It’s Not The Size Of The Dog In The Fight, But The Size Of The Fight In The Dog…

Okay so here’s the deal. For SEVERAL days now I have been trying to compose something intelligible about the Olympics. I have started several drafts, updated countless results and profiled numerous athletes. But now, ten days in, I have come to the conclusion that attempting to write any kind of comprehensive or lucid account of the games whilst they are still ongoing is just shy of impossible. It’s not gonna happen. I just can’t do it. It’s all too much. There’s too much happening. It’s all too exciting. To be honest, I’m so enthralled I can hardly cope.

I’m just in awe of the whole thing. The stadium is magnificent. The enthusiasm is infectious. The pressure is on. The support is overwhelming. The competition is fierce. I’m totally enamoured with the athletes. All of ‘em. The determination. The dedication. The ridiculous physiques. The hours and months of training we didn’t see. The glorious wins and the crushing losses. The favourites and the dark horses. The injuries, the disqualifications, the record breakers, the close calls. They’re better than me. They’re younger than me. I want to see their twitter pictures. I’m even finding myself coming close to emotion at every medal ceremony I witness. Doesn’t matter what anthem is being played, if the medallists are welling up, I’m playing too. I do realise what a ridiculous person I am, but damnit it’s all just so feckin’ inspirational.

Will, Kate and their ever-present third wheel, everyone’s favourite royal, Harry the rascal, have been in attendance at several events, as has David Cameron. Paul McCartney was at track cycling. Bill Gates was at the tennis semi-final. David Beckham has been at the football. Bar Rafaeli cheered on Phelps at the swimming. Even Michelle “Tha Bomb” Obama came over to continue telling everyone to quit being so damn fat.

But this is all so new and unexpected. Three months ago I was wholeheartedly agreeing with my London-based cousin who ranted about the commuting issues she was expecting to face when the hysteria descended. In January, my beloved Christmas ads were replaced with patriotic, Olympic hype from across the Irish Sea. As the Budweiser Clydesdales were put out to pasture for another year and the Coca Cola lorries disappeared over the snowy horizon, we now had Fairy telling us that it takes 20,000 dishes to build an athlete, Ariel telling us that it’s the colours you came in that matter, British Airways commentating an international luggage race through the airport and Usain Bolt racing a bearded dude through London on behalf of Visa.

“This is all we’re gonna be hearing about now for the rest of the year.” I griped.

I hadn’t cared about Beijing in 2008 and I didn’t care now.

I do like this ad for Asics though… 

Except somewhere, sometime, somehow, I kiiiiinda started to care. And then I started to care a little more. And then it was July and I started to get excited. And then it was time for the opening ceremony and I nearly lost the whole run of myself with enthusiasm. I sat through the whole thing. It was amazing.

Since then, I have been riveted. My life has all but come to a standstill. I’m living in constant fear that I might miss something big. It’s really no way/the only way to be living. I’ve become a proper inexperienced expert, with an opinion on how everyone’s doing despite actually knowing jack shit about anything I’m talking about. You can expect to see evidence of this in the upcoming paragraphs.

The other day my brother and I were watching the Kayak Slalom. I’ve never watched a kayak competition before in my life.

“How’s yer man doing?”

“Eoin Rheinisch? He’ll qualify but he’ll not be in the top ten.”

“What’s his time?”

“1.89 something. Slow enough.”

Another evening was spent watching weightlifting with my dad… Yeah, weightlifting.

“How much does this guy have to lift now?”

“78KG.”

“And he’s failed twice so far? Nah. He’ll not do it. That left leg’ll get him again.”

“He might, you know. He almost had it last time.”

Point being? I’m in. I’m on board. I’ve got Olympic fever and I’m loving every second of it. I’m watching athletics and swimming and archery and equestrian and canoeing and weightlifting and diving and gymnastics and rowing and sailing and cycling and judo and volleyball. I’m watching it all. Except for handball. Handball is poxy.

Ireland have a team there. Course we do, bless our little cotton socks. We haven’t done all that tremendously well so far. But God loves a trier so we’ve sent over no less than 65 rosy Irish cheeks to have a go. Poor aul Grainne Murphy didn’t have a great time in the aquatic centre, losing her first race and later deciding to pull out. Leixlip canoeist, Eoin Rheinisch was doing fierce well there for a while but missed a gate in the slalom semi-finals, ending his Olympics in a matter of seconds. Aileen Morrison was our hardcore triathlete. She came 43^rd. Well done.  Kieran Behan, Ireland’s only competing gymnast (who, let the records show, was born in Laaaandan) was done after qualifications. Joanne Cuddihy placed 16^th out of 21 in the 400m semi-finals. As I type, Derval O’Rourke has managed to qualify for the 100m hurdles semis tomorrow. Even back in the RTE studios they’re like, “It’s the first time she’s run sub 10 seconds this season. This race isn’t about winning for Derval. It’s about breaking those barriers for herself.”… Well, good for her, but she’s currently 16^th overall and up against faster women like American runner Lolo Jones and Australian Sally Pearson.

Some of our Irish team. Clockwise (L-R): Swimmer, Grainne Murphy. Canoeist, Eoin Rheinisch. Gymnast, Kieran Behan. Sailor Annalise Murphy. 400m Joanne Cuddihy. 100m hurdler Derval O’Rourke and triathlete, Aileen Morrison.

Still though, while we unreservedly support every man and woman competing in green over there, we can’t be too disappointed. We never had our eggs in those baskets anyway. Nah. We don’t breed swimmers, gymnasts or sprinters here in Ireland. There are three types of athlete bred up in here. The first is the racehorse (Shergar, Rock of Gibraltar). The second is the GAA star (DJ Carey, Davey Fitzgerald, Jack O Se). And the third… Well, the third is boxers. We may not cycle all that brilliantly or have the best archers in the world but by gosh darn it we can give ya a good slap. Kevin McBride, Sam Storey, Barry McGuigan, Steve Collins, John Duddy, Bernard Dunne. Champions.

With this in mind, most of our eggs lie in the baskets of just four people. Paddy Barnes, Michael Conlan, John Joe Nevin and one miss Katie Taylor. All four Irish boxers made it through to their quarter-final matches.

Nevin, Barnes, Conlan and Taylor

Last night John Joe Nevin secured Ireland’s first medal, thrilling a nation. Bronze is his. He beat Mexican, Oscar Valdez in his quarter final bantamweight match. And he looked fuckin’ wrecked when it was over. He’ll fight again for silver on August 10^th.  Also, can I just point out one thing about John Joe Nevin; He boxes for Cavan boxing club (wayhey!!)

But yeah, these are Ireland’s medal hopes. Katie Taylor is Ireland’s own Jessica Ennis. Our face for the Olympics and our biggest bet for gold. She is the current Irish, world and European women’s boxing champion. Back home in Bray she’s been known to spar with fellow Olympic boxer, Paddy Barnes. She was also in that awesome ad for Lucozade sport with Tinie Tempah and Travis Barker. And she’ll fight today. A win guarantees Ireland’s own little fighting machine a bronze medal. It also advances her to the semi-final. A win there guarantees her a silver medal and advances her to the final on Thursday evening where a win would, of course, earn her the coveted and illusive gold.

Here she is showing what she’s made of in a spar against Paddy Barnes: 

Aside from the excitement of the possibility of a medal for Ireland, so much has been going on lads! Have ya seen much of it so far? It’s been treeeeemendous!

The first event that got me all psyched up was the Men’s Synchronised 10m Platform last Monday. Wee Tom Daley was diving with his partner Pete Waterfield (not Waterman, totally different guy). They finished in 4^th place after a bad final dive.

I love Tom Daley. Not in that paedo “phwoar” way that hoards of teenage girls or the pervs that work for Heat magazine do (he was Torso of the Week last week. He’s 18 lads. Don’t be sinners.). Nah, I like him more in a “aw, look at him there! I just wanna pinch his cheeks and carry him home in my pocket,” sort of a way. I watched that documentary on BBC a couple of weeks ago, ‘Diving For Britain’. It was about Tom and his mission towards the Olympics. Now, I don’t cry at movies (cold, black heart, remember?), but I cried watching this documentary. I know, I’m so embarrassed. BUT, like it featured his dad who was his greatest supporter and friend and went to every training session and every competition. He died last year from cancer of the brain. The documentary captured his whole illness and lickle Tom’s reaction. I defy you to watch this and not cry as a dying man talks about his fear that he might not get to see his son compete at the Olympics. My brother said this: “You’re on his twitter now? You do realise that he’s a poncy little wanker, don’t you?” But I don’t. I think he’s a lovely and extraordinarily talented young buck. He’s diving next in the Men’s 10m Platform individuals on August 10^th.

Awwww, Tom Daley. Individual 10m platform. August 10 guys.

The swimming events took place this week too. They. Were. Awesome!!! One name dominated the whole show. Phelps. Now a former swimmer, these games saw Phelps tally up his number of Olympic medals to 22, making him the most decorated Olympian of all time. I mean, the guy is just ridiculous. Thank God he’s giving up. It was like Formula 1 back when Michael Schumacher owned the whole thing. It was less exciting because you just always knew that he was gonna win it. Apparently Michael Phelp’s arms, when spread out, measure 2m across. He’d wrap ‘em around most of us twice! You also have to give love him for that time he was pictured smoking a bong. Oh Mickey, you naughty little scamp! Olympic swimmers don’t smoke weed! Silly pup!

The greatest Olympian of all time, Michael Phelps, in and, uh, out of the pool…

Friday saw the start of athletics. What the Olympics is really all about. I was all over the Women’s Heptathlon. You know why. She’s been the most prominent face of Team GB. She’s everywhere. She was on the cover of Cosmo this month. She’s staring out from magazine pages as the face of Olay. Yeah, I’m talking about Jessica Ennis. I’m not sure any athlete competing in the games right now has had as much pressure on them to achieve as this chick.

Before last week I didn’t really know what a heptathlon was. Matter fact, turns out I’ve been pronouncing it wrong my whole entire life. Hep-A-thlon. No. Hep-TA-thlon. Anyways, so turns out it consists of 100m hurdles, 200m sprint, 800m sprint, high-jump, long-jump, javelin throw and shot put. Guys? That’s seven things!

Jessica Ennis has been heavily publicised this year. She’s had the whole of Great Britain behind her. I’ve been behind her too. We feel like we know her. She’s from Sheffield. She’s got a dog called Myla, a fiancé called Andy and reckons she makes a mean lasagne. She’s relatable. Except get the fuck with that! Jessica Ennis only seems like the rest of us. In reality, when you are getting up to pee at 6am and hoping to god you can get back to sleep for an hour and a half before your alarm goes off, Jessica Ennis is probably sprinting on a track in the cold morning air. When you are griping about having too much to carry in from the car (a top personal gripe of mine), Jessica Ennis is probably working on her javelin throw. When you are struggling to climb the stairs after that really intense 45minute-long zumba class, Jessica Ennis is probably having an ice-bath after a six hour training session. When you are chowing down on a full-Irish and a packet of Rancheros, Jessica Ennis is probably eating three bananas and a bowl of porridge. She’s not like you and me. She’s an athlete. And that’s the reason she won the gold medal in the London 2012 Women’s Heptathlon in what I have decided was the greatest moment of the games thus far.

Heptathlete Jessica Ennis burst into tears as she crossed the 800m line, securing her first Olympic gold.

It was amazing. By the time the last heptathlon event rolled around on Saturday evening; the 800m, Jessica was in the lead. She won her semi-final, earning enough points to make her unmatchable. She cinched the gold and burst into tears as she crossed the line. She ran 800m, eight football fields, in 2minutes 8seconds. Yesterday I decided to run 400m, just to see. I ran it in 1minute and 54 seconds. Almost two minutes. To run half of what Jessica Ennis ran in just 14 seconds more. And I was fit to collapse after. Pathetic.

Saturday, as it turned out, was Great Britain’s most successful day at the Olympics in 104 years as they took home six golds. Jessica Ennis, of course, won the heptathlon. Then there was golds in the Men’s Long Jump. Two rowing golds. Cycling gold and then the thinnest man I’ve ever seen, Somali-born, British runner, Mo Farah won the 10,000m.  Sure it’s all happening lads!

Golds for GB. Clockwise (L-R): Cyclist Bradley Wiggins, Long jumper Greg Rutherford, Tennis champ Andy Murray, 10,000m Mo Farah, Shooter Peter Wilson, Cyclist Victoria Pendleton, Rowers Sophie Hoskins and Katherine Copeland and Heptathlete Jessica Ennis.

Ultimately though, at this point, it’s all about one guy. They call him Usain. He thinks he’s Richard Branson. But he is, in fact, the fastest man on the planet. He loves chicken nuggets, dancing and he regularly tweets pictures of himself playing Call of Duty. He said he’s 95% fit for these games. He also said that, if he feels up to it after the 100m, he might go for gold in the 200m; “for my country, why not?”.

Last night Usain qualified for the 100m finals with a time of 09.87. In the second semi-final Bolt’s fellow Jamaican and training partner, Yohan Blake won with a time of 09.85. Faster than Richard Branson and his high speed broadband. The final was at ten to ten. Eight of the fastest men in the world lined up and millions took ten seconds out of their hectic lives to see who’d take the gold. But you know who took it. You know who’d take it from the start. The Lightening Bolt ran it in 09.63 seconds, a new Olympic record (he would, wouldn’t he) and proof that his winning semi-final time was the result of him not even bothering to try.

Team mates, training partners, rivals, Usain Bolt and Yohan Blake after Bolt’s 100m win last night

He was, predictably, followed by Blake at 09.75 and then American, Justin Gatlin for the bronze in 09.79. It was EPIC! Bolt runs again in round one of the 200m on Tuesday. He’ll win it. Course he will. Look at the big gangly arms on him. No contest.

And that’s pretty much where we’re at so far. The week ahead looks good too, set to be dominated by boxing for us. We’ll see more from Usain Bolt from Tuesday. Little Tom Daley dives again on August 10^th. Dublin girl, Annalise Murphy is sailing today. She’s in with a chance of another Irish medal. With a bit of luck we might see Billy Twomey or Cian O’Connor in the showjumping final on Wednesday. We’ll have some more canoeing, rhythmic gymnastics. Taekwondo begins on Wednesday. And, of course, athletics will go on in the stadium up to Friday.

Then, on Sunday, it will all end. There will be a big-ass ceremony. The athletes will march again. There will be winners and, uh, LOSERS! Muse will play. Take That will play. London will hand over the Olympics to the next host city for the 2016 Olympic Games, Rio de Janeiro. And then… The flame will be extinguished. And I will be devastated. Because the excitement will be over for another four years.

Hold up, wait, I’m getting all melancholic for no good reason! There’s still a whole week to go! There’s so much still to come. So many medals still to be won. It’s not over yet. And to be honest with ya, I’ll probably be back here again next week doing this again.

Oh also, there are no videos of the Olympics available on youtube right now hence why I haven’t embedded any. They’re so darned protective of that shit. Sincere apologies.

Here’s Usain being Richard Branson for the craic…

The Best Thing I Watched This Week…

Wull. How’s it goin’?

So this week I have watched a fairly typical array of seemingly randomly selected broadcastings. Some worth my while, some not so much.

Here’s your pointless rundown of all the crap (and anticrap) I’ve been privy to this week, exclusive of such weekly staples as Teen Mom and Jersey Shore (how ridiculous has Jersey Shore gotten now that they’re super famous?!):

 

Louis Theroux

I watched two Louis Theroux documentaries this week. ‘Law and Disorder in Philadelphia’ and ‘Gangsta Rap’.

Louis Theroux is, by far, the whitest guy any of us know. And he’s not white like Eminem is white. You know, like “Yeah, I’m white but you can’t touch the swag! And what!?” Nah, Louis is white in more of a Rick Moranis in ‘Honey, I Shrunk The Kids’ kind of a way. And just to provide an example of his whiteness, here’s a quote from Louis’ wiki page:

“Another of his contemporaries was Liberal Democrat politician, Deputy Prime Minister Nick Clegg with whom he travelled to America.”

Contemporaries?! Liberal Democrat?! Deputy Prime Minister? Whom!? That sentence is so riddled with white I can just barely handle it!

D’ya remember the documentary that Martin Bashir made about Michael Jackson? Course ya do! It was on on a Monday night and EVERYONE watched it and talked about it the whole next day! D’ya also remember how seemingly lame and awkward Martin was throughout? That’s what Louis is like! He puts himself in these outrageous situations next to outrageous people and then he acts like Hugh Grant, with hilarious/mortifying consequences.

In ‘Law and Disorder in Philadelphia’ he was doing the rounds with the Philadelphia police as they took on the entire cast from ‘The Wire’ (or so it seemed). A friend of mine recently described Louis as someone who “stands awkwardly on the outskirts of situations asking really obvious questions”, and that couldn’t be more on the money.

I think that’s part of the reason why his documentaries are so moreish. On one hand you’re intrigued by the situation he’s in, you actually want to know more about the subject. But on the other hand you kind of just want the ground to open up and swallow you because Louis is so embarrassingly square it makes you want to die!

But it’s like watching a good horror film where you take pleasure in the fear. Except with Louis it’s not so much fear as utter, utter mortification.

I can’t wait to squirm through more.

 

Senna

I used to be well into Formula One. Back when I was a sprightly young thing of just 16 and it was dominated by the likes of  Schumacher, Raikkonen, Alonso, Montoya and Barichello. I’d be up at crazy hours of the morning to watch the races live on ITV. Then I sort of fell out of touch and when I attempted to come back I made discoveries like, Kimi Raikkonen had gone to the WRC, Juan Pablo Montoya was a NASCAR driver and some kid called Sebastian Vettel was world champion. It was sheer madness and I just couldn’t get down with it.

Anyways, so I was intrigued to watch this documentary about Ayrton Senna. I went into it with just a basic knowledge of the man. I knew that he’s considered one of the greatest Formula One drivers of all time. And I knew that he was killed during a race. But that was about it.

But, okay, so here’s the issue I had with the film… Is it meant to have subtitles or no? Because if it is then I watched the wrong version and if it’s not then it’s shocking hard to follow.

Ayrton was Brazilian so a lot of it is in Portuguese. Other parts were en Francais. And there was ne’er a subtitle to be found.

The parts that I was able to follow were admittedly captivating though. That is the saving grace. You don’t need to know anything about the sport to enjoy this film.

Underneath the guise of racing, it’s really just a story about a man who lived for his career. He excelled. He was fiery and outspoken. Passionate and cutting. Dedicated and religious. Mysterious and intelligent. ‘Senna’ is an outsider’s insight into a captivating character who met his end in a premature and shockingly tragic way.

We see him engaged in a bitter rivalry with Alain Prost, hurling insults and accusations. We see him speaking out against the politics of the sport. We see him being welcomed home to Brazil as a hero. It’s as though we’re seeing for the first time the many sides of a man who lived his life as a mysterious individual.

This is one of those films where you come out the other side and you feel like you know the person. Or at least you want to know more of them. If Senna had lived he would only be 52 today. Sad right?

 

What’s Love Got To Do With It

Based on the life of one Miss Tina Turner, ‘What’s Love Got To Do With It’ was actually pretty good.

I love a good true story. And although this film is “loosely based” on Tina’s autobiography, ‘I, Tina”, I watched it and just pretended it was all verbatim.

Poor ol’ Tina has had a hard enough wee life, mostly at the hands of Ike (played here by Laurence Fishburne). But the best thing about this movie is, without a shadow of a doubt, Angela Bassett. You know when you see a really good impressionist and it’s so uncanny you almost can’t believe it? Well this pretty much just two hours of the best Tina Turner impression you’ve ever seen. She doesn’t much look like Tina and I’m pretty sure she mimed all the singing bits but still… I believed her.

I knew very little about Tina going into this one. Actually, scratch that. I knew nothing about Tina going into this one. But now, I’d neeeeaaarly put some Tina on my ipod (No I heckin’ wont! Don’t be ridiculous!). But I certainly think more of her having watched this film. Yo go Tina!

 

American Psycho

I know, I know… I should have seen this movie a long ass time ago. It’s my bad. I guess I was too preoccupied with other classics like ‘Mac and Me’ and ‘Howard The Duck’.

But lookit, better late than never. And I enjoyed this one.

But here, do you watch ‘Keeping Up With The Kardashians?’ If you don’t, it’s too much to try and explain. But if you do, two words: SCOTT DISICK! Clearly Scott saw ‘American Psycho’ once upon a time and decided that he was going to base his entire persona on Patrick Bateman. To be fair, he plays the part pretty well but like, cop on, at the same time ‘coz… Who does that?! Nobody over the age of 14 should be trying to base themselves on a movie character less there’s some issues there… Oh wait…

Anyways, yeah, so I thought ‘American Psycho’ was pretty decent. For those of you who are tardier to the party than I was, I’m about to completely spoil the plot here. But usually I’m the person who gets real annoyed when a film ends abruptly without explaining anything. I’ve enjoyed so many movies only to wind up having to hate them for bad endings. I prefer for everything to get neatly tied up, all outstanding questions answered and our heroes to come out on top. That doesn’t happen in ‘American Psycho’. Even after the dramatic climax, nothing gets resolved. Bateman’s confession “has meant nothing.” But, weirdly, I don’t mind. Because I feel like that’s the whole point of it. Did he kill all those people? Was it all in his head? I’ve no idea. Nor do I really care.

All in all I deem ‘American Psycho’ to be an elegantly constructed, perfectly executed, emotionally void tale of a man on the brink. Somehow it manages to be horrifying, violent and detached while also being hilariously satirical and clever at the same time.

I haven’t read the book. And I probably wont. It’d only spoil the movie.

 

The Rum Diary

When I heard the words, “Johnny Depp” and “Hunter S. Thompson”, my mind immediately came up with its own expectations for this film. Those expectations bore eerily similar to ‘Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas’. If you haven’t seen this film and you want to because, like me, you loved ‘Fear And Loathing’, just stop right there. There’s absolutely no likeness.

‘The Rum Diary’ was meh at best. It’s based on a novel, first of all, and not Hunter himself as was the case with the former (better) film. It’s about this journalist, Paul Kemp (not Ross unfortunately) who goes to Puerto Rico to work for a newspaper. I think we’re meant to think that he’s a wild alcoholic but, to be honest, he only seems to get mildly drunk every now and again, which is very disappointing and not what one would expect going in.

Truth is, very little happens in this film. It has a few funny moments, like when they drive the shitty little car after it gets vandalised. But it’s otherwise fairly vapid. The character of Morbeg (played by Phoebe’s brother) is rage-inducingly overacted and unbelievable and IMHO should have been left on the cutting room floor/ played by someone who would have done it differently.

I read two things about the director:

1)    This was his first film in almost twenty years and,

2)    He was six years sober and took up drinking again to write this film.

Yeah, ya can tell.

Truth be told, ‘The Rum Diary’ is essentially, about nothing. But not in an awesome way like the way ‘Napoleon Dynamite’ is about nothing. It’s about nothing in a way that means I’ve forgotten most of it and have no intention of ever watching it again.

 

The Descendants

I find George Clooney creepy as shit! There I said it. I think it stems from the scene in ‘Burn After Reading’ where he shoots Brad Pitt in the face (a scene that has haunted me since seeing it, for some reason). I don’t know. I just don’t like George Clooney. You’re 50 years old. Stop dating models. Settle down and have children. You know what I mean? So, I guess I went into this one biased against him. Which is not really fair, but here we are.

‘The Descendants’ has garnered a lot of hype. It won two Golden Globes and has a few Oscar nominations. I’m trying to figure out if I’m missing something or if there’s just a lack of decent films on the go this year.

So, this one is about a man who lives in Hawaii and his wife has an accident and winds up in a coma. He finds out that she was cheating on him with Stuart from ‘Scream’ and goes about finding him. There’s a subplot about how his family inherited a load of pristine land (hence the title of the film I guess) and they want to sell but then they have to think about the impact of selling on the island and ah, it’s all a tad unfuckingnecessary really.

Like, it was okay. It’s like a film that you’d see on TV3 at 4pm on a Sunday afternoon. Ya know the kind. The type of movie that you can switch on when it’s already an hour in and still follow. Not the type that gets five Oscar nods. Weird.

 

The Bridge

Probably not a film for everyone. ‘The Bridge’ is a documentary filmed at San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge in 2004. The director, Eric Steel, filmed the bridge for most of the year and thus ended up capturing 23 suicides.

Apparently more people die by suicide at the Golden Gate Bridge than anywhere else in the world.

Suicide is one of life’s last big taboos. And so of course, you’ll have those who’ll denounce a documentary about it as being tasteless or insensitive. But…This film doesn’t glorify suicide. It doesn’t condemn suicide. It simply shows us a reality that most of us generally refuse to acknowledge. This shit happens. And there’s something compelling about this movie.

We see interviews with friends and families of the “jumpers”. We hear their stories. We almost feel like we know these people. In a lot of cases I think we all know people like these people.

We’re shown footage of these lost souls standing on the bridge. We’re shown their fall, their final moments, before a splash into the water below.

It’s compelling, I think, because for most of us, the thought of suicide is so incomprehensible. How tortured must one be to face and end like that? How desperate? How brave? Or how cowardly? We’re looking at this eerie footage of people atop one of the worlds most astounding structures. It’s beautiful. It’s epic. But this film shows us that for, on average, one person every two weeks, it’s tragic.

Like the film ‘The Falling Man’ in the wake of 9/11, ‘The Bridge’ is a haunting insight into something that most of us just don’t understand.  I came out the other side with no better understanding, but certainly a different perspective on San Francisco’s most iconic attraction.

I can’t say that ‘The Bridge’ is brilliant or awful. I can’t summarise it. There’s nothing fancy about it. It just is. And no matter your stance or personal opinion on the content, it is affecting.

You should watch it.

 

The Artist

Honestly? I turned it off after ten minutes.

The entire thing is in black and white.

There’s no dialogue.

It’s probably perfect for the type of person who wears vintage clothes, rides a bicycle (with a basket and bell), goes to Prague for a holiday, reads old novels and drinks port.

I’m the type of person that wears River Island clothes, drives a Toyota (with an engine and ipod connect), goes to Vegas on holidays (or… wants to, at least), reads autobiographies and drinks vodka.

This is 2012. I realise that trends tend to loop. But we live in an era of million dollar budgets and 3D effects. I’m sure the argument for this film is old-school romanticism but like, no dialogue? Really?!

Maybe I’ll give it another chance in the future but not today.

Thanks.

 

I’ve watched some other apparently insignificant stuff this week also. I guess none of it was must-see viewing.

But, the Oscars are coming up later this month. There’s a few nominees that I want to see before the big day. You know, stick my oar in and have an opinion. I’ve seen a few of the films that are up.

‘The Help’ looks like it might be good. I also might be interested in ‘The War Horse’, just coz it’s about a horse who has the very same name as my very own pony (Shout out to Joey right now!). I saw ‘Midnight In Paris’ a good while ago, it’s dung, don’t bother. Uhhhh, what else? I feel like there’s no way ‘The Iron Lady’ could be bad with Meryl Streep in the title role (Love Meryl Streep). I’ve no interest in ‘Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy’. Also saw ‘Warrior’ a few weeks back. It was alright aswell, if a smidge unbelievable. ‘The Ides of March’ was decent (even though George Clooney’s in it. Gosling carried the whole thing). I saw ‘Paradise Lost 3: Purgatory’ which was just okay. Certainly not worthy of an Oscar nomination but I’ll go with it. But I want to see ‘Hell And Back Again’ for the military valya.

So… Yeah! It’s all ahead of us. Yay for movies! See ya’ll bitches next time! PEACE!

Apparently The Golden Globes Went Down…

Okay so I know I’m a little tardy to the party here but I’ve only just gotten around to watching the Golden Globes. It was either that my life is so fulfilling and action packed that I just didn’t get a second to sit down and watch, or that my life is so barren and action lacked (just made that up right there, no messin’!) that I just couldn’t be bothered. In reality, it’s probably that I was far too busy watching something else, seeing as I spend most of my time staring at screens. I watched The Borrowers last Sunday… I know…

Aaaaaanyways, the Golden Globes went down. All the stars dressed up in their best Sunday mass outfits and showed up. They showed up because, as I’ve become aware over the years, the entertainment industry is one that sure loves to congratulate itself. Is not acting still just a profession at the end of the day? I mean, you don’t see plumbers getting all snazzed up and heading to the Plumbers Association Awards. What would that entail? Best Burst Pipe reparation… Best Plumber in a Crisis Situation..

“Accepting the award is John Smith of Smith And Sons Plumbing Solutions.”

“Oh God, I don’t know what to say! Thanks so much. Um, well I’d like to thank my Mam and Dad for ringing yer man from over the road and getting me an apprenticeship all those years ago. I’d like to thank Alan Smith, who has let me away with borrowing the van for personal use many a time. I’d like to thank Handy Hardware for providing me with the chain pipe vice that I used in this job. Couldn’t have done it without you. Most of all, I’d like to thank Jane Jones, the woman who didn’t insulate her pipes in the cold weather. Jane, you’re one in around five. It was a pleasure to work with you, to leave dirty footprints in your house, to drink your tea, to mend your rusty pipes. Thank you. Thank you all.”

The Golden Globes, The Oscars, The Baftas, they’re all just the acting profession equivelent of the Plumbers Association Awards (The PAAs don’t exist, except for in my mind)

No way... I stand corrected...

Ricky Gervais was the host… Again. And he seemed to  be the only one aware of just how pretentious and self-indulgent the whole thing really is. He introduced Natalie Portman and was like, “last year our next presenter won both the Golden Globe and the Oscar for her brilliant performance in Black Swan. This year she took some time out to have a baby. Consequentially she’s been nominated for nothing. Pathetic. But she’s learned that valuable lesson that all you already knew. never put family first.” 

Of course, most of the sarcastic undertones of Ricky’s gags went over the heads of the yanks who mostly just laughed when they saw Helen Mirren laugh first.

There were winners and losers. Modern Family won. I don’t watch that. Homeland won. I don’t watch that either. The winners were pretty much all from shows that I don’t watch and therefore have nothing to say about. But I’m not here to give you a rundown of the winners anyway. I’m here to make a mockery of the celebrities, which, let’s be honest, sounds way more fun. Riiiiiiiiiiiight?!

So, they were all there anyways. Reese Witherspoon looked BANGIN’!! I mean, you almost wouldn’t notice her SUPERPOINTYCHIN! Angelina Jolie looked pretty good aswell, but she still looked pretty dangerous. For someone who does so much charity work and shit, Angelina sure looks like a menacing bitch! I don’t know what it is about her exactly but she always looks like she probably has a handgun hidden in her bra in case anyone tries to breach her personal space and she knows how to use it. An honorable mention must go out to Salma Hayek who brought the twins out for the occasion.

Reese and her chin... Angelina's packin' heat... But so is Salma..

Our favourite granny-carrying ball of emotions, Kate Winslet won the award for Best Actress in a Mini Series. She wasn’t as gushy as I expected. I thought she’d throw in a few “oh God”s or at least cry a little bit, but she kept it pretty tight. Still got the embarrassing “wrap it up” music though.

Speaking of gushing, can we talk about Michelle Williams? Her acceptance speech for Best Actress in a Musical/Comedy was comprised of her going on and on about the child she has with Heath Ledger. I don’t run around thanking my brother for accomplishments I make in my job. I mean, even Ricky Gervais said, “No need to thank everyone you’ve ever met, or members of your family, who’ve done nothing!”. Heath Ledgers kid did not contribute to you winning this award Michelle Williams. Matter fact, she probably hindered your chances. You won the award despite being a mom, not coz you’re a mom… Moms eh?!

Felicity Huffman and William H. Macy presented some award, I dunno which one, but they did this: Which gains them esteemed entry into my Top Most Favouritest Celebrity Couples, alongside such pairs as: Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell, Ellen DeGeneres and Portia DeRossi, Seal and Heidi Klum, Jay Z and Beyonce, Kevin Bacon and Kyra Sedgwick, Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson (I’m feeling inspiration for a whole new blurb here!)…

Leonardo DiCaprio was there. He looked thrilled to see Scorsese win Best Director. But when Ricky was talking about Kim Kardashian the camera cut to Leo and he had a face on him that said, “I have absolutely no idea who Kim Kardashian is. I’m trying to look like I care. I’m so bored. What time is it? Is my car almost here to get me outta this kip I don’t want any of these lowly, dirty TV actors touching me.” And that’s fine because he’s Leonardo DiCaprio and he’s better than the Golden Globes. Matter fact, they should be thanking their lucky stars he bothered his arse showing up.

Speaking of showing up, where the fck was Ryan Gosling?! The man of the hour! Nominated for TWO Golden Globes! Even I’m a Ry Goz convert. Like, I’d DEFINITELY shift Ryan Gosling (and that’s despite the fact that he’s not conventionally good-looking and he speaks with that weird New York/Bostony kind of accent even though he’s totally from Canada, whatthefuckisthatabout?!). But there was no sign of him at the Globes. You’re not Leo DiCaprio, Ryan. You get nominated for TWO Golden Globes, . you should prolly show up. Maybe he was too cool for the Globes just like he was too cool for that TIME magazine award for being the Coolest Person of The Year. Can you imagine being that cool?! Man it must be cool to be Ryan Gosling… Cool.

Sidney Poitier did a tribute to Morgan Freeman. Sidney Poitier is a very old man. As a result of this the tribute resembled a very boring reading during mass recited by the 84 year-old man from down the road and thus, natural reaction meant I kind of zoned out and thought about other things until he was done talking. I do know though, that Morgan Freeman was wearing only one glove (What.. thefuck?) and that when he said, “It may be known as the Cecil B. DeMille Award but in my house it will always be known as the Sidney Poitier award” , I actually thought Sidney was dead on his feet. Absolutely no reaction. Like, I thought maybe someone should just check his pulse real quick.

Sad Boy - Better Than You Boy - Poor Boy - Lovely Boy

Not a whole pile else happened really. Owen Wilson was there. ‘Midnight In Paris’ was up for Best Picture. Ah god love him. It’s hard for Owen to find his place in the Hollywood scene after the whole “trying to kill himself” thing happened. He’s too well known as a comedy actor to play serious roles but we can’t enjoy him in comedies anymore because we know that he’s not a happy-go-lucky scamp at all. He’s a very damaged man. Shit, what if Luke becomes the higher earning Wilson brother!? No, seriously, it’s nice Owen got nominated at least. Might lift his wee spirts a bit.

Oh, can I also just say, I’m ever so pleased that Matt LeBlanc won Best Perfomance in a Television Series! I was feeling a bit sorry for poor Matt of late. The work had kind of dried up after ‘Joey’ got cancelled. He got a bit fat and grey. Him and the wife divorced. He was just a bit pathetic. So I’m glad to see him get some validation. Makes me feel like we’re less likely to read a story about him being found floating in a swimming pool somewhere. Even Matts acceptance speech seemed a bit melancholic and self-deprecating. When thanking the writers he said, “They write a Matt LeBlanc that’s way more interesting than the real thing. I wish I was him”. Awwww, poor Matt LeBlanc.

Other highlights of the show were:

– The Dog from The Artist joining the rest of the cast onstage to collect the award for Best Picture and doing some tricks! He looked a lot like Eddie from Frasier. Member him? Maybe it is Eddie! Maybe after Frasier wrapped he went on and followed his dream to be a movie star and now he’s made it! Damn, if only they’d cut to Kelsey Grammar at that exact moment, we’d have had our answer.

(EDIT: Eddie from Frasier is dead.. Boo! http://www.people.com/people/article/0,,1208083,00.html)

– Queen Latifah bringing some sleaze to the Globes. Bitch Queen L is so muthafuckin’ hood that dress prolly made outta her cash!

– Mark Wahlberg looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Just like he constantly does. I’d say he is a massive drag to be around. Every party has a pooper and the pooper is Mark Wahlberg.

–  Jake Gyllenhaal brought his lovely self out to present an award. Nout wrong with a bit of Jake Gyllenhaal upon an awards show.

So yeah. Then Ricky Gervais ended the show with, “I hope you enjoyed the goodie bags and the champagne and the gold. I hope it took your mind off the recession for a little while. Thanks. Good night.”, and then everybody went and got bananas… Except for Mark Wahlberg. He prolly just went home.

FULL!