Pulling a rabbit out of the hat: The Illusionist review

Fabulous movies don't have to be plot-filled. And great scripts can be stuck in development hell for fifty years.

Jacques Tati wrote the screenplay for The Illusionist back in 1956 as a way of trying to re-establish a relationship with his estranged late daughter, Sophie (see also Edinbourg rendez-vous? Yes, please)

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The Tati Estate has been very cautious about anyone producing the story, so Sylvain Chomet (the maker of the classic Belleville Rendez-Vous) needed the tact of a fox to convince the family to let him loose on the crown jewels as a feature-length animation.

And to persuade them to let him reset the movie largely in Edinburgh and the Highlands of Scotland.

Big on atmosphere, father-daughter relationships and the disappointment of fading dreams, The Illusionist is a period costume piece without nostalgia. It's a rites of passage story about growing up and growing old, sad without being tragic and with a strange nobility invested in the central character: Tati himself as the illusionist.

Almost a silent film, the movie has a great chance of an Oscar next year as Best Foreign Picture. Go see it for yourselves.


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The people's pin-up

The limits of trademarking are sometimes all too obvious. Timed to coincide with the anniversary of the death of Diana, Princess of Wales, a firm of Chinese lingerie retailers has chosen to run a campaign using a Di lookalike to flog its merchandise. (Their Diana website has gone missing as I write.)

Taking the company to court would be counterproductive. The Diana, Princess of Wales Memorial Fund spent a fortune combating Franklin Mint in the States where copyright is respected; fighting dodgy traders in China would empty the coffers into a black hole.

Other than tasteless publicity on a sad anniversary, the Fund should use unofficial channels to explore ways of shutting down the trade. A trademark infringement case, should it go wrong, would simply open the floodgates to products seeking their main chance.


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Sean Connery at 80

Shaken, not stirred, perhaps to have reached such a milestone, the Scottish icon is still semi-active as an actor. A voiceover for the animation, Sir Billi, is in post-production.

It's amazing that Sir Sean was still playing action heroes in 2003. Given audience expections, you can't imagine Angelina Jolie playing Lara Croft at 73, unless the franchise spins out to the Tomb Raider's granddaughter.

Movies are strange beasts that don't reflect society. Perhaps we are more reluctant to let go of action heroes? Maybe things won't change until women get action franchises as the lead protagonists ... and this has not happened often in a century of commercial film-making.


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Who do you think you are? Royalty?

Actually, in the cases of Matthew Pinsent and Alexander Armstrong the answer is 'Yes'.

Alexander Armstrong traced his ancestry back to William the Conqueror and Matthew Pinsent was related to God, via Edward the Confessor.

There seems to be one episode every series that deals with a celebrity's distant relationship to the English aristocracy and, in Boris Johnson's case, the European monarchies.

The other staple is the Holocaust story: such as Stephen Fry, Jerry Springer, and Esther Rantzen (the family that got away)

The producers must approach about twenty celebrities per series to work out which stories are the most interesting.

Perhaps the groundwork is done before filming starts. Rumour has it that an episode featuring Michael Parkinson was canned on account of Mr Parkinson being the most interesting person in his own family.


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Variations on a midlife theme

You can tell you're getting older when ...

• Generation Y actors start getting wrinkles;
• Your favourite shops disappear (usually bought by a supermarket chain or an online retailer);
• Politicians change the groundrules again for no good reason;
• You remember the last three recessions;
• No one knows your favourite television shows, movies, bands etc and you have never heard of theirs;
• You fancy the romantic lead's mum/dad (delete as applicable).

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The Katy Perry Brand

Is she or is she not married? Slips of the tongue on The Graham Norton Show suggests Katy Perry may well have already tied the knot with Russell Brand. No matter, they'll be hitched soon in any case.

But how do married pop stars fare? Will she be a Louise Redknapp, formerly of Eternal, who retired gracefully from the scene when she married Jamie? Or will she be a Madonna, carrying on regardless of who she's seeing?

The brand may have to change, though, as reality will change adolescent fantasy. Perhaps she'll corner the Easy Listening market or release albums direct to a supermarket or elevator near you? Or follow Tiffany and tour the malls.


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Stepford spies

What could be more American than motherhood and Pavlova cake?

Richard and Cynthia Murphy, Donald Heathfield and Tracey Foley (and six others) seemed to be regular citizens until busted by their incompetence days after an official visit to the US by Russian President Dmitry Medvedev.

It appears that the ten Russian spies were unmasked by the FBI finding a 27-letter password next to a computer disk belonging to one of the group during a secret raid. The FBI then sat back for years listening in to threads of emails and mountains of documents, detailing expense claims that would have given British MPs a run for their money.

And then the American authorities reeled them in, way before any damage was done. The SVR is no KGB.


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Lembit Öpik: definition of a mid-life crisis

So what does a recently deposed MP do with their unexpected spare time after an election? Write their memoirs? Get stuck back into local politics? Return to their previous career?

No, Lembit Öpik, the former LibDem MP for Montgomeryshire is tonight trying his hand out as a stand-up comedian. Obviously.

This is either a stroke of genius or a recipe for mid-life shaped disaster.

On the plus side, Mr Öpik has plenty of material to draw on: engagement to a Cheeky girl (check); earlier engagement to a weathergirl (check); obsession with Earth-bound asteroids (check). And, to be honest, to keep relationships going with younger women, he must have more of a sense of humour than he displayed on a recent episode of Have I Got News for You (although appearing of the show within 24 hours of his ousting hinted of an ability to absorb humiliation and tout his CV on primetime television).

On the minus side, it might be a case of history repeating itself as farce. To get rejected from a safe-seat constituency might be unfortunate; to be booted off a comedy stage of your choosing within three weeks of the first pasting may look like carelessness.

My guess is that the reviewers will not be kind ... unless Mr Öpik turns out to show hitherto hidden brilliance at the one-liners as well as the harmonica. Politicians' appearances on panel shows tend to reflect their sense of hubris and ego rather than their innate sense of comic timing.


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Culture wars at Al-Jazeera

The Arabic news channel, Al-Jazeera, has got its knickers in a twist over its female presenters, accusing them of not wearing enough clothes: not in the Naked News sense; more like Burka News.

The presenters have quit.

Is this modest protestation going to make any waves in the Arabic world? I doubt it, somehow.


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Maggie, Maggie, Maggie; in, out, shake it all about

Maggie's club on the Fulham Road is a hit with the Sloanes and Hoorays. Apparently the venue is themed to the 1980s 'glory years' of Margaret Thatcher: memorabilia, speeches, the works.

Actually, the operative word is hit. Apparently, the owners have had to replace three sets of speakers from clubbers unappreciative of the Iron Lady's classic riffs: party-goer have punched out the woofers and tweeters. There is still no such thing as Society.

Will David Cameron be inspiring nightlife entrepreneurs in 2040, I wonder? It is very early days. 'Stand down, David, stand down, please' is not yet a pop-pickers rallying cry.


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Sarah Palin, rock star

The diva bug is catching.

Sarah Palin is making more appearance demands than an international pop star: designer clothes, de luxe hotel suites, Lear jets, mineral water with bendy straws ,,,

The tea party movement may soon feel she is more of a liability, with all that baggage (not to say luggage), than a sure-thing asset.

Mrs Palin is fast becoming the Imelda Marcos of US politics.


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And another thing about Oprah

One revelation from Kitty Kelley's new biography puts Oprah Winfrey in good diva company ...

Apparently, she doesn't do stairs (see also Mariah Carey).

Unlike the Daleks, who famously didn't do stairs until 1988.


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Whatever lurve is ...

Not exactly an election antidote, but royal wedding rumours are gathering pace.

The odds on William and Kate tying the knot in 2010 have slashed, on the supposition of media stories and the fantasies of a bored nation. But punts like this can sometimes hit the mark.

The bookies must be wondering if the public have taken a liking to their proverbial shirts.


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David Who?

Prediction time: David Tennant won't be featuring on British television until Matt Smith is firmly established as the new incarnation of Doctor Who. And, when he does, it will be in a radically different role.

Also Christmas telly in 2010 will not be the celebration of the coming of the Scottish one (see previous post, And the Zelig prize for most ubiquitous actor goes to ...), unless of course her name is Karen Gillan: the Doctor's new (nubile) travelling companion.

Television evolutionary jumps can be as swift and ruthless as neo-Darwinism. The Doctor is dead; long live the Doctor.


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Harry Potter and the Period Drama

Any visit to Lacock, Wiltshire can bring on that déjà vu feeling.

Stepping along the high street one can be forgiven for thinking Judi Dench is opening her front door in Cranford, Daniel Ratcliffe is having a private tutorial with Professor Slughorn (Jim Broadbent), and Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth are avoiding each other through most of Pride and Prejudice.

Outside London, Lacock may be one of the most popular film locations in Britain. If anyone's done a headcount tally it would be interesting to know.

Pulped fiction

Someone in the Motherhood movie marketing team, Metrodome, is going to be calling a taxi on their career any moment now.

The new Uma Thurman vehicle launched in one UK cinema to garner an exclusivity buzz tanked under an invisibilty cloak: it took £88.00 at the UK box office on its opening weekend. This amounts to twelve paying customers.

It's no wonder Hollywood seems reluctant to shell out megabucks for stars these days.

Motherhood may be heading for DVD rather sooner than first planned, unless the reverse pychology of wanting to see a failed movie kicks in.

SamCam mam jam

Just when Samantha Cameron was revving up to support her husband on the campaign trail she goes and gets pregnant.

I'm not sure how this will play with voters. Tory types may prefer her not to get out there, claiming that she will need rest, and it will focus attention on Conservative policies for the family.

It's probably politically neutral news, but does add an extra spicy ingredient to the battle of the PM's wives.

A very British divorce

Kate Winslet and Sam Mendes, less than the sum of their parts, after all.

She says tomarto and he says tomatoe. She likes to talk and he likes cricket highlights on Sky TV.

Both are smart, talented and in demand, often at different map reference coordinates. And there's the rub ...

The first thing journalists knew for sure about their marriage breakdown was their own press statement. The tabloid media had no scent of the news, but made up ground in spades on the following days.

But the whole business, though sad, was dignified and restrained.


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The British character ...

It's worth giving a wider airing to comedian Rufus Hound's dance routine for Sport Relief, reliving Cheryl Cole's moves for her single Fight for this Love. It's a microcosm of the British character.

What more could you ask? The British excel at poking fun at ourselves, blokes in frocks, raising money for charity, being rubbish at sports we invented, pricking pomposity, and putting full-on heart and soul into being incredibly silly.

Rufus Hound's routine ticks all the boxes.

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Blue eyes, Mensa IQ to go ...

Welcome to HuxleyWorld: theme parks located at London Bridge and Virginia where the hot ride on offer is to enter a raffle for an egg of your choice for IVF.

Science fiction? No, this is a real publicity drive punching a coach and horses through ethical worries about the sanctity of new life. This is bingo for babies: the winner cries 'House' and takes the DNA home.

Whether the initiative is banned or not it has succeeded in promoting its services. And it proves that people will always push against the boundaries of taste and decency to get noticed. We have gone from surrogate mothers to surrogate egg farmers in 25 years.


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