So I met this guy who worked on Street Fighter by Kent Hill

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So there I was, peddling my wares. A heapin’ helpin’ of the ideas I had for movies were dying slow, dusty deaths on shelves and in draws until a friend suggested that I should simply write them all as books.

Supanova is what we have Down Under instead of Comic Con, and it was on day one of said Con that I sat, anxious, for there were no takers. Books with no pictures seemed about as welcome in that place as a sign stating: Cosplayers will be shot!

Still I kept the faith and soon enough I noticed folks were coming around. The awesome cover art and weird juxtaposition of genres were beginning to grab attention. Soon this cool cat with steampunk attire and weaponry approached the bench. To my surprise he bought a book and then, as is often the case when talking to me, the conversation quickly shifted to the topic of movies.

It was in that moment the guy, out of the blue, told me he had worked on Street Fighter – a film generally regarded as one of those tiresome ‘video game’ movies. Big, expensive, lead weights that treated the box office like the iceberg that sank the Titanic.

Sue me, okay, I gotta soft spot for Street Fighter man, it’s a guilty pleasure – plus I was intrigued, as I often am, to hear behind the scenes stories.

People line up at these Cons and spend ridiculous sums of money to get celebrity autographs. It’s money they could save, let me tell you, if folks would just hang around til the end of the day – or come in really early. It’s this tactic that saw me meet Chewbacca and have a coffee with Nick Frost for a grand total of zero dollars. So to these types I must have appeared bonkers when I asked Daryl Zimmermann for his autograph. A guy that had worked on a film most of the kids walking the floor that day, I’m pretty sure, had no idea existed.

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So Daryl, shocked as I supposed he must have been, signed the back of a card I had in my wallet. And he’s a top bloke I tell you – as well as being a man who worked on a movie I happen to like.

If you haven’t seen Street Fighter, now’s your chance. It’s written and directed by the guy who wrote Die Hard and stars Van Damme, back when he had more cocaine than brains (apparently). I have already interviewed Zengief, who gave me a few stories from in front of the camera. But, Daryl played his part in the movie too (see E. Honda Vs Zengief clip above) …

 

 

 

Henry Selick’s James & The Giant Peach

Henry Selick’s James & The Giant Peach is one of those films I watched so many times and at such an impressionable age that it’s been sort of seared into my consciousness like an especially vivid dream. It’s also one of the few adaptations of a book by beloved author Roald Dahl that really captures the magic of the source material. I can think of this and maybe one other film version of his stories that have anything close to that demented whimsical aura his writing had, he’s a bit like Dr. Seuss in the sense that what he did was so specific and special that it’s almost futile to even try to faithfully adapt it. The story is unmistakable: young orphan James (Paul Terry) is out in the care of abusive relatives Aunt Spiker (Joanna Lumley) and and Aunt Sponge (Miriam Margoyles), horrible, ugly old cows who mistreat him day and night. One day a mysterious Old Man (Pete Postlethwaite, charismatic and well casted) gives him a little bag of magic radioactive rice kernels, which turn a nearby peach into a gargantuan hideout in which he finds some unlikely friends. Earthworm (David Thewlis), Centipede (a feisty Richard Dreyfus), Spider (Susan Sarandon), Gloworm (Margoyles in a dual role), Grasshopper (Simon Callow) and Ladybug (Jane Leeves) form up the boy’s entomological posse as they roll the giant peach down into the sea and embark on a musically surreal adventure that includes seagulls, undead arctic pirates, a massive storm, musical numbers and one pissed off steam punk mecha-Shark. Selick uses the the same jaw dropping, gorgeous stop motion animation he employed in A Nightmare Before Christmas, and the result is tactile, textured visuals that give all the animated scenes bizarro world realism, I’m not sure if there’s a Blu Ray out there but there really ought to be. This is one visually spectacular piece with a real sense of wonder and playfulness, and although it deviates from the book a fair bit, it still somehow does Dahl proud in terms of style and tone. A treasure .

-Nate Hill

The Phantom Of The Opera: A Review by Nate Hill

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I’ve never seen The Phantom Of The Opera on stage, so so I have nothing to really compare Joel Shumacher’s 2004 cinematic vision to, but I know that it was one of the most glorious and formative theatre going experiences for me, so much so that I think I probably went and saw the thing like eight times when it came out. I had never heard a single of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s music before then and had not a clue as to what the story was. My extant of Phantom knowledge at that point was only of a chalky faced, emaciated Lon Chaney Jr. skulking around a silent black and white frame.
   I was cosmically blown away by the magic of it, the story, the songs, the rich production design and especially the two elemental lead performances from Gerard Butler and Emmy Rossum. Again, no idea how the stage actors compare to these two, but Gerard and Emmy’s take on the Phantom and Christine are now scorched into my psyche as the definitive versions. Butler nails the formula perfectly: scary when he needs to be, tender when he wants to be and always a formidable force of dark romanticism and tragic damnation. Rossum is like an angelic comet as Christine Daae, with the best singing voice of the cast and a presence that will bring the viewer to tears and make you instantly fall in love with her.
   Christine works in the prestigious Opera Populaire as a chorus girl, until she is shunted into the limelight when their prima donna of a star singer (a flat out brilliant Minnie Driver) walks off in a huff. Rossum then proceeds to move heaven and earth with her rendition of ‘Think Of Me’, accompanied by some of the most incredible camera work I’ve seen, sweeping through the elegant halls along with her crystal clear voice.
   The mysterious Phantom watches her from dark alcoves and hidden buttresses, entranced by her talent and brimming with love sickness. He has love in him no doubt, but we all know there is hate there too, catalyzed by an unfortunate deformation and a cruel past that has left him in exile. He basically runs the show from the shadows though, with utmost class and heaps of theatrical menace.
   Christine also has eyes for her childhood friend Raoul (Patrick Wilson). Wilson is the only player who seems a bit out of his depth, perhaps because he hadn’t yet found the assurance in stride and charisma he has in his roles these days. Miranda Richardson is excellent as ever in an understated turn as Christine’s aunt and teacher. Jennifer Ellison is her friend and fellow singer Meg. Ciaran Hinds and Simon Callow are inspired as the comic relief duo who purchases the opera house, and watch for Kevin R. McNally as well.
  Every song is a winner, every frame composed of grandiose ambition and every ounce of vocal strength thrown forth by the cast, particularly Rossum and Butler who go a mile and then some, holding their own individual presence as well as pulling off the sorrowful chemistry between the Phantom and Christine. There’s a few key sequences that should go down in the history books on how to stage a scene, including a dazzling masquerade ball, a wintry swordfight in a cemetery, the aforementioned Think Of Me, and my personal favourite: a mournful black and white prologue set decades after the story, kicking the film off with a rousing flourish of motion and music. I’m sure there are scores of people who swear by the stage production and want nothing to do with this, or simply weren’t wowed to the levels I was. That’s fine. For me though, I don’t see any version ever topping this jewel of a film, and the classic two disc dvd sits proudly on my shelf, daring any other rendition, cinematic or otherwise to give it a run for it’s money.