The Blog that Gotham deserves, but not the one it needs right now

Well this fourth blog seems long overdue to some, rather unnecessary to most (probably), but I've restrained from writing one without anything to actually talk about.
Firstly, as most of you will know, the month of November has been renamed Movember as part of a male cancer awareness scheme, more specifically prostate and testicular cancer (http://uk.movember.com/about/). Now, as a young upstart with some facial fuzz to grow, I decided to take part this year (last year I took part, but didn't actually decide to, it just happened mostly due to laziness). As of the writing of this blog, the tash has been pretty tragic but it stays until December 1st. Anyway, I also had an Otley Run to prepare for, which had a comic-book/cartoon character theme going on. Seizing the opportunity to geek out whilst also wearing a suit, I decided to go as Commissioner Gordon from Batman (picture below). Easy costume: I have a suit, I have the glasses (3D glasses without lenses) so all I need is police stuff and a tash. "Perfect excuse for Movember", I foolishly thought to myself. Learning from last year's proud/disgusting entry for the November slot on the Chinstrap calender for 2012, I thought "Surely a year on, my moustache will grow more than last time, as well as some long overdue cheek action". Well, I was so wrong. I could've easily got a job as an ignorant french waiter with the pencil I had going on. Very far from the proud caterpillar that sits on Commissioner Gordon's top lip. I therefore bought a fake tash from the local fancy dress shop. I've been proudly sporting it at home since Saturday's Otley Run when my housemates aren't around. I'd have liked to have tried to convince you that what you see below (me, not Gary Oldman's depiction of the Commissioner) is my Movember effort, but lo! it is not.

What is worse is that not only for half of the night (the sober half, sadly) I had it on upside down, but once we got to the O2 Academy after having abandoned the Otley Run, they had a special Movember night, giving out free fake moustaches to everybody. I no longer stood out amongst costumed people as a man in a suit with a fake tash and lense-less 3D glasses. Oh well...

Also, as you should be able to see from the above picture (if you don't....wow) I have had my wig chopped. The sheep has been sheared, and I've got to say, it was the weirdest experience I've ever had at a barbers. Great though. Here's what happened. After having trudged around Leeds looking for a barbers still open at 4:30pm which didn't have a gay Mediterranean-looking gentleman admiring himself rather than his client in the mirror, I looked on tinternet on my phone and found one on google. I didn't google those exact specifications, but it was along those lines if I remember. Taking another 20 minutes of walking around Leeds, not realising how big it was, I found it. However, once sat down, I got conversing with the barber, as you do, but stupidly let slip the lie of me having been recommended this specific barbers. I didn't realise that this certain barber seemed to know everybody who comes in there and their grandma! (I actually wouldn't have been surprised at all if he knew my Grandma. Everybody knows my Grandma) Anyway, he started trying to squeeze out of me more info about this recommendation. Instead of making up some John Doe from a few months back, I said my anonymous friend found this barbers on tinternet and read that it was brilliant. After being squeezed more than a lemon, I managed to convince him that it might not have actually been this place, and that I'm just strange. So it worked out well, except for the fact that while he was interrogating me like a Guantanamo inmate he was cutting my hair with the ol' cut-throat razor technique. I've seen this technique before....erm, oh yeah...

But as you can see I'm alive and not a pastried good. Actually, he was bloody good at his job, and did rather a fine job I think. He also shaved me, with an electric razor (THANK GOD!).

Finally, what about this rain?! P*****g it down down here in Leeds. I'd invest in an umbrella but money's currently shorter than a midget's little finger. And Christmas is coming (yayyyyyyy!) so I'm assuming my family is expecting some form of gift (feel free to leave suggestions in the comment box, dear family. Nothing over a fiver though.)

Film Review: Skyfall

Let's get things straight here. Skyfall isn't the best Bond film ever. Personally it's a toss-up between Goldeneye, Live and Let Die, The Man With The Golden Gun and Casino Royale. However, Skyfall is definitely the best looking Bond film ever. Just gorgeous to look at. It's a Michelin Star restaurant for the eyes. A sequence in Shanghai highlights this, with black being the most predominant colour, but the neon lights of Shanghai's skyscrapers create a colour pallet similar to a night club. Reflections that cleverly nod to the final sequence in TMWTGG play with your eyes while in the climax, black comes into the forefront again as it drains the frame of most colour, except for a huge fire in the background. Without delving into spoiler territory, it's a house. A big house. You can actually see it in the trailer for the film anyway.

Skyfall is possibly the most British Bond film yet. The last two Daniel Craig encounters were directed by a New Zealander, and then a German. The iconic Bond opening credits song was sung by Americans, firstly Chris Cornell for Casino Royale and then Alicia Keys and Jack White for Quantum of Solace. Here, we have British national treasure Sam Mendes taking directorial duties and British national treasure Adele belting out another classic for the opening credits. Following the death of Desmond Llewellyn in 1999, John Cleese had a crack at replacing him as Q for 2 films, but it just didn't feel right. Llewellyn had been the iconic Quartermaster in 17 Bond films. If you're gonna recast the character, you have to start at the beginning again. Enter young Ben Whishaw, last seen (by me at least) in the excellent BBC mini-series The Hollow Crown as King Richard II. Whishaw's Q isn't so much the gadget man as the geek, proving himself to be quite the computer hacker to rival that of Javier Bardem's Silva. Much of the film is spent on the shores of Blighty, and  the best of British is shown. Porcelain bulldogs on desks in offices overlooking the Thames, the Union Flag waving over the London skyline, the Tube, the Met Police, the one-lane road up to Scotland. Ok, maybe that's not something quintessentially British, but the scene where M buys some Greggs' sausage rolls for Bond's lunch was cut.

This, the 23rd Bond film in the series, is possibly the most personal one to Bond himself. You learn an awful lot about his past, and also what his retirement plans are (he doesn't really have any which don't involve alcohol). This emotional core to the film is rather unique then, as the last few Bond films haven't quite packed the emotional punch that is often needed in an action film. And the overall premise of the film is rather unique as, I feel, it is the first film in a long time where Bond isn't in complete control of the situation. Usually you have Bond briefed about the villain, what are his likes/dislikes, what morning paper he reads, what are his weaknesses, how easy it is to push him into his own trap (lava, sharks, piranhas etc.); but this time, Bond is forever one step behind Bardem's Silva. And he deserves to be, albeit through the fault of his superiors more than his own. Silva is a deliciously Bondian villain. His scarred past, his brushes with MI6, his defining physical feature, his crazy, out of this world hideout; it's all there for Bardem to just gobble up in his path. He chews the scenery, spits it out and chews it again (he probably does with teeth like that), but never too much. He never goes full Pacino, but you can see a bit of Joker in him. An uneasiness that really does affect the audience. Silva's not fully sympathetic, but he's definitely one who you can love to hate.

The real star of the film, though, is Judy Dench's M. Returning for her 7th Bond outing, Skyfall is the film where you actually learn about her. You realise she's not just Bond's boss. She is very vulnerable in her Ivory Tower, and Dench plays this vulnerability perfectly. The husband that's very briefly mentioned in passing in Casino Royale has died, and the loneliness in M's life is plain to see. Bond is all she has left, and she doesn't do the best of jobs in keeping him.

Sam Mendes does a brilliant job as director, but a big shout-out must go to his cinematographer Roger Deakins, who has worked with Mendes on Jarhead and Revolutionary Road previously. Deakins uses the camera like a painter of modern art. Sharp contrasts between colour and blackness really make some of the scenes memorable for all the right reasons. Chris Corbould, special effects supervisor on a Bond film for the 10th time, does a fantastic job in restraining from the use of CGI, particularly for a spectacular scene in the London Underground. The soundtrack by long time Mendes collaborator, Thomas Newman, is unlike what most people would recognise as typical Newman. Watch the video below to the left to hear Newman's iconic motif for American Beauty. Subtlety is his speciality, with atmosphere and mood being his main characteristics, pulling at the heartstrings and rousing emotions. He also did the soundtracks for Finding Nemo and the Shawshank Redemption, for example. Here, however, he delivers a soundtrack which is worthy of any Bond film, using his subtlety less playfully than usual, creating atmosphere and tension, making it known that the stakes are high and things are getting desperate. It's lean, modern and bloody fantastic, using the classic Bond theme sparsely and carefully so as not to overuse it. Bombastic at times, but never deafening, it fits perfectly into the grand scheme of things.

Skyfall isn't perfect.It isn't the best Bond film ever as some are claiming. It is brilliant, even if the classic Bond girl roles, played here by Naomie Harris and Bérénice Marlohe, are slightly underwritten, but they are full of intrigue and mystery, particularly Harris' Eve. Skyfall is truly thrilling stuff and one of the most Bond-y Bond films for a long time, probably since Goldeneye. It really packs an emotional punch, and has a heart which has been lacking for some time in the longest film franchise in the world. In a year which has been oh so British, Bond has once again done Queen and Country proud.

8.5/10

Blog 3: Bruges

Bruges, in the immortal words of Ralph Fiennes, is a f*****g fairytale. He's not wrong. It's honestly one of, if not the best cities I've ever been to, and I've been to quite a few. It may have just been because of the situation, but it was magical and wonderful and a f*****g fairytale.

Here's the situation for those who don't follow football or watch the news. Just under 5000 Geordies travelled to the small city in Belgium to watch Newcastle United. The main square in Bruges was flooded in black and white by 2pm on Thursday, with a 6pm kick off leaving far too much time for drinking and shenanigans. The atmosphere around town was one of party and celebration, with shops and bars getting the best business in one day than they've ever had, and the police having a quiet and fun day with only 20 arrests in total on the Newcastle side.

Having got the ferry from Newcastle to Amsterdam, we (myself and the group) drove from Amsterdam to Bruges in 2 separate cars, and arrived in Bruges at different times thanks to the other car following what they thought to be us, only for it to be a Dutch car cleverly disguised as us. The crafty bastards. Meeting up in Bruges' main square, black and white jester hats on our heads, we had the local delicacies of stews and beer. One beer in particular proved to be more popular among us than the 1217 others that a waiter told us about, and this one was a pink in colour Cherry Beer. I hate beer. Disgusting stuff. But this one didn't have the hoppy taste that I detest, instead was nice and fruity without being sickly sweet and alcopoppy. Only later did that same waiter tell us that the Belgians call that "gay beer". Oops. Looking back, a pink beer is pretty gay.

Amsterdam, however, couldn't have been more different from Bruges in terms of atmosphere and general safety when crossing roads. Yes they both have canals, and yes they both have old, quaint buildings, but at least you could drive around Bruges and the only thing you had to worry about was parking. Amsterdam is a death trap. Don't get me wrong, it's a nice place, but when you're not worrying about getting squished by a tram, you're getting harrassed and beaten around by cyclists. I fecking hate cyclists. They don't even wear helmets, and yet they'd probably blame you if theitr side hit your swinging right foot and they were thrown from their saddle. The twits. Some of us did go to the Rijkmuseum and saw some actual Rembrandts and Vermeers, among others, which I would recommend.

In terms of the ferry and life on the sea, I was fine. Some not so fine, but we all got our sea-legs eventually. I, personally, still have them which isn't the best when you're on land, but I'm pretty sure that I'll get my land-legs back soon enough. Just to make it clear, google the expression sea-legs, because I don't want to give you the impression that I have prosthetics limbs and somehow lost my land legs and I'm forced to wear my sea legs which make me sway from side to side. I have my original legs, the ones I was born with.

Glad that's cleared up.

On a sadder note, it's very disappointing that my charity hasn't received any donations of winter clothing from you, the reader. I got a nice bag of supplies from my grandparents (the sweeter, chocolatier stuff is nearly gone already) but still no gloves or woolly hats. I'm living off Fray Bentos pies at the moment though, they're lush. I'm actually eating one right now. See --->

Anyway, that's it for this week, but please also take some time to read my film reviews of Argo, Ben Affleck's new one, and I'll be posting one of the new James Bond flick, Skyfall, shortly. So stay tuned Internet!

Film Review: Argo

When you saw the name Ben Affleck attached to a film 5 years or more ago, you'd immediately groan and think to yourself "Where has his career gone? So much potential". Pearl Harbour was a career low for Affleck. After that came the disappointing Daredevil, followed by the embarrassing Gigli and suddenly one of the potential mega-stars of the Noughties had faded out of the limelight and drifted into the shadows. In 2007, however, Affleck returned to the limelight but in a more hushed sense of anticipation with his first feature-length directorial effort, the excellent Gone Baby Gone, starring his younger brother Casey. 2010 saw Affleck gain even more plaudits for his second directorial effort, The Town, which is one of the best heist films since Heat (1995). Argo, which is directed and stars Affleck, like The Town, is a third consecutive home run.

In 1979, the American embassy in Iran is invaded by revolutionaries who capture several Americans, taking them as hostage. Six manage to escape and flee to the Canadian embassy. Affleck stars as CIA exfiltration expert Tony Mendez, who is tasked with finding a way to get these six Americans out of Iran without arousing the suspicions of the Iranians, who are more than eager to kill the hostages they've taken from the embassy. Mendez (Affleck) comes up with the rather ingenious solution of creating a fake Canadian film that is looking to shoot in Iran. The film they make up, Argo, is a sci-fi film which is pretty much a rip-off of Star Wars. With the help of some contacts in Hollywood, played brilliantly by John Goodman and Alan Arkin, Mendez proceeds with creating the ruse, and goes to Iran posing as the films executive producer going to meet with six of the more senior crew members. The Iranians get suspicious and tensions inevitably rise both within the group, who aren't convinced that the plan will work, and with the Iranians, making the second and third acts the most nerve-racking, edge of the seat stuff I've personally watched in ages.

From the opening sequence you just know that Argo is going to be a good film. As soon as the screen goes black and the end credits roll, you know you've just watched one of the best political thrillers for years. It's one of the fastest-paced films you'll see for a while, but it never loses track of the story. This is thanks to the direction of Affleck. If The Town showed that Affleck was a capable director, Argo shows that he is a brilliant director and whatever he chooses as his next project, I'll be first in line for it. Argo is tight, streamlined and just plain brilliant. All of the performances are amazing, but special note has to go to Scoot McNairy, whose role could easily have been the stereotypical 'naysayer' who jeopardises the group in someway, but McNairy's performance is admirable as he takes charge of the group and plays what could have been a very annoying character in a way that draws the attention away from Affleck's Mendez and gives a real sense of humanity and fear to McNairy's Stafford. Alan Arkin is fantastic, as he always is, as film producer Lester Siegel, giving comic relief to the proceedings with some brilliant one-liners, even giving the film a new title that only people who've seen it will appreciate. Bryan Cranston's CIA man Jack O'Donnell is hard-boiled and loyal to Mendez and brilliant to watch at times.

There is hardly a foot put wrong throughout the film. From the light-hearted moments when the six Americans are trying to pass themselves off as a film crew in a busy Tehran bazaar to the tenser moments which follow, Argo is a clever and very funny film at times, but from the first minute you're hooked. It grabs hold and never lets go for a second. What makes this film even better is that fact that it's based on a true story, and that the CIA actually did go through with this plan. It's bonkers and would seem totally far-fetched on paper, but on film Affleck pulls it off with flair and gusto, leaving the photo reel at the end of the film for the audience to wipe the sweat off their brow and let their heart rate lower. As I said before, whatever Affleck directs next, I'm there.

10/10