I’m never much happier than when I have a good, wholesome, all consuming music fad taking over my life, so happy indeed I am to report that I am at the moment listening to very little apart from French pop from the 1960s, in particular Francoise Hardy.
Regular readers of my blog (there are millions, I keep telling myself) will know that to my shame, I decided to investigate her music after building up a crush of monolithic proportions based on a photo of her from 1966 that was given pride of place in my legendary (but very tasteful) ‘Fittie Folder’. But the truth is I am not quite that shallow and the only reason I found that photo in the first place was because I was already listening to Serge Gainsbourg and there she was, in all her loveliness, on the ‘if you like this you might enjoy this’ bit of Gainsbourg’s Amazon pages.
My starting point was what turned out to be possibly the best value CD I have ever bought, a Hardy compilation called ‘The Vogue Years’ – 50 tracks on a double CD package, excellent photos and sleevenotes and all a bargain at £4.50 with free P&P from Amazon. 50 tracks in one go from an artist I am completely new to is a lot to take on, so, being Col, I stuck it on I-tunes (and straight onto the ipod), found myself an excellent Hardy discography online, then spent a long evening splitting the tracks into sections based on the original album they first appeared on. I even downloaded the cover art for each album, so that anyone casually browsing through my ‘pod’ will be bowled over at the extent of my Hardy collection (or perhaps not). All in all this has made it a lot easier to listen in relevant, smaller sections rather than trawling through the whole thing in one go.
Despite the fact that she audibly matures musically (and I presume lyrically, although I never did pay much attention in French lessons) over the period covered here (1962 – 1967) there is a generally pleasant ambience throughout, conjuring up images of Parisien pavement cafes, good quality coffee, non tipped Gaulloises and beautiful young people on scooters or in Deux Cheveaux. This is of course aided by the fact that all songs (on this compilation at least, as she did record in English and other languages too) are sung in her native French. She was (still is) a very clever lady too, writing most of her own songs and playing the guitar. The language barrier is no big deal, as her voice is beautiful in itself, soft and understated; the only comparison I can make is that at times she sounds a little Marianne Faithful in her early days of the mid sixties when recording for Decca. There are many beautiful songs here (I can honestly say I don’t think there is a ‘bad’ track out of the entire 50), many of which have a familiar melody and may well have been re-written into English hits, but at this moment in time I can’t think of a single example.
The earlier material here is more conventional 1960s pop, blending influences of twist, beat, Phil Spector and the ‘Wall Of Sound’, The Shadows, Motown and The Beatles, later progressing to introspective folk, plaintive ballads, rock and more traditional French ‘chanson’
I’m still getting acquainted with what is effectively an ‘instant Francoise collection’ (it’s certainly too comprehensive to be considered just a ‘greatest hits’) and it continues to grow on me, but so far, for me the strongest material is from what seems to be two of her most critically acclaimed albums; ‘Mon Amie Le Rose’ (1964) and ‘L’Amitee’ (1965) both of which are included almost in their entirety on ‘The Vogue Years’
This is very beautiful, unimposing, melodic pop from a fine, talented artist that is the perfect antidote to all that is the stress of modern life. Something as simple and accessible as this music and her fine voice can not only take me away from things for a while, but reaffirm my love of life in the process.
In a word, 'Wow'
Thursday 25 February 2010
Monday 22 February 2010
My Humble Tribute To Uncle Seamus
Uncle Seamus passed away yesterday. I don't know all the details other than his funeral is tomorrow (no hanging about in Ireland - very similar to Spain really - this time last year Ana was frantically trying to get a flight out in time for the funeral of our late beloved Abuelita who was to be buried about 18 hours after passing away) He'd had a good long life (in his late 80s) and as he had been a widower for a few years since Auntie Lizzie passed away, I hope the end was a peaceful one and, if things work out the way they should, they can be reunited in a better place.
I have a few memories of Uncle Seamus, so I thought I would put them in my blog by way of a humble tribute.
I first met him on one of only two visits I have made in my lifetime to Dad's homeland of Co Antrim in Northern Ireland. We went as a family (with the exception of new born Matt, who we left home alone - just kidding of course - he stayed with a friend of Mum's who was apparently dying to look after him - which was fine by me, because I still hadn't got quite used to the competition) in the summer of 1969, when I was 4 years old. We saw a lot of Seamus and Lizzie and their own kids at that time were in their teens and early twenties I think. He drove a VW Beetle, and I dropped a Double 99 ice cream cone on his shoes whilst legging it back a little too excited from the ice cream van on the beach at Cushendal. He had a great 'knee bouncing' technique (rather like Dad) and coined my official Irish nick-name, 'Colin Glen Sausages' (look, I was 4 ok, and maybe you had to be there, but I appreciated it anyway)
In the early 70s, Seamus and Lizzie came to stay with us in Bounds Green Road and I remember spending a whole afternoon entertaining them with a lengthy but banging DJ Set of all of Dad's Nana Mouskouri singles (and he had a few I can tell you), finished off with 'The Black Velvet Band' (the only Irish single I remember we had at the time) played at the wrong speed for comedy effect (there could be an act in there somewhere - mental note to contact 'Britain's Got Talent')
The last time I had the pleasure of a few days in his company was back in 1990, my second visit to Co Antrim and this time with my new bride (Ana) who I wanted to show Dad's side of the family (I had been taken to Spain the previous year to meet Ana's equally huge Spanish side of the family) It was only a little over a year since Dad had died and when Uncle Seamus arrived at one of the many big gatherings that were held in our honour, it was heartbreaking to see how much like Dad he was, in his looks, his mannerisms, even the way he stood; on the sidelines, hand on chin, nodding in silent approval to himself at the fine gathering of family around him. Towards the end of our stay, Seamus and Lizzie took us on a whirlwind tour of all their (now grown up) offspring with all their own families, and a full works chinese meal in Antrim town. Seamus was even then quite hard of hearing, added to which there was a band march happening outside, so conversation was limited because he couldn't hear a thing anyway. I remember being quite happy just to sit and watch him, a good and dignified man, just like Dad and all his brothers.
That's my own little personal tribute to Uncle Seamus. May he rest in peace.
I have a few memories of Uncle Seamus, so I thought I would put them in my blog by way of a humble tribute.
I first met him on one of only two visits I have made in my lifetime to Dad's homeland of Co Antrim in Northern Ireland. We went as a family (with the exception of new born Matt, who we left home alone - just kidding of course - he stayed with a friend of Mum's who was apparently dying to look after him - which was fine by me, because I still hadn't got quite used to the competition) in the summer of 1969, when I was 4 years old. We saw a lot of Seamus and Lizzie and their own kids at that time were in their teens and early twenties I think. He drove a VW Beetle, and I dropped a Double 99 ice cream cone on his shoes whilst legging it back a little too excited from the ice cream van on the beach at Cushendal. He had a great 'knee bouncing' technique (rather like Dad) and coined my official Irish nick-name, 'Colin Glen Sausages' (look, I was 4 ok, and maybe you had to be there, but I appreciated it anyway)
In the early 70s, Seamus and Lizzie came to stay with us in Bounds Green Road and I remember spending a whole afternoon entertaining them with a lengthy but banging DJ Set of all of Dad's Nana Mouskouri singles (and he had a few I can tell you), finished off with 'The Black Velvet Band' (the only Irish single I remember we had at the time) played at the wrong speed for comedy effect (there could be an act in there somewhere - mental note to contact 'Britain's Got Talent')
The last time I had the pleasure of a few days in his company was back in 1990, my second visit to Co Antrim and this time with my new bride (Ana) who I wanted to show Dad's side of the family (I had been taken to Spain the previous year to meet Ana's equally huge Spanish side of the family) It was only a little over a year since Dad had died and when Uncle Seamus arrived at one of the many big gatherings that were held in our honour, it was heartbreaking to see how much like Dad he was, in his looks, his mannerisms, even the way he stood; on the sidelines, hand on chin, nodding in silent approval to himself at the fine gathering of family around him. Towards the end of our stay, Seamus and Lizzie took us on a whirlwind tour of all their (now grown up) offspring with all their own families, and a full works chinese meal in Antrim town. Seamus was even then quite hard of hearing, added to which there was a band march happening outside, so conversation was limited because he couldn't hear a thing anyway. I remember being quite happy just to sit and watch him, a good and dignified man, just like Dad and all his brothers.
That's my own little personal tribute to Uncle Seamus. May he rest in peace.
Thursday 18 February 2010
A Couple Of Hammer 'Dracula' Movies Revisited...
Last night (for want of something better to do) I watched ‘Brides Of Dracula’ and ‘Dracula Prince Of Darkness’ back to back. I honestly don’t think I have watched either of those in the last 30 odd years and I have no idea why I was suddenly struck with the desire for a ‘Hammer Double Bill’ but there you go.
Although ‘Brides’ has no Dracula, and therefore no Christopher Lee, I think it is by far the better of the two. Baron Meinster (David Peel) at least has some dialogue and a bit of character development (as opposed to Lee hissing a few times and having a dreadful girly fight with the hero of ‘Prince’) and of course Cushing is excellent as Van Helsing. There are some terrific characters in ‘Brides’ too, the super camp Baroness, the hypochondriac, money obsessed doctor and the completely barking Freda too, as well as the overtones of incest and homo eroticism (Meinster is not fussy about sinking his fangs into his own Mum, or indeed Cushing) lacking in other movies of the franchise. That’s not to say he isn’t averse to also infiltrating the gothic equivalent of a ‘Carry On Camping’ style all girls school to spread his wickedness and even proposing marriage to the sauce pot French heroine who was silly enough to release him in the first place. Even the ridiculous plot padding in ‘Brides’ is amusing and enjoyable (the Innkeepers speech about how ‘my horse brasses remind me of the different seasons of the year’ – excellent stuff) and it has a superb ending too, so the crap rubber bats earlier in the film can be excused on this occasion.
Prince of Darkness is OK I suppose, but takes bloody ages to get going. The non speaking, hissing, girly fighting Lee is probably on screen for a total of about 15 minutes and the Victorian Yuppy types who visit the castle invite no sympathy whatsoever. Most annoying of all is the old ‘quick it’s getting dark now’ routine when it is clearly still broad daylight (I know this was because of budget constraints, but is really is dreadful) Lee (so menacing, not to mention quick on his feet in the original Hammer ‘Dracula’) fannies around waving his arms about on the ice (in the bloody broad daylight!) and that’s about it.
It’s not all bad though, Father Sandor makes for an entertaining Van Helsing replacement (and gives an excellent speech about the pleasure of warming one’s arse in front of the fire) and there is a fine cameo by the ever reliable*** Thorley Walters.
Anyhow, I enjoyed both movies enough to want more, so it looks like I’m going to have a plod through the whole Hammer ‘Dracula’ franchise. Prepare therefore for more razor sharp critique in the near future……………………………….if you read Empire magazine, otherwise look out for more of my Drac related babbling.
*** Except perhaps for his (apparently half cut and not having troubled to learn his lines) Police Inspector in ‘Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed’ of course.
Although ‘Brides’ has no Dracula, and therefore no Christopher Lee, I think it is by far the better of the two. Baron Meinster (David Peel) at least has some dialogue and a bit of character development (as opposed to Lee hissing a few times and having a dreadful girly fight with the hero of ‘Prince’) and of course Cushing is excellent as Van Helsing. There are some terrific characters in ‘Brides’ too, the super camp Baroness, the hypochondriac, money obsessed doctor and the completely barking Freda too, as well as the overtones of incest and homo eroticism (Meinster is not fussy about sinking his fangs into his own Mum, or indeed Cushing) lacking in other movies of the franchise. That’s not to say he isn’t averse to also infiltrating the gothic equivalent of a ‘Carry On Camping’ style all girls school to spread his wickedness and even proposing marriage to the sauce pot French heroine who was silly enough to release him in the first place. Even the ridiculous plot padding in ‘Brides’ is amusing and enjoyable (the Innkeepers speech about how ‘my horse brasses remind me of the different seasons of the year’ – excellent stuff) and it has a superb ending too, so the crap rubber bats earlier in the film can be excused on this occasion.
Prince of Darkness is OK I suppose, but takes bloody ages to get going. The non speaking, hissing, girly fighting Lee is probably on screen for a total of about 15 minutes and the Victorian Yuppy types who visit the castle invite no sympathy whatsoever. Most annoying of all is the old ‘quick it’s getting dark now’ routine when it is clearly still broad daylight (I know this was because of budget constraints, but is really is dreadful) Lee (so menacing, not to mention quick on his feet in the original Hammer ‘Dracula’) fannies around waving his arms about on the ice (in the bloody broad daylight!) and that’s about it.
It’s not all bad though, Father Sandor makes for an entertaining Van Helsing replacement (and gives an excellent speech about the pleasure of warming one’s arse in front of the fire) and there is a fine cameo by the ever reliable*** Thorley Walters.
Anyhow, I enjoyed both movies enough to want more, so it looks like I’m going to have a plod through the whole Hammer ‘Dracula’ franchise. Prepare therefore for more razor sharp critique in the near future……………………………….if you read Empire magazine, otherwise look out for more of my Drac related babbling.
*** Except perhaps for his (apparently half cut and not having troubled to learn his lines) Police Inspector in ‘Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed’ of course.
Wednesday 17 February 2010
To My Old Friends (and How I'm Shit At Fantasy Footie)
This season my 'Fantasy Premier League' team has been a disaster, simply because I could not leave the team alone. I have been the kiss of death to the form of many a player this season in my quest for points, using up my weekly transfer allocation greedily, and often losing points for additional transfers, but nearly always too late. The prime example seems to be Jermaine Defoe; he stuck five past Wigan in an incredible 9-1 victory (which considering Spurs' current form seems like an eternity ago) so of course I signed him at the expense of Adebayor and made him Captain too. How many league goals has he scored since? He's probably missed more penalties than scored goals. Clint Dempsey - on a brilliant run of form for Fulham pre Christmas, so I sign him and sure enough he's crocked probably for the rest of the season. These are just two examples misguided errors of judgement I have made week in and week out. Like the scab on your knee after falling over as a kid, heed the advice - leave it alone and it will get better quicker, but I just had to keep fiddling........................
So if there is a player you would like to see have a sudden dip in form (I'm not going to say 'or you would like to see injured' because that's just plain wrong) let me know and for a small fee I could arrange for him to ruin his career by means of a 'virtual' stint with the phenomenally bad 'Tweets And Twinchers'
Far more successful has been my management of Deportivo (my late Spanish Grandad-In-Law's favourite team) in 'Soccer Manager' (you've guessed it, another online, free to play management game) I took the club over 7 games into last season (a season lasts about half the length of the normal 'real life' season with two games per week) when they were rock bottom with 2 points from 7 games. I sold a few duffers, signed Crouch, Felipe Melo and Von Bronkhorst (to name but a few) and turned things round to the extent that they missed out on a play-off spot by a goal difference of 1!
The new season starts on Sunday and the virtual message board tells me that my chairman expects promotion this season. I'll see what I can do.................
As if that wasn't enough, I have taken on a second 'Soccer Manager' club, Brighton and Hove Albion, who incidentally are 'playing' as I write this so I must scarper.
I just want to say that my involvement in these games (all thanks to the persuasive skills of my fine friend The Prof) has been a great way of keeping in touch with a whole load of great friends and colleagues who were once a very major part of my life, and even if it is just the occasional 'I'll whup your arse in the replay' sent via private message(which is no subsitute to the few pints and nappy night at Empire like in the old days), at least it's some contact and that's always better than none.
Aaaah - good old days with good old boys.
Col
So if there is a player you would like to see have a sudden dip in form (I'm not going to say 'or you would like to see injured' because that's just plain wrong) let me know and for a small fee I could arrange for him to ruin his career by means of a 'virtual' stint with the phenomenally bad 'Tweets And Twinchers'
Far more successful has been my management of Deportivo (my late Spanish Grandad-In-Law's favourite team) in 'Soccer Manager' (you've guessed it, another online, free to play management game) I took the club over 7 games into last season (a season lasts about half the length of the normal 'real life' season with two games per week) when they were rock bottom with 2 points from 7 games. I sold a few duffers, signed Crouch, Felipe Melo and Von Bronkhorst (to name but a few) and turned things round to the extent that they missed out on a play-off spot by a goal difference of 1!
The new season starts on Sunday and the virtual message board tells me that my chairman expects promotion this season. I'll see what I can do.................
As if that wasn't enough, I have taken on a second 'Soccer Manager' club, Brighton and Hove Albion, who incidentally are 'playing' as I write this so I must scarper.
I just want to say that my involvement in these games (all thanks to the persuasive skills of my fine friend The Prof) has been a great way of keeping in touch with a whole load of great friends and colleagues who were once a very major part of my life, and even if it is just the occasional 'I'll whup your arse in the replay' sent via private message(which is no subsitute to the few pints and nappy night at Empire like in the old days), at least it's some contact and that's always better than none.
Aaaah - good old days with good old boys.
Col
Friday 12 February 2010
Gothic Ghost and Horror Fiction (WhhhooooooOO!)
For just about as long as I have been able to read I have always loved 'scary' fiction; ghost, horror, the supernatural, I'll read it. I am working on a blog article / series about the legendary 'Pan Book Of Horror Stories' so I won't go on about them now, other than to say that when I was an impressionable youngster, I favoured the trahsy 'torture porn' and anatomical horror of the later 'Pans' which was far more blatant and a quicker fix than the subtle horrors of the classic gothic tales. These I found a bit of a bore simply because they took a little effort to read, and besides, some poor put upon doormat of a bloke wasn't chopping his nagging wife into little pieces halfway through the second page (I'm thinking directly of a story called 'Case Of Insanity' in Pan Vol 11 by the way - just shows how they stick in my mind)
My interest in the classic 'gothic' tales by Le Fanu, M R James, Stoker, Bierce, etc etc etc has been revived in adult life by the excellent Vault Of Evil website, where there is a wealth of information and synopses of Victorian, Edwardian and Pre-War horror fiction (thats only a small part of the site - you are equally welcome to read about - or chat on the boards about - 'Rubbish Movie Monsters' if you want to) I have written some stuff for Vault myself; I did a few 'Pan Horror' reviews on there last year.
I have learned from my recent renewed acquaintance with Vault that the excellent 'Wordsworth' (responsible for publishing a huge and good quality budget priced range of 'The Classics' in the early 1990s) have for the past couple of years been publishing a (huge and good quality) range called 'Wordsworth Mystery & The Supernatural' a comprehensive collection of gothic horror fiction both well known and obscure. And of course because it's Wordsworth, the books look excellent and are an absolute bargain at just £2 or £3 a throw.
So naturally enough I got straight on to Amazon this evening (I can afford a grand total of ONE book!) and have spent ages trawling through the 65 titles currently available, finally settling on the excellent sounding 'Gothic Short Stories' - the first of many I'm sure.
(I have just read back what I have written so far this evening, and to be quite frank, if this was someone else's blog that I was reading I would be thinking 'get a life you sad freak, so you bought a sodding ghost book for two quid and you're wetting your knickers with excitement, and you spend ages on a nerdy-arsed horror site - Great! all the more reason to hit 'publish post' immediately without editing.....)
But before I do, let me just recommend what is to me the best and scariest 'gothic' horror story I have read; it's called 'The Judges House' by Bram Stoker and it's a genuinely unsettling tale. I've got a copy you can borrow if you're interested (sorry I'm now subconciously writing direct to my brother Brian who I know reads my blog, that's if you didn't give up with sheer boredom weeks ago) or you can go here;
http://www.online-literature.com/stoker/820/
(That's not a link to 'Vault Of Evil' by the way!
More to follow
Col
My interest in the classic 'gothic' tales by Le Fanu, M R James, Stoker, Bierce, etc etc etc has been revived in adult life by the excellent Vault Of Evil website, where there is a wealth of information and synopses of Victorian, Edwardian and Pre-War horror fiction (thats only a small part of the site - you are equally welcome to read about - or chat on the boards about - 'Rubbish Movie Monsters' if you want to) I have written some stuff for Vault myself; I did a few 'Pan Horror' reviews on there last year.
I have learned from my recent renewed acquaintance with Vault that the excellent 'Wordsworth' (responsible for publishing a huge and good quality budget priced range of 'The Classics' in the early 1990s) have for the past couple of years been publishing a (huge and good quality) range called 'Wordsworth Mystery & The Supernatural' a comprehensive collection of gothic horror fiction both well known and obscure. And of course because it's Wordsworth, the books look excellent and are an absolute bargain at just £2 or £3 a throw.
So naturally enough I got straight on to Amazon this evening (I can afford a grand total of ONE book!) and have spent ages trawling through the 65 titles currently available, finally settling on the excellent sounding 'Gothic Short Stories' - the first of many I'm sure.
(I have just read back what I have written so far this evening, and to be quite frank, if this was someone else's blog that I was reading I would be thinking 'get a life you sad freak, so you bought a sodding ghost book for two quid and you're wetting your knickers with excitement, and you spend ages on a nerdy-arsed horror site - Great! all the more reason to hit 'publish post' immediately without editing.....)
But before I do, let me just recommend what is to me the best and scariest 'gothic' horror story I have read; it's called 'The Judges House' by Bram Stoker and it's a genuinely unsettling tale. I've got a copy you can borrow if you're interested (sorry I'm now subconciously writing direct to my brother Brian who I know reads my blog, that's if you didn't give up with sheer boredom weeks ago) or you can go here;
http://www.online-literature.com/stoker/820/
(That's not a link to 'Vault Of Evil' by the way!
More to follow
Col
Wednesday 10 February 2010
Random Rants and A Child Spooked
Not a good night on the footy front, especially if you are a Spurs fan (guilty) and have recently taken over as manager of Brighton & Hove Albion in the highly addictive online Soccer Manager game (yep, that'll be me too)
Spurs are mediocre once more - all the promise of the early season seems like an eternity ago as they go down 0-1 to Wolves for the second time in a couple of months.
As for Virtual Brighton, it's now three games in charge and three losses, despite having snapped up Keiran Dyer and Stephen Carr (come on they're not that old) as free agents.
Just putting my head round the door tonight really - I have loads of blogs in progress but nothing else ready. And there are distractions too; Soccer Manager for a start, plus I am renewing my acquaintance after a lengthy break with the good people on the boards at Vault Of Evil, an excellent site devoted to ghost and horror fiction, movies and TV, past and present. It's especially good on books and there are many like minded souls on there happy to chat away about anything from classic B&W Brit Sci-Fi to what was the scariest thing you saw on telly as a kid. Which leads me to this, my main entry for today, and I'm going to cheat by copying here a little thing I wrote on Vault yesterday; The most scared I have been by anything on TV ever was a public information film from the mid 70s for the 'Keep Matches Away From Children' campaign. What made matters worse it was shown on ITV during ad breaks so there was no "there now follows a public information film" warning to give me time to leg it outof the room. I was cheerfully drinking a cocoa and watching 'Within These Walls' one Saturday night in '75, when suddenly this came along and ruined my childhood!
I was only 10 at the time, and I certainly learned my lesson; after seeing this I made sure that from then on I always lit my crack pipe from the gas stove.............
Here is a link (make sure you have the sound up too)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h2I6qF6Tz_k
but if that doesn't work then go onto you tube and search 'Keep Matches Away From Children'
This still scares the shit out of me now - especially the wardrobe bit at the end........................................................
More to follow
Col
Spurs are mediocre once more - all the promise of the early season seems like an eternity ago as they go down 0-1 to Wolves for the second time in a couple of months.
As for Virtual Brighton, it's now three games in charge and three losses, despite having snapped up Keiran Dyer and Stephen Carr (come on they're not that old) as free agents.
Just putting my head round the door tonight really - I have loads of blogs in progress but nothing else ready. And there are distractions too; Soccer Manager for a start, plus I am renewing my acquaintance after a lengthy break with the good people on the boards at Vault Of Evil, an excellent site devoted to ghost and horror fiction, movies and TV, past and present. It's especially good on books and there are many like minded souls on there happy to chat away about anything from classic B&W Brit Sci-Fi to what was the scariest thing you saw on telly as a kid. Which leads me to this, my main entry for today, and I'm going to cheat by copying here a little thing I wrote on Vault yesterday; The most scared I have been by anything on TV ever was a public information film from the mid 70s for the 'Keep Matches Away From Children' campaign. What made matters worse it was shown on ITV during ad breaks so there was no "there now follows a public information film" warning to give me time to leg it outof the room. I was cheerfully drinking a cocoa and watching 'Within These Walls' one Saturday night in '75, when suddenly this came along and ruined my childhood!
I was only 10 at the time, and I certainly learned my lesson; after seeing this I made sure that from then on I always lit my crack pipe from the gas stove.............
Here is a link (make sure you have the sound up too)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h2I6qF6Tz_k
but if that doesn't work then go onto you tube and search 'Keep Matches Away From Children'
This still scares the shit out of me now - especially the wardrobe bit at the end........................................................
More to follow
Col
Monday 8 February 2010
Look, I'm no Barry Norman, but.........
Just a quick round up of some films watched since last blog with marks out of ten too!
The Fly (1958)
Still miles better than the 1986 Jeff Goldblum ‘remake’ which tried to be far too clever for it’s own good, the 1958 original is good old fashioned late 50s Sci Fi / Horror fun. Vincent Price is the (very camp) good guy, although of course he makes a far superior (very camp) bad guy – he would have been better cast as the ambitious but unfortunate scientist who ends up with the arm and head of a fly after a mix up in his transportation device. The movie is well over half way through before anything remotely ‘scary’ happens, but the build up is still entertaining and it’s a great looking film, in glorious, totally unreal technicolor. Famous for the multi faceted ‘fly’s eye view’ of his screaming wife, and the “help me!” scene at the end (which apparently had to be shot umpteen times because Price couldn’t stop pissing himself laughing), this is a thoroughly enjoyable Sunday afternoon lazy movie. (6/10)
The Third Man (1949)
Ahem - A 'British Classic' nonetheless.I attempted The Third Man one night years ago after a hefty session at the pub, but was comatose half way through (a result of the quantity of the beer not the quality of the movie) It was also shown on at 23.45 on the night of Saturday 21st May 1994, which just happened to also be the date and time my beloved eldest was born - good enough reason for missing it then too. Beer and Babies eh? So this was the first time I've actually sat and watched it all the way through.
It’s an excellent take on the end of WWII from a different perspective (in this case occupied Austria) filled with strange, idiosyncratic characters and off kilter, dreamlike scenarios. Although it’s no great shock that the ruthless but charming Harry Lime (Orson Welles) is not dead after all, the revelations about the horrendous consequences of Lime’s racketeering (and his famous speech about the ‘little dots below’ during the scene on the big wheel) are stirring stuff. There is enough suspense, mystery, dirty dealing and danger to make this a great story in its own right, let alone the top-notch moody atmospherics and a terrific performance by the entire cast. (9/10)
District 9 (2009)
Bang up to date with this one, for a change. A Peter ‘Lord Of The Rings’ Jackson production, and closer in some ways to his earlier projects (low budget ‘splatter’ movies such as ‘Braindead’ and ‘Bad Taste’)
A tale of a race of aliens who (almost) crash landed on Earth in the 1980s and for twenty years have been given asylum by being allowed to ‘live’ in a shanty town in Johanesburg. Much of the film (especially the first half) comprises mock documentary, news reports and ‘fly on the wall’ style filming, as the tale of Wikus (the central character and to some extent the ultimate hero of the story, a bureaucratic nonentity at first who, like everyone else, demeans and exploits the alien race – known as ‘The Prawn’ – but soon learns to empathise with them after he – in a nutshell - starts to turn into a ‘Prawn’ himself, following contact with a liquid the aliens are secretly developing) unfolds.
This is an entertaining and highly original Sci Fi action movie (the South Africa setting itself is out of the ordinary - no Bruce Willis here to kick butt, or Morgan Freeman as the President) and if you approach it expecting no more, then you should enjoy it for the hokum it is. The references to social issues (many of them particularly close to home in South Africa) for example apartheid, exploitation of the poor by shadowy corporations and the racketeering, gun running and gang culture of the impoverished townships are thinly veiled, but then a good action movie was never supposed to be too thought provoking. (7/10)
Just a few movie reviews today, but there is of course
More to follow
Col
The Fly (1958)
Still miles better than the 1986 Jeff Goldblum ‘remake’ which tried to be far too clever for it’s own good, the 1958 original is good old fashioned late 50s Sci Fi / Horror fun. Vincent Price is the (very camp) good guy, although of course he makes a far superior (very camp) bad guy – he would have been better cast as the ambitious but unfortunate scientist who ends up with the arm and head of a fly after a mix up in his transportation device. The movie is well over half way through before anything remotely ‘scary’ happens, but the build up is still entertaining and it’s a great looking film, in glorious, totally unreal technicolor. Famous for the multi faceted ‘fly’s eye view’ of his screaming wife, and the “help me!” scene at the end (which apparently had to be shot umpteen times because Price couldn’t stop pissing himself laughing), this is a thoroughly enjoyable Sunday afternoon lazy movie. (6/10)
The Third Man (1949)
Ahem - A 'British Classic' nonetheless.I attempted The Third Man one night years ago after a hefty session at the pub, but was comatose half way through (a result of the quantity of the beer not the quality of the movie) It was also shown on at 23.45 on the night of Saturday 21st May 1994, which just happened to also be the date and time my beloved eldest was born - good enough reason for missing it then too. Beer and Babies eh? So this was the first time I've actually sat and watched it all the way through.
It’s an excellent take on the end of WWII from a different perspective (in this case occupied Austria) filled with strange, idiosyncratic characters and off kilter, dreamlike scenarios. Although it’s no great shock that the ruthless but charming Harry Lime (Orson Welles) is not dead after all, the revelations about the horrendous consequences of Lime’s racketeering (and his famous speech about the ‘little dots below’ during the scene on the big wheel) are stirring stuff. There is enough suspense, mystery, dirty dealing and danger to make this a great story in its own right, let alone the top-notch moody atmospherics and a terrific performance by the entire cast. (9/10)
District 9 (2009)
Bang up to date with this one, for a change. A Peter ‘Lord Of The Rings’ Jackson production, and closer in some ways to his earlier projects (low budget ‘splatter’ movies such as ‘Braindead’ and ‘Bad Taste’)
A tale of a race of aliens who (almost) crash landed on Earth in the 1980s and for twenty years have been given asylum by being allowed to ‘live’ in a shanty town in Johanesburg. Much of the film (especially the first half) comprises mock documentary, news reports and ‘fly on the wall’ style filming, as the tale of Wikus (the central character and to some extent the ultimate hero of the story, a bureaucratic nonentity at first who, like everyone else, demeans and exploits the alien race – known as ‘The Prawn’ – but soon learns to empathise with them after he – in a nutshell - starts to turn into a ‘Prawn’ himself, following contact with a liquid the aliens are secretly developing) unfolds.
This is an entertaining and highly original Sci Fi action movie (the South Africa setting itself is out of the ordinary - no Bruce Willis here to kick butt, or Morgan Freeman as the President) and if you approach it expecting no more, then you should enjoy it for the hokum it is. The references to social issues (many of them particularly close to home in South Africa) for example apartheid, exploitation of the poor by shadowy corporations and the racketeering, gun running and gang culture of the impoverished townships are thinly veiled, but then a good action movie was never supposed to be too thought provoking. (7/10)
Just a few movie reviews today, but there is of course
More to follow
Col
Wednesday 3 February 2010
Footie, Gorgeous Birds and (errrm) an Inexpensive CD
Haven't got around to blogging since the weekend so here are a few things I have been up to so far this week
A top notch footie film
I did watch ‘The Damned United’ after my last blog entry on Sunday evening. Excellent film. Michael Sheen is as good an impressionist as he is an actor, having already managed to get Kenneth Williams, Tony Blair and David Frost down to a tee, his portrayal of Brian Clough is superb and totally believable. Timothy Spall and Colm Meaney are equally effective and convincing as Peter Taylor and Don Revie respectively. Despite the protestations of the Clough family as to factual accuracy, much of the subject matter is knowingly fiction based around fact, and whether 100% accurate or not, it’s a compelling and moving story of football in England in an era when the monolith money machine that is football in the 21st Century would have seemed like a ridiculous vision of things to come (memorable line from the film? – “You don’t pay a footballer three hundred quid a week!”)
I only vaguely remember the era concerned (the films flits between 1967 – 1974 and jumps from past to present regularly) in terms of football at least; a time of listening to the results coming in on local radio on a Saturday afternoon, Spurs nearly always losing and eating Sunday dinner with ‘The Big Match’ on in the background, trying to get the last roast potato down quickly so I could claim a good spot on the sofa for ‘Randall and Hopkirk Deceased’
The turbulent mix of Clough’s ego, arrogance and personal agendae, with the rough, aggressive and Revie loyal Leeds players is what led to Clough’s failure in his brief stint as Leeds manager – the central plot device here.
Thankfully there are very few scenes of actors trying to look like they are in a 1970s football match, as real contemporary game footage is used. Even Steven ‘Tommy from Snatch’ Graham - in a curly ginger wig and dodgy Scottish accent – as Billy Bremner can be forgiven in what is an absorbing human drama. Highly recommended. I also caught up with my brother Dave last night for a long overdue half hour on the phone. Dave is (as he predicted) turning slowly into Ronnie Wood, and may he be all the happier for it.
I can always share with Dave anything I get up to that I might lump under the tedious ‘mid life crisis’ banner, and be safe in the comforting knowledge that he will have been there, done that and bought the proverbial t-shirt already. Last night’s conversation led to my confession that my youngest daughter Hayley had nobbled me sorting out my ‘fittie folder’ of photos on the PC at home. Now I must make it clear that the ‘fittie folder’ is in very good taste – no swimwear and boob jobs from ‘Nuts’ magazine, it is merely a collection of (mostly just the face) photos of my own personal all time most fanciable famous women.
Hayley knows her harmless and deluded old Dad well enough (and she’s also old enough now to know that just because Dad has a photo or two of Laura Aikman, that doesn’t mean he is about to leave the family and set up a love nest with her – sorry Laura, but that’s the way it has to be) and, having rumbled me, gave her usual resigned sigh and a mock admonishing “Daaa-aa-aaaad”, before launching into a bit of constructive criticism and even going so far as to encourage me to go back onto google image for a better photo in some cases. I was grateful too for her occasional “ooooer, not her, she’s well rough” just to keep my feet on the ground – it’s all a matter of personal taste you know!
I am working on a blog in which I reveal the content of the ‘fittie folder’ with a bit about how each of the lucky entrants came to have a balding middle aged bloke from Milton Keynes carry a torch for them. I’m sure OK Magazine can barely contain their excitement……….
Splashed out on a bit of ‘The Disney’ on CD
I stopped buying CDs on a regular basis 4 maybe 5 years ago for financial reasons, the pain of which has been eased by the advent of downloading. Having said that it does make a very occasional purchase all the more exciting. Spurred on by recently writing a blog entry about the very excellent Microdisney, I decided to treat myself to ‘Daunt Square To Elsewhere’ a 28 track double CD career spanning anthology drawn from the four albums they released (and the ‘In The World’ EP) all for only £4.00 from Amazon.
As I mentioned last time, none of their albums are currently available on CD (although I did manage to track down two of them over the last ten years) so it has been great to be able to listen to at least some of their music again that has languished upstairs with the rest of the vinyl for years now, waiting for the day I could afford a decent record player again. Whether she liked it or not at the time, I courted my wife to the music of Microdisney (their ‘Are You Happy’ is definitely on of ‘our tunes’) and was surprised at how much of the stuff on ‘Daunt Square’ she recognised. I have been playing it in the mornings whilst all the early morning feminine chaos of my little family happens around me, and was more than chuffed last night when (the ever reliable) Hayley came up to me and said ‘whatever that was you were playing this morning, it’s brilliant’ so for all the right reasons, I may well have lost the CD already.
So that’s it for now except to say that the next time I feel like treating myself to a CD it is going to be by Francoise Hardy as I feel that my recent enjoyment of some Serge Gainsbourg music should lead me into a ‘1960s French Pop’ phase. Besides, Francoise is far better looking than sleazy old Serge, so good looking in fact that a quite remarkable picture of her (circa 1966) which I will put a link to if I can work out how - has pride of place in my ‘fittie folder’ – which kind of brings us full circle (although thankfully not via sweaty 70s football hard men in ginger wigs) and is a good place to wrap this up for today.
More to follow
Col
A top notch footie film
I did watch ‘The Damned United’ after my last blog entry on Sunday evening. Excellent film. Michael Sheen is as good an impressionist as he is an actor, having already managed to get Kenneth Williams, Tony Blair and David Frost down to a tee, his portrayal of Brian Clough is superb and totally believable. Timothy Spall and Colm Meaney are equally effective and convincing as Peter Taylor and Don Revie respectively. Despite the protestations of the Clough family as to factual accuracy, much of the subject matter is knowingly fiction based around fact, and whether 100% accurate or not, it’s a compelling and moving story of football in England in an era when the monolith money machine that is football in the 21st Century would have seemed like a ridiculous vision of things to come (memorable line from the film? – “You don’t pay a footballer three hundred quid a week!”)
I only vaguely remember the era concerned (the films flits between 1967 – 1974 and jumps from past to present regularly) in terms of football at least; a time of listening to the results coming in on local radio on a Saturday afternoon, Spurs nearly always losing and eating Sunday dinner with ‘The Big Match’ on in the background, trying to get the last roast potato down quickly so I could claim a good spot on the sofa for ‘Randall and Hopkirk Deceased’
The turbulent mix of Clough’s ego, arrogance and personal agendae, with the rough, aggressive and Revie loyal Leeds players is what led to Clough’s failure in his brief stint as Leeds manager – the central plot device here.
Thankfully there are very few scenes of actors trying to look like they are in a 1970s football match, as real contemporary game footage is used. Even Steven ‘Tommy from Snatch’ Graham - in a curly ginger wig and dodgy Scottish accent – as Billy Bremner can be forgiven in what is an absorbing human drama. Highly recommended. I also caught up with my brother Dave last night for a long overdue half hour on the phone. Dave is (as he predicted) turning slowly into Ronnie Wood, and may he be all the happier for it.
I can always share with Dave anything I get up to that I might lump under the tedious ‘mid life crisis’ banner, and be safe in the comforting knowledge that he will have been there, done that and bought the proverbial t-shirt already. Last night’s conversation led to my confession that my youngest daughter Hayley had nobbled me sorting out my ‘fittie folder’ of photos on the PC at home. Now I must make it clear that the ‘fittie folder’ is in very good taste – no swimwear and boob jobs from ‘Nuts’ magazine, it is merely a collection of (mostly just the face) photos of my own personal all time most fanciable famous women.
Hayley knows her harmless and deluded old Dad well enough (and she’s also old enough now to know that just because Dad has a photo or two of Laura Aikman, that doesn’t mean he is about to leave the family and set up a love nest with her – sorry Laura, but that’s the way it has to be) and, having rumbled me, gave her usual resigned sigh and a mock admonishing “Daaa-aa-aaaad”, before launching into a bit of constructive criticism and even going so far as to encourage me to go back onto google image for a better photo in some cases. I was grateful too for her occasional “ooooer, not her, she’s well rough” just to keep my feet on the ground – it’s all a matter of personal taste you know!
I am working on a blog in which I reveal the content of the ‘fittie folder’ with a bit about how each of the lucky entrants came to have a balding middle aged bloke from Milton Keynes carry a torch for them. I’m sure OK Magazine can barely contain their excitement……….
Splashed out on a bit of ‘The Disney’ on CD
I stopped buying CDs on a regular basis 4 maybe 5 years ago for financial reasons, the pain of which has been eased by the advent of downloading. Having said that it does make a very occasional purchase all the more exciting. Spurred on by recently writing a blog entry about the very excellent Microdisney, I decided to treat myself to ‘Daunt Square To Elsewhere’ a 28 track double CD career spanning anthology drawn from the four albums they released (and the ‘In The World’ EP) all for only £4.00 from Amazon.
As I mentioned last time, none of their albums are currently available on CD (although I did manage to track down two of them over the last ten years) so it has been great to be able to listen to at least some of their music again that has languished upstairs with the rest of the vinyl for years now, waiting for the day I could afford a decent record player again. Whether she liked it or not at the time, I courted my wife to the music of Microdisney (their ‘Are You Happy’ is definitely on of ‘our tunes’) and was surprised at how much of the stuff on ‘Daunt Square’ she recognised. I have been playing it in the mornings whilst all the early morning feminine chaos of my little family happens around me, and was more than chuffed last night when (the ever reliable) Hayley came up to me and said ‘whatever that was you were playing this morning, it’s brilliant’ so for all the right reasons, I may well have lost the CD already.
So that’s it for now except to say that the next time I feel like treating myself to a CD it is going to be by Francoise Hardy as I feel that my recent enjoyment of some Serge Gainsbourg music should lead me into a ‘1960s French Pop’ phase. Besides, Francoise is far better looking than sleazy old Serge, so good looking in fact that a quite remarkable picture of her (circa 1966) which I will put a link to if I can work out how - has pride of place in my ‘fittie folder’ – which kind of brings us full circle (although thankfully not via sweaty 70s football hard men in ginger wigs) and is a good place to wrap this up for today.
More to follow
Col
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