There’s a definite theme in this film about “the art of the hack”, and the concept of hacking existing electronic media to make it do things it’s not supposed to, but it doesn’t quite cohere. The editing is a little spotty (there’s one extended shot of the top of a guy’s head, for no reason I could figure out), and there’s at least one interview that I felt was only there for the freakshow factor. That being said, there is a lot of really interesting information—the “cracking” culture of the 1980s, chip music, machinima, video games as art, and the ways in which (to paraphrase one of the interviewees) a previous generation’s limitations become a later generation’s aesthetic choice.

Like any really good documentary, Helvetica is about a lot more than its ostensible subject (the ubiquitous font Helvetica). In tracing its history and usage, the documentary covers the history of modern graphic design, the implications inherent in design, and its use in commerce. It’s very well-edited and paced, and the soundtrack is outstanding in its own right. Highly recommended to anyone with an interest in design.

Somehow posted twice—apologies for the duplicate.

...is a Japanese Paul Verhoeven movie. It’s got exactly the same kind of outrageous, over-the-top satire that you see in “Starship Troopers”, not to mention the same appalling ultraviolence. In both cases you have ideas about violence and retribution pushed as far as the filmmaker can go (and as far as the audience can handle it, and maybe even past that).

Don’t get me wrong; this is a terrible movie by most objective standards (writing, acting, cinematography, etc). But there’s enough interesting ideas and visuals to sustain it, and Michael York is rather appealing in his own bizarre way. And it’s a crucial part of your Post-Apocalyptic Dystopic SF education.

“Run, runner!”

On the continuum of narrative conventionality, let’s put Blue Velvet on the “essentially straightforward narrative” end. Inland Empire goes all the way down on the other side. (Mulholland Drive is on the 2/3 mark towards Inland Empire, and Lost Highway is between those two, and closer to Inland Empire.)

The easiest way to try and “make sense” of Inland Empire is to think of it in much the same way that you think of your dreams when you wake up in the morning. A does not follow on logically to B, but they’re linked through your subconscious associations. Inland Empire is David Lynch and Laura Dern’s dream, rendered on cinema, and that’s what strings the seemingly disparate and incomprehensible elements together.

All that being said, if you’ve got no patience for that sort of thing, give this a miss. Longtime fans of Lynch may find themselves frustrated or bewildered, but not disappointed.

If you enjoyed Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell, you’ll want to read this to get more of Clarke’s marvelous world—if nothing else, her fantasy world-building skills are amazing, and while some people might find her Regency prose pastiche a little precious, I love it (but then, I’m a horrible geek). If the size of the novel is daunting, this is a good place to start for a taster of her work, but it may be richer for those who are already well acquainted with it.

Ah, come on. It’s one of the great movie musicals of all time, and a great piece of filmmaking too.

Anyone who takes food seriously must read this book.

The Meaning of Night is like a darker, more twisted Great Expectations, with a much less sympathetic and more unreliable narrator. There are a lot of layers of backstory and duplicity to be gotten through, and it can try the reader’s patience at times, but in the end, the payoff is excellent, and it’s a strangely satisfying story. The author’s ear for Victorian style is pitch-perfect, as might be expected from someone who’s devoted a lot of scholarly work to the ghost story writer MR James.