Century 2010: The Extraordinary Adventures of Adèle Blanc-Sec

Gah! This is one of those blu-rays that has a ‘forced’ subtitle; i.e., it’s part of the video stream instead of being a separate thing. Whyyyy.

Oh, it’s by Digital Factory. I guess that’s more digital.

I was so confused by the subtitles here. Jardin. Jaguar.

Ooh!

I love those ears. So Tardi.

The Extraordinary Adventures of Adele Blanc-Sec. Luc Besson. 2010.

I love Tardi’s comics. He’s a hugely influential person in European arty comics, and Adele is his goofy, commercial series. Still wonderful, of course.

So I never watched this film, because I thought it would totally suck. I mean, it’s Luc Besson. Could he possibly handle the weirdness of Tardi’s way of telling stories?

And the answer is… kinda? I mean, he retains way more of Tardi’s quirks than I would have thought possible. Tardi is pure comics; he’s not one of those people who structures his scenes around how they would look as movie adaptations. But those are the scenes that work, like that random observer guy. Those scenes are awesome, and are a direct steal from the comics.

What doesn’t work as well is when Besson adds love interests and the Indiana Jones scenes.

But it’s amazing how Besson was able to reproduce some characters and pieces exactly as they are in the comics, because Tardi isn’t exactly realist. I found myself going “whooa” and “aaaaah” several times.

But this is, as I assumed, not a good film. I totally understand why Besson turned Adèle into an action hero instead of a very irritable author who spends most of her time at home, but he could have made those adventures, like, better.

So I have no objectivity here. I veer from “why” to “yay” constantly, which makes for a weird experience.

The CGI hasn’t aged well. It’s so weird they didn’t do the pterodactyl with folded wings. It’s always standing there with the wings stretched out uncomfortably.

This blog post is part of the Century series.

Century 2009: Precious

Precious. Lee Daniels. 2009.

Hey, I bought this one twice.

Even if it won a couple of Oscars it’s not that bad! But the American convention of having adult actors playing teenagers is so weird. For the first few minutes I wondered why a woman in her mid-20s was attending junior high, but then (helpfully) she was called into the principal’s office who as-you-know-bob-ed her on her age (which was supposed to be 16) and I went oh.

The performances are fine, but it’s got some structural problems. Is it going to go all Dangerous Minds on us? What’s the timeline here? Has an hour passed or half a year? Why is Precious suddenly so erudite? What’s going on? Why are all these things happening to Precious? Why is the mother suddenly spilling the beans?

I liked the fantasy/reality thing, but I totally thought the last third of the film was entirely fantasy, with other fantasies embedded. Perhaps I was over-thinking it.

It’s a bit much.

This blog post is part of the Century series.

Concert Diary: Rockefeller

Dear concert diary.

Today I went to a Slowdive concert, mostly because Lost Girls were the opening act.

They were great, and so were Slowdive, but the experience was somewhat marred by the odour of the venue.

Rockefeller is the foundational concert venue in Oslo.

t’s always been somewhat whiffy: If you don’t stand in the middle of the floor, you’ll experience the olfactory delights of a beer-drenched carped that’s never been cleaned the last few decades (see picture above for why this happens: The venue shovels all “empty” beer glasses from the hardwood floor in front of the stage onto the carpeted wings before collecting the glasses).

But, dear diary, today was a brand new experience.

It’s been a few very warm weeks in Oslo, no doubt due to random weather fluctuations and not climate change at all.  But the stench that met us when we entered the venue was of a different kind than any we’ve experienced before.

Instead of the normal yeasty bouquet we’re used to, the non-hardwood parts of the Rockefeller venue smelled like a well-aged mixture of stale ale and diseased piss.

The urinal overtones of the venue were so overpowering that I almost tossed my cookies.  I was only able to hold on to the contents of my stomach by standing in the front of the stage, even though I am very tall and that, sensibly, annoys all people of normal height.

If only somebody, somewhere, perhaps the owners of the Rockefeller venue, would hire somebody to clean the carpet in the back of the venue, people would get less nauseated when visiting the place.

Dear diary, one can only dream.

Oslo, July 18th, 2018.

Century 2008: The Smiths: The Queen is Dead

The Smiths: The Queen is Dead. Derek Jarman. 2008.

What’s this then? Oh, it’s an “unauthorised” documentary about The Smiths focusing on The Queen is Dead.

I’ve seen a couple of these before. They’re made on the cheap… But this does actually have The Smith’s songs, so it’s not as no-budget as some of the others.

And, of course, nobody from the band appears (except Craig Gannon), and instead it’s a bunch of journalists, producers and other musicians talking about The Smiths.

The most interesting bits here is where the producer (Stephen Street) talks, I think. And Tony Wilson drops some fact bombs on money matters: If Morrissey hadn’t signed with Rough Trade, the entire 80s indie scene wouldn’t have happened in the UK, because the money just wasn’t there otherwise.

But it’s quite nerdy, and I like that. Especially the guitarist guy who explains what Johnny Marr was doing.

Your mileage may vary. If The Smiths didn’t destroy your teenage years, you may find this painfully boring.

This blog post is part of the Century series.