There are a few untouchable givens in the world of film
1. Schindler’s List is a masterpiece (which I disagree with too, but that’s not the point I’m coming to so let’s not go there just now).
2. You can’t criticise dire movies by the likes of Michael (“Armageddon”) Bay and Roland (“Independence Day” -which was actually quite good for the first hour or so) Emmerich because you are told “it’s just a piece of bubblegum -not meant to be taken seriously -leave the brain at the door”. My point on that is, how can anyone say whether they’re any good if their brains had been checked-in at the desk like shoes at a bowling alley?
Picture the scene: Sunday morning -enjoying a dozy rest in the comfort of my own bed, while the children play and fight noisily with each other downstairs, I casually look up to the light straining through the window.
Who do I see there, peering through his camera lens?
Why, it’s only the greatest film director of all time (in my opinion), Mr. Stanley Kubrick himself!
The movie Chitty Chitty Bang Bang contains many unanswered questions (and I am talking here of the movie itself with screenplay by Roald Dahl- not the vaguely-related book by Ian Fleming, nor the more recent stage show), namely
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1. Why is the land of Vulgaria ruled over by a “Baron” of all things?
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2. Why are children banished from the land?
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3. Why is there a thinly-veiled sadomasochistic scene between the Baron and his wife where he tries to kill her while professing his love while she is prancing around in sexy lingerie?
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4. Does she know he is trying to kill her and if so, why does she never acknowledge it?
