Lisey Landon can bite me

I blogged a little while back about giving up on the Booker Prize and instead my next book would be Stephen King's new book, Lisey's Story. I was looking forward to it a lot, because after some time off the boil, Cell had signalled a return to form. Well that'll teach me because Lisey's Story S U C K S. It's laboured, it's tiresome, it's structurally all over the fucking place. Most damagingly of all, the internal language of the central relationship and indeed the relationship itself is maddeningly irritating. I am hating every page of it to the point that I just ordered two new books off Amazon (Rupert Everett's memoir Red Carpets & Other Banana Skins and the apparently wonderful Special Topics In Calamity Physics) and when they arrive, Stephen King's latest effort is going in the trash. Shame.

Movies on the PCB Radar: December 2006

Ok given that it's December on Friday (scary, no?) I figured it was time for this. So let's start with what we have opening this weekend:



Not really sure why this is on my radar, I think it must be for the supporting cast and the intriguing premise. I can't abide Will Ferrell. I remember when Empire Magazine ran a feature on him a year or so back titled "The Funniest Man You've Never Heard Of". I channeled Karen Walker and intoned "honey do you know how many things are wrong with that sentence?"



This is here for more obvious reasons. It's a John Cameron Mitchell film, packed to the hilt with sex. Bring it on. I had to give up a ticket to an advance screening of this in favour of my recent trip to NYC so I am glad it's come out so quick.



And from one end of the spectrum to the other. This hasn't been the runaway smash hit expected, joining a surprisingly long list of kiddy friendly flops this year. The premise is decidedly odd but hey it looks like it could be fun.

December 8th:

Only a couple make the radar this week. There is one film opening this weekend that I am studiously ignoring. The Holiday looks like the worst kind of schmaltzy tosh around and I would sooner stick needles in my eyes than suffer through Cameron Diaz being whiny. I hate her. But anyway, on to films I actually want to see:



I've been excited about this since seeing a teaser trailer over the summer. It just looks too cute for words. And it seems unstoppable in the US, even kicking Bond into touch. So yay penguins.



Please note, I am under no illusions that the above will be a good film. It will, however, be full of pretty boys in various states of undress and who doesn't like looking at that?

December 15th:



This could be the Lord Of The Rings of 2006. Or it could be this year's Dragonheart. It's all to play for at the moment but the trailer looks exciting enough.



Tony Scott is a ridiculous hack and Denzel is so worthy it bores me senseless. And yet I want to see this. The plot looks like it's going to be incoherent to the point of insanity but it intrigues me still.



I know I know. It's wrong to want to see this. But I don't care. I love horror movies and I live in hope with each subsequent remake that one of them will be good. The Texas Chainsaw remake did scare me silly but the rest of the crop have been a joke. Well, if nothing else I can see this and hope that Michelle Trachtenberg meets the screaming bloody death she so richly deserves.

December 22nd:



Nothing says "it's nearly Christmas" like a film about the fate of the people in the iconic Iwo Jima snap, does it?

December 26th:




And the day after Christmas is the perfect time for this. I included both posters as they're so gosh darned purty. Now, the book of Perfume didn't thrill me and I HATED Run Lola Run so this is on my radar for one reason only. Ben Whishaw. He's had theatre critics frothing at the mouth for a couple of years now but I haven't seen anything he's done. He seems to be the Next Big Thing though so we'll see how he shapes up.

Royale with cheese

I saw Casino Royale over the weekend. The reviews have been very strong, it's done incredibly well at the box office, and the trailer gets me all kinds of excited. That the film itself would end up falling short is I suppose kind of inevitable.

There were many many plus points. Daniel Craig is the best thing to happen to the franchise in absolutely ages. I am so pleased they hired someone who is an actor first and a prime slab of beef second. His performance was wonderful and elevated the film to a whole different level. He was matched, nay outclassed, by Judi Dench as M, who may just be the best thing to EVER happen to the franchise. And when it comes to mesmerising, I was unable to take my eyes off Eva Green. She's impossibly sexy, with the most intoxicating voice AND she sure can act. Wonderful.

Unfortunately, the film is hamstrung by a plot that is, to be kind, all over the place. It's a long film and yet the plot seems rushed and shoehorned in, never being given time to breathe properly. The main baddy, Le Chiffre, is bland and dull and most unforgivably, is offed by someone other than Bond. The film's biggest fault though is the last half an hour or so, where James suddenly goes all soppy for Vesper and decides to travel around the world with her and renounce his double O status. It's hammily written and the scenario doesn't fit the characters and it totally fails to convince.

That said, I didn't hate the film, I actually quite enjoyed it. Top class performers can make you forget you're watching substandard material. The future for the franchise is undeniably bright and here's hoping the next film heads in the right direction.

PCB and the NYC Return, Part Five (Leaving on a jet plane)

And so it’s my last day in NYC already. I am having a long brunch with my dear friend Rachel, who is British but her father is American so she has just moved to NYC. She lives in the West Village in a teeny tiny apartment. I get to her place at about noon, dump my bags and we head out to a local diner for food. Whenever I see her, once we’re done catching each other up on our lives, we love nothing more than bitchy celebrity gossip. So that’s what we do.

She lives about a block and a half from Magnolia Bakery, so after we’re done at the diner, we stop by for cup cakes and red velvet cake. The place is heaving so we take it back to her apartment and spend a couple more hours of idle chatter. And then all too soon it’s time for me to leave for the airport. Thinking that as it’s a Sunday afternoon, the journey won’t be too bad to JFK, I don’t get a cab until about 4:15pm. I don’t get to JFK until a little after 5pm as it’s insanely bad traffic all the way. And the fun is only just beginning.

Having had the worst time getting out of JFK when I arrived, I now have the worst time checking back in. Rather than having each flight allocated to a set of desks, Delta has the bright idea of having all check in desks available for all international flights and just having one line. Said line is out of the terminal and down the street. My flight closes in 45 minutes. Fuck. Miraculously, they get it together and I get checked in. I then have to take my checked in baggage to a different end of the terminal as for some reason they can’t put it on the conveyor belts. I queue again to do this. I then queue once more to pass through security, which involves removing my belt, shoes, watch, ring, inhaler, loose change and god knows what else from my person. I make it to the gate at 6:15pm and luckily as the flight is only a third full, they haven’t started boarding yet.

We’re boarded and ready for take off 10 minutes early. So are 40 other planes, and we get an hour’s delay. Fun. I take two max strength Tylenol PM and the next thing I know, I’m being served breakfast about an hour outside of Gatwick. Praise be.

The idea behind such a lightning fast visit was I wouldn’t give myself time to get too attached again. It didn’t work. Within 30 minutes of being in Manhattan, I didn’t want to leave again. The trip as a whole was much more difficult and emotional than I expected it to be. I was very grateful to the network of friends I spent time with for making it as much fun as it could be though. As for what the future holds, who can say?

PCB and the NYC Return, Part Four (Collapse into me, tired with joy)

Saturday I am leaving Joizey behind me and heading up to Eric’s apartment way WAY uptown as I’m spending my last night on his couch. I make it to his apartment with just enough time to turn around and go all the way back to make it to the 2pm show of Grey Gardens. I bought Eric the ticket as a thank you for both spending the night on his couch and the last year of support he’s provided me.

The show is fabulous even if it is two different shows. I can’t work out why they chose to extrapolate details from the documentary about their life prior to the documentary and turn it into a whole act. I honestly think the show would be better served if there was no first act and the second act was expanded and extended. In its current format, it comes off as schizophrenic, but for all I know, that may have been the point. However, it’s all about Christine Ebersole. Her performance in this show is the stuff of legend. There are good performances, there are great performances and then there are “Merman in Gypsy” kind of performances, if you know what I mean.

In Act One, as Edith, she’s wonderful. Her voice is beautiful, she’s very funny but she also gives Edith depth that prevents the character from being a parody. In Act Two, as Edie, she truly comes into her own. The impersonation is absolutely dead on, but it’s so much more than that. Edie is given layers and emotions that aren’t necessarily discernible from the documentary. The Act Two opener, “The Revolutionary Costume”, is a very good song, but in Ebersole’s hands, it becomes a show stopping masterpiece. According to John, who works stage door there, that number has received its fair share of standing ovations. Quite right too. And anyone who stays dry eyed during “Another Winter In A Summer Town” has no soul. Hell, it gave me chills just typing the title.

After the show, Eric and I are having dinner with my friend Christina. She works as the kid wrangler on Mary Poppins so she has two hours between shows. When I meet her at stage door, we have the following conversation:

Me: Hi! Eric is joining us for dinner if that’s ok
Her: So is a 12 year old. Her mother couldn’t make it in to collect her.

So we had to dine with a child star. She’s been in The Forgotten and everything. Anyway, it’s fine and it’s wonderful to see her and we have fun but the not being able to swear or gossip was a scooch annoying.

After that it’s time to go back and walk the pooch before heading back down town to Beauty Bar for the main event of my trip: Guido’s party. When I arrive, he is absolutely blown away and we hug for like 5 minutes. I had daydreamed about what his reaction might be, but I didn’t expect him to cry. But cry he did. I make him stop as I am so tired and emotional at this point, crying wouldn’t be a good idea for me. It’s so wonderful to see him I can’t even tell you and this alone would make the trip worth it. Given that I had been so despondent the day before I was ready to change my flight and go home, today has really turned it all around. We catch up, we chat, we drink, it’s just lovely. But then I have to say goodbye to him and it’s my turn to cry. A lot. The realisation that he’s moving 3000 miles further away from me and I have no clue when I will get to see him again really hits me and I have a weep on him.

Eric, John and I then go to an all night diner for some food. It’s like 1:45am, so it’s perfect timing for a burger I always think. Both Eric and I are so tired by this point, we get a cab home and I am in bed and asleep by 3am. I manage to sleep until 6:45am which is better than nothing but dear God, when will this jet lag ever end?

PCB and the NYC Return, Part Three (Such a beautiful disaster)

Yes, sadly Friday of last week is when everything went to shit. Remember how I had a job interview and a date lined up for today? They both were cancelled. The person who was supposed to be interviewing me is having work done at her apartment. An idiot workman left a tool box in the middle of the floor for her to trip over, which she did, falling on to her elbow and chipping the bone in the process. She's been signed off work until Monday, and of course I leave on Sunday. She emails me and tells me to meet with a colleague of hers instead. So I do and he seems mystified as to why I am there because "we're not actually hiring right now". Great.

My date, bless him, got strep throat and was quarantined. So instead of spending the night with him, I was back on Lottie's couch. We planned to see Babel but I was too tired. I toyed with the idea of seeing a show, but was too tired. My friend Erik wanted to hang out but a big miscommunication meant that didn't happen either. So I was asleep by 10pm. Of course, I woke up again at 4am. Great.

PCB and the NYC Return, Part Two (Travel, Arrival)

I booked my flight with Delta as it was the only direct flight I to NYC I could find out of Gatwick for the time I wanted to leave. Ideally, I wanted to fly into Newark, but I had to settle for JFK. No biggie. So I get to the airport, planning to get away with just hand luggage. My bag is one inch bigger than the maximum dimensions allowed one way and one inch shorter another way, so the capacity is still the maximum allowed. However, unless your bag fits EXACTLY into this box they have at check in, you aren’t allowed to take it on the plane. So they made me check my bag. Bastards.

It then turned out to be Delta’s inaugural flight to JFK from Gatwick, so there is canapés and cake at the departure gate, which is kind of fun. The flight itself is fine except it’s not quite full and I am lucky enough that the seat in front of me is unoccupied. So of course, the unspeakable cunt in the seat next to it, moves into the empty seat and then reclines and sprawls her ass across both seats for the entire flight. I spend 7 hours with my knees jammed pointedly in her back. It’s only when I land that things start to go a little haywire. It has never taken me more than twenty minutes to get through immigration and customs and then into a cab. But I’ve always flown BA up until now. As well as my flight from Gatwick, 7 other flights from Europe arrive AT THE SAME TIME. Consequently, the immigration line looks like the line for a theme park ride at the height of summer and it takes over an hour to get through. Fun. The line for cabs was similarly ridiculous. And then, there’s some crazy storm coming apparently (there’s a tornado watch in South Jersey and everything), so everyone is leaving work early and so Manhattan is gridlocked. Having landed at just before 2pm, I finally make it to my dear friend Eric’s office at 4:45pm.

Ah yes, let me just say a word about Eric. He’s been such a rock throughout the past year, I honestly don’t know what I would have done without him. I’m so excited to see him again I can’t hardly stand it. We immediately head over to Billy’s Bakery to indulge my craving for red velvet cake. He very sweetly buys me my slice and a cup of coffee. Then we wander up 8th Avenue to midtown and I try my luck at getting tickets for The Vertical Hour. Result, they have some partially obstructed view seats for $60. I am staying tonight with my equally dear friend Lottie, freshly moved to Noo Joizey from West Hollywood. I’m meeting her at 6:15pm at my favourite diner and have fooled her into thinking we’re seeing Spring Awakening. A pit stop at the Walter Kerr to say hi to another rock like friend, Jerby, pick up my cell phone charger and drop my bag in for him to look after and I’m at Renaissance Diner right on time.

It’s so exciting to see Lottie too. To find someone who is so on my wavelength about so much (though not of course everything) is a real rarity. We met 5 years ago in line at a Tori Amos concert and have been firm friends ever since. So we catch up on each other’s news and then before we know it, it’s time to head out to the theatre. We step outside to discover the much heralded rain storm has most definitely arrived. A short walk from 50th and 9th to 45th and 8th results in being absolutely soaked to the bone. Thankfully the seats directly in front of us are not sold as they’re too obstructed view-wise, so we get to hang our coats up and drip dry for the two and a half hours of the play.

And what of the play? Sadly, it’s not great. It was very weak and everything about it felt very forced. David Hare hates Americans so much that he can’t write a convincing American character anymore and thus poor Julianne Moore is struggling with some clumsy material. Through no fault of her own, she is acted off the stage by Bill Nighy. Somewhat more troubling for her is her character in it is in favour of the current conflict in Iraq and the kind of people who are going to go see the new David Hare play on Broadway aren’t going to be in favour of that. Consequently, they hate her character and her reception at the curtain call was muted, to say the least.

And then it’s time for the purchasing of the new laptop. After the horror of trying to get served in the Apple Store in Soho last summer, I decided it would be easier to go late at night to the new 5th Avenue Superstore. I was right. I am served with my new and beautiful iBook in moments. It’s so white and shiny and pretty. He needs a name though, something to reflect his streamlined beauty. I’m still thinking on it, all suggestions gratefully received. Slight hiccup in my card being declined so I had to call them and prove that it was me, I was in NY and I was trying to spend $1200. Not what you need when you’re heading into the 24th hour of being awake.

Then it’s back to Lottie’s absolutely enormous loft apartment in New Jersey. We catch up some more and I play with the new laptop and then suddenly it’s 2am and I am shattered. I crash out on the couch, safe in the knowledge that such tiredness overrules the jetlag and I’ll sleep right through to 9am at least. So I’m obviously thrilled when I wake up at 4am and despite my best efforts, I don’t go back to sleep….

To be continued.

PCB and the NYC Return, Part One

We'll start with the reasons why I decided to go back for a long weekend:

One of my dearest and closest friends lives in NYC. He has just landed a job in LA and is leaving on Dec 1st. He had a Goodbye NY party this past Saturday at Beauty Bar. I decided to fly out and surprise him at the party. Due to the top secret nature of my trip, I had to keep it very quiet, no mention of it on here at all and only a select few New York friends were told I was coming. I was there for such an insanely small amount of time, I had to restrict myself to the people I have come to know the best and and miss the most.

I also had a job interview lined up for the Friday. Plus a hot date with a guy I've been talking to online for like a year now on the Friday night. This trip had the potential to be truly life changing in those regards. I have been secretly working on a possible job connection for a few weeks, telling absolutely nobody about it. Reason being, if it all fell apart, I couldn't face having to say to everyone again that it had done so. You know?

But the real question is, how could I afford to up and fly out to NYC on such a whim? Well, remember how I work at American Express? If you work there, they will approve you for a card without doing a credit check. Well, more fool them. So I got myself a RED card and away I went. My boss was telling me how, if you get an Amex card, and you treat it well, your credit rating sky rockets reasonably quickly. I didn't think she was serious until I applied for an Egg card online after having my RED card for just 4 months. I was instantly approved, with a limit of £3500. So, when Guido was telling me of his party plans on AIM, my train of thought was literally "I can't afford to fly out and see him, so annoying. Wait a second, yes I can." And my flight was booked the next day.

To be continued...

RIP Robert Altman

While I may have run hot and cold where his films were concerned (Pret A Porter remains one of the worst films I have ever seen, while The Player is a work of genius), there's no denying that Hollywood lost a unique and visionary filmmaker on Monday.

A summary

So, what has been happening, other than my boss not knowing what buggery was? Actually, not a huge amount. I obviously have a new laptop and the story behind its purchase is a whole entry in itself. That’s coming, so stay tuned.

I did get to see some of the movies on my radar. Starter For Ten, The Prestige and Saw III to be exact. I have to say I really enjoyed Starter For Ten. James McAvoy is always fun to watch and he elevated the material to a whole different level with the kind of performance you don’t usually see in a flimsy rom com. Rebecca Hall was also utterly fantastic as one of the two women he finds himself drawn too. Ms Hall also turned up in The Prestige as Christian Bale’s doomed wife and on the basis of these two performances, I would say she’s going to be a name to watch. The Prestige was great, though I got the feeling it has been massively over simplified from its source novel. I guessed all the twists before they happened, anyway. Scarlett Johansson gave her first below par performance, bless her. She was struggling so hard to do a British accent, she totally forgot to act. And she sounded like me when I do an impression of someone doing a bad accent, which didn’t help. Saw III was shit. Not even worth talking about.

Work trundles on aimlessly enough. The summer backlog is well and truly out of the way though, we say amen and hallelujah. Financially that’s not a good thing as it means bye bye overtime. Gutted. On the other hand, it turns out that overdraft charges have been deemed unlawful in the UK and if you go about it in the right way, you can reclaim six years worth of charges back from your bank. I went through three years worth of internet statements (thank GOD for internet banking) and mine have charged me £1046. So I’m in the process of sending letters to get it all back.

Which brings us neatly back to the story of How I Bought My Laptop. I went to New York for a long weekend. There were many reasons behind it, not just my overwhelming need to own a new laptop. The full story of PCB Takes Manhattan will follow soon enough.

Normal programming is back on the air

Later today there will be a return to the normal level of activity of this blog. Please stand by for further updates.

Deleted

Due to my blog suddenly becoming a little bit popular at work, I'm not taking any risks and deleting this entry.

Blog, Interrupted

Wednesday morning, while getting ready to go to London, I tipped over a cup of coffee. Into my laptop. The keyboard and mouse pad were initially a little unhappy but after being dried off and cleaned up, they were working fine. So I turned it off and went out for the day. I came home, turned it on to check my email. And nothing. Nada.

I checked with a mac expert who advised to dry it out thoroughly in an airing cupboard. I did, and last night it worked again, connecting to the internet just fine. However, the coffee had moved to behind the screen somehow so he advised turning it off and returning it to the airing cupboard. I did and now this morning when I turn it on, it gets as far as the grey start up screen. And no further. Shit.

I am on my housemate's desktop right now but obviously my access to that is limited. Since my cunty cunt of a boss moved desks and can see everything I am doing, my net access at work took a dive too. So blogging for the near future is going to be erratic to say the least. Sigh.

I demand a recount

You scored as Straight Acting. Heya your on the straight and narrow but still enjoy a good cute guy with a pint of beer. Straight Acting 60% A Big Bear 60% The all-round cute gay guy 50% Raging Queer 50% S + M guy 40% Straight 10% Straight Queer Basher 0% What type of Gay are YOU? created with QuizFarm.com

This is NOT RIGHT I tell you!

Brad Pitt is all in a tizzy

Apparently considering legal action against Vanity Fair for publishing pics of him from an avant garde photo shoot without his permission. But I ask you, if you looked like this, would you really mind the world seeing the pics:



I mean, I know I wouldn't. And Just Us Boys presented themselves with their first darndest thing moment in a thread discussing how great the pics are:

"In my opinion, he's hot, but way too old." So there you have it. If you are approaching 43 and still look as good as Mr Pitt does, it doesn't matter. A 26 year old faggot has deemed you too old regardless.

In other news, it's my day off today and I have another extensive fun day in London planned. So of course, I woke up 45 minutes earlier than my alarm would go off on a work day and could NOT get back to sleep. Why, body? Why do you do this to me?

Ryan and Reese

Gutted. Although I have to say it's not wholly surprising, especially after his somewhat over the top reaction when she won the Golden Globe. But still, gutted.

Halloween Disaster

So I had a wonderful idea for a Halloween cake. I was going to adulterate the red velvet cake, and wicked witch-ify it. Green sponge instead of red, black frosting instead of white. It was going to be so cool. In theory. In my head the Elpha-Cake was bright green sponge with jet black icing. One bite and you'd be defying calories.

However, first of all I toyed with the recipe, taking a recipe for a three tier cake and trying it in a two tier version. SO didn't work. The fucking thing wouldn't set in the middle but the outside was way overcooked. The sugar all separated out and rose to the top. And then there's the colour. Instead of bright Elphaba green, it ended up looking like something I had grown on my shower curtain. And the frosting turned purple instead of black. So it went in the bin. Gutted.

Fall Back

The clocks have gone back an hour and this means the summer is officially over. To mark the day, I am going to put the lyrics to one of my favourite songs up.

End of the Summer

The summer ends and we wonder where we are
And there you go, my friends, with your boxes in your car
And you both look so young
And last night was hard, you said
You packed up every room
And then you cried and went to bed
But today you closed the door and said
"We have to get a move on.
It's just that time of year when we push ourselves ahead,
We push ourselves ahead."

And it was cloudy in the morning
And it rained as you drove away
And the same things looked different
It's the end of the summer
It's the end of the summer,
When you move to another place

And I feel like the neighbor's girl who will never be the same
She walked alone all spring,
She had a boyfriend when the summer came
And he gave her flowers in a lightning storm
They disappeared at night in green fields of silver corn
And sometime in July she just forgot that he was leaving
So when the fields were dying, she held on to his sleeves
She held on to his sleeves

And she doesn't want to let go
'Cause she won't know what she's up against
The classrooms and the smart girls
It's the end of the summer
It's the end of the summer
When you hang your flowers up to dry

And I had a dream it blows the autumn through my head
It felt like the first day of school
But I was going to the moon instead
And I walked down the hall
With the notebooks they got for me
My dad led me through the house
My mom drank instant coffee
And I knew that I would crash
But I didn't want to tell them
There are just some moments when your family makes sense
They just make sense

So I raised up my arms and my mother put the sweater on
We walked out on the dark and frozen grass
The end of the summer
It's the end of the summer
When you send your children to the moon

The summer ends and we wonder who we are
And there you go, my friends, with your boxes in your car
And today I passed the high school, the river, the maple tree
I passed the farms that made it
Through the last days of the century
And I knew that I was going to learn again
Again, in this less hazy light
I saw the fields beyond the fields
The fields beyond the fields

And the colors are much brighter now
It's like they really want to tell the truth
We give our testimony to the end of the summer
It's the end of the summer,
You can spin the light to gold.

Battle of the bulge

After my posting with Jake Gyllenhaal inadvertently giving good bulge, I was idly surfing on the Just Us Boys message boards (which will in time, I am sure, throw up a darndest thing or two) and I found the following pics.

First up is Eric McCormack, in a still from Will & Grace. I stopped watching that show in the middle of season 4 so the pic below was news to me



Looks pretty impressive, no? But of course, it's TV and he's on a show that has a fairly sizeable fan base so he could have padded himself out to appear, well, fairly sizeable. However, in early seasons of the show, he was shown naked on a couple of episodes. Here's a still from one of those



Now this shot is obviously designed to make you think he's in the buff but his modesty is protected. So the bulge isn't meant to be seen by anyone. And yet it still looks roughly the same as in the first pic.

And now it's the pic of the bulge that started it all. In the season that I stopped watching Dawson's Creek due to being completely unable to tolerate that pouting idiot Katie Holmes, Chad Michael Murray popped up in some early episodes to sleep with and cheat on Jen. I remember emailing with my friend Lottie the next day, asking if she'd watched the show and whether or not my eyes had been deceiving me on the CMM front. Her reply was "Yeah I saw it and as for Jen's friend, he seemed, um, gifted". Ever since then, this has been my euphemism for the well endowed and it always will be. So that's what I mean when I say this is the bulge that started it all. Anyway, check out the gift for yourselves



Sigh. Yes, he divorced Sophia Bush after like 3 minutes, and yes he's now dating a 12 year old but look. Just look.

People on internet message boards say the darndest things 2

Okay, so I don't know if it's strictly speaking a message board, but this little nugget of madness comes courtesy of Yahoo Answers. First of all, the question:

"Hi, the other day me and my girlfriend had an argument over whos turn it was to turn the dishwasher on. One thing led to another and it turned into a full scale fight. To cut a long story short I lost my rag when she pulled down and ripped up all my Kelly Brook posters off the living room wall.I therefore retaliated by attacking her italian pottery of body parts. i ended up destroying the 2 items i mentioned in my question. I think the ornaments cost her quite a few pennies so do you think I should apologise?"

I can't believe this is an actual serious genuine question, can you? But let's say it is. Surely it's rhetorical, no? Anyway, here's the answer that, if I were a cartoon character, would have made my eyes pop out of my head:

"I WOULDN'T SAY ANYTHING BLAME IT ON THE PET IF YOU HAVE 1 IF NOT JUST KEEP RUNNING DOWNT STOP OR SHELL CRUSH YOUR B.LLS"

All grammar, punctuation and hideous hideous caps are left intact from the original posting.

And I've had such a bad day

A few weeks ago, there was some weird energy floating around and everyone seemed to be having a really rubbish day of it. Work went to hell in a handbasket with some nasty complaints that spiralled out of control. My housemate took the prize though. For those of you not keeping up with current affairs, my housemate is also my best friend of twelve years now, who happens to have very bad fibromyalgia, a fucked up back and apparently no immune system anymore. This time last year she got a hardcore case of glandular fever and since recovering from it (which in itself took six months), if you so much as cough within 10 feet of her, she is laid up in bed for a week with flu. In addition to this, and the only thing you need to know about her to make sense of the following, she has had a weird recurring fungal type skin infection on the palm of her hand since February and nothing seems to shift it. So in the middle of everyone around me at work having a shit day, she sent me this text, having just left the doctors after some blood tests:

"Well this day just gets worse! Taxi went the wrong way. Got a really gruff nurse who used both my arms like a pincushion she hated, so now bruised and many plastered on both sides and was too cowed to ask about my hand. Tried the chemist, who was Russian and not thrilled to be off his mobile, he suggested arnica (homeopathic for bruises) and vitamins. FUCKING retard! And then some mad old man told me to fuck off at the bus stop! Am now on way to another chemist, which I fully expect to explode"

I was laughing so hard by the time I got to the end of it, I had tears running down my face and couldn't speak to tell people what I was finding so funny. She was having a bad day, but a dose of Schadenfreude cheered mine right up.

Got -wood?

I spent the vast majority of yesterday watching Deadwood on DVD, making it through the end of Season 1 and the beginning of Season 2. Then in the evening, I watched the double episode debut of Torchwood. Hence the title of this entry.

Deadwood is absolutely incredible. Obviously extensively researched, it is also wonderfully written (if a little too reliant on the insult "cocksucker". If there was a drinking game based on that, you'd be shitfaced inside of five minutes) and has some of the most rounded and 3 D characterisation that I have seen on a TV show in a long time. The performances are uniformly excellent, there is genuinely not a weak one in the bunch. Stand outs are Timothy Olyphant as Seth Bullock, who I originally mistook for Michael Biehn. His chemistry with Molly Parker is just incredible. And, surprisingly, Ian McShane as Al Swearengen. I am very much not a fan of his and his performance in the stage musical version of Witches Of Eastwick was embarrassing to witness (unsurprisingly, he was fired from that show). So it's quite shocking to see him be so good here. Who would have thought it? Not I. Of course, HBO's insanity of how they haven't renewed this for its 4th season is well documented so I won't add anything there. I'm still smarting over their cancellations of Rome, Carnivale and The Comeback.

And then it was time for Torchwood. The much awaited spin off for John Barrowman for his character of Captain Jack Harkness from the first series of the new Doctor Who, this show is very much NOT for kids. Being transmitted after the 9pm watershed on a weeknight (as opposed to the Saturday teatime slot occupied by the good Doctor), this sets out its stall from the very beginning, throwing a "fuck" and a "bugger" into the first five minutes. I am not the biggest fan of sci-fi but I do love me some John Barrowman, so I gave it a whirl. It was actually great. Pleasingly twisted, it still made time for some light humour and it's not afraid to shy away from anything. In Doctor Who they never made any bones about Jack's bisexuality and so, with a later timeslot and less constraints, the first two episodes contained some boy on boy AND some girl on girl action. Good stuff. The first episode was all set up and exposition for anyone who didn't watch Who, the second dealt with an alien who took over humans and could only survive on orgasmic energy, cue some sex scenes and a smattering of nudity. Let's see if the strong opening can be maintained....

Possible new semi-regular feature from PCB

Ok lets give this a try.

Along with the "movies on my radar" month by month guide, I thought I'd try adding another fun feature. Tentatively titled "People on internet message boards say the darndest things", it's going to feature some of the more ridiculous (for whatever reason) postings I find during my trawls around the net. I should preface this entry by saying I used to be a very active member of an internet message board. When I started at American Express, I took a little break from posting there. Recently, I've been reading the site again and everything there has changed so much that I very much doubt I will ever go back and post there again. Don't get me wrong, I had a great time on there and I have met and made some wonderful friends, some of whom stop by my blog, all of whom I intend on keeping. But as far as posting on the boards again, I don't see that happening anytime soon.

Anyway, what better way to start with some posts I found on the IMDb boards? It came up on the comments section of an earlier post, I believe the one about United 93 that the IMDb boards seem to be full of a very special kind of stupidity. This morning I was perusing the Marie Antoinette boards over there and came across these prize gems of idiocy that I would like to share with you all:

First up:

"Ok i went to see this movie with my 18 year old sister she thought it was pretty good me being a 26 year old male did not I did not know if it was suppose to be serious of somewhat funny the music throughout the movie was new age? I mean i can see the artists point of view through song but damn ok here is the worst part her head does not get whacked off??? Come on it was the only reason i did not run to the movie being played next to us.."

The worst part was the lack of a beheading? Lovely!

And then I found:

"OH wow...what is there to say?
Horrible acting by Dunst. Way too over dramatic. Unrealistic accent.
Horrible costumes. Unrealitic with what they would have worn back in the century!
4. Too much modern music. They didnt even have c.d.'s in the 1700's!
that was a major plot hole!"

All I have to say about the above is WAY TO MISS THE POINT!

And I have, of course, saved the best for last.

"why did they make this movie? there no point to bring this story to the big screen. The studio that made this movie just lost money. the reason they lost money is because they had pay Kirsten Dunst salary which is probally a decent amount of money. I knew this movie would flop after i saw the trailer, it look so dumb. I am not say it dumb because it is a chick flick because i liked the notebook and other movie like that. I knew no one would pay eight dollars to see this movie. Why does the studio make these movie that place back the 1700's. I guess i am right because this movie got number 8 at the box office and only made 5 million dollars this weekend. They tried to promote this crap on all the TV stations but it stilled failed. Last week the marine came out it got number 6 and made 7 million dollars. The resaon I said that that movie only promoted on WWE Television, it was not promoted on network television like Marie Antoinette was. The director is a very good and the lead actress Kirsten Dunst has alot of talent. I hope these actress and director get better project in the future. I hope this last movie about this crap."

For once, words truly fail me.



So there you are. This feature will not exclusively be about the IMDb boards, though God knows they are such a treasure trove of dumbfuckery, they'll feature fairly often.

A little something to brighten your day

Well, to brighten the day of everyone who, like me, thinks Jake Gyllenhaal is the hottest man walking the planet. Here's a little pic of him just walking around. Wearing clothes. But not, quite obviously, wearing any underwear. God love him.

Let them watch cake

Went to see Marie Antoinette last night. Had some crazy old man in the front row who apparently had the hearing of a bat, because every time I took a swig of my drink, he would wheel round and glare at me for disturbing him. It wasn't even like I was rustling crisp bags or something. Whatever.

Anyway, the film itself was an odd confection. A bit like watching Dangerous Liaisons and Cruel Intentions at the same time. The narrative was a little too flimsy. I know her objective was to humanise Marie Antoinette and in that she succeeded, but it needed a stronger framework to support itself. None of the characters, save the title one, came into sufficient focus. A shame, because every frame was a work of art to look at. If as much care had been poured into the script as it had into the mise en scene, this would have been a masterpiece, one that rivalled the aforementioned Frears movie, rather than invited less than flattering comparisons to it.

Movies On The PCB Radar: November 2006

November 3rd:

Nothing. Not a single damned thing. You know why? Because Borat comes out today and nothing else bothered to challenge it as it's widely expected to be a huge smash. Well I fail to see the humour in the character and I think Sacha Baron Cohen is a fucking cunt, so I'll be giving this one a wide berth.

November 10th:

Ah ha! Now this is more like it. First up we have



I am very much looking forward to this. It opened in the States this weekend (sigh, the Limeys are so behind) to strong reviews and I hope strong box office too. It's a great cast, a mightily talented director and an intriguing plot. Not overly keen on the poster though.

Next up is



Which, if the trailer is anything to go by, we can file under C for Curiosity. It looks fundamentally odd and the fact that the Arbus estate withheld the rights to all her works doesn't exactly bode well. Still. Shainberg is the man who gave us Secretary and Downey Jr is never less than interesting to watch. I used to be the hugest advocate of Nicole Kidman but now I find her too distractingly thin and brittle to watch. I can't help but think this would have been a happier match of actress and material if Samantha Morton hadn't backed out.

And then there's



Anthony Minghella is back. After the relative disappointment of Cold Mountain (though I still loved it), he has shied away from adaptations in favour of writing directly for the screen. A tale of an architect whose chance encounter with a burglar at his office causes his love life to spin off its axis, this could end up being a strong contender for my film of the year. And I could watch Juliette Binoche in anything. She's absolutely glorious. Love her.

Finally this week, there's



Which couldn't be more British if it tried. A story about a teenager adapting to life at university, it stars James McAvoy who I have loved since Bright Young Things (it floors me every time I hear him use his real accent. He's SO Scottish and there's never a trace of it in his performances unless of course it's required). It also stars Dominic Cooper, so all the History Boys groupies will be fawning over this I don't doubt. Well back off, bitches. He's mine, remember?


November 17th:

Well it seems all the films were squeezed into that week because this week sees just one major movie release. But it's a doozy.



Oh. My. God. I am officially so very fucking excited. Daniel Craig has been a controversial choice for Bond (there are websites devoted to boycotting the movie and everything) but I think he'll be top notch. Anyone who saw Layer Cake will surely think the same. He can do suave and sophisticated while being rugged and gruff. Perfect. He is also a fine actor, a higher caliber than a lot of his predecessors (please note I said "a lot" and not "all" so the Connery fans can pipe down at the back). A Bond film is always a reason for PCB to get happy and this promises to be a cut above. Joy.

November 24th:

Presumably expecting the Casino to be Royale for a little while, the final weekend in November only sees one noteworthy release. But it's another that has PCB all in a tizzy.



Yes, really. I just think it's going to be wonderful. The story of a girl in Franco era Spain retreating into her imaginary world doesn't sound that wonderful. But this is from the man who gave us The Devil's Backbone and HellBoy, so if anyone can pull it off, he can. Oh, Santa Clause 3 also opens, but like I give a shit, right?

Grudgier

Saw Grudge 2 this afternoon. I expected it to suck. It did not disappoint me. Stuffed full with bad dialogue, paper thin characters and shaky performances, it was also criminally dull. And, a few minor jumps aside, I laughed out loud during some of the "scarier" moments. Bless.

This is my 100th post. If ONLY it were more meaningful.

Movies On The PCB Radar: Remainder of October 2006

I thought, for shits and giggles, I would do a month by month breakdown of all the upcoming movie releases that are, for one reason or another, catching my eye. So let's start with what's left of October.

This weekend:



I know I know, booed at Cannes, historically inaccurate blah blah blah. I really rate Sofia Coppola as a director though and it looks gorgeous. Whether or not it'll be interesting to watch is open for debate. That it will be endlessly fascinating to look at is a foregone conclusion. Who the hell designed that ugly ass poster though?



Does this one need an explanation?



Now I should start by saying I FULLY expect this to suck. The first one was absolute rubbish, an incoherent pile of fright free gubbins. But I love Amber Tamblyn. I'm sorry but I do. So I'll see this. And not be scared by it.


Next weekend:



While we're on the subject of pointless sequels to horror movies....I will defend the first movie as being truly inventive, creepy and by the end, downright terrifying. It did not need a sequel. It sure as hell does not need a second sequel.



Though this creepy little chiller is apparently by all accounts a brilliant film. It comes laden with praise from just about every film festival in the Northern hemisphere. We'll see.



Already come and gone in the US, the reviews were very harsh. But with a cast like that, I'm going to see it whatever, aren't I?

Wasn't as tough as I expected

Managed to make it through yesterday emotionally unscathed, which was an acheivement. I guess it helped that work was crazy busy and I got to be mean to someone who wasn't happy with the outcome of their complaint. Then, when I was on overtime in the call centre, I got to be mean to someone who had used their card incorrectly. Ah, so satisfying. Also, there are a couple of guys in the call centre who I absolutely adore and who, without realising it, brightened my day no end with their idle banter. Though I think I shocked the office a little. I forgot a) how loud I can be and b) how quiet our office is. I was talking to one of the boys in the call centre on the phone, at my desk. There is a woman who works in the back office team who all the boys love. I don't really see it, but there's another woman who I think is absolutely stunning. She looks like a smudged photocopy of Scarlett Johanssen. Her name is Zora. Here's the conversation had about her:

Me: Well for me, it's all about Zora.
Upstairs Boy: What does she look like?
Me: Kind of like Scarlett Johanssen. She's absolutely gorgeous.
Upstairs Boy: No! How did I not know about her?
Me: I dunno, I am sure I have mentioned her before.
Upstairs Boy: And she's really that attractive?
Me: Oh hell yes. I would totally hop the fence for Zora.

At which point, EVERYBODY stopped what they were doing and looked at me. So now we all know I have the hots for Zora. Mercifully she moved to a different department in Amex on Friday so I was saved the embarrassment of her also hearing. Whew.

But on the way to work, it was a whole different story. I can't stop listening to Caroline, Or Change. During my 35 minute walk to work yesterday, "Lot's Wife" came on. Every time I listen to that song, every hair on my body stands up and I get chills like crazy anyway. However, yesterday when it got to "Take Caroline away cause I can't be her, take her away I can't afford her" I got so overwhelmed I nearly started crying. In the street. I managed to pull it together but I remember thinking "Oh dear today is going to suck". And I was wrong.

Today could be a difficult day

One year ago today, I flew home from my three month job hunt in New York. I vividly remember leaving a note for my flatmates as they were all at work when I left for the airport. I remember writing that I was fighting back tears, and I was. I was so miserable to be leaving. The misery was however, at that point, leavened by the fact that I had the offer of a job. From how they were talking in my last interview, they wanted me back asap and would try and put everything in place to have me back by Thanksgiving, but failing that, Christmas. And here we are.

The Devil and The Departed

I finally got round to seeing these two movies, which opened last week. I have let so many movies slide over the summer and into the early autumn, and there are SO MANY coming up that I am dying to see that I figured if I don't see these now, then I never will. And I'm so glad I did.

The Devil Wears Prada was silly fun but at least it knew and revelled in this fact. I have a secret crush on Anne Hathaway anyway (I totally watched Ella Enchanted just for her) so even if this movie SUCKED, I would still have enjoyed watching her. But it didn't suck. It made me laugh and it didn't bore me. Meryl Streep was glorious fabulous as Miranda Priestly, giving a performance that was a masterpiece of understatement. There is something far more unsettling about contained fury and it's much more interesting to watch. However, the film belongs to Emily Blunt, who as Miranda's first assistant, has a fair amount of the best lines and lands them all with a deadly accuracy. I've been a fan since I saw her first ever professional performance on stage opposite Judi Dench so it's pleasing that she stole so much of the limelight here. Eye candy came in the form of Adrian Grenier. But he always looks dirty to me. And not dirty in a fun sexy way, but dirty in a "here's some soap" kind of way.

The Departed is sheer genius. Scorcese's best major film since GoodFellas. A remake of the Infernal Affairs trilogy collapsed into one big movie, the 150 minute running time actually feels too short. Hopefully there will be a 4 hour director's cut some day. The performances, the editing, the direction, all are spot on. For me the biggest surprise was Jack Nicholson, who's always Jack Nicholson, but even he decided to turn in a performance. Okay it wasn't perfect, it was a titch incoherent in places, but that I think is down to the running time. There is, of course, Oscar buzz for this already. I don't think it will win anything. I'd even be surprised to see it nominated to be perfectly honest. Why? It's too violent and too complex for the Academy. I might be wrong, but Scorcese hasn't been shown the love from them, ever. I doubt they're about to start now.

We celebrate it even though it isn't in the Torah

So, yesterday. It was a ball, it was a blast. I made it into London with enough time to buy myself some new boots, drop off the Alias discs and make it to the theatre on time. I met up with my theatre companion at noon and the first show was not until 3pm. The reason for the lengthy pre show time was he is recently back from New York, where he had himself a time and therefore we had a LOT of catching up to do. And as I couldn't spend time with him between shows, we had to do it all before we came to the Cabaret. In addition to the NY stories, he also told me something that made me see him in a whole new light. In a good way.

So in my previous entry I mentioned my fear that Anna Maxwell Martin would be taking the afternoon off. She didn't and thank the baby Jesus because she was pretty much the only outstanding performance on stage over at

Cabaret

I have to say, if she weren't in it, I wouldn't have given this revival a second thought. I saw the Studio 54 revival 3 times and was absolutely blown away by it each and every time. Any subsequent production I see is going to have to really go some to escape the long shadow that is inevitably cast. And this one didn't make it. I tried to take it on its own terms, really I did. But I couldn't. The main reason I couldn't is because this new revival is pretty much a smudged photocopy of the Studio 54 run and the stuff that has been altered has been changed for the worst.

The staging is off. It's unnecessarily complicated half the time and the vast majority of it is all moved around by the ensemble which just looked cheap. "Mein Herr" suffered particularly badly with the cast wheeling on a huge box, splitting it in two and having Anna Maxwell Martin climb up between the two halves and sing the number while they all danced behind her and were blocked from view by said huge box. Weird. And more than a little annoying after the cunning staging of "Don't Tell Mama" with the beds upended and used as cages. Ah well. It was almost like two people directed alternate scenes because it would go from great to shit to great to shit again.

I'm all for reworking scenes but if you're gonna change something, change it for the better. "If You Could See Her" ditched the gorilla motif and instead had the EmCee in an outfit that had a pig bride on the rear. Didn't work. At all. The interval had been moved to the first appearance of "Tomorrow Belongs To Me" which was turned into a full blown number replete with a naked ensemble. Which is fine but the way it was staged before signified the rise of Nazism, from a harmless song by a choirboy to a chilling singalong at the engagement party. Here we go from full blown number to Fraulein Kost singing it alone at the party. Weird and, it must be said, unsuccessful.

Performance wise, James Dreyfuss doesn't cut it as the EmCee. Not sexy, not menacing, not really anything. "Money" was great though, I'll give him that and it was the best choreographed number of the show. Sheila Hancock as Fraulein Schneider was fine but that was to be expected I mean, she's Sheila Hancock. Harriet Thorpe's Fraulein Kost was also fine but couldn't do a German accent. Neither could anyone else in the show, alas. The rest of the performances ranged from average to awful. Shame.

It was all about Anna Maxwell Martin. She's truly phenomenally talented. And while her recent BAFTA winning performance in Bleak House has increased her visibility, I truly think she'll be another Kelly Reilly in that she never stops working, the critics always adore her but she stays off the fame radar. Which is fine with me. Her Sally Bowles was a thing of rare and special beauty. Desperately aware of her limited talents and trying oh so very hard to maintain the pretence of fabulousness, it was a brilliantly nuanced performance. She's taken a lot of flak for her apparent inability to sing, but of course Sally Bowles can't. So her performance numbers were deliberately lame but she nailed her book songs plus the title number, which is the most crucial moment in the whole show. All in all though, I would file this whole experience under 'disappointing'.

And then it was over to the National for the first preview of

Caroline, Or Change

I'm always wary of first previews. Particularly at the National where due to having shows running in rep, their tech time is always insufficient. Also, I was wary of the show as a whole because despite owning the cast recording and trying to listen to it several times, I haven't been able to get through it. Well, I needn't have worried on any count.

The show is utterly fascinating. Structurally flawed and musically all over the place, but never less than fascinating. After seeing Idina in Wicked I said I was no longer that annoyed at her Tony win. Well now I've seen Tonya Pinkins's Caroline and I'm furious all over again. I am amazed that a performance as incredible as this could be so overlooked. It's legendary, historic, matchless. Her character is prickly and unlikeable, even pious. But you warm to her, you sympathise with her. And the emotion she unleashes during "Lot's Wife" has to be heard to be believed. It blew the back wall out of the theatre, chilled me to the bone and ultimately moved me. She's surrounded by a host of excellent performances (Anna Francolini as Rose Stopnick is a joy) but she leaves them all in the dust. If the Tony debacle is repeated over here with the Oliviers, I swear before holy God....

Well this is fun

Those of you keeping up with current events will know that today I am heading up to London for a packed day of fun. As well as seeing two shows (the matinee of Cabaret(hopefully, only want to see it because Anna Maxwell Martin is Sally Bowles and the poor lamb has been missing some shows while struggling with a virus. Opening night was last night so she had to go on and so potentially she might take this afternoon off, who knows?) followed by the evening performance of Caroline, Or Change), I have to do some shopping and return all those Alias discs to the friend I borrowed them from BEFORE I meet my theatregoing companion at noon. In the two hour between show time, I have dinner with another friend planned. Busy. Packed day.

So it's only fair and right that I should enter my third week of sleeping like total shit. I've been waking up in the night for no apparent reason and/or waking up before my alarm goes off by some margin. This week, it upped the ante a little and for the past three mornings I have woken up at 6:30am having not been able to get to sleep the night before. Which is harsh enough when you have to get up an hour later for work. But when you don't have to get up until nearly 9am, it's really fucking annoying. Ah well. In other news, I have now lost 30lbs. Slowly but surely, slowly but surely.....

I'm out of the vortex. For now

I am free, for now, from the grip of Sydney Bristow. 88 episodes in three weeks, not bad going. The show is insanely brilliant, if a little all over the place and I shall pass full judgement on the show with a proper blog entry when I have watched the final 17 episodes that are season 5. The cliffhanger of season 4 is an absolute humdinger, I have to say and that I have to wait until Nov 20th for that season to be released on DVD is torture. At least I have two season of Deadwood to occupy me in the meantime and season 5 of 24 is out on Nov 6th. TV whore? Me?

In other news, I attended a preview screening of The History Boys this morning. Now, some of you will be aware that I managed to miss this play with the original cast on both sides of the Atlantic, so the movie is a nice consolation prize. I loved it. It's beautifully written and the fact that the original cast are all in the movie obviously means the performances are all spot on. I was distracted by just how enormous Richard Griffiths has gotten though. I was entranced by Frances De La Tour, her effortlessness and her indescribably wonderful voice. As for the boys, well Samuel Barnett was as glorious as I had heard he was and of course, Dominic Cooper was a sensation. But he's mine, MINE, do you hear me? I have loved him since he made his stage debut in Mother Clap's Molly House about 5 years ago. The scene where he seduces Stephen Campbell Moore's Irwin was so intense I could barely stand it. The transition to the screen isn't 100% successful though. The ending probably works well in the theatre but the transition is so blatantly theatrical that it doesn't quite cut it on film. On the whole, I have to say the film has left me with an unshakeable feeling of profound melancholy. Which is no bad thing.

This week, I get to see the first post opening night performance of the new Cabaret revival followed by the first preview of Caroline, Or Change. I am so very excited. I'm seeing them with a dear friend who has recently been in NYC so we have a lot of catching up to do. I can't wait. It'll be a welcome relief as work has been so very harsh this past week. Lots of nasty problems to be dealing with and I have clashed more than once with people in higher positions than me into the bargain. Fun.

I apologise for this interruption to your blogging service

But I have been sucked into an Alias vortex and I just can't escape. A friend has loaned me seasons 1-4 and I am utterly addicted, I've ploughed through 60 episodes in a scarily small amount of time (9 days). Only 28 to go and then a frustratingly long wait until Season 5 is out on DVD....

Booker Dischord

I'm stopping my previously announced challenge to read all 19 books on the Booker Prize longlist. Why, I hear you ask. Well, because the shortlist blows. David Mitchell, who really should have won, hasn't made the cut. Claire Messud, whose utterly wonderful The Emperor's Children I am currently loving every page of, has been similarly dismissed. Edward St Aubyn, who I was sort of underwhelmed by and stated that I would be surprised to see him on the shortlist, is indeed on the shortlist. I mean, fine you were raped by your father from age 6 to 8 and then you had a massive heroin habit through college and into your 20's so it's a miracle you can even string a sentence together, but come on. So once I'm done with Ms Messud, I'll be reading something else. Probably Stephen King's new one, after the return to form of Cell.

Alright enough so be it, so be it then...

...Let all Oz be agreed, I'm



through and though.


I went to the matinee yesterday. Let me start by saying it's a Wednesday afternoon, one week before press night. Wicked's London home, the Apollo Victoria is a cavernous barn, some 400 seats BIGGER than the Gershwin. It was sold out. Not bad going, though I did find myself wondering if it would be a repeat of the London run of The Producers and after the Tony Award winning Broadway star departs, so do the audience. I guess we'll see.

Now, as far as the show goes, I can take it or leave it. There are a handful of really great songs, a bigger handful of less than great songs. The character arcs are very badly done and the book as a whole is a mess. If it weren't for Idina Menzel, I probably wouldn't have bothered paying for a ticket. But I'm very glad I did.

There's been a lot of internet chatter about how the cast (Idina aside) aren't great, the English accents don't work, the sound in the auditorium is bad, Galinda isn't landing a laugh, Adam Garcia is the worst Fiyero on the planet and so on and so forth. Well, with one exception, none of the negative online stuff I've read was true of what I saw yesterday. The sound is a bit off sometimes, with people being drowned out by the orchestra. But that's it.

Helen Dallimore is very good as Glinda. She's posh and she's perky and she's infinitely less cutesy and cloying than Kristin Chenoweth. She's managing to land 80% of her funny lines now and the other 20% will come if she stops rushing them. Adam Garcia is a joy as Fiyero, he's hot, he's vain, he can sing and dance. I just want to know who the hell designed his "Dancing Through Life" costume because I could totally tell his religion and I was halfway back. Miriam Margolyes is a very funny Madam Morrible even if she does choose (perhaps wisely) to speak when she should sing. Nigel Planer is the only Brit attempting an American accent as The Wizard and he doesn't quite pull it off. He has nice chemistry with Idina though and he can sing the role just fine. The ensemble are all fine and it's a relief to hear them using British accents rather than failing horribly at American ones. I mean, it's Oz, not the USA, so it's not like it matters, right?

However, the show belongs to the green one. Maybe she's thrilled to be back in the role that brought her acclaim and she can finally get closure after her unceremonious plummet through the trap door meant she missed her last show on Broadway. Maybe she's happy to be London's highest paid theatre actress ever. I don't know what, but after yesterday I am no longer annoyed she won the Tony. And I was. I didn't see her perform the role in person on Broadway, but I saw a bootleg of a preview and was underwhelmed. Then I heard a bootleg of the matinee before Tony night and she was awful. But yesterday she was absolutely fucking sensational. "Defying Gravity" might just be one of the best act one closing songs ever staged and she nailed it in style. When it got to "so if you care to find me", every hair on my body stood up. And stayed that way until about half way through intermission. "No Good Deed" was similarly astonishing. And she acted the role up a storm into the bargain. So take a bow, Deeny. Well played. Well played indeed.

I love IKEA. Kinda.

Did I mention my mattress bargain? When the emotionally fragile sister moved out, she took her bed with her of course. The crippled lesbian scanned the second hand websites and found a super king size Ikea mattress Which was £200 new. For £80, I got the mattress, a mattress topper and a bed linen set thanks to her bargaining skills. It's possibly the comfiest mattress I have ever slept on. But I grew tired of sleeping on the floor with it and thanks to a local service who will go to Ikea for you and deliver the stuff to your door, I ordered (among other things) a bedframe from them.

Not being a DIY expert (anyone shocked by that? Thought not), I was not looking forward to putting it together. So I am relieved when it arrives that it's simple to do and not terribly heavy either. The mattress, on the other hand, weighs a fucking ton, and hefting that thing out of my room to put the bed together and then back on to the bed is no easy task. Anyway, as a super king size bed is the size of two single beds pushed together, Ikea's genius idea for a bed base is to give you a midbeam and two single wooden slatted bed bases. Fine. The midbeam is galvanized steel and very very sturdy but it slots into the bed frame in the flimsiest way imaginable. After putting it all together and running out to the supermarket to get light bulbs for all the lamps we bought and some lunch, I get home and settle on to the bed for an afternoon with Chris Meloni and Mariska Hargitay. Only, as I sit down on the bed to take my shoes off, the midbeam flips out of the bed frame, the bed bases fall through and one of the ribbons holding all the slats together rips. Awesome.

So, denied my lazy afternoon in the Special Victims Unit, I have to heft the world's heaviest mattress out of my room again and deconstruct the bed frame all over again. Crippled lesbian has the genius idea of securing the midbeam to the bed frame with some wire. I do that and it's as secure as secure can be. Bed base freshly glued back together, the bed is reconstructed and, much later than originally planned, I get my lazy afternoon, only now it's more early evening. Next day I feel like I rowed to France or something, which is really tragic of me, isn't it? But hey, that mattress is heavy! The bed is holding up very well, the crippled lesbian and I have had a fair few evenings lazing around on it watching TV and I also had some reasonably athletic and very very satisfying sex on it. If that didn't break it, hopefully nothing will. On a bed frame, the mattress seems even firmer and comfier than when it was on the floor which is an added bonus as I didn't think that was possible. Anyway without further ado, here's a pic of the finished article.



Pretty isn't it? Well that's all for now. Busy day ahead, there's some gravity that like totally needs defying.

My Sister's Big Fat Lesbian Wedding

Saturday

The day is finally here. We get up and put our glad rags on and head on over to the hotel for the ceremony. We arrive at around 11:15am and the ceremony is scheduled to take place at noon. After a dismal August, September has been really very nice and it's a gloriously sunny day so the ceremony takes place as planned and hoped for outside in the garden. They are married in this gazebo.



Ain't it pretty? Here are some pics of the afterwards, as you're not allowed to take pictures during the ceremony itself.



That's my sister on the left and behind her is the speech making friend you'll be reading about in a minute.



Signing the register and making their union official.



Just married and they're playing their song (A cover of "No No Never" by Texas Lightning).



The happy couple. Awwww.



Family photo. No, I'm not in it, but there was an official photographer who took a whole slew of pics and when I get copies sent to me, I'll do another entry with them. So those are my parents. Aren't they cute?

Then it's the sit down lunch at the hotel, with more of the incredible food and excellent service we'd had the previous evening. Although the hotel has hosted many receptions for same sex couples, my sister's is the first marriage to have taken place at the hotel, so the staff are all really excited about it, which was sweet. The wine is seemingly neverending and no matter how much I drink, my glass seems to always be full. Fun. Despite requesting no speeches, one of the witnesses, who has known both my sister and her now wife for about five years, insists on making a speech and having a toast. Which means champagne. The speech was nice enough but I took an instant dislike to the friend when I met her, so I only sort of half listen. I'm so terrible. After the speech, there's coffee and homemade chocolate truffles (to DIE for) and then it's on to the other hotel, the only 5 star hotel for miles around, for the evening bash.

We get there around 4:30pm and check in. The reception staff are all excited as it's the first same sex wedding they have had in the hotel. So we're two for two. I have an executive suite all to myself, so when I realise just how drunk I am, I have to take a nap. I get up and take a shower, and I am so relieved to note when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror that, despite feeling like I have, I haven't gained 30lbs. Once I'm all clean and slightly more sober than I was, I head down to the bar to meet the family, including my other aunt, uncle and cousin who, along with penny pincher aunt and her dull dull partner, have come up for the evening bash. We then head to the function room where the evening bash is being held. There's a DJ and a buffet, in proper wedding stylee. They invited 80 people but only expected 60. However, EVERYBODY came. The place is rammed, there are gifts and cards everywhere. My sister and her wife are so taken aback by that. I spend a lot of time on the dance floor, it's a fun fun fun night. My parents and the rest of the older crew retire back to the bar when the music gets really loud, so I am going between the two for a while. However, when I notice that the penny pincher's boring partner has fallen asleep in the bar, I don't go back again as I'm too annoyed. My sister's very close very gay male friend is by now very drunk and very shirtless and very all over the dancefloor which makes for some entertaining viewing. At quarter past midnight I retire to my room and try to sleep. I am so full I can't sleep right off though and actually consider getting up to purge myself. But I ride it out instead. I only managed to take one pic at the evening bash and here it is.



Sunday

Everyone who stayed over at the hotel (about 15 of us) all meet for breakfast. It's included in our room price and it's all you can eat. I'm still full from yesterday so I can't take full advantage of this. Shame. We then check out and head back to the house. The newlyweds spend the afternoon opening all their cards and gifts, by which I mean my sister laid around groaning about being hungover while her wife opened them all. My sister kept saying "I wasn't going to drink and I wasn't going to dance. I got pissed and danced all night, I don't know how that happened." Then she'd groan again. They're flying to Turkey for a week's honeymoon tonight at 10pm so they have a LONG day ahead. I am also feeling a titch fragile and not looking forward to the train journey. I say goodbye to the newlyweds who invite me back to stay for a weekend soon then my parents drive me to the station. We say goodbye it's all quite emotional and then I'm on the train for the fastest smoothest train journey ever. It arrives into London 8 minutes early which enables me to make my connection to Brighton half an hour earlier than I would have done and door to door my journey is a little over 4 hours. So there you are, that was my sister's wedding. The best thing is they are deciding what to do with their names now they're married. Our family name is Hunter. My sister's wife's family name is Fox. My sister is dying to double barrel it and be a Fox-Hunter.

Pre Wedding Jitters

My parents flew in late last Tuesday night and stayed with my aunt in Kent for a few days prior to the wedding. I went down to join them on...

Wednesday

I got a train from Brighton in the afternoon and got to my aunt's at around 4pm. My parents are thrilled to see me, ecstatic over my almost 30lb weight loss, and so on. My aunt and her partner (who I HATE) spend the evening making passive aggressive comments about all my books and cds which they have stored in their attic for me. I ignore them, as I do with any and all passive aggressive comments.

Thursday

Today is wedding outfit shopping day. As my parents are paying for all clothing purchased today and I need two outfits (one for the wedding on Saturday and another for the family dinner tomorrow night), I refuse to buy something I wouldn't wear again after this weekend and go with smart casual. I have my outfits picked out inside of an hour. My aunt is along for the journey but not buying anything. She is obsessed with money, not just her money either, but other people's. As I couldn't give two shits about spending money, this quickly becomes wearing. My mother's outfit is also found relatively quickly. The shoes and handbag to go with it takes a little longer. While my mother and father tackle the shoes, my aunt and I go in search of a handbag for her. I find one, and the first question my aunt asks is how much it costs. When I say it's £30, she grimaces and says "that's so much money". I have to bite back from saying "well you're not paying for it so it doesn't really matter how much money it is, does it?"

When we get home, my aunt then reveals herself to be a feeder. About an hour and a half before dinner, she brings out a truckload of crisps and dips and when I seat myself out of reaching distance, keeps handing them to me. Three times she asks me if I would like a glass of wine, three times I decline. On the third decline, she hands me one anyway. Dinner is absolutely MASSIVE and then a little while after that she brings out ice cream and chocolate. Now tomorrow, my parents and I are driving the 5 hour drive up to Hull. It's been agreed that I would cadge a lift back with the aunt and her hateful hateful boyfriend on the Sunday. They're too tight to drop me back in Brighton (extra fuel, you know) and so we try and agree on a place to drop me. As I know that Gatwick Airport is only a 40 minute drive from their house, I suggest that as it's only 30 minutes on the train for me. My aunt's reply was "well that will add about 90 minutes to our journey, so no. How about we drop you at Epping tube station?" My response to that was "so to shave 90 minutes off your journey, you want to add three hours to mine? I would have to get the subway all the way into the centre of London which would take forever. I'll just book a train, thanks for nothing".

Friday

So today's the day I get to meet the girlfriend, wife to be. We leave for the epic journey to Hull at around 10:45am, the traffic is horrendous and we get to Hull at around 4:30pm. My ass is numb. Thank God I had my iPod with me. My parents had a very bad car accident in Spain a few years back and since then, my mother's nerves when it comes to driving in the UK are pretty much shot. Unfortunately for her, my father is almost legally blind. He had a detached retina in one eye years ago and it was reattached but his vision was never fabulous in that eye. A year or so ago, he had a blocked tear duct in his other eye, he's had two operations to try and sort it out, neither have worked. However, as well as a blocked tear duct he's now getting a cataract in that same eye. So he's not really able to drive anymore. My mother drives all the way but I lose count of the times she slams on the brakes for no apparent reason.

So we arrive and I finally meet the love of my sister's life. No reference is made to anything and we immediately are relaxed and ok with each other. I like her a lot, she obviously thinks the world of my sister, so it's all good. She's a big TV lover so we have lots of shows to talk about (we mainly focused on Lost since the shock deaths of Ana Lucia and Libby just aired here). I get a tour of their gorgeous house and then it's time to get ready for dinner. See, tonight it's family dinner at the hotel/stately home where the ceremony and afternoon reception will be taking place as my sister and her wife to be are staying there tonight and we're staying in their gorgeous house. The dinner is on them, which was lovely of them, their thank you to us. Thanking us for what, I'm not sure :-). It has become apparent that my parents are now totally ok with having two gay kids, not least because they confirmed something I have suspected for ages, which is that they are thrilled to not have any grandkids. They would hate to have that extra responsibility and love the fact that they are free to travel around the world (which they are planning to do), without feeling any kind of guilt. This makes me very happy. The meal is a hit, the food is amazing and the venue for the wedding is absolutely gorgeous. We leave the ever more nervous soon to be newlyweds to their bridal suite and head back to their house for the evening.

Next up: The wedding itself, with pictures.

My Sister & The Family Reunion Of Doom

Twelve years ago, my parents retired and moved to Spain. My sister and her girlfriend, about 5 years after that, moved to Hull, way the hell up north, while I stayed in London. Obviously this meant that we didn't see each other all that often. In November of 2004, my parents came over to stay with my sister and her girlfriend and I went up for the weekend.

My parents are kind of ok but not really about having two gay children at this point. That said, they absolutely love my sister's girlfriend, Hannah, and have done the whole time that she has been with my sister, which is about 8 years now. I took the Friday off work and travelled up on the train. My parents greeted me at the train station as they had arrived the night before. My sister is on some work conference and won't be home until later that evening, so the parents and I have lunch with Hannah and then go back to the house. It turns out I fucked up with my train booking. I am not going back until late Monday afternoon as I thought my parents weren't flying back until Monday night. They are actually going back on Monday early afternoon and my sister and Hannah will be at work so I will be all alone. I try and change my train ticket, it's outrageously expensive to do so. My parents enquire about changing their flight home to the Tuesday and it can be done for next to no cost, so they do that.

My sister arrives home at around 9pm, after we have all had dinner and are about to hit the sofa and lounge in front of the TV. Mary Poppins was going to be showcased on TV that night and as I worked in the box office there, we were all intrigued to see it. However, my sister stays in the kitchen drinking with my dad and we don't see either of them for the rest of the night. The layout of their house is a little odd. Right inside the front door is the office, then you walk through to the dining room and kitchen. Upstairs is the lounge, bathroom and spare bedroom, upstairs again is the master bedroom. My parents are sleeping in the spare room and I am on a very comfy very big sofa in the lounge. Obviously the girls are in the master bedroom at the top. We all go to bed, only to be awoken at 3am by massive amounts of shouting and crashing furniture. Assured by my sister that there's nothing to worry about, we all go back to sleep and wake up the next morning to Hannah weeping and packing a bag to move out.

Over the course of the morning, the whole truth emerges. My sister has been having an affair with one of her co-workers. A co-worker who is 12 years older than her, has a daughter and is going through a messy divorce. The reason we had heard all the crashing and banging the previous night is because Hannah woke up to find herself alone in bed. Curious as to where my sister might be, she went looking for her. She found her in the office, having sex with the aforementioned co-worker. Fun times.

The rest of the weekend was absolutely horrendous. My sister didn't seem to think she had done anything wrong and just carried on like nothing had happened, constantly slinking off to make phone calls to the co-worker and pretty much ignoring the fact that we are there. From the moment we all woke up on the Saturday morning, none of us wanted to be there and yet we were all trapped. It was the absolute worst weekend in our family's history.

I didn't speak to my sister for 9 months, nor did I have any interest in meeting the co-worker, now girlfriend. My argument was always what kind of idiot, when not just her girlfriend but all three members of her immediate family are sleeping upstairs, calls her illicit lover and invites her over for sex. And not only that, but what kind of dumb illicit lover ACTUALLY GOES OVER?

So you can see why I was not exactly thrilled to hear that they were getting married. I was not looking forward to seeing my sister again after almost two years, meeting her new girlfriend for the first time and all that shit. Well, how wrong can you be?

AFA: American Fuckwits Association

I couldn't believe what I was reading this morning when I saw the report that many affiliates of CBS have dropped the updated 9/11 documentary from their scheduling. Why? Because of intense lobbying from the American Family Association over the bad language from one of the interviewees. Dark Ages much? I really am stunned at how they have SO spectacularly missed the point. I made a joke a few years back that America would soon be like living in The Handmaid's Tale. Suddenly that doesn't seem so funny anymore.

You and you and nothing but you, miles and piles of you.

Apologies for the week long delay in getting this review up but I need to start by saying that dear sweet Jesus I loved every minute of it. It is of course the UK premiere run of The Last Five Years currently playing at the Menier Chocolate Factory in London.

I have been listening to and loving the OCR for a little while now and I have to say I was intrigued to see how it would be staged. The answer was simply and fluidly. A revolve, minimal props and judicious use of screens meant that the 85 minutes were entirely uninterrupted. The marriage bed on which Cathy is lying when the show opens doubles as the pier and a boat throughout the show which I personally thought was a nice touch.

But this show lives and dies on its direction and performances. The direction was unintrusive and understated. The performances blew the OCR out of the water. I didn't expect that to happen and was absolutely taken aback by it. Damian Humbley was glorious as Jamie, great voice, he really acted the songs too, getting the humour where necessary and when it came down to it, he caught the duality of "If I Didn't Believe In You" perfectly. See with that number, I always start off thinking "ah, he loves her so" and by the end I'm like "wow, you're a cunt". And his performance of "Song Of Schmuel" made me cry. Gorgeous.

The real star though is Lara Pulver as Cathy. No offence to the very beautiful and very talented Sherie Rene Scott, but there's something about her performance that's so polished. Which is fine but doesn't quite work for a jobbing actress who can't get anything better than summer stock in Ohio. So someone who is a little plainer and has a voice every bit as powerful but with a real raw edge to it really works. She was, in a word, astonishing. It's only on for another 4 weeks and I really want to see it again. Did I mention that I loved it?

This week on WHAT THE FUCK?

Ashlee Simpson has started rehearsals for her London stage stint as Roxie Hart in Chicago. Is this some kind of bad joke? 21 year old Ashlee Simpson is going to deliver the line "I'm older than I ever intended to be"? In a city where she has no fanbase? SERIOUSLY?

3 down, 16 to go

Finished my third book of the longlist the other night. It only really counts as the first of the challenge given that I'd read the other two before the list was published. Anyway, it's a wonderfully written book in some respects but none of the characters came into focus properly. It was all about them, yet there didn't seem to be room for them to breathe. Weird. I cut it a lot of slack purely because St Aubyn does have a masterful way with words (describing someone who never stopped talking, for example, he notes that "words drained out of her like an unplugged bath"). That being said, I'd be shocked, shocked I tell you, if this made it to the shortlist. I have now started on the new Jon McGregor, So Many Ways To Begin. I'm very much not enjoying it and if it doesn't buck itself up during my 2 hour round trip train journey to London today, it's going to find itself kicked to the kerb.

Yes, off to London today. Going to see The Last Five Years at the Menier, the most gorgeous little black box theatre in South London. I'm very much looking forward to it. I'll write a proper blog about it when I get back, though I can't promise when. I am going from the train to the leaving party for all the seasonal hire staff in the call centre from work which is going on until about 3am. I am then working from tomorrow clean through to next Saturday without a day off. So I'm gon' be one busy and very tired homosexual. But there will be posts about the theatre, the disappointing sex I had earlier this week and, given that her lesbian wedding is now fairly imminent, my sister.