Go Back To School...

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Part 1
(David Yates, 2010)

3 Stars

It’s a sad truth that the Harry Potter films never quite live up to expectations. Sure, we love them, but mainly for those oh-too-brief cameos of much-admired British stalwarts camping it up to kingdom come. So we read the books, we see the trailers, we wet our pants a little, and are inevitably let down by the end result. Which is why, for the first time in the HP film series, I feel that a movie has entirely captured its namesake. The first half of The Deathly Hallows is just as long, drawn out and entirely unfulfilling as the first half of the brick of a tome on which it’s based.

Having decided to release the final tale in two parts (Why? Oh yes, that’d be a case of keeping the franchise going as long as possible…) Warner Brothers have, this winter, given us two and a half hours of Harry, Ron and Hermione wandering around, bickering. Which, to be fair, is exactly what Rowling gave us in the book. So kudos to director David Yates (who also did the previous two movies) for giving us what we expected.

But perhaps I’m being a little harsh; despite its meandering, obsession to unnecessary detail here fore unseen in Potter films, and, of course, Bill Nighy’s godawful Welsh accent, The Deathly Hallows actually stands up as a pretty good film, and a decent precursor for what’s inevitably to come.

The kids, arguably for the first time, all put in great performances, though, as ever, I would have liked to have seen more of the older members of the cast (this is a MOVIE for Christ’s sake; we don’t have to follow the book narrative word for word! Show us what’s happening in the rest of the world! Show us what’s happening in Hogwarts for crying out loud!), and could, quite frankly, have done without the ridiculous bit with the naked vision of Harry and Hermione at it… just my opinion though. I’m sure there’s fanboys across the world who had to change their trousers after that brief few seconds.

One thing that really works, however, is the “greatest hits” feel to the whole proceedings. Think of a character from the last six books, and if they’re not currently at Hogwarts (roll around Part 2 please!), they’re here in full couple-of-lines glory. John Hurt’s Olivander, Imelda Staunton’s Umbridge, the Dursleys, even a cheeky little “blink and you’ll miss it” from Miranda Richardson as the wonderful Rita Skeeter. Come July, I’m pretty certain that every character that we’ve grown to love, or hate, over the last decade (unfortunately excluding myself as “Slytherin Prefect 1”) will be coming back to pay a visit. Let’s just try and give them some lines this time, eh chaps?

Oh yes. And it’s dark. Anyone mentioned that yet?

Thought so…

The Kraziest KitKats You'll Ever Kome By...

There have been some strange KitKats over the past year and a bit, but recently it seems that Nestle are really going all out when it comes to down-right bizarre flavours, most of which, quite honestly, have been bloody awful…

Cheese KitKat – 1 Finger

Let’s get the daftest one out of the way first, shall we? Yes, Mr. Nestle and his confectionary wizards have actually decided to create a cheese flavoured treat. Quite frankly, it’s just as bad as it sounds. Certainly capturing the cheesy taste, which in itself not such a good thing, this is more a novelty than any kind of treat.

Brown Sugar KitKat – 1.5 Fingers

The idea of adding something sweet to something else that’s likewise saccharine is not a new one. Jelly Babies are dusted with icing sugar, and millionaire’s shortbread is one of man’s finest indulgent creations. Adding the taste of molasses to a chocolate bar, however, is not really something that floated my boat. Overly sugary, and with a texture that rather made my teeth itch, this is another miss for my books.

Potato KitKat Bar – 1 Finger

This isn’t the first potato variety there’s been, and I have a sneaking suspicion it won’t be the last. Unfortunately, it’s just as horrible as every one that’s come before it, and undoubtably every one that’s soon to come. Just bigger.

Green Tea KitKat – 2 Fingers

I’m not much of a fan of green tea to be honest. It tastes a bit like old dishwater. But ho hum. This is a regional variety brought back for me from Kyoto by one of my students. It’s not awful, and is certainly a little nicer than the real thing, but it’s definitely not something I’d pay the shinkansen ride to Kyoto for.

Hokkaido Cream Latte – 4 Fingers

Somewhat of a reprieve from the badness of recent ventures is this delightful little number, which comes, even more endearingly, in a KitKat coffee cup. Hokkaido, famous in Japan for its cream (which isn’t actually all that great…) lends its name to this coffee flavoured number. Which is just top notch.

Why I Think the Japanese are in fact Mogwai

I’ve been in Japan a while now, getting to know the people, the customs, and the outright craziness of the whole thing, and, after many months of speculation, I have come to one simple conclusion; the Japanese people are in fact Mogwai.

Now, this may come as something of an odd claim to make for anyone not accustomed to life in Japan; How can a race of peoples, with centuries-old traditions be akin to an animatronic creature created by Joe Dante back in the nineteen-eighties?

Well, dear reader, cast your mind back to the three simple rules, and indeed the character of that oh-so-lovable young scamp Gizmo, and I’m sure, after my little analysis, you too will see the East through Gremlin-fied eyes.

Rule One: Keep them out of bright light, especially sunlight; they hate it

When summer rolls around in Japan, a very peculiar thing happens. Unlike the rest of the world, where folk tear off clothing to soak up the sun, Japanese women actually cover up to save themselves from being exposed to any form of natural light. So much so is this obsessive protection, that it is not uncommon to see women clad from top to toe in thick black clothing, sweating in the sweltering heat, just to maintain that “white” appearance.

Rule Two: Don’t get them wet

On my first day in Tokyo, I saw one of the most amazing sights of my life. As I was crossing the infamous Shibuya roadway (a fantastic sight in itself), the slightest rain began to fall. Nothing to an Englishman, so very used to the occasional downpour. As such, it was with utter bemusement that out of nowhere, a thousand umbrellas opened up, forming a goliath shelter lest one single drop should fall on the locals’ heads.

Since this first display, I have become more than used to a bevy of umbrellas in even the trickliest of showers.

Rule Three: Don’t feed them after midnight

This is perhaps one that I would not be aware of were I not spending the vast majority of my time living with a delightful young Japanese lady, and something that I must admit I do, on occasion, find somewhat irksome.

Whereas in the West a midnight tummy-rumble is to be quenched with the eponymous timely snack, out here it is utterly forbidden to eat after the clock strikes twelve. Don’t ask me why, as I am yet to find a suitable explanation, and quite frankly, I am still going to have my biscuits at two in the morning, rules or no rules.

Of course, it’s not just these rules that have turned me to my way of thinking; there are many other attributes of Japanese peoples that liken them to their Mogwai brethren…

A love for cutesiness and all things Disney

Remember that scene in the first movie when the gremlins storm the movie theatre and sing along to Snow White? Well, that love of all things twee emanates in every aspect of Japanese life. One cannot buy a detergent without some bizarre anime creature grinning inanely, and clothing here ranges from the cute to the down-right daft.

The obsession with Disney is also somewhat bizarre, with kids sporting bags with characters from movies they have never even heard of, let alone seen (seriously, right now EVERYONE has Jack Skellington stuff going on, and I know for a fact a minute percentage has ever actually sat through Nightmare) and waving around their Duffy the Disney Bear merchandise.

Singing

Gizmo loved to sing. Everyone remembers that. And the Japanese are the same. Karaoke bars and boxes litter the streets, and one cannot move more than ten metres down a city road without being festooned with fliers for some neon music-based establishment.

So if your air conditioner goes on the fritz, or your washing machine blows up, or your video recorder conks out, before you call the repairman, turn on all the lights, check all the closets and cupboards, look under all the beds, because you never can tell; there just might be a Japanese person in your house…

All-Round Scariness

Sphere
(Michael Crichton, 1987)

3.5 Stars

I must admit I have something of a love/hate relationship with the late great Michael Crichton. Doubtlessly, Crichton was one of the finest novelists of the twentieth century, producing not only the groundbreaking Jurassic Park and its sequel The Lost World, but also the delightful Congo, the thought-provoking NEXT (review coming soon) and also pioneering modern medical drama with ER.

So why the hate? Well, it’s simple really; Crichton’s exploits into scientific fiction are so addictive that one finds oneself ploughing through a six hundred page tome in a matter of days. Most frustrating indeed.

And so to Sphere, the first of two Crichton novels that have kept me transfixed over the last few weeks.

For those who haven’t seen the film version (of whom I must admit I am one), Sphere tells the somewhat farfetched tale of an air accident response team sent to the undersea site of what is believed to be an alien spaceship crash-landed over three hundred years ago. What they find is far more bizarre than any of the scientists could have ever imagined.

Unlike in many of his other novels, Crichton wastes no time here with character development or back story, instead plunging us 20,000 leagues within the first fifty pages, and allowing us to experience first hand the strangeness and claustrophobia of his underwater world.

The tale barrels along at speed, only slowing briefly on occasion to let both protagonist and reader recover from the terrifying exploits of the alien creature with which our heroes find themselves confronted with.

An exploration into the darkest recesses of the human psyche, and into not only the depths of the ocean, but that of human imagination, and the dangers that lie therein.

Overdue Goodness

It’s been a while since an update, what with moving from one end of the country to another, and it seems that amidst the mania of upheaval, Nestle have finally got themselves into gear with a plethora of new regionals and rarities, along with the much advertised new “regular” dark chocolate cookie KitKat.

And so, in what will hopefully be a more regular return to Silver Screen Lining, I gleefully bring you the first of two bumper editions of KitKat updates.

Much chocolaty goodness on its way.

Dark Chocolate Cookie KitKat – 3.5 Fingers

This much hyped new national is actually very much worth the attention. Coming in all three sizes; mini, “regular” and bar form, this is a delicious dark chocolate number, interspersed with little oreo-like biscuity bits. Morish, filling and all round awesome, this really is a great addition to shelves across the country.

Roasted Tea KitKat – 4 Fingers

This is perhaps the best regional variety I’ve come across. Harking from Kyoto, this is a rich and flavoursome “brown” chocolate bar, with a truly intense tea zing. Certainly worth a trip to the flowery city.


Annin Dofu KitKat – 2.5 Fingers

Upon finding this KitKat (a Yokohama speciality) I was left utterly bewildered as to exactly what “Annin Dofu” actually is. After a little research, and divulging into the candy itself, I have come to the conclusion that it’s some form of Chinese dessert that tastes pretty much exactly the same as marzipan. If white chocolate and almond sugar are you cup of tea, this is one for you. If not, I’d pass.

Apple KitKat – 3 Fingers

I must admit, the idea of chocolate and apples was not one that filled me with any form of excitement. After tasting the bar, I’m still not quite sure it is. That said, this was quite yummy, and definitely had a strong apple taste. Three fingers are for capturing the essence, rather than tastiness.

Blueberry Cheesecake KitKat – 2.5 Fingers

In the past year, we’ve had the overly feet-y Strawberry Cheesecake KitKat and the horribly Wonka Bar-like Blueberry version. Neither one tickled me the way they should have done. This I was pleasantly surprised that this wasn’t all too bad. Certainly not great, but not awful. Just not a patch on the real thing.

Autumnal Treats

KitKats have been scarce of late. There have been various theories amongst we merry band of enthusiasts; most notably that it’s summer and therefore no-one wants chocolate, which is just downright stupid. Turns out, however, that Nestlé have been concentrating on a shiny new range of regional specials that shall be hitting the shelves sonly. Hazah!

My last day in Yanai was, however, brightened up no end upon discovering the tasty new “Autumn Assort”. Nom-ilicious.

Chestnut KitKat – 3 Fingers

Chestnuts are a strange breed. Obviously not the kind that once were battled in school playgrounds (until good old health and safety stepped in), rather the kind that are sold by cheery greasy Cockney folk outside the British Museum. The Chestnut KitKat is pretty yummy. Smooth and nutty, it’s certainly the best of the nut-based bars I’ve come across.

Caramel Pudding KitKat – 3 Fingers

There seems to be something of an obsession with Crème Brule style flavours in these reaches; indeed this is the fourth variation of exactly the same flavour that I’ve come across. Yes, it’s good, but can we come up with something new please chaps?

Salt and Caramel KitKat Bar – 3.5 Fingers

There’s been some weird ones along the way; Wasabi wasn’t exactly a tasty treat, and Vegetable Juice was a painful ordeal. Sometimes, however, it’s the most bizarre flavours that really hit the spot. Salt and caramel may not, at first, sound at all appealing, but in fact this one of the greats. The lightly salted wafers hidden by a delectably caramel chocolate combine for a real, filling snack. Hello salty goodness!

Back to the Whedonverse

Dollhouse
(Joss Whedon, 2009-2010)

3.5 Stars

I’ve never been a religious man. Since an early age, a faith in a secular deity has been lacking. Possibly the vast array of faiths and cultures I was bombarded with from childhood. Or just simple nihilistic atheism.

One cult I have been indoctrinated in for well over a decade now, however, is that of Joss Whedon, a man who has, time and time again produced some of the finest TV shows that have graced the small screen. As such, I feel somewhat tentative writing this review, and hope that the lord shall forgive me for taking his name in vain.

It’s taken me a long time to finally sit down and watch Whedon’s most recent televisual venture, the apocalyptic drama Dollhouse, mostly because after watching the opening episodes first time round, I was utterly unimpressed. Of course, I should’ve known better; Whedon never pulls out the stops with a pilot. That said, after Buffy, Angel and Firefly, I had very, very high hopes for this show, none of which were ignited by the season’s opening shows.

Determined to find the joys here, though, I persevered, and by episode five, things were starting to take shape. Set in the eponymous Dollhouse, a plush science lab with the ability to “imprint” humans with any personality that a client show desire, the show follows (for the most part) Echo (Eliza Dushku – Buffy, Tru Calling, Wrong Turn), one of the “actives” who begins to recall her previous engagements.

Of course, for me, casting Dushku as the lead was the show’s first flaw. A fantastic supporting role in Whedon’s previous projects, Dushku does not hold the audience as a lead character, and is, quite honestly, and in stark contrast to her spectacular co-stars Enver Gjokaj and Dichen Lachman as fellow actives Victor and Sierra, unconvincing as most of the “personalities” she takes on.

The story arc of the first season is engaging enough; FBI agent Paul Ballard (Tahmoh Penikett) attempts to track down the Dollhouse, whilst week in week out Echo is sent on a variety of different missions. The second season, however, finally gives the show the “oomph” it needed, bringing the lesser characters to the fore-front, such as typically Whedonesque neuroscientist Topher (Fran Kranz) and the wonderful Olivia Williams as the house’s manager, keeping the audience ever on their toes with her “is she evil or not???” persona. Dushku, thankfully, is rather placed on the backburner.

Unfortunately, where the show falls flat for this cynic is not in its storytelling, but in its heart. Its themes are typical Whedon; battling big corporations, self discovery, brainwashing, Amy Acker in a lab coat… but what is really missing here is the warmth and humour that I have always admired Joss for. In every show or film he has been involved in, he has presented us with a group of bizarre reprobates, whether they be vampires and werewolves, space cowboys or even talking toys, and managed to make us care for them, thus encapsulating the dysfunctional “family” of the 21st Century. In Dollhouse, however, we are not given characters, merely shells that can be filled with anyone, thereby leaving us with no connection with our leads. Even the “real” characters are so morally defunct that it’s difficult to care about them.

That said, episode 2.11, in which something utterly heartbreaking happens to the somewhat endearing Topher, did actually make me scream at my TV screen; something that hasn’t happened since Danny was killed in season three of Spooks.

It’s difficult for me to look at this show without some prior prejudice; I simply had too high expectations. With that in mind, when The Cabin in the Woods finally unearths itself from development hell, it better be bloody good!

Cinco de Awesome

Piñata Survival Island
(David and Scott Hillenbrand)

B-Rating: 3.5 Stars

Let’s face it, when it comes to movies, one of the major selling points is the name. When it comes to the B-Leagues, the stupider the name, the better. To quote the two that I so often do; Attack of the Killer Tomatoes, Jack Frost 2: Revenge of the Mutant Killer Snowman; the name summarises everything. We know exactly what stupidity to expect. Even The Killer Shrews (a film I am determined to find, having seen the trailer - thanks to M.D.) tells us instantly what we’re in for.

So, imagine my joy when I came across the little heard of Piñata Survival Island, a film starring none other than Buffy’s Nicholas Brendon, and Nate “Harvey from Sabrina” Richert. This was one I had to see.

The story starts off with some delightful back-story about a piñata maker who trapped all the bad will of the people in his village in an magical piñata. Wonderful! We then fast forward a few hundred years to find a group of “college students” (none of whom are under the age of thirty) arriving on a remote island for a weekend of fun, frolics and, for some bizarre reason, underpants collecting.

Naturally, one of the overacting “teens” stumbles across the piñata, breaking it open and unleashing the evil forces within. Or at least a really badly CGI-d donkey demon.

The rest of the movie sees each of the kids bumped off in hilarious ways by the monster, with Xander… I mean, whatever his name is, giving some brilliantly over the top expo, and his female accomplice delivering some of the finest melodramatic screams I’ve ever seen in a piñata-based movie.

My one complaint is the CGI piñata… It clashes so harshly with the rest of the film; we are presented with a gloriously campy Power Rangers meets Scooby Doo the Movie
Set-up, only to have an almost-too-good-but-not-quite-good-enough monster. Had they gone all out on the schlock and made a lame poly-foam creation, this would’ve been ingenious. Alas, it seems they almost weren’t quite brave enough to go the whole hog. Or donkey.

This film is currently #70 on IMDB’s Bottom 100, with most of the message boards complaining about what a “bad horror movie” it is. But quite frankly, it’s called Piñata Survival Island. Were you expecting bloody Kubrik?

Back in Time

Hot Tub Time Machine
(Steve Pink, 2010)

3 Stars

The eighties. The decade of great comedy and terrible outfits. Mix the two together, add a little John Cussack and a magical Jacuzzi, and you have the recipe for the fun-tastic blast from the past Hot Tub Time Machine.

Taking inspiration from Back to the Future, this enjoyable, if not at all original, comedy sees Cussack and his friends sent back to their eighties hey-day to both mess up and sort out their present day problems. Cue plenty of sexual shenanigans, and, the films most amusing joke, a running gag involving Crispin Glover’s right arm getting into various scrapes.

Cussack is, as ever, on fine stoic form as the unlucky in love lead. Clark Duke is great fun as his hopeless nephew, offering all important obvious exposition whilst fighting for his own existence as he re-treks the path of Marty McFly in trying to get his parents together. Craig Robinson meanwhile provides one of the film’s only real laugh out loud scenes in which he calls his nine-year-old wife a cheating whore. His rendition of “Let’s Get it Started” by the Black Eyed Peas is also a highlight. The only real letdown in the cast is the suicidal Rob Corddry, who is simply too crass to really care about.

This is a movie that, with the wrong cast, could have gone down like a lead balloon. Fortunately, however, it manages to keep momentum, and is well worth a few decent giggles. Plus, it’s called Hot Tub Time Machine. What more reason do you need to see it?

Oh Say Can You See...

Uncle Sam

(William Lustig, 1997)

B-Rating: 1 Star

It’s been a while since we’ve had some B-movie fun, and after watching the sub-parliness that was Orphan a few days back, I was feeling the need for some purposefully bad horror. What with it no being Christmastime, my favourite of the genre, Jack Frost 2: Revenge of the Mutant Killer Snowman was out the window. A brief flick through IMDB, however, suggested this “classic” to me.

3 Stars on IMDB, a reanimated war vet dressed as Uncle Sam going on a murderous rampage, and Isaac Hayes as one of the main players set this up to be a treat. Alas, it fails horribly where true classics have triumphed; it takes itself seriously.

The key to a great B-movie is to know just how bad your material is, and relish in it. Unfortunately, Uncle Sam takes a terrible script, a bad cast and a ridiculous concept and really tries its best to be a great horror flick, laying on anti-war subtext and clichéd family values. Hazah.

Simply put, the makeup is too good, cinematography too artistic and what would be hilarious one-liners delivered with far too much conviction. Kind of imagine the third House movie. You know, in the unlikely event that you’ve seen it.

Guess now I’ll give Pinata Survival Island a go… Surely that’s got to be so bad it’s brilliant…

Little Orphan Esther

Orphan
(Jaume Collet-Serra, 2009)

2 Stars

It’s funny how sometimes you don’t realise just how much you miss something until you have it served up to you on a surprise platter. Think, for example, that first Whippy of summer, when you find yourself thinking “jeez I’ve missed ice-cream.”

This evening I had a delightfully unexpected treat, and one that I really didn’t realise I’d been missing; watching a crappy horror movie with friends. For the two hour run of Jaume Collet-Serra’s Orphan (or Esther as it’s known round these parts of the world), I found myself transported back to university days of laughing though and second-guessing the latest schlock with my erstwhile flatmate Michael. The only thing missing was the hungry shriek of guinea pigs and the faint aroma of old milk.

Taking its cue from the recent explosion of Americanised Japanese remakes, Orphan has a very Asian feel to it; attempting to create atmosphere and depth through a typical family setting and slow, “creepy” narrative. There's no mass murderer here out for revenge (or is there...?) and no teens getting hacked apart, just simple, everyday life in its familiar serenity.

The story is simple; a rich family decide to take in an orphaned Russian girl (played nicely by the scary eye-browed Isabelle Furhman), whom they know absolutely nothing about (the film’s main MacGuffin, which quite frankly does little more than show the stupidity of the parents) and turns out to be just a little bit crazy in the head.

Unfortunately, it simply isn’t creepy enough, and the narrative plays out as disjointed and confused; in terms of storytelling, the film’s most shocking event happens far too early in proceedings, thus negating every “scary” occurrence thereafter. Had the script been shifted a little, and certain elements been kept more in the dark, this could have been a genuinely unsettling movie. Alas, it’s just a bit bland, with a twist that can be easily spotted by Canadians.

That said, it does have its strong points, most notably in the younger cast, and it’s certainly not the worst attempt at horror to have hit out screens (anyone else SUPER excited about Sharktopus???), I just feel there was an opportunity sorely missed here. Ie, the grandmother should have died. Painfully.

Totally Outnumbered

Outnumbered
Season 3
(2010)

4 Stars

BBC comedy of late has been somewhat hit and miss. Indeed, for the most part, anything that has been on that delightful bastard child of the BEEB that is BBC3 is pretty much routinely awful.

One show that has continued to deliver top notch giggles over the last few years, however, is the charmingly under-rated semi-improvised piece of genius that is Outnumbered. Following the everyday happenings of a suburban English family, Outnumbered brings to the screen the surreal realism of life with three overly active kids.

Through the first two seasons of the show, we grew to love the exploits of the children; world weary teen Jake (Tyger Drew-Honey... One of the strangest names of all time), hyperactive Ben (Daniel Roche) and, by far the most enchanting of the three, ever-curious Karen, played with amazing poise by the tiny Ramona Marquez. Meanwhile, parents Hugh Dennis and Claire Skinner do their best to stay sane in an increasingly crazed household.

I finally caught up with the third season of the show this weekend, having found myself at a loss for something to watch, and thence remembering that I was somewhat behind in my Britcoms. Thankfully, despite murmurs that this season had been something of a letdown, I found myself pleasantly delighted at every turn. True, now that the kids are starting to grow up, they have lost a few of their quirks, but the writers have adapted to this well, throwing Jake into his early teens brilliantly, as well as finding Ben a new talent in his chess playing. Even Karen, despite being a more grown up seven now, as opposed to the mere four when the show started, has become worldly and cynical, questioning politics and philosophy as only a child can.

One interesting aspect to this year’s run is that of continuity; as opposed to previous years, when each episode has stood as a standalone story, this year’s six-pack has seen a continuing story throughout, thus developing the characters more than the simple situation would normally allow. As such, the spiralling issue of Grandma’s gambling addiction is much more poignant, and the eventual admission of Jake’s lust for their nubile neighbour is painfully hilarious.

I’m not sure what the future holds for Outnumbered; perhaps in a few years, when the kids all reach their teens, some of the charm will be lost, but for now at least, this remains one of the finest comedies of British TV. May chaos continue to reign.

Evil is on the Rise

Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog
(Joss Whedon, 2008)

5 Stars

Joss Whedon is something of a hero of mine. Probably the greatest writer/director working today, if not ever, Joss manages to excite me in ways that no other purveyor of televisual treats can ever do. Indeed, so excited was I about his forthcoming film The Cabin in the Woods, that I was plunged into a dark funk of depression upon discovering that it had found itself in the middle of a political war, and thus still pending release date. Grr.

Whedon first displayed his unique talent for the television musical back in 2003, when the cast of Buffy found themselves under the spell of a music making demon; a demon that caused my CD player to repeat itself over and over for the months that followed.

As such, I was overjoyed with excitement back when the ingenious Dr. Horrible’s Sing-Along Blog first aired online back in 2008, and, in much need of a Whedon fix a few days back, decided it was time once again to get singing along.

Dr. Horrible follows the exploits of the eponymous evil genius (played with musical aptitude by Neil Patrick Harris – How I Met Your Mother, Dougie Houser MD) as he fights his nemesis Captain Hammer (Whedon regular Nathan Fillion (Firefly, Serenity) on fine misogynistic form) and tries to win the heart of the lovely Penny (Felicia Day – Buffy The Vampire Slayer, The Guild), whilst at the same time trying his darnedest to enter the ever watchful League of Evil, reigned over by the dastardly Bad Horse.

It’s fantastic fun, but what really makes Dr. Horrible a classic is the perfect combination of Whedon’s inimitable comedic tone, some fantastically memorable songs, and a cast that really throw themselves into the silliness full throttle.

Typically Whedonesque, Dr. Horrible is yet another cult classic from the crowned prince of quirky television.

Ass-ing Around

Donkey Punch

(Oliver Blackburn, 2008)

2.5 Stars

British horror. It’s an interesting sub-genre. Somehow, it’s one that either delivers a masterpiece, or churns out forgettable and daft trite. This weekend, inspired by a trip out on a friend’s boat into the delightful waters of the Japanese Inland Sea, I decided to revisit a film that, for some reason or another, I never got round to finishing the first time round.

Donkey Punch, named after a somewhat violent sexual act, is one of those movies that tried hard to thrive off a single concept and a daft name. Alas, for the most part, it manages to just be yet another “cabin in the woods” style slasher, albeit this time in the somewhat more original setting of a pleasure boat in the middle of the Med.

A cast of annoying and somewhat forgettable characters drive the simplistic story, as a weekend of fun turns sour after the death (through the titled sexy fun) of one of the group. Cue the inevitable claustrophobia and much needed screaming. And a couple of wonderfully fun deaths, including, perhaps more notably than the namesake, a chap getting killed by a flare gun. Good stuff.

Donkey Punch manages to capture the claustrophobia of the boat wonderfully, and also has some genuinely well shot sequences. Unfortunately, with little oomph to the storytelling, this mule falls at the first hurdle, and soon turns into yet another formulaic murder-fest.

One also feels a “don’t try this at home” warning should be issued. Although maybe that’s simply what the movie is…

10 Things I Miss About You

Living in Japan isn’t always easy. That’s one of the main reasons I keep this blog; it grounds me, keeps me in touch with the me that sits somewhere in stasis, waiting to get back to the UK and do that fabled PhD in Film and TV before becoming a delightfully stuffy lecturer.

Funny thing is, I usually start a project like this and soon get bored. In fact, this is my third blog; the first one was started back when I was directing Return to the Forbidden Planet at university. The second was just after I arrived in Japan, and was supposed to be a journal of life in Japan. Problem was, simply detailing my thoughts didn’t do it for me. That’s how this malarkey came about. I decided to concentrate my writing on things I love; film and TV, obviously, as well as those wonderful chocolate snacks I love so well, and the bizarre wildlife that finds itself knocking at my door in this crazy country. Oh, and this crazy country in general.

And so, to celebrate 100 posts, I decided to look at the things I miss. The things I moan about, and bore most people to high hell therein. Naturally, the real top of the list is my friends and my family. You all know who you are, so I don’t need to list you here. But love to you all nonetheless.

No, here are the ten things that I miss on a daily basis; the ten things that really separate Japan, as a way of life, from my English roots. Some of them are obvious, and indeed most of them are food related, but these are the things that at least once a week, I find myself wishing I could give my right arm for…

10. Doorways

Japanese people are small. It’s a fact. As such, doors here are much lower than the two metres one comes to expect in British houses. Much, much lower. A train ride will often result in a mild concussion when entering or exiting the vehicle, whilst a midnight trip to the lavatory will usually result in you spending the rest of the night passed out on the bathroom floor. Doors either need to be taller, or crash helmets should be given free with every Gaijin card.

9. Baths

Bathing in Japan is a bizarre peculiarity. Tradition dictates that in the average Japanese household, a bath is run in the strange, small tub (approximately one metre in length), and then each member of the family takes a bath in the same water, starting with the father, then working through the rest of the family in order of seniority (note that in Japanese society, the mother is the least important member of the house, and therefore she takes her bath last, after EVERYONE else). This water is also often kept for days and thus reused a number of times.

Of course, this isn’t the issue for me. My issue is the metre-long excuse for a bathtub. I like baths, and quite frankly, if I want to relax, I want to be able to spread out when I do so. Being squashed up like a tied turkey is not my idea of R&R.

8. Individuality and Variety

For anyone who hasn’t actually been to Japan, it will come as a surprise that the Harajuku craziness and game-show zaniness is actually nothing like real life here. Everyday life in Japan is standardised; everything must be the same. People think what they are told to think, dress how society dictates, and act how everyone expects them to act. Cars here are uniformly black, silver or white, and kids read the same comics and listen to the same music as each and every one of their peers. There is no sense of rebellion or revolution here, and, when compared with the rainbow of different creeds, cultures and cliques of the West, life in Japan is, quite honestly, bloody boring at times.

7. Empire Magazine

I’ve been reading Empire for a fair few years now. As a film addict, it’s somewhat of a necessity. My monthly fix of what to expect from cinema over the next age is almost as vital to me as the films themselves. Often moreso. Some would argue “well why not just read the website?”. The answer is a simple case of tangibility. You can’t flick through a website and stumble across a gem. You can’t leaf through a website whilst taking your morning constitutional. Right now, I have next to no idea what’s going on in the film world, and as great as Empire Online is, and indeed the wonder of IMDB, they will never substitute for the real thing.

6. Being Able to Read

One of the most fundamental aspects of language is the ability to read; allowing you to know what you’re buying, to know where you’re going, or even to just know what the building you’re about to enter actually is. Unfortunately, Japanese does not share our “Romanji” alphabet. Indeed it does not have an alphabet. It has three. One of which consists of tens of thousands of symbols. At this point in time, I have mastered one of these systems. It’s better than nothing, and at least allows me to read menus, but nonetheless, I so very often find myself missing that instant, precognitive recognition that happens as you walk down a British street. And being able to find sugar without spending ten minutes deciphering each and every sign above the supermarket aisles.

5. Wine

It will probably come as some surprise to a lot of people that this isn’t higher up the list. I like wine. A lot. Sometimes too much. And these days, it ails me to find myself in a restaurant to be offered the choice of “red” or “white”, both of which will inevitably taste like old vinegar with a dash of grape juice. Coupled with a hot bath, a glass of wine is the key to my relaxation. It’s no wonder I’m so ruddy tense of late.

4. Marks and Spencer Simply Food

As the top two spots on this list clearly point out, I really miss food, and the one purveyor of fine dining that truly makes me salivate at every thought is M&S. Back in my Cardiff days, I would, on a weekly basis, spend a small fortune on silly flippancies that were, quite frankly, the best damn food that you can get from a high street shop. I miss the variety, the treats, and the amazing ready meals. And now I’m bloody hungry. Did I mention how sick of rice I am?

3. Idle Chit-Chat

An interesting factor of daily life, and indeed one that you really don’t notice until it’s gone, is the amount of information that you take in each day via osmosis. Be it the radio in the background, people nattering next to you on the bus, or simply the people you pass on the street, in a country of your native tongue, you cannot escape overhearing things. Take that away however, and you find yourself utterly seprated from the rest of the crowd; there’s no overhearing a joke in the pub, there’s no general niceties to your local shop-keep, and there’s none of that harmless flirting with the waitress. You’ll never realise how much you miss the simple ability to share a conversation until it’s taken away from you.

2. Cheese

When I was at school, I campaigned to make cheese one of the major food groups. I love cheese that much. As such, to find myself in a country that considers cheese to be either Kraft “Camembert”, or those hideous plastic slices, I am in somewhat of a quandary when it comes to comfort food. I miss cheddar; I miss Gouda, I miss Bavarian smoked. I’d even settle right now for some No Frills “cheese”. Cheese is a joy, and right now even a Baby Bel could bring a tear to my eye.

1. Sausages

Since I can remember, sausages have always been my favourite food. I fondly recall a holiday to Jersey when I was about five, when after the fourth night, the waitress at the hotel didn’t even bother to take my order. Back home, I could easily live off a different variety of sausage each day; whether it be Cumberland, pork and leek, or, one that rapidly took top position whilst working in Cardiff, Welsh Dragon. Sausages are robust and delicious in a plethora of different dishes.

And so, to be in a country where a “sausage” is either a gristly penis-like monstrosity or a half-assed American wiener, I am often utterly at a loss. What I would give for toad in the hole or sausage casserole. Or even just a couple of them between brown bread (something else that doesn’t exist here unless you want to pay about a fiver for four slices).

Speaking to fellow Englishmen, the sausage does indeed top most lists. The humble British sausage. The world needs to know of its greatness. Alas, doesn’t look like it’s going to happen anytime soon… Guess I’ll just wait for two weeks of sausage fest at Christmas.

Wait that came out wrong…

Beyond Infinity

Toy Story 3
(John Lasseter, 2010)

4.5 Stars

Sequels are tricky. Disney sequels are trickier. As such, sequels to the truly great Disney movies are perhaps the trickiest of tricksters. Pulling it off is a rare thing. Indeed, the only Disney sequels that really live up to their predecessors greatnesses are, in my opinion, The Rescuers Down Under and Simba’s Pride. Add to this ten years in development limbo, and things didn’t look all too hopeful for the third instalment of the adventures of the anthropomorphic toys of Andy’s bedroom. Nonetheless, when it was announced that Toy Story 3 would be hitting our screens this summer, I found myself salivating with anticipation.

Aside from being one of the most important films in animation history, Toy Story was also one of the most influential films in the Westgate household throughout the late nineties. As such, I found myself counting down the days until the new movie’s release, only to discover that, being in Japan, not only would I have to wait an extra month for it to arrive on the Nipponese shores, but I would also have to search high and low for somewhere that would be showing it in English. Crazy bloody Japan.

But it was worth the wait.

Toy Story 3 manages not only to pull on every nostalgic heartstring imaginable, but also takes the viewer on a hilarious and exciting romp as Woody, Buzz and the rest of the gang cope with Andy going to college and exactly what this means to their plastic existences. Hitting us full on with an action packed re-enactment of the opening sequence of the original, TS3 proceeds to take us on a roller-coaster ride of emotions, introducing us to a smorgasbord of new characters (most notably the diabolical Lotsa-Huggin Bear, voiced by the charming Ned Beatty and the adorably naïve Ken, brought to oblivious life by Michael Keaton) and even throwing in a few familiar faces for the keen-eyed observer (anyone else notice that the crazy garbage guy was Sid from the first movie?), eventually leading to one of the most tear-jerking endings to an animated feature I thing I have ever seen. Seriously, there were floods here.

Beautifully animated and perfectly paced, perhaps my only qualm with this outing is that a few of the characters’ motives and logics seem a little out of keeping with what we have seen in previous instalments. There’s also a little too much of the oft-annoying Jesse (Joan Cusack) for my liking.

Little grievances aside, Toy Story 3 is nonetheless one of the finest features to have come from Pixar studios. And that’s saying something. This time round, Lasseter really has taken us to infinity and beyond. Just make sure to have a box of tissues when the end credits come around.

What Dreams May Come

Inception
(Christopher Nolan, 2010)

4 Stars

As regular visitors to Silver Screen Lining will know, I’m not one for the blockbuster. Usually I will wait until the hype cools down and the film, as is so often the case with the modern movie, is for the most part forgotten. Being in Japan, however, means that my usual inundation of filmic information has been severely severed, leaving me in a twilight of ignorance as to what is actually going on in the world of cinema.

And so I came to hear of Inception, already slated to be “the best film ever made, ever”. My ever stalwart friends back home sending me ream after ream of cyber-optic telegrams insisting that I go see this film that not only had I no idea of the story, I had not even heard of.

I very rarely take in a movie blind; I usually scour Empire and IMDB for information, troll YouTube for trailers and research the working history of the main players. As such, Inception was something of a treat. What did I know? DiCaprio was in it; always a good start. And Ellen Page was in it; never a good thing. Oh, and it was by Christopher Nolan, the somewhat martyred director of the highly over-hyped The Dark Knight. That was about it.

Inception, DiCaprio tells us, is the art of implanting an idea into someone’s dream. Not an easy feat apparently, even in a world where infiltrating other peoples’ subconsciouses seems to be an everyday piece of espionage. DiCaprio, however, along with his team of reprobates takes up the challenge with gusto, giving us a truly enthralling and thought provoking piece of action.

Amidst the top-notch special effects and intricate story-telling, it is indeed the perfectly cast team that make this a truly memorable escapade. DiCaprio is, as ever, on fine form as master criminal Cobb, with Jason Gordon-Levitt (Third Rock From The Sun) showing that he has cast aside his childish days as Tommy Solomon, growing into a really fine leading man. Tom Hardy (BBC’s Oliver Twist) and Deelap Rao (Drag Me To Hell) are perfectly cast as the background members of the team, giving just the right touch of comic relief whilst at the same time supplying well-rounded and believable characters. Even Ellen Page (Juno, X-Men The Last Stand), who usually makes my eyes bleed with hatred, manages to be a little less than utterly infuriating. Oh, and Ken Watenabe? Well, he’s just fab.

After all the stigma that surrounded The Dark Knight, Nolan has delivered to audiences a film that really does deserve the publicity. Well-shot, engaging and memorable for all the right reasons, Inception is one of those rarities that may well stand the test of time. Well done Mister Nolan, well done indeed.

Indulging Curiosity

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
(David Fincher, 2008)

3.5 Stars

There are many occasions when a DVD sits, still in its packaging, upon my shelf for months and months without viewing. Sometimes it’s a random purchase that I didn’t really want, sometimes it’s a gift that, though with the best intentions, isn’t really my cup of tea. Sometimes, and indeed more often, however, it’s simply a case of a film that I’ve been wanting to watch for a long time, but just haven’t been in the right mood for. On that count, I will eventually get round to The Hurt Locker as well at some point.

And so to David Fincher’s Oscar magnet, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. Naturally, I had heard a lot about this one, and as such avoided it like the plague for a good year before actually sitting down to watch it. Let the hype die down and all.

I must say that for a good half hour, I wasn’t overly sold. The screenplay, coupled with Fincher’s maudlin photography echoes Burton’s Big Fish, feeling somewhat old hat. Cue Brad Pitt, however, and the movie soon picks up, following Pitt as his life plays out in reverse.

Indeed, the concept is intriguing, but, as was pointed out by a likewise criticiser of the motion picture of whom I am blessed with acquaintance, had he not been living his life backwards, this would have been an utterly dull film; the story of his life is actually rather lacklustre, and the people he meets, baring the wonderful Jason Flemyng as Button’s father, are without the charm of the aforementioned Burton outing.

That said, it’s entertaining, and at times pulls on just the right heartstrings. At not far off three hours though, this is a life story that really could have done with a little more incident.

Are You Sure It's Plugged In...?

The IT Crowd
Season 4
(2010)

3 Stars

Graham Linehan is something of a champion of British sitcom; having delighted us over the last two decades with such brilliances as Father Ted, Black Books and The Fast Show, he has shown us his ongoing genius over the last few years in the top-notch sitcom The IT Crowd.

A fantastic cast and some of the wittiest surrealism imaginable came together in this comedy of errors set in the IT department of the mighty Renholm Industries, reigned over by the ever-awesome Matt Berry.

Unfortunately, after three years of being possibly the funniest show on British TV, it looks as if the crowd is starting to get clogged up with spam. Series four has, for the most part, been a crushing disappointment. Whereas former seasons have been generally reliable on the laugh front, spattered with ingenious plots and memorable one-liners, this year’s set of six has left this fan somewhat despondent.

True, there have been moments, notably the moment when geeky Moss (Richard Ayoade) gives his ethos “I came here to drink milk and kiss ass… And I’ve just finished my milk”, and the season finale’s Sexy Star Trek video, but generally each episode has failed to raise more than a couple of smirks.

The one exception is episode 4.04, which sees unlucky in love Roy (Chris O’Dowd) trying to work out exactly how his new girlfriend’s parents managed to perish in an aquarium fire, whilst ever hopeless Jen (Katherine Parkinson) tries to convince the board that she speaks Italian.

Despite the sketchy and overly episodic nature of this season, it has been nice to see the development of Moss’s character; having been nothing more than a running nerd gag (albeit a brilliant one) for the last three years, this season has seen Moss begin to grow into a more confident and believable character. Alas, he has been given far too little to do in many episodes.

I don’t know. Perhaps I put this show on too much of a pedal-stool, but it seems to have become a bit of a damp squid compared to its early days. Perhaps we need to try turning it off and on again.

Learning Japanese with Takeshi Kitano

Learning Japanese is no easy feat. Let no-one ever tell you it is. Having learned French from an early age, and been enchanted by Latin from seven, I’ve always had a fascination with language. Japanese, however, is a whole different kettle of sushi.

With no root language even remotely similar to our Roman ancestry, Japanese is not only alien to look at, with its three different alphabet systems, but also entirely unique in its grammar, phonics and just about every other aspect of communicative linguistics. As such, despite having been submerged in this country for a year now, I still struggle past even the most basic of communications.

That said, I’m coming along. At a recent teachers’ seminar, someone brought up the concept of “Recall and Recognition”, wherein the first stage of learning a language is being able to understand what is going on. Whether or not one can take an active part in a conversation is not important, it’s the fact that the content of said conversation is understood. Naturally, knowing roughly what the subject is to start with is always helpful…

So, today, with the theory of R&R in mind, I decided to visit a film that I know relatively well; Kinji Fukasaku’s infamous political thriller and general blood-fest, Battle Royale.

Having seen the film twice before, and ravenously devouring the book earlier this year, BR is a tale I’m familiar with, and probably my favourite Japanese film to date. And so, an adventure. A test, if you will.

Battle Royale, without subtitles.


Battle Royale
(Kinji Fukasaku, 2000)

4.5 Stars

Based on perhaps Japan’s most notorious book of all time, Kinji Fukasaku’s film version of Koushun Takami’s 1999 tome Battle Royale seems to be one of those marmite movies… You either love it, or you hate it. The hate, however, seems not to stem from the film itself, but the concept; in a dystopian near-future, the Japanese government have turned to extreme measures in an attempt to control their rebellious students. The BR Act dictates that one class of high school students shall fight to the death each year, thus eliminating rowdy students and acting as a deterrent for subsequent classes.

It’s a twisted concept on paper, and even watching the film, and having read the book, it’s one that’s difficult to comprehend the reasons behind. It is, nonetheless, one of the most shocking and disturbing ideas for a story that one could come up with. I remember fondly the moment I first realised the impact of this movie; watching, for the first time, the scene in which the forty school-kids are told that they must kill their nearest and dearest friends if they wish to survive the next seventy-two hours. Told via a grinning TV presenter, this is truly one of the most nauseating and thought-provoking scenes I have ever come across.

Following heroes Nanahara (played with just the right amount of annoying whininess by Tatsuya Fujiwara) and Noriko (Aki Maeda) as they attempt to survive the program, we are introduced to an array of supporting characters, most of whom unfortunately don’t get enough screen time to explore their intricate stories outlined in the book. Instead, Fukasaku concentrates on the major arcs from the book, portraying them well and, for the most part, with deliciously shocking effect. Most notably, the infamous “lighthouse” scene, in which the true effects of the Programme are shown; distrust, betrayal, and inevitably, bloody, bloody death.

The acting is top notch throughout; Taro Yamamoto is wonderful as the rugged and world-weary Shogo Kawada, whilst Masanobu Ando is maniacally malicious as cold-blooded killer Kazuo Kiriyama. Alas, his death is rather anti-climactic.

The star of the show, however, is the legendary Takeshi Kitano, who not only adds an element of the blackest comedy to an otherwise bleak tale, but also brings an uncomfortable tenderness to a character that could have easily been played as a simple bastard.

Perhaps my only gripe with the film is the pretentious poems which follow the majority of the deaths. Displayed across the screen, these do little more than detract from what’s actually going on within the movie.

Beautifully shot in some fantastic locations, and with a score of perfectly chosen classical instrumentations, Battle Royale is truly a masterpiece of Asian cinema, and indeed of cinema itself. The haters, in my opinion, don’t hate it for the craft, they hate it for the content.

And did I understand it?

Let’s just say I’m glad I’ve seen it before…

God Bless The Outcasts

The Hunchback of Notre Dame
(Gary Trousdale and Kirk Wise, 1996)

4 Stars

Having watched The Little Mermaid earlier this week, I decided last night, after a rather crappy day at the office, the revisit another bit of Disney nostalgia, this time in the disfigured form of everyone’s favourite bell-ringer, Quasimodo.

Admittedly, The Hunchback was never one of my utmost favourites as a kid. I never disliked it, it just wasn’t necessarily a film of choice. Watching it now, I’m really not sure why. Perhaps its dark undertones and somewhat more grownup themes are, like The Princess and the Frog (which I also watched again over the weekend, but shan’t be reviewing for a second time, ‘cause it’s still amazing), what make it all that bit more appealing to an adult.

Hunchback’s animation is seamlessly stunning, standing out as one of the first films where CGI was really coming into its own. The wide shots of Paris, and of the eponymous cathedral are beautifully rendered, and at the time, I’m sure, would have been all the more impressive.

Each of the perfectly designed characters is brought to life by an equally aptly chosen voice artist, ranging from Kevin Kline and Demi Moore, to Jason Alexander and Mary Wickes (in her final role). It’s actually a rather impressive display of stars; signifying perhaps just how well Disney were doing for themselves at this point.

To compliment the darker feel of the tale, Menken and Schwartz really pull out the stops with an equally dark soundtrack, the twin pinnacles of which are the haunting “God Save the Outcasts” and the deliciously evil “Hellfire”.

Perhaps the least well-loved of Disney’s nineties hey-day, this is none-the-less a film that stands proudly amongst the rest, a tale of hope, despair, and inevitably redemption. With singing gargoyles.

Fairytale Ending

Shrek Forever After
(Mike Mitchell, 2010)

2 Stars

Ten years ago, hitherto unknown division of Universal Studios, Dreamworks Pictures shook Disney Pixar to the bone by producing one of the most innovative and original animations the world had ever seen. Turning the traditional fairytale entirely on its head, Shrek introduced us to the eponymous ogre and his world of Mother-goose-eries with hilarious and memorable results.

Of course, being a successful family film these days gives way to an inevitable sequel, which was delivered with suitable aplomb, building on its predecessor and, in a fair few ways, improving upon it. The third film, quite honestly, was so appallingly forgettable that I had to check the plot summary on IMDB to remind myself that I had indeed seen it. Which alas I have.

A poor three-quel, however, is rarely something that will put me off going to see a fourth instalment if the studios do so insist on making one. As such, it was with a mild sense of apathy that I sat down to film four, the naffly named Shrek Forever After, last night.

I shall start by saying that this wasn’t necessarily a bad film. There was enough going on to keep me at least awake for the film’s eighty minute duration. The fact is, however, much like Shrek the Third, this simply feels like an elongated episode of a sub-quality TV series that never happened. The story is nothing more than It’s a Wonderful Life with fairytale characters; Shrek is having a mid-life crisis, what with wife and kids in tow, and subsequently makes a deal with nasty pixie Rumplestiltskin to spend a day as a “real” ogre again, in exchange for a day from Shrek’s past. Nominally, the day Shrek was born. Cue a tale of “oh crap, I want my life back” that we’ve seen all too many times since Jimmy Stewart first wanted to live again.

In a far departure from its namesake, Shrek Forever After is also about as funny as watching grass grow. It dawned on me about thirty minutes into the movie that I had not even cracked a smile once, soon making me realise that the once hilarious team of Mike Myers and Eddie Murphy are doing nothing more than going through the motions. Even Antonio Bandaras as Puss in Boots failed to raise more than a curt smirk.

Without the warmth and originality of the first movie, it feels now like Dreamworks are simply churning out uninspired, unfunny sequels for no other reason than the marketing opportunities. The fairytale looks like it’s well and truly ended for this tired donkey of a series.

Part of Your World

The Little Mermaid
(John Musker and Ron Clements, 1989)

5 Stars

I’ve spoken in the past of the problems with reviewing childhood favourites; there’s a sense of sweet nostalgia that taints even the most impartial of critics. And to say I was impartial would be like saying the Pope is Jewish.

When it comes to Disney though, pretty much every film prior to the “end” of the 2D animated feature with Home on the Range in 2004 has some kind of emotional or nostalgic remembrance, and none so more than 1989’s classic, The Little Mermaid.

The film that re-ignited the flame of Disney’s torch, The Little Mermaid was the first film I went to see at the cinema, back in the days of the reel-changing interval and the orange split ice-lolly, it can probably be blamed for most of my subsequent filmatic obsessions.

But what made this film so special? Why was this the movie that made Disney big again? During the eighties, there were some true classics; Oliver and Company had some fantastic tunes, and The Great Mouse Detective remains to this day one of the most underated Disney movies of all time. True, The Black Cauldron was shoddy, but everyone makes mistakes, right?

I think what does it, more than anything, is the juxtaposition of Menken and Ashman’s instantly memorable score with its bold, bright and beautiful animation. Throw in some of animation’s most memorable sidekicks and villains and you really do have a recipe for infinite success. Add to that cinema’s sexiest and most aurally enchanting mermaid and need I say more?

Disney will always hold a very special place in my heart, but Ariel and her friends hold the honour of reigning over the rest with aquatic audacity. True, Basil of Baker Street took us on a more thrilling escapade, and Hercules will forever bring a tear to my eye as he Goes the Distance, but Ariel and I shared something special. And it wasn’t just an orange ice lolly.

Maximum Entertainment

Titan Maximum
(2009)

4 Stars

As regular readers will know, I spend far too many hours of my life searching for those rare gems of TV gold that do occasionally surface amongst the general drudge of televisual mundanity.

One of the few channels to regularly deliver little unknown cult gems is the home of “grown up” cartoonage, Adult Swim. Over the past few years, AS has given us such classics as Robot Chicken and Harvey Birdman: Attorney At Law, as well as being the current home to the more mainstream hits Family Guy and South Park.

Having exhausted Robot Chicken over the past few months (I may or may not do a review shortly, dependant on my mood), I was delighted to discover another little show from creators Seth Green and Matthew Senreich, along with writer Tom Root.

Titan Maximum, like its predecessor, is a wonderfully fun adventure in stop-motion animation, this time taking us into the all too familiar world of giant robot space escapades. Paying homage to Voltron, Battle of the Planets, Power Rangers and just about any teenagers/battle robot-based show, Titan Maximum tells, over nine ten minute episodes, an intricate tale of adventure, romance and betrayal, interspersed with cutting comedy and captivating crudeness, all spiced up with a crotch-crunching robot.

A cast of loathable yet loveable characters, ranging from douche-bag egocentric hero Palmer, sex symbol Sasha and the fantastic Admiral Bitchface, brought to life by a collection of some of the finest voice actors in the business; Breckin Meyer, Seth Green, Rachel Leigh Cook and even the legendary Billy Dee Williams, create a truly memorable experience, interspersed with one of the sharpest scripts I’ve seen in an adult cartoon in a long time.

Low viewing figures has left Titan Maximum’s future uncertain, but rest assured, this is a ball-busting piece of genius from a team that never fails to impress.

Nom Nom Nom (Part Two)

So, to continue my bumper bundle of beauties from my newfound chums at http://www.napajapan.com/ we have some Hokaido specials, as well as the elusive new soda flavours that I nearly made the foolhardy mistake of not picking up last weekend at the 7/11.

Banana KitKat – 3.5 Fingers

This is another of last year’s specials that I rather fell in love with and have been trying to track down since. Bananas and chocolate are an obvious combination, dating back to that first brave man to wrap the two together in tinfoil and throw it on a raging barbecue. Nestle’s venture is a delightful milk chocolate outing that tastes like a yummy banana milkshake. Top banana.

Corn KitKat – 1 Finger

This is the first of two Hokaido specials that NapaJapan were happy to oblige me with. What the hell they were thinking, I’m not sure. Why anyone would want corn flavoured chocolate, I really don’t know. Though utterly disgusting, this KitKat does taste exactly like buttery sweetcorn. But seriously, not a good thing.

Melon KitKat – 3 Fingers

I’ve never been big on the fruity flavours, but I must say that the second of the Hokaido editions is much easier on the tastebuds than its brother. Melony and sweet, its one downfall is the horribly sickly aftertaste.

Cola KitKat – 3 Fingers

Yes, that’s right, Cola flavour. It’s an odd one to say the least, but somehow it works. It think the chocolate is a brown coloured white, though it could be a strangely light milk… Really not sure to be honest. The flavour is a wonderfully aromatic mix of cola and milk, somewhat akin to a traditional coke float. Nom.

Lemon Soda KitKat – 2 Fingers

This is one that really should’ve worked better than it does… Lemon and chocolate is fun, and by and large the soda style bars have been some of the fore-runners in the polls. However, the experience is somewhat underwhelming. White chocolate with an all too subtle lemon hint. Add a little fizz and a bit more pizzazz, and this could’ve been a classic. Alas, it’s flatter than a bottle of White’s that’s had the top left off too long.