Author: BRWC

  • Gintama: Review

    Gintama: Review

    Gintama: Review. By Christopher Patterson.

    The Show For Everyone Who Is ,To Put It Bluntly, Just In A Mood To Vibe

    I must! I must tell you, dear reader, I have been incredibly grief-stricken. 1. Eau Grief stricken! You see – do it fast – here is a show in which I have procrastinated rewatching the third time… And yet one series that I loved uncontrollably since I lost my password to the terrible subscription I had to rewatch for it. If you feel like a failure, do I have the show for you. Our leads are terrible and trashy at essentially everything. They can’t do anything right; they casually ruin everything, but not in an emotional way, just in the “I guess I kinda do. Anyway” kind of way, and our villains are just as incompetent, if not worse. Also, the show makes it very clear it is on a low budget, and multiple episodes, you could argue, were drawn by a sad assistant unhappy with their life. Doesn’t it sound awesome? And yet, it’s beautiful. The show basks in its undying putridness and is one of the best examples of a show that needs no dignity to be both biting and undeniably humorously raunchy all at once.

    Why? Because I said so. Yes.

    Gniog  i ma?

    EST-CE QUE JE VAIS?

    Gniog  i ma?

    Why does God send headlights before it rains?

    Gintama is one of those mundane series with which I have a secular bond with. If it is raining, the thrift shop isn’t open, bills have given you a due two week break due to their own due bills, and you’re very bored and more bored and then tired, then, again… do I have the show for you! And “Mr. Raindrop,” I mean, if you are in that bad of a situation, firstly,- Fate and if so then what is presentThen listen to “Mr. Raindrop.”

    While the series has its moving and story-focused moments, which I will discuss especially later, for the most part, it is just our lazy, pathetic crew doing useless stuff and just vibing. If that seems boring, then you will definitely hate this series, and I am primed to root for you and your casual, life-changing affairs. No.

    How could I? What was I thinking? How do I think I think I said to myself when I had the small flat screen television set up primed on a rusty chair and a slumber from starting a new job pains. How, just possibly how, could I spend over, possibly and probably likely, hundred or so hours of my so called life watching something. It just wasn’t natural, my subconscious said. I can’t. I can’t. And then I just hit play and it all just happened. It was one of those days when you are binging something and it ends and out of sadness you search and try to binge as many shows as possible to mend the pain uncontrollably inflicted. 

    Besides I was so young when I first watched Gintama I can only imagine

    I grabbed my coat and walked on the dotted line on the road with my head held high. 

    銀 (Silver)

    The cover is what caught my tired eye. Artwork that was circumstantial but to an interior that could’ve never meant W H A M  B A M every episode but meandering. Just perfect. It was all too prototypical till my sentences got all tired dna i was on rehto noitpo.

    銀魂 

    I told myself s-i-l-v-e-r is a 5 letter word derived from, maybe possibly likely, Latin likely to coin that something. S-s-s-I-i-l-V-v-v-E-e-e-R-r-r is a 5 letter word derived from Latin to coin something. I told myself s-o-u-l is a 4 letter word derived from, maybe possibly likely, Latin likely to coin that something. S-s-s-O-o-O-U-u-U-L-l-l is a 4 letter word derived from Latin to coin something. Something. And I knew none of those rambling over a title mattered much but it still consumed me. Just the name. I had no interest in asking someone what it meant since learning Japanese was kind of an interest of mine after my failure in learning Chinese which meant a waste of perfectly good time learning of thousands of peoples way of speaking and speaking to the behavior of the multitude of creators. And who knew that something that took nine hours of my soul was dedicated to a title that was a reference or so called pun relating to t-e-s-t-i-c-l-e-s.

    The rain pronounced on my shoulders gently and I saw a beautiful pile of rain touch my mouth. I could not walk my way home but rather just take in the surroundings. All so moist. That moment could last forever and I would never have noticed. My thoughts were on a spiral cnod alec en a’m sap édia.

    Gintoki is our chill narrator, who does essentially nothing but vibe and helps people if the price is right. Shinpachi is our blank piece of wood—no good, annoying whenever he appears, a fanboy who half the time wastes our precious time on this world by confusingly telling us how crazy everything is. Imagine the kid who no one notices, tells the teacher if she forgot they had homework, obsesses over a popular female artist, berates you if you do the slightest thing wacky, and just ruins the vibe. Kagura, is a prideful, vibey character that is a mixture of crazy and chill. Think of Killua from Hunter x Hunter just more lazy, incompetent, rude, and useless. 

    If it isn’t clear yet, all our heroes are utterly incompetent and trash at their jobs. And it’s kind of in the show’s description, mind you. If I had to explain in the good old Lewis Carroll terms:

    I want to be France or whatever it is to be predefined.

    “Avez-vous deviné l’énigme?” dit le Chapelier, se tournant de nouveau vers Alice.

    “Non, j’y renonce,” répondit Alice; “quelle est la réponse?”

    “Je n’en ai pas la moindre idée,” dit le Chapelier.

    Our heroes, everyone. Though, I kind of love it. No, scratch that; 1. Need to stop meandering I heart it.

    A thing I find so funny is how Gintama vomits on traditional shonen archetypes. It grabs the shiny Shonen Jump family of heroes and vomits on top of that legacy, uses it as toilet paper and plastic surgery advertisements, and then berates it. 

    When you see our hero literally start with running away from an epic battle and then talk about not missing some show on TV, you know you are in either one hell of a drug or one hell of a series. The sarcasm can’t and won’t escape you. 

    You also see Gintama’s art style progress, which I love, starting with this iconic retro 2000s look before becoming even more detailed and static thanks to more detailed designs.

    After a while I got stuck with the bores and took a daydream as I walked drifting now into the forest to dream bigger. Write better, I guess. J’avais même oublié ou j’avais trop peur pour lui dire que j’avais oublié de lui faire de l’aqua. Only ton knows this. That I suppose.

    The openings of Gintama are probably my favorite of any anime. “Pray,” the first opening, is a vibrant and exiting opener and beginner to the series that really sets the more breathtaking mundane fun the series has to offer. It just excites you, but not in the “I can do anything” way but rather in the “Look at the clouds for six hours” kind of way. 

    The ending to this opening, “Fuusen Gamu,” is equally good, and it is a song to listen to whenever you are going to a boring office job. The second opening, “Tooi Nioi,”  is more quiet and good listening when you are going to work in the blue hour. The ending to it is so iconic; as mentioned before, “Mr. Raindrop” is one of my favorite songs ever. It reminds me of when it rained at school and all I did was stare at the window and dream of finding a way to run out of the room and drink the rain until it was full. 

    The songs after these are mostly decent but it is until a bit later the quality of the openings and endings greatly improves. The song “Know, Know, Know” is a startling hit in the gut that prepares one for the trials ahead for our leads. The ending “Acchi Muite” is one of the most pageant songs the series has to offer with it being a goodbye almost in song form, comparable to someone moving away from those they love. It just makes you emotional to remember all the good times. “Beautiful One Day” is one of the funner songs in the series, with a poppin’ mundane as we see our leads, in the opening, just going on mundane adventures in life. “Tongeoku Alien” is another of my favorites, with its exciting level of wackiness  with our leads being literally chased down while hinting at more to come. A way to end off the discussion of the openings is to discuss the last great song in the series, and kind of the final one for now, “Wadachi.” “Wadachi” has this beautiful goodbye quality to it like “Acchi Muite” but more solemn and calm as the story has ended.

    I wrote a bit on some paragraphs and even made a structure. Just…

    Gintama is one of those series it is easy to get lost in. I remember starting this review with a discussion of the casual Gintama episode reflected through the solid opening episode but lost myself in watching twenty more episodes before I could get past writing one dull and cranky sentence.

    Though it’s oh so lengthy run that so many true established works may have succumbed to its effects, never did Gintama. Never. Not one episode, if I had to use precise prose, fallen to the disarray of repetitive existence. May each episode, Hieaki inscribed, be true to you and it shall be true to itself. That trust Hideaki had in the viewer to flow with his lack thereof is his opus.

    One of my favorite things about Gintama is how, yes, it’s not the same as other shonens but in less of the blunt ways it delivers this and more of the personal bare ways it completes this. Even when it is at its most traditional shonen, it never caves in to letting our characters have a cheerful end. One episode we have an old man who’s dying and wants to see a lady in his past whom he met briefly and it turns out to be a character we know well already in the universe but when she meets him they say nothing rather he envisions her as before and passes. She may not even notice him nor care but he got his happy ending. Gintama purposefully leaves it feeling raw while giving you that confused yet understanding smile which is so relatable to the common mundane existence we all live in which Gintama possesses like no other. Or when Shinpachi expresses to Gintoi why he idolizes that singer and how he heard her when no one else did and it made his day and while she may and seems not to remember him, he will never forget what he got from it and will cherish it always and regardless. This humanness and revealingness the series has to illustrating how we get by day by day is its voice.

    I would call Gintama’s characters a reflection of the shades of the creator rather than a revealing portrait of society. Gintama is a world of so many diverse and complex characters I would be here for pages after pages so to simplify, Gintama’s world is vast but is held together under a weave of “not everything is as it seems.” This goes for pretty much every character, even if not shown, where everyone in Gintama, as in works like Proust, reveal a different side to them that was always there but just needed the right moment to shine a spotlight on it. The seemingly unintentional aspect to Hideaki’s writing is how raw and vulnerable he feels in it. Gintama feels like an unintentional portrait of someone navigating the world through their writing. An unintentional coming of age story. As, like life, the story never ends after the big battle and the simple ones may be just as great.

    1. Better Structure – Paragraphs too loose and uneven (isn’t all art uneven. Isn’t all art uneat. Neatness is such a waste of life like making notes.-..}

    Gintama, thankfully, never treats its female characters secondary to the male ones, a trait that is often seen in manga and anime, and rather they are as, if not better, written. Take Shinpachi’s sister, Tae, who could’ve been written stereotypically, like in most anime, as a protective and harsh sister and nothing more. Instead, she is a complex person who is going on the adventure of life like everyone else who values her family and herself. She makes friends in the series but she never changes who she is. You can see the simplicity here, but Hideaki subverting stereotypes and giving her an individuality and a respect that all characters have makes his writing stand out. It feels like Hideaki writes people he knows which is incredible since most authors would then struggle into bias but it feels like he never does. Rather, he writes with a respect comparable to living a day in their shoes. As all artists are, it is based on influence and experience. Hideaki seemingly navigates this wave of influence one has with their life just brilliantly since he feels like just another person himself and just somebody who picked up a pen and wrote. And that is the charm of Gintama. The love for the average individual.

    One thing I personally adore about Gintama is how neat the designs are. No character looks the same, especially in regards to their hair, and feels inspired by Japan’s history not just when the series takes place, a futuristic world stuck in the Edo period, but rather the 20th and 21st century history also feel on full display. Thanks to so many cultural references being related to Japan, a multitude of references, as nearly every character, even sometimes by name, is a clever reference to someone in history, I probably can’t fully even describe them all. Though, usually, Gintama’s humor translates quite literally abroad since it never loses its attitude or charm, even if some jokes might be off your radar. 

    Aside from so many characters from their names just being references, the world of Gintama is stacked in Japanese history which means the most casual things are. It is a world where things seen as normal you will soon see their history which correlates quite much with our real world itself and the many things inflicted and things Japan has caused. Like our world, everything feels connected to one another not just in the moment but through the line of time. Besides reflecting Japan’s history and enough use of Japan to help one get aware of its customs, it also shows an evolution of those customs through its nearly twenty year run and also the anime and manga industry evolution.

    A turn of the traditional shonen to one guy’s walk of life is Gintama. I would call it a story made for a reader of books rather than the hero of the narrative.

    B. L O N G E R   P A R A G R A P H S (Why? Why can’t writing just be writing. Cause it is writing not writing. Well, for me, it’s en écrivant.)

    Gintama primarily examines what it is to get on with life. You have your triumphs but you also have your mundane times and just living how you like is enough. You don’t have to follow ambition, rather live with one. Existence.

    One of my favorite moments kind of exemplifies the series. There is this moment where Gintoki, afraid of the Shinsengumi he doesn’t know taking the anime’s spotlight, calls out the show for not making him the main character before demanding the opening be played. The next episode one of the Shinsengumi gets mad at Gintoki for forgetting him after three or four episodes. This fun, carefreeness just rocks.

    Gintama is a series that doesn’t hold back its hits at the manga industry and basically anything else you can think of. Gintama is wide with its jokes and never really places itself anywhere. Well, except Japan, where it takes place. Though it never, in my opinion, really hits poignant commentary, even in its big moments, as much as examinations that work best as such in Gintama’s ever-evolving samurai-lost world.

    Gintama really feels made by an author who evolves; starting the series in his twenties and continuing it to like his 40s, Hideaki really put his experiences and blood and sweat into it, and it shows. It really feels like a show made on a lifetime of experience and specific friendships Hideaki had that he pours, in his Gintama manner, into the screen this time around with a level of charisma, edge, and the right amount of middle ground to really catch you off guard. It is a work that feels made by someone who goes on random experiences in their own town daily and writes their life on screen. In a way, feeling somewhat semi-autobiographical despite that obvious impossibility based on even one episode of Gintama will make it crystal clear. But nonetheless, it feels that way. In nearly every episode, we are introduced to new, equally unique, and standout characters that feel so distinct and individual and always continue to reveal shades of them we didn’t see before.

    3. Why so long? (Why so short? Length is limitless)

    Gintama is a sum of not just Gen X in the manga industry but an almost growing pessimism burned with optimism, as you can see in many Gen X authors and relative to the era and time period it was made in (2000s). 

    Gintama is one of those anime that goes hard for the plot. Think of the Death Note episode Gintama has and that animation and it overdoing every minor thing like Death Note if you need a reminder and remind yourself this came out like at the same time, long before jokes about it were common and as cool as now.

    4. Grammar (It is fine. But- It is fine.)

    No. Nononono. This is wrong. Repeat. Repeat. Rewind. Breathe again. Again. Again. And. Again.

    I would call Gintama’s characters losers who entered their 30s and now have taken down the bad guys and now just sit around being lame, cringeworthy adults without Twitter. A true horror, I know. But that’s the fun part. Just seeing our leads doing boring things that don’t have much value but that’s the point.

    Our hero here is not motivated but rather lazy, stubborn, and carefree. In a way, he is the most human hero ever. He realizes life is so short. Why care for what other flawed humans think is true, and rather just vibe and get enough money for some cereal? True vibe. And instead of a stereotypically written female character in shonen, we get Kagura, a well written three dimensional character who stands leagues above most anime characters. In most shonen side characters, we are left with the annoying friend who preaches how crazy everyone is, and here we get an even more annoying version of that who is as bland and unbelievably boring as I am saying it, Shinpachi. Standards were only predefined when he was created, so he can be excused from the equation of our great well written leads.

    To be much, actually far much more specific, with these characters, Gintoki is what I would call a silent warrior with a heart of gold underneath that is mocked for all its influence over and over again, ruthlessly and unabashedly. His design, hair wise, has a white top that blends as it goes down to more light blue. I may be, definitely am, overthinking this but I find it quite préfigurant. This is a tool not forgotten by Hideaki even in regards to such minimalist and most would say unsuitable aspects such as the choices Hideaki delivers to his world, yet by either will or humours pure spite, or pen, he releases a creative flush. Sheer versatility.

    Kaguya is probably the best written character, in my opinion, since she is the most complex main character out of our core cast. Her parents are representative of how love can conquer all limitations through their connection despite all the risks they have in loving each other thanks to the fate of death being present. After two kids of theirs are born, their relationship feeds into the stereotype that separated them from him going to work while she lays ill raising the kids herself. Though, it all likely hurts him and causes his absence and harshness to the kids due to the pain he is inflicted with seeing her in such a state. Regardless, we see the generational (a key element of Gintama) effect it has on the kids and two versions that play out. One, an older child, one with more memories of his parents and the world, acts out by the abandonment hitting more by becoming less kind and harsh on his sister and more solo. He is acting out not just for attention but for the mere fact of all the feelings he has regarding the situation. He is a tempest to his own narrative in his life that becomes clear. Kaguya, on the other hand, falls into freedom, after the abandonment and she finds light instead of darkness, likely due to her mindset and circumstance then and likely due to the people she met. It is a two sides of the coin, fate brings and fate destroys. There is a lot more to this relationship, but like all things Gintama, it would be pointless to discuss to a longer degree since that would be simply explanatory. Simply, watch the show yourself. It’s worth it.

    Next

    The Shinsengumi, our main comedic-driven antagonists, are all full of life and just so trashy at their job, which seems to be helping people and stopping war criminals like Gintoki, which they are somehow equally bad at doing. Really, nobody in this series is good at anything, as they must suck massively and in order be relatable to its audience. It’s kind of in the agreement. Also, not sure if I mentioned it, but they are incredibly lazy people. It’s one of those “if you ever feel like a failure, look there” kind of emotion I get from it. While I see failure as impossible in regards to value in reference to existence, it still sucks massively to see people doing so much and yourself working somewhere for less than three dollars an hour. That is what Gintama is really about. Failure is the biggest teacher since it is the biggest rewarder. Nothing. It makes you realize that getting on with life is the biggest reward you can receive, and you should never take it for granted. 

    One of the scariest things to be turned into a different medium is one with a comedy genre attached to it. Simply since most jokes work thanks to the medium they are presented in. In Gintama’s case, one could say it had its luck, as the manga, in my honest opinion, just was terrible. Yeah, I said it. I didn’t laugh once, even when Shinpachi was off the page, and I know that is a low blow, but still it remains. A stick hitting my skull might get a better crackle, literally, out of me than over ninety-nine percent of whatever the manga thought was tolerable to my four or five senses (I’m not a scientist!). One of the reasons for this is that Gintama just feels made for the anime because its jokes feel based on animation. Moving pictures. Another is that the dialogue in the manga was excessive to the utmost degree. Like I’m here for a manga, not a light novel. Not clickbait from my Gintama. Another reason is due to the fact that voice acting really heightens Gintama. Without the specific voice actors chosen for the Japanese version, pretty much most of the jokes would fall flat. Simply, they go in on their performance.

    I’m getting somewhere. Someone, I’m sure, once said to write dangerously so… Should I try?

    Filler is a cruel sword cast down upon so many possible great anime series. Thankfully, Gintama has the cure. Simply put, when all your episodes can be reduced to filler, none of them are. If you can’t beat it, join it; in this case, it seems to be the lesson learned from Gintama, though you would be wrong, dear reader. Or right, Gintama knows no bounds in respecting its audience or really itself. It would actually be: if you can’t beat it since you are it, well, just deal with it I guess is what Gintama says. Gintama is a sitcom, and most sitcoms are, let’s be honest, enjoyable fluff that you can usually put on while doing actual significant things like playing Uno and not miss a thing. Gintama’s whole premise is: three losers just doing some nothing nowhere job they made up in some crappy, oddly sci-fi yet old-fashioned town full of also incredible weirdos. And, with that premise, it is clear Gintama knows parents cleaning their kids rooms will leave it on as boring garbage that might make them smile once out of the fact that it seems like you are supposed to. Or it’s: I’m not laughing at you; I’m laughing with others laughing at you. Gintama has that energy which is what I;m getting at. I’m getting somewhere you see. It has this self loathing nature to it that kind of never becomes clear and feels hidden behind the jokes and heartwarming moments but becomes apparent as it goes on. Though, as the author aged, it could’ve been a new type of humor added in. Or préfiguré.

    A funny aspect that always keeps a reader like myself on my toes here is the biting rudeness our characters frequently and quite excessively display to one another. For instance, when Kagura is being eaten by a monster, our lead who has fought many battles and was basically at the top of fights, Gintoki and his friend Shinpachi leave their best friend to die and get eaten alive and then, out of anger, Kagura tries to take them with her to die. You could call this out of character and excessively too much, but I would call it dear viewer, Gintama. It doesn’t need to make complete sense. I mean does anything.

    This is dangerous, right? (Dangerous is subjective. Consistency is just another form. I see that I don’t see Demythologization.)

    I’ve spent so long pondering on all these things and did not, did i erus m’i, prends l’eau.

    Let’s see. Well, you’re starting Gintama! You will be hit with two solid filler episodes that just get you on the action and vibe of the universe, which is quite funny as right after these couple of episodes they explain the universe as if the previous two episodes were some lost, unaired pilots that turned out to be some scam. For the general start, Gintama leads itself on more episodic episodes with narrative episodes being sliced very smaller until later in between, though, thanks to this, the first two episodes you could say were the perfect place to be. Though much later, the main plot line will be more of a focal point, which will be continued in a fantastic final film to end the series. 

    There are also two film spin offs which are fine and work to the film medium (well, the second one at least) to give them stronger purpose, per se, but regardless, like most of Gintama, are just fun adventures.

    Gintama I would call the cult classic of the anime industry in that it’s not forgotten just there and respected for that and how long it has stood its ground. It’s not easy for such a thematic and audacious show like Gintama to bare and last itself in the space of more business minded individuals yet it has persisted, despite looking as though it has been canceled and been destroyed quite fashionably to an early grave, yet it ended on its own terms.

    They should plant trees on the road. On and on and on all over again.

    Gintama is a story that leaps around a lot. I would call it a story that also feels like it leaps often. Plotlines will dramatically happen, and then two episodes later will be used as cheap, sloppy comedic relief. Instead of underpinning it, it adds to it. It’s like the author is just screwing around and joking in ways you never see authors doing. In the anime, we have a literal episode where our leads can’t even be animated and are instead cardboard cutouts and wax figurines who move themselves around, and it jokes about animators and basically the respect this show has budget wise. And this was like the 2000s. Tell me about any other show that would dare to do that. Both sopranos-level drama and office-level humor that will still make fun of itself and, oddly, degrade itself whenever possible. Just the audacity. The audacity!

    Gintama is one of those series where canon is a loose term the series will continually break. If you rewatch Gintama, it becomes clear nothing is planned out and rather it feels like someone is probably screwing around for the thrill of it. Kaguyra’s dad, for instance, talks ill of his dead wife which later seems so out of character but seems more clear with regard that Hisdeaki likely didn’t create 500 extra plot episodes in his head to assume and know then. It rather, only later, just came to be.

    For instance, our cold and unforgiving seemingly officer might randomly cry over some manga not because it’s some secret thing about him but rather because it’s funny and don’t think about it too deeply as that is the funny part. I have a fear that, looking deeper, if Lewis Carroll were to arrive in Gintama he would, surprisingly, fit well in.

    “Really, now you ask me,” said Alice, very much confused, “I don’t think—”

    “Then you shouldn’t talk,” said the Hatter.

    Cycles. Bad advice until someone takes the words right out of your mouth. Au revoir. 

    I think our leads would have a few words to that Hatter. Anyway…

    Though, if you are successful in the slightest at anything in your life, then I recommend Gintama. They say don’t give up one’s hopes when they’re down. When yours is up, though, how low can it get? One might wonder. Gintama might make you incredibly lazy, and that’s amazing. It will make one see that just living life is more important than a date or going places. I mean, who would want that? Just no. If you are tired and feel as though your standards are nothing, since standards are just words, watch Gintama. It is sure to make you get a bar just to lower it. Yet that is amazing. 

    Gintama is unabashed parody magic. When it hits a narrative arc, it hits it in spades, with them spaced out nicely for impact and emotion. We see our characters as ones you might see in a sitcom, with a sitcom being something you put on while you’re cleaning or mowing the lawn. But then, Gintama switches to make you sit up in your seat, demand a rewatch, and cry your eyes out over the weirdest and most incredibly vile of characters.

    One breaking point, for many, is the length. Yes, it will probably take most of your lifetime to finish the show, and yes, you might resent it for years to come, and yes, you might hold a grudge against my recommendation for you to waste your existence if we call it that, but that’s awesome. Life’s so short; why not just waste it? Gintama has no boundaries or standards and is gross out to the fullest and emotional to the, well, emotionalistist. If you want a ticket for everything, you have found the leader for that. 

    VERDICT

    Gintama is like a peculiar parody film from the 2000s mixed with compelling overly dramatic and melodramatic writing of that of The Sopranos mixed with the most epic of novellas at points mixed with music of all eras mixed with an author who probably, you know, invented the term vibe. That sounds like a lot, but really, it’s not. It’s not precise enough. Gintama is definitely, and I do mean definitely, not for everyone, but give it time, and if it warms up on you and you remember it, it will be your forever show. 

    5/5Gintama: Review

    Gintama: Review. By Christopher Patterson.

    The Show For Everyone Who Is ,To Put It Bluntly, Just In A Mood To Vibe

    I must! I must tell you, dear reader, I have been incredibly grief-stricken. 1. EauGrief stricken! You see – do it fast – here is a show in which I have procrastinated rewatching the third time… And yet one series that I loved uncontrollably since I lost my password to the terrible subscription I had to rewatch for it. If you feel like a failure, do I have the show for you. Our leads are terrible and trashy at essentially everything. They can’t do anything right; they casually ruin everything, but not in an emotional way, just in the “I guess I kinda do. Anyway” kind of way, and our villains are just as incompetent, if not worse. Also, the show makes it very clear it is on a low budget, and multiple episodes, you could argue, were drawn by a sad assistant unhappy with their life. Doesn’t it sound awesome? And yet, it’s beautiful. The show basks in its undying putridness and is one of the best examples of a show that needs no dignity to be both biting and undeniably humorously raunchy all at once.

    Why? Because I said so. Yes.

    Gniog  i ma?

    EST-CE QUE JE VAIS?

    Gniog  i ma?

    Why does God send headlights before it rains?

    Gintama is one of those mundane series with which I have a secular bond with. If it is raining, the thrift shop isn’t open, bills have given you a due two week break due to their own due bills, and you’re very bored and more bored and then tired, then, again… do I have the show for you! And “Mr. Raindrop,” I mean, if you are in that bad of a situation, firstly,- Fate and if so then what is presentThen listen to “Mr. Raindrop.”

    While the series has its moving and story-focused moments, which I will discuss especially later, for the most part, it is just our lazy, pathetic crew doing useless stuff and just vibing. If that seems boring, then you will definitely hate this series, and I am primed to root for you and your casual, life-changing affairs. No.

    How could I? What was I thinking? How do I think I think I said to myself when I had the small flat screen television set up primed on a rusty chair and a slumber from starting a new job pains. How, just possibly how, could I spend over, possibly and probably likely, hundred or so hours of my so called life watching something. It just wasn’t natural, my subconscious said. I can’t. I can’t. And then I just hit play and it all just happened. It was one of those days when you are binging something and it ends and out of sadness you search and try to binge as many shows as possible to mend the pain uncontrollably inflicted. 

    Besides I was so young when I first watched Gintama I can only imagine

    I grabbed my coat and walked on the dotted line on the road with my head held high. 

    銀 (Silver)

    The cover is what caught my tired eye. Artwork that was circumstantial but to an interior that could’ve never meant W H A M  B A M every episode but meandering. Just perfect. It was all too prototypical till my sentences got all tired dna i was on rehto noitpo.

    銀魂 

    I told myself s-i-l-v-e-r is a 5 letter word derived from, maybe possibly likely, Latin likely to coin that something. S-s-s-I-i-l-V-v-v-E-e-e-R-r-r is a 5 letter word derived from Latin to coin something. I told myself s-o-u-l is a 4 letter word derived from, maybe possibly likely, Latin likely to coin that something. S-s-s-O-o-O-U-u-U-L-l-l is a 4 letter word derived from Latin to coin something. Something. And I knew none of those rambling over a title mattered much but it still consumed me. Just the name. I had no interest in asking someone what it meant since learning Japanese was kind of an interest of mine after my failure in learning Chinese which meant a waste of perfectly good time learning of thousands of peoples way of speaking and speaking to the behavior of the multitude of creators. And who knew that something that took nine hours of my soul was dedicated to a title that was a reference or so called pun relating to t-e-s-t-i-c-l-e-s.

    The rain pronounced on my shoulders gently and I saw a beautiful pile of rain touch my mouth. I could not walk my way home but rather just take in the surroundings. All so moist. That moment could last forever and I would never have noticed. My thoughts were on a spiral cnod alec en a’m sap édia.

    Gintoki is our chill narrator, who does essentially nothing but vibe and helps people if the price is right. Shinpachi is our blank piece of wood—no good, annoying whenever he appears, a fanboy who half the time wastes our precious time on this world by confusingly telling us how crazy everything is. Imagine the kid who no one notices, tells the teacher if she forgot they had homework, obsesses over a popular female artist, berates you if you do the slightest thing wacky, and just ruins the vibe. Kagura, is a prideful, vibey character that is a mixture of crazy and chill. Think of Killua from Hunter x Hunter just more lazy, incompetent, rude, and useless. 

    If it isn’t clear yet, all our heroes are utterly incompetent and trash at their jobs. And it’s kind of in the show’s description, mind you. If I had to explain in the good old Lewis Carroll terms:

    I want to be France or whatever it is to be predefined.

    “Avez-vous deviné l’énigme?” dit le Chapelier, se tournant de nouveau vers Alice.

    “Non, j’y renonce,” répondit Alice; “quelle est la réponse?”

    “Je n’en ai pas la moindre idée,” dit le Chapelier.

    Our heroes, everyone. Though, I kind of love it. No, scratch that; 1. Need to stop meandering I heart it.

    A thing I find so funny is how Gintama vomits on traditional shonen archetypes. It grabs the shiny Shonen Jump family of heroes and vomits on top of that legacy, uses it as toilet paper and plastic surgery advertisements, and then berates it. 

    When you see our hero literally start with running away from an epic battle and then talk about not missing some show on TV, you know you are in either one hell of a drug or one hell of a series. The sarcasm can’t and won’t escape you. 

    You also see Gintama’s art style progress, which I love, starting with this iconic retro 2000s look before becoming even more detailed and static thanks to more detailed designs.

    After a while I got stuck with the bores and took a daydream as I walked drifting now into the forest to dream bigger. Write better, I guess. J’avais même oublié ou j’avais trop peur pour lui dire que j’avais oublié de lui faire de l’aqua. Only ton knows this. That I suppose.

    The openings of Gintama are probably my favorite of any anime. “Pray,” the first opening, is a vibrant and exiting opener and beginner to the series that really sets the more breathtaking mundane fun the series has to offer. It just excites you, but not in the “I can do anything” way but rather in the “Look at the clouds for six hours” kind of way. 

    The ending to this opening, “Fuusen Gamu,” is equally good, and it is a song to listen to whenever you are going to a boring office job. The second opening, “Tooi Nioi,”  is more quiet and good listening when you are going to work in the blue hour. The ending to it is so iconic; as mentioned before, “Mr. Raindrop” is one of my favorite songs ever. It reminds me of when it rained at school and all I did was stare at the window and dream of finding a way to run out of the room and drink the rain until it was full. 

    The songs after these are mostly decent but it is until a bit later the quality of the openings and endings greatly improves. The song “Know, Know, Know” is a startling hit in the gut that prepares one for the trials ahead for our leads. The ending “Acchi Muite” is one of the most pageant songs the series has to offer with it being a goodbye almost in song form, comparable to someone moving away from those they love. It just makes you emotional to remember all the good times. “Beautiful One Day” is one of the funner songs in the series, with a poppin’ mundane as we see our leads, in the opening, just going on mundane adventures in life. “Tongeoku Alien” is another of my favorites, with its exciting level of wackiness  with our leads being literally chased down while hinting at more to come. A way to end off the discussion of the openings is to discuss the last great song in the series, and kind of the final one for now, “Wadachi.” “Wadachi” has this beautiful goodbye quality to it like “Acchi Muite” but more solemn and calm as the story has ended.

    I wrote a bit on some paragraphs and even made a structure. Just…

    Gintama is one of those series it is easy to get lost in. I remember starting this review with a discussion of the casual Gintama episode reflected through the solid opening episode but lost myself in watching twenty more episodes before I could get past writing one dull and cranky sentence.

    Though it’s oh so lengthy run that so many true established works may have succumbed to its effects, never did Gintama. Never. Not one episode, if I had to use precise prose, fallen to the disarray of repetitive existence. May each episode, Hieaki inscribed, be true to you and it shall be true to itself. That trust Hideaki had in the viewer to flow with his lack thereof is his opus.

    One of my favorite things about Gintama is how, yes, it’s not the same as other shonens but in less of the blunt ways it delivers this and more of the personal bare ways it completes this. Even when it is at its most traditional shonen, it never caves in to letting our characters have a cheerful end. One episode we have an old man who’s dying and wants to see a lady in his past whom he met briefly and it turns out to be a character we know well already in the universe but when she meets him they say nothing rather he envisions her as before and passes. She may not even notice him nor care but he got his happy ending. Gintama purposefully leaves it feeling raw while giving you that confused yet understanding smile which is so relatable to the common mundane existence we all live in which Gintama possesses like no other. Or when Shinpachi expresses to Gintoi why he idolizes that singer and how he heard her when no one else did and it made his day and while she may and seems not to remember him, he will never forget what he got from it and will cherish it always and regardless. This humanness and revealingness the series has to illustrating how we get by day by day is its voice.

    I would call Gintama’s characters a reflection of the shades of the creator rather than a revealing portrait of society. Gintama is a world of so many diverse and complex characters I would be here for pages after pages so to simplify, Gintama’s world is vast but is held together under a weave of “not everything is as it seems.” This goes for pretty much every character, even if not shown, where everyone in Gintama, as in works like Proust, reveal a different side to them that was always there but just needed the right moment to shine a spotlight on it. The seemingly unintentional aspect to Hideaki’s writing is how raw and vulnerable he feels in it. Gintama feels like an unintentional portrait of someone navigating the world through their writing. An unintentional coming of age story. As, like life, the story never ends after the big battle and the simple ones may be just as great.

    1. Better Structure – Paragraphs too loose and uneven (isn’t all art uneven. Isn’t all art uneat. Neatness is such a waste of life like making notes.-..}

    Gintama, thankfully, never treats its female characters secondary to the male ones, a trait that is often seen in manga and anime, and rather they are as, if not better, written. Take Shinpachi’s sister, Tae, who could’ve been written stereotypically, like in most anime, as a protective and harsh sister and nothing more. Instead, she is a complex person who is going on the adventure of life like everyone else who values her family and herself. She makes friends in the series but she never changes who she is. You can see the simplicity here, but Hideaki subverting stereotypes and giving her an individuality and a respect that all characters have makes his writing stand out. It feels like Hideaki writes people he knows which is incredible since most authors would then struggle into bias but it feels like he never does. Rather, he writes with a respect comparable to living a day in their shoes. As all artists are, it is based on influence and experience. Hideaki seemingly navigates this wave of influence one has with their life just brilliantly since he feels like just another person himself and just somebody who picked up a pen and wrote. And that is the charm of Gintama. The love for the average individual.

    One thing I personally adore about Gintama is how neat the designs are. No character looks the same, especially in regards to their hair, and feels inspired by Japan’s history not just when the series takes place, a futuristic world stuck in the Edo period, but rather the 20th and 21st century history also feel on full display. Thanks to so many cultural references being related to Japan, a multitude of references, as nearly every character, even sometimes by name, is a clever reference to someone in history, I probably can’t fully even describe them all. Though, usually, Gintama’s humor translates quite literally abroad since it never loses its attitude or charm, even if some jokes might be off your radar. 

    Aside from so many characters from their names just being references, the world of Gintama is stacked in Japanese history which means the most casual things are. It is a world where things seen as normal you will soon see their history which correlates quite much with our real world itself and the many things inflicted and things Japan has caused. Like our world, everything feels connected to one another not just in the moment but through the line of time. Besides reflecting Japan’s history and enough use of Japan to help one get aware of its customs, it also shows an evolution of those customs through its nearly twenty year run and also the anime and manga industry evolution.

    A turn of the traditional shonen to one guy’s walk of life is Gintama. I would call it a story made for a reader of books rather than the hero of the narrative.

    B. L O N G E R   P A R A G R A P H S (Why? Why can’t writing just be writing. Cause it is writing not writing. Well, for me, it’s en écrivant.)

    Gintama primarily examines what it is to get on with life. You have your triumphs but you also have your mundane times and just living how you like is enough. You don’t have to follow ambition, rather live with one. Existence.

    One of my favorite moments kind of exemplifies the series. There is this moment where Gintoki, afraid of the Shinsengumi he doesn’t know taking the anime’s spotlight, calls out the show for not making him the main character before demanding the opening be played. The next episode one of the Shinsengumi gets mad at Gintoki for forgetting him after three or four episodes. This fun, carefreeness just rocks.

    Gintama is a series that doesn’t hold back its hits at the manga industry and basically anything else you can think of. Gintama is wide with its jokes and never really places itself anywhere. Well, except Japan, where it takes place. Though it never, in my opinion, really hits poignant commentary, even in its big moments, as much as examinations that work best as such in Gintama’s ever-evolving samurai-lost world.

    Gintama really feels made by an author who evolves; starting the series in his twenties and continuing it to like his 40s, Hideaki really put his experiences and blood and sweat into it, and it shows. It really feels like a show made on a lifetime of experience and specific friendships Hideaki had that he pours, in his Gintama manner, into the screen this time around with a level of charisma, edge, and the right amount of middle ground to really catch you off guard. It is a work that feels made by someone who goes on random experiences in their own town daily and writes their life on screen. In a way, feeling somewhat semi-autobiographical despite that obvious impossibility based on even one episode of Gintama will make it crystal clear. But nonetheless, it feels that way. In nearly every episode, we are introduced to new, equally unique, and standout characters that feel so distinct and individual and always continue to reveal shades of them we didn’t see before.

    3. Why so long? (Why so short? Length is limitless)

    Gintama is a sum of not just Gen X in the manga industry but an almost growing pessimism burned with optimism, as you can see in many Gen X authors and relative to the era and time period it was made in (2000s). 

    Gintama is one of those anime that goes hard for the plot. Think of the Death Note episode Gintama has and that animation and it overdoing every minor thing like Death Note if you need a reminder and remind yourself this came out like at the same time, long before jokes about it were common and as cool as now.

    4. Grammar (It is fine. But- It is fine.)

    No. Nononono. This is wrong. Repeat. Repeat. Rewind. Breathe again. Again. Again. And. Again.

    I would call Gintama’s characters losers who entered their 30s and now have taken down the bad guys and now just sit around being lame, cringeworthy adults without Twitter. A true horror, I know. But that’s the fun part. Just seeing our leads doing boring things that don’t have much value but that’s the point.

    Our hero here is not motivated but rather lazy, stubborn, and carefree. In a way, he is the most human hero ever. He realizes life is so short. Why care for what other flawed humans think is true, and rather just vibe and get enough money for some cereal? True vibe. And instead of a stereotypically written female character in shonen, we get Kagura, a well written three dimensional character who stands leagues above most anime characters. In most shonen side characters, we are left with the annoying friend who preaches how crazy everyone is, and here we get an even more annoying version of that who is as bland and unbelievably boring as I am saying it, Shinpachi. Standards were only predefined when he was created, so he can be excused from the equation of our great well written leads.

    To be much, actually far much more specific, with these characters, Gintoki is what I would call a silent warrior with a heart of gold underneath that is mocked for all its influence over and over again, ruthlessly and unabashedly. His design, hair wise, has a white top that blends as it goes down to more light blue. I may be, definitely am, overthinking this but I find it quite préfigurant. This is a tool not forgotten by Hideaki even in regards to such minimalist and most would say unsuitable aspects such as the choices Hideaki delivers to his world, yet by either will or humours pure spite, or pen, he releases a creative flush. Sheer versatility.

    Kaguya is probably the best written character, in my opinion, since she is the most complex main character out of our core cast. Her parents are representative of how love can conquer all limitations through their connection despite all the risks they have in loving each other thanks to the fate of death being present. After two kids of theirs are born, their relationship feeds into the stereotype that separated them from him going to work while she lays ill raising the kids herself. Though, it all likely hurts him and causes his absence and harshness to the kids due to the pain he is inflicted with seeing her in such a state. Regardless, we see the generational (a key element of Gintama) effect it has on the kids and two versions that play out. One, an older child, one with more memories of his parents and the world, acts out by the abandonment hitting more by becoming less kind and harsh on his sister and more solo. He is acting out not just for attention but for the mere fact of all the feelings he has regarding the situation. He is a tempest to his own narrative in his life that becomes clear. Kaguya, on the other hand, falls into freedom, after the abandonment and she finds light instead of darkness, likely due to her mindset and circumstance then and likely due to the people she met. It is a two sides of the coin, fate brings and fate destroys. There is a lot more to this relationship, but like all things Gintama, it would be pointless to discuss to a longer degree since that would be simply explanatory. Simply, watch the show yourself. It’s worth it.

    Next

    The Shinsengumi, our main comedic-driven antagonists, are all full of life and just so trashy at their job, which seems to be helping people and stopping war criminals like Gintoki, which they are somehow equally bad at doing. Really, nobody in this series is good at anything, as they must suck massively and in order be relatable to its audience. It’s kind of in the agreement. Also, not sure if I mentioned it, but they are incredibly lazy people. It’s one of those “if you ever feel like a failure, look there” kind of emotion I get from it. While I see failure as impossible in regards to value in reference to existence, it still sucks massively to see people doing so much and yourself working somewhere for less than three dollars an hour. That is what Gintama is really about. Failure is the biggest teacher since it is the biggest rewarder. Nothing. It makes you realize that getting on with life is the biggest reward you can receive, and you should never take it for granted. 

    One of the scariest things to be turned into a different medium is one with a comedy genre attached to it. Simply since most jokes work thanks to the medium they are presented in. In Gintama’s case, one could say it had its luck, as the manga, in my honest opinion, just was terrible. Yeah, I said it. I didn’t laugh once, even when Shinpachi was off the page, and I know that is a low blow, but still it remains. A stick hitting my skull might get a better crackle, literally, out of me than over ninety-nine percent of whatever the manga thought was tolerable to my four or five senses (I’m not a scientist!). One of the reasons for this is that Gintama just feels made for the anime because its jokes feel based on animation. Moving pictures. Another is that the dialogue in the manga was excessive to the utmost degree. Like I’m here for a manga, not a light novel. Not clickbait from my Gintama. Another reason is due to the fact that voice acting really heightens Gintama. Without the specific voice actors chosen for the Japanese version, pretty much most of the jokes would fall flat. Simply, they go in on their performance.

    I’m getting somewhere. Someone, I’m sure, once said to write dangerously so… Should I try?

    Filler is a cruel sword cast down upon so many possible great anime series. Thankfully, Gintama has the cure. Simply put, when all your episodes can be reduced to filler, none of them are. If you can’t beat it, join it; in this case, it seems to be the lesson learned from Gintama, though you would be wrong, dear reader. Or right, Gintama knows no bounds in respecting its audience or really itself. It would actually be: if you can’t beat it since you are it, well, just deal with it I guess is what Gintama says. Gintama is a sitcom, and most sitcoms are, let’s be honest, enjoyable fluff that you can usually put on while doing actual significant things like playing Uno and not miss a thing. Gintama’s whole premise is: three losers just doing some nothing nowhere job they made up in some crappy, oddly sci-fi yet old-fashioned town full of also incredible weirdos. And, with that premise, it is clear Gintama knows parents cleaning their kids rooms will leave it on as boring garbage that might make them smile once out of the fact that it seems like you are supposed to. Or it’s: I’m not laughing at you; I’m laughing with others laughing at you. Gintama has that energy which is what I;m getting at. I’m getting somewhere you see. It has this self loathing nature to it that kind of never becomes clear and feels hidden behind the jokes and heartwarming moments but becomes apparent as it goes on. Though, as the author aged, it could’ve been a new type of humor added in. Or préfiguré.

    A funny aspect that always keeps a reader like myself on my toes here is the biting rudeness our characters frequently and quite excessively display to one another. For instance, when Kagura is being eaten by a monster, our lead who has fought many battles and was basically at the top of fights, Gintoki and his friend Shinpachi leave their best friend to die and get eaten alive and then, out of anger, Kagura tries to take them with her to die. You could call this out of character and excessively too much, but I would call it dear viewer, Gintama. It doesn’t need to make complete sense. I mean does anything.

    This is dangerous, right? (Dangerous is subjective. Consistency is just another form. I see that I don’t see Demythologization.)

    I’ve spent so long pondering on all these things and did not, did i erus m’i, prends l’eau.

    Let’s see. Well, you’re starting Gintama! You will be hit with two solid filler episodes that just get you on the action and vibe of the universe, which is quite funny as right after these couple of episodes they explain the universe as if the previous two episodes were some lost, unaired pilots that turned out to be some scam. For the general start, Gintama leads itself on more episodic episodes with narrative episodes being sliced very smaller until later in between, though, thanks to this, the first two episodes you could say were the perfect place to be. Though much later, the main plot line will be more of a focal point, which will be continued in a fantastic final film to end the series. 

    There are also two film spin offs which are fine and work to the film medium (well, the second one at least) to give them stronger purpose, per se, but regardless, like most of Gintama, are just fun adventures.

    Gintama I would call the cult classic of the anime industry in that it’s not forgotten just there and respected for that and how long it has stood its ground. It’s not easy for such a thematic and audacious show like Gintama to bare and last itself in the space of more business minded individuals yet it has persisted, despite looking as though it has been canceled and been destroyed quite fashionably to an early grave, yet it ended on its own terms.

    They should plant trees on the road. On and on and on all over again.

    Gintama is a story that leaps around a lot. I would call it a story that also feels like it leaps often. Plotlines will dramatically happen, and then two episodes later will be used as cheap, sloppy comedic relief. Instead of underpinning it, it adds to it. It’s like the author is just screwing around and joking in ways you never see authors doing. In the anime, we have a literal episode where our leads can’t even be animated and are instead cardboard cutouts and wax figurines who move themselves around, and it jokes about animators and basically the respect this show has budget wise. And this was like the 2000s. Tell me about any other show that would dare to do that. Both sopranos-level drama and office-level humor that will still make fun of itself and, oddly, degrade itself whenever possible. Just the audacity. The audacity!

    Gintama is one of those series where canon is a loose term the series will continually break. If you rewatch Gintama, it becomes clear nothing is planned out and rather it feels like someone is probably screwing around for the thrill of it. Kaguyra’s dad, for instance, talks ill of his dead wife which later seems so out of character but seems more clear with regard that Hisdeaki likely didn’t create 500 extra plot episodes in his head to assume and know then. It rather, only later, just came to be.

    For instance, our cold and unforgiving seemingly officer might randomly cry over some manga not because it’s some secret thing about him but rather because it’s funny and don’t think about it too deeply as that is the funny part. I have a fear that, looking deeper, if Lewis Carroll were to arrive in Gintama he would, surprisingly, fit well in.

    “Really, now you ask me,” said Alice, very much confused, “I don’t think—”

    “Then you shouldn’t talk,” said the Hatter.

    Cycles. Bad advice until someone takes the words right out of your mouth. Au revoir. 

    I think our leads would have a few words to that Hatter. Anyway…

    Though, if you are successful in the slightest at anything in your life, then I recommend Gintama. They say don’t give up one’s hopes when they’re down. When yours is up, though, how low can it get? One might wonder. Gintama might make you incredibly lazy, and that’s amazing. It will make one see that just living life is more important than a date or going places. I mean, who would want that? Just no. If you are tired and feel as though your standards are nothing, since standards are just words, watch Gintama. It is sure to make you get a bar just to lower it. Yet that is amazing. 

    Gintama is unabashed parody magic. When it hits a narrative arc, it hits it in spades, with them spaced out nicely for impact and emotion. We see our characters as ones you might see in a sitcom, with a sitcom being something you put on while you’re cleaning or mowing the lawn. But then, Gintama switches to make you sit up in your seat, demand a rewatch, and cry your eyes out over the weirdest and most incredibly vile of characters.

    One breaking point, for many, is the length. Yes, it will probably take most of your lifetime to finish the show, and yes, you might resent it for years to come, and yes, you might hold a grudge against my recommendation for you to waste your existence if we call it that, but that’s awesome. Life’s so short; why not just waste it? Gintama has no boundaries or standards and is gross out to the fullest and emotional to the, well, emotionalistist. If you want a ticket for everything, you have found the leader for that. 

    VERDICT

    Gintama is like a peculiar parody film from the 2000s mixed with compelling overly dramatic and melodramatic writing of that of The Sopranos mixed with the most epic of novellas at points mixed with music of all eras mixed with an author who probably, you know, invented the term vibe. That sounds like a lot, but really, it’s not. It’s not precise enough. Gintama is definitely, and I do mean definitely, not for everyone, but give it time, and if it warms up on you and you remember it, it will be your forever show. 

    5/5

  • Longlegs: The BRWC Review

    Longlegs: The BRWC Review

    Longlegs: The BRWC Review. By Nick Boyd.

    “Longlegs” is a very suspenseful psychological horror movie starring Nicolas Cage as the titular character and Maika Monroe as Agent Lee Harker.  Directed by Oz Perkins, son of Anthony Perkins of “Psycho” fame, the film looks at murders that have taken place over a 20-year span going back to the 1970s, each involving a family.  It seems as though Longlegs could be connected to each murder, as the crime scene of each is very similar and has a pattern.  However, there seems to be no trace of Longlegs having ever stepped inside the houses.  This leads to the thinking that he might have had an accomplice.  

    Agent Lee Harker is quite methodical as she tries to unravel the clues.  Her boss is the much more experienced Agent Carter, played by Blair Underwood, who has a photo of president Bill Clinton in his office, which is how we know the movie takes place in the 1990s.  He is married with a daughter.  Harker is the much more reserved of the two, keeping to herself and living alone.  Going through the case files and seeing the crime scenes has quite the effect on Harker.  With a laser focus, it is all she can think about. 

    There are several instances in the film where the script does not make sense.  For example, one question early on is why Harker’s FBI agent partner Fisk would have gone into a house alone that Harker suspected Longlegs was living in.  He should have either gone in with Harker or called for backup.  Also, when Harker is at her residence late at night, she hears someone knocking at her door.  While she does not answer, a short while later, she goes outside to see who it could be.  One would not think that an FBI agent would want to try to figure out who it could be in that situation, especially if she thought it could be Longlegs.  When Harker and Agent Carter drive to a family farm where murders took place years earlier to try to uncover possible clues, it does not make sense why they would do so at night. Doing so during the daytime would be more sensible.  

    The film has a bleak, wintry look to it.  This adds to the unease and suspense that permeates the picture. Also, the film’s production design is very well thought out.  

    Cage, somewhat in his appearance, and definitely in his demeanor, resembles Heath Ledger’s Joker from “The Dark Knight.”  Delivering an unsettling, creepy performance, he leaves an impression. Monroe, meanwhile, is stoic and understated in her role, the complete opposite of Cage.  

    The movie can be best thought of as a flawed puzzle, where all the pieces do not fit neatly together, but the various elements intrigue.  Certainly very disturbing and uncompromising, the picture is consistently involving and not easy to forget.  A word of warning, though: not for the squeamish viewer.  

  • Beverly Hills Cop – Review  

    Beverly Hills Cop – Review  

    Beverly Hills Cop – Review. By Daniel Rester.  

    With the release of Beverly Hills Cop: Axel F this summer, a lot of eyes are on the Eddie Murphy comedy series again. It began forty years ago with Beverly Hills Cop (1984), which cemented Murphy as a movie star after his success with Saturday Night Live and the films 48 Hrs. (1982) and Trading Places (1983). It was even the highest-grossing film of its year in the United States and was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay.  

    Beverly Hills Cop has Murphy playing a rule-breaking Detroit cop named Axel Foley. After being involved in a high-speed chase and being reprimanded, Axel is visited by his childhood friend Mikey (James Russo). Soon Mikey is killed, which leads Axel to visit Beverly Hills in order to find his killers. Axel enters the art gallery world, and deals with the local police who are tailing him. 

    Director Martin Brest’s film remains a highly entertaining action comedy. Yes, some elements are dated, such as the positive look at cops constantly breaking safety procedures and lying to everyday people for their own gain. But the film still provides a ton of fun overall, and it’s set to the very memorable synth-pop score by Harold Faltermeyer. 

    The gags and wisecracks land often thanks to Daniel Petrie Jr. and Danilo Bach’s clever writing and Murphy’s comedic timing. Axel being a fish out of water in California allows Murphy to poke fun at the superficial layers of Beverly Hills; his reactions to the prices of hotel rooms and fine art are gold. The actor knows when to pull back too, though, allowing real emotion to come through as Axel grieves Mikey’s death. This is Murphy in his prime, balancing the hilarious and the relatable with ease. 

    Judge Reinhold and John Ashton also shine as cops Rosewood and Taggart, respectively. They play it straight as Murphy goes energetic, with the three having wonderful chemistry. Meanwhile, Steven Berkoff plays sleazy well as the villain Victor Maitland and Jonathan Banks (future Breaking Bad star) is a fine dirty henchman. 

    The film could have used a little more action, as it is mostly placed in the beginning and end while the middle is just mystery-focused. The action that is there is exciting though. The climactic shootout sequence at a mansion is well-shot and surprisingly intense. The series would lean more into action beginning with the second installment, which isn’t surprising given that Tony Scott directed that entry.  

    Beverly Hills Cop is a classic buddy cop comedy. It is essential viewing for anyone exploring Murphy’s career. The sequels, including the new one, never quite hit the highs of Brest’s original 1984 film. 

    Rating: 8.7/10

  • Making A Beatles Movie In Ireland: Part 2

    Making A Beatles Movie In Ireland: Part 2

    Making a Beatles Movie in Ireland: Part 2. My journey with my short Beatles film, Mersey Boys. By Steven G. Farrell.

    In 2017 I flew over to Ireland to make a movie with Paddy Murphy and Celtic Badger Media Films. It was a thrill of a lifetime because I had developed the concept with my novel, Mersey Boys. The ten-minute short was entitled Mersey Boys a Letter From Al Moran and it used a screenplay written by Paddy, who also directed and produced the film. The cast included actors from Great Britain (Jessica Messenger and Graham Gill), Ireland (Fiach Kunz, Robert Bourke, Michael Casey and Ben Collopy) and the United States (Rachel Cobb and myself). We shot in Galway in the west of Ireland and Wicklow in the east of Ireland. Rachel and I were on a break from our teaching jobs at Greenville Technical, South Carolina, and we could only attend the shoot in Galway. It took the Celtic Badger Media Films people sometime to mix and edit the film. During my wait, I sat down at my desk and typed a short article entitle Making a Beatles Movie in Ireland. The article was first published online by Battle Royale with Cheese, a British film blog, in 2018. Afterwards, the piece appeared in The British Beatles Fan Club Magazine and The Path: A Literary Magazine.  Its final appearance was in my book, Our Path Leads to Readers, a collection of fiction and nonfiction published by PTP Book Division, Fountain Hills, Arizona in 2022.

    I concluded my essay by mentioning that we had submitted the film to several international film festivals such as Cannes. I was confident that the selections would be rolling in, one after another. It didn’t work at that way… at least, not for a few years.  However, it is now seven years after my collaboration with Paddy Murphy, and my short film has taken on a life of its very own. Mersey Boys: A Letter From Al Moran has now won eleven awards recognized by Imdb, as well as seven nominations. It has appeared in sixteen film festivals, not to mention several Beatle-theme events. At this point, the film has screened live or via podcast in Wales, Ireland, England, Sweden, Poland, Israel, India, Canada, the United States, Peru and Mexico. The film has given me the opportunity to present my Making a Beatles Movie article as a lecture while screening my Mersey Boys: A Letter from Al Moran in Del Ray, Florida and Greenville, South Carolina.  Both the film and the article have provided me with many adventures and new avenues these past seven years.

    Brief summary of Mersey Boys: A Letter From Al Moran:

    First Scene (filmed in Galway)

    Moira (Rachel Cobb) and Gerard Moran (the author) fly to Ireland from the U.S.A for the funeral of their Uncle Al Moran, who had retired to the land of his ancestors after teaching at the Liverpool Art College, England for many years. Moira brews some tea as Gerard starts going through his uncle’s belonging. He begins to read a letter written by his uncle many years ago.

    Second Scene (filmed in Wicklow a week later after the filming of the first scene)

    Al Moran (Fiach Kunz) is seated in a Liverpool pub and served a pint of Guiness stout by Squire Clancey, the bartender.  Ginny Browne (Jessica Messenger), the barmaid, rushes in complaining how the Mersey ferry boat had been late and had held her up. It is obvious from his facial expression that Al likes Ginny. For her part, she enjoys teasing the older American. Shortly afterwards, three young men enter the pub. They are the Beatles: all clad in black leather jackets and carrying their guitars. John (Robert Bourke) makes his way to the bar where he flirts with Ginny, calls Al a ‘square’ and cadges a free pint from the Yank. Al doesn’t like the young Brit and he is jealous that Ginny seems to be charmed by the punk. John then introduces Paul (Michael Casey) and George (Benson Collopy) to the American. Paul is more likeable than John. As the Beatles start to do a sound check for their upcoming night performance, John rushes back into the barroom and demands that Ginny pull out a camera and take a photograph of John and Al. John looks cocky and Al looks uncomfortable as the light bulb flashes.

    Third scene (filmed on the day of the first scene)

    Moira brings in the tea set as Gerard is finishing up the letter. She points into the desk drawer at a faded photograph. She exclaims: “isn’t that John Lennon?” It turns out that it is the picture snapped years before by Ginny Browne inside of the pub. Does the photograph bare out Al’s claim that he had met the Beatles before they became famous?

    Now I would like to write up the second part of the story: it is my Beatle voyage that has been the sunlight in my declining years as I advance further and further into old age and irrelevancy in the 21st century. Before I continue, I should put in proper place the third leg of the stool of my legacy with the Beatles.  In 2023 PTP Book Division published my Beatles’ novel, Al and the Moon Dogs. Like my movie and article, the book has had its own unique voyage through the years. I published The Scousers in 1994 with Dan Rivers a publishing house in Maine. I self-published the novel in 2009 with Bookstand Publisher of California. In this alternative version, I transformed the Beatles into the Scousers, a band that rivaled the Beatles in Liverpool during the early sixties. In 2013 my original Scousers novel was cut by one third and published by World Audience Publishers of New York, New York. I decided I made more money by self-publishing, so I published it under my own imprint of Celtic-Badger Publishers in 2013. Al and the Moon Dogs is the fifth rendition of essentially the same story I had published in 1995. The novel was written when I was over in Japan teaching English in the early part of the Nineties. The premise of the story is that an American, Al Moran, takes a lecturing position at the Liverpool Art College in England. Al soon falls in love with Ginny Browne, a very beautiful but individualistic liberated scouse lass and barmaid, who introduces him to a very cocky young rock n roller by the name of John Lennon. After clashing upon their first meeting, Al and John soon become fast friends; and the rocker introduces Al to his struggling bandmates, Paul McCartney and George Harrison and their struggling band The Silver Beatles. Al is part of the Beatles story until they become famous and move away to London. Al and Ginny are left behind in Liverpool with each other and their memories. Of course, the fictional tale is my re-imaged story of the Beatles.

    Back to my short film: Mersey Boys: A Letter From Al Moran.

    Paddy Murphy put our ten-minute movie on the film festival circuit without any success after ten submissions. I encouraged him to give it the old college try with another five entries. As 2018 was closing out the film was zero for fifteen. I was stunned because I believed the movie was well-done enough to earn at least one selection. Granted, our budget had been a mere $5,000: small even by the standard of independent short films, but our cast and crew did an excellent job in all of their performances and duties.  I still believed that Jessica Messenger as Ginny Browne, Fiach Kunz as Al Moran, Robert Bourke as John Lennon, Michael Casey as Paul McCartney, Benson Collopy as George Harrison, Graham Gill as Squire Clancy and Rachel Cobb as Moira Moran had done a stellar work as an ensemble cast. I knew my role as Gerard Moran was the weakest link in the film. Barry Fahy had done a great job with the camera work. Paddy Murphy, as the producer, director and screenplay writer had been superlative in all three tasks.

    I reached the conclusion that film festivals were rejecting my movie because it was a fictional story using the real-life Beatles as the main character. I didn’t have permission to use them, but the film hadn’t been made for commercial purposes. We weren’t making a profit from our efforts. The film was also using tongue-in-cheek satire of whether this story took place in reality, or if it was simply from the imagination of a dying old man.

    Around Christmas time of 2018 I saw an advertisement for the Beatles on the Beach International Beatles Festival at Del Ray, Florida. It was to be a three-day long beach party celebration with live music in April of 2019. I must have found the ad during a goggle for Beatles festivals.  I figured I didn’t have anything to lose, so I emailed a link of the film to Daniel Hartwell, director of the event, via facebook. It was less than an hour later when Daniel telephoned me and accepted the film for his beach party. I treated it like a major victory! Come April of 2019 I meet my friends Chris and Lynn Wisenbaker in Florida, where we enjoyed the line-up of Beatles cover bands from all over the world. The screening attracted around fifty spectators: not good, not bad, but their response was great. It was run in the beautiful Pavilion at The Old School Square, a historic venue in the resort city of Del Ray.  I met Tony Bramwell, who had been an assistant to the Beatles since the days he carried George Harrison’s guitar so he could get into the clubs for free where the Beatles were playing in their earliest days. Tony recently passed away. It was great having a photograph taken with him up on the stage with the big screen behind us where my film had made its world premiere after I had given a brief presentation about the making of the film. I even sold twenty copies of my novel. To be honest about it, I wanted to savor each and every moment because I was convinced that my Beatles movie would be a one-trick pony with the International Beatles on the Beach Festival as its only hurrah. My prediction seemed to be manifesting itself into what New Agers call a self-fulfilling prophecy. 

    I had been teaching in the Speech and Theatre Department since 2006 when Karen Kotiw of the Human Sciences Department requested that I screen the movie during the International Education Week to be celebrated in October of 2019. Her logic being that since my film was made in Ireland and I was in Education, she could slot it into her week’s agenda. My presentation and the movie took place inside of in the University Transfer Building’s Auditorium, a floor below my office. I love speaking in front of an audience, but doing a presentation in front of my students and peers was rather daunting. All went well, but for whatever what reason the film didn’t look good on the screen due to technical difficulties that were resolved…the next day. Emily Warner, a staff reporter at the Greenville Journal gave me a nice writeup under the title of Greenville Professor Steve Farrell to Present his Beatles Film at Tech.

    A shared experience we all had together was when the windows and the doors of the world began to slam shut during the opening months of 2020. It was a traumatic time of illness, face masks and isolation.  Covid 19 had poisoned our world with its germs. My classes at Greenville Technical College went from face-to-face to online, stressing out both my students and myself in the process. I was one of the few professors who still reported to my campus office. The hallways were dark and quiet during this dark and quiet epoch.  I’m not sure what motivated me, but I decided to jump back into the film festival circuit to test the waters. I must have felt I would have more luck with less competition on the market due to the pestilence. The first one to select my film was The Sprouting Seed Festival in India. I was overwhelmed. I wondered how many young Indian filmmakers actually were impacted by the Beatles and their music. In quick succession my film was selected by The Sweden Film Awards, The Depth of Field International Film Festival in Delaware, and the Near Nazareth Film Festival, Israel. All of them had their screenings online.

    The highlight of this slew of successes were when Mersey Boys” A Letter From Al Moran won the Merit Award (3rd place) at the Depth of Field and the Gold Award (1st place) at the Near Nazareth film festivals. I had entered the film into the event in Israel because my mother had always been a devout Christian, and she had always dreamed about visiting the ‘Holy Land.’  I was aghast when I posted the award at facebook and I received blowback from people who were deeply concerned about the explosive situation between Israel and Palestine. I can only say I did it for my mom. I also stressed that I love both the Jewish and the Arab people. I don’t think politics should be allowed to encroach upon the world of art and filmmaking.

    The hot streak continued into 2021 when the film made its’ way into the Fan Fiction Film Festival in Toronto, Canada. The committee even filmed fan reactions to my Beatles film. I think the crowd was limited to around twenty-seven spectators and they all had to wear masks inside of the theater. I also commissioned the same Canadian film committee to make a one-minute Vimeo trailer for Mersey Boys. We received a Best Performance Award, but it isn’t recognized by Imdb.

    In June of 2021 I received the biggest thrill of my festivals journey when my film won the Silver Award (2nd place) for Best Short at the prestigious International New York Film Festival. I watched it on streaming on my computer. About half-way through the thirty-minute program, Daine Lasko, the master of ceremony, announced the film and the producers, Paddy Murphy and Steven G. Farrell. To this day I laugh to myself because Ms. Lasko pronounced Paddy’s name as ‘Patty.’

    To compound my victory, the dean at my college projected the photograph of my award up on the screen inside of the University Transfer Building Auditorium’s during the Arts & Science Division’s autumn meeting in September of that year. I was very proud to receive the warm applauds of my colleagues. I also felt it was time to retire: retire from teaching and retire from the film festival world. I was well-satisfied to walk away from a thirty-five-year teaching career and gold, silver and merit awards for my film. I was that proud to place the three awards on the Imdb page for Mersey Boys: A Letter From Al Moran.

    Somewhere along the way in the hazy days of 20 and 21, I can’t remember exactly now, my friend Carlos E. Larriega, broadcaster for The Mundo Beatles radio program in Peru, helped me to get my Mersey Boys: A Letter From Al Moran presented at Beatles’ events in Peru and Mexico. The movie was shown live in Mexico City with captions in Spanish by Carlos. My friend from South America had earlier conducted an interview with me that was put up online in the Spanish language that could be translated into English.

    I thought my journey was basically over and done with as 2021 closed out. Life has a way of compelling us pilgrims back on to the highway of life to continue our journey whenever we think we can rest upon our laurels. I moved back to my home town of Kenosha, Wisconsin because I had found a reasonably priced flat online, and I had been offered three sections of public speaking at the University of Wisconsin-Parkside. During the winter of 2022, I found myself back inside of the lecture halls of higher learning. I didn’t give my film project much thought until later in the year when I saw an advertisement for the Cynon Valley Film Awards in Wales at The Film Freeway web page. I submitted the film because I had not had my film projected on the silver screen in the United Kingdom up to that point. The Covid-19 had finally receded to the point where film festivals could once again put on their live screenings. Upon being selected, I was tickled to see that my film was going to be screened inside of the lovely St Elvans Church in the small village of Aberdare, just a few hours train ride due south from Cardiff, the capital of Wales. I was tempted to make the flight over the Atlantic Ocean, but the arthritis in my right knee said otherwise. I was disappointed not to be able to attend in person, but I felt better when the film received an award for best screenplay. The trophy was mailed directly to me by the organizer, Nigel Evans. Sadly, the award can’t be inserted on the Imdb page because the festival is brand new and needs to have five years behind it in order to be considered a qualifying event. It doesn’t matter because the trophy looks good upon my bookshelf. With the trophy and the screening in Great Britain behind me, I once again stepped back from the Mersey Boys project. However, having a short film and access to Film Freeway proved to be too much of an allure for me as 2023 rolled around.

    I found that the Los Angeles market was rich for the taking.  Winning an award for best screenplay also planted the seed inside of my mind to enter in other categories besides Best Short such as Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Ensemble Cast and Best Screenplay. The fee was higher, but it cast a larger net. If one uses the discount code for early submissions, it can slash the cost by up to 50%. In succession the film was in The Indie X Film Festival, The Indie Film Festival, the Hollywood Verge Awards and The Best Shorts Competition. Mersey Boys was able to garnish five more awards, including a Recognition Award for Jessica Messenger, our female lead. I was delighted when we took home two prizes in the Ensemble Cast Award category.  Conceited me: I purchased a massive statue for a third-place finish. Yes, it sits proudly on my bookcase along with my Welsh trophy. I’m a seventy-year-old man who has never ever won anything in my life save for the military draft. It was a senior moment for me when I unpacked my personal Oscar and started to weep.

    I was on a tear, but I wanted to step away before the worm turned and my film would no longer be selected. I saw my last opportunity arise with the Liverpool Indie Awards in my beloved England. My knee surgery having been successful, I was determined to fly over to Europe to attend. The day the film was selected, I made my flight and hotel reservations with Expedia.com. I also persuaded my friend and business partner, Aaron Almani, to meet me by the Albert Docks near the Mersey River. Ronnie and I are currently pitching the Beatles project as a feature-film. I also contacted Michael Derham and Tim Tagg, two good mates of mine from my Japanese teaching days. I pestered them into making the trip to Liverpool to be with me when my film screened on the home turf of the Fab Four. Folks, life doesn’t get any better than this!

    Ronnie and I booked rooms at the Crowne Plaza Hotel, which is a very short walking distance to the statues of the Beatles near the entrance of the dock. We rode the ferry boat across the Mersey River, visited the Cavern Club, and drank plenty of pints of Guiness stout. I even had a pint with my friend Tim Tagg in the hotel pub late one night. Ronnie wanted to visit a pharmacy which was the exact location (the spot is marked by a statue of Brian) where Brian Epstein ran his record shop before he took on the managerial role for John, Paul, George and, Pete Best. Later on, Ringo replaced Pete on the drums. Speaking of Pete, one of the highlights of trip was when we visited Roag Best’s Beatles Museum on Mathew Street, where we met my mate, Tom Donohue, the Liverpool artist who had done the drawings for my Beatles novel. His charcoal drawing of Al Moran, Ginny Browne and John Lennon, named by me as Ginny in the Middle, hangs on the wall over my head as I write this memoir. I should mention at this point, that Ronnie is slated to play the part of Brian Epstein if we’re able to dig up the finances for our project. Two of Ronnie’s screen credits are in gangster movie productions by Danny Abeckaser; Mob Town (2019) and Inside Man (2023).

    My entourage and I (Michael, Michael’s wife Ellie and their niece, Tom Donohue and Ronnie Almani) all meet at the Southport Bijou Theater, a forty-minute train ride from Liverpool. It was wonderful seeing Mersey Boys: A Letter From Al Moran in front of a very crowded theatre audience in England, home of the Beatles. I felt old dude was allowed to tear-up when the folks applauded at the conclusion of the film’s run time. It was the moment that truly made the entire journey worthwhile. Of course, I wouldn’t be Steve if I didn’t walk up at the wrong time for the wrong award. Somewhere out there is a photograph of me attempting to receive the Best Actress Award for a wonderful film produced in London. I was lucky the winner didn’t knock me out. Luckily, I was able to turn my disaster into a joke when Ronnie and I received an Honorable Mention certificate. “Am I in the right place now?” I asked to laughter. I am the absent-mined professor. 

    By all rights, the screening in Liverpool should have been my end game as far as Mersey Boys: A Letter From Al Moran goes. Yet the film festival fever was still upon me and I did cartwheels in the streets of Kenosha, Wisconsin when Jessica Messenger won the Best ActressAward at the Los Angeles Movie and Music Video Awards in July of 2024. It delighted me because I had always felt that Jessica Messenger as Ginny Browne was the real star of my film. Ginny Browne is also the true star in my novel, Al and the Moon Dogs; she is the brightest star in my saga who even outshines the Beatles. She is the best female character I have even created. 

    Jessica is now married and she has a son. She has started up her own online business since appearing in Mersey Boys: A Letter from Al Moran.  She is currently the makeup artist at Villian Aesthetics, as well as a podcast host for Faces Covers.  Fiach Kunz, who played Al Moran, has recently done stage work in Dublin in John B. Keane’s play, Becoming Maggie. He has been on British television series Harry Wild, starring Jane Seymour, Witness Number 3 and Vikings since his Mersey Boys days.  Robert Bourke, our John, went to Spain to study for a few months. He’s back in Limerick and is working a nine to five job. Michael Casey, the tall Paul, recently starred as the male lead, Mark McDonagh, in the Celtic Badger Media Films’ feature production, Lulu and the Electric Dreamboat. I have lost contact with Benson Collopy, the actor who played George. Graham Gill, Square Clancy, is in Limerick, writing poetry. He has also appeared in a music video, as well as on the television program Vikings. Rachel Cobb, my colleague at Greenville Technical College, was promoted from the classroom to the position of Director of Training & Development at the college. Rachel’s promotion to administration required her to move her office to the other side of the campus. Our paths seldom crossed in the final years of my teaching days.  Paddy Murphy is still producing and directing with Celtic Badger Media Films; and he lives in Clare with his two daughters. I, Steven G. Farrell, who helped produce the film and took on the task of playing Gerard Moran, am still teaching writing and pitching my feature-length project. I shall turn 70 on July 31, 2024. I shall write no more!

    The End

  • ‘We Want The Finest Films Known To Humanity’ – Handmade Films 1978-2013 

    ‘We Want The Finest Films Known To Humanity’ – Handmade Films 1978-2013 

    ‘We Want the Finest Films Known To Humanity’ – Handmade Films 1978-2013. By Simon Thompson.

    Handmade Films was a British filmmaking Icarus, a studio which achieved so much so quickly, but burnt out in spectacular fashion. The brainchild of George Harrison (my favourite Beatle) and his business manager/attorney Denis O‘Brien, Handmade Films was a director-driven studio which helped to nurture and develop some of the greatest movies and directors in the history of British cinema. Without them we wouldn’t have had films as varied as Monty Python’s Life Of Brian, Time Bandits, The Long Good Friday, Mona Lisa, Scrubbers, A Private Function, and Withnail and I.

    Unfortunately as a company it was about as well organised as Bluth Enterprises, and as a result of numerous box office turkeys and excessive debt incurred by O’Brien, Handmade Films was gutted and made a subsidiary of Paragon entertainment-no longer the strutting independent peacock it was in its heyday. However, even after the acquisition by Paragon it was still capable of producing the odd classic such as Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels, or 127 Hours

    The origins of Handmade films can be traced to 1973, when George Harrison was introduced to Denis O’ Brien by their mutual friend Peter Sellers. The two quickly found that they got on well both professionally and personally and decided to become business partners, but they wouldn’t set up an actual tangible company together until 1978, funnily enough through a second, chance, meeting with another group of legends of British comedy. Monty Python were trying to get funding for their biblical satire Monty Python’s Life Of Brian and because of the movie’s controversial subject matter (especially at the time), EMI Studios (the company that stumped up the money for their previous movie Monty Python and The Holy Grail) didn’t want to part with the necessary funds.

    Enter Python super-fan George Harrison, who decided to fund the project by re-mortgaging his house to raise the movie’s budget, with Python member Terry Jones describing it as “the world’s most expensive cinema ticket”. Harrison’s four million dollar gamble would pay off and then some, as Life of Brian,which despite protests and controversy from various thick as mince Christian fundamentalists,(who either wilfully or unintentionally refused to understand that the film isn’t a satire of Jesus Christ at all but rather of groupthink, taking up fashionable causes despite knowing very little about them, and the irony of how Christ’s teachings have been used as the pretext for the persecution of others) was a critical and box office triumph grossing twenty million dollars in the United States and earning positive reviews from most major critics such as Roger Ebert, Gene Siskel, and Leonard Maltin and has gone on to be regarded as a comedy classic.

    By complete accident the most exciting studio in British domestic cinema since Hammer was born, which thanks to George Harrison’s considerable wealth as well as his generous and collaborative nature earmarked the burgeoning studio as the place for directors and writers to make the movies they wanted.

    1980 would be the year that proved Handmade Films wasn’t a lucky fluke, with the release of John Mackenzie’s crime thriller The Long Good Friday. A gritty, small-budget (£930,000) gangster movie, starring (at that point) mostly unknowns and character actors, shot entirely on location in London, The Long Good Friday tells the story of Harold Shand (played to perfection by Bob Hoskins) a cockney gangster property mogul trying to become a legitimate businessman via lobbying the American mafia to bankroll a mass-regeneration project of London. While Harold thinks he’s orchestrated the deal of a lifetime, a series of coordinated bombings put the deal in jeopardy and thinking there’s a rat in his organisation he ruthlessly sweeps through his ranks trying to find whose responsible.

    The Long Good Friday perfectly represents what made the Handmade Films formula work, through shooting on location and utilising a cast of actors at the beginning stages of their careers that would go onto become household names ( Bob Hoskins, Helen Mirren, Pierce Brosnan) or character actors ( Eddie Constantine, Alan Ford, Brian Hall, Paul Barber) – the studio didn’t have to push the boat out for big names, or sacrifice its artistic principles at the altar of third-party cash.

     As a movie itself The Long Good Friday is a stylish crime masterpiece, a perfect blend of stellar performances from Hoskins and Mirren, strong direction from John Mackenzie, rough yet eye-catching cinematography by Phil Méheux, and a darkly witty script by Barrie Keeffe all coming together to craft a narrative which is as relevant now as it was upon its release over forty years ago. While it wasn’t the box-office smash that Life Of Brian was upon release, it’s a movie which has undoubtedly earned the much-bandied about term ‘cult-classic’ and has gone on to be recognised as one of the greatest British films ever made by the BFI.  

    If Life of Brian gave Handmade films a pretext for existing in the first place, then The Long Good Friday gave the developing studio an identity as an outlet that wasn’t afraid to take on either controversial or out of the box ideas, something that became a point of pride for the studio with their next two films, Terry Gilliam’s Time Bandits and Mai Zetterling’s Scrubbers.

    Time Bandits is what an irritating marketing type would call a ‘high-concept’ comedy, meshing together fantasy and science fiction to create an electrifying adventure through history. The story of the movie follows an eleven year old boy named Kevin, who is fascinated by history and the world that it provides for him beyond his hum-drum suburban life. This mundane existence is broken up by the surreal entrance of a band of dwarf thieves who, armed with a magical map, jump from historical era to historical era stealing what they can along the way. Kevin tags along with the band of thieves on the adventure of a lifetime spanning all the way from Ancient Greece to the collapse of the Titanic.

    Given Gilliam’s sweeping ambitions for the project, Time Bandits proved to be the most expensive undertaking the young studio had invested in at this point, costing a whopping $5 million dollars to produce, with the huge budget largely being needed to pull off the movie’s elaborate special effects and lavishly detailed period sets. Time Bandits, however,would prove to be another smash-hit for the company, grossing $42.4 million. This was partly thanks to the involvement of Gilliam, as well as his fellow Monty Python alums John Cleese and Michael Palin and the movie being armed with a star-studded ensemble cast with huge names such as Sean Connery, Shelley Duvall, Ralph Richardson, David Warner, Katherine Helmond, Ian Holm, and Peter Vaughn – all lending their talents and name recognition to the film. 

    Time Bandits showed that Handmade was a flexible studio in that it could not only handle the smaller scale (Long Good Friday), but that it was equally comfortable when it came to making movies with budgets in the multi-million range, unafraid to make financial leaps in the dark if they strongly believed in a script and a filmmaker. The profitability of Time Bandits demonstrated an uncanny amount of commercial nous for a studio that had only been operating for two years. It was clear to anybody with a half-working brain that Handmade were on one hell of a hot-streak- with seemingly no end in sight. 

    1982 would be a smaller, but by no means a bad, year for the studio. Like Manny Pacquiao pulling off a perfect combination, Handmade pivoted from making crowd-pleasing blockbusters back to the indie end of the scale with Swedish director Mai Zetterling’s Scrubbers – an unflinching low-budget drama set in a women’s borstal, in the vein of Alan Clarke’s Scum (1979), with screen-writer Roy Minton having worked on both. 

    Scrubber’s realistic and no-holds barred approach towards its subject is still shocking to this day and although I don’t think it’s nearly as good as Scum, from an artistic standpoint it’s still a fascinating time capsule of dark and economically miserable early 1980s Britain, a great exercise in spotting people who would eventually become famous in the cast (Kathy Burke, Robbie Coltrane, and Miriam Margolyes) and showed that Handmade was a studio willing to take on subject matter which much of the domestic British film industry- let alone Hollywood- wouldn’t touch with a barge pole. 

    By this point Handmade was keeping up a steady rate of making roughly two or three movies per year, carefully chosen by Harrison and O Brien to ensure that the small studio, which didn’t exactly have a Scrooge McDuckian vault of money to play with, could always stay afloat. Although Handmade’s next spate of releases, The Missionary, Privates On Parade, and Bullshot didn’t exactly set the box-office alight or earn wide-spread critical praise, they were made on small enough budgets that any financial loss occurred on them, wasn’t enough to drive the company into the ground. 

    Wide-spread critical praise would come to the studio once again with the release of Malcom Mowbray’s A Private Function in 1984. A modestly budgeted (£1.2 million) comedy scripted by cream cracker connoisseur Alan Bennett (of Talking Heads – the monologues, not the band, fame), A Private Function tells the story of a small Yorkshire town in 1947, during Britain’s post-war austerity. To celebrate the wedding of Princess Elizabeth and Prince Philip the town’s most well-to-do residents decide to hold a party to commemorate the occasion, and, to get around food rationing, choose to raise a pig illegally for the party. Their plan, however, is in danger of being scuppered by a Dirty-Harryesque dogged food inspector (Bill Patterson) and Gilbert and Joyce Chilvers (Michael Palin and Maggie Smith), who steal the pig because of Joyce’s desire to raise their social standing. 

    A Private Function is the Handmade formula at its best, starring a cast I could best describe as a Bafta roll-call (Maggie Smith, Pete Postlethwaite, Liz Smith, Michael Palin, Richard Griffiths, Allison Smith, Jim Carter, Alison Steadman). It’s an acerbic, pointed commentary on class and a rapidly changing post-war Britain and doesn’t feel dated at all due to the movie’s witty script, stellar acting, and strong characterisation- in particular Maggie Smith giving a masterful performance as Joyce Chilvers, a character whom you both pity and despise in equal measure. 

    Although the movie barely earned its budget back, it was a critical success, winning three Bafta Awards in the UK and getting positive reviews from Stateside critics such as Siskel and Ebert – who gave it a coveted two thumbs up and described it as a “really funny movie” and a “ flat out winner”, with Ebert praising the humour by saying “just beneath this veneer of respectability is utter madness.” 

    A Private Function served as a reminder that Handmade was a studio at its best when making movies with a majority British cast and small budgets, and that they didn’t need the bells and whistles of Hollywood-style budgets to make films that create a lasting impact. 

    1985 would prove to be the start of a downward turn for the company with the studio producing Dick Clement’s Water,a comedy which massively bloated in budget and failed to attract strong box-office and positive critical reception. Michael Palin believed it to be a turning point for Handmade-saying that “ [the film] was such a disaster and yet so much money was put into it. Somehow the luck ran out because judgement up to that time had been pretty good.”

    But 1985 would only be a dress-rehearsal for a very mixed 1986, with Handmade releasing two films, Neil Jordan’s brilliant Mona Lisa and the project which many point to as the beginning of the end for Handmade Films, Jim Goddard’s Shanghai Surprise.

    Handmade’s 1986 got off to a great start with its gritty London set neo-noir Mona Lisa, a film which could be described as a very British take on Taxi Driver and Paul Schrader’s Hardcore. Mona Lisa centres around George (Bob Hoskins), a gangster who has been released from prison after a seven year sentence, who subsquently finds himself driving around an escort named Simone (Cathy Tyson), as a favour to his old boss Mortwell (Michael Caine). George at first can’t stand Simone but his detestation for her soon turns into genuine affection and he resolves to help her break away from her vicious pimp Anderson (Clarke Peters). 

    With a dark and poignant, yet unsentimental script, about two fundamentally contrasting protagonists who are united by their mutual loneliness; fantastic cinematography utilising London’s seediest parts to their full cinematic potential; a plot which keeps you on the edge of your seat and stellar acting by Bob Hoskins, Robbie Coltrane, Cathy Tyson, and Michael Caine, Mona Lisa represents one of the last low-budget high-reward movies that Handmade would make. 

    Although only made with a two million pound budget, the movie made double its money back at the box office, was well received by critics, and nominated for various Critics and Academy awards-showing that no matter what Denis O’ Brien believed, Handmade were best suited to the smaller budget end of the scale.

    Sadly, what comes up must come down and the first real body-blow to Handmade’s finances was just around the corner, with Shanghai Surprise. By this point Denis O’Brien had been borrowing insane amounts of money that his creditors wouldn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of getting back, and furrowing it into films such as the previously mentioned Water, but it would be adventure-comedy Shanghai Surprise that proved the box-office bomb that would practically detonate the company along with it. 

    Conceived as a throwback to classic adventure movies such as Casablanca, The African Queen, and The Lady From Shanghai in the vein of what Spielberg and Lucas did with Indiana Jones, Shanghai Surprise follows the mis-adventures of a sleazy con-man (Sean Penn), who, after encountering a beautiful nurse (Madonna), agrees to help her obtain a supply of stolen opium for her to use to help her patients. The problem is that various other gangsters and drug-traffickers also want the opium, leading to much hijinks and hilarity.

    To quote Tyler Durden, Handmade spent “money they didn’t have on shit that they didn’t need”. Shanghai Surprise represented a break with everything that made the studio work. Instead of being made on a small £1-3 million budget (with anything 5 or over pushing the boat out), Shanghai Surprise was given a whopping £15 million budget (roughly £42 million now). Instead of hiring mainly cheap British talent, the movie boasted an all star high price cast in Madonna and Sean Penn, who were the celebrity it couple at that time, and instead of being filmed in the UK the shoot entirely took place in Hong Kong and Macau, allowing the budget to sprial out of control. 

    Coupled with a shoot that became so strained George Harrison had to fly to south-east Asia to smooth things out, and a costly marketing campaign in the UK, Shanghai Surprise was playing with house money to the extent that simply to break-even at the box office would still spell Handmade’s epitaph.

    The film debuted to non-existent fanfare in America- to the point where its distributor in the States, MGM slashed its marketing budget in half, and it was absolutely savaged by critics. Bill Cosford of the Miami Herald called it an inferior miniaturisation of Indiana Jones as well as saying that Penn and Madonna were both miscast in the leading roles. Other publications such as the Philadelphia Inquirer were somehow even less kind, giving it one star and describing it as beyond redemption, and the San Diego Union called it an unoriginal regurgitation of classic adventure movies.

    With a £15 million budget and a £2.31 million gross, Jim Goddard’s movie was the final straw which broke what was already a pretty financially unstable camel’s back. However, despite teetering on the edge of ruin, Handmade would somehow release another masterpiece in 1987, Bruce Robinson’s pitch-black 1960s set comedy Withnail And I

    Like Handmade’s debut Monty Python’s Life Of Brian before it, Withnail and I is a cult-classic that generations of British film fans constantly half-quote after a few drinks. Set in 1969, the movie tells the story of two struggling actors named Withnail and Marwood (Richard E Grant and Paul McGann), stuck in an endless cycle of squalor and inebriation in a flat in Camden. In desperate need of a change of scene the two decide to take a weekend trip to a country cottage belonging to Withnail’s flamboyantly eccentric uncle Monty (Richard Griffiths), where events go from bad to somehow even worse. 

    Filmed on an absolute shoe-string budget of £1.1 million pounds and beset by such numerous production troubles that Denis O’ Brien almost shut down filming on the first day because he believed the movie suffered from “bad lighting” and had “no discernible jokes”, and Robinson himself admitted on set he “had no clue what he was doing” as a first-time director. Bruce Robinson would also have to part with £30,000 of his £80,000 fee as a director so that the countryside portion of the movie could be filmed, because O’ Brien wouldn’t release any additional funds. 

    But with Robinson and Harrison’s refusal to back down, the movie was completed and a cult-classic was born. Due to what I can only imagine to be the economic devastation caused by Shangahi Surprise the film’s box office suffered from a non-existing marketing campaign, just barely making its budget back with a £1.7 million total.

    However, thanks to the power of it being re-played on Channel 4 constantly and the then burgeoning home-video market,Withnail and I has become one of the most esteemed films in the history of post-war British cinema. 

    It is a marriage between witty scripting, fantastic performances from Richard E Grant, Paul McGann, and Richard Griffiths, a gold-standard, expensive, soundtrack thanks to George Harrison’s funds, and a cynical and despondent tone so out of step with prevailing Hollywood sensibilities at that time that an entire generation of British comedy talent from Charlie Higson to Adam Buxton and Joe Cornish would be inspired  by it.

    In many ways Withnail and I represents the perfect final masterpiece for Handmade. Even though its a movie which is mourning the end of an era two decades before its release, in its own strange way it signals the end of the Handmade era of filmmaking where the director’s vision was paramount and no subject was too taboo or risky to bring to the screen. 

    ‘We Want The Finest Films Known To Humanity’ - Handmade Films 1978-2013 

    As the 1980s closed Handmade would still continue to make movies with middling success. Bruce Robinson’s follow up to Withnail and I, How to Get Ahead in Advertising,would earn decent reviews but wasn’t going to pull the studio out of its financial blackhole. Despite the unanimous praise for Jonathon Sacks’s Powwow Highway, as the 1980s became the 1990s Handmadestarted the new decade with two absolutely putrid duds in Nuns on The Run and Cold Dog Soup-two movies which sound exactly like Troy McClure starring vehicles. 

    By 1991 Handmade would completely cease operations and George Harrison would sue Denis O’ Brien to the tune of $25 million in fraud and negligence damages, resulting in an $11.6 million payout five years later. 

    Although Paragon entertainment bought the company in 1996 after the lawsuit and resurrected it, without Harrison and O’Brien it wasn’t the same studio- and in spite of making some well received films under Paragon, such as Guy Ritchie’s Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (1998) and Danny Boyle’s 127 Hours (2010), the studio would constantly be on the verge of administration until the clock finally struck twelve in 2013- and Handmade now no longer existed under any ownership at all.

    Even though Handmade made all the classic mistakes and burnt out as a creative force far before its time, it’s a studio which has left a legacy to British cinema as much as Ealing or Hammer. In the words of Eric Idle, if you “looked at the British film industry in the 1980s and took Handmade’s films out, there would be almost nothing left.” The legacy of Handmade can be seen in the bold vision of Channel Four Films who in the 1990s have occupied the ground where Handmade once stood, and by the fact that their 1980s output is still being watched, discussed, and adored all these decades later- a beautiful fact that can’t be measured by a balance sheet.