Jasper Sharp : 3D

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“Bigger, better, bolder, back.” The quote by the Sunday Mirror’s Mark Adams prominently emblazoned across the top of the poster for StreetDance 2 3D pretty much tells you all you need to know about the sequel to the surprise hit of 2010, the UK underdog that came from nowhere to gleefully bash such bloated bombs as Ridley Scott’s Robin Hood and Prince of Persia (remember them?) at the box office upon its original theatrical release. Even more revealing is the appearance of the logo for the new BFI Film Fund in the opening credits. This is one of the first titles to receive its lottery funding via the BFI following the abolition of the UK Film Council on 31 March last year (see my original post on this) and, on the surface at least, appears to be pretty much the type of film we all thought David Cameron was crying out for just a few months back – a glossier reprise of a low-budget, high-earning film with mass popular appeal and high export potential. Ken Loach, this ain’t, but it’s a whole lot of fun, nonetheless.

Britain's Got Talent dance troupe Flawless return from the first film for this sequence in Trafalgar Square

Less a sequel than a reboot, the new film clearly has its eye on a bigger market than the UK. Largely eschewing the self-congratulatory back-slapping one would expect from a British film of this nature set in the year of the Olympics (although the London 2012 logo does appear once, in an early dance number set in Trafalgar Square), StreetDance 2 is essentially a tale of two cities, with much of the action ostensibly set in a Paris consisting of smoky bars and underground dance venues, and shabby youth hostel dormitories. There’s only a few choice exteriors to give an indication that even the smallest part of it was actually filmed there, while the vast arena that plays host to the spectacular final tournament is a dazzling, otherworldly CGI creation.

StreetDance 2 star and Will Young looky-likey Falk Hentschel

Not that the British side of things gets very much of a look in, with Nicola Burley’s sassy ‘Sarf’ London cru replaced wholesale by a pan-European posse led by clean-cut American Ash, played by newcomer (and dead ringer for Will Young) Falk Hentschel. Ash’s early-scene humiliation, after challenging London locals Invincible (curiously affecting American accents) to an underground dance-off, sees him ending up flat on his ass and assigned with the sobriquet ‘Popcorn boy’, as well as instilling in him a taste for revenge, fostered through a chance meeting with chirpy chappy Eddie (played by another Britain’s Got Talent alumni, the 2008 winner George Sampson), who offers to manage him. From then on in, it’s a brief hop, skip and jump around the continent as the unlikely pair attempt to put together a team to rescue Ash’s crumpled pride by taking on the arrogant rude boys at the world’s biggest dance competition, Final Clash, to be held in the French capital in but a matter of weeks. Before long the hapless duo are joined by, among others, Tino from Ibiza, Skorpion from the Swiss Alps, a tattooed lass from Amsterdam named Bam-Bam and Terrabyte from Prague, winding up in Paris where they discover the final missing ingredient in the shapely form of sultry salsa-dancing Eva (Sofia Boutella), all black fishnets and booty-shaking action.

Sofia Boutella, a revelation in three dimensions.

Eddie is the first to spot the pouty Parisienne’s potential to add a fiery touch of spice to the urban collective by introducing a more Latin groove to their routine. However, two obstacles stand between Ash’s will-to-power desire for revenge by way of such romantic fusion. The first, Eva’s current partner Lucien, is quickly eliminated, exiting the dance floor with a haughty Gallic shrug after being harangued because he has a girl’s name and his fandango is not quite ‘street’ enough. The second is her fiercely protective Uncle Manu, played by Tom Conti, reprising his Mediterranean shtick from Shirley Valentine (1989). Oh yes, and there’s a third – the chisel-jawed American’s unwillingness to share his moment.

StreetDance 2 lacks the charming naiveté of the first time round, but there’s a spontaneity about these films that makes them, if not hard to criticise, then at least hard to resist. The 3D format almost seems tailor made for its subject, far more so than the sort of macho action spectacles one usually associates it with. Bodies leap and contort rhythmically, in several instances eliciting uniform gasps of amazement from the audience at the screening I attended, while misty swathes of perspiration, dust motes and cigarette smoke accentuate the sense of volumetric space. The path to epic Final Clash might be a familiar one, but it’s exhilarating nonetheless.

Keeping it sexy in StreetDance 2

The portrayal of a new borderless and street-level, multi-ethnic Europe united in a harmonious body politic is also rather fascinating. This is one aimed at the EasyJet rather than the Eurorail generation, with barely a beret in sight, and Tom Conti’s gasping, garlic sausage-guzzling Uncle Manu left as the sole representative of the pre-single currency era. He’s not without a few wise words for the youngsters, too. “Dance with your heart, not with your head”, he advises our headstrong young hero or, translated into their street argot, “Don’t treat your bitch like a ho.” Manu’s role is to sandpaper down the competitive edge off the dancers, reminding them of the central role of passion in performance and exhorting them to temper their more aggressively sexy and confrontational stance with a bit of old-school romanticism – hence the running joke throughout the film of Eva consistently rebuffing Ash’s insistence they share the intimacy of dinner, despite spending hours of practice grinding their thighs together.

StreetDance 2: Beating the Eurovision Song Contest at its own game

The film’s initially conservative-seeming message, of a WASP-ish white boy from the U.S. coming in to rally together the disparate elements of a fragmented Europe with the aid of his British sidekick and lead them unto victory, is turned on its head by the finale. In a film in which the line between text and subtext often seems to strain beneath its gossamer flimsiness, it’s possible to detect a slightly more radical idea, as the pushy outsider effectively learns to subjugate his ego for the good of the collective – in other words, to become more instinctive, and indeed, more European. Now I wonder what David Cameron would make of that?

StreetDance 2 is out in the UK in 2D and 3D on 30 March 2012. For more information, check out the films website www.streetdancethemovie.co.uk.

Back last March, in one of my several posts discussing the pros and cons of 3D, I wrote a brief piece entitled Welcome to the Feelies, inspired by Kenta Fukasaku’s recently-released part-3D erotic thriller Perfect Education: Maid For You. Not even 18 months on and already Fukasaku’s film seems like a dim and distant memory, and quite rightly so one might add, but nevertheless one which it is perhaps worth invoking as Metrodome sits poised to release the Hong Kong production of 3D Sex & Zen: Extreme Ecstasy theatrically across the UK from 2 September.

This new film is interesting in a number of respects, not least in that after the deluge of CGI cartoons and post-produced horror and action movies from the commercial mainstream last year, 2011 has so far seen the release of two noteworthy 3D titles produced outside of Hollywood which have managed to compete successfully in the specialist arthouse market for subtitled films and documentaries. I’m thinking, of course, of Cave of Forgotten Dreams and Pina, both of which were originally conceived of as 3D projects and which attempted to harness the added illusionary senses of depth and volume permitted by the format in a different way than, for example, the 3D mainstream studio releases of this year. You’ll be able to watch the likes of Thor or The Green Hornet ‘flat’ on DVD without losing too much of what was intended from the experience, but I don’t think one can honestly say the same for Werner Herzog’s or Wim Wenders’ films, where 3D is integral to the diegesis.

Sensory overload - Wim Wender's astounding 3D documentary portrait of Pina Bausch's experimental dance troupe

This suggests that, to cite but the one example of the UK’s 19-venue strong arthouse chain Picturehouse (the company also programmes 36 “independent” venues), the exhibition sector sees a future in 3D cinema that goes beyond it being a mere bolt-on gimmick aimed at adding a further layer of lustre to otherwise generic popcorn releases. It also demonstrates that we’re now in an era, unlike the 1950s when the format was first introduced into the mainstream, where 3D production technology isn’t necessarily the exclusive reserve of the capital-rich major studios (although one should note that Bwana Devil was an independent production).

Of course, we’re still getting the usual guff from anti-3D lobby that the medium is beginning to lose its box-office pulling power. A recent article in The Economist entitled ‘Flat expectations: 3D films, cinema’s great hope, have become niche products’ states that ‘Four of the past five 3D blockbusters—“Pirates of the Caribbean”, “Kung Fu Panda 2”, “Green Lantern” and “Harry Potter”—made more money from 2D screens on their opening weekend than from 3D ones.’ It’s worth looking at the wording here, particularly the emphasis on ‘opening weekend’, because a recent article on the latest Pirates of the Caribbean instalment, On Stranger Tides, in the July 2011 edition of Screen International, states that the film, which has already entered the top 10 worldwide grossers of all time, “has made approximately 64% of its international gross from 3D screens.” Even with straightforward Hollywood films, the novelty hasn’t quite worn off.

The contours of Chauvet Cave perfectly preserved in Herzog's Cave of Forgotten Dreams

But it is perhaps in the indie/arthouse sector, far more prone to taking risks than Hollywood and a market in which the majority of viewers prefer to watch films in cinemas rather than home alone, where we’re going to see the most interesting developments in 3D cinema, as Picturehouse must have realised when they acquired Cave of Forgotten Dreams to distribute themselves in the UK (see Screen Daily article here). I should emphasise, I use the word ‘interesting’ in its broadest sense, regardless of the artistic merits of the films in question. What I personally am finding fascinating are the trends in production and distribution of these films in the face of how the evolution of a new cinematic aesthetic is being brought about by developments in its technology, and how this intersects with audiences at the point of exhibition. As I’ve said on numerous occasions, stereoscopic digital 3D might not be the future of cinema, but it is a future of cinema.

As a subtitled film, 3D Sex & Zen already counts as minority interest in English-language markets, although Metrodome’s press notes emphasise the film’s prior successes of sell-out opening weeks in Hong Kong, New Zealand and Australia, and the film taking over $1.1 million on just 6 screens in Australia alone. Of course, there are few genres with greater crossover potential than Orientalist sex movies, you hardly need to tell me that, and the third dimension is hardly going to hamper the film’s box-office potential.

3D Sex & Zen - Asian softcore, always a winner

Still, in terms of ambition as much as execution, 3D Sex & Zen, directed by Christopher Suen, is not only poles apart from the two German auteurs’ recent 3D tryouts, but also from previous milestones in intellectual exotica such as Nagisa Oshima’s In the Realm of the Senses (1976), Peter Greenaway’s The Pillow Book (1996) or even Mira Nair’s Kama Sutra: A Tale of Love (1996). If there was more tittering than genuine titillation in the screening room where I caught a press showing of the film, that’s probably because behind the period detail and sumptuous exotic sets beats the bawdy heart of Benny Hill, with producer Stephen Shiu (also behind the original 1991 film, though not the 1996 and 1998 spinoffs) pitching the film as an erotic comedy, not a highbrow adaption of the seventeenth classic Chinese erotic novel written by Li Yu on which it is loosely based.

The plot, in a nutshell, follows the erotic exploits of a cocksure young intellectual named Wei Yangshang during the Ming Dynasty, who decides to embark on a sensual odyssey when his young bride Tie Yuxiang, the daughter of a Buddhist priest, fails to respond in a suitably enthusiastic manner to his fumbling attempts at lovemaking. It transpires Tie’s lack of bedroom ardour is not entirely her fault, but more down to the stubby, inconsequential dimensions of her husband’s cock, but by the time this has been surgically remedied with the transplant of the somewhat more substantial organs of a donkey, which Wei puts to good use in the Pavilion of Ultimate Bliss in the Prince of Ning’s Tower of Rarities, his beautiful young bride appears to have slipped away beyond his reach.

3D Sex & Zen, "the world’s first 3D erotic film", ish...

I’ve not seen any of the original Sex & Zen films, although they were distributed on video in the UK sometime back, but the brand should be fairly well-known, if only by name and reputation, to most Asian cinema devotees. One thing that interests me is how the film is being promoted by Metrodome as “the world’s first 3-D erotic film”, something which some critics, such as Ben Child for The Guardian (see ‘Chinese 3D porn film may get sequel’ article from 15 April) seem to have taken on trust – although bizarrely the text where he makes this assertion links back to a Hollwood Reporter article by Karen Chu from 14 April (‘No ‘Sex’ for Imax, but ‘3D Zen’ Film Eyes Sequel’, linked here) that repeatedly states it is “the first 3D erotic film from Hong Kong”. Well, in my post from last year, alongside Perfect Education, I also mentioned a couple of other 3D sex movies from the 1960s and 1970s – Al Silliman Jr.’s The Stewardesses (1969) and Pete Walker’s Four Dimensions of Greta (1972) – while I should also add that Koji Seki made a 3D pink film entitled Abnormal Pervert (Hentai-ma) in 1969 and, if one wants to stretch the definition of “erotic film” further, various adult internet sites have been offering 3D services of late. I am sure there are plenty of other examples, but I guess what they mean is that this is the first of the new wave of theatrically-distributed 3D films to sell itself on its sexual content. I’m not sure I’d go as far as to label it a porn film – there’s a lot of nudity there, its true, but no explicit portrayals of sexual activity. Still, I guess the marketing approach has worked – Hong Kong cinema doesn’t otherwise get much coverage in British newspapers nowadays.

When will the ever learn? A medium close up shot in 3D throws the background out of focus

In any measure, while the new Sex & Zen film is certainly not without its points of interest, the 3D element is probably its least satisfactory aspect. Its makers have fundamentally failed to understand what does and doesn’t work in 3D. For a start, the majority of the shots range from mid-shot to close-up, which severely reduces depth of field, throwing the backgrounds completely out of focus and destroying the whole illusion of an existing real space in front of the camera. Related to this, one wonders if 3D is particularly well-suited to erotic cinema in the same way that, for example, the 2.35:1 widescreen ratio, matching the dimensions of the recumbent human body, was to Japanese pinku eiga productions in the 1960s. Unlike the use of 3D in Cave of Forgotten Dreams, which emphasised the textures and curvature of the cave surface under different lighting conditions to give a sense of its dimensions (rather than separating the image into a series of planes of varying degrees of depth as seems to be the case in a lot of films where the 3D is done in post-production), or the arrangement of moving bodies within a tangible physical space of Pina (or even last year’s Streetdance 3D and StepUp 3D), in many of the sex scenes, the points of visual interest represented by the writhing naked bodies are staged at a fixed focal length, up close and personal to the proxy voyeur of the camera, occluding all background elements.

Close up shots in 3D can't even keep the whole body in focus - note the blurred rear-end, and the complete lack of any background detail

At its best, 3D should give the viewer a wider range of possibilities to scan the scene and take in its details, but in these examples, such avenues are totally blocked off, with nothing visible behind the flat planes of foreground nudity. There’s no attempt at staging in depth, of organising different levels of visual stimulus or visual interest along the the Z-axis. Put simply, there’s just nowhere for the eyes to go. A notable shot of one of the actresses thrusting her breasts outwards at the viewer is one of the few in which the 3D aspects are even noticeable, but still the effect is jarring, and comically so.

My own observations based on watching quite a lot of the recent 3D releases, and which I outlined in my recent Shock Labyrinth 3D review on Midnight Eye, is that the format works best when it is least intrusive, with scenes filmed in long shot and in long takes, and the camera moving and choreographed in such a way that the depth planes of the screen are actually exploited to hide or reveal pieces of narrative information. Instead of thinking of what the latest superhero movie is going to look like in 3D, can we imagine what films like Alfred Hitchcock’s Rope might look like? In an interview published in Sight & Sound in April, Werner Herzog stated “this is my dictum: you can shoot a porno film in 3D, but you cannot film a romantic comedy in 3D.” I, however, would like filmmakers to use more imagination, because on the evidence of my viewing, it is when 3D is used for spectacle that the illusion of cinema breaks down. 3D might turn out to be intrinsically unsuitable for porn or actions films, but if used subtly and intelligently, it may be better suited for thrillers and comedies.

One way of keeping everything in focus in mid shots is to block off the background - but then, why use 3D in the first place if you're not going to make use of screen depth?

What 3D does is essentially make us question the very definition of ‘realism’ in cinema, further complicating an already contentious field of argument. Pornography trades upon this idea of “realism”, or hyper-realism; that we’re seeing “more” of the object than we might in real life, from all angles, inside and out, and the more we are shown, the more we want to see. This desire for complete visual knowledge, both to get beneath the skin of the subject so to speak and ‘consume’ it in its entirety, is certainly not limited to pornography, but has been the driving force for advances in film technology and in particular films that celebrate this technology – Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within and Avatar are perfect examples, where immersive cinematic worlds are created that challenge the viewer to scrutinise them from every angle. If knowledge is power, then one might say this is indeed empowering for the viewer, but it can be frustrating too, as one is always aware that at the heart of these ‘realistic’ portrayals of unrealistic worlds is spectacle and showmanship, something which I argued in my first Cinematism, Realism, and Spectacle posting inspired by my viewing of Cameron’s film. I also reviewed a book, Akira Mizuta Lippit’s Atomic Light (Shadow Optics) for Midnight Eye a few years back (follow link here) that explored some of these various ideas surround cinema’s ability to visualise the invisible, and how technology has been developed to pander to our overwhelming quest for visual knowledge. So in this sense, we might agree with Herzog’s comments about 3D being perfectly suited for pornography, in that pornography is presented as a spectacle that appeals to the viewer to consume visually its subject in its entirety.

But there’s another kind of realism that 3D, and 3D alone, is more ideally suited to satisfying, which is providing a perfect representation of the profilmic scene with its dimensions preserved intact while suppressing any awareness on the part of the viewer of the technology used to create the illusion. Traditional “flat” cinema, no matter how ‘realistic’ it strives to be, cannot do this because ultimately we are always aware that the images we are watching are 2-dimensional projections in which a certain amount of spatial information has been inevitably lost (think of something like Sokurov’s Russian Ark). When we watch Pina, we are not being dazzled by the 3D spectacle of the film itself, but the faithfully reproduced performance within the film. Similarly, what is impressive in Cave of Forgotten Dreams is the Palaeolithic cave art rendered onscreen with a perfect fidelity to the original cave surface containing the drawings; the camera is the proxy for the viewer, taking us into spaces we cannot ourselves go. In both cases, it is what is in front of the camera that is important, not the post-production editing work that manipulates the spatial and temporal flow of the profilmic scene.

3D Sex & Zen, ultimately not unlike a conventional 2D film

While 3D film, and indeed cinema in general, has historically traded upon showmanship and spectacle, to my mind these examples show that the best examples of 3D occur when the techniques unique to cinema that have evolved over the past hundred or so years, of editing and switching between different viewpoints and different length lenses for dramatic effect, are as much as possible eradicated. Instead, filmmakers working in 3D might do better concentrating on reproducing a scene as if it were being witnessed live by the viewer sitting in their cinema seats. A new set of rules, a new set of challenges, but it is going to be really interesting to see whether there’ll be films in the coming years that explore the potential of the format more satisfyingly.

3D Sex & Zen isn’t a film that pushes any envelopes in this respect, it’s true, but just as one might argue that the 3D adds very little to the film, the flipside is that it won’t lose anything by being viewed flat either. At the end of the day, it’s an entertaining enough period sex romp with a ribald sense of humour and an acute awareness of its place in the market. As such, it makes for a good pre-pub evening out, and personally I thought found the penis transplant scene pretty damn funny…

It’s much, much later than planned, but here’s the second instalment of my report on Bradford Film Festival’s Widescreen Weekend… It already seems such a long time ago, as the weather has undergone a miraculous transformation in the meantime, but here seems as good a time as any to point out that my intro to Dersu Uzala is now online on the in70mm website. But anyway, onto Day 2.

It is no real surprise that a festival devoted to widescreen cinema should feature such epic films as those mentioned in my previous post, monumental works by the likes of David Lean and Akira Kurosawa that seek to overwhelm the viewer with their sheer sense of scale and in which landscape plays a crucial role. Adventure films, war films, religious epics and period dramas – these are the genres traditionally favoured by those who choose to work on such large canvasses. The second day of the festival, however, featured two titles that initially seemed rather misplaced; one, a children’s fantasy film realised with puppets, and the other an 85-minute concert film featuring artists from one of British pop history’s most unassuming of genres. Nostalgia played a role in my appreciation of both, but it certainly wasn’t the only factor.

The Skeksis lock swords in The Dark Crystal, in 70mm.

I saw The Muppet Show-creators Jim Henson and Frank Oz’s The Dark Crystal when it came out back in 1982. I’d have been about eleven or twelve at the time, and I can pretty much guarantee that the print the Astor Cinema in Barnstaple played would not have been a 70mm one. I probably saw it a couple of times on TV back in the 1980s, but I think it’s fair to say that this is a film that has pretty much receded back into the mists of time for me. Given how we’ve become so accustomed to CG over the past decade, I’d geared myself up to be pretty disappointed by its use of old-school live-action puppetry upon its Saturday morning airing in Bradford (ostensibly a Kids Screening ticketed at a give-away quid a kid, although the audience seemed predominantly made up of Widescreen Weekend passholders at the other end of the age spectrum).

Jen the Gelfling, in the undergrowth of The Dark Crystal's lush and detailed world.

I was pleasantly surprised at how well the film held up to scrutiny. OK, so the story is basically Lord of the Rings-Lite and the general approach to it as portentous as any other fantasy made in the 1980s, but the general look of the film was as impressive as ever, benefiting from its mist-shrouded locations and atmospheric background mattes rather than the hyper-real sheen of, for example, Peter Jackson’s takes on Tolkein – and without such moments of video-game action silliness as the scene in Jackson’s third film of Legolas bounding up the Oliphaunt’s leg. I kept looking for the strings on its Gelfling main characters of Jen and Kira, but The Dark Crystal successfully managed to pass off its illusion. The other thing I loved about it, apart from the fact that the characters all had British accents, was the level of periphery detail, especially in the forest scenes, which teem with all sorts of bizarre critters who pop out of holes or flounder around in swamps, filmed in a surreal but witty manner that recalls a puppet version of the weird nature documentaries of Jean Painlevé. Doing a bit of background research, I noticed a sequel was announced just last year, which is to be filmed in 3D. I’m not sure whether I should laugh or cry, but anyway, I did enjoy my 70mm reacquaintance with the original immensely, so I’ll be following the news on the upcoming film’s website with some interest, and while I can safely say that I’ll never see the film looking as good as it did on its wide-gauge projection on the massive screen of Bradford’s Pictureville cinema, I should point you in the direction of the Region Free Blu-Ray of the film which can be currently had for a mere £6.99 on Amazon.

Puppetry in motion - The pre-CG world of The Dark Crystal.

What I love most about film festivals is that thrill of stumbling upon absolute gems where you’d least expect them. I wasn’t sure what to expect from Dance Craze (1981), mainly because I’d barely registered its presence until I looked at the catalogue to see what the next screening held for me. The lack of stills in the Bradford International Film Festival catalogue meant it didn’t exactly leap out from the line-up, but at the end of the day, not only was it the highpoint of the weekend for me. I honestly don’t think I’ll see another film this whole year that will put such a huge smile on my face and keep it plastered there, not just for its hour-and-a-half duration, but for the entire week after. Dance Craze was ineffably brilliant, a bare bones concert film featuring the top talent ska bands of the era, The Beat, The Specials, The Selector (my favourite), The Bodysnatchers (no, I don’t remember them), and Madness and Bad Manners, before they both degenerated into the Top-of-the-Pop silliness I remember them for (a fate avoided by the first four bands, who either split up, renamed or regrouped before we had a chance to get bored of them). A number of people I’ve subsequently spoken to remember the tie-in Dance Craze album released by Chrysalis, but it seems hardly anyone remembers the film itself.

Dance Craze, not screened since the days you could buy a soundtrack album on vinyl for only £3.49 AND get a free poster!

So why the hell had I never heard about it before? Well, the lack of suitable venues with the facilities to project it seems to be the main reason. According to cinematographer Joe Dunton, who was not only on hand to introduce the film, but his illuminating onstage interview with Thomas Hauerslev following the screening can be found here on in70mm.com, a decision was made to produce the film in 70mm (or more accurately in SUPER 35, which was then blown up to 70mm), in order to exploit a format that seemed in danger of going out of fashion, as the declining fortunes of the film industry in the late-1970s saw a general retrenchment of the type of films Widescreen Weekend celebrates in the wake of the new phenomena of winner-takes-all blockbusters like Jaws, Star Wars and Grease. As Dunton explained, “I then had the idea to make a film that was not ‘a third row film’, – not shot from the audience, from the third row; everyone shot concert films from the third row, and it does not mean anything, and because the bands were young bands I ended up being on stage with them.” While Joe Massot, who had helmed the Led Zeppelin concert film The Song Remains the Same (1976) is credited as director, the heavy use of Steadicams operated by an onstage Dunton means it was more likely he who really controlled the show – if we can indeed say that, as he’s so close up to the action (including some a few pretty rowdy stage invasions) he often feels like another organic component of the bands, one of the musicians himself, and very much a part of the onstage madness. It is this up-close-and-personal style that makes the film such a joy, as well as the sheer exuberance of the songs themselves, gems such as The Specials’ “Too Much Too Young”, The Beat’s “Mirror in the Bathroom” , The Selector’s “On My Radio” and Madness’ “One Step Beyond”.

Coventry's finest, The Selector, in Dance Craze as screened at Widescreen Weekend. As you can see, the print has deteriorated a little, and is a tad pink-tinged. Photo taken by Thomas Hauerslev and originally appearing on the in70mm.com website.

So as far as I could work out, this was the first screening of Dance Craze in the UK pretty much since it came out, as there have simply been no prints available to screen from except the one in Dunton’s possession. Sure, it has circulated on bootleg video, DVD and now online, but lets put it plain and simply, these versions look and sound shit, and Dunton himself seems pretty annoyed that a film that was meant to be so immersive has been put out illegally in such inferior copies. He did hint that he was going to make a digital version, possibly for Blu-Ray release and for film festivals, and I really pray that he does. As he said, this film was not made for television, and works optimally on as large a screen as possible. What I think would be amazing is to do this as an outdoor screening with all seats removed and the volume pumped up as loud as possible so audiences can just mosh along to it. Not only are there no concert films quite like it, but it captures a uniquely English form of music at a unique time in British history, when you first saw black and white musicians onstage together, when it was still possible to smoke onstage, and when bands could pack out sizeable concert venues without all the Simon Cowell glitz and flimflam, performing on basic, unadorned stages and with little division between the bands and the audiences.

Latterly known as The English Beat, these guys were sitll very much The Beat at the time of Dance Craze.

So I’ll just end by saying, I don’t know whether Dunton will hold true to his promise of striking up a new digital print of the film, but if there are any interested film festivals, venues or distributors out there who are interested, heh, do you fancy getting together and lobbying for this to happen? It’s simply too depressing to imagine I might never see the film again as it should be seen, on the big screen, and I really think there are a lot of people out there who would appreciate it being resurrected for other festivals.

As you can read on the in70mm.com profile on him here, Joe Dunton is actually a pretty legendary figure in film technical circles, having come up with numerous inventions to do with video assists, cranes, lenses and eye-pieces that have revolutionised the industry, and for this reason, he was given his Widescreen Academy Award just after the screening. In my next update, I’m going to move on from discussions of widescreen to multi-screen, and the innovations of another living legend of British cinema, Stanley Long.