Reviews

The Passion of The Christ.

Philistines! They've remade "Life of Brian"!
Despite the promise of the title there is no sex in the film. But Jesus does spend most of film with his shirt off. So if you've ever thought "phwoar, I fancy Jesus Christ", this is the film for you. (Sorry, Jesus the Christ). If you're a more Christian person you will know the Passion of Christ is the story from the arrest of Jesus to his death on the cross. The point being the world is a bad, sinful place and Jesus took the punishment for the whole world's sin upon himself. That's a lot of sin. Which explains why the film is so relentlessly violent.
The film itself is a high quality affair, with authentic dress and location. It's like Gladiator but without the laughs, or the tigers. Jesus even manages to come across as a bit of an action hero as he defiantly takes his torture - it's Judgment day and Jesus is taking out the trash! I know I'd be crying like a girlie. Maybe that's Mel Gibson's influence, and maybe that's because I'm a bit of a girlie. Mel Gibson co-wrote and directs this film and he's done a good job. His effort for authenticity even extends to the film being spoken entirely in Latin and Hebrew, which I like. I find it very odd when foreign characters speak among themselves in English, even the Klingons do it!
I did find some things odd though. In a flashback they do seem to suggest that in his carpentry days Jesus invented the modern table. That's a new one on me, which Gospel is that in? And lo' Jesus said, always put the knives on the left. And as Pontus Pilot addresses the angry mob with "Who shall you have me release?", you can't help but think "release Roderick!"
They went for a very traditional Jesus, long face, beard, hippy hair. However Satan is a very interesting chap, for a start he's a girl. Very mysterious, pale, bald - a bit like Death in the Seventh Seal. And at one point she's holding a demon child which is meant to be scary but was ruined for me because I swear it was Jimmy Krankie!
I wasn't sure if this was going to be one of those ponderous, arty films that go on forever, but it isn't. In fact it's the standard two hours. I enjoyed it, and the only missing element is John Wayne drawling, "Truly this is the son of God".

Terminator 3: Rise Of The Machines.

Just as he always promised - he’s back!
First let’s get that plot out of the way. A new Terminator, the TX, is sent back through time to kill John Connor’s future resistance lieutenants, but the brilliantly original angle is this terminator is a woman. Where do they get their ideas! She’s mean, she’s bad and has she wears tasteful earrings. So a T-800 terminator, and that’s our Arnie if you didn’t know, is dispatched to protect them.
John Connor himself has spent the last ten years outside the system. No record exists of his movements and no other terminators can find him. However, by chance, or possibly destiny, he meets up with his future second in command and wife, and they both become targets of the Terminatrix.
I was ready to disown this picture if it was bad. After all Terminator was James Cameron’s baby, yet he was not involved with T3 at all. And this new film has a lot to live up to because I consider T2 to be a perfect film. It looked beautiful, the cast, script, character dynamics, and all that stuff real film reviewers talk about was spot on. I’m afraid T2 couldn’t be topped, yet Rise Of The Machines doesn’t disappoint.
First I’ll answer the question of how can there be a sequel when Terminator 2 wrapped things up so neatly. Yes Sarah Connor and the young John did change the future, but destiny wasn’t changed and the machines still end up taking over. So that’s that. And destiny and whether it can be changed is this film’s main theme.
Another theme is extreme carnage. Property is destroyed on a huge scale - after all that’s what it takes to kill a terminator. But the certificate has gone from an 18 for the first two films to a 12 so it’s violence the whole family can enjoy. Oh look she’s ripped his guts out, aww how sweet.
Arnold Schwarzenegger is the only main member of the original cast to return in this movie. It’s good to see him back as the T-800, but his role isn’t as central as before. You no longer get the impression of the relentless killing machine of the first movie, neither do we get the touching relationship developed with John Connor from the second movie. The latter might have been different if the original John, Edward Furlong, had returned to the role – it’s a shame. Instead John is played by Nick Stahl, who has none of the cool style and attitude of the young John. Whether this is due to the script, the absence of Edward Furlong, or Nick Stahl’s personality lobotomy I don’t know.
And tonight’s guest baddie is… a female terminator. If they wanted a new and original angle for the baddie they could have done better, because that’s just lazy. And the fact the TX is a woman is only really used once. After that it’s just the usual fisticuffs.
However compared to other recent action films T3 is excellent. I’ve mentioned the extreme violence, with of course the necessary special effects to create it. There are also some truly funny comedy moments, a far cry from the original Terminator film. These moments are almost exclusively for Arnie, involving some Elton John style sunglasses, and Arnie telling us to “Talk to ze hand!” Maybe it cheapens the Terminator to make him the butt of the jokes but I laughed.
All in all a good action film if a little light – Cameron would have done it better. The film ends on a more fatalistic note than T2, but with an opening for T4. However Arnie’s political ambitions might mean there will be no more, so I’m asking all of those reading this who live in California, vote for the other guy!

The Lord Of The Rings - Fellowship Of The Ring

Now I better be careful what I say here. Any criticism of Tolkein and the devotees of Middle Earth will throw me in to the very fires of Doom while hitting me over the head with a hobbit.
I confess I have never read Tolkein. Yes I admit it! Dagnamit! I thought the lord of the rings was Dale Winton's autobiography. And as the hype grew I was made to feel ignorant and uncultured for not knowing the Elvish for "where is the beach". So with this guilt and naivety I watched as the film began.
We are told in the prologue of the evil Sauron and his powerful ring which allows him to rule the lands of Middle Earth. But there is resistance, Sauron killed and the ring lost.
Cut to a village looking remarkably like telletubby land, populated by wee Oirish leprechaun fellas. To be sure to be sure. Here Gandalf the wizard discovers the ring, recently inherited by the hobbit Frodo Baggins.
Meanwhile the evil wizard Saruman, with the sort of long white hair that baddies have in kung-fu movies (or Cher these days), is preparing an army for the returning Sauron. (Sauron Saruman, Po-tay-toe Po-tah-toe). Therefore a council of Middle Earth races decides the ring must be destroyed in the fires from which it was forged. And so Frodo, Gandalf and a selection of Dwarves (or the razorly challenged as they like to be called), Elves and, oh yeah Men begin their journey.
Now cinematically it's gorgeous. Huge, sweeping panoramas reflecting the epic nature of the tale itself. It's a wonderful advert for New Zealand.
However it's a very dry and joyless affair. The characters are all so earnest and heroic, but with no warmth. But this sort of criticism is mostly aimed at Tolkein himself (oh dear). For example the ridiculously dramatic names like the Sword of Kerrang, the Mountain of Molehill, or the Isle of Lucy.
Visually it's very impressive, such as dueling wizards, battling demon armies and raging rivers like something out of a Guinness ad. But slogging through three hours of it becomes an ordeal. This is the first of a trilogy, the other films have already been shot, but that's no excuse for such a terrible, terrible, terrible ending! It just stops. "Come everybody let's rescue our friends. This way!" "FIN". What a jip.
I certainly won't be queuing for the next instalment, especially as I'll be too busy hiding from Tolkein fans wanting to beat me with a copy of Harry Potter.

Planet Of The Apes (2001)

As a fan of the original 1968 version of The Planet Of The Apes with Charlton Heston in a loincloth damning us all to hell I was particularly excited by a remake starring Mark Wahlberg and directed by the stylish Tim Burton.
It’s 2029 and Captain Leo Davidson, played by former rapper Marky Mark, is orbiting Saturn with a menagerie of genetically engineered primates investigating a purple swirly thing in space. Our hero follows one of his chimps into the dangerous special effect where he is catapulted forward in time and crash lands on the planet.
He is caught by intelligent apes and sold into slavery to jungle VIP Helana Bonham-Carter, the Senator’s daughter and Human-Lover, without the bestiality that may suggest.
With her help Davidson escapes with the other slaves. Following a homing signal the gang head towards Monkey Mark’s ship out in the desert, which coincidently is also the location of the ape equivalent of Eden. They are followed by the king of the swingers, the murderous General Thad, who sees no evil, nor perceives evil through any of his senses whatsoever.
With the simian army approaching Davidson is as worried as a brass monkey in December, until all the humans from the surrounding tribes turn up to follow him. Well human see, human do. And before you can say Braveheart the good Captain becomes the leader of the human rebellion.
Tim Burton describes the film not as a remake but a reimagining, and he’s right. The most significant difference is that the humans talk. Unlike the earlier version they are not animals in a simple role reversal, they are people, but are a kind of untouchable underclass. And so the film is sending a message about animal rights/human rights and opression.
As I would expect from Burton it is stylisticly breathtaking. As you would expect the make-up is excellent, but more impressively is the way the actors jump, swing, and move like apes.
There is also humour if you know where to look such as the chimpanzee organ grinder and a small man in a fez collecting money. Or in-jokes such as when Davidson is first caught and is told by a Gorilla to "take you filthy hands off me, you damn dirty human!"
Charlton Heston has a similar in-joke when he appears as General Thad’s dying father in the greatest role reversal since Cheeta started drinking coffee. The only problem I had was the poor way everything was resolved so quickly, with a Gorilla soldier even giving a speech about humans and apes living in peace and harmony and everything will be wonderful and angels will get their wings. As long as you put your fingers in your ears for that bit and go "la-la-la-la!" you’ll be fine.
Famously Charlton Heston’s character didn’t realise he was on planet Earth despite the fact he was on a planet with the exact same atmosphere, gravity, and where the indigenous apes spoke ENGLISH! That is, not until he saw the ruins of the Statue of Liberty. It was a startling image and I believe Burton has continued that tradition with a great final scene which is designed to set up a sequel or I’ll be a monkey’s father’s sibling!

The Remains Of Tom Lehrer.
?2 or there abouts, but first let me remove your doubts.

Some of the funniest songs I have ever met
can be found on this wonderful box set
containing all of Tom Lehrer’s lyrics.
And I think it’s safe to guarantee
that after you’ve listened to his CD
you’ll be rolling around in hysterics.

His songs are so twisted and sordid
I’m surprised they ever got recorded
but thankfully he found his niche.
From "The Irish Ballad" and "Old Mexico"
to "The Old Dope Peddler" and "The Masochism Tango"
each is a perfectly formed masterpiece.

No one can take the piss
better than this brilliant satirist
with humour as clever as it is dark.
He will list the elements gleefully
before singing you a song from World War Three
while we are poisoning the pigeons in the park.

In the nightclubs they would listen
to this moonlighting mathematician
and he still lectures at Harvard.
But before it went all too far
he retired from being a star
as he really couldn’t be bothered.

This is a collection of two halves
which should please those studying maths [ouch!]
so now you can follow your whim.
For straight down the middle it is split almost equally
between studio recordings and audiences waiting eagerly
to irrelevantly waste an evening with him.

And if like me you get pensive
if your collection is not comprehensive
then you needn’t look very far.
Here is everything, from shows in famous cities
recent recordings, and children’s ditties
and old favourites with full orchestra.

And if you think it costs the earth
believe me you get you money’s worth.
They’ve put in as much as they can pack
including every rhyme and couplet
into an impressive little booklet.
It’s a magnificent eighty page hardback.

And I’m sure you’ll find it nifty
to own these treasures from nineteen-sixty
even if it was my strangest review yet.
And if you buy the collection from this
then to you I am willing to promise
it is something you will never regret.

Thank you for hearing my song
even when it went slightly wrong
but it’s not easy this verse writing lark.
British Rail like a sonnet
may only have fourteen lines upon it
but we’ll meet when you are nearer
over the remains of Tom Lehrer
as we poison the pigeons in the park.

Jurassic Park III

Jurassic Park III. That sounds like a bad idea to me. And this one was neither written by Michael Crichton nor directed by Steven Spielberg. Hmmm. This sounds like a really bad idea to me. But I had heard some favourable things said about it, and it had to be better than that mess of a movie with Jeff Goldblum loose in San Diego.
In desperate need of money to fund his research, Sam Neill, palaeontologist and survivor of the disaster of Jurassic Park agrees to guide a rich thrill seeking couple as they fly over the second Jurassic Park island which still contains some of the artificially created dinosaurs. However a plane crash leaves him stranded on the island along with the tourist couple, his young assistant and a gaggle of mercenaries which if this had been another show would all be wearing red jerseys.
The real reason for their journey however was not for the jollies as the couple had previously claim but to rescue their son who had also crashed on the island eight weeks before. And sure enough the dinosaurs start to attack and begin picking off the less well paid actors, and sure enough Sam Neill is rescued by jungle boy, son of the not so rich couple. Reunited the streamlined group must find a way to get off the island, while being constantly chased by a giant super predator, who has swallowed a mobile phone like a 21st century version of the tick-tock crocodile from Peter Pan. And so it settles down into the usual getting trapped and escaping, trapped and escaping, trapped and escaping like some prehistoric episode of Dr Who.
Now without Spielberg or Crichton I worried this would just be some terrible hatchet job cashing in on the popularity of the original. But with the return of Sam Neill’s character and with a plot very similar to the original it still had a feeling of continuity with the previous movies.
I certainly find Sam Neill’s character a more likeable hero than the Jeff Goldblum’s character who centre of the first sequel. And as a second sequel it could take a more relaxed attitude towards the science such as communicating with dinosaurs and ending with a nice happy ecological disaster.
So it sticks to a formula, you know who are the good guys, you know romance will blossom, you know who will live and who will die, this is undemanding entertainment. So knowing the film was following the formula as it was I was thrown by the ending. Expecting one last final showdown the film ended abruptly and with a whimper.
Unfortunately the surprises of the original film can never be recaptured and so you do get a feeling of deja vu. Even the computer generated Barneys fail to impress anymore. You have seen all this before, there is nothing new here. But if you enjoy Hollywood actors running for their lives from big scary monsters, and don’t we all, then there is no reason why you can’t enjoy more of the same.

The Mummy Returns

"The Mummy" was an unashamedly high-octane Hollywood action flick. Knowingly formulaic, it still entertained and thrilled us simple folk for its duration. A take your brain offline and engage popcorn sort of a film. So I expected much the same from this sequel, and my great expectations were not disappointed.
The convoluted plot sprawls out before us, containing many sweeping panoramas, acres of archaeological adventure and more computerised fiends than you can shake a digitalized digit at.
We begin in Ancient Egypt, where a warrior king with a preposterous name, lost and alone in the desert, sells his soul to Anubis - The Dog Faced God, and cover star for Pedigree Chum.
The Scorpion King is given an army from the Underworld, with which he promptly begins to maim, destroy and disfigure. But now, both he and his army lie in wait, until the day they are called upon once more.
In 1933 Egypt it has been nine years since our heroes defeated the mummy Imhotep, and their family of stereotypes including Butch American, Brainy but Beautiful Librarian, and Comic Relief Englishman has been increased with a son, the irrepressible and spunky Wee Scamp.
While on an archaeological dig, our team discover the bracelet of Anubis that will lead whoever wears it to the Preposterous King and his demonic army. Better look after that then, we wouldn’t want any evil curators stealing that and trying to take over the world now do we. Whoops!
Well at least the villains haven’t resurrected The Mummy in order to assist them in their dastardly plans. Ah! Oh dear.
What follows is an action packed roller-coaster ride of clichés, laughably gung-ho action sequences, with some minor death, reincarnation and some profound social commentary thrown in. Apart from the last one. I found some aspects of the story unnecessarily complicated, such as having two bad guys, one with the threat of being resurrected and the other left over from the previous film.
Yes, the film is formulaic. We know what’s going to happen, and they know we know what’s going to happen. As our comical English chum describes, "Ah! It’s the old destroy the world ploy is it."
And this film could rival Toy Story for Computer Generated Images. Some more effective than others. The army of dog-faced demons was nice to see, but they overstretched themselves when trying to create a convincingly human looking CGI.
But despite this the film delivers the thrills and the laughs in all the right places making this a very enjoyable piece of Hollywood Hokum.
And any similarity between a corpse rising from the dead and Margaret Thatcher is purely coincidental.
See My Review Of The Mummy.

Pearl Harbour

When I entered the cinema I already knew the critics had mercilessly panned this film. So I looked forward to slating the movie myself.
It's 1941, and a talented pilot of the American Air Force courts the pretty young nurse from the General Hospital. They're in love, but he volunteers a squad of American pilots fighting the war in Europe. He leaves his love, but while fighting is lost in action. The young girl is distraught, but finds solace with the deceased pilot's best friend. Until, that is, the pilot returns throwing everything into confusion and leaving the girl wondering who she loves.
Meanwhile larger decisions are being made. As war continues to wage between The Allies and The Third Reich, Japan plans a surprise attack on Hawaii. And I probably won't be giving too much away if I tell you they attack Pearl Harbour.
It's so much easier to review a bad film than it is a good film. So I left the cinema very disappointed because this isn't a bad film.
They managed to achieve what few war films achieve, by trying to look at the events from all sides. So we see the British as they fight hard against their enemy, and how tough it was. Such as when our American pilot is first introduced to his bullet ridden and bloodstained plane.
We see the Americans, waiting to be inevitably dragged into the war. Knowing the Japanese are planning something, but being completely in the dark as to what that could be.
And we see the Japanese, planning their attack and why they do it, without being demonised or portrayed as the villains, which is something I’ve never liked.
But central to the film is the love story. In the beginning this is the main focus of the film, with the war as merely the backdrop - much in the same vein as "Titanic", only with less cheese. There's even humour and laughs to be had.
Then the harbour is attacked and the focus changes. The destruction of the fleet is very impressive and the highlight of the film, while avoiding the "realism" and gore of films like "Saving Private Ryan". However, they do slip into slightly gung-ho action territory when our cast leap to their planes and decide to retaliate.
Now if the film ended there this would be a very favourable review. Unfortunately the film continues for far too long after the action at Pearl Harbour. 45 minutes longer in fact, containing the consequences and aftermath of the attack.
And this was the films biggest flaw, trying to fit into two different genres that are pulling it in different directions. First is a wartime love story, while at the same time trying to be a serious dramatisation of WW2. So maybe they should have reduced the dominance the romantic element played in the earlier part of the film, showing us instead more of the other characters whose lives were affected by these events. Or indeed gone completely the other way as a simple romance movie.
However, don't be influenced by the critics. Be influenced by me. See the film, then send me lots of money. Or just see the film.
See My Review Of Titanic.

Bless The Child

Welcome Ladies and Gentlemen. And it's a pleasure to see so many of you here today. Later we will all sing hymn number 666, while our organist, Mrs Peacock, will pass round the collection plate to both of you. But first, we begin this week's sermon, which I have entitled "Christ and His Second Coming".
Halleluiah!
My parable begins with Kim Basinger. While returning home she is approached by a woman who points out the star in the sky and foretells of the coming of a great one. Could this be a prophet? Or just a nutter on a bus. We will never know.
However, no sooner has our Kim walked through her front door than she is accosted by her drug addict sister, who then promptly leaves abandoning her new born baby girl, Cody.
Six years pass and we learn the child is different. Maybe it's her arched back, her emotional detachment or her ability to spin plates with her divine powers.
Yes!
Meanwhile, six-year-old children are going missing in a Slaughter of the Innocent, so a cop expert on religious cults is brought in.
And lo', the child Cody is snatched by said cult leader and his brethren of Satanists. She is the one they have been searching for. If they can turn her and bring her onto their side then surely nothing can stand in their way of their evil purpose. Except for Cult Cop and Kim Basinger that is.
Testify!
This is a story that successfully plays on the fears most moderate people have of cults and some of the more extreme aspects of religion. This is nothing new and has been used with varying success in the past in such films as "The Exorcist" and "Stigmata".
And this should have been enough to carry the film. However, eager to fill their gore quota, the makers give us some completely unnecessary and unpleasant scenes. If I were to say, "Careful with those knitting needles! You could have somebody's eye out!" you would get the idea.
The film makes parallels to the life of Jesus, including the temptation by the Devil, in the form of the sinister Cult Leader played by Rufus Sewell, as he tries to convince the girl that God is dead.
But the name that will sell the film is Ms Basinger, and she certainly does a competent job but her role is significantly reduced in the second half of the film.
And the child actor is very good, as child actors often are.
You may have seen films of this type before, but at does try to keep one foot in reality, successfully avoiding the trap of getting too pretentious and disappearing up it's own ascension.
Here Endeth The Lesson.
Amen!

Toothpaste

Say goodbye to dental drudgery. Long gone are the days when the only way to keep your teeth clean was with sandpaper and Ajax, and the only way to them falling out was with blu-tac. Today's modern toothpastes are the convenient and painless way to oral hygiene happiness.
The history of the toothpaste is a long and interesting one, so we won't go into it here. It was first invented by miners in the goldrush of eighteen hundred and nineteen seventy-three, who discovered the acid used to dissolve mineral ore could also be used to dissolve food from their mouths after a meal, and also had a pleasing minty taste. Unfortunately the acid would also have a nasty habit of dissolving their teeth as well. These days of course, when it comes to toothpaste, there's more choice than an Amsterdam brothel. And picking the right toothpaste for you can be, quite literally, the difference between life and death. With a range of formats such as pump dispenser and classic tube, and enough colours to match any bathroom tiles, the world of toothpaste fashion and aquafresh chic can be a confusing one.
First we can not stress enough how important it is that your toothpaste should contain at least 0.32% Sodium Fluoride, as anything less than this will be a false economy. You may be tempted to purchase three crates of Signal toothpaste from a market stall while on holiday abroad, but remember this is most likely counterfeit goods. Please remember to check the stallholder's breath if you are unsure.
We also know how kids love to show-off their brand names in the school yard, and if you can afford to give your children Ribena Toothkind, please remember not to give your children anything more than a pea-sized amount.
So our best buy recommendation for a family on a budget would have to be Sainsbury's own brand. I know that may shock some of the more traditional connoisseur out there who consider anything other than established toothpastes to be crass and vulgar, but this really is quite special. It comes in a delicate nouvou vert, but it's not just a pretty paste, with a consistency that stands proud on your brush and a subtle mintyness that goes well with any meal.
So what next in toothpaste technology. Well, there are rumours of a smoky bacon flavour in the pipeline. But some say that with the advent of accessories such as "Floss" that it has all gone too far, and that the art of tooth cleaning has been taken over by cynical capitalism. Whereas we don't necessarily agree with that, we do believe you should wait before spending your money to see if these new developments take off.
And remember - never swallow. Advice that is as true in life as it is in dental care.

Hannibal

This has to be one of the most eagerly anticipated films of recent years, certainly by me. The sequel to The Silence of the Lambs, which left us with a cliff-hanger ending when the serial killer Dr Hannibal Lecter escaped from custody to "have an old friend for dinner". So how would this latest instalment compare to The Silence? How would it compare to the book? Would the film suffer from the change of lead actress, and how would the change of director affect the final product? Armed with these questions, doubts and a touch of excitement, I entered the cinema.
It has been ten years since Dr Lecter’s escape. Clarice Starling is now an experienced agent in the FBI, but after a botched drugs operation her career is in jeopardy. Mason Verger is Hannibal the Cannibal’s only surviving victim, disfigured after Dr Lecter persuaded him to feed his own face to the dog, "It seemed like a good idea at the time." Seeking revenge, Verger manipulates Clarice back onto the Lecter case in an attempt to draw the doctor, and plans to feed his former psychiatrist feet first to his specially bred man-eating boars. Dr Lecter himself is living in Florence, finally with a room with a view and living the good life, after eight years in a basement cell. But can he continue to evade the efforts of the FBI, the Florence police and Mason Verger to catch him? Or will his growing obsession with Clarice be his undoing?
So how does it compare with The Silence? Well you can’t. With a different actress playing Starling, and more importantly a different director, with Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lecter as the only constant, it would be as pointless as trying to compare "Silence" with the first Hannibal film, "Manhunter" directed by Michael Mann. Julianne Moore does well in the role of Clarice Starling and the film certainly doesn’t suffer from the absence of Jodie Foster. It is the change of director, as Ridley Scott takes over from Jonathan Demme, which is the more noticeable. The film no longer has the gothic feel of The Silence of the Lambs, which was certainly a huge part of that film’s success. Also I feel Ridley Scott didn’t exploit Mr Hopkins full potential.
Then how does it compare to the book? Well it is a necessarily stripped down version, with much of the flotsam removed. As I was reading the book I couldn’t help thinking about which scenes would make classic cinema. I was slightly disappointed with Mason Verger’s make-up, not being as horrific as that described in Thomas Harris’ book. However the final dinner scene was everything I hoped it would be.
One of the most significant departures from the book is the change of ending. I haven’t met anyone who did like the ending to the book "Hannibal", and so I was quite happy with the alternative and more satisfactory ending given by the film.
So overall we are left with a completely different and separate film to The Silence of the Lambs. Anthony Hopkins is still excellent in his role, though maybe could have been used better. There are some excellent images which I’m sure will become classic as Dr Lecter’s mask. And the last fifteen minutes are certainly worth sticking around for. However I was left with the feeling that this was a slightly second rate spin-off from the original. But one of the best second rate spin-offs I’ve seen.

Blackadder Back and Forth

When I first heard they were making a Blackadder film to be shown at the Millennium Dome in Greenwich, I threw my cap in the air, kissed the dog and proceeded to do a merry jig down the street. That is until I realised my celebrations may have been premature, because being a poor person as I am, if I waited until this new cinematic treat was premiered on poor people’s telly, I could be waiting till the next millennium. And that made me sad. But then came people bearing satellite dishes and video recorders and I praised the Sky!
It’s New Year’s Eve 1999 and Blackadder is holding a dinner party. As part of an elaborate prank Baldrick has built an authentic looking time machine from the original plans of Leonardo da Vinci himself. The duo’s surprise when they discover the machine actually works is nothing compared to their surprise when they realise they don’t know how to return to the present. So out heroic pair are forced to roam time, meeting major figures from British history, such as William Shakespeare and Robin Hood, and causing merry chaos as they go.
This 40-minute film made for the Dome is Blackadder with a purpose. And that purpose is to showcase British history. To illustrate the events that made this country great. Well at least that’s what the Millennium Commission hoped what they would get. Instead they got the film, surprisingly, with all the original cynical humour of Blackadder intact. They indiscriminately take the kidney by-product out of British history, while also being gloriously non-“pc” about the French, which is always a bonus in my book.
A few concessions were made for the Dome audience such as toning down the language like Blackadder being forced to use a restrained “codswallop”. And occasionally I felt the film slipped into self parody, especially with the over-use of simile, for example; “Is it as cunning as a fox what was made professor of cunning at Oxford University but has now moved on to better things and currently heads the commission of cunning at the UN?”
However, the original cast including Stephen Fry, Hugh Laurie, Tim McInnerny, Miranda Richardson, Rik Mayall, and Tony Robinson easily managed to pull it off, and were all on top form. But Rowan Atkinson made the film; his reaction when he first opens the door of the time machine is classic, and who thought such confusion could be caused by a raspberry lollipop!
The problem when they make these sort of spin-off films is that they never live up the original series. Luckily for us there’s no such problem here, why it’s Blackadder like your mother used to make.

Roswell High

“And now on BBC2 new science-fiction” said the announcer. “Oh good.” I thought. Little did I realise what a load of old codswallop I was letting myself in for. Roswell High is a right load of old balderdash!
If you haven’t seen it I’ll explain the plot. Three human looking aliens (from the planet young american models I presume) now 16 and living in Roswell must struggle to keep their real identities a secret with the help of a few human friend while trying to discover their true origins. There are no jokes, no SFX, and no gratuitous violence – what’s the point!
After seeing the success of “Buffy – The Vampire Slayer” the programme makers obviously thought, “Hey! I could do that!” without understanding what makes Buffy so popular. When I initially saw Buffy I tried desperately to dislike it. Surely a programme with this many young, good-looking people can’t be good. But eventually I was seduced. What the people behind Rowell High have done is taken the basic ingredients of Buffy, carefully blending them together until they achieved a perfectly balanced fusion, watched it rise slowly in the oven, seasoned to taste… then chucked it all in the bin and went out for pizza instead.
Oh yes, it’s all very glossy, and the stars are all so bright, but as far as I’m concerned these count against the show rather than being in its favour, and shows it up to be a shallow and superficial experience. All these kids are meant to be sixteen! So where are all the gawky, gangly kids with the bad haircuts and acne!
And what about the subject matter, talk about missing the boat. Aliens! That’s so last century. And why do these aliens have some sort of magical powers. Why? Why is that? And then the sexual tension is done so heavy handedly, I despairingly shout at the TV, “Oh for God sake, stop dancing round each and get it over with!” And the last thing you want is heavy handed sexual tension.
And don’t even get me started on those terrible voice-overs. The programme is so far up its own, it could clean its duodenum from there. Personally I feel science fiction is inherently ridiculous and so science fiction without jokes is somehow missing the point. Ah go on, give us a grin.
Finally I got so bored with this programme I couldn’t bear to sit through it anymore. I watch Futerama (In Color) on channel 4 instead. Perhaps the makers of Roswell High could benefit from doing the same.

Gladiator.

The year is 181AD, and somewhere in Germania, (which I’m guessing is near Germany perhaps…), the Roman army is on the brink of battle with the barbarians. And before you can say deforestation, the blood and the guts and the flaming torches fly. Which was a relief for me because if something doesn’t blow up in the first ten minutes I automatically class it as an art film.
The battle is won but the emperor lost when his son, Commodus - the devious deviant, murders him. General Maximus defies the new emperor but manages to escape with his life, only to be sold as a slave. From here it’s a swift transition to gladiatorial stardom, where effectively he becomes the “Wolf” of his day. However our hero secretly seeks his vengeance against the new emperor in this classic tale of a Roman General turned slave turned Gladiator turned saviour of empire turned epic Hollywood blockbuster. Obviously this will be compared with other epic film of the Roman Empire, but let me tell you this, it is far better than “Carry On Cleo”.
The film is visually very impressive. The Coliseum has been rebuilt using computer-generated images that, surprisingly, actually work. And long gone are the days of Charlton Heston when all you got to wear was a leather shirt and some baby oil, this is full battle armour with headless barbarian accessories. This was also Oliver Reed’s last film before he died and he gives an excellence performance as Maximus’ gladiatorial mentor. Joaquin Phoenix gives an equally excellent performance as the creepy and sinister Commodus.
However I was quite surprised how graphic the violence was, nothing too terrible - there were a few heads and limbs flying about, but there was more than I would expect in a mainstream film like this.
And do you know what, I suspect it may not have been entirely historically accurate. Apparently Commodus’ reign as emperor was a benign and peaceful one that lasted 12 years, but seems more like 12 days in the flick. Apparently he died when he was strangled in the bath – tricky stuff that soap-on-a-rope.
However when all is said and done this was really a very good action movie. A proper cheer the hero, boo the villain, gasp at the stunts, laugh at the violence type of film. With some fantastic sets and costumes to give it that epic touch. And not a giant cottonbud in sight.
“Infamy, infamy, they’ve all got it in for me!” That had nothing to do with the review I just wanted to say it.

The Eurovision Song Contest 2000.

We wuz robbed I tell you! Another 168 points and we could have won it. The UK’s entry was "Don't play that song again." - I really don't think you have a choice.
If you don't know Eurovision is a song contest where (almost) every European country enters a song and the show is broadcast over the whole of Europe. It is suppose to bring Europe together through the medium of music, though it’s really just a chance for us to point and laugh at the funny foreigners. And since it was Sweden who won last year, this year's competition was held in Stockport… sorry Stockholm! It very easy to make fun of the Eurovision Song contest – so let’s crack on with it.
The competition got off with a flying start with Israel and some of the most tuneless singing I've heard since mi mam's Hilda Ogden impression.
There was the usual assortment of weird instruments such as the Romanian entry (the panpipe solo was a bad idea).
Then were the Germans trying to out-cheese the cheesy with an over the top send up of a song called "Wadda hadda dudda da" (which did surprisingly well in the voting, they obviously didn't realise the Germans were extracting the Michael).
Latvia entered what appeared to be a student Indie band who I'm sure I've seen playing in the Student union bar.
And then there was Sweden's own tribute to the err... North American Indians. Hmmmmmm...
But for me it’s the voting that is the best bit, because it shows up all the bigotry and the political shenanigans. For example every year all the Nordic countries vote for each other, Sweden votes for Norway, Norway votes for Denmark… And Ireland gives the UK nowt.
And then there are the representatives of each country trying to build up their part with banal chit-chat before giving us their votes, like our own Colin Berry. Colin Berry spends all year reading the news on BBC radio and this was his big chance!
"And here behind me is the River Thames..."
Go for it Col.
Anyway Denmark won it with a couple of old guitarists (which I thought went out of fashion years ago - well obviously not in Denmark) who did a bop-a-long song in a Cher "simultaneously singing and gargling" type stylee. They were nice chaps though, very gracious and dead chuffed, and gave it some welly at the end.
I thought there were some half-decent songs this year, especially from the new east European competitors. But in my opinion it was Russia that wuz robbed - but since when was Russia part of Europe (I mean apart from 1945-1990*).
Oh and finally, something I noticed in the credits,
"Green room furniture by IKEA",
Strange people the Swedes.
Still there was ABBA.
And that's it.

* Politics.

Fermat’s Last Theorem by Simon Singh

Have you ever been interested in the history and the development of Mathematics. You haven’t! Well this book may change your mind.
Essentially this is a book of two halves – I hope I haven’t blinded you with maths too early.
Fermat was a French Judge and amateur Mathematician who in the seventeenth century claimed to have proved that the equation Z^n = X^n + Y^n has no solutions – but unfortunately popped his clogs before he could explain further. And so the first half of the book is concerned with the story of the origins and subsequent attempts to prove this theorem, both before and after Fermat’s death. It is a story that touches upon almost every major mathematician of the last 2000 years.
The author manages that difficult task I popular science writing of keeping the reader’s interest in the story while including just enough science so as to not overwhelm the reader which makes so many similar books unreadable. Not being a mathematician himself Simon Singh manages to explain such concepts as Pythagoras’ theorem and irrational numbers so that any school leaver can understand them. (Irrational numbers are just like rational ones except for three days of the month). But the book also includes a number of appendices that also clearly explains some of the more difficult ideas.
The second half concerns itself with the story of an Englishman called Andrew Wiles who after seven years of work finally managed to prove the problem that many of his peers were beginning to believe impossible. From this point on the concepts become so involved and abstract that Simon Singh cleverly decides to ignore the maths and concentrate on the story of Wiles and his struggle.
After reading this well written book hopefully you will understand the beauty and satisfaction of mathematical proof. But I’m a mathematician myself so perhaps I should confess to some slight bias. Right I must be off to my second order linear differential equations. Sounds impressive doesn’t it. No I’ve no idea what it means either.
WARNING – This book contains graphic language! (x-axis, y co-ordinate, squared paper…)

The Blair Witch Project.

“In November 1999 a young reviewer went into Lancaster cinema to see “The Blair Witch Project”. All that was found was this review.”
Don’t believe the hype – it’s not the scariest film ever, it’s not the scariest film of the year, hell it’s not even the scariest film I’ve seen today, (The Sound of Music was on telly this morning – look out, Nuns!).
Three young filmmakers go to a small American town to make a documentary about its local myth. After hearing testimony from “Mad Mary” and other “slightly miffed” locals about the terrible goings on in the woods, off they trot for a camping weekend.
From this point in it just becomes a film about people getting lost, which was funny to start with, then became dull, then after another hour became “oh just hurry up and die” dull. If I wanted to watch a whole bunch of people get lost I would explain the rules of Cricket to American tourists.
They loose the map, nerves fray, tensions rise and they wake up one morning suffering from piles – piles of rocks that is. But not just any old rocks, oh no, these are scary rocks, because they’re in piles, y’see scary stuff. They follow this with some scary sticks and some scary nighttime noises – noises in a wood, who’d have thought it!
Then the cameraman disappears during the middle of the night; this revelation is promptly followed by the remaining two getting lost. Next morning instead of rocks a more unpleasant present is left outside the tent. I won’t go into details, suffice it to say how is he going to pick his nose now?
In the last twenty seconds they find a house and finally stop being lost – because they’re too busy being killed, and you think “good”.
The young actors couldn’t even act, (which I suppose just makes them “young”), though they did do a good “scared in the woods” but that be because they were. I think the idea is you visit the web-site, where you'll find police reports, interviews with "the family" and a history of the Blair Witch myth, and you’re supposed to go into the cinema thinking all this is for real.
So not a scary film – unless you’re particularly scared of lost people. In which case you should go to the Lake District on a Sunday, the place is full of them.
I would like to apologise to the actors’ mums, the directors’ mums and to my mum. I take full responsibility for this review, it’s all my fault. I’m sorry. What was that? Arrgggghhhhh!!!…

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