That's right, I've put another review up on 'Would You Like It'.
Before you say anything... yes, there have always been morally complex mainstream films, and yes, Slumdog Millionaire was very simplistic but still great, but... well, I feel like I have to make some kind of point when I review a film, otherwise it's just like saying: 'yeah, it was pretty good' (incidentally, for those any of you who don't know me- unlikely, I know- that's almost exactly the response you're likely to get if you ask me what I thought of a film).
Maybe I'm not cut out for this film-reviewing thing...
Saturday, 31 January 2009
Monday, 26 January 2009
If you liked this...
Yes, it's been a while, and no, I still don't really have much to say.
I've posted a couple more reviews on 'Would You Like It'. The Waltz With Bashir one was an attempt at a Sight and Sound style effort. I think I've attained the right level of pretention at least.
I now have a full-time job, so probably won't be long before I abandon any whimsical thoughts about becoming a film reviewer.
I'm kinda glad we're now officially in a recession- now we don't have to mess around with stupid terms like 'the downturn', and perhaps the BBC will change their screen image from that giant red arrow damning us all to perpetual poverty to a soothing image of a wave receding from a beach. Or maybe the hairline of a balding man. Perhaps even a cancerous tumour shrivelling up- oh wait, that's remission.
When I get round to it, I'll sign up to twitter- if I can't keep these thoughts to myself, at least I can leave them to drown in that great flood of inconsequential babble.
Does this mean the end for Coping With Mediocrity? Or is it just the beginning?
Probably a bit of both.
I've posted a couple more reviews on 'Would You Like It'. The Waltz With Bashir one was an attempt at a Sight and Sound style effort. I think I've attained the right level of pretention at least.
I now have a full-time job, so probably won't be long before I abandon any whimsical thoughts about becoming a film reviewer.
I'm kinda glad we're now officially in a recession- now we don't have to mess around with stupid terms like 'the downturn', and perhaps the BBC will change their screen image from that giant red arrow damning us all to perpetual poverty to a soothing image of a wave receding from a beach. Or maybe the hairline of a balding man. Perhaps even a cancerous tumour shrivelling up- oh wait, that's remission.
When I get round to it, I'll sign up to twitter- if I can't keep these thoughts to myself, at least I can leave them to drown in that great flood of inconsequential babble.
Does this mean the end for Coping With Mediocrity? Or is it just the beginning?
Probably a bit of both.
Tuesday, 6 January 2009
Mediocriticism
I've started a new blog for reviewing films (and possibly books and anything else I feel like, though I don't think there'll be much demand for any more desk reviews).
The first few are sample reviews I did for Total Film- hence the varying lengths and screen-defying paragraph lengths, but I'll probably try a few other magazines' styles before abandoning the idea that anyone might actually pay (or at least encourage) me to review films, and adopt a style much like that of one Team Smithy.
Having said that, I vehemently deny any suggestions that my reviews are derived from his, apart from when we go to the cinema together and he points out the various flaws of the film while I'm still basking in the fading glow of the silver screen. I would have reached the same conclusions eventually- honest!
The first few are sample reviews I did for Total Film- hence the varying lengths and screen-defying paragraph lengths, but I'll probably try a few other magazines' styles before abandoning the idea that anyone might actually pay (or at least encourage) me to review films, and adopt a style much like that of one Team Smithy.
Having said that, I vehemently deny any suggestions that my reviews are derived from his, apart from when we go to the cinema together and he points out the various flaws of the film while I'm still basking in the fading glow of the silver screen. I would have reached the same conclusions eventually- honest!
Monday, 5 January 2009
Chariots of Farce
Ok, so it's a long way off and we're all going to be sick of hearing about it by mid-2010, but I'm starting to really look forward to London 2012.
Not because team GB might do even better than at Beijing. No, quite the opposite...
Because it's shaping up to be the moment when we finally acknowledge what Britain truly is: a joke. The punchline of Europe. The international equivalent of a skateboarding otter.
We've long prided ourselves on our quirky, self-deprecating sense of humour, but as a nation we still take ourselves far too seriously (I mean, come on, 'Cool Britannia'?).
Whether it's a hangover from the empire, the 'special relationship' or the legacy of The Beatles, for some reason we still think we're great. I can't be bothered to go into all the statistics and deep-seated problems with the national psyche, but I think it's pretty obvious to everyone that we're not.
So it's time to stop pretending, to admit to ourselves and everyone else that the game's up and we lost, and start to enjoy it. To sing out to the world: 'we're crap, and we know we are...'
London 2012 is our chance, and it looks like we're going to take full advantage of it. First there was the handover ceremony, in which a woman millions of us encouraged to squander her talent on singing over-modulated crap rose out of perhaps the least glamourous form of transport known to man. Then there was "whiff-waff's coming home", fumbled flag-waving and... well, then there was Boris Johnson.
Now they're considering having Morris dancers in the opening ceremony. (Maybe this will open the way for my long-cherished dream of seeing the England rugby team prancing about with bells attached to their knees in reply to the All Blacks' haka- I think we all know which one is scariest...)
Perhaps after the hanky-waving clog-wearers have done their thing we could move on to a celebration of modern British culture- a few rounds of 'Olympic Rings of Fire' to set the mood, some casual violence and then some unprotected (and preferably underage) sex.
It's almost worth re-electing Boris for.
Not because team GB might do even better than at Beijing. No, quite the opposite...
Because it's shaping up to be the moment when we finally acknowledge what Britain truly is: a joke. The punchline of Europe. The international equivalent of a skateboarding otter.
We've long prided ourselves on our quirky, self-deprecating sense of humour, but as a nation we still take ourselves far too seriously (I mean, come on, 'Cool Britannia'?).
Whether it's a hangover from the empire, the 'special relationship' or the legacy of The Beatles, for some reason we still think we're great. I can't be bothered to go into all the statistics and deep-seated problems with the national psyche, but I think it's pretty obvious to everyone that we're not.
So it's time to stop pretending, to admit to ourselves and everyone else that the game's up and we lost, and start to enjoy it. To sing out to the world: 'we're crap, and we know we are...'
London 2012 is our chance, and it looks like we're going to take full advantage of it. First there was the handover ceremony, in which a woman millions of us encouraged to squander her talent on singing over-modulated crap rose out of perhaps the least glamourous form of transport known to man. Then there was "whiff-waff's coming home", fumbled flag-waving and... well, then there was Boris Johnson.
Now they're considering having Morris dancers in the opening ceremony. (Maybe this will open the way for my long-cherished dream of seeing the England rugby team prancing about with bells attached to their knees in reply to the All Blacks' haka- I think we all know which one is scariest...)
Perhaps after the hanky-waving clog-wearers have done their thing we could move on to a celebration of modern British culture- a few rounds of 'Olympic Rings of Fire' to set the mood, some casual violence and then some unprotected (and preferably underage) sex.
It's almost worth re-electing Boris for.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
