A-Z of Little Things
Little Boot's new single is Remedy, which I think is the most exciting dance record of the year and the reason I probably think that is because it seems to be designed specifically for the kinds of people who wouldn't typically listen to dance music and don't know how to dance to it. In other words, the crowd at this live show:
Boots is working really very hard and a bloke at the front who is texting. Arse. Whenever I've seen Boots on television, like Duffy to some extent, she's never quite managed to capture the spark of the record. Thanks to YouTube I can now see that in fact Boots is great live, even if this audience doesn't think so. A typical television appearance can be found in a clip from Later With Jools Holland:
Here, she hasn't quite decided on how to do her music on television yet. Her vocal's a bit scrappy and she doesn't seem to know what to do with herself, shifting back and forth from the keyboard. But Boots does have bags of screen presence and it must be horrendous even attempting to sing live a record with so many vocal repetitions. If only she could somehow bring the person who turned up in Manchester that night to television.
Finally she has. Witness GMtv yesterday morning. Notice that she's moved the keyboard closer:
PopJustice think this is her best tv performance yet. And they're right.
we dislike him so much
Film Rope is a film of firsts. The director's first use of technicolour, though trust Hitchcock to have been given the gift of technicolour then use it in a film completely set in a drab apartment with characters wearing muted colours. First appearance for Jimmy Stewart in a Hitchcock film, as the professor of the murderous boys or eventually figures out the mechanics of their scheme, here resting just between a Capraesque everyman and morally ambiguous figure of Rear Window and Vertigo. First time Hitchcock manages to make a film in which the suspense develops even without the need for fast cutting and the reduction of information. First time that a director intended to give the impression of one continuous shot running right through the film (a subject covered in some detail at the wikipedia).
It’s a technical tour-de-force. In these days of digital-cameras in which Mike Figgis can shoot four whole feature films simultaneously in real time and have them all interact with each other and then repeat the process daily over a whole month (which is how he shot Timecode), it’s perhaps difficult to accept the effort that went into stitching together the eighty-minutes of Rope. But these were heavy cameras; furniture and parts of the set had to be pulled in and out and silently too since he was actually recording naked sound from the stage and blocking everything out so that the end of each ten minute reel of film matched the right point so that the next one could pick up hassle free. And on top of that, having to reshoot the second half of the film again because the director of photography had misunderstood what was needed to show the on-creep of dawn though the sky-light.
The actors have said they appreciated the opportunity to develop their roles over a longer scene without too much directorial interference. The cast of Timecode said much the same thing. Except in Rope, there’s no improvisation, everyone has to stay on-script, since to dawdle, to throw in some new element would ruin the timing, which makes the performances all the more impressive. True, there’s an element of stage acting, but even in a theatre (and in a television studio) there’s latitude to move about. I can’t imagine how hard it would have been to not only have to remember Patrick Hamilton’s dialogue but also the blocking, especially John Dall, who is in nearly every scene. It’s arguably his sneer that makes moments like the famous one in which the camera stays on the wooden chest work, because we dislike him so much we’re desperate for Stewart to realise where the body has been left.
at the drummer's own wedding
Music Last year during the mystery music month I wrote about Airhead's Funny How and lamented its obscurity, my only copy a recording from a MW radio broadcast. It leapt back into my brain tonight when I tried out and beat Lyric Rat, a song search engine,. The rat hasn't heard of it. Which then led me to check YouTube, where I found this:
A video of the band playing the song live at the drummer's own wedding. The tempo has slowed but the sound is still there. Further research reveals their myspace page, with Airhead streaming. Having heard the off-air version so many times, my brain somehow misses the electromagnetic interference caused by our tower block lift going up and down.
There's also a petition to get the album (including Funny How) rereleased which already has 691 signatures and I think we should all sign. I've now decided I need a cleaner copy.
A video of the band playing the song live at the drummer's own wedding. The tempo has slowed but the sound is still there. Further research reveals their myspace page, with Airhead streaming. Having heard the off-air version so many times, my brain somehow misses the electromagnetic interference caused by our tower block lift going up and down.
There's also a petition to get the album (including Funny How) rereleased which already has 691 signatures and I think we should all sign. I've now decided I need a cleaner copy.
Doesn't feature much different from what we've heard before
Anna Pickard's excellent Comic-Con dispatches: "While some of us spent most of the day with a large sleeping gentleman dribbling on our shoulder on one side and a lady eating jerky with her mouth open on the other; there were many other things happening around the San Diego convention centre."
Stephen's Dr Who script finally to enter production. Honestly. "There is no clue as to the title of the story, nor the precise location of the scene. All it is possible to surmise is that it appears to be a conversation between two people, Dr Who and the Black Guardian."
Jonathan Rosenbaum's 1998 critique of the AFI's list of the "best" 100 US films of all time. Sadly he doesn't also tell us which films from the past ten years he might add.
There have been two albums apparently. Plenty to choose from…
Intelligent piece. Doesn't feature much different from what we've heard before, but it makes a change to hear him talking about Doctor Who and that other thing with the thing. Plus can you believe: Russell T. Davies interviewed by The AV Club.
Good to have a preview of what Marcus's spot is going to be ahead of schedule.
… which basically branded Richard Herring a racist. I love The Guardian. But sometimes it makes me grind my teeth so much, my fillings might fall out. Someone get Siobhan Butterworth on the phone.
The Daily Mail wonders why it's readership might be stressed out. Here are a few suggestions …
Long range Star Trek fans will remember ion engines being chatted about in spin-off novels and books in the 90s. Warp drives the century after next then?
And the answer seems to be "Yes, well no, well maybe. Listen …"
Gawker asks Wurtzel and her answer seems to be: "Yes, well no, well maybe. Listen …"
#fltq
Quiz! On Sunday night, on a whim, because sometimes I can have a whim and do things on them, I ran an ad-hoc music quiz on twitter. After it was over, I suggested that we should have a proper quiz some time and that I'd write about it on the blog "in the next few days..." Here it is.
I suggest we convene on Twitter at around eight o'clock GMT on Sunday 2nd August.
Here's how I think it should work:
* No prizes. This is just for fun. An experiment.
* There will be just ten questions. At least this time, just to see how we go.
* General knowledge to give everyone a fair go.
* I'll tweet a question about every five minutes and everyone will have those five minutes to @reply with an answer.
* At the end of the five minutes I'll tweet the answer and a scoreboard so that everyone can see where they're up to.
And, um, that's it. Everything else is up to your own conscience. You know what I mean. Pub quizzes haven't been the same since the invention of the text message have they?
Sound good? Oh and the hash tag will be #fltq (feeling listless twitter quiz, you see, plus its short enough to make room for the questions). And you'll obviously need to follow me to take part at http://www.twitter.com/feelinglistess.
I suggest we convene on Twitter at around eight o'clock GMT on Sunday 2nd August.
Here's how I think it should work:
* No prizes. This is just for fun. An experiment.
* There will be just ten questions. At least this time, just to see how we go.
* General knowledge to give everyone a fair go.
* I'll tweet a question about every five minutes and everyone will have those five minutes to @reply with an answer.
* At the end of the five minutes I'll tweet the answer and a scoreboard so that everyone can see where they're up to.
And, um, that's it. Everything else is up to your own conscience. You know what I mean. Pub quizzes haven't been the same since the invention of the text message have they?
Sound good? Oh and the hash tag will be #fltq (feeling listless twitter quiz, you see, plus its short enough to make room for the questions). And you'll obviously need to follow me to take part at http://www.twitter.com/feelinglistess.
Josie Long is hilarious
Comedy I think Josie Long is hilarious. Her routine on tonight's You Have Been Watching about the sheer horror of enjoying The Jeremy Kyle Show was a perfectly timed bit of comic desperation, especially as she rolled in the comments from Frankie Boyle and Charlie Brooker.
She's equally clever in the following. It's the Australian version of recent ITV improv failure "Thank God You're Here" and she's playing the part of Nicole Kidman or something.
Her fellow actors don't miss a beat either. Genius.
She's equally clever in the following. It's the Australian version of recent ITV improv failure "Thank God You're Here" and she's playing the part of Nicole Kidman or something.
Her fellow actors don't miss a beat either. Genius.
I’m going to be on the plinth!
Life It’s half past two this afternoon. I'm at work. My mobile phone rings. My mobile phone never rings when I’m at work. It caught me unawares. I dash somewhere private.
“Hello.”
“Hello, is that Stuart?”
“Speaking.”
“Hello this is [name redacted] from One & Other.”
“Oh, um, err, hello.”
“Hello, yes, a slot has opened up on the 10th August at 9am and we wondered if you could make it.”
“Oh, um, err. Actually, that’s a bit early ….”
“[silence]”
“I don’t know if I can make that. It’s a bit early – I don’t think I could get there in time. Um, can I say no?”
“Oh. Oh right. Oh ok. Thanks anyway.”
“Take care.”
“Bye.”
My work colleagues asked who it was. I told them. What, they said, stay overnight, you can't not do that. I know but it’s hard to get to. Oh well I suppose. Oh shit. I check my mobile. The office number is still in the memory.
“Hello [name redacted].”
“Oh hello, this is Stuart you just phone me about the plinth. Is that [name redacted].”
“Oh no I’ll put you through.”
I wait.
“Hello this is [name redacted].”
“Hello, this is Stuart. You just phoned about the plinth slot. I was just wondering if it would be possible for me to change my mind.”
“Oh erm, yes. Which slot where you?”
”August 11th, 9 in the morning.”
“I don’t have an empty slot …”
“Sorry, August 10th.”
“Oh yes, there you are. Right, I’ll send you a confirmation email.”
“Thanks! Sorry about before I was in the middle of something and I wasn’t quite prepared for…”
“That’s ok.”
“Take care.”
People who’ve known me for any kind of extended period will know I have a habit of doing that, find reasons not to do something before pushing myself to do them for the good ones and this is a very good one.
I’m going to be on the plinth! In Trafalgar Square. As part of Antony Gormley's One & Other. August 10th, 9 in the morning.
Here is my profile. The photo will look very familiar to some of you, but despite the crooked smile and three o'clock shadow it’s the best one I have.
People tend to say two things. Wow, congratulations and what are you going to do?
I still have a couple of weeks but I think I’m probably going to simply enjoy the experience; contrary to what you might assume I’m not really an exhibitionist, I don’t have the brass balls to hold a placard with the words “I’m glad Ianto’s dead” or whatever as was suggested to me earlier on Twitter.
I’ve seen enough of the archived videos to recognise the number of people who’ve tried something but it’s gone horribly wrong and then they have the rest of the hour to contemplate their failure or it’s a single idea which they then have to spin out for the excruciating sixty minutes.
I think I’m probably just going to write a blog entry (long hand) about what it feels like to be up there, take some pictures, perhaps read my book. My methodology has always been, keep it simple, and that sounds like the way to go here.
At least I think it is. Up until now.
The other by-product is that I’m going to be in London for a few days and I’ll be able to visit some of the parts of Shakespeare’s life that weren’t in Stratford, amongst other things. That should be good for a few hundred blog entries at least.
“Hello.”
“Hello, is that Stuart?”
“Speaking.”
“Hello this is [name redacted] from One & Other.”
“Oh, um, err, hello.”
“Hello, yes, a slot has opened up on the 10th August at 9am and we wondered if you could make it.”
“Oh, um, err. Actually, that’s a bit early ….”
“[silence]”
“I don’t know if I can make that. It’s a bit early – I don’t think I could get there in time. Um, can I say no?”
“Oh. Oh right. Oh ok. Thanks anyway.”
“Take care.”
“Bye.”
My work colleagues asked who it was. I told them. What, they said, stay overnight, you can't not do that. I know but it’s hard to get to. Oh well I suppose. Oh shit. I check my mobile. The office number is still in the memory.
“Hello [name redacted].”
“Oh hello, this is Stuart you just phone me about the plinth. Is that [name redacted].”
“Oh no I’ll put you through.”
I wait.
“Hello this is [name redacted].”
“Hello, this is Stuart. You just phoned about the plinth slot. I was just wondering if it would be possible for me to change my mind.”
“Oh erm, yes. Which slot where you?”
”August 11th, 9 in the morning.”
“I don’t have an empty slot …”
“Sorry, August 10th.”
“Oh yes, there you are. Right, I’ll send you a confirmation email.”
“Thanks! Sorry about before I was in the middle of something and I wasn’t quite prepared for…”
“That’s ok.”
“Take care.”
People who’ve known me for any kind of extended period will know I have a habit of doing that, find reasons not to do something before pushing myself to do them for the good ones and this is a very good one.
I’m going to be on the plinth! In Trafalgar Square. As part of Antony Gormley's One & Other. August 10th, 9 in the morning.
Here is my profile. The photo will look very familiar to some of you, but despite the crooked smile and three o'clock shadow it’s the best one I have.
People tend to say two things. Wow, congratulations and what are you going to do?
I still have a couple of weeks but I think I’m probably going to simply enjoy the experience; contrary to what you might assume I’m not really an exhibitionist, I don’t have the brass balls to hold a placard with the words “I’m glad Ianto’s dead” or whatever as was suggested to me earlier on Twitter.
I’ve seen enough of the archived videos to recognise the number of people who’ve tried something but it’s gone horribly wrong and then they have the rest of the hour to contemplate their failure or it’s a single idea which they then have to spin out for the excruciating sixty minutes.
I think I’m probably just going to write a blog entry (long hand) about what it feels like to be up there, take some pictures, perhaps read my book. My methodology has always been, keep it simple, and that sounds like the way to go here.
At least I think it is. Up until now.
The other by-product is that I’m going to be in London for a few days and I’ll be able to visit some of the parts of Shakespeare’s life that weren’t in Stratford, amongst other things. That should be good for a few hundred blog entries at least.
lifetimes
History With the sad death over the weekend of Harry Patch, the last surviving ‘Great’ War veteran, a vital link to that conflict has been lost. In November, for the first time there’ll no living survivors to remember their colleagues so it’s vitally important that we should be there for them, just as we should pay attention to the contribution made historically to any man or woman who has set their own safety aside to defend ours (and especially in wars which we might consider to be unjust because they were and are also brave enough to do their duty).
It’s through the longevity of these veterans that up until today we could still consider World War I as being within living memory. Patch was 111 when he died. Henry Allingham, who died last week, was 113. The oldest living person is Gertrude Baines of the United States, who was born on 6 April 1894 at 115 years old. She was born in the year Manchester City Football Club was formed, Blackpool Tower was opened, the International Olympic Committee was founded and William Kennedy Dickson received a patent for motion picture film.
As I wrote yesterday of how Elizabethan times can seem like a fictional realm and how seeing Robert Dudley’s tomb brought the period to life, I thought too about how, if you were to take people of great longevity into account, there aren’t that many lifetimes between now and then; that in her early life Gertrude would have been on the planet with someone who was born during the Napoleonic Wars and they in turn the Anglo-Spanish War. Today, with the aid of the Wikipedia, I think I’ve worked out that there are only five lives between us and somebody who could recall the Spanish Armada.
Gertrude Baines was born in was born April 6, 1894. Two months later Karl Eduard Zachariae von Lingenthal the eminent German jurist died, he was born on December 24, 1812 which was the death day of George Beck, American artist and poet. Beck was born in 1749 the year that Handel gave his first performance of Music for the Royal Fireworks. The Italian painter Giovanni Maria Galli da Bibiena died in that year. In 1656, the year of de Bibiena’s birth, Thomas Fincke the Danish mathematician and physicist perished. He was born in 1561.
Five lifetimes between us and someone who, if they’d left Denmark, could have watched a play at the Globe and for whom Shakespeare was a contemporary. Wow. Of course, though facts become murkier, you can continue even further backwards:
In the year that Finke was born, we find the funeral of Claude Garamond, the French publisher and designer of the famous typeface. He was born a whole twelve years before Christopher Columbus set sail for the Americas in 1480. Tristão Vaz Teixeira explorer (‘discovered’ the Madeira Islands) died that year and assuming he was born in 1395 (the wikipedia isn’t sure), it was at the same time John Barbour the Scottish poet left us. He originally joined us in 1320 when Ricold of Monte Croce, Italian Dominican missionary died. To close out the millennium:
Hōjō Yasutoki, regent of Japan (1183-1242)
William Fitz Robert, 2nd Earl of Gloucester (1116-1183)
Robert of Arbrissel, preacher (1045-1116)
Emperor Go-Suzaku of Japan (1009-1045)
Emperor Go-Suzaku born one thousand years ago. Thirteen lifetimes. There could even be less. The wikipedia only lists royals, artists, scientists and celebrities – for all we know there were people who simply worked hard and survive all of their lives whose births and deaths weren’t recorded. And, I’ve only created linkages through hatches and dispatches in the same year. With more time, a more complex hunt using a wider range of sources could narrow the gap even further too.
Thirteen lifetimes. A thousand years. Like I said, wow.
It’s through the longevity of these veterans that up until today we could still consider World War I as being within living memory. Patch was 111 when he died. Henry Allingham, who died last week, was 113. The oldest living person is Gertrude Baines of the United States, who was born on 6 April 1894 at 115 years old. She was born in the year Manchester City Football Club was formed, Blackpool Tower was opened, the International Olympic Committee was founded and William Kennedy Dickson received a patent for motion picture film.
As I wrote yesterday of how Elizabethan times can seem like a fictional realm and how seeing Robert Dudley’s tomb brought the period to life, I thought too about how, if you were to take people of great longevity into account, there aren’t that many lifetimes between now and then; that in her early life Gertrude would have been on the planet with someone who was born during the Napoleonic Wars and they in turn the Anglo-Spanish War. Today, with the aid of the Wikipedia, I think I’ve worked out that there are only five lives between us and somebody who could recall the Spanish Armada.
Gertrude Baines was born in was born April 6, 1894. Two months later Karl Eduard Zachariae von Lingenthal the eminent German jurist died, he was born on December 24, 1812 which was the death day of George Beck, American artist and poet. Beck was born in 1749 the year that Handel gave his first performance of Music for the Royal Fireworks. The Italian painter Giovanni Maria Galli da Bibiena died in that year. In 1656, the year of de Bibiena’s birth, Thomas Fincke the Danish mathematician and physicist perished. He was born in 1561.
Five lifetimes between us and someone who, if they’d left Denmark, could have watched a play at the Globe and for whom Shakespeare was a contemporary. Wow. Of course, though facts become murkier, you can continue even further backwards:
In the year that Finke was born, we find the funeral of Claude Garamond, the French publisher and designer of the famous typeface. He was born a whole twelve years before Christopher Columbus set sail for the Americas in 1480. Tristão Vaz Teixeira explorer (‘discovered’ the Madeira Islands) died that year and assuming he was born in 1395 (the wikipedia isn’t sure), it was at the same time John Barbour the Scottish poet left us. He originally joined us in 1320 when Ricold of Monte Croce, Italian Dominican missionary died. To close out the millennium:
Hōjō Yasutoki, regent of Japan (1183-1242)
William Fitz Robert, 2nd Earl of Gloucester (1116-1183)
Robert of Arbrissel, preacher (1045-1116)
Emperor Go-Suzaku of Japan (1009-1045)
Emperor Go-Suzaku born one thousand years ago. Thirteen lifetimes. There could even be less. The wikipedia only lists royals, artists, scientists and celebrities – for all we know there were people who simply worked hard and survive all of their lives whose births and deaths weren’t recorded. And, I’ve only created linkages through hatches and dispatches in the same year. With more time, a more complex hunt using a wider range of sources could narrow the gap even further too.
Thirteen lifetimes. A thousand years. Like I said, wow.
gutted
Life Watching The Winter’s Tale at the RSC wasn’t the only occasion I became sentimental on the trip. The other was in Warwick at the Collegiate Church of St Marys. One of the most important religious buildings in the country, it betrays all of hallmarks of church history, having been built and rebuilt over the years. The crypt is the original Norman structure from when the land was originally consecrated in 1123. It’s especially famous because of its Beauchamp Chapel, constructed in the Fifteenth Century to house the tomb of Richard Beauchamp, the Earl of Warwick and “one of the richest and most powerful people in the history of our country” [source].
And it is beautiful, as regal and colourful as you’d imagine Egyptian burial chambers must have been before time and grave robbers intervened. I was already suitably impressed and then I bothered to read the guide leaflet and one of the plaques for confirmation and yelped. For this is also the final resting place of Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, his wife, his brother Ambrose Dudley, Earl of Warwick, and his son. And Dudley’s important because he’s the man Elizabeth I would have married given half a chance if duty and political intrigue hadn’t intervened. If you’re a fan of the period he’s one of the figures who looms large.
But all too easily we forget that these people really existed, history with the help of film and television and indeed the revisionism of historians spinning off and winding itself into its own fiction. Only in situations like this are you reminded of the reality and here I was standing within his final resting place and amongst his immediate family, which is about as realistic as these things can become. I was, to use a good Liverpudlian word, gutted and in a way which hadn’t happened at Shakespeare’s birthplace, presumably because I’d been prepared for that and because he isn't commemorated by an effigial tomb (pictured) which illustrates the man in such a vital manner.
ultimately comes
TV The rather good Canon and Sheep Shit: Why We Fight attempts to come to terms with canonicity in Doctor Who and ultimately comes to the same conclusion that I do. That there is no canon, or as I tend to put it, everything is canon. He quotes from a fair few writers, and the most telling and predictably clever is Steven Moffat:
"It is impossible for a show about a dimension-hopping time traveller to have a canon."This might well be the second Doctor Who related post in a day, but it is a Saturday and I'm probably pining [via].
any old rubbish onto the screen
TV The headline on this post-broadcast interview with Russell T Davies on the death of Torchwood's Ianto is a bit misleading (he says it in jest), but nonetheless this is a typically entertaining interview in which Russell basically tells those fans who are still riled up about the whole thing to, well, grow up:
"People often say, 'Fans have got their knives out!' They haven't got any knives. I haven't been stabbed. Nothing's happened. It's simply a few people typing. I'm glad they're typing because they’re that involved. But if you can’t handle drama you shouldn’t watch it. Find something else. Go look at poetry. Poetry’s wonderful."The reaction in the comments is as you'd expect:
"I already watch Supernatural thank you very much. I will gladly never watch anything you ever make again. You are a poor excuse for a writer and a nasty human being at that RTD. You have no respect for your fans or your characters. I wish you nothing but bad luck."Even though, if he was a poor excuse for a writer you wouldn't care about any of this in the first place J.B. and if Russell didn't have any respect for his fans he'd just do what many other producers on tv do and push any old rubbish onto the screen, because, y'know, it is only sci-fi. Get some perspective (!).
The Collaborative Spotify Playlist
Surprise!
I love the unexpected, especially in music, and how sometimes the juxtaposition of two elements that shouldn't be within a country mile (or at the very least the length of the Liverpool Arena) away from one another, somehow when merged, create a bit of magic. Dean Stockwell raps. A school choir sings the theme from Transformers (in Japanese). Lily Allen covers ELO. And whatever it is Samuel L Jackson is doing here. This collaborative playlist is an attempt to gather such things together, in other words, weird cover versions and the like. Please add your own.
Where did all the cheese go?
Food I've sent an email ...
[Of course frozen pizza rarely looks like the box or something from a restaurant and I should have known better but this was a treat and I mean look at it ... ]
UPDATED! 27/07/09 I've already received a reply:
To: Customer Relations, Northern Foods:Those photographs in full ...
Find attached some photographs of your San Marco Familia Hawaii frozen pizza and the illustrative photograph from the box. I have but one question:
Where did all the cheese go?
There didn't seem to be much when I took the pizza out of the plastic wrapper but I hoped that it would spread out a bit during the cooking process. Unfortunately, and disappointingly (as you can see), that didn't happen. So instead of the juicy looking pizza on the box which had enticed me to select that instead of the others in Asda's freezer whilst shopping the other day, I ended up with the offering I've just had to crunch through for dinner this evening.
I know that when I cook a pizza it's not going to look exactly the same -- you have better ovens than we do, but surely suggesting that we would be getting a topping that looked one way and offering something else in the box is a bit unfair. In case you're wondering that isn't cooked cheese in the middle it's where some bare pasty has burned to a crisp. I could talk also about the dry bits of ham and the rather limp pineapple but I think I've already made my point.
I was disappointed, my dinner was ruined, and that is a shame.
Take care,
Stuart.
[Of course frozen pizza rarely looks like the box or something from a restaurant and I should have known better but this was a treat and I mean look at it ... ]
UPDATED! 27/07/09 I've already received a reply:
Dear Mr. Burns,Thanks very much to them for the swift reply and as I said I will be trying their pizza again. I wonder what they'll send me...
Thank you for contacting us regarding your recent complaint with San Marco Hawaiian pizza. Please accept our sincere apologies for any inconvenience caused as a result of this incident.
All the toppings are placed on the pizzas mechanically and then between the final topping stage and the spiral freezer, all products must pass our Visual Inspectors. I must apologise for the momentary lapse by our Visual Inspectors, which gave rise to this problem and allowed this defective product to pass undetected into the distribution chain.
All relevant Production, Quality Control and Marketing staff for this product have been informed of your complaint. Please be assured that we at Green Isle Foods go to great lengths to ensure that all our products meet the usual high standards.
I appreciate that you took the time to notify us of this problem and I trust you will have enough confidence in our product to try it again.
Please forward your home address as I would like to send a gesture of goodwill.
Many Thanks & Kind Regards
[name redacted]
Customer Services
Green Isle Foods.
geocities rescue
And so for one final time ...
The Cultural Tastes of the First Big Brother Eleven
The Big Brother house was a necessarily sterile place where cultural pursuits were kept to a minimum. But whether on purpose or through subtle manipulation the Big Brother Eleven became a microcosm of the current state of Popular and High culture in the UK. Don’t believe me? Lets take this one step at a time . .
A few weeks in, on the completion of a mini-task the group are given the chance of seeing any film. Any film at all, the entirety of film history available. The lads, predictably start suggesting horror films. Someone offers ‘that new film by Jim Carrey’ (which would have tested the resources of Brother Big, not exactly being out then) – until someone chimes in with ‘Happy Gilmore’, the Adam Sandler golf classic. A few votes and the suggestion is carried. Popular cinema selected over high brow – hmm – has anyone seen this week’s box office list? Later, we found an example of how the public tends to view television. Clamouring as they were for ‘East is East’, Big Brother decided that perhaps they would be more invigorated by the works of Bobby Davro, paralleling the attitude of the two main TV channels on a Saturday night. In other words, ‘We know you want to see something half decent, but we’ll put this on because you’ll probably watch it anyway . . .’ Born out by the fact that all of the housemates stay for the first episode on the tape, and after the girls went to bed, the boys viewed the other three, taking the attitude that watching anything is better than watching nothing at all.
The choice of house literature, although only glimpsed at, was also pretty significant, taking in many of the big sellers of the past few years – Thomas Harris, ‘Hannibal’ and the Chinese family epic ‘Wild Swans’ snubbing Seamus Heaney and the rest of his Whitbread colleagues.
Perhaps most interesting are the musical choices. Music is of course not usually allowed in the Big Brother house, the only comfort being Anna’s guitar, or what appears to be the soundtrack album, pumped into the house on Friday nights (loved on the first Friday ignored by the last). Understandably, music does not otherwise get mentioned. We’d find out that Craig loves the middle of the road delights of Rod Stewart and Phil Collins, which is probably the musical taste of ten percent of the viewing audience. Then, in the final few days, the remaining three housemates chose the record they would most like to hear after ten weeks without contact from the outside world. Craig decides his thing is ‘I was only joking’ by Rod Stewart, because it reminds him of being at school. Darren chooses the new version of ‘Good Life’ by Inner City, which reminds him of his kids dancing.. Now Anna. Anna, the lesbian ex-nun with a folksy guitar talent who one might expect to chime in with something acoustic chooses – ‘Together in Electric Dreams’ by Georgio Morodor with Phil Oakey. Oddly enough it kind of sticks out. A track which was created for a film that no one has seen since 1984. The least expected song from nowhere. Some personal resonance here. It’s in my top ten songs as well. And more often than not it has the same reaction for me as for her. She cried, her face awash with memories of club visits of the past and friends she’s missed, her housemates reaction underlining just how alone she feels. Probably the most touching moment of the entire series. Just a pity Craig spoilt the thing by laughing through it. If you can dig out the film, it’s worth it. A touching love triangle between a guy, his girl and a computer. It’s years ahead of its time. Think ‘Being John Malkovitch’ with Eighties production values.
UPDATE! In the aftermath of Big Brother, the Eleven have quietly been making a name for themselves in various corners of the media, but in ways no one would have predicted. Nicola releases a single, which reaches the heady heights of the low seventies in the charts. Anna appears in a catwalk show, and the promised folk singing career is nowhere to be seen (although she was good on TFI ). Craig doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself, although award shows, Ready Steady Cook, A Question Of Sport, and book signings is a start. Also signing is Clare who is also introducing a review programme about Clubs in the middle of the night. Darren is spending time with his kids. Andy co-‘presents’ an entertainment review show on Channel 5 with Lisa Rogers who he seems to have taken a real shine to him having already appeared on ‘The Big Breakfast’ and the inexplicably awful ‘Frontal’ with him. Mel is looking at her options, but the cover of Marie Clare was probably a cool place to start. Nick is doing what I suppose we all expected and is appearing in as many interviews as possible to improve his profile Caggy has recorded a single and turned up to as many award shows as she can. Tom is almost modelling. Sada seems has already written a book about being a ‘woman’. Didn’t really doubt you were anything else there girl . . . eeeeeerrrrrrr . .
UPDATE! It’s now six months since our friends left the house and about time we assessed their real cultural impact now that the ultimate manufactured pop band has finally made the chart implode upon itself. Sada’s book on flirting was published. Andy is apparently bicycle touring Oz. Dear Caggy was last seen on daytime talk show ‘Esther’ and probably still trying to get that darn single released. Nicola’s singing career . . .well calling the Big Breakfast won’t do you any good luv. Nick appeared in his own late night game show ‘Trust Me’ which had the distinction of actually being quite good. Clare appeared in panto. Thomas is learning to be club DJ. Mel has her own Big Brother style show on E4. Darren became a UN rep for about three minutes. Anna is presumably fishing for projects (and with any look succeeding after her too professional showing on TFI Friday with a nervous Mel), appearing as a nun in Comic Relief, and slagging the whole Big Brother concept on Channel 4 shows about reality TV. Craig (errr) got a 5 album deal and has since released a charity record. Now seen most mornings tooling about a house in the ‘burbs with other strapping young men and Lowrie Turner . . .
UPDATE! It’s now almost a year since Big Brother One began, new series coming up, and all is quiet on the front of the ex-big brotherites. Most have disappeared back into relative obscurity, popping only now and then when reality tv is being question. Or introducing reality TV in the case of Mel’s ‘Chained’. Anna’s going to be presenting a new show soon with Davina McCall for the BBC Saturday night line-up. She inevitably seems to be the most visible, for as well as appearing on a Channel 4 documentary giving her representation on the show a pasting, she’s done stand-in nun work on the Comic Relief ‘Gimme Gimme Gimme’ special. Ah the CRBB – to be honest we thought of creating a page, but decided that it pretty much deconstructed itself, what with everyone’s endless TV reviews . . .
UPDATE! Tom and Clare. TOM AND CLARE?!?
UPDATE! Actually more of a greetings to anyone who’s visited the page from the Google Directory or one of the other Open Directory source. Hello. We know that if you’ve read this far down, our English is at least intelligible, especially considering that you’ve just read a bunch of things you already know.
UPDATE! This strangely popular page gets its first mention at an internet newsgroup, the UK BIG BROTHER Anna Nolan Club. Believe me the new version of this site has given us a better appreciation of how hard it is to create a website. But it’s always good to be a bit enigmatic sometimes . . .
UPDATE! Still no Big Brother Two page? We suspect writers elsewhere are doing a better job. There is a feeling with BB2 however that we are looking in on damaged good. The magic isn’t the same. There have been some fun moments, but overall the players seem to care that little bit too much about there public image. And how can Paul still be there?
UPDATE! “Nick stands in the corner looking at the floor.” Jon Ronson writes amazing article in The Guardian magazine.
The Cultural Tastes of the First Big Brother Eleven
The Big Brother house was a necessarily sterile place where cultural pursuits were kept to a minimum. But whether on purpose or through subtle manipulation the Big Brother Eleven became a microcosm of the current state of Popular and High culture in the UK. Don’t believe me? Lets take this one step at a time . .
A few weeks in, on the completion of a mini-task the group are given the chance of seeing any film. Any film at all, the entirety of film history available. The lads, predictably start suggesting horror films. Someone offers ‘that new film by Jim Carrey’ (which would have tested the resources of Brother Big, not exactly being out then) – until someone chimes in with ‘Happy Gilmore’, the Adam Sandler golf classic. A few votes and the suggestion is carried. Popular cinema selected over high brow – hmm – has anyone seen this week’s box office list? Later, we found an example of how the public tends to view television. Clamouring as they were for ‘East is East’, Big Brother decided that perhaps they would be more invigorated by the works of Bobby Davro, paralleling the attitude of the two main TV channels on a Saturday night. In other words, ‘We know you want to see something half decent, but we’ll put this on because you’ll probably watch it anyway . . .’ Born out by the fact that all of the housemates stay for the first episode on the tape, and after the girls went to bed, the boys viewed the other three, taking the attitude that watching anything is better than watching nothing at all.
The choice of house literature, although only glimpsed at, was also pretty significant, taking in many of the big sellers of the past few years – Thomas Harris, ‘Hannibal’ and the Chinese family epic ‘Wild Swans’ snubbing Seamus Heaney and the rest of his Whitbread colleagues.
Perhaps most interesting are the musical choices. Music is of course not usually allowed in the Big Brother house, the only comfort being Anna’s guitar, or what appears to be the soundtrack album, pumped into the house on Friday nights (loved on the first Friday ignored by the last). Understandably, music does not otherwise get mentioned. We’d find out that Craig loves the middle of the road delights of Rod Stewart and Phil Collins, which is probably the musical taste of ten percent of the viewing audience. Then, in the final few days, the remaining three housemates chose the record they would most like to hear after ten weeks without contact from the outside world. Craig decides his thing is ‘I was only joking’ by Rod Stewart, because it reminds him of being at school. Darren chooses the new version of ‘Good Life’ by Inner City, which reminds him of his kids dancing.. Now Anna. Anna, the lesbian ex-nun with a folksy guitar talent who one might expect to chime in with something acoustic chooses – ‘Together in Electric Dreams’ by Georgio Morodor with Phil Oakey. Oddly enough it kind of sticks out. A track which was created for a film that no one has seen since 1984. The least expected song from nowhere. Some personal resonance here. It’s in my top ten songs as well. And more often than not it has the same reaction for me as for her. She cried, her face awash with memories of club visits of the past and friends she’s missed, her housemates reaction underlining just how alone she feels. Probably the most touching moment of the entire series. Just a pity Craig spoilt the thing by laughing through it. If you can dig out the film, it’s worth it. A touching love triangle between a guy, his girl and a computer. It’s years ahead of its time. Think ‘Being John Malkovitch’ with Eighties production values.
UPDATE! In the aftermath of Big Brother, the Eleven have quietly been making a name for themselves in various corners of the media, but in ways no one would have predicted. Nicola releases a single, which reaches the heady heights of the low seventies in the charts. Anna appears in a catwalk show, and the promised folk singing career is nowhere to be seen (although she was good on TFI ). Craig doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself, although award shows, Ready Steady Cook, A Question Of Sport, and book signings is a start. Also signing is Clare who is also introducing a review programme about Clubs in the middle of the night. Darren is spending time with his kids. Andy co-‘presents’ an entertainment review show on Channel 5 with Lisa Rogers who he seems to have taken a real shine to him having already appeared on ‘The Big Breakfast’ and the inexplicably awful ‘Frontal’ with him. Mel is looking at her options, but the cover of Marie Clare was probably a cool place to start. Nick is doing what I suppose we all expected and is appearing in as many interviews as possible to improve his profile Caggy has recorded a single and turned up to as many award shows as she can. Tom is almost modelling. Sada seems has already written a book about being a ‘woman’. Didn’t really doubt you were anything else there girl . . . eeeeeerrrrrrr . .
UPDATE! It’s now six months since our friends left the house and about time we assessed their real cultural impact now that the ultimate manufactured pop band has finally made the chart implode upon itself. Sada’s book on flirting was published. Andy is apparently bicycle touring Oz. Dear Caggy was last seen on daytime talk show ‘Esther’ and probably still trying to get that darn single released. Nicola’s singing career . . .well calling the Big Breakfast won’t do you any good luv. Nick appeared in his own late night game show ‘Trust Me’ which had the distinction of actually being quite good. Clare appeared in panto. Thomas is learning to be club DJ. Mel has her own Big Brother style show on E4. Darren became a UN rep for about three minutes. Anna is presumably fishing for projects (and with any look succeeding after her too professional showing on TFI Friday with a nervous Mel), appearing as a nun in Comic Relief, and slagging the whole Big Brother concept on Channel 4 shows about reality TV. Craig (errr) got a 5 album deal and has since released a charity record. Now seen most mornings tooling about a house in the ‘burbs with other strapping young men and Lowrie Turner . . .
UPDATE! It’s now almost a year since Big Brother One began, new series coming up, and all is quiet on the front of the ex-big brotherites. Most have disappeared back into relative obscurity, popping only now and then when reality tv is being question. Or introducing reality TV in the case of Mel’s ‘Chained’. Anna’s going to be presenting a new show soon with Davina McCall for the BBC Saturday night line-up. She inevitably seems to be the most visible, for as well as appearing on a Channel 4 documentary giving her representation on the show a pasting, she’s done stand-in nun work on the Comic Relief ‘Gimme Gimme Gimme’ special. Ah the CRBB – to be honest we thought of creating a page, but decided that it pretty much deconstructed itself, what with everyone’s endless TV reviews . . .
UPDATE! Tom and Clare. TOM AND CLARE?!?
UPDATE! Actually more of a greetings to anyone who’s visited the page from the Google Directory or one of the other Open Directory source. Hello. We know that if you’ve read this far down, our English is at least intelligible, especially considering that you’ve just read a bunch of things you already know.
UPDATE! This strangely popular page gets its first mention at an internet newsgroup, the UK BIG BROTHER Anna Nolan Club. Believe me the new version of this site has given us a better appreciation of how hard it is to create a website. But it’s always good to be a bit enigmatic sometimes . . .
UPDATE! Still no Big Brother Two page? We suspect writers elsewhere are doing a better job. There is a feeling with BB2 however that we are looking in on damaged good. The magic isn’t the same. There have been some fun moments, but overall the players seem to care that little bit too much about there public image. And how can Paul still be there?
UPDATE! “Nick stands in the corner looking at the floor.” Jon Ronson writes amazing article in The Guardian magazine.
stifled by the restrictive legal process
Film One of the problems with the recent London Law & Order series was that although it was filmed in the UK, with British actors and was about the UK justice system with its wigs, the pacing of the material, shooting style and general structure constantly reminded the viewer that they were watching adaptations of older material, almost to the point that you could hear a hammer thumping away trying to flatten the script to work in a different context. The underrated Basic Instinct 2 similarly brought the Hollywood aesthetic to the streets of London, director Michael Caton-Jones offering his best Verhoven-alike.
I had much the same impression of The Paradine Case; that the story might have been served better by being set in the US; I appreciated that some of the point is about watching Gregory Peck’s lawyer slowly becoming stifled by the restrictive legal process, unable to right for wrong, unable to confirm when he needs to what evidence or witness statements he’ll have to deal when in court. And we might have been denied Charles Laughton’s delicious performance as the Judge, whose permanent expression of disgust ranging against anyone who doesn’t share his world view is, I’m sure, the image of what many people now expect some MPs to be like now that we know how they’ve been spending our money.
But compare Peck’s performance here with his tour-de-force as Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird. Granted the material in the later film is more electric and relevant and the overall approach is towards creating a work of prestige, whereas Hitch as ever is more interested in entertainment, yet his actor looks uncomfortable; Hitch himself says to Trauffaut in no uncertain terms: “I don’t think that Gregory Peck can properly represent an English lawyer” he wanted Lawrence Olivier or Ronald Coleman. But the production had been rewritten by his then producer David O. Selznick and he had his own ideas about who should cast to say his words and so, like many of his earlier British silents, he was working with elements that were not of his choosing.
Perhaps the curious sense of dislocation also from the film actually having been shot in the US with Selznick rewriting the script in the UK and sending the pages to Hitchcock who was meant to try his best with them. I had assumed it was the other way around. The directors says he lost track of the shape of the piece. He’s talked about how he was never entirely sure how the original murder was committed, the geography of the house, and that is confusing, though I did think whilst watching that this was a deliberate choice to show how our memory can play tricks and reshape events to fit our point of view. Now and then, I wonder if Hitch was adding layers to his work that even he wasn’t aware of.
links for 2009-07-22
Liverpool to Manchester in thirty minutes. Blimey.
The US has its @stephenfry & @wossy moment.
How the other hemisphere lives.
"I had quite a difficult slot – it was 0200 to 0300 on Sunday 19th. So there was a sizable crowd in Trafalgar Square who were not terribly sober… they wanted to be entertained (is everything Britain's Got Talent?). I knew that the weekend night slots were likely to be more difficult but when you are allocated a slot your only option is to accept it or refuse it – there is no chance of swapping it. So I had decided to do it. A family member had said that the evening weekend slots were "skittles for drunks", and so it partly proved."
Very sorry to hear this. Good luck everyone.
I was waiting for this. Hadley Freeman (who I love) on the new look. She's wrong sadly. She's condemning the man rather than his suit, because he's not David Tennant (who she loves). Best comment underneath? "That's in fashion this season? Really? Everyone round here's wearing jeans and t-shirt."
.. and without the beard and hair (and I hope he dioesn't mind me saying this) looks exactly (almost) like he did at school.
Frankie, do you remember me?
Is that before or after he died? #torchwood
It's Doctor Who Blog and Message-Board BINGO! (I may have written myself into all four corners)
"Enhanced her voice may be, but on the one song she actually begins singing, "Tonight I Celebrate My Love," she has trouble pronouncing the word celebrate which was strange, considering her background."
Whilst I cast about trying to decide what to put in the regular weekend Spotify spot here's a fantastic set of links which demonstrates that no matter how deep you think you've reached into the catalogue there's always something you've missed. Is it wrong that I like the album of Britney covers so much? (Yes.)
The late king of pop recreated in potatoes and tomatoes. See also a cauliflower sheep and a penguin made from aubergine.
Good article, though it fails to mention that the whole Blair Witch project was killed stone dead by Blair Witch 2 which committed the sin of not taking its own premise seriously.
I still have the promo DVD this appeared on — it was given away with the first issue of DVD Review. I wish I was still this excited about them and less suspicious of Blu-Ray. It can't be that much better can it?
The final line in this article is probably why I send myself on these quests.
links for 2009-07-21
My God! It's full of stars!
Not a spoof trailer. Actual film. Actually eighty odd minutes long. Looks like it was shot for thripence.
paying money to enter a Hieronymus Bosch painting
Life One of my least favourite pastimes is grumbling about local transport in Liverpool. There’s never enough buses on the routes I need and the experience of riding on them is like paying money to enter a Hieronymus Bosch painting on wheels with the screams of hell replaced by the sounds of 50 Cent being pumped from a mobile phone speaker (though that’s much the same thing).
No such problems in Stratford. Because there are (basically) no buses. On the one hand I should be very pleased that the town isn't jammed up with Stagecoaches oddly competing with one another for business, but I was still cursing when I looked at the timetables and noticed that the irregular timings of some of the services, many of which visited just three times in an hour, and all in the last half of that hour and even then not at times when you'd actually want them, like after six o’clock in the evening.
The trains are equally improbable: on the Wednesday, visiting Mary Arden’s Farm, I took the train to Wilmcote, one stop out of Stratford, about a ten minute ride. In that ad-hoc way you when you're on holiday, I checked the timetable when I got there to see when the next train back would be. 5 o’clock. It was 10 o’clock.
Stepping out of the station wondering whether there would be enough to do that afternoon, a friendly lady with a very nice car (who for image purposes looked like Emmerdale’s Patsy Kensit) asked if I was alright. Registering my surprise about the train service, I asked her if there was a quicker way back, a bus perhaps. She looked stunned by the suggestion, and wondered if I’d considered walking. I looked at my poor feet and they seemed to look back at me, throbbing with rage.
I'm such a city dweller. And I'll try not to complain about Merseytravel again.
The only way to get around then, if you don't drive, is either taxi of the City Sightseer red bus tour which is how I got back to the town centre after finishing at the farm. These are usually very good indeed, especially if there’s a live commentary. The best I've heard was in Belfast, were, once the guide had pointed out were all of the secret British listening posts were, went on to say some not very nice things about some of the not very nice people who lived in the province especially in relation to a recent bank robbery and I genuinely became fearful not just for his life but our own. History tour and thrill ride rolled into one.
Not this day. Instead, we were given earphones and asked to plug into the pre-recorded service and far from being a ‘tour’ this amounted to random facts about Shakespeare’s life interspersed with incongruous burst of musak, of the kind which you’d find on those cassettes that were given away with new hi-fi’s to show off what they could do. Said facts, read with bored indifference by an actor were generally interesting, if sometimes rather oblique. Passing through countryside, wind blasting me in the face (open top), after a burst of synthesiser, the actor piped up: “To your right are the Cotsworlds.” Pictured. And that was, I think that.
Doctor Who Discovers Pond Life
TV Quick round up of the day's news. Firstly, Ben Cook and Lizo Mzimba on BBC Breakfast offering a first reaction to Matt Smith's new costume:
[video removed from YouTube]
The official BBC site has coverage but is admittedly trumped by the Daily Fail who have the more iconic shots you might have expected, including one of the Doctor and Amy and the TARDIS which looks brandlipsmakingspanking new and blue and seems to have regained some of its 60s iconography. Pity the windows are still the wrong size. The Guardian also has some rather good commentary, spotting a Press Gang connection. The Times has quotes.
As we've seen in the past, choosing the Doctor's image is a sonic screwdriver dodging minefield. Get it right and you have something fans will be beating down the door of the local Slaters or Greenwoods trying to recreate; get it wrong and your lead actor will spend his term on the show wearing what amounts to Test Card H or the kind of cricket jacket which still manages to look out of place on a cricket field.
I think this is a very well considered choice. With Matt, the temptation might have been to go with a far more casual appearance, something akin to what he was wearing in his first publicity shots, the jacket and t-shirt. This is braver, a kind of old school teacher or 40s newspaperman or indeed scientist, slightly incongruous, underscoring the idea of an ancient mind in a younger body and a nice contrast to Karen's rather more contemporary look.
The other news today was of course the reveal of companion Amy's surname. Pond. Amy Pond. Let that roll about in your mouth for a bit. It's the kind of name the 10th Doctor would relish saying, stressing the surname to its full stressablity. It doesn't tell us an awful lot about the character other than, contrary to what the conspiracy theorists had in mind that she's not Donna regenerated or Romana (their way of explaining why the name hadn't been sent out yet).
It's simply that The Grand Moff and the gang want to keep something back at such an early point in their new era. Like this (if you reeeally want to be spoiled). Exciting isn't it?
[video removed from YouTube]
The official BBC site has coverage but is admittedly trumped by the Daily Fail who have the more iconic shots you might have expected, including one of the Doctor and Amy and the TARDIS which looks brandlipsmakingspanking new and blue and seems to have regained some of its 60s iconography. Pity the windows are still the wrong size. The Guardian also has some rather good commentary, spotting a Press Gang connection. The Times has quotes.
As we've seen in the past, choosing the Doctor's image is a sonic screwdriver dodging minefield. Get it right and you have something fans will be beating down the door of the local Slaters or Greenwoods trying to recreate; get it wrong and your lead actor will spend his term on the show wearing what amounts to Test Card H or the kind of cricket jacket which still manages to look out of place on a cricket field.
I think this is a very well considered choice. With Matt, the temptation might have been to go with a far more casual appearance, something akin to what he was wearing in his first publicity shots, the jacket and t-shirt. This is braver, a kind of old school teacher or 40s newspaperman or indeed scientist, slightly incongruous, underscoring the idea of an ancient mind in a younger body and a nice contrast to Karen's rather more contemporary look.
The other news today was of course the reveal of companion Amy's surname. Pond. Amy Pond. Let that roll about in your mouth for a bit. It's the kind of name the 10th Doctor would relish saying, stressing the surname to its full stressablity. It doesn't tell us an awful lot about the character other than, contrary to what the conspiracy theorists had in mind that she's not Donna regenerated or Romana (their way of explaining why the name hadn't been sent out yet).
It's simply that The Grand Moff and the gang want to keep something back at such an early point in their new era. Like this (if you reeeally want to be spoiled). Exciting isn't it?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)