Big respect

Watching Made In Dagenham on the idiot box last night reminded me both of how far we have come, how far we still have to go and how much we have got to lose if with give in to the TBS that run this country.

 

When equal pay for women was introduced (by a Labour government) the scare mongers and lackeys for the wealthy TBS claimed that 1000s of jobs would be lost. Of course that didn’t happen. Then when the minimum wage was introduced, along with implementing the social chapters (by Tony Blair’s government) the TBS and their hangers on claimed the same again; massive job losses as a result. It never happened. And neither will it happen when the living wage is finally introduced. What the greedy Tory Bastard Scum won’t accept is that if you treat workers with respect and reward them well productivity goes up. What they also don’t want to accept is that if people were at least paid a living wage it would remove so many from welfare. It’s a disingenuous myth that most benefit claimants are either unemployed or immigrants. It just isn’t true. The majority of benefit claimants are hard working people who work for bosses that are too fucking tight and exploitative to pay them a decent wage. That’s why the welfare bill is so high. We, the tax payer (which is all of us incidentally) are subsidising private industry big time!

 

One of the most successful economies in the world, Germany, pays some of the highest average wage rates. If they can do it so can we. Wake up Britain and stop believing the nonsense that the TBS and their snidey newspaper and television mates tell you. Now!

May I have your autograph please?

I’m never likely to be famous and quite frankly I have no desire to be so. I write this blog mainly for my own amazement and for anyone that happens to come across it. It’s nice when others read it but I see that as a bonus and not something I work very hard to encourage. So if I ever have the misfortune to become famous please be warned. I will not be signing autographs.

We have this strange class of people in this country, mainly driven by cheap ’n’ nasty television and the tabloids, which are famous for being famous. The celebrity is a curious and pointless phenomenon; talentless and yet famous. Pawns in a lucrative latter-day freak show. In my adult life I’ve never asked for anyone autograph and it is something that I don’t think I’ll ever do. I’ve been to concerts where at the end or in the interval the performer will be at the ‘product’ stall signing cds books etc. I’ve even made purchases on odd occasions. But I’ve never ever been tempted to have them signed. I’m not big on hero worship and can never see the point of an autograph. What does it do?

I suppose my unswerving belief that we are all equal kicks in and yes certain people might be very talented, artistic and/or clever having interesting things to say, sing or display but it doesn’t put them above the rest. We are all mere humans; flesh, blood and brains. No more, no less. I don’t acknowledge pedestals. It is why I can never see the point of awards or honours, and why I’m a republican. We are of equal value.

 

Confession corner

I own an unsolicited photo of The Smiths, signed by Morrissey. I wrote to him in the early days of The Smiths, no idea why. He wrote back and enclosed the photo. I hang on to it. Again I don’t know why. Perhaps I should shred it.

Crazy Oscar

I don't really hold with awards for art. In reality they can only ever be subjective. But that said I was still pleased to hear that Jeff Bridges received a much deserved Oscar last night. As it happens we went to see Crazy Heart yesterday evening and came away having enjoyed it immensely. Since the Big Lebowski I've long thought Jeff bridges to be a great but under recognised actor. So it’s good that he has finally been acknowledged for that talent. Crazy Heart is a wonderfully gritty, amusing and sad film. It charts the travels of one Bad Blake, a down on his luck country blues singer songwriter who lives on the road and out of a bottle. He lives the life of the archetypal little known troubadour a life of seedy motels, casual sex and fast food. He’s on the slow road to oblivion when he pulls up at the crossroads of opportunity. The potential catalyst for his redemption is a young female journalist. I won't spoil the film for you if you've not seen it but shall we say that it ends in a way that lends itself to bitter sweet.

Unfortunately not everyone saw through the emperor’s new clothes that is Avatar and the film received three Oscars. Special effects and no substance is not a good recipe for a film. You might be able to fool large amounts of people with hype, smoke and mirrors. But you can't fool everybody!

Oil City Slickers

I had so been looking forward to Julian Temple’s film Oil City Confidential. I had been looking forward to it since I heard about it on Radcliffe & Maconie last year. It was screened, nationwide, Tuesday night, followed by a live concert from Koko in London beamed to the cinemas showing the film. I was not disappointed.


Dr Feelgood were very much the unsung heroes of British music. They paved the way for punk, but they were more than that. In the early 1970s they looked different, they sounded different and oh boy were they excitingly different. I could just not believe Wilko Johnson, the frenetic and mesmerizingly manic lead guitarist of the distant stare. How could anyone play the guitar that well and move up and down the stage at such speed? The combination of Wilko’s guitar sound coupled with front man vocalist and harp player Lee Brilleaux made it a winning formula. Dr Feelgood were pure unadulterated R&B. That’s real R&B of course, and all played at a pace.


Julian Temple films tend to be a bit oddball and Oil City Confidential is no exception. I don’t say that in a derogatory way. I like his style. The film is basically a surrealist documentary. Parts of it reminded me of early Old Grey Whistle Tests. Not for the musical content but the stripped down presentation and the edited in ageing film clips. The film is as much a celebration of Canvey Island as it is the Feelgoods. It charts their lives from childhood up to Lee’s demise. This informative film is a must for any lover of British popular music. There are interviews with all the band members, music colleagues, family, friends and fans, some from archives obviously, but many made for the film. Anchor man in the film is the enigmatic Wilko, although there were sizeable contributions of some of the other Feelgoods. The film left me feeling very sorry for Wilko. Not 100% sure why, but he did come across as a lonely and troubled individual. Not sure if that’s just a facade for blues authenticity or the genuine man.

 

The film finished and we were told that there would be a twenty minute break. I nipped out for that all important toilet break, much needed on a middle-aged bladder and after a two hour film. Some poor folk took the announcement at its word and probably nipped out to the pub. I say poor folk because the concert started not much later than 5 minutes after the film. It had already started when I returned to my seat, but only just. Wilko was giving it what for on his guitar. Early in the concert, and for three songs, he was joined on stage by Alison Moyet who is now a slim vision of loveliness, but can still add weight in the vocal department. Also on stage was a pretty mean harmonica player. A giant of a man who looked vaguely familiar but at first I couldn’t place him. The first name that came into my head was Charles Shaar Murray, but I kept thinking, ‘Surely not’. Surely not, but it actually was Charlie boy. It was a great concert of Dr Feelgood songs and R&B classics that I wished had gone on longer. The only constructive comment I have to offer is that Wilko should make use of guest singers. He’s a great guitarist, but his vocal style, reminiscent of Pete Townsend’s, is not powerful enough to do justice to many of his songs, but full marks to him for giving it a damned good go.


Tuesday was truly a fantastic music evening!

Up In The Air

In the middle of last week I went to see ‘Sex and Drugs and Rock and Roll‘ at the pictures. An extremely well acted film about Ian Dury. Unfortunately I started to feel ill about half way through the film. I began to sweat and feel sick, but with true British pluck I removed my jumper, gritted my teeth at carried on watching. I was apparently as white as a sheet when we left at the end of the film. As a consequence I have felt unable to write about it apart from saying that it’s a good film, the music is great, it has some damned fine acting in it, go and see it!


I suspect it was just a bug I’d picked up or something I had eaten, but it was therefore with some trepidation that we returned to the cinema last night to see ‘Up In The Air‘. ‘Up In The Air’ is an amusing ‘RomCom’ starring George Clooney. It has somewhat ambiguous undertones that render it open to all manner of interpretations. Clooney plays a business man, Ryan Bingham, who spends virtually all of his year travelling the length and breadth of America for his job. Much of his time is spent flying, which is from where the film derives its title. He is a man with very few possessions who has developed a slick and efficient lifestyle to deal with the constant travelling. With very few ties he is happy with his lot (or so he thinks), to the point that he gives motivational talks about a life without ‘excess baggage’ preaching what he practices. All is going well with his world until two ladies enter his life and throw him off course in different ways. Clooney’s character is employed to visit businesses and sack people, or make them redundant. This is where the ambiguities kick in. Apparently some of those playing the bit parts of those losing their jobs had actually been in that situation. Is it right to ‘use’ people like this? Is it right to laugh at what is a sad and all too relevant situation? Is the film critical of the process? Is it overly critical of his lifestyle?


The film is most definitely a commentary on the recent financial unpleasantness. I think it is criticising the faceless way that American business deals with people as a commodity rather than living beings. Hiring and firing on an economical whim. Thank goodness I live in the EU. Other people could well see the film differently. Whilst I wouldn’t like a lifestyle like Ryan Bingham’s I must confess to wishing that my life was a little more uncluttered than it is. Perhaps one day!

Nowhere Boy

Boxing Day saw us toddle of to the pictures to see Nowhere Boy, a film essentially about John Lennon’s teenage years up to the time he leaves Liverpool for Hamburg. The film charts his emotionally tumultuous upbringing abandoned by his mother, Julia, brought up by her sister, his Aunt Mimi, being reunited with his mother for a short while until her death, and his musical upbringing. It is I suspect a fine line between success and failure when you come from such a background.


The film charts the early beginnings of his musical career. His first meeting with Paul, there subsequent friendship, and then George joining the band are most definitely covered but a lot of the other musical history is a bit vague. Director Sam Taylor-Wood, in this her debut feature, concentrates on the 'tug of love’ battle between Mimi (played by the delicious Kristin Scott Thomas) and Julia (played by Anne-Marie Duff), giving a flavour of the musical history rather than it been centre stage.

All in all it’s a bloody good film, and a must see for Lennon aficionados, but don’t go expecting to see a Beatles documentary!


If I have one complaint there was no mention of Strawberry Fields.

The Men Who Stare At Goats

If you read my previous post it will not come as a surprise to learn that in my opinion nothing good ever comes of war. This I believe to be a fact. But war, like so many other terrible events in this world has the ability to ‘inspire’ art. Art invariably warns of and protests against the horror and futility of war. Art is basically the anti-war. Any war that the USA is involved in is always guaranteed to generate protest films. The film I went to the pictures to see the other night was one such film.

The Men Who Stare At Goats is a very funny film, starring Ewan MacGregor, Jeff Bridges, George Clooney and Kevin Spacey. A film about the military, and in particular that well known military oxymoron ‘American intelligence’. The film points out the ridiculous lengths to which military madmen will go to try and get one over on the enemy. The film is based on a book by Ron Jonson, so straight away it has a pedigree, and right from the opening scenes it makes you laugh. It is probably the funniest film I’ve seen this year. It charts the investigation by a journalist of a top secret army corps of ‘psychic soldiers’ and whilst it is utter nonsense at the same time you suspect something like it could well exist or have existed. The title comes from an episode in the film when the most gifted psychic uses his powers for evil and kills a goat by staring at it.

This is a most excellent and funny film on so many levels, with performances from four great actors. It is unquestionably a must watch for all but the moribund!

Dean Spanley

Dean Spanley is a delightful film. It is truly one of the best films I've seen in a long time. Last night we sat in Cinema City, transfixed and transported into this marvellous film. It was a most enjoyable evening.

You would imagine that a film based around the notion of re-incarnation would not be a barrel of laughs, but how wrong you would be. This joint New Zealand/British production has a weighty cast headed up by Peter O'Toole. You just can't go wrong with an actor of O'Toole's stature. The man has you entranced, metaphorically filling the whole screen with his presence. This giant can act just with his eyes. Add to that a great performance from the antipodean thespian Bryan Brown, someone who deserves greater international acclaim, and you have yourself a film not to be missed.

I suspect that this film is the sort that is not going to be widely accessible. That's to say that it will be a rare commodity in large cinema chains and smaller towns. That is a shame as it is infinitely better than any Hollywood offering, and at the same time could easily be appreciated by the masses.

Set in England, just after the Boer War, its two main themes are dogs and re-incarnation. I loathe dogs and dismiss re-incarnation as mumbo jumbo (or mumble jumble as Peter O'Toole says in the film), but despite that the film does not suffer one jot.

This is a thoroughly enchanting, very funny and touching film, which I commend you to watch given the opportunity.

Burn After Reading

We finally got to go to the arts cinema, Cinema City, in Norwich the night before last and it was a pretty good experience.

 

We went to see Burn After Reading, the latest Coen Brothers film starring George Clooney and the enigmatic John Malkovich. I don’t think it was quite as good as No Country For Old Men and it certainly wasn’t quite as blood-thirsty but a good film all the same. There are some people that would claim that ‘American Intelligence’ is an oxymoron and having known someone that worked ‘in intelligence’ for the USAF I would subscribe to that view wholeheartedly. The film’s blurb claims that ‘Intelligence is relative’ and the film starts with John Malkovich’s character being ‘offered’ a demotion within the CIA. The demotion is brought about due to his alleged ‘drink problem’. There’s a great riposte from John’s character at this point when he says to his accuser, “you’re a Mormon. Against you everybody has a drink problem!”

In Cinema City you don’t have a drink problem as you can take your drink in with you.

The film revolves mainly around Clooney and Malkovich who could well be described as ‘rivals in love’, but as with all good Coen Brothers films there are several plots and sub-plots intertwined. It’s an amusing film with some well written comic moments, and of course there are the surprises, their stock in trade.

I’d recommend going to see it if it comes to a cinema near you. If you’ve never seen a Coen Brothers film it’s about time you did!

No country for any men

I went to the pictures last night to see the latest Coen brother’s film, No Country For Old Men. If you are planning to go to and see it I’ll try not to spoil it for you, apart from to say that I think it has the highest body count of any of their films. If you’ve seen any of their films, apart from Oh Brother Where Art Thou, you’ll know that slaughter is their ‘stock in trade’. Tommy Lee Jones plays a blinding role, as he always does; Fantastic actor. And they have excelled themselves with the guy that could well be described as the main character; Joel and Ethan seem to celebrate the odd looking people of this world, and they have triumphed again with this ‘gink’ played by Javier Bardem. There is also a rather strange part played by Woody Harrelson.

Javier Bardem

All in all it’s a great film; A romp in blood and guts, so to speak. As long as you are not too squeamish I’d recommend you go and see it. At just over two hours it’s a marathon, but you’ll never get bored as whenever you think you know what is coming next you will invariably be proved wrong. Expect the unexpected.