Wednesday 29 July 2009

Richard Herring is NOT Racist, so put that in your Guardian Pipe and Smoke it!

Pass me some oats as my high horse needs feeding.....
Yesterday a Guardian article entitled the 'New Offenders of Stand-up Comedy' unfairly besmirched comedian Richard Herring, deliberately misquoting him as holding racist sympathies. I'd just like to take a moment to stand up for the poor stand-up, not because I'm a nerdy superfan* but because the article is libelous, and being so misrepresents him to potential punters. Once again, I'd like to state in google friendly terms; Richard Herring is not racist.
I'm frankly baffled at where to begin. Firstly I'd like to express my disappointment at the Guardian for their willful misrepresentation of facts to suit their copy. I mean, the 'Guardian' for crying out loud! Next they'll be misquoting talking foxes who miss the good old days being hunted -"we've all gotten so obese without the exercise, don'tcha know".
The gist of Brian Logan's article (here) is that comedy has swung around from political correctness to attacking established "right on" values for the sake of being needlessly controversial, and Richard Herring's new show 'Hitler Moustache' is indicative of this dark trend Logan gives a brief description of the show but then winds up by quoting Richard out of context saying "that racists have a point". At the end of the article he makes a point that outrage can be useful, but the comedy audiences should feel free to stand up and walk away from shows that bully.
By gum it does sound bad doesn't it?
If I didn't know who this Herring guy was I'd assume he was a raving right wing bigot who probably built his own boats to deport any neighbours he didn't like - I'd bet he'd even make them out of old copies of the Daily Mail all the while chuckling to himself at the thought of waterlogging. I certainly wouldn't be interested in listening to any of his views and his name (if remembered) would become an anathema akin to Bernard Manning.
Actually Richard has written thoughtful show around the toothbrush/'Hitler' moustache questioning whether it can ever be reclaimed for Charlie Chaplin and comedy in general. By wearing the moustache and talking about it he's safely in the realms of "right on" comedy that challenges the audience to think about what is offensive. This show, like most of his output, delights in absurdities, irony, and logical fallacies - all of which are astutely constructed with careful wit .
Richard's mortified rebuttal is here, if you want to read anymore about this. Hopefully he'll have a right to reply, not to mention an apology, from the Guardian. Dave Gorman has also written an rather good blog entry on this subject (here), which I'd like to paraphrase; you don't have to like Richard Herring, it's fine not to, but he's not racist and deserves accurate representation, as does everyone.
*yes, I know I am. I love my 'who is Virgillo Anderson? t-shirt and I don't care who knows it.

Thursday 23 July 2009

Film Review: Moon

Directed by Duncan Jones, written by Nathan Parker, starring Sam Rockwell, and featuring the vocal talents of Kevin Spacey.
One of my favourite anecdotes involves the moon; a group of 18 year old girls are away on holiday by themselves for the first time (ooh exciting). As they lounge about at night, staring at the stars, sipping brightly coloured cocktails from too large glasses, one looks and says - "do you think that's the same moon they're all looking at back home?".
To get to the point: 'Moon' is a nice little film; proud to be smart and far more appealing than most of the dross that's circulating. Sam Rockwell plays Sam Bell, a man who's been working alone on the dark side of the moon with only a legoblock robot for company. Mercifully he's due to go home after three long years.
Of course nothing is that simple: he's been all alone (and looks twitchy and ill), he should be walking away free, the robot has a sinister emoticon 'face', and worst of all the sets are all post modern minimal shiny white...
Let's all scream silently, there's about to be some impeding doom of a familiar nature. So what's 'Moon' got going for it?
The solipsistic plight of Sam Bell presents some interesting quandaries, with close camera work and Rockwell's acting skill hammering home the demand for empathy. Despite being more or less on his lonesome, Sam Rockwell is compelling enough to make the film watchable, and the one man aspect, off putting though it may seem at first, really does work.
Yes, script nods to other great sci-fi flicks, notably Space Odessey and Solaris, dealing as it does with typical psychological space trauma/cabin fever. However, even though it doesn't break any new ground, it is very, very well written, with a certain deft humour punctuating the bleak plot. 'Moon' is clever enough to stand up for itself; giving the general impression of being a lucid Philip K Dick imagining, contradiction in terms though that is.
Moon manages to feel like a complete (albeit small and tidy) package; there's the distinct conceit of a future world, but one that is not totally divorced from ours. Costume and set design is utilitarian rather unfeasibly futuristic. Best of all the cinematography is sharp and creative, if (again like the script) deliberately referential. The brief sojourns around the lunar surface have a distinctive look of calculated artificiality, and indoors there's an implicit feeling of claustrophobia and isolation.
If you do go see it then it's my guess you'll feel engaged, entertained, and you'll enjoy the mull it provokes afterwards. If you're a sci-fi nut (and like spotting homages) then there's probably at least two thousand and one that I missed.

Wednesday 22 July 2009

Finally Something New!

Well a new post about an old song. Sorry.
Jonathan Swift remarked that a fool saying nothing could pass as a philosopher; but if a blogger says nowt it's usually because they're caught up in having a real life. It's less pithy, but it's true. I'm living through the sort of interesting times that are not interesting or funny enough to warrent commentary. I don't have a west wing to seclude myself in whilst I'm quiet, but I do have some music rich with dramatic flare to offer up...
I was going to go with Arcade Fire's 'Black Wave-Bad Vibrations'; a tune built from sawing vocals that cut across the slightly jarring fairground backdrop, to all of a sudden be nicely countered by a switch to stoically paced hand wringing and imploring. However, I think that 'My Body is a Cage' is a better standalone track for anyone who may have been living on Mars and doesn't know the band. Much the song is soaked through with simple pleading, that when coupled with the Hammond organ, the marching drum beat, and everything else (bar the kitchen sink) that gets throw at it, creates a soaring, hopeful, transcendental piece of music.
I came late to admiring Arcade Fire; Amazon.co.uk's incessant recommendation triggered a perverse rejection, and I grumpily sat in the corner shaking my head whilst everyone else, and all the critics raved. I was wrong, Amazon was right. Arcade Fire are exactly my sort of thing; complicated, slightly pretentious ( see above "hopeful, transcendental" comment) and oh so achingly well crafted.
On that note I'll enigmatically flounce off into my own fretting.