Hipster meat suit: Super 8

You know there’s that one creepy bit in Apt Pupil, a film with more than its share of disturbing symbology, when the young guy makes Ian McKellen put on the SS uniform and perform for him? And how it starts off with awkward pleading, and rapidly becomes something far more serious? Okay, well take that image, and combine it with the skin suit that Buffalo Bill is making in Silence of the Lambs, and you come close to the weird Spielberg/Abrams dynamic in Super 8.

Super 8

It’s a strange affair. So, you have a bunch of kids who are all one dimensional fragments of JJ Abram’s infantile personality, plus Elle Fanning looking weird and intense. They are making a movie, just to prove how meta and intelligent everyone is, and everything is bathed in the unhealthy radioactive glow of nostalgia, except Kyle Chandler who seems to be in a completely different and deathly serious cop movie.

So far, so Stand by Me, until Boom! Train Crash! Boom! Tentacled monster eating people for no real reason!

Sorry if that spoiled the film for anyone, but take a look at Spielberg and Abrams’ back catalogues and examine your own stupidity. This is an entirely predictable outcome of the obsessions of two film making weirdos, like a Klingon dictionary is the inevitable outcome of a childhood deprived of human contact. If you’ve seen a Hollywood blockbuster any time in the last decade, you know what to expect: kid has a tragedy, develops a crush on an unattainable girl, has emotionally distant father, overcomes all these problems while running away from Big Scary CGI Crap.

So why Super 8? Because it’s the camera beloved of cinematically inclined kids and hipsters everywhere. So wear your best lens-less frames and take the fixie bike to the showing for extra points.


  • Random explosions all over the goddamn place
  • Some great spontaneous vomit-acting
  • Kyle Chandler’s steely gaze


  • Dialogue more clunky than a chariot made of rocks
  • Essentially the same action sequence repeated again and again for the last hour of the movie
  • Always with the bloody kids

Bad Bonobo shortlisted for Film London award

Joseph Grimaldi's Grave

Bad Bonobo have made the shortlist for the Hackney Borough Film Fund award, with our latest opus, “The Congregation.” We are overjoyed at being selected, and although we are of course sorry we didn’t win the main prize, we proud that the judges selected our piece from a strong field of rivals.

Our film tells the story of the annual service in remembrance of Joseph Grimaldi, the first clown to perform in make up and turn the tradition of the Commedia dell’Arte into the clowning that we know today. We found the juxtaposition of the mundane Hackney streets and the everyday trials of the clowns’ lives with the exuberant life and comedy expressed through their art amazing, and we think you will as well.

We’ll be featured in the upcoming issue of ‘Hackney Today’, so look out for that. We are also planning some more short documentary work, possibly with the Love Music Hate Racism people, which is a great campaign that everyone should be involved in.

TUC 60 Second Ad Contest – Vote for us!

A moment of your time for a little shameless plugging, if you will.

Bad Bonobo have a new short film, our entry for the Trade Union Congress’ competition to find a 60 second advert for the March for Alternative protest on the 26th.

I think you’ll agree it’s not only politically astute, but heart warming and charming as well:



So get your vote on. And be sure to check out the other entries, there are some beautiful little pieces of work in there.

See you all on March the 26th, we’ll be signing autographs (£10 a go).


The tragedy of Oscar: Inception wuz robbed

I’m with Kermode on this one. Christopher Nolan not being nominated for Best Director in a year in which he made Inception proves what a sham the Academy voting process really is.

Think what you may about the film itself, there can be no denying that of the major Hollywood movies that are in any way capable of winning an Oscar, it is the most highly directed. Not only does it have narrative complexity shooting out of its eyeballs, it also boasts nuanced performances, massive bloated action sequences and a series of intentionally wrenching jumps in style and content.



Tom Hooper, you do not deserve that accolade. Not this year, not for the film that you made. I’m not claiming that The King’s Speech is an awful film, although I do have my political and historical issues with it (in which I find myself in agreement with Christopher Hitchens, yuck). It just does not deserve that particular award, being a piece firmly rooted in the performances of the leads, who richly deserve the approbation of their peers.

Still, at least it beats the usual Oscar fodder. And no Academy Awards has ever again touched the height of farce reached by the 1992 ceremony naming Marisa Tomei Best Actress for My Cousin Vinny. Stupendous.

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