Monday, 30 May 2011
Good gravy, adverts really piss me off. I mean, apart from being fed the same ones every single break (Heinz tomato ketchup and its excrutiating ditty, EDF Energy's 'Powering the 2012 Olymipcs' advert and Virgin Media's 'laptop use on the toilet' show being some of the most recent and annoying examples), the fact they keep interrupting the flow of what you're trying to watch. Adverts and televisions go hand in hand, they have done since the technology was invented, and as such things written for TV (like soap operas) do not suffer so much. In the few minutes between the first and second half of 'Spaced', for example, you don't think 'Oh bugger I've forgotten what they were on about! Who's he and what's he doing with those paint balls?' Films, however, are a completely different kettle of fish.
Films are written for the 'big' or 'silver' screen, a magical place where adverts and trailers are played before the main event and then there are two hours of complete, unadulterated celluloid awesomeness, aside from people throwing popcorn at you or spit roasting a pig on the back row. I mean, writers of these things have slaved away for frig knows how long crafting this cinematic experience for you with the idea that it will be shown to you as it is in their mind. But then it comes on TV. I wonder if Heywood Gould ever thought, 'What this dramatic scene, showing the characters' conflicting desires, needs is an advert. Yeah, preferably one that the audience has seen a ton of times, so they get really angry and pissed off. Then they won't be thinking about my work, yeah that'll be an improvement!'
I was watching Roger Donaldson's Cocktail (screenplay by Heywood Gould if you wondered where that name came from) t'other night for a few minutes. I say a few minutes because I'd missed the start, but really wanted to give it a go. I love Elisabeth Shue's work so why not give the film a go? I'll tell you why: just as I got into the swing of it, knew the characters a bit and really got interested in where the film was going IT WAS INTERRUPTED BY A BLOODY AD BREAK. I switched over immediately... There's enough competition for ratings out there making it hard to keep a viewer's interest without being put off by repetitive crap about products I really don't give a shit about at this moment in time.
It was like I was making love - dead romantic like - with rose petals, silky sheets and candles. I was completely lost in the act - transcendental joy - when Gordon Brown popped into the room screaming and hit me about the head with a cold, wet whale. It put me off a bit. I'd rather have a trolley load of nitro-glycerin forced up my bum and go for a trampoline sesh than watch these soul-destroying ads again, hence why I changed channel.
Seriously, respect the bloody film! Here's a list of suggestions (bearing in mind having no ad breaks at all wouldn't be financially viable and then there'd be no film whatsoever); have less ad breaks (obvious); have them at well-thought out points (for example, at the two points between the status quo and the confrontation and between the confrontation and resolution) so that the audience can reflect on an act, rather than just when there's a quiet bit; vary the adverts so they aren't like a hammer blow to the back of the head every time (although that should happen all the time). That's about it I think...
Sunday, 29 May 2011
I were thinking yesterday about the importance of not fronting. 'Fronting' or 'putting up a front' involves being/acting like something you are not or 'affecting a style different to your own' usually in order to impress. I wondered, then, whether being true to yourself could be called 'backing' or maybe, given the fact the truth is often hard to behold, 'backsiding'.
Please folks, for the sake of your own dignity and self-respect and for the sake of honesty everywhere, make sure you backside in life. People love you for who you are, not who you aren't, so why not backside?
On an unrelated and recently underused note, the song I have stuck in me head at the minute is George Strait's 'Amarillo By Morning'. Lovely!
Thursday, 19 May 2011
I feel really restless. Really bloody restless. I'm doing writing I'm not doing enough writing. I'm being proactive I'm not being proactive enough. I'm reading I'm not reading enough. I say hello, I get to know I say goodbye. I'm not sure who is here or who has stayed. I feel like I want to crawl out of my head.
That's not possible.
How's about some harmless escapism? Hmm, yeah a FILM would go down really well. The problem is, Hollywood will not do. Rowan Woods' Little Fish is on Film 4 as I write. I loved getting lost into the rabbit hole of desperate strangleholds, emotional taughtness and general not-here-ness. But the film's about halfway through. I can't join in now. I've missed the STATUS QUO. I'm dead picky about this.
Another film for the capitalist war machine (my amazon wishlist)... Well I hope this was worth the internet's time. Maybe HOLLYWOOD will have mercy on me.
Sunday, 1 May 2011
Liverpool FC, that is. Today they cruised comfortably to a 3-0 win over Newcastle, though their performance was not perfect, it must be admitted.
The first goal came thanks to Newcastle defender Danny Simpson's deflection, otherwise Tim Krul would almost definitely have saved it. The second goal came thanks to Luis Suarez going down pretty easily under pressure from Mike Williamson in the box. Penalty awarded, Dirk Kuyt continued his fine form by totally beating Krul and finding the back of the net. To be fair to Suarez here, though, he had 'good' opportunities to dive that he didn't take, so well done for being a sportsman. The third goal came from the aforemention Uraguayan after Dirk gave him the chance to score from up close.
One lad who'll have plenty to say about this is an ardent Newcastle supporter and close personal friend Arran who has just started writing for a NUFC blog. Check that out at www.nufcblog.co.uk