"So what seems to be the problem with the car? It looks fine to me"
"It's got wasps."
That's right, my car has wasps, more than just an annoyance, it qualifies as a bain. I arrived home this weekend (from uni) and decided to take my mammy (English: Mummy. American: Mommy) to the shops. On the way a wasp appeared, we fidgeted a bit in our seats and got rid of it. Then a second appeared as we reached our destination. I opened the door to let it out, but instead it chose to seek residence in the door cavity. I thought this was odd and deduced that maybe, whilst the car had been left relatively dormant (my parent had taken it out a bit to keep it in shape) the wasps must have sought refuge from the elements there.
I said this was more than an annoyance (I remember) and it crossed that line today (day two of wasp car). I had generously offered to take my youngest brother (Chris) to his swimming lesson and do a couple of other errands in town. Saturday afternoon in Ipswich was always going to be busy and we were suitably braced to deal with it. Sat in the car, other vehicles stretching out in front of us as far as the eye could see. We edged, we edged a little more, we edge forward in this fashion for about ten minutes. Nothing new here. But wait! There is more to this story. A massive wasp emerges from the air conditioning and (I am a bit embarrassed about this) startles me quite a-bloody-lot. We edge into the smart car in front of us at 2mph (perhaps 3mph, its academic, we weren't moving fast) doing virtually no damage to my car, but cracking the fibre glass rear of the smart car. Suitably apologetic and genial I have begun to attempt to abate this, very understanding, woman. Of course money will change hands (probably my dads) and that's what upsets me so deeply. That wasp (and my own girlish reactions) could cost hundreds of pounds.
Well that is it. Yet another deviation from my premise, but a story I felt the world should know. So buckle up, look straight ahead and watch out for wasps.
Saturday, 30 October 2010
Wednesday, 27 October 2010
The Dissappearance of Alice Creed (2009)
A return to format!
Last night I sat sown with a couple of (rather sleepy and easily distracted) friends and watched (The Disappearance of) Alice Creed.
Premise: Posh girl kidnapped, for cash.
A simple story allows for good character development, but that is enough actual review(ie) stuff. I will now try to cram the whole film into as few words as possible. Wish me luck.
Ok,
Film opens. Two men buy lots of stuff. They use stuff to soundproof and prepare flat for kidnapping. Men get into van, drive to posh bit of town. Get Alice, put Alice in van, take Alice from van, chain Alice to bed, strip Alice naked. They take photos of naked Alice (for kidnapping purpose) and dress her again. Men talk. Alice needs toilet, she pisses in a bottle. One man goes out. Alice needs a poo. Second man tries to deal with it. Alice hits second man on the head with a bucket and takes his gun. Second man is in fact Alice's boyfriend and explains that he is doing this to get money from Alice's father, who has recently cut her off. See agrees to get tied up again and have a share in the money. First guy gets back, everything is fine. First man and Second man kiss a lot. Second man is playing both Alice and First man against each other. First man goes out again. Second man starts having sex with Alice. Alice tricked him and ties him up. She tries to escape but can't and he ties her up again. First man comes back, suspects second man. Finds out the second man knows Alice and is going to take all the money. They get everything ready for the exchange. First man shoots second, but doesn't kill him. First man gets shot by second. First dies and second leaves with all the money. Alice, until now tied up, gets keys off first mans corpse and finds second man dead from earlier injury and drives off with all the cash.
Obviously this has done the film no justice what so ever and has completely wasted your time.
Last night I sat sown with a couple of (rather sleepy and easily distracted) friends and watched (The Disappearance of) Alice Creed.
Premise: Posh girl kidnapped, for cash.
A simple story allows for good character development, but that is enough actual review(ie) stuff. I will now try to cram the whole film into as few words as possible. Wish me luck.
Ok,
Film opens. Two men buy lots of stuff. They use stuff to soundproof and prepare flat for kidnapping. Men get into van, drive to posh bit of town. Get Alice, put Alice in van, take Alice from van, chain Alice to bed, strip Alice naked. They take photos of naked Alice (for kidnapping purpose) and dress her again. Men talk. Alice needs toilet, she pisses in a bottle. One man goes out. Alice needs a poo. Second man tries to deal with it. Alice hits second man on the head with a bucket and takes his gun. Second man is in fact Alice's boyfriend and explains that he is doing this to get money from Alice's father, who has recently cut her off. See agrees to get tied up again and have a share in the money. First guy gets back, everything is fine. First man and Second man kiss a lot. Second man is playing both Alice and First man against each other. First man goes out again. Second man starts having sex with Alice. Alice tricked him and ties him up. She tries to escape but can't and he ties her up again. First man comes back, suspects second man. Finds out the second man knows Alice and is going to take all the money. They get everything ready for the exchange. First man shoots second, but doesn't kill him. First man gets shot by second. First dies and second leaves with all the money. Alice, until now tied up, gets keys off first mans corpse and finds second man dead from earlier injury and drives off with all the cash.
Obviously this has done the film no justice what so ever and has completely wasted your time.
Tuesday, 26 October 2010
Statistics
A great man once said, 'A statistic is no more than a pebble on the shoreline of maths, but many statistics make a whole beach where we can lay and relax.'
Statistics, they're everywhere. If you look closely enough in any direction, you will be able to see at least four statistics*. The human body itself is full of statistics, for example the average human has less than two legs. Have a look, are you above average?
The majority of people in the UK first meet statistics upon arrival at school, aged 5 years. As the newest members of the school are paraded in front of the existing members, they are attacked with a volley of abusive statistics from their soon to be school chums. At the end of the hour long barrage of misery the young children are asked to recite (still stood in front of the whole school) as many of the statistics they have heard as they can, the child that successfully remembers the most is presented with a crown, slippers and ceremonial hoog-garten and is allowed to dance when ever they see fit for the remainder of the day. The child who remembers the least, or is seen to willfully make up statistics is sent to the school bed, without any school supper. in the event of a tie, in either extremity, a siren is sounded and the teachers are allowed to take a pencil from the child of their choice. This may sound harsh, but it has helped to make the UK's statisticians among the rest in the world.
We've talked a lot about statistics, but we haven't really looked at any. Lets see what is in the charts at the moment**.
Top 10
10. 8 out of 31 mountains are in fact hills
9. The highest ratio of cylinder speed to curvature is 7:2
8. The incremental turning of a spoke in a bike wheel is an average of .04% faster than the tire of the wheel
7. Reading on average, in a properly sanitised environment, is only 1/5 harder than walking
6. 200 hundred people a day die from spice inhalation worldwide
5. 80% of all Dutch have been sexually abused
4. Dogs
3. Up to 100% of proteins come in liquid form
2. The average drying speed for clothes subjected to wind speeds of 7 Knots is 17mins
1. For optimum enjoyment, music should be served at 108 degrees (Fahrenheit)
But of course you're familiar with modern statistics, what of those of the ancients you say? I do not know, nor does any one else. The information regarding statistics before the year 1921 was kept, and heavily guarded, on a ship out in the Pacific ocean, but it exploded.
What then of the future of statistics? Well look no further than the Sebastian Coe Statistical Research Centre in David, Texas. Where for over 15 months the worlds top statisticians have been meeting, discussing and poking some of the most obscure and obtuse statistics known to man.
I went to have a look. I arrived at the envelope shaped entrance gate and was greeted (then briefly put under with general anesthetic) by a young research scientist name of Micheal Warbling, or as he preferred to be known, Adam. As Adam transported me down the many bisecting hallways in my guest-car, I noticed the distinct lack of windows. When I questioned Adam on the subject he explained it in simple terms for me to understand, "The man who designed the building forgot to put any in. He was too bashful and we too polite to bring it up. I'd rather you didn't mention this again" he laughed.
As we approached the end of my tour (everything up to this point had been looking in each vending machine in the facility in order for Adam to buy the fullest pack of skittles for his money) I was taken into the brain of the centre, the brain room. Everyone knows that you cannot store statistical information on a computer, it just won't work. So for years, over populated and impoverished nations have been selling human brains to centres like this one, in order to save the (perhaps) vital information from becoming lost or gooey. The room was filled with over a thousand brains, some having to share a cell, looked irritable. "Most of them are from Djibouti" announced Adam during a lull in our (increasingly) stifled conversation.
As I entered the decompression chamber and prepared for a long night of flashing lights and harrowing meals I waved uncomfortably at Adam, who wept a single hyper-tear (about a litre and a half) turned and vanished into the mist. I used that terrifying and sleepless night to reflect upon what I had learned of statistics, what I wrote on my pad was so horrible, I hope never to look at it again.
In conclusion Statistics are important and vital and stuff, but I question whether we really need them or whether a better method would be using recipes or old coke bottles? I guess we'll never know.
*Unless of course, for obvious reasons, you or someone near you, is colour blind
** Statistics taken from the UK top 100 Stat's chart sponsored by 'Literacy - Let's get literate!'
Statistics, they're everywhere. If you look closely enough in any direction, you will be able to see at least four statistics*. The human body itself is full of statistics, for example the average human has less than two legs. Have a look, are you above average?
The majority of people in the UK first meet statistics upon arrival at school, aged 5 years. As the newest members of the school are paraded in front of the existing members, they are attacked with a volley of abusive statistics from their soon to be school chums. At the end of the hour long barrage of misery the young children are asked to recite (still stood in front of the whole school) as many of the statistics they have heard as they can, the child that successfully remembers the most is presented with a crown, slippers and ceremonial hoog-garten and is allowed to dance when ever they see fit for the remainder of the day. The child who remembers the least, or is seen to willfully make up statistics is sent to the school bed, without any school supper. in the event of a tie, in either extremity, a siren is sounded and the teachers are allowed to take a pencil from the child of their choice. This may sound harsh, but it has helped to make the UK's statisticians among the rest in the world.
We've talked a lot about statistics, but we haven't really looked at any. Lets see what is in the charts at the moment**.
Top 10
10. 8 out of 31 mountains are in fact hills
9. The highest ratio of cylinder speed to curvature is 7:2
8. The incremental turning of a spoke in a bike wheel is an average of .04% faster than the tire of the wheel
7. Reading on average, in a properly sanitised environment, is only 1/5 harder than walking
6. 200 hundred people a day die from spice inhalation worldwide
5. 80% of all Dutch have been sexually abused
4. Dogs
3. Up to 100% of proteins come in liquid form
2. The average drying speed for clothes subjected to wind speeds of 7 Knots is 17mins
1. For optimum enjoyment, music should be served at 108 degrees (Fahrenheit)
But of course you're familiar with modern statistics, what of those of the ancients you say? I do not know, nor does any one else. The information regarding statistics before the year 1921 was kept, and heavily guarded, on a ship out in the Pacific ocean, but it exploded.
What then of the future of statistics? Well look no further than the Sebastian Coe Statistical Research Centre in David, Texas. Where for over 15 months the worlds top statisticians have been meeting, discussing and poking some of the most obscure and obtuse statistics known to man.
I went to have a look. I arrived at the envelope shaped entrance gate and was greeted (then briefly put under with general anesthetic) by a young research scientist name of Micheal Warbling, or as he preferred to be known, Adam. As Adam transported me down the many bisecting hallways in my guest-car, I noticed the distinct lack of windows. When I questioned Adam on the subject he explained it in simple terms for me to understand, "The man who designed the building forgot to put any in. He was too bashful and we too polite to bring it up. I'd rather you didn't mention this again" he laughed.
As we approached the end of my tour (everything up to this point had been looking in each vending machine in the facility in order for Adam to buy the fullest pack of skittles for his money) I was taken into the brain of the centre, the brain room. Everyone knows that you cannot store statistical information on a computer, it just won't work. So for years, over populated and impoverished nations have been selling human brains to centres like this one, in order to save the (perhaps) vital information from becoming lost or gooey. The room was filled with over a thousand brains, some having to share a cell, looked irritable. "Most of them are from Djibouti" announced Adam during a lull in our (increasingly) stifled conversation.
As I entered the decompression chamber and prepared for a long night of flashing lights and harrowing meals I waved uncomfortably at Adam, who wept a single hyper-tear (about a litre and a half) turned and vanished into the mist. I used that terrifying and sleepless night to reflect upon what I had learned of statistics, what I wrote on my pad was so horrible, I hope never to look at it again.
In conclusion Statistics are important and vital and stuff, but I question whether we really need them or whether a better method would be using recipes or old coke bottles? I guess we'll never know.
*Unless of course, for obvious reasons, you or someone near you, is colour blind
** Statistics taken from the UK top 100 Stat's chart sponsored by 'Literacy - Let's get literate!'
Monday, 25 October 2010
Trains (1603 - Present)
In continued deviation from my selected subject, today I will be looking at (by which I mean reviewing) trains. Trains, great metal sausages rolling through our mash potato country side and our mixed vegetable suburban areas, along our gravy coastlines and under the national plate that is the ground.
Trains, they have been around for ages, haven't they? Yes. The first steam engines were actually toys for little (by which I mean children) Greeks, some 600 years before Jesus (The Christian equivalent of our Mohammad). Since those humble beginnings, trains have come a long way. Trains now come in all sorts of sizes, be they single carriage or double carriaged. Trains come in all sorts of colours, blue, grey, sliver, red, orange, green, black, hyper-vomit, pink, silver, gold, purple or even brown. Trains are used for transporting all sorts of goods and services, anything from turnips to accountancy, from feathers to Worksop, from abstract concepts (such as time, which can be extremely volatile) to plain old Christmas hair bags to Santa (Claus), yes at some point almost everything you've ever touched has been on a train.
But train excitement doesn't stop there, not by some way, thanks to capitalism and the (correct) belief that all men are not born equal, our beloved class system is also available on trains. We have both first and second class, though third class went missing some years ago and is presumed lost. In second class there are few perks (seats, windows, ventilation) and often you will have to sit next to someone with whom you are not on first name terms with, which, as I can testify, can be jolly awkward.
Much better then that we focus our collective effort (come on team!) on lovely first class, so called because it is indeed lovely. In (lovely) first class the air smells of sweet jade, the windows bear the tint of sweet jade and the carriages multi-faith prayer leader wears robes dyed in the sweetest jade. Seats are also better than in second class, indifiningly so, but better all the same. Your train-waiter (traiter) introduces you to each member of your fellow cohort as you are gently lifted onto the train and eased, delicately, into your seat. This may seem like an odd formality but is actually how the powers that be choose to converse and as a result the laws, bi-laws and quinx-laws of our great nation (whichever nation you, the reader, are from) are born. Yes, without the mighty train, pumping its many liquid filled legs of benevolent rubber, governance would be just a fools daydream, escaping into the ether whilst many a previously sane soul rips the head off their once loved neighbour and stares, destitute, at their last morsels of anarchic food.
There are also many humorous instances involving trains, which I am sure will amuse and amaze you in equal measure, unfortunately I cannot remember but one. So you will have to use your imaginations.
Trains are not just means of transport (this word comes from the greeco-latonium 'trainsport', which means to travel distances by train), but also they can be used for building bridges, sorting seeds and one train even holds the record for 'most inventions by a train'. I would go on to talk about these fantastic inventions, but seeing as each and every member of our global society uses both at least once a day (in the case of the latter, more likely twice) it seems as though I would be wasting my (typed) letters. Much like explaining to a postman, why it is that clocks are shperical, he would just become enraged and loose equilibrium, given his vast knowledge of the subject matter.
In conclusion, though trains have a ratio of just 1:5 compared to household pets, they are at least six times more loved*, which is a net win for our fantastic, feline powered friends. Trains will, literally, be around forever (according to Nostradamus) and its a good thing to, because trains are great!
*Figures taken from the UK preference survey 2001
Trains, they have been around for ages, haven't they? Yes. The first steam engines were actually toys for little (by which I mean children) Greeks, some 600 years before Jesus (The Christian equivalent of our Mohammad). Since those humble beginnings, trains have come a long way. Trains now come in all sorts of sizes, be they single carriage or double carriaged. Trains come in all sorts of colours, blue, grey, sliver, red, orange, green, black, hyper-vomit, pink, silver, gold, purple or even brown. Trains are used for transporting all sorts of goods and services, anything from turnips to accountancy, from feathers to Worksop, from abstract concepts (such as time, which can be extremely volatile) to plain old Christmas hair bags to Santa (Claus), yes at some point almost everything you've ever touched has been on a train.
But train excitement doesn't stop there, not by some way, thanks to capitalism and the (correct) belief that all men are not born equal, our beloved class system is also available on trains. We have both first and second class, though third class went missing some years ago and is presumed lost. In second class there are few perks (seats, windows, ventilation) and often you will have to sit next to someone with whom you are not on first name terms with, which, as I can testify, can be jolly awkward.
Much better then that we focus our collective effort (come on team!) on lovely first class, so called because it is indeed lovely. In (lovely) first class the air smells of sweet jade, the windows bear the tint of sweet jade and the carriages multi-faith prayer leader wears robes dyed in the sweetest jade. Seats are also better than in second class, indifiningly so, but better all the same. Your train-waiter (traiter) introduces you to each member of your fellow cohort as you are gently lifted onto the train and eased, delicately, into your seat. This may seem like an odd formality but is actually how the powers that be choose to converse and as a result the laws, bi-laws and quinx-laws of our great nation (whichever nation you, the reader, are from) are born. Yes, without the mighty train, pumping its many liquid filled legs of benevolent rubber, governance would be just a fools daydream, escaping into the ether whilst many a previously sane soul rips the head off their once loved neighbour and stares, destitute, at their last morsels of anarchic food.
There are also many humorous instances involving trains, which I am sure will amuse and amaze you in equal measure, unfortunately I cannot remember but one. So you will have to use your imaginations.
Trains are not just means of transport (this word comes from the greeco-latonium 'trainsport', which means to travel distances by train), but also they can be used for building bridges, sorting seeds and one train even holds the record for 'most inventions by a train'. I would go on to talk about these fantastic inventions, but seeing as each and every member of our global society uses both at least once a day (in the case of the latter, more likely twice) it seems as though I would be wasting my (typed) letters. Much like explaining to a postman, why it is that clocks are shperical, he would just become enraged and loose equilibrium, given his vast knowledge of the subject matter.
In conclusion, though trains have a ratio of just 1:5 compared to household pets, they are at least six times more loved*, which is a net win for our fantastic, feline powered friends. Trains will, literally, be around forever (according to Nostradamus) and its a good thing to, because trains are great!
*Figures taken from the UK preference survey 2001
Sunday, 24 October 2010
Groundhog Day (1993)
Anything to avoid more uni work, this is how a blog is born. This evening I will be recounting groundhog day. I may run out of superlatives, so if you see any gaps in the text, you know will know why they are (or are not?) there.
Phil Conners (Bill Murray) is a less than genial weather forecaster for a Pittsburgh based television country. Each year he gets to make the less than enjoyable trip to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania to cover the Ground hog day festivities. Ground hog day is, quite simply (very simply), an event where some people look at a rodent and decide if spring is coming. Phil's new production manager Rita (Andy McDowell) is all bubbly and excited and tags along for the trip. Phil wakes up on the first morning to go and cover the event. As mornings go its pretty bad and Phil is keen for it to end. After Upsetting a few people (including Rita) and failing to escape the town, Phil goes to bed.
Phil Conners (Bill Murry) is a less than genial weather forecaster for a Pittsburgh based television country. Each year he gets to make the less than enjoyable trip to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania to cover the Ground hog day festivities. Ground hog day is, quite simply (very simply), an event where some people look at a rodent and decide if spring is coming. Phil's new production manager Rita (Andy McDowell) is all bubbly and excited and tags along for the trip. Phil wakes up on the first morning to go and cover the event. As mornings go its pretty bad and Phil is keen for it to end. After Upsetting a few people (including Rita) and failing to escape the town, Phil goes to bed.
Phil Conners (Bill Murry) is a less than genial weather forecaster for a Pittsburgh based television country. Each year he gets to make the less than enjoyable trip to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania to cover the Ground hog day festivities. Ground hog day is, quite simply (very simply), an event where some people look at a rodent and decide if spring is coming. Phil's new production manager Rita (Andy McDowell) is all bubbly and excited and tags along for the trip. Phil wakes up on the first morning to go and cover the event. As mornings go its pretty bad and Phil is keen for it to end. After Upsetting a few people (including Rita) and failing to escape the town, Phil goes to bed.
Phil Conners (Bill Murry) is a less than genial weather forecaster for a Pittsburgh based television country. Each year he gets to make the less than enjoyable trip to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania to cover the Ground hog day festivities. Ground hog day is, quite simply (very simply), an event where some people look at a rodent and decide if spring is coming. Phil's new production manager Rita (Andy McDowell) is all bubbly and excited and tags along for the trip. Phil wakes up on the first morning to go and cover the event. As mornings go its pretty bad and Phil is keen for it to end. After Upsetting a few people (including Rita) and failing to escape the town, Phil goes to bed.
Phil Conners (Bill Murry) is a less than genial weather forecaster for a Pittsburgh based television country. Each year he gets to make the less than enjoyable trip to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania to cover the Ground hog day festivities. Ground hog day is, quite simply (very simply), an event where some people look at a rodent and decide if spring is coming. Phil's new production manager Rita (Andy McDowell) is all bubbly and excited and tags along for the trip. Phil wakes up on the first morning to go and cover the event. As mornings go its pretty bad and Phil is keen for it to end. After Upsetting a few people (including Rita) and failing to escape the town, Phil goes to bed.
Phil Conners (Bill Murry) is a less than genial weather forecaster for a Pittsburgh based television country. Each year he gets to make the less than enjoyable trip to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania to cover the Ground hog day festivities. Ground hog day is, quite simply (very simply), an event where some people look at a rodent and decide if spring is coming. Phil's new production manager Rita (Andy McDowell) is all bubbly and excited and tags along for the trip. Phil wakes up on the first morning to go and cover the event. As mornings go its pretty bad and Phil is keen for it to end. After Upsetting a few people (including Rita) and failing to escape the town, Phil goes to bed.
Phil Conners (Bill Murry) is a less than genial weather forecaster for a Pittsburgh based television country. Each year he gets to make the less than enjoyable trip to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania to cover the Ground hog day festivities. Ground hog day is, quite simply (very simply), an event where some people look at a rodent and decide if spring is coming. Phil's new production manager Rita (Andy McDowell) is all bubbly and excited and tags along for the trip. Phil wakes up on the first morning to go and cover the event. As mornings go its pretty bad and Phil is keen for it to end. After Upsetting a few people (including Rita) and failing to escape the town, Phil goes to bed.
Phil Conners (Bill Murry) is a less than genial weather forecaster for a Pittsburgh based television country. Each year he gets to make the less than enjoyable trip to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania to cover the Ground hog day festivities. Ground hog day is, quite simply (very simply), an event where some people look at a rodent and decide if spring is coming. Phil's new production manager Rita (Andy McDowell) is all bubbly and excited and tags along for the trip. Phil wakes up on the first morning to go and cover the event. As mornings go its pretty bad and Phil is keen for it to end. After Upsetting a few people (including Rita) and failing to escape the town, Phil goes to bed.
Phil Conners (Bill Murray) is a less than genial weather forecaster for a Pittsburgh based television country. Each year he gets to make the less than enjoyable trip to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania to cover the Ground hog day festivities. Ground hog day is, quite simply (very simply), an event where some people look at a rodent and decide if spring is coming. Phil's new production manager Rita (Andy McDowell) is all bubbly and excited and tags along for the trip. Phil wakes up on the first morning to go and cover the event. As mornings go its pretty bad and Phil is keen for it to end. After Upsetting a few people (including Rita) and failing to escape the town, Phil goes to bed.
Phil Conners (Bill Murry) is a less than genial weather forecaster for a Pittsburgh based television country. Each year he gets to make the less than enjoyable trip to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania to cover the Ground hog day festivities. Ground hog day is, quite simply (very simply), an event where some people look at a rodent and decide if spring is coming. Phil's new production manager Rita (Andy McDowell) is all bubbly and excited and tags along for the trip. Phil wakes up on the first morning to go and cover the event. As mornings go its pretty bad and Phil is keen for it to end. After Upsetting a few people (including Rita) and failing to escape the town, Phil goes to bed.
Phil Conners (Bill Murry) is a less than genial weather forecaster for a Pittsburgh based television country. Each year he gets to make the less than enjoyable trip to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania to cover the Ground hog day festivities. Ground hog day is, quite simply (very simply), an event where some people look at a rodent and decide if spring is coming. Phil's new production manager Rita (Andy McDowell) is all bubbly and excited and tags along for the trip. Phil wakes up on the first morning to go and cover the event. As mornings go its pretty bad and Phil is keen for it to end. After Upsetting a few people (including Rita) and failing to escape the town, Phil goes to bed.
Phil Conners (Bill Murry) is a less than genial weather forecaster for a Pittsburgh based television country. Each year he gets to make the less than enjoyable trip to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania to cover the Ground hog day festivities. Ground hog day is, quite simply (very simply), an event where some people look at a rodent and decide if spring is coming. Phil's new production manager Rita (Andy McDowell) is all bubbly and excited and tags along for the trip. Phil wakes up on the first morning to go and cover the event. As mornings go its pretty bad and Phil is keen for it to end. After Upsetting a few people (including Rita) and failing to escape the town, Phil goes to bed.
Phil Conners (Bill Murry) is a less than genial weather forecaster for a Pittsburgh based television country. Each year he gets to make the less than enjoyable trip to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania to cover the Ground hog day festivities. Ground hog day is, quite simply (very simply), an event where some people look at a rodent and decide if spring is coming. Phil's new production manager Rita (Andy McDowell) is all bubbly and excited and tags along for the trip. Phil wakes up on the first morning to go and cover the event. As mornings go its pretty bad and Phil is keen for it to end. After Upsetting a few people (including Rita) and failing to escape the town, Phil goes to bed.
Phil Conners (Bill Murry) is a less than genial weather forecaster for a Pittsburgh based television country. Each year he gets to make the less than enjoyable trip to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania to cover the Ground hog day festivities. Ground hog day is, quite simply (very simply), an event where some people look at a rodent and decide if spring is coming. Phil's new production manager Rita (Andy McDowell) is all bubbly and excited and tags along for the trip. Phil wakes up on the first morning to go and cover the event. As mornings go its pretty bad and Phil is keen for it to end. After Upsetting a few people (including Rita) and failing to escape the town, Phil goes to bed.
Phil Conners (Bill Murry) is a less than genial weather forecaster for a Pittsburgh based television country. Each year he gets to make the less than enjoyable trip to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania to cover the Ground hog day festivities. Ground hog day is, quite simply (very simply), an event where some people look at a rodent and decide if spring is coming. Phil's new production manager Rita (Andy McDowell) is all bubbly and excited and tags along for the trip. Phil wakes up on the first morning to go and cover the event. As mornings go its pretty bad and Phil is keen for it to end. After Upsetting a few people (including Rita) and failing to escape the town, Phil goes to bed.
Phil Conners (Bill Murry) is a less than genial weather forecaster for a Pittsburgh based television country. Each year he gets to make the less than enjoyable trip to Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania to cover the Ground hog day festivities. Ground hog day is, quite simply (very simply), an event where some people look at a rodent and decide if spring is coming. Phil's new production manager Rita (Andy McDowell) is all bubbly and excited and tags along for the trip. Phil wakes up on the first morning to go and cover the event. As mornings go its pretty bad and Phil is keen for it to end. After Upsetting a few people (including Rita) and failing to escape the town, Phil goes to bed.
Friday, 22 October 2010
My Room (Sept 2010 - Present)
Today after learning about post-modernist approaches to story telling and narratives I decided to review the room where I will spend most (if I'm not studying too hard in the library) of the rest of my academic life. Now I would have taken pictures, but I don't have a camera and I think it is more fun to imagine the room (you could even send me in sketches of your imaginings).
Well lets start with a tour. Come in the front/back of our house (We use the back door as if it is the front and vice versa (well not really vice versa as we don't use the front door at all)) past the first of our many (well two) toilets along the laminate floor of the kitchen, through the worlds thinnest living room, up the carpeted stairs (I'm painting a visual image) and here we are.
As we open my door (inwards, as all good doors should) you will see that there is not a huge expanse in front of you. To your (and my) left you will find my bed, single (double duvet though. Plus a single duvet for my head or feet, depending on the mood of my extremities) and a bin. Now if you can crane your heads over to the right? (If you can't you may have to just have move your whole body, sorry) You will see a massive cupboard, in which everything lives; clothes, folders, that fuggy smell that hangs around student places. Just past the cupboard is where the magic happens. My desk, complete with chocolate wrappers, copious (lots of) empty (and half empty) coke cans, unread newspapers, lecture notes (scrawled and not revisited), a rather dandy pipe, messy CD (remember them?) collection and lastly, my desk top PC (for word processing and porn). Other things in my room are an (untouched) book shelf filled with academic texts and an (often visited) bookshelf of sci-fi and social-economics books (also a copy of gossip girl I inherited from the previous occupant), a base guitar (almost ten tracks known), a (very full) washing basket and a huge (in proportion to the rest of the room) window.
Well now you have some idea of how I live, work and (I cannot think of a third thing). Now if anyone is thinking that there is something missing from my account, well who am I to leave you hanging? (I am Owen) I will complete this almost terrifyingly vivid description, the carpet is beige.
So in conclusion, this room isn't for everyone and minors should be accompanied by a responsible adult if they do want to see it. It is a mixed bag of highs and lows, there are several very poignant areas and some quite brutal in their honest approach to student life. I think that this is a passable showing as it does nothing to glamorise the student life.
Our first image has arrived, if you think you can do better email me the image at owenjohnston88@msn.com.
Well lets start with a tour. Come in the front/back of our house (We use the back door as if it is the front and vice versa (well not really vice versa as we don't use the front door at all)) past the first of our many (well two) toilets along the laminate floor of the kitchen, through the worlds thinnest living room, up the carpeted stairs (I'm painting a visual image) and here we are.
As we open my door (inwards, as all good doors should) you will see that there is not a huge expanse in front of you. To your (and my) left you will find my bed, single (double duvet though. Plus a single duvet for my head or feet, depending on the mood of my extremities) and a bin. Now if you can crane your heads over to the right? (If you can't you may have to just have move your whole body, sorry) You will see a massive cupboard, in which everything lives; clothes, folders, that fuggy smell that hangs around student places. Just past the cupboard is where the magic happens. My desk, complete with chocolate wrappers, copious (lots of) empty (and half empty) coke cans, unread newspapers, lecture notes (scrawled and not revisited), a rather dandy pipe, messy CD (remember them?) collection and lastly, my desk top PC (for word processing and porn). Other things in my room are an (untouched) book shelf filled with academic texts and an (often visited) bookshelf of sci-fi and social-economics books (also a copy of gossip girl I inherited from the previous occupant), a base guitar (almost ten tracks known), a (very full) washing basket and a huge (in proportion to the rest of the room) window.
Well now you have some idea of how I live, work and (I cannot think of a third thing). Now if anyone is thinking that there is something missing from my account, well who am I to leave you hanging? (I am Owen) I will complete this almost terrifyingly vivid description, the carpet is beige.
So in conclusion, this room isn't for everyone and minors should be accompanied by a responsible adult if they do want to see it. It is a mixed bag of highs and lows, there are several very poignant areas and some quite brutal in their honest approach to student life. I think that this is a passable showing as it does nothing to glamorise the student life.
Our first image has arrived, if you think you can do better email me the image at owenjohnston88@msn.com.
This is from Peter Mullet (21) of Ipswich who says "When I grow up, I want fair and equitable treatment for the working man."
Wednesday, 20 October 2010
The Warriors (1979)
After the unpleasantness of my previous review I cheered myself up with a cult classic. The warriors is a prime example of a cult film, in so much that it essentially rubbish, but fun all the same.
As the opening credits roll, we see several groups of people congregating in a park (we also get some weird 70's psychedelic music, top stuff.) where the leader of New York's largest gang, Cyrus (Roger Hill) of the Gramercy Riffs, has assembled all of the city's gangs (inviting nine representatives from each) to a summit.
Cyrus has worked out that the gangs of New York (not the film) outnumber the the police of the city 3 to 1 and proposes that the gangs unite in order to run the city (Can you dig it? Suckers!) The majority of the gangs think this is a fantastic idea, but Luther (David Patrick Kelly, also the bad guy in 'The Crow') doesn't agree and shoots Cyrus in the chest. Cue a major ruckus, police turn up, everyone scrambles and Luther (in his wisdom) lays the blame squarely on the shoulders of a gang all the way from Coney Island, The Warriors. One of the gang members, Fox (Thomas G Waites, not David Duchovney), upon realising that, literally (not figurative in the slightest) every gang member in the city is after them, instructs his charges (fellow warriors) to run away. They oblige.
While the guys are regrouping in a subway station (they spend a lot of time in various train stations) the second in command of the Riffs, places a bounty on the warriors heads. And an (ethnic) woman (Lynne Thigpen, I wouldn't normally mention the real name of such a minor character but she makes the film the classic that it is), announces this coolly over the radio.
At the start of their journey back on the first (of many) trains, Ajax (James Remar) voices his desire to be warlord, but Swan (Michael Beck) successfully shoots him down, to become the alpha of the group. They slowly begin to weave their way through the streets and head towards home, narrowly avoiding the the police and a few minor gangs in converted school buses.
The first major (by which, I mean minor) obstacle the Warriors come up against is a small gang of scruffy youths, called the Orphans.These guys (and I'm trying my best to make them look good here) are awful, the Warriors ignore their threats and chuck a Molotov bomb at a nearby burnt out car. Orphans scatter and the Warriors amble on through. Lovely stuff. The warriors also manage to pick up a passenger in the form of Mercy (Deborah Van Valkenburgh), a (somewhat) slutty former member (and antagonist) of the Orphans.
Now, what should you not do at any point, in a situation, in any film? That's right, you should never split up (give yourself a pat on the back). And what they do? Yes they split up. But in their defense, they don't mean to. They are just not team players. Half the gang (including Mercy, I think) make it onto the next train (apart from Fox who gets run over), Swan and the other half are instead faced with some baseball players in heavy make up (cue, some 70's style fist fights). The warriors win, but not until some gang member get quite seriously winded (oh dear).
Mercy and her half of the gang, arrive at the station and instead of waiting around for the rest of the team to catch up the boys follow some girls back for drinks and, well, you know (sex). Every few minutes there is a radio update from the radio woman, and unfortunately she updates the Warriors progress while they are busy necking (kissing the necks of) their new girlfriends. Oh no, it was a trap. The girls are armed and dangerous a cut the boys up a bit. Meanwhile, the affable (well, not really. I just like alliteration) Ajax spots a woman alone in the park, and instead of continuing on his way home, stops. As he chats her up, he gets a bit hands on and finds himself arrested (undercover cop you see). That's the end of his film.
The group (minus Ajax and Fox) regroup and led (for some reason) by Mercy, they beat up some punks in a toilet. They then board the final train home and exhale with relief. Mercy then lets Swan and the other guys know about Fox (splat) and they tell her about Ajax (sex pest). They return to Coney Island at day break.
While all this has been going on Luther has been identified as the real gunman at the summit and the Warriors have been cleared. but before the Warriors can make it to safety they find the Rogues (Luther's gang, should have mentioned that earlier) waiting for them. The two gangs meet on the beach and have a classic (western-style) stand off. Luther then openly admits he killed Cyrus and has a bit of a giggle before pulling a shooter (his gun). Unfazed, Swan throws a knife into Luther's wrist, disarming him. Nice. Hundreds of Riffs (Cyrus's gang) then appear. Apologise to the Warriors for any inconvenience and take away those rotten Rouges. The DJ then informs the rest of the city of the events and plays a song for the Warriors. End of Film.
Boys will love it, girls will hate it, hermaphrodites have bigger issues to worry about. Thanks.
As the opening credits roll, we see several groups of people congregating in a park (we also get some weird 70's psychedelic music, top stuff.) where the leader of New York's largest gang, Cyrus (Roger Hill) of the Gramercy Riffs, has assembled all of the city's gangs (inviting nine representatives from each) to a summit.
Cyrus has worked out that the gangs of New York (not the film) outnumber the the police of the city 3 to 1 and proposes that the gangs unite in order to run the city (Can you dig it? Suckers!) The majority of the gangs think this is a fantastic idea, but Luther (David Patrick Kelly, also the bad guy in 'The Crow') doesn't agree and shoots Cyrus in the chest. Cue a major ruckus, police turn up, everyone scrambles and Luther (in his wisdom) lays the blame squarely on the shoulders of a gang all the way from Coney Island, The Warriors. One of the gang members, Fox (Thomas G Waites, not David Duchovney), upon realising that, literally (not figurative in the slightest) every gang member in the city is after them, instructs his charges (fellow warriors) to run away. They oblige.
While the guys are regrouping in a subway station (they spend a lot of time in various train stations) the second in command of the Riffs, places a bounty on the warriors heads. And an (ethnic) woman (Lynne Thigpen, I wouldn't normally mention the real name of such a minor character but she makes the film the classic that it is), announces this coolly over the radio.
At the start of their journey back on the first (of many) trains, Ajax (James Remar) voices his desire to be warlord, but Swan (Michael Beck) successfully shoots him down, to become the alpha of the group. They slowly begin to weave their way through the streets and head towards home, narrowly avoiding the the police and a few minor gangs in converted school buses.
The first major (by which, I mean minor) obstacle the Warriors come up against is a small gang of scruffy youths, called the Orphans.These guys (and I'm trying my best to make them look good here) are awful, the Warriors ignore their threats and chuck a Molotov bomb at a nearby burnt out car. Orphans scatter and the Warriors amble on through. Lovely stuff. The warriors also manage to pick up a passenger in the form of Mercy (Deborah Van Valkenburgh), a (somewhat) slutty former member (and antagonist) of the Orphans.
Now, what should you not do at any point, in a situation, in any film? That's right, you should never split up (give yourself a pat on the back). And what they do? Yes they split up. But in their defense, they don't mean to. They are just not team players. Half the gang (including Mercy, I think) make it onto the next train (apart from Fox who gets run over), Swan and the other half are instead faced with some baseball players in heavy make up (cue, some 70's style fist fights). The warriors win, but not until some gang member get quite seriously winded (oh dear).
Mercy and her half of the gang, arrive at the station and instead of waiting around for the rest of the team to catch up the boys follow some girls back for drinks and, well, you know (sex). Every few minutes there is a radio update from the radio woman, and unfortunately she updates the Warriors progress while they are busy necking (kissing the necks of) their new girlfriends. Oh no, it was a trap. The girls are armed and dangerous a cut the boys up a bit. Meanwhile, the affable (well, not really. I just like alliteration) Ajax spots a woman alone in the park, and instead of continuing on his way home, stops. As he chats her up, he gets a bit hands on and finds himself arrested (undercover cop you see). That's the end of his film.
The group (minus Ajax and Fox) regroup and led (for some reason) by Mercy, they beat up some punks in a toilet. They then board the final train home and exhale with relief. Mercy then lets Swan and the other guys know about Fox (splat) and they tell her about Ajax (sex pest). They return to Coney Island at day break.
While all this has been going on Luther has been identified as the real gunman at the summit and the Warriors have been cleared. but before the Warriors can make it to safety they find the Rogues (Luther's gang, should have mentioned that earlier) waiting for them. The two gangs meet on the beach and have a classic (western-style) stand off. Luther then openly admits he killed Cyrus and has a bit of a giggle before pulling a shooter (his gun). Unfazed, Swan throws a knife into Luther's wrist, disarming him. Nice. Hundreds of Riffs (Cyrus's gang) then appear. Apologise to the Warriors for any inconvenience and take away those rotten Rouges. The DJ then informs the rest of the city of the events and plays a song for the Warriors. End of Film.
Boys will love it, girls will hate it, hermaphrodites have bigger issues to worry about. Thanks.
The Butterfly Effect (2004)
I have become increasingly annoyed at myself for only reviewing films that I have enjoyed. So this time I am going to give you a a film that I had to endure as a teen so that my mate could 'get off' with his then girlfriend. This necessitated me re watching this car crash of a movie and I am less than happy about it.
I hate this film as it only works if you ignore the workings of its premise and it has Aston "Dude, where's my self respect/acting ability/personality?" Kutcher in it.
The film begins, with us meeting a young version of Evan Treborne (Aston "How does he get cast?" Kutcher) who then goes through some traumatic event and blacks out. Now I understand that any teen thriller needs an edgy troubled protagonist, but even at this early stage it seems laboured, hopefully things will improve. We see Evan go through all sorts of trauma's as he grows up, each time blacking out at the key moment (could there be something in this you ask?).
Evan is taken to a psychologist, as his mother is worried he may be mental (or whatever). The psychologist recommends that young Evan keep a journal in order to improve his memory and stop him from blacking out. So he does.
We meet Evan again as a college student, with the same group of friends he has always had. He is in his room and for some reason is reading through the journals he wrote as a child. And then, WHOOSH! in a blur of low end, barely groundbreaking special effects Evan finds himself back as a teenager, in the middle (believe or not) of one of his black outs. Evan has the power to change the future by altering what has happened in his past. When he returns to the present he finds the world is very different and not for the better! So he continually goes back in time finding himself, without limbs, in jail, with stigmata and so on. Unfortunately none of this makes any sense.
In one scene he is in jail and is trying to convince his cell mate that he can travel back in time. So (rather insensibly) he travels back to when he was six (or whatever) and pierces each of his hands with two bloody great spikes. Upon returning to his cell he shows his hands (now scarred) to his (Hispanic) cell mate. I do not know where to begin. If he travels back in time he affects the whole of the future not just a single event (hence 'the butterfly effect'!) and even if you ignore this (vital) portion of the farce that is this film, there is no way he would be able to carry on a narrative from a previous time-line. Again if you choose to ignore this (and for the purposes of properly revealing this shoddy hour and a half crap-fest for what it is, we will) he would have had those scarred hands from the age of six (or whatever) and this cell mate would see no difference in the man as Evan's hands would have been like that from the day he met him. This film upsets me.
Eventually we wind up at the end of the film. After realising what a waste of space he is (Evan, not Ashton) Evan creates a time line in which he is massively peripheral to his friends and family in order to make them happy (and it works, of course). Unfortunately that is not the end of it, if you were fortunate(?) enough to see the directors cut there is a slightly different (and just agitating) conclusion to the film.
Instead of removing himself from his loved ones, Evan decides to remove himself from everyone, everywhere (by killing himself as a fetus!). Again, he can only travel back in time through the journal, so unless he was able to write (and had suitable materials) months before his motor skills had developed (or he had even left the womb!), this is a (further) impossibility unto itself. He then uses said motor skills to wrap the umbilical cord around his neck, therefore cutting air off from his lungs. Oh no wait! He isn't yet using his lungs (as he is a fetus) and all his oxygen (along with everything else a growing boy needs) is provided via the umbilical cord, another irritating moment in a film that has plenty.
I hate this film. Do not watch it. Instead recommend it to Pastor Terry Jones to burn in place of the Koran.
I hate this film as it only works if you ignore the workings of its premise and it has Aston "Dude, where's my self respect/acting ability/personality?" Kutcher in it.
The film begins, with us meeting a young version of Evan Treborne (Aston "How does he get cast?" Kutcher) who then goes through some traumatic event and blacks out. Now I understand that any teen thriller needs an edgy troubled protagonist, but even at this early stage it seems laboured, hopefully things will improve. We see Evan go through all sorts of trauma's as he grows up, each time blacking out at the key moment (could there be something in this you ask?).
Evan is taken to a psychologist, as his mother is worried he may be mental (or whatever). The psychologist recommends that young Evan keep a journal in order to improve his memory and stop him from blacking out. So he does.
We meet Evan again as a college student, with the same group of friends he has always had. He is in his room and for some reason is reading through the journals he wrote as a child. And then, WHOOSH! in a blur of low end, barely groundbreaking special effects Evan finds himself back as a teenager, in the middle (believe or not) of one of his black outs. Evan has the power to change the future by altering what has happened in his past. When he returns to the present he finds the world is very different and not for the better! So he continually goes back in time finding himself, without limbs, in jail, with stigmata and so on. Unfortunately none of this makes any sense.
In one scene he is in jail and is trying to convince his cell mate that he can travel back in time. So (rather insensibly) he travels back to when he was six (or whatever) and pierces each of his hands with two bloody great spikes. Upon returning to his cell he shows his hands (now scarred) to his (Hispanic) cell mate. I do not know where to begin. If he travels back in time he affects the whole of the future not just a single event (hence 'the butterfly effect'!) and even if you ignore this (vital) portion of the farce that is this film, there is no way he would be able to carry on a narrative from a previous time-line. Again if you choose to ignore this (and for the purposes of properly revealing this shoddy hour and a half crap-fest for what it is, we will) he would have had those scarred hands from the age of six (or whatever) and this cell mate would see no difference in the man as Evan's hands would have been like that from the day he met him. This film upsets me.
Eventually we wind up at the end of the film. After realising what a waste of space he is (Evan, not Ashton) Evan creates a time line in which he is massively peripheral to his friends and family in order to make them happy (and it works, of course). Unfortunately that is not the end of it, if you were fortunate(?) enough to see the directors cut there is a slightly different (and just agitating) conclusion to the film.
Instead of removing himself from his loved ones, Evan decides to remove himself from everyone, everywhere (by killing himself as a fetus!). Again, he can only travel back in time through the journal, so unless he was able to write (and had suitable materials) months before his motor skills had developed (or he had even left the womb!), this is a (further) impossibility unto itself. He then uses said motor skills to wrap the umbilical cord around his neck, therefore cutting air off from his lungs. Oh no wait! He isn't yet using his lungs (as he is a fetus) and all his oxygen (along with everything else a growing boy needs) is provided via the umbilical cord, another irritating moment in a film that has plenty.
I hate this film. Do not watch it. Instead recommend it to Pastor Terry Jones to burn in place of the Koran.
Tuesday, 19 October 2010
π (1998)
Welcome to, yet another, movie review. My flat mate (upon returning from Nottingham) said to me, "Watch this film." So I have.
π, is the critically acclaimed brain child of Darren Aronfsky who not only wrote but also directed the feature. And before we get too far into it, I must say that I am glad I watched this during the day and I regret watching it on my own. Also this may be a long review as there is just so much to pack in.
π opens with some classic drum and base loops and monotone (the entire film is shot in black and white, so is great if you are trying to help a colour blind friend, colleague or relative feel at ease) swirls. We then cut to our protagonist, Max Cohen (Sean Gullette) in his rather dingy New York apartment. He is busy running his fingers through his hair and looking uncomfortable (much like Gene Wilders character, Leo Bloom, in 'The Producers'). He leaves his apartment after un-latching (not sure if this is good English) several locks on his door. Accosted by a young Asian girl (not that sort) he is asked several mathematical questions to which he answers instantaneously (thus establishing his main character role, maths guy). As he wanders around the streets and parks of New York, Max gives us (the viewers) his theory on how the entire world is subject to an (as yet) undiscovered algorithm and how everything is linked and thusly predictions can be made. He also tell us about how he stared at the sun as a child because his mother told him not to, this event seemed to play a large part in defining Max as a person.
Max, like all good geniuses, is a recluse and socially inept and flaunts this unashamedly at the begging of the film in order to help establish his character. Another defining feature of our Max is his crippling, nose bleed inducing hyper-headaches. Well that is pretty much all you need to know about Max, so lets move on.
Max receives a phone call upon arriving home from the park from an (obviously ethnic) woman who wants to meet him for lunch (apparently for business, that is down to the intuition of the viewer. Pretty obvious though), this sort of phone call obviously happens a lot. Suitably disgruntled Max hangs up. In order to remove that past antagonism from his memory, Max sits at his (massive, wire sprawling everywhere, very much home made) computer and works on his algorithm for working out the stock market (in order to prove his theories). It turns out that Max is not just a maths whizz, but the greatest mathematical mind of his generation. This is important.
Max has few friends, there is the (rather attractive) Indian woman who lives next door and likes to mother him a bit and his old maths mentor Sol Robeson (Mark Margolis, who has also appeared (albeit briefly) in the rather more light hearted (but equally important) Ace Ventura). Sol believes that Max is working too hard and should take a break, Sol himself having suffered a stroke (we assume fairly recently) and taking things easy. Max believes himself to be close and so carries on.
Max works on and on, becoming increasingly paranoid (or is he right to be concerned?) of those around him, until one day after suffering a (by his own standards) a pretty mild panic attack, in which he hears (pretty bloody explicit) sex noises coming from the adjacent room, he hits the return button on his keyboard and the system gives him a couple of results and the spazzes out (technical term) on him and dies. Max reacts less than well, (mis)reading the results on the print out as gibberish and binning them and the bizarre number that followed them in a bin miles from his own home (why not just stick it in the kitchen bin, I do not know). He then sulks off back to Sol for a cuddle (or whatever). Sol seems surprisingly interested and quizzes Max on the bizarre gobeldie gook number that had followed the bizarre gobeldie gook results. He then tells Max that he really does need to stop. Max shouts like a deaf man trying to explain himself to a mute and sulks off home.
While ridding the tube home, Max sees some odd things and people who may or may not be there (these instances increase as the film progresses) and discovered that the way out nonsense his computer fired out in a final desperate act to preserve its own legacy, was, in fact brilliant! He desperately hunts through the rubbish where he had dumped the information earlier, but to no avail.
While this has been happening, the (ethnic) woman, representing a rather shady company, has become increasingly more aggressive (although still polite) in her attempts to get in touch with and hire Max. He rebuffs these offers claiming to have no interest in material wealth. He has also had several casual meetings with a devout Jew, name of Lenny Meyer (Ben Shenkman), who has interested Max in the mathematical properties of the Torah (Jewish pre-bible).
The (ethnic) woman approaches Max once more and instead of offering (cold, hard) cash she offers him a (still classified) micro chip in order to help him further his work. After a great deal of thought he decides to take it and agrees to do some "work" for this (ethnic) woman's company.
After getting really annoyed with Sol for being so close-minded and for giving up on maths (oh, how could he? rhetoric.) he agrees to help the Jews with there quest to find the meaning in the Torah. The reason to help these religious zealots? A 216 digit long number that he can link to the crashing of his computer (and Sol mentioned it also).
But now the film gets heavy (as if it wasn't already), Panic attacks increasing and headaches doing more and more damage (a combination of the two result in a rather drastic haircut). Max discovers the secret and horrible properties of this fantastic number, He gets beaten up by the (ethnic) woman, bullied by the Jews and Sol tells him how the number makes computers self aware. All this knowledge is driving Max absolutely mental, so he takes the only sane option and drills into head until the maths is gone.
As I said before do not watch this film on your own and you may want to have a pen and pad close to hand to take notes (it really is quite interesting). If you don't question things upon viewing this you either have missed the point or are so completely contented with your own life that any sort of inquisition would affect your mood detrimentally.
In closing, this film is a must see.
π, is the critically acclaimed brain child of Darren Aronfsky who not only wrote but also directed the feature. And before we get too far into it, I must say that I am glad I watched this during the day and I regret watching it on my own. Also this may be a long review as there is just so much to pack in.
π opens with some classic drum and base loops and monotone (the entire film is shot in black and white, so is great if you are trying to help a colour blind friend, colleague or relative feel at ease) swirls. We then cut to our protagonist, Max Cohen (Sean Gullette) in his rather dingy New York apartment. He is busy running his fingers through his hair and looking uncomfortable (much like Gene Wilders character, Leo Bloom, in 'The Producers'). He leaves his apartment after un-latching (not sure if this is good English) several locks on his door. Accosted by a young Asian girl (not that sort) he is asked several mathematical questions to which he answers instantaneously (thus establishing his main character role, maths guy). As he wanders around the streets and parks of New York, Max gives us (the viewers) his theory on how the entire world is subject to an (as yet) undiscovered algorithm and how everything is linked and thusly predictions can be made. He also tell us about how he stared at the sun as a child because his mother told him not to, this event seemed to play a large part in defining Max as a person.
Max, like all good geniuses, is a recluse and socially inept and flaunts this unashamedly at the begging of the film in order to help establish his character. Another defining feature of our Max is his crippling, nose bleed inducing hyper-headaches. Well that is pretty much all you need to know about Max, so lets move on.
Max receives a phone call upon arriving home from the park from an (obviously ethnic) woman who wants to meet him for lunch (apparently for business, that is down to the intuition of the viewer. Pretty obvious though), this sort of phone call obviously happens a lot. Suitably disgruntled Max hangs up. In order to remove that past antagonism from his memory, Max sits at his (massive, wire sprawling everywhere, very much home made) computer and works on his algorithm for working out the stock market (in order to prove his theories). It turns out that Max is not just a maths whizz, but the greatest mathematical mind of his generation. This is important.
Max has few friends, there is the (rather attractive) Indian woman who lives next door and likes to mother him a bit and his old maths mentor Sol Robeson (Mark Margolis, who has also appeared (albeit briefly) in the rather more light hearted (but equally important) Ace Ventura). Sol believes that Max is working too hard and should take a break, Sol himself having suffered a stroke (we assume fairly recently) and taking things easy. Max believes himself to be close and so carries on.
Max works on and on, becoming increasingly paranoid (or is he right to be concerned?) of those around him, until one day after suffering a (by his own standards) a pretty mild panic attack, in which he hears (pretty bloody explicit) sex noises coming from the adjacent room, he hits the return button on his keyboard and the system gives him a couple of results and the spazzes out (technical term) on him and dies. Max reacts less than well, (mis)reading the results on the print out as gibberish and binning them and the bizarre number that followed them in a bin miles from his own home (why not just stick it in the kitchen bin, I do not know). He then sulks off back to Sol for a cuddle (or whatever). Sol seems surprisingly interested and quizzes Max on the bizarre gobeldie gook number that had followed the bizarre gobeldie gook results. He then tells Max that he really does need to stop. Max shouts like a deaf man trying to explain himself to a mute and sulks off home.
While ridding the tube home, Max sees some odd things and people who may or may not be there (these instances increase as the film progresses) and discovered that the way out nonsense his computer fired out in a final desperate act to preserve its own legacy, was, in fact brilliant! He desperately hunts through the rubbish where he had dumped the information earlier, but to no avail.
While this has been happening, the (ethnic) woman, representing a rather shady company, has become increasingly more aggressive (although still polite) in her attempts to get in touch with and hire Max. He rebuffs these offers claiming to have no interest in material wealth. He has also had several casual meetings with a devout Jew, name of Lenny Meyer (Ben Shenkman), who has interested Max in the mathematical properties of the Torah (Jewish pre-bible).
The (ethnic) woman approaches Max once more and instead of offering (cold, hard) cash she offers him a (still classified) micro chip in order to help him further his work. After a great deal of thought he decides to take it and agrees to do some "work" for this (ethnic) woman's company.
After getting really annoyed with Sol for being so close-minded and for giving up on maths (oh, how could he? rhetoric.) he agrees to help the Jews with there quest to find the meaning in the Torah. The reason to help these religious zealots? A 216 digit long number that he can link to the crashing of his computer (and Sol mentioned it also).
But now the film gets heavy (as if it wasn't already), Panic attacks increasing and headaches doing more and more damage (a combination of the two result in a rather drastic haircut). Max discovers the secret and horrible properties of this fantastic number, He gets beaten up by the (ethnic) woman, bullied by the Jews and Sol tells him how the number makes computers self aware. All this knowledge is driving Max absolutely mental, so he takes the only sane option and drills into head until the maths is gone.
As I said before do not watch this film on your own and you may want to have a pen and pad close to hand to take notes (it really is quite interesting). If you don't question things upon viewing this you either have missed the point or are so completely contented with your own life that any sort of inquisition would affect your mood detrimentally.
In closing, this film is a must see.
Cool Runnings (1993)
As a reward for getting all my work done today I watched Cool Runnings and as a positive externality of that decision, you get to read about it.
Cool Runnings is loosely based on an actual Bobsled team from Jamaica, who turned up did poorly, improved a little and ultimately failed.
So now that I have managed to explain the entire film in just one (compound) sentence, we can delve into the intricacies of the plot.
We start in Sunny Jamaica, were a group of promising young sprinters ready to start one of their national qualifiers. They line up. The starting pistol is fired. The young men head off speedily and tightly grouped. And they're down. Collapsed into an angry heap, all possible glory now just a fleeting memory (mammary?). And who was the culprit behind this? Junior Bevil (Rawle D Lewis) the posh bankers son who has tripped Derice Bannock (Leon Robinson, also of Cliffhanger fame), Sanka Coffie (Doug E Doug) and (a very scary) Yul Brenner (Malik Yoba). Yul takes (rather unsurprisingly) an instant dislike to Junior.
Dejected and bored, the guys just wander about for a bit. Then Derice has an idea! They approach a fat man in a local bar (that isn't the whole idea), but this isn't just any fat man. No, it's John Candy (the man that made fat not only acceptable, but also bearable). Irving 'Irv' Blitzer (John Candy) is a former (disgraced) Bobsled champion from the 70's (or whenever) who is now living on the island as a bookie. After a little coaxing from Derice (and some silly faces from Sanka) 'Irv' agrees to coach the team, on the proviso that they can actually get one.
Derice and Sanka invite other runners who failed to make it to the Olympics to meet and join the team. At the meeting 'Irv' gives a talk on the dangers of their new sport and shows a brief video. By the time the video has run its course there is virtually no one left in the room (furthering the stereotype that Jamaicans do not understand, and are fearful of, consumer electronics). The two (other than Derice and Sanka. I'm not including the human tent that is John Candy in this either) left are (rather predictably) Junior and Yul. After quick bitch from Yul about how Junior is a bit soft, they form a team.
Oh me, oh my is that a group of young black men running around Jamaica in a (hastily) converted pig trough, while a big fat man ('Irv', for it is he) looks at a watch and shouts? Yes.
Next issue, funding. The narrative has established that the boys can probably do it, but the mayor of Jamaica (or whatever) is all like, "No way", "What's the point? We don't even have ice!" and "I have more to do today than allocate funds to various sporting teams, please leave". Valiantly (or whatever) the team refuse to give up and go on a funding montage. People laugh at them, Sanka 'raps' (wraps?) and some other stuff happens. They all meet up and find through all their hard work, they have achieved virtually nothing. Oh, and then Junior sells his fancy motor (and the rest of the car) and they have enough. Great.
So off they go, to sunny (well, snowy) Calgary, Alberta. They make a few jokes about how cold it is (because they're not used to it and contrast comedy is always funny), meet some of the other teams (including the evil Swiss, more of them later) and then go for a drink.
While drinking (and line dancing) they manage to get into a fight with the Swiss, but this is a good thing as Yul and Junior learn to work together and stuff (by shouting at a mirror).
This bit isn't hugely important, we get to meet Sanka's egg (we may have met it before, not sure) and there is a great montage (with the classic track, 'Rise Above It' by Lock, Stock and Barrel) with all the guys running around in the snow, in the gym and probably somewhere else to (these things work in threes). The the night before qualifying, we see Derice sat in the bath lurching from side to side while he stares at the taps (faucet, to our American friends, of which there are many). 'Irv' talks to him and they look serious.
Qualification comes, they make it.
But the trouble isn't over, 'Irv' (the coach) has a lifetime ban from the sport, and the board (worried about how the presence of blacks may affect future revenues) tell him that his team can't compete, despite hitting the qualifying time, because he was such a massive cheating shit. 'Irv' says this isn't fair and then the board agrees. Surely it will be plain sailing from here on out.
Well, no. After impressing in their first few outings, having a sing and a dance and making fun of Juniors mothers name (Tallulah) the Swiss get angry. On the final day of the tournament, when Jamaican fever is gripping the entire crowd (it's not an actual fever) the (evil) Swiss captain kicks a lump out of (or something to that effect) the Jamaican Bobsled (Cool Runnings, hence the name of the film). The guys don't notice and crash (They even use real footage of the actual Jamaican Bobsled team from 1988, fact).The get up and march to the end of the track, carrying their Bobsled, with their (fractured?) heads held high. Even the (evil) Swiss guys applauds them (which is a bit rich, to be honest). They return home as heroes, film ends.
In Summary, this is a good film to keep the kids (children, not goats!) quiet and has the capacity to inspire even you to do greater things with your life (although it won't).
Cool Runnings is loosely based on an actual Bobsled team from Jamaica, who turned up did poorly, improved a little and ultimately failed.
So now that I have managed to explain the entire film in just one (compound) sentence, we can delve into the intricacies of the plot.
We start in Sunny Jamaica, were a group of promising young sprinters ready to start one of their national qualifiers. They line up. The starting pistol is fired. The young men head off speedily and tightly grouped. And they're down. Collapsed into an angry heap, all possible glory now just a fleeting memory (mammary?). And who was the culprit behind this? Junior Bevil (Rawle D Lewis) the posh bankers son who has tripped Derice Bannock (Leon Robinson, also of Cliffhanger fame), Sanka Coffie (Doug E Doug) and (a very scary) Yul Brenner (Malik Yoba). Yul takes (rather unsurprisingly) an instant dislike to Junior.
Dejected and bored, the guys just wander about for a bit. Then Derice has an idea! They approach a fat man in a local bar (that isn't the whole idea), but this isn't just any fat man. No, it's John Candy (the man that made fat not only acceptable, but also bearable). Irving 'Irv' Blitzer (John Candy) is a former (disgraced) Bobsled champion from the 70's (or whenever) who is now living on the island as a bookie. After a little coaxing from Derice (and some silly faces from Sanka) 'Irv' agrees to coach the team, on the proviso that they can actually get one.
Derice and Sanka invite other runners who failed to make it to the Olympics to meet and join the team. At the meeting 'Irv' gives a talk on the dangers of their new sport and shows a brief video. By the time the video has run its course there is virtually no one left in the room (furthering the stereotype that Jamaicans do not understand, and are fearful of, consumer electronics). The two (other than Derice and Sanka. I'm not including the human tent that is John Candy in this either) left are (rather predictably) Junior and Yul. After quick bitch from Yul about how Junior is a bit soft, they form a team.
Oh me, oh my is that a group of young black men running around Jamaica in a (hastily) converted pig trough, while a big fat man ('Irv', for it is he) looks at a watch and shouts? Yes.
Next issue, funding. The narrative has established that the boys can probably do it, but the mayor of Jamaica (or whatever) is all like, "No way", "What's the point? We don't even have ice!" and "I have more to do today than allocate funds to various sporting teams, please leave". Valiantly (or whatever) the team refuse to give up and go on a funding montage. People laugh at them, Sanka 'raps' (wraps?) and some other stuff happens. They all meet up and find through all their hard work, they have achieved virtually nothing. Oh, and then Junior sells his fancy motor (and the rest of the car) and they have enough. Great.
So off they go, to sunny (well, snowy) Calgary, Alberta. They make a few jokes about how cold it is (because they're not used to it and contrast comedy is always funny), meet some of the other teams (including the evil Swiss, more of them later) and then go for a drink.
While drinking (and line dancing) they manage to get into a fight with the Swiss, but this is a good thing as Yul and Junior learn to work together and stuff (by shouting at a mirror).
This bit isn't hugely important, we get to meet Sanka's egg (we may have met it before, not sure) and there is a great montage (with the classic track, 'Rise Above It' by Lock, Stock and Barrel) with all the guys running around in the snow, in the gym and probably somewhere else to (these things work in threes). The the night before qualifying, we see Derice sat in the bath lurching from side to side while he stares at the taps (faucet, to our American friends, of which there are many). 'Irv' talks to him and they look serious.
Qualification comes, they make it.
But the trouble isn't over, 'Irv' (the coach) has a lifetime ban from the sport, and the board (worried about how the presence of blacks may affect future revenues) tell him that his team can't compete, despite hitting the qualifying time, because he was such a massive cheating shit. 'Irv' says this isn't fair and then the board agrees. Surely it will be plain sailing from here on out.
Well, no. After impressing in their first few outings, having a sing and a dance and making fun of Juniors mothers name (Tallulah) the Swiss get angry. On the final day of the tournament, when Jamaican fever is gripping the entire crowd (it's not an actual fever) the (evil) Swiss captain kicks a lump out of (or something to that effect) the Jamaican Bobsled (Cool Runnings, hence the name of the film). The guys don't notice and crash (They even use real footage of the actual Jamaican Bobsled team from 1988, fact).The get up and march to the end of the track, carrying their Bobsled, with their (fractured?) heads held high. Even the (evil) Swiss guys applauds them (which is a bit rich, to be honest). They return home as heroes, film ends.
In Summary, this is a good film to keep the kids (children, not goats!) quiet and has the capacity to inspire even you to do greater things with your life (although it won't).
Monday, 18 October 2010
Tron (1982)
It's another slow day, so lucky you, another review. Given that Tron legacy will be in the cinema shortly I thought that it would be prudent to recap on the original.
If you like weak film premises, this is the Disney classic for you. Tron was essentially an excuse for Disney to try out all their cutting edge technology (a bit like the US in Vietnam. Controversial). This in mind, cast yourself back into the year 1982. It was the year King Fahd came to the throne of Saudi Arabia, Jean-Loup Chretien was the first French man in space, Princes Grace of Monaco died when her car hurtled off a cliff and many more unforgettable events. But more importantly everyone was going crazy for computers and Tron looked to cash in on this.
Kevin Flynn (played by the delicious Jeff Bridges) is a twenty something computer programmer who has been black-balled (marginalised) at the company he works for by, all round bastard, Ed Dillinger (David Warner). Dillinger takes credit for all of Flynn's work, earning himself several wondrous promotions and resigning Flynn to the scrap heap (metaphor). An increasingly indignant Flynn decides to hack into his company's mainframe (it's a technical term, you wouldn't understand) in order to expose Dillinger for the (all round) bastard that he is, long story short, Dillinger thwarts (stops) him. Unperturbed (look it up) Flynn tries again, this time with the help of another co-worker (a nice one, with a girlfriend), and gets into some sort of basement laser laboratory (with thousands of grey pipes!) where the company have been busy turning real things into digital things (for some reason). Low and behold, something goes wrong, for some reason or another Flynn is sucked into the computer.
This is where the film really picks up, going from ordinary visual to a less whacked out version of inside the monolith in 2001: A Space Odyssey (a bit like if everything was made of Neon and it was always night time).
Flynn (in a truly fantastic glowing jump suit and a helmet much like the ones you see less intellectually agile children in) is near instantly captured in this digital world and taken to a holding cell.
There are several other characters entering the narrative at this point, but to be honest most of them do not need names. You need to know Sark, who looks like Dillinger and is a (all round) bastard and Tron, who looks like that other guy with the girlfriend and also has a girlfriend that looks like that guys girlfriend. Got it? Great.
Flynn (still in that cell, or round abouts) find himself in the middle of some quasi-religious power struggle, between the followers of the users (the good guys, they make documents open when we click on them) and the followers of the MCP (its like a self aware computer thing that think people are a waste of time). At the moment, as in any film worth its salt, the good guys are down on their luck, getting imprisoned and being forced to fight to the death (pretty standard stuff). So Sark (bad guy) offers each of the prisoners a chance to join the winning team of fight to the death with Frisbees. Flynn, as a rational person, chooses the Frisbee.
This game is one of the highlights of the movie. Two players, each with a disc and panels on the floor that erode if said disc hits them. Each player takes it in turns to twat their disc at the opponent. Not really worth describing it blow for blow, so I won't. Flynn wins, other guy 'de-rezzed' (killed, essentially).
Now Flynn meets Tron and runs off (somehow) and Sark sends some bricker-brack after the two of them (and also Tron's girlfriend a bit). They have all sorts of adventures, be they sailing on beams of light, blowing chunks out of poorly design tanks or (my favourite, also probably everyone's favourite, sorry to be so trite) killing bad guys on motor bikes with your own motor bike's digital snail trail.
Eventually they make it to the MCP (big, scary computer) and after they are done looking at just how poor the animation is in this part of the film compared to the rest, blow it up a bit and all the world turns blue again (blue is a good thing, it was all red and evil before, probably should have mentioned that earlier). Then Flynn is sent back to the real world (for some reason) where all of Dillinger's (remember him?) wrong doings are printing out loudly on a dot matrix. All is well in the end... Ah, Disney.
In summary, great film if you like bright colours and non-sensical plot developments. If you like a carefully constructed narrative and believable characters and a bit of gore (rather than just strobe lighting when people/files die) this is not for you.
Well, that is it for today, if you have any suggestions for films that you think I should review, just let me know.
If you like weak film premises, this is the Disney classic for you. Tron was essentially an excuse for Disney to try out all their cutting edge technology (a bit like the US in Vietnam. Controversial). This in mind, cast yourself back into the year 1982. It was the year King Fahd came to the throne of Saudi Arabia, Jean-Loup Chretien was the first French man in space, Princes Grace of Monaco died when her car hurtled off a cliff and many more unforgettable events. But more importantly everyone was going crazy for computers and Tron looked to cash in on this.
Kevin Flynn (played by the delicious Jeff Bridges) is a twenty something computer programmer who has been black-balled (marginalised) at the company he works for by, all round bastard, Ed Dillinger (David Warner). Dillinger takes credit for all of Flynn's work, earning himself several wondrous promotions and resigning Flynn to the scrap heap (metaphor). An increasingly indignant Flynn decides to hack into his company's mainframe (it's a technical term, you wouldn't understand) in order to expose Dillinger for the (all round) bastard that he is, long story short, Dillinger thwarts (stops) him. Unperturbed (look it up) Flynn tries again, this time with the help of another co-worker (a nice one, with a girlfriend), and gets into some sort of basement laser laboratory (with thousands of grey pipes!) where the company have been busy turning real things into digital things (for some reason). Low and behold, something goes wrong, for some reason or another Flynn is sucked into the computer.
This is where the film really picks up, going from ordinary visual to a less whacked out version of inside the monolith in 2001: A Space Odyssey (a bit like if everything was made of Neon and it was always night time).
Flynn (in a truly fantastic glowing jump suit and a helmet much like the ones you see less intellectually agile children in) is near instantly captured in this digital world and taken to a holding cell.
There are several other characters entering the narrative at this point, but to be honest most of them do not need names. You need to know Sark, who looks like Dillinger and is a (all round) bastard and Tron, who looks like that other guy with the girlfriend and also has a girlfriend that looks like that guys girlfriend. Got it? Great.
Flynn (still in that cell, or round abouts) find himself in the middle of some quasi-religious power struggle, between the followers of the users (the good guys, they make documents open when we click on them) and the followers of the MCP (its like a self aware computer thing that think people are a waste of time). At the moment, as in any film worth its salt, the good guys are down on their luck, getting imprisoned and being forced to fight to the death (pretty standard stuff). So Sark (bad guy) offers each of the prisoners a chance to join the winning team of fight to the death with Frisbees. Flynn, as a rational person, chooses the Frisbee.
This game is one of the highlights of the movie. Two players, each with a disc and panels on the floor that erode if said disc hits them. Each player takes it in turns to twat their disc at the opponent. Not really worth describing it blow for blow, so I won't. Flynn wins, other guy 'de-rezzed' (killed, essentially).
Now Flynn meets Tron and runs off (somehow) and Sark sends some bricker-brack after the two of them (and also Tron's girlfriend a bit). They have all sorts of adventures, be they sailing on beams of light, blowing chunks out of poorly design tanks or (my favourite, also probably everyone's favourite, sorry to be so trite) killing bad guys on motor bikes with your own motor bike's digital snail trail.
Eventually they make it to the MCP (big, scary computer) and after they are done looking at just how poor the animation is in this part of the film compared to the rest, blow it up a bit and all the world turns blue again (blue is a good thing, it was all red and evil before, probably should have mentioned that earlier). Then Flynn is sent back to the real world (for some reason) where all of Dillinger's (remember him?) wrong doings are printing out loudly on a dot matrix. All is well in the end... Ah, Disney.
In summary, great film if you like bright colours and non-sensical plot developments. If you like a carefully constructed narrative and believable characters and a bit of gore (rather than just strobe lighting when people/files die) this is not for you.
Well, that is it for today, if you have any suggestions for films that you think I should review, just let me know.
Sunday, 17 October 2010
Soylent Green (1973)
Greetings, this blog is not going to be anything special, just a means of which to waste time. I will simply be reviewing films and television that I have recently watched. There will be spoilers, you have been warned.
Since moving to Lincoln and finding myself in a house of geeky young men (and one angry, angry young lady) I have found myself exposed to a lot of Star Trek (especially Deep Space 9) and Sci-Fi novels (Asimov's fantastic Foundation series). I can tell that you are already gripped by the subject matter, but wait, it gets better. I have decided to work my way through some classic Sci-Fi, Horror and generally neglected films and imbue you with knowledge of them. This first offering is one of my favourites, Charlton Heston's Soylent Green.
For anyone that doesn't know the premise of the film, you are in for a treat and a shocking ending (lessened by my omission of its shock factor, sorry). The year is 2022 (although it may as well be anything 50 or more years into the future from 1973, just enough time for society to collapse into a horrible dystopian future.) and the earth is moribund (dead or dying, you decide!). It also happens to be overcrowded, although only on stairwells and in churches. There is enough room to swing a cat (or even a tiger, not that you'd want to) everywhere else. Ty Thorn (Charlton Heston) is a future cop, in future New York, with a suitably futuristic name. He lives in what appears to be a high rise shack with an old Jew. Hysterical, you think. No. The old Jew, Solomon 'Sol' Roth (Edward G Robinson) Just moans about everything you could imagine (it's the 70's, stereotypes are fine). One of his major gripes is also the driving force behind the films narrative (convenient), food.
As we have already touched on the Earth is dying (or dead) and there are far too many people shuffling about. As a result of this poor planning (because that is what it boils down to) there is no food (except for the ultra rich). "But what do they eat?" You implore. Patience, I'm getting to that. Through the wonders (blunders? There may be a message here) of science, food can be synthesised out of plankton and other rubbish like, I don't know, plastic bottles. The food is called Soylent Red and Soylent Yellow (I know the film is called Soylent Green, I'm getting to that), but the food is gritty and tasteless. The masses manage to muster up enough energy, despite their lack of shelter and sustenance to complain about this awful, awful food. Miraculously, there is a new Soylent on the market that is a taste bonanza, and the dregs cannot get enough of it. It's name (you've guessed it) Solent Green!
Ty Thorn, future cop, finds himself investigating a suspicious murder at a fancy residence in the fancy part of town. The deceased (dead guy) was a member of the Soylent board of directors. After stealing his food (he had real food), his soap (real soap), having sex with his furniture (this sounds odd, but in the future all of the super rich have live in sex workers known as furniture. Sorry I know that this is not as fun) and taking a shower (he had hot water too!) Ty stumbles upon (well not really, he sees them on a shelf) a couple of books titled, Soylent Oceanographic Survey Report, 2015 to 2019, his heart palpitating and his trousers moistening with child like excitement (lord knows why) he rushes the books back to 'Sol' (reading books seems to be his job).
Next 'Sol' Seems to get very excited, him and Ty have some sort of menage et trois with the food Ty stole from that corpse that I mentioned earlier and then Ty goes to work (his boss is black, how futuristic is that?!). His black boss warns him off the Soylent case, because it could lead him down some dark alleys, but Ty being the loose canon that he is ignores this less than friendly warning.
After that fantastic meal, 'Sol' decides that he has had enough and kills himself. He goes to a euthanasia clinic that looks suspiciously like and international airport and dies listening to music and watching deer and flowers of a giant screen (Imax?) whilst laying on a bed that looks like it has been constructed from Duplo. Ty catches up to him just in time to wave good bye and then for some reason (I suppose it's a hunch, but the film neglects to give us that information) hunts after 'Sol's corpse as it is hastily chucked in to what appears to be a rubbish truck and whisked to an out of town factory (complete with thousands of grey pipes!). this bit takes forever, go and make a cup of tea or something because once 'Sol' dies, you really are missing nothing. After running into, and then killing two guards (who for no good reason chose not to sound the alarm, probably just two cocky young men eager to prove their worth) he discovers the terrible secret behind Soylent Green.
At this point loads of other guards turn up and chase Ty into a (crowded) church, they have a classic 70's style fist fight (there are plenty in the movie) and Ty eventually edges it. As he is carried away all broken and bloodied he shoots an arm into the air and declares "Solent Green is people!" (or something to this effect, I'm not going to put the DVD on just to make sure I've gotten that line right.) Then the film ends in the oddest way possible (I won't ruin it for you, but lets just say there is a narrowing of the picture, a freeze framing and some interesting colour and music choices).
In summary, its a great film if you're into that sort of thing (plot holes, cheesy fight scenes and the fact that Charlton Heston doesn't even pretend to be in shape), otherwise ignore it.
Well that is it for my first rambling post. Any feedback welcome and if anyone has any idea what to get my mother for her 50th birthday, do let me know.
Since moving to Lincoln and finding myself in a house of geeky young men (and one angry, angry young lady) I have found myself exposed to a lot of Star Trek (especially Deep Space 9) and Sci-Fi novels (Asimov's fantastic Foundation series). I can tell that you are already gripped by the subject matter, but wait, it gets better. I have decided to work my way through some classic Sci-Fi, Horror and generally neglected films and imbue you with knowledge of them. This first offering is one of my favourites, Charlton Heston's Soylent Green.
For anyone that doesn't know the premise of the film, you are in for a treat and a shocking ending (lessened by my omission of its shock factor, sorry). The year is 2022 (although it may as well be anything 50 or more years into the future from 1973, just enough time for society to collapse into a horrible dystopian future.) and the earth is moribund (dead or dying, you decide!). It also happens to be overcrowded, although only on stairwells and in churches. There is enough room to swing a cat (or even a tiger, not that you'd want to) everywhere else. Ty Thorn (Charlton Heston) is a future cop, in future New York, with a suitably futuristic name. He lives in what appears to be a high rise shack with an old Jew. Hysterical, you think. No. The old Jew, Solomon 'Sol' Roth (Edward G Robinson) Just moans about everything you could imagine (it's the 70's, stereotypes are fine). One of his major gripes is also the driving force behind the films narrative (convenient), food.
As we have already touched on the Earth is dying (or dead) and there are far too many people shuffling about. As a result of this poor planning (because that is what it boils down to) there is no food (except for the ultra rich). "But what do they eat?" You implore. Patience, I'm getting to that. Through the wonders (blunders? There may be a message here) of science, food can be synthesised out of plankton and other rubbish like, I don't know, plastic bottles. The food is called Soylent Red and Soylent Yellow (I know the film is called Soylent Green, I'm getting to that), but the food is gritty and tasteless. The masses manage to muster up enough energy, despite their lack of shelter and sustenance to complain about this awful, awful food. Miraculously, there is a new Soylent on the market that is a taste bonanza, and the dregs cannot get enough of it. It's name (you've guessed it) Solent Green!
Ty Thorn, future cop, finds himself investigating a suspicious murder at a fancy residence in the fancy part of town. The deceased (dead guy) was a member of the Soylent board of directors. After stealing his food (he had real food), his soap (real soap), having sex with his furniture (this sounds odd, but in the future all of the super rich have live in sex workers known as furniture. Sorry I know that this is not as fun) and taking a shower (he had hot water too!) Ty stumbles upon (well not really, he sees them on a shelf) a couple of books titled, Soylent Oceanographic Survey Report, 2015 to 2019, his heart palpitating and his trousers moistening with child like excitement (lord knows why) he rushes the books back to 'Sol' (reading books seems to be his job).
Next 'Sol' Seems to get very excited, him and Ty have some sort of menage et trois with the food Ty stole from that corpse that I mentioned earlier and then Ty goes to work (his boss is black, how futuristic is that?!). His black boss warns him off the Soylent case, because it could lead him down some dark alleys, but Ty being the loose canon that he is ignores this less than friendly warning.
After that fantastic meal, 'Sol' decides that he has had enough and kills himself. He goes to a euthanasia clinic that looks suspiciously like and international airport and dies listening to music and watching deer and flowers of a giant screen (Imax?) whilst laying on a bed that looks like it has been constructed from Duplo. Ty catches up to him just in time to wave good bye and then for some reason (I suppose it's a hunch, but the film neglects to give us that information) hunts after 'Sol's corpse as it is hastily chucked in to what appears to be a rubbish truck and whisked to an out of town factory (complete with thousands of grey pipes!). this bit takes forever, go and make a cup of tea or something because once 'Sol' dies, you really are missing nothing. After running into, and then killing two guards (who for no good reason chose not to sound the alarm, probably just two cocky young men eager to prove their worth) he discovers the terrible secret behind Soylent Green.
At this point loads of other guards turn up and chase Ty into a (crowded) church, they have a classic 70's style fist fight (there are plenty in the movie) and Ty eventually edges it. As he is carried away all broken and bloodied he shoots an arm into the air and declares "Solent Green is people!" (or something to this effect, I'm not going to put the DVD on just to make sure I've gotten that line right.) Then the film ends in the oddest way possible (I won't ruin it for you, but lets just say there is a narrowing of the picture, a freeze framing and some interesting colour and music choices).
In summary, its a great film if you're into that sort of thing (plot holes, cheesy fight scenes and the fact that Charlton Heston doesn't even pretend to be in shape), otherwise ignore it.
Well that is it for my first rambling post. Any feedback welcome and if anyone has any idea what to get my mother for her 50th birthday, do let me know.
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