Lies, damned lies and Obi Wan Kenobi

It is pleasant, is it not, to live in a world where no-one is to blame for anything? No? You don't think so? Liar. It's brilliant. Literally nothing is anyone's fault. I can go outside, now, waving knives in the faces of children and spaniels while shouting 'Die, children and spaniels, die!' and be confident in the total lack of consequences.

I can see you have that suspicious look that you sometimes get when I say very wise things. Well, I'm definitely right, and if you want proof, look at the years gone by and see the constantly shifting fog of evasions and half-truths that have taken the place of accountability in the 21st Century.

It seems that now it's quite possible for a man to get shot several times in the head, by the police, for no reason - and for nobody to be really responsible. Or for the police - different police I assume, unless there's something seriously weird going on - to cause the death of a man innocently passing a protest march, and for the general consensus to be that it was just, you know, unfortunate.

Higher up the ladder (or lower, depending on your point of view), we have a government who seem to have learned all their debating tactics from Jamie Smith, my friend from school when we were eleven. When blamed of anything, Jamie would instinctively point at someone else and say "Look what he's doing!", as if my scratching a picture of a penis into the desk excused his experiments with fire and exercise books. Whenever our glorious leaders are taken to task on any of the myriad horrors they are inflicting upon society, they seem overcome by a kind of blame-shifting tourettes. "Look what Labour did! They spent all our money! They stole it! And when we're cutting council's budgets, it's not us - it's voodoo witch doctors in Brussells, making us do it with magic dolls!"

It's a rather pathetic line of defence, but the good news is, I've worked out what is responsible. The leaders of our society all came of age in the 1970s, and I think their minds have surely been corrupted by the most influential film of the time. It all started a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. That's right - I'm blaming bearded Star Wars Jedi, Ben "Obi-Wan" Kenobi.

Watching through the Star Wars films in story order - that is, starting with The Phantom Bloody Menace and going through to Return of the Jedi - a very strong sense of doubt settles in over the reliability of Luke's wise and revered mentor. This guy -  who is supposed to stand for good, morality, truth and righteousness  - is not, in fact, a very good role model. Why, for example, when Luke asks about the death of his father, does Obi Wan say "A young Jedi by the name of Darth Vader murdered him"? And not "Anakin? Oh yes, I knew him. Whiny little tosser. I had to chop his legs off and throw him in a lake of fire. Couldn't stop laughing for weeks!"

Such is Ben's level of denial that later, when Luke quite rightly takes him up on this barefaced lie, Ben gets all "Er..." about it. Apparently what he said was true 'from a certain point of view.' Well, that's great. And so a generation learns to avoid the blame for anything they ever do, ever. "Hey guys, whatever crimes we commit, I suggest we blame them on Darth Vader and, if pressed, say we were just being metaphorical!"

Q:   "Who drank all my beer?"

A:  "A young Jedi called Darth Vader did."



Q:  "Whose pornography is this?"

A:  "I think you'll find that belongs to a young Jedi called Darth Vader."



Q:  "Who pulled this disabled protester out of his wheelchair and dragged him across the street?"

A:  "Ah, that would have been a young Jedi called Darth Vader. I saw him do it."


And so on. We're screwed. At least until a generation come along who were raised on films where the heroes take responsibility for the consequences of their actions. Such as...   hmm. Can't think of any. But there must be some. We must find them, and show them to Cameron's kids. Not only will this definitely heal society, but it will also prove that media theory is a valid and world changing subject, and all teachers of it should be venerated and given a special hat.

Did I mention that I started drinking the Bailey's?

You rebel scum!

It's been quite a week for rebellion, and I hope you don't mind me taking a moment to share some thoughts. Actually, I hope you do mind. Because then I can do it anyway, and watch your mind explode due to my disobedience. Because I'm being rebellious, I may even swear. Take that, The Man.

Last Thursday was the day MPs voted on whether to raise tuition fees to astronomical levels and, of course, the day loads of people told the MPs to go fuck themselves with a huge angry carrot with spikes coming out of it. Hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands - basically lots - of people turned London into a pulsating mass of anger, noise and dissent, filling camera lenses with the sight of fire and dancing and shouting and the breaking of stuff. Many, many commentators have written about the consequences of Thursday's vote more eloquently that I can, and with greater understanding. Nevertheless, it is worth repeating, often and loudly, that in this vote we are witness to an act of destruction that is at best short sighted, and at worst downright villainous.

This decision, and many related ones that are less documented but equally pernicious, is what happens when you let millionaires dictate what is normal and what is good. You will, perhaps, have noticed a lot of the rhetoric coming from ConDem HQ, bleating about what might be considered reasonable and affordable and fair. Words which all come with a built in assumption of a middle ground, as if we all share the same experience of 21st century capitalism. £30 a week might not be a big difference to you, George Osborne, with your estimated personal wealth of £4,000,000, but to some of my students it is the difference between being able to study and having to work for minimum wage. Similarly, £27,000 of debt might well be something you can pay off in no time if you are David Cameron, who recently knocked his mortgage down by £75,000 , but it is a daunting prospect to those potential students without your family background, contacts and - hey- university education.

The proposals being smashed through by this unelected government are amongst the most destructive things a government has done since Blair and co thought the best way to stop people blowing up innocent civilians was to blow up some of their own, only in Iraq. The very fact that there has been such a popular uprising against the education cuts would suggest that a lot of people in this democracy consider them harmful, narrow minded and arrogant. In other words, an attack on the people of this country by those who are meant to listen to what we want.

So, naturally, the newspapers the next day were full of this tale of a violent attack by one class on another; this shameful expression of power by a horde of bullies who would rather shout than listen. Except, of course, they had two to choose from. On one hand an entire generation of people had the chance to better themselves snatched away in favour of a self satisfied elite who do what they like with no sign of accountability. On the other, a couple who have never really paid for anything in their lives get some paint on them for a bit. Tough call. Tel you what, let's go for the one with the most exciting picture.

If I was not observing all this on the news and was instead watching it as part of an episode of '24' it would all be devastatingly clear what was going on. An illiberal government and the corporations to which it is inextricably linked seek to trivialise the battle between undemocratic repression and spontaneous civil rebellion by shouting 'Oh no, Prince Charles is sad!' Forget the revolution - some people dared to shout at royalty.

Don't get me wrong. I quite like Charles, and would not rejoice in his public beheading anywhere near as much as I'd laugh at Nick Clegg getting an olive stone jammed in his windpipe while trying to defend his latest betrayal. But the fact that our media pounce on something so moderate (and, conspiracy freaks, so suspiciously avoidable) at the expense of dealing with more pertinent issues is really sad, and says a lot about what really matters once money comes into play.

It is interesting, to me, that the courses most likely to suffer from these cuts are those involved in the arts, the media and various forms of expressive thinking. Worthless to industry, as we are told? Hardly. More likely it is deemed dangerous to arm a generation with the intellectual and aesthetic tools to take apart these lies and construct a counter attack.

Let's not be fooled by emotive langauge and evocative imagery. The actions of this government are where the real violence lies. Do. Not. Stand. For. It.

Review of the year: Very Good

 
It is officially Christmas. Once the 1st of December arrives it is, as far as I'm concerned, time to fill the house with sparkly lights, pour a huge glass of Baileys and break out the Billy Idol Christmas album ("Hilarious": imockery.com). This year it even snowed like a mental thing, so I am feeling well and truly festive.

And so we trudge through the snow towards the shining glory that is Rob's list-of-things 2010. We are nearly at the top, where the most wonderful experiences drift about in ethereal snowstorms of brilliance. But before that, let's look at some of the things that happened this year that were very, very good.

Things that were very, very good.


Kick Ass

Now then, Iron Man, take a look at this. A fun, fresh take on the superhero genre, juggling conventions as if they were bewildered kittens. If you missed the film, or know little about it except that a little girl says a bad word, here's what happens: A young geeky boy dons a costume and fights evil-doers in contemporary America. He learns many lessons about responsibility. And a young girl says a bad word.

"Hang on!" you cry, spitting toast everywhere (you were eating toast), "That sounds quite a lot like Spiderman.  How is that new? Apart from the bit about the girl?" Well, toast-face, this guy doesn't have any special powers bestowed upon him from radioactive spiders or anything; he's just a normal guy trying to make a difference, and getting beat up a lot. He soon becomes entwined in a maelstrom of freakish events and characters, all massively enjoyable.

I liked this film a lot. Here are some reasons:

1. Although based on a comic strip, it is not a slave to it. Instead it takes the basic premise and bangs it into a shape more suitable for two hours at the cinema. Unlike some films, Red, for example, it definitely does not do this to secure a lower rating and thus more money. It does it because it knows that comic books and films are very different. Other adaptations take note.

2. None of the major studios wanted to finance it, so Matthew Vaughn got it privately finaced at a dinner party, and made it anyway. Then, of course, all the studios came scampering back, going 'Ooh - sorry, we've just realised it looks rather good...' I love it when this happens. I like to fantasise that all these corporate pillocks, whenever they get things like this wrong, sit down afterwards and say 'Boy, are we bad at spotting which ideas are good and worthy of our support! Let's stop basing our decisions on our own stupid, blinkered idea of what consitutes interesting, innovative art and listen instead to creative people with a track record of bringing fascinating ideas to the screen. And let's bring Caprica and Firefly back while we're at it.'

But they never do.

3. A young girl swears a lot and slices people to pieces. Guess which one of these antagonised the moral guardians of our society most? That's right - if Hit Girl had had the good manners to eviscerate her opponents while calling them 'melon-farmers' or 'nasty bad men', all would have been just fine. I particularly enjoyed Christopher Tookey's piece in the Mail, where his condemnation of Hit Girl as 'obviously meant to be sexy' led a lot of people to look at him and go "Errr... that  might just be you mate..."

Cemetery Junction

Ricky Gervais in subtle, restrained movie shocker. This film touches on a lot of the Brit-film narrative beats that we've all been familiar with since Robert Carlisle danced to Hot Stuff at Jobseekers, but does so delicately, and with its emphasis on the characters. Time and place are evoked with the right mixture of nostalgia and real understanding, while the plights of the main characters really feel like they matter. This is a story of growing up in a small town, trapped by expectation, tradition and you own lack of self belief. And, somehow, it's also really funny.

Top marks go to Emily Watson, who plays her character's heartbreak beautifully, and to Gervais, who stays out of the way for the most part, allowing his brilliant script to speak for him and letting the excellent ensemble cast do their thing.

The Social Network

I liked this a lot. A lot a lot. It's masterfully written, by  Aaron 'I wrote the bloody West Wing' Sorkin, features some great performances from the leads (especially Andrew Garfield) and has an interestingly weird soundtrack. It also marks the return to form of director David Fincher, after the extended CGI masturbation party that was Benjamin Arsing Button. If The Social Network and Benjamin Button had a fight, this film wouldn't even throw a punch. It would just look into the mid distance, a half-smile/half frown on its face, say something enigmatic and clever, and then walk away, leaving Button jumping up and down shouting 'Who da man?' to an empty room.

This is England

I've written about this series and its brilliance here, so I won't go on about it again. Suffice to say, it was brilliant television, and it firmly deserves its place in the 'very, very good' part of my mind.

The Trip

Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon wander around the North of England eating lovely meals and doing impressions to each other. Doesn't necessarily sound like ground breaking television, but this six part TV series, directed by prolific film maker Michael Winterbottom, has totally won my heart.

I have spent much of this year slowly falling in love with Rob Brydon. I've always liked him, but his turn as Uncle Bryn in Gavin and Stacey made me laugh until I hurt my leg, and I've been addicted to his Welsh ways ever since. I've enjoyed Steve Coogan in a variety of things, from Alan Partridge (nach) to his peculiar self deprecating turns in films like Coffee and Cigarettes, 24 Hours Party People and A Cock and Bull Story. This last film, also directed by Winterbottom, is closest in spirit to The Trip, as both Coogan and Brydon adopt variations of their own characters and have fun with the idea of fame and perceptions of the self.

The series is really funny, but also, in places, very sad. Coogan is eaten up by his own dissatisfaction with the ageing process, and the weight around his neck that is the early - and never equalled - success of Alan Partridge. The six episodes chart a comic path, but also provide a meditation on getting older, and trying to understand what it means to be happy. I loved it.

That's it for very, very good things. See you soon for things that were, without doubt, absolutely amazing and great and fab. Don't slip on the ice. x

Behold the face of doom

Remember I was doing a beardy grow thing, and I was all "I'm so ace" about it? Well, I've put the video I made on Youtube. This represents my first successful attempt at putting a video on Youtube - something most biscuits are able to do - so I'm very proud of myself.

In an ideal world, I will also have embedded the video below. Enjoy.

Intermission: Sometimes all you want is a hug

Half way through my four-part dissection of the year's highlights and lowlights, and I've realised I need a fifth category. Sorry for those of you who have already devised a complicated wall chart based on my last couple of posts. I am hereby inserting a new category between my last post, 'meh', and my next one, 'quite good' and I have decided to call it 'reasonably entertaining'.

Things that are reasonably entertaining include films which just sort of passed the time and were fun to watch, but which didn't really inspire me with any lasting joy. They are the digestives of film: perfectly acceptable, and once in a while they might be exactly what you're in the mood for, but not what you'd give to Derren Brown if he came round to your house to help you hypnotise some troublesome ants into not stealing your bloody toast.

Films that were Reasonably Entertaining in 2010

Salt

Angelina Jolie is an agent! But then someone says she's a double agent! And then! Whoah! Maybe she is and maybe she isn't! There is lots of running, many things explode and a lot of people get shot and fall over looking sad. It's an effective post-Bourne thriller with a strangely retro Cold War feel and Jolie makes a good action hero - but we knew that. Once all the twisty turniness is done it's like having watched a series of 24 at several times normal speed and you are left feeling quite happy, until you notice something shiny and forget all about it.

The Town

Ben Affleck's directorial follow up to the brilliant Gone Baby Gone is nearly in the 'very good' category. It is an engaging tale, well told and with some properly thrilling set pieces. The central conceit - bank robber falls in love with hostage who could identify him and his gang - is simple and effective, and played well by the leads. I do like Ben Affleck, and I'm glad he's turning into such an interesting director.

The only real issue is that it feels a lot like Michael Mann's Heat. The basic plot, following the ethical and procedural similarities of opposing groups of cops and robbers, is very similar and there are a number of repeated dramatic beats. Which made me keep coming back to Jeremy's thoughts in Peep Show, when watching a play: 'This is as long as Heat. I could be watching Heat. I'm going to pretend I'm watching Heat!'

The A-Team

Now, I know that by doing this I am risking incurring the wrath of The Expendables, which may well come charging in from the last blog-post, shrieking in rage. "Why do you love her but not me?" it will scream, firing machine guns indiscriminately into the air. "She's an equally stupid throwback to the eighties with no real sense of characterisation or plot!" (Throws hand grenade through a window). "You're a hypocrite and she's a slag and why does no-one ever love the real me?" (Collapses in tears on stairs, eye make-up everywhere).

Well, quite. The A-Team isn't really much smarter than The Expendables, and doesn't have a particularly strong sense of what it is, beyond a nostalgic attempt at launching a franchise. But it's a funnier script, has better actors and, yes, draws heavily from the well of love that lies deep in the hearts of an entire generation. I'd like to see a sequel, please.

The Karate Kid

Another film which almost nudges its way into the higher categories. A surprisingly fresh and fun remake which does enough new things to make it a worthwhile exercise while more or less keeping the ethos of the original. Jaden Smith is a good actor already, and very likeable, and will probably be as big a star as his dad at some point. Jackie Chan is ace.

Red

What's this? A film about an older generation of movie stars geting back into their action groove? Surely not! Like the A-Team, this is a lot of fun and just spending time with the characters is reward enough. The plot is a little more coherent, though only just, and there are some fantastic images - not least being a suited John Malkovich handling the ammunition butler-style, while Helen Mirren operates the biggest machine gun you've ever seen. In a big dress.

Cyrus

Clever, funny comedy in which John C Reilly fancies Marissa Tomei, and tangles with her son Cyrus -  Jonah Hill - over the latter's oedipal tendencies. Small scale, well played and very funny.

Get Him to the Greek

Jonah Hill again, this time trying to stop rock god Aldous Snow (Russell Brand, channeling himself) from smoking/having sex with  everything he meets. Sporadically funny, though uneven, and entirely reliant upon Brand's personality for its effect.

I think that's everything. There's quite possibly other films I've forgotten, but on the whole these are films that, should you come across them on the TV, you should consider showing a bit of love.