Still here!

So, here we are again, then, and of the five ongoing aims I can report:

1. 2 pounds have been lost - yeah!
2. A couple of reports have begun being written - yeah!
3. Ebay sales are continuing apace - anyone wishing to buy some hack biographies of Macca should head on over there pronto - yeah!
4. There's another entry on the blog - who said boo! - see me after class laddie!

So what's been knocking at the door of wonderment and rant this time.....

Double Cross!

Yet more disappointment with Channel 4, not about Jade Goody starting WWIII, but with the intriguingly

premised "Consent".

Billed as a first for TV, Consent showed the audience the build up to and fall out from an alleged rape, perpetrated on Anna Madeley (left), and her decision to report it to the Police, the aftermath of this, the eventual trial and the deliberation of a jury picked at random from the electoral roll, who then delivered a verdict.

The twist was that the jury did not see the "drama" part of the story before the trial as the viewers did, and had only the testimony of the actors and "performances" of the real life Police and Legal folk in the court to decide on.

Unfortunately it was soon clear that the producers had scheduled 2 hours of telly with a hook (the jury deliberations) that barely lasted 20. We saw the alleged victim and attacker carousing at the staff night out, him stepping somewhat over the line by following her into her room, her seeming quite happy to kiss him, and then no more until the next morning and a few days afterwards when she was told she had been promoted, but not to the more senior position she wanted, as that had gone to him.

In court the evidence revolved around was was said and done in the bedroom, that the viewer had not seen. So really we were as in the dark as the jury were, although by this time most viewers would probably have reached a view on the case.

As it was the fascinating, but short, deliberations of the jury ended with a not guilty verdict. Relief in the dock and tears in the public gallery, and then we saw some more of the encounter. Now it was clear it had not been consensual and she had been raped. However, I couldn't help but feel this was a bit of a cheap shot at the members of the jury who participated openly and willingly and I am sure that, had the verdict gone the other way, there was film ready to be used showing that a rape had clearly not taken place.

Come on TV, you can do better than this!

Buzz me up to...number 17

It had to happen eventually, but who knew it would be so soon? Since the singles charts (or "hit parade" if you prefer) embraced all legal downloads, it was inevitable that eventually some "joker" would persuade people to download something a bit random and get it into the top 20. For a while it looked like it was going to be the massed ranks of Doctroo fans pushing that song off the good-but-not-that-good Christmas special into "the only chart that counts". In fact it was the man who made me realise I'm not young anymore, Chris Moyles, who rallied his listeners to download "Honey To The Bee" by Billie Piper, from back she was still just Billie, and as I type it sits at number 17, a monument to the lost innocence of the charts.

I think downloading has been good for the chart, meaning the dog days of 40+ number ones a year may be a thing of the past, and good popular songs hang about for far longer - look at the Scissor Sisters and Razorlight hanging in with over 20 weeks apiece.

It does seem odd to me, however, that Moyles, as a DJ on a chart station should encourage the newly re-credible chart to be discredited, but then his appeal has always been a mystery to me. At least it's a good tune. As your grandfather would say....

Freedom!

I was informed recently of an Emu comic strip that ran in the 70s. Enquiring further I was told that what usually happened was that Emu would get himself into some scrape and at the end of the strip Rod would turn up and sort....HANG ON....REWIND....at the END of the strip Rod would turn up? Rod wasn't with Emu throughout? Apparently not! This struck me as just plain wrong. Emu without Rod was unthinkable! I am assured that I missed the glory days of Rod and Emu and that the Emu I remember, the petulant child clinging to his "mother"s skirts, only awakening to nip or punch another child before returning quickly to his sulks, is a pale shadow of the late 70s Emu who was a lot of fun!

Whatever, he had a go at miserable old "professional journalist" Michael Parkinson, who obviously hates all mention of the incident, so good luck to him, and the much missed Rod.

I used to be a big fan of the Pink Windmill Show (plenty of clips available on YouTube for a Proustian nostalgia rush) and always preferred Grotbags, Croc and Robot Redford to Rod and Emu anyway!

All together now...There's somebody at the door, there's somebody at the door.....

Lord of all the Beasts of the Earth and Fishes of the Sea

....it's Idi Amin!

Saw the long-awaited film version of the Giles Foden novel about a young Scottish doctor taken under the wing of vicious, unhinged but quite personable military dictator Idi Amin. It is a brilliant film, with a standout performance from Forest Whitaker as Amin, and a solid centre in James McAvoy's Nicholas Garrigan.

What the film brought out that I hadn't sensed quite as clearly in the novel was Garrigan's identifying with Amin's dislike of the English ex-pats as the son of another "colonised" nation.

However, I have illustrated this entry with the cover of the novel because, as good as the film is, it doesn't have the same grandeur as the novel, which can take it's time and show more of Garrigan's experiences among the ordinary people of Uganda. The time he spends at the rural mission take up more than a third of the book but are skimmed over in the film. Making it seem as though he spends only a few days there before being appointed Amin's personal physician. The character of the other ex-pat Doctor at the mission is also reduced substantially, and this is to the film's detriment as it is from this man that Garrigan learns the practical side of medicine and how to recognise and treat particularly African problems.

Nonetheless, well worth seeing, if only for the performance of Whitaker. Which brings me on to....

Backslappery!

....this year's Academy Award nominations. For the first time in a while I have missed a couple of the nominees for Best Picture. I wanted to see "The Departed" but it's a lo-o-o-ong film so I never got round to it. (CCB's theory on film length - if you can tell the story of "Citizen Kane" and "Carry On Camping" in less than 100 minutes - why make films any longer?)

I never really fancied Little Miss Sunshine as it didn't look like they'd been faithful enough to the book. Given the large role he plays in the narrative, I would have expected Mr Happy to be on the poster, and even the little worm was missing!

"Letters From Iwo Jima" is in foreign, although I have seen "Babel" and it was pretty much all in foreign too. "Babel" is a good film, but not a great film and shares an identical structure with last year's winner "Crash", except it isn't as good, and (the cardinal sin) it lasts longer. Which only leaves "The Queen" which I hadn't realised the Americans has so taken to their hearts. Perhaps if the many British "jokes" - "Tell Gordon he'll have to hang on!" - don't resonate it seems more poignant and heart-felt. Peter Morgan must be rubbing his hands with glee!

Surely Peter Baynham's nomination as one of the writers of "Borat" marks the only time an Oscar nominee has appeared in a Pot Noodle commercial.

As I said above, Forest Whitaker's portrayal of Idi Amin is well worthy of any prize awarded for anything, and it would be great to see him accept his award in the Helen Mirren style; "You didn't fall in love with me, you fell in love with Idi Amin...."

Let's go round again !

New Year, New Me!

New posts!

New incentive!

Read on!

A cleansing ritual to self-assessment and repentance

On New Year's day we had a fantastic meal with my girlfriend Fiona's brother, his wife and her family. This family have a tradition of setting aims for themselves over the year, and ajudging their progress at the beginning of the next. This judging also includes a prize giving and, presumably, bragging rights for the year ahead.

Myself and Fiona have become involved in the project this year, and I intend to recount my progress via this blog. Hopefully this will give a bit of impetus to the Valves and mean I can find something to write about on a more regular basis. Be warned, however, this will mean more rambling, more unjustifiable views and more florid language!

Anyway my aims, and my progress so far are as follows:

1. A weight loss aim, I must lose 3 stone before the end of the year. So far I have only had one weigh in, so I know where I'm starting from, but progress is difficult to measure thus far.

2. A work aim, to have at least 9 reports published this year. I'm not a fool so I can't reveal the nature of my work (part of it demands confidentiality and my reports are necessarily published anonymously) but Fiona will be the adjudicator for this. I have one report already at second draft stage and two more have been approved for publication internally (there is an external opportunity for comment also) so I think I'm well on the way with this.

3. A home aim, to sell all the stuff I have earmarked as being for selling on eBay. I have not done anything on this aim since the New Year.

4.A creative aim, to post at least once a month on the Valves. I'm doing it now! Well done me!

5. A cultural and money-saving aim - to see fewer shows at the Fringe this year than the arts editor of the Scotsman. He saw 28 last year, and I saw more, and as an ordinary punter, I paid for all mine too. In order to wean myself off the Fringe and to save money I will attempt to see fewer.

You will notice the absence of any mention of The Macca Project there. Maybe in 2008?

"A brilliant bunch of guys"

I have been reading since Christmas day a fine present from Fiona's parents, Clive James' fourth volume of autobiography - "North Face of Soho".

I find it a wonderful but frustrating read. Wonderful because each page drips with James-ian wit; on an offer to fund the publication of a biography of Louis MacNeice : "There were no big advances in those days, but the sum he proposed was more like a retreat.", and it is a book you can hear the audio version of as you read it as it is written in the same rhythm and cadence as James' speech. Frustrating because it makes me wonder if there is any point in my writing anything when it cannot compare to the standard set by James. Have faith, gentle reader, I shall continue regardless.

The chapter I've just read contains what may be a dig at Victoria Wood, so my opinion of Clive has gone down a tad as a result.

Of course, one of Clive's greatest attributes for me is his willingness to accept popular culture as being as relevant and lively as high culture, and one can only speculate as to how he would review the glut of reality programming currently blocking our tubes.

Back to reality

Just when we breathe a sigh of relief that Mark and Karen had lifted the trophy they so richly deserved on "Strictly" back comes Celebrity Big Brother for a fifth run, and the longest yet!

In fact there has been an explosion of reality TV since the New Year began, with Just The Two Of Us, Soapstar Superstar and CBB ensuring that only BBC 2 of the 4 majour channels (sorry, five I adored Big Love, but you're still not quite there) hasn't got a stripped reality show running at the moment. But I notice "Can Gerry Robinson Save The NHS?" begins on Monday.

I think CBB has less potential this year, than last, but a seemingly poor selection of housemates has been made up for in the shape of the legendary Ken Russell and the concrete ego that is Jermaine Jackson (parents, brace yourselves for I now intend to name my first child "Jermajesty" - the ludicrousness of the name meaning it matters not what sex the child is!). Fiona also seems to have taken a bit of a shine to former "Face man" Dirk Benedict.

Anyway, I will be attempting to limit my reality quotient this year, and have earmarked only "Strictly..." as a must watch, with an eye being kept on CBB, the regular BB, Britain's Got Talent and X-Factor (auditions for definite, thereafter a maybe). It is almost possible to measure out the whole year in reality if you go from CBB to Strictly Dance Fever to BB to X Factor to proper Strictly, and that is a scary prospect for television in Britain, which leads me on to....

"It smelt like a Sunday show to me..."

After the CBB show on Friday night, we watched the latest US-import on Channel 4, "Ugly Betty". Fiona was very taken with it, and I enjoyed it too, but it led me to thinking about the hype that has surrounded this and other US imports recently, and the black arts of TV scheduling.

It strikes me that very often TV schedulers don't really understand the viewing habits of the British public, which is odd as it was their forebears who created them. We are used to hour-long drama series lasting six or seven weeks, as they had done since the beginning of widespread TV in this country. Only in the last five years have these started to swell to 12 or 13 episodes (which are more useful numbers for overseas sales). Half-hour sitcoms are slightly different, as they don't usually require as much concentration, so the longer US-sized 22-26 week series have been successful for some time.

US drama, and now comedy-drama, is slightly different. The fruits of HBO, and now the major networks, often run to the same lengths. That makes a quarter of a year of The Sopranos, CSI, Desperate Housewives, Six Feet Under and the like. I get a definite sense of fatigue after about 8 or 9 weeks of these kind of shows, and the audience figures show that I am not alone in being tempted to bail out as the plots slow down and for several weeks the major plots don't seem to advance much.

Our schedulers seem to panic at this point and the shows are relegated to more out of the way slots, to make way for the new "next big thing". So, Ugly Betty, I am sure, will do well in it's highly publicised slot for a few weeks (possibly helped by being sandwiched between CBB), but I would be willing to put money that it won't end it's season in the same slot as it begun because once those ratings start to slide the schedulers will start to panic.

Far better, I feel to schedule a long-runner in a long-runner's slot (9 or 10pm on a weekday or 9pm on a Sunday) and let the audience stabilse more quickly.

P.S. These are the kind of arrogant opinions on subjects I really know nothing about that Fiona hates, so I will use the blog to vent my righteous opinions rather that subject her to further barrages of hot air....perhaps.

"The soundtrack of being stuck in the car with your parents"

The above is a quote about the radio show around which Robert Altman's final film "A Prairie Home Companion" is based. I went to see the film yesterday with Fiona, and we enjoyed it very much.

Like most of what will now definitely be called Altman's late-period films, there is little obvious concession to the standard structure of a story, the film begins with the end of an outdated mid-western radio variety show and takes us through the final show in real time, offering us an insight into the performers and crew of the show without ever patronising the audience by spoon-feeding the details of character or history.

As usual there is an ensemble cast of brilliant character actors, this time joined by Garrison Keillor as a fictionalised version of himself, all of whom inhabit their characters superbly and with a rare sense of believeability.

The heavy "Americana" music quotient means this film is not for everyone, and some will undoubtedly be frustrated by the more fantastic elements of the plot, but for fans of Altman, Keillor (who also wrote the script) or the original radio show, this will prove a wonderful treat.

Nothing Much To Shout About

A few months ago The Sunday Times' Culture section was revamped and one of the new regular columns saw a writer give about 300 words on their favourite record or song. Just before Christmas this was opened up to readers to submit pieces on their own favourites. Contrary to popular belief, I love reading other people's opinions just as much as I love expounding my own, so I was looking forward to this. I even intended to enter, my prospective choices being either Paul McCartney's "Beautiful Night", Cliff Richard's "We Don't Talk Anymore" (officially THE greatest pop record ever made), Van Morrison's "Wonderful Remark" or Pulp's "Mis-shapes". As it happens I didn't enter, but Stephen Thompson did, and he wrote about Mis-shapes. His article says everything mine would have, but better. Here it is:

"Mis-Shapes by Pulp

Even as a 16-year-old, the irony of private-school toffs jumping around to Common People was not lost on me. It was everybody’s favourite track on Pulp’s 1995 album, Different Class, but not mine. The song of choice for the socially awkward, painfully shy, bespectacled teen was Mis-Shapes. It screamed that it was okay to be different, because you were no longer alone. Jarvis Cocker’s lyrics empower the listener, including you and flattering you: “Brothers, sisters, can’t you see? The future’s owned by you and me... We won’t use guns, we won’t use bombs/We’ll use the one thing we’ve got more of — that’s our minds.” So, things might be shit now, but it won’t be like this for ever. Every time I heard that song, it was like an older, more successful version of me had put a friendly arm round my shoulder and said, “Don’t worry mate, everything’s going to be okay.”

Steven Thompson"