Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
I am not really into historical revisionism. Normally a post stays as posted, but recently I have been tinkering with odd recent posts. A word here. A phrase there. Nothing very much and nothing removed, just made better.
I suppose I am doing it because I can think of absolutely nothing interesting to write. I don't fancy writing about me, or Jennifer, or work, or my family. I find that lately I am writing about TV (sometimes) and films (all of the time). There is nothing else.
Maybe the urge to blog wears off. I don't know. I hope not.
I know...
Jennifer is downstairs perusing a 1974 episode of the "M*A*S*H" television series. I had to come upstairs because I found it awful and unwatchable. The worst thing about it was the laughter track. Irritating in the extreme.
Maybe old TV should never be revisited? "The Twilight Zone" excluded, of course.
I suppose I am doing it because I can think of absolutely nothing interesting to write. I don't fancy writing about me, or Jennifer, or work, or my family. I find that lately I am writing about TV (sometimes) and films (all of the time). There is nothing else.
Maybe the urge to blog wears off. I don't know. I hope not.
I know...
Jennifer is downstairs perusing a 1974 episode of the "M*A*S*H" television series. I had to come upstairs because I found it awful and unwatchable. The worst thing about it was the laughter track. Irritating in the extreme.
Maybe old TV should never be revisited? "The Twilight Zone" excluded, of course.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Formatting went to shit on that last post, so I have just corrected it. (Copy and paste into notepad to remove all formatting. Then copy and paste back into the blog from notepad. Then do the formatting again. Ain't I clever?)
Fairly quiet weekend, truth be told. I went to work on Saturday morning. Saturday afternoon we did food shopping, we ate food and then we watched TV.
Yeah, I think that about sums it up.
On Sunday I went to see "Deception".
Two things to say about this film.
Firstly, what an astoundingly rubbish title for a movie. "Deception"??? Oh, come on. Can you think of a more non-committal, less interesting, less imaginative title for a movie? I can't. All thrillers are about deception, of one kind or another.
"Deception" originally went into production under the title "The List". Hmm... Well... OK. I admit it. That title is also pretty bad.
Then, "Deception" was going to be called "The Tourist". Now, I kind of like that. Sounds art house and kind of strange. Conjures up images of an observer, an outsider. Somebody not in the loop. In fact, pretty much the character that Ewan McGregor plays.
Secondly, what a completely rubbish movie!
OK, maybe not completely rubbish. Just mostly rubbish.
"Deception" is a good 20 minutes too long. After a while it just seems to go on and on, and the climax is misjudged and mistimed. The sex is typical Movies 24 soft core erotica, or maybe a Friday night Channel 5 movie from the early Noughties. You know the kind of thing. Soft focus humping to a soundtrack of screaming saxophone driven jazz. (Mind you don't trip over the cliche, there chief!) Every plot twist in "Deception" is signposted way in advance. If you don't get at least one of the major plot twists then, frankly, you really should give up watching movies. Pretty lame, pretty dull, pretty bad movie.
I said 'mostly rubbish', so some of it must have been good. Yes?
I did like the film's chilly, European ambiance. I liked the idea of powerful people, too isolated and too busy to develop human relationships. I liked Hugh Jackman's well dressed and cold instigator, Ewan McGregor's lonely accountant and Michelle Williams' bruised vulnerability. I thought all three leads made the most of their underwritten roles, but sadly it was not enough.
There is plenty of space in this world for a good, sexualised thriller (see the original "Basic Instinct"), but sadly "Deception" was nothing like a good sexualised thriller.
Fairly quiet weekend, truth be told. I went to work on Saturday morning. Saturday afternoon we did food shopping, we ate food and then we watched TV.
Yeah, I think that about sums it up.
On Sunday I went to see "Deception".
Two things to say about this film.
Firstly, what an astoundingly rubbish title for a movie. "Deception"??? Oh, come on. Can you think of a more non-committal, less interesting, less imaginative title for a movie? I can't. All thrillers are about deception, of one kind or another.
"Deception" originally went into production under the title "The List". Hmm... Well... OK. I admit it. That title is also pretty bad.
Then, "Deception" was going to be called "The Tourist". Now, I kind of like that. Sounds art house and kind of strange. Conjures up images of an observer, an outsider. Somebody not in the loop. In fact, pretty much the character that Ewan McGregor plays.
Secondly, what a completely rubbish movie!
OK, maybe not completely rubbish. Just mostly rubbish.
"Deception" is a good 20 minutes too long. After a while it just seems to go on and on, and the climax is misjudged and mistimed. The sex is typical Movies 24 soft core erotica, or maybe a Friday night Channel 5 movie from the early Noughties. You know the kind of thing. Soft focus humping to a soundtrack of screaming saxophone driven jazz. (Mind you don't trip over the cliche, there chief!) Every plot twist in "Deception" is signposted way in advance. If you don't get at least one of the major plot twists then, frankly, you really should give up watching movies. Pretty lame, pretty dull, pretty bad movie.
I said 'mostly rubbish', so some of it must have been good. Yes?
I did like the film's chilly, European ambiance. I liked the idea of powerful people, too isolated and too busy to develop human relationships. I liked Hugh Jackman's well dressed and cold instigator, Ewan McGregor's lonely accountant and Michelle Williams' bruised vulnerability. I thought all three leads made the most of their underwritten roles, but sadly it was not enough.
There is plenty of space in this world for a good, sexualised thriller (see the original "Basic Instinct"), but sadly "Deception" was nothing like a good sexualised thriller.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Eagle eyed readers will note from my sidebar that I have finally finished re-reading Dan Simmons "Hyperion", and that I have started re-reading the follow up "The Fall Of Hyperion". That makes my current reading schedule for 2008 four books in four months. Phew! That is a white hot reading rate, I must say.
Totally coincidentally, I recently read here on the Empire Online website of plans afoot to make a single movie of "Hyperion" and "The Fall Of Hyperion".
Er... No. I don't think so.
I like movies and I like books so, of course, I will be interested in seeing a movie adaptation of a favourite book. Sure I will. Even if I think that the book is unfilmable. Surprise me. Prove me wrong. Please. (I am currently waiting for Zack Snyder's movie adaptation of Alan Moore's "Watchmen". I have high hopes. Sadly "Watchmen" is not due out until 3rd March 2009. Bastards!)
But not "Hyperion" and "The Fall Of Hyperion". Please, no. Too big, too detailed, too complex and too subtle for a single movie. In fact, when they get in contact with me to ask what I think, I will tell them that the very idea is fucking ridiculous.
What did I promise once about never criticising a movie until I have seen it? Er...
I will go to see the movie if it is made. I have great doubts that the movie will ever happen, but I suppose they said the same about the "Lord Of The Rings" trilogy.
To end this fine Friday, a Me Me Me, nicked from Life On Planet Me.
What's your favourite word in the English Language?
Preambulation.
When did you last pay to go see a movie?
Last Sunday. I went to see "Happy-Go-Lucky".
Whats the worst smell in the world?
Cheese.
What was the first prize you ever won?
First prize in a Reading Aloud competition. 1972. I was 9. I only won because I have a big gob.
Have you ever had a supernatural experience?
In times of stress my Dad visits me in my dreams. True.
Whats your Karaoke song of choice?
"Jumping Jack Flash" by da Stones, but I haven't done that for a while.
How much is a pint of milk?
No idea. The milk is always bundled in with other things. I would estimate about a quid thirty?
Whats the worst thing you've ever put in your mouth?
I once went into the kitchen and there was a puddle on the floor. It looked like orange juice, so I dipped a finger in it and tasted. It wasn't orange juice. I can still hear Ben the Cat laughing.
Who is the best James Bond?
Michael Jayston in the radio adaptation of "You Only Live Twice".
When were you last star struck?
It was a very, very big deal to me getting George Lazenby's autograph. A lovely, nice man. Old school gentleman.
Whats your favourite joke?
I don't know about favourite, but this is a recent joke I came across.
An American golfer playing in Ireland hooked his drive into the woods. Looking for his ball, he found a little Leprechaun flat on his back, a big bump on his head and the golfer's ball beside him.
Horrified, the golfer got his water bottle from the cart and poured it over the little guy, reviving him.
"Arrgh! What happened?", the Leprechaun asked.
"I'm afraid I hit you with my golf ball," the golfer says.
"Oh, I see. Well, ye got me fair and square. Ye get three wishes, so whaddya want?"
"Thank God, you're all right!", the golfer answers in relief. "I don't want anything. I'm just glad you're OK, and I apologize."
And the golfer walks off.
"What a nice guy," the Leprechaun says to himself. "I have to do something for him. I'll give him the three things I would want... A great golf game, all the money he ever needs and a fantastic sex life."
A year goes by (as it does in stories like this) and the American golfer is back. On the same hole, he again hits a bad drive into the woods and the Leprechaun is there waiting for him.
"T'was me that made ye hit the ball here," the little guy says. "I just want to ask ye, how's yer golf game?"
"My game is fantastic!", the golfer answers. "I'm a famous golfer now."
He adds, "By the way, it's good to see you're doing all right."
"Oh, I'm fine now, thankye. I did that fer yer golf game, you know. And tell me, how's yer money situation?"
"Why, it's just wonderful!" the golfer states. "When I need cash, I just reach in my pocket and pull out the exact amount every time. I didn't even know it were there!"
"I did that fer ye also. And tell me, how's yer sex life?"
The golfer blushes, turns his head away in embarrassment, and says shyly, "It's OK."
"C'mon, c'mon now," urged the Leprechaun, "I'm wanting to know if I did a good job. How many times a week?"
Blushing even more, the golfer looks around then whispers, "Once, sometimes twice a week."
"What??" responds the Leprechaun in shock. "That's all? Only once or twice a week?"
"Well," says the golfer, "I figure that's not bad for a Catholic priest in a small parish."
Totally coincidentally, I recently read here on the Empire Online website of plans afoot to make a single movie of "Hyperion" and "The Fall Of Hyperion".
Er... No. I don't think so.
I like movies and I like books so, of course, I will be interested in seeing a movie adaptation of a favourite book. Sure I will. Even if I think that the book is unfilmable. Surprise me. Prove me wrong. Please. (I am currently waiting for Zack Snyder's movie adaptation of Alan Moore's "Watchmen". I have high hopes. Sadly "Watchmen" is not due out until 3rd March 2009. Bastards!)
But not "Hyperion" and "The Fall Of Hyperion". Please, no. Too big, too detailed, too complex and too subtle for a single movie. In fact, when they get in contact with me to ask what I think, I will tell them that the very idea is fucking ridiculous.
What did I promise once about never criticising a movie until I have seen it? Er...
I will go to see the movie if it is made. I have great doubts that the movie will ever happen, but I suppose they said the same about the "Lord Of The Rings" trilogy.
To end this fine Friday, a Me Me Me, nicked from Life On Planet Me.
What's your favourite word in the English Language?
Preambulation.
When did you last pay to go see a movie?
Last Sunday. I went to see "Happy-Go-Lucky".
Whats the worst smell in the world?
Cheese.
What was the first prize you ever won?
First prize in a Reading Aloud competition. 1972. I was 9. I only won because I have a big gob.
Have you ever had a supernatural experience?
In times of stress my Dad visits me in my dreams. True.
Whats your Karaoke song of choice?
"Jumping Jack Flash" by da Stones, but I haven't done that for a while.
How much is a pint of milk?
No idea. The milk is always bundled in with other things. I would estimate about a quid thirty?
Whats the worst thing you've ever put in your mouth?
I once went into the kitchen and there was a puddle on the floor. It looked like orange juice, so I dipped a finger in it and tasted. It wasn't orange juice. I can still hear Ben the Cat laughing.
Who is the best James Bond?
Michael Jayston in the radio adaptation of "You Only Live Twice".
When were you last star struck?
It was a very, very big deal to me getting George Lazenby's autograph. A lovely, nice man. Old school gentleman.
Whats your favourite joke?
I don't know about favourite, but this is a recent joke I came across.
An American golfer playing in Ireland hooked his drive into the woods. Looking for his ball, he found a little Leprechaun flat on his back, a big bump on his head and the golfer's ball beside him.
Horrified, the golfer got his water bottle from the cart and poured it over the little guy, reviving him.
"Arrgh! What happened?", the Leprechaun asked.
"I'm afraid I hit you with my golf ball," the golfer says.
"Oh, I see. Well, ye got me fair and square. Ye get three wishes, so whaddya want?"
"Thank God, you're all right!", the golfer answers in relief. "I don't want anything. I'm just glad you're OK, and I apologize."
And the golfer walks off.
"What a nice guy," the Leprechaun says to himself. "I have to do something for him. I'll give him the three things I would want... A great golf game, all the money he ever needs and a fantastic sex life."
A year goes by (as it does in stories like this) and the American golfer is back. On the same hole, he again hits a bad drive into the woods and the Leprechaun is there waiting for him.
"T'was me that made ye hit the ball here," the little guy says. "I just want to ask ye, how's yer golf game?"
"My game is fantastic!", the golfer answers. "I'm a famous golfer now."
He adds, "By the way, it's good to see you're doing all right."
"Oh, I'm fine now, thankye. I did that fer yer golf game, you know. And tell me, how's yer money situation?"
"Why, it's just wonderful!" the golfer states. "When I need cash, I just reach in my pocket and pull out the exact amount every time. I didn't even know it were there!"
"I did that fer ye also. And tell me, how's yer sex life?"
The golfer blushes, turns his head away in embarrassment, and says shyly, "It's OK."
"C'mon, c'mon now," urged the Leprechaun, "I'm wanting to know if I did a good job. How many times a week?"
Blushing even more, the golfer looks around then whispers, "Once, sometimes twice a week."
"What??" responds the Leprechaun in shock. "That's all? Only once or twice a week?"
"Well," says the golfer, "I figure that's not bad for a Catholic priest in a small parish."
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
I hate not writing, but I was so depressed and fed up over the last couple of days, I did not have the heart to even turn on the computer.
Maybe I will elaborate with details at a later date. Suffice to say that emotions are running high about my job and Jennifer's success or otherwise in doing her job being in jeopardy if I continue to work at the same place as her. I guess I have known it for a long time. The Company has taken her away from me. I cannot forgive them or her for that. My anger and annoyance is eating me up. Wanting to punch people in the face every day is probably not a healthy way to live.
I need to do something. Time to move on. Fuck 'em.
Anyway, movies. Did you miss my gibberish? No?
Oh.
"Happy-Go-Lucky".
Some UK critics have been saying that "Happy-Go-Lucky" is the happiest and most cheerful movie that Mike Leigh has ever made. Well, I don't know if I would exactly agree with that. It is and it isn't.
Sally Hawkins' primary school teacher Poppy is, indeed, a very happy individual. Annoyingly happy, insanely cheerful, depressingly optimistic and psychotically 'Up!', most of the time. It is a tribute to Sally Hawkins performance that, once you get past the initial irritation with her, you completely fall in love with Poppy, her goodness, her openness and, yes, her simple niceness.
Then there is Eddie Marsan's driving instructor Scott. Scott is the very antithesis of happy. Scott is rigid, angry, frustrated, impatient, knotted up and racist. A borderline OCD sufferer, who is tortured by who-knows-what in his past. Scott is the most bitter and overwhelming character in a Mike Leigh film since David Thewlis' Johnny in "Naked". It is a towering performance by Eddie Marsan.
If Poppy is the light, Scott is definitely the dark, but it seemed to me that dark shadows inhabit the whole of "Happy-Go-Lucky". The unhappy schoolboy, the glum Sister, the other sister - a social climber who dominates her husband. Little vignettes of irritation and annoyance. Typical Mike Leigh.
"Happy-Go-Lucky" is a really good film, if you stick with it. I liked the way that Poppy does stop smiling towards the end. Maybe the world is too much for even the most dedicated optimist?
"In Bruges".
It's hard to know how to describe "In Bruges". Maybe it would be best to describe it as an existential comedy? I don't know. All I will say is that, if Samuel Beckett or Harold Pinter had been commissioned to write an action movie/buddy-buddy comedy, they might have come up with something like "In Bruges". There are definite echoes of "Waiting For Godot" and "The Dumb Waiter" in the dialogue, the situations and the characters.
Simply put, "In Bruges" is just a gloriously funny and so-black-light-bends-into-it comedy. A brilliant confection of poetry, cynicism, innocence and slapstick. Great turns from Brendan Gleeson as the older, philosophical hit man Ken and Ralph Fiennes as barking mad Essex dog Harry, possibly the most unstable British gangster seen onscreen since Ben Kingsley in "Sexy Beast". Maybe surprisingly, for some, Colin Farrell shows what a fine performance he can produce when cast in right part. His young killer, Ray, is a mixture of willfulness, innocence, childishness and regret. You feel for him. Really you do.
"In Bruges" will not be a box office smash. It is probably too lyrical and introspective for huge success, and also it has hardly been promoted, but I have no doubt that it will find it's audience as a cult movie on DVD and on late night Indie movie channel screenings.
It's a great film. You should go and see it. Really you should.
Maybe I will elaborate with details at a later date. Suffice to say that emotions are running high about my job and Jennifer's success or otherwise in doing her job being in jeopardy if I continue to work at the same place as her. I guess I have known it for a long time. The Company has taken her away from me. I cannot forgive them or her for that. My anger and annoyance is eating me up. Wanting to punch people in the face every day is probably not a healthy way to live.
I need to do something. Time to move on. Fuck 'em.
Anyway, movies. Did you miss my gibberish? No?
Oh.
"Happy-Go-Lucky".
Some UK critics have been saying that "Happy-Go-Lucky" is the happiest and most cheerful movie that Mike Leigh has ever made. Well, I don't know if I would exactly agree with that. It is and it isn't.
Sally Hawkins' primary school teacher Poppy is, indeed, a very happy individual. Annoyingly happy, insanely cheerful, depressingly optimistic and psychotically 'Up!', most of the time. It is a tribute to Sally Hawkins performance that, once you get past the initial irritation with her, you completely fall in love with Poppy, her goodness, her openness and, yes, her simple niceness.
Then there is Eddie Marsan's driving instructor Scott. Scott is the very antithesis of happy. Scott is rigid, angry, frustrated, impatient, knotted up and racist. A borderline OCD sufferer, who is tortured by who-knows-what in his past. Scott is the most bitter and overwhelming character in a Mike Leigh film since David Thewlis' Johnny in "Naked". It is a towering performance by Eddie Marsan.
If Poppy is the light, Scott is definitely the dark, but it seemed to me that dark shadows inhabit the whole of "Happy-Go-Lucky". The unhappy schoolboy, the glum Sister, the other sister - a social climber who dominates her husband. Little vignettes of irritation and annoyance. Typical Mike Leigh.
"Happy-Go-Lucky" is a really good film, if you stick with it. I liked the way that Poppy does stop smiling towards the end. Maybe the world is too much for even the most dedicated optimist?
"In Bruges".
After a hit goes badly wrong, two hired killers (one of them older, experienced and word weary, the other raw, inexperienced and emotional) are ordered to hide out in the city of Bruges in Belgium, and to await further instructions from the Boss. Why beautiful, old, scenic Bruges, where nothing much happens, and when it does happen, it happens very slowly? Ah... Well there is a reason, which is crucial to the plot, and I am definitely not going to go into it here.
It's hard to know how to describe "In Bruges". Maybe it would be best to describe it as an existential comedy? I don't know. All I will say is that, if Samuel Beckett or Harold Pinter had been commissioned to write an action movie/buddy-buddy comedy, they might have come up with something like "In Bruges". There are definite echoes of "Waiting For Godot" and "The Dumb Waiter" in the dialogue, the situations and the characters.
Simply put, "In Bruges" is just a gloriously funny and so-black-light-bends-into-it comedy. A brilliant confection of poetry, cynicism, innocence and slapstick. Great turns from Brendan Gleeson as the older, philosophical hit man Ken and Ralph Fiennes as barking mad Essex dog Harry, possibly the most unstable British gangster seen onscreen since Ben Kingsley in "Sexy Beast". Maybe surprisingly, for some, Colin Farrell shows what a fine performance he can produce when cast in right part. His young killer, Ray, is a mixture of willfulness, innocence, childishness and regret. You feel for him. Really you do.
"In Bruges" will not be a box office smash. It is probably too lyrical and introspective for huge success, and also it has hardly been promoted, but I have no doubt that it will find it's audience as a cult movie on DVD and on late night Indie movie channel screenings.
It's a great film. You should go and see it. Really you should.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Thursday, April 17, 2008
I don't write music reviews that are very coherent. I envy the likes of Swiss Toni, LB and Planet Me, who are all gentlemen that write really interesting and incisive music reviews. Not that I always agree with everything in said reviews, mind, but hey! wouldn't it be boring if we all liked the same things?
So, some brief comments on the last couple of gigs that I went to see. (Brief is my favourite word at the moment. It covers a multitude of sins.)
On Monday night I went to see the Fratellis at the Carling Academy in Birmingham.
What kind of music do the Fratellis play? Is it pub rock? Or Dad rock? Maybe Brit pop? Or is it some kind of mutated 70's style power pop and glam rock stomp?
Dunno, mate. I am not very good at putting on labels on music.
I thought that the Fratellis were enormous fun. I believe this gig was organised quickly to road test tracks from the new album, due out in June. Well, the new tunes sounded good,as did the old tunes, with the inevitable "Chelsea Dagger" (of course) as the final encore. Seems to me that there has been a definite progression in the sound from the first album, as the band had a keyboard player onstage with them, this time, and keyboards were featured on a fair few of the new tracks. Definitely a hint of latter stage Supergrass about the Fratellis. I think that is a good thing.
Massive energy, very loud, very hot, crazy audience of 12-24 year olds. A fair few crowd surfers. I haven't seen that for a while. The security detail seemed to be having kittens every time somebody launched themselves onto the heads of the audience.
My Brother and I were probably the oldest people in the Carling Academy by about 20 years. So what? I am with Mick Jagger in that I do not believe that having fun is the prerogative of the young.
I love this song. I think I have put it on every blog I have ever had.
I have ran out of time to write about Portishead. Next time.
So, some brief comments on the last couple of gigs that I went to see. (Brief is my favourite word at the moment. It covers a multitude of sins.)
On Monday night I went to see the Fratellis at the Carling Academy in Birmingham.
What kind of music do the Fratellis play? Is it pub rock? Or Dad rock? Maybe Brit pop? Or is it some kind of mutated 70's style power pop and glam rock stomp?
Dunno, mate. I am not very good at putting on labels on music.
I thought that the Fratellis were enormous fun. I believe this gig was organised quickly to road test tracks from the new album, due out in June. Well, the new tunes sounded good,as did the old tunes, with the inevitable "Chelsea Dagger" (of course) as the final encore. Seems to me that there has been a definite progression in the sound from the first album, as the band had a keyboard player onstage with them, this time, and keyboards were featured on a fair few of the new tracks. Definitely a hint of latter stage Supergrass about the Fratellis. I think that is a good thing.
Massive energy, very loud, very hot, crazy audience of 12-24 year olds. A fair few crowd surfers. I haven't seen that for a while. The security detail seemed to be having kittens every time somebody launched themselves onto the heads of the audience.
My Brother and I were probably the oldest people in the Carling Academy by about 20 years. So what? I am with Mick Jagger in that I do not believe that having fun is the prerogative of the young.
I love this song. I think I have put it on every blog I have ever had.
I have ran out of time to write about Portishead. Next time.
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
I did write reviews of the Portishead and Fratellis gigs, but I have scrapped them because they were shit. (The quality of the reviews, that is. Not the gigs.) I will try again tomorrow. I will not be defeated, just delayed.
Anyway, there will be loads more time tomorrow evening. Jennifer is out at a meal that The Company are throwing the celebrate their success over the last year. I declined my invitation. As I explained to Jennifer, I would rather spend the evening plucking my arse hair with a pair of tweezers than be any part of the orgy of self congratulation and sucking up that the meal tomorrow night will turn into.
Jennifer has told people that I am just in an anti-social mood. Oh, yes.
Anyway, there will be loads more time tomorrow evening. Jennifer is out at a meal that The Company are throwing the celebrate their success over the last year. I declined my invitation. As I explained to Jennifer, I would rather spend the evening plucking my arse hair with a pair of tweezers than be any part of the orgy of self congratulation and sucking up that the meal tomorrow night will turn into.
Jennifer has told people that I am just in an anti-social mood. Oh, yes.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
If brevity is going to be the key to catching up, brief is what I will be.
First up, the movie "21" that I saw today at the Cineworld on Broad Street.
You and I have seen this movie many times before.
A talented Innocent is recruited/seduced by an older, devious mentor, with the promise of riches/fame/success if he utilises his talent on behalf of the mentor. Riches/fame/success are delivered, but the effects are corrupting on the Innocent. The Innocent loses everything, but watch out for the twist in the tale...
Indeed. Yes. Seen it, done it, lets move on shall we, please?
Ah... But hold your horses, there Chief! The reason the above scenario has become such a cliche is because it is used quite a lot, and the reason it is used quite a lot is because can be a really popular and entertaining cliche in the right hands. This brings us to "21".
I thought "21" was just a fabulous, unpretentious, piece of entertainment. Nothing more and nothing less. It has a young, attractive cast (Jim Sturgess and Kate Bosworth are, frankly, too beautiful to live), the gravity of experienced hands (devious Kevin Spacey and granite-like Laurence Fishburne), a cracking soundtrack (horrible remix of the Stones' "You Can't Always Get What You Want" aside) and, lest I forget to mention it, the backdrop of Las Vegas looks amazing.
I really enjoyed "21", cliches aside.
Next up, "El Orfanato". I saw that at the Cineworld on Broad Street, over a week ago.
There are horror movies that bang you over the head with gore and blood and entrails and there are horror movies that entice you in slowly with atmosphere and silence and dread. "El Orfanato" is definitely one of the latter. I would hesitate to even call "El Orfanato" a horror movie, but it chilled me to the bone.
If you are wanting gore, see you around, guys! You will be happier somewhere else. Other than one small in-your-face moment, there is no gore in this movie. It is much subtler than that.
I intend to give nothing away of the plot. You need to let it unfold yourself. "El Orfanato" is about atmosphere and quiet and dread. The horror of something hidden in the dark. The sound of something on the stairs. The whisper of children's voices, when there are no children present. The chill of something passing close by. The dead. The forgotten. Secrets long buried.
I thought that "El Orfanato" was a genuine, modern, supernatural masterpiece. Really I did. I am a big boy (oooh, err!). I don't get scared watching movies, not anymore, but "El Orfanato", got me holding on tight to the armrest of my seat.
Great movie. 9/10, but only because there is no such thing as a 10/10.
If you do like gore, you could do worse than seeing the Spanish horror movie "[REC]". I saw it last Saturday, again at the Cineworld on Broad Street.
A bubbly reporter, and unseen cameraman, are working on a reality show "While You're Asleep", tasked with following the two man team of a fire crew over a single night. A call comes in that something has happened to an old woman in her apartment and she is apparently trapped. The crew arrive to free her. However, the crew soon realise that something is very wrong with the old woman, and that there is a deadly and lethal force abroad in the apartment block.
"[REC]" is a really short movie (the print I saw was only 78 minutes long, but apparently the Netherlands version is 85 minutes long, so I don't know what has been cut), but barely a minute is wasted. True, there is a slow start as the premise is setup, but "[REC]" picks up immensely once the crew arrive at the apartment block and mayhem breaks loose. Then "[REC]" becomes very violent, very bloody and very vicious indeed. "[REC]" comes across as kind of like "The Blair Witch Project", but with nothing hidden and everything onscreen.
I think that "[REC]" worked really well, and made the most of it's low budget limitations. I was going to write that it was the kind of project that would almost certainly be picked up as a remake candidate by Hollywood, and then I read on IMDB (hi guys!) that this has already happened. The Hollywood remake "Quarantine" is due out in the UK in October. I will probably see it (why not?) but it will have to be going some to beat "[REC]" for energy, excitement and good old fashioned gory thrills.
Jennifer is due home any minute. I will write about the Fratellis and Portishead gigs tomorrow.
Oh, last thing. I might be going to see the Sex Pistols in June at the Carling Academy in Birmingham. Not going to count my chickens before they are hatched, or anything like that, but it looks hopeful. Sometimes it works, knowing a tout for 30 odd years.
Anarchy!
First up, the movie "21" that I saw today at the Cineworld on Broad Street.
You and I have seen this movie many times before.
A talented Innocent is recruited/seduced by an older, devious mentor, with the promise of riches/fame/success if he utilises his talent on behalf of the mentor. Riches/fame/success are delivered, but the effects are corrupting on the Innocent. The Innocent loses everything, but watch out for the twist in the tale...
Indeed. Yes. Seen it, done it, lets move on shall we, please?
Ah... But hold your horses, there Chief! The reason the above scenario has become such a cliche is because it is used quite a lot, and the reason it is used quite a lot is because can be a really popular and entertaining cliche in the right hands. This brings us to "21".
I thought "21" was just a fabulous, unpretentious, piece of entertainment. Nothing more and nothing less. It has a young, attractive cast (Jim Sturgess and Kate Bosworth are, frankly, too beautiful to live), the gravity of experienced hands (devious Kevin Spacey and granite-like Laurence Fishburne), a cracking soundtrack (horrible remix of the Stones' "You Can't Always Get What You Want" aside) and, lest I forget to mention it, the backdrop of Las Vegas looks amazing.
I really enjoyed "21", cliches aside.
Next up, "El Orfanato". I saw that at the Cineworld on Broad Street, over a week ago.
There are horror movies that bang you over the head with gore and blood and entrails and there are horror movies that entice you in slowly with atmosphere and silence and dread. "El Orfanato" is definitely one of the latter. I would hesitate to even call "El Orfanato" a horror movie, but it chilled me to the bone.
If you are wanting gore, see you around, guys! You will be happier somewhere else. Other than one small in-your-face moment, there is no gore in this movie. It is much subtler than that.
I intend to give nothing away of the plot. You need to let it unfold yourself. "El Orfanato" is about atmosphere and quiet and dread. The horror of something hidden in the dark. The sound of something on the stairs. The whisper of children's voices, when there are no children present. The chill of something passing close by. The dead. The forgotten. Secrets long buried.
I thought that "El Orfanato" was a genuine, modern, supernatural masterpiece. Really I did. I am a big boy (oooh, err!). I don't get scared watching movies, not anymore, but "El Orfanato", got me holding on tight to the armrest of my seat.
Great movie. 9/10, but only because there is no such thing as a 10/10.
If you do like gore, you could do worse than seeing the Spanish horror movie "[REC]". I saw it last Saturday, again at the Cineworld on Broad Street.
A bubbly reporter, and unseen cameraman, are working on a reality show "While You're Asleep", tasked with following the two man team of a fire crew over a single night. A call comes in that something has happened to an old woman in her apartment and she is apparently trapped. The crew arrive to free her. However, the crew soon realise that something is very wrong with the old woman, and that there is a deadly and lethal force abroad in the apartment block.
"[REC]" is a really short movie (the print I saw was only 78 minutes long, but apparently the Netherlands version is 85 minutes long, so I don't know what has been cut), but barely a minute is wasted. True, there is a slow start as the premise is setup, but "[REC]" picks up immensely once the crew arrive at the apartment block and mayhem breaks loose. Then "[REC]" becomes very violent, very bloody and very vicious indeed. "[REC]" comes across as kind of like "The Blair Witch Project", but with nothing hidden and everything onscreen.
I think that "[REC]" worked really well, and made the most of it's low budget limitations. I was going to write that it was the kind of project that would almost certainly be picked up as a remake candidate by Hollywood, and then I read on IMDB (hi guys!) that this has already happened. The Hollywood remake "Quarantine" is due out in the UK in October. I will probably see it (why not?) but it will have to be going some to beat "[REC]" for energy, excitement and good old fashioned gory thrills.
Jennifer is due home any minute. I will write about the Fratellis and Portishead gigs tomorrow.
Oh, last thing. I might be going to see the Sex Pistols in June at the Carling Academy in Birmingham. Not going to count my chickens before they are hatched, or anything like that, but it looks hopeful. Sometimes it works, knowing a tout for 30 odd years.
Anarchy!
Monday, April 14, 2008
I have the two days off due to gigs. Portishead last night (amazing gig, but I will write about that another time) and the Fratellis tonight. Other than going out to gigs, I intend to do very little.
Take today. I got up late, had a wank, had a wash, pottered around the house, watched some TV and did some money stuff. I am now going to have something to eat, watch a film and be out the door.
Ah... Chilled.
Take today. I got up late, had a wank, had a wash, pottered around the house, watched some TV and did some money stuff. I am now going to have something to eat, watch a film and be out the door.
Ah... Chilled.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
John Barrowman at the Symphony Hall, Birmingham.
At one point during the concert, John Barrowman told a story about a meeting he had had recently with two BBC executives. John Barrowman said that he had suggested, with a straight face, that they change the meaning of the acroynm BBC from "British Broadcasting Corporation" to "Barrowman Broadcasting Corporation", due to the fact that he seemed to be on that channel constantly. The suggestion was met with stony silence.
Funny story, and it does illustrate how ubiquitous John Barrowman has become on British TV over the past three years.
Actor in "Doctor Who" and "Torchwood", reality show contestant on "Dancing On Ice", judge on "Any Dream Will Do", "How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria?" and "I'd Do Anything", musical performer on all sorts of things from "Magic Of The Musicals" (I think it was called that, but I might be wrong), "Children In Need", "Sports Relief" and "Strictly Come Dancing".
It's not the only work he does. Jennifer and I have seen him onstage a couple of times: A 3 song slot supporting Elaine Paige at one of her concerts, co-starring with Rob Lowe in "A Few Good Men" in the West End and panto last Christmas as Buttons in "Cinderella". We have just booked to see him in panto again this Christmas as "Robin Hood". It was announced at the start of the week and the tickets were practically gone.
John Barrowman is everywhere, does everything and never seems to turn an offer of a gig down. Jennifer reckons that John Barrowman is making the most of the fame he now has and the chance to work it has given him, before the fame slips away. She is probably right. I don't mind. I love John Barrowman. (In a non gay way, of course.)
So, Tuesday night. The second night of the tour.
As these kind of Michael Ball/Russell Watson, MOR, middle aged housewife things go, I thought it was pretty good, very entertaining, but probably not for everybody. Show tunes, standards and pop songs, sung impeccably and with the great enunciation of a seasoned West End musical performer. Pretty bad dancing, but pretty good arse wiggling. Good chat, good stories and good audience repartee. Not ground breaking stuff, frankly, but we had a good time.
There was also a short support slot by Niki Evans, who came 4th on "The X-Factor" last year. She was great and sang "Hot Stuff", "Fields Of Gold" and "My Heart Will Go On". I have written this before, and I know that LB disagrees, but I think with the exception of Rhydian, she was the best singer on "The X-Factor" last year, and it was disgrace that she did not get into the final. And she comes from Brum. I love you Niki!
Interesting audience. What you might call a mixed crowd. Butch looking, tattooed girls. Very clean looking young male couples (the two sitting next to me held hands throughout the concert) who smelt beautifully. Girls in pearls, wearing long dresses with plunging necklines. Bored looking middle aged men. Excited looking middle aged ladies. Old people, young people and one sad looking young boy who was wearing a "Doctor Who" T-shirt. (Not me, but if I had had a "Doctor Who" T-shirt, I certainly would have joined him in wearing it.)
It was a good night. A real lift of a concert. I would certainly see him again.
At one point during the concert, John Barrowman told a story about a meeting he had had recently with two BBC executives. John Barrowman said that he had suggested, with a straight face, that they change the meaning of the acroynm BBC from "British Broadcasting Corporation" to "Barrowman Broadcasting Corporation", due to the fact that he seemed to be on that channel constantly. The suggestion was met with stony silence.
Funny story, and it does illustrate how ubiquitous John Barrowman has become on British TV over the past three years.
Actor in "Doctor Who" and "Torchwood", reality show contestant on "Dancing On Ice", judge on "Any Dream Will Do", "How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria?" and "I'd Do Anything", musical performer on all sorts of things from "Magic Of The Musicals" (I think it was called that, but I might be wrong), "Children In Need", "Sports Relief" and "Strictly Come Dancing".
It's not the only work he does. Jennifer and I have seen him onstage a couple of times: A 3 song slot supporting Elaine Paige at one of her concerts, co-starring with Rob Lowe in "A Few Good Men" in the West End and panto last Christmas as Buttons in "Cinderella". We have just booked to see him in panto again this Christmas as "Robin Hood". It was announced at the start of the week and the tickets were practically gone.
John Barrowman is everywhere, does everything and never seems to turn an offer of a gig down. Jennifer reckons that John Barrowman is making the most of the fame he now has and the chance to work it has given him, before the fame slips away. She is probably right. I don't mind. I love John Barrowman. (In a non gay way, of course.)
So, Tuesday night. The second night of the tour.
As these kind of Michael Ball/Russell Watson, MOR, middle aged housewife things go, I thought it was pretty good, very entertaining, but probably not for everybody. Show tunes, standards and pop songs, sung impeccably and with the great enunciation of a seasoned West End musical performer. Pretty bad dancing, but pretty good arse wiggling. Good chat, good stories and good audience repartee. Not ground breaking stuff, frankly, but we had a good time.
There was also a short support slot by Niki Evans, who came 4th on "The X-Factor" last year. She was great and sang "Hot Stuff", "Fields Of Gold" and "My Heart Will Go On". I have written this before, and I know that LB disagrees, but I think with the exception of Rhydian, she was the best singer on "The X-Factor" last year, and it was disgrace that she did not get into the final. And she comes from Brum. I love you Niki!
Interesting audience. What you might call a mixed crowd. Butch looking, tattooed girls. Very clean looking young male couples (the two sitting next to me held hands throughout the concert) who smelt beautifully. Girls in pearls, wearing long dresses with plunging necklines. Bored looking middle aged men. Excited looking middle aged ladies. Old people, young people and one sad looking young boy who was wearing a "Doctor Who" T-shirt. (Not me, but if I had had a "Doctor Who" T-shirt, I certainly would have joined him in wearing it.)
It was a good night. A real lift of a concert. I would certainly see him again.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
The deal was that I would see things, hear things, do things and that all of this would be reported faithfully on the blog, with only the names changed to protect the guilty and the innocent.
I know that lately I have not been very good in keeping my part of the deal. I am writing crap. Yes I am. I don't know what is going on. I am tired, I have no energy and I am disinterested.
It won't last forever. Bear with me. I was up at 6am today so that I could be washed, fed and the house tidied in preparation of the nice Virgin Media man coming to upgrade our service. We now have way too many fucking channels to choose from. There is such a thing as too much choice.
As for this evening, I really must go to bed. I need the sleep and a lie in tomorrow morning, as tomorrow evening I am going to Wolverhampton to see Portishead.
Note to myself. I must write at least a little about the John Barrowman gig, "El Orfanato" and "[REC]" next time.
I know that lately I have not been very good in keeping my part of the deal. I am writing crap. Yes I am. I don't know what is going on. I am tired, I have no energy and I am disinterested.
It won't last forever. Bear with me. I was up at 6am today so that I could be washed, fed and the house tidied in preparation of the nice Virgin Media man coming to upgrade our service. We now have way too many fucking channels to choose from. There is such a thing as too much choice.
As for this evening, I really must go to bed. I need the sleep and a lie in tomorrow morning, as tomorrow evening I am going to Wolverhampton to see Portishead.
Note to myself. I must write at least a little about the John Barrowman gig, "El Orfanato" and "[REC]" next time.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
"Funny Games U.S."
There might be a couple of little spoilers ahead.
Eleven years or so ago, when we used to go to the cinema together a lot, I took Jennifer to see the original Austrian version of "Funny Games U.S." at the Broadway cinema in Nottingham. Before she agreed to go she asked me what "Funny Games" was about. I told her "Funny Games" was a foreign thriller concerning a nice, affluent, middle class couple, with a pre-teen son, who are taken hostage in their house by a pair of psychopaths. That was everything I could crib from the reviews of "Funny Games" I had read at the time. Jennifer was game, so off we went.
A couple of hours later, emerging shell shocked and ashen faced from the cinema, Jennifer turned to me and this is what she said.
"If you EVER" (big emphasis on the word EVER, here guys) "take me to see a film like that again, we won't be going out together anymore. Got that?"
Er... OK, I said, cowering in the gutter.
Last weekend Jennifer chose not to come to see "Funny Games U.S.". Probably just as well.
A comparison between "Funny Games" and "Funny Games U.S." would be pretty futile, because they are practically the same movie. Word for word, scene for scene and shot for shot, but what a brilliant, shocking, gruelling and uncompromising piece of work it still is.
I loved "Funny Games U.S." for exactly the same reasons that I loved the original. The unbroken ratcheting up of the tension and unexpected lack of release. The subverting of the very language of cinema. (Blatant acknowledgement of the "fourth wall" and, hey!, if you don't like the way a scene is going, why not just rewind and start again?) The way that the worst of the violence is just slightly off screen. What did you see? What did they do? It's an old trick, but it is still very effective.
As for the ending? Almost written as an afterthought. Indifferent, unimportant and devastating.
Frankly I feared what might happen to "Funny Games U.S." in the hands of Hollywoodian style producers and actors, even with Michael Haneke still in the Director's chair, but I needn't have worried. There are astonishing performances by everybody in the cast, but no better than the performances of Michael Pitt as a twinkly eyed charming lunatic, and Naomi Watts, digging deep into reserves of hysterical emotion and appearing to really suffer.
"Funny Games U.S." does lose out slightly to the original, but only because it is practically the same movie as the one I saw in 1997 and so I knew exactly where the plot was going, but it is still an astonishing piece of work.
Much recommended, but do not go to see if you are expecting a generic family-in-peril thriller.
There might be a couple of little spoilers ahead.
Eleven years or so ago, when we used to go to the cinema together a lot, I took Jennifer to see the original Austrian version of "Funny Games U.S." at the Broadway cinema in Nottingham. Before she agreed to go she asked me what "Funny Games" was about. I told her "Funny Games" was a foreign thriller concerning a nice, affluent, middle class couple, with a pre-teen son, who are taken hostage in their house by a pair of psychopaths. That was everything I could crib from the reviews of "Funny Games" I had read at the time. Jennifer was game, so off we went.
A couple of hours later, emerging shell shocked and ashen faced from the cinema, Jennifer turned to me and this is what she said.
"If you EVER" (big emphasis on the word EVER, here guys) "take me to see a film like that again, we won't be going out together anymore. Got that?"
Er... OK, I said, cowering in the gutter.
Last weekend Jennifer chose not to come to see "Funny Games U.S.". Probably just as well.
A comparison between "Funny Games" and "Funny Games U.S." would be pretty futile, because they are practically the same movie. Word for word, scene for scene and shot for shot, but what a brilliant, shocking, gruelling and uncompromising piece of work it still is.
I loved "Funny Games U.S." for exactly the same reasons that I loved the original. The unbroken ratcheting up of the tension and unexpected lack of release. The subverting of the very language of cinema. (Blatant acknowledgement of the "fourth wall" and, hey!, if you don't like the way a scene is going, why not just rewind and start again?) The way that the worst of the violence is just slightly off screen. What did you see? What did they do? It's an old trick, but it is still very effective.
As for the ending? Almost written as an afterthought. Indifferent, unimportant and devastating.
Frankly I feared what might happen to "Funny Games U.S." in the hands of Hollywoodian style producers and actors, even with Michael Haneke still in the Director's chair, but I needn't have worried. There are astonishing performances by everybody in the cast, but no better than the performances of Michael Pitt as a twinkly eyed charming lunatic, and Naomi Watts, digging deep into reserves of hysterical emotion and appearing to really suffer.
"Funny Games U.S." does lose out slightly to the original, but only because it is practically the same movie as the one I saw in 1997 and so I knew exactly where the plot was going, but it is still an astonishing piece of work.
Much recommended, but do not go to see if you are expecting a generic family-in-peril thriller.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
We were out last night at the John Barrowman gig at the Symphony Hall. I need to write about that, and also "Funny Games U.S." and "El Orfanato" that I saw at the weekend, but not tonight. I am very tired.
Instead, I have not done a 'Me Me Me' for a very long time. That will do for tonight's post.
Courtesy of Life On Planet Me.
What's the worst club you have ever been to?
I have been to so few clubs in my life that I cannot really name any. I have had a good time in all of them.
What's been your worst job?
The one I am doing at the moment. I have not had that many full time jobs in my life, so far, but am increasingly of the opinion that I must have been very lucky in that I really enjoyed all of my previous jobs.
Whats the best record ever made?
Oooh, lots of records are the best record ever made. "Paperback Writer" by the Beatles, "Country Feedback" by R.E.M., "36D" by the Beautiful South, "Northern Lights" by Renaissance...
What do you collect?
I used to collect comics. I used to collect books. I used to collect videos. (VHS, of course.) I used to collect prints. Lots of 'used to collect'. I collect nothing now except years and anger.
What's the coolest thing in your house?
I don't have anything cool in my house, but my TV is pretty good.
What's the best piece of advice you’ve ever had?
"Just because everybody else shits themselves, it doesn't mean that you have to." My Dad.
Whats your vice?
Food, drink and pornography.
Who was your first love?
Julie Baker. (Real name as well.) I think I was eleven. She was lovely. I imagine that to this day she has no idea that I adored her.
On a scale of one to ten how good are you in the sack?
I have been told that I am a one. Probably right.
What's your most prized possession from childhood?
I have a medal that my Dad gave me. It was engraved to a 'Private Parker'. My Dad said that it had been given to him for his services to British and Irish Intelligence. My Dad's last name was not Parker. I questioned him on it. He told me that it was his 'Secret Agent Name'. Oh, of course... How foolish of me. I think I was six when my Dad gave me that medal.
Have you ever had a homosexual experience?
No.
Do you have a recurring dream?
No.
What's the worst item of clothing you’ve ever worn?
Big shoes. Early 80's.
If you had a Tardis what time would you go back to?
The early sixties to meet my Mom and Dad before kids, age and illness got in the way.
What's your lamest claim to fame?
My cousin was in a band that featured pre-fame members of UB40. Also, I shook Pat Roache's hand (not lame, because he was a great guy).
Instead, I have not done a 'Me Me Me' for a very long time. That will do for tonight's post.
Courtesy of Life On Planet Me.
What's the worst club you have ever been to?
I have been to so few clubs in my life that I cannot really name any. I have had a good time in all of them.
What's been your worst job?
The one I am doing at the moment. I have not had that many full time jobs in my life, so far, but am increasingly of the opinion that I must have been very lucky in that I really enjoyed all of my previous jobs.
Whats the best record ever made?
Oooh, lots of records are the best record ever made. "Paperback Writer" by the Beatles, "Country Feedback" by R.E.M., "36D" by the Beautiful South, "Northern Lights" by Renaissance...
What do you collect?
I used to collect comics. I used to collect books. I used to collect videos. (VHS, of course.) I used to collect prints. Lots of 'used to collect'. I collect nothing now except years and anger.
What's the coolest thing in your house?
I don't have anything cool in my house, but my TV is pretty good.
What's the best piece of advice you’ve ever had?
"Just because everybody else shits themselves, it doesn't mean that you have to." My Dad.
Whats your vice?
Food, drink and pornography.
Who was your first love?
Julie Baker. (Real name as well.) I think I was eleven. She was lovely. I imagine that to this day she has no idea that I adored her.
On a scale of one to ten how good are you in the sack?
I have been told that I am a one. Probably right.
What's your most prized possession from childhood?
I have a medal that my Dad gave me. It was engraved to a 'Private Parker'. My Dad said that it had been given to him for his services to British and Irish Intelligence. My Dad's last name was not Parker. I questioned him on it. He told me that it was his 'Secret Agent Name'. Oh, of course... How foolish of me. I think I was six when my Dad gave me that medal.
Have you ever had a homosexual experience?
No.
Do you have a recurring dream?
No.
What's the worst item of clothing you’ve ever worn?
Big shoes. Early 80's.
If you had a Tardis what time would you go back to?
The early sixties to meet my Mom and Dad before kids, age and illness got in the way.
What's your lamest claim to fame?
My cousin was in a band that featured pre-fame members of UB40. Also, I shook Pat Roache's hand (not lame, because he was a great guy).
Monday, April 07, 2008
Last night I dreamt that it was Christmas Eve.
Jennifer and I were going last minute Christmas shopping, so we had decided to rise early. We were in the same bed. It should have been dark outside but, for some reason, the bedroom was full of light. When we looked out of the window we realised that it had been snowing. The streetlamps were bright yellow and the light was reflecting off the snow. So bright. Too bright.
Then we were at the shops. It was very busy. People were pushing trolleys full of toys and food. Slade's "Merry Christmas Everybody" was playing over the sound system. People were dressed in heavy boots and colourful jumpers. Somebody was handing out mulled wine. Jennfier told me to pace myself. She didn't want me drunk at 7am, as we had a long day ahead.
Then it was the evening. Jennifer and I had a gig booked at the Symphony Hall. It was the band Supertramp, recently reformed with Roger Hodgson back on lead vocals. I cannot remember anything about the show, but Jennifer said that she liked it a lot.
After the show, Jennifer and I walked slowly around Centenary Square, watching the ice skaters. We were wrapped up toasty against the cold. It started to snow. Jennifer and I kissed in the shade of a tree while the decorative lights in Centenary Square went on and off, on and off. Red and yellow and pink and green.
I woke up with a terrible feeling of sadness. Things that never were and probably will never be.
********
Charlton Heston died on Saturday. He was 83.
I prefer not to remember Charlton Heston as the misguided demagogue of gun lovers everywhere. I prefer to remember Charlton Heston as the star of three of the best science fiction films of all time, made during a period of time when very few serious A-listers would give a science fiction script even a cursory look.
So, the star of "Planet Of The Apes", "The Omega Man" and "Soylent Green", I salute you. Rest in peace.
Jennifer and I were going last minute Christmas shopping, so we had decided to rise early. We were in the same bed. It should have been dark outside but, for some reason, the bedroom was full of light. When we looked out of the window we realised that it had been snowing. The streetlamps were bright yellow and the light was reflecting off the snow. So bright. Too bright.
Then we were at the shops. It was very busy. People were pushing trolleys full of toys and food. Slade's "Merry Christmas Everybody" was playing over the sound system. People were dressed in heavy boots and colourful jumpers. Somebody was handing out mulled wine. Jennfier told me to pace myself. She didn't want me drunk at 7am, as we had a long day ahead.
Then it was the evening. Jennifer and I had a gig booked at the Symphony Hall. It was the band Supertramp, recently reformed with Roger Hodgson back on lead vocals. I cannot remember anything about the show, but Jennifer said that she liked it a lot.
After the show, Jennifer and I walked slowly around Centenary Square, watching the ice skaters. We were wrapped up toasty against the cold. It started to snow. Jennifer and I kissed in the shade of a tree while the decorative lights in Centenary Square went on and off, on and off. Red and yellow and pink and green.
I woke up with a terrible feeling of sadness. Things that never were and probably will never be.
********
Charlton Heston died on Saturday. He was 83.
I prefer not to remember Charlton Heston as the misguided demagogue of gun lovers everywhere. I prefer to remember Charlton Heston as the star of three of the best science fiction films of all time, made during a period of time when very few serious A-listers would give a science fiction script even a cursory look.
So, the star of "Planet Of The Apes", "The Omega Man" and "Soylent Green", I salute you. Rest in peace.
Thursday, April 03, 2008
I have a prediction.
I predict that within 10 years I will be able to go to see a gig at the NEC called, something like, "Here and Now: The 90's - The Best Of Britpop", which will feature bands like Ocean Colour Scene, Shed Seven, Catatonia, Inspiral Carpets, Sleeper and Echobelly, all on the same bill, playing their greatest hits. I predict that the gig will be standing room only, filled mostly with guys in their mid to late thirties (I will be in my fifties by then, but I will live with it) and I will have a thoroughly good time.
I made this prediction to a guy at work called Steve Broad, who is in his mid twenties. (A good guy. He sometimes gives me and Jennifer a lift.) He thought this prediction was one of the most uncool and saddest things he had ever heard, because Britpop should have been way too cool to allow that to happen.
I have seen Sixties compilation shows (The Tremeloes, The Marmalade, The Troggs, Dave Berry, etc.), Seventies compilation shows (The Osmonds, David Cassidy, David Essex, The Rubettes, Mungo Jerry, etc.) and Eighties compilation shows (The Human League, ABC, Nik Kershaw, Nick Heyward, Paul Young, etc.) and have, more or less, enjoyed all of them.
What's wrong with reliving your youth and singing along to the songs that you love, as long as old music is not the only thing you are listening to?
Nothing wrong with that.
It might be uncool but "Here and Now: The 90's - The Best Of Britpop" is going to happen. I would put money on it.
I predict that within 10 years I will be able to go to see a gig at the NEC called, something like, "Here and Now: The 90's - The Best Of Britpop", which will feature bands like Ocean Colour Scene, Shed Seven, Catatonia, Inspiral Carpets, Sleeper and Echobelly, all on the same bill, playing their greatest hits. I predict that the gig will be standing room only, filled mostly with guys in their mid to late thirties (I will be in my fifties by then, but I will live with it) and I will have a thoroughly good time.
I made this prediction to a guy at work called Steve Broad, who is in his mid twenties. (A good guy. He sometimes gives me and Jennifer a lift.) He thought this prediction was one of the most uncool and saddest things he had ever heard, because Britpop should have been way too cool to allow that to happen.
I have seen Sixties compilation shows (The Tremeloes, The Marmalade, The Troggs, Dave Berry, etc.), Seventies compilation shows (The Osmonds, David Cassidy, David Essex, The Rubettes, Mungo Jerry, etc.) and Eighties compilation shows (The Human League, ABC, Nik Kershaw, Nick Heyward, Paul Young, etc.) and have, more or less, enjoyed all of them.
What's wrong with reliving your youth and singing along to the songs that you love, as long as old music is not the only thing you are listening to?
Nothing wrong with that.
It might be uncool but "Here and Now: The 90's - The Best Of Britpop" is going to happen. I would put money on it.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
I am kind of shell shocked at having to get up at 5am for the last two days, to get to work for 7am. Two more days of this to go. It was a favour for Jennifer.
I think that is all about all there is to say, at this juncture.
Near comatose and slumped in front of the TV over the last couple of nights, I have been watching the "Doctor Who" Christmas Specials that the BBC are repeating prior to the new series starting on Saturday. "The Runaway Bride" was on this evening, which was the one that featured new companion Catherine Tate for the first time. I thought it was really, really good. Much better than I remembered it. Captain Sadness is really looking forward to the new series. I have washed my anorak and everything.
One last thing.
Is it just me, are all male managers in reality just yapping little dogs with erect penile dysfunction? Or do I just have a bad attitude? Jennifer has accused me of the latter. I need to know.
I think that is all about all there is to say, at this juncture.
Near comatose and slumped in front of the TV over the last couple of nights, I have been watching the "Doctor Who" Christmas Specials that the BBC are repeating prior to the new series starting on Saturday. "The Runaway Bride" was on this evening, which was the one that featured new companion Catherine Tate for the first time. I thought it was really, really good. Much better than I remembered it. Captain Sadness is really looking forward to the new series. I have washed my anorak and everything.
One last thing.
Is it just me, are all male managers in reality just yapping little dogs with erect penile dysfunction? Or do I just have a bad attitude? Jennifer has accused me of the latter. I need to know.
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