Electro Pop <3 <3

I just wanted to share my thoughts on how much I love the new wave of electro pop that is taking over music. I don’t know about Ireland, but in London I’m very excited about new acts such as Little Boots and Ladyhawke. there’s just something so pretty, fun and enjoyable about it. It’s an addictive sound, with some lovely lyrics to boot. the tunes I’ve heard so far from these too have left me in anticipation of what else is going to come our way in 2009. (In particular check out the extended version of Stuck on Repeat by Little Boots, and Meddle, my personal favourite. Also, my Delerium and Paris is Burning by Ladyhawke.)

In this vein of thought, I have allowed myself to become entirely swept up by the pop electronic revolution and have come up with a name for my (hypothetical) electro pop outfit. Are you ready: The GinandTronics! Don’t you want to go to see them already? The only thing missing form the mix (geddit? it just gets more perfect!) is another member (to justify the plural) and some talent/ability to make decent electro music. but I have decided that the latter is superfluous to requirements these days. If Peaches Geldof can forge a career on being a talentless poser, so can I. and I’ll even be nice to people.

The Lovely Girls Festival 2008

As another long, wet summer draws to a close, it is time once again for the finest tradition in all the land : The Rose of Tralee International Festival. Paddy Powers have the odds at the ready (Cork is 3-1!), Centra have stocked up on share-size boxes of Cadbury’s Roses, and Newbridge have carefully crafted 27 contemporary takes on the medieval torque, weighing about 2 stone apiece, to adorn the necks of the young ladies. We will judge them, oh yes. We will look at how they stand, their dresses, their breathing, listen to their stories – indeed every move will come under scrutiny, for the title of loveliest girl in the land is nothing to be sniffed at.

A couple of months back I wrote of my own brush with lovely girldom when I took part in the Cork Rose competition. While not quite making it to Tralee (robbed) I did have an amazing time being a Rose, and met some cracking girls altogether. But alas, my lovely laugh was not quite lovely enough, so it was back to the uneventful, unsexy world of academia for me. I still wear the sash sometimes you know, around the house when I do the washing up, just to feel like a princess. Joking. But seriously.

Seeing as I’m leaving Ireland in a few weeks and I actually took part in the festival this year, I am even more excited than usual about the Rose of Tralee, and I’ve been glued to it every year since I was old enough to say ‘whaaat is she wearing?’ So my plan this year is to watch the first night of girls in front of the telly with a few friends, a box of chocolates and lots of tea. Then on night two I’m heading to Tralee to experience the festival for myself. I’m reliably informed by one of the locals that the best fun of all is to be had out around the streets, watching the live music and the fireworks, and that only ‘the posh people go into the dome. Wouldn’t be seen dead in there!’ I agreed via text wholeheartedly, as I whimpered and put my ‘one west-coast-cooler-for-the-lady-sandals’ back into the bottom of the wardrobe and took out my ‘mind-the-cow-shit-when-you’re-lepping-in-the-street’ pumps.

Nevertheless, I am excited. Apparently the atmosphere is great and why wouldn’t it be? The offies open late for the occasion, drinking in the street is allowed, and then the entertainment just kind of swells around you. I am looking forward to my last bit of old-fashioned Irishness of the summer before I head off for a week in the sun on Thursday.

Wherever you are planning to watch the Lovely Girls this year, I hope you enjoy it!

Me with some of the other girls at the Cork Rose 2008

Lesson for Life #2 : Never be a Hired Goon

If comic books, movies, television and cartoons have thought us anything, it’s that hired goons/nameless henchmen always suffer the worst fates of all. Whatever about the main villains of the piece, these guys get a really raw deal. They don’t die with particular dignity or ceremony, and they don’t die for any goal or point. I mean, at least with the majority of Bond villains, they died at the hand of the best spy on her majesty’s service, having being foiled in their missions to blackmail the western world/destroy London with a nuclear missile/run smuggling operations and so forth. They weren’t shot in the back of the head while unloading a crate of stuff they didn’t own in the middle of the night for someone they’d never met.

Sure, from the evil villain’s point of view, it’s great. As C. Montogomery Burns puts it, “I prefer the personal touch you only get with hired goons.” Sure, it’s great to have henchmen do your bidding, but it’s not so much fun when you are the uncredited, unnamed, faceless henchman.

I’m not saying for a second that you need to enter a life of warmongering, embezzlement, extortion or general nihilistic terror. But, if you do choose that path, or on whatever path you do choose, stick to your principles. Set your own goals, do what you’re good at, leave your mark and keep your honour. Never be the hired goon when you can be the hero or the evil master.

Here are just a few examples of ‘goon hiring’ shows out there that back up my theory that it’s no fun being a hired goon:

1. The Joker’s Hired Goons, Batman.

Throughout the ages of Batman, all the villains have had henchmen to carry out their dirty work. Whether it’s being ambushed while unloading crates in the middle of the night, being shot by your boss, or being made to fight for your life with another hired goon with half of a broken pool cue as a weapon, being the hired hand of one of the Dark Knight’s enemies ultimately ends badly. I chose the Joker because his brand of master villainy in particular places little value on the lives of the hired help. From setting all his goons up to kill each other on a bank job, to making former mob gorillas fight for a place on his goon-roll, to ramming a pencil through the head of a member of the mob, Joker constantly comes up with new and creative ways of undermining his workforce and the workforce of other Gotham criminals. Even with these tactics and the low morale of the Gotham scumbags, he still managed to get all of the Gotham mob to shift allegiances to his side when he became the main man of Gotham. And they had to wear stupid face-paint.

Lesson : goons are forced to work for psychopaths in risky conditions with very little job security. Embarrassing uniforms also a downside.

2. Doctor Evil’s Private Army, Austin Powers : International Man of Mystery.

Ah, the human, vulnerable side of the hired goon. In a few touching scenes in this spy spoof movie we got to see exactly how the families and loved-ones of a henchman are affected by the careless disregard for their lives by their employers, enemies and the writers of the films and books in which they feature. When one hired henchman is run over by a steam-roller, we witness the heart-wrenching phone call to his mother, and the moment when she has to break the knews to her young son, Billy, that his big brother, Steve, was run over by a steam-roller and would not be home to play catch with him. As if that’s not enough emotion for one film, another hired henchman’s life is senslessley and prematurely lost when he is decapitated by a tank of ill-tempered, mutated seabass. This news is received with dismay and shock by his awaiting stag party.

Lesson : Being a hired goon puts your loved-ones at risk of having their world torn apart, and because you’re of no consequence, neither will they be when you’re gone. You won’t be remembered, and neither will they when it comes to compo time.

3. The Foot Soldiers, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

The masked, trained foot clan that faced off time and time again against the heroes in a half shell worked for the evil super-mutant baddie, Shredder. At one point, Shredder considered making these highly skilled mercenaries a bit smarter, but he tried it with a prototype and it turned against him and tried to overthrow him. He realised that they should be deadly, but ultimately, stupid in order to serve him adequately. However, the problem with this was that they were all pretty much as thick as horse manure and ended up getting their heads kicked in by the turtles on every outing. It was probably better for them, in retrospect, that their faces were hidden. Getting your ass handed to you by 4 giant sewer turtles when you’re supposed to be a trained ninja soldier is pretty feeble.

Lesson : If you’re a hired goon, the man (in this case Shredder) will always try to keep you down. If he doesn’t think you’re worth it, no one else will. You’re setting yourself up for failure.

So, just what is it about the nameless, faceless soldiers who work hard, but ultimately have no goals that makes them such likely candiates for early retirement into the shark tank in the sky? Well, there is a lot to be said for fighting spirit. Some of these hired goons may be well-trained, but they just don’t have the determination and courage of heroes, or even of super villains. Their cause isn’t their own, and it shows in their work. Don’t let that be you.

As famous British spy Nigel Powers says to a henchman of Dr. Evil in Austin Powers, Goldmember:

Do you know who I am?

Henchman: [nods] Nigel: Have you got any idea how many anonymous henchmen I’ve killed over the years?

Henchman: [nods again]

Nigel: I mean, look at you. You don’t even have a name tag. You’ve got no chance. Why don’t you just fall down?Go on son.

[henchman falls down]

There you have it really. The guy with the charisma, wit and confidence overpowers the goon. What a surprise. It’s all about mentality. If you see yourself as a goon, others will too. And it’s not just in the world of crime of doing the work of evil, but in all walks of life. Would you want a goon doing your taxes? Would you want a goon teaching your kids spellings and algebra? Would you want a goon being president of the United States? (That may be a weak example.) But still, there’s nothing cool about being a hired goon. Stand tall, don’t work for anyone whose name starts with ‘The’ or contains the word ‘death’, don’t wear a mask and don’t let it happen to you.

Only in China…

… would the organisers of the biggest sporting event in the world and high-up members of the Politburo come together before the opening ceremony to shatter the dreams of not one, not two, but three little girls.

It has emerged that the little girl who sang as the Chinese flag was brought in to the arena at the Olympic Opening Ceremony was miming. Not only was the cute 9 year old miming, but she was miming to the voice of another little girl. The other girl, aged 7, won a competition to sing at the event, but was considered to be not very easy on the eye by one of the officials form the Chinese Politburo and the creative director and his committee, and so was replaced by the prettier child.

The pretty girl who mimed at the ceremony, and the real singer, inset

The one who did mime has been giving interviews to all the major Chinese newspapers since she shot to stardom as the adorable (but quite obviously lip-syncing) star of the Opening Ceremony in Beijing last week. There were obviously questions about why she kept giving interviews, and as it turns out, the poor mite thought she was actually singing, they just turned her mike off.

It seems bad enough that they told one little girl she wasn’t pretty enough to be on the telly, and told another little girl that she couldn’t sing, but there was apparently a third 10 year old girl who was due to sing but although she had a nice voice and was pretty, it was decided that she was too old and not ‘cute’ enough.

It’s like playing Goldilocks and the three little girls. This one’s too ugly, this one’s too old, this one’s voice is too crap…mmm this hybrid is juuuust right.

I suppose it’s not really been a good day in the eyes of the Chinese government unless you’ve lied to the world and made a few children cry.

The Club Brasserie

I went for a meal in The Club Brasserie, on Lapp’s Quay in Cork, the other night. I’m always looking for good restaurants in Cork, and it’s worth bookmarking when I find one. The Club Brasserie is one of those places that is superbly located, with a view of the Lee and City Hall from the boardwalk on Lapp’s Quay, and has a really good menu, nice staff and pretty decor while still being reasonably priced. This is hard to find, so I figured it was worth raving about.

We had a table booked for 8, but stopped in at Kudos in the Clarion for a pre-dinner cocktail first. The waiting staff were very polite and friendly when we arrived, and didn’t seem at all annoyed that we were a few minutes late. Granted, it was a Tuesday night and we were the largest party in the restaurant but still, things started out on a nice note.

The people at Club Brasserie were attentive, without being annoying. They took our drinks orders, kept our breadbaskets full, our serviettes replenished and made sure everyone knew all the specials (i.e. – all the things you want in a waiter) yet weren’t hovering or doing that classic thing they always manage to do to me of asking me how everything is when my mouth is full of food. And one of them said my dress was nice. So a giant tick next to them then.

The food is obviously an important factor, and the food at the Club Brasserie is delicious. To start, a couple of us split the Calimari and the feta cheese and lamb salad. The calimari was really good and came with a mildly spicy cocktail sauce dip. The lamb salad was just beautiful. I would go back there alone just to sit at a table outside and eat that salad. Salads are not supposed to taste that good. Something about warm cheese and strips of juicy lamb is just so right.

For my main course, I had the seared brochette of lamb with baby potatoes. The lamb was gorgeous, and served in a sweet, fruity sauce with mint sauce on the side. Something about the sauce just worked really well with the meat. I love lamb anyway, so it wasn’t hard to sell me on lamb skewers. But it was pretty good.

Most of the rest of my unadventurous friends opted for steaks. All feedback was good, except for one friend who ordered medium rare and got a very well done steak. I have to say though, at €19.95 for sirloin and €26.95 for fillet steak, it was great value and people certainly seemed happy with what they got. When you go out and order a steak, you clearly want a big hunk of meat and a big pile of chunky chips, and the steaks at Club Brasserie did not disappoint.

Two of our party went for the pork belly. I tasted this and it was fantastic. It was also monstrous. Definitely a job for more than two people or a rotweiller or a bear. Seriously though, there is nothing like a good bit of stuffed pork and this really really was good. We nearly had to bring down the tone of the evening by asking for two prying boards to get my friends out of their chairs and to the pub afterwards, but it was worth it to see the contented, sleepy and uncomfortably full looks on their little faces.

As for dessert, they were out of baked Alaska, much to the dismay of one or two of our party. But they did have a scrumptious Eaton Mess (meringue with cream and berries all messed up) and several other lovely things that we definitely didnt need to eat but enjoyed nonetheless. One of our party ordered cheesecake but ever got it, but seeing as he was one of the people who had the pork belly, this was probably for the best. They did bring me an Eaton Mess with a birthday candle in it which was lovely.

Just a special mention for the location and setting. The restaurant is located just on the banks of the Lee and has a beautiful view of the City Hall, which is beautifully lit at night. The interior of the restaurant is fabulous too, almost resembling an old-fashoned French salon. The high ceilings and chandeliers are a nice touch, but not too over the top. The lighting in the restaurant is just right with low lighting in the foyer and at the bar, and huge windows, along with the chandeliers, to keep the tables well-lit. The Club Brasserie would be a great spot for an early eveing bite to eat and glass of wine, with table outside where you can watch the world go by, or for a slap-up meal for any occasion.

Overall, between the vino, the prosecco, the yummy food and the pleasant people and surroundings, the Club Brasserie was a very pleasant dining experience and one anyone looking for a nice place to eat in Cork should definitely check it out.

Ireland’s Next Top Model

According to the Indo and the Herald, it looks like there’s going to be an Irish version of Tyra Banks’ world famous show, America’s Next Top Model.

 

The first issue with I have with this concept is captured beautifully in the first line of the Herald article:

IRELAND’S top catwalk queens may be in for some stiff competition before the year is out.

This whole idea of searching for Ireland’s NEXT top model is a bit problematic. Whose shoes will they be filling exactly? In America, Tyra Banks – one of the most famous supermodels in the world - is the mentor and judge for the girls. In Germany – the legendary Heidi Klum is the one to whom the aspiring young ladies can look for guidance. Slightly pushing it, Britain have chosen Lisa Snowdon. While hardly ‘top model’ material, she did go out with George Clooney for a very long time, which in fairness, does give her some grounds to tell the rest of us how it’s done. Who have we got lined up for the job? Well, it’s rumoured to be Andrea Roche, former Miss Ireland. So everything that Tyra has been banging on about for the last 10 seasons about the competition being a search for a model and not a beauty pageant queen is out the window then. But hey, I’m sure the big wigs in charge of the project know what they are doing…

…After all, the company set to bring Ireland’s Next Top Model to our screens is none other than Screentime Shinawil, the same people who brought us You’re a Star and Popstars. I mean, it’s not like they’d allow someone who didn’t know what they were talking about be a judge on the show, is it? That would be like putting a failed popstar turned glamour model and Fair City reject in charge of advising and selecting new up and coming popstars… oh wait, eh…. Okay, it’s not like they’d pour loads of time and money into a show and then have the result be a completely misjudged, mismanaged flop, no..they’d never do that..would they?…

I can just imagine what the Irish version of the show would entail:

Challenges involving cow-milking: “As a top model, you have to be ready to get to grips with any scenario and be a professional.“

Photo shoots in the Galtee Mountains or out in the middle of some bog : “Top models often have to brave the elements in the name of high fassshhhion.”

Final judgements in the elimination room in front of an expert panel made up of panto legend herself, Twink, the fella who does the airbrushing for RSVP magazine and whichever member of Boyzone isn’t making a comeback/changing religions/joining the cast of Coronation Street this week. That’ll be the old one then.

Weekly photographs illustrating the true diversity of the hidden talent and beauty Ireland has to offer: from Lancome flash bronzer, to Fake Bake, to St. Tropez, to Clarins – the range of shades and brands of fake tans these beauties will lather on in order to battle the rain streaks knows no bounds.

With everything from blonde bobs, to blone extensions, to platinum bobs, to blonde with brown extensions underneath, to long blonde, to blonde streaks – capturing the truly unusual, dynamic and uncultivated beauty of the average girl walking through the streets of Donnybrook or Drumcondra is what this show is all about.

I can see it now: giving opportunity to those who have really had to pull themselves up by the bootstraps. Only previously successful in regional pageants and in doing promotions in lycra for the local radio station, these young buds will finally be able to blossom on national television. And what better channel to showcase the best and brightest and most beautiful girls in Ireland, than TV3, home of Miss Universe Ireland, in its pink bikini-clad glory, and Diary of a Beauty Queen, a sneak preview at the truly insipid nature of some of these fame hungry girls with boobs, legs and little else.

I may sound a just a tad sceptical about the prospect of INTM coming to our screens, and you may think that I am being needlessly unfair. But ask yourself: is Ireland ready for this show? I have to say no. We live in a country where girls aspire to be beautiful by parading in bikinis and wearing tiaras and waving to assembled crowds at pageants. And judging by the winners of such pageants in previous years, it’s pretty clear that the mold of the girl with long legs, big boobs, poker straight hair and fake tan has not been broken.

If we are to believe supermodels are glorified clothes horses, that’s well and good. But you cannot deny that when you see a picture of Kate Moss or Tyra Banks or Helena Christensen in a couture gown, it looks slightly more impressive than Rosanna Davidson or Glenda Gilson in a dress from Brown Thomas. There is no definitive way of looking at beauty, and no way of deciding what is and is not stylish. But Irishness is unmistakable, and the uncanny ability Irish ‘celebrities’ have of taking things from American or British pop culture, such as reality TV, glamour modelling and fashion magazines and turning them into head-in-you-hands-cringefests cannot be denied. Something tells me that INTM is yet another chance for the embarrassing underbelly of the Irish entertainment industry to rear it’s ugly, spray-tanned, ghd-ed, noisy, vacant head.

Countdown to the end of an era

” As the countdown to a brand new channel ends, a brand new Countdown begins.”

- Richard Whiteley introduces the first episode of the first ever show on Channel 4, Countdown.

Since it began in 1982, Countdown has become what afternoon television is all about for millions of people. Richard Whiteley and co-presenter Carol Vorderman hosted the words and maths gameshow until Whitely’s death in 2005. After Whiteley passed away, he was replaced with Des Lynam and later, Des O’Connor.

I’m sure I’m not alone in saying Countdown was an important part of my youth. When I was little my Dad used to play along with countdown, working out the letters in anagram form on top of the newspaper. When I got older, I would always switch on Countdown when I got home from school, and with my sandwich and tea, I’d tear into all the letters and see if I could beat the contestants. I remember chuckling as the first 4 letters spelled out ‘TWAT’ or ‘BINT’. I remember my brother’s teenage crush on Carol Vorderman with her sexy top, mathematical prowess and oddly filthy laugh. Even to this day, everything about Countdown is wonderful: the tea-time teasers, the twee little stories from Lionel Blair or some other British afternoon TV personality, Susie’s quick thinking in the dictionary corner and the feeling you get when you outsmart the contestants.

The one person I could never outsmart though was the brains of the operation, the first lady of Countdown, the mathematical genius herself, the lovely Carol Vorderman. And now, after 26 years, Vorderman has announced that she is stepping down as TV’s sassiest, classiest maths nerd.

After initial reports that Vorderman was quitting Countdown because Des O’Connor was leaving, and she felt she couldn’t bond with another host, it emerged that she has actually been forced out of the show. Vorderman was given a choice : either accept a 90% pay cut or leave.  She was given 48 hours to make her mind up, and apparently, she loved the show so much she nearly agreed to the huge cut in her salary.

But, alas, tis the end of an era. Vorderman has decided to step down and is said to be saddened that her time on Countdown has come to an end. Well, so am I. Carol was fantastic, and as far as I’m concerned, she was what made the show after Richard Whitely passed away. He was such a legend and they had such a great repertoire onscreen, that no one could fill his shoes. It’s no wonder they’re moving on to their 3rd host in as many years.

Losing Carol Vorderman is losing everything that has made the show such an iconic programme for so many years. It is a show that won it’s own following and viewers and contestants because of its unique dynamic.

These days, all gameshows seem to have an aim of contestants winning £250,000 in return for proving they can do karaoke or have more knowledge than a 10 year old child. Countdown was telly with integrity. It made you work your brain hard, and in return you got a dictionary. It wasn’t about the glamour, the fame or the money. It was about the words, the maths, the challenges and the feeling you got when the 30 seconds were up and you had an 8 letter word, or when you managed to figure out the maths question when it gave you 75s or 25s instead of 100s or 50s, or when you got the conundrum before they did. Countdown was a piece of telly that was just like a piece of cake in your nan’s house after school: it wasn’t what you wanted to do all the time, but it gave you that lovely safe, warm feeling inside after a long day.

And now, they want to replace Carol with either Myleene Klass or possibly Ulrika Johnson. Myleene is a classically trained musician and is studying astronomy. Ya, but can she do this…..?

The Dark Knight

The Dark Knight was always going to be exciting. It was going to be big. I knew that. We all knew that.

 

I went to a screening of it on Wednesday and, naturally, the theatre was packed out. The hype had been building up around the film for over a year. Originally this was because of the success of the first movie of the trilogy, Batman Begins. Christopher Nolan had executed the introduction to Batman/Bruce Wayne expertly. The Dark Knight was then tantalisingly advertised, with limitied snippets and glimpses at what was in store being dangled in front of film and comic book fans like pieces of meat.

In January, as the flurry of excitement began to subside, a new kind of stir and air of anticipation was created around the film. It was no longer the fanatical anticipation of explosions, gadgets, violence and the ultimate vigilante superhero. This was a feeling that the film was something more. It was still the most anticipated sequel of the year, but now, it was special in a way that could not be compared to any other film in recent times.

When Heath Ledger tragically died in January he had completed all his work on the Dark Knight as the Joker, and the world held its breath in a mixture of shock and anticipation of what was whispered about as his masterpiece.

Unavoidably the Dark Knight became Heath Ledger’s film; his epithaph.

 

The feeling in the darkened cinema theatre on Wednesday night was one shared by the 400 people filling the seats. This had to be good. We’d all been sucked in by the frenzy, the excitement, the whispers of brilliance. We all wanted it to be great. Before the projecter jumped to life there was an odd feeling that what was about to come at you via the cinema screen was more than just a film. It was something precious, that you weren’t sure how to handle. It was strange to me, but as an avid movie fan and cynic by nature, I had never felt like this before seeing a film I had been looking forward to.

And I felt it. I felt it all around. The projecter started. There were hoots. Really.

I was worried that the tragic story of Ledger’s death would cloud my judgement of the Dark Knight, but I have to say that everything about the film blew me away. (I will use the word brilliant quite a bit as I run out of adequate adjectives.) There is no doubt that it is Ledger’s film. He portrayed the Joker with chilling perfection. It is ironic that what made it easier for me to overlook the hype surrounding the film due to Heath Ledger’s unexpected death was the quality of his own performance. Throughout the film, from the classic Batmanesque robbery to the unforgettable introduction of the Joker to the Gotham City mob to the manically hilarious hospital scene, Heath Ledger becomes the Joker. The stunningness of the transformation made it feel that you were not looking at a talented actor and valuing his work, but at a psychotic villain. The chilling thing about the Joker in the Dark Knight is that he appears free from all traces of humanity and empathy. The character is the most frightening kind of villain : he has nothing to lose, nothing to prove and does not care about the world anymore. Everything is a game, a jest and in the Dark Knight this is played out with poetic brilliance.

The worry with a performance so convincing and so strong as Ledger’s is that the other characters pale in comparison. This was not a trap the Dark Knight fell into. The attention paid to each character by Nolan is what balances out this film. The interplay between the characters as the story of the billionaire vigilante superhero unfolds is what makes this film more than just a comicbook adaptation. Having told the story of how Bruce Wayne came to be Batman in Batman Begins, Nolan was able to make the most of the characters and the action in the Dark Knight.

The inner conflict of Bruce Wayne between his duty to the people of Gotham and to the memory of his parents and his love for childhood friend Rachel Dawes and his wish to hang up his cape and be with her is a constant motif throughout the film. The pairing of Wayne with the personalities of the characters around him emphasise this battle in a way that sneaks emotion and heartbreak into this action-packed film without it lapsing for a moment or feeling in the least bit forced.

First off, in terms of the chivallrous knight in the film, we have the contrast between Aaron Eckhart’s Harvey Dent and Christian Bale’s Bruce Wayne/Batman. Dent is the idealistic Distric Attorney who is in a relationship with Rachel Dawes (portrayed, significantly less annoyingly than by Katie Holmes, by  Maggie Gyllenhaal) and Bruce Wayne is the billionaire who is a crime fighting vigilante by night and for that reason cannot live a life in the open with the love of his life, Dawes. If he hangs up his disguise and gives up his role as the dark knight of Gotham, they can finally be together. In Wayne’s vision for Gotham, Dent will take over from him as the white knight; as Gotham’s legitimate saviour. The inverse nature of the the roles of these two characters in the plot of the film frames the action in a subtle but effective way.

The theme of justice vs. revenge addressed in Batman Begins is continued in the Dark Knight. When Bruce Wayne sought to vindicate his parents’ deaths in Batman Begins, Rachel faced him with the difference between justice and revenge. It was this lesson that set him on the path of the superhero in the first place. In Harvey Dent we see a handsome, idealistic lawyer who wants to see the best in Gotham City and its inhabitants. He is in love with Rachel Dawes and his whole future is mapped out in front of him. As he slowly begins to lose faith, hope and everything he holds dear we see his character transform into a darker individual and we see what can happen when a good man loses everything and takes things into his own hands. The glimpse at what may have become of Bruce Wayne had it not been for his friendchip with Rachel and what has happened to Harvey Dent because of his relationship with her is very interesting. 

In terms of a dramatic foil to the character of Bruce Wayne, the Joker is the striking opposite and yet, oddly similar match to the billionaire superhero. The conflicted conscience of Wayne is what makes his character so complex. Everything about his morality prevents him from crossing over to the dark side, yet it is the same humanity that stops him from abandoning Gotham City in pursuit of his own happiness. His skill and power as a superhero obviously catches the attention of the menacing Joker, who sees crime as a game. Everything about the Joker is villainous, and all humanity is absent from the character. The closest we see to humanity is when the Joker toys with those he preys on or intimidates by brandishing his knife and telling the story of the origin his facial scars. But even this is part of his twisted game as each story differs based on the scene which is playing out at that time. The empathy free, psychotic spree of the Joker is in stark contrast with the conscience heavy, duty bound pursuits of Batman.

Yet, as the Joker points out, the two are oddly alike in the Gotham underworld. They are ‘freaks.’ They hide behind masks and operate below the realms of the law-abiding and the public. The Joker uses this tactic in his game to tempt Batman over to his side, but soon realises that the vigilante is not for turning. It is in the weakness of Harvey Dent that the Joker eventually has his finest hour.

All I’ll say is that the encounter between Harvey Dent and the Joker in the third act is one of the best scenes I’ve scene on the big screen in a long time.

Ultimitely, the nature of the characters and the intricate nature of the storyline means that this is a whole lot more than just an action movie or a comic book movie. But, lest we forget, it is still an action movie. In the Dark Knight though, there is no danger of forgetting that this is a super hero action film. From the suspense ridden scenes orchastrated by the calculating and manic genius of the Joker to the introduction of the awesome Bat Bike to big explosions and cool special effects, this film delivers on the action front. It has it all.

 It is dark, moving, suspense-filled and with cool special effects to boot. Beyond any doubt, it is the Joker’s movie. Heath Ledger’s performance is quite simply iconic. Even still, the strength of the other characters means that it doesn’t overshadow any of them and none of the story is lost.

The Dark Knight is brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

 

Coming Soon to Cork : Fun, Cheap and Not to Be Missed

It’s that torturous crawl to the end of the month for me again. Koka Noodles and Lidl Shampoo are keeping me alive. It’s those few days before the monthly pay packet hits my bank account when I go to the pub and leave with a giant roll of pub toilet-roll in my bag. I’m one of these paupers who can’t seem to adjust to the lifestyle that accompanies poverty. I still want to do things. I want to go out. I want music. I want to dress nice. I want fun. So if I do get a windfall of a few 2 euro coins behind the couch or a twenty euro note in the pocket of my jeans, I don’t spend it on groceries and washing powder. No No, I live on bread and noodles and find something cheap and fun to do to pass the days until I can skip gaily to the buttered side of the breadline once again.

Until that day though, I am pleased to report that I have been finding plenty of fun things to do in and around Cork that cost little to no money. all it will take is a little imagination, car-pooling, money pooling and creative accounting.

Dead Cool

First up on Tuesday at the Pavillion, Carey’s Lane, there is a really great idea for a slightly different night of fun and music with every wordplay and music lover’s dream ‘Let’s Get Quizzical’ followed by ‘Dead Cool.’ Dead Cool is just that, very cool. All the tracks on the night are by dead people. And every week, just to mix things up,. there is one track by a living person who everyone thinks is dead. This is a lovely venue and a night I think is worth checking out. All this and, it’s FREE. Ah the word just gives me a little glimmer of excitement when I type it. FREE…mmmmm.

Doubletime

If you’re not sick of the Pavillion by Friday, then I seriously recommend checking out Doubletime, upstairs from 8pm Friday 25th July. On the last Friday of every month for the last 5 years, the sax-playing-swing-loving-bebraced legend himself, DJ Gary has been satisfying the needs of the romp-lovinf, swing-dancing, jazz-hungry masses. Playing the best jazz fromt he 1930s and 1940s, Gary has the gift of actually making you forget what year it is. With the usual venue being the Spailpin Fanach, the decor usually plays a part in that as well. But there is something about a room full of people stomping and swinging to 1930s jazz in low-light and high-heat that really makes you feel like you shouls be hearing a war siren at any minute. It really is a fantastic night out. This week is extra special because it is Doubletime’s 5th birthday. So for just €10 you can enjoy a rip-roaring night of fun, and possibly (if you’re quick and lucky) leave at the end of the night with one of Doubletime’s famously aesthetically pleasing posters.

When it seems like all is lost, and you’ve spent the last of you earnings on a ticket to see the Dark Knight in Cork’s most over-priced cinema, and you feel like you need your next cheap dirty fix of entertainment, along comes an absolute glowing-white knight on a majestic steed in the form of Cork’s most exciting new festival: Indie-Pendence.

Indie-Pendence 

Indie-Pendence is running over the course of the August bank holiday weekend in Mitchelstown. The line-up includes acts such as Gemma Hayes, Fight Like Apes, FRED, Dirty Epics, Hope is Noise, the Blizzards…. I could go on but the excitement might make my fingers grab the keyboard against my will and throw it out the window. And as already pointed out, I’m a little bit poor to avaoid such setbacks in my carefully reginmented budget. The festival takes place throughout Friday, Saturday and Sunday and the absolute best thing about it is it is completely FREE (that beautiful word again. After hearing reports from Oxygen on Fight Like Apes, and great feedback on Dirty Epics and considering the speed at which the stars of the Blizzards and Gemma Hayes and of course

FRED have risen in the last couple of years, this really is an opportunity to school yourself in the talent that Cork and Ireland has produced in recent times. It is also a prime example of one of the many fantastic events that makes Cork worthy of it’s title as the Real Capital. Don’t miss this!

So, I’ve given you at least 2 weeks worth of free music, alternative club nights, fun and games and adventure there for the bargain price of €10 + petrol money. But remember : faint heart never won free lift!

Enjoy your week.

The Bigger Picture : Alesha – Look But Don’t Touch

In a new BBC Documentary ‘Look but Don’t Touch’, Alesha Dixon, formerly of the girl band Misteeq, has set herself a mission. In an attempt to expose the effect that celebrities, media and airbrushing have on young girls in society, she has set out to find a magazine that would be willing to put a photo of her completely untouched-up on the cover. Over the course of the programme, she also chatted to children from her goddaughter’s playgroup about what they thought was pretty and what they didn’t like about themselves. (One little girl thought size 14 was too big and another didn’t like herself because she was brown.) Alesha also tracked the progress of an 18-year old girl who, having lost a lot of weight, was getting breast implants to get her boobs back, as well as a woman who wanted to get touched-up photos done of herself for her fiancé before their wedding.

As with all of these types of documentaries, there’s not much wrong with the core idea of it : shallowness + negative body image + unhealthy idealism = bad, appreciating real beauty + liking yourself + not buying into celebrities = good.  It is sad to think that in Fiji, within 3 years of first getting television 12 girls out of 100 had Bulimia. Little girls reading Heat or Mizz think they are fat and ugly. This kind of thing does sadden me, but the programme didn’t altogether convince me that Alesha had the answer.

The main reason that I found her thesis dettached from the whole point of helping young girls with crippling self-confidence is that Alesha is not only drop-dead gorgeous, but also went through the entire programme in full glamourous make-up while being treated like a celebrity. Her crusade was against air-brushing, and eventually she did find a magazine willing to display her ‘untouched’ photo on its cover. But she still had a stunning red gown, full make-up and her hair done by a stylist. She also had a professional camera-crew, lighting and a wind machine. And to add to the absolute shame of the tall, stunningly attractive girl having her photo on the magazine, they put her up on a billboard in central London. While it was up there, she asked a few passers by what they thought. Of course, they all barely noticed and thought she was beautiful in it. So, the point is, you see – they barely notice the absence of air-brushing. But all that tells young girls is that, if you are beautiful and rich you don’t need airbrushing. I mean, if every spotty 12 year old who felt low had a couture gown, a team of stylists and a wind machine she would probably feel like a princess, but most days, she just feels like an ugly girl.

Alesha had help during the programme from her good friend, Cheryl Cole. Amid air kisses and gleaming smiles the two dolled up stunners talked about what they don’t like about themselves. Cheryl doesn’t like her legs. Alesha has some scars and big feet. But they said that when magazines point out that they have cellulite, it helps the normal young girls out there. Just like when they see Kate Moss with cellulite, they are reassured. But far from being this reassuring sisterhood of ‘we’re all flawed’ this just reinforces that physical flaws are important. And no girl looks at Kate Moss or Cheryl Cole and thinks that although they have been repeatedly voted the sexiest or most stylish women in the world, the fact that they have stretch marks on their left leg makes me feel like i’m ok. By focusing on the fact that even the most gorgeous celebrities have hang-ups about air-brushing and flaws may make them seem human, but it also sets the bar even higher. Not only now are you feeling less than the goddess women, you aren’t even near the top of the pile of mortals anymore. I realised, it’s not about the air-brushing and the idea of perfection. Even if you remove the inhuman flawless aspect of it, they are still drop-dead gorgeous and people the world-over desire and envy them. They have trainers, make-up, fans, clothes and tiny waists/long legs/nice boobs. A stunning made-up girl without air-brushing is still a beauty on a pedestal for most nprmal people, and I think the programme sort of missed that, well, a lot to be honest

So even though the central idea didn’t really work for me, my friend and I did get chatting about the whole reason why girls get so sucked into the whole culture of wanting to look like celebrities and what it is we aspire to. The 18 year old girl who got the boob job had a lovely family, good job and handsome boyfriend. He couldn’t understand why she wanted to get surgery. She wanted breasts like Posh Spice. She wasn’t doing it for him. She wanted to be ripped open and have silicone stuffed into her chest and be able to look in the mirror and think she was like Posh Spice. But more than that, she wanted strangers to look at her. She wanted people she didn’t know to admire her.

It’s not just in body conscious women we see it. Young girls today are a lot different to what they were in the early 1990s. (the golden days, you might say.) We watched those films where kids snuck off to cummer camp and had bonfires, we wanted to be the only girl on the basketball team, we watched Saved by the Bell and wanted to hang out on the beach and drink milkshakes. We liked the Babysitter’s Club. Today, my little cousin and her friends love Hannah Monatana – a programme about a 12 year old who leads a secret double-life as a pop star. The star of this show, Myley Cyrus, is 15 and has recently done a racy Vanity Fair photoshoot featuring her and a sheet. Another popular favourite is High School Musical. While more innocent, this still has young teenagers dressing ike adults and being adored up on stage. Young girls today want to be older, have pretty clothes and hair, be famous, recognized and perhaps most disturbingly, fancied. The core needs of young girls has always been to be pretty and popular, but gone are the days of wanting to trick the adults, have sleepovers and have play tricks on boys. Now young girls want to skip a decade or so.

It’s all much more sexualised, and in a very public way. The young women aren’t doing things to make themselves feel beautiful or make their partners happy, and the little girls arent trying to stay out late, go to sleepovers and kiss the boy next door. Girls and women are doing things because being recognised and being adored or admired for being beautiful or flawless is a good thing. Unfortunately, Alesha’s quest did not do much to fix this. It simply changed the degree of perfection to which young girls aspire. In a sense, at least when there was air-brushing we could tell ourselves that she can’t be that beautiful, it’s all digital. But on a 10 foot billboard in London we can see that Alesha is just beautiful. So forgive me if I am hesitant to say that a boundary has been broken with this programme. All I saw was a woman who could use her celebrity status to make a TV documentary and who had long legs, lots of make-up, confidence and contacts. All the girls who aspire to be like celebrities but aren’t naturally beautiful aren’t taking fromt his that natural beauty is ok, they are taking from this that to compete with natural beauties such as Alesha and Cheryl they need help. They need fad diets, make-up, fake tan and in extreme cases cosmetic surgery. And so the cycle continues: girls seeing beautiful people on tv, wanting their lifestyles, and making themselves miserable trying in vain to be like that. Touch-ups or not touch-ups, that is not going to change anytime soon.