'The Walking Dead'

Frank Darabont's The Walking Dead sets a traditional premise, known from films like 28 Days Later, in having its main protagonist wake up from a coma only to find his surroundings irretrievably altered. While he slumbered peacefully in is hospital room, recovering, in this case, from an injury sustained while dealing with a bunch of meth dealers, sheriff Rick Grimes is awaken to find the world almost deserted, littered with corpses that are anything but dead. Confused, Grimes stumbles through the streets of his home-town in Georgia, only to find his house abandoned and his wife and son missing.

Convinced that they're still alive, Grimes makes his way to Atlanta to find them, after spending the night with two survivors, Morgan and his son, who linger in a kind of emotional purgatory, not being able to leave the house as their wife and mother still haunts the premises as a zombie.

In a parallel storyline, the spectator is introduced to what has the feel of a hippie commune, but ultimately is a makeshift society composed of survivors of the zombie pandemic. The group is led by Shane, whom the spectator recognises as Grime's partner from one of the first scenes. Through what feels like a little bit of a too convenient coincidence, Grimes manages to make contact with and eventually joins the group. In an again convenient turn of events, he finds his wife and son living with the group.

So, with the characters being introduced and settled in a societal structure which allows the writers a somewhat wider scope of protagonist action and reaction, let the carnage begin... Or so I thought, but here the series takes its first surprising turn, as the pace is slower and more contemplative than one is used to from other zombie treatments. Don't get me wrong, the iconography is traditional in its gory imagery and slouching, groaning zombies, however, the treatment of the latter is, ironically, somewhat more humane, as the spectator is reminded of their once being human individuals. The zombies are never referred to as such, the series names them walkers. One of the most surprising moments occurs in the first episode in which Grimes bends down to the crawling torso of what once used to be a woman and says: 'I'm sorry this happened to you.'

Grimes is very much portrayed as the lone wolf, the copper with a heart of gold, not afraid to go out and do right. He is almost a stereotype in himself, the strong silent type, you know the one. It's Lincoln's performance, however, which manages to infuse this rather one-dimensional character with something more, if not complexity, at least some sort of integral depth. Lincolns' performance perfectly captures the expression of a man who goes from waking up to a world in which the concept of norm has lost all meaning, to a character who will do everything to keep his group alive all the while having no illusion of the bleak future awaiting them.

The title 'The Walking Dead' not only refers to the zombies, albeit, also to the characters as they could get infected any minute, while the life they lead is so desolate, that one gets the impression, it's almost not worth living. This is a bleak, godforsaken environment and the series' refusal to infuse the general mood with anything even resembling hope, makes for a program which is very much fine-tuned to the human drama lying at its core. While traditional zombie films mostly cover the outbreak of the epidemic, The Walking Dead expands on this theme in exploring the possibilities of life after survival, more often than not finding life to be a lonely, sordid affair in a barren world stripped of any comfort or incentive beyond food and shelter.

This sense of hopelessness and almost lack of future translates in the series' bleak cinematography with its barren, desert-like, sun-drenched colours, endless stretches of abandoned land and roads, carcasses of deserted cars and homes and long takes of characters which seem lost and unnatural in their surroundings which have been taken over by the walkers. It is the humans which seem out of place as the world is transformed into one lifeless vacuum of silence. The series manages to translate this noiselessness, the muteness of the world into images, as any noise made by humans falls away, which lends the tone of the series a tense eeriness. One is almost tempted to scream out only to fill the silence, but, as one soon learns, noise attracts zombies, thus silence is not only natural in this new world, it is necessary, which is why the series allows for moments of stillness, again unusual in this genre. As such the concept of silence proves interesting as it stands in stark contrast to modern life with its constant sensual stimuli and overpowering tendency to loose itself in a noisy day-to-day, thus loosing all direct rapport to the essential given of existing in the world.

The walkers, naturally, become metaphoric for the modern angst of pandemics, terrorist attacks, the crumbling of economic structures and the loss of individuality in a mass of sheer conformity. The group itself becomes illustrative of a societal microcosm in which new rules and governing principles are quickly established, however, contested by some members of the group, thus hinting at the humanly constructed nature of all authoritative body most of us are quite happy to oblige. Shane and Grimes take leadership of the group, in competition to each other, however, quite happy to make decisions for the whole of the group. Here lies one of the main issues of the series, as the women depicted in it are mostly used as emotional catalysts or mere instruments to further the plot. Lori, Grimes' wife, mostly justifies her screen presence in becoming a prize, lost by Shane, gained by Grimes. The other female characters are purely reactionary beings, never allowed to make an independent decision, they have to be protected and seem to spend most of their time washing clothes in a pond. In one scene, in which the women seem to engage in what has become their favourite pass-time, namely laundry (note how strange the washing of clothes becomes if the characters seem to be wearing the same clothes over and over again) they even comment on gender stereotypes and laughingly conclude that nothing much has changed in this new world order.

When Grimes takes most of the men on a rescue mission to Atlanta, the camp is attacked and numerous members of the group die as a result. Later, Shane condemns Grimes for having left the group with no men to defend them. Given that the series is set in Georgia, with two protagonists that are sheriffs, a certain amount of machismo attitude can and indeed should be expected, this however, leaves the female characters pale and under-developed in contrast to their male counterparts, which is a shame as the series could have profited from a few stronger characters.

In the end, what the series benefits most from, is its beautiful, barren, desolate cinematography in which the strangeness of seeing an urban environment devoid of the human element makes for eerie, while stunning viewing. The sense of hopelessness and post-apocalyptic nihilism that pervades the series and the allowance of a depiction of the walkers as former human beings rather than mere lumps of animated flesh, sets the series aside from the rather strict canonical rules of the zombie genre. The Walking Dead is not without fail, as the female characters leave a lot to wish for and the testosterone-fuelled power-struggle of the males becomes almost ridiculous, however, its focus on societal character interactions, musings on life after survival and assertion of moments of speculative beauty make The Walking Dead an addition to the world of 'cinematic' TV which is out to be taken seriously. Rest assured though, dear fans of Evil Dead, there are a lot of heads to be bashed in with whatever instrument is at hand and the zombies still have the munchies....Some things never change, they do get better, however, with a bigger budget!

'You Will Meet A Tall Dark Stranger'

You Will Meet A Tall Dark Stranger, again, has Woody Allen portray an array of characters who are deeply unhappy and frustrated by their choices in life. Allen's film is structured around two couple whose marriage has, or is bound to fail. Helen and Alfie are an upper middle-class couple. Just about to get a divorce, Alfie, struggling to come to terms with the fact of getting older, leaves his wife Helen, who, after a failed suicide attempt, sips her way through London, burdening her daughter and trying any kind of self-help available to modern woman. She eventually finds console in her visits to the charlatan fortune-teller Crystal. Alfie finds his form of recreation in more mundane territory, namely in his affair and eventual marriage to Essex actress/call-girl Charmaine. In the middle of it all, we find Sally, Helen's and Alfie's daughter, married to the failed novelist Roy. Sally starts her new job and delicately flirts with her boss Greg, a dashingly handsome Spaniard gallery owner. Roy, for his part, becomes obsessed with lady in red he spies on from his window.

All is not well in the Allen universe, as Sally and Roy eventually split up only for Roy to end up with the girl next door, Dia, after having stolen the identity of his writer-friend in a coma in order to pass the latter's brilliant first novel off as his own. Sally wants to open her own gallery with a loan her mother has promised her and as such find fulfilment in her career. Sadly, though, her mother Helen has become entangled in the occult and developed such a dependency on Crystal that she refuses the loan, as the stars are aligned in an unfortunate manner. The last scene leaves us with Helen and her fiancée who owns an occult bookshop, happily planning their life together.

The first scene has the narrator borrow Macbeth's statement that life is a tale, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing, setting the deeply nihilistic frame for the rest of the film. The spectator realises from the beginning that the characters will not have a great chance at happiness as they struggle through their day-to-day, alienated to the point of resentment.

Gemma Jones shines in her role as Helen, a sad and lonely ex-wife who is faced with spending the rest of her life on her own. She manages to play Helen with a naivete which becomes destructive. In her, for lack of a better word, idiocy, Helen is self-indulgent to the point of being obnoxious as the word of her fortune-teller becomes gospel.

In this universe, personal success is not a matter of intelligence and subjective worthiness is no guarantee for happiness. Alfie, meanwhile, indulges in a few months of sexual bliss while in the end being left with the horrible realisation that he has made a terrible mistake all the while not knowing whether the son he so desperately wanted, is his or not.

One can see what Allen intended to create with his film, a think piece/character study set in middle-class bohemian London about alienation and the absurdity of social interactions all of which infused with a sense of groundlessness and nothingness. Unfortunately, Allen manages to create one of those rare films in which the characters remain lifeless, even though the performance of the actors, with exception of Josh Brolin, is superb. Brolin's performance appears staged and wooden, he lingers awkwardly in the frame and whoever gave him that haircut should be shot. Granted, Brolin's character Roy is supposed to be socially awkward, conscious of his failure as a writer, sadly, there is a difference between an awkward performance and performing someone awkward. The characters reactions' often seem strange, even within the Allen parameters. How would a young woman ever find it flattering if an older man from across the street confessed to spying on her while she undressed?

The only character I wholeheartedly enjoyed, despite of her almost cartoon-like performance, was the Charmaine character. Yes, she is one-dimensional, yes, she is a stereotype, however, she is at the same time rather sweet in a child-like manner. There is nothing contrived about her nature, she is a gold-digger and sleeps around, in the last scene, however, she appears honestly dejected in becoming conscious of letting Alfie down.

Anthony Hopkins, for one, is at his best as he decides to play Alfie with a gravity which gives this comparatively ridiculous character a profoundly sad and heart-breaking quality, as we realise that his desire for Charmaine was not only spurred by sexual desire, but furthermore by the yearning to have another son after the death of his first one. Hopkins delivers one of his most compelling performances in the last scene in which his face contorts in a exhausted, empty and painful expression as he demands a DNA test.

The biggest, or most noticeable let-down, however, proves Allen's dialogue, which seems utterly unfamiliar with the British idiom. Roy asks Dia whether she loves her fiancée and she replies that yes, she loves him, but sometimes she 'wavers'. I don't think anyone in Britain, since the times of Henri James, has ever used this word again. After half an hour and what felt like 150 'isn't it's and 'darling's I was ready to scream and slap Allen across the face with a piece of battered fish. Even Gemma Jones sounds contrived, as Allen attempts to make the British actress sound even more British.

Allen's You Will Meet A Tall Dark Stranger depicts life as a series of self-delusions and disappointments which, in the end, amount to nothing. Unfortunately, this is also the most fitting description for the film itself.

'Sherlock'

Sherlock Holmes is back! After Guy Ritchie's last venture into the cinematic interpretation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Victorian adventure novels, Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat and have picked up Britain's most famous detective and given the stories a modern twist. The BBC-produced series is set in 21^st century London and stars Benedict Cumberbatch as Holmes and Martin Freeman as Dr. Watson. The first season is structured into 3 independent 90-minutes episodes, starting with Doyle's 'A study in Scarlett', here under the title 'A Study in Pink', directed by Gangster N. 1's Paul Gaughin, followed by 'The Blind Banker' and 'The Great Game'.

The series' main asset lies in its modern re-interpretation as it leads us through urban London's narrow back alleys, its sleek glass-fronted finance district to the borders of the Thames. It quickly becomes obvious that we have left the gas-light streets of Victorian London behind, even though the lighting of the series clearly alludes to that period with its golden and brown brick colour-scheme, suggesting that even in this technically advanced modern environment, the motives of crime have never changed. Crime is human, revenge, greed and passion are never out of date, only the means of its execution and resolution have altered, as Holmes and Watson are texting, blogging and using GPS systems all throughout their adventures. These modern devices, however, do not impair the qualities of the plot as they never undermine Holmes' deductive investigation methods.

This is no highly stylised English version of CSI, it clearly highlights the fact that crime is human, committed and resolved by individuals. As such, human motivation lies at the heart of the series' theme. The characters carry the series; they are, without exception, well thought through, coherent and with personal quirks which make Sherlock come alive. The script is peopled with original characters, from a landlady who serves biscuits and consoles Holmes that 'a nice murder'll cheer [him] up', to Watson's girlfriend who works nine to five and doesn't mind knocking out Chinese gangsters on a first date. As such, the characters display that typically British attitude of taking things as they come, whether it'd be a pint or a murder. They keep calm and carry on. At the same time, the characters all exist in relation to Holmes, this as such comes as no surprise as the minor characters are often reliant on the protagonists, here, however, the supporting roles are defined by their attitude towards and their opinion of Holmes.

Detective Inspector Lestrate is mainly characterised by his frustration in dealing with Holmes while not being able to hide his admiration for the latter. As such his screen presence is justified by his disposition towards and his assessments of Holmes' actions and train of thoughts. The same goes, to a certain extent, for Watson. Even tough he is very much an equal partner, rather than the ridiculous sidekick from the past, he is nonetheless Holmes' audience, staring admiringly at the great master while cleaning up after him, sometimes literally. Watson makes up for all of Holmes' shortcomings, most of which are of a social nature.

At the same time the series introduces a worthy enemy in reintroducing Holmes' arch-enemy Moriarty from the novels. He first appears in a minor role pretending to be someone else (notice how I'm trying not to spoil anything, here?), he is a hyperbolic character whose exaggerated body language misleadingly introduces him as a somewhat farcical buffoon. Things couldn't be further from the truth as this buffoon becomes the most frightening character of the series as his eerily comical behaviour turns psychotic. The spectator, just like Holmes underestimates Moriarty. At the same time, Moriarty serves as classic nemesis to the Holmes character as the two represent two sides of the proverbial coin. Their thought process is identical, one anticipating, manipulating and comprehending the thoughts of the other. Both characters engage in a game which lies outside the boundaries of common morality. These are characters functioning outside the norm, intellectually and in terms of motives.

This confrontation with his nemesis also emphasises the darker side of Holmes. The character play-off heralds a blurring of the line between sociopath and psychopath and the spectator is uncomfortably reminded of the female detective's assessment of Holmes in the first episode, stating that one day Holmes will be the one to commit the murder rather than solve it. 'Will it help me solve the case quicker if I care [about the victim]?' he asks an astonished Watson, alluding to his purely cerebral evaluation of the world, which discards any interactive relation of an emotional nature. Holmes' intelligence lies in his ability to objectively assess the world, to see its workings from the outside, hence from a completely detached point of view. His only relation which could remotely be called interpersonal is his alliance with John Watson.

Watson is an ex-soldier, just returned from the war in Afghanistan. He suffers from a psychosomatic limb and PTSD. The spectator is first introduced to him in a therapy session in which his therapist urges him to communicate with his surrounding. Watson does what any modern individual would, he starts blogging, a habit that backfires in episode 3 as the bomber uses the medium to keep updates on Holmes', a comment on modern need for exposure without realizing the risks involved. The series introduces us to Watson as a broken man, returned from war to a life which has no one waiting for him and battling with a severe depression. Ex-soldiers, struggling with PTSD are often known to fall into depression once once their life is no longer in immediate danger and Watson is no exception, a man desperate for distraction-cue Holmes!

This modern version of Holmes needs a flatmate, but seeing that he's a sociopath, the search proves difficult. This is the premise of the series, a broken soldier looking for the distraction of danger and a socially detached, brilliant consulting detective (yes, the only one in the world!) with what bears all the symptoms of Asperger's syndrome. As such Benedict Cumberbatche's Holmes is a much darker character than Robert Downey Jr's character. This is a man who does not choose to be socially detached, as does Ritchie's version in a gimmicky sort of way, this character is unable to connect to other human beings. He does not see victims, he sees clues, motivations and criminal intent. In Holmes' deductive mind, people function as part of an equation, they are all deductible until said equation is broken down to a point which cannot be but the truth. Watson serves as the emotional barometer in this equation. He takes interest in the people involved in this criminal equation.

Watson's admiration for Holmes borders on hero worship, an idealisation Holmes' consequently refuses. He points out to Watson, keep in mind that this is a man who returned from war, but still believes in Queen and Country, that he will not be turned into an abstract object of worship, a fact that greatly disappoints Watson, which does, however, not break his devotion to him. Moffat and Gatiss' Holmes is ruthless, cold, but what redeems the character is his complete and utter honesty as he, for example, tells the morgue attendant that her new boyfriend is gay. He is then chided by Watson for not being kind, but with his complete disdain for what he would call irrationality, but what other people might call emotions, Holmes points out that she might be better off knowing now than later.

Even though there might have been variations on Holmes' character over the years, one characteristic is associated with Holmes like no other and this is the trait of arrogance. If at all possible, the Gatiss-Moffat duo reinforces this distinctive Holmesian attribute. The characters around Holmes are clever, they are, evidently not as adept as Holmes, in fact, the secondary characters represent the spectator. The questions they ask are the spectator's question; everyone is looking to Holmes for answers. Here lies the crux of the series: the plot lines and, to a certain extent, the cinematography not only mirror, they coincide with Holmes' train of thoughts.

The plot evolves around the assumptions Holmes makes; the camera lingers on his face as he lies on the sofa, thinking, only to jump to the next scene or shot once Holmes has come to a conclusion. The rhythm of the series, the pace of events is, as such, completely dependent on the main protagonist which gives the series a somewhat erratic pace, nevertheless suiting its content as the spectator follows Holmes on his journey through the criminal underworld of London, while he indignantly explains his introspection into the cases to his colleagues and most importantly to the spectator.

Holmes also dominates the tone of the series as it is funny without being ridiculous, fast-paced without being hectic, clever without being overwhelming, arrogant, but strangely enough, never aloof. The imagery does not spare the spectator representations of bodies, a depiction that, however, never descends to a sensationalist level of Exhibitionism. The rendering of the victims remains clinical, detached, never trying to aggregate cheap thrills with gory details. Rather than an ordinary crime series with its plot twisting and turning, introducing elements of surprise which 'happen' to the protagonist, Sherlock takes its spectator on a journey through Holmes' mind.

Cumberbatch plays Holmes with an outlandishness which reminded me of Richard E. Grants 'Withnail' with his gangly movements and a sense of British eccentricity taken to extreme. Like Grant, Cumberbatch portrays Holmes with a social disdain which borders on the recluse. Cumberbatch struts through the frame in an overly confident and aloof manner while his very physique sometimes displays reptilian attributes with unnaturally bright eyes, emphasised by the cinematography's lighting. Freeman counteracts Cumberbatch's physical expression of superiority with a wonderfully understated, occasionally slightly awkward, lingering in the frame. Freeman holds his own next to Cumberbatch in introducing a quiet presence on screen which is never undermined or overpowered by the extreme nature of his screen partner.

As such the wonderful characters and the performances make Sherlock a diverse and original crime drama which is not afraid to tackle Britain's most famous detective from a different angle, thus giving new life to a much-loved classic. Sherlock might not be everyone's cup of tea, but then Ritchie's latest instalment of the Conan Doyle novels is about to make another appearance on our screens and we can once again observe a Holmes and Watson with whitened teeth and fashionably dishevelled hair. This spectator, for once, cannot wait for the second series to come out in September.