Contains Spoilers

Festival Fun!

2011-10-17T20:19:00.001+01:00

Dark Horse (Todd Solondz, 2011)
Where: London Film Festival: Vue West End
When: 16th October 2011

I was looking forward to this film, but at the same time a little sad that I could not also go and see the 3D samurai movie in the screening downstairs. However, a dose of Todd has always worked wonders in the past. Back then in my awkward, space filling teenage years a dose of Todd was a good excuse to see how quickly I could get my step mum to not watch the film I was seeing, a small rebellion of sorts and plenty of harmless fun. So thank you Todd for those happy times with Welcome to the Dollhouse and Happiness, truly fun moments spent laughing at my family over and over again. So what did Dark Horse have in store for me?

I knew I was on to a winner from the credits, the blingy lettering for the titles, the reality TV talent show music, this was going to be my kind of comedy. The credits cut to a Jewish wedding complete with wall to wall drunken dancing until we reach our protagonists table. Our man Abe (Jordan Gelber) tries to chat up the woman sitting next to him Miranda (Selma Blair) (who we later find out is not much better off than Abe!), he tells her he doesn't dance (I know the feeling...) and then jumps straight in and asks her out. All that was missing was a small pop up Charlie Brooker doing his Hannah Montana impression, "Awkward", "Loser." We then cut to the end of the wedding and we see Abe pursing Miranda once more at the cloakroom and manages to extract her phone number from her using a mix of pity and persistence. We then see Abe drive away in his bright yellow Hummer, music blaring.

We learn more about Abe, maybe we wish we hadn't. His father has a real estate business and Abe works for him (well, work is a loose definition - it's more like sit at his desk and then storm off the second he's asked to do any work). Abe's life is surrounded by his possessions, his car, his action figures and his posters and he has Mum and Dad with him wherever he goes. At work and at home it is his actual father Jackie (played by the excellent as ever Christopher Walken). At work his mother is played by the secretary, Marie (Donna Murphy) who does Abe's work for him and is part of Abe's mixed up fantasy world. At home he plays and takes great pleasure in beating his real mother, Phyllis (Mia Farrow) at backgammon.

Moving on to Abe's first date with Miranda, again arranged with his own force of will and her inability to say no he drives off in his Hummer, music blaring as usual to her house. He arrives with a bunch petrol station flowers in his hand only to find Miranda's mother answers the door and has no knowledge of him arriving. Instead of cutting his losses and going home he sits in his car and waits, complete with awkward gesturing to Miranda's mother until Miranda shows up loaded up groceries with not the faintest idea that he was coming over. Miranda is set up well in the film so far. We are initially made to think of her as a normal and attractive woman that is going through a hard time in her life who lives with her parents till she gets back on her feet. However, we soon get the impression that she is much like Abe in many ways, especially when she tells Abe that she plans to stop being a writer and slitting her wrists and he asks for her hand in marriage despite them hardly knowing each other. If ever you're feeling a little off kilter with the rest of the world there's one easy question to ask yourself to see how bad it really is. Would I exist as a character in a Todd Solondz film? You just better hope the answer is not yes!

Once again time passes, it feels like it may have been months, in fact it is only a week and Miranda has agreed to meet with Abe at the family home. As Miranda doesn't drive she comes over with her parents and the adults have an enthralling conversation about the traffic and road works whilst the "kids" are talking together in the room. Miranda agrees to marry Abe as long as he doesn't mind about the hepatitis B (which Abe later looks up on You Tube) and her ex Mahmood from Dubai. Abe is pretty happy at this point. His ego fuelled by lust and diet coke gets into a fight with his father that any teenager would be proud of. Abe quits his job after being criticised for not doing his work on time, although he his soon back at work only to be fired by his father and replaced by his cousin who "does what he's told". The result is that Abe storms out of the office and drives off in his Hummer, tears in his eyes and rage in his heart.

We hear a crash and a screech of tires but Todd has a twist for us which is what helps make this a great film and not just an amusing story/commentary of the modern condition. The use of repetition, both visually and one lovely song that plays out help confuse our sense of time. We are not sure whether it is years, days or months that are passing us by. Additionally Abe likes to fantasise about an affair with the Mia the secretary and the life he imagines she leads. At times like this it feels like we are Abe and a little out of the loop, except perhaps during his trip to Toys R Us, but that one I wont spoil for you! We next find Abe in the hospital waking up after a few months in a coma. He says he feels like dancing, we know he's lost his legs. Miranda arrives and says she's been cured of her hepatitis and she's expecting a child. It's pretty obvious it is not Abe's child to everyone but Abe. Since being cured of her hepatitis Miranda has found a new lease of life, she is now dating Abe's successful brother Richard (Justin Bartha) who Abe detests and his cousin Justin (Zachery Booth) who has replaced him at work now has the affection of Marie. The next time we see Abe he's looking a rather yellow, "The chances of losing both legs in a car crash and contracting hepatitis are about a billion to one," he says.

Cruelty doesn't pass with Abe's passing. At his funeral he is humiliated when Richard tells his Father that the date of Abe's death is wrong. To which he replies that the detail is not important after Abe continually tells us throughout the film he has a thing for dates and numbers. As we draw to a close Abe returns to his house where he looks at the lines on the wall where he and Richard were measured growing up, peeling back the wallpaper he finds his Dad has written that he was the dark horse of the family and in death he realises that perhaps he was wrong about everything after all. We finish with our secretary day dreaming of the life Abe says he expected her to, ghastly wallpaper, music, stuffed animals and musicals, rather than the sex, fine art and Ferrari's we saw during the rest of the film.

Sadly it looks like Dark Horse may not get much of a release outside of the festival circuit which is a great shame as it is funny, topical and very well directed. It was funny like a top notch Coen Brothers comedy and also very accessable. I really hope this gets picked up so more people can experiance what a great film I got to see last night. Apparently we can go nag the distributors on twitter and "like" the film on Facebook. I'm sure Abe would if he were still alive.

Eating Edinburgh

2011-06-09T16:47:00.012+01:00

A Search For Unforgettable Food

When: May 2011

Where: Edinburgh, Scotland

Call it luck, call it planning but on a recent trip to Edinburgh I really wanted to eat quality food in a nice environment. I know that shouldn't be hard but meal after meal of forgettable food in London for less than reasonable prices proved me wrong. I can count on one hand the amount of genuinely good meals out I've had in London during the last 18 months. This coupled with some poor planning on a trip to Hamburg made me determined to make the most of Edinburgh. So taking to the web and to the guidebooks it was time to do some serious research. Thanks to FlyerTalk, TripAdvisor and The Rough Guide to Scotland all was planned. I also linked the places up to where we were visiting at that time of the day for the best of both worlds. So here goes!

I'm writing this post as an antidote to all the forgettable food I've been eating in London over the last 18 months: for all the luke-warm service, bland menus, boring food and poor value for money I have been encountering lately. I can probably count only a couple of times when I have been surprised by the quality of the food/service I have had. This coupled with ending up at a McDonalds at Hamburg train station due to my poor dinner planning during a trip there made me determined not to do the same for this trip to Edinburgh. So this time I planned everything to the finest detail including the food. I was armed and dangerous and ready for good food.

Day 1 - Foodies at Holyrood (Ideal for Holyrood House and the Scottish Parliament)

I found Foodies in The Rough Guide to Scotland, it is located a five minute walk from the Scottish Parliament and is the perfect place to grab a light (or less light if you prefer) lunch. Clean, friendly and inexpensive. I had a jacket potato with cheese and beans, my partner had a Tuna Melt panini, both washed down with fruit juice and a decent cup of coffee. It was a perfect cheap lunch out after a long journey and with a long trek around Holyrood Park to come later on it set us up perfectly for the day.

Hadrian's Brasserie (Balmoral Hotel - Ideal for relaxing after an afternoon walking round Holyrood Park)

Having a package deal we had money to spend at the hotel which pretty much covered a three course meal with wine. Service was efficient and friendly (with the small exception of the slightly over eager lady trying to get us to spend extra on aperitif drinks). To drink we had a nice bottle of Côte du Rhône which helped to wash down the bread. We both had egg florentines for starters which were light and perfectly cooked and followed up with lamb for our mains which again was just right. I finished up with a Crème brûlée and my partner had the profiteroles. Good food, nice service and ambiance, though I will remember the hotel more than the meal.

Day 2: Wildfire (Perfect after visiting the National Galleries of Scotland)

Wildfire cross-referenced nicely on both TripAdvisor and FlyerTalk. It specialises in steak and seafood and it did not disappoint. It is a small restaurant located at the end of Rose Street. We went for the 2 course lunch menu for about £12 each and shared a large bottle of local beer between us. I had pâté to start (I seemed to be obsessed with having pâté as a starter) and this one was particularly good. My partner had a large pot of mussels which she was very pleased with, even finishing up most of the broth! Then came the mains, steak and chips, a simple dish and perfect if done right, how often more than likely it wont be. At Wildfire I had the best piece of steak I have ever eaten (and this was just the cheaper rump steak from the lunch menu). Soft on the inside and lubricated with delicious garlic butter, a perfect medium all the way through - this is now my benchmark for steak. I hope I don't have to go back to Wildfire again to have a better one, as Edinburgh's a long way away! Chips were thin and crunchy and just right. After that we were too stuffed to contemplate dessert, all the more so after knowing what was in store later on. Service was steady and polite.

Castle Terrace (Perfect for visiting after the Theatre, Edinburgh Filmhouse or Edinburgh Castle)

So I wanted somewhere special for an anniversary celebration. This was the choice I was most worried about and due to the cost it had to be pretty good. It almost lived up to the billing thanks to the excellent mains and desserts. Anyway, a short cab ride from our hotel, Castle Terrace is found close to the the Theatre district and Edinburgh's Filmhouse. It is an upmarket fine dining restaurant with ambition. The food is Modern European with a French influence and firmly Scottish ingredients through and through. Things started well, the restaurant acknowledged our anniversary, we had a nice table in the corner, with a little privacy away from some of the ever so slightly drunken office workers with their loud conversations. To start things off I had a glass of champagne and my partner had a Kir with white wine. The free appetisers included bread sticks with a twist. They were presented in the style of an incense holder and consisted of some squid ink pasta, bread sticks and some small cheese filled bites. Tasty and a good way to get started. To drink I had chosen a glass of Rioja and my partner had decided to go for a glass of Italian white wine. I had the rabbit ravioli and my partner had the scallops. The ravioli actually reminded me of a super refined version of the won ton soup I used to buy in a can (this was mostly a good thing); the scallops were apparently very good. Next was a small amuse bouche in the style of a cappuccino which was lovely and refreshing; complete with foam, tapenade and finely diced tomatoes. Then came the mains: this was where the fun began. I had the Beef which was a Hampe of Scotch beef, seared and served with potato millefeuille, tomatoes, curly endive and a beef jus. This was a huge plate of perfectly cooked sliced beef served on a bed of endives. The millefeuille consisted of wafer thin slices of potato with a puréed tomato filling. Very filling and very good, even after that steak at Wildfire for lunch. My partner had the rabbit which was Rabbit from Roxburghshire, wrapped in Ayrshire smoked bacon and served with crisp pastilla, carrots and a caper sauce. The whole dish was presented like a little rabbit garden with little carrots, a fence, a hole etc. Apparently it was very good though the bacon was a little overpowering and the design was a little creepy. Finally to wash it all down was a super dessert. For me it was one of the best I have ever had, a pistachio soufflé, light, fluffy and warm, there was no way a single bite of this was going to waste even though I was completely stuffed. My partner had the apples with ice cream which she enjoyed, though she found it a little bit too sweet (and she's normally one to love her sweetness!). Espressi were very much in need at this point. So what stopped this being a five star experience? It was the drinks... I think our sommelier or the barman was having an off night. Revisiting the website I saw a lovely cocktail menu for aperitifs which I dion't recall seeing at the restaurant, instead we were left with the regular menu. I would have much preferred to try one of the Martinis then a glass of champagne. Secondly the sommelier was slow to get to our drinks order and did not introduce himself as the sommelier, so by that time we had already chosen what we wanted. I'm sure our meal would have been that little bit better with some wine advice and the full menu. In all this was a good meal that could have been truly great, you could taste what you were paying for, the service (with the exception of the drinks) was first rate and again, I would like to go back and eat there again. It was then off into the cold night air for a refreshing walk back to the hotel.

Day 3: La Garrigue (Ideal for the Old Town and the many walking tours)

So we finished our time in Edinburgh with a French restaurant with a Scottish twist. La Garrigue got a lot of good press for being mentioned as one of Ramsay's best restaurants. It was also all over TripAdvisor and FlyerTalk etc and with a well priced lunch menu it was the perfect way to round off the trip. I had a warming leek and potato soup, my partner had the onion tart. For the mains I had some lamb with lentils and my partner had the sea bream with wild rice. For dessert we had Crème brûlée. The food was all excellent with the exception of the Crème brûlée which was not quite set, but the flavour was all there. The atmosphere in the restaurant was really great with a real mix of diners, including charming regulars. Service was polite, efficient and non-intrusive. We wanted a relaxing lunch after the previous night at Castle Terrace and we got just that.

In Conclusion

I can't believe how many amazing set lunch bargains there are in Edinburgh, and also how little the chains have set in compared to London (though maybe I need to spend the same amount of time researching the options for London as I did for Edinburgh). If you like to eat well with great service and value for money the above options give you some ideas but of course, we really just scratched the surface during our stay.

Further Reading

La Garrigue

Wildfire

I can't Hear from all the Screaming in the Gallery

2011-02-22T18:57:00.005Z

Basquiat

When: 26/12/2010

Where: Musée d'Art Moderne, Paris

There are many ways to spend Boxing Day: lounging in front of the TV, filling up on leftovers, the sales etc. However, though I can do all of those things I'd much rather be expanding my mind and my experience of the world with an art exhibition, so here goes. It was a cold and icy day yet the queue for the gallery was stretching round the block a little but moving fast. Once in and warmed up it was time to start and thankfully although busy there was enough space for contemplation. The exhibition started with early works. If paintings played music, shouted and screamed then you were in heaven. For a moment you found yourself in early '80s New York, Hip Hop, noisy Subway trains, rubbish and people shouting and screaming. For me this was one of the best parts of the exhibition and I found it very stimulating.

The next section of the exhibition concentrated on diagrams, notes and plans. I found these complemented the main pieces extremely well. The notes and diagrams helped you to see the order and meticulous planning involved in the various pieces as well as pick up on the meaning behind the recurring themes. I spent a lot of time looking at all the details and found it incredibly worthwhile.

The final section of work consisted of some of Basquiat's final pieces including a collaboration with Andy Warhol. I did not enjoy any of the work in the final section. The noise had gone from the art and it had been replaced with the quiet of the gallery and the flatness of a magazine cover. Instead I could feel the clink of the champagne glasses. I just didn't get it anymore. Sadly Basquiat died young so we never got to see where he could have ended up with his work and talent which is a terrible shame.

In addition to the Basquiat exhibition there was also a short exhibition of Larry Clark's photos. Although the man has his critics the photos were on the whole very beautiful and still looked and felt as current as ever. Clark really catches the vulnerability of youth along with its confidence and innocence both in his films and photography and this exhibition was no different. It felt like looking through the glossy urban fashion magazines of my late teens and all the emotions that came with those times. In all I had a fantastic Boxing Day beating a combination of bad TV and the family walk many times over.

Closing Thoughts

2011-01-13T19:59:00.014Z

An Amazing Time With A Little Regret

It seems like only yesterday that I was in a small boat on the Ganges under the moonlight, watching the world (and the odd firework) go slowly and slightly chaotically by. It's now three months after the we came back and the perfect time to write up my closing thoughts from this amazing trip.

First off I was pretty happy with the itinerary we planned. It was great to be able to move at our own pace with comfortable and convenient connection times. The downside was that we probably spent at least a day more than necessary both in Agra and Khajuraho, though Agra is always tricky due to the early start needed to visit the Taj Mahal.

Here are my highlights from each stage of the trip:

Delhi - Walking through the side streets of Old Delhi. It was an amazing experience of colour, sound and smell. Not only that, but we did not get hassled once by anyone. In all a great experience.
Agra - Of course the Taj Mahal is a highlight but viewing it from the other side of the river in the tranquility of the Moonlight Gardens later that afternoon will be my lasting memory.
Orchha - Staying at the Bundlekhand Riverside after two tough nights in Agra was a unique experience, sometimes you just need to feel special and fill up on good food.
Khajuraho - The Western Temple Group and the great guided tour we had. Then coming back as the sun was setting and seeing them all over again and really appreciating their beauty.
Varanasi - Taking a moonlit boat ride on the Ganges during a Diwali celebration. This was possibly the highlight of my trip.
Delhi - Second time around it was living it up and having an amazing belated birthday meal at Punjabi by Nature.

And finally a few regrets...

I wish we had a video camera to record the excellent guided tours we had, now they are distant memories, I would have liked to have kept the detail.
If only I had managed to buy a bigger memory card for our camera, then perhaps we would not have had to swap them and maybe we would not have lost 3/4 of our photos.
It would have been great to have stayed in a better hotel in Agra, I would have loved to have done the Taj Mahal in luxury.
I also think we spent too long in Agra and Orchha, it would have been nice to fit somewhere else in along the way.
And last but not least, not having another trip back to India on the horizon as I would love to go back and see more of this wonderful place.

Below are links to each stage of the trip:

Passage To India - How we got there

Dude Where's My Car...? - Around Delhi

Tickets and Touts - No sleep in Agra

For Relaxing Times, Make it Orchha Time

Running the Gauntlet: Gurus, Gods, Goods and Italian Food

A Moment of Beauty in the Surrounds of Smog and Sarnath

Stuffed, Soaked, Sick and Home

Please feel free to post any questions in the comments section.

Dinner For Ten - Delhi

2011-01-13T19:57:00.009Z

Stuffed, Soaked, Sick and Home

We touched down in Delhi late and tired, waiting what seemed like an age for our bags. Thankfully things were soon looking up as we began the final leg of our trip. We headed out of arrivals to find our driver who took us over to his giant, brand new, gleaming-white Toyota which seemed a little excessive for the three of us but it made a welcome change from the tiny Tata cars we'd had to make do with till this point. After a quiet early evening drive along Delhi's nicer roads we ended up in a quiet gated neighbourhood in South Delhi where our hotel, the French owned Amarya Haveli was located. After the "basic" facilities at our last two destinations this was what we had been missing. We had the "White Room" and our friend had the "Red room". Shortly after checking in and enjoying our new surroundings we ordered drinks and dinner. We went up to the roof terrace to enjoy them (bringing back fond memories of Miami) but had to come down for our food as it had started to rain at this point. For dinner I had a curry with all the trimmings washed down with a cold beer. With the prospect of a good nights sleep and a properly plumbed bathroom things were on the up and up.

The next morning I woke up refreshed from a full nights sleep. We had a substantial breakfast at the hotel before heading out into South Delhi to change enough travellers cheques to see us through till the end our trip. For the afternoon we thought we'd visit the last few things we really wanted to see in Delhi: Humayun's Tomb, the mosque at Nizamuddin and the Lotus temple. After wandering round the block for what felt like the tenth time we finally found a reputable looking money changer. We then grabbed an auto-rickshaw to Humayun's Tomb which required some hard bargaining on the fare. Humayun's Tomb to the uneducated and unguided tourist that I decided to be that day is just like a mini Taj Mahal. We walked round for a bit before deciding to walk the short distance to Nizamuddin as apparently there is a very beautiful mosque there. However, as soon as we arrived at Nizamuddin the rain came down and when it rains it pours. To say that the inhabitants of the mosque welcomed outside visitors with open arms would be the understatement of the year. We shuffled round in our socks not enjoying the beauty of the building and came out to shelter under the roof of one of the stalls located just outside, at least happy to have out shoes on again.

Eventually we decided to make a dash for it and head for the Lotus Temple. We really wanted to see it, rain or otherwise. After refusing to be ripped off by the rickshaw drivers by the mosque we picked up the first guy on the street. The first price he offered was already half that of the first two guys we spoke to. It was quite relaxing being in the back of the rickshaw watching the rain come down. We arrive at the lotus temple and its as impressive as we thought it would be. We decide to brave the rain and start waking towards it. Unprepared for the rain that day we are now soaking wet but we keep going until we see the dreaded sign "no shoes". At this point we decided that it just wasn't meant to be and it was time to return to the hotel for some hot food and drink. Unfortunately the hotel's warning of being hard to find proved true and despite a map and address our driver and his "assistant" had no idea where they were taking us. Eventually we spotted a familiar landmark and got them to drop us off.

Back at the hotel and all dried off we had a light snack and hot drinks before resting up for the evening. We got the hotel to find us somewhere nice to eat which ended up being Punjabi by Nature which was mentioned in our guide book. If we had known what we were in store for we would have probably skipped lunch! We used the hotel's car service to take us to and from the restaurant which was a short drive from the hotel. The restaurant seemed nice and was largely full of locals taking their western business clients out for a good time. We ordered one main each with two portions of rice and two naan breads worrying that between the three of us we might go hungry. Our fears were unfounded. One leg of lamb, a whole tandoori fish and a huge pot of chicken curry later and we had over-estimated our appetites. The food was really great and was as well as being an overdue birthday celebration was a great way to bring our trip to a close. By UK standards the bill was pretty cheap especially as each of the main courses is easily enough for two people as is each bread and serving of rice. Stuffed and happy we got the car back to the hotel, packed our things and prepared to say farewell to India.

Our last morning meant an early start to beat the traffic, but with breakfast waiting for us it didn't seem so bad. The roads were quiet before rush hour and we actually made it with plenty of time to spare. At the airport we made sure to change our remaining rupees as it is illegal to take them out of India and then waited for check in to open. When it did it was chaos to say the least, one final taste of Indian efficiency as the desks were opened, closed and moved. All the lines got mixed together and we ended up in the business class line but that did not help our waiting time or with an upgrade... Check in mess aside T3 at Delhi was pretty straight forward. We picked up some last minute gifts and I found a book I'd been meaning to buy at a great price. It was then time to board the 777 to DXB.

Our connection at DXB was quite tight and the late departure of our flight was not encouraging. I can't remember now what I watched or ate but the flight was okay. Again, the 777 with its squashed seats is no match for the roomy A380, at least we would soon we would be home! We arrived in Dubai highlt worried about making our connecting flight to London. However, despite the best intentions of the ground staff to make us think we would miss our flight we had nothing to worry about as our plane was being held due to the even later arrival of another flight. We were soon up in the air in the economy comfort of the A380. Unfortunately we were unable to sit together on this flight but seeing as I spent almost the whole time watching films and eating, it wasn't a big issue. It wasn't long before we touched down at Heathrow Terminal 3. It was then on to baggage reclaim and the HEX. One thing we noticed by the time we hit Paddington was how cold it was in London. We said our good-byes and shuffled off to the tube for the warmth of home. A great trip had come to an end.

A Religious Experience - Varanasi

2011-01-13T19:54:00.017Z

A Moment of Moonlit Beauty in the Surrounds of Smog & Sarnath

After relaxing in Orchha and Khajuraho it was on to Varanasi. We disembarked the plane and walked across to the brand new terminal building, picked up our luggage and found our driver. Varanasi is (in)famous for many things, we quickly experienced the first one, traffic. The airport was not that far from our guest house but with the traffic the journey by car felt longer than the flight! However being in the back of an air-conditioned Taxi it was fairly comfortable. Outside the pot holed roads filled with livestock and almost every kind of road transport imaginable looked like hell. Anyway, an hour or more later and we arrived at our lodgings, the Maruti Guest House. We were a little unsure at first if we had arrived at the right place due to the lack of signs but once through the gate we were warmly welcomed by the owner and his wife. We sat on the rooftop area with them as they explained to us about food, things to do etc. We given a nice hand drawn map detailing the main areas to visit, complete with recommended rickshaw/Taxi fares which was handy. We checked into our rooms which were "basic" but relatively clean. As our hosts often reminded us this was typical middle class India and the hosts did live in the guest house with their extended family. Anyway, the bed was rock hard again... the plumbing was interesting but I was getting used to not sleeping by now so it was OK!

That evening we took a walk to Assi Ghat by the Ganges to get a taste of the local area and take in some atmosphere. We were a five to ten minute walk away so our location was perfect. We sat on the Ghat for around half an hour watching the sunset. Feeling relaxed but a little tired we went to one the restaurants recommended to us, Haifa where we had a okay middle eastern platter which resulted in a cracked tooth for someone whilst eating the hummus! It may not have been the best place to spend my birthday but we more than made up for it on our last night in Delhi. We returned to Maruti and made an arrangement with some of the other hotel guests to hire a boat on the Ganges the following night for the Diwali celebration. Other than that I caught up reading the copy of The Economist that I picked up at Heathrow in the hope it would help me sleep. The intoxicating fumes of the mosquito coil and general tiredness gave me a good few hours at least.

The next day we started with breakfast at Maruti and met a few of the other guests, some arriving some departing. At breakfast we got our first taste of the middle class yoga hippie types. I had to stop myself from getting annoyed with them almost instantly, anyway, if they managed to find the enlightenment they were looking for, who am I to judge. Our plan for the day was to walk along the ghats and the back streets following the Ganges until we were tired. One of the things Varanasi is famous for are the burning ghats one with an eternal fire (that has been lit for hundreds of years) where cremations are carried out by the river side in full public view. Walking through these burning ghats with the smell of burning wood and logs piled high was hard to describe. I found it both uncomfortable and fascinating, much like many holy places for a non-religious person. Anyway, it is certainly something to be experienced. After visiting the Big Burning Ghat we decided to turn away from the river and catch a little shade. It was just after midday and pretty hot. We wondered through the backstreet markets which was much like a maze. I really enjoyed this as you can feel completely lost and at peace. We walked for a while and found a small restaurant for lunch serving good quality Indian food. The food was nice but it seemed to lose temperature quickly and I was worried about getting food poisoning. However, I felt no ill effects. I think this restaurant would have been perfect and by the sound of things horribly busy for dinner. I decided we should walk back along the roads rather than along the Ganges so we could see as much of Varanasi as possible. We continued along the back streets for a while, passing stalls and tiny temples before heading out on to the main road where there was a huge market. We then headed through the Islamic district and shortly before we were about to cave in and get a rickshaw we were back at the Maruti where we relaxed before our night time boat ride.

I was a little skeptical about this boat ride as we were paying way over the odds for a boat due to the festival, but actually this was one of the highlights of my time in India. We walked down to Assi Ghat where we met our oarsman. They had made the rather rickety looking boat nice for us "high spending" tourists and we set out with the current in our favour and headed out along the river towards the Big Burning ghat as the sun began to set. The light was beautiful and it was amazingly peaceful and romantic despite being with four other people as well as my partner. We tried to take as many shots as possible before the light faded. About three quarters of an hour or so later we stopped for a moment so our oarsman could rest before heading back, this time against the current. It was dark by now and the riverside was ablaze with light. The burning ghats burnt as bright as ever, there was dancing, ceremony and bystanders on the bank were releasing all manner of fireworks and oil lanterns that floated off towards the moon much like a dream image from a children's book. It was truly spectacular and before long it was all over. After the boat we went for food at Hayat, another Mediterranean restaurant. We sat outside only to find two of our boat party had chosen the same restaurant! We must have been a little late to eat as much of the food seemed to have run out. Everything here seemed to be cooked fresh and in the chefs own time judging by the time everyone seemed to wait for their food. However I had such a delicious okra curry it was worth every minute. It tasted like the food I like to cook myself but done with a perfection I have yet to reach. We looked over our photos from the boat trip and headed wearily back to Maruti to enjoy another sleepless night.

The next morning things started as they meant to go on. Other than the shock of the "prison room" in Agra everything had been going pretty well, but today was probably my worst day of the trip. We started with breakfast at Haifa which wasn't particularly nice. We then decided to get an auto-rickshaw to Sarnath to see the Buddhist temples and memorials in celebration of Buddha's early teachings. We found an enthusiastic man going by the name of Bully (Bulli?) who agreed to take us. We soon found out why he may have gone by this name. Most of the rickshaw drivers looked for the best route on the road, away from the pot holes. Bully had other ideas, he liked the thrill of the bumpy road, he reveled in tight maneuvers and shouting abuse at anyone on a bike between singling loudly to himself (we probably should have done a runner once we saw someone had written in his guest book that he was a "bit psychotic"). The other disadvantage of the auto-rickshaw is that when stuck in the continual traffic jam that is Varanasi you start to breathe in all the fumes from traffic and anything else that's passing by. My favourite moment was overtaking a guy on a cycle cart loaded with about 20 layers of eggs... though the consequences for photographing it were not worth while as we hit another pot hole and the camera and its pouch went flying, though luckily they survived. However as we found out later the memory card with almost all our photos on it was not so lucky and ended up somewhere on the streets of Varanasi never to be found (which explains the lack of photos on the the blog).

Eventually we arrived at Sarnath and walked round the area where the remains of the early Buddhist temples were. It sounded much better in the books and whilst I'm sure it was fascinating for those with a religious calling to me it was just like another set of roman ruins and having been to Rome this is not something I find exciting anymore. We then visited the different temples, Japanese, Chinese, Tibetan and had some lunch at a nice little restaurant we we had loads of good food for hardly any money. We then walked back to Bully to brave the ride back to Maruti both shaken and stirred from the ride and from losing almost all our holiday photos. We settled on eating at Maruti that evening and Tripti did not let us down with some amazing Indian vegetarian food. It was the kind of food you will rarely find in a restaurant and only eat if you make it yourself. Exhausted it was time for bed and for me to sleep. Tomorrow we would be heading back to Delhi for the final leg of our trip.

On our last morning we went out for a walk and realised we'd walked past the best place for breakfast every morning we'd been in Varanasi, The Open Hand Cafe and gallery. The Open Hand is a western style cafe and local craft shop, the kind I would probably avoid at home, but thanks to a lovely cooked breakfast and nice strong coffee all was forgiven. The rest of the morning we went visit some of the other temples in Varanasi on foot. After the day before we didn't feel much like an auto-rickshaw. I don't remember much of the rest of the day but we checked out of the hotel that afternoon and went by taxi to the airport to catch our flight with Spice Jet (The Indian Easy Jet) back to Delhi. Our flight was late with hardly any announcements. We also found that airport food can be expensive anywhere in the world, but somehow over-priced Pringles, Snickers and Coke never tasted so good. Anyway, soon enough we were called for boarding and we were up in the air and on our way to Delhi and the final phase of our trip.

Temple Watching - Khajuraho

2011-01-13T19:51:00.025Z

Running the Gauntlet: Gurus, Gods, Goods and Italian Food

We arrived at the Hotel Zen in Khajuraho after dark following the drive from Orchha and although it didn't match the flowers at the Bundelkhand Riverside, Hotel Zen made a good first impression. Unfortunately it was downhill fairly quickly from there... To start with we had booked two different room types and the hotel staff did not seem able to tell us which was which, so after some swapping around we finally decided on our rooms. Both were flawed, but at least there was a nice outside area to sit and plan where to go for dinner which despite being a little dusty was comfortable enough. The rooms themselves were basic, which by now we had learnt to mean poorly maintained/finished with bad plumbing, rock hard beds and the chance of insects. Hotel Zen ticked all the above boxes, however for the price and location it was fine as we were close to the restaurants and to the main western temple complex.

After consulting our guide book we decided to try Mediterraneo, an Italian restaurant, for a bit of a break from the rich curries at the Bundelkhand in Orchha. Despite having a good write up in the guide the place was almost empty. We all had some lovely fresh pasta and I washed it down with a cold beer. The restaurant is on a roof top terrace overlooking the high street and we had a nice peaceful meal as good as any of the UK high street chains we were used to, though of course with an Indian style and price! Anyway we liked it enough to go back a few more times. After dinner we enjoyed the short walk back to the hotel to be greeted by a man who we thought may have been the hotel's owner/manager who offered us a night cap of rum which we politely postponed till later in our stay - more on this at the end for he was truly everywhere.

As we were here for three nights, which was at least one if not two night too many, we plotted out our next few days whilst watching TV. This was the first hotel with a TV in the room during the trip so we made the most of it, flicking through local news, movies and settling on a US sitcom that I can't recall and Quantum of Solace the following night. Around 11-12 it was time for bed and inevitably another sleepless night to enjoy in the tangle of nets, liners and bug spray. Those temples better be worth it!

The following morning after breakfast at Mediterraneo (with a very interesting interpretation of a croissant and decent jug of coffee) we were off to the western group of temples that make up the main attraction of Khajuraho. Now we began to see a little more of how things worked in town. We read in our guide book that Khajuraho was known for its touts and we felt well prepared after Agra. However as we found out Khajuraho is much smaller and many of the tourists are bussed in and out with all activities planned, tables booked and hotels arranged as well as the opportunities to buy all the souvenirs they could ever want. The result is that for the few people not part of a group you never have a moment' of peace. From the second you leave the hotel until you return you can guarantee you will be offered a rickshaw to cross the road, numerous shopping opportunities, a place to eat, sleep, a trip to the "waterfall" or to go and see a “local dance”. Unfortunately the persistence of the various people out trying to make a living by ripping off tourists makes you want to do absolutely nothing at all. It is the one thing that spoils Khajuraho and like many other tourist spots, hopefully other things can be done so people do not feel 100% reliant on tourist money to live.

Rant over! We arrived with our entourage at the temple gate, picked up our tickets and a guide and had a fantastic morning viewing the temples. Our guide was very knowledgeable and helped point out the more interesting statues that make up the temple walls, which to the untrained eye are very easy to miss. For example: a lady having a thorn removed from her foot, a lady with a scorpion on her thigh as well as the many depictions from the Kama Sutra that the Khajuraho temples are famous for. Apparently there is a number of reasons for the unusual sexual depictions on the temple. The one that remained with me was that the population at the time were spending too much time in the forest praying and meditating and needed help to fulfil their social duties. The King was afraid that he would not have a people to rule, so he built temples with sex scenes to entice them back to town. The main element of the temples is that everything works in fours: the temples are built in four sections, the main area in each temple is square and the four different parts of life are represented on the temple walls from top to bottom: Dharma (ethic), Artha (livehood, wealth = economic life), Kam (sensual pleasure = sexuality and physicality) and Moksa (liberation, spiritual freedom). As we talked to our guide we also found out the massive amount of study someone goes through to be an official government guide including the necessary exams covering all of India, not just one particular site. Our guide was a local and decided to return home to Khajuraho to work once completing his studies and exams in Mumbai.

After we had finally tired of temples, at least for the time being, we decided to have a bite to eat at the Raja Café. At this time of day the restaurant was fairly empty and made for a peaceful lunch. We did some reading and looked over our photos. By this time we felt too lazy to do much else so we put off seeing the rest of the temples till the following day. I had also decided that we would return to the Raja Café for dinner. Having been in India for over a week without having had some real tandoori food was unacceptable. I had no choice but to come back as Raja Café had a large tandoori oven that I saw being stoked for the evening ahead. We then had a slow walk back to the hotel window shopping as we went, which is easier said than done as you end up with quite a following by the time you get back to your hotel. Having no intention to shop, my "head down tone deaf" approach worked a little too well as I ended up at the hotel by myself for a while waiting for my companions to catch me up!

After a nice long rest it was time to see a "traditional" dance. The dance was at one of the shinier hotels just outside of the main town centre where they also have a big government run tourist emporium (which is basically the stuff you see elsewhere, just in a quiet, air-conditioned and hassle free environment but unfortunately at double the price). Anyway for all the artistry the dance was disappointing. It was not a local dance as such, but a touristy amalgamation of Indian dance and music. The equivalent would be an Indian tourist visiting Windsor Castle and witnessing a “British”dance show with morris dancing, the cancan, men in lederhosen slapping their thighs rounded off with the flamenco. Anyway... for dinner we returned to the Raja Café where I did indeed have some amazing tandoori chicken, again washed down with cold beer. I was also glad that some of the food I ordered did not turn up. I was full afterwards. It was a great meal and it thoroughly made up for the dancing. During this trip I did have some stand out meal time memories which I will share in my summary. After dinner it was a walk home in the cool night air followed by Bond and bed. The joys of another sleepless night...

Our second full day began with breakfast at the Raja Café, the fact they had real coffee was the big draw here. We then met up with our guide from the previous day, grabbed an auto rickshaw and off we went to see the rest of the temples of Khajuraho. Our guide was a Jain Buddhist, though not the kind who walks around naked, but the kind who doesn't hurt living things. He gave us a great deal of information at the eastern (mainly Jain) group of temples and explained why Khajuraho was such an important Jain site as well as a Hindu one. The Jain temples are a lot plainer than those of the Western group and some are still active. Around the temple complex there was basic accommodation for pilgrims.

After that we enjoyed a ride through the old village where you could see people going about their lives farming and making pots. At the final small southern group of temples we had a small group of beggars waiting for us but we quickly sidestepped them for the end of our tour. The temple here was in the same style as the western group. We were then offered the chance to see the “famous” Khajuraho waterfall by our rickshaw driver. Our guide told us that it was probably best not to visit the waterfall as it was more of a trickle outside the rainy season and there was little else to see there. He did offer us the opportunity to visit a shop that made jewellery and replicas of the statues from the temples. Although knowing it was probably one that paid a commission should we buy anything we thought we'd take a look at it anyway. Seeing the work on the statues only added to the awe of the temples we had just seen. The girls were more interested in the jewellery and the owner was just as eager for them to try it all on. We did nearly spend some money on a star ruby ring/pendant but decided against it in the end. Before parting ways he showed us the active temple at Khajuraho by the western complex. Now back in town we visited our guide's family shop to sign his book. Interestingly he did not try to sell us anything at all which was a nice change. The girls then went and brought some clothes and we had another nice Italian lunch at Bella Italia (nothing to do with the UK chain of restaurants, all the less likely as the food was actually nice).

Little did we know at the time but it was World Heritage Day so we could visit the Western Temples for free again. That afternoon we went back to the complex to take pictures of the temples as the sun set. This was a really great way to spend the late afternoon. It was then back to the hotel for a rest before dinner. Where else to spend our final night in Khajuraho but up on the roof at Mediterraneo for pizza. Nice relaxing times. The following day was my birthday and we were due to fly to Varanasi. However I do have one last story to tell...

Our hotel manager was an interesting character. With it being our last night we finally took him up on his offer of some industrial strength rum. The rum was served up with fresh guava and gulab jamun (a tasty Indian dessert!). After some negotiation on the bill due to a mix up with the rooms resulting in our friend being unwittingly overcharged for a better room than she requested, it was time for bed. The rum certainly helped me sleep that night! So after packing up and a final bite to eat the following morning at Mediterraneo (where else) it was off in the waiting taxi (much to the disgust of the waiting touts) and back to the airport. On arrival we were greeted, we had our bags taken and were guided through all the security with our personal attendants (oh the joy of Kingfisher, even in economy!). Anyway, to round off we thought we'd seen our hotel manager on a few occasions outside the hotel: when not busy being a guru or giving a guided tour he also seemed to run the air side snack shop at Khajuraho airport! Truly a special character we could not forget, much like Khajuraho itself.

Lounging Like a Lord - Orchha

2011-01-13T18:45:00.010Z

For Relaxing Times, Make it Orchha Time

We all left Orchha with some fantastic memories, helped no doubt by giving ourselves time to take it all in, a comfortable place to stay and some really great food. After Agra it was just what the doctor ordered. Having thoroughly hated the hassle of fighting the drivers to get a taxi at Agra Cantt we decided to book a taxi via the hotel for the longish ride from Jhansi to Orchha. Orchha is not particularly accessible by train/bus so a cab was clearly the best option. After mistakenly thinking our driver and the hotel staff were touts (they were ready to meet us on the platform but forgot to show their sign so we tried to get rid of them!) we had an enjoyable ride talking about the differences between life in the UK and India and that we kept neither a car nor livestock...

Arriving after dark at the hotel we were greeted with flower garlands, a warm welcome and after a quick check in we were shown to our rooms. Wow, what a difference a day (and a decent hotel) makes. We were staying at the Bundelkhand Riverside and whilst it cost five times more than Hotel Sheela it felt like it was worth 100 times more! This hotel is a heritage hotel owned by the government and was a former Maharaja's retreat. We had a big bedroom with a small seating area to the side, a giant bathroom which was clean and hardly a hint of damp or rust to be found. There was also plenty of space to place all our things as well as a tray of complementary tea/coffee, fruit, drinks and biscuits. I could get used to this! After a short rest we headed for dinner. Again a marked improvement from anything we'd eaten so far. Unfortunately I cannot remember exactly what I ate but I do remember having my first taste of butter chicken washed down with a huge bottle of Kingfisher beer... in all it was like eating at your favourite local Indian restaurant both nights we were there.

Anyway, enough about the food and the hotel for now, the reason we came to Orchha was to see the beautiful old palaces and temples there and to see something a little less Mogul influenced. After an interesting breakfast in the morning we met our guide and visited the first set of temples which were actually royal residences one of which was only used for one night! The steep steps and hot sun made for a tiring start to the day but our guide was good. We also saw some of the active temples (you can tell by the flag) and some historic ones including a fascinating fresco of the locals fighting off the British. In the afternoon we saw the royal tombs which were quite interesting also.

The rest of our time in Orchha was spent at a leisurely pace, enjoying the good weather and walking along by the riverside where the locals wash their clothes out. it really was a beautiful place. Early evenings were spent on the hotel's roof terrace watching the world go by and talking to other guests at the hotel (who were ironically enough on the package tour we nearly booked). Suitably recharged after our stay it was time to take the car along the narrow bumpy roads to Khajuraho and its special temples. We left with many fond memories.

Tickets and Touts - Agra

2010-12-09T18:26:00.016Z

No Sleep In Agra

At last the moment I'd been waiting for... Not seeing the Taj Mahal but riding the Indian Railways! We were prepared for chaos but somehow despite the crowds (most of whom never seemed to actually get on or even anywhere near the trains) it was all too easy. Up the stairs, our train was already on the board, then down to the platform, check the train plan and wait... Looking around and taking in the atmosphere is much more interesting than standing at Paddington or Euston. Cattle spotting, guessing what's inside the huge containers people are guarding and the sound of the trains blasting out their horns to clear people from the tracks as they come by. Not wanting to risk standing for several hours we had opted for AC2 Class seats which convert from seats to beds for those who want to sleep. A word to the wise, make sure to book the lower berth if you want to choose whether to sleep, sit, stretch etc. The non-side seats will happily hold three people and this is well worth bearing in mind when you choose your seats. If you have an upper berth then you are dependent on whether the person in the lower one wants to sit or sleep, so you may find things a little uncomfortable. Unfortunately on this train the windows were heavily tinted so it was hard to see much of the world go by. We were also accompanied by some armed guards in our carriage as it seemed we had a VIP on board, who it was we will never know.

Some hours later as dusk had turned to night we beeped our way in to Agra Cantt. After reading in our guide book to head straight for the prepaid taxi booth we did just that and had the pleasure of fighting the crowds and learning to watch out for being given old money by people. We ended up in the cab and enjoyed the drive towards the East Gate of the Taj Mahal (which included the sighting of an elephant!) where Hotel Sheela awaited us. As the area around the Taj Mahal is a traffic free zone we had to walk the last few minutes of our journey and had to laugh at people trying to offer us a rickshaw ride for what was barely a 5 minute walk!

Our first impressions of the hotel were good. A lovely outside area, people sitting having dinner etc. However, shortly after check-in the second impression totally undid all the work of the first one. The room we were shown to was possibly the worst place I have ever stayed in or seen in my life. We were expecting something basic and we were paying accordingly but basic does not, in my book, mean poorly maintained. The room resembled a prison cell with with plain walls, bullet-hard beds and a dirty bathroom. To top it off the fan in the room made such a noise it was impossible to sleep. Good job we were getting up at 5am to get a head start for the Taj Mahal. Apparently our booked room was given to someone else. Rooms there were allocated on a first-come-first-served basis, what you reserved was largely unimportant. Apparently we had a chance to move into a better room the following day. It wasn't like it could be any worse! We had dinner at the hotel, which was a cheap and cheerful affair (which would have been more cheerful and less cheap if we had been able to cash our travellers cheques the day before) and then tried (and mostly failed) to get anything resembling a good night's sleep.

Our sole full day in Agra started bright and reasonably early. We set out for the short walk to the Taj only to find out that to buy the tickets you had a 15 minute walk back up the road to the ticket office. Our prime location was looking less prime with every passing call of, "rickshaw." Everyone knew where you were going and all would follow you along the road to the ticket office and back again promising the best fare. The "head down, no eye contact" method worked pretty well and half an hour later we were through the security path down and about to see one of the wonders of the world. Walking around the entrance gardens was reasonably peaceful, and through the gate... Then you see this amazing monument in the early morning haze and out comes your camera, then you put it away, find your space and relax. He must have had a massive guilt complex. You walk though the gardens, past the Diana chair and up to the monument itself. Those beautiful red shoe covers come into play here. (When you visit the ticket office for the Taj you get a little goody bag with water and shoe covers and it helps the rickshaw drivers know whether to say Ticket Office, Taj or Red Fort). Anyway, with it being so early in the morning the area is quite peaceful and you can enjoy the magnificence of the monument itself or a lazy look out along the river. I had some magnificent photos but that's another story.

After taking in every last bit of the Taj and enjoying it immensely, fatigue and hunger kicked in. It was now time to change some travellers' cheques and grab some food. Back at the hotel we managed to move to a better room. It wasn't better by much but the fan worked without making a deafening racket and it looked a little less like a prison. Things were looking up, we had money we could actually spend again and I had a really nice breakfast of scrambled eggs mixed with fried potato shreds, red onions and tomatoes washed down with a painfully sweet fruit juice and a big pot of coffee. The outside area of the hotel was just right, it was still not enough to forgive the rooms.

A short rest later it was time to head out for the rest of the day. We found a very friendly rickshaw driver named Fayed by the East Gate of the Taj and it was off to the Red Fort. After dodging the guides (one was particularly aggressive telling us it would be like strolling through a park without a guide, which was however just what I wanted after a sleepless night) and ticket sellers, we were there. There was something underwhelming about being here, somehow my memory is of watching the scores of chipmunks running around the gardens and a big queue which looked like there was something exciting at the end of it, which in the end was just the way out!

We then found our rickshaw driver and it was an exciting but controlled drive to the Moonlight Gardens which are on the river banks opposite the Taj Mahal. After all the touristic sites here was my happiest time in Agra. It was peaceful and calm. The sky was clear and there was an amazing view of the Taj Mahal completely unobstructed with hardly a tourist in sight. It must have been mid-afternoon and you could see and hear the crowds at the Taj. Suddenly that early morning pain, the lack of sleep, the cell we slept in were a little more worthwhile. The only downside were a group of children begging after being egged on by the adults with them as soon as they saw us, realising we weren't giving them a rupee they left us alone and it was time to go back to the hotel. On the way back we had the inevitable stop at a gift shop to look at scarves, overpriced they may have been but it was more relaxing than trawling the main road and at least some presents were found.

Back at the hotel it was time for dinner and to check our plans for the next destination Orchha. I knew it would be another bad night at the hotel but what I did not know was the beautiful time I would have at our next destination. We spent the morning relaxing at the hotel, I had the eggs again and watched the gardener hard at work whilst I caught up with Mere Anarchy and wondered how nice this place could have been if they had put the same effort into the rooms as they did on the gardening. It was then back to Agra Cantt and up on the Kerala Express to take us to Jhansi.

Doing it on our own - Delhi

2010-12-03T18:31:00.012Z

Dude Where's My Car...?

After searching the long line of pick-up drivers we found our man and it was off to the Master Guesthouse without a hitch, or so we thought. There was however, a small problem; the driver had lost his car in the airport car park. Luckily for all of us we went down a floor and the car was soon found. We were out of the airport and into the real world. As we weaved calmly through the traffic it was nice to look out the window and watch this new world go by. Not too many animals on the road just yet, but quite a few auto-rickshaws and plenty of traffic. As we were driven into suburbia we were soon at our hotel/guesthouse where we'd stay for the next two nights. On arrival we had our bags taken from us and headed upstairs for our check-in and introduction to Delhi from the hotel owners, Ushi and Nishi who lived on the ground floor of the building. We had some tea, coffee and cookies, a local map and some tips for what to do as well as a briefing on Delhi's metro and on how much to pay the rickshaw drivers (easier said than done when you don't have much in the way of small notes!). We had a nice room at the top of the building that opened out on to the terrace, it was fairly quiet and incredibly relaxed. The room was nice and homely and we felt like we were off to a good start. We took a short rest and unpacked before heading out to acclimatise in our new surroundings to the famous heart of New Delhi, Connaught Place.

I enjoy almost all journeys of any kind, my first ride on the rickshaw from the hotel to the metro station was interesting and surreal, watching the driver navigate through the traffic and around the pot holes in the road. Even for fans of trains great and small Delhi Metro is certainly an acquired taste. For short term tourists it's pretty straight forward, you buy a chip and the further you go the more you pay with an approximate 2INR increase for each station. Despite being mid afternoon it felt like rush hour. The stations have big long platforms but the trains, new and shiny as they are, only seem to take up about half the platform length and as a result they are very busy as people push their way on and off as if their lives depended on it.

As soon as we had left the station the touts were after us, the government shopping complex must have been paying a good commission as every other person we bumped into were desperate to take us there. We walked into the park in the centre of Connaught Place which seemed newly refreshed (but poorly finished) and we got a little flashback from Amsterdam as it was full of men holding hands, which in India means just close friends unlike many other places in the world. The park was not particularly memorable apart from using the same style of signs as the London parks and an incredibly drab water feature... As dusk was upon us we made a quick visit to the tourist office to pick up a free city map and despite the kind man's offer to completely rebook our entire two week itinerary we were pushing our way onto the metro, fighting with the rickshaw drivers and back at the hotel for dinner before we knew it.

After a light dinner of Indian-style scrambled eggs it was off to bed for an early night in preparation for our first day of proper sightseeing. Before continuing with our time in Delhi it is time for a note on the lovely beds I experienced during the trip. In all but one of the hotels and guesthouses we stayed in, the beds were rock hard and I woke up with back ache at best after a night's sleep and at worst after a couple of hours. To this day I do not understand the fascination with such uncomfortable sleeping arrangements. Perhaps I am just getting old.

There's nothing like curry to start the day, so to build my energy for sightseeing I started as I meant to go on with an Indian style breakfast of potato curry, bread and pickles washed down with plenty of coffee. I really enjoyed the food I ate at Master Guesthouse as it was always fresh and reminded me of the Indian food I liked to cook myself. So after another encounter with the oh so friendly rickshaw drivers who were trying to charge us five times the correct fare we were back at Karol Bagh metro station for the push and shove match of the Delhi Metro and we were off towards Old Delhi with its markets, the Red Fort and Jama Masjid. Other than a few calls from the rickshaw drivers and the crazy traffic it was quite calm walking from the station towards Jama Masjid, there were many food stalls along our way just setting up for the day, good job I'd eaten well this morning. We arrived at the mosque only to find out we'd arrived during prayer so we pressed on through the market area and a grotty subway towards the Red Fort where we were greeted by the postcard and guidebook sellers who were swiftly avoided.

Once through the ticket gates and security you walk through a small shopping bazaar and then in to the fort. We picked up a guide who showed us round and told us what the different parts of the fort were and explained the Hindu, Muslim and Christian aspects of the architecture as well as what the British left behind. The main reason for mixing everything was to reassure those that came to visit as they would see something familiar and feel at ease and that they would receive fair treatment. The guide was good and it helped us appreciate Agra a lot more without needing a guide to show us round the tourist sites there.

After the Red Fort we headed back towards Jama Masjid and off to lunch at Delhi's famous restaurant/institution Karim's. The restaurant is actually more like a courtyard with kitchens and seating areas in the surrounding buildings. We soon got a table and sat down to eat. I'm glad we visited and the food was good value though underwhelming (kebab and spinach curry, rice, bread etc.). Maybe we chose the wrong things as many other people seemed to be enjoying themselves. After Karim's we briefly visited Jama Masjid before prayer started up again and then headed out for a meandering walk around Old Delhi's streets. This was one of my best memories from Delhi, walking around watching people caught up in the excitement of buying and selling, the smell of the street food and the complete absence of hassle. Unfortunately looking for the Metro you see the other side of Old Delhi, the poor sleeping and begging in the street, the smell of urine and animals grazing along the road whilst everyone else is swerving round them. After asking around we made it with a huge amount of pushing and shoving on to the metro and back to the hotel, exhausted and just about in one piece. London will always seem a walk in the park after this. Back at Master Guesthouse we had a lovely home cooked dinner and a good night's sleep.

Our final day in Delhi was a damp and frustrating one. Our train to Agra didn't depart till late afternoon so we decided to visit what looked like a local temple. In reality it was more than a half hour's walk away along a main road. Not the best time for a heavy rain shower. Arriving at the temple soaked through we stood there bedraggled and took the first auto rickshaw back, somehow price was not important at this point. Luckily we dried out and it was time to bid farewell to the nice people at Master Guesthouse and get the train from Hazrat Nizamuddin to Agra.

Passage To India

2010-12-03T17:30:00.009Z

How we got there

For me my trip starts when I check in online and book my HEX tickets (with a hefty discount code of course). My first taste of what to expect in India was the crazy world of Emirates' online check in. For some reason the seat selection part of the process and I did not get on and every time I tried to move our three seats on the 777 the body of the plane seemed to increase in length from the middle and out... Not a promising start and a few minutes of frustration turned into many more minutes of laughter as by this time the length of our aircraft had doubled and we now had infinite leg room (which in the end was far from the truth!). Somehow as I went to bed that night I felt a little underwhelmed for what would have been the longest and most exotic trip I had taken in fifteen years. A mix of good planning, sheer exhaustion and an early afternoon departure probably didn't help.

We were supposed to meet at Paddington at around 10am to allow for lateness etc. This was a good idea as standing for 15mins in the cold waiting for a tube was not really the best start to the morning. Anyway, safely on board the HEX with a nice set of seats together my excitement levels were up and keeping out the cold. After 10 years the HEX is looking a little worn around the edges and for the money charged at full price or otherwise it could really do with a bit more TLC/refurbishment. 20mins after sitting down we arrived at Heathrow Central and made the short trip to T3. The check in area was right in front of us, there was almost no queue, easy does it through security and off for breakfast. We chose the middle of three equally average options as it was the only one still doing breakfast after 11am. Strangely for the nice people serving us they managed to plate up an English breakfast in about five minutes and yet it took them half an hour to sort out a toasted cheese sandwich; impressive stuff indeed. The book and magazine choice in WH Smith was significantly worse than the airport food, which was a pleasant difference to Gatwick's North Terminal. Then it was off to the gate and a first glimpse of the beast of the skies, the A380. Other than the scale of the aircraft my other highlight of boarding was getting a copy of The Economist, not really holiday reading but better than the dross in Smiths.

On planning the trip I wasn't too keen on doing an indirect flight and stopping over, the one benefit and selling point was the opportunity to try the A380, this was definitely a wise choice and one that got me at least a few brownie points as we were nearly booked on to something else. The plan is large, comfortable and quiet and still feels brand new. Up in the air and I was enjoying a few indifferent films on a decent size seat back TV, Iron Man 2 and Polanski's The Ghost come to mind There may have been something else but the lamb served as the main meal was more memorable. By then seven or so hours had passed and we landed in DXB. I was hoping to see some of the famous Dubai sites lit up by night such as the Palm but no such luck.

Once landed it was back through security and then a walk through the terminal whilst we had four hours to kill awaiting our flight to Delhi. Using the if in doubt try McDonalds option we settled down at a table for a while and waited for the boarding call. By this time I had already lost all since of time and place, as it was around 4am local time when we headed off to the gate at the opposite end of the terminal for boarding. The flight to Delhi must have special memories for someone at DXB, it felt like it was in the remotest of remote stands and a good 15mins by airport bus. Aboard the 777 reality set in, gone were the wide aisles and spotless interior from the A380, these were replaced with narrow seats, yellowing overhead bins with a just edible Indian breakfast and The A Team to keep me awake. At least there was Tetris which was sadly missing on the A380. Anyway, we would be in India in a few hours and our trip would be starting for real. Touching down a little late we were glad to be finally there. On planning the trip we were expecting a bit of a nightmare on landing at DEL, in fact the new T3 was clean, comfortable and it was only a short time before we were through security, bags in hands and out to find our driver. India was finally with us.

Voyage to India

2010-12-03T16:52:00.018Z

14 Day Tour of North India Introduction

When: November 2010

This November I enjoyed a short 14 day trip around North India. The itinerary was Delhi, Agra, Orchha, Khajuraho, Varanasi, Delhi. The trip was self planned and allowed plenty of time for rest and contemplation as well as site seeing and the chance to stay in different kinds of places, foods and transportation. I will use the next few posts as my own online diary to try and keep the best and worst memories alive. It seemed so far away and impossible that I would end up doing this trip, then suddenly it is all over.

Passage To India - How we got there

Dude Where's My Car...? - Around Delhi

Tickets and Touts - No sleep in Agra

For Relaxing Times, Make it Orchha Time

Running the Gauntlet: Gurus, Gods, Goods and Italian Food

A Moment of Beauty in the Surrounds of Smog and Sarnath

Stuffed, Soaked, Sick and Home

An Amazing Time with a Little Regret

95 Minutes of Argh!

2010-10-08T19:04:00.004+01:00

500 Days of Summer (Marc Webb, 2009)

When: Late September

Where:At Home on one of the Sky Movie Channels

There's something very off about this film, but I can decide what it is. Is it uncomfortably real, a play by play re-enactment of a bitter man or is it complete fantasy. Either way the 95 minutes of pain took me back about 10 years or so. Back then this was the film I wanted to make, perhaps even a little further back, but then back then I was only just starting my addiction. I suppose it's not so hard to empathise with a love struck but cowardly obsessive... anyway, moving on. The film starts like a good old fashioned comedy with a what seems amusing credit:

At the beginning of the film, before the title, a disclaimer states:
"AUTHOR'S NOTE: The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Especially you Jenny Beckman.

Bitch."

However, the specific nature of detail in the film actually scared me a little. From the repeated use of the colour blue, the Zac Braff style fantasies, the music choices and references it felt like there was something going on. Should this have been a call for celebration, or was it just a perfect re-enactment of the our main man and his neurosis. My remaining memory of this film was that if I was 19 years old or younger this was the film I always wanted to make. After that I grew up and got on with it and stopped the whinging. Anyway, enough was enough and I was happy when this movie was over.

Let the Blood Times Roll

2010-10-01T16:49:00.005+01:00

God of War III (SCEA, 2010)

On:PS3

Completed:September 2010

I loved every minute of button bashing fury in God of War III. The game is simple, seek revenge on those who have hurt you and anything and anyone who gets in your path. Yes, there's a little more story to it than that but the plot is simple and is not the main reason for playing. There are two main fighting styles in God of War III. The first is using your weapons to take down enemies and inflict damage, there are different moves and combos, or you can just press a number of buttons repeatedly switching from low power attacks to high powered ones and watch the carnage and combos build up. The second type of combat is when you are about to finish off a larger foe, you are prompted on screen to press a button/buttons or move the left stick in a particular fashion to complete the move. This mode normally starts up when you see the circle button displayed above the head of your foe meaning you can grab them. What makes God of War III particularly special is level of graphic violence, you do not just knock bad guys over or stun them, you pummel them to death, decapitate them, tear them apart limb by limb, beat every last pint of blood from their bodies. Here you get to really test yourself. How much anger is inside you waiting to spill out?

The look and feel of God of War III is breathtaking, from the dark underworld of Hades to the decaying magnificence of Olympus, it's all there. There is plenty of detail, much of which you can interact with to revel hidden treasures to help with upgrades to help you complete your revenge on Zeus. Not only that but things in the game that look like they are just window dressing take on new features and become important to your progress as the game progresses. The chain of Olympus being one example of this. Sometimes this ability to revisit old locations is a little confusing as you wonder if you should be going back where you have came from. New power brings new options and different areas open up and new things happen with the extra abilities you gain. The soundtrack to God of War III is suitably menacing and sounds much like an army going to war (or a little like the south park anime spoof!) but I think it works well.

In short this is a beautiful rage filled game, it was the kind of game I had been missing for a while and I enjoyed every last fight right up to Zeus' final pummeling and the blood red screen that follows. Apparently hope is the strength you need to kill a god, it is the secret weapon they cannot fight against. For all the anger the game tries to end on a positive light. If you like your blood baths and all out fighting action then I don't think you will be disappointed.

I think You Should Have Taken Woody's Advice and Seen a Shrink

2010-08-18T16:43:00.012+01:00

Inception (Christopher Nolan, 2010)

When 8th August 2010

Where BFI Imax

This film worked a little bit for me, it depends what that third elusive layer is and if I can be bothered to find it or not. I think it would have worked less well if I had written this review right after seeing it when I thought that Cobb was referring to Ma, instead of Mal for most of the film (but it sure would have been fun, especially if he had killed Michael Caine to get to her). The manipulation was entertaining and the inception of the idea was a good one but rather than being filled with a sense of purpose I am left with an empty feeling of "Is that it? You had the chance to have so much more fun." To keep it quick Inception uses dreams as a metaphor for films. In the world of Inception you can create shared dream experiences as a way to gather information that people would prefer to keep secret. However the true masters can also input ideas into the recipients' brains without them knowing about it, making them think it was their idea all along.

I guess my problem with Inception was that it failed to give me the killer idea, it kept me entertained with pretty visuals, some funny jokes, a nice bit of action, great acting but that's all. To take the whole dream/film metaphor idea to its logical conclusion as presented in Inception just got dull. The following exchange sums this up nicely:

Cobb: You create the world of the dream. We bring the subject into that dream and fill it with their subconscious.
Ariadne: How could I ever acquire enough detail to make them think that it's reality?
Cobb: Our dreams, they feel real while we're in them right? It's only when we wake up that we realize that something was actually strange!

I'm sure it would only take a second viewing and pen and paper to find a few more interesting quotes that say the same thing. Anyway, Ariadne and Cobb make some shorts together, and Ariadne learns from Cobb not to make the world too strange as the audience can't take it. He also tells her that you should use elements from real places but not exact copies as people can't cope with that. I think Nolan needs to watch some better movies or have more faith in the audience, real locations are a lot of fun. Or as to summarise Chris Doyle, the best movies are made on your door step or as far away from home as you can possibly be.

Anyway, how do you know whose film you're in: you will need a little mark/motif or action that is known only to you. In the film these are represented as totems that behave in a specific way so their user knows if they are dreaming or not (we have a chess piece, a loaded dice and a spinning top that only runs out of energy when you are awake).

Arthur: ...when you look at your totem, you know beyond a doubt you're not in someone else's dream.

You also need a full crew, and since someone has taken the time to put this together already I don't feel the need to do so again:

One interpretation of the film proposed by critic Devin Faraci reads it as an allegory of the filmmaking process. Saito represents the studio head who orders the project, and who insists on overseeing the work in progress. Arthur, who is responsible for making sure the job is organized and runs smoothly on schedule, is the producer. Cobb, who is in charge of executing the mission, but who brings his own personal dreams, ideas, and agenda into the works, is the director. Adriadne, who is hired by Cobb to design the world of the dream, is the screenwriter. Eames, who impersonates Browning, is the actor. Yusuf, who supplies the team with what they needs to do their work, is the special effects technician. And Fischer is the audience for whom the whole show is put on for.

Anyway, I am getting bored of film studies 101 now. If David Lynch made action Sci Fi blockbusters this might have been great, more subtle and I would have enjoyed making my own meaning from the film even if it wasn't quite the right one. Inception never allowed me this benefit. The structure and metaphor of film=dream was too obvious, we saw the inception coming as we already knew what it was. However, maybe I am missing something as wasn't there supposed to be a dream within a dream within a dream or a film within a film within a film. I will update should I find the time to take a second look to make all three layers happen.

At last, someone who knows good service

2010-07-19T17:13:00.009+01:00

Nuovi Sapori

Eating on: 17th July 2010

Eating with: Family

I was beginning to think it was just me but for the last couple of months the service I have received going out for meals has been truly indifferent. It was getting to the point where I was struggling to remember going out to eat and enjoying both the food and the restaurant I was eating in. Sometimes I was lucky to enjoy just the food. I can think of two notable exceptions this year, Whits in Kensington being one of them. However, that was before this weekend. Things were looking up last week at Masala Zone, really friendly service though not the best food in the world. But in the end the whole thing felt a little scripted and by the book, rather than from the heart. Plus the thali I had was not as good as Woodlands, the whole thing felt more ready meal than made to order. The restaurant was also a little empty which did not add to the atmosphere. Last weekend was the chance for a nice family meal, the last of which was at one of my exceptions to the rule for great food this year, a small Italian restaurant round the corner from me, which one from the chain of three I forget!!

We arrive at Nuovi Sapori around 7pm, the restaurant was completely open at the front, perfect for a nice summer's evening. Thanks to our early reservation we had a great table right in the middle of the room, perfect to soak up the atmosphere that would build during our meal. The restaurant manager greeted us and made us feel comfortable right away. Menus and ample time given, no concept to explain, the option of pre-meal drinks but politely declined so that we could balance our wine with our meal. So far so good. We placed our order and when the wine arrived (a nice fruity Pinot Grigio) we were also served some bread with a sundried tomato tapenade. Starters were ordered: mozzarella with parma ham, melon and parma ham, warm avocado with crab, and mussels filled with crispy bacon and avocado (the specific stuffing for the mussels escapes my mind). The food was nice and hot (except the melon!) and came quickly. By observation the timings seemed around the same for other guests, even as the place got busier. The meal was off to a good start, the portions were just about the right size and we were all looking forward to the main course.

Throughout our meal staff were on hand all the time and were continually watching (non-intrusively) to make sure our glasses were filled with water/wine and that we were enjoying ourselves. The atmosphere from the staff was that they were happy to be at work, and that they could see whether or not you were enjoying your meal rather than, as you suspect in many places, it's just in the handbook to go and ask, with the expectation that the customer says "fine, thanks". The whole thing was thanks to a fantastic restaurant manager that truly led from the front allowing the team to be themselves with customers, in all, very impressive on the service front.

A short, but needed wait for the mains followed. We ordered two different takes on veal, both served with rosemary potatoes (a touch underdone but not swimming in olive oil, thank goodness), a very good sized chicken dish served on mash potatoes and a seafood risotto. Again, all food was cooked well, served nicely and simply and just the right amount. There was plenty of banter with the restaurant manager to make sure we were happy, time for a pause and then dessert. We had tiramisu, pancakes and panna cotta, again, with appropriate break between the end of the main course before the dessert came. I think we needed the time to soak up that second bottle of wine. Before leaving the restaurant manager came over to offer us a grappa (on the house) and made sure we left with a smile on our faces, but also in need of the cup of coffee that was awaiting us at home!

Did Nuovi Sapori have the best food ever, the most original concept, the most fancy decor? Not at all. The food was just above average, the decor was plain, there was no fancy concept. So why does this place work so well? One really easy answer comes to mind, this restaurant seemed to have one simple philosophy, "what can we do to make our customers happy?" I know I would be happy to return again, even if I was paying the bill this time round!

Sex and Death: What Could Possibly go Wrong?

2010-05-25T18:58:00.010+01:00

Y tu mamá también (Alfonso Cuarón, 2001)

Watched: 22nd May

Where: TV

I first saw Y tu mamá también around seven or eight years ago, yet somehow my feelings towards it have remained unchanged. I still feel both sad and uplifted by the ending, the different journeys that life takes and how quickly they come to an end, the fragility of the relationships between the participants of life's journeys. There are a few journeys in Y tu mamá también, and many opposites sitting alongside. At the centre of the film you have rich vs poor, urban vs rural, young vs old and life vs death amongst others. The journeys that our characters take and the relationships they build help break down the barriers between the oppositions but also bring up new ones in their places.

The oppositions in the film begin with the opening sex scenes where young lovers make each other promise their fidelity as our young ladies are about to embark on a trip to Italy, leaving their men behind in Mexico. Like the many vows we see in the film this one proves to be empty. The boys Tenoch (Diego Luna) and Julio (Gael García Bernal) tell Luisa (Maribel Verdú) on their drive along the coast of their "brotherly vows not to be unfaithful and sleep with each other's women" but by the end of the film both admit (though somehow you feel like at least one of them is lying) to having slept with each other's girlfriends, and they both end up sleeping with Luisa too. Jano and Luisa are married, Jano (Juan Carlos Remolina) phones his wife whilst drunk admitting an affair, thus prompting her final journey with the boys and her sexual experiences with them.

The physical journey that our characters take from urban to rural (read also rich to poor) is also central to the relationships in the film, especially when contrasted with the social backgrounds of our characters. Tenoch is wealthy, was born wealthy and will probably die wealthy. Julio is very much middle class and not as wealthy as Tenoch continually reminds him (mostly in jest and also when they fight). Luisa had a tough upbringing in Spain looking after her sick grandmother while her husband is an author and academic who gets invited to a wedding where the president is a guest of honour. Although there are comments in the film about the class struggle it does not judge the characters themselves in terms of their class but we do see some of the consequences of the power the "haves" have over the "have nots". The change in politics the film mentions does not have disastrous consequences for Tenoch's wealthy father, but the building of a hotel whilst creating many jobs takes away the livelihood and family profession of Chuy who is no longer able to fish and take tourists on private boat tours. Progress comes at a price it seems, for some the price is easier to pay than others, but the innocence and simplicity of friendship and family are lost forever.

Another opposition that is set up is birth, this is in the form of a new set of sexual relationships, a new marriage, a trip to a secret beach, trying things for the first time, an escape from death, moving from school to University and the inevitable progression to adult life that follows. This is inevitably followed by death in the final scene of the film. Julio and Tenoch meet again and have coffee together. Both have now grown apart and have long since split up from their girlfriends following their road trip with Luisa. Tenoch tells Julio that Luisa died of cancer shortly after the end of their trip. Luisa wanted to spend the last moments of her life with no regrets, sharing her experiences and regaining a little of the youth she lost caring for her sick grandmother. For Luisa the trip was a chance to be reborn and feel freedom for one last time (or perhaps for the first time). For Tenoch and Julio it was the chance to be adults for the first time and children for the last time. The end of their friendship signified their coming of age. When we see them in the coffee shop they are dressed more smartly, more conservatively, they are not the same people we saw mocking the guests at the wedding party, their freedom and youth seem to have vanished. Their shared memories seem distant and blurry.

I love this film for the innocence of its characters, their fun adventure versus the sullen reality of the factual documentary style voice over narration. I like the childhood innocence and the fragility of young friendships. I understand how everything feels like it will last forever but tomorrow it is gone and the day after that but a distant memory. I feel that sometimes the big things don't matter but it's the little ones that count. Then I realise that these little things are big things after all; a passing remark, calling or not calling, participating or sitting out. Everything adds up, sex and death, the beginning and the end. What could possibly go wrong in between?

I did it! Didn't I?

2010-05-08T17:09:00.012+01:00

Heavy Rain (Quantic Dream, 2010)

Who is the origami killer? That is the quest that Heavy Rain sends you on. Young boys are being kidnapped and drowned with the same clues left with each body. Your job is to solve the mystery and save the latest victim in this tragic tale, Sean Mars. You take control of four characters involved in the story to save Sean. Depending on the choices you make, different plot points may (or may not) come into play that dictate the final outcome of the game. Heavy Rain starts out like a bad film noir and builds into something so much more, it is a game filled with emotion and addiction that haunts you for days.

We kick off with Ethan Mars, a bit of a sad sack and thanks to the voice acting he feels like he has a huge gaping void inside him. Even in the opening segment of the game where he is playing with his sons feels somewhat hollow. Ethan's life falls into ruin when his son Jason is killed in a car accident after Ethan loses track of him on a family trip to the shops. Ethan ends up in a coma in his attempt to save Jason. Months later Ethan is a washed up and desperate man living alone. He suffers from blackouts and strange dreams which always end up with him holding an origami figure in his hand. Being the great dad that he is, Ethan loses his other son, Sean during a blackout episode at the park and so begins his search to get his son back. Ethan's strand of the narrative takes on a serious of trials that are laid out for him by the origami killer to reveal the whereabouts of his son. For Ethan however, life is not so simple. He harbours a large amount of guilt over what has happened with his sons, and with his blackouts he starts to believe that he may be the origami killer and the trials he must complete he has created as a way to uncover his split personality and remember where he hid Sean. Somehow Ethan is just not very likeable, you tend to feel he's a bit of a depressing social outcast who is unable to interact with anyone. Though depending on how you do with the trials and which outcomes you chose you do begin to warm to him as the story progresses.

Our second protagonist, Scott Shelby a fat, trench coat wearing, hard as nails private eye and former police officer who is investigating the origami killer case privately. On completion of the game he is the character who you will want to replay the most. Shelby seems bored with the investigation, he shuns help and seems to genuinely not care about the real killer being found out. Instead he chases after part animal and bored rich boy Gordy Kramer who he believes is the origami killer. A classic clichéd detective filled with personality flaws that come to light as the game goes on. Depending on your path he may suck you into liking him but his strange behaviour is initially hard to explain until you slowly uncover his truth, at this point how you feel about him is the real beauty of the game. My favourite bit is when he leaves his assistant Lauren to die in the sunken car after Kramer has tried to kill him. But maybe that says more about me than about the game!

FBI profiler and drug addict Norman Jayden is our third protagonist. With his magical C.S.I. glasses that he uses to review the crime scene mixed with a sceptical and hilariously violent partner, Blake who is happy to lock up the first person he finds and close the case. Will Jayden find the origami killer, will he OD on drugs and can he get around Blake and do the job he was hired for? You can have quite a bit of fun with Jayden, you can be spineless and weak, cold hearted, caring, in fact you have quite a lot of choice as to how you want to play him. However, make sure you don't take too many drugs if you want to make it to the end alive!

Finally we have Madison Paige, journalist, kind heart, and insomniac. Or is she just undercover and playing a role to get the inside scoop? For some reason Madison feels a little shallow and underdeveloped in the two times I've made it through to the end of the game. You just feel like making her walk around semi naked rather than solving anything in particular. Perhaps it's because I have not fully explored her character, but it feels like there is something missing with her. It would be interesting to know what triggered the nightmares and insomnia. Does she also have a difficult past like Ethan and Shelby?

Heavy Rain is not a game for long summer nights. It is a game for wet, dark, overcast days at home. That relentless rain and those endless shades of grey make you want to end it all. Still, you keep on playing to find that clue and unravel the mystery. The way the game cross cuts from character to character makes it very hard to put your controller down. Not to mention that most of the levels are short enough for you to say to yourself "just one more" when really you should have been in bed an hour before. The game looks amazing, great location set pieces that you want to see over again with lots going on. What I like most about Heavy Rain is the morality test. Do you do what you think is right? Do you do what you think you need to do to complete the game? How do you react again to the same scenes once you know who the killer really is? What would have happened if I did this differently? However hard you try and play in a dispassionate fashion the game sucks you in time and again, testing your mental strength and at times dexterity to beat some of those challenges. Heavy Rain is not perfect, sometimes the controls feel a little clunky and sometimes you feel forced to behave in a specific fashion when you want to try something else. To end the review I think I'll retrace my steps and see if I can get away with the killing Sean this time, or perhaps not!

Three Takes on Jazz

2010-04-22T16:10:00.009+01:00

Little Dragon, Jose James and Soil & Pimp Sessions (2010)

Heard: Little Dragon, Jose James, Soil and Pimp Sessions

Where: Relentless Garage, Jazz Cafe, Relentless garage

When:4th March, 18th March and 6th April

During the last month I've had the fortune to enjoy three great live shows each with their own take on Jazz.

Let me start with the first and the most unexpectedly good, Sweden's "Little Dragon". I ended up booking tickets to see them back in March this year and also for Soil & Pimp Sessions when I saw that Jose James was doing a live show in London and thought it would be fun and interesting to see how they worked as a live band. The show was a lot of fun and the band have an interesting dynamic. The energy of their little singer with her big voice and personality shine out on stage; running, dancing, jumping etc. she is a stark contrast to her trendy, beardy band mates hiding behind their instruments. The music itself is well crafted pop but with the underlying jazz influence and lots of electronics that drifts me off in to a hypnotic trance. Hmm... I really should go and buy their last album now, I want more than just the memories.

On to Jose James a few weeks later, this time at the Jazz Cafe. The nice thing about the Jazz Cafe is that it's a nice small venue so you can get a great view and nice and close to the action. So close that the support act was stood right in front of us! Jose James has a classic sounding southern bluesy voice and has taken a really great band on the road with him. There was lots of banter between the musicians and I left with a smile on my face. The whole show was a bit of a ronseal effect though, it did exactly what it said on the tin, not a bad thing, it just it felt a little underwhelming, whereas with Little Dragon and Soil and Pimp shows they were more then just a sum of their parts. Perhaps this was more down to the fact he seemed to have a very well drilled show in quite a different environment. If I go to the Jazz Cafe again I might try the upstairs thing and get dinner as well.

Saving the best till last was Soil & Pimp Sessions out of Japan. What a show! Big entrance, mad clothes, bigger hair. They may look like a bunch of wannabe "hip-hop" gangsters but these guys can play with some crazy energy. The band are made up of trumpeter, double bass player, percussionist, keys, a sax player and a shouty big pimp-a-like! Starting with their trade mark high energy death jazz and willing us into a frenzy it was tiring just to watch the guys in action, despite the image they are fantastic musicians who play great and upbeat jazz music. The show was not all one paced hyperactive jazz either, they go a little disco and also a little more loungey when the sax and trumpeter are taking a break. I have been hammering the CD since and I hope very much they come back to London sometime soon for me to catch them again.

There we have it, Electronic Jazz Pop, good old fashioned Jazz and Blues and 21st Century Death Jazz.

Could I Trouble You For A Foot Massage?

2008-11-23T18:01:00.026Z

Death Proof (Quentin Tarantino, 2007)

Watched: 23rd November 2008
Where: On TV

Sometimes I wish I was 15 again, not often but sometimes. Watching Death Proof was one of those times. Actually pretty much every Tarantino film makes me wish I was 15 again, right from the first time I saw Pulp Fiction (Tarantino, 1994) and just as much so with Death Proof. Death Proof has all the ingredients needed for my 15 year old self: Sexy girls, fast cars and faster crashes, great conversation and the ability to bring out the trainspotter in me to be the first to have seen all the films Tarantino quotes. The other joy of being 15 again would be just to re-write the film for my blog. Yes, the joys of being 15 again, writing a review would have been fun, but life is not quite that simple if you want to try and understand what is happening, not just repeat what you see.

I find it so easy to become lost in the world created by a film, sometimes this makes bad films interesting and for me makes Bond films the greatest movies ever made. Thank goodness I've never started watching Star Trek... Death Proof and in particular all of Tarnatino's movies get me completely lost when I try and understand what world they live in. Tarantino's world is spun together with quotations from the history of trash cinema, the people that live in his world are usually amalgamations of the characters from these movies. However, sometimes we forget that the real world is all around them. Tarantino blurs this distinction when we have the things that make us think they are quotes from the distant past, or products from the real world but are in fact Tarantino's own concerns, like the Big Kahuna Burger and Red Apple Cigarettes, to name just two. When someone in Tarantino's world tries to enter the real world it is not a pretty sight, The Bride (Uma Thurman) trying to look after her daughter in the opening scenes of Kill Bill (Tarantino, 2003/2004) whilst ending up in a big fight.

Death Proof is a film spoofing/paying homage to the 1970s Grindhouse movies, which I can't say I have ever really watched. Though with a little help they can be explained:

"What is a grindhouse movie? Here's my best definition: it's a movie that makes
you want to run, not walk, to the nearest shower, but leaves you unable to
decide whether the shower should be hot or cold" - Tim Lucas - Sight and Sound - June 2007

Probably the best thing about Death Proof is how simple it all seemed after watching it. Just like that film for a 15 years old. However, the problem with Death Proof is that it cannot exist in isolation. It forms part of the Tarantinoverse which you could spends years researching, ticking off your trainspotter list of quotes, (self) references etc. As usual with Tarantino in doing this alone you are missing the point. The films work in their contrasts, conflicts and copies, not only their references and stories.

"Grindhouse audiences are seldom sated by blood and nudity alone; they also
want to see ageing actors crawling on their stomachs across the
broken-glass-strewn floors of scripts they would have snubbed in their
heyday"
Tim Lucas - Sight and Sound - June 2007

Stuntman Mike (Kurt Russell) is a relic, just like those before him, think pretty much the whole cast in Pulp Fiction Vince Vega (John Travolta) and Jules Winnfield (Samuel L. Jackson) are killed on contemplating a way out of their Tarrantinoverse, Butch Coolidge (Bruce Willis), the boxer is trying to settle down with his partner. Jackie Brown (Pam Grier) is trying to give up a life of drug smuggling. In Death Proof it is no different. In Warrens bar, the outsiders Dov and Omar mock Mike, "Dude fucking cut himself falling out of his time machine."

Stuntman Mike is trying to interfere in the world of women, the world as it is, outside the Tarantinoverse. Mike's only way to get a thrill and stay alive is to run them down in his death proof car, it keeps him in the world. Outside of the car Mike is the weak, vulnerable nobody than those outside the Tarantinoverse see him to be. The two parts of Death proof show this. The first part is within Mike's world, Warren's bar (where Tarantino pours the drinks and makes the rules) the girls, despite their initial attitude seem based in Mike's time, they need help, Pam (Rose McGowan) asks for a ride home and Warren sets her up with Stuntman Mike who eventually kills all the girls with his death proof car. Mike is left with minor injuries and gets away with the crime. Part one is the grindhouse. In part two, the girls are out there again: the lips, the legs, the feet. They seem so close to Mike, as if they are offering themselves to him.

Part two of Death Proof is in the real world, unfortunately for Mike the women hold the power. This is not Mike's world anymore. Where's Warren when you need him. When Mike enters his car he is death proof. In the second segment of the film, Zoe Bell, the stunt woman attacks Mike in his death proof car, she can ride the car strapped to its outside. The women can drive like men, the women can fight like me, they can do Mike's job better than him. Once Mike's out of the car he's a dead man, no longer death proof, no longer in control, stuck and startled in the real world. A creature of his time leaves death by the women his only option. Mike enters the real world in 2007 as a dead man. The reality of the situation is compounded by the fact that the stuntwoman Zoe Bell, who is playing herself in Death Proof, was Uma Thurman's stunt double in Kill Bill, reality has truly caught up with Mike, this time it's real. One day time catches up with you, you're not 15 anymore, not a movie star, this is the real world, get out of the movies!

How Many More Mistakes?

2008-11-17T19:20:00.021Z

Film: Quantum of Solace (Marc Forster, 2008)

Watched: October 31st 2008

Where: Gaumont Parnasse, Paris

The James Bond films have been changing of late and I don't mean in personnel from Brosnan to Craig. Failure, mistakes and mistrust are at their heart. Not in the Cold War sense, but amongst the so called allies. The villain vs Bond is not the centre stage, instead it is M's decision making. In The World is Not Enough (1999, Michael Apted), it is M that falls for Elektra King's (Sophie Marceau) plan and places herself, the mission and the world in jeopardy. In Die Another Day (2002, Lee Tamahori), it is her that hires Miranda Frost (Rosamund Pike) to check on Bond when she is working for the bad guys. Not one to learn from these mistakes she is the one who hires Vespa (Eva Green) to look after Bond despite Vespa being blackmailed in Casino Royale (2006, Martin Campbell). In Quantum of Solace it is her personal body guard that is found to be a member of the secret criminal organisation, Quantum. M's peers and allies are involved with Quantum and at times she mistrusts those who are her true allies. Whilst I remember the odd run in between Bernard Lee's and Robert Brown's M and Bond, the old Ms never called it wrong. Maybe those were different times and now one is allowed to make a mistake, or three. Like we have a Bond for our times perhaps we also have an M for our times to go with him.

The world of Bond is more ordinary than ever before. The villains blend in to their surroundings, they are more like eccentric CEOs and entrepreneurs than Assassins, and utopian dreamers. They are the villains of the cinema of Bush era politics. They are simple blackmailers and bomb makers rather than entertaining side stories. Perhaps this is because the Bond films have always been a slightly late to market mirror on the world. This is why the last two Bond films closely resemble those of Timothy Dalton played out at the end of the economic boom and the start of recession. The '80s ethos, music and fashion and politics of that time of Dalton's Bond very much mirrors the world today. Like Dalton, Craig's Bond is simple, pared down and blunt. Unlike Dalton, Craig's version of Bond is on drink, drugs; a step away from rehab and breakdown, more so than in Licence to Kill (1989, John Glen). I suppose this must be par for the course for secret agents these days, but then that's Bond, he is always the man of our times, it's what keeps him going and us interested in his stories.

Quantum is also the first Bond that is officially a sequel to the previous Bond, as usual James Bond is late to market. Sadly it seemed that few people were prepared to pair up Casino Royale with Quantum so we could watch it as the single four hour bond film that it really is. In the end we ended up with one slightly too long Bond and one slightly too short Bond. There is also something enjoyably Kitanoesque about Craig's Bond. The way he intentionally, bluntly and silently does the ridiculous with every intent to die and take everyone with him. However, unlike Kitano who always dies in a pool of blood, a hail of bullets, explosions or whatever else, Bond being Bond walks away.

Whilst Quantum is nothing new it has some great touches in the way Bond attempts to expose the bad guys. In particular the scene when he intercepts their communications at the opera causing them all to expose themselves as victims of his camera phone. This is a great Bond moment, a huge set piece coupled with a great bit of product placement. Like wise Bond getting smashed on the plane, drink after drink. No terrorists, no bad guys, no jumping out at 40,000 feet, this is our James Bond.

My favourite thing about Quantum is that whilst the story concludes all to nicely where it started at the beginning of Casino Royal, you still feel that the bigger picture is left unresolved and just like the classic Cold War Bonds the enemy is ever present. However, this time that enemy is the next big shot CEO bidding for government contracts, he is advisor to the PM, an American Diplomat for peace, a leading political figure in a friendly government. The enemy is there but so far he has yet to play his full hand, something S.P.E.C.T.R.E. was not the greatest at. My final feeling is that the fate of M is our fate as a viewer. When will there be a consequence for her actions and what will this mean?

W. - The Man Maketh the Movie

2008-11-17T16:27:00.021Z

Film: W. (Oliver Stone, 2008)

Watched: October 30th 2008

Where: Gaumont Parnasse, Paris

I did not think I'd have much to say about W, but I've ended up proving myself wrong. My initial impression of W. was that I was not sure why it was made when it was, or what it was supposed to say but maybe now I'm beginning to understand. The most controversial thing in W. is George Bush (Josh Brolin) the man, you actually begin to like him, feel for him and put yourself in his shoes... Perhaps it's because one expects something stronger and more controversial from an Oliver Stone picture, about telling a story otherwise dismissed. Not only that but even his technique (mixing real footage in with his story - or "truth" in with the "fiction") looks and feels a little unremarkable these days. Maybe it has been this way for a while and I've just not watched as much Oliver Stone as I have thought. However, one thing that is not missing in W. is that it feels truly American, as least as true as it can feel to someone from outside that society. W. feels like an American film, telling an American story about an American family that affects America.

W. looks at the three families that George W. Bush belongs too, his blood relations, the church and his political advisers. Whilst perhaps it is his father George Bush Sr (James Cromwell) and his blood relations that steals more scenes than anyone from the families the two remaining ones are equally important in the effect they have on Dubya's life. Bush is not as stupid as he is often shown to be, but he is not from the same stock as his father and this is something we and he are reminded of throughout the film. Bush feels like a failure in his Father's eyes, in his youth being bailed out of prison, helped out of the airforce and given opportunity after opportunity, all of which he spurned. Life for Bush changes a little with marriage, he becomes more settled, his wife, Laura (Elizabeth Banks) is a good influence on him and he makes more moves to find his place in the world. Bush also watches his father's continuous rise in the family business (politics) - helping out as campaign manager due to brother Jeb's (Jason Ritter) unavailability, as his father makes it all the way to president. Bush then watches Jeb enter the family business of politics and with it the accolades he gets from his father. Dubya then finds another family, that of the church. He becomes a born again, beats his battle with alcohol and decides it is his destiny to enter the family business too, much to the dislike of his father, who wants to focus on his other son, Jeb's career. This does not stop Bush Jr and he runs for Governor of Texas whilst Jeb runs for Governor of Florida. Bush Jr does himself no favours with his father again when he decides to run for president after an instruction from God. The family (Bush Sr) were all expecting Jeb to run for President, not George. They do not believe he will win. The rest there as they say is history.

The third family of Bush is the one we know all too well, his advisers. The frightening gollumesque Dick Cheney (Richard Dreyfuss) or Vice as he is called by Bush. His lovely spin doctor with him from day one of his political career who grows increasingly evil as his power increases. Not forgetting cameos from Condoleezza Rice (Thandie Newton) and poor old Colin Powell (Jeffrey Wright). The plotting of W and its skips in time work really well as we see how Powell and Cheney's relationship changes from the first Gulf War to the second where we see both of their true faces.

Perhaps W. is controversial after all, we are all used to seeing the public George Bush, his army of advisers, the rhetoric, the stumbles and the Iraq war. I think Oliver Stone felt there was more to say than just making another Michael Moore style inquisition into Bush and his cronies (Iraq, Oil, war on terror, etc). What we did see that was new is how much Bush wanted to be his own man, to make up for his past and to do something good, to be a man of the people. We also see his frustration at his failure of not being himself as President, taking advice and guidance from those with different ambitions to his own. W is a little bit of a frustrating film, there are great performances all round (especially from Brolin and Dreyfuss), a familiar story with a few new twists and turns outside of the established Bush story. However, there is something unsatisfying about W, why was it made now and for what purpose? Maybe we are missing the point and that this story is for another film. Somehow W. feels like There Will Be Blood (Paul Thomas Anderson, 2007), what with the oil, and family difficulties, certainly some fun could be had reading one as an allegory of the other. It would have been fun to watch Bush Sr. beat his son to death when he decided to run for President though! Perhaps we are disappointed because there is no conspiracy about George W. Bush, perhaps that is the missing story of controversy and conspiracy from Oliver Stone.

It's how you remember it that counts

2008-10-19T15:03:00.025+01:00

FILM: Be Kind Rewind (Michel Gondry, 2008)
Watched: 18th October 2008
Where: On TV

I had to wait at least a week to write this review and unlike some of the other reviews, this time it really pays off. For this review it will be what I remembered that counts, not what actually happened. Really I should be making my own 20 minute video remake of the film, sadly as I only know how to write, this will have to do! Be Kind Rewind is a simple tale, Mr. Fletcher owns a dilapidated video shop that is about to be pulled down. He needs to find a lot more money then he has to save it. Mr. Fletcher's video shop lives on the legend that a famous Jazz artist, Fats Waller once lived in the same building. Seeing the end of the road, Mr. Fletcher gives things one last go and decides to do some research into what makes a successful video shop (DVD and put everything into two genres, action and comedy, if you must know). In his absence he leaves his co-worker, Mike in control of the shop with the instruction to keep his friend Jerry out. Jerry has other ideas and after a night of sabotaging the local power plant (as it messes with his mind) he barges into the store in a magnetised state and causes all the videos to be erased. When one of Mr. Flectcher's long term customers, Miss Falewicz asks to rent Ghostbusters, Jerry and Mike, unable to locate another VHS copy are left with no alternative and decide to re-make the movie themselves using their memories of the film and the details from the cover. The film is seen by Miss Falewicz's relative and his friends and they love it so much they come back and ask for more films like this. As more films get made their popularity increases and Mike and Jerry add a local girl from the laundrette Alma to their cast (they need a female lead). To save time and make more money they then invite their customers to appear in their remade (or sweded) films. Unfortunately the films become too popular and the "evil" copyright lawyers take all their profits and destroy all the sweeded films and the video shop is doomed. As a last heroic action they decide to make their own documentary about the legend of Fats Waller as a celebration of the town. The documentary is to be shown on the night of the video shop's destruction, making a fitting end to the film. At the end of the film all but the memory of the store is gone, even the graffiti advert is graffitied over.

The joy of watching films, well, of experiencing most things, is not in the experience itself, but in sharing it with others. Sticking just with films, the discussion afterwards is what brings the film to the fore and what you end up with is a collection of scenes, images, quotes and sounds in your head which is your memory of the film. Whether or not any of those memories correspond to how the film actually was is a different matter altogether. Eventually your memory of the film becomes the film itself and if you share it with friends it can become your shared memory, it doesn't matter if that's how it really happened or not. Be Kind Rewind tells this story in two ways, the manufactured memory of the story of Fats Waller, in the end some of it was real, some made up and some nobody knows anymore but eventually, it gets passed as the truth - hence the documentary of his life in the film contains all these shared memories plus a couple of good bits that would have made his whole life more interesting. The same with the sweded movies, they are just a collection of our memories of the movies, the big scenes, the trailers, the retold stories of your friends, family and colleagues of their favourite films. The important thing about the sweded movies, Alma tells us, is that they last no more than 20 minutes since we can't remember more than that anyway. I suppose the 20 minutes most of us will remember from be kind rewind is the sweded movies, the rest we just kind of forget.

The other appeal is to those who are already out there making their fansites, fan movies, fan interpretations etc. These days sweded movies are everywhere online, some of which are real fan works, some which are virals (I suppose it all dates back to the good old days of the Blair Witch Project for the Internet side of things) and some which are a bit of both. In the end do we really care where these pieces come from? We also have the joy of the corporate lawyer having all the VHS tapes of the sweded movies crushed for copyright infringement and passing them a fine of billions of dollars and the threat of thousands of years of jail time. Nice to see the copyright debate thrown up in a major US movie and the heavy handed tactics put in place. I wonder who would be suing who on all those sweded movies on youtube. (Well I suppose those are the official ones!) The Be Kind Rewind lawyers, the kids making the video or the MPAA, it would make an exciting endlessly revolving lawsuit.

Maybe Gondry's film works too well in its imitation of the sweded/home movie style it takes on. When is a home movie like this not a little disjointed, a little silly and ending up with a little of everything? Yes, Be Kind Rewind has its 20 minutes of fame but that fame can't exist without the rest of the film, which for me, only adds to the charm. The simplistic plot and almost one dimensional characters, yes they are needed, how can you have proper character development in a sweded film? Really you just need a selection of set pieces (think when Homer Simpson tries to make his own film, it has all those ingredients but in reality it's a horrible mess) a great soundtrack and something to remember. After all, it's how you remember it and what it means to you that matters in the end. Be Kind Rewind is the joys of watching pan and scan VHS on low grade 20" CRT set, the joys of childhood and of repeat viewings. No BlueRay, no 5.1 surround sound and a whole lot of memories, just how the director never intended!

3 Fridays, 3 French Films Part 3: Summer Hours

2008-10-18T21:02:00.015+01:00

Film: Summer Hours (Olivier Assayas, 2008)
Watched: July 18th

Where: Renoir Cinema

Summer Hours makes for a great conclusion to the three films about how we have such a lack of control about how our lives and the lives of others are viewed after their time. The three films are also about family and the situation you inherit. Angel was the grocer's daughter who wanted to make her mark with words. Slimane wanted to leave something behind for his family so they could make something on their own terms. In Summer Hours we have the story of a modern upper middle class family spread apart from each other by work. More specifically we look at the power and context of things, Angel's books, celebrated and forgotten, Esme's masterpieces of suffering, Slimane's food and restaurant bringing everyone together again to give them something that is uniquely theirs in an expanding world. In Summer Hours it is art and antiques at the centre stage as objects as well as their place and our place in a global world.

It's Hélène's 75th birthday and her now grown up family complete with grandchildren jet in from near and far to come together for their annual family reunion. Hélène knows her time in the world is coming to an end and wants to make the necessary arrangements with her children for her estate and the many precious artifacts in her possession from a life spent with artists. Her children hate to discuss this with her. Most of the real action takes place after Hélène's death, as her children, not having taken their mother's advice, try and decide what to do with their inheritance. The debate is on two sides, do the siblings share the items between them or do they sell them off? Frédéric (the only one of the three to remain in France) believes they should keep the house and art to leave as a legacy for the children and for all the memories that they had there together and will have there in the future. The rest of the family are not in agreement, the youngest sibling Jérémie living and working in Asia (he wants to progress his career, that's where the action is), their sister Adrienne a designer in New York again prefers to sell as she's hardly ever in France. Much to Frédéric 's dismay they decide to sell and for tax purposes to donate much of the art to the Musée d'Orsay. There are three endings to the film, the first is Hélène's long time housekeeper taking what she thinks is an unremarkable vase (which is actually rather valuable) when offered something from the house. The second takes place at the Musée d'Orsay when we see the disinterested reception of some of the Hélène's furniture by the public and also the all the many items in the museum's archive and restoration sections (normally unseen by the public). The third and final ending is that of the soon to be sold house. Frederic's daughter throws a huge party there for her friends and the camera follows them lovingly through the house as it once more takes in some happy family memories, most probably for the last time. Frederic's daughter takes her boyfriend to a hidden spot in the grounds of the house that only someone who had spent happy times there would know. The film ends with the happy scenes of the house party.

Like the other two movies in this set of three we see how once something moves from the private space into the public the perceptions of it can be different. The desk is a functional and beautiful object in Helene's home but when it moves into the museum it becomes just another object of many with no memories for those who view it. Likewise the memories of the house and the house party are different for Frederic's daughter to that of the other party goers, she has her own private space, to everyone else it's just a big old house. In contrast when the housekeeper takes the vase when she leaves Helene's house for the last time to her it is just a beautiful vase that she always loved, for the memories it gave her as much as for the vase itself. Unbeknown to her the vase was also a valuable item which could have easily been a museum piece to be forgotten and ignored at the Orsay along with the rest of Helene's collection. Like the house and the collection the collaborators must also give up their film and move it in to the public space for it to be celebrated or forgotten. However, Summer Hours finishes on a positive note in that the personal memory and significance of something will never be lost if it truly means something to you, something that is true of Slimane's restaurant, his family and his guests who turned out, something that is up for debate in Angel's books.

3 Fridays, 3 French Films Part 2: Couscous

2008-10-18T17:00:00.016+01:00

Film: Couscous (Abdel Kechiche, 2007)

Watched: 11th July 2008

Where: Renoir Cinema

Slimane has worked hard all his life, working in a shipyard to support his families, his first family and his new family. At sixty years old manual work is tough; life is tougher still when new generations of migrant workers who work faster and for less take the place of older migrant workers. What really matters to Slimane and who really understands him? I suppose that is the main theme of the film but maybe it says a little more about a desire to have something that is ours, something that cannot be taken away. After finding out that he is likely to be out of a job and that his family does not really understand him, Slimane decides to do something that matters to him, to bring things back around to how he thinks they should be. He decides to take his redundancy and use the funds to convert a boat in to a couscous restaurant with the help of Rym, the daughter of his new partner and owner of the hotel in which he lives.

Couscous sets itself up so we can see the difficult situation Slimane finds himself in, his family prefer to argue and only calm down at the dinner table to eat amazing couscous made by Souad, Slimane's ex-wife. Slimane prefers to eat alone in his tiny hotel room, however Rym likes to keep him company and support him. As the film builds, it is Rym who truly believes that Slimane can make his restaurant a reality and helps him out with the things he finds difficult. Cue the (comic) scenes where Rym and Slimane go to the chamber of commerce and the banks to try and get the necessary planning permission and funding to get the new restaurant afloat, with Rym playing his business assistant, making his business plan, and trying to look the part in only the way someone slightly out of their depth can manage. Slimane doesn't open up much in the film, though we can see his frustration and shyness, though from his ideas for the restaurant we feel what really matters to him, having his whole family round him, new and old, all together, all happy, all with a part to play. Slimane feels awkward in the hotel when invited to his partner's room, he feels lost when his sons come to visit and say he should go "back to the old country" now that he's retired/unemployed and useless to the family.

The film comes to a climax with the opening of Slimane's restaurant. His family (old) are preparing the food to be heated and served for the grand opening. The old boat has been transformed thanks to Rym's endeavor, a prime space has been reserved for one night only and everything is falling into place. Everyone who knows Slimane is playing a part for the opening and everyone wants to be there except for his new partner who feels she will be made unwelcome as Slimane's first family disapprove of their relationship. When it comes to the crunch the truth comes out, Couscous seems to show that everyone has their place in the world. Slimane's family turn out for him, all the guests turn up, the band from the hotel where Slimane stays play their hearts out, how could Slimane fail to fulfil his dream? Well, someone stole the couscous... Slimane's son Hamid is in trouble as the woman he is having an affair with is a guest at the opening of the restaurant, in a selfish panic he drives away unseen with all the couscous in the boot. The consequences are two fold: we see the truth of Hamid, he is deceitful, we see the truth in the rest of Slimane's family and friends, they all come together to try and make his mark on the world a reality, they stall the guests with drinks and music and dance as Slimane goes off on his moped in search of the grain! Even Slimane's new partner gets in on the act, going back to her hotel to make up a new batch of couscous even though she doesn't trust her cooking. As Slimane goes searching for Hamid, Souad and the couscous, his moped is stolen by a gang of youths. Slimane runs himself to death chasing the moped and the film ends. Slimane gets what he wanted, not that he's around to know it. His truth, that his life will be the death of him, is made real. What is also made true is that Slimane has left his mark on the world and his family. He has left them a restaurant and also the truth that they can come together and make something special.

3 Fridays, 3 French Films. Part 1: Angel

2008-10-12T17:50:00.019+01:00

Film: Angel (Francois Ozon 2008)

Watched: 4th July 2008

Where: Cine Lumiere

Back at the end of July I had the pleasure of watching the following films: Angel (Ozon, 2007), Couscous (Kechiche, 2007) and Summer Hours (Assayas, 2008) on successive Fridays. Despite different styles and stories they form an interesting trilogy together about the legacy we leave on the world vs the legacy we try to leave on the world. What does it mean to try and leave something behind and what control do we have over it? Can this legacy be preserved or is it solely in the hands of time and others? The first film of the three is Francois Ozon's Angel.

"What matters to me is being able to create in the here and now. Will my work survive the test of time? I don't ask myself that question, it would paralyze me. Art can cross centuries, but it's also made for immediate consumption. I can relate to Angel's sense of urgency, her drive to create. Her pragmatism gets her out of her social condition. Her art is in service to her life. It allows her to buy her mansion, surround herself in luxury, get the man she loves and support him financially." (Francois Ozon on his website)

Angel is the story of a young writer who lives in the world of the melodrama she creates (or that creates her). The film is shot as a parody/homage to such melodramas, think a little touch of Sunset Boulevard peformance, complete with a cheesy score, hilarious back projection montage scenes and no end of romantic clichés. Angel Deverell wants to be a somebody, a rich lady who lives in Paradise House with servants and the love of her life. However, Angel Deverell is a sickly school girl writing in her bedroom, an outsider, a grocer's daughter (Shades of Maggie Thatcher anyone?). The film opens with Angel out in the snow looking through the gates to Paradise House. Angel is a master of fantasy, writing about a world she has no real experience of (opening champagne with a corkscrew, child birth etc.) in fact she has almost no life experience outside of the family business and her servant aunt's tales from from Paradise House. By some fantastic miracle Angel's books become a roaring success, they are adapted into plays and she becomes the toast of the town. However, what is any young woman without a man at her side, one who will complement her. After watching an adaptation of one of her novels, Angel meets Esme, a painter and it's love at first sight. Esma is Angel's opposite, he comes from a wealthy background, he tries to create something real in his art, not just capture what he is asked to. Esme's work goes largely unrecognised. Angel becomes obsessed with Esme and his paintings and eventually they marry and with all Angel's money from her novels they move in to Paradise house together, complete with servants and all the trappings. Angel has everything that she ever wanted, Paradise house is hers and is great again and she is married to the love of her life. Angel's dream turns sour, Esme has an affair, and later kills himself. After his death Esme is recognised as a great artist, Angel slips into obscurity - she even finds herself being interviewed about Esme's work after his death, nobody is interested in her novels anymore. One night Angel finds herself outside in the snow looking for her kitten and eventually dies from the cold.

What makes Ozon's film so great and original? The style of the film creates a continued uncertainty. We see everything how Angel imagines/sees it, through her rose tinted and innocent eyes. We have the link from her beginnings as a writer, sat in bed after catching a chill from being out in the snow by Paradise House, to her death from a chill chasing a cat in the snow outside Paradise House. To me it feels like Angel never leaves her bed, she ages but she never grows up. Her experiences never seem real, she gets what she asks for and realises what that means. She never really experiences anything but herself. Like film itself Angel's childhood dreams are trapped forever, she cannot truly grow up and what is left behind does not change, even in her dream she is born a nobody and dies a nobody. Her husband Esme also tries to escape the life he is born into, he chooses to live in poverty and to suffer in order to make his art, to go to war, to have affairs. He wants to feel what life is and not escape it.
Esme is born a somebody and after his death he is not forgotten. Esme is also trapped forever like film, he is unable to find real recognition until he has escaped the film by taking his own life much like his art.

Judging by many of the comments on this film it seems Ozon's work is a success, he has made a film for today about today and for those of us who love it, we see what Angel sees in Esme, a great artist. For those of us that loathe it, we see what the world sees of Angel once the dust has settled. Whilst Ozon says he is making something in the here and now it's also something that draws on his experience and love... I suppose if you prefer celebrity and blockbuster to cinema and its history then you will have no interest in Angel.

The Jason Bourne Travel Log

2008-07-13T19:34:00.009+01:00

Film: The Bourne Ultimatum (Paul Greengrass 2007)
Watched: 12th July 2008
Where: At home on TV

I'm still not sure if I'm a fan of the Bourne Trilogy, maybe it's because I'm an old fashioned 007 fan or maybe it's just cause these films are not as exciting and action packed as people would have you believe. It might also be because the whole trilogy shows what great city breaks I could be having rather than being sat at home in front of the TV... Oh well. Like the other two films in the trilogy the plot involves our lead Jason Bourne (Matt Damon) trying to find out who he really is, what he's been doing, and what exactly his job is supposed to be. It sounds like a typical day in the life really, thank goodness he's a secret agent and not some kind of 'clerk'. In Ultimatum we find out many of the answers to these questions. He finds out who he was and that his name's David Webb, nowhere near as cool sounding and impressive as Jason Bourne. He finds out that he signed up for the job of killing lots of people, that he chose to have his original identity wiped away despite being warned and that his life before was probably not quite as exciting as it is now. Just a little bit of Randal from Clerks sums up this film nicely,

"You sound like an asshole! Jesus, nobody twisted your arm to be here. You're here of your own volition. You like to think the weight of the world rests on your shoulder. Like this place would fall apart if Dante wasn't here... You know, that guy Jay's got it right, man. He has no delusions about what he does."

I think the trilogy would have been much more interesting if there was someone that gave it to him in plain English.

Anyway, we don't really watch the films for the plot so it was a shame that the story, location and action didn't seem to excite me as much as I'd hoped. The editing seemed to be too fast and jumpy (perhaps I'm getting old) so it never felt like he was actually in a real fight or a real car chase. I'm not sure why I didn't get more thrills from the set pieces, maybe they were just too clean and too well executed.

Anyway, here is the Jason Bourne travel map for those city break enthusiasts.

We have the fourth installment of the Bourne movies to look forward to in 2010, how well David Webb comes to terms with his place in the world will be interesting to see. I hope the Quickstop are hiring.

First Post

2008-07-13T19:20:00.001+01:00

This blog is just a way for me to comment, discuss and vent on various films I have been watching. There will be spoilers, randomness and the reviews and comments will come in many forms.