Beginners<\/strong> was one of several big budget productions British studio Goldcrest<\/a> had hoped would save it from bankruptcy, but the high cost of The Mission<\/strong> (1986) and the debacle that became Revolution<\/strong> (1985) proved too much, causing the Oscar-larded studio to essentially shutter soon afterwards, although its current corporate entity does pop up now and then with the odd feature film.<\/p>\n Goldcrest was colourfully chronicled by Canadian-born Jake Eberts<\/a> in his massive tome My Indecision is Final: The Rise and Fall of Goldcrest Films<\/strong> (1990), which I read cover-to-cover en route to Germany in 2006. I remember a flight attendant looking with surprise at the fat book I\u2019d dragged onto the plane, and realizing myself how much I\u2019d plowed through a week later, flying back to Toronto.<\/p>\n Eberts, like UA\u2019s Steven Bach<\/a>, was a top executive at the time, but Eberts was also Goldcrest\u2019s co-founder, so the book offered a very unique (and subjective) take on how a company that began with Chariots of Fire<\/strong> (1985) was adversely affected not only by the super-productions it felt were its specialty (like the much-lauded Gandhi<\/strong>), but the very director that earned the company its first Oscar, Chariots<\/strong> and Revolution<\/strong> director Hugh Hudson.<\/p>\n Eberts details the egotism that pushed Revolution<\/strong> into financial bloody red, and the pain in watching the company being kicked closer to the cliff\u2019s edge, whereas Bach chronicled the debacle that was Heaven\u2019s Gate<\/strong> (1980), Michael Cimino\u2019s epic which doomed UA from going over-budget as much as the weak-willed executives who kept writing cheques when teased with Vilmos Zsigmond\u2019s gorgeous cinematography.<\/p>\n Zsigmond, a great Hungarian-American director of photography, also died this month on January 1st. His filmography reads like a critic\u2019s list of top films from the 70s and eighties, but if his commentary track for the low, low budget The Sadist <\/strong>(1963) was an indication \u2013 yes, he really recorded one \u2013 Zsigmond was a down-to-earth, practical man who worked hard to realize the vision of the many esteemed directors with whom he collaborated over his prolific career.<\/p>\n My personal favourite is Close Encounters of the Third Kind<\/strong> (1977) because when the mother spaceship emerges from behind Devil\u2019s Tower, that\u2019s when 9 year old me got up from my seat and stood for the rest of the film, completely in awe of its scope and visual beauty.<\/p>\n Rickman was a hugely versatile actor, and while perhaps better known for the Harry Potter films, he\u2019s still Hans Gruber, the arrogant German bearer bond thief who masterminds a robbery in the Nakatomi building. It is one of the greatest screen villain performances because you really love the son of a bitch \u2013 he\u2019s sleek, modish, witty, and wry \u2013 qualities Rickman brought out from an already witty script and rendered into a bastard that was believable, charismatic, and as satirical as the whole of Die Hard <\/strong>(1988).<\/p>\n You can\u2019t say Hans without adding the \u201cBubby\u201d or \u201cWhite Knight,\u201d and the film made Rickman a pop culture icon for bringing style to a suave common crook.<\/p>\n Rickman\u2019s other beloved role that followed in DH’s wake was in Truly Madly Deeply<\/strong>, a film I\u2019ve still yet to see because like its fans, I\u2019m waiting for MGM to put out a proper Blu-ray. Like 1984<\/strong> (1984), it\u2019s one of those MGM catalogue titles that came on DVD years ago<\/em>, went out of print, and remains a rare and overpriced commodity because it\u2019s been forgotten. If Twilight Time\u2019s recent gift of 1984<\/strong> in a special edition BR is a sign, maybe Rickman\u2019s other beloved film will finally get its due on Blu (and with a cover less ugly than MGM\u2019s original sleeve art).<\/p>\n MGM also released Absolute Beginners<\/strong> on DVD in a flipper widescreen \/ fullscreen edition, and Twilight Time\u2019s BR sports a transfer and soundtrack options that should please its fans. My bias against the film is obvious: as a fan of the novel, it\u2019s a huge creative gamble and misstep; and as much as I wanted to find an unjustly maligned gem, I couldn\u2019t.<\/p>\n But there is that peculiar moment when you first see Bowie as the sleazy, commercially-minded executive grinning over a banister as revelers fill the marble atrium of his multi-storey penthouse. He\u2019s just looking, but his mere presence gives the film a glow, and for a while you hope the natural charisma will push the film into something a bit deeper.<\/p>\n Director Julien Temple<\/a> was one of Britain\u2019s video director wunderkinds, and this was his feature film debut, having directed Bowie\u2019s long-form \u201cJazzin\u2019 for Blue Jean,\u201d the 20 minute short from which the video \u201cBlue Jean\u201d was snipped, and revised Bowie\u2019s stature as a savvy artist who knew how to have fun with the music video format.<\/p>\n Bowie\u2019s \u201cAshes to Ashes\u201d remains a personal favourite because it was featured in a revolutionary show that ran on City TV while I was in junior high school, The New Music<\/a><\/strong>. Before Much Music and the glossy VJ puff pieces on bands, NM was a shiny if not a little grungy hour-long show where bands and musicians from all areas \u2013 fringe, indie, established, up-and-coming \u2013 were showcased, plus music videos. They covered many Canadian artists, and it was a show that balanced information with entertainment, and contextualized music in a manner that was informative, punkish, and neatly packaged for a generation ready to absorb the music video format.<\/p>\n The video still holds its own in spite of being bereft of ADD editing. Its pre-CGI graphics aren\u2019t flashy, but there\u2019s a haunting appeal to the whole production which was reportedly one of the most expensive ever produced at that time.<\/p>\n Made in 1980, it\u2019s videography, solarised colours, and the innate weirdness of costumed figures walking morosely in front of a bulldozer still hold up, mostly because of the perfect tonal balance between images and Bowie\u2019s extraordinary voice, supported by some great synth sounds.<\/p>\n![\"AbsoluteBeginners_poster\"](\"http:\/\/kqek.com\/mobile\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/01\/AbsoluteBeginners_poster.jpg\")
<\/a>I\u2019d actually prepped a review of Absolute Beginners<\/a> <\/strong>(1986), the musical version of Colin MacInnes\u2019 1959 novel, a week ago and fiddled with it over the past few days as it\u2019s a long-overdue Blu-ray edition of a deeply flawed film that doesn\u2019t represent Bowie\u2019s best work \u2013 for that, the more rewarding examples lie in performances in films in which he had central if not starring roles, such as Nicholas Roeg\u2019s The Man Who Fell to Earth<\/strong> (1976) and Nagisa Oshima\u2019s Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence<\/strong> (1983).<\/p>\n