A pair of short films from the legendary Alan Moore...
You can watch both shorts HERE and HERE.
The first thing that’s apparent about the prelude short film Act of Faith is that it’s more of an occurrence than full-fledged story. We’re introduced to main character Faith (Siobhan Hewlett) in the worst way possible - through a phone conversation. Actually, all the conversations in the short take place over the phone, which has my inner film student screaming (useless film school factoid: any conversation between characters should always take place in person - face-to-face - whenever possible or plausible - for maximum dramatic effect). But let’s put that grievous sin aside for now, and look at what the film gives us. Although it gets off to a bit of a rocky start, once we get into the kinky stuff the short starts immediately picking up steam. Faith’s actions start getting more and more bizarre, and once we finally figure out what Moore is building to, it’s far too late - much like for the main character herself. Longtime Alan Moore fans will remember his Future Shocks strips from 2000 AD, and the often mindbending/hilarious twist endings found therein. Moore gives another gut-punch at the end here, equal parts tragic and absurd. Taken on its own, it’s a bit of fluff. Clever and provocative fluff, but fluff nonetheless. But it’s not a story meant to stand on its own - it’s a prelude to another story altogether, and certain choice moments - like the ending fade on a phone where the dissolve makes it look like some sinister creature watching over the main character - hint at bigger things to come…
In Jimmy’s End, the proper ‘story’ gets going - although it’s really more of a nightmarish carnival ride through another, far more disturbed world. Whereas Act of Faith felt more like an exercise - both in its composition and overall design - Jimmy’s End is a far more accomplished work; drawing from a much richer palate, both visually and narratively. The greatest effect Jimmy’s End has is in its building sense of unease, effectively transporting the viewer to the place or state of mind our leading man finds himself in - like a fever dream that’s not quite a nightmare, but not that far off, either. The titular Jimmy (Darrell D'Silva) is a bit of a drunk, and a pub-hopping one at that. Late one night, he happens upon a particular club that seems particularly off, and Jimmy finds that once he’s inside, he can’t bring himself to leave. In the club - a real-life place called the St. James Inn Working Men’s Club - he meets a variety of colorful characters, including Faith, making an appearance here after her own film (and also including a bald, Scottish clown who feels like Moore’s critique of Grant Morrison *). The appearance of Faith and the very title itself should give you a fairly good idea of the waters the story will tread, although I don’t think it’s quite as simple as it appears on first glance. Jimmy is very obviously traveling through some form of underworld where the spirits of the dead reside - indeed, Jimmy himself may be dead. But I feel a deeper commentary creeping in at the edges…
I believe Moore and his director Mitch Jenkins are telling a story of a life spent in show-business. Moore himself appears as one part of a duo that owns the club, Mr.’s Metterton and Matchbright - and it’s not hard to imagine these characters as Moore and Jenkins themselves, orchestrating this nightmarish business for their own purposes. It feels as if Moore is comparing show-business, whether making comics or films or what-have-you, to the nightmarish, circus-like world of the St. James Inn Working Men’s Club - where your very soul is passed around from one bidder/publisher to the next. Moore’s latter work has revolved entirely around his hometown Northampton, which the author sees as the proverbial “center of the universe.” In Moore’s eyes, that’s all he knows, so if he is to find the secrets and meanings of the universe, it must be through his own life and environment - it's entirely fitting that he would seek these items out through an examination of his own career. It’s rather vain, self-important stuff, and the fact that Moore himself appears as a sort of golden-skinned god leading us all into the light at the end could be tiresome… But it’s delivered in an engaging fashion, and seems to be leading towards something even bigger and more thought-provoking.
I could very well be wrong in my theory - this is just the first part of a series that Moore and Jenkins plan on pursuing, and it could go in any number of directions. But what’s the name of said series? The Show…
I can’t wait to see the rest of it.
* At one point the clown says, “I used to tell jokes, but now I just masturbate…” Is Moore implying here that Morrison gave up his own pursuits as a writer, and now spends his time ‘wanking’ around on Batman and Superman comics? I doubt Moore has paid much attention to his long-time rival comic scribe’s career over the last decade, but the fact that he’s had a long-standing feud with Morrison certainly implies that that’s who the clown’s meant to be here. If the whole project is a reflection of Moore’s career, then that certainly gives credence to the theory.
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