Why I Hate Glee

Back in November, I stumbled across afore-to unheard of in the UK musical drama series Glee. Having never come across it beforehand, I watched the first episode with indifference, a feeling that was replaced with sheer and unbridled delight within moments. For weeks, I was humming songs from the show (Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing” and CCR’s “Proud Mary” being amongst my favourites), and urging my friends to check it out. But did they listen? Did they heck.

And now? Now one can’t even look at Facebook without suffering the slings and arrows of outrageous fandom. It’s like a musical Twilight. “Team Quinn or Team Rachel”. For Christ’s sake.

Glee is an ingenious idea, playing off the success of recent cinematic events such as the High School Musical films, and Mamma Mia (to quote Hugh Jackman “The Musical is back!”). The story in a nutshell revolves around a school glee choir and the misadventures of both the students and the staff thereof. Musical interludes are in abundance, with every show culminating in a performance by the choir that somehow fits in with the theme of the episode. On paper, it’s a fair enough plot, but on screen it works with aplomb.

But it’s not just the music that makes this show great; the performances of the young actors are both intelligent and touching. Chris Colfer as Kurt is, quite frankly, outstanding. The episode in which he comes out to his father is one of the most beautiful pieces of television I’ve seen in a long time. Jenna Ushkowitz as “stuttering” Tina is breathtaking, especially in her performance of “True Colors” (I think I’m developing somewhat of a fetish for Asians singing that song… Disturbing…) and Amber Riley as Aretha-Wannabe Mercedes is a great big ball of black energy.

Unfortunately, these supporting and often show-stealing characters are often overshadowed by the “main” cast; Lea Mitchell as self-obsessed Rachel, Diana Agron as pregnant cheerleader Quinn, and Cory Monteith as Jock Finn… They’re all very good, but, in my humble opinion, there’s little originality in their characterisation. Hopefully when the second half of the series begins shortly, we shall see a little more new material in their personalities.

The adult cast are impeccable though, with Matthew Morrison stealing the show as downcast music teacher Mr. Schue, and Jayma Mays as the wonderfully cutesy Emma Pilsbury. I must admit to a huge “aww” when the finale came round. Jane Lynch also pulls on some big boots as bitchy cheerleading coach Sue Sylvester, the main antagonist of the series. Her interplay with Morrison is simply delightful to watch, with a bitter humour that is rarely seen in saccharine American sitcoms.

Okay, so I lied. I don’t hate Glee. I’m just not a sheep. I’m a gosh-darned shepherd; just no bugger listens to me. That’ll do pig. That’ll do.

Glee
(2009-Present)

4 Stars

Championship Records

High Fidelity
(Stephen Frears, 2000)

5 Stars

Some might say it’s a little unfair to attempt an impartial review of one of my favourite films, based on one of the few books that I’ve read more than twice, but you know what? It’s my blog, and I’ll do what I ruddy like.

Stephen Frears’ tale of love, loss and lyrics, High Fidelity, based on Nick Hornby’s book of the same name, is a eulogy to the modern man. Not the macho, not the successful, but to the downtrodden, the romantic, and most importantly, the Everyman.

In his books, Hornby continuously creates heroes with which the reader can identify with within moments of entering the world of the story. And none so more than the hopeless Rob of High Fidelity. His first person narrative, captured beautifully in the movie’s script, perfectly embodies the neuroses and self-deprecation that, for this writer at least, fill every waking hour of every day. John Cusack’s (Con Air, Serendipity) tender and yet wired performance as Rob gives us a real hero of the modern age, and is perhaps the finest role of his career so far.

And what is a man without his friends? Jack Black (Tenacious D, The School of Rock, etc) as petulant pedant Barry (the part that both made and stole his career) is perfectly cast, and reading the book now, one can only imagine Black in the role, especially in his show-stopping performance of Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get it On”. The oft forgotten Todd Louiso as shy music geek Dick is wonderful, relishing in his introvert nerdiness, reminiscent of the great (and also oft forgotten) Tom Lenk.

Supporting actors not to be forgotten, however, with Iben Hjejle putting in a strong show as Rob’s on/off girlfriend Laura, and Lisa Bonet giving a soul-wrenching rendition of Peter (fucking) Frampton’s “Baby I Love Your Way” as the gorgeous musician and muse Marie de Salle. Tim Robbins as the greasy Ian is a hilarious addition to proceedings. The award however, simply must to go to Mr. Bruce Springsteen for possibly the greatest movie cameo of all time. The use of the 1980 track “The River” (although in the book, Hornby does specify “Thunder Road”…) is also beautiful. Thanks Boss.

Frears and his team, despite moving the tale to America (which strangely works; thus proving the universal nature of Hornby’s material), manage to capture the very essence of the novel; fast paced, neurotic, and ultimately heart-breaking. High Fidelity is a movie about music, about ambition, about love, and, more than anything, about soul.

Darkplace it Ain't

The Devil’s Chair
(Adam Mason, 2006)

1 Star

It’s a very rare occasion when ones comes out of a film wondering if it was meant to be a parody or not, and with this bizarre piece of British horror, despite my somewhat disturbing some might say knowledge of the genre, I was left utterly perplexed as to whether I should have been taking it seriously.

Of course when casting Matt Berry, best known for his sojourn as “horror” actor Todd Rivers in Garth Merenghi’s Darkplace, a team must surely be taking their material with at least half an ounce of irony. Indeed, had this actually been a feature length episode of Darkplace, it would have been genius; the bad acting, the freeze-framing to allow for moments of voice-over narration… Even the monster itself looks like something from a Merenghi novel.

Alas, one gets the feeling that the creative minds behind The Devil’s Chair were really going for something much smarter than a simple parody. It seems as though there were aspirations of a Kubrik-style cerebral affront, that unfortunately gets lost in the mess of poor script, poor acting (save for Mr. Berry, who clearly sees the film for the trite that it is, and relishes therein) and poor direction.

I shan’t bore you with the nonsensical story, and indeed the “ingenious” twist at the end, because much like the film itself, it really isn’t worth it.

If however, like me, you wish to see the reprisal of “Todd Rivers’” career, this is one to watch. Just do what I did; replace the narration with that of Matthew Holness, the blonde girl with Alice Lowe and the old chap with Richard Ayoade. Therein lays success.

The one star? For having possibly the best line in a horror movie ever, and one which had me weeping with laughter; Matt Berry, when asked to investigate the mysterious chair – “Okay, but after, we carry on from where we were; I’ve got a right horn on”

KitKat Monthly

Things have been quiet as ever down here in deep dark Yanai. With the Spring storms raging, and the Ume blossoms fighting valiantly against the rain, I’ve been stuck indoors almost perpetually, working hard on a new screenplay (a secret for the time being I’m afraid), as well as continuing the illustrated adventures of Alfonso the Ant (coming soon to a book store near you…?).

Kids have been crazy, and with the end of the school year rapidly approaching I have been busy saying emotional goodbyes to some of my kindergarten classes as they move on to elementary school.

The light at the end of the tunnel? Why, KitKats of course! And here are the rather Spartan offerings of the last few weeks. Fortunately, the Maple variety is still available everywhere, so rather living off that one at the moment. There is talk of the legendary Soy Sauce species making its way to Yanai soon though… Tantalising, eh?

KitKat Petit – 3 Fingers

This is, I guess, somewhat akin to the KitKat Kubes that Nestle released a few years ago; tiny, bite-sized ingots of KitKatty goodness. They’re a bit pointless really, but being Japan, everything has to be tiny. So goes without saying that they should shrink (the already smaller than the rest of the world anyway) KitKats too. 3 stars simply because it’s a standard KitKat. Just miniaturised.

Custard Pudding KitKat – 2.5 Fingers

A few weeks ago, I had a singularly Elysian experience with a custard pudding KitKat bar, one of the greatest chocolate creations I have come across since coming to the far corners of the globe. As such, I was thrilled to find a multi-pack of standard sized custard-lings. Unfortunately, they messed up big time. Whilst the bar variety is an aromatic milk chocolate adventure, some clever boots decided to make its everyday counterpart a white chocolate version. And it just doesn’t work anywhere near as well… Sickly and stodgy, it does grow on you, but alas nothing compared to its big brother. Poo.


Semi-Sweet KitKat – 3 Fingers

I must admit, I had to call in the experts up in Tokyo to decipher what this one actually was, but I must say, despite the bizarre name, it’s pretty good. It’s a dark chocolate bar with a little extra kick… Exactly what the kick is, I’m not sure, but I like it. An enigma of a bar, wrapped in delightful Emo clothing. Hazah.

Banana KitKat Bar - 3.5 Fingers

Once again, the crown prince of candy this month goes to the mini-feast that is the KitKat bar. This month’s offer is a banana variety, and, unlike the standard banana bar of December, this is a white chocolate treat. With a great aroma, the perfect level of banana flavour, this is a real man’s snack. Kudos to the chaps in Bar Division; you’ve come up trumps again!

Manga Extravaganza

Manga is a huge part of Japanese life. Out West, we are all familiar with the joys of anime and the Nippon obsession with bubble-eyed schoolgirls and the despicable monsters that would have their way with them. Those who attended my leaving party last year were the unfortunate spectators of my own interpretation of the delights of hentai.

I remember fondly my time in Tokyo, seeing grown men on the brimful subways, all deeply immersed in their comic book of choice. Indeed, so much is the love of manga, that unlike in the West, where you are an oddball if you like comics, those who shy away of the monthly instalments of Naruto and other such page-turners in Japan are considered just plain weird.

So, this month, having received a bundle of books from one of my young students, I decided to immerse myself in the comic culture of Japan. And what with having to pay a small fortune to satisfy my X-Men addiction, I figured why the heck not? And so, fair readers, here’s the run down on a few of the popular pulp over in the far reaches of the East.

Case Closed!

Bloodhounds, bloodshed and beheadings adorn every page of this addictive little detective story, a Japanese dedication to the works of Conan Doyle. Jimmy Kudo is a high school prodigy, adept at solving mysteries that beguile even the most adept of the local police force. That is until the mysterious Men in Black subject him to an experimental drug that turns him into a six year old boy.

Taking the pseudonym Conan Edogawa, Jimmy struggles to hide his true identity whilst at the same time tracking down his new nemesis and fighting his feelings for the lovely Rachel. With a plethora of brain-busting puzzles and a sharp-tongued wit, Jimmy’s adventures are fun for all the family.

The Wonderful World of Sanzae-San

I think this is some kind of daily comic strip. The Japanese Peanuts perhaps, telling the story of a dysfunctional Japanese family, and centring around the exploits of the scatterbrained Sanzae. Perhaps akin to America’s Family Circus, though I don’t know as my knowledge of that is merely through sitcom osmosis. It’s a peculiar one, and most definitely a Jap thing. Some of it is laugh out loud hilarious, but the vast majority of strips left me with a real feeling of “sorry, what?”

Doraemon

Doraemon is something of a national treasure round these parts. His face adorns just about every variety of merchandise imaginable, and with his 30th movie having just hit cinemas, he continues to reign supreme. At first, I must admit, I though he was some kind of seal, but turns out he’s actually a robot cat from the future, able to produce anything from his magical pouch. It’s all a little strange really, and like Sanzae-San, I often found myself utterly bewildered. Give me Garfield any day.

Battle Royale

Koushin Takami’s notorious novel became famous throughout the world with the release of the infamous movie of the same name. And the book is great, don’t get me wrong. I read it a few months ago, and it truly is a page turner. Unfortunately, it leaves many questions unanswered, and leaves you wanting so much more. So, with a team of artists, Takami decided to give his audience exactly what they wanted; an explicit, blood-soaked multi-volume comic book expanding on the world created within the pages of his book.

The Battle Royale manga is beautifully illustrated, with just the right gore to up-skirt ratio one desires in any good adult oriented manga, and gives each and every student of the ill-fated class their own backstory. It also makes the villains all the more terrifying, relishing in their psychoses, and finally explaining why they are just so darned disturbed. Five full stars for awesomeness here.

Dog Fight

Cujo

(Stephen King, 1981)

VS

Cujo

(Lewis Teague, 1983)

After many a late night video taping of such classics as Carrie and Christine, I finally bought my first Stephen King book, aged thirteen, from a Sunday afternoon antiques fair. It was an omnibus edition of perhaps King’s three most famous stories; The Shining, Carrie and Misery. I remember fondly how I pawed my way through it, finishing Carrie in a matter of hours. Even at that age I realised that King was not simply a purveyor of schlock horror like his inferior counterpart Dean Koontz, but rather a master of story telling and character building.

It is something of a shame, therefore, that the films made of his stories are rarely a patch upon the original works. Yes, Kubrik’s The Shining is a true piece of cinematic mastery, with a visceral terror that few have surpassed, and the TV movie of IT is a wonderful showcase for Tim Curry’s inimitable talent. However, where directors have failed is in trying to capture the compassion and familiarity that King creates in every one of his characters, even those fated to death within moments of their introduction.

And thus, upon finishing King’s story of madness and claustrophobia, Cujo, I decided to revisit a film that I have not watched in perhaps a decade.

In Cujo, King introduces us to his usual array of characters; the failing writer (in this case an advertising artist), the curiously perceptive child, the portly cop… It’s certainly familiar ground. In this venture, however, King strays from his usual tale of the supernatural and delivers a truly terrifying story of the decent into madness of a loving family pet who is tragically bitten by a rabid bat. The lack of other-worldly undertones makes Cujo all the more haunting, as throughout the story, one feels that this time round, these events really could happen.

The personification of Cujo himself is beautifully formed, and makes his plight all the more tragic. Indeed, when the story is over, King reminds us that it was through no fault of his own, and merely a sickening twist of fate that brought about Cujo’s end.

The nauseating feeling of claustrophobia throughout the final two hundred pages of the book is perfectly written, with the few reprises of characters outside the fated car seeming like a real breath of fresh air. Perfect pacing and narrative from a real master of not just the genre, but of literature itself.

And so to the film. Lewis Teague does a good job of creating the atmosphere of tension, and the plight of our car-bound heroes. Horror veteran Dee Wallace (The Howling, Critters) delivers a career defining performance as Donna Trenton, and the relationship she creates with her son, Tad, is utterly believable.

Unfortunately, where Teague falters is exactly where every other director of a King-based movie does so; we simply do not know enough or care enough about the characters to make the story as hard-hitting as the book. In Cujo, Teague makes the bad people bad, and the good people good; there is no reason behind motives, and no redemption of the ill-fated. The happy Hollywood ending also completely undermines the point of the book.

Cujo himself is portrayed, quite unfortunately, as a typical movie monster. We don’t see his compassion and loyalty as we do in King’s writing, and as such the empathy one feels for him is lost.

However, that said, Cujo is a decent enough horror movie, and as a stand alone flick, it does a good job – a hefty number of scares, and some great makeup effects on the job. Alas, it’s no successor to the King.

Book - 4 Stars

Movie - 3 Stars

Who Put The Glad in Gladiator?

Hercules
(Ron Clements and John Musker, 1997)

4 Stars

It’s very difficult to review a Disney movie objectively. An overwhelming sense of nostalgia emanates from every lyric, and association from each line. I think every child in the Western world has a connection with one of the classics; for me it was The Great Mouse Detective, for my brother Luke, Cinderella (not so surprising really…), and for my youngest brother Harry, it was the star-studded odyssey into Grecian myth that was 1997’s Hercules. Indeed so much was Harry’s love for the demi-god that he would tie a tea-towel around his neck, arm himself with rolling pin and sewing-box-lid shield and proclaim “I’m Harry-cles, and I happanabe A HERO!”

But let’s not embarrass him any further. Hercules, Disney’s 35th animated feature, takes us on a legendary journey into Ancient Greece, and though rather elaborate with the “true” stories, it’s a ruddy good bit of fun, adorned with romance, humour, betrayal, and good ol’ family fun.

Watching Hercules now, having got over a tearful little trip down Memory Lane during the heart-wrenching “Go the Distance”, I could truly appreciate just why Disney movies are real “family” entertainment. Though animated, and with all the fun of the fair, Hercules is a very mature story, with many references that will be lost on kids, that still manages to keep enough basic humour to keep the kiddies a’giggling. And, something I never noticed as a child, it’s really sexy… The tension between Hercules and the temptress Megara is so raunchy that I honestly don’t believe critics these days would allow it to pass in a Universal rating. But censorship is perhaps a story for another day.

The animation is wonderful, throwing us fully into every aspect of the Grecian world, and although the CGI is a little dated (the Hydra, terrifying at the time, looks a bit pants now I’m afraid), it is more than made up for by the seamless pen and pencil art. A skill the team have brought back to good use in the recent The Princess and the Frog, reviewed earlier this week.

The voice cast too is impressive, with James Woods (Casino, Once Upon A Time in America) at his evil best as the devilish Hades, and Rip Torn (Men in Black, Dodgeball) showing a softer side of his booming voice as Herc’s father, Zeus. Cameo roles are in abundance, with the likes of Charlton Heston, BobCat Goldthwaite, Paul Shaffer, Wayne Knight, and many more throwing in a few lines here and there, creating perhaps one of the most high-profile voice casts in animation history.

Of course, what is a Disney movie without music? A lesson learned well in fan-failures such as Atlantis and Treasure Planet (both of which I quite like actually…). And what makes Hercules so utterly divine is the soundtrack; a rousing gospel motif from the minds of Alan Menkin and David Zippel. This is one of the few films where one can honestly say that every song is a hit, from the opening “The Gospel Truth”, to the stirring finale “A Star is Born”, every song oozes memorability. Of course, it is young Hercules’ (voiced by Roger Bart, son of legendary composer Lionel) rendition of “Go the Distance” that steals the screen, creating one of the finest Disney songs of all time. Congrats chaps; another masterpiece.

In all, Hercules is a real classic, and though often overshadowed by The Lion King, Aladdin, Beauty and the Beast (let’s face it, Disney had a pretty good run in the nineties), for me it will always stand strong amongst the greats. Thirteen years ago, a star was born, and it still shines bright to this day.

Science Fiction Double Feature

The Fly
(David Cronenberg, 1986)

4 Stars

“Be afraid, be very afraid” audiences were warned as they swarmed to David Cronenberg’s horror hit The Fly, and in a time of scientific exploration and somewhat of an obsession with the idea of teleportation, Brooksfilms hit it big with a gory remake of the classic bug-fest of the same name.

The Fly is the good old-fashioned story of boy meets girl, love ensues and boy turns bad. But the boy here is not your everyman; he is in fact scientific prodigy Seth Brundle (the ever enthralling Jeff Goldblum – Jurassic Park, The Big Chill, etc…), who has just created a machine capable of teleporting matter from one place to another. Step in reporter Geena Davis (Beetle Juice, Thelma and Louise), who whilst writing a report on Brundle’s discovery finds herself falling for his nerdy charms.

Of course, everything goes pear shaped (or indeed fly-shaped) when Brundle attempts to use the machine on himself, accidentally fusing his genetic makeup with that of a rogue fly that has entered the transportation pod with him. Brundle’s subsequent deterioration into the fly-beast “BrundleFly” sets us on a terrifying and nauseating examination on exactly what it means to be a man and what it means to harbour a monster within.

Both Goldblum and Davis deliver stellar performances, with Goldblum truly making one sympathise with his condition, yet causing sheer horror when the moment calls for it. The scene in which we see his ever-growing collection of dismembered body parts is one of the most disturbing scenes I’ve witnessed in a long time. And I watched Turtles III the other week. John Getz (Zodiac, Curly Sue) as Davis’ love-scorned boss creates in the audience a wonderful blend of hatred and compassion as he falls victim to the monstrous BrundleFly.

The Oscar winning special effects are as frightening today as they were a quarter of a century ago, and the fate of the kind hearted but ambitious scientist is a true Icarus tale for the modern age, cautioning us that no matter man or insect, no-one should try to fly too close to the sun.

The Fly II
(Chris Wallas, 1989)

2.5 Stars

And so we move to the second instalment. I shan’t hark on about horror sequels. I’ve done that enough of late. And although The Fly II certainly doesn’t deliver to the standard of, say, Aliens, it doesn’t do too bad a job of living up to its predecessor’s name. Sure, it’s by no means a patch on the original, and not maintaining any of the former cast doesn’t help, but there’s a flicker of a candle there nonetheless.

The story begins pretty much exactly where the first movie left off; Geena Davis’ character (no longer played by Geena Davis in the three seconds she’s actually in the film) gives birth to the son of BrundleFly (a maggot that for some reason immediately sheds its skin and becomes a baby boy), dying in the process. The child, thereafter named Martin, is taken into the care of pharmaceutical tycoon Anton Bartok (Lee Richardson). Within days, the child begins to exhibit signs of rapid growth, and by the age of five he has become a fully grown adult (Chicago Hope veteran Eric Stoltz).

Martin soon falls for a young lab technician (Daphne Zuniga, doing her very best impression of Geena Davis) and uncovers the sinister truth behind the experiments that his surrogate father has been running on him. He escapes from the facility, only to begin degenerating into the fly creature that his father before him had become. Then cue the beastly rampage. It’s all a bit daft, but it makes sense in the context of the first movie, and is a noble enough attempt to continue the story.

Once again, the special effects are top notch, with BrundleFly V2.0 perhaps even better than the first incarnation. The problem is the characters are kind of naff really… The acting is mediocre at best, so any subtleties the writers had perhaps been going for are rather lost. And, as mentioned, the story is a little all over the place.

The first movie was, at heart, a tragic love story. The second attempts to emulate this, but unfortunately we just don’t care enough about the characters. The young actors who play Martin in his early years do a great job of building the character, but alas, the adult Martin is not a patch on his father. His plight just seems a little dull… “Oh, well, I’m a fly. Ho hum”. But let’s face it, Goldblum leaves some pretty big shoes to fill.

In all, The Fly II delivers exactly what one would expect from a decent stab at a sequel; it builds on the mythology in a logical and believable way (at least as believable as can be in a movie about a mutant fly…), and tries to give us a bolder, brassier version of the original. Unfortunately, something Hollywood has taught us, but never seems to learn itself is that unless you’re Coppolla, a sequel just ain’t worth it. Fact.

One Bird, A Thousand Treasures

Itcha Manpou
Yanai City

Japanese dining is always a daunting thing to endeavour alone. So many things that are, to the untrained Gaijin eye, utterly unrecognisable adorn a menu that is illegible to anyone but the fluent and the native. Indeed, unless I can see from the outside that the menu has pictures, I am ever dubious about entering an establishment. It’s just all a little much really.

So with an ounce of excitement and a gaggle of Westerners; an ex-American corporal, an Aussie oil-tanker steward and English teacher Alex’s wife Yoshika, I entered the unassuming yakitori restaurant Itch Manpou (“One bird, a thousand treasures”).

The place is typically Japanese; bar-counter seats make up the furnishings of the smoky but somehow homely establishment, with a party room out back for the more rowdy customers. Alas this time, those were not us.

With Yoshika at the helm, we were taken on a journey through an entire farmyard of meats, beginning, quite frighteningly, with a chicken sashimi (raw, sliced meat). Now, the first lesson you are taught in the kitchen is that you never, under any circumstances, serve uncooked chicken. However, having seen Bourdain imbibe of raw fowl flesh, and under Yoshika’s reassurance, I dove in eagerly. The taste? I guess somehow similar in texture to Parma ham, with its flavour mostly made up (as with most sashimi) of the sauce in which it is served. But it was, surprisingly, quite delicious. And I’m still alive.

After this tentative start, we were presented with a mouth-watering array of different yakitori (essentially Japanese kebabs); a perfectly tender skewer of rib meat, a chicken wing stuffed with gyoza (Chinese dumpling), some delicious pork balls (not literally), and the most sublime piece of duck I’ve had in a long time. Many other sticks of various beast came and went (only one of which, a pork belly meat infused with Japanese basil and ume, I did not wolf down with aplomb), but the highlight of the meal was something I have been waiting to cross off my Things to Eat list for some time now; horse carpaccio.

With its subtle yet gamey flavour and curiously tender texture, horse meat (or "basashi" as it's locally known) was something of a surprise to me. The soy and ginger in which it was served complimented the meat perfectly, making it a real highlight of the evening. I know it’s a little taboo, but when in Rome…

With our stomachs sated, it was time to move on to the heavy drinking, and although the Japanese can’t really hold their liquor, they certainly know how to make it. An array of shochu and sake the likes of which I could never have imagined arrived in front of us. We had ume-shu (Japanese apricot), ocho-ume (green tea and apricot), strawberry, lemon… An entire rainbow of rice-based liqueurs, each outdoing the previous in both flavour and smoothness. And though not one of us dared try the tomato sake, I believe that given a few more shots, we would’ve been game for anything.

Yakitori, like the vast majority of Japanese cuisine, certainly isn’t the dining experience for the faint hearted or weak stomached. Or indeed for vegetarians. But one thing is for sure; Itcha Manpou delivered some of the finest food I have eaten since arriving in Japan, each dish thought through thoroughly to bring out the very best in the meat, whether it be fresh from the bone or char-grilled to perfection. Top notch chaps. Campai!

Back to the Classics

The Princess and the Frog
(Ron Clements and John Musker, 2009)
4 Stars

It’s been a good few years now since Disney released a 2D animation, the last being the so-so Home on the Range, and almost twenty years since the renaissance that brought us such classics as The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast and The Lion King. It’s rather scary really to think that Ariel’s aquatic adventure was the first film I saw at the pictures (back when they still changed the reel half way through and you went into the lobby for your orange ice lolly). Makes one feel rather old at twenty three…

Growing up in Disney’s nineties hay-day has given me something of an adoration for the 2D features. As great as the Pixar outings are, they will never, in my eyes, surpass good old pen and paper.

And so, it has been with rapt anticipation that I have been waiting for the first release from Disney Animation Studios in six years; The Princess and the Frog. From the team behind Aladdin, The Little Mermaid and Hercules, and with music by Randy Newman, I had little doubt that this would be an instant classic. And oh, how I trembled with delight as the first musical number, “Down in New Orleans”, filled my ears.

Set in 1940s Louisiana, with a chorus of racial stereotypes that would make Walt himself proud, The Princess and the Frog could quite easily have been made by Disney himself; such is the overwhelming feel of fun and sheer delight oozing like froggy mucus from the screen.

The Princess and the Frog, based on E.D. Baker’s The Frog Princess tells of a young waitress (notably Disney’s first Afro-American “princess”) who dreams of running her own restaurant. Meanwhile, the despicable voodoo shaman Shadow Man (possibly Disney’s best villain since Ursula the Sea-Witch) curses a young prince, turning him into a frog. From there, we take on a new twist on the classic “kiss the frog” tale, set to some real toe-tapping Jazz numbers from the mind of Mr. Newman, and accompanied by some truly great characters; a trumpet-playing alligator, a blind old voodoo priestess, and, most notably, a hilarious Cajun firefly (voiced by Disney legend Jim Cummings – the voice of Winnie the Pooh, Darkwing Duck, et al…) who falls in love with a star.

The story, although perhaps somewhat hurried at the beginning (exactly why the Shadow Man curses Prince Naveen is not explained until much later in the story, so we are left a little disoriented to start; though perhaps this is the intention…), is intoxicatingly enthralling, and culminates in one of the most powerful endings I think I’ve ever seen in a Disney animated feature. Indeed, I did find myself welling up; something only one other Disney has caused me to do (The Fox and the Hound). The inevitable fate of the Shadow Man is also quite terrifying. I shan’t give anything away, but be sure to be ready to comfort those of a weaker disposition.

The animation is, naturally, flawless, incorporating elements of both classic Disney style and art Deco in order to bring to Technicolor life the warmth and spice of Old N’awlins. Newman shies away from his usual Toy Story tweeness to create an audio world of Jazz, Gospel and, naturally, the mandatory Disney “Some Day My Prince Will Come” style ballad, proving that he is not a one trick piano-based pony.

Fans of the old classics, and indeed the nineties revival, will not be let down by any means. In The Princess and the Frog, Disney have managed to bring us back to the golden age of animation in a new and wonderful setting, keeping the magic and yet thrusting it forward into the new decade. I have big hopes for the next few ventures, The King of the Elves and The Snow Queen, and having had the pleasure of The Princess and the Frog, I’m one thousand percent certain this is just the beginning of a whole new world for Disney Animation Studios.

Three Fingers

In the land of KitKats, offerings have been somewhat on the sparse side of late. However, this week, we have a trio of chocolately goodness for your oral pleasure, two of the relatively ordinary, and one just plain wierd... As ever, we're on the four finger ratig system. Enjoy.

Strawberry KitKat - 3 Fingers

Strawberries and chocolate is a coupling as old as pleasure itself, though having treid Nestle's "Strawberry Fizz KitKat" (a bright pink thing that left a hideous aftertaste) I was somewhat dubious about its new "regular" counterpart. But I was pleasantly surprised. I have generally found strawberries in Japan to be a little bland and tasteless, so was taken aback somewhat by the sweet and pungeant aroma that presented itself as I unwrapped the bar. The taste is good; not too sweet as fruit-flavoured chocolates often are, and thankfully this time, no acrid aftermath. Good work Mr. N.

Citrus KitKat - 3 Fingers

I picked up this bright orange little number whilst in Hiroshima, and have not, as of yet, seen it down here in Yanai. It's a strange one, infusing all three major citrus flavours (orange, lemon and lime) into one KitKat, and giving it a lurid orange hue. But it works rather nicely. A deliciously sour twang and strong flavours of all three fruits produce a curiously tasty treat.

Sakura KitKat - 2.5 Fingers

I've already given my thoughts on the Sakura Starbucks experience (not one I shall be repeating), and maintain a sense of bemusement at the obsession to infuse this national flower into everything imaginable. So it was with a wary tongue that I bit into the green-coloured Sakura (Japanese Cherry Blossom) KitKat. And after all, it wasn't actually too bad. I spent a good few minutes trying to work out what it reminded me of (Kelloggs Bran Flakes of all things...), and although I probably shan't be picking up any more (at least for myself), I shall be eating the remaining bar in the fridge, rather than passing it off on someone else in a future care package. Not that I ever do that. Ever. Certainly not to get rid of Sweet Potato flavour ones (Harry).

Totally Wrong

The Wrong Door (2008-2009)

0.5 Stars

Anyone who knows my comic tastes is aware of my adoration for Mr Matt Berry, star of such cult classics as Garth Merenghi's Dark Place, Snuff Box and of course The IT Crowd. Indeed when I happened across Mr Berry on Carnaby Street last year, I was so overcome by awe that I forgot to ask for an autograph, let alone a photograph. But I did meet him. Honest. And he was beautiful.

As such, when I heard that Mr Berry had appeared in a prior-to unheard of by myself BBC3 sketch show by the name of The Wrong Door, I was drawn to it like a moth to a bonfire. Unfortunately, quite frankly, it's shit.

The Wrong Door, it appears was originally a CBBC pitch, which did not get picked up, so they threw in some damningly unfunny puerility to "appeal to an older audience". And the result is a thirty minute yawn, spattered with already dated (and only one year on) CGI effects, that the producers clearly thought would disguise the utter boredom that seeps from the "comic" material.

Usually, I am quite tickled by obscure humour, but there's obscure and there's just boring. A clear attempt at jumping on the bandwagon of the aforementioned shows, but lesson learned; "wackiness" does not equal funny. The half a star goes to Mr Berry for his four second cameo as a snooker player which just about raised a shadow of a smirk.

Please BBC3, let's try a little harder shall we? Or will we be running repeats of Little Miss Jocelyn again this Spring?

Descending into Mundanity

After an eventful weekend last week, I find myself back to my usual sleepy Sunday routine over here in JapanLand, and with a tummy full of Singapore noodles from my favourite foodery (which is, rather unfortunately, closing down next weekend - though a last hoorah hootenanny is schedualled for Sunday), I settled myself down for the afternoon viewing. This week we have a horror sequel, that really perhaps have stayed hidden underground...

The Descent Part 2 (Jon Harris, 2009) - 2 Stars

Horror sequels are a dangerous thing. As discussed in my last review, they are the curse of the genre, and though it can usually be said with utmost certainly prior to a viewing that there is in no way, shape or form that a follow-up can outdo its predecessor, there is still something that draws us inexplicably to it, much like many a blonde victim who finds herself running up the stairs rather than out of the front door.

And run up the stairs I did whilst pondering what to watch on this drizzly afternoon in Yanai. I knew I should’ve taken one look at The Descent Part 2 and legged it, and yet the promise of outdoing the solid, atmospheric creep-fest that was The Descent was all too appealing. Unfortunately, much like the cornucopia of sub-par and unnecessary sequels that have come before it, The Descent Part 2 (why “Part" 2, I don’t know… Simply to give it more of a “necessary” feel one supposes. One would hope there were no aspirations of Godfather or Back to the Future status here.) really does nothing to enhance the first movie, or indeed the cinema canon itself.

So for the story; two days after the events of the first movie, our heroine, and apparently sole survivor, Sarah (Shauna MacDonald – Spooks) finds herself somewhat catatonic in hospital. The smart-as-a-button local police decide the best things for her is to take her back into the Appalachian cave system from whence she escaped in order to find her missing friends, each of whom perished in the first film at the hands and teeth of the subterranean “Crawlers”. From then on we are taken on a lacklustre déjà vu voyage back into the caves as the crawlers once again reign terror upon the unlucky troupe.

Unfortunately, all atmosphere and tension created in the first movie is lost a second time round, since really, we know exactly what’s coming. Some darkness, some “oh, wasn’t expecting that” jumps, and some delightful throat-tearing. It’s just all a little stale. Even a “surprise” return of abandoned Juno (the mouth-wateringly delicious Natalie Mendoza – Hotel Babylon) from the original trek does little to spice things up. There is simply nothing original here, leaving one pondering as the credits roll (after a really stupid set-up for three-quel ending) exactly what the point of the whole affair actually was.

Alas, I’m sure if and when the third instalment unearths itself, I shall be sitting nonchalantly through it. I guess it’s some kind of sadomasochism that unfortunately the producers of such trite relish in. Until then though, this is one stairwell I certainly shan’t be running up again, nor a hole I shall be descending.

Destination Unknown

Final Destination

(James Wong, 2000)

4 Stars

The late nineties and early “noughties” (a term I utterly despise by the way) were something of a hay-day for teen horrors. With Wes Craven’s re-vamp of the genre in Scream, adolescent audiences flocked in their popcorn gobbling hoards to see a plethora of sub-par scary movies (and the parodies thereof), most of which have since been lost in the nether regions of naffness.

One outing that stands out amongst this often under-appreciated genre however, and indeed despite its ever-worsening stream of sequels (the true curse of an ingenious horror flick) is James Wong’s (who would later soil his name on the uber-flop Dragonball Evolution) Final Destination.

What sets Final Destination apart from its contemporaries is not necessarily anything out of the ordinary within the teen-spook fest; we have a cast of unknowns, a semi-competent script, and some decent directing. No, what makes it both spine-tinglingly spooky and wickedly funny is the simple and original premise; a kid (Devon Sawa – Idle Hands, Casper) has a vision of a plane crash and drags a group of his classmates from the plane before it subsequently explodes. Thereafter, death picks them off one by one in more and more elaborate fashions, proving that there truly is no way to cheat the fates. It’s such a simple idea, and yet one that had beforehand remained unseen on the big screen. The villain is not some masked madman or monster from the beyond; it’s the one force in the world that no man can fight.

Of course the deaths themselves stand out as some of the most intricate and memorable in cinema history, with Amanda Detmer’s sudden demise at the business end of a bus making almost every “scariest moment” poll of the last decade.

The actors each throw themselves into the tale full pelt, with Sawa giving wonderful life to the haunted hero Alex. Sean William Scott, best known for his outlandish behaviour as American Pie’s Stiffler also delivers a much more tender performance as underachiever Billy.

In all, Final Destination is a great little horror movie, blessed with an intriguing hook, that will unfortunately be diluted for years to come by more and more sequels (I do believe FD5 is set for a 2011 release), that duly cautions us; perhaps we really should fear The Reaper…

Tarquin's TV Top Ten - TV Pigs

Oy oy saveloys, Tarkers back again for another adventure into TV past! This week, we're looking at a subject very dear to my heart; TV pigs. So join me now as we celebrate pigs of all sizes and many a genre in another trip down memory lane...

10. Huxley Pig (Huxley Pig, 1989-1990)

With his overactive imagination and cute as a button antics, Huxley and his stop-motion friends Horace the Hamster, Sydney the Snake and Vile Vernon had children throughout the eighties asking that famous question, "Who you gonna be today Huxley Pig? (Oink, Oink)".

9. Miss Piggy

(The Muppet Show, 1976-1981/Muppets Tonight, 1996-1998)

Though it may surprise some for the porcine sex symbol that is Miss Piggy to be so low down in the list, Piggy really shines out in her movie work; the stylish and sexy Benjamina Gunn in Muppet Treasure Island; the tragic Mrs. Cratchett in A Muppet Christmas Carol, and of course her beautiful self in The Muppet Movie and is sequels. With her narcissan egomania and pitch-perfect singing voice, few lady pigs will ever compare to Miss Piggy.

8. Mr. Gordo (Buffy The Vampire Slayer, 1997-2003)

Few pigs can lay claim to preventing an apocalypse, let alone the seven or eight that the golden-haired wonder woman Buffy came up against. Sure, most would rate Xander, Willow and Giles as the most invaluable of her allies, but let’s face it, what is a hero without their childhood cuddly toy? Nothing, that’s what. Fact. All hail Mr. Gordo, the world’s greatest stuffed pig.

7. Piggley Winks (Jakers!, 2003-Present)

A few years ago, I applied for a job to work as script editor on Jakers! (made by the same company as the wonderful Clifford the Big Red Dog – RIP John Ritter), but alas did not get invited for interview. I was gutted, but nonetheless, I still love this adorable show, centring around charming Irish Grandfather Piggley Winks as he tells his grandson all about his childhood days on the farm. It’s all just so darned delightful.

6. Pinky (The Good Life, 1975-1978)

Felicity and Richard were most certainly the stars of this classic “simple life” sitcom, but for me, the few episodes telling of the exploits of lady pig Pinky will always stand out; when she escapes into Margo’s garden and eats the roses (oh Penelope Keith, what a grumpy face!) and of course when she gives birth to a brood of squealing piglings. TV gold.

5. Bebop (Teenage Mutant Hero Turtles, 1987-1996)

Bumbling baddie sidekicks have always been a staple ingredient of any classic kids animation, and they certainly more inept than the porcine Bebop and his rhino companion Rocksteady. Muscular and meat-headed, Bebop and Rocksteady were The Shredder’s right hand men, but one often wondered just why an evil mastermind would keep around such a pair of dolts. Though to be fair, Shredder did work for a talking brain with arms…

4. Spanky Ham

(Drawn Together, 2004-2008)
Pigs are often associated with filth and flatulence, and none stand so true to the stereotype as animated reality show Drawn Together’s Spanky Ham. Foul-mouthed and utterly un-PC, Spanky represents the “so bad you shouldn’t laugh but can’t help it” comedy that circulates the internet on a daily basis. And boy does he do it with aplomb.

3. Cornfed Pig (Duckman, 1994-1997)

Cornfed could quite easily be the best detective this world, or indeed any other, has ever seen. Unfortunately, for reasons unknown perhaps even to himself, he finds that he is inextricably bound to the haphazard Duckman. His sardonic and often self-deprecating humour, coupled with his perpetually monotone delivery, make Cornfed one of the greatest comedy creations of the nineties.

2. Pumbaa (Timon and Pumbaa, 1995-1998)

Okay, so this one is a little bit of a cheat, but “technically”, Pumbaa can still be classed as a TV pig, since in the rather-inferior-to-the-lion-king-movies TV series Timon and Pumbaa, he was still voiced by Ernie Sabella, and thus the same pig we knew and loved in the movies. Look, I don’t have to justify it to you! Pumbaa’s freakin’ awesome; deal with it. And if you can’t well pooh to you!

1. Pigby

(Pushing Daisies, 2007-2009)

Though he only featured in the all too brief second season of the ill-fated Pushing Daisies (when will Brian Fuller catch a break???), Pigby was the true star of the show. Named after the Pie Maker’s dog; “You call a dog Digby, so why not call a pig Pigby?”, Pigby brought a shiny resonance to the show with his piggly antics. Also, seeing Kristen Chenoweth dressed as a nun hunting for truffles with a piebald pig was quite simply gold-dust. Congratulations Pigby, I shall indubitably be naming my future piglet in your honour.

Hiroshima Special

I’ve been in Japan for just over six months now, a thought quite scary considering how quickly it seems to have gone, how little of the language I have learned, and how few of the items on the “things to do in Japan” list have been ticked off. Sure, I’ve ridden the Bullet Train, been in a fair few earthquakes, I’ve eaten things that my ten year old self would have vomited at the mere sight of, and I made Bourdain’s pilgrimage to Tsukiji fish market.

But when it comes to seeing Japan, and I mean REALLY seeing Japan, I haven’t exactly gone anywhere fast. True, I exhausted Tokyo as best one can on a tight budget, little language and just six weeks, but I maintain I did pretty well there. And when it comes to rural Asia, it doesn’t come much more remote than Yanai; possibly the only town in the world not to have a Starbucks.

So, this weekend, with my trusty companion Manami in tow, I decided to venture to Hiroshima, thus finally checking this historic city off my list. With plenty to do and see, yet only one short day (made shorter by us missing the early morning train), we blazed a trail round some of the most important sites.

The A-Bomb Dome

Let’s start with the history lesson, shall we? At 8:15 on April 6th, 1945, Hiroshima was subjected to the first atomic bomb used in war in human history. The blast, occurring 600m above the city, instantly decimated everything within an area of 3km, killing thousands, and leaving many more burned and poisoned. When presented with the facts so precisely, it all somehow becomes a lot more harrowing than history lessons at school; “Hiroshima was bombed by the Americans, thus, along with Nagasaki one week later, the war was ended.”

The first site we found was the “A-Bomb Dome”, an old building that was once the governmental pride of Hiroshima that was, within seconds of the blast, an empty shell. The building was originally penned to be destroyed in the subsequent renovation of the city, but planners decided to keep it as a haunting reminder of the physical destruction caused.

Hiroshima Museum

The museum itself is pretty darn depressing, and I found myself really not wanting to be there after about ten minutes, simply through a nauseous empathy for the suffering that these people had gone through. Of course, it’s all very one-sided in its exposition (but then who isn’t when it comes to war?) but nevertheless a half hour or so spent in the museum is something that will stay with you for a long time. Strangely, the most haunting artefact for me was a collection of milk bottles that had been fused together in the blast. I don’t know why it hit me harder than anything else, but there was something just so very disturbing about something so bizarre happening to something so simple.

Hiroshima Peace Park

Surrounding the museum is Hiroshima Peace Park, a large expanse of land studded with various monuments dedicated to peace. The park itself was a large part of the city, obliterated by the blast. The overcast a drizzly weather that followed us as we entered the park only added to its maudlin aura, but the monuments were quite something nonetheless.

My favourite, upon learning the story behind it, is the Children’s Monument; a large statue of a girl with an origami swan. The tale behind it is that of a young girl (her name escapes me unfortunately) who succumbed to radiation poisoning. She had once heard a legend that if you make one thousand paper swans then you will be granted your heart’s wish. Unfortunately she died before she could complete the thousand, but she, along with all the children who were killed, are remembered here. A collection of the swans is also on show in the museum.

Jupiter Import Foods

The major drawback to living in a country so far a field is not the language barrier, it’s not the culture shock, it’s not even the ridiculous extremes of climate change. No, it’s the cravings for the taste of home. In a country that is mostly lactose intolerant, and where rice is the staple foodstuff, where a snack consists of fried octopus and crisps are apple flavoured, it goes without saying that a comfort eater such as myself gets some serious pangs more than occasionally.
So at the recommendation of fellow teacher Alex, we set off to Jupiter Import Foods, a haven for the Gaijin, and albeit small, filled with just about every foodstuff that you could ever find yourself pining for. Such was my fervour at finding taco shells and REAL CHEESE (I bough just under a kilo, and have frozen most of it to keep me stocked) that Manami was reduced to fits of giggles at my utter foreignness. I’m sure she would’ve been the same if she’d gone without squid-on-a-stick or dried sea urchin for a few months.

Kemby’s

On the subject of food, one thing I really miss is Mexican. In a country without cheese, avocados, spices… etc, etc, it goes without saying that a decent taco is nigh on impossible to find. Last week I was taken to “The Shamrock” in Hikari, and was pleasantly impressed by a most delicious plate of enchiladas. Indeed, so much so that I’m going back on Saturday, so will probably throw together a review over the weekend.

But anyway, Kemby’s of Hiroshima is kind of a Tex-Mex establishment, and it’s not bad. It’s not great, but it’s not bad. We had pretty much everything on the menu; the Caesar Salad was very good, with proper Caesar dressing which was a nice surprise. The fried mozzarella was excellent, and really did suppress my cheese withdrawal. A plate of nachos left a little to be desired though; the chips weren’t great, and though impressively cheesy (mozzarella and Monty J. if I’m not mistaken), they were rather lacking in toppings. And whoever made the Long Island Iced Tea needs a few lessons from Tom Cruise. Kudos to the Mimosa however, and even moreso for its ability to turn a young Japanese girl bright red within two sips!

The highlight, however, was the rather scrumtrulescent stack of chicken fajitas. Delightfully spiced, and with all the trimmings you would expect (save for guacamole, though that can be somewhat forgiven), it was great fun teaching a fledgling who had never even heard of fajitas how to roll the perfect wrap.

Kudos for effort; though not perfection, Kemby’s certainly does its best to give the lonely Gaijin exactly what he’s a’missin’.

Starbuck’s Sakura Steamer

To round off our trip to the big city, and to quell the last of my cravings, we sought out a Starbuck’s. Now, why the hell I didn’t have what I actually wanted (double shot cinnamon latte), I will never know, but there was just something curiously appealing about the bright pink Cherry Blossom latte. Well, there was about the picture anyways. Ten points for originality, and indeed for crow-barring ruddy Sakura into yet another thing (I’ve got a Cherry Blossom KitKat waiting for me in the fridge), but really? It tastes like an old jumper. Not impressed. Should’ve gone with the Larson.

So that about sums up my whistle-stop trip to Hiroshima. I shall be returning there next month for the Carps vs Tigers baseball game (a rather extravagant gift from one of my students), but for now, stay tuned for Tarquin’s TV Top Ten coming soon… This week, it’s TV Pigs!