Versais-DeMauve

IT’S TIME! TO DESTROY! YOUR FAITH IN MUSIC!

When the most promising thing you see during a day of auditions for the World’s Most Self Important Singing Competition is a trailer for Step Up 4: Miami Heat, you know you’re in for a rough ride. But as the circus rolled into town to launch yet another year of Britain Does Karaoke it was clear that the “X Factor” looks set to remain as elusive as the Higgs boson.

A delay of over three hours outside the Echo Arena didn’t set the day up for the best of starts, and by the time the judges finally started to arrive for their walk of shame down the red carpet the crowd were more interested in resting their feet than indulging a faded pop sensation desperately clinging to the remnants of their fame. Or Louis Walsh.

Once (eventually) inside and seated, we were led through a chorus of appropriate reactions – Cheer! Wave! Boooooo! Be Shocked! – to be spliced into the footage later, along with a half-arsed rendition of Happy Birthday to Dermot before the judges once again deigned to grace us with their presence and words of godly wisdom.

First up to be thrown to the lions was one-time local drag artiste Chris Culligan. A good Cilla, passable Bublé and terrible Debbie Harry impression later he was sent home. More successful were so-squeaky-clean-it-hurt ensemble IT Girls, whose youthful enthusiasm and high kicks endeared them to the judges, if not the captive audience. After not-so-Spice Girl Geri Halliwell briefly pretended to be a cat, 16 year old Shannon from Dublin impressed Tulisa with her brand you can really buy into, reminding anyone who had somehow forgotten that this show really is all about the talent and not the potential profit. At all.

The day’s first big controversy came with Brummie 4-piece Sorority, who enthralled the audience with their second-song version of Candy Man but apparently left the judges cold. Despite the positive response from all behind them, the powers-that-be unsubtly instructed Gary and co. to deliver a “no” verdict. This was the beginning of the end as the crowd began to grow increasingly restless and lose patience with the endless make-up retouches and bad jokes from irritating as hell compère Ian Royce.

It was up to William ‘not Will.i.am just William’ to lighten the mood with a glorious rendition of “Queen Rhapsody or something like that” and Vietnamese student Jason who sidestepped some casual racism from Mr Barlow to deliver a really rather good take on RIP Whitney Houston’s I Have Nothing. But they and those who followed had to struggle to make an impression as the background chatter increased and an act almost had to start singing before the audience noticed Louis had finished getting his face fixed and we were ready to go on with the show.

Same Difference bred with Jedward to produce Little and Large, inventing a “new sort of rap” to haunt your darkest dreams.  Lovely 52 year old Linda wanted to win to get a gastric band for her cat, but despite getting her Liza on her Maybe This Time didn’t do enough to see her into the next round – while Geri’s non-ironic “your song choice was a little bit Cabaret”  comment earned her the award for best example of stating the bloody obvious.

Series regular Ashwin, who one day hopes to be as big as Cliff Richard, began with a respectably bad-interesting version of Garbage’s The World Is Not Enough, but with it being not quite enough of a car-crash was goaded into a much more mockable Cheryl Cole impression. As Geri repeatedly pleaded with him to not lose his cool (because, you see, last time he lost his cool, and they definitely didn’t want it to happen again) the crowd upped the ante with boos, jeers and cries of “fuck off!” directed at the former Queen of Ginger.

Things didn’t improve as Jonny James took to the stage. His cut-price Gaga went down alright, but by the time everyone had figured out if he was a girl or a boy and the judges had agonised over whether to send him through(they did, after an eternity) all interest had withered and died.  Mr Royce blurted increasingly desperate pleas for the audience to stay seated and not drift off to the loo or to find something more interesting (for example, watching paint dry), so it was lucky that local rapper Miss Styliee bounced on with just enough energy to prevent a full-blown revolt. Also known as Jade Jackson or “that one off of Don’t Tell The Bride”, her rapping style seemed to mystify the Music Experts who were leading the charade, with Tulisa feeling the need to emphasise her “someone who understands urban music” credentials, Gary and Louis admitting defeat and Gerri going on a bizarre rant before repeating the name of her former girl-group over and over like a broken record that needs a short sharp smack.

Accompanied by ever-growing groans of exasperation Jade was eventually given that all important ‘yes’ majority and the ded ‘appy Nikita flounced into view, channelling her inner Jennifer Ellison. First belting out a Peggy Lee number that failed to bring the crowd back on side, her next choice was Aerosmith’s camp classic I Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing but this potential highlight was immediately shot down by the producers and Louis helpfully suggested having a stab at Adele instead. Better, but still not good enough, and with the judges all but crying out for something truly inspiring to justify the already made ‘yes’ decision the big guns were brought out: a cover of everyone’s favourite Scouse Bird, Rebecca Ferguson.  

After the blessed relief of a 15 minute break we were back for more and raring to go and then… what’s this? Ian has some news for us. It seems that due to “technical difficulties” we will need to clear the arena. But moving us out and back in again to sort the problem would take about an hour and a half, and as there is a crowd of people outside waiting for the next session… yep, that’s right. Instead of coming clean and saying that they were running hours behind and had ballsed up big-time we got a “sorry you’re going to miss out on the other 9 acts, now we’re going to clear you from the arena. THANKS FOR COMING!”

After the delays, obvious contestant fixes, desperate pandering from the celebrity judges and tiresome demands to pretend we were enjoying it for the cameras this, naturally, did not go down too well.

And if this is representative of what’s to come then it’s once again time to despair at the future of music, television, and humanity.  

BRING BACK CHERYL COLE AND HER SOUL!

Always one to relish any opportunity to be contrary, I spent most of Light Night happily lurking in the dark, away from the bright lights and extended openings of the usual fare and opting for an alternative cultural experience…

First up was Live and Stuffing: an evening with Polly Morgan in which the country’s favourite taxidermist treated a 200-strong crowd of fans to a live demonstration of her craft, held in the suitably weird and wonderful Victoria Gallery and Museum.  After glugging a complimentary glass of wine and placing illicit bets on the number of fainters with a companion (total: 1, the cameraman, he’s ok), seats were taken, lights were dimmed and Polly began working her gruesome magic.

Working from a table in the middle of the room, a live video-feed was projected onto a screen behind her to allow the audience to get up close and personal with the fiddly, gory details as she worked on a Starling, talking us through the techniques, do’s and don’ts of taxidermy and answering questions from the audience. It was fascinating and educational to watch, and Polly seemed mostly at ease interacting with the spectators, even drawing a few morbid laughs from her Blue Peter style preparations (“here’s one I skinned earlier”). It was also a fairly uncomfortable experience, with the proceedings sometimes difficult to watch and every bone-cracking, eye gouging sound amplified by the microphone – but as Polly herself reflected, it gave a new appreciation for life and the way bodies work.

The remainder of my evening was spent deep under Lime Street, holding hands with strangers in complete darkness. Not quite as dodgy as it may sound – I was in fact on a ghost hunting expedition with the best local Paranormal Investigators in town: Night Vision Investigations.

 First up was a brief introduction to the history of our location (the former North western Hotel)and what to expect from the night and the equipment we would be using from our lovely hosts Vicky and June. Next, along with my fellow budding Ghostbusters, we ventured into the basement of the Head of Steam pub and then further down into an amazing labyrinth of rooms and passages resembling subterranean streets, rarely seen by the public.

After getting our bearings, torches were turned off and the fun began, as any lurking spirits were encouraged to make themselves known on any number of recording devices or by – quite spectacularly in one instance – throwing rocks at the wall.

Without relying on orchestrated scares (there’ll be no actors jumping out from dark corners on one of these tours) our guides allowed the location itself and the inherent fears of the participants to ramp up the spooky atmosphere, with a medium in tow to lead us to the hot (or as it were, cold) spots. And even though there was plenty of serious investigation going on the team remained friendly and approachable as well as professional throughout - there was plenty of laughter alongside the screams.

As a special taster for Light Night, this was a shorter 2-hour event that introduced us to the basics, but a normal investigation can last for 6 hours or more and allow everyone to get fully involved in the process (and have a whirl at the Ouija Board, if they wanted to).

It’s definitely not for anyone remotely afraid of the dark, but even total sceptics will find something to enjoy in the spectacular surroundings of this forgotten underworld. NVI hold regular events at different locations around the city – next up is at The Florrie – so if you feel brave enough check them out at www.nightvisioninvestigations.co.uk . Go on, I DARE you.    

Ahead of performing a live taxidermy demonstration, Polly answered some of my questions for an article on Liverpool Live:

In your own words, how would you describe what you do?

I make sculptures, drawings and installations from the bodies of dead animals, along with a few other materials.

If you could stuff a person, who would you stuff?

Why the ‘if’? I could stuff a person but I choose not to!

What do you think about Gunther von Hagens?

I think he makes engaging works on an educational level. I don’t consider it art.

What’s in your freezer?

All sorts of things. I have garden birds, rabbits, a lamb, a gannet and some ice cream.

What has been your biggest challenge to date? What challenges will you set for yourself next – what is your next step as an artist?

Every new show offers fresh challenges. I feel that a natural aspect of being an artist is to look back on your old work with contempt and want to disassociate yourself from it as far as you can. Every show I have is a reaction against the last and is a reflection of my urge to do much better.

Do you consider your work as “found art” or not?

No. I interpret ‘found art’ to be composed of objects that have seen no intervention from the artist, short of putting them on a plinth or choosing to exhibit them as ‘art’. I intervene at every step of the way.

Do you see animals as a material?

For me, when the animal dies it changes state; from animal to a material.

Do your works make good pets?

No, terrible ones. I like my pets to have character and energy in abundance. It also helps if they’re cuddly, which these aren’t.

Can I have one?

Sure, where do I send the invoice?

The Theatre where you will be appearing as part of Light Night was used to perform dissection and anatomy lectures in the past. Do you see your work as having the same kind of education –entertainment crossover? Do you consider yourself a performer? Educator? Artist?

Not a performer at all. This isn’t something I would usually do but I am making an exception for Museums at Night. I hope it will be educational, that’s all. Before I learned taxidermy I had no idea how it was done and would have welcomed an opportunity to see someone do it. I am an artist but I will not be creating a work of art on Friday, just showing others some of the things I have learned over the past 8 years.

The trailer for Tim Burton’s latest offering had quite a few fans’ tongues wagging. And worrying.

With a Barry White soundtrack, funky 1972 setting and barrage of wince-inducing one-liners, the stage seemed set for one of the director’s feared “bad movies” to sit alongside Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Alice in Wonderland. And being based on a cult American Soap Opera with rabid followers didn’t help much either.

 It was a great relief, then, to find that the trailer has got the tone of the film entirely wrong. Yes we have the zany characters, erratic hair don’ts and pastel colours of more family-friendly fare but like Edward Scissorhands this shiny surface is hiding a heart of serious darkness.

 This darkness is personified as Barnabas Collins (Johnny Depp), a 200-something vampire who emerges from the ground to help his ancestors save the family business and seek revenge on the lovelorn witch who cursed him into his undead state. Depp seriously gets his Nosferatu-on as he sinks his teeth (forgive me) into the scenery, the dialogue and the locals – regretfully munching his way through a team of construction workers and a gaggle of hippies to quench his thirst.

 Emerging in 1972 Maine, our gentleman-of-the-night moves back into the family home along with the last of his clan and entourage (including the wonderful Michelle Pfieffer, Chloe Moretz and Helena Bonham Carter), and immediately plots to regain the family fortune from nemesis Angelique (Eva Green, having so much fun she cracks herself up).

 Visually, the film comes across as a mashup of Burton’s own Sleepy Hollow and Casper, with dashes of Austin Powers, the remake of The Haunting and Dolores Claiborne thrown in for good measure, and the uniformly excellent cast have a whale of time bringing the setting to life. The jokes are played admirably straight, and given room to breathe in extended scenes that feel almost as if they would be more at home in a Wes Anderson flick – an early dinner scene is so painfully good you’ll almost be wishing that they don’t bring the supernatural in at all. The biggest laugh is decidedly local however, as Barnabas reminisces about his childhood in 18^th century Liverpool (guaranteed to provoke cheers from your fellow cinema-goers). Crucially, the laughter is tempered by Burton’s trademark grimness, given free reign to cast a Dark Shadow (again, forgive me) over proceedings – good people die, innocents are wronged and the baddies seem to be winning - and this balance of light and dark more or less comes across successfully.

 Some scenes are so dark, in fact, that you may well be questioning the 12A rating. With some of the violence graphic enough to leave an impression and enough sex (implied or otherwise) to bring on questions in the vein of (last one I promise) ‘what is that nice lady doing to that vampire, mummy?’, I really wouldn’t recommend this for younger kids.

 Not everything about the film quite works; the running time constraints leave little time to see the development of character relationships, lessening the impact of emotional payoffs, and cameos by Alice Cooper and Christopher Lee just plain don’t work. But small quibbles aside you’ll be dying for a sequel to broaden the scope, or even a new incarnation of Dark Shadows for TV, with Burton and Depp at the helm. 

Like a lesser cousin to Chan-Wook Park’s vengeance trilogy, I Saw The Devil (from the director of the brilliant A Tale of Two Sisters) is ultimately a failure on an emotional level but mostly great fun along the way. And the high-speed taxi stabathon is amazing.

That’s all.

Showgirls 3DD clip

LOOK AT HER FACE

The poor little Antichrist lamb is just misunderstood!

It’s a pretty-looking piece of film-making with brilliant acting and, surprisingly, one or two darkly hilarious moments. 

While watching everyone’s favourite lighthearted romantic comedy Mulholland Drive recently, cult hero Rena Riffel popped up and I immediately got excited (no, not in that way) as happens when anything Showgirls related drifts into view. A quick current-projects google later and I nearly had a heart attack of sheer joy to learn that Rena is making her own sequel Penny’s From Heaven coming soon to a theatre near you. 

While this is of course the best film-related news of the decade, this post is actually about Trasharella which a little further digging revealed to be Miss Riffel’s feature directing debut (alongside writing and staring duties). Having been seduced by the trailer and with an inherent love of all things trashy, I immediately ordered the DVD, and am pleased to report that its the most entertainingly ridiculous thing I’ve seen all year - in the best possible way.

The meandering plot, such as it is, concerns an aspiring actress (Riffel) and her transformation into her bin-bag wearing, magic-lipstick-and-stiletto-brandishing alter-ego Trasharella to combat the evil Hollywood Vampire. Along the way she encounters kidnapped starlets, adopts (and sings to) an abandoned barbie and has run-ins with a serial killer, a wacko therapist and the accordion-playing Vampire Himself (aka Count Smokula).

All this is lovingly played out to generally hilarious effect, with the minimal budget adding to the fun - if you’re going to watch it look out for a sinister black cat that had me actually crying with laughter.

It’s definitely not for everyone - those who need things like a tight script, production values and special FX to enjoy a movie should avoid - but if you enjoy campy, trashy independent film-making and have always wanted to see how to turn barbie into a lethal weapon, look no further…

[Side Note:]

I ordered the DVD (packed with special features, too!) from Rena Riffel’s website and was both surprised and delighted when Rena herself emailed to ask if I would like her to autograph it (of course I said yes). A few emails back-and-forth later and I can confirm that Rena, apart from being one of the best character actresses out there, is also a lovely person indeed!

 With the (wonderful) exceptions of Coraline and Piranha I’ve found myself mostly whelmed by the cinematic 3D “Real-D” experience, and wishing for the simpler days of trashy movies with those red and blue cardboard glasses and cheap cut-out thrills. 

Thankfully, after discovering this little bundle of joy I’ve been merrily 3D-ing up anything I could lay my hands on for the past few days. So obviously my first choice was that holy of holies, my jointfirstultimatefavouritemovieofalltime (sharing the honour with True Lies) SHOWGIRLS. A cornucopia of delicious excess in its original incarnation (and even better with the amazing VIP edition commentary) it reaches whole new levels of hilarity with an added dimension of boobness, darlin’.

With the wonderful Rena Riffel set to release her own sequel “Penny’s From Heaven” I’ll be lobbying the star-writer-director to release a special 3D edition (and lookout for a review of her last feature “Trasharella Ultra Vixen” coming soon).

After watching The Pool Scene at least a dozen times in a row I moved on to some good old HBO - with 3D Game Of Thrones and True Blood providing some much-needed eye candy. While they both actually worked really well in 3D - particularly Games which looked even more beautiful with the added depth perception - I admit that it was mostly to see John Snow and Eric and had to stop myself licking the screen. yum.

Lastly, after a marathon 16-hour file conversion I came to the conclusion that Inception really really should have been released in IMAX-3D. Next up will be an episode of Twin Peaks, and after that… answers on a postcard.

Nomi! <3

just because

om-nom-nom

Pamalama-ding-dong

A bit like Antichrist but with none of the mutilation, drama or suspense. 

Kirsten Dunst flails about with her baps out, Eric Northman (as he shall forever be known) refuses to take enough clothes off and Charlotte Gainsbourg puts down the scissors to whisper “sometimes, I hate you so much” every five minutes until the End Of The World.

Yawn.

Pretty planet, though.