Jean-François Virey (jfvirey)

Constructed out of film footage shot from 1968 to 1972, in the heyday of the Apollo program, with audio commentary by the astronauts who were in missions 8 to 17 and either flew around the Moon or actually set foot on it, "For All Mankind" (a title borrowed from a Kennedy speech) portrays the whole Apollo program as one single composite flight, and is therefore structured not chronologically, as one might expect, but according to the various stages of the journey, from preparation to ocean plop.

Puzzled as I was by this unusual narrative order (which I only figured out after the film was over), and a bit left behind by some of the astronauts' heavy accents, I found this very informal documentary less engrossing than, say, "In the Shadow of the Moon". It is not about context and history, or even science and technology, but about the human experience of going to the Moon, and especially the moments when nothing significant is happening, and the astronauts are just goofing around on the surface, listening to country music or having fun with food and zero gravity.

The two things that fascinated me about this documentary, apart from the stark beauty of our satellite and the surprisingly good definition of the later films, were how often religious language and references popped up in the astronauts' commentaries, and how quickly these outlanders began to feel at home on the Moon, and form an attachment to this inhospitable, black and white dustbowl.

"Objectified" is a documentary about modern industrialised objects, the thought processes that go into them, and the impact they have on our lives. It is composed mostly of designers and design curators and editors from all over the world expressing their philosophies of design; explaining how specific objects such as a very early laptop computer or a pair of garden shears were conceived; or actually brainstorming about the way we keep our teeth clean, potentially leading to a revolutionary toothbrush or the end of toothbrushing itself.

At its best, the film evokes a zen-like mood with its shots of beautifully designed everyday things and its unobtrusive electro soundtrack, but some of the time it looks only like a cluttered reflection of our vain consumerist lives, beating the latest blockbuster in terms of intrusive product placement. One of the interviewees explains that most of what designers do is not solve users' problems with better thought-out models, but simply respond to manufacturers' demand for "more SKUs": "They want more stuff and they want more people to buy it." The environmental costs of our constant demand for the "very new" and the "very next" are also dealt with in the final part, where designers confess that virtually all they have ever produced is probably decaying in a landfill somewhere.

I may have had excessively high hopes about this documentary. I somewhat expected it to make me see the world in a new light, to transform my relationship to the ominipresent manufactured objects that surround me. It did strengthen my appreciation of the work conscientious designers do, the expertise they have ("we know better what people need than they do, in terms of ergonomics, design, etc.") and the validity of the values they try to embody in their creations (clarity, honesty, durability, consistency, etc.) but it didn't transform my perception of my manufactured environment.

"The Elephant Man" is my favorite film ever. When I first saw it though, back in 1982 I think, I was so much in love with "Eraserhead" that I wanted there to be more surrealistic, dreamlike sequences. But then as I became more human, and more Victorian, I gradually came to love the film more and more each time I saw it, which must be about twelve times as of today. Retrospectively, I realize this film probably contributed to making me an absolute opponent of abortion and euthanasia before I even thought about the subject. Joseph Merrick is definitely someone I want to meet in Heaven.

"Harlequin" is my second favorite movie of all time. Is it a coincidence if it was also made in 1980 like the first, "The Elephant Man"? I am surprised that it never became a cult movie, despite the awards it received around the world the year it was released. Is it because most of the people involved in it disappeared into limbo, with director Simon Wincer going on to direct much less brilliant scripts, mostly for TV, (including quite a few "Young Indiana Jones" episodes) and screenwriter Everett De Roche also moving to the small screen after a few other hits such as "Link" and "Razorback" (though he currently seems to be making a comeback) ? Or is it because the movie has not been released in widescreen in either the U.S. or the U.K. (it was shot in 2.35 : 1) ? Whatever the reasons, this fictional retelling of the story of Rasputin in a modern (late 70s) Australian context boasts a top-notch script, much in the same vein as M. Night Shyamalan's later works, except perhaps more subtle, and an unforgettable interpretation of the lead character, ambiguous and charismatic guru Gregory Wolfe, by the brilliant Robert Powell, who was also in my opinion the best Jesus on screen, and would have deserved to make a much more brilliant career. The only weakness of the film that I am aware of is its visual special effects, which are very poor, but fortunately very scarce : this makes it the very opposite of the usual Hollywood movie, which is strong on SFX and weak on story. The whole cast is good (including young Mark Spain as hemophiliac Alex Rast), the score by Brian May (of "Mad Max" fame) nicely supports the more dramatic moments, and the whole film casts a spell over the viewer with its mysterious atmosphere, strange imagery and moral dilemmas. Unfortunately, if you want to see a decent copy, and not a defaced, 4:3 one, you will have to purchase the zone 2 version that was released by the French magazine "Mad Movies". To my knowledge, this is the only way to see the film as it was originally shot. "Harlequin" definitely should not remain a sleeper.