Friday, May 25, 2012
Friday, May 18, 2012
Further Thoughts on 'The Bridge' - our latest Scandi passion
Loved this comment from Heasgarnich on the Guardian's weekly round-up blog on The Bridge:
I won't say too much here as some are watching this on a different schedule - I know at least one friend who has banked the episodes for a marathon watch next week - but so far we've had five social problems explicitly challenged (by means of death/threatened death), more herrings than a herring farm, and the ever adorable Saga Noren fast becoming one of my favourite ever female characters.
One small thing: the subtitling. Admittedly, most of our criticisms come from immersion in Scandi-drama and attention to the narrative rather than us learning Swedish or Danish, but some of the translations have been ropey or plain wrong (both literally - the subtitles switched references to Eckwall as having been a politician before she was a prosecutor, which should have been the other way around - and also just in terms of sense - Saga says something that clearly SOUNDS like 'if I'd have had sex i'd have said I had sex' but which got translated into something else entirely which made almost no sense at all).
Anyway, we're loving it. Roll on the finale of The Bridge!
You know, watching this makes me worried for a potential remake of this. The US Killing was absolute shit-on-a-kebab-stick-roasted-in-the-fires-of-Mordor. Could you imagine a British version of The Bridge? *shudder*BWAH! I wasn't convinced by the US version of The Killing, but that may be a tad harsh. Nevertheless, this made me chuckle much.
I won't say too much here as some are watching this on a different schedule - I know at least one friend who has banked the episodes for a marathon watch next week - but so far we've had five social problems explicitly challenged (by means of death/threatened death), more herrings than a herring farm, and the ever adorable Saga Noren fast becoming one of my favourite ever female characters.
One small thing: the subtitling. Admittedly, most of our criticisms come from immersion in Scandi-drama and attention to the narrative rather than us learning Swedish or Danish, but some of the translations have been ropey or plain wrong (both literally - the subtitles switched references to Eckwall as having been a politician before she was a prosecutor, which should have been the other way around - and also just in terms of sense - Saga says something that clearly SOUNDS like 'if I'd have had sex i'd have said I had sex' but which got translated into something else entirely which made almost no sense at all).
Anyway, we're loving it. Roll on the finale of The Bridge!
the never ending shower saga...
- needed to contact an electrician - took til just pre-Easter.
- needed new shower
- needed to order new shower - with Easter and trips this took til end of April to arrange delivery / collection.
- plumber advised when trying to install that actually original shower should never have been fitted as wrong power level for the wiring [so could not fit as would not have been safe]
- needed to return newly purchased shower for refund
- needed to contact NEW and different supplier for the most suitable shower
- needed electrician to collect this [as outside of area and opening hours didn't allow us to collect]
- hurrah today electrician came with shower to install.
Problem: faulty valve in shower - manufacturers need to come and deal with it.
Result: still no functioning shower.
Thank heavens we actually have a bath.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Spry, wry, sly: the silken mischief of Richard III - theatre review, Wednesday 16 May 2012 evening performance: RSC Swan Theatre, Stratford-on-Avon
Jonjo O'Neill's Ulster inflection brings a lively and surprising tone to Roxana Silbert's production of Richard III at the Swan Theatre this year. I've not seen the play on stage since I saw (Sir) Ian McKellan's version in 1992, and missed seeing Kevin Spacey tearing up the stage with terrifying and seductive aplomb last year. A shame: but then I may not have been able to enjoy this version as much.
For this is an impish, wilful, tormenting, deluded Gloucester, who becomes King Richard III with daring and relative ease. Is he scary and evil? Not in the usual way: he's manipulative for sure, and plays with those around him with the capriciousness of someone frustrated at their position in life and sometimes stunned at his own capacity for manipulation (as in his delirious buttonholing of a guard after wooing Lady Anne [Pippa Nixon] - it's a kind of "Did she just let me do that?!").
He's also fairly spry in his constrained body, scuttling and emphasising his limitations as he sees fit to suit his needs and means. He's also clearly pathologically beyond the edge, as when he wrestles with one of the young princes and near strangles the child in his fury. O'Neill plays Richard as a wry and sly smiling villain. This is a Richard who grins - whose smile, whose villainous smile - brought to mind the lines from Hamlet:
O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain! [...]And he knows he is in a position of power to wield the need to laugh at his jokes, and force agreement, who will turn in an instant on those who even hint at not conforming to his will and needs. He dares us to laugh at his guile and gall, even as we know he has controlled and caused so many deaths. When he becomes haunted, when he starts to sink under the weight of his own distrust and manipulation, the disintegration is all the more alarming - because we've kinda been rooting for this teasing, vile creature, one who has carefully kept his own hands largely clean and engaged us in being compelled to go along with his climb to the top.
That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain...
As ever, the production is tremendously well put together and I was especially pleased that Paola Dionisotti topped her very fine performance in King John with an exceptionally furious prophesying banshee turn as exiled Margaret. Similarly good was Siobhan Redmond as Elizabeth Woodville. (And my god, that woman always looks amazing as she keeps on giving cracking performances). Brian Ferguson is an arch spin-doctor Buckingham to Gloucester's rise to be Richard III: and he falls as all spin-doctors fall. He who hesitates is cursorily abandoned. And it was good to see Alex Waldmann, so fine as King John, re-appear as Catesby, prepared to follow his master's whims.
Some reviews have criticised O'Neill for being too comedic and too unconvincing at the wickedness, but is that really what we need from all our Dickie 3 performers? Is there no space to play the role differently, to bring out different aspects? This may not please traditionalists, but it is an enjoyable and provocative version and you feel pretty wicked for having laughed with this villain so easily.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Alex Ferguson's begrudged acceptance of 'Man City time'
After many MANY years of notorious quantities of 'Man United time' (a.k.a. ludicrous levels of extra time being played until Manchester United got the required result), Sir Alex Ferguson now bemoans that Man City had a similar thing enabling them towards yesterday's Premier title win.
Still - at least after 44 years Man City fans can finally shut up about the title race. They won by chucking stacks of money at it, and STILL nearly didn't make it. But anyway: Marc Riley will be happy...
"Everybody expected City to win, but they did it against 10 men for half an hour and with five extra minutes to help them," Ferguson said, somewhat pointedly. "But I congratulate City on winning the league. Anybody who wins it deserves it."Hmm. Good to give the congrats, but not so good the pot/kettle routine about the extra time. 'Cos you, dude, Mr Manchester United, have never benefitted from an abundance of extra time being offered, eh...?!
Still - at least after 44 years Man City fans can finally shut up about the title race. They won by chucking stacks of money at it, and STILL nearly didn't make it. But anyway: Marc Riley will be happy...
Thursday, May 10, 2012
In (inevitable) praise of... Avengers Assemble
Well, THAT was pretty awesome. Avengers Assemble (apologies for the clumsy title variant in the UK). Brilliant stuff. Here's the original trailer from last year and the current one for the release.
Helen and I went to see Avengers Assemble last night: neither of us especially well versed in the previous films leading up to this. Did you need to be? Not really: H managed well enough with some handy muttered explanations of the couple sat next to her, and I had enough geek factor to fill in any gaps.
Of course, its (just) a movie and nothing is ever perfect; but Whedon's classic response aside, this is pretty much a fan-geek's dream come true.
There are plenty of delightful set-ups as the characters come on board, but by the end the film is beyond its stride: it is taking colossal steps over everything and throwing an exceptional amount of wit into the dialogue and gestures as it goes. Oh there is LOADS of action. Plus if you don't come out chuckling at the line "Puny God", you obviously went to see another film in error.
As ever, trailers can be a tad revealing, but if you haven't already seen the film, I'd urge you to go. For the spectacle, for the action and for the sparkling Whedon wit. Brilliant!
Helen and I went to see Avengers Assemble last night: neither of us especially well versed in the previous films leading up to this. Did you need to be? Not really: H managed well enough with some handy muttered explanations of the couple sat next to her, and I had enough geek factor to fill in any gaps.
Of course, its (just) a movie and nothing is ever perfect; but Whedon's classic response aside, this is pretty much a fan-geek's dream come true.
There are plenty of delightful set-ups as the characters come on board, but by the end the film is beyond its stride: it is taking colossal steps over everything and throwing an exceptional amount of wit into the dialogue and gestures as it goes. Oh there is LOADS of action. Plus if you don't come out chuckling at the line "Puny God", you obviously went to see another film in error.
As ever, trailers can be a tad revealing, but if you haven't already seen the film, I'd urge you to go. For the spectacle, for the action and for the sparkling Whedon wit. Brilliant!
Friday, April 27, 2012
Impassioned, imprisioned: Reviewing 'The Kidnap Diaries'
What better way to spend your lunch break than watching 'The Kidnap Diaries'? (as was broadcast on BBC4 last night).
Okay, so it may not be everyone's first choice of lunchtime activity but it was a damn fine way to spend mine.
Douglas Henshall plays Sean Langan, a journalist whose bravado gets the better of him when he think he is getting an 'in' to go beyond just meeting the Taleban (which he had previously covered in documentaries) and would now get into the training camps of the Pakistan/Afgan border areas.
It takes Langan a little while to process that he is not 'waiting' for approval to go to the training camps, when he is led - blindfolded, at gunpoint - to be shut in a small room. Sami (Jimi Mistry), his translator who arrives to join him a day or so later, is self-aware more quickly (and, for a while at least, Sami quickly goes off the rails into despair).
They're not getting anywhere close to the training camps: they'll be lucky to escape with their lives.
Langan is perhaps the classic journalist risk-taking - passionate about what he does, a 'fearless journalist' as he often describes himself in the flashback sequences of him with his children, telling them the stories of the 'brave journalist'. Henshall's a great choice for this role: never less than impassioned, he captures the mercurial daring and excess of Langan's journalism and life before the kidnap --- and most beautifully his horrified realisation of what he has got into when he is locked into the small dark room he and Sami are kept in. Henshall is at his best when at the edge: the scene where he refuses to give the Taleban commander the names of his children is heartbreaking (and it is regarding his children and their ever seeing this drama that Langan himself still struggles over - as seen in the interview with Mark Lawson also shown on BBC4). The figure of Langan/Henshall crashes and burns, flying too close to the sun, and the fairytale tales of 'daring-do' that are told to his children on the sofa come to haunt the period of imprisonment.
There have been far too few reviews for this excellent drama - The Telegraph, Metro - but its deserves plaudits for its excellent portrayal of the madness of journalists and the horrors of near-death captivity. We are shown the humanity and pressures of the family to whom the Taleban entrust their prisoners (Gul Jan, played by Andreas Karras) as well as the captors themselves. Mr C, played by Ramon Tikram is terrifying in his relaying of messages from higher up the command - the possibility, probability, of death - all delivered with 'friendly' side-helpings of "bloody good stuff, Mr Langan". The captors have little idea what to do with their quarry and verdicts of guilt are proffered and rescinded, only to be replaced by sentences of death, followed freedom. Everything is qualified, edged, uncertain.
It's a rollercoaster of the worst kind.
Okay, so it may not be everyone's first choice of lunchtime activity but it was a damn fine way to spend mine.
Douglas Henshall plays Sean Langan, a journalist whose bravado gets the better of him when he think he is getting an 'in' to go beyond just meeting the Taleban (which he had previously covered in documentaries) and would now get into the training camps of the Pakistan/Afgan border areas.
It takes Langan a little while to process that he is not 'waiting' for approval to go to the training camps, when he is led - blindfolded, at gunpoint - to be shut in a small room. Sami (Jimi Mistry), his translator who arrives to join him a day or so later, is self-aware more quickly (and, for a while at least, Sami quickly goes off the rails into despair).
They're not getting anywhere close to the training camps: they'll be lucky to escape with their lives.
Langan is perhaps the classic journalist risk-taking - passionate about what he does, a 'fearless journalist' as he often describes himself in the flashback sequences of him with his children, telling them the stories of the 'brave journalist'. Henshall's a great choice for this role: never less than impassioned, he captures the mercurial daring and excess of Langan's journalism and life before the kidnap --- and most beautifully his horrified realisation of what he has got into when he is locked into the small dark room he and Sami are kept in. Henshall is at his best when at the edge: the scene where he refuses to give the Taleban commander the names of his children is heartbreaking (and it is regarding his children and their ever seeing this drama that Langan himself still struggles over - as seen in the interview with Mark Lawson also shown on BBC4). The figure of Langan/Henshall crashes and burns, flying too close to the sun, and the fairytale tales of 'daring-do' that are told to his children on the sofa come to haunt the period of imprisonment.
There have been far too few reviews for this excellent drama - The Telegraph, Metro - but its deserves plaudits for its excellent portrayal of the madness of journalists and the horrors of near-death captivity. We are shown the humanity and pressures of the family to whom the Taleban entrust their prisoners (Gul Jan, played by Andreas Karras) as well as the captors themselves. Mr C, played by Ramon Tikram is terrifying in his relaying of messages from higher up the command - the possibility, probability, of death - all delivered with 'friendly' side-helpings of "bloody good stuff, Mr Langan". The captors have little idea what to do with their quarry and verdicts of guilt are proffered and rescinded, only to be replaced by sentences of death, followed freedom. Everything is qualified, edged, uncertain.
It's a rollercoaster of the worst kind.
In Praise of... The Bridge
Ooooh, am liking - nay, LOVING - The Bridge, the latest BBC4 arrival on the Scandi-drama front.
The deliciously frank Saga Noren is rapidly proving to be a new heroine for me: what does it say about me and my love for Scandi women?! Lisbeth Salander (genius brain, Aspergers); Sarah Lund (smartly insightful, risk-taker, introvert); Birgitte Nyborg (savvy, emotional but tough, isolated); and now Saga Noren (smart, socially awkward, focused).
Some might accuse me liking characters who are either very different to me or in whom I recognise traits of myself (or traits I might admire). But I don't think so - you don't have to identify with characters to find them interesting or affecting (see MediumRob's question of the week). But these characters are appearing in dramas that have very well constructed dramatic arcs, and somehow despite all the cliches these resonate.
The Bridge is shaping up nicely to have a real impact on my Saturday nights (I've almost forgotten what other broadcast stations look like on Saturday nights, so long has the European drama thing been filling my weekends with BBC4). Murders, tension, characters and conflict, politics and social issues: brilliant.
The deliciously frank Saga Noren is rapidly proving to be a new heroine for me: what does it say about me and my love for Scandi women?! Lisbeth Salander (genius brain, Aspergers); Sarah Lund (smartly insightful, risk-taker, introvert); Birgitte Nyborg (savvy, emotional but tough, isolated); and now Saga Noren (smart, socially awkward, focused).
Some might accuse me liking characters who are either very different to me or in whom I recognise traits of myself (or traits I might admire). But I don't think so - you don't have to identify with characters to find them interesting or affecting (see MediumRob's question of the week). But these characters are appearing in dramas that have very well constructed dramatic arcs, and somehow despite all the cliches these resonate.
The Bridge is shaping up nicely to have a real impact on my Saturday nights (I've almost forgotten what other broadcast stations look like on Saturday nights, so long has the European drama thing been filling my weekends with BBC4). Murders, tension, characters and conflict, politics and social issues: brilliant.
Colonisation. War. Terrorism. Gender Issues. Slavery. Communication: more than 'young adult'' fiction - book review of the Chaos Walking Trilogy (Patrick Ness)
Patrick Ness first hit my radar some years ago the book 'The Crash of Hennington', a curious and quirkily enjoyable narrative about a town that lives with a 'crash' of Rhinos amidst them, a crash that frequently charges through the town reaping a level of destructiveness exceeded by the humans who live there.
I was a good way through reading this trilogy - Chaos Walking - before I rediscovered that previous encounter with Ness in my memory bank, but it made sense. For here was a writer whose construction of worlds, no matter how odd, seemed nevertheless to be perfectly human and recognisable even as they vibrated with otherness.
The trilogy may be targeted to a young adult readership, but no-one is dumbed down to here in this complex tale of distinctly adult themes and content. The two central young adult figures - Todd Hewitt and Viola Eade - are placed at the centre of narratives that take in gender debates, war, slavery, and colonisation. Problems around communication and language are central to its narrative.
From the first page we enter a vibrant world: Todd's thoughts are 'audible'... and so are those of his dog. In fact all thoughts of men (and boys) are audible at all times, and so are those of the animals (even though these may be more straightforward and practical, less emotional and harsh).
But there are no women in Todd's world, at least to start with - until he encounters Viola: silent, unknowable Viola.
Because whilst women can hear the thoughts of men and animals, the thoughts of women cannot be heard.
The synopses on the back of each volume give a certain insight into the developing narrative of this other world, which has suitably ambiguous villains and heroes who struggle to be heroic. What is important to note is that these are characters you will care about and feel for: not just the magnificently flawed Todd and Viola, but Ben, Wilf, Hildy, Lee, Simone and others. Even the violence of Mistress Coyle and the deeply vile Mayor Prentiss are characterised with sufficient detail and ambiguity to be able to see how actions can be justified in the most horrific of circumstances. Not all characters are good - even those who are 'good' do bad things - but it is a mark of Ness's quality of writing that his narratives do not shy away from ambivalence and horror.
There are many deaths that will move and bereave the reader as they work through the approximately 1600 pages that make up this trilogy: they're worth every second of your reading. And by the end... you'll have reached the end and will project forward the necessary, appropriate resolution.
I've still got another of Ness's titles to read - A Monster Calls, which was developed from an idea by writer Siobhan Dowd (who sadly died before she could bring the idea to fruition: "She had the characters, a detailed premise, and a beginning. What she didn't have, unfortunately, was time".). The text is beautifully - and scarily - illustrated by Jim Kay and I'm definitely looking forward to engaging with that.
I was a good way through reading this trilogy - Chaos Walking - before I rediscovered that previous encounter with Ness in my memory bank, but it made sense. For here was a writer whose construction of worlds, no matter how odd, seemed nevertheless to be perfectly human and recognisable even as they vibrated with otherness.
The trilogy may be targeted to a young adult readership, but no-one is dumbed down to here in this complex tale of distinctly adult themes and content. The two central young adult figures - Todd Hewitt and Viola Eade - are placed at the centre of narratives that take in gender debates, war, slavery, and colonisation. Problems around communication and language are central to its narrative.
From the first page we enter a vibrant world: Todd's thoughts are 'audible'... and so are those of his dog. In fact all thoughts of men (and boys) are audible at all times, and so are those of the animals (even though these may be more straightforward and practical, less emotional and harsh).
But there are no women in Todd's world, at least to start with - until he encounters Viola: silent, unknowable Viola.
Because whilst women can hear the thoughts of men and animals, the thoughts of women cannot be heard.
The synopses on the back of each volume give a certain insight into the developing narrative of this other world, which has suitably ambiguous villains and heroes who struggle to be heroic. What is important to note is that these are characters you will care about and feel for: not just the magnificently flawed Todd and Viola, but Ben, Wilf, Hildy, Lee, Simone and others. Even the violence of Mistress Coyle and the deeply vile Mayor Prentiss are characterised with sufficient detail and ambiguity to be able to see how actions can be justified in the most horrific of circumstances. Not all characters are good - even those who are 'good' do bad things - but it is a mark of Ness's quality of writing that his narratives do not shy away from ambivalence and horror.
There are many deaths that will move and bereave the reader as they work through the approximately 1600 pages that make up this trilogy: they're worth every second of your reading. And by the end... you'll have reached the end and will project forward the necessary, appropriate resolution.
I've still got another of Ness's titles to read - A Monster Calls, which was developed from an idea by writer Siobhan Dowd (who sadly died before she could bring the idea to fruition: "She had the characters, a detailed premise, and a beginning. What she didn't have, unfortunately, was time".). The text is beautifully - and scarily - illustrated by Jim Kay and I'm definitely looking forward to engaging with that.
Sunday, April 08, 2012
"Mad world! Mad Kings! Mad composition!" - rethinking power and gender in King John: RSC, Swan Theatre, Saturday 7 April 2012 preview
King John used to be a real crowd-pleaser (back in the 19th century), but has had long periods of having fallen out of favour. It's hard to see why, since this history play is eminently adaptable to commentary on power, authority, and - in this version especially - gender. With several strong women characters already in the play, the balance of this production tips even further to the female, with The Bastard being played with the sinewy strength by Pippa Nixon and the Legate Pandulph portrayed by a magisterial and elegant Paola Dionisotti.
Alex Waldman makes the title role that of a headstrong but ultimately chaos-wreaking young man, out of his depth amidst such strong women. He fails to compromise, then compromises, and is eventually bought down by poison: a real 'inside I'm dancing' thrash to the death, putting on the show to convince himself more than anyone else. He's mortified at the pathetic nature of his departure from life. I think Waldman could go far as he's pretty mesmerizing to watch even as this flawed and malleable King. Resembling James McAvoy won't do the guy any harm either...
There are some nice flashes of humour and incongruity throughout the production - many allow Nixon space to soliloquize to a rapt audience. She stops the show, the party, the politics, to comment on the mad family who have allowed her 'Couer-de-Lion' features a role in shoring up these 'Nations at War' (to use the RSC's over-arching thread which includes this play and Richard III*). Nixon plays The Bastard as one with amused detachment and simultaneously fierce confidence: s/he open the play with a solo ukulele version of 'Land of Hope and Glory', before the music launches fully into Pomp and Circumstance mode and the coronation of John garners exultant (if sychophantic) cheers in front of an irked Chatillion (the fine if under-used Edmund Kingsley**).
There is also a hilarious sequence - if in terms of the play utterly superfluous - where the party to celebrate the (doomed) marriage of Blanche and Lewis, the Dauphin, becomes a recreation of the Dirty Dancing finale complete with a finger-clicking advance and a leap/lift. It's incongruous, but also rather charming - families willing this compromise to work, but realising all too late that it cannot when the authority of the Church turns up in the form of an imperious Legate to bring wayward John and England's faith back into line. The party comes to an abrupt end, and Blanche is left once more the pawn of the power-plays where her body and mind are merely exchangeable commodities on an alter of authoritarianism.
The play makes good use of the mother figures, who elsewhere are all too easily given to histrionics in productions of King John: here Constance (mother of the doomed Arthur) is suitably grief-stricken but the distress is contained whilst being no less powerful for that. Additionally, the ever-luminous Siobhan Redmond*** makes for a righteous power behind-the-throne Queen Elinor. Her off-stage death brings to an swift end her efforts to manage the wayward, hotheaded John. Her political accommodations befit her own strengths as a royal force to be acknowledged.
For me, there is just one slightly wrong note in this production: the conflation of The Bastard with Hubert, who is 'instructed' by John to kill the young Arthur and fails. Sadly, for me it does not seem to quite work. Is it being female that weakens the act of putting out the eyes of the young prince? It undermines the otherwise smart but not so simplistic gender-switch of The Bastard.
But this is a minor complaint in a very savvy production, worth seeing and which I am sure will iron out any rough edges from this preview version (it was only the second performance).
In the meantime, we'll be back next month when I'm looking forward to seeing the delightful Jonjo O'Neill again playing Richard III. Should be fun.
* The trilogy of 'Nations of War' concludes with 'A Soldier in Every Son - The Rise of the Aztecs'
** Yup, Sir B's progeny
*** Yes, that was how I sold Neil the play. Plus, ya know, politics and history. He likes them.
"If you Like Fargo, You'll like this" - Film Review: Headhunters (Jo Nesbo) - Broadway Cinema Nottingham Good Friday 2012
Although we've diligently read the Harry Hole books of Jo Nesbo, from 'The Redbreast' onwards, we'd not gone back and read Nesbo's earlier fiction such as 'Headhunters'.
I'm tempted to see how it now compares, because having found the film a joyous revisitation of the best of the early Coen Brothers films - especially Fargo - I'm keen to see if the book has half the black humour and bloody verve of the film version.
For those who think that the world has been a little short of farce, brutal violence, and dislikeable characters becoming 'rooting-for-em' heroes of empathy, then Headhunters is for you. Busting genres with gleeful abandon, it switches from art theft, to corporate manipulation, with crashes, cesspits, webcams, guns, knives, tractors, trained-to-kill-dogs and everything in between.
I laughed out loud as often as I hid behind my hands at the blood, but it was well worth it. Don't fret that for the for first 15-20+ minutes you want to slap the greedy, self-important Roger Brown (with a height complex), pretty soon you'll be hoping his sorry ass survives the psychotic violence that ends up tracking him through cars, hospitals, and hoodies. It's a mad ride, but utterly enjoyable.
Skip watching the trailer (as ever, I think it gives way too much away) and just go and revel its its excess. A total blast.
Bonus point: the film has a running time of a brisk 90 minutes. Brilliant!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)