A Liar’s Autobiography – LFF 2012

 

A few years before he died, Graham Chapman recorded a a kind of audiobook detailing some of his experiences embellished with flights of pure whimsy. Now, in 2012, these recordings have enabled Chapman to become the star of a new animated feature attempting to bring some of his story to the big screen. Starting with an audio clip of Chapman asking for his thirty seconds of abuse, it then moves to a sort of framing device in which he forgets his lines on broadway, promptly collapses and hits his head provoking a surreal odyssey through his life so far. Boasting three director credits (one of whom being Bill Jones – son of Terry) and the work of fourteen different animation studios the film uses many different animation styles and techniques.

It is perhaps a matter of aesthetic taste but some of the animation styles serve their subject matter better than others. The seeming lack of motivation for the switching between styles lends the film an episodic felling which prevents it gaining any real traction and is often more of a distraction than something that brings any kind of artistic contribution. Undoubtedly, much of the animation is good, solid work but taken as a whole it fails to come together in any meaningful way.

It also doesn’t really help that it ends up being fairly light on the autobiographical detail so that anyone with even a cursory interest in all things Python or even just having been raised in the UK over the past thirty years isn’t going to hear anything they didn’t know already. Even the darker elements of Chapman’s life are glossed over in an ‘all jolly good fun, ho ho ho’ sort of way rather than engaged with any kind of insight.

Thirdly, it really just feels as if it’s trying way too hard. Unfortunately it misses the effortless silliness of Monty Python that’s the best example of English whimsy and winds up feeling by turns juvenile and laboured. Crushingly, it’s sometimes as if the animation seems superfluous where Chapman’s voice alone might have done the job better as the animation just isn’t really adding anything into the mix. Slightly gimmicky things like casting Cameron Diaz as the voice of Sigmund Freud initially scream ‘genius!’ but prove too on the nose and collapse under the weight of their own absurdity.

That’s not to say it’s a total disaster – it is moderately enjoyable and at times quite funny, just not quite as much as it seems to think it is. It felt very much like the sort of of British grown up animation that was commoner in the ’90s but forced into the biopics mode that’s really popular with BBC4. Possibly, it may have worked better on the small screen in one of the lighter documentary spots but as a big screen experience it fails as either a documentary or an entertainment film. Diverting rather than a must see.

At the European gala screening we were treated to a few actors playing various Graham Chapman roles such as King Arthur/Brian beforehand and a pop up (literarily) performance from the London Gay Men’s choir during the film’s musical interlude. Something of a curate’s egg but worth seeing.

Attack the Block – Review

In Joe Cornish’s debut feature film, Attack the Block, aliens have suddenly begun to crash land on a South London estate, and following their first encounter with the inhabitants are definitely not coming in peace. It’s Bonfire Night, and nurse Sam (Jodie Whittaker) is walking home later than expected. Finishing a phone call she encounters one of those things we all dread in such occasions, a gang of rowdy youths blocking the road. She crosses over, some of them follow her, she decides to keep going when the leader of the gang approaches and asks for the phone, she hesitates and he releases a flick knife. Now he wants her purse, and her ring, but the ring won’t come off so he tries to force it and knocks Sam to the ground. Just then something appears to fall onto an adjacent car and explode. What was it, a firework maybe? The thugs approach but whatever it is wounds their leader and takes off, so off for revenge they go and our whole sorry tale begins.

This film looks absolutely fantastic, and its direction is totally assured especially for a first time filmmaker. Technically speaking everything about it is impressive and Joe Cornish has definitely succeeded in transferring into a new medium with immense skill, marking himself out as someone to watch. However, there are times when the film does not quite come together, or perhaps just narrowly misses out on transcending good to great, notably the end which is very abrupt (but perhaps in keeping with the nature of the film). The cast of mostly unknowns who make up our group of anti-heroes all give very fine and convincing performances, especially Moses, the leader whose arc is most central to film, excellently played by John Boyega. The depiction of life on the estate feels very authentic, down to the inclusion of current street slang and the film avoids patronising either its characters or the audience with stereotypical or reactionary attributes. There are a few misfires, such as Luke Treadaway’s middle class stoner, loser, zoologist desperately trying to fit into this concrete jungle and ending up becoming a walking plot point and inconsistent comic relief. Similarly Nick Frost’s small role is sometimes more of a distraction than anything else. That said, this is definitely the most enjoyable and accomplished British film for quite some time. If it doesn’t quite live up to some of the hype it’s not through want of trying and it will be surprising if this doesn’t end up becoming another cult hit in years to come!