Boyhood and the exquisite pleasure of now

I don’t remember a point in the last ten years when I saw a particular film more than once in a cinema. I must have done so since the new millennium but I am struggling to think when and what it would have been. This contrasts with my heady and unhealthy student days of the late 90s when I would regularly visit the wonderful City Screen in York to see some obscure piece of art-house fare. And if I liked what I saw, as I often did, then I would frequently go again the next day. This was less to do with a raw passion for the cinematic medium but rather I had little better to do, or at least could spare a few hours to sink into the not-overly-comfortable seats and disappear. And plus it was really cheap. I remember I saw a screening of Der Himmel uber Berlin on two consecutive days; the first time with a pal, and the next trying to impress some girl (who was so resolutely unimpressed that she fell asleep within ten minutes). I also saw Kenneth Branagh’s four-hour uncut 70mm rendition of Hamlet THREE times in that cinema because I found it utterly wonderful and, as the two regular readers of this blog will know, I do sort of LOVE Kenneth Branagh with a singular passion. Plus Hamlet as a text is, you know, pretty alright.

However I really can’t think of a time where such multiple cinema visits to the same film have occurred this century. That is until this past week when I’ve had the utter pleasure of seeing Richard Linklater’s Boyhood being twice projected onto a large screen.

Boyhood-poster-I-

I’ve written before about mine and Jimmy’s adoration of Linklater’s Before trilogy and so I was very much coming at this as a fan; despite this I don’t think anything could have prepared me for what was, hyperbole aside, one of the most moving, humane and unpretentious pieces of storytelling I’ve ever seen.

The premise is brilliantly simple: Linklater filmed the same set of lead actors for a couple of weeks every year for twelve years and thus when edited together the audience is able to watch them grow. The eponymous boy is Mason who we first meet lying on the grass outside his primary school and whom we leave on his first day at university. The effect is almost overwhelming as we are confronted by the sheer speed with which time passes, the bewildering consequences of choice, both good and bad, the twin pride and terror of parenthood and the astounding capacity that we have to survive and even thrive in the most trying of circumstances.

Boyhood-Ellar-Coltrane-Ethan-Hawke

Linklater’s direction is, of course, sublime and on second viewing I was able to enjoy shot after shot of his typically unfussy style. There is one shot during Mason’s high school years in which he talks to a classmate who bumps alongside him on her bike. They talk, they walk forwards and the camera stays one step ahead of them moving backwards. No cuts, no singles, just a backwards tracking two-shot that seems like it had to be done in one take. You can see this shot again and again in the Before films and it is suggestive of a director utterly confident in his own craft. A scene requires two characters to have a conversation so Linklater just lets the camera do only what is necessary to allow us to witness what is being said. Anything else would be artful and extraneous.

I am no film academic and if you want a near-definitive account of Linklater’s work then look no further than our pal Professor Rob Stone’s excellent book: The Cinema of Richard Linklater – Walk, don’t Run. Rob is clearly a man of vast intelligence and insight (as well as being pleasingly ready to take the piss out of Jimmy’s levels of personal hygiene) and he writes with a rigorous passion for Linklater’s work and succeeds, through a jealousy-inducing series of interviews with the man himself, in exploring the films in comparison with each other as well as illuminating the many and diverse films that have influenced him throughout his career. It’s a great read. I recommend it heartily.

As Rob explores with greater insight that I could ever muster, time does not really work in a conventional way in Linklater’s films. This is particularly the case in Boyhood which despite seemingly locked into a structure that forces its audience to confront time in all its unflinching and relentless forwards motion, paradoxically removes its characters from a temporal context almost completely. This is a film of the moment, a film of now. There is very little in the film that looks backwards and that which looks forward is only the usual cliche of expectation that others force upon Mason. What any of the characters really aspire to in the film is making sense of the current moment; that is all that really matters. No film I’ve seen in a long time is as preoccupied with the present. And it is all the more refreshing for it. The only false moment in the whole near-three hour wonder of the film is when there is a moment of narrative resolution for an immigrant builder whom we’ve seen, briefly, in an earlier scene. For me this felt like a misstep; a nod to the conventional story arcs that Linklater so successfully eschews in the remainder of the piece.

Anyway, I’ve started to use words like “eschew” so it is probably time to stop banging on. But I urge you to see Boyhood. I implore you so to do. It really is most wonderful.

There’s a line very near the end of the film in which a character says something approximating that in life it isn’t really a case of seizing the moment, it is more that the moment seizes you. I think that is utterly beautiful and no better epithet for the wondrous strange thing that is all of our lives. Just keep letting the moment seize you, says Linklater. And you’ll be okay.

p.s. I think I love Ethan Hawke just as much as Kenneth Branagh now. Even Ethan Hawke with a terrible moustache.

p.p.s. High Tide is VERY NEARLY finished. More news very soon.

p.p.p.s. We have been working some more on the screenplay for our second feature film. Jimmy is not letting me get away with anything remotely rubbish – my favourite comment from his recent edits – “is this a reference to old vaginas? If so, I don’t get it”.

p.p.p.p.s. It wasn’t. But now I kind of wish it had been.

A High Tide update (at last!)

I fear that this latest entry in to the world of blog may be a little more terse than I’d otherwise like. This is most likely a blessing for you but at the moment I am banging at the keyboard like a fat-fingered  Beethoven (with one millionth of the talent) and the words refuse to stick. I am tired. It has been a busy few weeks in one of my other lives as a maker of theatre and a show that I co-wrote successfully made it to the stage this week. And it was great. Really great. But I am suffering a little tonight as a result.

So let’s bash on with a a bit of a Long Arm Films update. It has been a more than while and we don’t want our many supporters to think that Jimmy and I have just been sitting on our arses playing Uno for the past six months. Although that does sound like a pretty decent idea.

After several more sessions in Dan’s edit bunker in the posh end of Swansea I can tell you that High Tide is pretty near finished.  And it is looking good. Really good. Don’t believe me? Well. look at this:

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That’s Sam Davies as Josh and Melanie Walters as Bethan.

Actually looking at it now, it’s a fairly low-res, grainy still that I’ve just grabbed using some keys on my computer. I am not allowed access to the actual, full-res digital files because I might spill tea or red wine on them so you are going to have to trust me on this. Jimmy and I now have a weekend to pore over this latest draft while the film itself crosses the Severn for some digital jiggery-pokery (and final, final tweaks) and sound mixing in the Bristol area before heading back to Wales for colour-correction. All of which should suggest that High Tide is very nearly, nearly finished. And that’s a good thing.

And at some point you should be able to see it. The specifics of which I will bring you as soon as I can.

Meanwhile, my new role is to write the credits for the end of the film. So then, that’s writer, director and credit writer – which makes High Tide such an indie film that it is wearing a checked shirt;  a yellowed, crumpled paperback stuffed into the pocket of its corduroy jacket while it whispers near-inaudible dialogue into the ear of a attractive student of philosophy with glasses and near-perfect breasts. With this soundtrack:

Which you won’t have heard of. But I love with a passion.

Anyway,  I am certain David Lynch does not have to write his own credits (but that’s probably because he’d scrawl them in the blood of a vixen or Kyle Maclachlan) but I am pretty happy with the job. Except that I have to spell everyone’s names correctly and remember who leant us a hairbrush and made us a coffee somewhere on Gower last August.

But I think I’ve got it cracked. Here’s the current draft.

Bethan – Melanie Walters
Josh – Sam Davies
Tess – Claire Cage
Sophie – Charlotte Mulliner
Bloke in Shirt with Fag – Cousin Tom
Simon Le Bon – Mickey Flannel
Jennie Spinning – Rufus Waring
Man in Sauna – Sarah Cloud
Body in Sauna – Desert Orchid
Whore in Sauna – James Gillingham
Sauna Repair Man in Sauna – Alan Titchmarsh

DOP – Alain Prost
Sound – Dougie Donnelly
Gaffer – Janet Ellis
Edited by Dan in his bunker

Written and directed by Big James and Little Jim.

Sorted. Time for some sleep. More updates when I have them.