"Darling, you have a pubic hair in your mouth!" -top shelf jazz
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WE ARE SCIENTISTS
SUMMER FASHION AND FOOD and all the latest film, music and book reviews.
contents: Issue 94 // May 3rd - 17th
ARDS 2008! THE GUARDIAN STUDENT MEDIA AW STUDENT MAGAZINE OF THE YEAR AT
VOYEUR ROBBIE
BLIND DATE FEATURES GAY FOOD FOOD p. 12
TRAVEL INTERVIEWS FASHION BOOKS PHOTOS ARTS GOING OUT MUSIC FILM
Cover Design: Simon Lucey Cover Photo: Liz Foggit
FILM p. 55
LISTINGS
04 06 07 08 10 12 14 17 22 26 30 35 41 45 55 63
Editor Simon Lucey Executive Editor Emma Jones Assistant to the Editors Elaine Morgan Arts Amelia Forsbrook, Natalie Stone, Blind Date Sarah Kilby, Caroline Baldwin Books Emma Pocklington Fashion Emily Cater, Kate Eaton Features Ellie Woodward, Sarah George Film Lloyd Griffiths, Jody Tozer, Steve Wright Food Harriet Davies, Hayley Pyper Gay Lucas Owen Going Out Jack Doran Interviews Steve Beynon, Tom Rouse Listings Tom Rouse Music Sam Smith, Phil Guy, Si Roach Photos Jake Yorath, Liz Foggitt Travel Dom Kehat, Paul Stollery Podcast Director, Lloyd Griffiths Proof Readers, Tom Rouse, Michael Brown, Greg Rees, Max Wright, Miranda Atty, Holly Howe, E. Bater.
printed on recycled paper. PLEASE RECYCLE.
voyeur
IN
OUT
David Cameron: Soft, real soft....
T
here are many definitions of the word 'lad'. Modern technology, (Google) tells us a number of alternatives, Google defines a lad as either a chap, boy or man, a village in the administrative district of Gmina Ladek, within Slupca County in west Poland, or a British cyclecar made between 1913 and 1926. My girlfriend (anti-lad points) confessed that she only knows one real 'lad' and this got me thinking; how do you define a modern day student 'lad'. Am I a 'lad'? Are my friends 'lads'? So I set about trying to define the 'lad'. Whilst this task is surely too big for one skinny student, fear not, for the interweb has come up trumps again. I present my greatest discovery of the week and the great aid to procrastination: www.truelad.com. Whilst this gem of a website does not give us a detailed definiton of the nature of the 'lad' it does give us numerous examples of 'laddish' actions. Here I present the top three lad confessions of all time. 1. I came on a girl's forehead. Put my thumb across her forehead and moaned "SIMBA". LAD 2. A mate, on 99 birds shagged, is getting with his 100th. We (his house mates) all hid behind furniture in the living room when he came back. He starts his foreplay and asks her if she'd mind if he wore cricket gloves whilst they had sex, since it was a bit of a fetish thing for him. She looked confused but said fine. He goes into the bag and puts them on. Then asks if he can wear pads, then finally a helmet. Fully padded up, he proceeds to enter her and after about three minutes is finished, flicks on the main light switch. We all pop up from behind the sofa with rousing applause and cries of "THAT'S THE CENTURY!!", he grabs his cricket bat, removes his helmet and acknowledges the crowd. LAD 3. Last night I was getting sucked off in the back of a taxi. Taxi driver looks in his rear mirror, sees what's going on, and casually gives me the nod of approval. LAD So am I a 'lad' and are my friends 'lads'? No and probably not...
04 / voyeur@gairrhydd.com
Bear massages: Tough, real tough....
ba dom tish jolly humorous stuff
ch and a cat, he goes A man walks into a bar with an ostri kys. whis e thre rs orde to the bar and The cat shouts "I’m not paying" "I know" says the man "I’m paying." n, and orders three A little later he comes to the bar agai again, again the the cat whiskeys, "I’m not paying" shouts man tells him that he is paying. time, and again the cat The man comes to the bar a third shouts "I’m not paying". the fellow,"Excuse The barman intruiged by this asks with that cat and an here in e com you me sir, but why have ostrich ?" e in here, I met a genie "Well" says the man, "Before I cam . So I asked for a long wish any me t gran ld wou who said he y". puss tight legged bird, with a
dictionary corner on the buzzer with student filth
Intellectual Masturbation Fascinating intellectual breakthroughs regarding reality, language, existence, knowledge, perception, or human behavior which are completely unprovable and utterly without use, and therefore of no real consequence to anyone. See also: philosophy
Etymology: the mental counterpart to masturbation; i.e. a process that is very pleasurable but hasn't accomplished anything at the end.
Voyeur
voyeur
What would Pat Butcher do? an of the world Dear Pat, g frank, but you seem to be a wom Recently the I hope you don't mind me bein matter. e sitiv sen er rath a on me ise adv and I felt you could be best to magic's just not hapa little trouble in the sack: the I just can't get my missus and I have been having e, riag mar of s but after thirty year some lubricating pening. I don't know what it is and os various porn mags, dild Enid's juices flowing. We've tried for the head gasket on my Mondeo though), even nt seem like a randy products (shame they were mea . Yet there's nothing doing. You an Alan Titchmarsh video or two old strumpet, any advice? Sincerely,
Dear Keith,
Keith Fish.
, or prime bits mption. You don't get four husbands what the fuck's Firstly, you'd be right in your assu Secondly, it. got t don' you if you after ng of arse like Patrick Trueman lusti time in the bedroom! I work harder than that for a good wrong with you, eh? You need to fisting; why don't you t abou day r othe Mo Harris the was having a conversation with Big hell gave me a hell Mitc gy Peg to start, believe me: give that a go? You're never too old Queen Vic only last night. Talk about old dogs and the of a seeing-to in the back alley by y feller's able to get video doing the rounds, some luck and a bit of a trim if new tricks! There's a classy new gh, thou first tice prac nd plenty of his whole head in there! I'd recomme . mine diamonds, but you've got a barnet as bouffant as I may be famed for my six-inch drop Why don't you get a piercing or two? bits of me dripping with metal? Get a nice only you don't think my earlobes are the the West End, and Dot Cotton's been up Prince Albert! They're all the rage can a day since he got one. Your Enid jumping Jim Branning five times . lable avai e rang wide a have ana join in with a nice clit ring; Blue Ban proper bit of spice in your life: If you still have any trouble, get a a bit of same-sex jiggerygo swinging, dogging, or even have us, there's plenty of curio bit a pokery. And if your bird's even clunge soon in p -dee websites where she can be knee cock on the the of fan a re you' if too, you enough. And sly. e turned on than Follow my advice and she'll be mor my doorstep up on ed turn her Butc k Fran n whe I was bow tie. Now man in his birthday suit and a revolving and Jane Beale to Ian with orgy a the fuck up, I've got get to.
Patricia Butcher (Mrs.) Lots of love and cuddles,
robbie
The polished
TURD The UK has suddenly discovered a political interest, with the introduction of 90 minute PEBs in the guise of debates. Robbie Wells has his doubts though...
A
fter the warm up of the student elections, the one thing everyone is talking about is the slightly less important matter of the general election. I say less important, because at least the candidates in the student election could be differentiated; even if it was just through the costumes they wore. While much talk recently has been about how the guy in the yellow tie is actually alright, how Brown’s head to body ratio makes him look like a Microstar figurine and how Cameron’s face seems as though it should be positioned about three foot lower on his body (I’m saying he looks like a cock by the way), there’s not a great amount to distinguish the main parties. The recent debates have seen a whole lot of posturing and promising in almost all the same areas, but who’s to say whether any of them will put them into practice? You see, the problem with a televised debate is that it gives far too much prominence to style and performance. My fear is that if a Tory can develop charisma, then the world is in vast danger. Just look what happened when a Republican grew a personality; America went from being the most hated country in the world to the most hated thing in the world ever. Even more hated than Jade Goody before people decided she was actually a really nice person, and in no way a racist. I know I’ve given Cameron a lot of stick, but when you start an argument proudly with the words, “I re-
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cently met a black man in Plymouth”, as if to really demonstrate the fact that Conservatives don’t distinguish between races, then you probably deserve it. I mean really, he didn’t start his next anecdote with, “I met a white man in Barnsley”. What’s worse is that after you’ve
If a Tory can develop charisma, then the world is in vast danger. described the man so well, you then say he’s 40 years old and served in the Royal Navy for 30 years. Either Dave’s plucking these figures out of the air or Plymouth is taking ten year olds out of school to fill gaps in the Navy. Some kids go to secondary school, some go to the Man United soccer school, and some go on a fucking yellow submarine. He also went on to talk about a Lexus that a police station had purchased for an apparently astronomical sum of £73,000. When said vehicle is for high speed pursuit, then maybe a good quality vehicle is necessary. And when it actually cost £53,000, Cameron again seems foolish. Another anecdote about a murder in Crosby was again wrongly
attributed, as it actually occurred in Anfield. Silly Dave. Now these things may seem completely trivial, but when a politician says that he’s been to these places and taken these facts in order to give you, the voting public, a realisation of the state of the country, you’d like him to tell the truth. Herein lies the problem of a televised debate. Some people will watch the debates, and take for granted what is said as true. The determining factor for many is how composed a candidate is, how well they deal with the questions and how good they look. And generally speaking, David Cameron is pretty adept at public speaking. Gordon Brown on the other hand, as anyone who has every seen him crookedly attempt a smile will know, is really a face for Teletext. The famous example of Kennedy versus Nixon in the inaugural televised election debate in America found that Nixon won the debate to radio listeners, whereas for those who watched on television, Kennedy was the clear victor. In the end, Kennedy was elected by the smallest of margins, and in this respect many would suggest that television did everyone a favour. But that’s because Nixon looked as corrupt as he was. Unfortunately, Cameron has a look of Blair, and even more unfortunately, the British public seem to like that look in an election. Let’s just pray people fancy Nick Clegg more.
Blind Date
blinddate
Did these two lovelies find steamy love or soggy disappointment?
"He was like a gazelle, elegant and good looking'"
Simon 1. So what were your first impressions? She seemed funny and had a good sense of humour. 2. Best & worst bits? The best bit was consuming loads of wine, worst bit was finding out is it was really difficult not to look at her breasts. 3. Any embarrassing moments? Not really, it flowed pretty well. 4. Were you nervous? What did you do to get ready? Not really, I'm a pretty confident sort of guy, so it wasn't really an issue. 5. So will you be meeting up again? Was good to meet up, but to be honest we didn't have much in common, so don't think we will. 6. And the infamous chuck, fuck or marry? I think I'm going to have to say fuck, she seemed a bit of a babe!
Dom 1. So what were your first impressions? He looked well-dressed so I thought he was pretty stylish. 2. Best & worst bits? Best bit was talking about Simon, I don’t think there was a really bad bit but I guess he kept looking at me a bit weirdly, it was like he couldn't look me in the eye. 3. Describe them in three words? Good-looking, friendly, interesting. 4. Were you nervous? What did you do to get ready? I was a bit nervous — I've never really done anything like this before! I just did the usuals to get ready! 5. What animal did they remind you of and why? A gazelle, elegant and good looking. 6. And the infamous chuck, fuck or marry? He was a sweetie so I'll say marry.
blinddate@gairrhydd.com / 07
features
help or hindrance? Rachel Hulder dispells the myth that that the modern celebrity charity culture is lacking moral integrity.
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features
T
he last decade has been peppered with a number of globe-stopping natural disasters. 2004 saw what is commonly referred to as the Boxing Day Tsunami which left a devastating death toll (as estimated by the UN) of 229,866 as a result of an undersea earthquake measuring 8.9 on the richter scale. The following year saw not only the arrival of the powerfully destructive hurricane Katrina but also the Kashmir Valley earthquake; both events claimed thousands of lives and shocked television viewers across the world. Each of these horrific events had something positive in common that came out of their high profile press coverage..public and celebrity support which came in abundance. The Boxing Day Tsunami is one of the clearest in my mind for largescale public response. Oxfam alone put forward £270,575,805, 92% of which came purely from public donation and was unsurprisingly reported as the largest aid effort the charity had been involved in over its 67 year experience. The money donated went towards an array of individual needs such as to help build shelter, to rehabilitate schools, medical supplies and fees for doctors and nurses. Money also had to be put forward to help provide legal aid for those who had lost property and land. This is just one example of an organisation funded by public donation that aids national and global causes and there are of course hundreds of other examples that donate just as heavily and work just as hard. The call this year has come from the people of Haiti who have suffered intensely since the earthquake that struck on the 12th January 2010. The news reports flooded our screens and evoked responses from millions of people across the world who wanted to do all they could to help. Most noticeable due to media attention has been the strength of celebrity support for the appeal. Cynics, such as myself, may argue that certain celebrities are only supporting the cause in desire of media coverage yet there is no denying the
generosity we have seen documented. Radiohead are an excellent example of this as soon after the scale of the devastation was realised they hosted a charity concert which raised £37,1384 with one munificent fan paying £2,500 for just one ticket!
""The influence of such famous names has huge bearing on public donation" Equally, while many jokes may be made about Brangelina’s everincreasing brood, there is again no denying their incredible support of the Haitian need. Yes, again cynics will say this is just a publicity stunt and perhaps even an attempt at adding a Haitian orphan to their collection, (something I would have agreed with before researching this topic). The influence of such famous names has huge bearing on public donation, particularly in America, and Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are just one example. The pair are very vocal supporters of Wyclef Jean’s brainchild, Yelé Haiti, and have personally donated $1 million to the fund for ‘Doctors Without Borders’ in order to boost the type of medical aid being given and the numbers it can be given to. Another celebrity often criticised in the media for her sporadic adoption of foreign children is Madonna who made an individual donation of half a million pounds to support the cause and has attended a large number of charity events to further her support. I began thinking about this article with a view to writing a piece that gave a rather cynical view of celebrity endorsement; yet the more I have looked into the subject the more I have realised that yes, of course they have this money to give away but we must respect the fact that they do. What I have also found interesting is the people who have
not just donated but have been active in their efforts, such as George Clooney, who helped raise $57 million by co-ordinating the ‘Help for Haiti’ telethon which involved again a huge number of celebrity names. The aforementioned golden couple have again not only donated money but time by travelling to Haiti and getting involved directly. Similarly Natalie Portman who has been a longstanding supporter of FINCA which is a charity that provides small business loans to help boost economy, was able to have great impact on the orphaned and lost children of Haiti by supporting their appeal for providing shelter and even temporary schooling. It is obviously not only the rich and the famous that have been doing their bit; the amount of support from the general public has been as astounding for Haiti as it has been for the other disasters I mentioned previously. Schools have raised money with cake sales, fun runs and non-uniform days which are all enjoyable ways for young people to get involved. There have been colossal donations made in shops and online that have been made without any need for a return like a charity concert or a cupcake. From starting off with a rather cynical view this seems to have turned into a rather upbeat piece about the generosity of humanity which is a much nicer outlook to hold. Moreover my intended attack on celebrity was largely unfounded as often it is celebrity endorsement that aids out giving, with prime examples being Children in Need and Red Nose Day. There are of course a multitude of aspects to this topic such as why it takes such a large scale disaster for people to stand up and take notice. It could also be asked why we need the images of desperation or a concert to inspire us to give or to get something in return for our donation? Equally it could be said that people are always selflessly giving, but it is only the one-off events that grab our attention, while the ongoing efforts put into charitable work are often overlooked.
features@gairrhydd.com / 09
gay
how to make Kate Boddington knew you'd take all her honey, you greedy motherfuck. Here she is to explain how, for those unlucky enough not to get the reference.
T
he Easter break has passed quickly. No work has been done, but I’m still catching up on sleep, and I’m not overly concerned. As one evening blends into the next and I’m causing trouble on the internet, my mother shocks me by revealing she has a vague awareness of current pop culture by asking me what Lady Gaga sings. After recovering from a mild heart attack, I reel off a list of her bigger hits while loading Spotify, when Mum recognises a title – ‘Telephone’. According to her this song is typical local radio music: the sort of thing she hears at the gym, or when driving my brother to school in the morning. This makes sense – Lady Gaga is the latest massive pop phenomenon (although it's perhaps a bit early to be calling her a 'diva'), producing records faster than her fans can learn the dance moves, and the video for Telephone has been on repeat in my head for the best part of three weeks. It's primetime perfect pop, prepped for dance club remixes and made-for-MTV music videos – at least, in theory. But the video for Telephone is something a bit different, a little bizarre: essentially what Gaga represents. So what? All Lady Gaga videos are arty affairs, with symbolism and dance moves ahoy, but this particular video is even more off the wall than normal (pioneer of the genre, Michael Jackson, pun wholeheartedly intentional). At no point did anyone making this video think, “I’m still pretty sure we could get this on television.” No. It was made to be on the Internet. We open showing Gaga being led to a prison cell by two leathery
10 /gay@gairrhydd.com
broads and being heckled by her implausibly gorgeous fellow prisoners. Not only does it build on the ultimate cliché of prison lezz-ploitation films (Prisoner Cell Block H was never this sexy), but it manages to subvert this as well, taking the well known setting and idea in a very tongue in cheek way. A shot of La Gaga clad in nothing but a pair of fishnets reinforces what the world thinks of her obsession with sex, and this scene’s closing statement confirms what gay men across the world had long since fathomed for themselves: ‘I told you she didn’t have a dick’. So we’ve got a women’s prison full of lesbians. Fairly standard Gaga fayre on offer so far then. She is of course in the nick for killing her ex in ʻPaparazziʼ, and if the killing of her boyfriend is meant to imply her strong independence, then should we ask if the prison here acts as a metaphor for how pop music is supposed to conform to patriarchal standards and Gaga is breaking away from this? Yes? No? Does anybody really care? Meanwhile, Gaga is paged indoors to take a phonecall, and finally the song is crowbarred into the video via this tenuous link, the lyrics bearing no reference to the video's content. Gaga sings about refusing to take a call because she's too busy having fun, and we've all seen that number come up on our phones at some point. Ignoring the exaggeration of product placement here, with Diet Coke rollers in Gagaʼs hair and her Virgin Mobile (the prominence of which is clearly – hopefully – meant to be ridiculous) we then get a hilarious dance sequence. Then, in a surprising turn of events, she is
bailed out of jail by none other than Beyonce, who is driving the Pussy Wagon from Kill Bill. Obviously. Beyonce and Lady Gaga wind up in this all-American diner, where Beyonce kills her boyfriend (or possibly pimp, or both), which seems to be something of a trend in Gaga’s videos. Gaga adopts the role of… well… some kind of satanic Nigella Lawson, cooking up a world of killer recipes and then deciding to bump off the entire patronage. She knows her stuff: after all, this is why she’s been in prison. Serious analysis: Gaga’s video is making fun of the conventions of music videos, from Gaga’s cigarette sunglasses to the Pussy Wagon as a counterpoint for the extravagant cars often seen on MTV. As things draw to a close, a Thelma and Louise handshake rounds out the full nine minutes (NINE MINUTES!) of film, and the credits roll. While I find this video an ironically hyperbolic take on American culture, there are obviously two sides to every argument. A commentator from the humourless Fox News organisation has described the video as ‘poison for our kids’ in a deliciously irony-free reference to the girls’ choice of murder weapon, Some think that this is the video to rival Jackson’s Thriller, whereas others say it’s misogynistic and transphobic. Either way, she’s raising the profiles for lesbians in the mainstream media and taking advantage of advertisers, while basically telling her fans to express herself. So, boys and girls, when that call comes, ignore it. Just dance.
gay
a pop video
gay@gairrhydd.com / 11
food
fancy a frolic? So it may be exam season and all that, but no one can resist that tempting smell of barbeques and dry grass. Lucie Travallion shows us all how to create the ideal summer spread...
O
ur faces are tingling with sunburn, our feet are blistered from flip-flops, and our legs are out in all their pasty
glory. But we will happily grin and bear it because all of these clues only lead to one conclusion: summer has arrived early. To welcome
Mediterranean couscous
Vodka Watermelon
*Packet of couscous (Sun Grown Mediterranean style is tasty and cheap) *Tin of sweetcorn
*Miniature watermelon (has a thinner skin so is easier to cut, but small normal watermelon is fine) *375ml bottle of vodka
*Tin of chick peas *Jar of pitted green olives * Tbsp of butter 1. Empty one sachet of couscous into a bowl. Add 160ml of boiling water, and a good lump of butter. Leave for 5 mins so water can be absorbed. Fluff up with a fork to separate grains. 2. Add all other ingredients, amounts added are optional according to personal preference.
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1. Cut a circle into the skin of the watermelon, creating a hole. Insert the open vodka bottle into the hole. 2. Let the vodka bottle sit for a while, so the vodka can fully absorb. Leave up to a week, or at least a few days - the longer the better. 3. Remove empty bottle, cut and enjoy. If you’re taking it to a party, cork it and carry.
back our glorious season, and welcome back our old Uni friends after Easter, there is a necessary ritual to fulfil. Don a disposable
Mojito *Bottle of Rum (Bacardi Limon if you’re feeling fancy, but Tesco Value will do fine) *Fresh mint leaves *Limes, quartered (1 lime per drink) *Brown sugar *Bottle of Club Soda (slightly vanilla-y and sweeter than normal soda water) *Ice cubes
*Shaker 1. Place mint and lime wedges in tall glass. Muddle (mush) gently with muddler or wooden spoon. 2. Add sugar, ice, rum, and enough club soda to nearly fill the glass. Shake to mix and serve in a cocktail glass. 3. Garnish with an extra lime slice and sprig of mint.
food
Summer nachos
Feta + rosemary skewers
Satay chicken skewers
To avoid the seemingly endless wait for the barbeque to heat up, have a simple sharer on hand:
*200g pack of feta cheese, cut into 8 chunks * 1/2 French stick , cut into bite-size chunks * 8 cherry tomatoes * 1 lemon , zested and halved lengthways
* 4 tbsp smooth peanut butter *100ml soy sauce (Kikkoman is the best brand) *4 skinless chicken breast fillets
* 200g bag of spicy or cool tortillas chips * small bunch of coriander , roughly chopped * 1 lime , cut into wedges * 142ml pot of soured cream or reduced-fat crème frâiche * 2-3 tomatoes , cut into chunks * 3 spring onions , sliced * Grated cheddar cheese (optional) * sliced jalapeño peppers from a jar (optional) * 200g bag of cooked prawns , defrosted and drained (optional) 1. Spread the tortilla chips over a large plate, heap on grated cheese and pop in medium oven until melted. 2. Stir most of the coriander through the soured cream or crème fraîche, squeeze in the juice of one lime quarter and season to taste. Spoon over the tortilla chips, then scatter over the rest of the ingredients and remaining coriander. Serve at once and watch them disappear
* 2 sprigs of rosemary , chopped * 1 tbsp olive oil * 4 wooden skewers 1. Cut one lemon half into wedges, and slice the other half. Thread a piece of the bread onto a skewer, then a piece of feta, a lemon slice and a cherry tomato. Repeat, then finish with a piece of bread. Do this on three more skewers.
1. Put the peanut butter in a bowl and slowly mix in the soy sauce until smooth. Cut each chicken fillet into thin strips lengthways, add them to the peanut mixture and coat well all over. Cover and marinate in the fridge overnight. 2. When ready to use, thread each chicken strip onto a soaked skewer and barbecue or grill for about 5 minutes on each side, or until cooked through.
2. Sprinkle over the zest and rosemary then drizzle over the oil. Barbeque kebabs for 1-2 mins on each side until feta is browned. Serve with lemon wedges.
food@gairrhydd.com/13
travel
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tunisia
travel
Dom Kehat visits Tunisia, taking in the sights, culture and a bit of sun, and learning there is more to this country than nice weather and even nicer hotels.
G
etting off the plane I hoped desperately to be hit with that tight hot air which is generally the welcome signal that you are abroad; holiday time is officially here. Sadly walking down the stairs from the plane greeted me with no such pleasure, the blazer was to remain on and I was informed it would a while yet before the beautiful heat that basks Tunisia arrives. The silver lining of this cloud would be that whilst there would be no tan, and for that I still sigh, there would equally be fewer tourists, and therefore a chance to really get a proper insight into the North African country that is Tunisia. Driving into Tunis, the capital, the French influence was obvious, the tree lined boulevard attractive with its Parisian quality. The hotel , Hotel Afrika, was equally defined by the French past - with traditional service and classic rooms, but alas it was to be a fleeting visit for the next morning, after a much needed sleep I was to catch a flight which would take me to Djerba. Djerba is the largest island off Tunisia, and is the location of choice for many resort lovers; English, French and Italian, here they flock taking full advantage of the hospitality and sun every summer. The largest city, Houmt Souk, is still endearingly small in size, and full of shops (souks) selling various souvenirs with the added fun of haggling your price. The relaxed feel, and enviable climate, even before the
summer heat kicks in, means hours can be spent sitting in cafes with the locals drinking sweet tea and smoking sheesha. I am one of those people who scorn those who choose to go to another country and spend the whole time in the hotel, eating its food and basking on its private beach. It is therefore with regret I admit, on walking into the vast entrance of the Sofitel in Tunsia, all I wanted to do was sit by the pool, sleep in the huge soft bed and eat far too much at the dessert buffet. Whilst a huge amount of weight would be gained, and my knowledge of the Tunisian culture limited to the wine served over dinner, by jolly would I be relaxed.
"A corner of Africa that is both safe to travel and welcoming" Sightseeing opportunities are available to those willing to hire a driver, or for the more adventurous a motor bike, in order to navigate along the winding roads on the impressive vast landscape that is the fringes of the Sahara Desert. For Star Wars fanatics a trip to Matmata is a must, where the series of the underground caves remains as used by George Lucas as the set for Tatooine. Thanks to the entrepre-
neurial minds of the local Tunisians, you can now sleep in Luke Skywalker’s house which exists as a successful, but still affordable hotel. A real treat for all those Star Wars fans out there, and a rather baffling experience for those who are not. The original granary vaults in the well preserved ancient towns are however an interesting excursion regardless of your film taste; hugely unique in their architecture, and striking against the desert backdrop, you cannot fail to be impressed. The final adventure on this whistle stop tour of Tunisia was the Ksour festival held in the town of Tataouine. A culture celebration of loyal tradition, it attracted thousands of residents who crowded into the small square to enjoy poetry readings and dancing. Guests from Libya, Algeria, Jordan and Syria arrived in various national dress, performing into the night. Looking around me, it can be said that the small group I was with were the only tourists in sight, and as any well seasoned traveller will tell you escaping the Lonely Planet touting masses is often a struggle, but after a long drive through a desert, we were there, smiling at the sheer absurdity of our presence. So there you go, a corner of Africa that is both safe to travel and welcoming; and if you can bring yourself to step out of the lush confines of the many hotels, and I warn you now it will be a struggle, cultural to boot.
Tunisair operate four flights per week from London Heathrow to Tunis, prices start from £170 (inc taxes). For reservations call 020 7734 7644 or go to www.tunisair.com. Internal connections from Tunis to Djerba can be made with Seven Air, prices start from £45. For reservations call 0216 71 94 23 23 or go to www.sevenair.com.tn. For more information on what’s happening in Tunisia go to www.cometotunisia.co.uk
travel@gairrhydd.com / 15
travel IN F BRITA BEST O
. . .Liverpool Kirsty Allen talks you through the new face of Liverpool, and how this commonly ignored city is finally getting the attention it much deserves.
S
waying on a double-decker through the heart of Liverpool, Merseyside myths will disappear. Whilst meandering through an eclectic mix of Victorian turrets and Georgian domes, against a back drop of glass encased high street shopping palaces, shamelessly swanky nightspots and a skyline that punctures the steely horizon beyond the Albert Dock, the stereotypes will soon be replaced by the facts. Being named Europe’s Culture Capital 2008 was the stage Liverpool needed to showcase the arts, culture and entertainment scene that’s been thriving in the ‘forgotten North’ since the Merseybeat years. The curtain then came up on the city itself, a chance to finally boast about having more listed buildings than any other city in the UK apart from the capital, with a shiny UNESCO World Heritage site badge to show for it. Liverpool has indulged in a rejuvenating city centre facial, the type the Liverpool FC WAG pack would be proud of. Come and see the glowing results. These days the former port city’s waterfront and docks twinkle with glitzy bars and restaurants suit-
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able for sophisticated socialising only. Such establishments are no place for your pennies. Instead, turn the corner for Tate Liverpool and the Merseyside Maritime Museum before confronting the city’s past in the frank, fantastic exhibitions of the International Slavery Museum. Stroll along the waterfront before heading into the commercial metropolis of Liverpool One.
Liverpool simply sparkles with options Wander a little bit further for offbeat finds and quirky stores, perusing the boutiques of Bold Street and venturing down every arcade, before paying a visit to Quiggins Attique. I cannot advise strongly enough to fully explore the myriad of retail therapy options in this infamous vintage shopping hub before making any purchase. There are some absolute gems on the top floor of the Attique. Please spend responsibly. By night fall, Liverpool simply sparkles with options. You may be aware that Liverpool, or the North
West in general perhaps, has a fantastic reputation for getting absolutely wasted in a fabulous selection of waterholes and night spots. Start the night in student favourite Hannahs, before a shot of jazz in smouldering Heebie Jeebies finishing in achingly hip Masque. For a big, ugly, student night, head to Nation and revel in the fact that it was once the legendary Cream. Take off your heels and head to the nearest chippy, bypassing the curry sauce and opting for gravy. Let’s not forget the facts, Liverpool is a capital of culture with a hell of a lot more to it than getting wasted (although it really is good fun in this neck of the woods.) Share a pot of tea at Roccoco’s before an evening at FACT for the finest in indie and decent mainstream films. Everyman Theatre, an intimate venue committed to quality theatre, offer free student tickets for forward thinkers. Finish your night with a decadent cocktail in Alma de Cuba, a converted church with a vivacious, Scouser-Hispanic twist. It’s time to Post It note a reminder to book your train tickets to the 'Pool now. The North West is no longer ‘forgotten’ and it’s carrying on without you. You’re missing out.
the
interviews
missionary
postition Julia Leonard chats with We are Scientists about Barbara, missionaries and stags.
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going
interviews
"Is this a re cord for all the Barbaras
All photos: Jake Yorath
out there?"
“E
s e y , s e Y "
veryone’s been asking me about the film Avatar,” says bassist Chris Cain. It’s mid-March and he’s been doing back-to-back interviews over the phone from the USA on a highly-anticipated press day (the last two have been cancelled at last minute). The band are getting ready to play South by Southwest in Austin before heading over to the UK where they’ll be headlining day two of the Camden Crawl on the first weekend of May. Given this exciting start to the festival season, Avatar is not on my list of questions to ask him about WAS. Going by their website and tweets (@scientistbros) Chris’s notorious quirkiness should make for some interesting answers. For anyone who isn’t so familiar, WAS was formed in 1999 by Chris and lead singer Keith Murray who met at college in California. There,
they also met Michael Tapper who became the band’s drummer before leaving in 2007, the same year that guitarist Max Hart joined. Only last summer, former Razorlight drummer Andy Burrows was recruited and moved to New York to begin work on Barbara, their third album after With Love & Squalor (2005) and Brain Thrust Mastery (2008). With such a comparatively simple name, I ask what the story is behind Barbara? “We thought it would be a funny name for a record...not a laugh out loud joke of a name for record but like naming a boat - yeah, like you give a boat a person’s name. So not that strange when you use the boat metaphor. And no there’s no specific ‘Barbara’ out there but is this a record for all the Barbaras out there in the world? Yes it is.” So how would he sum Barbara up in one sentence? “Stripped-down
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production like the early stuff, better songs than the late stuff - this album will knock your socks off.” Seeing as Barbara will be the first record with Andy, has the music changed since he joined the band? “Yes I think it’s improved: Barbara’s a very logical follow up to the last two records with similar song-writing but tighter; similar musicianship; better and more inventive. It’s not gonna surprise anyone in the way that a country record from WAS would but it is going to be very, very satisfying for anyone who enjoyed our previous records and stands a much better chance of winning over people who’ve found the previous stuff to be not quite enough. This one might finally be there for all those doubters.” Apart from recording Barbara last autumn, WAS starred in their own self-described “emotionally sophisticated” MTV show, a short
interviews
it is" comedy series called Steve Wants His Money. Is there going to be a second series? Not according to Chris but there are definitely plans for more TV work. “We’re still talking to MTV about what we want to do but once we know it’ll probably turn around fairly quickly. Steve Wants His Money took about two months from the time we started writing to the time it went on air so things happen quickly at MTV. “The front runner at the moment is something about missionaries in space and would be titled The Missionary Position. Depending on how long it takes to shoot we might squeeze it in some time before touring.” You read it here first. Talking of touring, when and where can British fans look forward to seeing WAS this year? “We’ll be doing festivals all summer including all the likely stuff - Glastonbury, Reading & Leeds, T in the Park,
Oxegen - plus a few dates between festivals. There’s no full scale tour until the fall though.” Over the years WAS have been on tour with a number of big names, including Kings of Leon and Arctic Monkeys - who was Chris’s favourite band to support? “The wimpy comfort craving part of me would have to say REM because they put on a nice backstage experience - the catering was amazing and the schedule was pretty chilled. A very pleasant tour to be on.” Anyone he would like to go on tour with now? Or has WAS reached the stage where bands are wanting to support them? “It would still be fun to support some kind of hero band - we played one show supporting the Pixies. That was amazing, they seem cool. I could listen to the Pixies every night.” WAS spend a good deal of time here in the UK, what’s the best part
about ye olde England? “I definitely enjoy a traditional English pub with good kitchen fare like one in Hampstead Heath called The Stag. Andy introduced us to it six months ago and we go there whenever we’re back in London,” says Chris after a few seconds, clearly giving this some serious thought. But he quickly answers my next question: what he misses most about America? “Pizza because frankly Pizza Express doesn’t cut it.” Time for one more question which is perhaps a bit of a cliche but I ask him to name one item he’d take to a desert island. “I guess it would be ridiculous to choose some kind of survival tool since I’m fucked anyway. I guess I would take a big jug of hyper-concentrated LSD so I could go out with a bang.”
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goinginterviews out
Impeccably Rude
Photo: Liz Foggit
Simon Lucey meets up with Top Shelf Jazz to discuss good-time music, alcohol, and show-girls.
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interviews going out
T
o describe top shelf jazz is not an easy task. Cardiff’s pioneering magazine, the miniature music press described them as “impeccably rude,” while the internet describes them as the “best thing to come out of Cardiff since the M4” and their influences as the “daemon drink” furthermore they cite their interests as “bootleg gin, show girls and the gutter.” Clearly this band is out of the ordinary. Maybe the best way to understand their character is to ask their very own Arthur Foxaque (aka Fred) who describes himself as a fine art graduate who can barely read a note of music. “If you have the misfortune to speak to any of the musicians in my band they’ll vehemently maintain that I still can’t read a fucking note of music and they don’t know why I’m bothering to pick up that pissing guitar.” It seems beating around the bush is something that Fred cannot be accused of. Of his very talented band Arthur claims “they are bastards, I don’t know why I pay them, although when I cant I won’t.” And blimey they are talented; they come together to play filthy 1920’s/30’s cabaret inspired jazz combined with the voluptuous Josephine Shaker’s tantalizing tap dancing to provide a show that provokes all the senses. Fred himself was keen to share a plethora of stories along with a good few beers when we met. When I asked about his plans for the festival season he briefly outlined how he was going to get drunk on
each stage systematically before launching into a story of Pony, an ‘amiable character’ who worked on the festival scene and had, allegedly, founded My Little Pony. Fred went on to explain how My Little Pony was so brilliant since it “has kept young girls everywhere occupied for a few years before they discovered crack and cock.”
"My Little Pony kept young girls occupied untill they discovered crack and cock." As the hours progressed, and the beers flowed the conversation turned filthier and filthier. I wanted to find out if the band was as rude as it claimed to be, to which Fred replied “We can be fairly offensive yes, travelling the country consists largely of character assassinations and filthy banter.” He then took the opportunity to point out that my photographer had “a pubic hair hanging from her mouth.” The conversation as usual seems to be dominated by alcohol, and I asked how much his act relied upon the liquid gold. Fred immediately claimed “I try not to get drunk on stage anymore, as I get more successful unfortunately my respon-
sibilities have grown so I like to do most of it sober.” He then proceeds to launch into his next story, “But I virtually got carried onto stage last month, I was dizzy as an ass… Oh god I was in such a fucking state.” So does he condone drinking? “Oh yes, there is no point in enjoying what we do sober, bloody hell no.” It seems despite his success alcohol still plays a significant part of the show, yet for some reason if it ever has got him in trouble he “can’t quite remember.” There is however more to rudeness, alcohol, and show-girls to this band. Originally from Cardiff, they perfected their act at various openmic nights around the city and spent a lot of time on the cabaret and street festival scene. Fred is also clearly very well read, conversation flowed between history, “something to have a good banter about,” philosophy and culture, constantly referring to drunken crazy tales to keep it light hearted. So what is his perfect gig venue? Again he reminisces of perfect prewar venues, and dirty pubs. One that Fred particularly remembers was in Whitechapel, “a grotty shithole bit of London in this shack of a pub where there were these fabulously good looking women dressed as sailors and very, very sketchy gentlemen who I tried not talk to because they kept offering to sell me things, it just made me nervous!” It seems that he genuinely isn’t in it for the money, but the party.
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fashion
Fashion's A-Z Emma Wilford and Kirsty Dagnall bring you a guide to your spring/summer essentials..
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rogues...Perfect teamed with a day dress.
qua... the new black for Spring/Sum-
enim... Jean or handbags, s, dresses with anythin it works g!
logs... making a comeback for this
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arrings... the perfect accessory for dressing up any summer outfit!
lorals... A classic favourite for those sunny days.
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ladiator sandals... every girls summer sandal must have.
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... These arem Pants items sial controver place in the a e av h ll ti s orld. w n io fash
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nstant tan... Just in case the British weather does let us down this year!
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ackets... Cropped and light are perfect for those breezy evenings.
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aftans... Experiment with pattern and colour for lazy days chilling by the pool.
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ace... Feminine, delicate and still very popular!
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ilitary... think nudes, khaki greens and utility style pieces.
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fashion
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autical... a trend that seems to re-appear every summer, it’s an easy way to look summery and chic.
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range... coral.. sunset, salmon this is the colour to truly complement your tan. Go bold try a coral nail varnish or lipstick
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laysuits... the new dress this season. Topshop and River Island have some great playsuits which can easily take you from day to night.
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uirky accessories... add character to any outfit with quirky accessories such as hats, jewellery and bags.
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ed lipstick... a simple way to add sophistication and glamour to any outfit. Try pillar-box red to give an otherwise dull outfit an injection of colour.
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horts... highwaisted, lace, culottes, and denim- shorts are an essential item for this summer.
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rilby hat... a festival fashion favourite.
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nderwear as outerwear... slip dresses, lace bodies this season it’s all about wearing it on the outside.
est tops... always an essential when the sun finally begins to shine.
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i tra long... max are ts ir sk g lon dresses and be summery a great way to to show too ng vi without ha pecially if you much skin, es n your legs! ta ke fa forget to
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ebra print... fashion has gone print crazy so to emulate the safari trends invest in an animal print piece of clothing.
ellies... with festival season fast approaching, wellies are key to keeping dry and mud free!
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ellow... another sta summer colour. Tr ple y lemon to fit in with a pale the pastel colours which are all over the high street.
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fashion
Boys of Topman Purple Gingham shirt £26
Pick up a straw trilby at ASOS £10
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Head to Reiss for a sexy range of chinos, starting at £69
Reiss Rourke Denim Jacket £110
Topman Boatman Shoes £40
books
Always the Love of Someone Huw Lawrence pub. Alcemi
C
oming from Alcemi, a publisher dedicated to producing innovative fiction, this book was always going to be a little different. The fifteen short stories in this collection dwell on the relationships of the lonely, and those forgotten by society. Each is set in Wales, and yet is strikingly original in its diversity of characters and situations: the worldly
The Forest Under the Sea John Barnie
pub. Cinnamon Press
T
he Forest Under the Sea is welsh poet John Barnie’s fascinating collection of contemporary dark poems. The title of his collection gives the poems a mythological undercurrent taking inspiration from the legends of Cantre’r Gwaelod, an area of land in Cardigan Bay which is now only visible at low tide when tree trunks can be seen. His collection is steeped in welsh history and culture and it is obvious he is proud of his heritage. The poems are written in a modernist style
tramp and stoical immigrant worker are set alongside more recognisable figures such as the grumpy old man in the village. Lawrence’s stories are clearly award-winning for a reason; each is so carefully and cleverly written that, for example, a simple interaction between two strangers is layered with unspoken possibilities and subtle nuances of behaviour. The stories vary quite significantly in style, keeping the tone from stagnating and the reader interested, when the stories are read sequentially. Likewise, the detail is carefully meted out to keep you thinking, culminating in endings that will surprise, devastate or leave you unexpectedly uplifted. This is certainly the book for you if you lack the time to read a novel, but want something diverting
and often create a bleak atmosphere through their unresolved conclusions. What I love about these poems is that they deal with everyday issues in fragments and moments in
"It's always great to read poetry on places you've been to" time, creating a glimpse into the life of the persona. His poems cover a range of subjects moving from nature and animals to childhood and love, all with an undertone of religion.
"The endings will surprise, devestate or leave you unexpectedly uplifted" to dip into from time to time. Though normally a hater of short stories, I read this with awe and growing fascination as each new, bizarre relationship unfolded, and as a consequence will certainly look into more short stories in the future. Basically, whoever you are, you should give it a go; clichéd though it is, there’s probably something in there for everyone. Rebecca Dubock
It is inspiring to read a welsh poet who celebrates and explores the vast nature of Wales, which is what Barnie does so successfully, by using a dark and serious tone. The poem ‘Barry Island’ was particularly interesting to read as it appeals on a local level, it’s always great to read poetry on places you’ve been to! Barnie also manages to capture memories in the poem ‘Happy Birthday’ by showing the nostalgic innocence and naivety of childhood. Although perhaps not a well known poet, Barnie’s poems are surprisingly inspiring and thought provoking. His latest collection appeals to lovers of anything welsh and are enjoyable to read. Melissa Parry
books@gairrhydd.com/27
books
Caution Books Crossing
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books
Apparently generosity is addictive; bookcrossing.com certainly thinks so. Emma Pocklington explores the closest thing you can get to a literary eutopia.
I
nfecting the world one book at a time, bookcrossing.com professes. There’s no excuse for not reading anymore, the books are literally everywhere. Does your student budget stretch to buying novels? Can you be bothered to join a library? Do your housemates ever have anything you want to read? No? Well BookCrossing has made getting hold of your must have summer reads so much easier. Walk into most coffee shops and you’re sure to find a BookCrossing shelf. Books have been left in parks, in bus shelters, on benches in the centre of town, on buses, at the hospital, in fact anywhere and everywhere you can think there’s probably
a BookCrossing book just waiting to be picked up. The travelling books are taking the literary world by storm. BookCrossing was launched in April 2001 by Ron Hornbaker and Heather and Bruce Pedersen, having spawned from Hornbaker’s idea for a website that spread disposable cameras across the globe and shared the pictures. Today BookCrossing is a world wide phenomenon found in most of the countries in the world. If you want to try and catch a BookCrossing book of your own you can hit the streets of Cardiff armed with butterfly net and camouflage and stake out the nearest Starbucks, or you can cheat and go online and search for the latest books released
in the local area. Each book is given its own authentication code which is written inside the cover and when you find a book you can enter the code online and see where it’s been before. And once you’ve read it and released it again you can keep a track of where it goes. You can even write a wish list of books you want to read and have them sent to you from the other side of the world by your BookCrossing friends. There are thousands of books out; crime novels wait patiently on coffee shop book shelves, romances sit on park benches and Harry Potters whisk back and forth across the air space. Get out there and find one.
The Diary of A BoOK CrosSing BoOk On Beauty - Zadie Smith 1/12/09 - Registered in Berlin 20/1/10 - Posted to Wales 24/1/10 - Arrived in Wales 6/3/10 - Posted to Bulgaria 12/3/10 - Arrived in Bulgaria. waiting to be read Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone - J.K Rowling 9/10/09 - Bought from a charity shop, London 9/10/09 Left at king's Cross Station. 13/10/09 - Picked up whilst on a Harry Potter tour and taken back to Texas
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photos
Jon Berry explores the curious
Lomography
with images by Bethany Lowe
G
o into any boutique and/or retro clothes/ paraphernalia shop and you will undoubtedly encounter all manner of curiosities from a bygone era. Clocks, kitchen hardware, bric-a-brac and shitty toys that, by today’s standards, would be laughable but are rendered cool due to being over 30 years old. It all makes an appearance oozing its ubiquitous cool over its alarmingly over-inflated price-tag. Cameras are by no means relegated off the hipster’s shopping list. Popping up in every boutique have been several photographic oddities, reissued under the fervour of a reinvention of the retro. So far removed from the sleek curves, modern lines and hi-tech attitude of contemporary photographic equipment, the retro camera army is blessed with far
fewer elegant style features. The harsh angles, flimsy materials and gaudy colour schemes have all become par for the course amongst retro photography enthu-
siasts. (Apologies for the technical terminology in this sentence); some of these cameras are 35mm, some are 120. Some can take quadroscopic simultaneous images and some have tri-optic flashes to throw a colour mask over the subsequent image. Some have fish-eye lenses. But they all have one thing in common; they appear under the umbrella of being Lomographic cameras. The term Lomo (in its shortened form) can be applied to a range of relatively under-spec (even for their time of production), mass-produced camera equipment. The main players within the Lomographic world are undoubtedly the Lubital-166, the Diana,
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and the Holga. The one I have a particularly fond relationship with is the Holga. Some of the first thoughts that popped into my head when my eBay package arrived from Hong Kong and my Holga first fell into my hands were: ‘Crikey that’s light’, ‘F**k, the back’s fallen off’, ‘Where’s the 35mm mask’ (there wasn’t one), and ‘Seriously, how light does this camera want to be?’ But I managed to shake off these judgements rather quickly, as I had been previously astounded by the images I had seen captured through the Holga’s plastic lens; such subtly textured frames, such warm outlines, such wonderfully skewed colours. My first experience with Holgraphy was a literal eye opener. It seemed the artists who were utilising this wonderfully defunct piece of kit were able to shy away from the technical
photos
Lomography [lom-og-ruh-fee] Noun - The art of using a Lomographic camera for its visual distinctiveness. - A disctinctive photographic style known for its quirkiness.
wizardry of modern cameras to focus on what makes a truly good photograph. Contrast and colour took on a new identity within the Holga’s plastic little world. Shooting in a 120 square format, even with the most stilted experimental tendency, all images take on an ethereal, somewhat dreamlike atmosphere. Add the possibilities of panoramic shots, cross processed film, colour masks and multiple exposure techniques, and the Holga is a veritable cavalcade of lo-fi features that will release an implausible degree of possibilities for the inner artist. The only thing I would initially recommend if using the Holga, is to wrap an elastic band or two around it to ensure the back doesn’t fall off mid-shoot. I’ve lost many a film that way. There is something extremely liberating about using a camera that has a fixed focus, fixed shutter speed and a fixed aperture (the instruction manual states there are two aperture settings, one for cloudy days and one for sunny, but it makes absolutely no difference to the outcome). And that’s the beautiful thing about this camera; it’s upmost simplicity. It is a camera in its purest form, simply a means of capturing light on a sheet of silver nitrate treated film.
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arts
I
can understand the idea of chef as artist. Designing the taste, textures and appearance of a certain dish certainly calls for a certain creative talent. Members of The Experimental Food Society, however, have taken the idea of food as art one step further. One member, Carl Warner, sculpts landscapes out of food. These surreal images feature such things as cauliflower seaweed, a bacon river and an avocado hot air balloon. Simon Smith sculpts in margarine, recommending that his work will last up to one month at room temperature.
P
lans have been unveiled for the ArcelorMittal Orbit Tower that will be the centrepiece of the 2012 Olympic Park. Designed by artist Anish Kapoor and structural engineer Cecil Balmond, the tower will stand at around 118 metres – just taller than Big Ben. Kappor explains that the unconventional winding shapes of the tower come from ‘trying to rethink what a tower might be’. It certainly looks to me more like a rollercoaster than a monumental tower, but what do I know?
B
aron Simon de Pury is known as the Mick Jagger of auctioneers due to his ability to whip an audience up into bidding massive amounts for pieces of art. However, it seems that success such as this is unlikely in our unsteady economic climate. De Pury has a plan. He hopes to beat the recession by holding a number of themed auctions. Last month the theme was ‘Sex’ yet the auction was widely reviewed as ‘flaccid’, selling only 69% of its eroticthemed pieces. I wonder if the piece he plans to auction next - an installation of 9 urinals – will be more successful... Martha Partridge
Arts
update
arts@gairrhydd.com/35
arts
arts seen Amelia Forsbrook lets you know why you should check out The Devil Inside Him starring Iwan Rheon from E4's Misfits.
‘I
s it worse to murder a body or a soul?’ muses Huw, the passionate protagonist of John Osborne’s controversial play. And with that, the raw emotion of National Theatre Wales’ latest offering is unleashed. The Devil Inside Him was only recently discovered in the archive
of the Lord Chamberlain, after this psychologically rich piece by the ‘original Angry Young Man’ was censored back in the 50s. Olivier Award winner Iwan Rheon (who a lot of us will recognise from Misfits) will play the repressed poet Huw and is set to bring a tantalisingly dark layering to the work.
This is a play about our secrets, and whether it is more devilish to hide ourselves or persecute others. Don’t forget that the New Theatre offer dramatically discounted tickets when 16-25 year olds book tickets. Just search 'react' on newtheatrecardiff.co.uk.
Noises Off
over it. My confusion increased when, once the action had started, I found I was sat next to the ‘director’ who began criticising all the actors on stage. But once I got my head around the fact that I was watching a play about a play in three parts from the front, then the back, then the front again, I began to appreciate the brilliance of it all. Once the play got going the hilarity came swiftly. The second scene which shows the performance from behind the scenes was fantastically done, i made brilliant by
the sheer speed of the chaos and the flawless switching of various props as they are flung about backstage. The sets were great, showing the front and back of the stage and the actors were brilliant, forming believably ridiculous characters that had you in stitches. All of them managed to pull off the difficult task of these roles. Noises Off was another great performance from Act One, quick, witty and fantastically funny. Emma Pocklington
Theatre
T
o say that I was confused sitting down to watch Noises Off would be an understatement. Even the programme took some working out. I turned it over and upside down and looked at the two different cast lists and puzzled
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arts
On Broadway Dance
O
n Broadway was an amazing, incredibly diverse display of the staggering levels of talent in the dance society in a wide spectrum of
The Opposite of Talking / Shiver Theatre
CF10
A
nother Unscene event from Act One unveils two fresh, stylistic, original stage plays. With limited props and sparse sets, these plays rely completely on the writing, the actors and the direction; it’s opportune that there’s an overabundance of talent in every arena. Written by Becky Hill, who codirected with Piers Horner, The Opposite of Talking is one act play set in a waiting room, filled with a large and diverse array of
styles including jazz, tap, ballet, street, and Irish dance. The Gate was the perfect location, with the seats seemingly spilling over into the stage so that the performances were even more engaging. The showcase was made up of routines choreographed by the students themselves, and was fiercely innovative. There was a tap dance in pyjamas to ‘Would You’, a street megamix with a plethora of bright, multi-coloured leggings and a tap dance in the dark with UV
light, glow in the dark accessories and white socks over shoes. There was a mixture of solo, duos, trios and large group dances so that there was no room to feel in any way underwhelmed, especially with the Glee-inspired finale. From body popping, to graceful pirouettes there was something to tickle everyone’s fancy. The show was in every way a tribute to the sheer dedication and ability of the members of the Dance Society. Natalie Stone
recognizable characters. The play maintains a good balance of humour and depth by interspersing heartfelt monologues with a playful probing into familiar awkward moments of social interaction. Through this, the play exposes the superficiality of first impressions. Due to this multifaceted aspect of the play, the cast exhibited a wide range and spot on timing to coordinate all the cues. Where the play genuinely shines however is the truly innovative moments such as when two sets of simultaneous dialogue overlap, and when the whole waiting room takes on the consciousness of one character; such as to relive a scarring car crash, or enact the paranoia of a pregnant teen. From the overpowering white of this hospital waiting room to the menacing black hospital room of the heavier Shiver, written and directed by Joy-Aisling Brown. This is a play that dissects complex realistic relationships between
three sisters with a stylistic hand, twisting fairytale tropes to expose the fragility and tenuousness of ‘happy’ endings. Though using a dark setting that innately holds a sense of potential dread, the play maintains a dramatic energy. This is heightened by the use of red lights that match Angeline’s dress, which foreshadow and build climatically to her psychological break-down. Amy Gilbrook shines as the vain and impetuous Angeline, who manages to scale a wealth of emotional states while remaining relatable and at times humorous. Matt King is a clear crowd pleaser, also bringing moments of comic relief as the down to earth Jason. Both performances overtly reveal the huge potential of these budding playwrights and directors, clearly emphasised through the dedication of each and every cast member to their role. Natalie Stone
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arts
the kids who paint Intrigued by the emergence of challenging art-forms produced by youngsters you would usually expect to be dabbling in fingerpaint, Tangwen Roberts explores why we are quick to judge these creative kids.
T
he indomitable Joanna Lumley once asked, “What the hell is the difference between a painting done by a person who wishes to paint like a child, and a child's painting?!”. Okay, these weren’t her own words; this ignorant approach to art was that of her outrageous character Patsy Stone in (Absolutely Fabulous). Those who, like Patsy, are unaware of the ideology behind modern and postmodern art may simply dismiss it as the daubs of paint and abstract creations of a child – the result of an over active imagination. There are however some astonishingly talented children in the UK, capable of turning such statements on their heads. From the young Pre-Raphaelites Millais and Rossetti to the more contemporary - and let’s face it, vomit inducing - ‘talents’ of the Olsen twins or Macaulay Culkin, the world has
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always played host to a range of precocious youths. Their abilities and ambitions in performing, creating and academia far outreach those of their peers, but have we been too quick to judge the motives and characters of modern child ‘geniuses’ and their parents?
"Introducing Kieron Williamson, who at seven years old already sells sketches for £900..." Introducing Kieron Williamson,
who at seven years old already sells sketches for £900. The youngster from Holt, Norfolk has already been compared to Picasso by an enthusiastic media. Perhaps stereotypical of the view we have developed of child prodigies, Kieron recently told the Guardian, he is not satisfied with being likened to one of the 20th century’s most recognised modernist artists and would far rather become a “Monet or Edward Seago”. Surely this choice of role-models is unusual, given that their ideas of impressionism now seem rather outdated to Kieron’s generation. Growing up in the postmodern era of the late 20th and early 21st centuries, he has been exposed to (thousands) of innovative, wacky representations of people, animals and landscape in modern media from Bernie and Corneil and their suburban surroundings in ‘Watch My Chops’ to the anime characters found
arts
like masters on websites such as animefringe. com. Instead of emulating these fashionable images and like any of his contemporaries producing a “child’s painting”, Kieron paints with a more conservative approach, using Impressionist techniques taught to him by local artist Carol Ann Pennington to portray natural forms with sparse human presence. So is every child artist quite so conservative in their creations or uninfluenced by their human surroundings? Ten year old Solveig from Brighton, interestingly - and perhaps far more fittingly than in Kieron’s case - has also been likened to the pioneering Cubist, with critics dubbing her “The young Picasso of street art” and the “female Banksy”. Solveig’s murals appear to be a “child’s painting”; bright, bold, cartoonish and cute, with imaginative human figures. In every way, her art is a direct contrast to Kieron’s. But, as he displays a great level of artistic maturity in technique, Solveig shows an equally impressive maturity in her commitment to the ideology behind graffiti art. A comparison to Banksy at a
young age is undoubtedly a daunting expectation to live up to. Yet in establishing her own, single-sex ‘All Girl Crew/AGC’ and painting her own piece on the Berlin Wall, Solveig shows that she is not merely a ‘wannabe’ Banksy or Dan Witz: she is politically aware. Solveig has immersed herself in graffiti culture. The thought of a group of young girls enterprising to make their mark on a subculture dominated by men is perhaps a little romantic. But isn’t it also great?
"Solveig shows that she is not merely a ‘wannabe’ Banksy" Now the inevitable question: are these talents the result of hardworking and self-made parents,
who live vicariously through their children to attain one dream that they failed. The answer surprised me. Keith and Michelle Williamson do not stand, fastidiously over Kieron’s work, pushing him on. Rather, they have stumbled upon and nurtured their son’s gift. Two years ago Keith was involved in an accident which ruled him out of his job. What was his hobby of art collecting turned into an occupation. Due to his father’s physical injuries, Kieron can no longer spend so much time outside with him. Remaining within a gardenless flat, brimming with art works, what more can Kieron do than see these works and be inspired to produce his own? Solveig has been lucky enough to be provided with special, legal graffiti walls in her area – and to have parents willing to fund her paints. These amazing talents, who blur the boundaries between adult and children’s painting, were discovered thanks to opportunity and chance. They were not bullied and intimidated into something they no longer enjoy.
arts@gairrhydd.com / 39
going out
Recommended
Bassquake
DMC Cardiff Heats
Baobinga and I.D.
Friday 14th May
Sunday 16th May
Friday 7th May
Millenium Music Hall
Buffalo
Cardiff Arts Institute
urely the greatest international DJ competition, DMC comes to Cardiff for the very first time. The 25 year old tournament pushes DJs to the limits of turntablism, mixing and scratching through sets of astounding variety and dexterity. With previous winners including Tony Vegas, Prime Cuts and JFB, you could witness the making of a future big name. The show will be hosted by DJ Woody, a name synonymous with turntable mastery, having won many UK and international titles. In support comes Cardiff’s mash-up kings Astrosnooze and former DMC runner-up DJ Killer Tomato.
icking off a new Friday format at Cardiff Arts Institute is two men who have earned great respect in the dance music world. Baobinga and ID have built their identity through their seemingly endless integrity, trying their hand at a variety of bass-driven genres. Originally associated with the rise of breakbeat towards the start of the decade, their sound is now infused with garage, tech and dub influence. With a new album out and bookings at the likes of Glade and Glastonbury festivals, it’s clear that Baobinga and I.D. are not to be missed. To top it off, the beats will be eminating from CAI's precision Funktion One Soundsystem.
A
fter yet another venue change from dubsteppers Neuropol, the Millenium Music Hall is to play host to one seriously bass-heavy line up. In poll position is half of Digital Mystiks, Coki. A producer who shot to fame in 2007 upon collaborating with Benga on the anthemic Night, one of the most commercially successful dubstep tunes to date. Another massive name on the bill is heavyweight N-Type. A giant of the genre, anyone who saw his set at Glo Bar last year will know exactly why. More dubstep madness comes courtesy of Cotti while junglist and ‘king of the amen break’ Remarc provides a measure of diversity. Massive.
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going out
Free To Party On the anniversary of the infamous
Castlemorton Common Festival, Jack Doran takes a look into the history of the illegal rave...
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going out
O
n the May bank holiday of 1992 a gathering of like-minded individuals occurred. Castlemorton Common, Worcestershire, became embedded in legend as 25,000 gypsies, travellers and ravers descended for the largest free party the UK has ever seen. The roots of the illegal rave, otherwise known as free parties, can be traced to the mid eighties, closely tied to the rise of dance music as we now know it. The ideals of the hippies and punks were adopted, freedom being the driving force; freedom of expression and freedom of congregation. The catalyst of the movement was undoubtedly the arrival of ecstasy, the active ingredient allowing people to dance all night. A great minority of people, dissatisfied with commercial clubbing, alcohol and bad music had found something they believed in. A collective energy was rising, a space had come to exist for those looking for euphoria, those looking to embrace, not fight, all within the confines of a party.
"The catalyst of the movement was undoubtedly the arrival of ecstasy" It was not long before the movement broke loose from the constraints of legality, moving from inner city nightclubs to the outdoors and into unlicensed premises. Party collective Hedonism threw the first illegal warehouse party in February of 1998, a trend that was to be integral to the scene. Through a loophole in squatters rights, organisers were able to seize control of the buildings and infamous soundsystems such as Spiral Tribe, Bedlam and Liberator would set up their huge rigs.
The late eighties and the start of the nineties marked the hey-day for Britain’s illegal ravers. Having originated and largely being held in London, groups of young people were inspired by what they saw in the capital. Setting up soundsystems of their own, the scene quickly spread all over the UK. From the very start, the free party movement was engaged in a constant running battle with police. New units were established with the very purpose of stopping the gatherings taking place. Phones were tapped, vehicles carrying rigs were monitored, roads were blockaded. In a bid to evade their presence, the parties would involve minimal promotion. Eager ravers waited at service stations on the M25 waiting for news of where there night’s antics would take place. Rave hotlines repeated recorded messages detailing their whereabouts, sometimes going live only a couple of hours before the events kicked off. In no time at all, thousands of people could descend on one place. Once in position, the authorities were powerless, attempting to disperse such numbers only proving more of a problem than the event itself. Fast forward to May bank holiday, 1992. The well established Avon Festival in the Bristol area was broken up by police. Thousands of disappointed ravers were in need of somewhere to party so hit the road to join the masses at Castle Morton Common. For one week, multiple soundsystems blasted their choice of beats 24 hours a day. The party wasn’t hard to find as the mass media pounced upon the story. Nationwide, people continued to flock to Worcestershire, the party grew and grew, an epic congregation in the name of rave. The events of that sunny bank holiday were not to be ignored; rather the Castlemorton Common free party marked a huge shift in the very nature of rave. In 1994 John Major’s conservative government raised the resources for a thorough reaction. With huge
outcries from many directions, the Criminal Justice and Public Order Act 1994 was passed. The police were granted new powers to apprehend anyone suspected of organising, attending or travelling to a rave. Owners of soundsystems were to face the harsh reality of having their expensive equipment confiscated, receiving fines of up to £20 000 and possibly being imprisoned. Not only this but the new legislation had savage repercussions for the travelling, gypsy and squatting communities through amendments to trespassing law.
"Some cited Castlemorton as the official end of free party culture" Some cited it as the official end of free party culture. Many of the kings of the scene went overground, the likes of Eat Static and Orbital capitalised on their influence, launching successful careers in the mainstream. Other soundsystems fled to Europe, desperate to maintain the freedom they experienced in earlier days. It was clear that events on that scale were simply no longer feasible. The scene, having taken a serious blow, lived on but in a different form. Parties were pushed deep into the countryside, where the chance of police disruption was minimal. Rather than the thousands or even tens of thousands being in attendance, numbers at free parties were more likely to be in the hundreds. Every weekend diverse groups of people still congregate in front of great stacks of speakers, raving, dropping, feeling the free party vibes, you just might have to look a little harder to find them.
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music
music albums:katenash
feature:barelyregal
local:review
newsinbrief
top shelf jazz, 24.04.10, globe
F
ine purveyors of filthyswing epitomises the music and behaviour of these Lotharios perfectly. The jazz quintet have a little bit of a reputation around Cardiff for their filthy minds and flapperfriendly tunes, and this gig was no different. They open the show with a message from their sponsor – Cheap Drink – and urge the audience that use of such a sponsor will make Top Shelf Jazz more enjoyable and the audience more attractive. We oblige. This band is one that really has to be seen to be enjoyed, the atmosphere and banter throughout the evening proving impeccable. Fred Snow's relationship with the crowd is one of a dirty uncle, and anecdotes about dissecting neighbourhood pets always seem to hit the spot. Unfortunately, however, I think it sums up us as an audience more than it does them as a band. The inclusion of a tap dancer as extra percussion sums up the nature of this band, who provide excellent song after song, most of which are from their debut album. By the end of the evening, the majority of the room have left their tables and 1920s dancing is in full swing. Literally. Robin Morgan
live:rolotomassi
goodbye toucan
beachbreak opposition
n Quench's last issue we gladly announced the news that The Globe, after much drama, would indeed remain open. After a string of closures over the past few years this was a pleasant surprise and things were starting to look uncharacteristically good for Cardiff. No venue was publicly facing closure and our continually growing music scene finally seemed to be settling down. Too good to be true, perhaps, as it's now been confirmed that Toucan Club has unexpecantly closed down in what's sure to be a blow to the city's range of offerings. It's not the first time it's happened to Toucan, however, as its Womanby Street home was already its third incarnation since first opening in 1986. Things seemed to be going better than ever, too, after a healthy involvement in this year's SWN festival, a hold over some of Cardiff's biggest nights (drum&bass/dubstep with Neuropol on Wednesdays, monthly reggae fun with Ju Ju Nations), and a welcomely diverse set of live performances all to its name. The fact that it's closed down before will hopefully mean it's not the last we hear from Toucan, although the disappointment of another lost venue can't be helped.
eachbreak Live, one of the UK's only strictly student festivals, is facing serious local opposition from its proposed site in Carmarthenshire - a natural beauty spot called Pembrey County Park. During a licensing hearing, sixteen objectors claimed that the plans for the festival were 'shambolic', and on top of that, over one hundred written complaints have been received by the licensing committee. Things aren't looking great, let's be honest, especially since the festival had to completely move its location last year and ended up, well, not on a beach. So the name 'Break' would have been more appropriate. How much effect these complaints will have is not yet clear, but residents are apparently worried that the festival could lead to noise, traffic and alcohol problems. Could. So nothing's certain there, but we have an inkling that the locals are going to face a nasty suprise if Beach Break goes ahead in its original location. By the time this is printed, Carmarthenshire's licensing committee will have visited the site and made a decision, so we'll keep you updated on any progressions in the next issue of Quench.
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music-feature
"We wanted to showcase all the unsigned bands we’ve seen over the past year which have really grabbed our attention. They inspired us to start a label in the first place." - Matt Fiddler
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feature-music
Barely Regal - the brain-child of Cardiff alumni Isaac Jones and Matt Fidler - launches its first compilation this month. Phil Guy considers the label's significance to the local scene, and the example it sets to those about to graduate...
F
or a number of us here at Quench, May 2010 comes like a sharp slap in the face. Being mostly made-up of third years, it’s almost time for us to complete the transition from lethargic, loan-loving Lidl frequenters into 9-to-5 professional types who get paid for stuff. I don’t know about anyone else, but I still lie down for at least an hour every afternoon, so on the ‘realperson’ front, things are developing fairly slowly. I’ll use this metaphor to emphasis a quick point. If we were to take the pre-Classical theory of a flat earth and label the surface ‘fun’, then leaving university would be the equivalent to falling off the edge. The abyss could be labelled ‘council tax’ or something, I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Anyway, for those of you who might concur, here is a feature that might help soften the blow that comes with entering that fun-free zone. Matt Fidler and Isaac Jones, Cardiff University alumni, can teach us that the years following university can be filled with some great ideas and some truly worthwhile ventures, particularly when it comes to music. Barely Regal Records, founded back in March 2009, is a label that intends to reel in the unsigned acts operating around Cardiff and give them an output. Through releases, promotions and live events, the label aims to give the unsung heroes of Cardiff’s music scene their time in the limelight. While Stereophonics play castles, stadiums and other places clearly not intended for live music; while Los Campesinos yelp their way round every continent;
while Lostprophets plan another photo-shoot and clothing range, Barely Regal supports those artists who are down at Clwb Ifor Bach every week and who spend more time in Musicbox than they do in their own homes. Last week saw Matt and Isaac launch their first compilation – the sardonically named Zero Years of Barely Regal – which features fourteen tracks from some of Cardiff’s unsigned bands. Some will be familiar, and some may not, but rest assured each outfit have earned their spot among the capital’s most promising musical prospects. Looking over the track-listing, the collection succeeds both as an introduction to Cardiff’s local scene and as a who’s-who of bands doing the rounds this summer. You won’t have to look too far or wait too long for the bands to appear in a venue near you.
"The label supports the unsung heroes of Cardiff's music scene." There are also reminders here of what makes Cardiff’s scene special. For me, Barely Regal’s compilation brings to mind some of the memorable live performances I’ve seen in my three years in Cardiff: Right Hand Left Hand, for example, closing Swn 2009 by tearing up The
Model Inn (where footprints on the ceiling prompted security intervention); Man Without Country playing to a heaving bottom-floor in Clwb Ifor Bach, completing their transformation from bedroom experimenters into Cardiff’s Next Big Thing; Strange News From Another Star spending more time playing on amps or in crowds than on a stage. These are fragments of a scene that deserves more attention from its locals, and Barely Regal operates in the hope of making that the case. Digital copies of the compilation are available from iTunes and Amazon, but for those of you who missed the launch of the compilation last week, your chances of getting a physical copy are pretty minimal. You may well find some origami Barely Regal cubes around town, though (‘adding an extra dimension to flyering’, the website teaches us), and they represent a slim glimmer of hope for those of us coming to the end of our university careers. Take a cube-shaped promo as a reminder then, third-year Quench readers, that all is not lost when your last loan’s gone and your results are in. Matt and Isaac started a record label. Perhaps that flat earth of ‘fun’ is more spherical than we first assumed.
Zero Years of Barely Regal is available via download after 25th May through iTunes and Amazon. Information and blog available at barelyregalrecords.wordpress.com
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music-feature
a requiem for a
PUNK? In the wake of legendary punk manager Malcom Mclaren's death, mature student Richard Thomas reflects on how the movement changed his life...
M
any articles about the advent of punk rock may begin by painting a picture of a genteel, austere world of the late 1970’s where hitherto the most shocking mass produced pop music had come from the androgynous David Bowie, the New York Dolls or perhaps Captain Beefheart. Then, all hell was let loose. This is going to be roughly similar. Nothing new there, and nothing new about 70’s teenagers either – just like their parents off the 50’s, with money to spend on 45’s, blue jeans and rock n’ roll and bad boy rebels like Gene Vincent and Elvis leading a comparatively austere revolt. By the time I was a teenager, fashion, rebellion and angst had driven up a blind alley of glam rock, platform shoes and flared trousers. The Sex Pistols, loved and loathed, caught the attention of a suburban kid who couldn’t get to grips with Marc Bolan and Oxford bags. Officially anyway. From the safety of 33 years distance, the Pistols were always a bit radical for a wimpy moderate like me, but they did a nice job of ruffling feathers and defrosting reality. They also established a four piece format that was mimicked endlessly – a total nutter (Sid Vicious), a scheming, charismatic and gobby frontman (Johnny Rotten) and two cheeky chappies (Jones and Cook) along for the beer. Suddenly, anyone like me with access to musical instruments, an empty garage and half sympathetic
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parents was in a band - a conduit to air the grumbling anxieties of growing up. Previously my favourite musical instrument was the dinner gong, but here I was playing bass in PLUS SUPPORT - wittily titled urban thrashers with huge ideas, huge egos, huge grudges but zero talent. Musically I was clueless of course, but so were the feted bands we held as heroes – truly a triumph of style over substance, safety pin over song writing. It was chaotic, exhilarating, and in 1979 Mrs Thatcher was thrown in the mix like paraffin on an already roaring bonfire. I was still a bit nervous. Bonfire wise, I was never engulfed totally but did hop around the fringes enough to singe the odd eyebrow. The bedlam and mess of it all was a bit directionless for me – as an anarchist I would be the one arranging the coffee mornings and focus groups. I dabbled with hair dye and clothing, but lacked the hardened will to upset anyone other than my parents. I did find some synergy though, in one man who seemed to say what I was thinking, and who at last looked like I wanted to look. Take centre stage Joe Strummer. I had tried most varieties. The Skids, The Jam, Stiff Little Fingers, The Damned, The Photos and X Ray Specs, but The Clash, and Joe
especially, were on my wavelength. He – they – were loud and angry, but were more about making things better than smashing things up and in retrospect they appealed to the socialist in me. Not that I realised that at the time – I was still wondering if I should get my ear pierced but decided it was far too extreme. I saw the Clash several times, once in 1980 at Sophia Gardens Pavilion here in Cardiff -a great loss when it burned down years ago. It was a balmy July night in 1982 that I remember best. A pal had moved to Uxbridge and we took a bus to Brixton. It was over a year since the riots but shops still bore scars of the unrest, and the odd burned out car remained as a sinister reminder. The Fair Deal Brixton was later called the Brixton Academy and then the 02 Academy Brixton. It was an old picture house type place, and this was the Clash at the peak of their visceral powers. I remember Joe that night, with his no-arms checked shirt, sweat crashing off his head like a wave. His Mohican was just growing back and it was the coolest thing I had ever seen. Years later he even managed to make wearing a suit look cool - anarchic, rebellious and suave at the
feature-music
same time – his appearance on The Letterman Show singing ‘Johnny Appleseed’ with The Mescaleros in 2001 typified the earnestness of his passion, and his skill in delivering a message with his croaky, Surreyfied vocal, long after the Clash had argued themselves into oblivion. Less than two years later, he was gone, claimed by a heart attack after a country stroll with his dogs. My icon was lost and Joe never had to be a quiet old man – his last gig a month before his death had been a passionate support of striking firefighters. There are many contemporary reminders of those days, when Joe and his (and in my opinion, lesser) peers lit the way. I still meet some co-rebels socially – you make lifelong friends in revolutions, even small ones like ours. We sit in the corner of the pub and complain about the loud music, discuss good deals on bathroom tiles and worry about our children. Stiff Little Fingers are in Cardiff, but they are
like us - paunchy middle aged men. Johnny Rotten endorses butter dressed in a tweed suit and Sid Vicious is not turning, but spinning in his grave. I reconnected on Facebook with the most extreme member of the old gang. He was a hardened tub-thumping-AntiNazi-Ban-the-bomb- down-withThatcher-I-hate-the-world- can’tstop-snarling left wing activist. He’s a merchant banker. He was more probably more popular as a punk. Another acquaintance, once a very extreme and scary punk indeed jumped on my bus the other day. He had just been shopping in Sainsbury’s. Punk by night, office clerk by day, I once saw him, still in grey suit and tie, write ANARCHY
on a wall in yellow paint on his way home. He couldn’t even wait to get the kilt, leather trousers and eye liner on. He got off the bus, screwed up his ticket and snarled as he threw it on the floor. Still passionate, like Joe. Punk may wear slippers these days and have a nap after lunch on Sundays, but it’s still alive. So powerful were those days, whether we spend our days in academia or pouring over hedge funds, it smoulders somewhere in all of us. Ah, Joe. God Bless You. God Save The Queen.
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music-albums
The Futureheads The Chaos
Nul Records
"F
ive, four, three, two, one – let’s go" – and so commences The Chaos, the fourth album from The Futureheads. It is, from the outset, an assertive and exhaustive combination of indie guitar riffs and energetic pop-punk. The boys from Sunderland, who are touring the UK this month, describe their latest release as “complicated”, but on listening, this seems a little exaggerated. Immediately, the album is fastpaced and perhaps heavier than would normally be expected – but they haven’t shed their pop-punk roots just yet. Struck Dumb, the first single to be released, leads with singer Barry Hyde in his distinctive half-sung/half-spoken vocals narrating the tale of yet another scene kid (“for crying out loud, stop following your crowd”) which brings to mind all indie-pop circa 2005. Heartbeat Song then follows which is even more pop than the others and only serves as an irritating reminder of some Scouting For Girls song of the same name. The album is crammed with bursts of pop-punk energy that cover uncomplex, typically teenage subjects but they never go much further. Some slightly more notable tracks, however, include slower songs, The Sun Goes Down and This Is The Life, which when they get started, are tuneful, easy listens that wouldn’t sound out of place on a summer mix-tape. The boys have set up their own record label, Nul Records, after gaining widespread popularity with earlier albums, particularly their first two. While they remain zealous, with no sign of quitting soon, I am sceptical as to whether their new releases will match up to earlier hits such as Skip To The End and Hounds Of Love. It's a shame to see that a few years on from those successes, The Chaos comes as something of a disappointment. Gabi Ford
5.
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Goldfrapp Head First
Mute Records
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oldfrapp’s new album, their fifth, is a triumphant return to form. Opening track Rocket is stupidly infectious, with its slow synth intro and big bolshy chorus. It’s the perfect start to the album, and their best lead single since 2003’s Train. Dreaming is more moody and dramatic, sounding like a hybrid of ABC, Saint Etienne and various early Noughties dance acts. It shouldn’t work but it really does. The opening salvo of Hunt wouldn’t sound out of place on an Ali G soundtrack, yet it turns into proper 3-in-the-morning mood music. Closing track Voicething is the sound of the future as inhabited
by as-yet-unimaginable robots. A cross between breathy android orgasms and heavenly robotic choirs, blended to great effect. To suggest that the album owes much to the Eighties would perhaps be missing the point. Alison Goldfrapp and Will Gregory have never been easy to pigeonhole in terms of genre, and whilst the 1980s-revival bandwagon is ongoing, Goldfrapp are still setting trends rather than following them. Yes, you get the dreamy, melodic synths and dark rhythms synonymous with so many Eighties tracks. Yet equally there’s nods to the Seventies, Noughties, and 2095. Not every track blows you away, but there aren’t any bad songs here. With so many bands making terrible albums this far into their careers, it’s pleasing to find a group that still doesn’t give a fuck and makes great music on their terms. Greg A. Rees
7.
albums-music
Cypress Hill Rise Up
Priority Records
Goldfrapp
T
Kate Nash My Best Friend Is You
Polydor
T
his is Kate Nash’s second album, My Best Friend Is You. It is quite good. Cheese on toast is also quite good with a nice cup of tea. I like nice things. See, talking in Nash-speak grates after a while. It may get to the point succinctly but you soon feel like chundering everywhere, which is sort of the effect that the mundane storytelling of Kate’s first album had on me. Thankfully though, Kate confines her trademark crayola-hued take on the world to only one or two songs on her follow-up: notably, I Hate Seagulls, on which she talks about 'picking strawberries’ and Don’t You Want To Share The Guilt, where
she candidly admits that ‘barbeque food is good’. Otherwise, it’s actually pretty topnotch. Opener Paris is infectiously bouncy in a Saturday-morning-kids’TV kind of way, while Do-Wah-Doo is such a sun-soaked, catchy little number it hurts. And to balance out the breezy optimism of some of the songs, there is the raunchy guitar work of I Just Love You More and the dreamy vocals of I’ve Got A Secret adding a bit of underground bite to proceedings. You cannot overlook the feisty spoken-word centrepiece Mansion Song either, where Kate practically gnashes her teeth together in declaring, ‘I’m an independent woman of the 21st Century’. Altogether, this album offers a broader spectrum of styles, both musically and lyrically, than her first and, consequently, Kate proves that there’s a lot more to her than just ‘singing eh-oh on a Friday night’. Matt Wright
7.
he first album in six years, three years in the making and eight tracks with 'feat.' in the title: Cypress Hill are back. Rise Up not only demonstrates DJ Muggs’ accomplished production but also features guest producers from both musical worlds. This creates a diverse collection of songs linked by Sen Dog and B-Real’s lyrical trademarks of cops, guns and marijuana. Especially the latter. Half collaborations, half classic Cypress Hill, Rise Up can feel a little disrupted at times. Certainly, the group’s own material is far more consistent than their work with others, whilst still showcasing a wide range of musical accompaniment, including 70s-esque strings in I Unlimited and an ethereal, reverbed-up R&B choir in Armed And Dangerous. Vocally, however, the album lacks originality with typical three-word choruses, boasts about the superiority of rhymes and a few “yeah”s thrown in for good measure. Any vocal deficiencies are offset by the new lyrical possibilities opened up by guest collaborations, putting the group in a different context and mindset. This is, perhaps surprisingly, best evidenced by Linkin Park’s Mike Shinoda and his track Carry Me Away; with its subdued guitar melodies and retrospective rhymes it’s a welcome change of pace from an otherwise aggressive tracklisting. Subtlety, of course, is not part of the Hill’s style, and Tom Morello’s contributions do little to change this, his bombastic riffs perfectly complementing the insurrectional vocal delivery on the album’s title track. One of Rise Up’s greatest strengths lies in its wide variety of musical styles and collaborations, but this amalgamation of genres also proves to be its undoing; there is little consistency from track to track, indicating a release that, while solid enough, may have been a little too long in the making. Michael Brown
6.
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music-live
Rolo Tomassi Clwb Ifor Bach
18th April 2010
Chapel Club
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Chapel Club Barfly
12th April 2010
L
ike many media-hyped bands, Chapel Club have spent a lot of time recently playing to record label folk, which is evident in the clinical, no-nonsense performance they treat the Barfly to tonight. From the stately opener Surfacing, you could suggest that their brooding, pouting powerpop has been groomed and gift-wrapped like a poodle ready for Crufts. In a way, this is a good thing; it lends them a sense of well-oiled professionalism, complementing the well-crafted nature of their songs. Unfortunately, such professionalism also makes them seem icy, distant and maybe even a bit sterile. For instance, frontman Lewis Bowman barely acknowledges the audience, while I’m fairly sure the
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guitarists are more interested in their pedals than their punters. Things do pick up, however, when the silky opening bass riff of current single O Maybe I coils around the venue like a python, about four songs in. Chapel Club need more songs like this –a cracking tune laced with creamy, spacedout guitars that teasingly dip in and out before igniting into a tremolo burn off.
"The songs seem a tad limp and samey" By comparison, the rest of the songs seem a tad limp and samey, lacking the same urgency and conviction. It doesn’t help either that Chapel Club finish very abruptly at the end, leaving you feeling somewhat short-changed. Matt Wright
pparently, Rolo Tomassi can be categorized under the subgenre of ‘synthdriven mathcore’. To you or me, this is perhaps better described as a mash-up between Foals, Bring Me The Horizon and a Super Nintendo. The young band sauntering onstage to the sound of glowing synthesizers don’t look like they’d want to offend your eardrums; the petite figure of frontwoman Eva Spence stands on tiptoes as she reaches for the microphone, whilst her bandmates experiment with effects pedals behind her. Sadly, the ambience doesn’t last for long. As the tempo sharply switches from light breeze to hurricane, I begin to wonder whether the ‘music’ that Rolo Tomassi produce would be better off used as a substitution for white noise in the cruelest methods of sound torture at Guantanamo Bay. Guitars, keyboards and drums seem oblivious to one another, as the pedigree kitten that Eva Spence was hurls itself around the stage like a rabid wildcat, violently coughing up throaty hairballs of noise. This is a slap to the face of anyone who thinks that girls can’t be in rock bands; despite her cutesy appearance, it seems like Eva can growl with the best of them. The rest of the band seem perfectly capable with their instruments too, it’s purely the manner in which they choose to play them that annoys me. Although there’s the occasional flash of a hook amongst Rolo Tomassi’s trademark spasm of confused feedback, this isn’t exactly the kind of gig you’ll come away from humming a catchy chorus – trying to grasp a recognizable riff is like trying to pick flowers in an avalanche. This was, above all, a pretentious night out for emo kids, and anyone who likes a bit of melody in their music would be well advised to stay the hell away from Rolo Tomassi. Matt Ayres
live-music Rolo Tomassi
Gallops! & Threatmantics Clwb Ifor Bach
17th April 2010
‘T
his is going to be our last song’ monotones Gallops! frontman Mark Huckridge in a moment of rare quietude amidst the aural maelstrom that has proven itself to be Gallops! set. But both the statement and the stater are underpinned by a degree of contradiction. Firstly, referring to Gallops! compositions as merely songs does not do justice to the electro-symphonic preludes that Gallops! so unflinchingly compose. Gallops! set is both blisteringly kinetic and worryingly engaging considering the power with which they execute themselves. It is forty minutes of unyielding mathrock riffage, heavy beats & electro soundscapes that are impossible to come away from with a feeling that one has come close to something
profound and residual. Secondly, to consider Mark Huckridge to be the frontman, simply due to the fact he is the only one that speaks throughout the set, and not during the songs, simply as a means of mid-song, crowd interaction, seems a contradiction in itself. But Gallops! are a band that, if nothing else, will never fail stimulate. For those who may not have had a penchant for Gallops! mathematical efforts, then Threatmantics’ wonky pop efforts may (and I stress the importance of the word may) have been somewhat more suitable. As far as line-ups go, this was definitely a weird one. Gallops!, with their breakneck style of agitprog, and Threatmantics with their deviant interpretation of neo-folk are two bands as polarised as you will (probably) ever see on a bill together. Threatmantics saunter onto the stage, minus lead songstress Taliesyn Eurys Källström, as ramshackle a bunch as can be expected and amidst onstage yells of “where the
f**k is she?”, Taliesyn bolts from the back of the room, onto the stage completely covered in glitter, and their set begins. There were several uncomfortable moments prior when the question of whether the gig would continue would not lodge itself from the mind. But Taliesyn’s blindsiding proved a predicate for the remainder of the set. Threatmantics set is littered with moments of clarity juxtaposed by seconds of utter confusion. They meander their way through a set of songs; some that make you want to dance, some that make you want to cry, and some that simply make you think what the hell?, but so is in keeping with the night itself. This was a fine, if somewhat under-populated tribute to independent record stores the country over, but considering the oldest independent record is itself based in Cardiff, it seems somewhat bitter than more people did not some along and pay their own tributes. Jon Berry
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music-singles
Gorillaz
singles round-up
Gorillaz Superfast Jellyfish Parlophone
8.
Charlotte Gainsbourg
The Twilight Sad
Time Of The Assassins Because Music
The Room Fat Cat Records
6.
It makes perfect sense that Gorillaz have built their latest single around samples from an ‘80s cereal commercial, which goes to show what an innovative approach Damon Albarn’s “virtual band” have taken in the British music scene. A quirky spin on pop sensibility, this remains catchier than any track from Demon Days. It also features Gruff Rhys, who’s from around here. Nice. MA
She’s massive in France but overlooked here, which is criminal. Talented actress Gainsbourg’s breathy, perfect diction blends well with the drifting, film-noir melodies on this, her new single. It may not be groundbreaking, but it’s suitably weird enough to grab your attention and stay there, and it’s perfect for soundtracks. GR
Ellie Goulding
November & The Criminal
Guns And Horses Polydor
7.
Sorry to dissapoint all the gun collectors and horse lovers but this song has nothing to do with either. However, instead you get a couple of Shakira-esque wolf howls, some mellow synths and cheerful clapping. Overall Goulding seems to have finely dodged the bullet of annoyingly repitive lyrics a la Starry Eyed instead offering up a song that seems honest and heartfelt for the summer, and I for one like it. LT
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November & The Criminal
Big Cartel
8.
With a sound that can be approximated as shoegaze for the postLibertines generation, November & The Criminal certainky offer something different. Vials is the standout track here, with a refrain that despite being near indistinguishable on a first listen will quickly get stuck in your head. There's definitely promise here, the only real criticism being that the lyrics as yet do not match up to the high standard set by the music. TR
7.
On this record, singer James Graham’s porridge-thick Scotch burr makes Glasvegas sound like they come from Surrey. Musically speaking, The Room is a wild-deer cavorting, mountain-top yelling slice of misty Scottish morning epicness; think ether-piercing drum beat, shimmering piano and tidal-wave guitars. Live, this could be magnificent. MW
Efterklang I Was Playing Drums 4AD
9.
Piano and languid violins build tentatively with typically ethereal beauty and meanders without distraction. It is downbeat but the sense of payoff makes it captivating. It's the closest Efterklang have come to making a pop song, and when the soaring lyric 'Why do they keep you here, til the mind will forget?' announces itself, it punctures the mood and gives way to a sense of wonder. LG
film
film Upcoming Releases Out Now Alice in Wonderland, Cemetery Junction, Centurion, Clash of the Titans, Date Night, Dear John, How to Train Your Dragon, Iron Man 2 Kick-Ass, The Disappearance of Alice Creed, The Ghost, The Jonses, Valhalla Rising, Whip It! 7th May Four Lions Hot Tub Time Machine Nightmare on Elm Street The Back-Up Plan 12th May Robin Hood @ Chapter this week: I Love You Phillip Morris, City of Life and Death, Dr. Strangelove, Green Zone, The Ghost
Piranha 3D Well it has 'Piranha' and '3D' in the title, therefore my judgment is that I’m going to hate this before I’ve touched play. The trailer is a mess of promises as to what this film is going to be about. It has scantliy clad hot people dancing about, and then all of a sudden it gets all Jaws on you with dark flashy bits to make you frightened of these ridiculous monster piranhas. It tries to provide you with some acting credibility in the form of Back To The Future star Christopher Lloyd and other lowlevel celebrities that haven't been around for as long. There are some weird stunts and explosions showcased but it just generally looks awful, although no doubt people who find themselves drawn to 3D stuff as they have no film taste will see this. JT.
We Like...
-A prequel to get excited about! Sir Ridley of Scott has confirmed plans for an Alien minus 30 years. He says it will be based on 'terraforming' - smashing planets together in order to create new lifeforms. I wonder what they will be?.. -Kick-Ass. Joyously accidental, awesomly colourful, it's left the pallid recent comic book films wondering how a film can be both empathetic and action filled. YES! -Kirsten Dunst has been cast in a Lars Von Trier psychological sci-fim, Melancholia. In itself this is strangely exciting, but add Charlotte Gainsbourg, 2 Skarsgaards and Kiefer Sutherland in the mix and the film which deals with the death of the planet is shaping up to the scary beauty of Antichrist.
BAN THAT Sick Film!
How To Train Your Dragon This pernicious, sick tale supposedly aimed at children made me appopletically angry. The lazy non-conformist son wants to train a dangerous animal and the film sees no wrong in this. Even worse is the subtle hint of teenage masturbation as the teenage boy teaches his flaming dragon to roar. The beast erupted out of the screen in 3D, making me tip my English Tea everywhere. The suggestion that the evil dragon can be tamed seems to insist that child offenders should be treated as if they are any more than sub-human scum. The dragon should be shot and the boy conscribed. Verdict - Evil LG. for Christopher Tookey
Trailer
Trash
film@gairrhydd.com/55
film
Does Gay Cinema really begin and end with a Comboy tent romp in the outback? Anna Siemiaczko looks at three of the most uncompromosing, original and beautiful Gay films.
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GA Y
film
CINEMA T
hrow a gay character into a script and a nice little controversy and success will follow. It’s simply fashionable nowadays to have a gay character, a character that is familiar with the gay scene, has a gay friend or a gay boyfriend, a gay mother or a brother, makes the whole thing spicier, right? That’s one very ignorant, although increasingly popular among those less-acquainted with the history of the cinema, way of looking at what is often called a new phenomenon of the “gay”, “queer”, “homo” or more politically correct perhaps “LGBT” cinema. This automatically brings the question of how to approach such a broad and rich topic when, in fact, tons of books and essays have been written not to mention the astounding number of films that have been made? In fact, even drawing the distinction between ‘gay’ or ‘straight’ cinema would, after all, simply be deprecating. Instead of wasting time on vain divagations on the nature of gay or queer cinema, I’d much rather focus on the few films that have struck me the most with their appreciation of beauty, unconventional struggle against stereotyping and marginalizing along with outstanding acting. I’ve chosen three of my favourites to attempt to perhaps give you a good starting point to venture out and uncover your own gay masterpieces.
Before being acclaimed one of the greatest actors of his generation, Daniel Day-Lewis starred in an originally produced for television, low-budget My Beautiful Laundrette (1985), the script of which, written by one of the primary Asian voices of Britain, Hanif Kureishi, went on to be nominated for BAFTA and eventually Academy Awards. While this example of new realist British cinema deals mostly with a subject of racism and nationalism during the early 1980’s under the conservative government of Margaret Thatcher, it also
very naturally portrays the relationship quite paradoxical and contradictory at its core. Not so often, after all, do we see on the screen a right-wing extremist (Day-Lewis) falling for a descendant of Pakistani immigrants (Warnecke), in a way that never seems shocking, only full of affection and intimacy. The relationship between Johnny and Omar breaks the circle of hostility, anger and mistrust.
"Van Sant isn't afraid to touch on matters of male prostitution and questions of enforced sexuality" A long time before the very political Milk (2008) with its straight-forward historical manifesto, the great Gus Van Sant directed My Own Private Idaho (1993) with then yet pre-Matrix-unknown Keanu Reeves and the living legend of a boisterous stardom – River Phoenix. The film is quite unconventional in its portrayal of gay issues as it can be argued that in fact it represents no gay issues. Eh? Right, an example to the rescue. It is not certain whether the main protagonist or, as a matter of fact, his friend and a crucial figure to the story are gay themselves. Gus Van Sant subtly draws the lines of his characters’ traits, personalities and, indeed, also sexualities. The closer we look, we see homosexual undertones, as well as the film questioning traditional gender roles and perception of masculinity. It isn't scared to touch on matters of male prostitution and consequently the question of “enforced” homosexuality as well as love at its simplest and most honest form pictured at the campfire scene.
Set against the background of transition from dictatorship to democracy in Argentina in the 1980’s, Burnt Money tells the unique story based on true events of two partners in crime, Ángel and Nene and their complicated and passionate relationship. Burnt Money falls into many genres including action, thriller and romance. It even has that noir touch to it, with a melancholic yet suspenseful end.It is perhaps the story like many others, of two people in love, which never is easy and straight-forward. With an abundance of compelling and poignant acting and gripping sensuous undertones throughout the film, the intensity of sexual tension and deep affection between the two protagonists is portrayed radiantly. It is, however, most importantly the tale of devotion and friendship, almost a fairy tale one that is ever lasting and conquers all obstacles, betrayal, jealousy, pain and fury. Deeply touching and greatly underappreciated Burnt Money is a landmark portrayal of homosexual love not only in Latin American, but a world cinema.
There’s more to LGBT representation in the cinema than Brokeback Mountain (which, on a side note, is an excellent mainstream outreach) or even a recent A Single Man for that matter. LGBT issues are very often hidden, hinted, almost closeted, this being the case especially at the very beginning of motion pictures. Whether we are watchful followers of this flourishing movement or only Brokeback lovers, it is crucial to remember, however, that, no matter which particular issues are voiced and touched upon, all these films are the stories of the people, the individuals, their struggle with their own identities, their loves and betrayals, the pain and the joy of the part of themselves that does not define them, but in a lot of ways makes them who they are. Anna Siemiaczko
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film
Date Night Dir: Shawn Levy Cast: Steve Carell, Tina Fey, Mark Wahlberg, Ray Liotta
H
ere’s a kooky twist on the tattered safety net of a romantic comedy: throw your endearing, middle-aged couple into the throngs of a heated blackmail between gun-toting New York gangster stereotypes. The outcome? Not as much fun it sounds…
"A pointless movie" The rush of a school morning is all too relatable as we meet Phil and Claire Foster, the proud working parents embodied by Steve Carell and Tina Fey. They’re typical middle-class Americans with typically adorable but annoying kids, the type that will jump on your head at 5am only to proclaim 'I love you!' At this point, it feels more like an episode of Outnumbered than a film entitled Date Night, and
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I prematurely hope that I’m in for a refreshingly honest take on domestic romance. There are some genuine laugh out loud moments here – Carell in particular seems to have broken out of his usual goofball roles, presenting a more refined, witty father next to the charmingly scatterbrained mother that Fey portrays. All too soon though, the couple’s relationship begins to show cracks, and so does the on-screen chemistry between Carell and Fey. As the Fosters venture through pretentious Manhattan restaurants in an attempt to spark some life into their mechanical relationship, what should have been a character-enhancing obstacle becomes a wild and gratuitous tangent. The previously playful plotline is replaced with unmistakable stupidity; the Fosters are somehow mistaken for a pair of flash-drive thieving lowlifes, and chased around New York in a pursuit worryingly reminiscent of Dude, Where’s My Car? for the remainder of the film. We’re presumably supposed to draw some kind of romance-ain’t-dead moral by the finale of this whole debacle. Personally, I was too distracted by the juxtaposition of car chases and penis jokes to mistake it for anything but a pointless movie. Matt Ayres
3.
Dear John Dir: Lasse Hallestrom Cast: Amanda Seyfried, Channing Tatum, Richard Jenkins, Henry Thomas
B
ased on the novel written by Nicholas Sparks, author of the acclaimed romantic drama The Notebook, Dear John follows the blossoming relationship between ‘do-good’ college girl Savannah (Seyfried) and Special Forces Army sergeant John (Tatum) after he dives into the sea to save her purse. His gentlemanly actions buy him some ‘get-toknow-you’ time with Savannah and they quickly fall in love, but after two happy weeks together, the couple are separated as John returns to his post in the army, and so the romantic letter writing begins... Predictably, the plot was not going to merely allow John to return to Savannah after one measly year so that they could live happily-ever-after, and it turns out that 9/11 strikes just
as John should be returning home for good. The situation forces him to continue in his post and thus leaves poor Savannah hubby-less for the time being. Throughout the film the protagonists are bombarded with difficult circumstances including dealing with autistic parents and children, cancer patients and being shot at. The love-affair between the characters seems somewhat abandoned when they are faced with so many other trying situations, and so the romance side of the film slowly dies. The idea of love going deeper than purely romantic connection adds a nice touch to the film, however the final scene does feel slightly clichéd, and so failed to make me reach for the tissues. The romantic leads' likeable characters were not given much satisfaction within the plot, and so this adaptation fails to impress in the way that The Notebook did, where the emotions seemed realistically intense. The more subtle nature of Sparks' earlier work made great tear-jerking viewing. and it seems that even Halleström's usual lighthearted direction couldn’t successfully brighten many moments within Dear John's narrative. Charlotte Fennell
5.
The Ghost Dir: Roman Polanski Cast: Ewan McGregor, Pierce Brosnan, Kim Cattrall, Olivia Williams, Timothy Hutton
A
successful ghost writer (McGregor) agrees to complete the unfinished memoirs of former PM Adam Lang (Brosnan), a project seemingly doomed after the death of the previous writer in an unfortunate accident.
''Parodying every pleb Prime Minister." The Ghost is a plain, old-fashioned thriller, and you can see it in Roman Polanski’s shooting of the barren surroundings, threatening yet attractive. Hitchcockeqsue, the tone, pace and protagonist of the film all echo its
predecessors, but still retain originality in its detail and pithy dialogue. McGregor plays the eponymous Ghost, who’s name we never actually discover, providing a likeable hero. His everyman quality is endearing; his varying levels of Cockney accent throughout the film less so. Brosnan is good, snarling and smouldering in equal measure in a role parodying every pleb PM and President in recent history. The comparisons to Blair are thinly veiled, but the film is definitely not a parody, and you soon forget the parallels to real life. Olivia Williams steals scenes as Lang's long-suffering wife, a woman infinitely more intelligent and conniving than her husband.Her slightly unhinged nature, tired eyes and moodiness make her menacing and pitiable. Polanski, a director equally famous for his life in front of the camera, edited the film in a prison cell, and at times it shows. For those who like their thrillers to reveal themselves slowly but surely the clumsy disclosing of the secrets will be a let down, and while the climax of the film may fall short the tangible feeling of all being revealed, it is still worth the wait. Emily Kate Bater
7.
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film
Cemetery Junction Dirs: Ricky Gervais & Stephen Merchant Cast: Christian Cooke, Tom Hughes, Ralph Fiennes
C
emetery Junction follows the trials and misadventures of aspirational Freddie (Cooke), rebel without a cause Bruce (Hughes) and slowwitted Snork (Jack Doolan) as they booze, brawl and bond in the townscape of 1970s Reading, all the while pondering exactly what to do with their lives. Ricky Gervais's creative output post-The Office and Extras has ranged from the lukewarm (Ghost Town), to the lazily-contrived (Stardust) and the utterly abominable (The Invention of Lying). His mortality proven, the danger of him becoming a shallow caricature of his former self was now all too real prospect. Thankfully, Cemetery Junction has reversed this downward spiral, capping a welcome return to form with a
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story that is by turns hilarious, bleak, yet ultimately hopeful. What made The Office such a success, obviously aside from being very funny, was the sense of stark reality; everybody knew a David Brent or a Gareth Keenan. Here, a similar sense of familiarity is prevalent, although this time the very real essence of human tragedy lingers throughout. From the heart-breaking moment where Freddie's boss Mr Kendrick (a coldly efficient turn from Ralph Fiennes) completely ignores his wife (Emily Watson) while she dutifully pours him a cup of tea, to a life assurance salesman's career legacy being summed up by a fruitbowl presented to him at his retirement dinner. This is the blackest comedy Gervais and Merchant have been involved in, and their ambition is admirable.
''by turns hilarious and bleak, yet still hopeful." The only problem with stark reality is that if done improperly, it can easily become bland. Thankfully, the mostly likeable turns from the young
leads prevent this from happening. Cooke puts in a solid performance as the leading man and fulcrum of the story, a young man at odds with his thirst for success and newfound curiosity for the world inspired by a chance meeting with childhood dalliance Julie (Felicity Jones). It is Tom Hughes though who steals the show as damaged goods Bruce, wearing his charisma on his leather jacket as he hides his issues behind a near-constant output of alpha male bravado. Gervais's screentime is limited to a supporting role as Freddie's dad, whilst Matthew Goode (of A Single Man and Watchmen fame) is suitably slimy as Freddie's fellow assurance worker and fiancee to Julie. The only weak point is Tom Doolan's Snork, who although innocent and well-meaning, simply comes across as too stupid to be believable. Some may feel that this doesn't delve deep enough to be an effective critique, although to do so would be to risk detracting from the message of wilful optimism that is prevalent throughout. Those looking for dark and gritty will be better off with Shane Meadows or Andrea Arnold. Alternatively, watch this, the British American Graffiti. Steve Wright
8.
film
Youth and Young Manhood
Steve Wright takes a look at other films that celebrate the virtues of growing up disgracefully... American Graffiti A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, George Lucas used to direct character-driven yarns, devoid of CGI and midichlorians. I shit you not. With not a blue screen or a Jar Jar-fucking-Binks in sight, Graffiti details the various escapades of a group of friends as they spend one final night in their home town, cue all sorts of mayhem. More than anything else, it exquisitely captures the burgoening feeling of disillusionment, disassociation and latent nostalgia that ensues the older the night grows, with any lingering feelings of regret or unspoken thoughts being let loose with a vengeance. With early roles for Harrison Ford and Richard Dreyfuss, this has become cult classic, as well as providing inspiration in years to come for the likes of Animal House, Ferris Bueller's Day Off and American Pie.
Stand By Me Perhaps the definitive cinematic rites of passage tale, expectations were always going to be high, with Stephen King being adapted by Rob Reiner, but even so the result was something extraordinary. The undercurrent of human tragedy that purveyed the child actors in this tale was rendered all the more poignant by the death of River Phoenix and the much-publicised, erratic private life of Corey Feldman. Put this all to one side however, and we are still left with a story that firmly extols the virtues of friendship and rues the inevitable loss of innocence that comes with growing up, whilst unabashedly sugarcoating nothing.
Superbad Look past the penis gags and gross-out moments, and you will find a story with a very sentimental and human heart at its core. Much like American Graffiti, this takes the teen protagonists through a wild final night as they (try) to party and avoid the cops, who themselves are re-living their youth, taking uber geek 'McLovin' along for the ride. This was unashamedly less po-faced than its predecessors, although it still possesses a hefty emotional wallop when needed, especially in the final shot where Michael Cera and Jonah Hill's characters go their separate ways. Like any film about growing up, their future prospects are left unclear, but isn't that the point?
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film
BEST FILM FOR...
Wishing you were Cary Grant
4 AM Viewing
An Affair to Remember (1957)
Y Tu Mama Tambien (2000)
Once (2006)
U
f you haven’t seen this film (at any time of day or night), you’re missing out. It’s often billed as a road movie, but it’s so much more than that. Gael Garcia Bernal and Diego Luna play Julio and Tenoch, two teenage layabouts who take a shine to Luisa (Maribel Verdu), an older woman who just happens to be married to Tenoch’s obnoxious cousin. Both lads are enamoured with casual sex, beer and weed and, yes, are regularly indulged. Sounds pretty standard, right? Wrong. This is no Road Trip. It's easy viewing, yet deals directly with socio-economic and political problems, as well as Julio and Tenoch’s wildly different backgrounds. The sex’n’drugs may be fun, but there are always repercussions. And can it really be just a ‘road movie’ when the leading hot lady happens to have a terrible secret? Luisa’s final scene, swimming in the Pacific, should be schmaltzy but it isn’t. Scenes are interspersed with dry, laconic Spanish narration. There are lots of funny moments, such as when pigs destroy their camp, but even then the narrator is back, informing us that those pesky swine were later cooked and eaten, causing food poisoning. Judd Apatow it ain’t. It’s moving, though-provoking, and will make you want to go travelling. This film could never be made by Hollywood, and that makes it just that little bit more special. Go on, stick it on after a night out. Greg A. Rees
I
ade for little over £100,000 and shot in 17 days, Once is described as a modern day musical set in Dublin, but it's so much more than that. For a start, there's no bursting spontaneously into song; they come to fruition in front of us, and are all the more enchanting for it. The two leads are played by singers Glen Hansard from Irish band The Frames and Marketa Irglova, who’s charismatic partnership and sweet naïve attraction was founded on a real life friendship which developed into more during filming. Hansard plays The Guy, a busker turned pessimistic by failed life and love. He meets The Girl, a Czech immigrant in Dublin in search of a better life. It seems slightly ludicrous to heap praise on a film where the climax is the two leads making a demo, but Irglova’s quiet strength and Hansard’s shuffling sincerity give Once a heart-wrenching sweetness. We see the two of them carefully circle each other, just looking for a kindred spirit to escape from lives of disappointment and responsibility. Both leads have said they have no plans to act again, which would be a shame if they hadn’t since released stunning albums like The Swell Season. The soundtrack stands alone as a gorgeous collection of songs, especially the Oscar winning Falling Slowly, a song who’s story of strangers falling in love and saving each other from the brink sums up the film to near perfection. Emily Kate Bater
pon being told by an interviewer, 'Everybody would like to be Cary Grant,' Grant is alleged to have replied, 'So would I.' A leading man in every sense of the word, Grant was a Hollywood stalwart for almost 40 years. In this, one of his later and greater films, Grant plays the New York playboy Nickie Ferrante, a man who has never worked a day in his life. He meets Deborah Kerr on a cruise liner, and though she tries to resist his charms, they both fall for each other in typical rom-com stylie. But this just isn’t your typical rom-com. It’s cutting and witty, with modern commentary on the things men and women will do for money. Grant’s suave, debonair, elegant, refined, charming, well-groomed, urbane, cultured, dashing, cultivated rogue (I own a thesaurus, sue me) gives the film that extra bit of sparkle, but Kerr is an equal match. Both go home to respective loves, but they agree to meet in six months on the Empire State Building to see if they can be together. The twist and all that follows is famous, and has been referenced in other not-half-asgood films like Sleepless in Seattle. Basically, watch this film for Cary Grant. Is it wrong to fancy someone born almost ninety years before you? I don’t care. The only negative thing is the singing kids. Watch it and you‘ll know what I mean. They creep me out. Emily Kate Bater
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Discovering your favourite
new songs
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