Rob's Review of the Year Part 2. "Meh"

Last week I pontificated on the year gone by and shared with you, beloved, gorgeous, sexy reader, some of the things that, in 2010, had failed to please my all consuming, ever demanding self.

We move on, tonight, to the second of my four 'reviews of the year' - a consideration of  those things which, though not utterly rubbish, were a bit of a let down and left me feeling vaguely flat. I do not condemn them to a fiery pit of eternal doom, but nor do I embrace them lovingly to my tender breast, kissing them on the head and telling them that I truly, honestly love them. I suppose I just kind of turn away from them, pretending I have to answer an important text and that I'll be 'back in a minute'.

Anyway. Here are my votes for 'meh' things of 2010. If you see them coming, pretend to be out.

Things that made me go "Meh."

1. Scott Pilgrim Versus the World

Ask me what I think of Shaun of the Dead. Go on. Ask. I LOVE IT YOU FOOL. Can't believe you needed to ask. Now ask me how excited I was about the prospect of Edgar Wright directing Scott Pilgrim. Go on. No, really, I promise not to shout this time. I WAS VERY EXCITED.  It was Edgar Wright for goodness sake! And the trailer was really funny and the visual style was all 'Whoo!'

And then the film came out, and we all scampered to see it, like tiny children running towards a toyshop or away from a pervert. And then I sat there in the cinema for two hours, going... "Huh." Waves of explosive sound and kinetic vision washed over me, bathing me in all the colours the universe has to offer, and I simply sat, utterly unmoved.

It's possible that I'm too old or something. The people I was with, good friends whose judgement I trust and whose tastes I generally share, bounced around giggling the entire time like weebles on heroin.* Afterwards many of them declared it ten kinds of brilliant. And I was sad, because I just didn't plug into it in the same way.

If I had to say why I didn't get it, I'd say the whole film felt like it was trying too hard, and it didn't seem to establish a level of 'reality' that made me care about the characters. There were plenty of funny bits and the editing was super clever, but it was, as Shakespeare would have said, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing, and not as good as Spaced.

*I know, I know. Heroin probably doesn't make you giggle and I probably should have said poppers or something. But I conducted a wide range of rigorous scientific tests and came to the conclusion that 'weebles on heroin' was by far the most amusing of all the phrases on offer.


2. Crowded House's album Intriguer

Like most bands, Crowded House split up the moment I started to like them. I'm not sure why I have this effect on bands, but it does seem to happen too often for it to be a mere co-incidence, so I will have to assume I am some kind of universal nexus of incedible significance, whose life is more important than everyone else's. I should probably have some kind of special crown made so everyone knows to worship me.

Anyway, having split up for a bit, Crowded House decided to do what lots of bands do next, which was to get back together again. Normally this is a terrible idea, and results in albums that sound exhausted and lost, cheapening the legacy that made the band beloved in the first place. Not so for Time on Earth, CH's brilliant 2007 comeback, which was better than it had any right to be and is one of my favourite albums ever.

2010's Intriguer sounds more like the album I expected back in 07. It's not awful. It isn't anything much - it just drifts along for a bit and then stops. There are some nice melodies, clearly - I'm not sure Neil Finn can help writing lovely tunes - but despite playing it many, many times, it failed to get its hooks in. A shame.

3.  The Expendables

I'll be honest and say I did quite enjoy this when I watched it, but I have no real desire to ever see it again. It was like a drunken old man singing in a bar at Christmas - quite amusing for a while, but before too long it becomes tedious and you get worried he might start hurling glasses at your head. The plot was pointless and often contradictory: the whole situation the Expendables are sent to defuse would have sorted itself out much better if they'd just not gone in the first place. As I recall, they deal with corrupt CIA intervention in a Central American state by shooting everyone they meet until there's no-one left to be unhappy.

4. The revamped Castle Pub.

I like pubs. I like open fires, the smell of beer and the sight of dozens of bottles of wine waiting to be plucked down and guggled into a glass. I like comfy seats and people bringing me things to eat, and conversation with friends and the sense that time has drifted off to play with a kitten and won't be back for ages.

I liked the Castle, on Barnsley Road, a lot. It was quietish, sold a reasonable selection of wines and had food that I praised with such enthusiasm that I suspect the waitresses thought I was being sarcastic. It didn't have the hallmark of the truly great pub - a big sleepy dog lying in front of an open fire - but it was a home from home for a while; a big living room where I could happily spend my days, and often did.

This Summer, someone looked at my lovely Castle and decided it wasn't posh enough. They closed it for a month (a bloody month) and refurbished it so it now resembles a sort of stone temple. Don't get me wrong - it's very pretty, and there's all sorts of nice design features and the staff are still lovely. But I don't quite feel like I fit there any more. It's gone a bit dining-out-y. The prices have straightened themselves out and stretched a little higher, so now you can't really just pop in for tea, you have to consult Microsoft Excel first to check it won't compromise your credit rating.

Like I say, it's very nice there. It's just not... quite... me.

Me.

So there we go. Things that are 'meh' are a bit harder to think of. By definition, they drift out of the mind. My greatest fear is that I'll stop noticing that things are mediocre and accept them as good enough. Like that time I listened to 'No Line on the Horizon' and decided that some of the songs were OK after a few listens. No! They weren't! It was just that I'd got used to the banality of the whole album, and my standards had slipped. A few seconds of Nick Cave's 'Dig Lazarus! Dig!' put paid to that.

See you soon. for better and more enjoyable things.