There’s no getting round that. The man is responsible for many of the most loved and admired films of the last few decades. Infact, he is so revered that people will not hear a word against his films, so enamoured are they with the worlds and atmospheres he has created for them.

So it came it came with some degree of difficulty that I had to finally accept recently, much as I hate to admit it to myself, much as I have denied it throughout the last ten years, that Tim Burton was a genius and sadly is no longer, in short: Tim Burton has lost it. If you haven’t reached that conclusion yourself, you’d best not read on because you may end up wanting to kill me (the adult equivalent of being told Santa Claus doesn’t exist might be too hard to stomach).

As far as his 25 year career goes, it’s still possible to divide his films into two distinct categories: before he started using the word “reimagining”, and afterwards. The last film of his I really enjoyed was 1999’s “Sleepy Hollow”, it’s far from his best film but it’s one of my favourites because, for me, it combines everything Burton does really well. The screenplay is confused and over complicated and bit dull in places but Burton managed to weave his magic so that on a first viewing, you somehow didn’t notice. As a viewer you’re too preoccupied with the amazing forest he conjures up; the performances; Danny Elfman’s score and other visual affects and make-up. His eternal-Halloweened world of eerie, dreary Pennsylvania-Dutch witchcraft is for me, truly spellbinding.

Then we witnessed the spectacular train-wreck that was Planet of the Apes (not even quality performers like Tim Roth could save this deeply ill-judged experiment). Big Fish now appears an attempt to rediscover that essential Burton originality after two Burton-isings of other popular stories (not everyone felt Sleepy Hollow was a success and obviously Planet of the Apes was roundly rejected). Infact this abortion turned out to be arguably the worst film Tim Burton has ever made. It’s twee, self important, meandering, inconsistent, bloated and diabolically saccharine at almost every turn – exactly the kind of film a young Burton, seething about everything he felt was wrong with Disney, would have never dreamed of making. Thinking back now, all I can remember is Ewan fucking McGregor (fresh from being deeply awful in Moulin Rouge!, deeply boring in Star Wars Episode 2 and deeply plastic in Down with Love) standing in a field of daisies, or sunflowers or something, proclaiming his undying love for the heroine. Eeurrggh.

Having established that Burton probably shouldn’t try an original story again for… ever, Charlie and the Chocolate factory sounded a perfect project for Burton to bounce to: “Great! What much loved Children’s story can Tim Burton work his magic on next? Roald Dahl’s classic about Willy Wonka, you say? Er, even though there’s an intimidatingly good version already filmed? Er, great, go for it…” Having found Mark Wahlberg and Ewan McGregor to be too dull to really front a Burton production the obvious move was to get Depp back (the formula has been good in the past, so seeking to recreate it made sense). Dahl’s story’s is already in place so Burton almost neglected to really shape a pleasing script and just concentrated on the weird and wacky world of his central character. It was a shame then that Depp’s Wonka had about 3% of the charm and charisma of Gene Wilder, spoke with a voice that sounded like a cross between Michael Jackson and Doctor Evil and whose appearance resembled Zoe Wanamaker.

The panic appeared to continue with another attempt to recreate the magic of a former success. Live action wasn’t doing it anymore so Burton turned to his first love – animation. Audiences who flocked to The Corpse Bride were expecting another Nightmare Before Christmas except not many people appeared to realise that the main person responsible for the genius of this earlier feature was one Henry Selick, its erm, director. Without Selick, the feature didn’t have the charming story or pleasing little touches that made Jack Skellington such an iconic character and the erm, the main people in Corpse Bride, (oh now… what are their names…?) so utterly forgettable.

Sweeney Todd…, despite being a musical, is in many ways the best thing Tim Burton’s made for a long time. I can’t really fault it, I just don’t like musicals. I found the songs distracting and a bit annoying but they were in keeping with the piece as a whole and much as I’d have preferred them to be stripped out of the film, it wouldn’t have worked without them. It was also nice to see Helena Bonham Carter in a decent role that exhibited her considerable talents well.

So to now. Like everyone else I was utterly, pant-wettingly excited about Alice In Wonderland – the images of the production design and costumes looked so outlandish and inspired that it could be no one other than Burton and - it could be the much longed-for return to form, to rival even something like Beetle Juice. The only note of warning was that Burton would now be working for Disney. His journey to the dark side would be complete. The only question would be whether our Tim could retain his filmmaking identity, complete with all that idiosyncratic genius, or would it be utterly drowned in feel-good schmaltz and put the service of Disney? The results; were disappointing…

Many of the elements were there and the film looks incredible. It’s well cast and I didn’t even mind that a few of my favourite characters like the Mock Turtle and the White Knight and The Walrus and The Carpenter weren’t included. It’s just that it isn’t very interesting. I was more enticed by the promotional stills of the characters than I was with what they say or do in the film and maybe this is because Burton’s job, even before the film was released, was already done. His name’s attached to the project and his ideas have been duly wrong out of him and conjured before your eyes and very little more is required of him for the film to make lots of money. Alice is potentially a more interesting character here than she is in the book but her journey, full of wonder and intrigue when explained by Carroll, is shallow and very un-involving here: the Burton magic is very much weaker now. And if it was strong on a difficult project like Sleepy Hollow, which was mired in development hell for years and only Burton could get it made, but weak here on a epic, heavily backed, Disney, 3-D, CGI spectacular, you’ve got to wonder where the director’s passion has gone (or how he allowed himself to be bullied by the studio). Burton-by-numbers has come to pass for Burton. It’s almost as if he’s parodying himself except it’s not because that would require some effort. If everything during the noughties were failed projects, or attempts to recapture his filmmaking mojo then that’s commendable. The man tried. Tried everything in his repertoire and truly cast about for something worthy of his earlier work. Alice… for me, feels like the first Burton (possibly of many, hopefully not) to be an admission of defeat, it’s almost been phoned-in.

As a devotee of TB, you remember the past greatnesses and convince yourself that this production is going to provide a similar experience and this time it’ll be better. Perhaps better to go back to Wonderland as it was then than to experience the updated “Underland”.

The first was a lazily written slice of home life where the writer explained about the “war” he regularly has with his daughter over what to watch. He is apparently so in love with football that it’s the only thing he’ll watch. I find most televised sport so mind-numbingly dull that I can see why his daughter might make a case for not watching it every evening. He then goes on to say that his daughter only seems to want to watch Britain’s Top Model which is a show that sounds so uncompromisingly unbearable that I can understand the father’s complaints about being subjected to the show’s narcissistic, self-promoting characters each time he wants to spend time in the living room (although he must see a few of those whilst watching the footie). Why can’t these people develop an imagination? They’re shows that exist on TV that are actually interesting, entertaining, informative, stimulating, involving and an absolute joy to behold. You might have to spend a bit of time reading a TV guide or the previews of coming shows but they’re out there. The writer might benefit from realising men are allowed to watch stuff other than football – and that’s O.K. (Mad Men, for example, is probably not made with a solely female audience in mind).

Because of the infrequent good programming, services like iPlayer or 4oD are very much the way forward (I found out recently you don’t need a TV license for anything that’s not being broadcast live) and DVD boxsets of the genuinely good stuff are really good value now. It’s just depressing that father and daughter have to undergo constant feuds over which is the lesser of two painful viewing experiences. Not to mention the other half of the family who can’t even bear to experience either!

The second article banged on about 57% of men between 18 and 44 preferring surfing the internet compared to 46% preferring TV and that “…the relevance of television is fading.”

I don’t think this comes as any shock.

“Some 73% of young males between 18 and 44 watch video-on-demand at least once a week, with nearly half watching full-length TV programmes.” - Now that anyone (women included) need not watch programmes at a regimented time slot we are free to plan our time better and an evening doesn’t have to revolve around a particular show. Also watching stuff on-line cuts out the majority of TV advertising which is often so loud and annoying that it can distract you from what you were trying to concentrate on.

We also prefer to get our news on-line as the internet allows stories to be updated as events develop. A good friend of mine says she doesn’t like to watch the news because most of the features are presented in a way that suits the (often limited) footage they have.

“More than 25% of young males living with their partners watch TV on a computer in the living room while their other half uses the main TV set.” This might well be true. My housemate watches TV in the living room and I escape to watch an episode of this or that. Anymore than 5 minutes of something that’s not well made or really holding my attention and I have to complain bitterly or (for better relations in the flat) just leave the room. A lot of people who complain to broadcasting standards groups or Points of View should follow suit: just change the channel or be brave and switch the TV off and do something else – if viewing figures were down on poor shows, they wouldn’t be able to justify making them. Although a season of Monkey Tennis might have achieved cult status…

Please feel free to take issue and if there’s something obvious missing it might be because, for one reason or another, I haven’t seen it (I also spend my time away from my house or the cinema venturing in to the world and talking to other people).

1. 25th Hour (2002)
2. 28 Days Later (2002)
3. A History of Violence (2005)
4. About a Boy (2002)
5. Amélie (2001)
6. Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy (2004)
7. Atonement (2007)
8. Brokeback Mountain (2005)
9. Casino Royale (2006)
10. City of God (2002)
11. Code 46 (2003)
12. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000)
13. Dead Man’s Shoes (2004)
14. Donnie Darko (2001)
15. Finding Nemo (2003)
16. Garden State (2004)
17. Gladiator (2000)
18. Gosford Park (2001)
19. Gran Torino (2008)
20. Grindhouse (2007)
21. Happy-Go-Lucky (2008)
22. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004)
23. High Fidelity (2000)
24. In Bruges (2008)
25. Juno (2007)
26. Layer Cake (2004)
27. Les Triplettes de Belleville (2003)
28. Let the Right One In (2008)
29. Lost in Translation (2003)
30. Minority Report (2002
31. My Summer of Love (2004)
32. Napoleon Dynamite (2004)
33. Ocean’s Eleven (2001)
34. Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003)
35. Ratatouille (2007)
36. Requiem for a Dream (2000)
37. Sexy Beast (2000)
38. Shaun of the Dead (2004)
39. Sin City (2005)
40. Slumdog Millionaire (2008)
41. Spirited Away (2001)
42. The Bourne Identity (2002)
43. The Constant Gardener (2005)
44. The Dark Knight (2008)
45. The Departed (2006)
46. The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (2003)
47. The Proposition (2006)
48. The Quiet American (2002)
49. The Royal Tenenbaums (2001)
50. The Rules of Attraction (2002)

01. Radiohead – In Rainbows (2007)
02. The Streets – Original Pirate Material (2002)
03. Sigur Rós – Ágætis Byrjun (2000)
04. Björk – Vespertine (2001)
05. Radiohead – Kid A (2000)
06. Radiohead – Amnesiac (2001)
07. Blur – Think Tank (2003)
08. Elbow – The Seldom Seen Kid (2008)
09. The White Stripes – Elephant (2003)
10. Arcade Fire – Funeral (2004)
11. Arctic Monkeys – Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not (2006)
12. The Strokes – Is This It (2001)
13. The Flaming Lips – Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots (2002)
14. PJ Harvey – Stories From the City, Stories From the Sea (2000)
15. Ryan Adams – Demolition (2000)
16. Sufjan Stevens – Illinois (2005)
17. Tom McRae – Just Like Blood (2003)
18. Vampire Weekend - Vampire Weekend (2008)
19. Gorillaz – Demon Days (2005)
20. Röyksopp – The Understanding (2005)
21. Hot Chip – The Warning (2006)
22. Jamie T – Panic Prevention (2007)
23. Four Tet – Rounds (2003)
24. Sigur Rós – ( ) (2002)
25. Chemical Brothers – Come With Us (2002)
26. Doves – Lost Souls (2000)
27. Ryan Adams – Love Is Hell (2004)
28. Portishead – Third (2008)
29. Lemon Jelly – Lost Horizons (2003)
30. The Postal Service – Give Up (2003)
31. Gorillaz – Gorillaz (2001)
32. Elbow – Asleep In The Back (2002)
33. Death Cab For Cutie – Plans (2005)
34. Elliott Smith – Figure 8 (2000)
35. Florence and the Machine – Lungs (2009)
36. Beck – Sea Change (2002)
37. Coldplay – Parachutes (2000)
38. Badly Drawn Boy – The Hour Of The Bewilderbeast (2000)
39. Bloc Party – Silent Alarm (2005)
40. Josh Rouse – Under Cold Blue Stars (2002)
41. Kings Of Leon - Youth & Young Manhood (2003)
42. Kasabian – Kasabian (2004)
43. Groove Armada – Goodbye Country (Hello Nightclub) (2001)
44. The Killers - Hot Fuss (2005)
45. Roots Manuva – Run Come Save Me (2001)
46. Rufus Wainwright – Poses (2001)
47. Turin Brakes – The Optimist L.P. (2001)
48. Muse – Black Holes and Revelations (2006)
49. Moby – Play (2000)
50. Cinematic Orchestra – Everyday (2002)

Step 1: Put your iPod/iTunes on shuffle.
Step 2: Post the first line from the first 20 songs that play, no matter how embarrassing the song.
Step 3: Post and let everyone you know guess what song and artist the lines come from.
Step 4: Strike them when somebody gets it right.

1. You expose the film in me
2. Whether long range weapon or suicide bomber
3. Sometimes I feel like I can’t even sing
4. Down the corridor I send warmth, I send warmth
5. Lonely skies, empty minds, we walk by to the rock and rhyme
6. This boy can’t swim, he’s wearing too many skins
7. I started a joke, which started the whole world crying
8. Last night it picked me up and span me round
9. I don’t believe I went too far
10. Listen to me when I go outside
11. The fire in the sky…
12. Will there be another breakdown?
13. Beetlebum, what you done?
14. You and the land are one.
15. That’s how we groove, that’s how we sway
16. I had a friend named Ramblin’ Bob
17. Hey! Gotta, gotta payback!
18. Miles away from light at noon
19. You’re back, sitting on my doorstep, ah yeah, like nothing happened
20. There is a wall that runs right through me

Any takers?

“Thomas Vu mentioned James in his note Your Band and Album Cover; Alex Davenport mentioned James in her note My First Band and Album Cover; Liam Creighton mentioned James in his note Your First Band & Album Cover; Courtney Hopf mentioned James in her note Your First Band and Album Sleeve.”

So I get tagged for lists and quizzes all the time. Mostly I ignore them because I’m curmudgeonly and find them tiresome. As you can see above I’ve been amassing requests for a task called “Your First Band and Album Sleeve” (actually every request was called something slightly different making me think that no one’s agreed firm ground rules here). I can happily ignore one request but to try to resist four is more difficult. The instructions are thus:

1 - Go to Wikipedia. Hit “random” or click http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random
The first random Wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.

2 - Go to Quotations Page and select “random quotations” or click

http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3

The last four or five words of the very last quote on the page is the title of your first album.

3 - Go to Flickr and click on “explore the last seven days” or click

http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days

Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

4 - Use Photoshop or similar to put it all together.

5 - Post it to FB with this text in the “caption” or “comment” and TAG the friends you want to join in.

Looking at other people’s examples this looked to be quite good fun so I had a go and was really enjoying the results until I got to number 4. I haven’t enjoyed the use of Photoshop since my Mac was stolen last year and damned if I could manage to re-install the version I have for the new one so below you’ll see what I came up with.

Prairie Dog Township:
The Facts Of The Situation

I’m putting it out there as a kind of contest; best and most imaginative version wins a packet of bourbons… ]]> http://www.eyelashjam.co.uk/2009/03/05/your-first-band-and-album-sleeve/feed/ http://www.eyelashjam.co.uk/2007/05/18/state-of-play/ http://www.eyelashjam.co.uk/2007/05/18/state-of-play/#comments Fri, 18 May 2007 10:47:20 +0000 James http://www.eyelashjam.co.uk/2007/05/18/state-of-play/ So this year’s gone quickly for me really. I almost hadn’t noticed time passing because despite my significant misgivings about temping it’s actually not been too bad at all. I’ve met some great friends and colleagues along the way. Added to that there’ve been some fantastic trips and visits. The year has seen me get away with Rob and the boys to The Lakes and go scaling and trekking near Keswick (not to mention discover the joys of Old Peculiar on draught), I’ve made it to Lyn and Simon’s stylish, Bond themed engagement party outside of Brum, helped to cook a veritable banquet for Nay, Marc and Dom in The Big Woo, been on hand for the final party of the mighty No. 8 in Clifton, been instrumental in stupidly big and riotous family get-togethers not to mention random drunken sessions with friends, old and new. It’s been time well spent.

So now. It’s time for the big push. The assault upon the capital. Dave and myself are attempting to find a place somewhere near our mates who are already ensconced in various degrees of SE-ness. Me and Mr DJ are in the process of shopping round for a place that hopefully combines value and location before moving on to the finer points of removals and house insurance and all the head aches that those bring. Anyone who knows me knows that this is a long held dream of mine to actually become something approaching a proper Londoner. My dad’s dad’s family were cock-er-neys after they were Irish so it feels like something of a return and I think I’m better equipped to handle myself after travelling and the variation of the year’s temping assignments. If all goes to plan then a job will follow soon (a ‘can do’ attitude has taken on a whole new meaning this year) and maybe pronouncing my ‘th’s as ‘f’s will be hot on its heels. I expect to visit Worcester, Malvern and (dare I say it) Welland a lot as I always have (can’t stay away really) but now that the escape tunnel is up and running I intend to use it. Watch this space for further developments. And wish me luck, I will be needing it!

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PORN

Tableware Shop

We made for Edinburgh first and arrived about four-ish on the Friday. The parents were duly deposited in a cosy B and B and Rae and I opted for the centre of town backpacker experience. Our place boasted the requisite amount of Aussies, assorted strange folk and loud colours to be called a proper traveller’s hostel and was comfy and well appointed except that it did smell like something has died in the washrooms. Being situated in the Cowgate (pronounced ‘Koo-gitt’) area of the city a few levels beneath the main high roads there were a few clubs nearby and it was quite a lively area which suited us and we weren’t far from the Royal Mile where a lot of the older and more atmospheric pubs were to be found. We were greeted by intermittent rain and cold winds but we pretty well expected that. The first day we did the castle and got lost in the bowels of this huge and imposing building that seemed to be at one with the rock it was manacled to. The castle was preoccupied with ancient heraldry and coronations and chronicling the various military regiments that it has spawned and we shuffled though trying to take it all in before being spat back out into the driving wind and rain and taking a direct route down from the hill through a series of winding and steep ginnels that Edinburgh is riddled with and making for a lunch venue. The night before we’d picked out a restaurant and were seated in a basement seemingly away from the other customers and this day the same thing happened – we were starting to think we needed to be segregated for some reason. This didn’t stop the food being really good and escaping the wind and rain for an hour to consume ridiculously good French food was a tough job but someone had to do it! We spent the afternoon wending our way down the Royal Mile to The Palace of Holyroodhouse at the bottom of the hill and attempting to ascend the crag of Arthur’s Seat that lay just beyond it. We never did learn exactly where we were supposed to go but felt as if we’d had some exercise and glimpsed some alternative views of the city before we repaired to a series of cosy pubs and a friendly little Italian restaurant for supper. Sunday was more successful and we found the camera obscurer just next to the castle. I’d wanted to see this ever since discovering the one in Bristol. This superb piece of Victorian invention allows you to use light and mirrors to spy on the city below you and get glimpses of the unsuspecting bustle nearby. The camera obscurer here was slightly superior to the one in Bristol in that its controls were more flexible and it was in better keep. It cost more to go in but then on the way up to the top floor the visitors were treated to chambers full of optical illusion games, puzzles, displays and holograms which were even more fun (if you do go, spare yourself the horror of morphing into your relatives – it was more than I could take!). We then grabbed a bit of lunch from a very trendy café that supplied you with colourful reception-class furniture and delicious shakes and wraps that Dad was highly suspicious of.  We had a good look round the National Gallery and then discovered a place that offered tours of the abandoned closes under contemporary street level. Since Edinburgh’s rapid development and lack of space had forced it to grow upwards and laws were in place preventing people  dwelling underground after it was paved over these endless passages and catacombs were deeply atmospheric and eerie, preserved pretty much the way they would have been, albeit without the sprawl and jostle of huge families packed into single rooms, stores and workshops, the endless flow of raw sewage along the main thoroughfares and the caverns stuffed full of cattle. The rooms were haunting with some apparently haunted aswell. The ghost stories were a bit hammy but some of the historical accounts were slightly chilling especially the plague element. We took ourselves off for a swift pint after that and found a superb seafood restaurant.

Next day we made for Glasgow and spent the afternoon doing a walking tour that our Lonely Planet suggested and finished up with a meal of haggis and veg and a nip of whiskey. Rae and I had a hostel in the west end by the university where most of the more stylish and friendly bars and shops were to be found. I knew that Glasgow would be much bigger but the more I looked round it I saw how much it had to offer and how much more of a functioning and kinetic city it was. The older parts boasted just as much compelling and complex architecture as it’s older neighbour yet felt as if they had made more of an effort to move with the times. The metro was also fun (and so ickle!). I just wish that we’d had longer to look round. Although both cities are less than an hour’s drive apart it still took the whole of Monday morning to sort ourselves out and get out of one hostel and into another and we only really had the Monday afternoon there. The Tuesday was reserved for seeing relatives and we had a good few hours catching up and reminiscing. The Tuesday was the only really decent day in terms of the weather which was helpful because we were by the sea so this made things that much more pleasurable, and gave us the chance to have fish and chips on the sea front. The whole break felt far too short but we packed a lot in as we usually manage to. I just hope it’s not another ten years before I can make it back.

At first I was surprised at your length of lead,
Like a fool I pushed it to the back of my mind.
From that day to this you’ve done nowt but impede,
My every movement; you seek to confine.

Walking with poise in the city is hard enough,
Yet you wrap round chair legs, you catch on railings.
Living with your attention-seeking ways is tough,
You hook on clothes, you exploit my failings.

You’ve a jealous streak a mile wide!
You can’t bear for me to think of anyone but you.
You think nothing of becoming entwined,
And causing me pain and humiliation anew.

Bastard.

What do you call those people who are convinced that the world is there because they are? I don’t think I am (I hope I’m not) but a lot of my favourite films (The Truman Show, Vanilla Sky, Solaris) share this theme and it’s something I occaisionally think about. The paragraph above is a recurring mission statement (I hate that phrase so sorry) that continues to rattle around in my head, as it has since early last year, because my current situation is, to a degree, echoed by Sam’s predicament in Life on Mars. I’m convinced that Manchester in Life on Mars is an involuntary construct of Sam in that it just seems to have trapped him and is relentless in its refusal to release him. Worcester exudes a similarly bleak and foreboding quality to this stylised and slightly unreal Manchester of 1973 (it’s certainly not the most attractive and welcoming place in the world, something perhaps not helped by the time of year). Like Sam, I’m helped along the way by the cast of great people I’ve worked with at Aiim, the city’s branch of the Cheltenham and Gloucester, CAFCASS and latterly Sanctuary Housing (the changing of jobs in itself feels episodic). It just feels like, as with Sam, it might only be me who decides when I escape. I keep hoping that at some point it all becomes clear what I’m doing in this wretched place and I’ll realise how to escape. In the same way as the slogan for The Truman Show reads “How’s it Going to End?” I’m looking forward to seeing how that light at the end of the tunnel will manifest itself (y’know, as opposed to wondering how I’m going to die, because that would just be a bit morbid…).

I’ve finished whining now and if you’ve read this far then I owe you a drink at some point. Cheers.