Joke Pirates and Bond

Whenever a new James Bond film is announced or advertised I tend to fall back on old jokes. The jokes are often aged by me because I repeat them a lot. It's a sign of approaching old age annoyance on my behalf. I make no excuse for the deliberate piece of self-indulgence any more than David Lynch did for making "Firewalk with Me". I have some sympathy for Edmund Blackadder of "Blackadder the Third" when he outlined his desires for life:

“I want to be young and wild, and then I want to be middle-aged and rich, and then I want to be old and annoy people by pretending that I'm deaf. ''

I know how to ruin a joke as good as anyone, but there are definite limits to my evil. I recall once being told by a member of the Millennial Generation that it was important for me to write "lol" or put in smiling or winking face formed out of punctuation marks when I make a controversial statement in case I upset the reader unless I meant to cause offense. When I looked puzzled as to why someone might get the wrong impression from a flippant, facetious or playful remark, the annoyed member of the Millenial Generation told me, as if my social education had stopped in the sand-pit, that "people cannot read sarcasm!" Maybe this is the reason why there are wars. If only our great writers, playwrights, orators and cartoonists had known to place a "lol" or a smiley at the end of one their humourous sentences we could have avoided a lot of bloodshed.

Digging This One Up in Time

Please excuse the terrible punning in the title, but it was all that sprung to mind. The "re-discovery" of Josephine Tey's book in recent times has been met with mixed feelings on my behalf. I say mixed because although the work is very original and interesting, it seemed to disappear for a while. Now, with the huge resurgence of interest in Richard III due to the exhumation of his body under a Leicester carpark and his reburial at Leicester Cathedral with all the pomp he wasn't granted 500 years ago, Tey's book is now popular once again. It's a case of geeky "So now you want to read the book" from me. It defies the conventional and cynical belief that historical retrospective detective novels need to be balanced with physical adventure, best exemplified by the truly awful "Da Vinci Code". However, at the risk of spoiling the novel's conclusion I am not in favour of its conclusion and firmly in the corner of historian, Alison Weir (not to mention Winston Churchill and my old English teacher!) I recommend Weir's excellent primary source examination of the case of the murder of the children, Edward V and Richard Duke of York, which I bought as "The Princes in the Tower" and has since been republished as "Richard III and the Princes in the Tower". Nevertheless, it still stands as a great work of fiction and an exercise in historical research albeit with a faulty premise and foregone conclusion derived from the hero's first impressions taken from a portrait.

Beowulf and Bollocks

Beowulf is the best known example of Old English literature. We are told that, much like the works of Shakespeare, the piece stood out against other works of the same era because the creativity in its language. Linguistics and language in general are not my strong points, so I won’t attempt a pretentious analysis, but an excellent edition of the Radio 4 programme “In Our Time” explained that there were numerous phrases and words that were unique to the poem. Suffice to say that I will take the learned expert’s word for this fact for the time being. It made me think about the power of words. (listen to the radio show/podcast here)

Broadening Attitudes?

Whilst season 2 of “Broadchurch” is still up for the people’s jury to decide upon its critical merit, I thought I would cast a thought back to the original show. It began as a story where the body of a young boy was found on the beach of the fictional Dorset coastal town, Broadchurch. DS Ellie Miller (Oliver Coleman) returns from holiday to discover that her application for a promotion to the rank of Detective Investigator has been blocked by the employment of DI Alec Hardy (David Tennant). The young boy is the best friend of Miller’s son, creating an even great strain on the whole investigation. As frustration mounts to discover the identity of the child’s killer, the secret backgrounds of various characters are revealed.

Fond Farewell to the Freaks

I came into the "American Horror Story" series late with season 4. For those who do not know, the series was created by Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk. Each season is a self-contained mini-series of 13 episodes. Just when I had written off the horror genre with only a handful or so films made since 2000 that could be considered classics, this type of work shines through. However, I wonder if this has little to do with horror and more to do with the fact that television is finally surpassing the feature film experience in terms of overall quality. "Freak Show" is an unashamed love letter to Tod Browning's "Freaks" and Herk Harvey's "Carnival of Souls." However, there is more to it than a simple homage. From the wonderfully eerie stop motion opening credits that fuse a twisted view of a child's clockwork world with inspiration drawn from physical anomalies through to its surprisingly heart-warming finale, "Freak Show" gives the impression that it will make no compromises. This is probably a very naive thing for me to say, but I see a production that indulges with genuine affection for its audience. It seems not to fear being surreal, humorous at the same time as being soap operatic with its plot. Sometimes the story stays within the boundaries of realistic horror and at other times, we get supernatural curses and conjoined twins using telepathy. Likewise, the gory special effects shift between painfully realistic depictions of violence to Kill Bill splatterphunk. The horror is post-torture porn in that it steers away from leering extended depictions of horror, only to shock you later. This same technique is used for the deaths of certain cast members, which it does well to generate sympathy for, narrowly have them escape a grisly fate only to do later anyway without losing the shock value.

You Could Say the Same About Me

“You could say the same about me… And you probably do”. That cutting end to a sentence uttered by the Sir Thomas Cromwell of the BBC2 adaptation of Hilary Mantel’s “Wolf Hall” was delivered with such poise and timing by Mark Rylance that it felt like I had listened to an ancient proverb. The scene, which saw Cromwell standing away from the Royal Court and being treated like the town gossip by Jane Boleyn, encapsulates the nature of all politics. It is a good lesson: the person whose nature it is to collude with you demonstrates that the traits of a person who is likely to conspire against you.   

The Blooded Lens Filter Part 2

The Blooded Lens Filter

Distorting Horror Fiction through Cinema (Part 2)

Back to a bit of self-indulgence and my list of fictional horror icons and archetypes that have been changed so much by celluloid that the popular perception of them little resembles their pre-film state.  As always, spoilers ahead for the respective works being referenced. If you haven't read/seen "Psycho" and are unaware of the famous twist I urge that you do before reading my piece on Norman Bates.