The Self-help Group for the Underappreciation of Brilliant Films

Winter's Bone was an instant success. Critics liked it - really like it. It made a lot of money. It featured in many people's 'top ten' lists of last year. It went on to be nominated for lots of big awards. It was the indie hit of last year. Throughout all of this nobody mentioned that it was really boring. I've read lots of reviews and haven't found a single bad word about it. But honestly, I was bored. When the final scene came I thought 'Is this end? I suppose it's been two hours. It looks a bit like the end. But hardly anything has happened yet'. I know that this is meant to be a film of atmosphere over plot. I know it's meant to be realistic and authentic. Scary in a quiet way. I just thought it was a prelude to something that never happened. This girl wanders around a run-down corner of America trying to find her father. She asks all her threatening neighbours about it, then the film ends. As a narrative it's slight, bordering on non-existent. Atmosphere can only get me so far. After a while something needs to happen or my mind wanders. I usually think about crisps or biscuits. Maybe chocolate biscuits. I could get some chocolate biscuits. I walk away to browse biscuits. And when I get back the film is still on.

I feel bad about writing this, because the things I criticise here could appeal to me in something else. I mean, it really is very atmospheric (did I mention the atmosphere?). It's the middle of the winter. Everything is dead or dying and the colour left a long time ago. The landscape is bare. The acting is excellent.  Everybody's as drab as they look. But in the end, I just wasn't interested. I suppose everyone must have a film they don't get. All the critics that rant on about it, all the articles you read, all the people that recommend it. And when you see it it doesn't happen. The weight of expectation or cruel old subjectivity? I don't know, but I won't be watching Winter's Bone again, and I won't be recommending it to anybody. There might be a club for this. Full of people who dislike films that are clearly brilliant. People who are definitely wrong. 'I don't like The Shawshank Redemption' says one. 'I didn't enjoy Lord of the Rings. Not any of them', another whimpers. Then somebody mumbles something about not liking Toy Story, and the rest shun him. Because everyone likes Toy Story. Freak.

The rest of the universe explained in pictures and words

A few days ago I briefly explained the workings of the universe, since the television has been teaching me these things. I didn't go into much detail, but it had something to do with a rabbit. There's a bit more to the universe than that, though. A few paragraphs more. For instance, I didn't mention black holes. They're bad. Really bad. I know this because the scientific description is ominous - 'a region of space from which nothing, not even light, can escape'. That's right, not even light. The forces of evil are at work here. When a star collapses at the end of its life it turns inside out and becomes this whirlpool of doom. Some scientists think that there's one at the centre of most galaxies, including our own. If you went near it you'd be sucked into it and then something will happen. Nobody knows what's at the centre of a black hole, not even Brian Cox. Probably all the rubbish that gets hoovered up; a massive bin in the middle of the galaxy. Chuck that planet in there, we don't need it anymore.

I'd guess they were warp zones to other parts of the universe. But it's probably theories like this that got me laughed out of the scientific community. I don't think they've got very far in my absence anyway. They still haven't worked out what's beyond the universe. They try to baffle you with numbers and diagrams but they don't know really. They say 'what if the universe is everything that exists, then there can't be anything outside it.' I say 'there might be other universes'. They say 'the universe is often visualised as a three-dimensional sphere embedded in four-dimensional space'. I say 'what if you go out one end and come in the other like in Pac-Man.'

Because the universe is big. Really, really big. No, not quite that big. But big. The most distant stars we can see are only visible in the past, because the light takes so long to get to us. The light from the furthest stars started travelling when there weren't even any humans on Earth. It wasn't even called Earth then. Just a mound in space. When the light started travelling there were just little squidgy things flopping around straining to evolve.

Then one of the them strained hard enough to get legs and arms, and all the others decided they wanted some too. Others couldn't be bothered and flopped in the sea to learn how to swim. We didn't talk to them again, but after a while we produced some fingers, and thumbs, and started calling each other names. Then we started speaking in words that we made up and learned how to be sarcastic all the time. Somebody called the mound Earth (who was this?) and people drew lines and divided the place up into turf. Some of the countries don't like each other very much. Somebody invented money and convinced everyone else that they need it. We got iPods, then iPhones, and eventually iPads. We evolved. And then we saw the light from the distant star. It took a while.

The universe explained in pictures and words

Astronomy would be really fun if it wasn't for all the hard science and stuff. What could be more interesting than trying to unravel the mysteries of the cosmos? Not much, but when I start looking into it I only come across equations the size of houses. All the good stuff is hidden behind impenetrable physics and words that come in five or six parts. But now Professor Brian Cox has been explaining these things to me, and I might be starting to understand. We're in the solar system, which is in a galaxy, and there's lots of galaxies in the universe. Right? Right? Good. Because it's best not to ask any more questions after that. What's outside the universe? And outside that? Maybe nothing, because it has to stop somewhere. Or maybe it repeats itself. Or maybe Men in Black was way ahead of its time. To summarise, let's look at the effect this sort of thinking has on the mind of a rabbit.

 
Wonders of the Universe is the only show on television that makes your mind actually break. That alone is worth the license fee. The Professor does a good job of explaining the fabric of existence to us. Everything's expanding, see. Expanding and getting messy. And when things reach their ultimate messy-ness, there won't be time any more, because nothing will change.

He doesn't have all the answers though. Which is probably a good thing. Ratings would go straight down. Like watching Lost, we don't really want to know why they're there or where the polar bear came from. The question is always more interesting than the answer. It's best to drag it out. When we find out, it's always the same reaction.

The Town: How to rob a bank and get away with it

In The Town Ben Affleck and friends might seem like professionals at the bank-robbing business, but they make a few simple mistakes. Even though they were wearing scary masks at the time, they can still be recognised afterwards. Which is why you shouldn't get to know one of your hostages. Romantic conversations in flower gardens are especially foolish. The car chases and shoot-outs that follow may be very exciting, but they're a sign that something has gone badly wrong. Maybe some of your team are a bit unstable. Maybe you shouldn't give them semi-automatic weaponry. And if someone offers you 'one last job', you should not be talked into it. Although, it does make the film more entertaining. The last act is pretty excellent. Robbing a stadium looks easy in cunning disguises and cool shades. You can get away with anything if you're wearing the right clothes and say things confidently enough.

 

Like Gone Baby Gone, Ben Affleck shows that he can direct solid, compelling stories. The Town lives up to its promise, and will entertain you for two hours straight. After all, it's always more fun to root for the criminals. As long they're not the really bad sort. A few heists and a bit of violence towards other criminals is nice enough. That's not hurting anybody. And the FBI do what the FBI always do - try to spoil everyone's fun. In film's at least. The real FBI do fine work, and I wouldn't want to suggest anything different to the internet robots that are now browsing this page.

Ondine: Strange people that come out of the water

I'll be honest, the only reason I watched Ondine was because one quarter of Sigur Rós composed the score. Which is probably a good enough reason to watch anything. If the other bits turn out to be good as well it'll be a bonus. So, an Irish fisherman catches a woman in his net and becomes convinced that she might be a bit mystical. His daughter thinks he's found a selkie, a sort of lady seal creature who can become temporarily human. When her singing starts bringing the fisherman luck, it seems that she might be right. But this is a film set in the real world. It asks how long the fantasy can be kept up, if it's real or just imagined. The woman doesn't want to confirm it either way, and does a lot of singing and floating around in the water. Ondine is a nice little film that spends most of it's time in the calm Irish countryside. It's gentle and funny and a little bit sleepy. There's a downbeat realism to it that stops it from getting too sugary, and Colin Farrell is likable enough to play the kind but slightly rubbish fisherman. It's the possibility of magic in a contemporary setting that keeps it interesting, and eventually a warming to the characters to see it through to the end.

And there's a few Sigur Rós songs as well. Apart from the new stuff, Kjartan Sveinsson added some familiar tunes. One song in particular plays an important part in the plot. Ondine sings it to the fishes, while being all mystical and mysterious. After all, what else would mermaids sing? The fisherman thinks it's a magical sound, proof of her being from another world. Then Sigur Rós appear on TV singing it, making him wonder if it really is a selkie song. 'That song, it's real', 'Of course it's real, it's Sigur Rós' - this is good dialogue. A film that hinges on a Sigur Rós song? This can only be a good thing.