An Exercise in Irrelevance

Saw the Doll’s house at the Northern Stage this week; it was well done, had some nice gags in it. But basically, it was dreary, long-winded and rather dull. I didn’t like any of the characters, the central plot device was silly and I just wanted it to end. Right at the end, it perked up a bit, with the patronized woman, spreading her wings and starting anew; but, this felt unbelievable, and it makes no sense spending two and a half setting the scene for 5 minutes of excitement. I can see that the play must have been revolutionary at the time, but it now is only of historical interest.

Battle of the Planets, on the other hand, has little plot, doesn’t really make sense, and is generally daft. But it’s full of 70′s haircuts, the animation is exciting and the score is wonderful. Added to this a chief baddie who wears red, thigh-length boots, a villanous cackle and the most fullsome pout this side of page 3 and you have a winner. The Doll’s House has probably helped to change our world, redefine the relationship between men and women, and has last a 100 years. But BofP was more fun to watch and at 30 years old ain’t doing bad either.

Originally published on my old blog site.

I have finally finished reading the Night Listener. I’ve always had a fragmented relationship with Armistead Maupin; I keep on getting half-way through a book, then stopping. I borrowed More Tales of the City from a friend, for example, and was half-way through reading it, when I found the copy I had bought 3 years before and then stopped. In that case, I had moved house in between and it got backed at the bottom. The Night Listener got caught by my move from Manchester. I’ve tried to start reading it again several times, but mostly while travelling; I think it’s been around the world at least twice. For some reason, I picked it up a few days ago, and read the second half in two days. My conclusions: it’s great, nicely paced, gentle and engrossing; the writer-writing-about-a-writer plot only annoys occasionally.

To celebrate my success in finishing it, I picked up Atonement, as I have stalled on this several times. Hmmm. Well, less good here. I still couldn’t care less about Bryony’s adolescent playwrite prentensions, nor understand why it needs so many chapters. Worse, I’ve read these chapters four times now. I should hire the film, but it’s got Keira Knightly in; an actor that you can see through both metaphorically and physically.

I’ve been looking forward to the second season of Northern Exposure for a while; unfortunately, the music has been replaced with elevator musack. Moreover, as well as the music being badly chosen, it’s been mixed poorly, at bad levels. It totally breaks the suspension of disbelief, making it’s very hard to get involved. Very poor performance, indeed.

Originally published on my old blog site.

All a bit mad, having been on the road for a while, so just a quick review here. When he started, I thought he was well past his best; probably because he was singing in a strangulated falsetto when we got in.

Anyway, this turned out to be wrong; he was just warming up. The singing got better and the guitar was wonderfully rhythmic. Afterwards we squeezed into the little hall for Monica Vasconcelos, who played mellow jazz, and samba tinged music. Good voice, excellent band.

And all for 7 quid, in the cheap seats which I quite like. No complaints there.

Originally published on my old blog site.

Went to the biscuit factory yesterday for the first time. On the whole, it was pretty good, and I enjoyed it. Most of the stuff in there was wildly too expensive; they had a lovely mirror, for instance, with a carved wooden frame, but 700 quid is just too much for something that has a reasonable chance of getting broken.

One of the things that amused me, though, was the artists’ statements. They seem to be required these days; people appear to judge art by what the artist is thinking rather than what they can see. I guess that they are teaching the writing of these personal statements in the art colleges nowadays; one thing that it is clear they are not teaching is grammar—in some cases it was terrible (okay, I hear you saying, maybe the pot is calling the kettle here, but blogs are quick written not studied).

These statements varied from the pretentious to the prosaic—with more of the former. A selection of my favourites (or paraphrases from memory) with my translations were:

• the individual instintively views the piece from many different angles and viewpoints (translation: it’s a shiny mirror and looks pretty in the lights).
• the latest series explorers the artists emotional response to the weather on the bleak moorlands of Northumberia (translation: hell, it’s windy up here).
• "I dislike personal statements as they force the artist to move from the abstract and ambiguous realm of the medium, to the concrete realm of writing" (translation: I’m a painter! I like painting; I hate writing).

My favourite statement, though, was short and simple. It went

"Emma (I think this was her name) generally paints from the local environment. She paints from what she sees. She likes to work on location wherever possible as she enjoys the interaction with passers-by".

Wonderful; if she had replaced "enjoys the interaction" with "likes to natter" it would have been perfect; frank and to the point. The paintings were good as well.

Originally published on my old blog site.

Lions and Lambs — three interlocking stories, over the theme of war and the media. Well done, entertaining, and a light touch. Rather too earnest too eager for me. Lacking a bit in humour

We own the night — a cops and robbers flick, with added family drama. Not a bad film, although felt rather like Cagney and Lacey on steroids. Good performances all around, lots of brooding silences and a fortune spent on blood bags.

Beowulf — finished it off. Looked great, some wonderful hacking and slaying. Story was a variation of the original with (as noted previously) added masturbation gags. Turns out that the story was adapted by Neil Gaiman; explains a lot.

L’auberge rouge — a black, murder farce. Big ensemble cast, lots of fast dialogue, and pretty well done. Not nearly as good as Juno, but the best of the lot.

Juno — missed the first five minutes of this, so watched them as well, and then let it run on a bit. Strangely, it’s been Japanese filtered on the way back; that is no swearing, no sexual references or, indeed, to any bodily functions; head-lopping and guns are okay, but sadly Juno is short on the latter.

Four and a bit films in one flight — well, I am tired and all the of the padding in my cushion has gone, and everything from my knees to sacrum is aching. And my shoulders and neck come to that.

Originally published on my old blog site.

Watched Enchanted, some of Beowulf and almost all of Juno.

Enchanted — a reverse fairy-tale, like a live action Shrek. Not bad, actually, kept me going for a while.

Beowulf — blood, guts and some serious beef swilling. Definately aimed at the adult market, containing at least one mastubration gag. Would probably have watched it, but the it was a bit dark and I couldn’t hear the dialogue over the plane noise, so I stopped half way through.

Juno — a comedy about a teenage pregnancy. This was by far the best of the bunch. Quirky, funny, and beautifully acted. The whole thing is done without sentimentality (just like Enchanted, er…), but the characters were still wonderfully endearing.

I spent too much of the film trying to identify two of the actors (from the daredevil and spiderman films as it happens). Yeah, well, I’m on a plane and ache all over.

Originally published on my old blog site.