Showing posts with label Apollo mission. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Apollo mission. Show all posts

Tuesday, 29 October 2013

Rocket-launchers and The Middle East

A rating / Festival review of The Lebanese Rocket Society (2012)

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2013
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)





54 = N : 10 / M : 8 / C1 : 11 / C2 : 7 / E : 11 / F : 7

A rating / Festival review of The Lebanese Rocket Society (2012)


N = narration / script

M = material / use of material

C1 = cinematography

C2 = cohesiveness

E = effects / music

F = feel


9 = mid-point of scale (all  scores out of 17, 17 x 6 = 102)



The Lebanese Rocket Society (2012) is a curious film : as if it were not enough to have the achievements of that society commemorated in the film by a scale-model erected at Haigazian University (formerly College), it goes on to end (Disjunction 4) with an animation, which imagines (counterfactually) that the society went on, and continued where the Voyager mission left off, with gold discs sent into space. (Reasons are given why the society became part of the military, and was later closed down : an international incident concerning Cyprus; an accident when propellant was being mixed; and pressure from the French government, amongst others.)

Maybe this animation did not originally belong with the film (I can easily conceive of it as a quite separate celebratory screening on Lebanese t.v.), or maybe it would have been better as a fantasy beginning to the film, rather than the voice of the film-makers Joana Hadjithomas and Khalil Joreige, saying, in a puzzled voice, that they were born in the months either side of the Apollo Moon landings, so how did they never hear about this rocket society ?

In fact, I am told, they said to Professor Manoug Marougian (who led the society until he went back to Texas in 1968, not wishing, he said, to be drawn in by other interested powers) that they had first seen the commemorative postage-stamps (only mentioned later, and not, as I recall, shown), and had wanted to find out more. At the outset, then, these seemed something dressed up about visits to archives that had empty film-cans, and very little footage, and about the whole notion of just tracking down Professor Manougian (in Tampa, Florida) and forthwith going to see him (Disjunction 1).

If you can bear that they would have been in contact after Google and before going, and so would have known already what he had kept and handed over to them, then so good, but it seems a bit too much like a telling a story to an uninqusitive child. On the other hand, showing that what Google Images came up for 'Lebanese rocket' were not space rockets did make the point that no one was remembering rockets in those terms. What Manougian did not appear to have to hand over was all the footage that had been absent so far, and the film simply abandoned the idea of looking for the materials for simply presenting and explaining them as if it were self evident how Joreige and Hadjithomas had come by them (Disjunction 2).

At the time when the chronological story has been more or less told (Disjunction 3), we learn of the scale-model, and that the owner of the factory making it is nervous, in case permissions were needed to create something that looks like a rocket. In terms of us watching the film, we have no notion of how it has not been thought to obtain these permissions (not least if others had been funding it), and again, feeling a little false, we are shown top government officials (before the government falls) agreeing on screen to grant them (or that they are not needed).

Then the very impressive installation of the model rocket, which was supposed to be carried to the former launch-site on the coast and from there to the university (but of which, with no explanation, we only see the latter), and the final disjunction (already mentioned). The film did not need all these stages, but it seemed unwilling to tell any part of the story slowly and in full, and concentrated too much information - too much intense reading of subtitles - in the short period after the film-makers have met Professor Manougian.




Unless stated otherwise, all films reviewed were screened at Festival Central (Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge)

Tuesday, 13 August 2013

Bowie cuts a dash - or Leave 'em wanting more, Ziggy

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2013
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)


13 August

I am not so sure that the (V&A) Victoria and Albert Museum has always been - or given the impression of being - a museum of art, design and performance. No matter.

If it is one, then why not David Bowie is, and, one wonders, what will be next when this has been the most successful exhibition ever ?* I had not endeavoured to catch it in the flesh (even if that had been possible). However, perhaps I had not been given enough idea how ambitious and adventurous it was, until two of the curators (or it may just have been a co-curator who was shown on film), Victoria Broackes and Geoffrey Marsh, presented the live relay to-night.




Popular exhibitions are often quite a lot more choked than we were given an impression of, and, for that reason, I tend to avoid the irritation of unwanted bodily contact, the neck-craning, and the sheer exhaustion that builds up when one has to look at it all in one go, so this was an ideal glimpse. Glimpse, because one's not going to see everything, and maybe makes a mental date with Paris in 2015 to look at it then.

I speak quite personally, but costumes without anyone in them say little to me, whereas The American Museum's display of Marilyn Monroe gowns and other objects that she had come close to or owned had the advantage of stills and clips from films - I am not saying that this one did not, but I was left cold by seeing the outfit that Bowie had worn to perform 'Starman' on t.v. Partly because, as with that for it and for 'Ashes to Ashes' and others (I was cheated of any more than hearing 'Let's Dance'), I remembered seeing it, partly because the handiwork looked faded, jaded, unreal, a bit like a sloughed-off skin, it said nothing much to me, whereas we dwelt on it and enthused.

If this was truly a thematic approach to presenting different aspects of Bowie, then the inter-titles really did not signal very well that it was being taken, and so I could not fathom why we suddenly jumped forward to the Union Flag frock-coat from Earthling (an album from 1997 that I admire, so it was a shame to get so little sense of it). Then we jumped back, and hardly came anywhere near until footage from Glastonbury in 2000.



Curiously, too, we spent a few minutes on how the cover of the album 'The Next Day', but - as I do not yet know it - I had no notion whether I was being played any of it. In one breath, decades of a career as performer**, song-writer, actor were being celebrated, but it felt as though the last decade and a bit were, by omission, being written off. I do not know if that is a fair impression, but it was the one that I got - if others felt at any level that recent projects or work were not being endorsed by this event (whatever the exhibition might do), at least that balance was redressed to an extent by the guests whom Marsh and Broackes brought to the Nineteen Eighty-Four podium, complete with 'breaking the rules' quotation along the front edge.

Of these, Jarvis Cocker was most persuasive, whereas Kansai Yamamoto seemed to wander into a forest of incoherence of his own making, whence we could barely hear his voice. Christopher Frayling commended most highly Bowie's acting in The Man who Fell to Earth (1976), which again unfortunately suggests that he might as well have spared his efforts since, as that is a while ago (at least, though, he did not mention Absolute Beginners (1986), whose source had been waved at us...). Much more than this, the enthusiasm of talking heads from what seemed to me members of the public (against an uncrowded display) was telling.



Overall, I was very pleased to have seen this very high-quality relay. What did lessen my enjoyment of many of the videos was the V&A branding, with banners either side, and a compression of the image into a square (in one case, maybe to the detriment of the aspect ratio), for what I love best about film is that it seems to disappear into nothing at the edges, and this treatment made it less than immersive. Bowie's ambition and self-belief were strongly stated, but we had no evaluation at all of that beautifully distinctive quality to his singing voice.

Still, maybe there was too much to say in 90 minutes, although I would have thought that the concentration on his handwriting, writing techniques and skill could have tempered by mentioning the delivery of the lyrics (or the strength of his music (against his words), or how it has been variously realized...).



End-notes

* Yet I remember that there had been timed tickets when the tapestries from St Peter's that had been made from the Raphael Cartoons came to London, and also that I could not get into the William Morris show.

** At some point early on, he seemed to have played tenor sax - at least, was photographed holding one. What could his sax tone have been like, and do people rate him as a guitarist (again, no comment to-night) ?




Unless stated otherwise, all films reviewed were screened at Festival Central (Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge)

Monday, 13 February 2012

Crowds outside Houston's hotel (according to AOL®) (1)

More views of - or after - Cambridge Film Festival 2011
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)


13 February

So why does Whitney Houston become known by her surname when she's dead? I don't mean it irreverently, but I am inescapably reminded of the Apollo missions:

Do you read me, Houston?


And what makes for 'crowds', distinct from a 'crowd', in this case? Does it just sound better, does it fit the space where 'Huge crowd' might not (actually, there is room)?

And these people - are they being mournful or macabre, wanting to be the first to book into the room where she was found dead? (And I'm sure that there were those who did the same with Sid Vicious - or who want to stay in Hemingway's suite at the Danieli.)

Perhaps they are respectful, perhaps they will endow a fund so that the room can be permanently be set up as a shrine and reverentially visited by bona fide fans...

In any case, who can forget the singer looking so in need of being rescued in Costner's arms*?


End-notes

* By the looks of it, Kevin has had a pretty hard time of it: poor lad had the misfortune to cohabit with Elle MacPherson for a while, and his fraternity, of all things, was Delta Chi! Still, at least his wife designs handbags, for which I'm sure that we're all grateful, and he apparently took her for a ride in a canoe after their wedding ceremony - no doubt inspiration for a whole range of bags...