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London, United Kingdom
Holly Searle is a writer and an artist who was made in Soho and thereafter born in the heart of London. She has been blessed with two quite remarkable children and grandchildren whom she adores. She enjoys the company of her friends and the circus that is life, has a degree in Film and Television, and has exhibited her artwork in several exhibition.

Thursday, 18 July 2013

The Devil's In The Detail By Holly Searle

In 1975 I was the same age as my son is now.

During that year, a film was released which would probably affect me, more than any other I had ever seen before, or since.

And that film was Jaws.

It is hard to imagine that this was nearly forty years ago. I find that a shocking thought.

But what I find even more shocking is the quality of some of the films that have been produced and released in those intervening years.

Now, hold on a minute, don't all start waving pieces of paper, like the politicians do during a heated debate at the PM's question time. Just listen to what I have to say.

During those years there have been some incredible films written produced, and directed, that have pushed the boundaries of cinema. Some that introduced revolutionary and ground breaking subject matters, and some that have changed or challenged our opinion and heighten our views regarding major social issues. In turn, they have created a positive social vibe.

But a majority of them have been guilty of that old adage that more is less, and have insulted audiences with their unremitting deliverance of their cinematic fast food.

Now, if I ever encounter this type of film, it always reminds me of Frank Lloyd Wright's chewing gum for the mind television quote. This seems like a very apt quote for describing these mass-produced, and less than thought-provoking costly minutes of utter tosh.

Recently, I took my son to the pictures to see Man of Steel. There we both sat in the dark, while the movie played. At the end of the film, my son turned to me and said "Well that was rubbish."

I agreed, and started to ask myself why it was such a dreadful film.

I thought about what we had just seen, and why it was so unacceptable, and the conclusion I came to was this.

A great film has a heart. The writer's work represents that heart. They have conceived an idea, and have spent a substantial amount of time, mixing the characters and the plot together, to produce a narrative, that will ultimately have the potential to deliver a great movie.

However, not all writer's are lucky enough to ever see their stories on the big screen, because major studios don't always pick them up.

On the contrary, there seems to be an obsession with remarking films that were perfectly good on their first outing. I was informed the other day that they are remaking Carrie. Well, if you recall the last scene of that film, Carrie White, is still with us, and I doubt she'll like this one little bit.

To some of these remakes it would appear, there is an almost unhealthy amount of special effects added, to pep it up a bit, but that just blind us all with science.

And if you want to know what I think, I reckon that this technology is the Ebenezer Scrooge of modern cinema. Which is odd, as it has given us so much, whilst managing to perform the mother and father of all autopsy on these already perfectly good films, and in doing so, has managed to remove the heart of ingenuity from them.

Just stop and have a think for a moment. Think of all of those movies you have enjoyed over the last four decades. I bet all the ones that you loved, still have all their internal organs.

I bet they do.

And I bet that there are countless others that you can only recall because you wished you had spent that 90 or so minutes, doing something a lot more interesting.

Sound familiar?

So, where was I?

Ahhh, yes, Jaws.

On an evening in 1975 I went to the cinema to see Jaws. I can remember it as if it were yesterday. I sat on the left, about four rows from the front. The film began, as it does, with the under water shot that opens it, accompanied by the first few bars of the now unmistakable John Williams theme.

I was knicker-gripped from that point on.

I had never seen a film like it.

I sat transfixed, and terrified in that darken cinema, feasting on this sumptuous cinematic three course meal from its beginning until its end. All the best quality ingredients were of equal proportion. The plot, the protagonists, and the monster, a mechanical shark, affectionately known as Bruce, by the cast and crew.

"You'll never go in the water again!" Claimed one of the pre-publicity campaigns.

And guess what? I never did. I even found it hard to take a dip in a swimming pool after seeing Jaws.

I watched it again recently with my son, and he loved it as much as I still do.

People often ask me what my favourite films is. I can't answer that question. But Jaws is absolutely one hundred percent, without a doubt, one of them.

And why? Well because it managed to produce a narrative, with a its cause and effect on track from the start until its finish. The characters are wonderfully well recognised and stunningly fleshed out by the actors who portrayed them. It is thrilling, charming and timeless, and most of all, now more than ever, I have great affection for it because of Bruce.

He was about as special effected as it got in 1975.

And he was perfect, because he represents the ingenuity of the team behind that movie.

After I had seen Man of Steel, I thought about why I had hated it so much. After very little thought, I came to conclude that it was due to the saturation of the special effects and for what purpose they had been used within the context of the narrative.

It was all very wham bam thank you Mam, and used to display the needless destruction of humanity, buildings, oh and highly expensive satellites that were tracking Superman's whereabouts.

How very dare it.

It was dull and boring, and went on for far too long. In a word, there was no ingenuity and no heart to that movie. It simply had no soul.

Often films unwittingly reflect the society which has produced them.

I thought about that too.

Jaws was made in a post Nixon age, when the enemy was domestic and literary lurking in the water.

Man of Steel
is loud and brash. An American cock-sure and cock blocking warning and masturbatory visual display to all aliens that threaten it's security, that they will not win, if decide to mount an attack.


That's all well and good and all, but with regards to watching a good movie, it is just utter nonsense.

But alas, I predict that we will see many more of these films in our cinemas very soon.

More is less, more is less, more is less

And me and mine?

Well, we prefer the whimsy and ever lasting charm of a robotic shark called Bruce, and always will.

Dim the light, cue that John Williams music, and enjoy.

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