nicka-11

I saw this film initially when I was about six or seven years old and have seen it several times since. Of all the films I saw during my early childhood, none captivated me as much as Watership Down. I am now twenty eight years old and, despite the violence and sadness of the film, I have somehow turned out to be a fairly normal bloke rather than a murderer or manic depressive. Funny that.

It is a complete fallacy to suggest that we must shield our children from anything that hints of the injustices that may exist in the real world. In fact, seeing a film such as this may help them in dealing with issues in their own lives or perhaps teach them lessons in understanding and appreciation of the world around them. Watership Down had that effect on me.

Ouch. This film irritated me so much I was in tortuous pain by the end of it. I only really have one reason for despising this film, but this reason is so monumental in its power that it caused me to spend much of the film writhing around on the carpet in agonising spasms, spasms from which I am only just beginning to recover. The reason ladies and gentlemen, is terrible child acting.

The three kids, in particular the girl, are guilty of some of the most trite, sickly sweet overacting ever seen on the silver screen. They reminded me of primary school plays where the most precocious kids in the class are given the leading roles rather than those with any semblance of charisma or acting ability. They somehow fail in portraying any tangible or believable emotion whatsoever. They do however succeed in over-pronouncing every single letter of every syllable of every word as if the Lord of Language himself (possibly Stephen Fry) were watching over them ready to strike them down in the event of a missing 't' in sweet or a missing 'g' in bloody annoying. It is the cinematic equivalent of Maria Carey warbling up and down through every conceivable note in order to try and prove that she can sing; but in doing so exhibiting a pretentiousness that has no place on this earth.

My unofficial award for worst acting performance is currently held by the actor who played young Anakin Skywalker in The Phantom Menace, but these three run him very close indeed.

Someday I will get around to reviewing the film's plot and characters but only when the agony and nausea are fully extinguished from my limbs and I can once again look out upon the world with the asceticism and joyful exuberance that have become my trademark. Good day.

Having enjoyed Pulp Fiction, Reservoir Dogs and Jackie Brown, I really looked forward to seeing this film. To say that I was disappointed with it is the understatement of the year.

The main reasons I loved Tarantino's previous efforts are the fast moving story-lines, the slick, witty dialogue and the feeling that you are seeing something stamped with the mark of a unique and talented film-maker. None of these appear to be present in Kill Bill. Instead, all we have is a slow-paced killing spree adorned with some of the most pretentious film-directorship I've ever seen.

There are so many arty, slow-motion, knife-wielding scenes that it is hard to stay awake through the boredom; the worst of which sees Thurman slaying about a hundred people in a never-ending scene that is so pretentious and self-indulgent as to defy belief.

If this was Tarantino's first high-budget effort it would have flopped spectacularly. He seems to be on one big ego trip and he has sacrificed everything; engaging characters; entertaining dialogue and compelling story-line, in order to achieve something that he hopes will appear cool. Fortunately for Quentin, there are probably enough people in the world who are shallow and insecure enough to pretend to like this film just because it's cool to like it. In that respect, these kind of people and this kind of film are meant for each other. I just hope I never encounter any more in my life.