Danny Boyle still rules

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Do you remember 1996? I do. I think it was one of my favorite years. By sheer serendipity, I found myself sharing an East London flat and working off Old Street smack dab in the middle of one to those times when the stars of all cool things align. Twelve years later, I look back with fondness but realize that everything moves on. These days I find myself on the opposite side of the long forgotten Blur/Oasis beef. Not often do I wonder what Goldie has been up to or if Patsy Kensit is still hot. But one thing that has stuck with me for all these years is my fascination with Danny Boyle’s movies. I found out about Danny Boyle at the same time everyone else did. When I arrived in London, everybody was talking about Irvine Welsh and this gritty movie about junkies in Scottish council estates. Of course I had to go see it. After that I watched Shallow Grave and I was hooked. I think I saw Trainspotting four times that year, including a couple shows at the Prince Charles. The latter viewings we motivated partly by poverty (the Prince Charles was about the only thing in London less than 2 quid) and partly because it took me four viewings to finally understand the what the hell Begbie was saying. But each time, without fail, I was mesmerized by the humor in the tragedy and the joy in the bleakness that was this amazing combo of Irvine Welsh’s story and Danny Boyle’s craft. The first chords to Born Slippy still give me a little shiver to this day. Choose fookin life meyt.

Since then I’ve always felt compelled to see whatever Mr. Boyle puts out. But being a fan is a coasting ride with anxious dips. Though my nervousness about his foray into big commercial flicks with Hollywood stars (A Life Less Ordinary and The Beach) might have proved rightly so, looking back, I’m glad he never stopped making movies. I’ll admit there was concern. After the burn of a couple big budget flops, I worried his esoteric projects like Strumpet might be a recoil or attempt to latch on the dreaded Dogme 95 bandwagon. Luckily, I was wrong as usual. His second match-up with Alex Garland (28 Days Later) made me a fan of two things I would have never admitted before: DV cams and zombies. Since then Mr. Boyle has helped me open up to kids’ flicks (Millions) and sci-fi movies that are not Star Wars (btw. Watch Sunshine again. Way under-rated).

The other day, I watched Slumdog Millionaire. As a tightwad in a season when everybody is feeling busted and movies cost 11 bucks, I can tell you it’s worth every penny. As a Danny Boyle fan of a dozen years, I am pleased to say my boy is on top form. Now…about that Arsenal…….ooof…….