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Coming out of Chokey

Last night was my last official night in charge of the Varsity, so now I’m free of those particular obligations, frustrations and quirks. My replacement is a thoroughly nice bloke, and it’s been quite fun showing him the ropes – not least because it’s reminded me of all the bits and pieces I no longer need feel responsible for. My workmates wrote me a cute little card (best line: “Even though you’re going to hell you were a good person.”) and last night’s event was fun.

A group of undergrads rented the place to premiere a movie they’d made. A post-rock tinged band called Buildings Breeding started the night (they had a song in the movie) and I was impressed with what I heard. They list the Beatles, Velvet Underground, Beach Boys, T-Rex, Bowie, The Sundays, The Shins, The Cardigans, Belle and Sebastian, Elliott Smith, Silversun Pickups, Modest Mouse and Band Of Horses as influences, and most of those show in their music. They’re playing at SXSW in Austin soon, and I’ll be interested to see what happens to them after that.

I didn’t get to see the movie, titled Repeat, but from what I saw it looked above average. I’ll be checking out the DVD soon. Maybe I’ll be able to rope in a few of the folks who made the movie to crew for me on future video projects.

Now my time in cinema exhibition has finished I’ll be teaching video cameras and digital editing at Davis Media Access, which is another big reason to be cheerful. I may have another iron in the fire besides that, but I’m going to remain coy about it for now, just in case.

Too easy

Eyelashjam and pgd took this test. I was slightly off with “altruist.”


Your Vocabulary Score: A


Congratulations on your multifarious vocabulary!
You must be quite an erudite person.

Update: If you own a Mac I’ve just discovered a perfect way to cheat at this quiz. Put the mouse pointer over the word in question. Now press ⌃ ⌘ D or [ctrl]+[cmd]+D, depending on how you prefer to notate keyboard shortcuts. Don’t you feel like a dirty cheat now? Apologies to non Mac users.

Ian Richardson, RIP.

I’m sad to hear of the passing of Ian Richardson, an actor with one of the greatest voices I’ve ever heard, and coldly hypnotic eyes. I never saw him on the stage, but his performances for film and TV were always mesmerising. Obviously he’ll be well remembered for House of Cards and To Play the King but for me his roles in movies such as Brazil and Dark City are just as important.

Playing Catch-up

Looks like I’ve not posted in a while. Here’s a summary of the last sixty-six days.

Those who saw me and possibly the missus during December will know how much we tired ourselves out having fun and visiting what feels like everyone (but actually wasn’t) during the festive season.

Discovering that I’m a little part of history in a photo in the Globe museum (along with Eyelashjam and a small bunch of others) was a happy experience. Somewhere within me a small organ swelled with pride. Seeing M & K happily set-up in Brighton made both of us happy, and reunions back in Worcestershire and Buckinghamshire were as sweet as always.

We’ve been back in Davis for a month now, and I suppose we’re back in the swing of things. The tiny PS2 Rev Rehash gave us as a Saturnalia present has seen a lot of use, and led me to discover a very 21st century relationship dilemma which I’ll cover in a later post.

I taught my Cornish pastie and Chicken Tikka Masala course at the Co-op for a second time. No-one died. Even better, I’m working with my friend Ellis on a video project which will stay under wraps until it’s ready to be seen. I’m still procrastinating over writing the script for the short movie I hope to make with Jeff. It’ll happen soon; I feel it bubbling up through the mire of my consciousness. I’ve also had an idea for a non-narrative piece which explores reproduction and degeneration.

So far this year I’ve caught the following movies at the cinema:

  • The Queen
    Well-observed performances from Helen Mirren and Michael Sheen, and subtly critical of both the traditional British establishment and Blair’s courting of populist sentiment.
  • Pan’s Labyrinth
    Visually stunning, and a top performance from Sergi Lopez as a sadistic torturing fascist.
  • The Curse of the Golden Flower
    A grand statement about China’s current regime disguised as a lavish period romp; largely disappointing when you compare it to House of Flying Daggers and Hero, but look at all those extras – and all those jiggling busts!
  • Children of Men
    Felt like a hard punch in the guts; at one point I almost threw up with anxiety. It’s very impressive and I was slightly hungover.
  • Volver
    Quirky and darkly sweet, but not as kinky as I’d hoped. Everyone’s talking about Penelope Cruz and she is good, but Carmen Maura’s better.

I’m going to make an effort to catch Notes on a Scandal, Little Children and a nice little American social realist pic (don’t see many of those) called Flannel Pajamas. The Last King of Scotland starts at my work in the next couple of weeks, which makes it easy for me to see and I’m hoping we can get Paul Verhoeven’s Zwartboek (Black Book) mostly because it’s guaranteed to be up-front steamy and sexual, and there has been precious little sex on American cinema screens since the end of the Clinton era.

February 18th is the first day of the Chinese year of the Boar. Mmm. Pork. I’m looking forward to it already.

Well, duh.

There’s a story linked to by boingboing.net about why a certain TV programme called Lost doesn’t work. I suppose it’s not really surprising that someone who gets paid to write for New York magazine took over two series worth of programming to notice what I did within two episodes. What is surprising is that so many viewers are still tuning in to have their plonkers pulled. It beggars every convention of standard dramatic plotting. It’s like a commercial Waiting for Godot without the existentialism, humour, artistic value and sense of purpose.

Christ!

Yesterday was my mainstream movie day. I caught The Departed and The Prestige at my local evil five-plex. Both good movies, and The Prestige was particularly noteworthy for being a fantastic exploration of artifice and deception, a real puzzle of a movie where the structure of the movie is the same as the structure of its subject – magic tricks.

Of course, we were bombarded with trailers. When I’m putting together the programme at the Varsity I normally attach a maximum of four trailers. Any more than that and I feel like I’m taxing the audience’s patience. At the evil five-plex you get twenty minutes of advertising for products and TV programmes and then six or seven (I lost count) trailers for coming features. Each one is about two and a half minutes. Towards the end of the reel or trailers, just as Jeff and I were asking each other if we were ever going to see the movie, an extended version of this played. "One family. One journey. One child who would change the world… forever." It looks like it will play well to the churches by the interstate in most of middle America. It looks fairly well shot in a Milk Tray advert style.

However, just in case Americans are in danger of forgetting what Christmas is all about, here’s another movie to remind them, Christmas at Maxwell’s, "powerful story of Christian happenings" complete with a small boy with wiggly eyebrows and crackling dialogue.

Look at this neat album! All of the pages are blank.

And here’s a movie about the people who are most likely to watch the previous two movies, Jesus Camp. I feel I should preface this trailer with a warning. It’s almost enough to put you off your dinner.

Eagleton on Dawkins

In his review of The God Delusion in the London Review of Books, Terry Eagleton plays Devil’s Advocate for theology in order to make some pointed criticisms of Dawkins’ rhetoric. As a firm atheist, I’m looking forward to reading The God Delusion over the festive season, and as someone who respects Terry Eagleton’s scholarly work, I was equally interested to read what he has to add to the debate.

The Trouble with Comments

Sometimes I wish there weren’t so many options for ordinary folk to leave their responses on serious articles on newspaper websites. For example, I saw this today at the bottom of a brief, lightweight article on neuroscience in the Guardian:

Didn’t dinosaurs have two brains at one time? Where did the other brain go to? Didn’t human beings evolve from dinosaurs? Do human beings still have that second brain somewhere inside of them? If they do, what is it’s purpose?

Yes, indeed, we evolved from reptiles. That second brain is actually called the appdendix, and it controls the constriction and relaxation of the anal sphincter. Sadly, on some people the primary brain does not function, and the appendix has to take over.

80’s Flashback

Morrissey

For no particular reason, other than I’m in the mood and some of this stuff is classic, here are a bunch of songs (with videos) from early eighties Britain which prove the first seven years of my life weren’t all bad make-up, pixie boots and synthesizers (not that there’s anything wrong with a good Moog or an ARP).

1: The Clash – Rock the Casbah
To break everyone in nice and gently and to set the tone.

Death Threat

Last night at the Varsity we showed Michael Winterbottom’s movie, The Road to Guantánamo, in conjunction with a local human rights group. The day before the screening one of the members of the group received a threatening phone call. Here is a transcript of that call:

Yeah, you commie socialist pig. Let me tell you something. I’m going to tell you something right now. You ought to take it right to the end. You’re putting up with these socialist people in Guantanamo Bay. I’m going to kill every one of you.

We informed the police and they sent a couple of officers to oversee the event. Needless to say, no-one died as a result of this rambling incoherence. I wonder what that loser did last night instead of massacring a bunch of Amnesty International members? Maybe he spent the night drinking everclear and pulling wings off flies. Pinko flies, darnit.

Shh…

Silent Library has to be the greatest exploitative TV game show of all time. Any show with a round entitled "Old Man Bites Tenderly" ranks right up with Vic and Bob in the pantheon of TV surrealism. Click and watch!

The Electric Lotus

Tesla Roadster

I was excited to read an article about the Tesla Roadster today. It’s essentially a Lotus Elise, but with subtle differences – the most significant being that it runs on electricity, not petrol. I think this is important because electric cars will not appeal to full-on car enthusiasts and petrolheads until there is an electric car they think is sexy; an object of desire like a Ferrari or a Lamborghini, or slightly further down the scale, a Lotus.

There is a significant chunk of the population who will not take electric cars seriously until Jeremy Clarkson drives one and has his face rearranged due to G-forces, and I’m hoping this car is it. Obviously, I’m still in favour of reducing the number of cars on the road and the pollution they produce, but there will still be people who do not want to give up their own personal motor, either for practical or frivolous reasons, so the sooner they can and, most importantly, want to turn electric the better.

I initially thought that electric cars simply shifted the production of pollution to one centralised place – the power station – and that the same amount of pollution was created. However, I recently read that it is more efficient to have one large engine releasing the energy from whichever source you’re using and distributing it to where it’s needed than to have thousands or millions of smaller car engines making the conversion at the point of use. This means electric cars benefit the environment through being more efficient even before renewable energy reaches the point at which it can service the majority of our electrical needs.

I’m also really excited because I do enjoy driving, I enjoy moving fast, and to be able to do so with a clear conscience would be a marvellous thing. And it’s named after a cool crazy scientist, and it’s essentially a Lotus, and you can get it in racing green!

Links:
Wikipedia entry on the Tesla Roadster.
Tesla Motors official site.

An Indian Summer

I was going to call this my Summer compilation, but I’m not sure how much summer is left in the UK, where I guess most listeners will be, so here’s the hypothesis: it’s early September, and an Indian Summer has arrived. A warm afternoon mellows into a balmy evening. This is what plays on your stereo as you enjoy a few drinks in the garden. Of course, these tunes work just as well for an ordinary summer day. It starts with some storming afro-beat, sashays into some latin grooves, takes an electronic turn and turns folksy at the end.

Click here to listen to my Indian summer compilation (61.5mb quicktime file). I’ll remove it after two weeks, just in case someone takes issue with me putting tunes here.

The link has been removed.

Booked

I just booked a ticket to fly home for the festive season. I arrive in the UK on the 5th December, and leave again on the 3rd January. Yay!

Hurrah!

Victory for the Comic Muse album cover

There are few things that make me dance around the living room singing when I’m not already drunk, but I confess the arrival of a new Divine Comedy album is one of those things. I realise I’m a little behind, and that everyone back home is about three single releases ahead of me, but I’m surrounded by the uninitiated here in California. The album’s not even released in the USA, so last week I ordered it from a company based in Hong Kong.

So far it sounds like Neil Hannon’s most consistent piece since 1999’s Fin de Siècle but I’m only six songs in. It definitely starts strongly; I’m going to have to keep myself from singing "I don’t want to die a virgin!" in front of my staff at the cinema.

So far my favourite lyric is from Diva Lady

She’s got a famous boyfriend
They go out in style
She makes him look hetero
He helps her profile

Time Trumpet

Mouse climbs out of Anna Ford's throat

The forthcoming Armando Iannucci series, Time Trumpet, looks like my kind of programme. It appears to be a nostalgia show set in 2031, in which celebrities reminisce about events like the shooting of Tony Blair, a beautiful fireworks display over Baghdad, the day Dale Winton exploded, and a home shopping channel that sells nothing but bacon.

A bit like the incontinent elephant on Blue Peter, but even more so. Golden memories!

Book Challenge

From Dave’s blog (and all sorts of others before it):

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your blog along with these instructions.
5.Don’t you dare dig for that “cool” or “intellectual” book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.
6. Tag three people.

I’m sitting in front of a bookcase, so about 250 are within arm’s reach. Reaching with my right arm, the closest to the tip of my middle finger is:

I enquire the way to the inn; but no one replied. I then moved forward and a murmuring sound arose from the crowd as they followed and surrounded me; when an ill-looking man approaching, tapped me on the shoulder, and said, "Come, Sir, you must follow me to Mr. Kirwin’s, to give an account of yourself."
"Who is Mr. Kirwin? Why am I to give an account of myself? Is this not a free country?"

Frankentsein, Mary Shelley

If you don’t like that you can have:

One of the more memorable examples of such verbiage is Ansel Adams’s description of the camera as an "instrument of love and revelation" Adams also urges that we stop saying that we "take" a picture and always say we "make" one. Stieglitz’s name for the cloud studies he did in the late 1920s – "Equivalents," that is, statements of his inner feelings – is another, soberer instance of the persistent effort of photographers to feature the benevolent character of picture-taking and discount its predatory implications. What talented photographers do cannot of course be characterized as simply predatory or as simply, and essentially, benevolent.

On Photography, Susan Sontag

I’m not going to tag anyone, but if this seems like a fun thing to do, please follow suit.

La Science des Rêves

Gael Garcia Bernal as Stephane inspects his woollen horse in The Science of Sleep

It looks like we’re seriously pursuing The Science of Sleep to screen at the Varsity in late August. I love Michel Gondry’s work, so I’m really excited. Check out the trailer here.

It looks as if both a French and English-language version were shot, which is unusual, but not unprecedented. I seem to remember a lame Gerard Depardieu comedy Mon Père ce Héros / My Father the Hero being shot in two different languages. Or maybe it was dubbed and my memory is inventing things.

Inside

Once in a while I discover a song which sounds like the inside of my head. The latest of these discoveries is from the Talking Heads 1979 album Fear of Music. Mind sounds much like a superior version of one of the tunes that my head creates but never expresses.