Why Marty Supreme should win the best picture Oscar

Despite being set in the 50s, the film masterfully reflects modern-day anxieties, disconnection and obsession with nostalgia, all while reigniting interest in an unsung sport First things first: the best picture Oscar should go to Marty Supreme for the incredible job it has done in bringing new eyes to ping pong. A declining sport that has to be propped up by subsidy, this movie has single-handedly kept wiff waff alive even though no one cares about it any more. Kudos. Next, a confession. I watched this film the day it came out and haven’t seen it since*. That day also happened to be my birthday, a big birthday, and I wasn’t entirely steady when I entered the cinema that evening. I have sketchy recollections of the middle section – the bit between the bath collapsing and the plane to Japan. I also didn’t really like it much; I found it inconsequential and a bit amoral and I instantly resolved to forget the words to 4 Raws Remix (sample lyric: “my life is an opera”) as a result. Cont...

Is eco-terrorism now self-defence? Inside explosive film How to Blow Up a Pipeline

Peaceful protest hasn’t stopped the climate crisis, so what should happen next? The makers of a new nerve-jangling film about eight young saboteurs talk about oil, extreme action and morality

In the baking heat of the west Texas desert, a young man is making a bomb. Hands trembling, sweat fogging his goggles, he slowly assembles the explosive. A knife-blade of powder is painstakingly poured into a tiny tube. Wires are shakily glued together. With infinite care, the delicate, deadly contraption takes shape. Outside the tin shack where this is all unfolding, another young man paces, remembering his friend’s instructions: “Don’t come in unless I tell you to. Unless you see fire.” He looks as if he’s about to be sick. The audience knows how he feels.

This is the tense setup at the heart of How to Blow Up a Pipeline, a propulsive, nerve-jangling thriller about eight young people who want to send a message about the urgency of the climate crisis by sabotaging an oil pipeline. The film takes its cues from its heroes: aiming to excite audiences into action instead of hectoring them into submission. It is one hell of a ride. After its premiere at Toronto last year, the New York Times pronounced How to Blow Up a Pipeline “a cultural landmark” for its sympathetic take on eco-terrorism, while the Washington City Paper described its youthful cast as “a much more intense, combustible version of The Breakfast Club”.

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