Stardust

What follows is my critical reaction to Stardust, centred largely on the success of its plotting. It isn't a typical review, not by any means, but it does draw attention to what I think is the most interesting element of the film, not to mention its most bizarrely underappreciated in any number of pieces by unfairly caustic critics.

On a scriptwriter's corkboard, Stardust would look like a pretty much perfect film. That is to say, stripped down to a series of events, one after the other, there's not really anything to fault it for at all. Everything follows in a logical sequence, at a well-controlled pace, there's a good share of surprises, cliche is kept in its place, the characters' motivations read clearly and the rules of this odd fantasy universe are set up, exploited and subverted in nice, bold steps. Everything is, above all else, perfectly coherent. And don't underestimate this evaluation - surprisingly few films are so well structured. Kudos, then, to Jane Goldman and Matthew Vaughn, the credited scriptwriters, and also to Neil Gaiman who not only wrote the original novel but provided some uncredited alterations to the script.

I think, in designing a film, the principal concern of the writers, directors and actors should be to make sense. The audience's understanding is not just some barren bedrock for their appreciation, it's planted with the seeds of investment, of caring, of being interested. If you can understand every step of the way what the hero wants, say, what will happen if he is denied it, why he wants it now and what might prevent him from having it, then you can truly and honestly empathise with him (though not necessarily sympathise - that's a question of what it is he wants and why, or perhaps simply why he hasn't got it already). It's when your film works perfectly on the corkboard - no matter how many index cards you break it down to, no matter how sophisticated a level of minutiae you zoom in to - that you, filmmaker, can move on to make your next layer of decisions.

Somewhere between this first layer and the next, Stardust lost its way a little. As further layers were added on, the meandering became even more erratic.

I'd say that this second set of filmmaking decisions appear to be the most glamourous ones because this is where the dressing up begins. This is where mood and atmosphere and style and tone and cinematic grandeur all get slathered on. The story - because that's what the corkboard contains - already has subtext, already digs into themes, already explains character (because, after all, we are what we do and we only do what we do because of who we are). It even already creates atmosphere and mood. On top of story, almost everything else is superfluous, no matter how glamourous.

The job, really, when styling up; when layering on top; when taking your corkboard covered in index cards and expanding it to a screenplay; when taking this screenplay and shaking a shot list out of it; when having these shots drawn as storyboards; when scheduling the shooting, when turning up on set and actually shooting; when taking this footage and slipping and sliding its colour scheme around, or putting in CG monsters and mountains and other magical things; when cutting everything together; and when you're putting music, voices, creaking doors, heavy footsteps and all manner of weirder noises on top is always the same thing. The job is to protect those original little 3 inch by five inch cards, those little windows onto your story.

Filmmaking is damage control - you've heard that before. The damage you need to control is damage to the story, those bare bones that come before there's even a full screenplay. To Matthew Vaughn's credit, he managed to deflect at least half of the shots that would otherwise have been on target.

But what of the other shots? The ones that hit? What damage did they do?

The real question, I suppose, is how do you damage a story? The first way (worst way?) is to distract from it. The key asset of the corkboard, as we were saying, is coherence. So incoherence is the enemy, of course, and even doubts, those moments of partial incoherence, or threatened incoherence, can be a serious problem if they persist.

In accepting a narrative, at least a narrative based in something like a real universe (and this includes everything from The Wizard of Oz to Mulholland Drive to Star Wars to The Bourne Ultimatum to Pandora's Box and pretty much any other film you could ever name - the exceptions being things like Mothlight or Bop-Scotch, with Meshes of the Afternoon being an example of a contentious film, though one that I would just about put in the former category) the audience will automatically perceive this narrative's universe as being rather like their own in some basic, fundamental ways. So basic and fundamental that it almost sounds a bit crazy to note some of them as examples but here you go: gravity has an effect; visible objects are also visible to the characters on screen; the characters have something like relatable psychology - and so on. It is (in part) because of these assumptions that we are able to happily suspend disbelief, lose focus on the illusion of the 2D rectangle flickering before us and start to perceive reality in the characters and events we see cast upon it. This is the glue that holds the engine of the film together while the clarity of cause and effect, as present on that corkboard, is the fuel, and if a filmmaker wants the film to make it to the finish line without breaking down into a disinteresting, maybe even frustrating wreck, then they don't want too many pieces of the engine to rattle free.

Now, we can argue all day about what shatters the suspension of disbelief (or perhaps more properly put, halts the suspension of a new belief) but I sincerely believe injudicious use of zooms, jump cuts, unmotivated camera movement, obtuse stylisation - in short, the visibility of an author's hand - will do the trick every time. To protect the immaculate story he had at his disposal, Matthew Vaughn was required to keep his touch light, his choices apt and subtle, his shot designs and cutting fluid, inobtrusive and articulate (in a film grammar sense) and, sadly, he has routinely failed.

The saviour of many of Vaughn's bad decisions is convention. The current cinemagoing culture in most places that Stardust will play, certainly for the foreseeable future, are used to many of his failed conceits of cinematography and montage. For example, the constituent levels of an early shot that leaves one scene, twists around unbroken and follows a shooting star into a new location (and doesn't maintain simple spatial consistency) definitely seem familiar enough, and certainly have accepted, conventional denotations that Vaughn capitalises on. However, stripped of this specific acceptance, the shot's many flaws, and its disruptive connotations, would be far more damaging to the audience's attentions. Basically, we've seen enough mediocre films and muddled filmmaking to get by with shots like these.

Many other faults are more of an immediate issue: wavering accents, dodgy FX work, overwrought scoring, conspicuous performances (Gervais - that means you) all drag down if often only a little. These are all minor strikes against that perfect film, the imaginary one powerfully suggested by a stripped-down corkboard version. And that's the issue with Stardust, really - the constant barrage of little imperfections in the cinematic realisation, where in its purest story form it would imply an almost perfect film.

Neil Gaiman's novel, illustrated by Charles Vess, embodies the story far more ideally and if I didn't know this, perhaps I would have been more patient with the film. His control of the written word far outweighs Vaughn's way with a camera, even his acting (as it were), the realisation of character through small details and inflections, is as good as, if not better than, the best that anybody on the silver screen has to offer.

Nonetheless, Stardust has, at its core, the heart of a masterpiece and while even the kidneys or bladder of a masterpiece can be hard to come by, I can't truthfully have any strong reservations against urging you to go see it. The film opens wide across the UK this Friday, 19th October, with previews tonight and tomorrow, the 17th and 18th. Afterwards I'm sure you'll decide for yourself to check out the original novel and that is already there, just waiting for you, in bookshops, ripely reissued to tie-in with the movie.

(As a final note, I think it's worth mentioning that Gaiman actually wrote the original novel in longhand, in fountain pen, in books - the old fashioned way. This amazing job of structuring apparently took place in his head, not on any corkboard, which makes it all the more impressive to me.)

Direct Download Links For New Beowulf Trailer

More mythic mo-cap murder and moral murkiness in medium, big and bigger standard-res and 480p, 720p and 1080p. So to speak.

In Search Of Steve Ditko

Outside of the UK, Jonathan Ross is probably best known to film ick readers for kissing Neil Gaiman, or being married to the co-screenwriter of the Stardust film. Here, however, he's probably the fourth biggest TV presenter - after Davina, Ant and Dec - and almost certainly the best. He's been running a variant on The Tonight Show for a couple of decades now, on and off, from The Last Resort in the 80s to the current Friday Night with Jonathan Ross. This later show is part of his phenomenally lucrative deal with the BBC, for whom he also presents a weekly radio show and occasional offshoots, such as Japanorama, his joyous, if indulgent, exploration of Japanese culture.

As part of the current BBC 4 comic-centric season, Ross has made a documentary with a fully self-explanatory title: In Search of Steve Ditko. It begins with a to-camera address by Ross in which he reveals just how much comic book illustrator and author Ditko means to him. Apparently, no other individual in any of the entertainment industries has ever brought Ross so much pleasure (and he gets a lot of pleasure from the entertainment industries, that much is clear).

Personally, I'm not too experienced in first hand Ditko. I know Spider-Man, of course, but I've already spent more time with the Sam Raimi incarnation than any paper version; I'd held some Dr. Strange in my hands, some Shade too, and I knew The Creeper and Mr. A by reputation. One hour with Ross and company later, and I'm not only much better informed about all of the above, I'm actively seeking some Ditko to get a better look. Any suggestions where to begin?

Before searching for Steve Ditko himself, Ross chases around Steve Ditko 'the legend', speaking to a number of his collaborators and colleagues. There's a couple of very suspenseful moments - when Ross has Stan Lee in his sights he gets him up against the ropes, on the verge of admitting for the first time ever that Ditko was in fact the co-creator of Spider-Man. I won't tell you if Ross delivers the knockout blow or not, but I promise, what happens is quite remarkable and will be quoted for years to come. I'm quite curious about Ross' attitude to Stan Lee overall - it's no doubt tempered by a nostalgia that I don't share, so maybe I'll never quite get my head around it.

One of the many interview subjects is Neil Gaiman who later joins Ross on the physical hunt for Ditko in person. It's a brief gallivant about the streets of New York culminating in another eminently quotable conclusion. I can't really spoil this either, but Ross' goal is to get Ditko to give a history-making first interview on camera and he at least sort-of succeeds.

It's great TV, and the sections on Ditko's politics are particularly engaging. Alan Moore appears throughout, which is probably enough to bolster ratings by 10% alone, and in one instance explains Ditko's influence on Watchmen - and not in terms of the artwork, but the moral dimensions (both of them) of one particular character.

As an interested, partly initiated layman this was great TV. Ross' shows about Asian cinema, for example, are much more my usual remit and play much more to my knowledge and specific focus, but this was perhaps even more interesting and every bit as entertaining.

If you're here in the UK, the show screens on Sunday 16th September at 9pm, repeated later at 12.50am, then on Thursday 20th at 12.30am (strictly Friday 21st, then, I suppose). After that, or in other locations, the LocateTV embed below will keep you informed of any time the show is going to screen again, with a fourteen day advance window.

Direct Download Links For The First Beowulf TV Spot

See a nice, short, sharp burst of new Beowulf in small, medium, large or 480p, 720p and 1080p Quicktime.

Direct Download Links For New, Red Band Beowulf Trailer

This Bewoulf trailer is apparently an internet exclusive. How come a film getting released, we hear, with a PG-13 is getting a red band trailer you might ask. No idea, I might answer. I wish I only had a clue about that.

Choose from FLV and Quicktime versions.

Direct Download Link For The Comic-Con Beowulf Teaser

This is seriously fascinating stuff. The Comic-Con trailer for Beowulf is now available in 720p Quicktime and crummy old FLV.

A lot of bad Beowulf news surfaced recently and none of the footage so far released lived up to my expectations - in CG terms at least - but I'm still hopeful that this will indeed be a great, great film.

Direct Download Link For The Beowulf Podcast

Need something to listen to on the way into work tomorrow? May I recommend the Bewoulf podcast? Download it directly or go via iTunes.

David Slade To Direct Neverwhere

Sorry about the lack of updates/minesweepers. Things are... busy.

David Slade is onboard the big screen version of Neverwhere. Neil Gaiman is to polish up his 2000 draft (which I've never read, hint hint).

I'm not crazy about Hard Candy and, so far at least, fairly sceptical about 30 Days of Night, so I'm hardly performing cartwheels over this news. On the other hand, it might mean Slade won't be able to direct another comics-related film that he's been linked to. This other film - which, no, I can't name - has such a brilliant, brilliant script I'm hoping only a brilliant, brilliant director gets the gig.

Anybody want to represent me? Come on: you and me. We can convince New Line to hand me the reins.

Direct Download Link For International Beowulf Trailer With More Material

The international trailer for Beowulf has footage not in the US cut. Enjoy.

The LA Times Talk Beowulf

Two Beowulf pictures have turned up in a new LA Times piece. I'll pop them at the bottom of the post.

[EDIT: And now better versions have turned, up so I put them even further down. These new versions seem to show Zemeckis' framing, which was quite a thrill. Thanks to all of you who mailed them over]

The LA Times discuss the film at length, though defininetly not from the viewpoint of having seen the whole thing because it's some ways from being complete. Here's a hit-list of their intriguing tidbits (not all new news, and many of the points probably not quite true, but it is nice to see them compiled) and, sadly, it isn't all good news:

- The film is "a minimum of PG-13". Honestly, the script was definitely R-rated, so I was surprised and disappointed to hear "the producer and director purged the script of foul language, used an array of blood colors ranging from crimson to green and dreamed up gravity-defying nude scenes." Gaiman misses the swearing, and says so.

- Grendels mother's feet appear like "sharp stilettos merged with bestial hooves".

- Beowulf battles Grendel in the nude but "Beowulf's naughty bits are obfuscated by random objects in the foreground", a la Austin Powers, but not for (deliberate) laughs.

- The characters age from teenagers to septugenarians, courtesy of the CG skins on their motion captured skeletons.

- Neil Gaiman said of Crispin Glover's casting: "Then we got on the subject of Crispin. Bob said he would never work with him again because he never hit his mark and didn't understand how scenes cut together. But as he went on, you could see Bob realizing that was completely irrelevant if Crispin was in a motion-capture suit covered in dots, every move recorded."

- Oh, and mentioned here only as a curiosity, we learn that Ray Winstone's character in Indiana Jones IV is called Mac.

Movie Minesweeper - The Red Rubber Jacket Report Edition

The Dardenne Bros., Luka Moodysson, Neil Gaiman, Step Up 2 the Streets, The Bell Jar, Watchmen, Star Trek, Southland Tales, Alfonso Cuaron, Naomi Watts, Joseph Fiennes, Harry Potter 6, The De2cent.

- Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne are receiving the funds for their next film from the Eurimages pot. Le Silence de Lorna revolves around the arranged marriage between an Albanian immigrant and a junkie. Eurimages have also coughed up a wad for Mammoth, Lukas Moodysson's next, an English-language film and, hopefully, a return to form.

- The Hollywood Reporter have had a good chat with Neil Gaiman.

- MySpace users and abusers might win a dance-on part in Step Up 2 the Streets.

- Julia Stiles talks The Bell Jar in her recent interview with MTV.

- Patrick Wilson has been confirmed for Watchmen, Zachary Quinto for Star Trek.

- Richard Kelly will be signing Southland Tales posters at Comic-Con. We can expect the trailer in mid-August, and a release date soon. I expect September.

- Alfonso Cuaron has had quite a dull week.

- It's been months since I first suggested Naomi Watts would be in Harry Potter 6, but it now seems that Joseph Fiennes has signed on too.

- The Descent sequel is to be called... drum roll please... The De2cent.

Eye To Eye With Beowulf

You might recall the big heap of Beowulf images I posted here at film ick. They originally appeared online at Aint it Cool and, after they were quickly pushed into pulling them down, I hosted them for a week or so, until the legal quagmire got too deep. Until now, they were probably the best idea I had of how the film was shaping up. The billboard images from last week added a little too - including our first look at Grendel.

Just now, though, I've been reading Roger Avary and Neil Gaiman's script (excitingly, the script bears the name of the cast member it belonged to, but I won't reveal who in case they get into trouble) and I'm even more excited for the film than I already had been. And you probably already know I'm absolutely nuts for Zemeckis and Gaiman, not to mention 3D cinema.

Simply put, this script exceeded my every expectation. Not only is it a lean, vicious retelling of the story, but as it whips along it drips evocative images from every paragraph.

Be wary of spoilers as you read on...

So, here's a little from the opening to whet your appetite. We begin in Herot, the greatest mead hall in all the land as a rowdy crowd of thanes celebrate their victories. Hrothgar, "as fat a King as you are ever likely to see", is carried in on his portable throne, "draped in nothing more than haphazardly wrapped bed linen as if he just came from f*cking". He beats on his chest to be put down, and then proceeds to hand out treasures.

His first award is for Unferth his "wisest advisor, violator of virgins and boldest of brave brawlers" - but Unferth is busy at the 'p*ss pit' asking "So, if Christ Jesus and Odin got into a fight, who do you think would win?"

This raucous party, half drunken orgy, half celebratory ceremony is quickly cut short:

Suddenly THE GREAT DOOR EXPLODES as if something of tremendous force rammed into it, splintering the wooden frame and buckling the great iron hinges... but the door holds.

HROTHGAR'S eyes go from sleepily closed to wide as saucers. PEOPLE start sitting up, worried. Warriors reach for their swords and kinves and spears.

There is a pause. A BEAT OF SILENCE which goes on almost longer than we can bear and then...

There is a second EXPLOSIVE RAM to the frame of the massive door, breaking it free from its hinges and causing the wood to splinter.

For a brief moment, we see the SHADOW OF A MONSTER from behind the broken door.

Then it enters. Candles snuff out with the cold wind that accompanies it. HROTHGAR rises in his seat, terrified.

HROTHGAR
My sword! My sword!

Unferth and Aesher draw thier weapons. The horror on their faces hints to us the nature of the monster which has erupted into the mead hall. They stand frozen in astonishment.

THE GREAT FIREPIT suddenly ROARS larger and wilder than before, consuming the spit and pig in its flame. What was once a warm source of heat suddenly becomes dangerous and ominous.

We see the MONSTERS SHADOWS cast onto the heavy stone wall of the hall by the golden light of the firepit. It isn't just one shadow, it's many shadows overlapping eachother, dancing wildly together to composite a figure of massive size. The interloping shadows overtake the SHADOW OF A THANE... it lunges forward and lifts him up above it's head... there's a HORRIFYING RIPPING SOUND and the shadow thane is suddenly two shadows, a pair of legs and an upper torso.

And the destruction continues, until Hrothgar confronts the monster. It flees, still semmingly unafraid, just somehow done here. Hrothgar identifies the monster as Grendel.

Next:

GRENDEL, silhouetted by the cool light of the full moon, shambles into his lair - a cave mouth inside of which there
is a placid pool of clear water. He is dragging the bodies of TWO DEAD WARRIORS into the cavern.

Grendel drops the bodies of the dead warriors into a corner f the cave where the bones of mean, both bleached and fleshy, litter the floor. It is a strange and unnverving place.

A mask is dropped onto the floor. A mask constructed from the skulls of two baby whales and decorated with bits of human hair and bones... painted with mud. From its size we can imagine that Grendel likes to wear it.

Someone else is there...

GRENDEL'S MOTHER is sitting a little way away, in the shadows near the cave pool and swathed in a dark cloth. What we can see of her skin glitters, like gold.

Grendel's mother's VOICE is melodious and young.

GRENDEL'S MOTHER
Grendel? What have you done?

Grendel turns suddenly, surprised by her voice - like a boy who has been caught masturbating.

GRENDEL
Moth-er? Where are you?

GRENDEL'S MOTHER
Men? Grendel, we had an agreement. Fish and wolves and bear and sometimes a sheep or two. but not men.

GRENDEL
You like men.

GRENDEL'S MOTHER
These men are too fragile, Grendel. They do me little good. And you must be more crafty. Bring them to me alive, at least... with their seed intact. You see, they will hurt us if they can. They have killed so many of us, the Giant-breed, the Dragon-kind.

As you can see, Gaiman's up to his usual tricks with folklore in the greater context - Dragons alongside Giants alongside Grendel.

Months later, Grendel attacks again. Hrothgar despairs:

HROTHGAR
When I was young, I killed a dragon, in the Northern Moors. But I'm too old for dragon-slaying now. We need a hero, a Siegfried, to rid us of this curse upon our hall.

UNFERTH
I say we trap the beast. Brute strength fails against such a brute. Let us use cunning.

HROTHGAR
These creatures know cunnng, Unferth. They are cunning.

UNFERTH
Our people wait for deliverance, my King. Some of them pray to the Christ Jesus to lift this affliction. Other sacrifice goats or sheep to Odin or Heimdall.

They need a hero and, of course, that's where Beowulf comes in. He journeys across a tempestuous sea to find Hrothgar, and to pledge to kill Grendel.

After his first meeting with the King, they immediately spark up a banquet in Herot, knowing it will lure the monster in...

This first confrontation occurs around the fourty five minutes mark - so you know it won't be the last. But it is fought as though it is. Bloody, relentless and absolutely without restraint they set about each other with everything they have, and anything they can grab. Smashing, punching, headbutting, kicking, biting, slashing, throttling... the repeating, resounding slam of viscera on viscera again and again and again.

There is no out-and-out victor this time, but one side does far more than draw first blood and the stakes are set even higher for their future confrontations.

What we have, in essence, is a bloody, sweaty dragonslaying story but at full scale, visually and narratively. The mythology is suitably epic, the images make the saga resonate at every turn, the ideas are teased out subtly, exposing the depth of the story in ways that, perhaps, we care about far more than most of the poem's original audiences would ever have even dreamt of. This is the Beowulf that makes sense for a 21st Century audience without perverting or denying the truth of the original tale.

A few years back, Zemeckis had recruited Gaiman to write another screenplay for him, adapted from Nicholson Baker's The Fermata. Like the original book, that script full of upfront sexuality and featured a protagonist of dubious morality, to say the least. Zemeckis was looking to make a resolutely adult film, away from the all-ages fare he was best known for. He just has: Beowulf will satisfy that desire also, without a doubt.

As such, I think Beowulf might be quite a hard sell to casual audiences - a motion capture film, released widely in 3D is something we might assume to be family fare, not a lusty, grimy epic. Another marketing problem might be that the characters' outlooks are also a little alien, in some respects, though truly universal in most. I don't the numerous references to incest will help much either.

Where I have no doubt it wil succeed, however, is with critics and movie lovers. This is the bareknuckle version of The Lord of the Rings and I think people will honestly be knocked onto their behinds. On the page, it is hard, fast and perfectly under control and with Zemeckis in charge, I think we can expect a bullseye that splits the target.

On page 110 of the script, Gaiman and Avery have noted 'We are utterly convinced of it: this is where our budget is going'. They've certainly got a point - though I won't tell you just what incredible, but hellish, spectacle they have invented. But I might note on every page 'this bit won't be cheap either' - and that, I suppose, is one of the amazing assets of the performance capture technique. Fashinoning an epic battle between man and winged beast above the moors (just for example - hint hint) would take, relatively speaking, little more resource than creating a small, intimate scene in the King's chamber. In making Beowulf in this fashion, Gaiman, Avary and Zemeckis have been able to imagine whatever it was they wanted, knowing that their only limitation was the vision of Zemeckis, the cast and crew - and if you ask me, that's no kind of limitation at all.

Bewoulf opens in the US in November. Go see it.

All The Hellboy 2 You Can Handle (For One Night, Anyway)

Hellboy 2 is currently filming in and around Budapest - as any Maddy Gaiman fan will tell you. I've had the good fortune to be able to read a copy of the script and, putting that together with the on-set snaps that have appeared so far, and the little bits and pieces to have popped up in the news, I'm getting quite a clear idea of how this one is going. This post might have some failry heavy spoilers in it, so go forward carefully.

Neil Gaiman has been shadowing Guillermo del Toro on this set, to get pointers for when he directs Death and Me later this year (why not remind yourself of my script review of that one?) and, really, the plan seems perfect. This is quite easily the most Gaimanesque of Del Toro's projects, he'll understand just what's going on, probably be able to look past the specifics, which will seem so natural to him, and see how Guillermo handles this kind of material.

The script picks up with a dazzling magical robbery at an auction house. The film's chief villain is a scheming elven prince, in this scene shown as just a 'shadowy figure'. He's after a piece of an ancient Crown and has some amazing tricks to help him nab it:

A darkened corridor where other STEWARDS wheel auction lots to and from a sales room.

The STEWARD notices an open window at the end of the corridor. He leans out and looks down. Ten stories below - a snow-covered alley.

Suddenly, he sees the SHADOWY FIGURE above the window frame, clinging to the smooth granite wall!

STEWARD
What the h-

Quick as lightning, the SHADOWY FIGURE covers the steward's mouth. When he withdraws his hand, the steward's mouth has VANISHED!

The Shadowy figure grabs the hapless man by the lapels, hauling him outside and dangling him over the void.

Far below: a spiked wrought-iron fence.

The Prince has enlisted some rather creepy creatures to help him out with this crown heist - a thuggish Troll called Wink, eight foot tall and "with grey skin and a huge scar over his left, empty, eye socket. His right hand is missing and he sports a heavy iron mace instead"; and a horde of horrible, scrabbling, flesh-gnawing... well, I won't spoil the surprise. But they are famous creatures of folklore given a new, sinister spin. And they like to feed on calcium. Brrrrr.

This huge army of tiny terrors create chaos, and while the BPRD arrive at the auction house after the Prince appears to have fled, they still have a lot of havoc to control. Their personal spin master Tom Manning is in too, to try and shield them, to force a positive media profile and to keep Hellboy, Abe and Liz top secret.

The twist this time is... he fails completely. Liz goes absolutely supernova - quite necessarily - but the resulting explosion blows Hellboy flying through the air:

Like a cannonball, HB flies out of the upper floor window.

A ball of flame, he arcs downward.

Below, the onlookers scatter as the massive Red Giant lands in their midst, cracking the pavement.

Liz and Abe go to the window and look down. A TV CAMERA LENS ZOOMS IN ON THEM BOTH.

Liz (into her radio)
HB? HB?? Are you alright?

The scene ends with:

Manning hurries forward, witness to his worst nightmare. A sea of camera flashes explodes on a grinning Hellboy.

And the opening credits roll...

This plot this time picks up with Liz and Hellboy deep into a relationship. In fact, as we're introduced to them, they're in the middle of a superpowered domestic disupute. Like last time, their romance is a key strand to the film, if not, indeed, its heart. And it definitely provides a very sweet conclusion (which some might see as a cliffhanger).

Threaded in with that twine of plot are two more spinning directly out of this opening sequence: the Elven Prince has an epic, deadly plan that will spell disaster for the human world; the public become aware of the BPRD and their 'freaks'; and a third that doesn't so much: ectoplasmic man Johan Krauss becomes the new head of the BPRD field team. Kraus is brilliantly conceived and portrayed - he's like a movie adaptation of something from Nintendo's Geist game and gets some brilliant moments in the action set-pieces as well as many crackling verbal confrontations with Hellboy.

Along the way, we meet the Elven Princess, who shares a link with her twin brother that verges on all that Skeksis/Mystic business; Abe Sapien falls in love enough to start listening to Barry Manilow records; there's a massive, massive, massive (think Ghostbusters... or even Ghostbusters 2) confrontation with a tree elemental on the streets of New York; Hellboy ruins a Bowling Alley; a very Gaimanesque (there's that silly word again) expedition occurs to a secret Troll Market; Del Toro proves several more times just how much of a clockwork fetishist he is; the Tonight Show turns nasty; and there's a dragon on the loose in Russia, an army coming to life in Ireland and a very strikingly described Angel of Death.

Here's the biggest spoiler material maybe, so be warned once more: there are brief cameos for two deceased characters from the first film. Professor Broom appears in an origin flashback for Johan Krauss, while a post-credits sequence (legal issues permitting - this film is coming from a different studio) will resurrect Kroenen, apparently in set-up for a third chapter.

All of this is to say, frankly, there's so much incident packed into this episode that any issues you may have had with the first film's pacing will surely be forgotten. This is a bigger story, on a more epic canvas, but the intimate, intense heart still beats bright red.

I think Hellboy 2 stands every chance of being far, far better than the first film - which, to be clear, I loved, particularly in its longer cut. The same character abounds, despite the upshift in scale, and the essential elements are all intact. I contemplated giving you some of Hellboy's best wisecracks - his insults and cruel names for Johann Kraus are often laugh out loud funny on the page - but there's no way the typed word will do them justice the way Ron Perlman will.

This is what adventure films should be like and, perversely, Neil Gaiman is really the last filmmaker who needs to be taking notes.

[EDIT: And (spoiler alert still standing) how did I forget to mention that the very explicit homage to American Werewolf in London is followed directly by a tribute to Q, The Winged Serpent? It was one of the sweetest moments in the whole script]

Seems Like We Know How Beowulf Is Going To Begin

TheBeat are reporting that IDW will be publishing a Beowulf comic book adaptation, and published the first page which you can see below. It seems to suggest how the film will begin, don't you think? I'm actually really excited by this sort-of-glimpse-type-hint.

Chris Ryall will write, Gabriel Rodriguez will... er... art.

Neil Gaiman And Michael Reeves' Interworld Coming To Dreamworks

In between 1996 and 98, Michael Reeves and Neil Gaiman pitched a film around the studios called Interworld. According to Gaiman, their first port of call was Dreamworks. Nobody took the chance, however, so as 98 became 99, Gaiman and Reeves turned their treatment into a novel.

The full story of what happened next is up at Gaiman's blog - but the punchline, I'll tell you now.

Dreamworks have just optioned the novel with an eye to turn it into a feature film - an animated feature film so, according to Dreamworks policy, it will be in 3D. Hurrah.

Well, they took their time but they got there eventually. Why anything and everything with Gaiman involved wasn't being snapped up as late as 1999 I'll never guess.

Gaiman Gabs

There's an interview over at Aint It Cool in which Neil Gaiman discusses all of the many upcoming movies he's involved in. Interestingly, he reveals that Matthew Vaughan was originally only to produce Stardust, with Terry Gilliam directing. Gilliam turned it down at the time, apparently as he'd recently completed Brothers Grimm and needed a different tone, a completely different world to step into.

Gaiman also mentions me, of all people, though not by name:

My jaw dropped recently when I discovered that a version of the script (for Death) that I had done for budgeting purposes… somebody had gotten a hold of it and was reviewing it online and it was never actually meant to be… because it was originally set in New York and we were looking at it like “How would it work if we moved it to London?” and we needed to budget it for London, so I did an incredibly quick (draft)… you know the kind of draft where you actually fail to notice Crater Park becomes Central Park and goes back a few times.

That kind of thing, but it was really a “OK, let’s just spit on its face and move it to London…” and then someone was reviewing that… it was like “No…” It was to see what kind of numbers we came up with. But I’m really very hopeful. What’s nice, I think, with Death is it sort of seems to be… well everything is moving in the right direction for it and that leaves me happier.

Nows, as I said in the review, the localisation changes were quite superficial, and the actual meat and bones of the script wouldn't have been changed at all, so I know that the pages I read were quite indicative of the film - or at least as currently planned. There could well be another draft, but that would be quite separate of any localisation issues.

I'm also quite sure that the shoot is still planned for London, later this year.

Read the full interview. It really is packed with interesting stuff.

Script Review: Death And Me By Neil Gaiman

This story doesn't really begin on Saturday, May 26th 2007 but if we pick up there, it will seems like a beginning and you can fathom out all of the years of beforehands for yourself.

I wrote a post for film ick called Want To Know Who Is Going To Play Neil Gaiman's Death? Don't We All and in it I said "Later this year - if all goes well - Neil Gaiman will be directing his first feature film. It's an adaptation of his Death: The High Cost of Living mini-series, and - of course - he's scripted it" and also "I really want to read this one - the original comic is one of my very few favourites, as was true of We3 and you know how head-over-heels I ended up with that screenplay adaptation. If anybody out there has a copy, you know where to send it".

And somebody did send it. And I read it. And now I'm going to tell you about it.

What I have appears to be a draft designed to relocate the story from New York to London. There's still the odd reference to Central Park or Manhattan amongst the mentions of Baker Street and 'the muddy expanse of the Thames'. In fact, Hyde Park gets called Central Park at one point (or, I suppose, vice versa).

But not all of the film takes place in this one big city, however. In fact, the first two scenes take place far, far away.

We open in a Tibetan Monestary. We're told it is January. While a narrator gives us a little exposition, we see monks roll up a scroll, and on this scroll is "a dark haired girl with an ankh around her neck". That's the whole scene - a croll being rolled by Tibetan Monks, an announcement that it is January and exposition delivered in voice over. What's more, this is the only scene with a narrator.

This isn't the best of beginnings. This first scene is entirely made of exposition and, I would hope, on screen, atmosphere. If it wasn't so early and so brief and, as a result of this so easy to file away and only remember much later when you're reminded of it, it would seem quite shockingly redundant.

If I reproduce it here, however, it will be very useful in getting the premise of the film across, so I will. But I really don't think the script needs some kind of upfront explanation at all, much less one so blatant. It reminds me, in a way, of the opening narration to Dark City which virtually undermines the entire third act of the film. Here it is:

They say that once every hundred years she takes on human form, the better to understand what the lives she takes must feel like, to know the bitter taste of mortality. And this is a price she must pay for being the divider of all that has lived from all that must come after.

...But on to the second scene, and the second location. There's more exposition (of course there is, we're so early in the story) yet this time it's delivered in a much more suitable, and cinematic fashion and it feels much more like a real story, not like the set-up for one, or the blurb on the back of a book, or the hype for a TV show in the Radio Times.

It's February this time, and we're in Alaska. I'll let Neil Gaiman himself introduce the first of our main characters:

A man we will come to know as THE EREMITE comes stumbling toward us, through the snow, through the blizzard. He is dressed in rags and tatters, no longer young, and -- although we will not see this immediately, quite blind. A mane of leonine hair, he hasn’t shaved for a week, and he could be an Old Testament prophet coming out of the wilderness. He is singing to himself, loudly, over the sound of howl of the wind. The wind is such that he can barely keep on his feet.

He reaches a town sign stuck in the ground: WELCOME TO NOWHERE, Pop 63. His hand touches it, and he holds on to it fr a moment, getting his breath back. Then he walks on, leaving a bloody handprint on the sign.

We see the town as he would see it if he could see: a bar and grill is the only source of life, with company housing around it. Big, mean SUVs and snowmobiles in the parking lot, along with one 18-wheeler rig.

(I can tell you, I found the typos oddly comforting)

The Eremite is looking to get to London, and he asks the patrons of the bar for a ride. Yep - all the way to London. Obviously, nobody seems too keen. I think I spotted another insufficiently localised line in the script here too:

WORKER #1
And London’s thousands of miles away!

New York is thousands of miles away. Wouldn't London be... er... "on the other side of the world" or something like that?

Our introduction to The Eremite is a very telling one, a darkly funny one and, ultimately, a surprising one. It seems like he's doing a really bad job of convincing the patrons to chauffeur him half way round the world - peeing on the bar
probably didn't help - but, ultimately he gets his way and everybody else gets a nasty shock.

It's not until the third scene (London in April) that we're into material familiar from the original comics. Perhaps the most interesting about that however, is how scene two seems like it completely and utterly belongs. Indeed, almost all of the new material seems like it should have been there all along. Instead of the story seeming expanded upon or spread out, what we have seems like the full, original version of events and the comics were simply a digest. Indeed, it's entirely possible that this is not a job of expansion, but repairs, returning the story to an originally conceived outline. Or, on the other hand, Gaiman might simply be a genius for creating new material on an old framework.

Anway... London in April, under the underpass. This is where we meet the next of our major characters. Again, Neil can do the introductions:

Filthy hands are shuffling an even filthier pack of cards. Now they deal. It’s a dog-eared spread of cards, face down. The hands belong to MAD HETTIE. A finger runs over the cards, back and forth. She’s looking for one card.

MAD HETTIE (O.S.)
Up she goes and down she goes and where she stops nobody knows.

The finger picks a card, and turns it over. It’s the Death card -- the Queen of Spades. She hisses. She shuffles it back into the pack, muttering to herself. Turns over another card. It’s the Queen of Spades again. She fans it back into the pack -- we can see there are lots of different cards. She shuffles once more, turns over one more card, and, yes, for the third time, she pulls out the Queen of Spades.

We pull back now, to reveal Mad Hettie. Her age is hard to tell beneath the layers of grime and street dirt. She lives on the streets. She sits by a small fire. She wears an aged hat with an artificial flower in it at a jaunty angle. She is muttering to herself.

MAD HETTIE
Three times. Three times is the charm. Three times a lady. Lady, baby, gypsy, thief... Queen of Spades, we know what you mean. Oh yes. Now what about one for me, eh? What about a card for Mad Hettie?

She flicks a card out of the deck. Then she turns it over. It’s the ace of hearts. A smile spreads over her face.

MAD HETTIE
There we go. A heart. My one little heart. I knew it. Everythingoin’ to be loverly!

And now we've met two of our four leads. These are the two who admit that they want something - really want it - and will go to great lengths to get it.

If I were to recommend casting, simply off the top of my head, I'd offer Bill Nighy and Miriam Margolyes.

Let's skip forward a bit, to June, and introduce the leading lady in all of this. Again, over to Mr. Gaiman:

DIDI is asleep. She wears an oversized black tee shirt as a nightdress. Her hair is long and dark. Even in sleep, she is heart-stoppingly beautiful. She’s in a one bedroom apartment decorated fairly plainly, as if on a real budget. There’s a bowl of goldfish in one corner.

An alarm clock shrills, and Didi’s eyes open wide. Then she smiles...

And she starts to EXAMINE HERSELF, looking at her hands in wonder, as if she’s not had hands -- or a face, or a nose -- in a long time. She is utterly delighted with what she sees. Then she stretches like a cat.

DIDI
Yes!

She gets out of bed. She JUMPS a few inches, experimentally. She sticks out her tongue at herself in the mirror. She’s acting like someone who hasn’t had a living, breathing body for a hundred years or so, and has forgotten what it felt like.

She walks over to the window and looks outside. The sun is in her eyes. She looks happy. And then, for a moment, she looks puzzled and concerned -- then her gaze lights on a silver ANKH. She picks it up, and it CATCHES THE SUNLIGHT.

She looks at a clock.

DIDI (to herself)
Going to be a busy day.

Then she picks up the ankh and puts it around her neck.

If you're not familair with the comics, let me explain what viewers soon come to learn about Didi. Either she is the mortal personification of Death - a somewhat perkier version than the dusty guy with the scythe - or she is a teenage girl that lost her entire family in a tragic accident rather recently. Or - and this is the answer, I believe, if you can get your head around it - she's both. The universe has accomodated this day on earth for Death by just sort of shifting around a little and creating Didi, her dead family, her entire history. Not entirely unlike how Dawn just sort of came to be in Buffy, I suppose.

Didi is the character who can give The Eremite and Mad Hettie each what they are looking for, and as a result, they are making their ways to see her in New Yo... sorry, London.

The character who doesn't admit he's looking for something is our male lead - the Me of the new Death and Me title. The thing he doesn't admit he's looking for is something Didi can, and will, give him too.

Here's his introduction, and into the bargain, the intro of a supporting character too:

SEXTON FURNIVAL is at high school. He needs a haircut.

He has holes in the knees of his jeans because he likes them there. He’s unlocking his locker... And someone is shouting... and charging down the corridor at him.

THEO
Sex Bomb! Sex BOMBBB! SEXXXX BOOMMBBBBBBBBBBB!

Sexton closes his eyes as someone (THEO) crashes into him, sending him sprawling, painfully, against the lockers. Sexton looks up at Theo -- tall, cool, attractive, nasty.

That's Sexton (Me) and Theo (not Me). A few pages later, Sexton gives us a better idea of who he is by firing up his camcorder and recording a video diary in his bedroom. This is going to be the last big excerpt, but it is a big one, so hold tight:

He gets into a pose, so he can see himself on the miniscreen, and he starts to talk.

SEXTON
Okay. My name is Sexton Furnival but I’m pretty much over it by now, and this is the last ever installment of my video diary. This is because... (pause) Okay. I figure, I’m mature enough to know what I think. I’m seventeen. Almost seventeen and a half. And what do I have to show for it? For a start I’ve got nobody to love. Which is fine. I think love is bullshit anyway. I think the best that people ever get is horny and scared. And when they find someone who makes them horny and they’re sacred of losing them, they call it love.

Now he picks up the video camera, and points it at the mirror as he talks. Then he starts to swivel, so he is slowly taking in his room, his crumpled bedding, his books (big, solid, depressing things), finally a photo of Sexton and his parents taken when he was ten and they were all one big happy family. A guitar gathering dust.

SEXTON (cont’d)
Now, you may not think this is very interesting, or a good reason for checking out early, or whatever. But you’re wrong. Because there’s no point to anything. And if there’s no point, it’s probably easier being dead. And it’s not like anyone’s going to give two shits if I’m here or not.

He turns off the camera for a moment. Takes a deep breath. Turns over the photo, so he doesn’t have to look at it. Turns the camera back on.

SEXTON (cont’d)
Look, Sylvia, when you see this, I’m really not saying you’ve been a bad mother. But I’m not saying you’ve been a particularly good one, either. Let’s leave it at that. And Steve, it’s not your fault, either. I mean, you’re an arsehole, but that’s probably just part of being a lawyer. I Read somewhere that a suicide note is actually a cry for help. Well, this is a suicide note, but it’s not a cry for help. This is a statement of belief. Or of disbelief, because there’s nothing in the way of adult bullshit I do believe.

There’s a KNOCKING on the door. The door opens, and SYLVIA, Sexton’s mother, leans in. She’s an ex-hippie who owns a restaurant.

He turns the camera so that it’s filming her, now.

SYLVIA
Darling. Everything okay?
SEXTON Hi Mum. Everything’s fine. Shouldn’t you be at the restaurant by now?

SYLVIA
It’s Marlon’s first day as Permanent Chef, and I thought I’d stay out of the way. What are you doing?

SEXTON
Homework.

SYLVIA
You want anything? Herbal tea or anything?

SEXTON
Nope.

Sylvia closes the door. Sexton turns the camera lens back to him and says...

SEXTON (cont’d)
That’s the other thing. I don’t want anything. So I might as well be dead. Right?

So that's Sexton Furnival. He's going to meet Didi really soon - before she bumps into either The Eremite, or Mad Hettie, and when they do turn up and start messing with her day, he's quickly caught up in it all.

The first scene featured voice over narration, and there's only one other incident of voice over in the entire script. Sadly, it's as much of a mistake - if not more.

The voice over this time is attributed to Sexton, and it reproduces one of the more popular and oft-quoted pieces of the book. On paper there's several reasons it works well - the sudden introduction of an interior monologue in any written medium is much less extreme than in a film, for one thing, but for another, the lengthy piece of text can sit alongside an image representing only a short period of action. In the film, to give Sexton time to finish his thoughts while he's running down the stairs, Gaiman's going to need a lot of stairs. A lot.

I'd like to see this voice over, vanish, I'm afraid. Some slow-motion or a flashback wouldn't really work, either (a surprise is about to come and playing with pacing with either of those techniques could derail it a little). All I can think of by way of solution, in fact, is to turn the piece into dialogue, adapt it a little, and have Sexton deliver it to Didi the next time they talk, to let her know what he was feeling as he left on that day.

And there you go: I just caught myself offering advice to Neil Gaiman. This makes me feel awkward and a little embarrassed.

Okay, back to the monks. The Tibetan monks from the first scene. They do reappear again. What happens when they do does make sense, and it does sort of turn out to be a good gag. But (here I go again) their whole throughline seems a little thin. They're set-up at the top, almost as a backdrop to spoken exposition that I'm not happy with anyway, then later, they just sort of pop up, be part of a "What a weird day!" running gag, touch on an idea about what Didi is and does, and then they're gone.

Now... if they somehow appeared again, that'd be useful. They must have some place they can go, or something they can do, that will be more centrally relevant somehow? It would certainly ensure nobody saw them as just a device.

Another sequence that seems to need a little rethink, I'd say, takes place in a club. The scene is largely unchanged from the printed original and that seems to be the root of the problem.

I think it comes down to pacing, and possibly because ripping through a comic at top speed means that any slight variants in pacing are less noticable, the scene as reproduced here feels a little hard to swallow. Essentially, a character we've only briefly glimpsed before is accelerated to the front and centre of stage, and given a spotlight to tell her story. This is Jackie, and to me, she really doesn't feel "ready".

I think the scene in the club needs some expansion, just a little, to give Jackie some more time to settle. And the conversation she's having needs to have run a little longer to make her seem more sypmpathetic when she opens her heart up (guarded though she is).

I think that the solution is to get her conversation with Sexton rolling, then move time on a little. Come back to the club a short while later. Perhaps they don't talk so much in the mssing scene, perhaps they do. Just give the impression that they've had a bit more time to get to know one another.

Or maybe it's just me. I don't know. It's an important scene, and a relatively late one, and it contains quite a big reveal, so I won't reproduce it here.

My final problem concerns a scene with a ventriloquist's dummy and a police uniform that seems too banal - almost like something from an episode of a TV police procedural or a post-Silence of the Lambs serial killer film. Gaiman's world is more magical than this scene, and more idiosyncratic, and this suddenly felt like something... else.

And, truth be told, those are the only major issues I had with the screenplay all.

Gaiman's umpteenth representation of a magical underworld is as mesmerising and resonant as all of his others, from the strange rituals to the odd names and the curious characters to the odd deals. And like every one of his underworlds, it's satisfyingly different from all of the others. Knowing that he's directing is great too: he gets all of these things in a way that hardly any film directors ever have, and he's always been dedicated to making the audience, his readers, get what they want - even if, like Sexton, they won't admit to wanting anything at all to begin with.

This is a satisfyingly story-shaped story, with a great (belated) beginning, a fun, funny, wonderful and engaging middle and a true, fair and inevitable conclusion. I see no reason why Death and Me shouldn't be a bonafide smash. My years of anticipation have been quenched.

That's my review but... more later. Non-review things. There's a lot to say about this one.

Movie Minesweeper - The Lucky Boy Edition

Remember how I was talking about Neil Gaiman's Death film last week? And I wished for a copy of the script? Well, I got my wish. I've just finished reading it. And while it percolates a little, I'm going to share another Movie Minesweeper links list with you, and then I'll write a review. For me at least, it's all very exciting.

Here are your links.

- Mark Millar has seen the Steve Ditko documentary produced, written and presented by Jonathan Ross. He's called it his favourite documentary ever.

- Howard Stern only last week turned down a brief voice role in the Transformers movie. Quite a fun casting idea, actually - think for a second and you'll know just which robot they wanted him for. His agent's advice on why he shouldn't take the role was seriously flawed. And now we'll probably be left with Opie. Or Anthony.

- Several signed Hostel 2 posters are being auctioned off for charity. I found the link at DreadCentral.

- Michael Bacall has been hired to write the fiction version of Seth Gordon's King of Kong. He's also writing the Scott Pilgrim script for Edgar Wright - or at least he was. Must like his retrogaming, that boy.

- Russell Crowe is to produce - but not appear - in Dolce's Inferno, a fairly standard seeming romantic comedy. According to Variety, "The contemporary romantic comedy concerns a hardnosed L.A. gossip columnist who falls in love and watches his world spin out of control".

- Daniel Craig dropped out of Blindness, now Mark Rufallo is stepping in.

- Variety have quoted Garth Jennings and Nick Goldsmith at the BAM screening of Son of Rambow. Jennings: All the technical, clever stuff, that is actually from the clever people I asked to do it. I have no idea how it works; Goldsmith: There's 1,400 people here tonight. Can you imagine if we got a bad response? Of course, they did not get a bad response. Son of Rambow is a great, great film - certainly the best I've seen so far this year.

- Eli Roth has a very, very, very big penis. But it's fake.

- The NY Times are weighing up the chances of four potential Sammy Davis Jr. biopics.

- Patrick Stewart is talking up his collaboration with John Logan on a modern-day Merchant of Venice.

- Nikki Finke (unknowingly?) pays tribute to Ray Dennis Steckler in a headline.

- A completely CG trailer for Kit Kittredge: An American Girl Mystery is already online. Download it now.

- A list of films and TV shows set to be hyped at Comic-Con this year has been unveiled. Beowulf, Hellboy 2, Stardust, Sweeney Todd, American Gangster, Where the Wild Things Are, Trick'r Treat and The Strangers are the film ick faves on show.

- Another behind the scene clip from The Golden Compass has shown up.

- Brian Helgeland is doing a rewrite of Nottingham.

- David Poland was appalled by Hostel 2 too.

- Working Title have optioned the documentary Young@Heart with the intent to turn it into a feature film. Basically, it's about a rock group composed of pensioners, something a bit like The Zimmers.

- The trailer for Triangle is online now. I found the link at Twitch.

Now, just a couple of more detailed posts and onto Death. So to speak.

Movie Minesweeper - The Wedding Daze Is A Crime Against Cinema Edition

A really, realy short round up this time. Just four seperate pieces. Savour every one.

- The latest video for Faithless is not only a commercial for the band and the song, but also for Coca Cola. The visuals are much better than the audio. Feed have the clip, as well as some behind-the-scenes business.

- Neil Gaiman himself has commented on the Death story I got re-rolling last weekend.

- Criss Angel is designing the magic tricks for the Mandrake movie.

- Goldfinger is to be rereleased across the UK this summer - entirely in digital screens. Hopefully they'll have done a good job with the mastering because this will pull in a lot of customers yet to see a digitally projected film.

Movie Minesweeper - The Fingers On The Button Round Edition

I'm in a real hurry. This will have to be quick

- Pics from I Sell the Dead are up at Aint it Cool.

- Cartoon Brew have some details of, and a clip from, Pingwings - the holy grail of British kids' TV. There's a must-buy DVD if ever there was one.

- Collider think an I am Legend trailer is to roll out with Ocean's 13.

- That thing about Shia LaBeouf and Neil Gaiman's Death really wasn't news, you know. We've known since September 2005 that Shia was eyeing the role, I was just reminding you all. He's mentioned it several times in the meantime. The new news was the bit about shooting taking place later this year, and in the UK. And it would be really big news if I could tell you will be playing Didi/Death. But I can't.

- Dennis Iliadis is to direct the remake of Last House on the Left. That probably doesn't tell us anything.

- Some Iron Man on-set footage aired on ET and found its way online.

- Thomas Schlamme is to direct the American Life on Mars remake.

- Iranian officials have declared the jury prize for Persepolis 'Islamophobic'.

- A stage version of All About My Mother is to premiere at The Old Vic later this year. The theatre is also planning a Stephen Fry-penned version of Cinderella for Christmas.