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.

Summer's Here and the Time is Right...

Summer has truly arrived here in Yanai, and with it, a chorus of shrieking and shocking creatures, some of which appear to have decided that there sole mission in life should be to stop me from sleeping. Others meanwhile are just too darned adorable for words.

Ushigaeru (American Bullfrog)

These gargantuan amphibians have rapidly become the bane of my existence. The first night I heard them, I had no idea what the hell they were. I envisaged some great beast from the underworld, their cavernous croak echoing along the riverbanks like the roar of Cerberus himself. Intrepid, I grabbed my torch and, pyjama clad, discovered to my ire that the source of the ruckus was just a ruddy frog. Since then, these softball-sized buggers have kept me awake many a night with their choral cacophony.

Hien (Swallow)

The swallow is truly a delight to watch; their svelte form gliding through the skies with an unrivalled grace. This particular chap was one of a pair who decided to nest above the back door to my school, greeting me every morning with a warning attack. Eventually, their nest yielded three gorgeous little hatchlings, all of whom have since flown the coop, leaving nothing more than an empty nest. Perhaps some soup is in order.

Maimai (Groovy Snail)

This chap was just too cute. Settled on the underside of a bamboo leaf, he really was one of the prettiest snails I’ve come across. I must say, surprisingly, considering the current raininess, I’ve seen very few molluscs. The occasional slug crops up, but I do believe this is one of the only snails I’ve actually come across.

Inoshishi (Eurasian Wild Boar)

I’ve been desperate to find a wild pig since I got here. It’s a dangerous adventure, what with their fiery temperament and lethal tusks, and as such I have taken the coward’s route and avoided venturing into the woods at night. So it was with a real air of melancholy that I witnessed this unfortunate youngster floating downstream a few days ago. Maybe 50cm from nose to tail, it could only have been a few weeks old. On the plus side, I now know that they’re definitely out there.

Kusagame (Reeve’s Pond Turtle)

Turtles are one of my favourite beasties round these parts. Every time I see one, I find myself grinning like a Cheshire Cat. Usually, however, it’s just the ninja terrapins that come to say hello, so I was delighted to meet this little cutie. Smaller than his infamous cousin, and with a curious black face, I was most pleased to be graced with his greeting.

Tombo (Dragonfly)

Dragonflies here are bloody huge. Every size and colour is buzzing about right now, and this particular one decided the best place to be picking up a mosquito buffet would be my bedroom. A biscuit tin trap soon saw him on his way though. He did however spend the rest of the evening glaring menacingly at me from the other side of the screen door.

Kumo (Spiders)

With the heat comes mosquitoes, and with the mosquitoes come spiders, feasting merrily on anything that should be foolish enough to stumble into their webs. This fellow (not actually white; that’s just the flash…) decided that my window would be the best place to set his trap. I must say, since he moved in, there’s been a lot less midges invading the flat. Hazah!

Aogaeru (Green Tree Frog)

This little beauty was sat, rather inconveniently, on the handle of my front door when I returned home last night. About the size of a squash ball, he was relishing in the evening’s offerings of flying delicacies. Utterly tame, he allowed me to snap away for a good fifteen minutes, completely nonchalant to my obvious delight at his presence.

Five Star Accommodations

Hotel Babylon
(Imogen Edwards-Jones and Anonymous, 2004)

5 Stars

I don’t often get the chance to stay in luxury hotels; I simply don’t have the cash. Honestly, when it comes to nights away, I usually find myself in somewhat grotty establishments, which, in Japan at least, means showers one cannot move in, an abundance of advertising for the bizarrely pixelated adult entertainments, and a distinct lack of cat-swinging space. And then of course there’s the capsules…

Last week, however, Manami and I were fortunate enough to find ourselves in the delightfully plush Sun Route Hotel just outside of the Tokyo Disney Resort. Clean, comfortable, and with one of the biggest baths I have come across in these parts of the world, the Sun Route was a wonderful respite from Japanese LeoPalace life.

But behind the luxury, there’s always the dark and degenerate underworld. The world that few of the punters ever get to see. Of course, having worked in what relished in calling itself a “four star hotel”, I have had some experience in the behind the scenes going on of this sector of the service industry.

In her shocking exposé of life in the hotel underbelly, Imogen Edwards-Jones introduces us to the fictional Hotel Babylon and its collection of rag-tag employees. With over ten years of bizarre anecdotes compressed into a twenty-four hour narrative, Hotel Babylon recounts a day in the life of head receptionist Charlie Edwards (played with effervescent charm by Max Beesley in the TV adaptation of the same name).

Juxtaposing within her ever-engaging tale the decadence of the hotel’s guests with the seedy, sneaking, yet somehow endearing staff, Edwards-Jones not only relishes in exposing the grim underbelly of hoteliering, but also manages to weave an addicting and intoxicating tale, filled with memorable characters and even more memorable revelations of the secret lives of the rich and the randy.

Hotel Babylon is a must read, not only for those in the industry, but also for anyone who’s ever stayed in a hotel, or indeed contemplating staying in one… A truly classic eye-opener.

Nom Nom Nom (Part One)

So, a few weeks ago, I made a big fat order from my new favourite website, http://www.napajapan.com/ a place where one can find all of those elusive KitKats that hide in the more secretive coves of this sultry collection of islands known as Japan.

I haven’t tried all of my purchases yet, but this is the first batch… Some are amazing, and some, quite frankly, are bloody horrible!

Ginger Ale KitKat – 3.5 Fingers

I actually had one of these before Christmas, and fell a little in love with it. Certainly one of the stranger of ideas for a chocolate bar, but it’s one that really does work. But then, why wouldn’t it? Ginger and chocolate is one of those magic combinations that really make my taste buds smile. An excellent little venture.

Milk Coffee KitKat – 4 Fingers

A true gem here; from the moment you unwrap, your olfactory passages are infiltrated with the sweet coffee aroma, and from first bite, the intense flavour excites the palate like few bars ever had. Most definitely one of my all-time favourites.

Sparkling Strawberry KitKat – 1.5 Fingers

Nestle seem keen to push the strawberry flavours… I think this is maybe the fourth or fifth type I’ve had now, and I must say I’m getting a little bored of them. This one however, is not your typical berry blast, but instead a “sparkling” variety, which tastes like one of those awful gummi strawberries you get at the cinema pick-and-mix. Not the Haribo ones, the really awful cheap ones. Not good Mr. N. Not good at all.

Vegetable Juice KitKat – 0 Fingers

Imagine if you will a juice (and indeed one that is massively popular in JapanLand) made of carrots and apples. Lovely, eh? Now imagine a KitKat that encapsulates that flavour.
This is the first KitKat I’ve ever had that I actually couldn’t finish. And alas I have another in the fridge.

Coming soon… Banana, Melon and Buttered Corn flavours, and whatever else they decide to throw at me along the way.

Everybody Walk The Dinosaur

Anonymous Rex

(2004)

2 Stars

So, I just finished the book, and figured that I may as well give the TV version a go.

I must say, there have been few Sci-Fi Channel TV movies that have really impressed me; Tin Man, the gothic Wizard of Oz was painfully bad to watch, whilst their recent attempt at Alice was only watchable for Andrew Lee Potts’ delightful portrayal of the Mad Hatter.

Thus, it was with some trepidation that I approached their 2004 production of Eric Garcia’s Anonymous Rex, which, if you didn’t catch my review of the book earlier this week, is basically detective noir meets Jurassic Park, and really bloody good fun.

Unfortunately, despite Garcia working as executive producer on the project, the final result has little of the books ubiquitous charm. Indeed it feels like the only things that have stuck are the main character’s name , and the concept of dinosaurs living among us.

Vincent Rubio (played with an eminent dullness by Sam Trammell) is no longer the degenerate herb-addicted private investigator mourning the death of his partner, but instead a suave and witty detective whose partner Ernie (Daniel Baldwin), still alive here, is actually a much more interesting and engaging character.

The twist and turn plot of the book is utterly scrapped, making way for a daft plan for world domination by dino extremists, and a bizarre dinosaur council, governed over by Isaac Hayes, who seem to spent their entire time playing mah-jong and giving crypticisms about “chance”. It’s just a little silly, and not in the good way.

On the plus side, there are some half decent CGI sequences, and the holographic guises, rather than the rubber ones of the book, are a little more believable (I did spend a lot of the book trying to figure out exactly how a dinosaur would fit into a rubber man suit), and the sub-plot involving Ernie’s human daughter is pretty fun.

There’s a lesson to be learned about adaptation which so few writers seem to heed; if something works, don’t fuck about with it! There’s a reason it works, so go with it! Anonymous Rex could have made a great TV show. Unfortunately, the pilot was so pants, it crashed and burned like a certain meteorite in the Gulf of Mexico.

Still Believing

Glee

Journey to Regionals

3.5 Stars

Complacency is a tragedy, no matter what walk of life you take. However, it is none-so-more a sad sight as when a previously outstanding TV show realises its own popularity and thus turns to sloppy writing and big name stars. Need I mention Friends?

As such, after the triumphant first demi-season of critical and audience success Glee, I was somewhat down-heartened to find that the long awaited “second half” lacked the raw innocence of its predecessor.

Glee; a musical comedy drama that, in part, capitalises on the success of that delightful phenomenon (doot doo da doo doo) High School Musical, first hit screens in AmericaLand last fall, tentatively stepping out to bring to the screen something that, though we had all seen before many a times, we had never come across as a serialised television show. The constant fear of cancellation of such a big budget show meant that writing was sharp, stories were driven, and the music itself simply complimented what was going on in the show.

But then seasons two and three were commissioned, and a sense of self-satisfied smugness began to emanate on a weekly basis. No longer were we presented with a smartly interweaving story arc driven by the occasional bit of musical jollity, but instead we have an episodic series that appears to work its way solely around whatever songs the writers fancy throwing in. As such, the season finale feels, quite frankly, like it could sit happily after episode 11, three months back; nothing (barring the appearance of Rachel’s mother, and the relationship between Finn’s mather and Kurt’s father) has really happened, and when trying to create emotional moments, we have to remember back to when there actually was a story to understand what is going on.

Add to this vastly underused big-name cameos; Neil Patrick Harris and Idina Menzel to name but two, and even a guest direction slot from televisual god Joss Whedon, and it really does feel like we’re trying too hard without actually trying at all.

That said, there has been a lot a good stuff this half-season; most notably the building of the relationship between young Kurt (Chris Colfer) and his father Burt (played with such rugged elegance by Mike O’Malley) has been a tearful joy to watch, and the hate-hate relationship between fluffy Mr Schuester (Matthew Morrison) and acid-faced Coach Sylvester (Jane Lynch) is always riveting. The season finale also, admittedly, had me in floods of tears as soon as the young folk started belting out their re-vamped rendition of Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing”. But maybe that’s just because it always reminds me of a few chaps back home… I don’t know.

The music too, has, for the most part, been superior to the first half. If not simply because they’ve realised that the music is the source of the show’s power to the vast majority of pre-adolescent teens who will undoubtedly have been buying the abundance of albums and EPs by the truckload. I foresee next season releasing an extended play for every episode. Money money money.

I truly hope the creators of Glee pull their socks up next season, and remember just why we fell in love with the show in the first place. Bring back the stories; bring back the passion, and please, Don’t Stop Believing!

Wingapo

Avatar
(James Cameron, 2009)

2.5 Stars

I’ve never really been one for the popular movies I know, and as such, when it came to the multi-Oscar-winning blockbuster to defeat all blockbusters that was Jimmy C’s Avatar, I decided my best course of action was to sit back and wait for the wave to subside, then watch it without everyone else bombarding me with their questions as to why I would inevitably find fault in it.

So I’ll be nice and start with the good points.

Avatar looks pretty good. I don’t think it’s as outstanding as many have said, but it looks good. And Michelle Rodriguez is in it.

And now to the “however”s.

Cameron’s script is not only a blatant rip-off of Disney’s version of Pocahontas; white man amidst natives, relationship therein, war, talking trees, crazy raccoon sidekick (okay, maybe the last wasn’t there, but wouldn’t it have been such a better film if it had??), but it is also entirely dull and overly drawn out. Sure, make your film look impressive, but give us some damned substance. Every “plot twist” was predictable, and I don’t think there’s actually a single story point after the first act that I didn’t predict a good ten minutes before it happened.

To add to the dreariness, there was not a single character I found myself caring about, and the only somewhat interesting chaps amongst the ensemble were Sigourney Weaver’s Ripley re-hash, and Michelle Rodriguez’s sexy pilot lady. The rest of the cast were so entirely uninteresting that I could’ve farted them out in my sleep.

This was apparently Cameron’s “dream project”; an idea he had as a child. And that’s pretty clear to me to be honest; a three hour long vanity project that could easily have been written by a twelve year old.

Well done mate, you got the Oscars. But did you deserve them? Let’s see who really remembers this in twenty years’ time.

When Dinosaurs Ruled The Earth...

Anonymous Rex
(Eric Garcia, 2000)

4 Stars

Some people go for Agatha Christie, others Ian McEwen, whilst some go for the traditional delights of Mr. Conan Doyle. For me though, a good detective yarn has got to be a little bit out of the ordinary. Actually, scrap that, it’s got to be as gosh-darned out there as it can get.

In the mood for some Jasper Fforde, and yet not fancying a re-read (or indeed his new book, simply because he somehow stole the name I had penned for my first album), I did a little research into Amazon’s “people who bought this bought…” and stumbled across the afore-to unheard of Mr. Eric Garcia, the young American author of the dinosaur detective drama Anonymous Rex.

Set in the modern world, where dinosaurs are still living secretly among us, taking on human guises and going about their business just like everyone else, the story follows the exploits of down and out veloceraptor PI Vincent Rubio as he struggles to pick up the pieces after the mysterious death of his carnotaur partner Ernie Watson.

When a night club owner (who just happens to be a veloceraptor) is killed under suspicious circumstances, Rubio finds himself embroiled in an underground world of murder, betrayal, herb-abuse and, as the author himself puts it, “the best interspecies sex ever”.

Anonymous Rex is not only a wonderful piece of fantasy writing, but it is also a truly gripping detective novel, keeping the reader on their toes at all times, piecing together a truly ingenious plot with twists and turns that few can rival. In Rubio, despite his reptilian heart, Garcia has created a perfectly human soul, for whom we empathise and connect with. Kudos to you, sir.

The moral of the story? Everybody’s hiding something; just hope it isn’t a tail.