The University Observer’s Arts & Culture Supplement
16.02.10 VOL XV1 ISSUE 9
2 HELLO
contents
03
REGULARS SOAPBOX – an anecdote on ye olde people WHAT’S HOT & WHAT’S NOT – Michelle McCormick treats you to post-Valentine’s fashion trends VOXPOP – Selva Unal asks readers about the best eats on campus TWATS – The latest in celebrity foot-inmouth… tweet, tweet MIXTAPE – Hip replacements coming up! How to get your granny rockin’
07 10 10 12
19 20
DRAMA – Dancing at Lughnasa: Dramsoc’s answer to Spring Time
MUSIC FEED – Grace Duffy speaks to 30 Seconds to Mars in over 30 seconds, while simultaneously speaking to Cobra Starship in what appears to be a stellar collision. Oh yeah, she also spoke to Marina and the Diamonds… ain’t she great?
– Jamie gives us the low-down on Motherhood, while Anto replies to your very strange letters
CULTURE WASH
23
24
- Umer Rashid talks about the Earth of Mankind, while Jake O’Brien gives out to the Max about some Tucker
T R AV E L - Willing to cycle across Europe this Summer? Let Kris fill you in
- London’s Brixton borough gets the gotwo treatment from Alex Court
HEADLINER HE’S HAD IT WITH THESE MOTHERFUCKING SNAKES ON THIS MOTHERFUCKING PLANE – need we say more? otwo meets Samuel L Jackson
FA S H I O N Seán McGovern offers a special guide to looking good with ethical buys
SOMETHING ELSE PAT KENNY - otwo spoke to Pat Kenny… that’s about it really.
FILM & TV REVIEWS: We catch a peak of The Wolfman, have a peer at Invictus, and stroll through some little unheard-of thing called Everybody’s Fine TOP TEN: Stephanie Wallace Chavanne compiles the best movie kisses FEATURE: Conor Barry gives an insightful look into the Oscars for 2010
OPINION
- Deirdre Flannery brings you the delights of Chicago
14
16
26 27 28
FOOD & DRINK - Gavan Reilly eats his fill at the surprisingly busy Japanese restaurant Yamamori - Jake O’Brien takes a go at hangovers
UNDERGROUND SOUND Alison Lee speaks to a will-definitelymake-it-big-time Kat Cross; continuing the celestial theme, Ciara Doyle and Grace Duffy meet God Is An Astronaut; and in an NME Tour special otwo meet The Maccabees and Two Door Cinema Club
WEB Web watchdog Gavan Reilly offers a cinematic special Webwatch, and Emer Sugrue sights the rise of Podiobooks
CD REVIEWS - Yay or nay? Well, have a look see.
THE FUTURE - Mystic Mittens and gigs galore. Your next fortnight taken care of.
otwo
16.02.10
Letter
from the Ed Hey folks, Issue 9 is here in print and I’m only too glad. This week our readers were very close to thinking “Why is Pat Kenny on the front page?” But thank sofa that we could fix it another way (btw Pat Kenny is on page 19 for you avid fans). Last Saturday, an opportunity presented itself to us (which then had to be chased, however) when Samuel L Jackson (and Keith Duffy!) came to UCD to hold a charity ball in aid of Autism research. All I can say is fair play to him. Think about it – he must really care to fly all the way to Ireland AND to give a speech on a SATURDAY night as well as FRIDAY night and all on VALENTINE’S weekend! What a ledge… Anyway, it’s his picture that dons our front cover this issue. Sadly for me, I never got to meet the chap (but we all know that Pat Kenny makes up for that fact, right RIGHT?). I can only imagine that after Jedward and Sammy L on our cover, the next stage has to be God himself. Now, was anyone else aware that the full title for that Snake movie was Snakes on a Plane (Bring It)? Colin otwo@universityobserver.ie twitter.com/otwo
WHINGE 3
SOAPBOX Hey! Old folks! Deirdre Flannery wants a word, you old codgers… Several weeks ago, I was accompanying my father to the local supermarket when we happened upon a doddery old chap unloading his groceries into the boot of a car. Mumbling incomprehensibly, he rolled his trolley across our path. Appearing slightly irritated by the obstruction, Dad inquired as to what the fellow wanted. “Could you put the trolley back for me?” the man mumbled, only slightly more coherently. “I don’t work here,” my father curtly replied, moving swiftly away and leaving the old man to wheel the cart by himself back to the bay, a mere five metres away. I was taken aback by the apparent rudeness of my normally polite parent, because I was quite sure than the elderly gentleman was in fact perfectly aware that my father did not work there. Rather, I believe he was relying on his status as an elder to relegate the bothersome task of returning his shopping trolley to the younger, subservient minions that roamed the parking lot, possibly because they were more able bodied than he, and possibly because he felt that us young folks owe him some sort of duty at his stage in life. My own contemplation was that reaching retirement age does come with certain entitlements – respect and compassion among them – but some seem to think it comes with the corollary entitlement to lose all respect for those not yet greying at the temples. Catherine Tate’s ‘Nan’ is an extreme example, but having worked behind the counter in a certain clothes shop aimed at the more senior ladies among us, I am well used to manners being completely abandoned by dears of a certain age, skipping the queue (thinking that the order they get to the till is based on who was born first, and not just who was first in line). And don’t even get me started on the Dublin Bus queues, the amount of times I’ve nearly lost an eye to some dear waving her pass in my face. I’m sure that a percentage of them are senile, and can perhaps be excused for their behaviour, but to the rest of those battleaxes who jump the line without as much as an excuse me, and to that chap in the car park that demanded we return his trolley for him: do try to watch your OA P’s and Q’s! Then us young ‘uns might reciprocate the respect!
This fortnight’s movers and losers as chosen by otwo’s resident hot stuff Michelle McCormick
HOT
Seachtain na Gaeilge Wasn’t that awesome? Free entry into clubs, The Coronas playing on campus, a hypnotist, balloons, Spin in the student centre, tea and sandwiches and talking lots and lots of lovely Gaeilge – and not a peep out of that eejit Hector O’Hockacjhan. Ciúnas bothar cailín bainne - an dtuigeann tú?
B&L Ball A refreshing change from the usual drinkfuelled disasters plonked in whatever skeezy Dublin hotel will take a crew of sozzled students, this year’s B&L Ball is set in the swanky Mount Wolseley Hotel in Tullow, Co Carlow. Kudos to B&L for organising a night of luxury for a bargain €70.
Six Nations Yay for rugby! The staff at the Observer have been overcome with rugby fever, and let’s face it, who can resist? There’s something for everyone at Six Nations time – whether it’s the rugby, the chance to spend every weekend in the pub, the patriotism, or simply hot men in shorts.
Pancakes Why can’t every Tuesday be pancake Tuesday? These flat, eggy treats are the height of deliciousness and we only get to stuff ourselves with them one day a year. Head on down to Cafe Brava today to get your sticky little paws on some pancakes, then lounge about on the sofas after.
Ridiculous iPhone Apps Now that everyone has an iPhone these days, it was only inevitable that there’d be a flood of useful and not-souseful apps to clog it up with. We can use things like ‘Camera Flash’ and ‘Flashlight ineffective and superfluous as they are – but c’mon, How to Kiss? iBeer Special? I don’t want to ‘brew beer on my iPhone’; also, it’s actually not possible.
LOST No, you get LOST. Being one of those (normal, sane) people who gave up on this plane crash of a programme (see what I did there) – three years ago, I was horrified to see that the plot has become even more retarded since I last tuned in. They travel in time now?! Fuck off, like. I don’t have the brainpower or the inclination to understand your messing.
Facebook It’s not just the endless procession of “new” layouts, which are being rolled out in such quick succession that we’re feeling quite dizzy, that is getting on our nerves – but the fact that memes and applications are creeping into our status updates now. If I wanted all that shite I’d still be on Bebo. If anyone’s looking for me, I’ll be on Twitter.
NOT
Pokerface as Gaeilge The one aberration Seachtain na Gaeilge brought upon us was this travesty against music. Ensconced in the Student Centre, the Spin 103.8 minis and their crew of “DJs” subjected us to an all-Irish version of Lady Gaga’s musical masterpiece, Pokerface, all about cailíní or something. It made us want to stab ourselves in the eyeballs with forks. otwo
16.02.10
4
WHINGE
say what ???
QUESTION: What’s your favourite place to eat on campus? asks Selva Unal
“Student Bar, because it’s the only place you can get chips and gravy”
“
SU because it’s cheap and convenient, and they have nice food
Kevin Conlon, 3rd Neuroscience
Graham O’Brien, 2nd Arts International
“Elements, because its prices are reasonable and the quality of food is good”
Devlina Roy, 1st Economics
“I like to eat at the Students’ Union shop, especially the sandwiches with the chicken and the salad with mayonnaise”
”
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... @frankenteen Just recorded a guest spot for THE SIMPSONS. One of the best moments of my life thus far Finn from Glee aka Cory Monteith aka Frankenteen reaches the highest pinnacle of fame – being on The Simpsons. And not before time, too. This little nugget of info made Gleeks worldwide wee in their pants a bit. @alandavies1 Please stop retweeting Alan Davies to me. I hate Alan Davies. If I see Alan Davies, I will punch Alan Davies. The ever-able-to-laugh-at-himself Alan Davies shows the hataz what’s what by retweeting a nasty message about himself. That’ll show him, eh? About as effectively as sticking your tongue out behind someone’s back.
@ghook Chinese ood has arrived at Croke Park Who knew Hooky was a Doctor Who fan? Or maybe Croker was really being invaded by a fictional alien species with tentacle faces and telepathic abilities... and slanty eyes... @tyrabanks when i toured Google HQ. Went 2 their TGIF party. Was in room w/sum of the worlds smartest peeps Makes a change from being in a room with ‘sum of the worlds’ most mentally challenged wannabe models... and Janice Dickinson. @dianainheaven Anna Nicole just gave a slurred speech about staying true to herself. Then she injected some horse tranquilisers into her eyeball. otwo
16.02.10
Looking for a highly offensive yet hilarious faux-celebrity Twitter to brighten up your day? Look no further than Diana in Heaven. The Queen of Hearts lives on in a really inappropriate manner. We lolled. @parishilton Just landed in Rio!!! Huge!! Really, Paris Hilton - is Rio big? We had no idea. Either you’re shocked at the size of one of the biggest cities in one of the world’s most highly-populated countries, or you’re trying to coin a new word to replace ‘epic’. We suggest ‘arsenic’. And not as a word: as a lifestyle choice...
otwo attempts : Giving Blood
ATTEMPTS 5
Sticking a needle into your arm and deliberately offering your lifeblood - literally - for the benefit of others should be easy, right? Emer Sugrue attempts a blood donation
G
iving blood is one of those things that ‘good people’ do. Good People are always doing things for others: they spend every weekend being drained of all their useful fluids before heading down to orphanage to make soup, have 15 standing orders for various charities, and 20 copies of the Big Issue in their bag. I am not so honourable; I ignore the homeless and the chuggers, drowning out their desperate pleas with my iPod. “Sorry, I didn’t notice that clipboard waving in my face; I’ve been rendered blind by pure rhythm!” However, even I sometimes long for the smug satisfaction of giving to my fellow man, and donating blood seemed ideal. I wouldn’t have to talk to any sick or poor people, and I could still brag about how selfless I am. Anyway, it’s only a pint of blood; I donate that every week to my carpet, stubbing my toe. It was a longer process than I had expected. I first had to fill out an enormous questionnaire to see if I was eligible. The first few were normal (my age, whether I’d donated before), but then it got into very odd territory. You can’t donate if you’ve lived in Britain, or ever been to a hospital in Britain. Why? Britain is a first world country, they even have better health system then we’ve got. Are they randomly injecting people with Aids over there? Maybe it’s just a really petty hangover from the War of Independence. You can’t donate if you are a gay man, or have had the flu in the last month, or had a blood transfusion, or been out of Europe, or gone outside, or talked to anyone. Luckily my isolated World of Warcraft lifestyle leaves me amply qualified. I returned my form and was whisked off to talk to a nurse, who proceeded to ask me exactly the same questions out loud, drilling through the questions very quickly, and trying to get me to trip up and confess like some sort of blood terrorist. After my interrogation, and when I still wasn’t a junkie prostitute, I was cheerfully informed that I would be allowed to give blood that day. Woohoo!
I was through the first hurdle, and it only took 40 minutes! I still wasn’t confirmed to give blood at this point, though, I had to have a few tests. After another 20 minutes in the waiting room,
I was taken behind a screen to have my iron levels checked. (You have to have quite a high iron level so vegetarians – don’t even bother. You can go donate some celery to
“It’s only a pint of blood; I donate that
dyslexic budgies.) Since I am awesome, I again passed with flying colours. You need a minimum of 12, but I had 13.6, eh... bits of iron. In my blood. Which was good. On went the inflatable armband to check my blood pressure, and I was good to go. Ushered through to the main bleeding room after another wait, a tight band was put over my upper arm to bulge up my veins. I saw Jack Bauer do that in 24 when he was a heroin addict, that one time. Then a nurse handed me a dog toy, a little red rubber bone, and I was ordered to play with it, pressing it with my thumb as if I was clicking a pen. I do like clicky pens but the bone didn’t click, and I was beginning to wonder (a) why the budget didn’t stretch to proper squeezy things, and (b) whether the nurses were just messing with me. The needle went in, and the nurse commented on how fast I was bleeding. She seemed quite impressed – but outside a blood donation situation it’s hardly ideal. If I ever get mugged I’m going to bleed dry in seconds. At least I can hope the sheer volume will cause my attacker to slip and impale himself on a nearby postbox. Watching the bag fill up was bizarre. It looked so full, but I didn’t feel any different. No dizziness, nausea… even no pain. There have been incidents before where I didn’t notice I had cut myself (“Hmm... why is my hand wet? Uh-oh.”) but I always assumed I would realise before I bled to death. The only thing that happened was my hand got quite cold. Maybe I wasn’t playing with the dog toy enough. Ten minutes later the bag was full, and the needle was yanked out and replaced with the stickiest plaster known to mankind. (I had a job getting that off later – easily the most painful part of the procedure). Finally it was off to the canteen for doctor prescribed tea and biscuits. I would definitely donate again. You can only give blood once every three months; although the lost blood is replaced within 24 hours, the body takes several weeks to recover red blood cells. As I munched my bourbons I congratulated myself: two hours and one pint of blood is definitely worth a weekend of bragging about my selflessness. Next week: donating the kidney. I can take it. Rawr.
every week
to my carpet, stubbing my toe” otwo
16.02.10
6 MUSIC
Mixtape
A Mixtape to Give your Granny Seeking to inexplicably offend your grandmother? Paul Fennessy provides the tunes for your ignoble exploit Public Enemy - ‘Fight The Power’ “Granny likes Elvis probably / But Elvis don’t mean shit to Chuck D / Therefore Elvis don’t mean shit to me / Therefore screw you granny.” If only these were the actual lyrics. 50 Cent - ‘21 Questions’ Forget Dean Martin and Frank Sinatra, no one has ever written a more romantic love song than ‘21 Questions’, with its key, incandescent lyric: “I love you like a fat kid loves cake.” The La’s – ‘There She Goes’ “There she goes again / Pulsing through my veins / And I just can’t contain / This feeling that remains”. Granny will assume this is a beautiful paean to unrequited love from one of those obscure acts her grandson loves. It is, in fact, a beautiful paean to heroin from the second greatest Liverpudlian band of all time.
Tori Amos - ‘Leather’ If 50 Cent’s elegiac ballads are not quite what granny is into, then Tori Amos’ eloquent glorifications of sadomasochism should be right up her alley. Also features in what is definitely the greatest musical sequence ever put to film for all you Oz fans out there (anyone, no?) – incidentally, a TV show that granny should also check out. Ol’ Dirty Bastard featuring Kelis – ‘Got Your Money’ “I don’t have no trouble with you f*cking me / But I have a little problem with you not f*cking me.” Poetry. MDC – ‘John Wayne was a Nazi’ I’m sure there’s nothing granny would appreciate more than a nice, condescending lecture from a hardcore punk band about how her generation was really just all a bunch of racist, emotionally insecure Nazis.
Throbbing Gristle – any track from 20 Jazz Funk Greats This is included for no better reason than if you seek to scare the living bejaysus out of your grandmother – preferably one who is a jazz aficionado, given the album’s misleading title. Lou Reed – any track from Metal Machine Music This is included for no better reason than to convince your grandmother that there are experiences worse than death – namely, having to listen to a track off Metal Machine Music. LCD Soundsystem – ‘Losing My Edge’ This is included for no better reason than to remind your granny how old and uncool she is. She probably won’t get how the track actually satirises hipster culture as opposed to venerating it, thus making her even more uncool.
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DramSoc Review:
DRAMA 7
Dancing at Lughnasa Brian Friel’s work is appraised by Sophie Lioe
D
ramsoc’s decision to tackle what is arguably one of Brian Friel’s most demanding plays, Dancing at Lughnasa, could from the outset seem like an ambitious one. Set in 1930’s Donegal, the play depicts the intense solitude and universal hopelessness felt by many Irish families at the time, expressed through the dynamics of the relationships between the five Mundy sisters as they are forced to deal with the onset of the delayed arrival of the industrial revolution to rural Ireland, along with their reunion with their beloved brother who returns from the missionaries in Africa with somewhat less of the Christian mindset with which he initially left 25 years previously. Generating the correct atmosphere is one of the most important elements in this play, and in this case the cast managed to create intense atmospheric silences that perfectly relayed the poignancy of the moments to their full effect. Solid and understated,
yet thoroughly convincing performances from each cast member ensured that the individual
personality of each sister shone through, while the interactions with each other left the audience convinced of the integral family bonds which hold each of Friel’s ideas together. The explosive moments of short-lived euphoria in the Mundy household are, in fact, as strong as the moments of despair, and the cast effectively created brief windows of light heartedness which were much needed to give the audience a brief emotional break and lift the intense depressive mood momentarily. I even found myself completely caught up in the dancing scene between Chrissie and Gerry, wishing someone would sweep me off my feet in a 1930s fashion! As the lights went down on the final scene, the resoluteness of the ending left behind an atmosphere which still carried the strong sense of the solitude and despair evident throughout the play. Dramsoc’s effort would move even the most hardhearted of theatre goers - let’s hope for a return in the not-too-distant future.
S n a k e s o n a S ta r s h i p Guitarist Ryland Blackinton of “Never let the loopy dancerockers Cobra Starship truth get in the tell Grace Duffy about life in the way of a good world’s most carefree band “We always say, never let the truth get in the way of a good story!” laughs Cobra Starship guitarist Ryland Blackinton when quizzed as to his band’s intriguing moniker. Legend has it lead singer Gabe Saporta had a snakebite-induced epiphany in the desert, causing him to hallucinate that the titular reptile was schooling him on the dance floor. A fittingly iridescent story, it matches the band’s funloving fusion of rock and rhythmic dance. This mischievous image is one cultivated by the band, especially in a scene where musicians are often too preoccupied with being taken seriously. “Even from the very beginning we didn’t really take it too seriously, especially not ourselves. We just wanna have fun. I just think emo is the shittiest thing ever – people moping over stuff – and we wanted to break out of that world and be a bit more frivolous. We make music that you can just turn your brain off when you listen.” Indeed, Cobra Starship’s fresh attitude is both unique and entirely welcome. The band caught
story!”
the eye of Pete Wentz a few years ago, signing to his label Decaydance, and will soon release their third album Hot Mess. Amongst others, the band have worked with American Idol judge Kara DioGuardi – one of the fruits of the process being a collaboration with none other Leighton Meester of Gossip Girl fame. “We worked with a lot of people, but Kara just happened to be the one that we connected with the best,” says Ryland. “She’s got a great attitude, she’s really talented. She was able to take what we had already and bring it to the next level. It was very different, but it was very cool. ” As for Leighton, “We were in the studio in New York, and our producers said to take a day off as they were having a session with one of the Gossip Girls. Gabe said, half-joking, ‘we’ll take tomorrow off if you promise we can do a song with her,’ but then somehow a few months later the opportunity came up!” Unpredictability being the standard in the Cobra Starship camp, the band are venturing to Indonesia otwo
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and the Philippines later this year as part of a breakneck world tour, also including Japan, New Zealand and Australia. Says Ryland, “You never really get to see the places that you’re touring, but I love to travel and I never would have been able to come to any of these places if I weren’t in the band. Being away from home can be tough but it’s the nature of the beast. Who knows what’ll come across our desk!” Let’s just hope south east Asia is ready for this fun-loving starship to land. Cobra Starship’s album Hot Mess is out now.
Music in 8
MUSIC
With sights set high to match their name, 30 Seconds to Mars talk to Grace Duffy about their latest album and fondness for a good cause
Mars 3
0 Seconds to Mars are clearly focused, driven, and who know what’s important. Though for many they remain Jared Leto’s preferred pastime when he’s not acting, their social conscience and the accomplished manner of their latest release beg further scrutiny from detractors. “You have to grow into that sound,” says guitarist Tomo Milosevic of the group’s latest album, This Is War. A fiery, ambitious project encompassing sweeping orchestrals and soaring vocals to create lushly augmented songs that wouldn’t find themselves out of place on a film soundtrack. “We’ve always wanted to make a record like that,” Tomo continues. “The three of us, we grew up listening to and falling in love with music that touches on that grandiose, epic scope – stuff like Pink Floyd, U2, Nine Inch Nails. We just had to get to this point where we were able to do it and we finally felt like we did.” The album, released in December to widespread critical acclaim, was recorded in a speciallydesigned studio in a house in the Hollywood Hills. The band’s producer, Flood, a seasoned craftsman who has worked with, among others, Depeche Mode and the Smashing Pumpkins, described the group as having set out to make “a classic album, going to places they’d never been before” – something Tomo feels the band achieved perfectly. “We definitely achieved what we set out to in the sense that we transformed ourselves again and we knew we did everything we could possibly do. When you make a record, you don’t ever want to find yourself in a position where you’re wondering if you could have done more, or put more of yourself into it. We all know we can look at each other and say, this is the best we can do, this is the best 30 Seconds to Mars can do up to this point.” As the music industry evolves, not always adapting to the new challenges facing it down in the era of internet and file sharing, Tomo says the band tried to find a new way of creating interest. “Making the release of an album exciting these days is hard. People don’t place a very high value on music anymore, so we try to think of creative ways to make people excited that the record is coming out.” To this end, the band invited their fans to join them in ‘the Summit’, an impromptu recording session at the Avalon club in LA. It proved such a success that eight more ‘summits’ were held in countries across the globe, and the band also invited fans to submit photos of themselves as
potential album covers. More than 2000 different covers were assembled from the submissions, as Tomo emphasises the importance of a “connection with the fanbase” for the group. “We’ve always been very interested in what people think and their opinions; we wanna hear what’s going on in people’s minds when it comes to 30 Seconds to Mars. From the very beginning of this band that was established and we always continued that connection and this is just another way to do that.” The album This Is War also continues the band’s focus upon environmental issues, something they feel particularly strongly about. The video for single A Beautiful Lie was shot within the Arctic Circle with the lyrics directing attention upon a struggle that Tomo describes as “everyone’s responsibility” to fight for. However, he rejects the notion that the band, as public figures, feels a greater onus to promote awareness. “Not for that reason – we feel it’s our responsibility because it is everyone’s responsibility and the fact we might be in the public eye, that’s not why we do it. Touring is dirty and messy and leaves a huge footprint and Shannon [Leto, drums] brought it to us and said, ‘We should do something otwo
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about this.’ He’s the person who can take credit for getting the band on that train. Once you realise what’s really going on out in the world, it’s hard not to become actively involved. We’ve all implemented it in our personal lives and we share what do with other people who are interested.” The aforementioned single also lent its name to the website abeautifullie.org, which offers advice on how one can implement green-friendliness in their everyday lives. However, the band’s most spectacular achievement to date is arguably the video for From Yesterday, an 11-minute epic based upon The Last Emperor which was shot entirely in China. Such a feat was unheard of before the “insane mind of Jared” got to work. “He’s the mastermind behind those things. He’s very driven. We talked about this video when he pitched the idea, and he kept saying we should go and actually make it in China, and everyone said of course they won’t let us do it. People like to give you a lot of reasons not to do something, but Jared will often find a reason to do something and he’s often successful at it.” Indeed, a man of many talents for a group of many faces – “half a minute to another planet,” and going places for certain.
Diamonds Diamonds areaagirl’s girl’s are bestfriend friend best
MUSIC 9
Grace Duffy enjoys some sparkling conversation with Marina and the Diamonds
M
arina Diamandis is a breath of fresh air, in more ways than one. Earnest, straight-talking, opinionated and honest, she is effortlessly likeable and very charming. Discussing her background, she notes that from early on, her mixed Welsh and Greek heritage inspired her to seek out something different. “My dad listens to a lot of Greek folk and classic Greek singers that most British musicians don’t listen to – and then on the Welsh side, the way that I grew up really influenced what I aspire to be and the themes in my album.” She also describes how the music she grew up with cultivated and shaped her musical tastes. “My mum played people like Dolly Parton and Eurythmics, and they both had really strong songwriting. I really appreciate good songwriting and incredible lyrics, so that’s what I focus on. “Even though I love music now
I don’t focus on it as much as the lyrics. That’s the most important thing for me: telling a story.” It is interesting she should cite an appreciation for lyrics at this stage, as one of the most striking things about Marina’s music is her passionate and vocal lyrics. As the endearingly candid ‘I Am Not A Robot’, for instance, illustrates – “You’re vulnerable, you’re lovable, you are not a robot” – Marina is as skilled with the pen as she is with the keys. Perhaps her most refreshing song from a lyrical standpoint however, is ‘Girls’, which quips, “Girls they never hear from me / Because I fall asleep when they speak / Of all the calories they eat.” This frank attitude is important to Diamandis. “I’m sure there are many female musicians who believe in exactly the same thing and who don’t for example count calories, or act in a stereotypical way, but they never say anything. For me, that is pop culture at the moment, ‘cos for the past ten years that’s all we’ve
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bloody heard about and it makes me sick to see a gossip magazine saying, ‘Oh my god, she’s got a roll of fat on her stomach,’ and then another page saying ‘Oh my god, she’s dying of anorexia.’ The only reason they thrive is because the media are constantly giving us this image of what it is to be beautiful and perfect and many people don’t fit in with that. So if anything I would love to know that girls can, if not relate to me, relate to what I’m saying and believe it.” But who’s to blame for this culture of hypocrisy? “It’s women who are doing this, women write those magazines and... OK, I’m sure I’ve done loads of bad stuff in my life but I’m like, ‘How can you live with yourself, knowing that you’re influencing loads of people?’ “I really hate that part of society and I’m not gonna conform to what they expect people in the public eye to conform to so... I wonder what’ll happen in the next two years!” She laughs. Is it difficult, otwo wonders, to be so upfront with what you think in an industry where many would attempt to package you into a socially acceptable shrinking violet? “I see what you mean, but I haven’t experienced it yet and I think that’s because with my label, it’s a very small team and they know me very well, but... it is difficult, ‘cos you want to express yourself but you don’t want to be known as just a loudmouth.” As a one-woman band for all intents and purposes, Marina is also firmly in control of her own creation. She used to package and sell EPs directly from her MySpace
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page and says, “That’s just who I am. I look at statistics every day, I look at wages, I look at everything cos it’s so important to me that I have to be involved in everything. It helps that I did that in the beginning ‘cos the record label got it much quicker and with the EPs, I just think it’s good cos people realise that I am real and didn’t just come from some major label fantasy.” Indeed, Marina is very open with her fans, having cultivated a close relationship from the beginning. However, as the momentum around her becomes ever more hectic, she acknowledges in another characteristic display of blunt honesty that this has to suffer a little. “I haven’t got time anymore to blog, and it’s either, ‘Do you wanna sleep for six hours or do you wanna blog for an hour, sleep for five hours, and be tired and cranky?’ I will definitely return to it when things are less hectic, but there’s also the subject of thinking blogs aren’t really permanent – they aren’t taken that seriously – and if I want my ideas to be taken seriously I should put them in a song or write about it properly. “But, if they’re real fans they’ll be happy you’re having success, and that you’re not on a computer all day, you’re out fucking promoting your record and doing gigs and meeting other fans from all over the world.” In the words of Janice Dickinson: “Prepare to be dazzled, motherfuckers!” Marina and the Diamonds play Tripod on 27th May. Their debut album, The Family Jewels, is out now.
10 COLUMNS
It’s Jamie’s world... we just live in it Ever been embarrassed by your parents? Probably not as much as Jamie Martin has…
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ecently, while at dinner with my older sister who now has her own children, the conversation turned to motherhood – or, to be more specific, the darker side of motherhood. The side that leaves you scarred for the rest of your life. The side that leaves you with a complex. My sister made a bold declaration: she said that she would never lie to her children or force them into embarrassing situations, as a direct reaction to my tales of woe. Reminiscing, I told her stories of my childhood that she had missed. I told her of the horror of mandatory tennis lessons and how my mother, upon losing my white shorts in the wash, forced me to wear my illuminous orange swimming trunks to a lesson. “But Mum, there’s an all-white policy! They won’t let me in wearing these. Please don’t make me wear them Mum! PLEASE!” Of course, the response to this was, “Don’t be so silly! No one will even notice! Now run on in, you’ll be late.” Someone did notice. Everyone noticed. I think my mother confused the colours of ‘illuminous orange’ and ‘camouflage’, or something else similarly low on the radar. In fact, the people who designed safety jackets picked the colour illuminous orange for the very reason that it is noticeable. Joggers wear them at night to be noticed. First the other children began to point. As I walked in, I could feel my face growing hotter and hotter. It was only a matter of time before the club’s president came over and kindly asked me to vacate the tennis club. Mother’s wisdom, huh?
AGONY ANTO I used ta tink that all boggers did all day was grunt loudly and cut peat. Deze le’ers prove udderwise. Then I told my sister about the time myself and my older brother were on summer holidays in Donegal, and my mother and aunt thought that it would be hilarious to drive to Daniel O’Donnell’s house and make us go up to the door and “tell him your mum just loves his music!” Myself and my brother, probably about eleven and fourteen, pleaded with them for the whole drive to wee Daniel’s house and still found ourselves ringing the door bell. I kid you not: out came Daniel O’Donnell, a bath towel wrapped around his waist, unrinsed shampoo still in his hair, shaving foam on his face. Panicking, I looked at my brother. “My mother loves your music!” He blurted out. Daniel O’Donnell, all credit to him, deserves his nice guy reputation. He was very polite and even went over to the car, starkers except for the towel, to say hello to the wee Mammy and the wee Aunty. My sister, upon hearing all these stories pointed out that maybe it was these experiences that made me the person I am today. I agreed with her. These experiences have made me the person I am today. So if you have any problems with me, my behavior or the things I say or do, blame my mother.
Dear Anto, I’m not really going out with this girl, just sort of meeting her from time to time. Like for example, you decide to go to the cinema... Are you expected to pay for her ticket, her popcorn and drinks and the taxi home? And the next time you go how much are you expected to pay then? Or if you go to a nightclub like that great one on Camden Street, Bogger Faced Jacks, are you expected to pay her in, buy her a few drinks, bag of chips afterward and taxi home? I’m not tight or anything, I just don’t want to seem like I’m over/under spending on her. Yours, Johnboy Dear Johnboy, Ye seem te be concentrating extra hard on the ‘taxi-home’ bit. I tink yer a bit overly-keen on getting yer bit, which is fair enough, but it reeks a’desperation. Nutin wrong with wot yer doin’ – just payin yur way – but the way yur putting it makes yeh seem like a bit of a creepy fooker, to be honest wichya. “Help, I’ve got this girl-thing. What shud I do, throw money ar it?” …well in yur case, yes. An without forgetting the bag of chips either. In relation to yer problem, I’d say just go wit yur instinct. To me, she sounds like a bit of a tight-fooker whoreself. If dis is the case, just dump ‘er man. otwo
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No-one needs that type of sh/t stinking about the gaff. Yurs, Anto Anto, Jacinta here. Where the fook is my Valentine’s Day pressies, huh? It’s been a few days now and still nutin. Yer a scumbag, maggot and cheap lousy faggot, ye know dah? What? Are yeh startin’ on me now? Jus’ dowint let Anto Jr see it again. Enuf is enuf and der’s a fella dowin de road who sent me a real luvely box of choccies on Sunday. More than what you gave me… which was only herpes, ye little prick. I tore’up the card I writed fer you. Took me bleedin’ ages to make it rhyme: Roses are Red, Violets are blue; Go to de shop and get me twenny Blue. But I’m willin’ te take ye back if ye actually leg it down to the shop and get me some smokes, tinfoil and Johnny Onion Rings for Anto Jr Jr. Righ’? Luv, Jacinta Alrigh’ Jacinta, Any crack? I was gonna rob yeh sumthin nice for Valentines’ but the pigs chased me and I broke the feckin ting. Give Anto Jr Jr a bleedin slap across the arse. He can rob his own bleedin’ Onion Rings.
BOOK REVIEWS
REVIEWS 11
This Earth of Mankind Umer Rashid reviews the first of Pramoedya Ananta Toer’s ‘Buru Quartet’ - notable not only for its engaging account of love, but because it was written entirely in the mind... Political repression and social discrimination often tend to stimulate human creativity – so it’s no surprise that some of the world’s greatest works of literature were compiled in oppressive political milieu. Nothing exemplifies it better than the literary genius of Pramoedya Ananta Toer, popularly known as “Pram” in his native Indonesia. Frequently discussed as South East Asia’s best candidate for a Nobel Prize, Pram actively participated in Indonesia’s war of independence (1945-1949) against Dutch colonial rule that led to his imprisonment for two years (1947-1949), during which he wrote his first major novel The Fugitive. In post-independence Indonesia, his radical views earned him the wrath of Suharto’s regime that took power in 1965 in the wake of a bloody military coup that claimed more than half a million
lives. Pram was arrested and sent to the island of Buru where he served fourteen years of imprisonment without trial. Forbidden to write during imprisonment, Pram mentally composed and verbally narrated his stories to the fellow inmates in daily installments. This narrative was eventually published in a series of four novels known as the Buru Quartet. This Earth of Mankind is the first of this quartet. The plot centres on the experiences of an ambitious young boy, Minke, who is fortunate to be the only native Javanese to attend an elite Dutch school, thanks to his noble Javanese lineage. Minke is fascinated by the values of Enlightenment and European achievements such as the printer and telegraph. He looks askance at the superstitions and primitive customs of his fellow Javanese, writing in Dutch
newspapers and being chastised by his mother for refusing to write in his native language. On the other hand, Minke is deeply repulsed by the condescending attitude of the Dutch colonists and the institutionalized discrimination that classifies the people as pure (European), mixedblood and native in the descending order of social hierarchy. His world turns upside down when he meets Nyai Ontosoroh, a native concubine of a Dutch man, and falls in love with her beautiful Indo-European daughter, Annelies. This Earth of Mankind is an engrossing and engaging account of love, brutality and political awakening. Through the eyes of Minke, the reader learns to appreciate the beauty and cultural diversity of Indonesia, and gets insight into the injustices of Dutch colonial rule.
Pram is indeed a superb story-teller and after going through this work, I am increasingly tempted to get my hands on the other three novels of the Buru Quarter.
The State of Your Tucker LawSoc’s newest honorary member, American idiot Tucker Max, gets a slating from Jake O’Brien Have you ever wished for something you really, really wanted, more than anything else in the world? For some it’s a new car; maybe a Toyota with a functioning accelerator. For others it’s a companion to repel the pangs of isolation and loneliness. My wish, however, is to witness the untimely demise of one Tucker Max. I’d personally revel in watching his cocky charade of an existence come to an end at the hands of a tree surgeon, or perhaps a bona fide torture expert – someone as good with their hands as they are with tools and other nasty implements. This disgusting excuse for a cretin has agitated every foul inch on my body and mind. His intolerable fiendishness has polluted my cerebral cortex for longer than I’d care. Do not mistake this rage for jealously,
though – I have been down this road with too many others who have not made it back. This phallic underling has nothing I want. His brain retains no knowledge that I would lust after. He exists only as a one-man parade of filth and destruction, bringing harm to the name ‘degenerate’ wherever he goes and whenever he gets there. If we were to be totally honest with ourselves, we might discover that we all enjoy a quiet peek at foolishness and a stern look at insanity. However, this does not excuse the bold and intolerable nature of one Mr Max. This disgraceful vagabond seems to think that his success at an academic institute (University of Chicago) justifies to be the biggest ring-pirate on the face of this earth. To add to this, the fucker has otwo
paraded his acts upon an online journal, blogging his way into the empty spaces between the general public’s ears. “Oh, his stories are just so candid!” “Can you believe he drove his friend’s car into the front of a store window and just left it there?” That’s right: his friend’s car. What. A. Prick. All things aside, the fool decided, upon stellar advice from his ‘friends’ that putting the once-free blog into book form would be a novel idea. Of course this struck his generic thought process as an excellent idea. Why give away for free what you can charge money for? Unfortunately, this smooth move only served as a dick pump to his already swollen ego. But what do I know, right? Who am I to make this judgement call? Well, call me cautiously concerned about the moral decay of college societies. Call me someone who realises the irony and sarcasm of Mad Men and does not see it as a guidebook to life. No, actually. Go ahead. Put this inflated excuse for 16.02.10
a douche bag on a pedestal and see how that affects the fabric of your reality. See what kind of wishes come off your stars then. What. A. Prick. Tucker Max received an Honorary Life Membership from LawSoc earlier this month.
12 TRAVEL
Kris on a Bike: EXPLAINED
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ast Summer I was lucky enough to be among four good men on a cycling excursion across Europe. Beginning with a shaky break through a makeshift toilet paper starting line in Blackrock, and finishing six weeks later as we tumbled off a car ferry onto the Greek island of Antiparos. Here’s a vague list of everything I can think of that might make this sort of trip possible for anyone who fancies the challenge. I believe the main ingredients to be 90 per cent reckless optimism, mixed with a light smattering of general know-how and sensible preparation. It’s the smattering I’ll attempt to document. By far the most important thing to consider on a trip like this is your company. Preferably you want the kind of serious people that you would gladly follow into battle – but failing this, just bring some friends. Four is a good number; three can be claustrophobic, and with more than that it starts to get messy. Look for people who are easy-going, as long days can grind on anyone, and much of your time will be spent on lonesome stretches of beach or forest, with only your comrades and the darkness of the night for company. A route to suit everyone’s needs will make or break your trip. We chose a coastal route for immediate jumping-into-the-sea purposes, but any route through Europe will hold its own slices of brilliance, as long as mountain ranges are avoided (the Alps being a prime culprit). Mountains are not nearly as much fun as they sound, and they don’t even sound that fun to begin with. As far as equipment goes, try to bring a bike with as many gears as you can. All of them will definitely be used, as will a sexy little pair of black cycling shorts for the dual purposes of avoiding constant agony and a general fancy appearance. For the truly rugged adventurer this may suffice, but for the rest of us mere mortals we need a few luxuries such as water (best stored in camel packs or platypuses), for the rainy sort waterproof coverings for everything are a necessity – there is nothing more grisly than attempting to get to sleep in rain soaked gear. Also, your tent will be home for the duration of the trip, so a light but comfortable model is important. Nothing constructive is going
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to happen without at least a vague idea of where you’re going. Maps are very handy for this. Petrol stations are a great source of maps for large areas of the country in question, but when you’re entering a city, a more close-up view of the area might save you from being run over by a truck: therefore, keep an eye on Google Maps, and remember that GPS is officially considered cheating. All your gear can be held in two large panniers strapped over the back wheel of the bike, as well as a few extra treats such as knives, cooking stoves, headbands, reading material, a mascot, suntan lotion, lots of stickers, beards and passports. What makes a cycling trip worthwhile is simply
the fact that a bike allows an experience of your surroundings that no other form of transport can match. The feeling of constantly moving in one direction towards a goal is something I had never experienced before this trip, and the way every night the sun set just behind my right shoulder – whether I was in Athlone or Athens – was a something to write home about. So really, all that’s really needed is a borderline dangerous drive to succeed in a task and some sense of adventure, that and a few quid; roughly €1,500 should cover it.
I believe the main ingredients to be 90 per cent reckless optimism, mixed with a light smattering of general know-how and sensible preparation
”
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The Windy City Blues
TRAVEL 13
Deirdre Flannery showcases the best of America’s second city, Chicago
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he Windy City’s famous moniker comes not only from the gusty tendencies caused by its soaring skyline but was actually inspired by the tendency of Illinois’s politicians to shoot the breeze – one Mr Obama among them. Fresh from its Olympic bid effort and the inauguration of America’s current first family, Chicago has never been a more positive and vibrant city to visit. Although Chicago gets a thick covering of snow for four months of the year, you’ll be happy to learn than the natives keep every road and footpath gritted, so there is no fear of a lockdown during the long winters. Although the city is beautiful dressed in white over the winter, prospective visitors would be better advised to visit when the weather gets a little warmer, when full advantage can be taken of the city’s charms. The best way to admire the art deco architecture and the gothic towers that provide the backdrop for Gotham City is by boat along the Chicago River. Tours set out from Navy Pier, which is only a short stroll from Michigan Avenue – a fabulous stretch of high-end boutiques interspersed with more reasonably priced chain stores, and culminating in the beautiful Millennium Park. On the other end
of the avenue stands the John Hancock tower, Chicago’s second-tallest building, offering a thrifty view over the city from its top-floor restaurant. However, if you are willing to pay for your vistas, it’s well worth checking out the Willis Tower, more commonly known as the “Sears Tower”, America’s tallest building, where the new Skydeck allows visitors to stand on a piece of glass jutting out off the side of the tower. One of Chicago’s key assets is that its glorious coastline is only a ten-minute walk from the city centre. Down at Navy Pier, one might like to take a spin on the ferris wheel or rent a bike and take a trip down to the beach, which is thronged with volleyball players and sun worshippers during the summer months. Those willing to stroll a little further outside the city might like to stop by Lincoln Park, a student hub, full of Irish bars and extremely
popular with J1 students. Wrigleyville is also a crowded night spot, and home to local baseball heroes the Chicago Cubs. Wicker Park attracts more of a hipster crowd and is littered with thrift stores and indie bars. Those with an interest in the arts are also advised to visit the city’s Art Institute, acknowledged as one of the finest galleries in the world. Chicago’s other cultural draw is obviously its blues scene, Buddy Guy’s Legends being one of the best bars to check out local and international talent. Blues Brothers fans might also like to check out House of Blues, chock-full of kooky memorabilia and regularly hosting rock, metal and blues stars. Second City is also worth a look, as the comedy club that kick started the careers of much of the Saturday Night Live crew. Chicago has something for everyone, and I am yet to meet a visitor that did not fall in love with the city – some of the Irish people I met during my time there liked it so much that they never left! A week in this ever-changing city should be on everyone’s agenda.
A Fresh London Look
Alex Court extols the virtues of London’s lesser-known Brixton
Most of us have done the London tourist experience - but rushing to tick the landmarks off your list, you may have missed the truth of the town. My advice is to pocket the guide book. Take the Victoria tube line from Victoria train station four stops southbound, and re-surface in Brixton. This pocket of Afro-Jamaican markets is unparalleled. Imagine the Moore St Market spanning for miles. Turn left out of the Tube station, past a supermarket, and take the first lane left. Smells will stun you instantly: a mix of cranberries, mixed spices, raw fish, cooking vegetables and sweaty socks. Reggae music is mixed with voices singing
and voices selling. You may be confronted by Christian fanatics intent on bringing you into God’s embrace. A keen salesman might be certain you need 15 packs of red hair extensions - or a mobile phone? No matter how well-travelled you are, you will see vegetables and carcasses you never knew existed. Halal butchers, with broad bushy beards, will wield sharp swords for dicing their produce. The open street quickly reaches an intersection. Great graphic graffiti! Cross the road and catapult into the covered market. It’s another world; you can buy anything from a perm to 12” records. There is music and an exciting hubbub. Fragrances, not all legal, are not for the frail. otwo
Visit Rosie’s café and she’ll let you choose the music. I once asked, pointing at a bottle I didn’t recognise, if it was beer. The answer I received in an accent which encompassed Spain, Portugal and Austria was “there is no alcohol in this house.” I ordered orange juice and mushroom risotto. Scrumptious. Bar seats face the wide windows. Grab something tasty and watch the passing characters. You don’t need a book or iPod - all the entertainment you will want is there already: tall, gangly Rastas with dreadlocks and rotting teeth; plump African woman colourfully covered in sheets and headdresses; orthodox Jews, kippah and all; Football-loving, track suit 16.02.10
wearing geezers. Which one of these secluded strangers is you? When you’ve had your fill, pay the bill – it’ll be cheaper than anywhere else in this sprawling city of millions – and hop back on the Tube. The tourist hotspots will look far more alive once you do.
The Book of Samuel His starring roles have grossed over $2.6 billion, he’s one of Hollywood’s coolest action men, and one of his more recent films spawned the most viral movie quote in decades. So what is Samuel L. Jackson doing outside O’Reilly Hall on a furiously cold Saturday night in the middle of february? Conor Barry finds out When a Hollywood King of Cool of the calibre of Samuel L. Jackson is describing to you what he’s been up to over the weekend, it’s not unreasonable to expect the conversation to go a certain way. Partying until the early morning? Hijacking a golf buggy and driving it down the M50? All definite possibilities, one might suspect. Well, as it transpires, not so. “I’ve been sleeping a lot,” he cheerfully suggests, a tone of inquisition in his voice, as if to say, ‘Is this what you were expecting?’ The difference between the public Samuel L. Jackson and the real life Sam Jackson is – seemingly – pretty vast. For a man renowned for lines such as “I’ve had it with these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane” and “I’m the foot fucking master”, witnessing Samuel L. Jackson speak gently about making his own personal contribution to help the lives of Irish children with autism is an experience bordering on the surreal and the downright strange. Dressed in an impressivelooking tuxedo and managing to make his thickframed, round, Harry Potter-style glasses actually look cool, Jackson speaks about why he uses his status to help the particular cause he has chosen.
“We do our best to create awareness, to give something back to all the people that support us and this is one of the ways we can do that,” he says. “You know, by supporting charities, supporting children that need our help. We spent a lot of our energies going to underdeveloped countries, and we kind of forget that there are people close by who need our help also.” The ‘we’ that Jackson refers to is his own charity organisation, called (predictably) the Samuel L. Jackson foundation. Despite the profile inherently attached to the organisation by virtue of its A-list name, it is difficult to pin down what specifically the Foundation does – with its actions varying between donating money to educational foundations, Aids initiatives, orphanages and other worthy causes around the world as they come up. Last Saturday, 13th February, saw the Foundation providing for yet another cause, as UCD hosted the ‘Night of Love’ in the O’Reilly Hall – a red carpet, glitz-‘n’-glamour night of Irish celebrities and top class entertainment in association with Irish Autism Action. The night was a matter very close to the heart of co-organiser and co-host Keith Duffy,
“We spent a lot of our energies going to underdeveloped countries, and we kind of forget that there are people close by who need our help also”
who has been involved with the latter charity since his own daughter, Mia, was born with autism nine years ago. “What’s special about tonight is obviously we have a global superstar, Samuel L. Jackson, flying into Ireland to host the event,” Duffy says, outside the venue questionably described as ‘magnificent’ by the event’s publicity handlers. “Why it’s important to me is it’s not only about fundraising, it’s not only about making money and providing services. It’s also about awareness. It’s about helping people understand what autism is. There’s a huge ignorance out there and people don’t really know what autism is. So it’s trying to get that message across, and trying to educate people on this disability – and let people know that there are ways of helping these children, educating these children, and helping these children reach their true potential in life. And, unfortunately, that’s not provided through the state so we have to provide it ourselves. But the more noise we make, the more awareness we get.” Jackson himself seemed to be in a similar vein about the issue. How did he become involved with the event – and how did he become aware of the work of Irish Autism Action? “I’d been doing events in Europe,” he says deeply, looking over the rims of his perfectly circular spectacles. “My European publicity person has been trying to put me together with different people in Europe to sponsor events. We started looking around for different charities in the country, and she discovered the Irish Autism Action. I have some friends in America who have a big autism society and they have an autistic child also. And having been around him and watching him grow, and watch it blossom because of all the work
that they did – well, that was one of the things that made me say, ‘Well, that’s a wonderful thing that we should attach ourselves to’ – maybe bring those two charities together. Hopefully through my foundation, and their foundation, I’ll be able to spread the word to some other people in America – maybe be able to cross hands over this pond, and do some really good things for autism.” Of course, when Jackson’s not doing his bit to help effect change within the wider world, he has been known to star in the odd film. So is Jackson conscious of his prolific cool guy image? “About four more years and I’ll be too old for it. We’ll see what happens.” This seems openly debatable: considering the man is already 61 years of age and seems to be looking better – and cooler – than ever, it seems unlikely that he’ll ever be able to shake off his public persona. It’s this badass image that has shaped Jackson’s career, skyrocketing him to become one of the highest grossing film stars since his breakthrough performance in Pulp Fiction in 1994. Interestingly, Jackson has become renowned for actually enjoying watching his own films, his methodology for choosing his work being simple: he picks the sorts of roles that he would like to watch. What does he think, therefore, about the likes of Johnny Depp who famously insist on never watching their own performances? “Johnny Depp should get another job,” Jackson quips with a knowing smile. “Everybody feels about it differently. I don’t know why he wouldn’t. I’m sure there’s time he sits down and watches his films and he is very critical of them. I don’t know how he judges whether he can act or not. That’s Johnny.”
Clockwise from left: Jackson on the golf course, with John Travolta in Pulp Fiction and in a scene from Snakes on a Plane
“About four more years and I’ll be too old for it. We’ll see what happens” As it turns out, this is not Jackson’s first time setting foot on Irish soil. As well as having performed at the Gate Theatre, Jackson makes sure to visit from time to indulge in one of his lesser-known loves: a round of golf. Golf is so important to Jackson, in fact, that his film contracts contain a clause stating that Jackson must be given at least two days off each week of a film shoot, in order to allow him further his passion. On this visit, Jackson found himself in a bizarre golf pairing with Ronan Keating. How did he get on? “I played well, actually. I had a good time out there. It wasn’t as cold as I thought it would be, and the golf course [The K Club in Straffan, Co Kildare] was a lot of fun and challenging. I’ll be back.” Jackson, however, remained strangely cryptic about the ultimate outcome of the game. “I have no idea who won because I was not part of the competition. They made me play with a lot of different people so I didn’t get to actually keep a score.” Sounds suspiciously like the excuse of someone who didn’t win – not, of course, that one would dare say so to his face. So what comes next in the Samuel L. Jackson story? Though the casual globetrotting, the high-calibre golfing (he later admits to playing off a respectable handicap of six, in comparison to Keating’s 18) lifestyle and the commendable charity work would themselves make for a sufficiently decadent lifestyle, naturally – and not at all unexpectedly for a man of his acting pedigree – the call of the camera will prove too small to resist for long. After his brief appearance as Nick Fury (based on a comic book character who in turn was modelled after Jackson himself… I know, trippy, right?) after the closing credits of Iron Man, Jackson has been signed up for a whole host of superhero films. “I’m working on Iron Man 2 at the moment; then they’re doing Thor, and Captain America comes next, and I don’t know when The Avengers will come but eventually there will be one. It’s not happening just yet.” While it’s great that Jackson is using his celebrity status to help out with worthy causes on a global scale, it’s good to know that we we’re still a few years away from losing the coolest member of Hollywood’s elite from the silver screen. Though he may question how long his cool guy image will last, if Nick Fury is anything to go, Samuel L. Jackson has a proverbial ton of coolness left in him yet.
16 FASHION
Ethical Elegance:
FASHION WITH A CONSCIENCE Seán McGovern takes a discerning eye to the
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myriad of elegant styles out there, and explains how fashion purchases can be made with a clear conscience
he Light House Cinema in Smithfield served as the location for a welcome culture clash, as the sleek lines and playful levels became the home for a showcase of affordable vintage and new-but-classic designs. Sourced from a range of outlets, including South Dublin-based online retailer Epoch Boutique, as well as Oxfam on George’s Street, the styles on display came from easily accessible places. Oxfam in particular offers an opportunity that is occasional at best – a chance to buy classic looks at affordable prices, with all the proceeds going to charity, as well as giving new life to an old garment. The quality and range of the gowns pictured here is only a small indication of the calibre of clothes that can be bought as completely ethical purchases.
Epoch Boutique, an online clothing company operating in Deansgrange, focuses not only on vintage clothing handpicked from sellers worldwide, but also the literal art of recycling, with bags and skirts made from old neckties, and leather jackets turned into bags featuring their original zips and jacket detailing. Their range of products consists of clothes ranging from detailed lace blouses, tennis dresses and vintage bags and skirts. The remarkable aspect is just how well these classic looks blended with more contemporary designs. The outfits were complimented with looks from TopShop and H&M, showing the versatility of looks not of our time combined with purchases easily found on the high street.
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FASHION 17
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18 FASHION
Zoë wears: Vintage black dress, €20 Maroon Nougat dress, €20 Vintage veiled bow hat, €15 All of the above from Oxfam, George’s Street Shoes are model’s own Ciara wears: Vintage lace blouse, €25 from Epoch Boutique (www.epochboutique.ie) Black button-up skirt, stylist’s own Velvet corset, €13 from the Dublin Flea Market
Houndstooth skirt, stylist’s own Shoes, model’s own Deirdre wears: Velvet halter neck dress, €20 Velvet jacket, €15, both from Oxfam Vintage yellow peplum blouse, €20 from Epoch Boutique Black button-up skirt, stylist’s own (from Oasis) Black box bag, from Epoch Boutique Shoes, model’s own
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Stylist: Seán McGovern Style Assitant: Zoë Coleman Art Direction: Seán McGovern Models: Zoë Coleman, Ciara Fitzpatrick and Deirdre Murphy Photographers: Emer Igbokwe and Colin Scally Special thanks to the Light House Cinema, Smithfield, Dublin 7 More photos from this shoot can be seen at www.universityobserver.ie/otwo/fashion
Fish or Steak?
TELLYRAND 19
No, this isn’t Pat Kenny asking Colin Sweetman what he’d like to eat – it’s actually his metaphor for explaining the difference between radio and television presenting…
I
nterviewing someone who himself has been interviewing for as long as I have been alive is a bit strange, to say the least. Twenty-one years gives you the feeling that turning interviewer into interviewee will prove a bit ironic, if not judicial. Of course, some people find Pat Kenny a bit disagreeable: particularly after the controversy over asserting squatters rights on his Gorse Hill garden, but also – and for the most part – for his interviewing style on iconic Irish broadcasts such as Today Tonight and The Late Late Show. But I’m not such a person as would throw the first stone here. After two years of interviewing people part-time (and usually through the medium of a phone call rather than in person), I prefer to say that Kenny does a really good job, considering the circumstances. The only thing I can accuse him of is not using as much tact on television as he does on radio, and I’m sure there are reasons for this. “Television is always more difficult because there’s always a lot more stuff going on around you,” is Kenny’s more than acceptable response to this. “I mean, before you actually do a programme there are lights, cameras, microphones, earpieces in my ear, makeup, wardrobe… all that sort of stuff. But with radio, you literally just roll in, and if you roll in at a minute
to 10… you’re on time! But if it’s four minutes past ten, you’re late.” But I doubt – and Kenny confirms – that the working hours aren’t the best part of radio presenting: “You could be in your pyjamas, your slippers, and you’re on radio. Television takes no prisoners.” But that’s just the impact the medium has on the presenter. What most people fail to consider is that airing a weekly show on a Friday night – a night more prone to being spent in a nightclub – is difficult in terms of celebrity pulling power. “The tyranny of the Late Late was that you had to find somebody who was interesting, and who were available to be in Dublin on a Friday night. You know, that is the big challenge. If you’re in London, there’s no shortage of people, you’ll always find guests – but in Dublin you’ve got to persuade people to make the jump across if they’re international stars, and that can be hard.” So here I can make the notvery-bold assumption that giving up your Friday night for ten years, while trying to build up a rapport with current celebrities throughout the other weekdays, can be a very
“You could be in your pyjamas, your slippers, and you’re on radio. Television takes no prisoners”
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strenuous activity. At least it pays handsomely. Kenny reckons he got out of the Late Late at the right time, however, carefully avoiding the image which appears at the mention of Gay Byrne’s name, and choosing to return to his current affairs roots in hosting The Frontline, RTÉ’s successor to Questions & Answers. But why did he do it? “These shows are different phases in my life,” he contemplates. “I used to do a lot of politics before, on a programme called Today Tonight, and I never anticipated that I’d be gone to talkshows for 21 years. I mean, I saw that as maybe a five or six-year venture. But then Kenny Live took off, and then the Late Late.” Kenny simply saw 21 years as a long time to be doing the same thing. “I didn’t want to be doing it so long that he couldn’t end up doing something else, and I’m happy now with Frontline.” Not to make it seem like the Late Late was his show, but I have to ask: how does Pat Kenny think Ryan Tubridy compares? “I think he’s doing very well. From his point of 16.02.10
view, I don’t know how he’s feeling about the demands that it makes, because it’s not just doing the show – it’s doing it every Friday night, 37 shows a year, and maybe not for one or two years but for ten. That’s the measure of the task: how you feel after five or six years.” In terms of general change, however: “The Late Late Show is like a chameleon. If you go back to Gay’s early years, it was a light summer show. Then it became a forum for national debate. It will change, and if it doesn’t change it will atrophy. The challenge for anybody presenting it – whether it’s Ryan Tubridy or me or Gay – is to try keeping it fresh over the tenure.” At this, I just shake Pat Kenny’s hand – mostly because I feel that I’m probably not anywhere near his level in terms of interviewing (I need clearer diction, to be honest). Our interview occurred moments after Kenny himself had interviewed one of Ireland’s few billionaires, Denis O’Brien – an interview which, if I’m honest, was abundantly boring. Here’s hoping this interview wasn’t the same.
20 FILM & TV
Reviews EVERYBODY’S FINE Director: Kirk Jones Starring: Robert De Niro, Drew Barrymore, Kate Beckinsale In cinemas: 26th February Oh dear – what to say about Everybody’s Fine. Before I went into the cinema it was a beautiful morning. The sun was shining with the first semblance of warmth we’ve had this year: the first morning of spring. I was thinking of having a look around the shops afterwards and maybe buying a new dress, spending the last of my Christmas money. When the film was over, I wanted to hurl myself into the Liffey. The story features Robert De Niro as a retired widower with four grown-up children who all live far away and don’t talk to him much. When they all cancel a weekend visit to their dear old
INVICTUS
Director: Clint Eastwood Starring: Morgan Freeman, Matt Damon In cinemas: Now
Morgan Freeman has had a pretty epic selection of roles throughout his cinematic career. In the hierarchy of man he’s played everything from an impoverished driver to a judge, to the Director of the CIA, to the US President. He’s even played God – twice. The latest addition to Freeman’s cinematic portfolio is one after which he has long sought: that of Nelson Mandela. Set in 1994, Invictus charts Mandela’s first fifteen months in power in South Africa, arriving amid mass civil unrest as
dad, he decides to get on a bus across the country to surprise them. His kids are not as happy and successful as they had let him believe, however, and there are a lot of unresolved issues about their childhood. Unfortunately, despite the interesting plot and a top-notch performance from De Niro, this film is a wall-to-wall misery fest, depressing from the off and going downhill from there. The most disappointing thing is that many of the elements are very good. The acting is superb – not just from De Niro but his adult children played by Drew Barrymore, Sam Rockwell and Kate Beckinsale. We don’t see enough of them though – just the rough elements of their relationship with their dad. Much is left unsaid and it could have lifted the mood if we were let in a bit more to their lives. The characters and story feel realistic, but there’s more to a good film than the deposed white minority struggle to accept the new ruling black classes, and the difficulty encountered by the new rulers in placating the fears of the whites that their own culture might be destroyed by the long-oppressed blacks. Mandela identifies the 1995 Rugby World Cup – itself being held in South Africa – as a chance to unite the country behind a common goal, and Invictus follows his campaign to unite the black population (who see the national side, the Springboks, as a symbol of oppression, playing an elitist game and wearing the imperial colours of myrtle green and gold) with the whites. To do this, he calls in team captain Francois Pienaar (Damon), who embodies the white population as they learn to respect their new President. Invictus represents another Eastwood shot at showcasing the unique ability sport holds to capture the collective imagination of a nation in a way that few other activities can. Intertwined otwo
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realism. Bereavement, aging and death are all very real, but I don’t want to spend two hours having them rammed in my face – it was like the Ludovico technique from A Clockwork Orange, but instead of violent films being forced down my eyeballs, it was pure concentrated depression. Sad films can be enjoyable but you need some sort of payoff: an uplifting resolution, a meaningful message, or at least a good cry. I think the final message of Everybody’s Fine was to be more honest with your family but I’d basically lost the will live by then. In a Nutshell: If contemplating suicide and trying to gather the courage to jump, this is the movie for you. Otherwise use the money to buy something cheerful, like a ticket to a different movie. Emer Sugrue
with this is the showcase of Mandela’s slow but successful emotional integration of two warring factions of his country’s population – a subplot that deserves any number of films devoted to it. In attempting to tell a sporting story and a political one, sadly neither is ultimately told as best it could be. What may have been a glorious opportunity to present the world with an overdue Mandela biopic is squandered by including a story based on a sport that few understand. Similarly, what for rugby aficionados could have been truly enthralling, is diluted by the long indulgences in politics. Freeman (as ever) and Damon are superb and compelling, but sport and politics rarely make for easy bedfellows in real life, let alone the silver screen. In a Nutshell: An adequate sporting story, an interesting political one, but a disappointingly average marriage of both. Gavan Reilly
THE WOLFMAN
FILM & TV 21
Directed by: Joe Johnston Starring: Benicio Del Toro, Emily Blunt, Anthony Hopkins In cinemas: Now Joe Johnston - the genius director behind The Adventures of Young Indiana Jones: Spring Break Adventure is back. The Wolfman is a remake of the 1941 classic, coming in the wave of the supernatural/ sexually repressed teenager craze. Clearly trying to cash in on Taylor Lautner’s rippling werewolf success, this is a by-the-numbers pseudohorror film with some fantastic actors who really should have known better. The film follows Lawrence Talbot, who returns to London from America after hearing of his brother’s demise at the hands of some preternaturally strong beast, and takes it upon himself to investigate. Nothing could possibly go wrong, until he is bitten by a strange creature and so on and so forth for a good two hours. Special mention should go to Anthony Hopkins and Hugo Weaving, who are predictably brilliant, and save the film from utter ruin. Weaving is as charismatic and cool as ever as Detective Francis Aberline, and the film lights up whenever his muttonchopped face appears on screen, which unfortunately happens far too infrequently. Benicio del Toro and Emily Blunt both do passably well, but they honestly have decisively little to work with. You could cast Laurence Olivier as the protagonist and he’d
MOVIE KISSES Sure, Valentine’s Day is gone, but in the movies Stephanie Wallace Chavanne always finds time for love…
still have to contend with wearing a modified gorilla suit and looking a tit every time there’s a full moon. The ‘wolfman’ scenes really are the downfall of this film. Werewolves have always been difficult to depict cinematically, but Johnston’s particular blend of CGI and putting-del-Toro-in-a-bighairy-suit does not give him the terrifying nocturnal killer he was going for. Granted, we’ve come a long way since American Werewolf in London, but the effect is at best passable, at worst unintentionally hilarious. On the positive side, Johnston does capture brilliantly the period feel of the piece, and depicts industrial-era London (particularly scenes in Lambeth Asylum) with a gripping Gothic feel and, at times, genuine cinematic flair. However, as pretty as it all is, it’s instantly forgotten once an inordinately hairy del Toro runs onstage. In a nutshell: Watch Teen Wolf; at least there’s a gory bit at the end. Jon Hozier-Byrne
The Kinky Kiss: Spiderman Though Kirsten Dunst looks ten most of the time, here she’s more like Rachel Wood in Thirteen than Torrance Shipman in Bring It On. An upside-down kiss in the rain with the notable absence of a bra, kissing the town superhero while involved with another man? What every girl dreams of.
The Indie Kiss: 500 Days of Summer I refuse to include the Juno kiss in this – so the only two indie movies worth a mention are The Squid and the Whale and 500 Days of Summer. The latter takes the gong just because of its kisses in Ikea with Chinese families watching.
The ‘Don’t do it!’ Kiss: Teeth Though the movie is messed up for the most part (I’ve yet to find any guy who can watch the whole thing) and is fraught with horror, the best scene is when Dawn and Tobey kiss. No blood is shed, but everyone grips their seat, mourning Tobey like he’s their own best friend being led astray.
The ‘That’s just WRONG! Kiss: Cruel Intentions and Not Another Teen Movie Both of these lesbian kisses are wrong, but for different reasons. With the former, the amount of saliva used is dizzying; with the latter, the kids’ jumper is just wrong.
The Polite Kiss that Messes Up Your Life: It’s a Wonderful Life Though the movie ends with James Stewart not topping himself in the end, his entire mess starts when he kisses Mary Hatch. Next thing he knows, he’s down the aisle, woman in white in tow. The Romantic Breathtaking Kiss: Milk A gay politican and a great kisser. The tenderness between Sean Penn (as Harvey Milk) and James Franco is so beautiful, it could be used in arguments for legalising gay marriage. Cary Grant and Eva Marie Saint have nothing on these two. The Other Notable Gay Kiss Scene: Brokeback Mountain What begins as a show of restraint, when Jack returns and embraces Doug, becomes one of the most passionate, and yet tender and happy kisses. This kiss belongs in an airport with great music in the background.
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The Woman In Charge Kiss: To Have and Have Not Probably one of the funniest and most realistic kisses ever. Lauren Bacall’s character is empowered and smoking hot, with a great sense of humour. Her reasoning for kissing Humphrey Bogart (“Been wondering whether I’d like it”) and the second kiss to help make her mind up (“It’s even better when you help”) are timeless. The Classic Kiss: Lady and The Tramp We’ve all seen it and we’ve all seen attempts to remake it, but nobody will ever do it as cutely as these mutts do. The Childhood Kiss: My Girl We’ve all been there before – fancying your best friend and not knowing if you’d end up together – but hopefully an allergy to bees didn’t decide that for you. Probably one of the sweetest and saddest kisses ever caught on film.
22
FILM & TV
Oscar the Grouch The Oscars are coming! Hooray! Or, well, not actually hooray, according to an unimpressed and uninspired Conor Barry
O
scar buzz is at fever pitch… or so I’m told by people who talk like that. Yes, it’s that time of year again when the industry gathers together to give themselves a royal pat on the back and say, “We’re brilliant!” And, to be fair, the last year has been quite impressive, with 2009 being less franchise-encrusted than previous years. Does this mean that there’s going to be a close call for the number one spot? Well, no, but we’ll get to that. A new addition for this year’s awards is the choice to have ten shortlisted nominations for Best Picture, rather than the standard five. Which begs the question: well, why? In theory, it sort of makes sense – it gives a broader group of films the opportunity of winning that little golden man of their filmmaking dreams. But in actuality it does no such thing, because it’s pretty much been predetermined who’s going to win. Sure, there’s a little bit of fighting going on between Avatar and The Hurt Locker for that number one spot (and, at a push, Inglourious Basterds) but that leaves seven others being teased with their nomination. And apart from maybe District 9, there’s nothing especially unusual on the list. There’s Crazy Heart – pretty much The Wrestler with a guitar. There’s Precious – which seems to be trying too hard to be “an Oscar film”. If the idea is to broaden the kind of films voted for, the Academy could, at least, have put Star Trek in there. Hell, if they were going for variety, why not throw in Paul Blart: Mall Cop? Of course, there are more awards than just Best Picture and some of them are pretty tight races. For instance, the Best Actor category is anyone’s call between Jeff Bridges, George Clooney and Colin Firth. But other sections hardly even need to be contested, with the competitive
aspect seeming more out of courtesy than anything else. Best Animation? Up. Best Supporting Actor? Christopher Waltz (the Nazi in Inglourious Basterds. Yeah, he was great). The Academy, in reality, might as well just skip the whole process and just send the inevitable winners their little men in the post. And is there really even any point in having any films other than Avatar in the visual effects category? Apart from the visuals it’s really not got
“Is there really even any point in having any films other than Avatar in the visual effects category?” much going for it. Of particular interest this year is the Animated Feature category. Sure, Up will definitely win, but it has impressive competition. In comparison to last year’s otwo
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Bolt, Kung Fu Panda and WALL-E, this year actually varies from the whole ‘CGI animal does something whacky’ genre, and has a mixture of stop-motion and hand-drawn features to liven things up – not to mention The Secret of Kells, an Irish-produced feature. Still, Up will slaughter it, but it’s lovely that we’re being considered nonetheless. What else is there to look forward to? There are all the other nominations for documentaries, editing, and the illustrious sound mixing categories, but these people aren’t as attractive as the George Clooneys of the night, so let’s move swiftly on. According to fashionable women, the evening’s dresses are a point of interest. Here’s hoping that Marilyn Monroe outdoes herself this year, because last year’s ill-concieved gorilla costume was frankly a bit of an embarrassment. But what may actually turn out to be the most genuinely interesting part of the night is the choice of Alec Baldwin and Steve Martin as co-hosts. Although everyone would prefer to witness their inevitable on-screen chemistry in some sort of buddy cop sitcom, their sure to be charming segues should suffice. All in all: women will wear nice clothes, the chosen favourites will probably win, and famous people will have a nice big party. Boy howdy, it’s going to be a tight race. Except it won’t; it will be a really unfair race with too many contestants. Perhaps I’m just bitter because I know A Serious Man has practically no chance – and in fairness, The Hurt Locker more than deserves to win a statue or two. The main fear is Avatar. Sure it looks pretty, but if James Cameron’s 3D Pocahontas manages to pull another Titanic we may as well just give up on films now. But perhaps that’s a tad over-dramatic. We may live in hope.
Orient Expres s
REVIEWS 23
An uneasy Gavan Reilly is bowled over by the food and service at Yamamori on Ormond Quay
Ode to a Hangover A poetic indulgence to the morning after from Jake O’Brien
As someone who’s had the rare pleasure of eating Japanese food in its homeland, there’s something I usually find quite vacuous and plastic about Japanese eateries in Ireland. Dublin’s mushrooming bog-standard sushi joints have taken the nationality out of the food, and picking up a plastic box of ‘sushi’ (where every ingredient is British) from certain chain supermarkets doesn’t cut it. So when I was offered a restaurant review in a Japanese eatery with outlets on both sides of the Liffey, I felt a little uneasy. I need not have worried. Yamamori Sushi, only two years old and sitting beside the north end of the Hapenny Bridge, was a serious treat. Striking the perfect balance between its physical and spiritual locations, the startlingly enormous premises pitches the ideal blend of oriental authenticity without ever appearing contrived or inauthentic. They say it’s a good sign when a restaurant is busy on a quiet night; on a miserable Monday evening, the vast restaurant was buzzing in every corner, but is laid out in such a way as to provide quieter crannies for more sedate occasions. The food is more than the stereotypical raw-fish-on-a-plate and Yamamori do a top job in showcasing the rest of the fare. Although the starters – I took a Beef Tataki while my +1 was offered a Nami Mori platter of sushi and sashimi – were indeed raw food, they were much more exotic and flavoured than your average M&S six-pack. The platter in particular was top notch, and enormous, with gorgeous chunks of fresh salmon and tuna. For mains, +1 chose a Bento
F Box (again, huge, showcasing the restaurant’s strengths in both meat and fish, cooked and otherwise) while my Ankou Teri monkfish was juicy, rich, flavoursome and faultless. The dessert special, a white chocolate cake, was equally fabulous, while the whole thing was washed down with authentically imported Japanese red ale and wheat beers for me, and a Japanese Pinot Gris for the lady. If you have a stomach for cooked food that doesn’t need to be incinerated, it’s for you. Simply put, everything about Yamamori is top notch. The service is magnificent; every one of the five staff otwo met on the night were gentlemanly, swift and even the toilets (warm with lush tiling, and some kind of super-fancy Dyson Airblade that actually dries your hands!) and the artwork – “Ireland’s second-largest collection of authentic Japanese art, after the Japanese Embassy”, according to the proud duty manager – merit special mention. The price might be a pinch beyond your average student budget, but for special occasions or if you’re being treated, you could do worse than take a quick satisfying stroll into another world. Yamamori Sushi, 38-39 Lower Ormond Quay, Dublin 1. (01) 872 0003, www.yamamorisushi.ie otwo
orlorn is my soul; pain is my name. Desperate degradation downplays the throbbing in my head. The fleeting moments of blind euphoria upon waking succumb to retrospective regret. Clouds of guilt and dehydration festoon the body, leaning occasionally towards nausea and discourses of feigned hysteria. Moving a single muscle is an act of heroism that rivals that of even the most esteemed action star – yet heroics are a passing thought in a hurricane of passive aggressive bylines. I’ve woken mere hours after laying my head down to rest on a couch arm that I considered my most beloved friend the night before. The arm is now my enemy; after all, I was only using it; taking advantage of its kind support and stability. But it knows that now, and the pain it has inflicted upon my neck is only comparable to that in my head. Disgusting flashbacks parade through my memory. Images of falling over in several places and vomiting in a McDonald’s bin remind me that the zeitgeist I thought I was last night was nothing but a shrewd trick played on me by that beast better known as Jim Beam. Oh Lord, what haven’t I done? What grave errors have I made? What phone calls do I have to make? Whose house am I in? Is this a house? Yes. We can be concrete in that fact at least. Why, oh why, in the name of all that is holy would we do this to ourselves, and so repetitively? Here’s why: Because the feeling of complete confidence and lack of any modern sense of inhibition is a blessing dressed in diamonds to us. Colour me stupid – colour me shitfaced for all I care. I feel good
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and that’s all that matters. Set aside those pangs of anxiety you feel as you stare into the depths of your first drink. Just know that the poison in front of you is the medicine. The blur begins: “Fuck you buddy! I’ll dance wherever the hell I want! No, I don’t want no water...that shit’s for pussies!” A cocky swagger and a pint of the cheapest soaked in whatever liquor’s on promotion. That’s all we need tonight. It’s we now. I’m not going down in this boat alone. You better believe that, douchebag. Which brings us back to the couch and the anguish we are bathed in. I swear I’ll never touch a drop again. Well, at least not for a couple of weeks. There’s a 21st on Friday... but nothing until then. Homeward with a dirty breakfast roll featuring some sports drink or other. The cigarette feels good for a while, but becomes nauseating – like everything else. After six or seven episodes of Arrested Development the phone rings. Drinks? I really shouldn’t. Fuck it. Hair of the dog and all that jazz.
24 UNDERGROUND SOUND
Kat Got Your Tongue? Giggly and talkative Gallic songstress Kat Cross can’t wait to make it to Ireland, she tells Alison Lee
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ven the staunchest patriot would be hard-pressed to think of something good to say about Ireland right now. Look at the economy, the floods, the snow, the government… is there anything other countries would envy about us? Yes, actually: our music industry. Kat Cross and Trevor O’Neill, of the band Kat Cross & Talkative, can’t wait to bringing their live show to our shores. Trevor is of Irish extraction while Kat hails from Toulouse. On being asked if it’s difficult for musicians to make their mark in France, she replies instantly. “I think it’s difficult – we don’t have the same culture as you; you are in a great part of the world for music!” Trevor adds that in France, “It’s
a more complicated affair” for artists to get a foothold. So, fellow citizens, we have one thing to smile about. The band kicks off their first international tour here in UCD on 22nd February, followed by dates in Trinity, Crawdaddy, Roisín Dubh in Galway and Electric Avenue in Waterford. They’ll be playing alongside local acts – as Trevor puts it, “It allows us to make the most of having a different audience. We’re not an obscure band, we’re very successful but we’re not known in Ireland.” A lucky encounter with famous trip-hop artist Tricky was instrumental in ushering Kat’s music into the spotlight. According to Kat, “I met him in 2003 in Toulouse. I gave him a CD and he called me two days later and said ‘Your music is beautiful, I want to help you.’” Trevor adds, “When somebody famous believes in what you’re doing, it gives you a big boost of confidence.” What is it about Kat’s music that gets even big
Astro Boys Irish three-piece God Is An Astronaut are something of a family affair, as frontman Torsten Kinsella tells otwo. Kinsella shares guitar duties with his brother Niels, and their father’s musical background ensured the boys grew up in an artistic family. “My father is a bass player. He played on the showband scene in the Sixties, so he taught us how to play. We’re all bass players and guitarists here.” The brothers shared musical tastes growing up, something which aided their coming together in the band. “It was always kind of similar,” says Torsten of himself and his brother’s palettes. “Niels was into bands like Metallica and I was into AC/ DC. Then we kind of both, as time progressed, got into electronic music like Massive Attack.” As for their working relationship, Torsten explains, “I think we have an understanding after working together and being so close since we were young kids. We’re pretty much on the same page these days, we don’t fight anymore anyway – of course when we started off we did but we seem to have a
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Kat Cross & Talkative play the UCD Student Bar on Monday 22nd February.
Ciara Doyle and Grace Duffy meet upcoming Irish electronica act God Is An Astronaut
good understanding now.” Torsten also discusses the band’s live show, including their use of visual elements. The band have used this aesthetic part of their live set in the past to stand out from the pack. It is something they’ve had to tone down in recent works, but fans can nonetheless expect a spectacular arrangement from the band’s live set. “In Ireland I think it was always very hard to entertain audiences with just audio because it is a very pop-orientated market,” muses Torsten. “The visuals always helped to get otwo
names in the electronica industry like Tricky so excited? It is ambient and melodic, transcending genre with soft vocals sung in English (“My musical culture is more English than French,” explains Kat, though citing French poet Serge Gainsbourg as a major influence). Kat’s live act, currently incorporating an experimental visual show orchestrated by artist Natasha Kail, has contributed to their popularity in France. “For me it’s important, because it adds something more to the music – I’m in a wheelchair so I’m static on stage,” she explains. Kat’s second album Déjà Vu is to be released this month. Described as displaying “a lot more musical maturity” than the first album and being “more direct,” this brief Irish tour paves the way for the release. “It’s going to be a hectic week but we’re looking forward to it!” laughs Trevor.
the idea of the track across. We used them for many years and it definitely helped the music, but we ran into a kind of crossroads where we felt it was very hard to update the visuals. We’re not exactly a film company where we can just keep coming up with new footage every week! But we decided to go for a bigger sound experience for this year and we’re working on much bigger sound and the light show.” The band’s music is described as post-rock instrumental, though Torsten explains this was more a result of circumstances than a conscious decision. “I think it was more of a natural [decision] because we weren’t good at singing and we weren’t good at lyrics. When we were writing our first album, we decided we should just do what we’re good at and we fell into this whole postrock market. We didn’t know anything about it so we added something a little bit different to the marketplace. It’s a very dedicated scene.” Accidental rock stars perhaps, but intriguing ones – you can’t go wrong when your name comes from an iconic movie quote.
UNDERGROUND SOUND 25
The
Boys Next
Door Deirdre Flannery meets Alex Trimble of upcoming Northern boys Two Door Cinema Club
T
ipped as the ones to watch for 2010, the decade has certainly started with a bang for Bangor boys, Two Door Cinema Club. BBC and NME have been full of critical acclaim, while king of cool Kanye West has helped their cause by posting their video on his blog. With everyone wanting a piece of the trio – who have yet to release their debut album – expectations are soaring. Front man Alex Trimble tells otwo how the group are handling the pressure. “There is definitely potential for things to get on top of you, but we try to focus on what’s
happening now, and not to think too far ahead. In the past few months, a lot of attention has been put on us but that hasn’t affected what we’re doing on a day-to-day basis. If you think about it too much it will just get the better of you.” Alex is also quick to swat away suggestions that the band have been an overnight success, and credits their current foray into the limelight to the hard work the group have done to promote themselves. “We’ve been playing together since we were about fifteen, we’ve worked really hard and it’s just starting to pay off now. We
sorted everything out ourselves, we got as many phone numbers as we could, and just got our name out there to the people in the industry.” While other native music makers have never progressed past playing the UCD Ball, TDCC have become one of the first Irish bands for years to play the NME tour and are signing a record deal across the Atlantic. Far from emerging out of a vacuum, however, Alex insists that TDCC have merely lifted the lid on a music scene that has been bubbling away for quite some time in Northern Ireland, citing And So I Watch You
From Afar and General Fiasco as ones to watch. Alex also reveals a side project the group have developed: remixing other bands’ work. “It started out as a hobby, but my remixes started getting a bit of attention on the internet and from that I got asked to do some more. It’s a great thing to do on tour, it takes your mind off the travelling!” Produced by the man who brought us Bjork and Little Boots, Tourist History is sure to fly off the shelves. Two Door Cinema Club play the NME Tour alongside the Maccabees at the Academy on February 21st.
To Maccabee or Not To Maccabee How does a band react when its album is leaked online? Hugo White of the Maccabees tells Alison Lee how his outfit responded Guitarist Hugo White replies modestly when otwo asks about headlining the NME Tour. “The reason behind it, I don’t know! But it’s a nice thing to be asked to do.” Although commonly described as an indie rock band, the Maccabees have embarked on a different musical route lately, collaborating with rapper Roots Manuva to rerecord a hiphop version of their track ‘No Kind Words’. “We thought the track lended itself to hip hop,” says Hugo. “We had never really done anything like that before but you don’t always have to keep things in the same bracket.” The band kept to their usual guitar, bass and drums line-up, “making odd noises and finding weird sounds and using them as texture.” The resulting slick hip-hop track is a far cry from their usual brand of energetic alternative rock. The group came together in London, but spent their early years in the seaside town of Brighton. Although the resort has a reputation for being bohemian and artsy, the Maccabees moved there
for more pragmatic reasons. “Orlando [vocalist and guitarist] started university there and we wanted to make sure the band stayed together. It was a really cool place to be. It’s the sort of place where it doesn’t seem like anyone has a job. People are just hanging around all day every day!” It hasn’t always been plain sailing for the Maccabees however - their album Colour It In was leaked before its release. “Forty to fifty thousand copies were downloaded – it didn’t sell anywhere near as many copies as it would have,” says White, sounding genuinely agitated, and who could blame otwo
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him. “It’s a shame to think when you put so much effort into something, people can just take it.” But then he laughs, saying, “I feel bad moaning about it! Maybe people that wouldn’t have bought the record downloaded it, and then they come to a show… that’s how it works.” Despite this and a chance of drummer, the Maccabees have carried on to receive international recognition, and deservedly so. The Maccabees play the NME Tour alongside Two Door Cinema Club at the Academy on February 21st.
26
WEB
Y
up, it’s that time of year again – time for glitz and glamour, time for small statuettes named after the Grouch from Sesame Street, time for “I’d like to thank my mom, and my dad, and my agent, and everyone at the Academy who voted for me, and most of all I wanna thank God, blub blub boo hoo hoo”. That’s right: it’s Oscars season, and to celebrate, WebWatch offers the cinematic best of the interwebs. Of course, movie awards season isn’t for everyone; there are many of us who simply can’t connect with the silver screen in the way others might. Where some see grandeur, grace and beauty, the rest of us might only perceive mass delusion and pretence. What better way for
with GAVAN REILLY the latter to indulge themselves, therefore, in a selection of movie posters that reflect what really happens in some of the modern era’s more famous movies (http:// short.ie/uo91). Another bugbear that many of us have about Hollywood is its overbloated tendency, once it has found a franchise that works, to bludgeon a movie to commercial death by cooking up sequel after sequel. How many Matrix fans were delighted with how the trilogy ended? None, that’s how many. How many X Men devotees have been heartbroken by the sheer uselessness of the third part of the trilogy? Probably all of them (Especially me - Ed). And as for Sofia Coppola turning Godfather 3
to muck… well, let’s not go there. And if this is the kind of chat that makes you feel underprepared for Oscar season, then a quick gander at http://short.ie/uo92 will speedily bring you up to date with the best of the big screen’s big trilogies. One person unlikely to bother the Oscars this year is Christian Bale, whose stock around Tinseltown has fallen through the floor since his so-legendaryit’s-nowactually-boring rant on the set of Terminator Salvation (http://short. ie/balerant if you haven’t, http:// short.ie/baleremix if you have and want it set to a trippy dance beat). What most won’t realise about Bale – other than his curiously mongrel accent, being Welsh but American-
raised – is his bizarre likeness to Kermit the Frog. Check it out for yourself at http://short.ie/uo93. Which leaves just enough time for a quick motivational boost from Samuel L Jackson (http:// short.ie/uo94), a side-splitting collection of reworked finales from How It Should Have Ended (http://short.ie/ uo95), a career condensed in the Morgan Freeman Chain of Command (http://short. ie/uo96), and – coming soon to a poster sale near you – the really-rather-detailed tube map of the best 250 movies ever (http:// short.ie/uo97). As ever, if you have any decent links, share them with webwatch@ universityobserver.ie or with @otwo on Twitter.
Websight: Podiobooks.com
Are you a book snob? ...Oh. Well, best not pay attention to Emer Sugrue’s recommendations then
O
nce upon a time, the Audio Book was the preserve of the blind and illiterate. However, since the dawn of the MP3 player, when everyone became allergic to the sound of the outside world, they have been the perfect way to pretend you’ve read a book. Podiobooks is a site that promises free audio books, delivered chapter by chapter in podcast form. It’s perfectly legal; every book has full
permission from the author. But why would a published author allow their work to be offered free online? Er... they wouldn’t. This is the fatal flaw of Podiobooks. Things are only free on the internet when they can’t find anyone willing to pay for them. Even a fairly unsuccessful author would never give permission to distribute his books for free, and will always stick to his meagre earnings rather than the no earnings from Podiobooks. The result is an audio database of unpublished books. Why is this such a big problem? YouTube is entirely comprised otwo
of videos that could never get on telly, but there are some incredible comedic gems and hard hitting political commentaries lurking in there. Sadly, there’s a big difference between a three minute YouTube clip and a full length novel. You can’t tell in the first 30 seconds of a book whether it’s just about a musical cat again. The most popular and downloaded book on the site is Ravenwood by Nathan Lowell, a man so un-famous he doesn’t even have a Wikipedia page, unlike – for example – George Kobayashi, a Brazilian footballer who played for Japan in 1972 (God bless that ‘random page’ link on the left for proving a point whenever it’s needed). Lowell’s book might well be excellent – it could be the next Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, Dan Brown or an orgasmic combination of the three. But currently the pile of unread books beside my bed is towering so high that one false move will see it 16.02.10
topple and kill me in the night. I still haven’t read The Catcher in the Rye, Crime and Punishment or Catch 22 and that’s just the Cs. I’m never going to read random internet books by some guy. How am I going to boast about that at my next social function? But for what it is, Podiobooks is a nifty little site. If you enjoy audio books and are not a complete literary snob like me, it’s ideal. You can set up an RSS feed so that as soon as a chapter is released, it’s delivered straight into your earholes for your listening pleasure, or download a completed book all at once for an audio binge. The site has a lovely little community of book lovers and aspiring writers, all trying to help each other out, all with a single goal: literature. If you are a hopeless unpublishable author yourself then the site might get you some exposure, a fan base or even lead up to a book deal. It won’t though. Harsh.
MUSIC 27
OWL CITY
KE$HA
COBRA STARSHIP
Album: Ocean Eyes Rating: D+
Album: Animal Rating: C+
Album: Hot Mess Rating: B-
Madame Gaga has the market cornered at the moment for artistically acceptable weirdness, and it’s safe to say Ke$ha shan’t have her quaking in her kooky boots. An exercise in the power of the auto-tuner, this record is simplistic, groomed noise, sure to entertain those who like their dancing tunes straightforward and undemanding. Writing off the lyrics immediately, there’s little here by way of redeeming features for those who take their music a bit more seriously. Then again, those who do that probably don’t listen to someone who uses a dollar sign to spell her name. In a Nutshell: Brushing your teeth with a bottle of Jack seems a tad financially unfeasible. Grace Duffy
Cobra Starship have never been wildly original. Not ones to push artistic boundaries or make emotive statements through the depth and poetry of their lyrics, they have however always been damn good at making loud, brash, boisterous synth-pop. Hot Mess is no exception: synthpop and punk-rock are laid down over dance beats with plenty of sexy-girl backing vocals and an occasional smattering of rap – pretty much all the ingredients you need to soundtrack those
Adam Young, a.k.a. one-man-band Owl City, wants to get in your pants. At least, that is the only reason I can think of for why he whines about the stars so much. The album consists of track after track of Young crooning in an Elmoesque fashion over music reminiscent of demos on a Fisher Price keyboard. Owl City’s brand of twinkly, alternative electronica/synthpop could be described as innocent and fun-loving, but so could the Dora the Explorer soundtrack. However, with lyrics such as “I will disguise myself as a sleeping pill/And descend inside of you”, Young’s melodies are not just schmaltzy, but sleazy too. In A Nutshell: Make-out music for Bert and Ernie. Fionnuala Ryan
embarrassing moments when someone walks in on you dancing madly around your room in your pyjamas. The tracks ‘Good Girls Go Bad’ and ‘Hot Mess’ are especially punchy – but sadly most of the songs on the album are disappointingly similar. In a nutshell: Mostly filler and no thriller. Alison Lee
Reviews
NICK JONAS AND THE ADMINISTRATION Album: Who I Am Rating: CDespite the well-produced, professional sound of this record, it’s clear that Nick Jonas is a raw, young songwriter,
and unless you’re his age (17) or younger, it’s unlikely you’ll find anything on this album that you haven’t already heard before – or done better yourself. However that’s not to say it’s amateur – though occasionally cheesy and clichéd, it manages to
be confident and accomplished. The easygoing, agreeable tone won’t excite any Sonic Youth fans, but altogether it’s a surprisingly enjoyable debut that may even draw comparisons to John Mayer for its emphasis on soul rather than on, eep, Disney pop. Highlights include
opening track ‘Rose Garden’ and ‘In The End’. In A Nutshell: Does this mean the end of The Jonas Brothers? Perhaps Nick would be better off... Tom Mardy
Album of the Fortnight MARINA AND THE DIAMONDS Album: The Family Jewels Rating: A+ An album mixing shiny pop jingles and elegant fragility may sound like a recipe for a disaster, but luckily for Ms Marina, every song on this gem of an album is an absolute delight. Filled to the brim with refreshingly honest, thought-provoking lyrics, ‘Obsessions’ and the tongue-in-cheek ‘Girls’ are particular stand outs, the latter especially as Marina quips memorably “It’s easy to be sleazy when you’ve got a filthy mind.” This half-Welsh, half-Greek young lady
deserves her abundant praise, including justified comparisons to the great Kate Bush. After giving this record a whirl you’ll be left screaming a loud and affirmative response to the question posed by the opening track, ‘Are you satisfied?’ In A Nutshell: Prepare to be dazzled by this diamond. Claire O’Gorman otwo
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28
Aries (March 21 – April 20) Your girlfriend is going to leave you for another man. As if that wasn’t bad enough, it’s R.O.N.
ENCORE
The Arts Block Cat vomits more acrid truthballs in your face
Taurus (April 21 – May 21) Keep paying attention in those Introduction to Microeconomics lectures – there’s a decent job opportunity for someone with your level of expertise now that George has run out of patience with Enda. Gemini (May 22 – June 21) You know those smoking breaks you’ve been taking outside the James Joyce? There’s been a man watching you from the bushes for the past month. He’s nice, though. Cancer (June 22 – July 23) My, what a charming pair you have. Of nostrils, that is. Beautiful. In a disgusting kind of way. Yummy.
[
Sagittarius (November 23 – December 22) Sniffle.
Leo (July 24 – August 23) I concur that the Mayan numerological prediction of the end of the world coming in 2012 is accurate. How could they be wrong? After all, they did invent Mayan-naise…
Capricorn (December 23 – January 23) Remember that meteor that fell on Donegal a few weeks ago? They were aiming at you.
Virgo (August 24 – September 23) I’ve been using the arcane art of cloudreading to look into your future. All I’m able to foresee is sheep – lots of sheep. But you knew that.
Aquarius (Jan 21 – Feb 19)
Libra (September 24 – October 23) You should try the kipper diet. It’s worked wonders for me. I’m one svelte-looking feline.
In order to save yourself the hassle of cooking dinner, lurk in the vicinity of the O’Reilly Hall wearing a suit every evening, and when the moment is right, slip inside. Swanning around eating someone else’s canapés is so much more elegant than Pot Noodles in Belgrove.
Scorpio (October 24 – November 22) Your plan for spending the summer sleeping under stars, travelling from city to wonderful city is ideal preparation for the life of homelessness and vagrancy
Pisces (February 19 – March 20) I know your ATM PIN code: it’s 1234. The probability that’s right for at least one of you is 0.01 per cent. Seriously.
]
Gig of the Fortnight: Groove Armada 26.02.10 – Olympia Theatre – €33.60
Groove Armada is an electronic music duo comprising Andy Cato and Tom Findlay from England. Primarily based in London, they continue to produce and record music as well as hosting semi-regular club nights and an annual London festival under the Lovebox banner.
TUESDAY 16 February th
Francis Bacon: A Terrible Beauty - Hugh Lane Gallery – Free
The group has collaborated with a diverse array of artists including Neneh Cherry, DJ Gram’Ma Funk, Sunshine Anderson, Mutya Buena, Jeru The Damaja and Richie Havens. Their music has featured in many advertisement campaigns and films including Die Hard 2 and the Playstation
game Rayman 3. The band are sure to put on a good show; if anything it will be a flashback to the 90s, and a chance to listen to some classics including ‘I See You Baby’ and ‘Superstylin’’. Ciara Doyle
WEDNESDAY
THURSDAY
FRIDAY
SATURDAY
SUNDAY
MONDAY
17 February
18 February
19 February
20 February
21 February
22nd February
Lady Gaga - The O2 - 8pm €36/€44
Puccini’s Madam Butterfly National Concert Hall - 7:30pm €25/€48
Seasick Steve - Vicar Street 7:30pm - €28/€34
28th February
29th February
th
The Road - Cinemas Nationwide €8/€9
th
Fake Blood - The Twisted Pepper 11pm - €13.75
th
Meteor Ireland music awards - RDS Simmonscourt 7:30pm - €40
An Evening with Lyle Lovett and John Hiatt Olympia Theatre - 7:30pm - €49
Man in the Mirror: the Musical of Michael Jackson Olympia Theatre - 8pm - €28.15
23rd February
24th February
25th February
26th February
Air - Olympia Theatre - 19.30 €49.20
Holly Williams - Whelan’s - 8pm €19.75
Tinchy Stryder - Olympia Theatre 7pm - €28.00
Dramsoc Lunchtime: Untitled - Arts LG01 - 1pm €3/€4
Dramsoc present Shakespeare’s Richard III - Arts LG01 - 7pm €3/€4
David O’Doherty - Vicar St - 8:30pm - €25
God Is An Astronaut - the Academy - 7:30pm - €19.85
Enda Kenny visits UCD Young Fine Gael tonight
Yeasayer - the Academy 7:30pm - €16
Groove Armada Olympia Theatre 7:30pm - €33.60
otwo
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th
Hayseed Dixie Tripod - 8pm - €17 Shockwaves
st
NME awards shows - the Academy - 7pm - €25 27th February
JLS - the O2 6:30pm - €39.60 The Saw Doctors - Olympia Theatre - 7:15pm €31.80/€35 Six Nations: England v Ireland RTE 2 - 4pm
Hockey - the Academy - 7:30pm - €17.50 Spring Festival Gala Performance National Concert Hall - 8pm - €5
John Daly and Pogo Residents - Twisted Pepper 11pm - €11.95
Newton Faulkner Olympia Theatre - 19.30 - €25