Then there are the ones who find the film dated, London too empty & the main character a horrible nasty. Well folks, it's true there are no friendly wizards, cute goblins or funny ogres in this one, so it may taste like harsh medicine to some. But Blow-Up was a real slice of the 1960s, take it or leave it. Not just the "life-style" (clothes, decor & behavior) which is perfectly rendered (& is probably what dates the film the most) but the sheer fragmentation of time & space, of event & response. This was Antonioni's particular area of expertise: space & emptiness filled with random human collisions supposedly suffused with "meaning".

Well, we certainly have adopted different attitudes today, haven't we? Everything with its socio-political subtext. The big problem, I think, with a movie like Blow-Up is that it doesn't easily let you pick which Side to Be On. It's very European in that way (Old Europe, to use current parlance).

Hey folks, when you look at a De Chirico (you should, you know), do you find the streets too empty, the perspectives too stark & arbitrary?

Worth the admission price (Rating: 4.00)
Review : Blow Up's plot unravels quite slowly by contemporary standards. Indeed, it probably unravels quite slowly by any standards. If you've seen any other Antonioni films, you'll know that the man was not principally interested in plot. Indeed, Blow Up doesn't have much of a plot.

None of this matters, because the film presents a convincing study of a time, a hedonistic life-style, and an attitude: in some ways it can be compared with La Dolce Vita; both about photographers, both quite drawn-out, both critical of hedonism, both quite impressive.

One could argue that Blow Up is dated; it is very 1960's, very "swinging London", very hep - and some of the material in it that caused controversy at the time (Principally its brief nudity) wouldn't make a viewer blink now.

But it presents us with an interesting portrait of a period, and a "scene" that could only have existed in that brief moment before the 60's turned into the 70's and this particular brand of "youth culture" was forever lost. And it is convincingly well-made. It isn't Antonioni's best movie, but it's not far off.

David Hemmings is, as usual, top drawer as the almost-thuggishly bored, scowly fashion photographer, and the supporting cast are all fine.

Don't buy it ahead of Antonioni's The Passenger, which is the superior film and arguably a masterpiece, but do take a look. It's worth the admission price if you're in the mood for it.

Antonioni's Most Accessible Film (Rating: 4.00)
Review : Mid-way through this arresting 60s classic is a scene where David Hemmings, playing a somewhat disaffected and selfish photographer, goes to a rock club to listen to the Yardbirds. As he covets EVERYTHING he sees (boy wouldn't this prove to be cultural prophecy?), he goes out of his way to get hold of the arm of a smashed guitar, only to realize he doesn't know what it is FOR or WHY he really wants it.

Such are the people who populate BLOW UP and the bulk of Antonioni films: modern people who don't look inside much, adrift in consumerism and pop trash, bumping from one sensation to the next. Interwoven into this quagmire of sleeping souls is a non-plot about perception and the "nothing is what it seems" theory that ranks up there with Roeg in content if not pizzazz, and that went on to have its bones picked by Coppola and DePalma in "The Conversation" and "Blow Out" respectively.

BLOW UP is a curious time capsule: we see the incursion of the middle East into London, fashions so old they look new; Herbie Hancock's still-hip organ-based jazz themes which have already been redone by acid jazz groups and sampled by Dee-Lite; Veruschka looking very svelte and sexy; and David Hemmings as handsome as he would ever be. Sure, Antonioni's only weakness was wrapping up the last 30 seconds of his films, and that flaw surfaces here with the mime troupe as it does with the last oblique images of "The Eclipse", but I still want this one on DVD, anyway.

Blown Away! (Rating: 4.00)
Review : This movie is a gem. Not only is a fantastic film, but music fans will love the cameo by The Yardbirds. And, it was an interesting cameo. This was during the Jeff Beck era, when the band was riding high on their biggest success. And, Beck recruited his childhood friend to play in the band as well, Jimmy Page. The cameo is almost worth the price of owning the film, since their performance of "Stroll On" (which would later become their legendary track "Train Kept-A Rollin'" was during a time when both guitar legends were in the band. Afterward, Beck would be ousted, and pursuing his own projects, and Page would become the foreground of The Yardbirds, as they slowly evolved to Led Zeppelin. Their performance was as raucous as they were known for, with Beck smashing his guitar, and beating his amp. A great moment in rock & roll, captured in a motion picture, forever.

As for the movie itself, it is one of the greatest films put to tape. David Hemmings plays one of the most arrogant, demanding, and frankly vulgar photographers portrayed on screen. He is wealthy, successful, and quite popular, and apparently it went to his head. The man has enough gall to actually grab a model's leg, and slam it into the position he expected her to put it. And, to an aspiring model, requesting a tryout, all he could say to her is "...get rid of that bag! It's diabolical!"

His personal and professional life is changed forever when he meets a lady in a park, played by Vanessa Redgrave. Redgrave is as alluring and mysterious as I have ever seen her. And, she leads the photographer into a combination of danger and opportunity, as he discovers, pictures he took of her and a man in the park reveal a murder.

Not a dialogue heavy film, most modern conterporary film watchers could sit through this. (Meaning: if you liked Titanic, it's not for you.) But, who cares! It wasn't made for them anyways. The imagery, photography, and use of physical expression all add up to some of the best cinematography I have ever seen. This film is enough to prove to me a good movie need not have CGI nor stunts.

The picture literally tells the story, and I can be pleased knowing that this film centers around 60s mod London. It captures many moments in history that are special. And, the story itself justifies the hype.

Now, where is that DVD remaster?

Never ceases to fascinate! (Rating: 5.00)
Review : I used to check out the video of this from my local public library (not the kind of thing one finds on the shelf at Blockbuster), and found myself going back to it again and again, over time. I was drawn into its pace, its quiet, its wandering. Now, the DVD - not a perfect package, certainly, but well worth the price. Cheap-o case, slim "extras" - what the hell is with that "music-only" soundtrack, anyway? It really is just the visual of the film playing with the added music (what little there is), no dialog or other sounds, not even the Yardbirds stuff!

While the audio commentary is potentially off-putting (be prepared for obligatory academic fussing about male dominance, "male gaze" etc), the guy manages to stay focussed on what's on screen at the moment, and even comes through with a few worthwhile observations - particularly the film's motif of things losing their meaning when placed out of context (the one photo left behind after the burglary, the broken guitar fretboard taken from the club). While a regular viewer might observe the photographer being kind of snippy (and - gasp! - rude) toward his models, the critic complains of his "brutal" treatment of women; when Hemmings is taking pictures of Veruschka, and then stops when he feels he's done taking pictures, our audio professor sniffs at the photographer/male oppressor using and discarding the poor, sensitive, victimized model. Sheeesh! What was he supposed to do, cuddle her?

I suppose it is a relevant topic in the context of Antonioni's other work, but the guy takes too much delight in skewering the main character, who we are supposed to like, after all. (Pretty much the same thing happens with the critc's commentary on the Criterion DVD of "Straw Dogs").

Overall though, the commentary is not too intrusive, and the more relevant insights, and the power of the film itself, offset any rhetorical groaners one might hear. I'm not sure if I ever noticed the apparent glimpse of the Vanessa Redgrave character on the street at night, quickly vanishing in the crowd. The use of the director's camera-eye to separate itself from the main character's point of view is another element to the sense of mystery. About the only moment in the film that doesn't ring true for me is the catatonic audience at Ricky Tick's - one cannot listen to the Yardbirds (live, no less) in such a state.

WARNING - DEFECTIVE AUDIO (Rating: 1.00)
Review : DESPITE LOTS OF EFFORT, TROUBLE-SHOOTING, AND ASSISTANCE FROM HIGH-TECH-PROFICIENT FRIENDS, I HAVE BEEN UNABLE TO GET THE AUDIO TRACK FOR THIS FILM TO PLAY. I HAVE HAD NO SIMILAR PROBLEM WITH ANY OTHER DVD I OWN OR HAVE RENTED. SO BE WARNED, DO NOT PURCHASE THIS DVD UNLESS YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN THAT YOUR DVD-PLAYER WILL PLAY IT. [Ironically, all the other special features on this DVD, including the trailers and a voice-over commentary track, have fully-functional audio tracks. It's just the main feature - THE FILM ITSELF - that has no audio!]

The Antonioni step (Rating: 5.00)
Review : A phothographer (David Heminngs) gets a slapshot and he believes there's a murder in that picture.
The reality is elusive , and watch about your senses seem to reveal you . Nothing is like it seems . The hidden message underneath the script .
Antonioni has beencalled the master of the silence . And in this case , in his first american film he challenges our ancient beliefs , what we usually mean as common sense . What's the truth and where does it begin our disturbed or prejuiced perceptions about the real world . Obviously there's a bit message aboutthe drugs world in this statement.
The ending sequence in what we see? a mude tennis game is not pnly a sincere tribute to the timeless genius of the mimo art - Marcel Marceau - , but a clear reference about we state as truth many times what other senses vaguely pretend establish .