My Territorial Bubble

Ride the Dragon

2010-04-16T07:30:00.001-07:00

There was a period in Disney animation, just after The Lion King was released, where you thought that somebody had finally cracked it. Some talented boffin had finally discovered the formula to regularly produce glorious mainstream entertainment that wasn’t predicated on a single individual’s talent. That a large, soulless corporation had figured out how to orientate its massive resources to make something of value that people wanted to see in their millions. The Little Mermaid. Beauty and the Beast. Aladdin. The Lion King. Fantastic family entertainment one and all.

And then it all started to go wrong. Pocahontas was the first indication that the formula was being corrupted. Despite the animation growing in skill and beauty, the script, stories and characters became horribly dull. Disney lost its ability to create truly iconic characters. Sometimes, in films like Mulan, you saw glimpses of that magic touch. But with the ascendancy of Pixar (who really do seem to have found and perfected that formula), Disney continued to diminish.

The one unadulterated bright spot of that period was Lilo and Stitch, an oddball film that imbued the careworn Disney aesthetic with a funky, modern sensibility. It combined the brilliantly funny Warners-esque humour of Emperor’s New Grove with an emotional clarity and appreciation for the weird and tangential which you see regularly in shows like Spongebob Squarepants and Fairly Odd Parents. Its sort of an overlooked classic, one that seems to revel in its inability to be classified.

I mention all this because the director of Lilo have given Dreamworks Animation its first really Pixar-level CGI film. How to Train Your Dragon is something of a minor triumph – a film that manages to balance action, humour, heart and even a deft political undertow while still being hugely entertaining. For Dreamworks in particular, this borders on a revelation.

Dreamworks has always been the bridesmaid to Pixar. Its first CGI film, Antz, pretty much set the template for all further animation. A big celebrity voice cast. Colourful, if slightly plastic CGI. Endless pop cultural riffs strung together masquerading as a plot. In almost every way, their films have strived and failed to provide the same level of technical and artistic success, and the particular emotional resonance that the greatest of Pixar films seem to have as a stock in trade.

This finally seemed like it might be beginning to change with Kung Fu Panda. That film worked on a completely different level to other Dreamworks films. The animation was certainly a major step forward, with some of those most lyrical and breathtaking sequences that the company has ever put together. The script had its share of pop culture jokes but also created proper characters and cast them with performance in mind, not celebrity. While I think Pixar would ultimately have done more with the film (the Furious Five are particularly under-developed) it felt like a genuine effort to up their game.

So it’s a real pleasure to say that Dragon is proof that Dreamworks is finally finding its feet. For the first time, they have put pressure on Pixar. Toy Story 3 better be damn good.

Technically, the film is just as good as Panda, with the flying sequences offering some of the most awe-inspiring and emotional moments of 3D rapture in any film. The feeling of joy and release is palpable and they are incredibly important to the emotional core of the film. Imagine them akin to dance sequences in a musical film. They are the visual shorthand for a developing emotional bond and the film executes them with effortless grace.

So much of the film’s value is not necessarily in its plot (which is fast-paced and well worked through) nor in its characters (who are memorable, nicely written and brilliantly performed) but in the film’s spirit and moral. Like the very best of Pixar, Dragon is really about something and manages to weave its message with nuance and power. Like Avatar, it’s actually incredibly bold in its liberal, inclusive outlook. It is a spirited defence of empathy, of understanding and healing cultural differences. And it is a forthright defense of the value of questioning the wisdom of your elders.

That’s even before we get in to Dragon’s portrayal of disability. One of the value’s of Lilo and Stitch was that it wasn’t a film where the central emotional dynamic rev0olved around searching for a romantic relationship. Lilo was an awkward girl who longed for a family. Any kind of family. And the way that film complicated her desire with both fantastical and mundanely real-world concerns (ie intergalactic aliens and social service employees) felt like a breath of fresh air. Lilo eventually finds her family but it is about as far from the nuclear ‘ideal’ as you could imagine. Dragon has a similar somewhat radical spirit, There is a narrative turn in the final moments which required real delicacy to pull off. Not only do the filmmakers, performers and animators pitch it perfectly but the film leaves you soaring and giddy. I think Dragon will have real value to children who find themselves in a challenging emotional and physical situation. I think it will help to give them hope and strength and will do so while still being hugely entertaining.

Part of the reason that I am so excited by this film is because it was such a surprise. I had read some admiring reviews but nothing had quite prepared me for how beautiful, exciting and emotional the film actually turned out to be. This is about as perfect a piece of family entertainment as you could ask for.

Pixar… you’re on notice!

It Does

2010-04-16T07:12:00.001-07:00

Its rare that a film is graced with a titile that is also a perfect encapsulation of an emotional reaction. I guess you could argue Crash would come pretty close, if they put Car before it. But even that doesn’t adequately describe the shit and horror of that piece of Hollywood blah-gasm. No, unlike Crash, Kick Ass does exactly that – gleefully, efficiently and with kinky abandon.

I was a big fan of Matthew Vaughan’s last film Stardust. I thought it did a first rate job of selling its world and concept. He had an excellent eye for actors (with one glaring exception) and proved surprisingly adept at hitting the story’s emotional and romantic beats. These skills prove essential to making Kick Ass work as well as it does.

I’m going to start with the script. Vaughan and Jane Goldman had a similar challenge with Kick Ass as they did with Stardust. Both films have very specific worlds and attitudes that need to be established to allow the viewers to suspend disbelief. They are outlandish but also oddly rooted in reality, especially when it comes to emotions and character motivations. Both also straddle some quite diverse and potentially conflicting tonal elements. With Stardust, these changes sometimes tripped up the film. But its obvious that Vaughan and Goldman have progressed and largely learned their lessons. Kick Ass is a supremely assured piece of mainstream writing, one what leaps genres with ease and constantly tickles and teases the audience.

While the film is episodic, and seems to sag slightly about 2/3 of the way through, it delivers a final run of sequences which are astonishing both viscerally and oddly emotionally. When you read the changes that went in to the film from the comic book, you also appreciate the talent that Goldman and Vaughan brought to re-shaping the material, teasing out the elements which worked and allowing the story to find its own shape onscreen.

Vaughan as director has also upped his game in every way. The action scenes in Kick-Ass reminded me a great deal of Kill Bill – hyper-real fighting within a vaguely real-world construct. The character of Hit Girl, an 11 year old assassin should imbalance the entire film as she is the one utterly fantastical element but it somehow remains consistent. I believed that both Hit Girl and Kick Ass could inhabit the same world and that is down to the skill of Vaughan, Goldman and the actors. The actions scenes are visceral, varied and kinetic but punctuates them with moments and scenes of romance, comedy and tragey which add texture to the film. This may also be one of the funniest films I have seen in a long time, and much of that laughter is seeing how ballsy and committed the film is from scene to scene. Kick Ass is the type of film where plot points which should annoy the shit out of me (the ‘pretending to be gay’ romance plot for example) actually turn out to be oddly sweet and endearing.

Then there’s the cast. With Stardust, Vaughan assembled a real hodge-podge of Hollywood-stars, up and comers and complete unknowns. Except for Robert DeNiro (who was completely, if understandably miscast) it worked perfectly. In Kick Ass, I don’t need to make any concessions. Even Nic Cage, who I have grown to loathe, is perfect as Big Daddy, a character that allows him to channel his more eccentric inclinations to serve character first. Crucially, he has excellent chemistry with Chloe Moretz who plays Hit Girl. Their bond is weird, very unhealthy and yet has a significant emotional pay-off late in the film. Moretz is astonishing in this role. Again, I make the comparison to Kill Bill because she feels just as iconic as Uma Thurman’s Bride. And like Thurman, Moretz finds the grace notes to make her seem both childishly naïve and frighteningly determined.

Holding the whole thing together as the titular Kick Ass is Aaron Johnson. I didn’t see Nowhere Boy so I was unprepared for the confidence with which he acts in this film. It’s a performance at least on the level of Tobey Maguire’s work in Spiderman - he gets the same balance of goofy teen humour and romance while still hitting the right dramatic notes. It’s a real testament to his skill that in a film stuffed with scene stealers (and Chrisopher Mintz-Plasse and Mark Strong are both good enough to stroll away with the film) he consistently manages to focus the attention back on him. This is also a mark of Vaughan and Goldman who understand the emotional spine of the film and how to make their protagonist as engaging and interesting as everything else. This is not a skill which should be underrated. The Batman films have never quite been able to achieve this.

I guess I should probably say something about Chris Tookey’s now infamous Daily Mail review. I can understand him not liking the film, but his charges of paedophilia can stand to have another person point and laugh. One of the tricky tonal points that the film handles is how remarkably unsexualised Hit Girl is. Its quite impressive, especially in this day and age that neither character nor actress feel exploited. This is achieved not only through deft costuming (in fact the costumes throughout are absolutely superb) but also through deploying humour to deflect any moments that might tip the film into more problematic territory. That Tookey not only read such malign intentions on the part of the filmmakers but then compounded it by the crass sensationalism of dragging James Bulger and Damiola Taylor into it says a lot more about his own pathetic and reactionary morals than anything else.

I don’t think Kick Ass is the greatest movie ever made. I still think that honour should go to Spiderman 2 but Kick Ass works much better than almost anything else. If nothing else, its an indication that Vaughan and Goldman are a formidable duo, the equal of anything that Hollywood is producing right now.

Instant Twitter-esque take on Kick Ass

2010-04-01T10:41:00.000-07:00

FFFFFFUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKK Me! Awesome, iconic, everything the flaccid Watchmen wanted to be and more. Hit Girl will be as much of a legend as The Bride

More to come later

Fame! Adulation! A mention in another blog!

2010-03-30T12:40:00.000-07:00

... very random but very cool. My piece on that god-awful Shirley Jones show got
quoted on The Stage website

Stepping out of the Glass Closet

2010-03-30T07:48:00.000-07:00

I always feel a little conflicted when a major celebrity finally comes out after years of speculation, especially when their career is on the slide or they have a memoir to advertise. I mean, on the one hand, more visibility is always great. Their story will help to inspire others and they usually become excellent ambassadors (at least in the short term).

Yet there is also the sense that it might have meant a hell of a lot more when the celebrity was at their height of their success. That's what makes Ellen DeGeneres and Neil Patrick Harris so important. Both celebrities came out when they were already well known performers but have parlayed that into even greater subsequent success. They are important symbols against the idea that being gay inherently limits your career options.

I am genuinely happy for Ricky Martin, who has finally announced that he is “proud to say that I am a fortunate homosexual man. I am very blessed to be who I am”. His letter is sweet, if at times reads like a 90s era Diane Warren ballad (example; “Today is my day, this is my time, and this is my moment.” – just imagine the swelling strings as Celine belts that one out). But he makes clear in the letter that this was as the result of him writing his autobiography. The 'revelation' will generate headlines and publicity in a way which will no doubt guarantee a large amount of media interest when the book is released as well as a raft of media appearances. I can also imagine the long line of gay rights groups who will only be too eager to bask in this reflected light by giving Martin some kind of award (Human Rights Campaign, GLAAD and Stonewall leap immediately to mind).

One of the things I hear in switchboard all the time is then pain, fear and horror that closeted people have about coming out. Their view of it is as a traumatic, public declaration which leaves them exposed and vulnerable to attacks from all corners. In some respects, high profile coming out announcements merely reinforce this by underlying a similar ‘all or nothing’ approach. It's one of the reasons I continue to admire the ‘coming out’ scene in one of the early episodes of Glee. Its simply understatement was exactly the type of message which should be sent out to people who are struggling with similar issues.

Is it hypocritical of me to admire the coming out of Donal Og and Gareth Thomas but to feel conflicted about Martin simply because of the respective industries that they work for? Because Martin was a performer, I should expect him to be more open? Looking back on some of his videos, it’s hard not to get the impression that the lady doth protest too much, and yet this is what is expected in pop music.

Gah... I don’t have an answer to this. I’m sure Martin will do well commercially out of this, and I truly hope it does give him personal peace and happiness. I just wish it would lead to some truly high profile and relevant stars also taking the plunge.

So as a thank you to Mr Martin for finally putting to bed all those rumours, here is the Grammy performance which re-launched him as a pop star in the English speaking world. Though I prefer La Vida Loca, this is one of those moments where you can see a pop star being born.

Ricky Martin - The Cup Of Life (Live Grammy Music Awards)
Uploaded by zocomoro. - Music videos, artist interviews, concerts and more.

And as an added gay extra, here is Martin and Queen Kylie singing La Vida Loca

I kinda Love You Phillip Morris

2010-03-24T15:29:00.000-07:00

Its taken me a while to get my head around I Love You Phillip Morris (ILYPM). The film tries to be so many different things during its fairly brief running time that I imagine reactions are going to be all over the place. This is obviously intentional on the part of the filmmakers and I think its a mark of their skill that they largely keep control of the tone and pace throughout.

ILYPM is a love story. And a prison movie. And a con movie, And an outrageous John Waters-esque comedy, And defiantly, sleazily, gloriously gay. It's also, quite implausibly, based on true events. Getting any one of those elements drastically wrong would have destroyed the picture. And yet the directors maintain a level of sustained anarchy which never becomes wearying. And though some elements work better than others, it feels stylistically coherent which is something of a minor miracle.

In a lot of respects, tonally, it reminds me of Precious. One of the issues that some people had with Precious was its lurches from genre to genre. I admit this is a problem, I also had with the film. I think ILYPM navigates its tonal changes with more confidence but never hits the formidable dramatic heights of Precious. This isn't necessarily a criticism. Mo'Nique's final monologue is a masterclass and one of the finest scenes in the last decade. In ILYPM, I wonder how viewers will react to the change in tone which happens in the third act. I loved the first hour. It was hilarious, casually disreputable and filled with clever moments. It also has moments of surprising tenderness woven through. There is a fantastic moment not long after Carry and McGregor first meet when they dance together in their cell while their neighbour is violently restrained by guards. It balances romanticism and slapstick with real skill. The third act takes a hard, brutal turn and I wonder how many viewers will be able to take that final stretch. I respect the hell out of the filmmakers for pushing it as far as they did.

This is a film in which the level the actors pitch their work is as important as the more technical elements. I have slightly mixed feelings about Ewan McGregor. He uses the same southern accent as he had in Big Fish and it just sounds phony. I don't buy it for a moment. He's very good in the last half hour but for me, his accent is a barrier to those early crucial scenes where he develops his relationship with Jim Carrey. Carrey, on the other hand, gives another one of those performances which periodically remind us what a fearless, gifted actor he can be, He invests everything into this role and carries off the different emotional states of his character with real skill. He risks a lot more with this role then he did with Eternal Sunshine or Truman Show,. ILYPM demands that he use his wackier, mainstream persona and then twist and complicate it in unexpected and quite brilliant ways. There is nothing genteel or tortured about Carrey's homosexuality in this film. It is out, loud, proud and I can't think of another actor at his level who would risk doing it.

The supporting cast is great including the peerless Leslie Mann. Mann should have been Oscar nominated for Knocked Up (along with Paul Rudd). Here, she is effortlessly funny and sympathetic as Carrey's fundamentalist ex-wife.

I am shocked in some respects that this film got made. Shocked yet delighted. O could imagine that some of my gay friends will have a problem with it. But there is something refreshingly mental about the whole project which gives a genuine sense of originality and artistic anarchy into the mainstream. ILYPM isn't perfect but it throws a medium sized cherry bomb into what is acceptable in a cineplex and more importantly, what a major Hollywood star will be prepared to do.

Kudos

Theater Hell

2010-03-24T14:42:00.000-07:00

Its instructive every so often to see a show that is an epic fail. I’m not talking about one which is just boring or ill-conceived. I’m talking about one which fails so monumentally that it achieves a sort of perfection which can leave you awestruck. I had the privilege last night of witnessing a true musical theatre holocaust in Shirley Jones’ show at the Arts Theatre.

Jones is a bona fide pop cultural artifact. Broadway star, Oscar winner and the onscreen and real life mother of David Cassidy in the Partridge family. Patrick is her son who has parlayed a helmet of hair, name recognition and a passable voice into some kind of musicals career. Now 76, I presume Jones can plausibly claim to have passed into ‘living legend’ status but its really more of a horror show than a legend.

Firstly, there is no doubt that Jones, at some point had a gorgeous bell of a voice. The clip package which proceeded her entrance hit all the highlights of her formidable career (including the lowlights of singing at Regan’s inauguration). But from her opening mauling of Tonight it became clear that her voice is, charitably, not what it once was. She could just about belt out the big notes but there was not a jot of nuance or grace in any of her numbers. I was sort of reminded of a story from Meryl Seacrests biography on Sondheim. During the rehearsals on Gypsy, he learned that Jerome Robbins controlled the intensity of Ethel Merman’s singing by simply telling her to say “louder” or “quieter”. I get the impression that this is about the level of Jones’ own interpretation.

All of this is even before we get to the banter. Oh my... the banter. Painfully scripted and delivered with about as much conviction as a take-away food order, Jones never for once gave the impression that she had actually lived through any of her anecdotes. There was a sort of plastic fantastic veneer through which she communicated to the audience that had everything sounding canned or condescending. As my friend wisely said, Americans have difficulty with humble. Jones couldn’;t help coming off as deeply self-satisfied. When you add the lapses into nasty Republicanism and silly nostalgia, you have a uniquely awful performance.

Yet that wasn’t even the worst part of the might. Because there was Patrick Cassidy. Imagine a televangelist, or an Amway salesman, a man who is a terrifying shade of orange and possesses the type of perfectly coiffed hair that looks like it could be snapped off like a Lego man. That is Patrick Cassidy. Patrick wishes you to take two very important lessons from his part of the show;
1) That he is in no way jealous of the success of his more famous family members. Not in the slightest. He repeats this so often and with such a strained smile that I can only explain it as some kind of mantra that was beaten into him as a child.
2) He is a full blooded heterosexual. He is as straight as they come. He is straight squared. No, make that straight cubed. He loves women so much that he is practically a lesbian. And all his brothers are too! They are just a gaggle of women-fuckers. Why do I get the impression there is a whole history of National Enquirer innuendo here that I am not getting.

Anyway, for somebody who is supposed to be a long running Broadway performer, Patrick has a deeply unlikeable stage presence, the comic timing of my dead nan and a voice which at times searches desperately for the right pitch. His version of Being Alive will haunt me forever. On the other hand, his duet with a paper cut-out of David Cassidy’s head will provide me with joyful memories for years to come.

Yet despite all this, I am super-glad that I saw the show. I now have a benchmark to measure how shit a night at the theatre can actually be. But I was never bored. In fact the whole thing was vastly entertaining, and I have to award their persistence in mining ever lower levels of the barrel throughout the night. Shirley and Patrick, thank you. I will never forget it.

QAFUK versus QAFUS

2010-03-16T13:15:00.001-07:00

I’ve been oddly compelled to watch the entire first season of the American Queer as Folk. I say oddly compelled because the show demonstrates just how badly the original Queer as Folk could have gone.

The US version starts off as an almost perfect carbon copy of the UK version. The same characters, relationships, even the same plotlines. But that's really where the similarities end. Russell T Davies’ show is a great drama which uses the trappings of soap opera to examine some very real relationships and emotions. It has a specific narrative and dramatic focus and an in-depth appreciation and knowledge of all its characters which gives the series its power.

The US Queer as Folk, meanwhile is all soap opera. A gay soap opera that feels like it was written by straight people. In just a few episodes it managed to take everything that was subtle and complex about the original characters and flatten them into silly stereotypes. During the commentary for the second season of Queer as Folk UK (hereafter referred to as QAFUK), Russel; T Davies talks about being commissioned to write 10 extra episodes of QAFUK . He sat down to write them and realised that he couldn’t come up with anything that didn't feel like a soap opera. The story he wanted to tell was about the triangle between Stuart, Vince and Nathan. In two episodes he wrapped it up. Queer as Folk US (hereafter QAFUS) gives a terrifying glimpse into what the show could have become.

Lets take the character of Justin, which is the US version of Nathan. First of all, his age has been increased from 15 to 17. This has several knock on effects. For one, it allows the writers to edge into making him more mature, thus making his relationship with Stuart/Brian much more palatable. It also allows the writers to turn them into a semi-believable couple (after all, there is only about 10 years between them in this new version) and the purposeful maturing of Justin actually turns him into the stronger one of the two. Not only is Justin pretty, but he is SUPER intelligent, and SUPER political and just plain SUPER! He saves Brian from sexual harassment. He sets of a Gay-Straight Alliance in School. He gets into an Ivy League school. Contrast that with Nathan in QAFUK. 15, a walking hormone, not too bright, but not too stupid, just figuring out how to use his body to manipulate and completely in lust with Stuart. The character is so much richer and more interesting, his blunt inarticulateness a major part of his charm. This is even reflected in the differing styles of actors – Randy Harrison is poised, polished and far too knowing. Charlie Hunnam is rougher, less skilled but his teenage directness is perfect for the character and he actually handles some of the subtler stuff with a m,uch more natural grace.

Or lets look at the character of Debbie/Hazel, the fag-hag mother of Michael/Vince. In QAFUK, Hazel is a vibrant, three-dimensional character, brilliantly played by Denise Black. She is broad, stereotypical, and hovers dangerously close to parody at times. But she is also the bright, beating soul of the show. She’s too far down to earth to offer platitudes, and her performance during the after-party scene with Aiden Gillen is a beauty. Contrast that with Debbie, as played by Cagney and Lacey legend Sharon Gless. Not only is she rotten in the role, over-playing it in every way that Black knew to underplay, but the character has been re-concieved as the Font of Wisdom and its a role that routinely kills both the drama and comedy.

QUAFUS obviously wants to be a gay Sex and the City. It has a very similar glossy aesthetic, which feels plastic and fake after the much grittier gloss of the original. But we already had a gay Sex and the City – it was called Sex and the City and despite the four females in the lead, it was about as brilliant a gay sitcom (with far more developed dramatic beats) as you could have asked for. QUAFUK worked because it told a pretty universal emotional story through the prism of its gay characters. QUAFUS is much more interested in the trappings of modern gay life and less interested in how these trappings are seen by gay people. Thats why I thought it felt like a gay drama written by straight people. Its obsessed with what makes gay people different but examines them in the least subtle way.

The perfect example of this is how the issue of HIV and sexual health is handled. In QUAFUK it's in the background, just a general part of the character’s lives without it having to be made a big deal. QUAFUS has to make a big deal of it from the first episode, and repeatedly afterwards. It has a pretty shitty view of HIV issues, which is dealt with in an episode which borders on the offensive.

So does anything work? Well, the men are much hotter, in that very plastic American way. It doesn’t shy away from being explicit which I am glad to see (you definitely see more and more varied flesh in this show). The attempt to develop Lyndsey and Melanie as a couple are welcome (if as ham fisted as everything in the show). Despite the show having a much more arch and sitcommy dialogue, it can be very funny. And Peter Paige is a delight throughout as the ‘camper’ of the friends.

But despite this, the show just isn’t very good. Brian and Michael are pale, flat imitations of Stuart and Vince. The writers lack all of the individuality, warmth and skill that Davies brought to QAFUK. And yet here I am, 17 episodes in and still watching.

Update OK, I forgive QAFUS a little because it just had a scene with Emmet that was a beautiful piss-take on the first meeting in the school dance between Tony and Maria in West Side Story. Hilarious. In fact, the more surreal moments with Emmet work really well (such as the episode where he was stalked by his online profile) and the show might be stronger if it followed those instincts more oftenm

Alice in Blunderland

2010-03-11T15:09:00.000-08:00

I am a defender of Tim Burton’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. With the exception of the Oompah Loompahs, I think the film is superior in almost every way to the Gene Wilder version. The design work is marvellous, the script is darkler, funnier and more inventive, yet still emboduies the spirit of Dahl’s story better then the original film. And the acting, from the entire cast is just note perfect, including a fantastic, very specific performance from Depp that I think is one of his strongest.

This is a slight preamble to say that I was pre-disposed to liking Burton’s Alice in Wonderland. It seemed like a good fit for all involved and my interest went up several fold when I heard that this wasn’t a straight re-tread of the book but was something of a sequel/reimagining of the original material. I have had Frank Beddor’s The Looking Glass Wars sitting on my shelf unread for about three years and this seemed like an equally interesting take on Carroll’s brilliant story. Although I wasn’t all that enthused by some of the design which had been released, I still held out hope.

Well, I was spectacularly wrong.

This is an example of a film in which almost every single artistic decision was a mistake. This script is an appalling piece of wanky fantasy hog-wash. It completely misses the charm and intelligence of the original Alice material, and instead turns it into another ‘Prophesised Hero’ storyline that is almost completely at odds with the spirit of the original books. I could, perhaps, have forgiven this blundering plunder of such a wonderful source material if Linda Wioolverton had managed to craft something witty or exciting. But her writing is spectacularly incompetent, layering ridiculous plot contrivances on top of pathetic dialogue and completely inept attempts at characterisation. The film is nothing but a re-hash of Hook, and as despised as that film is, it at least shows a glimmer of understanding about what makes the original Pan stories work. Compare Alice to PJ Hogan's magnificent Peter Pan from 2003 for an example of just how to get this type of complex material to work.

I’m not going to rabbit on about this too much. Of the actors, only Helena Bonham Carter really registers (and Johnny Depp in particular is terrible – a career nadir for him in which he doesn’t seem to have a single interesting moment in the entire film). The design is ugly and squalid and the finale pathetically undercooked. It’s the worst film I have seen in a long time and I would politely suggest thast Burton take a break from directing for a while because it seems clear that he needs to refresh his obsessions.

The Princess and the Frog

2010-02-23T04:27:00.000-08:00

Because I am still trying to get my head around A Single Man, I thought I would post a few thoughts on The Princess and the Frog, Disney’s attempt to re-energise their hand-drawn animation division.

I have always adored Disney’s animated films. Memories of them go down deep – Peter Pan is the first film I remember seeing in the cinema. Pinocchio, Sleeping Beauty, The Jungle Book, Alice in Wonderland, Bambi… I can remember each of these films intimately. I think their late 80s to mid 90s renaissance was an astonishingly successful creative run. Beauty and the Beast and Aladdin are two of my favourite films – both of them are wonderful musicals, with great characters, and a great balance between drama, romance and comedy. Even in its twilight years, Disney could still pull off a wonderful piece of entertainment like Lilo and Stitch and criminally under-rated The Emperor’s New Groove.

I went in to The Princess and the Frog (hereafter referred to as TPATF) with high hopes, especially after the generally excellent reviews from the States. So it is with the tiniest bit of regret that I say that I wasn’t quite as blown away by the film as I hoped to be. It was surprisingly well written, featured some fantastic voice work and is one of the most beautifully animated films I have seen in years, but it feels like its missing some element that would elevate it to more than the sum of its parts.

A few quick notes;

- The central couple of Tiana and Prince Naveen is one of the most appealing in any of Disney’s films. Both characters are well written, have a believable and interesting dramatic arc and more importantly, fall in love for reasons other than “the script says so”. This has often been a problem with traditional Disney princess films which tended to bland out the male lead in particular. Tiana and Naveen reminded me of Beauty and Beast and Aladdin and Jasmine in the equitable way that their characters are treated by the film.

- While not exactly emphasising Tiana’s poverty, the film does an effective job of highlighting the very real economic and class distinctions which prevent Tiana from realising her ambition and potential. What the film doesn’t really address is race – it tends to use class as a signifier instead, which is understandable if also cowardly and unrealistic.

- The voice work is, as in most Disney films, first rate. The supporting roles are hugely entertaining. I particularly loved Jennifer Cody as Charlotte, who gave a breathlessly entertaining whirlwind of dizzy blond ambition. However, it's Anika None Rose, who was unfairly over-shadowed in Dreamgirls, who deserves the most praise and gives one of the strongest female vocal performances in any Disney film.

- Disney gets scary again – its about time. Dr Facilier and his Voodoo shadows are actually really creepy and recall such memorable Disney villains as Maleficent and Ursula.

- The two areas that the film stumbles on are the music and the comedy. Randy Newman’s score has some nice tunes, but I couldn’t hum a single melody coming out of the film and the lyrics are particularly weak. The animators make a huge effort to spice up the big production numbers with some gorgeous visuals, but they can’t do much with the actual score. Likewise, the comedy is surprisingly weak, despite the strength of the voice cast. I think it’s these two elements which prevent TPATF from soaring to the same heights as the greatest of the 90s output.

Despite these caveats, if you love Disney and love the art of animation, I think its definitely worth seeing the film. The Little Mermaid had a lot of problems too, but it still worked, and more importantly, paved the way for a significant advance with Beauty and the Beast. I think the elements that work for TPATF are those which are the hardest to get right, and I really hope that John Lasseter (aka The Pixar Genius) continued to develop the work of the hand drawn division at Disney

Assisted suicide in the time of AIDS

2010-02-19T04:00:00.000-08:00

I’ve been trying to process the whole Ray Gosling thing for the last couple of days – it troubles me in all sorts of ways.

Ray Gosling is a former TV presenter who, while appearing on a regional BBC show called Inside Out, revealed that he had smothered a male lover of his who was suffering from advanced stage AIDS in the late eighties. He refused to divulge any other details about the man, apart from claiming that it was done in a hospital, with the apparent tacit consent of a doctor and that it was because of a pact he made with the man that each would do the same if the other were in extreme pain and suffering. Gosling was arrested by police earlier in the week who held him on suspicion of murder and released him on bail last night.

This case obviously throws up an enormous amount of questions and issues, none of which Ray Gosling seems particularly interested in answering. He claims that he would never reveal the identity of the man (even “under torture”) but did characterise his relationship with him as just a “bit on the side”. The social pariah status accorded to those who suffered in this time should not be forgotten – not only were these men and women generally members of a marginalised and oppressed minority, but the disease itself was the subject of a constant stream of sickening and lurid stories from a frothing tabloid press. I am willing to bet that there were many men who faced the decision during the horror of the early years of the AIDS epidemic to end the life of a friend or partner who was in agony. It would not have been surprising if there were many ‘mercy killings’ during this time, and in circumstances where the immediate family would either be unwilling or unable to be included in the decision.

So, broadly, I would respect Mr Gosling’s decision. I believe that some form of euthanasia should be legalised – that it should be fully consensual and strictly controlled. This matters more to me than you might realise and the particular case of Gosling obviously hits very close to home.

Yet, there is something about this particular case which just smells funny. Firstly, Gosling seems to have revealed this on the spur of the moment without any thought to the consequences. He apparently did not think that there would be much of a fuss, which seems silly as he was admitting to a fairly serious crime that had received a huge amount of press attention recently due to several high profile cases and convictions. I don’t really fault the police here – Gosling admitted to helping to kill a man (whatever the circumstances) which is something they are duty bound to investigate. I doubt it will go much further, but they were put in a pretty awful position.

Secondly, Gosling’s characterisation of his relationship with the dead man as his “bit on the side”. There is something a little creepy and wrong about using such dismissive terms about a man you were supposed to be so close to that he would ask you to help him end his life. I would imagine that one of the reasons that those who support the concept of assisted suicide are reticent about coming to the defence of Gosling is that we have nothing but his word about the consent that was given for this action. The fact that he was smothered also inevitably brings up questions. Smothering would likely leave a pretty good indication that death was not caused by the disease. Would the tacit acceptance of one doctor be enough to prevent an investigation?

I don’t want to impugn the motives of Gosling for this revelation. It’s not like the man has a book to sell or a new programme to launch. But I can’t help thinking why he decided that now was the time to reveal it, and then to be so selective about the details that he does reveal. It does nothing to help the cause of those fighting for the right to end their lives with dignity, and creates a world of trouble both for him and the police.

In The Independent, Matthew Norman speculated that Gosling was really talking about the death of Gosling’s long-term partner Bryn Allsop of pancreatic cancer in 1999, and that this may have been a roundabout way of confession to helping to end Allsop’s life. He also charges forward in defending Gosling;

What, asked Miss Montague, gave him the right? "Human... rights," he answered. "I'm sorry.... If it happens to a lover or a friend of yours, a husband or a wife, I hope it doesn't... but when it does, sometimes you have to do brave things, and say, to use Nottingham language, bugger the law." What a glorious expression of personal liberty that is. What magnificent boldness publicly to make releasing another from unimaginable pain a noble act of civil disobedience as well as of mercy.

I’m not sure I buy this and it certainly isn’t as clear cut as Norman seems to believe. He ignores what could be the very relevant particulars in this case; of how consent is obtained and who should be trusted in each situation. If Gosling’s story is true as he describes it, then the most important voice in all of this, the man who tragically dies, the “bit on the side”, is silent. We can never find out the true situation.

Press Complaints Commission FAIL

2010-02-18T02:23:00.000-08:00

Fucking Hell

I’m sorry, I know I have been using less than delicate headlines lately on my blog, and I had promised myself that I wouldn’t do this again. But that is the only reaction that could properly sum up my feelings to the news that the Press Complaints Commission haven’t seen fit to issue the mildest of rebukes to Jan Moir for her poisonous, homophobic and nasty column on the death of Stephen Gately.

It’s worth going back a little and reading exactly what Jan Moir wrote about Gately. Moir. Aside from completely dismissing the evidence of the coroner’s report that Gately died of natural causes, Moir talked about the "ooze" of "dangerous lifestyles" which “seeped out for all to see”. She followed this up with the following quote;

"Gay activists are always calling for tolerance and understanding about same-sex relationships, arguing that they are just the same as heterosexual marriages. Not everyone, they say, is like George Michael. Of course, in many cases this may be true."

…followed by

"Another real sadness about Gately's death is that it strikes another blow to the happy-ever-after myth of civil partnerships."

(h/t Malcolm Coles)

Now seriously, we’re all adults here. The PCC is made up of media professionals. They know precisely about using dog whistles to attack a subject while appearing to be in full concern troll mode. Moir is clearly trying to use Gately’s death (and the previous suicide of Matt Lucas’ partner) to slander all gay relationships as inherently sleazy and tragic. No amount of mealy-mouthed qualifiers can change the toxic homophobia of that column.

What followed was an enormous storm of protest, which extended right across to Europe and America. Moir’s article was passed around blogs, websites and Twitter. Hundreds of thousands of people read that article who would not normally have read the glorified fish and chips wrapping that is the 21st century Daily Mail. Tens of thousands of people, including Gately’s husband complained. This wasn’t a mob out for Moir’s blood – this was a group of engaged citizens who were disgusted at her vile attack on Gately, his family and millions of gay people in loving relationships. There was hardly a single serious media commentator who didn’t think that Moir had crossed a line. That this is par for the course for the Mail and its ilk is no longer an excuse. Moir can bleat on all she likes about freedom of expression, but it cuts both ways. She doesn’t get the right to slime a dead man and skip away free from criticism.

So, 25,000 people complained to the PCC. Their verdict is yet another example showing what a spineless piece of shit the self-regulator has become. Despite the quotes from the article above, the PCC claimed that;

While many complainants considered that there was an underlying tone of negativity towards Mr Gately and the complainant on account of the fact that they were gay, it was not possible to identify any direct uses of pejorative or prejudicial language in the article

Seriously, are they fucking kidding me? They read that article and couldn’t discern that Moir’s attacks on civil partnerships were an attack on gay couples? Civil partnerships are this country’s compromise for not offering gay people full marriage equality. Everybody knows they are only open to gay people. This is about the least subtle dog whistle you can imagine. Not to mention her constant stream of thinly veiled swipes about Gately’s homosexuality (“he could barely carry a tune in a Louis Vuitton trunk").

It’s worth noting here that the PCC, as I mentioned above, is a self-regulator. It is made up of the very media figures and owners that people will be complaining about. Paul Dacre, the loathsome editor of the Daily Mail and Moir’s boss is actually head of the PCC’s Editor’s Code of Practice (which just makes me want to cry). Baroness Buscombe defended the ruling by saying that columnists had to be free to print material which may appear to be distasteful or challenging to readers.

That is clearly not what Moir did. Moir decided to ignore the facts of the case as established by the coroner’s report in order to imply that it was Gateley’s lifestyle (ie his gayness) which caused his death. I would argue that it was linking the death of Matt Lucas’ partner which should have been the final nail in her coffin. There was no reason to include him unless she were looking to make a point about gay civil partnerships in general.

I think there is something deeper going on here and it is well articulated by Anton Vowl. I happen to suspect that this complaint may actually have been upheld if it had not been generated by outrage on social networking sites. I think this was the PCC circling the wagons against the type of user-generated storm that can easily erupt now when an article touches a deep nerve within people. Moir’s spitefulness and homophobia, wedded to the death of a much-loved pop star, released at a time when the ability for people to share articles and encourage action is at its highest created a perfect set of circumstances and a real challenge to the PCC. I think they failed spectacularly and have done more to undermine their own organization and the concept of press self-regulation than any other issue in the last couple of years.

Update
Its worth noting just quickly the context of Moir's remarks. At the time, there was a spate of hate crimes directed at gay people around the UK, with one older man being kicked to death by a gang of teenagers in Trafalgar Square. There was a pretty clear continuum between the type of gentle but still pernicious homophoboa that Moir demonstrates and the violent attacks on gay people. But the PCC likes to think that freedom of expression exists in some kind of apolitical bubble. Idiots.

"My Hammer is My Penis"

2010-02-17T06:48:00.001-08:00

This, my friends, is the new Greatest Quote of All Time.

As said with exquisite comic timing by Captain Hammer to his lovelorn arch nemesis Dr Horrible, it may be the crowning achievement in Nathan Fillion’s under-valued but wonderful career so far.

I don’t know why it took so long for me to see Dr Horrible’s Sing Along Blog. I mean this is a Joss Whedon musical. The last Joss Whedon musical was so good, I cried a little while watching it (and am secure enough in my masculinity to admit that). It stars Nathan Fillion who really can do no wrong at this stage. And while I have never seen How I Met Your Mother, I have always admired Neil Patrick Harris as a thoroughly modern gay celebrity. Like Ellen and Portia de Rossa, there is something refreshingly ordinary about his success and his gayness which probably does more to help kids come to terms with their sexuality than any number of earnest platitudes.

Yet I only for to see it for the first time last night. Dr Horrible isn’t perfect. I found the time constraints to be particularly irritating – each act is less than a quarter of an hour long which means that brevity is one of the show’s main characteristics. This plays very well for the comedy and musical sequences, but it’s a problem for the more dramatic and romantic elements of the story. The turn into darker territory in the end could have used some more time to develop, as could the earlier scenes between Horrible and Penny which sets up Horrible’s desire for her. Just making her sweet and nice to the homeless isn’t quite enough to sell the tragedy of the last act.

This is sort of important, but they ensure Dr Horrible is only a minor piece of brilliance in the Whedon pantheon. But minor key Whedon is still better then most of the shite out there and as a piece of short-form storytelling, Dr Horrible is certainly a weirdly perfect incapsulation of much of what makes Whedon worthwhile. It is consistently funny, likes to mess with genres to create something organic and sweet and it is a constant whirling-dervish of invention. Whedon writes great dialogue, he always has, but there is something surreally wacky about the elements of the Dr Horrible plot which display a new side to his writing. He takes the idea of a deconstructed comic hero-world and twists and enriches that vision with additions from Python, musical romance and soap opera.

And the cast… oh lordy the cast is wonderful. Felicia Day is luminous as Penny – it’s a shame that she isn’t given much to work with (this is one of the very rare instances of a Whedon show where the female role feels distinctly undercooked). Nathan Fillion looks like he is having insane amounts of fun as Captain Hammer. He gets most of the really funny lines and it helps that with his square jaw and (ahem…) rippling muscles, he looks like he stepped out of an old-fashioned comic book.

And as Dr Horrible, Neil Patrick Harris took the slightly under-written elements of the plot and characters and sells them completely. He is funny, sad, romantic – he sings, he dances, and he takes a beating with aplomb. He proves himself a natural at Whedon’s particular brand of stylised dialogue and he is spectacularly good at the pissy, dead-pan humour of Dr Horrible’s blog entries.

Harris is a rarity – one of the very few publicly out actors who has continued to have a thriving career playing very straight roles. Perhaps it is the public’s memory of him Dougie Howser and the affection they feel towards his sitcom stardom which makes this possible. But his class, and talent are hugely important in their own ways to helping breaking barriers and misconceptions about the ability of gay actors to become genuine stars.

I am still slightly unsure if this is the marker for a new way of artists working cooperatively. One of the aspects of Whedon’s creative career which I have always liked is how he seems to gather about him a large group of collaborators that follow him from project to project. With Dr Horrible, you have a some of his ex-writing staff making cameos all over the place. Both Fillion and Day have worked with Whedon before. It’s produced by James Contner. His brothers worked on the music and script. You see the same thing in Dollhouse. I don’t know why, but the idea that Whedon honours those who have helped him, and that he remains in this kind of contact with them is the sort of thing which makes me feel all the more thankful towards the end product. That he financed it himself and then shared the profits with cast and crew, just gives me warm and fuzzies..

I would be fearful for Whedon that if he started to go down this path it would further ghettoise him as a niche artist. I he has never quite been a JJ Abrams type, and his experiences with Network television haven’t been smooth, but Buffy and Angel became pop cultural phenomenons that expanded far beyond their initial viewings. I am not quite sure if the web would provide the same opportunities, particularly with the ADD way we all tend to consume media online. Dr Horrible already felt slightly constrained by the brevity of form – I want to see an expanded Dr Horrible world, not another few episodes chopped to fit into short bursts.

But that’s just me. I am greedy when it comes to Whedon’s work.

PS - SpellCheck weirdness – whenever I type Whedon in MSWord, it wants to change it to Théoden. Considering I have just finished the Helms Deep section of Two Towers, this tickled me.

PPS – If anybody wants to buy me a Captain Hammer t-shirt, I will love you long time

Pausing at the edge of Fangorn Forest

2010-02-15T05:35:00.000-08:00

I am slightly ahead of schedule with the Lord of the Rings. I had given myself until the end of this weekend to reach the breaking of the fellowship at the end of book two but I was too engrossed in the whole thing and flew right into The Two Towers at some point yesterday afternoon. I am now with Merry and Pippin and the Ents, staring down at the murk of Isengard.

I think most people would agree that Fellowship is clearly the best of the books. Tolkien is obviously in complete romantic abandon with the world of The Shire, the Old Forest, The Barrow Downs, Bree and Rivendell. The pace quickens once the Fellowship is formed, but it feels organic as the story turns into a propulsive set of confrontations; The Fellowship v Caradhras, Gandalf v The Balrog, Frodo v Galadriel and finally, and most tragically, Frodo and Boromir. And while the second half of the book was as fresh and vivid as I remembered, I found the early part of the journey, up to the Weathertop to be much more immersive and entertaining this time round.

I think this is a function of being so familiar with the films. In Fellowship, the events after The Council of Elrond follow the course of the novel pretty closely. The deepest cuts are in the earlier part of the journey, and its not just Tom Bombadil. For example, I had forgotten how eerie and tense the whole Barrow-Wight section was (and am sorry to never get the chance to see Jackson visualise that section). And the development of the bond amongst the hobbits is also something which is sort of ‘assumed’ in the film, but is a delight to follow. This isn’t a case of the novel necessarily being better – due to length, the film had to often work in shorthand. Luckily the actors were excellent and had enough chemistry as a group to sell you their bond without it needing to be spelt out.

One of the areas that feels strange in the book is the lengthy time-frames. Once Gandalf confirms that Bilbo’s ring is the One Ring, the film barrels forward with breathtaking momentum, pausing briefly for breath at Rivendell and Lothlorien, but otherwise driving relentlessly forward to its epically emotional climax with the death of Boromir. The book… not so much. For a start, about 17 years or so passes between Bilbo and Frodo’s departure. And even when Frodo learns about the One Ring, he still takes months to leave The Shire. I think this is a story point which Tolkien never finds a particularly good excuse for – the idea that Frodo has to be careful about just disappearing is pretty weak tea when it’s the Root of All Evil that is in his possession. The delay doesn’t serve any kind of story function and really makes Gandalf and Frodo look more than a little idiotic. Though this doesn’t take away form how enjoyable the story is when Frodo finally decides to leave The Shire, it does make the opening a little clunky.

I was also sort of surprised at how the novel, and in particular the dialogue stood up. I don’t think anybody would argue with the idea that he isn’t the world’s most elegant writer of dialogue. It’s often stiff and bland, particularly with some of the more noble characters of high-born Elves (who I find tiresome and dull). Tolkien is at his best when writing Bilbo, Gandalf or Sam – they seem to have the more character and life to them then anybody else. But despite the fact that his style has been imitated and hilariously parodied for almost half a century now, The Lord of the Rings manages to flat above the fray – there is an aura of complete self-possession about the book which make it very easy to get swept by. Tolkien’s own deadly-serious belief actually works in the books favour – it gives it the feeling of revealed history rather than silly fantasy and allows the reader to glide past the awkward plotting and dodgy episodes (Tom Bombadil is just as irritating as I remembered).

Finally, its also clear what an amazing adaptation the movie was. It keeps the emotional and spiritual core of each character, deftly weaves in monumental amounts of exposition and still makes for a hugely exciting and ultimately heart-breaking journey. Jackson, Walsh and Boyens knew perfectly which of Tolkien’s dialogue needed to be kept and the subtle manoeuvrings of plot and character elements is beautifully done.

Onward to Rohan, Helms Deep and Emyn Muil

Homo-Manogamy?

2010-02-12T13:21:00.000-08:00

Every group, no matter how it defines itself, has a couple of elements that they don't consider it polite to talk to an 'outsider' about. Generally these are quirks, foibles or inclinations which set them apart from what is perceived as the 'norm' in society, and which has often been used as a way for that group to be attacked.

For example, Ta-Nehisi Coates, one of the very best bloggers out there, has often written movingly about the conflicts within the larger American black community and the difficulty of airing those conflicts, which encapsulate class, race and gender, in the glare of the disapproval or bigotry of the white population.

For the gay community, one of those 'unmentionables' is monogamy, specifically (and I am probably laying myself open to all sorts of biases here) gay male monogamy. It's no secret that one of the claims that gets thrown round about gay men all the time is that they are incapable of forming deep, emotional bonds with one another – that their relationships are based on nothing but sweaty sinful fucking and therefore they don't deserve the respect that 'normal' straight couples are accorded. Marriage is too 'sacred', even in its civil state, to be sullied with the association of a little groom on groom action.

The thing is, there is a much wider and more accepting attitude towards open relationships in the gay community. I think this is a healthy thing – the open relationships that I know of tend to be stronger, more trusting and more likely to last then the closed ones. I realise that this is not a hard and fast rule, but I think that many straight relationships would benefit from being more honest about their desires. I think a good open relationships forces all parties to be more honest about their emotions and desires.

Remember, I said that a 'good' open relationship works that way. By good, I mean one that is based on trust, respect, decent communication and love. It can help to remove the pressure that sex can often create between two people and allow something deeper to develop.

Clearly though, this isn't for everybody, or even for most people. The idea of a one true love that you can share your physical and emotional life with is too ingrained in our culture. The disapproval and even disgust that these couples will inevitably encounter if they 'come out' as being in an open relationship will also be painful.

The prevalence of couples who sleep with people outside the relationship or marriage within the gay community is not something that we like to talk about in polite society. That's because so many of the fights that we are currently engaged in come down to trying to pass as 'normal', And normal in this case isn't exactly normal within the gay community (which would mean acknowledging a more diverse ran ge of relationship options) but normal as prescribed by the more conservative straight elements in society. There are a lot of people within the gay community who believe that the fight for marriage equality is a sad attempt to ape a tradition which is based to some degree on oppression.

I think this is blinkered view but it gets at the complexities that the marriage debate throws up within the gay community, complexities which many straight people either wouldn't understand or would use against all gay people in an attempt to deny them equal civil rights. So we like to keep these debates on the down low and pretend that we really are the same. When I honestly don't think that we are, at least not at this stage. The legacy of the closet overshadows everything.

This was prompted by a post at Box Turtle Bulletin about a piece of research which was reported as proving the existence of widespread open relationships amongst gay people (not a total shock) snd which was picked up by the religious right and used to demonise all gay couples and argue against gay marriage (also not a shock). So this will once again mean that the debates will go underground, 'just between friends', and it poisons the well for promoting more honest dialogue which could also help straight couples.

This post had a point – good luck finding it

Comfort Reading

2010-02-10T13:19:00.000-08:00

This is a bit of a difficult and stressful week for me. I have two interviews (one of which was today and the other on Friday), both for jobs I really want. One of them even includes an exam, something I thought I was done with a long time ago. I am using parts of my brain this week that I mothballed sometime in 2003.

With that in mind, I knew I wouldn't be much good in trying to take on a new book this week. Even though I currently have Wolf Hall, A Little Stranger, Nixonland and The Gun and the Olive Branch all sitting by my bedside table begging to be read, I have chosen instead to immerse myself into re-reading The Lord of the Rings. This is the ultimate in comfort reading.

I first read LotR when I was 12. I needed a book to do my first book report in English when I started secondary school. Goaded on by my brother and dad, I decided to read LotR in two weeks. Predictably, I didn't actually sleep for that entire fortnight. It was worth it however when I presented my English teacher with a 40 page fully illustrated and bound book report, earning her eternal devotion as a teacher, and my classmates eternal derision. Pretty much from that moment on, I was tagged the class swot.

Luckily, the horror of secondary school fades after a bit, and I am still left with a life-long love of LotR. I can still remember the feverish intensity with which I read it the first time and the unadulterated pleasure of re-reading it many times since. It's been a while since I read the entire thing in one go - I have often just picked up one of the books, or read certain sections. The last time I read the whole book was abut seven or eight years ago when I was ill over Christmas (and yes that does include the Introduction and Appendices!).

For me, its like a warm blanky, the same way that I feel about the films. That's not to say I consume it passively. I am already at Weathertop with Frodo, Strider and the other hobbits and I have barely been able to put it down. Its fun also to read it with the films so firmly ingrained in my mind, to wonder once more at the incredible job that Jackson and Co did in adapting the books. I picture the actors in my head now as I read, but this hasn't narrowed my enjoyment of the books, but made them more vivid and enjoyable.

I will probably wrap up the Fellowship sometime at the weekend when I may get the chance to write a longer piece before delving into The Two Towers. Its one of the few things that has successfully distracted me from the job hunt.

I want to see this film NOW

2010-02-09T04:23:00.000-08:00

This sounds absolutely fantastic.

Steven Sodebergh is directing a film called Contagion which is sort of like Traffic mixed with Crisis in the Hot Zone (one of my favourite ever non-fiction books). It stars Matt Damon, Marion Cotillard, Jude Law, and My Straight Wife, Kate Winslet.

Luckily, knowing the speed that Soderbergh works at, this should be out in about 4 weeks time

Precious

2010-02-08T05:29:00.001-08:00

I think I am still trying to process Precious. It’s not a film that I had an instinctive reaction to once it finished. I was curiously inarticulate with my friends afterwards about how I felt about it, and I am not sure, 2 days later, if I have really figured it out.

This is a film whose raw elements work brilliantly. Mo’Nique is as good as I have been hearing for close to a year now. She is terrifying in the film – her scenes were some of the tensest, most unpleasant things I have sat through in a long time, mostly because she was utterly convincing and real. I was expecting her to be much louder, more extreme presence but her quieter, more contained venom was much more chilling.

Her big break-down scene is an excellent example. I figured this would be the moment where the film would try to ‘humanise’ her, make her a bit more sympathetic. To some extent it did, but not in the way I was expecting. Mary starts out trying to sound contrite about how she has treated Precious, but under the relentless prodding from Mariah Carey’s special worker Ms Weiss, she breaks down and explains exactly why she allowed Precious to be abused by her father and why she herself then continued the abuse. It’s a terrifying, sad, pathetic scene and Mo’Nique is fearless, laying bare this woman’s twisted, ugly soul, making her both more believable and more shocking. She deserves every single award she has received for her work.

The rest of the cast aren’t too shabby either. Gabby Sidibe gives one of those performances which doesn’t feel like acting so much as simply being. The fact that she is nothing like Precious in real life is just a marker of the brilliance of her work. Paula Patton is lovely, grounded and sincere as Ms Rain but she has one of the more problematic roles (more on that later). Mariah Carey has received a lot of enthusiastic reviews, and while I think she is does good work, the role itself doesn’t really go anywhere.

I do want to give a special mention to the actresses who play Precious’ classmates. Whoever put that group together should get a special award – what a superb bunch of performers. Effortlessly natural and funny, they made the film a much warmer and funnier experience than I expected. And Lenny Kravatz looks very pretty…

Director Lee Daniels ramps the melodrama up pretty high (a friend of mine called it bathos and I think that’s a perfect description). He gets a lot of mileage out of rubbing our noses into the grime of Precious’ life but I actually think this is quite honest in its own way. Melodrama wants to evoke strong emotions in people and I respect his stylistic decision. I think he mostly manages to stay on the right side of sentimentality throughout, and he generates some pretty unbearable tension in the scenes with Mo’Nique. More than that, Daniels seems to love all his characters – he likes to hang out with them, especially the girls in the class scenes and this lends the film a vibrancy and humanity that helps it overcome some of the trickier tonal inconsistencies.

Because those inconsistencies are right there in the script. I haven’t read Sapphire’s novel and I have no idea how close to reality the film is. But we should be clear about one thing – this is a film, a piece of fiction and as such, it should be judged about how well it shapes its material. I think it is all a bit of a mess, veering quite wildly between horror, goofy comedy, inspirational drama and intense tragedy. Some of these parts work much better than others. Anything with Mo’Nique is superb and the scenes between the girls in the classroom have an easy, unforced warmth. But the character of Blu Rain, as played by Paula Patton, seems to have been dropped in from another film. I don’t deny that great teachers like her exist, but her dialogue was often trite and ridiculous and the film suddenly seemed a bit like typical Hollywood schlock. This inconsistency didn’t really bother me as I was watching the film but I think it did contribute to my ambivalence about the ending.

There has been a lively debate about the film, the most recent being David Cox’s screed published in The Guardian. I think Cox is wildly over the top in denouncing the film, and is guilty himself of the same crime he accuses other viewers of, of universalising Precious’ experiences to all poor black people. I don’t doubt that there are people out there who will sit in smug satisfaction in the cinema while their worst prejudices about tenement life are realised. I don’t think this is fair – the film never tries to portray Precious as emblematic of an entire gender, race or social class. Her life is too specific for that and I don’t think the filmmakers should be criticised for the reaction of lazy, selfish viewers.

For me, there was nothing particularly ‘ennobling’ about watching the film. I didn’t get a vicarious thrill out of the grime, sweat, blood and tears. In fact, I got a sense of ultimately how precarious Precious’ hope was at the end of the film. I left the cinema still not quite sure if Daniels intended the final moments as some kind of bitter irony or not. Yes, Precious had faced down her mother, but she was still a poor, ill-educated, HIV positive teenage mum. Her decision to look after her kids seems to have been treated as a brave, necessary decision, but I can’t help agreeing with Ms Rain (in the one bit of complexity her saintly character is allowed) that Precious’ best option was to give the children up for adoption. The HIV situation just seemed thrown out there as well. Considering this was set in 1988, when a HIV diagnosis was still considered a short-term death sentence, the lack of any impact her status, age and education levels would have on her being allowed to keep her kids is a little mystifying.

In Cox’s article, he criticises the film thusly;

The picture painted presents 16-year-old, 25-stone Precious as the victim, not of social and economic conditions, even partially, but solely of the behaviour of her kind. Nonetheless, she must somehow show she can blossom and inspire us. The film-makers don't give her much of a helping hand… Their betters can pity them, but they're required to do little else. Routes out of disadvantage have been made available. Unfortunately, most of those who need them won't be taking them. Still, that's really the fault of their own incorrigibility. What a shame.

I call bullshit on this. I can’t believe that Cox sat through the film and came out thinking that it had not shown exactly how social and economic issues conspired along with the abuse and horror of her own family life, to severely limit Precious’ options. I actually thought that the film was quite subtle about showing the cycle of poverty which conspires to keep women like Precious in ghetto life, without ever feeling like it was a polemic. Either Cox wasn’t paying attention or he went in with his mind already made up.

So yes, I had some quite serious problems with the film. Those problems do become more serious the more I think about them so I can’t really jump on the rave bandwagon. However, I do think it will well worth watching for the strength of the acting and for Daniels go-for-broke direction.

‘Ex-Gay’ is just a funny way of spelling ‘Still Gay’

2010-02-02T05:20:00.000-08:00

I don’t want to keep banging on about gay issues, but there seems to be something of a deluge of stuff at the moment which I think is illustrative of just how important it is for gay people to stop themselves from becoming too complacent about their place in society.

First, we had the British Special Attitudes Survey which said that almost half of those surveyed thought that homosexuality was wrong at least some of the time (see previous posts for more info). Then, The Independent published a report from a gay journalist who went undercover in the burgeoning industry of ex-gay therapies in the UK. Though some of these sessions are apparently are being paid with NHS funding, they are based on either an entirely religious foundation, or use offensive, out-dated and damaging theories which could cause serious mental anguish to those who turn in desperation and unhappiness to their services.

Last year a British Medical Council survey found that 1 in 6 psychiatrists had attempted to change a person’s orientation. This is frightening enough, and becomes more so when coupled with a growing number of charlatans or religious whackos who are out to fleece troubled, vulnerable people or proselytise for their particular brand of sky fairy. These things don’t work, because they are predicated on a view of human sexuality which is completely unrealistic and based on nothing more than prejudice, ignorance and faith.

Finally, we have Pope Razi and Nazi giving his fellow bishops a pep-talk, telling them to stay the course in campaigning against the new Equalities Bill which would seek to extend employment rights to gay people working within the Church. Essentially, if a religious organisation was taking public funding for its work, it would be unable to discriminate on the bounds of orientation except within a very prescribed group (ie priests and bishops). The current Bill is simply trying to further define what these limits are in an effort to avoid costly litigation and give everybody a clearer sense of boundaries.

But that’s not how the Church saw it. In a hysterical, pearl-clutching hissy fit, they made a series of false claims in an effort to whip up public opinion against the Bill, for example, claiming that it would force churches to hire women priests. As a result an amendment was just barely passed in the House of Lords, significantly weakening the Bill with the support of Bishops and despite assurances from legal experts that this was a simple case of clarification to make the situation clearer for all parties.

It seems clear that the various denominations feel that they are increasingly being marginalised in British society. As they shrink down to an ever more conservative and fundamentalist rump, they also appear to become far more politically active, using their power in the House of Lords to vigorously push back against equality legislation, much of it aimed at helping gay people.

If religious denominations want to access public money then they should be made to comply with the laws of the land. If they are so concerned about their freedom of conscience (which often feels like a simple desire to discriminate against those they disapprove of) then they should rely on the donations of their flock to keep them afloat. Religious institutions constantly use the same rhetorical gambit – whining about giving ‘special rights’ to minorities at the expense of their own bigotry, while at the same time insisting on their own ‘special’ place within society.

A good case can be found here. A Christian woman was suspended form her job of teaching maths to seriously sick children because she caused significant distress to a young girl suffering from leukemia. Jones on several occasions tried to push her religion on the girl, even after her parents made it clear that they were a non-religious family. They complained and, instead of speaking to the Council, Jones ran off to the generally loathsome Mail on Sunday to whine and moan. The Mail didn’t bother to check out her story or speak to the family, but merely printed her drama-queen sob story. And the Christian Legal Centre, a group modelled on fundie legal outfits from the States, were only too happy to help Jones peddle her bullshit. Right-wing press, only too happy to play the PC-Gone-Mad card one more time, hyped her lies and distortions.

This is something of a microcosm of what Britain can expect as religious denominations who have more evangelical and fundamentalist collide with an increasingly and openly secular society. Its what happened thought the late fifties and early sixties in the States which led to the flowering of the current Christian Right. I don’t believe that Britain is in that much danger, but we should all certainly get used to treating tales of religious ‘persecution’ with a great deal more circumspection.

Fuck Vanity Fair

2010-02-01T15:00:00.001-08:00

Seriously. Take a look at what Vanity Fair deems as the Fresh Faces of 2010. All young, pretty WHITE women.

And this in a year where two of the most acclaimed performances were given by young black actresses. Zoe Saldana's work arguably matches the historic achievement of Andy Serkis in marrying a new type of technical work with a full blooded emotional heart in the biggest grossing movie of all time. Not only that, but she took on the iconic role of Uhura and made it her own.

Meanwhile Sidibe came out of nowhere and took on a monstrously difficult role with intelligence and empathy. Sidibe, and possibly Saldana could get Oscar nominations tomorrow. But that, apparently, isn't enough to get you on the cover of an edition of Vanity Fair devoted to rising young actresses.

Fuck them and lazy, racist bullshit. I won't be buying the magazine again.

via filmexperience.blogspot.com

Update: Eeewwww... there's even something creepier about this shot then the Aryan 'purity' of the starlets. Vanity Fair refers to them as "dolls"... That is wrong and creepy on so very many levels (not least because of the association in my head with Joss Whedon's Dollhouse). You'd think after the disaster of the Tom Ford cover from a few years ago they might have learned a lesson, but obviously not.

LGBT History Month - A Failure of Imagination

2010-02-01T13:38:00.000-08:00

It's LGBT History Month. I'm sure you're all excited about this.

I always feel slightly conflicted about the Month. I have written repeatedly that the lack of avenues for younger gay people to learn about their history is a major problem. Because of political, social or religious constraints, teachers simply aren't comfortable talking about gay rights as one of the major civil rights movements of the last forty years.

This is changing – schools are being encouraged to be more open and accepting of gay students. Just acknowledging the complexity of human sexuality in schools is a major start to opening up the curriculum to examining how things have changed for gay people over the years and why it is important to continue to be vigilant. After all 36% of people still believe that homosexuality is almost always wrong. That number will only change if people of all ages are exposed to sexual diversity and encouraged to be comfortable with their own desires.

LGBT History Month should be an opportunity to fill in the blanks for gay people of all ages. To learn that their story is not just about oppression and discrimination but also about bravery, generosity and conviction. That there are other heroes apart from Harvey Milk and Oscar Wilde. And more importantly, to educate both gay and straight people that human sexuality is something far more malleable than we like to admit, and that this is something which be encouraging people to explore their sexuality, rather than repressing it.

However, looking over the programme of events in London for this year,. I can't help thinking how parochial, unfocused and small-scale the entire endeavor feels. In past years, I have tended to forgive this. Everything has to start somewhere and I have enjoyed a couple of the events in the past. But I guess I keep on waiting for the Month to step-up and develop into something more ambitious.

This year there are a couple of really interesting looking events – I am particularly looking forward to the programme being offered by THT and the British Library. But the rest of it is seems rather haphazard. Without a strong centralising force, the month just feels like a collection of small scale, quite esoteric little events without any attempt to tell any kind of larger narrative. While I think its a good thing that individual boroughs have the freedom to create their events, you do end up with a much more atomised and diffuse programme. It also leaves very little space for telling less mainstream stories.

If LGBT History Month is ever going to grow, I think there needs to be a stronger, more centralised approach to planning a programme which can run on a larger national or regional basis and which the smaller, more local events can link in to. Pick an overall theme and ask organisations, community groups and individuals to try and link their efforts into this. It would provide a more cohesive programme, which would also provide a clearer focus for larger scale media activities.

A quick example. Gareth Thomas, the Welsh rugby star who recently came out, is the new patron for LGBT History Month. There is also a major event during the month about homophobia in sport. It seems like there is an opportunity here to get a conversation going about areas of modern life which still retain an suffocating accommodation of the closet. Indeed, once you dig around their site, you realize that sport is going to be their major theme in the next few years. But you wouldn't know that from the website, which is the main promotional tool for the Month. It's flat, cheap-looking and exceedingly difficult to navigate around. I realise this is a funding issue, but I find it hard to believe that this is the best that they could come up with (I have worked on a variety of web projects and there are lots of cheap ways of getting decent design and programming).

I don't doubt the hard work that many have done to make the programme as diverse and interesting as possible. But the whole thing stills feels a little half arsed - and that is a real shame

Dancing Queen

2010-01-27T15:00:00.000-08:00

I am terrible at music criticism. I just don't seem to have the genetic code to really look at music and explain why I like and dislike something. Its an incredibly frustrating mental block - sometimes I read a piece that seems to nail so precisely what I love about a song and wish I could write something as precise.

Tom Ewing runs the Popular blog on the site FreakyTrigger, which is dedicated to writing about every UK number 1 in history. He is currently up to The Housemartin's Caravan of Love from 1986, but I wanted to highlight the piece he wrote about Dancing Queen from a while back. This is one of the very few disco pop war-horses which seems to unite everybody in admiration, no matter how grudging. Tom's take, on why the song is so special, really gets to the heart of it;

It’s not envious, or regretful, or bittersweet – it’s a more generous ache, the recognition that “having the time of your life” is literal, that this moment might be as good as it gets, but still being warmed by the moment’s incandescence. “Dancing Queen”, like “Teenage Kicks”, is one of those songs that captures the feeling that being young, dancing, loving is also to be living more intensely and wonderfully than anything else

His blog is defintely worth spending a while flicking through.

Hurray(?!) - only half of Brits think homosexuality is wrong

2010-01-27T13:47:00.000-08:00

So, according to the just released British Social Attitudes Survey, 36% of adults think that homosexuality is always or mostly wrong. When you add in the 10% of those who think that it is rarely wrong, that is almost half of all those surveyed who think that being gay is wrong at least some of the time.

I have read a couple of reports spinning this as good news. After all, 39% said that homosexuality was never wrong. And the number has fallen from 62% since 1983. So, I guess there is room here for a qualified Whoop-de-doo.

Yet I still think that is a very troubling figure, purely because I am not quite sure what more gay people can do to convince that hardline 36% that we are not out to convert children, ruin marriage or destroy society. I realise that this all a matter of time, that eventually those numbers will drop further. But I think there is something pathetic and weak about those who still cling on to those views - a group of self-satisfied, arrogant toss pots who think they have the right to sit in moral judgment on me because of who I love.

I have become addicted to the daily round-ups of the Perry v Schwarzenegger case that is playing out in California at the moment. Briefly, this is the federal challenge to the gay marriage ban that passed in Caliufornia in November 2008. But the case has much larger aspirations, as the plaintiffs, who allege that the ban should be removed because it was based it is discriminatory and irrational, seek to put the entire rationale for homophobia on trial.

Seriously, if you have some spare time, you should peruse the various goings on. Not only does it highlight the vacuity and prejudice of those who funded the campaign to ban gay marriage, it shows precisely how they played on the irrational fears of the general public to enshrine their bigotry. It puts out on display how morally and intellectually bankrupt their opinions are, and it does so in the harsh light of a federal courtroom. If there are people who can read these transcripts, and still believe that there is something inimically wrong with homosexuality and gay marriage, then frankly these are people who simply do not deserve the vote.

True Colours Part 2

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

I think I was a little flip and dismissive in my last post about Cameron and the Torys. Terms like 'Cameron's Chronies' just roll off the tongue and I am naturally sympathetic towards the motivations of Labour or the Lib Dems (less so when it comes to Labour in the last few days, I have to admit).

However, I don't have the visceral hatred that so many of my friends have towards the Torys. There are several reasons for this. Labour is really the only government I have known (apart from the appalling laissez faire shit sandwich that is Fianna Fail in Ireland). My first real political memory is the death of John Smith, the former Labour leader that led to Tony Blaire's ascendancy to the leadership of Labour. I have a very vivid recollection of the day Labour had their landslide and though I think they have made severe errors in the last five years, I still believe they have done a lot of good. I never had to deal with the Conservative dominance of the 80s - the drastic cuts in public services, the constant attacks on minorities, the crass elevation of "loadsamoney" culture (aided and abetted by the hysterically rightwing tabloid press) and the depressing incoherence of the Labour opposition.

But deeper then these issues was the toxic homophobic environment created by the Thatcher government, once more cheered on by the Murdoch and Mail aixs of evil. The criminal neglect suffered by early AIDS victims, the constant hounding of politicians and celebrities about their orientation, and finally the bullying, sickening Section 28 understandably turned an entire generation of gay people firmly against the Torys. Cameron should never be allowed to forget that he voted for Section 28 - there are thousands of gay people who will certainly never forgive it.

Cameron and the Conservative party have been working hard to over-turn this image. I know from experience that there are a huge amount of gay people who are economically conservative. The only reason they haven't voted Conservative in the past is because it was clear they were unwelcome. Now the Conservatives have started saying all the right things about welcoming gay people openly into their coalition (such as extending proposed tax breaks to gay civil partnerships and saying that children should be taught about gay relationships) there will be a sizeable number of gays who will happily vote for the Torys because of their fiscal plans.

I am not a knee-jerk anti-Tory. I believe the Party has made some genuine strides in the last decade, and instead of sneering at that, it should be welcomed by everybody. Its a big step forward, and anything which increases the diversity of the political landscape is to be applauded. But I suspect that the Torys are probably acting a lot more disciplined then they actually are. You get a sense that the various factions (the social conservatives, the anti-EU crowd etc) are biding their time, realising that they have a golden opportunity to finally end 13 years of opposition if they can just keep the crazy from leaking out too much.

I also really don't trust Cameron and Osbourne's economic plans either. Their reaction to the downturn (ie massive cuts) would have been disastrous, and the more Cameron is forced to offer concrete plans, rather then running as the anti-Labour choice, the weaker and less ready to govern they appear. And as somebody who works in the voluntary sector, I shudder when I think of the problems that a Tory Government could create - a perfect shitstorm between demanding that more is done, and refusing the fund adequately.

As I said earlier, I think the best possible realistic outcome would be a hung Parliament, or one with a miniscule Conservative majority which would force them to ameliroate some of their more extreme plans to win over some of the Opposition. We'll see how it pans out - but either way, I think gay people have come too far down the road to be too badly affected by a Tory win.

His True Colours Shining Through

2010-01-26T06:12:00.000-08:00

I am going to make a timid, not all that controversial prediction about the general election coming up in the next three or four months.

The closer we get to the election, the closer the gap between Labour and Conservatives will become. I don’t doubt that Cameron’s Cronys are going to win, but I think they will end up with a fairly small majority which will make doing anything too controversial quite difficult.

The latest poll form the Guardian shows that while the Conservatives are holding steady, they are still seen by a significant number of people (38%) as being the Party of the rich. This is likely to grow, the closer we come to the election. Labour are failing to capitalise – it’s the Lib Dems who are starting to see their poll numbers creep up. This doesn’t surprise me in the least – the big question is whether or not the Lib Dems can actually make anything of this situation. In a hung Parliament (or one with a very slim majority), they will get an unprecedented opportunity to punch w4ell above their weight and lay the groundwork to become a true alternative to either party.

And yet I feel like we have been here before with the Lib Dems. The party seems to be in an odd position whereby they are constantly for serious discontent with Labour and the Conservatives to provide them with the space to be able to make the positive case for choosing them as an alternative. There was a moment, right around the outbreak of the Iraq war, when popular discontent could have provided the fuel for a genuine populist run by the Lib Dems. But they squandered the opportunity and have been floundering ever since. The elevation of Menzie Campbell to head of the party was a spectacular own-goal that almost drove the party into complete irrelevancy.

Things are once again moving in their direction. Almost everybody wants Labour out, whether for good reasons (“They have run out of steam!”) or bad (“I’m sick of the sight of Gordon Brown”). And while the Conservatives are riding high in the polls at the moment I get the impression that there is still a great deal of uncertainty about them. Cameron and Co have been able to get away with gauzy, I feel your pain rhetoric and vague spending plans for a long time but they are going to have get much more specific in the next couple of months and that will inevitably make people more uncomfortable.

Cuts are going to have to come, we all know this. The party in power, and the size of their majority, will crucially determine the character of those cuts and how deep they go. Cameron’s disdainful and alarming attitude towards fiscal stimulus and his bone-headed faffing about ‘Broken Britain’ feel depressingly familiar. The Lib Dems could exploit this, positioning themselves as a true moderate alternat9ive between the hopelessly compromised Labour and the frightening Conservative dogma.

Vince Cable is one of the most respected politicians in the country. Nick Clegg hasn’t made any major impression, but has room to grow. The series of Party Leader debates could be Clegg’s moment to really sell himself to the country (Cameron’s poor recent performances in the Commons should give Conservatives pause if they think their boy will blow the competition away).

Ideally I guess I would like a hung parliament,. With Lib Dems holding the balance of power. It would be an interesting experiment to see how changed the Conservatives actually are. I also can't help feeling how different the election prospects would be if we had some kind of Proportional Representation, which would show the real diversity of the country and its viewpoints.

You've Got the Drug

2010-01-24T13:22:00.000-08:00

Cover versions of songs get a bad rap - understandably, since most of them tend to be cheap, desperate attempts to use nostalgia to shift a few more copies.

I'm going to say something a little controversial, but I actually prefer Florence and the Machine's version of You've Got the Love. The song has only really exploded in the last month or so, and a lot of my fellow members of the Gay Mafia has sniffly dismissed it as 'not as good as the original'. I disagree. I do really like the Candi Staton original, but I have been bewitched by Florence's version since the first time I heard it a couple of months ago.

A major reason why is just the difference in the vocal styles of Candi and Florence. Florence's voice has a grandeur to it, and it gives the song a dissolute yearning quality which changes the emotional texture of the original song.

I also think the song can very obviously work as a metaphor for addiction; not the amped up hankering you get form coke or speed, but the blissed out nothingness of heroin. Think of the following lyrics;

Sometimes it seems that the going is just too rough
And things go wrong no matter what I do
Now and then it seems that life is just too much
But you've got the love I need to see me through

When food is gone you are my daily meal
When friends are gone I know my savior's love is real
Your love is real

This sounds like a very obvious parallel for somebody who is looking for their next fix as a release from the toil and difficulty of their daily life. In this case, love = a drug, something which gives release from having to care or face anything. It was Florence's delivery of the lyric which made me think of this, that distinctive ache that resonates throughout the song gives it a different colour. To me, the love she seeks is not necessarily a healthy thing. It complicates the song and makes it more resonant.

It really is a text book case of making a song feel fresh and vibrant without fundamentally changing the melody. Beautiful stuff.

Something Wicked(esque) This Way Comes

2010-01-20T10:45:00.000-08:00

So Tim Burton, once he is finished his version of Alice in Wonderland, is going to film Sleeping Beauty. His twist ('cause everybody needs a twist nowadays) is that it will be from the evil fairy Malficent's perspective.

Ahem... Wicked much?

Look, I know Wicked isn't the first piece of pop culture to take a 'What If?' approach to a beloved fairy tale. Nor is is the best. The book suffers from a having a second half that is virtually un-readable, while the show has a similar problem by being incredibly front-loaded with its best songs.

I don't reflexively hate this idea. I have always thought Maleficent is a fantastic villainess. But I don't really care why she is evil, and she certainly doesn't have the impact on pop culture that the Wicked Witch of the West does.

But Wicked is still insanely popular. It has a huge amount of potential to be re-fashioned for the screen in a leaner, funnier and more intense way. Crikey, Glee spent almost an entire episode promoting Lea Michelle as the perfect Elphaba (I have no complaints - she is the right age, has lungs of steel and has a keen intensity to her emoting. With a strong director she could be ace). Just find the right Glinda (a much more difficult prospect) and get it ready for release in the next 2 years or so and it should be about as close to a done deal as possible.

I actually think this is a bit of a spoiler move by Disney - trying to piggy back off the scary legions of Wicked devotees (who I believe could easily rival Twilight's fanbase, notwithstanding the huge cross-over between the two). Universal have been sitting on the rights to Wicked for ages.

At one point Baz Luhrman was due to direct, which could have been awesome. Wicked needs a strong personality, who knows musicals, to give a distinct vision to the film which would be different but complimentary to The Wizard of Oz. The stage show was somewhat successful at this, but the film would need to be much cleverer. I can't think who to suggest, but in my minds eye I would love to see Julie Taymour being given a shot (after she gets done doing her version of Sunday in the Park with George, of course).

The capper to the Chud article linked above is actually worth quoting, since it made me giggle;

The big question is: what role will Johnny Depp play? I honestly wouldn't put it past him to play Maleficent, although he'd probably have to duel Helena Bonham Carter to the death for the right. How can Burton choose between his muses like this?

The Day I Decided that ex-Gays were self-deluding ass holes

2010-01-19T14:41:00.000-08:00

I have been on a bit of a kick the last couple of months reading stuff on gay history. One of the things you come to realise as a young homosexual about to enter the big wide world is that you have to do the leg work yourself to learn about your history. Most of us will never be learn about the development of the gay rights movement – about Stonewall, the first Pride marches, AIDS and Section 28 right up to civil partnerships. They might be mentioned in passing when discussing some other civil rights movement, like feminism or racial equality. I don't mean to sound pissy, like I am taking a score against other groups but because of the usual religious and social attitudes, gay rights is not fit to be taught to all children.

And, lets face it, there aren't that many opportunities to learn about this history after school. You start college, trying to figure out where you are in life. Perhaps you get afraid, disgusted about who you are. Perhaps you find you have more important things, or that it just never seems the right time. Perhaps it embarrasses you, makes you seem to radical and flaky and most of us just want to fit in.

I am sure there are elements of all those behind the reason I never really wanted to know about my gay historical heritage. Its was enough to know for years that there were struggles, there are struggles but things are better.

That has changed in the last few years. Joining Switchboard as a volunteer has given me a keen sense of the horror, abuse, disgust and bewilderment that people of all ages still feel when they start to realise they might be gay or bisexual. They feel lost, alone and abandoned in a world which never really aims to reflect who they are. For me, the stuff I have read has given me a surer sense of myself and where I fit into history. It has given me a stronger sense of my own identity, both as an individual and as a member of a community and has given me a sense of responsibility towards that community.

Kids growing up are still largely denied gay role models, a sense of their place within a continuum that stretched back as far as human history. This matters because by being invisible we continue to keep the closet functioning and alive and allow others to patrol its doors, preventing millions from feeling free, easy and loved.

It is changing now, and rapidly. Gareth Thomas, Donal Og O hAailpin is another of men who have tired of living a lie. They are giving a whole generation of gay children a new perspective on what it means to be gay. It may also nudge them into looking at past heros and heroines who, in some cases, have given their lives to ensure that equality is advanced and the stifiling, stunting nature of the closet is broken down.

This is a long... a very long... preamble into this article – The Day I Decided to Stop Being Gay.

I don't even know where to begin here. This is like Jan Moir's article on speed. Its like the writer took the assumptions of Jan Moir's article and the hooked it up to a nuclear power, zapped it in the balls and then stood back as it mutated into some horrifying monstrous creature.

Lets see what exactly we learn from the article:

Gays can have children (they are sometimes even more that 'lifestyle accessories) but its still a bit icky and definitely not the same as the loving, decent, honorable, caring heterosexuals. He calls it “shooting for the net without running for the ball”. Charming.

Homosexuality is “natural but abnormal”. This is a bit of a strange combination of phrases. It sounds like what he wants to say is that its natural and rare, but rare would imply a level of acceptable and normality while the phrase abnormal allows him to lay the foundation for the idea of gay people as superficial deviants.

Lets look at the following statement;

“Loving your own sex occurs in nature, without artificial triggers. But it is still not average behaviour. Homosexuality is an aberration; a natural aberration. Gays are a minority and minorities, though sometimes vocal, do not hold sway.”

How confused and muddled is this? Homosexuality is once again classed as normal. But its not average. Like red hair perhaps? Or being able to dance well? Or having colour blindness? Its true that gays are a minority. I am confused however about in what way we hold sway? In what way are we oppressing the dominant majority? Because we are looking for equal rights and treatment and refuse to have our lives called sick and monstrous?

Now we start getting to the meat and potatoes of why exactly the writer has decided to stop being gay;

“But two decades of cavorting with my own sex has delivered little that is memorable, except one super-sized sexless friendship with the aforementioned ex-boyf, with whom I spent a decade of my life; numerous hours of internet dating; a dizzying number of casual couplings and a few trips to genitourinary medicine clinics.”

So after 20 years, he has had a few flings and one failed relationship. And some venereal disease. Because of this (which I am sure more than a few straight people could identify with) he has decided that being gay is not for him. Because the sum total of gay life is failed relationships and STIs. Right. And how is this different from what Jan Moir wrote?

Luckily for all of us delicate flowers, he is going to spare us the details of the 'gloaming world' of gay life because we 'simply would not believe what (he has) seen and done'. Aww bless. That doesn't stop him from getting a cheap, nasty shot in at Peter Tatchell however.

Next we have the idea of civil partnerships not being like marriage. No, instead they are elaborate shams for gay men (he rarely if ever mentions lesbians, probably because they wouldn't fit in to his odious stereotyping) to dress up and play house. For a gay man to describe his partner as husband is apparently an insult to the institution of marriage which is there only to rear children. Quick, lets institute a fertility test before all straight marriage and ensure that they are rearing a child within one year or face compulsory divorce!

This isn't even getting in to how utterly fucked up his view on gay life is. Its nothing but sexy, baking, fashion, Barbara Streisand, pink meteors, glitter and cabaret. Now I'm not going to deny that my life often contains main of those things. But that doesn't define who I am. Mr Muirhead seems to define himself by exactly those things. He never seems to have achieved any kind of personal growth or maturity, and instead of looking at himself and why he has allowed this to happen, he blames the gay community.

In the final section, Muirhead talks about how he wants a wife and child to own, and feel dependent on him (now who is desiring a lifestyle accessory Mr Muirhead?). If Muirhead feels so personally inadequate at how his life has turned out, that's one thing. If he has decided to explore another part of his sexuality, then that should be encouraged. But how dare he, how FUCKING dare he pretend like this is anything but his own personal decision. How dare he call into question the relationships I have had, and those of the people I love just so he can make himself feel better.

I won't even go into the creepy paragraph where he talks about needing an 'understanding' wife (I'm sure she'll understand all those late nights at the local cottage - just make sure she can't read your browser's history!).

One of the central points about the struggle for sexual equality is the freedom from the sorts of labels, expectations and stereotypes that Muirhead gleefully, bitterly and shamefully indulges in. His view of gay men as abnormal, superficial deviants is one which would fit right in with The Daily Mail. Yet I fail, completely, to see why this has been featured in The Times.

As I mentioned above, if this was a piece about Muirhead deciding after a long period that he wanted to fully explore his bisexuality, then that could potentially be interesting. As a Switchboard volunteer I often council men and women to think of their sexuality as a continuum. People shouldn't have to feel like they are one label or another, but to go where their heart and/or their loins take them. That is the foundation of the struggle for gay rights, to give people the space to think and feel and realise their full potential. Its a mark of Muirhead's shallowness that he never understood that.

Update

I did something I have never done before - I wrote a letter to the editor to The Times about the article above. I am not sure why this seems to have incensed me so much - a micture of the writer's self-loathing, his bitter tirade against all gay people and his blinkered view that there is a binary choice between them and us.

Anyway, here is the text of the letter;

Dear Sir/Madam

I am writing to you about the January 18th article "The Day I Decided
to Stop Being Gay".
(http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style...)

On the surface, this article seems innocuous. A gay man looks at what
(he presumes) is a straight father and son, and wishes that he could
experience the same. He acknowledges that he has always had feelings
for women, but never had the chance to explore it, which he now wishes
to do. There is nothing controversial in this. Bisexual people will
often movie between a preference for one sex or another at different
parts of their life. This is normal, and could provide the
opportunity for some genuine insight into people's shifting patterns
of desire.

But that is not what Mr Muirhead wrote. Mr Muirhead wrote an article
where he blamed his own failure at finding a fulfilling relationship
on the entire gay community. He claims that gay parents are less than
their straight equivalents ("Shooting for the net without the chore of
running with the ball") and use children as lifestyle accessories,
ignoring the fact that gay parents are proportionally more likely to
foster or adopt troubled young people. He winces when he hears men
who have a civil partnership refer to each other as 'husband' because
this demeans an institution which is based on raising children. This
may be news to the millions of straight people who have married and
who either choose not to or are unable to have children. He calls these
civil partnerships "theatrical shams involving men making a point in
matching wedding cravats, of embarrassed grandparents and monstrously
camp multi-tier cakes", ignoring the countless examples of fulfilling
partnerships with supportive families.

Worse than these sweeping generalisations however is Mr Muirhead's
reduction of the gay male community to a bunch of superficial,
abnormal, glitter and Barabara Streisand obsessed deviants. I'm not
even exaggerating for comic effect. Mr Muirhead even dredges up a
quote from 12th Century England to argue that British people have just
become used to the loathsome nature of homosexuality and therefore
don't treat it with the opprobrium it deserves.

He also entirely mischaracterises the point of the gay rights movement
- which is not about 'special rights' or holding sway or any other
kind of overly-conservative frame. It is about giving people the
space to achieve their fullest potential and love the person they
choose without judgement. Just because Mr Muirhead's own
understanding of this is shallow and nonsensical does not mean that
The Times should tacitly endorse it.

Last year, Jan Moir wrote an article on Stephen Gately's death which
caused the largest number of complaints in the PCC's history. Mr
Muirhead's article is worse, in that he seeks to use a personal sexual
epiphany as an excuse to cast doubt on the viability of gay
relationships and families.

Why then was he given space in The Times to tar an entire community
with his bitter tirade?

StinkyLuLu Supporting Actress Blogathon 2009 - Cruz and Cotillard from Nine

2010-01-18T04:06:00.001-08:00

This is the first year that I have participated in Stinky Lulu's Supporting Actress Blogathon. I am a bit late to the game, and only decided to jump in because nobody seemed to be giving any love to the ladies of Nine.

I can understand it in a way. There is something a little overwhelming about the actresses in Nine. It's Kidman! Cruz! Dench! Cotillard! La Loren! Hudson ( she doesn't get an exclamation point because apart from her amazing work in Almost Famous she has done anything lately to deserve it). Where do you start?

Nine is an odd beast – a film which is intermittently wonderful but never really coheres to be the mighty dramatic musical that it wants to be. In a film filled with problems (the majority of which can be attributed directly to Rob Marshall), the complete hollow center that is Day-Lewis' character and performance is ultimately the biggest hurdle. Everything is geared towards his grand dramatic solo at the end of this film, but it fails utterly to resonate.

But there are two actresses that are practically perfect – two examples of titanic supporting work that could be frozen and preserved in the Smithsonian as specimens for future generations. Both Penelope Cruz and Marion Cotillard end up shouldering the real emotional weight of the film, and do so with such grace and skill that they pierce through Marshall's over-designed set and frantic editing to give substance and weight to the entire film.

Cruz has a role which on paper is nothing but stereotype. She's a fiery Latina! She's sexy! She's emotionally unstable! She is given some appalling lines (the vagina line just made me cringe). But in a similar vein to her work on Vicky Christina Barcelona, Cruz takes these elements and imbues them with an earthy sensuality, a kittenish flair for comedy and ultimately, a bruised sense of abandonment that elevate the character into something palpable and heart-breaking. If you had told me fie years ago that Cruz would become one of my favourite actors, I would have laughed. I thought she was terrible in most of her American films. But starting around the time of Volver, she seemed to finally figure out precisely how to use her gifts as a performer and Nine is like a mini-culmination of this – a greatest hits package of what she is capable of. To go from the insanely sexy romp of A Call to the Vatican, to the single desolate shot of her stumbling from the hotel after being humiliated by Guido is to see an actress working at the height of her powers.

In a similar vein, Cotillard is playing a 'type' – the wronged, long-suffering wife. It's tough to imagine how much there is left to be mined in this particular trope and yet she makes it seem fresh and vibrant What Cotillard has going for her is that she is one of the strongest technical singers in the cast. She has such a beautiful, pure voice, and obviously knows precisely how to use it so her two songs come off as master-classes in how an entire scene, and a whole history of pain, can be contained in just three or four minutes of screentime. The only moment where Marshall manages to balance his conceit of singing in a conceptual limbo and cross-cutting to a dramatic scene is in Cotillard's final number Take it All. The switching between her brilliant, impassioned singing and the quieter, but no-less potent fury in her scene with Day-Lewis is an excellent example of what the film could have been if Marshall had been more adventurous with the material. Cotillard isn't in much of the movie – she has a handful of scenes in total. Though she has been promoted as lead, its actually a prime example of superb actressing at the edges. Like Cruz, the film works brilliantly whenever she is on screen.

To read other entries in the blogathon, including the overlooked ladies of An Education (Olivia Williams and Rosamund Pike), and my personal favourite Anna Kendrick from Up in the Air, visit StinkyLulu's site

Nine

2010-01-15T06:08:00.001-08:00

Nine… nine… nine…

What to say about Nine…

Actually, there is a lot to say about Nine, so buckle in.

This is one of the most singularly frustrating movie experiences I have had in the last few years. By rights, this should have been the crowning achievement of a decade when musicals swept back into the mainstream, which has been one of the best things about the last 10 years of cinema. The source material is a well-respected musical (one which I haven’t seen on stage myself). It has a sensational cast of actresses and one of the greatest actors of his generation. The behind the scenes tech staff is incredible. And Rob Marshall, after the Oscar-winning Chicago, seemed like a safe pair of hands to guide this towards ritzy glory.

Yet the film ultimately fails, and it is the type of heart-breaking, infuriating failure that still produces a film worth talking about and seeing. For every misstep that the film takes (and there are a lot of them) there are moments that work perfectly, and provide some of the keenest, most emotionally devastating work in a musical yet.

The easiest way to describe Nine is as a musical re-interpretation of Fellini’s 8 ½ . An emotionally manipulative Italian director (Daniel Day Lewis) has a moment of personal and artistic crisis and slowly goes off the rails as he tries to mount a massive come-back picture. Marion Cotillard, Penelope Cruz, Nicole Kidman, Judie Dench, Sophia Loren and Fergie play various women in his life and each one has a number which (should) tie directly into Guido.

What we have here is a concept musical. The plot of Nine is simplistic but that’s not really the point. The show was about dramatising this moment of collapse, showing how Guido got to this point and the damage he has caused to the women around him. As such, I don’t have a problem with the slightly aimless and episodic nature of the screenplay. It fits in with the nature of what the film is trying to show. Unfortunately, when you decide to make a concept musical, you have a whole new set of rules which are important to help still give shape and substance to your piece.

Stephen Sondheim is the master of the concept musical. Think about something like Company, a show which has some similarities to Nine. Company also demonstrates a crisis of faith in its central male figure – Robert doesn’t know if he can ever find a woman and marry, which he feels pressurised to do by all those around him. Company examines modern relationships, marriage and neuroses. It has a ‘plot’ but it is really more a series of thematically and emotionally connected sketches. Yet it works as a cohesive piece because each of the songs plays in to the theme, while also being funny (I’m Not Getting Married Today), sad (The Ladies Who Luch), romantic (Marry me a Little), passionate (Another Hundred People) and melancholy (Sorry/Grateful).

Nine’s score isn’t quite at that level (few musicals are). But it does have some wonderful songs, the type that may not be instantly catchy in the modern pop-Hairpsray mould, but are suffused with feeling, some great lyrics and beautiful melodies. They require a little bit of extra engagement from the audience, and on that level I applaud the producers for taking a musical that doesn’t have any easy emotional or melodic hook and running with it.

But not all the songs work and after the first half hour it becomes clear that the film is floundering by utterly failing to provide a compelling reason for the concept to be explored. I don’t think the filmmakers (and I include the scriptwriter, director and leading man in that category) ever figure out what to do with the character of Guido. He just sort of sits there, providing a vague focus for a lot of busy scenes and spectacular emoting

To go back to Company for a second, Robert also displays a lack of focus as a main character. But this fuzziness is built into the story – he becomes a sort of avatar for the audience to experience the rest of the show. Though Company suffers in ultimately failing to truly resolve Robert (even in the short-term context of what we see on stage), he works perfectly for most of the show.

Guido is too specific a character to work as an effective avatar for the audience. Basically, he is an unsympathetic cock-hound who runs roughshod over the men and women in his life who are drawn to him because of his artistic sensibility. Because we never see any of his works (and have to take his abilities on faith), and have no connection to Guido outside of what is shown in the film, we cannot share in these people’s fascination with him. This problem is exacerbated by the casting of Daniel Day-Lewis who is completely wrong for the role.

Over the years Day-lewis has changed a lot as an actor. He has lost the passionate intensity that he used to bring to roles such in The Unbearable Lightness of Being and The Last of the Mohicans and instead begun to specialise in complex grotesques – think Bill the Butcher or Daniel Plainview. He is still doing marvellous work but it is light years away from the romantic dash and sensuality that Guido should be displaying. Javier Bardem, who had been originally cast in the role, could very well have squared the circle and given viewers a reason to care for Guido or believe that these amazing women would flock around him.

Then we have Rob Marshall. Marshall did a good job on Chicago. He and genius writer Bill Condon found a way to honour the vaudevillian structure of the original stage show and still make it cinematic. It was short, snappy, cynical and fun. But this is much closer to the bloated, misogynistic shit-fest of Memoirs of a Geisha than Chicago. Marshall simply cannot create a narrative out of this film and it is his decision to stage every musical number in a conceptual limbo of Guido’s empty film set that is the primary mistake in the film. It’s the same conceit he used in Chicago, where it made sense. None of the songs in that musical were really meant to carry the same emotional weight as the ones in Nine, so doing them at a sort of Brechtian remove was a smart decision.

In Nine, it destroys the emotional flow of the scene. Take Luisa’s number My Husband Makes Movies. Luisa sings this to a frozen tableau at a restaurant, which is placed on the empty soundstage. There is no real reason for this, and it takes it out of the immediate heart-breaking moment where she realises Guido’s lie about Carla. Cotillard’s moving performance saves it, but this is a problem which dogs most numbers. It does a similar disservice to Nicole Kidman’s number, which is given the perfect set-up by Marshall to occur in real-time only to cut away once again. The only song where that conceit really works is for A Call from the Vatican, Penelope Cruz’s insanely sexy early number. It’s believable that this routine would be performed in Guido’s imagination as he listens to what is basically a sex call.

And that’s before we even get to the songs which Marshall fails to provide a narrative or emotional context for their existence. What, exactly, is the point of Judi Dench’s number Folie Bergere? Or Sophia Loren’s lullaby? Or Kate Hudsons’s Cinema Italiano? They don’t actually reflect on Guido or his predicament. They just sort of exist to spice up the plot, which may work if they had been memorable or well staged. You could remove each one of those numbers from the film and miss nothing.

OK, there are a lot of negatives here. But that is just because these elements ruin so much of what is really impressive. Nicole Kidman nails Claudia’s elusive allusiveness. As poor as her song is, Judi Dench gives just the right amount of peppery warmth as Lili and she brings out the best in Day-lewis in particular in their scenes together. The photography by Dionne Bebe is astonishing at times. And Fergie tears the screen up in her performance of Be Italian – bringing surprising vocal power and a go-for-broke, crude sexuality that really works (it’s a shame Marshall rips off his own work form the Cell Block Tango, which is itself a bit of a Fosse rip off).

Penelope Cruz is an actress who seems to have hit her stride in a major way in the last five years. A Call From the Vatican manages the difficult task of being sultry and quite explicit without once being skanky. She brings out Claudia’s playfulness and has killer comic timing. And despite the predictable trajectory of her story, she’s able to suggest a world of wounded pain and in her later scenes.

The one element that unquestionably works however is Marion Cotillard. I am not kidding when I say this is one of the greatest film musical performances of the last 10 years. Cotillard has two songs and just a handful of scenes. She plays a rather traditional wronged wife role. And yet, she is magical, alive and heart-breaking at every moment. She has such a good voice, that she is one of the few cast members who can really act through her song. My Husband Makes Movies, despite being poorly staged, is magical; you feel all the compromises and rejection that Luisa has endured, yet she doesn’t once seem to be asking for pity.

The new song she is given, Take it All, is a brilliant capper. It’s the other number which sort of benefits form being split between the sound-stage and a dialogue scene and is beautifully edited. As Luisa sings in a what appears to be a strip club, and is manhandled and cat-called by those around her, she sings bitterly about how Guido has used her emotionally. It then cross-cuts to her break-up scene with Guido, each scene raising the intensity of the song that follows. It is a fantastic moment, and if the rest of the film had hit this level of emotional and visceral thrill, it would have been something special.

OK, I am nearly done. I will own this on DVD. There are scenes and entire sequences that I can’t wait to see again. Marion Cotillard and Penelope Cruz should certainly be in the hunt for awards. It shows that the musical form can do ambitious emotional landscapes. It just needs a visionary in the helm. Its time for Marshall to fuck off and let somebody else play (why hasn’t anybody given Julie Taymor a decent budget to make a musical? Surely her version of Sunday in the Park would be incredible! Or how about Spike Lee’s Company?)

Update: I went again last night to see the film and it crystallised once more the faults and successes of the film. Rob Marshall is the very definition of a one trick pony. Cruz and Cotillard are sensational. The script is a mess (though some of the dialogue is great). But two things stood out on second view. The first is that the Folie Bergererererrrer number is a disaster - the real low point of the film; not only for its lazy, boring staging but also for having absolutely nothing to do with the plot. The second is the I don't think I gave Kidman enough credit in the film. She has an incredibly tricky role - and even if her voice doesn't have the power to really sell her song, you can see it all in her eyes. A small reminder of what a formidable actress she really is (and she looks sensational)

Flexible working

2010-01-11T15:45:00.000-08:00

Quick link to Johann Hari's piece from a couple of days ago about the desire to change our workplace habits.

This is something which I feel quite passionately about. Personally, I work best in the morning and worst in the early to mid afternoon. If I could start my workday at, say 7.30 and finish at 3 I guarantee I would work much more effectively. From 2 to 4 I am pretty useless and listless and I find it really difficult to concentrate. Similarly, I would be more than happy to work from 7 to 5 four days a week as Friday afternoons are a notorious dead zone. I have never worked in an office which displayed much vigour in the final hours before the weekend break.

When I worked in a book store, I quite enjoyed working weekend days and having week days off – it was much more fun to go out and do stuff away from the weekend madness.

The notion of a nine to five job is disappearing. Smart phones, netbooks and other communications technology are already eroding the boundaries between people's work life and home life. I know most of my friends will now regularly check their work emails and messages at night when they should be relaxing or during their days off. This is just an accepted part of many jobs now. As our work hours become ever more fluid, it seems like there is very little give on the side of organisations but an increasing amount of take.

I agree with Hari in that there is a huge scope for more imagination and flexibility about how we work. But the opportunities being offered by technology at the moment seem largely to be a way for companies to gouge more time out of their workers without any corresponding benefits flowing the other way.

Women - always the bridesmaid , never the bride

2010-01-11T14:15:00.000-08:00

One of the things that struck me about Avatar upon re-watching it was how balanced the cast was between men and women. It's a bit depressing that in 2010 this is still something which is notable in a major action blockbuster. Of the eight or nine main characters, four of them are female and all of them have major roles in the narrative. Sigourney Weaver, Zoe Saldana, Michelle Rodriguez and CCH Pounder are all key characters, representing some of the best acting work in the whole film and in most cases providing the emotional heat for Cameron's grand adventure.

The reason that this leapt out at me was after watching Daybreakers on Friday. My love of trashy vampire films continues unabated. The film is a perfect example of some intriguing ideas that are wedded to an irritating and generic main plot. I like how vampirism is used as a metaphor for corporatism run amok It may not be hugely original, but at least it makes a change from using them as a vehicle for frustrated sexual urges. The design work is well done and the devolved vampire/bat hybrids are nicely ooky. And though Ethan Hawke does his usual humourless, irritating, charisma-free performance, Sam Neill and Willem Dafoe give plenty of vim and vigour in support and really help sell the material.

But I came out of the film royally pissed off. For the first half of the film, it sets up a pretty intriguing female character – a human survivor of the virus who has remained on the run from being captured by vampires. This is a woman who has displayed intelligence and bravery and seems like a natural to lead the action in the final act. But instead, she is gradually sidelined until she becomes a weak and bland damsel in distress. Remove her from the last act and it would change nothing about the plot.

This has become such a usual way for action and genre films to treat women that I shouldn't be surprised. I shouldn't be surprised that this character is also practically the only woman in the film (Sam Neill does have a daughter who has a small and potentially fascinating plotline but it is rudely truncated and its denouement, which the filmmakers desperately want to freight with emotional resonance is laughably bad). But I am starting to get tired of it. Think of any action film that has a group as its central focus – the group will generally have a token female, who is usually the love interest and that's it. It represents nothing so much as a depressing lack of imagination.

That's why I give Cameron props. He likes strong women and he doesn't feel like they should come at the expense of strong men. The roles he gives to women are more than the romantic love interest – they are some of the prime movers of his plots.

Going back to Daybreakers – it wouldn't have meant much to have changed some of those roles to make them female. Sam Neill's character doesn't need to be a man. In fact, neither does Willem Dafoe. Ethan Hawke's brother could easily be his sister. I am not advocating any kind of quota system, just wishing writers would display a bit more imagination when they are actually writng.

Legally Blonde, aka, The Campest Night out on the West End

2010-01-10T07:15:00.001-08:00

I always wondered if it would be possible to write a musical without a single memorable song, but that still kind of worked.

Well... Legally Blonde is the answer.

Seriously, I sat through the entire show on Wednesday night and even during the intermission, I would have been hard pushed to hum a single bar from the score. Things did not improve in the second act. The show seemed stuffed with inspirational power pop anthems and “You Go Girl!” moments, and yet not a single one had the energy or charm of Defying Gravity or Popular (Legally Blonde totally wants to be Wicked – it has the same shiny pop sheen). The worst song is a trite pity party of a ballad in the second act which made me thankful that it was the only one in the show. This is easily one of the most generic, uninteresting scores I have heard in years.

The lyrics are better – some of them are pretty funny. There was rather too much 'reaching for my dreams' style emoting but they were serviceable. In two songs in particular, they worked a treat. Paulette's number Ireland and the Gay Or European? courtroom song are really funny and both come at just the right moments in the show when the energy levels are starting to drop. The book has some good lines (most of them from the film) but the show only really works intermittently as a piece of entertainment. And its relentless triviality became grating after a while.

There is a first act song which I think is emblematic of the problems of the show. Called Chip on Your Shoulder, its a number where Emmett talks about how anger and resentment have played a role in driving him towards his success. He appeals to Elle to give in to some of those 'negative' emotions to help inspire her. This is an intriguing idea, sort of a Dark Side of the Force temptation for Elle. I liked how Emmett got to voice a little of his own class-based anger and how he was able to channel that into positive goals. But the song the very definition of mid-tempo generic and it is barely alluded to after that moment.

At least they got the leading lady right though. Sheridan Smith as Elle is smashing. She has a decent, if unexceptional voice and can just about hold her own in the choreography (most of which is very good) but she is a fantastic comedian and completely sells even the most ridiculous scenes. Her performance isn't much more than a Reese Witherspoon impersonation, but she does it with style and manages to keep the entire thing afloat on her dainty shoulders. The rest of the cast range from the good (the hard-working, very funny chorus) to the poor (both male leads who are drippy and bland). You begin to realise how smart the original film was in many ways, and especially how skilled actors such as Luke Wilson, Selma Blair and Jennifer Coolidge were in their performances.

Smith is gold and as long as she is in the show, I think people will have a good time. For my part, I couldn't imagine wanting to sit through the whole thing again, but after her other great performance as Audrey in Little Shop of Horrors, I would definitely look forward to seeing Smith do something else.

Quick catch-ups

2010-01-08T07:13:00.000-08:00

I finally got to see Where the Wild Things Are. I am kind of glad that I waited a bit - I had read so many impassioned reviews about the film that my expectations had been sky high. Hell, the trailer alone was an emotional experience.

The film is everything that I hoped it would be, and quite a bit more. This is one I am going to have to go away and think about and see at least once more before it leaves cinemas. I also think that this is one of those films that I will wear out when it comes on to DVD. I think that Spike Jones and David Eggers have made the greatest literary adaptation of the year. They have teased out all of the weird emotional undercurrents of Maurice Sendak's original book and made it deeper and more resonant.

I could go on and on about how incredibly well realised the Wild Things are, about the beautiful, nuanced work of Max Boot and James Gandolfini and the other actors and the amazing cinematography from Lance Accord. If the Oscars were tomorrow, I would hand the best picture Oscar to Where the Wild Things Are, and the screenplay Oscar to Jonze and Eggers. This is a work which you are going to hear college students dissect and enthuse over in 10 years time. It is a brilliant slice of pop art and the world is a better place for it.

A Serious Man is yet another Coen Bros film where I feel like an outsider looking in at the party everybody else is having. Its not that I don't like their films. I have a lot of love for The Big Lebowski, Fargo and Oh Brother. Its just I don't really get the fawning over them that a lot of critics engage in. I often find their films cold and mechanical, beautiful machinery without anything that I connect with going on underneath. A Serious Man is one of those films that I know, intellectually, is funny. I just didn't laugh. It's filled with good performances, smart dialogue and you can sense the fun the Coens are having in finding new ways to torture their main character further. But by the end of the film, it all felt a bit 'meh'. I'd like to give myself a pass and say you probably have to be Jewish to really 'get' it, but this is a problem I have with a lot of their stuff. Help - there must be other Coen Bros agnostics out there?!?!?

Lastly, Sherlock Holmes. I originally meant to go into some depth about the film. but then what would be the point? The film has charms - Downey Jnr is good, if slightly lacking as Holmes. He suffers from having extraordinary expectations on his shoulders as an actor - I liked his portrayal, I just didn't think there was anything particularly interesting in it. Jude Law is much better as Watson, as is Kelly Reilly as his fiancee. Rachel McAdams is utterly and moronically wasted in the role of Irene Adler (and reading just how good a character Adler is makes me irritated that the writers couldn't find a better way to integrate her into the plot). The central plot is utter nonsense, and the action scenes are poorly conceived. The one element however that I did love unreservedly is Hans Zimmer's wonderful score. I hope they remember to bring a script for the sequel.

Abuse in Being Human

2010-01-08T07:01:00.000-08:00

I'm going to talk a little about how vampirism and werewolves are handled as metaphors at a later date. As potent, well written and well performed as these metaphors are, its not anything which hasn't been done before. But with the character of Annie, the writers do something a little bit different and create what I would argue is actually the show's most potent and cohesive metaphor.

In Being Human Uncovered, the hour long documentary on the show, lead writer Toby Whitehouse described Annie's spectral status as a metaphor for having a lack of self-confidence. This isn't the most original of metaphors. Buffy had a first season episode where a young Clea Duvall became invisible because she couldn't assert herself. But I actually think Whitehouse is selling himself in short. While a lack of confidence is certainly a major part of Annie's arc, her plot as a whole is actually a pointed and subtle look at the power dynamics in an abusive relationship.

Annie's view of her relationship in the first episodes is all warm and fuzzies. She believes that Owen is a good man who loved her deeply. Despite his over bearing and dominant personality, she persists in the idea that any wrongdoing is somehow her fault. This isn't a woman who just lacks confidence. It is one who is thoroughly dominated and cowed, who selectively edits her own life to ensure it fits within the framework allowed by Owen.

The key moment for Annie comes not when she discovered that Owen actually murdered her, but in the fifth episode when she attempts to turn the tables on him and scare him into a public confession. Just at her moment of victory, when Owen finally seems to be the one dominated and cowed, and Annie marches off in triumph, the tables are turned.

Owen: Hey Annie, is that the best you've got... I should have known that even death wouldn't be a match for one of your sulks.

For the rest of the episode, Owen shows that when t comes to mind games, he still knows exactly how to bully Annie. Even though, for once, Annie is holding all the cards. As a ghost, she can no longer be physically hurt. Her mates now include a vampire and a werewolf. Yet in a brilliant moment of writerly inspiration, Whitehouse shows just how toxic and potent Owen's hold is over her. I say inspiration as this seems exactly what has happened. In that same documentary, Whitehouse talks about how he had written the Annie storyline leading to the point where she finally confronts and scares Owen and then couldn't think about what would come next. The line he gives to Owen is not only a wonderful dramatic reversal but takes Annie's storyline from a rather one dimensional empowerment plotline into something far more complex and interesting.

Like a large proportion of those who have been victims of abuse or violence, finding a release from he power of the abuser is often far more difficult than simply removing themselves physically from the threat of harm. The psychological damage can be both more acute and longer-lasting that the physical harm. In that reversal, Owen reduces Annie to a quivering wreck. The advantage she holds over him means nothing in that instance because he still knows exactly what buttons to push to destroy her. Far from being intimidated into a confession, Owen seems inspired to even grander levels of sadism. It is a chilling, brilliant scene (replicated later in the episode where Annie tries to speak to warn his current partner).

Its probably also worth noting here that Gregg Chillin makes a fantastically nasty shit. Even more than the Big Bad of Herrick, you want to see Owen taken down in the most hideous and gruesome fashion but it is a testament to his skills that Owen feels utterly real.

Annie does prevail up to a point. After getting the better of a best of vampires to save Mitchell, she does gain the strength and confidence to finally face down Owen, The secret that she whispers to Owen,which sends him mad, gives the viewer the kick they have been looking for, But once more, Whitehouse refuses to give you the easy resolution and twists it once more. By looking for personal revenge against Owen, by arguably morally compromising herself in a desire to see Owen suffer, Annie may have set in motion a sequence of events which put her, Mitchell and George in even great danger,. It is this final reversal which shows that Being Human is on the same level of shows such as Buffy and Battlestar Galactica in examining and over-turning our comfortable moral precepts.

Lastly, I should say a word about Lenora Crichlow who plays Annie. In the first two of three episodes, I was convinced she was the weak link of the trio. But I was wrong. Not only is she the funniest actors of the bunch but she can summon a searing intensity when called for. Of all the characters, Annie is the one with the least obvious dramatic bridge into the next season. But she is also the one I am most intrigued by.

Romance in the Noughties

2010-01-04T13:34:00.000-08:00

I've been trying to think of the best film which encapsulates what it means to love somebody during the last decade. I am going to try and write this without sounding too wanky - obviously the basics of how people fall in love don't really change from one generation to the next. It's always going to be the same mix of lust, emotion, friendship and economic considerations that go into any relationship. But the processes for how we find the people we fall in love with have changed drastically.

As communications technology has given my generation unrivaled avenues for staying in contact, it has also emphasised how transitory much of our communication can be. Social networking sites like Twitter and Facebook offers us the illusion of being in contact with vast numbers of people. But its also really easy to erase those people from your life. Refuse a friend request. Delete an email. Block a phone number. It has become a simple deed to act if people you were once connected to never existed.

This may seem itself a tenuous connection, but it increasingly looks like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is the movie which best caught the ways that people of my generation interact with one another. This strange, dreamy, surreal yet heartbreaking and poignant film is the best, most relevant romantic film to have been released since When Harry Met Sally.

Think of the central idea of Eternal Sunshine - that people would be happier if the memories of the people they loved and lost were removed wholesale. Like all great sci-fi conceits, it is both simple and profound and Charlie Kaumann's exploration of it through the story of Joel and Clementine is the type of death-defying high wire artistic act that only somebody of his genius level talent could pull off. Reaching deeper than any of his other justly celebrated screenplays, Eternal Sunshine acknowledges the harsh damage that people who truly connect can wreck on each other. It concedes that by opening ourselves up to vulnerability and intimacy with another person, we run the risk of having that trust used as an emotional and psychological shiv.

Yet despite this difficult truth, the film is, ultimately, hopeful. It also recognises that those moments of intimacy make up much of the core emotional framework of each person. Remove the memory of it, and you remove a vital part of yourself. The film brilliantly shows the narrowing of Joel's experiences as one by one his treasured memories are stolen along with the painful ones. He begins to realise that the ying and yang of his experience with Clementine, the challenge she represents to him is part of what makes being with her so rewarding. By acknowledging the complexity of his feelings for her, he also realises their depth and ultimately rebels against losing that part of himself.

In a similar, real-world way, the people on social networking sites like Facebook or MySpace, who are only too quick to delete friends and scrub references to past relationships are playing out a version of Joel's experience. Like hyperlinked readers flipping through websites, we can often find ourselves flipping through relationships, obsessed with the idea that our perfect mate is another click away. By both largely anticipating this trend and then literalising it in his screenplay, Kaufmann proves his prescience and his humanity.

When you add the depth of this story to Michel Gondry's marvellous, trippy direction, it achieves a type of delirious perfection that virtually no other film in the noughties achieved. Just think of how the B-plot of Mark Ruffalo, Kirsten Dunst and Elijah Wood both compliments and comments on the main relationship. Think of the hilarious visual gags which litter the film, providing unexpected delights in some of the darker scenes. Think of the precise, delicate work of Dunst, who quietly devastates in the films final scenes.

But mostly, think of Joel and Clementine, Carrey and Winslet, in the crumbling house by the sea. Winslet has never been better, playing both the real Clementine, and Joel's experience of Clementine and still managing to break your heart and drive you nuts. Yet in a film filled with memorable actors, it is ultimately Carrey who drives the film forward. He is astonishing in this film in ways he has never been before or since.

Found Families

2010-01-04T11:17:00.000-08:00

I've been drowning in TV lately, watching the first couple of episodes of a rash of different shows and frankly it all feels like it is getting a little much. Mad Men, The Wire, Arrested Development, The Sopranos, Six Feet Under, Dollhouse... I am starting to feel a little like Echo with too many imprints in my brain. The problem of having these beautifully made, intelligent series is that it becomes difficult to just duck in and out of them. Don't get me wrong, I certainly don't want everything to slip back into the tired Monster of the Week style procedural, but it can start to feel slightly exhausting.

Anyway, I have decided that I am going to settle down and focus on one drama and one comedy at a time (am going with Mad Men and Arrested Development to begin with) as a sort of New Years resolution. I have a new found faith in those things since I actually stuck to my join-a-gym-and-actually-use-it one from 2009.

So, round-a-bout way to say that I spent the weekend re-watching all six episodes of the really quite brilliant Being Human. I saw the first season a couple of months ago and liked it a lot but it kind of slipped from my mind in a rush of life stuff getting in the way. Watching the six hours in such a compressed space of time allowed me to properly sink in to the show. And it is brilliant. I have some minor quibbles with some of the plotting and a few places where I think the actors go a little over the top (Russell Tovey walks a delicate balance in his performance and it doesn't always come off), but I can forgive all that because it gets everything else right. This feels like the first new British show in a while to attempt the type of TV which has become so acclaimed from the States. Being Human is dense, layered, dramatic stuff, turning on a dime between genres but with a powerful connective thread to each episode which demands patience and intelligence from viewers.

Of all the things to admire in the show (the very shaggable Aidan Turner and Russell Tovey being prime reasons), I think how it looks at the concept of family is what gives it special resonance for me. Mitchell, George and Annie may constitute one of the weirder families on tv right now, but there is no doubting that a family is precisely what they are. One of the key themes of many of my favourite fantasy and sci-fi stories is the idea of found or created families and communities. X-Men, Buffy, Angel, and Firefly all examine how groups of outcasts come to find support, love and friendship with one another. For whatever reason, each of the characters in these stories find themselves rejected or isolated from their normal or 'blood' relations and have to forge new connections. In each of these stories, these connections are the key to the success of each individual in coming to full realise their own power.

Being Human is no different. For a variety of reasons, our intrepid threesome find themselves alone in the world, isolated from the people they thought would love them and slowly fading into insignificance. But as they begin to live together, to get to know one another's strengths and weaknesses and as they grow to rely on each other, they find a personal strength which changes each of their destinies. They give each other a reason to exist, a deep connection to the world that gives them the power to face their internal and external threats.

It is telling that Herrick, the magnificently hissable main villain, is utterly unable to comprehend Mitchell's connection to his friends. In their confrontation in the final episode, he says to Mitchell;

Herrick: What is this hold they have over you?

Mitchell: You wouldn't understand. In fact you could say that's what this whole thing comes down to

As dialogue, that may be slightly too on the nose, but just as Buffy had to learn that a major part of her strength and the reason for her longevity as Slayer was down to her connections to the Scoobies, so too do Mitchell, George and Annie find out exactly how strong they can be when they have others to help them. It is an infinitely better, and I would argue, more moral view then the traditional lone hero model.

Being Human complicates this vision by giving us a mirror image of this family in the vampire clan headed by the patriarchal Herrick. In many ways, they represent Mitchell's traditional 'blood relations' (in both the literal and metaphorical sense as Herrick is the vampire who sired Mitchell during WW1). It is clear that Mitchell would be welcomed back in to the fold, as long as he was willing to suppress just the part of himself which makes him noble and unique amongst his kind. But there is no space for him to be different. With George and Annie, he finds himself in a group in which their differences are celebrated, explored and ultimately integrated.

I think this will have a lot of resonance for gay people, who have historically found themselves moving to urban centers to escape discrimination and oppression at home and finding a new nurturing unit. This isn't quite my story. I am incredibly lucky in life to have two families I love - my family in Ireland, and the one I have created for myself in London. I find Being Human's exploration of the bonds of family and friendship to be rich, inspiring and quite beautiful.

I am going to have a lot more to talk about in the next week or so about Being Human - how it contains potent metaphors for living in the closet, for addiction and mostly for abuse.

Disney plays Scrooge with Up

2009-12-21T13:55:00.000-08:00

According to a report in The Guardian, Disney were attempting to pull a fast one on cinema distributors in the UK by making Up available to buy on DVD in time for Christmas, even though the film was only released in the UK on October 9th.

I can't believe that Disney thought they were going to get away with this. I know Up isn't in the UK Box Office Top 10 at the moment, but it is still on general release. Disney were hoping to collapse the traditional four month window between cinema and DVD release and make a mint over the Christmas holidays. Cinema owners rightfully drew a line in the sand and threatened to kill A Christmas Carol which is having a surprisingly long run in the UK and just returned to the top of the charts last weekend.

I know the movie business is in a lot of flux right now, and piracy is a legitimate if overstated concern, but collapsing the window between theatrical and home distribution is not something that one studio is going to be able to unilaterally do. Cinema chains have absolutely no incentive to cooperate in what could be the death of their business without significant changes in how theatrical revenues are distributed. I am sure that everybody is looking at what happened to the music industry and is quietly shitting themselves, but music and film are very different disciplines and are consumed in very different ways.

I would argue that music is, in essence, a private act of consumption, while movies, by their evolution in theatrical distribution, are a much more communal event. I know this wasn't always the case with music (you had to listen to music being performed live up until fairly recently) but movies have always been about the cinematic experience. That's not going to change in the near future.

If Disney really wanted to release Up in time for Christmas, then it may have been an idea to not delay the release of the film 5 months. Pixar is about as pre-sold a property as you are likely to get and I don't think it would have risked much to theatrical revenues to have released in day and date with the States back in May. Then Up could have hit the market at the perfect time to become the stocking filler of choice for nasty little moppets everywhere (not to mention anybody who values wondrous storytelling).

The Guardian mentions that it some studio executives see an inevitable point some time in the near future when a film will get released simultaneously on all platforms (DVD, cinema, TV) because of the inevitable advance in digital technology. I'm sure I'll eat these words at some point, but I really can't see this happening. There seems to be too much money to lose for a whole lot of people for this to happen with major films. However, I do there is a market for this with smaller indies (and I think it has already happened in the States with films like In the Loop) who can parlay the initial burst of media attention on cinema release into a broader and more profitable initial release strategy.

2012 is the Andy Kaufman of Disaster Films

2009-12-20T14:53:00.000-08:00

I'm still not sure how to process 2012. I can't remember a time when I recoiled so instinctively from a film - it really is the most nihilistic, repugnant piece of CGI disaster porn I have ever watched (what are the chances of seeing that quote on the DVD box?). Roland Emmerich, the Orson Welles of global destruction, puts some pretty amazing imagery on-screen and I can usually watch this stuff all day long - I have seen Armageddon more times then I could care to admit. The ridiculous, moronic plot contrivances and dialogue don't especially bother me. After all, this is the man who had adorable, doe-eyed Jake Gyllenhall out-run the fucking frost in Day After Tomorrow and had a computer virus bring down an Alien civilisation in Independence Day (aliens can apparently fly billions of miles but don't have Norton Anti-Virus). This is a director whose films are extended riffs on Six Degrees of Separation - everybody of consequence, no matter where they are at the beginning of the film, will end up having a flimsy connection to one of the other main actors.

But something happened to me about midway through this film. I was chugging along fine, enjoying the heck out of Woody Harrelson's fantastically OTT madman, confidently predicting that the fate of mankind would come down to John Cusack's daughter learning to stop wetting the bed and laughing at the idea of a camper truck outrunning a pyroclastic flow travelling at roughly the speed of sound. But then scene after scene of gorgeously rendered chaos and death started and I got tired, and then I got turned off. Somewhere about the time that the spirited Russian tart-with-a-heart gets needlessly drowned I actively began to hate the film. And at the final shot - with the white, middle class family dressed in Gap-casual wear staring into the sun on their way to taking over Africa, I began to loathe the whole nasty, squalid, shitty little film. At least when Knowing destroyed the world, it had the balls to actually do it. 2012 is bug-fuck insane, but also, ultimately cowardly.

Maybe I'm getting older, or maybe there was something rotten at the core of this movie, I don't know. I think there is something nasty, and almost confrontational about the amount cruelty in this picture. If this movie were a stand-up comic, it would be Andy Kaufman. 2012 is almost like an extreme performance art piece about how bleak and uncompromising Emmerich can make a major blockbuster. Even Chiwetel Eljiofar's big humanity speech plays into this, because he is essentially trying to convince us to care about a bunch of billionaires who bought their way on to the Ark and who we have been invited to hate for the entire film. This is who we are supposed to repopulate the earth with? I say let the whole lot drown.

I also have to respectfully disagree with Stephanie Zacharek, a critic I respect hugely and who writes for Salon. In her review of 2012, she said;

There are some moments of mild sadism in "2012," like the one in which a crowd of Indian refugees (including one of the movie's many ill-used actors, Jimi Mistri) cower in fear before being washed away by one of those tsunamis. But if "2012" isn't exactly cheerful, at least it doesn't have the sweaty, mean-spirited sheen of, say, Steven Spielberg's "War of the Worlds."

I couldn't disagree more. Despite its faults, War of the Worlds has far more humanity and respect for its characters than this piece of trash. Emmerich wanted to push you buttons. Spielberg was telling a story. One is an artist, the other a hack. That to me is the essential difference.

Best Superhero Film of the Noughts

2009-12-20T12:06:00.000-08:00

I posted a run-down a couple of weeks ago about why Untitled was my favourite movie of the noughties. But as brilliant as that film was, it never got much attention, and certainly not in the director's cut version that I love so much. Perhaps it might have done more if William Miller had an alter ego who donned tights and fought crime while on tour with Stillwater, because this was, undoubtedly the decade where the comic book movie conquered all. This isn't something I sneer at - I have loved is seeing true artists like Guillermo Del Toro and Brad Bird take on the genre and produce gorgeous pieces of pop culture glory. So to celebrate the form, and in the spirit of my Untitled post, here are top 10 reasons why Spiderman 2 is the best superhero film of the last 10 years.

10. The titles and credit sequence
Beginning a sequel is always a difficult task - how do you immerse your audience back into a world after two or three years of other shiny objects vying for their attention? I think the gold standard is probably The Two Towers, where the Balrog fight is revisited and instead of following the fellowship, the camera tilts down and follows Gandalf for that awesome plunge through the caverns of Moria. But Spiderman 2 comes perilously close to topping it. The comic book panels introducing the key emotional beats of the first film are a fantastic way to remind audiences of the conflicts and relationships that will play a major role in Spiderman 2, while the energetic, sweet and funny opening scene where Parker tries to get a dozen pizzas delivered is a perfect microcosm of the central question that the film is set up to explore; can Peter live a normal life and still be Spiderman? It is the first indication of the strength of the script and of Maguire's talent at physical comedy.

9. Aunt May
There aren't many roles in films aimed at teenagers for older people - it would have been very easy for the film-makers to have sidelined Aunt May but instead she becomes the moral centre of the film. Though I think her big backyard scene with Peter is over-written, she is given several magic moments throughout, never more so when she is tangling with Doc Ock. But two scenes in particular stand-out. The first comes early on when Peter tries to refuse her birthday money - Rosemary Harris' delivery of the line 'You WILL take this money from me!" - is forceful and painful and once again, an early indication of the seriousness that the film takes the economic realities of its characters. I have been in Peter's position in the past and Harris completely sells that difficult moment. The second is her wordless reaction to Peter's confession; a perfect, exquisitely painful reminder of the emotional costs of this story.

8 Economic realities
One of the reasons that I connect with Spiderman so completely is that he lives in a very recognisable economic reality. Three of the main characters (Peter, MJ and Aunt May) live in and work in within economic constraints which actually feel like something tethered to this world. As the globe descended into financial chaos towards the end of this decade, Spiderman 2 looks increasingly like the only superhero film that engages with the very real economic nightmare that people were beginning to experience. The scene where Aunt May is humiliated by a bank official while trying to refinance her mortgage suddenly takes on a deeper resonance and Parker's refusal to use his Spiderman persona for financial gain becomes even more noble.

7. Throw Away jokes
The bit in the elevator about the Spiderman costume. Peter Parker stumbling out of a closet with his pizzas. Bruce 'The Chin' Campbell. Any scene with JK Simmons. Unlike most other superhero films, Spiderman 2 had a lithe and quick-witted sense of humour, mixing in character comedy, one-liners and slapstick with aplomb. It's why the film feels so light on its feet, why the two and a half hours fly by. These jokes are central to the spirit of the film, and never descend into the type of cheap, smart assed quips that often pass for humour in major films. Even better, the comedy actually adds to the drama - it humanises the characters and their dilemmas, making their triumph all the sweeter.

6. The Birth of Doc Ock
Raimi. Chainsaws. Killer titanium octopus arms. Utterly deranged and brilliant.

5. The action scenes
The action scenes in the first Spiderman film were pretty pedestrian - that was a rare blockbuster whose most successful elements were its characters and the general goodwill that the film going audience felt for the property. What makes Spiderman 2 such a satisfying leap forward is that Raimi kept the characters and relationships that felt so genuine and heart-felt and added some of the most breathless action sequences of any film in the last 10 years. While improvements in CGI undoubtedly helped, Raimi also seems freed by having such a visually dynamic villain as Doc Ock. His battles with Spiderman across the city have a glorious, kinetic, 'can you top this' quality. They work not only because of the inspired choreography, but because we care about the outcome. The El Train sequence in particular is an amazing piece of work, filled with humour, invention and emotion.

4. New York
What gives Spiderman its added frisson of believability is the way Raimi situates it in a very specific and recognisable version of New York. It is a bit of a cliché to say that the backdrop is as much of a character as anything else, but in this case its true. The portrayal of New York as a teeming multi-ethnic playground feels bang on, and Raimi's use of extras is fantastic throughout. Unlike Gotham's view of urban decay and decadence, Spiderman's New York is ultimately a hopeful, democratic and humanist vision of a city and one that one that I recognise as much more truthful than the usual misanthropic portrayal that you get in movies aimed at teen boys.

3. The script
Julia. Paper Moon. Ordinary People. Unfaithful. Wonder Boys. The Adventures of Cavalier and Klay. Just some of the work written by Alvin Sargent and Michael Chabon before they worked on the script for Spiderman 2. This, my friends, is what you get when great writers are left free to work with iconic characters and they deliver. Spiderman 2 is one of those joyful pieces of mainstream writing which gets everything right. The characters have dimension and stature. It balances comedy, romance, action and surprising sadness with what looks like ease. It gets the big moments right and yet keeps finding odd little grace notes that add so much to the texture of the picture (as a small example, think of the Mageina Tovah as Ursula, the forlorn daughter of Peter's landlord. She has about 4 minutes of screentime and yet a lovely, indelible portrait is painted of her life). Each character has an arc - they are changed by the end of the film, and in ways that fele organic and earned. It gave the third film the perfect set-up (one which it then went on to squander pitifully). It takes a stock villain (the Mad Scientist) and finds fun, kinky ways to make him seem fresh and interesting (backed by Alfred Molina's marvellous work). The film is moral in the best sense and gives us a hero who is fallible but who ultimately proves himself worthy. It gets so much right that I am willing to forgive the laziness of having MJ as the damsel in distress at the big action climax, because they give her that tremendous final scene.

2. The cast
Even though there is no performance as towering as Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight, this does have the best overall cast of any major blockbuster of the noughties. Right down to the one-line extras, its just a feast of great acting. The main actors all take iconic characters and imbue them with life, lifting them straight from the 2 dimensional comic book world and making them heartfelt and utterly believable. All of this is, of course, anchored by Tobey Maguire who finds just the right mixture of between vulnerability, physical comedy and sincere heroics to sell the whole film.

1. 'Go get 'em tiger'

Even if you don't particularly care for Kirsten Dunst in the role of Mary Jane, her delivery of the final line is pure and utter perfection. In fact her final speech is just a lovely piece of writing ('I've always been standing in your doorway' is possibly the most romantic line of any superhero film). Just as the film finds just the right tone to ease the audience into the world of Spiderman, it also manages to leave you with the same giddy feeling of Peter as he flys free amongst the skyscrapers of New York.

You may have noticed that I didn't give Raimi his own place. The plaudits for Raimi really run through the entire countdown. I think this is the single best film he has ever done, one which plays to all his strengths as a film-maker without having to compromise. There is a palpable joy to his work in this film that is probably the x-factor which makes it such a wonderful experience. To see how badly the mixture can go wrong, well, you only have to look at Spiderman 3...

Honourable mentions

Hellboy 2 - del Toro's vision of a community of freaks coming together to save the world is filled with amazing creations and delightfully off-kilter humour. Ron Perleman is amazing.

The Incredibles - the greatest Pixar film of all, and a glorious riff on family, talent, responsibility and commitment.

The Dark Knight - It trys to stuff too much in, and becomes rushed and ungainly in the end, but this is complex, adult entertainment with a titanic central performance from Ledger.

Keira Kightley in The Misanthrope

2009-12-19T08:58:00.000-08:00

It's easy to be blase about famous actors attempting to gain artistic cred by appearing in a West End play. At its most calculated and crass, you end up with Madonna or Josh Hartnett - people who push the definition of 'actor' to its very limit. But there is a special kind of theatrical electricity when you see an actor who has been consistently underrated or dismissed confound your expectations. Keira Knightley is now braving the onslaughts of critics and audiences in a modern update of Moliere's The Misanthrope, and due to the generosity of one of my best friends, I got to see it last night.

I should get out of the way first that I am a bit of a Knightley partisan. I think she has proven herself more than worthy since the first Pirates film, but it was Pride and Prejudice where she completely won me over. I maintain that she is the only actress I have seen who managed to struck the right balance between Elizabeth Bennett's passion, intelligence and generosity, while also portraying her vanity and self-righteousness. Her performance in Atonement is completely different - very particular, stylised and subtle but equally wonderful.

Yet despite my admiration for her work, Knightley seems to inspire some quite toxic levels of disgust among people and I don't know of another performer whose weight is used so consistently to denigrate their work. Even in The Independent's review of The Misanthrope, the writer (a woman) felt the need to comment on how Knightley looked. No male actor would ever have to put up with that kind of bullshit.

So that's how I entered the theatre last night. I hadn't read any reviews (the press night was on Thursday night), but I wanted her to succeed. I knew nothing about the original Moliere play, except that this was a version originally done in 1996 and updated once again for this staging. You can read a distillation of the plot here. The milieu has been changed to one of fashionable playwrights, vain critics and superficial Hollywood starlets in London circa 2009, but the themes and conflicts are the same.

This was a great, chunky night out at the theatre. Damien Lewis plays Alscest and I think its safe to say its a good performance only because I didn't want to punch him. You see, Lewis is playing one of my least favourite archetypes - the guy who is supposed to be 'honest' because he thinks everything is shit. I get it, the play is called The Misanthrope. Therefore misanthropy is a major theme. But the play comes perilously close to being a dirge within the opening 20 minutes, where a false dichotomy of miserable truthfulness against superficial politeness is set-up. Alcest's girlfriend, a young, vain yet intelligent actress called Jennifer (Knightley) is the woman he is trying to save from the superficial celeb-obsessed world that she lives in. Lewis is very good at making Alcest charismatic enough to make you believe in Jennifer's attraction to him, but also ridiculous enough to undercut some of the didactic nature of the play. My major problem with his work is that I don't think Alcest worked consistently on an emotional level - he seemed to veer too wildly between different poles without much reason.

There came a point, at least for me, when he becomes just as superficial as everybody around him. He is as fundamentally dishonest and emotionally cowed as everybody else, and far more deluded about how the world works than the people he rails against. In my trusty Penguin Classics description of the play, they claim that The Misanthrope is the 'portrait of a man doomed to social wilderness because he cannot concede to convention nor compromise his principles'. I'm not sure I buy that to be honest - to me, there is nothing very principled about Alcest's jealous possessiveness and self-delusion. There is nothing very principled about his refusal to see Jennifer as anything but his to rule and control. It seems to me like Alcest dooms himself because he hold his principles to be worth something more than the flesh and blood of those around him. I guess you could argue that there is a type of tragic heroism in that, but I think it is a particularly low-rent kind.

Knightley plays Jennifer, the young American actress who is both the centre of the conflict and the prize (sexual, emotional, financial and intellectual) that all the other characters are striving to win. I think not only is Jenny's character the best realised and the most compelling of the whole play, but Knightley nails her beautifully. I have heard a lot of people joke that it wouldn't have been much of a stretch for a beautiful young actress to play a beautiful young actress, but Knightley is asked to play a huge range of emotions in this piece, as well as contend with the tricky, verse dialogue. What I liked about Jenny is that she is the one who seems to maintain the most control of her various relationships by being the most realistic about her place in the world. She can be cruel and selfish, vain and superficial, but she is emotionally open and honest with Alcest in a way that he cannot be with her. She demolishes Alcest's ridiculous suburban fantasies and rightly recognises them as just another way for Alcest to allay his raging jealousy and fully posses her. Knightley embodies Jennifer's contradictions with skill and subtlety. She isn't perfect in the role - there are technical parts of the performance that she still seems to be refining (eg she sometimes seems slightly lost in the crowd scenes on stage) and she rather over-eggs Jennifer's superficial bitchiness in her first interview scene. But overall, she and Lewis make a formidable duo.

Its difficult to discuss the other characters and actors - all play rather one dimensional archetypes, though they do so with great skill. Tara Fitzgerald should get a mention for being so deliciously bitchy and two-faced in the role of Jennifer's acting teacher. At first, I thought she was a bit too camp, but she does have a brilliant scene with Knightley where teacher and student slowly twist the knife into one another which is both superbly acted and probably the best piece of sustained dialogue in the show. Fitzgerald deftly shows you the cracks in Marcia's veneer and relishes the emotional brutality of her final monologue to Jennifer. Its a wonderful piece of comic acting.

I can't speak for the skill of the adaptation. It takes a while to get used to the verse, and it doesn't help that it sometimes sounds really clunky in its attempts to rhyme. I did laugh a lot, and the actors, for the most part, did really well with making it feel real. Lewis and Fitzgerald were especially skilled at this, but I think Knightley showed her inexperience by occasionally have difficulty with some of the rhythms. The play had plenty of contemporary resonance, and it held my interest throughout. In the more emotional scenes (the Fitzgerald/Knightley stand-off, and Knightley/Lewis' major fight) it managed to break through the stylised dialogue and became genuinely emotionally gripping.

I do think the play runs out of steam at the end. I don't think it resolves itself in any kind of interesting way - essentially the character's restate their various philosophical positions, Alcest spits the dummy and the curtain falls. I get that not everything is resolved in real life, but there also doesn't seem to be much of a dramatic arc in the piece. You could argue I guess, that Alcest has his delusions shattered and his misanthropy confirmed. But I instinctively recoil from that sort of easy moralising and I think that's why the play feels ultimately unsatisfying.

At several points in the play, the characters also break the fourth wall, commenting on the nature of the updated play that they are in, and making a few, condescending, audience-winking jokes. This is actually a bit of a pet hate of mine. I don't think a writer should break the fourth wall unless there is a stylistic or narrative reason behind it. You always risk shattering the ability for an audience to suspend their disbelief. This becomes even more important to consider in a piece which already has elements which can distance an audience from the emotional realities of the characters (in this case, the stylised dialogue and the meta-casting of Knightley). To me, the moments that break that wall in The Misanthrope are cheap gags, none of which are even particularly funny.

Having said that, I really did enjoy the play - it was challenging, had some wonderful dialogue and great acting from a spirited ensemble. I would love to see an original production of the play to see if the elements I didn't like were part of the update or are intrinsic to the piece. But overall, a perfect way to end the year in theatre.

Back to normal blogging

2009-12-17T01:36:00.000-08:00

We return to normal programming from later on today. In the meantime, if you missed out on anything I wrote while blogging at Alyssa's site, then you can read my entries here;

http://alyssarosenberg.blogspot.com/2009/12/judging-by-your-books-cover.html
http://alyssarosenberg.blogspot.com/2009/12/bigelow-for-best-director.html
http://alyssarosenberg.blogspot.com/2009/12/it-takes-village.html
http://alyssarosenberg.blogspot.com/2009/12/education.html
http://alyssarosenberg.blogspot.com/2009/12/maybe-this-time-hes-learnt-his-lesson.html
http://alyssarosenberg.blogspot.com/2009/12/dont-worry-its-just-for-charity.html
http://alyssarosenberg.blogspot.com/2009/12/wanted-female-icons-to-teach-film.html

Guest Blogging...

2009-12-04T07:45:00.000-08:00

I will be guest blogging over at pop culture maven and fellow vampire fan Alyssa Rosenberg's blog for the next 2 weeks. I will have the odd post up here, but most of my writing will be on her site.

alyssarosenberg.blogspot.com

Re-thinking GaGa

2009-11-30T14:44:00.000-08:00

I think I am going to have to be a little less dismissive of Lady GaGa.

hen she first appeared, she seemed so studied and artificial as a creation that I couldn't get a sense of any life or juice from her as an artist. She seemed to be a bit too desperately quirky, which aside from the 'bored hispter' attitude, is about my least favourite pop culture trope. I didn't actually like most of her music (I still don't as a matter of fact) and couldn't imagine that she would become the dominating force that she has become.

But slowly, in the last two months I have started to re-think my original position. It started with Paparazzi, a song I actually liked and thought had some pretty interesting lyrical ideas. It continued on to Bad Romance, and in particular the fantastic video which I thought was the first time that I could see her bringing elements of her style together in a visually interesting way. And now she has launched her new tour which the Guardian has convinced me would be something of a must see.

We constantly harp on about how homogenous pop music is, how reality TV and conglomerates spit out identikit acts at a frightening pace. I think I was too quick to judge Lady GaGa - it was an act of intellectual laziness to merely assume she was bullshit. I don't quite know if GaGa can really become the Madonna for the next generation. We don't have any other contenders. But she does seem to be aiming for some kind of pop art symbiosis of the visual and aural which Madonna achieved at her height in the late eighties/early nineties which is actually quite daring in today's market. Working within the circumscribed parameters of a mass-market pop star she is attempting to be different. I hope she continues to have that opportunity, because ultimately, pop music is more interesting with her in it.

And on the note of interesting pop music, here is a link I found on a blogger called Stalepopcornau. Its a live performance at an Aussie music awards show of three female singers who I had not heard of. I think the three sound sensational - each having their own different groove but utterly beguiling in their own right.

Defining what it means to be gay

2009-11-30T14:01:00.000-08:00

You may have noticed that this is a very gay blog. That is no accident, since I am a very gay person. I don't like to think that being gay as my sole defining characteristic, but it is certainly something which I see as being intrinsically part of me. I think being gay, accepting that part of myself and engaging with the feelings of exclusion which it can sometimes bring from 'mainstream' society has made me a better person - more empathetic and understanding then I might otherwise have been. It forced me to grow up early and quickly. I don't want to sound like I have the whole life thing figured out or anything (I am still a regular fuck-up) but being gay is important to me. I wouldn't be straight for the world.

I know that my own personal acceptance of being gay is not the case for many people - that their individual journeys towards an acceptance of their sexuality can be immeasurably more torturous and complicated for personal, family, social, economic or religious reasons. I do not think there is a single way of being gay or a gay identity that all homos should be aiming towards. Which is why I think the current battle lines which are being drawn in California about the question of what it means to be gay are so fascinating. I can't imagine another minority who would be subjected to this kind of invasive questioning of their very right to exist. Religion, which I see as far more mutable and less defensible then sexuality would never have been subjected to this. But if there is one thing that American gays have learnt, it is the the usual rules just don't apply to them.

A little background for those not up to speed. In 2008 Californian voters passed Proposition 8, which over-turned the state Supreme Court ruling allowing gay people to marry. This defeat for gay rights, which took place the same night as Obama's victory, was a deep shock to the gay community. After months of recriminations, and some fairly convincing post-mortems about how the campaign was distorted by the lies of religious organisations, a strategy of attacking the proposition at a state court level and working to repeal it at another election was instituted by the leading gay rights organisations.

Then, in stepped David Boies and Ted Olsen, conservative legal stars who nevertheless recognised gay marriage as an civil rights issue and one which they fervently supported. Against the wishes of the mainstream gay organisations, they filed against the proposition in federal court in the states, with a view to eventually taking the case to the US Supreme Court. Broadly, if they succeeded, the Supreme Court would grant gay people the title of 'suspect class' and in that single ruling, the entire edifice of state and federal gay discrimination laws would be struck down. It is a breath-taking gamble - one that has the potential to massively advance gay rights or trip them up for decades to come.

You should read the article to get a sense of what is in play here. Essentially, the Court would be asked to rule that being gay is something intrinsic to a person's identity. That it is not something destructive to society which state and federal authorities have the right to draft discriminatory laws against. All these things which are self-evident to gay people are potentially to be out in the hands of nine elderly people - six men, three women, largely conservative and disproportionally Catholic.

This is insane.

No, let me say that again, this is INSANE!

I have no idea what the chance of Olson and Boies winning are. I doubt anybody does. But Olson and Boies are not babes in the wood. They were opposing lead counsels in the historic Bush v Gore case which decided the 2000 Presidential election. Their reasons for taking this chance are routed in a basic belief that gay people have waited long enough (one which the current occupants of the White House and Downing Street would do well to think on). It would force a clear, almost foundation level debate about who gay people are, and what their role in society is, without the clouding theatrics of the Sky Fairy Brigade.

Perhaps that type of apocalyptic showdown is precisely what America needs in order to see gay rights as a true civil rights issue. These piecemeal referenda in states play directly into the hands of bigots by denying gay people a grander narrative about oppression, one which is vital if straight people are to sit up and take notice. A Supreme Court battle, pitching conservative lawyers against religiously funded opposition about the role of gay people in civil society would be about as ideal a framing as possible in the current climate.

I don't mean to imply that everything is hunky dory over here in the UK. On Friday I went to the Rapahel Samuel's Memorial Lecture which was given historian Jeffrey Weeks about the development of the gay community in the last couple of decades and he made it clear that while there have been huge strides in the legal status of gay rights in England, there was still work to be done, particularly around ensuring full marriage equality and that homosexuality is included in the proposed Equality Bill. Once that's done, there is only the small matter of centuries of toxic socially ingrained homophobia to counteract. As the movements for gender and racial quality have shown, laws are ultimately only part of the battle if the social forces favouring oppression aren't similarly engaged.

A Tale of Two Journalists - Part 2

2009-11-27T04:08:00.000-08:00

OK, after that cleansing rant, I get to discuss a writer whose work always gives me hope for its intelligence, passion and determination to fight for those without a voice.

Johann Hari is 30 years old, and if I could point to a career is journalism as emblematic of what I would have wanted to achieve, then Hari’s is it. He is an openly gay writer in an industry that is suffocatingly macho, who has taken on some of the most difficult and complex topics in modern society. For a taster of his work, read his recent piece in The Independent about the rise of a group of ex-Jihadists who are trying to turn young Muslims away from extremism. Like all his best work, it is wonderfully clear sighted, tough but empathetic. His archive at http://www.johannhari.com/ is a treasure trove of provocative, well written and impassioned journalism.

Plus anybody who can come up with a list of enemies like this must be doing something correct;

Since he began work as a journalist, Johann has been attacked by the National Review, the Daily Telegraph, the Daily Mail, John Pilger, Daniel '007' Craig, Peter Mandelson, Peter Oborne, Private Eye, the Socialist Worker, Cristina Odone, Jon Gaunt, the Spectator, Andrew Neil, Mark Steyn, the British National Party, Medialens, al Muhajaroun and Richard Littlejohn. 'Prince' Turki Al-Faisal, the Saudi Ambassador to Britain, has accused Johann of "waging a private jihad against the House of Saud". (He's right). Johann has been called 'Maoist' by Nick Cohen, 'Horrible Hari' by Niall Ferguson, "an uppity little queer" by Bruce Anderson, 'a drug addict' by George Galloway, "fat" by the Dalai Lama and "a cunt" by Busted.

Yet I find myself torn by his latest article, which concerns the continued downplaying of the effect of older men having sex with younger boys in the work of some famous gay writers.

This is dangerous territory for any gay writer to go into, and it is a mark of Hari’s own bravery and respect for those he admires that he criticises three gay cultural icons in such an honest fashion. Hari detects in the work of Stephen Fry, and especially Alan Bennett a deliberate insistence that young teenage boys who are fondled or abused by older men aren’t being damaged in any way, and further, that it is the adult who is really the victim in the power exchange.

I think it is worth quoting Hari at length so you can get a sense of what he is trying to say;

What I object to is not the compassionate depiction of these men, but the claim that the victims are unharmed, or even enjoy it. This suggestion has featured in the work of several writers I normally admire. In Bennett's previous play The History Boys, a 50-something teacher called Hector routinely gropes his 17-year-old pupils' genitals – and they react either with flattered amusement, or by longing to be the next to be groped. The headmaster who objects is depicted as a prejudiced buffoon…
In interviews, Bennett makes it clear he is on Hector's side, saying: "I've been criticised for not taking this seriously enough. I'm afraid I don't take that very seriously if they're 17 or 18. I think they are actually much wiser than Hector. Hector is the child, not them." He added that good teaching is inherently "erotic".
In his new play, Bennett takes this analysis further. Benjamin Britten, the composer, is one of the main characters. He was sexually attracted to young boys – 13 was his
perfect age – and throughout his life he picked out choirboys, gave them a special role in performing his music, and lavished adoration on them… Yet Bennett, in his introduction to the play, expresses only one problem with this. "A boy whose voice suddenly broke could find himself no longer invited ... which would seem potentially far more damaging to a child's psychology than too much attention." He also spares a thought for the "fat boys and ugly boys" who were never admitted to this sanctum.

If Hari is quoting fairly from the themes of Bennett’s work (and I have no reason to doubt him) then this is hugely problematic and he is right to call out a writer for what I would agree is a complete moral failing, even if that writer is one as beloved as Bennett is.

But I do find myself torn by this article, for two reasons.

Firstly, one of the age old canards that all gay people, but especially men, face is that we are a bunch of paedophiles, preying on young boys and recruiting them into a life of sexual depravity. However, a difficult reality for gay men is that a lot of us will have had our first sexual experience as a teenager with an older man. We like to think that this is something natural and that no harm between any party was done. We then extrapolate that to all such couplings without thinking through the power dynamics inherent in each situation.

A lot of gay men will defend Bennett by saying that as a teenage boy they were gagging for sex and that they were the ones who seduced an adult (most often an authority figure). And that’s fine for them if that was their experience, but as always, the plural of anecdote is not data. Just because their specific experience didn’t appear to damage them, does not mean that this holds true for others. There is a perfectly valid reason for concepts such as the age of consent, and abuse of trust and we shouldn’t seek to downplay these for fear of the results (just look at the latest reports of Catholic Church abuses in Ireland to see the end result of that particular mindset).

I don't believe that Hari should not have written the article, but there is a part of me which winces when I think of the reactionary dickheads who will read this and have their suspicions confirmed. But that isn't Hari's fault - he should not censore himself because others will miss the nuance and sophistication of his writing.

My second point is that I don’t think Hari makes a proper distinction between the different age groups he discusses. A 13 year old is different developmentally from a 17 year old – while the potential for abuse is present in both cases, the power dynamics are different. I have less of a problem with some of the material in The History Boys (where they are older teenagers) then I would with what Britten does with 13 years olds.

This is the type of area where I feel myself on really shaky ground. For example, I went to see An Education on Tuesday (brilliant film by the way!) which looks at the relationship between a 16 year old schoolgirl and an ‘older man’ in 1960s London. The relationship, which turns explicitly sexual on her 17th birthday, is shown as a complex entity, with the dynamic between both characters shifting at different points. There are emotional and social costs to the girl when the relationship implodes, but it is ultimately seen, at least I believe it is, as a positive experience.

I had sex with an older guy when I was 17. It was not with anybody who was in a position of responsibility over me, and it was something I initiated and wanted. And yet I am slapped in the face by my earlier phrase about the plural of anecdote not being data. I think ultimately it is a complex intermingling of age, maturity and the relative position of the older person which determines the appropriateness of something like this. But blanket statements that Bennett makes do have the effect of creating a chilling atmosphere for those who were damaged to come forward and face their abusers. That is a shameful blind spot for a writer who was so expert at placing himself in the shoes of a wide variety of characters.

A Tale of Two Journalists - Part 1

2009-11-27T03:56:00.000-08:00

I studied journalism because I wanted to change the world.

I fled journalism because I realised I was a romantic idiot.

Every so often an article crops out that through its sheer shameless nastiness becomes emblematic of precisely why I am thankful, though I sometimes regret my cowardice, that I no longer have to make the moral calculation of working for a newspaper. Simply put, I would never want to be in the situation where economic or professional considerations would force me to write for a pile of vomit and diarrhoea like The Daily Mail or The Express.

The Daily Mail currently has a story running that exemplifies everything that is rotten and disease ridden about its mindset. It is not a story written by a new writer, but by Sue Reid, a disgraceful piece of shit who has been caught inventing stories to scaremonger about immigrants before. The story is almost too depressing to go into, but basically, Reid was ‘sent’ a picture of a map in Chelsea and Westminster hospital which allowed mothers in the ante-natal unit to put a sticker on their country of origin. There were a lot of stickers placed in countries around the world, and not that many on the UK. From this flimsy piece of evidence, Reid concluded that foreign babies were putting a ‘strain’ on NHS services.

Yes, this vile, nasty woman has decided that treating sick babies is a strain on one of London’s most famous hospitals because she saw a picture of a map with stickers on it. From that, she used a couple of anonymous quotes from ‘concerned’ mothers and a lot of baseless alarmist rhetoric to say… what exactly? That sick babies should be turned away? That foreigners are taking spaces that English (ie white) babies should be given? She has absolutely no proof of any of this other than a poster on a fucking wall with a couple of fucking stickers on it.

Stuck at the very end of the article is the hospital’s response which demolishes Reid’s article for the careless, nasty little stitch-up that it is. It turns out the poster has been up for four years, while there are approximately 600 babies treated every year. This year, only two babies have been from overseas parents.

Sue Reid should be sacked. But it’s The Daily Mail, home to the slimy, deranged quintet of Amanda Platell, Richard Littlejohn, Peter Hitchens, Melanie Phillips and Jan Moir so nobody should be surprised. She fits right in with their hateful little screeds.

And for proof that it’s not just The Mail, check out the front page of today’s Express.

The reason I get upset about this, is that this stuff matters. It might be a rhetorical game to sell papers to Paul Dacre and his parasitical bosses but millions of people have their views on the state of Britain shaped by this type of shit. Solving the problems of a multicultural society which has a massive and growing income gap with an ageing population and paralysed political system is made immeasurably harder by media which lies and distorts reality to such an alarming degree. It is a daily barrage of lazy, racist, misogynist and homophobic crap that is designed purely to tell its readership that there is an us and them and it is their fault that your life feels like it is spinning out of control.

Anton Vowl, who does Trojan work at Enemies of Reason put together his Top 10 Things I've Hated Reading in the Newspapers This Year. It makes for depressing but necessary reading, and shows the depth that these publications sink to (I would add The Spectator’s AIDS denialism to that list but am too depressed to try and remember any more).

Once more, this stuff matters. When Reid makes a completely baseless claim that a hospital is under strain when it treats sick children of foreign born parents, the unspoken idea is that there are British children who suffer. It’s no wonder that the BNP and other racist organisations see The Daily Mail as there best friend. It is an almost perfect reflection of their values.

I don’t want every paper to be The Independent or The Guardian. There is a space for principled right wing and conservative voices. But that’s not what The Mail or The Express are. I wouldn’t use them to wipe a dog’s arse.

I'm in love with Ben Goldacre

2009-11-24T15:15:00.000-08:00

Because I read so many books, I tend to form intense, passionate attachments to authors. I can actually get turned on by an author's style or voice. In that spirit, I would like to say that I want to make passionate, geeky love with Ben Goldacre's big squishy brain.

I first came across Goldacre through his Guardian column Bad Science and website badscience.net. Goldacre did the entire world a service by doing the painstaking but ultimately rewarding work of exposing Gillian McKeith as the fraudulent scold that she is. I am almost finished his first book and it is everything that I have always wanted to read.

Bad Science (The Book) is basically a fun, clear and concise distillation of the basics of scientific testing and trials. He uses real world examples to show how quacks, doctors, researchers, major corporations and the media routinely misuse data, either on purpose or because they don't know any better and how that dangerously skews our knowledge on a range of health and lifestyle issues.

Goldacre is scrupulously fair and hugely entertaining. Like Bill Bryson's A Short History of Neary Everything, it is a book whose enthusiasm for sharing knowledge is palpable. He wants his readers to understand that the fundamentals of science is not out of reach of the general population and that it is in all our interests to be able to make a basic judgement on a piece of research which could be used to justify costly but useless interventions.

I have a feeling this is one I will be using and returning to for a long time to come.

Civil Disobedience

2009-11-23T19:10:00.000-08:00

This follows on perfectly from my previous post about the marriage equality debate in Ireland.

At 10.15am Katherine Doyle and Tom Freeman will head to Islington Registry Office and attempt to register for a civil partnership. It is almost certain that it will be denied, as civil partnerships are only available to gay and lesbian couples. Doyle and Freeman believe that the civil partnership law, which enshrined a 'separate but equal' status for same sex couples is discriminatory and they intend to prove this by forcing the British Government to defend the law under the EU equalities legislation.

Thank you Katherine and Tom.

Unlike Ireland, the civil partnership law in the UK gives same sex couples exactly the same rights as married couples. It just refuses to recognise them as married. Nobody can quite articulate why this should be the case, aside from vague and predictable appeals to tradition.

Tom has written about the reasons behind his decision and I think he puts it more eloquently then I can.

Update

As expected, Islington Council have refused their application and Katherine and Tom say they will seek legal advice on whether to take this to the European Court. Good luck to them, and I think that the gay community should support them.

There seems to be a little bit of a disconnect between some gay people about what Katherine and Tom are trying to do. I have read a lot of comments saying that this is just an attempt by straight people to colonise civil partnerships. I think it is pretty clear that the couple are doing this in order to highlight the discriminatory aspect of the civil marriage/partnership split. Seriously, there is simply no good reason for gay couples to have a separate mode of state recognition for their partnership as straight couples. The only real arguments are based on religious grounds. But since religions will always be free to exempt themselves from blessing any unions they do no approve of, it makes no sense to have the state be similarly discriminatory.

Marriage Equality in Ireland

2009-11-23T18:51:00.000-08:00

One of my best friends visited me over the weekend and we had a long talk about the marriage equality debate which is going on in Ireland. The Irish Government is in advanced stages of putting a civil partnership bill through the Irish Parliament. To be fair, this is much sooner then I ever thought Ireland would move on the issue so I think the Government should be commended on that basis. I'm sure the Fianna Fail government themselves thought this would only reflect well on them, and that the gay community itself would be tripping over themselves in gratitude. Considering homosexuality was only decriminalised in 1993, this wasn't an unfair expectation.

What has actually happened is a split has occurred in the gay community between those who support the introduction of civil unions and those for whom this second best option is not enough. Those who support the law, understandably, are excited about finally being given legal protection for their relationships. For many people who have lived with Ireland's stifling homophobia, the idea that their lives and relationships are being officially sanctioned, even if they are being treated as second best, is a historic moment.

However, there is a large and vocal constituency for whom the Civil Partnership Bill is unacceptable. They argue that the Bill enshrines discrimination into Irish law, and that the Constitution, which doesn't define marriage as an institution between men and women but does state that all citizens should be treated equally, should guarantee that gay couples receive full civil marriage equality.

My initial thoughts were that if the Bill offers full rights to gay couples, then it may be worth accepting it as the political will to push for full marriage equality may not be there (the Irish Government is in serious trouble at the moment). The Catholic Church is cowed after the damning Ryan report into systematic sexual abuse by priests and nuns in Irish institution, so there may never be a better moment then now to introduce this. I even argued this with Robert. But the Bill doesn't offer full rights and, crucially in my opinion, denies couples who are civil partnered adoption rights. This decision, which was taken in a nauseating attempt to placate the 'family values' crowd in Ireland actually is a piece of hateful anti-family discrimination and to me would be a deal breaker.

It is a horrible choice that gay people in Ireland are having to make - and it is easy for me to sit here in London and pass judgement on what they should or should not do. But I think that the compromises in the legislation go too far. With full marriage equality now happily enshrined in several countries, even ultra-Catholic Spain, we know that the Chicken Little-sky-is-falling predictions about the potential destruction of marriage as an institution by allowing gays to take part is bollocks. It also seems that a majority of Irish people actually support giving gay couples full marriage rights. So why this legislation which is actually less progressive than the Irish population?

Marriage is seen in a slightly skewed way in Ireland compared to a lot of Europe. Divorce was illegal until the nineties, so it was incredibly rare for couples to split up until very recently. Marriage was intensely associated with the Catholic Church and there was really no concept of a separate civil institution. Since most people would instinctively view a marriage as incomplete if only done in a registry office, they have less of a problem about opening it up to gay people. That's my pet theory anyway.

Still though, its exciting to hear that gay people are becoming more visible and empowered, which can only help successive generations as they come out. The debate in the gay community has spilled over into the general population, with many leading media and political figures coming out in favour of full marriage equalityh. This is a hugely exciting development.

This has been a difficult day for me personally, and I didn't think that anything could cheer me up. But my friend Robert told me to track down the speech given by Dublin drag queen Panti at this year's Pride and I am glad I did. I was really moved by what Panti said, as well as the sight of hundreds of proud Irish gay men and women cheering in the bright sunshine. I would have loved to have been there.

To Lost Friends

2009-11-23T16:00:00.000-08:00

I found out this afternoon that a friend of mine died suddenly on Saturday night. He was somebody who I had only really gotten to know in the past year. I knew his partner longer - he died earlier in the year. Both men were responsible for giving me the incredible gift of my first flat, where I am typing this right now.

Tiny was one of the most decent, generous, open-hearted men I have known. I think its cruel and shitty that he was taken this weekend. Mike's death was horrible, but he was surrounded by those he loved and who he had the chance to speak with before the cancer and stroke took him. He died, comfortable, in his own flat with his husband with him. Tiny wasn't allowed that

With Mike, I got the chance to say goodbye and to say thank you. With Tiny, this will have to do. Thank you so much for everything - you were a truly good man.

Top 10 Reasons that Untitled is My Favourite Film of the Noughties

2009-11-23T15:42:00.000-08:00

I have decided that Untitled is my favourite film of the decade. Note that I didn't call it the best - I think there are too many films of real enduring quality for me to even think about what might be the best. But it is my favourite, the one that speaks directly to me, the one that best reflects what I love most about art.

Quick note before I begin the count down; most people will know Untitled by the name of the theatrical version of the film - Almost Famous. I always adored the film in that incarnation, but the director's cut version, which restores about 30 minutes or so of footage and was renamed Untitled is a thing to treasure. It is that version of the film that I am discussing here.

Number 10
The moment in the title sequence where Frances McDormand's name is spelt wrong and the unseen writer rubs out the error and corrects it. I don't quite know why, but that moment kills me every time.

Number 9
Speaking of Frances McDormand, she makes number 9 on my list for portraying the best mother in cinema history. Just as Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mockingbird is the cinema dad I have always wanted, Frances McDormand as Elaine Miller would be my cinema mum. Modelled closely on Crowe's own mother (who is an utter and complete delight in the commentary track on Untitled), Alice is vibrant, intelligent, infuriating and marvellously alive. A lot of actresses would have done well with this brilliantly written role. But McDormand is magical - giving an indelible portrait of parental love and anxiety without ever losing her individuality as character. She often turns on a dime between comedy and pathos in the same scene and nobody is as good at giving a dressing down as she is - the scene where she berates Russell and then tells him to go do his best ("be bold and mighty forces will come to your aide") encapsulates everything that is moving, funny and tender about the character in just 2 minutes of screentime.

Number 8
The film is wonderfully astute about the relationship between a journalist and his subject. The scenes of Russell's subtle manipulation of the star struck William ably highlight the compromises that most journalists face as they get close to their subjects. William is presented with a dilemma - as a fan of Stillwater, he is given unprecedented access to the band. But to create his own art, he must in some way destroy his friendship and risk destroying the band also. It sort of ties in with that Michael Chabon interview I highlighted a couple of days ago - William learns that to be a real fan, one must also be a critic. Or in the words of the the immortal Phillip Seymour Hoffman playing Lester Bangs "You wanna be a true friend to them? Be honest, and unmerciful.". I think journalists could do a lot worse then having that phrase tattooed on the foreheads so they see it every time they look in the mirror.

Number 7
Crowe's films are always glorious acting ensembles and Untitled is just a dizzying array of talent right down to the extras. Though I highlight two actors in particular on this list (no prizes for guessing who the second will be), the whole cast are exceptional. Billy Crudup simply is Russell Hammond - it is the type of performance which should have turned him into a major star and seen him nominated for an Oscar. Jason Lee mines amazing levels of comedy and surprising pathos as the terminally second place lead singer (he also should have been up for Supporting Actor that yEAR). Zooey Deshanel, Anna Paquin and Fairuza Balk give little masterclasses in creating characters that feel alive with minimal screen time. Every single performance is perfectly on key. Patrick Fugit, who was damned with a sort of faint praise in many of the original reviews is really wonderful as William. He has a natural, unforced innocence which works beautifully. I have long liked the idea of giving an Oscar for an ensemble as the Screen Actors Guild does, and that the casting director should be given the award. In 2001, Untitled would have been my choice and Gail Levin, who also put together the superb cast for Jerry Maguire, gets my fantasy award for her brilliant work.

Number 6
The music. I admit it, I have virtually no musical aptitude. I am one of those rare people who just doesn't listen to a lot of music, though I love to read and listen to people talk about why it moves them. But I know when it works in cinema and the music in Untitled is wonderful - both the song choices on the soundtrack and the instrumental pieces written for the film. I mean you would expect that a film about a band would pay attention to music, but Crowe's choices never feel obvious and the music accentuates the emotions of the film without ever ever feeling false or manipulative.

Plus, this...

This scene almost instantly became a source of parody, but it has also rightly become a something of a defining scene for Crowe's aesthetic as a artist.

"You are home" = genius.

Number 5
In the Untitled DVD commentary, Cameron Crowe talks about how Kate Hudson was originally signed on to play William's sister Anita. But as the process of casting continued, it became clear that she was the right choice for Penny Lane and she eventually won the role. I had a look at Hudson's bio on IMDB and she really hadn't done anything before Almost Famous. Seeing her performance in the film, it's hard to believe that anybody else could have been chosen. Penny Lane is a challenging role - she has to play a muse, somebody who everybody is a little or a lot in love with. Hudson does this effortlessly - the character feels instantly iconic, but, once more, alive and real. I think if you were to make a list of greatest performances of the noughties, she would have to be a contender. It's gorgeous, soulful, funny and sexy work and I don't give a shit about how many crappy films she made since. She helped give the world Penny Lane. For that, I will always be grateful.

Number 4
The script. I am in awe of what Crowe achieved with this screenplay. He says repeatedly what a challenge it was for him to make this film but it never shows on screen. There is an effortlessness to the entire thing. Scenes are stuffed with sparkling dialogue. Characters not only breathe onscreen but feel like they live outside the film as well. You could train the focus of the movie on anybody and create an interesting story. It's ultimately a romance - for music, for people, for a time in your life. This was used by some critics to attack the film for not being a 'warts and all' portrayal. But that wasn't the story that Crowe set out to tell, and wasn't necessarily his actual experiences either. The movie is honest about the emotional costs for each of the characters, which end up being considerable. The happy ending feels completely earned. I thought Crowe's script for Jerry Maguire was one of the finest of the nineties and never received the credit it deserved. Untitled is even better, and he can rest easy knowing he has written something which can be spoken of in the same terms as the best of his idol, Billy Wilder.

Number 3
The film is just gorgeous to look at, a visual marvel that you can watch on silent and just drink in John Toll's marvellous cinematography and Betsy Heimann's fabulous costumes, both of whom should have at least been nominated for Oscars. Heimann should have won - think of how much of Penny Lane's impact is due to the look created for her by Heimann (that coat alone deserves its own special award). Untitled isn't overtly flashy but it is there are several sequences and moments, big and small which feel burned on to my memory (the final moments after William's first concert when it is just him and Penny outside the stadium for example) and I think is about as good an example of pure, classic, beautiful photography that I can think of.

Number 2
The vibe. Ultimately, everything I have spoken about are the elements of the film that I adore. But what makes the film special is the indefinable vibe that it generates. Moment to moment, scene to scene it gradually builds until it leaves me giddy and joyful and inspired at the final fade out. Not everybody will be as clued into the vibe as I am. As I mentioned above, the film speaks directly to me on so many levels, not least because it is basically my fantasy onscreen. If I could write something as generous and beautiful as this one day, I would consider my life well led. You can sense it amongst the cast. You can sense it between Crowe and his wonderful mum on the DVD commentary. Close your eyes and listen to the characters talk and you can feel that vibe singing right off the screen. If you haven't realised it yet - I adore it.

Number 1
This... proving that sometimes you can still capture magic on screen

2009-11-20T14:38:00.000-08:00

Stalepopcornau had one of those insights that struck me as so perfect and true that I wondered how I didn't think of it before.

Bring It On is one of the greatest sports movies ever made.

No, please, don't run away... I am completely serious.

Bring it On is a great little teen comedy about cheerleaders. But within that seemingly narrow range it examines and interrogates a huge variety of issues - about race and cultural appropriation, about competitiveness and judgement and finally about learning to live with second place. The film is joyous about celebrating how two talented teams can push each other to new heights, and though it acknowledges that one team has to win, it shows that success ultimately comes in many forms.

Like all the best teen movies, Bring It On is stylised - it doesn't take place in the 'real world' but being slightly removed from our reality allows the film to approach genuine social issues with wit and verve. I won't claim that it is necessarily the deepest movie ever made about any the topics it looks at, but by even daring to raise and examine them at all it creates a much smarter and more engaging film than it appears on the surface.

I really like how the build-up to the final showdown is portrayed - how the importance of who wins is shown to mean both everything and nothing to the teenagers as they realise what the real value of taking part is. This makes the last minutes sound cloying, but it is actually completely the opposite. There is a casual, almost tossed off quality to the final moments that works beautifully and the final sing along to Hey Mickey is a wonderfully exuberant way to end.

Added to this is some wonderful dialogue, one of the best and most accepting treatments of a gay character of any teen movie in the last decade and some marvellous performances which key right into the theatrical nature of the direction and you have a really underrated gem.

As a taster, here is the great cheerleader audition scene.

'Real' Fans

2009-11-18T15:13:00.000-08:00

Via Alyssa

I first read The Adventures of Kavalier and Clay about four years ago and had the delicious sense as I sunk into the novel that I was reading something that would be with me for the rest of my life - I actually remember the moment exactly. It was the section dealing with the back story of Luna Moth and I am not quite sure why this was the part where it seemed to click with me. But as I read it, I felt something in me move with the words. I didn't feel like I was reading the book, so much as absorbing it, communing with it.

Funny thing is, I haven't read any of his other work, which feels like an oversight on my part. But what I like about Kavalier is that as successful and well known as the novel is, there is something personal about my relationship with it. Plus Chabon had a hand in what is still my favourite comic book film of all time -Spiderman 2 (its not in dispute by the way and don't even mention The Dark Knight...).

This is a slice of what Chabon is saying in a new interview in io9;
　

"People often see fans as in opposition to 'true' creative people." Or rather,
you may be right, "people" do see it that way, but if so then these people are
deeply ignorant of the history of popular culture and its production...The word
"influence" is insufficient and too one-sided to describe a relationship that is much more accurately reflected by the system of tribute/ appropriation/critique that fandom employs. This kind of process, by which one generation of fan/critics (because anyone who doesn't understand that a fan is a critic doesn't know what a fan is, and there is nothing sadder to contemplate than the idea of a critic who is not also a fan) becomes the creators whose work inspires and obsesses and is critiqued by
the next generation of fans, who in turn become critic-creators, has occurred in
every popular art form across the board going back fifty or five thousand years"

I probably should have just told you to go read the entire interview (which, of course, you should do right now). Chabon is saying something which is so on the money that it is startling that it is not a part of our shared, accepted knowledge of How Things Work. But somehow, the old mangled adage that "Those who do, do... Those who don't, critique" seems to have become the accepted wisdom. Fans are another step down the ladder of respect, too often tarred with the brush of mindless ditto-heads following their passions into maze-like minutiae.

I was a passionate fan of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But that didn't preclude me from critiquing it or from being inspired to take the conventions of that show and twist them further to see what I could come up with myself. You can sometimes see it in long-running shows where fans finally start to become members of the writing staff - their writing often brings something fresh and true. I am thinking in Buffy's case of Drew Goddard in Season 7 (and particularly in the glorious episode Selfless) where he gave flagging old characters a fresh and inventive voice. He was a somebody who knew that a real fan would respect and engage with the piece of art that attracts them.

For another example, look at what Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh and Phillipa Boyens did when adapting Lord of the Rings. Clearly, they are fans of the book. But they recognised its limitations as well as its strengths and sought ways to honour the latter while improving the former. They made a love letter to a piece of art they clearly adored but without being servile to it. They took its core emotions, themes and actions and created something living and breathing in its own right. Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright with their deliriusly brilliant Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz are also fans who are free-styling on what turns them on and making something which is in turn invigorating and inspiring to others.

The great genre melds of the last two decades are the ones which have been made by these types of fans. You can't fuck with genres if you don't love them, if you don't get what makes them work in the first place deep in your soul. I have mixed feelings about Tarantino, but if you look at Jackie Brown you can see him approach true greatness because for once he isn't just a slavish devotee of his influences, but he is using them to get at deeper emotional truths in his own work. What dismayed me about Kill Bill and Death Proof was the sense of Tarantino retreating from his and into mindless slavish devotion. Ingloreous Basterds seem to herald a shift back to something purer.

Happy Birthday to Me!

2009-11-18T13:49:00.001-08:00

I am now 28 years old. I have truly passed the mid-twenties stage and am now entering the autumnal splendour of late twenties, with the cold hard winter of 30 looming ominously on the horizon.

Or at least I guess that's the way I should be feeling.

The thing is though, I like getting older. I was such a twit for much of my twenties, and I think I am a better, wiser and more generous person now then I ever was then. It's not as if I didn't enjoy the last six or seven years, but I felt under so much pressure to find my niche in life that I ended up drifting and fucking up for a lot of it. I would grow frustrated that my education seemed to count for nothing, that the world proved colder, and harsher then I hoped. It may sound stupid, but it took me a long time to get over my own arrogance and to realise that I would have to keep working. I sometimes think school and college came to easy for me and I was unprepared for life outside.

This might sound like a downer, but I see it as the opposite. I finally think I am starting to get a handle on life (and please, Oh Karmic Over-Lord, note the qualifiers in that statement!). I have accepted the fact that I am going to fuck up again in future but I have a better sense of what I can accomplish now.

Now Jules and I will just have to make our millions with our talent...

Last night I dreamed I went to Manchester again...

2009-11-06T14:05:00.000-08:00

It doesn't quite have the same ring to it, does it? And yet I got inordinately excited this week because I not only got the chance to go to Manchester, but stay over, all on my lonesome.

I guess feeling such relatively high levels of excitement about staying in a cold, Northern city in the depths of Winter should probably need explanation. The reason is simple - growing up, there weren't many dramas that had such a galvanising experience on me as Queer as Folk.

I am not talking about drama which moved me deeply, or that I became slightly obsessed with (though I consider it a fine piece of television, X-Files or Buffy it ain't). I am talking about one which has an appreciable effect on the course of my life.

I was about 17 when Queer as Folk was first broadcast in Ireland. I was fat, deeply closeted and in many ways, unhappy. I was lucky enough to have a TV in my room and I remember watching the first episode of this gay drama on Channel 4 that was causing such an uproar. I remember clearly lying in bed in the bungalow we lived in out in the country before moving to Douglas and being terrified that somebody would walk in and catch me watching it.

The screen was filled with happy gay men. Doing gay things. Rimming gay holes. You have to understand, I didn't know any gay men, apart from a few whispered about in my drama group who were looked on with a vague condescending pity by everybody else. I knew precisely who and what I was, but I hadn't figured out what being gay actually meant to me apart from what made my cock hard when I wanked. Being gay was a physical sensation at that point - Queer as Folk helped me feel it in my soul.

Despite being petrified that a family member would walk in and catch my watching it, yet my memory is not chiefly one of fear but one of longing and excitement. It was really the first glimpse I got of urban gay life (no matter how romanticised and dramatised it was for the screen). And it was sexy, and funny and sweet and a million different things that I wanted life to be. I I didn't want to be any one character, but a kind of glorious amalgamation of them all. I even wanted their problems, heartbreaks and disappointments. And I really REALLY wanted Stuart's flat.

It was the freedom that was expressed, the sheer celebratory queerness of the whole thing that caught me. At that point I promised myself that I would leave Ireland. It had always been a desire but I don't think I actually allowed myself to believe I would.

After I watched Queer as Folk, it no longer felt like a choice but a burning necessity.

I still think the show, especially the first proper season, is a warm, witty and exciting piece of television. Russel T Davies did something really smart in making the narrative ultimately about friendship and the types of families we (and especially gay people) create for ourselves when we escape to urban environments. By making it clear that Stuart and Vince would never shag but would live in constant tension, the show managed to mine a fresh vein of emotional territory that made it distinct from much of what was on TV. In this case, the sexuality of the characters did matter, but not the way that people commonly thought. The nearest straight antecedent that I can think of is probably Mulder and Scully but even then there is something uniquely gay about it.

Anyway, back to Manchester...

Like all things in life, Canal Street seemed smaller when I saw it in real life. I mean, really smaller. I tramped around in the dark, freezing rain of November, ducking into a few places and wandering about in a slightly happy state. I left the place early (I was up at the crack for work) but also content to have at least established its actual existence and eager to come back with friends and in the sun.

Canal Street as a geographical location is ultimately unimportant to me. Like Barbary Lane in San Francisco (I was also first exposed to Tales of the City through Channel 4), its importance lies far more in the hope it gave me growing up. It let me know there was another world out there. And while my life can be difficult and lonely, it is also richer and more beautiful for having taken the plunge and chasing that ideal.

Man of Extremes

2009-11-06T13:57:00.000-08:00

The New Yorker had a great, meaty profile of James Cameron that I have been waiting for a week or two to dig into. Luckily the train journey to Manchester gave me the opportunity.

I love Cameron's work. Along with Steven Spielberg and Peter Jackson, I consider him the best mainstream Hollywood director working. I would get excited if any of these guys filmed the phone book - and even their misfires have moments of genius in them (though I admit, with Hook, you may have to look hard for that).

Cameron makes action movies for 13 year old boys that manage to speak to a vastly bigger audience. No other action director, apart perhaps from Howard Hawks (and lumping them together as action directors would probably have cineastes burning me in effigy) has become so singularly identified with the vision of an active heroine. His women aren't all first act bluster only to fall by the way side narratively in the third act. If anything, he works in reverse, allowing his female heroes to grow in stature as the film progresses until they become truly awesome icons. Sarah Connor, Ellen Ripley and Rose DuWitt-Bukater (and yes I did know how to spell that without looking it up so STFU) are grand, romantic, maternal visions of power, so much more vital and interesting then the penises that surround them.

Of course he isn't perfect. He seemed to go through a period in the late eighties/early nineties where his own difficult personal life bled across into misogyny on the screen. But even his most problematic character (the squirm inducing first half humiliation of Jamie Lee Curtis' Helen Tasker in True Lies) is somewhat redeemed, both in the performance of Curtis who is sublimely funny and sexy, but also in the understanding that her husband is a prick who has neglected his wife's strength and is reaping the rewards.

I will even mount a spirited defense of Titanic if you get enough alcohol in me. And not just in the milquetoast way of "I like it when the boat starts sinking". As a Titanic buff growing up, the film had me at hello. I even enjoy all the shipboard romance stuff, as cornpoke as it is. I think the actors are all fine and the dialogue isn't half as bad as what is commonly believed. You could remove or re-write three or four scenes and most of the wost and least defensible stuff would be gone (that fucking painting scene... even I won''t defend "He'll never amount to a thing!"). But think of what Cameron gets right in that film which could have gone wrong - especially his treatment of Gloria Stuart as Old Rose and Kate Winslet as Young Rose.

I found the New Yorker profile to be brilliantly written and endlessly fascinating. I knew Cameron was a shit, famously arrogant and confrontational even for a Hollywood director, but who knew he was such a ginormously epic arrogant shit? I get the sense from Dana Goodyear that she doesn't think much of Cameron's films, but that's fine as I don't think she uses that as an excuse to turn in a hatchet job on the director. Better this harsher tone that gets at something fundamental and honest about the guy than the normal slavish tongue bath that something like Empire magazine would give him.

There is nothing anonymous about Cameron. He hasn't done many films, but each film feels distinct from the other, and they form a unique oeuvre in their own right. An obsession, near fetishisation of military hardware. Apocalyptic visions. Female empowerment. A sentimental streak a mile wide but also a love of vicarious destruction. I have watched all his films multiple times (and have become strangely entranced by The Abyss which ranks close to my favourite of his films - Aliens) and can almost forgive him his attitude to others because of the results

I said almost...

What the article makes clear, and which is already well known, is that working for Cameron is a hellish experience. It is such a commonly held notion that actors and technicians are probably given some form of hazard pay for signing on with him. As one of the designers says in the article, when the director knows how to do everything, you better not bullshit him or he'll go ape. I can't help feeling that success only made this worse. I mean when Titanic swept the world in 1998 (and swept it did - despite their hype and popularity, The Dark Knight and Return of the King made just over half of what Titanic did worldwide) after being written off pre-release as Cameron's grand folly, it was obviously going to reaffirm his own self-belief. Add that to a personality prone to high levels of arrogance and it was never going to be pretty.

I do find this annoying however. I don't actually think Cameron ultimately gets better work from people by screaming and acting like a big child. He may believe so, but you take a look at the hellish pressure of Peter Jackson's team across all 3 Lord of the Rings films and then King Kong and you get a sense of how an actual human being can manage relationships to still achieve astonishing results. It may be because Jackson has figured out a way to work with his wife, the amazing Fran Walsh which keeps him grounded and the two of them share the burden, both physically and artistically of putting a film together. Cameron, who has worked in various capacities with several wives, never had a strong enough counterpoint for more than a few years. At the end of the day, he doesn't have to act like a shit and I like the way that the profile doesn't shrug it off, as so many do, by explaining it as a quirk of the successful.

I think of the analogy to how chef's work. I have heard and read in several places that the best run kitchen's are not those with a titanically bad behaved muppet as its centre, screaming abuse at a cowed staff (a la Gordon Ramsey), but through quiet team work wedded to steel eyed vision. Cameron seems to have the vision but no idea how to actually engage with a team.

Having said all that, I can't wait or Avatar. I don;t care what the naysayers think, I thought the new trailer was stunning. I do have issues with the plot as outlined (a 'foreigner' teaches the natives how to win is really old hat at the moment) but I think you have to be pretty jaded not to be excited by the imagery and kineticism of the trailers so far.

Cartman Sucks...

2009-11-03T13:15:00.000-08:00

...but South Park definitely doesn't.

I don't know why episodes of South Park can still shock me with their quality. The show has been running for over a decade now and practically every show that has run that length of time has become a shadow of itself. In fact, I am trying to come up with one right now which bucked that trend (answers on a postcard...)

Eexcept for South Park. The show that has never quite achieved the critical acclaim of The Simpsons but has, for years now, been churning out series after series of intelligent, brilliantly written satire that just happens to have some of the most inspired toilet humour of any show ever. I know it's this mixture, the extremeness of its comedic vision, which has stopped it from fully crossing over (apart from a brief period in the 90s where it threatened ubiquity) but it has also allowed the show to continue as the rougher, cruder little brother of the staider and dumber cartoon sitcoms.

I love it. It has reached the point where I would probably put it above The Simpsons as the greatest animated show ever, purely because it never suffered the extreme drop off in quality that The Simpsons suffered after about 8 years. It is still the angriest show on television, but tempers that anger at the stupidity of the world with some surprising sweetness and a willingness to go to absolutely any length to get a joke. This may make it sound like Family Guy, but unlike that series, South Park keeps its eye firmly on story and theme. It is a far more coherent show that genuinely wants to be about something.

I watched an episode from its 11th season tonight called Cartman Sucks. In it, Cartman attempts to take a picture of Butters sucking his dick (lllooooooonnnngggg story). Butters father walks in and sees them and immediately decides Butters must be bi-curious and sends him off to a camp where he can pray away with gay.

The episode is a vicious, brilliant destruction of the whole ex-gay myth. Each scene in the camp ends with one of the kids killing themselves from misery. The ex-gay brought on to show them how effective the treatment is, is shown to be a raging queen. The counsellors talk about God and forgiveness and compassion, while freaking out about pictures of an underwear model and calmly closing the door on kids who have hung themselves.

But it's funny. Really really funny. And part of the reason for that is because Butters is an absolutely genius character. I could write reams and reams about how brilliant he is, how he has become as integralo to the success of the show as any of the principle characters. His relationship with Cartman is one of those golden TV couplings which pays dividends year after year. He is the sweetest, most trusting and innocent child in South Park. That naivety allows the writers to use Butters as a way to cut through the bullshit of the adults around him. Just look at this little quote which rounds out the Cartman Sucks episode

Butters: My name is Butters, I'm 8 years old, I'm blood type O and I'm bi-curious! And even that's okay, because if I'm bi-curious and I'm somehow made from God, then I figure God might be a little bi-curious himself!

The thing is, South Park does this consistently, episode after episode, year after year and makes it seem effortless. There isn't a braver or funnier show on either side of the Atlantic.

Great Moments...

2009-11-01T12:38:00.000-08:00

The challenge of any adaptation of Romeo and Juliet is to make the central relationship passionate, crazed and hormonal enough to justify the events which come after. I have never seen a stage couple able to do this, and a part of me thinks it is asking too much of a theatrical performance (I am desperate to be proved wrong here). But Baz Luhrman's film gets it right. After a manic, and slightly exhausting opening 15 minutes, the film suddenly halts as the lovers eyes meet through a fish tank. Both Leonardo DiCaprio and Claire Danes are fantastic in these first moments, their body language telling you everything you need to know. By the end of the scene, and their first kiss, you are completely sold on their dizzying, OTT attraction.

Luhrman's film has its faults, but it absolutely nails the most important elements. It makes Romeo and Juliet feel vital and real, giving them an earthy and graceful physicality that underpins everything that comes after. Luhrman has proven himself to be a fantastic creator of these types of moments - manic theatrical openings which suddenly give way to moments of intense, ardent romanticism (think of the moment when Ewen first belts out "My gift is my song..." in Moulin Rouge). After the misfire of Australia, I hope he finds his way back to something memorable.

The Constant Gardener

2009-11-01T12:13:00.000-08:00

Hollywood doesn't do marriage well. Most great movie romances are about the race to the aisle, and not what comes after. When we do get a glimpse of a married couple, the most memorable tend to be the ones who are disintegrating.

A couple of weeks ago I saw Julie and Julia and was charmed by its depiction of the marriage between Julia and Paul Child. Nora Ephron, Meryl Streep and Stanley Tucci created a charming, loving couple without ever seeming twee or sentimental. Equally memorable are the couple in what I am convinced is one of the great films of this decade - The Constant Gardener.

I saw The Constant Gardener on a wet Wednesday afternoon in a tiny cinema in Leicester Square. I think there were about half a dozen of us in the room. I probably would have passed on it but I heard that Rachel Weisz was in the running for an Oscar for her work and I was curious. I never thought of her as that good an actress. I remember leaving the film devastated. In a way, I am glad that I saw it on my own. I didn't want to talk about it after. My emotional experience of the film was so surprising and gut wrenching that I wanted some time to myself to think about it. That doesn't often happen - one of the reasons I don't like going to the cinema alone is because I love to talk about it after. But The Constant Gardener was a rare case where I felt too emotionally raw and wanted to be alone.

I re-watched it this weekend and I am more convinced then ever that this is one of the finest films of the new century - and in Tess and Justin it creates one of the most heart breaking, honest and powerful depictions of marriage that a Hollywood film has ever given us.

There is some wondrous alchemy that goes on between writing, direction, editing and performance to bring this relationship to the screen. The film, which mixes multiple genres with graceful ease, really hinges on Justin's journey to understand the scope of his wife's commitment, desire and love. The film's final moments, of Justin conjuring an image of Tess as he awaits his own death, hit so hard and so deep because the film has accomplished the wondrous task of creating a nuanced, intelligent and erotic interplay between the couple. Both Tess and Justin are flawed people who attain a a kind of mythic force as the film goes on.

I have always loved Ralph Fiennes. He has done superb work in The English Patient, Schindler's List and The End of the Affair. His performance as Justin is some of his most subtle, emotionally raw work. He has always been a wonderfully reactive actor, but he has never been as warm and open as he allows himself to be in this film. And Weisz is simply astonishing - Tess could be played as a superficial martyr, but Weisz keeps finding the humanity in the role. She seems more fully alive in this role then I have ever seen her and she makes sense of Tess' seemingly suicidal dedication to her work. I could not have imagined Fiennes and Weisz working as a screen couple but they have a rare, electric chemistry and it is thrilling to watch them each elevate the other's performance.

Central to the success of these performances is the structure of the film, which moves in and out of different time lines, beautifully putting us in the headspace of Justin as he thinks back over moments he shared with Tess. This isn't simply a stylistic device to dress up a formulaic thriller, but a technical choice which raises the emotional pitch of the story. We discover Tess with Justin - our own prejudices about her choices are overturned as his own are. There wasn't a moment when I wasn't emotionally engaged. The tragedy of the film is not just the death of Tess and Justin, but that Justin only realises the true depth of his love for Tess at the moment of his own murder.

The film would be memorable if this was its sole accomplishment. But The Constant Gardener is so much more. It is a great thriller, a film full of righteous anger and nakedly political in a way which is all too rare nowadays. It forces us to look at the ways in which Developed economies continue to exploit Africa and at the same time gives a sense of the tribal divisions and horrors which Africans wreak on each other. It offers no easy solutions and questions the ability of any single person to make much of a difference. And yet I believe its ultimate message is that it is cowardly to use those realities as a basis for refusing to do anything, or for engaging in the type of cynical realpolitik that the Governments and corporations are seen to do throughout the film.

Fernando Merielles, who made the electric City of God, goes deeper emotionally with this film, creating a story which rewards repeated viewing as the richness of the acting and the brilliance of its structure begins to sink in. He gives you a sense of the teeming chaos of life in Kenya, and the realities under which millions of people live but that we simply cannot conceive of. If I do have a criticism of the film it is that for a film about the affects of colonialism (both culturally and economically), it doesn't do enough to give voice to Africans themselves.

Ultimately, as entertaining as the political intrigue and conspiracy theory stuff is, for me it comes down to the final moments with Justin speaking to his wife's spirit as he awaits his own death. Its a moment which is profoundly cinematic - capturing a wealth of complicated emotions in just a few moments of screentime. It was a moment which I couldn't get out of my head for days. Four years since the film's release has not dulled its power.

Vigilant

2009-10-31T11:32:00.001-07:00

I went to the hate crimes vigil at Trafalgar Square last night. It was a wonderful evening - the night was mild, the crowd swelled to a couple of thousand and the atmosphere was friendly, open and generous. I wasn't sure what to expect - it was really my first event of this type, despite being involved in community work for over three years. The mood wasn't angry, it didn't feel like a community under threat. It felt like a community taking a stand and I was proud of that.

I often hear older gay people ask about my generation and younger 'where is the passion?'. Well it's difficult to get passionate without a focus. Anger is an emotion which needs a point, otherwise it becomes a shrill and frustrating emotion. You need something to harness the short burst of energy it gives before it snuffs out. It can be difficult for young gay people to find that channel when many of the major national, legislative fights have already been fought. At one point last night, one of the speakers talked about young gay people only caring about bars and clubs and I rolled my eyes so far that they almost disappeared round my skull. It is the oldest, most frustrating and silliest complaint that every older generation levels against the younger - that it is more frivolous, more flippant and more superficial and everything would have been so much better if they were back in charge.

The thing is, where does a young gay person, who is just coming out, who sees bars and clubs as their opportunity to meet other men and women like them, go to find out about their history? The generation of the 70s and 80s has failed to preserve their heritage. It is a trifle unfair to blame younger people for not knowing their history when it is not taught in school (gay rights are barely mentioned as a civil rights issue, especially in comparison to ethnic minorities and women's struggles). There is an amazing story about the development of the gay rights movement, its struggles for legalisation, acceptance and then the dark years of the AIDS crisis. But we don't have a gay museum or cultural centre where this can be taught. A Gay History project is only just getting going and they have a monstrous task playing catch-up and preserving stories before generations die out. A generation was already almost lost due to that shitty little virus.

I am no absolving my generation of guilt. We can be frivolous, silly and flippant and particularly cruel to older members of our community. We do need direction and we are not necessarily going to respond to people acting like we are lost causes to begin with.

The most sobering thing about the attacks which have taken place over the last few weeks is the role of teenagers in each of them. I believe that each successive generation is more accepting then the last. But it is all to easy to forget that most kids grow up in households where there is at least casual levels of homophobia and often that rises to a toxic stew of prejudice and hatred. This doesn't take into account the other elements of their lives which can lead to social dysfunction. It is a horrid mix and the best indication that the focus has to be put into schools. Unfortunately a generation of work was silenced by Section 28 and now we are playing catch-up.

I just finished re-reading Randy Shilts' wonderful biography of Harvey Milk. Milk often spoke of the importance of coming out - the best way to break down the barriers to acceptance and understanding is for a straight person to realise that a friend or loved one is gay. It is the entirely sensible belief behind the Same Sex Holding Hands day which took place today. I think a lot of straight people go through life believing that gay people are a rarity. But we are not. There are millions of us, from all walks of life. Only by overcoming our own fears and struggles can we force others to do the same.

I am ambivalent about hate crimes laws. I understand the reason for their existence, but I still there is something to be said for the law being blind to our differences. But in light of the protections offered to other minorities I think it only right that gay people are included. However, they punish an event that has already taken place, and the existence of those laws are unlikely to curb a violent attack motivated by a dizzying array of personality maladjustments. The work has to go in at the other end, to shaping hearts and minds and not changing them.
Rant Over

Parnassus

2009-10-27T08:34:00.001-07:00

Terry Gilliam is one of those artists who people generally haven’t heard of, but who has had a profound impact on pop culture. From his work with Monty Python, through to the hugely influential Brazil, Time Bandits, The Fisher King and 12 Monkeys, he has been a real inspiration for a whole raft of other visual artists.

But something seemed to go wrong with Gilliam in the last 10 to 15 years. His struggles to set projects up, their well-publicised problems and the failure of films such as The Brother’s Grimm and Tideland seemed to sap his creative juices. I was shocked at how ugly, shoddy and uninvolving The Brothers Grimm turned out to be – a film which I was sure should have been a home run for him.

On paper, The Imginarium of Dr Parnassus should be similarly ripe for Gilliam’s particular talents. An immortal man, who posses a mirror which leads people into their imaginations, makes a deal with the Devil to save his daughter from Hell. Heath Ledger plays the handsome, charming stranger who offers to help Parnassus, but who is hiding himself from his own past. The MacGuffin is a magic mirror where people enter visual representations of their imaginations and are given a choice between Parnassus and The Devil.

As a story, Imaginarium is simply terrible. Individual scenes work fine, but there is absolutely no sense of a wider narrative arc, which becomes increasingly apparent as the story lurches towards its chaotic, shambolic conclusion. The set-up seems simple – Parnassus and the Devil in a race to capture five souls, with the soul of Parnassus’ daughter as the ultimate prize. But Gilliam never gets a firm grip on the rules of what the mirror is, how it is used and what happens to those who enter. The rules which are set-up are flouted as the script requires and the character of the Devil (nicely played by Tom Waits) merely exists to extend the tired storyline past the point where this audience member cared.

I am a big believer in rules for fantasy films. If you are going to break with ‘reality’ on film (even if that reality itself is a construction) then I think you owe it to your audience to play fair with. This becomes particularly important in Imaginarium where so much of the plot hinges on those very rules as the basis of a bet between two characters. The script doesn’t seem to play fair and never establishes what precisely happens in the mirror. Establishing some mystery is vital to suspending disbelief (I don’t want to see the mechanics of how it actually works) but neither do I want a situation whereby the powers of the mirror are changed to suit the short-term goals of the plot. That is simply lazy writing.

As for the visuals… there is a clear disconnect here between the real world and the imaginary world of the mirror. The real world stuff, surprisingly, is the one that is the most consistently impressive. Gilliam seems inspired by the tactile nature of the London setting, of the grimy Victoriana of the sets and costumes and the contrasts between the DIY theatricality of Parnassus’ show and the modern, gleaming London that surrounds it. The problems start in the imaginary world of the mirror. A reviewer whose name I wish I could remember, said that the mirror scenes looked like screen savers from Windows and I can’t do better then that description. They are flat, cartoonish and, well… unimaginative.

Heath Ledger is the marquee reason for seeing Parnassus but I don’t believe it is a fitting final role for the actor. It’s clear that his character, Tony, is deceitful to come degree and that he has a massive secret. What never becomes clear is who exactly Tony is and what his culpability is in the situation he finds himself. Gilliam himself feels unsure and as the film careens towards its climax, this ambivalence destroys the story as it descends into a series of manic, shouty scenes, backed by unconvincing CGI. The conceit of three actors playing three different faces of Tony in the mirror works well, but it robs Heath of the ability to build a complete performance. I would be fascinated to see if the strength of his work could have overcome the flashy annoyances surrounding the finale.

I also think the film’s attempt to deal with Ledger’s death through the invocation of Princess Di and James Dean were a bit nauseating (as I have found much of Gilliam’s shilling for the movie). There is something a little creepy and fetishistic about the dialogue given to Johnny Depp where he talks about the death of celebrities making them forever young. The death of those people is first and foremost a personal tragedy to their families and I think it cold comfort to Ledger’s friends, family and fans to think that his face will adorn the walls of student’s bedsits for the next fifty years.

The best reason to see the film is to see the lovely work of Lily Cole (as Parnassus’ daughter) and Andrew Garfield (as her love-struck would-be suitor). Both navigate a believable emotional range and give the film whatever real spark of life it has. I know Garfield from his astonishing performance in the Channel 4 show Boy A, but Cole is a novice actress but makes a great debut.

A Strange Moment

2009-10-23T12:56:00.000-07:00

It has been a strange couple of weeks in Gay World.

In America, you have had the President of the United States address a dinner of the largest gay rights group in the country on the eve of a march in support of Marriage Equality in Washington DC which drew about 100,000 people. The speech, wherein he reaffirmed his commitment to all of the main legislative priorities of gay organisations, was given during a period when Obama has been criticised heavily for making little or no head way on some of the promises he made during the election. Hate crimes laws finally passed both House and Senate this week which is fantastic, but the main hurdles (such as ending the federal marriage equality ban and allowing gays to openly serve in the military) are still to come.

At the same time, gays and their supporters are in vicious fights in both Maine and Washington state to ensure gay couples are given full partnership benefits. The Maine fight is particularly important because it is a case of a largely religious drive to deny full civil marriage rights which were given to gays by the elected state legislature. A big complaint about the California decision last year was that it was somehow 'forced' on the state by judges in the Supreme Court. This isn't the case here. It exposes the bigotry of those who seek to keep gay people as second class citizens for liars and religious nuts that they are. And yet Obama has said that he does not support full marriage equality and believes in the bullshit compromise of civil partnerships, a stance which has been repeatedly used against marriage equality forces in California and Maine. Gay people's frustrations with him are well founded but the vehemence of their reaction seems out of proportion.

Then on this side of the Atlantic, we have had the publication of that hateful Jan Moir article on Stephen Gately's death in the Daily Dickhead, followed by the release of a video showing a 60 year old gay man being kicked to death in Trafalgar Sq. The murderers are only being charged with second degree manslaughter. Yet the Moir article touched a spectacular nerve and led to 25,000 complaints to the Press Complaints Commission.

I am trying to think about what all these events mean. On the one hand, you have gay issues being addressed in public in a way which I think inevitably helps break down social homophobia. It is easy for people to make the connection between Moir's poisonous dog whistles about gay relationships and the tragedy of Ian Baynham's death. Stephen Gately's husband being given a central space at his funeral and the clear support given to him by Gately's friends and family probably did more to shift Irish people's attitudes then something like Brokeback Mountain did. The best way to change people's attitude's to homosexuality is for people to actually know somebody gay. People felt they knew Gately - as a member of a successful Irish boyband, its almost like Irish people had a share in his success. His death was tragic, but the backlash against those looking to dance on his grave has been hugely gratifying.

Something has also become really clear to me. Civil partnerships should go. Whatever the Labour calculation was when they were brought in a few years ago it is no longer acceptable to have an equal-but-separate law for gay relationships (yes I know straights can also get civil partnerships, but they have the option. Gay people don't). Our lives, our loves are just as fulfilling and worthy of respect in the eyes of the state as heterosexuals and the time really has come for the Government to recognise this.

With a Conservative government likely coming to power in the next 6 - 8 months, that next step is unlikely. But it is the right thing to do.

On a personal level, I feel that something imperceptible has shifted within my own family. I was touched by those who wanted to speak to me about Gately's death. They seemed to want to reassure me through speaking about Gately that they hoped I could both find a partner and that whoever he is, he would be welcome into the family fold.

For me, that was progress

Pop Culture Nag

2009-10-23T12:02:00.000-07:00

Have you ever felt nagged?

I mean we all get nagged by our friends, family and partners. Most of it is well meaning, and most of the time we all deal with it in good natured ways.

But last week I had the weird sensation of being nagged by a big, glossy Hollywood film. I went to see Julie and Julia at the cinema this week and had the slightly uncomfortable experience of being given a lecture on not doing enough with my life and simultaneously having my complete wish fulfilment fantasy played on screen.

It wasn't the Julia Child part of the movie that spoke to me. It was the far more conventional and ever so slightly boring section with Amy Adams as Julie, the low-achieving wannabe writer stuck in a largely unfulfilling office job who finally knuckles down and writes a bestseller. With a really hot husband.

Its silly I know, but I felt like this section of the movie was like a little a voice whispering softly into my ear "You see, you could do this too! You can write! You just need a GIMMICK!!!!".

I know in the rational part of my brain that Julie Powell's story had been fully Hollywood-ised. I mean, I could never be as adorable as Amy Adams - my emotional meltdowns aren't met with fun music montages and charming blog posts. They are met with drinking too much at weekends and weeping on friend's shoulders.

And yet... in the immortal words of Gypsy, if I could get a gimmick, I could be a star...

Knuckling down seems to be the theme which connects the stories of Powell and Child. Both of them were talented women (one more so than the other it must be said) who found themselves at a loose end and determined to try and make something of their lives. Though the film reaches for greater connection between the two, I actually think that is enough to justify the story structure. I liked that Nora Ephron had crafted a peon to hard work and sticktoitiveness that emphasised the work part of it.

The Julia Child section is everything you could want from the film. It is lively, funny, romantic and sexy. Only Meryl Streep could get away with a performance as theatrical as this one is and make it work on an emotional level. She and Stanley Tucci do a marvellous little duet together as a loving husand and wife. This is the second film I have seen recently that celebrates its central couple as a loving, nurturing partnership (after Away We Go) and i is wonderful to see. In most romantic comedies, you its difficult to believe why such dysfunctional people would ever agree to spend their lives together (Couples Retreat looks like a terrible version of this).

Amy Adams does her best with the Julie Powell section but it just doesn't come close to the joi de vivre of the Child sections.

This is definitely Ephron's best film since Sleepless in Seattle. It's sweet,m funny and romantic and only intermittently annoying. And it gave me a cheap wish fulfillment fantasy of a low-level bureaucrat making good.

What more could you ask for on a Wednesday night?

Fame Fail

2009-09-28T14:42:00.000-07:00

I went to see Fame. Yes mock me all you want.

It sucked. I wish I had something more to say, but apart from the dancing (which is hugely impressive, especially a Fosse-like number done to Sam Sparro's Black and Gold) it was terrible.

I mean, how can you actually have a Fame movie and not actually have a big, electric film-halting set-piece to the main tune (the remake weirdly echoes many of the other scenes from the first film so it wasn't an attempt at originality)?

I think it also highlights just how good the original Fame movie was. It was gritty, raw and adult in ways that this film can't even begin to contemplate. It gave a sense of the real sacrifices of these kids. Yes it was soapy and melodramatic, but Alan Parker was a true film musical genius (Fame, The Commitments and Evita are tremendous pieces of entertainment) and he found a style that reinvigorated the hackneyed back-stage cliches of the script.

I love musicals. I can forgive a lot for watching the simply joy of people singing and dancing on screen. But Fame never justifies itself as a remake or a re-imagining of a film. The great thing about Fame is that the concept itself is clean and simple - follow a group of kids through their years at a performing arts highschool. There are all sorts of ways that you can have fun and develop it. Fame manages to fuck it up consistently.

What a shame

I'm starting to feel old...

2009-09-23T11:34:00.000-07:00

I was going to write a post on the death of one of the greatest pop bands of the last 10 years.

But sometimes you just have to bow to somebody who did it better. Glenn from StalepopcornAU gets at why this is something of the end of an era for people who loved classy pop. Like Glenn, Sugababes were one of the first pop bands that I unabashedly and publicly loved. Though after 10 years they no longer seemed quite as fresh as they once did, at their best, they were the best.

And though it may be jumping the gun, PopJustice's nicely worded tirade about the pictures of the WannabeSugababe's video is also worth reading.

Away We Go

2009-09-20T13:07:00.000-07:00

I feel a little sorry for Sam Mendes. I mean, yes, he is a revered theatre director. He won an Oscar with his first film. And he is married to The Divine Kate Winslet (the bastard!).

But like his sadly missed compatriot Anthony Minghella, he seems to have slipped into the realm of Critical Derision. After praising him so lavishly for American Beauty, it now appears to be the fashion to throw feces at whatever he does. Revolutionary Road got some of pretty nasty, dismissive reviews, and you could feel some critics wanting to use the film to tear Mendes down rather then give an honest reaction (I thought the film was very very good but certainly had its faults).

Away We Go was released in the States at the beginning of the Summer and did nice business but was largely dismissed by reviewers. It won't change the world, but I thought this film had a great deal of charm, and showed Mendes working in a freer, more emotionally relaxed style that surprised and delighted me.

The film is quite novelistic in a way (which isn't surprising as it is written by novelists Vendela Vida and Dave Eggers) - rootless parents-to-be Maya Rudolph and John Krasinski go on a road trip and encounter a series of horrific or heartbreaking family types. As a piece of writing, nothing about this film will really surprise you, and some of the characters are grostesques that don't really work.

But what does undoubtedly work is the central couple. Burt and Verona are a happy couple. They don't have any hidden pain. They are open, honest and loving to one another. This is hugely refreshing - their scenes together are nicely understated and realistic, while their moments of clarity are at once simple and rendered with admirable emotional truth. This is where the skill of Vida and Eggers comes through clearest. Besides exploring the fear of starting a family, Away We Go is also a film about people who they have got to a certain age only to end up slightly lost. At one point, Verona asks Burt "Are we fuck ups?" and that line, and the world of emotion it expresses rang completely true to me.

Krasinski and Rudolph are ultimately the reason to see this. Krasinski is sweet and charming and his chemistry with Rudolph is completely believable. They share a moment in a train bunk bed which reminds me of a remarkable scene from Eternal Sunshine where each of the women discuss their fears about how they look. However, it is Rudolph who ultimately is the soul of the piece. She is virtually unknown over here but gives the piece its gravity and depth. Mendes once again proves that he is one of the best directors that an actor could wish for.

What is more surprising is how loose and enjoyable the film was. After the marital Armageddon of Revolutionary Road, Away We Go seems to vibrate with a desire for Mendes to show a partnership of emotional and intellectual equals. Verona and Burt aren't asked to overcome enormous and melodramatic personal demons. They merely recognise in each other the person they want to be with. Their modern, egalitarian take on relationships feels almost entirely different to anything else I have seen on screen for so long and lends Away We Go its power.

Gleeful

2009-09-18T08:19:00.000-07:00

Sometimes there seems to be so many exciting TV shows coming out of the states that I am not sure quite where to start. I mean, I haven’t watched Mad Men, The Wire, or most of The Sopranos. I am only one season through 30 Rock and have yet to watch a single episode of Arrested Development. I am a confessed Joss Whedon fanatic and I still haven’t watched a blinkin’ episode of Dollhouse!!

Yet I can’t see that happening with the new show Glee, a taste of which I got over the summer with the first episode. Seriously, it’s almost like somebody sat down and designed the show to appeal to me. It’s set in a highschool. It can be wickedly cruel and satirical about the students, teachers and their relationships. It has singing and crazy dance routines that manage to convey the sheer joy of performing even if the material itself is a piss-take!!

And yet it also understands that as preposterous as it can appear, things such as a school show choir matter when you’re that age. Everything matters when you’re that age.

The drama group I was with for most of my childhood is having a 50th anniversary celebration back home in Cork this weekend. I can’t tell you the amount of hours that myself and my friends spent in classes, rehearsing and performing during my childhood and teenage years. The hours spent dissecting our work, criticising those who got the better roles and dreaming of blinded by a solo spotlight. Getting that amazing, tingly feeling when you realised that a performance wasn’t just going well, but was connecting with those on the other side. The sheer euphoria of doing something you loved and doing it well.

I miss that. The further away I have got from it, the more I realise how much fun it was and how much it changed me for the better. I knew it was geeky. I often died when somebody who didn’t get it mocked me for it in school. But in the end, I didn’t give a shit. Once I was on stage, I was untouchable.

That’s why I am looking forward to Glee. From what I have seen of it so far, the show manages to balance what could be a corrosively nasty wit with a genuine sense of bliss and a touching investment in the delirium of these kids. I hope they keep that balance going (Bring it On is an excellent example of a film which consistently rips the piss out of its characters but manages to do so in a completely loving way).

I mean, any show that teases with something as amazing as this has to be worth my time…

Let the Right One In - The Novel

2009-09-14T13:44:00.000-07:00

I will be forever grateful to my friend Therese for lots of things. Firstly, just for being such a good friend to me. Secondly, for actually challenging me about my rather too comfortable-and-pleased-with-myself-views about gender (even if we did ultimately disagree sometimes). And lastly (and more recently) for making me read the original novel on which Let the Right One In was based on.

You may remember that when I saw Let the Right One in a couple of months ago, I said how disappointed I was in the whole thing. That it not only failed to live up to the considerable but it seemed to be a slight badly string together collection of scenes, with a wildly and annoyingly varied tone. I thought the film would have benefited from less concentration on Oskar and more on the twisted relationship between Eli and her minder.

Well, Therese was right. The book certainly gives you more of that relationship, and in the process became on of the most disturbing and creepiest novels I have ever read.

The book works on a lot of levels. It does flesh out Oskar's story and make him a better realised character. But I still don't quite buy him, or the intensity of his relationship with Eli. His strand is still the one element of the story that I find the least interesting.

What you get in the novel, and what was hinted at only broadly in the film, is the effect that Eli's presence has on a depressed, isolated community. Eli's actions, and those of her helpers, act as a contagion on estate, spreading outwards and infecting the lives of dozens of people. This is the part of the novel that both surprised me and touched me. Lindvquist has genuine empathy for these characters and creates a believable rag-tag group of lost souls already crushed by the daily realities of their life. Their attempts to reach out to one another to find warmth and companionship are moving, and provide the real emotional depth to much of the novel.

What I wanted from the film was more of Eli's keeper. Hakan is a horrifying creation - repulsive, destructive sad and pathetic. That Lindqvist manages to take this horror of a human and give him dimension and plausibility without ever trying to excuse the horror of his actions is a brilliant high wire act and I respect and admire his commitment. The vast majority of Hakan's story is jettisoned in the movie and it provides and interesting lesson in adaptation.

For all the critic's crowing over the skill with which the film was made, I actually think it is a poor adaptation. The filmmakers (I include Lindqvist as screenwriter, as well as director Alfredson) chose the easiest storyline to tell. Oskar's story is essentially linear - he matures in a twisted kind of way, becomes a man by finding a woman to protect and to care for. Eli may be older, may be stronger. But she still needs to rely on a man to help her out. Oskar fulfills was is essentially a traditional male role model, however kinky and weird.

The Grand Guignol moments that I found funny in the film (and not in a good way) are in the book, but they have a force and a horror that the director fails utterly to capture.

The stories surrounding this are infinitely more interesting. Hakan's alone develops into a truly grisly and horrific end that had my skin crawling. Virginia and Lacke's story has some of the most poignant and horrific material but is treated with cursory attention. This is frustrating, but allowed me to discover the richness of Lindqvist's story for myself. I loved this book.

There were howls of outrage when Hollywood announced that it was going to remake Let the Right One In. I am slow to join in the chorus in the hopes that instead of remaking the film, they will go back to the source novel and re-focus it on some of the material I consider superior. Though that may be giving them all far too much credit.
　

Movies Catch-up

2009-09-11T11:19:00.000-07:00

District 9

Not quite the masterpiece that many in the States have claimed, but this is a bracingly intelligent, exciting and emotional story that is told with real skill and intensity. Sharlto Coptly is incredible in the lead role - a complete unknown, he is in virtually every scene and manages to portray a weak, vacuously cruel man who finds something resembling a soul as his body crumbles with astonishing skill. The CGI work is impeccable and there is real thought gone in to this story. I think this is the most exciting first film I have seen in a long time and Neil Blomkamp is surely going to have as long and brilliant a career as the mercurial producer Peter Jackson (I really REALLY want to see The Lovely Bones now).

Inglorious Basterds

Thank Christ Taratino is back. This is his first film since Jackie Brown that I can wholeheartedly endorse. I love the style of Kill Bill 1 - it's hugely exhilarating, but essentially empty. Vol 2 is turgid, ruined by Taratino's fascination with Michael Madsen and David Carridine, both of whom give painful performances and a sense that Tarantino's dialogue was parodying itself. Death Proof is the same - great action but the script sounds like a bland imitation. Basterds announces itself with a humdinger of a first scene that balances tension, comedy and menace almost perfectly. It has four superb performances (and in Diane Kruger, a genuine revelation as I thought she was terrible in Troy). The film is basically a series of long dialogue scenes, but Tarantino seems to take joy in his language and that joy, rather than feeling like the dead end of his own obsessions, felt inclusive. The actors run with these scenes, delighting in the twists and turns, while Tarantino direct stylishly but always with an eye to serving the story and characters. It doesn't have the depth of feeling that Jackie Brown had, but it certainly feels that Tarantino may have found a way out of his rut.

Time Traveller's Wife
I am lucky in a way. My Straight Wife Rachel McAdams has yet to make a truly awful film so, while I can always watch her in quiet rapture, the films themselves are generally good (State of Play) and frequently brilliant (Mean Girls, Family Stone). The Time Traveller's Wife is probably the dodgiest of her outings so far, though that is not the fault of her or Eric Bana who do trojan work in helping the audience to invest in this improbable situation. People I know who are fans of the book seem to be slightly let down, and I have to admit that this is one of those films with such an irrisistable premise that this bland, inoffensive weepy is more of a disappointment then it might otherwise be. But McAdams and Bana was sweet, charismatic and work hard at giving subtlety and nuance to the whole thing.

I'm Back!

2009-09-11T04:07:00.001-07:00

Need to get the brain cells working again... Posting will resume in the next day or so...

Let The Right One In

2009-04-28T07:43:00.000-07:00

I was so very excited about seeing this film. I had read rave after rave from American critics at the end of last year. English critics similarly tripped over themselves to praise this Swedish vampire-cum-coming-of-age film. I will watch anything with vampires, and when I read genuine enthusiasm from jaded film writers, it can only make me more excited.

This is a beautiful, measured, thoughtful film, made with care and precision. And yet I was rarely engaged by anything that was happening on screen. In fact, I found the whole movie a frustrating experience. I could see precisely the things about the film that made some viewers so excited without ever being truly moved by the story or characters.

Let the Right One In is about a young, slightly disturbed and lonely boy (Oskar) who befriends a strange girl (Eli) who moves into the flat next to his. It turns out this girl is a vampire, who is kept fed by an elderly ‘minder’ who murders locals and drains them of blood for her. The story maps out their relationship when the vampire’s minder is killed.

It’s a beautifully economical plot which gives the writer and director a lot to play with. The cinematography in a blindingly white working class Swedish housing estate is gorgeous and gives the film a novel backdrop against which its vampire tale can unfold. Many of the fantastical elements of the film are handled in an off-hand, casual manner which initially increases the horror and suspense.. The first half of the film is genuinely chilling at times.

But for me, the film just never develops beyond its interesting premise. Part of this is the focus on Oskar, a character whose victimisation seemed to be the sum total of his actual personality. This may have had something to do with the young actor who played him, who I thought was bland and completely unable to handle any of the more difficult dramatic elements. I felt completely distanced from him throughout.

The film also has some awkward tone switches which ruined the mood of the film at several key moments. Two stand out in particular – an attack by crazed CGI cats and the final attack on the bullies from Eli. These sequences destroy the delicate, chilling timbre of the film is an attempt at some Grand Guignol horror. Unfortunately they are so poorly executed that they instead descend into campy horror and the film never really recovers from that.

The one unqualified success was the depiction of Eli, both in performance and writing. She is an intriguingly enigmatic mixture of pathetic, lonely girl and disturbing monster and I love how both the actress and the filmmakers root her in absolute reality. Lina Leadersson plays these contradictions beautifully, and really is on another level entirely from the rest of the cast.

Her character also seems to fire the imagination of the writer in a way that nobody else does. Perhaps the most frustrating thing about this film is that I don’t think the writer developed the most interesting threads from his plot. For me, Oskar’s story is the most boring and conventional – it is Eli, her relationship with her ‘minder’ and his history which fascinated most. That ultimately isn’t what this film is about and it’s a real shame.

I think this is also a case of having expectations which were just too high. If I had discovered this film at a festival as many critics did, or through word of mouth on DVD or late night channel surfing, then it is likely that it would have had a much higher impact. But by the time it reached these shores, Let the Right One In was proclaimed one of the great vampire tales, and one of the year’s best films. That’s a daunting prospect for any film to live up to and it simply wilted in the glare of that scrutiny.

Blame the Bankers?

2009-03-30T06:35:00.000-07:00

The G20 circus is coming to London this week. Because I work in London Bridge, I should have a pretty good view of the beginning of one of the marches on Wednesday. Some of the banks and businesses around here seem to have gotten a bit hysterical about what may or may not happen.

Wednesday has been called Financial Fools Day and four marches will depart from different train stations to rendezvous at Bank. London Bridge gets the Money Crimes march which will be led by a silver Horseman of the Apocalypse. Brilliantly, you can also apparently join the horse in eating the bankers in some kind of metaphorical zombie gorefest.

In order to prevent the metaphorical from becoming real, bankers have hilariously been told to wear chinos on the day to fool the crowd into thinking they are just regular joes. I think they could have been a bit more imaginative – why not hold a prize for the best disguise in your office? You could have your staff dress as deliverymen, contractors or trades people or even tourists. Just wear unflattering shorts and carry a big camera and et voila, you can sneak past all those dirty fucking hippies.

Seriously though, those in power should probably welcome these protests. They help people feel like they have ‘done something’ about their anger and helps to dissipate it. Lots of people like to claim that showing up at the Iraq war march was a brave act of rebellion, but the hundreds of thousands of people who did march on the day in 2003 rarely followed it up with any concrete action. They got to have their Big Day Out and then pretty much went back to their lives.

I also feel that the concentration on the actions of the banks is rather misplacing the anger that people should be feeling. A banker’s job is to make money for themselves and their shareholders. The fact that they were coming up with increasingly bizarre and byzantine methods to achieve this should not be shocking to anybody. Anybody who could survive in that testosterone fuelled nightmare is pretty much inured to ethical issues regarding whether or not they should be doing what they were doing. That they made so much money for so long was all the justification that they needed.

Which is why we are supposed to have watchdogs and regulators. That’s why I think, as disgusted as I am with the actions of muchof the banking sector, the anger I feel is really towards the politicians and especially to the New Labour government. This appears to be the logical extension of a Labour government which sought to soften but essentially leave unchanged the rampant capitalism of Thatcher’s Britain. It is the government that was asleep at the wheel, allowing these banks and financial institutions a free hand to metasize into bloated, blubbery institutions. It was the government and specifically New Labour who, afraid of being tarnished with a lefty brush, took a hands off approach to regulation. And it was the government who were happy to allow wage stagnation and income inequality to grow to sickening levels because of a belief in the essential goodness of the free market.

I am no socialist – I believe that capitalism is an important drive for personal liberty. But the mistake seems to have been an assumption that the free market is a benign institution instead of one which is morally neutral. It requires that governments take an active role in curbing its worst excesses and channelling its benefits so as broad a number of people as possibly can derive some benefit.

Gordon Brown increasingly seems like a man who lucked out while Chancellor – that he was able to parlay a couple of years of decent growth into a widely held belief that he was some kind of economics genius. Instead, he appears to have sacrificed long term stability and social cohesion for the thrill of short term gains and lionisation from the business and financial sectors, groups who were once openly hostile to Labour.

That’s why I can’t get too excited about the whole Blame the Bankers brigade. I think they are going after the wrong target and it lets the very mistakes and sins of the politicians go relatively unremarked.

1 in 6 Therapists are stupid or bigoted

2009-03-27T06:25:00.000-07:00

Normally I skip the Metro in the mornings. The paper is about as bland and boring as you can get – like the evening free sheets, it is just about the laziest way of digesting news imaginable.

But the headline on the paper yesterday morning was enough not only to shock me, but to put me in a bad mood for the rest of the day. According to research published in a medical journal this week, 16% of all counsellors have attempted to cure their patients of homosexuality.

That statistic is so incomprehensible that I need to quote it again just to let it sink in…

16% of counsellors actually admitted to trying to cure their patients of homosexuality.

That means that 1 out of every six counsellors believe that homosexuality is something that can be changed with enough therapy. I am sure they were only thinkinfg of their clients best interests and not the thousands of pounds they could gouge out of these helpless people by stretching out that cure over an insane time period.

And just how exactly do they intend to ‘cure’ homosexuality. The only known cures come from the fringe end of the Christian fundamentalist right who seem to advocate strict gender roles and lots and lots of praying. So women get to wear make-up and skirts (though not too much because you don’t want to be a slut) and men get to be more manly. Add some prayers and POOF! you’re no longer one a poof. It reminds me of the underwear gnomes from South Park and their plan for world domination.

According to the study, many of these therapists have used aversion therapy to try and rid people of their evil and perverse urges. Aversion therapy is a nice, clinical term for zapping your private parts with electric shocks while showing you pictures of sexy men. The hope is that you will eventually associate pain with sexy men. This was all the rage about fifty years ago but since the medical and psychiatric professions are supposed to have moved on a little from the time that they gave electric shock therapy to women who didn’t want to be slaves to the cooker, it is a little surprising to see it still being used.

What these therapists are actually doing is ensuring that years down the line, these men and women who are led to believe that their homosexuality can be cured will be forced into relationships which will make them deeply unhappy and unfulfilled. Their unhappiness and depression will radiate outwards, encompassing their partners, families and friends. It could lead to domestic violence, higher rates of STIs, self harm and suicide. This is something that I can speak with some confidence on since I hear it all the time from people ringing the switchboard. Their stories, as individually tragic as they are, all carry the same basic components of denial, repression and misery.

The reasons that therapists have offered to help ‘convert’ LGB people are religion, family and social pressures and the person’s unhappiness. There seems to be little understanding that what makes the person unhappy isn’t their orientation but precisely the religious, family and social prejudices which enforces a blinkered and prejudiced view. Instead of helping a person to build their confidence and self worth with a view to being able to successfully deal with this prejudice, they push spurious and thoroughly discredited treatments. The therapists who do this because of their own religious or moral beliefs about the ‘perversity’ of homosexuality should be especially ashamed.

What worries me most is that if 17% of therapists will actually admit this, then it probably happens on a much wider scale then that. There will be those who will not wish to admit to it because of a sense that it is not ‘politically correct’. I think those who have admitted to peddling what amounts to witch doctor mumbo jumbo should be named so that people can be protected against their predatory acts.

It’s sometimes good to be reminded why we need to have services like switchboard around, despite the vast strides that we have made as a community. There will always be those who continue to be marginalised and victimised because they love a person of the same sex.

And The Band Played On

2009-03-20T06:41:00.000-07:00

I often spend my time railing against journalists and journalism. After spending 4 years studying for a degree and some time working in the media after, I feel like I know enough about the whole industry to generally be completely appalled by most of what actually goes on.

My dirty secret is that I am something of a romantic and an idealist. I try to mask that behind cynicism but it leaks out in all sorts of unexpected ways. That romance and idealism is part of what drove me towards journalism – a genuine desire to do something good. But like most things in life, it is never that simple and it didn’t work out.

I tend to stereotype all journos as grasping bastards. I don’t truly believe that, but I think the economics of the media consistently discourage the type of journalism that I truly admire. Subjectivity is not necessarily a bad thing in journalism. Indeed, sometimes it is the fetishisation of objectivity which I think causes the most danger. There are many issues where in the interests of maintaining a certain ‘balance’ journalists will allow outright falsehoods to be printed on a range of issues. Writers and editors seem paralysed by having to adjudicate between genuine disputes and afraid to say when arguments are being created for specific moral or social reasons (eg abstinence-only sex education or the teaching of biology and specifically evolution in schools).

All of this is to say that sometimes a righteous subjectivity, when backed up by solid research and facts, has a way of cutting through the bullshit and producing a piece of writing which is genuinely thrilling and enlightening. Randy Shilts is My New Favourite Person in the World right now because of his book And the Band Played On which I devoured in a couple of days and promptly re-read just because of how good it is.

The book is brilliant piece of investigative journalism which takes a sweeping look at the early years of the AIDS epidemic from a dizzying array of scientific, political and social angles. The book is like a mosaic picture; Shilts lays each small tile one by one, layering on anecdotes, statistics, profiles, details from Congressional hearings, private memos and diaries and most affectingly, the tragic fears of those truly affected.

The picture which emerges left me breathless. This is a book which is over 600 pages long and yet reads as compulsively as a thriller and is as heartbreaking as a great tragedy. Shilts’ anger flows through his prose, but it is a controlled anger, focussed and relentless at picking apart the massive institutional failures as well as the occasional successes of the AIDS epidemic. The book is not just an angry rant – there moments of mordant humour throughout as well as great displays of courage and love. Most importantly, he gives humanity and dimension to those affected at all levels by the virus; to the scientists and officials who struggled desperately against federal indifference, institutional homophobia and crippling political correctness, to those families and friends who watched their loved ones die and to the thousands of men and women who were cut down, most of them in the prime of their lives.

The amount of research in this book is mind boggling. Not only does Shilts carefully lay out all the myriad of conflicting attitudes and turfs amongst the gay community (which he would be expected to know since he played some role in them), but he is equally adept at describing international scientific disputes, public health bureaucracies and political backroom dealing. There are many heroes that emerge from this story at all levels, and only a few outright villains. What makes the book ultimately so frustrating is that Shilts shows that the epidemic did not have to be as bad as it turned out to be, but that the forces working against an effective early reaction were just too strong. You understand perfectly where it all went to shit, while still being under no impression that this was an inevitable situation.

Shilts also wrote The Mayor of Castro Street, a book I have previously sung the praises of and one which provided such an incredible foundation for the very moving Milk. His last book, Conduct Unbecoming, about gay in the military will be next on my list. For a really beautiful treatment of his life, then this article is hard to beat.

Rant Alert! Razi the Nazi does it again

2009-03-17T09:03:00.000-07:00

I try not to get too hung up on what the Catholic Church does anymore. I grew up within the Church and was never exposed to any of the abuses. All the priests I had seemed to be nice men and one or two were genuinely kind and decent. I don’t think I was badly affected in any way by church attendance apart from the sheer boredom of having to do it every Sunday. It never caused any kind of mental anguish for me when I realised I was gay.

But the statements by Pope Razi and Nazi since he has been appointed pontiff have become increasingly shrill and hardline. Over Christmas, we had his memorable statement that the threat of homosexuality was greater then the destruction of the rain forests (who knew we had such power?!). A couple of weeks ago, he was de-excommunicating a bunch of extreme right wingers, one of whom was an insane Holocaust denier. The Church then defended the excommunication of a mother who allowed her 9 year old daughter to undergo an abortion after being raped by her stepfather in Brazil. And now, on a tour of Africa, he has said that condoms aren’t the answer to the epidemic of HIV in the region and could make the problem worse.

To be fair to Razi, he has a point. The only way to protect yourself from catching the virus through sexual contact is abstinence. This is what the Catholic Church teaches, and in strict medical terms, they are correct. In a perfect, hermetically sealed world where nobody had a libido and perfect access to full public health information, this would be acceptable. But unfortunately for the Catholic Church, their vision of the world is nothing like the one we all live in. Their vision is one which is so much at odds with the reality of dealing with an epidemic as horrifying as AIDS, that they should be ashamed of every utterance which drips from their mothballed and incomprehensible dogma.

The problems of dealing with AIDS in Africa are enormous. The cultural barriers to proper treatment, encompassing issues around gender, sexual orientation, poverty and religious fundamentalism make the work of public healh authorities and NGOs a Sisyphean task. The Church could play a role in this by helping to moderate the extreme wing of Catholicism which has taken root in many regions and recognising that some degree of flexibility around condom use at the very least is the only moral way to approach the issue. Instead, Razi has decided to pander to the worst instincts of the Church and ignore the endemic suffering the region. His call will be taken up by priests and bishops throughout the region who continue to make false and murderous claims to prevent people from using condoms to protect themselves from infection.

The Church, as ever, has no shame.

Watching Watchmen

2009-03-10T09:08:00.001-07:00

I liked it better than I thought I would…

OK if that sounds like I am damning it with faint praise, then I guess I am. I was briefly excited by Watchmen, but my fears for the film grew after I read the comic. I could just feel the compromises which might have to be made in the transfer to the big screen and I thought that’s what ultimately would take away some of the idiosyncrasy that made the comic so good. Lastly, as I mentioned when I wrote about the comic, what was groundbreaking over twenty years ago does not necessarily carry the same cache now.

With all those caveats included, there is a lot to admire in this film. I would imagine that Snyder largely got the film he wanted – length issues aside (which I will discuss later), this is very much his vision of the comic and it plays precisely to his strengths and weaknesses as a director. His strengths are an ability to fully visualise a concept, to make it fast moving and exciting without seeming wearying. As much as I hated 300, I can’t deny that there is immense technical skill there. I loved his re-imagining of Dawn of the Dead. And though Watchmen is about 2 hours 45 minutes long, I was never bored. I thought the structure of having to condense 12 chapters into one piece would lead to major pacing issues, but I was wrong. It moves really well for the most part. It’s also startlingly beautiful at times, and the ‘speed ramping’ technique didn’t bother me half as much as I expected.

I also think that Snyder is good with actors – in films as big as his, he seems to be good at picking unusual performers who can give the goods in demanding technical situations. The cast of Watchmen is a hodge-podge of B-listers and almost complete unknowns, yet each of them (aside from one major role) deliver. Rorschach is getting the majority of the praise and deservedly so – Jackie Earle Healey is brilliantly bleak and uncompromising in the role and Patrick Wilson is understated and charming. I think though I should give a special mention to Matthew Goode. Goode plays Veidt and this seems to be the role which has been most radically re-thought in comparison to the comic book. I actually really like how Snyder and his writers have shaped the character and I think Goode does an excellent job.

OK, so that’s what I liked about Watchmen – it was pretty uncompromising, stylish, nicely paced and well acted. But there are also major problems with the film which ultimately derail it and prevent it from becoming the dark masterpiece that so many fans were hoping for.

First, as good as I think Snyder can be with actors (Dawn of the Dead is filled with great supporting turns anchored by a fine, flinty performance from Sarah Polley), he really sells the women of Watchmen short. Laurie is turned into a bit of a whiney cocktease. I had a problem with her in the comic where she never had the stature of the other characters. Moore didn’t seem very interested in exploring what it would be like for Laurie to be the only female in the group outside of whatever sexual tension she generated. It doesn’t help matters that Malin Ackerman is one of the weaker actors in the ensemble.

The biggest hurdle for me though, is despite the good to great work done by a lot of very talented people, the whole thing just didn’t come together emotionally at the end. I have read how some viewers were devastated by the ending of the film, and both times I didn’t get it. I wasn’t invested enough emotionally in these characters, in their respective redemptions or damnations to be moved. The Dark Knight, for all its sprawl, worked emotionally – you felt the devastation of the death of Rachel for both Harvey and Bruce and it drove the final act of the film. There is no corresponding emotional pitch in Watchmen and it suffers in the end from having a lot of build up without no real release.

In the comic, the destruction of New York has real weight. It is a horrifying moment and artist Dave Gibbon is allowed several pages of pure artwork to depict the savagery that results from Veidt’s plan. Snyder flubs this moment completely – for a film which is so intensely and gruesomely violent at times, the massacre of millions is treated with an almost off-hand casualness. This makes the aguish felt by the characters in the film less immediate and desperate than in the comic and so the moral compromise of Veidt, Laurie, Dan, Adrian and Dr Manhattan doesn’t seem that big a deal.

The film also seems to be a bit confusing for newcomers, both as a result of trying to condense so much back-story into the running time but also through choices made by the filmmakers. I went to see this with one of my best friends, a pretty clued in guy, and he was confused about several points in the film. This isn’t a case of just needing a second viewing, but in essential plot points that needed to be communicated. In addition, the film seems to muddy-up the precise nature of the costumed heroes. I thought it was fairly clear from the book that only Dr Manhatten and perhaps Ozmandiyus had abilities which would be considered ‘special’ – everybody else had a combination of technology, intelligence and training to do their job. But Snyder seems to imply in the fight scenes and especially with Rorschach that the Watchmen have genuine outlandish abilities.

Finally, the make-up is the one technical area where the film badly slips up. Richard Nixon looks like he is auditioning for a bad amateur production of Cyrano de Bergerac while Carla Guigino’s performance is ruined by some terrible old age make-up (take a look at the great work done on Kate Winslet in The Reader to get an idea of how it should be done).

There was a fair bit of chatter on the internet how Watchmen could be a gamechanger of a blockbuster. I don’t think so – The Dark Knight seems to have pipped it there and frankly Watchmen is by no means the best comic book film I have seen (Batman Returns, Spiderman 2, The Dark Knight and perhaps Hellboy 2 are my current favourites). But it does push the envelope in interesting ways and I think Snyder and his collaborators deserve praise for the care and skill they did show.

Bullshit, Bullshit, Bullshit

2009-03-08T01:35:00.000-08:00

Gordon Brown is a Grade A, giant honking dickhead. Seriously, he is an ass face of epic proportions.

According to BBC News, Brown was meeting with gay rights groups in Downing Street and spoke out against the homophobia of Proposition 8 in California. That was the ballot initiative that stripped gay couples of full marriage rights.

Except, here’s the thing. Gay Californians already have access to domestic partnership benefits which are largely on par with the civil partnerships which the Labour Government instituted in 2005. If what the fuckwads who voted for Prop 8 were homophobic, then Brown’s own civil partnerships law is homophobic because it entrenched in law the same separation. It refused to acknowledge that gay relationships were on par with straight ones.

Here is what our dear leader was quoted as saying;

Mr Brown said "this attempt to undo good that has been done is unacceptable".
He added: "This shows why we have always got to be vigilant, always got to fight homophobic behaviour and any form of discrimination."
He also praised equality campaigners in the UK for "changing opinion" about same-sex unions. "You have shown how the legislative process, by your pressure, can respond," he said.

Yes, it can respond by enshrining the idea that gay people are not eligible for full marriage rights. And that he had the gall to say this in front of gay campaigners who would no doubt know far more about the whole situation than him is profoundly stupid.

Seriously, this is one of those moments where I have just had enough of Brown. I will no doubt kick myself in the near future for saying this, but can he just fuck off somewhere far away?

Entertaining Mr Sloane

2009-03-04T05:32:00.001-08:00

Joe Orton is one of those playwrights that I have always ‘known’ about but not actually read any of his work. A couple of months ago I read the brilliant biography Prick Up Your Ears after hearing the movie repeatedly eulogised by some of my best friends. I loved the book – again, it’s one of those biographies which ably highlights the life of the central figure and those surrounding him, but also gives you a tangible sense of the world they lived in and how Orton was shaped, reflected and contributed to its change.

And yet, I haven’t sought out any of his plays to read, mostly because I find reading plays a frustrating experience. In a similar way to reading screenplays, I just find it difficult to imagine the full impact of something. I can admire the language, the structure and characters but still rarely become fully engaged. This is especially true for comedies where so much relies on performance and timing.

That’s why I felt lucky enough to be able to see Entertaining Mr Sloane at the Trafalgar Studios 2 weeks ago. One of only three full length stage plays that Orton wrote before his brutal murder, I always got the impression that Sloane was the slight red-headed stepchild of Loot and What the Butler Saw, and if that is the case, then I can’t wait to see the other two. I loved Sloane – it was one of the funniest nights out in the theatre I have had in ages.

Much of this is due to two performances – Imelda Staunton as Kath and Simon Paisley Day as her brother Ed, who battle for the body of Sloane (Matthew Horne). Both of these performers are brilliantly at maintaining an almost frenzied pitch of sexual excitement and discomfort that never bubbles over into being shrill. I thought Staunton was playing a bit too broad in the opening scenes, but her seduction scene with Horne was superb. Meanwhile, Day is hysterical playing a man so tightly wound that he threatens to spring out at any moment.

The battle between these characters and Sloane turns surprisingly tough in the second act – I was genuinely surprised by the level of nihilism and misogyny in the play. I don’t mean to sound like a prude; there was nothing here that particularly shocked me. But I have a long experience of disappointment with supposedly extreme and shocking cultural works from the sixties which look oddly toothless now. Sloane still packs a punch and this production gives full vent to that.

The one element which didn’t really work was Matthew Horne as Sloane. He was good enough in the opening scenes but as the play continued, he got increasingly out of his depth. Firstly, the blonde wig he wears was a mistake, the only lapse in an otherwise exemplary designed and directed show. But Horne never exuded the dangerous, ambivalent sexuality that the role was screaming for. He is a nice looking bloke without a shred of sensuality and thus makes it difficult to believe him as the catalyst for Kath and Ed’s extreme reactions. This is a huge shame, because I think with a better actor in the role, this trio would have been hard to beat. As it is, the production is very good, but it has a hole at the centre that prevents it from being truly memorable.

Revolutionary Road

2009-03-01T13:44:00.000-08:00

I finally got to see The Great Kate in Revolutionary Road, the film that most critics believe she should have been nominated for. Good a she is in The Reader, the role doesn’t really allow her to dig into the character of Hanna. You can’t say the same about the role of April Wheeler - this film lives or dies on the basis of Kate and Leo’s performances, and the truth is the film more than lives. Their work is amazing - soulful, passionate and complex. They elevate the film above its rather pedestrian script and somewhat unimaginative direction. It helps that they are backed by strong supporting cast who manage to add a great deal of nuance that isn’t really suggested by the screenplay.

This is one of those situations where I wonder what it would be like for people to see who haven’t read the book. As I said a couple of months ago, this is bruising material - the Wheelers are the horror version of a golden couple turned rotten, casually destroying one another in a series of brutal fights and actions which ultimately destroys them both.

The film is very faithful to the narrative and spirit of the book. It in no way sugar coats the actions of either of the characters - they act like real shits, but you do understand where each is coming from and there is a tragedy to their situation. I was slightly concerned that the film may come off as melodramatic and forced, but I should have realised that Kate and Leo have honed their craft to such a diamond-sharp precision that they manage to sidestep all the pitfalls.
I really admire Leo for taking this role. Frank is ultimately a weak, arrogant man, who has no real insight into April and Leo doesn’t shy away from playing that ugliness. He is excellent in the role and I think unfairly overlooked in the awards season - I think this is one of his strongest adult roles yet. Michael Shannon is spectacular in two scenes as ‘the crazy guy who speaks the truth’ breathing life into what is essentially a clichéd cipher.

But it is Winslet who ultimately owns this film. April can appear an inscrutable character but I don’t understand who some reviewers seem mystified by her motivations at different point in the movie. She has extreme reactions, but it always seemed fairly clear where they cane from. Winslet is so amazingly adept at showing fleeting, unspoken emotions that she comes closest to portraying the awesome psychological depth of the original novel. April’s illusions about her own and Frank’s lives are shattered by the end of the story and Winslet is devastating in the film’s final scenes.

The film is beautifully mounted and shot and Mendes once again shows that, while he isn’t the most visually inventive of directors, he has an amazing ability to elicit stunning work from actors, The main problem is the script, which is workmanlike. It would be enormously difficult to translate Yates’ acute observations, but the screenplay never really digs as deep as it should, It is the supporting characters who suffer the most. I can’t really blame their desire to concentrate on the Wheelers but even elements of their past which seem essential (such as April’s relationship with her parents) have been excised.

Definitely not the best choice for a date movie, but it is a good, sometimes brilliant adaptation.

Watchmen

2009-02-28T09:05:00.000-08:00

I had a similar reaction to reading Watchmen that I did to Revolutionary Road and In Cold Blood. All of these books were trailblazers in their own ways, virtually inventing the conventions that would become clichés over the years. All three are superbly written (and in Watchmen’s case, brilliantly drawn) and yet the sheer force of their influence has diluted their impact for me.

I can’t imagine what the impact would have been if I had read this twenty years ago, when what Moore and Gibbons were doing was fairly revolutionary. But I have seen superheroes deconstructed over and over again in the last decade - its virtually impossible to have a hero anymore without some acknowledgement of mental damage or kinkiness. I know that is thanks to the foundation built by Watchmen but it makes reading thee book a slight anti-climax.

Lots of things bother me about the comic. I don’t think the climax works all that well - as I have read pointed out again and again, the final book is simply an extended monologue from the ‘villain’ of the piece explaining his plan in excruciating detail. The lead-up the this revelation felt curiously flat. The highpoints for me are the prison break and the Laurie/Dr Manhattan stuff on Mars and I didn’t feel the narrative kept much sense of urgency towards the end.

As expansive as this world felt (and much of that detail is beautifully handled in both text and image) I don’t think it really addressed how or what the costumed heroes actually did inn their hey day. How did they fight crime? Was it a case of superior technology? Strength? Did they have some extra X-Factor? Maybe I am being nitpicky but this is something that genuinely bothered me all the way through.

Saying this, the characters are excellent. I loved Dr Manhattan and Night Owl II and wished that they had the time to go into The Comedian and Silk Spectre 1 a little bit more.. Rorschach seems to be a bit of a fan favourite but, frankly, there was something about the character that whiffed of a what a thirteen year old boy would find cool. My main problem is with Laurie, aka Silk Spectre II, who I thought was repetitive and irritating in way that no other character was. She didn’t seem to have much of an arc and frankly her personality would been enough to drive me to Mars.

There were other elements I adored - such as the horrific story interlaced involving the Black Freighter which was nightmarish yet hugely compelling. Up until the final book, I admired the structure of the thing - how you got bits and pieces of the puzzle but you just went with it, anticipating that it would make sense at the end. And despite my antipathy towards the eventual denouement, I think Moore did bring it all together. As a piece of imaginative alterno-world fiction, it had irresistible moments.

But that’s all it was for me - stunning moments in a story that never quite added up to the sum of its parts. As an aspiring writer, I cant deny how inspiring the whole thing is - in much the same way as Buffy, it shows how much juice you can get out of something when you treat such apparent flippant genre fair with appropriate gravity. Though I think that Watchmen looks its age, there is no denying the power of its story.

The film should be very interesting…

Awesome Oscars

2009-02-25T05:39:00.000-08:00

This may have been the most purely enjoyable Oscars in years.

I say this not only because of the ceremony itself, but also because of the circumstances I saw it in. I grew up watching the Oscars. When I was younger, it was a bit of an annual event, where I would spend the night at my aunt’s house with her and my cousin and stay up all night watching it. As I am (unfortunately!) not able to do that anymore, my eagle-eyed friend came up with an alternative - Rich Mix in Shoreditch held an Oscars Party in their main hall, which included a couple of dozen fellow Oscar freaks in fancy clothes, sipping champagne and wine and watching the ceremony, with a hugely enjoyable table quiz beforehand. I stumbled out of there at 5.00am with my friend Rob after having a brilliant night. That is definitely the way I want to view the ceremony is future.

As for the ceremony itself – well it always helps to be slightly tipsy on cheap champagne and rip-off wine, but I thoroughly enjoyed the whole thing. Unlike the last couple of years, this felt like it was a gracious, fun celebration of the year in film and less like a competition. I think this feeling was immeasurably helped by having previous winners celebrate the current nominees directly instead of a tired clips package. I know this format has come in for a fair amount of criticism, and while it didn’t work perfectly, I thought it truly allowed the nominee to feel prized even if they didn’t win the actual award. And it led to lovely moments such as the one shared by Shirley McLaine and Anne Hathaway and DeNiro and Penn.

The winners were all gracious and sweet and emotional in all the right ways. Nobody embarrassed themselves, and several of the speeches were actually heart-felt and memorable. I think Sean Penn and especially the criminally attractive Dustin Lance Black should both be particularly proud about their speeches for their Milk awards. On a purely superficial level, the amount of Slumdog winners led to a pleasing sense of diversity amongst the award winners.

And Hugh Jackman should definitely be given the gig again next year. He was relaxed, sweet, VERY sexy and completely at ease on the stage. His opening musical number had some completely inspired moments – the piss take on The Reader, the cheap looking cardboard sets, but I have to give special mention to the brilliance of the moment with Anne Hathaway. She managed to be utterly endearing and hilarious in about 90 seconds of stage time, and Christ, what a brilliant voice. Get her a musical role NOW!

Not everything worked – the second musical sequence was a bit jumbled, the in memorium section seemed badly staged and you just can’t escape from how awkward some of the scripted presenting duos sound. But it didn’t detract from the evening too much.

However, if Hugh Jackman isn’t available next year, can I suggest Tina Fey and Steve Martin?

Reading Matter 3 - A New Moon

2009-02-21T07:15:00.000-08:00

I wrote quite admiringly about the original Twilight film and book. I finally picked up the second book and had my worst fears confirmed; Stephanie Meyer is a one trick pony. The dreamy, romantic intensity which gave Twilight its propulsion turns into turgid, ridiculous melodrama in A New Moon. The quotidian aspect of the vampires in the original novel is replaced with clumsy, amateurish attempts at expanding the mythology of her world. And Bella and Edward, who attained a kind of perfect ion in their teen torment come off as lunatic manic-depressives in this book. Bella in particular frequently acts in a completely infuriating and mental manner throughout - she seems incapable of putting together even the simplest of thoughts and her lack of confidence, which was charming in the first book, is ludicrously overplayed in this story. Seriously, I have no idea outside of her smell (apparently) why Edward would want to be near her. Meyer has some interesting ideas about the pack instinct of the werewolves, and Jacob is charming in the first half of the novel, but that plot line is ceremoniously dumped in favour of a stupid jaunt to Italy and some sub-Anne Rice posturing.

Reading Matter 2 - Kill Your Neighbours

2009-02-21T07:14:00.000-08:00

I think this was the perfect antidote to Library. This is a nasty, brutally direct, thoroughly disreputable trashy novel that I read in about 4 or 5 hours and loved every brainless, superficial moment. It’s sort of a poor man’s American Psycho set in the music industry at the height of he BritPop era of the late nineties. It features pretty extreme sex and violence, is told completely from the perspective of a lead character that makes Mengele look like Dr Doolittle and it was just the ticket to blow the cobwebs of Hollinghurst away. Ultimately, the book is thoroughly forgettable but I can’t deny that there was a type of lunatic, diseased genius at work. It takes a lot to make me laugh out loud at a book, but this one had me in pretty audible stitches throughout. It’s the perfect beach novel.

Reading Matter 1 - The Swimming Pool Library

2009-02-21T07:13:00.000-08:00

This is the second time I have read a Hollinghurst novel and I pretty much had the sae reaction as when I read The Line of Beauty. Hollinghurst is a beautiful stylist who ultimately write books which are emotionally dead. I can’t deny that The Swimming Pool Library and Beauty are the works of somebody with an awesome command of the English language. But, at least for me, they have no pulse - no soul. I remained completely unmoved throughout Library, apart from some moments towards the end concerning Lord Nantwich. I feel like I am missing something by not appreciating these novels more; but in each one, the main character is brilliantly described, completely believable and an absolute shit that I couldn’t care less what happens. The stylistic touches just aren’t enough to keep me interested.

Doubt

2009-02-10T01:49:00.000-08:00

There really isn’t a huge amount to say about the film other than it is a classy production, filled with great work that ultimately isn’t quite as powerful as you would hope. I think this is mostly down to Doubt’s status as a play first and a film second. It is primarily a verbal battle, with all scenes revolving around a single idea – a very literary device which would make for great theatre but is slightly lacking onscreen.

That doesn’t mean that this isn’t an engrossing film. Writer/Director Shanley has written some brilliant scenes and the film is surprisingly spry, clocking in at under 2 hours which feels like a bit of a blessing in today’s bloated times. I do feel that the whole “did he do anything?” question was slightly over-played. I think it is pretty clear from the film that something of consequence did happen in the sacristy, and that Hoffman’s character had a secret that was considered, rightfully or wrongfully, as shameful.

I actually think the crux of the film was Hoffman’s sexuality and the possible homosexuality of the Miller child but this was only hinted at as the real reason for their shared silence. It did lead to the final scenes having a feeling of artificiality which stretched the film’s believability.

But the elements that work, work brilliantly. Amy Adams seems to have gotten a bit dismissed by most critics, probably seeing her work as a mere variation on past roles. But playing this type of open-hearted, good character without turning them into a sop is difficult, and Adams does this beautifully. Hoffman benefits in a similar way to Adams, in that his past roles as creepy bastards inevitably colours his performance here – though he plays his priest as a fundamentally good if arrogant man, there is something about his persona which makes your distrust him. It’s great, subtle work.

And dearest Meryl, The Greatest Actress of her Generation, who just seems to get better and better every year… she is as good as you would expect in the role, gleefully playing the dark comedy as well as the more complex material. It’s a great part and she, at times, plays it daringly theatrical, but always maintains a core of emotional truth. Shanley colours our perceptions of her character’s motives in interesting ways, subtly showing the suffocating hierarchy of the church, intimating her past experiences with a paedophilic priest and having fun with her extreme religious views (Frosty the Snowman!).

The best scene in the film is a showcase for Viola Davis as Mrs Miller – Davis deserves her Oscar nomination for these few minutes as she heartbreakingly describes the type of compromise she is willing to make as a mother to try and give her son a future. Streep is wonderful here too (she is a wonderfully reactive actress), but Davis provides the dark, beating heart of the material.

Stoned

2009-02-06T03:52:00.000-08:00

I had a long post written about one of my favourite ‘Family’ movies of the last couple of years – The Family Stone. I watched it during the day or two of being trapped by snow in Stratford, and like all beloved films, it hold up brilliantly on repeated viewings. Unfortunately, I deleted the post and rather then re-write the entire thing, here is the gist.

1) Tom Bezucha wrote a superb script. Apart from the ending which verges on being pat and sentimental, it is filled with interesting conflicts where everybody has an understandable point of view and a sincere love for all characters, no matter how damaged or up-tight they are. The dialogue is stylised but consistently believable and gives the actors some of the best material that any of them have worked with.

2) The Family Stone has one of those dream acting ensembles which makes going to the cinema such a pleasurable experience. Seriously, I couldn’t fault a single cast member, but the whole thing is dominated by a trio of mighty female performances. Diane Keaton, Rachel McAdams and especially Sarah Jessica Parker play completely different characters yet each brings comic élan, emotional depth and star quality. Parker especially has a close-to-impossible character and yet manages to evoke sympathy and understanding for the ‘villain’ of the piece without ruining the integrity of Meredith.

3) Christmas films are always going to verge on sentimentality, and The Family Stone is certainly no different. But I found the film’s sentiment to be utterly heart warming. It’s genuinely rare in modern film for unabashed affection like what is displayed amongst the Stones to be evoked with such genuine warmth and lack of irony.

4) The Family Stone also has a really interesting, modern take on gay relationships. One of the son is both gay and deaf, a recipe for disaster in such an emotional film as this. But I loved the casualness of the relationship, both in how the couple are portrayed and how they are accepted by the rest of the family. The major conflict scene, which revolves around the differing attitudes to homosexuality is brilliantly written and performed by the entire cast, with special marks once more to Parker and Keaton. Parker is the nominal villain for what she says, but Keaton’s matriarch is almost as much in the wrong and it provides a fascinating view of how even the most liberal of straight people can have trouble processing what it means to be gay.

There were other pearls of wisdom, but I will reiterate that The Family Stone joins Elf as one of my top choices amongst the newer Christmas films, that seem to get the true spirit of what it means to be part of an unconventional family.