Thursday, 31 January 2013
Put Your Head Back In The Clouds
In a rare spout of doing some actual writing, I was asked and agreed to write a review of the reissue of Julian Cope's 1987 album Saint Julian. Read it here.
Tuesday, 29 January 2013
Southern Discomfort
Quentin Tarantino first came to my attention, I suspect like many, when I saw Pulp Fiction at some point in the 1990s. It was on TV, I caught it by accident (being a very culturally unaware teenager, I had little idea what I was sitting down to) and thought it was brilliant. Not long after, Reservoir Dogs was on, and that too struck me as a fine piece of film making. I didn't pick up on a lot of the references I might have done now, just let myself be entertained.
Subsequently, I've not found myself too taken with his output. Some friends and I rented Jackie Brown and were so bored, we stopped the video to instead watch National Lampoon's Loaded Weapon 1, only going back to our hire with some reluctance. Since then, I've maintained his career was a case of someone shooting their load on their early work, albeit in spectacular style in a manner the vast majority of us could never manage. Kill Bill was fine, though I have no wish to sit through them again, and Inglorious Basterds I have yet to see, mainly due to the presence of Brad Pitt.
No matter, Django Unchained seemed interesting enough to warrant attention. Also, I had a free ticket to the Cornerhouse cinema in Manchester that I won in a pub quiz - result.
First: this flick has gotten a lot of attention based on the constant use of a certain word beginning with "n". As some white dickhead brought up in Cumbria, I've little idea of the impacts of slavery, racism and the like from any personal background, so it's hard for me to gauge on the grand social impacts of this, as seems to be the focus of many reviews. What I can say is that it didn't get in the way. It doesn't take a huge leap of imagination to think that that was how people talked in the South of the USA in 1858.
Not that historical accuracy is the name of the game here. If you're bored, you can check out websites that list the numerous anachronisms to be found. Yet as always with young Quentin, everything is about the characters and their dialogue.
Of which we mainly focus on two: slave Django (Jamie Foxx) has recently been bought and is being marched across Texas. Whatever fate was in store is changed by Dr King Schultz (Christoph Waltz), a German dentist-turned-Bounty Hunter who needs our hero to identify three marks. From there, the two go on to form an effective partnership in collecting rewards placed on the heads of various neer-do-wells.
As a story goes, it's nothing that special and it seemed odd to me that the whole "revenge" angle in the posters and suchlike doesn't really exist for the vast majority of the movie. Indeed, it's more a "rescue" story as the two leads plot to find and free Django's wife, Broomhilda, who only seems to exist in the story as an atypical Damsel in Distress.
This being Tarantino, it all looks and sounds wonderful and Waltz is a top-level enough actor to carry off his character's love of drama in style. Without doubt, he's the best thing here, especially as Foxx is too much of a blank slate to really root for to any degree. Having not seen him in Basterds, I can understand the fuss about his acting chops and imagine I'll be seeing him doing a lot more English-language work in the near future.
On the other side of the good/bad guy divide , Leonardo di Caprio is great as the plantation owner with questionable theories on white supremacy. I've never really been a fan of the fella's work before, perhaps because I think he has an odd-shaped head, but he does the job well here, aided by Samuel L. Jackson as a fiercely loyal slave.
In all, a decent movie, entertaining if nothing else and fans of its creator will find lots of love. Personally, I just liked a few of the cameos. Seeing Tom Wopat (Luke Duke to my childhood self) appear as a Marshall was strangely one of the highlights of the whole show. Shame he didn't give out a "yee-haw".
Subsequently, I've not found myself too taken with his output. Some friends and I rented Jackie Brown and were so bored, we stopped the video to instead watch National Lampoon's Loaded Weapon 1, only going back to our hire with some reluctance. Since then, I've maintained his career was a case of someone shooting their load on their early work, albeit in spectacular style in a manner the vast majority of us could never manage. Kill Bill was fine, though I have no wish to sit through them again, and Inglorious Basterds I have yet to see, mainly due to the presence of Brad Pitt.
No matter, Django Unchained seemed interesting enough to warrant attention. Also, I had a free ticket to the Cornerhouse cinema in Manchester that I won in a pub quiz - result.
First: this flick has gotten a lot of attention based on the constant use of a certain word beginning with "n". As some white dickhead brought up in Cumbria, I've little idea of the impacts of slavery, racism and the like from any personal background, so it's hard for me to gauge on the grand social impacts of this, as seems to be the focus of many reviews. What I can say is that it didn't get in the way. It doesn't take a huge leap of imagination to think that that was how people talked in the South of the USA in 1858.
Not that historical accuracy is the name of the game here. If you're bored, you can check out websites that list the numerous anachronisms to be found. Yet as always with young Quentin, everything is about the characters and their dialogue.
Of which we mainly focus on two: slave Django (Jamie Foxx) has recently been bought and is being marched across Texas. Whatever fate was in store is changed by Dr King Schultz (Christoph Waltz), a German dentist-turned-Bounty Hunter who needs our hero to identify three marks. From there, the two go on to form an effective partnership in collecting rewards placed on the heads of various neer-do-wells.
As a story goes, it's nothing that special and it seemed odd to me that the whole "revenge" angle in the posters and suchlike doesn't really exist for the vast majority of the movie. Indeed, it's more a "rescue" story as the two leads plot to find and free Django's wife, Broomhilda, who only seems to exist in the story as an atypical Damsel in Distress.
This being Tarantino, it all looks and sounds wonderful and Waltz is a top-level enough actor to carry off his character's love of drama in style. Without doubt, he's the best thing here, especially as Foxx is too much of a blank slate to really root for to any degree. Having not seen him in Basterds, I can understand the fuss about his acting chops and imagine I'll be seeing him doing a lot more English-language work in the near future.
On the other side of the good/bad guy divide , Leonardo di Caprio is great as the plantation owner with questionable theories on white supremacy. I've never really been a fan of the fella's work before, perhaps because I think he has an odd-shaped head, but he does the job well here, aided by Samuel L. Jackson as a fiercely loyal slave.
In all, a decent movie, entertaining if nothing else and fans of its creator will find lots of love. Personally, I just liked a few of the cameos. Seeing Tom Wopat (Luke Duke to my childhood self) appear as a Marshall was strangely one of the highlights of the whole show. Shame he didn't give out a "yee-haw".
Friday, 18 January 2013
Fast Forward Failure
There's been a fair bit of hoo-ha in the media in recent days about "the death of the High Street", what with big names like HMV, Jessops and Blockbusters trying to duck the financial vultures. The Internet is being blamed and all the pundits are offering their opinions.
To me, the main point is that a load of poor saps are going to be losing their jobs, and in this age, you know they are going to be down the creek without a boat, let alone a paddle. As someone whose job seems to under threat, they have my utmost sympathy.
On the other hand, the likes of HMV and Blockbusters themselves are suffering the same fates as the small independent stores they played a part in putting out of business back in the 1980s and 90s. An example would be the one in my hometown of Whitehaven - Flix was a video rental place that I imagine sprung up when technology got to the point where the masses could have their own VHS players and enjoy a whole new world of entertainment. Or it could have started up in the Betamax boom and quickly readjusted.
In any case, to a young lad, it was a treasure trove of stuff you wanted to watch. As I recall, you paid for overnight rentals - yet my mother always insisted my got something out on Saturday, as the place was closed on Sunday and it meant you got to keep it an extra day. As the lad next door was only a year older than me, we would combine forces to get stuff like Transformers: The Movie and watch in baffled silence. It's a film I found for 50p in Oxfam a few years ago, and it still failed to make too much sense, the likes of Orson Wells, Eric Idle and Leonard Nimoy offering their talents being no help at all.
An abiding childhood memory I have thanks to this shop is when my brother, who was in the Cub Scouts, was away on some camping weekend. My mother was chosen to go with, leaving the house to Pop and I. As he often worked weekends, this was a rare chance for us to spend time together. He took us down to the shop and we picked a video each - which were Rocky V (me) and Die Hard 2.
Though I would later come to look the Rocky franchise, my choice was dire. To compensate, my dad let me stay up late to watch Bruce Willis do his thing. I loved the swearing, the violence and the humour and my dad swore me to secrecy about me seeing it. Some 20 years later, I accidentally let slip about this night at a family event, and my mother still managed to kick off about it.
To their credit, whoever ran Flix tried to keep up with the changing times. They began renting out video games on a weekly basis, which was superb. Later, they began selling as well, and several of my favourite early gaming choices came from there: Mercenary, Transport Tycoon and Frontier: Elite 2 spring to mind, and anyone who knows games will recall how they had a bad habit of eating up the hours. My brother and I even had rare moments of bonding after we put our money together to buy Pizza Tycoon. It was a bizarre little game that even allowed you to design your own pizzas, as well as engaging with gangsters and breaking into the competition after hours to smash the place up.
Sadly, once Blockbusters moved into town, the game was up and before I knew it, Flix had become a Top Shop. Today, it's not surprising the same shops are on their arse - shopping online is way easier, especially since it has become possible to stream movies onto your TV or download your albums. Times move on, but I'd like to add that I always did rewind the videos we rented. Me ma made me.
To me, the main point is that a load of poor saps are going to be losing their jobs, and in this age, you know they are going to be down the creek without a boat, let alone a paddle. As someone whose job seems to under threat, they have my utmost sympathy.
On the other hand, the likes of HMV and Blockbusters themselves are suffering the same fates as the small independent stores they played a part in putting out of business back in the 1980s and 90s. An example would be the one in my hometown of Whitehaven - Flix was a video rental place that I imagine sprung up when technology got to the point where the masses could have their own VHS players and enjoy a whole new world of entertainment. Or it could have started up in the Betamax boom and quickly readjusted.
In any case, to a young lad, it was a treasure trove of stuff you wanted to watch. As I recall, you paid for overnight rentals - yet my mother always insisted my got something out on Saturday, as the place was closed on Sunday and it meant you got to keep it an extra day. As the lad next door was only a year older than me, we would combine forces to get stuff like Transformers: The Movie and watch in baffled silence. It's a film I found for 50p in Oxfam a few years ago, and it still failed to make too much sense, the likes of Orson Wells, Eric Idle and Leonard Nimoy offering their talents being no help at all.
An abiding childhood memory I have thanks to this shop is when my brother, who was in the Cub Scouts, was away on some camping weekend. My mother was chosen to go with, leaving the house to Pop and I. As he often worked weekends, this was a rare chance for us to spend time together. He took us down to the shop and we picked a video each - which were Rocky V (me) and Die Hard 2.
Though I would later come to look the Rocky franchise, my choice was dire. To compensate, my dad let me stay up late to watch Bruce Willis do his thing. I loved the swearing, the violence and the humour and my dad swore me to secrecy about me seeing it. Some 20 years later, I accidentally let slip about this night at a family event, and my mother still managed to kick off about it.
To their credit, whoever ran Flix tried to keep up with the changing times. They began renting out video games on a weekly basis, which was superb. Later, they began selling as well, and several of my favourite early gaming choices came from there: Mercenary, Transport Tycoon and Frontier: Elite 2 spring to mind, and anyone who knows games will recall how they had a bad habit of eating up the hours. My brother and I even had rare moments of bonding after we put our money together to buy Pizza Tycoon. It was a bizarre little game that even allowed you to design your own pizzas, as well as engaging with gangsters and breaking into the competition after hours to smash the place up.
Sadly, once Blockbusters moved into town, the game was up and before I knew it, Flix had become a Top Shop. Today, it's not surprising the same shops are on their arse - shopping online is way easier, especially since it has become possible to stream movies onto your TV or download your albums. Times move on, but I'd like to add that I always did rewind the videos we rented. Me ma made me.
Sunday, 6 January 2013
Man's Crisis of Identity in the First Half of the 21st Century
And with that, another year passes, 2012 becoming another set of digits confined to the past as we continue our march through time, that ends only when we feel the icy finger of the Reaper on our shoulders as he prepares to guide us into the cold comfort of the endless void.
Yes, Manchester City winning the league really hurt.
On the plus side, we had the following...
Footballer of the Year
Bit worried on who I pick, as last year I chose Phil Jones - who subsequently spent 2012 either injured or struggling for form.
But I can't help but say Robin van Persie. If you'd asked me before last summer about him playing for United, I might have scoffed. Yet here he is, and scoring goals for fun and pulling the team out of the shite on a regular basis. He's got everything you want in a striker, and if we're to have any chance of winning anything this season, it rests in large part on him staying fit.
Album of the Year
I haven't bought any "new" album from 2012. Hearing the new big thing, the XX, on TV left me feeling baffled, unmoved and very old. So, this has to go to World Party's Arkology five CD set. Karl Wallinger has long been a master of the pop hook and after some years out due to illness, it's great to see him putting something out there. A mix of live numbers, unused songs and newbies, there was more than enough to keep you going for ages, and the presentation was ace too!
Game of the Year
Tough call, this. Both Max Payne 3 and Mass Effect 3 featured great storylines, superb graphics and acting to match, making for top experiences. The original Mass Effect finally coming out on Playstation 3 was also very welcome. Re-establishing my love affair with the Football Manager franchise has brought about many late nights looking at a glorified spreadsheet.
Though a fair few people have excused ME3 for its ending, I'm not one of them. This wasn't helped by when I finally got the "Extended Cut" ending download, it bloody crashed right before the end scenes. Bah!
With that in mind, my choice instead goes to X-COM: Enemy Unknown. Basic in idea, but superbly executed and creating enough tension to keep me nervous for hours on end. Not a game for everyone, but those of us around for the original UFO game in the 1990s will have lots to love.
Raging Knobrash of the Year
So many to choose from! Pretty much the entire government has shown themselves to be a bunch of uncaring, quasi-sociopathic tossers in recent history. It's a tragic state of affairs when that fuckwit Boris Johnson is seen gurning on the cover of GQ magazine.
Indeed, it was a narrow call between him and the winner. However, Michael Gove gets my nod on the basis that he's screwing over a generation of children for his own political gains. Appealing as a return to "traditional" Conservative values to the likes of the Daily Mail, about the only vaguely amusing thing about this complete penile sore is that there's a chance him and Johnson will squabble with each other about who gets to put the knife into David Cameron's back first in their own personal lust for glory. Here's hoping for a total meltdown of all related parties in 2013!
Yes, Manchester City winning the league really hurt.
On the plus side, we had the following...
Footballer of the Year
Bit worried on who I pick, as last year I chose Phil Jones - who subsequently spent 2012 either injured or struggling for form.
But I can't help but say Robin van Persie. If you'd asked me before last summer about him playing for United, I might have scoffed. Yet here he is, and scoring goals for fun and pulling the team out of the shite on a regular basis. He's got everything you want in a striker, and if we're to have any chance of winning anything this season, it rests in large part on him staying fit.
Album of the Year
I haven't bought any "new" album from 2012. Hearing the new big thing, the XX, on TV left me feeling baffled, unmoved and very old. So, this has to go to World Party's Arkology five CD set. Karl Wallinger has long been a master of the pop hook and after some years out due to illness, it's great to see him putting something out there. A mix of live numbers, unused songs and newbies, there was more than enough to keep you going for ages, and the presentation was ace too!
Game of the Year
Tough call, this. Both Max Payne 3 and Mass Effect 3 featured great storylines, superb graphics and acting to match, making for top experiences. The original Mass Effect finally coming out on Playstation 3 was also very welcome. Re-establishing my love affair with the Football Manager franchise has brought about many late nights looking at a glorified spreadsheet.
Though a fair few people have excused ME3 for its ending, I'm not one of them. This wasn't helped by when I finally got the "Extended Cut" ending download, it bloody crashed right before the end scenes. Bah!
With that in mind, my choice instead goes to X-COM: Enemy Unknown. Basic in idea, but superbly executed and creating enough tension to keep me nervous for hours on end. Not a game for everyone, but those of us around for the original UFO game in the 1990s will have lots to love.
Raging Knobrash of the Year
So many to choose from! Pretty much the entire government has shown themselves to be a bunch of uncaring, quasi-sociopathic tossers in recent history. It's a tragic state of affairs when that fuckwit Boris Johnson is seen gurning on the cover of GQ magazine.
Indeed, it was a narrow call between him and the winner. However, Michael Gove gets my nod on the basis that he's screwing over a generation of children for his own political gains. Appealing as a return to "traditional" Conservative values to the likes of the Daily Mail, about the only vaguely amusing thing about this complete penile sore is that there's a chance him and Johnson will squabble with each other about who gets to put the knife into David Cameron's back first in their own personal lust for glory. Here's hoping for a total meltdown of all related parties in 2013!
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