Sorry, Ridley Scott, we just don’t think it’s safe to go back to the movies | Rebecca nicholson
RIdley Scott is responsible for many of the best correct movies in cinema history and by that I mean huge event-type blockbusters, the ones you’d bother going to see in the movies, the ones that practically smell like popcorn. Thelma & Louise? Ridley Scott. The Extraterrestrial movies, Blade runner, Gladiator and I would argue here for GI Jane, all led by him. It must help with the success rate that his work ethic is amazing: he has released two UK films in six weeks.
His last, Gucci House, released now, has divided critics so much that it has become urgent to see it: is it “boring”, “bold”, “so bad as it is bad” or “elegant”? Is there anything better than Lady Gaga in the trailer, saying, “Father, Son and House of Gucci,” a line that stuck in my mind like the chorus of a catchy pop song? The big question is whether he will do better than Scott’s The last duel, released in theaters last month and actually bombed.
If times were different you might wonder why The last duel didn’t work out very well, with this cast (Matt Damon, Ben Affleck, Jodie Comer), and this story, and Scott behind it. It was perfectly positioned to be a real movie film, but its box office receipts were miserable. Scott spoke about it with Marc Maron on the WTF podcast last week, suggesting that the the reason he tanked was the young and telephones. “What we have today [are] the audience that was raised with those fucking cell phones. The millennium [sic] never want to learn anything unless you are told over a cell phone, âhe said.
Part 1 is hard to argue with, though older millennials are the last generation to remember living without the internet, let alone cellphones, and standing in line for Gladiator. And I have a lot of thoughts on the size of the screen (I can barely read any crucial plot text on my TV, let alone my phone) and what is lost when beautiful movies are shrunk into a small one. box.
But it is surely more that, right now, there is still a great demand for people to go and sit at the cinema to watch a movie for two hours or more. I’ve heard stories of sold-out concerts that were only half full because ticket holders were unwilling or unable to attend. Pantomime ticket sales are down by a third compared to the pre-pandemic period. People are only half ready to go again and that’s understandable. Everything right now is uncertain and precarious and the blockbuster movie may have to wait a little longer for its return.
Dua Lipa: forget the genre, we are all now musical
For the rest of the time, a statement which at this rate seems less hyperbolic than it should, Dua Lipa will be the last woman to receive a Brit Award for British solo artist, while J Hus will be the last. man to have been crowned British male solo artist.
The British have followed the Berlin Film Festival by removing gender categories and will instead introduce more genre awards, opening up new slots for acts in four categories: alternative / rock, hip-hop / grime / rap, dance and pop / R & B.
The decision to drop the male and female categories was the most newsworthy one, obviously, causing a little ripple of reaction that could have been predicted in the photographic detail, although I admit that Brian May goes on a tangent about Queen and diversity was a curveball. The concern seems to be that men or women will be at a disadvantage by this decision, but that ignores the fact that musical and pop trends are cyclical – women dominate pop right now and men may end up dominating at one point. other time. I doubt that judging the work on its comparative merits rather than the gender of its author will make much difference.
More curious is the decision of the genre, which seems to have been necessary to flesh out the ceremony, but comes at a time when the genre has all but collapsed and it is increasingly difficult to categorize the performers. In 2021, where would Little Simz sit? Arlo Parks? Adele? Ed Sheeran? They all borrow pieces from everywhere.
I’ll have to check what Brian May thinks.
Richard Madeley: gut response to I’m a celebrity
I have an ambivalent relationship with I’m a celebrity, get me out of here, currently slipping towards the end of a busy first week.
I love Ant and Dec’s humor, the general camaraderie and watching people triumph over difficult situations, but I hate seeing snakes wrapped around famous people’s heads and having to wonder if snakes are okay or pity the rats who are just trying to go about their business just for the face of Ian Beale looming next to them. The RSPCA has once again called on the series to stop using live animals in bushtucker trials this year; again, producers said âstrong protocolsâ were in place.
This is not a show for the faint of heart and can be more difficult than we thought. Richard Madeley slipped head first into a pit of rotten fruit and veg and had tripe and fish giblets thrown at him on a freezing night in Wales. The presenter, whom the Partridge-isms touted as the main attraction, was rushed to hospital “as a precaution” when he fell ill and ended up quitting the show after just four days.
Does that make it more watchable, or less, to wonder if celebrities are actually going to get away with it?