Victoria Sadler's Blog, page 25

Arts Review: Shunga Exhibition, British Museum

With access to pornography and sexualised imagery the subject of intense debate in British society, the British Museum's exhibition on Shunga - Japanese erotic art - couldn't be more timely.



As the subtitle to the exhibition suggests - 'Sex and Pleasure in Japanese Art' - there is much sensuality and, indeed, great humour, in the varied and beautifully restored works of art on show.



In the West, we have a robust division between art and pornography, and indeed between sex (which we don't like to talk about) and pornography (access to which is now almost impossible to control). There seems to be no acceptable place for erotica, but not so in Japan where Shunga was a hugely popular art form.



Shunga, the literal translation of which is "spring pictures," refers to the genre of erotic pictures, painted hand scrolls, printed books and sets of colour prints that were produced in Japan between 1600 and 1900.



With their focus on lovemaking, whether it is heterosexual or homosexual, in pairs or groups, there is such tenderness, humour and honesty in these works of art. Shunga is also known for its mutuality - pleasure for women as well as the men - and the shared pleasure is obvious in the pieces on show.



Highlights of the exhibition include Poem of the Pillow (above) c. 1788 by Kitagawa Utamaro, a wonderfully evocative embrace between a man and a woman, whose passion can be seen in the arch of her back and in the soft curves glimpsed from beneath her robes.



There is also though great humour in the more comic Shunga such as the oversized genitalia on both the men and women who've been caught out in naughty situations whilst having a quick one behind the screens or whilst the spouse is away. And as the male penises get larger and larger from picture to picture, so you can't help but laugh more.



In his introduction (which is available online), Tim Clark, the curator of the exhibition, says that experts are "pretty sure that everybody in Japanese society from the ruling class down to the ordinary townsperson in the street used and enjoyed Shunga. This is a situation that would have been inconceivable in Europe at the same time." Fascinating, but sadly little attention has been given to this or the context of Shunga generally in Japanese society in this exhibition.



The wide distribution of Shunga throughout Japanese society is as of much interest to the visitor as the work itself, especially given the difference with the societal view of erotica in the West.



And given that Shunga eventually became seen as seedy within Japan, it's a shame that greater prominence hasn't been set aside to look at the causes of this. I would love to have known more about what these pieces meant to Japanese society, the impact of their popularity and, likewise, what can we learn from their fall from grace.



Nevertheless, Shunga: Sex and Pleasure in Japanese Art is a wonderful and extremely timely exhibition.



To January 5, 2014



British Museum, London



Picture caption details: Kitagawa Utamaro (d. 1806), Lovers in the upstairs room of a teahouse, from Utamakura (Poem of the Pillow), c. 1788. Sheet from a colour-woodblock printed album. © The Trustees of the British Museum.

Collider: Step Into the World's Greatest Experiment at the Science Museum

In its exciting and bold new exhibition on the Large Hadron Collider, the Science Museum scores a spectacular success in making the world's most famous scientific experiment fascinating and understandable.



The Large Hadron Collider is a huge particle accelerator based at the CERN laboratory in Geneva, Switzerland. And when I say 'huge', the Collider is 27 kilometres in circumference so I don't think I'm exaggerating here. It is being used by thousands of scientists and engineers from around the world for a whole range of experiments. But undeniably its most famous achievement to date is the discovery of the Higgs boson.



We've all heard about Higgs boson but understand it? Well, few of us would like to stand up and give a lecture on it, let's just go with that. So how has the Science Museum achieved in translating such a complex subject into something the layman will not just understand but also find interesting? By bringing together a unique creative team that has devised a dynamic exhibition using a blend of immersive theatre, video and sound art.



The exhibition starts off with a 15 minute film in a theatre which replicates the same one at CERN. The film is pretty useful if, like me, you're a bit of a Marty Mcfly when it comes to advanced physics ("What the hell's a jigawatt?").



Part-lecture, part entertainment (complete with a cameo from Professor Brian Cox) the film gives a great basic understanding on what the Large Hadron Collider was set up to achieve and how it does it.



After the film, the exhibition continues with a virtual tour of CERN, the particle physics laboratory which houses the Collider and which cost €10billion to build. Almost a city in itself, CERN is supported by 20 member states from around the world, including the United Kingdom, and has 10,000 people working there.



The behind-the-scenes set-up allows you to 'meet' with scientists and engineers who explain what their role is. You can also have a look around a researcher's workstation. And there are plenty of diagrams and flipcharts dotted around to explain the technical stuff such as atoms, hadrons and protons, how protons are charged and then what comes out when they are smashed together, which is how the Higgs boson was found.



And there are some wonderful exhibit pieces such as the 15-metre magnets used in the Collider itself and a CMS calorimeter crystal which measures the energy of particles. It's also a pretty nice touch having the (empty) champagne bottle Peter Higgs opened the night before the Higgs boson discovery was announced to the world.



Personally I'd still be reluctant to stand up and give a lecture on Collider, fundamental physics and the subatomic world but after going around the exhibition, I am pretty deft at explaining how and why the particle collision in the Large Hadron Collider is so ground-breaking. And just as importantly, I want to know more about what is left to discover.



To May 6, 2014



Science Museum, London

Theatre Review: The Island, Young Vic Theatre

The Island is a wonderful piece of political theatre that moves both the heart and mind. Devised by Athol Fugard, John Kani and Winston Ntshona, the play is based on true stories collected from prisoners of Robben Island, the prison which held Nelson Mandela.



It tells the story of two cellmates, Winston (Jimmy Akingbola) and John (Daniel Poyser) who work in the quarry during the day, under the ruthless oversight of their prison governor, and spend their nights in their cold, cramped cell rehearsing for the Prison's variety show.



It must have been a daunting challenge to take the injustices of Robben Island and dramatise them in a way which doesn't make the play dry, depressing and impossible to watch. Well, the creatives for this show have succeeded in the face of those incredible odds.



The success is a result of both combining humour with the dark depression of life on Robben Island, and by the superb execution of all those involved.



Winston and John are preparing an excerpt from Antigone for the variety show. The choice of play is obviously shrewd given Antigone's unjust punishment of confronting the tyranny of King Creon. But this also serves as a great opportunity for light relief from their long, dark days. One of Winston and John will have to play the woman, Antigone, and this is the source of much comedy for them as well as us.



Winston & John are the only two characters in this play and they remain on stage throughout the 80 minute running time. There is a great chemistry between the two actors who both put in extraordinary performances as two cellmates bound together. There is jealousy and frustration between them as much as there is brotherhood and compassion. Both actors are utterly convincing and bring a real emotional heart to the production.



Mention must also go to Director Alex Brown who has brought out the best in both the limited space of The Clare theatre at the Young Vic, and from his small cast. The space is well adapted to move with the story as we go from mining quarry, to the prison cell and on to the entertainment show. And the performances are perfectly staged for having the audience on both sides of The Clare.



The Island is one of the best shows I've seen this year. Utterly convincing, thought-provoking and executed at a very high-level by all involved. With The Scottsboro Boys on in the main theatre, the Young Vic may well have two of the best shows in town under one roof.



And just as I said for The Scottsboro Boys , if I could give you all a ticket to see this show, I would. The Island is an incredible achievement which made me smile and broke my heart.



To November 30, 2013



Young Vic Theatre, London

The Trouble With Being a Whistleblower...

To become a whistleblower is a tough decision to make. And no matter how much you rationalise what you are about to do, it's impossible to be completely prepared for the repercussions that come your way.



Like Edward Snowden and Chelsea Manning I too am a whistleblower. I though do not claim to be in such dire straits as them - Edward Snowden may well spend the rest of his life on the run from the American authorities for revealing the vast NSA surveillance program. And Chelsea Manning's fate for her revelations to WikiLeaks no doubt exists as a warning to other potential whistleblowers.



But I too am suffering because I spoke out.



I am a whistleblower because I have written about what really happened on the trading floors in the investment banks in the run-up to the 'Credit Crunch'.



For a decade I worked as an Internal Auditor on the trading floors of the biggest investment banks in the world. In that time I saw it all - the amoral trading decisions, the phenomenal pressures traders were forced to work under, the woeful trading and controls infrastructure, the price rigging and the frauds.



Yet like Snowden and Manning I didn't reveal anything you couldn't have already guessed.



It's not that much of a surprise that our own governments are spying on us. And nor was it a shock that some American troops are guilty of war crimes. And really, is there anything I could truly tell you about the horrors of banking that would surprise you now?



But even though much of what I have revealed in my book would not surprise you, I am now persona non grata for speaking out, even though rather bizarrely, speaking out happened rather accidentally. Like Manning and Snowden, I was pushed to a point where I just knew that to stay silent would be wrong.



My undoing came from a hobby I had at the time. For a few years I had an intermittent but secret pastime as a burlesque dancer in some cabaret shows in London. When I won a very senior promotion - on the back of a stellar performance in an extraordinary fraud investigation - a jealous female colleague found out that I did burlesque and reported me to the heads of the Bank.



Appalled, the Bank's management accused me of bringing the Bank into public disrepute and threatened me with dismissal. Now, let's just think about this for a second. This was October 2008. Banking itself was collapsing in the credit crunch as a result of its own greed, dragging the global economy with it. Quite how me doing burlesque could put banking into worse disrepute than it already was is lost on me. But that's what happened.



For a year I had to fight the Bank to keep my job. Eventually the Bank worked out that its position against me was prejudicial and discriminatory. Burlesque is a perfectly legal pastime and was not impacting my performance at all. And let's be frank, burlesque as a pastime pales in comparison with what traders like to do in their spare time.



But the fight with the Bank had been as bitter as it had been protracted so my career was over. No Bank likes a troublemaker. The Bank offered to pay me money to leave quietly but I was furious. And given that I was the best Internal Auditor at the Bank, they had picked the wrong person to screw over. I knew where all the skeletons were buried.



So I wrote my first book, Banking on Burlesque. In it I laid bare what it was really like in investment banking, how they worked, what lengths they would go to to prevent regulators finding out what was really going on - and what it was like to be a woman at the centre of it all.



As you can imagine, the biggest publishing houses were all grappling for my book - until the issue of libel came up.



Again and again, my book passed their libel tests but that wasn't enough. The Bank had told me there would be repercussions if I ever spoke out and this shook the publishing houses to the core - the fear of getting sued.



I tried to rationalise with the publishers, made the adjustments they wanted. I even tried to laugh it off. I mean, how great for publicity would it be if I got sued? But all to no avail. The standard response? "It's such a shame you didn't make all of this up; then we could have published it." Well, what does that say about freedom of speech?



It's all self-censorship - to silence yourself for fear of the repercussions of speaking out. I was so angry that so many cowered in fear of banks. An Internal Auditor I lived the 'no fear' ethos and fought every trader I had to investigate and so couldn't believe what I was hearing.



I suppose I was left with a decision, to either walk away from my book to return quietly and pick up the shreds of my career, or publish and be damned. But like other whistleblowers before me, it just didn't feel like much of a decision at all.



You HAVE to do the right thing. And it was RIGHT that I spoke out. You can't be silenced by fear. History has shown us time and time again where that leads. So I self-published Banking on Burlesque.



For me, the repercussions were immediate. When the book was published this summer, I was asked to leave the job I was working at. I was working on a contract basis for a bank in the City and they immediately saw me as a troublemaker, though nothing in the book was about them.



I haven't been able to get another job since. It doesn't matter that I am extraordinarily brilliant at my job, one of the best. It doesn't matter that none of my writings now relate to banking - I've just finished two separate screenplays about Emmeline Pankhurst and the murdered Russian journalist Anna Poltikovskaya. I have a black mark against me now I cannot possibly erase.



Perhaps you think I should have faced up to those repercussions when I made the decision to publish. But I did. But that still doesn't make it easier when you what you fear actually comes to pass.



I never asked for this to happen to me. I would never have written Banking on Burlesque had the Bank not tried to fire me for such ridiculous reasons. And I wrote the truth, a truth we all knew anyway. And that, perversely, is what has got me in this position today - with skills for a job in a sector I am no longer allowed to work in and a mortgage I can no longer pay.



I don't know how this is going to work out for me. I hope that I will find a potential employer who can see the situation with sympathy from my point of view. But all I've really learnt so far, like Manning and Snowden, is that no matter how right you are to speak out, the establishment will always win.



You can't beat the system.



Banking on Burlesque is now available in paperback, Kindle and on iBooks.

Theatre Review: Passing By, Tristan Bates Theatre

Passing By at the Tristan Bates Theatre is a little gem of a production that tells the story of a brief affair between two gay men without any clichés or melodrama.



Set in 1970s New York, Simon (James Cartwright) and Toby (Rik Makarem) are two men who have a one-night stand after a brief meeting at a cinema. But when the men both become sick, they are forced to recuperate together in Toby's dishevelled apartment.



Written by Martin Sherman, the play is playful and romantic as we watch these two men open up to each other, their growing affection for the other forcing both men to confront their fears and insecurities. But such a well-written play has not had an easy time.



The first presentation of the play in New York in 1974 was hampered by a lack of actors willing to embrace playing gay men so naturalistically. The first London production in 1976 was more successful - produced by The Gay Sweatshop it had a certain Simon Callow playing Toby.



But as Sherman himself says "the changing times have sometimes been in conflict with the play's sense of innocence." The play was due to have its first full-scale production in New York in 1983 but it was cancelled for fear that the hepatitis that the two men contract in the play would be misconstrued in light of the Aids epidemic.



Yet though this production chose to stay true to the original setting of New York and the 1970s, by side-stepping politics the play has a timeless quality to it. It could just as easily be set in the current day and still be timely, pertinent and relevant.



Indeed part of me was secretly hoping that the setting might have been revisited for this revival but actually I didn't find the decision to keep the play in the 1970s distracting, especially as this wasn't laboured in any part of the production. This wasn't fashioned as a period piece but a play with equal relevance to today's audiences.



There isn't much space in the Tristan Bates Theatre but Director Andrew Keates and Designer Philip Lindley have fashioned in it a run-down studio apartment which makes for a great cramped setting for this couple forced together by circumstances as much as desire.



The result is that the focus remains on the dynamics of this couple who end up sharing so much more than they intended to. There are moments of great humour and genuine tenderness as we watch these two men circle each other and eventually open up emotionally in unexpected ways.



Both actors contribute with strong performances, never once resorting to stereotyping their characters. Both James Cartwright and Rik Makarem bring variety and depth to their roles. Their performances are completely convincing and empathetic.



A heartfelt portrayal of a sensitive but complicated romantic encounter.



Tristan Bates Theatre, London



To November 30, 2013

Theatre Review: The Scottsboro Boys, Young Vic Theatre

The true story of The Scottsboro Boys is a harrowing and drawn out story of injustice that spanned decades. Yet from it, this truly brilliant, electric musical has been created.



In 1931 nine black youths were arrested on a freight train in Scottsboro, USA, accused of crimes they never committed including the rape of two white women. The men were found guilty and sentenced to death. But the case became a cause célèbre for the civil rights movement who fought and fought to have the men released.



Such a sad, sorry tale would make for a fine but dry political drama. Yet in the hands of Director Susan Stroman this is a brilliant, extraordinary musical full of energy and pathos.



Much as in the style of Cabaret, whose musical numbers are in cabaret-style but with darkly political overtones, so Scottsboro Boys does similar. In a quite inspired decision, the creative team decided to use the legacy of the awful minstrel show as the vehicle for this story - and turn it on its head.



In the minstrel show white men would cover their faces in black paint and portray African Americans in ways that were offensive and racist. Here, the cast don't just play the Scottsboro Nine, but also the white women, the white prison guards and the white Sherriff.



The musical numbers are key to the success of this show. The music and lyrics by John Kander and Fred Ebb give this show its heart and soul. Some of the numbers are moving and heartfelt but most are upbeat with deeply revealing and telling lyrics.



And with Susan Stroman at the helm for Direction and Choreography, you are always guaranteed a show alive with energy and drama. And she doesn't disappoint.



Using only a dozen wooden chairs as the basis for her sets - chairs also being a mainstay of minstrel shows - she creates settings that are ever-changing. The set and its cast are always moving, always evolving.



And the choreography is superb. Whether it's the athletic dance numbers, or one of the many escape attempts from jail, every inch of the stage, of the auditorium, is used. It's such juxtaposition that this tale set in prison has so much energy to it but that is the brilliance of the production.



And there simply aren't enough superlatives to describe the cast of this show. The 13 actors, many of whom play a number of roles, are superb, phenomenal. Incredible voices, incredible dancers. Their performances are electric. Their singing, especially their harmonies, is faultless. Most people can't even sing that well standing still, let alone whilst dancing as well.



The story of The Scottsboro Boys is a desperately tragic tale of an injustice that is all too recent. In the show the prison guard shouts at the boys "You are guilty because of what you look like." Sadly you've only got to look at our society today, to incidents such as Trayvon Martin, to realise that prejudice is not dead.



This is a story that needs to be told and needs to be heard. Huge congratulations to the creative team and cast of this show for finding such a passionate and absorbing way to tell this tale. A magnificent achievement. If I could give the world a ticket to this show, I would.



Young Vic Theatre, London



To December 21, 2013

Theatre Review: Frankenstein, NT Live, National Theatre

Frankenstein, the jewel in the crown of the National Theatre's NT Live initiative, is returning to UK cinemas just in time for Halloween. So if you haven't yet seen Danny Boyle's extraordinary interpretation of Mary Shelley's gothic tale of creation and destruction then grab your opportunity.



NT Live takes the best theatrical productions and broadcasts them in cinemas, allowing a far wider audience to see these ground-breaking productions. And Frankenstein remains one of the greats.



Let me admit this - Frankenstein is my favourite book. It's a story many think they know but it's been perverted over the years by B-movie horror films and popular culture. Such is my love for this story that I was actually preparing to hate this production. I thought it'd be yet another in a long line of misrepresentations and missed opportunities. I couldn't have been more wrong. Instead, in Nick Dear's hands, the much-overlooked Creature finally finds his own voice.



Like the book, the play starts with the Creature being born. The Creature is a physical form created by Dr Frankenstein through stitching together parts from many dead bodies, and given life through Frankenstein's manipulation of science. The Creature though was solely an exercise in ego-stroking and when Dr Frankenstein sees the physical aberration crawling towards him in his laboratory, he casts the Creature out, never wanting to see it again.



But from this point on, unlike the book, the play chooses to follow the Creature rather than the Doctor.



New-born and abandoned, unable to speak and barely able to walk, the Creature is forced to fend for himself. But it's a cold, harsh world and he struggles to find any kindness, any compassion in human society. And so the Creature learns to walk and talk, but he also learns anger, hate and the manipulative power of lying.



As we watch the Creature's spirit become warped by the abuse he suffers, we are forced to realise what a cruel world we have fashioned. Does this make us culpable in the Creature's crimes, the murders he commits as he slowly but surely takes revenge on his Father?



Mary Shelley's Frankenstein has lasted because of the profound themes in her story - the morality of science, parental responsibilities, man's vanity, the removal of the divine from creation etc. Nick Dear's writing takes these all on, keeping the story's political punch alive.



And then there's Danny Boyle. He directed this before he officially became a National Treasure in 2012 but all his hallmarks are here - including signs of what would come to be realised on a far greater scale in the Olympic Park.







The energy in this show is practically palpable. The pulsating score from Underworld, the light bulbs that fill the roof of the Olivier crackle with electricity and the brutal, vivid realisation of science and industrialisation. The show has a pace that keeps you on the edge of your seat but there is real pathos also.



Frankenstein was box-office gold at the time and continues to be the biggest draw in the National's NT Live programme. Through every aspect of Frankenstein is worthy of exaltation, its continued popularity is heavily influenced by its leading men - Jonny Lee Miller and, in particular, Benedict Cumberbatch.



Now, back in 2011 when I went to see the original show at the National Theatre, I hadn't even heard of Cumberbatch. Now there's no escaping him - or his legions of admirers. I remember coming out of the theatre, seeing HUNDREDS of women surrounding the Stage Door in feverish anticipation and thinking, 'I didn't realise Jonny Lee Miller had such a fanbase.'



I know better now, of course.



As most are aware, there are two version of Frankenstein, with Cumberbatch and Lee Miller alternating the two lead roles. Both versions are being shown through NT Live. I'd love it if you could see both but, if pushed, like most, I would recommend the version with Benedict Cumberbatch playing the Creature.







We are used to seeing Cumberbatch play the smartest man in the room and there is a profoundly intellectual aspect to his portrayal of the Creature. Yet there's also great comic timing in his depiction of the more playful parts of the Creature's growing pains, and real tendresse and anxiety as the Creature battles his own internal conflict between love and revenge. And there are shadows of Olivier himself in Cumberbatch's physicality and athletic prowess around the stage.



There remains a reticence to release this show on DVD, though it would no doubt fly off the shelves. I understand this decision, willing audiences to become more involved with theatre. Nevertheless I am thankful that NT Live means that many more can see this brilliant production.



And I am grateful that the star power in this show ensures that Mary Shelley's extraordinary story and the warnings within are re-energised for another generation to appreciate.



NT Live, National Theatre



From October 31, 2013



Cinemas Nationwide

Theatre Review: Raving, Hampstead Theatre

Raving is the theatrical equivalent of Blurred Lines - using the sexual assault of a young woman as source for comedy. As a result, I left Hampstead Theatre feeling sick to my stomach.



Though the assault isn't depicted until the beginning of the second half, there was little in the first half of this show that would lead me to recommend it



Raving is a sitcom, a supposed comedy of errors, where three city-dwelling couples who tick all the cliché stereotypical boxes go on a weekend away to a farmhouse in Wales.



There's the left-wing couple - Briony (Tamzin Outhwaite) and Keith (Barnaby Kay). They're both teachers, new parents with a one-year old baby, anti-hunting, Briony's a hysterical mess because her hormones are all over the place, Keith can't do a thing right and is desperate for sex but his wife doesn't want any etc. etc.



Then there's the Tory couple - Serena (Issy Van Ranwyck) and Charles (Nicholas Rowe). Upper class, they love hunting, own guns, frightfully posh, love killing partridges out on the hills and eating them for tea etc. etc.



And of course there's the perfect couple in the middle - Ross (Robert Webb) and Rosy (Sarah Hadland). Wealthy but they vote Liberal, attractive, slim, do yoga, sympathetic to everyone's situation and always the first to calm any brewing rows. The wife even thinks she managed to diffuse a situation with their former au pair who she had to sack for making unwanted sexual advances at her husband - though you don't have to be a genius to work out that her assumptions on that might be a bit naïve.



The first hour is a sharply directed fast-paced almost farcical comedy but the material - couples in mid-life crisis, breast pumps, sexual frustration, over-protective new parents, flings with pretty Eastern European au-pairs, lost mobile phones ("It's not a phone; it's a lifeline!") - is really quite dated.



So at the interval I was thinking I was just stuck watching a play riddled with clichés from below-average sitcoms from 20 years ago. But then in the second half, the play took a very dark turn.



Tabby, the niece of the Tory couple, gate-crashes the party. We know she's trouble because she swears a lot, drinks wine straight out of the bottle and does drugs. Tabby (Bel Powley) then does a disappearing act and everyone thinks she's gone to join the rave in the next valley. In a bid to rescue her from her own sin, most of the party go off to find her.



Whilst they're out looking for her, Tabby staggers back into the house, drunk and high, finding Ross, the guy who slept with his kids' au pair, alone. Tabby goes to bed, passing out under her covers naked. And it's then that Ross peers beneath the duvet at Tabby's naked body. With the young woman unconscious, he takes out her leg and starts to lick it.



Just to clarify - this girl is unconscious, unable to give any consent, and is therefore being sexually assaulted by a predator taking advantage of her situation.



The audience laughed; my jaw hit the floor. And it's not as if the tone of the play changed at this point. Not at all. Indeed when this little secret is revealed, one of the characters adds "she wouldn't have minded." Cue much mirth and rolling in the aisles from the audience.



The inference being, 'of course she wouldn't have minded because she's easy.' After all Tabby, this 17 year-old girl, sleeps with everyone so we can just assume her consent. Sick. Just really, really sick.



It's hard really to go on with any kind of balanced feedback on this production. In truth the second half just staggers along until its climax which everyone can see coming a mile off - the couple warring at the beginning turn out ok and the perfect couple end in crisis.



But profoundly, this isn't Benny Hill. This is a post-Saville age where the issue of rape culture, victim-blaming and the issue of consent is a daily subject across social media and news outlets. Only earlier this week there was uproar when the star Cee Lo Green was let off a rape charge despite the women he had sex with being unconscious, too drugged out of her head to give her consent.



I cannot fathom what on earth made the producers conclude this was appropriate material for a comedy. I left the theatre ashamed that so many people found this subject hilarious. You'd think we were progressing as a society but then Robin Thicke's Blurred Lines is still considered song of the year and worthy of a prime-time television spot on The X Factor so what the hell do I know?



Deeply depressing.



Hampstead Theatre, London



To November 23, 2013

Saving Gary McKinnon: One Year on With Janis Sharp

October 16 2013 marked the one year anniversary of Theresa May's statement to the House of Commons confirming that the UK would not be extraditing Gary McKinnon on charges of hacking to the United States as "a decision to extradite would be incompatible with McKinnon's human rights."



One year later and the woman who led that campaign for ten years - Janis Sharp, Gary McKinnon's mother - is sat in front of me smiling a very broad smile. "It's relief, just relief."



Since that day, Janis has been working on her book, Saving Gary McKinnon. "I wanted to write the book to bring out the human story behind all the politics."



For those who are unfamiliar with the story of Gary McKinnon, well, where have you been? In 2002, Gary McKinnon was arrested for hacking into the computers of NASA and the Pentagon. At the time US officials considered this "the greatest military hack of all time" but in truth this was nothing of the sort.



Gary McKinnon was a UFO enthusiast sat at his home computer in North London. Curious, he went phishing in US Department of Defense systems for evidence of contact with aliens. What he found was a security system not worthy of the name. Passwords were either non-existent or so basic e.g. 'password' that any script could have got past their defences. You didn't need to be an expert hacker to achieve this - and Gary was no hacker.



Gary stole no files and revealed no secrets. He was no Bradley Manning or Edward Snowden. Instead he searched for months on US networks for information on UFOs. He made no lasting damage. In fact he did the US a favour by exposing how weak their security system was in the post 9/11 age.



As Janis wryly observed, "If Gary had been capable of bringing the US military to its knees from his very basic home computer and a dial-up connection, then God help the planet."



But Gary's timing was terrible. This was post-9/11 and the US was on edge. Gary had embarrassed America, exposing their profound failings. As a result, the US authorities pursued him with all the vindictiveness for which they since have become well known - if Gary was extradited, he was facing 60 years in jail. Some even wanted the death penalty for him.



And the British authorities, so keen to kowtow to their American allies, seemed only too eager to hand him over. A controversial extradition treaty was signed in 2003 but the government decided to enact this retrospectively to allow McKinnon to be covered.



The politics of Gary's case are laid bare in Janis' extraordinary account. Series of Home Secretaries conspired to get the Courts to extradite Gary on the basis of the 2003 Act despite the Act not being in place at the time of the alleged crime and despite the fact that Gary was assured of not getting a fair trial (the US Attorney General had already appeared on television declaring Gary guilty).



From the outside, it seems impossible how anyone could fathom a successful campaign against such overwhelming odds, but such is the power of a mother's love. Saving Gary McKinnon brings out the impact that this very public battle had on her family and her son, and some of their extraordinary experiences.



Janis pursued a relentlessly high profile campaign to keep her son in the UK and won some influential supporters, including Paul Dacre, Editor of the Daily Mail. The result was that her son's case never left the headlines, forcing politicians to listen to her though they so desperately wanted her to leave them alone.



There's much humour in Janis' recollections such as requests from the Home Office to stop writing to them "as the volume of mail from Gary's supporters was stopping them getting on with their work," and similarly from Nick Clegg's office (a supporter of the campaign) "to remove their email address from our website as they could not cope with the volume of emails in support of Gary."



But that aside, there were also some shady experiences. One of Gary's lawyers had evidence on his laptop relating to statements from US officials - this laptop was stolen from his car. Also, a file containing the notes of a meeting Gary's legal team had in the US Embassy disappeared from the lawyers' offices. But more worrying was when Janis found a tracker device on the underside of her car.



Worse, Gary's mental health was disintegrating rapidly as his thoughts became consumed with violent nightmares and suicide. A vulnerable man was cracking up under immense pressure.



That Gary was suicidal was known, but Janis' revelations in the book that he had become almost catatonic, and that he had been buying potassium chloride, an ingredient in lethal injections, are heart-breaking.



Yet it was a rare interview that Gary gave at this time that changed the course of events irrevocably. In a TV interview, Gary's behaviour seemed unusual. After the interview was aired, Gary's lawyers were inundated with calls from the public who thought he showed many traits of having Asperger's and advised them to get Gary assessed. They did and the diagnosis followed immediately.



That her son was diagnosed with Asperger's would be difficult for any mother but for Janis, "the diagnosis explained so much about Gary's behaviour that we had just misunderstood."



The Asperger's diagnosis made it almost impossible for British politicians to extradite Gary - the risk to his health was now very real and could not be argued away. Without that diagnosis, Janis was blunt on the alternative. "Gary wouldn't have made it."



Janis Sharp's book is a wonderful insight into the story behind the headlines - and it was very brave of her to be so open about the impact on her and her family. But it is very hard to read Saving Gary McKinnon and feel any sense of pride at the British justice system. That Janis had to fight so hard for so long to save her son is one of the more shameful episodes in recent British politics.



But Gary McKinnon's experience shows just what is at stake if we are unable to stand against overwhelming US pressure. Janis writes "Without leaders who have the guts to make their own decisions, democracy could be all but lost."



That it took the breakdown of a vulnerable man in the face of such a violently disproportionate response to bring the government to its senses is a shame that should never happen again. Janis agrees. "To change the extradition treaty, to prevent this ever happening again to any other British person, would give Gary comfort that his suffering had not been in vain."



Saving Gary McKinnon: A Mother's Story available now (£18.99, Biteback Publishing)

Film Review: The Fifth Estate

The Fifth Estate should have been an exciting, dynamic dramatisation of one of the most extraordinary series of events of our time. Instead it is a rather disappointing, at times boring, film which just makes you sad for what could have been.



The story told is of the breakthrough of the whistleblowing website WikiLeaks from scourge of big business to the most feared media organisation in the world, courtesy of the release of the Afghan and Iraq war logs as well as the cables from US Ambassadors, all received courtesy of Private Bradley (now Chelsea) Manning.



We get to know Julian Assange (Benedict Cumberbatch), the founder of WikiLeaks, through Daniel Berg (Daniel Brühl) an IT hotshot who meets Assange at a human rights convention. Julian and Daniel latch onto each other, bonding through their shared interests in hacking and the pursuit of justice.



But in spite of Daniel holding Assange almost in awe, no real bro-mance develops between them. Their friendship - its rise and its fall - is the heart of this film, but it's not a particularly strong heartbeat. So when it all inevitably goes sour, as Assange's power lust and paranoid insecurity sours their relationship, it's not really clear that much has been lost.



So is the film a character assassination of Julian Assange, as the man himself says? Well if Assange thinks this is criticism, then I'm guessing he mistakes sycophancy for balanced feedback - which could actually explain a lot about the man.



No, this is not a character assassination at all. Rather the film goes out of its way to explain all of Assange's many, many flaws. However the world is full of people with troubled upbringings but they don't all turn into megalomaniacs. There comes a point when you have to call it as you see it and when it comes to Assange, the film pulls its punches a little too much.



As The Social Network proved, a film this draws comparison with because of its subject matter, your anti-hero can still be portrayed as a complete bastard yet it is still possible for the audience to retain sympathy for him.



The portrayal of Assange however is helped by a stellar performance from the internet's favourite actor. In an extraordinary turn, Cumberbatch has captured all of Assange's affectations and ticks, as well as nailing that unique Assange drawl. He also skilfully brings great depth, soul and even an inner sadness underneath Assange's brash exterior. However Benedict Cumberbatch cannot cover all the flaws in this film, especially as he's not given any help from a very clunky script.



There is way too much exposition in this film. Too much of the first half-hour is spent telling (not showing) how Assange was raised in a cult, how he created WikiLeaks as he toured the world ("I shredded my power cord in Mombasa," "I was a bit busy in Nairobi") and how he has ensured the secrecy of all those who contact WikiLeaks by uploading tons of false data to mask the true data, making leaks untraceable. It's a lot of information to take in, not all of it necessary, and most of quite dull.



The script sadly doesn't improve much through the rest of the film. Yes, some dialogue is dire - "When you take on global corruption, you needed a few superpowers", "This is the biggest leak in history", "This is a diplomatic nightmare" - but more distracting are the sub-plots which rob the film of time away from its core strength - Cumberbatch's Assange - and lower the stakes of the whole story.



Too much time is taken with Daniel and his new girlfriend, their relationship jeopardised by Daniel's increasing obsession with WikiLeaks, and Assange in particular. It simply doesn't work in raising the stakes as frankly, a budding love affair doesn't exactly hold water against the fight for global justice.



Similarly the introduction of a sub-plot at the state department halfway through the film adds nothing. Laura Linney and Stanley Tucci play US government officials warning their seniors of the emergence of WikiLeaks and, eventually, dealing with the fallout.



This sub-plot is spurious, with little bearing on the main plot and with stakes far too low to be worthy of inclusion. The conclusion of this little story is that one of them loses their job. That's it. That's the worst that happens. Of all the fallout that the Afghan War Logs caused, that the filmmakers chose to get the audience to emotionally invest in one mid-ranking State Department official getting fired is bizarre.



Just think of what could have taken its place. Of course the obvious answer to that is Private Manning, who is barely mentioned in the film. By weaving Manning more into the story, especially as this was a secret Assange kept from Daniel, would have added so much to the film.



Manning could have been portrayed almost as a competing "love rival" to Daniel for Assange's attention, and because what happened to Manning was the direct result of Assange's egotistical and narrow-minded decision not to redact the war logs on his website, a decision which causes the final split between Assange and Daniel.



By introducing Manning the film-makers would have not only improved their own film but stolen a march on the surely inevitable Manning film that we can all see coming. But they didn't. As a result, this film could and should have been so much better. Very much a missed opportunity.