Pynchon

It is New Year's Eve. Happy New Year's Eve, all! Or should that be, Happy New Year?

Whatever.

It is that time again. Yer Pynchon's top 10 films of the year.

It must be said, this year I found it a lot easier to compile a list of my top 10 films. Without checking December 2006's post (I am not going back to look, because looking at old posts depresses me) I seem to remember that last year my first cut totalled 21 films before I whittled it down. This year my first cut was 17 films. Are the films getting worse or am I getting picky? Probably the latter.

Anyway, my list. As always, in no particular order.

1. "The Nines"
2. "Atonement"
3. "Lady Chatterley"
4. "The Bourne Ultimatum"
5. "Molière"
6. "Ne le dis à personne"
7. "Jindabyne"
8. "Das Leben der Anderen"
9. "Venus"
10. "Zwartboek"

Hah! Hark at me. As if anybody gives a toss.

I have a pain behind my eyes.

Lorraine is downstairs watching the Patrick Stewart version of "A Christmas Carol" on DVD. There seems to be something awfully wrong about watching a Christmas movie post Christmas. It feels unlucky and I want nothing to do with it.

From the window in the back room I can see my neighbour, the sexy Keren, letting off fireworks in her back garden. She has a number of friends hanging around, but except for the flashes and small explosions from the fireworks, there is no noise coming from next door at all. I like Keren a lot. She is a nice girl.

I might be getting a promotion at work and it will mean more money. I can barely keep a straight face when they talk to me about 'mentoring' and 'watching the numbers' and 'looking after the new people'. I can barely be bothered. I am crusing and I feel like a complete fraud and shyster, especially when Lorraine is working herself to death.

I have butterflies in my stomach. I do not know why.

The only resolution I am making for 2008 is to try to be happy. One way or another. Oh, yes. One more resolution. I don't want this blog to be just about movies. It was not what I intended it to be, when I started it all those years ago. Somehow I have lost sight of what I wanted. I will find it again.

I hope you all get the 2008 that you need, even if it is not the 2008 that you think you need.

Pynchon signing off for 2007.



Be lucky.

Labels: Movies, Thoughts

Lorraine is still feeling like shit. As neither Lorraine or I are very good at being sick, or come to that very good at looking after the person who is being sick, you might say that tensions are high at Residence Chez Pynchon. Lorraine cannot sleep because of the coughing. Lorraine is angry, tired and annoyed. I cannot sleep because of the coughing. Ditto. Sometimes, during the night, Lorraine shouts at herself in frustration. Once, after a coughing fit, Lorraine managed to piss herself. Probably a good reason to have a shout at yourself. I know I would if it happened to me.

Lorraine intends to go to work tomorrow. That is assuming that I do not cut her throat in the night.

Swings and roundabouts, though. I came back from shopping today to a glass of Bucks Fizz and a huge slice of some kind of cream and fruit apocalypse, with extra cream poured all over it. I also got a hug. That was nice.

Time for my last two film reviews of the year. There will be no more movies seen at the cinema this year. I am all filmed out.

"I Am Legend".



It's quite interesting how the UK reviews of "I Am Legend" have panned out. The general gist seems to be that most reviewers really liked the first two thirds, but felt that all of the good work was undone by a rushed and unbalanced final third. Broadly I think I would agree with that. The first two thirds of "I Am Legend" are absolute genius, not only because of the brilliant realisation of an abandoned and devastatingly empty New York City, but because of a truly fine performance by Will Smith as Robert Neville.

3 years after a man made disease devastated the human race, Robert Neville is the last man left alive in New York City. He is haunted by dreams of his family, the way the crisis escalated out of control and the responsibility to find a 'fix'. Neville's isolation, depression and slowly building psychosis are a real thing. When night comes, Neville hides away. There is terror and there is dread, because there are things in the dark...

"I Am Legend" is a mostly great film, with a consistently great performance by Will Smith. Head and shoulders above what is the norm for a Christmas blockbuster. It is true that the ending dips into pretty predictable, CGI heavy, action heroics, but if you like that kind of thing, you will enjoy it. I just think that the ending somewhat dissipated the paranoid atmosphere built up earlier in the film. I think that the film deserved a better ending. The ending of the book would have been good. A new world born from the old.

Who am I kidding? No Hollywood studio would have gone for that ending. Way too bleak.

"Paranoid Park".



"Paranoid Park" is about what is going on in the head of a teenage boy after he has experienced a shattering trauma. He is dislocated and remote and 'not all there', or is he just in shock? It really is up to the audience to decide for themselves, because in an experimental movie like this one, no easy answers are forthcoming.

In general I quite like Gus Van Sant's films, but be aware that you need to judge each of his films on their own merits. This is hardly the Gus Van Sant of Hollywoodian mild indie fare like "To Die For", "Psycho", "Good Will Hunting" or "Finding Forrester". Stylistically "Paranoid Park" is a close cousin to his later "Elephant". Low key, quiet, internalised, sometimes naturalistic, but often dreamy, and with a chronologically fractured timeline. None of the actors seemed to be acting at all. Brilliant casting or brilliant acting? I am unsure.

Not for everybody.

I need now to go away and think about my top 10 films of the year. I bet you can hardly wait.

Back tomorrow.

Labels: Illness, Lorraine, Movies, Stress

I will be brief.

Lorraine is home and is feeling like shit. She has some kind of cold or flu bug, which she has picked up from one of her Brother's two sets of twins. Shame she didn't pass it onto her Sister's vile children. (Ooooh, ain't I the nasty one?)

I feel the urge to pamper and look after Lorraine, despite the fact that she has been a pain in the arse since she arrived home. Sometimes this bloody halo hanging around my head is a real nuisance.

A word or two about yesterday's Villa game.

Chelsea 4-4 The Mighty Villa.



It was the most exciting game of football I have ever attended, with the possible exception of the 1994 Coca Cola Cup semi final against Tranmere Rovers. Villa were just fantastic. We should have won it. In fact, it feels like a win as we played practically the whole of the second half with one man down.

0-2 up at half time. Dodgy penalty decision and Zat Knight sent off. The penalty converted. 1-2. Half time. Second half. They equalised. 2-2. Then they went ahead. 3-2. Then we equalised. 3-3. Then they went ahead again. 4-3. Then, in the last minute, we got a penalty and the Iceman Gareth Barry put it away. 4-4.

Some reports are calling it the game of the season. I wouldn't disagree with that. As you can see I am a really bad reviewer of football games. I go to so few of them. Look up some of the proper reviews for yourself. All I will say is that we shat 'em.

I also saw "I Am Legend" today. I will write about that film next time.

Labels: Football, Illness, Lorraine

Just a quick post before I head into town to meet my Brother. We are off to watch the Chelsea/Villa match. I have high hopes that we can turn them over, but I don't think we have won a game on Boxing Day for ages. Never mind. The game itself is just incidental to the day out.

Nice day yesterday. Too much food. Too much drink. Very loud house. Sister 1 very stressed. Sister 2 not stressed at all. Sister 3 looking incredibly overweight. My Brother drunk and morose. My Niece and Nephew dancing to a Rihanna CD. My Mom looking very content.

I opened a couple of late presents at Sister 3's. One of them was a biro with my name on it, that I think was bought as a laugh. I hope it was bought as a laugh. I believe that Lorraine has a similar biro that will be presented to her when she returns.

I went home and watched the "Doctor Who" Christmas special. It was alright, but it probably did not match up to the trailer, a bit like all of the Christmas specials so far. La Minogue was OK. Half of the fun is in trying to work out what Russell T. Davies has included in the script that is going to have meaning later on. Remember the passing mention of "Torchwood" in the first special and the passing mention of "Mr. Saxon" who gave the order to destroy the spaceship last year? The rumour is that La Minogue has shot a little bit of footage to be used in the climax of the next series, which means that she would be appearing alongside all of the ladies that have accompanied the Doctor so far. Some kind of a trap, or is it just smoke and mirrors? I try not to delve too deep into spoiler country. Why ruin the surprise?

I need to go. Probably back tomorrow.

Labels: Christmas, Family, Television

Happy Christmas, everyone.

This is a new experience for me. The first time ever I have woken up on Christmas morning (ridiculously early, might I add) with nobody else in the house. I thought that I would feel depressed, but things are fine. How strange is that? True, I still have to go around to Sister 3's for lunch with the whole family, so after a couple of bottles of San Miguel, which Sister 3 has kindly got in for me, I might feel slightly differently.

There was one film I saw just prior to Christmas that I forgot to write about and that film was "It's A Wonderful Life". How appropriate that I write about it today, with it being Christmas and all that?



Is there anything actually left to write about "It's A Wonderful Life" that hasn't already been written? Forget all about it being the greatest Christmas film of all time ("The Wizard Of Oz" is also a great film, but it is not really a Christmas film), "It's A Wonderful Life" is actually one of the greatest films of all time, full stop.

Simply put, the film revolves around the life of a kind and caring, but frustrated man, who one night during the worst crisis of his life, is shown what the world would have been like if had he never been born. Funnily enough, the whole 'alternative reality' section of the movie takes up less than a quarter of the running time towards the end of the film, although it is always the thing that is mentioned when discussing the film. Prior to that plot turn we are treated to a master class in film acting from the genius that was James Stewart, running from goofy comedy, shyness, happiness, disappointment, frustration, despair and then the blackest dark night of the soul. It is one of the greatest performances in cinema history and I will fight anybody who disagrees with me.

In the packed cinema on Saturday I sat near a young woman who had obviously never seen "It's A Wonderful Life" before. Every now and again I picked up on her reactions to what was going on in the movie. Laughter, gasps and then, of course, tears. She was still wiping her eyes when the lights came up. Actually, so was I.

"It's A Wonderful Life" is a great, big, fat masterpiece and everybody should see it.

********

I have a Christmas CD to put together. Then I am going to watch some TV and then I am going to call a taxi.

Have a good day, friends.

Labels: Christmas, Movies

So, after eating two small beef wellingtons and lots of vegetables, yer Pynch feels better and decides to continue boring the universe.

Where was I? Oh, yes. The Bootleg Beatles at the NIA.



The enjoyment of any tribute band is obviously going to be dependant on how you feel about tribute bands in general. Are they a

a) Bad thing, because they stifle creativity and deny a band the chance to write and play new music?

Or are they a

b) Good thing, because they let the punters indulge in harmless nostalgia, keeping classic music alive and introducing it to new audiences who never have had the chance to see those bands live?

Personally I would go with b), but that is just me. I have seen the Bootleg Beatles 5 times in about 15 years (it would have been 6, but one year I was stricken with flu) and have enjoyed the gig every time. I'm afraid that enjoyment of a gig will win out every time over high minded ideals of music having to move forward constantly.

This time there was some fiddling with the structure of the show. Normally the show is in sections (1962 through 1963, 1964 through 1965, 1966, 1967 and then 1968 through 1969), split by archive footage, shown on the big screen, of the news and music events at the time. This time around the band skipped almost the entirety of 1964 (except "I Feel Fine") and 1966 (except for "Eleanor Rigby" and "Yellow Submarine") which meant that some of my very favourite songs were not performed. ("Paperback Writer", "Taxman", "And Your Bird Can Sing" and "A Hard Day's Night".) Oh, well. Never mind. There were a handful of songs played that I certainly have never heard the band play live before, including "Across The Universe", "This Boy" and "If I Needed Someone" and that made up for it.

The Bootleg Beatles are very good at what they do. Musically they are really good and accurate and crucially it is all done with some humour. How about , "We'll just play another hit before we split up again..." or "Paul needs the money, so we're going to play this one..." or 'John' starting to play "Imagine" before stopping with the comment, "Sorry, I haven't written that one yet".

Well, I thought it was funny.

It was a really good gig. At least 7000 people in the cut down NIA thought so to. Up and dancing from the beginning.

Labels: Gigs

Just checking in. I don't know where the time has gone. Maybe I am crashing. Time is speeding up and slowing down. Two gigs and two films in two days. Late nights and early starts. Definitely not enough sleep and definitely not eating properly. I will remedy that later. I am going nowhere else today.

So, where was I? This might be a bit all over the place, chronologically.

"We Own The Night".



My Brother claims that he fell asleep four times during "We Own The Night" because it was so slow. That's not good. He also claims that the latter parts of the film were good and that it had a strong climax. That is good. I would definitely call that a mixed review.

There have been a lot of mixed reviews of "We Own The Night" in the UK. The general gist of the seems to have been that "We Own The Night" compares badly to other recent crime dramas like "The Departed". Well, I have never seen "The Departed", and obviously cannot comment, but I didn't think that "We Own The Night" was bad at all, and I certainly didn't fall asleep.

Joaquin Phoenix is successful night club manager Bobby Green. At heart he is a decent guy, but he exists on fringes of the Russian underworld, and knows too many of the wrong people. His father Bert (Robert Duvall) is a dedicated and honest career policeman, a path destined to be taken by his brother Joe (Mark Wahlberg), recently promoted within the force to fight the kind of crime associated with Bobby's friends. Bobby has kept his family background quiet, even going so far as to change his last name. Family loyalty is tested when a request for help is rejected and somebody is hurt. Bobby then finds himself in danger and his life starts to unravel.

I thought that "We Own The Night" was a good film, with Joaquin Phoenix being particularly impressive as Bobby, centre stage and onscreen for almost the entire movie. During the latter stages his sense of dread, hopelessness and stress are almost palpable. Add to this great supporting turns from a serious and rigid Mark Wahlberg (be aware he has much less screen time than you might think), a smoking hot Eva Mendes and an aged and powerful Robert Duvall, and you have something really worth seeing.

Ocean Colour Scene at the Carling Academy.



I have seen Ocean Colour Scene live three times.

The first time was at the tail end of Britpop (1997?) where they played at the full sized NIA and Paul Weller guested on a couple of tracks. They were OK, but the venue was too big for them.

The second time was in 2002, again at the full sized NIA. They were supporting Oasis. Frankly they blew a bored and disinterested Oasis off the stage. Just brilliant. A fantastic set of all of their best songs.

The third time was last night.

I cannot in all honesty say that they were as fantastic as they were in 2002, but they were better than in 1997, and as pre-Christmas hometown gigs go it was pretty good. True, I was as pissed as a skunk, my Brother and I having been in the Square Peg for a couple of hours. So much for my Brother acting as a break on my drinking too much.

This is a new one. I have a set list. I nabbed it from one of the sound engineers as the gig ended.

"The Riverboat Song"
"Man In The Middle"
"The Circle"
"Get Blown Away"
"You Got It Bad"
"I Just Need Myself"
"It's My Shadow"
"Robin Hood"
"I Won't Get Grazed"
"Foxy Folked Faced"
"This Day Should Last Forever"
"100 Mile High City"
"Just Got Over You"
"July"
"Profit In Peace"
"One For The Road"
"Travellers Tune"
"Got To Sea Boy"
"Get Away"

"Better Day"
"The Day We Caught The Train"
"Day Tripper"

Now, that was a pretty good set. Mad crowd. Lot's of dancing. Lot's of singing along, in between the drinking. Not bad for a band who are still very tied into a specific point in British music, as are the much more successful Oasis, truth be told. I would go to see Ocean Colour Scene again and I won't leave it 5 years next time.

Here is one of their absolute classics. "We are, we are, we are the Mods!"



At the gig I ran into a guy who used to work at The Corporation and from the way I was greeted you would have thought that I was his best friend ever. I wasn't. In fact he was a miserable shit who made Lorraine's job very difficult. She danced around without her bra on when he finally left. (At home, not at work, more's the pity.) Christmas bonhomie. We shook hands. We chewed the fat. We had drinks. We embraced at the end and he fucked off into the crowd. Sometimes you just have to hold your tongue, don't you?

I am feeling a little dizzy. Probably a good time to stop and eat something. Back later.

Labels: Christmas, Gigs, Movies

One year gone, Benny. I miss you, big lad.

I have finished work now until next Friday. Last night was The Corporation's Christmas Party. I didn't go. I couldn't be arsed. I did leave work with mine and Lorraine's Secret Santa presents. Mine was a bloody huge, heavy parcel, on which somebody had written "Slightly over the budget, but you deserve it, John". (The budget this year was a fiver.) Hmm... I didn't recognise the handwriting. A secret admirer, then?

Instead I spent the evening wrapping Christmas presents and watching "Cabaret" on cable. I haven't seen that film in years. It's a great film. I really should make the effort to go down to the smoke to see the production at the Lyric theatre, starring Amy Nutall and Julian Clary. I have been promising myself that for a long time. Although how Amy Nutall will compare to Liza Minnelli or Julian Clary to the sheer malevolence that was Joel Grey, I really don't know.

I was up at 6am this morning to get shopping done. Sainsburys and Marks and Spencer. The shops were busy, even early in the morning, but I was still all done by 10am. It is a really strange experience shopping for one. I have probably bought way too much.

This afternoon I am going to see "It's A Wonderful Life" at the MAC, and from there it is up to the NIA to see the Bootleg Beatles.

Time for some breakfast, a couple of phone calls and then a nap.

Have a good day folks.

Labels: Chores, Christmas, Gigs, Movies

Lorraine has just phoned. She has got to her destination safely.

Do I need to write about how much I miss her nuisance and about how quiet the house is without her in it? Do I need to write about how cold I felt standing in the hallway on my own and about how I felt so disheartened at the thought of cooking for myself, that all I have had is a mince pie and a beer for my tea?

No. I don't need to write about any of that. I will adjust. I will feel better tomorrow. It's not as if she has gone for good.

Anyway, it has been a busy couple of days. Two films and one gig.

On Tuesday morning I went to see "Enchanted".



Oh, my... Excuse my French, but "Enchanted" is just fucking fantastic. So good and enchanting (see what I did there?) that when the movie was over I practically floated out of the cinema.

Seriously, "Enchanted" is a really great family movie, and this is from a man who hardly ever watches family movies at the cinema. If you like, "Enchanted" is a Disney movie for people who hate Disney movies. Comedy for the kids, knowing in-jokes for the adults and a brilliant central performance by Amy Adams as Giselle, cartoon ingenue come to life, all wide eyed innocence and fluttering hand movements. If you see a more game and better comedic performance this year, please let me know, but I doubt if you will. Amy Adams is just wonderful.

Great supporting performances from cynical divorce lawyer with a heart of gold, Patrick Dempsey, more square jawed that any man in history, James Marsden, villainous hag and evil witch queen, Susan Sarandon and snivelling henchman, Timothy Spall. Not to forget the comedy chipmunk. Or was it a comedy rat?

I think that "Enchanted" is well worth the trip to your local fleapit.

On Tuesday evening I went to see From The Jam featuring Bruce Foxton and Rick Buckler, at the Carling Academy in Birmingham.



I am going to cheat, because I am feeling lazy.

Let me direct you to a good review of a From The Jam show, written by Swiss Toni a couple of weeks ago, that you can find here, and my own review of the Wulfrun Hall show I went to back in May, that you can find here. If I bothered to write a new review I would mostly only be repeating myself, because From The Jam (again) were just bloody brilliant.

Differences this time.

1. Yer Pynch was not smashed out of his face. His Brother wasn't drinking much, so neither did he.
2. Yer Pynch did not pass out. See above.
3. The band opened with "All Mod Cons" and "To Be Someone (Didn't We Have A Nice Time)" (which is the greatest post Britpop song of all time, by the way) instead of "In The City" and (I think) "Thick As Thieves".
4. There were no Suburban Hen lookalikes anywhere in sight. In fact, thinking about it, I don't think I saw anybody of the fair female form anywhere in the venue.

It was a really great gig. I think that Bruce and Rick are onto a winner here. Maybe a Christmas tour will be a regular occurrence, like the annual Madness and Pogues gigs? Maybe From The Jam will produce a new album and it will be fantastic.

Maybe.

On Wednesday morning I went to see "Hitman".

As personality free, vacuous and empty, but gorgeous looking action movies go, "Hitman" wasn't bad at all. True, Timothy Olyphant was a bit miscast as a baldy action star (Jason Statham might have been better) he did his best, but "Hitman" did entertain me and had some great set pieces, and Olga Kurylenko was a beautiful as she was in "Le Serpent", albeit maybe a little thin. I just don't think I understood or got all of "Hitman" in the way I was supposed to.

Before I saw "Hitman" I talked to a guy at work who is a dedicated computer game player and he asked me if I liked the previous computer game adaptation, "Doom". I told him that I thought "Doom" was a piece of shit. He smiled and said that in that case to forget about seeing "Hitman" , because I wouldn't get the references, the imagery or the nods to the game playing scenarios in the original game.

Maybe he was right, but I have always been of the opinion that a movie adaptation of material from another source, should not limit your audience to only those with an in depth knowledge of the source. Your audience should be everybody with the potential to want to sit through your movie. True, you have to be relatively faithful to the source material, otherwise why bother with the source material at all?, but the requirements of making an interesting movie should come first and foremost.

I liked "Hitman" well enough. A decent enough movie for a Wednesday morning, but that was about all. It is not a classic, but I imagine it will make it's money back on sell through.

Labels: Gigs, Lorraine, Movies, Music, Sad

It has been a busy couple of days, but as it is the last evening that Lorraine and I will be spending together until late next week, as tomorrow she disappears down south to spend Christmas with her family, I think that writing about "Enchanted", From The Jam and "Hitman" can wait until another time.

No time to read any blogs, but I hope that everyone is well.

Back tomorrow.

Labels: Gigs, Lorraine, Movies

This evening's post has been derailed somewhat, because my memory was playing tricks on me. Good job I did a little bit of research before I wrote anything down, isn't it?

I will explain.

It's old news anyway, because it was announced last week, that at next year's Brit Awards Paul McCartney will be picking up the Lifetime Achievement Award.

Well deserved, if you ask me, but of course I would say that. Everyone who knows me knows that I am a huge Beatles fan. (I'll be at the Bootleg Beatles gig at the NIA at the weekend, kids!) The Beatles were one of the great bands and I personally think that some of Macca's solo work has also been very good. Even if you are a Macca hater, and they are legion, you would have to agree that even if the criteria for a Lifetime Acheivement Award were only longevity as a recording artist (45 years and counting) and record sales (large, very large), he would have to be a prime candidate.

However, I had problems with the choice because, as I remembered it, Macca had already picked up the Lifetime Achivement Award at a Brit Awards in the early 80's, when that ceremony was still called the Bristish Rock and Pop Awards. Why should Macca pick up the award again when a multitude of other artists had yet to be celebrated?

Like...

The Rolling Stones.
Led Zeppellin
Phil Collins/Genesis. (Certainly not my cup of tea, but they have sold a lot of records over a very long time.)
Steve Winwood.
Elvis Costello.
Blur. (If they can give it to Oasis, they certainly should give it to Blur.)
Pink Floyd.
Ray Davies and the Kinks.
Sting.
The Pet Shop Boys.
Depeche Mode.
UB40.
Brian Ferry and Roxy Music.
Robbie Williams? (No apologies. I love him.)

I could go on and on, but hopefully you get my drift.

True, I seem to have read somewhere that a pre-requiste to picking up the award is the willingness to perform live on the night, but that does not always happen. Queen won the award in 1990 and did not perform. True, if Freddie Mercury had not been seriously ill it might have been a different story.

I certainly do not think that pop music started and ended with the Beatles, or the Sixties come to that, and rather than giving Macca the award twice somebody else should have been given the nod, even if they had chosen not to perform.

Except...

I then found out that Macca has never received a Lifetime Achivement Award at the Brit Awards or the British Rock and Pop Awards. He won Best Male Singer once, but that is neither here nor there.

About time he got it then!!

Ho hum.

I don't even know why I continued with the post. Kind of pointless. Paint myself into a corner.

Talk amongst yourselves.

Labels: Music

Yes, last night the TV blew up, with a very loud bang, a retina burning flash of light and kind of attractive wisps of smoke coming from the back of it. I was surprised the electricity stayed on and the windows stayed intact. It was a very loud bang.

The bad news: When the 5 year renewal date for cover came up in October last year we decided not to renew. Shit.

The good news: We were forced to buy a new TV and stand. It did cost a bomb, so why was this good news? Well, let me explain.

The new TV is a lovely Panasonic. Black finish, 32 inch widescreen, good sound quality, as thin as an After Eight mint, HD ready and with a built in Freeview box. (Not that built in Freeview box was ever a deciding factor. We have always relied on our cable box for TV pictures as our Aeriel reception has always been shit because of the... er... absence of an Aeriel. Lorraine told me a long time ago that the daft woman who lived in the house before us took the Aeriel with her from the loft when she left. I've never questioned that story. I stuck my head in the loft once, but have never actually been in there.)

As I have the physical dexterity of Laurel and Hardy, Lorraine put the stand together, hooked up the TV, DVD player and cable box, plugged in the Aeriel cable (although we knew that it would not produce much) and turned it all on. She went through the setup and... oooh, fantastic. Glorious pictures, great sound, etc.

The interesting thing was that the cable box was not switched on. Where were the pictures coming up? God? The future? (I have seen "Prince Of Darkness". Forget what the critics said about it. It is one of John Carpenter's best films.) No. They were coming from the digital Aeriel in the loft that neither of us knew anything about. It had been there for 6 years, at least.

So, where exactly did the story of the Aeriel being removed from the loft come from? Did Lorraine really believe that story or had she made it up? Maybe she been in the loft and just happened to miss it? Possibly. I am not going to pursue it.

We now have a cracking TV with Freeview and a few more channels. True, the TV cost a bomb, but we can live with that.

Inside every cloud there is a silver lining, and all that kind of thing...

On top of that Leon won "The X-Factor". Excellent. I didn't mind Rhydian, or Same Difference come to that, but it is nice to see the underdog win sometimes.



It has been a good day.

Labels: Television

The fucking TV has blown up.

Labels: Stress

You might say that Christmas has finally started at Residence Chez Pynchon.

Lorraine has cluttered the living room with trimmings, singing polar bears, saxophone playing snowmen, rapping Santa Claus', fibre optic Christmas trees and flashing lights (both draining precious resources from the National Grid), chocolate and wooden advert calenders. I can barely walk across the room without tripping over some bloody stray elf.

Pain in the arse. Bah, humbug, grumble, moan.

My Christmas shopping for presents for Lorraine is now complete with the purchase of two tickets for the Birmingham Hippodrome production of the musical "Doctor Dolittle" in May. It will star the legendary Tommy Steele. Apparently 70 years ago, when Lorraine was a young woman, she saw Tommy Steele performing at the London Palladium and never quite recovered from it. I am sure she will like the present.

There may be one more present. Neil Diamond is touring next year and will be at the O2 Arena in June. Seventy quid or so a ticket, without the booking fee.

Hmm... Do I want tickets for Lorraine or for me? That is the question, isn't it?

I feel a clip coming on.

Labels: Christmas

I was very sad to read today that Terry Pratchett has been diagnosed with Alzheimer's disease.

I came late to Pratchett' work. In fact I started reading the 5th book in his Discworld series ("Sourcery") only last week. All good, funny books so far and lots more to go. Lorraine has read practically all of the Discworld books.

Part of Pratchett's statement on his condition.

"I know it's a very human thing to say 'is there anything I can do', but in this case I would only entertain offers from very high-end experts in brain chemistry."

Nice one.

Get well soon, Mr. Pratchett.

Labels: Reading, Sad

As yer Pynchon manages to get over himself, he decides today to write about "The Golden Compass".



The fine writer Tom Stoppard apparently wrote an early screenplay adaptation of "Northern Lights" (the original title of the first novel in Phillip Pullman's "His Dark Materials" trilogy). It was never used as it was rejected by the director Chris Weitz who wrote his own screenplay. One day I would very much like to read Tom Stoppard's screenplay, as I am sure that it must have been better than the near shambles of an adaptation that I witnessed last Sunday.

(Saying that, I have also read comments on the web from people who have compared Stoppard's version with Weitz's original, early draft of "The Golden Compass" and said that Weitz's version was better than Stoppard's and was also longer and more satisfying than the filmed version. If that is the case, why the hell wasn't Weitz's original screenplay used? Distrust that an audience could sit through a long fantasy film, maybe? Or was it just down to money? Anyway, onwards...)

The key to a good, literary cinematic adaptation is what to leave in, what to take out and what to amalgamate. On those terms Chris Weitz's "The Golden Compass" fails completely to get to grips with the literary source. (Check out "L. A. Confidential", if you want to see what I mean by a good cinematic adaptation. That film had 400 characters reduced to 40, and although the Ellroy's original ending was fudged, it was still a brilliant literary adaptation.)

"The Golden Compass" is way too cluttered, busy and disjointed and way, way too fast. It proceeds at a breakneck pace through nearly all of the plot of "Northern Lights" and is squeezed uncomfortably into a sub 2 hours running time. "The Golden Compass" should have been longer. I reckon another hour might have done it justice. (Put this note in your diary. This may be the first time yer Pynchon has ever suggested that a film is too short. Normally it is the opposite way around.)

... And the worst thing about "The Golden Compass"? The ending. Awful. Rubbish. Truncated. Hated it. It completely omitted the crucial, turnabout events of the last 3 chapters of "Northern Lights", and in the process, the true cliffhanger. I believe that the material was filmed. Some of the footage made it into at least one of the trailers I have seen.

"The Golden Compass" does look amazing. Good production design, mostly good special effects (some of the armoured bear CGI is ropey) and the realisation of the daemons is very well done. It also has a fair share of good performances, especially Dakota Blue Richards and Nicole Kidman. Daniel Craig as Lord Asriel is good, although he is not as good as Philip Pullman's choice of Jason Isaac might have been.

Disappointing then, but only for me. Lorraine said she liked it, but I think she said that just to piss me off.

********

In a recent survey 100 people were asked:

“Are there too many foreigners in Britain ?”

The results are as follows:

20%: Yes

10%: No

70%: معهد الأمن العالمي بواشنطن.

Labels: Humour, Movies

It is never a good idea to re-read old posts and realise that the energy, the humour and, basically, the quality of the writing has gone downhill. (As if there is any quality about what I do.) Nothing much about me, anymore. Just stuff about films, films, films and more films. A million people do that better than me.

I don't think I will bother tonight.

Labels: Thoughts, Writing

Niki voted off "The X-Factor"?

Fuck off! Bollocks. Fucking outrageous! I piss on the taste of the British public.

Maybe I am taking this too seriously, but I have been waiting to write that since last night.

Anyway, here is the lady doing a really cracking song.



In other news I saw "The Golden Compass" this afternoon. I will write about that tomorrow.

Labels: Music, Television

"August Rush".



Young Evan Taylor (Freddie Highmore) is the result of a one night stand between wannabe rock star Louis Connelly (Jonathan Rhys Meyers) and talented cellist Lyla Novacek (Keri Russell). Evan has been brought up in an orphanage and has never known his parents, but he has a dream that one day, if they get to hear his music, they will come to him...

I rather enjoyed "August Rush" for it's (yes) fine music and good performances, including an extended, quite dark and sinister faginesque cameo by Robin Williams, an actor hardly known for his restraint on the big screen. "August Rush" is a definitely a fantasy, a mood piece, as insubstantial as tissue paper and definitely one to avoid if you are of a cynical bent.

As enjoyable as it is, I am not at all sure if "August Rush" will find an audience (although it did run for two weeks at that bastion of the blockbuster, the Cineworld multiplex on Broad Street in Birmingham), being too sentimental and dippy for an adult audience and too self consciously poetic and slow for a young audience.

Who cares? I liked it.

Labels: Movies

How strange. The last couple of comments received on the blog did not send an automatic email to my email address, but the comment I just put on did send an email.

Hmm... Sorry for ignoring anybody. I wasn't really.

I will write about "August Rush" tomorrow. I know what I want to say, but I have kind of run out of time. I promised Lorraine that I would go into work with her early tomorrow and I should have been in bed an hour ago.

Re. Work, things are afoot. Good things, despite my best efforts to sabotage them.

Next time.

Labels: Fucking Blogger, Work

My intention for December was to post every day, regardless of whether I had anything to write or not. Well, that was one thing I never managed to do. Sorry about that. I was watching the season 1 finale of "Heroes", which was a bit underwhelming if I'm honest, and then it was late and I was tired.

I'm here now, lucky people.

Over my extended weekend I saw two films at the cinema. The first was "Fred Claus".



For adults (kids have different criteria) enjoyment of "Fred Claus" is going to be completely down to if you like the character Vince Vaughan has been peddling since "Swingers". You know that guy. Selfish, crass, loud, brash and supremely confident. If you don't like that character, stay away. "Fred Claus" ain't gonna be for you.

However, if you do like that character, and I do like Vince Vaughan an awful lot, "Fred Claus" is a really enjoyable movie. Yes, there is a headlong lurch into sentimentally towards the end (de riguer for any family comedy?), but most of it is scurrilous and funny and silly. Plenty of entertainment for kids (I particularly liked Santa's ninja bodyguards), adults (the sibling support group joke is really funny) and film fans (the nod towards Kevin Spacey's role in "Superman Returns").

Or if none of that is interesting enough, you could always just ogle Rachel Weisz and Elizabeth Banks. I know I did.

Lorraine wants the laptop. I'll write about "August Rush" tomorrow.

Labels: Movies

Crowded House at the Birmingham NEC, 3rd December 2007.



Any band that decides to reform, record and tour after a long layoff (11 years in the case of Crowded House), inevitably will face problems in the live arena. Not problems in being unable to play (certainly not the case here), but in what to play. If, for instance, the Floyd (Hi there Mark!) decided to reform and tour a new record, do you think that the shouts for "Comfortably Numb" would drown out the new songs? I think that it would. Or maybe Floyd fans are more patient than most?

Crowded House released a new album "Time On Earth" in July. It's very good and, quite rightly, went top 3 in the UK. Obviously the guys wanted to play some of those songs live, and they did.

I don't think the (typically) apathetic crowd at the Birmingham NEC were particularly bothered about the new songs. Maybe that's to be expected, but they remained impatiently glued to their seats until the band kicked into "It's Only Natural". Then they were on their feet and dancing and all was right with the world. Really right with the world. Maybe the band should have started with something like "Chocolate Cake" or "Locked Out" ? I think so. Get 'em going straight away.

I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll write the guys a letter. My advice is always sought by discerning individuals.

Anyway, minor gripes aside, Crowded House were just spectacular. Just wonderful. The third time I've seen them in 15 years (the first two times only 6 months apart) and still brilliant. Still purveyors of superior, emotional and evocative pop music, and a fine line in audience participation.

How's this for some of the songs? Not in any order and I have missed a stack out.

"Distant Sun", "Weather With You", "Better Be Home Soon", "Into Temptation", "Don't Dream It's Over", "Locked Out", "It's Only Natural", "Pour Le Monde", "Fall At Your Feet", "There Goes God", "Italian Plastic" (which they dedicated to Paul Hester), "Four Seasons In One Day", "Pineapple Head".

You know those songs, and if you don't, what the hell is wrong with you?

Apparently Crowded House are going into the studio next year to record a new album, so no doubt another tour will happen when that is released. I hope so. I will be there even if my Brother may not. He vanished during the encore, saying that he had to go to the toilet. 8 lagers will do that to you.

Labels: Gigs

I am back from Crowded House. I am magnificently drunk having had, what you might say, a cracking time with my Brother. My sing-a-long vocals were brilliant, thanks for asking.

I am way too drunk to write anything sensible now, so I will do so tomorrow.

Not too drunk to find a great clip off You Tube, though.



RIP: Paul Hester.

Update: 4th December 2007 @ 11:00.
Of course it helps to actually click on the 'Publish Post' button, doesn't it?

Miracle of miracles, no hangover. So, I am off to see "August Rush". Back later.

Labels: Gigs

"The Nines".



Ryan Reynolds is Gary, a slightly dim and befuddled actor, under house arrest.

Ryan Reynolds is Gavin, a gay writer, trying to get his TV pilot picked up by the network.

Ryan Reynolds is Gabriel, a games designer, trying to get a signal so that he can make a call on his mobile phone.

Who are all of these people and why do they all look like Ryan Reynolds?

It's an almost impossible task to review "The Nines" without the risk of spoilers, so I am not going to try. It would be a vile crime against one of the best films of the year for any spoilers to be aired here. So, in the vaguest possible terms I can muster, "The Nines" is about alternative realities, games, God, TV, friendship, betrayal, drugs, family life and numbers.

"The Nines" is a brilliant piece of work, in the tradition of the fractured storytelling of movies like David Lynch's "Lost Highway" and "Mulholland Drive". It is a true jigsaw puzzle of a movie and will leave you scratching your head and wanting more. Great performances from Ryan Reynolds (who would have thought it?), Hope Davis (expected) and Melissa McCarthy (never heard of her).

I thought that "The Nines" was a really great film. Straight into my top 10 of the best films of 2007.

Labels: Movies

Never shag a retarded dwarf.

It's not big and it's not clever.

Labels: Humour