plot that you can follow. Otherwise we don’t care about the mystery. We need to know what’s happening if we are to be curious about what’s happening next. It made me think, what happened to Anderson? He was able to weave several stories together into a beautifully cohesive whole in Boogie Nights and Magnolia, and Punch Drunk Love has a light and simple comic touch that’s missing here.
Another problem is that Joaquin Phoenix felt miscast. He’s a great actor and he’s good enough in the film, but, in the novel, Doc’s a wise-cracking smart-ass, and Phoenix doesn’t fit the role. It’s the kind of character Robert Downey Jr plays brilliantly, one that requires great comic timing.
That’s not to say there aren’t great things in the film. Josh Brolin is perfectly cast as corrupt detective Bigfoot Bjornsen, and Martin Short steals the show as a perverted dentist in a wonderfully weird sequence. Robert Elswit’s cinematography, with its grainy look and bright colours, evokes a 70’s film very well. There are some fun scenes, and moments where you forget plot and enjoy the eccentricity, yet they are far too few and far between. Ultimately those moments only remind you what a great film this could have been.
Verdict:
A disappointingly messy detective movie that is too hard to follow to be truly enjoyable.
Bruce Micallef Eynaud reviews Kornél Mundruczó’s thrilling film – White God
On the poster for White God there is a quote from British newspaper The Guardian which states the film has a ‘rabid relation to Hitchcock’s The Birds’. While the films do share a swarm of animals attacking humans (this time it’s dogs rather than birds) , they also are told in very different ways.
The director unleashed 250 real dogs in the streets of Budapest in White God.
While in Hitchcock’s film the bloodthirsty bird invasion is an unexplained phenomena, in White God the film is told mainly through the perspective of the dog himself, Hagen. The film is Hagen’s journey from being the beloved pet of Lili (a brilliantly natural performance by Zsofia Psotta), until he is abandoned by her father and is subjected to the cruelties of man, before leading a four-legged revolution against all those humans who have wronged him. Rather than the birds, the film White God resembles more is Rise of the Planet of the Apes.
However while Apes featured a great motion capture performance by Andy Serkis, what is most thrilling about White God is that you are watching an actual animal give an astounding performance. Hagen is played by Bodie, and, whether it’s thanks to his own talent or the terrific work of dog trainer Teresa Miller, it is more believably transformative than many human performances. The best thing about it is that the film never forgets that Hagen is a dog, so there is no anthropomorphism or Dr. Dolittle style talking, yet the emotions of Hagen still come through.
The naturalism of the dogs is one way the film distances itself from the syrupy sentimentality of Disney’s Homeward Bound. Another way is the cinematography of the film, which is often handheld and shaky, giving the film a gritty, documentary-esque feel. However the shaky-cam look is overused and becomes frustrating to watch, while also making the film visually indistinguishable from so many other European independent films. What this film could have benefited from was more Spielbergian elegance; more of a cinematic gloss, the kind of which made the Swedish horror film Let the Right One In so dazzling to watch. However the film’s story is a very gripping one, and we feel real fear, sadness and empathy for our protagonist, as he goes from streets into the hands of crooks like a furry Oliver Twist.
The end of the film, with dogs running riot over the streets of Hungary, is pure cinema, and one of the most exhilarating sequences I’ve seen in the last few years. Perhaps after all the grim reality, a small flight of vengeful fancy is much appreciated.
Illustration by Bruce Micallef Eynaud
Verdict:
Bold, thrilling and unforgettable, White God is a must-see film. Kornél Mundruczó is a filmmaker to watch.
Eyeskreen reviews SPRINGBREAKERS, Harmony Korine’s controversial 2012 film.
It took me a while to get around to watch Springbreakers as I was under the impression it was created for what can be best described as the Beiber generation. Bikini-clad Disney starlets Gomez and Hudgens flaunting themselves on the promotional pictures could have been what misled me. But, being, after all, a Harmony Korine film, I had to get around to it sometime. And I’m so glad I have. Springbreakers follows Faith (Selena Gomez), Candy (Vanessa Hudgens), Brit (Ashley Benson) and Cotty’s (Rachel Korine) attempt to freely “enjoy to the fullest” their youth through the teen-party scene, while escaping from the boredom of school life. The story is pretty straightforward, and the characters, especially those played by Benson and Hudgens are rather bland and one-dimensional.
And that’s why they’re perfect. Had the characters been played by other actors, (real character actors vs Disney faces & the director’s wife) they would have been given more depth and undoubtedly, been rendered much more charismatic. But the satire wouldn’t have worked. That’s how Springbreakers works best – as a parody on the futility of the MTV club scene to which so many feel the need to belong to, in order to be a part of something bigger. The search for the meaning of life through the deafening vacuum of sound, coke and sexual degradation.
This film tears the adrenaline junkie’s modern-day American Dream to pieces without prior warning. It practically spells out the point that the much sought after glamour of a hedonistic lifestyle falls short of glamorous. So despite the promise of skin, violence and music, at it’s core the film really is as conservative as it could get. Maybe a bit too much, in fact. The problem is that, ironically, the promotional material was targeted at the same sector of society the film so vehemently criticizes.
Character wise, the film goes everywhere. Like Neighbors (2014), and even Natural Born Killers, (1994), the adrenaline-fuel moments are fast-paced (perhaps too much) and the lighting and color-toning leaves much to be desired. On the other hand, some other moments (eg. A slow-mo-montage involving a Britney Spears song) are beautifully executed. But all in all, the film many times feels unsure of where it wants to go.
But it doesn’t really matter – the message comes through crystal clear; The fast life is attractive, but it is wrong. Materialism may pull at us with a stronger will than old fashioned family values. Just like when Tom and Jerry’s conscience used to manifest in the forms of little angels and demons perched on their ears, Faith decides to leave Spring Break to head back home to her Catholic family. She leaves her friends with the words, “I wanna go home now. Spring break’s over. I know you both wanna stay.’ The scene perfectly echoed Michael Corleone’s plight in Godfather Part III, when he says, “ Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.” Most of the time, we know what the right thing to do would be. The other options are just too damn attractive.
The film comments on the desensitization of immorality – which is a pretty tough topic to tackle for anyone as morality is a highly subjective issue. Like any other lifestyle, the gangster lifestyle these kids get embroiled in takes getting used to. Faith leaves as soon as she smells trouble. Kind of like when we ran away from what would have been our first fight. Cotty managed to leave too, albeit later on and with a bullet hole in her arm. Sometimes it takes actual pain to bring us to our senses. The other two decide to stay and turn gangster. Complete desensitized.
Watching the performances was more than satisfying. I was reminded of when I watched The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things (2004), a wonderfully ugly film starring two other equally campy (and notoriously bland) Disney faces, the Sprouse brothers (or as they’re better known, Zack and Cody).
The best performance comes from Gomez. Watching her in this film, it was impossible not to be reminded of Anette Funicello. Like Gomez, she was a Disney star renowned for her wholesome image, who’s work was solely aimed at children and teenagers. She went on to be the main face (and bikini body) of the world famous Beach Party film series produced by AIP mainly from 1963 to 1965-66. Fun, sexy and controversial for their time, nowadays they’re considered pure camp (pun intended).
Gomez’s shell-shocked gaze once she opens her eyes to the reality of her ‘dream’ is sincere. Equally discomforting was Candy and Brit’s refusal to go home, even when it’s clear as day that things were going differently as planned. They are pained, confused and clearly can’t find a reason why they should stay. But they’re pulled in.
Maybe other films handled the same topic a little bit better. Project X (2012) comes to mind. While it revelled in the eye-candy that comes with a party in pornographic age we find ourselves in, it’s focus remained realism. Spring Breakers has the most unconvincing ending imaginable. But I won’t give too much away. Let’s just say, it’s definitely marketed towards the wrong audience.
Forget Selena and Hudgens. It’s a Harmony Korine film all the way.
From Tarnation, to Life in a day, and now Boyhood – we take a glimpse at one of the ways how the film medium is being slowly reinvented.
If cinema and originality are becoming less synonymous with one another, then how can we explain Richard Linklater’s Boyhood? The film I watched yesterday manages to blend documentary and fiction in a remarkably different manner. I would be tempted to call it docufiction, but even that doesn’t do justice to this unusual feat in cinema.
On the surface, the almost three hour movie seems like a simple sequence of events of a boy and his family in a span of 12 years. Nothing particularly dramatic happens throughout, which is why some found the film boring I guess, but what makes this film (or experiment) interesting is the process, not the actual content.
Linklater, the screenwriter and director for Waking life, and the ‘Before’ trilogy has managed to create a 4 million dollar ‘call it what you like’ film in a span of 12 years, following the boyhood of 1 boy, 1 actor named Mason. All the actors in the film, including one of the director’s regulars Ethan Hawke, were filmed periodically in this 12 year period.
The growing up of one actor (and all others) in Boyhood, filmed in 12 years
The events in Boyhood are fictional (the boy’s family isn’t the actor’s real family to start with), but the approach taken blurs the boundaries between the fictional and the real. For starters, the aging of the actual actors in the film lends itself to becoming a documentation of their aging process. How does the boy’s development in personality reflect his own upbringing throughout this 12 year span? How can we relate this to our own lives? We can extend the argument here and look at the acting of the characters in this long filming period. How could their actual life have a bearing on their acting performance? There are so many interesting questions that Boyhood raises, that it becomes almost impossible not to stop and look at film and what we’ve come to expect of cinema.
Nevertheless, it’s interesting to note that Boyhood is not the first moving image experiment that blurs the lines, although it probably is the one created by a more popular director / writer. Jumping back to 2003, one finds Jonathan Caouette’s highly compelling documentary Tarnation which follows the actual film maker documenting his own life in a span of 20 years. Slightly unrelated but also relevant in this context is the documentary Life in a day (2011) by Kevin Mc Donald, which designed a documentary montage of user generated videos around the world recorded and uploaded on a youtube channel on the 24th July 201o. Life in a day is available online for free, and I’ve included the link below.
I’m sure there are reasons why certain film makers are finding this novel approach to the art form interesting. Was it the case that in Tarnation, Jonathan Caouette used digital video as a means to document his life and better understand his growing up process? And even then, why did he decide to share his own vulnerability with the world? More strangely, why is this appealing to viewers?
Similarly, why was a collection of user generated videos interesting for audiences to watch in Life in a day? What does this documentary say about the nature of narrative? How can a compelling narrative be created by the randomness of user generated videos?
Which leads me to Boyhood. The film actually did very well at the box office ($43 million compared to the $4 million budget for such a film is great). What does this say about audience expectations with narrative today? Was it the case that audiences just watched it for the novelty aspect, or are audiences seeking new ways how to construct narrative in today’s day and age? Could the internet age have a bearing on how we read narrative?
All of the films mentioned manage to create such compelling questions, which do not stop with content and take a step further looking at the medium, and contemporary society.
I’m sure there are other examples which I can mention here, but these are the ones I can think of. Are you aware of any others? What do you think of the approach such films are taking?
Mikiel Camilleri Haber reviews Patrick Vella’s Breeder (2014), Malta’s very first gore-slasher-horror movie about the man and the worms he lives – and kills for.
Hailed as the first entirely Maltese gore horror movie, Breeder (2014) takes its main plot line from Patrick Vella’s previous short film, The Breeder (2013), a project which has been internationally recognized in quite a number of horror film festivals, garnering several awards in the process. In the 2013 short, the title character, played by Vella who also wrote and directed the film, makes his living breeding worms inside unwitting human victims. Patrick Vella returns with his dastardly character, this time in glorious 4K. This being Vella’s first full-feature project, it may very well be his most ambitious. The fact that it wasn’t over-hyped by the producers, and that not much information look-and-plot-wise was divulged prior to its release helped whet our appetites. It can be said that the short film by itself served as an effective pr machine.
Having been lucky enough to be one of the first few to watch the short The Breeder while it was making its’ initial visits around the globe, I can truthfully say it was an uncomfortable ten minutes. Being no stranger to gore movies myself (three that come to mind are Fred Vogel’s August’s Underground Mordum (2003), Deodato’s Cannibal Holocaust (1980) and Pascal Laugier’s Martyrs (2008), all of which are films I managed to watch and have a great nights sleep straight afterwards), I naively half-thought the short The Breeder, a home-grown, no-budget thing, wouldn’t impress me in the least. Which I admit I was wrong about.
Still from Martyrs (2008)
The Breeder (2013) managed to disturb me enough to put me off the genre for a while, something only one or two films had managed to do before. The reason for this was instantly clear to me – the film’s big twist was so unexpected it instantly heightened the ‘wow’ factor of the whole affair, thus rendering it much harder to stomach.
Learning later on that a full-length feature was in the making, I was instantly intrigued. The reason has nothing to do with how much I enjoy the genre. I also never expected to get the same satisfaction from the full length that I got from the short. As far as I was concerned, the best thing about the short was the final revelation, something that, this time around, was going to serve as the basis for the feature length. Now that the story’s big ‘why’ had been long since revealed, what was direly needed was character development, something that the short never touched upon. So me and my good friend and Eyeskreen creator Josef Florian got two middle-of-the-theater tickets, Cola and popcorn, and prepared ourselves to be entertained.
* * *
Breeder has a number of strengths. In this review, we thought we’d focus on the technical strengths and weaknesses rather than on those related to the validity (or otherwise) of the story. Regarding story, we’ll only say that it’s pretty straightforward (as most story lines within gore films tend to be) and while the film goes into much more depth as far as the breeder’s case is concerned, the protagonist’s back-story remains somewhat lacking. It would have been nice to learn something more about the breeder’s origins. How did he become the way he is? What is the exact nature of his relationship with the young girl? Who was his first victim? These are all questions that could have easily been answered. Perhaps these could be subjects for a prequel/sequel?
Patrick Vella once again plays the breeder, a forty year old man who breeds worms inside his human victims which he goes on to sell to a pet-shop. So it could be said that Breeder is about one man’s (inhumanly perverse) attempt at making a living on his own terms. Something he goes to great lengths to do. To clarify – the breeder has his own dungeon and invests in a multitude of tools that come in handy at one point or another during his operations. In all he is – the way he carries himself, his soft speaking voice, his obsession with classical music, his leather mask (a very obvious nod to Ed Gein and 70s shlock cinema in itself) and his butcher’s apron-jeans combo, the breeder is fascinating.
While the film attempts to suggest that the breeder only does what he does simply for monetary gain, we are definitely not convinced. He is too passionate about his work to be doing it simply for the money and not for the kick. The feeling that comes across is that with this film, Vella isn’t going for another SawII or Cube, with their multi-layerd complex plots and never fully-comprehensible worlds. If that was the case, we would have to say that he failed.
Rather, Breeder is much more reminiscent of 1980s splatter films we have all grown to love. These tended to have straightforward plots (many times involving a character driven by the thirst for revenge) and which offer a fairly satisfying twist at the end. Think The Last House on The Left (1972), the Ginī PigguJapanese series from the 1980s or the original I Spit on Your Grave (1978). Devil’s Experiment: First in the Guinea Pig Japanese Slash-Gore-Horror Series What do these films have that makes them so fascinating to watch, even after all these years? 70s and 80s gore-horror filmmakers’ motives were clear – they created mindless schlock – masterfully presented, sure to entertain. Rather than tackle contemporary world problems or comment on issues requiring intellectual investment, they reveled in broken bodies, severed limbs, despicable villains and heroes (many times in the forms of the attractive damsels in distress). And perhaps that’s why they stood the test of time.
While films like Bloodsucking Freaks (The Incredible Torture Show) (1976) – are world-renowned for their pervasive takes on body-hate (they are in fact called torture-porn for this reason), they ultimately manage to leave us entertained more than a post-Reign Over Me (2007)Sandler film does. Because mindless pop-corn movies (call me sick, but I do consider these films pop-corn), are easy to watch, enjoy, and forget once back in the real world.
“Don’t you ruin my dinner!” Still from Bloodsucking Freaks (1976)
For most of its’ running time, Breeder entertains in a similar way. It’s pure cinematic entertainment which doesn’t take itself too seriously while mastering many of the basic but required storytelling tools to keep the audience interested. Where does it lack? Screenplay-wise, Breeder could have done with more attention to detail. While we’ve just acknowledged that the film’s goal is to entertain the audience rather than make it think, and that it succeeds in that aspect, ‘mistakes’ or inconsistencies in a gore-horror screenplay are as much a problem as they would be in a Christopher Nolan film. For example – in one scene, Roderick Castillo’s character has been incapacitated by the breeder. For a while he endures excruciating pain and finds movement very difficult. A few seconds later he is seen effortlessly scaling the terrain and managing to run for his life. Wasn’t he on the verge of death just a few moments ago?
While it could be counter-argued that this type of film shouldn’t be nitpicked for consistencies (which I agree with), certain moments like the one mentioned here defied all logic. Then again, the Kill Bill films (2003, 2004) are full of these blatant ‘continuity goofs’, and those were great films. To which my answer would be – Kill Bill was an obvious pastiche / tribute / parody of 1970s kung-fu movies. With Breeder, one can only assume that the goal is to create a gore-horror movie in the style of a 1970s B-Movie, just because that’s what the final film feels like.
The editing could have definitely been tighter. It is moody – sometimes inspired, sometimes not. Certain sequences were needlessly prolonged due to the slow pacing of the editing to such an extent that the scene be rendered ineffective. An example of this would be a certain torture scene where we rapidly see the same action happening from different angles. This blatant breaking of the 180 degree rule, in this case, proved that some rules shouldn’t be broken without good reason. One particular scene of which sense could not be made was where the breeder murders a victim slowly and painfully in a dark, indoor location (we’re being very careful not to spoil here so we won’t be describing the action that goes on in this scene – just think Hitchcock). During this sequence, which is shot in-doors, we are treated to a solitary sunlit establishing shot showing the Courts of Justice in Valletta. Then we’re taken back to the previous scene.
Breeder’s cinematography proves to be quite immersive, having well thought lighting and angles in most parts. In fact as far as looks and visual character go, the film does quite an impressive job. The locations were also very intelligently and effectively scouted. Sporting a balanced variation of indoor and outdoor locations, each location is expertly dressed, and pleasant to watch. Breeder avoids the usual cliche other Maltese films fall victim to where audiences end up recognizing each location used, so in this aspect, Vella once again surpasses expectations.
Along with cinematography and set design, Breeder’s other major strength is the make-up and special effects department. Here it is very clear that Patrick’s team was playing on home ground. Tiziano Martella, Ruth Farrugia, Andrew Vella and Norbert Friggieri did a more than fine job with the visual effects, makeup and prosthetics. The same cannot be said for the very few CGI moments, especially the one in a certain junkyard. A particular shot in the film (pun intended) ended up being comical due to the amateurish CGI effects. Having said this, if we are to look at the film as a B-movie, then it actually works.
Light is also very intelligently and effectively used. A particular scene which stands out as particularly effective was when the breeder visits the pet-shop. He stands in the doorway, looks inside and interacts with the pet-shop owner. While the natural lighting in this scene drastically heightened its’ realism, natural back-light created an imposing silhouette of the breeder’s person, effectively obscuring his identity from the audience.
While the music chosen is interesting and generally helps move the story forward, unfortunately, it occasionally overwhelms the on-screen action. Audio leveling problems and mis-matching of low quality Foley sounds also occur every now and then throughout the film. While it can be assumed that most sounds couldn’t be recorded on location due to the immense sound pollution our island offers us, (thus forcing the sounds to be re-created in a sound-booth or other quiet location), many times sound effects used felt completely alien to the on-screen actions that supposedly created them. If three characters treading on a gravelly road omit a particular sound, once they enter an indoor location, the sound type and even pacing would be expected to change as necessary.
Generally speaking, one could honestly state that Breeder boasts a number of heartfelt performances by most actors involved. However, some characters had more depth to them than others. While all of the actors involved usually give authentic performances, every now and again they were caught struggling with weak lines, thus rendering their final performance lifeless or unintentionally funny.
The relationship between Sandra (Rebecca Paris), a no-nonsense, foul-mouthed private investigator, and her secretary Jennifer (Naomi Said) felt off. It is difficult for the audience to feel any of the intended chemistry between the two of them. Jennifer comes across as quite a bland, one-dimensional character. As does Alexandra Andrea’s character who we could never sincerely sympathize with. From her opening lines, “Għinuni please,” which she speaks with the tiniest hint of emotion, the chemistry between the three characters was nonexistent, ironically (in a gore-horror film) rendering this otherwise light scene one of the most difficult to sit through.
The best-written and most fleshed-out character of the three had to be Sandra. It is clear to us as an audience that Rebecca Paris was having a ball with this character and that she could understand where the character was coming from.
Said as Jennifer, on the other hand, kept on appearing embarrassingly lost whenever she had to utter a mandatory Ingliżata in each one of her sentences. This might be attributed to the fact that Jennifer’s character, while being diligent in her work (if not overzealous), is a thoroughly dull character who feels like she’s trying hard to be stereo-typically tal-pepe’ without actually being tal-pepe’. Real tal-pepe’ people are instantly recognizable by their accent, which Jennifer simply doesn’t possess. Thus her character is rendered uneven, silly and somewhat fake. Which is a shame, because after watching Naomi in other (theatrical) projects, one would have expected an actress of her caliber to be given a character with more substance which she could sculpt into the desired heroine the evil breeder would be worthy of.
Conversely, most performances are adequately intense and heart-felt. It is clear that all the actors involved took their roles seriously and do their best to immerse themselves in their respective characters. We are especially thinking of John Peel, (who today can be considered a television veteran), Joe Pace in his hilarious though subdued take on Freddie, a frustrated pet-shop owner with whom the breeder does his business, and Roderick Castillo, who is very capable of losing himself in his character’s fear.
Yet the most memorable performance comes from Kyle Sammut who embodies the perfect blend of comedy, fool-hardiness and naivety in the testosterone-driven Antonio, another of the Breeder’s unwitting victims. One doesn’t easily get over his proposal to his girlfriend to “Nieħdu waħda? La Baqría!” in the most inappropriate of circumstances ever.
The final twist is enjoyable, but needlessly over explained in the film’s final minutes. The film’s final part is inundated with unnecessary flashbacks and visual explanations which come over as the creators’ attempt to needlessly complicate the relatively straightforward story. And while the ‘prologue’ section at the end is extremely long and could do with a two-minute trim, the attractive chiaro-scuro lighting and the accompanying soundtrack make it worthwhile, just as the film’s brave character and beautiful look in general are a big part of why I plan to re-visit the Eden Cinemas in the coming weeks.
With all its flaws, for the most part,Breeder (2014)stands out as an effectively simple and entertaining B-gore slasher film. This doesn’t owe itself to any large budget, an A-list star-studded cast list, or any excessive local media fanfare. Instead, it’s the result of the love that was invested in it by an impassioned team who was quite grounded, and Vella being the consummate entertainer he is.
In this second part feature questioning the death of Maltese TV drama, Franco Rizzo looks at how the Maltese audience fits in the whole equation.
Before we start discussing the ‘TV Audience’, we need to try and understand what we mean by the term, and how it applies to a Maltese TV audience. Is it merely a group of consumers, whose interests and expectations are entertainment based and conventional, shaped by those in control of TV coverage? Or is it a collective of citizens who actively seek out material that is not just entertaining but also challenging? Although sometimes one perception of the Audience holds sway more than the other, in this day and age it’s not easy to draw a clear line between the two, especially due to the emergence of new media technologies and outlets. So instead of pinning down any definitions, we’ll be looking at the probable scenarios, which have a dominant influence of on the tastes and perception of a Maltese TV audience.
The Shrinking Audience Effect
TV audiences can no longer be considered a mass audience. Technologies such as cable, pay-per-view and video-on-demand have over the years meant a higher level of choice, and consequently, shrinking TV audiences. The global phenomenon of shrinking TV audience numbers is the result of a fast-expanding array and diversity of new media products, channels and platforms (1) that provide a varied selection of high-to-low-brow series, which in turn leads to audience fragmentation. Foreign broadcasters (both private and public) have tried to reverse the effects of this with quite a success, especially in their re-thinking of TV drama formats – Danmarks Radio’s Forbrydelsen (The Killing) is a formidable example.
Foreign broadcasters (both private and public) have tried to reverse the effects of a shrinking TV audience with quite a success, especially in their re-thinking of TV drama formats – Danmarks Radio’s Forbrydelsen (The Killing) is a formidable example.
In Malta, a strategy has yet to be planned – or, to be fair, is in the process of materialising – to address the shrinking audience effect, as a large number of Maltese audiences are increasingly resorting to dramas from other stations worldwide. But, as in the case of our PBS – and, most probably, of other local commercial channels – this strategy’s aim might be restricted specifically to the generation of revenue and profit and “a leading share of audience”(2), most of the time at the expense of quality. The PBS restructuring exercise, which occurred between 2004 and 2008, provides proof that any strategy under consideration must include a suitable and expedient financial bottom line.
The Audience as Consumers
The PBS restructuring exercise outlined in the National Broadcasting Policy of 2004 was driven by commercial more than by political or ideological reasons (3). It also meant a new financial methodology for PBS, which “involves two unconventional ways of financing a public service broadcaster: selling of airtime [to independent producers, especially prime-time airtime] and predominance of commercial income [like the sale of ad spots and tele-shopping] over public funds [license fees and government funds]”(4).
This dependence on commercial income has resulted in an adverse effect on content and a strict focus on the audience as consumers, especially when the following example is taken into account.
The total actual content of the above episode of Ic-Caqqufa – that is if the ‘previously on’ and the ‘next’ sections are not taken into consideration – amounts to around 38 minutes of running time, while the total time of adverts and sponsors amounted to around 31 minutes!
Other examples are found outside of the PBS context. It is true that we have moved away from the not-so-subtle in-programme name dropping of sponsors – e.g.: character A says, “Irrid nixtri libsa sabiħa, uff, x’se nagħmel?”, character B answers, “Itlaq kollox u tlaqna sa [name of sponsor], għax dejjem minn hemm nixtri!” Then again, you still wouldn’t expect a pop-up advert in the middle of the narrative, as happened in Becky The Return’s 1st episode! Another instance is when a particular Klikka Season 3 episode clocked to just around 25 minutes, while ads and sponsors took up 20 minutes of the average episode’s supposedly total running time.
It follows, then, that the focus is more on advertising rather than the actual quality of the drama series. It might also explain why producers steer as far away as possible from provocative subject material, for fear of an audience backlash – unless it is rendered in a sensationalist fashion – and/or of not getting enough sponsorship back-up. In the end, quality becomes something of a commodity, available only to those who can afford it.
The Consumer as a “Traditionalist”
It comes as no wonder then, that the Maltese audience is considered by producers and broadcasters to be somehow “traditionalist” in their viewing trends. They assume that since “traditionalists” have become so accustomed to mediocre productions for such an extended period of time, it led to an implicit understanding of the restrictions within which local drama producers work. Thus, the audience excuses the questionable quality of this work, and have gotten used to an excessive melodrama that harks back to the past, which contains simply-told but nonetheless convoluted – as opposed to complex and challenging – stories.
Another common assumption is that “traditionalists” consist mainly of the older generations, but do, in fact, include a veritable number of youth. A quick look at the comment threads of local TV drama Facebook pages bears witness to this mixture of generations.
Producers and broadcasters might easily dismiss “traditionalists” as being mostly uneducated, and resistant or fearful of change and complexity in audiovisual narratives, but this is not entirely the case. What they may lack is the skill to “watch carefully [and] think critically”(5) about whatever is projected on their TV screens. Again, this is through no fault of the audience’s, and, judging by the standard of Maltese TV drama narratives, some local producers exploit this lack to the full.
The Audience as Citizens
Danmarks Radio’s head of culture, Morten Hesseldahl, was quoted as saying that “[w]hen you are a public broadcaster, you not only want to educate the public, you want to help them to be wise”(6). Couple this with what physicist Brian Cox said, in an interview with The Guardian, “You can easily target your television way too low…I get told: ‘The audience won’t understand that,’ and I think that is bollocks…When I watch TV, if I understand every sentence, it means it’s below my intellectual capacity. So pitch higher”(7).
Broadcasting is not just about the “eyeballs on screen” (8) but also about the brains behind those same eyeballs. The same applies for the Maltese audience. As much as they opt for a night of easy-going, light entertainment – as is their right to do so – the Maltese do search for well-made, thought out spectacle, which may also engage them intellectually. That there exists a local following for series such as Homeland, The Walking Dead and Breaking Bad is clear proof of this.
As much as they opt for a night of easy-going, light entertainment – as is their right to do so – the Maltese do search for well-made, thought out spectacle, which may also engage them intellectually. That there exists a local following for series such as Homeland (pictured above), The Walking Dead and Breaking Bad is clear proof of this.
In Malta’s case, there needs to be a bigger element of trust in the audience, especially since they are becoming more empowered with “the availability of high-quality audio-visual production tools at affordable prices [if not for free]”(9).
When you realise that “the power structures in Maltese mainstream media, with their emphasis on ideological agendas over commerce, make the fans more likely to be blind followers than potential creative collaborators”(10), – such as when Facebook commentators heap praises upon praises on the local producers with barely, if at all, any constructive critical contributions – it comes to no surprise that the younger audiences are drawn towards other media sources.
A look at an article regarding the TV series that University of Malta students watch, in the October 2014 edition of The Insiter, is ample evidence of this growing trend, with not a single Maltese drama being mentioned. Even animated series such as Attack on Titan, Archer and Adventure Time were included in the list. Add to this the variety of subject matter, which these and other series listed in the article deal with, and you realise that local TV is not supplying enough for such a demand.
Attack on Titan.
The Citizen as a “Progressive”
Being attracted to novelty, challenging subject material, and engaged in fairly contemporary narratives that are rarely preachy, a number of Maltese audience members might consider themselves to be somewhat more “progressive” in their viewing trends than imagined by local producers and broadcasters. While they also do understand the restrictions encountered in local TV drama production, “progressives” expect local producers not to remain bound by these limits – not just in terms of financial limits, but, more importantly, also in the way a story is told.
Most of the Maltese TV drama does not cater fully to their tastes, so the audiences opt for alternative platforms – like cable TV or internet streaming – in search of foreign fare. They might even attempt to create something themselves if they possess enough imagination, resources, dedication and a pinch of stubbornness. But even then, which broadcaster will accept to showcase work that may be ‘too’ intelligent, challenging or controversial?
Some of them might wish that a change for the better occurs in Maltese productions. Others might be more individualistic, in the sense that they either don’t believe or don’t care any longer whether this change occurs or not – they are satisfied as long as their programme of choice meets their personal expectations and tastes, and is available through non-mainstream outlets.
Conclusion
While capital is a required asset, which helps achieving a proper standard of quality, I wholeheartedly disagree when capital, profit and audience shares trump the necessity of a proper standard of quality. The audience becomes just a number rather than a collective of individuals.
It also cannot be completely true that the audience is being given what it wants – that is simple-minded, sensationalist drama and entertainment. When the Maltese audience, since time immemorial, was only given a choice between a mediocre programme or a poor one, it had always been forced into picking one of the lesser of more than two evils, with the common reasoning being that “there’s nothing better on Maltese TV”.
Unless Maltese productions suddenly change tack and update themselves – as future audiences become increasingly fragmented and less critically uneducated – local TV drama will meet its unfortunate yet deserving demise, as the audience will move further away from the TV screens, in search of series that balance out their consumer appeal with a high standard of quality.
2) Exploring the Maltese Media Landscape (2009), ed. Borg, Hillman, Lauri, Allied Publications, p.68
3) ibid., p.64 – This chapter also takes an in-depth and academic look at the history and infrastructure of Malta’s PBS, especially its shift to a financially accountable and commercial model of broadcasting.
The European Parliament Information Office in Malta, in collaboration with the Euro Media Forum and AEDE Malta shall be presenting the LUX FILM DAYS 2014 – a three day film festival in Malta on the 5th, 7th and 9th November at St. James Cavalier, Valletta.
This year films will be also shown in Gozo on the 12th and 14th December at Don Bosco Oratory, Santu Wistin Square, Victoria. The Film Festival will screen the three finalist films in the run for the European Parliament LUX Prize Competition 2014. The public is invited to attend the Film Festival and participate for the second year by casting their vote for their favourite film. Entrance is free of charge. The films will be shown with English subtitles.
The three films portray diverse contemporary European social issues with a special focus on youth.
The three finalists are: Class Enemy (Razredni sovražnik) by Rok Biček, Slovenia
Due to a huge difference in the way they perceive life, the relationship between the students and their new German language teacher becomes critically tense. When one of the students commits suicide, her classmates accuse the teacher of being responsible for her death. The realisation that things are not so black and white comes too late. Girlhood (Bande de filles) by Céline Sciamma, France.
Oppressed by her family setting, dead-end school prospects and the boys law in the neighborhood, Marieme starts a new life after meeting a group of 3 free-spirited girls. She changes her name, her dress code, and quits school to be accepted in the gang, hoping that this will be a way to freedom. Ida, by Paweł Pawlikowski, Poland and Denmark
Poland 1962 Anna is a novice, an orphan brought up by nuns in the convent. She has to see Wanda, the only living relative, before she takes her vows. Wanda tells Anna that Anna is Jewish. Both women start a journey not only to find their family tragic story, but who they really are and where they belong. They question their religions and ideas they believed in. Both are trying to go on living but only one of them can.
St. James Cavalier, Valletta
Wednesday 5th November
Girlhood: 6pm
Ida: 8pm
Friday 7th November
Girlhood: 5pm
Class Enemy: 7pm
Sunday 9th November
Class Enemy: 6pm
Ida: 8pm
Oratory Don Bosco, Victoria, Gozo
Friday 12th December
Ida: 7pm
Class Enemy: 9pm
Sunday 14th December
Girlhood: 8.30pm
Reservations for Malta EP Lux Film Days at St. James Cavalier, Valletta onwww.sjcav.org /21223200
Reservations for Gozo EP Lux Film Days to: aedemalta@gmail.com / 99456851
It’s post number two in our #throwbackthursday series, and, this time, it is dedicated to the modern cult classic Donnie Darko.
Is it a drama? Is it an 80s teen comedy? Is it sci-fi? No! It’s Donnie Darko, a genre-bending indie flick that flopped upon release but slowly and surely garnered cult status, thanks to word-of-mouth, midnight screenings and impressive DVD sales (more than $10 million in US sales alone) (1).
You’ve got to know that one reason why it didn’t do well at the box-office was due to the fact that it was released in October 2001, about a month after the world-shattering 9/11 events. That Donnie Darko includes a jet engine smashing through the lead character’s bedroom consequently did not help the marketing of the movie at all. The same goes for the 6-foot-tall bunny rabbit predicting the end of the world – in exactly 28 days, 6 hours, 42 minutes and 12 seconds – and urging our teenager Donnie Darko to flood his high school or burn down the house of self-righteous new-age life coach, Jim Cunningham.
But what is Donnie Darko really all about? In the words of the film’s main star, a 21-year-old Jake Gyllenhall, “I have no idea”(2). And that’s what makes Donnie Darko highly enjoyable and boldly original.
In all fairness, the ominous feel of the film may also be due to the threat of the film unravelling under its own weight. Nevertheless, the then 26-year-old director Richard Kelly carries this weight admirably, a task he was not able to repeat with complete success in his sophomore effort Southland Tales, and The Box.
The casting choices for Darko can also be considered an asset which Kelly makes great use of. You would be forgiven to assume that this particular indie film might consist of a bunch of unknowns, but it actually boasts some interesting performances from Drew Barrymore, the late Patrick Swayze, and Noah Wyle of ER fame (quick side-note: the observant movie buffs among you will definitely notice some other familiar faces too – the judge from James Mangold’s Identity and an actor who is a frequent collaborator of Gregg Araki’s). In turn, these performances are also aided by the mystery and charm the story oozes, which is not heavily reliant on snazzy, multi-million VFX and/or camera work, but is wholly dependent in its intriguing, inherent ambiguity.
It is this ambiguity which secures Donnie Darko’s multiple viewings and endless interpretations. It could be seen as the hallucination of a teenager’s deteriorating mental health or a vision of a parallel, looping universe (3) or, according to Jim Emerson (4), a by-product of Donnie’s incestuous yearning for his older sister Elizabeth (quick side-note: don’t look at me that way, I didn’t come up with this theory!). In any case, in my humble opinion, I think that this cult hit is really all about how we sometimes doubt our commitment to Sparkle Motion in this very, very mad world.
PS: If you want your mind properly boggled, watch the original theatrical cut. If you prefer things to be more spelt out – or you have watched the original cut already, and are looking for answers (in vain) – the Director’s Cut is the one you should look for.
Games at the library, organized by the Institute of Digital Games at the University of Malta, will have its second and final display tonight at Notte Bianca, Valletta.
I always had a sort of perverse relationship with the uncanny side of life…objects which are alluringly peculiar. I’m not sure why, but the normal and consequently mundane never had a strong bearing on me, and so I’ve constantly found myself attracted to the inventive and sometimes bizarre elements in different forms of art, and even people.
Like many forms of art or craft, gaming can lie on either side of the scale, and I stand somewhere on the right. I’ll take the left side as being normal & conformist, right being totally inventive or absurd. Currently, I am in the process of selling my Xbox 360. In my head, there are very few proper games that fall closer to the right side of the scale, and I don’t see this changing with any of the new consoles. The ever growing conglomerates regulating these consoles are bound to become more and more conventional, suppressing new ways of expression and thinking by independent game developers. The same happens with Hollywood, and it may be a reason why so many writers and directors are moving away from it today. This is essentially Harold Innis’ concept of monopolies of knowledge in action.
(From top left) Fez, Braid, Limbo, and Portal…a handful of indie games that were worth playing on the Xbox 360. There are some others, but not a lot more worthy games to mention IMO.
But then last Saturday, I stepped into an old violet lit national library, transformed into a contemporary display space of ‘serious’ indie games. Already, the oxymoronic phrase ‘serious games’ compelled me to visit this display created for Science in the City last Saturday.
Setting up. Photo: William Cachia
But it was really the fact that it would be organized in a public library full of old dusty books that caught my attention. I mean, an old traditional library of all the places to host weird indie games? What were they thinking?
Photo: William Cachia
It’s this well thought barbarity to the conventional and expected which pushed me to see what the Institute of digital games came up with. I could not possibly miss this. And neither can you, tonight. Yes, the same free display of serious games will take place tonight at Notte Bianca.
You’ll have the opportunity to not only play serious indie games like Proteus, The Stanley Parable, Kentucky Route Zero, and Papers, Please, but you’ll also be able to learn about the function and concept behind their development.
The Stanley Parable, and Papers Please are my favourite two games on display. Both games make you reflect on your own actions when playing, albeit in different ways.
Play and learn about the development of Words Matter, an intelligent game developed by Institute of digital games researchers for the Ilearnrw project. for students with dyslexia to help them work on their reading and writing skills.
‘Words matter’. Photo: William Cachia
Boy playing ‘Words Matter’. Photo: William Cachia
If you’re already a fan of the novelty in the concepts offered in indie games, then this display will surely broaden your existing knowledge. If you’re a fan of conventional games like Assassin’s Creed, or shooters like Call of Duty, then this display will likely expand your horizons by challenging common assumptions associated with gaming. If nothing else, this display is a tribute to the vibrant artistic world of independent game development.
It took me a while to get around to watch Springbreakers as I was under the impression it was created for what can be best described as the Beiber generation. Bikini-clad Disney starlets Gomez and Hudgens flaunting themselves on the promotional pictures could have been what misled me. But, being, after all, a Harmony Korine film, I had to get around to it sometime. And I’m so glad I have. Springbreakers follows Faith (Selena Gomez), Candy (Vanessa Hudgens), Brit (Ashley Benson) and Cotty’s (Rachel Korine) attempt to freely “enjoy to the fullest” their youth through the teen-party scene, while escaping from the boredom of school life. The story is pretty straightforward, and the characters, especially those played by Benson and Hudgens are rather bland and one-dimensional.
Devil’s Experiment: First in the Guinea Pig Japanese Slash-Gore-Horror Series What do these films have that makes them so fascinating to watch, even after all these years? 70s and 80s gore-horror filmmakers’ motives were clear – they created mindless schlock – masterfully presented, sure to entertain. Rather than tackle contemporary world problems or comment on issues requiring intellectual investment, they reveled in broken bodies, severed limbs, despicable villains and heroes (many times in the forms of the attractive damsels in distress). And perhaps that’s why they stood the test of time.
The Eye Watch 