24 November 2024

The Debutante by Leonora Carrington - Animated

A spirited young woman convinces a hyena from London Zoo to attend a dinner dance in her place, an idea that demands both creativity and unexpected acts of violence. Inspired by a story by artist Leonora Carrington, Elizabeth Hobbs brings this striking tale to life using paint and collage.

The Debutante is a film by Elizabeth Hobbs, produced by Animate Projects with the support of the BFI, National Lottery funding, and with thanks to the estate of Leonora Carrington.  This animated short very safely passes the Bechdel Test even if I’m uncertain whether inter-species dialogue counts.  Never mind, it’s fantastic.  The animation suits the narrative superbly (it's as crazy as the story).  I also very much liked the voices used, particularly the knowing tones of Joanna David, who you might know from her appearances in Miss Marple, Foyle's War, Rumpole of the Bailey, Inspector Morse, Midsomer Murders, The Darling Buds of May and Rosemary & Thyme.

Strangely, I was only vaguely aware of Leonora Carrington until recently, when I read the hugely engaging novel about women surrealists by Kathy Hopewell, Swimming with Tigers.  The sheer serendipitous synchronicity of stumbling across this glorious animation on Vimeo, having just “discovered” the artist made me scratch my head a little, at least until it turned into an olive.  

Although Carrington is not in Swimming with Tigers, events from her life do form the basis of some of its goings on.  You can read my review here and visit Hopewell’s website here.

23 November 2024

Dolomites Timelapse

During a brief yet immersive road trip through the breathtaking Dolomites, filmmaker Christopher Dormoy captured a series of mesmerizing timelapses, showcasing the natural rhythms of this majestic mountain range. His primary focus was on the fluid, dynamic motion of clouds as they danced across the rugged terrain, highlighting the interplay between the sky and the dramatic landscape below.

The Dolomites, known for their stunning geological formations and ever-changing weather, offered Dormoy a canvas of surprises and visual splendor. Through his lens, the movements of air and clouds appear almost alive - organic, fluid, and harmoniously intertwined with the contours of the mountains. These shifting patterns of nature, both rapid and intense, reveal a timeless relationship between the elements and the environment.

Dormoy’s work doesn’t just document a location; it captures an essence. By isolating these fleeting moments in motion, he transforms the Dolomites into a dynamic spectacle, a vivid reminder of the beauty and power of the natural world. His timelapses are more than a visual treat—they are a celebration of the mountains' ever-changing character, offering viewers a glimpse into the breathtaking synergy of earth and sky. It’s hard not to agree that Dormoy has immortalized a vision of extraordinary beauty, making the Dolomites feel both untamed and profoundly serene.

Beyond

Beyond tells the poignant story of a small yet determined hero navigating a transformative journey from isolation to belonging. Along the way, he encounters diverse and fascinating creatures and explores a variety of captivating environments. Each new opportunity presents a chance for growth, yet he struggles to follow where others are heading, constrained by his own limitations. Despite these challenges, his unwavering spirit propels him forward, guiding him toward a community where he finds true acceptance and peace.  Beyond is a film by Ambient Press.

Drawing inspiration from archetypal narratives like Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha and Homer’s Odyssey, Beyond underscores the power of resilience and self-discovery. It explores universal themes of overcoming adversity, battling inner darkness, and persisting through periods of despair. At its core, the story illuminates the path to personal peace and fulfillment, celebrating the importance of determination in forging one’s own unique journey and finding a place where one truly belongs.

Through its layered storytelling, Beyond becomes a universal metaphor for the human quest for connection, purpose, and inner resolve, resonating with anyone striving to overcome life's trials and carve out a meaningful existence.

765874 – Unification: A Groundbreaking Star Trek Reunion That Redefines Legacy

765874 – Unification is the farewell between Kirk and Spock that we didn’t get at the end of Star Trek: Generations.  However, to mark the 30th anniversary of the film, OTOY, collaborating with William Shatner and the estate of Leonard Nimoy, have created this remarkable short film.  Kirk and Spock are reunited in their last moments using cutting-edge CGI and de-aging technology.


The original films did not offer any kind of emotional closure between the two characters – and so this short explores how this might come about.  Actor Sam Witwer steps in as a young Kirk, and Lawrence Selleck for Spock.  Enhanced with superb visual effects and 3D scanning, the two are brought back for their last goodbye.  This is GCI and live-action blended to achieve an almost perfect recreation of our beloved characters.

While there is a continued debate about using modern technology to de-age actors – and even bring them back from the grave – I think most Star Trek fans will react to this in an overwhelmingly positive way (I know I certainly did).  It gives us a new last contact between the characters that does not defy or change cannon, and is pitch-perfect in its delivery. Thank you to all involved!

Krampus – Santa Claus’ Secret Weapon

The song lyrics have never been truer.  Oh You better watch out,  You better not cry,  You better not pout, I'm telling you why.  Yet it isn’t Santa Claus that you have to watch out for – it is his sinister sidekick – Krampus. He has a whip – and he is going to use it.

What on earth has this creature of the night – more orc than elf – to do with Christmas?  If you have children you may well be aware of the mantra – if you don’t behave then Father Christmas won’t bring you anything.  The idea behind Krampus is similar – only the threat is not that Santa won’t bring them anything but that Krampus will whip them in to the New Year.

2 November 2024

Swimming with Tigers by Kathy Hopewell - a Review

 
I am going to start off with a straightforward statement about Swimming with Tigers, the debut novel by Kathy Hopewell. Read it.  If you enjoy the fictionalised literary history of the likes of Pat Barker and Hilary Mantel, then Kathy Hopewell is the next, best author to add to your reading list.  I’m not even sure that Swimming with Tigers can be classified as a historical novel, per se, as it begins in 1938.  Does setting a novel less than a century ago classify it as historical, necessarily?

Regardless, the novel opens in the Paris of January, 1938 (it ends in September 1940 so covers almost three years).  We are quickly introduced to the dual protagonists (whose novel it really is, I will deal with later).  At the forefront, there is the post-debutante, neo-artist Penelope, an English rose with more than a few greenfly. Then, there is Suzanne, a young woman with little balance (physically and emotionally), returning to Paris to confront her past. Their chance meeting initiates the narrative drive of the novel, the beginning of a long and layered awakening for both. As the story quickly unfolds, we learn that both are part of (or rather caught up in) the surrealist movement and the men who dominate and distort it.

Now, I have set myself an aim to exclude any spoilers from this review – which is going to prove challenging. However, there are plenty of jaw-dropping revelatory moments in the first hundred pages of this novel - about both the past and the present - that would make wonderful cliffhanger episode endings should (and it should) this novel ever be made into a TV series. We learn much through Penelope’s eyes during this part of the novel – and these oh f**k moments are very skilfully dropped into the story by Hopewell. Although these moments are usually event-driven they reveal as much if not more about the nature of the men in and out of the lives of the two women as they do our protagonists.  

One of the early highlights of this part of the story, for me, is the free indirect discourse Hopewell uses to develop Penelope’s character – the moments we see things through her thoughts as words rather than those of the narrator’s.  Hopewell’s dialogue sparkles; the first meeting of the two protagonists is a joy to read for this alone. Suzanne’s blunt, cryptic and often obfuscatory answers frustrate Penelope while intriguing the reader.  She’s a mystery and Penelope is determined to discover more.

While I have to admit I didn’t really like Penelope for... quite a while, her frustrated asides about Suzanne’s inability to straightforwardly and honestly explain her history, had me smilingly nodding in agreement.  As her character develops, through her experiences, I did begin to like her more but couldn’t quite dissipate the 1930s “entitled trust fund baby” smoke she emanates almost throughout the novel and which enables her to get by on a number of occasions.  However, her financial dependence on her father does mean she can make unselfish decisions at important moments; this is delicately counter-balanced by the male artists’ willingness to take advantage of Pubol’s (a Dali-esque figure in the novel) wealth, despite their disdain for and jealousy of his commercial success.   As a quick aside, is it accident or design that Pubol’s name so closely resembles the French for garbage can (pubelle)?

Penelope scintillates despite my initial misgivings; she is very much the heart of this novel. And if she is the heart, then Suzanne is its soul, bringing depth and resilience (however fragile) to the story.  As opposites attract, these two characters are drawn together like magnets even if their relationship is hardly “smooth sailing” all the way. Of the two, I have to say that it was to Suzanne I was most drawn.  That isn’t to say I rushed to the end of each “Penelope chapter” in order to get to the next one about Suzanne (once they are separated by both geography and events).  However, I did engage with her travails significantly more than I did with those of Penelope!  My sympathies always rested with her one hundred percent, while with Penelope they vacillated a little.  Yet the novel is owned by both equally.

Surrealism is an essential part of this story but if that might put you off, don’t allow it to.  The “casual” reader doesn’t have to have knowledge of the movement – it is introduced and so explained organically to the reader through the fictional characters and scenes therein. I was half expecting extensive passages of explanatory exposition around the movement but they are mercifully absent.

I think if the novel is about anything, it’s about the exclusion of women from some thing (in this case surrealism) based almost solely on their gender and how they go about getting themselves included.  Or, rather how they go about evolving themselves to the point where inclusion is irrelevant, unnecessary – unwanted even; they have moved on.  This movement of character within the novel is, I think, its greatest achievement:  its subtle, refined and beautifully poised development of the two female protagonists.

This leads me to the men! I guess I have to think of the time in which the novel is set but even for 1938 the fictional artists featured here seem somewhat retrograde.  Preoccupied with the unshackling of cultural chains that their artistic movement demands of them, they overlook to include both genders as equal in their experiment. Indeed, they actively subvert any progressive role that gender equality might have in surrealism, veering dangerously in their art towards a sexually-based fantasy version of women that serves to silence, shift or suppress the artistic female and deny women entry to this particular club.

Oh, and it’s an only boys allowed club in essence and in reality.  At first I found it difficult to distinguish between the more peripheral of the male artists that Hopewell introduces in quick succession. It occurred to me that perhaps it was deliberate on the part of the author, as they seem to form into a collectivised multi-limbed creature that excuses and revels in the “joint enterprise” of demeaning and degrading the female gender – without it ever occurring to them that this is exactly what they are doing.  This extends into their personal lives with both Penelope and Suzanne (who receive very different treatments, but are still made less than who they are by their respective men).  The phallocentric pursuit of artistic freedom we witness at the Paris Exhibition thoughtlessly places the other gender into objectified bondage (sometimes literally).  It’s redolent of some of the court cases that we still witness today where groups of men are collectively accused of crimes against women that as individuals they would be too scared or cautious or powerless to attempt.

Rolf, Penelope’s lover is initially something of a guiding father figure, even if Penelope doesn’t fully realise or acknowledge that she is substituting one pretty useless “daddy” for another.  There is a contrast, later in the novel, when Suzanne forms a close bond with Isaac, an elderly Dutch Jew which demonstrates that the desire to have a male parent figure in one’s life does not have to result in personal damage.  Penelope’s final realisation about why she stayed with Rolf for so long is a revelation to her but not really the reader.  Despite Rolf’s positive traits (he does have some!), he is unwilling to change – perhaps incapable of it. Even after his own tribulations, his first thought is to rejoin, regroup and revivify the boy’s club elsewhere.

As beautifully as the main characters are drawn, I have to take a little time to rejoice in the way that Hopewell depicts some of the minor characters. Following the sub-theme of creating one’s own family, I just loved the character of the kindly and wise Isaac, who takes in Suzanne when she arrives in Amsterdam.  Then there are Eduardo and Llucia, who virtually adopt Penelope during her Spanish sojourn but who know that her destiny lies elsewhere. This closeness is in contrast to the vicious and exclusionary matriarch Hopewell creates in Suzanne’s paternal grandmother as well as the never-seen but often mentioned father of Penelope who judges her and distances himself simultaneously.   And then, and then… there is lovely, dear, fated Freddie. How could you have done that to him, Hopewell?

The late introduction of James MacConnell is a deft deus ex machina – and not an obtrusive one, helping to more than satisfactorily tie up some questions about our protagonists’ future that readers might have.  Perhaps, perhaps… MacConnell could have been Jemima rather than James? Or would that be too trite?  Is character gender irrelevant by this point?

As gorgeously written as the novel is, with its evocations of a number of European cities (researching the 1930s geography of which must have been a labour in itself) and their populations, the wonderfully drawn characters and the inner lives of the protagonists, it is only “beaten” by its structure – which is flawless.   Swimming with Tigers pivots between Penelope and Suzanne, as you might already have gathered.   It shifts location on a number of occasions, allowing us the opportunity to learn more about them (the weather is very cleverly used, too).  Subplots and themes are interwoven, adding layers to the main story, with short chapters that help to maintain its pace. Yes, even what happens to Freddie makes perfect sense structurally, dammit.

Swimming with Tigers is a remarkable novel, simply put.  I enjoyed it immensely and was immediately drawn into the world that Penelope and Suzanne inhabit.  Their final exchange might have you reaching for the hankies. You have been warned.

You can buy Swimming with Tigers at:

Amazon

Blackwells