tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-27626964946028237832023-11-16T10:13:11.166-08:00Teapots and FlicknivesMat Barnett's blog about making stuff happen, mostly good.matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-61632168317544395512013-07-09T13:53:00.003-07:002013-07-09T13:53:28.483-07:00The Euro Bridges and Other Imaginary Architecture<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">“Everything you can imagine is real.”<span style="font-size: small;"> </span>- Pablo Picasso</span></span></i><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>Robert Kalina’s bridges are amongst the most well known
landmarks in Europe. The only problem is that they don’t actually exist. </b> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">When the European Union introduced its common currency in
2002, Euro banknotes were introduced in seven denominations. One side of the
notes displays images of windows or gates drawn from Europe's cultural history
from the Classical to the modern, representing Europe's openness and
cooperation.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">With respect to individual national sensitivities of the
Euro nations, Austrian artist Kalina designed seven fictional bridges to
illustrate the reverse of the notes.
This use of imaginary architecture artfully avoided the difficulty of
allocating any specific nationality to banknotes that would be shared across
the union of 23 countries.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Now, a decade later</span>, Dutch designer <a href="http://www.robinstam.nl/" target="_blank">Robin Stam</a> is building
all seven bridges for real. They will
span the canal that borders a new estate in Spijkenisse, <span style="font-size: small;">a suburb</span> of
Rotterdam. The first six bridges have
been completed, beginning with a red Romanesque bridge from the €10 note and an
orange bridge in the Renaissance style from the €50 note. These were followed by the €20 Gothic, €100
Baroque and Rococo, €200 iron and glass and €500 modern bridges, each tinted in
the distinctive colours of their respective banknote designs. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJgov0qU56r8SI_PCUPBivcL62brr-YYz4Aa_QVX3r8GrNneNynoLS1JIl0iGFdvcMlrXQ4iX0u82md3ldnk80hOXdk2wLEdZb89_kNB7Xrp6gEwkbLUdFNDjrxlis80EYv4GCNsKCQwk/s1600/robin-stam-the-bridges-of-europe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJgov0qU56r8SI_PCUPBivcL62brr-YYz4Aa_QVX3r8GrNneNynoLS1JIl0iGFdvcMlrXQ4iX0u82md3ldnk80hOXdk2wLEdZb89_kNB7Xrp6gEwkbLUdFNDjrxlis80EYv4GCNsKCQwk/s400/robin-stam-the-bridges-of-europe.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
<i>Robin Stam's Bridges of Europe</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">For Stam, the proposal began as something of a playful joke
until the enthusiastic Local Authorities in Rotterdam encouraged him to realise
the project. This whimsical
demonstration of the direct influence of art on life, however, is not a
particularly new idea.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Leonardo da Vinci may not have invented the helicopter but
he did draw the first picture of one.
Unrestrained by humdrum practicalities, artists and writers have long dreamed up
countless theoretical ideas, situations and inventions. It stands to reason that eventually many of
them will become a reality.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It is often observed how writers of Science Fiction have
informed much of our science fact. Carl
Sagan, the noted scientist and writer of Science Fiction, reflected eloquently on
this relationship in <i>Pale Blue Dot</i>, a non-fiction book that explores the place
of humanity in the universe:</span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">"As far as I know, the first suggestion in the
scientific literature about terraforming the planets was made in a 1961 article
I wrote about Venus. The idea was soon taken up by a number of science fiction
authors in the continuing dance between science and science fiction - in which
the science stimulates the fiction and the fiction stimulates a new generation
of scientists, a process benefiting both genres."</span></span></i></div>
</blockquote>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Conceptual pioneers from Da Vinci to Sagan not only inspired
technological advances but also the language and look of the future.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUiFP2Y2Kk_fT5jqaCuV0lRBkgNFPdrhaJD3o8RExuAsF66AKmOUmMZNZHigQ5UGptbeuJOEBcxViPyAjUNJ85ydEctTdyQDBxq8ItSkkAaQTgTrARDFOYf7yiThapWvriX0FkHqiOJU0/s1600/shimizu_tyrell_pyramid1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="115" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUiFP2Y2Kk_fT5jqaCuV0lRBkgNFPdrhaJD3o8RExuAsF66AKmOUmMZNZHigQ5UGptbeuJOEBcxViPyAjUNJ85ydEctTdyQDBxq8ItSkkAaQTgTrARDFOYf7yiThapWvriX0FkHqiOJU0/s400/shimizu_tyrell_pyramid1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
The proposed Shimizu Mega-City Pyramid and its fictional inspiration, the Tyrell Building<br />
from Blade Runner (1982). The Mega-City Pyramid is currently awaiting the sufficient technological<br />
advances to allow its construction.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In a similar but vastly more ambitious example of a
fictional architecture made real, the <a href="http://www.moonworkshome.com/blog/shimizu-mega-city-pyramid-science-fiction-or-future-reality/" target="_blank">Shimizu Mega-City Pyramid</a> is a proposed
project for the construction of a massive pyramid over Tokyo Bay in Japan. If
completed, the structure would be 14 times higher than the Great Pyramid at
Giza and would be the largest man-made structure in history. The design is directly inspired by the iconic
headquarters of the Tyrell Corporation as featured in the 1982 science fiction
film Blade Runner. That such a real life
act of unrestrained hubris could be inspired by such a fictional depiction of
unrestrained hubris might even be enough to make some more paranoid purveyors
of fictional dystopia just a little more careful with sharing their nightmare
fuel in future.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Science Fiction, of course, is often intended to be
prophetic by design, yet the influence of art on our real life extends much
further than mere design. Countless
academics have explored the complex relationship between art, perception,
imagination and reality. The
ideologically driven architecture of the Bauhaus school pretty much invented
the modern cities of the late 20th Century whilst Leibniz's theory of Possible Worlds posits
that if we are capable of imagining something then it must exist – at least in
a parallel universe.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/ZSBL0H5a6e0?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I find the most subtly compelling of these theories to be
the philosophical position of <i>Anti-mimesis</i>, which holds that art actually has
the power to dictate the way we see and understand our world.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Anti-mimesis</i> holds that art does not imitate life but rather
sets the aesthetic principles by which people perceive life. What we observe in
life and nature is not what is truly there but is instead that which artists
have taught people to find there through art.
A famous proponent of this theory was Oscar Wilde, who noted that
although there had been fog in London for centuries, one only notices the
beauty and wonder of the atmospheric phenomenon because "<i>poets and
painters have taught the loveliness of such effects...they did not exist till
Art had invented them</i>."</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">All of which brings us back to Stam’s bridges.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimu9yb7vAbBFfpxXQAmXA-kk9AgYQWqT3SbyfdDGJLKb8H7ku-77kjTiMQhTA1k38mV491hnxJu5wxUdaQx9jSJkSzj7OaGe3lfzV5JFx6tpAvJIYp-16ybG2b37615hiGeOTlUM_PyzI/s1600/200EuroBridge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="117" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimu9yb7vAbBFfpxXQAmXA-kk9AgYQWqT3SbyfdDGJLKb8H7ku-77kjTiMQhTA1k38mV491hnxJu5wxUdaQx9jSJkSzj7OaGe3lfzV5JFx6tpAvJIYp-16ybG2b37615hiGeOTlUM_PyzI/s400/200EuroBridge.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
Robin Stam's 200 Euro Bridge, </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">To avoid any unpleasant surprises, Stam asked the Dutch
Central Bank and the European Central Bank in Frankfurt whether they had any
objections to the project but they gave him their full approval, unconcerned
that these universal European symbols would soon be Dutch.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Nevertheless, there have been some dissenting voices who
have suggested that the construction of the bridges in Holland is contrary to
the original intention of European solidarity.
I would argue quite the opposite: that Stam’s project actually adds
another, more enriching layer of universal meaning to these symbols. To me, these fictional vistas that have been
conjured into existence may now serve to celebrate the power of our dreams and
ideas, remind us that the function and form of the world is not preordained and
serve as a reassurance and modest inspiration for all those who long to see our
world change shape and move forward again toward something new and better.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Perhaps I’ve given too much credit to the <a href="http://teapotsandflicknives.blogspot.co.uk/2011/11/strange-currency-painting-on-coins.html" target="_blank">symbology of money</a><span style="font-size: small;"> </span>but to extrapolate a quote from the
great Saul Williams: words, ideas and dreams matter because words, ideas and
dreams <i>are</i> matter. Or, as Pablo Picasso
put it more succinctly, <i>“everything you can imagine is real.”</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Surely <i>that’s</i> a better thing to celebrate than the musky
nationalism of old dead white men and the baleful antipathy of weary monarchs?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-7546987058536995732013-03-04T15:45:00.002-08:002013-03-05T01:24:09.355-08:00Coming Home to Comics at the London Super Comic Convention 2013<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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</style><b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">M</span>y attendance at the inaugural <a href="http://www.londonsupercomicconvention.com/" target="_blank">London Super Comic Convention</a> last year was primaril<span style="font-size: small;">y </span>inspired by <i>curiosity</i>. I had never been to a comic convention before and the LSCC had been advertised as the first American style event to hit these shores. <span style="font-size: small;">A </span>rare transat<span style="font-size: small;">lantic</span> appearance of the legendary Stan Lee as headline special guest and the fact that the Excel conference centre is only <span style="font-size: small;">fifteen </span>minutes awa<span style="font-size: small;">y from where I live didn't hurt either</span>.</span></span></b><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho0R_b3crSV4isr-ji_u0qldMhhBzKfbh6x4BuDBjL3kURmIEB5wkxAzEHmCTp-qCED50s1r7lwshInaF1Qvb56J5yIQLHfV9kc6tA3pUCeyJux8R87pMMVAIJykWSl1PtM188t9nP-6A/s1600/FatStacksofComics.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho0R_b3crSV4isr-ji_u0qldMhhBzKfbh6x4BuDBjL3kURmIEB5wkxAzEHmCTp-qCED50s1r7lwshInaF1Qvb56J5yIQLHfV9kc6tA3pUCeyJux8R87pMMVAIJykWSl1PtM188t9nP-6A/s400/FatStacksofComics.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">With the appropriately named Jack Kirby <span style="font-size: xx-small;">as we </span>celebrate </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">pulling off another successful Con over fat stacks of comics.</span></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">At that time, comics were very much a thing of my past. Although rural North Yorkshire in the late eighties was not the best place to follow the latest American imports I had somehow managed to become a casual comics fan following the discovery of an amazing little comic book store in my grandparents town. It seemed wildly exotic to me at that pre-teen time. During each family visit I stocked up on all the precious issues I could afford and built up a fractured collection featuring <i>Swamp Thing</i>, <i>Guardians of the Galaxy</i> and McFarlane-era <i>Spiderman</i>. Those few comics, with barely a handful of complete stories between them, offered a colourful and intoxicating escapism. I read and reread these books repeatedly, totally captivated by the unrestrained imagination of the storytelling. </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In the absence of a reliable supplier and <span style="font-size: small;">in the midst of the many other <span style="font-size: small;">real world distractions of gro</span>wing up</span></span>, my collecting faded away but my love of the medium remained; smoulder<span style="font-size: small;">ing in</span> <span style="font-size: small;">the </span>warm glow of nostalgia. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I wou<span style="font-size: small;">ld</span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">reacquaint</span> myse<span style="font-size: small;">lf with</span></span> comics again in college where the demands of a more mature readership were satisfied by three future indie classics: Jeff Smith’s <i>Bone</i>, Garth Ennis’ <i>Preacher</i> and Terry Moore’s <i>Strangers in Paradise</i>. These books - alongside the Alan Moore triumvirate of <i>V for Vendetta</i>, <i>From Hell</i> and <i>Watchmen</i> - made me realise that I could now appreciate <span style="font-size: small;">a</span> vicarious return to childhood thrills as a legitimate art form<span style="font-size: small;">!</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">As life kept moving on<span style="font-size: small;"> </span>I once again drifted away from comics for an extended period, pretty much until this time last year and the very first London Super Comic Convention. Now, just twelve months later, I have started buying regular comics again and I have found myself attending this second London Super Comic Con as a fully-fledged fan reborn.<span style="font-size: small;"> </span>I am not sure why this renewed enthusiasm for comic books has occurred. Perhaps I am drawn back to the reassuring constancy of these little worlds at times my real life is unsettled. As I move house and adjust to my thirtysomething drift, it feels good to know that the anthropomorphic and metahuman menageries of DC and Marvel are still out there fighting the good fight, in a <span style="font-size: small;">world where </span>good always triumphs over evil and no one ever really dies. Philosophical reflection aside, the LSCC encapsulates everything ridiculous and wonderful I love about comics, all under one conference centre roof.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This year I was once again weakly <span style="font-size: small;">channeling</span> a geekish version of Dr Gonzo to my<span style="font-size: small;"> friend</span> <a href="https://twitter.com/jackkirby" target="_blank">Jack Kirby’s</a> Raoul Duke<span style="font-size: small;"> </span>as he covered the event in a press capacity for the <a href="http://www.blogomatic3000.com/2013/02/28/blogomatic3000-goes-to-the-london-super-comics-convention/" target="_blank"><i>Blogomatic 3000</i> website</a>. Although our invocation of <i>Fear and Loathing</i> extended to little more than some early afternoon contraband drinking, it did give us an excuse to launch into conversation with guests and creators alike – not that anyone in this most sociable of crowds needed an excuse. In fact, for future journalistic reference, drunken waving of plastic beer cups in the midst of a convention celebrating a largely paper based artform probably makes people <i>more</i> wary of you.</span></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtVhxV3VNhtdzewmZm5tTlORu6PZiHfOAw-1PJEp92aU-ah4_56uMaCQEFRU_wiYi5p7AVE-T3pb7plE6cqyznDNYhH36dgwfT8D2pvrPXZ5oofB8GMQLxlfl2lqHMAkh2ZK6rycG0qw8/s1600/Ami&Aman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtVhxV3VNhtdzewmZm5tTlORu6PZiHfOAw-1PJEp92aU-ah4_56uMaCQEFRU_wiYi5p7AVE-T3pb7plE6cqyznDNYhH36dgwfT8D2pvrPXZ5oofB8GMQLxlfl2lqHMAkh2ZK6rycG0qw8/s400/Ami&Aman.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The extended <span style="font-size: xx-small;">Mat-family for the weekend<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span>al<span style="font-size: xx-small;">so included my <span style="font-size: xx-small;">friends <a href="https://twitter.com/strumentals" target="_blank">Ami</a> & <a href="https://twitter.com/AmanFida" target="_blank">Aman</a><span style="font-size: xx-small;">.</span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">T</span>hey are far more s<span style="font-size: xx-small;">oftcover hardcore than me.</span> </span></span></span></span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Nevertheless, many notable comics creators in the sizeable <i>artists alley</i> gave us a moment of their time for a brief exchange, an autograph, a print or a sketch.<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Comic legend </span><a href="https://twitter.com/nealadamsdotcom" target="_blank">Neil Adams</a> charmed us with his self-assured confidence: a square jawed real life hero looking as if he had <i>literally</i> stepped from one of his own Silver Age panels. <a href="https://twitter.com/perezartist" target="_blank">George Perez</a> pimped me a print of a characteristically voluptuous superheroine ensemble. Cult indie creator <a href="https://twitter.com/HackinTimSeeley" target="_blank">Tim Seeley</a> was a more rock and roll presence but still thoroughly aimiable. This was a relief as <i>Revival</i> – a self-styled rural noir somewhat in the vein of a more hipster Stephen King mystery story – is one of my favourite current comic series.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Perhaps the most popular special guest was serving Spiderman scribe <a href="https://twitter.com/DanSlott" target="_blank">Dan Slott</a>, whose marathon signing sessions seemed to last from dawn to dusk on both days. His current celebrity status is likely due to the fact that his tenure with the webslinger has seen Peter Parker killed off and a vengeful Doctor Octopus take over the body – and the mantle – of the <i>Superior Spiderman</i>. This new status quo is unlikely to last but it has started the new series with a bang and it seemed that everybody and their Aunt May wanted a copy of the exclusive LSCC Varient cover Issue 1 of <i>Superior</i>, signed by Slott and artist Adi Granov.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRhnJOuQuxTphLO9kJlO96DuMFiT-76k1N_ObMaahkZ7y1pEliOwaTjA-QWQ44cAEheN8Gj1PHlqIyMg1G3OYc9F8mny9QoicDTiH6DoMsIUcoa1H6aFcTYnr8225jJHE4sGsBLUczqto/s1600/LSCCmontage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRhnJOuQuxTphLO9kJlO96DuMFiT-76k1N_ObMaahkZ7y1pEliOwaTjA-QWQ44cAEheN8Gj1PHlqIyMg1G3OYc9F8mny9QoicDTiH6DoMsIUcoa1H6aFcTYnr8225jJHE4sGsBLUczqto/s400/LSCCmontage.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The LSCC (Clockwise from left): Rogue cosplay on the Underground,Neal Adams, Batman with beer,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The Cat, The Bat, The Mat and...er...Bane plus <span class="st">Brian <i>"Pants</i>" Christman from Comic Geek Speak</span></span></span> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Alongside these established names were also a multitude of Independent Creators. Here you could find Christian, Blaxploitation, Gay or Heavy Metal themed comics<span style="font-size: small;"> - amongst many others -</span> sitting side by side<span style="font-size: small;">,</span> with their creators all mostly getting along famously<span style="font-size: small;">. There are few other places where such a diverse</span> spectrum of politics and personalities <span style="font-size: small;">c<span style="font-size: small;">an <span style="font-size: small;">be</span></span></span> brought together by a common interest in telling stories through the juxtaposition of sequential pictures and words. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">New discoveries this year included the fantastic fanservice of <a href="http://yazmeanie.com/" target="_blank">Yasmin Liang</a><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://yazmeanie.com/" target="_blank">'s gorgeous </a><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://yazmeanie.com/" target="_blank">illustrative prints</a> and </span></span>Timothy Winchester's very funny <a href="http://www.timothywinchester.com/" target="_blank"><i>People I Know</i></a> comic. Winchester was also notable for an effective but counter-intuitive sales technique whereby he refused to sell me anything until I had gone away and come back later after a cooling off period. I recall this was something to do with the fact I don’t like <i>Game of Thrones</i> but, whatever the reason, it worked and I <span style="font-size: small;">returned</span> at the end of the day determined to buy his book regardless. His webcomic also features a dinosaur whose best friend is a talking slice of toast, wizards and a hybrid unicorn-cat. If that isn’t a recommendation, then I don’t know what is.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In addition to new discoveries, the LSCC is also a perfect opportunity to catch up on just about any other titles you may have missed. The trading floor was huge and covered just about every taste and genre of comic you could think of. With this once-a-year <span style="font-size: small;">shopportunity in mind, <span style="font-size: small;">it was ironic<span style="font-size: small;"> that</span></span></span> we seemed to spend most of our crate-digging time in the longboxes of our friendly neighbourhood dealer <a href="http://www.orbitalcomics.com/" target="_blank">Orbital Comics</a>. They may not have had the biggest stand but they are the nice folks and it was good to support <span style="font-size: small;">our</span> local shop.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We spent some time on a panel with Brian "Pants<span style="font-size: small;">" Christman</span> and </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="st">Bryan <span style="font-size: small;">"Bryan<span style="font-size: small;">" </span></span>Deemer </span> from the <a href="http://www.comicgeekspeak.com/" target="_blank"><i>Comic Geek Speak</i></a> podcast<span style="font-size: small;"> (and</span> co-founders of the whole event). Specifically, it was a <i>broken wall panel</i> that we were helping to hold in place until technical assistance arrived, but it did g<span style="font-size: small;">ive </span>us time to peek behind the convention curtain at hard work<span style="font-size: small;"> and </span>the sheer force of will required by the <span style="font-size: small;">small team<span style="font-size: small;"> of organisers </span></span>to <span style="font-size: small;">hold everything together</span>.<span style="font-size: small;"> Entirely coincidentally, t</span>his <i>also</i><span style="font-size: small;"> </span>allowed us to peek behind the curtain into the <span style="font-size: small;">C</span>osplay competition.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU7KKv_bjz_3zXWOucNHSKG8c9kRiHBK5T8xmUDtuFzyuCUgNP1K-d6X8Hlbafyy4f0QmPtgXUQh1WFj5yoPhGwZKcpetW8feEWHn9mnO8yuDm7XH4IVb6lP0GQuo4hCCix_JtwRplGPs/s1600/wolverine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU7KKv_bjz_3zXWOucNHSKG8c9kRiHBK5T8xmUDtuFzyuCUgNP1K-d6X8Hlbafyy4f0QmPtgXUQh1WFj5yoPhGwZKcpetW8feEWHn9mnO8yuDm7XH4IVb6lP0GQuo4hCCix_JtwRplGPs/s400/wolverine.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">In my mind - foam claws aside - this man is as close to an actual real life </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Wolverine as you'll meet </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There appeared to be a renewed enthusiasm for <span style="font-size: small;">C</span>osplay this year. The many colourful homespun highlights, included a gingerbread Punisher, a gang of very well made Megacity Judges and a rather intimidating Red Sonja. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The Bat family were probably the most abundant characters, although with just a single lonely Bane among them. As a result of his isolation, I guess his unwillingness to indulge in any trademark whimsical banter was probably understandable. Most importantly, our favourite hard drinking, <span style="font-size: small;">hard l<span style="font-size: small;">i<span style="font-size: small;">ving </span></span></span>Wolverine had also returned. He <span style="font-size: small;">had intervened last year when innocent cosplayers were <span style="font-size: small;">being mocked by some drunken city <span style="font-size: small;">boys and proved himself as close to a real hero as you'l<span style="font-size: small;">l meet.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The Cosplayers capture that sense of the Convention as being more than simply artists, traders and guests. Everyone plays a part in making that sene of community and this is a pretty great and unique thing. In seeing families in attendance, with parents and children sharing equal excitement at the colourful happenings, I was again reassured at seeing characters I’ve loved in the past are still capturing the imagination of new generations.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I think this again evo<span style="font-size: small;">kes that warm fuzzy feeling of <span style="font-size: small;">stability and continu<span style="font-size: small;">ity<span style="font-size: small;"> that I fi<span style="font-size: small;">nd so seductive in</span> the medium. </span></span></span></span></span>Maybe this is what Frazer Irving alluded to when, in a panel “Celebrating 50 Years of Marvel's Greatest Characters”, he revealed that his favourite characters were the <i>X Men</i> as they were representative of <i>“perhaps the longest mythic storytelling in human history”</i>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Whilst the glow of escapism is still strong and there is still much artful storytelling to discover, it is that joy of being part of a community of enthusiasts that is most attractive. In difficult and unfriendly times to be around people who are brought together by an unashamed love of stories is a wonderful thing and I am proud to feel I am part of that community. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I will, ho<span style="font-size: small;">wever, be expecting a<span style="font-size: small;"> forceful</span> intervention i<span style="font-size: small;">f</span></span> I show even the slightest hint that my renewed enthusiasm begins to extend to <span style="font-size: small;">C</span>osplaying.</span></span></div>
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matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-19929781636704371322012-12-24T17:01:00.002-08:002012-12-24T17:25:53.674-08:00Christmas in the Arts<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>The true spirit of the Christmas season is surprisingly difficult to
summarise. <span style="font-size: small;">Initially</span> a Christian
festival, the midwinter holiday across the Western world now encompasses a much
broader church of pagan ritual and secular trimmings. Equally, the portrayal of Christmas in the <span style="font-size: small;">A</span>rts is as challenging to package as a giftwrapped bicycle.</b></span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Happy Warholidays!</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Christmas was pretty straightforward for artists working
during the theocratic times of the Classicists. Classical art was dominated by the Christian
church and was without pretence in its non-nonsen<span style="font-size: small;">se </span>approach to Christmas as purely the celebration
of the Nativity story and the birth of the Christ child. Enduring examples include Giorgione’s
<i>Nativity</i> (1507) from the Renaissance and Gerard van Honthorst’s <i>Adoration of
the Shepherds</i> (1622<span style="font-size: small;">)<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span>from the Baroque tradition – but the supporting cast of infant <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">M</span>essiah<span style="font-size: small;">, </span></span>Virgins,
Angels, Kings, shepherds and assorted farm animals can be found in literally thousands
of works.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFJ51S6OCDU3RzphpZB_d7V-eA9948-xgptqUGazKhbx-auA0ICXHIuD3VimvHW094M_fMo7XH5Ij_gZhBObEC6fpi0V6Eopo6iODmzNL9UT0B70s3z4FrvdcL0i-9xoy4G1hvo8RYvEw/s1600/Christmas_Gerard_van_Honthorst_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFJ51S6OCDU3RzphpZB_d7V-eA9948-xgptqUGazKhbx-auA0ICXHIuD3VimvHW094M_fMo7XH5Ij_gZhBObEC6fpi0V6Eopo6iODmzNL9UT0B70s3z4FrvdcL0i-9xoy4G1hvo8RYvEw/s400/Christmas_Gerard_van_Honthorst_001.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Gerard van Honthorst<span style="font-size: xx-small;">, </span><i>Adoration of the Shepherds<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> (16<span style="font-size: xx-small;">22)</span></span></i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">This unwavering religious embodiment of the festival would
continue until artists began to creep out from under the waning yoke of the
patronage of the church. It is not until the 1800’s that we first see the gaze of
the artist turned from the Romantic and the Divine to the rather more Humanistic.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Christmas embodied by this next wave of artists focused not on the
Nazarene or the Magi but instead on the more contemporary recording of families
coming together, celebrating hearth and home.
There are innumerable examples of this work across the European and North
American art movements of the late 19th and early 20th Century.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Viggo Johansen’s <i>A Happy Christmas</i> (1891), Carl Larsson’s
<i>Christmas Eve</i> (1904) and Albert Chevallier Tayler’s <i>The Christmas Tree </i>(1911)
reflect this shift in festive themes.
These depictions of a family Christmas, from the Impressionists to the
Arts and Crafts <span style="font-size: small;">M</span>ovement, all share a common whimsical theme to the point that
they become almost indistinguishable.</span></span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcTrhZpFS318sSKZK137n-n3nnJQLBS2GOdTWVxjwK2Mk-Aom5aFXkKt1gPCGpU484gek3ffSGPRfxWN_bisRksVYs02r_A2QrWAknwZGcHrldlk_HmBHcno6hBLp4Nu0Rlc2r_GAmA8A/s1600/christmas+tree+blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcTrhZpFS318sSKZK137n-n3nnJQLBS2GOdTWVxjwK2Mk-Aom5aFXkKt1gPCGpU484gek3ffSGPRfxWN_bisRksVYs02r_A2QrWAknwZGcHrldlk_HmBHcno6hBLp4Nu0Rlc2r_GAmA8A/s400/christmas+tree+blog.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Albert Chevallier Tayler, <i>The Christmas Tree </i>(1911)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">For many it is the Victorian Christmas that conjures a
romantic ideal of the season and it is around these vignettes that the
contemporary image of Christmas begins to solidify, like goosefat around a tray
of roasted potatoes and frost on the rosy cheeks of the cockney street
urchin.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Even now, the perfect image of the Dickensian Christmas
holds much inexplicable allure – perhaps in its evocation of simpler times when
extreme poverty, inequality and austerity seemed to do little to dampen the
determined celebration of the season.</span></span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF8cnicRnnNWq-ka9jwzIHyqTxIitzYCa1Lj_oTNL5D7R9QQUtkS3Ve382E3cR3NkjDp0FtR-6JHvuZ1q4_eBDuUT9Ot9wfhj75_AtH280G59MvJO2EBpymc6ObVd7c9oDD9x0oe2qjlw/s1600/rockwellchristmas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF8cnicRnnNWq-ka9jwzIHyqTxIitzYCa1Lj_oTNL5D7R9QQUtkS3Ve382E3cR3NkjDp0FtR-6JHvuZ1q4_eBDuUT9Ot9wfhj75_AtH280G59MvJO2EBpymc6ObVd7c9oDD9x0oe2qjlw/s320/rockwellchristmas.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Norman Rockwell, <i>Christmas</i> (1950)</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Clearly f</span>ollowing in this tradition is later American artist Norman
Rockwell, whose unashamed celebrations of American family and small-town
values make him, for many, the unofficial biographer of the American
Christmas. By the 1950’s, however,
Rockwell was already becoming a lone atavistic voice in a changing cultural
landscape.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The Modernists were coming and they had little time for
santa, snowmen, tinsel and glitter. Such
whimsy was so much poisoned eggnog to the carefully constructed outsider status
of the Modern Artist<span style="font-size: small;">;</span> but that isn’t to say some of them didn’t at least try.</span></span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlSl1yURj0cx3B70VLSvbj3QnxKprftcyTOq2kpMJv5NCZ6nRkoWVpgn_rlI8HNKjJo9esyrc_R6QEliytr-Uqysro_p7rR_hpONci67lMR6yTxGJRMUZpEo03Rr8fj4x4qORfV1-3vqk/s1600/Dali.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlSl1yURj0cx3B70VLSvbj3QnxKprftcyTOq2kpMJv5NCZ6nRkoWVpgn_rlI8HNKjJo9esyrc_R6QEliytr-Uqysro_p7rR_hpONci67lMR6yTxGJRMUZpEo03Rr8fj4x4qORfV1-3vqk/s400/Dali.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Salvador Dalí’s<i><b> </b></i></span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><i>Allegory of an
American Christmas</i> (1934<i>,</i> left) and </span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>Christmas (Noel)</i> (1946, right)</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">As might be expected, Salvador Dalí’s<i> Allegory of an
American Christmas</i> (1934) isn’t so much iconoclastic as just downright
perplexing. Featuring the unfamiliar
festive motif of an airplane flying into an egg, it is said to symbolise
Dalí’s rebirth of creativity following his emigration to America. In Dali’s defence, the use of Christmas in
the title was simply a reference to the season of his arrival in his adopted
country. He would attempt to redress this
misdirection with the more unambiguous <i>Christmas (Noel)</i> (1946) – although it’s
only in the company of the earlier work that this painting could ever really be
described as unambiguous.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">In the latter half of the Twentieth <span style="font-size: small;">C</span>entur<span style="font-size: small;">y </span>artists
began to embrace the dark arts of marketing and this most vigorously
commercialised of all festivals once again attracted attention.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3V2pYrEUhJTUEC1pNCo5HZoF174B69onRh1QokrUzvHvtncrRL1whrfR6pL-wDczwW4jshn8sR2jQ1oBJfvYCgnEc2fi0dxU8lwL1_8Xgx23MhAbJb-XK0FF_FrC7Fgtm24vrYPLvYuE/s1600/warholkoonschristmas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3V2pYrEUhJTUEC1pNCo5HZoF174B69onRh1QokrUzvHvtncrRL1whrfR6pL-wDczwW4jshn8sR2jQ1oBJfvYCgnEc2fi0dxU8lwL1_8Xgx23MhAbJb-XK0FF_FrC7Fgtm24vrYPLvYuE/s400/warholkoonschristmas.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Andy Warhol Christmas Card (left) and (unofficial) Jeff Koons Balloon Dog Christmas ornam</span>ent (right)</span></span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Perhaps inspired by his early incarnation <span style="font-size: small;">as</span> a commercial
artist, <a href="http://ahistoryofnewyork.com/2010/12/christmas-with-andy-warhol/" target="_blank">Andy Warhol</a> produced a wealth of charming festive merchandising during
his career, featuring every permutation of wreath, ribbon and shining
star. Some may suggest that Warhol was
making a high camp comment on consumerism but the sheer proliferation of
Christmas imagery suggests that maybe Andy just loved Christmas. The fact that it is so difficult to clearly
identify Warhol’s intentions leaves him simultaneously playing the role of both
David Bowie <i>and</i> Bing Crosby in this Seasonal house party.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The difficulty of deconstructing novelty and ephemera is
that there is little more to find wra<span style="font-size: small;">pped </span>inside than more novelty and ephemera. <span style="font-size: small;">Furthermore</span>, Christmas itself has its own magical powers
of assimilation. Consider the gaudy
ironic pop culture constructions of artist Jeff Koons. As far as I am aware,
Koons has yet to tackle Christmas directly and yet his absurdist ironic imagery
has proven remarkably popular repackaged in unironic Christmas cards and
<a href="http://ifitshipitshere.blogspot.co.uk/2010/10/have-koons-like-christmas-with-these.html" target="_blank">decorations</a>.</span></span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT4Deps2lvqK2kogV3T5t_irXjdoEOuR6XCHCB0NNJbNxgw5JSTJzityVGltCXeEvVk6OUpO9ZOK4p4yixknJXmimOq5u72cmdkl7EoM6Ne7XU5KipdQR_HC_jIyAsbexIkEQN3CuPhVk/s1600/EnglishBanksyChristmas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT4Deps2lvqK2kogV3T5t_irXjdoEOuR6XCHCB0NNJbNxgw5JSTJzityVGltCXeEvVk6OUpO9ZOK4p4yixknJXmimOq5u72cmdkl7EoM6Ne7XU5KipdQR_HC_jIyAsbexIkEQN3CuPhVk/s400/EnglishBanksyChristmas.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Ron English, <i>Merry Christmas</i> (2011), Banksy, <i>I'm Out of Bed...</i> (2011)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Even the more aggressive attempts to satirise and eviscerate
the season from artists such as Ron English and the ubiquitous Banksy result in
images that still sit cosy and comfortably neutered on the mantle between
Nativity scenes and comical cartoon reindeer.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Instead, perhaps the most subversive, important and
undoubtedly influential Christmas artist is the little-known commercial painter
<a href="http://coca-cola-art.com/2008/11/25/coca-cola-christmas-santa-claus-haddon-sundblom/" target="_blank">Haddon Sundblom</a>. It was Sundblom who created Santa Claus, at least in the form we all now know and love, as a seasonal advertising mascot for dentist worrying soft drinks company Coca-Cola. Whilst he was not the first artist to create
an image of Santa - the curious fusion of various folkloric figures with the
Christian Saint Nicolas - it was Sundblom<span style="font-size: small;">'s 1931 vision that<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span>created the archetypal jolly,
round, white-bearded man now recognised the world over.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAWZbJChXvMu-BwMtJOhRSP6rKW8kg1nDo2uzN3GRzapJVK7mLd9PHoPOgJMZvPAQFjEWKjjStqFbbanjImA936aKyl85jXAv4D2jufJWL6BNyKz1botd0AOjtVPuXGsV6dJlXlwpvwLE/s1600/Coca-Cola-Art_Christmas_Santa1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAWZbJChXvMu-BwMtJOhRSP6rKW8kg1nDo2uzN3GRzapJVK7mLd9PHoPOgJMZvPAQFjEWKjjStqFbbanjImA936aKyl85jXAv4D2jufJWL6BNyKz1botd0AOjtVPuXGsV6dJlXlwpvwLE/s400/Coca-Cola-Art_Christmas_Santa1.jpg" width="350" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">With his brand<span style="font-size: small;">-</span>approved red coat, white collar and cuffs, white-cuffed
red trousers and black leather belt and boots, Coca-Cola’s Santa artworks would change our perception of Father Christmas forever </span>and would be adopted as the popular image of <span style="font-size: small;">the North Pole's most famous resident</span>.<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;">However, the</span> fact that Sundblom<span style="font-size: small;">'s Santa<span style="font-size: small;"> was so quickly extricated from his corporate beg<span style="font-size: small;">innings and subsumed back into his <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">mythical</span> roots<span style="font-size: small;">, once again proves <span style="font-size: small;">the resilience of the season<span style="font-size: small;"> to irony and commerc<span style="font-size: small;">i<span style="font-size: small;">al</span> appropriation alike. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">I<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">n a way<span style="font-size: small;">, <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">this is</span> further proof that, </span>des<span style="font-size: small;">pite a swollen rolling snowball<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> of c<span style="font-size: small;">onfused</span> infl<span style="font-size: small;">uences and meanings to many people, the true spi<span style="font-size: small;">rit of Christmas <span style="font-size: small;">might </span>really just be that spirit itself.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Happy Holidays! </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-14166930024900052012-10-22T15:21:00.000-07:002012-10-22T15:46:15.488-07:00Soundtrack or Treat: A Halloween Mixtape<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXT0ZCHIL-FMXUBkXHJVzeE-Ze7bE8hE4j6NjKxyN5KahSbCauGBn8p0id7h2rwW9otTxNYP2PW4wGHDKPmbLgqDFod-Fhyphenhyphen3JQFWPtkwfOD6R2b5tLA7IBoSVU6aeZRuB1jmOsOaiNtZ4/s1600/cthulhu-cute-scary-monster-H-P-lovecraft.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXT0ZCHIL-FMXUBkXHJVzeE-Ze7bE8hE4j6NjKxyN5KahSbCauGBn8p0id7h2rwW9otTxNYP2PW4wGHDKPmbLgqDFod-Fhyphenhyphen3JQFWPtkwfOD6R2b5tLA7IBoSVU6aeZRuB1jmOsOaiNtZ4/s400/cthulhu-cute-scary-monster-H-P-lovecraft.jpeg" width="290" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>I used to regularly bother bars and parties playing willfully quirky selections of other peoples records mixed badly, something that ceased to be a unique selling point somewhere around the late nineties. I don't do this very often any more, except on the occasional aurally-masochistic request.</b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">A</span>s a result, I have started making mixtapes again. This, along with my recent return to comics and loud and lousy bedroom guitar, is entirely symptomatic of my recent college-era geek regression. I plan to blog about the latter soon, but I haven't had much time to write recently. Instead, <a href="http://teapotsandflicknives.blogspot.co.uk/2011/10/why-i-love-halloween-and-other-ghost.html" target="_blank">in celebration of the Halloween season</a>, please accept the following mash up of horror soundtracks and other spooky seasonal treats, featuring guest appearances from John Carpenter, Burt Bacharach, Biz Markie and the long awaited meeting of Goblin with the Goblin King!<b> </b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><a href="http://soundcloud.com/northerneclectic/happy-halloween-mixtape" target="_blank"><b>Soundtrack or Treat! : Mat's Halloween Mixtape (Download on Soundcloud)</b></a><i> </i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><i>Look away now to avoid the oncoming horrors of... </i> </span></div>
<ol style="text-align: left;">
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">“Cropsy…” (<i>The Burning</i>)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Saving the Day – Alessi (<i>Ghostbusters</i>)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">“The dead are coming back to life…” (<i>Night of the Living Dead</i>)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">The Gonk – Herbert Chappell (<i>Dawn of the Dead</i>)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Haunted House – DJ Yoda feat. Biz Markie</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Suspiria – Goblin (<i>Suspiria</i>)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">The Blob – The Five Blobs (<i>The Blob</i>)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">“I knew this boy..” (<i>Halloween</i>)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">The Beyond – Fabio Frizzi (<i>The Beyond</i>)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Putting out the fire – David Bowie (<i>Cat People</i>)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Halloween theme – John Carpenter (<i>Halloween</i>)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">He’s Back (Man behind the Mask) – Alice Cooper (<i>Friday the 13th Pt VI</i>)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Silver Shamrock – John Carpenter (<i>Halloween III: Season of the Witch</i>)</span></li>
</ol>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">I'll be back soon, but in the meantime please visit my friends at the really good </span><a href="http://garagelandmagazine.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Garageland</span></span></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"> Magazine arts and culture blog where I've just guest posted on Bergman's <a href="http://garagelandmagazine.blogspot.co.uk/2012/10/the-seventh-seal-how-do-we-think-we.html" target="_blank"><i>Seventh Seal</i></a>.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Happy Hallowe'en!</span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-48076852876148857642012-09-09T16:06:00.002-07:002012-10-22T15:23:30.973-07:00The E17 Art Trail: Crafts, Cats, Cuts and Camera Porn<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Every September the <a href="http://www.e17arttrail.co.uk/" target="_blank">E17 Art Trail</a> descends on Walthamstow
in East London. This annual event connects the dots between the scattered
creatives of the local area, inviting us to view the diverse work of over 3,500
professional and amateur artists. </span></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid9pA7niYvze1uyKshgn_YUg5BO8OIefRna8LLokxc3pvSdWCReYLaK2wUUnghYb2AHNEB-hBNN6i3ZFM-oRjSV2pdpPGp5Gc8Ci8Wy8jCHsWVRXGOTryW4Jo1LvS-Ti_VZY-STgL_6Gg/s1600/E17poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid9pA7niYvze1uyKshgn_YUg5BO8OIefRna8LLokxc3pvSdWCReYLaK2wUUnghYb2AHNEB-hBNN6i3ZFM-oRjSV2pdpPGp5Gc8Ci8Wy8jCHsWVRXGOTryW4Jo1LvS-Ti_VZY-STgL_6Gg/s320/E17poster.jpg" width="222" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Whilst galleries, studios, shopfronts and sheds from
Blackhorse Road to Wood Street have been seized for artistic subversion,
perhaps the most fun can be had in visiting the many artists who are exhibiting
from their homes. There’s no curatorial
agenda and so there is a delightful chaos in wandering from the little flat of
an elderly amateur painter of floral watercolours to view the smart graphic
work of the professional illustrator just across the street. In giving equal opportunities to creative
endeavours from artists all backgrounds there are some genuine surprises to be
found, regardless of whether you favour high concept artistic intervention or
wholly unironic paintings of unicorns and fairies.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">My highlights included professional illustrator Matt Richard’s
audio-visual project, <a href="http://www.e17arttrail.co.uk/index.php?page=101&passed_index=197" target="_blank"><i>Musical Views</i></a>, which featured crisp graphic portraits of local musicians
alongside recordings with their sitters.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM_1OF1q4_-ztSbO7P5QSpU4ol6bDwIEHHEsnLWB0rONTbXsjfL1eW3bFii3kLpP3A-evLiOoeypXZNfCKIMKwdms58OzgEpKI681_JoZDD5aY2guKA9vKhyphenhyphenncd0ViNM-4HHMm-mbA8T8/s1600/E17Mat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM_1OF1q4_-ztSbO7P5QSpU4ol6bDwIEHHEsnLWB0rONTbXsjfL1eW3bFii3kLpP3A-evLiOoeypXZNfCKIMKwdms58OzgEpKI681_JoZDD5aY2guKA9vKhyphenhyphenncd0ViNM-4HHMm-mbA8T8/s320/E17Mat.jpg" width="283" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Richard’s digital drawings are rendered to capture an analog printed
feel that neatly suited their subject.
His commercial work, also on display inside, was very strong in itself
and so it was heartening to see that he had entered into the local spirit of
the trail with his street installation.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg39_ato4OKzh_al8GqXFrQtPkRn8dYLU_Dc2F-OtT8tlkTCYhwOluFjOJtOEOJeHsgyL99mStjwU6BRGRyJQsh6FrvE8at_ahARvsEqydBe1Y8BTtaBwe4eazU6XDzRecPlfevFtQLWZo/s1600/E17Bryan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg39_ato4OKzh_al8GqXFrQtPkRn8dYLU_Dc2F-OtT8tlkTCYhwOluFjOJtOEOJeHsgyL99mStjwU6BRGRyJQsh6FrvE8at_ahARvsEqydBe1Y8BTtaBwe4eazU6XDzRecPlfevFtQLWZo/s400/E17Bryan.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">I was also energised by the enthusiastic painterly
adventures of David Bryan’s <a href="http://www.e17arttrail.co.uk/index.php?page=101&passed_index=114" target="_blank"><i>Inspiration Comes Tomorrow</i></a>. Bryan had been inspired to exhibit as part of
the trail by a neighbour and had set himself the goal to putting together this
exhibition of selected works in acrylic, oils, printing and photography. He is clearly enjoying the challenge and was
a buoyant host as he led us round his journey as an artist. Like so many others on the trail, he wasn’t
pitching himself as a fully formed professional but rather he was openly
inviting us into his world through his journey into art. He had a colourful energetic flair and I
liked his woodcuts, prints and mixed media work that had somewhat of an Eastern
feel, so I’ll forgive him for siding against me on the oil versus acrylic
debate. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKHw5UFFYa8N858FtJvEpsp3Hukb10X8DyXwqHNGLhM9GD30ZQENjKvwDyE5O3QuJz6_HULv_kNtVacIDgaYuRKZrLorlyZz4Wv8M8V8lGPSs0dljeCMjwyVH0JXHI7nVT_gi_R6z6JrE/s1600/E17LetterboxCinema.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKHw5UFFYa8N858FtJvEpsp3Hukb10X8DyXwqHNGLhM9GD30ZQENjKvwDyE5O3QuJz6_HULv_kNtVacIDgaYuRKZrLorlyZz4Wv8M8V8lGPSs0dljeCMjwyVH0JXHI7nVT_gi_R6z6JrE/s400/E17LetterboxCinema.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Along the way, there is also enough room for the quirky and
crafty. The <i>Made in Stow</i> letterbox
cinema is a cute conceptual installation that reimagines movie classics as if
they were filmed in Walthamstow. These
are screened in a literal letterbox format (above). </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Meanwhile, the <i>Back to Front </i>project along Wingfield Road has sponsored
residents to print large front window hoardings of any image they choose to
represent themselves or their families – collaborating on an open air gallery
that includes everything from Frank Sinatra to <i>“the frog from our garden”</i>. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB0CqoJkcBHqv1in1F0lez-Xg_7foMLY7NqDVzgMF4InppVdYdJFKrOQQb6huvdKKB7S9gs4H9rGEy1tRUf39HnGLKCFt6XFU9ljdmU_9ZZrGxEW86ALU4WJIOFljmt3c9kdue4xaVYfM/s1600/TEARS+OF+BLOOD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB0CqoJkcBHqv1in1F0lez-Xg_7foMLY7NqDVzgMF4InppVdYdJFKrOQQb6huvdKKB7S9gs4H9rGEy1tRUf39HnGLKCFt6XFU9ljdmU_9ZZrGxEW86ALU4WJIOFljmt3c9kdue4xaVYfM/s320/TEARS+OF+BLOOD.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Idiosyncratic personal obsessions are a running theme, with
last years’ <i>Tears of Blood</i> (above) being one of my all time favourites. With very little explanation, a resident
artist had exhibited a small collection of photoshopped images of giant cats
crying tears of blood across picturesque landscapes. When we arrived his house was busy with
visitors and our host expressed genuine bemusement at his popularity. <i> </i><i>“But…”</i>, I tried to explain as if it was the
most obvious thing in the world, <i>“you’ve made images of giant cats…crying tears
of blood…across picturesque landscapes!”</i> Perhaps this says more about me than
him.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKNCQ56R_ptD0ucp_avcD6WyIl47iDobYIWjjMEsviQtidcEQzQhlbtQFt-kKdzY0k4dpOER36fVwvYSEOZBv9NKOZuXXDH363Qf3kj_djohWQMlfjGcGlLjd-g7tQLfhqL_FSeXX9TZA/s1600/E17PussyRiot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKNCQ56R_ptD0ucp_avcD6WyIl47iDobYIWjjMEsviQtidcEQzQhlbtQFt-kKdzY0k4dpOER36fVwvYSEOZBv9NKOZuXXDH363Qf3kj_djohWQMlfjGcGlLjd-g7tQLfhqL_FSeXX9TZA/s400/E17PussyRiot.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The artworks here are not without teeth in other
respects. Notable inclusions this year
included some worrying psychedelic portraits of local homeless people and a sculpture
that invoked the notorious ‘milk-snatching’ of former Tory Prime Minister
Margaret Thatcher in a witty commentary on more recent Conservative Government
cuts. Both of these are exhibited at the
little <a href="http://www.walthamforest.gov.uk/pages/services/vhm.aspx" target="_blank">Vestry Museum</a> which was also screening a series of short films; a
diversion I was denied by my slight hearing issues and the fact it was one
darkened room too many for one of the hottest days of the year.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeV31MoIfdbhr3p0AIRo9i8I7Giml1fg50pGKRb6Hl7GNFbmC2roTvzkFbnng1C1tU91RNpGxNcdcEYQ0-jiPzbvIATNZ4hONsHvGW2yRj1mAKuokx_URLgTOr4Yrt6gfRurW6phD6kyI/s1600/E17MiaSabelLeather.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeV31MoIfdbhr3p0AIRo9i8I7Giml1fg50pGKRb6Hl7GNFbmC2roTvzkFbnng1C1tU91RNpGxNcdcEYQ0-jiPzbvIATNZ4hONsHvGW2yRj1mAKuokx_URLgTOr4Yrt6gfRurW6phD6kyI/s400/E17MiaSabelLeather.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">More traditional craftsmanship can be found at the E17
Designers Market in the Asian Centre or at <a href="http://www.pennyfielding.com/blog/" target="_blank">The Penny Fielding Gallery</a>, where –
among other things - the incredible and diverse leatherwork of saddler <a href="http://www.sabelsaddlery.co.uk/SABEL_Saddlery.html" target="_blank">Mia Sabel</a> is on display.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3vnhbnZBaBa9eXon7Rt0wr_vS5uBgmtX-iWmH5e-JDU0ia2VPP2Px4Yg5HPCZSluHICrVze9DyBcrZZJYzrqDRvbvHkDfkb4AYjeDHIT093MAzlpIBH8R5LN2KJprjd6L7GlKP7yJ1ws/s1600/E17catboy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3vnhbnZBaBa9eXon7Rt0wr_vS5uBgmtX-iWmH5e-JDU0ia2VPP2Px4Yg5HPCZSluHICrVze9DyBcrZZJYzrqDRvbvHkDfkb4AYjeDHIT093MAzlpIBH8R5LN2KJprjd6L7GlKP7yJ1ws/s400/E17catboy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Just across the road from here you can find the unofficial
mascot of the trail in <a href="http://catboy.co.uk/" target="_blank">Carl Harris</a>’ <a href="http://www.e17arttrail.co.uk/index.php?page=101&passed_index=182" target="_blank"><i>Catboy</i></a>.
His Catboy series of drawings and prints are lively and joyfully
energetic. Originally, <i>the boy with a
cat for a shadow</i> had only his titular feline companion to share in his
adventures, but over the last year the daydreaming protagonist has adopted a
bear and circus monkey into his fantasy menagerie. Harris is something of an Art Trail success
story with the Catboy’s charm proving as infectious as his own.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSFdS1Jfd57aOdllOnDeyu5cTqRPSL0i0_w72bgbhMuaud3SOzYu45Xel23AeMBvAbK_dRchToCYI1ivFeH3chpQNj9MCrh16x6Umczoh3eWjbvdx_SWM2RxWEjAEaaXAEl8EHursMQa8/s1600/E17McSimpson.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSFdS1Jfd57aOdllOnDeyu5cTqRPSL0i0_w72bgbhMuaud3SOzYu45Xel23AeMBvAbK_dRchToCYI1ivFeH3chpQNj9MCrh16x6Umczoh3eWjbvdx_SWM2RxWEjAEaaXAEl8EHursMQa8/s400/E17McSimpson.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">More pictures from a story yet to be written are on display
in Amy McSimpson’s…er…<a href="http://www.e17arttrail.co.uk/index.php?page=101&passed_index=105" target="_blank"><i>Pictures From a Story Yet to be Written</i></a>. Her quirky illustrated characters dance
playfully from the walls, the small collaged images offering a fractured
glimpse into a captivating little world yet to be explored. McSimpson is sharing an exhibition space with
Sharon Drew, whose <a href="http://www.e17arttrail.co.uk/index.php?page=101&passed_index=108" target="_blank"><i>New Paintings</i></a> are colourful, luscious and assured
abstraction of the type I really like but people don’t seem to make so much
anymore. They were also notably generous
with their time and their refreshments.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Finally, we spent a little time with <a href="http://www.e17arttrail.co.uk/index.php?page=101&passed_index=129" target="_blank"><i>Some Easons and a Bergman</i></a>,
which was truly a family affair, collecting the prints, paintings and crisp
medium format photography of the eponymous extended family. The medium format prints from a selection of
vintage cameras are as good a reason as any to never touch the Hipstamatic
again and they also had one of my favourite titles of the day – the (child
friendly) Sir-Mix-A-Lot referencing, <i>‘I Like Big Hats and I Cannot Lie’</i>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It’s hard not to be drawn into the local narrative as you
stumble from one little social gathering to the next, sharing recommendations
and anecdotes – although with growing caution as you realise everyone seems to
know each other. This event showcases
the strength of the community as much as the painters, poets, sculptors,
knitters, makers and do-ers who line the route.
Many of the people we spoke to only got to know their neighbours through
the event. Whilst most of the work we
saw was for sale, we never once felt like we were being given a sales pitch,
instead people were welcoming and generous with their time and – in some cases
– their wine. We talked about community,
art, the pain of losing the joy of swearing once having children, the various
techniques of living room art installation, children’s book illustrations, the
aesthetics of dragons and a great deal of technical camera porn.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Community art events of this nature are often exclusively
niche – whether in the form of self-congratulatory urban hipster art markets or
timid rural village fetes. What the E17
Art Trail achieves by being so genuinely inclusive is that it becomes honestly
engaging and relevant outside of the postcode. In placing creativity at the
heart of the community, it celebrates the essential role that art can plays in
our ability to communicate, to relate and to socialise. </span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>The E17 Art Trail continues until the 16th September. You can read more about the event on the <a href="http://www.e17arttrail.co.uk/" target="_blank">official website</a>, where you can also download an app to plan your personal trail. We only saw a fraction of the exhibited work but there is a very interesting blog project that spotlights some of the artists <a href="http://e17arttrail.blogspot.co.uk/" target="_blank">here</a>.</b></span></span></div>
</div>
matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-91002352669487826122012-08-30T15:17:00.004-07:002012-09-04T15:28:21.273-07:00Frightfest The 13th: The Whole Bloody Affair<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">From humble beginnings at the Prince Charles cinema in 2000,
Frightfest has established itself as the UK's premier horror and genre film
festival. Since my first casual visit in
2008, it has also established itself as an annual event I look forward to with
unapologetic excitement.</span></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh8rqCk8_vqQpCJOjpGiaNL4pSDYHy3OvqOJHBt8DcFoP68i4dd6k7Kd9NsVQ0iNRDh8aDMIDsDI95UXHER8AcZ0FxHM_4Bo1UMg7LM-C_X73Zv9X1ARZzwku0ekzCZmFU__AhEBUweqo/s1600/FrightFestPegg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh8rqCk8_vqQpCJOjpGiaNL4pSDYHy3OvqOJHBt8DcFoP68i4dd6k7Kd9NsVQ0iNRDh8aDMIDsDI95UXHER8AcZ0FxHM_4Bo1UMg7LM-C_X73Zv9X1ARZzwku0ekzCZmFU__AhEBUweqo/s320/FrightFestPegg.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Despite its later relocation to the grand surroundings of
the Empire cinema in Leicester Square, apparently the largest screen in Europe,
this celebration of the wild, the deviant and, occasionally, the frankly insane still manages to feel like an illicit and subversive treat.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Even if I can only attend for a day or two, it’s always a
pleasure to soak up the atmosphere as I try to catch that one big festival hit
that heralds the arrival of a wild new talent, be there for the surprise
appearance of a genre legend or share in the rare moviegoing experience that
blindsides an audience into stunned silence or laughter. An incidental word of advice to those trying
to do the same: take a look at the list of films I plan to see and select the
exact opposite. At film festivals, much
like the rest of my real life, I seem forever predestined to be at the wrong
place at the wrong time. Back when I was
at college, almost every gig-going road trip I chose to decline for some
spurious reason ensured that the exciting new band I willfully missed would be just about to make the
big time. I hope that one day Radiohead
recognise my no-show at the Leeds Town and Country in 1995 as a key element in their
stratospheric success. I think I saw
Porcupine Tree instead and look what happened to them. Sorry guys.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj8AADWXjXUWgBSyNNSlGfgmSaSkTSPlbObz5mtyLQQokKvCH9hSCQimfIcSZAD_O7sQsRkJ-_g8etgOYRsk-efO3XVT7xD6OGNcZpK_8Nxlras-cssM5N-s6STfW9c1eCbYCr8DGSM0k/s1600/ff4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj8AADWXjXUWgBSyNNSlGfgmSaSkTSPlbObz5mtyLQQokKvCH9hSCQimfIcSZAD_O7sQsRkJ-_g8etgOYRsk-efO3XVT7xD6OGNcZpK_8Nxlras-cssM5N-s6STfW9c1eCbYCr8DGSM0k/s320/ff4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Anyway, for Frightfest 2012 I decided to challenge my
pop-culture King-Midas-in-reverse curse and booked three and a half days
straight. With my long suffering and
artfully misanthropic friend Kenton as festival co-pilot and unofficial Mat
wrangler, we braved sleep deprivation, alcohol induced catastrophe, cosplay,
thunder, lightning and the grueling horror of the night bus to tear off the
biggest and messiest chunk of horror cinema we could manage.</span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Grabbers</span></span></b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I was only able to make it in time for the last of the trio
of festival openers on Thursday: the Irish monster movie <i>Grabbers</i>. A friend was involved in the production and
so I joined him beforehand with some of the assembled crew at The Harp –
possibly my favourite central London alehouse.
This ensured I was able to ease myself into the appropriately booze
softened mindset for the tale of a small Irish island community coming together
to tackle a monstrous threat in the form of an invading giant space squid. When it’s discovered that a high-blood
alcohol level will kill the aliens, the drunken fight back begins with an all-night
lock in.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjErwIbQGDW3CKVZPoOduFLJZpRhyphenhyphen-V7fYA8BcrG5yp94rZX93xkZ0A5HF7XFnb0zvtJ-WI0bDyVqh4-PvZLJkvnM1zpfOf3UnJzNYUE-ghqUwNJJ0Fzy4Us_MA8JsAHP_45_oDivgTP5Y/s1600/grabbers_2259324b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjErwIbQGDW3CKVZPoOduFLJZpRhyphenhyphen-V7fYA8BcrG5yp94rZX93xkZ0A5HF7XFnb0zvtJ-WI0bDyVqh4-PvZLJkvnM1zpfOf3UnJzNYUE-ghqUwNJJ0Fzy4Us_MA8JsAHP_45_oDivgTP5Y/s400/grabbers_2259324b.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>Tremors</i> is the obvious influence but there’s more than a
measure of <i>Gremlins</i> too, the latter being delightfully homaged during a
(literal) pub crawl by a batch of the newborn nasties. Also in common with its inspirations, it’s a
whole slimy bunch of fun, is very well paced, has some believable chemistry
between the leads (Richard Coyle and Ruth Bradley) and features a wonderful
supporting cast of eccentric alcoholics.</span></span><b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Nightbreed: The Cabal Cut</span></span></b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Friday morning delivered shameless fan service with a
screening of the reassembled Cabal cut of <i>Nightbreed</i> followed by an
interview with giallo legend Dario Argento.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Since its original release in 1990, Clive Barker’s
<i>Nightbreed </i>has always had a reputation as a compromised beast. Suffering from last minute reshoots and
losing over an hour of footage, most commentators assumed the original cut to
be lost forever. However, following the
recent discovery of two complete workprints on videotape, Mark Miller and
Russell Cherrington worked tirelessly from Barker’s script to reintegrate this
footage into the theatrical version and create this 153 minute <i>‘Cabal Cut’</i>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The core story of a man who believes he is a serial killer
searching for the mythical city of Midian – a place where monsters can be
accepted – is largely unchanged but characters are expanded, more time is taken
getting to know the protagonists and further exploration of the mythology of
the <i>Nightbreed </i>menagerie themselves lends the film a quite different, epic
fairy tale atmosphere. <i>The Cabal Cut</i>
presents a much richer and more satisfying narrative, with Anne Bobby’s character
in particular given a stronger and more central role.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>The Cabal Cut</i> was surprisingly enjoyable as a cohesive movie
experience, despite at least half of the feature degrading to grainy VHS with a
distinctly grimy “porn movie” quality. I
hadn’t revisited the movie in perhaps a decade but as the change in filmstock
telegraphed excisions it was fascinating to reflect on the brutally awkward
edits originally forced on the feature.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The Q&A featured the restoration directors along with a
handful of the amiable cast. They
notably included Hugh Ross, who played Narcisse, an eminently quotable fan
favourite. His anecdotes strayed into
<i>Hellraiser </i>territory with a touching reflection on how a small emotional
breakdown whilst in the makeup chair was <i>“a waste of sufferings”</i>. This is possibly a cautionary tale for all
those actors who find themselves tangled up in Clive Barker’s phantasmagorical
nightmare visions.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This Cut is very much a work in progress. I spoke to some festivalgoers who had never
seen the original version of <i>Nightbreed </i>and subsequently found the <i>Cabal Cut</i> a challenging experience to sit through.
This is a shame, but highlights the amount of restoration work still
needed if this is to be anything but a curiosity. If you want to know more, you can visit the
<a href="http://www.occupymidian.com/">Occupy Midian</a> website to lend your support to the completion a proper
release.</span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Total Film Icon: Dario Argento</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">If Dario Argento needs an introduction then you probably
wouldn’t have stayed in the audience for this extended interview and I doubt
you’d be reading this review in the first place. Argento is an Italian film
director, producer and screenwriter. He is best known for his work in the
horror film genre, particularly in the giallo subgenre and for his influence on
modern horror movies. He is not often
known for his relaxed and revealing interviews.
Nevertheless, Total Film scribe Jamie Graham successfully steered his
sometimes challenging interviewee towards some entertaining anecdotes and
navigated carefully through the minefield of the last couple of underwhelming
decades to focus on the Argento’s classic period.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivs6ULVLl8YppfcgjEpLDieNpV146ibyx8FPqXKt8Fbkpw78-uM-NXUJXd0Eu8ABaj0GixHAP9CLgoinoJTJjE93k7FOTa4EuE7h2CeX5p0odY-1GUMb6IiLpL4HvDbpa6LKT5sbI1qMk/s1600/dario-argento-310-75.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivs6ULVLl8YppfcgjEpLDieNpV146ibyx8FPqXKt8Fbkpw78-uM-NXUJXd0Eu8ABaj0GixHAP9CLgoinoJTJjE93k7FOTa4EuE7h2CeX5p0odY-1GUMb6IiLpL4HvDbpa6LKT5sbI1qMk/s400/dario-argento-310-75.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There was some brief perfunctory talk concerning his most
recent outing, <i>Dracula 3D</i>. The most
entertaining and potentially libelous anecdote involved Rutger Hauer, a young
Russian girl and a bush. As I don’t have
the legal safety net of mistranslation, I’ll leave the rest to your
imagination. He did also make an
interesting case for the potential of 3D, citing how impressed he was by a rare
3D screening of Hitchcock’s <i>Dial M for Murder</i>.
He spoke about his influences and the selection of his top 100
horror films for Italian television – six of which were his own. When asked whether David Gordon Green could
top the original <i>Suspiria </i>with his upcoming remake, Argento responded with a
genuinely bemused <i>“Go ahead and try.”</i> He
also joined the audience in resounding laughter when Graham quoted Green as
saying he wanted his remake of the famously psychedelic movie to be <i>“more
psychedelic”</i>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Predictably, the audience questions descended into a kind of
love-in for the Maestro. Whilst it was
nice to see him appreciated, I felt some more actual questions might have been
preferable – although Ken pointed out that I was watching with rapt bambi-eyes
myself. Regardless of whether this was
the case, Argento’s appearance added a sense of gravity to the proceedings,
much the same as Ali’s cameo during the Olympics but with a more hopeful
glimmer that maybe – just maybe – Argento could yet make that elusive glorious
comeback.</span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">V/H/S</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We skipped <i>Hidden in the Woods</i> and - following the rather
negative reports of those that attended - demonstrated uncharacteristically good
judgement in doing so. I’d like to say
this was a carefully calculated move but it was more a result of an
increasingly desperate need for food, drink and at least a glimpse of
daylight. Following a giallo inspired
pizza and wine break we returned for the most hipster screening of the weekend:
the mumblecore found-footage anthology<i> V/H/S</i>.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The anthology framing device here is that a clutch of boorish
low-rent criminal types are hired to break into a house to steal a specific
videotape. Inconveniently, they discover
a dead body, sitting in front of a bank of television screens, alongside a vast
stack of VHS cassettes. As they search
for their prize they watch some of the mysterious tapes and discover they
contain five short found-footage films from five different up-and-coming
directors.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Whilst not the worst movie we saw, the hype surrounding
<i>V/H/S</i> meant it felt like the most disappointing. It was overlong and much of the exposition was spent in the
intolerable onscreen company of obnoxious frat boy shenanigans. The hit-and-miss nature of the episodes soon
gets tiresome, although there are inventive stylistic touches and Ti West’s
<i>Second Honeymoon</i> at least allows us some character insight and a reasonable
punchline. For the most part, however,
the stories don’t seem to go anywhere or have any particular point other than
as a shaky-cam stylistic exercise.
Perhaps the worst culprit is the wrap-around tale itself, which – like
its own (not quite) deceased antagonist - simply gives up and goes home before
the final story.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Anthology segments need to be extremely tightly written to
succeed but the majority didn’t seem to make a whole lot of sense except to be
unsettling and weird. Unsettling and
weird can be fine for its own sake, if you have the time to build atmosphere or
indulge in experiential filmmaking, but in short vignettes you really need to get to the point quickly with a neat payoff or a shock twist. <i> </i></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>The Strange Thing That Happened to Emily When
She Was Young</i>, the Joe Swanberg directed segment that plays out solely through
the medium of Skype, is the strongest inclusion by far. This is an engaging two-hander with a
charismatic lead, a sense of mystery and some genuine scares. It uses the stylistic touches of the
found-footage medium to excellent and inventive effect, delivers a satisfying
twist yet still keeps a little mystery for itself. The problem here was that it came toward the
end of the two-hour feature, too late to instil any enthusiasm for the two
remaining tales and instead serving to highlight everything that didn’t quite
work in the rest of the movie. To
conclude on positive note: the AV-mash up montage over the end
credits was pretty cool but on the whole I think I preferred the awesome poster
to the movie itself.</span></span><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">[REC]3: Génesis</span></span></b><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The closer for Friday was Paco Plaza’s <i>[REC]3</i>, the
next installment in the effective and inventive Spanish zombie series. The first two <i>[REC]</i> movies were bloody and
bleak with an interesting spin on zombie tropes, primarily concerning the
inclusion of religious elements that present the zombie plague as a kind of
viral demonic possession. <i>[REC]</i> and <i>[REC]2</i> were also presented as
found-footage and I naturally expected much the same from the three-quel. However, if <i>V/H/S</i> felt like a dour funeral
for the found-footage format then <i>[REC]3</i> is its riotous wake.</span></span></div>
</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDyJETj9EjfbS2vRQHxmA8c1nQ7dpjvqhkJdtgzUeG0v8DqreglMdIAyGitOugc8JbZdVReaJ95tY4u4Cyp1iTaLmnhjODn9XykkmptnrzQl6YMU3G5Q1Ss9DH4Kwtx32dgqrHhikeXrk/s1600/REC-3-at-Mile-High-Horror-Film-Festival.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDyJETj9EjfbS2vRQHxmA8c1nQ7dpjvqhkJdtgzUeG0v8DqreglMdIAyGitOugc8JbZdVReaJ95tY4u4Cyp1iTaLmnhjODn9XykkmptnrzQl6YMU3G5Q1Ss9DH4Kwtx32dgqrHhikeXrk/s320/REC-3-at-Mile-High-Horror-Film-Festival.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This episode is intended to occur at roughly the same time
of the first two movies. Here, Clara and
Koldo are a young couple of newlyweds celebrating at a grand Barcelona
mansion. Via a neat but unfortunate
twist for the wedding party, the zombie plague soon invades the reception. Separated in the chaos, Clara and Koldo </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">(Leticia Dolera and </span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Diego Martín) </span></span> fight
alongside a plucky band of survivors in a desperate battle to reunite against
the odds. All manner of madness ensues,
with standout scenes involving a chainsaw, a food blender, a hearing aid mishap
and a delightfully odd nod to Don Quixote and Sancho Panza.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Unexpectedly funny and romantic in spirit, it has both
splatter and genuine heart in generous measures. Clara emerges as the most
kick-ass vengeful bride since <i>Kill Bill</i> and the story wittily eviscerates the
conventions and tone of the series while staying true to the mythology. The opening scenes are delivered in the found
footage style of a wedding video before that format is suddenly ditched in
favour of a more conventional cinematic approach in a deft transition undertaken
via a neat, somewhat meta scene involving the wedding cameraman.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">While some of the audience seemed unhappy with the new direction
of the franchise, it should be pointed out that what the made the <i>[REC]</i> series
so refreshing was the irreverence with which it approached some of the
conventional zombie horror tropes, so it shouldn’t really be a shock that Plaza
has applied that same irreverence to the series itself. I’m now very much looking forward to
co-creator Jaume Balaguero’s<i> [REC]4</i> .</span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Eurocrime!</span></span></b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">On Saturday morning, like the loose-cannon renegade I am, I
was up early to catch to catch this documentary on 70’s Italian crime cinema…because
that’s how I roll.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">During the 1970s, the Italian Film Industry released
hundreds of <i>poliziotteschi </i>movies. These
began as quick, cheap and grimy knock offs of popular American cop and crime
thrillers, such as <i>Dirty Harry</i> and <i>The French Connection</i>, but their popularity
would result in a trend to rival that of the preceding Spaghetti Westerns and
Gialli.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Eurocrime tells the story of the <i>poliziotteschi </i>through anecdotes from genre luminaries including Franco Nero, Enzo Castellari,
Henry Silva, Richard Harrison and John Saxon, all of whom speak openly and with
tangible affection for the genre. It is
funny, fascinating and - in the case of the anarchic approach to stunts and
guerrilla location work - genuinely thrilling as you realise just how many of
the punches, car crashes and even bullets fired in these scenes were real.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Regardless of any initial interest in the genre, the gradual
entanglement of politics and real life organised crime in these productions
provides a fascinating parallel social history.
Tellingly, Ken had no experience of the <i>poliziotteschi </i>genre yet still
enjoyed the documentary on the strength of the story it had to tell. With some slight trimming and a little polish
of the graphics, <i>Eurocrime</i> has the potential to be a breakout documentary hit
with a wider audience.</span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Outpost: Black Sun</span></span></b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Next up was <i>Outpost: Black Sun</i> – a zombie Nazi action
movie. Ken was responsible for wanting
to see this one as it seemed to push all his military action, apocalyptic
and…er…zombie Nazi buttons. I’d made him
sit through Argento so it was the least I could do and, besides, how could a
zombie Nazi action movie not be fun?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Sadly, <i>Outpost: Black Sun</i> is exactly how.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It’s well shot with two strong leading performances
(including Grabbers’ Richard Coyle) and makes great use of its limited budget,
until you realise every scene seems to take place in the same little patch of
forest, repeated over and over with different lighting effects. Admittedly, once at the eponymous Outpost, we
are momentarily excited by the appearance of some corridors, until we realise
that we will now be running around these identical corridors for the remainder
of the movie. </span></span><br />
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<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">During a later session of recriminations and
apologies, Ken pointed out that this was a clear case of
‘<i>Doctor Who from the Seventies syndrome</i>’ – when the show became a tour of all
the quarries in the UK. It’s all taken
very seriously too, with little fun, outrageousness or excitement to
compensate. In parts, it almost seems to
think it’s <i>Munich</i>, but it’s not <i>Munich</i> because – ultimately - it’s about zombie
Nazis trying to take over the world. A
movie about zombie Nazis could be many things but really it shouldn’t be this
boring.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Next up was a break with Jim from the <a href="http://www.midnight-video.com/" target="_blank">Midnight Video</a> podcast
for an impromptu listener meet up at <a href="http://www.beerintheevening.com/pubs/s/65/657/" target="_blank">The Chandos</a> in Leicester Square. Midnight Video is always an entertaining
listen and co-presenters Jim and Phil have an easygoing chemistry and
infectious enthusiasm that seems to generate unsolicited excitement for even
the most terrible relics from the movie graveyard. They also make some great discoveries
too. The Chandos is one of a handful of
Sam Smiths’ pubs in the centre of London, a brewery chain that eschews
advertising, gimmicks and flashy promotions to concentrate on serving a fine
selection of their own beers and spirits at an affordable price.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">With that Eurocrime inspired product placement section of my
review safely over, we headed back for the evening screenings, beginning with
<i>Under The Bed</i>.</span></span><b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></b><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Under The Bed</span></span></b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Neal Hausman (Jonny Weston) has returned home to reconnect
with his estranged father, stepmother and brother, Paulie. The reunion soon turns sour, however, when it
seems that the mysterious monster under the bed that had tormented him years
before – and may have been responsible for the death of his mother in a
housefire - has turned its attention to his younger sibling.</span></span></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>Under The Bed </i>seemed to divide people, but I enjoyed this
slice of good old fashioned Spielbergian family drama. The first two thirds of broken family
tensions and fraternal bonding are effective and rather touching before the
final reel spins off into more brutal and hysterical fantasy horror
territory. Some people felt a little alienated
by the sudden change in tone but I found the conclusion was all the more
effective for coming from the distant leftfield. It also ensured that by the time the
characters were established as actually being in mortal and decapitative
danger, you really did care about them. It also helped that the young brothers at the
heart of the story are convincing and sympathetic in a way that child actors
often seem to find so hard to achieve.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Some of the characters are underused and there is a problem
with languid pacing in the middle of the movie, but it’s quite atmospheric and,
in the uncertainty over which direction you feel the story is going to take,
channels the odd mood of its closest cinematic antecedent – <i>Poltergeist </i>–
rather well.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">At this point, Ken was evidently missing his fix of
apocalyptic misery so he went to see <i>Remnants </i>at the second screen. Apparently it was very good – in a depressing
yet moving kind of way - which made him happy.
I stayed in the main screen to watch <i>Tulpa</i>.</span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Tulpa</span></span></b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Alongside the glamorous cast and crew, Alan Jones announced
the screening of <i>Tulpa </i>with a cry of <i>“giallo is back!”</i> There was much
anticipation that Federico Zampaglione’s movie would be a contemporary rebirth
or revival of a much-maligned genre that had long descended into parody. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The murder mystery plot will seem familiar to those with
even a loose working knowledge of the giallo and its conventions. A beautiful successful businesswoman, whose
nocturnal thrills take her to the mysterious underground sex club Tulpa, finds
both her bedroom and boardroom colleagues being elaborately murdered in a
series of stylish set pieces. With few
suspects left standing, she begins to wonder if she herself is unwittingly
responsible for the crimes or whether there may even be some supernatural force
involved.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Tulpa lovingly repackages and amplifies the tropes of the
giallo, turning the violence and eroticism up to <i>undici</i>. The sexual content in
particular is given more attention than in the classic era of the giallo. Unfortunately, some of the more frustrating
aspects of the genre have also been inherited, most notably in the terrible
English language dubbing and the baffling translation of a script I would
suspect was already leaning toward the wacky.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">At first, this seems entirely self aware - with a stylishly
executed bedroom-bondage murder followed immediately by a scene of boardroom
exposition that introduces our heroine.
This first scene of generic corporate dialogue is delivered in the
awkward and stilted English language dub we all know and love but subsequently
switches to Italian subtitles when the Chairman complains of the necessity of
having to deliver such meetings in English. This is a delightful moment at
which it seemed the film had directly addressed this key failing in the serious
giallo and then promptly dispensed with it in a smart and witty fashion. Just one scene later, however, it sadly proves
not to be the case as the unintentional comedy of the English dub returns for
the majority of the feature and dominates and drowns out any subtlety of parody the
film has of its own. Even worse, the dub
was in turn drowned out by the roaring laughter of the Frightfest crowd and it
was hard not to cringe in embarrassment for the assembled cast and crew.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The problem is that beneath the unintentional laughs of the
dubbing, the film clearly has a wit of its own, but that subtlety – as
evidenced in the opening scene described above - was lost as one outrageously
wooden line followed another.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></span><br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Some of the worst treatment is reserved for poor Michela
Cescon, who plays Lisa’s friend Joanna.
Her performance was overdubbed with a peculiar British accent that was
reminiscent of a woman with a brain injury in an awful Richard Curtis movie.</span></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In this respect, there’s very little difference in it’s
deficiencies to the classic giallo of thirty years ago. If an audience can willfully look beyond this
in Argento I’m not sure why it seemed to entertain so much here. Perhaps it was because there was an
expectation this would be a neo-giallo of sorts, a reinvention or rebirth of
the giallo, when if fact it could better have been appreciated if approached as
a lost film or unreconstructed homage.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The distraction of all this is a shame as there is much more
to enjoy here. It is sumptuously shot, there are deviously inventive death
scenes, a terrific baroque score, a charismatic lead performance from Claudia
Gerini and a snakes eye perspective of a transexual chase through the sex
club. At its conclusion, Tupla is also blessed with the wackiest giallo
deus-ex-machina since Alice the chimpanzee saved the day at the conclusion of
<i>Phenomena</i>. Holy hermaphrodite scanners,
Batman!</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">At times it is wonderfully inspired, at other times it is
woefully misguided, but either way it was sublime entertainment to watch in a
packed and boisterous cinema. There are
two movies here in a way. I would love
to see an Italian language version to fully appreciate Zampaglione’s style and
true intent but on the other hand the Frightfest dub will always remain an
awfully quotable guilty pleasure.</span></span><b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></b><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Maniac</span></span></b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Finally, the day closed with the hobbit-bothering Alexandra
Aja produced remake of William Lustig's sleazy cult 1980 slasher of the same name. Elija Wood
leads as Frank, the owner of a mannequin shop who is dealing with his repressed
sexuality and troubling maternal issues by brutally stalking, killing and scalping
women in a barren New York netherworld.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>Maniac </i>is a startling technical achievement and I found it
deeply disturbing. Aside from two key scenes, it is shot entirely from
the killer’s point-of-view. The audience is both
captive and complicit – forced to share the experience of Frank’s empty and
dislocated life with every dreamlike and meandering incident of his daily
routine threatening to explode in another gruesome act of violence with soul
crushing inevitability. With a bombastic synthesiser soundtrack reminiscent of <i>Drive </i>and scattered with increasingly surreal
vignettes as Frank’s weak grasp on his reality collapses, <i>Maniac </i>is arthouse
meets grindhouse.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIaGWBHDeeWFqPVne3EsjheDV9nrCHkBMCfgWjDDg5PYHZF-AuNX9UdS5JKejcHQBpU8Ru5Pcl0OvxHxUds4dQRfoEomy6DGUVAway8ra-OxR64U1tyFcyVpTyBO4n-BuxhHJfC-tfMjg/s1600/mainiac2012" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIaGWBHDeeWFqPVne3EsjheDV9nrCHkBMCfgWjDDg5PYHZF-AuNX9UdS5JKejcHQBpU8Ru5Pcl0OvxHxUds4dQRfoEomy6DGUVAway8ra-OxR64U1tyFcyVpTyBO4n-BuxhHJfC-tfMjg/s400/mainiac2012" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This subtext of art meeting sleaze is made explicit when
Frank meets Anna, a photographer whose subject is mannequins. The young artist, fascinated by Frank's craft and
seemingly seduced by his outsider status, tries to draw him into her uptown
world. His awkward inexplicable
courtship – and futile attempts to curb his murderous impulses – forms the
final painful act of the movie.
The first person perspective really pays off during the last act as we
find Frank has become both our protagonist <i>and </i>antagonist. We know Frank is a monster, but he is a human
too, not a space squid or zombie or demonic entity hiding under the bed. We find ourselves not sympathising or
empathising or even truly understanding Frank but we are desperate to find some
hope, some meaning, some purpose to what we have seen. Of course, it shouldn’t be a spoiler to
reveal that there is none to be found here.
Some felt Tulpa was the best worst movie of the weekend but Maniac is in
some ways the extreme of this. It is not
an enjoyable experience and it’s not a film I could ever say I like: it is
nihilistic, bleak, gruelling and unquestionably nasty – not to mention
deeply and troublingly misogynistic – but I have to admit it is astonishingly
powerful. I didn’t even feel comfortable
making any scalp-referencing ‘wigging out’ or ‘hell toupee’ twitter puns and
that is saying something.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">By Sunday, I was starting to feel cimema fatigue but
determined to finish my cinema marathon on a more upbeat note.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Berberian Sound Studio</span></span></b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">To say Peter Strickland’s <i>Berberian Sound Studio</i> polarised
opinion would be an understatement. This
arthouse love letter to 70’s Italian exploitation cinema stars the oddly
compelling Toby Jones as Gilderoy, a meek sound engineer from suburban Dorking.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxccIOtyYHG3AX02yedQz82jFV1fzABV1wFMJMt-uVJ-7tsBNmoUg56mnjljuhGf2aUhbxAqUOUUg1bFkZ5L1BMO68GIOuy6Tgd6Kd2EuUHUUCte6M8wtksyhHZ85ho8PGJ_Xv6n4V-pk/s1600/berberian-sound-studio-il-protagonsita-toby-jones-in-una-scena-del-film-con-fatma-mohamed-245953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxccIOtyYHG3AX02yedQz82jFV1fzABV1wFMJMt-uVJ-7tsBNmoUg56mnjljuhGf2aUhbxAqUOUUg1bFkZ5L1BMO68GIOuy6Tgd6Kd2EuUHUUCte6M8wtksyhHZ85ho8PGJ_Xv6n4V-pk/s400/berberian-sound-studio-il-protagonsita-toby-jones-in-una-scena-del-film-con-fatma-mohamed-245953.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Gilderoy relocates to Rome to work on a horror movie, <i>The
Equestrian Complex</i>. We see the perfectly
realised opening credits of this movie, but the rest is left for our imagination
to draw from the aural soundscapes as we follow Gilderoy working alongside the Italian
crew to overdub and provide the sound effects of their mysterious supernatural
thriller.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">At first, it’s seemingly played for droll ‘fish out of
water’ laughs as the homely Gilderoy struggles to engage with the
passionate and intense working methods of the Italians. But as the production slows to a crawl,
tensions rise and Gilderoy finds himself seemingly trapped in the claustrophobic
confines of the titular studio, life begins to imitate art. Supernatural and
giallo scenes begin to play out in the ‘real world’, incidents repeat
themselves and Gilderoy is trapped in this cyclical limbo for so long he
begins to talk in Italian.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAe1vGYInF0La3rj9a2O6H8-HzU1VUOgb5Y13FdC_643-bZgkg7z_0-aGa3cjmJAjZcIljgPBvFdxAXiQV9fb0LrzG069TVWlm-U1c7teUM0kv75m5jQsL0cSCpj02jDKnsECD9yuBbNc/s1600/berberian-sound-studio-loca.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAe1vGYInF0La3rj9a2O6H8-HzU1VUOgb5Y13FdC_643-bZgkg7z_0-aGa3cjmJAjZcIljgPBvFdxAXiQV9fb0LrzG069TVWlm-U1c7teUM0kv75m5jQsL0cSCpj02jDKnsECD9yuBbNc/s200/berberian-sound-studio-loca.jpg" width="140" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">With a fine absorbing soundtrack by retro-futurist
electronic outfit Broadcast, rich period production and a detailed, lingering
and near pornographic approach to the technical delivery of movie audio mixing,
I enjoyed every moment of the running time right up to the sudden white-out
ending. At this point, I suddenly
realised I had no idea what had just happened.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Was it a Kafka-esque meditation on the frustration of
claiming expenses or was there something more diabolical behind Gilderoy’s
metatextual unravelling? If we choose to interpret this as a self referential take
on the filmmaking process, it could be viewed as a more sober arthouse take on
Tom DiCillo’s <i>Living in Oblivion</i>, only with less Steve Buscemi and more
violence to cabbages.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I think the problem was that it was presented alongside much more
conventional horror movies and referenced the genre with so many knowing and
beautifully reconstructed moments of homage that we are tricked into expecting
a final reveal to tie everything together. But it is not a conventional horror
movie and, on reflection, I think any definitive ending would have negated the
wonderful dream logic of the rest of the movie.
The most appropriate way for it to conclude was for it to remain a
puzzle and invite its viewers to return again and again to indulge in its audio
visual delights.</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Sinister</span></span></b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>Sinister </i>was a slick supernatural serial killer production
starring Ethan Hawke as Ellison, a crime writer who has moved his family into a
"murder house" so that he can investigate a case of mysterious serial murders
that may save his fading career. As these
serial murders have all involved identical family units to his own, not to
mention the box of snuff movies he discovers in the attic, you will probably
guess this wasn’t a good idea.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBWG9oFtsnBM91DvZAwaaY0gmP5GuJEl7husklAqtA5q7gG1asYX91U5yTg2e4HFEQouNx1b1TZTNJavIOw1t0ahzzB8UWZR-inzKa-cMyAqWTUP4VKW9mSrilZ6PaDj3bio0MyeHFN5g/s1600/frightfest-2012-sinister-reaction-112131-00-470-75.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBWG9oFtsnBM91DvZAwaaY0gmP5GuJEl7husklAqtA5q7gG1asYX91U5yTg2e4HFEQouNx1b1TZTNJavIOw1t0ahzzB8UWZR-inzKa-cMyAqWTUP4VKW9mSrilZ6PaDj3bio0MyeHFN5g/s400/frightfest-2012-sinister-reaction-112131-00-470-75.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It’s a straightforward ghost train ride and it does exactly
what it sets out to do, although it was also surprisingly mean spirited, which
was somewhat refreshing for a mainstream American production and
came as a perversely pleasant surprise.
Along the way Sinister delivers some genuine jolting shocks, had some
admirably subtle sound design and some welcome, but sparingly used, comic
relief.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There are more than a few confusing developments and plot
holes but Hawke’s performance makes <i>Sinister </i>work. He delivers a serious and layered performance
in the face of increasingly ridiculous supernatural proceedings. He also overcomes an unlikable character –
and weird goatee – to create a lead you come to sympathise with.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It was plainly written by genre fans and there are a couple
of playful and knowing touches that set it apart from the crowd – notably the
fact that, at the first indisputable sign of a supernatural presence in their
house, the family immediately pack up and leave unhindered that night like any
sane family would. It’s a nice touch and
would have worked in any other haunted house movie of it’s ilk – just not this
one, obviously.</span></span><b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></b><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In Memoriam</span></span></b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Although the festival rolled on into the Monday, <i>Sinister
</i>was my final movie for this year. This meant that I still managed to miss a number of well reported screenings, including </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="st"><span class="osl" style="color: black;">both Jaume Balagueró's</span></span> <i>Sleep Tight </i>
and </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span class="st">Jen and Sylvia Soska's <i>American Mary</i>. I've also failed to mention some of the peripheral highlights. Among these was a screening of Lee Hardcastle's <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y_z3EBalwI4">claymation version of <i>The Raid </i>(with cats)</a> and </span></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Simon Pegg presenting Special Effects wizard Greg Nicotero with the first Frightfest Variety Lifetime Award. Of the sneak preview footage screened, the most interesting seemed to be Neil Jordan's upcoming revisionist feminist vampire epic, <i>Byzantium, </i>and Ben Wheatley's black comedy, <i>Sighseers</i>. Overall it was a very enjoyable few days, as much for the company as
for the movies. In the programme,
Frightfest speaks of its audience as family and it’s something I’ve come to
really appreciate over the years. It’s
funny to find such a sociable group of people being brought together by their
love of often anti-social movies, but even at their most cantankerous, sleep
deprived, outraged or hungover, it’s the sense of shared enthusiasm by everyone
involved that ensures I’ll keep coming back.</span></span><br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIIxUVDjD8fVcS_7MtjW_1zn5ULIu8u0jmRP27AUFaIDYKkwt56MdiQUJF5nV_wPs9cm32-7qsW00Fmv18M6yrrxBKF3iAV1SCLOAG_owFvuzHR27FpL3uaLy57_sWoWHtfC1qLtygQpE/s1600/Threestoogeszombie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIIxUVDjD8fVcS_7MtjW_1zn5ULIu8u0jmRP27AUFaIDYKkwt56MdiQUJF5nV_wPs9cm32-7qsW00Fmv18M6yrrxBKF3iAV1SCLOAG_owFvuzHR27FpL3uaLy57_sWoWHtfC1qLtygQpE/s320/Threestoogeszombie.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Some soulless reanimated zombies...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">and the Frightfest 2012 poster </span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I love horror and genre film mostly because I love film.
It’s a view that is shared broadly by filmmakers as much as viewers. Many of the highest regarded writers and
directors working in cinema today – be it artistically or financially - began
their career in low budget horror or genre pictures.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Genre hero turned mainstream success <a href="http://www.joblo.com/horror-movies/news/sam-raimi-calls-the-evil-dead-remake-really-bloody-and-is-writing-a-new-horror-script" target="_blank">Sam Raimi</a> expands on this: <i>“[Horror film audiences] are very savvy to film
technique. The horror audience is the most original audience out there. They
don’t want sequels, they don’t want what most of the audience wants. Most of the
time audiences want to see versions of what they’ve seen before. Horror
audiences are like, ‘no. Show me something I’ve never seen before! I want to be
freaked out!’ My hat’s off to them. They’re a really original audience. Even
more than the art film crowd they’re the ones who break new ground and accept
new techniques from filmmakers on the cutting edge. Not the indie guys, but
those guys. The low-budget horror fans.”</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Even just within the dozen or so movies I’ve reviewed above,
the diversity and invention of the genre is clearly evident. Events like Frightfest recognise the
contribution of the fans and even allow the audience to share a little
ownership over these movies. It creates
a sense of community that charms guests and attendees alike.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In such company, it’s all too easy to suddenly and
accidentally find yourself overestimating the importance of movies – but
ultimately it has to be a healthy form of escapism, being able to spend at least
some time not worrying about the very bad things happening in the real world and
enjoy watching the very bad imaginary things happening onscreen for a while
instead.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk9i02Csaj1UP7xGqoswVn6zwkv_QrC0vEmv8NZgixAENRRGg9X_OKMMB1lYqz69orGImtkQCGpTWLhq0-GPJwNNsWOgilZQmm9_AihkAk6irg8TUBTJpmiW7_oQrVJzd2jJN8AdirTR4/s1600/frightfest-meet-the-team-by-julie-edwards.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk9i02Csaj1UP7xGqoswVn6zwkv_QrC0vEmv8NZgixAENRRGg9X_OKMMB1lYqz69orGImtkQCGpTWLhq0-GPJwNNsWOgilZQmm9_AihkAk6irg8TUBTJpmiW7_oQrVJzd2jJN8AdirTR4/s400/frightfest-meet-the-team-by-julie-edwards.jpg" title="" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Faces
of Frightfest: Paul McAvoy, Greg Day, Alan Jones and Ian Rattray have
run the festival since its inception. Irrepressibly energetic, amiable
and enthusiastic, they still introduce every feature, moderate
interviews and chair Q&A sessions as the pubic face of Frightfest
(pic: <a href="http://www.film4.com/minisite/film4-frightfest-2012/features/article/frightfest-meet-the-team">film4.com</a>)</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-44657198505715057532012-06-26T14:05:00.001-07:002012-07-23T14:46:13.633-07:00Loving the Alien: Prometheus and a Review of the Alien Quintet from Memory<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b><i><span style="color: red;">Warning: the following article is extremely SPOILER heavy</span></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>I usually eschew movie reviews on my blog as more able, more
literate, more funnier and…er…more grammatically correct <a href="http://www.blogomatic3000.com/2012/05/30/review-prometheus/" target="_blank">cinema scribes</a> are
legion on the internets. Nevertheless,
my own conflicted opinion of Prometheus, Ridley Scotts return to the universe
of his seminal space horror, prompted me to finally make my long delayed entry
into this overcrowded arena.</b> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">In <i>Prometheus</i>, android crewmember David (Michael Fassbender)
reflects that <i>"big things have small beginnings."</i> It could be that he
refers to the tiny glob of black goo he holds on his fingertips - a cosmic slop
that just might hold the key to understanding of the birth of all human life -
but it may equally hold true for the Alien saga itself. This twisting and evolving series has been a
constant movie presence in the first three decades of my life. As a kid I
loved all things alien related and even dressed as
Kane from <i>Alien</i> – complete with polystyrene chestburster – for the fancy dress
party at my aunties wedding. A rough calculation suggests I must have seen <i>Alien</i> when I was just 11 or 12. That's probably close to child endangerment...</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj933usNqcTNLtvq-reoM5aqb7sm_4Rcx33FUiAGiHMeGnc80Bs1y7RvelwaOY1KCC0O9JRurJH7urV8Guw7dZiygCxY76q9tZ6lXHysH2xW7Q0fUTvLyJcafC-TfnoKODHnKGuKsf1fFo/s1600/JohnHurtAlienOnBoard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj933usNqcTNLtvq-reoM5aqb7sm_4Rcx33FUiAGiHMeGnc80Bs1y7RvelwaOY1KCC0O9JRurJH7urV8Guw7dZiygCxY76q9tZ6lXHysH2xW7Q0fUTvLyJcafC-TfnoKODHnKGuKsf1fFo/s400/JohnHurtAlienOnBoard.jpg" width="278" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Alien on Board: Kane (John Hurt) in <i>Alien (1979)</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">But enough of <i>my</i> small beginnings for the time being. <b>Alien (1979) </b>was released when I was not even two years old and it is in this
taut, bleak and claustrophobic sci-fi shocker we find the small beginnings of <i>Prometheus</i>. Here, the crew of the deep-space haulage ship Nostromo are stirred from hibernation to answer what they believe is an
extraterrestrial distress signal from a mysterious source. They discover a strange biomechanical
spacecraft whose sole occupant appears to be a long dead and fossilised alien corpse,
it’s chest burst ominously open from the inside. The famous sequence that follows loses little
of it’s horror over repeat viewing.
Crewmember Kane (John Hurt) unwisely inspects the yonic lipped opening
of some grotesque egg just a little too closely. The egg disgorges a clawed crablike organism
that immediately attaches itself to his face, incapacitating him and – as we
later discover – impregnating him with the embryo of a vicious killer
xenomorph. Showing some hint of grim
slapstick timing even in its earliest years, this alien-on-board decides to
messily explode from Kanes stomach around the dinner table. With the assistance of the only special effect in
the movie that has notably dated rather badly, the newborn puppet-on-a-stick
scurries off into The Nostromo, leaving the bloodsoaked crew in shock.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">What follows - as the Alien matures quickly and begins to
eliminate the crew one by one - is a brutally efficient stalk and slash
thriller set aboard the cramped confines of the spaceship, with a creature that can’t
be reasoned with or understood. The
mystery of the movie is maintained as the gradually diminishing crew
are too busy fighting for their lives to take the time to reflect on
specifics of their situation. Similarly,
the viewer is kept as much in the dark as the alien itself, the tension rising
as our glimpses of the creature and its gory handiwork are largely
offscreen or obscured by shadow.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAFci6SV6LRzDZTB3mYC_5z5iVX1j9Jul0K1ThoVW3zHTPWWE1_7wsOgNLeeYEN9nFtNgrslYxm5nG8d4KbFjP8xraISwxAIAODXhhKgQc9lCGhFQce3ixt7sm1G7X-ZjOnuPnavQLjYs/s1600/AlienKaneActionFigure.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAFci6SV6LRzDZTB3mYC_5z5iVX1j9Jul0K1ThoVW3zHTPWWE1_7wsOgNLeeYEN9nFtNgrslYxm5nG8d4KbFjP8xraISwxAIAODXhhKgQc9lCGhFQce3ixt7sm1G7X-ZjOnuPnavQLjYs/s400/AlienKaneActionFigure.jpg" width="272" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Unlike <i>Star Wars</i>, the Freudian nightmares</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">of <i>Alien</i> were never likely to inspire a family</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">friendly line of merchandising.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">This is perhaps what frustrated me a little when I first saw
Alien. I’m not sure how young I was, but
I do remember wondering what all the fuss was about. I was plainly too young to
appreciate the dark psychosexual undertones and it didn’t quite deliver the
white-knuckle terror promised by the fusion of the mysterious and doomy VHS
sleeve coupled with my hyperactive and adolescently perverse imagination. I think I was at an age that equated tension
and fear with the illicit exploitative thrills of the trashy horror and action
cinema I was forbidden from watching.
Perhaps that was precisely <i>because </i>I was forbidden from watching such
movies. In my early teen mind, Science Fiction in particular demanded spectacle
– and if it couldn’t deliver spectacle, then outrageous sleaze would
suffice. John Carpenter’s <i>The Thing</i> had
delivered spectacularly and I had expected much the same from <i>Alien</i>. Shamefully, I recall being more excited in
the potential suggested by the gaudy videotape art of sleazy <i>Alien </i>knock-offs like
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4POfjd6tKeI&feature=related" target="_blank"><i>Xtro</i></a> or <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vztl5-v7BSc" target="_blank"><i>Inseminoid</i></a>. Maybe I had been
desensitised: but I doubt this was the case, as just a glance of the grimy
battered cover of a pre-prohibition videotape of <i>The Texas Chainsaw Massacre</i>
had given me sleepless nights for weeks.</span></div>
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<tr style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The classic Alien from <i>Alien</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">A couple of years later, as I began to appreciate there was
more to cinema than simple B-movie shock value, I realised that <i>Alien</i> was a far
better movie than I was able to recognise at such an early age. The fact that <i>Alien </i>has established itself
comfortably as a genre landmark of both science fiction and horror, yet is
also such a unique beast in it’s own right, is testament to its its enduring
power. Incidentally, neither <i>Xtro</i> nor
<i>Inseminoid</i> maintained their imagined positions as unseen classics far beyond the
crawl of their opening credits – although, for the record, <i>Xtro</i> is better
and does have some demented charm.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i>Alien </i>is enjoyable as a harsh and dark burst of spook-house
horror but the many rich ideas and concepts buried gestating inside the
very simple primary tale are what truly give the wider universe its imaginative
fertility and longevity. The Alien
itself, designed by Swiss artist H.R. Giger, is a perfect killing machine right
from the grotesque moment of its birth. Its terrible efficiency makes the
unresolved mystery of its origins more compelling. Giger’s biomechanical set
designs, that mirror the carapace of the xenomorph, suggest the sense of a much bigger horror taking place on a grand
scale. The look and feel of his
nightmare surrealist landscapes is genuinely unsettling, all the moreso when
introduced into the worn-out blue-collar future world of The Nostromo’s crew of
weary space truckers. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMglwfr8VbXFIE9vol9UwqWOFUri4dSfzjfFFgbBxKNSDfoogekvVow2Yn4NMPYzbIgiil1ZVwM6Ypd9zqODrxh3L2jgnM9bYJeFjHYPs5nMfeNfOrXy9QympX6MX_OgWndPjt4B5DDfI/s1600/RipleyAlienSpacesuit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMglwfr8VbXFIE9vol9UwqWOFUri4dSfzjfFFgbBxKNSDfoogekvVow2Yn4NMPYzbIgiil1ZVwM6Ypd9zqODrxh3L2jgnM9bYJeFjHYPs5nMfeNfOrXy9QympX6MX_OgWndPjt4B5DDfI/s320/RipleyAlienSpacesuit.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Ellen Ripley (Sigourney Weaver) in <i>Alien</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The solid cast of adult character actors, including Tom Skerritt, Yaphet Kotto, Ian Holm, Harry Dean Stanton, Veronica Cartwright and Sigourney Weaver</span><span style="font-size: small;">, meant it was hard to know who - if anyone - would survive. Of course, it was Weaver, as Ellen Ripley, who would eventually emerge triumphant as lone survivor. According to the structure of the slasher movie, she would be considered the <i>Final Girl, </i>but Ripley was not a typical teenage final girl, she was a woman, and whilst her largely male colleagues were violated, penetrated or impregnated, Ripley eschews the traditional hollow victory of the <i>Final Girl</i>, neither sexually degraded nor stripped of her femininity in order to survive. This is quite an achievement, considering she spent the climax of <i>Alien</i> stripped to her underwear and menaced by what is essentially a psychotic dripping phallus. Weaver would go on to be the star of the next three movies and as firmly associated with the series as the titular xenomorph itself. Ellen Ripley didn't even emerge as a principle character until a third of the way through the movie, yet by the finale she had taken on an iconic status.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHPu9eCaifCdm60tH8bKLQ6P3zVez5yNFT9lOOFa4E626K_Gd0XH1DAZ1ip6MoIoZeWKpJCOVBdP4DaL54P2NeYavP6hi9AnV6VWHCqToH8YeU4bzgJX64Qt4HqhIO750Zf5d88fxLZjQ/s1600/RipleyNewtAliens.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHPu9eCaifCdm60tH8bKLQ6P3zVez5yNFT9lOOFa4E626K_Gd0XH1DAZ1ip6MoIoZeWKpJCOVBdP4DaL54P2NeYavP6hi9AnV6VWHCqToH8YeU4bzgJX64Qt4HqhIO750Zf5d88fxLZjQ/s320/RipleyNewtAliens.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Ripley gets tooled up in <i>Aliens </i>(1986)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">It’s no surprise that the franchise would come to be
typified by the work of auteur directors, keen to take part in a slimy
tenticular game of <a href="http://www.exquisitecorpse.com/definition/About.html" target="_blank"><i>exquisite corpse</i></a> with such rich material. The sequel, James Cameron’s <b>Aliens (1986)</b>, immediately
exceeded all expectations when we watched it for my fourteenth birthday
party. Whilst it was faithful to the
concept and character of <i>Alien</i>, it had evolved into a full-blooded action
movie. In the grim and gritty 70’s,
heroism in American cinema was served with a side order of self-loathing,
pessimism and bleak resignation. By the
80’s, the post-Watergate, post-Vietnam hangover was over and a new spirit of
jingoistic Reganomic bombast was its replacement. In the movies, might was right and so might
was mighty, outrageously so. I may plead
irony in retrospect, but I loved the epic ass-kicking cinema served by cartoon
musclemen such as Schwarzenegger, Stallone, Lundgren and Van Damme. Once again, the politics may have escaped me,
but the explosive and unashamed heroics of <i>Commando</i>, <i>Rambo</i> and their ilk were a
guaranteed good time. I suppose it was
natural that, when my youthful rebellion finally kicked into gear, I would
become such a born-again die-hard liberal and Guardian reading fickle
apologist. So it goes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Anyway, it was the eighties now – and this time it’s
WAR! Ripley has been rescued by her
employers, the distinctly shifty Weyland-Yutani corporation, only to find she
has been drifting in deep space for 57 years.
Her own daughter has since grown old and passed away. She’s naturally kind of traumatised. Nevertheless, a chance at redemption comes in
the unlikely form of Paul Reiser as a creepy representative of the company who
informs Ripley that the planet on which she first encountered the xenomorph has
since been colonised. It now seems that
all contact has been lost with the colony and so a team of hardened space
marines intend to return to LV426 in order to find out what is going on and, if
necessary, kick some slimy ass. Ripley,
as the only non-feline survivor of the earlier alien encounter, travels with
them. Initially she is there in an
advisory capacity but as things go badly wrong, she once again steps up to take
charge and save the day in an ass-kicking capacity.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Have you ever noticed the similarities between the James Cameron screenplays</span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;">for <i>Rambo: First Blood Part II</i> and <i>Aliens</i>? </span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">You might think that with all this talk of ass kicking
there was a danger that the franchise had lost its dark and doomladen
atmosphere, but whilst there is all manner of military-tech-pornography and
initial macho bravado from the marines, the DNA of Alien was too grim and
twisted to be fully subverted in such a way.
Instead, Cameron wisely uses these tropes to emphasise our vulnerability
and weakness against the ferocity of the aliens.
That’s aliens, <i>plural </i>– as there are hundreds of them now, thanks to the
heroic egg-laying efforts of the Alien Queen.
She is Cameron’s major new addition to the life cycle of the aliens and is an
incredible and frightening presence thanks to practical effects work from the
very talented Stan Winston.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">In characteristic fashion, James Cameron adds some </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">cannon to the Alien canon in the form of the Colonial</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Marines weapon of choice: the M41A Pulse Rifle</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Cameron also chooses to build on the suspicious motives of
Weyland-Yutani, picking up where <i>Alien</i> left off and further building up the
scheming corporate puppetmasters as the ‘human’ villains of the piece, caring
little for their colonists or employees and with an agenda to use the ‘alien
situation’ to their own advantage.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Finally, in a way, Cameron also re-engages the with the
gender politics of Ripley. No longer
willing to be a victim or a bystander, she is the only person in the team to
truly understand their predicament and effectively takes charge of the
mission. Along the way, she rescues a
young colonist girl who acts as a surrogate daughter. It is this fiercely protective maternal
motivation that results in Ripley’s final showdown with the Alien Queen – two
mothers fighting for their families. You
could argue that <a href="http://www.btchflcks.com/2011/10/ellen-ripley-feminist-film-icon-battles.html%20" target="_blank">female empowerment</a> might be more eloquently demonstrated than
through a climactic ass-kicking beatdown, but it’s powerful imagery and seems
appropriate in a series where reproduction itself is an act of violence and
gender roles are tangled and subverted.
Also, it was also the Eighties.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">This is probably the closest to a happy ending that the
series has for us – with the Queen defeated and Ripley and her adopted ersatz
family returning home. If
you think Ripley has suffered enough and deserves to settle down to a quiet and
peaceful life at home, you had best look away now, because there’s another storm coming.
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ySalMJdCGfQoO1iSUKKs0VbY0Ulj-qBxUK4KRsgIEpAq-VEHQ4JPfGzI5V3xq5Ol-DPVGsTtmgkixeV0FmJ_wYwcvuewbp-e6WHpamdmC0CIXkSxKqjy2OiDQN6pcefZMgYFBW2GRKw/s1600/alien-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0ySalMJdCGfQoO1iSUKKs0VbY0Ulj-qBxUK4KRsgIEpAq-VEHQ4JPfGzI5V3xq5Ol-DPVGsTtmgkixeV0FmJ_wYwcvuewbp-e6WHpamdmC0CIXkSxKqjy2OiDQN6pcefZMgYFBW2GRKw/s320/alien-3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Alien 3</i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> (1992): Not particularly a date movie</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">If we choose to view <i>Alien</i> and <i>Aliens</i> as reflections of the
neuroses of the respective decades from which they were spawned, then David Fincher’s<b> Alien 3 (1992)</b> could be seen as the bratty Generation X stepchild of the then-trilogy. It is grungy, intense and very angry at its
parents. An unwelcome stowaway, in the
form of an alien facehugger, causes the crash landing of Ripley’s escape pod on
an isolated prison planet, immediately killing her potential love interest and
adopted daughter. To make already dire
matters worse, the unwelcome stowaway has also stowed away an even more
unwelcome stowaway in the form of an embryonic Alien Queen inside Ripley.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">In the opening ten minutes of the bleakest entry to the
series, Ripley has lost everything she has fought so hard for. Nevertheless, Ripley isn’t willing to go the
<i>full Cobain</i> without a fight. Realising
there is another xenomorph loose on the planet, Ripley attempts to warn the
small community of inmates of the danger they are in but her pleas fall on
deaf ears. In fact, they seem more
concerned about the sudden appearance of a woman in their male-only
community. This concern is made more
acute by the perverse adherence to pseudo-religious beliefs from some inmates
and a deep and threatening misogyny from others. Before long, however, an Alien begins
munching it’s way through our brutal band of brothers and it’s yet again clear
that Ripley represents their only hope.
This time, there is no technology or futuristic weaponry to assist
them. The prisoners lead a largely
monastic life and so their struggle against the lone xenomorph is a bloody dirty
battle of wits.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">In a final twist, a <i>tooled up</i> Weyland-Yutani delegation
arrives to save the day – or at least to save the Alien Queen just ready to
hatch from Ripley. Finally realising
that she can’t risk the Alien falling into their untrustworthy hands, Ripley
throws herself into a molten pool, sacrificing herself to save all of humanity
– and flip the bird to her ex-employers at the same time. It's a much-maligned movie, that both begins and ends with a defiant "F*ck You!" to the audience and, as a result, it is the most alienating of the alienating of the Alien movies. It was also the first of the series that I was old enough to legitimately see at the cinema and so, fortunately, I was also responsive to the nihilism of the teen zeitgeist. Well...I had a checked shirt, at least.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Nevertheless, in retrospect it seems a downbeat but more-or-less
fitting conclusion to the series. It’s a
return to the sombre and dark territory of <i>Alien</i>, but incorporating some of the
additional mythology of <i>Aliens</i>. It’s a
reflective piece, with the quiet and intense atmosphere giving Ripley’s
character a chance to breathe, pause and reflect. The sequence leading to an unexpected love
interest with prison doctor Charles Dance is touchingly played – giving
Ripley a chance to show some of the vulnerability that the chaos and machismo of the
previous movies gave her little time for. Aside from it's attitude, there are other more serious structural problems with<i> Alien 3</i>. There are too many faceless convict characters, although a strong frontline includes the ever-reliable Pete Postlethwaite, Charles S Dutton and Brian Glover. Considering the Alien on the loose here was birthed from a cow - thus adopting some of the host species characteristics - it is disappointing that the opportunity was missed to have Glover terrorised by a hyrbid <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0064541/" target="_blank">Kestralien</a>. I would have enjoyed that.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The narrative gets a little confused towards
the end and parts of the movie feel truncated and awkward, which seems to be the result
of the notably troubled production. Fincher
had a famously bad time in the Directors Chair as he was seemingly trusted as a
stylistic voice by the studio, but not with the story – his fury at their
meddling in his attempt to forge a personal vision should be a lesson learned
for all producers who want an auteur for their big budget movie; you may get
art, you may get a crowdpleasing popcorn hit, but you can’t rely on both. Fincher often refers to Alien 3 only as <i>that
movie</i>, which is unfair as his distinctive voice is quite evident in the final
cut. The entirely unnecessary next
entry, however, is where things really start to go wrong.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_703ZEZvG3lamIY9HvOsz1YhghUVX-PXSCupC1wEF-auJ5GobUK0z98P8B2ALw4lyE_MzbO1GGTbk73WYs_-AIQ4xNmxGKcTiAnX3wwRL3zt8IKNlPVVBxxmgQC-xmGFNlsKmiCTsdHs/s1600/AlienResurrection.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_703ZEZvG3lamIY9HvOsz1YhghUVX-PXSCupC1wEF-auJ5GobUK0z98P8B2ALw4lyE_MzbO1GGTbk73WYs_-AIQ4xNmxGKcTiAnX3wwRL3zt8IKNlPVVBxxmgQC-xmGFNlsKmiCTsdHs/s320/AlienResurrection.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Alien Resurrection</i> (1997): The cloned Ripley 8 meets</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">her <i>newborn</i>: a humalien hybrid that rejects the Alien</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Queen and looks to Ripley as it's true genetic mother </span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">figure. It's all rather creepy.</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">In Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s <b>Alien Resurrection (1997)</b>, military
scientists have made a clone of Ripley from a trace of her Alien-corrupted DNA
in the hope of recreating the Alien Queen inside her for some presumably
nefarious military reason. Having successfully reproduced both Ripley and the
latent xenomorph, chaos inevitably ensures when a group of space mercenaries,
including Jeunet regulars Dominique Pinon and Ron Perlman, interfere and
release the aliens to take over the Space station before it reaches Earth. Winona Ryder is an android terrorist and
Ripley also ends up as the surrogate mother of a newborn humalien hybrid creature...or
something. The very fact that I can't
untangle a clear and coherent synopsis from memory demonstrates just how
muddled and confused this movie is.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">On paper, it must have seemed a great twisted idea. Jeunet had established a reputation as director of wildly imaginative surrealist masterpieces such as <i>Delicatessen</i> and <i>The City of Lost Children</i> – however, without his usual collaborators and in inheriting a project that had been awkwardly gestating for some time previously, little of Jeunet’s dark magic seemed to make it to the screen. There is some intriguing <i>Grand Guignol </i>here, particularly in the scene where Ripley 8 meets what is left of her preceding seven cloned sisters, yet overall it fails to reproduce the mystery or tension of <i>Alien</i> and the action sequences are too perfunctory and flat to invoke the excitement of <i>Aliens</i>. </span></div>
<span class="st"> </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwncsHnKrsVyJX4zs2lXElGzyl8rzQJ2pNtaXf5OqoNsk2lAYDKRmB8ti-TcCdbBw_UAODoN0OzUSVJHSPLdl-4YbBuwZMN__WJ2bIbn4K70pcsSyZ2oYCbwaz-RDSfGoPcOv9GDQ0Gjw/s1600/prometheus-big-head.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwncsHnKrsVyJX4zs2lXElGzyl8rzQJ2pNtaXf5OqoNsk2lAYDKRmB8ti-TcCdbBw_UAODoN0OzUSVJHSPLdl-4YbBuwZMN__WJ2bIbn4K70pcsSyZ2oYCbwaz-RDSfGoPcOv9GDQ0Gjw/s320/prometheus-big-head.jpg" width="258" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Prometheus</i> (2012): Installing a massive</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> sculpture of your massive face in your</span></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">massive spaceship is probably a tad</span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">narcissistic. </span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">And so we return right back the beginning again with
<b>Prometheus (2012)</b>. Set thirty years
prior to the events of <i>Alien</i>, archaeologist couple Elizabeth Shaw (Noomi
Rapace) and Charlie Holloway (Logan Marshall-Green) discover a star map shared
by several unconnected ancient cultures. Believing this may be a clue to the
origins of humanity, the Weyland-Yutani Corporation sponsor their passage on an
exploratory mission alongside the crew of the titular spacecraft Prometheus. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Upon arrival, the discovery of a strange exterrestrial
complex yields further hieroglyphic and holographic evidence of an absent and
mysterious alien race either long dead or dormant. Shaw christens these alien beings <i>Engineers</i>,
believing they support her creationist belief that all life on Earth was a
result of these cosmic beings.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Inevitably, it quickly becomes evident that there are hidden
agendas – both alien and human. The
Engineers turn out to be far from benign and all too late Shaw realizes that
what may have at first appeared to be an invitation could instead have been a
warning. This is a nice touch as it
mirrors the misinterpretation of the warning signal as a distress call that
first drew the crew of the Nostromo to their own alien doom.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">In exploring the role of the Engineers as its central
narrative, <i>Prometheus</i> picks up on perhaps on one of the most intriguing
mysteries of <i>Alien</i>: that of the dessicated “space jockey” discovered by the
Nostromo but quickly forgotten, not only by the embattled crew but in the
subsequent movies of the series.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGnbsXu_Sew8fYDfRmXYB6rky4Q6an77ySoQt_E0Y0kbhO2Cb7fXDxUscNWfaF0kFk_CGbYQVL-yDUihz-ARTYd1imvNBrHIxVVCrYZjfu0Zx0VSdgK6qt0n1P5g-5pZhVbNmdBadpP78/s1600/CreepyPrometheusEngineerGuy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGnbsXu_Sew8fYDfRmXYB6rky4Q6an77ySoQt_E0Y0kbhO2Cb7fXDxUscNWfaF0kFk_CGbYQVL-yDUihz-ARTYd1imvNBrHIxVVCrYZjfu0Zx0VSdgK6qt0n1P5g-5pZhVbNmdBadpP78/s1600/CreepyPrometheusEngineerGuy.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Prometheus (2012): An Engineer sans </span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.dadsdinner.com/Stuff/dohnuttersbox.jpg" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" target="_blank"><i>Doh-Nutters</i></a><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> inspired spacesuit</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">The Engineers themselves are an incredible CGI
creation. In the prologue, we witness
what appears to be one of these beings sacrificing itself to create life on a
distant planet that may or may not be our own.
It turns out that the elephantine remains we saw in Alien were actually
some kind of biomechanical spacesuit.
Beneath the suit, these large and imposing beings appear much closer to
human beings, yet bigger, ripe with swollen musculature, more primal and
powerful, almost an athletic parody of Classical Olympian Gods. With eloquent use of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uncanny_valley" target="_blank">uncanny valley</a>, they
are familiar to us and almost beautiful, yet repellent and utterly alien at the
same time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">While the sole remaining resident of the complex discovered
by the Prometheus team slumbers in stasis, the visitors work to understand the
meaning of what they have found and are troubled by a whole menagerie of small
creatures, seemingly birthed from the mysterious black goo of life. The same
gunk also manages to mutate one of the crew into something quite odd and messed
up. The snakelike scurrying beasties
have properties like acid blood that mirror those of the xenomorph but there doesn’t feel like any uniformity to the
transformational properties of this ooze. This jars awkwardly with the gloriously reconstructed Giger designed
backdrop and these additions feel overcomplicated and somewhat confused.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjefepYTfpyjKQ68Mxwb8HF-04211EkMt_gbtP2DC69VYrNv2tkLd6D_e-KMrTqeNmZd9o8L35K9lntl6JjnhfO-jmjqbJ81vx4Zh19Nl3SDu0WFp101EqqaRAPQQCL0AeqTNZTI_c4zrA/s1600/space-jockey-alien.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjefepYTfpyjKQ68Mxwb8HF-04211EkMt_gbtP2DC69VYrNv2tkLd6D_e-KMrTqeNmZd9o8L35K9lntl6JjnhfO-jmjqbJ81vx4Zh19Nl3SDu0WFp101EqqaRAPQQCL0AeqTNZTI_c4zrA/s320/space-jockey-alien.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Engineer from <i>Prometheus</i> formerly</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">known as The Space Jockey from <i>Alien</i> </span> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">This is the problem of the film as a whole: <i>Prometheus</i> works
best with the BIG things but suffers when it comes to the small stuff. There is epic scope and scale, with some truly stunning world building, but the detail in the more intimate moments - from the vicious alien flora or fauna to the subtleties of minor characterisation - feels lazy and ill-defined.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The relatively calm reaction of the crew to their
unimaginably important discovery is an example of how this weakness damages the
movie. The haste of the narrative to disclose its epic creationist mythology leaves us
little time to share the journey or absorb the implications alongside the characters. Perhaps our future
descendents are just a little more ambivalent about everything – but even the swiftness that our intrepid away team, in an alien and potentially hostile environment, immediately abandon the safety of
their breathing apparatus the very moment it's discovered the air could be breathable detracts from the big ideas of the movie. All but
the principle cast feel very loosely sketched, to the point that toward the end
of the movie I had a great deal of trouble telling the secondary crew
apart. A special mention should go to one of the least convincing members of the cinematic scientific community since Keanu Reeves discovered the secret to successfully using <i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">sonoluminescense to create stable bubble fusion</span></i></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i> </i>in </span><i style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Chain Reaction</i><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">: the </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>Angry Geologist </i>played Sean Harris</span>. At least his character motivation is clear: he "<span class="st" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i>f*cking loves rocks</i>!"</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiIR-2fs51HU1gRGSfWLwrZ76ECsolvkHs4g8_CObIh3kZH21rbY46buCus_K3XAUq0GtYFMJmUaBL2ht57ChmdRMKQ8TjouWtNENrStrRTKCn3a4Zi92q9a2DVgkR74g9Mq1b1wascKE/s1600/Noomi.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiIR-2fs51HU1gRGSfWLwrZ76ECsolvkHs4g8_CObIh3kZH21rbY46buCus_K3XAUq0GtYFMJmUaBL2ht57ChmdRMKQ8TjouWtNENrStrRTKCn3a4Zi92q9a2DVgkR74g9Mq1b1wascKE/s320/Noomi.png" width="232" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Definately NOT loving the alien:</span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Noomi Rapace in <i>Prometheus</i></span></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Where characters do manage to become three dimensional, it
is largely due to the efforts of the individual actors to overcome the underwritten script. Noomi Rapace is
clearly a Ripley analog, which is a shame as she gamefully tackles one
degradation after another but never feels like she is given the chance to make
the role her own. Charlize Theron does
her best to add a hint of vulnerability to a rather flat role and Idris Elba
similarly brings a likeable charisma to the jaded captain of the doomed
spacecraft. It is telling that the
standout performance is from Michael Fassbender as David, the distant and
morally ambiguous android member of the crew.
Admittedly, he is not human and so does not have a clunkily scripted
attempt at personality to deal with – but what he achieves in a nuanced and subtle physical performance practically dominates the feature. Early on in the story, in an attempt to
approximate a human identity, he studies Peter O’Tooles performance in <i>Lawrence
of Arabia </i>for inspiration. He
subsequently channels O’Toole for the remainder of the movie, making us
question what is beneath the façade of his every action and intention. Scott cited the David Lean's muscular epic
as the inspiration for <i>Prometheus</i> and the success of Fassbender here makes me
wonder whether he should have encouraged writer Damon Lindelof to follow suit.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBQ5tw8GTLUvLKzK5xpHjFvXbIEl96IS5MXOPXhjdoMkWV2QNctTm8QS_aPXcTJCGjNcRURWCead_yl5Xb9c0ETFb_0rr0oovyrANgfxVjJ1I-gnKUlFiw1c4NEBrvW7-ZbrsW-WGw-04/s1600/FassbenderPrometheus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBQ5tw8GTLUvLKzK5xpHjFvXbIEl96IS5MXOPXhjdoMkWV2QNctTm8QS_aPXcTJCGjNcRURWCead_yl5Xb9c0ETFb_0rr0oovyrANgfxVjJ1I-gnKUlFiw1c4NEBrvW7-ZbrsW-WGw-04/s320/FassbenderPrometheus.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">He's got the whole world in his hands:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Michael Fassbender in <i>Prometheus </i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">The undercooked script is all the more infuriating as the
broader story and mood of <i>Prometheus</i> does effectively, for me at least, feel
very much like it’s set in the same universe as the original trilogy. This may be placed in stark contrast when
compared with Alien Resurrection, which does not. Of course, all the movies contain an element
of sequential narrative and shared design cues – not least in the xenomorph
itself – but the tone, feel and attitude of the wider universe established in
<i>Alien</i> truly only feels wrong in part four.
The crew of the Nostromo from <i>Alien</i>, Hicks from <i>Aliens</i> or even Brian Glover from <i>Alien 3</i> could make an appearance in <i>Prometheus </i>and it would feel quite
natural. In contrast, the only way that some of the eccentric pantomime
characters of <i>Alien Resurrection</i> could make an explicable cameo in any one of
the other films would be if they’d stepped in briefly from some bizzaro mirror world.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Some people also had a problem with the gleaming
new design of the technology used by the intrepid travellers of <i>Prometheus</i> as
they feel it’s inconsistent with the dirty and run down ‘used future’ of the
preceding films. It’s not something that
bothers me. Prometheus, after all, is a prequel, set in 2089. The doomed crew of the Nostromo would not
encounter their xenomorph until three decades later in 2122 – not to mention
that by the end of the series a full 291 years have passed. That’s long enough for any kit and associated
caboodle to be rendered irreparably <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_military_slang_terms" target="_blank">FUBAR</a>.
The only contradiction in technology I might question is whether Lance
Henriksen is <i>really </i>an upgrade of Michael Fassbender?</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNWfOMcefV40h3Sxsag7XSKJIHGga2d82Cf37e38qff-wzTxFbfzF87QgVf4i4PnN8-iTJ7kHYytryoR6lgQrXvgalTOi9tucNbYhxoUTmCB4dJWklpAhGkEEtPCBlMJqN_RdzdB3Z75Y/s1600/xenomorph.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNWfOMcefV40h3Sxsag7XSKJIHGga2d82Cf37e38qff-wzTxFbfzF87QgVf4i4PnN8-iTJ7kHYytryoR6lgQrXvgalTOi9tucNbYhxoUTmCB4dJWklpAhGkEEtPCBlMJqN_RdzdB3Z75Y/s320/xenomorph.jpg" width="246" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Xenomorph we all know and love</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">Even though <i>Prometheus </i>takes a very different approach to
<i>Alien</i>, it clearly shares inspiration and antecedents: most notably in it’s
return to writer HP Lovecraft for the source of its cosmic horror.<i> Alien</i> scribe Dan O’Bannon openly acknowledged Lovecraft’s influence on the original movie. In <i>Alien,</i> Ian Holm's character Ash
famously states that the alien is <i>"unclouded by conscience, remorse, or delusions of
morality...a perfect organism...whose structural perfection is matched only by its hostility."</i> This is a truly Lovecraftian notion: the alien
isn’t evil in the conceivable sense of <i>human </i>morality. Rather it is a force of dark nature, beyond our
understanding. <i>Prometheus </i>takes us further into territory that the late
O’Bannon, a longtime Lovecraft enthusiast, had long hoped to realise, sharing
much of it’s <i>big idea </i>with Lovercraft’s<i> </i>classic tale<i> At The Mountains of Madness</i>. This story recounts the adventures of a
scientific expedition who discover the remnants of a strange and ancient alien race that may have been responsible
for creating humanity as well as a race of monsters who appear to have the terrifying power to destroy us all. Sound familiar?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">With this rich heritage mind, it’s almost a shame that <i>Prometheus</i> still
feels the need to make so many more additional and slightly clunky nods to the
canon. This is most troublesome in the
closing 20 minutes in which there seems to be a rush to introduce a version
of xenomorph we all know and love. It turns out that the xenomorph is a bioweapon, created by the Engineers to wipe out the more disappointing of their planetary creations - but we only have the word of Captain Idris Elba to account for this and he doesn't have time to explain the workings behind this sudden epiphany before he crashes the Prometheus into the departing Engineers vessel. Never mind, the crew seemed to trust him implicitly: no-one questioned where he got Stephen Stills squeezebox from either. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">This late-stage attempt to definitively assimilate the Alien legacy felt too sudden and incongruous. It
just wasn’t needed and there was already enough connecting tissue between
the prequel and the series that it would have been more convincing
to leave some of these questions unanswered and mysterious. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Of course, <i>Prometheus </i>has some new mysteries of its own: What does the black goo actually do? Why
cast a 44-year-old Guy Pierce as the elderly stowaway Charles Weyland only to
spend his entire short appearance in not-particularly-convincing
prosthetics? Why go to all the trouble
of setting up the story to appear to take place on the planet from <i>Alien</i>, but
then throw a rug from under us by stating this is actually a <i>different
</i>planet? </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg67qycxbly5Wf8e76YFWksCl-7awuOKQGBiRrgDVePeU216nKTp2KkPMn9GV-HpJI1Zx-aOLrBqus7Lr3DRvtQdBHh9X0p62SU2zB4nQKiK9YzoFWpjrs5Eaz0PwQJ9IEvo9_lh7jYbs/s1600/alien+spacecraft+prometheus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="187" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg67qycxbly5Wf8e76YFWksCl-7awuOKQGBiRrgDVePeU216nKTp2KkPMn9GV-HpJI1Zx-aOLrBqus7Lr3DRvtQdBHh9X0p62SU2zB4nQKiK9YzoFWpjrs5Eaz0PwQJ9IEvo9_lh7jYbs/s400/alien+spacecraft+prometheus.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">HR Giger's iconic "horseshoe" spacecraft has travelled further than</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">any other vessel through the series despite only spending a brief</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">ten minutes in the air at the climax of <i>Prometheus</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Perhaps these loose threads are calculated to set up
a second movie. Scott has already begun
to talk up the possibilities of a sequel but <i>Prometheus</i> leaves questions I find simply
confusing rather than compelling. With
apologies to my friend <a href="https://twitter.com/tedaitch" target="_blank">Ted</a>: I’m not really all that interested in a cosmic
re-imagining of <i>Cast Away</i> with Rapace as Tom Hanks and Fassbender as Wilson.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Perhaps what disappointed me most about <i>Prometheus</i> is a more
mature reflection of the same teenage reservations I’d had following the playground
hype of <i>Alien</i>. Prometheus arrived with a
sense of genuine mystery: I’d learned by now not to build my expectations
around what had gone before – but instead I was secretly hoping for an epic
game-changer, a mind twisting spin on the secrets of the saga. Instead, it seemed that Ridley had exactly
the same uncertainties as to what form this new chapter of the canon would take
as I did. Its an interesting movie and I
enjoyed it, but I can’t help but feel it’s not going to inspire the same
obsession, the same teenage birthday screening excitement and the same long
term cultural impact on our current age restricted audience as its antecedents
did on my generation...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">All the same, who am I to judge? I've met younger people who have some affection for Jar Jar Binks...but that's another story, of another retroactive prequel, in another galaxy, far away...</span></div>
</div>matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-54193418110897876072012-05-31T14:56:00.002-07:002012-05-31T15:50:40.925-07:00British Summer Time<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This is the Press Release text I wrote for <i>BST (British Summer Time)</i>, an upcoming group exhibition at <a href="http://www.diemarnoblephotography.com/" target="_blank">Diemar/Noble Photography</a> featuring works by Lisa Creagh, Marcus Doyle, Mischa Haller, Nikolai Ishchuk, George Rodger, Wolf Suschitzky, Chris Steele-Perkins and Manuel Vazquez.</span></span></b></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPaEXeg5MiICrlNuTGPukei3YPx-vt6lMNr2sE0UOWs1sx2sz8iAaIYvvpJtEs9_dJIQBMPR3FUmnRE2UL6BwJ_r4Tf-1IRDzs8b1zQlm6H2JvCplQ2UuVJ0Ojk3l4NRdjFabsHMg6iNA/s1600/ChrisSteelePerkinsSeaside.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPaEXeg5MiICrlNuTGPukei3YPx-vt6lMNr2sE0UOWs1sx2sz8iAaIYvvpJtEs9_dJIQBMPR3FUmnRE2UL6BwJ_r4Tf-1IRDzs8b1zQlm6H2JvCplQ2UuVJ0Ojk3l4NRdjFabsHMg6iNA/s400/ChrisSteelePerkinsSeaside.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Chris Steele-Perkins, G.B. ENGLAND. Blackpool, 1982. Courtesy of Magnum Photos.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It is a testament to the unpredictability of the <i>British Summer Time</i> that it is less a statement of meteorological and seasonal fact, more an evocation of the quirky, complex and gloriously contradictory character of our little island. <i> British Summer Time </i>is both a climate and a state of mind.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Lisa Creagh’s floral imagery reminds us that summer is the season that the world opens out in its vibrant, extrovert glory and all but the most introverted among us have little choice but to follow the flora and blossom and bloom with colour; even if those colours are a painful shade of sunburned pinks on pale white haunches. The journalist Russell Baker wrote of the power of summer to make us <i>suffer and like it</i> – a very British sentiment captured by the defiant invasion of the seaside by territorial holidaymakers grudgingly acquiescing to the lure of the season in the work of Chris Steele-Perkins.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Mischa Haller also captures this peculiarly serious and hard-working approach to our leisure time in his portraits of dedicated swimmers and the determined queue of entrants for the Big Brother television show. A British summer is more transient than most so perhaps the brief interlude of sunshine is a bittersweet reminder to seize the day while we can.</span></span></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Empowered by temperate respite we consider it almost a National duty to defy the dampening of our spirits. This is demonstrated in Wolf Suschitzky’s girl jumping over a puddle, reminiscent of Henri Cartier-Bresson’s <i>Place de L'Europ, Gare Saint Lazaree</i>. Recast to an altogether darker and wetter London but retaining no less of the playful joy, Suschitzky fortunately captured his jumper by chance whilst focusing on the puddles as the rain dropped circles on their surface. Alongside this work, Magnum founder George Rodgers cheerful photographs of life in London during the wartime bombardment of The Blitz are even more compelling evidence of our defiance to eschew distraction and carry on regardless.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">ndeed, the lazy leisure of summer itself is viewed by some Britons as a whimsical distraction and perhaps Manuel Vasquez’ workstation at the BBC World Service is the closest many will come to basking in the glow of sunnier climes.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Summer invites celebration and in this summer of Olympic hosting and Royal Jubilee, we are aware that our rites and rituals are on global display. Amongst the bunting and ceremony planned for these very British festivities, Nikolai Ishchuck finds the most compelling imagery of our relationship with our Monarch in his banknote portrait. Both banal and reverent at the same time: it is a most fittingly contradictory tribute. </span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFqz-8jje9lqG6jPiwQ6PCehNzWhbmUEUkeQbKegvzIsq1gRP_Tzp-I6EvB9lsOdz2t_QIDH7z3IcyCCBXH7RvmtLz3jfcUZBFm7Gps5iKwmUr2Ju7CtcDpwxXGm0r1nbodlLb8G1eI7k/s1600/MarcusDoyleSouthendPier.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFqz-8jje9lqG6jPiwQ6PCehNzWhbmUEUkeQbKegvzIsq1gRP_Tzp-I6EvB9lsOdz2t_QIDH7z3IcyCCBXH7RvmtLz3jfcUZBFm7Gps5iKwmUr2Ju7CtcDpwxXGm0r1nbodlLb8G1eI7k/s320/MarcusDoyleSouthendPier.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Marcus Doyle, Southend, 2009.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Finally, it is the elegiac beauty of Marcus Doyle’s long exposure seascape at Southend that shows us how perfectly the dark gloaming and the warm caress of sunshine can co-exist in one place, in one moment, in one season. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This is the very essence of British Summer Time.</span></span><br />
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></b></div>
<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">BST (British Summer Time) will be exhibited at Diemar/Noble Photography, 66/67 Wells Street, London W1T 3PY from 7 June - 11 August 2012. For further information about the exhibition or this great gallery you should visit their website at </span></span></b><a href="http://www.diemarnoble.com/"><b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">www.diemarnoble.com</span></span></b></a></div>
</div>matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-60449453836415304002012-05-12T13:42:00.003-07:002012-05-15T04:39:55.416-07:00A Brief History of Rhyme: The Place of Space in Popular Music<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"I think a future flight should include a poet, a priest and a philosopher . . . we might get a much better idea of what we saw." </span></span> </i><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">- Michael Collins, Astronaut, Apollo 11 </span></i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">From our earliest beginnings, Space has been a constant and incalculable influence on the development of humankind. Its vast unreachable beauty has seduced philosophers and theologians to establish the fundamental belief systems of our world. The challenge of cosmic unknowability has inspired scientists to achieve technological developments of great audacity and hubris. It has also had big impact on popular music of the last fifty years.</span></span></b></div>
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<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The original Satellite of Love:<br />
The Tornados <i>Telstar</i> (1962)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The birth of rock and roll coincided with our first faltering steps into Space and so it is little surprise that the airwaves of the late fifties were cluttered with cosmic boogie. The post-war baby boomers of the fifties embraced the modern and looked to the future, keen to hip-shake away the austerity of the past. In 1957, as Sputnik became the first artificial satellite to orbit the Earth, the airwaves below were cluttered with such songs as Skip Stanley’s <i>Satellite Baby</i>, Jackie Lowell’s <i>Rocket Trip</i> or Sonny Sheather’s <i>Orbit With Me</i>. One of the biggest hits of this era was <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DiPT-seJ9uc" target="_blank"><i>Telstar</i></a> by The Tornados, an instrumental that reached the US Number One spot in 1962 and was rather unromantically named after one of the first communication satellites. </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Space travel represented an aspiration for a better world and the Space Race imagery of this new technology would come to define a generation. Between 1961 - when cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin undertook the first human spaceflight – and 1969 - when Neil Armstrong became the first man on the moon - Space exploration would remain a pop music preoccupation. However, for the hippy generation unlike the unreconstructed rock and rollers before them, it was no longer the technology of the establishment that seduced them. </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">We can see this conceptual shift in the cheery country rock of The Byrd’s <i><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-KZMg-fvn-s" target="_blank">Mr Spaceman</a> </i>(1966). Here, frontman Roger McGuinn asks not that humankind reaches out to conquer Space, but instead begs that some alien being comes to invite us to the stars and release us from the boredom of our little world. Presumably, McGuinn immediately regretted this plea to <i>“take them away”</i> as his band members would thereafter be abducted by west coast supergroups on a frustratingly regular basis. </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It’s no coincidence that a cosmic theme would dominate an era of astral projection and chemical experimentation. For a youth who longed to be free from the ridged conventions of oppressive conservative society, Space was the ultimate trip, man. It was a place to find freedom and transcendence. </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimEACUh3-2GNa2l75k0NP5BmrPiN1v1Z6QuiGU5sll6OkJCX4oZ02bXbqI5MqmNhnlNjc-VJmM8TAl4d0KxCg_Rm-1JkdmeT5hyYNAIR9yayI66syjyl2fPz-oa8s-4wGEz4GmyZT0qbg/s1600/220px-Dark_Side_of_the_Moon.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimEACUh3-2GNa2l75k0NP5BmrPiN1v1Z6QuiGU5sll6OkJCX4oZ02bXbqI5MqmNhnlNjc-VJmM8TAl4d0KxCg_Rm-1JkdmeT5hyYNAIR9yayI66syjyl2fPz-oa8s-4wGEz4GmyZT0qbg/s1600/220px-Dark_Side_of_the_Moon.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pink Floyd's <i>Dark Side of The Moon</i> (1973):<br />
the soundtrack to countless teenage<br />
stoner daydreams.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The Grateful Dead’s epic <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZvRKsyAF-h8" target="_blank"><i>Dark Star</i></a> (1968) was literally a psychedelic space capsule designed to carry the listeners out to the farthest reaches of cosmic consciousness, without the necessity of multimillion dollar technology, whilst Deep Purple took us on an altogether more raucous and booze fuelled musical tour of the solar system in <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-w5sE82dKV0" target="_blank"><i>Space Trucking</i></a> (1971). Pink Floyd’s <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XtrVrY1_Qq8" target="_blank"><i>Interstellar Overdrive</i></a> (1966) - complete with a musical nod to the Ron Grainer’s <i>Doctor Who </i>theme – would be a practice launch for their later progressive rock journey to <i>The Dark Side of The Moon</i> (1973). </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><br style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But even if the tie-dyed daydreams of the hippies and rockers were the privileged affectations of a predominantly white middle class, the promise of freedom delivered from beyond the stars still proved a universal and multicultural attraction. </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><br style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">In the <i>Beyonder</i> cycle, prototype hip hop collective The Last Poets embraced the ‘otherness’ of African American culture by reflecting on a fictional history of a black diaspora literally descended from an powerful alien race. Perhaps this was the only way to explain the terrible inequalities and indignities of segregation and - in this narrative - there was also the promise of cosmic emancipation at some point in the near future. </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><br style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Jazz bandleader Sun Ra and funk icon George Clinton both took this concept of 'Afrofuturism' even further. </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><br style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Sun Ra claimed that he was of the "Angel Race" and was not from Earth, but Saturn. He developed a complex persona using cosmic philosophies and lyrical poetry, leading his "Arkestra" on a free jazz journey that pioneered the electronica and the space rock genres. </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><br style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBXR40uWGAFXV-yMVTPOK4A9F_EBOwrmDG52dx3P_gVdSGnGPeeP-0oF6pS0IgzVKDwb5sfP7MzPEXPUlrpAGp1TfvSlsG6GoewVkf0K2c_cIoNljlZYfuwdFN6qGvO0tGYXc2gbISoxw/s1600/pfunk_mothership.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBXR40uWGAFXV-yMVTPOK4A9F_EBOwrmDG52dx3P_gVdSGnGPeeP-0oF6pS0IgzVKDwb5sfP7MzPEXPUlrpAGp1TfvSlsG6GoewVkf0K2c_cIoNljlZYfuwdFN6qGvO0tGYXc2gbISoxw/s320/pfunk_mothership.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Pass the peace: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">George Clinton arrives on the Mothership.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">George Clinton also adopted an outrageous extra-terrestrial persona, who arrived on Earth and onstage in The P Funk Mothership, accompanied by his agents of <i>Supergroovalisticprosifunkstication</i>. An integral part of the P Funk mythology, the Mothership existed both conceptually as a fictional vehicle of funk deliverance and as a physical prop central to P Funk concerts. Powered by unknown means, presumably The Funk and simple stagecraft, the Mothership appeared over the Planet Earth many times during the second half of the Twentieth century and was even seen to physically land at a number of live music venues in the United States during the 1970s in order to disgorge its Funk to the people. </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><br style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Perhaps The Arkestra and the P Funk Mothership weren’t exactly what easy listening and uneasy siblings The Carpenters yearned for in their rather odd cover of Klaatuu's <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4yTkrdsg4Qo&feature=related" target="_blank"><i>Calling Occupants of Interplanetary Craft</i></a> (1977), but at least they too tried to reach out to the zeitgeist. </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><br style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">During the 1970’s, the counterculture and the Space industry both faced a dramatic comedown. Each had searched furiously for something greater beyond the confines of our little world and had discovered little more than a vast, empty nothingness. Encapsulating this mood, jazz poet Gil Scott Heron was more concerned with down to earth matters and saw the Space Race as an unnecessary technological distraction in times of great social and racial inequality. After all, how relevant was the arrival of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PtBy_ppG4hY" target="_blank"><i>Whitey on the Moon</i></a> (1971) when <i>“the man just upped your rent again”</i>, <i>“the price of food is going up”</i> and you <i>“can’t pay no doctor bill”</i>. Here, Heron angrily vocalised the ambivalence of deprived, impoverished and segregated communities still here on earth to the fabulously expensive and ultimately futile endeavours of the entitled establishment. Even Elton John’s hit single <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DiPT-seJ9uc" target="_blank"><i>Rocket Man</i></a> (1971) reflected the bittersweet notion of astronauts no longer being perceived as heroes, but in fact as an "everyday occupation".</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
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<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loving the Alien:<br />
David Bowie in Nicolas Roeg's<br />
<i>The Man Who Fell to Earth</i> (1976)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Nevertheless, whilst increasing scepticism that our utopian future might be written in the stars dampened enthusiasm for the psychedelic excesses of the cosmic, Space still proved a compelling canvas upon which to project the rhythmic, melodic poetry of our teenage symphonies to lust and longing. Proof that more alienating times only serve to increase the allure of the alien can be found in the career of David Bowie. Bowie practically pioneered the persona of the pop star as alienated alien - quite literally in his eponymous role as <i>The Man Who Fell to Earth</i> (Nicolas Roeg, 1976). <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g8f_XCH3zmM" target="_blank">Bowie’s Space</a> is a surreal and strange place of dreams and malleable meanings. <i> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cYMCLz5PQVw&ob=av2n" target="_blank">Space Oddity</a></i> (1969) may reflect either the plight of the Apollo 8 astronauts or simply Bowies own drug use and desire to let go of the world. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v--IqqusnNQ&ob=av2n" target="_blank"><i>Life on Mars</i></a> (1971) is like a love song as painted by Salvador Dalí. The infinite possibilities of Space offered a context for Bowies abstract cut-up lyrics and invested them with an anthemic believability that would have been quite impossible if tethered to the gravity of our everyday lives on Planet Earth. </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><br style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><br style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;" /><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">At it’s heart, pop music promises escapism and the greatest escape of all will always be into the stars – whether literally or figuratively. Sci-fi Hi-Fi is the embodiment of aspiration, whether lofty or - in the case o</span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">f Mötley Crüe's longing for a <i>"lady with a body from outer space"</i> or A</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">sh's whimsical <i>Girl from Mars</i> (1995) - lustful. It’s no surprise that during the Acid House explosion of the late 1980s Space again became a preoccupation of the ravers of the self-styled <i>Second Summer of Love</i>. In terms of intergalactic obsessions there were many parallels with the <i>First</i>. Psychedelic electronica outfit The Orb made many ambient musical journeys into Space, most notably on <i>U.F.Orb</i> (1992), a concept album of bizarre soundscapes documenting the bands fascination with alien life. One of the defining anthems of this period would be The Prodigy’s <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DORZpLaw_YI&feature=fvst" target="_blank"><i>Out of Space</i></a> (1992), which samples from the Max Romeo’s classic reggae track, <i><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EjGb56hX9WE" target="_blank">I Chase the Devil</a> </i>(1976). Romeo's lyrical cry - <i>“I’m gone send into Outer Space, to find another race”</i> - was originally a call to reject the Devil and banish him to a distant galaxy, but in the hands of Ecstasy kids it became the chant of another jilted generation once again reclaiming their birthright to escape to the stars. </span></span></div>
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<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pop star astronauts from likely the most intolerable Space mission in NASA's history: <br />
(Clockwise from top left) Lil' Wayne, Moby, Lily Allen and Christina Aguilera.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There is still no shortage of galactic longing. Since Bowies defining first appearance it has become a regular occurring trope for the distinctively unusual, idiosyncratic or just plain kooky pop performer to present themselves as something quite alien. Kate Bush, Tricky, Bjork and Lady Gaga have all flirted with this at some point in their careers. It was even recently reported that Beyonce and Jay-Z were in talks with commercial spaceflight provider Virgin Galactic to shoot the first music video in Space. </span></span> <br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">As Oscar Wilde observed, whilst we are all in the gutter, some of us will always be looking at the stars. In fact, in more austere times, those who look to the stars appear even more glorious and alien. </span></span> <br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">What the music of these eras share is optimism, sometimes for what we have achieved up to now and sometimes for what we could achieve in the future. On reflection, Space seems most often associated with hope and, in these challenging and distinctly down-to-earth times, perhaps we could all do with a little more cosmic in our boogie and sputnik in our bowl.</span></span> </div>matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-25325375477280576482012-02-19T07:33:00.000-08:002012-02-20T14:00:09.846-08:00The Cinema Isle: A UK Movie Map<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Inspired by the Guardian online <a href="http://yfrog.com/nzy64efj" target="_blank">map of the US in movies</a> I thought it would be fun to attempt a </span></b><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;"><b>version for the UK. Despite my very best typographical attempts to channel the spirit of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saul_Bass" target="_blank">Saul Bass</a>, it's not as pretty as the American version and neither as comprehensive or accurate for that matter. Nevertheless, for your consideration, here it is:</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: small;">It was an interesting exercise as some regions proved quite tricky to represent whilst others were spoiled for choice - predictably London is so overpopulated, it could likely warrant a map in itself. I also had to take a couple of minor geographical liberties, so please accept my apologies if you happen to live somewhere I've misrepresented - I don't think I have much of a future in cartography. <a href="http://web.me.com/matbarnett/The_Matthew_Barnett_Website/Making_Stuff_Happen_mostly_files/UKmoviemapv2.jpg" target="_blank">Click here to download a high-res version</a>.</span></div>matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-72017546818774185272012-02-13T15:04:00.000-08:002012-02-14T06:59:06.210-08:00Möbius Stripped Bare: Some Thoughts on Loops and Repetition<style>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Cecilia Bonilla’s video art installation <a href="http://www.ceciliabonilla.com/IN%20AN%20INSTANT/in%20an%20instant.html%20" target="_blank"><i>In An Instant All Will Vanish</i></a> is a looped film of a gymnast preparing to deliver her floor routine. The seamlessly replayed clip denies us the resolution of her actual performance, stretching a brief moment of anticipation into an eternity and inviting us into the private inner world of the lone athlete.</b></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqIjRGfBvAdU4U27Y0VbloAP_obX5z7YRKEqx7rKqmamiOrmTWwpAqNmtjNohiQzfASaV32LtcUo4WhJCM0vEDdb9hi_7i1gyvD-ULgjDxRJn05ZU5_TskHi22hAhI0_uF8q9jhbuwajg/s1600/In+an+instant+all+will+vanish%28short%29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqIjRGfBvAdU4U27Y0VbloAP_obX5z7YRKEqx7rKqmamiOrmTWwpAqNmtjNohiQzfASaV32LtcUo4WhJCM0vEDdb9hi_7i1gyvD-ULgjDxRJn05ZU5_TskHi22hAhI0_uF8q9jhbuwajg/s400/In+an+instant+all+will+vanish%28short%29.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">In An Instant All Will Vanish</span></i>
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<div class="style74">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">2011, single chanel DVD, continuous loop, soundtrack<br />(Cecilia Bonilla with Matt Lewis, commissioned by Haringey Arts Council) </span>
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<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Exhibited as part of <a href="http://interalia.weebly.com/exhibition.html" target="_blank"><i>Fabricate</i></a>, Inter Alia's current exhibition at The Parlour Gallery, this i<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">nstallation is intriguingly curated into the otherwise static company of photography and printed works. As an experiential piece, it is quite compelling and left me reflecting on the psychology of loops and repeated patterns.</span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Upon viewing a moving image, our first instinct is to interpret narrative and continuity. In Bonilla’s piece, we feel the sense of rising tension as we wait for something to happen, but it never does. The moving image implies a passage of time and so a carefully looped video can almost create an alternate timeline for the viewer, alternately extracting and abstracting meaning like a repeated word word word word word word word word word word word word.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEBfiDsamYPZ_f8ezV4vA_QGLdzcCBBHcy4puf1GtIjgsyPLkVHrV5CN404Cb9lKdhiodtHkqwBRXdhHaJxYmdJo_7441DHpCYwaz12xbB97wm_rDNYULQKR8mQjAjXjIbp2vp2h_MbS0/s1600/Scooby-and-Shaggy-halloween-251158_1024_768.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEBfiDsamYPZ_f8ezV4vA_QGLdzcCBBHcy4puf1GtIjgsyPLkVHrV5CN404Cb9lKdhiodtHkqwBRXdhHaJxYmdJo_7441DHpCYwaz12xbB97wm_rDNYULQKR8mQjAjXjIbp2vp2h_MbS0/s200/Scooby-and-Shaggy-halloween-251158_1024_768.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Scooby and Shaggy run out of the</span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> "repeat pan" and into the fire!</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Yet despite the infinite promise of the endlessly recycled vignette, this hypnotic effect is temporary. As we begin to notice and preempt the repeated shrugs and small movements of Banilla’s subject, the spell is broken. We interpret the illusory passage of time only until the brain has enough information to recognise the loop as ultimately inanimate as a still image. Like the "repeat pan" trick of an old Hanna-Barbera cartoon, once we've seen a terrified Scooby and Shaggy fleeing past the same background door, window and potted plant for the fifth time, we realise they aren't actually going anywhere at all.</span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikeSKiZaJzvEuw9j6U1al-Gf6TKQXPp0JylqVyOhSZRKD2-YAXDz2nsSnvdpmJJzUDpdmWaLwxgPyIqyFME5bKOXczPEo5JIWnl_oc6EYgmMs_n4L1QT5Zip346bL9rgfvHv2F2Yax_YE/s1600/UncannyValleyRepliee_Q2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikeSKiZaJzvEuw9j6U1al-Gf6TKQXPp0JylqVyOhSZRKD2-YAXDz2nsSnvdpmJJzUDpdmWaLwxgPyIqyFME5bKOXczPEo5JIWnl_oc6EYgmMs_n4L1QT5Zip346bL9rgfvHv2F2Yax_YE/s400/UncannyValleyRepliee_Q2.jpg" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Into the uncanny valley of the dolls with</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">the <i>Nedo Repliee Q2</i> robot hostess</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Once we recognise an image as constant and unchanging, we immediately lose the temporal dimension. It was common practice in cheaply produced television shows of the 60’s and 70’s to use still images in place of filmed action – often in cutaway scenes to establish location or draw attention to an object or plot macguffin. Even though these are typically scenes that would demonstrate no activity even if captured on film - such as a close of up an impending murder weapon for a <i>Columbo</i> antagonist or the gates of the Southfork ranch in <i>Dallas</i> – the use of such still images seems extremely jarring. The perfectly frozen nature of the still seems unnatural, wrong or somewhat unreal. </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Perhaps there is parallel to this effect of disengagement in the “uncanny valley” - a hypothesis in the field of robotics that suggests when human replicas look and act very close to, but not perfectly, like actual human beings, it causes a response of revulsion among human observers. Our brain seems hardwired to reject the unnatural symmetry and predictability of the manufactured facsimile and the illusion of life is lost.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNKnKm00JjCz4ZukFt2BpZ9ARJXN6HgP_gSnA0YaWfVmyXWrHPebiQTaLPVD7Dltn8KEMD2GO4cGHOLF8FHxKwHJnp5ZFgahcYbB3FQm0qNyYgiZHUopPWAMH59yjMyoUqpuFHQu7fWYw/s1600/Grandmaster_Flash_DJ_Legend.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNKnKm00JjCz4ZukFt2BpZ9ARJXN6HgP_gSnA0YaWfVmyXWrHPebiQTaLPVD7Dltn8KEMD2GO4cGHOLF8FHxKwHJnp5ZFgahcYbB3FQm0qNyYgiZHUopPWAMH59yjMyoUqpuFHQu7fWYw/s200/Grandmaster_Flash_DJ_Legend.jpg" width="170" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Never a dull moment </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">with veteran superstar </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">turntablist Grandmaster Flash</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The repetitive beats of dance music are especially reliant on maintaining this organic - or analog - connection with the listener as long as possible. Some of the very first popular music to feature mostly loops and samples, such as that produced by Yellow Magic Orchestra or even the wildstyle turntablism of Grandmaster Flash, was carefully structured to feature steadily layered textures of looped sounds and a progression of rhythms that are never allowed to become predictable.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A friend who produces breakbeat music once explained how he even incorporates mistakes and almost imperceptible changes of timing into his looped drumbeats. The effect is subliminal, but serves to make identical loops feel less mechanical and more organic to the listener. Compare this artful construction of sound with a late 80’s Mark Summer B-side and notice how quickly the listener disengages from the predictable.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"></span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Thus, in order to maintain audience connection as long as possible, the use of looped material needs to be so subtle as to avoid immediate and obvious recognition of repetition, yet still establish enough delicate variation in texture to sustain the illusion of the passing time. Yet, whilst the use of loops in music and narrative moving image is designed to be as invisible as possible, for artists the creative potential of the looped image is often exploited deliberately and directly.</span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Rodney Graham's <i>Vexation Island </i>is a 9-minute film that presents an unconscious eighteenth century shipwrecked man with a wound on his head. The man wakes, rises, notices a coconut in a nearby palm tree and shakes it to get it down. The coconut falls out of the tree and hits him on the head where his wound already was. He is promptly knocked unconscious and falls down in the same place from which he had started. The film then seamlessly starts all over again, raising questions whether or not the short film has a beginning or an end.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Similarly, although less specifically concerned with temporality, Cecilia Bonilla’s video art installation <a href="http://www.ceciliabonilla.com/IN%20AN%20INSTANT/in%20an%20instant.html%20" target="_blank"><i>In An Instant All Will Vanish</i></a>
is a looped film of a gymnast preparing to deliver her floor routine.
The seamlessly replayed clip denies us the resolution of her actual
performance, stretching a brief moment of anticipation into an eternity
and inviting us into the private inner world of the lone athlete.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqIjRGfBvAdU4U27Y0VbloAP_obX5z7YRKEqx7rKqmamiOrmTWwpAqNmtjNohiQzfASaV32LtcUo4WhJCM0vEDdb9hi_7i1gyvD-ULgjDxRJn05ZU5_TskHi22hAhI0_uF8q9jhbuwajg/s1600/In+an+instant+all+will+vanish%28short%29.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="181" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqIjRGfBvAdU4U27Y0VbloAP_obX5z7YRKEqx7rKqmamiOrmTWwpAqNmtjNohiQzfASaV32LtcUo4WhJCM0vEDdb9hi_7i1gyvD-ULgjDxRJn05ZU5_TskHi22hAhI0_uF8q9jhbuwajg/s400/In+an+instant+all+will+vanish%28short%29.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">In An Instant All Will Vanish</span></i>
<br />
<div class="style74">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">2011, single chanel DVD, continuous loop, soundtrack<br />(Cecilia Bonilla with Matt Lewis, commissioned by Haringey Arts Council) </span>
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<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Exhibited as part of <a href="http://interalia.weebly.com/exhibition.html" target="_blank"><i>Fabricate</i></a>, Inter Alia's current exhibition at The Parlour Gallery, this i<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">nstallation
is intriguingly curated into the otherwise static company of
photography and printed works. As an experiential piece, it is quite
compelling and left me reflecting on the psychology of loops and
repeated patterns.</span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Upon
viewing a moving image, our first instinct is to interpret narrative
and continuity. In Bonilla’s piece, we feel the sense of rising tension
as we wait for something to happen, but it never does. The moving image
implies a passage of time and so a carefully looped video can almost
create an alternate timeline for the viewer, alternately extracting and
abstracting meaning like a repeated word word word word word word word
word word word word word.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEBfiDsamYPZ_f8ezV4vA_QGLdzcCBBHcy4puf1GtIjgsyPLkVHrV5CN404Cb9lKdhiodtHkqwBRXdhHaJxYmdJo_7441DHpCYwaz12xbB97wm_rDNYULQKR8mQjAjXjIbp2vp2h_MbS0/s1600/Scooby-and-Shaggy-halloween-251158_1024_768.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEBfiDsamYPZ_f8ezV4vA_QGLdzcCBBHcy4puf1GtIjgsyPLkVHrV5CN404Cb9lKdhiodtHkqwBRXdhHaJxYmdJo_7441DHpCYwaz12xbB97wm_rDNYULQKR8mQjAjXjIbp2vp2h_MbS0/s200/Scooby-and-Shaggy-halloween-251158_1024_768.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Scooby and Shaggy run out of the</span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> "repeat pan" and into the fire!</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Yet
despite the infinite promise of the endlessly recycled vignette, this
hypnotic effect is temporary. As we begin to notice and preempt the
repeated shrugs and small movements of Banilla’s subject, the spell is
broken. We interpret the illusory passage of time only until the brain
has enough information to recognise the loop as ultimately inanimate as a
still image. Like the "repeat pan" trick of an old Hanna-Barbera
cartoon, once we've seen a terrified Scooby and Shaggy fleeing past the
same background door, window and potted plant for the fifth time, we
realise they aren't actually going anywhere at all.</span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikeSKiZaJzvEuw9j6U1al-Gf6TKQXPp0JylqVyOhSZRKD2-YAXDz2nsSnvdpmJJzUDpdmWaLwxgPyIqyFME5bKOXczPEo5JIWnl_oc6EYgmMs_n4L1QT5Zip346bL9rgfvHv2F2Yax_YE/s1600/UncannyValleyRepliee_Q2.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikeSKiZaJzvEuw9j6U1al-Gf6TKQXPp0JylqVyOhSZRKD2-YAXDz2nsSnvdpmJJzUDpdmWaLwxgPyIqyFME5bKOXczPEo5JIWnl_oc6EYgmMs_n4L1QT5Zip346bL9rgfvHv2F2Yax_YE/s400/UncannyValleyRepliee_Q2.jpg" width="228" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Into the uncanny valley of the dolls with</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">the <i>Nedo Repliee Q2</i> robot hostess</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Once
we recognise an image as constant and unchanging, we immediately lose
the temporal dimension. It was common practice in cheaply produced
television shows of the 60’s and 70’s to use still images in place of
filmed action – often in cutaway scenes to establish location or draw
attention to an object or plot macguffin. Even though these are
typically scenes that would demonstrate no activity even if captured on
film - such as a close of up an impending murder weapon for a <i>Columbo</i> antagonist or the gates of the Southfork ranch in <i>Dallas</i>
– the use of such still images seems extremely jarring. The perfectly
frozen nature of the still seems unnatural, wrong or somewhat unreal. </span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Perhaps
there is parallel to this effect of disengagement in the “uncanny
valley” - a hypothesis in the field of robotics that suggests when human
replicas look and act very close to, but not perfectly, like actual
human beings, it causes a response of revulsion among human observers.
Our brain seems hardwired to reject the unnatural symmetry and
predictability of the manufactured facsimile and the illusion of life is
lost.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNKnKm00JjCz4ZukFt2BpZ9ARJXN6HgP_gSnA0YaWfVmyXWrHPebiQTaLPVD7Dltn8KEMD2GO4cGHOLF8FHxKwHJnp5ZFgahcYbB3FQm0qNyYgiZHUopPWAMH59yjMyoUqpuFHQu7fWYw/s1600/Grandmaster_Flash_DJ_Legend.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNKnKm00JjCz4ZukFt2BpZ9ARJXN6HgP_gSnA0YaWfVmyXWrHPebiQTaLPVD7Dltn8KEMD2GO4cGHOLF8FHxKwHJnp5ZFgahcYbB3FQm0qNyYgiZHUopPWAMH59yjMyoUqpuFHQu7fWYw/s200/Grandmaster_Flash_DJ_Legend.jpg" width="170" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> Never a dull moment </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">with veteran superstar </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">turntablist Grandmaster Flash</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The
repetitive beats of dance music are especially reliant on maintaining
this organic - or analog - connection with the listener as long as
possible. Some of the very first popular music to feature mostly loops
and samples, such as that produced by Yellow Magic Orchestra or even the
wildstyle turntablism of Grandmaster Flash, was carefully structured to
feature steadily layered textures of looped sounds and a progression of
rhythms that are never allowed to become predictable.</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A
friend who produces breakbeat music once explained how he even
incorporates mistakes and almost imperceptible changes of timing into
his looped drumbeats. The effect is subliminal, but serves to make
identical loops feel less mechanical and more organic to the listener.
Compare this artful construction of sound with a late 80’s Mark Summer
B-side and notice how quickly the listener disengages from the
predictable.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Thus,
in order to maintain audience connection as long as possible, the use
of looped material needs to be so subtle as to avoid immediate and
obvious recognition of repetition, yet still establish enough delicate
variation in texture to sustain the illusion of the passing time. Yet,
whilst the use of loops in music and narrative moving image is designed
to be as invisible as possible, for artists the creative potential of
the looped image is often exploited deliberately and directly.</span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Rodney Graham's <i>Vexation Island </i>is
a 9-minute film that presents an unconscious eighteenth century
shipwrecked man with a wound on his head. The man wakes, rises, notices a
coconut in a nearby palm tree and shakes it to get it down. The coconut
falls out of the tree and hits him on the head where his wound already
was. He is promptly knocked unconscious and falls down in the same place
from which he had started. The film then seamlessly starts all over
again, raising questions whether or not the short film has a beginning
or an end.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</div>matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-46985988697710487562012-02-07T06:46:00.000-08:002012-02-07T16:26:06.568-08:00Make Your Own Damn Culture: How Social Media Might Just Save The Art World<style>
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<b><span style="font-size: small;">As we enter a new age of austerity, the cultural landscape
is shifting beneath us and fault lines have finally begun to shake the
precariously decadent pillars of our creative monotheism. Please forgive this self-indulgent opening
paragraph but it seems an appropriate way to begin a sobering reflection on the
twilight of an era of obscene greed, vanity and cultural self-indulgence.</span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">This is a crucial time in our cultural history and it has
been instigated by two major developments.
The global economic recession is one powerful influence, but it is the
maturity of online networks and social media that looks set to have the
greatest and most defining impact. The
consequences of a new global digital culture may be felt in almost every aspect
of our modern lives and there is every reason to believe that the effect on the
arts might just be revolutionary.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">During comfortable economic times, it’s pretty plain to see
we have allowed practically all our popular forms of art become increasingly
devoid of purpose and exclusive to participate in. The last 30 years, in particular, have seen
the popular arts to become the very embodiment of aspirational affluence and
excess. It would be even be easy to
forget it wasn’t always this way.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">To understand the particular vulnerabilities of the arts to
this most recent technological shift, we have to first glance back at how our
notions of the purpose and form of the ‘popular arts’ evolved.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The Classical Arts had always been reliant on the patronage
of the rich and powerful. The 15th
Century banking dynasty of the de Medici family, for instance, financed much of
the art and architecture that came to define the Renaissance period. Countless revered artists, including
Donatello, Fra Angelico and Michelangelo, emerged from these deep mercantile
pockets, but the alchemical teat of
classical patronage – which extended to suckle poets, painters and composers
alike – did not conjure these art forms into being. The crafts, mediums and concepts of images,
words and music have existed since our most primitive times. Whilst influential, these classical
achievements do not fully represent the truly popular expression of the art
forms of their time: these are simply the loudest and most grandiose of our
cultural artefacts, intended to celebrate the power of church, state and
commerce.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Far from being exclusive and refined, the arts are mined
from much deeper and universal veins of existing creativity and human
experience. ‘Popular Culture’ in many
ways could be read as a shorthand (or a rebrand) for a universally accessible
cultural experience – and for over five centuries our primary popular art forms
have thrived independently of patronage, thank you very much. Robert Johnson, Charlie Parker, Vincent Van
Gogh, Jan Vermeer, William Blake and Oscar Wilde, amongst <a href="http://www.finearttips.com/2011/10/10-famous-artists-who-died-before-their-art-was-recognized/" target="_blank">countless other visionaries</a>, died penniless and ruined, yet all played a key role in
establishing the billion dollar pop culture industries that thrive to this day.</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdgmjTtTP4F0Y_tsAeLOx1YcmNhnAsNb0u-OAx1vRpySFFXaN6CM-vMI4YUaAiQaPTDxGpl2GU-jgm834F5COQbhGzMa0feB-gAhQZz5n-fCEoN4yLYb-3NND90H941rbApcW8Rv46E8o/s1600/artistswhodiedpoor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="341" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdgmjTtTP4F0Y_tsAeLOx1YcmNhnAsNb0u-OAx1vRpySFFXaN6CM-vMI4YUaAiQaPTDxGpl2GU-jgm834F5COQbhGzMa0feB-gAhQZz5n-fCEoN4yLYb-3NND90H941rbApcW8Rv46E8o/s400/artistswhodiedpoor.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Artists who died penniless: Charlie Parker, Oscar Wilde, Vincent Van
Gogh, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Jan Vermeer, William Blake and Robert Johnson.</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Music is often recognised as the most popular of the popular
art forms. Perhaps because of its
universality and ability to transcend barriers of language. Perhaps it is simply the most accessible art
form to participate in. Either way,
where popular music leads, contemporary pop culture seems to follow. It is therefore at the birth of the modern
recording industry in the pioneering early modernity of the United States, we
can first see the strange shift in the commercialisation of culture that would
soon engulf the wider arts.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Here again we find that advances in technology were the
catalyst. In this case it was Edison’s
phonograph, a recordable medium that enabled affordable reproduction of music
to wider audiences. Coupled with
developments in radio broadcasting, a vast palette of sounds - from delta blues
to jazz to rousing rural hymnals to Appalachian folk - could be easily be
stripped from their natural habitat and repackaged for mass consumption.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">At a local level, it is a common culture – in fashion, in
ritual and art - that provides a shared identity and holds a community
together. Common culture was the
framework for our first social networks.
But up to this point, they had been limited in relevance to their
locality. The result of giving any of
these isolated elements national or international exposure was presumably a
gamble, but here, at a time when a horde of middle-class post-war teenagers
were searching for their own mass identity, the results were explosive.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">If the fledgling 50’s music industry was taken by surprise
by the sudden and seemingly unforeseen popularity of Bill Haley’s Rock Around
The Clock, it didn’t take them long to recognise the incredible financial
potential of the mass teenage thirst for backbeat rebellion. By the time Elvis
was face down in the Graceland bathroom, Rock and Roll had gone global and the
first multi-million dollar cultural industry had been born. By 2005, just four music groups controlled about
70% of the worldwide music market. Many of our beloved Independents are simply
undercover tentacles of this beastly Lovecraftian “Big Four”, an unholy
alliance of Sony Music Entertainment, the EMI Group, Warner Music Group and The
Universal Music Group.</span></div>
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<br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Culture Goes Pop!</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">It was at during this time that ‘pop culture’ as we know it
first emerged – and the musician was the first artist to find the purpose of
their craft readjusted. It was to make
money. Whether a spokeperson, a healer,
a historian or hedonist, it appeared the craft had become entirely reliant on
the mechanisms of commerce, not only to be recorded and heard, but also to be
formally anointed as a professional ‘artist’.
Without the backing of publicists and promoters or a label with the
financial clout to press recordings and enforce repeated radio play, then the
art alone became literally and figuratively stripped of value.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">That value lay in the ability to assimilate, replicate and
disseminate that art and, over subsequent generations, painter and poet alike
were required to submit to the dark arts of marketing.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Marketing demands that the quality of art is defined by its
fiscal return, it’s value therefore determined by mass popularity. This model quickly extended to place all the
popular arts in the most overwhelming position that all experimentation and
evolution is cruelly stifled. The
creative became a wholly commercial concern.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOC11TezYWQVczVCCx74MPwF5fAFdgxGy7KYJHJqv9GB_mR4jc95LYrMIomwNPn9Tz2lKUsTYvGwHDs8EZenUJuZkViw5o51ohw4EZ6AeJldB68e_rCa_gq6pYQCkLt3YHz-CV3tsNfuM/s1600/campbells-tomato-soup-484.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOC11TezYWQVczVCCx74MPwF5fAFdgxGy7KYJHJqv9GB_mR4jc95LYrMIomwNPn9Tz2lKUsTYvGwHDs8EZenUJuZkViw5o51ohw4EZ6AeJldB68e_rCa_gq6pYQCkLt3YHz-CV3tsNfuM/s320/campbells-tomato-soup-484.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Some Art, yesterday...or is it just soup?</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">Art was no longer something you could do, it was reformed,
reshaped in the corporate image. Ever
avaricious, the forces of industry recognised the power of art as an incredible
winning investment. Why gamble on
unstable dreamers, when the product could be manufactured just like any other
soup can? With the ability to reward those profitable successes with promises
of sex, money and fame, it was easy to line up the next willing stooge to help
perpetuate the myth that culture was little more than an elaborate exercise in
product placement.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">And so increasingly elaborate machinery was installed in
order for artists to access the recognition and riches they craved. You could no longer just be a simple painter
outside of the system and still be considered a legitimate artist. You instead had to navigate the ever more
narrowing channels of university tutelage and sales pitch, auction house and
seminars, private view and dinner party.
Conditioning and expense was installed to ensure increasing
exclusivity. After all, in order to
maximise audience and profit it is also necessary to control and limit the
means of production.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjneKlh5Mx_60m4BuC10nRSjxhGkQ_9e9RGKv0pirYpRpV-EcrkNp94ArWEXOqtHAv_agNIHw_pW5ExNXKwBmE1psGKZpTwTGIQbOHoraKYGTtijK48HlgqlRmsyj6Vf3ChHQH1GtSuM80/s1600/Warhol_Self-Portrait_428-wide.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjneKlh5Mx_60m4BuC10nRSjxhGkQ_9e9RGKv0pirYpRpV-EcrkNp94ArWEXOqtHAv_agNIHw_pW5ExNXKwBmE1psGKZpTwTGIQbOHoraKYGTtijK48HlgqlRmsyj6Vf3ChHQH1GtSuM80/s200/Warhol_Self-Portrait_428-wide.jpg" width="196" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">It's Andy Warhol!</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">Ever the brazen brattish cousin of the popular arts, the
fine art world occasionally attempted to cast its critical gaze on the very
cultural industries that dominated the galleries, the studios, the critics and
the investors who supported them.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The 1960’s Pop Art of Andy Warhol recognised and addressed
this alliance directly. His paintings
defiantly used imagery from advertisements, newspaper headlines and other
mass-produced images from American popular culture, famously including
everything from Campbell's soup tins to Coca Cola bottles. Later he applied the same treatment to
portraits of celebrities and other prominent public figures, including Elvis
Presley, Jackie Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">His narrative reconciled high and low culture and his
assertion that ‘everyone could have their fifteen minutes of fame’ suggested an
intention to undermine the distinction between the two. This attempt to reappropriate the language of
the commerce was initially successful, yet as Warhol attempted to prise open
the doors of the art factory to all he only served to elevate the role of the
artist to even higher and unassailable heights of fame. In his attempt to embrace mass audience
participation, Warhol’s screen prints, screen tests or even his motley crew of
acolytes were no longer the art object, instead the art became the artist his
or herself. He got reappropriated right
back and inadvertently created the role of Superstar Artist.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBmKlEBYmY6dC0NBYYMoQqz9SSGlidY-yli4YXhiZ9mAzd6ECN3xtIlNK5-CuuJOZqGa2toWO299i8TkumhRj4MMqoLI7wq9fWF-6BlL0oAwdgFfNotCnRpxQP1fRJSVnvYeH4Hc_JEbY/s1600/BigBangsBigBucks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBmKlEBYmY6dC0NBYYMoQqz9SSGlidY-yli4YXhiZ9mAzd6ECN3xtIlNK5-CuuJOZqGa2toWO299i8TkumhRj4MMqoLI7wq9fWF-6BlL0oAwdgFfNotCnRpxQP1fRJSVnvYeH4Hc_JEbY/s320/BigBangsBigBucks.jpg" width="249" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Explosive spectacle and money, as juxtaposed by</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">photographers Geoffrey H. Short and Nikolai Ishchuk</span> <br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">from <a href="http://www.diemarnoblephotography.com/exhibition/big-bangs-big-bucks-photographs-by-geoffrey-h-short-and-nikolai-ishchuk/" target="_blank">Big Bangs, Big Bucks</a>, the excellent & thought </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">provoking 2011 exhibition from Diemar/Noble Photography</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">The Superstar phenomenon is a tribute to the effectiveness
of the scorched earth cultural policy of building impenetrably high financial
barriers. An neat comparison can be seen
in the movie industry, where the brief wellspring of new wave, independent and
experimental cinema and the radicals of the 70’s New Hollywood who rushed to
claim the medium from the aging studio systems, were quickly absorbed and
neutered by the megabucks blockbuster.
These were movies so big and expensive that they simply couldn’t fail,
with budgets so enormous that they would bankrupt a small country. Despite the howls of outraged critics, excess
was successful every time, because we are all drawn to spectacle, no matter how
artless. There is, of course, a place
for awe and spectacle in our lives, but once spectacle comes to define a medium
and dominate every platform, the little guy with the big idea can’t even
contemplate competition. Art becomes an
abstract of itself: a gigantic, soft rock, slow motion, exploding, computer
generated, Jerry Bruckheimer parody of itself – and we love it.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">For cinema and Warhol alike, this reached its peak in
the materialist eyesore of the 1980’s.
Here you will find celebrity artists, such as Jeff Koons, who were
barely even involved in the production of their own work at all. Koon’s reproductions of banal objects - such as
balloon animals rendered in stainless steel with mirror finish surfaces - were
exquisitely expensive productions, created by master craftspeople and designed
to be spectacle. The role of the
Superstar artist was to be a director, a brand and to be an utterly glamorous
and rich object of aspiration.</span><br />
<br /></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2eKq5uJFpf0s_LJG95aozl4SqqWopkWvjlEL7Ak3GfLTVdVcmZaqYMq8H6NoWNk_JdhGNR3DHjz618eQyF4xm0fqYccLfRvZ2tWHFF4gCcf8g-gUo2-NtHFlNDpaMeCzTPvLeoVJvqoU/s1600/CrystalSkull.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2eKq5uJFpf0s_LJG95aozl4SqqWopkWvjlEL7Ak3GfLTVdVcmZaqYMq8H6NoWNk_JdhGNR3DHjz618eQyF4xm0fqYccLfRvZ2tWHFF4gCcf8g-gUo2-NtHFlNDpaMeCzTPvLeoVJvqoU/s400/CrystalSkull.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">This is what a £14 million cystal skull looks like.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">For The Love of God, Damien!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">It’s no surprise that the fine arts have became so
increasingly self-absorbed and self-referential under the academic conditioning
of Postmodernism; drifting so far from relevance to the wider world that the
media was in danger of becoming as impenetrable as the arcane confidence trick
of the ancient alchemist or the modern day gas engineer.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">This Postmodern tide reached it’s most mercantile extreme in
2007, with Damien Hirst’s <i>For The Love of God</i>: a £14 million platinum cast of a
human skull, encrusted with 8,601 flawless diamonds. In an <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/artanddesign/2008/sep/22/1" target="_blank">article</a> defending Hirst in The
Guardian, Germaine Greer clearly establishes the role of Hirsts art:</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: black; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<i><span style="font-size: small;">"Hirst is quite frank about what he doesn't do. He doesn't
paint his triumphantly vacuous spot paintings - the best spot paintings by
Damien Hirst are those painted by Rachel Howard. His undeniable genius consists
in getting people to buy them. Damien Hirst is a brand, because the art form of
the 21st century is marketing. To develop so strong a brand on so conspicuously
threadbare a rationale is hugely creative - revolutionary even. The whole stupendous
gallimaufrey is a Vanitas, a reminder of futility and entropy.”</span></i></div>
</blockquote>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The outsider with wild and unique vision, but even a modest budget for materials, could never hope to compete for audiences on the level of this kind of spectacle. The artist without patronage or the support of a major sponsor or gallerist, the band without the backing of a major label or the writer without the clout of an international publishing house was almost invisible. If a tree fell in the woods and no one was around to hear it, only John Cage would be allowed to record the resulting zen koan. Anyone else would just be plainly nuts.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">It was the industry that defined the relevance of art, a curious state of affairs considering the long-standing role of the underground and the outsider in defining cultural identity. Warhol’s assertion that we would all have our “15 minutes of fame” was remarkably prescient: by the 1980’s we all wanted our 15 minutes, our MTV and our bowl of M&M’s with absolutely all the brown ones removed.</span></div>
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<br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Pop Goes Culture!</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">This bubble is now dangerously and joyously close to
bursting. Art is only relevant and
engaging when it reflects our life.
First and foremost, this is simply because the money isn’t there anymore
to sustain the Superstar lifestyle.
Nowhere is the effect of the economic collapse on the art world
illustrated more clearly than in the recent cancellation of a planned
exhibition by conceptual artist Chris Burden at the Gagosian Gallery in Los
Angeles. Burden’s installation involved
the use of 100kg of gold bricks that the gallery purchased from the Stanford
Financial Group, unfortunately now at the centre of a massive fraud
investigation. Now, announces the Gagosian, <i>"the gallery's gold has been
frozen while the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission investigates
Stanford."</i> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">But even if we aren’t all going to become Superstars
anymore, if this great cultural gold rush seems to be over, people are still
making art. In fact, they are making
lots of it, despite the absence of red carpets, canapés and gushing
praise. In an <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/booksblog/2012/jan/26/future-of-books-today?CMP=twt_gu" target="_blank">article</a> discussing
the post digitalisation future of the publishing industry, writer Neil Gaiman
again reflects on the music industry as an analog to this cultural transition:
<i>“There are fewer rock stars travelling the world in their private jets, but
there's a lot more good music.”</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Actually there have always been artists making powerful,
engaging and thought provoking work outside of the professional workshop, but
it’s almost as if we never noticed before.
The reason we notice it now, as I stated all those words ago, is because
of austerity and technology.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Austerity suddenly makes the gratuitous spectacle a little
less attractive and urges us to rub our eyes and look away for a moment. During this serendipitous interruption, it’s
a shock to find just how close technology has brought us together. Suddenly we are part of an unimaginably vast
common audience and – with the spectacle temporarily muted – we can actually
hear each other. In online social media, technology has finally given all of us
the ability to communicate, to meet, debate, connect and share freely in a way
that had previously been restricted to the monied corporate gatekeepers of the
arts.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">It’s ironic that the arts have been freed from their
imprisonment by the progress of technology that had initially been complicit in
their incarceration. During the late
60’s and early 70’s, mass reproduction of media had become affordable to the
individual and this inspired a brief but enduring period of Do It Yourself
culture. Brash and aggressive punk music
thrived on antisocial outsider status, defined by the rejection of mainstream
popular culture and spreading to a substantial and politicised audience through
a network of home taping and photocopied fanzines. This defiance was short lived – without the
oxygen of truly global marketing and denied a truly global platform, punk
culture was quickly assimilated and one by one it’s surviving exponents lined
up to sell out to major labels and world tours.
But now, technology has given us not only the tools of production and
reproduction, but also, crucially, a networking, marketing and collaborative
platform on a scale undreamed of just a few decades ago.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjK7mey6EstmmGNdB_ek9eeVWsRmt3l3s9v0xPsT1Ufbj7vKjV2NQMltqeCI76FIKxaV5_0wpNGnHplThtPrMIUqz7V1bIB4Q19kfRZdQXO4qxoVtC4b_cH_MDrEbf_WoijMNiO0oKQ9g/s1600/lk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjK7mey6EstmmGNdB_ek9eeVWsRmt3l3s9v0xPsT1Ufbj7vKjV2NQMltqeCI76FIKxaV5_0wpNGnHplThtPrMIUqz7V1bIB4Q19kfRZdQXO4qxoVtC4b_cH_MDrEbf_WoijMNiO0oKQ9g/s200/lk.jpg" width="149" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Lloyd Kaufman, from whose book,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.amazon.co.uk/Make-Your-Own-Damn-Movie/dp/0312288646" target="_blank"><i>Make Your Own Damn Movie</i></a>, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">I stole the title of this essay.</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">This levelling of the playing field is embodied in the
concept of Network Neutrality, a principle that advocates no restrictions by
Internet service providers or governments on audiences access to networks that
participate in the Internet.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Lloyd Kaufman, the President of Troma Films, is a forceful
champion of the Independent Arts. While
Kaufman’s own particular arts may be an acquired taste - the equivalent of
loading a cannon with high concept Corman high scripts, steroids and boob jobs
and firing it point blank at a day-glo wall to see what sticks – he is a
passionate and eloquent advocate of Net Neutrality. At <a href="http://www.savetheinternet.com/" target="_blank"><i>Save the Internet</i></a>, a campaign site for Net Netrality, Kaufman <a href="http://www.savetheinternet.com/blog/10/09/03/net-neutrality-supports-independent-art" target="_blank">summarises</a>:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<i><span style="font-size: small;">“Right now, dear reader, your website, my company, Troma’s website and Disney’s
website all have equal opportunities on the level playing field of the
Internet. If your site or content is interesting, you can attract a larger
public than Viacom, Rupert Murdoch or Justin Bieber. And, should the Internet
ever prove to be a source of great revenue, then you too will have your fair
share of the profit.”</span></i></div>
</blockquote>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Now, this is not a post-punk call to arms. Art doesn’t need to be a prettily
painted Molotov cocktail designed to smash the system. Rather, we now face a readjustment of
purpose. There will always be a
necessary place for prospective investment and spectacle in the art world – but
now we have a chance to participate alongside and reclaim a new sense of
cultural identity again. Nowhere are the
early glimmers of this cultural readjustment more evident than in the
egalitarian organisation of social media based creatives. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Global is the new local.
An artist’s commune or collective can now reach out to an international
audience. For the first time, every
suburban dreamer or isolated rural recluse has a chance to resurrect the
collaborative spirit of Warhol’s <i>Factory</i> or the Swinging London
<i>Pheasantry </i>from the comfort of their own laptop.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Quirky independent collaborations such as Theresa Bruno and
Krystle Shard’s <i><a href="http://theresabruno.squarespace.com/blog/2011/9/30/the-wallet-gallery.html" target="_blank">Wallet Gallery</a></i>, a neat social network based project to curate a
show of miniature collected artworks within the confines of a leather wallet,
act as catalysts to form an artist community around shared ideas, unrestricted
by geography or access to particular networks or circles.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ2d-GGSwtPxfnH3bwvffZm5JKfqbGXF-qJ1mSzh9NEYn5zQ2FA8rtz0ia3S7RWflrE4s9ZKbkx1Y7HXS5YKLhdtDh3ZMQgakhfi0zulptd0KyWNqFFg9Plu3PJnK75plaSGCYdtevKbk/s1600/Learningtolove.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ2d-GGSwtPxfnH3bwvffZm5JKfqbGXF-qJ1mSzh9NEYn5zQ2FA8rtz0ia3S7RWflrE4s9ZKbkx1Y7HXS5YKLhdtDh3ZMQgakhfi0zulptd0KyWNqFFg9Plu3PJnK75plaSGCYdtevKbk/s320/Learningtolove.jpg" width="251" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Learning to Love You More, Assignment #49</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">"<a class="headerone2" href="http://www.learningtoloveyoumore.com/reports/49/49.php"><span class="headerone2">Draw a picture of your friend's friend</span></a><span class="bodytext2">"</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="bodytext2"><i>Noelien's Friend</i> by Nina Yuen</span></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">Online platforms also enable a scope of interactivity and
longevity that would have been economically unacceptable within the traditional
confines of the commercial gallery.
<i><a href="http://learningtoloveyoumore.com/index.php" target="_blank">Learning to Love You More</a></i> was a website project by Miranda July and
Harrell Fletcher. Over seven years, from 2002 to 2009, the artists posted
assignments for their global audience.
Those participants who accepted these assignments - such as “repair
something” or “interview someone who has experienced war” — submitted photos,
articles, videos and audio clips of their completed tasks.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">This collection of projects inspired a book and was
presented at venues including The Whitney Museum, The Seattle Art Museum and the
Wattis Institute. In 2009, the website was acquired by the San Francisco Museum
of Modern Art. Here, in an increasingly common inversion, it is the audience
that first engage, promote and establish the provenance of the artwork, with
the traditional platforms of the art industry following afterward, reduced to
the status of passive observers and collectors.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Alongside crowd sourcing and audience participation, the
online network can also generate cash investment in diverse proposals. Online pledge systems for funding creative
projects, such as <a href="http://www.kickstarter.com/" target="_blank">Kickstarter</a>, have great potential for realising more
ambitious ideas. Broad shared backing of
amounts as small as $5-$10 means that investors are often engaging in patronage
based on ownership of something they would like to be created rather than
direct financial return.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiykc-4knA43XPo-ih_n8lO1lcvpsYYsw1Saiz30oND_0rxh1ZrUkeN-_uEMMHh3M8MHo2sAYRNSiuXz4QBBooLiWysP_Vx_30-cnXeJBblhRUPyh_svWeZ50sB_cZcL_4XINvpSAPtGyE/s1600/SoToSpeakPromo.tiff" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiykc-4knA43XPo-ih_n8lO1lcvpsYYsw1Saiz30oND_0rxh1ZrUkeN-_uEMMHh3M8MHo2sAYRNSiuXz4QBBooLiWysP_Vx_30-cnXeJBblhRUPyh_svWeZ50sB_cZcL_4XINvpSAPtGyE/s320/SoToSpeakPromo.tiff" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Still from the Kickstarter promotional short for </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Emily Berçir Zimmerman's <i>So To Speak</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Consider <a href="http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/bercir/so-to-speak?ref=live" target="_blank"><i>So To Speak</i></a>, an exhibition conceived and curated by
Emily Berçir Zimmerman. Her proposal was
selected to be exhibited at the BRIC Rotunda Gallery in New York, but the costs
entailed in shipping the four key artworks by Fiona Banner, Hollis Frampton,
Melinda McDaniel and Klub Zwei to Brooklyn exceeded the exhibition's allotted
budget. Through Kickstarter, Zimmerman was able to raise the additional $2,500
necessary to programme the exhibition without compromise. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">As was once the case long ago, the success or profile of a
creative work no longer relies on the marketing budget; instead its success
depends on its ability to inspire, engage or connect with an audience. Even
financial barriers can be overcome: fan funding is self-fulfilling marketing –
if your big idea is strong enough, interesting enough and attracts a enough
investors to fund it into being, then you’ve the reassurance that the audience
is there before you’ve put pen to paper, scene to lens or chord to record.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeqtwHC1NTwPIEb6nx8MtHAtmACI_AJFOAu1HTxaze4FHPZMjrKeqm7FLy9Rv7VqmiDnni1MeH0qtl0aAl45ni0RC2PD5ZvJu67H10WT22ghQIFXLv5ZRkka0Q6D_Q_rQIzxNhPW79trc/s1600/AdLaneInvasionofthenotquitedead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeqtwHC1NTwPIEb6nx8MtHAtmACI_AJFOAu1HTxaze4FHPZMjrKeqm7FLy9Rv7VqmiDnni1MeH0qtl0aAl45ni0RC2PD5ZvJu67H10WT22ghQIFXLv5ZRkka0Q6D_Q_rQIzxNhPW79trc/s200/AdLaneInvasionofthenotquitedead.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Antony Lane, icon of fan empowerment</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">Just a decade ago, the average movie fan could only daydream
that they would one day be able to make their own feature and open a
relationship with the medium they love from afar. But now, if you’ve the passion to bring
together enough likeminded people who share your vision, it’s a possibility
that’s within the reach of all. Just ask
Antony Lane, whose entirely fan funded, old school zombie movie <a href="http://www.indywood.co.uk/fundraising/" target="_blank">Invasion of the Not Quite Dead</a> goes into production this year.
</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Direct backing even enables established artists to reconnect
with their audience. Once freed from
their contract with EMI, Radiohead's subsequent album <i>In Rainbows</i> was released
through the band's own website in October 2007 as a digital download for which
customers could make whatever payment that they deemed appropriate - even
opting not to pay at all. With no major
label backing or marketing, 1.2 million downloads were reportedly sold by the
day of release.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Appearing on The Colbert Report, Ed O'Brien explained:
"We sell less records, but we make more money." Colin Greenwood
explained the Internet release as a way of avoiding the "regulated
playlists" and "straightened formats" of radio and TV, ensuring
fans around the world could all experience the music at the same time and
preventing leaks in advance of a physical release.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Make Your Own Damn Culture </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Art makes us feel part of the world, part of something
bigger. At its best, it evokes shared experience. We want to be part of something, to
collaborate, engage and be complicit, not simply gazing acquisitively through
shop windows. We want art to mean
something because we want ourselves to mean something. </span><span style="font-size: small;">We now have the tools to share our dreams, visions and crazy leaps of inspiration wider and more eloquently than ever before. We have an ability to connect, engage and maybe even change our world in a way that no previous generation has experienced. We really don't have any excuses anymore. If we don't feel that our communities and cultures relate to us, speak with us or fulfill us, then we have the power - and the responsibility - to make our own cultural alternatives. After all, </span><span style="font-size: small;">if we can’t own our own culture and if we can’t
participate in it, it’s not really our culture at all.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-14910486425265190642012-01-14T05:43:00.000-08:002012-02-06T12:58:06.738-08:00Notes from the Underground: The Unnoticed Board & the High Visibility Vest<style>
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<b><span style="font-size: small;">At Oval Station there is a noticeboard upon which some mysterious London Underground staffer dutifully writes a quote of the day. I have made many trips through this station over the last couple of years, but have failed to notice this incongruous board until recently. Over the course of recent visits, the words of F. Scott Fitzgerald, Aristotle and even Dr. Seuss have replaced regular station closure updates, last departure times or stern warnings concerning the unsafe surfaces of recently mopped platforms.</span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Aq3RheZObNn2LFBUDA19z_H0HbphEFi-2IB8zl7AkORuOUtc5wNDLaETnmhxzkBsEEwXKGa2RJyP9oYl2heuanp-z5yY02nQae85iJcbW1vOLW016gC6R-uJkAtEQUV4nb7Ln7rTilQ/s1600/OvalStationsigns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Aq3RheZObNn2LFBUDA19z_H0HbphEFi-2IB8zl7AkORuOUtc5wNDLaETnmhxzkBsEEwXKGa2RJyP9oYl2heuanp-z5yY02nQae85iJcbW1vOLW016gC6R-uJkAtEQUV4nb7Ln7rTilQ/s400/OvalStationsigns.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Apparently, this has gone on for some time. Since making this discovery I have also spotted similar messages at Stockwell and Angel, along with numerous peculiar personalised additions to railway station PA announcements, additions that I must have simply overlooked in the past. On a recent trip to York, whose grand 19th century station is a source of some regional pride, it took me almost an hour into waiting for a delayed connection to notice that the monotone concourse announcements were being recited entirely in verse:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i>“The 14:25 to D</i><i>arlington is sadly delayed, apologies to travellers whose journeys waylaid.” </i> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Dr. Seuss is evidently a big influence on our frontline railway employees.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Like the largely unnoticed-noticeboard, the majority of passengers around me seemed entirely oblivious to the poetic oddity. They were <i>un</i>listening until the exact moment that their destination was mentioned and only then would they pay enough momentary attention to get the information they needed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The more scrutiny I give to the utilitarian environments of the city, the more apparent these little acts of everyday subversion appear. It’s fascinating how acutely this highlights our obliviousness to the monotony of the familiar and regular.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOjBKIvjcjKhqLMkGubIHeld9AYfVGdbEqjoZyf4t3oQCY68QQzTYVMrp_tYM1kYECD3RUQ4w0mFw-8spz9C68BQ3BibD9xinRVKYfI3UvXhK2DwptYhWcBzZaxcXRkNrFeO8tX5lQYdY/s1600/TominTabardSGP.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOjBKIvjcjKhqLMkGubIHeld9AYfVGdbEqjoZyf4t3oQCY68QQzTYVMrp_tYM1kYECD3RUQ4w0mFw-8spz9C68BQ3BibD9xinRVKYfI3UvXhK2DwptYhWcBzZaxcXRkNrFeO8tX5lQYdY/s320/TominTabardSGP.JPG" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>My compadre Tom modelling the classic </i><br />
<i>High Visibility Vest at the Secret Garden Party.</i><br />
<i>Note that no one else can see him.</i></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">A similar oxymoron to the <i>Notice Board</i> is also found in the <i>High Visibility Vest</i> - a brightly coloured safety garment that grants the wearer with an incredible power of invisibility. At various music festivals and events, where I am required to move through herds of revellers, from stage to stage and usually at woefully short notice, I quickly recognised the value of the fluorescent tabard. Like a blue collar Moses, even the most belligerent crowds instinctively spread to allow safe and swift passage. The <i>High-Vis</i> wearer is also regularly waved through into the inner sanctum of backstage or other forbidden areas, with barely a glace at official security wristbands or passes. If someone is packing <i>High-Vis</i> they are projecting one simple statement, loud and clear: “I am working.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The only proof that I am not entirely invisible is in the occasional hurried retreat of anyone I might pass who is under the misconception that this perceived display of authority is a threat to whatever illicit activities they might be indulging in. Prohibited glass bottles are tucked into jackets, bongs are hastily abandoned and awkward outdoor sexual manoeuvres are temporarily chastened.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">No one pays the slightest attention to what the <i>High-Vis</i> wearer is doing - it is simply assumed they are meant to be there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">This special power is well known. Street artists have long used the <i>Hi-Vis</i> to openly write on walls, safe in the knowledge that passers by simply will not give them a second look. The famed Banksy often goes further, erecting a worker’s tent or stencilling official looking ‘graffiti permissions’ on walls. It is notable that the Securitas depot heist, the largest cash robbery in British history, was carried out by a crack team primarily using the deceptive masterstroke of <i>Hi-Vis</i> vests.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">It is the perfect urban camouflage: the wearer becomes the unnoticed board. In time I would be unsurprised if feral urban foxes gradually evolved markings in the form of tiny yellow jackets in order to truly slip unseen through the city.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">After a while, we stop looking at the things we see every day. We stop engaging with familiarity. Whilst working in a well-known high street warehouse superstore during the late ’90’s, we would amuse ourselves with endlessly nonsensical announcements on the in-store PA system. Despite increasing levels of puerility, no one paid the slightest attention. Just for the record, “Mrs Kuntz” was a real customer – and I would like to apologise to her now for any entirely accidental innuendo that may have crept into my requests that she come to the main counter.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlPPsLa6xbZvVqvHBcvk6q-WZ_ymdTqf-g4Zdiv2FHKuJoV6QvZZdl50f35gvgCXWnUuuWHI0JTp0SqfHFe1K6L16UrsrpddQuz-wlHT-dp5-02eTo17CDR_VEHBa0ujY8rzLI6jPW83E/s1600/TheyLiveRoddyView.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlPPsLa6xbZvVqvHBcvk6q-WZ_ymdTqf-g4Zdiv2FHKuJoV6QvZZdl50f35gvgCXWnUuuWHI0JTp0SqfHFe1K6L16UrsrpddQuz-wlHT-dp5-02eTo17CDR_VEHBa0ujY8rzLI6jPW83E/s1600/TheyLiveRoddyView.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>'Rowdy' Roddy Piper (above) wakes up to</i><br />
<i>truth in advertising (below) in 'They Live'</i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">In the movie <i>They Live</i>, John Carpenter’s 1988 science-fiction actioner, one time wrestling superstar ‘Rowdy’ Roddy Piper discovers a pair of special sunglasses allow him to wake up to the fact that aliens have taken over the Earth. These aliens occupy the highest level of the social elite and have been controlling humanity for decades.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Through his magical eyewear, Piper can not only see the true skeletal form of the disguised aliens but also the subliminal messages hidden within mass media and signage, used to ensure the human race OBEY, SUBMIT and STAY ASLEEP.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">In contrast, the increasingly homogenous environment of our surroundings, our mass media, our clone high streets and sterilised, commercialised culture, ensures that we gradually start to become oblivious to the individual and the incongruous.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Unlike the secret invasion of <i>They Live</i>, bland uniformity is the illusion and the revealing effect of any unexpected crack in this uniformity of our surroundings might instead be a revelation and reminder to WAKE UP. </span></div>matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-10840247452956435122011-12-31T10:48:00.000-08:002012-05-13T15:27:34.011-07:00Happy New Year: My Obligatory List of the Pick of the Stuff of the Year, 2011<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="font-size: small;">As the critically ailing ship of 2011 slowly sinks beneath the waves, it’s time to burn the deckchairs head for the lifeboats. </span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">It’s time for my usual New Years Eve ritual of affecting cool and detached party ambivalence until the last possible moment. However, at the last minute, my resolve to stay home will collapse with a barrage of last minute texts as I try to in vain to search for that mythical perfect wild and decadent party. </span><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: small;">You know the one - that soon-to-be historic event that everyone you know must have been invited, except for you?</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Predictably, I’ll find myself yet again pleasantly drunk and toasted on a couch somewhere with a small gathering of friends, thinking proudly to myself that this was the best plan all along and wondering why I even bothered to entertain the idea of the overpriced punishment of clubs or re-enacting Braveheart in the desperate crush of Trafalgar Square.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Until next year, at least.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Either way, we want to be close to our loved ones during the Midwinter holidays and the celebration of the passing of the old year is something hardwired into us regardless of culture. Inevitably, that celebration turns to reflection on the year passed and the year ahead. It’s a curious time, when nostalgia is at it’s most myopic as we squint to make sense as to whether we’ve made sense of the last 12 months.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">A family down the road are originally from Brazil and are planning to celebrate New Year with the ‘<i>Quema del Año Viejo</i>’ – literally the Burning of the Old Year. They have been building Papier-mâché effigies of bad things that have happened in the departing year to be burned on News Years Eve night. If you had a recent car accident, for instance, you may choose to make an effigy of the offending vehicle to purge that memory. The youngest son of this particular family has been building a dinosaur, which makes me think my own problems must have been pretty modest in comparison.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">In a way, a broader manifestation of our desire to congregate and burn away of the Old Year is in the annual lists, reviews and ‘Best of’ commentaries that dominate the digital, print and whatever other airwaves there are left. In this reflective spirit I thought I would share my own ‘List of Stuff of the Year, 2011’. I don’t consider myself to be a particular expert in any specific branch of ‘stuff’, so instead I’ll cover all the traditional bases of music and movies and hide my limited view under the pretence of a ‘pick of the year’.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">2011 has been a year of unrest and austerity, defined by a mood of impending great changes and uncertainty. At times like this the comforts of nostalgia are even more compelling. Whether it’s coincidence – or clunky editorial convenience – almost all of my scattered highlights of the last year reflect this.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Refn's Drive, Blizten Trapper's American</i><br />
<i>Goldwing and Amanda Fucking Palmer all</i><br />
<i>delivered style and substance in 2011</i></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">My two favourite movies of the year - in my limited opinion the best of the year by some distance - were Nicolas Winding Refn’s <i>Drive</i> and Darren Aronofsky’s <i>Black Swan</i>. Both look back reassuringly to a different cinematic age, yet are also fresh and wholly contemporary.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i>Drive</i> channels the same bleak 80’s neon dreams that I’m sure still trouble Michael Mann on a regular basis. Ryan Gosling’s Driver-with-no-name is an everyman nephew of Clint Eastwood and Travis Bickle. A vision of icy retro cool, punctuated with blasts of intense and brutal violence, Refn delivers pure cinema and a timely reminder of the importance to <i>show and not tell</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i>Black Swan</i>, conversely, reanimates the 70’s Giallo with a wild melodrama just barely contained by beautiful psychedelic visuals. Amidst the mayhem, Natalie Portman takes the role seriously enough to keep the viewer emotionally engaged and the climax packs a harder punch than any ballet-based drama has a right to.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">An honourable mention should also go to Duncan Jones' <i>Source Code</i>, which was a fresh, economical and exciting spin on some classic pulp science fiction. I also enjoyed Jason Eisener’s wild exploitation movie <i>Hobo With a Shotgun</i>. Although an entirely more sleazy feature – and therefore heaps more fun – it manages a similar trick to those above. It is a grindhouse tribute, borne from a fake trailer for Tarantino & Rodriguez’s Grindhouse movie, but never descends into self-conscious parody or pastiche. Instead, it feels like the real deal, which is because it <i>actually</i> <i>is</i>. Even the Raccoons cartoon end theme blasted over the credits feels like it was always destined to close a splatter movie about a vengeful vagrant. It’s bloody, antisocial, subversive and – most bizarrely of all – occasionally quite charming.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Similarly, I’ve found myself travelling back to more comfortable and secure times through most of the year in music. I’ve been rediscovering and reloving the rare groove, funk and daisy age hip hop I grew up with and making virtual mixtapes from the whimsical folk rock of <i>Fairport Convention</i> and<i> CSN&Y</i> that soundtracked a time when I actually believed anything was possible.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">This is why it’s fitting that my favourite long player release of 2011 was probably Blitzen Trapper’s <i>American Goldwing</i>. It’s a healthy slice of retro country rock on first listen that reveals many sublime pleasures on subsequent play. It also has some a couple of economical guitar solos and a heap of catchy singalong choruses, two endangered musical species that I’d never realised how much I’d missed. It is perhaps Blitzen Trapper’s least schizophrenic recording and sounds simultaneously new and fresh yet, at the same time, like an old friend who had always occupied that space somewhere between the Eagles and Joe Walsh on my record shelf.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Speaking of old friends, the last year also brought <i>Bad As Me</i>, a new release from Tom Waits. This is always a cause for celebration and it’s always a comfort to know that no matter how things may change over the years, ol’ Tom is still out there howling at the moon for all of us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Aside from those two albums, I haven’t heard many new releases that have excited me. It’s a contrast to the rich pickings of the year before that brought us fresh sounds from The Dirty Projectors and The Animal Collective, amongst others.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Maybe all this nostalgia isn’t just a case of me starting old and jaded. Maybe there’s a wider sense of looking for escapism, or perhaps inspiration for where we can go from here.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">In fact, amidst the chaos of the financial crash and a glimpse of the beginning of the collapse of complacent ideologies we’ve carried for so long that we almost seem to have forgotten they are ideologies in the first place, there are some positive signs. Foremost is in the power of collectivity, from the Arab Spring to the hopeful audacity of the Occupy movement. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">In 2011, I discovered that <a href="https://twitter.com/matbarnett" target="_blank">Twitter</a> might actually be a force for good and have some positive practical social effect – although our current Government appear to think <a href="http://www.pbs.org/mediashift/2011/08/what-the-england-riots-tell-us-about-social-media224.html" target="_blank">quite the opposite</a> and seem rather scared of any unsanctioned collectivity. </span><span style="font-size: small;">It was sad footnote that we lost Apple idealist Steve Jobs in October,
as perhaps as much as anyone, his legacy was to bring the world just a
little closer together. Bill Gates, please note: the fact that
Microsoft spellcheck doesn't even seem to recognise the word 'collectivity'
just made me a little more suspicious of you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">It might be crass to suggest that this enduring spirit of collectivity was reflected in an unexpectedly strong year for live music, but the carnivalesque is an important factor in community empowerment. Any positive or peaceful thing that brings people together at a time when society seems to be fracturing has to be celebrated.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The Low Anthem delivered exquisite low anthems at The Green Man festival, <a href="http://www.amandapalmer.net/content/news/" target="_blank">Amanda Palmer</a> began with heartbreaking keys and ended with a rocking punch into the air at Heaven in September whilst the legendary <a href="http://www.royharper.co.uk/" target="_blank">Roy Harper's</a> 70th birthday concert at The Royal Festival Hall was intense, cathartic and transcendent. Those fearless feral freaks, <a href="http://theartfulbadger.com/" target="_blank">The Artful Badgers</a>, also proved there was clubland life beyond Dubstep – although I sometimes wear a tail and carry their boxes, so should maybe declare an interest.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">In the arts there have been a few standouts too. The Fine Arts, at their best, should reflect our wider situation and it’s very clear that there have are big changes on the cultural horizon. For me, it was actually a retrospective of work from the last 40 years or so, the <a href="http://www.susanhiller.org/" target="_blank">Susan Hiller</a> exhibition at Tate Britain, that most captured the spirit of the times with its demonstration that interesting and challenging ideas could be engaging and entertaining without resorting to excessive showy glamour. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">She weaves stories using pseudo-scientific discourse, recording the sublime, the strange, the arcane and the damned. Her canon is almost not art at all, but a sketchbook, patchwork museum of neglected ideas and stories. I could have spent hours alone in the single room that comprised Witness, a dark space dominated by a forest of disembowelled audio speakers trailing from bare wires from the ceiling. Each speaker broadcasts a eyewitness interview of an experience with an Unidentified Flying Object. You can concentrate on one speaker and enjoy a moment of full confessional or sit back and lose yourself in the murmured communion of the whole.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The effects of austerity on the arts is something that has shaken the commercial spectacle of the art world and seems on the brink of liberating the artist from the restrictions of economy and marketing. It’s no coincidence we’ve seen a rising profile from ‘Street Artists’ and it’s natural that this DIY ethic is now reaching to embrace the wider conceptual and formal arts. I don’t envisage too many million dollar crystal skulls over the next decade.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Across town in “London’s fashionable” Fitzrovia is <a href="http://www.artrabbit.com/uk/venues/programme&venue=2560" target="_blank">Diemar/Noble Photography</a>. Whilst I again have to declare an interest, as it’s a space I’m peripherally involved with, it has consistently exhibited a programme of challenging new photography alongside the provenance of classic and vintage shows.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Photography is finally being accepted, somewhat grudgingly, into the fine art club of this country and it’s about time. The immediacy of the medium has always troubled our arts establishment, despite our history as pioneers. With recent changes in technology, photography is now probably the most accessible of media to practitioners, collectors and enthusiasts. It is at the root of our new media and it’s universality and versatility ensure it’s relevance in the digital age. Most importantly, it allows diverse voices a platform and the entire contemporary programme at Diemar/Noble has surprised, entertained and proven to me unequivocally that there is some incredible talent in this city that has been criminally underrepresented. <a href="http://www.emilyallchurch.com/emily-allchurch.html" target="_blank">Emily Allchurch’s</a> elegant photographic reimaginings of Hiroshiga's Tokyo – which gained an unexpected resonance as it was opened during the Japan earthquake – and <i>Not The Chelsea Flower Show</i>, a group and ‘alternative flower show’, remain my standout exhibitions of the year. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Finally, there wasn’t a lot of new writing that nudged my interest in 2010, although that was likely more related the fact it was a busy year and haven’t had the concentration. As a result, I made a reacquaintance with a small pile of short story anthologies. This inevitably led me back to the science fiction I read hungrily through college – hungrily not only because it was a genre I’ve always loved as a guilty pleasure but also as I didn’t eat very much at college.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The Parallel worlds of DC Comic's Batwoman</i><br />
<i> and Murakami's IQ84 provided escapism </i><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">It’s interesting how appropriate Science Fiction feels right now. Some of the best Science Fiction works have come from the most challenging times, notably the apocalyptic mood of the 1950’s Cold War. Maybe it comes from the need to play out the best and worst possible scenarios, the utopian dreams and dystopian nightmares. I guess I’ve been looking backward to looking forward, or something.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">In a similar escapist and somewhat nostalgic vein, DC Comics decided to jump ahead of everyone else and choose this year to relaunch their entire universe in August. After picking up a few issues of the <a href="http://dcu.blog.dccomics.com/the-new-52/" target="_blank"><i>New 52</i></a>, primarily out of curiosity, I have since found myself buying monthly issues for the first time since I was 15. <i>Action Comics</i> and <i>Batwoman</i>, in particular, have done much to sate at least part of my appetite for bite sized words and if you have any patchy history of interest in comics or costumed heroics, I’d recommend revisiting some of these titles – at least before before the next reboot. In a year when the altogether more banal real world villainy of crooked politicians, predatory bankers and octogenarian Antipodean media moguls have once again managed to slip from the clutches of appropriate justice, it's satisfying to visit a world where some form of fitting reparation is assured.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The only new release of an actual novel that I managed to snare was <i>IQ84</i>, the new epic tome by Japanese writer Haruki Murakami. I suppose this story of a woman who realises she has accidentally travelled into an alternate reality actually isn’t a taxi ride that far away from Science Fiction either, albeit filtered through the sublime and slightly magic-surrealist lens of Murakami world.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">So, those were some recommendations plucked from my whirlwind 2011. With just a handful of gigs, movies and albums, alongside one book and a clutch of comics, it’s hardly exhaustive in terms of cultural commentary, or even particularly informative for that matter. Ultimately, it says more about my personal year than an authoritative judgement of the movies or books or whatnot of the year - just like every ‘Best of’ list or Review, really.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">All of which, brings me back to the New Years Eve. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">I guess if there’s been any kind of theme to the last year it’s been one of change. Change can be frightening if you resist it and fear it, but once you realise it’s a constant, it’s important to embrace it and take responsibility for making sure it’s leading somewhere positive and good. And so, while you’re all burning away the last year, be sure and take some time to pick through the ashes to gather up some of the best things from 2010 to bring with you into 2012.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">By the way, if any of you are having any wild, badass parties tonight, let me know…okay?</span></div>
</div>matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-6597776218859125852011-11-21T15:31:00.001-08:002012-05-13T15:33:36.024-07:00Strange Currency: Painting on Coins<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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</style><b><span style="font-size: small;">Since 2004, I have been painting miniature portraits of dictators and tyrants on two pence coins. What this steadily expanding little cohort of international undesirables share is that they have all, at some point in their respective careers, been supported economically or politically by the United Kingdom. </span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI7W26oXy50dmFsa067tsKDPFBrMaAnXfRMA0P2hhzGUyQwF8K-ePiUiFDk2a5zt6zGiNhn-qLBymQR_PkLRV8MLJ7UASP13epneufOmlbOG0z4iDgnuUvq62GtfyQcDRhg2dpI3uAE88/s1600/handfulofcoins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI7W26oXy50dmFsa067tsKDPFBrMaAnXfRMA0P2hhzGUyQwF8K-ePiUiFDk2a5zt6zGiNhn-qLBymQR_PkLRV8MLJ7UASP13epneufOmlbOG0z4iDgnuUvq62GtfyQcDRhg2dpI3uAE88/s320/handfulofcoins.jpg" width="283" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Following the tragic events of September 11th 2001, many people became aware that much of Bin Laden's £300 million fortune actually came from US and European investment in Bin Laden's <i>Maktab al-Khidimat</i> fighters to win the Afghan war and install a sympathetic government in the country. Similarly, the brutally corrupt regimes of Ferdinand Marcos in the Philippines, General Augusto Pinochet in Chile and Mobutu Sese Seko in Zaire, to name but a few, all benefitted from our patronage in return for the whichever flavour of loyalty was required at the time. <br /><br />The nurturing of questionable regimes for our own ends is a tradition that stretches way beyond our colonial past and is unlikely to end soon. It is ironic that are warned on a constant and spectacularly melodramatic basis that money spent on illicit contraband - from drugs to pirated music - is used to fund terrorism, war and aggravates third world exploitation, yet much less scrutiny is focused on the so-called legitimate use of the wealth we generate from our country. It is unquestionable that this kind of political expediency is a far more dangerous gamble, with a potentially far higher price to pay further down the line. <br /><br />On each coin, traditional headshots mirror the familiar profile of Queen Elizabeth that adorns the reverse side. Conceptually, the use of coins is a very obvious visual pun, but formally the work is heavily influenced by Victorian Miniatures and Locket portraiture. Cameos and miniatures were often commissioned as keepsakes for loved ones. In contrast to the grand gesture of the full-blown oil painted portrait they were a sign of a more intimate, often secretive, affection.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Alongside this,
the very use of a monetary unit as a canvas makes a gentle dig at the
notion of the art object as financial commodity. These works are of
immediate value to an audience beyond the galleristas and hipsters as
they have an intrinsic worth - in this case a two pence sterling. As a
result, they aren't going to get destroyed any time soon as no one
simply throws money away – literally - it is instead always passed on.
In some respects, I suppose these little works may well prove to be
amongst the most valuable I’ll ever make.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl_qDZzt-sowG2RJ5UgYQa3HmW0UC0K-3mddhZcxKIrd8u4mADNdIRSLX28KkDVIwQpoI1JxMaW1a1tA-oY3Vt6GXH_kZepvbImO3wIYcMC-d8CqJwZh7cAr8JHrSxqPgcJJ5DxnFmKSk/s1600/strangecurrencygroup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl_qDZzt-sowG2RJ5UgYQa3HmW0UC0K-3mddhZcxKIrd8u4mADNdIRSLX28KkDVIwQpoI1JxMaW1a1tA-oY3Vt6GXH_kZepvbImO3wIYcMC-d8CqJwZh7cAr8JHrSxqPgcJJ5DxnFmKSk/s1600/strangecurrencygroup.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Clockwise from top left: </b><br />
Jose Eduardo dos Santos (Angola, 1979-Present), General Augusto Pinochet (Chile, 1973-1990),<br />
Ferdinand Marcos (Philippines, 1965-1986), Saddam Hussein (Iraq, 1979-2003),<br />
Mobutu Sese Seko (Zaire, 1965-1997), Osama Bin Laden (Al-Qaeda, 1988-2011)</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Although I approach each portrait with as
much formal realism as my size 000 brush and the uneven copper surface
allows, the defacing of the coins draws on the techniques of classic art
intervention. These are objects intended for mass circulation, so my
initial intention was to paint and circulate the series over a period of
time, leaving anonymous recipients to draw their own conclusions for
the reasons behind the mystery appearance of the odd dictator in their
wallet, purse or palm. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">However, when the initial series was completed, I had invested such a disproportionate amount of time and effort in the diminutive paintings that the first twenty miscreants were instead framed and exhibited together at the <a href="http://www.96gillespie.com/" target="_blank">96 Gillespie Gallery</a> in North London. Since then I have slipped a dozen or so coins into circulation, including the accidental release of my first and favourite portrait of Jose Eduardo dos Santos of Angola, but have continued to add to the collection on an casual basis. Some of these newly minted are shortly to be exhibited again as part of Theresa Bruno's quirky <a href="http://theresabruno.squarespace.com/blog/2011/9/30/the-wallet-gallery.html" target="_blank">Wallet Gallery project</a>. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">If you are interested, but you don’t manage to catch them this time around, I can only offer some appropriate Northern advice – always check your change. </span></span></div>
<br /></div>matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-86979444240741394372011-11-19T09:25:00.001-08:002012-05-13T16:03:09.097-07:00The Strange Case of Philip K Dick & Other Movies Inspired by Classic Works of Science Fiction<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b><span style="font-size: small;">I recently watched <i>The Adjustment Bureau</i>, a movie ‘inspired’
by a story from Science Fiction writer Philip K Dick. It was an amiable romantic fantasy about love
and fate, in which Matt Damon plays a young senator whose chance encounter with
an impulsive young woman inadvertently leads him into conflict with sinister
forces who secretly govern our world.</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The notion of a mysterious conspiracy to control the fate of
the planet, along with their regulation 1950’s men-in-black wardrobe, is in keeping
with the cold war paranoid tone of Dick’s source material, but little else
bears more than a passing resemblance to the more sinister short story from
1954.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikdVV2NvfrCkij4OYDcmw74F-QN9Yk3WvHxx44iOst118xzbsyqWSmLAc__tgNEO4nKPtKeqHCmNmFPkyVAVCN9jIk72ZV4SMHMc-jMVJNAOyxHiKFK7I-74MYQTbwjJOS1_pRFZqgif8/s1600/PhilipKDick.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikdVV2NvfrCkij4OYDcmw74F-QN9Yk3WvHxx44iOst118xzbsyqWSmLAc__tgNEO4nKPtKeqHCmNmFPkyVAVCN9jIk72ZV4SMHMc-jMVJNAOyxHiKFK7I-74MYQTbwjJOS1_pRFZqgif8/s1600/PhilipKDick.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Philip Kindred Dick (1928-1982)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">He saw the light...and a portal to ancient</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Greece in his refrigerator.</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">From humble beginnings writing for pulpy magazines, when
Dick claimed that he “couldn’t even afford the late fees on a library book”,
the prolific PKD has risen in stature over the years since his death. In 2005, TIME magazine named <i>Ubik</i> one of the
hundred greatest English-language novels published since 1923. In 2007, Dick became the first science
fiction writer to be included in The Library of America series. Despite this literary and genre acclaim,
however, it is through the movie adaptations of his work that Dick has most
prominently entered the popular public consciousness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Dick’s posthumous rise to cinematic stardom began with
Ridley Scott’s <i>Blade Runner</i>, released in 1982, the year of Dick’s passing. Loosely based on the novel <i>Do Androids Dream
of Electric Sheep</i> (1968), the film depicts a dystopian Los Angeles in which the
powerful Tyrell Corporation manufacture genetically engineered robots called
replicants, visually indistinguishable from humans. Their use on Earth is
banned and the replicants are exclusively used for dangerous, menial or leisure
work on off-world colonies. Replicants who defy this ban and return to Earth
are hunted down and "retired" by police special operatives known as "Blade
Runners". The plot focuses on a group of recently escaped replicants
hiding in Los Angeles and the burnt out veteran Blade Runner, Rick Deckard
(Harrison Ford), who reluctantly agrees to take on one more assignment to hunt
them down.<i> </i></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Blade Runner (1982)</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i>Blade Runner</i> was a visual treat; a hardboiled detective
story reset to a dark and raindrenched future of deteriorating hi-tech and
oppressive neon. The narrative jumped ably between sporadic bursts of brutal
action and the more sombre reflections of a weary Deckard, his uncertainty over
his assignment and even his own humanity.
Although key scenes were replicated from Dick’s text, the broader world
around Deckard and his prey was stripped away in favour of the existential
detective story. The movie stays within
sight of the original story, although much is changed or excised – notably the
religious elements – and Scott himself admitted that he hadn’t actually read
the inspiration for Blade Runner. In
this case, Dick had the last laugh following an early screening of only major
adaptation of his work he would see in his lifetime. When asked what he thought of it, the
famously hallucinatory writer apparently reported simply that he “loved the
lightshow. It looked very cool.”<i> </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i>Blade Runner</i> was not an instant hit and took almost a decade
before it would creep from cult favourite to mainstream classic. It would not be until 1990 that the eventual
recognition of <i>Blade Runner</i> would see Dicks name once again bothering the
cinema marquees. This time, the
fragmented and dreamlike <i>We Can Remember It For You Wholesale</i> (1966) was
mangled into the hysterical Arnold Schwarzenegger vehicle <i>Total Recall</i>. In the hands of splatter satirist Paul
Verhoven, this was a high point for the Austrian muscle man and a lot of messy
fun, but took only the principle character, theme and outline as a starting
point for Verhoven’s own comic book stylism.</span></div>
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<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Three onscreen faces of Philip K Dick: Harrison Ford (Blade Runner), Matt Damon (The Adjustment Bureau)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">and Arnold Schwarzenegger (Total Recall)</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The successes of <i>Blade Runner</i> and <i>Total Recall</i> would see
casual cinemagoers begin to associate Dick’s name with intelligent yet muscular
science fiction – wild action with a little cerebral depth for good
measure. In an attempt to emulate the
following of these two movies, the rush to market his properties over the next
20 years would be staggering, but fuelled by a principle misconception: what
actually connected these two movies was not Phillip K Dicks writing, but the
work of auteur directors at the top of their game.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Neither movie was truly representative of Dick’s staggering
imagination, his unique blue collar spin on science fiction tropes or his wild
conspiratorial fantasies, but at least they were genuinely inspired by his work
and used key concepts, ideas and themes.
In stark contract, Dick’s tropes would be simplified to the point of
parody in the slew of adaptions to follow.<i> </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i>Screamers</i> (1995), <i>Impostor</i> (2001), <i>Minority Report</i> (2002),
<i>Paycheck</i> (2003) and <i>Next</i> (2004), amongst others, all recognise Dicks name as a
marketable property but demonstrated ever diminishing evidence of the original
stories. It’s probably unsurprising that
over half of all Dick’s adaptations to date are from short stories rather than
his substantial canon of novels, the most acclaimed of which remain unfilmed.
In a mess of good, bad and indifferent titles, the disappointment is that they
clearly attempt to reimagine Blade Runner or Total Recall, whilst somewhere
along the way, Dick became little more than a brand name and a handy double
entendre for reviewers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">It is interesting to note that the two most faithful
adaptions of Phil Dick’s writing to date are of books that contain the least
science fiction elements. <i>A Scanner
Darkly</i> (1977) does have the misdirection of a dystopian near-future setting and
a digital McGuffin that allows an undercover narcotics agent to conceal his
identity, but primarily this was a device that allowed Dick to pen a tribute to
the psychosis and paranoiac breakdown of the lost souls of early-Seventies
suburban Californian drug culture. In
his animated 1997 adaptation, director Richard Linklater clearly recognises
this and concentrates on the more domestic themes. Linklater follows Dick’s text closely,
concentrating on the characters and resisting the temptation to introduce any
additional action. The focus is firmly fixed on psychological rather than
phaser disintegration and the narrative is much stronger for it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Alongside this is the French film <i>Barjo</i> (1992), based on one
of Dick’s handful of non-science fiction novels, <i>Confessions of a Crap Artist</i>
(1977). Aside from the European
resetting, this tale of bitter and complex marital conflict in 50’s suburban
California, is a very faithful translation.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQfUloSx8ehsv_pZXrd9odmXTQzbf0GUTknPYaNv5rDoeGr-RUYwEpf87Fl7V-jyjXKUZsCP04U3UemS41dLuik4bTohwEhHGUkFL27ACTMyhnIQzI8thZnhX__UGwpwHwJkB0aINajiM/s1600/DuneIrobotbooks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQfUloSx8ehsv_pZXrd9odmXTQzbf0GUTknPYaNv5rDoeGr-RUYwEpf87Fl7V-jyjXKUZsCP04U3UemS41dLuik4bTohwEhHGUkFL27ACTMyhnIQzI8thZnhX__UGwpwHwJkB0aINajiM/s320/DuneIrobotbooks.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Neither Frank Herbert's 'Dune' nor Isaac Asimov's 'I, Robot'</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">would make it to the screen entirely intact</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<span style="font-size: small;">With this in mind, perhaps the problematic element is not
Dick’s sociological, political and metaphysical themes, but actually the genre
itself. On reflection, it becomes
startling apparent that, of all the many genres of fiction, science fiction
alone inspires such wilful lack of respect in movie adaptation. After all, Dick is not the only Science
Fiction luminary to suffer such shameless misrepresentation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">In the hands of David Lynch, Frank Herbert’s masterpiece
<i>Dune</i> (1965) became a typically Lynchian nightmare that takes extreme liberties
with the novel in the service of its somewhat psychedelic journey. It was long
hoped that Isaac Asimov’s similarly lauded and influential <i>I, Robot</i> stories would
make it intact to the screen, but the considered and respectful screenplay
developed for Warner Brothers by sci-fi writer Harlan Ellison was eventually
ditched in favour of using the title alone for an existing project originally
called <i>Hardwired</i>. This entirely
unrelated robot murder-mystery, once injected with a few additional references
to Asimov’s laws of robotics and populated by a few of Asimov’s characters and
Will Smith, stretches the credibility of the adaptation to breaking point. In the resultant 2004 feature, Asimov is
reduced to the indignity of a “suggested by” credit.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivYSzio7VkAA8P9by8151Cu9UFxwB6vtInD0_f0nVJWMICbpCMOm2bVkXMTjqml3l-3US_brj_7F0wEIKnNI3YYiVg1S7Htf36fJzxJubKQ8-951lclh6e0ajBdF73gWZ8xBwnhKCQWaQ/s1600/StevenSeagal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivYSzio7VkAA8P9by8151Cu9UFxwB6vtInD0_f0nVJWMICbpCMOm2bVkXMTjqml3l-3US_brj_7F0wEIKnNI3YYiVg1S7Htf36fJzxJubKQ8-951lclh6e0ajBdF73gWZ8xBwnhKCQWaQ/s320/StevenSeagal.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Steven Segal as I imagine he would look in</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">'Hard To Kill a Mockingbird'</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Few writers of equivalent stature outside of science fiction
have suffered such abuse. I admit, by
virtue of mass recognition alone, it’s probably understandable that the acknowledged
classics of literature have escaped such blatant disrespect. If, after several rewrites, an adaptation of
<i>Lord of the Flies</i> evolved into the time travelling adventure of a group of
young people lost on a mysterious island, their attempts to unravel the mystery
of a mysterious scientific initiative, hindered by attacks of a time-slipped
Tyrannosaurus Rex, I’m certain that William Golding’s name would be quietly
discarded. Likewise, Steven Segal waging
a one man war against a small town racist hit squad in Harper Lee’s <i>To Kill a
Mockingbird</i> is something I doubt that devotees of either Lee or Segal could
tolerate. Of course, there have been a multitude of cinematic reimaginings
based on classic tales, but even at the extreme and even when recast with
<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0377981/" target="_blank">garden gnomes</a> or <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0049223/" target="_blank">Leslie Nielson and space monsters</a>, the narratives of
Shakespeare are recognisably retained.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">It could be added that science fiction is a pulp genre of
niche interest which requires broadening in order to appeal to a popular
audience. Where this view immediately
falls over is in the comparatively faithful treatment of other pulp literary
genres, from the crime thriller to the western.
Even adaptations of lurid horror paperbacks are given better treatment.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Fans of the iconic horror writer Stephen King often rage
against the cinematic treatments of his canon.
Even Stanley Kubrick’s masterpiece <i>The Shining</i> (1980) is presented as an
example of the Hollywood brutalisation of his work. Whilst it is true that the narrative is
condensed and trimmed, Kubricks glacial visuals and Nicholsons unhinged
performance overwhelm and some plot elements are excised completely, the basic
story is at least maintained. In
comparison to the wholesale evisceration visited on translations of classic
works by Dick, Asimov or Clarke, <i>The Shining</i> renders King’s novel practically
verbatim.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I’m afraid the explanation may just be more cynical. The adaptation of established written works
will always be a challenge; the magic of the word allows the reader to conjure
their own images and own the look and landscape of familiar stories. A movie adaptation has to reconcile and
placate billions of very personal adaptations.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">With recognisable historical or contemporary settings, it is
much more likely that a realisation will land relatively close to audience
expectations. Conversely, Science
Fiction as a genre is persistently popular but often immensely hard to
visualise. A high level of creativity
and imagination is required to bring often wild and fantastical – thus very
personal - imagery onto the screen. I am
not going to repeat the familiar accusation that there is no creativity or
imagination left in popular cinema, but it does seem that, of all the creative
industries, this most lucrative medium appears to employ the highest
disproportion of distinctly uncreative people.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The end result is that those who lack imagination or
creativity are incapable of bringing the classics of the science fiction
writing to the screen with any resonance or recognisability, often
misunderstanding and reducing the work to the simplest narrative or lowest
common denominator. Alternately, as
demonstrated by <i>Total Recall</i> and <i>Blade Runner</i>, those filmmakers who are capable
of genuine artistry are unwilling to be confined by the desire to exercise the slavish restraint necessary to appeal to the
broadest audience and instead interpret these stories into their own very
personal creations. There is no shortage
of quality science fiction cinema unencumbered by source material. As an example, consider <i>Moon</i> and <i>Source Code</i>,
the first two rich and rewarding movies from director Duncan Jones. These original features evoke far more of the
spirit and tone of Phil Dick than the majority of lacklustre, officially
‘inspired by’ adaptions.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Regardless of the critical reception, as long as literary
adaptions open the wallets and purses of a built-in audience, they will
continue to be a mainstay of popular cinema.
The obvious butchery of science fiction only makes the gulf between
storytelling techniques more apparent, but it applies to all genres
equally. Perhaps fans of both words and
moving picture should take some comfort in the disparity of such adaptations,
as it proves the unique individuality of both media. In digitally obsessed times, it’s reassuring
to know that the written word still has a power that resists complete
translation.</span></div>
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</div>matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-70412133773245721802011-10-28T05:10:00.000-07:002012-02-14T06:35:38.735-08:00Why I love Halloween (and other Ghost Stories)<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>“Pleasure to me is wonder—the unexplored, the unexpected,
the thing that is hidden and the changeless thing that lurks behind superficial
mutability. To trace the remote in the immediate; the eternal in the ephemeral;
the past in the present; the infinite in the finite; these are to me the
springs of delight and beauty.” - H.P. Lovecraft</i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmhJroIp39sgE5hLW9vP86fOzDdYcMBOM26LqiEMW3waCUkd6gUlKCQKKglLuYPPTMy0l8BZ0oZcJcAOY1DGBZL1v_k-hKMepc5MpgJcZtF1PCosDjCMRTJa1eQ-ttwqPtxV15SHLWNqM/s1600/Pumpkin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="314" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmhJroIp39sgE5hLW9vP86fOzDdYcMBOM26LqiEMW3waCUkd6gUlKCQKKglLuYPPTMy0l8BZ0oZcJcAOY1DGBZL1v_k-hKMepc5MpgJcZtF1PCosDjCMRTJa1eQ-ttwqPtxV15SHLWNqM/s320/Pumpkin.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Of all the annual festivals, it is Halloween that most stirs
up memories of childhood excitement.</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Essentially a celebration to mark the end of the ‘season of
the sun’, Halloween is one of the oldest holidays with origins that can be
traced back thousands of years. It is
typically linked to the Celtic festival of <i>Samhain</i>,
a name historically kept by the Celts in the British Isles and derived from Old
Irish meaning ‘summer's end.’ Over time it was adopted into Roman culture as
<i>Pomona Day</i> and Christian culture as <i>All Hallows’ Eve</i>. In its contemporary form it has become a
somewhat playful celebration of mythology, horror and the occult, but the sense
still persists that this is the time of year when the physical and supernatural
worlds are closest and magical things might just happen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Whilst my Celtic antecedents may in part be responsible for my
occasional affinity with the pagan, I consider myself more rationalist than
religious. Nevertheless, it seems
entirely rational to me that we are unlikely to ever know or understand even a
fraction of the true nature of our existence.
Whilst trick-or-treating had not fully crossed the Atlantic when I was
of acceptable age to commit door-to-door candy extortion, I welcome the annual
herds of little zombies, miniature witches and midget vampires. They are a
reminder to recognise and celebrate the idea of mystery and the unknown – a
reminder that becomes even more important as we become untethered from the
spiritual certainties of our cosy old Monotheism. It is essential that, in a
Godless word, we should still retain the humbling presence of mystery.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">My childhood Halloween was mainly a time for parties and the
cheap thrills of age-inappropriate horror movies. <i>Night of the Creeps</i>, <i>Dawn of
the Dead</i> and, of course, John Carpenter’s <i>Halloween</i> are all fondly remembered
October classics. It makes me nostalgic
for a time when even a battered video cassette of the truly craptacular
space-horror <i>Inseminoid</i> was momentarily an event movie.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">While gory and garish Horror movies may not appeal to
everyone, they form an extension of seasonal folk storytelling. The compelling and near universal draw of the
simple ghost story once again speaks of our need for mystery. Observe how even
the most egotistical and self-centred gatherings can be brought to hushed
attention by a tale of the inexplicable, supernatural or strange incidence. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">It seems that almost everyone has at least one short
incident or vignette to share. I’m
somewhat sceptical in my outlook, but there is at least one story in my past
that refuses to fit neatly into my rational little worldview. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I was probably 14 or 15 and was spending the night with a
group of friends in bivouacs in the nearby woods of Thornthwaite on the edge of
the Yorkshire Dales. We were all
scattered in an individual favoured spot all around the base of the valley,
lost amongst in the thick spiky tangle of conifer trees.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">When our fire died and we ran out of stolen cigarettes and
teenage wit and wisdom to share, we all separated off to sleep. I don’t remember actually sleeping, so I
can’t have been long settled in the uncomfortable hole I’d quickly and lazily
covered over with brush and leaves when was started by a scream.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Assuming it was a friend, I set off to investigate. It turned out I was right as I found out
later that my friend’s equally slapdash shelter had collapsed, but I didn’t discover
this until morning because I immediately became hopelessly lost.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I suppose I was half asleep as, although the woods were
modest in size and should have been familiar, I became so disorientated that I
couldn’t find my way forward or back.
There was an eerie stillness and deep blue tint that seemed entirely
alien. I was just starting to worry when
I saw a flickering light in the trees ahead.
Thinking this was one of my friends, I called out and the light started
to move, blinking between the tree trunks. As I followed the light with my own
torch beam, I realised that I was turning on the spot as it circled completely
around me. At that point the light
blinked out. I was just a little
disturbed and ran away in the opposite direction, through the woods and past a
long square modern building with the lights still glowing through the windows.
I paused a moment to consider whether I could find help inside. Catching my
breath, I suddenly felt rather embarrassed about the whole thing. By now I was in the scattered broadleaves on
the edge of the open fields. From this
vantage point, it seemed simple to rediscover my bearings. I lifted my torch to
the treeline and shone it straight at what at first glance appeared to be a
face. I froze and stared, waiting for the illusion to fade. With terror, I realised the edge of the woods
was now seemingly populated with vague but tangible figures, waiting still, as
if frozen at the field break and unable to advance further. I kept staring,
convinced it was a trick of branch and shadow, but they were clearly there,
staring back at me.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-q-TbuKcxlepZAO5rmNA31V-8_EZ88LHPJ_SRAkhec31Onbh-0cJM_jxh-XcG_V7pCWFTckqkLYYmacrU11dXxObVb9NQs2fWIonoSKpBRyL84AZNfPj8_c9fXC15mGArpM_7NqXdptI/s1600/scooby-doo2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-q-TbuKcxlepZAO5rmNA31V-8_EZ88LHPJ_SRAkhec31Onbh-0cJM_jxh-XcG_V7pCWFTckqkLYYmacrU11dXxObVb9NQs2fWIonoSKpBRyL84AZNfPj8_c9fXC15mGArpM_7NqXdptI/s320/scooby-doo2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">At this point, I snapped, ran furiously across the field and
spent a sleepless night in our fortuitously pitched tent near the
roadside. In the morning, I sheepishly
had to explain my sudden retreat and had to endure a fair amount of
ridicule. I had to conclude that my
experience was a mix of <a href="http://www.skepdic.com/pareidol.html">Pareidolia</a> and night terror, but it shook me enough to
remember it with incredible clarity, even now, close to 20 years later. The
oddest thing about the whole experience – and the thing that interested my
friends most at the time – was the incongruous modern building. Noone can recall it ever being there and, on
reflection, I have no idea what or where it was. Later, I’d reinterpret this
little tale as alien, phantom or otherwise supernatural, depending on my
interest at the time. But while Tolkien,
Argento or Castaneda may have influenced the odd creative flourish here and
there, the fact remains that it is, for me, an entirely inexplicable event of
non-specific weirdness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">There is an odd mixture of unease and excitement that comes
from both the telling and the listening to stories such as this. In some deep and instinctual way our
fascination is rooted in our need for mystery that transcends the mundane. Especially now, in this time of elephantine
vanity and greed, it is a comfort to know that the world is not and never will
be wholly knowable or controllable. Faced with a dark and endless universe,
where black planets roll without aim and a vast and nameless void defies our
comprehension, we find ourselves, friend and foe alike, just a little more
equal and huddled just a little closer together for comfort…and isn’t that
alone a good reason to welcome a little more mystery into our lives?</span></div>matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-16927509119475102342011-10-03T15:48:00.000-07:002011-10-03T16:15:13.358-07:00Slow Train Coming: Bob Dylan on the Northern Line<style>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2GVcV4_75uhyBsi2lAt6n8CEN2AfzTBkDkw56RFrJIsXUnXtrxUrrNmBPnhNwsVRzu8cRwmAIBbhpUCeh5gKHepX7zY_ajGiDOqF-0g2sgnu-RLwYarIVvcl-fqspEr2hRXEVMYg-HUE/s1600/dylantubesign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2GVcV4_75uhyBsi2lAt6n8CEN2AfzTBkDkw56RFrJIsXUnXtrxUrrNmBPnhNwsVRzu8cRwmAIBbhpUCeh5gKHepX7zY_ajGiDOqF-0g2sgnu-RLwYarIVvcl-fqspEr2hRXEVMYg-HUE/s200/dylantubesign.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>I hear my train a-comin'</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b><span style="font-size: small;">Partially inspired by Simon Patterson’s artwork <i><a href="http://www.tate.org.uk/servlet/ViewWork?workid=21700">The Great Bear (1992)</a> </i>- in which he retitled the tube stations on the iconic map of the
London Underground with a collection of cultural figures - I’ve spent many
uncomfortable hours delayed on the tube devising more appropriate names for the
various stops across the capital. This
kind of psychogeography is not only useful for keeping commuter sanity in
check, but also fascinating in how easily familiar landmarks reveal
distinct personalities.</span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I’m particularly intrigued by how the Northern Line, running
from south to north London, seems to act as a rather neat narrative mirror to
the career of folk icon Bob Dylan. I
would assume this to be an act of accidental symmetry rather than an elaborate
subversion by some Dylan obsessed rail planner - however, if you'll indulge me,
it bears closer scrutiny:</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: small;">The Early Years, 1959-1963 (Morden to Kennington)</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9RF7OFfAOQo2gIsZLt3YojaTG5tujqdkX_PAHnMBls1oYezve5tFPm5A3pa-Id8GzgnSTq2AW8eb2Y3ZCS7ewmT3cDpVNCZqtCg1vDaEenWy16Z8xWhwzOa17VjqMF78QHbPy31rH_-4/s1600/times-they-are-a-changin-bob-dylan-vinyl-cover-art.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9RF7OFfAOQo2gIsZLt3YojaTG5tujqdkX_PAHnMBls1oYezve5tFPm5A3pa-Id8GzgnSTq2AW8eb2Y3ZCS7ewmT3cDpVNCZqtCg1vDaEenWy16Z8xWhwzOa17VjqMF78QHbPy31rH_-4/s200/times-they-are-a-changin-bob-dylan-vinyl-cover-art.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>The Tube lines,</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>we are a-changin' (1964)</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: small;">With little indication of the long and winding career ahead
of him, Robert Allen Zimmerman was born to a suburban middle class family in
Duluth, Minnesota. Similarly, our
journey begins in the suburban middle class suburbs of Wimbledon - two
relatively unassuming locations whose primary identification is with sporting
events.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Zimmerman moved to Minneapolis in September 1959 and
enrolled at the University of Minnesota, where his early focus on rock and roll
gave way to an interest in American folk music. In January 1961, he travelled
to New York City – moving eastwards from the rural to the urban. Travelling from Wimbledon to Clapham, we do
much the same.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Soon, we find ourselves in the diverse international
communities of Stockwell, Kennington and Elephant & Castle, reflecting not
only on Dylan's appropriation of Black music and the roots of rythmn and blues,
but also the adoption of the working class protest song. This formative cultural mix is clearly
reflected in <i>Bob Dylan (1962)</i>, which drew heavily on familiar folk, blues and
gospel material and featured only two original compositions. This came to
fruition with the release of his second album, <i>The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan
(1963)</i>, in which he first began to make his name as both performer and songwriter.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: small;">Going Electric, 1964-1979 (Waterloo to Tottenham Court Road)</span></b></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGJJYsjHUiShZ1AjwRbWiszuMEJn2YrhI-J0ayOQmE0SLW57Mkj1vyaYmHTUTypJ6Zs8Zk4C9vhPSQcl87a2l3aC9Ug35Z_MKXZNJ3O782R_3Fnlz0e_Ct2S652G54dsf3VUTyXWn9Uno/s1600/bob_dylan_highway61.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGJJYsjHUiShZ1AjwRbWiszuMEJn2YrhI-J0ayOQmE0SLW57Mkj1vyaYmHTUTypJ6Zs8Zk4C9vhPSQcl87a2l3aC9Ug35Z_MKXZNJ3O782R_3Fnlz0e_Ct2S652G54dsf3VUTyXWn9Uno/s1600/bob_dylan_highway61.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>In London rush hour traffic, </i></span></div>
<i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">the roads are just not an option (1965)</span></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">As we reach the bustling crowds of Waterloo, we join Dylan
at his first peak of popularity.
Standing on the concourse of this busy national terminal, lost amongst a
crush of humanity, we can probably share Dylans bewilderment as he found
himself standing alone on a pedestal of unexpected and unwelcome adulation.</span></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>Another Side of Bob Dylan (1964) r</i>eflected a lighter mood,
hinting at a rejection of the role being forced upon him and suggested the
shift to rock and roll soon to dominate Dylan's music. Like us, he was looking longingly at the
bright lights and carefree delights waiting across the river and was
increasingly eager to cross over.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">In the latter half of 1964 and 1965, Dylan's appearance and
musical style changed rapidly as he made his move from leading contemporary
songwriter of the folk scene to folk-rock pop-music star. Scruffy jeans and
work shirts were replaced by a Carnaby Street wardrobe as he prepared for his
night on the town. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">This transformation would culminate with the infamous 1966
Free Trade Hall concert in England, touring in support of <i>Highway 61 Revisited
(1965)</i>. The evening would climax with a
member of the audience, angered by Dylan's electric backing, shouting: "Judas!" </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Dylans response to this was a terse "I
don't believe you, you're a liar!" before promptly turning to his band
with the demand to "play it fucking loud!"</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">With the cries of the folk purists ringing in our ears, we
follow Dylan to the Embankment, the gateway of the West End. Initially, the excitement of this new musical
freedom was responsible for a whole slew of eclectic delights, including <i>Blonde
on Blonde (1966)</i>,<i> Blood on the Tracks (1975)</i> and <i>Desire (1976)</i>.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Likewise, the West End is indeed an initially impressive
glittering palace of hedonistic delights.
However, by the time we reach Tottenham Court Road, it becomes all too
apparent how precariously the area clings to the vibrancy of the past. Here, grand historic facades give shelter to
cheap gift shops, tourist traps and faceless chain stores, the very embodiment
of <i>Self Portrait (1970) </i>and <i>Street Legal (1978)</i>, lurking in the otherwise
vintage years of Dylans back catalogue.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Anyone who has spent a moment too long in London’s West End
will recognise his weary reflection on the decade: "I was on the road for
almost five years. It wore me down. I was on drugs, a lot of things…just to
keep going, you know?"</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEOAYCjIHUrQikN9UNCsSoUKhA6GcX08D6ukmVpN7yXYLPIfbVb68lurhnV73cE-Vqz6sF7S3eot1RrLwBR-1hiqq5bDqTAPWJksSgKCKLxQ1FjcT1A-jDRNmMG0A5CvbWUKGuUm30BK4/s1600/slowtrain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEOAYCjIHUrQikN9UNCsSoUKhA6GcX08D6ukmVpN7yXYLPIfbVb68lurhnV73cE-Vqz6sF7S3eot1RrLwBR-1hiqq5bDqTAPWJksSgKCKLxQ1FjcT1A-jDRNmMG0A5CvbWUKGuUm30BK4/s200/slowtrain.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Slow Train Coming (1979)</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b><span style="font-size: small;">The Lost Years, 1979-1989 (Goodge Street to Euston)</span></b><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Eventually, hedonism, a motorbike accident & born-again Christianity took it's toll and we find ourselves <i>down in the groove</i> of an
unmemorable 1980’s identity crisis. This unloved era is clearly shared in architectural empathy by the ugly
transitory transit stations of Goodge Street, Warren Street and Euston. It is here you will find the critically
reviled follies of <i>Empire Burlesque (1985)</i> and <i>Knocked Out Loaded (1986)</i>.</span><b><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></b><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></b><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Rediscovery & Reflection, 1990-Present (Camden Town to North London)</span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></b><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Moving swiftly onwards, if there is one stop on the line
most truly representative of snatching Dylan-esque pop-cultural reinvention
from the jaws of defeat, it is our next destination: Camden Town. From hippies,
to mods, to punks, to goths and all manner of subsequent post-millennial
suburban kids with guitars, Camden is endlessly rediscovered by new
generations. Dylan likewise entered the
1990’s reinvigorated by the rediscovery of his canon by a new generation of
listeners. The next few years saw him returning the favour by returning to his
roots with two minor but successful albums covering old folk and blues numbers:
<i>Good as I Been to You (1992)</i> and <i>World Gone Wrong (1993)</i>.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Finally, North London sees Dylan returning home in a number
of ways. Pausing to reconcile with his Jewish identity in Finchley, he nears
High Barnet and Mill Hill with a period of suburban reflection on his long
journey. It is here we leave the 21st
Century Dylan to focus on the reissues of his back catalogue, his roots radio
show and other legacy recordings.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">In the course of this journey, Bob Dylan has become one of
the most important and profoundly influential figures in the popular music and
culture of five decades. I have, once
again, just barely made it to another meeting on time.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">In conclusion, I am concerned that I am wasting too much of
my life on trains.</span></div>
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matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-64666053123068209932011-09-28T16:06:00.000-07:002011-09-28T16:56:11.671-07:00Short Eyes: Subverting the Jukebox Musical<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-size: small;">The Jukebox Musical has taken over theatreland. It would seem almost every major popular
music artist from the last 50 years, from Elvis and Abba to Madonna and Queen,
feature in thinly veiled tribute shows stitched together by increasingly flimsy
narratives. </span></b><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Whilst it might be easy to dismiss the Jukebox Musical as
theatre for people who don’t like theatre, featuring music for people who don’t
like music, it’s hard to deny the popularity of a genre that consistently draws
coachloads of eager audiences night after night. Whilst in Melbourne earlier this year, I
admit I was lured to <i>Rock of Ages</i> by the promise of a night of absurd 80’s hair
metal and I enjoyed it thoroughly. Deep
down I knew it was wrong and I knew it was the equivalent of a fast food burger
or a pornographic movie – a pre-packaged, safe, sterile and weak imitation of a
real thing – but it was disposable fun that delivered cheap thrills exactly as promised.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Whilst it is easy to snobbishly criticise any popular art
form, perhaps, at a time when even critically acclaimed new theatre is failing
to find an audience and attendances are dwindling, it is better to look at how
this odd mutant genre is succeeding.
Maybe it even has the potential to be subverted and grow into something
altogether more positive and healthy.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">If new audiences are flocking to the Jukebox Musical, why
not use the form to revive a genuinely challenging piece of theatre? Why can’t serious and provocative themes
coexist within the crowd pleasing greatest hits of an artist or era?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">It’s easier done that you might imagine. Consider, for instance, the sleeping giant of
potential Jukebox Theatre: The Soul Hits of the 70’s. If a genre can pack a dancefloor at the most
hipster nightclub and the squarest wedding party alike, then surely it will
draw the crowds onstage. Furthermore,
beneath the familiar breaks, beats, funky bass and sweet honey vocals, there
lurks a breadth of social commentary and personal confessional, just ripe for
narrative exploitation.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJnuSFqr1Wuo-8c2hf-JMj6t5Kvn1EBIpoyGOZaCbcfrmf05vJZAdkWtiVO1ZLsgF7QypDnqh77ItIew7gYfpoq2r6pxZ3DM_-VpfSk4rvrqx20pZ9by0XoaQfuyxWAQ89O0ozeiu1DZY/s1600/Short_Eyes_%25281977_film%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJnuSFqr1Wuo-8c2hf-JMj6t5Kvn1EBIpoyGOZaCbcfrmf05vJZAdkWtiVO1ZLsgF7QypDnqh77ItIew7gYfpoq2r6pxZ3DM_-VpfSk4rvrqx20pZ9by0XoaQfuyxWAQ89O0ozeiu1DZY/s400/Short_Eyes_%25281977_film%2529.jpg" width="258" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">A perfect vehicle for this musical back catalogue already
exists in <i>Short Eyes</i>, a 1974 drama written by playwright Miguel Piñero. Short Eyes, prison slang for a paedophile,
was written for a prisoners' writing workshop during Pinero's incarceration for
armed robbery. The play was nominated
for six Tony Awards. It won the New York Critics Circle Award and an Obie Award
for the "best play of the year". </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The play was also a success in
Europe and catapulted Piñero to literary fame.
In 1977, it was adapted for a film and soul legend Curtis Mayfield composed
and performed the acclaimed soundtrack, the lyrics of which already provide an
inescapably funky narrative. Insert the soundtrack
into the performance, integrate a wider spectrum of popular hits from the era
and suddenly you have an explosive combination.<i> </i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>Short Eyes</i> begins with Clark Davis, a middle-class white man,
accused of raping a young girl. An
ensemble performance of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8fu8f9vYyDs"><i>Short Eyes/Freak, Freak, Free, Free, Free (Curtis Mayfield)</i></a>, led by the father of the victim, narrates Davis’ journey from
courtroom to custody at unnamed House of Detention in New York City. We are
then introduced to this new harsh reality with an inmate led performance of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vy56BvFDgEE"><i>Do Do Wap is Strong in Here (Curtis Mayfield)</i></a>.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The prisoners are predominately black or Puerto Rican and
Davis is notably conspicuous. Furthermore, Paedophiles are considered the
lowest form of prison life and fellow inmates immediately turn against
him. Davis is kept separate from the
other prisoners, who become increasingly threatening toward him at every
opportunity. This imbues their frustrated
performance of <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3rP3Hi1f7Og"><i>I Can’t Get Next to You (The Temptations)</i></a> with a sinister undercurrent.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">At this point, Davis still maintains he is innocent of the
crime and invites the audience to empathise with his situation in a poignant <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3yAN3koZ6fA"><i>Nobody Wants You When You’re Down and Out (Bobby Womack)</i></a>.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">His only friend is Juan, one of the institution's older
prisoners, who treats him with kindness and dignity. Juan is a quiet and thoughtful man, a devout
Catholic resigned to atoning for his past sins. He performs <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hMJ2nt162mM&feature=related"><i>Mercy Mercy Me (Marvin Gaye)</i></a> alone in a moment of world-weary reflection.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Eventually, Davis takes Juan into his confidence. Although he insists he doesn't remember
raping the girl, he admits that he has molested several other children. Nevertheless, the case against him is weak
and, unless Juan tells prison authorities about Davis' confessions to him, it
is only a matter of time before he is set free. As Juan struggles with the right thing to do,
the other prisoners plan to rid themselves of Davis permanently, with the
Gospel tinged <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=20HmSomEHZ0"><i>Are You Ready? (Pacific Gas and Electric)</i></a> building toward the
climax.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Further musical possibilities are endless – I would
certainly find a way to include Curtis Mayfield’s apocalyptic <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x1xmXOP3lhM"><i>If There’s a Hell Below…</i></a> - but I think you get the idea.
By the time the curtain falls, the audience has had their butts and
their emotions shaken in equal measure, perhaps the latter even moreso through
being presented by stealth. Far from
being an object of derision, this genre has the potential to reach out, challenge
and enrich audiences far more diverse than the usual informed clutch of regular
theatregoers – and isn’t that what theatre should aspire to if its to thrive?</span></div>
matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-10131608516491660582011-09-22T15:34:00.000-07:002011-09-28T16:22:50.022-07:00Hanging with the Ripperologists<style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>"If the desire to kill and the opportunity to kill came
always together, who would escape hanging?" -Mark Twain</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Even 200 years and countless homicidal atrocities later, the
murder of five Whitechapel prostitutes by the tantalisingly anonymous 19th
century serial killer known as Jack the Ripper continues to fascinate. </b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Initially confined to the seedy streets of Nineteenth
century Whitechapel, the ubiquitous Ripper now haunts endless academic papers,
books of fact and fiction, popular movies and internet discussion forums.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The psychotic artist formerly known as ”Springheel Jack”
quite literally carved his way into history with the murder and mutilation of
five prostitutes in the East End of London over a period of just three months
in late 1888.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Insatiable public interest in the macabre ensured that
these grim little acts have become the substance of folklore. The Ripper is often cited at the first modern serial killer,
a phrase which implies that the Whitechapel murders marked some kind of
Renaissance within the psychotic community.
This idea is absurd in the extreme, as the human race has exhibited a
timeless brutality - the Ripper is rather one of the first celebrity psychopaths, whose exploits were covered in excitable and frenzied detail by fledgling tabloids.
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioCfISNPlQ8SBWYbFhd8bpi7auJGdrQ9C7jg8nDJcQMmZGu7tfl17c6E3B4cTDgV_ZV2-MxfunfElFXDo4ablROqtJDhsfC8M14MHXM8tX7nwi86zL8Id6qIgLC3kSV412l6_NfmA8cVc/s1600/JackTheRipper.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioCfISNPlQ8SBWYbFhd8bpi7auJGdrQ9C7jg8nDJcQMmZGu7tfl17c6E3B4cTDgV_ZV2-MxfunfElFXDo4ablROqtJDhsfC8M14MHXM8tX7nwi86zL8Id6qIgLC3kSV412l6_NfmA8cVc/s320/JackTheRipper.gif" width="270" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Jack...er...ripping.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>I guess "Jack the Stabber" didn't have</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>the same ring to it </i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The sheer scale of the notoriety of the Ripper was
primarily due to the fact that he was the prototype psychopathic media
darling. Long before grotesque
Gein, Manson, Micky and Mallory, hapless
Harold Shipman or Fred and Rose West, the popular press transformed the Ripper
crimes into salacious theatre. The
detailed news reports became episodic in nature, with each killing forming a new
chapter, eagerly awaited by the public audience. This wealth of spurious conjecture and information ensures that, even 200 years later, academic preoccupation concerning the
identity of Jack the Ripper persists.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Amongst the conspiracy theorists and there are a number of
particular obsessions involving the mystery still periodically ignite
debate. In ignoring the myriad of social
and political problems that the twenty-first century has inherited, it would seem
there are still far too many people with too much time on their hands.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">A popular spin on the fable asserts that the
Ripper was in some way connected to a much broader conspiracy involving the
Church, the Masons or the Royal Family. This is often associated with belief that the Ripper was actually some notable Victorian whose
identity was kept concealed in order to preserve the reputation of that figure. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The most highly pubicised Ripper Expose of recent times came
with crime writer Patricia Cornwells book <a href="http://www.blogger.com/%20http://www.amazon.com/Portrait-Killer-Jack-Ripper-Closed/dp/0399149325"><i>Portrait of a Killer</i></a> – which was marketed with the
tagline <i>Jack the Ripper – Case Closed. </i>
You may insert exclamation marks as you wish.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">In applying a scientific criminological approach to history, we are
remained of Karl Poppers assertion that scientific theory, and human knowledge generally, is
irreducibly conjectural or hypothetical, and is generated by the
creative imagination in order to solve problems that have arisen in
specific historical or cultural settings. Ripper suspects may only be analysed according to relative possibility -
could they have been physically capable - and relative plausibility - is there
any reason for their actions.
Ultimately, this analytical structure only allows potential suspects to
be compared as being more or less probable.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUFbllbSe6gj71ZpidxhNPp5yEgcMw9uDhqQ566nPyqdqpMqJYoc11ZrjxjA17Mteqgz1qCuxE31zCLxA48-mztHU4qsD66vbJT4P7ieml8bicOUXIwzp3a9owQOQMSkQGPgDRCL1SK-k/s1600/time_after_time.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUFbllbSe6gj71ZpidxhNPp5yEgcMw9uDhqQ566nPyqdqpMqJYoc11ZrjxjA17Mteqgz1qCuxE31zCLxA48-mztHU4qsD66vbJT4P7ieml8bicOUXIwzp3a9owQOQMSkQGPgDRCL1SK-k/s320/time_after_time.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><style>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>HG Wells
pursues Jack the Ripper to the 20th Century </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>in his time machine in 'Time After Time' (1979<span style="font-size: small;">)</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Cornwell's book accuses painter Walter Sickert of the Ripper crimes and admittedly makes a rather compelling case, at least within the parameters of possibility and plausibility.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">To claim that this is a<i> case closed</i>, however, is a fiction; as is the case with all Ripperology. The only way that modern science can resolve a cold case lacking in all hard evidence and whose protagonists are long since dead is with a time machine and we all know <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0080025/">how that turned out</a>.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The moment we observe history, we project our own narrative and inadvertently fill in the voluminous blanks with our own stories. To demonstrate, using only the historical information available to me in the public domain and armed only with a Fine Art degree, an overactive imagination and the fact I am an East London resident, please allow me to present my own solution to the the Jack the Ripper mystery. </span></div>
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</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Samuel Langhorne Clemens, later to become rather more
well-known under the pen-name of "Mark Twain," was born in Florida, Missouri, on November 30th, 1835.
He was considered as being the both one of the foremost American philosophers
and humorists of his time. Later he was acknowledged as America's chief man of
letters and during the late 19th century he was deemed as her best known and
best loved citizen. He also had the means, motive and opportunity to be responsible for the crimes of Jack the Ripper.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">First and most clearly verifiable, Twain certainly had the <i>opportunity</i>. He made regular documented trips to Europe during the latter
part of the century and, astonishingly, these neatly
and rather chillingly coincide with the Whitechapel murders.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Next, it is also surprisingly easy to establish <i>means</i>, as Twain's profile neatly fits in with more modern revisions of the
Ripper Myth. Initially, much was made of
the anatomical precision with which the Victims were dissected, leading to the general belief that the Ripper was
medically trained. However, contemporary
analysis of both the evidence and photographic records has led pathologists to
suggest that rather than a suffering a clinical dissection, the victims were
quite literally butchered.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Where organs had been removed, the victim had first had
their throat slit and allowed to bleed, before any further wounds were
inflicted. This has much in common with
general slaughterhouse practices before mass mechanisation of the process,
where an animal would be bled first so that the butchering could take place
unhindered by a messy excess of blood.
This would of course make the removal of organs and butchery of the
carcass much neater and more effective.
In the rural communities of Tennessee, Twain would be no stranger to
these practices and as a farmhand would undoubtedly have assisted in them. It must also be emphasised that the so-called
“surgical removal” of organs in the Ripper case was only judged against the
fairly brutal surgical practices of the time.
With a basic knowledge of livestock butchery and a working knowledge of
anatomy – which most learned individuals would have had - the crude dissections of the victims would
have been relatively easy.</span><br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7me9u2MpSDNn4zXyYg7fglHSabPvZRCD6_KeUeeE9snCturqNZQzbtbIdZQA05qxOoqd4gg4W629GZAHUPcFodyc-vRjGLFD3Ud7GF4HW1T3l7b4Ihe3oMdlESo0GxewPEteaVvdPyg/s1600/jack-the-ripper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7me9u2MpSDNn4zXyYg7fglHSabPvZRCD6_KeUeeE9snCturqNZQzbtbIdZQA05qxOoqd4gg4W629GZAHUPcFodyc-vRjGLFD3Ud7GF4HW1T3l7b4Ihe3oMdlESo0GxewPEteaVvdPyg/s400/jack-the-ripper.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Jack the Ripper, MD </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>A persistent, but fanciful, myth</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">Also weakening the “Psycho Surgeon” theory are the police
records which suggest that the Ripper probably used only one large knife –
possibly a broad bladed hunting knife – in all the known killings except the
final murder of Mary Jane Kelly, where a second weapon was used.
This is often believed a hatchet or small axe – hardly a precision
instrument. These are not the specialist
tools of the doctor or surgeon and do not fit with the image of the sinister
gentlemen, in cloak and top hat, stalking Whitechapel with a Gladstone bag containing a
selection of scapels and other diabolical surgical tools. In fact this image of the Ripper is pure
fiction – an early myth that was actually invented by a London journalist to
support his own fanciful theory - with no credible police or medical statement
ever supporting the particulars of this fanciful but enduring modus operandi.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Twain and the Ripper were left-handed and Twain was certainly no
stranger to brutality. In his youth, Twain
was well known as a brawler and favoured a hunting knife as his weapon of
choice.
Even as late as 1864, he had to flee Nevada after challenging a rival newspaper editor to a duel. Whilst not acknowledged as a
murderer, he had fought, albeit very briefly, for the South in the early stages of
the American Civil War and undoubtedly killed.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Finally, the biggest challenge is to establish the </span><i style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">motive</i>. It is generally agreed that the killings were
sexual motivated, in that the victims were all female, involved in prostitution and
the mutilations focused on the sexual organs; he cut out the uterus's of many
of his victims, after opening the body cavity at the genitals with a knife or
blade. However, whilst these actions
displayed hate towards women in general, there was never any direct evidence of
rape or other sexual interaction. The
motivation seemed to stem not from an impotent frustration towards sex itself,
but to an uncontrollable frustration directed towards the female.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Twains views on women are well known and his misogynism has been thoroughly discussed by other theorists. In her book <i>Mothers and Others: Myths of the
Female in the Works of Melville, Twain & Hemingway</i>, Wilma Garcia sees
"recurrent elements in Twain's treatment of women", including their
"overdependence on language. Women and girls talk too much". These are simplistic accusations, but provides ample evidence that Twain found constant irritation in feminine traits. Essentially, she finds this is manifested in
Twain's literary presentation of the female as consistantly
"stereotypical". She writes that Twains women consist of “silly schoolgirls,
fussbudget widows, narrow-minded old maids and victimized or harried
housewives, with an occasional bright tomboy or perceptive older woman as
exceptions to the rule that women are at best inane and incompetent, at worst
mean-spirited and oppressive, but almost always incomprehensible by any
rational standard.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">A misogynist attitude was hardly unique in the late
19th century and misogyny alone does not implicate Twain, but it does provide a compelling backdrop to the dreadful events of 1888. On February 2nd 1870 Twain married Olivia Langdon and –
bolstered by the crital and financial success of <i>Innocents Abroad</i> – decided it
was time to settle down and start a family.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzJy9LVsMJItN7rA3J1t6ekTtyUtR6HTdyoei8jqUkKwD2Q9DLsda-oF0ZlJejdgZica8Q0nJC6h4PX4E4Nt-nxLbdZOBNr68GmX78LeptaonnByz7oiqZVOR3efaDeXvbxJyDc59hvbc/s1600/mark-twain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzJy9LVsMJItN7rA3J1t6ekTtyUtR6HTdyoei8jqUkKwD2Q9DLsda-oF0ZlJejdgZica8Q0nJC6h4PX4E4Nt-nxLbdZOBNr68GmX78LeptaonnByz7oiqZVOR3efaDeXvbxJyDc59hvbc/s1600/mark-twain.jpg" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Mark Twain </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The face of a killer?</i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Twain hoped for a son and in November that year it seemed
his wishes had been granted with the birth of his first child, a baby boy they
named Langdon Clemens. Sadly, little Langdon was never a
strong child. By the end of the following year the Clemenses had arranged for a
residence in Hartford, temporary at first, later made permanent. It was in
Hartford that Langdon died of diphtheria, in 1872.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Twain had always wanted a son, yet that Olivia would subsequently give birth to three daughters. The death of Langdon was said to cause a very
noticable shift in Twains mood and behaviour and it also coincided with the intense period of travel during which Twain eventually ensure he was in London during the Ripper crimes.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The murder of Mary Kelly in November 1888 marked the final
slaying attributed to the Ripper. Whilst
there has been an attempt to connect the Ripper to subsequent killings of
prostitutes, there is no evidence to support that the same individual continued
his murderous spree either in Whitechapel or elsewhere. The Ripper simply vanished.</span></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">This leads to several assumptions. Most obviously, one could assume that the
Ripper simply stopped killing. Study of
psychopathic behaviour is inclined to disagree with this, in that Serial
Killers are generally a victim to their own incontrollable urges and are unable
to control their own behaviour until caught.
It is deemed more likely that the Ripper was himself killed – either
through suicide, natural causes or in an accident – or apprehended and
incarcerated for another unrelated crime.
Finally, the Ripper could simply have moved elsewhere, a sensible move
considering the attention he was causing in the Metropolis. The latter suggestion, combined with short
period with which the killings began and ended, supports the theory that the
killer was a visitor rather than a resident.
It is this time period which again appears to implicate Twain.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, I rest my case.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Of course, this is nonsense. Mark Twain makes a entertaining addition to the crowded field of Ripper suspects, but
there is little truth to be gained from such conjecture, we are only left with
another contribution to an elaborate and ever expanding mythology.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">These myths are important, as it is through mythologies that
we can gain some access to history. What makes the Ripper case such an important myth is the
fact it was never solved. As it is now
unlikely that we will ever be able to solve this mystery with any certainty,
there is enough subjective space for conspiracy theorists, historians,
criminologists and all manner of academics to be able to probe the past and
claim some part of that history for themselves.
In doing so, we are able to uncover facets of our past that would
otherwise have remained forgotten.</span></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">One enduring element in urban or popular mythology is the
obsession with well known figures being not what they seem. This is due, in part, to the dramatic literary
tradition of “unmasking”. This a case of
projecting our ideas of fiction on to our history.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The Ripper mystery is no exception to this theory and Twain
is in auspicious company. In addition to Walter Sickert, the Ripper has been identified as a member of the Royal Family, as writer Lewis Carroll and perhaps
most intriguingly as Sherlock Holmes creator Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. In fact, just about every notable Victorian
appears to have been, at one time or another, a valid Ripper Suspect, each with
their own supporting micro-mythology.</span><br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmKP4U20VpKWAD0pQGB_Ab3VAhDQkHZwsJoIoWG9ObbSHLy9-kw4dHs-TDlMyFe_a7xc0v_6ZzSmMI6O8NsVJYjMpfc2uHLevBXxbaZOGAsAgNR1RFl0Li7p30DahZShnoc4yiylRHQLU/s1600/Mary_Kelly_before_dying_by_lienertje.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmKP4U20VpKWAD0pQGB_Ab3VAhDQkHZwsJoIoWG9ObbSHLy9-kw4dHs-TDlMyFe_a7xc0v_6ZzSmMI6O8NsVJYjMpfc2uHLevBXxbaZOGAsAgNR1RFl0Li7p30DahZShnoc4yiylRHQLU/s400/Mary_Kelly_before_dying_by_lienertje.jpg" width="280" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Mary Kelly before dying</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>by Eline</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><a href="http://lienertje.deviantart.com/">Courtesy of the artist</a></i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">The attraction with this cross-pollenation of mythologies is
that it expands our sense of historical place and opens up new and fresh
sources of possible evidence. By
expanding our fields of study we begin to understand the further complexities
of our own past.</span></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">In some ways, the celebrity of the Ripper lineup is
explained by the fact that notions of history are informed by the grand and
prominent, as it is the rich, influential and powerful figures of the past who
are preserved for us. They are the only clear footprints we have left to track. Whilst
probably less than thankful, the Ripper victims and supporting cast would have
been unknown save for their dramatic demise.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Without the Ripper, Mary Ann Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride,
Catherine Eddowes and Mary Jane Kelly would have joined the faceless ranks of
the Victorian underclass, the anonymous mass of common people, their lives left
unrecorded, while their possessions and all other traces of their existence
turn to dust.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">This</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"> article was originally intended to be a book review of Patricia Cornwell's<span class="st"><i></i><i> </i></span><i><span class="st">Portrait of a Killer: Jack the <i>Ripper</i> - Case Closed. </span></i></span><span class="st"><span style="font-size: x-small;">After failing to read the book in its entirety, I wrote this instead. It remained unpublished until now. To date there has been no legal action from the estate of Mark Twain. I take this as either a recognition of nonsense or admission of guilt. You decide. </span></span></div>
matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-86181917264820023212011-09-22T13:26:00.000-07:002012-05-16T03:53:16.326-07:00Burning Rubber: Reflections on the Car Chase movie<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i>"What's behind me is not important." - Franco (Raul Julia) explains the first rule of Italian
driving, whilst tearing off his rear view mirror in The Gumball Rally (1978)</i></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAwUWwNCUNF0sriwuDk9CcFG506HjJtnTyrb3CuzTpxndt38qtJTrNvJgpm_ByQ3HbeH1V9Muaqn7Sg3QPN5VXdEkC6xGVkGox39kGiiittyqvf9H43HJKJWRW8i-w5ukZaKxm26mfCz4/s1600/BTS-frenchbig-620x419.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAwUWwNCUNF0sriwuDk9CcFG506HjJtnTyrb3CuzTpxndt38qtJTrNvJgpm_ByQ3HbeH1V9Muaqn7Sg3QPN5VXdEkC6xGVkGox39kGiiittyqvf9H43HJKJWRW8i-w5ukZaKxm26mfCz4/s320/BTS-frenchbig-620x419.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Gene Hackman behind the scenes shooting the</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">groundbreaking car chase in William Friedkin's</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The French Connection</i> (1971)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Hollywood has been burning rubber almost as long as it has
been burning celluloid. Cars and car
chases not only provide a fundamental cinematic ingredient for thrillseeking
moviegoers, but also represent one of the most culturally significant tropes of
the medium.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">To understand this significance, we must first recognise the
specific cultural shift that is marked by the appearance of this supercharged,
automotive brand of cinematic carnage.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Retrospectively, all creative art forms undergo a similar
series of cultural transitions and the movies are no exception. Broadly, we can group broad social and ideological
transitions through our history, each of these reflected by a dominant Cultural
phase. These phases are identified as Primitivism, Classicism, Modernism and Post-Modernism. Whilst historians often apply these as a clear linear progression, all four phases are occurring simultaneously on a smaller scale all the time, both socially in
different geographical regions and formally through different media. It is by applying this model to cinema that we uncover the
startling and pivotal cultural role taken by the
Car Chase within this bubbling cultural soup.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2cCUh3WIB_Bao_5bJhV8N8QI7TWTir1KVnmu0tBZnDXB4jBPLylBIyfje0F-5bmwgOxs6rhzrBTa4qsEM6MUfZQB07GJxOpjUlSjr8Gan2PDMGdbHz33T86XVeLKY8illG8wUy2Z1tk/s1600/LUMIERE_TRAIN.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu2cCUh3WIB_Bao_5bJhV8N8QI7TWTir1KVnmu0tBZnDXB4jBPLylBIyfje0F-5bmwgOxs6rhzrBTa4qsEM6MUfZQB07GJxOpjUlSjr8Gan2PDMGdbHz33T86XVeLKY8illG8wUy2Z1tk/s320/LUMIERE_TRAIN.gif" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The Lumiere Brothers thrill audiences </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">with their amazing train</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> </i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">The infancy of any new medium first begins with a Primitive
period. Primitivism is generally
identified with the discovery of a particular medium. This is a phase of formal development, when
work is generally sensualist or decorative, designed to demonstrate the potential
of that medium. In the fine arts, this is
often related to cave-painting and other ancient decorative crafts. The pioneering moving pictures of the
<i><span style="font-style: normal;">Lumière Brothers </span></i>
mark
the Primitive period of cinema, when the simple thrill of seeing short moving images
was enough to pack theatres night after night. </span><br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">As technical skills improve in a medium, we enter a
Classical period. This is where a craft
is developed and refined. In many ways
the utilisation of the medium stays similar to the Primitive period, but the
Classical period marks a peak of technical excellence. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">To again use the fine arts as an analogue, the most obvious
and recognisable example of this would be the 16th century Renaissance. This period marked the beginning of the
modern age. In painting and sculpture of
this time, artists began using perspective and proportion to achieve
increasingly lifelike effects. The
achievements of Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, Raphael, Giorgione and Titian
mark a peak of painterly craftsmanship still unparalleled in our time. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">In long established formal media, it would appear each
cultural shift occurred simultaneously in reaction to a contemporary social
shift. However, every formal medium
still passes through all prior phases of development until it reaches the
dominant social phase of its time. Thus,
in a much more recent medium - developed at a more culturally sophisticated
time - the speed of these transitions is
accelerated accordingly, as the form needs to catch up with its audience. This is the case with cinema.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The established Classical period of
Cultural development extends roughly from the 16th century until the late 19th
century. It was during the latter point
that the exploration of Modernism was just beginning across the fields of the
established arts and literature. It is
also around this time that cinema was first developed: a newborn Primitive
artform in a Modernist world. One may
surmise that the development of photography, then cinematography, at this point
also played a role in rendering the major Classical purposes of art
obsolete.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Nevertheless, as Modernism
began in earnest, Cinema was just starting out on its Cultural journey and, through necessity, quickly
evolved into its Classical phase. No matter how ground breaking the experience
might initially be, audiences soon tired of seeing the same silent scene of a
steam train leaving its station. Within just a few years, Méliès set up the first film studio
and began to further exploit this fledgling medium, drawing from the language
of the existing structures of its nearest formal relatives – those of
photography, literature and theatre.</span></div>
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<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_GGf_MjboCAABLViZZHk2g38qOgRT7Z-sMT5Sb5MHw5dAFum2qflC1H2ZvUP43afrC1uEGcYo-aON-C_dNdXbCj-kdb7BLQYdu_vt3c4Q3mKC6oxERL1ookDJygUMU1EFMJXjlH9Bab8/s1600/KeystoneCops.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_GGf_MjboCAABLViZZHk2g38qOgRT7Z-sMT5Sb5MHw5dAFum2qflC1H2ZvUP43afrC1uEGcYo-aON-C_dNdXbCj-kdb7BLQYdu_vt3c4Q3mKC6oxERL1ookDJygUMU1EFMJXjlH9Bab8/s200/KeystoneCops.jpg" width="200" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Keystone Kops (circa 1915)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Forerunners of the action sequence can be found in many
genres of the 1920's, 30's and 40's, from film-noir to westerns and
early serial pictures. These sequences,
however, were rooted in drama rather than spectacle and still took their
dramatic conventions from other media - in particular, drawing their
inspiration from pulp literature and comic books. Interestingly, the
clearest silent movie antecedents can be found in slapstick shorts, like
the anarchic shenanigans of the </span><i style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Keystone Kops</i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">. These prototype
action set pieces were an extension of Vaudville performance acts and restrained in length, scope and quality by technical limitations, but
this very physical comedy provided inspiration for what could be
accomplished with the medium.</span> </span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">As the Classical period marks the greatest period of
refinement in craft and technique, it is not surprising that all media are
dominated by a cadre of revered individuals from their Classical periods. From Shakespeare, to Mozart, to Carravaggio –
the Classical exponents of a media set the standard by which all those who follow
will be judged. In cinema, the
Classical period of technical development stretches from Méliès through to such
diverse figures as Hitchcock, Welles, Eisenstein, Kurosawa, even extending into
the 70s with the work of directors such as Altman and Scorcese.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">As with any Classical period of formal
development, these achievements establish the critical and formal language for a
medium, yet once a peak of excellence has been achieved, it cannot by
definition be excelled. Thus a medium needs to expand into new territory to continue
to survive. We identify this next shift
as Modernism. The Modernist period
occurs where a medium appears to have been formally fully formed. The shift to Modernism is often - but not
always - marked by an initial fear of redundancy, since the medium appears to
have exhausted its potential. It is following this transition that the formal
medium now advances contextually as new and unique applications are discovered
and the medium can be finally established as an independent art form.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">In conventional Art History, this phase is more commonly
associated with the post-war shift from figurative painting and sculpture to
abstraction and conceptual art, although this transition really begun in early
19th Century Europe as Classical Art and Culture searched for a new purpose as
the Classical social structure collapsed.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">The Modernist shift in cinema actually overlaps the
critically acclaimed work of these Classicists and spans from the late 50s,
peaking in the mid-70s, continuing on into the present day. This is a shift that properly consolidates
with the groundbreaking formal development of the Car Chase.</span></div>
</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXNgwwxn_R4QlGT1OKYGa3tiz42VRjbS2Ducu9kfjbbzV5KgEmObM3gz-vGq2a_tu2uXgDNb7i4SjaYVtHbJOTJH0gQ46Bw0NehEVXr2zrajAeSdltUJhiahXSmJYLny0PqrvRCdIB1WU/s1600/1419413823_ae7c3a2657.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXNgwwxn_R4QlGT1OKYGa3tiz42VRjbS2Ducu9kfjbbzV5KgEmObM3gz-vGq2a_tu2uXgDNb7i4SjaYVtHbJOTJH0gQ46Bw0NehEVXr2zrajAeSdltUJhiahXSmJYLny0PqrvRCdIB1WU/s320/1419413823_ae7c3a2657.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Cinema had been embraced
as a new art of a new world and </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">the automobile was naturally the most
appropriate of subjects. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Representing freedom and modernity, the car
chase (in fiction </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">and reality) is at it's heart a most American art form</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">From this point, North American cinema dominates and it should be noted that this gearshift into Modernism was first initiated by a number of
domestic social factors.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">It is during the
1950's, that we find a new breed of affluent, post-war youth, eager to assert a
distinct and individual cultural identity.
It is in this era that the Rock and Roll counterculture would be born
and many of the foundations were being laid for the later social and political
upheavals of the 1960s. The effect on
cinema was to be equally dramatic.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">This audience was eager for excitement and thrills and demanded
a constant stream of new movies to satisfy them. Chase scenes were already a staple of the Classical period of cinema, but in order to fill out the
running time of these B-grade productions they were drawn out to become the focus
of the movie. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">With improved equipment, but working with relatively small
budgets, B-movie filmmakers recognised the potential for placing the actual
focus of a movie on its spectacle. This would
mean that the plot became subordinate to providing a constant stream of action
and thrills. This astute decision would
later lead to exploitation filmmaking – a cinema of excess – which relied on
the unholy trinity of sex, violence and action, designed to stir up thrills,
teenage libidos and wallets in equal measure.
However, at this point in history, strict codes of guidance still restricted
what could be shown onscreen in mainstream features. This effectively meant that the filmmaker
could only tease with hints of violence and allusions to sex.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">With their options limited, filmmakers had to concentrate on
action sequences to provide mass entertainment.
This new youthful audience demanded contemporary movies that they could
identify with and so the earliest manifestations of the classic action sequence
centred around the popular sport of illegal hot rodding with crazy young hipsters racing '32 Ford Highboys and '29 Track Ts with flat head V8s.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhxVnBZqzttUv6B13L81epd23K4p_xmVGNx4rcBS1skTNMcMbuPSyo9vaKhaonSdpb7zuG1VCq49mKFKDZN-3yCVeDinj5Aeyf3I-ogGZ-Longhnnz8DrnfFDantlbC-mcBncxa2W1kSE/s1600/hot-rod-girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhxVnBZqzttUv6B13L81epd23K4p_xmVGNx4rcBS1skTNMcMbuPSyo9vaKhaonSdpb7zuG1VCq49mKFKDZN-3yCVeDinj5Aeyf3I-ogGZ-Longhnnz8DrnfFDantlbC-mcBncxa2W1kSE/s320/hot-rod-girl.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Hot Rod Girl</i> (1956) offered "speed crazy thrills</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">as wild youths tear up the streets!"</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">As a result, 50s films such as <i>Teenage Thunder</i>, <i>Hot Rod
Gang</i>, <i>Thunder Road</i> and <i>Devil on Wheels</i> were amongst the slew of low-budget
movies churned out by studios to satisfy the demands of the youthful drive-in
movies audiences.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">These particular movies still only featured Car-Chase scenes
as a modest part of a loose narrative still rooted in a Classical cinematic
structure, but the emphasis on the extended chase scenes was beginning to
explore a new language unique to cinema.
The visceral thrills of these action sequences could not have existed in
any previous storytelling medium.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">In a sense, the compostion of these films is comparable to
the early Modernist compositions of Futurism.
As with Futurism, there is a similar immediacy and an obsession with
modern images and narrative. These
movies retain the framing of classical composition, yet techniques unique to
the medium were being emphasised within this structure. This leads to a subtle,
but noticeable, abstraction of form. More importantly, with this change in
attitude towards filmmaking, cinema was evolving again and - despite the
existing formal arts having more than a 500 year head start – making its first
tentative steps towards Modernism a mere 60 years after its invention. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">By the time the chequered flag of 1960s was waved, an
increasing liberalisation of the industry allowed more exploitative B-movies,
opening the floodgates for studios to attract their audiences with the much
cheaper thrills of sex and violence. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Thus, the cycle of 50s Car-Chase movies were no longer
necessary in their original context – slowly being replaced by a greater
variety of extreme content. Nevertheless,
this was not enough to stop the rise of the seemingly unstoppable Car-Chase
phenomenon. As Modernism is generally
marked by a change in the context of a media and a deconstruction of its
fundamental qualities, a key component is a medium drawing its formal and
contextual language from its own history rather than from other media. This leads to an increasing process of
self-referentiality. As the popularity
of the Car-Chase made it a common and recognisable cinematic archetype, it was
now increasingly visible in more mainstream films.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRnPDXjoO6a5A5iJqdhKPP2XKss2pXGAn-lG7lusXy5enjJmy1TB7Z2eOPrlS0XmsvXxHo0elm4OzsKQZWI7qNV79fOrnkZoQD5gzXwmrUTtuFs9BfA8F0IH4Bujp4EXPmkb2c5g3dokc/s1600/bullit1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRnPDXjoO6a5A5iJqdhKPP2XKss2pXGAn-lG7lusXy5enjJmy1TB7Z2eOPrlS0XmsvXxHo0elm4OzsKQZWI7qNV79fOrnkZoQD5gzXwmrUTtuFs9BfA8F0IH4Bujp4EXPmkb2c5g3dokc/s320/bullit1.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Steve McQueen catches some 'lift' on the mean</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">streets of San Fransisco in <i>Bullitt </i>(1968) </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">During that decade, increasingly elaborate Car
Chases began appearing in every possible genre; from popular horror flicks, such
as <i>The Spider</i> and <i>The Giant Gila Monster</i>, to the centrepiece of big budget
thrillers. The most notable of these later entries including <i>Bullitt (1968) </i>and <i>The French
Connection (1971)</i>.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Despite being of only moderate
significance to the narrative of these movies, it is worth recognising
that the Car Chase sequences form perhaps the most iconic and enduring images
of these productions. The climactic chase scene of <i>Bullitt </i>is a deft mix of some exquisite on-location stunt driving, dramatic cinematography and subtle effects work that result in what is often considered to be the first true car chase sequence in modern cinema. A few years later, William Friedkin's <i>The French
Connection</i> would raise the stakes again with a wild supersonic, pedestrian
worrying, gravity defying car chase.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">As the 60s progressed, there was a renewed period of
experimentation, as both technical and social advances allowed cinema a much
broader scope. Whilst there were many
Modernist experiments within cinema during this period, the increased technical
potential of the medium prolonged – to some extent – Classical dominance.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">By the time we reach the 70s, cinema has properly entered
its Modernist period, evidenced by the distillation and exploitation of the
peculiar qualities of its own formal legacy.
This deconstruction initially occurs using the formal elements of the
Car-Chase, which becomes the first singularly cinematic archetype to become a
new separate and very distinct genre in its own right.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6UAPw76HD2cuvF_mkxl_RiKHiDCaoCqjeCz-4nkrxN_zCFp9nHpSL0SIEkRiLC-0USyesj5MMdYsbTSjzcCcDNPE-pVn7gp0_5AUBxoWT_nIwnwfWyby3cpVNt_wHIlBxji9U3buHtx4/s1600/duel4cc7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6UAPw76HD2cuvF_mkxl_RiKHiDCaoCqjeCz-4nkrxN_zCFp9nHpSL0SIEkRiLC-0USyesj5MMdYsbTSjzcCcDNPE-pVn7gp0_5AUBxoWT_nIwnwfWyby3cpVNt_wHIlBxji9U3buHtx4/s320/duel4cc7.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Dennis Weaver gets "trucked off" in Spielberg's <i>Duel </i>(1971)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">The decade was dominated by mainstream movies taking the Car-Chase as their subject. In 1971, an unknown director named Steven Spielberg crafted his entire debut feature around a single predatory car chase in the TV movie <i>Duel</i>. From the <i>The
California Kid</i> (1973), which revolved around a psychotic sheriff who ran speeders off the road, to <i>Greased Lightning</i>
(1977), featuring Richard Prior as a real life rum-runner turned racer, these films centred
their narratives around Car-Chase action and maintained the genre throughout
the decade, straying very little from the established format. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The genre was driven by several recognisable elements. During the sixties and seventies, youth
culture was largely centred around an anti-authoritarianism and a distrust of
establishment figures. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Reflecting this, the central characters of many movies
during this period were often sympathetic individuals outside the law. The trend towards the anti-hero easily
filtered through into the Car-Chase genre, providing filmmakers with the
opportunity to throw the combined might of the police department motorpool
against our hapless heroes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">To further polarise our sympathies, there was often an
individual authority figure with a grudge, representing as many bigoted
prejudices associated with the establishment as possible and whose primary
purpose was to be humiliated a variety of wacky slapstick ways during the
course of the feature. The
archetypal “Fat Redneck Sheriff”, epitomised by Jackie Gleason in the three
Bandit movies, even managed to make an unexpected cameo appearance in the 1974
James Bond flick <i>Live And Let Die (1973)</i>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkmMD0hQTXcJciZ9Kbox1m6JoIO9bVDZWahRgjYvBgMzUc0_ZU2drEociEUnpfhaIjYAwhGyBpduHc_wngEAfDDpJ4I_0WkoigRUKw5UdyUvER7Sa6vfORarNGLtHBvn7xL09lFDMCOXc/s1600/vanishing_point_1283868138.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkmMD0hQTXcJciZ9Kbox1m6JoIO9bVDZWahRgjYvBgMzUc0_ZU2drEociEUnpfhaIjYAwhGyBpduHc_wngEAfDDpJ4I_0WkoigRUKw5UdyUvER7Sa6vfORarNGLtHBvn7xL09lFDMCOXc/s320/vanishing_point_1283868138.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="st" style="font-size: small;"><span class="f"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"...and there goes the Challenger, </span><br />
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">being chased by the blue, blue meanies on wheels"</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> <i>Vanishing Point</i> (1971)</span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">With such two dimensional characterisation and exaggerated
action sequences, few of these films were intended to be taken seriously, the
possible exception being <i>Vanishing Point (1971)</i> - which would be a controversial
inclusion in that this meditative, existential Road movie includes few actual
chases – and the strange and beautiful <i>Two Lane Blacktop (1971)</i>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Quite simply, narrative is stripped to all but that which is
necessary to identify the media and legitimise the movie. A classic example of this type of abstraction
can be found in the original obscure cult movie <i>Gone in 60 Seconds</i> – written, starring, directed and produced by stunt driver
H.B. Halicki. That movie famously began
as a 40-minute demolition derby car chase, allegedly taking seven months to
film in five cities and leaving a grand total of 99 vehicles destroyed in its
wake. The plot is typically minimal - 46 cars must be stolen,
including a 1973 Mustang Mach 1. Only
after shooting these sequences did Halicki - who died attempting more extreme
stunt driving for the sequel - hastily film the narrative bookends to provide a
contextual framing to justify the excessive auto-action.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Q2hxwMfRHSIc2w7mnDfoO9bxKJaGE15VSppc8f6M-fLrrKQycGAgpME66jsG2sdMKzPYK09Vc3y-VzgUQb13DehyphenhyphenMdbWVW3cPXmKGGQpGOKlNdmJGj0XZ8Vizu5Z9MKD4eDnGY0E0Yk/s1600/bandit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Q2hxwMfRHSIc2w7mnDfoO9bxKJaGE15VSppc8f6M-fLrrKQycGAgpME66jsG2sdMKzPYK09Vc3y-VzgUQb13DehyphenhyphenMdbWVW3cPXmKGGQpGOKlNdmJGj0XZ8Vizu5Z9MKD4eDnGY0E0Yk/s320/bandit.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Burt Reynolds at Bo "Bandit" Darble</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Whilst certainly not the first movie of the Car-Chase genre
to use the classic template, <i>Smokey and the Bandit (1977) </i>is probably one of the most
familiar. Directed and written by Hal
Needham, the films premise is another simple derivation on the classic theme.
Bandit and the Snowman, played by Burt
Reynolds and country singer Jerry Reid, must drive a Kenworth semi from Atlanta
to Texarkana and back in 28 hours - loaded with 400 cases of bootlegged beer
for rich-boys Big and 'Lil Enos Burdett, who make this bet with every aspiring
road-racer they can.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Win and our good 'ole boy heroes can buy a new rig with an
$80,000 prize. If they Lose, it's off to jail. To make the trip efficiently,
Bandit surmises they need a car to divert the attention of the local law
enforcement away from the truck and its illegal cargo. This neatly leads to the
introduction of the Bandits Pontiac Trans Am. In between the comic-slapstick
Car action, Sally Field provided the most irrelevant and implausible love
interest in movie history, whilst Jackie Gleason made his movie comeback after
7 years offscreen, as the iconic Buford T Justice, a obese hick Sheriff with a
grudge. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Whilst <i>Gone in 60 Seconds</i> is an obscure cult gem, <i>Smokey and
the Bandit </i>was a huge hit. Surprisingly,
it grossed over $126 million in the U.S. alone. It ended up second only to <i>Star
Wars</i> on 1977s biggest hits list and spawned two sequels, a wave of imitators
and a television series. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">There were other derivations on the Car-Chase formula, such
as the “<i>Great Race</i>” format – taking its name from Blake Edwards’ 1965 caper movie
which was based on a turn of the century round-the-world race between a
starched, heroic Tony Curtis and a dastardly Jack Lemmon. This particular format was an extension of
movies such as <i>It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World</i> (1963) – itself a re-working of <i>Around
the World in 80 Days</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">These early “race” movies were really an excuse to present a
series of comic, slapstick set-pieces between a large ensemble cast, using the
Race format as a type of Vaudeville or Variety show framework to present a
series of sketches. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">In the 70s, <i>The Gumball Rally</i> and<i> The Cannonball Run</i>
similarly revolved around a madcap coast-to-coast race. Like the prototype 50's B-pictures, both <i>The
Cannonball Run </i>and <i>The Gumball Rally</i> were based on the same real life event, an
illegal road race known as "The Cannonball Baker Sea to Shining Sea
Memorial Dash."</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvoWeFwiplVE5kYxuYJq6KdqO_X1MlNxxTKBq3QEetyVQBkR_hqEKZXQnxSkgORADFnr843iiGDm4o5Y1TzjNRuYV0OVGinrlRDRhMu7BOsM-ka752z5duhLL7HuzF1vE_M9x26Oaquq8/s1600/the-cannonball-run-poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvoWeFwiplVE5kYxuYJq6KdqO_X1MlNxxTKBq3QEetyVQBkR_hqEKZXQnxSkgORADFnr843iiGDm4o5Y1TzjNRuYV0OVGinrlRDRhMu7BOsM-ka752z5duhLL7HuzF1vE_M9x26Oaquq8/s320/the-cannonball-run-poster.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> </i><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The last truly great Great Race movie</span></span><br />
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The Cannonball Run </i>(1981)</span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">In these movies, the Great Race format is used to cram in a
bewildering crowd of cameo racers. <i>The
Cannonball Run</i> in particular takes a long time to get underway, purely because
of the amount of characters it has to introduce. Among the competitors in eponymous
no-holds-barred race to California, Smokey director Hal Needham once again draws
on the talents of Burt Reynolds for his lead, this time along with unstable
sidekick Dom DeLuise, who periodically switches into his inexplicable alter-ego
“Captain Chaos”. Jamie Farr hams it up
as an equally unstable Arab millionaire determined to win no matter what the
cost and ratpack crooners Dean Martin and Sammy Davis Jr. play two gambling
drunks dressed as priests so “God can be their co-pilot."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Doing their respective bit for international
stereotypes, Roger Moore plays a James Bond style racer complete with gadget
packet Aston Martin, while Jackie Chan pilots a rocket propelled Subaru. Also on the starting lineup are seventies sex
bombs Farrah Fawcett, Adrienne Barbeau, Tara Buckman and a whole host of
supporting characters, each playing various comic archetypes. Sticking to a winning formula, they are
pursued by government agent AF Foyt, a fascistic bureaucrat obsessed with
stopping the racers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The main difference between <i>Cannonball </i>and the earlier
ensemble features, was that this was no longer a character driven movie. Instead the emphasis was clearly on setting
up a series of high octane race and comedic chase scenes. The advantage in using so many well-known
actors was so that they could play what was essentially a pastiche of their
popular persona. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">This made any cumbersome character development unesscessary
and draws on from the formal rules of early Modernist Abstraction by using
certain Classical conventions - already familiar to a predominantly
Classical audience - in order to make abstract work accessible. As with the majority of the 70's Car-Chase
cycle, the characters are little more than caricatures, generally with a strict
moral distinction. They are either the
bad-guys or the good-guys, with the audience made certain they know exactly who
they should be rooting for. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Cartoonish villany actually draws its archetypes from early
silent shorts - where visual exaggeration was necessary in order to compensate
for a lack of sound and the poor quality and relatively short length of the
reel. Here we seen these techniques used
merely to ensure there are no lengthy distractions from the action - a wise
move considering shocking speed with which the action grinds to a screeching
halt during Burt Reynolds obligatory romantic interludes in both <i>The Cannonball
Run</i> and <i>Smokey and the Bandit</i>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuBUl5UhPF_g9D9ZE4ZiRUQGxQ-p_GUaLJcs05lE8XDegCikyHi1rOIK11DG2ubvi8lTSCLUOc1SMxeJWh-rUJKMjW7sOE612YO1-N6b_vwJp77UrnGsZNd-i-IJpjXHE1nVG_JKrUHwg/s1600/wacky_races_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuBUl5UhPF_g9D9ZE4ZiRUQGxQ-p_GUaLJcs05lE8XDegCikyHi1rOIK11DG2ubvi8lTSCLUOc1SMxeJWh-rUJKMjW7sOE612YO1-N6b_vwJp77UrnGsZNd-i-IJpjXHE1nVG_JKrUHwg/s200/wacky_races_2.jpg" width="200" /></a></i></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Dick Dastardly & sidekick Mutley,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">in Hanna-Barbera's <i>Wacky Races</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(doomed to failure, 1968-71)</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">Considering this willing two dimensionality, it is
appropriate that the Great Race format would find itself preserved in the <i>Wacky
Races</i> cartoon, its hapless villain Dick Dastardly practically a clone of the
Jack Lemmons moustache-twirling Professor in the original <i>Great Race</i>, both of
them doomed to perpetual humiliating failure.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Naturally, once a solid and identifiable formula has been
established and proved a success, so that formula is reproduced by others until
its popularity is exhausted. In this
respect, there are further parallels to be drawn with other fields of formal
Modernism. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The very experimental and personal form of Cubism developed
by Picasso and Braque suddenly found itself a formal genre in its own right. In a short space of time it was beyond their
control and in the hands of a expanding mass of minor Cubists that continues to
grow, even today. Similarly, the
Car Chase genre mutated and spawned with ferocity. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">As well as follow-ups to <i>Smokey </i>and <i>Cannonball</i>, Needham made
the a further string of Car orientated movies - including <i>Hooper</i> and <i>Stroker
Ace</i>, both starring Reynolds at the wheel. Even an autumnal Sam
Peckinpah contributed <i>Convoy</i>, which - in a radical move - substituted cars for
trucks, but left much of the remaining formula intact. Across the ocean, the Brits managed to cause just as much
destruction, albeit with the rather reduced horsepower of the humble mini, in
<i>The Italian Job (1969)</i>. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzGPl6PxF5sveKC7u7lUrDwCPb2N5S2k2un8QyJQVxVi2SU4o2EkYNQxznK0rbQRAPZUnZHNi3FVZQiKdJ4AAe4sb0BscF9a1s9Mp-4DaM5YJW2z3jHEnejLoyrcUIsfQDDiXnENBLbQg/s1600/576734-stunt-mad-max.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzGPl6PxF5sveKC7u7lUrDwCPb2N5S2k2un8QyJQVxVi2SU4o2EkYNQxznK0rbQRAPZUnZHNi3FVZQiKdJ4AAe4sb0BscF9a1s9Mp-4DaM5YJW2z3jHEnejLoyrcUIsfQDDiXnENBLbQg/s320/576734-stunt-mad-max.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Ledgendary stunt driver Grant Page at the wheel </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">in a scene from <i>Mad Max</i> (1979)</span> </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">Back in the B-movie soup from which the Car Chase had
first emerged, the genre continued to fascinate. Roger Corman took a particular interest in
the Car-Chase phenomenon he had indirectly helped to pioneer. Among his hastily produced cut-price
productions were <i>Gumball</i>, <i>Grand Theft Auto</i> and demented cult favorite <i>Death
Race 2000</i> <i>(1975)</i>, which optimistically suggested our obsession with the Car Chase had
at least another half century staying power.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">In this case, post-apocalyptic drivers took part in a pan-American
massacre whereby points were scored for slaughtering innocent bystanders
en-route. Distilling the medium even further, George Miller's Ozploitation classic <i>Mad Max (1979)</i> presented us with a dystopian near future where the car chase was pretty much <i>all </i>we had left.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">If we were required to continue the Cubist analogy and
identify a Picasso figure amongst the pantheon of gearjammers in this Modernist
branch of cinema - being a single and widely recognisable iconic character
whose work embodies the movement in its entirety - it would undoubtedly be Bo
“Bandit” Darble himself, Burt Reynolds.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The quarter-Cherokee son of a former cowboy provided the
lead in two of the most important movies in the genre, <i>Smokey and the Bandit</i>
and <i>The Cannonball Run</i>. As a both stuntman and the charismatic and recognisable
lead from a number of popular television series, Reynolds was perfect for these
roles. He was required only to be an
amiable “everyman” character. As a glib
and humourous antihero-lite, he played a consistent archetype, seemingly a
parody of real-life persona. This
allowed the movies he starred in to dispense with any cumbersome character
development or complicated plot framing.
All the filmmakers needed was an excuse to get Reynolds into a Trans-am
and on the lam.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">These movies were a product of their time, but mark an
important turning point and, like all Modernist constructions, allowed a
revitalisation of the medium. In
retrospect they were crude and irreverent, but once a Classical benchmark has
been achieved, the only way to develop is by the stripping of a medium back
down to its basics. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Interestingly, Braque neatly stated his intentions for
Cubism in a manner that is neatly applicable to the Car-Chase
deconstruction. Frustrated by the
Classicist and Neo-Classicist genre, he stated that it was his intention to
“create a new sort of beauty, the beauty that appears in terms of volume, of
line, of mass, of weight."</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmAVdCXrxlhyphenhyphenK5ZuxkvFvlPYGjPTB68gJi2CNYVZ2eL7Rl6n6a6oTL8CtOSNlfX_Z6yN65UCn8o151N_hrYIbAZWl5Vz7bDv4TZKp9W3zcqW36BOGYEWvDreSCMvRCYP69_3lAUTBiNSc/s1600/cannonball-run_480x480.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmAVdCXrxlhyphenhyphenK5ZuxkvFvlPYGjPTB68gJi2CNYVZ2eL7Rl6n6a6oTL8CtOSNlfX_Z6yN65UCn8o151N_hrYIbAZWl5Vz7bDv4TZKp9W3zcqW36BOGYEWvDreSCMvRCYP69_3lAUTBiNSc/s320/cannonball-run_480x480.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"A new sort of beauty, the beauty that appears</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">in terms of volume, of
line, of mass, of weight"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"> Georges Braque</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">Like the early Modernism of other media, these genre movies
mark a complete abstraction of form. In painting, Braque and Picasso had developed the Cubism form by taking the Classical format of
painting and discarding all but the specific qualities unique to that
medium. They were making paintings about
paintings. In these movies, from <i>Gone in
60 Seconds</i> to the<i> Gumball Rally</i>, filmmakers took the format of Classical movie
structure, but reduced all but certain unique cinematic qualities of that
media. These qualities are perfectly embodied by
the Car Chase, an element in that simply cannot be reproduced in any
existing media; not literature, painting, sculpture or even theatre.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Naturally, as with Cubism, critics found this Modernist abstraction
difficult to grasp and many were immediately hostile. For instance, Tim Pulleine wrote that the
classic Cannonball Run was “lacking any recognisable plot or characterisation,
or indeed incidental invention, it merely offers a parade of inept
whimsy and lame intra-mutual reference.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">This kind of critical attack is striking in its similarity
to the derogatory comments made by the critics of Modernism in other
media. Any initial break with Classism
in a medium is often considered vulgar and shocking - before being eventually
embraced. This was the case with Cubism,
Futurism, Impressionism and Car-Chase movies.
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Of course, once any form has been fully popularised and
become over familiar, it will quickly lose relevance. The very success of the Car-chase movie
started an unprecedented cycle of hastily produced sequels and inferior
imitations, which swiftly stifled the originality and sheer excitement of the
pioneering early works. In tandem with
this decline, George Lucas’ 1977 space opera <i>Star Wars</i> had redefined the
concept of the thrill movie – with previously unimaginable special effects
sequences raising audience expectations far above the simple pleasures of the
dirt-track and tarmac demolition derby.
</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">By 1983, even Reynolds declined to return as the lead for
<i>Smokey and the Bandit III</i>, offering only a split-second cameo at the films
conclusion. From the mid-eighties onwards,
the phenomenon of the big budget, high-concept “Summer Blockbuster” had
superceded the Car-Chase genre almost entirely.
Nevertheless, no popcorn movie of the 80’s was complete without at least
one obligatory burst of car chase action. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Since then, the Car-Chase has remained a staple set-piece of the
generic Action movie, making countless cameo appearances in all manner of
productions. During the 80's and 90's, many movies included memorable Car Chase scenes, including <i>The Blues Brothers (1980), </i><i>Beverly Hills Cops (1984), </i><i>Lethal Weapon
2 (1989), Days of Thunder (1990), The Chase (1994),
Goldeneye (1995) </i>and<i> The Rock (1996). </i>At the close of the decade, John Frankenheimers <i>Ronin (1998)</i> recalled the gritty style of the 1970s
thriller and revisited the mean streets of <i>The French Connection. </i>An honorable mention should also go to the audacious tongue-in-cheek sequence in <i>Way of the Gun (1999)</i>, where a two car chase is staged almost entirely at walking pace,
but with no less automotive destruction.</span><br />
<br /></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;">
<tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwmiSe5NpTXV1u4QMqsoiiNSp4YwnK1giLY_QeNiTLEidcyOQpTUm54YHA3XjQdg5NLjpkVNPAm7hLqSB5G_m_KKJhMa0n8p3UdVe_opch_j6UZFpz7KZ_Rml72H-IQHgmazacn9NBSPc/s1600/freeway-car-chase-630-75.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="141" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwmiSe5NpTXV1u4QMqsoiiNSp4YwnK1giLY_QeNiTLEidcyOQpTUm54YHA3XjQdg5NLjpkVNPAm7hLqSB5G_m_KKJhMa0n8p3UdVe_opch_j6UZFpz7KZ_Rml72H-IQHgmazacn9NBSPc/s320/freeway-car-chase-630-75.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">This is how Michael Bay arrives at work every morning</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>Bad Boys II </i>(2003)</span><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></td></tr>
</tbody>
</table>
<span style="font-size: small;">First across the line of new millennium was Jerry Bruckheimers surprise hi-octane remake o<i>f Gone in
60 Seconds (2000)</i>. In view of his unerring
dedication to the Car-Chase sequence throughout his entire career, this
movie is a characteristically broad tribute not just to the original
movie but to the
genre as a whole. Close behind,<i> The Fast and the Furious (2001)</i> franchise starring the
appropriately monikered Vin Diesel, returned the genre to its drag racing
roots.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">We must also not forget that formal progression continues
apace in established media. As we
develop the cultural sensibilities of the Post-Modern – a methodology with
growing importance in the fields of art, music and literature - there is an
increased self-referentiality within all media coupled with an increased use of
the techniques of contextual irony and pastiche.</span><br />
<br /></div>
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</div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg47JCfKo0bYXVE9DhIiz-4WaxJ_F1nZ0G7xLP-nRqI8oeRIwgLN-6Z9uq-nZZrxfM19PPHS5vqg0lcHSj2_jLuMkWP52Y8GJz1gukWO4P-gL70nWAOQ6eRym2GIKDE7gVeuu6K_ARsB4/s1600/DeathProofFinalShipsMast.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg47JCfKo0bYXVE9DhIiz-4WaxJ_F1nZ0G7xLP-nRqI8oeRIwgLN-6Z9uq-nZZrxfM19PPHS5vqg0lcHSj2_jLuMkWP52Y8GJz1gukWO4P-gL70nWAOQ6eRym2GIKDE7gVeuu6K_ARsB4/s320/DeathProofFinalShipsMast.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><style>
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</style><span style="font-size: small;"><i>
</i></span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Zoe Bell clings for life to the hood of a 70 Challenger</span><style>
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<br />
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">as Stuntman Mike tries to run the girls off the road</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>Death Proof </i>(2007)</span><span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">There is perhaps evidence of this in Jan De Bonts <i>Taxi (2000), </i>which provided a compact and knowing Gallic wheelspin on the genre. We've also had Pixar's animated <i>Cars (2006)</i> and Michael Bay's <i>Transformers (2007)</i>, in which the titular vehicles actually <i>are </i>the main characters. In Quentin Tarantino's<i> Death Proof (2007)</i>, two separate sets of voluptuous women are stalked at
different times by scarred Stuntman Mike (Kurt Russell) who uses his "death proof" cars
to execute his murderous plans.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">There are sly and overt references to almost every movie
mentioned in this article and even though perhaps only a third of the action
actually takes place on the asphalt, there is more talking about movie cars and
stunt work than any other movie I can think of. Nevertheless, the climactic high speed chase is one of the
most exciting twenty minutes of automotive action to grace the screen in many
years. The action and the danger here is real; the centrepiece being real-life
stuntwoman Zoe Bell as herself playing “ships mast” on the front of a speeding
Challenger as they are rammed repeatedly by the chasing psychopath.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">When the girls eventually turn the tables to exact a fitting
revenge on Stuntman Mike, it’s an appropriate coda to a movie that is a love
letter to a genre so often male-dominated and a timely reminder that women
should never again be considered mere ornament amongst the freeway frenzy.<i> </i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>Death Proof</i> is as close to a pure Post-Modern tilt on the car chase movie as we are going to find for the time being, but glance in the rear view mirror reveals there is a new challenger, close behind and gaining fast. Whilst the art of cinema evolved very quickly over barely a century, it seems that it is on the verge of being overtaken by a
bratty digital cousin with barely 40 years on the clock.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8uzHSqSUpMu-7qqOTdkGh6uDqANdlc-jmuKhFRPnmwLqY3GFFnBwodLzF0Q5xhx_fg2IrahuzENJH-leduH9tZV1xKejYqNkdPLUa8toGg0yLtHYqboyU-eysGaTuFcuOzV1NFbR5YDQ/s1600/grand-theft-auto-iv-screenshot-city-police-chase.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8uzHSqSUpMu-7qqOTdkGh6uDqANdlc-jmuKhFRPnmwLqY3GFFnBwodLzF0Q5xhx_fg2IrahuzENJH-leduH9tZV1xKejYqNkdPLUa8toGg0yLtHYqboyU-eysGaTuFcuOzV1NFbR5YDQ/s400/grand-theft-auto-iv-screenshot-city-police-chase.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The car is the star</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Grand Theft Auto IV </i>(2008)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">Home computer and gaming technology has raced through
it’s Primitive and into its Classical stage very quickly, becoming increasingly interactive and close to offering sensory
experiences the cinema is unable to match. With new generations of games consoles appearing at an ever-increasing
rate, it is of particular
note that one of the most popular and enduring Computer Game genres has been the
Car Chase.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">As we approach the astounding cinematic technology of the Eighth Generation consoles, it should come as little suprise that one of the most popular gaming franchises is <i>Grand Theft Auto</i>,
a game that takes great delight in its fetishisation of the golden age of Car Chase cinema.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Meanwhile, popular cinema is still clinging persistently to the hood of Modernism, obsessed by the ever decreasing returns of high-concept formal abstraction. But digital gaming is raising the stakes and the threat of supercedence by new technical developments acts as a catalyst for experimentation and the pushing of boundaries. As we enter this strange new cinematic landscape, we might just find ourselves across the border, heading toward the next cinematic Renaissance. The future is a different country. They do things differently there. But one reassuring thing is almost for certain: there will still be Car Chases. </span></div>
</div>matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-47485034119977689352011-09-10T14:52:00.000-07:002012-02-14T06:38:39.818-08:00Abandoned Movie Pitch #1: Flight of the Living Dead<style>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>As an occasional freelance writer, I've launched a whole crowd of anxious rambling words into a wide
range of subjects and genres. These
include art and movie reviews, short stories and terrible poetry, textbooks and
toilet walls. </b><b> For years now I have
also persistently produced a multitude of movie scripts, oblivious of the fact
that not a single one has ever successfully escaped the confines of the
page. </b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Initially I was extremely naive in my hope that one day
something might actually be made, although it didn't take me long to realise
that I had neither the tenacity nor the talent to wrestle my own feature into
existence. Nevertheless, it's a habit
I've maintained, partially because I love the language of cinema and partially
because I enjoy that particular form of writing. I enjoy reading scripts and analysis of
movies for the peculiar way in which the words are in service of one medium
conjouring another. To put it another
way: scripts and screenplays are instructions for making a movie. Those instructions can be used in conjunction
with a million dollar budget to bring together the appropriate actors,
equipment and technicians to make that movie a reality. Alternatively, the same instructions can be
used with a little imagination and a basic awareness of the language of cinema,
to bring the same experience to life for the reader.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">In starting this blog with the intention of letting some of
my older and long abandoned writing out into the world, I thought it a good
place to set some of these abandoned little movie pitches free in the hope they
might interest, inspire or at least mildly entertain. I'm not going to post scripts, where a
complete script exists, it's generally half baked and mediocre anyway. Instead, I plan to condense them into
synopsis form and let you, the reader, remake them for yourselves as you
wish. The intention isn't to promote
myself as a scriptwriter or try and hook myself an exciting Hollywood career -
it's just a different platform to share some odd little stories...and that's
all they were intended to do in the first place.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">And with the previews out of the way, let's start with our feature presentation... </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>Flight of the Living Dead (1999) </b></span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVUxhPZQJ1fN2qfpMwTVprOObYKKAC6GF_vzl2yEo5nedwgcEBxG0Lw2HEDfEYN272hLcwajqvymgyXNFijTsQ4WbK7xqtQM3UjVitf5WHMfEXq68nD92WPfkMdUsy3N5L9AXjDDEf3bA/s1600/night-of-the-living-dead.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVUxhPZQJ1fN2qfpMwTVprOObYKKAC6GF_vzl2yEo5nedwgcEBxG0Lw2HEDfEYN272hLcwajqvymgyXNFijTsQ4WbK7xqtQM3UjVitf5WHMfEXq68nD92WPfkMdUsy3N5L9AXjDDEf3bA/s320/night-of-the-living-dead.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Some vintage zombies </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Night of the Living Dead</i> (1968)</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Quite why I enjoy zombie movies so much is beyond me. I am speaking of the classic zombie movies,
of course, in which the creeping dread of the shuffling undead created a
backdrop of polarised character drama, punctuated by outrageous shock moments,
the best of which often teetered on the edge of the very blackest of absurdist
satire. In many ways, I lost interest in
the genre as the zombies started running, leaving the living characters so
little time to interact or develop that the viewer barely has time to generate
any empathy with their situation or develop any sense of fear and tension
before the ripping and the biting starts with a vengeance. These movies can be fun if they emphasise the
thrills and the splatshtick, but they are often as empty, mindless and devoid of
individual character as their undead antagonists. There are exceptions, of course, but this
debate is covered thoroughly elsewhere by much more knowledgeable commentators
of reanimated corpses than I. My
contribution was to develop a rough screenplay that attempted to all the
elements that I loved about the classic zombie movies, with a an appropriately
awkward lunge at a fresh perspective. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">This was an optimistic early effort and was deliberately
designed to be a low budget shoot that could possibly be made on shoestring
backyard budget. Set in 1944, it would
be shot in black and white, not only have the look and feel of a period b-movie
but also to neatly obscure deficiencies in
cheap production. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi19pVLZs5ox2DgsCcS1a_3gOykSudwi95HYZ8KMrSaQhbkU-or3AFDDeJCN2eLfp2wtn_zbCIVuFEJpU_ivrPf6YKsXZ_AG7DjZ65W2CMJwYc7LqeiD8E02HmDwtsbSAu95OkgM8BJpg4/s1600/jp5541.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi19pVLZs5ox2DgsCcS1a_3gOykSudwi95HYZ8KMrSaQhbkU-or3AFDDeJCN2eLfp2wtn_zbCIVuFEJpU_ivrPf6YKsXZ_AG7DjZ65W2CMJwYc7LqeiD8E02HmDwtsbSAu95OkgM8BJpg4/s320/jp5541.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The <i>Douglas DC-3</i> Commercial Airliner</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">It begins in an airport on Haiti. Outside a tropical stock-footage storm is
brewing. There are a small group of
passengers waiting to catch the last flight from the island. A title card sets the scene, explaining that
with the outbreak of war, the Americans had abandoned their occupation of Haiti
to divert their forces elsewhere. In
their absence, hostilities had broken out with the Dominican Republic and the
last remaining foreign residents are anxious to flee. Amongst this small group is a nervous and
agitated French doctor, a young English couple named Jack and Sally and a
mysterious quiet American who keeps himself separate from the group.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">We cut to the Haitian crew, fighting against lashing rain
and wind to load the small prop aircraft.
Conspicuously they are struggling with a heavy crate designed to hold
live cargo. Ominously, it seems to be
struggling back. As the storm worsens,
they are hurried complete their task and fail to secure the load properly.</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYnZ1CmP925YFibFWjGAiDt6ZmNEE1tWJ7jJ9_r45Grwq5mb6r43QiX7gpCZwXXDuvhzHeA99qBXXx-ERGUWIhS6tlY4ZWTLwNYOitMZ0bKnI_B4zV7h_R388bEygAK9ch8kelz7obpiU/s1600/BE063631.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYnZ1CmP925YFibFWjGAiDt6ZmNEE1tWJ7jJ9_r45Grwq5mb6r43QiX7gpCZwXXDuvhzHeA99qBXXx-ERGUWIhS6tlY4ZWTLwNYOitMZ0bKnI_B4zV7h_R388bEygAK9ch8kelz7obpiU/s320/BE063631.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">The 1940's were the early years on commercial air travel, </span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">with the wartime skies, limited navigation technology,</span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">claustrophobia and zombies making even the shortest</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">journeys fraught with peril</span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i> </i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Finally, the plane is cleared for takeoff and our passengers
are safely installed in their seats. The
ascent, however, is troubled and we cut to the cargo hold where the crate has
shifted dangerously. When the (plainly doomed) co-pilot descends to investigate,
he discovers that the crate actually contained an undead stowaway and is
promptly attacked and bitten for his trouble.
Struggling back to the cockpit, he barely has time to explain to the
situation to the pilot before he joins the ranks of the undead and
attacks. After a short struggle, the
pilot calmly puts his dying colleague out of his misery. They are Haitian, you see, and know all about
zombies. The pilot secures the hold and
returns to the controls, before noticing he too has been bitten.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">We return for a moment to our passengers. The young man who has been so curious about
the Mysterious American, suddenly jumps from his seat in excitement. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">"I know who you are!" he exclaims, but before he
can finish, the plane dips into a steep nosedive, throwing the cabin into
panic. The Mysterious American reacts first, rushing to the cockpit. It has been locked from the inside. He calls to the pilot in English. There is no answer. He tries again in perfect French. This time the pilot responds, weakened but
still alive for the moment. The pilot
politely apologises but explains that the plane can never be allowed to reach
its destination. He adds a final line
beneath a dying gasp, which the American has to press his ear to the door to
hear. This is unsubtitled and muffled
inaudible from the Francophone audiences. The American promptly breaks down the
door and absorbs the bloody scene that greets him. With professional calm, he moves the pale and
groaning pilot aside. He sits in the
pilots seat and pulls up, stabilising the plane just in time. He removes his braces and ties them to the
control yoke, keeping the flight steady.
Before he has time for breath, the cargo hatch splinters open and the
first zombie begins to crawl out. Behind
him, the now zombified pilot rises unsteadily to its feet. The American decides it is time to retreat
and rushes out to his fellow passengers, forcing them from their seats and
leading them to the second cabin at the rear of the plane, two shuffling
zombies close behind.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoJ31js6nihJwfercU5v0q0J87RFjg0mHqy3EDtK7O6Nc_L2f4BPqCrYs_J7jvsm06c9pGxxv6ZuZ18sQLBK6Y5Z6PC1AJJawuWGEiNG6aHbbfUdBA__ajymuvsgTrmeS1oY6Ik1zupuk/s1600/Annex+-+Stewart%252C+James+%2528Glenn+Miller+Story%252C+The%2529_01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoJ31js6nihJwfercU5v0q0J87RFjg0mHqy3EDtK7O6Nc_L2f4BPqCrYs_J7jvsm06c9pGxxv6ZuZ18sQLBK6Y5Z6PC1AJJawuWGEiNG6aHbbfUdBA__ajymuvsgTrmeS1oY6Ik1zupuk/s320/Annex+-+Stewart%252C+James+%2528Glenn+Miller+Story%252C+The%2529_01.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">James Steward as Glenn Miller, Secret Agent</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">Barricaded from the undead in the rear compartment, without
weapons, in a plane without a pilot, their ordeal now properly begins. Naturally, there are a series and twists and
revelations as the passengers begin to turn on each other. The first twist is the identity of the
Mysterious American, who is revealed as bandleader Glenn Miller. This is foreshadowed by a lovably folksy
approach to the character, designed to evoke the performance of James Stewart. Astute viewers may even notice that the final
phone call Miller makes from the airport is written as the other side of the
phone call taken by Millers wife in <i>The Glenn Miller Story (1954)</i>, before his
real life disappearance and supposed death when his plane crashed over the
English Channel.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">In this movie, it becomes clear that Miller is lying during
this call when he talks of how well his tour of Europe has been going. It is explained that his career as a
bandleader is a cover for his actual role as a wartime secret agent. Miller is our hero in this movie and there is
much mileage from his laid back and unflappable reaction to increasingly
extreme events. He is a gentleman, even
to the point of putting himself in perilous danger. He never swears and responds to much of the
later shock and splatter in gentle and inoffensive 40's colloquialisms such as
"gosh", "gee" and "holy moly!" Nonetheless, it is Miller who initially
seizes control of the situation and rallies the passengers in numerous attempts
to fight back and regain control of the plane.
I like to think of the unofficial subtitle of the movie as <i>The Glenn
Miller Story, Part 2</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvqCQ-BbALR4DGG6J7L_1-Wzg9LCIrxMf3PDAfrtjYFlLT6TBflLVota0Yy0b3GeJvESB-rQfZGAc7MsHFJ0VsmL3boi3LL7ggagzVX9RRw2bICjA5RztNAs5OkMUTq_TyxfeSWRN7F9g/s1600/black_and_white_zombies-11279.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvqCQ-BbALR4DGG6J7L_1-Wzg9LCIrxMf3PDAfrtjYFlLT6TBflLVota0Yy0b3GeJvESB-rQfZGAc7MsHFJ0VsmL3boi3LL7ggagzVX9RRw2bICjA5RztNAs5OkMUTq_TyxfeSWRN7F9g/s320/black_and_white_zombies-11279.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Zombies! More zombies!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">Inevitably, the cast are reduced by numerous attempts to
reach the cockpit, swelling the ranks of the undead. First, they try to climb above the cabin
through the utility ducts I imagine might be found there, but the ceiling
panels give way and lead to a claustrophobic struggle and a retreat back to the
rear compartment. Next they descend into
the cargo hold, where Jack is attacked and his wife Sally dispatches the
resultant zombie with an efficiency that ensures she steps up to take the role
of spunky heroine.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Whilst in the cargo hold, we reach the second major
character twist when the name of the French Doctor is found printed on the
crate that had contained the original zombie.
It is revealed that he is a Nazi collaborator attempting to smuggle the
zombie plague into North America. Faced
with the anger of his fellow passengers and the polite interrogation of Miller,
he explains in a long sober monologue how he had been based in Haiti to
discover whether zombification was a potential weapon for the Third Reich. His studies had revealed that it was
impossible to train the zombies, their violence was indiscriminate and their
destruction total, but he instead reported the opposite. He fooled his superiors into assisting in the
launch of their supposed super weapon, knowing full well it eventually would
destroy the entire human world, Axis and Allies alike. It becomes clear that his intimate exposure
to the horrors of the war had led him to believe that humanity in its entirety
was a plague and irredeemable. He
concludes his speech with the assertion that we are already not that different
from the undead and they represent the only logical evolutionary step.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The Doctor is plainly the villain of the piece. The entire situation is his fault and he
repeatedly frustrates the passengers attempts to save themselves, but he does
begin to come across as somewhat sympathetic.
He sees the violence as a necessity for the atonement of his sins, yet
is repeatedly shown to be disturbed by it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtCOIKRgxTPb8ahFzvNVA_nKxiz22gLG8bkI7JlY3DCYaTLEyANcjpiyZ0tW2PR8TYGQCGZdGJiLrT3t1G0BuDEgAzuduoS3sVTirV3AxQWshN5tNLDfrXwHOr1O1qSGFSoMVxeFo1AVU/s1600/pd1b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtCOIKRgxTPb8ahFzvNVA_nKxiz22gLG8bkI7JlY3DCYaTLEyANcjpiyZ0tW2PR8TYGQCGZdGJiLrT3t1G0BuDEgAzuduoS3sVTirV3AxQWshN5tNLDfrXwHOr1O1qSGFSoMVxeFo1AVU/s320/pd1b.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Unfortunately, <i>Flight of the Living Dead</i> (2006) has </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">since beaten me to the pun and the setting,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">but where is Glenn Miller, darn it!</span></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">The finale takes place back in the cargo hold with only
Miller, Sally, the Hostess and the now captive and restrained Docter left
alive. To emphasise their predicament -
and in a blatant audience pleasing nod to Romero's <i>Dawn of the Dead (1978)</i> - we cut
for a moment to our zombified cast on the passenger deck, shuffling the aisle
or slouched in their seats awkwardly, killing time until their arrival. Now realising that the plane and it's zombie
payload must be destroyed, Miller announces he has a plan. He explains that the pilot, in his dying gasp
(remember that?), had told him there were explosives and parachutes in the
cargo hold. They can set up the aircraft
to explode and escape through the cargo hatch.
When pressed as to why he had waited all this time to bring this up,
Miller sadly adds that there are only three parachutes. The four of them exchange anxious glances,
then turn to look grimly at the Doctor.
He bursts into laughter. When asked by Miller what he finds "so
darn funny", the Doctor shrugs and urges them to leave him. Miller is reluctant, but Sally is just plain
suspicious. She shakes the Doctor violently by the collar until he confesses
that he had seen one of them bitten in an earlier struggle. As he refuses to reveal who, he slips and
knocks his head against the bulkhead, passing out cold. Frustrated, Sally suddenly announces:
"We don't have time for this, take off your clothes!"</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">There follows a short homage to both 40's screwball comedy
and the blood test scene from John Carpenters <i>The Thing (1982)</i>, as the trio
awkwardly undress to their underwear to examine each other for bites or
scratches. Miller, in particular, uncomfortably blushes as he covers his
embarrassment with one hand and his eyes with the other, pausing only to peek
through his fingers when "it's safe."
It transpires the Hostess has been bitten. Uncertain what to do, she runs back into the
compartment of the plane, leaving the door wide and the survivors at the mercy
of the now approaching zombies.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">With no time to dress, Miller rips open the cargo netting
and pulls out the parachutes, a life raft and a flaregun. Sally meanwhile, has donned the parachute and
pressed the button to open the hydraulic cargo bay doors. She holds tight to the netting as the wind
roars whips around her. Miller, also
wearing his parachute, is calmly checking the flare gun. Sally urges him to hurry, but he seemingly
can't hear her. She calls again and this
time he works his way toward her. He
leans in close so she can hear: "Sorry Sally, there aren't any explosives,
but this little fellow should do the trick.
Count to 20 and pull this cord."
He then gently pushes the life raft pack into her arms and she is sucked
out into the air.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWr7I6nv-_ISpDZPCX3QjeqKw6clciXs_bJ_KUpzuMvDR7d4MX9SRc_4xXQBqWTcOA5MjTG5lwFg4TBqWITt_Qq8dS-E_9jJazTWJGTEK4WIbpRte8MdrZ2HfUGK5Hc9p9OqpjGtKmRDs/s1600/142131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWr7I6nv-_ISpDZPCX3QjeqKw6clciXs_bJ_KUpzuMvDR7d4MX9SRc_4xXQBqWTcOA5MjTG5lwFg4TBqWITt_Qq8dS-E_9jJazTWJGTEK4WIbpRte8MdrZ2HfUGK5Hc9p9OqpjGtKmRDs/s320/142131.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">A plane goes down in stock footage from WWII</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">He stands in the open bay doors as the zombies finally
approach, closes his eyes and lifts the flare gun to the fuel line. Just to make sure everyone is clear on the
science, there is a DANGER: HIGHLY FLAMMABLE sign on the piping.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">We cut to Sally, her parachute open, still clutching the
life raft pack, floating gently toward the sea.
She looks up at the plane, a tiny speck high above her, you could almost
mistake it for a model. There is a flash
and the aircraft explodes in ball of fire.
If budget allows, you could even watch the burning debris leave a feint
fiery trail as it falls.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">We fade to black. After a suitable beat, we cut back to a
close up of Sally, now lying in the raft, one hand trailing in the vast
ocean. Suddenly there is the sound of a
foghorn. She stands up and gazes out to
sea, she can see nothing. She turns and
behind her is the prow of navy cruiser, uniformed sailors line the deck,
beaming down at her in her standing in the little raft like a lost 40's pinup.
Uncertain what to do, she gives a salute and the deck erupts into cheers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The End.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Although it's not, because there is a final post credits
scene. We cut to a dense lush
jungle. The camera follows the line of
suspended parachute straps, until it settles on Miller hanging upside down from
the trees. He is charred and his hair is
still lightly smoking, but he is very much alive. He struggles to unclasp his harness before a
loud and monstrous roar shakes the forest canopy around him. Startled, he adjusts his cracked glasses and
stares out toward the unseen menace. He
exclaims "Oh...gosh!" and we cut to black.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">It's pretty amusing to me that I thought it a good idea to
set up a sequel, just in case. I suppose
I couldn't bring myself to kill off such a gosh darned nice guy. If there was a lesson learned from this early
attempt at horror, it's just that maybe I'm not mean spirited enough to have
the tools to generate any real fear or dread in my writing. If that didn't come off the rails enough
for you, just wait until you read my crimes against Science Fiction.</span></div>matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-11690888777734080532011-08-10T14:56:00.000-07:002012-02-14T06:37:08.822-08:00Dog Soldier: a short story<style>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><b>On November 3rd, 1957, the Russian Space Agency launched
Sputnik 2 from the Baikonur Cosmodrome.
Onboard this satellite was a lone intrepid traveller, a mongrel dog
named Laika. Little Laika was the first
living creature to successfully travel in orbit, but this is not his short
story.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinq2nL7QsyG_auM4mTQWnrzCqCdiD7uxxUf-SamcQjbDrFN5TrzErpOdidImazh6j-gIccH3HocjODKofgdmbUKMyvvWizfGPpPT4zf7-pWSbJ5f5Rn0EKBwyMbNgcavWueq2WfJAZrSQ/s1600/laika2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinq2nL7QsyG_auM4mTQWnrzCqCdiD7uxxUf-SamcQjbDrFN5TrzErpOdidImazh6j-gIccH3HocjODKofgdmbUKMyvvWizfGPpPT4zf7-pWSbJ5f5Rn0EKBwyMbNgcavWueq2WfJAZrSQ/s1600/laika2.jpg" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Laika bravely prepares for launch at the</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Baikonur Cosmodrome</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Sputnik 2 demonstrated to the Americans just how far ahead
the Soviet space program was. As the
Cold War Space Race began in earnest, a panic set in to redress the apparent
technological imbalance and prove the supremacy of the American Space program.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Whilst the Americans usually preferred using primates in
spaceflight tests, for various physiological and symbolic reasons a dog was
chosen for the following attempt at a planetary orbit. So, on November 29,
1961, a young Alsatian named Major made a pioneering dual orbit around the
Earth in a Mercury capsule as preparation for the following manned flight.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">On his safe return, Major was retired. As government property, Major would probably
have been euthanised had he not shared his retirement with NASA Professor Daryl
MacIntyre.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">“To me he was a symbol of our achievement, a brave friend
and a true American hero,” explained MacIntyre, “Our entire research team had
bonded with him and his survival on re-entry had marked a turning point in our
space program. His neutralisation would
have been a public relations disaster.”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Major enjoyed his civilian status for only a short while
before Prof. MacIntyres’ son, Jamie, a 2<sup>nd</sup> Lieutenant assigned to
the US Scout Dog Unit, suggested that Major could return to the service of his
country. In early February 1968, Major
officially enlisted at Fort Benning, Georgia, undergoing basic training with
the 48th Scout Dog Platoon. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Filled with patriotic enthusiasm, Major excelled in his new
role. However, before Major could
properly settle into the routine of the peacetime military lifestyle, the same
fear of communism that had originally launched his flight into space would soon
send Major on a new and very different mission on behalf of his country. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcFYMd8LGmCuxeCo2-B87OhtkXQcT0RGHmIugj_TzKA6Lwq-1cp9MaN_sBGajcnDeYvTLxNWOw5WRkZgyII20IpQYWHze-_Bvle4aKPTMIQv2VRH8-7ONfvY2jMuTJmbUdA_baK6dt47M/s1600/wardogs_vietnam_1967_375.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcFYMd8LGmCuxeCo2-B87OhtkXQcT0RGHmIugj_TzKA6Lwq-1cp9MaN_sBGajcnDeYvTLxNWOw5WRkZgyII20IpQYWHze-_Bvle4aKPTMIQv2VRH8-7ONfvY2jMuTJmbUdA_baK6dt47M/s400/wardogs_vietnam_1967_375.jpg" width="256" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Lance Corporal Ralph H. McWilliam & his</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">scout dog, Vietnam, November 1967</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">In November 1963 puppet President Diem of Vietnam had been
overthrown and executed. By 1964, the
North Vietnamese, with the assistance of the Communist Viet Cong and aided by
allies in Russia and China, began a massive drive to conquer the entire
country. Fearing a communist takeover of the entire region, the United States
grew increasingly wary of the progress of Ho Chi Minh and the Viet Cong,
finally making the controversial decision to commit troops to liberate the
region. By 1968, the Vietnam war was
underway.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Despite his advancing years, “Major the Space Dog” had
become something of a troop mascot and was inseparable from MacIntyre and so,
on May 27th 1968, Major bravely travelled with his master to Bien Hoa with the
48th Scout Dog Platoon. After a month of
in country processing, the platoon began moving up the country to establish a
permanent base camp at LZ Sally, located about 30 miles NW of the Imperial
Capital of Hue. By August 17, 1968 the
platoon had become fully operational and began its first field assignment,
supporting the ground infantry missions of the 101st Division.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">By now Major had ably adapted to his new role as a highly
trained scout dog - capable of locating enemy tripwires, traps and troops at up
to a thousand yards - but soon after arriving in the unfamiliar jungles of
Vietnam, a melancholy aspect began to develop.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">“Major isolated himself from the other dogs.” relates Jim
MacIntyre, “You could see a change in those once loving, deep hazel eyes. It wasn’t fear, more like a gradual loss of
faith with his masters.”</span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfiiEpIL_wArhXwardLdH1rj068VjiU1fvPIU4Ekgxr_j-vhLBO53g55ro0KAVpWA8SfuYMYs9ckgvKKIwW2adN_P5SNLnGvzwuhdpR7RgR6Ysl6Ge_FS9eMYpGMFi4omCjKKCE_Jsni4/s1600/Hue1968.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfiiEpIL_wArhXwardLdH1rj068VjiU1fvPIU4Ekgxr_j-vhLBO53g55ro0KAVpWA8SfuYMYs9ckgvKKIwW2adN_P5SNLnGvzwuhdpR7RgR6Ysl6Ge_FS9eMYpGMFi4omCjKKCE_Jsni4/s320/Hue1968.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">US Marines fighting in Hue</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">During the next 12 months, MacIntyre and Major safely led
hundreds of troops through the jungles of Vietnam. They were a team both on and
off-duty.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">As the grim reality of the war unfolded, Major - like many other
young Americans both canine and human - became increasingly unstable and took
to drinking. This habit ensured he
became a popular character as he often calmed himself by lounging with the
conscripts who would always toss a few beers into his bowl. Despite the obvious bouts of depression, his
head always remained clear and he never once neglected his duties.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Many remember his bravery and uncanny instincts. One particular evening, despite the fact that
he was off-duty and had been drinking for hours, he sounded an alert moments
before an unexpected sniper attack and this swift action was credited with
saving many lives.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">“His love of life and his desire to protect those around him
at all costs, was his one enduring constant,” recalls MacIntyre.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Majors life was to reach its tragic end patrolling in the
mountains outside of Phu Bai. The platoon had only just left their base camp
when Major alerted them to a booby trap ahead.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">“He was getting more agitated as the platoon prepared to
move on. Feeling he was anxious, I tried
to calm him. I had been assured the area
was clear and was given the order to advance the platoon regardless. By now, there were serious doubts about
Majors competence. He was getting old
and had seen many friends disappear. I was beginning to think that he had
finally freaked out. I should have known
better.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">“As the order was given to move on, Major slipped my grasp
and ran ahead. In a desperate final
gesture to save his comrades, he ran forward into the dense jungle and
deliberately slipped the tripwire that would surely have been fatal to the
whole platoon. He didn’t stand a chance.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Majors modest final resting place would be the Hartsdale pet
cemetery on Central Park Avenue in New York.
Where a small oblong gravestone bears the name of Major along with the
12 other canine casualties of the 48th Scout Dog Platoon.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Jim MacIntyre, an anti-war campaigner since his return from
Vietnam in 1971 and appearing more like an aging deadhead with his long grey
ponytail and ragged goatee, remembers Major fondly,</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Vi2F-kwNvouEjUb5VsErU9iRzV96LpwDLE9AUqt53pHkxRbGw-HqLisNDndpGrxbA7F-FqPoe3TznQ_fFh-yqpYpFe2WDES4fE1p_9aMIGVjlUMF_ZVhzuUQeyHKjrJ9yInq0dOsJLc/s1600/ufo-4a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Vi2F-kwNvouEjUb5VsErU9iRzV96LpwDLE9AUqt53pHkxRbGw-HqLisNDndpGrxbA7F-FqPoe3TznQ_fFh-yqpYpFe2WDES4fE1p_9aMIGVjlUMF_ZVhzuUQeyHKjrJ9yInq0dOsJLc/s320/ufo-4a.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The planet Earth from orbit</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(Photo: NASA)</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: small;">“It upsets me to think about Majors final moments, his life
slipping away, hundreds of miles from his home and family.
I doubt he would have understood the purpose of his sacrifice after
seeing our tiny planet Earth from a cosmic distance. He saw a view that only a blessed few of us
will ever see, suspended high above us all in the heavens for just a few precious
hours. I think he caught a glimpse of
our lonliness and the foolishness of our petty conflicts.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I’m sure his last sad moments were filled with both
forgiveness, but confusion. He saw the best of us and the worst of us. I think he could never have comprehended the
senselessness of our war. He thought he
was fighting for a land of peace, I think in those final moments - dying in an
unfamiliar jungle - he realised we were just fighting over a piece of land. After all he had seen, I doubt he could
understand us at all.”</span></div>matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2762696494602823783.post-3817172324523999002011-08-01T18:16:00.000-07:002012-02-14T06:36:16.723-08:00Foreword: This is a Blog<style>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Hi there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">This is this is the first post of my first blog.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I guess this is where I am supposed to explain what this
blog is about. At the moment, I'm unsure
about that, so I'm writing a first ninja post in the hope that it will become
clear to both of us by the end. Please
be patient with me, I'm freestyling here.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: small;">This blog is not going to concentrate on one subject. I'm not an expert on anything enough to
present myself as an expert on anything.
I'm sometimes an artist, sometimes I run youth projects, sometimes I
work as a stage manager. I like music
and sometimes play records in between real musicians in bars and clubs. I like movies and probably watch somewhere
between an unhealthy and heroic amount.
I may or may not write about these things, but the chances are they will
inform the majority of my posts.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Mostly, this is a place to gather together some of my lost
words. I write a lot, but I'm only
actually a writer occasionally. I've been published in quite a few different
places and I've launched a whole crowd of anxious rambling words into a wide
range of subjects and genres. These
include art and movie reviews, short stories and terrible poetry, textbooks and
toilet walls. I suppose this blog is a
somewhere to bring some of my orphan writings together in one place. The ones that didn't fit anywhere else, the
wild ones, the outcasts. It's good to
know where they are, especially after dark.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">In case you were wondering, the title of my blog is taken
from a radio interview with a poet. He
was explaining how it wasn't the nebulous poetry of feelings or the vague
exploration of intangible experience that interested him. Instead, it was trying to capture the
patterns and narratives within the tangible experiences of life, the magic of
the everyday, the simple interactions between the real people and things that
surround us, the 'teapots and flicknives'.
It may have been John Cooper Clarke, John Hegley or Roger McGough, but I
can't recall exactly who it was. I tried to search for the quote, but it seems
to have vanished entirely. Who knows, I
may have dreamed the whole thing. Either
way, it seems appropriate place to start - these words don't quite fit anywhere
else, they don't have an agenda, but they are all coming from the same place,
share the same experiences and the same sense of humour, so they must
eventually find something in common. I
hope you enjoy their company.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Thank you for reading.
I hope you'll come back again some time.</span></div>matbarnetthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10021845755536760943noreply@blogger.com0