Category: Entertainment

The Oscars – Playing it safe?

At the end of another ‘successful’ Oscar evening, the awards season came to a glorious close (not including the much maligned Razzie Awards) and as LAX was swamped with photographers trying to get a coveted snap of the A-listers as they made their way home after a gruelling couple of months, Hollywood was back to business as normal.

It was great to see Billy Crystal return to host his ninth Academy Awards ceremony, particularly after the inexplicably poor showing of Anne Hathaway and James Franco last year, and though it was safe and predictable, it was good fun, everyone seemed to be in spirited moods, and there was nothing particularly controversial to note; all in all, the ceremony seemed to run just as expected – and perhaps there lies the problem.

Personally, I can’t begrudge The Artist and Hugo walking away with 5 awards apiece, as I believe they were fully deserving for the most part. Yes, both had received an insane amount of hype in the build up, and had collected the prestigious gongs at earlier awards shows such as the Golden Globes and the BAFTAs, and no one really expected any other winners in the Best Picture category.  Both films depicted a certain nostalgia for a golden era of Hollywood, and a severe love for the movie world. One thing these ceremonies do well is how they drill us all with the fact that we’re here to celebrate film, and that film is a wonderfully magic invention which we would be nowhere without. That’s great an’ all, but then the problem starts to arise; how much longer can they get away with that?

We understand that film is magical, and that it’s a huge part of many peoples’ lives, but they won’t improve their dwindling ratings by showcasing this year in year out, and this was clearly in the back of their minds, prompting a rather lame Cirque Du Soleil skit halfway through Sunday’s main event. I’m sure it’s beautiful and stunning to watch in its entirety, but I didn’t see its strained relevancy to the movies – it seems Hollywood may have run out of ideas.

The winners themselves were nothing out of the ordinary; I myself predicted 9/10 of the ‘bigger’ awards – my 100% record tarnished by the one pleasant surprise of the evening landing in the form of Woody Allen’s Best Original Screenplay triumph for Midnight In Paris – and even Meryl Streep, winning her 3rd Oscar, seemed to recognise this apparent ignorance of newer quality in her acceptance speech by announcing that she could hear the cacophony of sighs as she picked up the gong again. I know she’s gone a ridiculously long time without winning an Oscar, but I do believe these awards should be used to promote the rising talent in Hollywood, rather than ‘making up’ for lost years (no disrespect to Streep, a wonderful actress).

Then we come to the movies actually nominated for the bigger awards. This ‘phenomenon’ has become known as ‘Oscar-bait’ over the years and can usually indicate what movies are ripe for nomination. I myself don’t usually get that invested in this type of speech, as I feel the last 10 years have featured a vast range of movie winners from The Hurt Locker to The King’s Speech and No Country For Old Men to The Lord Of The Ring trilogy. However this year seemed to be plugging away at that stereotype, and truly baffled with some of its picks (Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, War Horse) whilst films like hyper-stylized and violent Drive were snubbed completely for safer options.

Montage after montage, forced celebrity skit after skit, teary-eyed monologue after monologue, the 84th Academy Awards was no stretch of the imagination. Hollywood seemed to have given up trying to put on a show which really captivated their audience, but stuck with the old and safe route. The ‘if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it’ rule may be applied in this situation, but what good is it really doing for Hollywood’s reputation? Is the continued celebration of films that depict a past era really doing anything but reminding us that the best days are behind it? The continued stance against Sci-Fi and Action films could possibly be tested next year following the release of high-profile films such as Chris Nolan’s The Dark Knight Rises, Joss Whedon’s The Avengers, and Ridley Scott’s Prometheus. When you think of each title, you will immediately dismiss its Oscar chances, but ask yourself ‘Why?’ Why couldn’t The Avengers win a Best Picture award, or at least get a nod? Joss Whedon is a talented director, who has a knack for writing good, intriguing stories and characters, so will the film be any better or worse than The Artist?

It doesn’t matter now, of course, and we shall see in due time what happens; however, I believe the Academy needs to start considering a larger range of movies to keep the current trends in cinema popular. The population of the Academy voters is primarily made up of elderly white men, which has led to a few accusations of prejudice being thrown around. The snub of The Social Network and David Fincher last year may highlight this as well; The King’s Speech was a safe option, and I don’t think anyone was too surprised to see it go home as the winner, whilst the slightly superior and modern tale of Facebook, which resonated deeply in today’s society, was overlooked.

Whilst the future of cinema remains as exciting as ever and the Academy Award can still promote a sense of heightened excitement in film buffs worldwide, it is, however, becoming more and more alienating to those who wish to be entertained. People don’t want to see one film, or one actor, miles ahead of the rest. They want to know that this, the most prestigious film award in the world, can go to any one of the five nominees, and that it’ll be as big a shock to them as it will be to those in the theatre. Where it will begin, I don’t know, but for now some serious thinking will be going on behind those golden doors, and hopefully next year, we’ll all be in for some rather delayed entertainment and surprise.

Bon Scott – Master Lyricist

The 19th of this month saw the 32nd anniversary of the death of Bon Scott, the frontman who helped turn a little guitar band called AC/DC from Sydney, Australia into one of the greatest rock outfits in the world. Now, I’m not about to write a biography of the man’s tragically short life – there are plenty of those already in existence – but I am going to explain briefly why to me, he was (and remains) possibly the greatest rock lyricist ever.

I was fourteen years old when, like many teenagers, I came upon the notion that my parents weren’t cool and so I began trying hard not to become like them. One of the ways I attempted to achieve this was via music and this was very easy because I’d been brought up on a strict diet of classical. “Top Of The Pops” only ever appeared on our TV by accident and it was off again as quickly as my father could get out of his chair and push another button. To him, anything louder than Sinatra was an abomination and so to me, rock music seemed like the perfect antidote.

Therefore, with a few quid in my pocket and the name of a band (whom I knew virtually nothing about) in my head, I went to my local record store and bought a cassette tape of AC/DC. I distinctly remember it was “If You Want Blood” because I thought the album cover was amazing. Feeling like a total rebel, I smuggled it home and later in the privacy of my bedroom I pressed play on my puny little mono tape recorder and listened as this amazing new sound thrilled me. And so began a passion with a genre that defined my youth.

With the passing of years, musical taste tends to change or perhaps “develop” would be a better word and while my music library still holds a large percentage of rock, I’m quite happy to admit that it now includes many other genres. However, if I were to ever find myself in a “Desert Island Disc” sort of scenario, I can honestly say without a moment’s hesitation that Bon Scott would feature somewhere in that essential collection.

Certain tracks that I’ve been listening to since those teenage years still make me want to stop whatever it is I’m doing so that I can concentrate on Bon’s clever and often hilarious lyrics. Yes, there was no question the man had a sense of humour. “Big Balls” and “Up To My Neck In You” are two examples showcasing that. I defy anyone to listen to the former and not laugh out loud! And there was also no question what occupied his dirty little rock n roll mind a lot of the time. Just listen to “Squealer” or “Love At First Feel” and you’ll be left in no doubt. He truly was a master of the double entendre – possibly matched only by Steven Tyler of Aerosmith. But Bon created characters too that could scare or amuse us or come alive in our minds as someone we’re perhaps familiar with or can relate to. “Prowler”, “Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap” and “Sin City” are three that do just that. I could go on giving examples but you’d be much better off playing the music and experiencing his talent rather than reading about it. The fact is, Bon didn’t just have talent, he had charisma – bags of the stuff – and it was evident in his songwriting and his performance. How many rock stars can we truly say that about?

I’m still a big fan of AC/DC and I think Brian Johnson, who picked up the gauntlet (or should that be microphone) in 1980 following Bon’s death, has done a tremendous job of leading the band into the new century. Their last album “Black Ice” was to my mind one of their best since the early 80s. I love the fact that all the band’s CDs are still available in music stores; it’s clear their music continues to find new audiences. And it’s obvious why – as a rock band, they are one of the originals and have very few peers and as a singer/songwriter, Bon Scott was a rock n roll genius. I’ve no doubt whatsoever that each new generation of rock fan will discover him and come to realise the wonderful ability he had and for me that proves one thing; death is not the end.

Music Scene in New Orleans Delivers In More Ways Than One

Music lovers of the world take note: If you have never been to New Orleans for a visit, you would be doing yourself a great service by putting a visit to this great music town on your priority list of things to do in your lifetime. I guarantee that you won’t be disappointed. You might even find that you like it so much that you end up moving here like I did with my guitar player. As a matter of fact, I simply cannot think of a place that exists anywhere within the lower continental 48 states of the U.S. that comes anywhere as close to being as cool as what I’ve experienced here.

There is something to satisfy every musical taste bud: blues, jazz, acid jazz, trip hop, rock, alternative, punk, Goth, Cajun, old New Orleans R&B, metal, trance and dub step, bluegrass, an even Celtic music on occasion. Did I mention that on any night of the week, one can sample all or most of these varying flavors that New Orleans musicians have to offer, all while not breaking your bank account? There are many places that do not charge a cover, so if you’re on a budget, this is the place to be; just be sure to tip the musicians…and your bartender. Another advantage is that all or most of the venues are either within walking distance or a cheap cab fare away.

There are so many music venues here per capita here that I have not yet had the chance to patronize them all , but here are a few of my favorites thus far:

Café Negril: Located on the famous Frenchmen St in the Faubourg Marigny neighborhood, on any given night you can catch some of the finest talent around kicking out the jams with roots, reggae, jazz, blues, and celtic music. This is a popular place with locals and tourists alike.

The Apple Barrel: A local haunt once frequented by the late locally and internationally renowned bluesman Coco Robicheaux. The Apple Barrel is conveniently located on Frenchmen St, directly across the street from Café Negril. This is a very cozy and down to earth venue where you can catch some of the best local musicians playing roots, blues and country blues, Cajun, jazz, and old New Orleans R&B.

The Dragon’s Den: Just around the corner from Frenchmen St on Esplanade, it is also within a short and convenient walk from the clubs on Frenchmen. The crowd here tends to be local and hip. On any night of the week you may catch an act playing rock, alternative, metal, jazz, trance, Goth, or dub step.

Checkpoint Charlie’s: Also located kitty corner from Frenchmen on the corner of Decatur and Esplanade, you can find a blend of locals and tourists hanging out, either to do laundry in the back or to check out local and touring acts who play some fierce rock-n-roll, punk, and delta blues.

One Eyed Jack’s: Located in the French Quarter on Toulouse St, this club has the class of an old Vaudeville haunt that simultaneously caters to 21st century hipsters and the ghosts of the past, all whilst managing to maintain an aura that is refreshingly unpretentious. You can catch many touring and local acts here that will quench the desires of many a musical palate, with the sounds of funk, rock, alternative, metal, gothic, punk, burlesque, 1920s bebop and everything in-between.

Hi-Ho Lounge: Located in the St. Claude neighborhood, the Hi-Ho Lounge is a short cab fare away from both Frenchmen and the French Quarter. Nestled on the up and coming St. Claude St., this club showcases some of the best local and touring acts that play rock, jazz, bluegrass, alternative/indie, and old New Orleans R&B. If you want to see where many of the locals go, then make it a point to put this club on your list of places to visit. An added bonus of visiting this club is that should you get hungry, there is a separate kitchen in the back offering up tasty Vietnamese food for a fair price.

Siberia: Located a few doors down from the Hi-Ho Lounge, this is the place that caters to your rebel within. On any and most nights, you can check out local and touring punk, metal, Goth, and rock acts that will not disappoint. There is also a kitchen in the back serving up tasty sandwiches, should you happen to get the munchies.

Always Lounge: Located directly across the street from Siberia and the Hi-Ho is yet another local favorite nighttime haunt with a very cool New Orleans vibe. The crowd here tends to be eclectic, encompassing tastes that span the range of the musical spectrum of rock, Cajun, blues, Old New Orleans R&B, jazz, alt/indie, and 20s vaudeville.

Bj’s Lounge: Located in the Upper 9th Ward/Bywater neighborhood, this is a place with a true, local feel. Stop by on a Monday night, ring the doorbell, and check out King James and the Special Men masterfully play some of the best New Orleans soul that you’ll ever hear.

A walk down the very charming Royal St. in the French Quarter on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon always brings with it pleasant surprises as one is often treated to a myriad of talented street performers who set up and play right on the street for tips. It won’t take long for you to come to the realization that every neighborhood in NOLA has its own charm and plenty of music venues. As a relative newcomer to the scene here, I have yet to experience many of the clubs that pump out music nightly in Uptown and Mid City, but I plan to soon.

The annual Jazz Fest is also an occasion that’s not to be missed. It is a two week extravaganza that features some of the best performers in the world from every conceivable genre: jazz, blues, gospel, electric blues, country blues, rock/alternative/indie, Cajun, zydeco, and everything in-between.
Music is literally everywhere here; it is so entrenched in the culture here that I have become convinced that there must be something in the water that makes it so. If you’re a music lover and you decide to visit New Orleans, you won’t be disappointed; you might even decide to move here.

Film Review – “The Treasure of the Sierra Madre”

Collaborating for a third time were star Humphrey Bogart and writer/director John Huston in this 1948 classic. They would go on to make a total of six movies together including The Maltese Falcon and The African Queen and all I can say to that is – like eggs and bacon, some partnerships were just meant to be!

Some films thrill us with their stunning visuals and intricate plots that weave and wend through a patchwork of location changes and character allegiances; some make us laugh from witty dialogue or weep from a deep emotional connection but then others simply lay bare, in all its divine glory or unholy horror, the spirit of humankind.

The Treasure of the Sierra Madre has one of the seven deadly sins at its core but in spite of its heavy theme, it remains surprisingly entertaining. That’s what a great writer can achieve and Huston was rewarded with the Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay for his troubles. He also took home the Award for Best Director and just to keep things in the family, his father (Walter Huston) took home the statue for Best Supporting Actor.

In 1920s Mexico, American drifter Fred C. Dobbs (Humphrey Bogart) and fellow vagrant Bob Curtin (Tim Holt), find themselves begging for food in the small town of Tampico because they’ve been cheated out of several days wages by an unscrupulous contractor. In a frowsy boarding house, they meet grizzly old-timer Howard (Walter Huston) who captivates them with his tales of gold prospecting and it doesn’t take long before their heads are filled with dreams of striking it rich in the Sierra Madre mountains. After Dobbs and Curtin allow their fists to persuade the swindling contractor to cough up what he owes them, they purchase prospecting equipment and together with Howard, they head up into the hills in search of their fortune.

Howard, the old-timer has been on this fortune trail before and is all too aware of the perils they face. He explains about the bandits and the inhospitable elements and he also warns about the danger they present to each other. “I know what gold does to men’s souls”, he says. It’s clear from the outset, when Dobbs promises that everything will work out dandy and that any gold they find will be split three ways, that Howard is the least convinced of the three.

With Howard’s knowledge of the mountain together with his mining know-how, they begin to extract their gold. The work is filthy and hard but their labours continue and the gold piles up. Greed soon comes into camp though and Dobbs becomes increasingly distrustful of his partners to the point of being terrified they will kill him. Sleep becomes something all three attempt to avoid in order to stay alive but then a fourth American, James Cody appears on the scene thereby setting up a moral debate regarding the sharing out of the gold. Paranoia increases, bandits turn up, guns are fired and the ending is a bitter irony and a lesson to be learned.

This film is a far cry from the cool sophistication of Bogart’s earlier Huston-directed efforts and in this he’s about as charming as a scorpion in your lunchbox but all in all, it’s a cracker of a movie. Walter Huston takes the honour of finest performance though and indeed, it was rumoured that he was asked by the director (his son) to tone down his performance so as not to steal the movie from Bogart. It is noted for being one of the first Hollywood films to be shot almost entirely on location outside the U.S and is quite faithful to B. Traven’s novel of the same name on which it is based.

If you haven’t seen it yet, lucky you. Go rent it or better still, buy it because you’ll want to see it more than once for sure. It’s a title that appears in numerous top 100 polls, it includes an iconic quote about “stinking badges” and best of all, it’s devoid of any visual flab so common in mediocre moviemaking. It’s bare boned, gritty and powerful; cinematic storytelling at its very best.

Film Review: “Carnage”

Carnage is perhaps a hyperbole. The implied connotations may give you different expectations of this movie, and not all of them will be met. It’s remarkable how so much damage can be inflicted through mere words, and this film explores that, accompanied by a quartet of bitingly sharp performances from its leads.

Though the movie takes place in a Manhattan apartment, it was in actual fact filmed in Paris, due to Roman Polanski’s inability to step foot in the USA. This has never prevented him from working with the best actors available, and making some of the greatest films of the last 50 years. Though his magnum opus remains Chinatown, made almost 40 years ago now, his work is as relevant today as it was back then.

 

The movie is a screen adaptation of Yasmina Reza’s play ‘God Of Carnage’. This is evident in the way Polanksi has bizarrely made use of space and time. With the exception of the opening and closing credits, the movie doesn’t stray from the apartment of Mr and Mrs Longstreet (John C. Reilly and Jodie Foster). Reluctantly joining them is upper-class couple, Mr and Mrs Cowan (Christophe Waltz and Kate Winslet). The reason for their occupying the same space is their children. Zachary, belonging to the Cowan’s, has smashed Ethan, belong to the Longstreet’s, around the face with a stick. The conversation flows politely in its early exchanges, a brief moment of silence here and there, or whenever Alan (Waltz) is ‘forced’ to remove himself and answer his incessantly-ringing cellphone.

 

The power here is how it develops. We open with a shady state of equilibrium; a state that has to smoothly cross into the realms of the eponymous carnage. This is orchestrated with masterful work from Polanski, giving his actors just that little bit extra to work with, deftly timing each event that takes place to occur precisely when it needs to. The running time of the movie is just over an hour, as is the on-screen narrative.

 

It’s a character study of considerable depth; at first, each of them displays signs of accustomed social conventions. Nancy (Winslet) feels inclined to enquire about the apartment she finds herself in, as well as the different displays of culture which Penelope (Foster) has laid out, primarily on her luxurious coffee table. Alan and Michael (C. Reilly) discuss their jobs, picking apart each other’s livelihood through polite, yet slightly strained dialogue, which is to lead someplace darker.

 

Bit by bit, shot by shot, Polanksi manipulates happenings to his will, sparks begin to fly, and tempers begin to flare. Put together by their children’s childish behaviour, the four parents exhibit their own infantine dispositions by hurling verbal put-downs at each other. They belittle, they snarl, they vomit, they drink, they scoff, they drink more, they sob, they turn on their own spouses, they drink even more, they smoke. It doesn’t ever reach what I would call ‘carnage’, but it certainly inhabits a space nearby.

 

As you’d expect, the script is solid enough to keep an audience satisfied for 70minutes, but the four actors, Winslet and Foster in particular, exude unmatched ability in being able to distort themselves over and over again, finely treading, but never crossing, the line between radical depiction and parody. They are all cynics, expecting next to nothing from their opponents; they won’t budge on their opinions, and a considerable amount of care is put into the way they act within the different circumstances Polanksi throws their way. It’s a refreshingly honest piece of work, but not funny enough to be considered comedy. It’s a movie worth watching, but don’t expect to be enlightened, amused, or entertained. This is a movie about character; it’s peculiar and comes off with an odd taste, but it’s impeccably acted, and masterfully directed.

Film Review: “The Woman In Black”

The Woman In Black has received a lot of attention since its announcement, partly due to it being a well-known story from its book and stage production, and partly because all eyes are on Daniel Radcliffe.

The film is a big departure from Daniel, who will forever be known as Harry Potter, no matter how illustrious his career goes on to be. Focusing on the actor for a moment, there can be little criticism of his performance. From his appearance to his character portrayal, he performed wonderfully. The drawback to casting Radcliffe however was not in his performance, but that the public has known him for such a long time as a young person, thanks to Harry Potter, that it’s hard to shake that from your mind when watching The Woman In Black. Which means that it’s difficult to disengage the actor from his previous roles to view him objectively in this film. Put another way, we feel like we know Radcliffe, and that offers a sense of comfort when watching him perform in a horror film – and it removes quite a large element of the suspense from the film because we’re just too comfortable with the lead actor as someone not to feel scared by. And because the film is almost voyeuristic in that you feel as though you are accompanying Radcliffe on his journey, there is a peculiar sense of protection throughout.

All that could be overlooked and indeed overcome if the writing was stellar, but sadly it wasn’t. With a 12A certificate The Woman In Black was never going to be a terrifying, white-knuckle ride that kept viewers on the edge of their seat. It gets off to a slow start, where we learn of Radcliffe’s sad personal problems before he embarks on a journey from London to England’s North East as part of his job as a lawyer. His task is to get the paperwork of a deceased widow in order so her house can be sold off. Once we see the house, the film starts to rely too heavily on tired horror cliches to shock an audience that is desensitised to such attempts. Scares and moments of suspense were thin on the ground, but they were almost entirely revoked thanks to obvious camera movements (who doesn’t expect something to happen when the actor is to one side of the screen while what’s behind him is in full view, or when there’s a close-up and the camera then pulls back?) or creepy music acting as a big neon sign warning of an impending moment for which to prepare. For a widely publicised film with a huge star in the lead role, not to mention the film’s history as a play and a book, there could and should have been more substance. With such a vast back-catalogue of haunted house films and stories from which to draw on, The Woman In Black could have been one of the scariest films to be released, but instead it found itself with an identity crisis, stuck in no-man’s land somewhere between horror and drama, not quite knowing where to lay its loyalties and eventually deciding on neither. You know you should be scared, but are left wondering why you weren’t. And for a 90-minute film, you’re also left wondering why it took so long for the story to get going. A slow start would be fine had it been a longer film, or picked up to a flurry of activity that left viewers hiding behind their hands from the ceaseless onslaught of scares and suspense, but instead when the lights come on there’s nothing to think but how anti-climatic it transpired to be. Throughout the film, rather than gasps and screams, the most common reaction from the audience was laughter – not the reaction horror filmmakers tend to go for, and a rather clear indication of how scary this film turned out to be.

Perhaps it was the inclusion of Radcliffe that encouraged the writers to keep the film tame – with his fan base predominately comprised of the younger members of society, and his reputation mostly as a child star, it may have been considered too big a leap to enter a bonafide, adult horror film, and instead a deliberate attempt was made to achieve a 12A rating. It’s pure speculation, but if it’s true, it was a mistake. A film like The Woman In Black deserves a genuinely terrifying script with a more experienced director behind the camera to ensure that big scares occur and when they do, they aren’t pre-empted by camera placement or music. The success of the Paranormal Activity trilogy should be a lesson to all horror filmmakers: less is more. An audience is more scared when something happens out of the blue, with nothing to prepare them for the scare; and never fail to make the final thirty minutes a hive of scares. The Woman In Black deserved that treatment, but it didn’t get it.

Rating: 2/5