I have given up on these films as those are the most BORING and LONG WINDED YET SHALLOW film I have ever tried to watch. I felt totally isolated, disengaged and univolved with this so called film. Its either the director or the screenwriter who takes FOREVER AND A DAY TO GET TO THE POINT. And when they finally get to the point i am BEYOND CARING. I found it to be a real nightly chore to get through such a mountain of turgid prose littered with USELESS DIALOG and HALF BAKED CONCEPT. My condolences to both directors for the death of theIr future as director. I also apologise for such a unclear yet cruel not-even-a-review review that I cannot bear to hold any longer. Too much of this emotion inside my chest.

Directed by Derek jarman: Gay Director, died of HIV. His works includes: Sex Pistols's clips and The Smiths.
Soundtrack by Brian Eno: Half-God Musician.

Queen Elizabeth I time-travels to an apocalyptic punk future to witness the end of British society. In a nutshell, the film is more a cultural artifact than a narrative film in the classical sense. Derek Jarman's Jubilee immerses itself in the punk culture that cast an apocalyptic light on Britain in the late 1970s. Rather than the crass exploitation of this counterculture-movement's fashion statements and more accessible rock bands, this extremely avant-garde endeavor embraces the spirit, politics and aesthetics of the punk movement to the hilt, making the 25-year-old film something of a time warp experience.

Unfortunately, it doesn't translate very well into a feature-length cinematic production. Structured loosely around the intriguing premise of Elizabeth I time-travelling to a post-apocalyptic age to see what the future will bring for Great Britain, the film quickly abandons any sense of narrative continuity in favor of an increasingly random succession of episodes that communicate the punk ethos in one way or another. Certainly worthwhile for those interested in the period or viewers with fond memories of this bygone era, but to the more casual viewer, it's an inaccessible, chaotic mess that's more easily appreciated for its historical value than for its aesthetics.

Upon its release, Jubilee was met with criticism from participants in the punk movement, specifically, that it exploited punk for Jarman's own artistic profit, and that as an "outsider," he had no authority to represent punk. But punk's ownership and representation -- and its credibility -- have long been up for debate. Despite its investment in the working class, the movement has never shed its avant-garde, art-school associations and stylings. "Jubilee: A Time Less Golden," a documentary included in this DVD, gives a lot of consideration to this tension. As John Maybury (former London punk) observes, British punk was made up almost entirely of "upper middle class [kids] and aristos pretending to be commoners."

There were also tensions on the set between the "real" punk kids Jarman hired to fill supporting parts and the "real" actors playing the major roles. One of the actors, Jordan, was a 24/7 punk who worked at Vivienne Westwood and Malcolm McLaren's famous King's Road shop, "SEX":and Toyah Willcox, who was a classically trained actor fresh out of the National Theater. A number of the bands originally slated to appear in the film, like Siouxsie and the Banshees and The Clash, pulled out at the last minute, claiming the film commercialised the movement. But Kenny, drummer for the Banshees, does appear, as do The Slits and Adam Ant.

Perhaps most famously, designer Vivienne Westwood despised the movie, calling it "the most boring and therefore disgusting film" she had ever seen. I too, fell asleep two times when I watched this. Maybe it wont happened if I watched this in 1977 instead of now when punk is so outdated. However, I think Marie Antoinette is aesthetically a misplaced-rip-off of this movie (French culture - Punk Frenzy? Queen Elizabeth laughs out loud).

Minggu sore kemarin, saya, Oyong dan Juleha pergi menonton ballet kontemporer di Peacock Theatre. Kita datang seperti biasa telat 15 menit, mereka sudah menari di interval pertama yang judulnya "Sea of Tranquility," tapi semua rasanya pudar ketika masuk ke dalam ruangan rasanya kaya makan acid 10 biji. Berada di dunia monokrom, para penari memakai kostum hitam putih, tekniknya cahaya fluoresent sehingga kita seperti melihat orang orang berkaki satu, berkaki lima, berkaki enam menari, terbang, terbalik, berputar di udara seperti tidak ada gaya gravitasi. Rasanya hampir pingsan. Lalu kami istirahat sejenak menunggu interval kedua sambil makan eskrim jahe (huek). Interval kedua judulnya ''Bay of Seething," kita pindah tempat duduk ke depan, tapi kurang memuaskan, dan di interval ini menurut saya kurang breathtaking, tidak seperti interval pertama. Ada 2 penari dengan cahaya merah mereka nampak menyatu badannya, seperti manusia berbadan dua tapi tiba tiba menari sensual tapi aneh. Pokoknya sesi ini lebih naratif dan kelihatan bahwa itu manusia yang menari. Saya kurang suka apalagi wanita dengan bola. Namun sesi kedua ditutup dengan penari memakai baju hitam di cahaya hitam sambil menggerak-gerakkan kain yang di regangkan sehingga ketika penari bersatu, akan nampak seperti laba laba. Lalu acara selesai dan semua penari keluar dengan memakai baju renang lalu menari2. Lalu tirai di tutup. Menyesal tidak melihat interval pertama dari awal. karena interval keduanya kebanting gitu bo. Lalu kita pulang dan makan kebab enak.

I watched this movie yesterday night, i was so sleepy but for the sake of this marriage i got up the bed and took bus 187 to Vue with oyong talopo. Anyway, the movie sucks and so pointless and irresponsible. I dont care about the cinematography or whatever. Its about the 4th airplane that was hijacked by 20 terrorists on 11 September 2001, the one that was failed to reach on target. In the beginning of the movie, the hijacker is praying in arabics, they look very decent like people around us, dressing up in suits, polo shirts, jeans, so handsome like a prince, and obviously doesnt look like an osama bin laden fan. This movie is trying to describe the situation on the plane with 'documentary movie' style as if its the real world situation. Trying to prove the truth about terrorism whatsoever. Aargh. At the end, the passengers, the stewardesses plan to attack the hijackers, and retake over the plane. They fight and kill each other but the plane is crashed anyway at some park. The last scene is so depressing, the passengers call their families saying i love you because they are going to die, etc. I cried, but not because of the sappy i love you things. I heard the hijakers yelling Allahu Akbar 100 times, Laa ilaaha illallah 150 times. Astagfirullah I dont know how many times. The passengers pray in mostly Christian way. I cried because why do people have different faith. Why do people do this kind of thing. I cried because this movie will increase the misperception about Islam. For the reason that not all people are smart they might have 'what you see is what you get' system of thinking. There was a time when people see a man look-arabic-carrying-a-backpack with suspicion. Now after watching this movie, a handsome-arabic-look-business-man would might get a 'terrorist' written on his forehead. 11 September and terrorism are issues that are difficult to be explained. People do try to explain it and this movie is such a wrong explanation. Although the director said that this movie is for rememberance so there is no point, but i guess some memorabilia like this could produce an unexpectedly dangerous perception. I regret to say that bad movies are one of this world's biggest failure. Bad movie = bad education. At the end of the day, I was not sleepy anymore, too much anger inside me.

Michael Haneke's new film is about the two ways in which we experience life through the media: we learn from its truths, and we are influenced by its lies. Or perhaps the film is about something else – if there is one thing of which the filmmaker is fond, it is open endings. To answer one critic's question for the director, which Haneke would not acknowledge: Yes, the film could be about the Iraq War. But couldn't the insistence to dwell on the war apply such a relationship to most recent films?

The issue of open-ended stories and the ambiguous responses they allow is a frustrating problem in cinema. Aside from alienating audiences in need of resolution, they are sometimes so unconditional that all meanings are negligible. Inconclusiveness is also easily criticized as evidence of either a conceit or a cop out, and often there is doubt that some storytellers wouldn't be better off releasing a blank page or screen if they're inclined to be so indefinite.

Caché is not that broad, but rather is a multi-layered look into the home of Georges Laurent (Daniel Auteuil), his wife Anne (Juliette Binoche) and their son Pierrot (Lester Makedonsky)--a family weighted by secrets, lies and assumptive prejudices. The opening shot, a metaphoric view of their home surrounded by level upon level of elaborate housing developments and apartment buildings, gives hint of the film's multifaceted complexity. Haneke doesn't just communicate anything to be left up to the viewer; he stacks up many ideas for the viewer to pick through.

The literal contemplation is with the mystery of who is terrorizing this family with puzzling videotapes left on their doorstep. The first cassette is innocent although creepy, consisting of the single view that opens the film. Subsequent tapes are more intimate and implicit, accompanied by violent, crudely drawn pictures, suggestive of an American thriller plot. As accessible as the movie seems, Haneke constantly redirects the narrative away from such conventions via the reality of police (un) involvement and paranoia-induced red herrings.

Georges decides that someone from his past is responsible and confronts Majid (Maurice Bénichou), an Algerian who as a boy was adopted by Georges' parents. It turns out that Georges has some repressed guilt about wrongs he committed in his youth, and he thinks that Majid seeks to blackmail him. The development of their relationship is easily seen as an allegory for bigger issues of French and Algerian diplomacy, forever marred by a history that cannot be forgotten nor completely forgiven.

The problems with mitigation are not specific to France, though, and the characters can represent anything more personal to the audience, whether it is 9/11, slavery or the Holocaust. Some might even consider the recent release of Maurice Papon after only six years of prison due to health problems. The former French cabinet minister was convicted in 1998 of sending more than 1600 Jews to their deaths during World War II, a crime for which he has supposedly never shown remorse.

Papon, who served as Prefect de Police from 1958 to 1968, also figures into the massacre of October 17, 1961, where hundreds of demonstrating Algerians were killed, mostly drowned, by police in central Paris. That tragedy was covered up for many years by the state-run media, keeping the public in the dark by not releasing any facts or footage. Haneke was informed about the massacre by a 1992 documentary called Drowning by Bullets, and he was inspired to write Caché, using the calamity as its story's foundation while also referencing it as a moment where truth was hidden by the media.

This idea of the media's duty to show the truth is paralleled through the marital conflicts of Georges and Anne. A few times Georges is caught in a lie later exposed through the existence of the videotapes, saying one thing to his wife who then discovers the opposite on screen. He claims to lie or not tell her things because they do not concern her, but in doing so he fails to establish his trust in her and his trustworthiness to her.

The strange cassettes are reminiscent of David Lynch's Lost Highway, which also begins with Bill Pullman's character receiving tapes showing the exterior and interior of his house. During a police investigation he claims an aversion to video because he likes things, "how I remembered them. Not necessarily the way they happened." Georges, and the dishonest media, would probably paraphrase the quote as, "How I say things happened." Most people don't have the luxury of such mysterious revealing, but the film isn't exactly a proponent of spousal spying. The point is in the importance of cameras as witnesses, not as surveillance but of news.

When the media lies to the public, or manipulates the truth using selective editing, it can have a very negative influence. When the videos change from single shots to involve cutting, compiling only a few simple locations, they direct Georges' thoughts toward memories of Majid. The images are powerful enough to arouse his suspicion without any literal indication. Eventually paranoia seeps in and Majid winds up blamed for more than the creation of cassettes and drawings.

Haneke appears to follow Godard's theory that every edit is a lie. Caché primarily consists of unbroken scenes made up of only one shot each, and at one point Georges, the host of a television talk show, conceals part of a guest's statements by cutting a segment in post-production. The filmmaker's preference for long takes allows for less manipulation and at the same time gives the audience a great appreciation for Auteuil and Binoche's uninterrupted performances.

Whatever additional observations exist in Caché, personal connections may be as responsible for individual experiences with the film as they are for Georges' intolerance, so that Haneke turns his judgment of the character toward the audience too. Interpreting the film as an allegory for the Iraq War creates both an understanding of how Americans were duped into supporting the conflict and also an acceptance of being no better than the duped for making such an easy association. The filmmaker, himself, is not even innocent of his own contempt, his work not free of lies (edits) or hidden truths (open endings). But surely he is aware of his own power to present fact and falsehood and it would be fair to assume that Haneke wishes to learn from and be influenced by his own media right along side us.

(cinematical.com)

Despite the headache this film has caused me-no music no motion, this is one of the greatest intellectual movie in 21th century (yes, without the headace I would rate this film five stars)

cowboy, american icons: american superiority, gay: problema minoritas. mr. foucault would love this. tapi bukan itu intinya kenapa film ini begitu unforgettable. one of the best, so far. menusuk ke hati jauuuuuuuh sekali, lamaaa sekali ilang sedihnya. dont mind the slowness of the movie, justru itu yang bikin ikut masuk ke filmnya. ang lee hebat. we've all got a brokeback mountain somewhere in our lives, says ang lee. "It's a part of human nature to fear desire and to lose control, and so we begin to indulge in self-denial. self-denial leads to darkness . . . because it shuts out truth, and then, you have nothing but the darkness, and regret, and the memory of what might have been," he says. "brokeback mountain is a romantic symbol of what we fail to attain. It's about loss. It's about fear. it's about the illusory quality of love."

awalnya jijik tapi lama2 jadi terharu, simpati. prosesnya cukup hebat. dan akhirnya aku jatuh cinta. sepanjang film hatiku bingung memilih, oh how i desire both of you. hehe. 100x ku tonton pun tak akan bosan (logat medan)

great great great movie. woody allen at his best. tricky drama. gak tipical hollywood. gak heran dibikinnya di london seperti halnya closer. hidup londoners. hehe. tapi ada suatu bagian gak penting, permainan dengan dasi dan 2 hantu muncul di dapur. harus nonton, pasti ketawa sendiri. abis filmnya selesai juga kalo inget pasti ketawa sendiri. kesian si nenek.

Bar Academy Saturday
When you're already suffering from sad, it hardly seems the best time to head to a club called Feeling Gloomy. The weekly night of melancholy pop and bedroom anthems (think carthartic anthems from The Smiths to Scissor Sisters, The Kinks to Kylie, Blur to The Libertines, not to mention a miserable in house band: The Miserabilist ) faced the festive challenge head-on. Their Christmas Party broke new ground by featuring special guest DJ Iris and Marge, otherwise known as the host and local DJs Len and Cliff's mums. 'There were a few backstage nerves but once they got out there they were real pros,' adds Cliff, 'and they brought the house down when they played 'Ace of Spades' by Motorhead. We could hardly get them off the desk after that.' Eww.

Gloomy? Well, sometimes, but cold? not in those cardigans! Iris and Margo don't do chill.

Emm...Imagine your mum there. Oh what a world today!

SWEET MEMORY SOUND host by DJ Derek
As you probably know by now, the man is not your standard turntabelist: he used to be an accountant, has a major cardigan habit and is in his late 50's. And still DJ Derek, continues to blow away audiences with his unique selections. This ska and reggae maestro creates an unusual act - a middle aged white man in a suit and tie who MCs in Jamaican patois and has an incredible collection of 26,000 reggae and ska tracks all transferred from vinyl to mini disk.

For Djs, is this how the future look like? Hope not.