D.R. Watchword

Where Has The Writing Gone?

2010-11-02T14:14:00.000-07:00

...It's moved! As part of my postgraduate journalism course I had to move to the dark side - Wordpress! So, if you would like to read more musical musings please go check it out... Beat The Static, or if you're interested in the effect the internet has had on journalism I've got a bit of a techno blog going on too at World Wide What?

This isn't necessarily the end of DR Watchword...I might come back to it later...when I've learned how to be a much better writer.

Peace out x

Tubelord at Buffalo Bar, Cardiff. 3rd October 2010.

2010-10-04T11:25:00.000-07:00

See that word in the title there? The 'Cardiff' one? Yes, I've moved to the Welsh-land! And it was only after moving all the way to Cardiff that I finally managed to see a band I've been getting more and more into, who hail from my hometown of Kingston, go figure!

Set in the very edgy photo-plastered upstairs room in Buffalo Bar (which does a good pie in the downstairs restaurant), a great line-up of past and present Big Scary Monsters bands gave us a highly entertaining show, starting with Muscle Club, Tall Ships, and finally headliners, Tubelord.

Muscle Club gave a really strong performance to start the night off, some really punchy tunes and strong vocals that had a maturity exceeding the guys' boyish good looks! Since I hadn't really heard much of their material before, they definitely warrant some more research.

I've been fortunate enough to see Tall Ships some 3 times now, and they're incredible every time. It's not often you get to see a band who are so talented that they regularly swap instruments, create such a rich and varied sound, whilst having a great time on stage as they cheekily grin their way through the set. These guys have quite a following now, with most of the audience singing along to tracks like 'Vessels'. As part of their new EP release on 25th October (go buy it!), they also played new song, 'Plate Tectonics', "dedicated to anyone that likes rocks", and I can honestly say that after the massive build of tension that carried the whole audience along with it, everyone just stood there gobsmacked once they'd finished. They're bloody good.

Last but not least, Tubelord. Sporting a slightly different formation than usual, with borrowed vocals from Alan Welsh from Tangled Hair, as usual frontman Joe Prendergast had reportedly mislaid his voice. Or lost it, whatever. While Alan put in a damn good effort - after all, it can't be easy singing someone else's songs, especially when he's bashing away on the guitar behind you, probably itching to be able to do the job himself - it wasn't quite the same as Joe has a set of pretty distinctive vocal chords that do really lend themselves to the songs. Despite this, it was a better choice than cancelling, and the performance was really enjoyable.

I may just have to go and see them again once Joe is fully recovered. Maybe just for research purposes...Maybe because they're achingly good...Maybe to see if they play 'Synthesize' next time, please...

So Who's This Scott Pilgrim Fella?

2010-08-26T13:19:00.000-07:00

Posters are plastered about the place, the ads are on TV, even though it only came out at the cinema yesterday, chances are that you've already heard of 'Scott Pilgrim vs The World'. I had when I went to see it, but nothing could have prepared me for the visual onslaught that ensued. I won't give it all away, and it would be an impossibly long post if I did, so fear not.

Directed by Edgar Wright, who brought us the likes of 'Hot Fuzz' and 'Shaun of the Dead', some laughs were definitely expected - especially since I only have to look at main man Michael Cera (the geeky anti-hero of 'Juno' and 'Superbad') to crack a smile. And there are some fantastic comedy moments, but that's not the main basis that makes this film so great. Wright brings something completely new and exciting to cinema that his former movies do not even hint at. This is strongly linked to the fact that the film is based on the 'Scott Pilgrim' comic book series by Bryan Lee O'Malley, like in 'Sin City', Wright has used the comic book medium; every time a phone rings, a brash, stylised 'RING RING' flashes on screen. But there is more. There are video games too, oh yes!

I'm going to be totally honest here - I think I had a bit of a video game deprived childhood, because I don't know many. I at least managed to get the Super Mario references. But, even without knowing the specific games, the references still work, and allow you to really enjoy leaving reality behind as Scott Pilgrim battles a succession of evil exes in order to get the girl of his dreams, multicoloured quirky beauty, Ramona Flowers.

As geeky chic bassist with an unnatural sensitivity to his haircut, Michael Cera is perfect for the part - he is the quietly determined underdog that everyone loves, and packs some impressive punches despite his skinny limbs. Despite one rather cringey musical moment involving the duel with boyfriend number 1, Matthew Patel, the movie is compulsive viewing from start to finish. At times, the pace is so fast, slickly switching between dream, reality, time and place, with witty captions flashing up every now and again, that I think it would take several viewings to take it all in.

I, for one, am quite eager to go back to the cinema and watch it again.

Double points score!

Kings of Leon, Hyde Park, 30/6/10

2010-07-01T14:00:00.000-07:00

There's nothing better than booking some exciting gig tickets, looking forward to it for months, waiting for the date to slowly tick round. But managing to scavenge a ticket just a couple of days before the gig and having the excitement thrust upon you all at once ain't half bad either. With doors at 2.30pm on a Wednesday afternoon, it also provides a major plus to being currently out of work (though just don't mention the matter of trying to pay for the pricey ticket).

To be fair, there was a lot of music for your money, as KoL were supported by The Features, The Whigs, The Drums and The Black Keys (my friend had mistakenly thought it was the Black Eyed Peas...not sure if 'I Gotta Feelin' ' would've gone down so well in this crowd). The Features are signed to the Kings of Leon's partly owned label 'Imprint', and The Whigs previously supported the guys on the 'Only By The Night' tour, so it's a pretty friendly outfit. Hotly tipped band, The Drums, gave a solid performance of their laid back quirky rock, big hit 'Let's Go Surfing' was a particular high point. Finally, The Black Keys, whose latest album 'Brothers' has caused a bit of a stir, also got the crowd going, but seemed to leave behind the material from the six (six!) previous albums which any die hard fans may have found a little disappointing.

On to the headliners, I'd had a niggling worry in the back of my mind all day before these guys came on stage after hearing somewhat underwhelming things about their headlining performance at Reading last year. Luckily, it seems Hyde Park agrees with them. Frontman Caleb Followill was pretty chatty, clearly humbled by the size of the concert they'd managed to sell out. He even went as far to say that the gig was one of the best experiences of his life. Bless. There were definite advantages to seeing them in between album promotions as the guys played a fairly even mix between all four of their albums - releases and album tracks - as well as a handful of new songs that still have working titles 'Immortals', 'Radioactive' and 'Southbound', which made the forthcoming album seem pretty tempting. Adding to this the fact that they played a cheeky cover of The Pixies' 'Where Is My Mind', which went down very well, a good time was had by all. The one let down, due to no fault of the band, was their performance of 'Sex On Fire' - the song that catapulted them to mainstream international stardom has now been so overplayed, taken over by radio stations like Heart FM, and found it's way into even my mother's musical consciousness...it just doesn't have the same effect it once did when it was released a couple of years ago. But I can't go getting into the problems of bands becoming 'too successful' right now...

Here's the Kings of Leon set list:
'Crawl'
'Taper Jean Girl'
'My Party'
'Be Somebody'
'Immortals'
'Molly's Chambers'
'Fans'
'Milk'
'Closer'
'Mary'
'Wasted'
'4 Kicks'
'The Bucket'
'Radioactive'
'Charmer'
'Where Is My Mind?'
'Sex On Fire'
'Notion'
'On Call'
'Southbound'
'Trani'

Encore:
'Knocked Up'
'Manhattan'
'Use Somebody'
'Black Thumbnail'

Yeasayer - Odd Blood

2010-05-29T04:23:00.000-07:00

Before I begin, can I just say...I can't stop listening to this album! To the point where, from once being enjoyable, it has now become some kind of compulsion. So I'll issue this as a public health warning, some of these tracks are as catchy as...I don't know, some kind of itchy S.T.I. Just be careful, ok?!

So, warning over, I briefly mentioned these guys way back, after I saw them supporting for Bat For Lashes at The Roundhouse. Comprised of three main members, Chris Keating, Anand Wilder and Ira Wolf Tuton - the latter I believe must have the coolest name in the music business. Despite the artists' sounds being so different, they definitely got the crowd hyped up before Natasha Khan's appearance, and it was only fair that they tag along on the tour seeing as the Yeasayer boys part-produced Khan's album 'Two Suns'. Clearly they have many talents. I thought they rocked back then, and their album hasn't disappointed. Well, I say 'rock', instead they kind of 'roll-up-their-blazer-sleeves-and-point-in-time-with-the-music', but rock is a bit quicker to say.

The guys describe their sound as "Middle Eastern psych-snap-gospel", I don't really know what that means, and I'm guessing it's probably just something they made up, because really there is no definitive answer - they are experimental, and as such cannot stick to any one kind of 'sound'. This much is clear from comparing their two albums, 2007's 'All Hour Cymbals' is worlds away from this year's 'Odd Blood'. The songs that instantly caught my, er, ears, were those from 2 to 5, particularly 'Ambling Alp' and 'O.N.E', because they are just awesome dance-filled slices of 80s cake, with a little layer of modern synth and craziness that bring them up to date. There is also a sense of tenderness in 'I Remember', which laments lost love, in a psychadelic kind of way. For those who may have liked the first album, the popularity of this latest offering may be a turn off for fear that the band has sold out and gone mainstream , well, maybe they have a little. There is a lot on the latest album that will definitely be more accessible to more people, but there is no way they have lost their experimental edge - there is a lot of weirdness too! Just a quick listen to opening track 'Children' illustrates that, with a strange robotic voice throughout that sounds a little bit like a remix version of the guy in 'Saw'. No danger of that one ending up being played on Heartfm!

TeenagersInTokyo - Sacrifice

2010-05-27T12:29:00.000-07:00

It's not often I manage to get my mitts on shiny new music so soon after it's release date, but this time I managed it, 'Sacrifice' was released on Monday and has already wormed its way into my musical consciousness.

I had already heard a fair bit about TeenagersInTokyo as they have recently appeared at Brighton's Great Escape Festival, as well as supporting the likes of The Gossip and CSS on tour, and subsequently have been appearing in many a music-review magazine and blog. My interest was only really ignited after stumbling across the video for their single 'Peter Pan', which had a dark, sinister edge that really lent itself to the song - which is incredibly catchy in it's own right.

Comprised of Samantha Lim on vocals, whose voice really ties the whole album together and manages to bring a great sense of chaos whilst remaining sultry and vulnerable, Miska Mandic on keyboard, Linda Marigliano on bass, Sophie McGinn on guitar, and Rudy Udovich on drums, it's a predominantly girlie affair that brings a whole new meaning to the term 'girl power'. No, they don't have their own 'peace' finger signs, in fact from the sounds of it their finger signs would bring a somewhat different meaning, because the band have a really great dark, menacing thing going on that separates them from all of the other 80s revival bands, and female-fronted artists that have flooded the music scene recently.

I love the final track '3046' precisely for this sinister edge, it is quiet, slow, and acts as a perfect ending to the album. The rest of the tracks have a similar beat - which it might have done some good to vary a little - but when you've got the likes of 'Peter Pan' and 'End It Tonight' with an addictive beat that has already invited remixes from We Have Band and The Horrors, you're still going to enjoy having a listen. Generally a really promising album, but I reckon they're better live...

'Peter Pan' The Horrors Remix here

Just a Quiet One In a Brighton Pub...

2010-05-22T15:33:00.000-07:00

...Or perhaps a very loud one instead. The pub? The Pav Tav, Brighton. The loudness? An Alcopop! and BSM records free showcase as part of Brighton's immense Great Escape festival. This was my first face to face introduction to some of the great Big Scary Monster's family, which began with a brief meeting with 'The Daddy' of the family, Kevin Douche. This was down to the fact that my great journalisty friend had managed to secure an interview with him, and was kind enough to invite me to go and have a listen and a chat. What I learned was a brief history of BSM, which began with a 17 year old Kevin Douche deciding that saying 'Hey, I've got a record label' sounded pretty cool, so he started saying it, and only worked out what was involved when people believed him. Good job they did really, as now he has signed several fast rising bands from around the country, and is even spreading stateside with BSM USA - the label really is becoming a big, scary monster. It is important to note, though, that it is still very much a DIY, one man show - CD sleeves are printed and glued by hand, hundreds of emails are slogged through for hours - it isn't always a glamorous job. For the bands too, they have to juggle practice and touring with jobs, and sometimes university. After the showcase I witnessed, I think it should be said - thanks for the effort guys!

First on, around 4 in the afternoon, the first of the Alcopop! bands took to the 'stage', which was basically a cornered off bit of pub floor. Elephants gave a really confident opener taking a shine to one particular member of the audience, when front man Owen mused how 'there aren't enough Simons...' Perhaps not the next big philosophical brain, but we'll forgive him that much as the band continued to rock through their very catchy song collection. Stagecoach followed, they didn't have the easiest set as the pub's fire alarm tried to steal the limelight, but despite that they seem to be the band everyone's talking about since, with Radio 1's Huw Stephens tweeting 'Stagecoach was ace' - pretty good praise from someone who knows his music! I tend to agree, and especially liked the end-of-set-madness when various band members decided to ditch the stage in favour of climbing around on the bar - rock 'n' roll!

After a break for a couple of hours, it was BSM's turn, churning out the musical delights, getting progressively louder, with the sensitive acoustic set from Shoes&Socks Off, a beardy display from Men, crazy-guitar-weilding-with-some-unsuccessful-crowd-surfing from Hold Your Horse Is, an ear-drum testing set from Grown Ups, finally finishing off the evening with young Talons. After seeing the great set from the latter band, I couldn't help but wonder if, when sending their sons off to violin music lessons, their parents ever envisaged their sons would end up using their skills to produce killer post rock tunes?

I left the pub in a happy daze, which I'm sure wasn't just down to vodka, safe in the knowledge that I had just tapped a great new source of music, and excited to get my ears on some more. Every band played to such a high standard, and when they had finished they got right back to the front row to cheer on and heckle their musical peers. I have a feeling that in a short while, getting to the front at these guys' gigs won't be such an easy feat.

To read the full interview, and tonnes more reviews, take a look: http://snapshotsandsnippets.com/
To check out Big Scary Monsters; blog, music, merch: http://www.bsmrocks.com/
For some Alcopop! love go here: http://www.ilovealcopop.co.uk/

The Mekong Delta

2010-05-12T10:26:00.000-07:00

This part of the trip was the great unknown, and the part that I had been most anxious about. No more easy tour buses, no more catering for tourists wherever you go, no more assurance that most people you need to speak to will know English...We were going to 'Old School' Vietnam. And in my imagination I had convinced myself that this would consist of staying in some kind of mud hut and that I would intensely dislike the experience. I was wrong on both counts, and looking back, probably wouldn't have minded staying in a mud hut, might be fun! It turned out that the two weeks we spent travelling across the Mekong created more challenges, more stories, and more bizarre, funny, and breathtaking memories than what we found down the usual tourist route. So I'm glad I was (sort of) forced into it.

The initial challenge was how to get from HCMC to the delta - it's not far away, but it seems to be that the only way to get there is either by booking on an (expensive) organised tour, or by braving the local buses. Again, against my over-active imagination's judgement (which told me we would get lost and robbed and left in the middle of nowhere) we went for the local buses. This was pretty hilarious. Bar a couple of other stragglers, we were often the only westerners to be seen, looking very obviously lost, lugging our big rucksacks around, not knowing where to go or what bus we should be on. Most of the time we got laughed at by the locals, and after ineffectually trying to pronounce where we wanted to go, got bundled into a bus - tightly squeezed in amongst locals, bags of melons, building materials, and at one point a live goose - and usually found ourselves in vaguely the right place. If this wasn't quite the case, the only way to get a bit closer to the right town was by motorbike - I neglected to tell my mum this until I got back as she'd have a fit - but it was fantastic, though a bit difficult to balance when you're still wearing the rucksack!

Our route across the delta went from east to west, keeping in the northern half. From My Tho on the edge of the delta, we carried on to Ben Tre, Tra Vinh, Vinh Long, Can Tho, Chau Doc, Ha Tien, and finally we got a ferry across to Phu Quoc Island, back to tourist-land. I think, without a doubt, my highlights of this time were the boat tours we went on. The first was in My Tho, and could have been very hit-or-miss - we were approached by a guy whilst having a look around the small town. A lot of people try to speak to you, often trying to sell something, and more often than not we would just say no thank you and carry on walking. This guy was different, he was very laid back and firstly just offered to show us to a nearby cafe that was open as we were a bit desperate to find some food. He stayed to chat for a while and mentioned that he takes people on tours on his friend's boat, away from the tourist crowds, and early in the morning before it gets too hot. He said if we wanted to go we could meet him at the cafe at 5.30 the next morning and didn't have to pay until we had been on the tour - for someone to be so confident, and without putting any pressure on payment, was out of the ordinary, so we thought we'd give it a go. I'm so glad we did.

We left the hotel at 5am, with the poor guy at reception snoozing on a make-shift bed behind the desk, and walked to the cafe. It was still dark out, but already the streets were stirring; people opening up their shops, out on runs, on their way to work, we even saw a small group of women in the middle of an aerobics class. Our guy was waiting for us with a pot of Vietnamese coffee ready to wake us up - I'm not a huge coffee fan, but this was delicious, about the size of an espresso shot, but smooth and mixed with some form of chocolate, it definitely did the trick. We then followed on down to a rickety little wooden boat, with the driver already waiting, and set off into the morning darkness on the river. It didn't stay dark for long, just as we reached the middle of the large expanse of water, we stopped and watched the sun rise over the horizon. I'm not really eloquent enough to describe it, but I think at this point, more than any other, I sat thinking how lucky I was to be there, and how glad I was that I had said 'Sod it, why not' and left the cosy cushion of employment to go on the trip.

The advantages of going on an independent trip, rather than a tour by a large company - even though it may not be fully legal (I didn't ask!), is that your tour guide is likely to know people at the places you visit, knows where to get the best deals for any food and drink you might like during the day, can answer any questions you happen to think of as there isn't a large group to look after, and means you can totally go at your own pace. We saw the larger boats with big groups of tourists trudging around and I just don't think they got the same experience - a one to one tour is so much more personal. And I got made some jewellery weaved from a banana tree leaf, which I'm sure the others didn't get - and it was definitely a highlight!

The other great thing about the Mekong Delta region was how friendly the people were - although English was not as widely spoken, you are always greeted with a smile - and by the children, this is elevated into genuine excitement. Any children we walked past waved and shouted hello, and giggled when we replied. We were briefly shown a school by one of the locals, and all of the children came rushing to the window saying hello and trying to shake my hand - it completely disrupted the lesson, but was lovely and made me feel like a film star!

It struck me on leaving this amazing country, that although people didn't tend to have the luxuries that are considered common-place here, and they had to work so hard and such long hours just to scrape a living, life seemed simpler and they were happy. When you don't have to worry about getting the latest gadget, or this season's must-have item of clothing because it's not even an option, you can get on with, well, life.

I guess in future if someone asks me what the point of going to Vietnam was, and if I benefitted from it at all, I should just point them to this blog, because it seems there's quite a lot.

Ho Chi Minh City

2010-05-11T11:54:00.000-07:00

It had been a long journey south, but we made it to the end of our open tour bus journey, arriving in the much-famed, huge, chaotic city, once known as Saigon. I thought it was a total faux-pas to still refer to it as such, but most people - including locals - still refer to the city as Saigon, maybe out of habit, maybe because it's less of a mouthful, I don't know. What was also instantly clear about this city was that it seemed so much more like a capital than Hanoi - it's size, the Reunification Palace, the wealth of high-end shops, everything. Hanoi has some catching up to do, there just aren't the hints of decadence in the north. HCMC has a great little 'tourist pocket', if you will, full of budget hotels, bars, souvenir shops, and a LOT of people roaming the streets trying to sell photocopied books, sunglasses and other cheap trinkets. It gets a little frustrating when you have several people approach you whilst you're trying to eat your dinner, but they are always friendly and I instantly felt bad watching them wander off in search of anyone who might pay a few pence for their wares.

We went on a walking tour of the city, which was rather challenging in the intense humidity, but definitely worth it. Having a look around the Fine Art Museum and the Museum of Ho Chi Minh City was interesting, as the war with America is such a huge focus, but also highlights how far Vietnam has come since then, being able to build up such a beautiful, clean city that is increasingly growing in popularity. This line of thought was compounded after a day trip to the famous Cu Chi Tunnels.

We had yet another amazing tour guide, 'Slim Jim', and he knew more cockney-rhyming slang than me! He alone had quite a fascinating story; he was an English teacher for twenty years in a small town in the Mekong Delta region, and had backed the South in the war. Later, he became a tour guide and has greatly improved his English, and wants to go back and teach again in another few years. No hint at retiring; the hard-work ethic is in the Vietnamese blood.

Slim Jim showed us this massive tunnel site, a couple of hours drive away from the city. The tunnels were barely big enough for the tiny-framed Vietnamese soldiers, and the ones that we got to go in had been made twice the size, 'for all the fat Westerners'. It was only a 100 metre stretch, and I'm annoyed at myself that I was only 5m from the end was claustrophobia made me escape from one of the early exits - if I'd realised how close I was, I think I could have made it! It goes to show how tough conditions were though. I found it a little odd how Slim Jim had chosen a job to tell everyone about the amazing feats of the VietCong when he had been opposed to them during the war, but there was no bitterness that his wishes hadn't been realised. In fact, no matter what 'side' anyone we spoke to had been on, there seemed to be no ill-feeling amongst the Vietnamese - any ill feeling was reserved for the Americans. I'm not saying I agree with Communism, but, for now, it seems to be working for the Vietnamese.

Da Lat

2010-05-07T16:00:00.000-07:00

One word to sum up Da Lat - weird. I wasn't really sure what to make of it, not in a completely bad way, but more of a bemused way. The travel guides didn't paint an altogether exciting picture, but our bus ticket meant that we had to go there - at least for a night - so we made the best of it and went on a bit of an exploration. Attraction-wise, one place stood out for me (perhaps because there aren't many to choose from), 'The Crazy House'. The name kind of says it all. The construction is the brain-child of architect Ms Dang Viet Nga, and it's just bizarre; steps made to look like tree-stumps, and several themed hotel rooms including 'The Termite Room', 'The Bear Room', 'The Tiger Room', and a slightly terrifying 'Kangaroo Room' with glowing red eyes. I can't say I would want to stay in any of them, but it was fun to indulge in the eccentricity for a couple of hours.

We found on the map a massive lake just outside the main town area, and thought it would be a nice place to have a walk around on the way to some flower gardens (God, I sound like my mum), only to find that - just as in Hanoi - it had been filled in! Couldn't believe it, especially as the scenic lake-side restaurant was still open for business!

Unlike most other places we'd been to, Da Lat was set apart due to the fact that it is particularly hilly, making a five minute walk a bit of a workout, but in general - it is just a 'normal' town. The one event that injected a bit of excitement to our short visit came just as we were waiting to leave. Around 7.30 in the morning, waiting in the doorway of the hotel, peering bleary-eyed down the road, I almost failed to notice the fact that a Vietnamese man was walking down towards me. Oh, did I mention that he was totally naked, apart from sandals and some kind of walking stick? No? Well, he was, flopping around and everything. No one seemed overly phased, or did anything, so I thought maybe it was a normal occurrence, and he wandered further down the street until he was out of sight. But then there was a lot of beeping, and traffic started to back up down the road. The last I saw of Mr Naked Man, was him being bundled into a police van, having had his arms and legs tied together. It was pretty brutal. So, advice - when in Vietnam, don't go for any naked walks. You can probably apply that to most countries, in fact.

Nha Trang

2010-05-06T13:12:00.000-07:00

I was so excited to get here - firstly because we had to endure another night bus journey, and secondly because it was hot and had a BEACH! And what a beach it is - six miles of gorgeous fine sand and glittering sea, most of which we walked across - surprisingly hard work! The main part of Nha Trang town itself doesn't have all that much to shout about, it is just a normal town. The Western hub of Nha Trang is concentrated just outside, where there are cheap hotels and guesthouses galore, restaurants, and bars...lots of bars...with cocktail buckets! There are also a lot of diving centres - you can probably get a dirt cheap deal, but you have to question what you're paying for as quite often, just because 'PADI' is advertised, it doesn't mean that's what you'll get.

As a non-diver myself I didn't really know what to look for, but luckily my travelling pal is very up on that sort of thing, so we went for a chat at the Rainbow Diver bar - the longest established diving company in Vietnam that is British-run. They don't have the cheapest prices in town, but they are safe, and - from what I experienced - very professional. To start off with, I went for a 'Try Dive', just to see what it was like. This involved getting to the bar for 7am, ready for a minibus to take everyone to the boat, which then took us to a dive site. All morning I was so scared, convinced that I would manage to drown, that I barely spoke, which was enjoyed a little too much for my liking. Luckily, though, I didn't drown, and I actually quite enjoyed the experience. For a Try Dive, basically all you have to do is breathe and have a look around, as an instructor does everything for you, and even holds you and swims you around underwater. So I decided, to hell with it, I'll do my Open Water PADI - where a bit more is involved! I can't recommend it enough though, it's the most amazing feeling floating around on your own, like flying. And Nha Trang offers some great dive sites, full of coral, clownfish, baby barracudas, and tiny little nudibranches that the instructors somehow manage to spot.

Learning to dive took up the majority of the time spent in Nha Trang, meaning we unfortunately missed out a visit to the Thap Ba Hot Springs, which offer a range of spa treatments, including a mud bath that I have been told is very good, and cheap! Maybe next time...

Hoi An

2010-05-06T12:41:00.000-07:00

To continue harking back to Top Gear, this is the place where the trio of presenters bought their crazy tailored suits, and that is because this town is the tailoring capital of Vietnam. It is very much geared towards tourists; there are streets full of tailors, cafes, restaurants, and markets, with a noticeably high ratio of Westerners wandering around. It's a wonderful place though. What first struck me was the brightly coloured lanterns strung across the streets, which when coupled with the vibrant clothes stalls, the hustle and bustle of the market, and the scenic estuary of the Thu Bon river makes the place quaint and pretty.

I was all up for buying a whole rucksack full of new clothes, but due to the guaranteed tourist market, and the fierce competition, prices aren't dirt cheap - don't get me wrong, cheaper and better quality than what you would get here, but not cheap enough when you're on a shoestring budget! So, I settled for a pair of linen trousers. I have never had anything made to measure in my life, so was a little taken aback by the process - before the words 'I'd like that style please' had managed to escape my mouth, one of the women had whipped my T-shirt up into a knot, and started measuring my waist, hips and legs, while another woman was trying to sell me a deal so that I might buy another pair. I resisted! So, I left the little shop, and merely three hours later I was back to pick up my new trousers. They're a really good fit, and, well, they haven't come apart yet!

Enough about clothes, Hoi An has a lot more to offer besides miles of material. The town sells an ingenious tourist ticket, and for 90, 000 VND (about £4) you can choose five attractions to see - museums, temples, pagodas...it's a great deal! One thing on the list caught our attention; 'The Museum of Trading Ceramics', I joked that it was a definite yes, but then curiosity to see if it could really be as boring as it sounds got the better of us, so we went and had a look. The bits of broken pots in the museum confirmed that it actually is as boring as it sounds! Oh well.

As well as everything within Hoi An, there are some interesting places to visit nearby. We went on a trip to the ancient Cham temple ruins of 'My Son'. Again, a lot of these have been bombed and destroyed, and - oddly - none of the statues have heads because the French cut them off to take back to their museums, but there is still a lot to see, and there is a lot of reconstruction under way too. So, what's the big deal about My Son? I wondered the same thing, but our enthusiastic tour guide definitely swayed me into believing that the answer is 'A lot!' Not only are the ruins believed to be even older than Cambodia's Angkor Wat, but they are also surrounded by a bit of mystery. Looking at the construction of the temples, no cement has been used to secure the bricks together, instead they are also fused, and completely unaffected by weathering. In fact, we were shown walls that were reconstructed about twenty years ago, and they were covered in moss and looking in a sorry state, whereas the original walls that had been there for thousands of years looked almost new. No one, not international experts, not those whose ancestors helped build the temples, knows how it was done. Pretty cool, huh?

Hue

2010-05-06T11:59:00.000-07:00

After walking the empty streets of Hanoi in the aftermath of Tet, we eventually moved south to the small town of Hue via an overnight tour bus, with an estimated journey time of 12 hours. We tried to make this seem less horrific, convincing ourselves that we would sleep through most of it and be there before we knew it. This was not the case. The night bus consisted of 3 rows of 'bunkbeds', which didn't even have enough leg-room for me - and I don't even have a problem with leg-room on EasyJet flights! This was combined with the fact that it is impossible for the bus drivers to avoid the numerous potholes in the dodgy roads, and I had an extra special uncomfy factor... When you initially get aboard the bus, you are given a plastic bag to put your shoes into. Fine. I had watched several other people use the tiny toilet on the bus, I don't recall them putting their shoes back on, or any horrified faces when they re-emerged, so I thought it was safe. My soaked socks when I came out of the toilet suggested otherwise - and it wasn't even my wee they were covered in. Oh, and there was still another ten hours of the fun-filled journey to go. This was definitely a low point!

Urine-soaked socks aside, we arrived in Hue at 7am, determined to battle through the day despite a total sleep fail. Avoiding the crowd of taxi and motorbike drivers that surrounded the bus as soon as it stopped, we wandered to a hotel mentioned in the Lonely Planet guide - a cute little place at $5 each per night, sold! Then it was time for some culture, so we walked to The Citadel, a place famous for it's history, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and for being ravaged by bombs in the war. It was quite a walk from the backpacker area, but a really great place to wander around for the afternoon. As everywhere else in Vietnam, it was grand, spotless, and beautifully decorated, right down to the immaculate flower displays everywhere, apart from a few buildings which had been damaged beyond repair - one had pretty much been flattened by B52 bombs, which is a shame. When it was in use, the heavily guarded Citadel held the Forbidden City, home to the most important members of society; emperors and concubines, where any trespassers were sentenced to death.

Unfortunately, Hue's weather left a little to be desired - it was a little bit too much like England; chilly with a side of constant drizzly rain (the annoying fine stuff that isn't even proper rain), which unfortunately made us less than enthusiastic about renting bikes to go visit some pagodas a few kilometers from the town. So we were lazy and hung about in the backpacker area - it wasn't a total loss, we found some very cool places; Cafe On Thu Wheels, which was covered ceiling to floor in messages and doodles from former travellers that had passed through. And it did an amazing hot chocolate. Then there was Missy Roo cafe, where we went for breakfast (we were only there for three mornings, but that warranted a place becoming our 'usual'), which had an added entertainment factor of westerners having booked a cooking experience, and watching them attempt to cook with chopsticks was always fun! Lastly, we came across The DMZ Bar, we were only going to go in there for a beer on the way back to the hotel, but ended up staying for long enough that getting up for the bus the next morning was a real struggle! This was due to the reasoning "We'll just see what the next song is, and if it's rubbish then we'll go", but it just didn't happen - the place was full of amazing rock and hip hop tunes from my teens, and the cheap Hanoi beers just kept coming. Awesome.

Hue; it's not the most exciting place on the usual tourist travel-plan, but it is a real town where you can see how 'normal' people live, there are some great places to check out, and it is an important part of Vietnamese culture. If you're only there for a couple of days, it's definitely worth a look.

Halong Bay

2010-04-21T13:47:00.000-07:00

This was the place that the Top Gear Vietnam Special really sold to me - if you haven't seen it, Clarkson & Co. had to ride motorbikes from Ho Chi Minh City up the length of the country, finishing in Halong Bay (after turning their motorbikes into boats, of course). The shots of this place were just amazing; a maze of huge limestone rocks jutting out of a turquoise sea, it looked magical, and so was instantly placed on the 'to-do' list.

We were persuaded by a lady in our hotel to book a tour through them so that we could leave the bulk of our luggage in our room, which was definitely worth doing. To her disappointment, we declined the luxury tour, and went for the standard three day option - I really can't imagine the luxury option could have been much better as our tour was fantastic!

Halong City is roughly three hours drive from Hanoi, and there really isn't much there to see other than the huge tourist-infested harbour that houses about 600 junk boats and lots of Vietnamese tour guides trying to herd their groups around. It's much better once you're on the boat! As we were there mid February, we didn't see the place at high season, and therefore our boat was only half full, with ten of us in total. It was a mixed bag - we shared with a Danish family with two young children, a young French couple, a middle aged German guy and a young Swedish girl (both travelling alone). Despite being with a scattering of Europeans, we all sat and spoke in English - good for us, but also a little embarrassing that we couldn't even attempt to speak to anyone else in their native tongue. The English education system really should sort that one out.

It takes about an hour to get to the Halong Bay you might have seen; dramatic chunks of jagged rock randomly jutting out of a serene sea, making a maze for the junk boats and fishermen. They slowly appear out of the sea mist and are just mesmerizing, and kind of eery. It's not a great description, but it's the best I can muster.

The first stop of the tour was at 'Surprise Cave' (pictured), which was amazing, the sheer size and elaborate shapes and patterns that have been ingrained into the rock. Our guide showed us several animal shapes in the rock - some were more lifelike than others! Outside the cave was a small floating village, I think it has probably only been there for as long as the tourists have been visiting, where we had the chance to do some kayaking, making sure to avoid the boats and massive rocks of course! It would have gone smoothly had my kayaking partner not been paddling against me any time I tried to steer us anywhere. Hilarious, I'm sure.

The next morning was my favourite part of the trip. It wasn't waking up at 6.30am, it wasn't the cold shower, it was opening up the cabin door to the scenery I had forgotten was outside; sunshine, miles of deep blue sea, and the imposing, grassy rockface that was stood staring at me. "Oh yeah, that's where I am. Cool." The second day of the tour involved disembarking on a couple of the larger islands in the bay. We had the joy of renting some very old bikes, without any gears and questionable brakes, which made the steep hills quite interesting! Once we got to the village in the middle of the island though, it was definitely worth it. There were very few people living there, all in simple houses and huts, where they grew rice and bred chickens and pigs, but yet they had mobile phones and one little boy I spotted was wearing a football T-shirt with a big bling necklace! The scenery was stunning, lush and green, with dramatic hills that looked like they were from the set of Jurassic Park. The second island, Cat Ba, was quite large and built up, and would be our home for the night. It looked as though it had been built for tourists - lots of multi storey hotels, restaurants and bars - one of which suddenly started blaring out the all-time classic Who Let The Dogs Out?, brilliant. As it wasn't high season, the place was almost like a ghost town, but I kind of liked it that way - there's nothing like being the only person on a beach.

It was a truly astounding place, and remained one of my favourite parts of the two month trip, despite being right at the beginning. We left the majestic calm to return to the hustle and bustle of Hanoi.

Tet - Happy New Year!

2010-04-14T02:45:00.000-07:00

It's the most important event in the Vietnamese calendar, on the same day as Chinese New Year, Tet is the celebration of a new Lunar year. We were pretty naive, turning up in Hanoi as the locals finalised their plans and preparations, as to how big a deal it was - in England you go out, get drunk, spend New Year's Day hungover, and then go back to work. In Vietnam, you go back home to be with your family, get drunk (but in a respectful and orderly manner), and spend time with your family for at least the next few days. As a foreigner this means that the buses and trains are fully booked and more expensive than usual, and many shops and restaurants are closed, and tours are off. So, while some things were made off limits, I think we managed to get some different added extras.

The best of these was the New Year celebrations themselves. A very friendly woman working in our hotel informed us that the best place to go in the city was Hoan Kiem Lake, so we headed there around 10pm to get a good spot to sit down. Of course, we then had two hours to wait until the excitement of midnight and fireworks, so we had to fill the time with naming an A to Z of bands and films, and people watching. The latter activity was particularly interesting, as the youth of Hanoi - which seems to hide somewhere during the day - was out in force, clutching at little bags of popcorn, and tottering on ridiculously high heels. Not so different from what you'd find at home, except that there was no swigging alcohol, no violent pushing, no shouting. Evidently, you don't get Vietnamese chavs.

The fireworks themselves were distinctly average compared to what you can see at New Year in London, but it was the reactions of everyone around us that made it special - genuine awe and excitement, with 'Oohs' and 'Aahs' and everything!

Walking back to the hotel, everyone seemed to be on a high, and - somewhat oddly - Abba's Happy New Year was blasting out from shops and restaurants as we walked back to the hotel. But there was still no escape, the damn song was on repeat in the hotel lobby, where we were obliged to stay for a little 'party' we had just walked in on. This consisted of the guys working in the hotel (who, by this point, were both rather drunk, which was funny) forcing cans of beer, glasses of whisky, and trays of fruit on a slightly uncomfortable group of their guests, and every so often going into long stories about what the Vietnamese do on New Year - which, in fairness, was quite interesting. I'm not sure whether many hotel workers in England would provide an array of food and drink for their guests on New Year just so that they can involve them in their celebrations. The whole evening was a great experience.

Hanoi

2010-04-12T09:09:00.000-07:00

After a very long journey, we arrived tired and bewildered into Noi Bai airport and were instantly approached by a young Vietnamese guy who spoke very good English - he supported Chelsea (English football is huge out there), his favourite player was John Terry, he liked Cheryl Cole and Britney Spears, oh, and a friend of his had a taxi and could give us a lift to our hotel. It sounded like a great offer. We weren't to know then, having just arrived and in an inferior state of awareness, but all the signs of a con were there - it wasn't a metered taxi, and they kept telling me that I was 'very beautiful' - firstly, after so many hours of travelling, this was never going to be the case, but it is a very good indicator of when you are being ripped off! So, these 'helpful' guys dropped us off at an ATM and instructed how much we should take out - you cannot get Vietnamese Dong (VND) outside Vietnam, so unfortunately we weren't aware of what the exchange rate was. Basically, what should have been a $30 taxi ride cost us nearer $200. Not the best start to a budget trip, but you live and learn. Where some countries are known for violence, Vietnam's biggest problem is its' con artists, so chances are we were going to experience one at some point. It's not what you want as soon as you get there, though.

After an initial minor setback, we weren't put off by the city. It was actually pretty charming, if completely disorientating. The streets are manic, filled with people, stalls - food, souvenirs...anything!, but mostly mopeds and motorbikes. They're everywhere. They fill the roads - to try and cross you have to hold your breath, walk, and hope that you're avoided, and if the roads get too busy, well, people take to the pavements, honking at you for being in the way. In the middle of this chaos, is Hoan Kiem Lake, a centre of calm. There are pavements surrounding it where people quietly sit, or the more energetic exercise. The multicoloured lanterns and extravagant flower displays were added extras that had been put up in preparation for the Tet celebration (Vietnamese New Year) that was coming up that weekend.

We went on the city's walking tour, as outlined in the Lonely Planet guide, which gave a really interesting overview as it took us through a cross-section of the Old Quarter, the city's temples, and traditional markets. One market in particular sticks in my memory - it was busy, so you had to walk through it very slowly, which was fine when the stalls were selling fruit, vegetables, or household goods. But then there was the pretty extensive meat section, which tested my gag reflex. Piles and piles of raw meat surrounds you, that had presumably had been sat out until early that morning, as well as a big bag of live toads, chicken feet, goose head and necks, and probably a host of other delights that I missed as I covered my nose and mouth and focused on nothing more than getting away from the smell.

There is a wealth of cultural buildings, museums, temples and pagodas dotted in the centre of the city and all around it. I don't think we did a bad job of taking in the culture. Our first stop was the Temple of Literature, a complex dedicated to early Vietnamese scholars and their teachers, which had been celebrated with a collection of ornate shrines and large stone plaques with tortoises at the bottom. Every shrine is looked after with such care, there is always burning incense, fresh flowers, food - usually fruit, and the whole temple is spotlessly clean. In fact, Vietnam in general is a very clean place, there is no litter, and it is not uncommon to see women sweeping the streets near their shop or stall just to clear the dust.

As for the famous Ho Chi Minh complex, which contains the mausoleum, the museum, Ho Chi Minh's house and stilt house, and botanical gardens...our visit was a little unsuccessful. Granted, it was our own fault for not reading the guide properly, and failing to notice that it was closed between 12 and 2, so turning up at 1 wasn't great, but, it wasn't our fault that Ho Chi Minh was not in his mausoleum...apparently every so often he gets sent to Russia to be cleaned. It's kind of morbid, but it makes sense that a corpse needs cleaning once in a while. Eurgh. On a brighter note, if you go at the right time of day, when Ho Chi Minh is in town, the complex is beautifully maintained and well worth seeing. We did manage to have a nose around the stilt house, which was interesting, but the leafy grounds surrounding it are much more striking, not to mention the pond teaming with excitable carp!

Vietnam

2010-04-10T10:46:00.000-07:00

As I have mentioned, I have recently been away on a trip to Vietnam - an idea born on a dark, wintery British night when I imagine a lot of people are tempted to try and escape the cold and cloud. I received a text from a friend asking 'Have you ever thought about going travelling? Maybe to Asia?' Well, of course I have! I didn't think anything would actually come of this casual question, but pondering and planning began, and eventually a trip was born - albeit a very disorganised one...flights were only booked a couple of weeks before we wanted to leave, and we pretty much made up our route as we went along, but it's all part of the fun.

Initially the plan was to do a grand tour of the whole of South East Asia, something the majority of fellow travellers we met seemed to be doing, but with time and money constraints we realised we wouldn't be able to see any country 'properly', rather a skimmed snapshot version. It was then a toss-up between Thailand and Vietnam, as these two countries seemed to have a lot to offer, but are so different. A pros and cons list was needed to make the ultimate decision; Thailand was well suited to first time travellers, has a great party scene, amazing scenery, ladyboys to study...but then Vietnam has so much history and culture (which I knew virtually nothing about), and it looked amazing on the Top Gear Vietnam Special, and their currency is 'Dong', which is always funny..."I have a pocket full of Dong", "Get your hands off my Dong" etc etc. It eventually came down to a coin toss to choose where to go, and as I was about to reveal whether our fate was heads or tails, we both realised that we didn't want to look, as it might mean that we couldn't go to Vietnam...problem solved!

While I was away, I conscientiously kept a diary of everything we got up to - where we went, what we saw, what we ate - so that I could jog my own memory, and so that I could have something to write about when I got back. Since I've been home though, I have to admit that I've found even just talking to friends and family about the trip a little difficult...someone asks "So, how was Vietnam?", and I answer "It was amazing," but as for further elaboration, well, I just don't know where to start.

The Vietnamese have a saying, which unfortunately has been immortalized on to tourist T-shirts, 'Same Same, But Different', and that pretty much sums up their culture in relation to ours. I was fortunate enough to travel the length of the country, as well as across the Mekong Delta, where there was a lot of differences in both the landscape and the people, and I think the only way to try and describe this country and culture to someone is to take it in little steps. So I'll start at the beginning; the Vietnamese capital, Hanoi.

Apollo 101

2010-04-05T06:38:00.000-07:00

I first came across this Norwich based band a couple of months ago when I had the pleasure of reviewing their single One More Chance. Now the boys have a whole, brand spanking new EP, Here And Now, and I once again get to have a listen and impart my humble opinion! Not a bad swap...

For those who haven't yet heard of them, Apollo 101 are comprised of brothers Chris and Andy Walker and Josh Rayman, whose major influences come from the likes of Feeder, Muse, and a collection of gems from the '80s - all of which can be traced in their uber catchy songs packed full of synthesizers. On their newest EP are tracks Here And Now, One More Chance, and Push, as well as a couple of acoustic and remix versions chucked in for good measure.

Each song is quite different; Here And Now is infectious, the kind of song you could see in an '80s movie that has the 'crazy kid' jumping around their room, One More Chance laments a lost love to a catchy beat and a rocking bit of guitar, and Push has much stronger guitars, with an irresistible 'wo-oh-oh' you can't help but sing along to. The acoustic version of Push adds another level to the track as it is given a bit more heart. Fingers-crossed a studio album will follow next...keep cranking up the guitars guys!

Check out more from Apollo 101 here...

www.apollo101.co.uk

www.myspace.com/theapollo101

Every family has a weird Uncle...

2010-04-05T06:28:00.000-07:00

...But an Uncle Ugs? They're not so common. It's okay, I'm not about to give you a breakdown of my family tree, Uncle Ugs is in fact stage name for Surrey boy Alex Martin, a rising artist on the local music scene. Armed with little else than his voice and an acoustic guitar, 'Ugs' manages to produce music that sounds like it has had a whole army of people tuning and tweaking the sounds to get them just right. From the 'Halfway EP', you can download (for free!) Halfway, Curse The Day, and I'd Do, really great songs that combine a chilled out sound with some haunting vocals and lyrics that seem to have genuine feeling behind them - unfortunately a rarity in the manufactured pop age we live in. The Uncle Ugs sound is hard to pin down, think of some main stream Thom Yorke, mixed with a bit of Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly!, and the rest is just something extra!

Hopefully you're intrigued, to find out more information and have a listen to these songs and other material for yourself, check out:

http://www.uncleugs.com

http://www.myspace.com/uncleugs

Explaining my absence

2010-04-05T03:00:00.000-07:00

So, my last post is dated towards the end of January...and now it is April...to all who are hanging on my every word (!) I apologise, but I do have a pretty good excuse; I've been in Vietnam for the majority of this time. And I have lots of highly exciting posts backed up to feast your eyes on, so worry not!

Ok, ok, I'll get typing...

Up In The Air

2010-01-24T13:27:00.000-08:00

It was a series of mishaps that led to me seeing this film, I don't think I would have watched it otherwise. I had originally intended on seeing 'It's Complicated' with my Mum - she will only watch romcoms and feels 'cheated' if the story isn't neatly wrapped up in a happy ending, so a bit of Meryl Streep getting it on with her ex-husband seemed to fit the light-humoured bill. However, we arrived at the cinema a little late to find that a lot of other people had had the same idea and there weren't any seats left! Quickly scanning for any films that were starting soon I noticed 'Up In The Air' and vaguely remembered an advert featuring George Clooney on a plane. There isn't a mother-pleaser on Earth quite like George Clooney, so I figured he was a safe bet.

Expecting a run of the mill romantic comedy I settled comfortably into my seat for a couple of hours of perfectly nice, if predictable, viewing. But I didn't get it. In fact, when the credits finally rolled I actually felt a little sad and confused. Directed by Jason Reitman, who created the much loved 'Juno', there are quite a few quirky touches, as well as some great scenic shots and some comedy moments that ring true to real life. So what is it about? Well, George Clooney plays the part of Ryan Bingham - high flying corporate businessman? Sort of. Sure, he's got a lot of airmiles, not to mention an impressive collection of loyalty and reward cards for hotels and car hire companies, but the job that has fuelled this collection isn't exactly glamorous. Ryan Bingham works for a company that bosses hire to fire their employees, they try to put a positive spin on redundancy and persuade whichever unlucky soul they are talking to that everything they need to carry on can be found in a handy information pack. As everyone knows, Clooney's good looks and velvety smooth voice make him a perfect calming influence, but it is not the job that he loves, Ryan himself says it is when he is in the airport and on the plane that he is 'home'.

While jumping the queues with a loyalty card and flying business class has a certain amount of prestige and comfort, it's true, but even Clooney can't sell recycled air, plane food and living out of a bag as being a great way to live. The real aspect of his lifestyle that Ryan loves is the fact that being on the move means he makes no ties - to people or places. When your closest relationship is to an automated welcome message voice, you are untouchable. What would cause a person to want to live like this? That's a little hazy; the snapshots of disjointed family life show how Ryan has distanced himself from his two sisters (the elder of which is a rather angry, masculine creature) and hints suggest that the family dynamic has gone pear-shaped since the death of their parents. This is a really sad aspect of Ryan's life, which, by the end outweighs the positives of his seemingly carefree, comfortable existence.

Ryan's solitary way of life is shaken up, first by meeting Alex Goran (Vera Farmiga), a travelling businesswoman who claims to be 'the female version' of him; she's pretty, sexy, and the only person Ryan seems willing to keep in touch with. The biggest bombshell, however, is when Ryan's only constant - his work - decides to save money and keep its employees grounded so they can fire people via webcam. The great thinker behind this move is a young, uptight, business-minded if naive young woman, Natalie Keener (Anna Kendrick), who may as well be Ryan's opposite. She looks for spending cuts, the use of technology, and believes in love, marriage and settling down; everything Ryan is against. Through an ill-matched business pairing, the two manage to learn a lot from each other. That, and the fact that Natalie's dreamy view of love is shattered when she gets dumped via text message. Well, at least it wasn't Facebook!

The film is full of genuine laughs and sentiment, and shows the different ways modern life - technology, putting your job first, lack of family values - has on the traditional idea of romance. All of these make it very different from your average romcom. So too does the bittersweet taste you're left with when you leave the cinema. But, at least my mum didn't feel totally cheated by it.

Up In The Air - 3.5/5

A Belated Happy 2010...

2010-01-24T11:54:00.000-08:00

...Or an early Chinese New Year? Luckily blogging more wasn't my resolution or I would've already failed miserably. As for my actual New Year's resolution, well, okay I haven't done that either - my car is still a dusty mess littered with piles of car park tickets, leaves and CDs. Oh well. As I'm not intending to reach for a sponge or hoover any time soon, so here I am at my blog!

Over the Christmas break my dad, brother and I did our usual family bonding trip of sitting in a dark room not talking to each other; we went to the cinema. To see 'Avatar'. With 3D goggles and premier seats! (Dad was paying.) I would have had to have been living under a large rock for the past few months to have not heard about this mysterious film that was already being credited with 'forever changing cinema as we know it', featuring strange blue people with long hair. The trailers didn't give a lot away, and anyone I'd spoken to who had already seen it weren't really selling it to me. The truth is, telling someone about humans going to a different planet and then turning into blue aliens who can jump really high and have weird tentacles coming out of their hair doesn't make the majority of people rush to the cinema. But I do like a bit of sci-fi, and my brother claimed it had taken the number one spot of his all time favourite films, so was curious to give it a try. I took my brother's recommendation with a big pinch of salt though, as 'Borat' had previously been his epitome of cinematic brilliance.

James Cameron, who gave us the epic 'Titanic', which - love it or hate it - is always fun to re-enact whenever there's a cold day - 'Jack, Jack wake up! There's a boat!' Anyway, since making steamy car sex scenes, story has it he's been waiting for technology to catch up enough to do justice to this film. Now, they did the same thing for the first three 'Star Wars' films and I think everyone wished they hadn't bothered, but I don't think Cameron made the same mistake here. The special effects are incredible, the integration between what is real and what is CGI is practically seamless.

I sat in my marginally comfier-than-normal seat sporting the fetching 3D glasses (that I still think were way better when they were cardboard and you got one red eye and one green eye, but there you go!) and I have to agree that this movie gives you an experience quite unlike anything else. Making 3D viewing an option is in vogue right now, but this movie has really been made for that purpose - to immerse the audience in the enchanting world of planet Pandora. Us human scum have decided to invade this planet to mine and extricate precious minerals, waging a war against the indigenous people (Na'vi - they're the blue folks) for inconsiderately getting in the way. Very cleverly, a couple of these Na'vi have somehow been grown, as it were, as avatars for humans to psychologically link with them and live through them. Think along the lines of 'The Matrix' and you're on the right track.

Main man Jake Sully (Sam Worthington), a wheelchair bound war veteran unexpectedly finds himself with his very own avatar, and a mission to be accepted by the Na'vi to learn from them and find a way to stop them being a nuisance so the humans can steal all the minerals. Sounds easy enough. That is, until Jake finds being a Na'vi is actually pretty fantastic - and this is where the film comes into it's own. The detail, the beauty, the sheer vivid imagination that has born such a place is impressive - despite a few strange, scary monsters, it makes Earth look like a shit heap. And therefore humans like the parasitic, dirty flies. The Na'vi are gentle, dignified, and at one with their natural environment - they physically bond with their fellow creatures through strands coming out of their hair. Humans stomp through, not bothering to understand the environment, or care about the effects their actions might have. Combine this with the fact that Jake is normally so trapped and frustrated by his ill-working body and military procedures, and a rather hot lady Na'vi might just be interested in him - who would ever choose being human?

Conflict ensues, and the audience ends up hating their own species even more. For the British and American viewers, it's not really a time to be proud of your heritage, as invading and destruction has so often been the business of the day and it's just not pretty. Colonel Miles Quaritch seems to be a butcher, louder version of George Bush - with one speech, 'fighting terror with terror' sitting uncomfortably close to reality.

There's a lot that is good about this movie - it's different and stretches cinematic boundaries, Sam Worthington gives a great performance and provides some much needed moments of comic relief, and Pandora's luminous flowers and floating mountains are beautiful and breathtaking. But, contrary to what some reviews might say, it's not all good. Sigourney Weaver is basically re-hashing her Ripley role from 'Alien' - being all grumpy and masculine, and the story line itself is a little slow in parts and pretty predictable - just don't tell my brother, he's been to see it another four times since!

I think the good outweighs the bad though, and it's worth a watch even just to see what all the fuss is about.

Avatar - 4/5

Florence + The Machine - Brixton Academy

2009-12-22T03:49:00.000-08:00

I had been looking forward to this gig for months; ever since I received an email one day with a 'performer alert' for tickets going on sale the next morning, ever since I got up early and sat waiting for 9 o'clock to come so I could tick the 'buy' button, and ever since I managed to buy as many tickets as possible, not quite sure who was going to come with me.

A couple of months had gone by since then, and the night had finally come for a couple of friends and I to make the chilly journey to Brixton Academy, with my one spare ticket just in case I could find someone deserving to take it off my hands. Seeing the crowds of people, however, I realised the chances of finding a lone fan and making their dream of seeing Florence come true were quite slim, so I caved in and sold it to a smokey ticket tout for a tenner. Oh well.

So we wandered into the dramatic sloping room under the staircases of Brixton Academy, where, in between the grand castle and turreted effect either side of the stage one of the support acts 'Frankie and the Heartstrings' were playing animatedly. We had to sort out the essentials first though, and headed to the bar.

Unfortunately, by the time we'd got some beer, Frankie & co had finished their set, but we were just in time for the second act - who were a pleasant suprise for me - 'The Temper Trap'. I had been fairly obsessed with their single 'Sweet Disposition' all summer, so the surprise to see it live was a very welcome one. The Melbourne band played a set of about six songs, with their singles 'Fader' and 'Sweet Disposition' were definitely the highlights as a few of the other tracks seemed to get a little lost and the vocals were sometimes difficult to comprehend. I personally think it would have been worth leaving 'Sweet Disposition' until the end of the set, as it definitely energised the crowd and would have ended it on a high, rather than bringing the atmosphere back down with an unknown album track.

But, enough of the support, what I really went to see and want to talk about is Florence + the Machine; stage name for bright-haired young London girl Florence Welch. She emerged on to a stage that was littered with bird cages, had a background of birds and twigs that changed colour, in a shiny silver leotard (that was revealed later, much to the delight of the male audience members) with a full, fluffy skirt that looked to have been made out of lots of light pink feather boas. She looked sweet and ethereal, juxtaposing with the booming voice she let loose in the opening song 'My Boy Builds Coffins'. She continued on to perform most of the current album 'Lungs' as well as some lesser known tracks consisting of unreleased material and B-sides, which gave it all a bit of variety.

Florence was joined on stage by, as well as her normal band, a choir, string orchestra, and a harpist. They all gave a much richer sound and it was great to watch them play, and watch Flo skip around them. You could physically see where the money for your ticket had been spent; on these extra people, as well as a host of special effects. For 'Cosmic Love' the stage was transformed to reveal a moon and stars as a new backdrop, and when playing 'You've Got the Love' a mass of heart confetti erupted and poured over the audience (which, incidentally would have perhaps been better suited to the encore finale, as all that followed it seemed a bit surplus). It was spectacular. And this is all without mentioning much of the main woman herself. Florence is an innate performer, you can tell she loves every minute of it. She dresses for attention, she blasts your ears with her voice, she dramatically pauses and stares out into the crowd, she chats to us about how weird it is to see her name headlining at Brixton. On stage is where she is supposed to be, and she completely and deservedly owns it. Watching her is mesmorising, and as her songs take you on fantastical journeys you realise that you are watching someone who, at just 23, is really very, very good.

I left the venue, tripping over the odd plastic cup, on a real high. I thouroughly enjoyed every bit of the performance, Florence along would have put on a great show, but everything else mixed in made it even better.

Florence + the Machine - 5/5

Where The Wild Things Are

2009-12-08T03:08:00.000-08:00

Even just hearing the title of this film strikes a deep, nostalgic chord with thousands around the globe, who exclaim 'That was my favourite book when I was little!' I'm quite jealous, I never had it read to me, and have never read it myself, but it seems to have such a profound meaning to those that grew up with the story. In this way, I think the deeper childhood link that the film touches was lost on me, as I viewed the whole thing in a completely new light. But, at least I can be fairly detached on viewing the film alone in its own right. Hopefully.

From what I've gathered about the book, 'Where The Wild Things Are' by Maurice Sendack tells the story of Max, a young boy who has been misbehaving at home, running around in his wolf costume, and is sent to bed with no dinner. His imagination transforms his room into the land of the Wild Things; scary creatures that he conquers by becoming their king. Eventually, Max becomes homesick, and returns back to find his supper warm and waiting for him. It's no caterpillar eating stuff, but it sounds like the kind of thing I would've liked. Much deeper than just a book with strange creatures and flights of the imagination, the story won critical acclaim for its view on the physical representations of anger and fear that the Wild Things represent, and the fact that Max leaves them for the comfort of his home and parental love. However, despite the great reception the book received, it was banned from several countries for a while due to the fact it does not exemplify any particular morals or values, like children's books are 'supposed' to do. Max is a naughty child, he does not apologise for his behaviour, and instead of trying to sooth him and teach him the right way to behave, he is simply sent to bed without dinner.

The film carries on in a similar vein, Max is a horror of a boy at times; loud, aggressive, attention-seeking and inconsiderate. But it is an accurate representation of being a child. All children lack the self control and understanding of how to not be all of those things. Director, Spike Jonze, said himself, that his film is one about childhood; the state of flux between fearlessness and fear, where anything seems possible but at the same time everything is a threat.

Jonze has included more of a rounded backstory that triggers Max's trip to the land of the Wild Things, he is a lonely, often bored child - he has no father at home, his sister hangs around with older boys who bully him, and his mum is uptight about work, money, and a new man she is seeing (who came in the form of a slightly random cameo part by Mark Ruffalo!). Max craves attention, and devises a way to get it by dressing up in a wolf costume and climbing on the kitchen counters, much to his mother's horror as her bemused date looks on the chaos. Max's wild actions, particularly biting his mother's shoulder, make him run away, find a boat and sail off to an unknown land of Wild Things. Jonze said this was the one sticking point between he and Sendack, who wanted the film to show Max's room morphing into a jungle like in his book, this way, however, Max's anger and stubborness is physically represented as he actively takes himself away from home and safety.

Once Max has found the Wild Things, the wonders of CGI and elaborate costumes are revealed. Unlike many film makers, who may have made the Wild Things completely computer animated, Jonze wanted them to have a believable physicality, so that Max could touch and interact with them, and so that the element of danger under the surface is very real. You can see how their fur is dirty and matted, how their immense weight and size makes Max so vulnerable. The CGI facial expressions then works to bring the characters to life and exemplifies the various emotions that each Wild Thing represents; anger, rejection, frustration etc.

As a whole, the film definitely runs in peaks and troughs. This may be competely intentional to show how things are when you are a child - like the peak of Max's snowball fight and the trough of getting trapped in his igloo. The high points are wonderful, Max's unabashed happiness and freedom, especially when reinforced with the crazy soundtrack by Karen O of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, makes you want to get up from your seat and run along with him. There are some cinematically brilliant shots, too. But there are also some moments that are just sort of static and slow. And, while he is with the Wild Things, not a lot actually happens. Max does begin to appreciate the monsters and develop a level of empathy for those other than himself, which leads you to believe he may utilize this once he is back home and perhaps stop giving his mother such a hard time, but who knows.

This is certainly an impressive film, and despite my lack of childhood connection with the original story, I thoroughly enjoyed watching it. As for the new generation of children who may encounter the film before the book, I'm not really sure who it is aimed at - it is rather violent and menacing at times for small children, but then would older kids really want to watch big fluffy creatures? If it is in fact just a film about childhood, one would say it is then perhaps a bit of an indulgent film for adults to fuel their nostalgia. Either way, I'm sure the buzz surrounding this movie will continue now that it has been released.

Where The Wild Things Are - 3.5/5

A Weekend of Wild Things...

2009-12-07T02:41:00.000-08:00

It's been a long time since I've slumped to my desk on a Monday morning and felt like a lot has happened since I last dragged myself up from my generic swivelling chair on the Friday afternoon. Today, this is the case, and while my eyelids could do with a car jack to keep them open, it was worth it! So, my original plan for the weekend was to drive on over to Cardiff to visit a friend and go to see White Lies at the Cardiff Student Union, stay the weekend, and have a relatively nice, chilled out time. The first part of the trip went to plan, and White Lies were really rather good - but they belong to another blog post.

What was responsible for the disruption of my weekend? Well, me, really. But I'm going to blame the superpower that is Twitter. Basically, one of the people I follow are Little White Lies magazine (which, if anyone has any interest in films, they should most definitely give it a read) and I happened to see a tweet of theirs along the lines of 'keep sending us your best childhood cinema memory, they're great so far!' I thought this was just for general chit-chat, and was instantly reminded of when I went to see 'The Lion King' with my Dad, and finding it fairly hilarious that he cried when Mufasa died. So, I shared. The next day, to my great confusion, I saw I had been tweeted back with the news that 'Congratulations!' I had won! 'Won what?!' It turns out I had won two tickets to see a preview screening of the hotly anticipated 'Where The Wild Things Are' at the BFI Southbank cinema, with an exclusive Q&A session with the film's director, Spike Jonze. Wow! I was shocked, excited, confused and anxious all at the same time. While it was incredible to win something, and be given an opportunity that I would never usually get to do, how on earth could I go when I was supposed to be in Cardiff all weekend?!

................With a frigging long train ride!!

Yes, in order to not miss the Sunday plans in Cardiff, and to save a bit of time, I got the train from Cardiff to London and back again. To go to the cinema. And even then, we were so short on time that - in true classy style - we ate our dinner of M&S pasta on the tube under the watchful eyes of changing passengers, which was pleasant. Totally worth it though, even just for the fact that I could walk into the BFI, bypass the queue of people waiting for tickets, and tell people sitting at the desk that my name was on the guestlist. For about 3 minutes I felt important!

Entering the sloping cinema I immediately noticed something that would have made me beyond excited if I hadn't already bought it for myself, on every seat was a shiny copy of the current Little White Lies magazine, dedicated to 'Where The Wild Things Are'. I kept a second copy of it anyway, even just to remind me that in those three minutes of being important that I got something free, like important people do. So, settled in my slightly reclining seat (which was a little disconcerting as all the way through the movie I was convinced it was broken and that my head would end up the lap of some poor unsuspecting person behind me!) we were greeted by a BFI representative who informed us that the movie would play first, and Spike Jonze would come on stage shortly afterwards. Then the lights went down.

There is so much to say about the film that I will have to just post about that separately to stop this becoming a full on essay. I can say, though, that it was certainly unlike anything I have seen before, which is probably why it has caused such a stir. The audience clapped loudly when it had finished, and though I couldn't tell who were the journalists and critics and who weren't, it seems the film had been well received by the majority of people there. Events like this must be a little nerve-wracking for Jonze, as the film has been so long in the making, and he does not have many successful films under his belt, so his reputation and prospects for film making in the future really do hang in the balance of how well this movie is received.

For the question and answer session - something I have never witnessed before - Spike Jonze, a petite, mild mannered man, who speaks with hesitation verging on a stutter, entered the room and awkwardly took his seat, sitting on his hands for the majority of the time. With cameras, an audience, and an expectant microphone all looking intently at him, I didn't envy the guy. But, he slowly eased into it, and managed to maintain a level for enthusiasm for the film that had taken up years of his life, and the same questions he will undoubtedly have already answered continuously for the past few months. That is, all of the questions except one, 'What was your favourite sandwich to eat on set and how do you think that contributed to the film?' I'm not sure if this was pitched from some new, edgy food magazine, or just a random 'hilarious' question. Jonze handled it well, however, and for those that want to know, he preferred a ham and cheese sub with olive oil, and it contributed by making the film 'hammy'. How I did chuckle.

Despite all of the questions that were asked, I still cannot quite grasp how this slight, quiet man managed to make such a face-slapping film, full of the drama of childhood, with such particular and complex special effects to boot. Judging by what he says, when you have a circle of friends like Spike Jonze, you can do whatever you want - his friends are involved in nearly every aspect of this movie. I shall just have to wait for mine to get to the top of their fields so they can do stuff for me too!

As a further souvenir for my day, I managed to add a little scribble to my Little White Lies magazine. It reads 'To Danielle. Hello. Spike Jonze.'

Twilight - New Moon

2009-11-24T00:59:00.000-08:00

It's the film that's sent ripples across the globe, causing hysterical excitement in teenage girls at the prospect of seeing Robert Pattinson (or 'RPat' as he's now being called. Not the most inspiring nickname...) on the big screen again, and sarcastic guffaws from everyone who deems themselves far too sophisticated to be interested in the same things as teenage girls. I think I fit somewhere between the two. After the first 'Twilight' film, which I thought was okay but wasn't blown away by, I had been intrigued by the release of the sequel but not necessarily psyched for it. A number of my friends were very much looking forward to it, however, having read all of Stephanie Meyer's books, and so I found myself in a pre-booked cinema seat in a very very full screening.

So, for those who don't know, the 'Twilight Saga', as the series of books and films are officially called, follows the story of Bella (Kristen Stewart) - a 'normal' girl who falls in love with Edward (Robert Pattinson), a pale boy at school. Except he's not just 'a pale boy at school', he's a hundred-and-something-year-old vampire, who comes from a family of 'vegetarian' vampires that only eat animals. But they still really really want human blood, and think Bella is ever so tasty, which gets her into all kinds of scrapes.

'New Moon' begins at one of these scrapes - Edward's brother goes for Bella after she suffers a pretty severe paper cut. This is one scare too far for Edward's conscience, so he decides to leave her in order to protect her. Although his reasoning is blazingly obvious, Bella thinks he doesn't love her any more and spends (literally) months moping, not speaking to anyone, and having screaming nightmares. She sounds fun, huh? She also repeatedly sends emails to Edward's sister, Alice, even though they never get delivered. It's all a little bit bunny-boiler. To take her mind off of all this pining, Bella tries to distract herself from Edward with newly-buffed-up friend Jacob (Taylor Lautner), the other reason for the teenage girl frenzy (and I can't blame them, phwoar!) But he isn't all he seems either...

So is this a quality film? Well...I'm not sure it'll be winning any Oscars. The script is pretty wooden at times, and the 'intense' looks between Bella and Edward sometimes just end up suggesting that they could do with a bit more fibre in their diets, if you catch my drift. Bella is also incredibly irritating, this isn't down to the acting particularly, just the fact that she's an adrenaline-seeking idiot, as dangerous situations seem to trigger a vision of Edward. This is something that is never explained, which is rather annoying. But, despite a few problems, it is damn entertaining. You've got action, a bit of gore and horror, action, romance, and some rather hot people to look at. In the full cinema, every time a shirt was removed, a kiss nearly happened, and especially at a certain cliffhanger at the end, the whole audience screamed, clapped and cheered. They were loving it. Although it may not have had quite the same effect on me, this film is a big deal to a lot of young people, and as it promotes a lot of good values - accepting those who are 'different' etc - maybe some of the critics should give it a break.

Twilight New Moon - 3.5/5

Up

2009-11-16T07:15:00.000-08:00

Often I try to pretend to be a bit of a film geek, and so I first I heard about this latest release from Disney and Pixar some months ago when it was shown at Cannes Film Festival. Ever since the Cannes screening I have read review after review about how spectacular and moving this film was, 'the best Disney film in years' yada yada yada. Reviews like this are great for generating a positive buzz, and definitely persuaded me to (eventually) spend my fairly hard earned cash to go and see it - especially since there wasn't a huge amount in the way of advertising. Anyway, while the reviews are great for getting people into the cinema, they're not always so good once you're there. I had such high expectations - that I was going to be crying with sadness one minute and with laughter the next. I wanted big, unexpected, amazing things. I'm not sure what Disney could have done to fulfil this, but they just didn't quite reach the mark.

It's not that this is a bad film, far from it, as the reviews said, it did have moments that were actually quite harrowing, and parts which really did make me laugh, but it just was not up to the hype. One review, for instance, described the beginning of 'Up' as being sadder than Bambi's mother getting shot, Mufasa dying in the 'Lion King', and Dumbo's mother being locked up...what kind of horrendous carnage can really live up to that?! Nothing that would pass a PG rating, that's for sure. So, yes, it was sad, I felt sorry for the old cartoon man, but my tear ducts stayed dry.

Downfalls aside, there is a lot about 'Up' that is rather good. I only wish I had seen it in 3D, as that would have enhanced the experience even more. For a quick summary, we meet Carl and Ellie Fredrickson, how they meet as children, fall in love, grow up and grow old together. Sadly even a love like theirs cannot last forever, and so Carl is left old, alone, and in danger of losing his house and his independence. What does he do to overcome this? Well, what anyone would do, ties hundreds of helium balloons to his house so that it lifts off and so that he can take it to South America. Yes, you read that right. From a fairly realistic beginning you do have to utilize your imagination as the story takes several sharp fantastical turns; chocoholic birds, talking dogs, death-defying stunts by two OAPs...but it's fun, it's exciting, and gives hope to Carl's once bleak outlook, which would be a comfort to anyone that has lost someone close to them.

Highlights of the movie would have to be the stowaway boyscout, Russell, who is both annoying and adorable, and the talking dogs - any dog I have seen since this movie I can totally see speaking like the ones in the film!

It's a good family film, but don't expect it to be as life-changing as some of the critics might have you believe!

Up - 4/5

Nostalgic fm - Radio For The Unfulfilled?

2009-11-03T05:50:00.000-08:00

I have just been spending the spare minutes of my working day in between phone calls perusing the various news sites to find out what's going on in the world, and in between which celeb got fat this week and what new superfood will save us all, I came across a little story about a new radio station. Absolute Radio (formerly known as Virgin fm) are launching a new station, called Absolute 80s, which will be playing - yes you guessed it - music from that magical shellsuit-filled era of the 1980s. This station will be dedicated to the likes of Duran Duran, Prince,

Madonna...Chris deBurgh(?!) and expressly aimed at a group termed 'reluctant adults', society's 30-54 year olds, who want to regress back to memories of their youth that has been preserved in the cheesey music around at the time.

The chief operator of the Absolute Radio chain, Clive Dickens, said there is a gap in the market for this kind of station, that listeners of this age group 'have responsibilities, are members of families but still want to participate and have fun and be involved in music', and this radio station - which will have no DJs and be run on a dukebox type system - is the way to offer this.

There are a number of things that struck me about Dickens' statement. First of all, that those around the middle aged bracket with their responsibilities and families need something provided to them to enable them to 'have fun'. What a depressing prospect! Both that hitting middle age means you're going to be bored and unable to appreciate modern music, but also that the invention of a mere radio station will be able to solve such pining! At 22 I do already appreciate the memories that can be brought back through music, but to think that I will eternally crave for the music of my youth because it holds the only memories worth remembering...shall I just slit my wrists now?! Surely responsible adulthood holds some opportunity for fun? Surely 'the noughties' haven't brought that much disappointment?

Also, despite only being alive for 2 full years of the 80s, I and many of my friends would love to tune into such a retro radio station. True, it does not bring back many memories to speak of, but we would listen because we have been influenced by our parents' tastes, and - as with the slightly questionable return of shoulder-pads shows - because the 80s is very cool right now. It's a cheesey kitsch dream and allows for the most horrendous of dance moves. Dickens hasn't thought of this in his 30-54 year age range, either because us young 80s lovers are an unknown pocket of radio listeners, or because he wants to cover up his possible desperation. You see, the reason Absolute 80s has come to be is to fill in the gap left by Absolute Xtreme, which was dedicated to rock music but has been largely outdone by the other rock giants such as Xfm, NME Radio and Kerrang. So, are there really this large group of adults who are so disappointed with grown-updome that they wish to lose themselves in times gone by? Or is the Absolute group clutching at straws when there are so many other radio stations who have taken almost every niche going? I guess we'll have to wait and see.

I personally hope it is a success, then we can get a 90s radio station going when I too am middle aged and discontent...Spice Girls, 5ive, Backstreet Boys, N*Sync...

(Original story at www.guardian.co.uk)

What The Folk Is Going On?!

2009-10-19T03:59:00.000-07:00

Is it just me or is the hippy-folk constabulary starting to take over the world? There are fur gilets in the shops, people wear hairbands across their foreheads, and there are indie-folk bands emerging everywhere you look...Noah and the Whale, Fleet Foxes, Howie Beck, and one of the newer additions Mumford and Sons, whose new album 'Sigh No More' I impulsively bought a couple of days ago. Now, I used to think of folk music as being made by a lot of hairy people with tambourines. I suppose this can still be the case, but it's not always the benign pro-tree-hugging thing I thought it was. Sometimes these 'folk' folk get angry!

So, if I had such a limited knowledge of folk, why did I buy this album? Well, for one, the title track 'Sigh No More' was an i-Tunes record of the week last month, which is often a sign of something interesting as they tend to have a pretty good pick of new bands. This was coupled with my listening to Dave Berry's Xfm show where the band's first single 'Little Lion Man' was played every day as I drove home from work, and it kind of wormed its way into my head and wouldn't leave! I have to admit I wasn't crazy about the song the first couple of times I heard it, but now it cannot be on the radio without the volume being cranked up - because it's a very good song, and so that I can shout 'fuck' really loudly! I hoped that perhaps the rest of the album would provide as much fun, but before I decide on that, just who are Mumford and Sons? (I just know you were wondering the same thing...)

Mumford and Sons are a four-piece band from west London, comprised of Marcus Mumford (vocals, guitar, drums), Winston Marshall (vocals, banjo, dobro), Ben Lovett (vocals, keyboards, organ), and Ted Dwane (vocals, double bass). You see that? A banjo, dobro, organ and double bass! Amazing! All that's missing is maybe a xylophone and an accordian and they will have featured all of the coolest musical instruments. The variation makes for a much more original and richer sound than the standard drums, lead and bass guitar combo, particularly in the musical interludes which are surprisingly powerful - I never thought it would be possible to rock out to a banjo, but there you go. They formed late in 2007 and have supported acts like Laura Marling on tour, but after the acclaim they have received so far they are now touring Europe in their own right.

So, back to the album. I can sum up my reaction to it in one word - impressed. It's not folk as I knew it from my old hippie idea, or even from contemporaries around at the moment. It has the ability to shift from calm to uplifting, from a thigh-slapping hoe down to angered heartbreak. 'I Gave You All' is like folk music that's been made after someone has tried to steal the band's favourite tambourine. Or banjo. 'Sigh No More', in contrast, is very uplifting and life affirming. Mumford has an incredible voice, that is both powerful and raspy, but also capable of being soft and soothing, with some of the harmonies sounding as velvety as Fleet Foxes before launching into an auditory onslaught that is more like Kings of Leon. It is impossible to get bored when the tracks have such peaks and troughs like this, so while a few of the tracks start off quite slowly and you find yourself considering switching to the next one, it's so worth bearing with the build up as they are all superb once they get going.

All in all, then, I would congratulate Mumford and Sons with a very successful album, which I can honestly see joining my staple car CD collection - only the best ones make it there! And, from my previously less-than-enthusiastic view of folk music, there is no one more surprised than me that they have made it there. The next step is for me to don my fur gilet (well, I'll have to buy one first) and chunky-knit jumper and go see them do it live!

Mumford and Sons, 'Sigh No More' - 4.5/5

(500) Days of Summer

2009-09-17T07:23:00.000-07:00

So, I haven't done a review in a little while and thought it was about time for another! For reasons I can't quite explain, I was almost beyond excited to see this film. I suppose for one thing I am yet to see a bad review of it, and those I have read described it as a vibrant, touching little indie movie - my kind of film-nutshell! I was also attracted to the story's twist, when so much of Hollywood tells us that when you meet 'the one' you just know it instantly, you know they are the only person who can make you happy. So what happens when 'the one' doesn't actually feel the same way? What if someone's 'one' was the other person's casual relationship? This is the case with Tom and Summer, the girl who filled 500 of Tom's days.

The witty tone that runs throughout the film is there from the off, before you have even seen any characters or any credits. There is a disclaimer stating that the film's content is purely fictional and any similarity of characters or events is purely coincidental. Well that's fair enough, right? And then, 'Especially you Jenny Beckman. Bitch.' Ouch! With an outlook like that, and a warning from a God-like narrator that 'this is a story of boy meets girl, but it is not a love story', you start to get the idea that this is a bit different from the usual films frequented by Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts. Finally.

Now, after seeing the disclaimer and seeing the brief flashback of Tom and Summer's childhoods I was a little worried that this could be a totally bitter portrayal of one of the writer's failed relationships, changing Jenny Beckman-the-bitch's name to Summer and exorcising his demons. But it is kind of refreshing to see that, even though she breaks Tom's heart, it is not because Summer is a bitch; she was actually very upfront about what she did and did not want from the relationship. Whilst the majority of the film centres on Tom; his feelings, his point of view, his reaction after the break up, you still get to see enough of Summer's side of it so that you don't hate her. As in life, they both have their faults. In terms of gender roles and stereotypes this is a bit of a quirk on the general trend, and it is both refreshing and interesting to notice how 'normal' the film would be if the roles were reversed.

Another aspect setting the film apart from the rest is it's non-linear structure. I loved this. You see the excitement of Tom's first glimpses of Summer directly juxtaposed with the wreck she left him when their relationship ended. The things he loved become the things he hates. I have read that the structure is supposed to show how certain memories are triggered by small things, like a card, or a song, and how Tom constantly re-runs events with Summer to try and see where it all went wrong. The audience and Tom have to piece it all together until it makes sense, and this can only happen once Tom takes his little sister's advice - not to just look at the good memories, the bad ones are just as important.

Coupled with the non-linear structure are the film's occassional quirky effects and tangents, they all reinforce Tom's feelings and are appropriate to his character, but have been done in ways I had never really seen before. I won't give them all away, but there is a certain dance sequence following a certain event that had me literally crying with laughter! Another scene I think really captures something I imagine most of us are guilty of - having our expectations of a certain situation shattered so completely by what turns out to be the reality. Universal experiences like this are what make the film so relatable, and you just know that genuine feeling and real experiences have been poured into the script to be able to come up with it. In my opinion this is what so many films are lacking at the moment, if people made films because they really believed in them then the quality would be so much higher.

Now, I cannot write about this film any longer without mentioning the soundtrack that it has been widely commended for. Music features in the storyline itself as it is Tom and Summer's mutual liking for The Smiths that gives the first spark to their relationship, so their songs often crop up, as well as a mix of Wolfmother, Regina Spektor, Doves and Feist - to mention a few - and also, my 'song of the moment', The Temper Trap's 'Sweet Disposition', and the fact that it is in the film makes me love the film and the song even more!...But I do realise that's probably just me...

With the heavy influence of The Smiths, along with the characters' vintage indie dress sense, there is an interesting mix of old and new, giving a sense of nostalgia to a modern world. I liked this effect in 'Donnie Darko', and I suppose here it is presumably for the benefit of those who can still vaguely remember their first love, or 'the one that got away', and the clothes and music help to travel back and remember that time.

So, if you hadn't guessed it, I kinda liked this film! Zooey Deschanel and Joseph Gordon-Levitt fit the roles perfectly, there are great songs and quirks galore, and anyone can relate to it, the perfect film if you are happily in a couple, have just been dumped, or are still optimistically on the lookout for 'the one'. Just remember, it might not be who you think.

500 Days of Summer - 5/5

It's Not Exactly Shakespeare, but...

2009-09-08T06:13:00.001-07:00

...I've written a play, and it was performed to an audience! Well, by 'play' I mean a three minute sketch, and by performed to an audience I mean it was performed by those involved in a small company called 'Behind the Bike Sheds', an artistic collective who were looking for short sketches for their recent production, and I happened to have a few spare minutes in between phone calls at work and gave it a try! But, whatever, it had a script, there was a stage, so, it's a play!

Now, in case this is all sounding a bit random, I shall confuse you even more. The specifications for this sketch were that it had to be around three minutes long, and had to either have a chair as the main focus, or mention a chair at least three times. The performance's title was 'A Room Full of Chairs', and that was what all thirteen featured sketches were about. I had a look on the organisation's website, and in the past their shows have been about the word 'Crunch', 'One Flew Over the Looking Glass' and 'Unidentified Luggage' - all of which invite a lot of thought, imagination and the opportunity to be pretty abstract and 'out there'. The group's aim is to be a platform for artists of various disciplines to showcase their work, be it artists, writers, actors, set designers, dancers etc etc. In the performance I watched, which took place at Hoxton Square Bar and Kitchen (lovely part of London!), there was certainly a lot of variety in the way people interpreted an item as simple as a chair.

My sketch was on first (which I took as a pretty good sign, maybe?) and had a chair as the sole focus. I only featured two characters - both male - and one starts the conversation with 'Do you remember what we were talking about the other day? Well, I did it in the chair!' and a series of crossed wires and double meanings follow, in which one character and the audience believe he is detailing having sex with his girlfriend in the chair, when in fact it is something much more innocent. Yes, I laughed to myself at work as I wrote it, and even got a couple of laughs from the audience too! (I was expecting awkward silence...!) Some of the other sketches were much more inventive - one in which a rather desperate man had bought a conversation about chairs to use on a date, one where a group of people in a waiting room discuss and argue about 'chair rights' once one person declares that a chair is not taken, and one musing how a chair always seems to be lurking in the background in every case they have seen of spontaneous combustion. I'm sort of quite glad I wasn't able to come up with the last one myself, my mother would be worried.

All in all, the experience lasted for about an hour, in which I laughed, was confused, and at times a little freaked out, but always entertained! The actors that brought the scripts to life were all very talented, as they carried off even the strangest ideas well, and with my script the actors and directors made it just as I had imagined! It cost just £3 to watch and was a really interesting way to spend an afternoon, I will definitely be keeping a lookout for their future performances.

New York - The End!

2009-09-02T04:13:00.000-07:00

The time had finally come for us to say goodbye and go back to the land of cows and marmite and short buildings, but before heading to the airport there was still time to have just a little bit more fun. In a library. Oh yeah! New York Public Library, to be precise, the one that appeared in 'The Day After Tomorrow' and 'The Sex and the City Movie' - and it seems anything I've seen on a television screen can't fail to be exciting! The building is very different from those surrounding it, with its' detailed heavy stonework and columns making it look very traditional. This is continued inside, but is much more ornate, and honestly breathtaking - the films do not do it justice, and I don't think my writing can either - just go and see it, it's awesome! We wandered through the marble halls and staircases until we found the long study rooms with walls covered in books...and pretended to be studying there for the sake of a photo. A bit sad I know, but I don't care!

We also stumbled across an exhibition of the Declaration of Independence that the library was holding for a short time, which we could view for free - very important at the end of the holiday! It showed the personal letters from George Washington and the various newspaper articles at the time as the declaration was being finalised. I have to admit to being fairly ignorant of the ins and outs of American history, but even I found it really interesting, especially to think of how different the world would be if America had not been granted its' independence...international business folk would not be fuelled by Starbucks' skinny frappuccinos, or the like, for a start!

As the time ticked away we just about managed to fit in a final New York experience, shopping on 5th Avenue...unfortunately it was only window shopping (especially in Tiffanys!) but it's nice to see how the other half live. And I was only a little bit jealous. For us, our purchasing power only stretched to one of the delightful stores full to the brim of nearly every imaginable item with an 'I heart NY' sign stamped on it/ made into a Statue of Liberty or Empire State building shape. Tack galore but it has to be done! I spent a disgusting $60 on presents my family probably didn't want - but I believe that everyone secretly wants pens, keyrings and fridge magnets as presents.

Unfortunately it was time to go to the airport and fly through the night back home. It had been a wonderful holiday, and although it was not my first time to New York, I think this trip really showed me what the city was all about - an eclectic mix of everything you can think of, with a little of what you can't. Even if you lived there I don't think it would be possible to find all the gems the city has to offer, but it would be really fun to try!

New York Day Five

2009-08-29T14:18:00.000-07:00

This is it, time ticked away to bring us to our final full day in the Big Apple. By this point we had been on 4 tours of the city, winding through the streets, and now, it was time to take to the water! Our main reason behind this was so that we could get a good view of the Statue of Liberty without having to queue for hours, and because the tour went around the whole perimeter of Manhattan. We sort of forgot about the fact that it was hot - really hot - and we would be on this boat, in the sun, for three hours. Ouch.

It was all very scenic and interesting, but the most memorable part of the tour was our guide, and even now his name has been seared into my brain - Malacky Murray. I shudder. Perhaps it was him that made the three hours really feel like three hours. Murray is a 6 foot-ish, sunglasses wearing, moustache-sporting, ponytail-haired, relentlessly-speaking creature of a man, who - without fail - mentioned his new book 'Unique New York' and the fact that it was now able to buy from Amazon, at least every twenty minutes. He also credited New York with about seven wonders of the world - the Empire State, Statue of Liberty, Brooklyn Bridge, Ellis Island...a fairly big tree...forgetting that maybe the pyramids or Great Wall m

ight like to get in on the list too. Oh, and the fact that New York was the greatest city in the world - he liked to tell us that a lot too.

Old Malacky was full of wisdom, he felt he owed it to his audience to help them 'Find their genius' - as apparently only 15% of people ever find their true talent. Everyone who designed or built the Brooklyn Bridge had found theirs, that's why it was one of the great wonders of the world...? Firstly, the statistic - how it was calculated and how you can quantify it just baffles me. Secondly, how gutted would you be if it turned out that bridge-building was your life talent? Any aspiring poets or future presidents would be very disappointed. But, then if you are in the 85% of people who don't 'find your genius', it's okay, because according to Malacky 'you are who you make people believe you are'. He repeated this several times too. And I can't even be bothered to argue with his strange logic any more, I'll just hope he smoked something very strong before he boarded the ship. Anyway, he certainly made an impression!

After the boat trip we headed to Hard Rock Cafe for some lunch, trying not to dribble over the iconic band memorabilia, and then went back to the hotel to get ready for our evening out. We had to prepare for Broadway, yea

h! We had to prepare for...The Little Mermaid! This was my favourite Disney film as a child (I really wanted to be a mermaid, but not ginger) so I had very high expectations, particularly as to whether or not the songs would be carried off or not. I am happy to say that I really enjoyed it - Ursula could have been a bit more scary, but I suppose there were small children in the audience - the original and new songs were all great, costumes were amazing, and the sets all looked great. I won't go into too much detail as it might be brought over to London. And I was SO glad they kept in the song where the French chef sings to the fish as he cuts them up, 'hehehe hohoho'!

To cap our day off

we went to a diner that I had been to on my previous visit called 'Ellen's Stardust Diner'. It was set up like a traditional American diner, but it isn't really the food that people go there for - i

t's the staff. The diner's employees all work there whilst they are waiting for their big break on Broadway - and what better way to practice, and perhaps impress a prospective casting agent who happens to visit - then sing to the customers? This is what they do, all the time you are in there the microphone gets passed to every member of staff who chooses a song from a musical and performs it, often climbing around the restaurant as they do. The great, and sad, thing is that they are all incredibly talented. Great entertainment for us, the humble customer, but sad for them - that they are so close, yet still so far for their dream that you can feel they are so desperate for. And the worst thing is, you can sort of tell who is and isn't going to make it. Sure, any of them could at least make it to some sort of chorus role, but those who aren't the lean, classically good-looking types - there aren't many casting directors who would make them the face of their production. Of course it's the same in so much of the entertainment industry, it's just that it isn't normally singing and staring you in the face while you're drinking your milkshake.

New York Day Four

2009-08-21T08:58:00.000-07:00

This was the day that had been planned for some time, the one day that was set in stone. The pinnacle of our New York experience. But, that's not until the afternoon. So, to fill our time in the morning we headed to another tourist honeypot; Grand Central Station - where so many film characters have run around in their time of crisis - did he/she get on the train?? Well, we didn't. We pretty much got in the way of commuters by taking photos and wandering around in awe of the station - the architecture and decoration puts London to shame!

A friend of mine had read about a 'whispering gallery' in the station, which was to be found outside an oyster restaurant. The name 'gallery' is a little misleading when you are looking for this place, as it is more like a whispering walkway, which we only managed to find as we saw mad looking people talking to corners in a wall. It is such a surreal experience as you speak into a corner of marble and hear back voice that sound as if they are coming from just behind you, but in fact are several feet away with a bustling stream of people moving inbetween. Apparently it is a popular place for marriage proposals...my friends weren't interested in mine!

When we'd had our fill of the station we walked through the humid air down towards Central Park, and waited at the fountain outside the Plaza Hotel as we'd been told that this was the exclusive meeting place for our experience. What was this 'thing' that I've been annoyingly going on about for ages? Well, something that probably only girls are interested in and so can fully comprehend our excitement...the official New York 'Sex and the City Tour'! This was the culmination of our hours of dedication to the show, we'd ploughed on through the entire six series boxset when we were supposed to be writing essays and the like at uni, and then there's the movie too. Now we were there being driven around filming locations that had been made to look so exciting and glamorous on our teeny tiny tv screen months before. And we could even get off the coach. We started with a bang at a hilarious/disgusting/slightly scary sex shop, let's just say there were a lot of batteries in a fairly small room, and we even got a free wooden spank stick, wayhey! We also had a look around a quaint little book shop that I could have looked around for hours, as well as looking around the more exclusive little shopping areas, a playground popular with celebrity mothers, and the very yummy magnolia bakery with its' famous cupcakes. And finally, as it is a must for anything SATC related, we went to a bar that was featured in the programme for the cocktails the women made famous; the cosmopolitan. It was a great way of seeing some lesser known parts of the city, and realising the sheer scale of how much there is to do and see there.

New York Day Three

2009-08-18T13:46:00.000-07:00

So I hope you're not getting bored yet, because there's lots more!! Lots and lots, and it must be read. But first it must be written, so I'll get on with it. On day three and we got our fourth recruit who caught the Greyhound bus up from Virginia to meet us. We ventured into Times Square - which was our local for the week as our hotel was literally around the corner from its' chaos, which I never got used to - to buy some tickets for a Broadway show. I shall divulge our choice later. After our purchase we noticed a large gathering of people, in the middle of which was the legend that is...The Naked Cowboy. This man, in boots, Y-fronts and a hat, brought about the same reaction I get in a theme park. A sense of dread, but the knowledge that you have to do it - go on the ridiculous new ride, have a picture and be embarrassed in front of a large group of people whilst getting groped by a middle-aged cowboy m

an. The man is a total nutjob, and clearly loves the attention and working the crowd. He intermittently bursts into country songs, one of which mentioned his running for mayor - that would be awesome and I really hope he gets it - he of all people knows what it is like to be in the thick of New York rather than hiding coveted in an office somewhere.

Anyway, so the rest of the day was devoted to exploring some more of Downtown, beginning with the elusive Soho. I loved this area - it was everything I'd heard about, fairly small streets scattered with exciting looking shops - most of which I couldn't afford to even look at for too long - but exciting nonetheless! We found what I can only guess was some kind of micro-bakery selling the smallest cupcakes I have ever seen, and I don't understand how so much amazing flavour could have been stuffed into them! We managed to eat these bitesized treats just and find a shop to shelter in just in time, as I then witnessed more rain than I have ever seen in my life - and I've witnessed a hurricane! The rain was merged together to become a continuous sheet of water, that hammered against the window in the shop, even trickling in between the frame. Staff rushed to the leaks, but there was no stopping it. People from the street trickled into the store too, dripping on the floor and displays. For us, luckily it was an Urban Outfitters shop and we happily spent nearly 2 hours looking at the clothes, books and quirky home accessories - so long, in fact, that we all felt the need to buy something - my friend opting for the best book EVER - a flip book of creative swearing. I can't stress enough how funny combinations like 'crap jacket' and 'slut farm' are after a few cocktails!

All the shopping gave us quite an appetite, so we headed to Chinatown for an authentic Chinese meal. When the taxi dropped us off, there was no mistaking where we were - the Chinese immigrants must have made some Manhattan banner maker a fortune! It was decidedly more run down than most other parts of the city, with slightly delapidated looking buildings, rubbish in the street, and faded, ripped signage above most of the shops. Because of this, we headed to the restaurant with the flashing lights - if they can afford that, they can afford not to be serving us dog or cat! There was a wedding reception in a sectioned off part of the restaurant, where I learned my new fact for the day - Chinese weddings also end in drunken renditions of Gloria Gaynor's 'I Will Survive'. Who knew?!

Cocktails fueled the end of our day, the first of which we had in a bar that truly followed its name; 'Soul Bar'. We ran inside to escape the rain, and found a dimly lit room with very few people and a small stage at one end. We decided to get a drink, and then found ourselves part of a very small audience to an incredibly talented soul band, with a lead vocalist who had very similar velvety tones to Luther Van Dross and a drummer that looked like the happiest man in the world just to be able to drum! I don't know if the rest of the audience were friends or relatives of the band, but they certainly deserved to have a fuller bar than that!

New York Day Two

2009-08-18T13:06:00.001-07:00

Our second day in the Big Apple had us flocking towards the tourist beacon that is the Empire State building - I have a theory that the only reason it

is so tall is to house the rows of meandering people inside that are queuing just to get to the top and come back down again. But, clever things that we are, we got a sneaky queue jump ticket from our friends at the hotel concierge that meant we could smugly walk past all the bored ticketless citizens. Still took bloody ages though! But, after two escalator trips that swelled your ear drums, and a couple of queues that even our nifty tickets couldn't get us out of, we were there, level 86, with a complete 360 view of the city that had been towering over us. You wouldn't have thought it possible about a concentrated pile of concrete, but it's pretty breathtaking. Much to my surprise, we even met a pigeon who felt the same way!

After a spot of shopping (in which I found that the internationally renown Macy's store is, actually, a bit rubbish!) we power-walked a few blocks to catch the final bus before our tickets ran out, and headed - a bit sweaty and out of breath - uptown. This, like Brooklyn, did not feed the New York preconceptions of being filled with famous landmarks, but was no less interesting. I liked seeing where the 'real' people lived. The streets became gradually cleaner as we moved up the streets, with the additions of small preened trees, bushes and balconies - these are the things you can get around to buying when you have enough money to live uptown I suppose! Then, it all morphed again as we reached Harlem. The litter and graffiti returned, but so did the atmosphere, a bustling atmosphere that was different to how it was downtown - it had a togetherness, a sense of community. As the bus drove past residential streets I saw something I thought only happened years ago, or in films - an actual block party. All of the residents were sprawled in the road and on the pavement, one house had its stereo propped up to the window so it could fill the street outside. People stood around chatting and dancing, and all I wanted to do was go and join in! So much now people don't know who lives down their own street, don't speak to their neighbours or make any effort to involve themselves in their community. There would not be half the amount of crime and loneliness if there was more of a connection between people and those that live around them.

When we eventually returned, we decided it was about time to conquer the jet lag and sample a bit of night life in the city. As advised by Carlos - a man who spent his day dressed as a toy soldier, having pictures taken and giving directions outside the FAO Schwarz toyshop - Greenwich Village was the place to go. So there we went! And what interesting places we found! Firstly, a pub endearingly named 'The Slaughtered Lamb', where you could sit accompanied by spider-webbed skeletons - some of which were embroiled in what must have been a very long game of chess. I loved it, but after watching Sex and the City, it wasn't exactly what we were expecting! We were offered some shots, which came not in a shot glass, but a plastic syringe. There's nothing like nearly choking on some strange vodka mixer after nearly spurting it down your wind pipe! And to continue with the macabre theme, not on purpose, we then ended up in the Jekyll and Hyde bar. This was brilliant - there were picture frames and figures that would suddenly erupt and begin talking and mechanically moving around, like a Disney nightmare. However, after being made some more shots and cocktails, this was where our night ended as my fellow explorers were nearly asleep on the bar.

A Bit of Jet Setting...Day One

2009-08-06T11:31:00.001-07:00

Well here's something new for my little blog, a travel diary! I haven't got quite enough to do a full on Bill Bryson, but I went to New York for 5 days and crammed in more experiences than I would normally manage in a year! And I don't just mean the touristy sights, one of the things that struck me most was how much more open people were to actually stop and have a conversation with you - maybe the English accent was the way in? So, to record all of these little scraps of memory, I guess it would be best to be chronological.

Day One

Well, technically day two, but no one wants to hear about how uncomfortable plane seats are, so I'll cut straight to the New York stuff! As advised by the hotel concierge (a great woman who couldn't have looked more 'New York' if she tried, with big curly hair, big make-up, and an accent that pronounces it 'cwoffee') we bought a two day ticket for a hop-on hop-off sight seeing bus, and began with the Downtown route that took a loop around the south of the island. Here we encountered the first of our tour guides; a balding man in his sixties with thin wispy hair that floated around the sides of his head, who spontaneously burst into song on his harmonica. His name was Dave. I have to admit, I was hoping for something a little more exotic. Dave asked everyone where they were from as they boarded, adding extra facts that were relevant to each group - he even knew Korean. For our benefit, Dave recounted his last visit to London, which was so recent that he still had an Oyster card in his pocket!

Next for the Brooklyn tour, which we caught down by Dock 17. I was really intrigued to see Brooklyn, it is not as filmed and has none of the landmarks of New York, so I couldn't understand why it is so often talked about. In Sex and the City, for instance, they all voice their disgust when Miranda announces she is moving there - what was the big deal?

Well, to be honest, there is no big deal! Brooklyn was nice - there is only one skyscraper and one massive road, a

s after both were built, 'Brooklyn' decided it didn't like it. What 'Brooklyn' does seem to like is narrow streets with flourishing trees on both sides, and quaint steps leading up to a sturdy wooden front door - lovely, but lacking the buzz that goes on across the bridge.

So, what else would a group of three girls do on their first day in New York? Go on a romantic horse-drawn carriage ride around Central Park of course! The sun shone, the birds sang, and our Turkish carriage driver told us all about New

York. I'm sure they're not usually Turkish in the movies? Like so many people in the city, this young Turkish man had left his family to venture to the promised land and find his fortune, his destiny, and here he was driving a white carriage with red velvet seats around a small circuit of a park, past relentless walkers and joggers, with the aid of a pretty yet rather smelly horse, and all for the twenty minutes' amusements of tourists like us. One of his carriage-driving-friends had given lifts to Brad Pitt and Adam Sandler, but he didn't even have a celebrity sighting to fuel the fact that he hadn't seen his family in years and could not afford to go back and visit them. He was one of thousands, maybe millions, in the same position. The magnetic force of that old American Dream still seems to be alive and well. I hope he finds it.

2009-07-08T04:40:00.000-07:00

I think I must have one of the only blogs, anywhere, ever, that hasn't made comment on the turmoil the world of celebrity has experienced recently with the death of Michael Jackson. What can I say, I guess I'm just a bit slow. Unbelievably it has nearly been two weeks since the 'King of Pop' died, and I think the event probably will be one of those where you remember what you were doing when you heard the news. I was in bed, vaguely considering dragging myself downstairs, when my sister thundered up to tell my mum and I what had happened - 'Michael Jackson died.' I had to ask her to repeat this several times, I didn't think I'd heard her properly - Michael Jackson was one of those people, so far away from 'normal' that surely he would be around forever, he was too different, too famous to die like the rest of us. But, unfortunately he did.

While I have always been a fan of 'MJ', I am not one of these people who are only realising now that buying his greatest hits might be a good idea, he was not a huge part of my childhood - I just remember trying, and failing, to learn the various dances he does in his videos - particularly 'Thriller', to this day I still find that video absolutely amazing! To me, especially recently, he was more of a source of intrigue and pity, if I'm honest. That good looking little boy from the Jackon 5 had grown up and cracked under the pressure of Hollywood. I watched the documentary with Martin Bashir and the inconceivable ramifications that followed it, leaving the nagging question in everyone's head - did he or didn't he? In my opinion, no, he didn't. Not that it counts for much, or has any evidence to back it up, but then neither did the tabloids who pretty much labelled him a paedophile from then on. This is one of the things that has got me about Jackson's death - alive = child abuser, freak but death = legend - like the former never happened. Why has this man had to die for the media to stop bullying him? And not only stop, but to make such great tributes to him - have the journalists actually found a conscience?

Obviously not everyone sees Michael Jackson's death as a tragedy, or really any big deal - when I logged on to Facebook the day after it happened it was littered with both positive and negative comments - the bad press had managed to permanently sway some people. And then there was those incredibly witty minds who decided that making jokes out of someone's death just hours after it had happened was a good thing to do - even just a day's grace would have been nice. And, let's be honest, just because you put the term 'kiddie fiddler' into a joke, it doesn't make it funny.

Hopefully Jackson's memorial service yesterday would have silenced all of those cynics out there - love him or hate him, there was no getting away from the fact that Michael Jackson was an amazing, legendary performer who has left a huge legacy behind him, and the fact that he was just a man. A man who was a son, a brother, and a father. If people cannot have respect for that, then hopefully they can at least find some for his daughter, the brave young girl who stood in front of all those people to tell them that out of the ridiculous celebrity bubble, he was 'the best father'. No one can argue with that.

Karima Francis 'The Author'

2009-07-03T07:52:00.000-07:00

I first came across Karima Francis as her single 'Again' was featured as iTunes Single of the Week, and therefore free to download - well worth checking out, by the way, as it is always brand spanking new music, and is a good way of finding some real gems! Anyway, I added it to my collection on my iPod, and a few weeks later it came on shuffle as I was walking to a lecture in the sun. Well, I listened to it once, and had to repeat it several times just to try and take it all in, I loved this amazing new voice and wanted more. By chance, my sister bought the album a couple of weeks later after seeing Francis as a supporting act at a gig - I sort of had to 'borrow' it right away. This was all a couple of months ago, and I'm still hooked. 'Again' is probably one of the more commercial, upbeat songs on the album. The majority of the album takes on a slower, more soulful feel where Francis showcases her amazing voice that can change in a second from sweet and ethereal to gutsy and full of emotion. Her lyrics match her voice perfectly, both of which are particularly heartbreaking in the song 'Remember Your Name', in which Francis seems to be desperately trying to connect with an alcoholic mother - I must point out I don't know if this song is autobiographical, if not, then she can add an amazing capacity for empathy and imagination to her melting pot of talent.
At only 21 years old, Birmingham-based Francis has been on an 18 date tour, some of which was spent supporting the likes of James Morrisson, and the Daily Mail has already tipped her as 'The Next Big Thing'. Whether other singles from her album are going to be marketed more aggressively, or she is simply going to take the music industry by storm with album number two, I think Francis is sat on the precipice of a hugely successful career. She will be joining a very busy market of alternative female solo artists, but unlike many, Francis does not try to make herself noticed with an impressive array of costumes and awards outfits. She is very unassuming. While a huge, theatrical stage presence is great, there is certainly something endearing and refreshing about Francis' concern with just keeping it about the music - no sequins, feathers or latex needed. Thank goodness.
I would really recommend giving this amazing voice some ear-time, you won't regret it.

The Hangover

2009-06-25T02:27:00.000-07:00

I have been very neglectful of my blog recently, and for that I must apologise. For reasons that I may write about at some point, my head has not been in a healthy writing place. However, I have still managed to take a trip to that big dark room where you sit transfixed to a big screen, ignore the people you are with, and pay stupid prices for drinks, popcorn and ice cream - the cinema! The unsociable escapist's dream, I love it!

So, as my title suggests, I went to see 'The Hangover'; a state I am unfortunately quite well acquainted with, but, after seeing the trailers on television, none of mine, so far, have included a tiger in my bathroom. I was intrigued.

I went along with my housemates, all of us girls in the 20-21 age range. I mention this because the film follows a group of twenty-something men on a wild stag weekend to Las Vegas - so the characters, setting and circumstance were not something any of us were familiar with. Women in this film, in general, are pretty much exposed as a problem - an irate fiance waiting at home, an evil, controlling girlfriend, and a rather clingy hooker. But, I'm not going to go and get all feminist - it's not my style - because, when you're on a boys' weekend, I imagine women are simply just temptation, or a pain in the...neck. And if they had been any more of a feature, it would have ruined the focus on the strained interaction between the misfitted group of men.

Those that experience this almighty hangover are as follows; Doug the bridegroom (Justin Bartha) with his best friends Phil (Bradley Cooper) and Stu (Ed Helms), and his future brother-in-law Alan (Zach Galifianakis) who's amazing warped one-liners steal the show.

The group vow to go have themselves a night they will never forget, only to wake the next morning to discover that they have all forgotten everything and lost Doug along the way. With time running out before the wedding, all Phil, Stu and Alan can do is retrace their steps to try and work out where they could have left him. Their trail takes them all around Vegas with babies, lost teeth, and trapped Chinese men - it is full of surprises, and manages to maintain originality from other 'sick humour' films whilst keeping the audience laughing.

I have to admit, as a huge fan of the film making machine that is Seth Rogan and his chums in the likes of '40 Year Old Virgin', 'Knocked Up' and 'Superbad' to name but a few, I was a little worried that 'The Hangover', being in the same vein, would not be able to live up to them. But now, if I hear that director Todd Phillips is making another movie - I'm watching it! I'll be keeping a lookout for Zach Galifianakis too, for that matter.

The Hangover - 4/5

"Open The Door"...

2009-05-23T15:37:00.001-07:00

...Were the words I had been dreading reaching my ears for some time now. When I did finally hear them, gruffly shouted from somewhere behind me by a bearded man in his sixties, I was not as horrified as I had imagined.

This particular moment had been swirling around in the back of my mind since the dark days of winter, when I was sat in my cosy room, idly looking around for some form of escape from the pending essay sat before me on my laptop. Nothing on tv, the world of social networking had nothing left for me...cleaning? Well, no, always a silly option left only for the very tedious work exercises. That's when I remembered, the little red card that had been sat on my desk since my birthday - my 21st birthday to be exact. It was a present from my stepmother, a voucher for the Virgin 'Red Letter Days'. It was worth quite a lot of money - she had bought it in the hope that I would book the same experience she had done a few months before; diving in a tank full of rather large sharks, with two trained divers beside you. While I'm sure this was great, and you are assured the sharks have been recently fed, what could the instructors do if they fancied my hand as a snack? I mean, even after the biggest dinner, I could always probably manage a KitKat...

So, I had a look on the website and browsed the different options that were available for the value of my voucher. Spa treatments...could be nice, but perhaps a little boring, car racing...I can barely control my Ford KA...that's when I saw it - on limited special offer for restricted time only - tandem skydiving!! It was perfect, it was exciting, dramatic, and got me away from those bloody sharks! When should I book it for? Well, lets see, I will have given in all of my work by May 18th, so how about the weekend after that? It's not for months, that seems perfect. And so, it was done.

All of those months passed an awful lot quicker than I was anticipating, however, and before I knew it, I was struggling to roll myself out of bed on that sunny Saturday morning. I think I had managed a grand total of an hour's sleep the night before. For one reason and another I found myself in the car with an audience of my mother, my auntie and my nan, all of whom cried out and nudged me whenever a plane flew overhead, or we drove past a sign for Swindon (where the airfield was.) This did not help my nerves.

After a few minor direction malfunctions we found ourselves pulling up at the airfield, which consisted of a field - oddly enough - a huge open sided shelter littered with parachutes being rolled back up and nervous 'students' wandering around, a mobile greasy-spoon cafe, and an array of picnic benches. We especially thanked the good weather after it transpired we had to wait for several hours on these picnic benches.

I went through the obligatory training, sitting in a circle with other pale-looking parachutists-to-be, it was like some kind of cockney-man-yoga to the angry sound of propellors rather than calming, twinkly background music. It all seemed quite simple in theory, but seeing my nan in the distance continually winking at me made it a little difficult to concentrate, clearly she had taken a shine to the instructor. Once this was done, I was ready, the nerves were gone and I was ready to DO THIS! But unfortunately, due to large numbers of people I had to wait four hours. For me, they were somewhat uneventful so I won't plague you with them. Let's skip to...

...I heard my name being shouted across the crowd of picnicers by a stocky man, probably in his thirties, with the top half of his jumpsuit trailing around his waist, the arms dancing as he walked. I had seen him do a jump with a girl who's family had been sitting behind me, at least she had come back in one piece. My instructor, Ash, introduced me to my jumpsuit - I had been hoping for one of the garish multi-colour pieces that were hanging on a clothes rail, the ones that must have been based on an eighties shellsuit. No such luck, I had to settle for black, with some nice red and yellow racing stripes down the side - I would've been cool if I were a car. We walked through the long grass towards the plane - it didn't look much bigger than those I've seen teenage boys flying with remote controls. This pilot, however, was no teenager, and certainly no gentleman. As soon as I had reached within speaking distance he shouted over to me, 'Well, you can tell she's got a big arse!' (I was the only 'she' in the group, so there was no mistaking it). After a good sixty years of existence, how does he not get that you just don't say that to a female?!

Anyway, since he was the man in charge when I was at 10,000ft, I decided to let it slide. We all climbed inside the aircraft, the space inside was no bigger than the inside of a van. As there were seven of us - and all, apart from me, quite large men, there is only one arrangement of bodies that works - in between each other's legs. Bodily contact is certainly not shied away from in the parachuting business.

It took around twenty-five minutes for the plane to climb to the desired height, and I was strangely calm. I looked out at the views of the English countryside, admired how the fields looked like a patchwork quilt of various greens and yellows, watched with wonder as we passed effortlessly through the clouds. I was less panicked in this tiny, rickety plane than on a commercial passenger jet.

This is when those words came.

I was told to pull down my goggles as the door was slid open, and a wealth of noise and air flooded the inside. Two parachutists who were jumping alone went before me - the first literally shuffled to the edge and rolled out on his side. By this point, yes, I was rather terrified, but there was nothing I could do as my instructor began to move himself, and therefore me, towards the door. I remembered the training; as he reached the door I had to swing my legs out and hook them underneath the plane, hold onto my shoulder straps, and lean my head back - at least I couldn't see the ground outside. I don't remember falling out.

On rollercoaster rides, I always remember the sickening, stomach-flipping feeling that comes from falling a long way - I had been expecting to experience this for the thirty seconds I would be falling, but it never came. The speed made the air become some kind of buffer beneath me, and instead of falling at 120mph, I just felt like I was lying down in a very very windy place. The noise was literally deafening, and when the parachute was inflated the silence that followed was almost ghostly. It was only once we had slowed down that I could sort of comprehend what had just happened, and realise that I had done the scariest part. I had done it!

I think I laughed all the way back down to earth as I reminded myself of this, with the late afternoon sun beating on my face, and the air rushing through the few strands of hair that had come loose in the fall. I can't go into much more detail of the experience itself; like I have heard so many people say, somewhat irritatingly, it is simply indescribable. Only doing it yourself would allow an understanding of what it is like, and after the day I have had today, I would strongly recommend that you do.

And It's All Over

2009-05-19T14:42:00.000-07:00

Well, as of yesterday I officially finished and gave in my last pieces of work for my degree. It's done, I made it, now I just have to wait for it to be marked (hopefully generously) and I'll have some form of a degree! Somehow I managed to choose my modules wisely and wriggled out of doing an exam; it's quite a sore point with my housemates, some of whom have three or four to revise for...I'm quite hated, but now I have absolutely no idea what to do - with the next couple of weeks before everyone finishes exams and can party, with the summer, with...life! I would have thought I'd be the most excited girl around, being free to watch all the films I put off when I was working, read books, draw stuff...but already I have itchy feet and it has only been a day! This wasn't helped by the fact that I need to start emptying my room of stuff as it's going to take a few trips to get it all home (where it's going to go is another matter...perhaps for another time) and placing all my books and things into boxes just reminded me of how excited I was three years ago in halls, taking them out, finding somewhere for them to go, making a space for myself.

Perhaps this is what I'm most scared of - losing independence. It's been a little daunting sometimes the amount I've had at uni, but, it's great! I can do the living-without-my-parents thing! And I don't know how it will work going from this to sharing a room with my sister again. Obviously I've had to do it over the holidays, but I think there's a different mindset when you know that it's only temporary. Hmm.

The English Department (legends that they are) organised a talk for us finalists after the last pieces of work had been given in, and it was lovely (despite my needing the toilet for the duration) as they outlined what we had all achieved in our time on the course. I had never really thought about it, but I have worked bloody hard at this - most of the time - and I couldn't help but feel proud that I'd seen it through to the end, and so far done a pretty decent job. What did not help, however, was everyone around me raising their hands when asked 'Who has solid plans for when they leave?' I'd like a plan. The free wine following the talk helped make me forget about this for a while though, which was nice. Especially as it was poured by my lecturers (one of which I think may have made a start on the wine beforehand, she's great! I seem to like brackets in this post.)

This was another thing that hit me - it's just typical that, unlike secondary school which I got so bored of, couldn't wait to leave, and unfortunately run into people that went there all the time, I have to leave university after a much shorter time, where I have loved being, met some amazing people, and finally just about feel like I know what I'm doing...what's up with that?! Oh well, if I try to put a good spin on it all I suppose I've been so lucky in experiencing any of this at all, and I can stay in touch with the people that matter once it's all done. Yes, I like that thinking.

For now though, I will try and take advantage of my freedom watching some crappy TV whilst doodling whatever comes into my head, as I miss it. After that, I guess I should spend some time thinking up one of these plan things that everyone else seems to have...I wonder what I was doing when they were all thinking of theirs?

For this award, I'd like to thank...

2009-05-08T15:45:00.000-07:00

As my title suggests, I have recently won an award! How very exciting. Unfortunately, an acceptance speech thanking my parents, my friends, my neighbour's cat etc for their support was not necessary as I'm not that important that people want to listen to me ramble and cry on stage, but, hell, I got an award! What for what for I imagine you are crying at your screens? Well, I'll tell you.

Last night I attended a university ceremony for the EVAs, aka the Excellence in Volunteering Awards, organised in recognition of all the hard work people in the university have put into running societies, events, and raising money for charity. The latter category is where I came in, as I have been part of the university RAG committee for the 08/09 season, and got awarded an honour for my efforts. I received an email a couple of weeks ago to say I'd been nominated, I never found out who by, but I'm very grateful! I've never won anything like this before, I suppose because I've never really done anything before that might deserve it. Even though a new committee has been elected now, and I'll be leaving soon, I'd really love to continue volunteering - and not just because everyone tells you to do it for the sake of your CV. Like I said, I've never really done anything like this before, when people told me they ran for a charity/helped out at a charity shop for free/visited old people's homes, I thought it was nice of them, but, didn't feel enthused to give up my own time for it. With RAG, the main aim was to raise money, by any means we could think of, so that we could give it to the various charities we were supporting. We organised a Christmas Ball, a community day (which Desmond Tutu came to - the man is a legend and has the best laugh...ever!) and sometimes just plain, old-fashioned stood in the street with a bucket. Oddly, the latter is the volunteering effort I think I will always remember and feel really good about.

I'll set the scene.

It was a cold Saturday morning in December. I had to race eager, already angry, shoppers to one of the last parking spaces town had to offer. I couldn't wear a proper coat, because I had to wear a bright pink 'Cancer Research' t-shirt, with a bright pink bucket to match (which, by the way, I wasn't allowed to shake...apparently bucket shaking is deemed to be aggressive. who knew?) and follow busy people on their way to overcrowded shops, laden with shopping bags, and ask - even though we had all just been told we were in a recession and people were spending more than they would at any other time of year - for money. But, instead of strongly worded versions of 'go away', they happily parted with their cash - coppers, pounds, sometimes notes. I was surprised to say the least. When we had been there for about 3 hours and were starting to lose feeling in our fingers, a middle aged couple came up to us and gave some money. They began to walk off when the woman approached myself and a fellow collector, she had tears in her eyes and told us we were doing a great job, and that she was currently suffering with cancer herself, and was so grateful that people were trying to help others like her. We didn't know what to say. I felt awful for how much I'd been complaining that I was bored, cold and hungry all morning - none of that mattered any more because we had come face to face with the real reason we were there. And I think after that I would have stayed all day and all night trying to help that woman. So, I guess what I'm saying is that volunteering isn't just something that helps get you a job, or something that only greenpeace hippies do - it can make a difference. And the little award I got just makes me remember that I did...which is particularly useful when you're in the university 'bubble', separated from the real world and wondering what the point is in writing yet another essay!

The Time Traveler's Wife

2009-05-06T02:22:00.000-07:00

I have been wanting to read this book for the better part of two years now, but haven't allowed myself until I was free from reading the many, many, many course books for uni. Over easter, however, I finally took the plunge. And I think it quite possibly shot it's way up the list to definitely being one of my favorite books of all time - with all the hype surrounding it I was so pleased that the book itself was not a let down.

It is Audrey Niffenegger's first novel - I can't wait for more! - following the unique lives of Clare and Henry, a couple destined to be together when that is the one thing they cannot be, as Henry has a genetic condition which causes him to randomly time travel. Niffenegger has cleverly structured the book so that it jumps backwards and forwards in time, exploring memories and giving a slow release of information whilst mirroring what Henry's life is like, as he constantly finds himself in different times too.

The themes of destiny and fate are explored, as although Henry can travel through time, he cannot change anything from happening unless it has already happened. He meets Clare when she is six, and visits her as a middle aged man throughout her childhood. He does not meet her, however, until he is in his twenties when she finds him in her real time and they are the same age. It takes a while to get your head around sometimes, but that, for me, makes it even better.

The characterisation and description throughout the book are wonderful; the likeablility of the characters makes their difficult situation even more heartbreaking, along with the fact that they simply couldn't be with anyone else.

Niffenegger's references to music and art enrich the writing and give the different times a sense of authenticity - Henry is young and wild, and often gets to relive, the time in Chicago at the time of the New York Dolls and The Talking Heads, when punk was truly alive.

The significance of the book's title does not really come into focus until the end. Although narration is split between Henry and Clare, as a reader the interest tends to fall on Henry - he is the one who is 'special', who experiences the extraordinary, who encounters danger. Clare is just normal, who stays at home, waiting for him. As a time traveler's wife, though, that seems to be all one can do, and the realisation of this, for Clare and the reader, is heartbreaking.

As with any popular book at the moment, there is going to be a film released soon. I suppose my curiosity is going to force me to see it, but already I am a little sceptical. Firstly, because the leading roles of Clare and Henry are going to be played by Rachel McAdams and Eric Bana - both perfectly fine actors - but I always had someone resembling Cate Blanchett in my head when I was reading it, so already she doesn't look right! And how can 'The Hulk' be Henry?! But anyway, I shouldn't dismiss it before I've seen it, so I shall just wait patiently, and hope that the director has done justice to this wonderful book.

The Time Traveler's Wife - 5/5

The Monumental Day...or not so much

2009-04-24T13:37:00.001-07:00

Today was the day, the defining moment in a student's university experience, the moment all of your time of (sometimes questionable) learning has lead up: The Dissertation. After a year of deciding on a topic, going through hours of research, trying to form some sort of comprehensive argument, and trying to get my head round how to reference all of these witty quotations I'd come across - today was the day I finally handed it in.

Now, I know larger and larger proportions of society are going and getting themselves one of these degree thingies at the moment, but with the amount of stress, worry and sleepless nights some of my housemates and I went through over these projects, it was like we were the first people ever to do them. And we're the fairly organised ones that have given them in early, who knows about these others that have been rumored to be living in the campus library now; their skin pale and oily, rings around their eyes, and shaking hands from an overload of caffeine having only just started to research their topic a couple of weeks before the due date.

No, I wasn't one of these people, I could have stretched out working on it until Monday, but the truth is I'm so sick of the sight of the thing that I just wanted it out of my life. And did that bring me relief? Well, not really. Firstly, I'm still worrying about the damn thing even after I've given it in - is there anything else I should have done? Why don't I have as many references as other people? Secondly, the feeling of being free from this weight that has been pulling at the back of my mind for so long is a little unsettling - I sat watching some celebratory daytime tv earlier feeling like a naughty schoolgirl - surely I should be doing something else? And thirdly, even though I was organised enough to give it in early, the very thought of doing so made me forget all of my things for my afternoon seminar, which put an extra 40 minutes of very speedy walking time home and back to campus, and quite frankly, rather than going out to party I'd rather collapse in bed!

So much for Britain's youth of today being manic and out of control, I'll be asleep by 11!

Turn Up For The Books!

2009-04-22T02:21:00.000-07:00

Well, this blog was not only intended to be a string of review ramblings, but also about the experiences of a student graduating into a seriously messed up work place. I haven't had anything to report, as despite sending my CV to lotsss of job listings on various graduate job sites I hadn't heard a peep. Until now. This morning, in fact about ten minutes ago whilst I was leisurely browsing through my junk emails, I got a phone call in response to one of said applications. As excited as I was that someone had finally got back to me, it was unfortunately regarding the position I knew least about...in video games. I have been asked to attend an interview next week, so will of course be scouring the web for as many interview tips, do's and don'ts, and all the rest of it - but I doubt there will be tips for feigning an interest in video games. What to do?

Well, I guess, like most people do at some point in interviews, I'll just lie. And, like most people who lie in interviews, the interviewer who is used to people lying and catching them out, will catch me out. Pessimistic?

And then, my other dilemma, what if they actually offer me the job? It is minimum graduate salary but if I accept it would probably mean I have to live in London...and after rent and graduate loan payments have been taken out of my salary, I'll have about £5 left to play with. And then, what if they offer me the job, I accept, and a couple of weeks later I get a response from a prospective DREAM job - right now I'm not even sure what that would be - but I can't accept it because I'm already busy moulding my hands into claws from playing video games all day? (Will I even get to play the video games?)

I think I liked it better when no one got back to me...

Meg Rosoff, 'How I Live Now'

2009-04-21T09:52:00.000-07:00

This is another delight I found in the depths of my reading list - I must remember to thank my tutor for guiding me towards so many great books! The book was intended for teenagers and young adults, but I have to say it is so powerful and relevant that it would engross someone whose adolescence is just a distant memory. Rosoff does a great job of writing as a fifteen year old girl, Daisy, who has been sent from New York to live with her Aunt and cousins in the English countryside.

You are instantly drawn to Daisy, she is honest to the reader, but painfully secretive to those around her - particularly her father and her questionably evil stepmother, 'Davina the Diabolical'. Daisy's honesty is both funny, she has 'one of the best Oh Yeah, This Is So Much What I Usually Do kind of faces', but also desperately sad. She lacks the closeness of a mother figure, due to her own mother's death when she was in labour, and has such low self esteem that she has convinced herself she is unimportant and unattractive. Her pain is exhibited in her anorexia, which she explains and describes in such a way that the reader is both educated in why someone would develop the disorder, and warned - it is not glamorized, and Daisy is never praised for being so thin - refreshingly veering away from the ridiculous size zero celebrity culture.

Rosoff's writing about the love between Daisy and Edmond, her cousin, conjures a nostalgia for one's first love; the excitement, the secrecy, the intensity of it all. This boiling pot of hormones and teenage issues is then thrown into the horrific chaos of war, a war where these children fight to survive without the help of, and in fact against, adults. It is in this extreme test of character and endurance that Daisy proves she is not as insignificant and invisible as she had thought. It is an often horrendous coming-of-age journey she must complete in order to overcome her insecurities, her disorder, and realise that love is all that matters.

A blunt, beautiful insight into what someone can achieve, when they would be the last to have believed it.

Meg Rosoff, 'How I Live Now' - 4/5

Knowing (me, knowing you, ah-haaaaaaa. No, not really.)

2009-04-16T04:06:00.000-07:00

I ventured out to the cinema last night, parted with my hard-earned, I mean, loaned cash, and settled into the semi-comfy seats with a big bag of Starburst (bought at the Co-op up the road, half the price of cinema Starburst!) I had only seen the odd television commercial for this film, 'Knowing', so gathered that it starred Nicholas Cage, who somehow had a bit of paper that predicted major disasters (funnily enough, emphasis was only put on the American disasters.) It looked quite intriguing. And it was, throughout the majority of the film I was engrossed, the tension in some parts had even me clutching on to my boyfriend's hand (luckily for him there were no nail indents, it would have had to be scarier for that!)

I won't give away what happens, but unfortunately the film's ending very quickly undid everything it had built up to and made it into, quite frankly, a bit of a joke. And what made it even worse was the fact that most of the people I was with could guess the unlikely outcome of the film before it happened...not the gasp-worthy twist I imagine the creator's were going for.

In fairness, there was a lot that was good about the film; the performance of the young Lucinda Embry; a young girl who made the piece of paper containing the dates of the future disasters was eerie, as was the moment the drunken John Koestler (Cage) reveals what the numbers mean. People's memory of the hideous events that are mentioned is enough to send a shiver down one's spine.

The special effects are excellent; the two disasters that John witnesses - a plane crash and subway disaster - are horrific, there are hysterical screams, people running around aflame, corpses everywhere. It brings home the haunting sadness of simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. If this had concluded to some way of John being able to stop the last disaster, or coming to any sort of realistic conclusion that fits with the stark realism the film had adhered until the end, I could say that it was well worth watching. But, as it is, all I can say is that is worth watching...just as long as you leave before the last twenty minutes or so...

Knowing - 3/5

Changeling

2009-04-14T13:03:00.000-07:00

This is one of those films I never got round to seeing when it was out at the cinema; I saw the previews, Angelina Jolie screaming 'It's not my son', wearing a hat, etc etc. I thought it looked interesting, but it didn't make me go 'wow', I didn't feel the need to drag along one of my cinema buddies to come and see it with me, there was other stuff on that looked more fun. However, after watching the dvd last night, I really regret missing it - the film was superb and would have been brilliant on the big screen.

What is perhaps the most interesting and most appalling aspect to the film is that it is quite closely based on real events that occurred in 1928 Los Angeles in the 'Wineville Chicken Coop' kidnap and murder case. It follows Christine Collins (Jolie) and her fight to be heard when her son Walter is kidnapped from home, and the police return her the wrong boy. Female inequality, police corruption, and terrifying miscarriages of justice ensue; Collins is only taken seriously when a young boy comes forward to inform the police about the slaughter of several young children, one of which was Walter Collins.

I think what put me off seeing this film when it was released was Angelina Jolie being in the lead role - to this point I had only seen her in boyish, aggressive roles - like in Tomb Raider, Girl Interrupted, Mr and Mrs Smith - not terrible films, but her characters in them were never particularly 'nice'. In short, I judged the film because I had decided I didn't like her. Well, if I had a hat right now, I would have to eat it, because her performance was outstanding. Unlike the boisterous, outspoken roles said to have been close to the actress herself, here Jolie was timid, polite, likeable, with great strength within in her stemming from a mother's determination to find her son. She commanded respect. With the help of an always brilliant yet intimidating John Malkovich, and ray of hope; Michael Kelly, and of course, expert direction from the legendary Clint Eastwood, the film came to an emotionally draining, fascinating, and haunting conclusion.

I was engrossed from start to finish.

Changeling - 5/5

Bloc Party at Kensington Olympia

2009-04-13T08:13:00.000-07:00

Oops, been a bit slack on the old blogging front recently, but, in my defence, it was Easter! However, I did spend my Easter Sunday evening doing something a little more exciting than usual - as the title suggests, I went to see Bloc Party. Now, for those like my mother, and several other people over the age of 25 who replied to the statement 'I'm going to see Bloc Party' with 'Oh, what's that?' perhaps I should give an introduction. Bloc Party are a British four piece band consisting of Kele Okereke, Russell Lissack, Gordon Moakes and Matt Tong, who were formed at the Reading Festival in 1999, but only settled on the name Bloc Party in 2003. They have recently released their third album 'Intimacy', which the tour is in aid of. I was lucky enough to see them on their last night in England before going on tour overseas in Kensington Olympia; a venue I had only ever known as a daytime exhibition centre, but I have to say I really liked it.

Now, for the performance. I had been wanting to see Bloc Party perform live for some time now, their tracks like 'Helicopter' have been a frequent delight on night's out, and I bought their album 'A Weekend in the City' last year and absolutely treasure it. So it is safe to say they had a lot of expectations to live up to, and luckily they exceeded them.

Unlike a lot of bands with a new album to plug, Bloc Party did not just stick to the new stuff - while what I've heard of it has been great, it's just not the same when you can't sing along to the words yet. In fact, in addition to all the songs that had been released as singles, they managed to fit in a lot of album tracks from their earlier two albums, such as 'Blue Light' from their first album 'Silent Alarm' and 'Song for Clay' from 'Weekend in the City' (Amazing!)

The front man, Kele Okereke, showcased his distinctive vocal talent beautifully, the whole band worked together so well live that every song was not only as good as the recorded version, but better - which is as it always should be. Okereke chatted to the crowd, saying how nice it was for him to be home again in London, even though he wouldn't be back again for a while, and - to really get into the Easter spirit - he reappeared for the second half of the performance in a full white, fluffy rabbit suit. It was very becoming.

The band's finale was most definitely that, ending the excitable and sweaty evening with their hit 'Flux', which was released in November 2007. It was the song many members of the audience (including my friends and I) had been looking forward to, and it was introduced by Okereke, 'Now, I know we've hit you guys with a lot of energetic songs tonight, but I hope you've kept something in reserve for this last song...It's kind of a big deal.' And he was right. The atmosphere was electric, and there was not one head in the sea of people around me that was not madly bouncing around with a huge smile plastered across it.

Everyone left that evening sweaty and happy, despite the nightmare of Easter public transport they had to face getting home.

Bloc Party - 5/5

Ali Smith, 'Hotel World'

2009-04-08T11:20:00.000-07:00

As with 'A Handful of Dust', this novel was thrust to my attention by my creative writing lecturer ('how do you lecture about creative writing?' I hear you ask, well, it's interesting) as part of my reading list - the books that were put on there all handled setting/characterisation/structure/narration in a different way, for inspiration. And this text was the only one on the list, in fact the only book I have ever read, that moved me to tears.

Smith's writing is impeccable; the novel is split into five sections, with a different woman in charge of each one - each has her own quirks, own habits of speech, own devastating aspects of their past or future. By the end of their chapter, each character feels like your friend, and then you realise you still know hardly anything about them at all and everything is still a delicious mystery.

'Hotel World' floats around the story of a young girl who came to an accidental and horrific end whilst working in a hotel, and the sometimes random people who were directly and indirectly involved with her. The part that made me cry was that belonging to the dead girl's younger sister after she has been left sisterless in a home still reeling from the tragedy. Her narrative, at first, is very difficult to read, in the continuous, rapid, breathless monologue of a troubled teenage girl. Sentences last forever, thoughts bleed into each other, she says 'like' a lot. She has so much to say, so many thoughts she wants to write and so many about her sister she wants to block out. Her grief and the things it makes her do, which she realises are 'mad', are completely relatable for anyone who has experienced loss, and the honesty with which she talks about it grabs you round the throat. Granted, when I read her section I was very sleep deprived and hungover, but I maintain that it was moving enough to wrench at my stomach from being in the happiest of moods.

Without giving everything away, some other aspects are also worth mentioning. We hear from the dead girl herself, Sarah, who describes some very thought provoking experiences one may have after death; choosing who to appear to, forgetting things about when you were alive because you're not that person any more. There is both a comfort and distress in it.

I am planning to re-read this book whenever I have time to, as I think it would be even better second time around - there is so much packed in to every sentence that I am sure to have missed things.

I would recommend this read to anyone, it hits you - not just like a breath of fresh air, but like a slap in the face, a startling, brilliant slap in the face. You need it sometimes.

Ali Smith, 'Hotel World' - 5/5

Paul Blart: Mall Flop

2009-04-07T02:24:00.001-07:00

At the weekend I had the misfortune of having to not only miss the glorious sunshine and bustle of my local highstreet in favour of sitting in a dark room with my Dad and brother (we tend to argue if our quality family time is spent conversing), but that during my time in this dark room I was exposed to the sloppy cinematic disaster that is 'Paul Blart: Mall Cop'.

Kevin James, the guy who nearly stole the show from Will Smith in 'Hitch' is Paul Blart, and he is by far the only vaguely good thing about the film; his exaggerated action scenes and pretty amazing facial expressions carry it. Other than that, however, it is poorly scripted and revolves around the idea that fat people are funny, so lets make a movie where a fat guy has to run a lot. And that's being generous about it's level of sophistication. Now, I'm not being a movie snob, I like ridiculous films, they please my simple sense of humour; I'm openly a fan of 'Wayne's World', but this film just didn't hit the spot. I don't know if it is just that I'm getting cynical in my old age, but all I could think as I watched was that the only thought and feeling that had been put into this film was how to make some quick, easy money. The writers must have known it was never going to be a classic, neither the director, or Kevin James. This is probably my biggest problem with this film; if someone is going to add to modern culture - be it literature, film, theatre or art - their work should say something, do something for the society it is released into, they are all forms of art, and any film should be as painstakingly crafted as an artist's sculpture would be. But, for now, it is all about the money.

Paul Blart: Mall Cop - 1/5

First post...the post that hurts the most

2009-04-06T05:28:00.000-07:00

Only avid Mighty Boosh fans will appreciate that title, but I couldn't resist!

So, time to get this blog-show on the road and start posting! I've decided it is probably best to do a review whilse it is still fresh in my head, that being Evelyn Waugh's 'A Handful of Dust'.

Not that it is necessarily a bad thing, but this book took some real concentration to get to grips with; firstly - I should probably have been aware of this already - but the fact that 'Evelyn' is in fact a man, which I'm gave a different perspective to the text than if I had continued to think a woman had written it. And then, the opening pages were about as welcoming to outsiders as the society portrayed in the pages within, but - once you're in - the satiric world Waugh creates is fascinating and unforgivingly detached.

You are thrust into a world of cold, immoral people, where appearance is everything, indulgence the way of life, and gossip is rife. As satire is Waugh's speciality, there is a mixture of disgust and humour in relation to how the English upper class think and behave; females are put at fault in particular. The once peaceful life of Tony and Brenda Last, living on their apparently distastefully decorated estate, is disrupted into chaos after the introduction of the somewhat gormless Mr Beaver - disliked by everyone in his and the Last's social circles. This affair brings delight to acquaintances as it fuels their need for gossip; there is no sense that it is deceitful or wrong. Even Brenda who appears as the dutiful, yet disillusioned, wife, does not display any sense of remorse but instead tries to set Tony up with an extra-marital relationship of his own. Tony is one of the few characters who seems to have a 'normal' set of values; he will not commit adultery because he loves Brenda, he does not want to attend the exclusive parties in London, or spend time with the materialistic and vacuous people who will be there. When his honest wishes of living with his family in the inherited estate that he loves are set against Brenda's confused and empty want of excitement, parties, and luxury, the ridiculous nature of materialism is starkly highlighted.

What Waugh does excellently is characterisation; each person has their own quirks in their speech and habits, such as 'The Shameless Blonde' and her need to play 'patience' whenever she has a spare minute, Mrs Beaver's relation of every situation to what furniture and decoration she could provide for it. Little John Last is perhaps the most endearing, as he copies the bad language of his working class horse trainer, Ben, and repeats it in the worst situations. He also has a charm for taking everything literally, which is refreshing in such a twisted society where there is no honesty and nothing is quite as it seems.

So, one is drifting through this fake world of scandal and hypocrisy, when there is suddenly a burst of rather odd action, following young John's death. Divorce, staged affairs, and a random trip following Tony to Dutch Guana follows, twisting the novel on its head and completely changing its focus. While, as a reader, you cannot complain that the novel is predictable, you are definitely left pining for some sort of resolution. But then, perhaps that is the point Waugh is trying to convey; even in this most civilized of societies people think they have created, there is not really any order, and any power one thinks they have over the course of their lives is merely an illusion constructed by this society.

I suppose what I'm saying, is that it is most definitely an interesting read, but I can definitely understand the contraversy surrounding Waugh - some say he is a literary genius and some find his work ridiculous. Admittedly in the boring position of sitting on the fence, I tend to swing between the two; in this work, anyway, it is as though he has surges of brilliance - like John's death, which then seem to lapse into the mediocre.

If I come across another of his books I will definitely give it a read, and hopefully it will help make up my mind.

As this is a review of sorts, how about a rating?

Evelyn Waugh, 'A Handful of Dust' - 3/5