Daaaa-da, daaaa-da...dum-dum,dum-dum,dum-dum,dum-dum.....etc.

Pictured above is my humble tribute to one of the greatest motion pictures ever made, "Jaws". 

The timeless, classy menace on display here has never waned...it's as relentlessly entertaining now as it was the day it was released. It's legendarily troubled production history (documented superbly in "The Shark is still Working", available on the BluRay release) did not diminish it's impact or legacy one jot. 

Graced with three of the finest acting performances ever to fill the silver screen. The triumvirate of Robert Shaw, Roy Scheider and the impish Richard Dreyfuss, create a believable chemistry amid the mayhem. Their studied, pin sharp performances leap from the screen and command one's attention, especially in the quieter passages.

As an entity, "Jaws" grabs it's audience by the throat and, by turns, throttles and beguiles them into believing every step of this monumental odyssey. Even when the, patently fake, shark does appear...we're still chilled to the bone, such is the mastery of Spielberg's craft. That he was not even nominated as Best Director at the 48th Academy Awards is a travesty of the highest order.

"Jaws" is a testament to art of old Hollywood...striving to tell a great story no matter what the odds. An art that has been subsumed, in recent years, in favour of brainless bombast that numbs the senses and confounds the emotions.

That it was made at all is a miracle, that it was made so well...ah, that's Mr Spielberg folks!

Excelsior Out!

Sweet Caroline

With the great Ray Harryhausen leaving us recently my mind has been wandering back through his classic movies. I have a special place in my affections for "The Golden Voyage of Sinbad" for a variety of reasons. Ray's outstanding work comprise most of them, but the stunning Caroline Munro also looms large. She is, without doubt, my first crush.

As a kid I remember seeing her on Lamb's Navy Rum posters and thinking "Hmmmm...who's that girl?". Then later, seeing her light up the screen as slave girl Margiana, I was hooked forever. She continues to captivate, even today, with a timeless modern beauty that successive generations of movie goers will fall for, again and again.

A staple of the festival/convention circuit I hope she feels the love out there for her, and finds joy in the high regard in which she's held. I know that the impact she had on the 12 year old me was profound, and wonderful, and for that I thank her profusely.

Excelsior out!

A Titan has walked among us.

When the father of modern special effects, and the architect of my childhood imagination, dies it's a "stop all the clocks" moment, as far as I'm concerned. 

The uniquely great Ray Harryhausen died on the 7th May this year, aged 92.

He stands alone in modern cinema as an auteur, innovator, craftsman, technician and dreamer. A special effects master whose name alone could sell a picture. In that respect he's up there with Hitchcock, both their visual stamps can be recognised from viewing a mere handful of frames from any of their oeuvre. This, coupled with his multi-generational influence on filmmakers, technicians and artists the world over, make his contribution to the fabric of cinematic universe virtually incalculable.

Watching the brilliant new documentary "Ray Harryhausen:Special Effects Titan" (in which every major film maker in the last 30 years get down on their knees and worship him) you are struck by just how much of a singular operation Ray's was. From designing and building the creatures (and sets) to operating his own camera and effecting his own in camera matte work; his artistic vision infused absolutely every frame of film.

The kids and I met him at a book signing in 2003 (see phone pic attached). We waited patiently in a long line of devotees. When our turn came I was shaking, heart pounding. I shook his hand and thanked him for my career as a professional Illustrator. A quizzical look from Ray, at first, but then I explained that the first things I ever drew, as a child, were his creatures.  He was delighted and as gracious as you would imagine him to be. 

When we left the Cinema Store, on St Martin's lane, it was a few moments  before I realised that I'd been crying, that was the power of the man and his work. I weep for him still.

In the coming months the movie business had better collectively doff it's cap...or it'll have me to answer to.

Thank you Ray...thank you so very very much...no finer technician...no more wonderous nor humble artist ever lived.

Amen.