The Barking Dog
Look ma! I'm a food critic! No, but seriously.. the Barking Dog, great place, great food.
In the nature of my vagabound ways, I'm only home about half of the year. As many of you know, I spend the rest of the time trying to survive in the streets of Barcelona or more recently, teaching Spanish students some sort of strange language I like to call English. As a result, what time I spend with my mother on a one to one basis is appreciated for the both of us, which means a nice meal on those rare occasions we're not tied up attending to other things. Originally we planned to go to Made in Belfast, since we appreciate its deliberately tacky/eccentric decor and the controversy causing naked lady art which act as an utter insult to the good taste of the fun hating Presbos, however a quick google of "Made in Belfast restaurant review" yielded only negative reports of its cuisine. A comment on the Guardian review suggested a number of places, one being one of Belfast's few Gastro restaraunts, "The Barking Dog". A second google search gave me the positive feedback I needed to decide that this so called dog would be the very place that our three courses would be so delightfully consumed.
And what a dog it is.
Located on the lower part of the Malone Road, the restaurant is decorated in a classy but unpretentious rustic fashion. Having made no reservation we weren't given exactly the best table in the building. Its round shape made it a little bit tricky to get our legs under one hundred percent but a pint of the home brew meant I quickly forgot about this minor indescretion. It's a pretty flavoursome Belfast lager, maybe not as crisp as I'd hope for in a pre-dinner pint but it seemed to pack a bigger punch than I was preparing for, quickly illustrated by my sudden lack of vocal volume control a mere quarter of an hour after I sat down. The candle lit interior had a fairly lively atmosphere punctuated by a series of very animated waiters. The gesticulation of the head waiter led me to believe that in the best possible sense he might have been a little bit wired - not necessarily a bad thing; a little bit of free entertainment doesn't go amiss and to his credit he upsold the menu items like some sort of Egyptian God of second hand car salesmen. The menu was quite well presented, in a readable but original font listing six or so items for each course which is in my eyes, just enough to appease every taste without clouding a customer's judgement with a barrage of over variety. There was nothing on the menu that came as a particular suprise for a standard gastro restaraunt. Lamb, steak, pork, chicken were the obvious options for the carniverous customer, whilst a pescatarian could opt for hake, fish pie (don't put that into google) and scampi. The usual linguini or risotto could be selected by more discerning vegetarians. I opted for a starter of potted chicken, garnished with probably the most perfect colseslaw I've ever tasted.. and the most ungodly tasty toast. My mum opted for the special - a carpaccio of beef with salad. In her words, this was probably the most delicious starter she had ever eaten. When it comes to food reviews, my mum doesn't deal in hyperbole. Take from that what you will. No suprise in saying the starter plates returned to their point of origin completely bare.
From a reviewer's perespective the gap between starter and main course was a good bit longer than optimal but it gave us a good chance to enjoy the simple but pleasant Chilean merlot and gas about everything in life. By the time the gap was over we were ready to get stuck into our plato segundo. In a restaraunt like this, I'm a sucker for rump of lamb - the idea of its taste is impossible to shift from my head once I get it stuck in my head. This time though, the lamb exceeded expectations - it was the medium rare that all future medium rare rumps should be cooked to the standard of, beautifully crispy on the outside, salivatingly pink on the inside. Five spices gave an uplifting kick to the juicey meat sauce, differentiating it from the norm This was complemented by a pee and bacon puree and a gorgeously layered creamed potato. My mother's only one complaint about her fantastic plate of scampi was that it was a little bit too peppery and shift the pepper/lemon ratio slightly in favour of lemon you'd have again, a perfect dish. After seeing that it was only just after nine, we decided to make a rare venture into the realm of deserts. I convinced my mum to opt for a rice pudding with a balanced garnish of caramalized pineapple and mint cream over her usual choice of creme brulee, a decision she did not regret. I on the other hand, took the advise of the waiter and opted in favour of chocolatte assiette, which was a lot more subtle than I originally suspected from the menu's description. Feeling decisively indulgent we finished the meal with a cappucino and an americano. I can't complain too much about my cappucino but the beans in my mother's americano were definitely a little bit burned. When I'm not influenced by the grape or the grain, I tend to be a bit more of a coffee snob, a testament to the barista training I received prior to starting my employment in the MAC. The bill including tip totalled just under £90; fairly typical for restaurant of this caliber and fairly reasonable when you compare it to other establishments that from what I gather appear to provide a poorer standard of cuisine and service. Ahem *MADEINBELFAST* Ahem.
Now go get your feed on.
Thursday, September 06, 2012
Wednesday, September 05, 2012
A Few Best Men
A Few Best Men
- A few mediocre at best men more like it
My friends and I had originally geared ourselves up for the high octane, cheap-thrill-heavy Expendables 2 but after failing to get tickets we opted to buy tickets for this Australian/British Hangover style comedy we opted to the the bar to have a second pint in the interim period. Maybe rather than enhancing my enjoyment of the film, the Hoegaarden numbed my funny bone but when you're not expecting too much, you're not likely to be disappointed. Truth be told, I hadn't heard much at all about A Few Best Men before I went and saw it. I couldn't have told you who was in it and after reading the cast list on the cinema "What's showing" pamphlett, I still couldn't have told you any of the films the stars had previously appeared in. With the exception of Kris Marshall, famous for playing a man-boy-child character in long running, largely inoffensive BBC sitcom My Family and appearing in BT adverts for the last dacade, there was no-one in the film who registered more than "I think I recognize that guy, but from where". Only by cheating and looking on www.imdb.com have I been able to ascertain that Kevin Bishop was in Grange Hill and had his own show that ran for two series on Channel 4 and the long suffering groom was played by Xavier Samuel, who apparently appeared in some Twilight sequel which I have never seen because I have some vague sense of self respect.
That's not to say any of the cast were particularly bad but by and large the acting standards ranged from at best "quite good" to at worst "a little bit bland". Marshall continues his streak of playing immature, old-enough-to-know-better batchelor characters, whilst Bishop plays a Woody Allen/Mort Goldman style neurotic bumbler (ironically with a Hitler moustache). Laura Brent and Xavier Samuel do the best with the script that they're given, acting as likable but largely forgettable protagonists in a film that seems to opt to be just that: amiable but unexceptional. Perhaps credit is most due to Olivia Newton-John for playing out of control mother of the bride, acting as the leftist opposite to her on screen, politically right husband. On the political note, the whole film was suprisingly left with both soft and hard drugs being used with only minor consequences for the characters and hilarity ensuing from said consequences.
Hilarity as a whole though, didn't really ensue. Comparisons between this film and the Hangover will inevitably be drawn and the producers were obviously trying to draw in the same crowd, however whilst the Hangover was fresh and strangely satisfying, more or less everything in this Aussie/Brit clone has been done before - the groom's party wake up to find an animal wandering about their rooms, they have shenanigans with their crazy drug dealer and ultimately are charged with the task of rectifying all of their mistakes. The thing that annoys me about both of these films is that none of the characters ever seem to actually suffer from a hangover. At no point in this film did any of the main characters complain about having a pounding headache, dizzyness, nausea (aside from a character who downs three bottles of champagne on the day of the wedding) or even "The Fear". I would love to see some character get the 5 O'Clock in the afternoon of the next day paranoia spells I get from a heavy night. Seriously, just once I'd like to see a character appear jittery, sweaty and nervous as they try to contemplate the purpose of their existence whilst trying to "get their shit together." Instead they run around having their hijinx to some increasingly bland quirky Australian ska covers of existing songs, often mixing it up with close up shots of the spanking blonde wedding singer as if the director wanted to launch her to musical stardom through this film.
The film's biggest flaw is its predictability. It starts with a shallow sentimental "I love you moment" between the two lovers and more or less ends with the same moment. You could yell at me for saying that's a spoiler but the film is shot in such a way that nothing other than the last fourty seconds pre-credits act as a suprise. The slapstick jokes are so often delivered as "visual set up", delay, "visual punchline", with the punchlines very rarely being anything other than exactly what you expected it to be. For me this meant the laugh factor was much lower than it ultimately could have been. Whilst I could hear a lot of laughs from the rest of the audience, the four of us watching were compartively silent, I can only presume they were the twenty or so people in the western hemisphere who haven't seen the Hangover.
The bottom line is that this film is just too average to buy a cinema ticket on any other day than a £3.00 Tuesday or whatever your local cinema's variant is. It'll be better suited for those nights where you and your boyfriend/girlfriend/spouse/moose/wookiee are tired after a long week of work, want to stay in rent a movie and fall asleep on the couch three quarters of the way through. Despite the odd moment of gross out comedy involving a sheep's rectum, this is inoffensive old hat, not without its charms but not exactly full of them either.
- A few mediocre at best men more like it
My friends and I had originally geared ourselves up for the high octane, cheap-thrill-heavy Expendables 2 but after failing to get tickets we opted to buy tickets for this Australian/British Hangover style comedy we opted to the the bar to have a second pint in the interim period. Maybe rather than enhancing my enjoyment of the film, the Hoegaarden numbed my funny bone but when you're not expecting too much, you're not likely to be disappointed. Truth be told, I hadn't heard much at all about A Few Best Men before I went and saw it. I couldn't have told you who was in it and after reading the cast list on the cinema "What's showing" pamphlett, I still couldn't have told you any of the films the stars had previously appeared in. With the exception of Kris Marshall, famous for playing a man-boy-child character in long running, largely inoffensive BBC sitcom My Family and appearing in BT adverts for the last dacade, there was no-one in the film who registered more than "I think I recognize that guy, but from where". Only by cheating and looking on www.imdb.com have I been able to ascertain that Kevin Bishop was in Grange Hill and had his own show that ran for two series on Channel 4 and the long suffering groom was played by Xavier Samuel, who apparently appeared in some Twilight sequel which I have never seen because I have some vague sense of self respect.
That's not to say any of the cast were particularly bad but by and large the acting standards ranged from at best "quite good" to at worst "a little bit bland". Marshall continues his streak of playing immature, old-enough-to-know-better batchelor characters, whilst Bishop plays a Woody Allen/Mort Goldman style neurotic bumbler (ironically with a Hitler moustache). Laura Brent and Xavier Samuel do the best with the script that they're given, acting as likable but largely forgettable protagonists in a film that seems to opt to be just that: amiable but unexceptional. Perhaps credit is most due to Olivia Newton-John for playing out of control mother of the bride, acting as the leftist opposite to her on screen, politically right husband. On the political note, the whole film was suprisingly left with both soft and hard drugs being used with only minor consequences for the characters and hilarity ensuing from said consequences.
Kevin Bishop's character, complete with moustache and allergies
Hilarity as a whole though, didn't really ensue. Comparisons between this film and the Hangover will inevitably be drawn and the producers were obviously trying to draw in the same crowd, however whilst the Hangover was fresh and strangely satisfying, more or less everything in this Aussie/Brit clone has been done before - the groom's party wake up to find an animal wandering about their rooms, they have shenanigans with their crazy drug dealer and ultimately are charged with the task of rectifying all of their mistakes. The thing that annoys me about both of these films is that none of the characters ever seem to actually suffer from a hangover. At no point in this film did any of the main characters complain about having a pounding headache, dizzyness, nausea (aside from a character who downs three bottles of champagne on the day of the wedding) or even "The Fear". I would love to see some character get the 5 O'Clock in the afternoon of the next day paranoia spells I get from a heavy night. Seriously, just once I'd like to see a character appear jittery, sweaty and nervous as they try to contemplate the purpose of their existence whilst trying to "get their shit together." Instead they run around having their hijinx to some increasingly bland quirky Australian ska covers of existing songs, often mixing it up with close up shots of the spanking blonde wedding singer as if the director wanted to launch her to musical stardom through this film.
The film's biggest flaw is its predictability. It starts with a shallow sentimental "I love you moment" between the two lovers and more or less ends with the same moment. You could yell at me for saying that's a spoiler but the film is shot in such a way that nothing other than the last fourty seconds pre-credits act as a suprise. The slapstick jokes are so often delivered as "visual set up", delay, "visual punchline", with the punchlines very rarely being anything other than exactly what you expected it to be. For me this meant the laugh factor was much lower than it ultimately could have been. Whilst I could hear a lot of laughs from the rest of the audience, the four of us watching were compartively silent, I can only presume they were the twenty or so people in the western hemisphere who haven't seen the Hangover.
The bottom line is that this film is just too average to buy a cinema ticket on any other day than a £3.00 Tuesday or whatever your local cinema's variant is. It'll be better suited for those nights where you and your boyfriend/girlfriend/spouse/moose/wookiee are tired after a long week of work, want to stay in rent a movie and fall asleep on the couch three quarters of the way through. Despite the odd moment of gross out comedy involving a sheep's rectum, this is inoffensive old hat, not without its charms but not exactly full of them either.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Breaking Bad Break Down Season 5, Episode 5: Dead Freight
Breakdown
So this is my very first Breaking Bad Break Down on this site, previously I posted this on a forum I frequent. Yes, yes, forum frequenting - geeky shit. Get over it. These will be SPOILER HEAVY so I will create a deliberate gap just in case you don't want anything well.. spoiled. Scroll down if you've already seen the episode/just want to read.
Here's a quick summary of what happened:
- Walt has the kids stay with Hank and Marie, trying to win Skyler's faith and trust in him again
- Walt bugs Hanks office and phone in order to extort information from the DEA
- Walt, Mike and Jessie deal with Lydia and find out she has been honest about the tracking devices placed under the methlamine barrels
- The three rob a train with the help of Todd
- Todd shoots a young boy when he accidently happens on the crime scene
Breakdown and Predictions:
In classic Breaking Bad style, we are presented with an opening that seems completely detached to the rest of the episode. Seemingly irrelevant to the episode we are watching, we discard the information of the intro and try concentrating on the rest of the story line which we tend to regard as much more important to the lives of the characters we are following.
Midway through the episode we are introduced to Todd. He came on as too much of a goodie two shoes to act as any real threat. With his Josh Homme look, the worse we could have seen him be would have been a police informant. After all, Jessie and Walt seem content to explain their devious plan in a James Bond-villain style summary. Whilst he at first appeared to have been used as little more than a narrative device for the viewer to understand what the pair were actually getting up to, I wasn't completely convinced.
Likewise, when Walt really pushed his luck with the train and refused to have Jessie and Todd disconnect the two liquid transferring cables and just about succeeded, I knew that the episode could not end without incident. The extremely late timing of the incident was on the other hand pretty shocking.
I suspect the fate of the young boy carrying the tarantula in the next episode will determine the true nature of the main characters over the rest of the series. In all likelihood, the boy is dead, meaning that the characters will have to find a way to dispose of the body. Walt seems fairly un-phased about death any more. He has had less and less qualms about killing since the first murder he commits in the first series, choking the chained meth dealer up in the basement. The show is truly about his complete descent into darkness (hence the title, Breaking Bad). Jessie on the other hand, has never found killing easy. He is like an insecure child that on some level wants to do the right thing, just is completely misguided. In season four he became incredibly adept at killing. We saw him slaughter Mexican gangsters like he did the bad guys of his computer games. Over the last season, he has shown remorse, a desire to prevent anyone else from dying - innocent or otherwise. For him, the death toll shouldn't rise. It's as if he is trying to "break good".
If the child is alive, he will do his best to save him, get him to hospital even if he jeapordizes himself in the process. I think the end of the season will either have him do something completely heroic and self sacrificing or have him behind bars, confessing his past crimes. In this season, guilt has already forced him to break up with his girlfriend and panic about the missing ricin, in the past it has made him make far more drastic decisions. If the child is dead, he may just completely lose his shit.
Admittedly, I just haven't cracked the whole imagery of the jar-ridden tarantula, perhaps it represents incoming captivity.
Again in this episode, I respected Skyler's strength, sticking to her guns, even if it seems unfair. She asked whether Walt was off to bury bodies and despite his honesty, this episode could prove that her prediction was right. Walt will have to see a point where he can't continue because Jessie understands the death toll has to end somewhere.
This is perfect mid season drama. Walt's character development never slows down, he plays with Hank like a puppet, his use of deception is ungodly. In previous seasons we saw him jittery, letting his nerves get the better of him causing him to make rash decisions like crashing his car to prevent Hank from getting any closer to the laundromat operation, in this one he just walks into his office and bugs the shit clean out of it. We are being shown his arrogance time and time again though, ignoring the advice of others just to push everything to the limit. When he succeeds we are jubilant with him when he fails, we grow tired and angry of his stubborness. I found myself yelling "GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE! GIVE IT UP! GO GO GO GO GOGO GO!" Perhaps this is the writers' way of reminding us that Walt is his own character, we don't have a say in his behaviour. We have lost control of him like he is a run away car. One minute he is cool and calculating in his interactions (i.e. with Lydia), the next making rash decisions and acting like he is above contempt.
So this is my very first Breaking Bad Break Down on this site, previously I posted this on a forum I frequent. Yes, yes, forum frequenting - geeky shit. Get over it. These will be SPOILER HEAVY so I will create a deliberate gap just in case you don't want anything well.. spoiled. Scroll down if you've already seen the episode/just want to read.
Here's a quick summary of what happened:
- Walt has the kids stay with Hank and Marie, trying to win Skyler's faith and trust in him again
- Walt bugs Hanks office and phone in order to extort information from the DEA
- Walt, Mike and Jessie deal with Lydia and find out she has been honest about the tracking devices placed under the methlamine barrels
- The three rob a train with the help of Todd
- Todd shoots a young boy when he accidently happens on the crime scene
Breakdown and Predictions:
In classic Breaking Bad style, we are presented with an opening that seems completely detached to the rest of the episode. Seemingly irrelevant to the episode we are watching, we discard the information of the intro and try concentrating on the rest of the story line which we tend to regard as much more important to the lives of the characters we are following.
Midway through the episode we are introduced to Todd. He came on as too much of a goodie two shoes to act as any real threat. With his Josh Homme look, the worse we could have seen him be would have been a police informant. After all, Jessie and Walt seem content to explain their devious plan in a James Bond-villain style summary. Whilst he at first appeared to have been used as little more than a narrative device for the viewer to understand what the pair were actually getting up to, I wasn't completely convinced.
Likewise, when Walt really pushed his luck with the train and refused to have Jessie and Todd disconnect the two liquid transferring cables and just about succeeded, I knew that the episode could not end without incident. The extremely late timing of the incident was on the other hand pretty shocking.
I suspect the fate of the young boy carrying the tarantula in the next episode will determine the true nature of the main characters over the rest of the series. In all likelihood, the boy is dead, meaning that the characters will have to find a way to dispose of the body. Walt seems fairly un-phased about death any more. He has had less and less qualms about killing since the first murder he commits in the first series, choking the chained meth dealer up in the basement. The show is truly about his complete descent into darkness (hence the title, Breaking Bad). Jessie on the other hand, has never found killing easy. He is like an insecure child that on some level wants to do the right thing, just is completely misguided. In season four he became incredibly adept at killing. We saw him slaughter Mexican gangsters like he did the bad guys of his computer games. Over the last season, he has shown remorse, a desire to prevent anyone else from dying - innocent or otherwise. For him, the death toll shouldn't rise. It's as if he is trying to "break good".
If the child is alive, he will do his best to save him, get him to hospital even if he jeapordizes himself in the process. I think the end of the season will either have him do something completely heroic and self sacrificing or have him behind bars, confessing his past crimes. In this season, guilt has already forced him to break up with his girlfriend and panic about the missing ricin, in the past it has made him make far more drastic decisions. If the child is dead, he may just completely lose his shit.
Admittedly, I just haven't cracked the whole imagery of the jar-ridden tarantula, perhaps it represents incoming captivity.
Again in this episode, I respected Skyler's strength, sticking to her guns, even if it seems unfair. She asked whether Walt was off to bury bodies and despite his honesty, this episode could prove that her prediction was right. Walt will have to see a point where he can't continue because Jessie understands the death toll has to end somewhere.
This is perfect mid season drama. Walt's character development never slows down, he plays with Hank like a puppet, his use of deception is ungodly. In previous seasons we saw him jittery, letting his nerves get the better of him causing him to make rash decisions like crashing his car to prevent Hank from getting any closer to the laundromat operation, in this one he just walks into his office and bugs the shit clean out of it. We are being shown his arrogance time and time again though, ignoring the advice of others just to push everything to the limit. When he succeeds we are jubilant with him when he fails, we grow tired and angry of his stubborness. I found myself yelling "GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE! GIVE IT UP! GO GO GO GO GOGO GO!" Perhaps this is the writers' way of reminding us that Walt is his own character, we don't have a say in his behaviour. We have lost control of him like he is a run away car. One minute he is cool and calculating in his interactions (i.e. with Lydia), the next making rash decisions and acting like he is above contempt.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Howard Marks and John Sinclair: Breathing Air Tour
I first became aware of "King of the Hippies" Howard Marks whenever the biopic starring Rhys Ifans was released in 2010. Whilst I never saw the film, I picked up Mark's autobiography when I went Christmas shopping last year. These days I'm guilty of reading very few books. Those that I do read tend to be written by the late, great Hunter S. so when I did decide to give the book a spin, I was pleasantly suprised with its humour and read the book just about everywhere, occasionally roaring with laughter in the chairs of the dole office much to the confusion of the spides. Having seen a few of his stand up videos on youtube, I decided there was no way I was passing up an opportunity to see him perform in my local. The poster stated that he would be appearing with John Sinclair, a name I was not familiar with but assumed he would be either a warm up for the great Mr. Marks as the most famous Welsh stoner of recent history (arguably second only to the members of Goldie Looking Chain) would be a hard act to follow.
Unfortunately though, I was to be sorely disappointed. With the doors opening at 9.30pm, I figured that either an acoustic set or a warm up act would be on stage for 10.00pm. As it transpired, Marks and Sinclair didn't appear until around 10.30 where they would sit side-by-side on stage with what seemed like an unscripted ramble. With the bar bunged and sticky with the Summer heat, this wait wasn't the most particularly comfortable experience sitting around waiting for the pair especially as I was suffering from a recurring shoulder injury due to Muay Thai/BJJ training. When they finally were welcomed on stage it was by a portly fellow from down south who's forced complimenting session of the audience - "Beautiful people of Belfast. Wonderful wonderful city" quickly wore thin. I found him a little irritating due to the fact that when I asked if Marks would be around for autographs after (I had brought my book) was answered with the assertion that "merchandise would be on sale during the interval." The first thirty minutes of the act felt like an introduction to John Sinclair. With the entire audience familiar with Marks and his multi-million pound smuggling exploits, the beat poet felt much less important in comparison. Don't get me wrong, Sinclair by his own right has lived an interesting life - an old school hippy of the '60s, he was one time manager of band MC5, leader of far left, anti-racist group "The White Panthers" and was in prison for three years after giving an under cover police woman two joints. John Lennon even played at a concert thrown in the prisoner's aid back in 1972. Here's Lennon's song for Sinclair:
Maybe not one of his finest, but with that Skynyrd twang, arguably a grower. As lengthy introductions go, this was one of the self indulgent kind. Marks made some funny quips along the way but they lost some of their impact as the Welshman proceded to laugh at everything he said. I was left checking my phone for the time, pondering "when will they get to the good stuff?". Unfortunately, they never seem to get to the good stuff - the mainstay of the performance became a Q+A session, the audience were given cards prior to the first half and told to write down questions for the pair. When these questions were posed, the whole set quickly became a "Legalize drugs" debate with only the pro-legalization side being presented. In the time since I smoked my first joint at 17, I've read pretty much every argument for the legalization of drugs countless times. I could probably shit out a thesis on the subject in about two days, backed up with the scientific findings of Professor David Nutt, all the while under the influence of half of the drugs available on the black market. Had I known I was paying £13 in to a session of "preaching to the choir", I probably would have spent the money elsewhere - even paying £25 to see thrash metal legends Machinehead performing on the same night would have felt less of a sting and that's coming from someone who's job has him on a 0 hour contract. As for the choir, I can't say I enjoyed being part of it much. Having given up cannibis activism after nobody showed up to Belfast's attempt to take part in the international legalize cannibis two years ago, I was irritated to see a whole bunch of green sticker wearing "Cannibis NI" supporters fawn over Mr Marks like he was Jesus of Nazareth. An angry heckler didn't do much to add much the aptmosphere I felt somewhat distant from. I got a few laughs from some of Sinclair and Marks' story telling but I wasn't in complete dismay when they left the stage after another measly forty minutes of stage time post interval. I stuck around waiting to get my well-read copy of 'Mr Nice' signed but was waiting a good twenty minutes for the pair to finish their second smoke break. Marks did actually come across as nice as his alter-ego's name sake but rather than bore him with details of my own exploits or ask questions that I now wish to know the answer to, shook his hand and left him to deal with the orderly queue of young hippy girls forming behind me. This was kind of the height of my experience. Despite a pair of reasonably good acoustic singer song writers performing together, it wasn't enough to keep me from wanting to go home and drink another beer. Future gig throwers would be well advised to put these sort of acoustic sets at the begining of the act to entertain the audience waiting for Marks and Sinclair to appear.
Had the whole show been half price, I might have been more inclined to write a more positive review of this overall frustrating affair. If my Dad were still alive, I would have invited him along, had he come he might have been a lot more vocal about the entrance fee. I had to dissuade my accompaning friend not to pose the question "If money is a construct then how can you justify charging £13 for this shite?" No doubt it costs a fair bit to organize a tour of Ireland but the act was already plugging an album Marks and Sinclair have recently released. I'm not sure how to describe the music - kind of like 'Grateful Dead' with spoken recordings of Marks and Sinclair played over the top of them. Despite the pair having awesomely rich, deep voices designed for Morgan Freeman style narration I can't say I was willing to dig deep after feeling so ripped off. If a scripted, well performed stand up by Marks had been followed by Sinclair performing some sensational beat poetry was given, I'd probably have been happy but delivering less than an hour and a half of shite just didn't cut it I'm afraid.
Charlto
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
The Raid
Film Review: The Raid
The Raid is like one of those films that pretty much doesn't need a review.
Most people read reviews to decide in advance whether the film would be suitable for them - whether they should go and see it. I'm going to speed the process up with a quick insertion of a decision
You don't have time to watch Ong Bak before you go see this film? How do you have time to read this blog?
The Raid is a story light action film with minimal dialogue and maximum bone crunching, neck slicing elbows to the knees action. Although the film is in Indonesian, I would be suprised that in the 5-10 minutes of dialogue throughought the whole 101 minutes of screen time, we lose much in the translation we are given in the English subtitles. Maybe some of the insults might be a bit more creative and culturally specific than "motherfucker" but aside from that, not much else. Character development is one of those haphazard thrown together at the last minute affairs that presumabley in the writer's eyes would detract from the banging people's heads off. We're introduced to the main character early, shown his motivation to stay alive and see him respond to a test of morality in an obvious "he's the good guy" fashion. Pretty much everyone else is on screen for so little time that we haven't got time to warm to them - they're cannon fodder. Just like the villainous assault rifle firing, machete wielding gangsters we're typically laughing about the horrific fashion they're shuffled off the mortal coil. There aren't a lot of suprises when the "plot twists" are so unsubtedly presented to us. There are some also glaring plot holes that are to be expected with these kind of films too - it's as if the good guys never heard of mobile phones and only some of the bad guys liked using guns. People sustain ridiculous amounts of physical damage and awkwardly walk it off as if every bone in their body wasn't shattered. With movies like this, it's best to have understated plotlines. Think of the movie Taken - see that first twenty five minutes where we learn about Liam Neeson's relationship with his daughter? Commando could sum that up in a ridiculous montage involving eating ice cream and feeding deers. If you want to create an aptomosphere of suspense in a violent movie, don't do it by trying to tug on the heart strings with cutesy Holly Vallance is my idol moments, just get stuck into the warzone. It's not supposed to be a well written, realistic story of the hardships of modern times, it's supposed to deliver bullets to the face.
So that's all the negative points. Let's talk about the great things. We're given an obvious likable character that kicks ass in every way that counts. Smart, dutiful and able to break your spine he goes through this film, crippling and killing cunts until the story reaches its inevitable conclusion. The fights are fast paced and si savage that they will either make you cringe, sigh in a why-am-I-here-fashion? or chuckle in the way a sniggering schoolboy would, spitting out his coke as his friend tells him what felching is for the first time. There are some little audio/visual tricks though that make this film more enjoyable than a cheesy Sonny Chiba film from the 70s. Moments of silence or implementations of high pitched ringing noises add to the impact of explosions, gun shots or fear. Staggered hand held camera angles allow us to feel the sting our protagonist endures for a short time. I could go on but I was mesmirised by the displays of the Indonesian martial art silat on screen. The whole film just delivers in the way you would hope a mindless martial arts flick would. And if that's not what you're after don't even bother. If you are after an explosive tornado of sheer brutality. I had a lot of fun.
Wednesday, March 07, 2012
Two Sides to Every Story
If you have been on the internet to read my blog then you have been on the internet to check facebook, browse youtube etc. There is a minute possibility that you haven't been acquainted with Kony 2012 - a drive by charity Invisible Children to rid the world of tyranny from Ugandan rebel leader Joseph Kony. Kony is accused and undoubtedly guilty of kidnapping children and forcing them to mutilate and murder to keep himself in power of the LRA (Lords Revolutionary Army), a marauding 30,000 (or so the video states) force of causeless rebels. Whilst I am by no means saying Mr. Kony is a wonderful guy, the film seems to over simplify the problem in many of the third world countries of Africa. Filmmaker and charity owner Jason Russell is shown in the film to break down the problem to his son that everything is caused by a Voldemort character that that must be stopped at all costs. He goes on to advocate direct military involvement from the United States military and explains that he was successful in lobbying the government to provide an advisory force sent of US troops to aid the Ugandan army. Call me cynical but as soon as I heard this bit in the video I thought back to watching Team America: World Police. I'm hearing beer swilling, sweat dribbling rednecks from Louisiana to Arkansas yelling in unison "AMERICA! FUCK YEAH!" My second thought came to mind that if Kony's army is comprised of child soldiers then sending Ugandan troops to combat the LRA means countless numbers of dead child soldiers ridden with bullets. Sure, they claim they just want to "arrest" this man but do you really expect him to lie in a six foot deep hole for three days so he can be tried and hung? Even arresting him, will that just solve the massive numbers of problems that Africa faces on a day-to-day basis? What about Mugabe? What about the Congo? Should US troops be deployed in all of these situations where human rights are routinely abused and horrendous atrocities are committed on a daily basis? Where do you draw the line?
Of course that's not going to happen because America doesn't involve itself in wars that don't involve "protecting its economic interests" (extreme paraphrasing of the video and an almost century old Wilson Woodrow speech) but why should this Ugandan situation be any different? You could sit and study the problem Rwanda faced in the nineties and whether humanitarian intervention actually works for four years and still not know whether the answer is "yes" or "no" but I see so many of you on facebook are willing to dive in head first in to the fight to spread awareness of this man and make him famous so that he can be captured and put to trial. You might even donate money to the cause but is this really the answer?
I want you to review the following websites before you come to a decision:
Chris Blattman's review
Tumbler: Visible Children
Both of these sites do a far better job of providing information from the other side of the story than I do. Again they don't make Kony out to be a hero, they just question the true intent of Invisible Children's mission, that even with their heart being in the right place their actions won't necessarily result in the desired result.
I don't want to talk you out of giving money for charity. I am no Ayn Rand character - altruism and concern for your fellow man is in my eyes a beautiful thing. Just consider what you are giving more before you donate. Don't jump on a bandwagon because all your facebook friend's posted it and don't kid yourself into thinking by signing up to something like this you're saving the world. People like Kony are a bit more complicated than the 2D computer game villain the video makes him out to be. Shooting him isn't going to mean rainbows and happy times for everybody. Do you really think that the Ugandan army is made up of good natured white knights (not in the literal sense, obviously)that ride to battle to bring justice and restore order to the land? No army is perfect and there is no evidence to suggest that the Ugandan liberation army is anything but far from perfect. In a war torn African country, Kony is a symptom of economic and cultural sickness. Curing this illness is going to take a lot of hard work and a lot of time that this fad won't cure overnight.
If you have been on the internet to read my blog then you have been on the internet to check facebook, browse youtube etc. There is a minute possibility that you haven't been acquainted with Kony 2012 - a drive by charity Invisible Children to rid the world of tyranny from Ugandan rebel leader Joseph Kony. Kony is accused and undoubtedly guilty of kidnapping children and forcing them to mutilate and murder to keep himself in power of the LRA (Lords Revolutionary Army), a marauding 30,000 (or so the video states) force of causeless rebels. Whilst I am by no means saying Mr. Kony is a wonderful guy, the film seems to over simplify the problem in many of the third world countries of Africa. Filmmaker and charity owner Jason Russell is shown in the film to break down the problem to his son that everything is caused by a Voldemort character that that must be stopped at all costs. He goes on to advocate direct military involvement from the United States military and explains that he was successful in lobbying the government to provide an advisory force sent of US troops to aid the Ugandan army. Call me cynical but as soon as I heard this bit in the video I thought back to watching Team America: World Police. I'm hearing beer swilling, sweat dribbling rednecks from Louisiana to Arkansas yelling in unison "AMERICA! FUCK YEAH!" My second thought came to mind that if Kony's army is comprised of child soldiers then sending Ugandan troops to combat the LRA means countless numbers of dead child soldiers ridden with bullets. Sure, they claim they just want to "arrest" this man but do you really expect him to lie in a six foot deep hole for three days so he can be tried and hung? Even arresting him, will that just solve the massive numbers of problems that Africa faces on a day-to-day basis? What about Mugabe? What about the Congo? Should US troops be deployed in all of these situations where human rights are routinely abused and horrendous atrocities are committed on a daily basis? Where do you draw the line?
Of course that's not going to happen because America doesn't involve itself in wars that don't involve "protecting its economic interests" (extreme paraphrasing of the video and an almost century old Wilson Woodrow speech) but why should this Ugandan situation be any different? You could sit and study the problem Rwanda faced in the nineties and whether humanitarian intervention actually works for four years and still not know whether the answer is "yes" or "no" but I see so many of you on facebook are willing to dive in head first in to the fight to spread awareness of this man and make him famous so that he can be captured and put to trial. You might even donate money to the cause but is this really the answer?
I want you to review the following websites before you come to a decision:
Chris Blattman's review
Tumbler: Visible Children
Both of these sites do a far better job of providing information from the other side of the story than I do. Again they don't make Kony out to be a hero, they just question the true intent of Invisible Children's mission, that even with their heart being in the right place their actions won't necessarily result in the desired result.
I don't want to talk you out of giving money for charity. I am no Ayn Rand character - altruism and concern for your fellow man is in my eyes a beautiful thing. Just consider what you are giving more before you donate. Don't jump on a bandwagon because all your facebook friend's posted it and don't kid yourself into thinking by signing up to something like this you're saving the world. People like Kony are a bit more complicated than the 2D computer game villain the video makes him out to be. Shooting him isn't going to mean rainbows and happy times for everybody. Do you really think that the Ugandan army is made up of good natured white knights (not in the literal sense, obviously)that ride to battle to bring justice and restore order to the land? No army is perfect and there is no evidence to suggest that the Ugandan liberation army is anything but far from perfect. In a war torn African country, Kony is a symptom of economic and cultural sickness. Curing this illness is going to take a lot of hard work and a lot of time that this fad won't cure overnight.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Dream Journal Shit
Tired of using facebook as my dream journal, I now give you summaries of what I can remember going on in my brain during my dormant state.
The first one I had last night seemed to be about trying to look after my mad five year old cousin, practically a nephew. In this dream he was running around my house trying to get a pack of super soaker toys out of my house that my mum had found on the street with the intent of giving back to the original owner. The kid then climbed into the box of another massive super soaker that was suspended by a string over my landing. I had to try and make the kid happy despite all of this nonsense. Somehow old school Eddy Murphy (Beverly Hills cop kind) became my best friend during all of this. Thanks Eddy.
The next dream seemed to involve a doctor, a beautiful yet three eyed version of Natalie Portman and a zombie outbreak. This was all based in one of those suburban parts of Belfast like the streets of Four Winds, sitting on a grassy knoll. The doctor at the time was trying to forumate a cure for the infection, whilst Natalie had been infected the doctor had used some kind of drug that stopped the infection from fully bonding with the rest of her cells, keeping it in some sort of dormant state. I was on look out to see if any zombies were coming and had the chance to kiss miss Portman, but chose to decline feeling that at any moment she could mutate and bite the shit out of me. I finally woke up when I saw hordes of zombies running out of a house like a crowd of spastics.
Tired of using facebook as my dream journal, I now give you summaries of what I can remember going on in my brain during my dormant state.
The first one I had last night seemed to be about trying to look after my mad five year old cousin, practically a nephew. In this dream he was running around my house trying to get a pack of super soaker toys out of my house that my mum had found on the street with the intent of giving back to the original owner. The kid then climbed into the box of another massive super soaker that was suspended by a string over my landing. I had to try and make the kid happy despite all of this nonsense. Somehow old school Eddy Murphy (Beverly Hills cop kind) became my best friend during all of this. Thanks Eddy.
The next dream seemed to involve a doctor, a beautiful yet three eyed version of Natalie Portman and a zombie outbreak. This was all based in one of those suburban parts of Belfast like the streets of Four Winds, sitting on a grassy knoll. The doctor at the time was trying to forumate a cure for the infection, whilst Natalie had been infected the doctor had used some kind of drug that stopped the infection from fully bonding with the rest of her cells, keeping it in some sort of dormant state. I was on look out to see if any zombies were coming and had the chance to kiss miss Portman, but chose to decline feeling that at any moment she could mutate and bite the shit out of me. I finally woke up when I saw hordes of zombies running out of a house like a crowd of spastics.