We few, we happy few!

I must say that writing in this blog is never as simple as I hope it to be when I start out, take for example my post from 2 weeks ago, originally intended to be a quick and juvenile look at Friday the 13th and it ends up becoming a fucking obituary....which nobody will read.

Still! Today's update will be short and sweet!

Maybe.

As those of you who read this (I.E. Me) know I am at University at the moment and after 2 long years of spending government money and being resented by tax payers & working folk nationwide, I am finally reaching the end of my journey.

You see, I've been in education now for nearly 20 years and although it's been a bumpy ride, it's been a ride I've for the most part enjoyed and I will be sad to finally get off. In doing so I will take my final step out of adolescence and into adulthood, and by step i mean told politely to get off and never return.

I always intended my stint at University to be my rights of passage to adulthood, had I made the trip at 18 with the rest of my hoody wearing, fringe growing, wrist slitting brethren from college I feel the experience would have been wasted. Truth be told, I had no idea what I wanted to do until I was 19 and had already been through college and had settled on a career path, alas a life of managing T.K. Maxx was not for me.

Contrary to what many people may think, I do not fit into that student stereotype of no good, money wasting layabout. No, University has been exactly what I set it out to be. When I started my course 2 years ago I had already built up some life experience, I'd experienced love for the first time, I'd learnt first hand the perils of over indulging in alcohol , I'd spent the entirety of my adolescence working and I was steadily leaving my teenage angst's behind. In other words, I was maturing.

Of course this was both a blessing and a curse, by the time I entered University stealing traffic cones, dressing up ironically & generally acting like a tit was something I had little time for and for around 80% of the student population the bloom was not yet off the rose. Still, this is not to say I didn't join in now and then and just because I said I was maturing, this doesn't mean I had matured.

The first year brought about it's fair share of hangovers, heartbreak & unwelcome stomach fat and a summer holiday of even more unwelcome home truths. The biggest of all being that I was no longer a child and although I relished my independence, I couldn't just revert back to my old ways when the bank was empty.

Money is something we all take for granted and when most people have it, they
can't spend it fast enough. Sure you could survive on a 30 pounds a month shopping budget, but when you've got over 1000 pounds in the bank why spend £1 on a pizza when you can spend 5 and boy oh boy won't you look sophisticated drinking this whisky, when everyone else will be getting the same effect from drinking beer. Point being, I've had more then enough first hand experience and observations of money wasting to know that I cannot afford to be so careless with it in the future. Still, I think swigging out of a bottle of Famous Grouse at a house party is pretty sexy, my many nights of sleeping alone will attest to that.

And then came the second year, the year when the partying takes a backseat (For the most part) to hard work, headaches and the inevitable disintegration of household relations.


They say that you don't know somebody until you live with them and this is something every second year student will eventually attest to. The year may start off with more ass kissing then a night at the Academy Awards, but after the honeymoon period is over (About 2 weeks) those 'friends forever' will quickly become the target of venomous tirades once your milk starts being 'borrowed' and those dishes start to pile up and just remember, it's never your fault, not at all, not even a little bit.

My biggest gripe with second year came mostly from observing my fellow students. You see, Film Studies is not exactly a subject that demands to be taken seriously. After all, don't we 'just sit around and watch films all day'. Well, no. Not at all, but that is the general consencus. Despite the hard work of the majority, there will alwyas be those who give the degree and on a grander scale, students, a bad name.


When I was growing up I always looked at University as the pinnacle of education, a home for the academic elite. It seems somewhere down the line standards slipped and any Wayne & Waynetta can now earn themselves a degree. This is a hard pill to swallow for me, not because I'm so great at what I do, but because I worked hard to get here and because I actually give a shit about the subject. An even harder one to swallow is that most students who earn a degree rarely go on to a career in that field, any teacher bitter at their own career (I.E. All of them) will keenly divulge that information to you.




The future's bright for the Portsmouth 2011 Film Studies graduates

But I knew all this going in and I went all the same. When all is said and done I'll have a degree and I'll find out first hand whether or not I can make it in that dog eat dog world of...um film critique. But at the risk of sounding like University has been miserable let me say that the good has far outweighed the bad. I've had experiences here that I'll remember for my entire life. Despite some hiccups along the way University has been what I always wanted it to be a few final years of memories that I can treasure, learn from and drunkenly lament when I'm old and bitter (more so).My last big learning curve when it comes to life experience. It has been and continues to be my rights of passage to adulthood and when its over I'll finally ready to enter the world of 9 to 5 or 9 to 10:30 should I end up on the doll.

At the risk of sentimentality....na fuck it, this is sentimental, it's been a hell of a ride and the best thing is, it's not over yet, with any luck this year will turn out to be the best of all and so, should any of my friends at uni be reading this let me say to you & my long suffering liver, Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more!

Hollmmmmeeesss!

I just watched Sherlock Holmes for the second time and guess what, I loved it. However, reviewing would require some semblence of effort and I'm too tired. I will say that although the film benefits from a terrific screenplay and some inspired action sequences, it is the two leads who steal the show, Law & Downey Jr have fantastic chemistry and watching those 2 on screen is joyous. The CGI was a bit naff in places and the speed at which the narrative plays out may put off some people, but aside from that, it's a great film and a perfectly acceptable way to spend 2 hours of your life.

Your star rating is ****1/4 (Just to make it all that more pretentious)

Friday the 13th.

No, no film review this time, just a quick rant (that was the original intention) about my miserable day

Aside from a series of bad slasher films, one associates Friday the 13th with bad luck, a day where an individual will be inexplicably cursed with misfortune and perhaps even disaster. Usually I'd dismiss this as superstitious rubbish, however for once the negativity is perhaps justified as I have had one of the worst days in quite some time.

For me personally, the day started off on a dull note as Weston was once again a victim of the stereotypical English Summer, showers of rain, in between fleeting bursts of sunshine. Wonderful. As the day progressed, I was the recipient of bad news (Nothing too serious and I'm against airing personal problems in public so I will not disclose the details.) and minor inconveniences that culminated with me being LATE FOR WORK. Unacceptable. Then, I started coming down with a cold and as any grown man will know, this calls for round the clock attention from your significant other and since she's not around I have to suffer....alone. Unacceptable.

And to top it all off, there will be no airing of Friday the 13th this evening.

'Joking' aside the day became truly tragic as the wrestling world suffered yet another loss.



Former WWE wrestler Lance/Garrisson Cade (Real name Lance McNaught) died today, apparently of heart failure.

I'd be lying if I said I was a fan of Lance, although he was a decent worker and had an entertaining feud with The Hardyz with tag team partner Trevor Murdoch I never found his ring work or personality particularly compelling and despite WWE's best efforts neither did the majority of their audience. However, despite this WWE continued to push him on television (Wrestling carny for building a star and featuring him heavily on their programming), unfortunately young Lance's career was derailed when he was found intoxicated and seizuring aboard a plane and was subsequently let go. As lead announcer and former head of talent relations JR put it 'he made a major league mistake whilst utilizing bad judgement'. Indeed.

You see, wrestling has always been riddled with all kinds of substance abuse, whether it be steroids, alcohol or recreational drug use. Although steroids have no doubt always been prominent in the sport and I am not educated in the area enough to say for certain,I'd go out on a lim and say that substance abuse really became a problem in the eighties and early nineties when wrestling was at it's peak and the wrestlers themselves lived the so called rock and roll lifestyle.Aside from recreational drug abuse, the physical nature of the business leads a lot of wrestlers to take prescription medication (Usually painkillers of some sort) which often leads to addiction, at the time of writing it seems that it was an addiction of this nature that cost young Lance Cade his life.


Over the years the major league promotions (Primarily WWE) made various attempts to put a stop to this kind of behaviour and in 2005 after the tragic death of Eddie Guerrero WWE instituted a Wellness policy to try and deter tragedies like this from happening again, wrestlers noticeably decreased in size and wrestlers who showed up in 'no condition to perform' were sent home on suspensions. However, after the media coverage died down and the heartache of those involved began to subside it went back to business as usual. All this would change just 2 years later.

In the summer of 2007 beloved wrestler Chris Benoit snapped and killed his wife, son and later himself. As well as being severely brain damaged from 20 + years of physicality and careless shots to the head, Benoit was also in possession of large quantities of steroids. The event has forever left a black mark on the sport and the immediate PR nightmare that followed forced WWE to try and clean up it's act, reinforcing its inconsistent wellness policy in an attempt to control any substance abuse by those under employment. As well as the wellness policy, WWE also reached out to any ex employees and offered to pay for them to enter rehab, more than likley in an attempt to repair its public image.

Although it was arguably the severe brain damage Benoit was suffering from that caused him to commit such an unspeakable act, the media circus that followed his death pointed the finger solely at substance abuse, specifically steroids. As a result WWE apparently no longer turns a blind eye and those who violate it are punished. Although the policy usually includes a 3 strikes and you're out rule, Cade was released almost immediately afterwards, no doubt because of the public nature of his offense and despite entering rehab, it seems that Cade never was able to overcome his addictions.

Having followed wrestling now for ten years, I have seen many wrestlers die young, some of whom I have been great fans of and it's always hard to take. Whether a wrestler is working the WWE road schedule or small venues for dirt money, those bumps and bruises take their toll and it's no wonder that some individuals are unable to avoid these traps.

It would be unfair to place the blame on WWE, they are cleaning up their act and they did offer a chance at rehabilitation once they released him, but as someone said to me today, you can lead a horse to water, but you can't force them to drink.

Lance was only 29 years old and is survived by his wife, two daughters and stepson.

'Unleash the Kraken!'

One of these days i'll write a review for a film I do actually like, perhaps even love. I actually find it easier and a lot less stressful to write a review for film's I dislike, perhaps this is a trend amongst film critics or perhaps it's because I am so frequently filled with hate and bitterness towards the world. Maybe.

Blockbusters are usually the easiest films to criticise, often vehicles for special effects and spectacular set pieces at the expense of a coherent narrative & scripting. The recent focus on 3D and the influx of films being produced specifically for the format has only exacerbated the problem. Still. I approached Clash of the Titans with an open mind, I mean, who doesn't like Greek mythology? Tales of good vs evil in fantastical ancient lands filled with beautiful women, gods and monsters and the stories often have a moral at there centre. Perfect material for a Hollywood blockbuster then. Obviously, I wasn't expecting a five star classic, but I was eagerly anticipating some throwaway fun, surely it could at least deliver that much.

Well. No.


First of all, a quick synopsis.

In Ancient Greece, a baby boy is found abandoned at sea and is taken in by a fisherman and his family and named Perseus. 12 years on and the people of Greece are revolting against the gods, as faith in the gods diminishes, so to does the power the gods posses. Enter Hades, who proposes a solution, however unbeknown st to the rest of the gods he has his own sinister agenda, as his plan will see Zeus fall and leave the world in chaos. When Hades actions cause the death of his foster family, Perseus sets out to seek vengeance, along the way learning that he is in fact the orphaned son of Zeus.

Got all that?

Well, first then it's important to mention that the aforementioned substitution of quality acting & narrative for aesthetic spectacle is in full effect here. If you can in fact call it such, the narrative is so clumsy you'd think Frank Spencer had a screenwriting credit. The first half of the film zips along at an insane speed, which is not a good thing, especially in the hands of such an apparently inept director. Characters appear and disappear so frequently that it's impossible to keep track and even if you could, you wouldn't want to as every character has apparently been lifted from an old dusty book of action cliche's. This is frankly, not a good thing. Take for example, the 'comedy' duo who accompany Perseus on his quest. Sure, the comedy sidekicks are a staple of the genre, but in say Star Wars there was a reason for 3P0 & R2 to actually be there, it's not as if Luke brought them along for their banter, especially as one of them can't even f*****g speak. Point is, there are plenty of characters here who serve no purpose whatsoever except to meet the expectations of the genre. Which they don't. Why even bother?

In fact the only character you could possibly care about is Perseus and that's not only because his character receives the most screen time, in now way is his character remotely interesting. In fact Perseus's foster family are on screen for such a small amount of time (5 minutes) that you won't care in the slightest and certainly won't care about his quest for justice. Of course, even the dullest character on paper can be brought to life by the right actor on screen, having done this twice (With Avatar & T4) I thought Sam Worthington would go 3 for 3 here. Unfortunately he only displays flashes of the charisma he demonstraedin his earlier efforts and spends most of the film stoic faced and delivering his lines with all the enthusiasm of an M.E sufferer giving a eulogy.

Any hope that veterans Liam Neeson and Ralph fiennes would deliver in the acting department were also quickly crushed in short order. If you have read my earlier post regarding Woody Harrelson, you may be familiar with my theory that A-List actors will often jump aboard vehicles like this for a big paycheck and an excuse to dress up and perform in any manner they choose. A chance to slum it for big money. Where as up and coming stars or those whose star has fallen must do as they're told and be happy for the work, or in the latters case, put on a brave face and then shed a tear whilst nobody's looking. In the case of Fiennes, it's a chance to perfect his Voldermort voice and experience the sensation of long locks of hair for the first time. Neeson just phones it in, delivering minimal dialogue and seems to have got the role on account of being really tall and that he can pull off a beard better than anyone.

And then there's Gemma Arteton, how this woman has achieved the success she has is totally beyond me. She is such a black hole of charisma that any semblance of sex appeal she may potentially have vanishes. So yeah, no props for acting in this film.




Just quickly, I should point out that throughout the film, Zeus is wearing a set of armour for no apparent reason other then he's Zeus and he can.....oh and it's REALLY shiny.

Which brings us to the much heralded special effects, admittedly they're pretty impressive, The Kraken inparticuarlar is really good and in 3D I can imagine it looking pretty spectacular, Medusa however is a bit of a let down and would have perhaps benefited from motion capture rather then an entirely computer generated design. Sadly, as impressive as some of the effects are, they are made redundant by the clumsy direction of the action sequences that showcase them. The sequence in which Perseus and company are ambushed by giant scorpions is so badly handled that it becomes hard to tell one character from another and with action sequences occurring so frequently the film never gains any momentum and never rises above being a mundane bore. On a positive note, the CGI enhanced locations and sets do look impressive and there are some lovely aerial shots of the ancient city of Argos. The ancient city of Currys is less impressive.


GET IT!


Still, Ancient Greece has never looked nicer. I presume it's Ancient Greece, I was a little confused at first because I had no idea that Greece was inhabited by everyone but Greeks themselves. Seriously, in the first five minutes we have been introduced to an Irish God, his evil English sibling, a disgruntled fisherman from Yorkshire and his adopted son who speaks with an AUSTRALIAN dialect. Seriously, I have no idea what was going on with the accents in this film, and I certainly had no idea Ancient Greece was such a multi cultural paradise.

And then there's the ridiculous and convoluted plot. Rather then going into meticulous detail, all I'll say is that the gods might have saved themselves a lot of trouble if they'd just handled their business themselves as oppose to getting other people to do their work for them, oh well, I guess standing around on a mountain all day is a lot harder then you think. Oh and one more thing. There are simpler ways to get people to worship you then staging an Apocalypse suggested to you by your banished, overly sinister and more than likely vengeful sibling.

All in all then this was a colossal failure. Adults will be so insulted by the ridiculous nature of the plot and onslaught of tedious action sequences and although this may not bother younger children the violence and gore certainly will.

Conclusion.

A badly directed, poorly acted debacle with too few visual treats to sustain its running time.

Pretentious star rating

*1/2 (All for Neeson's beard) out of *****