Online news sources are reporting that the actress Brittany Murphy has died, following a full cardiac arrest. She was 32. Obviously I'm hoping this news isn't true, but I guess we'll find out more tomorrow. I can't pretend to be familiar with every entry on her extensive filmography, but she did some fantastic work in Clueless, which remains a classic teen rom-com, and is always a fun watch. She was also very funny in Drop Dead Gorgeous and Freeway, not to mention the hundreds and hundreds of King of the Hill episodes she voiced, as Luanne.
This is just horrible news... and right before the holidays too... my heart goes out to her friends and family.
]]>Hmmm... what to make of that? At times it felt a little too monster-of-the-week-y, and barely touched on the major “elephant in the room” (or corpses in the store room, if you like) of the main series arc. Again, the action was largely confined to the community centre, which I guess is a necessary evil of budget constraints, but it often feels as if the characters are trapped in a tiny bubble of unreality, cut-off from the wider world (like, if they ever tried to leave town, they’d just find a Silent Hill-esque wall of fog). I mean, when established parental characters aren’t seen at their own child’s funeral, then you have to wonder what’s going on. As a result the cliff-hanger left me a bit underwhelmed... but not in a bitter way. I just wish they had the money to make more episodes, on a slightly large scale, and really flesh out the world around the characters. At least we got some sort of resolution over what Nathan’s power might be, although the opening credit sequence suggests there’s still more to him than meets the eye. Thankfully there’s news on the E4 site that a second series has been commissioned, so there’s potential for growth there, fingers crossed. Meanwhile, it was weird seeing Kelly without so much make-up on... she looked so young! I was slightly disturbed to discover that the actress who plays her (Lauren Socha) is in fact only 19, so I’m almost old enough to be her father. Gah! But she’s so perfect for the lead role in the film trilogy I’ve been working on, it kills me. Will wishing hard enough make it happen? Probably not, no.
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Finally managed to catch up with the first five episodes of Misfits (hurrah for the internet!), just in time for the series finale this Thursday. The pitch used in a lot of reviews was “Heroes meets Skins”, but really it’s more like “Smallville meets Shallow Grave”. The premise of juvenile delinquents getting stuck with superpowers while serving out their “ASBO”-enforced community service is a very strong one... one I wish I’d had myself, in fact. There are plenty of great jokes (verbal and visual), mixed with some serious spills, chills, and thrills... so it’s all rollicking good fun. My one criticism, or concern, would simply be that on a British TV budget, you don’t exactly get an X-Men movie level of action and adventure. The stories, by necessity, have to be kept quite small, and focussed around the community centre where they serve out their sentences... and even then, the series is almost over before us late-comers have even started watching. Imagine the uproar if Buffy or Lost had only been on for six hours a year? Doesn’t bear thinking about. There are a few self-reflexive lines at the end of the first episode about how this sort of superhero stuff just doesn’t happen in Britain, and they’re right, of course... more’s the pity. The show also backs up my theory about “affirmative action” and genre fiction... in that a lot of superheroes gain their powers through freak events, so there’s always the potential there for minorities, or otherwise disenfranchised people, to score a major cosmic break and leap ahead of the pack (in a single bound!). It’s a shame that this potential is so rarely exploited.
The “misfits” themselves are a good mix of clashing, complex characters, and they’ve assembled a great cast of young actors to fill their orange jump-suits. Unfortunately the one I identify most with is probably Simon (Iwan Kehoah), the creepy, no-mates video-geek... although I’d like to stress than I’m not nearly as pervy or dysfunctional as he is. Robert Sheehan steals most of the scenes as angel-faced gobshite Nathan, while the mystery surrounding his past crimes and current powers really kept me hooked. I was also relieved that the writer demonstrated that there was a definite downside to being such a smart-arse. Too often the “jester” character is left free to mock everyone and everything around them, without ever experiencing any fallout... but here, his “fresh mouth” (as Judge Judy would say) is pretty much the cause of all his problems and he knows it, but he still can’t stop himself... so there’s genuine pathos there. And Curtis (Nathan Stewart-Jarrett) gets possibly the greatest time-travel episode ever... well, since Desmond’s in Lost, anyway.
Still, the standout character for me was Kelly, the mind-reader who swings wildly between knee-jerk aggression, and genuine compassion. There was a sweet scene in the second episode where they’re all helping to look after a group of pensioners, and she inadvertently “hears” an old man think how thirsty he is. She immediately offers him a cup of tea... not because he’d asked her out loud, and she had an obligation to respond, but simply because she’s nice like that, bless her. She’s also the only character who actively attempts to break through Nathan’s defences, no matter how often he pushes her away, or thinks about having sex with her. At one point I thought she might even become the group’s leader, since she’s clearly the most authoritative and calm in a crisis, but sadly that didn’t come to pass. As far as I’m concerned, Socha is the star of the show, with a firm handle on the mood swings her character goes through, exposing the vulnerability and humanity beneath the explosive “chav” exterior. She is also, as one wit on the E4 website so eloquently observed, “well fit”. As far as I can tell she hasn’t had many roles before this one, so let’s hope there are plenty more entries on her IMDb page by this time next year, and that some of them are comedies... preferably written by me. Seriously, I have scripts ready and waiting... let’s do lunch!
]]>I see a lot of mags/sites are breaking out their “Best of the Decade” lists, but I can’t be doing with that. Amélie remains my favourite film of all time, so it follows that it’s my fave of the decade... beyond that, there are too many likely candidates to calculate. Still, I think I can just about manage a “Best of the Year” list...
Film: Inglourious Basterds
I’ve been a Tarantino fanboy ever since I first saw Reservoir Dogs at the cinema, back when it was still banned from video release in the UK. Hard to imagine in our post-Saw, “torture porn” era, but the censors seemed to think that a scene (sort of) showing a policeman getting his ear cut-off was the height of horror. All I remember is thinking how cool and funny Steve Buscemi was, and to this day I maintain that Mr Pink made it out alive. Until I see a body, I’m counting him as the sole survivor, so nuts to you. It’s hard to say if QT has grown much since those days... he still has a taste for tense stand-offs, and if anything his stories have gotten a little sloppier. But he has broadened his cultural/historical frame of reference, and when it comes to arresting images and colourful dialogue, he always delivers. This flick didn’t turn out to be quite what I’d been expecting from the trailer, which suggested a Jewsploitation take on The Dirty Dozen... there are certainly elements of that in there, but the “Basterds” aren’t the sole focus of the story, and the other characters make for a more expansive experience, although the incidental scenes do tend to drag a little. Shosanna Dreyfus (Mélanie Laurent) still impresses as a strong, smart heroine, even if she does forget a golden rule of dealing with movie villains. One thing you can always rely on with QT, even as the clones try to play catch-up, and the accusations of his own pop-cultural pilfering come flying, is that there’s no one else making movies like him right now... and that’s a shame.
Honourable mentions: Star Trek and Drag Me To Hell, both of which were big, pulpy fun. I had high hopes for Marina de Van’s latest, Don't Look Back (Ne Te Retourne Pas), starring Sophie Marceau and Monica Bellucci... but when it was screened out of competition at Cannes, it dropped like a lead balloon, so it’s unlikely to get a big release in this country.
Album: It’s Not me, It’s You by Lily Allen
Some of the lyrics may have proven to be slightly less sardonic than they first sounded (she’s since gone topless for a magazine photo shoot, making the “I’ll take my clothes off” line from ‘The Fear’ a bit prophetic), and its hard to sympathise with a pop-star who buys a beach and then complains that she isn’t making enough money, but I’m still impressed by how biting and satirical her deceptively cheerful ditties can be. I haven’t heard any other artists drop the F-Bomb with the sugar-coated venom Allen does on “F*ck You”, which puts most modern punks to shame. Not every track is a keeper, but then with today’s technology it’s easy enough to swap some of the syrup out for caustic B-sides like ‘Kabul Shit’. And no one romanticises the mundane details of dating like Lily does, bless her.
Honourable mentions: Jigsaw by Lady Sovereign, which was quite catchy but lacked the spiky spontaneity of her debut (and had far too much auto-tune on it for my liking) and Do You Want The Truth Or Something Beautiful? by Paloma Faith. 21st Century Man by Luke Haines would probably be a strong contender for the top spot too, but it only came out the other week, and I haven’t heard it enough times to really comment.
Book: Steppenwolf by Herman Hesse
True, it was first published way back in 1927, but I don’t read a lot of new books, and this nifty little novel deserves a nod for achieving the seemingly impossible task of making me feel like an upbeat, adventurous optimist! It didn’t last, but for a few days there I was flying. Along with the Bhagavad Gita and Teach Yourself Happiness, this has been a pretty positive year, reading-wise.
TV: Coming Soon
Sad to say, but the best television I saw this year was actually from 1999, namely the three-part series Coming Soon by Annie Griffin. Her latest offering New Town could have been a contender too, of course, but it was aborted after only one episode, so who knows how it would have turned out?
Honourable mentions: Lost (S5) and Ugly Betty (S3) both had their high points, but they also had plenty of lows. The way the Lost writers have treated Locke since the second season is disgraceful, and that resentment taints everything else that happens around the poor sod. Boo, I say! Ugly Betty has become so predictable with its tragedy and melodrama... “Oh look, a new girlfriend for Daniel... wonder how long she’ll last?”, “Oh, a fancy job offer for Betty... wonder if that will fall through somehow?” The whole thing would work much better as a family/workplace sitcom, imho. Make it so! I really wish I’d watched Misfits from the beginning, because that looks like it could be pretty good... I only caught the first half-hour of the third episode, but I already have a slight crush on Lauren Socha (love at first head-butt, you might say!). The premise of a gang of random juvenile delinquents gaining superpowers is a strong one, and they seem to have a great cast for it. I’m strongly considering taking a blind punt on the DVD, which is a very rare impulse for a miser like me. Meanwhile, I’m still addicted to Judge Judy, but let’s not talk about that.
And if you read all of that, give yourself a cookie. You earned it. :)
]]>As the lead “Emo” Andrea in St Trinian’s, Faith scored herself a considerable amount of screen time, although I didn’t really notice her until she ditched the face-paint and piercings, and appeared as herself on an episode of Never Mind the Buzzcocks. According to Wikipedia, “as an ex-magician’s assistant, trained contemporary dancer, Leeds alumna with an MA in time based arts, a performer in burlesque show and dance club, and an actress, Paloma has been mixing artistic media throughout her adult life. A few years ago she introduced music into the equation, at first mimicking the blues and soul singers she admired, but eventually finding her own voice.” Um... except that “her own voice” sounds suspiciously like Amy Winehouse’s... not that that’s such a bad thing, of course. Still, it would be difficult to confuse the two because, as asserted in an overly harsh NME review of her debut album, Do You Want the Truth or Something Beautiful?, Faith lacks the sneering, snarling and swearing swagger of her predecessor. True, that’s a large part of the appeal with Winehouse, but that doesn’t mean that Faith doesn’t have anything to offer, simply because she’s taken a sweeter, softer approach to White-Girl Soul.
Singles like "Stone Cold Sober" and “Upside Down” are hooky and charming enough on their own, but also benefit greatly from being seen as part of her overall performance. Faith isn’t “edgy”, by any stretch of the imagination, but she has chipper charm, quirky style, an easy smile, and a powerful set of pipes... plus she knows how to play to the camera/audience in ways that the typical NME-approved hipper-than-thou artists could never manage. Yes, maybe her show has more spectacle than scathing social commentary or political bluster, but what’s wrong with that? Pop music is a pretty broad church, and there’s plenty of room on our playlists for a little levity, isn’t there? And there’s always the outside chance she’ll fall under the spell of a sinister Luke Haines-esque svengali, who’ll have her singing about the Baader Meinhof Group and such... but until then, come to the cabaret, old chum!
]]>All I want for X-Mas this year is a cheque for $30 Million, and Sarah Silverman on my arm. Make it so!
(Aside from being a window into my dearest day-dreams, this is also a still from a new movie starring Steve Buscemi, called Saint John of Las Vegas. Apparently it has already appeared at several film festivals and is scheduled to hit American theaters on January 29th, in limited release)
]]>Horrocks first caught my eye as the foxy Nirvanah Crane, seducing Rimmer in an episode of Red Dwarf... but that same year (1992) she also made her debut as Bubble in Absolutely Fabulous. I always enjoy it when a “ditzy” character crosses the line into surreality, and Bubble skipped merrily across that line time and time again, somehow managing to make Edina seem relatively sane and sensible by comparison. She also wore some super-cute outfits (costumes?) around the office, setting the bar far higher than Ugly Betty has ever attempted with Amanda’s attire. Sadly Horrocks eventually tired of playing the fool, and was reincarnated as Katy Grin, a soullessly whitebread shark of a TV presenter. I’m not sure how many actresses could pull off a gearshift like that, but then if there’s one thing Horrocks is known for, it’s versatility.
In fact, her ability to mimic various old-timey singers even inspired a play, The Rise and Fall of Little Voice, later to be adapted into a critically acclaimed film, co-starring Ewan McGregor, Brenda Blethyn and Michael Caine. The film spawned two spin-off albums, and also earned her nominations for a Golden Globe, BAFTA and Screen Actors Guild Award. Her chameleon skills were also tested in a 1996 sketch-show special called Never Mind the Horrocks, which contained two classic skits guaranteed to haunt me for the rest of my life... and thanks to the blessed YouTube, they can haunt you too! The first (warning: contains swears) features a shrill children’s presenter, from back in the black & white days, talking down to her audience, encouraging them to torment their servants, and then singing possibly the most irritating marching “song” you’ll ever hear. Her commitment to the bit is a joy, even if the sound emanating from her mouth is a pain! The second sees her springing up in a classy costume drama, with Martin Clunes as the astounded suitor attempting to woo a wealthy father’s unruly (rabid?) youngest daughter. That Philippa, she’ll steal your heart, along with your trousers!
Most recently (just t’other night, in fact) she appeared as the wartime singer/comedienne Gracie Fields, in a BBC4 docudrama written by her husband. Biopics aren’t my usual cup of tea, but Horrocks and her co-star Tom Hollander kept it all fizzing along nicely, with their amusing and engaging performances. There was also a common plot element with last week’s look at the author Enid Blyton, played by Helena Bonham-Carter... namely the eponymous heroines getting screwed over by the British press. In Blyton’s case it was a scurrilous rumour that she had a team of ghost-writers knocking out her novels for her (ironically, the way she was depicted treating her poor children and first husband rather made such allegations pale in comparison), while in Fields’ case it was seemingly manufactured outrage over her decision to “flee” to North America, to escape the Blitz with her Italian husband, who they insinuated was an associate of Al Capone! Granted, her main motivation for the move seemed to be sparing her loved one from being interned as a POW, but she was still touring as a singer and unofficial cultural ambassador, trying to keep spirits up and raise funds for the war effort. She wasn’t sat by a swimming pool, rolling chocolate cigarettes out of silk stockings, so the “traitor” slurs and pillory treatment seems a bit harsh in retrospect. Apparently one of the trade-offs in having a “free press” back then was that they were free to make up any garbage they liked to grab an audience, regardless of the damage it might do to an innocent individual’s reputation. Tch! Thank goodness we’ve all evolved past that sort of trial-by-tabloid hysteria now... ho ho...
]]>As winter approaches, a young man’s fancy inevitably turns to thoughts of Nigella. Or at least, this man’s fancy does. She’s such a charming, well-spoken woman, I could quite happily sit and watch her read the telephone directory... so long as she made a few amusing asides every now and again. It’s fun watching her flirt with the camera as she cooks away, but she was equally engaging company on the pop-genealogy programme Who Do You Think You Are?, tracing her European Jewish ancestry. Rather shocking to learn that her great-great-great grandfather actually fled to this country to escape a criminal conviction! If I said that the Dutch legal system’s loss was our culture’s gain, would I sound like some sort of pesky liberal? God forbid!
The only problem with watching Lawson’s cheffing shows, which for some bizarre reason are only available on DVD in Australia (no wonder they call it “the lucky country”!), is that it so often leads to hunger... and disappointment, when I remember that I’m on a diet and can’t cook. I know that many comedians have mocked her for using rarefied ingredients, but really they’re missing the point. Her shows are “comfort food” for the brain... like reading a PG Wodehouse book, or similarly cosy middle-class fare. It’s aspirational and idyllic... I just sit back and let it wash over me, then fantasise about punting past “dreaming spires”, and being able to understand the menu in fancy-schmancy cafes. The last time I visited Oxford, for a very happy stroll around the Museum of Modern Art, I ended up slouching off to Burger King for lunch, like the oik I truly am. Sigh... if only I could be one of the fake friends Nigella pretends to have dinner parties with on TV!
As if I needed any other reason to admire the woman, she also has access to Tracey Emin’s notorious installation, My Bed (1999)... a work which I’ll continue to defend to my death, dammit. I remember reading somewhere that Emin had visited Lawson to replace the condoms which form part of the piece. Not sure if that was a joke, but it’s an image I think we should all meditate on.
]]>While doing my usual Big S picture-trawl, I came across this interesting article in Jezebel, about the absence of female writers on the staff of big TV shows and movies. Now, as noted further down the article, when they claim that The Sarah Silverman Program has "zero" female writers, they're obviously overlooking the fact that the series co-creator, head writer and executive producer is a woman (Sarah herself, obviously). Still it's a bit of a surprise to learn that there aren't any other women on the team. Apparently Laura makes up quite a few of her own jokes on set, but does that count? Not officially, no.
The part that really snagged my eye, was a quote from an academic study which suggested that "the greater the participation of women, the more thought-provoking but the less violent and fear-inducing is the resulting cinematic product." As a fan of non-violence and provocative thought, I'd go along with that conclusion to some extent... certainly where my favourite Brit-based writer, Annie Griffin, is concerned... but a female duo were responsible for the recent Anna Faris flick House Bunny, which prompted very little intellectual discussion beyond the usual critical musing on why such an obviously talented comic-actress keeps taking such crappy, crappy roles.
As a wannabe writer it also intrigues me, because my own work tends to fall on the so-called "feminine" side of the line, with compassion and philosophising (spirituality?) where the mindless sex and violence should be... mostly because that's the sort of comedy that I enjoy, and want to see more of. So, for purely selfish reasons, I'm hoping there's some sort of genderquake in the industry at some point over the next few months, so my screenplays don't land on stony ground. Thalia, we beseech thee!!!
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