Book club II (ongoing) / Michael Ondaatje - Divisadero (extremely belated)

Of course, the other one's still going, in fits and starts, and possibly somewhat against the odds given its origins in MS, but nonetheless! The ledger so far (all dates approx.):

• The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini (July 2006 - at Bluestone)
  
• Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell & Breakfast at Tiffany's by Truman Capote (October or maybe November 2006; a split book club after voting divided the then members almost right down the middle - at Lounge upstairs)
  
• Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides (March 2007 - at Aloi Na)
  
• Divisadero by Michael Ondaatje (late 2007 - at Nicolette's)
  
• Bonjour Tristesse by Francoise Sagan (March 2008 - at Breizoz (the creperie on Gertrude St))
  
• An Arsonist's Guide to Writers' Homes in New England by Brock Clarke (August 2008 - at Nicolette's)

Next up, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter.

In its current incarnation, the other members are basically Nicolette (convenor), Tamara, Kathleen and Bec P...

* * *

Also, it seems I never wrote up Divisadero! It was so long ago now that many of the details elude me, but I did like it. I recall it as being rather literary (Stendhal references and all), but also pretty real - genuine characters and emotional impact and all that, and with mood to burn, too.

Vale book club

Well, I think that the original book club is now on permanent hiatus, with a couple of its critical members out of the jurisdiction and the remaining organisers faitly unmotivated at this point; in another sense, the rock upon which it's foundered has been Orlando, but really, I think it had pretty much done its dash by then anyway. By way of a rundown (I may have missed one or two, but I think this is all of them):

• Democracy by Joan Didion (March 2006 - at Cassie's)
  
• Everything is Illuminated by Jonathan Safran Foer (April 2006 - ? I missed this one)
  
• The Red and the Black by Stendhal (May 2006 - at Rue Bebelon's)
  
• The Loved One by Evelyn Waugh (June 2006 - at Andrew B's?)
  
• The Midwich Cuckoos by John Wyndham (July 2006 - at the North Fitzroy Star)
  
• The Magus by John Fowles (September 2006 - ?)
  
• In Cold Blood and short stories by Truman Capote (November 2006 - the Star, again) [I didn't manage to read this one]
  
• The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood (January 2007 - at Ash's)
  
• The New York Trilogy by Paul Auster (August 2007 - at the Ath)
  
• The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami (December 2007 - at Gluttony on Smith St)
  
• The Witches and short stories by Roald Dahl (January 2008 - at Tamara's)

(and there was the long weekend away in April of this year, though there was no official book selection for that one)

(it's characteristic that three out of the four people whose places I can remember having been venues have since moved - in fact, come to think of it, all four of them might've...in one case, no less than three times)

Members from the outset were Wei (as initial convenor), Cassie, Andrew B, Kai, David and Ash, with Tamara coming on board from the Stendhal and Julian F a bit later (Midwich Cuckoos, maybe). Also involved initially was Sarah O'B, before she went overseas, and various others came along to the first couple of meetings, too.

Well, it was nice while it lasted...but then again, there's no shortage of other things to do (or occasions for book-readin') at the moment!

The Cardigans - Emmerdale

Their first, I think - very early on, at any rate (the one with "Rise & Shine" and "Sick & Tired"). Nice, if on the slight side.

Brideshead Revisited

So it was a Saturday night, and we went to see Brideshead Revisited en masse. In the words of the email invitation Tamara and I had sent out (this part mostly written by her):

Why? Because it's Brideshead - because we were "in search of love in those days, and ... went full of curiosity" - because of the magnificent Emma Thompson - because it's billed as "a story of forbidden love and the loss of innocence", which isn't quite how we remember it and we ache to know more - because of lots of pretty young things we haven't seen in much else but rather like the look of - because of the clothes and houses and accents and scenery - because it will be utterly infuriating if anyone sees it before we do. (Also, we thought it would be fun to go see this one with a gang of others. Tamara is in favour of going in costume and Howard has made indefinite promises to appear in tweed.)

Watching it, I was struck more than once by the realisation of how many layers there are to my relationship with Waugh's novel; much of the back story is here and here (and, in a different way, here), but given that I've still only read it once, and was left more with an impression of the book's effect than any real sense of its details at that, perhaps it's not surprising that so many layers have built up around 'Brideshead Revisited' in my mind...my idea of it has been able to develop without being constrained overly much by the minutiae and particulars of the thing itself.

I wonder, too, how that relates to my reaction to the film; it pretty much hit the spot as far as its emotional register went - like the book (or at least my abiding impressions of the book), it's nostalgic, wistful (indeed, sad), and strangely charmed, while also possessing a certain intensity of vision which is oddly harmonious with the general haze covering its proceedings - but left me conflicted in several of its other aspects (the way in which it deals with Catholicism, for example)...though I wonder to what extent I'd simply glossed over those other aspects in my reading/recollection of the novel.

Though a bit obvious in places, overall it's a well-made film, helped by some suitable-looking leads (though of the minor characters, Blanche, for one, was way different from how I'd always imagined) and a willingness to remain reasonably faithful to the spirit of the source material, if not always to its letter (I felt that it worked fine on its own terms - it made sense, albeit with more of a focus on the romantic melodrama element than I remember from Waugh's version). It left me very ambivalent for reasons which I haven't quite nailed down, but may (as I sketched out before) be somehow related to the fuzziness of my sense of the book (and to its significance to me); still, it got me a bit.

(w/ Tamara and, in approximate order of arrival, Buffy (a friend of TV's), Kelly, Rob & Laura, Kathleen, Nicolette, Jaani, Sid & Maansi, David & Justine, trang & Arthur, Bec and Kim - making it a complete disconnect from the "Endgame" troupe of the night before, incidentally)

"Endgame" @ Fitzroy Theatre Space (Eleventh Hour Theatre)

This was my first exposure to Beckett, either on stage or on the page, and it left an impression. Four characters - Hamm, Clov, Nagg and Nell - enacting (playing out) what does indeed seem to be an extended dying fall, the setting a derelict house in some unspecified but almost certainly ruined landscape, the themes existential, and staged with a strong sense of the grotesque. At times the language takes on genuinely Shakespearean cadences, albeit considerably contemporised; at others, the back-and-forth reminded me of the exchanges in Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead; it's perfectly pitched and paced, bleakly funny and occasionally hinting at the profound.

This was an impressive production, too - there's a strong thread to it, from the opening violin strains in pitch dark through the use of the traverse stage in the tiny (60-seat) theatre, and the actors were strikingly good (particularly Peter Houghton as Hamm).

(w/ Ruth, Emrys, Vegjie, Sunny and Keith)

Haruki Murakami - What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

Murakami's memoir of his career as a long-distance runner; a bit of a bagatelle, but not one to which I resented giving the few hours that reading it required.

Carson McCullers - The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

Oh my, this was very, very good. It made me feel all sad and stirred-up inside, particularly the first half (all the going on about fascism in the later parts was fine, I suppose, but seemed to me almost beside the point considering what had come before).

The inside front page of my secondhand Penguin edition quotes Graham Greene as saying that "Miss McCullers and perhaps Mr Faulkner are the only writers since the death of D. H. Lawrence with an original poetic sensibility" and I reckon that phrase - 'an original poetic sensibility' - gets it just right. It's one of those books where, trying to pin down what it is that I like so much about it, all I can come up with is 'there's just something about it'...there's craft in it, but more than that, it's the overall style and sensibility, both intangible but woven into every line, which distinguishes The Heart is a Lonely Hunter and gives it its impact.

In many ways, Singer stands at the centre of the book, but it's the characters over whom he exerts his strange fascination - Biff Brannon, Jake Blount, Doctor Copeland, and most of all Mick Kelly - who most touch and linger, which may be precisely the point. Only the truly specific can be universal, I've heard it said; be that as it may, just such a path is taken by McCullers here, and to wonderful effect. I've taken it a bit to heart.

Zoolander

Yeah! But I don't think I'll need to watch this again for a while.

Batman Begins

Plans are afoot to finally watch The Dark Knight (assuming we make it out to IMAX before its run ends), so I thought I should at last watch the first Nolan Batman.

It's very good - dark, complex and epic, but none of those to a ridiculous or implausible degree (within the parameters of this genre of film, anyway)...and it hews to generic conventions sufficiently closely (and uses them sufficiently well) that the rather significant digressions from those conventions don't undermine its dramatic impact. Great cast, too, well-used, from Christian Bale down (naturally, I got a kick out of Gary Oldman as Commissioner Gordon). A good one!

Julie O'Hara Quintet @ the Spiegeltent, Sunday 19 October

O'Hara has a nice voice and gave the appearance of greatly enjoying what she was about, and though she tends more towards the lounge/polite end of the vocal jazz spectrum than is my preference, it was done well and I enjoyed it.

(w/ Ruth and Sunny)

Alien3 & Alien Resurrection

Also rewatches; each (and 3 in particular) is a significant notch below the first two, but they're pretty okay anyway. Resurrection, naturally, benefits from having Jeunet at the helm, and Ron Perlman (not to mention Winona Ryder) running around doing his thing.

The Duchess

Far too by-the-numbers for its own good, but surprisingly well made for all that (and much better than the trailer makes it look).

(w/ Steph)

"Book of Longing" @ Arts Centre, Friday 17 October

Poems written by Leonard Cohen and set to music by Philip Glass; performed by an ensemble including Glass himself..."Book of Longing" promised much, but didn't quite work, the 'Cohen' elements not cohering especially well with the 'Glass' ones. The instrumental aspects were more successful than the vocal - distinctively Glassian but with hints and shades of the songwriter's style - but the singers, while fine (one of the male singers in particular had a beautiful voice), were much in the mould of past vocalists who have recorded with the composer, and their voices weren't of the kind that lends itself to Cohen's murky, often overtly sensual verse. I enjoyed it, but it wasn't all I'd hoped for.

(w/ Ruth)

Shaun Tan - Tales from Outer Suburbia & The Red Tree

Delightful...I'll recur to these, and to Tales in particular, I'm sure.

The Magnetic Fields - i

There could be no mistaking this for anything other than a Magnetic Fields album; compared to 69 Love Songs, though, it palls. There are some pretty moments, but not enough, and too many songs that come and go without leaving any impression (though closer "It's Only Time" is really lovely).

David Mitchell - number9dream

Whee! number9dream is a real trip - one thing about Mitchell, he sure can write. Sentence after sentence, paragraph after paragraph, chapter after chapter, it's all effortlessly readable, no matter which new voice he may have adopted at the time (taken as a whole, too, it's impressively different from Cloud Atlas and Black Swan Green, both of them seriously accomplished novels and great reads in their own right); Eiji Miyake is a tremendously engaging main character and narrator, and it's his development as much as his voice which provides the thread holding it all together amidst the crazy flights of fancy (some of which turn out to be not so fanciful after all - or do they?) and nightmarish excursions into the Tokyo underworld (Kafkaesque, with a heavy dose of Blue Velvet - although, and there's no getting away from it, the most obvious reference point is really Murakami). Mitchell's a real talent, and I can't wait to read more of his stuff.

Joan As Police Woman - To Survive & live @ East Brunswick Club, Friday 10 October

I have to say, Joan As Police Woman hasn't really taken with me - I like her stuff well enough, both Real Life and To Survive, but it doesn't particularly strike a chord. Seeing her live gave me a bit more of an insight, drawing out both the melodic and the rhythmic aspects of her music, but even so, I can't say I'm especially a fan - it's okay, and for me, not much more.

(w/ Michelle)

The Princess Bride

(Again. It doesn't particularly pall.)

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon

It didn't take my breath away this (third?) time; I suppose that so much of it hinges on the final scene, and when you know it's coming, it's not the same. But it's still really, really good (I'd forgotten how actually exciting the fight scenes are, too).

"Look!" and "Klippen/Klippen" @ NGV Australia

Just a 'for note' - too lazy to write about these in any detail. Not much in "Look!" really caught me; the sculptures/soundscapes in "Klippen/Klippen" were appealing, but I'm not wired for the kind of thing that they are.

(w/ Michelle, taking advantage of 'art after dark' hours a while back)

Jules and Jim

This really is just a sheerly delightful film, particularly the first half, which is nigh on perfect; but it deepens and really sticks in the latter part, as things become increasingly occluded and the relationship between Jules, Jim and Catherine become ever more entangled. It's a carefully crafted ode to the ephemeral, a film primarily of spirit rather than intellect or heart, and I liked it very much.

Days of Being Wild

Vivid and blurry, like all Wong Kar-wai films. I'm not sure I've ever seen Leslie Cheung in anything before - at any rate, not in anything in which I've taken notice of him (saving Ashes of Time) - but he's great in this, sulky, drowsy, languidly dangerous, little-boy attractive; Maggie Cheung, younger, I think, than I've ever seen her before, is soft-edged and vulnerable; and the others caught, directly or elliptically, in his orbit are almost as memorable. For me, the pleasures of Days of Being Wild aren't as immediate as those of some of his others, but it's still magnificent and would certainly repay watching.

Also, a propos not of this one in particular, but certainly of its director, here's a nice poem in the latest Believer - kind of a hipster poem (I mean, come on, "I run into Damon and Naomi in the street"?), right down to the multiplying layers of self-consciousness about what it's doing and saying (ie, aimin' to have its cake and eat it with the towers of hipster culture it constructs), but still, very nice for all that, and I think successful in what it aims for.

* * *

"Galactic" by Joshua Clover

And the neighbors are playing a recorded muezzin into the courtyard
And the people upstairs are having a party and laughing out the window
And the women are arriving in sparkly silver shoes
And the style I am told yesterday in London is called Galactic
And it was over last month says Bigna tan and beautiful with Romansch accent
And I am feeling very global about all of this we talk Borges translations
And catch up on the very latest fashions and is that not paradise?
And home again the next day I run into Damon and Naomi in the street
Stopping over en route to a wedding in Morocco it doesn't even feel coincidental
And we discuss Japanese noise bands and later I go to the leftist bar with wifi
Near the bookstore and the blue clouds and is that not paradise?
And thinking is a feeling too but one that cannot come to rest in another
And I am in love with everybody which is miserable and lasts
Five minutes amidst this great muchness of things I go down
To the noodle shop to act out scenes from a Wong Kar Wai movie
In my head about which the sweet-faced counterman probably has no idea
Though he gives me some knowing looks and we are waiting together
In the noodle steam and in the tamarind and lemongrass steam
For an international letter with a key folded inside or for love to return
And in walks a sexy boy with scarred lip and We Are The Power T-shirt
And he is tremendously real just as abstract ideas are real and the absence
Of beloveds is real and the incomparable Faye Wong having of late
Moved to Beijing from the real world of the movies is still exactly as real
As the steam in the noodle shop is real and how is this not paradise?
If love is for the one if love is a redoubt against the many it is useless to me
It is some holiday and my friends are scattered like confetti on the earth.

* * *

One of the things I like about the poem, see, is the way that it captures something of the cinematic/real nature of so much 'modern' experience ('post-modern', natch) - and the way that it double-codes 'scenes from a Wong Kar Wai movie', because, you know, when one watches a scene from a Wong Kar-wai movie, it is indeed 'a scene from a Wong Kar-wai' movie, but it's also real - you know, real...

The Wind Will Carry Us

Extremely slow, but strangely enthralling. I want to watch it again, though not in any particular hurry.

(w/ Ruth)

She & Him - Volume One

At first I wanted to listen to this because it's Zooey Deschanel's record, and they don't come much cooler than her. Then, I wanted to listen to it because I heard "Sentimental Heart" on a mix cd and it was simply great. But what's made me listen to the album over and over since I got it is the pitch-perfect invocation of 60s girl group and soul-infused pop that Deschanel and M. Ward have conjured on it, complete with the requisite country and easy listening strands - sweet and warm, and at once artful and sincere, it's a slight record but a very pleasing one, with only a couple of weak tracks which one barely notices.

"Art Collection by 30 Japanese Artists"

As billed, a collection of modern and pop Japanese art, so I probably shouldn't have been surprised by the preponderance of manga and/or Warhol-styled stuff, but, neither being particularly my bent, and the rest of it also being fairly uninteresting, there wasn't much to entice me. The most vivid exception was the three paintings by Tamaho Togasaki, geometric urban-scapes which were much to my taste (see here http://www.celeste-world.net/paint/oil_06.html).

(@ Collingwood Gallery - part of the Fringe Festival; w/ Michelle)

Toni Childs @ the Corner, Wednesday 1 October

Curiosity killed the cat; nothing so drastic here, but it really was curiosity more than anything else that led me to go to this one. I quite enjoyed the part of the show that I saw - the first few songs from near the front, and the rest from a more comfortable vantage point at the back of the room - but, while I responded to Childs' energy and zest for what she was doing, the music was a bit middle of the road for me, and I was kinda tired too.

(Support was Jess McAvoy, who I've seen before and didn't particularly interest me.)

(w/ Kevin)

Jolie Holland - Springtime Can Kill You

Wicked album name, to start with, and seasonally apposite (although not yet particularly this year, happily). Springtime Can Kill You is a modest-seeming record but a real grower; a deliciously warm folk-soul-country-am radio pop hybrid, Holland's pleasantly scratchy voice complements the transistor radio feel of the music, all smooth flows and gentle swells...and when I listen to it attentively, it leaves me with a small lump in my throat. A grower, and a keeper.

Stalker

At 2 1/2 hours long and slow-moving at that, not one for the faint-hearted. Still, as Kevin put it (in reference to Tarkovsky), 'being "slow" is no more a criticism than being "fast" is praise - it's what you do in the time that counts. Well, as to that, there's something hypnotic about Stalker, and a kind of massive naturalistic beauty to many of its scenes, and for those reasons alone it's worthwhile, though I have to say that the metaphysics left me a bit cold.

(watched Mon 29th; for personal reasons, this one needs an asterisk beside its name)

Fallen Angels

Very much a companion piece to Chungking Express - late night diners, alienated gangsters, air stewardesses ungraspable, tinned pineapple with significant expiry dates - though moodier and without the other's giddy lightness, and splashily violent in bursts. The film's kinetic editing and camerawork coupled with blurry slower-paced interludes and downbeat, contemplative voiceovers put me in mind of the two Godards I've seen lately (Bande à part and Alphaville), but what it mostly is, is pure Wong Kar-wai (albeit less luscious and drenched in colour than his pre-Blueberry latter-day films).

Goldfrapp @ the Palais, Friday 26 September

Sometimes seeing a song done live changes the way one hears it from then on, and so it was with "Utopia", when Goldfrapp did it early in their set a couple of Fridays ago (it was second up, following fellow Felt Mountain cut "Paper Bag") - uncharacteristically to say the least, I think there were actually tears in my eyes as Alison sang the song's first, skyscraping notes, her startlingly strong, clear voice sending the syllables upwards with the reach of her arms, and there were many small refashionings all the way through. (Another, later in the set, was "Number 1", which I'd never before realised was such an anthem, nor for that matter such a simply great song.)

The focus was on Seventh Tree, of course, but they also did a satisfying number of the best tracks from Black Cherry and Supernature, the cuts from all of their albums flowing well in the live setting (violin, harp, guitars, keyboard and programming, drums, and miscellaneous). Indeed, all of their moves really come to life in concert, both the lush pop songs and ballads, and the more dance-edged numbers; Alison herself was naturally the focus, and she compelled the gaze, gestures and movements completely in sync with the songs, but the tightness of the backing band and the strength of the songs themselves were also clear, and likewise the consistency of the outfit's back catalogue, making me realise how much time I've spent listening to their music since Felt Mountain first came out (I have an early memory of listening to it on headphones in the Bourke Street HMV), and how steadily in the years since then. It was a great show, put on by a pretty great band.

Support was Pikelet, who were (as people have been telling me lately) quirky, eclectically poppy and rather good; my favourite was the first one with the accordion.

(w/ Michelle - in the second row, no less)

Tideland

Kind of like Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas combined with Alice in Wonderland, and every bit the mess that you'd expect to result from that admixture. Very Gilliam, and as such of course visually striking in patches, but overall too all over the place to amount to much.

Alphaville

Mm, I think I'm developing a bit of a taste for Godard (or 'JLG', as he calls himself according to Adrian Martin's review of a recent biography of the director in the latest Monthly) - this one's a sci-fi noir melange with strong satirical overtones and lots of fun in a deadpan sort of way. I hate to put it like this, but there's just something so cool about it.

(previously: Bande à part)

[Edit: I meant to mention that it was also pleasing to gaze at the fashion and general aesthetic and map them on to that of Welcome To Alphaville, one of my favourite clothing stores...]

Jhumpa Lahiri - The Namesake

Well-written and readable (not necessarily the same thing), and thankfully not at all in the picaresque, magic realist, fabulistic vein of much 'Indian literature' - rather, it's notably, and impressively, precise and crisp in its use of language - but lacking anything to particularly pull me in, quickly and painlessly though I got through the book. I'm just not that interested in this kind of story.

Scoop

Insubstantial but entertaining enough, Allen and Johansson quite amusing together. Not as good as I'd hoped, but on reflection, really much as I'd expected.

Siri Hustvedt - The Sorrows of an American

This just might be the best book I've read all year; in fact, I'm almost certain that it is. It's kind of the way I see API in my mind, except more grown up, and written in the kind of prose that I most admire - spare, elegant, deceptively transparent. Nothing seems forced, everything hangs together perfectly - it's real writing in a way that a lot of showy contemporary stuff doesn't get near.

Like What I Loved, it begins with a letter, this one found by middle-aged intellectuals Erik and Inga Davidsen as they go through their recently deceased father's effects and suggesting an illicit involvement of some kind with a mysterious woman, years ago. From there, it reveals itself to be a kind of character/milieu portrait which functions both 'horizontally' (that is, taking its subject-matter in cross-section, more or less at a point in time, albeit with a strong emphasis on historical shading-in of that present time) and 'linear-temporally' (in that it does have a reasonably strong forward drive, generated by the 'detective story' threads making up the narrative and by the characters' arcs.

My comments about A Plea for Eros and What I Loved (see above) at the time that I read them go some way to describing what it is about Sorrows that so appeals - in both thematic preoccupations and style, Hustvedt is just my type, even though her particular foreground subjects have little immediate pull for me. As far as modern literature goes, it doesn't come much better than this.

Alien & Aliens

I've seen these before, but for some reason was in the mood to revisit them (nb: it's surprisingly difficult to find Alien 3 in dvd stores!). They don't grip quite as much on re-viewing, and I'm sure the small screen doesn't help either; still, both remain impressive in design and in execution.

R.E.M. - "Bittersweet Me" cd single

In the context of New Adventures in Hi-Fi, "Bittersweet Me" is only really a middling song - but that's no serious criticism given that, for mine, New Adventures is the best of R.E.M.'s many great albums, not to mention one of my favourite records by any artist full stop. This single has a couple of alternate versions of songs from the album, a fairly tough "Undertow" which adheres closely to the studio version and an acoustic "New Test Leper", and a live take on "Wichita Lineman" which isn't as good as it might've been, but is still pretty dern good.

Neko Case & Her Boyfriends - Furnace Room Lullaby

Great, in the way that all Neko Case records are. With the benefit of hindsight (and having listened to them all out of order), I can hear this as the big step forward for her - of the studio lps at any rate, while The Virginian was plenty listenable but a bit rough around the edges, Furnace Room Lullaby is much more polished, and better for it, a midday-through-to-late-afternoon (shading into night) precursor to the noirisms of Blacklisted (itself followed by the most fully realised of her records to date, Fox Confessor Brings The Flood).
My heart has lightened as spring has announced itself in the past few weeks; it strikes me that Case's music can be listened to at any time of year. It sounds good in the blazing heat of summer, but likewise in the chill of winter; the resonance it carries is altered but no less poignant in the mezzanine months. I don't tire of it at all.

The Edge of Love

Tamara and I have been trying to get it together to see this for a while, both inspired by the likely look of the film (in my case, at least, encouraged by the trailer). Anyhow, we finally managed it last night, Shaun joining us (because he likes Dylan Thomas, of all reasons!), and I'd have to say that it was about as I anticipated, though not all that I'd hoped. The 1940s setting comes to life, which is to say that it's at once vivid and somehow faded, scarlets and spotlights and soft, nostalgic edges, in sets, costumes, and all the little details; in the central roles, Keira, Sienna, Cillian, and Matthew Rhys as Thomas himself, all look right and do solid work.

Actually, locating the centre of the film is no easy exercise, which is one of the problems with it...the figure of Dylan Thomas is the hinge but he comes across as something of a cipher, and the relationship between Vera and Caitlin, while rendered with some conviction and depth, isn't quite developed in a way which convinces that it's what The Edge of Love is actually about; the spectre of the war haunts events, somewhat as it does in Atonement but even more so, yet can't be said to be the film's central concern in any meaningful sense. It's a film that either doesn't quite know what it wants to be, or does know but doesn't quite succeed in getting there...I think it shoots for melancholy, sweeping, romantic (the lush Badalamenti score is a strong hint in respect of all three of those), and at the same time warm, a bit earthy, filled with life, but it's just not quite there; it sets itself at meaningful character study but also indulges in broad-brush impressionistic gestures, and again it falls a bit short of what it aims for. (It also feels much longer than it is, which can't be a good sign.)

On balance, though, the good outweighs the bad; I wouldn't watch it again, but I was pretty happy to have seen it.

Though lovers be lost love shall not ...

An idea

So I thought that maybe I would try to watch all of my favourite films, as nearly as I can ascertain (given that unlike songs or albums, say, one revisits films relatively infrequently if at all) - 20 or 30, or maybe even 50 (yes, I have a list) - over some short period of time, not for any particular reason really, but just because. Might be a seriously bad idea, though, given that most of 'em fall somewhere between somewhat and extremely sad - or, at least, that's what I get out of them - and maybe it's not so wise to take risks with one's mood over spring, when all things are fragile in any event...well, we'll see.

The Last Town Chorus @ Hi-Fi Bar, Friday 12 September

Very nice indeed; for mine, the pleasures of Wire Waltz are, while real, not particularly vivid, but live she was scintillating, ipod backing track clear but relatively muted in volume, allowing her sweet, strong voice to come through with the clear vibrato of the lap steel in overlapping waves. All too brief at only six songs (or was it five?), but including "It's Not Over" and "Modern Love", and totally worth it.

(w/ Michelle and a friend of hers, Sarjeet; having little interest in seeing the other support, Sunshine Brothers, and none in seeing the main act, Ash Grunwald, I stayed for about three songs of the former's pleasant enough but uninteresting trumpet-led reggae-dub stylings before making my getaway...life's too short.)

21 Grams

Primed for it though I was by Inarittu's gorgeous contribution to Chacun son cinéma, I almost gave up on 21 Grams about 15 minutes in - the grittiness combined with the rapid jumping between stories and times was keeping me at a distance, and I was pretty tired. It repays the effort, though, unfurling into something that's intense and true-feeling. The performances are uniformly excellent, including that of the director himself, at once heightenedly dramatic and firmly anchored; it packs a heavy emotional punch, too. The film's no masterpiece, but it shows plenty.

My Blueberry Nights

Extracted from an email (one reference omitted; footnotes added):

It was pretty good, but not near his best earlier ones.[1] Very much his take on an 'American' film[2] - reminded me rather of Edward Hopper's paintings[3] - but still plenty languorous, romantic, moody, etc, etc.[4] Norah Jones did a good job![5] (Actually, he got good performances out of all of the leads - including a nice cameo from Cat Power.[6] Rachel Weisz probably the best but Natalie Portman also good as a raucous Vegas gambler.[7])

(w/ David and Wei)

* * *

[1] The framing story couldn't help but put me in mind of Chungking Express, in particular.
[2] Something was lost in the translation, I fear - My Blueberry Nights isn't as rapturous, as rhapsodic, as say 2046 or ITMFL, and the dialogue is, dare I say it, positively clunky in places.
[3] But more smeared and impressionistic - or do I mean expressionistic? I'm never quite sure with WKW's films.
[4] Albeit with some surprising grittiness in the David Strathairn/Rachel Weisz segment - which is graced by some seriously great acting from both of the above.
[5] In kind of a dreamy, wide-eyed, almost excessively ingenuous way, but she did it well, and that was the point of the character.
[6] A couple of songs from The Greatest, including the title track, made it on to the soundtrack, as did a nice cover of "Harvest Moon" by Cassandra Wilson; all quite nice but the music doesn't function in the same hot-wire-to-the-spine way as it does in, eg, Chungking Express.
[7] Jude Law the least dynamic but held his own...y'know, I don't mean to be too critical about the film, though - it was, for all that, still pretty captivating.

The Mysterious Geographic Explorations of Jasper Morello

Wonderfully mounted animated short - genuine steampunk, with all the frills. The silhouette style works a treat, and goes well with the Victorian gothic elements as well as the tech-industrial trappings that come with the territory.

Stay

One of those perception-thrillers - a bit of star wattage in Ewan McGregor, Naomi Watts and Ryan Gosling (not to mention Bob Hoskins and Janeane Garofalo in smaller roles), and a dab hand with camera sleight of hand (which turns out to serve the underlying premise of the film rather neatly). The problem, of course, is that there are generally a limited number of ways that films of this nature can turn out, and Stay indeed reveals itself to be one of those familiar types by its end...still, it's not a cheat, and it's effective enough, so...

(also w/ Michelle at home, involving some slightly ridiculous measures to emulate the night-time ambience that she insisted the film needed while we watched it at 4 in the afternoon)

Southland Tales

A right mess, this - basically a totally incoherent and completely affectless cinematic diatribe against right-wing politics, consumerism and pop culture vacuousness (vacuity?), with a bit of space-time continuum rip into the bargain. Without question, the best thing about it is the Rock's performance, though you could star-spot to your heart's content with this one (Sarah Michelle Gellar and Justin Timberlake also prominent, to name just two).

(w/ Michelle - at home)

The First Emperor (Tan Dun)

The Nova's running a series of screenings of last and this season's performances of the New York Met opera; this one, focusing on the first emperor of Qin (sung by Placido Domingo, no less) and written by Tan Dun (among other things, the composer of the music for Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon), feels like a fusion of Chinese and western opera (not that I particularly know anything about either)...I enjoyed it! (And, somewhat surprisingly, found my heart beating faster than normal at several points.) Though it has to be said that the music never quite launched to a higher level...

(w/ Sara)

Hellboy & Hellboy II: The Golden Army

Michelle was all excited about the new one, based on its trailer (I've always been put off by the ridiculous-seemingness of Hellboy himself, but was persuadable given del Toro's and Ron Perlman's involvement), so we watched the first film on dvd and then, the following Friday night (and with Jarrod in tow), saw the sequel on the big screen.

The first one is really only okay - it has some great images and a sly sense of humour (and Jeffrey Tambor up its sleeve), but it's too uneven and has too many dull patches to succeed on any terms, even as a comic book adaptation (not that the bar is lower for such, but rather that the parameters for success are different). The sequel, while in a similar vein as the original, has a much more rapid-fire pace, both in terms of action sequences and jokes (it's laugh out loud hilarious at points), and is truly spectacular (it's hard to imagine del Toro's Hobbit as anything short of a resounding success) - it's rare to see such vividly imagined and rendered imagery deployed almost purely for the sake of entertainment in the service of an unashamed genre piece such as this, though I still find the basic lack of gravitas of Hellboy himself, as likeable and well realised a figure as he is, distracting, particularly when pitted against the epic scope of the film.

"Writing Melbourne"

Steven Carroll, seeming only to have about two different ideas about his novels, which he repeated at intervals (not a criticism, btw); Michelle de Kretser, elegantly and softly spoken; Toni Jordan, unpretentious and amusing on the subject of her novel Addition; and a Nick Gadd, who writes crime fiction with apparently something of a literary bent, but didn't make much of an impression - all on the subject of writing (about) Melbourne in its various incarnations and elements, and none particularly dealing with 'my' Melbourne...which was at least partly the point of the session as a whole.

(w/ Cassie)

The National - Alligator & Boxer

It's true - in Alligator and Boxer, the National have wrought something special, a pair of albums each imbued with whatever it is that sets a rock and roll record apart and marks it as something a little bit transcendent...as between the two, well, Alligator is pretty great, but it's Boxer that really amazes - I reckon Julian F got it exactly right when he called the record a future classic, because that's just what it sounds like. It has a resonance that can't be mistaken.

Every single song on Boxer is good, and it's perfectly sequenced, its individual tracks subtly reflecting and building upon each other as they go, the whole much more than the sum of the parts. The album leads off with one of its clear highlights, the downbeat anthem "Fake Empire", at once totally contemporary chamber-pop influenced indie rock and classicist synthesis of the several pop music strands to be heard wrapped up in its sound, and then kicks it with the propulsive surge of "Mistaken For Strangers" before rounding off its first suite with the one-two of the murky, lovely brood of "Brainy" (very different sounding from its immediate predecessor on the record, but wreathed in the same post-punk aesthetic) and "Squalor Victoria" 's faster-paced but equally haunted rockisms.

Then, Boxer's dark, velvet heart, "Green Gloves" and "Slow Show": the first mysterious, subterranean and never quite resolving; the second providing the payoff, its coda - "you know I dreamed about you for 29 years before I saw you" - delivering one of the album's most apparently straightforward emotional payloads, yet in a way which still leaves one suspended somewhere between anticipation and resolution.

After that, "Apartment Story", another contemporary take on the Springsteen thing (see also "Keep The Car Running"), and done well, and then two deceptively low-key tracks, "Start A War" and "Racing Like A Pro", separated by probably the album's sprightliest moment (at least on purely musical terms), "Guest Room", which reminds me, it has to be said, of the handful of latter-day U2 songs that have held anything of the old magic (especially a couple of the better moments on All That You Can't Leave Behind), though if there's a stadium rock band's lp to which Boxer as a whole merits comparison, it's unquestionably R.E.M.'s New Adventures In Hi-Fi...anyhow, those two - "Start A War" and "Racing Like A Pro" - while not immediately memorable, turn out to be two of the deepest running songs on the record, and certainly two of those which I most commonly find echoing in my head...after which the band brings it home with the relaxed elegance of "Ada" and "Gospel", not stretching for anything over and above the rest of the album but instead finding the ideal way to wind things up in light of what has come before, on a gentle decline in which things continue to unfurl and re-ravel.

All told, it feels like there's a single thread running through the album - which has more than a little, I think, to do with the fact that it's the first album in ages that I've genuinely wanted to listen to over and over from start to finish (the last one before it was probably Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga once that one took root), and the first in even longer that I've felt like listening to in the dark, at night, with no distractions and nothing in my awareness except the music (the last couple having been, I reckon, Fox Confessor and In The Aeroplane... back in the first half of '06, or perhaps the Marie Antoinette soundtrack).

Alligator, which came before Boxer, can't help but suffer by comparison; despite, in "Abel" and "Mr November", housing the two most clarion songs to appear on either album, it feels a more muted record than that other, and it's certainly less perfect. Still, when it hits, it really hits - both of the abovementioned are great, and the jittery, catchy "Friend Of Mine" and the contemplative driftiness of "Daughters of the Soho Riots", not to mention the opening run of "Secret Meeting", "Karen" and "Lit Up", also stick indelibly...and I feel that it probably still has more room to grow on me, being that bit more understated and shadowy...

It strikes me that I haven't managed to say much about the National's sound on these two albums, but the truth is that their music has sunk in for me at a level which feels as if it has very little to do with the details of the sound itself - it's a tonal thing more than, say, a melodic or an instrumental one in particular...it's great, is what it comes down to - that's all.

Atonement

Atonement came with some pretty positive reviews from people who oughta know, including some of the 'even better than the book' variety (having not been overly enamoured of the book when I read it some time back, this impressed me less than it might otherwise have, but even so...), and I can see what all the fuss was about, though I don't think it's by any stretch a great movie.

What it is, is a great-looking film - both in its lavishly wrought details (locations and costuming especially) and in its stunning set pieces (fountain, library, Dunkirk), it's nothing short of sumptuous. It's also a film that, to a very large extent, succeeds in having its cake and eating it: it mostly convinces as a melodrama, with the attendant emotional heft, and also mostly succeeds in conveying its several messages about responsibility, regret, imagination and 'atonement' (the conveying of which necessarily depends in part on the undermining of those emotional effects, admittedly while reinforcing them in a different way); likewise, Knightley and McAvoy look the part and, whether through good acting or the fortuity of having well-cast actors (or, more likely, a bit of both), put in performances serving both of those impulses within the film, walking a fine line between genuine expressiveness and a more distant inscrutability or unknowability. (All of the actors who play Briony at the several stages of her life are very good, too, particularly the first two, Saoirse Ronan and Romola Garai, with Vanessa Redgrave having less to do than either of the others.) If, in the end, it doesn't quite succeed in reconciling those two threads, then the failure, such as it is, is, I suspect, an unavoidable one in large measure.

Oldboy

Violent, spectacular, and visceral in more than one sense, Oldboy isn't for the faint-hearted. It's certainly gripping, and stylish, too, painting from a broad but consistent tonal palette - but, all up, it didn't give me all that much, its moves wreathed in internal conviction and force but without much external reference...or something like that, anyway. Put another way (though saying something slightly different), it was well made and held my attention, but I'm just not that into this kind of film.

Paul Davies in conversation with Phillip Adams - More Big Questions

Lent to me by Cassie after one of those late night, several-drinks-in conversations a while ago: Davies and Adams in conversation on, indeed, big questions, tackled from a scientic perspective in clear, lay terms. I got a bit out of it - this is stuff about which I'm not particularly knowledgeable but that I'd like to know about (that is, the basics of current thinking about the chemistry of science, theories of relativity, quantum mechanics, etc - wanting to know about the Big Questions goes without saying!).

"Ghosts"

A mix cd from David - very enjoyable. There's a notable degree of musical/thematic coherency to the mix, ranging as it does across a cross-section of current indie-modern-rock act (or whatever they're called these days), with a couple of familiar songs from touchstone artists (Neil Young's "Don't Let It Bring You Down" and Tom Waits' "Hang Down Your Head") thrown in, and a pair of more electronic-infused cuts to begin and end (Ladytron's "Ghosts" and Panda Bear's "Take Pills"). From Radiohead, covers of two of my favourite songs, "Unravel" and "Ceremony"; from Phantom Planet, a song, "Quarantine", that sounds an awful lot like Radiohead. The standout's the Walkmen's "Another One Goes By", in its scuttle and sway like an end of the day second act to the marvellous "Louisiana".

"The moral of the story"

A bit of a waste of time, to be honest. The program described it in these terms: ' "The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily - that's what fiction means," according to Wilde. Barry Maitland debates with Peter Mares whether the best novels are moral, immoral or amoral. ' which is all very well, but as it turned out, completely misleading, the discussion being much more closely focused on Maitland's latest, a subject which held very little interest for me. Well, you can't win them all.

(mwf '08 - w/ Cassie, Tamara and David)

"Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" (MTC)

One thing's for sure, the mtc went all out in an attempt to bring us an authentic "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" experience, and it's a handsome production - the set looked great, as did the costumes, and the faint snatches of music at intervals were a nice touch...also, I think (fortified by having read the play very recently) I'm right in saying that they did the thing in toto, without any omissions at all (it was Williams' original version, rather than the Kazan-triggered rewrite). Even so, it wasn't wholly satisfying - the accents wavered pretty badly at points, and the performances were generally solid rather than electrifying, a shortcoming which is difficult to overcome in a play such as this, where essentially everything hinges on the characters' interactions, often one on one...but still, I thought it was pretty good all told.

[part of an MTC subscription with Steph, Sunny & co]

Cassettes Won't Listen - Small-Time Machine

Bought on spec, based on CWL's spectacularly good remix of Asobi Seksu's "Strawberries", but for the most part it comes across quite disappointingly as a somewhat more retro and considerably less memorable Give Up (not to mention five years on from that other), albeit with a bit more of a kitchen sink approach to its laptop-pop mode; things only really pick up for me on "Cutting Balloons" and "Lunch for Breakfast", each distinguished by some more dynamic beats and melody/rhythm lines than are to be found elsewhere on the record.

Justice Michael Kirby - "Answering the Critics - Human Rights and the Constitution"

Engaging but also measured, and he held the line for a national rights instrument. Interestingly, he seemed tacitly to accept that any such instrument would be along the lines of the Victorian Charter model rather than anything more ambitious; at least three possible explanations for that spring to mind, being variously beliefs on his part (from most to least plausible) that (1) advocating anything more radical (whether in the form of more direct human rights protection via ordinary Commonwealth legislation, or, even more so, constitutional amendment) would be doomed to failure, (2) a Charter-style Act is actually the best model for national rights protection, all things considered (perhaps having regard in particular to the UK Human Rights Act), and (3) simple oversight.

Anyway, I reckon all signs are pointing towards us getting a national human rights Act at some point in the next few years, always assuming that Rudd gets another term in office (as he surely must unless something goes badly wrong)...

Caroline - Murmurs

Maybe it's a Japanese thing, but the cover and sleeve design for Murmurs reminds me of those for Tujiko Noriko's Make Me Hard and Shojo Toshi. Indeed, Murmurs is a bit like a whole album of "White Film"s as done by a far more sweet-voiced vocalist (exhibit A: "Where's My Love", one of the softest, most sheerly lovely electro-pop things you'll ever hear); edgy it isn't, but all of the soft-toned textures and wide-eyed drifting don't come at the expense of proper melodies and interesting decoration...it's nice.

"Uncovered" (IMP July 2008)

Covers, of course. Some enticing prospects on the tracklist, but sadly only the first half of the cd works, so I miss out on hearing such intriguing combinations as The Boy Least Likely To doing George Michael's "Faith" (would probably be pretty good), Vampire Weekend teeing off on "Exit Music (For A Film)" (difficult to imagine) and Bright Eyes taking on "Mushaboom" (the mind simply boggles). Still, it makes me happy to've heard Jens Lekman singing "You Can Call Me Al", and anyone who doesn't get at least a bit 'aw shucks' about the prospect of Tegan and Sara covering "Rebel Rebel", well, anyone like that is obviously different from me (though it must be said, the cover itself is pretty average). Also notable: Of Montreal's take on M.I.A.'s "Jimmy" and Ben Folds' "Such Great Heights" - but the unexpected highlight is the Arctic Monkeys' "You Know I'm No Good", though some of that is surely attributable to how great the song itself is (something which hadn't really sunk in till I heard their version of it).

(from Angela in Clarkston, MI)

Tennessee Williams - Cat on a Hot Tin Roof

Sometimes the form makes all the difference; I don't think I would've liked Cat on a Hot Tin Roof half as much had it been a novel (or, more likely, a short story), well, even to the extent that that's a meaningful counterfactual at all, I mean. That said, in a lot of ways I'm drawn more to the play form than to the novel in any event - my inclination is always to pare things back, to live in the gaps and the spaces, and of their nature plays lend themselves more to such economy than their more descriptively fulsome cousins. Restraint can be more evocative than a torrent of words - and so it proves with Cat, for all of its melodramatic impulses. Williams' stage directions are unusually interiorised, most strikingly in the following long passage where the playwright actually breaks the fourth wall, at least on the page:

Brick's detachment is at last broken through. His heart is accelerated; his forehead sweat-beaded; his breath becomes more rapid and his voice hoarse. The thing they're discussing, timidly and painfully on the side of Big Daddy, fiercely, violently on Brick's side, is the inadmissible thing that Skipper died to disavow between them. The fact that if it existed it had to be be disavowed to "keep face" in the world they lived in, may be at the heart of the "mendacity" that Brick drinks to kill his disgust with. It may be the root of his collapse. Or maybe it is only a single manifestation of it, not even the most important. The bird that I hope to catch in the net of this play is not the solution of one man's psychological problem. I'm trying to catch the true quality of experience in a group of people, that cloud, flickering, evanescent - fiercely charged! - interplay of live human beings in the thundercloud of a common crisis. Some mystery should be left in the revelation of character in a play, just as a great deal of mystery is always left in the revelation of character in life, even in one's own character to himself. This does not absolve the playwright of his duty to observe and probe as clearly and deeply as he legitimately can: but it should steer him away from "pat" conclusions, facile definitions which make a play just a play, not a snare for the truth of human experience.

but they serve their purpose - they deepen one's appreciation of the play itself, characters, themes, structure(s), though only ever by casting light, realigning perspective, and never by cheating and introducing anything entirely extrinsic or new.

The above, too, serves as something of a statement of purpose for the play, and one which, I think, is fully achieved by the end - again, for all of the dramatics that take place, above all else Cat feels real. It doesn't have any gimmicks up its sleeve, nor any particular conceits (at least beyond those which are common to all plays, which map on to those common to all literature as written), but instead strives for, and reaches, a kind of truthfulness which cuts to the heart of the relationships and mores which are its subject (I felt that indefinable 'truthfulness', or perhaps 'honesty', more clearly in Williams' original version than in the alternate version, with its revised final act, prepared under original director Elia Kazan's influence and evincing more of a developmental arc, and liked it correspondingly more). Maggie and Brick are drawn in a broad, confident hand, and while their interactions with each other, and those between all of the other characters, are unquestionably 'stagey', they breathe with an air of reality, and one genuinely engages with them as people, and not merely as 'characters'. It's swamped in atmosphere, too - a sense of time and place. Without wanting to be too backwards lookin', they don't seem to write 'em like this any more.

Kasey Chambers and Shane Nicholson - Rattlin' Bones

Nicholson's voice complements Chambers' well, and this record seems like a genuinely collaborative affair, but inevitably I've approached it as 'the new Kasey Chambers album', and as such, it's much as I'd expected based on the launch - much more of a bluegrass/country flavour than probably anything she's done before, and certainly more so than the thoroughly enjoyable Carnival, but retaining the crystalline, spacious production and modern touches which give the music its immediacy and much of its charm. For all of that, though, it hasn't left a great impression on me so far (and I've had the album for a while) - perhaps, I've listened to too much of this kind of stuff before, and in moving in this direction, Chambers has left behind some of the idiosyncratic elements (both edginess and sweetness) which distinguish so much of her previous work.

Clouds - Favourites

It's all very confusing. There's these guys, the Sydney outfit who I know through Penny Century and, before that, the appropriately named "Anthem" (thank you cassette tape of "100% Hits volume 4"), and then there's a Scottish mob from the 80s, whose "Get Out Of My Dream" was one of the highlights of the CD86 comp, and apparently there was another before them (also Scottish, for good measure) back in the 60s. Anyway, so this compilation: there's much to like on it, most notably the willingness to experiment with unconventional song forms while retaining a clear pop sensibility and the sound they nailed seemingly from the very beginning (crisp, state-of-the-90s indie girl rock), but the songwriting is probably a bit too indirect for the band's own good, with the result that one is left with an impression of a series of swirls of colour rather than of clearly defined pieces; tellingly, one of the few songs to stand out is their woozy take on "Wichita Lineman".

"Lands End" (Compagnie Philippe Genty)

Oh my god, this was amazing. A sort of surrealist dance theatre show, complete with giant puppets, billowing oversized stage-filling balloons, striking lighting, and sliding panels and screens which continually frame and reframe the stage as they move. Taking cues certainly from Magritte (the men in long coats and bowler hats are only the beginning) and probably in some measure from Lacan (re: that latter, I'm thinking naturally of the 'Seminar on The Purloined Letter', etc), too, it's genuinely dream-like, beautiful, unsettling, whimsical, fantastic; and set to music something like a cross between Four Tet and Victorialand, but exceeding any such attempt at categorisation. From our position near the front, in the centre of the row, it was easy to become immersed in the flow of scenes and images while allowing their 'meaning' (or, perhaps, 'narrative') to take shape at a more abstract level. "Lands End" made a lot of sense to me, both emotionally and imaginatively, and more 'intellectually' (in some respects, precisely inasmuch as it elides the distinctions between those various types of responses); I haven't had such a wonderful experience in a theatre setting maybe ever.

(w/ trang + Arthur)

Glass: A Portrait of Philip in Twelve Parts

One for the fans, or at least for those with some existing interest in Glass - it's perfectly watchable, but doesn't shed a huge amount of light on either the man or the music. He comes across as very down to earth and affable, with a healthy lack of ego and rich spiritual life, but there are hints of lacunae, dissonances - in particular, in his relationships with his parents and with the women in his life - which aren't explored; and no attempt at all is made to say anything about the music itself, although there's an implied comparison to the pointillistic paintings of one of Glass's artist friends. Still, watching it reminded me how much I like his stuff, so it has to go down as a success at least to that extent.

(w/ Jaani - a sold-out session (at MIFF), impressively)

"Strengthening Human Rights and the Rule of Law"

Seminar back at MS, a week or so ago - Robert McClelland on the above subject. Earlier that day, he'd announced that Justice Branson (FCA) would be the new head of HREOC; at the seminar, he unveiled a few initiatives (possible national anti-terror law, consideration being given of ratification of first optional protocol to CEDAW, standing invitation to special rapporteurs and investigators) which, given the necessarily woolly nature of human rights talk, are all reasonably substantive, I reckon. He was rather more 'down home' and less polished than I'd expected, but seemed sincere enough and didn't come across as if he was bluffing at any point, including while fielding questions afterwards. President Maxwell (Vic CA) delivered a response, the main themes of which were how different/refreshing it is to have a Cth A-G speaking of human rights in the way that McClelland (and the Rudd government generally) has been and the fact that the idea of human rights is neither the particular province of the 'left' nor particularly radical.

Wicked

This was good! I wasn't at all troubled by the divergences from the novel - a musical's a different kind of creature altogether, after all, and it's been cleverly reworked so as to stand satisfyingly on its own in a way which ties the ends up quite neatly (the only thing that gave me pause was the altered ending, but I suppose it's more in keeping with what has gone before than that of the book - and that it took me somewhat by surprise is probably a testament to how much of the darkness and ambiguity of Maguire's novel is retained amidst the colour and glitz of the stage version). For mine, none of the songs really stood out ("Defying Gravity" is closest) and there was maybe a tad too much reliance on repetition of one or two recurring motifs, but that didn't much matter in the face of the engaging story and characters, spectacular sets and all round energy; the best moments/songs mostly involved Glinda ("What Is This Feeling" and "Popular" jump to mind), who is a treat both as written and as performed by Lucy Durack, but Amanda Harrison's Elphaba isn't at all shaded. I didn't fall in love, but Wicked gave me more or less what I wanted and it was plenty of fun.

(w/ Kai, Steph, Tamara, Kathleen + James L, trang and Vegjie ... which was, as it turned out, pleasing from the Elphaba-association p.o.v.)

Joan As Policewoman - Real Life

Think a more piano-y and smoother-voiced Kristin Hersh, with a bit of PJ Harvey and the more nocturnal, downbeat side of Tori to her too, and then some low-key lounge and jazzy elements, and you're in the ballpark as far as what Joan As Policewoman does. I've only been moderately impressed so far, but there are enough hints in the record that I'm willing to give her a chance to grow.

Revue

A collection of Soviet propaganda videos from the 50s and 60s; much heavier on extended, fairly dour footage of steel workers and farmers going about their labours than on colourfully kitsch song-and-dance celebrations of communism (even allowing that it was all in black and white), but pretty interesting nonetheless. Some great, characterful Russian faces, too.

(w/ Jaani and Ruth)

Pärt / Maxwell Davies / Glass - Trivium (Christopher Bowers-Broadbent, organ)

Eight pieces, all I think composed for organ and performed by Bowers-Broadbent on that instrument, all in a minimalist vein (though I don't think that any are strictly 'minimalist') and all interesting. Pärt's regal "Annum per annum" is magnificent, and likewise the more airy, drifty "Mein Weg hat Gipfel und Wellentäer" which precedes it; interestingly, all four of his retain a noticeably 'Pärt-ian' feel despite the unfamiliarity (to me) of their instrumentation here. The Maxwell Davies pair are quiet and mysterious; the Glass compositions ("Satygraha" and "Dance IV") are swelling and sonorous and, again, couldn't have been composed by anyone other than Glass himself.

Band of Horses @ Billboard The Venue, Sunday 3 August

A good show, if not as searing as I'd hoped and at least half expected. Live, they're an extremely tight outfit, very technically proficient and cohesive as a band, and with enough raggedness about the edges to give the performances more fire than the recorded versions (which is as it should be), but it didn't quite hit the next level despite the potential clearly being there, though there were some clear highlights when they did really nail it ("The Great Salt Lake", "Weed Party", "Wicked Gil" - all, oddly, off the first album, which is admittedly more rockin', but usually bands enjoy playing their newer stuff more, and that generally comes through in the performances). Perhaps, it was just a touch too tight; maybe it needed to be rawer, louder, a bit more unhinged (not that it seemed like a show that was all too 'professional' - just one in which the indefinable spark that pushes a rock show from good to near great was missing). All told, though, I enjoyed it, so no complaints - and it was interesting to hear some new stuff, which tended considerably more towards modern Gram Parsons cosmic americana than electrified southern rock...

(meant to go with Jon, but different arrival times and lack of reception in venue defeated atempts to meet)

Sigur Rós @ Festival Hall, Friday 1 August

Agaetis Byrjun was where it all began for me with Sigur Rós, so when they led off with "Svefn-g-englar" last night, the song's distinctive 'pings' and singer Jon Thor Birgisson's still unlikely (and still rather magical) vocals coming through loud and clear, I couldn't have been happier, and things soon got even better, as it became apparent that, as a live proposition, the band comes close to genuine shoegazer territory, the swathes and layers of guitar and synth from recorded versions either sharing the foreground with Birgisson's keen or washing over the top of it, building ecstatic walls of sound inlaid with all of the baroque flourishes and weaves we know them for, not to mention some real rock and roll drumming.

So Agaetis Byrjun was where it all began for me and it holds a special place in my heart, but truth be told, I haven't followed the band's career all that closely since, keeping up mainly through the various singles and other tracks that people have put on mix cds for me, most notably the cascading rainbow-swoon of "Hoppipolla" - which meant that much of what they played was new to me, but it was easy to be swept up by each new track, and there was barely a lull. The highlight, I think, would have been the skyscraping version of "Glosoli" they did near the beginning, but the whole thing was really good.

(w/ Ruth)

Ashes of Time Redux

This was excellent - just what one might imagine a Wong Kar-wai martial arts film to be like, cryptic, melancholy, blurry, vivid...epic and intimate, focused intensely in the moment but also haunted by the past (and with a gesture towards a hopeful future, too).

(w/ Michelle, Kai, Ruth and David)

Brock Clarke - An Arsonist's Guide to Writers' Homes in New England

I've been looking forward to reading this one! And so, what a shame, then, that my predominant response to it was one of irritation. The bumbling narrator, Sam Pulsifer, basically annoyed the hell out of me, and despite that, the bad end to which he eventually comes rings dreadfully false. Sure, I get that Clarke is playing more than one type of literary game here, but it's all a bit depthless, both in the sense that it has no solid bottom (ultimately, no substance) and in that (another way of saying the same thing) it's all surface in the end, however multiplicious its layers - we're not meant to take Sam, or his narrative, seriously, but at the same time, what's being said about both is something we're clearly meant to take oh-so-seriously and I'm not down with that. A shame in more than one way, because there are some good ideas in Arsonist's and some decent writing in bursts, as well as an evident ability to hold a story together over the course of a whole novel, but the pieces just don't quite fit. Still, I admire the chutzpah and the willingness to try for something different without any obvious signposting, trusting instead to the writer's own ability and the reader's acuity for the point to be made...

Hamlet (Bell Shakespeare company)

This had a lot going for it, but all told I really didn't think it was particularly great. The main problem for me was the figure of Hamlet himself...I didn't at all like the way that he was characterised, very much in the sulky adultescent vein of interpretation which (a) seems quite popular these days and (b) (lapsing briefly into unbecoming dogmatism) is just plain wrong; Brendan Cowell had presence but didn't really work for me; he was at his best in the contemplative soliloquies/monologues ("What a piece of work is a man", etc) and at his worst when lapsing into dire overacting intended to convey the character's anguish.

A lot of this stems from the fact that I'm pretty familiar with the play (and not a little possessive of the thing) and have some strong ideas about it - ideas which run counter to many of those underlying this staging...that said, another of my problems with the production is that it doesn't really seem to have a clear idea of the play itself, nothing cohesive to unify the choices made in respect of the various characters, sets, etc, beyond a generalised sort of contemporisation which isn't near enough on its own. There wasn't a clear vision, and the truth of the play was nowhere to be seen.

Still, I did generally like the way that the characters were interpreted: Claudius was effectively played as quite a physically domineering figure, and Gertrude likewise as the attractive older woman that she so clearly must be; Barry Otto as Polonius brought out the ridiculousness of the character without descending too far into farce; Horatio, Laertes and Ophelia all held their respective lines (that last a bit insipid for my taste, but that's obviously a reading that's open to her character); Rosencrantz and Guildenstern seemed to owe something to their Stoppardian counterparts in their gormlessness (their ineffectuality is played up and played for laughs), though with nothing of the anguished existential innocence of those others; all told, I thought that the acting was okay but a bit undistinguished. I did like the sets, though, and the music (courtesy of Sarah Blasko) which lent proceedings a bit of gravitas (thereby tipping my hand as to which reading of Hamlet I lean towards...).

(w/ (deep breath) Cassie, Kai, Wei, Julian F, Jaani, Sunny, Ben K and Bec P + guests of Wei's (Andreas) and Sunny's (Wilfred, Nirm and Louise [?]) - row a, three from the front)

The Cardigans - Super Extra Gravity

A winner - when it hits (which it does more often than it misses), Super Extra Gravity is a marvellous showcase for the frothy, immaculately put together popist gems in which the ever delightful Cardigans specialise. "I Need Some Fine Wine And You, You Need To Be Nicer" is still totally righteous and still has maybe the best title of any pop song ever, but it's "Godspell" that I've been really obsessed by lately, that latter encapsulating everything that's good about the record as a whole - a rush of a melody, hooks both expected and unanticipated, lyrics at once coy and direct, meaningful and obscure, that stick in the mind, delicious guitar jangle, ring and shear, Nina Persson's marvellous voice. Gettin' lots of spins round here lately.

Le cercle rouge

Uneasy but compelling Friday night viewing. Shot in colour but it feels black and white, and highlighted by an extended sequence (the central heist) with no dialogue whatsoever (maybe one or two words) - must've been at least 20 minutes, and might've been as long as 30 or 40. Noir/hard-boiled and 'cool', and thoroughly existential; layers upon layers.

(w/ trang + some of her folks, and Cassie and Kim)

"IMP June 2008"

A tasty mix, this one - one of my two or three favourites out of all those which have come through IMP in the last year and a half or so. The gal who made it obviously knows her way around this kind of music (lo-fi bedsit jangly pop, for want of a better way of describing it), and so there are spiritual forerunners and founding figures (Orange Juice, the Velvet Underground - that latter via "I Found a Reason"), more recent icons (Belle and Sebastian (a song, "Rhoda", that I not only didn't know, but is quality B&S into the bargain), the Magnetic Fields (the delicious "100,000 Fireflies"...I have a mandolin, I play it all night long, it makes me want to kill myself...), the Lucksmiths), assorted other scene figures (the Ladybug Transistor, Camera Obscura), a couple of slightly left-field but fitting selections (Sebastien Tellier's excellent funk soul electro pop ditty "Divine", She & Him's utterly charming "Sentimental Heart"[*]), and some seriously good tracks from acts that I've never even heard of before ("Givers Reply" by Ramona Cordova, "It's Going to Be Soon" by Rocketship).

(from Julie in Honolulu, HI)

* * *

[*] She & Him of course piqued my interest, seeing as Zooey Deschanel is one of the reigning indie goddesses in my books, but somehow I didn't expect their stuff to be anything more than endearing throwaway pop pastiches at best. The album could still turn out to be like that, but "Sentimental Heart" hints at the possibility of something more - Deschanel's got a natural and rather captivating singing voice, and it's a well constructed and arranged song, complete with girl group harmonies in the bridge about two-thirds of the way through...this could be pretty good. What can you do with a sentimental heart, indeed.

"The Power of Ideas" (Melbourne Conversations @ BMW Edge)

Just for note, really. Larissa Behrendt, Richard Dennis, Rodney Hall and Julian Burnside on ideas and society, with an emphasis on why bad ideas so often thrive and good ideas stifled, and how the latter can be fostered and implemented. Best was Hall, making an elegant, lucid, poetic argument for the importance of the arts.

(w/ Emrys and Nicolette)

Paris, je t'aime

Funny. Unlike, say, Chacun son cinema, the several shorts comprising Paris, je t'aime have an overall coherency, its individual segments feeling like aspects of a whole. Not sure just what it is that binds them all together, except perhaps the obvious, Paris itself; it's an impression aided, no doubt, by the relative lack of 'auteur' tendencies in the directors of the various pieces.

A few that stuck in my mind: Gus van Sant's "Le Marais", in which one young man haltingly-eloquently wonders to another, a stranger, if they might be soulmates, all the while unaware that the other understands very little French, is pleasingly wry and ends perfectly; Alfonso Cuaron's "Parc Monceau" (Nick Nolte and Ludivine Sagnier both note perfect) is just very appealing; Olivier Assayas' "Quartier des Enfants Rouge", despite being about nothing in particular (actress Maggie Gyllenhaal scores some drugs. The end.) somehow lingers (maybe it has a sort of infraordinary thing going); liked the Bob Hoskins/Fanny Ardant one, too, for the opportunity to see those two playing off each other; also, the one with Emily Mortimer was pretty good, though mainly because it was the one with Emily Mortimer (mind you, Oscar Wilde's showing up didn't hurt either); and the Elijah Wood vampire one, while OTT, was kind of cool (I didn't much like the other notably quirky one, the mime love story, though).

Aimee Mann - @#%&*! Smilers

On this, her latest, Mann mines a similar seam to that which yielded the riches to be found on The Forgotten Arm (see here, here and here), and to similar effect. Smilers is very much a twilight, autumnal record, guitar replaced almost entirely by piano and vocals consistently at the lower end of her register giving proceedings a muffled, quietly mournful air.

Smilers sees Mann further developing her seemingly increasingly downbeat take on pop classicism, easy listening am radio elements tempered by her unerring control of the form; while not overtly framed as a 'concept' album a la Forgotten Arm, there's a clear thread running through it and a sort of elegant musicality that I elsewise associate more or less exclusively with Summerteeth onwards-Wilco and New Adventures/Up-era R.E.M. when it comes to recentish pop music. "Looking for Nothing" is the song in which I hear that most clearly; it, "Great Beyond" and "Medicine Wheel" (those two coming across somewhat like the hinge pairing of "Little Bombs" and "That's How I Knew This Story Would Break My Heart" which appears at a similar point in Forgotten Arm) and the hushed "Little Tornado" are my favourites. The record's yet to lodge squarely in my chest, but I can feel it working its way there...and, needless to say, it's marvellous just to have new Aimee Mann to listen to.

The Fountain

There's no doubting that Aronofsky had a vision in making this massively ambitious film, and had it come off, The Fountain would have been dizzyingly great (he's certainly got it in him - as discomfiting as it at times is, Requiem for a Dream remains a flat-out masterpiece and Pi, while flawed, isn't all that far behind), which makes it all the more a pity that instead it's a bloated, tedious mess, albeit one in which the glimmerings of a great film are clearly apparent. The failure certainly doesn't rest with the actors - Hugh Jackman is mesmerising, and Rachel Weisz, who has less to work with, pulls her weight too - and nor is it to be found in any particular element of the wider composition of the film...perhaps, the conceit is too large to be effectively rendered in an hour and a half of cinema (though it must be admitted that there's a pleasing ambiguity as to exactly what - and whose - the conceit is, and that some interpretations work much better than others).

Incidentally, I also found The Fountain a bit gruelling for reasons entirely unrelated to those recounted above, and considered stopping midway more than once on account of these other reasons...cryptic, cryptic; after a hiatus of a few months, I think that it may be time for me to begin keeping my (handwritten) diary again.

Kill Bill: Vols. 1 & 2

Man, these films are just so goddamn cool! Even when you know exactly what's coming, the sheer cinematic quality of the individual scenes and shots holds the attention - we take Tarantino's inventiveness and pop culture- and cinema-literacy for granted, but rewatching Kill Bill has reminded me of just how adept he is with his bag of tricks (I've never particularly thought of myself as a Tarantino fan, yet have much enjoyed all of his films that I've seen - Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, Jackie Brown and, of course, the Kill Bill instalment(s).)

I like the first volume much more than the second, but they do make more sense taken as a whole - and I think that splitting them into two is justifiable on artistic terms, though there's a deal too much padding in the second film in particular. It's all so over the top, and obviously, deliberately so, but also undeniably involving and exciting - the vividness of the images and set pieces and of the archetypes that are so lovingly invoked in them sells it...the two that linger are the interlude on Okinawa, its impact sealed by the use of Salyu's (Lily Chou-Chou's) "Kaifuku Suru Kizu" and, of all things, Zamfir's "The Lonely Shepherd", and the explosive showdown with O-Ren Ishii's underlings and its lyrical finale in the snowy garden outside.

The La's - The La's

Has a raggedness and a hint of fire along with its sparkly jangle and crunch that pushes the record to a level above most of this kind; there's much more to it than is suggested by "There She Goes", as deathless and great a song as that one is. That said, I don't think it's a great album but merely a rather good one, its finest moments (apart from aforementioned classic, "I Can't Sleep" and "Timeless Melody" stick out) frontloaded.

Justin Timberlake - FutureSex/LoveSounds

Takes its cues from Michael Jackson and Prince and mixes them up with a 21st century fuzzed-up gloss but without a real spark - an interesting misfire but a misfire nonetheless...or is it just that I don't really dig this kind of music?

"if you were a kiss ... then i'd be a hug" (IMP May 2008)

The first actual mixtape (as opposed to mix cd) that's come through the IMP, complete with mild distortion generated by the taping process. Two 90-minute sides, filled with lots of good music of a certain type - Simon & Garfunkel, Bob Dylan, Jens Lekman, Grandaddy, Magnetic Fields, Nada Surf, Billy Bragg, etc, etc.

(from Danielle in Tallahassee, FL)

David Eddings - The Belgariad

Read this over a period of a few weeks, a few weeks ago. (Don't think I've read it before, though pretty sure I did the Malloreon some, ooh, 15 or so years ago.) I'd call it workmanlike rather than inspired, although I like some of the subtle reworking of classic high fantasy archetypes that Eddings engages in over its course...still, there was enough in it that I read all the way through to the end, of course.

Labyrinth

Well, it's a classic, innit? Like a lot of others around my age, my first exposure to Labyrinth was in primary school, and it left an indelible mark. I've seen it a few times since; it's still just as good as ever...and all the better that Bowie and Jennifer Connelly are in it, too!

(this time, w/ trang at the Fed Square atrium - 9am, Saturday morning!)

Muse - Black Holes & Revelations

I've liked Muse from the start, but never thought all that much of them. Each of their last couple of (studio) albums has yielded at least a couple of stand-out songs (looking back, I think "Hysteria" is probably my favourite of those), but they've never really registered for me as more than a slightly mad alt-hard rock outfit with a knack for the odd hyper-catchy guitar riff.

With Black Holes & Revelations, though, I'm finally completely sold - Muse are a really good band. After Origin of Symmetry and Absolution, the 'intensity' dial didn't really have another, higher setting, but evidently the 'massive' one did - Black Holes surpasses the band's previous efforts for sheer grandiosity, which takes some doing, but it hits hard and surprisingly focusedly despite the sprawling ambition. There are several highlights dotted throughout its running length (I particularly like "City of Delusion"), but it's best listened to as a whole, to get the full benefit of Bellamy & co's impressive range of ideas and tangents all at one go. And still, they don't seem to have overreached themselves - it all adds up to a very consistent album which takes its place in a remarkably consistent back catalogue...what do you know?

Gregory Maguire - Wicked

It's been a while since I last read this one, and it's held up pretty well (this was at least my third reading). I don't think I'd still say it was one of my very favourite books (see here) but it still affected me - it packs a serious punch, emotionally, intellectually and politically - and this time through I really appreciated the craft that's gone into the novel, particularly the way that Elphaba is reinvented and realigned for us each time she reappears, and the sturdiness of the structure which allows Maguire's ideas to come through as clearly as they do without getting in the way of the story.

(Funny, last time I read the novel, I definitely had a particular friend of mine in mind when imagining Elphaba; the same thing happened this time round, but with a different friend...in both cases, I'm not sure whether the comparison is flattering - or what it says about me and my relationship with those particular people...)

Big Star: Small World

It's striking how faithful nearly all of these covers are, even the two done by girls; indeed, some of them, the Gin Blossoms' "Back of a Car" and Matthew Sweet's "Ballad of El Goodo" in particular, are practically note-for-note, vocals and instruments alike near-indistinguishable from the originals. The best ones diverge a bit more from Big Star's classic versions, though none especially dramatically, those being Wilco's alt-country take on "Thirteen", the Posies' "What's Goin Ahn" and the Afghan Whigs' "Nightime". At ten songs, one of them a relatively recent cut by Big Star themselves (or at least as much of the band as had reformed/remained at the time of this cd), "Hot Thing" (the song's not much chop), it's brief for a compilation of this kind but boasts a decent roll-call of acts (apart from those I've already mentioned, others include Juliana Hatfield and Teenage Fanclub), and while the lack of reinterpretation of the songs doesn't do much for the memorability of the versions on the disc, the other side, of course, is that one can't go far wrong with such great source material.

Radiohead - "Airbag/How Am I Driving?" ep

As big a part of my life as music obviously is, I've never been the trainspotting or completist type; still, there are a couple of bands, Radiohead and the Cocteau Twins, whose every single, ep, etc I do tend to try to collect, not for the sake of owning the objects themselves but rather to hear the music they contain, even if this sometimes means buying a cd or record for only one or two often relatively minor tracks surrounded by a bunch that I already know, and so it is with this one, which was released on the heels of OK Computer in certain markets...what can I say, it's good.

Spoon - Telephono & "Soft Effects" ep

Their first couple of records, I think, and a fair bit faster-paced, more ragged and angrier than anything they laid down later. They ain't bad, but they ain't special either - at this point, they're more interesting as historical documents than in their own right.

Roxy Music - For Your Pleasure

More avant-pop from back in the day. Immediate, but interesting as well. Like it a lot. "In Every Dream Home a Heartache" is head and shoulders above the rest for me, but then I guess I've listened to it way more, too.

"Art Deco: 1910-1939" @ NGV International

Had a look at this because I was in town with a bit of spare time and because it was there. It didn't especially strike a chord with me - I have a fondness for some art deco architecture, and at this particular exhibition, I enjoyed looking at the glamour evening dresses and some of the jewellry, but really, to the extent that the movement appeals to me, it's on the level of the associations it summons (jazz age, etc) rather than for its intrinsic qualities...and there's always something a little bit sad about looking at objects mounted, bare and more or less out of context, in a gallery-type setting (of course, I'm more of an art kid than a design one, too).

Bande à part

The first Godard I've watched - probably, the first out-and-out 'nouvelle vague' film I've watched, actually - and I've been left thinking that while they're probably a bit of an acquired taste, it's likely to be a taste worth acquiring. I don't think it's stretching the point to describe Bande à part as postmodern - the metafictional/intertextual/breaking-of-the-third-wall aspects of the film are integral, as is its wilfully flippant attitude towards narrative - but it also has a distinctive (b&w) melancholy, a wistfulness, which has as much to do with the film's overall tone as its more brazen structural and stylistic affectations; its most whimsical elements perhaps partake of both those streams. Arthur, Franz and Odile somehow avoid graspability just as does the plot and direction of the film as a whole; it all has an effect that can't quite be described.

Vendela Vida - Let the Northern Lights Erase Your Name

Cryptic in its apparent straightforwardness, economical in its use of language but with tendencies towards abstraction and lyricism, inward-looking while (at least on the surface) dwelling more on the details than on broad psychological sweep, at once teasingly unresolved and, in the end, satisfyingly wrapped up, Let the Northern Lights... is a good example of a movement that increasingly seems to me to be constituting something of a seachange in current (pun unintended) literary fiction, both in the sense of exemplifying the style and in that of providing an example of how it can be done well.

It's hard to put one's finger on just what comprises or defines that 'movement' or seachange or whatever; I've picked out a few authors who seem to fit within it before - Scarlett Thomas, David Mitchell (?), maybe Ali Smith, Steven Hall (on the strength of The Raw Shark Texts, Nicole Krauss - but, apart from being relatively well-to-do 'western' writers probably sharing a broadly similar cultural background, writing novels which are usually in contemporary settings and kinda modernist in sensibility even if they're often laden with postmodern tropes and flourishes (I often feel that Murakami is a bit of a spiritual fore-runner), which in turn involves a certain preoccupation with phenomenology and perspective (and ideas), I'm not sure exactly what I feel they have in common. It's not that they're my favourite contemporary writers, even amongst those who've got their starts in the last 10-15 years or so (in which case Donna Tartt, say, would certainly be amongst their number, though it must be said that her work has a classic, out of time feel to me, and, to take an example from the opposite perspective, I was more frustrated by The Accidental than I actually liked it); nor are they particularly the most acclaimed/popular meeting that 'kicked off in the last 10-15 years' criterion (in which case see Jeffrey Eugenides, Zadie Smith, JSF, Dave Eggers, etc, etc).

Well, anyway, be all that as it may, I liked Let the Northern Lights... a lot, for all of the reasons I've already mentioned. Its rendition of Clarissa's journey of discovery through chilly Scandinavia has a lightness of touch and an elegance which sits pleasingly with the novel's more human aspects (though it errs at times on the side of being too terse, I feel). It's convincing - not necessarily in the sense of being realistic (though, incidentally, it more or less is) but more in the sense of being true.

* * *

'References' (because I wouldn't mind thinking a bit more about this 'movement' thing down the track)

Scarlett Thomas - Going Out, PopCo & The End of Mr Y
David Mitchell - Cloud Atlas & Black Swan Green
Ali Smith - The Accidental
Steven Hall - The Raw Shark Texts (some previous thoughts on this subject there)
Nicole Krauss - Man Walks into a Room & The History of Love

The Happening

A reasonably tense but all up fairly mediocre genre piece from Shyamalan. It's got a bit going for it - Wahlberg, Deschanel and John Leguizamo, some well done 'nature as threat' cinematography, a genuine sense of spookiness about a couple of the episodes (the interlude/climax at the American gothic Mrs Jones' home in particular) - but is ultimately disappointing in its failure to amount to anything much.

Sons & Daughters - The Repulsion Box

Basically a scuzzy indie-rock album with bits of punk, rockabilly and sped-up folk thrown in (I think I read somewhere that they're Scottish); even at just a tick over 30 minutes, it's a bit wearying as an 'entire listen' proposition, too many of its songs blurring into one thuddy, scratchy, heavy whole. Still, "Dance Me In"'s still genuinely exciting and pretty much worth the price of admission on its own; "Taste the Last Girl" also stands out a bit, coming across all late-period Smiths with its jangly electric guitar lines.

Jasper Fforde - The Eyre Affair

Is it really so long since I first read this? Things just keep on speeding up.