Sampling is Fun 5

Selective sounds of the nerdy drummer...

Pull back the cover...


Cut off the lights...


And call the law...


Bring on the juice...


Still good...


Turn over...


About to work me to death...

Raindance Film Festival 2015: Obon Brothers

There's something about a slow, black comedy about society's less-than-productive members shot in black and white. Jim Jarmusch's 'Coffee and Cigarettes'; Kevin Smith's 'Clerks'; other ones, which brings me to Kiyohiko Shibukawa and his role in 'And the Mud Ship Sails Away...': the black and white debut from Hirobumi Watanabe about a low life in a small town which ends as a psychedelic art piece. Shibukawa has been keeping himself busy of late, and again takes to a black and white screen to play a small town low life in Akira Osaki's second feature 'Obon Brothers'.

Takashi is the director of one film - seemingly, not much has gone his way since. Self-unemployed, failing to get any scripts funded and kicked out by his wife, he uses his brother's colon cancer and the need for a live-in carer as an excuse to put his life on hold and move back to a small town in Gunma. Spending his days cooking for his brother, he tries to claw back his old life, pitching weak film scripts and trying to talk his wife away from divorce papers.

His brother, Wataru, on the other hand, seems not to care for Takashi's car, mocking him for losing his wife, seemingly wishing he'd leave him in peace with his record player, piano and artificial anus. Takashi's life soon becomes one of falsehood, rejecting the advances of Ryoko, whom his best friend, Fujimura, set him up with. Living in hope that his old life will return, he quickly resorts to alcohol to avoid the reality of his present.

All good comedy needs a bit of soul, and much as Dante realises that he 'needs to shit or get off the pot' (not via an artificial anus, of course) at the conclusion of 'Clerks', Takashi is soon put in his place by those around him, realising that the ones he loves can no longer bring themselves to see him in such a funk; crushed alcohol cans following him wherever he goes.

Director Osaki stated that the film was 'about 60% autobiographical' when he appeared at the UK Premiere, dressed in a yukata and hat. He then subsequently went on to reveal how much of the film is similar to his own life: Osaki, from Gunma, directed one film previously a decade ago, sharing his writing with a close friend, with a family member that suffered from cancer. 'Obon Brothers', as a result, doesn't simply fit in a genre such as a comedy, but is more a piece of realism.

The black and white take any 'movie gloss' off the film, with long takes of harsh and honest dialogue. Everyone around Takashi's lives, no matter how seemingly bad, take better shape than the healthy and 'successful' life he believes he can return to. There are not too many huge revelations here, or happy endings like in the movies; but more the need to get on with life rather than living in the past. 'Obon Brothers' is a comedy in the sense that life is a funny ol' game.

Raindance Film Festival 2015: Fires on the Plain

At the less-than-half-full UK Premiere of Shinya Tsukamoto's 'Fires on the Plain' at London's 2015 Raindance Film Festival, the question seemingly everyone wanted to ask was: 'In light of recent changes to the Japanese constitution, what message did you want this film to say about war?' A question he pretty much answered - via an interpreter - as 'war is Hell.'

For me, you don't so much watch a Tsukamoto film as experience it. His 2014 adaptation / remake of Ooka Shohei's / Ichikawa Kon's book / film of the same name certainly fits that statement. He stated he wanted this film to remind people that war is not a positive thing; something he feels has been lost among the new generations of Japanese. With this film, he certainly sets some reminders.

A nameless solider, suffering from TB, is sent to see the medic during Japan's fighting in the Philippines. deemed not unwell enough to be there, he is subsequently sent back and forth between his base and the medical base, seemingly unwanted by either. The medical base destroyed by fire from above, he is left to wander aimlessly around the jungles and field of the Philippines, surviving as best he can.

Tsukamoto claims that he is faithful to the original novel, depicting the natural beauty of the Philippines against the violent, graphic and intense scenes of war; perhaps hinting at some sort of stupidity of war. Well, I've not read the book, or even seen the original film, so I can speak with great authority about this. However, there is a definite contrast between serenity and the frantic Hell of war, which Tsukamoto balances nicely.

As with all his films, there is quick, frantic camera work and intense acting to create a similar emotion in the viewer. However, as with his other films, there is always that feeling that it's on the edge of being comical/annoying in its frequency. War films always get a bit repetitive for me and are never the easiest viewing, and 'Fires on the Plain' is probably that. His previous films just about get the balance right by being entertaining in their urban settings. However, here perhaps the intensity gets a bit too much after a while, relieved only by shots of Filipino landscapes.

'Fires on the Plain' is not Tsukamoto's best work, though probably isn't his worst either. It is stapled all over with his standards of good cinematography, hand-held camera work and making use of a limited budget in an imaginative way. Maybe a larger budget would  have allowed him to do more and make a better film, maybe not. But one thing is definite: Tsukamoto is a clear master of creating some intense cinema, that'll leave you sitting un-comfortably (Garth Marenghi).

Every 14 Days...(28)

The Bluest Eye (Toni Morrison)

My introduction to Toni Morrison's first novel, 'The Bluest Eye', was via the unlikely source of the liner notes of hip hop album. But hip hop ain't all ig'nant sheeeeet, with the more thoughtful 'Mos Def and Talib Kweli are Black Star' album featuring the track 'Thieves in the Night', with its hock borrowing heavily from one of the novel's closing passages.

I first read this as a suitably foolish twenty-one-year-old, largely in Newcastle's Heaton Park, and probably then I didn't quite grasp the power of the book. So now, reading it a decade later, did it register a little more?

The answer is yes. As a woman narrates, reminiscing on her childhood in 1940s America, the book explores race, the concept of beauty and the evils of modern communities when looking down on those they deem below them.

The story is fractured, splitting between the narrator's story, the past events that worked towards creating that time and a picture of an 'ideal' family. As the story continues, earlier passages become more powerful as their meaning becomes more and more clear.

Despite her own criticism of the work, it is elegantly written, reading with a flow that could inspire any hip hop, worth every moment of its second listen.

Days to read: 12

Days per book: 14.8

Robin Ince's Bad Book Club (Robin Ince)

When it comes to films, it's not the awful, 1-star films that should never have been made, it's those non-descript, neither good nor terrible, unmemorable, mind-numbingly average films that should never have been made. Most films starring Vince Vaughn, perhaps. If you know something isn't going to be a critical success, you may as well make it awful; it's more purposeful that way.

When it comes to books, in comes Robin Ince. Beautifully angry Ince had toured his 'Bad Book Club', reading aloud on stage from those books that should never been written - but deliciously, that is the very reason why they should exist. Setting himself the task of only reading books purchased second hand from charity shops and second hand bookshops while bored on tour for a price of under £3, this book - which category it fits in, you decide - is a summary of some of his favourite awful books.

Split into sections, Ince forces his way through biographies, Mills & Boon, thrillers, self-help guides, horror, religion, journalist collections and more, all finding themselves deemed necessarily awful. Quoting passages, there are moments of hysterics as you question why anyone would ever want to read it, or indeed ever sit down to write it.

So much terrible material can, of course, drag a little when reading, and there are moments when the reader can find themselves drifting in and out of concentration. Though you have to commend Ince's dedication to unearthing pure nuggets of fake gold descriptions of women's breasts, painful Syd Little anecdotes and the dietary requirements of Jesus. 

We'd all like to think that we're intelligent consumers of high art that many cannot understand, but there is something wonderful about the completely awful and what it tells us about humanity.

Toilet book? It certainly is full of shit.

Days to read: 18

Days per book: 14.8

Hear the Wind Sing / Pinball, 1973 (Haruki Murakami)

I'd already read all of Murakami's books, by which I mean, of course, I hadn't - I'd read all of his books that someone had bothered to translate into English. I'd seen academic English translations of his first two novellas, though being academic texts, they cost more than any student could afford, so I thought better of it.

But now, given his popularity in the West, someone has finally bothered to mass produce translated versions of his works he wrote while a Tokyo jazz bar owner - because no one really wants to read anything by a Japanese amateur unless they go on to have two and a half decade's worth of success.

So, what of these first two works by the young amateur? Well, not a huge amount really; very much what you'd expect from a young amateur. These are essentially two stories around the same characters at two points in time. Little really happens other than drinking in bars, buying records and playing pinball. You wouldn't be missing a great deal if these were never translated.

What you do get, however, is a sense of his style developing that he has maintained throughout his whole career. The characters are young - sometimes students - men unsure of their direction in life, spending their days in bars and beds, all to the accompaniment of specific music descriptions. The switching between narratives he most famously used in 'Kafka on the Shore' is also present in an early form.

Probably one (of two) more for the hardcore fans this. I can now actually say I have read all of his works, though I probably haven't learnt a great deal more as a result, apart from his introduction giving a little more detail as to why he first started writing: baseball is the answer we all knew it would be.

Hear the Wind Sing

Days to read: 6

Days per book: 14.8

Pinball, 1973

Days to read: 7

Days per book: 14.7

Every 14 Days...(27)

The Hungarian Girl Trap (Ray Dexter)

I thought it best to read this book just after I'd married a Hungarian...

***SPOILER ALERT***

This was part of a genius book  double Christmas present for my wife-to-be last year. Along with the Hungarian language version of Tony Parson's 'My Favourite Wife', I decided 'The Hungarian Girl Trap' - Ray Dexter's diary of his year living in Budapest, having followed his Hungarian wife-to-be, working as an English teacher - was quite literally the most hilarious present I could buy.

Is it? Well, as an account of a year living in Hungary, it is a funny read - more so if you are actually Hungarian / have lived in Hungary, as my now-wife displayed, often eager to read me passages. Dexter ends up in working for an English language school in Budapest for the international children of paying parents. Employed on the promise of being a science teacher, under the guidance of his incompetent Head Teacher he ends up teaching each and every subject under the sun, while he and his fellow international teachers grow increasingly frustrated and unpaid.

A lot of the book focuses on his employment and its lack of good management, which can grow a little repetitive at times, though outside of work, the book probably gives me some insight into some aspects of life I may have to get used to. There is drinking, bad English, drinking, worse Hungarian, drinking, football watching, drinking, wedding traditions, drinking, eating, eating, eating...It's at this point I exaggerate. Though this book is laced with geographical and historical facts about Hungary and how these have been ever changing.

This book probably has a limited appeal, largely aimed at English men marrying Hungarian women...and their Hungarian brides. The publication shows this, lacking the proof-reading of a bigger publishing house release, full of mistakes throughout...or maybe this is a parody of Hungarian work ethic, which Dexter refers to throughout.

This book does what it says on the back of the book. If you are from neither one of the parties involved, it may not appeal too much to your interests. But if you are, it could prove a very important read. 

Days to read: 20

Days per book: 14.9

An Artist of the Floating World (Kazuo Ishiguro)

I've known of Ishiguro for some time, but I always forget what his name is and so never got around to reading any of his works. But with the recent release of his latest novel, 'The Buried Giant', I thought what better place to start than with his second book.

Ono is an aging artist in post-war Japan. Now, he lives with his younger daughter in his large house that he acquired before the war. His elder daughter visits with his grandson and discussions of the younger daughter's wedding negotiations begin. But the more the negotiations develop and the more his daughters speak, the more Ono reflects on his past, meditating on his development as an artist before the war and how he no longer is sure of the life he previously led.

From an artist of ukiyo-e, he gradually finds himself creating work to be used for nationalist propaganda. His discussions with the youth of post-war Japan show changing attitudes and moral questioning of the life he had previously led. Ono becomes torn between justifying what he did as for the good of the country in difficult times and a sense of guilt he feels when thinking about some of the characters of his past.   

The book is slow and diverges at any given moment, as the old man meditates on his life, trying to find answers in his decreasing memory; though if he can't remember the exact details, he will come to the conclusion that he was probably correct.

Days to read: 13

Days per book: 14.9

A Pale View of Hills (Kazuo Ishiguro)

Keeping it post-modern (or foolish, whichever you prefer), I next decided to read Ishiguro's first book, 'A Pale View of Hills', and started to notice something of a theme emerging. Like the book that came after it, it features a single, middle-aged Japanese with two daughters reflecting on their younger days, with a somewhat dark undercurrent.

In 'A Pale View of Hills', Etsuko, now living in rural England having left her native Nagasaki, has recently lost her eldest daughter, Keiko, to suicide. Her younger daughter, Niki, visits her from London, with seemingly nothing better to do with her days. It is at this point when Etsuko starts to recall an old friend in Nagasaki, Sachiko and her daughter Mariko. Sachiko plans to take her daughter to America to escape post-war Nagasaki, much to Etsuko's doubt and Mariko's protest. The more the story develops, the more Sachiko's life appears to reflect Etsuko's later life, with her own daughter failing to settle in England and taking her own life.

Through the act of reminiscing, Ishiguro leaves lots of gaps in the story and things never fully explained, such as Etsuko's re-marriage and moving to England, perhaps a deliberate ploy to make Sachiko and Etsuko's lives blur more into one. While the narrator's remembrance of their own past also features in 'An Artist of the Floating World', there the aging protagonist often refers to how he is perhaps remembering things inaccurately. But here it seems that Etsuko is remembering the past as she would like it to be. Perhaps a classic 'I've got this friend...' hiding of her own acts or displacing of her own guilt for her daughter's demise.  

Either way, Ishiguro plays on the nature of how we create our own realities through memory and interpretation of what we see, much like Akutagawa with 'In a Grove.'

I've read that 'Remains of the Day' is essentially 'An Artist of the Floating World' in another country, so I won't bother reading that then. I wouldn't want to remember it wrong...

Days to read: 13

Days per book: 14.9

The Psychopath Test (Jon Ronson)

There are two main reasons why I bought this book:

a) From not really knowing who Jon Ronson was, I recently listened to the RHLSTP (RHLSTP) he featured on and learnt that he is the writer of 'The Men Who Stare at Goats'...a film I've never seen.

b) It was £2.99 at Camden Lock Books at Old Street Station.

And I'm glad of these two reasons. On the RHLSTP (RHLSTP) he came across as a man with an interesting story to tell; a bit like Louie Theroux, only Welsh. 'The Psychopath Test' confirms this.

No, I wasn't reading this because I'm recently married (tee-hee); in fact I had no expectations on starting it. But as I progressed, it developed into a very interesting read, starting from his being contacted by a Neurologist who had been sent a strange book. From there, he begins to investigate its possible source, soon finding himself drawn into the definition of a psychopath: something not so much resulting from trauma, but more a trait borne in the individual.

He soon learns of the 'psychopath test': a checklist by which to identify psychopaths, learning it from its creator. A fully-formed psychopath identifier, he goes out in search of meeting those that could be identified as such.

The book is nicely written, with Ronson an anxious journeyman in the world of madness, with revelations well-paced throughout the book, striking when emerging from his objective standpoint. Theories of a world run by psychopaths are thought-provoking, and Ronson acknowledges the good and bad points of the psychopath test and those that use it.

Days to read: 11

Days per book: 14.8

Hustlers Convention

'Oooh, baby I like it raw.'

-Sushi bar customer

With a lot of things, I usually find the original is my preferred choice. Despite more polished and better produced follow ups often appearing in the music and comedy industries, I tend to favour the rougher, more erratic and raw feel of their predecessors, where ideas are more fresh and awakening.

So, you ask, what is the original rap album? Many would point to the likes of Gil Scott Heron and the Last Poets as possible contenders, quite rightly so. But with Heron switching between poetry to drums and soul tracks, his maybe can't be considered as 'rap' albums. And The Last Poets clearly laid foundations with their spoken word raps over drums.

But, under the sort of pseudonym you would expect of a modern rapper, with raps that flowed in rhythm to the music of Kool and the Gang, it was Last Poet member, Jalaluddin Mansur Nuriddin as Lightnin' Rod, with the concept album 'Hustlers Convention', that can perhaps truly be called the raw original. And this is the answer that filmmaker Mike Todd has come to with his documentary of the same name.

Telling the story of prison story toasting and its influence on popular culture styles of the Sixties and early Seventies, 'Hustlers Convention' (the documentary) uses interviews with various poets of the era to show its development into early forms of rap music. Throughout these interviews, animated sequences visualise the story of 'Hustlers Convention' (the album) , throwing in interviews with rappers KRS-One, Chuck D, Melle Mel Ice-T and MC Lyte discussing their memories of the album and the influence it had on them and an entire culture. There is then talk of the album's making and interviews with Nuriddin, rapping about life, the universe and everything, before British poets that have worked with him telling their tales.

'Hustlers Convention' (the documentary) shuns a linear narrative, mixing different periods in time throughout, with different parts of the story flowing likes rivers in parallel towards the film's conclusion. This means it never gets too tiresome, labouring a single point, keeping the rhythm flowing, in what is a reasonably timed ninety-plus minutes. The different generations and backgrounds of those involved also shed different lights and perspectives, making it far from one dimensional.

While the animated accompaniment to the songs could draw comparisons with 'Searching for Sugar Man', the similarities can be stopped there, with Nuriddin involved throughout and happy to talk about his life, rather than being made into a mythical, mystery man. Though maybe this is what 'Hustlers Convention' (the documentary) lacks: a hook.

'Hustlers Convention' (the album) is made out to be the sort of album that everybody knows, yet nobody knows; the most copied album in history, that nobody's ever heard of. But not enough is perhaps made of this irony. With Kool and the Gang signed to a different label than that of the release of 'Hustlers Convention' (the album), the album was quickly pulled, with few copies officially sold, leaving little fortune or fame for the man where it all began. In the words of the album's final track 'Sentenced to the Chair': 'The real hustlers who were ripping off billions from the unsuspecting millions who are programmed to think they could win.'

But maybe the fact that this isn't dwelt on too much is again a strength. Nurridin himself, now in his seventies, doesn't sound too bitter about this fact, performing the album at London's Jazz Cafe at the film's climax, knowing that his words will have influence for generations to come, and maybe 'Hustlers Convention' (the documentary) can claim its part in furthering this.

'Raw I'ma give it to ya, with no trivia...'

Every 14 Days...(26)

Mostly Brilliant (Douglas Adams)

Step three in my mission to make my way through all incarnations of 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' in no particular order - which is probably a way it's expected to be done.

Growing up, I watched the Eighties BBC TV series a number of times on good ol' VHS; and subsequently I have ventured to the cinema to watch the more modern film version which, despite having Tim from 'The Office' in it, doesn't exactly enhance the series. Though now, despite the fact the radio show came first, I have now attempted to read the five-part-trilogy of novels that were based on it.

Now, I don't particularly do sci-fi. I like 'Red Dwarf' (up to Series Six only, of course - I'm not peculiar) and have read a couple of the spin-off books. I've also watched some films. But largely, it's not my bag (that's my bag over there, could you pass it to me please?).

So, having enjoyed one incarnation, and not so much enjoyed a second incarnation, would I enjoy this next attempt? In a word: mostly yes.

Largely, to start, it is quite faithful to the TV series script, which is (apparently) faithful to the radio series script, though the first two books came before the TV series anyway, so it's all the same thing either heard, read or viewed. And this I like, reeling the Peter Jones narration in my head as I read.

As my dad has told me, the TV series (and subsequently the film) only go so far in the overall story, with the radio series going much further. So, about halfway through the trilogy of five, I suddenly have no knowledge of what is going to happen and can't read in my memory of the TV series script. This makes it just like reading normal books, having to read the words to know what happens. I mean, really?!

The books are sharp, witty and cleverly make you look at humanity from an outsider's point of view, which can leave you feeling a little depressed. Overall, the story starts off strong, though as the books progress - and maybe this is the blinkered by television me writing - the story can become more outlandish (literally) and asks quite a lot of the imagination of the reader, which the non-sci-fi-loving me probably doesn't have. For me, after a while the story goes a bit too far, maybe a downside of reading the books consecutively without a break from the madness. Maybe a reason the TV series only took the story so far - or was that more due to time and budget constraints?

Despite the wit and charm throughout, perhaps the reason why I don't really read sci-fi or fantasy (apart from that I've kissed a girl) is that with so many 'made-up' names and places, my mind quickly fails to take in these words that have no meaning outside of the book and once they are raised later in the book, I've already forgotten them. Perhaps this is why I'm so bad at learning languages, or I just lack imagination, ruined and cynical from having seen 'Never Mind the Buzzcocks'.

But I'm being negative here, when I should be looking for its Buddha side. 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' is an excellent lampooning of humanity and how insignificant we probably all are in the grand scheme of things (not being negative here). In a word, it's mostly brilliant.

...

Cleverly, I read the books in paper form, avoiding the vision of the future 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' creates in which everybody uses a tablet device in which to get all their knowledge of the known universe...

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Days to read: 12

Days per book: 14.9

The Restaurant at the End of the Universe

Days to read: 12

Days per book: 14.9

Life, the Universe and Everything

Days to read: 13

Days per book: 14.8

So Long, and Thanks for all the Fish

Days to read: 14

Days per book: 14.8

Mostly Harmless

Days to read: 25

Days per book: 14.9