The Story of Film: A New Generation

An insight into how cinema across the world has changed in recent years and it's impact upon us.

Those who go to the pictures at their local multiplex once a week, may wish to look elsewhere for a documentary about the movies, as this is probably not it. Cousins takes cinema very very seriously and shares with us through probably over 100 clips precisely in his view what are the clever life changing pieces of cinema that the world should be impressed by and why. Ok, it's a point of view like any criticism and he clearly knows his stuff, but overall it's a hard slog unless you're a cineaste or a film critic reliving the films you've reviewed so carefully, that probably few others watching this on Netflix will have seen. Coupled with Cousins' slow, whispering Irish drawl that could easily send you to sleep, I suggest you avoid watching this late at night and have 'Carry on Up the Khyber' on standby.

This film is really an essay by Mark Cousins, on the films he has watched in the last 20 years and what he thinks about them. There is little in the way of actual insight. I found it useful to find new films which look interesting, films that either passed me by or I did not hear of. In that way I am grateful to be introduced to The Kidnappers, Cemetery of Splendour, Theorem, November, It Follows, Norte, An Elephant Sitting Still, About Leila and The Pearl Button.

For an analysis of 21st Century films released this essay was very wanting. There was no rhyme or rhythm to the structure. Many times it was a case of Cousins saying "look at this", "look at that", "isn't that smart". That kind of investigation can only go so far until you realise it is just a collage of film snippets that look great.

For a better analysis of film, I recommend the BritBox exclusive Reel Britannia which looks into British films by decade between the 1960s and 1990s. That is a clever concept as the stop gaps are the decade themselves and the TV show elaborately picks a subject or genre and discusses with more depth than this film.

A lot of people have criticised Cousins dry delivery in his narration. Personally, I did not mind it, although it does put into mind it is not so much what he says, which is actually not that interesting, but the way he says it. Some people may confuse slow delivery with deftness. I came away with the impression this film is limited by what Cousins saw and he has not seen.

It is really a love note to himself.

This is a documentary that taught me next to nothing.

Watched a little while before the eyelids became heavy, it's not the content, but the monotonous drone of a voice...explains things as if he should be heard, the expert, but when the life-force is that of a deadweight glutton after a Christmas meal, the best thing you can do is switch off the film and go for a sleep. Worst narration I've heard, despite the obvious knowledge it holds. Maybe he's listened to too many voiceovers by Morgan freeman and assumed he could emulate. Freeman's voice wouldn't do it justice either. Maybe Mark Kermode could have been approached, or someone with a bit of life and doesn't need a de-esser to eliminate more hisses than the snake from disneys Robin Hood.

The material presented in this marathon documentary is good enough, but it takes herculean effort and patience to endure narrator Cousin's astonishingly and consistently annoying manner of speaking, hour after hour.

Each sentence of narration is delivered the same monotonous way: lifelessly and sleepily, with every last syllable of every sentence ending with an identical upward inflection, giving a sense of questioning uncertainty like a helpless dying whimper.

A charming Irish lilt is one thing, but there is nothing charming about Cousins' style of narration. Any director with any sense at all would have chosen a different narrator to make this a far more compelling documentary.

It's always nice seeing montages of film clips, if only to discover new treats. I watched a third of this on 1.5x speed, which made Cousins' monotonous, slow narration sound vaguely more normal. But then the clips were too fast. Cousins really is a pompous dousche. He describes the opening credits of Deadpool as if we need to be told that they're somehow edgy or different. He explains that they 'pushed the boundaries of comedy' or something. And on it goes. He seems to think he's some appointed superiority on the real poetry of cinema, here to hold your hand through stuff that never would have occured to you before. Even explaining how 'passion' drives cinema. Yet his own narration is so passionless, so pretentiously lofty in its delivery, he commits a huge sin in boring you rather than exciting you about cinema. I prefer Scorsese or Tarantino riffing on their observations anyday. Cousins should really be making hypnotherapy CDs.