Fucking, boring.
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Factual TV programmes abound. From economics to art, from astronomy to natural history – there is no shortage of documentaries to educate and entertain for the price of a TV licence. I like learning about science and technology. Tomorrow’s World was a weekly favourite, although thirty five years later tomorrow has truly been and gone and we’re still waiting for most of the products featured in prototype on that programme.
… more → Right from the opening credits – with a throbbing Led Zeppelin (cover) soundtrack – you know you are watching a well-crafted film. Such a good start meant that I was able to relax, settle into my seat and prepare to immerse myself in the cinematic experience. I admit that this trance was briefly disturbed early on when Daniel Craig asks for a specific brand of cigarettes. I hoped that such product placement wouldn’t be peppered intrusively throughout. Thankfully it wasn’t – apart from
… more → I hugely enjoyed Terence Davies’ Of Time and the City but his latest nostalgia-fest is a curate’s egg. Davies creates rich, sepia scenes of ’50′s Britain at least as evocative and depressing as those in 10 Rillington Place. Rachel Weisz does an outstanding job – in more than one sense. For whilst her performance is convincing as the camera lingers on her beautiful tortured expression, the film’s backdrop is an array of caricatures sprinkled with scenes of ludicrous sentimentality with an often intrusive soundtrack. I’m thinking of the sing-song in the boozer, and the London underground during the Blitz both of which are almost pastiche. Weisz’s lover is supposed to be a self-centred cad, but is too one-dimensional to be either a convincing villain or the object of her lust. Simon Russell Beale has a better time of it as the pained and repressed cuckold. North American manglers of the English language have long since adopted the phrase ‘different than’ but I notice that more and more speakers of British English are saying ‘different to’. When comparing things, we are deciding if they differ from each other. Not to or than each other. Not sure what to get for that special person? Thinking of gift vouchers? Wait! Why not just give them the money, and simply tell them which shop to spend it in. When I was growing up, there was only one phone in our household … Well, I could go on. But who would believe me? If I went on to describe it as weighing two and a half kilos, wired in, and rented to us by the State-owned post and telephone monopoly people would think I was making it up. So I won’t mention that it didn’t even have a screen, for that would be unimaginable. + - I had never been to Waterside Arts Centre, Sale until last Saturday. On a dark drizzly October evening it’s a sterile sort of place – like an up-market community centre. The clientele were well-groomed theatregoing types. We didn’t fill the auditorium either, so the compere had to work especially hard to warm us all up for the four stand-up comedy acts which followed. The first three were amusing, but the headline act Steve Shanyaski possesses a star quality which had me wheezing with uncontrolled laughter. He’s talented, insightful, self-assured, and definitely worth seeking out. Just remember your inhaler. London’s National Theatre went international last night for a live screening of One Man, Two Guvnors. Manchester’s Cornerhouse joined cinemas in Canada, New Zealand, Estonia, South Africa, Iceland and many other countries in charging people to sit and watch a play being performed somewhere else. Strange idea in the 21st century, really. Television broadcast by satellite from the other side of the globe has become commonplace. So what was it like paying £15 to watch something that wasn’t quite a film, and wasn’t quite like being at a live performance? It did feel a bit detached – almost voyeuristic. We in Manchester were witnessing something, more than directly engaging in the performance. The audience in London applauded but we did not. There was raucous laughter at the NT – and a few muffled guffaws in Manchester. We had a better view than those in the theatre’s cheap seats. The camerawork was sophisticated, mixing close-ups with wide angle views and audience shots. It was not just a static projection of the entire stage as I had feared it might be. We also got a backstage tour in the interval, conducted by Emma Freud. And what of the play itself? A five-star performance from the truly talented James Corden, supported by a very strong cast – including a skiffle band. It’s a farce based on Goldoni’s Servant of Two Masters written in 1743, brought up-to-date (actually to 1963) by Richard Bean. The script is sparkling, the slapstick comedy timed to perfection. I’m really glad I went, and just a bit sorry that I didn’t clap at the end. It transfers to the Adelphi Theatre in London’s West End from 8 November, with the original cast. Go and see it! |
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