This inexorable summer

It's been over 6 months! Where have we all been?

I should be securing the final pieces - the expensive, and delicate - into the final box.  Imminently leaving SW19 as I am.  Instead you caught me here.  Focussing on doing what I shouldn't be, but these won't pack themselves.  And when the men arrive they won't tolerate ill preparedness.

The portent of their reactions doesn't rouse me.  A sound in the hallway and my neck pulls my head and eyes to present.  Nothing further.  I continue waiting.

Black Swan - an entertaining silly movie

I watched Black Swan this week, Darren Aronofsky's film for the ladies.  There's been a few comments on Facebook about it, not all of them very positive, and it got me thinking.

I thought it was a really good date movie and thoroughly enjoyed it.  Sexual suggestion (lusty thoughts), scary overbearing parent (roll eyes), fantasy and mild terror (grab hands).  The nuance and presentation of the club scene was exactly right and the photography of the dancing footwork mesmerising.

The story, a fusion of rags to riches success (is that a pre-req for dancing?) with a cautionary tale about the price of getting what you want, was silly - genuine entertainment.  Less about ballet than the rise and fall of human beings.  

Which brings me to my conclusion.  This wasn't a pretentious art house film about the ballet.  It didn't take itself seriously.  The film wasn't at all what I expected having read the entry in the London BFI festival program last year, nor the blurb the Curzon had on the web.  I wonder whether that, more than anything else, will lead certain people to dismiss it.  This film won't make you smarter or more smug, but it will probably make you laugh.

Writing Meme - Saturday Centus

The party was in full swing when the room hushed and almost everybody looked around - the clink on glass signalled the start of a speech.  Or did it?  I looked down at the white rug, my face burning.  The falling goblet of wine had broken against the edge of the glass table.  And the red stain at my feet?  It was growing bigger by the minute...

Welcome to a short and sweet Saturday Centus, Jenny Matlock's writing meme that challenges you to thing big and write little!  Head over to Jenny's blog to read the entries and submit yours.  There's such a selection, some with much fuller stories than I felt like today  - try Karen's The Situation is Worse Than You Think, or Donna's Well Done.  Read as many as you can!

Instead I went with the mounting and relentless mortification, a la Bridget Jones, of something eminently forgettable to the masses that has the capacity to linger with the individual...  Not speaking from personal experience here at all!  Noo... Wasn't the first time I'd been invited round or a new rug or anything, noooo!!

Back in the U.U.U.K.

Just back from the USA road trip, and will shortly be compiling pictures and thoughts into some kind of content.  In the meantime - to make productive use of the 04:30 GMT jet lag that pits the robotic octopus of my leaden-limbed body against the malfunctioning sleep centre and French toast brunch craving brain - I'm watching movies and here's an interim post.

Broken Flowers movie review

Journeys, like gap years and career breaks, can generally be viewed two ways - and this movie is decisive in just the same fashion.  

A retired successful businessman resides in comfort and elegance in neighbourly suburbia, and is left by his younger, attractive girlfriend for failing to commit.  A pattern we come to see has repeated itself throughout his life, and which leaves him nonplussed.

An intervention is staged by way of his good friend next door and wannabe private eye, when an unsolicted and unsigned note is dropped through the letterbox the same day.

Whether you see an indulgent piece of artistic piffle where nothing happens, or a man who might be changed by revisiting his past, probably depends on what kind of movies you like.  Does experiencing a connection of which he was previously indifferent to or unaware of make a better man?  Or is it just an inevitable delay to carrying on with living life?

There are great characters - the detective neighbour, the trashy ex- and her jailbait daughter, the astute cat - and the acting is top draw across the board, but this is mostly about the protagonist and his demons.  It delivers on that premise, but you could look and see a wolf in buddy-movie clothing and come away disappointed.

If you happen to be the indulgent artistic type, maybe there's a comment on what it means to get what you want in life easily, and the nature of success if you are never left wanting.  I really enjoyed this gentle film, and it has a great score too - check out The Greenhornes.  

Movie trailer and details here.

Image published to web by StarDustTrailers.com

Fish Fight

I had the Fish Fight campaign flagged to me today.  Comprising Zac Goldsmith's Early Day Motion, and Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall's petition.

I wrote to my MP requesting she sign the EDM.  In brief, this is a request for a debate about the problems with mechanisms of existing fishing quotas.  

Current policy means that any netted fish that cannot be legally landed and sold are thrown back to sea.  As many as 50%.  Dead or dying.

I'm trying to work out if the quota concept as a means of sustaining fish stocks is actually a true catch-22.  

But ignoring that digression, dead and dying fish do not sustain a population and cannot support conservation.  This is an issue with a global relevance, even if you don't yet feel it's reach.  

I'd urge you to look briefly or in depth at www.fishfight.net and see if this is an issue that you feel matters enough to write about.

Non MX [multiplex] Short Film Night

Went along to this last night, and watched a selection of very polished short-to-medium films.  Inspired some conversation and ideas, but need to find something at a level a little more rough around the edges that we may realistically approach with our first offering!

The most striking thing was the size of the crews.  One production had 3 ADs... At the moment we don't technically own a camera.  Or a car.  But who needs a car?  And THE CAMERA is back on an ebay listing, and hopefully come Saturday morning I will own it.  No last minute carpet-wrenching from beneath my feet this time...

The ideas are there though.  A glass of wine yesterday easily crystalised the concept for Ant Is Great, although the man himself was not keen to take a starring role.  And a time frame (end of SUMMER!) for completion.  Just in time to enter the London 48 Hour Film Project in October.

This video below is a trailer for my favourite film yesterday, as it told a potent story with compassion and dark-humour, inverting the typical roles and impressions people have following parental break-up.  And I spotted the 'book ends' (which pleased me) and which executed very effectively.  Even if I did maybe make that term up...  Not claiming credit for it like, just general ignorance.

The Little Boy and the Beast from mic hic on Vimeo.

Writing Meme - Saturday Centus

Curated and presided over by Jenny Matlock (with unyeilding parsimony this new year!), here's a weekly writing prompt that encourages a response in any written medium.  Yup, it's Saturday Centus!

This week you have 25 words to responde to the prompt, the lottery ticket, and as this has to be mentioned you get 28 words to tell your microfiction.  

The lottery ticket glowed, it's halo reflecting the television screen.  Balls tumbling.  Lunatic presenter muted. 

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.  John blinked, murmured.

"Nothing this week, love".

Films This Week

Have embraced movie watching whole-heartedly since having free evenings restored, and devoured 3 this week.
Little Fockers, The Next Three Days, and via BBC iPlayer The Men Who Stare At Goats.

Little Fockers suffered being the tertiary offering, with Andi Garcia being a very flat character introduced as a necessary story pusher.  She had a hot bod though, so certain boxes were ticked if you're into that kind of thing.  By the twins' birthday party climax I was happy to skim over the contrivances and cringey nature of much of the story, due to the epic fight scene.  In the ball pit.  Laugh aloud pastiche of the classic big fish movie (not Moby Dick), left me on a jolly high.  Not worth an expensive movie ticket, but on cheap Monday, or colourful Wednesday, why not.

The Next Three Days had a bit of everything that Little Fockers was missing.  Interesting minor characters, enough believable behaviour to sustain the thrills, and was shot with attention to details that I appreciated.  Being a sucker for an emotional tug, it got me a couple of times with the presentation of a family in crisis and feeling abandoned.  I'm not the biggest Russell Crowe fan but no concern was needed despite it being a vehicle for his game, as it was a very good game indeed.  The ending was a little disappointing - not how it turned out but the way it was done.  But perhaps there's certain audiences whose acceptance of outcomes is tempered in the face of uncertainty surrounding a character's entitlement to that outcome.

The Men Who Stare At Goats made me think about voiceovers, and the role of v.o., foley, and music in telling a story.  A feelgood, post-hen do 90 minutes with a cast who looked like they enjoyed themselves.  Perhaps revising our concept of combat and engagement would make for a better world.  What I learned was that LSD might make you want to shoot yourself, goats are less cute than dogs, and there is much potential in a French hoax.  And there will always be someone who wants to be on top.

2011: The year of the read

How time flies.  No posts since November; nothing about the Southfields Theatre Group pantomime (run concluded last night), no posts about Christmas (least said the better), nor new year (a perfect evening - very unusual).

And so to 2011, to begin to climb the slippery slope that is actively deciding what I'm going to do for the next couple of years.  Rather, readying myself to face challenges and criticisms and dead ends with vim, vigour, wit and imagination - and that's just my father!

I'll start with the distance learning course - The Writers Bureau have sent a card offering £120 off their fees, making a course that could last a year only £30 than a 12 week class based.  I'll need the people contact of course, but between London Writers, twitter, NonMX, and Kid In The Front Row there'll be no end of available opinions and debates to absorb and be inspired by.

And to finish I'll go full circle back to my title.  Having repeatedly monikered each passing annum from 2006, The Year of Louise, we're trying a new tack this year. Lots. More. Books.  Everything else will fall in place around that solitary peace and contemplation, and I'll try to learn from brief, thematic reviews how to recognise structure and arcs, and emotional impact to make my writing pop.  Onwards...

Happy New Year everyone.