Imagine a movie that seemingly fuses Tim Burton at his most surreal, Disney’s Fantasia and generic 1950s American “mom and apple pie” movies into one package, and you get Dr. Seuss‘ The 5,000 Fingers of Dr. T.

Last night I wandered over to the austere Photographer’s Gallery by Oxford Circus – a building that has taken the concept of white paint to its ultimate expression – for the phantasmagorial delight that was to be shown in their upstairs gallery.

The movie was made in 1953, and at its simplest is basically about a young boy who is forced to learn the piano against his will by a tyrannical tutor and has a tendency to daydream a lot. From the utopian 1950s household he is transported to a nightmare vision where a strange land is ruled by the aforementioned tutor who has a mad vision to collect 500 children (hence the 5,000 fingers of the title) who will play a gigantic piano for all time. Add in a widowed mum and a handsome manual labourer, who just happens to be a genius piano player and you have the genesis of the movie.

The movie is both brilliant, and awful in equal measures, but despite being commercial flop has become a cult classic. I was vaguely aware of the existence of the film, but had never seen it – and as part of an ongoing season, the gallery decided to have a small screening.

While the scenery is monstrous and exactly what you would expect from Dr Seuss, it is the secondary characters that make the movie for me. The guards all stomping around are of a somewhat larger than average build which just adds to the terror they cause a small child, but best are the “twins”, two old men who have a long beard that has grown between them to form a link and they travel around on rollerskates, almost as a single being.

The lower dungeons are dedicated to musicians who don’t play the piano as the tutor is determined to banish all other forms of music that exist. Here, grand musical dances occur – almost a Peter and the Wolf style demonstration of what each musical instrument can do, but distorted by Dr Suess’ vision.

I think that if this movie was made today, it could be a huge hit as people are used to movies such as A Nightmare Before Christmas and The Corpse Bride. It could even work as a stage musical. As it stands, it is an odd mixture of 1950s stage musical, and a modernish Tim Burton fantasy.

A slight twist at the end of the movie makes you question whether this was all just a dream!

The film is like marmite, either you’ll love it or you’ll hate it. Unlike marmite (blugh!), I loved this film.

The original film trailer is on the IMDB website.

Last night, I wandered along to the South Bank to see what was being touted as a fairly major PR stunt for the forthcoming Watchmen movie. The event was billed as:

“Dr Manhattan, the blue skinned, super-powered being beloved of all Watchmen fans, will rise above the murky depths of the Thames to a height of over 70 feet and tower over all those who dare to attend.”

Wow I thought – and while not overly excited about the movie, this just had to be seen.

Double checked with the Port of London website to see where the barge would be moored (a handy tip if ever attending a river event!) and wandered along to have a watch.

Got there a bit before half past seven and various people were already securing prime spots on the Hungerford Bridge – which seemed to be the best viewing point and I quickly ran off to grab a coffee and returned to get a good location. There was a barge blowing a huge screen of water into the air and projecting various images onto the wall of mist – along with some spotlights whizzing around for dramatic effect.

Looked like it could be quite good!

The bridge filled up with various types, but the majority had that stereotypical look of the sort of person who will like the movie – and as Big Ben tolled the 8 O’Clock for the event, the bridge went quiet in anticipation.

Nothing happened. Hmm, wait a bit – 8:05, nothing going on; 8:10 and still nothing; 8:15 and yet nothing is happening – just the same video on a wall of water about 20 ft high. Ohh, spotlights started blinking, so excitement rose – but nothing happened. I knew the warning about the barge on the PoL website said it finished by 8:30, so as the crowd started to wander off disappointed I hung around a while longer.

Suddenly, a huge yellow smile was beamed onto the Shell Building – gasps of delight as the event was about to start – then it was switched off.

8:30 came and went, with no sign that anything was going to happen.

It was a freezing cold night and despite constantly putting alternate hands inside jackets to try and keep them warm, by now I was so numb from the cold that I could barely use the camera – and was desperate to use the loo.

At 8:40, the bridge was manned by just a few die-hard fans and random people who stopped to have a look as they walked over the river – but I decided to give up by then.

What could have been a really impressive spectacle turned into a PR disaster – which could have been mitigated if the PR firm had some staff on the bridge explaining what was happening. But no PR people were around, no information was provided, and after over an hour of freezing on the bridge, I had had enough.

Not impressed – and no chance to get the photo of Dr Manhattan rearing up over Big Ben that  I had hopped for.