Writings

We Need To Talk About Kevin

2012-01-16T12:01:00.000-08:00

Film makers and authors alike have always enjoyed taking pot shots at the percieved facade of the suburban American family.
Ever since the mowing of the green lawns and the proping up of the white picket fences, the families that dwell within them have often been at the mercy of artists.
Whether it has been the escaped convicts of The Desperate Hours (1955) and Cape Fear (1962) that have bullied and tormented or the malfunctions of relationships portrayed in Revoultionary Road (2008) and American Beauty (1998) eroding its values, over the years suburban American families have taken a pasting.
Lynn Ramsey's 'We need to Talk About Kevin' leaves it truly in pieces, the picket fence burnt down, the green lawn torn up and Tilda Swinton's character Eva anxiously scratching red paint off the door.
'We Need To Talk About Kevin' an adaptation of Lionel Shrivers book of the same name, turns motherhood and the family base into the subject of horror. The threat does not come from relationship obstacles or escaped convicts but from the creation of a family member. Kevin (Ezra Miller) torments his mother from the pain of his birth and incessant screams of his infancy until the last time we see him.
Kevin unlike Eva is not a complex character, although there are instances in the film where his actions betray his natural behaviour, it all feels a little contrived. There are moments in the film, particuliarly during Kevin's childhood, where it seems that Kevin's eyes might turn red and his teddy bear might spontaneously combust. It is not always believable or interesting that he can be so rotten to his core when most of the film is portrayed with such arresting realism. The pantomine villany of Kevin is salvaged by the incredible performance of Tilda Swinton as Eva, a character that remains truly ambiguos throughout, her plain expressions hint at a strict coolness but her persistance and care with her son demonstrates her warmth. Swinton's character never gives too much away but the lingering menace of her son stays within her mind through out. 'We Need To Talk About Kevin' is a horror film without suspense,the horror is not impending but ever present. Eva is always immersed in the blood of her son's crimes, from her memory of the squashed tomatoes at the la tomatina festival she went to as a student to the cans of tomato soup that surround her in the supermarket, the horror stays with both Eva and the viewer.
There are several excellent shots that take seemingly pleasant or inocous moments and taints them with a sinister edge, the reflection of Eva's face in bent metal as she gives birth or the herd of ballerinas that surround her. All of this ofset by a notable soundtrack which juxtaposes itself rather than blending in. 'We Need To Talk About Kevin' is both chilling and arresting and only slightly let down by the Omen esque performance of ezra miller.

going back...

2011-11-29T10:35:00.001-08:00

I'm going back to Korea soon... With a pinch of luck I'll be there in early January or early February but it won't be far away. In all honest, once I'm there... I don't know if I'll ever want to go home.
Korea was magic when I was there in 2010 and most of 2011... it was so different to the monotony of home... the buzzing neon signs... the tall green mountains... the beautiful girls.. the fiery food. I enjoyed every second of it, I savoured every moment... Never in my life was I happier, never in my life did I feel so good. I made wonderful friends with Koreans and foreigners alike, I started to get pretty good at the language and I was running three times a week.

Coming home.. has just confirmed my worst fears.... recession, depression, the mundane and the redundant. The fucking television that just goes on and on and on and on and on. The boring, miserable people who speak in cliche's and retired old turns of phrase. Ask them about meaning and they will look non plussed. Ask them how they are feeling after a night of drinking and their eyes light up. It's sad miserable place with nothing to do... most nights I spend in front of my laptop chewing my fingers. Telling disinterested colleagues about Korea. Only my family and friends I care about it.

Is living in Korea just putting off reality? When I moan about England am I simply throwing my hands in the air about the cards I was dealt or drew for myself ?
Alot of people in Korea (foreigners) think of Korea as a refuge point, a place where those who can't or won't fit in back home are settled. Korea is a place to run to for some folks. I met some really cool people in Korea first time round, there were some wall flowers, party animals too. There are also people in Korea who really seem like they couldn't fit in anywhere, obnoxious, oafish people that bothered everyone, even well meaning, ultra polite koreans.

I don't know where I fit in with it all and I don't know if I'm running away from somewhere or running too somewhere. I feel like I'm made to feel guilty because I feel happy. An easy life is a false life. I don't know why I feel like that, in Korea I didn't borrow any money. I didn't get a loan... I got a free apartment but that is what was offered by my work. I taught kids (which I loved) and I worked very hard for 5 days a week. It still feels like cheating.

It feels like cheating because when I watch the news I watch my country creaking over the edge, I see unemployment figures soaring and I know that with a degree and a clean criminal record, I can escape the monotony and the prospect of a painful jobless adulthood.

Maybe it's because I dont value my degree or because I don't think it's much of a challenge living on planet mars.

I want to go back to Korea and I want to do the best possible job I can.
I want to make money and save money.
I want to be there for a long time and I want to feel good about it.

FAME

2009-12-30T03:10:00.000-08:00

Have this nagging idea about a tv series/book thing, about someone trying to get famous (Yes,I know there's a famous musical called Fame) but the series/book would have pretty dark undertones.

Two ideas that I've been fooling around with are an opening passage or piece of dialogue and an idea I had about a Comedian who kills people in order to tell tasteless jokes about their deaths.

The Opening passage/dialogue piece would go something like this

"Andy Warhol once said that everyone would be famous for 15 minutes but he didn't tell everyone what they would be famous for. I guess you don't really have a say in the matter, I mean what is it that your going to become famous for? Are you gonna be the lead singer of a band or write a children's book about a dog who can travel through time? Everyone could live with that kind of fame. I always wonder how it's going to strike me, am I gonna end up winning an Oscar? Or I am gonna get the kind of fame no-one wants, like being one of 10 poor barstards killed in an aircrash or ending up like one of those sad cunts who find a potato shaped like Mary Magdalen or do I end up living in a town with 100 people who have the share the same fucking name or some shit like that. Everyone was going to be famous at least for 15 minutes but you can be famous for walking around Sainsbury's with a shotgun, at this point in time that's not the kind of fame I wanted"

I also have amateur porn in my mind...I think there's something hilarious about amateur porn.

I would take some themes from Alain De Button's 'Status Anxiety' I think there are some excellent themes to be discussed within that work.

I would use it as an opportunity to talk about how our desire for fame is really our desire for love and attention.

I would talk about social evolution how people once known as 'unfortunates' are now known as 'tramps' or 'the homeless'

Musings

2009-12-14T02:16:00.000-08:00

I got up at 5.30 am this morning, my body clock has been twisted up due to late finishes and an inability to go to bed.

There was a power cut around 6.00, I had been reading the "the rough guide to South Korea" before everything turned black.

It's been over 2 months since my ex-girlfriend went to Australia, I must admit I feel better, feelings of grief were replaced by feelings of loneliness which were replaced a feeling of resentment. Although my general mood is better and I dwell far less on it than I had been, I don't think I could have a normal conversation with her.

Where a week ago I would have told her how I missed her and loved her, this week I would be pretty rude. I suppose this is how one deals with loss, one just tries to apply a mind set that they are comfortable with but I must say I don't miss her much anymore.

I feel somewhat stagnant at the moment, all my studies officially ended at the end of September and the results of which were revealed at the end of November. I plan to go to Korea next year but I often find myself consumed by nagging doubts, that I can't handle living away for so long, that I'll just do a midnight run, that I'll struggle to fit in, struggle to teach, maybe normal things for any prospective English teacher.

I am working many hours over the christmas holidays, I have found that chewing gum is a great stress reliever and also stimulates the brain. I don't know if there is any evidence in these claims but I would swear by the stuff for busy shifts!

I pretty much write this blog for myself but for those who are interested I work in a bar which has been the case for around two years.

blaar

2009-11-24T11:47:00.001-08:00

I want you to remember this.

I want you to remember how this felt when you sat nested in your large black coat, drunk and tired staring at the empty branches across the road that cracked and split the sky.

I want you to remember your insides.

I want you to remember how you rocked back and forth and how you told yourself "This is hard, this is hard, this is so hard."

I want you to remember how half of you felt like it peeled off the same way the bright leaves of summer trees did.

You should know that you cried as you wrote this, you listened to Into Dust by Mazzie Star and you tried to drain yourself of every tear that was left in you.

I want you to know how fucking lonely you felt and how helpless.

It is 12 months from now, I am seeing my grandfather without his shirt for the first time, they have attached him to an array of wires and tubes, numbers on screens that do not make sense to me surround him.

It is 11 months from now, I am speaking to Darren in Havana and talking with him, asking him when he is due to start working where I do.

It is New Years Day, I am sat in a hotel lobby with Vicky, Jade and Darren, we are drunk and drinking tea, I insist on going home but I stay. Earlier I had asked Darren what Vicky's story was.

It is January, I am at the beach staring out at wind turbines, it is late in the evening.

It is 5 weeks ago I am sitting in my room, and I am crying over her for the first time.

now February, she will tell me how she feels in ways that I will not be able to comprehend, we will kiss for the first time.

We will agree that it is weird. We will not stop.

March and we make love for the first time, she tells me how comfortable she is with me. I feel the same.

It is a month from now and I am telling her I will never speak to her again, she is crying.

It is May and we are in London, we are lost.

we are in Norwich walking around with neon sunglasses. I fall in love with her.

It is September we are sitting on the train she is giving me my birthday gifts, I know she is leaving soon.

It is yesterday I am rocking back and forth on a wall telling myself how hard this feels.

THING

2009-03-08T14:30:00.000-07:00

It started like so many nights before , 6 maybe 7 pints of lager , 5 vodka tonics and I have no idea how many cigarettes.
I left the pub under the thick lashes of winter rain and promptly found myself spinning over the mirrored kerb and tussling with my pockets.
I knew I had a few ciggies left , I knew that because I had bought 16 for about £8,
I knew that because I had bought 16 for about £8, 16 for £8, Malboro maybe , I don't know, 16 for £8.
I remember the grey tint of the clubs and the people I passed , the long slow blur of the night. I remember going on about those fags, I remember my lonely mumur and hissing.
I remember looking in the mirror and seeing a tragedy , a puffed up drunk face, tired red eyes and a distant expression.
I suppose of all of it , it was the expression that I think of most now , a long resigned stare, not surprised at the mess it saw before it.
By the time I got to the bus stop , I had found my cigarettes and sat slumped against the glass.
I remember an old muslim lady sat across from me , I remember how strictly she stared out into the road , bunched up and frail, putting on a brave face.
I thought about saying hello , about telling her not to worry , about telling her I was alright. Then I thought, why lie ? I wasn't alright , I was a cunt , pissed again, on my own, on a fucking wednesday at 35.You only get to this point when you've kept pushing away at people.
I think I probably slept on the bus, because a chunk of it is a blank, I was so pissed though I probably went and gave the old woman a load of abuse or sat at the back of the bus and sung the national anthem.
I remember coming home and pissing in the hedge , I remember that because a light upstairs went on and pretty soon after I had piss all over my trouser leg.
After that I don't really remember.

The class room this morning is busy, it's the first week back from term, like a gym in January, full of the misplaced optimism of people who will never change. I expect a third of these faces will attend every lecture I give maybe another third will go to over half of the lectures and the others I won't see until after Easter.
I couldn't say now that I didn't care, I didn't use to, the money was the same and so were the hours but the job had taken a hold of me. I had taken an interest in what

short story (edp)

2008-12-15T11:50:00.000-08:00

this is a short story , I entered for the EDP short story competition , I listened to alot of zero 7 and air when I was writing the summer idyll bits and mars by gustav holt for the parts in itallic. The theme of the competiton was "Norfolk : a county of stories" , I hate the title massively.

The Poppies Of Aylsham
Warm air breathed through the sunny reeds of grass, the little emerald stems of grass dancing with childhood abandon. Above only the blue sky, those long vast acres of distant heaven that not the Saxons, the Vikings nor the Normans had ever seized. Distant erratic sounds gently appeared and then fluttered away basking in the beauty of a rural scene. Along with the thin clean air Reg breathed it in, he would also breathe in the dignity of the tall old oaks that lined the fields, the useless twittering swallows that darted around with seemingly no essential purpose and the serenity of being home.

Lost in all its empty beauty Reg could see Tom and Jack hiding in the grass, buried within the rough . Jiggling with laughter they pushed their stubby little digits against their mouths and hissed at each other to hush as not to be found. Their poor tiny legs did them no good as they tried to stand, falling over their clumsy young stumps hoping that Reg would not see them.

Reg looked a little more, allowing them to suspend their illusion of invisibility , he turned his head slowly, furrowing his brow, every part of his face was a caricature , his thin lips screwed up and his eyes intensely sharpened. The more confused he looked, the more the long grass would giggle, the more a patch of it would wriggle and shake.

"Now wherever could they be ?" he asked aloud

There you were sat in the pub, the golden light of a summer evening falling through the window, drinking ale with the boys , talking about how you would miss old Aylsham but you would be back soon with tales of all the things you had done, serving king and country. How you loved those boys as if they were your brothers, singing and laughing, your blood and theirs . When Christmas came you'd all be back as heroes, how you felt you would be young forever.

Reg walked a little closer , deliberate in the pantomime of his walk , slowly and steadily pacing around the grass.

"sshhh… shhh… be quiet, he's gorta find us" he heard little Jack say
" I am being quiet" Tom gasped.

As Reg heard the laughing stop , he darted for them both, his hands outstretched yet only finding more field. Perhaps there was more in the minds of these young boys than Reg had thought, he was underestimating the wily little cubs.

Sitting upon the earth, somewhat tired, Reg thought he would leave the boys until they tired a little or it at least until it grew darker.

The sodden black dust threw up again, those long piercing screams whistling through the air and then coming violently at the ground. You had never seen a look in a man's face like that before, the crippling fear choked him dumb. Under your feet you felt the lice and the earth, under your feet you felt it waiting, coming like a promise.

After a while, Reg picked himself up and decided to walk home , knowing little peeps of laughter would follow him to the village. Taking them by invisible reins he walked toward the village , where he could share the burden of responsibility for the boys.

Little Tom Feek and little Jack Yaxley, effervescing in a summer orb, where time gently passes and things were slowing down, they tumbled around and screamed with laughter.

It comforted Reg to hear them happy, it helped him make sense of why he went away and for whom he had gone away.

Tom, the older of the two boys, would often decide what they would do, his days seemed to be spent in tireless pursuit , he enjoyed the simple things of childhood the most, were it running , hiding or playing sport , they were skills he took to with ease.

Reg noticed how Tom seemed to enjoy the beautiful triviality of these things and he also noticed how in Tom there was a nature that people could often draw from, people would often seek to see themselves in him, to relive their past.

How all of this county and all of this country seemed to be open for Tom, Reg often thought, how anything the boy wanted he could have.

Sucked up by the damn mud and ground, he held his trembling hands up, screaming for his mother. Screaming for her to take him from here, this land of twisted steel, this land of vile dirt and wailing skies. You were supposed to come home with him, that's what you had promised to his mother. You had heard him drawing sharp and panicked breaths crying himself to sleep, they had never told you or the boy. You went back for him and held his grip, you can not forget the way that bony, trembling white thing felt against your skin, you can not forget the promises he made you keep through his shortened breath, you will not let yourself forget.

Jack was not so fortunate , early on in his life he had been troubled by the obstacles handed down to him from his short sighted mother and clumsy father. He would amble and lag behind when the two lads played together and often when they hid it was Jack's feet or his arms Reg would see sticking out from the grass or behind a tree. Even at the age of 8 he seemed to wobble precariously over the earth , slowly and carefully chasing his young friend.

There was a sensibility in Jack that Tom admired , even in their young years Tom could never bring himself to tease Jack were he unable to climb as high as him , or stopped to breathe when they had been running as poor Jack often did. Tom loved his friend Jack because it was Jack who had nursed Tom's grazed knee when he had fallen , it was Jack who never rose to anger or being unkind . There was a safety in Jack's presence that Tom felt he could bathe himself in, a feeling that he would always have his friend around if anything bad were to happen.

You would have told him if he had lived that poor snivelling boy, no use to anyone in this hell, go home lad, you thought to yourself. If you shoot yourself in the foot, they'll let you go, they won't waste much time over a clumsy lad who couldn't hold his gun for the trembling. Sometimes you would look over at him staring in the distance, his gaze held at the empty grey skies wondering how soon he would be dead.
That's what bites at you the most , that nags and will not end its choke, the faces of those that were afraid, those who could not kick a stone in anger let alone kill a man , forced out here, in this scorched terrain.

Reg walked toward St. Michael's and the boys were now ahead, the old cobbled house of god before them, how stiff and straight it looked. The gravestones were another matter , age had bent the old grey planks crooked , their crumbling faces no longer bearing names.

The cenotaph , they had cared for well, it's dignity had not been worn by the crashing tides of time and against its concrete spine were the poppies, little red darlings, nestling safely against the stone.

Safe is what they would always be now , safe in the small green field of St. Michael's church , safe at home again.

Reg looked at the cenotaph again and saw the names of TOM FEEK and JACK YAXLEY , hearing the boys laughing again , he thought he would leave them here a while , wishing he had time to stay.

Mucking about (Please listen to tracks as you read each passage)

2008-12-15T11:23:00.000-08:00

UNTITLED STORY PROJECT

01 PYRAMID SONG – RADIOHEAD

The tablets fell gently to the bottom of the glass, they foamed and spat a billion white balloons to the surface. I thought about each bubble , how each one was like a little life, a little person swaying gently to the brim. Others had gone before it in their ascent to the top and others would go after it , their tiny fragile swim like every other tiny fragile swim , totally common yet totally unique.

I suppose some of this was due to the fact that I was still drunk and half asleep but the beauty I found in that little glass is no less significant to me now. I had not thought of bubbles, lives or people for a long time , I suppose I thought I had , I mean, most of my time was spent discussing other people but not as if they were real people.

It doesn't make much sense now I suppose but don't be concerned that I've found jesus, mohammed, buddah or any other kind of religious figurehead or that I got a six pack in thirty days , that I had a momment of clarity, that I attended a bullshit seminar in some no mark hotel lobby, I just learnt some things.

Those things resonated in me when I sat and stared at the glass and wondered how much it mattered to be a tiny bubble floating to the top of a tiny glass on a tiny planet in an infinite universe.

02 How to completley disappear – RADIOHEAD

What was going to make this hard was the way everyone was going to react , they would get caught up in the same way as each other. They would cry, they would shake their heads, they would ask how long and then they wouldn't see me anymore.

They'd see the dying yellow man , the dying yellow man who wasn't booking holidays anytime soon , the dying yellow man who wasn't looking forward to much because the dying yellow man didn't have much to look forward to.

I'm not brave enough to commit suicide , so I live with this , I live with this until kills me , the cancer inside of me . I live with not telling anyone about my condition and wondering what I am going to do for the next two years.

2008-12-15T03:58:00.000-08:00

something in my head today

2008-12-07T07:58:00.000-08:00

Screaming, bloody and visceral you entered this world, drenched in a slump of gore and sinew . Screaming for a breath of air your tiny purple body wriggles in the hands of a giant , and here you are . This is it, you are 24 waterless hours away from death, you must breathe oxygen for every single moment , all that separates you and the world from your tender vital organs are a few inches of skin. Your body will age and decay and yet the seasons will not relent, the winters will be no more warmer and the summers no more cooler. This is what you were given. But you did not want this , you wanted comfort , you wanted security, you wanted to live forever.

You found beauty in nature, but it was nature that gave you this , this fucking blind plummet of an existence , it was nature that gave you the sun that burns your skin and the diseases that want to riddle your body, it was nature that gave you your blurred vision and your clumsy balance.

So you took action , you built your cars and your factories and you grew unrelenting like the bacteria's that riddle sodden hands.

back

2008-11-24T15:04:00.000-08:00

I'm currently in the process of writing a few things at the moment , a short story for an EDP competition and some journalism to hopefully boost my prospective and currently ailing career.

I thought I would sign in as I had a couple of comments on a few posts which is encouraging enough for me to plough on with this. The blog isn't out of mind and if there is anyone out there in the web reading this, you can look forward to some fresh posts.

Asshole Kong

2008-07-31T11:00:00.000-07:00

Like someone with no social life and bad acne (well I say like..) I've rediscovered the world of classic video games.
Classic being an interesting term given that applies more directly to the old rather than masterful end of the description.
Classic video games are those which appeared around the time of my birth and are normally made up of no more than 8 bits.
Pac Man , Donkey Kong , Centipede, Pong and Asteroids are regarded as the Mustangs and Moonlight Sonatta's of the video game world , eternal art works that have stood the test of time.
Obviously the test of time in button basher land is far shorter than that of Classical Music or Classic cars but its hard to imagine most of the above titles won't be around or talked about in years to come.

The classic videogame world has probably never been better documented than in the brilliant King Of Kong which tells the tale of world record breakers and their pursuit of a high score that will stand forever.

Christ, that sounded like the back of the dvd , I wont ruin the plot here but the film is a superb document of how insular and competitive that world has become. Billy Mitchell the villain of the piece compares himself to the world war one pilot the Red Baron and waxes lyrical about his status as a world champion and what it takes.

On a parouse through Youtube I came across the brilliant ASSHOLE MARIO which is a typically blunt American translation of the japanese title (Hacker Mario: me making my freind play Mario). The difficulty of this game is beyond joypad smashing, it is so ridiculosly hard that is funny.

What is tragic about the clips is that they're more addictive than big bowl of crack , every obstacle looks difficult but is not impossible and the level design in some parts is work of einsteinan brilliance ( I'm not sure how many Mario levels he designed) however do check it out and reimerse yourself in a time before Movie tie-ins and hollywood scripted cut scenes.

The Dark Knight

2008-07-29T01:22:00.001-07:00

The Dark Knight is not a film short of reviews on the internet, gushing praise for Christopher Nolan's second Batman film can be found all over the place.
IMDB list it (on user based ratings) as the greatest film ever made carrying a score of 9.5 out of 10. The worst thing that any critic seems to want to say is that err... its a bit long and err... it could have a been a bit more fun.
Talk about nit picking, Batman was sort of 'fun' when Joel Schumacher took the reins for 'Batman Forever' and 'Batman and Robin' the less said about those spandex fests the better.
However, Its not hard to understand why Schumacher approached the superhero story so lightly when one considers he directed A Time To Kill in between them both.
The tyranny of racism in the deep south that has brought decades of loathing,murder and bloodshed and the tyranny of Mr.Freeze and Poison Ivy on the poor people of Gotham probably aren't the same .

The biggest problem with both Batman Forever and Batman and Robin in my view was that both films dawdled between being kitsch and serious. In Batman and Robin , for example there are plenty of cringe worthy jokes that will have you bending around the place like an MS sufferer on Ketamine but then Schumacher goes and makes Alfred Pennyworth all ill and shit which sort of suggests the film is at least semi serious.

I think the world would be ready for a kitsch Batman as long as Ben Stiller or Will Ferrell played the caped crusader and Adam West made an apperance as Alfred or something, imagine a quality comic line up recreating this scene.

That would be alot of fun and audiences would be expecting to laugh and it wouldn't fit in with Nolan's work , it would be a Batman film in its own ridiculos right.

Directors shouldn't mix the two, although The Dark Knight actually isn't short of laughs , the Joker has a few funny momments in the film but they work on a completley different level.

The points you find yourself laughing are the same points you find yourself genuinely petrified about what's going to happen next, it is a truly uniqe cinematic experience.

The most pleasing thing about the Dark Knight is that audiences have proved to producers that they want intelligent , well plotted storylines with strong acting performances and lashings of darkness.

With the film's success I can only hope that Hollywood will stop insulting its audiences and begin to create tales or at least retell tales that are better written and deal with more complex issues.

A word on the performances, although Heath Ledger is obviously bloody brilliant as the Joker but Gary Oldman's understated performance as commissioner Gordon is superb , Oldman isn't afforded the razzamatzz that Bale, Ledger or Eckhart enjoy but still delivers an accomplished performance.

In fact thats what makes the performance so notable , most actors will tell you that the hardest thing to do on stage is to answer the phone or buy something from a shop , the easiest things are to be eccentric or emotional.

Review I wrote for my myspace blog ages ago... pretty poor

2008-07-26T08:39:00.000-07:00

A Scanner Darkly is a strange,beautiful, concept album of a film that has a baroque density which at times frustrates you but also captures precisely the experience of being on drugs. Plot and dialog sort of drift past you as your transfixed by the fantastic cell shading and colours conjured by Richard Linklater, which sort of reminds me of doing mushrooms because however dazed and confused you seem to find yourself by the script the wonderful illuminations tend to distract you anyway. Having said that , although the plot is at best testing , the number of characters and locations is few enough to keep everything familiar . As performances go, Robert Downey JR is superb as the nervy, nerdy chemistry obsessed junkie. In probably one of his finest performances he conveys the kind of guy that explains what a drug is doing to your brain while your on it brilliantly, he seems to soak himself in the difficult dialog as well , it never looks like a struggle for him which perhaps can not be said of Keanu Reeves. Reeves is typically understated and vacant , his trademark husky stoner drawl makes his delivery appear forced and difficult but his portrayal of a man truly confused by what is happening around him comes through more notably. Harelson and Ryder both put in perfectly adequate performances. Rory Cochrane's portrayal of the heavy user Freck is exaggerated but adds some much needed humor to the intellectually dense head fuck. This is definitely a film to see before you die, not because it is one of the greatest ever but it is so incredibly distinct and will remained lodged into your mind long after you've seen it.

Costume Fire Story

2008-07-26T08:32:00.001-07:00

A Kingston University student remains in the Chelsea and Westminster burns unit after accidentally setting herself on fire.

Surbiton fire brigade was called at 23.22 last Saturday after Helen Snee, a second year marine biology student caught fire by a lighter at a sabbatical party at Kingston University’s Space Bar.

Snee arrived at a fancy dress party as a cloud, decked out in a costume of cling film and cotton wool, which is believed to have played a role in her immolation.

It was only thanks to the heroic bravery of her fellow members in the Sub Aqua Society that the injuries were not worse.

Dean Ayres and John Gane are believed to be among those who came to her rescue. The student union, while remaining cagey about the affair, praised those involved in the statement below.

London Ambulance services confirmed: “A 19 year old girl had been taken to Chelsea and Westminster burns unit as a priority with burns to her arm and back.”

River Online also understands that CID is investigating the incident and has reviewed the security cameras in the student union bar.

A worker for the student union, who did not wish to be named, said; “We’re not allowed to say anything about it because apparently it's really bad. CID is investigating the incident and everyone has been told to say nothing.”

The student union said in a statement: “On Saturday night, a second year student was involved in an incident in the KUSU Space Bar at Penrhyn Road. The incident involved the student accidentally setting themselves alight, and resulted in the student being admitted to Chelsea and Westminster burns unit with what are described as minor burns. The quick reactions of the on duty staff and friends of the student reduced the severity of the incident, and ensured the prompt response of the emergency services. We would like to publicly thank those involved in dealing with the incident for their actions, and wish the student involved a speedy recovery.”

Morissey

2008-07-26T08:31:00.001-07:00

Everything about Morrissey and his career has screamed iconic; the caricatured features, the mystery of his private life and heaven knows, the misery. Whether it be the NHS glasses and hearing aid he once wore on stage or the flowers that he swung around his head, Morrissey has alwaysloved icons. He decorated Smith’s singles and albums with old black and white faces; Diana Dors, pools winner Viv Nicholson and Elvis Presley to name but a few. He also wrote books about James Dean and B movie stars. When Morrissey moved to LA it seemed fitting that he became close friends with Nancy Sinatra, a woman not only iconic in her own right but the daughter of that most iconic of crooners, Frank Sinatra. Morrissey is the strangest of breeds, a crooner who has existed in alternative music.

Morrissey claims that he was the first to sing about the lives of real people. If you listen to the lyrics from songs such as William, It Was Really Nothing or Panic, you will find the reason why he is tatooed on to the arms and backs of so many. His impact on the wannabe icons of today is arguably more prevalent than ever, Babyshambles, The Killers, and new band Black Kids have all taken a leaf out of the book of Moz. The less said about his new greatest hits album the better, but it’s in stores now.

Download; Panic, Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now, Last Night I dreamt That Someone Loved me.

Supermarket booze story

2008-07-26T08:28:00.000-07:00

Kingston councillors are to monitor the effects of Westminster Council’s plans to ban supermarkets from selling high strength beverages such as Special Brew and White Lightning.

More than 25 supermarkets, convenience stores and off licences in the area such as Londis, Tesco, Waitrose and Budgens are working with Westminster City Council to prevent the sale of high strength lager in their supermarkets.

Councillors hope the plan will curb problems associated with alcohol such as vandalism and violent behaviour.

Both Liz Green and Simon James, councillors for licensing in the Kingston area, said they would monitor the situation and its results but were sceptical.

Councillor Liz Green said: “I think we will have to look at how it works, different drinkers react in different ways and I think people forget that, problems occur for a number of reasons”

She added that Kingston Council scrutinised every application for a new off-licence in the area and was trying a number of options to stop drink related problems.

“We’ve tried to make sure that off-licenses in the area don’t sell one can. You have to buy packs of four, because one can cost something as cheap as 60p which means that it’s very easy for teenagers to afford” said Green.

Westminster Council’s scheme itself was based on a successful one in Marylebone where drinking problems were reduced by 35 per cent.

Councillor James said that he was interested in the scheme but wondered how successful it would be.

“I think it could prove to be good but it’s not a complete solution because you still have the big problems of people leaving night clubs and pubs, where you have a lot of drinking problems but it would be a positive step, there is no need for these high strength lagers”

Asda, which was not listed as one of the shops involved in the Westminster project, said it would be “banning the sale of alcohol between midnight and 6am in 24 hour stores and alcohol flavoured shooters would be removed from shelves.”

Mark Dixie Story

2008-07-26T08:27:00.002-07:00

A local women has spoken of her horror at discovering Sally Ann Bowman murderer, was former work colleague Mark Dixie.

Mary Roberts worked with Dixie (pictured) when he was a sous chef at the Refill coffee shop in George Street Croydon and described him as a typical lad.

“He was like all the lads around Croydon, that’s what freaks me out he would sit with us and have the typical kind of banter that you would expect of a local lad” said Mary.

Dixie, who was sentenced to life imprisonment for the brutal murder of Sally Ann Bowman in 2005 was labelled a sexual deviant after his conviction last week.

“The blood went from my face when I saw that he was the man involved, I was just in a complete daze” she said.

In recent press Dixie’s biography has come to light with suggestions that he was involved in murders in Australia and could have been the Claremont killer that killed 4 women during the late 90’s.

Mary says that Dixie would mention Australia but it was often to do with his relationship with a woman that he had been with.

“He would talk about her if he was in a bad mood, he would say things about how he missed her and he wished he was back out there but it all seemed like he was a bit down about it I didn’t think anything of it,” she said.

A Police investigation into Dixie’s involvement with the murders ceased a year ago but it is understood that Police are investigating similar crimes in Australia during that period.

Rescue Dawn Review

2008-07-26T08:27:00.001-07:00

German new wave director Werner Herzog takes some tentative steps into Hollywood with a typically leftfield foray in Rescue Dawn.

The story is about German born American fighter pilot, Dieter Dengler (Bale), who’s thrilled when he’s finally given the opportunity to fly his first bombing mission over Vietnam. Things go awry for our eccentric protagonist when he’s shot down over the Vietnamese jungle and quickly becomes a prisoner of the Vietcong. Stuck with inmates that would blend in well at a Frank Zappa convention, Dengler plots his escape eventually leading to a struggle against the environment that surrounds him.

As an initial attempt at a Hollywood film Rescue Dawn crashes in the green wilderness between art house and the main stream never truly finding its way out. The film is marred with Herzog’s genuine admiration for this true tale in which he documents for a second time. This is present in the script’s failings which often features bizarre dialogue clearly plucked verbatim from the accounts Dengler made to Herzog years ago.

Accounts of his life within the film feel stuffed in and unnatural and at times conversation between characters seem as if they were scripted by the former pilot himself. It makes for a hard acting job but Bale and his supporting cast are excellent as world weary lunatics confined to the bamboo prison bars and paranoid delusions.

A disappointing script, but compelling performances are typical of a film that is not sure of where it wants to go. For Herzog fans there is an unrequited desire to be confronted by the bizarre and engaging emphasis that is so characteristic of his films.

As for those who will approach the film on the grounds of Christian Bale as a POW fighting for his life, they will perhaps feel short changed by the lack of cut throat dialogue and fast paced action that Herzog believes is beneath him.

This is by far one of Herzog’s more accessible films, but for a man who has made over 50 films there is a nervous ambiguity about which direction it wants to take. But then perhaps that’s fitting for a film about a pilot lost in the jungle.

Sweded Feature

2008-07-26T08:24:00.000-07:00

A cardboard cut out of a helicopter ambles past a skyscraper on the horizon . The sound of its rotar blades are made by the vocal 'talents' of someone who perhaps has too much time on his hands.

The scene then cuts to a large white piece of paper scrawled in dodgy black handwriting it reads “IT WAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS IN LA” . What then follows is as a 'sweded' version of John Mctiernan's Die Hard.
Cardboard boxes become ventilation shafts, kids toys become machine guns and 30-something dinner party hosts are German terrorists and action heroes.Egg 2k's Youtube home movie is as much a homage to the 1988 blockbuster as it is to Michel Gondry's 'Be Kind Rewind' which was released earlier this month.

The film tells the tale of two video store workers Mike and Jerry who are forced to recreate a number of Hollywood films after a bizarre accident wipes all of their video tapes.

Gondry says the films concept came from “wanting to create a system where people can create their own home movies and enjoy making them and then sitting back and enjoy watching it.

There is already a system and not of Gondry's making, amongst the trailers, music videos and episodes of South Park, there are the stories of global citizens on Youtube as Time magazine noted when it named its person of the year in 2006. “who actually sits down after a long day at work and says, I'm not going to watch Lost tonight. I'm going to turn on my computer and make a movie starring my pet iguana? I'm going to mash up 50 Cent's vocals with Queen's instrumentals? I'm going to blog about my state of mind or the state of the nation or the steak-frites at the new bistro down the street? Who has that time and that energy and that passion? The answer is, you do.”

Youtube users like Egg2k have emulated Gondry's movie but people like him were creating their own stories beforehand. Life has imitated art and art of life. Empire features editor Dan Joplin says that it is the movie industry that has reacted to trends in modern culture and not the other way around.

“Cinema reacts to trends, it reacts to what is going on around it. We are in an age where people are telling their own stories and although it's always been kind of normal for the story to exist through the main character, apart from Blair Witch, they've never had a camera before”. Where Be Kind is a warm yarn that documents the process of film making more serious arguments are raised in George A Romero's Diary Of The Dead.

Romero who has often used Zombies to make a point his debut Night Of The Living Dead was a metaphor for the civil rights movement and consumerism was the subject of 1978's Dawn Of The Dead. Diary Of The Dead and Redacted make the point that current media is untrustworthy, news networks feed us propaganda and mistruths and only through the documentation of those 'real' people at the event can we hope to find the truth.

“We used to call them the three lies (the three networks) but now there's so many networks and different ways of getting to news, I don't know how many lies there are, I just think that people can document their own stories now and the truth can be aired to the world” said Romero in an interview a few months ago.

It only takes a few minutes on blogs, Youtube or any other user driven site to see that truth can be interpreted in many different ways. “Hollywood isn't threatened by Youtube, there's nothing for it to be concerned about, the production values of homemade documentaries and 'sweded' movies is pretty low , it’s just a new vehicle for their central protagonist that they can use” adds Dan.

So then where for the internet user and how will Hollywood react to it? Is interactivity an undeniable truth? Does this signal the beginning of a new age of cinema? Kingston lecturer Will Brooker seems to think not “You can look as far back as 1947's Lady in the lake to see where some film makers have taken their ideas, I suppose predicting what cinema is going to do is like predicting what is going to happen in society, ideas come from everywhere”

Five-Aside Story Kingston University

2008-07-26T08:23:00.000-07:00

Kingston University’s Five-aside league gets under way this week in a bid to improve wider participation in sporting activities.

Sports Development Manager Jo Heath set up the league last year with a small amount of success and response from students to this years’ league has been much better.

“We’ve had 18 teams sign up to the league this year which is really good, we’ve emailed people who do sport science and have been unsuccessful in trying out for the sports teams” she said.

A University five a-side league has been in the pipe line for a number of years as part of a drive to improve participation in sport, Jo added.

“We want everyone to have the opportunity to compete. It’s about improving participation amongst students , so that it’s not only those who play for sports teams that are taking part in activities”

The Student Services and Administration are funding the league by themselves and the referees for the games are unpaid sports coaches.

“We have funded it by ourselves. It has been difficult but it looks like we’ve organised a really good league that students will enjoy.”

Without much involvement from the university and without the funding that the Student Union enjoys, Jo is looking forward to the fruits of her labour in May.

“Last year each team received a trophy but were thinking that we might have a big trophy for the winners, with a plaque and their names on it”

League matches will take place on a Tuesday night at Tolworth Court and there is a one off £20 entrance fee. Although the league is now closed, if you form a team you may be able to replace one that has dropped out.

Socatots Feature

2008-07-26T08:22:00.000-07:00

At pre-school age they are performing football tricks named after great Brazilian strikers, they are kicking the ball with both feet and having a thoroughly good time. Meet Surbiton’s Socatots.

Decked out in the colours of the Brazilian national team they, the Socatots are part of a revolutionary approach in coaching young children.

The Socatots programme is one devised by visionary coaching tycoon Simon Clifford and it is based on the notion that you can teach children from a very early age about the basics of playing football. If Tiger Woods was holding a golf club at two, he figures, then the David Beckhams of the future will be kicking a ball at 18 months.

Surbiton-based coach Joe Khorshid says that despite the hope that classes will produce great technical players of the future; the importance of having fun is what is emphasised most in sessions “It’s not about blowing whistles in people’s faces, it’s about having fun with the ball and playing games.”

The programme has been praised by several former Brazillian footballers including Socrates and Carlos Alberto and is also revered for its aiding of intellectual development.

“It’s not just about making them potentially good footballers, it’s very good for their intellectual development. They come here in the first week and can barely say their name and by the sixth week they can say what their favourite colour is and who their favourite superhero is. ”

Joe talks matter-of-factly about simple tricks that the children can perform and claims that they can all do a trick with the ball called the ‘Romario’.

“The ‘Romario’ is a pretty simple trick. It’s just touching the ball with the outside of your foot but they can all do it and the kids love having the attention from their parents and showing off what they can do.”

Joe is looking to recruit socatots coaches for the Kingston area, they must have a car and be able to work both weekdays and weekends.

A full crb will be undertaken and offer full training is offered. Please contact Joe on 07866716664 for more details email kingston@socatots.com.

Corinthians Feature - The River Online

2008-07-26T08:21:00.000-07:00

They are a benchmark for fair play in football, the white shirts of Real Madrid are dedicated to them and one of Brazil’s top club sides share their name.Not bad for a Tolworth based side in the Isthmian League Division One South.

Founded more than 125 years ago, Corinthians Casuals is one of the oldest amateur football clubs in the world, a status which both defines and hampers the club. “Some people use us; they literally can’t get a game anywhere else and they come here for about a month before they go to another club.” says club spokesman Rob Cavali.

Going professional or semi professional is not an option for a club whose philosophy lies in playing amateur football at the very highest level. “The manager has the hardest job in football, anyone who is a decent player goes as we can’t tie them to any contract”

Players such as former QPR striker Leroy Griffiths and Farnbrough Town’s Jay Haskell have played for the club in recent years but the moral based refusal to pay them has meant good players always find pastures new.

“They (players) played for us for a few months and that was absolutely fine. We don’t mind being a safety net for players if we can get a little bit of gratitude” said Cavalli.

Cavalli who has a written a book about the club called Play up Corinth talked about a team that fights with the brand of permanent amateur status.

Despite its amateur status, its history is unrivalled and the club has close links to its Brazillian namesake. Rob is moving to Brazil with his wife to become a co-representative of the club to continue the good relations the club have“ We have a really strong relationship with Corinthians, we’ve had the Brazillian club president wear our shirts and I’m looking forward to moving out there with my wife”

However the club’s relationship with Real Madrid which plays in Corinthian white is not as close as one might imagine.

“We wrote them a letter a few years ago to tell them about our shared history but I don’t think they understood because it was in English” he added.

The club is now in a position where it might be relegated from the league but despite the trials and tribulations that may come ITS way this world famous club will be remaining amateur and a proud part of the history books.
Corinthians are playing AFC Wimbledon at Wembley on April the 13th to celebrate 125 years of Corinthians football and 20 years since Wimbledon won the FA Cup in 1988. Tickets for the game are £20 for Adults and £12 for Juniors. www.corinthian-casuals.com/news.php