What have you watched recently? 3D!

Insomnia (2002)

Going back and watching Christopher Nolan's most conventional, straight-line feature was a really curious experience, what with all the subsequent conceptual context in the back of my head. All the theming and style that would inform the director's later - and more lauded or remembered - blockbusters. Even though there was a gimmick underpinning this particular film, it never quite played as large a role as I suspected it would have ... had this been made years later - when Nolan would have the clout to crash 747s into hangers on a whim. The moments of insomnia and hallucination brought to life instead in passing flourishes, the bulk of the runtime focused more on its boilerplate mystery set within the constant daylight of Alaska. Unlike something like Tenet, the gimmick here was the garnish - not the whole meal.

That this film has a legacy at all is probably down to the central performances; or more specifically, one central performance. That career swerve of Robin Williams we saw in the late 90s to early 2000s was all too brief, so perhaps that explains why Insomnia's legacy pivots around the late comic's turn as the killer; understandable enough. But in the subsequent two decades of "Al Pacino" coming to mean loud, brash scenery chewing - alongside the myriad impersonations thereof - what surprised upon the rewatch was just how subtle and restrained Pacino's turn was. 

His detective slowly fell apart as the cumulative sleepless nights caught up with him, all reflected in an increasingly haunted, dead-eyed appearance. The comparison here is like when actors are asked to play drunk: sometimes they might affect the mannerisms too much, "acting" drunk with a self-consciousness that calls attention to the performance; here in this instance, Pacino simply looked shot to hell. I don't think he yawned once - rather he slumped about exhausted, his speech slurred a touch, always 30 seconds behind the rest of the planet.

Hate to say it, given it's totally a Desert Island Movie - but even Heat couldn't quite avoid it: Pacino's performance is great, but SHE'S GOT A GREAT ÁSS! a definitely moment of the actor going Full Pacino. It's a funny scene, but definitely indicative of that slide towards self-parody. Michael Mann otherwise reigned in those impulses though.

Fair enough though if 2002 was praising Pacino; I got the impression most of the focus then was on Robin Williams, cos for him it was such a significant gear shift from what audiences were familiar with. A shame we didn't see more of that kind of thing.

Even aside from the drama roles, the guy commanded the box office in the 90s, his films like Jumanji, Mrs Doubtfire, Clubber etc made hundreds of millions of dollars. With films children loved.

There isn't really an equivalent these days; certainly not an actor/entertainer who children would immediately flock to a cinema for. Characters, sure. Captain Marvel, America, Iron Man and so on. But not actors.

Porco Rosso (1992)

Only Miyazaki could make aerial dogfights both thrilling, yet oddly chill and tranquil at the same time.

Obviously between this and The Wind Rises, Miyazaki really betrayed a love of aircraft through those films' iconography; a passion for the golden age of flying and aircraft design. This film's most detailed, exacting scenes were often those of planes both at rest in hangers, or sweeping across the blue canvas like swallows. Those little glints of light across the canvas wings inviting awe - a love that was infectious. I'd challenge even the most dispassionate viewer, those most apathetic towards the smoke and oil of the analogue era, to walk away and not feel a shiver; Miyazaki wanted us to warm to those rickety craft - both ungainly yet graceful at the same time.

All that said, this wasn't a superficial creature: behind that excitable, gear-head grin sat a simple, melancholy tale. Of a pig, both literal and figurative, so wracked with Survivor's Guilt and self-loathing he had fooled himself into ignorance of an obvious, loyal affection. While like those Westerns where the railroad signified the slow extinction of a near-mythical age, Porco Rosso's romp was constantly shadowed by the encroaching corruption of fascism and obsolescence. Knowing the jet-age was only a few years away, this "simple" time of airboats felt doubly doomed. This was the dying of the light; the ending of the film punctuated this, while also vaguely hopeful - albeit with its smile tempered by a sense of something forever lost.  

"I'd much rather be a pig than a fascist". A creed to live by.