2011 can be considered a good year in film, if you take a view that makes a few glaring omissions. While Hollywood stumbles on with its incessant remakes, reboots, re-imaginings, sequels, prequels, threequels and adaptations vibrant and vital filmmaking continues to come from other avenues.

BY MATTHEW MCKERNAN

While the extremely successful Harry Potter franchise ended in July and November saw the beginning of the end of The Twilight Saga, Hollywood looks like it might be losing its key tent pole films. Though a brief scan of the film’s due for a 2012 release makes it clear that the blockbuster format has not yet been exhausted.

Yet there was some indication of blockbuster fatigue in the UK box office. Palme D’Or winner The Tree of Life managed to hold a place in the Top 10 for three weeks, despite competition from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part Two and Transformers: Dark of the Moon. Being a rather difficult art film and certainly a hard sell, despite the presence of Brad Pitt, the film’s success at the box office was telling.

Similarly, The Guard did good business, retaining a place in the UK box office for five weeks despite only being released in Northern Ireland. A hit domestically, the film also travelled well with good reviews across the UK and the US. A good sign for a domestic Irish cinema and proof that there is an international market for homegrown cinema.

2011 saw yet another comeback for Woody Allen with Midnight in Paris. Neither the critics nor the box office takings have been kind to Woody Allen recently, despite his work being of a fairly consistent quality since the Seventies. Midnight in Paris has proven to be a success with the critics and became Woody Allen’s high-grossing film so far.

It was an interesting year in censorship. Following on from last year’s Last House on the Left remake, this year saw the release of yet another remake of a Video Nasty. This time it was I Spit On Your Grave. For those who don’t know, the Video Nasties were a collection of 60 horror and thriller films banned seemingly at random by the BBFC due to pressure from an outraged tabloid press. While the original I Spit On Your Grave was banned outright, the remake was passed with cuts made, while the similar Straw Dogs remake was passed uncut. On top of this, the notorious Cannibal Holocaust was given a wide DVD re-release with many of the cut sequences reinstated. It seemed as if censorship guidelines had slipped until the arrival of The Human Centipede II: Full Sequence, which was banned outright by the BBFC. It was eventually released cut by two and a half minutes. This banning was a controversial reminder that films still can go too far.

Sadly, 2011 also saw the deaths of many significant people from the older generations of cinema. Amongst them were Elizabeth Taylor, Edward Hardwicke, Ken Russell, Sidney Lumet, Anna Massey, Peter Falk, John Neville, Michael Gough, Jane Russell, Maria Schneider, John Barry, Susannah York, Peter Yates and Pete Postlewaith.

BY JIRHE OKUGHENI

To summarise the plot (warning: spoilers aplenty), some bloodthirsty idiot called Hyperion (played by Mickey Rourke) and his army are killing innocents across Greece, just because they can. They’re trying to search for a Bow which’ll mean Hyperion will overthrow the Gods and therefore rule the world. Okay so far so good. They continue destroying stuff, until they reach a village were a man called Theseus gets pissed because his mother was killed at the hands of Hyperion, in a rather anticlimactic fashion. This is after some soldier (who never really gets much focus) decides to betray the village army due to numerous anger management issues. Obviously after the death of his mother Theseus goes out of his way to avenge her.

Meanwhile Hyperion tries to and eventually these semi- naked women who are led by the Oracle. The Oracle can see visions because of her ‘purity’ Hyperion wants here to find the Bow. Okay, so this is when things start to get really weird and stupid and this will be quite brief.

Somehow Theseus is captured, but both, the Oracle and some random Scottish sounding guy escape at the expense of the Oracle’ female support group. Then a lot of random stuff happens, the Oracle sleeps with Thesus, because she wants to be ‘normal’ or some crap like that. Spitting in the face of the sacrifices her women helpers made. After this, the Oracle is pretty useless and is just there for show. She doesn’t even find the Bow. Theseus ‘stumbles’ across it in some cave accidently, and thus rendering the first half of the movie absolutely pointless. Unfortunately, he loses the bow to Hyperion, who then proceeds to unleash some weird monsters who the Gods (i.e. Zeus) could have killed, but decided to lock in a big box for no apparent reason. The Gods then aid Theasus in fighting these beasts, while Theasus fights Hyperion and his sidekick fights a horde of Hyperion army. One landslide later they win. The End.

If you like pointless action with no real substance or story, give Immortal a shot. Everyone else stay very much away.

Noticing the increase of leopard prints and spandex around the Ulster Hall on 4 December you’d have been forgiven for thinking that the Louie Spence fan club had rolled into town. Hair spray, eye liner and tight pants were in abundance. And then there was the girls. But no, Brit glam-rockers The Darkness were here for the final date of their UK reunion tour, the “Every Inch of UK (and Ireland) Tour.”

BY CONOR KERR

Supporting them were our very own Million $ Reload. Playing songs from critically acclaimed debut “Anthems of a Degeneration,” the band came out swinging and even threatened to cast their own shadow over the headliners following them. The sound engineer had given them a great sound which helped their cause, but it was the force of the music and their presence on stage which made it all the more exciting to watch them. Lead singer Phil’s voice filled the venue and I can only give him the greatest compliment I can, and compare him to the late, great Bon Scott. The band itself had a swagger and sound reminiscent of Mötley Crüe or Guns N’ Roses as a listen to songs like “Living In The City” or “Tattoos and Dirty Girls” will surely show. This band should be huge and we’ll hopefully see them headlining their own show at the Ulster Hall sometime in the future.

But as the dust settled from that set, it was time for the newly reformed, kings of glam-rock. Opening their set with album opener “Black Shuck,” we were in for a treat. The band seemed re-energised with the line-up back to its original form. The hits followed one after another, going straight into “Growing On Me” and “One Way Ticket, before reaching the compulsory ballads in the middle of the set, first with lead singer Justin Hawkins performing “Holding My Own” solo on acoustic guitar, and then “Love is Only A Feeling.” In the midst of this we are treated to two costume changes from Justin, as he emerges in some tight one-piece catsuits that Freddie Mercury would have been proud of. There is a bit of a sing along, and a “Who’s the loudest” competition as Hawkins tells of how loud the Dublin and Cork audiences were, the very mention of which received some well-meant boos. The more upbeat sing-along tunes followed with “Friday Night,” “Is It Just Me” and the insanely catchy “Givin’ Up” before ending the first part of the set with a pleasant surprise performance of arguably the best Christmas song EVER, “Christmas Time (Don’t Let The Bells End).” Coupled with the fact it had begun to snow earlier in the evening, it was the perfect setting to hear that song. The encore began, initially some Olé Olé’s from the crowd, (and a new catsuit) with jam-piece “Bareback”, which then moved swiftly on to mega-hit “I Believe In A Thing Called Love” which really got the crowd moving and the ground shaking. The gig ended with seriously rocking slab of hard rock in the form of “Love On The Rocks With No Ice,” including a highlight of the show – Hawkins riding the shoulders of a bouncer/roadie through the middle of the crowd playing a guitar solo.

Overall it was a return to form for a refreshed line up. They seem to, or at least try, to give off a more serious vibe, but the catsuits, the handstands, and of course the music mean that nothing is ever taken too seriously. The band play together as tightly as ever and Hawkins has lost none of his infamous vocal range. Our ears ringing, voices strained from attempting far too many high notes, it was more than worth it. The Ulster Hall hasn’t rocked that hard for a long time, and with a promise from Hawkins of more shows in the future, we’ll do it all over again.

One Direction’s Up All Night is the best comedy album of 2011, hands down. It is full of wonderful irony, word-play and satire. For a start, the band name is clearly a pun on ‘One Dimension’, which is exactly how many dimensions there are to their music. Clever boys.

BY PETER MCLOUGHLIN

 
The album title is obviously ironically referring to how long they’ll be keeping the ladies up; even though from the look of the album cover the only thing keeping the boys up all night is re-runs of America’s Next Top Model and Justin Bieber documentaries – but that’s just another facet of the hilarious mocku-musical image these young comedians are aiming for.

 
The satire really comes to the fore once you hit play, and they, with some skill, produce songs which sound like the stolen demos of real people, like: Moby, Maroon 5, Taio Cruz, LMFAO, Adele, Lady GaGa. They subtly but hilariously name-drop Katy Perry in one song, where they imply that because Katy Perry is ‘on replay’, the “DJ got the floor to shake”! Classic lampoon – and not only that, they try to sing the words ‘to shake’ so that they rhyme with ‘replay’, which they just plainly do not, but it’s witty nonetheless. They also sound similar to Bruno Mars, LilWayne, and, of course, their idolised real-life singular counter-part, Justin Bieber; tit that he is. I’m sure there are many other artists that they shamelessly rip off on that list, but I have only listened to the album a handful of times, and what is evident already is that I have only scratched the surface of this multi-layered, deep and intelligent record.

 
And that’s the ultimate point; this is a record that benefits from repeated listening. What at first sounds like poor attempts at latching onto the most used sounds currently pervading the popular music scene is really a masterful piss take, and though within thirty seconds of the opening track you may be laughing, it is not until the fifth listen or so that the humour in the piece as a whole becomes clear. Best of all is the verse in the afore-mentioned Katy Perry referencing song, sung by a boy who gave himself the wonderfully stupid pseudonym ‘Zayn’, which goes like this: “Don’t even care about the table breaking/ We only wanna have a laugh/I’m only thinking ’bout this girl I’m seeing/ I hope she’ll wanna kiss me back”. The contradiction to this verse compared to the young boys making a ‘mess’ of a girls ‘innocence’ is striking, and this is their best attempt at replicating the often twee, normally simply stupid things that most pop stars sing about, and it works a treat; when you hear them sing that, you will cringe awfully.

 
One more point worth noting is that though there are five boys, there is only one actual vocal pitch, and whoever owns the voice has pitched it perfectly to sound like a robot going through an auto-tuning device set at ‘pre-pubescent whine’. It can only be assumed then, that the rest of the boys are there as part of the wider creative process.

 
I only hope they don’t gain too much popularity on the release of this album, to the point of them actually touring or some such thing, because if this kind of stuff is played to young school girls, it could easily corrupt them, much like Westlife did in the ’90s, and this One Dimensional band might be taken seriously.

The fifth annual OUTBURST Queer Arts Festival was hosted in Belfast this year, from November 11- 20. This is Belfast’s celebration of all the goodness in local and international lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender Arts and Culture.

BY PRIYA BIRING

OUTBURST Queer Arts Festival is a Registered Charity and not-for-profit initiative, dedicated to exploring and celebrating LGBT stories and experiences through the Arts in Northern Ireland. “Our programme aims to support, encourage and inspire local LGBT creativity, in addition to bringing the best in international Queer Arts to the city of Belfast.” In a recent interview, Ruth McCarthy, director of OUTBURST Queer Arts Festival stated that the word Queer was used because they felt the word gay was an overused term fixed onto a lot of events, implying that everything is to do with sexuality.

The festival was bursting with new and exciting events and this year OUTBURST gained funding from the Northern Ireland Arts Council. The festival is getting bigger every year and now with more funding it can only become bigger and better. The ten days of the festival were filled with theatre, film, music, literature, visual art, discussion and debate from both local and international LGBT artists and performers.

Highlights included; The London Gay Men’s Chorus Little Shop of Homos, Joe Mercer’s dance–theatre piece Cruising, Shopping, F*cking, The Transgender community storytelling at the Black Box, a Retro lesbian poker tournament held on the Lagan barge and to end the festival, a comedic play called The Year of Magical Wanking, performed at the Lyric Theatre.

The Year of Magical Wanking was a one man show, written and performed by Neil Watkins. Watkins plays a 33-year-old with an age-appropriate messiah complex. He’s also Irish, gay and masturbates more than is good for him. But as any Irish male who’s survived a Catholic upbringing will testify: “once is too much, but a thousand times is never enough.”

Great strides in gay rights may have been made inNorthern Irelandof late, with civil partnerships and the Pride march, which is now only raising some convulsion of public bigotry. However, issues still remain and with Northern Ireland supposedly being set back fifty years economically and industrially, so too are many ingrained cultural and social values. Thinking optimistically, we can hope that Northern Ireland is moving forward and events like the Queer Arts Festival can begin to dispel certain stereotypes of religion versus homosexuality.

Remember back in the day when CDs were a new concept and cassette tapes were not classed as museum artefacts? Remember the general excitement surrounding the release of a new edition to the ‘Now’ series?

BY RACHAEL O’REILLY

The 80th edition of the Now That’s What I Call Music! series arrived with more of a fizzle than a bang. It seems that in the era of ‘Spotify’, ‘YouTube’ and even, to a lesser extent, ‘iTunes’, though it’s not free and therefore less appealing to impoverished students, this compilation is becoming less and less current with each release.

Admittedly, the track listing is not bad, filled with pop tunes like ‘Moves Like Jagger’ by Maroon 5 featuring Christina Aguilera and ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ by One Direction with the occasional dance number thrown into the mix (including the Freshers’ Week 2011 anthem that was ‘Loca People’ by Sak Noel!) and several R&B hits like ‘Got 2 Luv U’ by Sean Paul.

The problem is not necessarily in the CD itself but in the current fast pace of the music industry today. Most of the ‘top hits’ on Now 80 are already a fading memory after being listened to on a loop via radio, the internet or even in the Union on Monday night. It doesn’t seem like good value to buy this CD (or the MP3 download) when the artists already have new singles out.

Overall, Now That’s What I Call Music! 80 is a good attempt at compiling all the big hits from the past four months; just don’t depend on it to keep your music library up to date.

Dan Gordon wrote and starred in The Boat Factory, a moving play about workers in the shipyards in East Belfast. Michael Condron delivered a fantastic array of accents, and the chemistry between the two actors was fizzing. A play  starring only two people can get slightly dull and drag, but The Boat Factory was fast-paced, funny, and left you knowing an awful lot more about Belfast’s history.

BY EMMA GALLEN

The play was part of Belfast Festival and has been promoted by the Ulster Scots Agency.

This is perhaps why it was allowed to be performed in The Barnett Room in Belfast Harbour Office. The building itself was worth going to see; it was like a mini-museum with all the paintings and statues, and as it is usually closed to the public, it made the ticket price seem even smaller.

The play started as a way of educating Key Stage Two primary school children, but this isn’t a child’s play. With complicated relationships and the examples of corruption throughout the shipyard, the play has been reworked for an adult audience.

Gordon’s character is based on his father and this really adds to the emotional drama of the play. When he tells anecdotes of what it was like for his dad, there is genuine warmth and affection shown, and more than one tissue was needed.

A new exhibition at the Ulster Museum shows Queen Elizabeth II in a series of portraits.  This display is to mark her Diamond Jubilee as the Queen of England on the throne.  In collaboration with the National Portrait Gallery, the touring collection is an eclectic mix that ranges from rare, intimate photographs to world famous art pieces. 

BY LAURA SHEARER

What seems like a small gallery space is thronged with images, bold and minimalist, powerful and delighting. Divided into sections of her reign, starting in the 1950s and ranging to the present day, each portrait offers a stunning and often very personal interpretation of the famous lady.

In photography, the formality of her life is met with jarringly simple posed family group shots.  Shining examples of rare photos include the unseen moments caught on camera as she takes shelter from the rain, unknown to the public on the balcony above her.

Full of heart are the interpretations of her iconic image, from the set of four Warhol prints to the poster art of the Sex Pistols album cover God Save the Queen.  Modern masterpieces featured incorporate an odd 3D image that watches you walk by, a multi-media figure bust and the oil on canvas image made up of hundreds of miniature portraits of Princess Diana.  Humility is explored with delicate painting skills, and where new media art offers styles that will divide opinions, rest assured there is something to suit every palate.

These images are familiar all over the world, but are presented in a way that is original and extremely pleasurable. The young at heart meet with the old to marvel at the presence of an iconic woman.  This is not an appreciation of her achievements, nor does any political diversion arrest the vision; this is the life of a queen through images.

The Queen: Art & Image is free and on show to the public in the Ulster Museum until 15 January 2012.

The Red Hot Chilli Peppers scorched the O2 Arena with a fiery set-list that included a few tunes off their new album, I’m With You, as well as some old school favourites. On  4 November, Dublin was treated to a top-notch performance from Anthony Keidis, Flea, Chad Smith and new guitarist Josh Klinghoffer, who were opened by up-and-coming Californian collective Fool’s Gold. As an opening act they delivered a strong performance of neo-African-rhythmic-pop-rock that left the crowd grooving and ready for seduction from Flea’s funkilicious bass. 

BY MATTHEW GILLEN

The arena dimmed and then exploded into an array of coloured lights as the Chilli’s unleashed new tune ‘Monarchy of Roses’. 14,500 people jumped and cheered at such an adrenaline pumping start, which seamlessly transitioned into ‘Dani California’. To pinpoint a single definitive moment of the night wouldn’t do justice to the concert or the band. There were so many highlights ranging from the music, the audience and the venue itself. The visual displays were stunning as the light show moved in perfect sync with the tempo and tone of the songs. This was accompanied by an impressive wall of rotating screens broadcasting an entertaining montage of the band playing, the crowd, pre-recorded clips and mugshots of fans.

The Chilli’s followed a new/old formula including; ‘Look Around’/ ‘Scar Tissue’ and ‘Factory of Faith’/ ‘Under the Bridge’. Towards the end of the night the newer songs became rarer as they belted out classics such as ‘Californication’ and ‘By the Way’. During a short break for Anthony’s vocal cords, Chad began a thumping drum solo with Flea and Klinghoffer gradually joining in to do an instrumental cover of U2’s ‘Sunday Bloody Sunday’.  It was pleasing to see such great chemistry between the band members, including Klinghoffer who is evidently warming up nicely to his new friends, as he comfortably stood facing Flea while they jammed with one another.

Much to everyone’s delight, the set ended with ‘Give It Away’. It’s safe to say that this gig wasn’t just a ploy to promote new material. It was a genuinely entertaining night and as the lights illuminated the arena, the band walked off stage, while Chad, wearing the Tricolour, threw his drumsticks into the audience.

Given that the first official gig of Belfast Music Week fell on Halloween, the abundance of superheroes, witches and tiger onesies was assumed. The first band of the night, Colly Strings, unsuccessfully attempted to emulate the gothic cool of A Clockwork Orange’s Alex DeLarge. Instead, they resembled a quartet of immaculately turned out butlers. Dubious costume choices aside, the band won over the crowd with a splendid set, but still paled in comparison to the next twenty minutes from Rainy Boy Sleep.

BY TARA MCEVOY

The solo artist from Derry was doubtlessly the revelation of the evening, a troubadour for our times whose poignant tales of shopping centres to detentions came alive, aided by a simple loop pedal backing. Straddling the divide between Owen Pallett and Ed Sheeran, and reviving the concept of geek chic while he’s at it, Rainy Boy Sleep marks himself as a prospect to keep your eye on. Unfortunately, things from here on in took a turn for the worst, as the next band to take to the stage, Silhouette, offered a lacklustre performance. Those hoping surprise guests General Fiasco would provide a reprieve were also disappointed, as the Bellaghy four piece only had enough time to power through three (albeit rollicking) tunes, finishing up with the anthemic ‘Ever So Shy’.

Closing the night were A Plastic Rose, a group whose brand of in-your-face raucousness wasn’t to everyone’s taste.  Vocalist Ian McHugh bounced on stage  dressed as everybody’s favourite fried chicken vendor, Colonel Sanders, and their guitarist sported a mask of Marvin from JLS’ face. It was all a bit too Tenacious D to be taken seriously and a bit too uninventive to be considered funny. Suffocating under a maelstrom of guitars, A Plastic Rose left the stage, drawing to a close what had certainly been, to use an old sporting cliché, a night of two halves.

The MTV EMAs were incredible. Whether you liked the music, layout or even the show itself, it’s obvious there was a lot of effort to make Belfast look as great as possible.  But what would the average tourist be met with, stumbling into some bar offering live music? Well, if it’s anything like the music  heard at Belfast Calling, there would be no doubt that they would be blown away.

BY LEE BRADY 

The night before the EMAs, The Limelight Complex opened their doors and hosted Belfast Calling, a showcase of Northern Irish talent. With over thirty bands crammed into the night over the three interlinked bars, one would expect disaster with timing. Luckily, each bar had multiple stages that allowed one band to set up while another continued playing. Once their time was up, the band on the other stage would start playing and the audience’s attention would simply be grabbed again. Not once did this seem tiring or chore-like.  So, if there was any one performer who didn’t suit your tastes, you could move along.

Each act represented the very best of what we had to offer. A big task, with the impending EMAs, but the diversity and talent of each performance made a big impression. A renewed sense of passion was felt for our own music scene, rekindled by acts such as Intermission, Colly Springs, Ram’s Pocket Radio, Katie & The Carnival and Aaron Shanley to name a few. From acoustic solo artists, to rock bands, to metal bands, to upbeat folk and pop, there was something for everyone. The talent on offer was exceptional.

Overall, it was an inspiring night for our music scene. Here’s hoping for a repeat.

Conducting a little experiment in the run-up to the MTV EMAs in Belfast, I asked five people if they were aware it was Belfast Music Week – not the greatest survey in the world, but the results may still be relevant nonetheless. Of the five, only one had actually heard of the event. The remaining four gave responses ranging from, “Well, that’s not very original,” to an enthusiastic, “Well, that’s good! Maybe some good bands will play.”

BY LEE BRADY

For the uninformed, the week starting 30 October marked the beginning of Belfast Music Week,  which coincided with the impending MTV award ceremony. There was a series of gigs, which showcased Northern Ireland’s home-grown talent.  Brochures and schedules were posted all over the city, banners were hung, posters were placed; and yet, apparently, only one in five had heard of the event – if we are to take a straw poll as fact.

This raises a question: were the gigs not publicised enough? Perhaps greater effort was required on behalf of radio and television? Cool FM, the official EMA radio station, only occasionally admitted to the existence of the event, preferring to draw more attention towards the already all-consuming EMAs. According to the press release, over 170 events occurred during the week, so more attention could have been raised. Perhaps there just isn’t any great appeal in the Belfast music scene these days except among a dedicated few.

Belfast Music Week did not receive the recognition it deserved. If Belfast is to re-establish itself as a significant musical landmark, attention to music will need to evolve beyond a single week and remain a consistent part of what makes Belfast a great place to see.

Portstewart three piece, Axis Of were described in 2010 by ‘Rock Sound Magazine’ as being “the most exciting band to come out of Northern Ireland, possibly ever.”  No wonder the Speakeasy was rammed with raucous, die-hard fans before they played.

BY PRIYA BIRING

When the band first formed in 2008 their sound and brand of music was very different to their current style.  Axis Of were very fast and punky, writing songs about the environment. Their first album, The Echo Conspiracy, was down tempo, even sludgy in places. Ewen Friers, bass and vocals, stated that their influences and song writing techniques had changed vastly. The genre of music they listen to had also changed, they are inspired by different bands now, ranging from the heavy metal thrashes of Mastodon to the indie rock of Fang Island. They are no longer just influenced by sludgy modes of music; in some sense they have evolved to embrace a whole host of bands.

With a different taste in music comes a new style of song writing. With old influences including the unique lyrics from bands such as The Locust: “get off the cross we need the wood”; new versions of song writing have become simpler. Friers said: “We work from the ground up. We try to incorporate simplicities with a really heavy guitar underneath them.”

Although Axis Of weren’t nominated for a Northern Irish Music Award (NIMA) they were not in the least bit disillusioned or scathed by the choice. Supporting a lot of bands from Northern Ireland, including some at the NIMAs, they stated that LaFaro, Visceral Attack, Gascan Ruckus, The Hornets, And So I Watch You From Afar and Team Fresh were all great bands that they supported and enjoyed listening to. Axis Of even said that bands that have become internationally famous, such as Two Door Cinema Club and General Fiasco, were beacons of success to enjoy and encourage. In fact they insisted that there was no-one they did not support on the Northern Irish music scene.

Axis Of have had great touring success. Unconventionally, they claimed their favourite place to gig was in the Alps. “The people were just great,” said Friers. “It’s such a beautiful setting, it was inspiring.” Of course, they still found the North Coast and the South to be some of the most rewarding places to gig. Rock Sound Magazine were not wrong about this band, they are definitely a force to be reckoned with.

The hype had been building for weeks in the lead up to the biggest event that Belfast has ever hosted; the MTV EMAs.  A special show featuring Snow Patrol, Jason Derulo and Boyce Avenue outside City Hall took place at the same time as the award ceremony hosted in the Odyssey.

BY CONOR KERR

The event began with a one song set from Cork band The Voodoos which was warmly received by the quickly growing crowd in front of them.  Soon after, American R&B star Jason Derulo took to the stage. This was Derulo’s first performance in Belfast, and was one of the most hotly anticipated performances of the evening.  He didn’t disappoint, performing a sleek, well performed set, belting out hits such as ‘Whatcha Say’ and ‘Ridin’ Solo,’ accompanied by fantastic dance routines, throwing in a handstand, splits, and a front flip for good measure.

Next were American acoustic rock band Boyce Avenue, receiving a great cheer of approval as they took to the stage. Probably more commonly known for their unique cover songs, the band played an excellent set. While they played one or two original compositions, their covers of Adele’s ‘Rolling in the Deep’ and Oasis’ ‘Wonderwall’ had the crowd singing along to every word at the top of their voices.

After a short interval, it was time for headliners Snow Patrol to take their place in front of the 15,000 strong crowd that had packed itself in front of City Hall and down Donegall Place. With no loudspeaker introduction, you wouldn’t have realised that the band had walked onstage, if it weren’t for the roar of the audience. Opening with ‘Open Your Eyes’, the audience singing every word, was an early sign of what was to come, and that tonight was going to be something special.

With television cameras floating overhead and against the stunning backdrop of City Hall, lead singer Gary Lightbody told the crowd: “Belfast, city of our hearts, the world is watching. Let’s show it what we’re made of.” And with that they launched into a song written especially for Belfast, ‘Take Back The City’, with the masses singing and dancing in unison. As if there was any need to remind anyone of why the event was even taking place, Lightbody announced that it was “time to go live to the MTV EMAs” for a performance of new single ‘Called Out In The Dark’. There was a little bit of drama towards the end of the song when Lightbody’s mic fell, but the crowd pulled through and finished for him.

The band continued to treat the audience for the rest of their set, including singing “Belfast” in place of “New York”, in their track ‘New York’ and a beautiful duet with Shauna Tohill (of Ram’s Pocket Radio), singing ‘Set Fire To The Third Bar’. No-one would have been disappointed if the set ended there, but Snow Patrol, not content with ending so soon, came on for an encore of ‘Chocolate’ and a stomping rendition of ‘Just Say Yes’. To say the band left the stage on a high note would be an understatement. It was homecoming gig for the boys from Bangor, but this was no ordinary homecoming gig.

BY JAMES PATTERSON 

Not since Bowie have so many musicians publicly accredited so much influence to just the one person.Well maybe not. To make a grand statement like that would be to ignore the countless musicians who’ve been name dropped by other musicians over the years to lend a little bit of secondhand credit to a fledgling record: Thom Yorke, Kevin Shields, Kurt Cobain, Joe Strummer, Elliott Smith, Tupac Shakur, Steve Malkmus, Thurston Moore, Damon Albarn, Francis Black, Beth Gibbons, and 3-D from Massive Attack. Heck, in more recent times you’d even be hard pressed to get through five pages of an NME copy without reading the names of Peter Doherty, Julian Casablancas or James Murphy at least twice. But forget about all that.

The point is that everything about this new record seems to exude “ambition” in big dreamy swathes. Everything from the cover-art (designed by Mick Rock, who did the covers for Raw Power, Transformer and Syd Barrett’s The Madcap Laughs), to the pointed singularity of the title -a term used to describe the perspective of a single object from two different points of view. This is an album very much intended to further the scope of the “Bradford canon” and cull from its listenership a warmth towards the man who,if the lyrics are to be believed, has never enjoyed total intimacy with anyone.

Case in point, the opening track, ‘The Shakes’. Cox never reveals completely the intention of his buried vocals or the meaning of the title; he hides behind ambiguity (much, indeed, like the parallax of an object seen from multiple points of view). What do “the shakes” refer to? Delirium Tremens? Sex? Anxiety? This question is never satisfied but, as a listener, the point is not to care. It could be all of these things. Soundwise however, this is more Microcastle era Deerhunter than Atlas Sound. For him, comfortable. Think of something that sounds like a cross between Animal Collective and Eddie Cochran.

‘Amplifiers’ is itchy and repetitive, intentionally so, of course. The soundtrack to the recall of a bad trip not helped by the catcalling of “strange, strange” throughout: Bradford Cox bouncing off the walls of a ponderous Murakami well. One has to wonder, again, the meaning of all of this?

The record doesn’t really come into its own until it bears its soul i.e. during its more tender moments. Bradford always sounds like the lost child in a supermarket who no-one will pay any attention to. Listening to his heartbearing loneliness is gutwrenchingly sad. It’s reminiscent of NME’s review of Radiohead’s Amnesiac back in 2001, which said that Thom Yorke sounded every bit “the lost android waif adrift in a world he does not understand”. The same thing applies here to Bradford Cox. He is the perpetual outsider completely unmotivated by hate – someone who loves too much.

Take ‘Te Amo’, a song where the vocals are uncharacteristically prominent for Cox, as if to reinforce the intensity of its subject. Musically settling into a beautiful rainforest segue – a tribal and spacious soundscape set against the lyrical backdrop of Cox’s traditional concerns: half recalled memories; outsider love.

‘Modern Aquatic Nightsongs’ is nothing short of beautiful. Comical even, in it’s way, Bradford sounds like a lounge lizard on a lost life-raft at midnight. In fact, the temptation to imagine Cox being coaxed into the ocean by a groupie siren is a little overwhelming.

Yet, the record’s real highlights for me though were the tracks ‘Doldrums’ and ‘Terra Incognita’: backwards ballads only a tortured lonelyheart like Bradford Cox could’ve written.

Imbued with all the weirdness of Brian Wilson, Cox is nevertheless carving out his own little nook within the canon of mindfuck Americana. Not to expand anyone’s consciousness or

creep on some twitchy acid flashback, but to give us the sense that love is an internal sensation. Not external. At this rate of going, not even Animal Collective will be able to touch Cox after a few more albums (Panda Bear and Avey Tare’s solo ones included). He’s always got something new and interesting to say, and God bless his lonely little heart for all that.

BY LEE BRADY

Disregarding the comments, it is clear Clarkson knows what it takes to make good pop rock. Whether she was intending it to turn out that way or not is not really any concern, the album speaks for itself. Sure, “Mr. Know It All” and  track “What Doesn’t Kill You” are much ‘dancier’ than ‘Since U Been Gone’, but they still embody that hearty American Teen Rock (ATR) that Kelly does so well.

It would have been more appropriate to give examples of Alanis Morissette, Beyoncé and Katy Perry for inspiration, the ability to make bitter or emotional songs while maintaining an air of satisfaction and enjoyment in doing so being instrumental to setting Kelly apart from the crowd. Throughout, the production is great, the lyrics can range from insightful to bitter and pop music as a whole could really use with more songs written in the third person, like country-themed outro “Breaking Your Own Heart”. Quality does occasionally slip on some songs, such as “Einstein” and “Let Me Down”, where lyrics and music don’t quite meld as well as they could, but pop-rock gems like “The War is Over” and “You Can’t Win” are just two of several high points in what is an overall enjoyable production. A great effort and an easy recommendation.

Wuthering Heights is Andrea Arnold’s (and co-writer Olivia Hetreed’s) pseudo-radical re-imagining of Emily Brontë’s novel about passion and unrequited love. By transposing her trademark documentary style and mix of unprofessional and seasoned actors from Fish Tank to this adaptation, Arnold creates a version of the book that may divide fans of the book despite making perfect sense.

BY MATTHEW MCKERNAN

A poor young Heathcliff (played as a young boy by Solomon Glave, as a man by James Howson) is brought into the Earnshaw household by the charitable Mr. Earnshaw (Paul Hilton), where he soon falls for the young Catherine (played as a young girl by Shannon Beer, as a woman by Kaya Scodelario) and comes into bother with her brother Hindley (Lee Shaw). The romance between Heathcliff and Catherine grows despite the best efforts of everyone around them. However, the romance fails to blossom when Catherine begins to favour Mr. Linton (played as a young boy by Jonny Powell, as a man by Oliver Milburn). Heathcliff goes into exile, only to return years later a troubled and vengeful man.

Much has been made of Andrea Arnold’s treatment of this respected source material, which refuses to overlook the elements of sadomasochism and necrophilia in the story. However, as the film plays out, it becomes increasingly clear that making the film course and violent was something of an obvious choice. It is, in fact, a wonder that no one has ever thought to do it before. The book was shocking when it came out, so why wouldn’t there be a shocking film version for today. And, far from being radical, Arnold’s aesthetics and harsher telling seem to fit the story better than the classical and soppy Laurence Olivier-starring 1939 version, a good though uninspiring entertainment.

Ultimately, Arnold’s Wuthering Heights success lies not for its treatment but in its beautifully lyrical imagery and in the performances of many of its actors. The film’s first half is slow and involving with a Malickian attention of nature and dialogue-free plot progression (the only hiccough here is an awkward line given to Amy Wren’s Frances Earnshaw). The surroundings becomes a character in themselves and the permanence of nature in contrast to that of the characters is brilliantly suggested by a branch that constantly taps a window despite, or in spite of, the passing of the years. Although by the second half of the film,Arnold’s aesthetics are easy to take for granted and Heathcliff, as embodied by James Howson, is less sympathetic, the film retains some moving repetitions and contrasts. The carefree and spontaneous nature of Heathcliff and Catherine’s walks along the moors is, in the film’s second half, stiflingly regimented and unfulfilling. These juxtapositions go some way in creating the sense of loss that should pervade this second half, though it is less successfully portrayed than the vitality of the first half.

Though it is a lot less shocking than it may think it is, Wuthering Heights as done by Andrea Arnold still displays a lot of the talent that was so evident in Fish Tank. Though it is a flawed film, it remains a moving film anchored by some great performances, especially from Glave and Beer, and some magnificent visuals.

Bon Iver called goosebumps up to invigorate the nerve-endings sleeping my body over; Bon Iver often formed salt-water at my eyes; beat exultation into my tenderised heart; copulated in some mystifyingly personal way with my ears.

BY PETER MCLOUGHLIN

Bon Iver vindicated sensibilities and alleviated personal anxiety. Bon Iver sincerely took the transfiguration of their art for stage seriously. Bon Iver had the whole audience on their feet, lit the stage for an hour and a half with impeccable and effervescent lighting, earned rapturous applause after each glorious rendition of already gently excellent musical compositions, Bon Iver was the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced in a theatre.

To many, the Canadian swooner Michael Buble has become recognised as the man capable of melting a million hearts with just his voice. His latest venture follows this trend as through his latest Christmas album.

BY SARAH NELSON

Buble successfully adds a contemporary and soulful twist to our traditional festive tunes. Michael’s versatile vocals and dreamy tone brings the Christmas spirit to life, becoming the ideal stocking filler for old and young alike. A favourite to flick to would be his rendition of ‘All I Want For Christmas’ as despite this song having been repeatedly covered, Michael makes it his own with a dose of his modern and jazzy edge. Fell free, however, to skip past ‘Jingle Bells’ as although he attempts to transform this Christmas classic, it’s rather difficult to take his cover seriously. I doubt many would willingly have it on repeat on their playlists. A further downside of the album is that it isn’t suitable for all year round, making it difficult to fully get your money’s worth. Ultimately, although I’d rather wake up to Michael Buble himself under my Christmas tree, his recent album would be both an acceptable and appealing alternative.

Finally Disney made the wise decision to return this lovable classic to the distribution lists. Available to all, re-master

BY LAURA SHEARER

The story of Simba the lion cub has been remarked upon as one of the greatest Disney narratives of all time. Likened to that of Shakespeare’s Hamlet and widely discussed the world over for its ease of appeal, The Lion King is unlike the average Disney where the Princess gets her well deserved prince and they all live happily ever after. Family betrayal, a plot to overthrow the king, murder, and revenge are unlikely central themes for a children’s tale, but in 1994 The Lion King made history with its first and only animation to date that involves absolutely no human characters.

In Disney’s peak of fine tuned animation that adapted culturally anywhere, The Lion King broke the rule book with its conceptually strange characters from the Serengeti. Culturally specific and universally applicable, how they managed that will always be part of the magic. Mind boggling as it is trying to condemn Disney for flaws, few critics at the time could find any fault, so this time round it’s equally as difficult to seek out anything unfavourable. The Lion King is one of Disney’s most untouchable gems.

Toe tapping musical numbers by Elton John and Tim Rice, accompanied by a score from none other than Hans Zimmer, won the feature two Oscars and two Grammys. The award winning music is matched mirrored by an unforgettable voice cast that power their way through the impeccable timing and characterisation. The visuals are something to marvel at, but all of these elements combined equate to a filmic wonder that will bring tears to your eyes and warmth to your heart.

Take advantage of this re-release, as often as they come with Disney, this is a film particularly worthy of the status and hype. Seeing it on the big screen again, as I did as a child years ago, I was again overwhelmed by just how extraordinary The Lion King is. Truth to be told, The Lion King rightfully deserves the wide eyed wonder, excitement and enjoyment of audiences in line for a second chance delight.

Whoever said Detroit was the city to be for arts and creativity has clearly never been to Belfast. In the wake of the EMA Awards, the unveiling of the new Titanic museum, and a number of art venues popping up all over the city, it’s clear that Belfast is well-known for more than just its turbulent past. Australian-born and Belfast-based artist Teelah George recently launched a collection of her latest artwork at the Lawrence Street Workshops, located just off-campus from Queen’s University.

BY JANETTE LOUGHLIN

George started out teaching in the Fremantle Arts Centre, Perth, where she had the opportunity to create her own beginner’s drawing course as part of the centre’s curriculum. From there, George received an artist’s residency in one of Cushendall’s art galleries, before moving to Belfast where she has lived for the past two years.

Her recent exhibition at the Lawrence Street Workshops gave individuals a taste for her unique work. Focusing her art around handmade, original designs, George emphasises the way in which her art is not overly conceptual; it gives the observer complete freedom to interpret each piece differently.

Many of the techniques George uses involve using recycled, economic materials; from watercolour paper to linens, to everyday domestic materials, the range of mediums used highlight a keen eye for detail and awareness of wider global issues, both in form and content. As George says: “Art has that ability to change, it makes you notice reality more.”

Using a variety of materials and techniques such as felt, cloth and crochet, George’s experiences in using tactile materials to create still life representations of art have created an overall motif for her work. In developing a material language, and by relating the anatomical with the botanical, George’s visions come together to represent something meaningful and relate ideas to the wider world. She says: “Art has this reciprocal relationship that creates a narrative.”

Speaking about the cultural changes between her life in Perth and Belfast, George explained the differences in funding for the arts. “With more money invested in the arts in Australia compared to the UK,” she says, “it sometimes feels like there was more of an artists’ community in Australia.” But given the recent emergence of the arts in the past ten years especially, it’s clear that Northern Ireland is well on its way to establishing itself alongside other contemporary creative cities.

BY ROMANO MULLIN

What the appeal behind Frankie may be, I don’t know. Perhaps girls like a man who looks like he smells vaguely of urine and unwashed bed sheets. Perhaps being immortalised on his bottom is enough to make any woman swoon, but it certainly doesn’t make up for Frankie’s serious lack of talent. His bottom wasn’t enough to save him from the wrath of the X Factor producers either, even if his bum notes went past an apparently tone-deaf public without too much concern.

However, talk about Frankie’s train wreck vocals, his faintly sinister grin and his Titanic-esque lifestyle is well-worn and has been banged out on typewriters and keyboards in every newspaper office in the country. Gossip columns have relished in his boozy antics, the morally upright brigade have roared that he’s a sign of the anti-Christ, and he’s even been declared a walking STI. Men, lock up your daughters, wives and grandmothers.

What our eminent media industry seems to have missed is one important fact: Frankie Cocozza, loath as I am to admit it, is a victim. A victim of a celebrity obsessed culture gone too far, sure, but who isn’t? A victim of excruciatingly tight jeans, of course, but he’s also a victim of bullying, and perhaps worse, a victim of fascination.

You would think we’ve learnt something from the appalling waste of talent that was Amy Winehouse, but a few moments perusal over the tabloids and even the inner pages of broadsheets, shows that we’re no wiser now than when poor beleaguered Amy was spilling onto the street in blood stained ballet pumps. We’re still in love with watching a life go down the chute. No doubt someone will tell us there’s a deep seated, evolutionary explanation to this kind of compulsion, but we’re also compelled deep down to smash the brains in of the nearest predator, but most of us have outgrown that.

You can argue that Frankie put himself forward knowingly into the spotlight, and there’s no denying that. No-one forced him to sing, and certainly no-one forced him to tell us about the sixty four women he’s (allegedly) slept with. But what do you expect from a teenager? Frankie Cocozza is a mouthy, swaggering, and slightly creepy eighteen year old, but even he doesn’t deserve to be publicly crucified on the front pages. What eighteen year old boy doesn’t exaggerate his sexual experience, or crow about his apparently “edgy” lifestyle?

It’s easy for the public to jeer at the expense of the participants in shows like the X Factor or the seemingly indestructible Big Brother. They live in the most glittery of goldfish bowls, surrounded by a swarm of ravenous paparazzi and screeching fans. But once the curtain of publicity falls away, what’s left for people like Frankie Cocozza? Newspaper headlines are harder to erase than fifteen minutes of fame, and the scars they leave may outweigh those few moments in the sunshine. It’s clearly time for Frankie to grow up and take some classes in etiquette, but it’s also time for the tabloid press to grow up and stop taking cheap shots at easy targets. Isn’t spending a few weeks with Louis Walsh enough punishment for Frankie’s vocal sins?

David Meade wants to give one lucky person the chance to share his special, mind reading powers.

If you missed the 1st series of The David Meade Project, you won’t have seen how amazing David’s mind reading powers really are! But you’re in luck… as there is another chance to see it on Sunday on BBC2 NI at 22.50.

For you chance to be selected, contact details are below:

NOTE: ALL SELECTION PROCESS WILL BE FILMED FOR BROADCAST

Email: pickmedmp@wild-rover.com

Phone: 028 9050 0975

Paticipants must be over 16 years of age

BY ANNE-MARIE MONGANThe album is full of pleasant but mediocre ballads, like the lead single ‘Arms’, whereas up tempo songs are few and far between; yet, ‘Bang, Bang, Bang’ proves that Perri is capable of knocking out a catchy tune. ‘Mine’ sounds promising from the onset with its quirky piano beat but disappoints when Perri’s vocals are lost under a myriad of instruments.

Perri revealed that, as the album was recorded in just thirty-three days, she had to draw on an arsenal of songs she has been writing since she was fifteen. This may explain the simplistic and juvenile lyrics of ‘Miles’ which opens with the lacklustre line ‘I’m scared today, more than I told you I was yesterday’ while ‘Bluebird’ borders on nonsensical: ‘I didn’t even say that you died/ But it wouldn’t have been such a lie/ Cos then I started to cry’.

Nevertheless, what Perri sometimes lacks as a lyricist she makes up for with her vocal performance. Her voice remains powerful and energetic throughout the album. It shines on tracks like ‘The Lonely’ and ‘Tragedy’ which are reminiscent of ‘Jar of Hearts’ and, without a doubt, the album’s main attractions. Her raw vocals compliment the melancholic piano, creating a uniquely dark and haunting tone. ‘Tragedy’, in particular, ensures that the album ends on a high note with its dramatic violin and guitar duet.

Overall, Lovestrong is difficult to get through in one sitting. Perri lingers on the themes of love and heartbreak to the point that the songs become repetitive and tedious. In spite of the album’s drawbacks, however, there are strokes of brilliance. Perri’s unique voice and talent for writing dark, dramatic ballads suggest the potential for a great second album.

BY CIARAN JUDGE

The cheapest version is the Remastered CD which is the same object that hit record stores 20 years ago and have been selling ever since. Once Play is pressed an onslaught begins as the pop inspired guitar riffs course through the more recognisable songs “Smells like Teen Spirit,” “In Bloom,” and “Come As You Are.” These songs together remain one of the strongest album openings in modern rock music. “Smells Like Teen Spirit” in particular, forebodes the album’s themes of youthful alienation and apathy, (“Load up on guns and Bring your friends/ It’s fun to lose and to pretend.”)

The centrepiece of the record is “Polly,” a song from the perspective of a kidnapper directed at his victim. It juxtaposes unrelenting, disturbing lyrics (“Polly wants a cracker/ Think I should get off of her first/ I think she wants some water/ To put out the blow torch) with the catchiest riffs on the album, making it a microcosm of the record as a whole.

On the second half of the album the standout tracks are “Drain You” and “Something in the Way.” “Drain You” is one of the heavier songs on the album while the latter is the opposite, a close, personal song recorded while Cobain lay on a sofa with only a guitar and his own raspy, instantly recognisable voice. The album now ends with “Endless Nameless,” originally a hidden track at the end of “Something in the Way.” It is a relatively weak track, with rambling guitar and incomprehensible lyrics, which suggests why it was hidden in the first place, and should have remained so.

The 2 Disk set also contains an assortment of “Smart Session” mixes and Demo Tapes labelled “The Boombox Rehearsals.” The problem here is that the “Smart Session” recordings sound too much like the finished products to be of any interest while the sound quality of the “Boombox Rehearsals” makes these rough tracks almost unlistenable.

The 4 disk set goes further by adding a CD of original mixes by producer Butch Vig as opposed to the polished final mixes by Howie Weinberg, yet again these sound too similar to the tracks presented on CD1 to be noteworthy. There is also a CD of most of the songs on the album performed live which is the only truly substantial piece of extra material on the collection.

In the end, it is very difficult to fault the album itself, which hasn’t lost any of its relevance after 20 years, however, the extras, like those found on a DVD, don’t add very much to the product. Unfortunately, they do add considerably to the price, so the best advice is to just buy the original CD and give it a few spins.

BY NAOMI NORTON

After a packed student night at Stiff Kitten on Thursday, the venue was almost embarrassingly empty for the bands final show of their second album, One Thousand Pictures (rated 8/10 by NME). About thirty other people stood in the shadows, who came to see what all the fuss was about. While the heavy guitar support band droned into the background I began to worry that £10 of my limited student loan had been wasted on some overhyped, arrogant indie band. However, this all changed when the band came onto the stage at a very rock and roll half eight. After beckoning us all to the front you were almost able to pretend you were, at least, in a semi-filled venue. The band kicked off with two of their most popular songs, ‘Little Gun’ and ‘Mr. Understanding’. The lead singer Tom Sanders was quick to engage with the crowd and created a very laid back and fun atmosphere, which he kept up for the entire gig. Aided by his camp, dad dancing.

The band finished with ‘Blood Gets Thin’ and I was quite sad to see them leave, mainly as it was only 9:20 on a Saturday night. But as we were ushered out so that Stiff Kitten could set up for their 6th birthday party, the lead singer came bounding over to us. I, like the drunken man next to me, adamantly told him that it was an utter shame that the venue was empty, Tom Sanders just blushed.

This band don’t take themselves seriously and are willing to give the audience exactly what they want, evident when Tom Sanders threw his ‘badly scrawled’ set list into the crowd. In an era of arrogant indie rock stars such as Alex Turner and Julian Casablanca’s, I can assure you it was a breath of fresh air to see a non-arrogant indie band. The band even refused to do an encore, Sanders referred to it as ‘pretentious nonsense’ and stated, ‘we’ll just stay on stage and do a couple more songs shall we?’ All thirty of us roared in agreement.

In recent years, as we drown in the sea of generic, one hit wonder indie pop bands, Pete and the Pirates sail by in their ship of fun and clever lyrics about modern society. Pete and the Pirates are worth the hype.

BY ALISTAIR HOPSON

As an internationally recognised artist, it is safe to say Felix is accustomed to playing larger club venues and festivals. However spatially, Stiff Kitten offered an intimate gig. For house-fans, seeing an artist of such a critical stature in such a personal environment was certainly appealing. It is also worth noting that in spite of house-music declining in popularity within the UK, Felix and his support managed to find a warm reception without playing commercial club remixes.  Instead the acts remained contextually aware, from the more sociable music played initially, to the more intense music nearing Felix’s set. The set remained unconstrained to replicating past popularities, or in search of nostalgia. A particular highlight was newcomer Screendeath. At less than half Felix’s age, Screendeath still managed to connect tremendously well with the audience and is certainly one to watch.

Ultimately, the night was made by a man faithfully charismatic and far from beyond his time. Though acts like Screendeath showed potential for a young house revival, the acclaimed Chicago DJ set the night on fire, offering dance fans a fresh resurge of what was one of the UK’s favourite sub-genres.

BY SHANNON DELORES O’NEILIts mid summer 2011 and playing over the god awful Radio 1 daytime playlist comes a song from a fiery red head. At first it’s ‘The A Team’ acoustic charms are alluring. Acoustic guitar with some finger picking and slap-strum experimentation on the air? Alas, surely not? The musical style teams well with the story laden song; refreshing to have something like this playing among the generic beat heavy ‘ Let us party to the dawn breaks and heck, have another shot,’ anthems that douse the daily airwaves. The young man with the needlessly small acoustic is bearable.

Weeks pass and the days get shorter, the summer is almost over and a new song from Sheeran is released. ‘You Need Me, I Don’t Need You’ is one of the biggest musical turnarounds. In the time its taken July to say hello to August, young Ed has gone from an Ellie Goulding to a Craig David. The song is described by the masses as being some sort of ‘ground breaking, witty as hell, middle finger to the rest of the mainstream’ track; but on it’s basic level it’s just as self centred and whiney as Cher Lloyd’s latest offering. This style continues for about 80% of his début + but it’s not until ‘Give Me Love’ shakes it’s quiet self from the rest of the pack that we get to hear the Sheeran we once appreciated on some level back in early summer; he’s telling stories again, he’s actually singing, he’s offering layered vocal choruses and orchestral arrangements. For goodness sake man stick with this combination instead of allowing yourself to slip into the ‘famous for a year’ white rapper come Topman sponsored indie boy! There are some fantastic gems such as ‘Lego House’ hidden between the nu-hiphop songs such as ‘Grade 8′ and ’The City’. Rather disappointingly but unsurprisingly most of his songs in this calibre are only available on the Deluxe Edition of +.

Despite Sheeran’s  identity crisis there does seem to be a light in the distance, perhaps the next installment of Ed will be a bit more decisive in its feel and maybe, if he’s lucky, it’ll have some Fat Cat lee-way.

‘Red Hot’ or Luke Warm? The tenth studio album by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, a band now entering their fourth decade of music, could hardly be expected to be a decisive one, nor would it be the make or break album of their career, however these indie rock and roll stalwarts ambitions have not weakened over time.

BY BRIAN MARTIN

BY MATTHEW MCKERNAN

The plot of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is as convoluted as you would expect of any faithful adaptation of such a book. Put simply, George Smiley (Gary Oldman) plays an espionage agent who is brought back from a forced retirement in order to find a mole in the British Intelligence network. His suspects are represented by the four figures of the title and are played by Colin Firth, Toby Jones, Ciarán Hinds and David Dencik. Helping him is Benedict Cumberbatch, Tom Hardy and Trigger from “Only Fools and Horses” Roger Lloyd-Pack.

The film is entirely plot-driven and convoluted in the style of modern-day serious thrillers, which basically means withholding key pieces of information. For example, towards the end, one character is to be traded for someone that the Soviets have imprisoned. This is never said, but the fact that it has been mentioned before in a different context is deemed enough of a clue. Ultimately, it is a film that makes you think it is more intelligent than it actually is. However, it is a fairly straightforward film that is only confusing when it tries very hard to be. A case in point, the introduction of Tom Hardy’s character, which is not referred to before and not explained until long after it occurs.

Another hallmark of the ‘serious modern thriller’ is a period detail. The film is set in 1973 and a lot of the running time is spent on showing the production design. The convincing costumes and the carefully placed period props get more of a focus than the characters. This is the film’s major stumbling block. Being a faithful adaptation, it deals with too much information, becoming almost pedantic in the amount of detail it tries to bring across, and being a period film, it focuses too much on creating a realistic 1970s England. So much so that the characters becomes ciphers, merely plot points and catalysts to move things forward. We never see their motivations, their weaknesses or their strengths. They are all just very serious people doing very serious things, but with no soul. Few of the actors get a chance to shine, raising the question of why they bothered signing up for such a small role. Like Tom Hollander’s character in In The Loop, they are merely ‘meat in the room’ for much of the running time.

Tomas Alfredson’s directorial preoccupation seems to be based on bringing arthouse techniques to genre filmmaking. His Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, like his Let The Right One In, is awash with formalist framings and very deliberate pacing. The final confrontation between Smiley and the culprit is left largely unseen and characters are constantly framed alongside symmetrical objects. While this style is commendable, especially now with cinemas crowded with over-edited and special effects laden bores such as Transformers, it doesn’t work in films that should be a bit more fun and a bit more exciting. Alfredson clearly thinks that Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is a serious meditation on the mores of the 1970s and the paranoia and cruelty of the Cold War, but the film is rarely successful from this perspective. Indeed, the film’s final shot suggests a film that is more ironic and cynical than its stony seriousness and pretentious trappings would suggest. Mostly it is a rather trashy story that is too slow and too stretched to be much good.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is intended to be serious and profound, but it merely achieves the level of rainy Sunday afternoon entertainment. It is a misfire, but it is a reasonably diverting and somewhat pretty misfire.

Not another Holocaust drama? Kristen Scott Thomas (The English Patient, I’ve Loved You So Long) stars in this thought provoking new Holocaust drama centred on the events of 1942 Paris. 

BY LAURA SHEARER

Scott Thomas plays Julia, a journalist in present day Paris, who finds herself more deeply involved in the research she has undertaken for an article than perhaps she would have hoped.  Delving into unrecorded history Julia tries to unravel the French scandal of the notorious Vel’ d’Hiv Roundup in which over 13,000 Jewish French citizens were mass arrested by a Nazi decree.  The more Julia finds out, the stranger her research becomes and her life bizarrely becomes entwined with a young girl Sarah whose family was torn apart by the 1942 roundup.

In the same vein as Schindler’s List and the more recent The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas, Sarah’s Key again attempts to recreate the horror of the Holocaust in narrative driven drama form.  From a film studies theory perspective, trying to represent the unrepresentable trauma of the events of the Holocaust, events that even to comprehend are imaginable, it just cannot be given the correct justice, or dealt with the appropriate level of respect when demoted to character focused drama.  Yet I’m willing to stand up for what could be considered by most film critiques as Hollywood drivel.  Showing a new story that hasn’t yet been given the narrative treatment on mainstream cinema screens yet, Sarah’s Key does not pull the common denominator of demonising the Nazi involvement.  Instead the roles of the French police and civilians are developed as the questionable territory of ‘if in that situation how can you judge what you would have done’ is offered up as after screening discussion fodder.

There’s nothing terribly original in terms of narrative intent, but it’s the narrative delivery, the believable character acting and the luxurious attention to period detail that makes Sarah’s Key unique in its own deliverance.  As usual the narrative leaves nothing to the imagination with predicable outcomes, but what’s really good is how it develops the notion of never escaping the deep trauma of the Holocaust, leaving all its characters profoundly affected.  The period costumes are of a respectable quality and the sets in the flashback sequences are perfect for the drama unfolding.

Overall I loved it because it does exactly what it says on the tin, but not in a really patronising way that other narratives end up with as their lasting resolve.  Given the popular history of this vein of film many film theorists often denounce them. This overlooks the fact that they do have a place and as they continue to get funded and attract huge crowds, at least attempting to keep the horror of the Holocaust recurrent in the minds of viewers, or perhaps even educating younger generations is enough to make them worthy of a cinema ticket.

The Planet of the Apes franchise consists of five original films, two TV series, a rather confusing Tim Burton remake and now – a reboot. Rupert Wyatt’s Rise of the Planet of the Apes serves as a prequel to the 1968 science fiction film

BY BETHAN HUGHES 

The film tells the story of Will Rodman (James Franco), a scientist who is developing a potential cure for Alzheimer’s disease in a laboratory using chimpanzees as test subjects. Will takes home a baby chimpanzee whose genetically modified mother had been killed in the lab. It soon becomes clear that the baby ape, Caesar (Andy Serkis), has inherited his mother’s modified genes which have given him a high intelligence that increases rapidly. Caesar is sent to a primate enclosure after attacking a human. His mistreatment by Dodge (Tom Felton) causes him to form an alliance with the other inmates at the facility in an attempt to start an ape revolution.

The 1968 film Planet of the Apes, based on the French novel La Planète Des Singes by Pierre Boulle, is hard to live up to. The film was both a commercial and a critical success thanks to its unconventional score and memorable plot but most of all because of its innovative prosthetic make up it was visually stunning. Wyatt is able to take the franchise one step further visually by using CGI and motion capture for his origin story. Caesar’s movements are all reproductions of Serkis‘ movements making the chimp incredibly lifelike and spectacular to watch. The special effects are particularly impressive in the battle scenes at the end of the film – think gorilla versus helicopter. Rise of the Planet of the Apes certainly does look the part.

If you are a fan of the franchise then you’ll particularly enjoy the references to the original film that can be found throughout the prequel. Wyatt succeeds in replicating scenes from Planet of the Apes with the human and ape roles reversed. The prequel even manages to incorporate two of the most memorable lines from the original film.

The only real let down is the sub-plot involving the humans. Franco gives a strong performance as the scientist desperate to hold onto both the man and ape in his life but Freida Pinto’s character seems to have been added just to make the film look prettier. Wyatt succeeded in creating an intriguing, emotionally deep and scene-stealing character in Caesar the chimp but he’s just not on screen for long enough. The film falls back on the good old human characters with their easy to understand spoken language instead of on the real stars of the film – the clue is in the title – the apes.

The prequel is exciting, witty and emotional. Rise of the Planet of the Apes may not be quite as incredible as the 1968 film but it is a very promising start to the Planet of the Apes franchise reboot.

Summer in Belfast is often a name-only affair, and the school (and university) holidays can drag as the hours spent sheltering from the rain in front of the TV and computer screen build up. This problem is even more acute for those of us who have small children in our lives, but Belfast’s Lyric Theatre may just have the perfect solution. Neil Duffield’s adaptation of Rudyard Kipling’s classic tale The Jungle Book is showing at the Northern Bank Stage in the beautiful new Lyric until the 14^th of August, and is ideal for those who want to exchange rainy Ireland for the exotic and magical terrain of deepest jungle.

BY ROMANO MULLIN

The Northern Bank Stage is an intimate location, and before a word is spoken the audience is automatically immersed in the magic of The Jungle Book, as the stage is transformed into a dark and wonderful world of vines, trees and streams. The debt to Kipling is clear as the words of his story are imprinted across the set, and birdsong and floating jungle steam flutter across the rows, creating a delicious anticipation in even the oldest members of the audience. Yet it is the music that is most memorable, with an original score by Conor Mitchell performed by the multi-talented actors who try their hands at flutes, violins and singing. The entire piece runs on the heartbeat of a deep and frenzied beat that recalls everything from opera to folk music, and there are several songs that will stick in your head for days.

But a play is best judged on the performance of its actors, and The Jungle Book boasts an ensemble cast from all over the UK and Ireland. Each actor plays a number of roles, both animal and human, but of course it is their performance as animals that provide the most entertainment. It takes more than an animal skin and claws for them to be believable, but every actor truly lives in the skin of the animals they are performing, taking on their physicality, from the slow grumbling walk of Baloo to the slinky and elegant prowl of Bagheera the panther – this is more than simple caricature. Tony Hasnath as Mowgli is the only actor who remains ‘human’ throughout but he provides the audience with a series of acrobatic performances that capture the endearing and earnest nature of the play’s protagonist. However, this idealistic naivety can grate after the end of the First Act when he begins to interact with other humans: but I will concede this is probably very low down on a child’s list of priorities when going to the theatre. The show is stolen by the performance of Pete Ashmore as the wicked tiger Shere Khan and the vain Sergeant Major. He plays both roles with a terrifically flamboyant malignancy and calculation that is touched with more than a hint of David Bowie’s role in Labyrinth. There are also some fantastic comic turns from Belfast’s own Gerard McCabe as the loveable Baloo, and his dialogue with Sioned Saunders as Bagheera is often electric.

The Jungle Book is the perfect way for a child to spend a summer afternoon in the surrounds of the new Lyric Theatre. And honestly, it’s also a treat for those of us who should probably be doing something more serious with our time.

The QUB University Challenge team tonight succumbed to a particularly nerdy team from the University of Newcastle.

BY BEN FINCH

The team that faced Jeremy Paxman’s forthright style of questioning consisted of captain Thomas Haverty, Niall McDonald, Joshua Greenwood and Ronan Kernan. Haverty did us all proud, announcing that he “studies maths” instead of the usual “reading mathmatics.”

Kernan answered the first starter for ten leading to a series of questions on Latin that had the team harried by Paxman.  A mistake by Kernan in a starting question allowed the red polo necked, brown jumper clad Dunbar to buzz in and Newcastle never looked back, while QUB wore forlorn faces as question after question puzzled them.

Haverty answered a question which no reasonable person could possibly understand, but being a maths student was able to pull the Hubble Equation out of the bag to drag the team to 30 points.  However, Newcastle were almost immediately on 60 as Pang’s “Magical Realism…?” drew a yes from Paxman.

Greenwood began to look slightly embarrassed being chastised by Paxman for what seemed to be a wild guess of The Rape of The Lock.  At this point the team seemed to become unstuck, but hope was raised as Dunbar appeared to collapse into a very quiet Dent.  Unfortunately he nearly leapt with excitement across the rest of the very un-Geordie team to answer correctly.

A knowledge of Greek mythology had a relieved looking Greenwood  answer a starter for ten and Queen’s began a comeback.  Kernan followed it up but they were unable to take the bonus points.  By this stage Newcastle were nearly 100 points ahead.

As Newcastle pulled past the 200 point mark it began to look well beyond Queen’s reach and they couldn’t seem to reach their buzzers before Newcastle’s Turner, who was unstoppable.  Kernan’s correct answer saved Queen’s some face but it was too little too late as they were stuffed 235 to 85.

Mention an American remake of a cult classic and chances are you’ll be met with despair, moans of anguish and an extravaganza of eye-rolling. Fans of Asian horror know more than most the terror of being greeted by a badly written and poorly acted copy imitating a much loved original. Lately however, American studios have turned their sights to northern Europe and the influx of Scandinavian films and television shows that are ripe for the picking. From the Swedish ‘Låt den rätte komma in’ came the 2010 ‘Let Me In’. Lisbeth Salander, the infamous girl with the dragon tattoo, is being transformed at this very moment into an American duplicate. Even the 2009 ‘Brothers’ with Toby Maguire and Jake Glyllenhaal is based on a Danish original.

BY ROMANO MULLIN

With a mixed track record of reproductions, there was some trepidation when it was announced that the popular Danish crime thriller ‘Forbrydelsen’ would be remade for an American audience, known as ‘The Killing’. Any crime fan worth their ‘Law and Order’ box sets knew that the 2007 series was an example of crime drama at all its moody, atmospheric and goose-pimple inducing best. Any American imitation would pale by comparison, surely?

As it happens Channel 4 is now broadcasting the AMC remake, allowing us on this side of the Atlantic to see what has become of our beloved ‘Forbrydelsen’. The truth, as always, hurts: the Americans have not totally destroyed the series. Nothing of the eerily beautiful atmosphere of Denmark has been lost in ‘The Killing’, moved as it has been to the equally eerily beautiful surrounds of Seattle and Washington state, which remains eerie no matter what how many times you consider ‘Twilight’ was set here. The cinematography is often stunning, the locations are suitably decaying and the constant rain is a satisfying reminder that some places have worse weather than Ireland.

There have been slight alterations in character, and we now have to wonder who has claimed the life of young Rosie Larsen, not (the perhaps less easily said) Nanna Birk Larsen. Essentially, however, the characters remain the same, and the protagonist, the distracted, gifted and often ethereally serious Detective Sarah Linden, played by Mireille Enos, is as engaging as ever, if given slightly too much leeway to gaze mysteriously into the mid-distance. Her sidekick is the truly annoying Stephen Holder who employs pretty unusual tactics in trying to get information. He encourages school girls to smoke pot, which is certainly not something Miss Marple would think of. The performances of Michelle Forbes and Brent Sexton as Rosie’s parents are probably the most memorable of the first two episodes, displaying a raw and wounded grief that is both touching and believable.

The Killing’s frame of reference is definitely American, and it bears more than a shade of resemblance to David Lynch’s masterpiece of television, ‘Twin Peaks’, while Mireille Enos as the frazzled Sarah Linden is definitely working towards something akin to Frances McDormand’s Marge Gunderson from ‘Fargo’. All in all, ‘The Killing’ is quite enjoyable, and even quite good if you give it a chance to get past the often clunky dialogue and sometimes clichéd acting. However, it is doubtful that it will ever be more than a pale imitation when compared to the truly excellent ‘Forbrydelsen’.

BY EMMA GALLEN

Unlike its predecessors, ‘The Deathly Hallows: Part Two’ recaps almost flawlessly. It is clear that where there are differences from the books it is either for a great visual effect or to aid the plot and structure.  Ollivander the wandmaker is able to quickly summarise what the Deathly Hallows are for anyone who might not be a total die hard fan. And for those who are, it is a forgivable change to make.

The music and special effects are excellent, as has come to be expected.  The 3D is subtle, Nagini isn’t jumping out to eat the audience, and this elevates the film above others that have used the effect, like ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’.  The Battle of Hogwarts is CGI magic (sorry), particularly the teachers’ enchantments of the school and the dragon escaping Gringotts.

After ten years, the Harry Potter franchise makes use of the superb actors on set.  Maggie Smith comes to life ridding the school of Professor Snape, Helena Bonham Carter shines playing Hermione impersonating Bellatrix and Alan Rickman at long last has some screentime. Possibly even sadder than the death of Dobby is the story of Snape growing up. Bring tissues.

Neville Longbottom steals the show in the book and will steal the show for lovers of ‘The Notebook’.  He gives a rousing speech of how Harry will never leave anyone as he lives here, and points to his stomach. Child stars may not have learnt anatomy but the effect is still achieved.

The sentiment of it being “the end” is clear throughout but luckily the film manages to avoid over-sentimentality. The showing of the dead is tasteful and the romances are sweet.  Ron and Hermione getting together was done seamlessly, and the quick glances, and holding hands is genuinely heart warming.

The film series did the reverse of the books; the books started brilliantly and lost their spark towards the end, while the final film is the best in the series, with humour and good acting finally outshining the special effects.

McJazzyFest started out on small North Antrim farm 3 years ago as a camping party for a few friends who enjoyed music, dancing and the odd pint of beer.  Growing from a small number of friends, to 60 people at last year’s event, to 350 happy campers this year, McJazzyFest has risen to become Northern Ireland’s ‘biggest small independent music festival’.

BY JANETTE LOUGHLIN

Created and chiefly organised by Queen’s University graduate John McGarry, McJazzyFest 2011 has been three months hard work from an organisational team of 30 friends to bring the show together for a great night’s craic.  From sound technicians to photographers to family members and friends, the success of the event is a credit to all those involved with organising and ensuring the event ran smoothly.

Due to the massive increase in popularity of McJazzyFest over the past three years, McGarry has been able to turn the event into something that has benefited the Northern Ireland based charity, Tiny Life.  Raising funds of £750.40, the impressive sum will go a long way to support the local charity in its effort to reduce premature birth, illness, disability and death among infants in Northern Ireland.

Arriving at the campsite the festive spirit is visible from half way down the lane.  Brightly coloured tents, an array of rainbow coloured wellies and the evening sun settling over the fields sets the tone for the evening; sunshine and fun.  Before the bands started up, guests spent the evening setting up tents, getting to know their new neighbours, making friends and playing the odd game of bean bag toss.  With weather conditions staying dry but windy, there were quite literally flying gazebos and runaway hats, but it was no mud-induced-Glastonbury-melt-down.

Raffle ticket sellers did the rounds for a chance to win tickets to see Rihanna in Belfast, giant sumo wrestling suits or a date with my mate, to name a few.  A burger van took up residency among tents for the night and provided much needed nutrition for an evening’s dancing.  Portaloos were hired for the occasion, which saved many from awkward falls into bushes on a midnight venture up the lane in search for some privacy.  They probably saved some baby foals from a terrible fright too.

Providing the sound and lighting equipment for the event was Moyle Music Collective, a community organisation based in Ballycastle. They help support new and upcoming bands by providing equipment and hosting gigs.  Local photographer Andrew McLaughlin spent the evening diligently capturing Kodak moments all over the event; from the best costumes in fancy dress, to the craziest bust-a-moves.

Kicking off the music entertainment for the night was local two piece band Run Paint Run.  Based in Castlerock and Limavady, the duo consists of  Matt Murdock on bass guitar and Danny Kane on drums.  Full of sonic influences from And So I Watch You From Afar and Oceansize with their rip rockin’ instrumental beats, the band’s skills and dedication to music is a testament to both Murdock and Kane.  Having played in Ballymoney’s Ma Kelly’s at its weekly Rock Night gig, the band are making a name for themselves in local music circles.

Next up to play on the lorry/impromptu stage were ILL Minds, self-confessed hip hop rappers based in North Derry.  Featuring  Paddy Mullan as ‘The G’ with his bandmates, John Maxwell as ‘J The Hybrid’ and Traglach Bradley aka ‘Kid X’ make up ILL Minds. Speaking about how the project started, Mullan said: “We wanted to do something more than just going out and getting drunk, so we got together and started experimenting with different sounds and recording, it all just kicked off from there really.”  Performing at McJazzyFest, ILL Minds pumped out their infectious ‘What’s the Craic?’, with every audience member shouting along and dancing the bit out.  Followed closely by an acoustic interlude from John McGarry’s uncle,  ‘My Uncle Eugene’, played to a well-receiving audience, treating them to an array of sing-along favourites and classic tunes.

As the night went on, the dance arena filled up with neon paint-clad revellers well geared up for dancing at this point.  The final band to take to the stage was Jumping Orbit.  Having played in venues all over the north and Belfast, including Auntie Annie’s, Lavery’s and Radar at Queen’s Student’s Union, the Mid-Ulster four piece have become well known throughout the province for their high-energy, guitar-fuelled performances.  With Matthew Laverty on vocals and rhythm guitar, Ciaran Cassidy playing lead guitar, Franky Boyd on drums and Anthony McKenna on bass, their set brought another dimension to the evening.  Heartfelt lyrics layered within captivating and catchy melodies, Jumping Orbit’s music echoed out into the summer sky as it placed everyone in an escapist trance.  Talking about McJazzyFest, Matthew said: “We’re really excited to be performing, it’s a great opportunity for local acts and we’d love to come back again next year.”

After Jumping Orbit finished their set, the crowd moved to watch Chinese sky lanterns being set off; a symbol of celebration against the night sky.  Then McGarry took to the stage to announce winners of the raffle and give his thanks to all those who came along, performed, helped set up and organise the whole event.  Acknowledging that the event would not be possible without all its volunteers, McGarry said: “Thanks a million to everyone who contributed or helped out in any way, we just wanted to everyone to have a great time.”

As the evening wound down for some and intensified for others, local DJs  took to the stage.  Steven Neligan, a resident DJ in Dublin’s POD nightclub and has played all over the country; from Belfast to Tralee, entertained the crowd with funky percussion beats with a rhythmic bass line.  Guitarist for local band Team Laser Explosive, Shira, made his festival DJing debut at McJazzyFest.  Silly the Kidd and Niall Mullan also performed sets that rocked the crowd into the wee hours of the morning.

With the success of this year’s McJazzyFest, people are already looking ahead to next year.  The sense of community spirit, the support for the local music scene, the raised  awareness for Tiny Life has all been overwhelming because of the success of this one small festival in a secret location in Co Antrim.  The festival has grown into what it is today because of the efforts of a strong group of people who really want to do something unique within their community.  They want to support friends, charities and local bands and give everyone a good time in the process.  Objective: achieved.  And in the words of McJazzy: “When it’s time to party we will party hard!” Or wait, maybe that was Andrew WK…

Running until Saturday the 9th of July, Patsy Hughes’ stage adaptation of George Orwell’s novel ’1984′, takes us back to the future with an interesting performance of the classic novel.  It stars Philip Bunting as lead role, Winston Smith, and  Newry-born actress Dearbhail Carr as Julia.  Presenting to a full house for the opening night, both Bunting  and Carr were poised and ready, commanding  the stage with confidence and authenticity important to the characters.

BY JANETTE LOUGHLIN

Set in the dystopian future of 1984, the production follows the narrative structure of the novel, but as would be expected from a time-limited performance, many scenes are left out.  To incorporate the ever-watchful Big Brother into the play, a wall of television screens were placed facing the audience.  Timed interruptions from the Thought Police then addressed Winston and Julia throughout the show.  These  pre-recorded telecasts were played out for both Bunting and Carr to respond to, and throughout the show most exchanges were timed to perfection, with only a few overlaps in speech.

With his quiet, deliberate movements during the opening scene, Bunting captured the tedium and boredom of time passing in an endless, suffocating way.  Bunting’s sense of quiet panic and unease was felt throughout the theatre, and mirrored by Carr in their shared scenes.  Their rigid, uniform and carefully choreographed movements in sync to daily exercise routines played out through the telecasters echoed a shared sense of frustration and helplessness.

Perhaps the most moving aspect of the play was the development  of Winston and Julia’s relationship.  Seeing the tone change over the course of the play as it followed them from the thrilling excitement of secret trysts, to their torture and betrayal, the performance showed how futile love was in a world where everything is controlled and freedom has been taken away.  The pair’s chemistry was felt by the audience throughout the theatre as they both delivered an intense performance.

The more relaxed scenes between Julia and Winston provided reprieve from the heaviness of the plot.  Bunting and Carr seemed almost human again in their own private world.  Carr in particular brought out a certain sense of humour from within Julia’s character.  Talking freely about the misdirection of the ministries; abolishing the orgasm; the taste of contraband coffee, it was sad to see how simple things became important to hold onto once the aspect of freedom of choice had been taken away.

A simplistic yet intimate scene between Julia and Winston which took place in the rented room in London made the audience seem like they were playing Big Brother, infringing on this couple’s privacy, yet completely a part of it at the same time. The simple act of putting on red lipstick became a symbol of defiance. In addition, the modest, nervous way Carr put the lipstick on on made Julia seem fragile and vulnerable despite her displays of strength.

The colour red was a visible motif throughout the performance.  A red sash tied around Julia’s waist; the red mattress Winston and Julia lay on; red beams of colour streaming down the black stage curtains, red stood out against black and seemed symbolic of communism.

The torture scene in which we witness Winston being psychologically and physically beaten by an Inner Party member, O’Brien, who had tricked both Winston and Julia, displays a powerful performance from Bunting.  The force behind his delivery carried fury and resentment which turned into sadness as he became more and more exhausted.  The long monologues from both O’Brien and Winston show that it must have been a physically draining performance with all the pressure of remembering lines and timings.

There were moments of humour which lifted the heaviness of the play at times, but it was difficult to know when to laugh.  Sarcasm, irony, black humour all contradicted the bleak and desolate world of 1984.  It’s difficult not to become engaged because of the intensity with which the actors stare out at the audience.  An extremely moving play to watch, 1984 certainly doesn’t end on an upper.  It’s heavy and bleak and makes you slightly paranoid about looking into TV screens, but the strength of the performances and use of props and staging are a credit to the Green Room Productions team.

It’s been a good year for Lucy Walker with two of her documentaries seeing wide releases. The Waste Land won the Academy Award for Best Documentary. Her second this year, Countdown to Zero, is a didactic film championing nuclear disarmament.

BY MATTHEW MCKERNANThe documentary takes its cue from a quote  from a John F. Kennedy speech: “Every man, woman and child lives under a nuclear sword of Damocles, hanging by the slenderest of threads, capable of being cut at any moment by accident, or miscalculation, or by madness.” The film examines the nuclear arms question, divided into the three categories from the quote. It looks at the very real possibility of terrorists getting their hands on nuclear weapons, the ease with which nuclear holocaust can be wrought, and the many near misses that could have brought about the end of the world.

Countdown to Zero has a clear point which it repeatedly makes, leaving no room for quibbles and ambivalence. The problem is, that the film begins on a high pitch and has nowhere to go. It becomes almost hysterical, especially during the ‘near misses’ sequence towards the end or in its frequent close-ups on Robert Oppenheimer.

A voiceover describes what exactly would happen if a bomb hit a major city over images of New Year celebrations in Times Square. It is a haunting effect, but one that cannot help but feel entirely engineered by a clever editor who knows how to manipulate an audience. The film isn’t helped either by the fact that it is somewhat out of date, especially when it tries to suggest that we are still in danger from Osama Bin Laden, who was killed after the film was completed

Its very Western-centric outlook does not help either. Hiroshima and Nagasaki get very little attention despite being cities that have actually been hit by nuclear weapons.  Instead, it shows satellite footage of Western cities with 5-mile radius symbols to show the range of the destruction if a nuclear missile hit them.

More attention is paid to the deficiencies of other countries, snorting in derision at the old Soviet Union and its poor protection of nuclear material. One touching scene shows Khrushchev remarking on his sadness over the failed Reykjavik summit, which could have drastically reduced the numbers of nuclear weapons had it succeeded. When it comes to pointing the finger, the camera breezes over a newspaper headline that mentions that the failure was due to Reagan’s insistence that his Star Wars program would continue. Countdown to Zero ignores America’s culpability after this seeming slip and instead focuses on Khrushchev’s quilt.

Oddly, the end is almost triumphan, suggesting that the problem is nearly resolved with footage of Obama signing something that is not explained.  It fails to convince, seeming more like a decision from a banking perspective. This manages to undercut the tension and the horror that had been conveyed so well before.

With a powerful and important message, but with a form that shifts from an awkward how-to guide for prospective terrorists to manipulative melodrama, Countdown to Zero is a documentary that does not need to convince you, but somehow makes a hash out it anyway.

So you’ve just graduated from university, you’re excited and looking forward to the rest of your life, finally being a proper adult. But after the initial high, you realise you’re facing a string of rejections, unemployment, and the sad truth that the real world is a lot less rosy than it seemed as a child.

BY SAMANTHA TANThe simplest way to describe this is that it’s an adult version of Sesame Street, as it has a cast of both furry cute puppets and humans who interact seamlessly, four of the original cast members were performers on Sesame Street, and three of the puppets bear a striking resemblance to Bert, Ernie, and Cookie Monster.

But this not a family friendly show, as real-world problems of unemployment, the lack of a love life, being a child star, are dealt with through abundant profanity and puppet nudity.

The story follows two main characters (both puppets), Princeton and Kate Monster, who are young adults looking for their purpose in life. It also features the lives of their neighbours on Avenue Q, who range from a closeted gay investment banker, a laid-off caterer who secretly wants to be a comedian, to an Asian therapist called Christmas Eve. The musical was light, brutally honest – check out the hit song ‘Everyone’s a Little Bit Racist…’- and will leave tears of laughter streaming down your face.

Despite all the funny songs and bizarre predicaments the characters find themselves in, the underlying message was sent loud and clear. We’ve been told all our lives that if we really believe, we’d be able to achieve anything we want in life. Then we break into adulthood full of hopes and dreams, ready for the real world but nothing is as easy as it seems. Suddenly, we’re adrift in a sea of uncertainty and wondering to ourselves, just WHAT is our purpose in life?

Before it all gets too depressing though, Avenue Q promptly reminds us again, that we’re not alone. Life will come with its own problems of every kind, a line in the last song also reassures us that Jedward is only for now. Thankfully. But it is all temporary and there is a brighter day- we just need to stop stressing and let life roll off our backs!

Incendies, by Canadian filmmaker Denis Villeneuve, was nominated for the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar, losing out to Susanne Bier’s In A Better World. Set in and around the Israeli conflict, the film, not unlike Samuel Maoz’s fantastic Lebanon, considers the human effects of the conflict over the conflict itself.

BY MATTHEW MCKERNAN

The story follows two siblings (Mélissa Désormeaux-Poulin and Maxim Gaudette) as they journey to the Lebanon to uncover their dead mother’s (Lubna Azabal) past. She has left them two letters, one for their father and another for their brother, whom they did not know existed. As they try to deliver these letters, the film intercuts between them and their mother’s life as she moves from country girl to assassin to political prisoner.

The film is set in the midst of political upheaval. With its slow pace and its preoccupation with women in war-torn landscapes, a sense of loss is most prevalent. Violence is sporadic and filmed with an eye for realism rather than the exploitation of clearly engineered set-piece filmmaking. Trauma and memory are main themes and are dealt with respectfully.

Intriguingly, the film does not specify the location it is set in, creating an apolitical stance. It carefully avoids bias in any direction, preferring instead to remain a deeply personal work. Yet, the film is relatively slight in sentimentality for the majority of its running time. As for the performances, Lubna Azabal powerfully portrays a woman lost in the conflict and unsure of where she stands. Désormeaux-Poulin and Gaudette have the more thankless roles but are well equipped to make their characters much more than just mere ciphers.

Incendies refusesto be just another wartime melodrama. From its unspecified space and the out-of-place but strangely effective Radiohead music video sequences, the film tries to dodge categorization and the stagnancy of Oscar dramas. These touches do not always work but they are an interesting feature.

Unfortunately, the film comes to increasingly resemble a trashy melodrama with plot twists that change everything that has gone before. These twists are hopelessly contrived, though admittedly possible given the situation, and hamper the carefully low-key and human drama that has come before. They feel like a major third-act diversion, in which the film drops its themes and preoccupations for the sake of an emotional peak at the close. The film never really recovers and it is a real pity, downgrading the work to a ‘good’ film when it should have been ‘great.’

Though the film never recovers from its lapse into ‘TV Movie of the Week’ histrionics, it remains an interesting film where the landscape reflects the emotional journey. A sensitive work that never feels exploitative of its situation or characters, it engenders a feeling of good faith that sees it through its less successful moments.

Beautiful landscapes, a bizarre soundtrack and a wry sense of humour, teamed with a limited cast and an intriguing what-would-you-do style narrative makes for one of the most original films in recent years. How I Ended This Summer is a recent Russian film from director Aleksei Popogrebsky set entirely on a barren island in the Arctic Ocean.

BY MATTHEW MCKERNAN

Pavel (played with wide-eyed innocence by Grigory Dobrygin) is concluding his summer in an isolated weather research centre in the Arctic Ocean. He is alone but for the much older Sergei (played by Sergei Puskepalis), who is giving him training with the equipment. Pavel is bored and child-like, spending his days messing about and listening to rock music. Things get complicated when he intercepts a message for Sergei and fails to tell the older man the bad news. The relationship between the two men becomes fraught with tension, exacerbated by their isolation. Though largely a tragedy, the film is a darkly funny look at misunderstandings between two different generations played out in an inhabitable setting.

The characterization of Pavel is one of the many strong elements of the film. As played by Dobrygin, there is something very convincingly child-like about the character, though this is not overplayed. The film’s plot hinges on Pavel’s inability to pass a message on to Sergei, a device that could have been frustrating had the character’s plight been not so brilliantly defined.

The power of the film comes from its ability to show both sides of the relationship and the irreparable damage that can be done by a moment of mistiming or a simple misunderstanding. In the end, you sympathize with both characters and the events conclude in a manner that is both darkly humorous and heart-breakingly tragic. It perfectly sums up the attitude: “I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.”

The harsh landscape, which acts as both the catalyst for the action and a further complication in the drama, is brilliantly photographed. The filming is rife with difficultly, making director Popogrebsky appear as a younger Herzog as for both filming is akin to athletic prowess and both deliver films of surpassing beauty. The mountains and the oceans, the mists and the winds all act as characters in the film, like the heavies in a film noir, faceless but key to the film’s overall mood of claustrophobia.

How I Ended This Summer is a film that starts of with a simple and rather everyday situation that falls into chaos. One of its achievements is that the character’s movement from civilization to barbarism is never less than believable. As with many films of this type -  for example, The Wave and The Experiment - it does not simply jump suddenly for one to the other, but believably charts the descent as an ever-moving downward spiral. How I Ended This Summer, though a slightly overlong film, manages to sustain the tension within the characters and the suffocating isolation of the surrounding area throughout. As such, it is a very powerful film that speaks volumes about our world, if you want it to. Otherwise, it is a very good thriller.

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Mel Gibson plus hand puppet… and this is meant to be his great return since he went biblical.  That’s right, the man who decided that he never again wanted to use film as a means of just making money, he wanted to get his message across.  Never mind the huge money making successes that ‘The Passion of the Christ’ and ‘Apocalypto’ were, he’s returned to being in front of the camera and firmly positioned himself in centre stage with his new role.

BY LAURA SHEARER

Directed by Jodie Foster, and also starring Jodie Foster, ‘The Beaver’ sounded like another Hollywood backed and Hollywood made film, made in mind of the Academy Awards.  What’s really surprising is the seemingly endless list of backers at the opening credits, all of which are smaller film production companies and look more suited to independent film.  So what’s gone wrong in Hollywood that Gibson and Foster have had to turn to any means possible to fund their film? It’s very dark, so there’s a start.  Not something Hollywood likes to focus on or see too much of, unless it’s large scale disaster flicks with heroic events and lots of happy faces at the end when everything bad has been resolved.  If you’re expecting this, swap your tickets now.

Walter Black suffers from severe depression and he’s tried everything to get back on track.  When the pills, the therapy and the self-help books prove to be utterly useless, his wife Meredith decides it’s time to make a change and save what remains of her family.  Walter packs his life into his car and heads to a hotel, on his way dumping boxes in a bin outside a garage, where he picks up a beaver hand puppet.  After an unsuccessful suicide attempt, Walter seeks a new beginning with the beaver as his sole means of communicating with the world around him.  The beaver fixes things, life gets better and perhaps it’s even an improvement on Walter’s previous life.  Yet he’s still a middle aged man with a hand puppet who refuses to communicate otherwise.  Things take a turn for the worse and after a certain traumatic self inflicted incident, Walter finally gets the much needed help.

There is an element of comedy to the alter-ego of the beaver hand puppet, but it’s by no stretch of the audience’s imagination a hugely engaging performance from Gibson or Foster.  Relying on the clichés of family life, there’s nothing original about the narrative other than the situation of the hand puppet.  The beaver as a device and character merely becomes a way of exploring the already explored territory of family relationships and corporate professionalism.  Nothing new, nothing to see here, move along.

Bon Iver seems to be every hipsters dream. Everyone claims to have “heard him first”. Regardless of who heard him first, the 2008 album ‘For Emma, Forever Ago’ written and recorded by Justin Vernon was without doubt one of the most refreshing, innovative and independent records of the last century. Having released synth/electronic influenced EPs since playing festivals as monumental as Glastonbury, and partnering up with Kanye West, how could we expect to have a repeat performance? How many bands have fallen victim to the curse of the second album?

BY BRIAN MARTIN

Vernon can no longer hug the debut status but cleverly named this album in a typically debut-like fashion; self title, ‘Bon Iver’. The pitfalls and dangers of the second album seem ignored by Bon Iver who has created an album which carefully blends what he used to do, with what he wants to do now, in 2011, in a seamless fashion. However this wasn’t achieved in an intense period of studio time in New York. Instead Vernon, as laid back as can be, describes how he wanted to record in his low key hometown of Eua Claire, Wisconsin, because he ‘ felt free’ there. Vernon also mentioned how the use of guitar would not be his main outlet for musical expression, rather the use of keyboards etc. He said: ‘You know how you hear people talking about that magical guitar that wrote all their songs? That guitar’s run out of songs for me’. Magic guitar or not, Bon Iver has produced a stunning second album.

The album is perfectly organised. It opens with mangled guitars, distorted in the ideal fashion. We hear the reassuring and consistently brilliant vocals of Vernon, now more mastered and better recorded than ever before. We move onto ‘Minnesota, WI’, a newer sound, less like ‘For Emma…’ and with influences as modern as new band the ‘XX,’ within its guitars. This is the calm before the perfect storm – ‘Holocene’. The obvious second single has a beautiful acoustic rift backed by military drums and the slow, steady build up matching Justin Vernons patient laid back character. My personal favourite track is ‘Towers’. An oddly Americana/Tom Petty-ish sound bent with synth, which sounds like a recipe for disaster only for the capable hands of ‘Bon Iver’ to mould into a lovely mid-album gem. The latter songs on the album show progress on Vernon’s side. His influence and love of 80’s pop and ballad is evident by the new use of percussion, brass and Phil Collins-esq instrumentals. ‘Beth/Rest’, the concluding track, is leaving us all wanting more. It surpasses the electronic fuzz of the brilliant ‘Calgary’, and sounds like it could fit into any 80’s classic film, like ‘Uncle Buck’ or ‘Ferris Bueller’, but in a good way.

Justin Vernon (Bon Iver) is patient, he doesn’t rush things, nor does he wait for it all to happen. This is the careful, and often overlooked blend of character which is needed to make a second album work; not trying too hard, but not resting on the laurels of a first album success. This more rounded, better crafted and equally as emotional album is just what Bon Iver faithfuls need, as well as what Bon Iver virgins want.

BY LAURA SHEARER

The group of assassins are assembled to bring justice and restore the order that Lord Naritsugu has destroyed by his selfish and brutal climb to the top of the Shogun rule. Not far off the plot of Kurasawa’s ‘Seven Samurai’, we see the horrors that Lord Naritsugu has inflicted upon those in his path and the helpless that he has no mercy for.  This is all with a Miike twist of course.  Involving some brutal death scenes, lots of completely honest seeming revelations of torture and naturally lots of blood, when one of the samurai comments that ‘this village will be a bloodbath’ he’s literally not lying.  Not for the faint hearted, this is a samurai film with extraordinary vision.

At the heart of the film are the central themes to most samurai features.  Honour, courage and loyalty are themes anybody can relate to and themes most people would link with their knowledge of the samurai feature.  Miike’s decision to maintain these ideals upholds something of the tradition that began in the 1940s with the samurai film master Akira Kurasawa.  To be honest, the narrative has upheld the best elements of these themes and used them to dramatic advantage.

Set in 19^th Century Japan, the film has a very classical feel to it.  Great attention to detail is placed in the recreation of the Edo period of Japan.  Miike’s choice to keep the narrative within this timeframe is both wise and inspiring, as he could well have taken a very different route and made a modern conversion of the samurai plot in say modern Tokyo.  The set designs and landscapes are beautiful and eloquent with a real sensation of nostalgia for ancient Japan.  The cinematography doesn’t ever make light of this aspect, often creating a few seconds of still frame for the audience to enjoy the luxury of the scenery.  Looking at any of the media releases of images from the film, it’s clear that the cinematography is justifiably indulgent in the fabulous sets.

It’s not the samurai epic in run time as it could have been so hardcore samurai fans may feel a little cheated, but there’s plenty crammed into every shot to make even the most critical walk away satisfied.  Those new to Japanese cinema will have their eyes opened wide by the glory that is this feature.  It’s a huge achievement for Miike and there’s not a single sequence that’s less than instantly impressive.  As much as I feel it must be seen on the big screen to get the full impact, it’s going to be in DVD collections the world over in no time.  ’13 Assassins’ is a sure fire winner for anybody who loves period features, blood and battles, or even just a well written, steady moralistic plot.  The success it’s already enjoyed doesn’t seem enough to evaluate the brilliance.

‘Julia’s Eyes’ is the second Spanish horror film to come with the ‘Presented By’ label from Guillermo del Toro, following the huge success of fantastic gothic chiller ‘The Orphanage’, which also starred Belén Rueda. ‘Julia’s Eyes’ is a suspense-thriller with something that many recent horror films don’t have: characters.

BY MATTHEW MCKERNAN

The film follows Julia (Rueda), a woman who is progressively losing her eyesight due to a degenerative disease. She stumbles upon the body of her dead sister Sara, who had gone blind already due to the same disease. Sara seems to have committed suicide, but Julia is unconvinced, and mounts an investigation into her sister’s death. Though the police and her husband Isaac (Lluís Homar) remain sceptical, she continues. Coming to believe that a strange and unseen presence is watching over her. As her eyesight deteriorates, the dangers that lurk in the shadows come out to attack.

Director Guillem Morales imbues the film with a similar mystery format to ‘The Orphanage’, but this film uses an entirely different aesthetic, recalling primarily the thrillers of Alfred Hitchcock and Italian giallo films (for example, the work of Mario Bava or Dario Argento). Several scenes revolve entirely around a sinister prop, not unlike the bag of money in ‘Psycho’, and the mysterious man wears black gloves, a giallo staple. In fact, in one scene in which the man is chased down a dark corridor by Julia and a line of flickering fluorescent lights, Morales manages to outdo anything by Argento. The camerawork is frequently impressive, especially towards the end in which a variety of characters move about without their faces ever being shown. As well as this the film has a couple of inventive scares along the way. Stylistically, the film is a great success, making it a very exciting and entertaining thriller.

However, the characters are the film’s most important calling cards. For a start, you care about what will happen to Julia. Belén Rueda delivers another powerful and completely convincing performance that refuses to be shaped and diluted by the otherworldly goings-on in the film. Homar, who plays her loving husband, complements her very well. Their relationship is conveyed in a very tender way, making these people adults rather than fodder to a twisting plot…for the most part.

Unfortunately, as the film progresses, it does try too hard to surprise, adding a few too many twists and turns to a plot that doesn’t need them. The characters fall into cipher mode to accommodate a few not particularly surprising moments and it all threatens to fall apart. Thankfully, the film doesn’t go too far down this road, recovering for a fairly touching ending.

‘Julia’s Eyes’ is a rollicking and exciting film, which doesn’t overstay its welcome long enough to tarnish the whole experience. It is a highly entertaining film with eye-catching visuals and real people that are worth caring about. Things get silly but the film remains a good thriller with a powerful atmosphere, made with genuine skill and heart.

We all know that story of the small town band that gets noticed on YouTube and makes it big. Boyce Avenue are the latest band in this trend. However, they are not just another name to add to the ever-expanding list!  The band deliver fresh acoustic sound and songs with real sentimental meaning. They embody what all music should be in this time of dance and techno takeover!

BY CHRISTOPHER SHARKEY

Opening the show in the Mandela Hall, were two You-Tube “claim to fame” artists who are slowly gaining the same popularity that Boyce Avenue  achieved through the site. The opening song set the scene for what this night would be about – acoustic sessions. Keywest Ireland, a band who I had never heard until this show, delivered a strong performance reminiscent of early John Mayer. But sadly, it was nothing new to the ears.  Although fans of the genre will no doubt anticipate the release of their first album later this year.

Following Keywest Ireland was newcomer Nick Howard. Being a loyal Howard fan from the early days, when YouTube was just a baby and not clustered with as many ads as the TV, I was very excited about this performance and oh did it deliver. Starting with a cover of Adele’s ‘Someone Like You’ I was nervous that the song would lose some of its emotion without a piano and strong female vocals; but instead Howard’s soft voice and natural ability brought it to a whole new level, winning over the crowd. Following with ‘Falling For You’, the debut single from his new album, Howard won over the hearts of the teenage-girl fan base by singing about falling in love. Anyone who listens to this song can tell this man is going places, and let’s hope he does! A special shout out to Howard for staying to meet the fans after the show, and yes, I got a photo to put on my bed side locker.

Finally, the big moment came, marked by deafening screams that filled Mandela hall. The three brothers of Boyce Avenue ran across stage to greet their screaming fans. There was no better way to start the performance than with a famous cover, which is how the band was first discovered! So as their lead singer, Alejandro, asked if I had ever felt like a plastic bag a confused viewer suddenly realised what was going on. The atmosphere became electric as ‘Firework’ by Katy Perry belted out. The entire crowd was singing along in praise for the band. Boyce Avenue took a good approach with their set list, a mixture of covers and their own material. The crowd seemed to respond more to the covers, mainly due to familiarity with the famous artists, but their own material had such a powerful and personal message that it moved the crowd. Such songs as ‘Brianne,’ that relied less on acoustic guitar and had more of a focus on electric and piano, were so touching the crowd remained silent during the performance with an outburst of steady applause at the end.

The band took their time to explain the meaning behind their original songs and particularly with ‘Brianne,’ the message was highly emotive. ‘Brianne’ is about the untold words between a husband and wife after a suicide, the song is very powerful. The performance went on with songs such as ‘Broken Angel’ and ‘Find Me’ in which the band use slow guitar and heartfelt lyrics. These pleased the crowd, but at times it did seem like the same song was on repeat. Don’t be mistaken in thinking this is a one-trick wonder band of slow paced songs and soppy lyrics. Songs such as ‘Tonight’ and ‘As The Lights Die’ bring out the bands electric funk side. These songs had more of a good quality feel and once these songs were presented Boyce Avenue had found their comfort within the crowd by mixing crowd pleasers, famous covers and moving songs. “You guys are crazy,” shouted Alejendro at the crowd as the beats of the Cajon began- a musical instrument most fans will be familiar with while first timers will be left thinking, “Why is he playing with his seat?” So as the words “I throw my hands up in the air sometimes” echoed through Mandela Hall, that’s exactly what we did. The song ‘Dynamite’ would be the best of the set, as the crowd became explosive with movement, jumping and screaming!

So as the night came to a close and the band departed the stage the screaming once again began which could mean only one thing… ENCORE! To close the show Boyce Avenue did what they did best and stuck to famous covers. As ‘Wonderwall’ filled the Hall the audience sang in sync with the band. In comparison with their next song ‘Back For Good,’ it was clear the male members of the audience were trying to maintain some dignity but it was clear that everyone knew the words of the Take That classic which Boyce Avenue did more than justice too.

Boyce Avenue will definitely have a future in music and I will be following them eagerly. This band is inspiring, to think how far they have come from posting videos on YouTube to touring Europe. Let’s just hope they continue to do what they do best, make original music that touches the hearts of their most loyal fans to first time listeners!