The University Observer’s Arts & Culture Supplement VOL XVI, ISSUE 10 - 30.03.10
2 HELLO
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REGULARS SOAPBOX – let’s hear it for the queue crew at IKEA WHAT’S HOT & WHAT’S NOT – Michelle McCormick waxes and wanes over topics that have too much relevance to ordinary everyday lives VOXPOP – Sean McGovern uncovers your deepest rugby desires
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TWATS– tweet, tweet… the latest in celeb idiocy ATTEMPTS – otwo goes underground (literally) in the UCD tunnels
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OPINION Jamie pushes his way to his cinema seat, while Anto gets multiple libels for which he may be sacked
T R AV E L – Looking to cram yourself into a metallic box for weeks on end, somewhere in Europe? Great! Let Alison Lee fill you in on the interrailing details – But wait, there’s more! David Uwakwe tells us about the pitstop of Strasbourg
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HEADLINER – Kick-Ass star Aaron Johnson gives us nothing controversial whatsoever to talk about. It’s still an interesting interview, though. Promise.
FILM & TV REVIEWS: So there were many things we wanted to look at here but Hollywood didn’t make them in time, so instead we make do with Kick-Ass, Whip It and Cemetary Junction
FEATURE Conor Barry gives an insightful look the Rise of the Superhero
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FOOD & DRINK – Colin Sweetman goes all Irish and visits the Boxty House, while Lynda O’Keeffe explains what a Boxty is
UNDERSOUND SOUND – Sally Hayden talks to General Fiasco and Delorentos, while Vincent O’Boyle interviews New Young Pony Club before some Rain Machine with Grace Duffy
C U LT U R E WA S H Classical or Crap? The biggest debate in modern Belfield: You decide who wins…
– Aileen Johnson gives us the low-down on Cougar Town, and Conor Barry gives us inside information on the Awkward Irish Host
TOP TEN shit superheroes with Breffni O’Sullivan because he’s a man, man.
MUSIC Grace Murphy speaks to space musician Jeff Wayne in reminiscence, and Alison Lee provides us with news on OneRepublic
TELEVISION
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WEB – A Tumblr special WebWatch, plus some bore-stopping websites to play with
MUSIC REVIEWS – Yay or nay? Well, have a look see. CDs aplenty, y’all
THE FUTURE – Mystic Mittens and gigs galore. Your fortnight is now complete… follow our list and join our cult.
Letter
from the Ed In the immortal words of Andre 3000: Hey Ya! I was severely disappointed this week when I found out that Guinness has stopped giving free pints out after blood donations. The best pints come out of the blood bank because it’s cold, they know how to serve it correctly, and it comes from a glass bottle. But they are no more, sadly. But funnily enough, and unrelated to April Fool’s Day, the EU has given leprechauns a recognisable status in Ireland. That’s right: from now on it is illegal to poach, hunt, injure or kill a leprechaun – proof that the EU is becoming more and more like a federal state, in that federal states tend to harvest stupid people. Besides from that, there is an unfunny joke on the horizon in the form of exams. I would just like to offer my condolences to all you students out there, and possibly my best wishes. Yours, Colin
FA S H I O N
otwo@universityobserver.ie twitter.com/otwo
– Icons and Waxing… that’s all the information the Fashion Editor would give me. I hope we didn’t wax Aaron Johnson.
otwo
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WHINGE 3
SOAPBOX Ikea, I saw, I conquered - Alison Lee shares her unique fear of flatpack I’m gripped by dread as the huge blue shoebox-on-legs looms over the horizon. It resembles a clunky spaceship, crash-landed in the wasteland bordering the M50. Fear clenches my stomach, a cold sweat breaks out on my brow - a reaction some reserve for heights, tarantulas... or in my case, Swedish flat-pack furniture. I don’t think Ikeaphobia is a recognised medical syndrome but it’s only a matter of time. My father and I recently found ourselves outside this Temple of Doom before it was even open (there was already a queue). The mob of enthusiastic, clinically insane consumers was composed of parents pushing buggies, starryeyed newly-weds, and determined-looking men hoping to get the weekend DIY over with early so they could watch the match, or maybe gouge their own eyes out- ANYTHING but screw chrome castors onto birch-effect filing cabinets. A friendly intercom-voice informed us the abyss was open for business so we wandered like a herd of befuddled sheep into the yellowand-blue, industrial yet cheerful labyrinth. Our mission was simple - buy a desk. We even had one picked out from the catalogue- “Gustav” was its name (all Ikea items have names. I don’t know either). So… find Gustav, pay, leave. Right? Wrong. Somehow we ended up exiting with not only our new pal Gustav in tow but also a few magazine-holders, a table lamb, lightbulbs, a dustpan-and-brush, scented tealights, and a candleholder. This is because, to escape Ikea, one has to trudge through acres of tempting, colourful knickknacks… What stonyhearted monster could resist the siren call of a miniature pink cheesegrater?? And if you traverse this Scylla unscathed you’re ensnared by Charybdis - a cavernous warehouse where you find your desired flatpack items and manoeuvre them onto a trolley without slipping a disc. Its an eerie place - you can’t help imagine packs of lost children, abandoned by their interior-obsessed parents, slinking out the of the shadows at night to scavenge for scraps and bounce on beds. The Ikea ordeal doesn’t even end here. You have to queue at the till, steer your dangerously overloaded trolley through a car park and then squeeze the unwieldy boxes into the damn car. And at home, the torture of Assembly begins. This is the part where I crawl under by bed and hide from the cursing, screwdriver-wielding demon that was once my loving dad. Ok, Ikea is cheap, stylish, and efficient. It’s also sneaky and underhand, seducing the innocent customer into spending far more than they ever intended to. As for efficiency: this is Ireland for gods’ sake, since when have we appreciated this alien Scandinavian concept?? Efficiency shmefficiency. I’ve since decided to abandon the idea of someday taking out a mortgage and doing up my dream home. Instead I’ll move into a yurt in the forest, furnished with animal hides. Maybe a log. No Gustavs, that’s for sure.
This fortnight’s movers and losers as chosen by otwo’s resident hot stuff Michelle McCormick
HOT
Hairy Chests It has come to the attention of the otwo staffers that men don’t know that some women actually like hairy chests. For shame! There is nothing better than snuggling into a chestmat of epic proportions - not only is it relaxing, but it also affirms the manliness of your manly man.
Trolololololo man This month’s superstar is Trolololololo man (YouTube it) - a singer from the 70s who manages to sing a mesmerising song, without words, or moving his lips. You won’t be able to stop watching, or bursting into trolololo song in the shower, on the bus, or in awkward silences.
The return of Glee It’s been a long, hard wait for us true Gleevotees. Ever since Glee’s mid-season break, we’ve had to put up with everyone else catching on months late, misquoting Sue Sylvester and generally being annoying while we wait for new episodes. But it’s back next week. Hooraysies!
UCD Carnival We’re reliably informed that this year’s UCD Ball will feature a carnival. Hurrah! Fairground rides, candyfloss and general carnivalosity awaits us all on April 23. Good thing as well, it will give us something to do while we’re waiting for Jedward. JEDLY!
Cheating celebs Celeb after celeb is coming out with “shocking” stories of their “indiscretions” with cocktail waitressess, dancers, hostesses etc etc etc. Even Mark Owen - little, lovely, pure, boybandy Mark Owen – can’t manage to not sleep with some skank other than his wife. And why? Too much temptation? Sex addiction? Please.
Academics Assignments, essays, exams, more assignments. Yeah, this is what college is actually all about but damn, it really crimps one’s social life. And you have to swap the bar for the library. Really loud chewing, really bad personal hygiene, people taking naps, people using the library as a social event... seriously, just fuck off.
Amateur Paparazzi You know the type always have a camera at their fingertips, ready to pounce every time you do something stupid or look vaguely rough. They incessantly take pictures on nights out, so that when you wake up in the morning you have 20 Facebook notifications of tagged pictures of you doing things you’d forgotten out of sheer shame.
NOT
Chatroulette Ok, so we get the concept. Using Chatroulette, you can connect with strangers worldwide for chats and stuff. Interesting, yes? A fascinating insight into the mindset and cultures of others. You might meet your new best friend... eh, no, you’ll just see lots of random dudes wanking. And nobody really needs to see that. otwo
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4
WHINGE
say what ???
QUESTION: The ads are back - so how do you eat yours? asks Selva Unal “Sexton all the way! I know he missed a few goals but he was in my class in school so there you go!”
Marie Cafferkie, 3rd Arts
“
“O’Gara. He scored… more. He scored more.”
Aodhán Ó Dea, 4th B&L
“He’s better! That’s all you need”
”
Emma Holohan, 2nd Commerce & French
“Sexton – I just prefer him. I just think he’s young and he’s a better player.”
Luke Duggan, 2nd Arts
Twats of the Fortnight
Want to know what celebrities are twittering on about these days? Michelle McCormick rounds up this fortnight’s biggest twats for your perusal... @RobbieSavage8 Got up this morning to diarea all over kitchen f... ing dog !! Mrs left it for me to clean up very crafty ! Ah, the life of an international sports personality of some description. This (apparently) famous football player (or something) has to clean up his dog’s shit. That’s funny, because he’s rich and famous and we are not. Ha!
retarded. I think this particular tweet is a mix of both. @spencerpratt If I get Free of my ego we ALL get free of OUR ego! Because: We’re ALL the same being and that’s the problem - we can only move together
@johncmayer I believe the US mint has changed the look of currency to prevent time travelers from smuggling cash into the past.
Ego… pratt… being free of him… too many puns to calculate. Here’s the gist of whatever pun combo I could use: Spencer Pratt is also an actual prat, and he has a massive ego, so it’s funny that he’s telling us to be free of our egos. Geddit?
It’s hard to know when singer John Mayer (remember that song Your Body is a Wonderland? No? Thought not) is attempting to be funny or is just plain
@justinbieber CHUCK NORRIS could cut this excitement with a knife...LESS THAN 1 HOUR until MY WORLD 2.0!! otwo
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Peter Beale, I mean… Justin Bieber completely fails to grasp the concept of a Chuck Norris joke while promoting his new album. Chuck Norris wouldn’t need a knife, you see. Because he’s Chuck Norris. @iamdiddy Yall know sean is a irish name!!!! I’m a honorary irishman!!!! Happy st. Patty s day! This tweet is so full of fail that it’s hard to know where to begin. Paddy, not Patty. Also, most Irish people are literate. So you’ve got some catching up to do, Diddums.
otwo attempts : Tunnels
ATTEMPTS 5
We’ve all heard about them, but few have visited them… otwo takes a trip into UCD’s underground tunnels On any given night of the week, you can guarantee that any student has several off-the-cuff ideas for what to do with their evening. Some play X-box. Some go drinking. Some even curl up and have a good cry over that disgusting online video they said they’d never watch. But some... some grab a torch and a photographer – plus anyone else who’s up for it – and venture down a dark and dank hole in the middle of an arbitrary collection of greenery and shrubs. For this fortnight’s Attempts, otwo set the challenge of burrowing into the elusive UCD tunnel system. Once listed in the ‘fantastic’ Fresher’s Guide as one of the Things To Do Before You Leave College, these passages produce a certain level of intrigue among students who haven’t crawled in to dig the flamboyant decor. I’d like to say we found a once-thought-extinct race of crab people down there. I’d also like to say we found an underground bazaar full of exotic trinkets and effervescent incense. Hell, I’d even like to say we found some unknown, kinky UCD society that has become involved in an unexplainable fusion of sado-masochism and high-end biological terrorism. Alas, these imagined instances were not to be. No. These are memories that I will tell to my grandchildren, to make Grandpa seem like he was hip once upon a never. Unfortunately the tunnels themselves were stunningly average. However, the preceding moments were composed solely of those memories that get exaggerated and perused upon over several pints. We were somewhere around the edge of the Clonskeagh entrance when the fear began to take hold. Surrounding my stationary car, the four of us considered our options for an entrance and the subsequent getaway. Hearts thumping and stomachs in our mouths, we marched down the main concourse with utter confidence. Wait – that’s a lie too. We jibber-jabbered at each other like it was a banter contest. Our nerves were on the edge of a Himalayan cliff, been poked at by a hyperactive child. As we got to the entrance in question certain high-viz wearing trolls became apparent in our peripheral vision. They were right in front of us.
Our Ocean’s Eleven instincts kicked in and the split-screen montage began. We cleverly took shelter from the rain under a nearby awning, acting suavely as we lit cigarettes and exchanged war stories about our previous espionage jobs. After a few minutes and the passing of an odd group with swords, we felt confident enough to make our move. Slick tumbles sideswipe through the frame. A procession of darkly clothed figures
Into the trees. Lift the grate: GO GO GO GO! One in. Two in. Three in. Yahtzee otwo
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manoeuvres across the walkway, set elegantly against a soundtrack of free form jazz. Into the trees. Lift the grate: GO GO GO GO! One in. Two in. Three in. Yahtzee. The ladder was incredibly slippery and a lot longer than we initially thought. After reaching the bottom it became clear that we might not be alone down here. Not that there was an early Ridley Scott extra down there or anything, but the light in the first room was on. This terrified us. Nonetheless we proceeded, heroes that we are. Given a wrong turn we ended up in the passages running under the Arts Block, eavesdropping from beneath the benches of some random lecture theatre. Upon realising our mistake we turned and made our way to the actual tunnel. Picture an endless passage like something out of the midpoint of a Bond film – somewhere that oozes conspiracy and evil henchmen; European guns and a helpless femme fatale named after a cunning stunt. None of these things were there, though: just four students quietly wondering to themselves why in the name of Jeff Bridges they were down in this sorry excuse for God’s lower intestine. It’s hot and cold at the same time; although that could have been the adrenaline pumping under our cold sweat of mortal fear. In addition, if we got caught by any form of security, we had no exit strategy at all. One way in, one way out. A bad sexual encounter without the sex or happy ending. Just deep, dark and completely impersonal. Realising that we were just past the science block and that our epic quest was beginning to lose all sense of meaning and purpose, we turned back. Yet with heads held high and egos raised slightly above their average low, we exited the hole in an inexplicable display of bumbling fortitude. Attitude be damned, I was getting out of here alive and without punishment. In retrospect, the mediocrity of the adventure lends itself quite nicely to the story of a UCD student career. The system is one way, shrouded in dark thoughts, unnecessary maintenance and tiresome work. When you come out the other side, you’re dirty and not quite sure why you went in the first place.
6 MUSIC
Mixtape
A Classical Mixtape to Fall Asleep To Finding it hard to drift off lately? Whether it’s that excess caffeine or an inverted body clock, Grace Murphy’s playlist will send you off Debussy – Clair de Lune The French term for ‘moonlight’, this piece is breathtakingly beautiful and altogether relaxing. Unfortunately it features on the Twilight soundtrack, which is an abomination in itself. Take a celebrated piano suite, add some sparkly vampires in a tree and you’ve got sacrilege, but the hypnotising power of this movement cannot be denied. J.S. Bach – The Goldberg Variations Aria More piano music! This masterpiece was commissioned by an insomniac Count, who liked to be played to sleep on restless nights. It’s one of Bach’s greatest masterpieces, and was intended to send its audience to sleep. Tragic, but effective. Edward Elgar – Enigma Variations [13 to 15] Elgar composed the original melody to this work as he was daydreaming, so it seems appropriate that it might send a weary listener to sleep. The variations are inspired by his close friends. Awh!
Gustav Holst – Neptune (from The Planets suite) This astrologically themed movement is quite trippy – or as trippy as music could be in the 1920s. Prepare to descend into sleep filled with murky dreams haunted by Spielberg aliens. Johannes Brahms – Lullaby A classic. If you’re not familiar with this lullaby in some form, you must have been raised by the Dursleys. The slow, calming melody is sure to lull you into a deep slumber – this time featuring bunny wabbits, fluffy clouds, and Charlie the Unicorn. Frédéric Chopin – Nocturnes [Opus 9] I challenge you to listen through this dreamy triplet without feeling at least a little drowsy. Chuck Norris himself would bow down and snore before the magnificent power of Frédéric Chopin.
Antonio Vivaldi – Summer (from The Four Seasons) This one is a bit too ‘upbeat’ for my liking, but is well known as a classical piece to relax to. It’s intended to capture that sleepy, laidback feeling of a warm summer’s day (though perhaps not in this sod-ridden country), ending in a thunderstorm – a bit you mightn’t find that useful when getting some kip. Ludwig van Beethoven – Moonlight Sonata (first movement) I do like piano music. This is technically a love song (written by Beethoven for a teenage student. Ew…) but it’s incredibly relaxing and will most definitely induce a deep slumber, if not a coma. Erik Satie – Gymnopedie No. 1 Another piano classic it might be, but Satie’s seminal masterpiece is the classic sleepytime song. Imagine sitting back in a candlelit room with a glass of fine red wine and just being… Aaaaaah.
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otwo
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DRAMA MUSIC 7
A
s Dramsoc prepares for its annual awards ceremony, the DAs – a night where the entire society pats itself on the back and drinks itself into oblivion – it may be interesting to reflect on the year and assess this society’s individuality and its place within the college as a whole. Let’s look at some numbers: 135 performances of 30 different shows, six Irish Student Drama Association nominations, five Freshers’ Projects, three major charity events, three autonomous festivals, one Leaving Cert production, and in the region of 30 different workshops. The bare statistics are impressive, but what may be more startling is the fact that any day you’re in college you can see not one, but two different pieces of theatre at a very low cost. Numbers, however, are never the whole story and Dramsoc, as a society, is not universally liked. A piece of toilet graffiti in the arts block basement may be illustrative. “What do Dramsoc do?” asks an anonymous egesting student, a question he himself answers with “Sit around under the stairs wanking and talking shite.” The gentleman has a point. On the face of it Dramsoc do a lot of sitting around under the stairs talking nonsense. In my first year in college, though I was particularly interested in acting, I wouldn’t go near the place, for precisely this reason. And one can sympathise with the tormented souls in the computer rooms whose
A Day in the Life: Dramsoc study is often interrupted by a wannabe troubadour murdering some Ray LaMontagne under the stairs, or the shouts from a small game of rugby played with an empty Coke bottle. Hopefully a solution to this problem may have
be done. The open-door policy initiated by this year’s committee invites anyone and everyone to enter the theatre – and once inside, gently informs them of a flat that needs painting or a drape that needs hanging.
been found in the conversion of the Dramsoc office beside the Trap into a recreational area. Should one be brave enough to venture past this obstacle, and I feel no shame in saying one should, there is a different world altogether waiting on the other side, equally as loud but infinitely more enjoyable. The theatre itself, on any given day, is always a hive of activity. As the majority of productions require some kind of set, one of the production managers or their numerous assistants – the greater part of whom are engineers – will be hammering, sawing or painting. There will invariably be someone up a rickety wooden ladder adjusting lights or hanging drapes, while actors will be rehearsing scenes, getting into costume or just helping out with anything that needs to
And it’s this point that needs particular attention. The dedication, passion and commitment of so many members is startling. Many people work long hours in the theatre, as much as most jobs, for practically no reward – no money, no name in lights, nothing but grief from the parents – purely because they love it. Plays are often rehearsed, designed, built, lit and performed – all within two weeks. Every show performed, besides the cast and the director, require about ten others behind-the-scenes personnel. Each week, almost without fail, these positions are filled and all for the simple goals of having a laugh and creating something interesting and new. I doubt whether there are other places that can conceivably cater for every single aspect of creativity. Whether
“The theatre itself, on any given day, is always a hive of activity”
otwo
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your talents and interests lie in art or music, graphic design, set design or construction, lighting, writing, directing, acting, dancing, singing… there is something there for you. It may be useful to put all this in perspective. In a huge university where (despite all their protestations to the contrary) the authorities have proved a significant factor in advancing student alienation and discontent, the college societies are trying desperately to uphold John Henry Newman’s belief that college work should never get in the way of your education: “If then a university is a direct preparation for this world, let it be what is professes… We cannot possibly keep them (students) from plunging into the world, with all its ways and principles and maxims, when their time comes; but we can prepare them against what is inevitable; and it is not the way to learn to swim in troubled waters, never to have gone into them.” It is impossible to qualitatively assess the importance of societies to student life. Society alumni always come back and say college constituted the best years of theirs. It certainly seems that way for those in Dramsoc, and as the DAs approach it is difficult to begrudge them that little pat on the back. Keith Thompson
8 MUSIC
OneRepublican Party
Zack Filkins of chart toppers OneRepublic chats to Alison Lee about ups and downs and some serious U2 appreciation
A
lthough Zack Filkins studied aeronautical engineering in college, he somehow wound up as guitarist of current pop sensation OneRepublic – after enjoying a brief (harhar) stint as a male underwear model along the way. otwo asks Filkins why he forswore the chance of a stable career to the winds to chase a dream that may never have come true. “I wasn’t prepared to settle down and do a fifty-hour a week desk job,” he admits. “I didn’t study, I just played guitar.” Although dropping out of college worked out pretty well for Zach, initially things didn’t go smoothly for fledgling OneRepublic. Filkins (along with Brent Kutzle, Drew Brown, Eddie Fisher and acclaimed songwriter Ryan Tedder) were originally signed to Columbia Records, a professional relationship that soon turned sour. “We were just finished playing Coachella [a major American music festival], we were thinking we’re on our way, everything is gonna work, we had all these huge dreams… and on our drive back to LA we got the call from our management saying they wanted nothing to do with us,” recounts Filkins. “That was a bitter moment – it made us cautious and jaded.” Thus when legendary pop producer Timbaland approached the group, they accepted his offer of a record deal. “A lot of bands that are rock/ alternative would not want a pop producer,” says Filkins diplomatically. “But because of everything we had been through we were open to trying something very different.” They made the right choice – since joining forces with Timbaland, OneRepublic’s popularity has soared, with the group attaining a coveted Top 3 spot in the Billboard
Hot 100 charts with the ubiquitous ‘Apologize’. But does Filkins feel the group’s musical integrity was compromised when they signed to a pop/hip-hop record label? Not at all.
soon. “I’m a private person,” says Filkins. “The important thing is to spend time alone to recharge, because if not you burn out, you end up in
“We always have to be authentic” “No matter what rules we broke, we always have to be authentic,” he says, “it’s never contrived.” Some may feel sceptical at this considering Tedder, the group’s songwriter, has penned club chart toppers for the likes of Beyoncé and Leona Lewis, and OneRepublic’s material is no stranger to the charts. But Filkins feels OneRepublic isn’t about manufactured pop. “We want the music to be deeper, we want the lyrics to mean something and hopefully grab people’s attention form the inside,” he says earnestly, citing U2 as another band whose work has “…an emotional undercurrent, there’s a purpose behind the music… We really respect that and we really look up to it.” Despite the group’s popularity, one can’t accuse them of being publicityhungry – you won’t be seeing them on the cover of a tabloid anytime otwo
rehab or stuck in your house for a year”. He also mentions the potential dangers of Twitter and Myspace: “With all this technology you can very easily bring people into every second of your life.” Not another stereotypical attentionseeking rock star so – and Filkins’ upbringing was equally unconventional. Although American, he spent his childhood in Spain where he studied classical guitar. So did he grow up listening to different music to the rest of his band mates? 30.03.10
“You know the cheesy eighties pop? I missed some of that,” he says wistfully. “But I got into U2 and Nirvana – I got dark sort of quickly.” Another mention of U2, for whom OneRepublic will open at upcoming shows in Munich, Zurich and Vienna. They’re also stopping by Dublin to showcase their new album Waking Up, which Filkins describes as being “more up-tempo, more exciting and maybe not so brooding,” when compared to their first record Dreaming Out Loud. “It represents more our current state of mind and where we are musically,” he says. “The first album was written mainly because we were stuck in LA and we were unhappy where we were.” When it comes to songwriting, who rules the roost considering Ryan Tedder is the seasoned pop composer of the group? “Lyrics we leave up to Ryan – we’re glad we do it because he’s a lyrical assassin!” laughs Zach. “Aside from that musically we all have the same input; we all put it in there.” He is quick to reassure otwo that OneRepublic like to keep things democratic – “It’s very much a collaborative team effort. So far there’s been no fighting, kicking, punching, or screaming.” The guys are quick to stress how they enjoyed their previous Dublin gigs: “We found some pubs and we walked around and we made sure we drove passed U2’s office so we could look at it and go “wow”!” With any luck their upcoming show should see them in just as enthusiastic a mood. OneRepublic play the Academy on 14th April
MUSIC 9
The musical mastermind behind Jeff Wayne’s War of the Worlds speaks to Grace Murphy about a spectacular production to which he has dedicated almost half his life
Intergalactic Mastermind O
n first hearing the name ‘Jeff Wayne’ a light switch did not immediately illuminate within. A flicker of recognition did not cross my eyes. In fact, I had no freaking clue who the chap was until a quick Google revealed him to be ‘Jeff Wayne’ of ‘Jeff Wayne’s Musical Version of The War of the Worlds’. That dodgy Tom Cruise film, I hear you say? Oh no. I’m talking about Jeff Wayne’s musical adaptation of the celebrated H.G. Wells novel which has spent the last four years on tour as a live show conducted by Jeff Wayne himself. He’s kind of a big deal. His apartment smells of rich mahogany. The live show has sold out arena tours and promises to be a ‘thrilling and entertaining multimedia extravaganza’ complete with pyrotechnics, eleven-foot 3D holograms, and 25-foot screens. Jeff offers a vibrant description of what to expect. “On our next tour we’re gonna have a whole range of new things that’ll take this multimedia spectacular to a whole new level,” Wayne enthuses. “We have an opening sequence and a closing sequence that have been totally revamped, that’ll bring audience interactivity into the equation. Without giving too much away simply ‘cos the fun of it is experiencing what we do – last tour we added a new ingredient, from the ‘World of Illusion’. It’s a levitation effect which had never been done before in live entertainment. Each production keeps growing and taking things in new directions.” These new directions include some changes
to the line-up, which originally featured the legendary Phil Lynott. Unfortunately this coming production boasts not gods of the rock ‘n’ roll
“Performing is, I think, a bit like being on holidays. It’s like your feet never touching the floor” halls of fame, but Jason Donovan, Liz McClarnon and Rhydian. That’s right: that lad from Neighbours who used to sing with Kylie Minogue, the most bland member of Atomic Kitten, and that transparent Welsh guy who almost won X Factor. Can these promising stars match Lynott’s talent? “Phil was quite magical to work with – I have only the most wonderful memories of working with him. Rhydian has a completely different approach but I worked with him for a couple of days in my studio and his voice is quite incredible.” Jeff originally adapted the novel as a double album over thirty years ago, with no preconceptions of the following it would attract. “I guess when I look back to when I was writing and producing it I was living in a time when punk was the revolutionary music, disco was the king of the dance floor, and there I was writing a 100-minute otwo
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continuous piece, trying to interpret a Victorian tale. So I wasn’t following any mould of the day and therefore I could see it disappearing off the face of the earth and maybe not even getting a release. When I finished it was I was very proud of the way it sounded and all the guest artists and musicians that contributed their performances to what I created – and lo and behold, it took off immediately. We’ve been touring for four years and it’s just getting bigger and bigger.” So who exactly makes it their business to attend a live performance of a musical adaptation of a sci-fi novel written in the 1890s? “We’ve seen people of every age attending; some have heard of the spectacle part of it and not realised it’s connected to a musical work, and others who may know the album think they’re coming to a concert interpretation and discover that it’s far from that. I’m just thrilled that we’re entertaining people and critics have pretty much been very praiseworthy of it and we keep getting invited back. That’s good enough for me.” Having spent exactly half of his life on this project you’d think Jeff would grow tired of finding new ways to tell the same story but apparently not – as long as there’s somewhere new to tour he’ll be there with a smile. “Well, I conduct on stage. We’ve got a tenpiece band and a symphonic string orchestra and performing is, I think, a bit like being on holidays. It’s like your feet never touching the floor. There’s so much energy and emotion going into it that by the time we finish a great performance we’re all buzzing. We all hang out a lot together after the show and it’s just a good vibe really.” In fact, Jeff is so busy with The War of the Worlds that he has time for little else. “Since we’ve started touring in 2006 it’s really dominated my life. We finish one tour and then unlike taking the easy path of next time taking it out of the box and doing it the same way again, pretty much the second I know there is another tour on offer I go back to the drawing board. I’ve had a couple of offers over the last few years that I wish I had been available for but The War of the Worlds is pretty much full on for me and until we finish touring next year I won’t have the opportunity to consider anything else, and I’m not complaining.” Jeff Wayne’s Musical Version of The War of The Worlds – Alive on Stage! comes to The O2 Arena on 29th November. www.ticketmaster.ie
10 COLUMNS
It’s Jamie’s world... we just live in it Ever sat in the wrong cinema seat? Watch out: Jamie Martin is armed. With Coke Many problems have faced man since the dawn of time itself – but prime among them must be why people can’t sit in their own seats in the cinema. I can imagine the Greeks fighting over who was sitting in A3 and who in A4 at their auditoriums of old. Something like this really annoys me, as it makes me feel like I am the one who is being unreasonable. Last week I went to see Alice in Wonderland (I wasn’t too impressed, but I’ll leave the reviewing up to the folks on page 20) and found a young Spanish student in my seat. He eventually moved – after the usher shouted at him – only to sneak into the seat beside me after ten minutes of the movie. This alone would not have angered me too much, but it was the fact that he began talking loudly to his girlfriend thereafter that really pissed me off. I thought a few well-aimed glares would do the trick – but eventually I had to sit up, look him in the eye, and tell him to shut the fuck up. Which he promptly executed. About two years ago – around Christmas time –my girlfriend and I went to the cinema. The place was booked out, as it was the weekend. When I reached our row, I could see that I would have to be an asshole and kick someone out of our seats. I approached the couple and said as politely as I could, “Excuse me, but I think you are in our seats,” meekly showing them my ticket. I was greeted by two very different reactions. The man seemed to be terrified; the woman infuriated. Each had a Jumbo popcorn, a large Coke and maybe six or seven bags of Christmas shopping. The very intelligent woman scowled at me and remarked, “Why does it matter where we sit? Sit somewhere else!” What I wanted to say was,
AGONY ANTO
“Well, you dumb bitch – if we sit somewhere else we will be in someone else’s seats. Then we will have to move or force them to sit somewhere else. Then they will have to move, causing a chain reaction of inconvenience all because you are too stupid to read a ticket.” What I actually said, looking at the man, was, “I’m really sorry.” Which basically was his cue to get up. So, with the woman still complaining and the man trying to shush her, they got up. What happened next was just wrong. The man dropped his Coke into one of his shopping bags full of Christmas presents. He then bent down to try to fish it out, knocking his girlfriend’s drink out of her hand, which spilled over the three people in the row in front of her. Then the jumbo popcorn was dropped which stuck to everything that was wet. The people in front were not pleased, as they turned around to the man, who I thought at this point was going to have a heart attack. They gathered their Cokesoaked possessions and tried to find their tickets, as myself and the missus settled into the nowvacant seats. The lights dimmed and I could hear the woman still giving out as I turned to my girlfriend and said, “Good seats, huh?” It turned out the film was shit though. What a waste.
Dah new anthem fer Ireland is fookin massive! “Furst we wore pooer, den we were rich, now we’re pooer again!”
Hi Anto, My finals are in a few weeks and I’m meant to be spending loads of time in the library, Daddy collects me there at 11pm every night. If I don’t get into Smurfit I’m absolutely fucked. All hell will break loose if I get a 2.1. Thing is, Daddy doesn’t know I’ve been hanging round Glenomena with my new hot older boyf. Put it this way: I’m going to fail unless you help. How do you get an easy First? Cheers, Ailbhe xxxoooooxx P.S. I’ll do absolutely anything if you can help me Anthony. Story Ailbhe, Ta fer de photo. Yer a feckin roide! Me number is 087 3456785. Giv us a ring nd oil get ye de Smurfit course. Me mate Deano MBA has a few contacts. Tell de Glenomena head ta feck off - oil roide ya, and get ya into Smurfit. Wa mor day a want? Meet ya at de Smithfield luas stop. Bring us a few Druids wud ya? If ya don’t want to roide Deano as well, bring a mate. (He’s a kinky bastard ya wudn’t want ta roide him.) ‘Til Smithfield, Anto P.S. Juss so ye know now, Oi don’t do johnnies. Dear Anto, Myself and a few mates recently decided to go down and explore the tunnels of UCD. When we got down otwo
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there, we found that all the lights were already on! A bit creepy, but we carried on regardless. Anyway, about halfway through the tunnel, we espied something: radioactive waste! I’m getting a bit worried about this, are UCD scientists harbouring this dangerous substance for money? Is this the cause and effect of why science students don’t pass their second year? Help me please because I have a few friends studying science and I don’t want them to gain superpowers or whatever because that would be so unfair! Yours, Tony Dear Tony, I loike yur name. Anyway, I meself have ventured down der befor, but not for exploratory reasons. Morelike, I was wurrickin for the IRA (don’t tell anywan dough or I’ll bleedin’ killye) and we decided to set sum explosives in de 70s (I was only five years owild den, whippersnapper ee waz). I tink it waz just to kill some hippie fookers. Anyway, it didn’t wurrick ouh cos some homeless people were living der at the time. Long story short: just better off stayin the fook away from the tunnels. I always thought it smelled like shite walking beside the Science building…. maybe dats the reason. Yurs, Anto
The Great Music Debate:
REVIEWS 11
Classical or Contemporary? In the course of a rather intense Facebook conversation, Music Editor Grace Duffy and otwo supremo Colin Sweetman battle their differences… GD: My proposition is to show you that the
modern collusion of contemporary and classical is nothing to be sneered at. In fact, where done correctly, it can be magical. Ergo, I should warn you that while my dear superior has decided to refer to my examples under the blanket term of heavy metal, if I even refer to one so-called heavy metal band I’ll be doing well. This shall be a discussion of the much-maligned symphonic metal – which does not include Evanescence, dear. While I acknowledge that some may find the union of searing guitars, an amp, and an orchestra (digital or otherwise) unusual, bizarre, or downright ridiculous, it’s an absurdly underrated genre. What you’re talking about people, essentially, is the combination of film music – beautiful, soaring, orchestral extravaganzas – with the passion and conviction of guitars. It’s awesome. I just don’t see what the problem is. Now this debate is labouring under a fundamental flaw – that is, the disdain my superior harbours for symphonic metal is not matched by a disdain for classical music. By definition, I love classical music. It laid the foundations for everything that has come since and remains unmatched in scope, idealism, or innovation. I’m extremely partial to a bit of the old Ludwig van, Mozart, and especially Wagner (oh I do love Wagner)… but I also like my classical music embellished.
CS: Bar the fact that I heavily edited the above
soliloquy (I do outrank Grace), I have kept to her main points. Firstly, let it be known that the collusion of heavy metal to its musical artistic counterpart is an agreement brought forward only by the former. Had Beethoven, Mozart, Liszt, Vivaldi, Verdi, Bach and others been alive to witness the atrocity that is befouling their music, I think they would have self-consciously written terribly so such an amalgamation of “music” could never have been
borne. Upon hearing Evanescence (not before mistaking it for a screaming whale), I scramble to turn or hit whatever bastard has scuffled to offend my ears. Heavy Metal and all its counterparts are largely based on repetition of every known quantity. I know this because I used to be fan and a player, until I said in bold lettering: “To hell with this shit”, and turned instead to a more appropriate, refined type of music that has at least a pinch of thought placed into it. Guitars strum the same power chords with the ambition of creating distortion (in other words, not music). Same goes for the drums and singing. To make music, one needs the ability to put math and sound together. To make metal, all you need is a wanker’s wrist and some noisy equipment.
GD: I scorn the notion that a wanker’s wrist is
sufficient to create symphonic metal. Shows how little you get up to with your hands.
CS: I was making the point that skill level in
heavy metal is based on how fast you can stroke a guitar or how fast you can repetitively strike some drums.
GD: This reminds me of the whole maths bias in school – where you’re simply not a genius until you’re good at maths, no matter how good you are at everything else. So you’re evidently not a good musician unless you can make sweet love to a piano.
CS: What does that even mean? I’m applying
stylistic elements of composition to music and you’re comparing geeks in math class. Stay on topic!
GD: Get down off your classical-ist pedestal. A
lot of heavy music still involves, as you term it, ‘stylistic’ elements of composition. You can’t write a ten-minute metal song accompanied by a full orchestral suite without having some degree of otwo
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expertise on the classics.
CS: And I’m sure that these heavy metal bands
compose it themselves? As if! They probably hire some goof like me to do it. That or they just compose the most harmonically simple tunes known to man.
GD:Clearly you have never familiarised yourself
with Nightwish. Or Epica. Epica are a better example, actually. If someone is ghost-writing their orchestral parts they’re certainly not being credited. I suppose that is the advantage of having a classically trained pianist as part of the band. It is possible to write both!
CS:Ah! You’ve named two bands who have
actively stolen off classical composers. They’re not credited because the statute of limitations has run out on them, so technically they are in the public domain. Plus, they’re shite.
GD: Define ‘stolen’. And if you’re going to bring
legalese into this, then use better arguments than that ‘they’re shite’.
CS: Most would agree I think. And that’s that, argument won.
GD: Majority rules eh? Then actual musical sales will hold that Jedward owns both of us.
CS: While I agree with that statement, think about this: no one will know who Jedward are in twenty years, whereas Bach and Vivaldi are still actively spoken of. Their music will be played many more times than those two.
GD: Hmm... technically you can’t use age as a justifying argument when our two genres are separated by about two hundred years. That’s giving you a ludicrous advantage.
CS: Well I should just stop arguing then, I think! GD: Haha. You lose.
12 GO TWO
Tales from the Rails
Interrailing: still a student’s rite of passage, or something of a cliché? Alison Lee shares her advice on making the most from your trip
H
opping from one city to another by train has the potential to make for an incredible few weeks, but some people’s tales of interrailing can’t help but make you wonder whether they really made the most of a trip to Europe. I speak of the folks who book a flight to one city and a flight home from another, then simply drink their way across the continent on a month-long bender. OK, there’s the occasional call into McDonalds for a Big Mac or a few hours spent trailing from hostel to hostel, trying to find rooms. But if the thought of such an interrailing experience makes you shudder, then start planning ahead now and put some thought into what could well be one of the best holidays you’ll ever have – it’ll be worth it in the end.
Planning Ahead
‘Global’ and ‘One Country’ interrailing passes are available from the USIT Ireland website, allowing a certain number of journeys within a certain period of time. My friends and I opted for a global pass that allowed five days of travel within a ten-day period, and planned a two-week trip around this – mainly because our funds wouldn’t stretch any further. Other options are available; check out http://short. ie/aianjy for details. Next: where to go? We pored over a map of Europe and chose four cities based on the observation that they lay in a
roughly straight line: thus Krakow, Vienna, Prague and Budapest became our destinations of choice. Despite my hatred of the airline, I succumbed to peer pressure and booked cheap Ryanair flights to Krakow and home from Budapest. The thought of arriving hungover and footsore to a city only to be faced with the task of finding accommodation wasn’t a pleasant
in thunderstorms in Vienna, and it drizzled in a disappointingly Irish fashion in Budapest and Krakow. Besides, there’s a certain weird thrill in looking like a complete gimp among cosmopolitan, glamorous Europeans. Aside from that, use your common sense and don’t panic over hair straighteners and high heels.
“Put some thought into what could well be one of the best holidays you’ll ever have – it’ll be worth it in the end” one, so we decided to organise hostels in advance too. HostelWorld. com is indispensable on this front: not only can you easily book hostels (after reading fellow travellers’ reviews), but you can print off handy city guides which advise on where to eat, visit, and how to get around.
What to bring
Backpacks are unwieldy, heavy and unnecessary if you only need to get your luggage from a train station to a hostel. Save them from where you’re actually on safari, and opt instead for a simple wheely case for your journey. Raingear is a must-have: yes, I mean those little fold-up raincoats in a zippy bag. Even in summer we were caught otwo
Where to stay
You can be as cheap as you like on this front, especially once you get east of Germany. We splashed out in Vienna, as the city is reasonably expensive in general and we didn’t want to be stuck in a dive for four nights – so Wombat’s Hostel became our temporary abode. With a bar, internet, and kitchen, not to mention hordes of friendly fellow interrailers, it was well worth the extra cash. The Goodbye Lenin hostel in Krakow was cheap, cheerful and also boasted a bar. The Bridge Hostel in Prague (named for its proximity to the famous Charles Bridge) looked suspiciously like some dude’s apartment as opposed to a hostel, but was clean, spacious and smack-bang in the centre of the 30.03.10
city’s action. Our Budapest hostel, Buda Base, was the only dodgy one: this time it most certainly was just some dude’s apartment, definitely lacking on the privacy front. But at roughly €8 a night, with a view of the Danube and free rollerblades, what’s there to complain about? Dorms are cheaper than private rooms and a great way to get to know your fellow travellers; but book into a private room now and then if you need some peace and quiet.
Getting Around
Public transport is bad enough in Ireland, let alone countries where you don’t speak the language. We invested in “Vienna cards” in Vienna, which allowed us use of the metro system – luckily, as the city is pretty big. Everywhere else we slummed it on foot, as the touristy sights were all located conveniently close together in the city centre. Save some cash for a taxi home to the airport, though: by the end of our trip we were far too weary to navigate trams, metros and buses in our less-than-perfect Hungarian.
What to eat
Avoid western chains and eat local! This can be difficult on the cheap, especially outside the eurozone where enterprising locals like to cash in on confused tourists fumbling with zloty and koruna. But the value on offer if you take a ten-minute stroll from the tourist
traps can surprise you. Some hostels include breakfast – if so, eat as much and as late as possible to keep you going for the day! Krakow is awash with street vendors selling pretzels and fresh cherries, whilst the Wombat Hostel was situated in Vienna’s Turkish quarter, meaning we could gorge on falafel to our hearts content. If your hostel is equipped with a kitchen just cook for yourself, but try to reserve enough cash for dinner in a proper restaurant in each city you visit.
What to see
In Krakow, the Wawal Royal Castle’s armour museum boasted a collection of swords, spears, guns, and battleaxes that would keep any twisted sadist amused for hours on end. Stop and coo over the cuddly denizens of Vienna Zoo, located in the grounds of the Schönbrunn Palace. The Hundertwasserhaus, also in Vienna, is a colourful, eccentric example of modern architecture that’s definitely worth a trip out of the city centre to admire. In Prague take your inner child to the second-largest toy museum in the world, situated in Prague Castle.
And after all this sightseeing you’ll definitely need a nice long soak in one of the thermal baths dotted all over the city of Budapest.
Going Out
Droves of students descend on these cities in summer; thus, nightclubs, live venues and pubs have sprung up literally everywhere. (Beware if topless bars and strip clubs aren’t your thing though: not all of the bars are what you’d call “classy”.) Prague definitely steals the top spot for nightlife, boasting the five-story Karlovy Lazne nightclub on the Vltava river and jazz and blues clubs on every street. The summer isn’t that far away now, and once the hurdle of exams is over we’ll all need to de-stress. Although maybe a little old-fashioned, an interrailing trip really is a cheap way to see some of the most amazing cities in the world. With just a little thought and planning ahead your trip can be as blissfully stress-free as that post-exam Sunday morning liein that awaits us all so very soon…
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GO TWO
13
The Heart of
EUROPE
I
t is home to the Council of Europe, the workplace of hundreds of officials representing 47 countries, the European Court of Human Rights and the European Parliament, to name but a few additions to Strasbourg’s illustrious tradition as city of international repute. The subject of a violent Franco-German tug-of-war over the centuries, the near constant political turbulence has made Strasbourg a hotbed for innovation and intellectual enquiry. It was one of most important centres for Humanism and religious reform during the Renaissance, and the birthplace of Gutenberg’s printing press. Its University, founded in 1631, is the alma mater of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Nobel prizewinning philosopher Albert Schweitzer. To kick off a day-trip to Strasbourg, you could do worse than to pay a visit to one of the many Winstubs, a local variant of the French bistro, and try a delicious tarte flambée, choucroute or baeckeoffe – all local specialties. Heartily fed and watered, why not take to the waters of the river Ill (a tributary of the Rhine), on one of the glass-topped tour boats for an hour-long cruise at the morethan-reasonable price of €8? This
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is surely the most relaxing way of taking in the easy charm of the city, enlivened by a multilingual commentary replete with fascinating historical tidbits. A veritable trip through the ages, it would be possible to forget what century you’re in as you float languidly by the tile roofed and timber framed houses of the Petite France, where millers, tanners, and fishermen plied their trade of old. Possible, that is, until after passing the romantic covered bridges and stately imperial German architecture, when you come to the European Quarter with its boldly modern buildings housing contemporary institutions. Particularly impressive is the colossal, aweinspiring European Parliament building – tours of which, unfortunately, are only available in groups of fifteen or more. When the Parliament is in session, however, debates can be observed by any visitor. Stroll down any of the inviting, bric-a-brac streets of the UNESCO heritage listed ‘grand island’ and marvel at the striking 142-metre high Gothic Cathedral, then end your day in L’italia Palais de la Glace just off the cathedral square, where the hot chocolate goes down a treat on a winter evening. David Uwakwe
TOO TIRED TO KICK ASS
After the glitz-ridden London premiere of his new film Kick-Ass the night before, Aaron Johnson proves a slightly lethargic subject for our Jake O’Brien
A
s interviews go, this was something slightly out of the ordinary. With the mid-interview voices of his costars Christopher Mintz-Plasse and Chloe Moretz wafting down the corridor, I was given fifteen minutes in a plush hotel room on the first floor of the fivestar Merrion Hotel with Aaron Johnson, star of the upcoming superhero comedy Kick-Ass. Entering the room, I couldn’t help but notice how dark it was. A grey tone saturated the room, emanating nothing but weather-worn weariness. Aaron, an unassuming 19-year-old actor, stood politely to shake my hand and then proceeded to slump back drearily onto the large green couch from whence he came.
How alert he was became a deeply questionable assertion. Understandably, these infuriating press junkets are beginning to take their toll. “We’re gettin’ through it, man. We’ve still got like another month to go... Then we go to France, Germany, Spain, and then when we go to America we gotta do... Miami, Chicago, LA, San Fran...” Certainly, this is an aspect of fame and fortune that I do not envy. Regardless, we press on. As anyone who hasn’t been living under a mountain will know, Kick-Ass is a tongue-in-cheek deconstruction of the superhero genre, both liturgically and otherwise. Johnson plays the lead role of Dave Lizewski, a stereotypical high school teenager, brimming with comic angst against a world that refuses to acknowledge the morality contained within the otwo
pages of the infamous collections within its canon. On top of this, Lizewski retains an overdeveloped crush on the token pretty/ popular girl of the school, Katie Deauxma, played aptly by Desperate Housewives star Lyndsy Fonseca. In preparing for the role, Johnson had to closely scrutinise the superhero genre, picking and choosing where his inspiration was to come from. While this is not a hard thing to do for a man of such a generation, he nonetheless pins down a veritable smorgasbord of superhuman collaborations. “Spiderman plays a huge part, as in ‘With no power comes no responsibility’ [sic] – he takes the moment... Throughout the film there’s all these sort of clichéd moments, plays on words and things with a twist. We just grabbed a 30.03.10
“Johnson seems to be keeping his feet firmly on the turf – even if he is plying his trade by becoming a buildinghopping hero”
whole load of stuff... X-Men. Wolverine was a big superhero I liked... and Batman, I used to have the whole box set of it. We tried to make him different, like something you’d never seen before.” Of course, the protagonist is like nothing we’ve ever seen before. The uncanny resemblance to other films of this post-teenage ilk cannot be denied – but where director
Matthew Vaughn takes the tone of the film is somewhere much, much darker. “It’s teenage high school humour mixed with dark, messedup violence,” utters Johnson in the production notes. “To me, its Superbad meets Kill Bill.” Indeed, the slapstick humour at work within the film poses a much more aggressive attitude than those that have gone before it. While Superbad merely had Jonah Hill being knocked over by a car, Kick Ass would have its lead brutally beaten, sadistically stabbed, and only then finding his way in front of an oncoming vehicle. Combine this with the shock-andawe factor lent to the script by its extreme – but amusing – vulgarity, and we are left with a film that is sure to please the masses. Johnson, who has worked with such acclaimed members of the artistic community as Edward Norton in The Illusionist, playing Norton’s younger self, and director Sam Taylor-Wood on Nowhere Boy, speaks highly of his co-star Nicolas Cage, who portrays rogue vigilante Big Daddy. “He’s brilliant... a really great guy. He’s just inspirational, because he really just brings his character away off the page and
with and a lot to stand up against. However, the intensity that is Strong is combated by his apparent real-life persona: “He’s a family man. He’s just a sweetheart... he’s known in the business for just being a gentle man; he just seems to always play these baddies... fucking great actor.” Getting into to the thick of things, the actor and I come to discuss the possibility of moral leanings throughout the film. Whether or not it is immediately evident upon a first glance of the piece is irrelevant as it is exists beyond a shadow of a doubt. In particular is the entire back story and subsequent representation of Hit Girl (Moretz). Her childhood is shrouded in misfortune and unhappiness. From the death of her mother to the shuffleboard that is her paternal figureheads, an audience is granted a rare opportunity in mainstream cinema to create their own interpretation of an ethical conclusion on the matters of lost innocence and retroactive parenting through gritty, vengeful violence. “The whole back-story of Mindy (Moretz) and the Dad (Cage), and how he got put in prison and why he’s back for revenge... they’re on a
does his Adam West impersonation. He’s just funny, man. You’ve gotta be bold to make choices like that... only people like Nick would have the ability to do that.” Joining Cage’s inspirational performance with that of the lead villain Frank D’Amico, played with huge presence by Mark Strong, Aaron had a lot to work
revenge kill. Well Big Daddy is, and he brainwashes Mindy in this comic book vibe so she becomes this sort of fearless kid. Y’know, when you tell kids to do something... they just go out there and don’t have any sense of danger.” On this level, Johnson brings together the input of Kick Ass
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creators Mark Millar and John Romita, Jr. along with Vaughn’s own “take no bullshit or prisoners” attitude and comes to a playing field where reality itself becomes unclear. As Aaron’s character slips further and further into his role as Kick Ass, the demarcations between the two worlds of innocence and high school; violence and heroics becomes undetermined and certainly unclear. “For Dave Lizewski, who brought up this whole superhero vibe that became quite famous... It’s something that he believes in and he’s passionate for, so he wanted to go out and do the thing that he really loved doing. It’s all about being someone different and being this confident, heroic guy. So his persona’s in that, and it gets outta hand really... you get carried away with it and you get back brought into reality again. So it brings you round so that all your senses are heightened.” For Aaron Johnson, this reality check could indeed be applicable to his true to life situation. Being so young and being bombarded by outrageous media scrutiny over a personal life that bears no real significance to his professional career would certainly give one the impression that a quiet slip out of a spotlight reality in a costume would be an agreeable turn of events. Nevertheless, the actor retains a pervasive air of solidity in his personality. A firm handshake and a respect for those around him seems to be keeping his feet firmly on the turf – even if he is plying his trade by becoming a buildinghopping hero. As I am lured into a false sense of security regarding the star’s degree of consciousness, the clear and present danger becomes evident. Johnson is fading. Fast. His promotional tour is gaining on him and his eyelids are following shortly thereafter. “We just got in from the premiere in London and I’ve had like three hours sleep in the last... eh... 48 hours.” Our time is up and the door is set ajar. It ends as it begins: stand, shake and a thank you from both parties. One must respect such a level of modest gratitude from such a tired individual. Aaron Johnson is granted release as I am the last in a marathon parade of journalists and radio presenters... in Dublin, anyway. Kick-Ass is in cinemas now.
16 FASHION
The
Masters and the Muses
As the relationship between the designers and their muses comes once again to the fore, Amy Walsh charts the relationship between icons of style and the fusion of creativity that inspired them use. Later launched as a popular perfume, L’Interdit was marketed with a picture of Hepburn and the tagline: “Once she was the only woman in the world allowed to wear this perfume.” This was the first time an actress’s face had marketed a perfume, and was a momentous event. This collaboration highlights the very personal friendship forged between Audrey and Hubert, but it also demonstrates the pair’s impact on style and popular culture. Hepburn remained a front row inhabitant at Givenchy’s shows late into her life – a testimony to their legendary alliance – yet the final appraisal of this partnership does not lie in the pair themselves, but on their influential embodiment of what it is to be stylish.
Balmain – Michael Jackson
Givenchy – Audrey Hepburn
When Audrey Hepburn walked through Hurbert Givenchy’s door in 1953, a style was born. The novice French couturier, in the process of constructing his new collection, was interrupted by a visit from “Ms Hepburn”. As it transpired, it was not the famous Katherine, but Audrey who greeted him. The beautiful starlet, turned down by Cristobal Balenciaga, sought Givenchy to design her costumes for her role in Hitchcock’s upcoming Sabrina. Slightly abashed, Givenchy declined the offer but allowed her to take what she wished from his previous collections. These pieces, as chosen by Audrey, were to become some of her most celebrated looks. Sabrina’s beautiful white dress on
the tennis court, as well as the black sleeveless dress with tiny bows on the shoulder became iconic pieces exhibiting the chic sophistication of the rising starlet. This film captured the imagination of the public and forged an association between Audrey and her apparel that would continue to be nurtured by Givenchy – and thus begin the forty year relationship between the famously quoted muse and her master. Continuing to design for some of her most celebrated film roles, Givenchy’s pieces featured in Love in the Afternoon (1957) and Funny Face (1957) – but it’s in Breakfast at Tiffany’s (1961) that Givenchy’s famous black silk dress, designed for Hepburn, inspired the classic otwo
ideal of “the little black dress”. By the time Hepburn took the lead in the acclaimed My Fair Lady (1964) Givenchy had secured his place in the fashion industry, supported by innovative concepts like “separates” and later, a luxury ready-to-wear line. As Audrey ascended the path to Hollywood stardom, Givenchy’s beautiful tailoring adorned her. As Hubert’s collections and repertoire grew, Hepburn as his on screen ambassador epitomised the hallmarks of Givenchy’s collections; femininity, elegance and uncompromising style. Givenchy became a virtuoso in dressing women. In 1957 Givenchy developed L’Interdit, a unique fragrance created for Hepburn’s personal 30.03.10
Michael Jackson’s relationship with Balmain was short-lived, but nonetheless a dazzling affair. In 2009 Jackson was preparing his series of This Is It concerts at London’s O2, his first major succession of concerts since the HIStory World Tour ended in 1997. Heralded as his greatest comeback yet, the King of Pop was cast once again into the media spotlight – and it was here that he began flirting with Balmain. Jackson had already become a style icon in the 1980s with dramatic avant-garde stage costumes with white socks, tight-fitting jeans and single glove, along with styles that have had a more lasting influence on fashion trends, such as the military jacket. It was during 2009 that Jackson re-entered fashion circles, sporting a studded black blazer and print cropped pants from Balmain’s
McQueen, modelling an original black empress gown detailed with feathers and lace and topped off with a crystal encrusted facemask. Björk took centre stage, performing her song ‘Bachelorette’ as McQueen’s creations glided around her.
FASHION 17 throughout the video, exuding all that is strange and wonderful about Björk’s music. Often donning his extravagant dresses during her
“As Audrey ascended the path to Hollywood stardom, Givenchy’s beautiful tailoring adorned her” McQueen designed other statement pieces for the Icelandic rocker’s video ‘Who Is It’, a single released off the album Medúlla. Filmed amidst the Icelandic landscape, McQueen’s silver hourglass creation features
previous fall and spring collections. Despite the items in question being designed for women, Jackson rocked the look. As Jackson continued to exhibit retro-styled Balmain t-shirts, media hype grew about the label’s revival, paralleling that of Jackson himself. It is no coincidence that Balmain – headed by the recently installed designer Christophe Decarnin – was enjoying a newfound popularity with magazines, runway and celebrities. Everyone from Beyoncé to Penelope Cruz wore Balmain. Jackson’s notoriety effortlessly influenced popular culture, something the fashion house benefitted greatly from. The This Is It documentary captured Jackson during his rehearsals for the massive stage show, and Balmain features extensively. Highlights include a crystal adorned tuxedo and a red leather motorbike jacket with diamante detailed shoulders. Balmain’s retro edge met Jackson’s theatrical brilliance, drawing all the right sort of attention from the camera. Sadly Jackson died on June 25th, 2009, before the potential of This is It could be realised, while Balmain would thrive on the publicity adorning the star in his final months. Although Jackson failed to go out with the bang
This is It promised, he went out in Balmain – nothing less stylish could be expected from the king of pop himself.
Alexander McQueen - Björk
When the notorious enfant terrible of British Fashion met Björk, there was a fruitful meeting of minds. Björk proved to be Alexander McQueen’s perfect mannequin, encapsulating his brilliantly theatrical couture, emanating all of McQueen’s theatrical values and raw, rebellious creativity, and so they joined forces. When commissioning McQueen to design the cover for her Homogenic album in 1997, Björk told him that the person who wrote these songs “had to become a warrior. A warrior who had to fight not with weapons, but with love.” This is reflected in the iconic cover, modelled by Björk herself. McQueen went on to direct the video for ‘Alarm Call’, a single released from the album. As Björk writhes around a bamboo raft, her peach lace dress exudes style. The culmination of this fantastic collaboration is captured at the first Fashion Rocks in 2003, a charity event which sees famous designers exhibiting to the tune of the latest popular music acts. That first year saw Björk in crown-to-toe otwo
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performances, Björk pulls off Mc Queen’s couture like few people can. There was never a dull moment in this famed collaboration. Exuberance, fantasy, drama –Björk and the late McQueen had much in common.
18 FASHION
wax on, wax off
T
Pain is beauty. Beauty is pain. Seán McGovern takes a look at the sticky situation of male grooming
he feminisation of the male has created some masculinised equivalents of things we’d normally associate with women. In less lofty terms, it means that men have tried their very best to make things sound just that little less girly. Usually, They fail. Guyliner is still eyeliner, and manscaping? Well manscaping, with all its silliness, is something we should welcome. The modern man should have no trouble in tending to his own wilderness. If any man gets uncomfortable about talking about keeping himself trim, he’s a loser and deserves never to get laid. There’s really no excuse you can have for having to comb your back, unless you’re with someone who gets off on back hair. (If you are, stop reading. You two deserve each other.) This could easily be a an ‘otwo attempts’ page, but that would make it sound like something bizarre and frightening that one should only do for a bet. Male waxing shouldn’t be – and isn’t – something to fear. It’s an extension of a hygiene regime, and though it can be expensive, it’s a much more effective treatment than shaving. Waxing takes less time, and doesn’t involve you squatting over a mirror with a trimmer (or God forbid, the kitchen scissors). Before we get into the murky water of sexism, a crosssection survey of women will yield the result that they don’t remove their body hair to please a man, but to please themselves. The general female consensus is that they don’t like their underarm hair, so why keep it if you don’t like it? While a man with no underarm hair is rare (and this author doesn’t suggest that all body hair is unnatural or unsightly), if a man has quite a large amount of body hair in one or more areas and doesn’t like it, why not remove it? Just like dressing a certain way, you should never do it to please someone else – you should do it to please yourself. Stephen Thomas on Dame St is Dublin’s only exclusively male grooming clinic. The fact that it’s for men only means that there’s nothing these groomers haven’t seen before. Many grooming clinics do not even offer men’s treatments, as intimate waxing is something one woman understands for another. Male body hair is a horse of a different colour, however, and Stephen Thomas
offers a wide range of services for every area of the man where hair can grow, including chest, back, ass and crack. The ‘back, sack and crack’ treatment is the most popular rhyming wax there is – and even if you don’t have hair in these three areas, there are other treatments and deals that focus on the areas where you might, all at a range of extremely fair prices. The waxing process begins with the patch test which takes place twenty-four hours before the actual wax. These tests are mandatory: removing a patch of hair from the areas to be treated reveals if the customer’s skin is suitable for a full wax. When the initial redness goes down, it easy to tell if the skin is compatible, and for most people it is. The wax used is a combination of normal hair removal ingredients as well as skin friendly oils and plant extracts. As for the experience itself… Well, there’s pain. But it’s quick and often humorous. The feeling is akin to the sensation you get stepping into really cold water, where you’ll make little gasps for air, as if winded. It makes for interesting situations when you’re lying with your ass in the air getting asked where you’re planning on going on holidays. “Well - hyahh - I was thinking of - hyahhh - going somewhere with the - hyahh - lads.” If you go with an open mind, you won’t care about finding yourself in bizarrely intimate positions you would only otherwise encounter after a very messy weekend on Buckfast. In the clinic you’ll be smoothed with an antiseptic ointment of tea tree and eucalyptus, which closes the pores. The after-treatment is simple – simply allow the skin heal for 24 hours by not exposing it to any soap or water, so as to let it calm naturally. By the third day, you’ll need to exfoliate to encourage the hairs to grow back slowly at a natural pace, and to prevent any ingrown hairs. The results last up to six weeks – and while you may feel colder with all that hair removed, your clothes will fit better, your skin can breathe better when it sweats – and ultimately, if you get rid of hair that’s really bothering you you’ll feel so much better. That’s the real reason to do it. Now be a man, shut up, and get your crack waxed. Stephen Thomas Male Grooming, 64 Dame Street, Dublin 2. Tel (01) 672 9444
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“There’s really no excuse you can have for having to comb your back, unless you’re with someone who gets off on back hair”
Érin go blah Why is it, asks Conor Barry, that the Irish have the gift of the gab but can’t host a decent TV chat show? Why is it that the Irish television media don’t quite know what to do when presented with a major celebrity? Despite our unbeatable skills in other areas (such as… I don’t know, hurling?) it’s fair to say that, on the whole, we’re a bit shit when it comes to chatting with celebrities. Nowhere is this more prevalent than The Late Late Show. Now, don’t get me wrong – nobody’s here to take the piss out of the Late Late. It’s as ingrained in our culture as the 1916 Rising or getting sick in Abrakebabra after one too many. But when they get an American celebrity guest, something happens that reverts the host to some sort of backwards Irish stereotype (“Are ye in the
pictures in Americay?”). The part that makes me cringe, however, is the fact that Tubridy is trying his darnedest to present an American Late Night Show – and, let’s face it, Tubridy is no Conan O’Brien. The difference is that in America, most talk show hosts are former comedians; they were hired specifically because they’re likable, charming – and, above all, good with people. Tubridy isn’t these things; don’t get me wrong, I quite like Tubridy. But his celebrity interviews go one of two ways: it’ll either be unnecessary fluff (a full three minutes of Samuel L Jackson chatting about golf) or else he’ll go shockingly close to the bone (“So, Michael Palin, I hear your
sister killed herself ”) and never managing to find a happy medium. However, I do have to say that he is by far my favourite Late Late Toy Show host. While Gay Byrne never seemed to get children, and Pat Kenny just seemed confused as why the children weren’t chatting about politics, Tubridy slyly insults them without their knowledge for two hours. I’m a huge Late Late fan (not that I actually watch it on a Friday night, because there’s quite a pathetic stigma attached to that when you’re in your twenties). I don’t think there’s any other show quite like it in the world, and it has a distinctively Irish stamp. But, at the same time, I’m a big fan of the Jay
Tiger Tantrums
tomfoolery ensuing (thankfully, not between her and her son). But nobody needs to see an old bird leering after young men, even if the premise of the show is such. The premiere episode begins with the audience becoming introduced to Cox’s character, Jules, after a shower where she uncompromisingly exposes her ‘wobbly bits’ to those who dare gaze upon a naked fortysomething. We are immediately aware of Jules’s dissatisfaction with her lack of sex life and intimacy through comparison with her mundanely-but-happily married neighbour and best friend, Ellie, and her purposefully younger and headstrong assistant, Laurie, played by Busy Philipps. Personally I preferred Phillips as Kim Kelly in Freaks and Geeks, when she would’ve beaten you up for hitting on her boyfriend, rather than trying to set Courtney Cox up with him, but
Aileen Johnson offers a hand to Cougar Town, and gets bitten for her trouble Seriously, Courtney Cox – learn to quit. Age does not connote wisdom, it would seem. In her latest outing, Cougar Town, a divorcée re-enters the dating world while supporting her 17-yearold son, with much older woman, younger guy
Lenos and Conan O’Briens of the world. While it’s an admittedly different format, it’s one that England managed to adopt quite well and make its own – even stealing our Graham Norton to do it. Our closest attempt at a celebrity chat show is Xposé, which is depressing in itself. Do we have no charming comedians to make our own Irish Conan O’Brien? Perhaps Conan O’Brien himself, being pretty Irish, could fill those shoes
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TELLYRAND 19 considering he’s been sacked from his own show Stateside. Indeed UCD’s own Jarlath Regan could be a good man for the job. This is all just wishful thinking, though. It’s been The Late Late for as long as anyone can remember, and that’s how it’s going to stay. Still, give me The Late Late’s awkward celebrity interviews over Xposé’s any day.
that’s what the people want, I guess. So to address the issue of a potential romance, enter Jules’ neighbour Greyson – who sleeps with younger women because he can – with a line which sums him up perfectly: “It’s not a walk of shame if you don’t do it alone.” Greyson is the male character that housewives will love to hate in that ‘oh-isn’t-he-just-aaaaaawful’ way – a complete antagonist to Cox, but one who is transparently and inevitably going to become her love interest. In fact, all the show’s male characters are presented in a demeaning light with the exception of Cox’s son Travis, who evades this fate simply because he is sufficiently humiliated by his wayward mother. Who wants to see their mother performing fellatio on a young gentleman stranger? Travis must endure this abuse from schoolmates too, as Jules’ assistant tries to reintroduce her to the dating world with a saucy real estate poster campaign. Amongst all these negative comments, I will concede the one guffaw I got. On Laurie and Jules’ first night out together – where Cox proves herself more a caricature of a desperate 40-year-old than a person – we see the essence of Kim Kelly in Laurie as she only wears fake nails on her ‘smokin’ hand’. Cougar Town receives a thumbs down from me. Cox fails to impress as a foot-in-mouth nervous older woman, instead coming across as obnoxious and selfish, and not in a funny way. In fact she manages to recreate all the annoying late series Monica traits and exaggerate them to the point of cringing. Maybe I’m missing something in this men-versus-menopause debacle, but I doubt it. Cougar Town airs on RTE Two, Mondays at 9pm.
20 FILM & TV
Reviews WHIP IT
Director: Drew Barrymore Cast: Ellen Page, Kristen Wiig, Alia Shawat In Cinemas: 9th April Drew Barrymore assembles a strong ensemble of comedic actresses for her directorial debut led by Juno star Ellen Page. Page stars as Bliss Cavendar, a teenager attending blue bonnet pageants to please her mother while plotting her escape from her 1950s Texan hometown. A shopping trip to that liberal enclave, Austin, sees her encounter the fishnets wearing, eyeliner dripping members of the Texas Roller Derby. So begins a secret life playing for perennial losers the Hurl Scouts, led by Maggie Mayhem
and Smashley Simpson (Barrymore’s ridiculous supporting role). Adopting the name Babe Ruthless, Bliss – as the fastest skater on the team, whose job is to pass other players – soon propels them to success and a rivalry with the reigning champions. Saturday Night Live’s Kristen Wiig is surely only one decent role away from being a film star – following Adventureland, she is once again wonderful in support as Bliss’s self-proclaimed ‘cool aunt’ figure Maggie Mayhem. Only Maggie and Smashley are depicted as having a life outside the rink, but that’s a minor quibble when life inside the rink receives so much screentime (augmented by Barrymore’s ultra-violent choreography of the bone-crunching plays designed to take out rival skaters). It probably helped to have Tarantino’s favourite stuntwoman Zoe Bell around. The plot mechanics creak in the second act,
as Bliss falls for a pretty boy rocker and becomes estranged from best pal Pash (Shawat) and her mother, but this is redeemed by a pleasingly subversive finale. Barrymore, unsurprisingly as an actress-turned-director, coaxes fine performances from all the cast, especially the two most important males – Andrew Wilson’s exasperated coach and Daniel Stern’s supportive father – and even manages to rein in Marcia Gay Harden’s usual histrionics to give a real sense of the fraught love between mother and daughter. Amid all the debate about Kathryn Bigelow’s Oscar for a macho film, it’s nice to see Barrymore quietly assemble a talented female cast to take on such a traditionally male genre and to do this a good job of subverting expectations. Whip It is not a great film, but it’s an awful lot of fun – and signals Barrymore as a director of note as well as a star actress.
CEMETERY JUNCTION Directors: Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant Starring: Christian Cooke, Felicity Jones, Tom Hughes In Cinemas: 14th April As the first feature film by Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant, many will be eagerly anticipating the release of Cemetery Junction. The pair are the Marmite of comedy writers, with as many loyal and devoted fans as blood-spitting trolls misspelling comments on YouTube. I never really took to The Office myself – some of the situations were just too cringey; I ended up diving behind the sofa every five minutes and watching through the gaps in my fingers. I was slightly
worried when I went to view Cemetery Junction - diving behind a cinema seat can be awkward – but my fears were unfounded: It’s as funny and clever as anything they’ve written but without any seat-squirming humiliation. Cemetery Junction is about wanting to escape and wanting to do something with your life, and it evokes the feeling perfectly. Set in Reading in the 1970s, Freddie Taylor wants more out of life than his parents have, and leaves the factory his Dad works in for a job as a suit wearing, doorto-door life insurance salesman. As he struggles to balance his ambitions with small town life, and the expectations of his background, he and his friends figure out what they want from life and how to just live. It sounds awfully sugary, but it isn’t: it’s touching but very delicately otwo
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handled. There’s nothing harrowing – they are just hardworking people with individual takes on their lot, and its poignancy lies in its simplicity. Being set in ‘the past’ it has some stylistic similarities with TV programs like Mad Men and Life on Mars – i.e. lots of smoking and outdated attitudes – but manages to avoid beating you over the head with the usual message: “Look how funny we are with our ironic sexism and lung cancer! Wasn’t the past just full of pricks?”, it treats the era with affection, if not actual nostalgia. It’s a time gone by, and perhaps thankfully so, but these were people with lives and hopes and dreams and deserving of respect. Your background may affect your lifestyle but it doesn’t change your heart.
Kick Ass Dave Lizewski (Johnson), an idealistic teenager with an unhealthy obsession for comic books, decides he has had enough of good people being mistreated by thugs and general bad guys. Kick Ass, his adopted superhero name, proceeds to squeeze into a green and yellow scuba diving suit, garnished with two batons and a taser. Frustrated by unrequited teenage love and compelled to ‘do the right thing’, our hero launches into a melancholy offensive on the seedy underbelly of NYC. Along the way he encounters savage beatings, foul language and the righteous violence in the form of a familial tag team of masked vigilantes. Big Daddy (Cage) and his daughter, Hit Girl (Mortez), dispense their murderous brand of justice in an effort to eventually get to the big bad that is Frank D’Amico (Mark Strong), a villainous cocaine honcho who was inadvertently responsible for the death of Hit Girl’s mother and Big Daddy’s wife. And here comes the punch line... Unfortunately there is rarely a conclusion to any of the jokes in this adaptation of Mark Millar’s ongoing 2008 comic book of the same name. Directed by Matthew Vaughn, producer of Britflicks Lock Stock and Snatch, Kick Ass develops itself as an incohesive blend of hardcore slapstick, permeable pastiche and superhuman idealism. The direction is indeed witty, borrowing
Director: Hayao Miyazaki Starring: Noah Cyrus, Frankie Jonas, Matt Damon In cinemas: February 12th heavily from other filmic jaunts of this ilk such as Superbad and most of anything else featuring Michael Cera. While the characters are believable, even psychologically well rounded at times, their capacity for violence and its consequences is lost somewhere in the muddled narrative. Hence, while the brutality is initially shocking and frantically hilarious, it fades into a senseless, poorly choreographed mishmash of mixed morality and juxtaposed ideals. Dishing up moments of genuine hilarity, Cage forges an interesting dialectic of Adam West with William Shatner, coming to a stammeringly brilliant synthesis. His sidekick and daughter Hit Girl, displays the mirror opposite of the expected Little Miss Sunshine sentiments. Her foul mouth has already attracted the attention of an Australian family group. However, the moment in question is merely a hysterical side note to her otherwise charmingly corrupted persona. Hit Girl’s innocence does raise a series of ethical queries though. Given one fleeting exchange between Cage and his former partner, we are left with unfulfilled issues as to the justice in the loss of the girl’s childhood. Jake O’Brien
FILM & TV 21
WORST SUPERHERO FILMS
In the midst of the arrival of Kick-Ass to blow the minds of the movie-going populace, Breffni O’Sullivan looks back at some misfiring superhero movies 10. Spider-Man 3 Extravagance ahoy! A movie that truly exemplifies that excess, when mishandled, leads to gluttony. Stuck with the unenviable task of bettering his previous two Spidey epics, Sam Raimi – through studio and corporate interference – provides a film overburdened with action, villains, story, conversations and spandex, laced with a groan-inducing wave of patriotism. Oh and EmoSpiderman. 9. Superman Returns Superman reruns. I couldn’t think of anything else to add for this limpwristed, largely aimless regurgitation of everything else you’ve ever seen in a Superman movie so here’s what I would have said if “Hulk” had been on this list; “You won’t like him when he’s Ang Lee.” See, that was much better. 8. X-Men Origins: Wolverine A bitter disappointment from Academy Award-winning director Gavin Hood which succeeded in both making expensive special effects look cheap and throwing logic, gravity and the redeeming qualities of a short Canadian lumberjack’s epic sideburns completely out the window – in favour of a complete mishandling of the source material and a bitterly wasted opportunity to return to the heights of X-Men and X-Men 2. Magneto’s up next, kids. Oh joy. 7. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 3 Don’t get me wrong, the Turtles rule. They’re heroes in a half-shell and they’re green. When the evil Shredder didn’t come back, these Turtle boys don’t cut him no slack, yet Michaelangelo continued to be a party dude like a trooper. Gotta love optimism. Terrible plot, bugger-all action and some of the worst costuming you’ve ever seen. 6. The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen Who ordered the exposition? Sadly this is a case of the director trying to cram too much of the source material into a film wherein the good intentions are ruined by shoddy CGI, a complete lack of emotion
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or indeed anything to make the audience really care, and an overinvolved list of studio execs. A sadly squandered opportunity. 5. The Punisher (1990) Everyone’s favourite Dirk Diggler look-alike stars in a movie framed by the cheesiest backdrops, awful fight sequences and just plain boring typecast villains who become allies who become villains again. It’s like watching early 1990s wrestling but with less Bret Hart. And that’s a bad thing, folks. 4. Ghost Rider Nicolas Cage on fire for two hours. Sounds entertaining. It really isn’t. 3. Batman & Robin Thank Christ for Christopher Nolan. Prior to the awesome Batman Begins, our last visit to Gotham city came via Joel Schumacher’s tonguein-cheek ri-cock-ulousity attempting to emulate the campy greatness/ horribleness of Adam West’s TV ‘Batman’ from 1966. Completely devoid of a coherent plot, likeable characters, or an ounce of good dialogue, it is arguably one of the worst scripts ever greenlit and seemed designed to make the audience laugh. They did. Then they cried a little bit. 2. Elektra What happens when you take Jennifer Garner, a woman universally regarded as being lovely, and make her pretend she’s a heartless, soulless killing machine? Well, you get this. Imagine Kill Bill. Gut it of anything that made it great. Invert the remains, and now you have Elektra. Or a particularly bloody casserole. 1. Catwoman Unmitigatedly, unrelentingly, apocalyptically horrendous in every way, except for Halle Berry in a catsuit – though that’s pretty much the only reason this piece of shallow, superficial exercise in celluloidal bullshit was even made. No doubt this’ll be used to quell insurgencies and as a method of torture for years to come. And another thing, where the f**k is Batman? Off doing the knuckledrag dance, probably.
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FILM & TV
The rise of the Superhero ... film With the release of Kick-Ass, Conor Barry takes a spandex-wearing trip down superhero memory lane
I
f the 2000s proved anything it’s that, in the hallowed words of Huey Lewis and the News, it’s hip to be square. Yes, the noughties (and it makes me literally vomit up my dignity to use that term) was very much the decade of the nerd – be it that computer games actually started to be taken seriously by mainstream press, the rise of the internet as a legitimate way to socialise, or that whole Judd Apatow revolution thing opening the floodgates for lovable nerd to fill our screens. But what started it all was Hollywood realising that superheroes were not something to be scoffed at; not something purely that gave geeks something to do on a Saturday night. No, superhero films meant money – a lot of money. It all started with X-Men which, much to the surprise of those crazy Hollywood execs, was shockingly profitable. And why wouldn’t it be? It was cool, a little bit sexy, and it had frickin’ Patrick Stewart as Xavier. Also, Hugh Jackman was literally born and bred to play Wolverine, so much so that I wouldn’t be surprised if those claws are genuinely his own. Hollywood, though, still remained sceptical, curious to see how this whole superhero thing would pan out. Then came along Spiderman, a rip-roaring, web-slinging classic that cemented the genre as something real and not just a passing fad. Spiderman proved that superheroes were most definitely here to stay, and the world went superhero crazy with studios buying up the rights to every comic book imaginable. Unfortunately, the whole idea of what made these films in any way successful seemed to get lost in the process. Simply walking into a comic book shop, picking a hero at random and throwing a couple million dollars at it does not equal a successful film, as many terrible examples have shown. Fantastic Four suffered a pretty abysmal transition, replacing all the main characters with unlikable pricks. Shoving Ben Affleck into the title role of Daredevil sounds like a nice idea for a parody, but unfortunately it was a sincere attempt. Then Fantastic Four raised its arrogant head once again, because apparently one adventure with this team of knobs wasn’t enough. But, in fairness, the Silver Surfer was kind of slick. Also, nerds were getting a bit uppity about having their favourite superheroes literally raped (not literally) through their leap from page to screen. This was a new dilemma that Hollywood had never really encountered before: the fury of the nerds. They had to walk a tightrope of satisfying the die-hard fans while still making it appealing enough for people who had never heard or couldn’t
“Except instead of cowboys we have flying robots and heroic spiders. Checkmate, Westerns” care less about the likes of The Hulk. Watchmen, the holy grail of “mature” comic books – sorry, graphic novels – in particular was going to be destroyed by fans regardless of how good an adaptation it was. Similarly, each Spiderman, Iron Man, and X-Men film has been closely monitored by on overly dedicated following to make sure the filmmakers don’t mess with the minor details, such as the style of the heroes’ costumes, who is cast as the villain, and so on. This huge number of fan demands lead most adaptations to almost ignore them entirely and instead turned into crowd-pleasing mindless action blockbusters that made nerds cry. Having said that, anyone who strayed from the whole “cool action bits with cheesy dialogue formula” was generally shunned as not getting the point of superhero films. For example Unbreakable, starring Bruce Willis, was a fantastically interesting take on what it would be like to be a superhero in a realistic world and is rarely given much credit. Similarly, the original Hulk film had more emotions than explosions so failed to garner much critical acclaim. It wasn’t until Mr Nolan came along and showed everyone how it’s done with Batman Begins, followed by the otwo
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undeniably spectacular Dark Knight, that people sat up and took notice. Superhero films were, and hopefully will be, taken seriously. The whole thing seems to on track at this stage with the majority of superhero films actually being pretty damn good. The likes of Iron Man provide the perfect mix of action and Robert Downey Jr charm, the new Nolan Batman films giving a sort of legitimacy to the genre. The whole superhero thing is roaring on, looking like it’ll be here for a bit, with studios lining up all their franchises and slowly interlinking them with the hopes of cashing in on a huge collaborative film. Next in line are the likes of The Green Lantern, Green Hornet, Green Arrow (noticing a trend here, superheroes?) to mention a few. And now, with the release of Kick-Ass, superhero films have gotten all fancy and post-modern. It looks like the superhero genre is going to be our generation’s Western – hugely popular for our time, but future generations will look back and wonder what all the fuss was about. Except instead of cowboys we have flying robots and heroic spiders. Checkmate, Westerns.
REVIEWS
23
Gastro-Native Inspired by otwo’s trip to the Boxty House, Lynda O’Keeffe investigates the best of Irish native cuisine
BOXTY FOR TEA
Let’s see how good Irish cuisine really is… with Colin Sweetman
With so many people telling me they think I have a meditterrainean complexion, I reckoned I was the best person in the otwo office to examine whether our cuisine is really for the foreign pallet. Gallagher’s Boxty House, located in Temple Bar, is a place for OirishAmerican tourists to get back to their questionable roots, with its wooden (but comfortable) furniture, the backing track of Irish traditional music, and its apparent lack of foreign staff (which is vital for that all-Irish setting). For these reasons, any Dubliner would automatically know that Gallagher’s is specifically catering to eaters of a non-Dublin origin. So, being shown our tables by the tremendously polite waiters and waitresses, we took our seat to dinner on a post-Paddy’s Day evening. The proof of the staff ’s politeness is in the pudding. I overheard some Americans sitting beside us say, “Excuse me waitress, what’s that Oirish drink that young man is drinking? Can we have some of that?” “Ehm, yes, it’s Heineken. I’ll bring some right away,” was her response. I know if I was working there at that time, there would be no possible way I could refrain from laughing. So to me, that’s good service. For starters, myself and partnerin-crime/roommate-to-whom-Iowed-a-dinner ordered Soup of the Day and potato cakes – the latter
being something I am particularly good at eating. Needless to say, they were extremely tasty – the only problem being that there weren’t enough of them. Soup was good too. The main course had to have been one of the strangest meals my eyes have seen. Imagine a pancake wrapped around beef steak, covered in gravy. I’ve eaten ham wrapped around fudge before, but this topped the lot. For the most part, I thought it was tasty and flavoursome, but towards the end I eventually admitted defeat because there was simply too much. Again, my date ordered the salmon, the verdict of which I still need to get, but I remember eyeing it thinking, “I’d love that piece of fish right now.” Dessert was similarly delicious and whoever made it should be beatified. The important thing to remember is that this is the Irish way of doing food. Although strange at first, you should get used to it. I prefer coddle, but went out on the limb and ordered boxty… I’ll know in future though.
Over the years, we as a nation seem to have turned our back on traditional meals in favour of those found further afield. Given the current economic climate and our desire for cheaper food, maybe it’s time we looked closer to home and got reacquainted with some long established foods and our forgotten friend: the spud. Everyone’s had one – in fact, it’s almost impossible to imagine growing up in Ireland without one. It’s the ultimate Mammy dinner: a Sunday roast, surrounded by mountains of veggies, roast potatoes and mash, and swimming in gravy. This food usually comes accompanied with the conversations and sibling squabbles that are part and parcel of Irish family life. Although strictly speaking the dish in question may be technically British, the memories are truly Irish. In my house, bacon and cabbage would sometimes take the starring role on the Sunday night menu. It’s difficult to imagine a more Irish dish than back bacon served with mashed potato and cabbage, and (alas) it’s even more difficult to forget the sound of your relatives singing “I’m a savage for Bacon and Cabbage!” As traditional Irish dishes go, you can’t get much simpler than colcannon. Toss some mashed potato into a bowl with some cabbage (or kale), butter and seasoning. Mix and you’re done! Colannon has a special place in the heart of the Irish, and is even the
otwo ate... Soup - €4.50 Potato Cakes - €6.95 Beef Boxty - €14.95 Salmon - €16.95 Gallagher’s Boxty House, 20-21 Temple Bar, Dublin 2. Tel (01) 677 2762. www.boxtyhouse.ie otwo
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subject matter of a well known trad song called ‘The Skillet Pot’ (or simply, predictably, ‘Colcannon’). Always ones to keep up with old pagan traditions, the Irish would serve this at Halloween, full of various coins or prizes, as we would with brack today. One can only imagine the look on a child’s face when they found a pound coin buried in their mashed potato. Dublin Coddle is a dish that’s always intrigued me. I have always been very pro-bacon and the combination of rashers, sausages, potato and onion seemed like a good thing in the past. However, the meal is prepared by boiling, then steaming the mixture, so that the finished product is a rather gloopy-looking grey soup. Many people have assured me it tastes much nicer than it looks, but I don’t think I’ve got the liathróidí to try it. Now, ladies – you’ll have to roll your sleeves up for this last dish, since the old saying goes: “Boxty on the griddle, Boxty in the pan / If you can’t make boxty, you’ll never get a man.” The womenfolk of Ireland are clearly destined for spinsterhood (a fate worse than death back in the day) if we are unable to get in the kitchen and master the art of the potato pancake. The name itself comes from the Irish word bacstaí, which refers to the cooking method of grilling the shite out of anything that dares come near a griddle pan.
24 UNDERGROUND SOUND
Causing a Fiasco Sally Hayden talks to Northern Irish lads General Fiasco about slumming it and why their star is on the rise
N
orthern Irish threepiece General Fiasco prove that appearances are deceptive. Though you would be forgiven for thinking they were barely out of school, this band have been there and bought the t-shirt on the music scene. Brothers Owen and Enda Strathern and Shane Davey have been supporting themselves through music for the last 18 months, and have no plans of ceasing any time soon.
otwo meets Owen in the Odessa Club off George’s Street. The exclusive members-only establishment is a good indication of how far the band has come, and Owen tells me of the change that has happened. “Back at the start when we first went on tour, we didn’t have any money so we had to sleep in a van; the clubs we were playing were so small that they had no showers so we’d go to a swimming pool before we played the gigs, have a swim
and get a shower and stuff. But it’s all part of the experience – going from sleeping in a van to sneaking five people into a hotel room and gradually getting a few more rooms and a bit more comfort.” Their debut album Buildings was released last week. “The album’s something we’ve been working on for quite a while now. We recorded it gradually, we were touring for about a year and a half and we sort of recorded whenever we were home between tours, so it’s just something
Wild Horses
questionable, the album is good enough to deflect detractors who dismiss them as part of the “new rave scene”. Vincent O’Boyle talks to New Young Pony Club NYPC have a penchant for guitarist Andy Spence about their new album catchy synth pop in the new wave vein and have quite a The Optimist, stealing band names and the few pop gems in their stable as a result. However, bands perils of glow sticks can’t be new and young New Young Pony Club has had an enviable career forever and they certainly can’t afford to repeat so far. Their debut album was nominated for the themselves, so otwo enquires about the direction prestigious Mercury Prize in 2007 – the same of The Optimist, their sophomore album? “The year they got to tour with CSS, one of the most slightly darker side of new wave, some of those dazzlingly fun live bands around. Although the darker Cure albums like Seventeen Seconds, Mercury nomination of Fantastic Playroom was Pornography and Faith,” replies Andy. “The sound that they were using in the production of those records is fantastic.” The NYPC name is actually a play on Pony Club, a Dublinbased indie band. Andy is ultimately aware of the passing of time and possibly regrets his cheeky band name, just as an old otwo
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that happened naturally. It’s some songs we wrote a few years ago and some songs we wrote a few months ago. We didn’t just get a record deal and then write a whole new album, some of the songs that people first got excited about are still there so hopefully people will still like them.” Owen also has a novel take on the alcohol and revelry-laden teen years many inhabit. “Sitting in Belfast losing days and partying and stuff, it was just something to write about. Not being content with what we were doing, you sort of feel like you’re treading water, doing nothing and being aware that you yourself are slipping into the same thing as your friends are,” he supposes. “It was just something we experienced, something that everybody does no doubt about it. Getting a routine, going out and partying you sort of lose sight of the things that are important.” Though Owen admits he finds being recognised awkward, the impression made when playing is essential to achieve. “People only get to make their first impression once so make sure when you get out and start playing to people that you’re the best band that you possibly can be. You’ve gotta be great before you do anything.” General Fiasco’s album Buildings is out now
person sometimes regrets a tattoo. “To be honest I harbour a secret dream to return to that name and ditch the New Young because we’re not very new and we’re certainly not getting any younger, I’d love to be back to just ‘Pony Club’.” One published secret dream deserves another: otwo hopes that
“Someone got some [glow stick] in their eye once and had to be taken to A&E” the proposed name snatch is unsuccessful, so that NYPC will tour ashamedly in thirty years’ time under the same name. If NYPC are actually still around in thirty years’ there is definitely one thing they’ll want to leave in the past: glow sticks. The guitarist speaks warily of them, like a war veteran: “The stuff inside them is like acid, it’s grim grim stuff. Someone got some in their eye once and had to be taken to A&E.” Spence should be thankful he’s not a member of Nickelback: anyone who hasn’t seen the infamous video of them being hit with rocks probably should. While you’re online, check out NYPC’s new material: otwo can see why the band are so optimistic about it. Andy ponders who the optimist of the band is before concluding that “When the music is working, that’s when we’re optimistic. The Optimist is just the music.” New Young Pony club play the Button Factory on the 29th May. New Album The Optimist is out now
You Can Make Sound
W
hether you love them, loathe them or remain wholly indifferent to them, you’ve probably seen Delorentos live. otwo spoke to guitarist Kieran McGuinness just before the European release of the band’s second album, You Can Make Sound. The forthcoming promo tour of Europe is a mammoth cry from the band’s position a year ago. “It wasn’t that we almost broke up,” McGuinness explains, “it was more that we felt we couldn’t go on the way we were going. We pushed ourselves very hard and we were getting a bit careless with looking after each other. The first year we got tons of amazing reviews and played tons of amazing gigs and all, but we kind of expected it, we didn’t sit back and enjoy it, but now we’re
Sally Hayden has some time out with Irish staples and UCD lovers Delorentos
able to sit back and go, this is what we want, this is great.” Their regular association with the UCD Student Bar also holds related recollections. “The first gig after we decided not to break up was there last year, and we announced on the stage that we weren’t going to, and everyone went a bit crazy. It was great! Whenever we play UCD we go down, get a doughnut and have a cup of coffee before we go on. One of our first brushes with A&R came at UCD too – we ended up getting to record our first release through that, so the student bar always holds good memories for us.” otwo asks whether McGuinness usually enjoys relative anonymity when he goes out or whether he’s besieged by hoards of screaming girls. “Sometimes I get recognised on the street. There was a time I
“He was looking at me like he wanted me to sign something and I was there lying on the ground...”
Kyp Malone’s Rain Machine offers something fresh, vibrant, and new, as he tells Grace Duffy Rain Machine is the brainchild of TV on the Radio’s Kyp Malone, a band justly feted as one of the most influential and important of recent years on either side of the Atlantic. Yet, according to the man himself, the idea predates his work with this band, and is that little bit dearer to him because of it.
“About 2003, when I moved to New York, I had all these plans and ideas. I always had the idea in my head; I just didn’t develop it until I had the opportunity.” This opportunity came to him when, in September 2009, TVOTR went on a hiatus after six years together. Kip decided to take his otwo
was in a rough part of town and some guy came up behind me and punched me in the back of the head, completely floored me, then walked away. So I was lying there and another guy walked up and asked if I was OK, and then he was like, ‘Oh my God! It’s the guy from Delorentos!’ He was looking
UNDERGROUND SOUND 25 at me like he wanted me to sign something and I was there lying on the ground...” Exceptionally modest about the band’s success so far, Kieran can’t see anything else he could possibly be spending his time on. “I would always be doing music. I mightn’t be in this band, or I might be playing a different instrument but I’d still be doing music. Music is what I was always supposed to be doing. “The most important thing to do is write and play songs, and if you’re good at that, get gigs,” he concludes. “I don’t think there’s any rocket science to it. If you play well and love it, you’ll get better at it and then people will like what you do and come to your gigs.” Delorentos played the Academy last week.
Enter the Machine own ideas on the road, creating music similar to his previous band, though imbuing it with enough funk, rock, indie – and most importantly, soul – to make it his own. Malone’s voice veers from potent and passionate to haunting on album standout ‘Smiling Back Faces’, a song he says he is asked about quite frequently. Focusing in on the killing of African-American drug dealer Sean Bell in New York City in 2006, the song’s turbulent subject matter sets it apart from others on the album. Asked as to whether addressing such political issues is important to him, Malone is sceptical in reply. “I think political is the wrong word. These issues aren’t the only type of political; that’s just what I chose to write about. I feel like other videos that may, for instance, have scantily-clad dancers, that’s a form of political too. That’s what it is in music. It’s all political.” As part of TV on the Radio, Malone has had the opportunity to work with such revered names as David Bowie and Nick Zinner of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, experiences 30.03.10
that no doubt helped to shape (at least in some small way) his music. However, Malone notes that it is not just such esteemed figures who inspire him. “There are many things I’ve picked up along the way. Those are the ones that are mentioned most often cos people know them, but there are so many other people who mightn’t be known whose paths I’ve crossed, and from whom I’ve also taken something.” As for the crowd reaction to his solo material, Malone says it has been “very positive,” and that tours in the US towards the end of last year yielded much fruitful feedback. He says, “I don’t really read reviews ‘cos I think all that is poison. I prefer to see how the crowd responds to it and the tours we’ve done have been really good.” As is understandable – and with his next tour taking in Dublin in two weeks, the Irish crowds will undoubtedly be lining up to show their appreciation. Rain Machine play the Academy on 15th April.
26
WEB
with GRACE DUFFY In an aeon when blogging sites are ten-a-penny and everyone’s grandmother has an oh-so-cool and relevantly hip online log to document their streams of holier-than-thou awesomeness, Tumblr offers something different – perhaps best illustrated by my inability to describe exactly what it is whenever someone asks. Tumblr is a blogging site of sorts, but more than anything, I would make a case for it as a fantastic site for nerds (film nerds specifically, but nerds of any shape or form). There are sites and pages for just about every actor, film, TV show or band you can think of, littered full of bright sparkling photos and subtitled stills. The majority of these begin with the words “fuck yeah”, a prime example of the sort of self-congratulatory air one associates with bloggers, but making locating them infinitely
easier. The site allows you to sift through the various posts and reblog them to your page, either as is or embellished with your own two cents. In this way, Tumblr allows you to mix blogging with social networking, something which feeds into its unique and infectious appeal. Reblogging is not mandatory however – for the more casual observer, you can “like” the posts instead, basically saving the URL for future perusal at your leisure. Tumblr is also, happily enough for coding amateurs, very cooperatively laid out. All the necessary tools are laid out on your “dashboard” as soon as you log in, together with a list of the most recent blog posts from those you “follow.” Bear in mind, this list can get stunningly comprehensive the more addicted you get (cough), and you’ll never read through
it all, especially given Tumblr updates in real time. One can choose from text, photo, audio, and video options in posting, as well as quoting and links – handy for the aforementioned fan blogs – making it fantastically easy to whittle your life away posting every vaguely interesting creation that pops into your head or stumbles across your screen. Tumblr is laid out in a colourful and pretty format, with the token options for designing your own layout a la MySpace (RIP). So what’s best to check out on this utopia of blogging sites? Movies in Frames (http://short.
ie/uo111) is a personal favourite, posting three-still montages from various films, occasionally subtitled to capture a certain moment. For the artier types, Quote Book (http://short.ie/ uo112) and Ache (http://short. ie/uo113) post simply, beautifully, and frequently. Fuck Yeah, Slightly Amusing (http:// short.ie/uo114) guarantees at least a wry chuckle, and Fuck Yeah Skinny Bitch (http://short. ie/uo115) is – though controversially titled – helpful with the daily wardrobe dilemma. All in all, a world of win. Expect to be swallowed whole. Share your links with webwatch@ universityobserver.ie or on Twitter at http://twitter.com/otwo.
Websight: Boredstop.com
Got five minutes to spare? Ben Storey has a solution. Caution: you may waste more than five minutes…
Boredstop.com is not your usual time-wasting website. As a student, one becomes rapidly acquainted with the range of sites offering everything from quizzes, blogs, videos and chat to occupy your “spare” time
– Facebook, Bebo, Sporcle and StumbleUpon quickly spring to mind. Many of these are modern favourites but some, on the other hand, quickly lose their novelty and fail to impress. Alas, fear not: Boredstop is coming to the rescue! “Because you have time to kill”: that’s the byline on the website, and it’s true. You may not actually have time to kill – but hey, let’s make some. First of all, it’s important to say that this site is completely and otwo
utterly random, consisting of pages of random pictures with concise explanations underneath. You can expand the information in the explanations if you want, which makes it more worthwhile and interesting. The website offers a wide list of genres to choose from so you can control your search. The sections include nature, miscellaneous, people, oddities, cool, technology, art and animals, so perhaps there’s something for everyone! The appeal of the site is that it’s just that little bit quirkier and different to the other sites which act as brief amusements. The pictures do not follow any single tone: one may be humorous, the next thoughtprovoking, the next perplexing. There is, quite simply, a mix of everything. On one quick glance I found myself looking in fascination at a series of pictures documenting the killing of a bee by a spider that had camouflaged itself yellow, so as to sneakily blend in with the flower on which it was 30.03.10
perched on… sad as it sounds, it was actually pretty awesome. Next were photos of purses made from rocks and fruit. You literally do not know what you will come across! The site offers two more amusing side portions: the “random picture of the week”, and the “interesting news” section. The first does exactly what it says on the tin – you just have to love it for its sheer randomness. You might get a picture of a burger with an egg on it, or maybe a picture of a Mexican unisex toilet. Yes – random. The news section also offers a cacophony of completely unrelated topics from all over the web. If it’s a website that focuses on a specific topic or theme that you’re looking for, BoredStop will not be your cup of tea. However, if you’ve got a couple of minutes on your hands, this site is worthy of a visit. It’s a bit of light and mild entertainment to leave you, eh… I don’t know… startled? Happy? Wondering? Probably all of the above.
MUSIC 27
CAPTAIN MAGIC
ERIK HASSLE
ANDREW LLOYD WEBBER
Album: Wonderland Rating: B
Album: Pieces Rating: B-
Album: Love Never Dies OST Rating: A
Apparently Erik Hassle is a big deal in his native Sweden and is making tracks around Europe – and listening to this debut offering, it’s not difficult to understand why. Hassle’s identikit popcum-light-rock is exactly what the continent looks for: inoffensive, rhythmic, generally melodic meh sung in everybody’s second language, English. Lead single ‘Hurtful’ and follow-up ‘Don’t Bring Flowers’ are genuinely catchy – exactly the kind of tune one might hear while sat in a cybercafé or a hostel lobby somewhere – anywhere – in Europe. Sadly the rest of the contributions are largely filler with regrettably little killer. In a nutshell: The soundtrack to your inter-railing. Gavan Reilly
It is indeed quite the mammoth task to attempt to follow up the atmospheric musical delights of the Phantom of the Opera, but despite the lack of a ‘Music of the Night’ or a ‘Think of Me’, there is evidence of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical greatness here. The music aches with a characteristic darkness; the thuds of a deliciously decadent piano assail throughout. There is bombast aplenty, the triumphant heraldry
This album from Dublin outfit Captain Magic is full of soul, featuring twelve tracks of the most extravagantly entertaining music. The authentic combination of violin, guitars, and drums captures the atmosphere of a den in small town Kentucky or Colombia. One track, ‘Funk Me a River’, features two mixes – ‘Double Espresso’ and ‘Cappuccino’ – each adding a different vibe to the same song. It’s hard to believe that a five-piece busker band can make their music sound like a mini-orchestra. The album features hardly any vocals – not a bad thing, because the vocals that do appear, while good, could be better! This is an extremely promising debut effort – and with the right record label, Captain Magic could have a big break on the world stage. In A Nutshell: A must-have – hear them in Temple Bar Square for free. Selva Unal
that opens Beneath a Moonless Sky catching all off guard. This song in particular is a standout, featuring a mesmerising interplay between the Phantom and Christine. Their vocals are exquisite – clear, pristine, and beautiful, capturing the nuances of their characters perfectly. In A Nutshell: A bewitching ensemble that deserves more than the inevitable comparisons to what went before. Grace Duffy
Reviews
JOHNNY CASH Album: American VI: Ain’t No Grave Rating: AAmerican VI opens with the line, “There ain’t no grave that can hold my body down.” It’s almost chilling, given this is the second posthumous album from Johnny Cash. This album is the last in the American series. Cash
may begin by daring death to take him on, but winds down, ultimately accepting his demise and taking a more reflective tone about life, advising us to snatch what joy we can as he muses over love, life, loss and what
happens next. Instrumentally the album is stripped down and complements the lyrical content. The closing ‘Aloha Oe’ sounds a cheesy, contrived idea on paper, but works well as the calm dignified goodbye we all
Album of the Fortnight JOANNA NEWSOM Album: Have One On me Rating: A+ Joanna Newsom’s third studio album, Have One On Me, which is approximately two hours in length and encompasses eighteen songs on three inordinate, but extremely well-sequenced CDs in a format befitting of Newsom’s novelistic scope and eye for lyrical detail, both rejects and embraces the musical motifs conspicuous in her previous two efforts, The Milk-Eyed Mender and Ys, as she tempers the more flamboyant vocal tendencies which helped cultivate these albums’ ingenuity, opting instead for a noticeably restrained, elegiac approach to singing while simultaneously
acquiescing to her trademark folk-cum-country, harp-oriented sounds in a manner that consciously echoes the ghosts of pop musical history on album standouts such as “In California” (Joni Mitchell), “Good Intentions Paving Company” (Stevie Wonder) and “Soft as Chalk” (Neil Young) without ever sacrificing her compelling, clairvoyant and vastly inimitable idiosyncrasies. In a nutshell: If a superior album is released this year, I’ll eat my hat. Paul Fennessy otwo
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expected from (and wanted for) the Man in Black. In a nutshell: A fitting farewell to a genuine legend. Lynda O’Keeffe
28
ENCORE
Aries (March 21 – April 20)
A dozen more furballs of profound philosopical insight for your inspection
The portents suggest that a malefactor will present you with a sponge-based food item in the next few days. But be careful! The cunning fiend will set it on fire in a devious effort to do you harm.
Taurus (April 21 – May 21) Gary Glitter will be headlining the UCD Ball. And it’s going to rain. Gemini (May 22 – June 21) Did you know that “oops poops” is a scientifically recognised term referring to the act of shitting oneself due to laughing uncontrollably?
Gig of the Fortnight: Canterbury 30.03.10 – Speakesy, Belfast – €5 – 6:30pm
This will be only the second headlining show Canterbury play on our shores – they play Cork the day before – and yet it may be the last in so small a venue. With their latest single ‘Gloria’ reaching number 7 on Scuzz’s TUESDAY 30 March th
Canterbury – Speakeasy, Belfast – tickets £5 – doors 6:30pm The Courteneers – The Academy, Dublin – tickets €18.50 – doors 7:30pm 6th April
Lloyd Daniels – The Academy, Dublin – tickets €28 – doors 4pm
31 March
1 April
Libra (September 24 – October 23) You’ve got some food stuck to your face. I know this because you’re a fat s***e.
Pisces (February 19 – March 20) In order to enhance your popularity, bring up in conversation how you’re “over” Starbucks. Say this while sipping from a hipflask of organic peppermint tea for extra style points.
Scorpio (October 24 – November 22) My leg hurts, and it’s your fault.
]
st
Hoarsebox – The Button Factory, Dublin – tickets €10 – doors 8pm Battle of the Axe Thursdays – Comedy Club – tickets €9 – doors 9:30pm
7h April
Aquarius (Jan 21 – Feb 19) Don’t tell Gemini, but that was completely untrue. Obviously.
Grace Duffy
THURSDAY
X-Factor Live – The O2, Dublin – tickets from €40.20 – doors 8pm
Capricorn (December 23 – January 23) Having done in-depth statistical analysis of your future, using time series analysis and linear regression techniques, I have come to the following conclusion: Sell! Sell! Sell!
most requested videos this week, it’s clear the young Englishmen’s star is on the rise. Take a trip north and check them out while the shows are still this intimate – and cheap!
WEDNESDAY st
him.
Virgo (August 24 – September 23) Make a new friend this week by tapping Morse Code to your neighbour in res. This works best in Merville or Belgrove. Roebuck folk will probably complain to services about faulty plumbing. Posh gits.
Cancer (June 22 – July 23) Go easy on that chocolate. If you eat any more, you’ll explode, quite possibly in a manner befitting a Northern Irish courthouse.
[
Sagittarius (November 23 – December 22) You may not have The Dude’s style, but at least you smell like
Leo (July 24 – August 23) When you’re getting dressed tomorrow morning, be careful – there’ll be a dead mouse in your left shoe.
8th April
Kate Nash – The Academy, Dublin – tickets €21 – doors 7pm
Jody Has a Hitlist – The Academy, Dublin – tickets €13 – doors 1pm
Adrian Crowley – Whelans, Dublin – tickets €15 – doors 8pm
Port O’Brien – Crawdaddy, Dublin – tickets €14 – doors 8pm
FRIDAY 2 April nd
Keith Barry’s “The Asylum” – Portlaoise Heritage Hotel – tickets €30 – doors 7:30pm
SATURDAY 3 April rd
The High Kings – Grand Canal Theatre, Dublin – tickets €33.60 – doors 7:30pm
SUNDAY 4 April th
Fun-Loving Criminals – The Academy, Dublin – tickets €30 – doors 7:30pm
MONDAY 5 April h
Philadelphia, Here I Come – The Gaiety Theatre, Dublin – tickets from €35 – doors 7:30pm
The Dirty 9s – Crawdaddy, Dublin – tickets – doors 8pm
9th April
Jedward – The Helix, Dublin – tickets €25.50 – doors 7:30pm WWE Smackdown & Wrestlemania Revenge tour – The O2, Dublin – tickets €33.60 - €76.25 – doors 7:30pm otwo
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10th April
Anti-Pop Consortium – Whelan’s, Dublin – tickets €18.95 – doors 7:30pm Xposé Live – RDS, Dublin – tickets €22.45 – doors 10am
11th April
Hermione Hennessy – Dolan’s, Limerick – tickets €16.45 – doors 8pm
12th April
One Republic – Savoy, Cork – tickets €28 – doors 9pm