Intermission VII

Yes, I’m watching Stargames AKA Star Games for the 100th time.

It’s an enjoyably bad movie that’s most notable for an admirably earnest performance by Sir Tony Curtis and the strange onscreen romantic chemistry between its two young leads, who are brothers in real life.

Awkward.

Oh and, of course, one cannot fail to mention the above embarrassing moment, which truly has to be seen to be believed.

Anyway, I’m going through a prolonged period of mental distress at the moment, characterised by severe paranoia and anxiety. I’m trying to knock self-medicating with booze on the head, as I reached a crisis point with that behaviour last week.

It genuinely felt as though I was losing my mind for good.

I’m trying to get out more and seeking support from a local charity, so fingers crossed I’ll be getting stronger from now on. I won’t beat myself up too much if I fail, as failure seems to be my stock in trade. But, well, one has to try, am I right?

Right.

I’m trying to get back into my other hobbies, such as guitar playing and audiobook reading, but I’m generally taking life one minute at a time. I just have to, what with not having anything tangible on the horizon to reach out for.

Hopefully, I’ll start posting here more, especially with a clear head, but things all depend on what I can cope with.

The human brain is a funny old thing.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Brian!

Jim on Food: Garlic Mushroom Open-Sandwich

Ingredients (in order of appearance):

Olive Oil

Prosciutto

Red Chillies

Sliced Mushrooms

Salt

Powdered Spices: Black Pepper

Herbs: Thyme

Garlic Puree

Sliced Bread

Result: Positive

Hardly a devastating culinary discovery, although no less enjoyable for it, this has become something of a signature dish for me. It’s also a very pleasant little way to fill one’s tummy at lunch. Or evening, if you’ve already had your larger meal around midday. Or you can have it in the middle of the night, should you find yourself unable to sleep and desperately need to do some fridge clearing. Or… oh you get the idea!

I first stumbled upon the dish whilst in the midst of watching the marvellous Russian art film “Following the Sun”, to give it its English title, therefore I now associate the two experiences. Does that count as a “sense memory” sort of thing? Yes or no, I am happy for it to be so.

Oh dear, I appear to be rhyming again!

My version involves me tearing apart a couple of strips of prosciutto, then giving them a quick fry in a saucepan. You heard me right, a saucepan! I then throw in a few sliced chillies, being sure to get the big ones, which are usually mild. I’ve not been terribly well this year, so have found my having to ease off on my beloved Scotch bonnets. I really haven’t been able to deal with more than one physical discomfort at a time.

So, yes, after those two ingredients have had time to mingle, I mix in a load of sliced mushrooms. I buy bags of pre—sliced ones nowadays, not out of laziness, but merely as a way of freeing up space in my depressingly-tiny fridge. I mean, just look at a carton of whole mushrooms and take note of all the wasted space in there! If they’re pre-sliced, it means they can lie nice and flat on the shelf.

Once these three key ingredients have cooked down somewhat, releasing all their natural juices, I add the garlic and herbs and spices to taste. Another good reason for using large red chillies, instead of bell peppers, is that a) the moisture release is minimal and b) they don’t stink quite like peppers do. I love bell peppers, especially the green ones, but they do reek a bit!

The first time I made this, part of the idea was to use up the last two slices of bread in a loaf. I can’t abide waste! They had gone slightly stale too, which meant the moisture in the pan didn’t completely disintegrate them. I now toast fresh slices, but only until they go a little hard. No browning, people! Technically, this means the recipe should be called: “Garlic Mushrooms on Toast”, but I really do eat it more like a sandwich.

After pouring the contents of the saucepan over the bread and sitting down to eat, I leisurely pick away at the top layer of mushrooms and chillies and prosciutto. Basically, this means that, once the filling isn’t too bulky, I can take each slice of bread and fold it in half like a taco, consuming the remainder of the dish like a ravenous beast! I’m sure that, if I employed the regular sandwich format of placing the filling between the two slices and pressing down, it’d all just annoyingly pour out the sides.

It’s all just so delicious and oh-so-simple!

Remember, the dried-out bread is a key factor.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Framed to Perfection LVI

CARNIVAL OF SOULS (1962)

Director: Herk Harvey

Cinematographer: Maurice Prather

“I don’t belong in the world.

That’s what it is.

Something separates me from other people!”

Story of my life, sister.

A film that stars off with a low-speed drag race, then proceeds to get even slower. Somehow. It makes the hypnotic pace of Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo feel like Michael Bay’s Vertigo.

Urgh, can you imagine that?! Then cinema will truly be dead.

Carnival of Souls swings back and forth between banal human exchanges and beguiling cinematic beauty. It just can’t decide whether it is lazy exploitation or genuine art. I guess you can have both. I mean, have you seen the Star Wars prequels?!

This film is worth watching for its amusing awkwardness, if nothing else.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles! 

Framed to Perfection LV

NOTE: This article was intended as a little Halloween joke. I mean, what’s more scary than the notion that Mac and Me is better than ET. So, yes, just a joke. Or… IS IT?!

MAC AND ME (1988)

Director: Stewart Raffill

Cinematographer: Nick McLean

Contrarian prick mode activated!

Oh and, yes, I watched the MST3K version, so I may have missed a few things.

Apparently, this is: “One of the Worst Films Ever Made!”. But I don’t see it. The usual complaints are: the title is just awful, it’s a blatant ET rip-off, and its gratuitous product placement is suffocating. Meh. What films in the 80s and 90s didn’t rip-off Steven Spielberg movies?! Even films produced by Spielberg are, to this day, thought to have been secretly ghost-directed by him.

Nonsense, of course, but such theorists at least have a point.

I’ve never liked ET. Even as the “target audience” for it, I hated it. I was off sick from school one day and my parents rented a copy for me to watch. I thus got sicker as the day progressed. I still don’t believe it’s a family film. It’s an utterly miserable experience, that should be avoided at all costs. In fact, I don’t think anyone truly likes ET. It’s usually just forced on people. Usually sick kids, such as myself.

Parents: “Here you go, Jamie, we rented ET for you so you can get better!”

Me: “No!”

Parents: “There, there! You’ll be well soon!”

Me: [vomits blood]

Mac and Me isn’t a lazy B-movie, as I always assumed it would be. No, somebody spent a lot of time and effort on it. There’s an artistic vision here, so clearly the producer didn’t just shove a copy of the script into the director’s hand on Monday and said: “There, get on with it!”. It’s not one of the worst films ever made. Believe me.

Yes, the title is crap. Yes, it is clearly in the ET mould. No, the product placement isn’t that obnoxious. The notorious “McDonald’s scene” goes on for less than a minute. Get-the-fuck over it.

I have no idea what’s going on in the above shot, but my retinitis pigmentosa assures me that it’s a great shot that’s worthy of mention.

You tell me.

One important point about Mac and Me, which I am not bringing up for tiresome politically-correct reasons, is that the film doesn’t make a big deal about its protagonist being disabled. Eric is just in a wheelchair. That’s it. So, surely, the film gets credit for being so cool about such a thing. Well, I think it does.

Mac and Me is a fine film, let down simply by its admittedly-shitty title and some lazy film journalism. It’s not worth seeking out, but neither is it worth avoiding. It proudly is what it is. Is it better than ET? Hmm… possibly.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

47

Yes, folks, the subject of a potential annual world holiday, if there ever was one.

As the UK government uses hypothetical child safety as an excuse to remove our freedoms, Kinderen voor Kinderen employs the lyrical ideas and vocals of kids to bring people together and inspire joy. It’s a shame their albums are now released so late in the year, but considering the whole thing is designed around a live television performance, release dates are clearly dictated by the TV transmission slot.

It just feels more like a summer event, is all.

KvK is no accursed singing contest, of course, as the Dutch people just put on the show every year for fun. There are no losers, because technically there are no winners. Unless you count us, the listener. Honestly, why compete, when you can just do something for the pure enjoyment of the experience?! The citizens of the Netherlands have so much to teach us.

A rare thing, 47 opens with a song that knows it’s an opener, with a lively “Hallo!” and count-in. Basically, things don’t just awkwardly stutter to life, which is often the sad case. “Spot aan” is a solid stomper and mission statement. Then comes 8-bit ska epic “Na-aper”. What?! Trust me, it just works, with its dark vocal melody contrasting its danceable beat.

Ethereal acoustic ballad “Groep 8” comes, perhaps, one track too early. You get the feeling the opening pace should have been kept going for just a little longer. Never mind, as the song is as good as any such song, whether that’s a positive thing or a negative thing. It does feature my favourite vocal performance on the album though, so that at least makes it a stand-out. 47 then follows this up with the delightful “Jodeladihee”. Truly an homage to the bouncy rhythms of producer Henk Temming, its escalating tempo defies musical physics very enjoyably indeed.

Then comes, what I consider to be, something of a mistake. While I sometimes believe in putting two similar songs together, so as to confirm to the listener that there isn’t an error on their copy, “Ola ole olee” simply should have been omitted entirely. The two tracks sound like duel parts of the same song, but I do not believe they are. The latter also has a football chant vibe to it, a subject that usually doesn’t inspire worthwhile creativity. “Ola ole olee” isn’t a terrible song, but “Jodeladihee” did the exact same thing only seconds earlier.

Hmmm…

“Feestje” evokes The Jackson 5, with its natural warmth certainly being a highlight here. It’s so good-natured in fact that, no matter how low your mood, you’ll surely have a big smile on your face by the end. And what’s so wrong with that?! What’s wrong with “Geen kind alleen” is that it reminds me of a pompous BBC documentary or insipidly-generic period drama. Yuck! Saying that, the stringed instrument at its heart, a cello perhaps, is a unique occurrence amidst KvK’s usual sound, so it gets points for that.

“Also een vis in het water” couldn’t be a more perfect mid-album crowd-pleaser if it tried. A hit single in waiting and a wonderfully lively antidote to its plodding predecessor. Another highlight and, without a doubt, what we all came to 47 and KvK for in the first place. “Kriebels” is a charming pallet cleanser, with its inclusion of spoken word elements being just adorable.

“We are NXT” tragically sounds like somebody’s embarrassing dad trying to be cool, so that’s about all I’ll say about it. If it weren’t for it reminding me of fabulous pop duo t.A.t.U., then it would be utterly forgettable. Instead, it gets 2-out-of-5 instead of a very generous 0-out-of-5. “Laat je maar horen” begins the languid jog to the finish line, with “Ik voel het” complimenting it nicely, albeit with an irritating chorus.

I mean, why annoy us so late in the game?!

I’d have preferred the album to go out with a bang, but instead it just sort-of dribbles to a close. Meh. An artistic decision, for sure, but not necessarily a pleasing one. This is meant to be a collection of frothy power-pop ditties after all, not the… erm… ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Did I really just say that?! I guess I did.

47 continues KvK’s insistence on placid professionalism over the “cuteness factor” of their music hall-inspired early works. It’s up to you which tone you like the most, of course, but I prefer a bare-bones production that includes cracked, slightly out-of-time vocals and a coquettish, rather than precocious, vibe. Each to their own, but my preference is far more important than yours.

Mwahahahaha!

In the real world, I’ve finally gotten round to contacting a local charity for support with my dwindling mobility and mental health, so perhaps I won’t need KvK’s primary-coloured positivity for much longer. That’ll be a shame. However, as the man said, all things must pass. 47 is better than most albums you’ll hear this year, as Kinderen voor Kinderen made it.

That fact will win-out every single damn time.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!

Dr Who and the Daleks (1965) - an emotional reaction

To viewers in the United Kingdom of a certain generation, Dr Who and the Daleks is probably most notable for co-starring Roy Castle, the beloved broadcaster who fronted Record Breakers. The show was a legally-distinguishable TV version of The Guinness Book of World Records, with Castle’s tenure ending with his death in 1994. For kids my age, his passing was akin to that of Jim Henson’s, and I shed an appropriate tear whilst watching this film.

I just thought I’d get that out of the way.

Dr Who and the Daleks is, to the Doctor Who television series, what Never Say Never Again is to the James Bond film series. Not cannon, basically. Meh, I couldn’t give two fucks about that. I grew up with Sylvester McCoy’s Doctor Who, which is regarded as the nadir of the series. While I have nothing but time for Mr McCoy, his entries certainly didn’t inspire me to stick with it. Still, to this day, I can take or leave Doctor Who, the admission of which may very well result in my British citizenship being revoked.

Oh well.

This is a charmingly-harmless little rollercoaster ride, feeling like the Death Star portion of Star Wars (1977) spread out over an entire film’s runtime. Which is no bad thing. Dr Who and the Daleks just keeps coming up with new things to entertain you with. I’d even equate it to puzzle video games, such as Tomb Raider or Uncharted. It appears to be shot entirely on sound stages, which all look just beautiful. Remember when every film looked this great?! There are no damn blue or green or purple screens anywhere!

Peter Cushing once again proves how versatile he was, this time playing a gentle father figure. You know, as opposed to an intimidating genocidal maniac. He could do both with ease. I used to think Star Wars was a low-point in his career, but it really wasn’t. He knew to be the best thing in any piece of crap that dropped onto his agent’s desk. He was a worker. Dr Who and the Daleks was probably just one of twenty or so films he made in 1965, but he still gives it his all.

My new favourite person is the ass-kicking character of “Susan”, for whom no adventure is too dangerous. She totally rocks! I initially thought she was going to be toe-curlingly annoying, but actress Roberta Tovey and the writers proved me dead wrong. I nearly cheered every time she unflinchingly stood up to the Daleks. Where’s her spinoff?!

Released only a few years after Dr No, the cavernous sets and musical score here did actually remind me of the Sean Connery-era James Bond films. I don’t know how faithful to the original novels those films were, but I’m guessing not very. Was that comment apropos of nothing?! Oh who cares. Anyway, there’s an amazing tracking shot in Dr Who and the Daleks, which follows one of the titular robots as it travels through a series of doors to join its coworkers. It’s simple, but effective, and let’s the viewer know that this wasn’t directed by a disinterested hack.

Whilst I’m sure dedicated fans of the Doctor Who television series get together and burn copies of Dr Who and the Daleks at conventions, this movie buff thought it was just delightful.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Exterminate!