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World War Z offers more evidence Hollywood should leave the project managers to Barclays and Coca-Cola

Vanity Fair recently ran a piece on tortured zombie thriller World War Z. Refreshingly free of tabloid metaphor, it shone the light on a movie which had turned out to be spectacularly difficult to create, which resulted in some high up people decided meant that it would arrive at cinemas much like its subject. Cue rewrites, a recut ending and a meeting between actor/backer Brad Pitt and scriptwriter/gun-for-hire Damon Lindelof in a faintly Lynchian sequence.

The main thrust of the article gave precedence to 'budget', 'location' and 'different motivations' as explanatory reasons for the failure of WWZ to successfully coalesce as one piece. A rationale that seems a little out of place for a film and more in keeping with, say, a logistics company, or a multinational media conglomerate.

'Wales? No way am I shooting in Wales!'

Not to be trusted with money by themselves it seems, directors are handed consultant-type figures to refer to in monetary matters. Because of the new 'virgin' talent walking into the industry, often directing films with massive budgets after one or two successful (much smaller) films, their effective handlers keep an eye on times, finances and other such things. One such figures was touted as the man 'who brought Michael Bay in on time and under budget.' You have to wonder what Bay's job is if it isn't splashing enormous sums of cash on special effects (I thought that was his raison d'etre, to be honest) because he's certainly pretty negligent at the directing stuff based on films like Transformers 2.

Why does a film require a project manager? Why do 'budget and logistics' hobble a movie before it has got going? It's pretty much one thing: perception of what its audience wants.

Attempts to create an Eiffel Tower out of people were going well.

It seems that boredom is the ever-present core of movies like World War Z. You can hear marketing, cinematographers and special effects co-ordinators triangulating in on the oversaturated consciousness of the moviegoer. Bored? Look at this! Still bored? We've got more of it, in a different country. Ah, that's perked you up. How about this?

None of this solves a terrible script, and guess what? World War Z hasn't fared well, critically.
Like the 'Z' of the title, it shambles into areas it has no previous experience of and feels patched up - probably because it was written by at least two different people.

But commercially it's done fine - well done to all you second-line departments who came together when the script turned out to be a turkey. And WWZ won't be the last big-budget film ($210-$250 million according to Slate's sources) to swim on its less artistic merits.

Demand v supply is a chicken and egg argument at its heart, but the effect of thousands of extras running up a hill like ants attacking a dead animal in Malta (above) is not necessarily rabid demand for more of the same. But it does involve some difficult decisions being made about who's really making a movie.

Pictures courtesy of io9.com and justjared.com

Les Revenants/ The Returned Ep 3: Julie.

Subtitles distract me from the fact I'm watching adverts. They add a veneer of class. Plus: what I thought of this week's Les Revenants (oooh, c'est tres mysterieux!)

My first thoughts were 'This is probably going to be better than World War Z.' So far, that's held out. They're not zombies, but they are the living dead. So the comparison's fair, in my eyes.

Everyone in the world knows Batman's not a real superhero, it seems. Good work scriptwriters.

Creepy children will be creepy. It doesn't seem to matter how many you see of them, and I saw a lot of J-horror between 2002-2005. Like them, Victor also seems to possess vaguely supernatural powers, but no one is really sure. He does like biscuits, and drawing.

What's that thing on Lena's back?

Sisters Lena and Camille. One of them is dead. It's the one on the right.

Even commonplace devices in supernatural dramas like mirrors are used sparingly here, and in a very matter-of-fact way. Not to say the thing isn't stylish, but it's not explicitly a TV programme you're watching, which is nice considering the faintly baffling subject matter.

How the hell does Thomas have access to all those security cameras? Shouldn't he have a reason for watching this stuff, rather than just snooping on his wife?

There's an implicit sexuality in voyeurism.

Simon is quite a boring dead guy. I preferred the goofy bassist. How come he doesn't have any scars, like Julie? Wasn't he hit by a car?

That priest is a bit too chipper for my liking. Always smiling, even at funerals.

Stop doing that Batman. You're still not a superhero.

This was the episode that became momentarily cinematic, albeit ever-so-subtly. The scene in the hallway of the flats where Julie lives was wonderfully creepy. I even said 'not again' when the hooded guy appeared. Incidentally will the others suffer similar post-trauma flashbacks? That would be interesting.

The final scene: bravo. Camera slowly peeking round corner at the deceased neighbour was horrible yet delicately handled and a clever, sour contrast to the previous three scenes of punchy emotion. Question marks over the perpetrator.

The cockroach. Filed this one alongside the lake's receding waters under 'weird abstract motif'. Don't get it yet, but these snippets are one of the main reasons I keep coming back.

Pictures courtesy of The Daily Telegraph and... erm, The Daily Telegraph.

Deeply Personal.

Some thoughts I had whilst away in Portugal:

1. A holiday is a great way to fish through the waste disposal unit of your personality. I found myself staring into it a few times. There was some junk in there, I won't lie.
2. Categorizing things isn't always the most amenable option to your consciousness (got that joke out of the way early. Does poor timing, explicitly stated, = good timing?)
3. Random Access Memories IS a good record. But not as good as it ought to have been.
4. Expanding a little, the shuffle facility works best when walking through a place you've been many times. For a different atmosphere, select an album prior to every new experience.
5. If Teju Cole thinks cooking is good for the spirit (my term), I'm really happy with that. And I'll be cooking more, better stuff very soon. I might even blog about it.
6. Reading everything is better than reading nothing. My two reads last week: Orhan Pamuk's The New Life and Nancy Jo Sales' The Bling Ring. I enjoyed both enormously, for different reasons.
7. Make a point of turning on yourself regularly. Thoughts get crazy without you there.
8. When holidays make you think of more holidays you know you're in a good place. I made a list. San Francisco, India, Florence and Sydney (again) are on my list. Plus many more.
9. Mexican food is absolutely incredible.
10. Writing less is both good for the spirit - you always finish ahead of time - and forces you (me) to think harder to get what you want out of you. That's rewarding.

Thoughts on Orhan Pamuk

A really fascinating guy to chew over when you've got absolutely nothing else to be concerned about.