The theatre. It's been a fair while since I've been. I think the last thing I saw was a performance of James and the Giant Peach (minus Joanna Lumley, plus a cockney centipede with a boot fetish), which was performed at the Sundial Theatre, which just so happens to be in my college. Now I've always loved the theatre, but I've generally orientated towards either comedies or I've been taken to pantomimes as a child, but last night changed everything.
I went to see Oedipus, a Greek tragedy which most people will know the story of (boy is abandoned, unwittingly kills father, unknowingly marries mother, bears weird mutant tomato children*, discovers the truth, gouges eyes out to prove a point), but even so, this sort of performance is THE reason why film and television will never reach the level of meaning and depth as the stage, even with all this new-fangled 3D technology.
In a bid to promote my friends' certain future careers, I strongly urge you if you can to go and see the show tonight (Wednesday 26th Jan 2011) or tomorrow (you work the date out). Hell, if you're a full-time student, it'll only cost you four hundred of your new English pence, and let me tell you that it is easily worth that, and then some.
To Alice and Alex, you've restored my faith in the performing arts, which certain people (McCallum, Calder, my office, now) had all but destroyed. Sod your ridiculous horror films made by hapless retards who don't know what an 18k light is (yeah) and get your arse down to see some proper performing. Be moved to tears by fleeting actions such as suicide or self-blinding and watch Oedipus at the Sundial Theatre tonight or tomorrow. It's in Cirencester College, performed by students who express more skill in a wobbly bottom lip than most of the filth people call 'actors' on these snazzy, new, modern programmes have in their entire repertoire of shouting "g'day, mate, I'm in Neeeeeighbours" in high pitched voices. It's not often you see a show where the chorus who have seen the show ninety-nine times before are blubbing as Oedipus holds his beloved daughters/cursed sisters for the final time now, is it?
*I wasn't joking
26 January 2011
23 January 2011
The Best of... The Nineties
I have an opinion. I know, it's controversial for me to express myself in such a way, but just bear with me and all will be explained.
There have been many periods of time, the sixties and nineties to name a couple, but for all three of the decades that I've sampled (and you have no idea how old that makes me feel), the latter tops my charts any day of the week. Were it not for those glorious ten years, not only would I not be around, but neither would many of my nearest and dearest. Having said that, the only competition it faces is the nouts (I refuse to call it the noughties), and our current decade, currently without a title, so I have taken the liberty of giving it one. As our third millennia races towards adolescence, I have lovingly coined the time 'the pubies'. With the pubies barely starting to grow, and the nouts being the age of imbalanced hormones for myself, they don't really have much going for them.
In honour of these fine ten years, I have decided to share with you (you lucky, lucky person) a completely objective view of the very best of the nineties. So turn your baseball cap around, plug in your VCR and pour yourself a glass of Sunny Delight. You're in for a mildly thrilling ride.
Sooty
Sooty is the stuff of legend, a small yellow bear with a heart the size of the moon, albeit with a little mischief buried in his psyche. Anyone who hasn't been blessed with any knowledge of this little bundle of joy quite simply has not lived, and should type his name into YouTube immediately.
Sooty is the longest running children's television character, and coupled with his friends Sweep the dog, Soo the Panda and every so often his pesky little cousin Scampi, he has managed to find a place in the hearts of every self-respecting human in Britain.
Although he was not the first to don the puppet, Matthew Corbett will always be the man I associate with this charming array of characters. His warm, loving exterior and the mind and heart of a true parent made him an unforgettable asset to Sooty and his crew. His father, Harry Corbett, designed the toy to entertain Matthew when he was only a child, little did he know that his creation would be remembered for generations upon generations to come.
More recently, Sooty has adopted a much more modern approach, and now without a television show, he appears only on stage with new mentors and characters by his side. The new ones are simply not the same, unfortunately, but nevertheless, Sooty lives on, and will be available on tape for many, many years to come.
The Neverhood
An underrated gem of a computer game, The Neverhood was released in 1996. I'm including it on here as a bit of a cheat, as I never actually played the full version of the game until a few years ago, but believe me when I tell you that I had the demo on a disc when I was seven. Anybody who wants to argue, take it up with my parents for not conceiving me sooner.
Back on topic, the game itself is a point-and-click adventure with fairly standard gameplay, and nothing exactly to write home about. The reason this game is what it is is quite simply the humour and visuals are unmatched by anything I've played since. Ok, there are funnier games and games that will have better graphics, but the simple fact is that no other game to date (that I know of) has been so adventurous as to make an entire game using stop-motion and claymation for it's graphics. The sheer charm of the design is more than enough to sell the game, but the comic elements make the cut-scenes something historical. Who doesn't want to see a man made of clay running from an insect-like monster twice his size, scream like a girl and run into a closed door?*
The game didn't sell very well unfortunately, and the only real way you can find it these days is the bastion of everything out of date, eBay. If you're looking for a laugh though, you won't find anything more likely to perk you up on Windows 95 than this. Speaking of Windows 95...
Windows 95 and the Birth of the Internet
Anyone who owned a computer with 95 running as the operating system will know all too well of the words "It is now safe to turn off your computer", but whether they'll be emblazoned on your retinas like me is unlikely. A computer that can't turn itself off would be complete madness today, but yes, they existed, and they had a whole load of loveable crap on them as well.
Running with only 256 colours, old computers could barely display anything without having to use interlaced dots to show colour mixes, but we loved them. Remember floppy discs? Happy days...
The internet was also just appearing, allowing us to have dial-up connections to the entire world of human knowledge (or as it was back then, Encarta). Ashamedly, I can still hum the sound my phoneline as it struggled to make contact with the outside world.
Pokémon
What sort of a man would I be if I didn't mention the very fabric that I was raised on? Pokémon revolutionised our lives with 151 quirky Japanese critters that didn't mind fighting on command and having their molecular structure disassembled so they could fit in our Pokéballs. That sounds a bit unsanitary now I look at it again; perhaps the creator was a bit frustrated and lonely.
Pokémon Red and Blue versions were released in 1996 on the most amicable of consoles, the Gameboy, and was the biggest boom the video game industry has ever seen. Anyone who was anyone had at least one of the versions, if not both, and don't even get me started on how many of the trading cards I bought (and still own).
Pikachu was the face, of course, and no matter what anyone did, he always seemed to come back to us. Even my friend who lost his Pocket Pikachu at school managed to find it again years later, and it worked to boot. It seems that no matter how many new and shiny (pun intended) Pokémon they make, Pikachu will always be the one everyone knows.
Pogs
Here's a slap in the face with some hot, throbbing nostalgia. Those little discs brought us all so much glee, and best of all, to get them you had to eat crisps. Joy!
These funny little pieces of card (or plastic, I can never remember) were so popular and fun to play with, yet unbelievable simple. For memory, you had to make a pile of pogs, and somehow hit them with a 'slammer' and do something. The person who knew the rules or had the strongest left hook won.
I don't think anybody really knew how to play, it was just something to do whenever you were bored in the playground, I mean heaven forbid that we play with a pack of cards, that would encourage gambling and ruin our futures forever.
The Full Monty
Ok, so I wasn't exactly 15 to watch it when it came out, but a little insignificant detail like that wouldn't stop me. Or my dad. Known as one of the greatest British comedy films of all time, and quite simply, I would say that a title like that doesn't do it justice.
Set just down't road in modern Yorkshire, it tells the tales of six unemployed steel workers looking to make some quick money so that they can see clear of their pressing problems, be it child maintenance, debt, or just being a fat bastard. We're treated to some absolutely stellar acting by Robert Carlyle (as to be expected), along with some of the most hilariously awkward and clumsy stripping you'll ever see, including Carlyle's character Gaz trying to take a t-shirt off with a lit cigarette in his mouth.
This heartwarming tale of six desperate men paints a picture of modern British determination and the importance of sticking by your mates, so if you haven't seen it, you can probably get it from Amazon for the latter half of a fiver. Do it. Do it now.
*Go on then
There have been many periods of time, the sixties and nineties to name a couple, but for all three of the decades that I've sampled (and you have no idea how old that makes me feel), the latter tops my charts any day of the week. Were it not for those glorious ten years, not only would I not be around, but neither would many of my nearest and dearest. Having said that, the only competition it faces is the nouts (I refuse to call it the noughties), and our current decade, currently without a title, so I have taken the liberty of giving it one. As our third millennia races towards adolescence, I have lovingly coined the time 'the pubies'. With the pubies barely starting to grow, and the nouts being the age of imbalanced hormones for myself, they don't really have much going for them.
In honour of these fine ten years, I have decided to share with you (you lucky, lucky person) a completely objective view of the very best of the nineties. So turn your baseball cap around, plug in your VCR and pour yourself a glass of Sunny Delight. You're in for a mildly thrilling ride.
Sooty
Sooty is the stuff of legend, a small yellow bear with a heart the size of the moon, albeit with a little mischief buried in his psyche. Anyone who hasn't been blessed with any knowledge of this little bundle of joy quite simply has not lived, and should type his name into YouTube immediately.
Sooty is the longest running children's television character, and coupled with his friends Sweep the dog, Soo the Panda and every so often his pesky little cousin Scampi, he has managed to find a place in the hearts of every self-respecting human in Britain.
Although he was not the first to don the puppet, Matthew Corbett will always be the man I associate with this charming array of characters. His warm, loving exterior and the mind and heart of a true parent made him an unforgettable asset to Sooty and his crew. His father, Harry Corbett, designed the toy to entertain Matthew when he was only a child, little did he know that his creation would be remembered for generations upon generations to come.
More recently, Sooty has adopted a much more modern approach, and now without a television show, he appears only on stage with new mentors and characters by his side. The new ones are simply not the same, unfortunately, but nevertheless, Sooty lives on, and will be available on tape for many, many years to come.
The Neverhood
An underrated gem of a computer game, The Neverhood was released in 1996. I'm including it on here as a bit of a cheat, as I never actually played the full version of the game until a few years ago, but believe me when I tell you that I had the demo on a disc when I was seven. Anybody who wants to argue, take it up with my parents for not conceiving me sooner.
Back on topic, the game itself is a point-and-click adventure with fairly standard gameplay, and nothing exactly to write home about. The reason this game is what it is is quite simply the humour and visuals are unmatched by anything I've played since. Ok, there are funnier games and games that will have better graphics, but the simple fact is that no other game to date (that I know of) has been so adventurous as to make an entire game using stop-motion and claymation for it's graphics. The sheer charm of the design is more than enough to sell the game, but the comic elements make the cut-scenes something historical. Who doesn't want to see a man made of clay running from an insect-like monster twice his size, scream like a girl and run into a closed door?*
The game didn't sell very well unfortunately, and the only real way you can find it these days is the bastion of everything out of date, eBay. If you're looking for a laugh though, you won't find anything more likely to perk you up on Windows 95 than this. Speaking of Windows 95...
Windows 95 and the Birth of the Internet
Anyone who owned a computer with 95 running as the operating system will know all too well of the words "It is now safe to turn off your computer", but whether they'll be emblazoned on your retinas like me is unlikely. A computer that can't turn itself off would be complete madness today, but yes, they existed, and they had a whole load of loveable crap on them as well.
Running with only 256 colours, old computers could barely display anything without having to use interlaced dots to show colour mixes, but we loved them. Remember floppy discs? Happy days...
The internet was also just appearing, allowing us to have dial-up connections to the entire world of human knowledge (or as it was back then, Encarta). Ashamedly, I can still hum the sound my phoneline as it struggled to make contact with the outside world.
Pokémon
What sort of a man would I be if I didn't mention the very fabric that I was raised on? Pokémon revolutionised our lives with 151 quirky Japanese critters that didn't mind fighting on command and having their molecular structure disassembled so they could fit in our Pokéballs. That sounds a bit unsanitary now I look at it again; perhaps the creator was a bit frustrated and lonely.
Pokémon Red and Blue versions were released in 1996 on the most amicable of consoles, the Gameboy, and was the biggest boom the video game industry has ever seen. Anyone who was anyone had at least one of the versions, if not both, and don't even get me started on how many of the trading cards I bought (and still own).
Pikachu was the face, of course, and no matter what anyone did, he always seemed to come back to us. Even my friend who lost his Pocket Pikachu at school managed to find it again years later, and it worked to boot. It seems that no matter how many new and shiny (pun intended) Pokémon they make, Pikachu will always be the one everyone knows.
Pogs
Here's a slap in the face with some hot, throbbing nostalgia. Those little discs brought us all so much glee, and best of all, to get them you had to eat crisps. Joy!
These funny little pieces of card (or plastic, I can never remember) were so popular and fun to play with, yet unbelievable simple. For memory, you had to make a pile of pogs, and somehow hit them with a 'slammer' and do something. The person who knew the rules or had the strongest left hook won.
I don't think anybody really knew how to play, it was just something to do whenever you were bored in the playground, I mean heaven forbid that we play with a pack of cards, that would encourage gambling and ruin our futures forever.
The Full Monty
Ok, so I wasn't exactly 15 to watch it when it came out, but a little insignificant detail like that wouldn't stop me. Or my dad. Known as one of the greatest British comedy films of all time, and quite simply, I would say that a title like that doesn't do it justice.
Set just down't road in modern Yorkshire, it tells the tales of six unemployed steel workers looking to make some quick money so that they can see clear of their pressing problems, be it child maintenance, debt, or just being a fat bastard. We're treated to some absolutely stellar acting by Robert Carlyle (as to be expected), along with some of the most hilariously awkward and clumsy stripping you'll ever see, including Carlyle's character Gaz trying to take a t-shirt off with a lit cigarette in his mouth.
This heartwarming tale of six desperate men paints a picture of modern British determination and the importance of sticking by your mates, so if you haven't seen it, you can probably get it from Amazon for the latter half of a fiver. Do it. Do it now.
*Go on then
15 January 2011
Shiny Happy People
I'm not going to deny it, I am a consumer. I consume and consume and consume, especially if it's something I believe to be worth having, be it a rather lovely cut of pork, or even a lovely brand-spanking new piece of kit to make my blogging easier, I'm a sucker for quality. What I'm not a sucker for though, is tat. And there is oh so much tat out there.
Not too long ago I curtailed myself into the dreaded lands known as 'Poundland' in order to buy something, I believe my nose was running and I needed a tissue if my memory serves me correctly. As I wandered around aimlessly like a bemused child muses the power tools in their father's garage, I took a closer look at some electronic items that they had for sale. A headset and microphone, headphones by the number, and more memory card readers than I have teeth. Every single one of them was a pound.
How on Earth can you manage to produce a piece if hardware like that for such a ridiculous price? I see absolutely no logic behind it whatsoever, their turnover must be mere pennies per item sold or somehow less. Just why do you torture me with your cheap, ineffective goods like a £5 prossie every time I gather enough strength to enter you Poundland? I know deep down I will not be able to use any if this, but that price makes me want to grab several items just to see if they work, and if they don't to make a rudimentary rocket-propelled SD card launcher. Actually, that's not a bad idea... I digress, my point is that there are entire companies that seem to be able to sell such rubbish, and people buy it! Perhaps they have the same SD cannon visions as I have, but more likely they're in the habit of buying the cheapest solution to everything. Is that too cynical? Who knows. All I know is that this has to stop, and I'm waging war on crappy goods starting this day!
No longer will we have to suffer with toys of our favourite comic book characters crudely assembled by sweaty men in string vests only to be put i the wrong boxes so they get put in the 'My Little Pony' section by mistake. No, we will be free of those that lack quality, and our children will learn to respect everything we buy them and everything they buy themselves. All too often these days I see more and more young people going through Xboxes faster than Steve Jobs after a long, hard day of selling us sparkly pretty things that twinkle in the light o a 40w bulb, and that simply shouldn't be happening. I love my Xboxes, I really do, but they're simply not built to last. They make too much noise, the quality of the materials is below sub-underclass par, and promises to collapse inwards on itself if you happen to stand near it and cough. Something ness to be done.
Join me in the war against tat, buy something just a little bit classier than whatever happens to be in a blister pack amongst display-cased pieces of pure wonder, toss aside that happy meal and instead support a small local bakery and buy a bun that was lovingly hand-made only that morning. It doesn't take much.
Pull your finger out of your arse and get cracking.
Not too long ago I curtailed myself into the dreaded lands known as 'Poundland' in order to buy something, I believe my nose was running and I needed a tissue if my memory serves me correctly. As I wandered around aimlessly like a bemused child muses the power tools in their father's garage, I took a closer look at some electronic items that they had for sale. A headset and microphone, headphones by the number, and more memory card readers than I have teeth. Every single one of them was a pound.
How on Earth can you manage to produce a piece if hardware like that for such a ridiculous price? I see absolutely no logic behind it whatsoever, their turnover must be mere pennies per item sold or somehow less. Just why do you torture me with your cheap, ineffective goods like a £5 prossie every time I gather enough strength to enter you Poundland? I know deep down I will not be able to use any if this, but that price makes me want to grab several items just to see if they work, and if they don't to make a rudimentary rocket-propelled SD card launcher. Actually, that's not a bad idea... I digress, my point is that there are entire companies that seem to be able to sell such rubbish, and people buy it! Perhaps they have the same SD cannon visions as I have, but more likely they're in the habit of buying the cheapest solution to everything. Is that too cynical? Who knows. All I know is that this has to stop, and I'm waging war on crappy goods starting this day!
No longer will we have to suffer with toys of our favourite comic book characters crudely assembled by sweaty men in string vests only to be put i the wrong boxes so they get put in the 'My Little Pony' section by mistake. No, we will be free of those that lack quality, and our children will learn to respect everything we buy them and everything they buy themselves. All too often these days I see more and more young people going through Xboxes faster than Steve Jobs after a long, hard day of selling us sparkly pretty things that twinkle in the light o a 40w bulb, and that simply shouldn't be happening. I love my Xboxes, I really do, but they're simply not built to last. They make too much noise, the quality of the materials is below sub-underclass par, and promises to collapse inwards on itself if you happen to stand near it and cough. Something ness to be done.
Join me in the war against tat, buy something just a little bit classier than whatever happens to be in a blister pack amongst display-cased pieces of pure wonder, toss aside that happy meal and instead support a small local bakery and buy a bun that was lovingly hand-made only that morning. It doesn't take much.
Pull your finger out of your arse and get cracking.
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