TRINITYNEWSTWO 1
Competition: €115 hamper to be won inside, see Fashion p15
“I had Germans in my trees”
The Hoff
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Exclusive interview with
Oliver Stone Director of
World Trade Centre p11
ISSUE
Inside: the Goo Goo Dolls talk to Andrew Payne
In this issue
Welcome to this year’s new TNT. Now firmly an entertainment supplement, we’re the fun ones in the Trinity News office. In TNT this year you will find Music, Film, Theatre, Fashion, Food, TV, and of course Sex.
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Poscard: Sam Tierney writes from neon Tokyo Interview: David Hasselhoff talks to Jonny Drennan Audiofiles: The Goo Goo Dolls impress Andrew Payne Audiofiles: Sparklehorse, M. Ward and The Thermals are all reviewed P6 Audiofiles: Emerging talent Ann Scott talks to ? P7 Audiofiles: Píosa beag as gaeilge faoin grupa as aimn Director In this the first issue we’ve P8 Backstage: Mother Courage reviewd on Broadway gone all outto get you the best celebrity interviews. So you P9 Backstage: The success of Stones in His Pockets will findwors of wisdom from P10 Coverstory: Oliver Stone gives an exclusive interview the Hoff, insights from Oliver to our own Sarah Moriarty Stone and reflections fromthe P12 Silverscreen: Children of Men shows little reason for Goo Goo Dolls. As well as that hope we have the Blizzards and emerging Irish talent Ann Scott. P13 Silverscreen: World Trade Centre and Brick reviewed P14 High Style: Kerrie Forde disects London Fashion Week So enjoy it all and rememP16 Food&Drink: Surviving eating at College berwe are always looking P17 Food&Drink: Dublin restaurant fornew contributorsand ideas. P18 SexLives: Sarah Moriarty on love by the SEine Don’t be shy! P19 TV: The Sopranos series is mourned by Darren Regards, Kennedy Ed. P20 Endnotes: Joey Facer talks to theBlizzards ---Hello my most super duper most exquisitely poised readers... It seems I shall fill the role of foreign correspondent for our fine Trinity News for this issue and I hope I can try and successfully fill that hallowed posting.Oh and what a tale there is to tell from here dear readers. Settle yourselves in a nice comfy arm chair. Perhaps one of those fine couches in the Phil, or if your unlucky maybe distracting yourself from an early lecture… Anyhow, wherever you are I shall try and fill you in on life and times in Tokyo. Ahhhhhhhhhsooooooo... Yeah they really say these things here. I am in this most odd place of the world that is this university in Tokyo. I am called Sam-san here by the way and my teachers are all indeed called sensei’s. Tokyo is one of the strangest, most different, funniest and most original places I have ever seen. Think of all the anticipations you could possibly have of this place and then add well anything you could think of for weirdness in our fair world and then make communication completely impossible and then turn all the crazy dials to11 and God I can’t describe... its bonkers and amazing. Whole districts, I’d liken to Times Square in New York. Think huge neon and video screens on every building in areas probably bout the size of all of central Dublin. Full of about a gazillion people and shops selling absolutely everything you could ever want. Every city needs areas such as these. I have always felt that Dublin needed to have a handy shop for selling personal bucking bronco machines and a 12-floor department store that only sells stationary and diamonds. I feel this place is perhaps one of the greatest places in the world for the fine art of faffing. Getting lost in most interesting ways gains new value in a city that is crammed full to the brim everywhere, with incredible and surprising sights and streets wind and weave like the paths of a labyrinth. Studying, unfortunately has also gotta happen a bit. It is most superbly intense. I start every morn at 9 and then go on all day. I have about 40hrs lectures a week at least, very differing from the pleasant world of an arts style timetable I usually follow. Also this weird thing called homework and the sensei’s checking to make sure you are there?? Very strange sort of stuff indeed. However this style of learning leads to very fast results and I don’t believe I’ve ever learnt a new subject quicker than I’ve learnt Japanese here. I’m living here in an international dorm. I’m here with two other Trinity students and there are loads of Americans and also lots of random Europeans floating in our dorm, the most exciting news is that I share a room with a fantastic Japanese fellow call Higuru, he can’t really speak much English at all, but our hand signal conversations are very entertaining. Wow ok well I suppose my article must now reach its conclusion. Its sort of been fun telling u all about Tokyo and I’m sure I shall have some very strange tales to regale u with in future times. Whether you’re a Fresher or not I hope you are stupendously enjoying the first week back and are all super well and happy. Goodbye and sionara or doomo (between friends) to you all. Sam
POSTCARD
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Editor’s Notes
Tokyo Japan N A P A J
Words: J o n n y D r e n n a n
David Hasselhoff is an unqualified success story, yet nobody is really sure why. He revels in making self-deprecating jokes, he helped to reunite Germany and he was the star of ‘Baywatch’ and ‘Knightrider’. Impressive credentials certainly, but it’s the internet that has made him the global phenomenon of today. Students and secretaries catapulted a faded celebrity formely known for bouffant hairstyles into one of the highest earners in contemporary Hollywood. I have been told to interview Hasselhoff on his arrival at
lot of time fighting over religion, and you managed to censor Baywatch, that seems a bit weird to me”. Predictably, questioning turns to the two shows that initially helped launch G e r m a n y ’ s favourite greatgrandson into the celebrity strato-
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The scariest thing I had was some Germans who were living in my trees.
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the Phil for their opening session on an otherwise quiet Saturday afternoon before Freshers’ Week. My phone is soon busy; requests for autographs, photos and special questions all arrive in the inbox. I’m still at a loss as to the fuss as I take my seat beside two Northern Irish fans of the Hoff who have been looking forward to seeing the great man for weeks. The Hoff has been in trouble with the tabloids; rumours of a drunken chat show appearance help to cause stress amongst the gathered audience that he will be in bad humour. Their fears prove groundless: Hasselhoff bounds into the GMB with all the energy of Michael Knight and his pomp to a deafening standing ovation. Dressed in an open shirt proudly displaying a crucifix, and a good deal of chest hair, the Hoff seemed initially incredulous about Irish customs. “You guys spend a
sphere. He says, “I got the role of Michel Knight for a spiritual reason, I miss Knightrider a lot. I want to bring it back for another four years, I even have the ringtone on my phone.” Many of the gathered audience had spent countless idle Saturday afternoons as prepubescent children dreaming of being rescued by Pamela Anderson, or the Hoff himself. His views on Baywatch are surprising, expressing his feeling that it got ‘a little fluffy’ at times. And what about the famed Baywatch theme song complete with iconic montages? “The Baywatch montages basically happened because we had no money.” Hasselhoff’s favourite part of the show was designed to appeal to the men in the audience: “I loved it because it was always cold.”
stantly aware of his personal assistant pointing at her Rolex, interview over.
INTERVIEW
David Hasselhoff
An open questioning session helps to placate some of Hasslehoff’s most rabid Trinity fanbase. A song is requested, but a t-shirt with ‘Don’t Hassle the Hoff’ is soon displayed by Hoff. It would be expected that most if not all of the gathered audience are there to witness a burgeoning cult star, nothing more and certainly nothing less. However, genuine fans of the Hoff’s notoriously bad music were to be found. An audience member enquired, “I really love your early music but the problem is I can’t buy it anywhere-do you know where I can get it?” The Hasselhoff response is refreshing: “You don’t really want to go near that stuff.” After sitting through an enjoyable hour in the GMB, TNT has been offered a quick personal interview with Hasselhoff himself. Dodging the minefield of Hasselhoff’s publicists, I get ready to delve into the deep issues of the Hoff’s life, public and private. I should be awed, but my main difficulty is that every conceivable question has been asked already. Strangely, the first thing that comes into my mind is the Hoff’s political aspirations. “I don’t want to do politics. I think I’d be really good at motivational speaking, I’ve made a lot of mistakes people could learn from.” Quite. Predictably, Hasselhoff claims to be oblivious about the cult of the Hoff. “This fame thing is crazy, some Germans will follow me to every performance. I can’t believe it at all. The scariest thing I had was some Germans who were living in my trees.” Speaking to Hasselhoff, I am con
Hasselhoff is a work of contrasts. He tells the audience he would love to be like Laurence Olivier, and his ambitions are to succeed in serious theatre or even go back to college. This seems highly unlikely for a man who kick-started his flagging career with the Spongebob Square Pants movie. However, it is really difficult to dislike Hasselhoff. He is an incredible self-publicist who seems genuinely enthused with life. Riding the rollercoaster of celebrity relying solely on a bad singing voice and charm, he has created a following like few others. Judging by the reception he received in the GMB, it appears the Hoff isn’t going to go quietly anytime soon.
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Goo Goo Ga Ga Words: A n d r e w P a y n e
AUDIOFILES
Most Irish people’s knowledge of the Goo Goo Dolls probably starts and ends in the same place – the song Iris. It will probably come as a surprise to learn then that the band has in fact been around for twenty years after starting up in Buffalo, New York in 1986. Speaking to Trinity News ahead of the band’s Olympia date on 18 October, bassist and founding member of the band Robby Takac reflects back on relinquishing vocal duties, the near break up that followed the release of their last record, and coming to Ireland. When the band first started out they played in New York’s ‘trendy’ venues of Maxwell’s and CGBG’s. Through constant touring with bands such as the Replacements, Soul Asylum, and Gun Club the band slowly moved up through smaller record deals to eventually arriving at Warner Brothers where they released the album Superstar Car Wash. Through this time Robby himself was the lead vocalist on most of the band’s songs. As he explains, “That kind of came about by default. We were just a bunch of friends making music. We changed as people and musically the band grew. The singing changed as the band changed. It made sense for Johnny [Rzeznik, guitarist and current lead vocalist] to sing more and that’s what happened”. Rzeznik was to sing the band’s now signature tune Iris, one of the soaring classics of ‘90s radio. The song, which catapulted the band to international fame after appearing on the City of Angels soundtrack, may be seen as a classic by many but some fans have been less than impressed with a recent cover by Ronan Keating. Robby’s own view on the former Boyzone singer’s efforts? “Honestly I haven’t heard it. But that isn’t to say I haven’t heard any of the reaction! I’ve had 21,000 letters on my myspace page talking about it. Lots of them are
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Coming back from the break I feel we have more room to cover. I think if these things had happened in a marriage it would normally end up in divorce!
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favourable and a lot again are unfavourable”. Following the album Dizzy up the Girl, on which Iris featured, the band released a compilation record which did not contain the famous tune, entitled Ego, Opinion, Art and Commerce. Takac insists that this was not a case of trying to fight the shadow of the song, rather “Ego was not released as a best of. It was more of a ‘maybe you missed this’ record. In the US we’re had 16 or 17 songs in the top 20 including Iris and we wanted to release a record without putting any of those on. It was a representation of what people didn’t know, giving them another chance to see what we had”. Next up was the record Gutterflower. Following that album Takac admits thinking that the band had run its course, “Back then I wouldn’t have said there was much more for the band to do. After Gutterflower it felt like the band was in a rut. Instead I went off and started producing for other bands. I have my own label which mainly features other bands from Buffalo, and I really enjoy producing. But over that time I realised that something really did happen over the 20
Goo Goo Dolls bassist Robby Takac years, something special. As volatile and crazy and manically happy and sad as the journey and relationship has been, it works. Coming back from the break I feel we have more room to cover, the band can continue to grow and we’ve got out of that rut. I think if these things had happened in a marriage it would normally end up in divorce!” That new enthusiasm has led to new energy to keep on touring. Having never played in Ireland before, the band played Dublin just 3 months ago. Takac had one word to describe the night: “Awesome. We played with the Editors on the night and loved Dublin. We’d somehow never got over to you guys before. We’d heard that Iris was huge but for various reasons we never made it over. The record company would send us to Paris instead and they’d hate us! So it was good to get over, for me personally particularly. Half of my family is Irish-American and I’d never been to Ireland before so that was great. The crowd were really awesome too and we had to come right back”. Along with the two trips to Dublin in European tours the band have toured the US extensively over the year, “We started out by doing 6 weeks of clubs to only 50 or 60 people. That was a lot of fun and something we hadn’t done for a long time. We then went on a bigger tour with the Counting Crows. We’ve done 35 dates on that and have another 5 left. After we’re finished in Europe we’re going to keep going and tour through to next summer, out on the road another year. We’re going to take in Australia and New Zealand then hopefully get back over to you guys again before the
tour is out. I’ve a feeling we will.” After twenty years in the music business, through constant fashions for various styles, have the Goo Goo Dolls’ main musical influences changed? “To be honest I’m not listening to music for influence. What’s important to me when I’m making a record is what’s the next step for the Goos? We’ve been putting out records for twenty years, that’s twenty years of reviews. In that twenty years an awful lot has changed. We’ve changed as people and our music has changed with that. We don’t want to work out of a box but don’t want to get stuck in one. I think that we had started to get stuck in the box with Gutterflower but we’ve broken out of it now with Let Love In [the band’s current record]. When you’re stuck in the box you can be uncomfortable there but you can be terrified of what will happen when you step out. I’ve been terrified but it felt so good to step out of it. We’ve stepped out with confidence and I think the Goos best days are ahead”. Into the future then can we expect more growth? “The band’s definitely going to keep growing. I had always written my own songs straight away but now for the first time in years we’re sitting in a room together making music. In the past it’s sometimes been more a case of going into the studio and trying to put the songs together and make them work there. Instead I’m working with Johnny and we’re making the songs between the two of us. There’s a bit of a disparity in our styles and when we collaborate it can help that we’re coming from different places but putting them together. There’s much more good to come”.
Post-War M. Ward
The Body, the Blood, the Machine The Thermals
Dreamt for Light Years in the Belly of a Mountain Sparklehorse
Matt Ward, under his stage name M Ward, has been cropping up everywhere recently. From guesting on Cat Power and Beth Orton records, to co-producing Jenny Lewis’ solo effort, Rabbit Fur Coat and sharing the bill with R.E.M, Bruce Springsteen on the Vote for Change Tour, the folked-up singer-songwriter has also made time for collaborations with indie favourites My Morning Jacket and Bright Eyes. Post-War sees Ward follow up 2005’s Transistor Radio with a collection of songs more focused and ambitious than previous records, whilst still retaining the intimacy of the earlier albums. For those unfamiliar with Ward, it’ll come as a surprise to learn that the rasping bluesy Louis Armstrong-esque vocals aren’t a product of the Deep South; Ward is from California, but the voice, along with the music ranging from the folk guitar influences of John Fahey to Neil Young-style country rock creates a certain nostalgic, timeless quality, conjuring up ghosts of some imagined American past. Post-War is more of a band record than previous albums, and the wider instrumentation, along with a heavily reverbed production, makes songs like Poison Cup and Right in the Head sound woozy and wistful; perfect night-time listening. Despite the album title, none of the songs contain any overt political sermonizing. Instead Ward is attempting to establish a mood in the subtext of the songs, dealing with love, loss, and regeneration. “War is too important to be left to the generals,” Georges Clemenceau famously said upon becoming the French premier in 1917. However, on Post-War Ward is concerned with the role of the songwriter in the aftermath of a conflict. Saying of the period following the secondworld war, “I had the naive, simplistic idea that producers and writers and artists of the time helped in a miniscule way to change the mind-set of America”, Ward is detailing his own objective in the here and now. With stand-out tracks like the outstanding Chinese Translation and the Daniel Johnston cover To Go Home, featuring the vocal talents of Neko Case, Ward has managed to make a record of intensely personal songs, whilst still striving for a bigger cultural message between the lines. Melancholic but ultimately hopeful, Post-War takes what should be a wake and turns it into a celebration. SC
Portland’s The Thermals have skirted the borders of public attention since their formation in 2002, just managing to elude mainstream success with the raucous indie-hit No Culture Icons a few years back. Infamous for their “no-fi” approach to recording, the band first two albums were chaotic poppunk worthy of vintage Ramones; the sound of irreverent youth on the cheapest guitars and amps possible. Needless to say, both albums were fantastic. The Body, The Blood, The Machine is the band’s third album, but a lot has changed in the Thermal’s camp since 2004’s Fuckin A. Drummer Jordan Hudson left last year to join M Ward’s band, leaving bassist Kathy Foster taking over all the rhythm section duties. The band has also switched producers from Chris Walla (guitarist for Death Cab for Cutie) to Fugazi’s Brenden Canty. Perhaps for these reasons The Body, the Blood, the Machine is a degree less frantic than the previous albums. Another unusual thing is that, for a band with such a marked punk rock aesthetic, The Body, the Blood, the Machine is a concept album of sorts, charting an individual’s reaction to a totalitarian theocracy, and serving as a commentary on the rising Christian fundamentalism in the United States. Thankfully however, the Thermals manage to avoid all the pretension and excesses of the format, sticking to immediate, emotive 3–minute bursts of simultaneously discordant and melodic noise. The sound is also brighter, less dirty, with even some (minor) keyboard and organ embellishments, something unheard of previously. However, the sound is still unashamedly lo-fi; even if the album is undoubtedly more ambitious, both lyrically and musically, they’ve still retained all the elements that made the Thermals great in the first place- distorted guitars, driving bass-lines and yelping, impassioned vocals. In other words, joyous distorted pop tunes. From the church organ intro of Here’s Your Future to the ridiculously uptempo Power Doesn’t Run on Nothing the Thermals are pretty much impossible to ignore. The Body, the Blood, the Machine sounds like the Undertones attempting to score Orwell’s 1984. Get this album. And then catch their November gig in the Voodoo Lounge. I’ll be the guy po-going, front row centre. SC
Latest offering from country-folk singer-songwriter features cameo performances from Howe Gelb, Jim James and Neko Case.
Oregon post-punk-pop duo release third albums. It rocks.
AUDIOFILES
InReview:
Once upon a time (in the late nineties) my brother gave me a copy of this bizarre CD with a blurry (and scary) clown’s head on the cover, with the ludicrous title Vivadixiesubmarinetransmissionplot. The sixteen tracks ranged from whispery acoustic laments to fuzzed-up electric rock tunes, so lo-fi that you felt you were actually in this guy’s basement, and so eccentric that you didn’t know if you really wanted to be there. The CD was Mark Linkous’s first record, released under the name Sparklehorse; his intention was to make “a kind of pop equivalent to Tom Wait's Swordfishtrombone.” For a long time Vivadixie was my favourite album. However, it’s been a full five years since the last Sparklehorse full-length, It’s a Wonderful Life and the scene Linkous found himself drawn into- the psychedelic folk-rock of the Flaming Lips, Mercury Rev, Grandaddy et al.- has pretty much disintegrated since then. Grandaddy has called it a day, the Flaming Lips have descended into self-help book schmaltz, and Mercury Rev, whilst still releasing good albums, have been treading water to some extent. The entire genre seems bankrupted, running on empty. So where does this leave Sparklehorse? The new album has certainly not been an easy or organic production, due to creative and personal problems. Not boding well, two of the tracks have been previously released, Morning Hollow as a hidden track on the preceding full-length, whilst the title track had appeared under a different name as a b-side. Despite this, there are many rewarding songs on the album, particularly the entirely self produced Shade and Honey and Some Sweet Day. The Dangermouse-assisted Getting It Wrong, with its insect-like vocals also recalls early Sparklehorse and is one of the stand-out tracks. Elsewhere, the huge cosmic soundscapes trademarked by wunderkind-producer Dave Fridmann are unmistakable (despite a lesser role than on the previous album), but these only seem to work against the simple fragility of Linkous’s songs. Dreamt for Light Years in the Belly of a Mountain is a worthwhile album, but it’s hard to avoid the impression that the questionable fidelity of the early days was a better showcase for Sparklehorse’s music than the soft-focus fuzz vortex of this record. As it is, there’s nothing on this record that Sparklehorse hasn’t done before, and it’s just really nothing new. SC Enigmatic recluse releases first new album in five years.
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AUDIOFILES
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Emerging Irish talent Ann Scott Nominated in the best female category for the 2005 Irish Meteor Awards, Ann Scott has developed a reputation as an intense performer and firebrand songwriter. Her debut album ‘Poor Horse’ was voted into the Hotpress musicians' poll of Ireland's top 100 albums ever. Her recently released second album ‘We’re Smiling’ has been given equally flattering reviews by the music press and fans alike. Ann Scott took time out of her busy tour schedule to tell us more. So Ann, the photography and artwork on the album is interesting. How did those ideas come about? Well we spent ages taking them. I wanted to get this mirror image so that they’re not just me in the photograph because there are themes of duality and things in parallel running throughout the album. Also, I wanted it to work with the title “We’re Smiling” because there’s only one person yet there’s two images. It’s a bit like Yin and Yang I guess but its
still one person as such. Its like Gollum from Lord of the Rings. That’s in some of the songs too – there’s a double sided slant to them. Your voice changes for different songs. I think my favourite voice at the moment is mountain – disaffected and mildly sedated. Then the voice on For a Dream is more spiteful and loose. Does that make sense to you? Yeah sure… I think you get in a different mood and when you’re singing different lyrics, songs and melodies - everybody does it differently as we know from all the cover versions that are around - I don’t think the lyrics necessarily dictate the way you’re going to sing them but everyone interprets them differently so that’s going to happen. It’s good that that happens. I mean… I’m kind of glad that you think that! It’s funny what they say about voices – how they say chest voice and head voice. I think it’s sometimes easier to get
Great Scott Words: S t e p h e n S h a n n o n
8 Courage
Under Fire Words: P a u l E a r l i e
BACKSTAGE
Central Park is not pretty at six o’clock in the morning. As you grope your way through thickets of thorny plants and bushes under an ominous, ink-blue sky, you’ll find yourself unable to appreciate this botanical miracle of modern urban development. The thunderous rain won’t help much either. Yet you struggle on, ignoring the dampness of your socks, the chattering of your teeth; you fight to rescue some kind of warmth from your already failing cup of coffee. And all this for a play. Just one play. But such is the deep-seated enthusiasm of New York theatre-goers that they’ll endure pretty much anything in order to lay their hands on a pair of the hottest tickets in town. So what’s all the fuss about? Meryl Streep, for one reason. Brecht’s masterful “Mother Courage and Her Children” for another. Still not satisfied? How about a brand-spankingly new liberal translation by that Olympian of the American Left, Tony Kushner, whose mammoth Pulitzer Prize-winning “Angels in America” even nowadays just won’t seem to go away. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t endure swarms of insects and rivers of mud just to garner a glimpse at the unassailably brilliant Meryl Streep, darling child of the Academy and unrivalled Queen of the Oscars. Well I did. And boy am I glad. Not that Streep had it easy. Routinely branded “the female King Lear”, the role of Mother Courage demands more than the usual amount of dedication and grit from an actress: a strong, confident singing voice, physical dexterity and strength, dramatic expertise and honed comic timing, a certain largess of personality and an ability to dom-
inate the stage without fear of suffocating the audience. Five minutes of the performance was enough to relieve my fears and convince me that Streep had more than enough gusto to pull off the plucky capitalist who is quite rightly Brecht’s most iconic creation. Exploding onto the stage mid-song with a cry of “RETAIL!”, Streep’s volcanic energy and vitality never let up for the entire three-hour-plus show. Mother Courage hasn’t stayed alive this long by resting on her laurels, as Streep confirms by staying almost permanently on the balls of her feet, swinging from one side of the stage to the other in a frantic dance of motherhood, recalling Nora’s desperate tarantella in Ibsen’s “A Doll’s House”. All the familiar Streepisms are here: the dismissive hand gestures, the emotionallycharged silences, the frequent,
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The entire piece is a testament to the power of theatre
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punctuating nose-wipings, and the trademark twitching of an index finger behind her ear. Unsurprisingly, Streep adds a whole new array of architecturally-perfect mannerisms to the delicate structurality of Mother Courage, including various unscripted “Yeah”s and the pointed jiggling of her two purses, which hang like testicles from her belt. What’s most remarkable about Streep’s performance is that these mannerisms never
Playwright Bertolt Brecht appear as mere mannerisms, but cohere so perfectly into the character of Mother Courage that they serve only to buoy her representation along, rather than reveal it for what it is: an ingenious illusion. Her singing voice is unexpectedly powerful, from one of Brecht’s finest musical pieces, “The Song of the Great Capitulation” to the final, animalistic keening over her mute daughter’s body. If not sublime, Streep proves nevertheless that her voice could hold its own among a constellation of Broadway musical stars. Kevin Kline, too, gets a chance to exercise his voice box. He’s here once again paired with Streep - he played her doomed lover in Sophie’s Choice and Trigonr to Streep’s Arkadina in the 2001 production of “The Seagull” - as the incorrigible Army Cook. While his role isn’t as physically or emotionally demanding as the lead, Kline is nonetheless put through his paces. His rendering of the “Song of Solomon”, an inspirational hymn to human mediocrity, manages to jostle with the “Great Capitulation” for the most rousing musical achievement of the performance. Yet even at this moment, as the lights descend and Kline smears himself with dark make-up under his eyes and cheekbones and announces the scene in which he will leave his beloved Courage, he doesn’t manage to subdue Streep’s remarkable presence as she haunts the background of the stage, peering on with a rueful
and heart-breaking stillness. Tony Kushner’s translation, delighting in vulgarity and perhaps one-too-many double entendres, adds more than a little spice to Manheim’s flagging 1967 version. Brecht’s original dialogue is contemporized by Kushner with an almost scatological devotion to naturalism, his characters tossing off bullets of Mamet-like profanities, ultimately (and thankfully) redeemed by a kind of pared-back poeticism. Unabashedly a political artist, Kushner’s treatment of one of the great anti-war plays would not be complete without his usual mix of topicality and timelessness. He perhaps leans a little too heavily on the Iraq connection, with the result that the allusions become far too unsubtle to reward even the densest of audience members. As the love-struck Army Chaplain later remarks “It’s expensive, liberty, especially when you start exporting it to other countries.” And yet the entire piece is a testament to the power of theatre to set the public thinking. The chemistry between Streep and Kline certainly hasn’t cooled since Sophie’s Choice. Kushner’s translation gleams . The direction is controlled, allowing the production to stay faithful to the Brechtian ideal of an intellectually-engaged audience, while at the same time providing enough emotional stimulus to lodge a lump in your throat. The Public Theatre’s production of “Mother Courage” is political theatre at its best: ironic, shocking, but most importantly, sincere.
Words: D a v i d L y d o n
The Dublin Theatre Festival 2006 The Dublin Theatre Festival 2006 has just begun with many international theatre companies arriving in the city in what promises to be a feast of dramatic delights. We here at the Trinity News have made your life just that little bit easier by providing a full list of what is on, where it’s happening and which dates you can see it. For any further information or ticket booking serivescheck out the festival website www.dublintheatrefestival.com
conspicuous lack of scenery. There’s a large metallic box (on wheels) and a smaller box (not on wheels). This is the set. I’d heard of minimalism but this was something else entirely. Not having even the slightest clue as to what the show was about, I withheld my reservations and awaited the rising of the curtain. When it did, only two men (Simon Delaney and Hugh Lee) stood onstage, clearly acting against the imaginary film set on which their two characters were both working as extras. Far from a Ricky Gervais-esque insight into the world of the lowly extra, the play began to encompass other characters in the process of making the film (which, in case you were wondering, is yet another American-dominated Ireland-set romance - think “Far and Away”). The thing is though, all of the plot and humour of the play is carried by Delaney and Lee, who assume approximately ten different personas during the course of the show. This is quite an achievement in character acting, as the plot is as believable as a genuine film and the audience is easily lost
Hedda Gabler - Abbey Theatre - 29 Sep - 1 Oct Empress of India - Abbey Theatre 3 Oct - 14 Oct The Exonerated Liberty Hall Theatre - 29 Sep - 14 Oct Orestes - Olympia Theatre - 30 Sep - 7 Oct The Vacationers - Gaiety Theatre 3 Oct - 7 Oct Festen Gate Theatre - 28 Sep - 14 Oct The Syringa Tree - Olympia Theatre - 9 Oct - 14 Oct Came So Far For Beauty, (An Evening of Leonard Cohen Songs) - Point Theatre - 4 Oct - 5 Oct Emilia Galotti - Gaiety Theatre 12 Oct - 14 Oct The Bonefire - Project Arts Centre - 28 Sep - 14 Oct La Tempête - O’Reilly Theatre 3 Oct - 7 Oct Alice Trilogy - Peacock Theatre -
in the world of Kerry locals and American starlets. The essence of ‘Stones in His Pockets’ is the disbelief that has to be suspended (willingly, of course) in the scenarios presented: at several points the actors switch between two or three different characters by the simplest of gestures such as their body language or accents. The fact that I believed the entire situation, regardless of the empty stage, is a credit to the actors and directors, who have taken Marie Jones’ witty script and captured the audience’s imagination. Particular highlights included Lee’s portrayal o-f Aisling, the bimbo assistant director, and the excellent flashback scene where the characters remember their childhood and plan for their future, all done with such skill you’d be forgiven to think that the show has a cast of thousands waiting in the wings. For a play that relies so heavily on the quality of the acting, the Dublin production proved an enormous success, and when it inevitably returns to these shores, you’d be a fool to miss out.
BACKSTAGE
Stone the crows
“Stones in His Pockets” arrived back home in Dublin after four successful years in the West End, a critically acclaimed Broadway run and a sell out world tour. Not a bad premise to go and see a show on, especially a show that has now become something of legend within Irish theatrical circles. It was with great anticipation that I took my seat for one of the last performances of a show already held dear by the public and widely regarded as one of the most innovative pieces of theatre around. The first thing I noticed upon entering the Gaiety is the
6 Oct - 14 Oct Aalst - Project Arts Centre 2 Oct - 7 Oct Rattledanddisappeared O’Reilly Theatre 11 Oct 14 Oct Everyday - Samuel Beckett Theatre - 9 Oct - 14 Oct Product - Project Arts Centre - 10 Oct - 14 Oct Ute Lemper - Olympia Theatre 28 Sep - 28 Sep Cabaret Décadanse - Laughter Lounge - 2 Oct - 7 Oct Letting Go Of That Which You Most Ardently Desire Various Locations - 5 Oct - 8 Oct There’s a Rabbit in the Moon - The Ark - 30 Sep - 1 Oct Lifeboat - The Ark - 6 Oct - 11 Oct
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COVERSTORY
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Every
Words: S a r a h M o r i a r t y
T
hree-time Oscar winner Oliver Stone was celebrated by the University Philosophical Society last week with an honorary patronage from the society. The number of excited students and staff who turned up in the dining hall to pay their respects is a testament to the success of Oliver Stone and also to his importance as a filmmaker. I met with him in the GMB following the presentation of his award. However, unlike previous guests of the Phil, Stone was not content to stroll about languidly in the VIP room sipping on wine; rather he was enthusiastic about meeting the students- mingling with everyone, laughing with the lads and flirting with the ladies. Stone’s most surprising characteristic was his warmth - the way he leaned forward when he spoke and the sincerity with which he delivered every sentence. While talking to Stone, he confessed to me that he was utterly exhausted following the promotional tour for his new film World Trade Centre which is in cinemas in Ireland now- he has been to nine countries in twenty-two days, he revealed. The last thing he wanted to do was another interviewbut he graciously tolerated my questions nonetheless, even after a public grilling by respected journalist Miles Duncan. World Trade Centre focuses on the personal struggle of two police officers during the events of September 11th, 2001. According to Stone it is “based on a true story of human suffering and survival”. What struck me about Stone was the sadness with which he spoke about his films. He is intent on making “emotional, visceral films”. In World Trade Centre, he stresses that he aimed to explore the passage of life and discover why human beings survive. He defends the legitimacy of making a melodramatic film simply for the melodrama. When quizzed as to why he steered away from the politics of the situation- Stone claimed that as a humanitarian. His belief is that people react best to people, not to politics. In our world today, there is “too much politics, not enough heart”. Stone also claims that in relation to September 11th, we do not yet know the politics, thus he was not in a position to make an informed judgement on the event. With new evidence and information being released every day, with World Trade Centre he did not want to “look like a fool with egg on [his] face…” However, when dealing with such a politically charged historical event such as the September 11th attacks, it still seems bizarre to leave out all political references, especially for a filmmaker like Stone who has not shied away from political controversy in the past. Perhaps one could say that Stone felt that the mainstream Hollywood audience is not ready to accept the cold politics of 2001 attacks. Stone avoids controversy by making a melodramatic emotional
film which plucks the heartstrings of the viewers. But in the end, one wonders, in the annals of film history, what lasting resonance will it have? On his personal political stance, Stone appears rather light-hearted. When asked why he dropped out of Yale University not once but twice, Stone glibly replies, “Bush was there”. [Cue big laugh from the audience and Stone adding quietly, “Ahh this is anti-American time”.] Earlier on in the public interview when asked by one member of the floor who he would cast to play Bush in a film called “Bush”, Stone replied after a pause: “Will Ferrell”. Another crowd pleaser, however, he goes on to deny the fact that he is left-wing, as a grinning Miles Dungan suggests, rather he considers himself mainstream, or in his own words; “mainstream radical”. The implications of this oxymoronic label manifest themselves in Stone’s films and in his character as a whole. On the one hand he is a mainstream, bourgeois Hollywood filmmaker, yet on the other, he is a rebellious ex-soldier who is vehemently against the establishment. With World Trade Centre, Stone seems unable to find the balance between these two stances and thus choses to detach himself from the political reality of our time, instead cushioning himself in the comforting womb of shared human experience. Stone’s career has been a jarring ride from success to failure, and he speaks quite philosophically about his low points as a director; namely Alexander which was slated by critics as a sprawling mess of a film. Stone confesses that he regrets some decisions he made on Alexander. He wishes now he had had the guts to make the film longer claiming “sometimes more is more”. This self-awareness and humble admission of fault is a surprising trait in his character. He does not appear to be the stereotypical cocky and self-assured Oscar winning director. Rather he recognises the fact that he is fallible and like everyone else, he is still learning. He seems to be affected by scathing critics, yet he claims they have strengthened his character. For a filmmaker who seems preoccupied with strong masculine figures (see Nixon, JFK, Comandante and Alexander), Stone’s gentleness and fragility are unexpected. Stone’s final musings were on the role of the artist in everyday life. He claims that it is the artist’s job to “light the candle in the dark”, which he attempts to do in such films as World Trade Centre. He launches a pre-emptive strike on all possible critics- “how sad it is that it has gotten so dark that the light seems false to some people… what a shame”. This is the friendly, fatherly advice of the mainstream radical filmmaker. For us, the young student population, it seems reassuring that someone can give light in these increasingly dark times, but we must not forget that the darkness cannot be ignored, it too must be explored.
COVERSTORY
ybody must get stoned
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12 Think of the children
SILVERSCREEN
Words: J a s o n R o b i n s o n
There’s nothing quite so deplorable in movies than a good concept wasted. That is, a story just begging to be turned into a great movie only to be ripped to shreds in production. This is the case for many great scripts. Shane Black, once screenwriter hotshot of Hollywood, with credits such as “Lethal Weapon” and “The Long Kiss Goodnight” to his name, claims his stories never came out as they went in. Such is probably the case with Alfonso Cuarón’s new movie “Children of Men”. Based on a P.D. James novel, the story has a lot going for it: the year is 2027 and the world has turned into chaos. No children have been born for over 18 years and women are now infertile. Britain, the sole superpower on Earth has turned into a right-wing police state and the floods of immigrants arriving at its shores are sent to the ghettos that make up “Brixwell”. All in all, Britain of the 2020s is a pretty grim place. For the most part, Cuarón succeeds in showing us this. Within minutes of the opening credits, the film’s protagonist Theo (Clive Owen) is passing a shop when a bomb suddenly explodes inside. Who was responsible for this is unclear- it could have been Islamic extremists, one of the host of resistance groups that have emerged in Britain, or indeed, it could be the government merely seeking to terrorise its citizens. However from this point on, Cuarón’s visual flair stays intact, but his ability to control the content does not fair as well. Theo, the central character and sometime anti-hero of the movie, clearly enjoys the whiskey guzzling businessman he is representing; a man with little or no excitement in his life and little driving force within himself. His sole form of pleasure is going to see his reclusive, weedpeddling friend, Jasper, played by
Michael Caine. Both Caine and Owen are never really developed, and in the case of Caine, (*spoiler alert*), he is criminally underused and killed off quite quickly. However, if Caine’s screen time seems small, spare a thought for poor Julianne Moore. Playing activist and resistance group leader, Julian Taylor, not only is her role very near irrelevant, but Moore is given so little screen time, one wonders if she was somewhat embarrassed by her name appearing on the film’s poster. Any selfrespecting actor would be. It is this which undermines a lot of Cuarón’s movie; the linear path of the film is meant to offer cohesion, but only offers confusion. Although it is clear the Spanish director is deft with set-pieces and has his vision of a dilapidated, disillusioned Britain nailed, his focus on Owen from reluctant anti-hero to supposed saviour of mankind never really works. Theo is charged with transporting the world’s only pregnant woman, Kee, played by Claire Hope-Ashity, to the coast to find refuge with the “Human Project”, but apart from some impressive action sequences, the human element of the story doesn’t pack the punch it should do. Perhaps this is due to the fact that Theo is moving from set-piece to set-piece and his interaction with any other character than Kee, is minimal. Or maybe the director feels he has merely given us enough to go on: this is a world where the very sight of a child would leave people astonished and where all hope has, little by little, vanished. Avertisements for suicide pills are meant to show the viewer how depressed the British population has become, but by the end of the movie, the viewer is just
glad that it’s over and he no longer has to consider facilitating his own escape from this shocker. Added to this, the apparent shock at the end of the movie is ineffective. However, despite my above pessimism, the authoritarian Britain Cuarón presents is beautifully shot and incredibly believable. It is a shame that too many ideas are thrown at the viewer. References late on to Islamic extremism are irrelevant and by this stage the story has become too muddled for their full consideration. What should have been a heartfelt human story is a uneasy mix of genres- drama, thriller, action. It ain’t all that bad, but it could have been a lot better.
Clive Owens excels as the lead Theo
The
Final Cut November 17. That’s the day we’re all supposed to go crazy and rush to our local cinema, sit down with some popcorn and let a sigh of relief out when it becomes clear that not only is the new Bond movie, “Casino Royale”, better than expected, but that Daniel Craig is the best thing to happen to the series. Or so MGM/Sony hopes is the case anyway. Another year, another Bond movie comes into town, and for the first time, I find myself asking, “Do I care?” The nostalgia that goes with Bond is something ingrained from both our own childhoods and that of our parents. Connery, Moore and Brosnan: these guys made being a spy so very suave and cool; trained killers, but with looks to boot, as well as a host of inventive gadgets to murder the enemy with. Bond was always tongue in cheek, ruthless when he needed to be, but here was a guy who both men and women fell for. This year, with Brosnan finished up as Bond there has been fan furore over the choice of Daniel Craig, star of “Layer Cake” and “Munich”, as the new 007. Yes, Craig has blonde hair. And, yes, he may not quite be as handsome as Brosnan, or indeed as polished-looking as Clive Owen, erstwhile potential Bond candidate. These two things are, unfortunately, major criteria for any Bond. That said, even if Craig does put in a great performance, and I personally do not doubt that he will, and if “Casino Royale” is a good movie, which I doubt it will be, is Bond relevant anymore in a post Cold War era? Unfortunately, the answer, if we’re being honest, is no. Bond has no Cold War factor to rely on nowadays, and 007 will never be presented with, and never should be, the current issues of the 21st century: terrorism, fundamentalism and diplomacy. The last good Bond movie was “Goldeneye” and before that, God knows what (certainly not one of Timothy Dalton’s). Hopefully, “Casino Royale” flunks and Hollywood will start to learn, if it hasn’t already, that you can only count on a character’s nostalgia appeal to a point- after that people just
Stone cold on controversy Words: Jason Robinson
Oliver Stone avoiding controversy doesn’t happen very often. No matter what topic Stone chooses, there is ultimately a sting in the tale which lasts long after the final reel. So, when Stone decided to follow up his hugely risible “Alexander” with a film focusing on the events of September 11th, more than a tad of trepidation would have been warranted for those affected by the events of that tragic day. When trailers of “World Trade Center” were shown in New York cinemas some months before release, they were withdrawn as they were deemed too upsetting by some cinema goers. However, for those expecting some wild conspiracy theories from Stone, you will be disappointed there is no explicit indictment of the US administration, no claims of bombs blowing up the towers or any other such theories that have floated around since the attacks of five years ago. Indeed, in many ways, Stone’s movie is quite a conventional piece in
which the director hopes to hammer home his message of what he believes the day was really about: ordinary people working together in the face of great to insurmountable difficulties. In the opening scenes of “WTC”, Stone has one clear point for the viewer: September 11th began like any other day. We see people taking the subway, getting dressed for work, kissing their loved ones goodbye. When members of the Port Authority Police Dept. assemble for duty, they are given ordinary tasks like any other day. The warning level for the day is “Green”, but that soon becomes irrelevant. From the moment we see a plane’s shadow pass across a skyscraper, it is evident that these men will be faced with a now infamous task. For many, despite the fact that this is a true story and a powerful one at that, this whole premise sounds far too like a TV movie. And, in many ways, Stone’s movie does suffer from
DVD Review: Brick 110 mins
DVD Extras
Just like “Donnie Darko” in 2001, “Brick”, the feature-length debut from Rian Johnson, appeared to come out of nowhere. With minimal publicity and made on a $500,000 budget, word of mouth and a special jury prize for ‘originality of vision’ at Sundance ensured that Johnson’s movie got the attention it so richly deserved. Not only is this an intelligent and slick take on the noir genre, it is also one of the year’s best movies. By taking high school as his focus, Johnson turns many of the conventions of noir upside down and creates a rich story, but with High school
Student noir students as the gangsters and crooks in a small American town. Joseph Gordon Levitt, in a far cry from his days in “Third Rock from the Sun”, plays Brendan, a student angry at the world. When his ex-girlfriend, Emily (played by Emilie de Ravin) calls distressed one day asking for his help, he sets out to aid her. Soon, Emily is dead and Brendan is out to do all he can to find out who got her killed and why. Thus Brendan sets out to toy with other characters any way he can to get the infor-
being a story that focuses on two men trapped with little to do and little else to say. Despite constant switching back to each of the protagonists’ families, their wives and how they are coping, Stone’s movie is ultimately not as effective as “United 93”. Indeed the score throughout the movie pushes the patience; continually trying to point out the moments where we should recognise the enormity of the tasks at hand or the pressures people faced that day. Despite this, Stone is at least partly successful in creating a powerful human story out of September 11th. Despite the focus on Cage and Pena’s characters, whose polished performances never render them entirely likeable (Cage’s character rarely speaks and Pena’s rarely stops), it is the support characters of Scott Karnes and Chuck Sereika (played by Michael Shannon and Frank Whaley respectively) that are the real unsung heroes of the story. The pair of these are not firemen or police officers but 2 volunteers who come down to the Ground Zero on the day to help any way they can. It is these two people who ultimately encapsulate Stone’s final message- here is what America is really about: people coming together and helping each other because that’s what Americans, and all humans, should do. For many, Stone’s film seems like an over-long moralising tale. Everyone knows that being kind to your neighbour is the right thing to do. However, for others, his central message will ring clear in the midst of the death, destruction and haze of confusion that has ensued since that fateful day five years ago.
SILVERSCREEN
n’s o s n i ob R n o Jas
mation he needs. Levitt, on the cusp of stardom after stand out performances in “Manic” and “Mysterious Skin”, is not your typical anti-hero and from the offset seems unsuited to the role of the Brendan, a brooding mass of revenge. That said, this whole movie is about turning convention upside down, or as Johnson calls it in the commentary, “changing the visual cues” of the noir genre. There is little to fault in this movie. The language, at first somewhat confusing and strange, is something you learn to cherish by the end: it’s pointed, witty and so welcomingly fresh that you can’t help but wishing that we all spoke like this. The cast is faultless and the story, is actually confusing at times- which is a good thing. Johnson’s movie takes a while to get into, but as soon as you do you’ll be greatly rewarded. This is Johnson’s first movie and by the looks of it, he is definitely one to watch. Go rent or buy this movie now-you won’t be disappointed.
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14 London Fashion Week Words: K e r r i e F o r d e
HIGHSTYLE
I was tired after London Fashion Week simply because I had spent two days looking with fresh eyes. This was my first experience of a major fashion event and I consumed everything. I can report the fact that all security guards were dressed exclusively by George of Asda. Within my possession were four corporate tickets, meaning that entry to every show wasn’t necessarily guaranteed and notoriously difficult, but it made for more of a story, as we saw all that we had imagined beyond reach. At work, conversation over the fax machine seemed limited to concerns about what I would wear, but I was more preoccupied with deciding who I should bring, in the most shallow of ways. You don’t dress up at London Fashion Week- models do that- but somehow or another you need to look the part, because with or without the requisite tickets, there is that possibility of just gliding in. As fate would have it, we waltzed into Julien MacDonald’s star-studded show at the Hilton in Park lane, without the high profile invitations everyone else was clearly holding. Without uttering a word to the security guards, myself, ex-trinner Emma Sykes and two others fuelled by the pre-show ambiance, embraced the vibe and made it our own. It is testament to art historian John Berger’s argument ‘seeing comes before words…the child looks and recognises before it can speak’. The way you carry yourself makes a huge difference in life: that is why fashion is important. It can speak for you, personality being the most effective accessory to any outfit. Julien MacDonald’s show was everything that you would expect from someone who is currently making huge waves in Hollywood, with ultimate glamour and sensation. The colours were bright and striking; hot pink, violet and orange formed the backbone pallet. The fabrics were luxurious and the
dresses had a body to them which pinned the eyes. However there are two main designers who I feel particularly compelled to write about, Boru Aksu and Boy George’s collaborative label BRude. Boru Aksu On Friday morning I spent a good sixty seconds persuading my male friend to not wear his grey converses because at that moment in time they looked boring to me. Then Boru Aksu’s show begins with one of the dominant themes, which centered around the deconstruction of iconic baseball boot converse. What colour does the visualist use? Grey. I was memorized by the adaptation of the converse shoe into elegant corset belt: he just oozed cool with his genius work, to his demure appearance at the end. The show opened with a ballet pas de deux; I found this slightly cliché. It was meant to introduce the inspiration for his show which he drew from experience of working with the contemporary dance world. The clothes, embodied movement and stage presence so eclipsing, the entire room seemed to have been cast back to an age of romanticism, and I felt entirely in its grasp. B-Rude ( Boy George Mike Nicholls and Tim Perkins) There was something electric about the atmosphere filling the tent at the British History Museum prior to this show. Perhaps it was the promise that this really was going to be a ‘show’, the prelude provided by the general eccentricity of the audience. I can’t remember the first piece to hit the catwalk but I recall thinking initially that the work was uninspiring but the music was really good, starting with the national anthem followed predominantly by reggae. George’s label dates back to 2004 when he began making bespoke pieces for his friends. This was evident in the show which featured clothes covered in
Catwalk fever in London witty slogans and personalised jackets. The pieces were adorned with loud, crazy prints: smiley red sequinned crabs and little sperms being some examples. The inspiration for B-Rude’s collection was drawn from the youth culture of the 60’s and 70’s, with a strong anarchist theme played on by the models who threw fingers and
fists at the paparazzi. I admire the arrogance implied in his clothing, there is something brave about what B-rude and Boru Aksu alike are producing. George’s label is described as being ‘designed to examine new perspectives on human identity’ and ‘explore the limits which have been set by the fashion industry
Words: K e r r i e F o r d e
I met with the CEO of London’s largest courier fleet to discuss his plans to launch a clothes line. He takes fashion seriously, and I was wildly enthused by his confidence in the ability of clothing to carry the Addison Lee experience beyond the back of a vehicle. He starts by telling me ‘it’s all about branding’, and his ambitious entry into the world of fashion is under-pinned by confidence in his company’s urban appeal, both visually and logistically. Visually, the bold simplicity of its logo which emulates a sleek and sophisticated style maintained by Addison Lee at every level, whether it be their headquarters, the cars or their backseat magazine, ‘Ad-Lib’. Logistically, Addison Lee has strength in regulation and numbers. With over
1,400 vehicles on the road, moving with reputable speed and efficiency, a huge impression is constantly being made on the streets of London. However, focus on the face of the company veers towards an ignorance of the huge personality and life experience behind the man, and behind the label. I draw on this because inevitably it will make an imprint on the clothing. The most exciting couture fashion houses are the ones that have a history and a heritage behind them, almost a personality. Behind this new urban clothing is a passionate response to what, founder of the company, John Griffin believes fashion, should be. It was over a glass of red wine at the famous seafood
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would climb the length of the coat and finish above the mouth. I loved this idea of the high zip; it plays on the idea of comfort in your surroundings. It suggests a sort of self-control, by covering the mouth you allow yourself the choice of how much you want to expose to the outside world. I was interested in what Griffin had to say about fashion because I found his way of thinking fiercely refreshing, devoid of influence from a suffocating MTV youth culture. I think it is worth listening to someone who clearly has experience in interpreting the needs of society, then identifying a way to provide those needs and market them successfully. Griffin exercises a high level of perception concerning women and their physiques. Before we know it there will be a London based label edging its way onto the streets, thriving because it has found a niche in the market, and found a way to make clothes in the name of femininity and in the spirit of urban appeal. It will be Addison Lee London rather Addison Lee because Griffin wants to keep an exclusively London vibe. When I ventured into the Addison Lee headquarters I felt like there was a definite energy about the place, something effortlessly cool, and that is exactly how I feel about the brands name. ‘Addison’ because he wanted an up-market feel to the company, and his friend lived in squalor named ‘Addison Gardens’ which people assumed was posh because of the ring to it. ‘A’ because in 1975 ‘A’ put you on top of phone listings. Griffin clearly likes to be on top of his game, producing West-End musicals, managing Indie bands and now, with a clothes line.
HIGHSTYLE
New direction in ladies’ fashion
restaurant Morans on the Weir Co Galway that John Griffin first revealed his desire to launch a brave and radical campaign which would seek to redefine female fashion. ‘Women’ he argued, ‘have chosen to support trends which are really the worst ever designed in the history of fashion’. Where the average man might indulge in what can be described as a modern tendency for women to flaunt their assets, Griffin is communicating a disdain towards this way of dressing and a desire for redirection towards the concept of ‘femininity through clothing’. He takes the Jean Jacket as an example of ‘real crime’, protesting that it makes women look like ‘plumbers’. More importantly he argues, ‘it makes the backside look huge’. He introduces a statistical perspective, arguing that in this day-and-age women’s behinds are getting bigger than ever before and yet they are drawing attention to this. ‘Women’ he points out ‘are designed to store fat, in the history of the Hunter-Gatherer age if men failed to bring back food it was up to women to provide warmth and fend for the children. If you think about it, that wasn’t long ago’. Griffin introduces his personal philosophy into the conversation: ‘common sense rules the world’ and his clothes will be an endorsement of this idea. I enjoyed the privilege of being given access to a sample drawing of an Addison Lee garment and witnessed the realisation of his words. It was an intricate design of a jacket which accentuates the waist and yet covers the backside. It radiates femininity, yet screams urban cool because of Addison Lee branding. Griffin was adamant about one particular detail in his designs; the zip
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FOODDRINK
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Freshers’ Fare
Words: K e r r i e F o r d e a n d J o e y Facer
Waving goodbye to your mammy and daddy can be a hard thing for many a fresher. What’s harder is realising that for the first time, dinners won’t magically appear as the clock strikes six. All the student stereotypes of baked beans on toast go running through your mind as you unpack the boxes of kitchen utensils you didn’t even know existed. Realising that the lack of dishwasher means that you have to wash dishes yourself can bring a tear to the eye. Fear not however, there are ways of avoiding hunger and even more amazingly, ways of avoiding fairy liquid.
The most important invention, made for students, by machines, is cereal. This miraculous grain-based product, full of complex carbohydrates, has the power to fill you up within minutes, sustain you for hours, and is a cheap and easy way to eat. Pour and add milk - bliss. Gone are the days when you simply had cereal for breakfast, this dietary staple will soon become your saving grace, available when tummies start to rumble. Particularly investigate porridge and the joys therein; the high protein content will placate all but the most die-hard Atkins fans (to
some extent), and “chocolate porridge bliss” can be created with the easy addition of cheap, cheerful chocolate syrup. Soon, however, perhaps in the second term, you may grow sick of cereal. When this happens it’s time to turn to that other complex carbohydrate student staple - pasta. Easy to make and accompanied by a sauce which you can chose from your local Centra or Spar you’ll be full (and proud of your new found cooking skills) in no time at all. Pesto is bland enough as a sauce to use day to day, and can be readily (and yummily) mixed with herbs, black pepper and cheese when “feeding to impress” your potential mate. Mammy and Daddy’s phone calls often come accompanied with the line “Are you sure you’re eating right?” If you don’t want to shock them with your new found diet of cereal and pasta, it’s time to explain to them about the Buttery. This haven is considered by many as the answer to prayers. A place where food is made, and cleared up for you and all you have to do is part with a little bit of cash. Nutritious, balanced meals are cooked every day, complete with meat and three veg, in an overcooked version of Mammy style, and served to the hungry masses in the dining hall at lunch. You can regale the folks with tales of potatoes, and vegetables… which you certainly won’t be making yourself! Always smile at the servers. They like that. You’ll be seeing a lot of them. The power to give you a wee bit extra lies in their be-mitted hands. Another student diet secret is located on Grafton Street. The food hall in Marks and Spencers is the place to be seen when loans are in or you’ve finally got some money. The array of microwave meals is outstanding. You can visit every continent - Indian on a Monday, Chinese on a Tuesday, Italian on a Wednesday and all at the push of a button. Who ever knew you’d have it so sweet?! Plus, the fresh baked goods will win you friends in an instant if your social skills have gone awry. A word of warning though freshers- you might not be missing fruit and vegetables but your body will be, so pop it up every so often with a smoothie Zumo in the Stephen’s Green centre is a treat not just for you, but for your body, especially when the liver is depleted after the copious amounts of beer, nagins and 5 euro bottles of wine downed in fresher week! Remember, one smoothie is all your day’s, perhaps even your whole week’s fruit, in one palatable drink. (NB: Not scientifically calculated.) With a veritable feast of options available to you, there’s no need to be scared - being a student doesn’t mean you have to go on hunger strike!
InShort: The Gingerman Fenian St
The Gingerman is the choice of many when the Pav locks its doors on a Friday night. Whether you’re biding your time until The Palace opens or else fancy ending the evening with a pint and some banter, the Gingerman suits all. A short walk from college, the atmosphere is electric. Clients are a good mix of students and workers, and though there are two floors, space can be at a minimum. If you get there early, the nooks and crannies are cosy, but over-crowding is solved by smokers and non-smokers alike spilling out onto the surrounding street where there are some tables and heaters, but more often than not you’ll end up standing. Due to the crowds, service can be slow but prices are reasonable and there’s a great buzz about the place altogether it’s a great way to start (or end!) a Friday night.
Crawdaddy Harcourt Street
The name ‘Crawdaddy’ is not new to the world of music. Preceding ‘Rolling Stone’ and ‘Creem’, Crawdaddy was the very first US rock magazine in the 1960’s. Do not let this put you off: the club, affectionately nicknamed “C-Diddy”, has succumbed to the modern hip-hop, ghetto fabulous culture yet with 3 separate, if a little tight, rooms, there is something for everyone: pop/cheesy oldies, hip-hop and electro. Thursday’s increasingly popular student night see’s an influx of Trinity and UCD students to the Harcourt Street bar. This location is ideal for first year students who may find venturing in Dublin’s city centre on an unorganised night a daunting prospect. It is located on Harcourt St at the Luas stop and guaranteed to be jammed. At E6.50 for a double vodka and red bull and E3 a pint on it has hence fast become one of Dublin’s hottest student venues. However, expect déjà vu if you frequent this place more than 3 times a month, as the set list on a Thursday rarely changes and the same UCD and Trinity faces will always pop up. On flashing a society card the fee on the door drops from a hefty E8 to a more reasonable E5 but beware with your typical arrogant, angry Dublin bouncers, ID’s are a must!
This Summer was the Summer of McDonalds. Cheaper than chipper (if you know what you’re doing) and far less likely to lay you up with food poisoning, this was restaurant of choice many a scavanging lunch for myself. For starters, McDonald’s is probably the cleanest restaurant you can possibly go to. Everything lives in a freezer (too cold for bugs and other nasties), and due to the packaging being disposed of completely when wasted the chances of infestation are halved again. Plus, due to the controversy of the last five
Dakota South William Street
The common discovery of this unabashedly upmarket venue is oftentimes founded on drink rather than food. Indeed, my own patronage began on realising that for a half decent bottle of house wine I had been charged a mere 13 euro. Nice. (And that no-one seemed to notice us smuggle half of one out under a coat at closing was also a plus.) However, wandering around that part of town one hungersome lunch we happened to notice the food menu. In spite of the decorthat is, leather couches that form three-quarter-circular booths, along with dim lighting and varnished floorboards, not to mention the swish black bar, the food was surprisingly inexpensive. Knowing from my own experience as a waitress that food prepared in a place known for its drink is rarely edible, I waited uncomfortably for my less-than-ten euro meal to arrive. The portions may look small in Dakota, but you rarely feel the same way halfway through your meal. For my first visit, I had meatballs with (and pardon my ignorance) this flat wide lasagney pasta, garnished with rockett. And it was beautiful. The service was laid back but attentive, and the waiters all friendly, although there didn’t seem to be any one dedicated member of staff to a particular section. Although a wee bit dark for a summer lunch (and the outdoor terrace ever full), Dakota impresses on all fronts, delivering Class A no-nonsense food at a price we can all smile at.
JF
Lemon Dawson Street
The second branch of Dublin’s famous creperie opened a stones throw from the Arts Block last year. The perfect position if you want a quick snack on the walk to college, or else a great spot for a power lunch to get you through the long, tough hours in the library come May. Offering
One of the bestrecognised corporate logos both take-away and sit-in options the menu is large and varied, from breakfast waffles and sweet crepes to savoury toasties and all are delicious. Claiming “probably the best coffee” in Dublin at the minute, over the past year, prices have gone up, but branching out from the original premises on South William Street hasn’t affected standards at all. On this occasion, the Club sandwich was at its best. However, I was accompanied by a Lemon non-regular who felt pressured to pick quickly from the large, blackboard style menu. A veggie, in the end she chose a cheese toastie which was
FOODDRINK
McDonalds
years or so surrounding the poor battered chain, they have had to be superbly vigilant on all fronts to avoid closure. Now, the clientelle might be the one dangermine of the McDonald’s dining experience. Often track-suit clad and bloodshot eyed, these lovelies might be a hazard towards any sort of of pretty jewellery or expensive handbag you’re toting. But the allure of the eurosaver menu serves to quash any symptoms of unease that may arise. I mean - two euro for a double cheeseburger? Really? Really? That’s lunch. Plus, the satifaction, especially amongst the current hailing of the size 0, of eating a Big Mac Meal. Yum. Decor? Hmm. Service? Rarely native speakers. Does it matter? Not a bit. All hail MacD’s, now and forever.
described as being “pretty amazing as far as cheese toasties go”, but while looking at the menu as we waited for our food, she was able to pick out options which were much more adventurous. Still having room for dessert, we decided to share the choc ice crepe - a sweet crepe with Belgium milk chocolate buttons and vanilla ice-cream. This was delicious and the idea to share was much appreciated when we left achingly full. All in all a treat for the taste buds, be aware however, it shuts its doors at 7.30, so no evening snacks to be had!
Recipe of the week Recipe name: Roasted vegetable pasta
Ingredients Pasta Hot water Vegetables you've got lying around, such as: Shallots Onions Mushrooms Tomatoes Red & Yellow Peppers Some form of tomato sauce, either proper Dolmio type stuff or just use a little tinned tomato stuff (much cheaper) Vegetable Oil
Method Chop up your veg roughly. put it in an oven dish, add a wee bit of vegetable oil, and slosh it about till everything's covered. Shove it in the oven at an intermediate temperature until they're all nice and soft (shallots and onions will prob take longest). Shove the pasta in a pan of hot water, stirring continuously until cooked through (or it'll stick to the pan horribly). Strain your pasta, mix in your pasta sauce (the heat from the pasta will heat it up) and your roasted vegetables, and you're done, a nice, healthy meal.
17
18 Sex
Ed
SEXLIVES
Words: S o r c h a Lyons
Contraception Conundrum
Fantastic. It’s Fresher’s weekwhich leads to many a debauched night and drunken encounter. You’ve just spent the past four hours chatting up the pimply history student about his aspirations in the SLR when those three glasses of Buckfast begin to go to his head and he has finally began to run his hand up your leg… the panic hits. What is the best contraception to use this Michaelmas term? Luckily Trinity
Our eyes met. He was standing across the room of the quiet bar. He approached me, my heart began to flutter. “Hello,” he whisperered, “you’ve lovely brown eyes… like a horse”. You may be shocked but this is the best chat-up line I’ve ever heard from an Irish man. It’s no surprise then that I am longing for some foreign loving. Thank God for the student summer. We young bohemian types are given over three months to venture into the world and find ourselves- off we head to exotic places with cheap alcohol and like-minded students for hot, wet fun. The college summer is fantastic for the individual but not so hot for couples. Many relationships, which tick along quite nicely at home do not survive the trauma of the college summer. That leaves a substantial number of freshly single college students in the months of June wondering where they should redirect their affections. An obvious choice for these affections are the sexy Italian men who go down on the first date or maybe you’re partial to a thick chunk of American footballing meat with a huge package. Personally, the J1 buzz was not for me- this sex columnist headed to the most passionate city in the world- known as the city of love- Paris. There I was, a bright-eyed, naïve Irish girl turning up on the doorstep of love with my little backpack, waiting for my French fancyman named Pierre, starved of romance by Irishmen who think ass-grabbing in a nightclub is a compliment for which I
News is on hand to help. The Pill: With a 99% success rate against pregnancy, the pill is an option. It is favoured by couples as it increases intimacy and sensitivity. WARNING: Do not forget that with the pill, women are essentially pumping themselves full of rage hormones, they get so fat and ugly that their partners will not want to have sex with them. That’s how it works. Also, it does not protect against STDs, which is vital as Trinity Students are riddled. You heard it here first. Male Condom: With a
should be grateful-who wouldn’t dream of calling you when they can text you to show how un-desperate they are. My experience in Paris with French men was quite different to any encounter I have ever had with an Irish man. The Parisian men are so confident and assured. They will try to seduce you anywhere, anytime- in a phone shop in Paris, the man was selling me my new phone, and was simultaneously taking my number. Not to mention the time that when trying to buy a pair of shoes, the man in the shop invited me down to the cellar to look for the size myself. Parisian men will leave no opportunity unexplored when it comes to the seduction of a woman. I was open to seduction. My romantic mind had me aching for passionate trysts under the Eiffel tower. It was only a matter of time before I met my summer fling. As soon as I saw him I knew this was it. Our eyes met. He was standing across the room of the quiet bar. He was a perfect advertisement for the city of lovedark and striking- he made his way over to me and began to whisper to me in the way that only Parisian men can. How instantly I fell for him, sweeping myself away in a romantic dream, his role was merely
95% success rate against babies and protection against STDs, the male condom stretches in the lead as the most popular option. It’s the contraception of choice of the Student Union. Thankfully no-one in the student union ever has sex so they give them out for free. Wink at David Quinn and he’ll give you one. Withdrawl: Despite what your panting partner might suggest, the withdrawl method is not a successful way to protect against pregnancy. Also, it’s messy and no-one likes a mess. Avoid at all costs.
peripheral. There is something about the way he spoke- the passion with which he spoke to me and stared at me- I lost myself in the heady sensation of being at the centre of his world. We left together. We went back to his apartment. It was perfect- the next morning I was invigorated as I ran through the streets of Montmartre back to my little home. How wonderful that I stumbled upon love in Paris- how cliche, yet how deliciously satisfying. Three days went by. He didn’t call.Three weeks went by. No word. By the fourth week no amount of delusion could hide the fact that this particular French man was not going to call. How brutally I fell from my Parisian dream, how hard I crashed into the dirty Parisian pit of reality. I must dispel the myth that Paris is the city of love- this statement is false. There are more single people in Paris than people in relationships. It is a busy, expensive city- unsuitable for families, crammed with single people living the single Parisian life. One evening as I entered the courtyard of my apartment block, I could hear nothing but the orgasmic screams of a woman coming from a high window, echoing around the yard. I stood there for a moment, listening to this woman’s ecstasy, mulling over the city and the people. How easy it is to romanticise about people and places. The question I ask myself now is: how does one distinguish between love and lust and onceoff romantic encounters? Behind all glossy sheens there are darker realities. As I wander along the streets of Montmartre I am teetering desperately close to the sewers of Pigalle- dodging prostitutes and pimps. I come to the conclusion that despite the high levels of love tourism Paris is not the city of love, rather, it is the city of sex… Forget Pierre, suddenly old Fintan doesn’t seem that bad after all.
Natural or Rhythm Method: This option should only be attempted by the most organised of people. There is a lot of temperature taking and flirting with the calendar involved in order to determine when the woman is ovulating. With a mere 79% success rate, it’s a lot of hassle to go to. However, it is the only form of contraception approved by the Catholic Churchtherefore you could suggest it to that girl in the Christian Union you’re trying to lay… but you’ll have to marry her if it doesn’t work.
THEBOX
The Family redefined Words: Darren Kennedy
I bet if you got every old school Sopranos fan together who’s been loyal since episode 1.1 and asked for a show of hands if any of them can vouch for a program more worthy of the title of “Their Favourite TV Show”, you'd have a crowd of full pockets. But who can blame them really? The Sopranos has reeled in so many awards that speak for themselves. The show’s writers are certainly not shy of some of the most prestigious awards in the television community. They’ve notched up a worthy number of accolades from The Academy of Television Arts and Science (The Emmy Awards to you and me), and the Writer’s Guild of America, for their razor sharp dialogue week in, week out, which almost seems poetic at times. Its direction hasn’t gone unnoticed either by the Director’s Guild. Most importantly, the show is blessed with an astounding cast who never fail to deliver jawdropping performances, especially Michael Imperioli played by Christopher Moltisanti, who also writes for the show and has received five Emmy nominations as Outstanding Supporting Actor in a Drama Series. Unlike most other TV shows, The Sopranos isn’t exactly the type that accommodates the casual viewer. You can’t simply be channel hoping and come across a random episode and expect to have a clue as to what’s going on. The show has built a huge fan base that has remained loyal on account of the show’s consistency and it still continues to grow. New viewers, who were previously oblivious to the shows quality, are now playing catch-up with the shows box-sets. But after 77 episodes stretching over six seasons, and with word on the street being that a shortened final season is merely lurking on the horizon, the question at the tip of its fans
tongues is “How is it all going to end”? For this series, we can breathe a sigh of relief because for once it won’t be necessary to endure the usual two year wait between seasons. This one only has eight episodes and is expected to air in January in the US. Everyone was expecting Season 6 to end in bloodshed that would leave us thirsty for more in Season 7. Instead we witnessed it end on a tranquil note with everyone surrounding a huge blazing fire on Christmas Eve. This has always been the writers’ style. We are introduced to a new theme slowly so as to make the imminent crescendo all the more worthwhile. Despite this, we can all rest assured because this homely image that we were left with is merely just the calm before the storm. Tony has come out of his shooting a changed man and his primary concern is to let sleeping dogs lie with Phil Leotardo. As Phil lies in his impaired state in his hospital bed he is incapable of responding to Tony’s enlightening speech to have a truce confirmed for us viewers. Phil’s captain, however, doesn’t seem to be on the same page as Tony and his statement, “We gotta stop meeting like this”, only signals the impending violence that’s about to explode between the New York and Jersey families in Season 7. It also appears that New York are dealing with a case of an informant on their hands based on the meeting between Agent Harris and Tony in Satriales. Harris informs Tony of the fact that it’s under serious discussions at top levels how he’s not very popular in Brooklyn and how somebody very close to him may be in danger. This undoubtedly gives the green light to the foreshadowing war in the last season. Christopher Moltisanti
Keeping it in the family has once again returned to his drug taking ways and it seems that this time he’s certainly on an irreversible downward spiral which will once and for all compound the fact that he’s not the man Tony wants him to be. Season 4 showed us how close he came to being killed by his OC family due to his drug abuse and he only got a pass due to how close he is to Tony. ”You’re my nephew and I love you…anybody else would’ve had their f*ckin’ intervention right through the back of their head”. In the mob there are no second chances, and I don’t see it being likely that we’ll go through the whole rehabilitation process all over again, so this new season will surely spell Christopher’s ultimate downfall whether it be through overdosing or through Tony becoming aware of his recent relapse. There are also a number of questions that have remained unanswered spanning down through previous seasons that this forthcoming one may be able to shed some light on. Why, for example, was there an Asian man named Christopher Moltisanti doing a stockbroking exam during the intro of season
two? Did the Russian mobster who performed a disappearing act in the Pine Barron’s survive the gunshot to his head? Will Furio return from wherever he went? A lot of people are also hung up on the idea that Adrianna is still alive. In my opinion, unless she’s the next 50 cent, I’m pretty confident that we’ll possibly be only seeing her in another one of the Sopranos patented dream scenarios. How is all going to end? Nobody knows, because Chase and the rest of his crew will be under strict instructions not to let it leak. Due to the fact that we just witnessed the most recent season ending on a placid note I can only assume that season 7 will end in an opposite manner. The show has never shied away from killing off major characters and that’s exactly what we can expect. With all the personal predictions and theories I can still guarantee we’re going to be in for a surprise. Lets just sit back and enjoy and watch out for the part the two Middle-Eastern men who’ve been hangin’ out in BadaBing play in S7!
19
In 60 seconds
Who’s the last person you’d invite to a party? Mary Harney What’s your favourite track of the moment? AM180 by Grandaddy
Niall Breslin Lead Vocals/Guitar with
The Blizzards
Favourite food? Ummm... Mexican. Favourite clothes shop? That’s a tough one... Urban Outiftters? Favourite kind of cheese? George Clinton [type of cheeseapparently!] Last place abroad? Los Angeles.
you
were
Favourite holiday destination? Florence.
ENDNOTES
Most extravagant luxury? My most extravagant luxury would be... Oh fuck... Going to Florence. There you go. What’s your favourite pretentious quote? “You don’t understand.” Most proud moment? When I saw Riverdance in Eurovision. I was there so. Biggest concern in the modern world? The price of pig food in Albania. Best film you’ve seen recently? Four Brothers.
Nicest thing you’ve done for an other half? I sent them to a wedding they couldn’t afford to go to. I didn’t go to it but I sent them to it. It was in South America and I paid for it. Fairly material one, that.
HOT
20
Twenty Questions
Your 60 seconds starts now...
Who should rule the world and why? Mary Harney cos she’d make everyone else feel better about themselves. Worst piece of advice you’ve ever been given? Revenge is a dish best served cold. Your most annoying habit? I don’t know if it’s a habit but I can be really really narky, and when I’m narky I annoy myself so... Least favourite chocolate bar? Hershey’s-f*ckin hate them. American chocolate. Surprising they have such an obesity problem. I wouldn’t be able to eat that chocolate. What’s your favourite sound? Eh-The Blizzards! [Shameless plug.]
Marks and Spencer cookies. Never fail to impress *** The return of people-finder: stalking need not be restricted to Bebo *** Ugg Boots - if you go by the 46 bus stop or DUBES *** Sex tapes- Screech from Saved By the Bell even has one - nice. *** Cheerleaders.
What got you where you are? The band? We’re very professional about what we do, and we’ve sacrificed a lot for it.
Halls parties being shut down - who’s studying right now anyway?
How would your mother describe you? A horrible c*nt. Ha ha ha! If that’s alright.
Junior Dean bans alcohol in Freshers’ Week - the sugar overload to compensate nearly killed us
***
***
SU ENTS in’ Goldie Look Chain Oct Weds 14th Sp €10
Trinity News Launch Party Friday 13th October 7pm Atrium
Noticeboard Filmm ak Cinem ers a Camp Boot 9th-12 th Oc t GMB
SU ENTS Freshers’ Ball, or, Mundy/Direct , Wed 18th Oct Spirit €15
Spark le Wed horse 14 Whela th Oct n 7:30p s m €22.6 ; 5
T h e P h il U S F o re ig n P o li c y D e b a te m T h u rs d a y 7 p
GMB
Umbrella Etiquette: or lack of, particularly on Grafton Street. *** The Hoff’s new single “Jump in my Car”. Anyone see the trail of slime behind him as he walked to the GMB?
C
OLD