Do biopics romanticise the lives of real people?

Over the last few years biopics have dominated the cinema scene, with high budgets and eager audiences, the genre has seen continued box office success. Biopics of musicians have seen a particular rise in popularity, spurred by the success of Bohemian Rhapsody about the eccentric Queen frontman Freddie Mercury, which became the highest-grossing biographical film of all time.

By focusing on a real-life subject, the film has a guaranteed audience and established plotline. Alongside this, a musical biopic has the marketability of a successful soundtrack. However, despite their commercial success biopics have been criticised for being motivated by profit and lacking substance. Quentin Tarantino has stated that biopics were ‘just big excuses for actors to win Oscars’ in response to their increasing prevalence. Even beyond a directorial perspective, the genre is often criticised by the devoted fans who have followed the lives and careers of these celebrities. When condensing the lives of such well-known figures, there is a tendency to underplay or overemphasise certain elements to produce the most engaging storyline.

The allure of stars like Freddie Mercury and John Lennon is not always enough to guarantee a captivating sequence of events, therefore drama often needs to be cultivated for the sake of viewership. Nowhere Boy, a biopic detailing the teenage years of John Lennon, suggests a complicated and uncomfortably intimate relationship between Lennon and his mother Julia. Similarly, Bohemian Rhapsody has been criticised for its flexible chronology and convoluted depictions of Mercury’s relationship with Jim Hutton, Paul Prenter and Mary Austin.

A recent source of controversy is the upcoming film Stardust, which details the life of David Bowie. The film was not approved by Bowie’s estate and does not contain any of his music, which resulted in many fans not supporting the film’s production. Although David Bowie is a celebrity, his life is not guaranteed personal property, which raises questions surrounding the integrity of these films. In comparison, Queen band members Brian May and Roger Taylor served as consultants on Bohemian Rhapsody and for Rocketman Elton John and his husband David Furnish were producers. It could be argued that such direct involvement encourages a level of self-indulgence or bias in the way events are depicted, but it ensures that any significant changes were approved. 

Consultation seems necessary when dealing with recent celebrities, however, when exploring the lives of historical figures, it becomes more complicated. The audience is less likely to recognise historical inconsistencies, meaning the film could perpetuate false ideas or assumptions. With historical biopics, there is a desire to romanticise a forgotten era of history and humanize previously elusive figures. Sofia Coppola’s 2006 film Marie Antoinette combines these factors, by merging modern features with a historical landscape. The lavish colours and set design deviates from historical accuracy. Depictions of historical figures such as Marie Antoinette can be more flexible to a higher extent than modern musicians due to the lack of personal claim over their stories. However, the people in biopics can easily become caricatures, which should be considered when evaluating their role and actions within these films

Ultimately, biopics should not be constrained to follow a specific timeline unless claiming to be historically accurate. Most biopics use a level of creative licencing to meet time constraints, without detriment to the person or the story that is being conveyed. However, when using unsubstantiated or fabricated events, it is the duty of the filmmaker to ensure a divide between the authentic and genuine.

“I know a good joke when I steal one”: An exploration of plagiarism in comedy

The issue of ‘joke thieves’ and plagiarism in comedy has become somewhat of a regular discussion in the past few years, with perhaps the most prominent example being American comic Amy Schumer who was exposed as having plagiarised a vast array of jokes from other comics such as John Mulaney, Kathleen Madigan and Wendy Liebman (among many others). It is important to note that joke theft is not a new issue, by any means. The 1993 Denis Leary special ‘No Cure for Cancer’ is widely regarded to have completely ripped off the act of legendary comedian Bill Hicks – both the Denis Leary and Bill Hicks performances are currently available on Netflix so you can see for yourselves how similar the two are. Further back than that, the 1973 National Lampoon stage show ‘Lemmings’ was accused of stealing a joke from Monty Python. So why is plagiarism in comedy much more prominent nowadays? It is difficult to say for sure, but the ease at which content is viewable on the internet means that if Amy Schumer tells a joke very similar to a joke Wendy Liebman told in the early 90’s, the likelihood is that there’s a video of that performance online. Thus, perhaps joke theft is not a much more important issue these days, it is simply easier to identify.

Schumer has faced very little in the way of consequences in spite of the overwhelming amount of evidence of thievery. Her new show ‘Expecting Amy’ is a hit on HBO Max, two of her stand-up specials along with her film ‘Trainwreck’ are still available on Netflix and she has won multiple awards from Critics’ Choice to an Emmy. It does not seem morally sound that Amy Schumer, and many other plagiarists, are allowed to create a successful and illustrious career based upon the jokes of other comics who are left to fall into obscurity. Denis Leary still enjoys an incredibly successful career as a writer and actor thanks largely due to the success of his ‘Cure for Cancer’ special, whereas Bill Hicks died in 1994 with only a handful of stand-up specials and an unaired Letterman performance to his name. Seemingly joke theft is not regarded as a big deal, when questioned on Leary’s plagiarism, Hicks quipped “I stole his act. I camouflaged it with punchlines, and to really throw people off, I did it before he did.”.

Many have argued that nobody can really own a joke, they are in the public domain and hold no real value. Stand-up legend Stewart Lee tackled this idea brilliantly in his routine about Joe Pasquale stealing a joke from Irish comedian Michael Redmond, and I believe the sentiment of that routine still rings true. Furthermore, in an industry as hard to break into as stand-up comedy, it is ludicrous to have to accept mainstream comics ripping-off jokes from more obscure acts – that probably will not find themselves on Live at the Apollo or Mock the Week or any other of the one-size-fits-all comedy programmes being thrust unto the viewing public by the BBC – as an inevitability. Aside from anything else, it is lazy. Plagiarism just goes to portray a lack of creativity or originality which, ultimately, will have a detrimental effect on comedy as a whole by limiting the success of new and original comics.

As a journalism student, I know how seriously plagiarism is taken in my field as well as many others such as science or music. Does it not, then, make sense for plagiarism in comedy to be taken just as seriously? It is an incredible injustice, yet it seems to be constantly shrugged off as a mere annoyance. A written joke should be held in the same regard as any other artform. The Verve made no money from ‘Bittersweet Symphony’ because it sampled an orchestral version of a Rolling Stones song, yet Amy Schumer is allowed to continue her ridiculously successful career built off the back of telling other people’s jokes, does that seem fair to you? Stop supporting the hacks. 

Studio Fiasco, Netflix Eclipse & Death to Popcorn – Interview with BAFTA Nominee, Mark Herman

When the opportunity presented itself to interview British filmmaker, Mark Herman, it was too bountiful of an opportunity to not seize, considering he’s a successful BAFTA nominee and director/screenwriter behind British gems such as Brassed Off and Little Voice, but also the highly received The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas.

With British cinema seeing new heights each year and playing an active role in the production of Hollywood blockbusters, I thought I’d ask Herman for his insights on the inner workings of the industry. He confessed that he feels “currently very embittered by it” and that “the only thing I know about for sure, personally, are some of the frustrations caused by the workings of the industry”.

His last film, The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas, a powerful story centred on the relationship of a Nazi Officer’s son and his relationship with a Jewish boy in a concentration camp, was released twelve years ago. Herman remembers that the year after its release in 2008, “I seemed to get sent nothing but projects about The Holocaust, when in fact that would be the last thing I would want to be doing next”. He disapproves of Studios’ behaviour, saying “There is a lack of such financier bravery these days, nobody will stick their neck out and take a risk”. He voices how the industry has been on a creative downhill tumble for decades, saying that twenty years ago the “hoops and hurdles a director would have to go through and over were so much fewer. There was a trust in directors’ track records that is not so obvious today.” He punctuates his disenchantment saying “Nowadays it feels like everything has to be safe: either adaptation of successful novels, or sequels in big hit franchises”. Clearly, the industry has had its philosophies re-calibrated, particularly after the collaboration and selling-of-its-soul to Hollywood. Now, all that’s on the menu are micro-budget arthouse flicks that don’t get the circulation they deserve, or colossal budgeted, formulaic studio blockbusters that you can’t escape from.

As a spectator, he articulates how the industry has become numb and is in need of a wake-up call, saying “instead of having films that split opinion, that some people might hate but some just adore, what gets churned out are films that neither really offend nor really delight anybody.” Its systematic, cancerous values have cursed and swindled filmmakers with a ‘survival of the fittest’ mentality. It has cranked up the dog-eat-dog intensity and has fundamentally strangled the life out of the creativity and arts the industry was founded on, that has now been morphed into a relentless business machine with the maximisation of money in its crosshairs and nothing else. Herman solidifies the toxically dysfunctional behaviour of the industry saying “The tail wags the dog in a way”. Cinema finds itself in a bleak dystopian world, having suffocated and neglected the other equally superior services of film; to make us feel, dream and escape our reality.

The industry is juggling several gruelling existential crises and it would be fair to say it’s being put through the wringer. With the recent news of juggernaut cinema chain, Cineworld, suddenly going into a long haul hibernation to save itself from bankruptcy and then mammoth Hollywood
conglomerate, Warner Bros, deciding to release its entire slate of films for 2021 online, it seems that the exhibition sector is lost in no mans land. Both of these strong footed companies haven’t just been outmuscled directly by Coronavirus, but also indirectly by celebrity assassin, Netflix (last victim, Blockbuster). The streaming service’s popularity has taken spectatorship by storm, revolutionising the game, also being catalysed by the orders of sedentarism from the pandemic. Herman argues that younger generations “have got very used to gobbling up ‘movies’ on smaller and smaller screens, and after this year of many people not even experiencing a trip to the movies, folk do get used to alternatives.” With the ball now being in the cinema’s court to win audiences back over, they “will need to make ‘going to the movies’ a little bit more special than it has been in the last decades. Popcorn is no longer enough (..thank God)”. Or will this be the final nail in the coffin?

This fruitful interview aroused many concerns regarding the fate of cinema and what’s in store for it next. Are we on the brink of an ice age, or gearing up for a renaissance? Whatever may be at the root of the disappointments from the industry; the churning out of lethargic, humdrum blockbusters or the ebbing away of the cinema-trip culture, we need to remind ourselves that the industry is founded on supply and demand. Thus, to save the industry, as audiences, we must act; the blood is on our hands.

Header image credit: Aesthetica Short Film Festival

‘Bridgerton’ Review: Why is it so popular and is it worth the hype?

Despite only being released on 25th December 2020, Bridgerton became Netflix’s fifth most-watched original launch, with over 63 million households tuning in to watch the regency drama unfold. Based on the novels by American author Julia Quinn, the series follows the influential Bridgerton family during the eventful social season as they navigate the competitive world of love, status and expectation.

Broadcast amidst tighter lockdown restrictions in the UK, the series benefits from a nationwide desire for escapism. At the centre of the story, is the relationship between favoured debutanté Daphne Bridgerton (Phoebe Dyvenor) and bachelor Simon Bassett (Regé-Jean Page), whose connection is formed on the basis of a relationship ruse. The relationship between the two leads is convincing but also flawed, which adds a level of depth and relatability to the characters which is not always present in period dramas.

 However, it is the strength of the ensemble cast that secures the series’ longevity. The characters are likeable and engaging, with unique story arcs which are already being set up for the second series. Daphne and Simon’s story is largely concluded by the finale, but the audience is left with a desire to see the stories of the secondary characters develop.  The Lady Whistledown subplot, narrated by the revered Julie Andrews, ties the whole Bridgerton universe together and ensures that the drama is not only limited to the two lead characters.

Although largely lighthearted in tone, under the guise of bright costuming and elaborate balls the series also highlights some serious topics. The precarious position of women is explored through the competitive nature of the marriage market and it exposes many women’s lack of autonomy in their destiny. Similarly, although the younger women in Bridgerton are often strong-willed and passionate, they are also extremely vulnerable and largely ignorant of the society which awaits them.

Despite its clear popularity, the series has not been without criticism. There has been some questioning over the historical accuracy and diversity of the series, to which Julia Quinn responded ‘’I’ve been dinged by the accuracy police – but it’s fantasy!’ The beauty of the series is its ability to include and immerse a wide audience. It combines all the elements of successful period dramas; the ball sequences, the country houses and central love arc, without feeling restricted or stagnant. When adapting a Jane Austen novel, you are limited by the notoriety of the characters, the language and the story. An example being the 2020 version of Sanditon, Austen’s unfinished novel, which was met with backlash over its uncharacteristic ending. Therefore, unlike Austen, Quinn’s novels are more flexible, they maintain the regency appeal whilst successfully incorporating modern inspirations from other eras. Bridgerton isn’t afraid to push the boundaries of what is expected of a period drama with its polarising sex scenes quickly revealing to the audience that the series would be multifaceted and unimpeded by convention.

Bridgerton pays homage to the beloved elements of period dramas, whilst still feeling fresh and engaging. Its diverse and charming cast is complemented by the immersive and romantic setting, which appeals to both serial period drama lovers and new fans of the genre. Ultimately, the series temporarily distracts us from the bleak state of the world and reiterates the utter joy and importance of the arts in providing entertainment even in the darkest of times.

Mank Review: David Fincher’s Love Letter to Old Hollywood

Mank marks the collaboration between heavy-weight Director David Fincher (Fight Club, Seven, The Social Network) and Netflix. It throws us into the action of Hollywood in the 1930’s from the perspective of the raging alcoholic screenwriter, Herman J. Mankiewicz, as he writes Citizen Kane, one of the highest acclaimed films of all time. The film is rife with social commentary on the industry at the time, communicating the world’s political ambiguity with World War Two lurking just around the corner.

Fincher goes slightly off-piste in Mank, a black and white love-letter to 1930s Hollywood, much like La La Land was to 1950s Musicals. His romanticisation of the era roars. The punching of the type-writer for scene headings, strong orchestral scores, fuzzy gramophone-like dialogue quality, characters’ faces split up with light strips from drawn blinds and idling cigarettes delicately left balancing on the rim of an ashtray and still smoking. His brilliant direction brings these text-book pictures to life. We’re teleported back into the bustling streets of Hollywood with classic cars, retro poster ads, bellboys with funny hats, three piece suits and tie clips and filterless cigarettes. We are also given an insight into turmoil left behind by the Great Depression, the anticipation of the Golden Era and speculation about what this ‘Hitler’ guy is up to in Germany. Even though Mank is set some ninety years ago, the parallels in-between its financial crisis to ours today were too big to go unnoticed. 

The casting pays off, with the great Gary Oldman taking the reigns as the screenwriting protagonist and Amanda Seyfried filling the shoes of a femme fatale-like actress. Despite this, the script hampers his potential and doesn’t give him the space of delivering a game-changer we know he’s capable of. How much wiggle room can an actor have to impress if he’s cemented in a bed for half the film? With this being said, there is credit to be rewarded in the casting department, particularly for not giving in to pressures for mega marketable names unlike the Coen Brother’s Hail Caesar!, starring George Clooney, Scarlett Johnson and Jonah Hill. Going down this path would’ve tainted the artistic integrity and tone which Fincher boasts.

Not long into Mank, once the novelty of its beautiful lighting and striking costumes begins to settle, its serious flaws begin to materialise. Alarm bells start to ring early on, booming ‘style over substance’ and this is incredibly hard to shake off. The film’s runtime of nearly 2 1/2 hours proves to make it a downright tedious experience, boldly toying with audience’s patience levels. Equally, the film is peppered with meaning and conflict that just doesn’t appeal to the common man. The daily endeavours of Herman J. Mankiewicz and his navigation to making one of the best pieces of cinema is actually, quite a dull piece of cinema. Mank prioritises its indulgent commitment to the vintage aesthetic and consequently, neglects the most primitive service of cinema; to entertain.

This trap also has a knock on effect with the flow of the narrative, through the excessive usage of the slow, fade-to-black. Although this editing technique is also a motif from the Noir-era, it’s exhausted and as a result makes the entire film feel very segmented, like a collection of isolated scenes that don’t carry over smoothly on to the next. Middle man, John Houseman (played by Sam Troughton), pays a visit to Herman Mankiewicz, criticising his patient development on Citizen Kane, saying he’s “hardly out of the first act”. What’s amusing with this line is how the concept of plot structure is non-existent in the overarching film, resulting in a narrative that waffles through its generous run-time. Although validation can be given to the importance of flashbacks, it isn’t executed very well or clearly, resulting in a slightly messy narrative.

Mank offers something new in an age of humdrum films built on generic conventions and passive audiences. It packs a theoretically interesting premise, that delivers for a two-minute trailer, but over 135 minutes, it’s empty and falls flat on its face. Fincher won our trust in making biopics with an exciting, slick and intense execution in The Social Network. You’d be forgiven to assume that he copied and pasted his algorithmic approach here with Mank, but alas, as we all know, lightning doesn’t strike twice. Fincher has lost his charm in this project, but what has stayed is his slick dialogue, clever subtext and ‘cigarette burns’ (queue, Tyler Durden monologue). But ask yourself this – if a house can’t be built on sand, can a film stand on aesthetics and dialogue?

Header image credit: The Times

Culture in the Time of Covid

Hyde Park Book Club 

Book Club is a great spot for either a chilled pint with friends or a great opportunity to pick up a book from their selection of great non-fiction and fiction. Over lockdown they threw book launches on Zoom to celebrate new and exciting fiction, so keep an eye on their Instagram for more details of upcoming similar events. Alongside their reads, they also offer up a tasty selection of delicious cakes (some vegan) and coffee. The downstairs venue is great for live music, comedy, poetry, spoken word and Book Club also offers up free jazz nights – gigs can be heard from upstairs in the evenings. 

Hyde Park Picture House

Now this is a cinematic gem and a must-go in your first year if you get the chance to – socially distanced. Built in 1914 originally showing pictures to boost the war effort, Hyde Park Picture House is still standing on Brudenell Road in Leeds’s bustling student epicentre Hyde Park. Run by Picturehouse who have cinemas and comedy clubs across the country, this cinema boasts comfy seats situated in a single cinema room. You enter through a lovely old-fashioned foyer and can choose from the latest amazing arthouse, towering blockbusters and cult classics. Currently closed due to renovations, Picture House is ‘exploring the viability of resuming these later this year’: make sure you check it out when it reopens its doors! Picture House has previously linked up with LUU, showcasing a roster of exceptional indie films on campus prior to the end of last academic year, demonstrating how in touch it is with the student body. 

City Varieties

Nestled in a central town alleyway, Swan Street, City Varieties Music Hall is Leeds’s oldest theatre stretching back to its construction in 1865. It is one of the oldest known surviving British music halls, the kind of venues in which Charlie Chaplin and co. used to perform. City Varieties is definitely a hidden gem and well worth the visit not only for its mix of comedy, pre-recorded theatre shows and music, but also due to its golden old-world décor. A fancier night out, there’s something special for everyone at City Varieties. 

Leeds Playhouse: 

Waiting for Leeds Playhouse to reignite its electric line-up of plays was agonising. However, the theatre will now reopen its doors from Friday 2nd October. A registered charity, the Playhouse is also one of the UK’s most critically acclaimed theatres and exhibits some of the nation’s most celebrated plays during their runs. Playhouse presents a variety of productions from Hamlet to Jackie and the Beanstalk. Donations and various support opportunities via their website are also currently accepted to keep the theatre going during these strange times. 

Leeds Art Gallery and the Henry Moore Institute 

Two lovely galleries with their collections partially now reopen including the Lower Galleries at Leeds Art Gallery and limited numbers at Henry Moore. Located on Leeds’s iconic Headrow, Leeds Art Gallery has been unveiling art to the masses since 1888. It contains plenty of twentieth century art as well as more modern installations and is both linked to Leeds Central Library and the Henry Moore Institute. Entrance to the permanent exhibitions is free! In December they are running free Youth Collective Sessions at the gallery where you can meet like-minded people while exploring your creative side, all while probing their usual collections! Henry Moore is also open after a closure of nearly five months and their sculptures, linked to the City Gallery by an archway, despite being a bit more highbrow, are well done. However, if you are quarantining, fear not: you can still conduct a virtual visit of exhibitions including Paloma Varga Veisz’s Bumped Body to fulfil your arty needs. 

Image Credits: (clockwise left to right): Henry Moore Foundation, Leeds Art Gallery, Visit Leeds, Leeds Playhouse, hydeparkbookclub.co.uk, The Gryphon 

Black Lives Matter, Covid-19 and the Arts: An Interview with BBC Two Channel Controller Patrick Holland

Owen Frost sits down (virtually) with Patrick Holland, Controller of BBC 2, to discuss his channel’s policies regarding Black Lives Matter and the increasing importance of history in public broadcasting.

Owen: Hi Patrick, can you tell the readership a little bit about what your role is at the BBC and what you do?

Patrick Holland: My name is Patrick Holland and I am the controller of BBC Two. I also look after BBC Four, commissioning programmes there as well. As a Channel Controller, I work to commission programmes from across a wide range of genres including documentaries, music, arts, drama, comedy and entertainment. Each of these genres has a controller of that particular genre who work with their team to develop ideas and then they discuss them with me about whether they commission them for BBC Two/BBC Four. There is a whole portfolio of channels at the BBC and I am very privileged to run one of them.

O: Hospital, which you commissioned when you first started out as Controller of BBC Two focuses on the crucial work the NHS continues to do in our country. What do you think the importance is of broadcasting shows about the NHS during the current pandemic?

PH: I developed Hospital as at the time we felt envious of 24 Hours in A&E on Channel Four’s success, but I wanted a series which explored what was really happening in the NHS – showing bed shortages and winter flu crises. Hospital has told these stories in a very interesting and humane way. One of the things that I am most proud of in the last year is the Covid-19 special that Label1 made – a two-part series inside the Royal Free Hospital. Staff and patients know the TV show now and know that it has that commitment to exploring what happens inside the NHS at large. The access they were able to achieve during Covid-19 and the stories they were able to tell, I think will really stand as one of the outstanding documentaries made during this terrible time.

Hospital Series One, (Image Credit: BBC2)

O: It certainly sounds like these programmes reflect issues of today. In light of the Black Lives Matter Movement and Edward Colston’s statue being torn down, do you have any more programmes planned which will inform the public about Britain’s colonialist past?

PH: Over the last few weeks we have repeated series from History on iPlayer so newer audiences have access to them. David Olusoga’s series Black and British: A Forgotten History tells of black people’s experience in the UK. David’s latest A House Through Time, part of a returning social history format we have on the channel, follows the inhabitants of a house over the centuries in particular parts of the UK. Series one was in Liverpool, series two was in Newcastle and series three was in Bristol. Olusoga’s series engages with the Colston statue and the place of the slave trade in A House Through Time weeks before the Black Lives Matter responded to the killing of George Floyd. I think that there has been some extraordinary output on the BBC that has attempted to explore the deep underpinnings of the slave trade and Britain’s role in the slave trade. One of the other things we have made is a massive £100 million commitment over three years to produce diverse and inclusive content. It is not just about telling stories of BAME experiences in history but it is also really important that the people who are making films are from BAME backgrounds and also different social classes because television, like lots of professions, is quite hard to get into and once you get there the profession can be quite precarious. As an industry, we are trying to search hard for answers to retain brilliant BAME people coming into television. We need to work hard to retain them, promote those people and find the best roles for them because they need to be the future leaders as much as everyone else.

O: The reality show School documented the ups and downs of the education system. Do you think you might ever produce a show about university students?

PH: We did a series last year called How to Break into the Elite with Amol Rajan (BBC News Media Editor). His question was how you break into competitive professions (media, law, banking) if you come from a background like his. He followed university leavers from different backgrounds and tried to assess what their chances were. He found a huge amount of low-level prejudice which was stopping people from entering professions and there were discriminations made at an early stage about CVs names and how you carry yourself in an interview. We have commissioned Amol to do another two-part series which follows up about young people’s experiences. It created quite a lot of debate. Looking at the experience of young people and what their life chances are is certainly what we’re interested in. I wouldn’t say no to an observational documentary with university students like we did with School!

How to Break into the Elite, (Image Credit: BBC 2)

O: It would seem like BBC 2 focuses on challenging shows which evoke thought about everyday things in an exploratory way?

PH: I think one of the key things we are trying to do is that we don’t want a presenter who is telling people how to think. I think people are far more sophisticated in their viewing habits. We want to immerse people inside these new stories in an observational way and let them make up their own minds.

O: Thank you very much for this.

PH: You’re welcome, thank you.

Featured Image Credit: Edinburgh TV Festival