Tuesday 10 June 2008

Vampire's must have a bastard of a time in summer

Quite a long title but something I believe to be true, close to perpetual sunlight must really cut down on the amount of neck biting you can do. In fact certain places in the world were it never gets dark would be the perfect place to hide out when the world eventually gets destroyed by ravenous bloodsuckers.

Anyway, this rambling was bought to you by the fact I need serious distracting from packing my stuff up to move house. I have so many boxes for dvd's and books, yet I remain happy on that front as all my records and CD's are somewhere else being stored so I don't have to worry about moving that large bastard set of boxes just yet. Unfortunately as well I don't have my top hat which always helps with any cleaning/packing exercise.

How high is the water Momma? Just high enough for me to plug myself here (hehe plug), but yeah check 'THIS' bad boy out.

That magazine is who I am currently writing for and buried away in that link are my previews of X-files and the new Will Smith vehicle, Hancock. So yeah ch-ch-check it out.

To anyone who was looking for my normal scornful attempts at humour in this blog I'm sorry this really is just to pass the time and plug me :) By way of an apology, here is some cheese:



References and Fear,

Chris.


P.S anyone who gets that last reference bravo, pat yourself on the back and watch more Friends.

Thursday 5 June 2008

All the lights burning but no ones home

Long live self destruction, and long live music about such activities. Alkaline Trio spring immediately to mind, well their early stuff anyway, a trawl through alcohol induced loneliness and revenge fantasies involving radios and bathtubs.
But now welcome to the new kid on the block "Agony and Irony" due out in the next few weeks it is the bands 6th album (excluding collections and split albums, which actually contain some of the most wonderful material) and fans of the band, like myself, will possibly be slightly disheartened to hear that we appear to have encountered Crimson Mk.2. This isn't to say that Crimson was a bad album as such but there was something missing. The alcohol fueled revelry that flowed throughout the first few releases obviously had to be reigned in before they disappeared into a hole of damaged livers and speech impediments the likes of which Shane McGowan has never seen. But the new darkness on the trio's records seems to be coming from a new place, a place where there is no darkness, consequently making the style seem contrived and pointless.
Without the bile and wonderfully vitriolic joy that appeared behind the original songs, the teaser EP for "Agony and Irony" featuring three new songs seems, while musically proficient and effortlessly catchy, slightly empty.
But as attested to on Crimson, god bless catastrophe, as this might well be one...albeit a listenable one.

To happier, unhappier times.



Wings and Stolen ways,

Chris.

Wednesday 4 June 2008

Not So Bad Lads

This is an old interview piece I did with a bunch of filmmaking types in Falmouth, hopefully it'l make you want to see a film and hopefully not want to kill me for robbing you of very precious time. Enjoy.


“It’ll fuck with your head”. These are the last words in my meeting with the team behind the film “Diary of a Bad Lad”. Locked in a hotel bar on the Falmouth waterfront at 2am, lounging on scratchy, multicoloured settees it’s a fair assessment of how my head feels.

By Christopher Upton

It’s hard to know what to expect looking at the work of Blackburn resident and director Michael Booth. In his latest film as well as directing, he portrays the director on-screen using his own name, so you could be forgiven for confusing fact and fiction. Meeting Michael in a trendy coffee shop on the Falmouth waterfront he is sat in a plush red leather booth, wearing clothing a similar shade of grey to the sky outside and sipping at a cup of tea. He is accompanied in the booth by various members of the crew for Bad Lad, the writer Jon Williams, actor Paul Birtwistle, and producer of Booth’s latest film, Paul Coppack. It’s quite intimidating to be walking into this group, the descriptions of the characters these people play on screen which appear on their website created a fairly unpleasant bunch. They are sitting around drinking coffee all of them wearing various shades of grey, apart from Jon who wears a suit jacket over his darkened clothes. Sprawled out over the booth Jon certainly looks like the man in charge of proceedings.

Michael finds Falmouth to be a friendly place “Last night there were some ‘youths’ on the street and they said hello to us, do that in Manchester and the reaction would be quite a bit different”. With his film being about a group of filmmakers attempting to make a documentary about a decidedly dubious business, how receptive will the audience of the Cornish film festival be to the violence that’s ahead of them? “To show it in Manchester and to show it in Falmouth will be two completely different beasts, where we come from it’s not uncommon for people to go round with guns and be horrible scumbags” but Michael say’s later that he does not just want people to sit through it. The scenes of violence, rape and drug abuse intended to have a very visceral effect on the audience. And indeed throughout the late night screening several people leave the film before its conclusion.

But is the person behind the scenes of this hour and a half presentation of violence and sexual assault, as depraved as some of the scenes in the film would suggest? It would appear that when not directing the genital mutilation of characters on screen, which is without the doubt the most wince inducing scene of the festival, he is a Cinephile like so many others milling around during the festival, who creates film’s out of love for the medium instead of the material gains. Once we had adjourned to the back room of a hotel bar just down from the festival site the conversation turns to what got Michael into films “People in the industry want to work, people want do what they enjoy doing”, he explains drink in hand, “when we were kids watching film’s we weren’t thinking, I want to make big bucks, they just thought that’s what I’d really enjoy doing”. The people Michael works with are friends who stick with the productions because it affords them opportunities to exercise a bit more creative input, a level of which could not be found in the major budget films.
A sense of community is something Michael wanted to instil right from the start of production, by introducing a web forum for people with an interest in the development, “We actually started out with a free forum, then we realised we had some interest and I purchased some forum software”, and with the web being so important today would the production of Bad Lad gone ahead without it? “I think if we didn’t have the internet we wouldn’t be as far as we are now” Michael explains “I think its vitally important that you have something that people can respond to, where you’ve got a set identity in a community”. The web forum for Bad Lad has continued to be used for the next film that Michael is producing, which is titled Bar Stewards, and continues to be an invaluable source for interaction with fans, and a vitally important tool in promotion. With the night drawing to a close, and the hotel owners join the table and its amazingly odd settee arrangement, it seems strange that the internet, a tool which had made me nervous about meeting these characters had actually been the most useful thing for finding out that they weren’t such Bad Lads after all.

Tuesday 3 June 2008

A Burgeoning blog addiction

Lovely word there, I like big words for growing, especially cause it means I have more complex terms to reference erections with. Endless joy from intellectual innuendo.

But enough about my erection, I'm here today to discuss a very important topic: The way American Psycho was translated into a film destroying all that was intended by the book. I didn't realise until recently until re-reading the book that the film has put a very annoying line in a very annoying place.

BATEMAN (V.O.)
There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman, some
kind of abstraction, but there is no real me, only an
entity, something illusory, and though I can hide my cold
gaze and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping you
and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably
comparable: I simply am not there.

This bastard of a line mostly removes the film of a point at the end, that Patrick Bateman is so inconsequential that his crimes are never realised and that in his abstract world there is no self and everyone is simply what they own, because you already knew he was never really there as such.
Or at least thats what I think, I'm aware for people just watching the film the line probably passes by unnoticed and only resurfaces in the brain at the end, but gosh darn it stuck right in my craw and if the internet isn't for venting then I'm just going to have to make porn instead.

On a porn note though the scene with the Sussudio sex video is absolutely amazing, thanks to Christian Bale's magnificent performance as the slimy, material obsessed arse that is Bateman.




Primo.


Chainsaws and Theatrics,

Chris.

Monday 2 June 2008

Another one bites the dust...

"Tombstone hand and a graveyard mind, Just 22 and I don't mind dying."

Bo Diddley
R.I.P 02/06/08

A sad day for all fans of filthy garage rock 'n' roll music, the type of bluesy fuzz later performed by such luminaries as The Sonics, The Kingsmen, Green Fuzz and later bands such as The White Stripes and The Hives. Bo Diddley's music bridged a gap between rock and roll and blues and with its loud abrasive guitar, his deep, smooth and filthy vocals and all this combined a distorted blues jungle beat that influenced thousands of bands. He was more rocky than people like Muddy Waters and John Lee Hooker but still retained a Blues edge with songs like "I'm A Man" (performed with Muddy Waters as a different take on "Mannish Boy", a lovely ballad where Bo professes he can and will pretty much fuck anything).
For anyone who hasn't heard his music thats about the best description I think I can give, probably best to check it out yourself paying particular attentions to songs "Can't Judge a Book by it's Cover" and "Who Do You Love?" as a good starting point. But god speed Mr. Diddley, may your musical with continue to delight thousands more young scruffy tear aways. Originality was also reported to have died a little today.




Also on a non-musical note Yves St Laurent died, and a million people with questionable morals and even more questionable hairlines wept heavy fake tears. I imagine in such a world they have wonderful coffins and everyone bitches about how they think that shade of lining is just so last year. Not I'm speaking ill of the dead, although they probably aren't going to have a pop back, it's probably just some deep seated jealousy at their massive expendable wealth while I devour microwavable greasy death. Also a recurring sad feeling in the pit of my stomach, when every celebrity death I hear about isn't Brian Connoly's.
Still we can't have everything we want.

Laughs and Pianos,

Chris.