Guest Review: George On Untouchable

James A. George On Untouchable

Last year this was the second biggest box office success in France ever and voted the cultural event of 2011 in France with 52% of the votes in a poll. Untouchable is a rare laugh-ou- loud gem among the predictably crude Hollywood comedies this year (and years past). Francois Cluzet (my personal favourite contemporary French actor) plays Philippe, quadriplegic busy millionaire businessman that loves classical music and visits to the opera but under his hard shell is very lonely. He takes on Driss, played by comedian Omar Sy, as his new carer, due to the young man’s lack of compassion and sympathy. Driss is impulsive, flirtatious, weed-smoking and loves dancing to Kool & the Gang. The stereotypes are ripe throughout and the cold, dull cinematography of Driss’ flat compared to the lavish home of Philippe shines colourfully, ultimately however it never crosses into offensive territory and remains just problematic comedic formula.

The familiar buddy movie formula follows the typically crafted structure; the two men learn from one another, become friends, face struggles within themselves and their environment. What makes this version fresh is the way they bond, via marijuana and deliberately starting police chases to name a couple of incidents. Among the somewhat ignored socioeconomic inequalities and clichéd events are these two central performances that really make this movie gold. I completely believed in the acting and felt like I was witnessing a deep, genuine connection. It is in what is not said as much as what is said, and I feel this subtlety is what some American critics have missed, and perhaps what made it so popular with the French. It avoids sentimentally and hits truer emotional notes in the process.

I was lucky enough to see this on French DVD months back but from merely writing my thoughts on the film I have decided I must see this in cinemas here before a shameful Hollywood remake appears (which is already in the works). It may have some cinema textbook flaws but with such compelling performances and fine dialogue it often transcends the rigid story we’ve seen over and over. Untouchable is probably the most feel-good film this year, and more so when during the credits we see photos of real-life quadriplegic Philippe Pozzo di Borgo and his carer Abdel Sellou. Not just a fairytale.

Untouchable opens Friday in UK cinemas.

A poem for my mother, July 15 When she was dying And I was in a different country I dreamt I was there with her Flying over the ocean very quickly, And arriving in the room like a dream And I was a dream, but the meaning was more Than a dream has – it was a moving over time And land, over water, to get love across Fast enough, to be there, before she died, To lean over the small, huddled figure, In the dark, and without bothering her Even with apologies, and be a kiss in the air, A dream of a kiss, or even less, the thought of one, And when I woke, none of this had happened, She was still far distant, and we had not spoken.

Poetry vs. Literature

Poetry is, of course, a part of literature. But, increasingly, over the 20th century, it has become marginalised - and, famously, has less of an audience than "before". I think that, when one considers the sort of criticism levelled against Seamus Heaney and "mainstream poetry", by poet-critics like Jeffrey Side , one ought to see the wider context for poetry in the "Anglo-Saxon" world. This phrase was used by one of the UK's leading literary cultural figures, in a private conversation recently, when they spoke eloquently about the supremacy of "Anglo-Saxon novels" and their impressive command of narrative. My heart sank as I listened, for what became clear to me, in a flash, is that nothing has changed since Victorian England (for some in the literary establishment). Britain (now allied to America) and the English language with its marvellous fiction machine, still rule the waves. I personally find this an uncomfortable position - but when ...

IQ AND THE POETS - ARE YOU SMART?

When you open your mouth to speak, are you smart? A funny question from a great song, but also, a good one, when it comes to poets, and poetry. We tend to have a very ambiguous view of intelligence in poetry, one that I'd say is dysfunctional. Basically, it goes like this: once you are safely dead, it no longer matters how smart you were. For instance, Auden was smarter than Yeats , but most would still say Yeats is the finer poet; Eliot is clearly highly intelligent, but how much of Larkin 's work required a high IQ? Meanwhile, poets while alive tend to be celebrated if they are deemed intelligent: Anne Carson, Geoffrey Hill , and Jorie Graham , are all, clearly, very intelligent people, aside from their work as poets. But who reads Marianne Moore now, or Robert Lowell , smart poets? Or, Pound ? How smart could Pound be with his madcap views? Less intelligent poets are often more popular. John Betjeman was not a very smart poet, per se....

E Y E W E A R, THE BLOG - FREEDOM MEANS BEING UNAFRAID TO WRITE WHAT YOU THINK

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