I am sometimes very fortunate.
I have an amazing child, I have met Sharon Stone and now I have seen Vanessa Redgrave perform in a one woman play at the National Theatre.
The play is a monologue adapted from the book by Joan Didion and spans an 18 month period in the author's life in which she lost both her husband and her daughter.
I will say right now that I did not connect with the material, just as the woman at the end of my row who was coughing all the way through the performance had not connected with her doctor, or even a pharmacy brought cough suppressant.
However Redgrave grabbed me and didn't let me go for the entire 90 minutes. You may be asking how can you be pulled in by the actor and not the material. Redgrave could have been reciting the phone book and I would have been equally as entranced.
Even with a thick American accent, as we have seen her use before in Nip Tuck, her voice has that unmistakable quality that sits at the back of your throat and doesn't allow you to swallow. It is one of the most listenable voices god ever created. Calm. She has a calmness about her, and even while bestowing on us the most hysterical moments of Didion's material she still retained such incredible composure.
I liked the simplicity of the production, directed by David Hare, but it would be almost impossible to make chaos of a one woman dialogue - although I'm sure Joel Schmacher could pull it off given half the chance. The drop away cloths which symbolised the story moving forward were quite superb.
If I ever have a year of magical thinking I insist that Vanessa Redgrave delivers my monologue.
I was upset for the 'indian' woman in front of me who turned and looked at me every time I moved my foot. I do not believe that she brought into Redgrave's performance. I penalised her by moving my pink Adidas micropacer quite vigourously, and eventually it started kicking the back of her chair. I think Vanessa would have wanted it this way.
Monday 25 August 2008
Spoken Word of the Week
You may know by now that one of my heroes is Horatio Caine, the perma-laid back lead CSI from the best of the franchise CSI:Miami.
To demonstrate why he is my idol, and to highlight his general coolness to those of you that may be missing out here are two stunning verbalities muttered by Horatio in Season 6, Episode 3...
A female District Attorney has just told Horatio that she will be trying his son as an adult for the crime of kidnapping, she is not aware that Horatio is the father.
Female District Attorney: Why do you care so much?
Horatio: I care (beat-beat-beat) because it's my jooooob.
And then it got better when Horatio and Delko were interviewing an inmate about the whereabouts of Horatio's son, who had mysteriously gone missing within the maximum security prison where he was being held with murderers and drug dealers while awaiting trial.
Horatio: If I find out that those scratches on your arm are from my son (beat-beat-beat) I will come back to this room (beat-beat-beat) and you (beat) will leave (beat) in a bagggggggg.
It doesn't get much better.
To demonstrate why he is my idol, and to highlight his general coolness to those of you that may be missing out here are two stunning verbalities muttered by Horatio in Season 6, Episode 3...
A female District Attorney has just told Horatio that she will be trying his son as an adult for the crime of kidnapping, she is not aware that Horatio is the father.
Female District Attorney: Why do you care so much?
Horatio: I care (beat-beat-beat) because it's my jooooob.
And then it got better when Horatio and Delko were interviewing an inmate about the whereabouts of Horatio's son, who had mysteriously gone missing within the maximum security prison where he was being held with murderers and drug dealers while awaiting trial.
Horatio: If I find out that those scratches on your arm are from my son (beat-beat-beat) I will come back to this room (beat-beat-beat) and you (beat) will leave (beat) in a bagggggggg.
It doesn't get much better.
Sunday 17 August 2008
Bobblehead of the Week
To celebrate the launch of series 5 of 'The X Factor' here is a classic - the Simon Cowell. Disappointingly made of plastic, but an exceptional likeness.
Includes a voice chip which recites the classic Simon lines: "You are the most boring person I have ever met", "Words can't describe just how dull you really are", "That was totally pathetic".
As always, photo is courtesy of Sanderson Studios.
Joan and the Vibrators
I stumbled across Joan (Flatmate 2) in the lounge tonight with 2 new vibrators (the Mini Thorn & the Stubby Pool).
In the course of the conversation she then uttered the following vibrator related dialogue:
"It's quite hard".
"Oh god - oh no" (She didn't even break a sweat here).
"It's like an ice cream".
"It looks like a little sword".
"Is there one person or two involved in that".
"So they're about the same length".
"This one feels nicer than that one" (Things were getting a little hairy here for my liking - she was in the lounge after all).
Following on from this Joan then commented: "They lose their elasticity after a while" - (Aren't there exercises you do to get that back?).
And then as if things couldn't get any worse Richard (Flatmate 1) asked Joan: "You don't have a blindfold I can borrow do you?" to which Joan (looking up from the 14 page 'Guide to Bondage' booklet) replied: "I do".
Crikey - an eventful night on the couch. I have learnt even more about the usually very bookish Joan. I wonder what wikipedia would make of the evening's entertainment.
I am concerned - I am very concerned.
Sunday 10 August 2008
Bobblehead of the Week
The Stay Puft Marshmallow Man - My only swaying at the midrift bobblehead. Not really a bobblehead but more of a bobble body. Could Ghostbusters 3 finally be a reality? This blog will keep you updated as information comes to hand. Photo courtesy of Sanderson Studios.
Wednesday 6 August 2008
Newport Pagnell
It is my birthday today. I am very very old.
As if that is not bad enough I have just returned from Newport Pagnell - a stunning suburb of Milton Keynes (as if the story couldn't get any worse).
I was in Newport Pagnell on an orientation course for work. I have been in my job for nearly 3 months and have not had the opportunity to become disorientated - just disillusioned - however they still saw the need to send me to the DeVere conference centre in Newport Pagnell for two days.
As the the train approached Milton Keynes we stopped at a station called Leighton Buzzard. Honestly, should this not have rung alarm bells.
The hotel was hideous in every way, my colleague Chris having to open his window to make his room bigger, and I turned away all the meals and refused to pay. And the alarm bells that should have rung at Leighton Buzzard actually did ring at the DeVere Newport Pagnell as the incompetent chef nearly burnt down the kitchen. At the time of the alarm I was faced with the dilemma of: Do I evacuate with the rest of the hotel, or Do I continue watching the season premiere of CSI Miami. I chose CSI Miami, and really who wouldn't when faced with Horatio Caine or standing in the rain.
The course itself was inane and everything they taught us was contrary to what goes on in my job on a daily basis, they were promoting organisation in the workplace when clearly we only ever deal in guess work.
I can't even think of anything witty to write about the whole experience. Just don't ever go there. And definitely don't ever spend your birthday there.
As if that is not bad enough I have just returned from Newport Pagnell - a stunning suburb of Milton Keynes (as if the story couldn't get any worse).
I was in Newport Pagnell on an orientation course for work. I have been in my job for nearly 3 months and have not had the opportunity to become disorientated - just disillusioned - however they still saw the need to send me to the DeVere conference centre in Newport Pagnell for two days.
As the the train approached Milton Keynes we stopped at a station called Leighton Buzzard. Honestly, should this not have rung alarm bells.
The hotel was hideous in every way, my colleague Chris having to open his window to make his room bigger, and I turned away all the meals and refused to pay. And the alarm bells that should have rung at Leighton Buzzard actually did ring at the DeVere Newport Pagnell as the incompetent chef nearly burnt down the kitchen. At the time of the alarm I was faced with the dilemma of: Do I evacuate with the rest of the hotel, or Do I continue watching the season premiere of CSI Miami. I chose CSI Miami, and really who wouldn't when faced with Horatio Caine or standing in the rain.
The course itself was inane and everything they taught us was contrary to what goes on in my job on a daily basis, they were promoting organisation in the workplace when clearly we only ever deal in guess work.
I can't even think of anything witty to write about the whole experience. Just don't ever go there. And definitely don't ever spend your birthday there.
Friday 1 August 2008
Braces Off
After 8 months I finally had my braces removed today.
My teeth look perfect, but I am full of resentment.
Is it resentment at the dirty indian cunt (still at large) who caused the damage to my teeth in the first place?
Or am I resentful at the £2500 I've had to pay to my orthodontist, another indian (not so cunty), to fix the problem. Could this be some sort of indian racket hatched over a pack of bombay mix? "You damage - I fix - We split money and eat curry..."
Or do I resent the fact that without braces I stand the chance of maybe looking my age? They did make me look 10 years younger (25) and with the blond hair taking off another ten years (15) and the perma-tan another 10 (5) where am I now?
Maths never was my strong suit.
My teeth look perfect, but I am full of resentment.
Is it resentment at the dirty indian cunt (still at large) who caused the damage to my teeth in the first place?
Or am I resentful at the £2500 I've had to pay to my orthodontist, another indian (not so cunty), to fix the problem. Could this be some sort of indian racket hatched over a pack of bombay mix? "You damage - I fix - We split money and eat curry..."
Or do I resent the fact that without braces I stand the chance of maybe looking my age? They did make me look 10 years younger (25) and with the blond hair taking off another ten years (15) and the perma-tan another 10 (5) where am I now?
Maths never was my strong suit.
I Kinda Believe
This film should win alot of awards - Vigourous deployment of airbags (2), best impailment of Amanda Peet (and lets face it, who hasn't wanted to see her impailed before), ugliest ugliest ugliest duvet cover (the one that Mulder and Scully share in their subtlely revealed 'live in' relationship) and most importantly 'best line' so far in any movie of 2008 as Dana Scully scowls across the room at Billy Connolly's disgraced peodophile priest: "Well, let's not forget, he buggered 37 altar boys". Bugger, she had my attention. And hold it she did as well, for this is an extended episode of 'The X Files' that very much belongs to Gillian Anderson's Scully and not to the once great Fox Mulder (David Duchovny).
Anderson is a revelation as the perma-frowning Scully. Years of slumming it in indie films and BBC dramas have obviously made her relish coming back to the role that made her everyone's favourite sometimes-chunky (depending on what season you're watching) FBI sceptic. She approaches the part with a new attitude and it is all a believable progression from when we last saw Scully. The story thread revolving around her desperately trying to save the life of a young terminally ill child is a definite highlight - am I saying that because I am so dulled down by 'Grey's Anatomy' that I want everything to be a hospital drama? For whatever reason I thoroughly enjoyed Scully sticking it up that big earred British actor and the 'higher power' he relies on for guidence. She's Scully for fucks sake, if she wants to perform experimental stem cell procedures on the little retard don't let your religious beliefs get in the way (now i'm side tracked).
And I'm back..
Duchovny on the other hand, who hasn't been slumming it in the stunning Showtime comedy 'Californication' appears to be going through the Fox Mulder motions, and the beard is just silly, silly, silly silly - OK so you're a recluse, it doesn't mean you stop shaving - such a fucking cliche - the only character in movie history who has pulled off wearing a beard this bad is Matt Hooper (Jaws reference 2). And how does Mulder survive the dog attack? He has always been such a ' sister searching' pussy - he doesn't beat up and decapitate rottweilers.
Let's face it, with a plot about Russian organ harvesting the film is not really an 'x file' at all, but the Billy Connolly 'I may be a peodophile priest who has buggered 37 alter boys but I'm also a psychic who can help you find dead bodies' link kind of gives it the supernatural element it needs to be put into the 'x' box. Connolly is surprisingly very good, mainly because I completely believe that he has buggered 37 alter boys - why is he always so filthy and ungroomed looking? Unfortunately he is used as a tenuous link to help move the plot along when it needs a tenuous link to move it along - but even with a tenuous linker like Connolly it still held my interest.
The most tenuous link is when the bad guy, who Mulder lost in a foot pursuit leading to Amanda Peet's untimely impalement only minutes before, drives up and parks ouside the pet food store where Mulder is now circulating photos of the bad guy - please.
I think the removal of the persistent sexual tension between Mulder and Scully that dogged the series helps alot. We know they are fucking (under that hideous duvet), and indeed co-habitating from minute 14, and we don't spend a second of the film worrying that they may or may not kiss - it allows us to focus our energy on trying to believe that Xzibit can actually act - even though he is only being asked to play a grunting FBI stooge (if that was too subtle for you - Xzibit really sucks playing a grunting FBI stooge).
At 104 minutes it doesn't outstay it's welcome and I can honestly say I didn't squirm in my comfortable reclining armchair once, even with my current tickled anus (Curb Your Enthusiasm reference 1). I am in love with the Apollo West End - my new local. So luxurious, and peeing on those plastic ice cube things in the urinals was so worth the visit - and air conditioning too (take note Clapham PictureHouse).
And I'm back again..
The X Files - I Want to Believe is not going to please everyone. It is a stand alone story, so everyone who wants to try and believe has been given the opportunity. It pleased me. Didn't make me clap and cheer (maybe it would if I had seen it in Battersea), but it left me feeling kinda moist and was worth seeing just for the rejigged X Files theme by UNKLE which features over the closing credits - It pleased me enough to go and buy the soundtrack - even though that fat fuck at Zavvi told me it hadn't been released - but that is another episode.
PS: I did nearly clap at the appearance of Mitch Pileggi as Assistant Director Walter Skinner - I bet even Billy Connolly's buggering psychic didn't see that bald bastard coming.
Anderson is a revelation as the perma-frowning Scully. Years of slumming it in indie films and BBC dramas have obviously made her relish coming back to the role that made her everyone's favourite sometimes-chunky (depending on what season you're watching) FBI sceptic. She approaches the part with a new attitude and it is all a believable progression from when we last saw Scully. The story thread revolving around her desperately trying to save the life of a young terminally ill child is a definite highlight - am I saying that because I am so dulled down by 'Grey's Anatomy' that I want everything to be a hospital drama? For whatever reason I thoroughly enjoyed Scully sticking it up that big earred British actor and the 'higher power' he relies on for guidence. She's Scully for fucks sake, if she wants to perform experimental stem cell procedures on the little retard don't let your religious beliefs get in the way (now i'm side tracked).
And I'm back..
Duchovny on the other hand, who hasn't been slumming it in the stunning Showtime comedy 'Californication' appears to be going through the Fox Mulder motions, and the beard is just silly, silly, silly silly - OK so you're a recluse, it doesn't mean you stop shaving - such a fucking cliche - the only character in movie history who has pulled off wearing a beard this bad is Matt Hooper (Jaws reference 2). And how does Mulder survive the dog attack? He has always been such a ' sister searching' pussy - he doesn't beat up and decapitate rottweilers.
Let's face it, with a plot about Russian organ harvesting the film is not really an 'x file' at all, but the Billy Connolly 'I may be a peodophile priest who has buggered 37 alter boys but I'm also a psychic who can help you find dead bodies' link kind of gives it the supernatural element it needs to be put into the 'x' box. Connolly is surprisingly very good, mainly because I completely believe that he has buggered 37 alter boys - why is he always so filthy and ungroomed looking? Unfortunately he is used as a tenuous link to help move the plot along when it needs a tenuous link to move it along - but even with a tenuous linker like Connolly it still held my interest.
The most tenuous link is when the bad guy, who Mulder lost in a foot pursuit leading to Amanda Peet's untimely impalement only minutes before, drives up and parks ouside the pet food store where Mulder is now circulating photos of the bad guy - please.
I think the removal of the persistent sexual tension between Mulder and Scully that dogged the series helps alot. We know they are fucking (under that hideous duvet), and indeed co-habitating from minute 14, and we don't spend a second of the film worrying that they may or may not kiss - it allows us to focus our energy on trying to believe that Xzibit can actually act - even though he is only being asked to play a grunting FBI stooge (if that was too subtle for you - Xzibit really sucks playing a grunting FBI stooge).
At 104 minutes it doesn't outstay it's welcome and I can honestly say I didn't squirm in my comfortable reclining armchair once, even with my current tickled anus (Curb Your Enthusiasm reference 1). I am in love with the Apollo West End - my new local. So luxurious, and peeing on those plastic ice cube things in the urinals was so worth the visit - and air conditioning too (take note Clapham PictureHouse).
And I'm back again..
The X Files - I Want to Believe is not going to please everyone. It is a stand alone story, so everyone who wants to try and believe has been given the opportunity. It pleased me. Didn't make me clap and cheer (maybe it would if I had seen it in Battersea), but it left me feeling kinda moist and was worth seeing just for the rejigged X Files theme by UNKLE which features over the closing credits - It pleased me enough to go and buy the soundtrack - even though that fat fuck at Zavvi told me it hadn't been released - but that is another episode.
PS: I did nearly clap at the appearance of Mitch Pileggi as Assistant Director Walter Skinner - I bet even Billy Connolly's buggering psychic didn't see that bald bastard coming.
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