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Issue: 133
Art Fashion Film Internet Music Television
Memoirs of a Geisha Reviewed and Discussed Inside... Where the Truth Lies Lost Diversify
Contents Features
TV Â 8
TV Â 9
-PTU 0OF PG UIF CJHHFTU TIPXT UIJT ZFBS JT DPNJOH UP BO FOE
Film  15  &  16 .FNPJST PG B (FJTIB 4FU UP CF UIF IPUUFTU mMN PG UIF TFBTPO 8IFSF UIF 5SVUI -JFT 5IF &WFOU FYBNJOFT UIJT OPJS NZTUFSZ
Music  11 +PIO -FOOPO ZFBST BGUFS IJT EFBUI UIF #FBUMF T MFHBDZ MJWFT PO
Art  6
%JWFSTJGZ 8F IBWF B MPPL BU %SBNB4PD T ZFBSMZ TIJOEJH
Fashion  4  &  5
)BSSZ )JMM 3PVOE UIF 5XJTU PO %7% .PSTF BOE PG DPVSTF TPBQZ TVET
Art  7 4BUVSEBZ /JHIU 'FWFS BU 5IFBUSF 3PZBM $IVDL 1BMBIOJVL BOE %POOB 5BSU
Film  14,  17  &  18
%PPN 5IF )JEEFO #MBEF $SBTI UIF PSJHJOBM ,JOH ,POH 5IF &YPSDJTN PG &NJMZ 3PTF BOE QMFOUZ NPSF
Music  12  &  13
5IF 4VCXBZT %FQFDIF .PEF 0BTJT BOE 4UBSTBJMPS
$ISJTUNBT $IJD )PX UP LFFQ ZPVS FGGPSUMFTT TUZMF JO UIF GFTUJWF TFBTPO
Regulars
Reviews
Internet  19
(FU QSJNBM XJUI XXX (PSJMMB[ DPN
Creative  Writing  10 Listings  13
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Hello It’s  that  time  of  year  again,  where  all  of  us  in  the  Concrete  ofďŹ ce  work  our  last  late  night  of  the  year  and  put  our  feet  up  for  a  few  weeks,  drinking  plenty  of  brandy  and  wolďŹ ng  down  many  a  mince  pie.  Yes,  thats  right,  Christmas  is  almost  upon  us  and  you’ll  all  have  to  get  by  without  your  regular  dose  of  The  Event.  However,  your  trusty  copy  of  The  Event  can  still  be  useful  to  you  throughout  the  festive  season.  If  after  buy- ing  wonderful  presents  for  all  your  nearest  and  dearest  you Â ďŹ nd  that  you’ve  forgotten  to  buy  any  wrapping  paper,  never  fear!  Simply  take  this  copy  of  The  Event  and  show  that  you  can  be  as  resourceful  as  you  are  generous  by  wrapping  your  gifts  in  its  pages.  You  may  notice  that  we’ve  decided  to  keep  the  old  decora- tions  to  a  minimum  this  year.  After  all,  its  a  common  mis- take  to  turn  the  Christmas  volume  up  to  eleven  and  then  all  sense  of  what’s  tasteful  just  goes  straight  out  the  window  in  a  urry  of  fake  trees  and  tinsel.  So,  to  keep  things  on  the  right  track  The  Event  is  resisting  the  urge  to  plaster  our  pages  with  holly  and  snow.  If  this  upsets  you  whilst   you’re  reading,  and  you  feel  that  you  would  like  to  have  more  of  a  Christmassy  atmosphere,  then  you  could  hold  a  real  piece  of  holly  over  each  of  the  pages.  To  be  economical,  you  could  use  the  same  piece  of  holly  for  every  page,  just  by  picking  it  up  as  you  turn  a  page  and  placing  it  in  the  corner  as  you  begin  reading.  Unfortunately,  it  will  be  harder  for  you  to  rep- licate  snow  for  your  reading  experience,  unless  you  have  a  rather  large  freezer  that  you  could  sit  beside  as  you  read, Â
occasionally  opening  the  door  and  scooping  some  excess  ice  out. As  the  year  comes  to  a  close  it  only  remains  for  us  to  say  a  big,  warm  thankyou  to  everyone  who  reads  The  Event,  and  an  extra  heart-Âfelt  one  to  those  who  enjoy  it.  For  those  of  you  who  feel  that  you  do  enough  exercise,  drink  sensibly,  and  only  enjoy  chocolate  in  moderation  -  why  not  make  a  new  year’s  resolution  to  come  and  join  Concrete  and  write  for  The  Event?  What  a  productive  year  2006  might  turn  out  to  be  for  you  if  you  did!  After  all,  there  is  the  slim  chance  that  this  may  turn  out  to  be  the Â ďŹ rst  step  towards  a  successful  career  in  the  creative  industries.  Or  at  least  the Â ďŹ rst  step  towards  a  life  long  love  affair  with  late  nights  and  coffee. Many  thanks  to  all  of  those  who  worked  so  hard  on  this  issue  and  all  of  the  issues  so  far  this  year.  There  are  many  more  to  come,  so  keep  it  up  guys!  Have  a  great,  and  restful  Christmas  without  me  moaning  at  you.  Merry  Christmas  to  all.      Â
Kate  Â
Merry  Christmas
Editor-in-chief               4BSBI &EXBSEFT Editor  &  Designer ,BUF #SZBOU Deputy  Editor "OOB 4UFXBSE Art  Editor                                     3PBOOB #POE Contributors:  Alex  Flux,  Daisy  Bowie-ÂSell,  Alex  Mew
Fashion  Editors  -BVSB $PCC ,BUISZO 8FTU Contributors:  Becky  Rutt,  Rebecca  Hunt,  Paul  Bougourd,  Ben  Sparshot
Film  Editor  4FCBTUJBO .BOMFZ Contributors:  Claire  Carter,  Stephen  Sharrock,  Richard  Boakes,  Charlotte  Kimbley,  Eddie  Howarth,  Natasha  Kundaiker,  Ewan  Anderson,  Mike  Cumes
Music  Editor  $IBSMFT 3VNTFZ Contributors:  Paul  Bougourd,  Andrew  Riley,  Simon  Grif-Â ďŹ ths,  Chris  Hyde,  Kelvin  Knight,  Greg  Sullivan,  Holly  Watte,  Chester  Field
TV  Editor  $ISJT )ZEF Contributors:  Becky  Rutt,  Rebecca  Hunt,  Ben  Sparshot,  Paul  Bougourd
Creative  Writing  Editor      .FSJOOF 8IJUUPO Contributors:  Zak  Klein,  Josh  Kalscheur,  Jenny  Andres,  Tim  Lince,  Philip  T,  E  M  Crisp,  Alex  Irving Â
Listings  Editor                 'JPOB #JMMJOHT Internet  Editor                 ,BUF #SZBOU
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Fashion
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his  Christmas  forget  frank- incense  and  myrrh  wear  gold,  silver  and  bronze.  These  colours  are  so  hot  you  can  wear  them  all  at  once.  Deck  yourself  from  head  to  toe  in  hot  to  trot  sparkle.  Nothing  catches  light  under  the  glitter  ball  like  dresses,  ac- cessories  and  shoes  that  glitter.  This  win- ter  has  brought  back  the  90s  boob  tube  by  adding  some  up  to  date  additions,  and  it’s  never  looked  so  sultry.  Wrap  a  bright  sash,  the  longer  the  better  round  your  rib  cage.  Then  put  some  junk  in  the  trunk,  by  adding  a  thick  layered  tutu  underneath.  Ballet  looks  are  perfect  for  Christmas  angels.  Gorgeous  gowns  will  be  adorned  with  ribbon,  net  and  lace  and Â ďŹ Â nished  with  a  full  fancy  skirt.  A Â ďŹ Â ne- ly  boned  bodice  also  presents  a  saving  grace  for  those  girls  whose  cup  does  not  runneth  over.  Corsets  can  be  worn  over  or  under  a  dress.  Polish  off  this  princess  perfect  look  with  a  pair  of  dainty  rounded  toe  shoes,  espe- cially  those  that  tie  with  ribbon  round  the  an- kle.  Skinny  scarves  can  smarten  up  a  simple  dress,  knotted  round  the  neck,  or  slung  round  your  waist.  Likewise,  berets  are  a  wonderful  addition  to  a  party  look,  and  can  bring  a  certain  intelligence  to  a  simple  silk  slip  dress.  Try  fabrics  like  felt,  or  those  styles  scattered  with  sequins.  Make  a  party  look  sparkle  by  raid- ing  your  grandma’s  jewellery  box  for  dainty  broaches,  pin  to  the  neck  of  your  dresses,  and Â ďŹ Â nish  with  a  mass  of  chunky  beaded  necklaces.  Already  sinned  one  too  many  times  this  year?  Make  a  statement  with  a  cumberband.  This  Spanish  style  acces- sory  shouldn’t  just  be  equated  with  posh  toffs  in  fancy  suits.  Cumberbands  create  a  sleek  silhouette,  whilst  carefully  cam- ou  aging  the  last  twelve  months  of  indul- gence.  They  also  pair  well  with  slick  tube  dresses,  but  additionally  add  appeal  to  your  skinny  jeans  and  camisole  combo.  If  you  really  can’t  bare  the  thought  of    imsy  fabric  cling- ing  to  your  Mega  Munch  stomach,  attempt  matching  separates.  A  silky  vest  and  a  skirt  with  a  swish  to  its  tail  will  detract  from  those  wobbly  bits.  Choose  pieces  in  one  bold  col- our,  like  black  or  green  to  fake  a    uid  look.  For  those  into  the  new  wave  of  sixties  chic,  there’s  also  knitted  jumpers  dresses  in  monochrome  tones.  Party  proof  the  look  with  a  pair  of  col- oured  tights  and  a  matching  belt.  Pop  a  thick  hairband  on  and  chuck  the  rest  of  your  hair  up Â
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Fashion that lucky girl who only requires a lipgloss in her purse to keep her look fresh) grab a rec- tangular clutch. Party hair should be simple. Anything that takes more than fi ve minutes in the toilet to fi x, is too long! Soft curls, low ponies, or back combed half ponies, all are the perfect accompaniment to your party piece. If you’re really not sure, just sprinkle your usual style with a fi stful of fairy dust. Add hairspray to allow the glitter to cling to your do. Before you take the Lambrini off ice there’s a few mistakes a Christmas party girl should never make. Even if the dress
into an untidy bun. C o m p l e m e n t with ankle boots that boast a dainty heel. This Christmas there’s help-a-plenty for those of us fearful of fl ashing long forgotten folds of fl esh. Disguise bingo wings with a classic cape in tweed or wool. Or make like a socialite and shroud your modesty in a luxurious fur wrap, but don’t forget to fake it! If your six pack is chilling in the fridge, rather than stacked neatly on your stomach, guide all eyes to your chest. Replicate a gym toned tum with a dress that ruffl es in folds of fabric at your middle. Stack that wrack with a pair of squidgy chicken fi l- lets. Those with an adhesive side mean you can crank your cleavage up a few notches. If you spend the year avoiding all things feminine, and the thought of girly garb leaves you gagging, slip a dress over some scruffy jeans, and fasten a unkempt leather belt round your hips. This adjusts your appearance to a smarter dress code, without compromising your messy madam tendencies. Or you can make like Hollywood starlets, Mischa Barton and Lindsey Lohan, who team their dresses with a pair of scuffed up skater trainers. Those on the British it-list, Jade Jagger and Cat Deeley prefer knee high biker boot with their dresses. You could also try leg warm- ers, slouched over a pair of heels. A military
code proposes “fun”, don’t wear devil horns, because there’s fun, and there’s just being annoying. Same goes for feather boas, and ironic attempts to look innocent with a pair of angel wings. Everyone knows what you’re planning on doing under the misteletoe. One fi nal piece of advice to all those faux Xmas angels: if one too many snowballs means you indulge in a festive treat - remember to leave the wrapper on.
jacket o r t w e e d lumberjack bomber over a dress also downplays the feminine aspect. Few party dresses require a sim- ple spritz of perfume and a smile. There’s a list of trimmings to check off before you even call that taxi. Accessories require attention though;; select with subtlety, don’t replicate the Christmas tree. Adorn your neck with a series of simple chains, each of a different length, try long chains cluttered with sparkly gems and colourful stones. Flex those wrists with diamante bracelets and classic cuffs. Finish fi ngers with a single ring, the thicker the better. Thank the heavens that the fashion Gods have fi nally found a trend that is practical as well stylish. A big bulky bag swinging from your shoulder will coun- teract an extra sexy dress, and can be fi lled to bursting with all those party essentials. All that glitters is defi nitely gold, and the high street is stocked this season with bags that shimmer. Or for a minimalist look, (or for
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Diversify &BDI ZFBS 6&" T %SBNB4PD QVMM PVU BMM UIF TUPQT GPS %JWFSTJGZ UIF IJHIMJHIU PG FWFSZ TUVEFOU T DVMUVSBM DBMFOEBS 5IJT ZFBS "MFY 'MVY TPBLT VQ UIF IJHIMJHIUT BOE HJWFT B SVO EPXO PG UIF NPTU VONJTTBCMF NPNFOUT
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very  year  the  DramaSoc  stages  a  showcase  of  short  plays  to  give  its  members  the  chance  to  show  off   their  talents.   It  consist- ently  manages  to  live  up  to  its  reputation  as  the  most  interesting  drama  event  on  the  UEA’s  calender.  This  year’s  Diversify  saw  a  host  of  performances  arranged  into  two  separate  evenings,  each  showing  twice.  The  lineup  included  a  dance  group,  poetry,  music,  improv  and  a  variety  of  modern  theatre,  from  both  well  known  playwrites  and  UEA’s  home  sprung  writers.  The  Wednesday  and  Friday  nights  began  with  a  short  play  entitled  The  Tennis  Shoe,  an  extract  from  a  Shel  Silverstein  play,  in  which  a  man  called  Harvey,  played  by  Theo  Leonard,  confronts  his  wife  Sylvia,  played  by  Jerdana  Zeldin,  in  a  restaurant  about  her  becoming  a  bag  lady.  At Â ďŹ rst  Sylvia  denies  the  accusation,  but  Harvey  persists  and  eventually  succeeds  in  exposing  her  slight  mental  instability,  the  play  ends  with  her  running  out  of  the  restau- rant. Following  this  was  an  improv  routine  by  a  group  called  The  Improfessionals.  The  group  enacted  how  the  British  parliament  would  deal  with  an  imaginary  national  crisis,  which  was  determined  by  an  audience  member  on  the  Wednesday  to  be  the  lack  of  toast.  In  addi- tion  to  this  audience  members  were  asked  be- forehand  to  write  a  random  line  of  dialogue  on  a  piece  of  paper  and  each  Improfessional  was  to  use  one  such  line  in  their  act  without  hav- ing  read  it.  The  act  was  generally  good,  with  some  actors  contributing  more  than  others,  they  achieved  a  good  and  very  funny  effect  for  this  very  daunting  form  of  performance. After  this  the  lights  dimmed  to  one  red  spotlight  shining  on  a  single  piano  and  mi-Â
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crophone  waiting  for  singer  songwriter  Tara  Spackman  to  take  the  stage.  She  played  two  heartfelt  songs  one  called  Category  and  the  other  Goodbye.   The  former  was  about  not  wanting  to  have  to  conform  to  other’s  demands  and  the  latter  about  her  experi- ences  leaving  Australia  before  coming  to  England.  The  lights  then  disappeared  complete- ly  and  stagehands  brought  in  two  tables  and  a  bucket,  the  setting  for  the  next  play,  Lowebarnum  Lost,  the  debut  performance  of  UEA  student  Nick  Mellish’s  playwrit- ing  talents.  The  play  was  well  constructed  around  the  sensitive  theme  of  suicide,  as  a  young  woman  who  comes  to  the  Lowebar- num  cliffs  to  kill  herself  is  talked  out  of  it  by  a  kind  bystander.   The  overall  performance  was  successful  but  the  desperation  and  frustration  of  the  main  character  did  not  feel  entirely  believable  which  reduced  the  work’s  emotional  impact  slightly. After  a  wine  and  juice  interval  came  the  most  substantial  play  of  the  evening,  Justin  Butcher’s  fascinating  work  Scara- mouche  Jones.  The  play  recounts  the  life  of  a  100  year  old  clown,  wonderfully  played  by  Kevin  Smith,  through Â ďŹ fty  years  making  the  clown  and Â ďŹ fty  years  playing  one.  This  work  alone  deserves  a  much  longer  critique  than  is  possible  here.  However,  the  acting  itself  was  spot  on  and  was  particularly  impressive  for  the  microwaveable  use  of  language  and  accent.  The  clear  audience  favourite  was  the  Prince  Udine  played  by  Adam  Moulder,  who  was  provocatively  dressed  in  a  pink  Ki- mono  and  full  stockings  and  suspenders.  The  Event  has  nothing  but  praise  for  the  performance,  which  was  easily  the  most  re- warding  act  of  the  evening. The  line-Âup  for  the  Tuesday  and  Thurs- day  evenings  was  far  more  packed.  It  began Â
with  a  self-Âchoreographed  piece  by  the  aptly  named  Dance  Troupe.  To  the  background  of  a  heavy  metal  track  the  Troupe’s  well  prac- ticed  routine  created  a  moving  impression,  which  the  audience  seemed  to  appreciate.  There  was  little  repetition  of  techniques  and  the  skill  of  the  individual  dancers  was  high. Â
*U DPOTJTUFOUMZ NBO BHFT UP MJWF VQ UP JUT SFQVUBUJPO BT UIF NPTU JOUFSFTUJOH ESB NB FWFOU PO 6&" T DBMFOEBS In  short  it  was  an  exciting  introduction  for  what  was  to  follow.  The  next  act  consisted  of  a  monologue  piece  performed  by  Sha- ron  Kanolik  in  the  role  of  a  trafďŹ c  warden,  entitled  Lines.  The  character  addresses  the  audience  as  if  she  were  about  to  give  them  a  ticket.  She  proceeds  to  justify  the  impor- tance  and  value  of  her  position,  one  that  is  obviously  contested  on  a  daily  basis,  and  the  ticket  is  eventually  waived  by  her  kind- ness.  The  piece  was  well  acted  and  genu- inely  convincing.  The  lights  dimmed  again,  and  when  they  returned  there  was  a  bed  on  the  stage.  A  skinny  young  man  named  Moss,  played  by  Jon  Stone,  was  kneeling  on  the  bed  watch- ing  television  whilst  a  girl  named  Daisy,  played  by  the  play’s  writer  Kirtsy  Irving,  is  dressing  next  to  him.  It  turns  out  that  they  had  sex  the  night  before  and  it  was  Moss’ Â ďŹ rst  time,  but  not  hers.  Daisy  is  a  prostitute,  unbeknown  to  Moss,  who  eventually Â ďŹ nds  out  when  she  asks  him  for  her  money.  The  second  act  sees  an  older  Moss  and  Daisy  chancing  upon  a  meeting  in  a  speed-Âdating  hall.  They  talk  and  soon  realise  why  they  rec- ognise  each  other,  and  Moss  summons  the  guts  to  ask  Daisy,  whose  name  isn’t  Daisy,  or  Holly,  or  any  other  name  she  gives  him,  out  on  a  date.  The  play  ends  with  them  both  leaving,  together. The  next  act  comprised  one  man,  Paul  Haggar,  reading  his  poem  entitled  The  Cat  Who  Came  in  from  the  Cold.  The  supposed Â ďŹ ction  of  the  poem  was  that  it  was  writ- ten  by  Haggar’s  friend  from  back  home  in  Wales,  who  would  stay  up  all  night  drinking  copious  amounts  of  coffee  and  writing  po- ems,  such  as  the  one  being  read.  Haggar’s  well  structured  and  pleasing  poem  follows  the  coffee  fueled  odyssey  of  a  cat,  through  dark  rivers  and  oceans  and  strange  rooms  with  carved  wooden  cafetieres.  Although Â
somewhat  difďŹ cult  to  follow,  Paul  Haggar’s  articulation  was  fantastic,  and  the  poem  well  written. The Â ďŹ nal  play  before  the  interval  was  Tim  Hughes’  Snakes  and  Ladders,  a  tragi-Âcome- dy  of  one  man’s  past  and  present  acted  out  at  the  same  time.  The  younger  Alex,  played  by  Tim  Hughes,  was  a  middle  manager  re- sponsible  for  judging  application  forms,  and  the  elder  Alex  was  looking  for  any  job  that  would  take  him,  just  so  he  can  live  a  little  better.  Well  performed  and  acted,  and  with  a  good  sense  of  purpose,  the  play’s  strength  lay  in  its  tragic,  unresolved  ending,  implying  the  consequential  downfall  of  con- stantly  wanting  a  different  life. First  after  the  interval  was  a  song  by  Rachel  Owens,  whose  impressive  voice  cap- tured  the  love  song  completely.  Following  this  was  short  but  dense  absurd  comedy  called  Psychodynamics  written  by  Joe  Wells.  Wells  played  a  therapist  and  Roanna  Bond  his  patient.  The  roles  were  not Â ďŹ xed  howev- er,  and  due  to  some  fast  moving  and  funny  word  plays,  the  piece  ends  with  Joe  lying  on  the  couch.  An  extract  from  Yasmina  Reza’s  play  Art  followed  this.  The  piece  sees  the  arbitrary  arguments  of  two  lovers  and  their  friend,  over  a  white  painting.  Marc,  played  by  Adam  Moulder,  is  in  disbelief  over  his  lover  Sarah,  played  by  Mel  Spencer,  buying  the  painting.  He  takes  his  frustration  out  on  Yvonne,  played  by  Laurie  Miller-ÂZutshi,  who  is  then  defended  by  Sarah,  who  is  then  attacked  by  Marc  and  so  on.  All  the  parts  were  performed  wonderfully,  and  captured  the  roles  well.  Arguably  the  most  startling  contri- bution  was  the Â ďŹ nal  play  of  the  evening,  Medea  Redux,  written  by  Neil  Labute,  and  performed  by  Claire  Carter.  The  play  is  a  monologue  piece  of  a  young  woman  ex- plaining  what  lead  her  to  kill  her  young  child.  The  character  recounts  her  affair  with  one  of  her  school  teachers,  how  he  made  her  pregnant  and  have  his  illegitimate  child.  The  emotional  punch  comes  when  she Â ďŹ - nally  says  how  she  killed  her  child  after  her Â ďŹ rst  meeting  with  the  father  since  the  baby’s  birth.  The  play  is  certainly  brilliant  and  Cart- er’s  acting  was  perfectly  suited  to  the  part  and  really  carried  the  writing.  It  is  probably  clear  by  now  that  the  DramaSoc  put  on  an  splendid  array  of  per- formances,  all  of  which  The  Event  has  tried  to  mention.  Each  act  performed  to  a  high  standard,  and  amongst  the  many  actors,  ac- tresses,  dancers  and  musicians  there  were  undoubtedly  some  extremely  talented  indi- viduals.  The  most  enjoyable  aspects  of  the  event  were  the  longer  plays,  the  actors  in  these  pieces  achieved  a  great  emotional  ef- fect,  which  left  the  impression  that  not  only  was  Diversify  a  showcase  of  future  talent,  but  a  worthwhile  event  on  its  own. Â
Theatre
Saturday  Night  Fever 5IFBUSF 3PZBM UI /PW SE %FD Hip  gyratingly,  tight  clothingly,  feet  swingingly,  sex  thump- ingly  funky;Íž  Saturday  Night  Fever  leaves  you  ready  to  swing  those  hips.    Yes  it’s  the  west  end  show  of  the Â ďŹ lm  we  all  know  and  [some  of  us]  love.  The  original  lyrics  of  the  Bee  Gees,  who  wrote  the  musical  in  the  Nineteen  Seventies,  are  recognisable  to  any-Âone,  so  don’t  panic  if  you  weren’t  around  in  that  era.  If  you’re  a  fan  of  disco  dancing,  and  like  a  bit  of  harking  back  to  the  disco  Seventies  where  ares  and  tight  spandex  ruled,  then  Saturday  Night  Fever  will  not  dis- appoint.  I  can’t  help  thinking  though,  as  I  sit  surrounded  by  screaming  middle  aged  women,  that  perhaps  it’s  getting  a  bit  dated.  However,  I  would  say  that  this  production  of  Saturday  Night  Fever  was  full  of  excellent  moves  and  funky  tunes.  The  set  and  choreography  were  brilliant.  Plot  and  script  were  lacking,  but  realistically,  who  goes  to  see  Sat- urday  Night  Fever  and  concentrates  on  the  script?  Jamie  Hughes-ÂWard  pulled  off  a  brilliant  Tony  Manero,  looking  suitable  toned,  in  his  garish  shirts,  and  white  suits.  Not  to  mention  the  women;Íž  Rebecca  Dent,  playing  Annette,  and  Jayde  Westby,  playing  Stephanie,  whose  voices   compelling- ly  created  a  new  sense  of  the  Bee  Gee’s  If  I  Can’t  Have  You,   and  How  Deep  Is  Your  Love.  The  play  nicely  contains  and  controls  the  seventies,  enabling  us  all  to  look  back  on  the  fashion  faux-Âpas  and  take  comfort  that  at  least  there  won’t  be  a  revival  of  the  gold  medallion  and  hairy  chest. %BJTZ #PXJF 4FMM
Arts
Bestsellers 1 Â 5IF 1FOVMUJNBUF 1FSJM
Lemony  Snicket  £7.99    Bloomsbury
2  +BNJF T *UBMZ Jamie  Oliver   £6.99    Corgi  Adult
3  6OUPME 4UPSJFT Alan  Bennett  £6.99    Abacus
4  5IF 4IBEPX PG UIF 8JOE Carlos  Ruiz  Zafon     £6.99    Penguin
5  (VJOFTT 8PSME 3FDPSET  £6.99    Corgi  Adult
6  5IF 8PSME "DDPSEJOH UP $MBSLTPO Jeremy  Clarkson   £7.99    Vintage
7  .BSHSBWF PG UIF .BSTIFT John  Peel,  Sheila  Ravenscraft   £6.99    Time  Warner  Paper- backs
8  5IVE Terry  Pratchett  Ebury  Press
9  5IF %B 7JODJ $PEF Dan  Brown£7.99    Vintage
10  4DPUMBOE 4USFFU Alexander  Mcall-ÂSmith  £8.99    BBC  Books =
Books
'JHIU $MVC $IVDL 1BMBIOJVL Anyone  who  thinks  that  they’ve  seen  the Â ďŹ lm  with  Brad  Pitt  and  Edward  Norton  and  doesn’t  need  to  read  the  book  because  they  already  know  what  happens,  is  in  for  a  big  surprise.  The  novel  by  Chuck  Palahniuk  features  the  gloomy  monologues  of  the  nameless  central  character,  dissatisďŹ ed  with  his  boring  life;Íž  his  ofďŹ ce  job,  his  obsession  with  group  therapy  sessions  for  diseases  he  doesn’t  have  and  his  tower  block  apartment.  This  all  changes  when  he  meets  Tyler  Durden  and  forms  Fight  Club.  The Â ďŹ rst  rule  of  Fight  Club  is  that  you  do  not  talk  about  Fight  Club.  The  second  rule  of  Fight  Club  is  that  you  do  not  talk  about  Fight  Club.  Nevertheless  we  see  through  the  eyes  of  our  nameless  narra- tor  amidst  his  often  hilarious  anecdotal  com- mentary  on  the  state  of  modern  life  and  dark Â
philosophical  ramblings  that  Fight  Club  is  a  spreading  organisation.  As  the  tension  within  the  half  mad  narrator  increases,  his  Fight  Club  also  has  to  proceed  to  its  next  level:  Project  Mayhem,  the  narrator  must  discover  how  wide- spread  the  organisation  is  and  who  Tyler  Dur- den  is  before  he  can  arrest  Project  Mayhem’s  terrorist  agenda.  For  fans  of  the  movie  and  peo- ple  who  have  never  seen  it  alike,  Fight  Club  is  a  fascinating  commentary  on  how  modern  life  has  imprisoned  the  hunter  gatherer  in  every  man  through  unnecessary  consumerist  traps.  Full  of  shocking  twists  and  dark  humour,  Fight  Club  is  highly  recommendable  for  anyone  inter- ested  in  the  failings  of  modern  life  or  in  bizarre  post  modernist  narrative. "MFY .FX
Event The
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TV
Primetime
Shark  Infested  Custard  *57 QN 'SJEBZT As  the  series  picks  up  speed,  we  felt  it  was  time  we  re- viewed  the  underrated  Harry  Hill’s  latest  TV  show.  Shark  Infested  Custard  takes  Hill’s  trademark  surreal  sense  of  hu- mour  and  conveys  it  to  a  whole  new  audience  –  those  under  12.  It’s  the Â ďŹ rst  time  that  a  mainstream  comedian  has  ever  made  a  show  speciďŹ cally  for  younger  people  and,  as  such,  is  quite  a  daring  move.  Each  episode  is  a  bit  formulaic  –  Hill  presents  a  se- ries  of  running  gags  and  features  that  are  interspersed  by  bits  of  comedy  and  audience  interaction.  A  weird  Get  Your  Own  Back-Âesque  game  each  week,  called  Bash  the  Baldy,  gives  two  kids  and  their  grans  the  chance  to  slap  the  bald  heads  of  celebrities  as  they  push  them  through  holes  in  a  large  wall.  It’s  exactly  as  strange  as  it  sounds;Íž  but  what  else  would  be  expected  from  Harry  Hill?  Undoubtedly  one  of  the  funniest  running  jokes  is  The  Boy  with  a  Speed  Camera  for  a  Head,  in  which  a  boy  with  a  speed  camera  for  a  head  has  to  face  a  world  that  cruelly  mocks  him  for  his  afiction.  Â
)PMMZPBLT Wow,  this  week  is  deďŹ nitely  not  one  to  miss  in  the  Hollyoaks  village.  Hollyoaks  ‘No  Going  Back’  sees  things  getting  very  heated  after  Andy’s  devious  ways  are Â ďŹ nally  revealed.  Mel  and  Sophie  are  caught  in  Andy’s  clutches  and  yet  another  girl  falls  victim  to  his  drug  raping  scheme.  Sam’s  name  is  also  be- ing  dragged  through  the  mud  and  suspicions  rise  when  the  police  pay  him  a  visit.  Lee  is  also  having  a  pretty  bad  week  as  his  presidency  falls  apart  around  him.  He  has  at  last  seen  the  light  and  realised  that  Chris  is,  in  fact,  not  his  best  mate  and,  with  no  other  options,  he  turns  to  Zara  for  help.  Cameron  and  Steph  have  hit  a  rough  patch  as  his  obsessive  disorder  begins  to  take  over  his  life.  As  she  throws  herself  into  the  Christmas  spirit,  Cameron  does  not  follow  as  he  worries  he’s  no  longer  in  control  of  his  life.  Rhys  reveals  his  true  identity  to  Jessica  this  week  but  she  is  torn  between  this  new  love  and  her  long  term  boyfriend  Marc.  This  week  sees  several  drama Â ďŹ lled  epi- sodes  so  be  sure  you  don’t  miss  any  of  them. #FDLZ 3VUU /FJHICPVST This  week  has  certainly  been  a  good  one  for  all  female  Neighbours  fans,  what  with  the  appearance  of  Stu’s  hot  brother  Ned.  He  has  been  sent  down  from  the  country  to  check  up  on  his  brother  who  was  on  the  edge  of  a  nervous  breakdown  -  that  is  until  Ned  pushed  him  into  a  river  nearly  drowning  him,  all  in  the  name  of  character  building!  Stu  sur- vived  and,  just  like  that,  is  back  to  his  normal  self.  Ned  was  recruited  by  Paul  to  seduce  Izzy  which  involved  a  ‘Desperate  Housewives-Âesque’  scene  of  him  toplessly  trimming  the  lawn.  However  man-Âeater  Izzy  did  not  rise  to  the  bait  and  was  instead  caught  by  Ned  frantically  popping  pills.  Susan  and  Alex  are  now  ofďŹ cially  a  couple  and,  as  a  result,  Alex  has  loosened  the  reigns  on  his  two  overly  geeky  sprogs  to  whom  junk  food  is  the  eighth  deadly  sin.  There  was  more  drama  with  the  trailer  trash  clan  (aka  the  Timmonds);Íž  Janelle  accused  Karl  of  having  an  inappropriate  relationship  with  Jane  and   Susan  was  forced  to  relieve  him  of  his  counselling duties,  fuelling  speculation  that  he  might  be  guilty. 3FCFDDB )VOU
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slapped  silly  and  it’s  a  bit  below  us,  but  a  variation  on  it  each  week  would  have  been  nice. While  it  may  not  have  been  entirely  successful,  Shark  Infested  Custard  was  something  very  different  and  it’s  al- ways  good  to  have  Hill  on  our  screens.  He  is  a  breath  of  fresh  air  in  TV  comedy  and  the  next  series  of  both  TV  Burp  and  Shark  Infested  Custard  can’t  come  quickly  enough.
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As  with  Hill’s  past  TV  shows  and  his  recent  stand-Âup  comedy  tour,  the  comedy  comes  from  the  sheer  unpredict- ability.  One  running  feature  is  Ask  Stouffer,  in  which  an  au- dience  member  tells  Hill’s  blue  cat  puppet  a  problem  and  gets  a  completely  unpredictable  answer  –  one  child  had  no  friends,  to  which  Stouffer  recommended  gluing  sweets  onto  his  face  so  that  people  would  be  attracted  to  him.  There  are  a  few  problems  with  the  show.  Hill’s  comedy  is  deďŹ nitely  an  acquired  taste  and,  if  you’re  not  a  fan  of  his  previous  programmes,  then  there  won’t  be  much  to  change  your  mind  here.  It’s  also  debateable  whether  the  comedy  here  will  be  entirely  understood  by  it’s  target  audience  –  jokes  about  supermarkets  and  playing  pool  seem  to  go  over  the  heads  of  most  of  the  on-Âscreen  audience.  As  men- tioned  previously,  it  is  also  very  repetitive  –  the  features,  such  as  Bash  the  Baldy,  don’t  introduce  anything  new  in  different  weeks.  Of  course,  this  could  be  because  younger  kids  would  be  entertained  by  the  sight  of  bald  heads  being Â
Amid  letters  from  viewers  declaring  their  desire  to  hear  the  theme  song  throughout,  without  interruption  from  the  mindless  prattle  of  television  presenters,  the  children’s  show  Round  the  Twist  broke  onto  television  screens  in  1990.   Inevitably, Â ďŹ fteen  years  later,  mention  of  said  show  promotes  in  your  average  student  a  crisp  recollection  of  the  title  jingle,  behind  which  lie  fond,  though  somewhat  hazy,  memories  of  some  of  the  notable  antics  of  the  Twist  family,  including  magic  lipstick  and  the  overwhelming  compulsion  to  conclude  each  sentence  with  the  statement  “without  my  pantsâ€?.   The  show  was,  indeed,  a  monument  of  our  child- hood,  an  Australian  phenomenon  bested  only  by  the  go- ings-Âon  in  Ramsay  Street. So  here  we  are  –  the  DVD  release  of  series  four,  shown  originally  in  the  UK  in  2000.   Of  course,  the  Twists  we  re- member,  namely  Bronson,  Pete  and  Linda  (the  kids  in  the  spectacular Â ďŹ rst  series)  were  by  this  time  much  too  old  to  reprise  their  roles  –  in  fact,  the  original  actors  in  these  parts  only  saw  their  way  through  that  one  series,  swiftly  discarded  for  the  more  apt  younger  models  of  1992’s  second  outing.   By  1998’s  series  three  their  third  incarnations  were  in  place, Â
the  same  characters  you  will Â ďŹ nd  on  this  latest  and  last  edi- tion. The  premise  is  simple  but  quite  bizarre:  a  family  move  from  their  home  in  the  city  to  a  lighthouse  that  happens  to  be  haunted.   The  result  is  a  jumble  of  peculiar  events  involving  ghosts,  dragons  and  the  like  –  each  episode  was  completely  unique  and  written  by  (and  based  on  the  short  stories  of)  Paul  Jennings. The  memorable  wonder  of  the Â ďŹ rst  two  releases  is  sadly  diminished  in  this,  and  the  previous,  jaunt  into  the  world  of  Twist  by  the  absence  of  the  original  writer,  but  this  does  not  mean  to  say  that  without  Jennings  the  show  is  point- less.   Sure  this  fourth  series  falls  short  of  the  earlier  genius  of  babies  growing  in  cabbage  patches,  but  can  a  series  that  features  Count  Dracumite,  a  Transylvanian  ea,  or  the  pres- ence  of  the  Lintmonster  really  be  ignored? The  show  is  most  certainly  worth  a  watch,  and  this  DVD  packs  thirteen  decent  episodes,  but  if  you  are  in  search  of  a  nostalgic  Round  the  Twist  experience,  empty  your  pockets  for  series  one  and  two. 1BVM #PVHPVSE
Telly  Classics *OTQFDUPS .PSTF “Morse.  Everyone  just  calls  me  Morseâ€?.  For  the  thirteen  years  he  graced  our  screens,  millions  of  viewers  did  just  that.  Oxford  has  become  synonymous  with  the  ashen  faced  detective  who,  along  with  the  cheery  assistance  of  Sergeant  Lewis,  solved  more  than  thirty  of  the  city’s  toughest  cases. Out  of  the  many  things  one  could  associate  with  Morse,  it  is  deďŹ nitely  his  regular  travels  between  crime  scene  and  the  pub  in  the  infamous  red  Jaguar  which  mark  him  as  a  cut  above  other Â ďŹ ctional  detectives.  Probably  the  only  pro- gramme  to  endorse  alcohol  as  a  fuel  for  the  mind,  the  tradi- tional  English  pub  served  as  a  favourite  haunt  for  the  insep- arable  duo  –  with  Lewis  perpetually  getting  the  drinks  in. “Inspector  Morseâ€?  is  not  merely  a  criminal  drama;Íž  Colin Â
Dexter’s  original  creation  captures  both  the  natural  beauty  and  architectural  brilliance  of  the  city,  with  landmarks  such  as  the  Randolph  Hotel  and  the  Oxford  colleges  being  home  to  murder  enquiries.  The  much  missed  John  Thaw  starred  alongside  Kevin  Whately  in  what  rapidly  became  one  of  ITV’s  most  suc- cessful  dramas.  It  was  the  relationship  between  Morse  and  Lewis,  both  humorous  and  heart-Âtouching,  which  became  an  important  part  in  the  programme’s  success.  The  arrival  of  “Lewisâ€?  in  2006  will  endeavour  to  win  the  audience’s  fa- vour,  though  nothing  can  ever  replace  the  telly  classic  that  is  “Inspector  Morseâ€?.    #FO 4QBSTIPU
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f  you’re  asking  ‘What’s  Lost?’  the  main  question  is  where  have  you  been  for  the  last  year?  On  a  deserted  tropical  island  of  your  own?  The  fantasy  show  hit  the  US  last  autumn  causing  a  storm  in  the  TV  world,  lead- ing  to  a  string  of  Emmys  and  a  massive  global  following.  Since  reach- ing  our  shores  in  August,  ‘Lost-ÂMania’  has  hit  the  UK,  with  audiences  hooked  on  its  characters  and  its  subversive  blend  of  sci-ÂďŹ ,  fantasy,  tragi-Âcomedy  and  thriller.  Created  by  J.J.  Abrams  (Felicity  and  Alias)  and  Damon  Lindelof  (Crossing  Jordan),  Lost  follows  the  tale  of  48  survivors  of  a  plane  crash  that  leaves  them  stranded  on  a  mysterious  and  seemingly  deserted  island  in  the  South  PaciďŹ c.  Underlying  it  all  is  a  serious  drama,  showing  how  the  castaways  deal  with  the  day-Âto-Âday  aftermath  of  the  crash.  The  focus  is  placed  on  the  lives  of  14  passengers,  which  is  a  big  change  from  the  standard  issue  of  four  or Â ďŹ ve  protagonists.  Unsurprisingly  the  creators  had  to Â ďŹ ght  off  pressures  of  TV  executives  to  cut  down  the  characters  (thank  god  they  didn’t),  dispers- ing  the  common  myth  that  TV  audiences  aren’t  ready  for  multiple  storylines.   The  cast  is  also  very  international.  It’s  not  a  show  full  of  white  Anglo-ÂSaxons,  and  is  not  one  that’s  all  in  English  either. Abrams  and  Lindlof  go  a  long  way  in  proving  that  long  term  and  serialised  sto- rytelling  works  and,  for  Lost,  there  are  no  ‘stand-Âalone’  episodes  as  every  single  one  counts  in  progressing  the  tale.  It’s  like  a  good  book  -  when  you  look  back  you  will  notice  the  hints  early  on  that  allow  you  to  read  deeper  into  plot.  Lost  is  not  only  seri- alised  in  the  present,  but  in  the  past  as  well,  relying  on  ashbacks  to  reveal  the  myste- rious  pre-Âight  lives  of  our  14  castaways,  each  with  their  own  skeletons  in  the  closet,  which  may  be  challenging  for  mainstream  audiences  but  this  method  gives  the  show  a  unique  feel.  Heading  the  pack  is  Dr.  Jack  Sheppard,  played  by  Party  of  Five’s  Matthew  Fox.  On  the  island  he  is  turned  into  a  reluctant  hero  and  thrust  into  the  role  of  the  leader,  mak- ing  hard  choices  in  order  to  save  the  lives  of  the  other  survivors  -  for  them  it’s  hard  trying  to  maintain  the  ethics  of  the  normal  world  without  letting  Lord  of  the  Flies  style  anar- chy  take  over.  Alongside  him  is  Alias’s  Terry  O’Quinn  as  the  mysterious  John  Locke,  the  spiritualist  and  hunter  of  the  group.  It  also  stars  Brit  actors  Naveen  Andrews  as  Sayid  and  Dominic  Monaghan  (Lord  of  the  Rings)  as  ex-Ârocker  and  heroin  addict  Charlie  Pace. With  the  innovations  of  US  shows  like  24  relying  on  both  visually  engaging  shots  and  character  development,  its  not  surpris- ing  that  Lost  follows  suit  with  each  episode Â
averaging  at  cost  $2  million.  It’s  a  lot  of  money,  but  what  we  see  is  well  worth  it.   The  two  hour  pilot  episode  alone  cost  $12  million;Íž  however,  the  opening  plane  crash Â
"VEJFODFT BSF DPO TUBOUMZ MVMMFE JOUP B GBMTF TFOTF PG TFDVSJ UZ BOE UIFO TIPDLFE DPNQMFUFMZ CZ FWFOUT scene  is  about  a  hundred  times  better  than  a  typical  Hollywood  movie.  This  is  partly  one  of  the  thrills  of  the  show,  as  the  audience  is  given  the  intensity  of  what  it  is  like  to  be  in  a  plane  crash  or  on  the  island  without  hav- ing  to  physically  experience  it  themselves.  The  acting  is  far  from  some  of  the  cringe- worthy  pilot  sci-ÂďŹ Â shows  around,  and  this  is  shown  in  the  passion  and  conviction  that  emanates  from  the  show.   The  protagonists  are  ‘normal’  people  with  human  emotions  just  like  us  and  the  cast  is  well  chosen  to Â ďŹ t  and  combat  stereotypes  as  well  as  being  engaging  characters.  With  the  popularity  of  reality  TV,  the  in- dustry  has  been  moving  towards  edgier  and  character  driven  shows.  Take,  for  example,  the  re-Âinvention  of  Battlestar  Galactica.  Tak- ing  out  the  campness  of  the  original  and  shifting  the  camera  away  from  the  set  and  onto  the  characters  provides  a  more  inti- mate  viewing  and  almost  takes  the  style  of  reality  TV  into  the  genre  of Â ďŹ ction  by  us-Â
ing  extreme  close  ups,  jerky  camera  move- ments  and  taking  us  ‘behind  closed  doors’  (so  to  speak).  Similarly  Lost  takes  on  this  trope.  The  engaging  ashback  method  serves  as  a  win- dow  to  the  past,  cleverly  limiting  what  the  audience  see  and  hear,  as  well  as  develop- ing  the  technique  of  onscreen  slow  reveal  and  character  development.  In  ‘real-Âtime’  on  the  island  we  see  little  of  the  main  fe- male  protagonist  Kate,  as  the  writers  chose  instead  to  show  us  the  many  masks  she  hides  behind.  In  order  for  the  audience  to  grasp  her  character,  we  must  understand  her  past  completely.  We  know  that  she  is  a  criminal  and  that  she  ‘killed  the  man  she  loved’  but  not  much  else,  and  it  is  not  until  the  second  series  that  we  actually Â ďŹ nd  out  “What  Kate  Didâ€?.  One  of  the  beauties  of  this  show  is  that  people  are  not  what  they  seem.  Placing  char- acters  like  Sayid,  an  ex-ÂIraqi  Soldier,  in  the  role  of  a  hero  is  a  brave  move  in  a  post-Â9/11  US.  Audiences  are  constantly  lulled  into  a  false  sense  of  security  and  then  shocked  completely  by  events.  The  initial  ‘bad- guys’  Jin-ÂSoo  Kwon  and  Sawyer,  transform  through  the  ashbacks,  as  the  technique  shows  how  they  got  to  the  detrimental  stage  of  their  new  life  and  pushes  away  the  initial  dislike,  which  almost  makes  heroes  out  of  these  villains.  In  the Â ďŹ rst  series,  the  fourth  episode  “Walkaboutâ€?  was  a  big  episode  in  terms  of  plot  and  the  importance  of  ashbacks.  It’s  not  until  the  end  of  the  episode  that  we  learn  that  Locke  was  in  a  wheelchair,  due  to  paralysis  of  the  legs,  before  the  crash.  The  audience  is  given  small  hints  (we  never  see Â
him  standing  up,  for  example)  and,  at  one  stage,  we’re  misled  into  thinking  he  is  a  colo- nel  -  a  potential  reason  for  his  survival  skills.  The  audience  is  not  given  a  deďŹ nitive  reason  for  why  he  can  walk  again  after  the  crash  and  is  allowed  to  interpret  things  from  their  own  personal  experience.  Similarly  the  island  is  not  what  it  appears.  It  holds  many  secrets,  including  the  howls  of  the  mysterious  ‘monster’,  polar  bears,  a  mysterious  group  called  ‘The  Others’  and,  of  course,  the  hatch.   A  lot  of  the  questions,  like  that  of  The  Black  Rock  and  where  the  French  woman  Rousseau  came  from,  are  answered  by  the  end  of  the Â ďŹ rst  season,  but  the  over  arching  mysteries  of  what  the  monster  is  or  what  the  nature  of  the  island  is  still  overshad- ows  the  plot. The  second  season  is  equally  experimen- tal.  We Â ďŹ nally Â ďŹ nd  out  what  it  is  in  the  hatch  (which  will  blow  your  mind)  and  learn  more  about  our  castaways  that  will  have  you  reas- sessing  your  previous  assumptions.  Locke’s  emotional  story  progresses  and  is  one  of  the  most  interesting  developments  and  we Â ďŹ nd  out  Jack  has  more  mysterious  links  to  people  on  the  island.  The  show  continues  with  the  same  gut-Âwrenching  cliff  hangers,  ensnaring  the  viewer  further  into  the  carefully  construct- ed  web  of  the  plot.  The  island  is  a  new  start  for  everyone.  For  new  father  Michael  and  his  troubled  son  Walt,  it’s  an  opportunity  to  become  a  family.  For  millionaire  Hurley,  it’s  an  opportunity  to  get  some  answers  and  redemption.  For  Boone  and  step-Âsister  Shannon,  it’s  an  opportunity  for  their  relationship  to  be  re-Âassessed.  It  be- comes  everybody’s  new  home  and  it’s  the  per- fect  place  for  such  Lost  souls. Â
Event The
9
Creative  Writing
Poetry
TAXI The  Cynical  Fresher
 Cabby’s  Corner
@
Cabby’s  corner  is  dedicated  to  the  taxi  drivers  of  Norwich  with  their  endless  facts,  stories  and  revelations.   Next  time  you  get  a  taxi  bring  your  notepad  and  email  your  own  cabby’s  corner  to  m.whitton@uea.ac.uk So  I’ve  got  seven  kids  to  feed,  but  people  criticise  me  for  working  nights  and  not  spending  enough  time  with  the  family.   I  mean,  this  is  where  the  money  is  isn’t  it?   You  take  home  next  to  nothing  after  a  day’s  work  in  a  cab,  but  this  time  of  night  when  the  clubs  are  kicking  out  everyone’s  too  pissed  to  ask  for  change  or  anything.   You  can  charge  them  what  you  like. It’s  the  drunken  students  that  are  the  easiest  to  rinse  –  no,  I  don’t  consider  it  immoral  or  anything,  they’re  all  bloody  scroungers  anyway,  sponging  off  Tony’s  government  then  voting  left  wing‌  Anyway,  LCR  to  Bluebell  Road,  that’ll  be  nineteen  pounds  please‌
This  is  the  land  of  beer  and  honey, Where  uncountable  sums  of  money,  Go  to  amber  liquid  running  Through  our  gullets  then  we’re  funny,  Others  pretty,  us  witty,  Or  so  we  think,  quite  far  from  the  brink Our  glasses  chink,  and  we  inevitably  sink,  Into  dozen  of  games  all  involving  drink, Where  scores  of  bores  and  borderline  whores Turn  miraculously  into  soul  mates  and  more!  Of  course This  change  is  brought  about  by  nowt  but  booze.  And  so  ensues,  a  bustling  troupe  enthused,  Perpetually  amused  youths  at  best,  Not  that  I  detest,  The  crass,  inebriated  banter  which  I  address. The  evening’s  event,  entirely  spent  Between  dark  sweating  walls,  In  which  space  falls, A  throbbing  seething  roaring  mass  of  life.  Faces  lunge  at  other  faces,  hasty  embraces, A  choice  decided  -  if  not  conďŹ ded  –  by  gender  alone,  if  that. Soon  couples  ea  in  a  bleary-Âeyed  spree, Behind  closed  doors  there  are  no  laws  its  Stumbling  frantic  fumbling Â ďŹ ddling  unbutton- ing  grinding  groping—stop. ;BL ,MFJO
Prose
Above  The  City
Travelling  inland  from  the  coast  John  Prieux  noticed  a  ood  of  people  moving  fast  in  the  opposite  direction,  fear  etched  into  their  grey,  sullen  faces. “Pardon  me,â€?  John  Prieux  began,  isolat- ing  an  individual  in  the  mass  of  grey,  “but  where  are  you  all  going  in  such  a  hurry?â€? “Have  you  not  heard?â€?  the  grey  man  asked.  “There  is  a  giant  Snake  in  the  sky  over  the  city  behind  us,  and  people  say  that  to  look  upon  It  is  to  die.  That  is  why  we  are  running,  running  from  Death.â€?  With  that  the  man  hurriedly  rejoined  the  river  of  grey. “Nonsense,â€?  John  Prieux  said  to  himself.  “I  shall  go  and  have  a  look  for  myselfâ€?  John  Prieux  moved  off  toward  the  city.  Toward  the  Serpent  in  the  sky. As  he  approached  the  city,  he  heard  an  ear-Âshattering  hiss  and  he  closed  his  eyes,  so  not  to  gaze  upon  the  Snake.  The  serpent  engaged  him  in  conversation. “What  do  you  want?â€?  It  asked  in  a  cold  breathless  voice. “I  want  to  talk  to  you,  I  want  to  know  about  death  and  eternity.  I  want  knowl- edge.â€? “Come  then;Íž  talk.â€? “Why  are  you  here?  What  do  you  intend  to  do? “I  am  here  because  I  have  always  been  here.  I  am  doing  what  needs  to  be  done.â€? “Why?â€?  John  Prieux  asked. “It  is  the  way  the  world  must  beâ€?  the  Ser- pent  said  sadly, “I  do  not  understand.â€? “Of  course  you  don’t,  humans  can  not  understand  me,  I  am  above  understanding,  but  eventually  all  men  must  see  me.  Then,  and  only  then  will  they  have  ‘knowledge’.â€? Â
10
Event The
Music
Through  the  propelling  hotel  doors I  turn  to  the  motherhouse  on  the  hill, and  as  we  approach  the  green mini-Âvan,  I  can’t  make  out  faces on  the  hill,  but  only  waves  of  black and  white  –  two  of  them  bending  over in  a  sea  of  yellow  owers, one  wheelbarrowing  at  the  vegetable  garden, four  others  carrying  their  racquets,  walking  up  to  tennis  courts, a  group  of  four  walk  with  two  plain  clothed women  carrying  small  bags,  others  greet  cars  as  they  unlock  the  gate, two  I  can  see  are  kneeling  in  the  cemetery, and  I  wonder  if  the  Dominicans  will  bury  Lisa with  her  black  and  white  on,  her  asexual  body  wrapped  up  tight with  a  poverty-Âstricken  cofďŹ n,  and  her  rose  petal  rosary  clinking  like  loose  change  as  she  swings across  this  holy,  saturated and  heavy  earth.
Untitled
So  will  you.
-  Alex  Irving
Silver,  shining, It  ows  like  a  river,  twisting  and  turning  as  it  recounts  my  conicted  inner  self. It  cuts  a  gorge  down  through  the  paper  as  my  rage  intensiďŹ es. Full  stop. The  land  ruptures,  heaves  and  tumbles  in  on  itself, A  coalesced  nucleus  of  paper,  graphite  and  unfulďŹ lled  dreams, It  rolls,  lands  in  a  receptacle  amongst  others  of  its  own  kind,  and  is  forgotten. Â
Limerick
1IJMJQ 5
A  poet  -  a  verbose  young  man  -  Found  his  limericks  never  would  scan. ‘it’s  not  that  I’m  bad,’ He  said,  looking  sad, ‘It’s  simply  the  corollory  of  attempting  to  utilise  as  many  lengthy  words  within  the Â ďŹ nal  line  as  I  concievably  can.’
+PTI ,BMTDIFVS
"OPO
The  City  Has  Me  (The  Beginning) Â
You  won’t  be  invited to  the  womb  little  red  breast your  incessant c   h    i    r    p   i   n    g is  unbearable.
Haiku
The  Snakes  tone  dropped.  “Come,  look  at  me.â€? “I  don’t  understand,â€?  said  John  Prieux  as  he  closed  his  eyes  even  tighter,  “I  don’t  understand!â€? “OPEN  THEM!â€?  the  Snake  screamed;Íž  as  he  did  so  an  icy  blast  threw  John  Prieux  off  his  feet. “I’m  afraid,â€?  wailed  John  Prieux  as  tears  streamed  down  his  face.  “I  am  scared.  I  want  to  go  home,  please  let  me  go.â€? “NOW!â€?  shrieked  the  Snake  and  thunder  bellowed  and  lightning  ashed.  Then  softly  It  said,  “I  am  the  one  unavoidable  fact  of  life,  all  men  must  look  upon  me,  do  not  waste  this  moment  of  sincerest  beauty.  Come,  open  your  eyes,  it  will  be  alright.â€? Slowly  John  Prieux  opened  his  eyes  and  a  look  of  horror  came  across  his  face.  He  saw  the  thick,  black  Snake  hovering  above  the  city,  framed  by  the  blood  red  sky.  The  sun  had  burned  out  and  a  tear  had  emerged  in  the  sky,  bright  light  shining  through,  re- vealing  the  passage  to  the  other  side.  As  he  gazed  on  the  snake  he  let  out  his  last  cry, “I  understand,  O  my  God  I  see.â€?  He  saw  the  snake  and  he  died. Â
An  Unbroken  Pencil
From  The  Hotel  To  The  Motherhouse
+FOOZ "OESFT
Haikus  in  the  spring Are  easier  to  write  than Chilly  winter  ones. "OPO
Never,  or  now? The  choice. Her  voice,  keeping  my  lips  moist. It’s  the  hardest,  always  swellling, A  decision  I  can’t  help  dwelling. Eyes  of  an  angel,  body  of  perfection, But  nothing  can  show  me  the  direction, Of  the  decision,  of  the  selection.
5JN -JODF
The  city  has  me, I  can’t  let  go. I  want  all  its  sins.  Now.  Joda,  droga, Â ďŹ esta.  All  of  it. La  que  sea. Noise,  gossip,  drugs, Bright  lights  and  brighter  lies.
The  Lennon  legacy
5XFOUZ mWF ZFBST BGUFS IJT EFBUI BOE +PIO -FOOPO JT TUJMM CFJOH ESBXO GSPN UIF HSBWF 1BVM #PVHPVSE MPPLT CBDL BU UIF MJGF PG BO BSUJTU XIP HSBDFE UIF MJWFT PG TP NBOZ CZ TIBQJOH UIF WFSZ TPVM PG UIF NVTJD TDFOF UP GPMMPX IJN
I
t  would  hardly  be  expected  that  the Â ďŹ rst  thing  one  might  associ- ate  with  the  Gallagher  brothers  is  the  black  arts,  but  it  does  seem  that  reincarnation  is  the  name  of  their  game.   A  listen  to  Radio  1  in  the  past  few  weeks  would  have  given  an  insight  into  this  phe- nomenon,  speciďŹ cally  when  the  undemand- ing  “Let  There  Be  Loveâ€?  rings  out  across  the  airwaves.   Oasis,  despite  all  their  years  in  the  business,  have  not  forfeited  their  Len- non  adoration:  this  shameless  pastiche  is  just  another  stage  in  their  Beatle  admira- tion.  Not  only  that,  this  trait  is  deeply  rooted  in  the  soil  of  Britpop;Íž  even  Supergrass  ap- pear  to  have  turned  their  hand  to  said  un- godly  cause,  with  the  haunting  vocal  echo  of  the  tortured  Liverpudlian  rock  star  featured  on  new  track  “Low  Câ€?.   Yes,  John  Lennon  is  constantly  drawn  from  the  grave,  even  25  years  after  his  death. Not  content  with  musical  and  lyrical  nods  spanning  this  quarter  century,  the Â
5IF USBJU PG #FBUMF BENJSBUJPO JT TUJMM EFFQMZ SPPUFE JO UIF TPJM PG #SJUQPQ
The  city  of  whatever, La  cuidad  de  cualquiera.  I  don’t  want  it,  but  I  can’t  leave. If  I  leave  I’ll  want  it. Its  availability  is  indirectly proportionate  to  my  desire  for  it. I  like  the  idea  of  charging  up, Take  you  by  the  arm Hit  the  street,  talk  a  lot  of  shit. Maybe  dance,  set  some  city  parts  alight. Red.  Some  wine  and  love. Together  again. & . $SJTQ
work  of  this  musical  poltergeist  is  persist- ently  being  laid  out  for  public  scrutiny.   Oc- tober  saw  an  outburst  of  Lennon  material  accomanying  the  arrival  of  his  65th  birthday.   Magazine  tributes,  Top  of  the  Pops  replays  of  his  only  performance  on  that  show  (“In- stant  Karma!â€?)  and  somewhat  biased  shows  assaulting  the  apparently  malevolent  inu- ence  of  one  Yoko  Ono  all  found  their  way  out  in  2005.   Even  Cynthia  Lennon,  ex-Âwife  of  the  Beatle,  released  a  work  that  would  set  to  rights  all  the  confusion  and  contradiction  mapping  their  relationship.   And  so,  almost  upon  us  is  8th  December,  the  anniversary  of  his  murder  outside  his  hotel,  The  Dakota  building,  in  New  York  City  in  1980,  and  with  it  probably  more  than  one  radio  tribute  and  even  a  Channel  4  documentary  on  Mark  Chapman,  the  remorseless  killer. So,  one  might  ask,  why  the  endless  trudging  through  the  history  of  a  dead  man  who  was  self-Âcontradictory,  drug-Âriddled  and  violent?   John  Lennon,  by  many  accounts,  was  bitter  and  aggressive,  a  tortured  soul  who,  like  many  after  him,  scorned  his  fame  and  the  means  by  which  he  had  achieved  it.   He  neglected  his Â ďŹ rst  son,  fell  out  with  his  bandmates  (the  term  “bastardsâ€?  employed  somewhere  along  the  way)  and  at  times  re- sented  his  own  work.   But  reason  enough Â
for  the  adulation  is  encapsulated  in  the  fact  that  bands  today  pluck  the  essence  of  Len- non  from  their  inspirational  ether.   Some- how  this  introspective  artist  graced  the  life  of  so  many;Íž  the  laying  bare  of  his  agonized  existence  gave  something  to  the  world. Lennon,  born  9th  October  1940,  spent  his  childhood  mainly  with  his  Aunt  Mimi.   His  father  had  disappeared  and  his  mother  at Â ďŹ rst  had  little  to  do  with  him.   Finally,  when  it  seemed  they  had  found  reconciliation,  she  died  in  a  car  accident.   His  emotional  scars  were  buried  under  brashness  and  hostility,  or  veiled  by  comedy.   On  1964’s  Beatles  For  Sale  album  he  declared  quite  freely,  “I’m  not  what  I  appear  to  beâ€?,  in  a  song  which  told  his  listeners  that  “behind  this  mask,  I  am  wearing  a  frownâ€?.   His  negativity  slipped  by  the  focus  of  his  listeners  (who,  by  this  time,  counted  in  the  millions)  and  in  songs  as  famous  as  “Help!â€?  (initially  intended  to  be  slow  and  anguished),  a  catchy,  upbeat  tem- po  belied  a  certain  contentment.   Through- out  the  Beatle  years  John  Lennon  was  trapped  in  a  suit  and  put  on  show.   He  was  outwardly  quick-Âwitted  and  comic,  disguis- ing  his  growing  discontent  with  himself. The  magic  in  the  Beatles,  however,  could  not  be  denied.   Sergeant  Pepper,  for  start- ers,  included  Lennon  compositions  “Lucy  in  the  Sky  with  Diamondsâ€?  (not  about  LSD  but  based  on  a  picture  by  his  son)  and,  perhaps  one  of  the  greatest  Beatle  products,  a  deďŹ n- ing  psychedelic  work  entitled  “A  Day  in  the  Lifeâ€?.   Even  their  most  sprawling  album  was  a  masterpiece,  The  Beatles  (aka  The  White  Album),  featuring  the  unfathomable  “Revo- lution  9â€?  (a  mesh  of  sounds  and  shouts,  portraying  the  hubbub  of  a  revolution)  and  the  faultless  “Happiness  is  a  Warm  Gunâ€?  (a  wry  meld  of  acid-Âinduced  anecdotes  that  produce  a  comically  outrageous  sexual  met- aphor). The  Beatles,  however,  could  not  last.   Despite  blame  resting  on  a  certain  external  sway  (ahem‌  Yoko),  the  band  members,  quite  simply,  had  different  aims  for  further- ing  their  art.   The  break-Âup  was  volatile,  and  characteristic  of  the  resentment  with  which,  for  a  long  time,  Lennon  would  remember  the  group  by. Loaded  with  all  his  frustration,  Lennon’s Â ďŹ rst  solo  album,  Plastic  Ono  Band  was  raw  lament,  inspired  by  primal  scream  therapy.   The  album  opens  with  a  tormented  outburst  expressing  his  loss  and  closes  with  a  haunt- ing,  childlike  melody  about  the  death  of  his  mother,  forming,  on  the  whole,  the Â ďŹ nest  of  his  post-ÂBeatle  endeavours.   His  self-Âcon- fessedly  sugar-Âcoated  follow-Âup,  Imagine,  featured  a  bitter  attack  on  ex-Âbandmate  Paul  McCartney,  “How  Do  You  Sleep?â€?,  a  statement  about  the  impossibility  of  hiding  behind  combed  hair  and  polished  shoes  en- titled  “Crippled  Insideâ€?,  and,  of  course,  that Â
title  track. The  solo  years  suffered  soon  after,  both  with  political  messages  taking  precedence  over  musical  integrity  and  a  period  referred  to  as  his  “Lost  Weekendâ€?,  which  involved  a  separation  from  Yoko,  an  affair  (suggested  by  his  wife),  and  a  series  of  rather  public  drunken  transgressions.   This  chapter  of  his  life,  perhaps  self-Âdestruction  (possibly  his  only  freedom),  was  ended  when  Yoko  said  she  wanted  him  back.   He  complied,  and  soon  after  she  became  pregnant.   Lennon  receded  from  public  attention  to  become  a  house-Âhusband  and  raise  his  son. Lennon’s  return  to  the  music  scene  would  be  his  death-Âknell.   1980’s  Double  Fantasy  was  an  album  of  half-ÂLennon,  half- Yoko  material,  and,  on  his  part,  was  an  ex- pression  of  the  joys  of  family  life,  an  entirely  altered  world-Âview  from  his  bleak  artistic  beginnings.   The  album  was  slated  by  NME,  with  indignant  attacks  on  Lennon’s  repu- tation  as  the  edgy  Beatle.   These  reviews  ignored,  for  instance,  the  wit  of  singing  a  song  called  (and  about)  “Starting  Overâ€?  in  the  style  of  Elvis  Presley,  a  reversion  to  erst- while  ways. The  criticisms  stretched  to  the  fans,  and,  fatally,  the  obsessed.   Mark  Chapman,  an  infatuated  Lennon  fan  living  in  Hono- lulu,  took  objection  to  the  rock  luminary’s  new  direction.   Chapman,  who  had  posi- tively  consumed  J.D.Sallinger’s  The  Catch- er  in  the  Rye  and  concluded  that  Lennon  was,  in  the  terms  of  the  book’s  protagonist  Holden  CaulďŹ eld,  a  “phoneyâ€?,  resolved  that Â
he  would  kill  the  rock  icon.   After  signing  out  of  work  (under  the  name  “John  Lennonâ€?),  he  travelled  to  New  York  and  called  his  wife  to  tell  her  what  he  was  going  to  do. On  8th  December,  on  the  way  to  the  re- cording  studio  to  work  on  his  next  album  (an- other  collaborative  work  with  Yoko),  Lennon  met  Chapman  and  signed  a  copy  of  Double  Fantasy.   After  the  recording  session  Lennon  arrived  back  at  The  Dakota.   Chapman,  who  had  been  waiting,  called  to  him,  and,  pulling  a  combat  pose  and  taking  out  a  gun,  shot Â ďŹ ve  times.   Chapman  waited  patiently  for  the  police,  reading  The  Catcher  in  the  Rye,  while  John  Lennon  died. In  death  John  Lennon  has  become  some- thing  of  an  enigma.   A  cynic,  a  peace-Âcam- paigner,  a  musician;Íž  he  was  the  archetype  of  the  rock  lifestyle  led  by  so  many  after  him.   Perhaps  the  level  of  appreciation  has  been  heightened  by  his  shocking  murder,  perhaps  without  it  he  would  not  be  viewed  as  the Â ďŹ rm  leviathan  in  the  cause  of  popular  music.   The  haunting  nature  his  songs  have  adopted  in  this  context  might  be  what  makes  them  so  ef- fective  today.   His  resurrection,  in  its  manifold  forms,  may  be  due  solely  to  this  assassina- tion  factor,  that  the  artist  becomes  larger  than  life  only  in  death.   It  surely  does  combine  to  augment  this  immense  spectre  but  it  is  not  essential  in  valuing  his  work.   Of  utmost  im- portance  in  this  Lennon  regurgitation,  on  the  anniversary  of  his  death,  is  the  chance  to  hear  again  the  miraculous  musical  achievements  that  truly  made  the  man  into  the  legend  we  now  perceive.
Event 11 The
Music
Alkaline Trio -$3
Hours and hours before doors open, avid Alkaline Trio fans are queuing, tins of lager in hand. They appear to be up for a night of mad, macabre revelry. Which is a shame for them, because The Bravery resembling opening act Sunshine fail to raise the audience at all. The Czech dance-prog-rocker’s songs are greeted with a murmur at best, and rarely has an attempt at being so outlandish been so boring. It’s not that they are bad, they are just nothing. The music merely pulses and fails to go anywhere in particular. Solo acous- tic act Mike Park however, receives a spectacular reception. During his songs, the crowd listen intently, before exploding into rapturous applause. Breathtakingly, with sweet lyrics such as ‘The world is a blue marble, and I’d like to share it with you’, Park’s anti-racism tunes have the crowd welling up, and his personal admissions between songs captivate. A projected film accompanies his set, giving visuals to the truly heartfelt and didactic songs that he sings, which YOU need to hear. With crimson curtains, and satanic red lights, Alkaline Trio takes the stage, but front man Matt Skiba has a heavy cold, one that nearly caused a cancellation. Looking more like Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer than the dark-lord, Skiba and his band instantly pummels out their popular brand of dark-yet-sugary-punk-pop with no nonsense, and the whole of the floor is sent into a violent fervour with devil horns widely thrown in the air. Strangely though, the band seems
Off the Record
5IBU "XBSET 5PVS
The NME Awards Tour next February has been a little bit of a sell-out already. How ironic that a magazine which, on the surface, attempts to bring the masses real music against the grain of sell-out popstars has become a sell-out in the more literal sense. The queues last Wednesday were phenomenal, especially considering that the headliners, Arctic Monkeys, appeared at the rather more modest venue of the Waterfront without much of a fuss about a month ago. But the people in the know have said jump, and we’ve said “how high?”. Maximo Park have been hovering on the sidelines for a while now waiting for NMEs unbridled endorsements, they already have a pretty respectable fan base, like most bands of their calibre but it is almost assured that by next year they will be far bigger. A year ago concrete recieved a complaint from a fan because a live review of the NME awards tour spent too long proclaiming The Killers and not enough on the, then virtually unheard of, Kaiser Chiefs and Bloc Party. Since that tour these two bands have achieved overwhelming successes, especially the former. One cant help thinking that they were manufac- tured and raised up onto a platform, cutting out the middle ground of slow gained fame, to end up playing the same songs on our TVs and radios as if they were reincarnations of the Beatles. No disrespect to these bands who have been able to pen some decent tunes and redefine rock and roll but when it comes down to it the majority of current fans are the same fickle trend followers that NME has set out to disclaim. All four of the bands playing next February are about to have the year of there lives and it is very unfortunate that it might all be over thereafter. It is common knowledge that rock is pop nowadays and if its what people want to buy it will no doubt be sold at the price of authenticity and sincerity. $IBSMFT 3VNTFZ
12
Event The
lacklustre, almost like they are going through a chore. It also becomes depressingly apparent that are too many filler songs in this set but it does give the crowd a breather be- tween the awe inspiring punk anthems from their extensive repertoire which cause the engaged crowd to erupt into a swarm of thundering adolescents, which although for the wrong reasons is good thing. People may have started to pass out otherwise. Despite the lack of passion, the Alkaline Trio’s masterpieces, such as ‘Private eye’, ‘Radio’ and ‘Time to waste’ carry the set, although they do not play the classic song from their heyday ‘Stupid kid’, to much annoyance of the students wanting a reminder of their pop punk days. They are a tight act, and beef up some of the songs with a second guitarist, along with drummer Derek Grant’s excel- lent pounding. Grant is one of the few drummers around today that really adds something to his bands sound, using complicated and rousing beats. There are a lot of dedicated fans tonight who are merely happy to see their idols, it was like a the entire audience was embracing their old friends. But, though it have been because of an extensive nightly tour schedule, the band re- ally should have put in more effort for the money people splashed out on tickets. "OESFX 3JMFZ
Live Gigs Mono
/PSXJDI "SUT $FOUSF At the exquisite Norwich Arts Centre this evening, less defi- nitely seems to be more. For the princely sum of six pounds, we are treated to three acts which defy convention, classifica- tion, and quite frequently belief. Norwich based quartet Sennen are the first to take the stage, playing a short but powerful set that is by turns extremely loud and extremely tuneful. Their music, minimalist in its ap- proach, harks back to the early 90s drone-rock of bands like My Bloody Valentine and The Jesus and Mary Chain, and is a truly refreshing display of talent. The band are offset mar- vellously by three teenage girls go-go dancing in front of the stage - perhaps the most ironically inappropriate, although strangely enjoyable, spectacle the Event has witnessed at such a gig. From the melodic noise of Sennen, things take a turn into leftfield for the one-man-musical-army that is World’s End Girlfriend. Producer of fellow Japanese headliners Mono, WEG sits nonchalant behind an arsenal of mixing desks, effects pedals and noise-machines of the craziest variety, thrashing an electric guitar as if his life depended on it. The output, as difficult to classify as anything on display tonight, is little short of mesmerizing. The seamless infusion of fast and slow melodies, delicacy with brutal heaviness, is a con- current theme amongst tonight’s artists, but it is one that only Mono truly perfect. It must be said that those in the audience hankering for a full on, fireworks-and-guitar-solos laden rock show would have been better off elsewhere tonight. Often described as “the soundtrack to the end of the world,” Mono truly demon- strate the notion of beauty in simplicity. Vocals? Who needs ‘em. The majestic scale of Mono’s art-noise does all the talk- ing you could ever hope for. Their musicianship is watertight
and often blisteringly intense. The sheer volume of the band verges at times on the painful. But all in all, Mono’s set is a thing of wild and untamed beauty. As a band they boast an impressive symphony of sound in spite of their relatively small line-up. In fact this allows them to play with a delicacy and precision that becomes truly inspiring musicianship. Unfortunately they may never appear on our shores again, but for this one brief and brilliant moment, Mono have taken guitar-based music to a higher place. 4JNPO (SJGmUIT
Music
Singles 0BTJT -FU 5IFSF #F -PWF
Let  There  Be  Love  represents  the  Gallagher  brothers’  latest  attempt  to  pin  down  senti- mentality,  something  they  have  not  achieved  since  the  seminal  Champagne  Supernova,  the  emphatic Â ďŹ nale  to  the  canonic  (What’s  The  Story)  Morning  Glory?   Stop  Crying  Your  Heart  Out  came  close  but  lacked  the  depth  required  for  it  to  endure  like  ‘Supernova’,  and  as  a  result  became  the  self-Âpity  anthem  for  football  fans  across  the  nation  follow- ing  disappointment  at  the  2002  World  Cup.  Unfortunately  for  Oasis  fans  the  new  single  looks  destined  to  lead  a  similar  life  of  being  outlandishly  bellowed  by  lager  lashed  middle  aged  men.  Filled  with  love-Âsong  clichĂŠ,  deliv- ered  in  the  familiar  northern  slur,  the  single  is  far  ung  from  any  ideas  of  Cigarettes  and  Alcohol.  In  fact,  it  epitomises  everything  that  the  brash,  attitude Â ďŹ lled  Live  Forever  seemed  to  stand  against,  more  than  a  decade  ago.   Despite  it  being  another  quality  tune  which  will  no  doubt  be  much  appreciated  by  the  clearly  deďŹ ned  class  of  fans  Liam  and  Noel’s  revived  attitude,  as  well  as  this  artiďŹ cial  out- pour  of  emotion  seem  all  too  laboured. ,FMWJO ,OJHIU
.ZTUFSZ +FUT "MBT "HOVT
Mystery  Jets  are  one  of  the  many  bands  tipped  by  the  music  press  to  hit  it  big  next  year.  On  the  strength  of  this  single,  they  truly  deserve  to.  Listening  to  the  three  tracks  here,  their  inuences  are  striking.  Early  Supergrass  is  a  clear  favourite  with  the  band  –  the  style  of  all  three  songs  are  similar  to  various  tracks  from  Supergrass’ Â ďŹ rst  two  albums,  with  sing- er  Blaine  Harrison  sounding  eerily  similar  to  Gaz  Coombes  at  times.  Alas  Agnes  is  a  Lib- ertines  style  rock  stomp,  right  down  to  the Â
drumming  style  and  minimalist  guitars,  with  a  strange  chorus  that  eschews  all  that  for  an  organ  and  the  band  chanting  “Alas,  oh  Agnes,  I  still  adore  youâ€?,  which  then  melts  into  a  combination  of  instruments  from  each  part  of  the  song.  These  two  completely  dissimilar  styles  of  music  make  the  song  that  little  bit  more  interesting  and  memorable.  On  top  of  this  excellent  song,  we  also  get  Electric  Fire,  a  relaxing  acoustic  song  interestingly  featur- ing  the  group  doing  their  best  barbershop  quartet  impression,  and  The  Last  Bench,  a  melancholic  song  with  an  unforgettable  cho- rus.  This  is  a  deďŹ nite  recommendation  and  it  will  be  worth  seeing  if  the  Mystery  Jets  can  entertain  a  packed  LCR  on  the  sold-Âout  and  highly  anticipated  NME  Awards  Tour  in  Feb- ruary  with  their  unique  style  of  music. $ISJT )ZEF
(JSM 4DIPPM &NFSHFODZ
OK,  bands  reforming  is  generally  not  the  best  of  ideas;Íž  you  need  a  fan  base  still  wor- thy  to  dip  into  their  back  pockets  for  you,  music  which  still  holds  some  relevance,  and  tunes  that  still  sound  as  good  as  they  did  back  in  the  day.  The  Pixies,  after  reform- ing  recently  to  an  array  of  anticipation,  are  a  shining  example  of  a  band  still  worthy  of  the  status  they  held  15  years  ago.  But  just  be- cause  The  Pixies  et  al  can  pull  it  off,  does  not  give  other  middle-Âaged  crooners  an  excuse  to  thwart  their  mid-Âlife  crises  upon  others;Íž  which,  on  this  note,  brings  us  to  our  subject,  Girlschool.  This  double  a-Âside  marks  a  25th  anniversary  of  something  which  still  remains  quite  a  mystery  to  anyone.  The Â ďŹ rst  track  Emergency  actually  begins  with  promise,  an  old  school  Distillers/Brody  Dalle  immediately  springs  to  mind  then  however,  we  reach  the  chorus.  It  just  reminds  you  of  those  times  when  em- barrassment  becomes  death-Âdefying  (imag- ine  your  mum  and  three  of  her  friends  start- ing  a  ‘punk’  band  and  I  think  you’re  there).  So  seminal  resurrection?  No.  Pointless  at- tempt  to  tap  into  an  obsolete  audience?  Yes.  Oh  yeah,  the  other  track’s  rubbish  as  well.  (SFH 4VMMJWBO
What’s  On Wednesday  7/12/05
%+ 'PSNBU PUIFST 8pm  Waterfront
b
Thursday  8/12/05
#BE .BOOFST b BEW 7.30pm  Waterfront 5JGU .FSSJU b BEW 8.30pm  Norwich  Arts  Centre
Friday  9/12/05
)VNBO -FBHVF b BEW 7.30pm  LCR 3BXLVT -JWF 9NBT 4QFDJBM b 7.30pm  Waterfront #BOUBOBJ .BSJNCB b BEW 8.30pm  Norwich  Arts  Centre
Saturday  10/12/05
'BJUI 1PSUFS PUIFST GSFF 1pm  Norwich  Arts  Centre 5IF /FVUSJOPT b BEW 8.30pm  Norwich  Arts  Centre 'MJSU OJHIU b BEW 10pm  LCR .FMUEPXO b PO UIF EPPS 10pm  Waterfront
Sunday  11/12/05
/FWJMMF 4UBQMF b BEW 7pm  Waterfront 1VC 2VJ[ 7.30pm  Union  Pub .FSSZ 9NBT &WFSZCPEZ 5PVS 4MBEF .VE 5 3FYTUBTZ b 7pm  LCR
&EJUPST .VOJDI
On  paper,  this  single,  indeed  this  band  as  a  whole,  should  be  top  class.  Wailing  guitars,  foot-Âtappingly  irresistible  beats,  all  topped  off  with  powerful  yet  startlingly  personal  vo- cals.  Sounds  like  it  should  be  great,  so  why  isn’t  it? Quite  bluntly,  its  all  been  done  before.  In  fair- ness  to  them,  Editors  are  not  the  only  band  on  the  scene  that  bear  a  more  than  passing  resemblance  to  Joy  Division,  but  as  is  often  the  case  there  are  numerous  acts  who  do  it  so  much  better  than  they.  Truth  be  told,  the  Editors’  take  on  the  song-Âwriting  style  of  Ian  Curtis  is  virtually  indistinguishable  from  that  of  Interpol,  as  are  the  band’s  sound  and  im- age.  But  where  Interpol  succeed  -  with,  it  must  be  added,  quite  remarkable  aplomb  -  Editors,  sadly,  fail.  The  late  Mr  Curtis  would  most  likely  be  un- impressed  by  this  ultimately  weak  effort. 4JNPO (SJGmUIT
has  a  Mansonesque  quality  to  it,  that  in  my  opinion  is  not  a  bad  thing.  The  dark  melan- cholic  lyrics  in  contrast  with  the  upbeat  tem- po  of  the  song  has  ambiguity  which  creates  enigma  that  you  can’t  help  but  warm  to.  )PMMZ 8BUUF
5IF 4VCXBZT /P (PPECZFT
The  joyous  and  memorable  pop  of  The  Subways  is  very  welcome  in  the  otherwise  dreary  indie  scene  but  one  problem  still  re- mains;Íž  they  really  need  to Â ďŹ nd  their  own  style  niche.   No  Goodbyes  proves,  in  not  just  the  title,  that  the  talent  and  charisma  they  pos- sess  will  take  them  far  past  their  debut  al- bum  Young  For  Eternity.   The  single  itself  is  once  again  a  pure  example  of  psychedelia,  a  sweet  strumming  beat  ballad  of  charming  class,  they  seem  to  sound  far  better  when  the  songs  have  pace  and  rhythm.   In  gen- eral  The  Subways  seem  to  have  successfully  broken  through  the  ranks  of  unknown  artists  and  have  proved  this  year  that  their  explosive  punk  rock  sonnets  are  also  a  live  success.   With  a  little  bit  more  individuality  and  per- sonalised  aplomb  The  Subways  will  become  deserved  leaders  of  the  indie  scene. $IFTUFS 'JFME
4UBSTBJMPS 5IJT 5JNF %FQFDIF .PEF " 1BJO 5IBU * N 6TFE 5P
Taken  from  their  long  awaited  eleventh  al- bum  Playing  The  Angel,  Depeche  Mode’s  A  Pain  That  I’m  Used  To  maintains  much  of  the  innovative  synth  rock  sounds  that  the  band  began  with  in  the  1980’s.   However,  it  is  possibly  even  more  relevant  to  today’s  Brit- ish  music  scene  with  the  likes  of  Goldfrapp  (also  signed  to  mute  records)  paralleling  this  electronic  sound,  further  emphasised  in  the  crystalline  lyrics  of  both  bands. This  is  a  strong  comeback  single  as  the  ini- tial  wailing  sirens  and  subtle  guitars  of  the  introduction  are  sure  to  intrigue  and  awaken  anyone’s  senses.  I  can’t  help  but  feel  that  the  hypnotic  but  pulsating  sound  of  the  chorus Â
Monday  12/12/05
3VGVT 8BJOXSJHIU b 7.30pm  LCR
Tuesday  13/12/05
0SFOEB 'JOL b BEW 7.30pm  Norwich  Arts  Centre -BTU $IBODF -$3 b BEW 10pm  LCR
Wednesday  14/12/05
-FWFMMFST b BEW 7.30pm  LCR -JNFIPVTF -J[[Z b BEW 7.30pm  Waterfront -F 5FUTVP PUIFST b BEW 8pm  Norwich  Arts  Centre
The  outstanding  live  performance  at  the  LCR  two  weeks  ago  demonstrated  that  Starsailor  are  living  up  to  their  reputation  of  cramming  origional  and  chirpy  sounds  into  songs  about  real  life.   Perfect  for  beer  fueled  singalongs  for  young  romantics  without  the  painful  irony  of  other  artrock  groups.   Although  Starsailor  have  followed  the  overplayed  route  of  clini- cal  soulbearing  they  can  capture  the  senses  through  their  diverse  use  of  sound  and  art- istry  to  turn  standard  white  bread  into  catchy  healthy  mighty  white.   The  negative  point  is  that  you  have  to  appreciate  Starsailor  to  not Â ďŹ nd  the  music  so  bland,  emotion  over  dilutes  indie  so  there  is  a Â ďŹ ne  line  between  quality  genuine  heartbreakers  and  joyless  apathy.   Starsailor  are  halfway  there.
Thursday  15/12/05
-FF (PSEPO PUIFST b BEW 7.30pm  Waterfront %BQIOF 4BEFI BOE UIF 7PZBHFST b 8.30pm  Norwich  Arts  Centre 9NBT -$3 5#$ 10pm  LCR
Friday  16/12/05
"MVNOJ 9NBT -$3 5#$ BEW 9.30pm  LCR T OJHIU b PO UIF EPPS 10pm  Waterfront
Do  you  want  to  place  a  listing? Contact:  concrete.event@uea.ac.uk
Event 13 The
Film
Main  Feature
Bee  Season
%JS 4DPUU .D(FIFF %BWJE 4JFHFM 3FMFBTF %BUF
Based  on  the  best-Âselling  novel  by  Myla  Goldberg,  Bee  Sea- son  is  a  family  drama  following  11-Âyear-Âold  Eliza  Naumann’s  (Flora  Cross)  progress  through  the  national  Spelling  Bee  Competition.  On Â ďŹ rst  considerations  the Â ďŹ lm  appears  to  be  a  big-Âbudget,  Disney-Âfunded  family  drama  that  would  be  quite  at  home  in  the  BBC  Christmas  scheduling.  From  the  start  you  brace  yourself  for  a  clichĂŠd,  nauseatingly  ideal  presentation  of  American  family  life.  Looking  at  the  talent  behind  this Â ďŹ lm  it  isn’t  surprising  that  things  are  not  that  simple.  The Â ďŹ lm  JT  a  family  drama  that  follows  Eliza’s  rise  to  the  Spelling  Bee  nationals,  but  it  is  also  a Â ďŹ lm  about  a  mar- riage  in  collapse,  Jewish  mysticism,  and  the  individual’s Â
quest  to  become  whole.  Not  only  that,  the Â ďŹ lm  also  deals  with  mental  illness  and  the  struggle  to  uphold  a  family  unit.  This  is  the  key  problem  of  the Â ďŹ lm:  that  it  cannot  realise  what  it  is  and  so  its  between  each  aspect  of  the  plot. The  religious  aspect  to  the Â ďŹ lm  is  surprising.  Theolo- gian  Saul  Naumann  (Richard  Gere)  explains  to  us  that  it  is  the  individual’s  quest  in  life  to  bring  the  fragments  of  the  universe  together  in  order  to  understand  God  better.  The Â ďŹ lm  shows  all  members  of  the  family  struggling  with  this  quest  in  different  ways.  Son  Aaron  (Max  Minghella)  discov- ers  Buddhism  thanks  to  a  chance  meeting  with  Chali  (Kate  Bosworth),  whereas  mother  Miriam  (Juliette  Binoche)  does Â
this  more  literally  as  an  extension  of  an  Obsessive  Com- pulsive  Disorder  that  manifests  itself  in  Kleptomania.  The  principle  plot-Âline  in  this  is  Saul’s  controlling  coaching  of  Eliza  in  the  Spelling  Bee  Competition  and  his  belief  that  she  can  understand  the  intricacies  of  Jewish  Mysticism  through  her  unusual  grasp  of  language  and  words.  The  acting  in  the Â ďŹ lm  is  commendable;Íž  however  all  the  characters  feel  under-Âdeveloped  and  overshadowed  in  wake  of  Richard  Gere’s  performance.  Gere’s  character  is  a  con- trolling  one,  and  despite  his  best  intentions  he  is  unable  to  give  every  member  of  his  family  room  to  grow  individually.  Gere  does  this  very  effectively,  not  because  of  his  immense  acting  skills  but  because  you  can’t  help  but  consider  that  this  is  Richard  Gere  just  being  himself.  There  is  a  repulsive  smugness  in  Gere’s  performance  that  feels  like  a  religious  sermon.  I  was  left  questioning  Gere’s  motives  for  making  the Â ďŹ lm,  where  he  spends  his  time  revelling  in  being  intel- lectually  superior.  The  other  central  characters  managed  to  hold  the  audience’s  sympathies  through  their  excellent  performances;Íž  however  you  can’t  help  but  feel  that  they  are  over-Âsensitive  to  their  father’s Â ďŹ ckle  nature.  The Â ďŹ lm  is  highly  unusual  in  its  dealings  with  complex  religious  ideals,  which  is  a  compelling  theme  throughout  and  would  have  beneďŹ ted  from  being  the  sole  plot.  The Â ďŹ lm  is  too  fragmented  and  the  interesting  story  suffers  because  of  this.  Despite  the  key  theme  of  the Â ďŹ lm  being  a  desire  to  take  the  fragments  of  the  universe  and  make  it  whole,  the Â ďŹ lm  itself  is  unable  to  take  the  fragments  of  plot  and  effec- tively  fuse  them  together.  The  resulting Â ďŹ lm  is Â ďŹ rmly  discon- nected  and  void  of  the  passion  needed  to  alert  the  audience  to  the Â ďŹ lm’s  intellectual  tone  –  which  is  the  one  thing  that  transcends  its  sugar-Âsweet  appearance.  -ZEJB .PTTBIFCJ
Five  Great:  Snow  Scenes  Unique  among  extreme  and  very  cold  weath- er  types,  snow  is  eternally  romanticised  in  western  mass  culture,  owing  to  its  asso- ciation  with  Christmas  and  its  benevolent,  school-Âclosing  power.  But  if  White  Christ- mas  makes  for  an  especially  enduring  snow- image,  it’s  not  the  cinema’s  only  one.  Here  are Â ďŹ ve  scenes  that Â ďŹ nd  a  darker  side  to  the  white  stuff.  5IF TOPXCBMM mHIU -F 4BOH E VO QPFUF +FBO $PDUFBV The  third  episode  of  Cocteau’s  renowned  Surrealist-ÂExpressionist  classic Â ďŹ nds  a  group  of  children  engaged  in  a  snowball Â ďŹ ght.  Like  all  the  1920s  Surrealist Â ďŹ lms,  Le  Sang  d’un  poete  means  to  uncover  the  twin  drives  of  death  and  desire  at  work  in  even  the  most  everyday  situations;Íž  here  the  schoolboys’  game  ends  fatally  as  one  of  the  boys  is  killed  by  a  stone-Âcentred  snowball.  His  chum  stands  over  the  battered  body  and  sticks  his  tongue  out  in  a  typically  indelible  Cocteau Â
14
Event The
image.  Incidentally,  the  other  great  Surreal- ist Â ďŹ lm  of  1930,  L’Age  d’Or,  also  included  a  snow  scene  –  a  climactic  blizzard  featuring  a  cruciďŹ x  hung  with  the  scalps  of  Christ’s  mur- der  victims.  It’s  never  going  to  trouble  It’s  a  Wonderful  Life’s  Christmas-Âfavourite  status.  A3PTFCVE $JUJ[FO ,BOF 0STPO 8FMMFT
A  urry  of  snow,  a  cottage  –  all  inside  a  snowglobe  –  and  the  dying  word  of  Charles  Foster  Kane:  ‘Rosebud’.  The  rest  of  Citizen  Kane  is  concerned  with  unlocking  the  rose- bud  riddle,  and  Orson  Welles’s  epic  remains  brilliant  to  the  end,  but  nothing  in  the Â ďŹ lm  matches  this  early  moment  for  delirious,  po- etic  intensity.     4IPPUPVU JO B CMJ[[BSE .D$BCF .ST .JMMFS 3PCFSU "MUNBO
Set  in  a  snowy  Old  West  winter,  Altman’s  dazzling  revisionist  western  culminates  in  a  three-Âway  duel  played  out  on  a  snowdrift.  Our Â
hero,  wannabe  lone  ranger  McCabe  (Warren  Beatty  in Â ďŹ ne  form), Â ďŹ nally  triumphs  at  tragic  cost.  The  blizzard  rages,  wind  whistles  end- lessly,  and  the  snow  slowly  covers  McCabe’s  body  to  the  tones  of  Leonard  Cohen:  ‘Well  I  lived  with  a  child  of  snow,  when  I  was  a  sol- dier;Íž  and  I  fought  every  man  for  her,  until  the  nights  grew  colder.’ .JOOFTPUB 'BSHP +PFM $PFO Fargo’s  deadpan  verbal  humour Â ďŹ nds  its  perfect  visual  counterpart  in  the  vast  snow- drifts  that  stretch  across  the  Minnesotan  landscape,  blank  and  unchanging  as  the  violent  noir  story  unfolds  around  them.  Des- perate  to  keep  the  same  blinding-Âwhite  qual- ity  for  all  the  exterior  snow-Âset  scenes,  the  Coen  brothers  were  forced  to  keep  moving  through  locations  –  including  Minnesota,  North  Dakota,  and  Canada  –  in  order  to  stay  one  step  ahead  of  the  spring  sun  that  would  thaw  the  snow.   Â
5IF NB[F QVSTVJU 5IF 4IJOJOH 4UBOMFZ ,VCSJDL
The Â ďŹ nal,  dreamlike  chase  through  the  lefts  and  rights  of  the  Overlook  maze,  smothered  with  snow  and  mist,  ranks  as  one  of  horror’s  most  chilling Â ďŹ nales.  Dad  Jack  Torrence  (Jack  Nicholson,  below)  hobbles  after  Danny  with  his  axe,  following  the  footprints  in  the  snow;Íž  but  Danny’s  hide-Âand-Âseek  masterstroke  (he  treads  backwards  through  his  own  foot- prints)  leaves  his  monstrous  father  lost  and  confused,  doomed  to  a  terrible  icy  end. 4FC .BOMFZ
Film
Mystery  Men
8IFSF UIF 5SVUI -JFT "UPN &HPZBO T UZQJDBMMZ JOUSJDBUF OPJS NZTUFSZ IBT HBSOFSFE SBWF SF WJFXT GSPN DSJUJDT GPS JUT TFU PG BSSFTUJOH QFSGPSNBODFT BOE TUBSUMJOH EBSL FYQMPSBUJPO PG UIF XPSME PG T "NFSJDBO TIPXCJ[ $MBJSF $BSUFS DFMFCSBUFT B SJEEMF XJUIPVU B TPMVUJPO
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he  plot  of  Where  the  Truth  Lies  is  pretty  confusing:  Firth  and  Bacon  play  a  double  act  (loosely  based  on  Dean  Martin  and  Jerry  Lewis)  who  have  ‘risen’  through  the  world  of  cabaret  and  club  acts  to  the  point  of  voyeuristic  telethons.  After  their  most  successful  TV  broadcast  where  a  young  girl  with  polio  practically  deiďŹ es  them,  a  dead  woman  is  discovered  in  their  hotel  room.  They  break  up,  and  never  speak  again.  Flash  forward  (or  back,  a  common  device,  time  in  this Â ďŹ lm  is  an  irritating  issue)  and  a  journal- ist  is  attempting  to  discover  the  conspiracy  behind  it  all,  while  ghost  writing  Firth’s  biog- raphy  and  being  seduced  by  Bacon,  though  her  real  identity  is  unknown  to  both,  being  the  very  same  polio  girl  from  their  glory  days.  Lohman  actually  plays  her  childhood  self,  emphasizing  the  rather  creepy  sexual  tone  of  the Â ďŹ lm,  which  Egoyan  recognizes  as  a  common  theme  in  his  work:  predatory  male Â ďŹ gures  and  the  parental  elements  to  their  sexual  relationships. The  screenplay  is  based  on  the  novel  by  Robert  Holmes,  inspired  by  the  split  of  compare  duo  Dean  Martin  and  Jerry  Lewis,  and  the  author’s  subsequent  curiosity: ‘What  causes  people  who  like  each  oth- er;Íž  who  are  inseparable,  bonded  like  broth- ers,  to  become  totally  alienated  with  each  other,  to  the  point  of  never  speaking  again?  Then  my  mind  started  to  wonder:  what  would  cause  something  like  that?â€? The  answer,  thematically,  appears  to  be  sex.  The Â ďŹ lm  has  some  compelling  im- ages,  which  are  usually  sexual,  though  this  was  unusually  defended  by  the  actors;Íž  Firth  railed  at  US  journalists  as  the Â ďŹ lm  received  the  dreaded  r17  rating  for  their  appetite  for  violence  but  relative  prudishness.  Holmes  says  he  realized  he  was  writing  an  Alice  in  Wonderland  for  grownups,  as  Lohams  char- acter  wonders  wide  eyed  through  a  world  of  celebrity,  and  this  idea  is  encapsulated  by  Firth’s  seduction  -  he  feeds  her  a  little  pill,  then  photographs  her  receiving  cunninglin- gus  from  a  girl  dressed  as  Alice  in  Wonder- land...  strange  minds.  However,  this  and  other  scenes  are  effective  in  the  dream-Âlike,  fateful  coincidence  of  the Â ďŹ lm,  which  gives  a  seriousness  of  consequence  to  the  trashy  world  the  pair  inhabit.  We  see  the  mother  of  the  dead  girl  underneath  the  tree  were  her  ashes  were  buried.  Though  the  plot  is  therefore  dangerously  wide-Âranging  and  scattered  I  found  it  difďŹ cult  to  be  as  cynical  as  most  critics  simply  because  I  was  quite  mesmerized  -  generally  by  the  costumes,  especially  Bacon  and  Firth’s  transformation  from  50s  icons  to  70s,  along  has-Âbeens;Íž  their  moustache  dressers  must  have  been  fantastic! For  me  the  most  interesting  part  of  the Â ďŹ lm  is  the  relationship  between  Firth  and  Bacon,  as  actors  a  surprising  pairing. Â
When  the Â ďŹ lm  was  being  shot,  Firth  was  in  the  midst  of  the  Bridget  Jones  furore,  and  so  produces  a  decidedly  dedicated  perform- ance  here.  Bacon  is,  as  Egoyan  comments,  a  reliably  dab-Âhanded  actor  -  much  of  the  show  team  act  was  improvised  between  them,  Bacon  introducing  a  canny  butt  wig- gle  in  one  scene.  The Â ďŹ lm  has  an  interesting Â
&HPZBO IBT BHBJO QSPWJEFE IJT BVEJ FODF XJUI B QMBZ PG HFOSF UIBU JT VO DPNGPUBCMZ JNQPT TJCMF UP DPODMVEF perspective  on  the  old  responsibility  of  the  celebrity:  ‘the  hardest  thing  in  the  world  is  to  be  a  nice  guy  when  your  not’  (Bacon),very Â
different  from  our  Heat  cartoons  today.  However  ‘behind  the  scenes’,  Firth  bludg- eons  an  audience  member  for  insulting  his  partner,  having  suggested  some  ‘participa- tion’,  and  the  pair’s  quite  carnal  appetites  compete  with  the  journalistic  myths  of  Colin  Farrel  with  which  we  are  all  familiar.  It  would  have  been  interesting  to  see  how  more  con- troversially  known  actors  coped  with  play- ing  such  dichotomies. The  screening  at  the  LFF  had  a  director’s  talk  following  the  screening.  Such  question  times  promise  a  frantic  opportunity  to  ask  clever  questions  to  solve  cryptic  (or  badly Â ďŹ lmed)  elements  of  features.  However  the  rush  to  form  probing  questions  usually  re- sults  in  embarrassing  ‘was  the  lesbian  scene  real’  etc.  for  lack  of  anything  better  to  say.  (And  apparently‌)  it  is  telling  that  most  of  the  questions  asked  were  either  relating  to  the  cinematography  or  the  real  celebrities  of  the Â ďŹ lm.  Everyone  appeared  to  want  to  leave  the  problems  of  the  plot  well  alone.  Though  this Â ďŹ lm  is  supposedly  more  mainstream  than  any  of  his  previous  works,  the  narrative  is  again  complexly  layered,  and  so  here  is  at Â
times  superuous  to  the  perceived  ‘point’  of  the Â ďŹ lm.  He  said,  ‘think  that  the  main  thing  is  to  identify  what  moves  you  about  the  story,  and  to  also  give  yourself  the  license  to  refor- mat  or  to  maybe  enhance  certain  aspects  that  you  think  will  really  identify  those  themes.  In  this  case,  this  idea  of  our  relationship  to  ce- lebrity  and  how  we  both  admire  but  also  want  to  expose  the  real  person’.  This  does  come  across,  though  some  viewers  will  be  left  wondering  if  anyone  in  the Â ďŹ lm  was  real‌  The  cinematography  is  also  still  decidedly  art  house  (at  times  a  little  too  patronizingly  symbolic),  the  obvious  noir  direction  due  to  the  director’s  personal  interest  in  such Â ďŹ lms.  He  spoke  about  Hitchcock  frequently  and  the  style  of  this Â ďŹ lm  appears  to  be  its  substance.  Nonetheless  this  creates  an  affecting  thriller;Íž  the Â ďŹ nal  image  of  Lohman  in  an  empty  stu- dio  back-Âlot  is  open  is  various  interpretation  other  than  that  in  the  narrative,  and  so  Egoyan  has  again  provided  his  audience  with  a  play  of  genre  that  it  is  uncomfortably  impossible  to  conclude.  So  recommended,  even  if  you  just  want  to  look  at  Lohmans  white  catsuit  outďŹ ts.
Event 15 The
Film
Pretty  Picture 3PC .BSTIBMM T .FNPJST PG B (FJTIB UBLFT BOPUIFS TUFQ JO UIF XFTUFSOJTBUJPO PG "TJBO DJO FNB TUBHJOH EJBMPHVF FOUJSFMZ JO &OHMJTI #VU XJMM UIF DPOUSPWFTZ CF PWFSTIBEPXFE CZ UIF mMN T WJTVBM BDIJFWFNFOUT .JLF $VNFT SFQPSUT PO UIF mMN BOE DBTU QSFTT DPOGFSFODF
I
sn’t  it  strange  how Â ďŹ ckle  cinema  is  with  regards  to  the  Far  East.  Six  years  ago  (before  the  release  of  Ang  Lee’s  Crouch- ing  Tiger,  Hidden  Dragon)  the  majority  of  the  cinema-Âgoing  public  would  have  been  hard  pressed  to  remember  the  names  of  any  Chinese  or  Japanese  actors,  excusing  Jackie  Chan  and  Bruce  Lee  of  course.  Main- stream  martial  arts Â ďŹ lms  rarely  had  all  far- eastern  casts,  and  the  concept  of  a Â ďŹ lm  based  in  the  East  without  a  colossal  amount  of  high- kicking  and  samurai  sword-Âwielding  has  been  largely  ignored  by  audiences.  Now  however,  since  Ang  Lee’s  classic  was  released  to  inter- national  acclaim  in  2000  we  are  witnessing  a  true  renaissance  in  interest  in  all  things  Chi- nese  and  Japanese,  with Â ďŹ lms  such  as  Hero,  House  of  Flying  Daggers  and  2046  proving  hugely  successful  all  around  the  world.  Memoirs  of  a  Geisha,  an  adaptation  of  the  novel  by  Arthur  Golden,  effortlessly  rides  this  new  wave  of  interest.  Set  in  Japan  in  the  years  before  and  during  the  Second  World  War  the Â ďŹ lm  follows  the  life  of  Sayuri,  the  Japanese  peasant  girl  who  learns  over  the  two  and  a  quarter  hours  to  be  a  Geisha.  Sayuri  is  played  by  Ziyi  Zhang  (who  seems  to  have  es- tablished  a  monopoly  on  all  of  Hollywood’s  ‘young  East  Asian  actress’  roles  having  ap- peared  in  Crouching  Tiger  Hidden  Dragon,  Hero,  House  of  Flying  Daggers,  2046  and  Rush  Hour  2).  Sayuri  is  sold  by  her  family  to  a  Geisha  House  in  Kyoto,  where  she  is  separat- ed  from  her  sister  and  becomes  immersed  in  the  secret  world  of  the  Geisha  (meaning  art- ist)  –  women  who  please  men  not  with  their  bodies,  but  with  their  company.  These  women  have  built  their  world  around  attaining  perfec-Â
16
Event The
tion  and  creating  art  in  everything  they  do.  In  this  world  she  learns  of  the  bitter  rivalries  between  Geishas:  over  the  affections  of  their  patrons,  over  their  reputations,  and  simply  over  who  looks  the  most  beautiful.  Most  of  all  Sayuri  learns  the  truth  which  underlies  the  world  of  the  Geisha:  to  attain  perfection  in  everything  you  do  you  must  deny  yourself  the  one  thing  Sayuri  most  wants  –  love.  Michelle  Yeoh,  one  of  the  stars  who  gives  an  immensely  digniďŹ ed  and  powerful  per- formance  as  Mameha,  Sayuri’s  mentor,  said  in  her  reaction  to  Golden’s  book  ‘you  almost  want  to  feel  and  taste  this  time  which  is  no  longer  there.’  The  look  and  feel  of  this Â ďŹ lm  fulďŹ ls  this  desire  with  zest;Íž  it  is  indescrib- ably  beautiful  with  every  shot  and  scene  dis- played  like  a  Hokusai  painting.  The  sets  are  full  of  pink  cherry  blossoms,  ornate  Shinto  temples  and  glowing  red  lanterns  –  it’s  a  feast  for  the  eyes  which  the  immaculately  costumed  Geishas  drift  through  as  though  they  too  are  part  of  the  scenery.  This  is  due  largely  to  the  work  of  cinematographer  Dion  Beebe  whose  work  on  Chicago  won  him  an  Oscar  Nomination  in  2003.  Rob  Marshall,  the  director  who  worked  with  Beebe  on  Chi- cago  wanted  to  capture  the  essence  of  the  book  though  the  design  and  look  of  the Â ďŹ lm:  ‘after  Chicago  I  was  looking  for  something  very  different’  he  says  ‘but  I  was  drawn  to  this  story,  which  is  in  many  ways  similar,  because  this  hidden  culture  felt  so  rich,  so  beautiful’.  Added  to  the  cinematography  the  score  by  John  Williams  creates  a  wonderful  other-Âworldly  atmosphere  to  the Â ďŹ lm. This  attention  to  beauty  however,  though  being  the Â ďŹ lm’s  primary  strength Â
also  leads  to  its  main  weakness.  There’s  too  much  focus  on  blossoming  owers  and  intricate  Japanese  architecture  at  the  cost  of  developing  characters  and  digging  deep  into  the  subtle  questions  the  book  raised  about  femininity,  culture  and  the  nature  of  love.  Throughout  this Â ďŹ lm  I  felt  as  if  I  was  not  being  drawn  into  a  story  but  simply  skimming  along  on  the  surface  of  one.  For  example,  the  love  story  between  Sayuri  and  ‘the  Chairman’,  which  forms  the  impetus Â
.VDI MJLF UIF (FJ TIBT UIFNTFMWFT UIF TUPSZ T EBSLFS FM FNFOUT BSF GPSFWFS IJEEFO BXBZ for  much  of  the  drama,  is  never  given  the  attention  it  needs;Íž  the  story  focuses  rather  on  the  rivalry  between  Geishas  (providing  many  opportunities  for  scenes  of  hair  and  make-Âup  preparation).  Later  the  rivalry  is  discarded  to  pick  up  once  again  the  under- nourished  love  story  –  the  upshot  of  this  being  that  you  never  really  understand  why  Sayuri  loves  the  Chairman  in  the Â ďŹ rst  place,  thus  making  much  of  the Â ďŹ lm  mystifying.  So  all  the  way  through  the  sneaking  suspicion  remains  that  the  people  making  this Â ďŹ lm  were  saying  ‘isn’t  this  plot  ridicu- lous  –  why  not  just  ignore  it  and  look  at  the  pretty  pictures’.  That  said  however,  some Â
of  the  performances  do  shine  through,  in  particular  Michelle  Yeoh  and  Li  Gong,  both  tipped  for  Oscars.  Both  entirely  outshine   their  much  younger  co  star  Ziyi  Zhang  who  had  to  cope  with  acting  in  a  language  she’s  only  been  speaking  for  two  years  whilst  at  the  same  time  undergoing  rigorous  Geisha  training  on  the  Californian  ranch  she  loving- ly  refers  to  as  ‘the  seven  rooms  of  torture’.  There  she  learnt  to  dance  with  fans  like  a  Geisha,  to  pour  tea  like  a  Geisha,  to  play  music  like  a  Geisha,  and  even  to  walk  like  a  Geisha.  Making  all  of  life  into  an  art  form  is  no  mean  feat.  When  asked  which  is  more  difďŹ cult,  learning  a  martial  art  or  learning  to  be  a  Geisha,  Zhang  has  said  ‘learning  to  be  a  Geisha,  without  a  doubt.’  Zhang,  who  is  from  Beijing,  said  too  that  she  overcame  the  cultural  conict  of  not  being  Japanese  through  this  training:  ‘this  is  an  internation- al Â ďŹ lm  –  whatever  your  cultural  background  you  still  had  to  learn  to  be  a  Geisha  like  the  rest  of  the  cast.’ This  issue  of  culture  and  language  has  surrounded  this Â ďŹ lm  right  from  its  concep- tion.  The  question  is  whether  it  is  correct  to  make  a  story  so  quintessentially  Japanese  (that  is,  about  Japanese  culture  and  history)  in  English,  with  a  largely  non-ÂJapanese  cast,  shot  entirely  in  California.  Since  promotion  of  the Â ďŹ lm  began  the  cast  and  director  are  now  well  versed  in  the  argument  –  needless  to  say  they  had  a  lot  to  say.  ‘It’s  the  same  as  when  an  American  plays  a  German  or  a  British  actor  plays  a  Frenchmen’  says  Yeoh,  ‘  anyway  this  is  an  Asian  movie  –  it’s  an  op- portunity  for  Asians  to  show  what  we  can  do.’  ‘Besides  the  book  was  written  by  an  American  in  English’  chips  in  Rob  Marshall.  This  is  true  but  however  you  justify  it  I  still  got  a  twinge  of  scepticism  when  all  the  ac- tors  were  speaking  in  English  –  as  if  I  wasn’t  looking  into  another  culture  but  looking  into  another  culture  being  recreated  in  English.   This  is  the  key  concern  with  Memoirs  of  a  Geisha.  To  be  a  Geisha  was  a  hard  and  fascinating  life  in  which  love  was  repressed  in  favour  of  creating  art.  A  life  in  which  the  way  a  Geisha  poured  tea  was  as  important  as  her  conversation  or  looks,  it  was  also  a  life  governed  by  women  –  a  feminine  so- ciety  that  men  could  only  watch  and  won- der  at.  Yet  the  story  reveals  a  darker  world  beneath  the  kimonos  and  the  splendour,  and  it  is  this  place  which  should  have  been  more  closely  examined.  However,  much  like  the  Geishas  themselves  the  darker  sides  are  hidden  away,  glossed  over  by  cherry  blos- soms,  painted  faces  and  magical  images.  Yeoh  is  right  –  we  do  get  to  taste  and  feel  a  time  that  is  lost,  but  we’re  still  stuck  skim- ming  along  on  the  surface,  unable  to  get  to  the  story  –  and  all  we’re  forced  to  do  is  sit  back  and  content  ourselves  with  the  genu- inely  beautiful,  if  inconsequential,  view.
Film
Other  Screens 5IF )JEEFO #MBEF %JS :PKJ :BNBEB 3FMFBTFE
5IF &YPSDJTN PG &NJMZ 3PTF %JS 4DPUU %FSSJDLTPO 3FMFBTFE
The  Hidden  Blade  tells  a  poignant  story  about  a  small  town  samurai,  Katagari,  whose  village  is  caught  in  a  time  of  great  transition  and  modernization  for  Japan,  with  the  rapid  intro- duction  of  western  arms  and Â ďŹ ghting  tactics.  While  struggling  to  understand  the  important  changes  taking  place  in  the  na- tion,  he  has  to  deal  with  his  relationship  with  his  family’s  maid  Kie,  whom  he  loves  but  is  afraid  to  confront,  and  the  dilemma  of  being  ordered  into  a  duel  with  one  of  his  long  time  friends,  Hamaza. The  plot  of  the  story  falls  into  two  neat  halves.  In  the Â ďŹ rst  half  Kie  is  married  into  an  abusive  merchant  family  only  to  be  rescued  and  nursed  back  to  health  by  Katagiri.  Kie  shows  her  gratitude  and  devotion  by  remaining  in  Katagiri’s  home  and  resuming  her  duties  as  a  servant,  saying  she  has  learned  her  lesson  and  will  never  marry  again.  In  the  second  half  of  the Â ďŹ lm  Katagiri’s  friend  is  sent  home  from  Edo  and  imprisoned  for  his  part  in  a  plot  against  the  Shogunate.  When  he  escapes  Katagiri  is  chosen  to  hunt  him  down  and Â ďŹ ght  a  duel  to  the  death. Solid  as  it  is,  this  plot  is  almost  incidental  to  the Â ďŹ lm,  however.  What  really  matters  is  what’s  lying  beneath  the  sur- face:  the  tension  of  the  caste  system,  the  corruption  of  the  old  order,  the  tension  and  conict  that  met  westernization,  and  the  futility  of  violence.  As  with  The  Twilight  Samurai,  Yamada  has  here  created  a  masterpiece  of  suppressed  love.  Katagiri  and  Kie  are  clearly  devoted  to  one  another  but  social  pressure  -  they  belong  to  different  castes  -  absolutely  forbids  them  from  acting  on  it.  As  was  also  the  case  in  The  Twilight  Samurai,  we  see  a  Japan  in  transition,  at  the  tail  end  of  the  samurai  tradi- tion.  Though  these  changes  seems  inevitable,  they  certainly  do  not  arrive  without  a  degree  of  sadness. Yamada  is  clearly  a  master  of  this  sort  of Â ďŹ lmmaking,  crafting  works Â ďŹ lled  with  subtlety  and  grace  and  lush  period  detail.  He  chooses  themes  that  are  distinctively  Japanese  but  also  have  universal  appeal.  The  entire  cast  is  strong  with  the  lead  actors,  in  particular,  conveying  volumes  through  half  glances  and  body  language.  The Â ďŹ lm  is  not  without  frequent  comic  scenes  too  -  for  example,  in  the  military  training  se- quences,  where  a  frustrated  military  instructor  sent  from  the  city  rails  against  the  inept  ‘back-Âcountry  samurai’  he  has  to  teach  western  tactics  to.  Far  from  being  a  blatant  copy,  or  at- tempt  to  cash-Âin,  The  Hidden  Blade  is  more  than  a  worthy  follow-Âup  to  The  Twilight  Samurai,  as  well  as  an  important Â ďŹ lm  in  its  own  right. 4UFQIFO 4IBSSPDL
While  its  unusual  hybrid  nature  (courtroom  drama  and  horror  movie)  is  an  effective  draw  for  cinemagoers  sick  of  formu- laic  Hollywood  output,  what  really  proves  the  saving  grace  of  Scott  Derrickson’s Â ďŹ lm  is  a  strong  cast  –  which  includes  the  ever-Âwonderful  Tom  Wilkinson,  and  a  powerful  turn  from  new- comer  Jennifer  Carpenter  as  the  eponymous  girl  apparently  possessed  by  a  malignant  spirit.  Thankfully,  the Â ďŹ lm  leaves  the  question  of  whether  the  possession  was  genuine  unan- swered,  though  this  does  mean  the  story  becomes  bogged  down  in  philosophical  babble  towards  the  end  (some  will  say  thought-Âprovoking,  others  just  dull).  There  are  some  scary  moments,  though  only  the  most  sensitive  of  viewers  will  lose  any  sleep  over  them.  The  focus  is  squarely  on  the  courtroom  drama,  which  is  generally  handled  with  skill.  These  scenes,  like  the  whole  picture,  are  given  a  huge  boost  by  Laura  Linney,  whose  frosty  but  endearing  presence  provides  a  solid  anchor  for  the  audience.  It  might  not  make  your  top  ten,  but  this  is  well  worth  a  look. 3JDIBSE #PBLFT
Cinefile N o 63 Blue  Velvet .
%PPN %JS "OES[FK #BSULPXJBL 3FMFBTFE A  dispiriting,  humourless  mishmash  of  sci-ÂďŹ ,  horror,  and  com- puter  game,  Doom  gestures  most  speciďŹ cally  at  the  Alien  se- ries  and  Joss  Whedon’s  recent  Serenity  (with  which  it  shares  an  extended  kung-Âfu  tussle),  where  it  comes  up  severely  want- ing.  The  corridors-Âof-Âhorror  set-Âup  ensures  a  number  of  good  jolts  –  beasties  in  the  air  vent,  mutants  in  the  shadows,  a  race  to  a  closing  door  that  ends  messily  –  but  there  really  is  no  excuse  for  the  single-Âbrushstroke  characterisation  on  show  here,  particularly  with  regard  to  Samantha  (Rosamund  Pike),  the  only  major  female  character,  who  is  lumbered  with  a  ludicrously  clichĂŠd  hysterical  woman  role.  The  other  actors  fare  little  better  (stoical  turns  from  The  Rock  and  Karl  Urban,  who  played  Eomer  in  last  two  Lord  of  the  Rings Â ďŹ lms),  and  the  constant  industrial-Ârock  score  is  just  risible:  with  every  hint  of  combat  or  running  comes  an  accompanying  wave  of  chugging  guitar  chords  that  functions  as  a  considerbly  less  creepy  score  than  the  computer  game’s.  One  scene  gets  it  right  though:  with  our  hero  made  superhuman,  Doom  adopts  a Â ďŹ rst-Âperson  shoot-Âem-Âup  perspective  that  allows  for  some  spectacular  baddie-Âslaying  action,  without  a  human  character  in  sight. 4FC .BOMFZ
8IBU JT JU BMM BCPVU UIFO The Â ďŹ lm  Blue  Velvet  is  set  behind  the  picket-Âfenced  suburbs  of  white  middle  class  America.  However,  behind  this  perfec- tionist  exterior  lays  a  sinister  underbelly  of  dark,  drug-Âriddled  bourgeois  characters.  These  two  worlds  violently  collide  af- ter  the Â ďŹ lm’s  wholesome  protagonist  Jeffery  Beaumont  (Kyle  Machlachlan)  discovers  a  severed  human  ear.  After  handing  in  the  ear  to  the  police  department,  he  gradually  becomes  disillusioned  with  their  investigation,  and  with  the  help  of  his  girlfriend  Sandy  (Laura  Dern)  he  leads  his  own  quest  for  the  truth.  This  journey  leads  him  into  the  depths  of  the  perverse  underworld  of  urban  America.  Here,  Jeffery  encounters  the  tragic  and  beautiful  nightclub  singer  Dorothy  (Isabella  Ros- sellini)  who  is  mysteriously  entangled  with  the  sadistic  Frank  Booth  (Dennis  Hopper).  Booth  is  a  notorious  criminal  and  an  emotionally  unbalanced  nitrous  oxide  addict,  whose  sexual  needs  make  his  psychotic  outbursts  seem  tame. 4P XIBU JT TP IPSSJGZJOH BCPVU 'SBOL #PPUI The  Lynch/Hopper  creation  of  Frank  Booth  plays  like  Franken- stein’s  monster,  a  creature  that  is  out  of  its  master’s  control.  Booth  was  designed  as  a  supporting  role  yet  he  becomes  the  central  living  fulďŹ lment  of  the  sexually  and  violently  threaten- ing  world  that  Lynch  suggests  throughout  the  context  of  Blue  Velvet.  Booth’s  violent  outbursts  and  preoccupation  with  ravishing  Dorothy  whilst  high  on  nitrous  oxide  are  some  of  the  most  disturbing  scenes  to  ever  be  recorded  on  celluloid.  Hopper’s  amazing  portrayal  of  Booth  has,  for  the  past  two  decades,  ranked  amongst  the  top  ten  of  all  major  lists  com- posing  the  most  frightening  characters  ever  to  be  captured  on Â ďŹ lm.  A  sample  quote:  ‘I’ll  send  you  a  love  letter!  Straight  from  my  heart,  fucker!  You  know  what  a  love  letter  is?  It’s  a  bullet  from  a  fucking  gun,  fucker!’                                                                                         &I 5IBU TPVOET MJLF B SJHIU IPSSJCMF mMN UP NF The Â ďŹ lm  unquestionably  explores  disturbing  themes,  but  it  was  a  landmark  event  for  mainstream  cinema  in  the  1980s.  The Â ďŹ lm  market  was  saturated  with  feel  good  coming-Âof-Âage  blockbusters  such  as  Dirty  Dancing,  The  Breakfast  Club  and  Say  Anything.  Even  darker,  more  experimental Â ďŹ lms,  such  as  Martin  Scorsese’s  Raging  Bull,  still  stuck  to  linear  narratives  that  could  be  clearly  associated  with  a  speciďŹ c  genre.  Before  Blue  Velvet  there  was  no Â ďŹ lm  that  subverted  the  classical  nar- rative  structure  and  immersed  itself  in  expressionistic  cinema  whilst  successfully  leaving  an  impact  on  commercial  cinema.  Without  Lynch  and  his  controversial  and  shocking Â ďŹ lms,  the  obscure  yet  hugely  popular Â ďŹ lms  of  Tim  Burton  and  Sam  Mendes  would  not  be  backed  by  big  studios,  and  therefore  never  reach  our  cinema  screens. $IBSMPUUF ,JNCMFZ
Event 17 The
Film
Special  Feature King  Kong
%JS .FSJBO $ $PPQFS &SOFTU # 4DIPFETBDL 3FMFBTFE 6OJWFSTBM 1JDUVSFT 7JEFP
Just  like  its  overriding  allusion  to  Beauty  and  the  Beast,  King  Kong  has  slowly  evolved  over  the  generations  into  a  kind  of  fairy  tale.  It’s  hard  to  believe,  but  the  age-Âold  story  of  girl  meets  giant  gorilla  is  now  over  70  years  old,  and  while  many  who  shell  out  for  the  Peter  Jackson  remake  probably  won’t  have  felt  the  need  to  have  already  sat  through  a Â ďŹ lm  that  can  be  summed  up  in  a  six-Âminute  Simpsons  parody,  it’s  worth  going  back  to  see  just  what  it  is  that  has  left  the  story  so  fresh  in  the  minds  of  so  many  generations. Compared  to  today’s  standards  of  top-Ânotch  CGI  and  Henson-Âesque  puppeteer  work,  the  once  groundbreaking  stop-Âmotion  animation  that  brought  Kong  to  terrifying  life  back  in  the  1930s  does  seem  somewhat  crude.  Many  can  be  forgiven  for  greeting  the  appearance  of  the  larger-Âthan-Âlife  ape  with  laughs  instead  of  gasps  of  horror  (something  that  Jackson  has  a  higher  chance  of  achieving),  and  at  times  con- tinuity  problems  leave  Kong  a  little  on  the  unbelievable  side  (see  the  differences  between  Kong  in  the  jungle  and  Kong  in  the  city).  There  are  also  moments  when  foggy,  claustro- phobic  shots  only  aid  in  infuriating  the  viewer  by  restricting  their  view  of  the  action  (due  to  the  old  cine  cameras  that  only  worked  well  in  highly  lit  sets),  and  the  dialogue  is  at  best  a  bit  clunky  (“say...  I  guess  I  love  youâ€?). But  the  true  magic  of  King  Kong  lies  not  in  its  presen- tation,  but  in  its  heart.  It’s  hard  not  to  feel  a  fondness  for  the  ever-Âenthusiastic  director  Carl  Denham  (Robert  Arm- strong),  or  to Â ďŹ nd  Ann  Darrow’s  determination  to Â ďŹ t  in  on Â
a  boat  full  of  sailors  anything  less  than  endearing  (it  will  be  interesting  to  see  how  Naomi  Watts’  more  rough  and  ready  acting  style  will  compare  in  the  remake).  In  contrast  to  popular  belief,  Kong’s  interest  towards  Darrow  is  only  hinted  at,  coming  across  as  more  of  an  infatuation  than  a  tender-Âhearted  romance.  For  her  he  beats  the  living  hell  out  of  a  dinosaur,  cracks  a  serpent’s  head  against  a  cave  wall, Â
and  even  sets  her  down  before  his Â ďŹ nal  tumble  from  the  Empire  State  Building;Íž  and  although  these  are  acts  that  can  hardly  be  seen  as  romantic,  we  still  feel  a  pang  of  sympathy  for  the  homicidal  ape  as  he  lays  stretched  out  across  the  street  of  New  York.  Now  that’s  magic.  &EEJF )PXBSUI
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When  three  generations  of  a  dysfunctional  family  gather  in  Rhode  Island  to  bury  the  family  patriarch  (Rip  Torn),  mem- bers  of  the  Collins  clan  are  at  each  other’s  throats  in  no  time.  Given  the  task  of  writing  the  old  man’s  eulogy,  granddaughter  Kate  (Zooey  Deschanel)  struggles  to Â ďŹ nd  the  congenial  words  that  aptly  describe  him.  So  she  turns  to  her  father  Daniel  (played  by  Hank  Azaria)  and  his  misďŹ t  siblings,  the  lesbian  Aunt  Lucy  (Kelly  Preston),  dim  Uncle  Skip  (Ray  Romano)  and  the  neurotic  Alice  (Debra  Winger).  Director  Michael  Clancy  offers  an  insider’s  look  into  the  Collins  family,  complete  with  childish  squabbles,  family  secrets  and  a  fed-Âup  suicidal  moth- er.  The  plot  is  slightly  thin  but  the  gags  are  witty  and  enjoy- able,  with  Skip’s  children  twins  stealing  the  show  with  their  quick  wit  and  sarcasm.  Not  one  of  the  best  comedies  ever,  but  nonetheless  an  easy  to  watch,  irreverent  black  comedy. /BUBTIB ,VOEBJLFS
King’s  Game  is  a  stylish  Danish  political  thriller  set  in  the  world  of  parliamentary  scheming  and  wrongdoing.  Aksel  Br- uun,  the  leader  of  the  Centre  Party,  is  caught  in  a  tragic  road  accident  leading  to  a  vacuum  of  power  in  the  party.  Ulrik  Torp,  a  journalist  working  for  a  national  newspaper  is  assigned  a  new  job  writing  about  parliament,  partly  due  to  his  ties  with  his  father,  an  ex-Âminister.  Here  he  is  caught  up  in  a  spin-Âdoc- toring  world  of  politics  where  nothing  is  at Â ďŹ rst  what  it  seems.  King’s  Game  is  a  sleek  and  stylish Â ďŹ lm,  well  made  and  well  researched.  It  takes  an  in-Âdepth  look  at  the  political  system  in  Denmark  and  how  it  works,  including  the  press,  and  how  easily  the  truth  can  become  distorted  and  biased.  It  analyses  the  role  of  journalism  in  politics,  and  how  it  should  be  kept  separate  and  independent  from  the  world  of  politics.  &XBO "OEFSTPO
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The  four Â ďŹ lms  included  here  make  for  a  thrilling  introduc- tion  to  Sweden’s  master  existentialist.  The  Seventh  Seal  and  Wild  Strawberries,  the  earlier  entries,  hang  onto  some  of  the  warmth  and  spontaneous  humour  of  Bergman’s  early  1950s  summer  series  (Summer  Interlude,  Summer  with  Monica),  although  the  former’s  nightmare  sequence  and  the  latter’s  cloaked  Death Â ďŹ gure  are  famous  for  their  mordant  imagery.  Persona  (left),  the  director’s  hallucinatory  modernist  master- piece,  is  chill  to  the  bone  though,  and  there  are  few Â ďŹ lms  that  describe  the  modern  condition  of  alienation  with  more  power  or  style.      4FC .BOMFZ
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Although  the  promotional  taglines  took  pains  to  avoid  men- tion  of  race,  or  interracial  relationships  (‘You  think  you  know  who  you  are.  You  have  no  idea’,  for  example),  Paul  Haggis’s  study  of  racism  in  LA  was  certainly  nothing  less  than  confron- tation.  Generally  slated  on  cinema  release  for  its  didacticism,  there  is  something  schematic  about  Crash’s  careful  staging  of  (mostly  violent)  racial  conicts,  one  after  another  and  all  connected  by  outrageous  coincidence,  but  what  it  lacks  in  spontaneity  it  makes  up  for  in  intensity.  In  a Â ďŹ lm  where  eve- ryone  has  a  bout  of  hate-Âfuelled  aggression  to  perform,  the  performances  seldom  dip  below  compelling.  Matt  Dillion  and  Sandra  Bullock  do Â ďŹ ne,  nuanced  work  as  they  grapple  with  inner  demons  and  external  crises,  and  Don  Cheadle  provides  the  quiet,  brooding  centre  of  a Â ďŹ lm  unafraid  to  blur  the  line  between  heroism  and  miserable,  hateful  weakness.  4FC .BOMFZ
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s  everybody  on  the  planet  must  know  by  now,  Gorillaz  are  the  world’s Â ďŹ rst  animated  band.  Their  videos  are  cartoons  and  their  live  shows  use  3D  CGI  animation  –  but  how  is  the  band  represented  online?  Instead  of  the  usual  mix  of  news,  forums  and  tour  diaries,  visitors  to  www.gorillaz.com  can  explore  their  virtual  home  –  Kong  Studios.  Nestling  on  top  of  a  mountain  surrounded  by  a  grave- yard  and  huge  landďŹ ll  site,  it’s  home  to  all  manner  of  weird  and  wonderful  characters  and  there’s  enough  to  do  for  anyone  to  hap- pily  waste  some  time. As  the  place  is  where  Gorillaz  live,  their  bedrooms  are  obviously  here.  Each  one  re- ects  the  personality  of  the  character  –  2D’s  is  full  of  retro  things,  such  as  old  designs  of  sneakers  and  synthesizers,  and  Noodle’s  room  is  just  as  it  is  in  the  DARE  video,  even  down  to  the  sliding  paper  doors  and  Shaun  Ryder’s  huge  head.  Beyond  the  bedrooms,  there  are  also  music  rooms  (such  as  the  In- strument  Room  and  the  studio)  and  a  cin- ema  (where  you  can  view  various  videos),  as  well  as  random  things  like  a  kitchen  and  the  toilets.  In  each  room,  there  are  lots  of  things  to  do  –  such  as  playing  all  manner  of  strange  instruments  in  the  music  rooms  and  messing  around  with  the  letters  beneath  the  posters  in  the  box  ofďŹ ce.  There’s  also  things  to  pick  up  around  the  place  that  reward  ex- plorers  –  there  are  jars  of  nutrients  hidden  around  the  entire  building  that,  when  fed  to  Shaun  Ryder  in  Noodle’s  room,  gives  you  some  free  stuff;Íž  there  are  also  cassette  tapes  tucked  away  that  can  be  put  into  a  machine  in  the  studio,  which  will  then  play  a  rare  Go- rillaz  song. It’s  all  very  fun  simply  exploring,  what  else  is  there?  Well,  there’s  a  huge  collection  of  online  games  here  that  range  from  being  a  bit  boring  to  being  very  addictive  and  time  wasting.  There  are  games  based  on  Gorillaz  videos  (such  as  the  new  Dirty  Harry  game),  updates  of  old  classics  (like  wide-Âscreen  Pong  and  Frogger),  arcade  games  (bowling  and  a  shooting  range)  and  random  yet  fun  ones  (such  as  the  potato  peeling  and  pump- king  carving  games).  Possibly  the  most  fun Â
is  mah-Âjong,  which  involves  matching  pairs  of  Gorillaz-Âthemed  tiles  in  an  effort  to  clear  the  board.  It  can  be  ranked  alongside  Tetris  and  Minesweeper  as  being  incredibly  simple  yet Â ďŹ endishly  addictive,  and  that  one  last  go  usually  ends  up  being  a  half  hour  session.  Of  course,  there  are  also  loads  of  sounds  on  here.  There  are  songs  aplenty,  from  the  latest  album  on  the  jukebox  to  snippets  of  as-Âyet  unreleased  songs  that  play  in  some  rooms.  Most  of  the  characters  that  live  in  Kong  Studios  will  also  speak  to  visitors  –  a  camp  polar  bear  and  joke-Âtelling  alligator  in  the  studio  kitchen  provide  a  lot  of  laughs,  as  does  the  strange  Cowboy  Gary  that  runs  the  Gorillaz  shop.  Unsurprisingly,  certain  el- evators  will  announce  “It’s  coming  up,  it’s  coming  up,  it’s  dareâ€?  on  their  arrival.  They’re  only  little  touches,  but  they  make  the  site  that  little  bit  more  memorable. A  lot  of  effort  has  clearly  gone  into  making  the  site.  It’s  a  fantastic  way  for  the  band  to  interact  with  their  fans  and  for  visi- tors  to  explore  their  virtual  world,  as  well  as  being  guaranteed  to  waste  a  lot  of  your  time,  whether  you’re  simply  looking  round  or  wearing  out  your  mouse  buttons  in  the  shooting  range.  It’s  a  huge  website  that  truly  has  something  for  everybody  –  visit  www. gorillaz.com  and  get  addicted  to  Kong  Stu- dios.
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