Today the world woke up to the fact that however good Polish workers are, you wouldn’t want to employ one to fix your roof. This afternoon, England managed yet another lacklustre performance and gained a draw against Poland. However, the real highlight of the football coverage came yesterday, watching ITV’s commentary team, lead by Adrian Chiles, desperately trying to fill two and a half hours, sitting in a studio watching it raining outside. The highlight was Chiles’s genuine query to the rest of the team, “What’s the difference between heavy rain and a downpour?” It gave a whole new meaning to the word “inane”. Sadly, we were not treated to any great insight or wisdom on this matter either, which just goes to prove that men really can’t talk about anything other than football. Although it has to be said that a group of men employed to commentate on an international football match probably do represent the pinnacle of male development, so it’s hardly surprising that something as complex as the weather might elude them. I also enjoyed FIFAs attempts to entertain the crowd with its throw-back to the golden age of silent cinema; watching the referee regularly come out with a ball and then randomly throw it into the air and watch it land with a splash without bouncing, was a wonderful pastiche of the early greats, such as Charlie Chaplin Harold Lloyd and Buster Keaton. It was raining, the pitch was clearly getting more and more waterlogged, what did he expect to happen? (If he was an astronaut he’d be the one to go outside and take off his helmet, just to check that there really wasn’t any air there.) Not a smile did he flash either, not even for a moment; I couldn’t tell if he was totally raging inside at the futility of what he was being told to do, in front of millions of people, and getting soaked doing it, or he really was taking it very seriously. Jeez, he needs to lighten up a bit. He had all the demeanour of a detective investing a serious crime scene; which considering the nonsense with the automatically closing roof that they didn’t close, he sort of was. This film also features a number of serious crime scenes.
1997 – Certificate: 18 – USA
Rating Details: Strong Bloody Violence
Try as I might, I just can’t work up any real enthusiasm for this film. I feel it ought to be a lot better than it is, which just added to my disappointment. There’s nothing really wrong with it, but nothing really right with it either. It just kind of exists because “Scream” exists, a bit like the relationship between dead leaves in autumn and trees. It’s not really very scary, it’s not really very funny, it’s not really very gory and it’s not really very hip. It doesn’t help that I get “Scream” and “Scary Movie” mixed up in my head, so in my mind it’s become a sort of inoffensive Frankenstein film made up of several others; (let’s not forget the two further sequels to “Scream” and the three sequels to “Scary Movie”. That’s eight nearly identical films, so it’s no wonder I’m confused. Watching it felt like one of things you just have to do from time to time, not something to get worked up about or anything, but just something you do and not give much thought to, like going to the toilet I guess. What I did hate was that it was non-anamorphic, so with its widescreen aspect ratio I ended up watching a picture the size and shape of an enlarged match, without a head. God, I can’t be bothered with anymore thinking about this film right now.
Recommended for people who saw Scream, I guess.
No cats, decapitations or chainsaws.
Top badass moment? Whatever. It might as well be Cotton Weary finally getting what he wanted (greedy asshole) and becoming a sort of hero(ish). That’s badass(ish).
Cactus World doesn’t have its own football team, so the population is forced to support England. This has a couple of drawbacks. For a start, England never actually wins anything. (Well that’s not strictly true I know and I was in fact alive when England last won anything, the World Cup in 1966, not that I remember this directly.) This makes for an ultimately depressing experience. Even if it did win something we’d find a good reason to trash the whole adventure and ensure that no one got any credit for the achievement. Secondly, on the odd occasion England win any individual matches, they do so in such a stress-inducing way that it’s been medically proved that it takes three months off the expected life-span of anyone unfortunate enough to witness the event. It’s only a matter of time before the England Football Team has to carry a big health warning on its strip, like cigarettes. Last night’s 3-2 win against Sweden is proof of this. When I watch England I have to drink a bottle of strong cider each time it scores a goal, (plus one to start with to prevent, ahem, dehydration); however, drunkenness is rarely a problem. I like to consider this not as a soft drugs problem, but more as a prescription, a medical thing, to help me deal with big-match stress issues. (Being made of apples, each bottle of cider also provides me with one of my five-a-day portions of fruit and vegetables, which makes it doubly good.)
2010 – Certificate: 18 – USA
Rating Details: Strong sex and sexualised nudity and frequent drug use
There are so many things to hate and despise about this film. I scarcely know where to start listing them. However, it’s also far funnier and better than it sounds like it ought to be. A group of young guys decide to ‘help’ one of their number, Matt, to lose his virginity and to put all the ‘action’ up on YouTube. I did genuinely feel sorry for Matt, even though he was a bit of a twat; but somehow he was a sympathetic enough character that I found myself on his side. In fact, for all their unpleasant traits, most of the characters in this movie are really quite likable, most of the time anyway. The relationships between them and their reactions to what happens feel very natural and help to offset the rest of the nonsense going on. The music works well in the film too, as does the documentary feel.
Recommended for people who aren’t going to get offended by, well, everything in the movie really.
No cats and no decapitations.
Top badass moment? Matt’s friends collecting money so they can pay his favourite porn star, Sunny Leone (who’s a real porn actress and plays herself in the film), to have sex with him. How sweet. True friends like that are hard to come by and are therefore badass.
(Read the following in a Hollywood movie trailer voiceover voice; you’ll get a lot more out of it if you do.)
This Summer, no one is safe, as danger, famine and heartbreak threaten Cactus World. This time it’s personal…
(Okay, you can stop the stupid ‘voice in my head’ now.)
2) No gigs for six weeks, due to the World Cup. (Seriously, I had bad withdrawal symptoms; I was in physical pain).
3) No rain and lovely sunny weather. (Nice!)
4) Big Brother on TV. (Yes I watch it, what you’re gonna do about it then?)
5) Watching the whole of Andromeda on DVD, part way through Season 4 now. (Great, massively underrated TV series, except the first half of Season 3 which is, quite frankly, pants.)
6) A new electric toothbrush. (Never mind removing plaque it’s my whole head I’m more worried about, it’s like trying to brush my teeth with a Lightsaber on speed. It takes two hands to tame its awesome power.)
7) Spending my entire month’s salary in under two days (and over half my £200 overdraft too.)
8) Buying the entire back catalogue of Doctor Who on DVD over the past couple of months, including Torchwood and the Sarah Jane Adventures, plus all the lost episodes on CD. (Well it was part of my childhood.)
9) Realising that 7 and 8 above have more than a little in common. (I’m so irresponsible with money, so it’s lucky I never seem to have much for long.)
But never mind all that, instead celebrate Doctor Who with me with the wonderful “Doctor Who” by Parry Gripp.
Right now I’m listening to “Popcorn” by Hot Butter.