Rob Wickings's Blog, page 69

The Summer Is Ended And We Are Not Yet Saved: X&HT Read Discordia

There's a problem with modern polemic journalism, and it's all to do with the G-word.

Don't get me wrong. I'm a big fan of Hunter Thompson's writing. Hell, I've expropriated his opening riff from Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas for a piece of my own (unpublished and will remain so) fiction.

But his work has such a heavy influence over journalism post-Gonzo that it's difficult to find a way clear of it, and remind ourselves that writers like Orwell and Twain had a lock on angry, boots-on-the-ground work long before Hunter and Ralph Steadman faced down a duststorm at the Mint 500.

Laurie Penney, writer for The New Review and The New Statesman, and a girl that knows how to wield a red Sharpie, has teamed up with cartoonist and chronicler of the Occupy New York movement Molly Crabapple to fire off a new shot in the war against the 1%. Discordia follows their exploits in Greece last summer, in the aftermath of a mean season of riots and strike action that nonetheless saw a right-wing, austerity-hungry government narrowly elected to power and start to turn the screws.

The easy tag line would be “A Girl's Own Fear And Loathing.” Let's not do that (even though Laurie herself acknowledges the precedence). Sure, Discordia shares some DNA with the earlier, seminal work–it's graphic journalism, with Molly's curlicues and fleshy linework replacing Steadman's stabs and inky jabs. The art plays off the words and vice versa, creating a duet. You couldn't successfully have one without the other. The two are as perfect a fit for each other as Steadman and Thompson.

The difference is in the setting and the message. Laurie and Molly don't have the luxury of a press pool or a fancy hotel to retreat to when things get rough. They're bedding down on floors, on sofas, sharing the bars, parties and demos of the young activists and writers they're writing about and illustrating. The sense of lives lived amidst chaos, of pleasure grabbed on the run is palpable.

What comes across most clearly is the fact that the fight isn't over. Strike action continues, demonstrations still take place, and the continuing struggle against the forces of austerity and a burgeoning fascist takeover with the growth of The Golden Dawn are told in Laurie's trade-mark terse, propulsive prose.

The joy of gonzo is the way that the journalist becomes part of the story, and that's very much the case with Discordia. Laurie is a hard-line veteran of innumarable protests and sit-ins, wrapped up in a tiny, elfin package. Molly, all big hair and high heels, is an artist on a mission. They launch themselves heedlessly into adventure and never mind the tears and bruises. As a witty post-script tells, Molly manages to get herself arrested on her return to New York as she returns to the Occupy barricades. It's increasingly easy to piss off a cop in America, especially if you dare to take their photo.

Discordia is a daring, tough and lovely piece of polemic journalism that doesn't care about objectivity or balance. Laurie and Molly went to Greece to tell the unreported stories, to show us the people that we'd normally never get to meet. The only balance these girls are interested in are the scales of justice, and Discordia makes it perfectly plain that they are seriously out of whack.

Discordia, by Laurie Penny and Molly Crabapple, is available to buy now.

In the UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Discordia-ebook/dp/B009HVQ1JW

In the US: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Discordia-ebook/dp/B009HVQ1JW

 

Le Cinema De Clive: Safety Not Guaranteed

Mumblecore time-travel romance, you say? Clive is intrigued…

Amidst all the awards season hoopla, with one nomination-heavy contender after another parading their wares on UK cinema screens like contestants in the world’s most expensive beauty contest, here’s one that might have passed you by.

‘Safety Not Guaranteed’ is a US indie sci-fi/rom-com that comes to the UK on a very limited cinema release before hitting the usual Blu-ray/DVD/on demand/download channels. It’s the story of Darius (Aubrey Plaza: ‘Scott Pilgrim Vs The World’) an intern at a Seattle magazine, who goes on a road trip with cynical journalist Jeff (Jake Johnson), and workmate Arnau (Karan Soni), to discover the truth behind this small ad:

“*Wanted* Someone to go back in time with me. This is not a joke. You’ll get paid after we get back. Must bring your own weapons. Safety not guaranteed. I have only done this once before.”

It’s a nice hook, and after seeing the trailer it’s what got me to see the movie. I must admit I was expecting a little more SF than was actually delivered. All you ‘Primer’ fans will have to search elsewhere for more low-fi time travel thrills. What we get is a full-on romantic comedy in indie clothes.

Darius discovers that the mysterious writer of the advert is Kenneth (Mark Duplass: ‘Humpday’; Zero Dark Thirty’), an intensely paranoid and private character. In order to discover the truth about him, Darius poses as someone answering the ad, and finds herself being drawn into Kenneth’s strange world. In time-honoured romantic comedy tradition, this odd couple ‘meet cute’ in an amusing scene at a supermarket. However, this being a US indie comedy, the humour is of the deadpan ironic kind.

Producer and star Mark Duplass has pedigree in this area, making his name with heavily naturalistic dramedies with his brother Jay. I haven’t seen any of these so-called ‘mumblecore’ films, as the likes of ‘The Puffy Chair’ don’t seem to have made it to these shores. I do however recognise that ‘Safety Not Guaranteed’ is clearly rooted in 90s US indie film. The arch deadpan style of Hal Hartley, as well as that of ‘Slacker’ era Richard Linklater, is a clear influence.

The story essentially boils down to one question: is Kenneth crazy or not? However, we also get subplots dealing with Jeff as he attempts a kind of time travel of his own: to reconnect with his old High School girlfriend. Jeff also has a project to get Arnau to lose his virginity. None of these subplots are as compelling as the main plot, but to writer Derek Connolly’s credit, he does manage to keep all the various plates spinning until the end. He also makes nice dramatic use of the person going undercover story device (normally seen in cop movies like ‘Donnie Brasco’ and ‘Deep Cover’) to create sympathy for Kenneth’s prickly character.

It’s ultimately down to the two leads to carry ‘Safety Not Guaranteed’, and thankfully this is where the film is strongest. Mark Duplass is commendably deadpan throughout, and keeps the sillier bits of business rooted in the real world. It’s Aubrey Plaza who is a revelation, though. We see her character slowly bloom from a woman still stuck in sullen teenager mode, to a playful co-conspirator.

There are some nice ideas in ‘Safety Not Guaranteed’. The idea of love as an adventure a couple embarks on together; like time travel, a trip that takes courage and may have an devastating effect on the future. That said, I was left with a frustrating sense that it could try harder.

The script felt a little under-developed to me. If you’re trying to plant doubt in the audience’s mind about whether or not Kenneth is really capable of building a time machine, a detail like say, him being a physics major who had dropped out of college would have really helped. At times too, I longed for a slightly less relaxed approach to the comedy. It could have really used the screwball comedy fizz and pace of ‘Bringing Up Baby’, or the high-stakes fun of that daddy of all time travel comedies: ‘Back To The Future’.

I did enjoy ‘Safety Not Guaranteed’ though. Despite its attempt to be too cool for school, once you crack that ironic indie surface, it’s got a heart like a fistful of puppies.

 

Dreams Never End: X&HT Saw Peter Hook And The Light

The prospect of a bunch of chancers playing the first two New Order albums in their entirety, in sequence and in order doesn't sound very appealing.

When that same bunch of chancers is fronted by ex-New Order bassist Peter Hook–that's a different prospect. Three shows in carefully selected venues made Hooky's runthrough of Movement and Power, Corruption And Lies a must-see, and Doco Dom and I were very lucky indeed to get tickets.

No-one at a sold-out Koko in London's hip Camden Town knew what they were going to get, although the worry that we were to be witness to a lazy, phoned-in performance was heavy on everyone's mind.

What we were given was the opposite. Hooky was front and centre, delivering vocals, melodica and his iconic bass sound. This gig was clearly a big deal for him. Hooky made several barbed comments about his nervousness, and, only half-jokingly, how his barrister had advised him to do the gigs. His reputation was, to an extent, on the line here. This was nothing short of an attempt to reclaim New Order's early work, which is based heavily on his clangy, resonant bass lines.

So for me, then, it was a bit of a shock to see how little bass he played last night. Instead, he concentrated largely on getting the vocals right–a task he managed admirably, his voice a strong baritone that feels much more Ian Curtis than Bernard Sumner. This gave Movement a particular frisson. New Order's first album had always been a cross-point, shedding the skin of Joy Division. Performing these songs in a Curtis-like croon made that transition all the clearer. Granted, Hooky delivered vocals on a couple of tracks on Movement, but hearing the whole album with that voice was still a strange experience.

As he's always been the most extroverted member of the band, it was also a bit odd to see just how uncomfortable Hooky was in the spotlight. The nerves were very clearly on show, and he obviously hated playing the melodica, tossing it back in its cradle on his mikestand almost before the last note of a part had been finished. He insisted on replaying the last verse of Denial after forgetting his lines, “like a twat”, as he put it, and he only really seemed to relax during the encore, ripping through Temptation, up on a speaker stack, hammering at his bass. He's not a front man, and it's a brave choice for him to choose not to stalk the backline and let someone else take over vocal duties. Who else could do it, though? I'd love to have been a fly on the wall at those meetings.

These gigs mean a lot to Hooky and to the New Order fanbase at large. I think there's a large proportion of that base that would like nothing more than to see him mess up royally. I'm happy to report that wasn't the case, although there were some odd moments when I wondered. He clearly can't sing and play at the same time, leading to the cognitive dissonance of someone else playing the Hooky basslines while he sings. The band were well-drilled and solid. It seemed strange that Hooky would choose a guitar player that looked so much like Bernie Sumner. But then, he also chose a drummer that was the absolute spit of misanthropic comedian Stewart Lee.

Ultimately, it comes down to the material. You don't dick around with two albums as well loved as these, and Hooky and The Light didn't slack off. When they finally roared into Blue Monday, Koko went berserk, and with good reason. I think we were fearing a car-crash. We got a solid and loving readthrough of songs we know and love, and getting to see Hooky play up close was a treat.

Not quite a triumph, but nowhere near the carcrash we were perhaps expecting. Your turn, New Order…

 

Film Riot: Best Of The Worst

This is a crosspost from my curated week at Ology's Film Riot, entitled Best Of The Worst.

We had an interesting chat about the iconic movie bad guy at Film Riot, and I wanted to bring the argument home. So here's my list: what would yours be and why? Answers in the comments, please…

 

Let's talk about The Best Of The Worst. The top 5 movie villains. A tricky task. It would be easier to put together a top 50. So to do this right, I need to set up some ground rules.

A hero needs a villain. Storytelling 101 states that your main character needs someone in direct opposition, standing in the way in their goal. There are an awful lot of movie bad guys and girls who are just that – cookie-cutter villains with no real motivation other than to stop the hero or heroine from getting the girl or the treasure or the love of their parents or the Ark Of The Covenant. We deserve better.

So, my Best Of The Worst tries to expand the remit. My Top 5 are characters with their own needs and goals. With a fresh point of view, they could be the heroes of the tales in which they find themselves. It's all a matter of viewpoint, really. There are plenty more out there like them. And that's where you come in, Film Rioteers. Let's talk interesting villains.

Darth Vader

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A classic example of the fallen prodigal son. The great hope of the Jedi and the Republic, corrupted and turned to the Dark Side. You could argue that Anakin Skywalker is a little too gullible, a little too easily led by Emperor Palpatine. But that's just another echo of the vast Greek tragedy of Vader's life. He tries and fails to do the right thing, only finding redemption at the very end of the story. Yeah, sure, he tortures his daughter and chops off his son's hand. But he's no planet-killer, like Grand Moff Tarkin. He atones for his crimes with a sacrifice that saves the entire galaxy from tyranny.

(let me slip in a jaw-dropper I discovered only recently. Vader is the Dutch word for “father”. How unsurprised must viewers in the Netherlands have been at the revelations of The Empire Strikes Back?)

 

Hans Gruber

The anti-McClane. Gruber is the opposite of the hero of Die Hard in just about every way. He's European, which for American audiences is one step away from alien. In fact, he's German and played by an Englishman, which is standard Hollywood shorthand for bad guy.

But what we actually have is an urbane, literate gentleman thief, with impeccable clothes sense and a sharp, uncompromising intelligence. He's like Danny Ocean with better facial hair. Hans has vision, and a sense of scale and spectacle. Why knock over a bank when you can take out an entire corporation? I'd love to see a film about a Gruber heist that goes right, where he leaves the lumpen forces of the law for dust. The one point where he and John McClane intersect: they are both equally ruthless at removing obstacles. Check the body count for Hans, and compare it to that of his ostensibly law-abiding nemesis, and then tell me who the real villain of the piece is.

 

Khan Noonien Singh

The system of monarchy is based on the concept that the ruling classes have the right to be at the top of the tree; they have been ordained by a higher power. They have been born to superiority.

Consider, then, Khan Noonien Singh, memorable villain of Star Trek II: The Wrath Of Khan. He has a lot invested in the monarchistic model; he and his retinue have been genetically modified to rule. They are physically and mentally superior. No churchy flummery here. The Khans really are provably better than the rest of us.

So what happens? A benign and wise presence who at one point rules almost a quarter of the globe, Khan is deposed, kicked off Earth and fired into space in suspended animation. He is found by the crew of the Enterprise in the original series episode “Space Seed”. That encounter goes south, and he is then stranded on a planet that quickly turns into a hellhole, one that kills his wife and the majority of his followers.

Frankly, I'd say he has every right to be hacked off at humanity in general, and that smug asshole James Tiberius Kirk in particular as a prime example of the inferior species that just can't seem to get it into their heads that their time is over. I'm no believer in the concept of the Devine Right Of Kings, but Khan is nothing like the usual bunch of gangsters and extortionist who use religious mumbo-jumbo to strengthen their landgrabs. Khan was born with the physical and intellectual tools to put him ahead of the pack. It was our petty jealousies that forced him into exile. In Khan we have a tragic figure, constantly betrayed by those over whom he was created to rule.

 

Roy Batty

Like Khan, Roy Batty's tragedy is hardwired into his very nature. Born as a warrior, given the needs and desires of a man with none of the rights, treated as property and chattel by inferior beings who, when he tries to build a life for himself outside the restrictions they have put in place, sentence him to death. A death, I might add, that is all the crueller given the five-year lifespan encoded into the replicant make-up.

Worse still, he has been given the capacity to feel fear, pain and sorrow, but not the ability to properly deal with it. Roy, Pris, Zhora and Leon are emotional cripples, prisoners of false memories, trapped by past lives that don't even belong to them. It doesn't take much of a stretch to see that the true villain of Blade Runner is the loathsome Dr. Tyrell, who sees no moral problem in creating a slave class of children in adult bodies. Roy Batty's noble death gives us the true meaning of Blade Runner; humanity is a fluid and ever-changing definition, a state of mind as much as a legal or scientific principle.

 

Alex Forrest

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I've long been uncomfortable with the rank misogyny at the heart of James Dearden's script for Fatal Attraction. As such, I have nothing but sympathy for Alex Forrest, the wronged woman who defends her right to love with such naked ferocity.

The bad guy here, in my opinion, is Dan Gallagher, the unrepentant horn-dog played by Michael Douglas. He learns no lessons about his wrong-doing, apart from the one that states it's OK to sleep around and then kill any woman who calls him out on his unacceptable behaviour.

It bothers me that the term “bunny-boiler” has become lazy shorthand for a woman that doesn't act in a way that fits outmoded gender stereotypes. It bothers me that Alex should be regarded as a villain for simply pointing out that the Gallagher's cosy home life is broken beyond repair. It bothers me that she continues to pursue him after he's broken her heart, frankly. But then love is a tricky thing to quantify or explain. The heart wants what it wants, and the heart is unreliable and cruel.

 

Le Cinema De Clive: Texas Chainsaw 3D

It's a new year, and time for a fresh new approach to film reviews at X&HT.

It's important, as we move on for the curation of the Excuses And Half Truths week on Film Riot, to keep the noise levels high and expand the remit. There's only so much I can do on my ownsome. So I'm delighted to announce that my friend and fellow traveller, Leading Man Clive Ashenden, has kindly agreed to post regular film reviews on the site.

Clive skews horror-wise, so I wasn't surprised at his first piece for me. Witness with delight as he skewers and eviscerates…

(I'm hanging a big fat SPOILER ALERT sign round the neck of this one. Be advised.)

 

 

Stop me if you’ve heard this one six times before:

A van load of college-age friends trespass into the territory of a cannibal family. One by one, they are stalked and killed by a chainsaw-wielding maniac wearing the face of a previous victim as a mask.

Yes, here we go again on the remake/reboot/sequel horror franchise treadmill. And this week’s icon of 70s/80s horror to be disinterred for new generation is: Leatherface. Six years after Jonathan Liebesman’s prequel to the 2003 reboot, Lionsgate has picked up the franchise reins from Michael Bay’s Platinum Dunes company and given us: this.

Erm… gee, thanks.

 

So given that I’ve seen all but one of the previous iterations (I’ve yet to experience the delights of Matthew McConaughey and Renée Zellweger in ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Next Generation’ aka ‘The Return of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre’), and love the original movie; perhaps the first question before we get to whether 2013’s version is any good should be: Why go and see it at all?

Why encourage the remake/reboot/sequel merchants by putting money in their pockets? The short answer to that is that I’m a horror fan. I like to think a discerning one, but I realise that choosing to see ‘Texas Chainsaw 3D’ at the cinema doesn’t really help my case there. Plus, I’m curious.

The longer answer is that I really enjoy watching horror movies in the cinema with an audience. So if I refused to go and watch remakes, reboots or prequels I’d find myself with very few horror options at the cinema outside of horror festivals like Frightfest. Also, God help me: I actually CARE what these people have done with Leatherface and his clan. I feel a strong attachment to Tobe Hooper & Kim Henkel’s original ‘The Texas Chainsaw Massacre’, and some fondness for its bizarre horror-comedy love-child, ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2’. And, that curse of all genre fans, maybe of all film fans: hope. Maybe, just maybe, this one will be great…

Lastly, I find it ironic that a film about a family who recycle parts from dead people into lampshade covers and household ornaments, should find itself treated in the same manner; Apt, even. Plus – it’s in 3D and who doesn’t enjoy being virtually ‘poked in the eye’ with whirring machine tools? Oh… just me then?

So this go-around, the filmmakers have gone back to the source – the original movie. This 2013 movie ignores both the three sequels and the 21st century reboot and its prequel. After a ‘greatest hits’ montage of key moments from the 1974 movie (only in 3D), the new movie picks up directly after the end of that movie. So if you’ve never seen the original movie: SPOILER ALERT – this 2013 version will spoil all the best moments from that movie including the ending.

An angry mob of locals besiege the ‘Sawyer house’, the site of the massacre and visit vigilante justice on its inhabitants, burning the house to the ground and killing everyone inside. The only survivor is a new born baby, whom a local redneck couple raise as their own.

Flash forward to the present day and that baby has grown up to be Heather (Alexandra Daddario), who inherits a house in Texas and takes a roadtrip with her friends to go and collect her inheritance and discover more about her real family. There, a deadly family secret will be unleashed, and the massacre will begin again.

The first thing to note about ‘Texas Chainsaw 3D’ is: what a dull, safe, vanilla exercise in franchise horror. That ‘greatest hits’ montage from the original movie sets the template, and once we get to Texas, the film trudges through a series of tired cover versions of those moments. Also, that having laid out all its backstory on a plate for us in the first ten minutes, we then have to watch our boring Final Girl spend another sixty minutes playing catch up, before she gets to the same place as us, the audience.

‘Texas Chainsaw 3D’ breaks one of the key rules of successful horror cinema: isolate your victims from outside help. Unlike the original, whose house was the only thing for miles around, the new Sawyer house is a Southern mansion, just a few minutes away from a thriving local town of over two thousand inhabitants. The film tries to get around this by having the local law enforcement be corrupt and part of a conspiracy, but there’s always the sense that escape is just a minute away.

A word on continuity: Here’s where things start to get sloppy and where anyone who’s paying attention to the connection between this version and the original will likely lose patience. In the section where the Sawyer house gets burnt, suddenly there are a whole bunch of other family members not present in the original film. Original Leatherface Gunnar Hansen plays a new character called Boss Sawyer… and there are now women in the family! Also, somewhat confusingly, Bill Moseley who famously played Choptop in ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2’, is now playing Drayton Sawyer aka Chef.

Then there’s the time jump. From gravestones in the present day section and the presence of iPhones, we know we’re in 2012. But if the original massacre took place in 1974, that would make her 38 now, not in her early twenties as she clearly is. So the only way this makes any sense is if you assume they’re saying the original massacre actually happened in the late eighties/early nineties. At least the recent prequel/reboot of ‘The Thing’ actually cared about getting its period details right, and did link up with the original in a coherent way…

But even putting such quibbles aside, Texas Chainsaw 3D has a very poor understanding of what makes the original work. Like the tagline for one of sequels said: ‘The Saw Is Family,’ and the original is contains a very twisted (and at times very funny) parody of the nuclear family. It also has THAT HOUSE, a masterpiece of production design filled with grotesque sights. The new version kills off Leatherface’s family in the first few minutes, and burns the original house to the ground, replacing it with a bland mansion that has one odd room in the basement.

One of the scary things about the original was that Leatherface’s crimes were motiveless. This obviously doesn’t meld well with the horror modern franchise, so in this film Leatherface, like Jason and Freddy, gets a revenge motive. This makes him both more generic and less scary in one fell swoop.

Another element that added to the scariness of the original was its grimy, gritty look. Also, it was clearly directed by someone with a unique vision. Director John Luessenhop, previously responsible for the slick, anonymous heist movie ‘Takers’, takes a journeyman approach to this movie too. And it just looks… bland (in 3D). I wasn’t a fan, but it has left me with a new respect for the work of Marcus Nispel on the 2003 reboot, who did at least embrace the grit and grime of the original (albeit in a music video way).

Scratching around for positives, there is one decent 3D jump scare and a couple of nice bits of 3D gore. Also, the film does have a couple of interesting ideas where you can see it is trying to do something different. Unfortunately, they both crop up in the last 20 minutes of by which time it’s difficult to care.

 

There are more things I could criticise ‘Texas Chainsaw 3D’ for, (poor acting, bland characterisation, lack of terror) but I think it’s high time I took a hammer to this pale imitation and dragged its twitching corpse away. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just slam this metal shutter shut and go get my chainsaw…

 

Big Monday: Film Riot And Temporal Tales

Lots of cool stuff happening this morning.

For starters, my week on Film Riot has launched. I'm heading up a discussion on The Best Of The Worst – my top 5 movie villains who have a bit more to offer than simple opposition to the main character. You can check out my picks and join the discussion by clicking the link below.

http://www.ology.com/post/247785/join-the-ology-film-riot

Meanwhile, I'm delighted to announce the latest anthology from The Inkslingers dropped on Amazon yesterday. Temporal Tales is, as the title suggests, a collection of stories about time travel. It features my first contribution for the group, “The Man With The Gun And The Time Machine.” It's available for all your Kindle-enabled devices for the princely sum of 77p. Go fill your boots.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Temporal-Tales-ebook/dp/B00AXBK8B2

 

Apart from that, it's all quiet here. How about you, Readership?

2012: The Year Of Writing, and My Best Of List

I will look back on 2012 as the year that I finally stopped procrastinating.

I started putting my writing out into the marketplace, both as a contributor to anthologies and a novelist in my own right. I took on new writing challenges and found myself rewarded for them. I had the chance to read my work in front of an audience, and talk about it on local radio with a figure I remembered from my childhood.

It was a year when I joined a cinema for the first time since the 80s. It was a year that I saw a Paralympian and an Olympian win a gold medal in front of me. It was a year when I stood backstage at one of the biggest rock concerts in the world and experienced a tiny iota of what it must feel like to be Dave Grohl.

Much as I hate to keep banging on about it, it was a year that, as it ends, finds me with five author entries on Amazon. A couple of years ago that would have been unthinkable.

I look back on 2012 and feel no urge to sit back on my laurels. That was fun. What’s next?

Good question. I sat down a few weeks ago and wrote out a rough plan of the work I wanted to do. The stuff that’s clamouring in my forebrain, eager to be out in the world, as well as the work I’ve promised to other outlets. That plan took me through to spring 2015, and doesn’t provide any room for new projects or unexpected offers. It’s going to be a busy time for me. It isn’t just that I don’t feel the urge to rest on my laurels. I don’t think I’m going to have the chance to do it.

That’s to come. I thought it might be nice to take one last glance back over my shoulder, and note down the books, music, films and so forth that I enjoyed the most over the past 12 months. I mean, now’s the time, right?

SONG OF THE YEAR:

as opposed to album of the year, a short, hot shot of musical bliss. This is the one track that always hits sweetest for me, gets turned up, frequently gets rewound and played again. Gangnam Style or Call Me Maybe? I think not. No, the nod goes to Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings by Father John Misty. Melancholic, hook-laden and brutally earwormy – as you’d expect from the drummer of Fleet Foxes. Fear Fun, the album from which it comes, is a bit patchy, but this track is a thing of beauty.

Bubbling under:

So You’ll Aim Towards The Sky, by The Bootleggers feat. Emmylou Harris, from the Lawless soundtrack.

The Descent, by Bob Mould.

Want It Back, by Amanda Palmer.

The Gravedigger’s Song, by The Mark Lanegan Band.

ALBUM OF THE YEAR:

It’s tricky to find an album that works as a full-length piece of work without being called prog. But there are some artists that are simply best in a long-form environment. My album of the year is The Seer by Swans. It’s a two-hour monster of a record that crosses so many boundaries, and demands so much of the listener while giving so freely of itself. It’s not for everyone, but if you’re willing to be seduced by the drones and bells and sheer vast wall of guitar noise that awaits, then the rewards are infinite. I’ll put it like this–I asked for a high-end pair of headphones for Christmas with this album specifically in mind.

Bubbling Under:

Amanda Palmer: Theatre Is Evil.

Beak: >>

Bruce Springsteen: Wrecking Ball.

Ryan Bingham: Tomorrowland.

FILM OF THE YEAR:

Tricky one, this. It’s been a weirdly uneven year for movies, with some that I’d really been looking forward to stinking up the screen like you wouldn’t believe. In the end, I’ve plumped for a film which not only promised a lot, but delivered on those promises in spades. My film of the year is Dredd. The rebirth of Mega City One’s toughest lawman in a brutal, John Carpenter-style siege plot is a wholly satisfying action movie with real old-school appeal and charm. Sylvester WHO?

Bubbling Under:

Sightseers.

Beasts Of The Southern Wild.

The Master.

Cabin In The Woods.

COMIC OF THE YEAR:

Tricky for different reasons. This year I began reading comics again in earnest, largely due to the purchase of an iPad and Comixology. Once you get over the western obsession with capes and masks, and start reading beyond them, the power of comics as a medium becomes clear. There have been a ton of great books out this year, and it’s tough to pick out one that stands head and shoulders above the rest. I’ve chosen one purely as it speaks to my own predelictions.

My Comic Of The Year is Prophet, Brandon Graham’s reboot of a duff 80′s hero-book. By transplanting the story to a Jodorowskyian wide-screen weird-cosmiche setting, Graham and his crack band of artists have created something very rich and strange indeed.

Bubbling Under:

2000AD: Tharg The Mighty and His Droids.

Ashes: Alex DiCampi and a band of thousands.

Hawkeye: Matt Fraction and David Aja.

Double Barrel: Zander Cannon and Kevin Cannon.

BOOK OF THE YEAR:

I read a lot of books, but I don’t read many contemporary books. My favourite read of the year is Valdez Is Coming by Elmore Leonard, first published in 1970. My list of worthies from the year 2012 is a bit lacking. Or you could call it small but perfectly formed. My Book Of The Year is Channel Sk1n by Jeff Noon. It’s his first book in ten years, and a very welcome return to the scene by one of my favourite authors. The tale of a reality pop star who starts picking up TV signals on her skin, it’s a sharply drawn satire on modern cultural memes, and a thing of real beauty in its own right.

Bubbling Under:

Vulture’s Picnic by Greg Palast.

Rare Earth by Paul Mason.

The Mongoliad: Book 2 by Neal Stephenson, Greg Bear at al.

The Shining Girls by Lauren Beukes (a bit of a cheat this, as it’s not released until May 2013, but this twisty tale of a time-travelling serial killer is gonna be big, trust me).

EVENT OF THE YEAR

…being something that gets my lazy bum out of the house and interacting with the real world in the fresh air. Really, there’s little question as to the winner. The Olympics was one of those moments when our quiet, pessimistic little nation went all out and proved that there was a bloody good reason why we used to have an Empire. We had a chance to prove what we could do, and bugger me if we didn’t go ahead and exceed all expectations. For me, the Paralympics were even better: an amazing atmosphere twinned with astonishing displays of sportsmanship, tenacity and sheer willpower.

Picture courtesy of Clare Wickings

Bubbling Under:

The Reading And Leeds Festival 2012.

Bristol’s See No Evil Show.

DocoBanksy at the opening night of the Portobello Film Festival.

Elbow at the 02.

 

So, those are my highlights of the year. How about yours, Readership?

 

Film Riot: 5 Directors I Want To Have Dinner With

A repost from week one of Ology's Film Riot.

The discussion was about five writers or directors with which you'd want to enjoy a dinner date. It was a conversation that I couldn't resist joining…

Some great names have come up already, but here are my five. I'm interested in directors who are characters in their own right, and would therefore make for riotous dinner guests!

1. Alejandro Jodorowsky: seer, mystic, holy fool. The writer and director of two utterly remarkable, mind-bending movies in The Holy Mountain and El Topo, and the prime mover behind one of the great unmade films of al time – his version of Dune. Thanks to Jodorowsky, Ridley Scott was introduced to both Jean Giraud and H.R. Giger. Without him, Alien would have looked like a very different film. He's still active, still exploring the outer reaches of the imagination in comics and theatre/art events. A true innovator and a genuinely fascinating artist.

2. Stanley Kubrick: as we still talk about his work today, and keep coming up with new theories as to the meanings encoded within them (my current favourite: The Shining as confession and apology for his role in the faked moon landings) wouldn't it be something to be able to pin him down and get the definitive version? You'd have to be careful, though: there was a con-man around in the eighties who used to pose as Stanley to get free meals. If you end up talking about stationary for a large chunk of the evening, you're likely to have the real deal.

3. John Carpenter: simply because he's my favourite director and I'd love to spend an evening with him. But less selfishly, this is the guy that reinvented horror in the mid-seventies, and whose minimalist electronic scores still have a major influence today. The soundtrack for Dredd, for example, is very Carpentery indeed. His films are a touchstone for inventive scares, and for a while in the mid-eighties no-one could touch him. Most of his ouvre has been remade at some point in the last 10 years, to which I can only say: watch the originals.

4. Werner Herzog: the wild man of cinema. His hate-hate relationship with Klaus Kinski meant that there was a very good chance one or the other of them would pull a loaded weapon on set. For Fitzcarraldo, he built a full-size paddle steamer, then disassembled it again to get it over a waterfall, and filmed the lot. Coppola made one film with the Herzog style of artistic monomaniacal excess – for Werner, it was just another day in the office to build a ship and pull it up the Amazon. He is the most no-compromise director out there, and he can act too. He's the villain in the big-screen adaptation of the first Jack Reacher book, and all of a sudden I'm interested in seeing it.

5. George Lucas: oh, roll your eyes all you like. Lucas redefined SF and fantasy cinema, and changed the way that films are made and marketed. Like him or not, he is the figure to talk to about modern cinema. Plus, with the Disney deal, he's not short of a bob or two. He can pay for dinner.

The chat continues on Ology. Don't forget, I'm curating a discussion on my top 5 movie villains in early January.

 

Get Ready For Film Riot!

Yes, I know it’s not Christmas yet, but I have some news about an event coming up in the New Year that I’m excited to share.

Ology, a nested set of online communities, has asked me to curate a week of their Film Riot series. It’s started this week with a discussion on the 5 writers and directors you’d most like to have dinner with.

I’m up in week four, where I’ll be leading a chat entitled The Best Of The Worst. I want to highlight my top 5 movie villains. I hope you agree with my choices. Actually, I hope you don’t. I hope you have your own ideas, and I want you to get over to Ology and browbeat me about them.

Best Of The Worst kicks off on January 7th. You can sign up by clicking on the Ology logo below, or by heading over to ology.com and joining Filmology. Hope to see you over there!

The Comics You Should Be Reading With Your New Tablet

It looks like a lot of people will be getting a tablet for Christmas, and if you're a comic fan this is good news!

I'm the proud owner of a new iPad with Retina display, and it's transforming the way I do a lot of things. With a Bluetooth keyboard it's a brilliant, portable writing solution. I game a lot more than I ever did with a Wii or Playstation.

Most importantly, I've realised what a great vector for comics delivery a colour tablet can be. I was never a fan of digital comics, finding the interfaces clunky and intrusive on a laptop. But with a tablet, you get a very close approximation of the comic-reading experience, with all the advantages of digital delivery; easy storage and portability, and no hassles with printers. OK, you don't get that new comic smell–or indeed that old comic smell. But let me make this plain. I have bought more single issue comics in the last six months than over the last six years. That has to be a good thing.

Let's have a look at the comics that are rocking my world now. Unless otherwise noted, they're available through Comixology, which is available on both iOS and Android.

 

 

 

 

 

Hawkeye: I don't read many mask books these days. To catch my attention they really have to stand out, and Hawkeye is unquestionably one of the best books of the year. Matt Fraction and David Aja have done something remarkable with the second-string Avenger and second-best known super-archer in the comics sphere. They've made Cliff Barton loveable. They've pulled off a simple trick; by focussing on his life outside the Avengers, and setting that life firmly in the scruffy bits of New York, they've both grounded and humanised him.

Clint is a doofus, who trips over trouble at every turn. He's a charmer, but he isn't the smartest or most powerful guy in the room. Without superpowers, all he has is his bow and his wits. And sometimes, they're just not enough to get him out of a tricky situation. His sidekick, the sassy Kate Bishop who took over the Hawkeye name for a while and is now training with Clint, is just as capable with a bow and a little bit cleverer. The backchat and banter between the two is priceless; it's Tracy/Bacall for the comics age.

Aja's gritty art and Fraction's snappy, propulsive scripts remind me of the sterling Miller/Mazzuchelli run on Daredevil, with more humour and less Catholic angst. The next issue will be set in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy, and that, my friends, is going to be a must-read.

Prophet: I've been a fan of Brandon Graham for the longest time. His King City is a crazed and lovely futurecity fantasy with a real sense of warmth and heart, and the coolest anti-epic ending ever.

He's always had a slightly retro sensibility, and a love for the most absurd excesses of the 80's comic scene. So his update of the Image hero book featuring far-future warrior Jonathan Prophet is a better fit than you'd might think.

It's a remarkable piece of work, truly cosmic in scale. The universe that John Prophet fights in is alien and hostile, an empire in flux where betrayal and cruelty are the default position. But there's a strange beauty here too, depicted in stunning detail by Graham and his co-creators Simon Roy, Farel Dalrymple and Giannis Milonogiannis. It's the best looking book on the shelf by a long stretch, and if your tastes stretch to bande desineé-style cosmic freakiness, Prophet should be at the top of your list.

Double Barrel: A double-header of a comic (hence the name) from Zander Cannon and Kevin Cannon (no relation). They pack a lot into each issue. Two on-going stories, assorted shorts and one-offs, and a downright indispensable guide to comics creation that's as funny as it's instructive.

For me, though, it's the way the Cannons have embraced the digital format so wholeheartedly that makes Double Barrel such a joy. It's designed from the ground up as a digital comic, and it really works. The funny and eccentric side of the story is packaged up in a beautifully clever and above all unobtrusive format. The stand out strip for me is Kevin Cannon's Crater XV, the bonkers followup to his equally bonkers Far Arden (and for me, no-one does a sound effect like Kevin Cannon) but there's plenty to love in Double Barrel at a real bargain price.

American Flagg!: The comics renaissance of the eighties was fired up by two collections: Watchmen and The Dark Knight Returns. That's common knowledge. But sadly, common knowledge seems to have forgotten about the third point of that triangle: Howard Chaykin's astonishing, modernist American Flagg! Telling the tale of ex-soap star turned cop Randall Flagg, the comic throws you straight into the deep end of a wounded and half-mad future America.

By turns hilarious, sexy and determinedly non-PC throughout, American Flagg! is probably the most innovative of the major comics that brought the concept of funnybooks for grownups into the mainstream. Chaykin's experiments with text and layout still look fresh and startling today.

The first 12 issues have been collected in a sharp new anthology at a price that should have you frenziedly stabbing the BUY button. Bohze moi!

2000AD: It's been a hell of a year for The Galaxy's Greatest Comic. The 35th anniversary and the release of the fantastic movie version of Judge Dredd would be cause enough for celebration. But the comic is on a creative high at the moment, taking real risks with the storytelling. The Cold Deck storyline saw a tale of conspiracy and revolution break out from Dredd's storyline into the comic as a whole, culminating in a climax that took over the whole of Prog 1812. An audacious move, and one that paid off. All of a sudden, everyone's talking about 2000AD again. It's been a long time since I read 2000AD on a regular basis, but I snagged a digital subscription off the back of the Dredd film, and it looks like I picked the perfect time to do it.

The iOS app is a great way to read the comic, and offers easy subscription options. Sadly, if you're on Android things are a little more limited. You'll have to download your progs from the 2000AD website, or from Rebellion's Clickwheel. Which is a bit of a pain and a shame. Sort it out, Rebellion.

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The Dandy: It would be remiss of me not to mention The Dandy in this overview. The revered old man of the newstands faced its 75th birthday with plummeting sales, despite its delightfully silly and beautifully-drawn strips and features. Last week's print edition was its last, and The Dandy has moved to an all-digital format. It's an interesting mix of strips and animation, and it pops on a tablet display. I think it's worth a look, and if any of your little ones have access to a tablet (or even if they own one–kids today, I dunno, I had to make do with an orange and a Beano annual when I were a lad) why not sign up to a subscription? It's a great way of supporting British comics, and makes sure that ace strip-men like Jamie Smart and Lew Stringer can continue to do sterling work.

Check out the dawning of a new era at The Dandy's dandy new website!

 

Those are my recommendations, but I know there are hundreds of others out there. So come on, Readership. What have I missed out?