Ada (Holly Hunter), the protagonist of Jane Campion’s 1993 Palme D’or winner, The Piano, is a triple threat to the 1800s society she’s born into. Not only is she a single mother, she’s also a mute, but doesn’t have the ‘decency’ to be ashamed of it. Ada’s “voice” is her piano; a tool that allows her to express herself to the world, and she’s staunchly reluctant to communicate with others in the way they want her to.

As such, she is shipped off to marry New Zealand pioneer Alisdair (Sam Neill). Alisdair’s puritanical nature sees his new wife’s prize possession as an entirely infrugal item and leaves it dumped on the beach where it landed. His thuggish, ex-pat Maori manservant (Harvey Keitel) retrieves it and offers to let Ada play it, on the condition that she allows him to sexually molest her while she does.

So far, so plight of the underdog, but the film goes off the rails somewhat as the abuse of Ada begins to take on a romantic tone and a relationship develops at the expense of Ada’s marriage and her daughter (Anna Paquin). The message seems to be that there are men willing to give women or the disabled the opportunity to speak, but only if they sell their bodies.

The film builds to a tragic and violent climax before ending with a coda that isn’t so much ambiguous as inexplicable. Still, the performances by the leads are nothing short of staggering – particularly Hunter and Paquin – and rightly drew Academy attention on release. Clearly a masterpiece, but a flawed one.

Extras

Despite the notoriety of the film, the Blu-ray release is light on extras. There’s a very long interview with writer/director Campion about her process, with a quick chat with the producer Jan Chapman at the end. The interview has very little to do with the meat of the film and while Campion is friendly and open, this is more of an insight into her personality than her work.

Elsewhere, there’s a short documentary about the making of the film that’s more focused, but no more insightful. Lastly, Campion and Chapman offer the obligatory commentary. Here they pretty much repeat what was said in their respective interviews with little reference to what’s happening on screen and, again, it’s more of an introduction to the people involved rather than a guide to the issues and intricacies of the plot.

Neil has awarded The Piano (1993) on Blu-ray three Torches of Truth

Imagine, if you will, a leisurely stroll through a picturesque landscape in the French countryside; the vista is a vision, the ambience tranquil. This is largely how one feels when in the company of Maurice Pialat’s ruminative biopic the famous Dutch painter, Van Gogh (1991), which has been exceptionally restored for its Blu-ray release as a part of the Masters of Cinema series.

The film refuses the temptation of a cradle-to-grave biopic in favour of a melodic evocation of the post-impressionist’s final weeks. Van Gogh (Jacques Dutronc) arrives in the provincial commune of Auvers-sur-Oise to convalesce in the care of Dr. Paul Gachet (Gérard Séty). His condition scarcely improves, however, and psychological issues are intertwined with a life of squalor, a parade of women and a predilection for morose introspection.

The ashen hue is predominantly metaphorical, though, with the cinematographer capturing the artist’s exquisite eye and providing sumptuous visuals in abundance. Almost every frame looks like it was, or should have been, a Van Gogh work.

The eponymous Vincent is interpreted by Dutronc with an ambiguity that is both enthralling and frustrating. The iconic moments of his life are barely mentioned; audiences are left to decipher his inner anguish from gestures which are unquestionably subtle. Only later, through his turbulent relationship with brother Théo (Bernard Le Coq), does the looming spectre of Vincent’s professional failings reveal its lengthy shadow over the artist’s mind.

Extras:

The release is brimming with extras as is always the case with Eureka’s impressive MoC label. The wealth of additional bonus material comprises of two interviews with Pialat himself as well as interviews with Dutronc and Le Coq, cinematographer Emmanual Machuel and editor Yann Dedet. In addition are deleted scenes, a theatrical trailer and Pialat’s documentary short, Van Gogh, from 1965.

One of the highlights of a Masters of Cinema release is the booklet and this one is no exception. Sabrine Marques provides an insightful perspective on the kindred spirits of the subject and creator, echoed by the fact that some of Pialat’s own canvases are also featured.

Along with further words from the director, perhaps the most endearing inclusion is a letter to the director from one Jean-Luc Godard which describes Van Gogh’s cinematography as “far beyond the cinematographic horizon covered up until now by our wretched gaze.”

Ben has awarded Van Gogh three Torches of Truth

23 years ago King of New York had its world premiere. Mark Searby revisits this often overlooked classic and discusses why it’s still worth pulling off the DVD shelf more than 20 years down the line.

For more New Empress Video Blogs click here.

The latest New Empress Magazine video blog raises questions about the impact of censorship and classification on the action genre. Although many might argue that the introduction of the 12A has meant decline and dilution for the action genre, this issue isn’t as recent as some believe. Furthermore, the 12A doesn’t necessarily mean that all action films are being dumbed down; there are releases in the last year which rebel against this idea. Click below to watch the latest video blog and find out more.

To read more about violence in the 12A movie-verse click here.

Issue 10 is now available to order.  As our magazines sell out within weeks of going on sale we recommend ordering to avoid disappointment. Our theme this issue is Time in Film and consequently you’ll be able to read up on how plausible film time travel techniques actually are, the role of stopped clocks in the movies, what Virginia Woolf thought of cinema in the 1920s and enjoy a special section that looks decade by decade at 20th Century Cinema – from its silent origins to its blockbusting finale.

Alongside our time-related features you’ll also find a smattering of topical articles including a 2-page preview outlining the must-watch films this summer, some musings on potential story lines for Jurassic Park IV, interviews with independent filmmakers, reports from special film events and our very own tribute to the seemingly untouchable Benedict Cumberbatch. All this and words from all our regular columnists that you know and love.

Issue 10 will be shipped to subscribers and buyers on 20th June 2013.

Click here to order issue 10

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This week New Empress Magazine is celebrating 2 years in print. Since our humble A5, quarterly beginnings in 2011 we’ve grown into an A4 bi-monthly publication that offers informative and creative articles on a truly diverse array of films and cinematic eras. We’ve had a wicked time featuring flicks you may not know about and the people you’ve probably never heard of. Hopefully you’ve enjoyed it too.

To celebrate our second year in print we’ve put together a new video blog featuring an interview with Editor in Chief, Helen Cox. She explains how and why she started the magazine and expresses thanks to readers for their support over the last two years.

Click here to watch our latest video blog.

Click here if you’d like to subscribe and support our magazine.

Multiply a heist film by a disaster flick, divide by Christian Slater (and Morgan Freeman in brackets) and what’s your answer? Hard Rain. When this formula was floated around the office, studio execs would be forgiven for assuming that it would all add up to pots of cash. For reasons that are not entirely clear, however, Hard Rain was a complete box office wash out and in many regions went straight to video.

The narrative follows armoured truck driver Tom (Christian Slater) who is ambushed by by Jim (Morgan Freeman) and his band of robbers during the worst ever recorded rainstorm in the Midwest. In the process Tom’s Uncle Charlie (Edward Asner) is shot dead and he stashes the money to prevent the robbers getting what they came for. Jim’s retirement hinges on this plan, however, leaving him unwilling to jump ship despite the rising water, and tension, levels.

Produced by Mark Gordon and written by Graham Yost, who worked on Speed, Hard Rain has a lot of the same hallmarks as that famous Keanu action-fest. On release Time Out even went so far as to call it a ‘spiritual sequel’ to Gordon and Yost’s previous outing and they weren’t far off.  The villains’ motives are carefully thought through, all major characters, including the female lead who is in this case Minnie Driver, are given agency and every time the good guys think their luck is improving another obstacle is planted in their path. Hard Rain also boasts a slick twist in the third act that really sets it apart from average multiplex action fodder.

Why then does it have a 26% fresh rating on Rotten Tomatoes? Why didn’t the praise come flooding in? Difficult to say. This isn’t by any stretch a perfect film, but it does have a lot going for it in the entertainment stakes. It is, sadly, likely to be the British backing that left Hard Rain dead in the water.

This film received funding from a range of sources to secure a release, including the BBC, and is thus categorised as an American/British production. Film criticism isn’t on the whole very kind to, or very interested in, British film that isn’t part of the accepted canon which means that a lot of perfectly decent films sink without a trace. Hard Rain was one such wreck.

Should it resurface on a film channel or a bargain bin near you, dive in. Christian Slater drives a jet ski and everything.

Just as the National Lottery launched in the UK, and every man, woman, child and dog began heated discussions about how they’d spend their winnings, a sweetly-scripted romance starring Nicholas Cage, Bridget Fonda and Rosie Perez hit the big screen. It Could Happen To You is actually based on a real-life incident that occurred in 1984. New York cop Robert Cunningham suggested to waitress Phyllis Penzo that instead of leaving her a tip he should buy a lottery ticket on the promise that they would split any winnings. Cunningham won $6 million and chose to honour the agreement, splitting the money 50/50.

This is however, where fact bleeds into fiction. We are talking about a Nicolas Cage film after all and it is set against the dreamy backdrop of Manhattan, so naturally our two protagonists Charlie (Cage) and Yvonne (Fonda) don’t just get a hefty financial boost out of the bargain but also fall in love. There’s no mistaking Fonda and Cage’s chemistry and between them they hint at a perfectly pure form of love that one might expect to find in a 1930s weepie. It’s Perez’s materialistic Muriel (Charlie’s wife at the time of their big win) though, who adds a bit of zing to an otherwise sedate narrative. Driven entirely by selfish desires she tantrums when Charlie insists on giving to beggars and spends all of her time at social events trying to seductively squeeze tips out of pervy old millionaires. The revelation that Charlie has been spending their winnings on under-privileged kids is the final straw and she throws him, and his questionable wardrobe, out of their new pad. To quote Charlie himself: “It’s like we’re on two different channels now. I’m CNN and she’s the Home Shopping Network.”

Likely due to the film’s undeterrable optimism it received spiky reviews from critics. Most appreciated the feel-good factor director Andrew Bergman (Striptease, Honeymoon in Vegas) was shooting for but many found it sickly rather than sweet. Looking back at this film now it is clear it was never really given the credit it was due. It’s not an epic romance that will change your life, granted. It is, however, a nicely shot, well-acted piece that is written and directed with honesty and good-naturedness at heart. Additionally, it boasts a hilarious cameo from Emily Deschanel and you get to see Nicholas Cage on roller blades. What more do you people want from a romantic-comedy?

Many modern romantic films are so busy being witty or outlandish that they forget how effective a simple tale can be. So, next time It Could Happen To You screens on some second-rate movie channel, take a punt and let your heart have a flutter.

More essays on movie love can be found in Issue 9: our Romance Edition. Click here to purchase a copy today.

I recently spent a good three hours sobbing my heart out in the darkest corner of New Empress HQ; clutching my John McClane action figure like it was the last thing I had in the world. Why? I’d just received the news that A Good Day to Die Hard had been granted a 12A certificate. You see, I’m an old fashioned kinda gal; I like my heroes to sweat and bleed and swear, uncensored. Die Hard Mother Fudger just doesn’t have the same ring.

Those who have seen Die Hard 5 may argue that the film’s classification is the least of its problems, and that’s a fair cop, but it is also possible that the 12A certificate is at the root of some of its issues. Did the first Die Hard really have that much of an original storyline? Nope. But the smart-talking script, complete with appropriate swear words and snappy, unabashed dialogue, covered up the cracks in Alan Rickman’s accent and established John McClane as a watchable hero. That and the fact that John at one point jumps from an exploding skyscraper attached only to a fire hose.

The original John McClane was a tangible, fallible idol. When he walked across shattered glass barefoot (he had his reasons), he bled. When he crawled, inch by inch, through claustrophobic ventilation shafts, he perspired. When he made the mistakes anyone else would have made in the same situation, but he should know better because he’s a member of the NYPD,  he called himself an asshole. Because that’s real; because that’s honest.

Thanks to the new kids on the block at 20th Century Fox, John is no longer a man you can touch and smell. He’s an airbrushed fantasy with perfect muscles, able to endure any amount of beating; any number of gunshot wounds and emerge with nought more than a scratch on his forehead. He’s a superman, not an everyman meaning he’s not as relatable. Not as interesting. Not as funny. He’s not drawn that way.

Sad as this is for fans of the original Die Hard films, there are, potentially, bigger concerns about the 12A certificate. Yes. I know it’s difficult to imagine anything more important than the integrity of John McClane but I’ve read some books and looked at some charts and I’m fairly convinced my next point falls into that category: in the 12A movie-verse there are no repercussions  Bullets fly, beatings are issued, necks are snapped but there is no blood to show for it. No corpses; no broken bones; no consequences.

Jack Reacher, rated 12A, opens with a particularly chilling sequence in which a murderer snipers down several people, including a little girl in the arms of her nanny. We see the gun firing, it is clear that the people are dead but we never see them die. According to an article on Digital Spy at the time of release, the producers cut two seconds in order to secure the 12A rating. Two seconds is the difference between a film that could unnerve young and vulnerable viewers and a film that couldn’t. Similarly The Dark Knight Rises shows Bane snapping necks, but cuts away before the consequence. It’s not that there aren’t any forthright 12A films at all (The Hunger Games stands out as one of the more daring examples) but on the whole a 12A certificate tends to be code for big studios sanitising startling subject matter.

Some readers may think this is just fine. These films are going to be watched by bairns, of course they can’t portray graphic violence. That would be wrong. And immoral. And irresponsible. While it’s understandable that people feel this way  it seems that everybody is so concerned about what will happen if people are exposed to media violence they haven’t given any thought to what happens if you edit it out.  Will sheltered young people eventually be in a position where they don’t understand the bloody fallout of violent actions? It seems implausible on the surface and yet most of us have seen documentaries showing the impact of internet pornography on how young people perceive their own bodies and the nature of sexual intercourse. It’s not necessarily behaviour that is affected, but perception of key social frameworks. Is this potentially more damaging to young and vulnerable minds than the depiction of realistic violence? Only time will tell but it makes me uncomfortable that studios are effectively turning bigger profits by making violence more child-friendly.

Why are so many films aiming for the 12A certificate? As Maryann O’Connor reported in our 2012 Film Year Book the answer is, very simply, to make more money. The wider accessibility of a film, particularly to a teenage audience with plenty of expendable income, makes it more likely that the studio fat cats will gross dollar one. How they are achieving it is a more complicated issue and brings us back to the original travesty of the 12A classification of a Die Hard film.

In his recent video ‘A Bad Day for Die Hard?’ critic Mark Kermode details the notes from the BBFC website stating that the producers of A Good Day to Die Hard showed the film to the BBFC in an ‘unfinished form’. The BBFC advised that it would receive a 15 certificate but that the “preferred 12A certificate could be achieved by making a number of cuts to both language and visuals.” Shortly after the BBFC declared Die Hard 5 had been “passed uncut” and classified 12A and this is the version that was released theatrically. As Kermode rightly points out the film was not censored by the BBFC, they would happily have dished out a 15 certificate for the film that was shown to them. The company that made it, however, decided to censor their own work in order to procure the pre-teen pound.

Going beyond our responsibility to young people and making sure they’re kept safe from images that might disturb them this process raises questions surrounding both the integrity of the industry and its artistry. Was the film really ‘unfinished’? Unlikely. More likely is that they had the film they wanted to release but needed to test whether it would reach their market. Kermode predicts that the 15 rated version of A Good Day to Die Hard will reach audiences via DVD, just as the extended cut of Taken 2 did, and he’s probably right. With this in mind, is it that likely that it was ‘unfinished’ or were Fox simply looking at means of making more money? Whatever the answer to this question Kermode finishes with a very important point: this is the future of filmmaking; studios trimming their own work to maximise money-making potential.

This begs the question: will directors and scriptwriters ever again see their visions truly realised on the big screen? Will audiences start to see cinema as a medium that does not present the ‘real version’ of a film but instead something that has been tampered with to keep it more politically correct? Is cinema going to seem like a place where we go to be babied, the only true independence to be found in home entertainment? Why would you, after all, go to the cinema to watch wishy-washy tripe that doesn’t reflect the true tone of a film?

Unless studios want to see the theatrical model fall to pieces, and we don’t know for sure how much value they place on cinemas now, they should reconsider their constant gunning for the 12A.  And, perhaps, the BBFC should consider carefully whether or not it is appropriate for a studio to come to them for this kind of advice. Both are playing a part in this new process that, seemingly, deems the adult picturegoer practically worthless. These are the people making the sacrifice; suffering through low quality imitations of franchise films that once meant something to them. Furthermore, the current approach implies, in a manner that is almost insulting to our intelligence, that kids can’t get hold of the uncut versions of these films easily enough anyway. Back in the 1980s many young people got hold of ‘video nasties’ even though they were banned and they didn’t even have the internet. It doesn’t take a genius to work out that the current theatrical model is unlikely to protect anyone in the long run.

The BBFC are currently holding a public consultation. Complete the online survey here and tell them your views.

To view Mark Kermode’s video in full click here.

More columns from The Empress can be read in our latest print issue and at lostinthemultiplex.com

What would happen if King Kong went on a dating show? Now you know thanks to our talented cover artist Dan Havardi.

This issue is our Romance Edition. Inside you’ll find all sorts of quirky features on the theme of love and attraction as we explain why men hate romantic films, what you could expect from a real-life Jessica Rabbit and how to reenact your own real-life Tom Hanks rom-com. We’ve even got a special section devoted to classic couples where you’ll find our thoughts and analysis on the likes of King Kong and Ann Darrow, Greta Garbo and John Gilbert and Robot and Frank.

In addition to our themed entries we’ve also got interviews and articles on all the most important cinematic topics including the impact of hype, the digital revolution and the identity crisis in French horror.

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Subscription copies and orders will be shipped Monday 18th March.