Before getting into the masterpiece that truly kicks off with the most disturbing mid-meal intrusion ever, I should take a brief look at the films that followed this masterpiece. Aliens (1986) is a fantastic action film with a superb leading turn by Sigourney Weaver, whose reprisal of the Ripley character was so filled with incredible power and deservedly earned her an Oscar nomination. It has a rather fun, eclectic ensemble, its special effects and setpieces are fabulous, and the final act is particularly heart-pounding. Aliens 3 (1992) is a flawed film with dated effects, but works rather well as an atmospheric, slow-burn prison film with another fantastic Weaver performance, another rather good ensemble (including Charles Dance who for once is playing a good guy), the third act I think is comparatively flawed to the build-up, but I still liked it overall. Alien: Resurrection (1997) is a bit of a disposable sequel, visually quite inventive and again, Weaver is rock-solid, but the storyline is rather flimsy and the aliens don't have quite the same impact. The Alien v.s. Predator films, I don't really remember if I've seen any of them, and if I have, I really can't comment. Prometheus (2012) was a decent enough sci-fi adventure film, I'm not quite sure if it reached its full potential but there's certainly a fair bit of fun to be had, Noomi Rapace is a solid enough lead, Michael Fassbender's Peter O'Toole impersonation is rather fun, and though the third act is mostly quite lacklustre, the initial set up and special effects are enough to somewhat make up for those inadequacies.
Which brings me to Alien. Oh, Alien, one of the most iconic films of all-time, period. Even if you don't care for cinema at all, period, you'll still be aware of that incredibly memorable chestburster scene. You'll know the gist of the plot, about yes, an alien who attacks and picks off crew members one by one. It's no spoiler to say that Ripley (Weaver) is the only one who survives - as I've mentioned, the whole subsequent series focusing on her is one of the most well-known sci-fi franchises of all-time. It's endlessly re-watched by many, myself included, and yet even though each time I technically know what's around the corner, so to speak, it still terrifies me with each re-watch.
Let's start with the elements established from the very beginning. The opening credits sequence to Alien is masterful in establishing the ton perfectly. It's brooding, creepy, unnerving and brings such an overwhelming sense of dread, thanks to the words ALIEN slowly appearing out of dissonant white forms strung together,'a disjointed version of Helvetica Black is used to instill a sense of foreboding, the letters broken into pieces, the space between them unsettling' (Lola Landekic, http://www.artofthetitle.com/title/alien/), with title designer Richard Greenberg doing so much to convey a particular sort of mood alongside Jerry Goldsmith's haunting score.
The nailing of this brooding, tense mood is crucial because the film then transitions to the definition of a slow-burner. Panning shots of the exquisite set design of the commercial spacecraft Nostromo, the spaceship that's going to be the setting for the upcoming events, in an eerily quiet, calm state while the crew are in stasis, allows Ridley Scott to show off the exquisite work of his production crew in constructing the spaceship set. Hundreds of sketches by artists Ron Cobb and Chris Foss were used to plan the labyrinthine ventilation shafts, the pristinely white computer rooms and stasis roomns, the living areas contrasted with the lower levels. The ship manages to have such character of its own with each component, and yet at the same time carrying that sense ofartifice and industrilization that shows that its business is purely business, and that this mission by the crew isn't some daring, wild adventure into outer space, but merely a job.
The style of the sets variate once the crew of the Nostromo, waken up from stasis to check on a distress signal from a nearby planetoid. The planet's design is AMAZING. The film's artistic influence stemmed firstly from the artwork of H.R. Giger, who brings a viscreally organic, lived-in quality to his sets with their stylized biological look, alongside the established style of Scott's direction. It's amazing stuff, and I must say one of the reason the film's as iconic as it is is because of how it looks.
Beyond just looking great, though, the substance to Alien is as evident as the style early on. Ridley Scott's direction, as I've mentioned before in my ranking of his films, holds this film masterfully together as he brings in the human element into the story while wow-ing us with the technical mastery of his craftsmanship. Credit to the excellent screenplay has been frequently debated - Dan O'Bannon wrote the original draft and is credited as such, but the likes of Ronald Shusett, Walter Hill, David Giler etc. also added a great deal/and revised it, including the inclusion of a rather fascinating twist in the third act. Regardless of who claims the most responsibility, it's an incredible screenplay, not least in its writing of its characters who are far from being merely dead meat.
I'll start with Mr Hurt, who plays executive officer Kane, since we all know what happens to him, he having perhaps one of the, if not the, most famous death scenes of all-time. Hurt was coming off his first Oscar nomination for his memorable supporting portrayal of an imprisoned drug addict in Midnight Express, and in the subsequent year would give one of the greatest performances of all-time as John Merrick in The Elephant Man, which he garnered an Oscar nod for as well. For some odd reason he's never been nommed against since, but I digress. In between both those performances, he found the time to take part in the greatest horror film of all-time, and in classic Hurt fashion he makes a huge impact despite being the first member of the Nostromo to be killed off. The casting of Hurt in the role was rather clever on many levels. Always one who looked wiser than his years, having him as the savvy, world-weary veteran of the crew works extremely well in setting him up to be a sort of secondary leader, and having perhaps the most well-known cast member out of the ensemble be killed off first enhances the effect of his death scene. Hurt most importantly delivers in every moment the character is onscreen, swiftly bringing his character from his initial apathy to the mission, to excitement at finding the alien eggs, and finally giving one of the most breathtaking, harrowing depictions of pain onscreen.
Harry Dean Stanton as Brett has one of the relatively simple, minor roles as engineering technician Brett. Stanton, like Hurt, is an underrated character actor, even more so because he's never been nominated for an Oscar and unlike Hurt who's gotten a fair few substantial and meaty roles throughout his career, rarely gets any role of much substance. Not that it matters, I've seen him absolutely kill it without dialogue in a few minutes (Seven Psychopaths), with dialogue in a few minutes (The Green Mile and The Straight Story), and in slightly bigger supporting roles like Wild at Heart he can be absolutely amazing (I need to see Paris, Texas soon). This is another small role, but a memorable one. Stanton is very funny in a low-key fashion in the role of a slightly disgruntled but otherwise rather relaxed and chilled engineer who's in it for the paycheck, but doesn't make to much of a fuss about his job otherwise besides a few slightly snide comments here and there. His little banterous jibes and reactions are always on point, and he also absolutely delivers in his final scene where we get the first sighting of the Alien in full form.
The most heartwarming relationship (of which I guess there aren't that many) in the film has to be that between Brett and his buddy, chief engineer Parker (Yaphet Kotto). Kotto and Stanton have fantastic chemistry in there scenes together which enhance both their performances, and really do enliven the film. Kotto is like Stanton, really funny and energizes the film in the right sort of fashion in the opening scenes as the most lighthearted of the lot, routinely cracking jokes and trying his best to enjoy, while always having a slight air of dissatisfaction to his delivery over his relatively miniscule paycheck. Kotto and the script establish Parker as an occasionally abrasive and rather hotheaded sort whose amiable demeanour sometimes crack under being ordered around, or as the film progresses, as the pressure intensifies. One thing I've grown to appreciate more on re-watches is that in many films of this sort, Kotto's character would be very much of the scapegoat, dead meat variety, killed off immediately to make a point. Instead the film gives him more time than you might expect to develop his character, and for a film as chilling and terrifying as this, I actually find with every viewing of the film, that Kotto's reactions to the death of the crewmembers, and his gradual growth into a man less concerned about his own welfare, more about the safety of his fellow crew members, rather moving.
The most straightforward and straight-laced of the crew, so to speak, is Tom Skerritt's Captain Dallas. Skerritt was a fairly well-known and well-established actor at the time with his prominent role in MASH and a string of television and cinematic supporting roles. He has one of the more potentially thankless roles as the decoy 'hero' of the film, but he certainly nails the needed command of the captain alongside the personable attributes of a all around decent guy who the crew respects. One thing I've notcied more on re-watches though, like Kotto, is that Skerritt actually brings a certain flaw to Dallas in his heroism, he's admirable but not always wise and Skerritt plays into the script's realizations of that. He sets up his character to be the hero but is ultimately upended in one of the greatest film sequences of all-time.
Sigourney Weaver, as she always was and always will be, is brilliant in the role of Ripley. It's the least showiest of her performances in the series due to the ensemble nature of the film meaning she's jsut barely lead by virtue of the film's final act focusing almost entirely on her v.s. the Alien. This was Weaver's first substantial onscreen role and boy does she show the mounds and mounds of screen presence she'd continue to utilize over the years. Unlike later films, Ripley here is more of a space officer doing her job, who in some ways appears to be the most cool-headed and professional of the lot. She sticks to procedure and protocol, handles her interactions with each crew member in a rather blunt fashion, and figures out stuff's amiss fairly quickly. This could've made her character boring, especially in contrast to the way the character carries on in the sequels, but Weaver makes Ripley very intriguing to watch onscreen with her naturalistic portrayal of a person who's motto is professionalism, through which she finds ways to survive. She shows hints of the badass yet relatable heroine we get in the later films but within Alien's more horror-based atmosphere finds the right amount of realism to ground that style, and carries the second half of the film incredibly well.
Her dynamic with all the other crew members, especially Kotto and Skerrittt, is particularly great as she brings out even more out of those characters through her interactions with them. Indeed, one of the reasons all the performances and characters in Alien work as well as they do is because of the way they are thrown together. In one contained setting, the script and cast build up a believable camaraderie and chemsitry between them all that makes the horror and sci-fi elements resonate all the more, because they just seem like such human, realistic characters in this setting.
Which brings me to the two wild cards of the film which in terms of both writing and acting, are the biggest risks and biggest payoffs of the film. Vernoica Cartwright and Ian Holm play, respectively, the most and least emotional characters in the film.
Cartwright's Lambert, navigator of the Nostromo, starts off as an adept enough and amiable navigator and ends the film as a complete and utter mess of emotions. Cartwright apparently auditioned for the role of Ripley and only found out when arriving in London for wardrobe fitting that she was to play Lambert. Alien is considered a masterpiece in female writing for characters since all roles in Alien were written as being unisex/interchangeable. This therefore allows for the film to show two female characters who are not 'types' of characters but rather, are characters in themselves. Ripley is not just some badass and Lambert is not a coward, rather she's the crew member most disinclined to take risks, and gets steadily more anxious as the risks build up; her anti-chemistry with Ripley is particularly good in establishing this. Of course the highlight of her performance is indeed the big emotional scenes where she reacts in a terrified fashion to the threat of the Alien, and as Invasion of the Body Snatchers showed, Cartwright is perhaps the greatest onscreen screamer of all-time. The way her character is utilized within the story is great as she's not just some victim, she reflects a very real, palatable sense of horror that evokes itself through her so viscreally, we feel entirely for her, making her character's demise incredibly effective.
As for Holm, won't get into too much detail in case you, my dear reader have yet to see the film, but safe to say it's one of its most intriguing elements, the way his performance and his character plays into the plot...(excellent review of his performance here, http://actoroscar.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/alternate-best-supporting-actor-1979_5.html).
Having gotten that whole ensemble out of the way, let's talk about how the film is structured. The brooding first act soon gives way to an exhilirating, heart pounding second act, an absolutely terrifying and yet so intriguing transitions into the third act, and the third act itself repeatedly pushes and pulls the carpet from underneath you to shock and release, release and shock.
Scott's approach with the horror sequences is to switch back and forth from a more casual, still brooding air to occasional bursts of visceral horror. This works incredibly well in the three most famous scary sequences in the film: the first three deaths of Kane, Brett and Dallas. All are masterfully handled death scenes, the first so unsuspecting and given weight by Hurt's incredible work in the scene, the second with such an ominous build-up and set in such a perfectly grimy setting, and the last one being my favourite scene in the film. The film entirely subverts the usual idea of the heroic captain by having him do his very heroic act of going into the vents, seemingly making progress in hunting down the Alien before oh so swiftly and terrifyingly becoming the victim himself.
The final act of the film is as incredible even though the on-screen violence noticeably diminished. The deaths of Parker and Lambert are mostly obscured from the audience and indeed, Ripley, but it works SO well. There's little touches like SPOILERS the way Ash tries to subdue and kill Ripley to prevent her from killing the Alien by strangulation with an adult magazine that make the film even more unsettling, by having two characters who were respectively so prim and proper, and resilient and assertive, switch into a crazed, almost animalistic struggle in an instance. It helps to build up to the intensely physical final few minutes of the film with such subtle ways that you might not pick up on first watch.
The Alien actually doesn't appear all that much in full form till the final act, and it's all we need to feel the full force of its horror. Lambert's terror that literally freezes her to the spot is completely believable as what the Alien has done, plus the overall design of it (another one of Giger's ingenious creations), is marvellous. Nightmarishly eyeless, gaping drooling jaws, and the somewhat disturbing sexual overtones to its physique and 'facehugging' antics, all add to the whole idea of a creature whose sole purpose is to kill and propagate. It's just a chilling idea all thrown into one beast. The conflict between the Alien and Ripley on an ideological level would be further explored in the sequels, but here it works just perfectly as a creepy, atmospheric cat-and-mouse and cat chase in the last few minutes of the film, which could have proved extraneous if not for the incredible power each sequence carries. You feel the sheer effort and diligence of the cast and crew in every sequence inwhat is truly a masterpiece in terror.
A nice little animated film about a nice little mouse on a nice little adventure, with an absolutely grand soundtrack to accompany it. One of Horner's earliest works and certainly one of his finest.
9. Aliens
Instead of trying to ape Jerry Goldsmith's iconic, atmospheric score to the original, Horner opts to go all-out on the senses with this barnstorming assault on the senses, fitting perfectly with the dynamic action direction of James Cameron. No wonder they decided to work multiple times after this.
8. Cocoon
The film itself is just decent, but the score is wonderful as it completely captures the sense of mysticism and yet normal, everyday life the film is striving towards.
7. Field of Dreams
One of my favourite sports films of all-time, and one of the most feel-good 80s films. Horner's score to it may be considered overly schmaltzy to some, but for me it's pitch-perfect and captures that particular vibe of 'Murica so very well.
6. Apollo 13
Again, 'Murica! Horner's work on this 'disaster in space' film is compelling because he firstly brings out the right amount of rousing patriotism and valour to his work, while gradually combining it with a crescendo tension and sense of fear, before releasing it into an incredibly rousing finale.
5. Apocalypto
It's sad that Horner and Mel Gibson will never get to work together again, since everything they collaborated upon was fabulous. This heart-pounding, adventurous score melds together a throwback to the exciting adventure stories of yesteryear with a very visceral, hard-hitting tinge of grit at its side.
4. The Land Before Time
Second greatest dinosaur theme tune of all-time, and that's certainly nothing to be ashamed of. One of the more underrated animated films of all-time is accompanied with a great soundtrack that brings out both the childish, exuberant enthusiasm of an adventurer's mind with a more solemn, darker edge of coming of age.
3. Glory
A downright brilliant war movie about a very important point in Civil War history, Horner's no guts, no glory tribute to these brave men is absolutely spellbinding work on all fronts. He brings the bloody intensity and tragedy of the war in perfect alignment with the glorious pursuit of justice and freedom, and makes each frame of the film's rousing and heartbreaking sequences resonate.
2. Braveheart
One of the greatest soundtracks of all-time, period. The use of the flute is particularly brilliant by Horner as it brings such power to the smaller, intimate moments of William Wallace's journey. Then in the huge epic scenes it becomes a downright bombastic and incredibly rousing bit of classic Horner that gives so much life to each fight. Then at the end there's two scenes which makes use of Horner's tune perfectly; FREEDOM, and of course, 'You have bled with Wallace...now bleed with me'. Horner's score evokes the best of Hollywood: it's epic but not excessive, grand but somehow restrained in the right ways, and incredibly memorable. 1. Titanic
However much one might hate Titanic, come on, the score. Is. Great. Though Cameron may have at times faltered with some of the dramatic intricacies, Horner helps mask those deficiencies with his amazing score. Sissel Kyrkjebø's voice over the songs is simply beautiful and adds to each needed moment of emphasis perfectly. 'Leaving Port' is such an exciting, beautiful tune that perfectly evokes the feelings of those leaving for a better life abroad the Titanic, the score in the tense action sequences and sinking scenes makes them even more harrowing, and of course 'An Ocean of Memories' and 'My Heart Will Go On' make me tear up every time I watch the film, even when I tell myself, I've had enough of Jack and Rose's shit this time round.
In a way, the name Christoph Waltz tells you all you need to know about the man. 'Christoph' - now that's an interesting name. Like Christopher, but not quite. You've seen actors like Christoph Waltz before probably, foreign actors who make a big splash in Hollywood with a very particular, somewhat exotic flair to their abilities when placed in the English vernacular. But no one quite like ol' Christoph. It's something I noticed the first time I watched a film with him in it; there's something inherently magnetic to his screen presence.
Waltz - a quick google search defines it as, either 'a dance in triple time performed by a couple, who turn rhythmically round and round as they progress around the dance floor', or to 'act casually, confidently, or inconsiderately'. Well the first definition seems to tie in perfectly with Mr Waltz's speech patterns; each line of dialogue from his mouth, even if it's in a language I don't understand, seems attuned to a very particular rhythm in a very particular time. Each word seems to have a little sets of steps that spins round and round the other words, halting and going again in particular moments, and in his longer monologues they deliciously tie in with each other to create a rather beautiful sound. This all paired with that unique Austrian accent of his, makes for quite the treat.
To 'act casually' - Waltz can certainly do that, sometimes to the detriment of some of his lesser Hollywood stock villain turns. He's never bad in the likes of Spectre, The Three Musketeer, The Green Hornet, The Legend of Tarzan, but there's almost too casual an air of 'been there, done that, works, so I'll do it again' to his villainous routine in those films. Which isn't to say that he can't bring both the casual and effortless air of a seasoned veteran to his performances - see, Inglorious Basterds for an incredible portrayal of 'Jew Hunter' Hans Landa who goes about his work with the casual air of someone who knows EXACTLY what he's doing, at every twist and turn.
To 'act confidently' - I've seen Christoph Waltz performances I don't like, but I've never seen one where he seems anything less than confident in the role. Even when I don't agree with the take on a performance, for instance his hammy performance as an abusive husband in Big Eyes, the criticism is never on his confidence in the role. He seems assured of what he's doing in the role at any given point. Even in the roles where he seems to be doing for the paycheck, he's completely in control at all times.
To 'act inconsiderately' - well then. Waltz has developed in some circles, a reputation for being an 'ungenerous' actor in some circles these past few years. I've read criticism of his performance as Landa by some who say he's too broad, tries to bring too much attention to his character, too self-absorbed with little flourishes like THAT'S A BINGO. I disagree - his approach in the role is not 'inonsiderate', so to speak, it's perfectly fitting to the showboating character.
And moreover, for every overplayed, overwrought and yes, inconsiderately hammy portrayal like Big Eyes and bored, phoned in workmanlike work in Horrible Bosses and The Green Hornet, he does marvellous things like his terrifically understated, poignant turn as an isolated computer programmer in The Zero Theorem, his complex work as the callous circus owner in Water for Elephants, and of course Dr King Schultz.
I talked about the great villainous work by Leonardo DiCaprio and Samuel L. Jackson in Django Unchained a while ago, so it seems only fitting that I should delve into the great heroic work of Waltz in the same film. Dr King Schultz is one of those characters who's just a terrific guy in every way, there wouldn't be any reason you wouldn't want to associate yourself with him, well that's unless you're staring into the wrong end of his gun barrel. The German dentist-turned-bounty hunter schtick could've worn off very soon if played wrongly, but Quentin Tarantino and Waltz craft one of the former's most memorable characters by making him not only a delightful presence in the film, but also the character who drives it. Jamie Foxx's performance as Django is one I like more than most, but I'd agree that he starts off as a fairly stoic character. Waltz's showboating but incredibly generous performance helps to make Django an interesting character by his chemistry with him, as each long-winded, eloquent and frequently hilarious aside by Waltz is met by a delightful deadpan response from Foxx. Best is probably when Schultz is aiming his pistol at the last remaining Brittle brother and asks Django if he's sure that's him in the distance:
Dr King Schultz is just simple one of the most delightful characters in film history, and Waltz is a big part of this. He stands out wonderfully with his usual showmanship and eloquent antics, but at the same time generates such a great dynamic with all of his co-stars. In particular, his scenes with DiCaprio are absolutely fantastic as one plays the sharpshooter who can kill at will, with a warm and compassionate heart, and the other a man who's probably never killed anyone by his own hand his whole life but is stone-cold and utterly cruel, despicable. It's a performance like this which is why I sincerely hope Waltz finds a bit more variation in his roles in the upcoming years. He'll probably never be able to top Landa, but Schultz shows there's so much more ground he could cover as an actor.
It's been more than four decades since Steven Speilberg's Jaws splashed its way into cinemas, and that's worthy of note. It's of those films that's thoroughly a product of its particular time and context of its production. There's aspects of it that are technically, to use the overused and overly broad term, 'dated' - the special effects being the most prominent among them.
Let's get it out of the way - Bruce the shark is not really a marvel in technical terms, having been constructed on a fairly limited budget, and having various malfunctions beset it over the course of filming. Speilberg would go on to have much more convincing SFX flourishes over the course of his career, from the spaceships of Close Encounters of the Third Kind to E.T., the Indiana Jones films, Jurassic Park of course, and really pretty much every one of his recent films. But there's a reason why he had a bigger budget for his successive films, why he had an increasing amount of control, influence that propelled him into King of Hollywood, a status which I do believe he still holds today. Reason being that for all of Bruce the shark's technical inadequacies, Speilberg not only found a way to nullify them, but actually turn them to the film's advantage; it's one of the most suspenseful films ever precisely because the actual appearances of the shark are so sporadic and limited. Beyond that, it's a cracking horror film that sets you on the edge of your seats through each re-watch, a fantastic adventure film, and pretty much perfect in all regards from script to acting to of course, direction.
The premise is straightforward: shark terrorizes small seaside town of Amity Island, and three men of conflicting ideologies and personalities - Police Chief Martin Brody (Roy Scheider), oceanographer Matt Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss), and professional shark hunter Quint (Robert Shaw).
Talking about the writing behind these three characters is actually a good point to start off with, especially since the second half of the film centres almost entirely on them, but before that I'll get onto the script as a whole. The adaptational work on Peter Benchley's novel is exquisite as it pares down a needlessly convoluted storyline into as I've mentioned, a very direct and simple central lot. Gone are the mafia subplots, the love triangle, the to-and-fro rendezvous from coast to shore in the second half, instead replaced by a tighter, concise storyline that's absolutely watertight in its execution. Not a scene feels out of place, they all help move the plot along even if it's characters just shooting the breeze or having dinner.
The threat of the shark is swiftly established in the opening scene, the conflict between Brody and the greedy mayor of Amity is swiftly established through their initial rapport descending into animosity, Quint and Hooper's character introductions are economically handled, the transition from land to sea is seamlessly handled, and not once does a jump scare feel inserted just for the sake of being a jump scare. Hooper discovering Ben Gardener's body is a terrifying scene, but it also helps to add to the stakes, establish more conflict, and sets up another the iconic beach sequence.
Paring the story down to its most basic elements also allows the characters to become more fully fleshed and prominent, and not just potential dead meat, or infallible heroes for the shark to play around with. Scheider's Brody is an excellent lead for the story. Scheider was an actor who was always at the very least solid, and here he acts as an anchor to the story by being the very subdued, reactionary figure to the shark and its monstrous acts. Having Brody as a literal fish out of water in Amity, having only just recently moved to the area, is effective in making him an outsider of sorts, which helps him to stand out even when technically he's just doing his job. The film establishes him as an unwilling hero but very willing, brave police officer and the transition of the character is a great and underrated part of the film.
Then there's Richard Dreyfuss really Dreyfuss-ing it up as the nebbish, neurotic, brainy sort. The character of Hooper was changed from the original All-American incarnation of cocky unpleasantness in the novel, where he was basically a rival to Brody and slept with Brody's wife. Thankfully they removed all these elements from the film and changed Hooper to suit Dreyfuss more. Hooper is the sort of comedic relief of the film, and Dreyfuss in his usual fashion lights the screen up with his presence whenever he's on with a wisecrack here and there. He uses his signature style to beef up the role substantially and has some great chemistry and anti-chemistry with Scheider, and Shaw.
Robert Shaw's performance must be seen to be believed. You'll believe this man's been at sea all his life, you'll believe all the horrors he's had to endure, you'll completely understand why he has such conviction that he MUST hunt down this shark. Quint could've gone completely wrong in the wrong hands. Instead, he's probably one of the most iconic film characters in cinematic history. It's probably Shaw's best performance, which is really saying something, and he perfects the triangle of characters who set off to hunt down Bruce the shark.
Setting up such likeable and rather identifiable characters makes the film resonate even more with its horror elements. The human element in Jaws is always there through the work of the actors and script; but Speilberg elevates it all to masterpiece levels with his depiction of the horror. Few directors can make daytime scenes scary, it's really a talent, but Speilberg does it not once, but twice to superlative effect. The cinematography, whether it's in the more brooding, suspenseful sequences, or the more adventurous, overtly thrilling ones, is pitch-perfect; one can never forget how effective the zoom-in on Brody's face when the beach attack by the shark begins. Then of course, John Williams' simplistic, minimalist horror score which soon transitions into a rousing adventure tune, without losing a beat of suspense. This really is a great horror film that should be watched by everyone, and no better time than next week, really.
Also, do tell me which of these retroactive Jaws casts tickle your fancy the most, and choose any director if you can think of any.
2010s Jaws
Brody: David Harbour
Hooper: Paul Dano
Quint: Liev Schreiber
2000s Jaws
Brody: Don Cheadle
Hooper: Robert Downey Jr.
Quint: Gary Oldman
1990s Jaws
Brody: Viggo Mortensen
Hooper: Sam Rockwell
Quint: Ian McKellen
1980s Jaws
Brody: James Woods
Hooper: Jeff Goldblum
Quint: Harry Dean Stanton
As someone who hasn't read the novel in full, I can still see how this adaptation excludes a great deal, since a lot of the film feels unfinished and too quickly wrapped up. The parallel story of Konstantin Levin and Princess Kitty could've fallen entirely flat since the film actually delves with considerably little focus into it, thankfully Vikander is here to save the day. She turns Kitty into a fully fleshed, multi-dimensional character with very limited screentime, exudes such exuberance and charm in her initial presentation of the character, having some fantastic chemistry with Gleeson and making her character's little arc resonate a great deal.
4. The Danish Girl
A rather limited role as Einar Wegener's wife, Gerta, as she's required to be the reactionary face to Eddie Redmayne's flashier performance as the titular character. Even though I don't quite agree with her Oscar win (firstly, she deserved to win for another film, secondly, she was category fraud, thirdly, Jennifer Jason Leigh and Rooney Mara, who admittedly was an even more egregious case of category fraud), I will say she manages to make it seem the role isn't limited. She plays each emotional moment perfectly, and even though every action she takes and reaction she makes is in response to Einar, she depicts the struggling love and growing selflessness of Gerta in a compelling fashion.
3. A Royal Affair
A rather compelling historical drama I might need to re-visit to wholly appreciate, Vikander is perfect as Princess Caroline Matilda of Great Britain, who enters a loveless marriage and cultureless lifestyle in the Danish Court and soon becomes entranced by the Enlightened German doctor who comes a'knocking, played by none other than Mads Mikkelsen. I would love to see the two actors work again someday, as both are incredible in playing their character's emotions so close to the chest, unleashing them in the perfect moments while still keeping in with the film's restrained style. Excellent work from Vikander, and I need to check out more of her foreign language work.
2. Testament of Youth
The compelling real-life story of Vera Brittain, an Oxford student who goes against her family's wishes and enlists as a WWII nurse, is brought to cinematic life in a rather by-the-books British prestige biopic. The film works despite its workmanlike direction, in large part due to the performances. The likes of Kit Harrington, Colin Morgan and Taron Egerton are extremely impressive as young men affected by the trauma of war, but carrying the film on her shoulder is Ms Vikander. There's not a single false moment to her performance as she balances the idealism of the young nurse with the growing pains of the disillusioned war fighter, and most importantly evokes the strength and courage, never one-dimensional but very real, of a real-life hero.
1. Ex Machina
I've written a great deal about her performance already through last year's awards season, her being my Best Supporting Actress 2015 winner and all, but let me briefly re-iterate: her first properly 'meaty' role, and she knocks it out of a ballpark in an exceptional and compelling sci-fi film, so of course it's the film she wasn't nominated for (see also: Brad Pitt being nominated for Moneyball instead of The Tree of Life). Ava could've been just a tool utilized by Alex Garland's direction to play against the human characters, but in Vikander's hands she's a dynamic, enigmatic experiment in so many different facets, an intriguing depiction of not only artificial intelligence but also the artifice of 'humanity'.
As for the other films I've seen her in, she's okay but nothing special in The Man From U.N.C.L.E. and Jason Bourne, and has pretty thankless roles in The Fifth Estate and Burnt. I need to see both Pure and The Light Between Oceans.
Gleeson
Hon. Mention: Star Wars: The Force Awakens
Though I'd have liked to see Max Von Sydow take on the role actually, Gleeson is a great deal of fun as Hux, sneering his way through the film in an oh so British fashion, emulating Peter Cushing in the best possible fashion, and nailing his big speech halfway through the film. Small role, big impact.
5. True Grit
Again, small role, big impact. Gleeson doesn't have much screentime, but his scene as one of two men interrogated by Jeff Bridge's Rooster Cogburn to the whereabouts of the murderer on the run Chaney is one of the highlights of the Coen Brothers' masterpiece. Gleeson plays Moon, the equivalent of Dennis Hopper's role in the original film and creates an unsettling mess of emotions in the man in the few minutes he is onscreen, standing as another solid part of a great film.
4. The Revenant
A performance which like the film I've grown more fond of over time. Gleeson may have been an odd choice for the role of the officer in charge of the trapper expedition, but he really does disappear into the role of Andrew Henry. He's good as one of the crucial moral centres of the film, making so much out of his small appearances throughout in showing the discontent of Henry towards John Fitzgerald (Tom Hardy), and making a lot out of his louder scenes.
3. Anna Karenina
I could've watched a whole film about Levin since Gleeson makes him such a wonderful figure to follow. Never cheating in his portrayal of the character as a well-intentioned romantic but also a bit foolish at times, Gleeson like Vikander makes a lot out of his character's arc within the film and absolutely nails the dialogue spot on, his speeches and digressions always feeling so stylized and yet, so genuine.
2. Ex Machina
Probably one of the more underrated performances of last year, Gleeson may not have the complex, deceptive personas of Ava or the exuberant, stylized brutishness of Nathan to play with, but he fulfills his role every bit as well as Vikander and Oscar Isaac within the scheme of the film. His chemistry with Vikander, as in Anna Karenina, is fantastic, and he gives a realistic and compelling depiction of a computer geek seriously out of his depth, a perfect straight man to the more colourful characters, and makes you really feel for his character by the end.
1. About Time
His biggest role to date, he plays the Hugh Grant equivalent in a Richard Curtis film, although I must admit, I prefer this performance greatly to any of Grant's performances. Gleeson is exceptional as a seemingly unexceptional, normal lad...who happens to have inherited from his family line, the ability to travel back in time. A winning romantic comedy, Gleeson is first and foremost great as a leading man in this regard, as he's so charming and sweet, and also funny without trying too hard. He's particularly entertaining in showing his character's initial struggles with attracting Mary (Rachel McAdams), or his interactions with his kooky father (Bill Nighy) where he's a great balancing act to his dad's warm-hearted wisecracks. The film gradually takes a more serious turn, and over the course of that transition Gleeson moulds his performance into a suitably more serious and heartrending turn. His chemistry with both Nighy and McAdams is brilliant and helps play into some of the most emotionally powerful moments of the film. A great leading turn, and I'm excited to see if filmmakers give him another chance to show this side of his abilities again.
Could've been an ordinary, decent quirky indie comedy, unfortuantely that sort of film just doesn't seem to really fit into Boyle's ouevre as a director. He really misfires on almost all major fronts with his overly kinetic direction ill-suited to the story, and the lack of chemistry between the two leads in Cameron Diaz and a surprisingly bland Ewan McGregor. There's a bit of fun to be had in the supporting cast of underrated character actors (Stanley Tucci, Ian Holm, and especially Delroy Lindo and Holly Hunter), but overall not a huge fan of this one.
9. Slumdog Millionaire (2.5/5)
As a huge fan of the original book Q & A I was severely disappointed with the adaptational condensation of this. The book was a wide-ranging exploration of so many different aspects of Indian culture, from Bollywood to its darker, grimier underworld. This one, a la the adaptation of Forrest Gump, centres it on a love story. Unlike Forrest Gump however, it simply doesn't have the sentimental exuberance or winning heart to propel it forward. Its protagonist is extremely bland and not in an interesting way like the novel, the characters are one-note, and I particularly hated what they did with the character of Salim. Not a terrible film, but certainly not Best Picture material. 'Jai Ho' is a great song though.
8. The Beach (3/5)
A very average film. It builds up its strange island community decently, DiCaprio is a fine lead, and Boyle's directorial touches are hit and miss, with the hits being entertaining and the misses being rather jarring. I need to re-watch this but nothing really stands out to me, which is both a good and bad thing.
7. Shallow Grave (3.5/5)
The buildup of the film is actually rather exceptional, as Boyle creates such a delicately fine thread of dark comedy and just unpleasantness with his portrayal of the three very nasty flatmates (Ewan McGregory, Kerry Condon, Christopher Ecclestone) who encounter a very nasty surprise one day from their new tenant. Then the film goes off the rails in the third act with a series of misfortunes which quite frankly are a bit rubbish. It redeems itself with a cracking ending, though, with Ewan's first ultimate troll of his 'friends' in a Danny Boyle film.
6. 28 Days Later (3.5/5)
A fantastic opening and buildup, floundering in the third act. Up till then I found it a brilliant, atmospheric zombie horror with a very chilling and understated sense of place, and held together by some rather great, naturalistic performances. Then in the third act it all falls apart, and the ending I watched was frankly a doozy. Still, can't ignore the brilliance of the first two acts, and it introduced Cillian Murphy to Hollywood.
5. Steve Jobs (3.5/5)
ONCE AGAIN goes off the rails in the third act. Michael Fassbender's lead performance I've grown to appreciate a bit more, it's not amazing but it works for the film, the screenplay is rather solid most of the way through, and the editing is largely fantastic. There's a bit of tonal imbalance all the way through which really spirals out of control in the third act, impacting the rather clinical and fascinatingly impersonal way the film was handled up till then. Still, schmaltzy ending aside, this is some of Boyle's best work as a director.
4. Millions (4/5)
One Danny Boyle film involving gangsters where nothing all that grotesque really happens, this is just a nice, sweet family film that's nothing amazing, but is consistently entertainnig throughout, and has quite the heartfelt, winning sense of humour in its story about two brothers who find an abandoned bag of money and are at odds at how to deal with it.
3. Sunshine (4/5)
It's not quite Alien but few films are, and it's a finely made sci-fi thriller for what it is. The crew of Icarus II is kind of just a bunch of sci-fi movie cliches thrown together, but the cast of underrated actors (Murphy, Michelle Yeoh, Benedict Wong, Rose Byrne, Mark Strong) and good ol' Captain America before he was Captain America as the All-American hero, do a solid job with them, and the central plot of the crew flying to jump start the dying sun with bombs is rather thrilling for the most part. It becomes a slasher film in the third act, which results in a slightly jarring transition, but it still maintains a rather tense and atmospheric pace that pays off with a pretty stunning finale.
2. 127 Hours (4/5)
Not quite the 'based on real life' one-man show you'd been advertised, since it's more of a two-man show really. James Franco is rather good as intrepid explorer Aaron Ralston who one day when rock climbing finds himself trapped in a rock canyon with his right arm pinned down by a boulder. The ensuing film manages to be rather fascinating throughout for such a static concept, as Franco and Boyle together to make Aaron a likeable and charming enough guy, and bring enough emotional power to his plight. The editing and limited cinematography is fantastic, and it really does live up to its powerful ending.
1. Trainspotting (5/5)
Easily his masterpiece, and I can't wait for T2. I must confess to never having read the original Irvine Welsh novel myself, not that I think it'll be bad or anything, but just the nature of the language would be immensely difficult for me to sift through. That's not related to this in anyway except for the fact that I first watched Trainspotting with no idea what it'd be about besides heroin, and heroin addiction. Well there's that certainly, and one of the scenes involving a baby (actually, two scenes involving a baby) are some of the most downright harrowing sequences of drug addiction I've ever seen.
It's first and foremost, an amazing film from a directorial and editing perspective. From the first opening montage set to Iggy Pop's 'Lust for Life', the pace almost never relents in the best possible way. Ewan McGregor's performance as our narrator Mark Renton really deserved an Oscar nomination, especially considering how lacklustre the nominees that year were; as did Robert Carlyle as the only principal character in the film who doesn't take heroin at any point, but is the most monstrous and terrifying of all, Begbie. Carlyle's performance actually sums up the film incredibly well; rather inimidating and loud, yet also extremely funny, sometimes within the same scene. The tonal changes from extreme comedy like Spud's (Ewan Bremmer) worst interview ever to Sick Boy (Johnny Lee Miller) delivering his iconic speeches about Sean Connery, to the frankly depressing scenes of the heroin addicts at their lowest, struggling to find a purpose in the world. It manages to be an entertaining and immersive dark comedy while at the same time, a haunting depiction about the dangers of substance abuse. It never moralizes, yet gets the morals across.
Also, the soundtrack is amazing, and features one of the greatest song transitions of all-time.
Note: in order to keep it fair, I've limited it to 1 film per director
Hon. Mentions: Reservoir Dogs, Raging Bull, Back to the Future, Satruday Night Fever, Miller's Crossing, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, Chariots of Fire, Run Lola Run, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Touch of Evil, Forrest Gump (yes, so sue me), To Kill a Mockingbird, Once Upon a Time in the West, Carol, Lawrence of Arabia, Raging Bull, any Bond film opening. If I counted Magnolia's opening character introductions as credits, it'd be right at the top of the list.
And I'll also be leaving off the credit sequences to the next two Halloween horror films I'll be covering on my countdown. Technically cheating a bit to get some of my other favourites onto the list, but they'd be right up there in my top 10 too.
Hon. Mention: The Graduate and its 1990s counterpart, Jackie Brown
I only left these two off the list because, firstly, one director one film limit, and secondly I can't decide which of these I love more. The Graduate perfectly paces the bored Benjamin Braddock's life to the tune of The Sound of Silence, and Jackie Brown struts her stuff to Across 110th Street with such aplomb. Both credit sequences immeidately capture your attention and captivate you to watch the film.
10. Se7en
Fincher's title sequences are always great even if the film is otherwise a bit lacklustre (see: The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo). The visual panache given to the opening credits of Se7en perfectly set us in this decrepit, downtrodden and deadbeat city we're about to enter, setting the tone perfectly. so credits to Kyle Cooper for devising the great hellish entrance into Fincher's magnus opus.
9. Requiem for a Dream
Harrowing without giving too much away in one go, Darren Afronsky's masterpiece remains so with every re-watch, and a lot of credit must go to the spellbinding opening sequence wherein we get a slice of life and slice of fantasy alongside each other.
8. For a Few Dollars More
Again, torn by this and any of the 'Dollars Trilogy' as they all have cracking openings, not to mention Once Upon a Time in the West which has one of the greatest credits buildups of all-time. I'll choose this one though because watching this for the first time, I was blown away by the cinematography, the simplicity, the music, the use of fonts, everything is perfect.
7. Fargo
Again, you could pick any number of Coen Brothers films to get onto this list, but I must say the opening to Fargo works for me just as well every time I see it. Exceptionally minimalist in the best possible way, Carter Burwell's beautiful soundtrack draws you into the snowy atmosphere of Fargo with such a chilling, serene air.
6. Raging Bull
Not the biggest fan of the film ever, but I do think it's a masterpiece in filmmaking in all technical regards. The opening sequence like Fargo's, is minimalist, but exceptionally effective, intertwining classical music with Robert De Niro's Jake LaMotta practising his punches in a misty boxing ring.
5. Watchmen
Hate putting a Zack Snyder film on one of my lists, but the opening credits to Watchmen are such a masterclass in stylistic choices, from one of Snyder's effective usages of sl-mo, and effortless exposition, plus the perfect addition of Bob Dylan's The Times They Are A Changin' that it was always inevitable the rest of the film couldn't live up to it that much. I don't hate the film, I think it's alright, but the opening credits are brilliant.
4. Vertigo
Hitchcock always liked his credit sequences, and you can see an interesting transition over his career from the more traditional title sequences of Rebecca and Foreign Correspondent, to the more stylistically innovative likes of Rear Window. Vertigo's Saul Bass designed opening is my favourite, iconic for a very good reason - it conveys and foreshadows the film in a subtle and enigmatic fashion, and even though the opening scenes of Vertigo are fairly straightforward, the dread from the credits sequence carries forth momentum.
3. The Hateful Eight
Pretty much every Tarantino film has a cracking opening sequence. Even something relatively minimalist like the Kill Bill openings and the one to Inglorious Basterds are memorable. Pulp Fiction has an unforgettable one that segues in the perfect fashion to 'Miserlou' and 'Jungle Boogie'. Django Unchained has an amazing throwback sequence that is so perfectly QT. My favourite though is his most recent one, which blends Morricone with some stunning snowy cinematography, gradually building up to a crescendo of tension that never relents through the film. Even if you don't like the film (and there are many dissenters), you have to admire this sequence.
2. Amadeus
An incredible opening sequence where we are thrown in medias res into the attempted suicide of Salieri. Cue Mozart's music being played over the credits. Adapting such a grand play to the silver screen must have been a huge challenge, and Milos Forman and co. did they right thing by stating from the very start, that this is why it deserves the cinematic treatment.
1. Drive
Easily my favourite opening title sequence of all-time. I've grown to love the film over time, more and more, but even when I merely liked it, that opening credits sequence set to 'Nightcall' has been one of my favourites of all-time. I actually think it might be my favourite scene in the film as it sets the dreamlike, yet gritty tones of the film in perfect alignment with one another. The use of different camera angles and perspective is incredible in placing us in the Driver's particular mindset, and watching it in parallel with the ending sequence makes it even more brilliant.
The Turn of the Screw is a novella I'd recommend everyone to read at some point in their lives. Ghost stories aren't my sort of thing in general, but Henry James' seminal Gothic tale of an unnamed governess who arrives at a mansion in Essex to help take care of two most unusual children, is as well-regarded and iconic as it is for a reason. It lingers on with you for days after reading it, and without going for cheap scares or easy answers crafts a palatably horrifying and yet intensely subtle tale of ambiguities.
Such a story is tough to bring to the silver screen; and thus the production team behind The Innocents tried to avoid this initial obstacle, perhaps, by choosing to adapt their screenplay more directly from the stage play of the same name, rather than the original source novella. They needn't have worried if that was the case. Jack Clayton's masterful 1960s horror never pigeonholes itself as either a gothic or psycholcial horror; it's a bit of both really, and Clayton and the film's screenwriters William Archibald and Truman Capote (!!) have a bit of a fun with both sides in bringing James' tale to life.
The film begins with one of the most beautiful, unnerving and minimalist credit sequences ever. Beginning with a blank, black screen with an overture of 'O Willow Waly', that somehow manages to unnerve with so very little, we technically begin in medias res but it is sort of obscured from our awareness; the theme to The Innocents by Georges Auric is both at once creepy and somewhat childlike and...innocent. It sets the tone perfectly and makes you want to watch on, even though the initial few scenes of The Innocents may seem like fairly standard sort of 'set up' for your typical horror film.
The unnamed narrator of The Turn of the Screw is given a name here, as well as one of the greatest actresses in film history, and my personal favourite actress of all-time, Deborah Kerr, to play her. Kerr was actually close to forty when filming The Innocents yet never feels miscast as the a character implied to be in her early twenties in the novel. Always the queen of expressive eyes and physically emotive states, Kerr makes Miss Giddens both a slightly more mature, more experienced figure than we've come to expect with similar sorts of characters, yet there's also a very childlike nervousness and rectitude to her. Kerr simply fits the role perfectly, bringing a very particular, old-fashioned style to her governess figure while blending it perfectly with a disposition more fitting to a timid, scared young girl, who's about to be plunged into an environment far beyond her control.
The orphaned nephews of the wealthy Uncle (a curiously tiny role for Michael Redgrave) she is sent to take care of in question, Miles (Martin Stephens) and Flora (Pamela Franklin), are not all that off-putting initially, nor are they meant to be. You're meant to see them first as just normal kids, Miles being the slightly more troublesome, and cheeky sort of lad, and Flora the more naturally endearing and sweet sort. Franklin's performance as Flora is one which draws appreciation from me upon every re-watch. She's very charming and makes you really enjoy every moment her jolly face and youthful exuberance permeates onscreen, which makes the subsequent revelations of the film all the more jarring; her breakdown scenes at the interrogations of Miss Giddens are incredible scenes, as Franklin shows an incredible amount of visceral power that would make most actresses that age crumble. She holds her own incredibly well in, far as I'm concerned, the greatest actress of old Hollywood, and that she was a mere 11 years old when this film was released is just amazing.
The subject of the interrogations is ghosts, of course, ghosts that are apparently haunting the estate, of the deceased, decadent valet Quint (Peter Wyngarde) and the previous governess Miss Jessel (Clytie Jessop). The handling of the supernatural elements is of course, subdued, extremely subtle, because like the source material, whether the ghosts are actually there, or whether they're the byproduct of Miss Giddens' twisted imagination, is never explicitly made clear even towards the harrowing end. The ambiguities could have fallen completely flat, but they don't on two accords. The screenplay never cheats and gives a fair and balanced possibility to both perspectives without compromising the effects of either the supernatural or psychological horror. And Kerr's performance, of course, balances perfectly the two sides of Miss Giddens, utterly compelling and convincing in her fear of the ghosts, and also suggesting a mental imbalance in the margins that would lend credence to the alternative interpretation of the character.
The direction of the film by Clayton manages to be at the same time, very much faithful to the Gothic elements of traditional supernatural horror films, while at the same time delivering some pretty nifty, subversive tricks of its own. I particularly love each of the 'lighter' scenes which still suggest a bit of creepiness underneath, like in the small moments where the housekeeper Mrs Grose (a wonderfully understated Megs Jenkins) tries to hide away the past with a cheery smile, or when Miles is being just a bit too flirtatious to Miss Giddens for a boy of his age. Then the scenes where the more conventional 'horror' beats come along, Clayton remains supreme in never choosing the easy way out in terms of 'jump scares'. The first appearance of Quint is one of the scariest scenes of all-time because of how unsuspectingly it draws up on you, and any of the scenes where Miss Giddens is investigating the grounds get marvelous 'scare' payoffs because of how Clayton twists your perceptions when exactly, and in what fashion the 'scares' are going to come round.
The lighting in the film is magnificent, and manages to make the nighttime scenes in the mansion (the use of illuminating candlelight being particularly effective) as suspenseful as the daytime sequences where we get iconic images like the hazy figure of 'Quint' on the tower top, or Miss Jessel standing by the reeds in the mansion's lake. Freddie Francis' cinematography is stunning as he captures such a particular sense of horror. Not that of the grotesque variety, necessarily, but of a terrifying beauty to be found in every corner of the household. You can't bear to look away since it's all so beautifully filmed, and at the same time the underlying horror of the screenplay and direction makes you fear every second.
The most controversial element of the film is perhaps the relationship between Miss Giddens and Miles, still extremely daring even when placed in a modern-day context. Stephens quit acting a few years after this to pursue a career in architecture. Whatever the reason (apparently the allure of acting had lost its appeal), certainly wasn't for lack of talent. He plays the iconic role of Miles perfectly, by like Kerr allowing ambiguities over whether he's truly the twisted, cruel child the boarding school which kicked him out suggests he is, or simply a frail young boy being possessed by some extremely terrifying ghouls. The handling of his controversial 'affection' for Miss Giddens, and vice versa, is extremely well handled by the film. It never feels in bad taste, and works within the film as a very serious reflection of how the selfish actions of Quint and Miss Jessel could have imprinted themselves terribly on the children. Even if you take the stance that the whole 'ghosts' element of the film is purely through Miss Giddens' mindset, the predicament of the children is still terrifying; orphaned, closed away in a mansion, with the ghosts, whether literal or figurative, of two twisted people haunting it.
Miss Giddens' determination to save the children culminates in a spellbinding final act where she sends Mrs Grose and a distraught Flora away. The subsequent 'showdown' is of a most curious sort. Unlike The Omen or The Exorcist, there is not something that MUST be done, no imperative action or obstacle that very clearly must be overcome to bring things back into balance. The crux of Miss Giddens' plan fits in perfectly well with her role as governess and teacher to Miles; she must make him confess to being 'naughty', to having misbehaved at school, to having conversed with ghosts, in order to set him free. Their back and forth dynamic in the final act starts off amiably enough over dinner and dessert, with Miss Giddens playing along with Miles' glib and cryptic comments before becoming more incisive and biting in her interrogations. The gradual descent of Miles from the confident, cheery child masking something to a swearing, obscene, manically laughing child with nothing to hide is terrifying, with Stephens and Kerr selling the scenes with their pitch-perfect reactions, and help make Henry James' amazing ending work. The film spends most of its duration being a masterclass in horror and suspense, but ends on an incredibly poignant, heartbreaking note that gradually builds itself up, and creeps onto you the whole way through.
