Lights (Adapted AKA Sein)

New TouYube video about stuff and that. Being that my video of Joe Hisaishi's Kusare Umi Nite got shut down, I decided to re-use the same images from Hong Kong for 'Lights' by some chap named Adapted AKA Sein. It's another one off the old 'Raw Material' album that doesn't really seem to exist that I picked up in Nagoya.

Every 14 Days...(14)

The Beautiful and the Grotesque (Akutagawa Ryunosuke)

Japanese literary legend Akutagawa is a writer I’ve come across more from film adaptations than actually reading his work. I have polished off a few of his shorts (boom boom) in the past, most notably ‘Rashomon’ and ‘In a Grove’, but with ‘The Beautiful and the Grotesque’ I have more than doubled the number of his works that I have consumed.

A mix of weird and wonderful, the collection is started by a rather intriguing, if not overly long and bemusing, introduction by translator, John McVittie, which sets the collection in  a strange context. Typically well written, the collection is full of interesting life lessons in short story format that chiefly inform, educate and entertain.

But while each story has its own place, reading endless back-to-back new stories can leave some flying passed with barely a word being taken in. while some show why so much has been put on his talents, others I can barely remember, and so may have to be read another day…if I can be arsed.

Days to read: 22

Days per book: 14.3

Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman (Murakami Haruki)

From one legend of Japanese writing to a more modern day equivalent – though not so much in his motherland. And another long collection of short stories – will I ever learn?! With an introduction by the author himself, the collection is both old and new, with some of his very first short stories previously unreleased in English combined with some newer works.

Like in previous anthologies of his that I’d read, some of the shorts were turned into full novels and so some of what was read was familiar, and the inclusion of ‘Tony Takitani’, made into an excellent film, I was often aware of the end results.

The stories here all have something in common: being rather strange. As with much of his work, there has to be a sense of accepting the incredible and once that’s done, they can be enjoyed. There are hits and misses here, but overall entertaining.

This now marks my completion of all Murakami’s work translated into English and available in the UK, so someone needs to either translate his earlier stuff of he needs to write some more.

It was also while reading this book that my ‘Every 14 Days’ experiment shot to fame via Richard Herring’s ‘Warming Up’ blog. Read here and listen there. 50 books read in 716 days, falling just short of my target two years in to this failed experiment and counting…

Days to read: 16

Days per book: 14.3

I Can Make You Hate (Charlie Brooker)

The latest in the line of the father Konnie Huq’s son’s columns from ‘The Guardian’ and more of the same. With the death of his ‘Screen Burn’ column part way through the time period, some scripts from his television shows have been thrown in for fun. However, as these are items done using cutaways and video clips, they are not always as effective in print and so could have been left out at little detriment to the overall collection.

The removal of ‘Screen Burn’ means that there are less ‘Big Brother’ obsessed moments and more of a range of topics to entertain while your anus is expanded as you evacuate your bowels.

Days to read: 11

Days per book: 14.2

Back Story (David Mitchell)

Sex, drugs and rock n roll. This is neither the time nor the place.

It’s fair to say that David Mitchell hasn’t exactly lived a wild and crazy existence up until now. Despite obviously having the interesting aspect of a career in television comedy to comment on, his life outside of work could be described as quite unremarkable: He went to a minor public school, then was chairman of Footlights at Cambridge before taking the leap to work low level jobs in London while trying to fulfil the ambition of a career in the media that many fail to achieve.

While he’d certainly be the most interesting of your friends and one to definitely include on the invites to a dinner party, he has little of a love life in which to speak of and the only real scandal surrounding him is that he isn’t as similar to Mark Corrigan in real life as one might have originally thought. And that’s what makes this a more interesting autobiography than many.

Keeping in line with a lack of any shocking life events of which to speak, the memoir is based around the fact that after suffering from a bad back, he was encouraged to take walks to improve his physical state. Staring off in his home in Kilburn, Mitchell makes his way through the London streets, ending at Television Centre, Wood Green. Along the journey, various landmarks recall a chronological account of the various stages of his life. Maybe not completely original in chronological and metaphorical recounting, but nice nonetheless.

What it lacks in shock value it makes up for in pure pedantry in his trademark logical manner. It’s an honest account – particularly regarding his recent engagement – and provides insight into his opinions on how television works and why most of it is lacking. And if reading at Waterloo Station, a fat woman might say ‘good choice’ to you.

Days to read: 19

Days per book: 14.3

Politic 19

Sounds and noises at said locationsssssssssssss...

Subway Theme - Grand Wizard Theodore
Feel The Void - Fat Jon
Here Come The Dix - The Dix
Read Days  - Madlib
75 Bars (Black's Reconstruction)
Blessing Dance - Nomak
Battery - Aesop Rock
Basic Cable - Aesop Rock
Episode XXIV - Madlib
Tee Fall - Blake Leyh
Cock Mobster - MC Paul Barman
Eyes - Fat Jon
Skippin Stonze - Baby Elephant
Allegro Instrumental - Michita
Innocent Leader - El-P
Anarchist Bookstore, Pt. 1 - MC Paul Barman
100% Dundee - The Roots
The Racist - Boogie Down Productions 
What You Want This Time? - Gang Starr
Give The People (Jeep Remix) - EPMD
No Omega - Eric B & Rakim
Turn My Teeth Up! - Baby Elephant

London Korean Film Festival 2012

Recently, Korea has been put on the map – in a pop culture-sense, of course; Korea has been on the map in a cartography-sense now for some millennia – by a tubby man jumping around like an idiot. But no, not that one with the huge DVD collection and very good golf handicap; but by one demonstrating his favoured sexual position in the medium of dance.

So, now everyone loves everything Korean, let’s have a film festival. The annual London Korean Film Festival is now in its seventh year and is great as you get a free man-bag with every viewing. I’ve been to the festival in previous years – unable to recall what I saw – and again this year went to some of the one-off screenings at various cinemas around London in what is quite an extensive bill put on by the Korean Cultural Centre this outing.

Starting off with some K-animation, I saw ‘The King of Pigs’: a film with the character design of Bevis and Butthead and the animation of Thunderbirds. At their school, Jong-suk and Kyung-min were subject of a hierarchical system that keeps them with the lowest of the low, while those up high keep tormenting them on a daily basis. Around two decades later, the pair of school friends meet up for the first time in years to discuss their old classmate Chul who had stood up for the pair all those years ago. Fighting back, the enraged Chul wants to ensure that those in power will not look back on their school days with fond memories.

As stated, there is something very Mike Judge about the look and feel of the characters, though this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Also, the digital animation tries to create realistic actions in the characters, but instead leaves them bouncing along like odd puppets on a string. This creates some laughs to start, but quickly fades into the background as the film progresses.

There is little original in the storyline: films reminiscing over life-defining moments at school are common place and the characters are quite typical of bullying drama. But the ‘King od Pigs’, by director is Yeun Sang-ho is an entertaining enough social commentary about the haves and the have-nots and the places it leads us. Though do ignore the last line of the film – a meal should end with cheese, not a piece of art.

Next up and finally is ‘As One, Korea’, the story of the 1991 World Table Tennis Championship in which North and South Korea set aside their differences for a game of table tennis. Tired of always losing to those pesky Chinese, the two nations decide to make a once-in-a-generation decision to reunite the two countries divided by the 38^th Parallel.

Cue an opening half hour of cultural differences with hilarious consequences, leaving the actresses lumped with playing the roles of our friends in the North to have less fashionable haircuts, including everybody’s favourite electrocuted-until-she-pisses-herself actress, Bae Doo-na. Starting off as a comedy depicting the straight-edge and regimented North having to stand beside their wilder, Southern cousins, it then turns into a sports film, complete with musical montages as the two groups of players learn to get along and start winning some table tennis matches. Then, of course, the politics in thrown in with the North Korean players scolded for their drinking of alcohol and reading of jazz pamphlets, before it all gets a little bit too sentimental towards the end.

How much of all this actually took place, I don’t know. The end result did actually occur, though (spoiler alert!) France finished with the bronze medal, not Britain, as the film suggests (this is the LONDON Korean Film Festival, after all), though the story of how we got there is no doubt exaggerated in places. Though the unification of nations for sporting reasons will naturally bring with it dispute – imagine if England, Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland decided to unify for a football team at say, the Olympic Games. The result would be disastrous.  

But politics and reality aside, ‘As One, Korea’ is a good and entertaining film that – sentimentality aside – doesn’t get bogged down too much in one focus, and is for all to enjoy, Capitalists and Communists alike…though probably not the Communists.

Happy with my free bag, other commitments meant I did not get to see anywhere near as many of the films as I would have liked, though with around thirty films shown in little over a week, I’d be mad to want to sit in a darkened room that much.

Sampling is Fun 2

Layer cake...

Take this...


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And smear with this...



...And serve

56th BFI London Film Festival

Another year, another London Film Festival I miss due to having to work and being too slow to get round to booking tickets and finding anything I want to see already sold out. But not this year. With greater daytime freedom and more forward planning, I managed to make it to five of the 200+ films on display this year, confounding expectations by going to films from three, count them, continents.

But, as ever, let’s start in Japan. At the grand, old NFT I went to see ‘The Samurai That Night’, a tale of a widower seeking revenge for the hit-and-run killing of his wife five years previous. Nakamura has become a depressive, living in a dream world since his wife’s death, lacking any emotions or drives beyond one thing: vengeance. The killer of his wife, now free, starts to receive daily death threats in lead up to the five year anniversary of the event. Obvious where the threats came from, friends and family try and stop the final showdown before it’s too late.

The Samurai That Night

The film builds nicely, creating a sense of suspense, with a good performance from the lead, Masato Sakai. But, with any film that builds so much towards a finale, it is always tricky to execute an ending suitable for what has come before it. Here, the ending feels a little confused in parts and leaves you guessing as to what the final outcome will be, but in the end, probably does just enough to satisfy, concluding that death is that old metaphor for change.

1960s, high school musical set in Kabukicho, Tokyo…it has to be…it must be…it is Miike Takashi, once again making you wonder what the Hell he is going to do next. With the recent ’13 Assassins’, he proved his ability to work with a larger budget and now returns with the pop music video ‘For Love’s Sake’ (currently winner of the largest number of film titles award). Absolutely perfect Ai loves the downright arsehole Makoto, who saved her when she was younger. Returning the favour, she persuades her endlessly bourgeois parents to pay for his education and thus save him from being sent to a young offenders institute. But, of course, the plan fails; Makoto wanting to prove he is the world’s biggest arsehole at every opportunity.

Cue massive dance routines, horrendously catchy J-Pop songs and a teenage boy beating the shit out of a girl while she sings of her love for him. A script in Miike’s hands can truly become anything, and here again he proves his uniqueness even among Japanese directors. As with many of his films, it’s probably a little too long, a bit bumpy in parts and is at times purely stupid for the sheer joy of it, but proves that despite the high number of films he produces each year they are still of a reasonably high quality.

I’ve never been to Cine Lumiere before – part of the part of the Institut Francais, where clearly everyone is very tall and likes leaving the pubic hair in the urinal – but here the chance was given to actually speak to a real-life Japanese director and receive a long, comprehensive response via an interpreter. 

Miwa Nishikawa introduced her fourth film ‘Dreams for Sale’, where a couple, down on their luck after their restaurant burnt down, try to rebuild their lives as the husband seduces vulnerable women into parting with their money in return for some face-stroking, massage and good old coitous. The more the money flows, the more ambitious they become, seeking more and more money. As you can predict, their greed stretches a step too far, with dire consequences.

Dreams for Sale

The film raises interesting ideas about the concept of truth and deception, with the director wanting to – in her interpreter’s words – ‘explore how people reveal their true selves in times of crisis.’ An all-star cast play out the story, and having been the student of Kore-eda Hirokazu, Nishikawa is clearly a director for the future: a female director that ‘doesn’t necessarily want to make films about women.’

Next we head west to Africa, Senegal to be exact and a film featuring American rapper/poet Saul Williams. Meaning today, ‘Tey’ is Senegalese director Alain Gomis piece about a man that has one day left on this Earth. Having returned from America, Satche wakes surrounded by friends and family before wondering almost aimlessly round the city before returning to his wife and children to end the day.

Being That Williams is an American, and so having no knowledge of any foreign languages, the dialogue is kept to quite a minimum in this one. There is no particular narrative other than that of a man wondering on his last day on Earth, unsure as to what to do and where to go. He bounces from family to groups of friends to women to senior dignitaries to his family home.

Tey

There are some interesting crowd scenes within the cityscape as he moves around, though there is little that is really said nor concluded for me throughout to have any real impact. It is an interesting enough film, but is a little unsatisfying come the end. You can state that this is a film of an introspective look back at a life and places of the past, and it is to an extent, but with little explanation as to context this could be any day in a life on Earth.

North we now go and to that place called London. Tom Shkolnik’s debut ‘The Comedian’ is a film about London and relevant to anyone that has met someone living in the Hackney area. Ed is a call centre worker, not a comedian, that is his evening passion, but something that is not dwelt on too much. With his comedy career still not taking off and his depression at call centre work, he becomes involved in a bisexual love dodecahedron involving a young bartender/artist, his ‘musician’ flatmate and a colleague from the call centre. But all soon crumbles and he is left to look at what is next for himself.

Using close up camerawork and fast editing, ‘The Comedian’ throws you right into the middle of situations, creating a realistic atmosphere lacking in music but high on emotional outbursts and confrontation. Shkolnik’s London is one of unrealised dreams, heavy drinking, mundane work life and confrontation, which works to good effect, featuring various characters and scenarios common in the modern day capital.

The Comedian

‘The Comedian’ is an ironic title, featuring little in the way of actual stand-up routines, focusing more on the day-to-day realities of the many ‘artists’ throughout London, where people are more likely to say what they want to be than what they actually are.

Finally having got round to seeing some of the offerings from the festival – that I can remember anyway – it’s good to see films fresh, rather than having to wait years for them to reach British shores. The five films I went to see were all different but interesting and leave me making sure I will bother to get round to booking tickets next year. 

Slam/Bamboozled

Now, here are two films I remember watching many moons ago, and for some strange reason was compelled to watch again. Of both, I remember slightly unusual techniques and styles, feeling more like home movies than big-budget films. But, neither is particularly big-budget; both controversial in their own way and quite experimental, designed to create emotion more than they are to entertain. Both, therefore, are not great films, but interesting ones nonetheless, perhaps not fully getting their ideas across, but based on good ideas.

Starting with ‘Slam’, we see young Raymond Joshua living in D.C., working as a small-time drug dealer, occasionally writing the odd verse of poetry. Caught in a gang-land shooting, he sees himself arrested and trapped with the choice of going to prison or going to prison on a drug possession charge. Angered and frustrated, he again finds himself trapped in the middle of a gang dispute in prison resulting in him letting out his grievances in the form of poetry in the prison yard.

Slam

If you like, ‘Slam’ is a musical; not so much a film, but a vehicle to showcase the talents of the cast as poets and emcees. Much of the cast are poets and/or rappers appearing in a debut acting role, or one of their few and had a big hand in the writing. Saul Williams plays the lead role, with Sonja Sohn (that ‘dyke cunt’ from ‘The Wire’), Bonz Malone and Beau Sia taking up supporting roles, among others. The acting and story, therefore, are never fully polished, with writer/director Mark Levin known more for his documentaries than feature films.

The story moves on a little too quickly in parts and character motivation is not always fully explored, beyond William’s character. But with the low-budget feel, this has that trapped-in-time quality, feeling isolated from the rest of the world. There is nothing Earth-shattering here, but some interesting social comment and, at times, powerful performances.

Spike Lee’s ‘Bamboozled’ is a satire of modern television and what those watching the ‘idiot box’ have come to expect on the small screen. Damon Wayans plays Pierre Delacroix, a sit-com writer criticised by a ‘more black than black people’ network executive for writing shows that are ‘too white,’ featuring ‘white people with black faces.’ Pushed to deny the existence of a middle-class African-American, Delacroix works to create a show so ‘black’ as to shock America into realising the stereotypes that are portrayed on every day television. Ticking-off every racial stereotype imaginable, he creates ‘Mantan: The New Millennium Minstrel Show’.

Bamboozled

Amazingly, the show is a success, working only to further stereotypes rather than destroy them; leaving Delacroix viewed as a sell-out. Success and fame are predictably the downfall of those involved resulting in tragedy.

‘Bamboozled’ is an interesting film for Lee to have made at the time; rising in his career and choosing to make a film that is quite low on a number of things. To start, the cast is low on out-and-out actors – and you can include Damon Wayans and Jada Pinkett-Smith within that – using rappers and comedians in many roles. It is also a film low on any nice Hollywood gloss and sheen – an effect probably desired considering the subject matter. The one thing it is high on is camera numbers, using numerous handhelds to take shots from various angles, such as audience reactions to a new breed of minstrel show. This creates a claustrophobic and documentary-like feel to the film.

Bamboozled

But being a satire, the film is more about the point it is trying to make; the use of footage from old television and film portrayals of African-Americans throughout and montaged at the end highlighting this. References are made to various moments where art and politics have collided, as well as using real-life figures vocal in such areas.

But ultimately, ‘Bamboozled’ ends up a little messy in final execution. The lack of any real acting talent leaves performances a little wooden, as well as the characters they portray a little too extreme, notably the Mau Mau, led by Mos Def, who feel a little unrealistic despite Mos Def’s usually charismatic onscreen performances. A little too much can be rammed down your throat at times, with all imagery and dialogue geared towards one thing.

Bamboozled

Neither ‘Slam’ nor ‘Bamboozled’ will ever be regarded as great films, nor will they probably be remembered by many. But both are interesting examples of more creative film-making. Big budget effects, state-of-the-art camerawork and even actors are not required, as long as the film is based on a strong idea and purpose. They are portrayals of writers, trapped in different situations as they struggle to overcome stereotypes, relying on the talents of their non-acting casts. Well-executed at times or not, both still offer more than the endless big budget sequels and re-makes that make-up the majority of box office takings. 

Every 14 Days...(13)

The Sound of Waves (Mishima Yukio)

Stumbling about a book shop looking for something to read, I came across the name Mishima Yukio and randomly decided to take a punt on a randomly chosen book of his. ‘The Sound of Waves’ is what I came away with: a tale of first love – probably not the best one to have chosen really.

Humble boy fisherman Shinji starts getting boners over the mysterious Hatsue, the returning daughter of the wealthiest man on the small island of Utajima (‘Song Island’). Eventually meeting her and speaking to her, it’s not long before they are stood naked before each other. But, being that they are young, unmarried and she is the pick of the birds, it’s not long before rumour and gossip spread rife through the community, shaming both their names.

There’s no doubt that Mishima is a good writer, with a nice, flowing style that reads easily, but I’m not really sure what the point of this book is – if it’s that true love shines through, then that’s just a bit shit and gay really. But I’m sure it’s something much more along the lines of the nature of gossip and scandal in a community that revolves around traditional values. ‘The Sound of Waves’ is perhaps not his best work, with ‘The Sea of Fertility’ his most celebrated work, but marks the discovery of a new writer that will undoubtedly make an appearance in the future, despite having committed seppuku forty-two years ago.

Days to read: 15

Days per book: 14.3

You are Nothing (Robert Wringham)

‘If you’ve only ever read one book in your life…I strongly recommend that you keep your mouth shut.’

- Simon Munnery

It’s quite often that a lot of the furore and protest over controversial comedies – such as the will-become-appropriate-later ‘Jerry Springer the Opera’ – is conducted by people that have not actually seen what they are protesting about. What they are saying, therefore, has to be taken with a pinch of salt and filed under ‘words of a bored nutter’. But, what if it’s the other way round, and someone shamelessly praises something that they have never seen?

Enter Robert Wringham and his book ‘You are Nothing’, an account of the Cluub Zarathustra comedy night from 1990s London which featured a heavyweight line-up of Simon Munnery, Stewart Lee (Stew Art Wee), Kevin Eldon, Sally Philips, Richard Thomas, Harry Hill, Roger Mann, Al Murray, Johnny Vegas, Graham Linehan, Peter Baynham, Richard Herring, Julian Barratt, among others. Beyond having seen the unaired Channel 4 pilot on YouTube and that much of Simon Munnery’s material was later used in ‘Attention Scum’ on BBC2, I know little of Cluub Zarathustra. But, with the list of names performing early work that would go on to become huge stars of British comedy and Richard Herring, it’s believable that I would have loved the experimental showcase if I had seen it.

And this is Robert Wringham’s approach: write a book about something you’ve never seen, but assume you would have enjoyed if you had seen it, and try to make the most of sketchy twenty year-old memories of people who were probably drugged-up and/or drunk at the time. Speaking on ‘Richard Herring’s Leicester Square Theatre Podcast’ (RHLSTP!), Stewart Lee jokes about the possible validity of the idea, much has he would have questioned the argument of the 50,000 or so Christians who took him to court over ‘Jerry Springer the Opera’. And when reading the book, it’s hard not to have a sense of this is a man writing close to 200 pages in rather a subjective manner about something he never saw.

Though having said that, it is good that an account is being made at a time when all of the performers are still in a position to still have some memory of it, no matter how vague. Given the endless list of television shows, stand-up performances and even films that the bit-part line-up went on to produce, it can only be agreed that Cluub Zarathustra certainly has an important part to play in British comedy history and is worthy of a documented account – even though it is a Go Faster Stripe Book and will probably only be read by a couple of hundred people at most!

A couple of years ago, I posted a comment on the Cluub Zarathustra pilot episode on YouTube. This led to a response from a man identified only as ‘Rob’ to message me asking if I’d ever seen Cluub Zarathustra live. One can only hope that Mr Wringham wasn’t that desperate in his research and that anyone writing any book ever should use every other tool available to them before asking me for my account.

Days to read: 11

Days per book: 14.2

The Motorcycle Diaries (Ernesto Che Guevara)

Watch the film, read the book, feel intellectually superior to you now that I have read the book and you haven’t.

Gap years are great, aren’t they? Gain work experience, go travelling, become an important politic icon of the Twentieth Century. So the film would have you believe, anyway. This is, as stated, more of a travel log of two friends travelling across South America, one of which went on to become a famous Marxist revolutionary. The film plays on events having great significance in shaping Guevara’s change in political ideology along the journey, but that is not the case. While the travels will have undoubtedly had an impact on his future self, he did, of course, go back to University after the travels to finish his course.

Mainly, it is an account of naivety, blagging and having to sleep rough. It should probably have been called ‘The Unicycle Diaries’, as La Poderosa  gave up on them quite early on and much of the journey was spent hitching, flying in the air or sailing by boat. It was probably this fact: travelling on foot, hitching lifts and getting in with locals rather than speeding past on a bike that would have led to a greater impact on Guevara, making the title seem a little ironic in hindsight.

The man he became would happen later: here he is like any other male student, unsure where he is going, in search of adventure and having a laugh. Now for me to write my book: ‘Travelled Round Japan, then I Became a Member of the Green Party’…or something.

Days to read: 10

Days per book: 14.1

Turn My Teeth Up! (Baby Elephant)

New YouTubeness from the wacky fun wagon that is Baby Elephant (Prince Paul, Bernie Worrell and Newkirk). Photo from somewhere along the Regents Canal in London a few years back. No one else had put this up, so I did. I mainly like the ending...

Sampling is Fun 1

Chicken and egg...

This...



Followed by this...



And then this...

Samsara

Being the photo arsehole that I am, enjoying pictures at jaunty angles, my girlfriend bought me the remastered version of the 1992 film ‘Baraka’. Featuring some of the world’s beauty spots, and America, as well as (in)famous religious and political landscapes, the film is a documentary-like collection of lingering shots and sped-up scenes of the world as it rotates.

Remastered, the shots look stunning, despite being originally released at the same time as ‘Home Alone 2: Lost in New York’, and is a feast for the eye and mind. Twenty years on, ‘Samsara’ (Sanskrit for ‘to flow on’) is a follow up piece, shot by director Ron Fricke.

Again, probably shot over a number of years in a number of different countries and locations, ‘Samsara’ is very much more of the same from where ‘Baraka’ left off. Similar shots of a sped-up night sky over desert rocks are used, as well as various different religious figures going about their daily business. Having watched ‘Baraka’ only days before seeing it, you can wonder what the need for ‘Samsara’ is.

But while ‘Baraka’ focuses mainly on landscapes and geographic elements, its successor looks much more to human geography and images of modern humanity. This is probably where the film lacks a little, as shots of tattooed-up, LA gangbangers, the dancing Filipino prisoners of Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center (CPDRC) or the Ladyboys of Bangkok are neither new nor particularly that interesting. Rather than capturing people in more natural states in ‘Baraka’, here it feels like there are too many staged dance routines, performance art and a slightly forced image of a geisha sheading a single tear.

There is still room for the juxtapositions of those in one part of the world creating a vice for those in another: those in South America making the cigarettes for those in Japan to smoke becomes Chinese and Danish factory farming feeding obese Americans. Again though, these are not particularly new concepts or ideas – a difficulty when shooting a film over a number of years. Images of Chinese factories seem almost purely recycled from 2007’s ‘Manufactured Landscapes’ and only add to a sense of ‘it’s been done.’

But having said that, while ‘Samsara’ is no longer as original as what has come before it, it is still a good cinematic experience to see some of the more interesting spots on the planet shot from increasingly jaunty angles, and show that to make a film look superior all you need is good cinematography and some creativity…though I do still feel that my camerawork at Fushimi Inari Shrine in Kyoto is much better, as does everybody else.

The Art of Rap: Something for Nothing

'I’m like the kill the police rapper Ice-T’

- Richard Herring

Ah, rap music; ignorant, ignorant rap music. How I love ye. If only someone could make a documentary about it. Well, someone has: the kill the police rapper Ice-T in fact. Of course, many documentaries have been made about hip hop, largely focusing on more commercial names, many telling a similar dull story and aren’t particularly that well made.

So, what does director Ice-T have for us? Well, ‘The Art of Rap’ is less a documentary and more a collection of interviews with some of the more famous and influential names to bless the mic, as well as all proving their place in the film by showing their skills minus any beats.

Ice-T’s interviewing is essentially to ask three questions: why doesn’t hip hop get the same respect as jazz and rhythm n blues?; what is your contribution to hip hop?; and what advice would you give to any new rappers? This essentially comes back with the answers: hip hop has a lot more attitude; and hip hop is something different to everybody – things pretty much anyone could have told you.

But this isn’t a documentary designed to tell a story or come up with any great answers; it’s a showcase for the purists of some of the best emcees busting rhymes. Unlike ‘Scratch’ which tells a story of the origins of DJing, little is mentioned about the development of rapping beyond the chronological order in which emcees are introduced, starting in the various boroughs of New York before moving across to LA. More focus is rightly given to East Coast emcees, particularly the likes of Grandmaster Caz getting as much screen time as bigger names such as Eminem and Kanye ‘why am I here, really?’ West.

‘The Art of Rap’ is not designed to educate, simply entertain and show some top-notch freestyling while sat in a cinema, which is a good thing. Ice-T is the best person to act as host for all this, having the charisma of a Hollywood star with the added bonus of being the O.G. rapper. It’s interesting to hear the individual motivations, though there is little to really shatter the Earth beyond the closing thoughtful message from Snoop ‘always be Doggy to me’ Dogg, of all people.

Here’s a man talking…

Every 14 Days...(12)

The Road to Wigan Pier (George Orwell)

‘…we have nothing to lose but our aitches.’

Trekking up nort’, t’e first ‘alf of Orwell’s ‘T’e Road to Wigan Pier’ in an, at times, ‘ars’ account of working class life in Britain, c’arting ‘is accounts of living quarters, trips down working mines and t’e general squalor of urban life in t’e industrial towns ‘e visited. T’e descriptions are detailed and bleakly negative, seemingly condemning of t’e working class by t’e lower-upper-middle class writer taken out of context. But t’e furt’er you read, t’e more t’e language is not a criticism of t’ose ‘e comes across, but more t’e system t’at creates t’em. Often t’ose ‘e comes across are described as ‘noble’ and ‘e is full of respect for t’e work t’at t’ey carry out, but also ‘e writes of ‘ow t’ey will never receive t’at same respect from ot’ers in ‘ig’er orders.

T’e second ‘alf is muc’ more controversial, and looks at t’e ideology be’ind class differences and political discourse. Based on ‘is experiences in Burma, Paris, London and ‘is trip nort’, ‘e is critical of bot’ t’ose on t’e Rig’t and t’e Left and could leave anyone t’at read it feeling a little alienated in any number of ways.

Part One is at times brilliant; at times a calculation of weekly incomes. Some of t’e descriptions flow poetically and s’ow t’e ‘ars’ness of t’e situation for many in 1930s England. Part Two can feel rant-like, wit’ page-long paragrap’s and individual criticisms, but like Part One, offers insig’ts from 75 years ago t’at could be applied today, particularly in lig’t of last year’s riots. 

Days to read: 17

Days per book: 14.2

Down and Out in Paris and London (George Orwell)

Something of a theme here…

Before making ‘is trip up nort’, Orwell spent time in Paris and London, living on the fringes in both. The book is an account of his experiences in short chapters, each an anecdote of the various roles he took/was promised or the many characters he met along the way.

The Paris half is focuses on his work as a plongeur in Parisian restaurants. Here it is a day-to-day struggle to find both work and money for food, while mixing with various foreign immigrants to the French capital while spending what little money they have on wine. The conditions are hellish and hours long and hard for little reward. Many working like this come from better backgrounds in their native countries, but finding themselves scraping-by to serve their ‘superiors’.

London sees a delayed promise of work leaving him without an income for the period of one month. Exchanging his clothes, he lives the life of a tramp, bouncing between spikes and lodging house, looking for hand-outs wherever possible.

The book is more like a collection of short anecdotes than the more detailed and analytical ‘The Road to Wigan Pier’. Indeed, much of the interpretation, from London at least, is included in his later work and feels like research building up to ‘1984’.

Days to read: 16

Day per book: 14.3

The Vulture (Gil Scott-Heron)

The’ original rapper’, Gil Scott-heron is a man I became aware of through hip hop, learning of his music and poetry. But before his music career began, Scott-Heron wrote his debut novel while at University – essentially dropping out to complete it. A young New Yorker himself at the time, the story starts with the murder of teenager John Lee as an endpoint to the lives of four characters all connected to the victim over the past year.

Scott-Heron, therefore, takes on the narration of four personas, all with their differing connections to the victim and motivations leading up to the death in July 1969, as well as dialogue and interpretations. An overarching narrative is thrown in throughout to add details to the murder, though this is less of a who-done-it and more an insight into the mind-set of a young generation of Afro-Americans.

The writing is clearly that of a poet, with verses thrown in, and a language that oozes with imagery of early 1970s Blackploitation cinema. While not without its flaws, ‘The Vulture’s is a strong work and his influence on later generations can be felt throughout.

Days to read: 17

Days per book: 14.3

The Lonely Londoners (Sam Selvon)

My English Literature teacher during GCSEs used to read all dialogue in novels in the supposed accent in which it was intended. If I had studied ‘The Lonely Londoners’ at GCSE, English lessons would have been much more entertaining.

Moses, who would feature in later novels by Selvon, is a first point of contact at Waterloo Train Station for many Trinidadians coming to London via the south coast. The story tells of various anecdotes of the various characters he comes across and how they all struggle to fit into their new life as a Londoner.

Writing from experience, Selvon, a native of Trinidad moving to London in the 1950s, chose to write ‘The Lonely Londoners’ essentially in patois. Not just the dialogue, but the narration is also that of Caribbean tongue, making it – while fully understandable – difficult to read. To fully get into it, a fair few pages have to be polished off in one sitting to get into the Caribbean rhythms of the writing style.  Combined with sentences pages and pages long, ‘The Lonely Londoners’ is difficult to get into at times. But stick with it, and it becomes almost poetic and humorous in how each character describes their new home.

Days to read: 16

Days per book: 14.3

Politic 18

For words and noises, click here, or here...or even there

No B.S. Allowed - Stetsasonic
Questions and Answers - Boogie Down Productions
Talkin' All That Jazz - Stetsasonic
Them That's Not - J-Live
Sucker for Love - Prince Paul
Flattery - Prince Paul
I Want You (I'm an 80s Man) - Prince Paul
I Don't Wanna Lose You - Dooley-O
Declaration - De La Soul
A Peak in Time - Cut Chemist
The Scene Changes - Kowloon
Dangerous Mindz - Gravediggaz
2266 Cambridge - Cut Chemist and Thes One
Floating Museum - Kenji Kawai
Lesson 4 - DJ Shadow
Bust That Groove - Stetsasonic
Duck Down - Boogie Down Productions
Prince Paul vs. The World - Prince Paul

The Scene Changes (Kowloon)

Video for 'The Scene Changes' by Kowloon. Another track off the mythical 'Raw Material' break beats album I bought in Banana Records, Nagoya. Pictures taken from DJ Kentaro's set at XOYO in London in July 2012. Oooh, mysterious...

A Simple Life

It’s simple to say that ‘A Simple Life’ isn’t a typical Andy Lau film. There are no guns nor violence, nor indeed any action at all – this is as simple as film-making gets.

After 60 years working for a family as a maid, Ah Tao, played excellently by Deanie Ip, suffers a stroke and so retires. Not wanting to be a burden, she chooses to live in a retirement home in conditions much worse than she is used to. Lau plays Roger, the sole member of the family Ah Tao worked for to remain in Hong Kong, who takes time to visit Ah Tao as often as possible in tween his busy career in film production and learning to cook and clean for himself for once.

That’s it: plain and simple. Films like this demand good performances from the cast, more so than creative direction or writing, and the two leads deliver, notably Ip as the looks-far-too-good-to-be-in-her-seventies Ah Tao. Lau is also good in a role that sees him have to deal more with shooting facial expressions than shooting a gun. Smaller roles are often played by uber-mega-colossal stars of Hong Kong cinema. Sammo Hung, Raymond Chow, Hark Tsui and Anthony Wong, to name a few, all pop up here and there, adding a sense of humour while watching.

While the film is designed to be emotional and sad, there is no doubt that old people are funny, with facial expressions and stupid behaviour aplenty, giving the film a good balance.

You can’t expect an explosive film, but it never tries to be, with Ann Hui’s work being simple, yet effective. 

I'm 13% Good

When I was a certain age, I switched from BBC One to BBC Two at the end credits of Match of the Day and a film was just beginning. With little else to do at midnight on a Saturday, I decided to watch it. Being that I had a liking of kung-fu films, I was not perturbed by the fact that it was a film from Hong Kong in Cantonese with English subtitles. 97 minutes later at the end credits I had enjoyed what I had just watched, probably more so than the undoubted bore draw I had probably watched Villa play during Match of the Day.

That film was ‘Fallen Angels’ by Wong Kar-wai, and for many years, I had waited for its release on DVD which never came. A year ago, I went to Hong Kong and picked up a copy while there, so I could enjoy the film again first the first time in well over a decade. This week, on Monday, ‘Fallen Angels’ finally got a UK DVD release: a year to the day since my return from Hong Kong.

‘Fallen Angels’ isn’t a great film – it’s barely in Wong’s Top 5 – but is a film I remember as an early step into a love of Asian cinema, and so pretty influential in my life. Also in recent days, the BFI’s ‘Sight & Sound’ Magazine has published the results of its poll of ‘the greatest films of all time’ conducted among leading directors and critics.

‘Fallen Angels’ was, unsurprisingly, not featured. Wong’s ‘In the Mood for Love’ – my second favourite of his films – was, but out of the 100 films included, I have only watched 13 to date. In much the same way as Stewart Lee’s ‘41^st Best Stand-up Ever’, these polls serve only to make you feel less cultural and sophisticated and unable to attend fancy dinner parties. They are the opinions of others, who will have a lot more knowledge on the subject than you for they are experts who have way more time to study these films than us, who simply fly past for entertainment value. Few of the films are from beyond the 1960s, and so reflect the opinions of a different generation who are likely to know where the ‘inspiration’ for many of today’s directors came from. That’s what I told myself when I realised I had only seen 13% of ‘the greatest films of all time.’

The 13 that I have seen are as follows:

6. 2001: A Space Odyssey (Kubrick, 1968)

14. Apocalypse Now (Coppola, 1979)

17. Seven Samurai (Kurosawa, 1954)

21. The Godfather (Coppola, 1972)

24. In the Mood for Love (Wong, 2000)

26. Rashomon (Kurosawa, 1950)

=31. The Godfather Part II (Coppola, 1974)

=31. Taxi Driver (Scorsese, 1976)

35. Psycho (Hitchcock, 1960)

=53. North by Northwest (Hitchcock, 1959)

=53. Raging Bull (Scorsese, 1980)

=69. Blade Runner (Scott, 1982)

=69. Blue Velvet (Lynch, 1986)

All of these are films that I like (though I’m not a massive ‘Blue Velvet’ fan); and all bar 2 are films made before I was born, but how many would be in my personal top 13 favourite films? Well, I’d say about 4, maybe 5 if I’m feeling kinky, so it can be said the list is a pretty good reflection of film tastes. But what is more interesting is the publication of the individual top 10s of selected critics/directors, showing that an overall list is relatively uninteresting and that personal favourites and individual influences is a better way of looking at it. Here, you can see what people truly like, rather than just generic consistencies, such as the amount of people that will say that ‘The Godfather’ is one of their 10 favourite films; and titles you will never have heard of will invade your consciousness and may lead you to watch something you may not have considered.

While many of those asked will be of an older generation, and so their favoured films will reflect as much, there were still many younger critics/directors included and many still chose films made many moons ago. Very few were made in the new millennium, or indeed post-1980 showing an extended period of quantity over quality.

For fun, here is a list of the 13 films I consider to not necessarily be favourites, but important films in my life and ones I could probably watch over-and-over again. These are certainly not the greatest – though there is quite a bit of overlap with the 13 I have seen from the BFI poll – and there is probably a lot of bias in here, but there should be when deciding your favourite films. But don’t take my word for it: I’m only 13% good…

Hana-bi (Kitano, 1997)

Happy Together (Wong, 1997)

Do the Right Thing (Lee, 1989)

Rashomon (Kurosawa, 1950)

Taxi Driver (Scorsese, 1976)

In the Mood for Love (Wong, 2000)

Seven Samurai (Kurosawa, 1954)

Raise the Red Lantern (Zhang, 1991)

The Godfather (Coppola, 1972)

Clerks (Smith, 1994)

Enter the Dragon (Clouse, 1973)

Ghost in the Shell (Oshii, 1995)

Fallen Angels (Wong, 1995)

Correct

Did someone say 'old school?' No. Did someone say 'something that's old but is still good, but can't be called old school as old school basically refers to anything pre-Run DMC?' Yes.

Ai Weiwei: Never Sorry

Ai Weiwei isn’t just a hilarious name to say to any Englishman but also a name associated with freedom of speech in modern day China. An artist by trade, Mr Weiwei is now more (in)famous for saying ‘fuck you’ to the Chinese Government than putting any brush strokes to canvas.

‘Never Sorry’ is the documentary from debut director Alison Klayman resulting from her four years following China’s most famous artist as he travels around China and the world causing further and further headaches for local police and the Chinese Government. Concentrating as much on political acts than artistic ones, the film shows the importance of Twitter and social media in a country such as China, showing as many of his status updates throughout the film as Richard Herring will commit in a 90 minute period.  

The balance between politics and art is well maintained throughout, reminding that he has actually done some good works over the years - as well as breaking some old pots - while showing the political motivations in his work through interviews with various peers and colleagues over the last three decades.

But saying ‘fuck you’ and breaking some vase-thing doesn’t come without its fair share of problems. Various confrontations with police, sometimes violent, are shown, as well as his non-mysterious disappearance in 2011 and the momentary stem in the flow of his freedom of speech. The documentary is more about freedom of speech than a biopic of an artist, using him as an example of the impact of social networking, as well as what happens when the rules are broken.

There are some weak points, such as the mystery around his son with a woman that isn’t his wife – a topic that his wife is not questioned on and which he is coy – that is only mentioned and not explored; and his confrontation with police while sticking cameras in their faces probably provokes a response from law enforcement that would be met in most nations in the world.    

As noted, the fact that someone like Ai Weiwei exists shows that there has been some change in China over the years, though the fact that his words are met with such strong response from the Government shows that there is still a long way to go before China becomes a nation where people can freely express their opinions to the world on Twitter without fear of arrest and prosecution – unless, of course, you’re a Premiership footballer.