In late December, or possibly early January, I forget which, I found one of my childhood teddy bears and had some sort of epiphany about a part of myself I had lost.
Specifically, that childlike - note, childlike, not childish - part of myself which can still be innocent.
I've expressed this in the last week or so through a couple of media - Pokémon, and tonight (well, late last night I suppose now technically) the film Ghostbusters.
Ghostbusters is the kind of film they don't really make any more outside of Pixar.
Although there's an undertone of Bill Murray's character basically hitting on anything that moves, that aside, Ghostbusters is that rare film that's just outright daftness.
The concept is insane, the characters are almost all idiots, the whole film is crazy and Bill Murray is clearly riffing on every single line in the script, having the time of his life.
But it all comes together to make a film that's not too dumb for adults and not too smart for kids.
As I said, aside from Murray's hitting on people it's totally innocent on every other level.
There's a kind of purity in that; comedy that's just funny and timeless without needing to be breaking the fourth wall or overly shocking or dating itself with political references.
Speaking of purity, I recently started playing through a borrowed Pokémon Yellow on my Game Boy Colour.
For all the offensive nicknames I gave to both my character and Gary's, Pokémon is totally innocent and even pure in so many ways.
I'm not a huge fan of the depressing Lavender Town (ALL MY POKEMON ARE DEAD), but the game is mainly just about running about doing the quests, raising your Pokémon, having fun with it.
The creator of the game always made sure that there was no blood in the game and no Pokémon die in battle, they only ever faint. He said there was too much violence in the world already and I think there's something quietly beautiful in that.
This appreciation of something childlike is something that can go hand in hand with adulthood and maturity and a personality trait we could all use.
I know I've been missing it for far too long.
7 April 2010
24 March 2010
The Cleveland Show
So, Family Guy's very own Cleveland Brown now has his very own show with a much more awesome theme song.
My thoughts on Family Guy are substantially negative at this point. But the last thing I would possibly suggest would be giving Cleveland his own show. That'd be like giving Maggie Simpson her own show.
Or Flanders.
I'm saying it's a bad idea, you see.
Point is, having watched the first ten episodes of The Cleveland Show, I can safely say that it's better than Family Guy.
And worse than Family Guy.
...Bear with me.
Family Guy's problem now is that it's not a TV show, it's 22 jokes shoved together, badly. Storyline is irrelevant.
In that sense, The Cleveland Show is infinitely superior. Cleveland's family actually has issues and storylines actually progress, even if Cleveland has become substantially more of a dislikable idiot since leaving Family Guy.
However, Family Guy's cutaways, as infuriating as they are, are often pretty funny, as much as I hate to admit it.
This is where Cleveland Show fails - it's rarely funny, although there are some occasional home run jokes.
This makes Cleveland Show the superior programme in this writer's humble opinion, but it still has a few problems.
For one thing, Cleveland Show's premise is essentially Family Guy, but black. And with a bear instead of a dog as his best friend.
Either way, why I keep watching it is beyond me. I must suffer from quite extreme boredom.
My thoughts on Family Guy are substantially negative at this point. But the last thing I would possibly suggest would be giving Cleveland his own show. That'd be like giving Maggie Simpson her own show.
Or Flanders.
I'm saying it's a bad idea, you see.
Point is, having watched the first ten episodes of The Cleveland Show, I can safely say that it's better than Family Guy.
And worse than Family Guy.
...Bear with me.
Family Guy's problem now is that it's not a TV show, it's 22 jokes shoved together, badly. Storyline is irrelevant.
In that sense, The Cleveland Show is infinitely superior. Cleveland's family actually has issues and storylines actually progress, even if Cleveland has become substantially more of a dislikable idiot since leaving Family Guy.
However, Family Guy's cutaways, as infuriating as they are, are often pretty funny, as much as I hate to admit it.
This is where Cleveland Show fails - it's rarely funny, although there are some occasional home run jokes.
This makes Cleveland Show the superior programme in this writer's humble opinion, but it still has a few problems.
For one thing, Cleveland Show's premise is essentially Family Guy, but black. And with a bear instead of a dog as his best friend.
Either way, why I keep watching it is beyond me. I must suffer from quite extreme boredom.
27 February 2010
Torture porn
So in the last couple of weeks I've had the 'pleasure' of watching a whole bunch of the horror genre known as 'torture porn' - basically, the first three instalments in the Saw series and Hostel.
It's an 'art' form with virtually no legitimacy, and the critical panning of these films comes as no surprise to me (although I was bemused to find that Hostel got better ratings than the Saw films).
First, let's discuss the Saw films. I expected these to be just mindless bloody violence, and I didn't think I'd even make it through the first one.
I was wrong. Don't misunderstand me, these films have plenty of mindless violence thrown in, searching for that adrenaline rush of horror in the audience.
I was surprised at how psychological they were. Admittedly there are major elements of Seven thrown into them, so to a greater or lesser extent they're ripped off.
However, especially the first Saw has quite an interesting concept, with some fascinating twists; it even has some thriller elements thrown in along with the horror.
The second and third volumes are a bit more torture porn-y, but still not nearly as bad as was implied. By the end of the third film, Jigsaw has taken on a sort of anti-hero status, although thankfully the twist ending puts a stop to that before it goes too far.
All in all, these films are not nearly as bad as people implied they would be. I actually quite liked them. They also have a blackhearted sense of humour that I very much appreciated.
I also approved of how actors from the previous films in the series would return for flashbacks. It adds a sense of legitimacy to building up the series' universe around its characters. Compare that to say, the Nightmare On Elm Street series, in which virtually every new film meant a cast of new actors and characters (bar Robert Englund as Freddie Kreuger).
The first Saw is a genuinely interesting, original film just with some elements of Seven spun into it. The second two are not nearly as good, because the concept's being re-used, and they really aren't that good. But I still liked them quite a bit.
Hostel, on the other hand, I despised. I am staggered that Hostel got reasonable reviews compared to Saw. I suspect this is partly due to the words 'Tarantino,' 'presented,' 'Quentin' and 'by' being involved in its promotion.
It's just mindless sex followed soon after by mindless violence. It's a reprehensible movie without a single a likeable character in it.
I suspect that this is exactly what the film was aiming to achieve, and there were a couple of moments where you actually revel in the violence, much as it pains me to admit it.
But overall, Hostel is simply dumb. There's nothing psychological about it.
It's just making a point that guys who see women as objects should be disemboweled and that humanity in general is disgusting enough to pay good money just for the opportunity to kill someone as a pastime.
It's disgusting, whereas Saw was simply brutal as a result of its storyline.
Once I've watched the second Saw trilogy I'll be sure to report back.
It's an 'art' form with virtually no legitimacy, and the critical panning of these films comes as no surprise to me (although I was bemused to find that Hostel got better ratings than the Saw films).
First, let's discuss the Saw films. I expected these to be just mindless bloody violence, and I didn't think I'd even make it through the first one.
I was wrong. Don't misunderstand me, these films have plenty of mindless violence thrown in, searching for that adrenaline rush of horror in the audience.
I was surprised at how psychological they were. Admittedly there are major elements of Seven thrown into them, so to a greater or lesser extent they're ripped off.
However, especially the first Saw has quite an interesting concept, with some fascinating twists; it even has some thriller elements thrown in along with the horror.
The second and third volumes are a bit more torture porn-y, but still not nearly as bad as was implied. By the end of the third film, Jigsaw has taken on a sort of anti-hero status, although thankfully the twist ending puts a stop to that before it goes too far.
All in all, these films are not nearly as bad as people implied they would be. I actually quite liked them. They also have a blackhearted sense of humour that I very much appreciated.
I also approved of how actors from the previous films in the series would return for flashbacks. It adds a sense of legitimacy to building up the series' universe around its characters. Compare that to say, the Nightmare On Elm Street series, in which virtually every new film meant a cast of new actors and characters (bar Robert Englund as Freddie Kreuger).
The first Saw is a genuinely interesting, original film just with some elements of Seven spun into it. The second two are not nearly as good, because the concept's being re-used, and they really aren't that good. But I still liked them quite a bit.
Hostel, on the other hand, I despised. I am staggered that Hostel got reasonable reviews compared to Saw. I suspect this is partly due to the words 'Tarantino,' 'presented,' 'Quentin' and 'by' being involved in its promotion.
It's just mindless sex followed soon after by mindless violence. It's a reprehensible movie without a single a likeable character in it.
I suspect that this is exactly what the film was aiming to achieve, and there were a couple of moments where you actually revel in the violence, much as it pains me to admit it.
But overall, Hostel is simply dumb. There's nothing psychological about it.
It's just making a point that guys who see women as objects should be disemboweled and that humanity in general is disgusting enough to pay good money just for the opportunity to kill someone as a pastime.
It's disgusting, whereas Saw was simply brutal as a result of its storyline.
Once I've watched the second Saw trilogy I'll be sure to report back.
15 February 2010
The Times
As part of a university assignment, I've been buying The Times every morning for the past week or so, and today I got a welcome surprise on the front page.
Dominic Kennedy, Investigations Editor for The Times was violently ejected from a BNP meeting, left bloodied, bruised and assaulted.
This is no conjecture or libel on my part, as not only have The Times already published these details but the mass media was on hand at the time to take plenty of photos of this taking place.
Obviously, what I'm pleased about isn't the fact that a journalist was unnecessarily roughed up by a group that's too right wing for me to even make jokes about without being personally disgusted.
What I'm pleased about is journalism finally taking a stand for something, and what's more, meaning something for once.
Obviously there will be plenty of examples people will be able to give me of journalism being meaningful and relevant in the last few years.
But all we've been told since hitting university to start a journalism degree is how the industry is going down the toilet and newspapers don't mean anything any more when the internet is so instantaneous.
But here, not only have The Times reported on something brilliantly, they themselves have BECOME the story.
It's a thrilling example of what Hunter S. Thompson called gonzo journalism - the journalist truly becoming the story.
What's more, it's great to see journalists representing enough of a threat to a political party that they saw fit to one out of their meeting with violent force.
The BNP have been gaining momentum recently and hopefully this story will expose them for what they truly are.
Watch this space.
Dominic Kennedy, Investigations Editor for The Times was violently ejected from a BNP meeting, left bloodied, bruised and assaulted.
This is no conjecture or libel on my part, as not only have The Times already published these details but the mass media was on hand at the time to take plenty of photos of this taking place.
Obviously, what I'm pleased about isn't the fact that a journalist was unnecessarily roughed up by a group that's too right wing for me to even make jokes about without being personally disgusted.
What I'm pleased about is journalism finally taking a stand for something, and what's more, meaning something for once.
Obviously there will be plenty of examples people will be able to give me of journalism being meaningful and relevant in the last few years.
But all we've been told since hitting university to start a journalism degree is how the industry is going down the toilet and newspapers don't mean anything any more when the internet is so instantaneous.
But here, not only have The Times reported on something brilliantly, they themselves have BECOME the story.
It's a thrilling example of what Hunter S. Thompson called gonzo journalism - the journalist truly becoming the story.
What's more, it's great to see journalists representing enough of a threat to a political party that they saw fit to one out of their meeting with violent force.
The BNP have been gaining momentum recently and hopefully this story will expose them for what they truly are.
Watch this space.
4 February 2010
Tupac Shakur
Gangsta rap is one of the most divisive genres of music out there. There's not a great deal of grey area in it; people tend to either love it or hate it.
I for one, love it. As previously stated this is mandatory seeing as I'm a suburban white boy but I genuinely think there is a great deal of artistic merit in rap.
Going back to NWA in the late 1980s, rap music had the ability to genuinely scare people and even, if it tried hard enough, effect some kind of social change.
Not that NWA effected social change really, they mostly just rapped about shooting the police. But the visceral thrill of the music remains to this day; most 1970s and 80s party rap has dated badly, but gangsta is truly timeless.
However, no rapper summed up everything good and bad about gangsta rap like Tupac Shakur.
Tupac was a writhing, tattooed contradiction of a man.
He was socially conscious and pro-woman, while indulging in thug life and misogyny.
He was repulsive, yet intelligent and quite brilliant.
He made some of rap's greatest ever music... and after he died people have been pumping out some of its worst with his name stapled to it.
Newcomers to rap often only remember Tupac for the East Coast/West Coast rivalry, but there was far more to him than that.
His first album 2Pacalypse now was a brutal, underground hip-hop record shot through with a political consciousness. Its biggest hit was the teenage-pregnancy lament 'Brenda's Got A Baby,' and that didn't even have a chorus.
He also, of course, made one of rap's singular greatest albums (and its first double) with 1996's All Eyez On Me. Considering he'd been in prison most of the previous year, releasing one of rap's greatest records (as well as another studio album the same year) is pretty impressive.
And Tupac was prolific. As well as creating possibly party-rap's greatest song, 'California Love', that same year, he apparently left some 200 unreleased songs at his death.
Some of those that have been released since have been truly revelatory - 'Changes' is a beautiful piece of work, and 'Ghetto Gospel' was actually pretty good too.
While I think that strictly speaking, The Notorious B.I.G. was the better and moer original rapper, Tupac was clearly the better person, more socially conscious and by far more varied.
I mean, All Eyez On Me, one of rap's high-water marks, was just an album he tossed off to make Death Row Records happy.
Tupac was truly a unique talent, and one of rap's best ever.
But was he THE best ever...?
Photos from flickr.com by jlmaral
I for one, love it. As previously stated this is mandatory seeing as I'm a suburban white boy but I genuinely think there is a great deal of artistic merit in rap.
Going back to NWA in the late 1980s, rap music had the ability to genuinely scare people and even, if it tried hard enough, effect some kind of social change.Not that NWA effected social change really, they mostly just rapped about shooting the police. But the visceral thrill of the music remains to this day; most 1970s and 80s party rap has dated badly, but gangsta is truly timeless.
However, no rapper summed up everything good and bad about gangsta rap like Tupac Shakur.
Tupac was a writhing, tattooed contradiction of a man.
He was socially conscious and pro-woman, while indulging in thug life and misogyny.
He was repulsive, yet intelligent and quite brilliant.
He made some of rap's greatest ever music... and after he died people have been pumping out some of its worst with his name stapled to it.
Newcomers to rap often only remember Tupac for the East Coast/West Coast rivalry, but there was far more to him than that.
His first album 2Pacalypse now was a brutal, underground hip-hop record shot through with a political consciousness. Its biggest hit was the teenage-pregnancy lament 'Brenda's Got A Baby,' and that didn't even have a chorus.
He also, of course, made one of rap's singular greatest albums (and its first double) with 1996's All Eyez On Me. Considering he'd been in prison most of the previous year, releasing one of rap's greatest records (as well as another studio album the same year) is pretty impressive.
And Tupac was prolific. As well as creating possibly party-rap's greatest song, 'California Love', that same year, he apparently left some 200 unreleased songs at his death.
Some of those that have been released since have been truly revelatory - 'Changes' is a beautiful piece of work, and 'Ghetto Gospel' was actually pretty good too.
While I think that strictly speaking, The Notorious B.I.G. was the better and moer original rapper, Tupac was clearly the better person, more socially conscious and by far more varied.
I mean, All Eyez On Me, one of rap's high-water marks, was just an album he tossed off to make Death Row Records happy.
Tupac was truly a unique talent, and one of rap's best ever.
But was he THE best ever...?
Photos from flickr.com by jlmaral
3 February 2010
How To Look Good Naked
Television is a morbid wasteland of shows that are either implying that you look awful (90210), telling you how to look better (adverts in general) or directly telling you that you look awful (The Swan).The latter show I refer to is a hideous programme whereby contestants undergo a horrifying amount of plastic surgery, wardrobe adjustment and hair extensions over a period of weeks in order to change the way they look completely.
The best part of all? If they look at a mirror at any point in the course of the show, they get disqualified.
How disgustingly shallow. It's a genuinely reprehensible idea and I'd like to think that it would never get made in Britain.
How you can show something like that on American TV but a penis is too much to ask anywhere outside of HBO is beyond me.
Which brings me to a television show I'm genuinely positive about and want to encourage people to watch.
Despite my pal Charlie Brooker's apparent hatred of him I genuinely like Gok Wan, and his show How To Look Good Naked is the antithesis of The Swan. For this it should be applauded.
Gok Wan doesn't tell you to lose one hundred pounds, cut your face off and and dye your hair. He tells you that you are lovely just the way you are and gives you the confidence to show it off.
Admittedly, he is a touch misguided at times. In at least one episode he has shown an individual a long lineup of variously sized individuals and asked her what size she thinks she is.
It's meant to indicate how misguided her opinion of herself is. Instead it just kind of insults the overweight individual she compares herself to.
He also managed to completely startle a poor blind woman last night by making a joke at her before introducing himself. He meant well but she clearly didn't reocgnise his voice and the fact that they left it in the show was fairly amusing.
But however stupid some of his decisions may be, Gok's heart is in the right place. Too many women are down on how they look, undeservedly so.
And if this show goes a little way to helping people feel better about themselves without needing to suck stuff out of their body before injecting it back into other areas, I'm all for it.
Photo from flickr.com courtesy of Ugg Boy (have fun doing it)
29 January 2010
Sex and/or the City
HBO is an American television network which deserves some credit.They are basically the last bastion of greatness in American TV.
They showed George Carlin and Bill Hicks specials before both of them went and died.
Virtually every good TV show in the US (including The Wire and The Sopranos) is shown on there.
And one such show is Sex and the City.
Long dismissed by many people as a chick show (focusing too much on the 'City' portion of the show, i.e. shoes and clothes), it's never quite got the credit it truly deserves.
The show is sharp, smart, funny and has some brilliantly written dialogue to boot.
The ups and downs of these four women, three interesting and the main one often incessantly annoying, are surprisingly fascinating.
But the show is worth watching, especially by men, because despite being mostly written and directed by Michael Patrick King, it provides vital insight to womenfolk.
It's also very edgy. It discusses things which most other shows - particularly in America - wouldn't dare discuss.
I'm not sure that on a uni-sanctioned blog I should go into more detail than that.
But their frank discussion of relationships from multiple angles - Miranda's relentless logic, Charlotte's fairy tale dreams, Samantha's libidinous attitude - is truly fascinating.
It also covers the post-relationship blues and on-again/off-again partnerships in a far more convincing way than virtually every other show.
Most of the characters are truly compelling; you can really see where they're coming from and even the less likeable ones - like Carrie. Yeah, I said it - have real motivations that you can understand and sympathise with.
It also features Harry Goldenblatt, for my mind the most likeable, ordinary bloke on television; a genuine role model in some ways.
The movie is a different story, mind. With all the hard edges sanded off and the girl factor upped by a mile, it ties up a lot of necessary plot points and is perfectly watchable. It's also at times genuinely romantic.
But it has nothing on the show, which is brassy, original and realistic. It's also more than wel worth a watch.
Pictures courtesy of Alan Light via www.flickr.com
28 January 2010
Wrestling's not gay.
Wrestling is not gay.
Okay, wrestling is extremely gay.
But not all the time.
I can't exactly deny that a pair of greased-up, musclebound roid-heads rolling around on the mad touching each other inappropriately isn't gay.
However, not every wrestler looks like Ted Dibiase Jnr.
Take, for example, my favourite wrestler - and one of my favourite authors - Mick Foley.
It's not particularly gay to fall off and then through a cage that's a legitimate sixteen feet tall.
TWICE.
Foley is not one of the gay-looking, wrestle-on-the-floor kind of wrestlers. He's an "I spend most of my time falling onto barbed wire" type wrestler.
And by the way, that's all real blood streaming down his face. Feel free to root around on youtube if you don't believe me, but unless Foley spends his whole time covered in blood packs, I think he's shed some real blood.
Oh, and he's MISSING AN EAR due to a match in Hamburg in 1994, against a guy called Vader. Vader is a wrestler who's known for being tough in the ring, and he demands no less from his opponents - to the extent that he once almost got his eye punched out in the ring.
Then he finished the match.
But enough about the tough stuff of wrestling. Wrestling's not all about barbed wire, blood and setting each other on fire.
It's also about being utterly, utterly daft.
It's like Eastenders in tights, it's the height of ridiculousness. And it's just stupid fun.
If you can't enjoy watching a 25-stone man throwing a bin at a midget funny, then there's something wrong with your very soul.
Wrestling's not gay (all the time), it's just stupid. It also features pretty staggering displays of athleticism at times and every once in a while, genuinely emotional moments.
As far as the 'it's all fake' arguments, I have two things to add.
Firstly, find a metal folding chair and get hit with it. And before you go on about a 'fake chair,' watch some original ECW. Is every damn chair in that arena fake? Because they all get used.
Secondly, everything is fake. TV is fake. Movies are fake. Actors don't do their own stunts (much). It's all fake emotion, fake entertainment.
There's nothing wrong with wrestling. It's not gay, it's just dumb.
And it's also incredibly entertaining.
Okay, wrestling is extremely gay.
But not all the time.
I can't exactly deny that a pair of greased-up, musclebound roid-heads rolling around on the mad touching each other inappropriately isn't gay.
However, not every wrestler looks like Ted Dibiase Jnr.
Take, for example, my favourite wrestler - and one of my favourite authors - Mick Foley.
It's not particularly gay to fall off and then through a cage that's a legitimate sixteen feet tall.
TWICE.
Foley is not one of the gay-looking, wrestle-on-the-floor kind of wrestlers. He's an "I spend most of my time falling onto barbed wire" type wrestler.
And by the way, that's all real blood streaming down his face. Feel free to root around on youtube if you don't believe me, but unless Foley spends his whole time covered in blood packs, I think he's shed some real blood.
Oh, and he's MISSING AN EAR due to a match in Hamburg in 1994, against a guy called Vader. Vader is a wrestler who's known for being tough in the ring, and he demands no less from his opponents - to the extent that he once almost got his eye punched out in the ring.
Then he finished the match.
But enough about the tough stuff of wrestling. Wrestling's not all about barbed wire, blood and setting each other on fire.
It's also about being utterly, utterly daft.
It's like Eastenders in tights, it's the height of ridiculousness. And it's just stupid fun.
If you can't enjoy watching a 25-stone man throwing a bin at a midget funny, then there's something wrong with your very soul.
Wrestling's not gay (all the time), it's just stupid. It also features pretty staggering displays of athleticism at times and every once in a while, genuinely emotional moments.
As far as the 'it's all fake' arguments, I have two things to add.
Firstly, find a metal folding chair and get hit with it. And before you go on about a 'fake chair,' watch some original ECW. Is every damn chair in that arena fake? Because they all get used.
Secondly, everything is fake. TV is fake. Movies are fake. Actors don't do their own stunts (much). It's all fake emotion, fake entertainment.
There's nothing wrong with wrestling. It's not gay, it's just dumb.
And it's also incredibly entertaining.
26 January 2010
Outstanding American visual media
I'm going to be positive about something today.
I feel like I've been negative for a while, so I'm going to talk about nice happy, shiny things.
Today's nice, happy, shiny thing is Little Miss Sunshine.
A 2007 film with an all-star cast including Steve Carell and Greg Kinnear, it follows a disfunctional family road-tripping across America to take their youngest girl to compete in a child's beauty pageant.
That plot summary reads like it would be horrifying, and between Carell and Kinnear there have been some truly awful films.
But Little Miss Sunshine is quite unlike the majority of the films I've seen in my life.
Every member of the family, from Carell's suicidal professor to Kinnear's relentless self-help guru has a fully-rounded character.
You can tell where they're coming from even if you don't agree with it (or rather, even if you don't agree with Kinnear, because it's him you'll hate).
The best character by far is the grandfather, played by Alan Arkin, who as well as delivering some truly grand-slam bits of dialogue ("I still have Nazi bullets in my ass!") is genuinely likable despite snorting heroin in his spare time.
It also never goes quite where you expect it to, despite how easy it would be for it to. I won't say any more lest I spoil the rest of the film.
But what truly makes this movie great is that it's understated.
Understated television and film is rare in America. This isn't necessarily a fault of the audience, as the executives have always been pandering to the lowest common denominators.
Little Miss Sunshine is funny without being slapstick or out and out farce, the comedy just bubbles under the surface. The characters don't leave gaps in the dialogue for you to laugh. And it doesn't talk down to you.
Another American production which should be praised for how understated is The Wire.
Charlie Brooker reckons it's the best TV show ever made and similar praise was lavished on it by The Chris Mayer Experience.
If that's not enough, here I am again telling you how great it is.
Although not a comedy, the characters in The Wire again all have motivations and reasoning that makes even the ones you hate a little bit likable.
Little Miss Sunshine, The Wire; America could do with more TV shows and films like this.
I feel like I've been negative for a while, so I'm going to talk about nice happy, shiny things.
Today's nice, happy, shiny thing is Little Miss Sunshine.
A 2007 film with an all-star cast including Steve Carell and Greg Kinnear, it follows a disfunctional family road-tripping across America to take their youngest girl to compete in a child's beauty pageant.
That plot summary reads like it would be horrifying, and between Carell and Kinnear there have been some truly awful films.
But Little Miss Sunshine is quite unlike the majority of the films I've seen in my life.
Every member of the family, from Carell's suicidal professor to Kinnear's relentless self-help guru has a fully-rounded character.
You can tell where they're coming from even if you don't agree with it (or rather, even if you don't agree with Kinnear, because it's him you'll hate).
The best character by far is the grandfather, played by Alan Arkin, who as well as delivering some truly grand-slam bits of dialogue ("I still have Nazi bullets in my ass!") is genuinely likable despite snorting heroin in his spare time.
It also never goes quite where you expect it to, despite how easy it would be for it to. I won't say any more lest I spoil the rest of the film.
But what truly makes this movie great is that it's understated.
Understated television and film is rare in America. This isn't necessarily a fault of the audience, as the executives have always been pandering to the lowest common denominators.
Little Miss Sunshine is funny without being slapstick or out and out farce, the comedy just bubbles under the surface. The characters don't leave gaps in the dialogue for you to laugh. And it doesn't talk down to you.
Another American production which should be praised for how understated is The Wire.
Charlie Brooker reckons it's the best TV show ever made and similar praise was lavished on it by The Chris Mayer Experience.
If that's not enough, here I am again telling you how great it is.
Although not a comedy, the characters in The Wire again all have motivations and reasoning that makes even the ones you hate a little bit likable.
Little Miss Sunshine, The Wire; America could do with more TV shows and films like this.
24 January 2010
Hooters
I'm Nottingham born and bred despite what little my accent may betray. Yet despite this I've never really been on a 'night out' in Nottingham.
On a weekend back to the homeland with the missus and bridesmaids to try our wedding meal, a friend of Cambridge Girl In Preston said he'd show us round a bit.
But we cared not for that. The first thing we wanted to do was go to Hooters.
And yes, by 'we,' I refer to myself, my wife-to-be, two other women and a guy three of us had only just met.
It's always a rowdy night at Hooters, right?
Wrong.
I'm not sure I've ever found a building or its contents as depressing as I did Hooters.
Apart from the fact that one drink cost me £3.55, the place was just awful on every level.
The girls looked like they had somehow been airbrushed in person. And some of them clearly considered this 'their living,' as at least one of them had giant fake breasts stapled onto their beampole frames.
Despite this, they were all utterly miserable. I don't think I've ever been less enthusiastic about seeing a scantily clad woman.
The whole place reeked of sleaze (although that shouldn't have been unexpected). But the problem with it was, it felt quite unlike a strip club.
Strip clubs are a niche market. They know what they're about and what you go there to do, so they carry themselves with a certain level of class.
Hooters is a poor man's strip club. People go there because they haven't got the guts to go to a real strip club, and they ogel women who have no class, but still have enough class not to actually get naked.
It's purgatory, basically.
And I for one don't care to repeat the experience.
On a weekend back to the homeland with the missus and bridesmaids to try our wedding meal, a friend of Cambridge Girl In Preston said he'd show us round a bit.
But we cared not for that. The first thing we wanted to do was go to Hooters.
And yes, by 'we,' I refer to myself, my wife-to-be, two other women and a guy three of us had only just met.
It's always a rowdy night at Hooters, right?
Wrong.
I'm not sure I've ever found a building or its contents as depressing as I did Hooters.
Apart from the fact that one drink cost me £3.55, the place was just awful on every level.
The girls looked like they had somehow been airbrushed in person. And some of them clearly considered this 'their living,' as at least one of them had giant fake breasts stapled onto their beampole frames.
Despite this, they were all utterly miserable. I don't think I've ever been less enthusiastic about seeing a scantily clad woman.
The whole place reeked of sleaze (although that shouldn't have been unexpected). But the problem with it was, it felt quite unlike a strip club.
Strip clubs are a niche market. They know what they're about and what you go there to do, so they carry themselves with a certain level of class.
Hooters is a poor man's strip club. People go there because they haven't got the guts to go to a real strip club, and they ogel women who have no class, but still have enough class not to actually get naked.
It's purgatory, basically.
And I for one don't care to repeat the experience.
21 January 2010
3D and other miscellaneous musings
So the new trend, seemingly started by the remake of My Blood Valentine, is 3D cinema.
My best friend Thom reckons that it's going to take over cinema.
And he might have a point; the only reason I doubt him is because it's threatened to do that at least twice before and not done so.
3D originated in the fifties if I remember rightly and has had a few revivals, but it's never become the standing definition of what cinema is in the same way.
Take colour film, for example. I'm sure plenty of people thought that was a fad at the time, but it soon became the norm.
I doubt this will happen with 3D because it's not necessarily a real improvement on the original form.
Saying that, some people my consider it an improvement. They may feel it is somehow a necessity to have it all leap off the screen into their faces instead of laying back and enjoying it.
And it's with thoughts like this when I feel like I am a man born out of my own time.
Unlike a lot of people with similar tastes in music to me, I don't think that good music is dead and was better in the sixties.
I think some things in music were better in bygone eras, but that's another story.
A lot of the new technology that appears these days seems to me to be not just frivolous, but pointless.
I guess this is a very old man 'we didn't need central heating when I was a wee pup' kind of rant.
I don't want to have my entire music collection with me everywhere I go. I quite like having a limited choice.
I don't really desire my movies to come leaping out of the screen at me. Seeing them on a hundred-foot-wide screen is spectacle enough, thanks.
I don't want to see the total death of physical media in my lifetime. I don't want to only own binary code stored in a magic box with a screen.
So yes, I am an old man before my time.
But then anyone reading this will already know that.
My best friend Thom reckons that it's going to take over cinema.
And he might have a point; the only reason I doubt him is because it's threatened to do that at least twice before and not done so.
3D originated in the fifties if I remember rightly and has had a few revivals, but it's never become the standing definition of what cinema is in the same way.
Take colour film, for example. I'm sure plenty of people thought that was a fad at the time, but it soon became the norm.
I doubt this will happen with 3D because it's not necessarily a real improvement on the original form.
Saying that, some people my consider it an improvement. They may feel it is somehow a necessity to have it all leap off the screen into their faces instead of laying back and enjoying it.
And it's with thoughts like this when I feel like I am a man born out of my own time.
Unlike a lot of people with similar tastes in music to me, I don't think that good music is dead and was better in the sixties.
I think some things in music were better in bygone eras, but that's another story.
A lot of the new technology that appears these days seems to me to be not just frivolous, but pointless.
I guess this is a very old man 'we didn't need central heating when I was a wee pup' kind of rant.
I don't want to have my entire music collection with me everywhere I go. I quite like having a limited choice.
I don't really desire my movies to come leaping out of the screen at me. Seeing them on a hundred-foot-wide screen is spectacle enough, thanks.
I don't want to see the total death of physical media in my lifetime. I don't want to only own binary code stored in a magic box with a screen.
So yes, I am an old man before my time.
But then anyone reading this will already know that.
19 January 2010
Twitter terrorism
We've reached a new low, folks.
Yes, someone has been arrested under suspicion of terrorism based on their Twitter account.
Oh dear.
It seems one cannot make a joke without being arrested these days.
The joke may have been in poor taste, but it was also clearly a joke. What good would it do someone to blow up the airport from which they intend to depart?
This alleged democracy we live in supposedly allows freedom of speech, and as the internet is yet to be regulated that should extend as far as Twitter.
To be fair, terrorism is a serious issue (sort of) and so we should try and clamp down on it. But the precedent that this sets is an extremely dangerous one.
In 1989, Bill Hicks, my personal idol, released a video of a stand-up show called Sane Man.
Its opening featured a comedy bit in which he encouraged hi-jacking of planes that he saw on the news and even fantasised about doing it himself (albeit to get the plane to its original destination on time).
Does this make Hicks a suspected terrorist? I mean he's been dead since '94 so digging him up and putting him on trial wouldn't help, but I'm trying to make a point here.
And as far as the comment being on Twitter, this is where we really get into dangerous territory.
The internet has been a safehaven for keyboard bullying for the best part of a decade now.
It allows someone in Alaska to talk to someone in Kamchatca with only a split-second delay between their replies.
Twitter is the hot website to be on at the moment, which will be why this guy got noticed. But I think if the police started trawling the back catalogues of many online forums they'd be horrified by what they found.
Threats of rape, murder, and yes, terrorism, all meant in jest and all arrest-worthy by the standard set in this case.
And this is quite apart from the fact that the internet is a global phenomenon and can't really be policed by any singular set of laws.
So where do we go from here?
Someone innocent has already died in Britain as a result of anti-terror legislation. The only question is how much worse things can get from there.
Yes, someone has been arrested under suspicion of terrorism based on their Twitter account.
Oh dear.
It seems one cannot make a joke without being arrested these days.
The joke may have been in poor taste, but it was also clearly a joke. What good would it do someone to blow up the airport from which they intend to depart?
This alleged democracy we live in supposedly allows freedom of speech, and as the internet is yet to be regulated that should extend as far as Twitter.
To be fair, terrorism is a serious issue (sort of) and so we should try and clamp down on it. But the precedent that this sets is an extremely dangerous one.
In 1989, Bill Hicks, my personal idol, released a video of a stand-up show called Sane Man.
Its opening featured a comedy bit in which he encouraged hi-jacking of planes that he saw on the news and even fantasised about doing it himself (albeit to get the plane to its original destination on time).
Does this make Hicks a suspected terrorist? I mean he's been dead since '94 so digging him up and putting him on trial wouldn't help, but I'm trying to make a point here.
And as far as the comment being on Twitter, this is where we really get into dangerous territory.
The internet has been a safehaven for keyboard bullying for the best part of a decade now.
It allows someone in Alaska to talk to someone in Kamchatca with only a split-second delay between their replies.
Twitter is the hot website to be on at the moment, which will be why this guy got noticed. But I think if the police started trawling the back catalogues of many online forums they'd be horrified by what they found.
Threats of rape, murder, and yes, terrorism, all meant in jest and all arrest-worthy by the standard set in this case.
And this is quite apart from the fact that the internet is a global phenomenon and can't really be policed by any singular set of laws.
So where do we go from here?
Someone innocent has already died in Britain as a result of anti-terror legislation. The only question is how much worse things can get from there.
2 January 2010
A short musing upon animé
Japanese culture has had a giant impact on Western culture lately.
I'm not sure why this is. Maybe the arrival of Pokémon and its accompanying television series kicked the door in for animé in general.
Either way, you can't walk down the streets nowadays without seeing someone dressed like they think they're a Japanese animé character.
It wasn't such a problem a few years ago when this was more of a niche thing, and when it was only gamers going to conventions who dressed like Final Fantasy characters.
But these days everyone's into it. And again, this isn't really a problem either.
Trends, be they idiotic or not, come and go and it's not the fault of the few originals that the trends happen.
Just ask Ian Mackaye, who basically invented straight-edge and emo by accident and has spent the ensuing twenty-odd years distancing himself from it.
The thing I dislike about it is how everybody seems to be so completely okay with what goes on in the TV shows and films that most of these people love.
These shows are unrelentingly bizarre and yet nobody seems to notice this.
Down to the very basic elements of Japanese animation, there are things that make no sense to us, like the way they constantly beat each other over the head with fans. I for one don't think a fan would hurt that much, but what do I know.
There's the fact that every single boy looks like a girl. Or at least, they certainly don't look like boys.
And the unsettling fact that every girl is ridiculously proportioned, disturbingly young yet also pubescent, and wearing preposterously revealing clothing.
But it's not even all of that that I'm talking about, it's the weirdness that goes one step further than that.
It's the Cat Bus in (I think) My Neighbour Totero.
It's the weird tree creature projectile vomiting in a film that I think was Spirited Away, but I forget.
I saw on (I think) Cowboy Bebop, blood dripping downwards slowly out of a giant hanging eyeball.
Pokémon, which consists of tiny monsters living in balls that you keep in your pocket, is practically USUAL next to that!
And I could handle all this weirdness were it not for the fact that all of these things just whistle by and animé fans don't react. They don't say 'that was totally weird, but it was awesome nonetheless.' They just accept it.
So stop it. Grr.
I'm not sure why this is. Maybe the arrival of Pokémon and its accompanying television series kicked the door in for animé in general.
Either way, you can't walk down the streets nowadays without seeing someone dressed like they think they're a Japanese animé character.
It wasn't such a problem a few years ago when this was more of a niche thing, and when it was only gamers going to conventions who dressed like Final Fantasy characters.
But these days everyone's into it. And again, this isn't really a problem either.
Trends, be they idiotic or not, come and go and it's not the fault of the few originals that the trends happen.
Just ask Ian Mackaye, who basically invented straight-edge and emo by accident and has spent the ensuing twenty-odd years distancing himself from it.
The thing I dislike about it is how everybody seems to be so completely okay with what goes on in the TV shows and films that most of these people love.
These shows are unrelentingly bizarre and yet nobody seems to notice this.
Down to the very basic elements of Japanese animation, there are things that make no sense to us, like the way they constantly beat each other over the head with fans. I for one don't think a fan would hurt that much, but what do I know.
There's the fact that every single boy looks like a girl. Or at least, they certainly don't look like boys.
And the unsettling fact that every girl is ridiculously proportioned, disturbingly young yet also pubescent, and wearing preposterously revealing clothing.
But it's not even all of that that I'm talking about, it's the weirdness that goes one step further than that.
It's the Cat Bus in (I think) My Neighbour Totero.
It's the weird tree creature projectile vomiting in a film that I think was Spirited Away, but I forget.
I saw on (I think) Cowboy Bebop, blood dripping downwards slowly out of a giant hanging eyeball.
Pokémon, which consists of tiny monsters living in balls that you keep in your pocket, is practically USUAL next to that!
And I could handle all this weirdness were it not for the fact that all of these things just whistle by and animé fans don't react. They don't say 'that was totally weird, but it was awesome nonetheless.' They just accept it.
So stop it. Grr.
30 December 2009
Why I hate Scrubs
Scrubs is a half-decent little TV show with an often surreal sense of humour, and I used to like it a lot.
At least, I used to like the first three or four seasons a lot, before it started to go abruptly downhill.
But now, a few episodes (mostly early ones) aside, I can't stand it. Why is that, you ask? Two characters.
Elliot Reed and John Dorian.
Let's start with Elliot. She is a giant slag.
No, really. She seems to have some kind of phony morality in the TV show, but she is a slag.
In the very first episode of the show, she sexually manipulates JD in order to get ahead, something she repeats in the fourth season to her own detriment. The show seems to think we should be rooting for her in this situation, but it's her own stupid fault.
In the third season, meanwhile, while in a long-distance relationship with Sean (who gets utterly screwed over by her once before as well, by the way, and doesn't deserve it either time) she sleeps with JD, before immediately hooking up with Sean again.
She then has the nerve to take the moral high ground on JD when he feels that, you know, having sex with him might have been a sign that she likes him or something like that.
Which brings us to JD. JD is an IDIOT. An unlikable, annoying, immature idiot who says stupid things, does horrible things to people and is generally a jerk.
It'd take me far too long to list them all here, but I may as well give a few examples.
He constantly says incredibly insulting things to people, usually his closest friends ("You're supposed to struggle, not me" to Elliot in series four).
He nails a widow AT HER HUSBAND'S FUNERAL. I don't care how long he was in a coma or how good an emotional state she claims to be in... HER HUSBAND JUST DIED. You could at least wait until you got home for goodness sake, because I'd say she may not be in the sanest state of mind.
He is so weak emotionally that he can't even break up with someone and so needy that he'll just cling onto anybody who throws him even a second glance.
With these two the focal point of the show - along with Turk, who to be fair I adore - I just can't stand to watch it any more. JD constantly makes the wrong decisions when it's so easy to see what he should do (and unlike in say, Peep Show, it's not entertaining) and Elliot is just a slag still.
So, forget you Scrubs.
At least, I used to like the first three or four seasons a lot, before it started to go abruptly downhill.
But now, a few episodes (mostly early ones) aside, I can't stand it. Why is that, you ask? Two characters.
Elliot Reed and John Dorian.
Let's start with Elliot. She is a giant slag.
No, really. She seems to have some kind of phony morality in the TV show, but she is a slag.
In the very first episode of the show, she sexually manipulates JD in order to get ahead, something she repeats in the fourth season to her own detriment. The show seems to think we should be rooting for her in this situation, but it's her own stupid fault.
In the third season, meanwhile, while in a long-distance relationship with Sean (who gets utterly screwed over by her once before as well, by the way, and doesn't deserve it either time) she sleeps with JD, before immediately hooking up with Sean again.
She then has the nerve to take the moral high ground on JD when he feels that, you know, having sex with him might have been a sign that she likes him or something like that.
Which brings us to JD. JD is an IDIOT. An unlikable, annoying, immature idiot who says stupid things, does horrible things to people and is generally a jerk.
It'd take me far too long to list them all here, but I may as well give a few examples.
He constantly says incredibly insulting things to people, usually his closest friends ("You're supposed to struggle, not me" to Elliot in series four).
He nails a widow AT HER HUSBAND'S FUNERAL. I don't care how long he was in a coma or how good an emotional state she claims to be in... HER HUSBAND JUST DIED. You could at least wait until you got home for goodness sake, because I'd say she may not be in the sanest state of mind.
He is so weak emotionally that he can't even break up with someone and so needy that he'll just cling onto anybody who throws him even a second glance.
With these two the focal point of the show - along with Turk, who to be fair I adore - I just can't stand to watch it any more. JD constantly makes the wrong decisions when it's so easy to see what he should do (and unlike in say, Peep Show, it's not entertaining) and Elliot is just a slag still.
So, forget you Scrubs.
29 December 2009
Christmas songs
Christmas is my favourite time of year. For all the talk of higher rates of suicide and such, there is just a magical feel to Christmas for me no matter how commercialised it may get.
I'm sad it's now over - and also that I didn't get around to making this post before it took place.
One of the things that many people loathe more than anything else is the Christmas music.
In principle, I should loathe it too.
My ambition is to be a music journalist and I style myself as a connoisseur. And Christmas music is some of the worst of the worst, right?
Wrong.
There's a whole bunch of artists who I will only listen to at Christmas, and no matter how bad the songs may be, I love Christmas so much that I will listen to virtually any Christmas song when this time of year rolls around.
So in no particular order, here are some of what I think are some truly classic Christmas songs.
This is probably my favourite Christmas song. I never listen to Jethro Tull except for this song at Christmas. I adore it. It doesn't actually mention Christmas itself, to be fair, but it does mention the Winter Solstice and that's good enough for me. I actually get a lump in my throat every time I hear that opening flute.
Shakin' Stevens, another terrible, awful musician but with a Christmas song that I really can't argue with. Has a faintly bizarre video but the sentiment of the song is about as Christmassy as you can get.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gUxxXIwGvK0
This one won't embed by request, but it's Proper Chrimbo by Avid Merrion. This song isn't just Christmassy by itself, but is also a very funny video for any number of reasons. My personal favourite is Bob Geldof shamelessly abusing Merrion and the both of them dropping their wine glasses on the floor.
Reuben are a band I miss a great deal, who made three great albums before splitting. Their third was a bit miserable and the videos a bit serious for my liking (mostly) so I was happy with this return to their style of madcap humour. The lyrics in this song sum up a Christmas, especially in Britain, so brilliantly. The best lyric is probably either 'look out for Mistletoe or I will kiss your face' or 'sorry about all of that "nailed to a cross" business.'
A lesser known one, this, I've never heard it played on TV or the radio. It starts off with the typical blink-182 toilet humour but then the closing refrain is fairly euphoric and emotional.
This version of 'Little Drummer Boy' is taken from an utterly bizarre Christmas special starring David Bowie and Bing Crosby which was aired after the latter's death. The pairing makes no sense, the song is odd and the whole thing is just baffling. Good tune, though.
I'm sad it's now over - and also that I didn't get around to making this post before it took place.
One of the things that many people loathe more than anything else is the Christmas music.
In principle, I should loathe it too.
My ambition is to be a music journalist and I style myself as a connoisseur. And Christmas music is some of the worst of the worst, right?
Wrong.
There's a whole bunch of artists who I will only listen to at Christmas, and no matter how bad the songs may be, I love Christmas so much that I will listen to virtually any Christmas song when this time of year rolls around.
So in no particular order, here are some of what I think are some truly classic Christmas songs.
This is probably my favourite Christmas song. I never listen to Jethro Tull except for this song at Christmas. I adore it. It doesn't actually mention Christmas itself, to be fair, but it does mention the Winter Solstice and that's good enough for me. I actually get a lump in my throat every time I hear that opening flute.
Shakin' Stevens, another terrible, awful musician but with a Christmas song that I really can't argue with. Has a faintly bizarre video but the sentiment of the song is about as Christmassy as you can get.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gUxxXIwGvK0
This one won't embed by request, but it's Proper Chrimbo by Avid Merrion. This song isn't just Christmassy by itself, but is also a very funny video for any number of reasons. My personal favourite is Bob Geldof shamelessly abusing Merrion and the both of them dropping their wine glasses on the floor.
Reuben are a band I miss a great deal, who made three great albums before splitting. Their third was a bit miserable and the videos a bit serious for my liking (mostly) so I was happy with this return to their style of madcap humour. The lyrics in this song sum up a Christmas, especially in Britain, so brilliantly. The best lyric is probably either 'look out for Mistletoe or I will kiss your face' or 'sorry about all of that "nailed to a cross" business.'
A lesser known one, this, I've never heard it played on TV or the radio. It starts off with the typical blink-182 toilet humour but then the closing refrain is fairly euphoric and emotional.
This version of 'Little Drummer Boy' is taken from an utterly bizarre Christmas special starring David Bowie and Bing Crosby which was aired after the latter's death. The pairing makes no sense, the song is odd and the whole thing is just baffling. Good tune, though.
2 December 2009
Compilations, continued
Yes, artist compilations, be they b-sides, best ofs or greatest hits can often go awry.
Of course, sometimes a hits compilation is just what a group needs. Other times, even if the group doesn't need one, they can still turn out to be fantastic compilations.
One example of a compilation done right is The Who's Then And Now, which originally came out in 2004 but was updated in 2007 to include a song from their then-new album Endless Wire.
Like so many of the bands of the sixties and seventies, The Who had a bunch of non-album singles which were vital to understanding their progression yet never made it onto an album. Singles like 'I Can't Explain' or 'Magic Bus.'
As such, best-ofs are very useful for groups of that era. Then And Now was something like their seventh compilation, but the dangling carrot on it was the two new songs (one new song in the 2007 version) tacked on the end.
This is one time when the extra material was not simply a way of getting completists to buy it. There hadn't been a new Who song recorded since 1982 and the death of John Entwistle in 2002, so a new recording was big news.
What's more, these new recordings are pretty great. 'Old Red Wine' is a decent enough tune, but not one to write home about. 'Real Good Looking Boy,' however, is an epic, immaculately written and played song that well deserves its place in the Who's catalogue.
It also shows how wonderfully Roger Daltrey's voice has aged; he can't hit those high notes any more but his burly growl is a delight to hear again.
What's more, the rest of the album has all the hits, from the early mod stuff (which I hate) through their shaky middle period (like the one song I like from The Who Sell Out, 'I Can See For Miles') and up to their soaring AOR period on the three cuts from Who's Next, which is undoubtedly one of the finest albums ever made.
Another artist with a quality greatest hits is Robbie Williams. Although his musical background suggests someone who is undoubtedly a singles-only artist, he actually had some quality albums; nevertheless, his hits collection would be his defining statement, and it is that.
The selection of it is incredibly smart. It cuts a few of his lower charting singles, doesn't include his awful cover of George Michael's 'Freedom,' and nothing from his swing album.
It also includes two new songs; a lovely ballad called 'Misunderstood' and an honest-to-goodness electro track on 'Radio.'
Many people hate 'Radio' with a passion; I love it for how ridiculous and bad it is. I can't believe he had the guts to release it as a single. Can't fault the man for it...
Basically, compilations are impossible to quantify. Does the artist need it, or not? Will it be worth buying? Is new material a cash-in, or value for money?
Who knows?
I sure don't.
Of course, sometimes a hits compilation is just what a group needs. Other times, even if the group doesn't need one, they can still turn out to be fantastic compilations.
One example of a compilation done right is The Who's Then And Now, which originally came out in 2004 but was updated in 2007 to include a song from their then-new album Endless Wire.
Like so many of the bands of the sixties and seventies, The Who had a bunch of non-album singles which were vital to understanding their progression yet never made it onto an album. Singles like 'I Can't Explain' or 'Magic Bus.'
As such, best-ofs are very useful for groups of that era. Then And Now was something like their seventh compilation, but the dangling carrot on it was the two new songs (one new song in the 2007 version) tacked on the end.
This is one time when the extra material was not simply a way of getting completists to buy it. There hadn't been a new Who song recorded since 1982 and the death of John Entwistle in 2002, so a new recording was big news.
What's more, these new recordings are pretty great. 'Old Red Wine' is a decent enough tune, but not one to write home about. 'Real Good Looking Boy,' however, is an epic, immaculately written and played song that well deserves its place in the Who's catalogue.
It also shows how wonderfully Roger Daltrey's voice has aged; he can't hit those high notes any more but his burly growl is a delight to hear again.
What's more, the rest of the album has all the hits, from the early mod stuff (which I hate) through their shaky middle period (like the one song I like from The Who Sell Out, 'I Can See For Miles') and up to their soaring AOR period on the three cuts from Who's Next, which is undoubtedly one of the finest albums ever made.
Another artist with a quality greatest hits is Robbie Williams. Although his musical background suggests someone who is undoubtedly a singles-only artist, he actually had some quality albums; nevertheless, his hits collection would be his defining statement, and it is that.
The selection of it is incredibly smart. It cuts a few of his lower charting singles, doesn't include his awful cover of George Michael's 'Freedom,' and nothing from his swing album.
It also includes two new songs; a lovely ballad called 'Misunderstood' and an honest-to-goodness electro track on 'Radio.'
Many people hate 'Radio' with a passion; I love it for how ridiculous and bad it is. I can't believe he had the guts to release it as a single. Can't fault the man for it...
Basically, compilations are impossible to quantify. Does the artist need it, or not? Will it be worth buying? Is new material a cash-in, or value for money?
Who knows?
I sure don't.
29 November 2009
Left 4 Deads volumes 1 and 2.
I'm going to take a break from our usual programming (i.e. the continuation of my previous post) to talk about something else.Left 4 Dead.
Oh, and Left 4 Dead 2.
Something which a lot of television pundits will never truly understand unless they do it themselves is the joy of playing a computer game with a bunch of your mates.
It doesn't have to be challenging, it can just be fun. And possibly the most fun I've ever had playing a computer game is playing Left 4 Dead and Left 4 Dead 2.
For the uninitiated, here's some explanation of the games.
The only horror movie to ever genuinely frighten me - and I don't mean stupid jump scares that a fluffy kitten could do if timed correctly - was 28 Days Later, and as such it is one of my favourite films.
Based around a rabies-like pandemic that makes people act like monstrous animals, attacking and pummeling each other to death (of course, a bite makes you become one of them), it's probably the greatest zombie movie that George A. Romero didn't make.
Left 4 Dead is basically like playing that film, and it's magnificent.
As described by Zero Punctuation, there's not much storyline; basically that pandemic has infected a lot of people and the last four - the '4' in the title - have to fight their way through thousands of infected in order to escape.
That's it. No fannying around, no nonsense. Just shoot zombies, lots of zombies, until the zombies run out and/or you get away.
And it is a quite preposterous amount of fun.
It's not all ordinary zombies of course. There's the smoker, who grabs you and pulls you close; there's the boomer, who attracts other zombies to you and blinds you; there's the hunter, you pounces on you and rips you to shreds; the tank, who is tough as hell; and the witch, who just sits crying to herself unless you startle her and then all hell breaks loose.Played with three mates in a darkened room, Left 4 Dead is an often terrifying and overall brilliant game and I honestly couldn't have thought of a way to improve it.
But they only went and bloomin' well did it with Left 4 Dead 2.
Released only something stupid like six months after the original, it's taken everything great about Left 4 Dead and poured chocolate on it.
Possibly the greatest addition is that of melee weapons. With ridiculous comic props like guitars and saucepans to hand, you'd be stupid to not choose the chainsaw, which you just set running and then watch the zombies run into it and fall to bits. It's glorious.
There are also new special zombies; the spitter which has corrosive bile; the charger, which is like a budget version of the Tank; and the jockey, which takes control of you and makes you run around like a loon.
The graphics are better, the weapons are better, the environments are more varied and interesting, and the level on which you wander around a corn farm swarming with witches in a torrential downpour is possibly the scariest thing I've ever seen in a game.
They may not be original, or clever; but the Left 4 Dead games are just outright fun the way a game is supposed to be.
Buy them.
BUY THEM NOW.
26 November 2009
25 November 2009
The pitfalls of artist compilations
Artist compilations are one of the notorious pitfalls of the music business.
There's a never-ending list of questions that come up before the album is listened to or even released. What's the motivation, commercial or artistic?
Should an artist release a greatest hits or best of when they're still together?
And most of all - what should you include, and what shouldn't you?
To try and figure this out, let's take a look at some of the good and bad best ofs, and some of the ones in between.
Let's start off with a band I've touched upon in a previous blog - Nirvana, fronted by everyone's favourite shotgun enthusiast.
Nirvana are a band who'd suit a compilation. So many of their essential songs are b-sides, offcuts or one-off singles on Sub Pop, but 2002's Nirvana compilation was pretty pathetic.
At less than an hour long, the compilation doesn't even make the best use of its space - but the little space it does use is filled with inessential songs.
It also has unreleased song 'You Know You're Right,' which makes it essential for hardcore fans (sigh). It's a very good song but not really worth the asking price alone.
A much better Nirvana compilation could be stitched together by anyone with a passing knowledge of their catalogue - namely me. And even I wouldn't be stupid enought to omit 'Aneurysm' but still put 'Rape Me' on it.
Who else has managed to epically fail at the compilation?
What's that, another band I've already mentioned?
Yes, the Panic Fleet Teachers.
I really must stop making jokes that only I will find remotely funny.
Yes, Manic Street Preachers, after running out of creative juices in 2001 decided to put out a compilation in 2002 called Forever Delayed. (The creative juices must have reeeeally run dry considering the debacle of an album that followed).
Now on song-strength alone, Forever Delayed is predominantly brilliant. What's more, it mops up a couple of single-only releases, 'Motown Junk' and 'The Masses Against The Classes' which were well worth including on an album somewhere.
But it's also an example of what can go terribly wrong with such releases.
It has two new songs tacked onto it. I've noticed a pattern when it comes to having two new songs on your compilation; if you have one song, it might be alright.
If you have two, then one will be great, the other will suck. REM's 2003 compilation In Time had that problem ('Bad Day' was great, 'Animal' was not) and so does this one.
'There By The Grace Of God' is an elegaic, wistful number with a beautiful guitar figure. 'Door To The River' is so forgettable that I might just forget that I'm writing this sen-...
The rest of the album is apparently the bizarre result of committee thinking. Four cuts are taken from 1996's magnificent masterpice Everything Must Go. But only one song is taken from the brilliant, if disturbing, Holy Bible.
How does that work?
There is no fathomable reason for the tracklisting. It doesn't play like a live gig. It's not chronological, and it doesn't have only the big hits (just look at where they charted in the liner notes). And it doesn't seem to consist of band favourites or fan favourites, otherwise as already stated there'd be more Holy Bible.
We end up with room for 'Tsunami,' but no room for 'Ifwhiteamericatoldthetruthforonedayitsworldwouldfallapart?'
Join us next week (or whenever else I bother to write another blog) to find out some of the better artist compilations that've been released.
There's a never-ending list of questions that come up before the album is listened to or even released. What's the motivation, commercial or artistic?
Should an artist release a greatest hits or best of when they're still together?
And most of all - what should you include, and what shouldn't you?
To try and figure this out, let's take a look at some of the good and bad best ofs, and some of the ones in between.
Let's start off with a band I've touched upon in a previous blog - Nirvana, fronted by everyone's favourite shotgun enthusiast.Nirvana are a band who'd suit a compilation. So many of their essential songs are b-sides, offcuts or one-off singles on Sub Pop, but 2002's Nirvana compilation was pretty pathetic.
At less than an hour long, the compilation doesn't even make the best use of its space - but the little space it does use is filled with inessential songs.
It also has unreleased song 'You Know You're Right,' which makes it essential for hardcore fans (sigh). It's a very good song but not really worth the asking price alone.
A much better Nirvana compilation could be stitched together by anyone with a passing knowledge of their catalogue - namely me. And even I wouldn't be stupid enought to omit 'Aneurysm' but still put 'Rape Me' on it.
Who else has managed to epically fail at the compilation?
What's that, another band I've already mentioned?
Yes, the Panic Fleet Teachers.
I really must stop making jokes that only I will find remotely funny.
Yes, Manic Street Preachers, after running out of creative juices in 2001 decided to put out a compilation in 2002 called Forever Delayed. (The creative juices must have reeeeally run dry considering the debacle of an album that followed).
Now on song-strength alone, Forever Delayed is predominantly brilliant. What's more, it mops up a couple of single-only releases, 'Motown Junk' and 'The Masses Against The Classes' which were well worth including on an album somewhere.
But it's also an example of what can go terribly wrong with such releases.
It has two new songs tacked onto it. I've noticed a pattern when it comes to having two new songs on your compilation; if you have one song, it might be alright.
If you have two, then one will be great, the other will suck. REM's 2003 compilation In Time had that problem ('Bad Day' was great, 'Animal' was not) and so does this one.
'There By The Grace Of God' is an elegaic, wistful number with a beautiful guitar figure. 'Door To The River' is so forgettable that I might just forget that I'm writing this sen-...
The rest of the album is apparently the bizarre result of committee thinking. Four cuts are taken from 1996's magnificent masterpice Everything Must Go. But only one song is taken from the brilliant, if disturbing, Holy Bible.
How does that work?
There is no fathomable reason for the tracklisting. It doesn't play like a live gig. It's not chronological, and it doesn't have only the big hits (just look at where they charted in the liner notes). And it doesn't seem to consist of band favourites or fan favourites, otherwise as already stated there'd be more Holy Bible.
We end up with room for 'Tsunami,' but no room for 'Ifwhiteamericatoldthetruthforonedayitsworldwouldfallapart?'
Join us next week (or whenever else I bother to write another blog) to find out some of the better artist compilations that've been released.
24 November 2009
Vox pop horror horror, vox pop horror
As a journalism student, one of the things I dread the most is the vox pop.Vox pop, or vox populi, translates from Latin as the 'voice of the people.'
I am not known for my passion for the opinions of John Everyman and I take great amusement from the comedy blog spEak You're bRanes, a delightful satirical commentary on the comments left on online news.
What's more, the title is (I presume) a reference to the even funnier (and even more satirical) Speak Your Brains segment from The Day Today.
Ordinarily I would link directly to a video above, but seeing as I know Chris Mayer will love to see it again I'm going to embed an example instead so you can't help but see it.
So as someone who generally couldn't care less about public opinion - after all, S Club got to number one, didn't they? - I'm not exactly suited to requesting it.
But that's the least of one's troubles when vox-popping.
First of all you have a lot of legal issues. You can't usually do it indoors, for example, because even places like shopping centres are usually private property and you tend to get moved along.
Secondly, being outside is hell for audio quality. You get wind, you get cars going past to overlap people, it's a nightmare.
Thirdly, if people don't want to talk to you, they can be anything from friendly to perfunctory to flat-out rude.
But the worst part of it for me - other than, as a friend of mine helpfully pointed out, having to do it - is that I feel their pain.
If I see someone on the street with that hopeful look on their face like they're going to try and talk to me, the majority of the time I ignore them. I try to be as polite as I can about it, but the majority of the time I just don't care or it's some annoying sales pitch. Usually I just keep walking.
That's right. If I was trying to vox-pop myself, I wouldn't talk to me, so how can I expect others to?
Nevertheless, vox-pops are the bane of a young journalist, so I can expect to be doing a lot more of them.
Oh well. At least no-one's punched me in the face yet.
Photo from flickr courtesy of Will-Joel-Taylor
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