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Blood and Gold: The Making of Spain with Simon Sebag Montefiore (2015)
Beautiful filming, terrible direction.
I managed to get through episode one by virtue of the wonderful filming, but half way through the second episode, I had to throw in the towel. Whatever was Marion Milne thinking? Virtually every frame was ruined by the presence of Simon Sebag strolling through it in a mixture of uncomfortable arrogance and am-dram awkwardness, acompanied by an irritating, affected voice. This seems to be the case with so many documentaries, wherein the presenter becomes more visible than the subject matter. Frankly, in a documentary, there is no need for anything other than the presenter's voice. This is in no way a sight on Simon, as I'm sure he was just following direction.
As a side-note, having lived and worked in Madrid for 15 years and being fluent in Castellano, I can say that the Spanish have both a remarkable knowledge of their own history, and an almost exaggerated sense of national pride, having come through a pretty traumatic history; past and recent. I have hiked over 17,000 kilometers of their terrain using there network of routes and spoken to many, many people in every corner of the Peninsular. I would certainly take seriously any Spaniard that took umbrage at any part of the historical data presented.
Nonetheless, beautiful filming by Craig Hastings and team.
The Man from Earth: Holocene (2017)
Being the progeny of a writer does not a writer make.
The three stars are for the three original actors who (foolishly, to my mind) graced this train-wreck with some semblance of authenticity. I can only imagine they felt beholden to the author of the original masterpiece.
There is only one way to watch this movie... by fast-forwarding. If you don't see David Lee Smith, William Kat, or John Billingsley whilst scrubbing through the frames, don't stop.
Terrible, predictable and, frankly, cringe-worthy posing from all the 'toddlers' who should stick to iPhone-selfies and leave 'acting' to those that have some knowledge of the subject.
The 'plot' (I know, I'm a generous person) couldn't have been worse if it had been found in a Christmas cracker.
And they want to make another sequel. Really? And a possible series. Really?
I don't wish to offend, but being the progeny of a writer does not a writer make. To Emerson and Jerome - if you fancy yourselves as writers, write something original and prove yourselves, rather than trash your father's legacy.