Venue 303

venue #303 / fire up the sex canon / horny horoscopes marvin gaye / cancel the pronouns/ sexuality in game of thrones

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venue

concrete.venue@uea.ac.uk

November 11 / #303

Editors Holly J. McDede and Adam White Art & Design Director Ana Dukakis Cover Art Ruth Knapp Illustrators Scarlet Dawson, Ana Dukakis, Lizzie Parsons, Asia Patel

music 04-07

fashion 08-09

arts 10-11

creative writing 12-13

Editors Myles Earle and Mike Vinti

Editors Gemma Carter and Helena Urquhart

Editor Katie Kemp

Editor Jake Reynolds

Contributors Myles Earle, Emma Holbrook, Faith Ridler, Mike Vinti

Contributors Emily Fedorowycz, Leah Omonya, Elley West

Contributors Katie Kemp, Brett Mottram, Beth Ryan

Contributors Elley Blue, Jules Li Ignacio, Peter Sheehan, anonymous

gaming + tech 15

television 16-17

film 18-21

the page of fun 22

Editor Joe Fitzsimmons

Editor Adam Dawson

Editors Neven Devies and Silvia Rose

listings 23

Contributors Dian Atamyanov, Holly J. McDede, Tarmia Mears

Contributors Nour Ibrahim, Amelia Morris, Dan Struthers

Contributors George Barker, Neven Devies, Joe Frost, Martha Julier, Chris Rogers, Silvia Rose, Fedor Tot, Adam White

Editor Daisy Jones Contributors Daisy Jones

Oh, good. It’s my turn to write the editorial, and it’s the Sex issue. I am so delighted that even I can’t tell if I’m sarcastic. Let me begin by telling you a few things I know about sex. In case you were wondering, the first modern day vibrator for women was designed by the inventor of the electronic toothbrush, Dr. Philippe Woog.

This made sense; a lot of people, apparently, were already using toothbrushes for a similar purpose at the time (and there is a toothbrush that transforms into a vibrator available online right now). Also, there’s a condition known as

a “phantom penis” following the amputation of a man’s penis, where men continue to imagine highly graphic erections even after their penis has been amputated. Also, the lining of the nose contains erectile tissue of the same kind as the genitals. I collect information about sex and hang it up on my bedroom walls for eager, young boys to stumble upon. Not really. I just read Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Sex and Science by Mary Roach about three years ago and information like that just kind of sticks. It’s easy to talk about sex when you’re just reciting

something you read in a book. It’s easy to talk about sex when there’s a Sex issue coming out in a student newspaper. It’s easy to walk into a sex shop and ask about vibrators when you’re an investigative reporter. Kids! Use this issue of venue Venue to talk to the person sitting nex to you about your sex life. Call your mom! Call Grandma! Write a love letter to your mailman.

You know, whatever.

Keep it real, kids Holly J. and Adam

Photo Credits Music FKA Twigs Fact Mag; Marvin Gaye Revive Music Fashion Underwear 101 Computer Solutionz Arts Egon Schiele (Top) Manfred Thumberger Egon Schiele (Bottom) Wikimedia; The Pregnant Widow Wikipedia; Books and Lube BigActive Creative Writing Mandelson Wikipedia TV Fargo (Top) The Gonzo; Fargo (Bottom) MPR News Game of Thrones Wikipedia Film Mr. Turner Awards Daily; Horns Page to Premiere; Nightcrawler Entertainment Monthly; Ouija Bloomberg; Shame My Lawyer Will Call Your Lawyer; The Idiots BFI; Top Gun Movpins; A History of Violence Brego; Trance Faptuary; Concussion Zeta Boards; Bound My Movies; My Beautiful Launderette Hinterland Blog; Secretary Chino Kino; Monster’s Ball Out Now Page of Fun Horoscopes Lovely Lydia Hearst

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music concrete.music@uea.ac.uk

Sex, Race and Alternative R&B Emma Holbrook explores how sex and race are categorised within the emerging genre of Alt-R&B When it comes to a clichéd soundtrack for the horizontal tango (hopefully not a new dance on Strictly), the 21st century’s answer to the slow jams of the 90s generally seems to be found in the type of music produced

by The Weeknd, Beyonce, Frank Ocean and FKA twigs, who are tentatively grouped under the problematic title, ‘alternative R&B’.

This moniker is occasionally exchanged for ‘PBR&B’, referring to Pabst Blue Ribbon beer – a staple of US hipsterdom and is generally characterised by a midnight-hour aesthetic, soulful vocals, ethereal synths, deep basslines and, perhaps most importantly, a brooding sexuality.

“As much in common with R&B as the butchering of ‘bump and grind’ that has regrettably found a home in the LCR” With songs that would sound a little out of place at a family summer barbecue, the reinvention of contemporary R&B has been popularised by the likes of Drake, often held up as the sensitive soul of hip-hop, and The Weeknd, but the latter’s sleek, soulful vocals and pleas to ‘let me motherfucking love you’, often disguise an age-old tendency to reduce

women to sexual objects: “girl, strip it down, close your mouth…you gotta pay with your body.”

However, alt-R&B is generally viewed as a significantly more progressive and diverse genre than its chart counterpart thanks to the likes of Frank Ocean, one of the most prominent openly queer artists in R&B and hip-hop. It is also seen to be paving the way for female sexual liberation, most notably with lady of the hour and missing link between Prince and Grimes, FKA twigs. Her debut album LP1 oozes sensuality with each seductive wave of synth: there is a rare yet candid celebration of female masturbation in Kicks: “what do I do when you’re not here?

I get my kicks like you” and then with the song Closer, twigs juxtaposes the associated innocence of high-register choral vocals with a frank discussion of sexual desire. But her most sultry number is also not her most graphic: it comes in her ode to comfortable relationships, Lights On, where she coos “when I trust you, we can do it with the lights on.”

This alternative platform for confident female sexuality is regarded highly in contrast to the potentially exploitative nature of over-sexualised mainstream pop, with Miley Cyrus and her ilk broadcasting their newfound sexuality with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer (sometimes using an actual

sledgehammer), purely at the behest of the record company. But it is not a style of music just reserved for left-field artists. Even Beyoncé’s 2013 self-titled album indicated a slight departure from her signature R&B balladry to explore darker beats and a more boldly sexual tone; perhaps best seen in Partition, which could not be more about sex unless it included the lyric: “he Monica Lewinsky’d all on my gown” (no wait, it already did that…) Beyoncé also explored and contributed to this branch of R&B’s perceived hypersexuality, producing videos that rival Game of Thrones in the ‘I would rather hug a cactus than watch this with my parents’ category.

But is the label of ‘alternative R&B’ erroneous and potentially racialised? FKA twigs, in a recent interview with The Guardian, suggested that her R&B categorisation was more down to her race than her sound: “when I first released music and no one knew what I looked like, I would read comments like: ‘I’ve never heard anything like this before, it’s not in a genre’… It’s like punk; fuck alternative R&B!” Whilst twigs was probably being somewhat glib in her references to punk, her sentiment is undoubtedly right: as tracks such as ‘Preface,’ which jump between time signatures and genres as though they’re non-existent, have as much in common with

‘R&B’ as the recent remix/butchering of ‘Bump & Grind’ that has regrettably found a home in the LCR.

“Constraining FKA twigs’ deeply experimental music in the same manner is, at the least, lazy” While Jessie Ware and Frank Ocean’s music is driven by a contemporary form of R&B, constraining FKA twigs’ deeply experimental music in the same manner is, at the least, laziness, and a form of laziness that is arguably not used when categorising white artists making very similar music, such as Grimes. There is potential that her music’s highly sexual content is more what contributed to twigs’ definition, indubitably relating to the way that women of colour are sexualised and exoticised in an entirely unique and disturbing way by the music industry. There is undeniably a problem with music criticism’s obsessive need to categorise everything, particularly when contemporary music resists definition with the same fervour. But we need to reclassify this genre in particular and ask whether the music industry currently allows women of colour to be shamelessly sexual beings outside the realm of R&B?

music

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concrete.music@uea.ac.uk

Taylor Swift 1989 Faith Ridler

Taylor Swift has finally re-emerged, but she’s far from the guitar-wielding teenager we all grew to love. Her post-Red hiatus has killed off the last of her country roots, and left us with a brilliantly shiny pop mega-star. We

were teased with Shake It Off, Out of the Woods and Welcome to New York on the run up to 1989’s release, and to her dedicated Swifties, it’s been a long time coming. 1989 is feisty, mature, and does not disappoint.

1989 was billed as a complete direction change, and this was far from an understatement. Swift’s reputation as an anthology of teenage heartbreak is being challenged; she’s hung up her tear-streaked acoustic, and brought us an album full of exaggerated pop. It’s drastic, but 1989 is still distinctly Taylor Swift. Sure, you’re stretched to hear even the echo of a guitar, but Swift’s trademark of writing about romance hasn’t faltered.

The album kicks off in a place where “you can want who you want,” in an ode to Swift’s new favourite city. Welcome to New York is wonderfully uplifting, introducing 80s style synth-pop to Taylor Swift’s discography.

It’s one of the few tracks that focuses on something other than Swift’s “long list of ex-

lovers,” as expressed in her upcoming single Blank Space, and it proves she is capable of writing on another topic.

Blank Space is a contradiction to the innocent, heart-broken country singer of Swift’s past. Instead of the clueless victim, she pegs herself as the villain - “Cause darling I’m a nightmare dressed like a daydream”. It’s an interesting twist, and the track itself is the sort of catchy that will easily steal a spot in the Top 40.

As is typical of any Taylor Swift album, there are some tracks that have Swifties frantically theorising about the subject. The perhaps too obviously named Style (Harry Styles, anyone?) is at the centre of these debates. The track is extremely reminiscent of a 1950s Hollywood Blockbuster, with images of James Dean and the “red-lipped classic thing that you like”, which is an obvious nod to the woman herself. Traditional pop track Bad Blood is another that raises eyebrows, as Swift herself admitted it’s an attack on

another female artist.

But 1989 isn’t all Shake It Off-esque party anthems. Swift has balanced it out nicely with a few scattered ballads, including This Love and what she’s dubbed her one-day wedding song You Are in Love. Wildest Dreams is the best of the lot, showcasing Swift’s vocal talents with ethereally pretty lyrics.

Taylor Swift has again created an album destined to be wildly popular. Wonderland, Clean and How You Get the Girl are the best of what 1989 has to offer, all examples of Swift’s impressively honest song writing. Such a huge change in direction was a risky move for the 24-year-old, but she’s somehow pulled it off. Time to say goodbye to America’s country sweetheart, and hello to the pop mega-star that’s taken her place.

venue Venue’s Artist of the Month

Music Editor Myles Earle gets it on and opens the gate to Gaye with the king of sexy soul music We’ve come to that time again where we take a look at venue Venue’s artist of the month. As this is the Sex Issue, we had to take a look at someone that just oozes sex appeal. Though many artists have come and gone, there is only one that is synonymous with sexiness; the King of Love, the pinnacle of sexy, the sexual healer himself, Mr Marvin Pentz Gay Jr., more commonly known as Marvin Gaye.

The songs of Gaye have honoured the sound waves for years, and still come to our minds when we think about the ultimate love songs of

“It’s Marvin Gaye for crying out loud; he could do whatever he wanted” our time. It is highly probable that your parents got in the mood to make you by jamming to Gaye’s Got To Give It Up. The silky smooth

and buttery tones of this fine man shaped the sounds of Motown, and has this power to make anyone who’s listening feel good about themselves, almost like being on a drip of the highest quality chocolate. With over 15 studio albums, a countless number of collaborations and perceived as one of the most influential people in music, Marvin Gaye is immortalised.

Let’s get on to what’s on everyone’s minds… the classic hit, Sexual Healing. The critically acclaimed single that shook the radio waves, received a Grammy Award in 1982, and found a place on the Rolling Stone list of the 500 Greatest Songs of All Time, is one of the most well-known songs of our generation. Its funky beats and reggae-influenced vibe finds its way into every sinew of your body, moving you instinctively. The opening line, “Baby, I’m hot just like an oven” has to be one of the horniest but well-known opening lines of a song. But

we cannot dispute against it, I mean it’s Marvin Gaye for crying out loud; he could do whatever he wanted. His lyrics were never as explicit of

“The opening line... has to be one of the horniest but well-known opening lines of a song” the love songs of the genre today. Gaye was a lyrical genius of making sex in music something everyone wanted to listen to, and becoming part of the playlist of making love in general.

Finding its way into films and television, the song conquered over a range of mediums.

It comes as no surprise, then, that Gaye success attracted so many fans, especially fellow artists that looked to him for collaborations.

The American singer-songwriter famously worked with the likes of Mary Wells and Tammi

Terrell, producing duet albums which caught the eyes of so many. However, his most famous collaborative work was the self-entitled duet album Diana & Marvin, incorporating the voice of the phenomenal Diana Ross. These two, beautifully coupled, created what could be said to be one of the best duet albums of all time. But, we must turn back to the star that is Marvin Gaye. He was not only a smooth talker and musical lover-maker, but was ultimately a pioneer in the genre of Soul and Funk.

Many of his contemporaries, such as Teddy Pendergrass and Luther Vandross, viewed Gaye as a trailblazer for the genre, expressing love and sexiness in a way that needed to be listened to.

And, though Gaye was competing with the new generation of love song artists, he never lost his status as one of the fathers of Soul, R&B and as one of the sexiest men, both in the genre and within music itself.

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music concrete.music@uea.ac.uk

Blood Sugar Sex-Musik Sadly, we can’t all be John Cusack in High Fidelity, and as such we don’t have the time to curate the perfect sex-mix. But for your general and listening pleasure, Mike Vinti, Myles Earle and Faith Ridler have gathered together to present venue Venue’s sexiest albums of all time

XXYYXX XXYYXX Technically a mixtape but undeniably a work of seductive brilliance, in his 2011 debut release XXYYXX flips samples from Beyoncé, TLC and Alt-J to create brooding, sexually charged electronica. The vast majority of the tape is instrumental so there’s no risk of a ‘let me looove you’ crawling out of your speakers and Tom Martin ruining all your hard work. The sensuality is all the synths; slow moving, chopped n screwed pulses of euphoria rolling over even slower

basslines, its almost unsettling XXYYXX was 16 when this mixtape was released. Album opener About You is by far the sexiest track, a minimalist, proto-trap roller that crawls its way through it’s four minute track length slowly building layer upon layer of distorted vocals and oozing bass. True to form, its successor Good Enough is just as enticing, changing the pace with a garage-drum loop and yet more warped vocals courtesy of TLC’s No Scrubs.

Miles Davis Sketches of Spain Miles Davis is sexy. Flamenco is sexy.

Miles Davis taking flamenco and adding his trumpety goodness all over it is sexiest album of all time territory. Complete with castanet clicks and soaring licks of sharp brass, Sketches of Spain captures the fusion of danger and sexuality that Spanish culture is so famous for.

Probably more of one for the ‘heads than

a post LCR hook-up, as tracks like Saeta let the side down in the sexiness stakes however the tango inspired Solea is all but guaranteed to get hips twitching from across the room. Sexiness aside it’s also one of Davis’ finest works and guaranteed to impress if you end up in bed with a Jazz fan, stranger things have happened.

Pulp This Is Hardcore While Blur and Oasis where busy bickering about cocaine and who got to be the kings of brit-pop Pulp were creating some of the truly sexiest music to come out of the UK this side of the Berlin wall. Be it the orchestral erotica of title track This is Hardcore or the melancholic bliss of Help the Aged this album cemented Pulp’s place as the true masters of Brit-pop and helped Jarvis Cocker to become one of the least likely sex icons of the indie world. Opening

track The Fear sets the tone well for the rest of the album with its mix of broken piano chords and wailing guitars, complimented perfectly as ever by Cocker’s dulcet tones. Seductive Barry encapsulates Pulp’s sexuality in eight minutes of slow, grooving, bass dripping with their trademark irony. If you’ve ever wanted to have the kind of sad, ‘end of a movie’ sex that we were promised by every teen movie then this is the album for you.

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds Murder Ballads No one quite treads the line between creepy and sexy as well as Nick Cave, and no album captures that fusion as well as 1996’s Murder Ballads. A tribute to crimes of passion, this album is filled from beginning to end with dirty, oftentimes violent slow jams that would turn the most polite of parties into a writhing mass of bodies. Stagger Lee tells the tale of a “bad motherfucker” fucking and killing his

way across a small wild-west town before descending into a cacophony of squealing guitars and feedback. For those of you in doubt as to the sexiness of a vampiric middleaged Australian, Where the Wild Roses Grow, Cave’s duet with none other than Kylie, should serve to prove his mastery of the dark side of sexuality, bubbling with breathless lyrics about murderous love.

music

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concrete.music@uea.ac.uk

Justin Timberlake FutureSex/Love Sounds Alright, so maybe it’s predictable, but we can’t talk about sex without even mentioning Justin Timberlake. It could be memories of JT’s What Comes Around… video, or the fact he’s been claiming since 2006 that he’s “bringing sexy back,” but FutureSex/LoveSounds demands a place in Venue’s ‘Sexiest Albums of All Time’ run-down. It’s pure, smooth, seductive R&B, and it doesn’t let up for 66 whole minutes.

Timberlake’s sophomore release is stronger

and sexier than its predecessor, Justified, but it lacks any subtlety. It’s a thousand miles from being romantic, with a blaring hip-hop edge and multiple extremely blunt innuendos; does that make it sexy? Timberlake has created music that demands attention, full to the brim with suggestion and effortless vocal runs. The tone is more than a little enticing, but it can’t be denied JT went a bit overkill with his lyrics.

Flology Flo’Ology Slow, sultry and sensual, Floetry’s Flo’Ology is sexy in all its glory. This British neo-Soul duo not only conquered the UK with the sexy and buttery tones, but also broke the US with what is simply their best album. Including some of their hits like Lay Down and Feelings, these two did something completely new to the genre that made them oh-sosexy. Marsha Ambrosius, the ‘Songstress’, harmonises and backs their tracks with

a voice that can only be compared to sex itself. Natalie Stewart, the ‘Floacist’, creates poetic verses that inspire and take you on a musical journey through their purple mist of stories about love, sex and relationships.

These two sexy halves of one whole made sex a mystery, enigmatic and a force to be dealt with delicately. It’s no wonder they tell you to “use your imagination”, they get into your brain and plant the seed of sex.

Lizzie Parsons

Maxwell Embrya If there is one man that has the ability to make someone feel sexy, it’s Maxwell.

Famously known for his track This Woman’s Work, this guy really knows how to bring the sexy. Embrya, his second studio album, is sophisticatedly attractive, playing around with his soulful tones and holding your hand whilst you witness the sexual fantasies of “liquid kisses” and “luxury” that he creates. His

track Luxury: Cococure not only lulls you into a world of lust, but Maxwell makes a point of keeping you drawn in with his seductive whispers, reaching falsettos that make the ladies swoon. Reaching heights of what it means to make sexy music, Maxwell makes an impression on the libido, the sexual instinct and could, as he says in his track, drive you crazy... crazy in love that is.

Erykah Badu Baduizm There’s something super sexy about intelligence, especially the intellect that plays around with the idea of sex. That’s exactly what Badu does in this album; entitled with a concept of her music being almost religious, this sex Goddess explores the complication that comes with being too ‘good’ at making love, resulting in people being hooked, like a drug. It seems appropriate that the album is entitled Baduizm. In Next Life, the track starts

off with a dialogue between her and a guy that wants to “whatever” he needs to do get with her, though she is in a relationship. However, her track Other Side Of The Game, with its enticing Jazz and Badu’s nonchalance, oozes sex completely. Exploring the intricacy of this complex relationship, Badu flips the script and expresses that she loves him “strong”.

Metaphysics and sex have a home in Baduizm, and you can feel it.

fashion

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concrete.fashion@uea.ac.uk

Best Dressed at UEA Recognise anyone?

Tweet us at @conc_fashion

Katie Baines First Year - Psychology

Banishing the Binaries Elley West tackles gender on the High Street Fashion is considered one of the most progressive and avant-garde industries and re-invention is one of its core principles. Developing and redesigning itself is what allows the machine to continue to thrive. So I find myself wondering how is it that such a forward-thinking industry can reinforce such old-fashioned ideals?

I’m talking, of course, about gender binaries. They’re everywhere in fashion. Who hasn’t read an article explaining what to wear “for him” or “for her?” But each time an article like this runs, or a department store segregates clothing by ‘male’ or ‘female,’ a large chunk of the population is ignored because if you don’t fit into either of those pronouns, you won’t even get a mention.

It’s so systematically inherent that it’s right here on our high streets. I’m a twenty year-old trans woman and I love shoes. However I find the act of shopping for shoes soul destroying.

The biggest size Topshop sells is an 8. One of the most mainstream, ‘popular’ shops thinks the biggest possible footsize of its clientele is an 8. This is only two sizes up from the national average footsize for women which is a size 6!

And this is detrimental not just to trans or non-binary individuals, but to women and to all people with big feet who want to wear ‘cool’

shoes from ‘cool’ Topshop, because we all miss out. What Topshop and places like it are saying when they don’t sell anything higher than this is that we’re not welcome to their brand, they don’t want us to wear their clothing. And that is definitely not cool.

This heteronormativity feels especially banal when we consider how exciting fashion can be. It’s an industry that delights in keeping its audience on edge. This is the movement that is slowly liberating what women choose to put on their bodies. It loves being naughty and pushing boundaries and showing us things like side boob on the red carpet. But now it’s time to start liberating everyone, showing that anyone can wear whatever they want. Sideboob on a red carpet doesn’t really surprise me as much as say someone rocking a non-binary style on a red carpet would. That kind of medium-level representation would be so inspiring to a disillusioned androgynous person looking for a point of reference in popular culture. Any representation would be better than nothing, because it would get people talking. Cultural change requires the ‘generators of culture,’ in this corporate sense I mean both high-fashion brands and highstreet retailers, to initiate the change. If we live

in a spoon-fed society, then give us something that tastes a bit more of acceptance. By making products more diverse, by adding things like an “asexual fit” or larger shoe sizes, mingling traditional women’s clothing amongst the traditional men’s, people will begin to feel more comfortable experimenting. Then the alternative will become the norm.

You may say, so what, it is just fashion- it’s a vapid and meaningless industry that causes a whole heap of insecurities in a lot of people.

And you may be right, there are many problems with society’s ideals of beauty and how it conveys them. But, right or wrong, fashion is as influential on our culture as it ever was. That’s the point of it. In the world we live in today we use visual media to understand ourselves and our other surroundings and by excluding androgynous people, trans people and intersex people from this discussion, the fashion sphere denies our existence. It denies our right to be a part of the beautiful regeneration of fashion, to be a voice in this conversation, even our right to wear fashion. It makes it that bit harder for us to understand ourselves in the modern world. It becomes another mirror for us to look at that doesn’t reflect us back. And that needs to change.

Underwear 101 Emily Fedorowycz shares her vital underwear advice

Annie Lane Second Year - Pharmacy

Clare Bartington Third Year - History Photography Helena Urquhart

Lost in lingerie? Boxer trouble? You’ve come to the right place. When it comes to underwear and trying to figure out what our partner might like to see us in, many of us can become buried in advice and troublesome thongs. Well, don’t get your knickers in a twist just yet, because Concrete Fashion are here to save the day!

We all like to look our best for our partners and in the bedroom it’s even more important, when you want to be extra confident and extra saucy.

K.I.S.S. (Keep It Simple, Stupid!)

Pretty much every undies survey ever says don’t over complicate.

Too many c o l o u r c o m b o s can be a distraction so whether you’re going

colourful or not, go matching! Red is up there with the classic black, but go with what you feel like! Keep to pleasing tones – that means no neon and cheetah print. They never go down well, even if you really are an animal in bed.

you’re definitely onto a winner.

Then there’s complicated design. If you thought having someone take your bra off was enough of a car crash, then further zips, buttons, hooks etc. are going to be a hundred times worse. It’ll kill the mood faster than when they ask, “How do you take this off?”

So if you are going a bit intricate, make sure you can undo it at least! If, however, you can involve your partner in taking your garments off in a seductive way, for instance silk bows that can be undone or boxers that can be taken off with teeth, then you can make the hassle of undressing a bit more fun!

3 Less is more! Most guys love seeing a bit of flesh – to be honest they love seeing any girl in underwear whatever – but if you’re getting into something a little more uncomfortable for your other half then you might as well show off a bit.

Choices, Choices...

There are so many good choices on the High Street, but therein lies the chaos of trying to settle on the seduction set. So, here at Fashion we’ve decided to compile a little list of, some of the top rated lingerie to get your partner hot. All are good, so just go with what you feel most fabulous in!

1 First up is the ‘ole push up bra. Who knew people liked cleavage, right? If you can get a bit of detailing on there too, like a bit of lace,

2 Next, as if in matching pairs, the thong. It’s no surprise there’s a song written about them: the majority love them! Which leads us to our next preference…

4 Get seductive. In a survey by College Magazine, they found that 80% of men loved a ‘seductive set’ of lingerie. Though bare in mind that ‘seductive’ is open to interpretation… leather and animal print rated pretty low in the survey, so you might be better off avoiding the S&M masks and leopard chemise...

5 Sexy accents can go a long way, and no, we’re not talking about a kind of role-play. We mean suspenders! They fall for them every time. So why not get a bit saucy?

But when it comes down to it, one of the sexiest things is to be confident and comfortable. The truth is - anything that makes you feel sexy will be sexy because sexiness comes from you! So, love your body and flaunt what your mama gave you!

fashion

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concrete.fashion@uea.ac.uk

Photography Will Cockram

Model Jaya Cooper

Stylists Helena Urquhart and Gemma Carter

Lace and Leather

Leah Omonya tells us just how sexy these two fabrics can be Lace and leather are two seductive and sultry materials, but at venue Venue we’ve been wondering what it is about these fabrics that makes them so sexy and appealing to the touch.

Could it be that leather subconsciously brings to mind the swift sting of a riding crop or the scuffed boots and chaps of a cowboy well trained in their craft? Or that it summons the thought of a strong biker on a steely beast, clad head to toe in leather to protect him

“Leather gets hot when we get hot” from the wind. Leather as a material is known for being durable and withstanding rugged conditions and the hardworking laborious workers that wore it, could be part of its industrial appeal. Having such a heritage has lent leather the ability to give almost any outfit an indistinguishable edge. Even paired over

the most floral or frilliest of dresses just a hint of leather be it a belt, jacket or even a pair of well-worn boots, can elevate your outfit to the world of the risqué and the chic.

Leather can be stifling when it sticks to your skin and makes you sweat, it is literally a second skin, but that could also be part of what makes it so attractive. It gets hot when we get hot, it makes us shiver when it gets cold.

It is a versatile material that conjures up all manner of images in our minds. There is just something about the opaque and sometimes shiny material that seems to get us going.

Maybe it’s the way the light bounces off it just so. Afterall, it is the fabric of the dominant and submissive alike. It has such a welcoming texture that we just can’t wait to be clad in.

Lace is seductive in an altogether different way. When worn it is there on your person but just barely. It must be the visual access to the flesh beneath that makes lace just so damn

sexy. It is as if it creates the illusion of decency, of conforming to the norm and covering up,

“Lace can allow you to feel naughty, desired and sexy” whilst allowing you to flaunt your flesh with an innocent smile on your face. It is a precursor to nudity, it hints at what’s to come and it sets our imaginations on fire. It’s the most sensuous game of peek-a-boo in the world.

Lace brings images of lingerie to mind and when worn as such, can allow you to feel naughty, desired and sexy no matter what you have on over the top. It’s as if just the fact that you know what’s underneath, makes you stand up a little taller, sway your hips just that little bit more. Even when worn as outer wear, be it just a lace trim on a skirt or a lace top, with a camisole underneath protecting your dignity, even then just a little strip of lace can make all

the difference. It brings out the naughty tease inside you to the forefront.

Separately lace and leather are sumptuous and divine, but combined they are a seductive feast. They contrast and complement each other, the soft smoothness of leather and the decorative coarseness that dainty lace can possess. When worn together they can turn you into the walking, talking personification of a good girl gone bad - delightfully both showcasing and concealing your flesh to the world’s delight.

These, however, are just our opinions, our peer-informed views on what makes lace and leather so appealing to me and you. What attracts you to a certain texture or look is an entirely subjective thing, but what we can agree on is that they do. Attract us that is. Lace and leather, it has been unanimously decided, are extremely hot, why they are exactly is, I’m afraid, between you and your therapist’s couch.

arts

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concrete.arts@uea.ac.uk

Temptation, Taboo and the Radical Nude Beth Ryan explores Egon Schiele’s “ultimate celebration of the flesh”, in residence at the Courthauld October saw the opening of one of the most exciting exhibitions held at the Courthauld in recent years: “Egon Schiele: the Radical Nude”.

The title could not be more fitting; Schiele’s unflinching approach to painting the naked figure is nothing if not radical.

It is part and parcel of the notoriously prurient lifestyle that encompassed an incestuous relationship with his sister and a two year jail sentence elicited by an act of public indecency. In short, Schiele caused a bit of a stir.

But what was it about his treatment of the nude that turn-of-the-century Vienna found so upsetting? The thirty or so works on display at the exhibition, each as head turning today as they were a hundred years ago, provide an unapologetic answer to this question.

Collectively, they read as a series of emaciated figures, contorted into sexually explicit poses.

Take his 1913 painting Woman With Black Stockings. It has all the hallmarks of a Schiele nude: a female model of questionable age, incongruously pink nipples, lips and genitals, and provocative attire to affirm the picture’s erotic nature.

In apparent complicity, his subject holds up her skirts to us, just as Schiele holds up two fingers to the conservative bourgeoisie.

So, the more a nude promotes sexuality, the more it is condemned. It is almost a prerequisite to earn the title of a “nude” that the painting is governed by some degree of decorum. At what point does a nude just become a painting of a naked person? Can Schiele’s paintings justifiably be called “nudes”? Or are they something else?

“Sex and vitality are the prevailing principles of the exhibition”

“The more a nude promotes sexuality, the more it is condemned” It is fair to say there is little subtlety to the sexual element of his work. Schiele’s model does not recline decorously like Titian’s Venus, but splays her legs and offers up her vagina like a macaroon on a plate.

Others of his paintings depict similar models locked in homosexual embrace. If there is a line between Schiele’s paintings and full frontal pornography, then it is as thin and wavering as those he uses to sketch his subjects’ limbs.

Yet whether or not those opposed to Schiele would like to admit it, the provocative content

of his work is only a more honest treatment of that which has always been the central tenet of the nude: sex.

Though it may have been dressed up with decorum and high art, the female nude has always, to some extent, been about gratifying the male gaze. This is nothing new; in the fourth century BC, the sculptor Praxiteles of Athens created several nude Aphrodites. One of these sculptures proved so alluring to her Greek audience that a man tried to copulate with her. Provocative as they are, you’ll be hard

pushed to find somebody trying the same with a Schiele painting.

Schiele is by no means the first artist to come under the firing line for breaking taboos.

Ingres’s Grand Odalisque of 1814 earned him a similar kind of disrepute. The painting is famous for its anatomical disproportion; taking a seductive concubine as his subject matter, Ingres elongates her back to an impossible length so that she is inhumanly curvy. She is the picture of an artist indulging his own exotic fantasy.

They are certainly, categorically, about nakedness. There is no barrier between the onlooker and the variously sprawled figures.

Skin is either cadaverously yellow or vibrant and fleshy, and limbs are jutting and ungainly.

Subject and viewer alike have nowhere to hide, as Schiele lays bare the corporeal reality of lust and sex.

This nakedness means that sometimes the figures feel almost clinically stark. Yet, despite this, his female sitters are never just objects.

There is no trace of the modernist misogyny rife amongst his contemporaries, none of the fear and loathing of female sexuality that can be found in Picasso’s Les Demoiselles D’avignon.

Rather, it is unavoidably clear that Schiele loved women, the female form and the erotic possibilities therein.

It is not only female nudes that populate this exhibition. Schiele later turned his gaze in upon himself and produced a series of nude selfportraits. But there is something much darker about these images, which show the artist in the grey and sallow hues of a decomposing corpse.

Remember that Schiele paints in the Vienna of Sigmund Freud. The Vienna of sex and death.

But sex and vitality are the prevailing principles of the works at this exhibition.

Though they are strange and sometimes verging on grotesque, Schiele’s nudes are fantastic expressions of sexuality and desire.

Schiele broke taboos. In so doing, he painted the ultimate celebration of the flesh.

arts

11

concrete.arts@uea.ac.uk

The Beast with Two Covers: Rethinking Sexuality in the Lit Canon Brett Mottram and Katie Kemp penetrate the inner depths of the Canon, unleashing the untamed voices of the literary world Sex has always been controversial. The word itself is harsh on the ear - it carries heavy connotations of the snake-like, particularly through the hissing quality of its sound, bringing to mind the Serpent who led Adam and Eve away from Paradise.

Consider the obscenity trials which ran throughout the 20th Century: a damning attempt to censor any explicit reference to sexual transgression in literature and film and, of course, theatre. Sex has always been accompanied by disgust; there is something in the sexual act which is abhorred by those in a position of authority, for its ability to challenge and confront the established laws of our society.

It is important, therefore, that we understand the position of the arts (and particularly here, the literary text) in allowing for a reimagining of our sexual ‘selves’, and how the history of the development of sex within the arts has contributed to a significant shift in our understanding of ourselves as social, political and, ultimately, sexual beings.

Below, Brett Mottram gives us an insight into some of the most important pieces of literature to uncover the sexual ‘beast’ within.

a remarkably convincing ventriloquising of female consciousness, given that it was written by a man. And there is beauty, too: the final page or so, when she remembers how Poldy proposed to her and she was “a flower of the mountain” and she draws him down “so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes...” Quotes do no justice to it. Just read it yourself – it’s stunning!

The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories Angela Carter Not exactly erotic, but sex pervades every page of this collection of short stories, often in brutal and macabre forms, as Carter plays with the fairy tale form. From the luxurious sadism of The Bloody Chamber itself, to the picaresque cheek of Puss in Boots, to the hauntingly affecting The Lady of the House of Love, this is shocking, beautiful and in places appallingly witty. Also recommended for sex content are Carter’s Nights at the Circus and Wise Children.

Limericks

The Pregnant Widow Martin Amis

The limerick packs laughs anatomical Into space that is quite economical, But the good ones I’ve seen So seldom are clean, And the clean ones so seldom are comical.

That Creative Feeling

Ana Dukakis

and cry (sometimes at the same time) as Amis explores the Sexual Revolution and its effect on the boys and girls who were its first beneficiaries – and victims. Warning: contains mature and contemplative touches. For something lighter overall, try Amis’ first novel, The Rachel Papers.

An Italian castle in the summer of 1970.

Keith Nearing is on holiday during the summer break from university with his onand-off girlfriend Lily. The problem is that her formidably gorgeous friend, Scheherazade (who likes to sunbathe topless by the pool) has come along too. Will Keith, between reading his way through the English Novel, find a way to sleep with her? With a cast of other vibrant characters and comic set-pieces, this will make you laugh

Elegy: To His Mistress Going to Bed John Dunne This poem gets a lot of stick, with critics questioning how consensual the relationship presented actually is. But read it yourself, and notice the items of clothing she actually does take off - it’s by no means only the speaker’s fantasy! Very racy, but memorable and sometimes beautiful as well: ‘O my America’ onwards is especially fine.

To His Coy Mistress Andrew Marvell

These are unjustly omitted from discussions of literature, but for something erudite, check out “There was a young lady from Bruges” or “Girls who frequent picture palaces”; for clerical (and gay), see “The Anglican Dean of Hong Kong”, or “The Bishop of Central Japan”; and, well… surely everyone knows “There once was a hooker from Crewe” and “There was a young man from Nantucket”?

Try this as a chat-up line! “Had we but world enough and time, / This coyness, lady, were no crime”. Brilliant in some ways, and great poetry, but very direct about mortality and sex at the end: be ‘like amorous birds of prey’ and ‘at once [your] time devour’.

Ulysses James Joyce Now don’t get me wrong: you couldn’t get off on Joyce, but the final section, ‘Penelope’ or Molly Bloom’s soliloquy, presents one of the most libidinous characters in all literature. It is also

BigActive

e writing

Microfictions

Submit your own to @miniaturestory on Twitter Love poem for an Hourglass. Glass skin, pinched waist.

Made of a thousand things. I love how you shine. Draw a long breath to pass the time.

ativewriting@uea.ac.uk

hips

13

My Orphan Year Anonymous

We live in a time where you can type Zapruder into a computer and watch a president die right in front of your eyes. But you’re not watching that right now, you’re checking out the Brazzers made parody of The Wolf of Wall Street: it’s called The Whore of Wall Street.

You move from the parody to a video about Monique Alexander having to fuck a guy to get a part in a movie. You’re in an HD site that loads videos fast; you can go full screen and the resolution doesn’t screw up. She’s got this post-surgery upper lip that looks like Katie Price’s lip. You get grossed out. Monique Alexander is fucking gross. She’s got red hair, however, and that’s enough to keep you watching and touching yourself for an additional five seconds.

You move from Monique Alexander to Jayden James giving a foot job. You move from Jayden to Krissy playing a sex-driven robot. You move from Krissy to Christy, from Christy to Kagney, from Kagney to Audrey. It’s the same process every day and you never question your dogmatic return to it. You’re a boomerang to the controlling hand of Wi-Fi convenience.

You’re jacking off more than you used to. It’s been bad since April and now you’re doing it just because it’s there to do. It taunts you, even when you’re not intentionally looking for it.

Ads on the side of Facebook ask you to meet singles as much as porn sites do. BuzzFeed lures you in with lists of things you never needed to know, where you’re bound to find one daring picture to get your hand on your dick. Lists are great. Lists are the shit. People love knowing how long their time will be wasted; it allows them to rationalise their procrastination through a time limit. Fuck BuzzFeed.

You move from Jessica Lynn to Bree Olson to Bridgette B. Fucking love Bridgette B. She’s just imperfect enough and ridiculous in her figure to appear so fucking attractive. Click.

You’re on a new video. Click. Bridgette’s a single mom. Click. Bridgette’s a cheating wife.

Click. Bridgette’s a lusty Latina, always. She squirts, that’s your favourite one, and while he holds her clit with the tip of his forefinger and middle finger, her juices are met with yours.

You clear your history.

You’re watching Faye Reagan act in her emotionless corpse-like manner. You think back to your ex-girlfriend. Not the one you broke up with last Friday, no, the one who you’ve rekindled some flirtatious common ground with. You imagine her straddling you, cowgirl style, her pure and pasty white skin mashed against your more tanned but nevertheless middle-class white boy skin. You don’t watch Faye for the mannerisms. You watch her for the skin, and partly the hair. She was a redhead when you last saw her. She’s much shorter than you but you guys worked, you loved making her come when she straddled you on that chair.

You remember her lips making an impression of the fifteenth letter of the alphabet, then shutting tight along with her eyes, how she quivered in her orgasm. You hunger to touch her skin as you hungered for her then.

Conversations can never be pressed beyond implying one’s want for one another. Distance renders your attraction not to be towards an old ex but towards Facebook and Facetime. You recall her finding out that you broke up with your most recent girlfriend, asking to call you on Facetime and being happy she can speak to you like this again. She falls asleep with you there. There are two people in the world you let sleep in front of you on webcam: her and your most recent ex girlfriend you dumped last Friday, but only when you were dating. Is she breaking the rules?

anything, you would love the holy alliance of your lips, the final snapshot of intimacy that Hollywood beautified beyond any awesome sexual manoeuvre. It’s the same process. You make passionate love, you fuck like rabbits, you exchange ‘I love you’s and you clear your history in anticipation of next time.

You get out of the porn site and go to Naughty America. There are no free videos there, but you look through categories and you go shopping. You find a video you like and Google the name and scene.

Sunny Marie Naughty Bookworm.

About 336,000 Results (0.21 Seconds).

Simple as that. You find the video and you watch it. You’re hoping for that sixty-nine they promised in the preview photos where you originally found her. No. She’s loud, she’s annoying, her facial expressions repulse you and she has that same lip. That same one from Monique has.

You’re going back to uni on Thursday. You’d like to think there are possibilities of fucking on Thursday and Friday. Maybe yes, maybe no. You’re not sure of when you’ll get the chance really. You haven’t gotten laid since September; it’s May now. You need sex. It is the longterm dire yearning for respiration.

You can’t focus on the girl forgetting about her earlier life decisions towards college. You can’t focus on her throwing it away to have a small reputation and being forgotten once her tits get saggy. You keep thinking back to a song. Go on YouTube and you’ll see it recommended for you since you’ve played it so much.

So dad I can forgive you, but I’ll never forget, You watch Sophie Dee being awfully nice, then being completely slated with a dick. Sunny Marie let the man exterminate her anus. It didn’t make the video much better, it just reminded you of how accessible and non-important she becomes.

Alone and only nine, I watched the outer limits, scared out of my mind, You move from Pornhub to Redtube to Xvideos. You’re never on too much weird shit because you’re not a monster. You watch girls you don’t even know. You watch a girl you’ve never seen before but she reminds you of that 9 you never scored. You remember it like you were watching it on a porn site. Drunken night, you see a beautiful girl, strong black hair, largeframed nerd glasses. You make out but you don’t feel it because you drank too much. Because you attacked her face she got bored and left. It was the “bathroom” but when you saw her again she had no excuse. She just wanted you to fuck off. And you did. The song repeats.

My father had dementia, Clear history.

Are you an asshole for moving on that quick? You move onto a video of a girl who’s too drunk to notice this will go viral, both online and vaginally. She told you that if you didn’t see yourself with her any longer then it was the right thing to end it. So you did, last Friday.

Yes it was the right thing, but then your ex before her calls you up and suddenly you know she wants you just as bad as you want her and you can’t spare a thought for the girl whose future you just wrecked. You stay on the same video. That girl went to college to make her parents proud. You wonder if her father will see how far her asshole stretches by coming upon this video, or maybe coming to this video.

What you end up coming to doesn’t mean shit to you. You’ll forget about it in a few minutes.

You’re a mess. Even though you’ll clean up, the cum will dry up on your belly leaving solid hairs on the strip from your pelvis to your belly button. You realize it’s not these girls you’re looking forward to on Thursday and Friday, but the title of sex. You promised yourself you’d never fuck for the sake of bragging rights. The only person you want is short, black-haired now; E or F sized tits, dimpled smile and pasty white skin. The only girl you want now isn’t real, you want her to de-evolve from the time she spent without you, you want someone dead, you want her to be the girl you loved again. You feel a pang of suffering at what you’ve become.

You dated one girl for two years, you got to touch her, lust after her, lick her and be inside her and you still want more. You did long distance with another one for six months and broke up with her last Friday. Ex #1 messages you the moment she hears you’re back on the market. Does that make you a bad person?

It’s the same process. You lurk on the Internet for what you’ll never have again, you try to look for it in another girl and you ruin her life when you get bored and leave. Another girl whose heart is broken. Another girl you infuriate for the sake of sex. You lie to them with love and kill them with the truth. Then you clear your history and start again.

You wish, while she rode you cowgirl style, that you could passionately kiss. More than

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Student housing myths Housing Week is on the way. Check out the Home Run pages for our brand new YouTube clip exploding some common student housing myths.

POSTGRAD EVENTS THIS WEEK Post grad football at 7pm Monday in the Sportspark Post grad badminton at 5:40-6:20pm Wednesday, Sportspark, Hall 3 Wine and cheese tasting hosted by the Travel Society, Wednesday at 7pm Post grad Meet and Mingle in the Grad Bar with DJ Thursday at 9pm Chiquito Meal hosted by the Language Society, Thursday at 7pm

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gaming + tech

15

concrete.gamingtech@uea.ac.uk

Dice with Living Death Tarmia Mears reviews Dead Of Winter

Scarlet Dawson

Sex Toys with Souls Holly J. McDede plays with some vibrators in Norwich’s own Sinsins This summer, I found myself in San Francisco, sitting with two physicists and a biohacker in a restaurant. The biohacker, Sunny Allen, asked me, “Would you like to see it now?” and then put it on the table. I smiled, afraid to ask, “So. How do vibrators work again?” It wasn’t just a sex toy; it was among the greatest orgasms she ever had and the world’s first artificially intelligent vibrator. I ran my hand through the toy called Hum - and it memorised my speed.

I moved my hand slower, and it vibrated slower with me. The slow pulsating hum was in tune with the rhythm of my body. I feared sex toys. But that’s part of the reason the team behind Hum decided to make love instead of war. They hope to remove the taboo still lingering around sex toys. To bring them to restaurant tables and have open, intelligent

conversations about them.

Then, I went back to Norwich. Norwich is not San Francisco. It’s quieter, quainter. So is its only independent sex toy shop, Sinsins Boutique of Love. It was founded in 2000 when its owner, Martin Price, emerged from a dark sex toy shop. “By the time I got out, my wallet was empty, my bag was full of tat, and I was red as a beatroot,” he said. “I love sex. I wanted to do something about it.”

He makes sure all his sex toys look good.

Take the Tenga 3D pile masturbator. It looks more like a sculpture than a vibrator, and consists of over 100 simulating triangles.

“Boy toys have improved dramatically.

You would never assume that something as well-packaged and beautiful as this would be for male masturbation,” Price said. Then he held up an egg vibrator so cute that the

Easter Bunny may have delivered it. “It’s got love hearts all over it. It’s a nice present for someone to buy just to say, ‘Hey, let’s have fun. But I also love you’.”

They also offer the We-Vibe 4 Plus. It allows long-distance couples to make custom vibration playlists by choosing a vibe, duration and intensity. After they’ve set up the playlist, they send it off to their partner.

Now, Price says, sex toys have evolved, but only slowly. “A long time ago, it was clearly products designed by guys without much imagination, without much heart, without much soul, and they put that out into the market. Things have changed,” he said.

Sinsins is located at 2 Charing Cross Road, just off St. Benedict’s Street. Keep in mind, Christmas is right around the corner.

...Actually, It’s About Ethics Dian Atamyanov explores the #GamerGate Controversy Sex scandals are lowbrow journalism’s bread and butter. From former US president Bill Clinton to celebrity model Kim Kardashian, it seems that no one’s bedroom secrets are ever safe. Traditionally, stories of this kind were almost exclusively a feature of tabloids and gossip sites, where they amounted to nothing more than public shaming in the guise of news. It seems, however, that social media has broken these traditions, and in more ways than one. Any gamer who’s been active on Twitter these past few months is no doubt aware of the outrage that has swept through the gaming community. But GamerGate, as it is now widely referred to, does not appear to be like other scandals.

It all started in August this year, when game developer Zoe Quinn’s former boyfriend published a long piece, along with some private correspondences, alleging her relationship

with a number of men in the gaming industry.

Within days, the internet exploded with references to the allegations, which soon after grew into heated discussions on ethics and corruption in gaming journalism. Although it wasn’t until actor Adam Baldwin (no, they’re not related) commented about it on Twitter with the hashtag “GamerGate” that the controversy gained its current identity and momentum. Since then, media and gamers have been at each other’s throats, with each camp dishing out their own abuse and smear campaigns in an effort to discredit the other. Narratives like ‘GamerGate is driven by misogyny’ and ‘the gamer is dead,’ are more or less dogma for mainstream media, while on the other side, conspiracies are thrown left and right to implicate each and every critic of the movement into one large sinister cabal.

To understand why GamerGate has evolved

this way, look no further than the relationship between gamers and the gaming industry.

The way companies operate or perhaps fail to operate is by imposing restrictive digital rights management practices and generally treating consumers like cash cows. These methods then transfer over to the press, who are often seen as obedient to rather than critical of the industry. Stories of expensive gifts, lavish parties and close relationships between journalists and developers have permeated the gaming culture and have logically led to tensions between consumers and the industry. In other words, this was a collision waiting to happen, and Zoe Quinn’s alleged affairs were simply the push that was needed to get the ball rolling. So if things are to calm down, there must be some form of dialogue and mutual understanding, else this Gate will never fully close.

Throw away your never-ending games of Zombie Fluxx. Don’t bother with The Walking Dead again. Give your copy of Last Night on Earth a rest. There’s a new board game about the unrelenting zombie apocalypse, and it’s actually pretty darn good.

Dead of Winter is a meta-cooperative board game in which 2-5 players must complete tasks and missions in order to survive the first winter of the zombie apocalypse. The game manages to narrowly skirt the edges of zombie oversaturation by having the gameplay focus on the survivors themselves rather than the undead horde, which is a welcome change of approach. Murdering zombies is one aspect of the game. Though gathering supplies, completing missions and rooting out traitors amongst your teammates take precedence, thus separating Dead of Winter from other zombie-themed board games.

Each game has an overarching objective, and each round has a mini-objective. To add to this, players have a secret alignment card which determines whether they are working towards the benefit of the group, or looking to sabotage the group for their own gains.

Players roll and spend dice to determine their actions on a turn, whether that be killing zombies, looting the town or keeping the base colony safe. At first glance, Dead of Winter may seem complicated for newbie board gamers, but anyone who isn’t scared of branching out beyond Monopoly should give it a try – if the £49.99 RRP doesn’t bother you.

Thankfully, the game has a lot of replay value for that amount of money. There are 30 different characters to choose from, multiple objective cards and a deck of “crossroads” cards that add flavour to each turn, meaning every game will play differently enough that it doesn’t feel samey. The art on the cards is also very detailed, and each character and zombie is represented by a cardboard standee rather than a flat token, which adds to the value of the game.

Overall, Dead of Winter is a fun board game with enough variety to combat the large price-tag. It has mechanics similar to other highly-rated board games such as Battlestar Galactica, The Resistance: Avalon and Eldritch Horror, so fans of those should consider giving this a try. If you’re a board game newbie, don’t let the slightly complicated mechanics put you off. Once you get the hang of it, you’ll be bludgeoning zombies like the best of us.

television

16

concrete.television@uea.ac.uk

Let’s Talk About Asexuals Amelia Morris

Nour Ibrahim talks Fargo’s Molly It’s not hard to love Molly Solverson, and it’s not hard because she’s the only intelligent life there seems to be on FX’s Fargo, a loose, serialised re-telling of the Coen Brothers’ classic film of the same name. Unless of course you consider Malvo, but he’s a homicidal psychopath and we really shouldn’t be sympathising with him.

But that’s a whole other issue, for a whole other article.

The sexism, paternal or otherwise, towards Deputy Molly Solverson (all praise to Alison Tolman for her breakout portrayal) leaves the viewer frustrated because she’s the only one doing her job, and doing it well. Molly pretty much just takes all the belittling in her stride. She does not fight. She does not assert herself. She tries her best to do her job without undermining her new chief, who is a well-meaning but sentimental idiot (played wonderfully by Bob Odenkirk). Everyone seems to forget that Molly is a cop and can damn well take care of herself. Despite filling a traditionally male role, Molly suffers from the same sexism the rest of the women on the show do.

Which brings me to the rest of the women on the show, who are basically throwaway characters and stereotypes. Lester Nygaard (Martin Freeman) kills his overbearing and constantly belittling wife, and

gets away with it as the mumbling bereaved widower. He then proceeds to remarry, only to knowingly send his incompetently naïve second wife to her death. The widow Hess, who exists as pissed-off eye candy and purely as an outlet for Lester, speaks in vulgar clichés often associated with former-strippers-turnedtrophy-wives depicted on TV (…which she is). Lester’s sister-in-law is more upset that her husband cheated on her with a woman she deems less attractive than her, than she is that he might be a murderer. We all but forget the first chief ’s saintly wife Ida, who gives birth and that’s about it. It’s a great contrast and foreshadowing for Molly, but the character of Ida has no character. None of the other women on the show really do.

In the end, despite all of her hard work, Molly is asked to step aside for her own good, and doesn’t get to nab Malvo. In fact, she never actually has any interaction with Malvo. As the epitome of good and the epitome of bad, it’s interesting that Hawley never had them meet. They are on the same level, but opposite planes – and the men in Molly’s life try damn hard to keep it that way. At no point do we see a woman acting in a truly aggressive, evil or violent manner. Instead they often provide moments of ‘comic’ relief. Molly doesn’t go

completely unacknowledged though. With her new family sitting contentedly on the couch, watching TV, she informs us that despite not being the one to bring Malvo to justice, “I get to be chief.” At the end she gets her validation and the consolation prize of getting to be chief.

The show doesn’t veer too far from the Coen Brothers’ constant trope of ‘boys will be boys but with real world application and consequences that often end in absurd amounts of bloodshed and stupidity’ – so the (minor) portrayal of female characters was not all too surprising.

So, here’s the question that’s been eating me up: is Hawley being ironic, hitting us over the head with overt sexism towards Molly and underdeveloped female characters? And is any of this obvious, at all? For the sake of a show being praised as one of the best dramas of the year, let’s hope so. This rather pervasive, niggling expression of inequality and feminism is very subtly done. Or really, and blatantly, just sexist. Take your pick. Since Fargo is designed as an anthology series, here’s to hoping that next season we see some well-developed females who aren’t just the ‘good’ foil to their ‘bad’ male counterparts.

Asexuality: a sexual orientation defined by a lack of sexual attraction to any gender.

Normally, this means they are uninterested in sex. You’d be forgiven for never having heard of it, as with only an estimated 1% of the population asexual, it never really comes up when people talk about diversity in television.

TV shows, sitcoms especially, tend to revolve around who’s sleeping with whom.

Characters without such romantic or sexual entanglements are the exception, not the rule.

Take Sheldon Cooper from The Big Bang Theory, a character who, for most of the show’s early run, had little interest in romance or sex.

Yet the introduction of Amy Farrah Fowler showed Sheldon to be capable of something like a romantic relationship, and the two sleeping together is considered by many to be a “possibility.”.

“Moffatt called the orientation boring” Even the most famously asexual character, Sherlock Holmes, is often played as heterosexual in adaptions. Johnny Lee Miller’s Holmes in Elementary enjoys sex, and has a lot of it.

Cumberbatch’s Holmes in the ever-popular Sherlock has never had a sexual relationship in the course of the show, but creator Steven Moffat has stated that he doesn’t write Holmes as asexual. Indeed, he called the orientation “boring”, claiming there was no dramatic tension in a character that has no desire for sex.

Would an asexual character really be that “boring”? It’d be risky to include them, sure.

You’d have to teach people something new, and audiences don’t always want to learn. But asexual doesn’t necessarily mean uninterested in romance - many asexual people have healthy and sexless romantic relationships. Is it that

“Asexuality deserves recognition” hard to come up with plot lines and character development that don’t revolve around sex?

I think not. TV is changing. It’s becoming less and less acceptable to feature casts of nothing but white, heterosexual males. Just like any other sexual orientation, asexuality deserves recognition in the media. Even the more progressive shows, like Netflix’s original series Orange is the New Black, don’t feature a character on the asexual spectrum. The Doctor, generally asexual in classic Who, has been sexed up in the reboot. It’s almost becoming harder to find asexual representation, not easier.

But who cares, right? They’re one percent of the population, you probably don’t even know anybody asexual. Except, that’s one in one hundred, so you probably do.

television

17

concrete.television@uea.ac.uk

Pix 123

Gayme of Thrones Dan Struthers looks at the gay scene in Westeros “Incest, beheading, attempted child murder, more incest...and that’s just the first episode!” Honest Trailers summarises why we are all obsessed with Game of Thrones. Equally, it’s for the above reasons that you would never watch an episode of George R. R. Martin’s epic fantasy drama with your mum. From the intimate scenes between brother and sister Jaime and Cersei Lannister, dubbed ‘twincest’, to the violent and savage death of your favourite character (rule one: don’t get attached to anyone), Game of Thrones is not your typical Saturday night dinnertime family TV show. For a series which seems to have one compulsory sex scene per episode, fans and critics alike have drawn attention to and criticised the books for their lack of gay ‘viewpoint characters.’ They’re the characters from whose perspective the story is told.

Whilst male characters Loras Tyrell and Renly Baratheon certainly get intimate several

“Oberyn Martell is seen openly enjoying the best of both worlds” times, which the books hint at but never confirm, this is a rare occurrence compared to the amount of heterosexual sex shown.

Author George R. R. Martin was recently quoted as saying, “I’m not going to [include homosexual sex] just for the sake of doing it.

If the plot lends itself to that, if one of my viewpoint characters is in a situation, then I’m not going to shy away from it, but you can’t just insert things because everyone wants to see them.” Though many thought this statement from Martin was a cop-out, it is true that in the context of the show the gay characters would not be as well received if they ‘came out’ in Westeros as they would in our world, so the lack of openly gay characters makes sense given the rules of the show. The HBO show does focus on characters such as everyone’s favourite Dornish heartthrob Oberyn Martell who is seen openly enjoying the best of both worlds, as is the Dornish way.

His first scene depicts him seducing both men and women which the books only insinuate.

Stephen Dillane, better known as Stannis Baratheon, one of the many contenders of the Iron Throne, likened the frequent heterosexual, and less frequent homosexual sex scenes from Game of Thrones to “German porn from the 1970’s” and whilst the comparison may be lost on many, some critics have certainly panned the show’s graphic sex scenes. The Emmy Award-winning show doesn’t shy away from the taboo subject of rape, the writers adding scenes such as Daenerys Targaryen and Khal Drogo’s brutal sex scenes - which are consensual in the books. Another scene that angered many fans, myself included, was the inclusion of Jaime Lannister seemingly raping his sister/lover,

Cersei, which was added by the writers of the show just when Jaime was actually starting to become more likeable. Jaime’s story has been

“The lack of openly gay characters makes sense given the rules of the show” one of the most complex and interesting in both the books and TV series after nearly killing 10 year old Bran, perhaps trying to save us from his boring storyline involving his bloody ‘three-eyed raven’, he begins a redemptive arc which is then tarnished by the aforementioned scene. The show has also being labelled ‘torture porn’ after the brutal castration of the traitorous Theon Greyjoy, which surely made every man who watched it wince, as Theon spent the whole of season three being tortured on a crucifix by the bastard Ramsay Snow, or as you may also know him, ‘Simon from Misfits’. However, in the bigger picture, compared to many other well-known mainstream TV shows, Game of Thrones does further explore attitudes to homosexuality and features more homosexual characters than other shows which seem to shy away from such issues.

However, in the bigger picture, compared to many other well-known mainstream TV shows, Game of Thrones does further explore attitudes to homosexuality and features more

homosexual characters than other shows which seem to shy away from such issues. Shows such as Orange Is the New Black, Torchwood and revolutionary drama Queer as Folk, the last two penned by Doctor Who writer Russell T Davies, are some of the only mainstream successes of gay, lesbian and bisexual drama.

Orange is the New Black is an exception to the rule as the Netflix series has been nominated for multiple awards, enjoying success on both sides of the Atlantic and boasts a mix of lesbian, transgender, and at the heart of the TV series, a bisexual protagonist. Whilst Game of Thrones doesn’t have any lesbian

“The show has also been labelled torture porn after the brutal castration of Theon Greyjoy” characters, the closest being bisexual Dornish woman Ellaria Sand, paramour to Oberyn Martell, it involves a few lesbian scenes such as Daenerys’ intimate scenes with her servant who teaches her ‘the Dothraki way’, probably aimed at heterosexual men let’s face it.

Okay, to enforce my point I’m going to ask you to rack your brains. Think of your favourite TV series and then try and pinpoint any gay characters in it (not just in a one off episode, I’m talking about a series regular).

See what I mean?

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Mr. Turner

Director and Writer Mike Leigh Starring Timothy Spall, Paul Jesson, Dorothy Atkinson Runtime 150 mins Biography/Drama Joe Frost J. M. W. (Joseph Mallord William) Turner lived from 1775 to 1851; within that time he managed to amass a huge portfolio of art and, while often controversial in his lifetime, is now one of the most renowned artists in history and considered by many to be a genius.

Timothy Spall takes the eponymous role in Mike Leigh’s new film, which focuses on the last 25 years of the artist’s life. There is little plot in a conventional sense but rather Leigh chooses to flit between scenes, honing in on moments of importance that slowly piece together the puzzle that Turner is presented to be. A mix of emotion pervades the work: there are poignant themes such as the tenderly fragile devotion displayed

by Turner’s abused housekeeper (played to tearprovoking perfection by Dorothy Atkinson)

Horns

Director Alexandre Aja Writer Keith Bunin Starring Daniel Radcliffe, Juno Temple, Max Minghella Runtime 120 mins Comedy/Horror George Barker Daniel Radcliffe saves what may have been a mediocre affair, but only just. The film is essentially a thriller following Ignatius (from the Latin for ‘fire’) Perrish (Daniel Radcliffe) as he unravels the mystery of his girlfriend's murder. The film does just enough to keep you interested largely thanks to Radcliffe’s performance, shining during moments of black comedy as Ig embraces his devilish side to get the answers he needs. The efforts of the supporting cast fall a bit flat. You never really see enough of Merrin's (Juno Temple)

and the plight of Benjamin Haydon (Martin Savage in one of the film’s stand-out supporting performances). But also, hilarious scenes are present in abundance; a particularly memorable one features a young John Ruskin, who would later become a famed art critic, obnoxiously spouting his views to Turner and others - Joshua McGuire who plays him, does an excellent job and delightfully appears almost like a Victorian version of The Young Ones’ Rick.

For the audience members who know Turner only through his paintings (likely in the majority), Spall’s performance may be rather shocking. Leigh has achieved a stunning portrayal of an incredibly complicated man: someone of huge intelligence and classical knowledge but at the same time often highly irreverent, unpredictable and eccentric to the point of borderline insanity. Spall, who actually spent two years learning to paint in preparation for the role, strides through the film, every line he speaks is captivating and the often employed grunting becomes just as evocative. Spall shows Turner at his most cruel but also the emotional turmoil at his most human; it is one of the greatest lead performances in recent memory and it will quickly become clear to the viewer that the actor’s win at Cannes earlier this year

was hugely deserved.

One of the great joys of watching a Mike Leigh film comes from the knowledge that the director works very closely with his cast at a creative level. Often he will encourage actors to draw their characters from people they know and the story will develop through improvisations based around this. Obviously with Mr. Turner this is slightly different. However, meticulous research mixed with Leigh’s usual organic

method has once again created something near ineffably good.

Aside from its great performances, the actual cinematography of the film is one of its strongest points. From the very outset we are treated to supremely beautiful shots of natural landscapes and throughout the film various breathtaking locations are unveiled to us. In these moments, we feel very much that we are on a visual tour of Turner’s actual inspirations and it is hard not to simply sit in awe of what Leigh presents to us. Added to this, the score (composed

by Gary Yershon, a previous collaborator of Leigh’s) knows exactly when to haunt us with

its beautiful strings. Leigh is not afraid of the use of silence in his work, which achieves some magnificent effects but unfortunately can be problematic in a crowded cinema.

The film may not be to everyone’s taste but it’s one that if you love it, you’ll wish it were.

The running time of 150 minutes may be offputting but it really glides by. A slight scruple would be that towards the end everyone seems to rapidly age for the necessity of plot, which was achieved by the slightly jarring process of at least three actors’ hair suddenly changing colour.

Perhaps this problem is unfounded though as there are some indefinite time leaps in the final few scenes and these cosmetic changes are much more welcome than any Benjamin Button CGI frivolity.

Sadly, this review has only skimmed the surface of what is an immensely rich film. Regardless of your knowledge of the art or opinions on filmed biopics, Mr. Turner is universal. It is a truly unique experience in current entertainment and a trip to the cinema is heartily recommended.

relation with Ig to properly appreciate their bond, while many of the characters go through rather sudden developments without substantial explanation.

The film’s soundtrack is all over the place with guitar riffs, piano and Jazz,

graded to give vivid colours evoking an almost fairytale-like style. With so much going on, the film fails to capitalise on any of these elements; whilst present, they don’t really have much of an impact on the film.

The Guardian Horns tries to be too many things, and while its dark comedy is good, there simply isn't enough.

The film has darker elements but not enough to call it a horror film, and while the narrative keeps you interested, the ending confirms its status as a thriller. Though it does manage to keep you interested until the end, its final sequence, admittedly action-packed, comes as a let-down to an interesting mystery.

The

ending has no real impact as the reveal is obvious early on and the relationships on which it hinges are simply underdeveloped.

Essentially, it feels like this film is trying its hand at a few things without settling on any of them. With films like Fury and Nightcrawler in cinemas, and Interstellar coming soon, there's no real reason to go out and pay for Horns over these. Perhaps it might not be such a bad film to take a date to, as maybe they don’t like tanks, and a high octane film like Nightcrawler might prove too much of a distraction from you, whereas Horns has a bit of everything. Radcliffe is entertaining. There’s also some action, some romance, a bit of nice camera work and the slightly scarier moments of the film might remove the need to fake a yawn to put your arm round them. If you miss the ending because you’re otherwise occupied, it’s not too much of a loss.

“Damn right they’re horns!” lacking cohesion and making it a forgettable affair. On a positive note (pun fully intended) some diegetic uses of David Bowie’s Heroes are nicely worked into the film. The imagery of the film is split as well, Christian icons such as the cross are prominent, whilst number plates on cars such as 2036LUK reference Bible passages. This contrasts with the depiction of Merrin who often appears in Ig’s childhood treehouse in the forest, shots

“You still making your nice little pictures, Mr Turner?”

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Calvin Goldspink

concrete.film@uea.ac.uk

Nightcrawler

Director and Writer Dan Gilroy Starring Jake Gyllenhaal, Rene Russo, Bill Paxton, Riz Ahmed Runtime 117 mins Thriller Adam White There once was a time when the fastest way to discover a weirdo in your ranks was if, when driving past a horrible accident, someone in the vehicle requested that the car slow down so they could gawk at whatever’s splattered across the roadside. Now, via the burgeoning voyeurism of mainstream media, we've all inadvertently been turned into creepster lookyloos, generally accepting salacious soundbites and graphic descriptions of crime scenes as part of the everyday. Hell, it’s a surprise when people reach for their mobiles not to take camera-phone footage of a messy injury but instead to call an ambulance.

Nightcrawler is set in the world of ‘freelance crime journalism’, a fancier term for weirdos who drive around in vans and intercept crime scenes in order to tape on-the-spot footage.

After nabbing the most gruesome shots, they sell it all on to the highest bidder, essentially whichever news station ponies up the largest pile of cash. Jake Gyllenhaal’s petty criminal Lou Bloom inadvertently stumbles upon a successful freelance team and decides to get in on the action himself, striking up a complex relationship with fraught local news producer

Nina (Rene Russo) in the process, all the while trying to develop his craft and make a name for himself through increasingly disturbed means.

A gnarly, grey-skinned enigma, Lou Bloom is almost an anti-protagonist, absolutely devoid of any semblance of back-story or personal context. Instead his entire personality is cribbed together from self-help books and philosophical mantras, ‘How to Win at Life’-style wisdom that he reels off with ease and charm. He’s also incredibly likeable, so awkwardly funny in his eccentricity that it only makes it that much more shocking when the other shoe drops, and Lou suddenly becomes something more sadistic and nasty, even monstrous.

“Think of our newscast as a screaming woman running down the street with her throat cut” It is another powerhouse performance from Jake Gyllenhaal, who is in the midst of a far more low-key version of Matthew McConaughey’s career turnaround of late, stepping away from faceless big-budget studio pictures and into weirder, more challenging roles. Existing somewhere in the middle of Robert De Niro in Taxi Driver and Christian Bale in American Psycho, Gyllenhaal slides between glimmers of charm and full-blown madness, his skeletal frame only exaggerating his enormous, pleading eyes. He’s sort of like Puss in Boots, if Puss in Boots were a huge freak.

He’s matched by an unusually prominent Rene Russo, essentially ‘the wife’ in every movie in the 1990’s, playing a woman growing old in a hard, butch, ratings-hungry world. There’s a curious sexual frisson to her interaction with Lou, just as repulsed by his ugly definition of courtship as she is seemingly aroused whenever he delivers to her footage of a critically-injured car crash victim or a slaughtered family.

It’s a tonal tightrope that Nightcrawler itself explores throughout, writer/director Dan Gilroy satirising the race-baiting and grisly provocation of modern TV news and critiquing our own thirst for scandal and gore, yet never finger-wagging at us either. Nicely for a film of its type, there’s nothing truly judgmental or arrogant about Nightcrawler; characters are riddled with complexity and

not in a fun and unpredictable way either. They just appear, like an unwanted bout of thrush crucially unnecessary.

Speaking of atmosphere, oh wait there isn’t any. It’s a shame because one thing Ouija does do right is its performances. And all of the cast put in a lot more effort than the script requires, particularly lead Olivia Cooke, who manages to somewhat inject life into her cookie-cutter character and proves that she really does need to find a new agent. Even a brief cameo by veteran Lin Shaye demonstrates her indisputable talent

Ouija

Director Stiles White Writers Juliet Snowden, Stiles White Starring Olivia Cooke, Ana Coto, Daren Kagasoff, Bianca Santos Runtime 89 mins Horror Neven Devies It’s Halloween, and that can only mean one thing: another run-of-the-mill horror film bastardised by the all-engulfing Hollywood machine. For almost a decade, the coveted release date has been taken over by both the Saw and Paranormal Activity sequels. But this year, with the supposed end of the Saw series and Paramount having been unable to find a suitable way to move the muddle narrative of the Paranormal Activity franchise forward (who knew they were even trying?), the date has been snapped up by Universal Pictures for Ouija, an easy contender for the most pointless mainstream horror film to hit the silver screen this century.

To summarise the almost non-existent plot: when Debbie is mysteriously killed after playing with a Ouija board, her grieving friends decide to break into her house and contact her through the ouija board but inadvertently bring

refuse to become traditional archetypes, with even Lou’s good-hearted ‘intern’ (a winning Riz Ahmed) allowed more shading than you'd initially expect.

Like the intimidating yet oddly beautiful ‘night-time Los Angeles’ it captures so well, like vintage Michael Mann, Nightcrawler is gritty and unusual, as fun as it is unexpectedly profound. It’s a film that sneaks up on you like a strange figure in a dark alleyway, someone who'll either charm the pants off of you or alternatively stab you with a bread knife. Or do both at once. It's that kind of movie.

something back which murders them oneby-one. The film is truly as conventional as it gets and follows the tiring routine exemplified by countless slasher films which precede it.

Worst of all, there is absolutely no mystery presented here whatsoever. The seed is planted by the suggestion that the entity may actually originate from Debbie’s house, but all is resolved in a shockingly insulting ten minute sequence of exposition where literally ever-y-thing is explained to the audience in one go. So there goes any hope of the film providing a half decent story.

The film can’t even get character development right and resorts to using Horror 101 cut-outs.

We have the nice one, the rebel, the boyfriend, the dead girl’s boyfriend, oh, and the annoying sibling for that exotic dash of nuclear family drama. Even worse, none of the characters make any rational decisions throughout the film,

simply walking from set piece to set piece with zero purpose, they are simply puppets in the film’s undercooked narrative.

A lack of clear narrative and character development wouldn't seem as bad if Ouija managed to provide a barrage of effective scares, but therein lies its greatest fault - there are none. Sure, you have your conventional jack-in-the-box jump scares which pop up at a frustratingly constant rate of 357 seconds per five minutes, but it’s a numbingly cheap move on behalf of the filmmakers. After all, there is only a certain frequency of decibels our bodies can handle before the physiological reaction is to be startled. It’s an insulting trend within commercial cinema that needs to stop. Worst of all, there is absolutely no build up to these scares. No macabre ambiance or lingering tension which slowly creeps under the skin.

The jump scares just come out of nowhere, and

“I don’t think this is a good idea” at owning every scene which she appears in.

In the end, well there isn’t much to say about Ouija and it's rather telling when the most a film achieves is having the title of Hasbro’s first ever horror film. Yes, to make matters worse it's based on a board game. Had it allowed itself to up the violent content for a much needed boost of viscerality, or even embraced its clichés and ventured into the realm of campy parody, it may have warranted for a far more entertaining watch. However, Ouija just remains dull and unnecessary Halloween fodder, inoffensive in the most offensive way possible.

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Light the candles, scatter the rose petals and whap off your kit because we’ve got a super-steamy sex special for you dirty minxes this week. Lie back and enjoy...

The Stigma of the Penis Silvia Rose gets knee-deep in research and investigates the absence of the male member in cinema Why is the penis still hiding? Cinema has always reflected cultural values, so one would think that in our apparently liberated and open-minded society that there would be less of a bias of genitalia in film. However, there still exists a startling double standard in terms of what is shown on screen. Women’s bodies have always been on display, whether for artistic, pornographic, or more recently, advertising purposes, and this over-saturation within the media makes female nudity almost banal. Think of breasts. They’re everywhere, even in mainstream Hollywood blockbusters (maybe especially so). The female form is no longer restricted to daring art-house pieces; it is there for the taking, laid out to be looked at, criticised or lusted after. Male sexual organs are far less exposed.

There seems to be some uncertainty as to the specifics of penis censorship. The BBFC are rumoured to use the ‘Mull of Kintyre’ test to determine whether or not a penis can be shown. If the ‘angle of the dangle’ is higher than that of Kintyre as it is seen on the map of Scotland, then it must be omitted. Though this may not be wholly true, it still highlights the ridiculousness of the situation. It’s unlikely that there would ever be a similar test regarding the size of a woman’s breasts.

So there may not be any concrete rules, but there is certainly a distinct lack of the penis, most prominently in Hollywood. A likely reason for this is that the industry is

extremely male-dominated. There is said to be a five-to-one ratio of men working on films to women, meaning that most of the big decisions that get made in the process of filmmaking are usually made by men. This may not be surprising, as the identification of the ‘male gaze’ has been around for decades.

It’s the idea that the ‘gaze’ of the camera serves heterosexual male interests; a voyeuristic tool that objectifies women’s bodies.

But we may ask, why does the penis still retain such an aura of taboo? It seems to be a question of power. Exposing the female body puts it in the position of scrutiny and therefore vulnerability. Having a penis on display means that masculinity is scrutinised in the same way; a risk best avoided in our patriarchal society.

There is also the issue of homophobia. Freud believed that all heterosexual men harbour a repressed homosexual desire which may come out in fear and anxiety. This idea connects to the repression of the penis in cinema, considering that there is still a high degree of homophobic tendencies in our society.

Interestingly, a study from the University of Georgia revealed that homophobic men were aroused a lot more than non-homophobic men when shown gay porn. Could it be that the image of a penis stirs up unwanted urges?

It is much easier for a man to be heterosexually certain when it is only women’s nudity served on the visual menu.

There have of course been recent cases where the penis has made an appearance in mainstream cinema. Michael Fassbender’s member caused quite a stir when it was unveiled in 2011’s Shame. Even though it had a largely positive response from the media (George Clooney famously compared it to a golf club at the Golden Globes), Fassbender was more angry than cocky about the attention. He claimed that it was a form of ‘sexual harassment’ to have it analysed and joked about all over the internet, and complained that it wouldn’t be acceptable to speak about an actress’s vagina so candidly.

This is a fair point, however, he does not seem

to realise the extent that female celebrities are criticised or drooled over on a daily basis. His outrage brings to light the media’s generally cold and callous attitude towards the celebrity body, and perhaps as a man he feels more inclined to defend his privacy, so rarely is it exposed in public.

It is difficult to know what direction should be taken, whether to increase censorship for both genders, and therefore abolish the double standard, or to have a more balanced display of nudity. For cinema to continue to be progressive and groundbreaking it seems that it must unzip its prejudices and set the phallus free.

My Lawyer Will Call Your Lawyer

Blurred Lines Art house cinema has always had a complex relationship with sex, Fedor Tot explores when cinema meets pornography

Cinema, particularly in the independent sphere, has always had a complex relationship with sex. Burt Reynolds in Paul Thomas Anderson's wonderful Boogie Nights talks of making porn films with production values strong enough that audiences will want to stay in their seats to see how the story unfolds after they've finished with their business.

Absurd as this may sound, many producers of adult entertainment in the 70s had the same dream. Back then many of these people were

independent, working in the underground and against the mainstream, often struggling to get funding, much like some of their arthouse counterparts. It's somewhat apt that the world centre of the porn industry is in San Fernando Valley, hidden just behind the Hollywood sign.

Everyone's favourite Danish misanthrope Lars von Trier is well known for shooting scenes of unsimulated sex in his films, doing so three times (The Idiots, Antichrist and Nymphomaniac). Because his films deal with 'big' subjects and 'serious' issues, people tend to ignore the fact that he is in some respects a pornographer. Granted, he does not produce films solely for the purpose of jerkin' the gherkin, but he does produce films with the intention of providing a visceral, guttural reaction. Audiences react to his films with a whole gamut of emotions, both negative and positive. We love and hate him with equal measure, but something about his work is not that far from porn at all. He is voyeuristic, and driven by the desire to

look, to see, to record. Is this not the same desire that fuels our consumption of porn?

Film, as with any other creative medium, has no particular moral or ethical obligations.

It is only the audience that is required to have a moral system. We see films through our own lens and through the framework of the society which we have grown up in.

The way we respond the films is only ever a reflection of that. Is it possible to go too far in producing something and distributing it? Only if done without the consent of your collaborators, or if it harms them.

But the latter half of that sentence is ridden with issues. The porn industry takes in its young stars and chews them up. Reports of abuse are common. Young men and women, even consensually, often come to great harm in the porn industry when they lack the necessary tools to deal with its troubles. Hollywood isn't much different. It abuses its own stars itself, encasing them in a psychological cocoon. Both industries have people who have successfully

managed to navigate the filthy waters and find some happiness and success with their talents.

People can argue that Lars von Trier goes too far when he films unsimulated sex scenes, but is there all that much difference between him and Ron Jeremy? At the end of the day, the definition of pornography is just that: content whose sole purpose is to produce an erotic or sexual reaction. There are just as many films out there with an equally singular mission statement, many of which are critically respected and loved. Michael Haneke's Funny Games sets out solely to toy with its audience.

Airplane! sets out solely to make us laugh.

Ridley Scott's professed aim with Alien was solely to terrify the audience. Sex is simply another activity of human nature, and sexual desire another aspect of our psyche. Films freely engage in depictions of love, anger, sadness and joy, and they work best when these depictions feel truthful. To sidestep depictions of sex seems almost untruthful when it is such a fundamental aspect of our reality.

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Scenes of a Sexual Nature Two of our writers venture into the depths of their wank banks and select their top sex scenes. For your eyes only.

Chris Rogers

Top Gun (1982)

A History of Violence (2005)

Trance (2013)

Concussion (2013)

Perhaps more famous for its incredible aerial cinematography, military propaganda and homo-erotic subtext, Top Gun made its impression on many teenage minds with the love scene between Tom Cruise and Kelly McGillis. Director Tony Scott puts his expertise learned through advertising to great use, the two lovers seen only as silhouettes against the cool blue night. The cinematography means that very little of the two leads is actually visible (save for pouting lips, roaming hands and a lot of tongue action) so almost everything arousing is left entirely to the imagination of the viewer.

The scene between husband and wife (Viggo Mortensen and Maria Bello, respectively) that takes place on a set of stairs is the perfect example of a sex scene that shows both everything and nothing. While the two remain almost fully-clothed throughout, the sheer passion they feel for each other is evident and is also a great juxtaposition with the more violent aspects of the film. It’s realistically awkward and clumsy in places (understandable, given the setting), but it’s clear that these are two people who are madly in love to the point that they know their other half inside out.

The sex scene in Danny Boyle’s descent into the repressed abusive tendencies of gambler Simon (James McAvoy) is exactly what it needs to be: revealing hidden knowledge of what her patient desires sexually, hypnotherapist Elizabeth (Rosario Dawson) emerges into the apartment fully naked, her swaying hips and the other-worldly glow of the apartment further fuelling the suggestion that Simon may just be under hypnosis. McAvoy’s hushed ‘How did you know?’ melts away into nothing as his character gives into passion and we too, the audience, ignore our suspicions and let ourselves go.

A Horror Diary

Stacie Passon’s story of mother turned escort has many scenes of lust and intimacy, but the greatest of which is when Abby (Robin Weigert) is confronted with new client Sam (Maggie Siff). Obviously much more in tune with her sexuality and desires, Sam’s requests puzzle and confuse Abby at first, but the two slowly enter into a highly-charged affair.

Though there is a line drawn at how much the camera is privy to, the stark natural lighting means that the inquisitive and ultimately joyful nature of the two lovers is clear for all to see. It is heartfelt, passionate, and scorchingly erotic.

My Beautiful Launderette (1985)

Secretary (2002)

Monster’s Ball (2001)

Martha Julier

Bound (1996) Bound is often remembered for the explicit sex scene between its two female leads, Jennifer Tilly and Gina Gershon. The scene involves Violet (Tilly), a gangster’s girlfriend, seducing tough ex-con Corky (Gershon). Corky, curious but hesitant, asks Violet “Why?” to which she replies, “Because I want to”. This perfectly characterises the film’s treatment of the women’s relationship; there is total lack of ulterior motive. The seduction scene is raw but tasteful, intimate but erotic and entirely nongratuitous. It refuses to commodify female sexuality and fetishises lesbianism (i.e Black Swan). Occurring at the start, it is the film’s only sex scene but manages to generate enough heat to sustain their chemistry right to the end.

My Beautiful Launderette is a comedy- Before Fifty Shades’ Christian Grey, there drama that follows the efforts of a young was Secretary’s Edward Grey. The frustrated Pakistani man, Omar (Gordon Warnecke), Grey (James Spader) is a perfectionist lawyer and his white street punk lover, Johnny who employs the self-harming, repressed Lee (Daniel Day-Lewis), to open an upmarket (Maggie Gyllenhaal) as his personal secretary. launderette in South London. Subject to great Their professional relationship transforms discrimination, Omar and Johnny find solace into a sadomasochistic one, providing each in their forbidden relationship: sometimes other with previously deprived satisfaction. sweet, often comedic but always sexy. The The pivotal scene that marks this transition is notable scene would be before the scheduled in Grey’s office as he scolds Lee for a typo she opening of the Launderette as Johnny takes has made in a letter. Instructing her to “bend Omar into their office to help him “relax”. The over” and read the letter off his desk, he begins scene manages to be lovingly romantic without to spank her without much warning. Initially losing any of its sexual tension; furthermore shocked, her continuation to read is her as Omar’s uncle approaches the office door a acceptance of the situation, one that provides Flick Facts sense of their forbidden love is only increased. them both with sought-after pleasure.

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Most famous for earning Halle Berry an historic Oscar, Monster’s Ball was a remarkable film for its confrontation of racism and the pains of parenthood. Billy Bob Thornton plays Hank, a racist Death Row warden who falls for Leticia (Berry), the African American wife of an executed prisoner. The famous scene begins as Hank awkwardly attempts to console Leticia through a tragedy and they begin to bond over the troubled relationships they have with their sons. Leticia tells Hank, “Make me feel good” with complete desperation. Thus begins a long, grueling, explicit love scene between the two that manages to be entirely unique in its ability to be simultaneously erotic and tragic.

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Horoscopes for the Horny

QuizTime!

Aries

Daisy Jones celebrates the achievements of LGBT+ people throughout history 1. Christine Jorgensen performed which cabaret act, released posthumously as an album and now available to download on itunes?

2. Who tutored Alexander the Great until the age of 16?

3. What is the name of Frida Kahlo’s house, which is now a museum containing artifacts of her life?

4. What was Michelangelo sometimes called in his lifetime due to the aweinspiring nature of his work?

5. What is unusual about the diaries of Yorkshire landowner and traveller Anne Lister?

6. Which recently released film features Benedict Cumberbatch in the lead role as Alan Turing?

7. “Clarity of language and simplicity of thought” are the qualities David Campbell ascribed to the work of which lyric poet?

8. What did Sir Isaac Newton describe as his “greatest friend”?

9. Laverne Cox recently made history for being the first openly trangender person to do what?

10. French artist Rosa Bonheur is considered to be the most famous female painter of which century?

Bonus Competition Find Calvin Goldspink’s name floating on the pages of Venue, be the first person to tweet us the page number @Concrete_UEA, and win a Gold bar! Wow!

In a survey done by the Université du Québec and the Philippe-Pinel Institute of Montreal, it was reported that top sexual fantasies include “having sex in a romantic place” and “having sex in a specific place” and “having sex.” Take heed, Aries: Sometimes it’s okay to be boring.

Taurus According to prophets at the Daily Mail, “eating too quickly is a fast track to an early grave.” Once, my friend ate Doritos too quickly and hadn’t been able to move for a week. Replace the Doritios with another bedroom appetetiser, consume it too quickly, and you’re looking at a similar amount of pain. Take heed of the yellow lights in your sexual life.

Gemini Homosapiens are one of the few species that care if they’re seen having sex. In the coming weeks, I invite you to worry less about being seen or heard. Admire our fearless horny rabbit friends and those unstoppable tortoises in our local zoos.

Cancer More people prefer waking up to morning coffee than morning sex, according to the Knights of the Daily Mail. Some, though, see coffee as a way to improve sex. Others take Ritalin before having sex to help them stay focused. But others take Ritalin to get essays written. In the upcoming weeks, note the differences between having sex and writing essays.

Leo

According to world leader Lil’ Wayne, “Safe sex is great sex, better wear a latex cuz you don’t want that late text.” On the other hand, R. Kelly states, “Let’s do what we were born to do. Populate. Make the world better.

Populate.” So, Leo, I would suggest you just do what you think is right (as long as what you think is right is right).

Virgo The world’s largest penis is 9.5 inches in length, and 13.5 inches when erect. The world’s largest vagina is 19 inches. In the next few weeks, don’t try to break any records.

Flip and Reveal

Libra Have you ever wondered how leafhoppers find mates? They identify a partner through vibrations, actually. They use the leaves they sit on to send the vibrations. If you are using vibrations to communicate with your sexual partner, you may have a problem. Maybe try words?

Scorpio

Sex is not for everyone.

Sagittarius Last week, St. Stephens Street closed down to general traffic. That means, only buses and taxis can drive through its streets. Consider only allowing buses and taxis to drive through your roads in the upcoming weeks.

Capricorn Male dark fishing spiders are known to spontaneously die after sex. My mother once told me that the same thing would happen to me after sex, but here I am, writing these horoscopes. This week, question everything everyone has ever told you about sex.

Aquarius In his book The Last Mission, French author Pierre Kohler claimed that NASA had commissioned a study on sexual positions in outer space. He cited a dictionary document that describes subjects experimenting with 10 different positions, six of which required an elastic band or sleeping-baglike tube to keep the couple’s together. Aquarius, be grateful for all the sex you get (if any) in the coming weeks. And if you don’t have sex, be grateful for that, too.

Pisces Keep the Halloween spirit alive! Your sex name this week is Blowbreather. Your stripper name is Dementia. Your goddess name is Lady Hippolyta, Goddess of the Underworld.

Your popstar name is Whitney Swift. Use sex this week as an opportunity to be whoever you’ve always wanted to be.

6 The Imitation Game

3 The Blue House

5 They were written in code

2 Aristotle Quiz Time 1I enjoy being a girl!

4 The Divine One

7 Sappho 8 Truth 9 Be nominated for an emmy in an acting category 10 The 19th

Listings 10/11 - 23/11

concrete.listings@uea.ac.uk

SikTH - Download Freezes Over Tour + Heart of a Coward + Idiom

Grandmaster Flash Thu 13 Nov (£18.50)

Mon 10 Nov (£14)

John Cooper Clarke

Diamond Head + Evil Scarecrow

Cara Dillon

Wed 12 Nov (£15)

Propaganda

Fri 14 Nov (£4-5) (on door)

Sat 15 Nov (£27.50) Sun 16 Nov (£18)

Marika Hackman Mon 17 Nov (£8)

LIT Performing ‘A Place in the Sun’ + Army of Freshmen + Hey Vanity

Matt Schofield + Special Guest The Ben Poole Band

Heaven’s Basement + Nothing More

Mon 24 Nov (£8-10)

Fri 14 Nov (£17.50)

Fri 21 Nov (£17.50)

Chunk! No, Captain Chunk

Sat 15 Nov (£10)

Meltdown

Sat 16 Nov (£3.50-4.50) (on door)

The Shires + Ward Thomas

Damn Good Presents... The Glitter Ball Tue 11 Nov (£3.50)

Mon 17 Nov (£11)

La Roux + Meanwhile

Fri 21 Nov (£4-5) (on door)

Levellers Greatest Hits Tour 2014 w/ The Selector + She Makes War

Propaganda Meltdown

Sat 22 Nov (£3.50-4.50) (on door)

Fri 14 Nov (£17.50)

Sat 15 Nov (Sold Out)

The A List

Sat 15 Nov (£4.50)

Example w/ Feed Me Sarah McQuaid Mon 10 Nov (£8)

Ruarri Joseph + Lily & Meg Tue 11 Nov (£10)

Eliza Shaddad w/ Rory Hill Mon 17 Nov (£6)

Martin Harley + Sam Lewis Wed 19 Nov (£10)

Tue 18 Nov (£27.50)

Brit Floyd - Discovery World Tour 2014 Wed 19 Nov (£26.50)

Volbeat + Special Guests Hatebreed Thu 20 Nov (£17)

The Kooks

Fri 21 Nov (£19.50)

The A List

Sat 22 Nov (£4.50)

more listings at concrete-online.co.uk/events