Posts from October 2006
“It’s easy to win when there are folk in the government holding back your rivals.”
So says Silvio Berlusconi to Inter Milan fans, appparently. But how would a man who had simultaneously been Prime Minister of Italy and owner of the Italian Champions know about a thing like that?
There is a species of murder mystery, like say Columbo, where the fun is not in working out whodunnit. My run in with the London-wide mystery film phenom was a bit liek this in two ways. I had decided to go see the one at the Muswell Hill Odeon. Choice was based on proximity of friend (who in the end couldn’t come) and consideration of the kind of film which might be shown. I guessed that an Odeon was likely to have a “bigger” film, and I kind of fancied a preview rather than something out of the blue which might have rocked up at the Renoir or Arcola (more to follow). And hey, its Muswell Hill, it’ll probably be something middle-class.
In a shocking attempt to pander to every cover star’s ego, the Q awards seems to be in even more danger than the Intertoto “Cup” of turning into the modern equivalent of school sports day where EVERYBODY gets a prize, lets look at that list of “special” awards in full:
Appearing briefly on the front page while I finish the next entry!
Every Popular entry gets a mark out of 10: here’s your opportunity to say which of the No.1s of 1970 you’d give more than 6 to. Highest marks from me this year went to Freda Payne and Smokey Robinson (both 8s); lowest was a 2 for Dana.
Singles are listed in reverse chronological order for once.
“I Hear You Knocking” is a 50s R&B cover, and more than just a cover – the enthused “Smiley Lewis! Chuck Berry! Huey Smith!” yells mark it as a celebration, and the tightly-packed, trebly arrangement seems designed to capture the feel of listening to rock n roll on a crackly transistor. The result, though, is a strangely pinched-sounding record – almost everything in it sounds sharpened, clipped and thin. The exception, and the main reason to listen, is the ever-gorgeous slide guitar, which pushes particularly well against a strutting rhythm. In fact I’d love an instrumental of this, but I can’t get along with Dave Edmunds’ nasal, echo-sodden voice – with every cawed “I hear you KNAWW-kin” I like the record less. .
In the great balloon debate of the arts, there will come a time (possibly after Mime has been chucked out) when those left will debate the idea that as art reflects life to some degree, it is vital for us to understand the human condition and put certain things into perspective. Andrea Arnold’s Red Road would certainly claim it I guess, taking on the great themes of revenge, justice and the somewhat less great theme of dirty sex and CCTV in its stride. But the message the film gives out is surprisingly redemptive.
The Devil Wears Prada is a pretty toothless satire of the fashion industry. So toothless that it is almost an apologia for it, instead heaping most of its scorn on its cruel fictional villain***. What is much more interesting in this tug between principles and glamour is what the film has to say about friends. Andi, played by Anne Hathaway, is part of a clique of four (as ever): her boyfriend the sous chef, a investment chap who knows a lot about fashion, and her art gallery curating mate. But rarely in the film are this gang supportive – with perhaps the exception of the investment chap who the film wants to suggest could be secretly gay but can’t be arsed (the film or the character).
“As in JR Ewing? Sorry, you must be sick of hearing that.” Not especially, to be honest – the sudden fame of my surname in the early 80s pleased me more than it hurt me. For one thing, there wasn’t an awful lot of playground material in Dallas. For another, the naming coincidence meant that the show was the one and only soap my family actually watched together.
despite their HOPELESSLY PITIFUL WEBSITE, hackney lido is now finally finished and open and LOVELY — it looks nuffin like THAT either whereon hangs a tale no doubt
all it needs now is a caff as good as shrewsbury baths in 1970
SOME THINGS WE HAVE LEARNT:
i. Notts Forest is in SHROPSHIRE! (proof = they visited clun and knighton)
ii. The Awesome Power of RobEmoWatch! (proof = first words spoken to Maid Pieface = “Nice Pie! Give us a KISS!”)
iii. a merrymen called ROY is NOT CANON and thus a MARKED MERRYMEN, comic energy notwithstanding
POLITICAL ANACHRONISM OF THE WEEK: “I prefer working within the system”
AWESOME IDEA SEMI-WELL EXECUTED OF THE WEEK: fite using FAKE BABY (also: TINY BOW AND ARROWS aw)
NOT-AT-ALL DESPERATE PRO-SERIES “CLEVER” ANALYSIS OF THE WEEK: Fools everywhere are doubtless mocking this in their strawman way but the CRAPNESS of the outlaws qua heroic ensemble and of the Rubbiff of N’s castle qua impenetrable fortress is GOOD ftb both are NEW to the current situation and you don’t get to be genius at either job overnight. So yay for the learning curve.
ABIDING TRUTH OF THE WEEK: Keith Awful Must Go. Gormless of Jizbourne (smokin in ANY jerkin) is funnier every ep tho, as the LEAST EPT SIDEKICK in made-up history. I love how all he does is stand around lookin awkward yet sexy yet useless.
Every time I give up on it someone makes MEAN REMARKS and my resolve triples.