I'm working on a piece about Full Metal Jacket right now, and I've just read this Kubrick quote: 'We worked from still photographs of Hue in 1968. And we found an area that had the same 1930's functionalist architecture. Now, not every bit of it was right, but some of the buildings were absolute carbon copies of the outer industrial areas of Hue...We had demolition guys in there for a week, laying charges...Then we had a wrecking ball there for two months, with the art director telling the operator which hole to knock in which building... I don't think anybody's ever had a set like that...To make that kind of three-dimensional rubble, you'd have to have everything done by plasterers, modeled, and you couldn't build that if you spent $80 million and had five years to do it. You couldn't duplicate, oh, all those twisted bits of reinforcement. And to make rubble, you'd have to go find some real rubble and copy it...no one can make up a rock. I found that out in Paths of Glory. We had to copy rocks, but every rock also has an inherent logic you're not aware of until you see a fake rock. Every detail looks right, but something's wrong. So we had real rubble. We brought in palm trees from Spain and a hundred thousand plastic tropical plants from Hong Kong...All in all, a tremendous set dressing and rubble job.' No one can make up a rock – I like that statement. This is making me think of Andy Holden's piece at Tate Britain earlier this year: Return of the Pyramid Piece, 2008. And, tangentially, the slow-motion close-ups of rubble lifting from the impact of a bomb in The Hurt Locker – the closeness and precision of those sounds, the maddening crispness in the detail.