The National Student Magazine - December 2008

December 2008

CAGE THE ELEPHANT

Crimbo Telly ...and beyond

Shooting Stars BBC Two

Gavin and Stacey

Fifteen years ago, we’d never heard of the Dove From Above or had the pleasure of (man with the scores) George Dawes’ percussive talents… oh those were dark days. Hosted by Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer, Shooting Stars was piloted on BBC Two in December 1993 and went on to run for five series, becoming a multi-award-winning, world-wide hit. In celebration of this most obtuse of panel shows we’re treated to a night of Shooting Stars silliness (Tuesday 30) beginning with a documentary with unseen sketches and outtakes followed by brand new special edition of the show with Jack Dee assuming the role of grumpy team captain.

BBC One

It’s Christmas Eve and the Wests join the Shipmans for one of Mick’s famous turkey dinners, as the warmhearted award-winning Gavin & Stacey completes its ascendancy with a first broadcast on BBC One. Having begun tucked snugly away on BBC Three, the speed with which this delicious sitcom has moved into the schedules of the primary channel is testament to its marvellous appeal. There’s a little bit of tension between Smithy and Nessa over baby Neil’s first Christmas and Jason and Bryn have a heart-to-heart about “that” fishing trip.

Peter Kay Channel 4

He’s officially the nation’s favourite comedian, and probably even more popular now that he’s developed a habit of winding up Simon Cowell. Channel 4 will be gushing over Peter Kay this Christmas with another chance to see Britain’s Got The Pop Factor… and a new retrospective follow-up spoof Britain’s Got an Extra Pop Factor and Then Some which will feature Geraldine McQueen’s Christmas single; ‘Once Upon A Christmas Song’. Plus Peter Kay: Raider of the Pop Charts is a two part documentary following the story of Kay’s chart hits.

The Royle Family – The New Sofa BBC One

Two years on from our last (rather tearful) visit to the family, we join Jim, Barbara, Denise and Dave for a bit of square-eyed festivity. Twiggy turns up too with a bit of Christmas cheer, but poor old Antony is stuck babysitting for Denise and Dave; “Well, it’s not a day for kids, is it – Christmas?”

TV Burp Review of the Year ITV1

Criminally short at a mere half hour, the xmas day special gives the (award winning) TV Burp team the excuse to use some of their most loved and most random clips from the past year. Expect a hefty amount of soap oddities and plenty of surprise appearances from telly favourites, Dermot might even turn up for a hug.

Celebrity Ding Dong A Christmas celebrity battle between Panto Goodies and Panto Baddies. The ‘Goodies’ team are Adele Silva as Alice Fitzwarren from Dick Whittington, Paul Daniels as Baron Hardup from Cinderella, Debra Stephenson as Aladdin, and team captain Barbara Windsor as the Fairy Godmother. The ‘Baddies’ are Claire Sweeney as the Wicked Queen from Snow White, John Thomson as Captain Hook from Peter Pan, Michelle Collins as the Wicked Step Mother from Cinderella and team captain Joe Pasquale as Smee the pirate from Peter Pan.

Top Of The Pops is dead… Long live Top Of The Pops! You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone, and the public were crying out for the traditional Top Of The Pops Christmas special when it was announced it was going to be scrapped. Even Simon Cowell offered to rescue it from the brink, which is ironic considering he’s single-handedly responsible for killing all the fun and competition of the Christmas Number 1. Reggie and Fearne will take us through the year in pop and dutifully announce that the X Factor winner has topped the charts, while your curmudgeonly relatives mutter about music and fashion in the background. Classic Christmas fare!

Channel 4

Seasonal edition of her entertainment show, featuring celebrity guests, music, comedy sketches and hidden camera stunts. Adding Christmas sparkle to the proceedings are legendary comedian Ronnie Corbett, Gavin and Stacey’s James Corden and Ruth Jones, and comic Jo Brand. Rhydian from last year’s X-Factor lends a hand with the music.

Big Fat Quiz of the Year Channel 4

Crooked House BBC Four

BBC One

The Charlotte Church Nutcracking Christmas Special

It’ll be interesting how they play this. It’s made by Jonathan Ross’ production company and usually features him and Russell Brand. They’ll no doubt, sadly, be conspicuous in their absence this year… but even if they’re not taking part they’ll certainly be one of the questions – and some more of Jonathan Ross’ mates will be drafted in to fill the gaps. Jimmy Carr returns as host, unless he puts his foot in it in the meantime! This has only been going for a few years but it’s established itself as a bit of a traditional favourite and an assured night of belly laughs.

Channel 4

Top of the Pops

It’s a ghostly Christmas this year on BBC Four with Crooked House, a haunting tale of three spine-chilling ghost stories, written by and starring Mark Gatiss. Crooked House, which is shot in HD - clarity fans, features a great cast including mentalist Derren Brown (a friend of Gatiss’) in his debut dramatic role. The discovery of an old door-knocker in his garden leads school teacher Ben (Lee Ingleby) on a journey through the history of Geap Manor with the Curator (Mark Gatiss). Over three nights (Monday 22 – Wednesday 24) the stories unfold and they’re shown together as one film on Saturday 27.

Doctor Who - The Next Doctor BBC One

It’s Christmas Eve in 1851 and Cybermen are stalking the snowy streets of Victorian London when The Doctor meets… The Doctor! This Doctor Who Christmas special was revealed to be titled ‘The Next Doctor’ just as David Tennant announced his forthcoming departure from the show, but rest assured, David Morrisey’s Doctor is not going to be as straightforward as that. We’ve still got a few specials to look forward to with David Tennant in the role before he hands over the Tardis key (to Paterson Joseph if the rumours are to be believed) but don’t expect Russell T Davies to shy away from toying with the audience a fair bit in the mean time. Enemies come in the form of Dervla Kirwan as the ruthless Miss Hartigan with her ‘knights in shining armour’ the Cybermen and spooky newcomers; the Cybershades.

Jonathan Creek – The Grinning Man BBC One

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Dancing On Ice At Christmas ITV1

So called because it’s got people dancing… on ice… at Christmas… do you see? Dancing On Ice is to Strictly Come Dancing what Primeval is to Doctor Who; a rather deplorable and cynical attempt to play catch-up after the BBC had a good idea that worked. It’s practically programming plagiarism, or at least a very unsubtle copying of someone else’s exam answers. The BBC’s idea to do a Christmas special of Strictly Come Dancing worked really well too, so surprise surprise here comes the first ever Dancing On Ice Christmas special. It’s a show that’s unafraid of piling gimmick upon gimmick (Dancing On Wires… Above Ice) so this special pits Torvill against Dean as past contestants return to the ice.

Strictly Come Dancing Christmas Special BBC One

Strictly Come Dancing has become a bit of a behemoth frankly. It’s the best selling TV format in the world, more popular than X Factor (well it got more votes at the NTA’s anyway) and has even reached the lofty heights of having Jeremy Paxman turn up to a press conference. This special will bring back celebrity contestants from previous series along with some special performances. Chances are we’ll get some John Sergeant comedy gold too. As usual Brucie will shine whilst visibly withering with doddery brilliance and Tess ‘dead behind the eyes’ Daly will continue to baffle viewers with her unfathomable fakery… I think she thinks people like her!?!

Top Gear BBC Two

Alan Davies dons the duffle coat once more as the lateral thinking inventor of magical illusions solving mysteries on the side. Sheridan Smith assumes the role of sceptical sidekick. When Creek is called in to solve unexplained events in a vast Gothic house following several disappearances from a gloomy old attic known as The Nightmare Room, Creek is completely baffled. Seventy years on from the first disappearance, the room continues to claim lives. Can the ghost of a madman who preys upon human flesh really be to blame? When two young women take shelter in the attic from a raging thunderstorm, it’s not long before the ominous “presence” has claimed another victim.

Wallace and Gromit BBC One

The plasticine pals are back with a new adventure; A Matter of Loaf and Death. Weirdly though, someone has seen fit to schedule it for 8.30pm, slapped carelessly between two editions of Eastenders… Which simply doesn’t make any sense at all! This is clearly borne from the fact that Curse of the Were-Rabbit is showing at 4.30pm and they don’t want them too close together but 8.30pm is hardly family viewing time even at Christmas! Never mind, at least it won’t clash with the nap!

Top Gear ends the current series in epic style as Jeremy Clarkson, Richard Hammond and James May travel to Vietnam. Their aim is to travel the entire length of the country in just eight days, thereby achieving what the American military failed to do in 10 years. However, first they must each buy some suitable transport for the trip and, despite having several million Dong in their pockets, this proves to be of rather less value than they originally thought, especially in one of the most expensive car markets in the world. Nonetheless, the boys are resourceful and, with their wheels finally sorted, they set off on one of the most spectacular and incredible Top Gear road trips ever attempted.

Celebrity Big Brother Skins E4

They’re a brave lot who make Skins. They had a very good cast with enormous popularity and they just went and got another lot in. It’s an assured move for sure, but it’s also exactly right for the programme… but I’m really gonna miss Posh Kenneth. The Skins Class of 2009 is headed up by Tony’s sister, the beautiful and mysterious Effy (Kaya Scodelario); enigmatic and elusive as ever. She’s joined by best friend Pandora (Lisa Backwell) who holds the gang together, twins Katie and Emily who are pulling in different directions, and idealist Naomi who is passionate and political. The new boys; we’ve got the irrepressible and irresponsible Cook (Jack O’Connell – This Is England, Eden Lake) heading up the new squad, with weedsmoking, skateboarding Freddie. Plus there’s very cool JJ the master illusionist, and Thomas from the Congo!! As far as the ‘adults’ are concerned, series three features return guest appearances from Harry Enfield, Morwenna Banks and Geoffrey Hughes, plus new guest actors including Mackenzie Crook, Sally Phillips and Radio 1 DJ Scott Mills!

Channel 4, E4

You can keep your jungle bugs and your dancing, Celebrity Big Brother is the daddy and it’s back... Hooray, thank goodness..! Oh CBB, we missed you while you were gone. The celebrities themselves won’t be revealed until the day they enter the house (Friday January 2) and all the early press release reveals is that they’re ‘notable’. The casting isn’t even worth speculating upon but the tabloids have been bubbling away with rumours for months. Be in no doubt that the BB producers will have a few humdingers up their sleeves on launch night. On top of the tabloid frenzy, impromptu scandals and jaw-dropping casting, all the other BB ingredients will be in place; Davina, Marcus Bentley, Big Mouth, and Little Brother (but without Zezi this time thank gawd!).

E G CA THE NT A H P E EL Interview by Thomas Meek

“

Could you imagine being on the road at 16?” Frankly, Lincoln Parish, I can’t. But this was the reality for the lead guitarist of Kentucky’s best non-fried export, Cage the Elephant – a band trampling the UK live circuit with their dirty, rock ‘n’ roll blues that has brought comparisons to The Rolling Stones and Rage Against the Machine. “It was different,” explains Parish, all too aware that his situation took him out of the tortuous teen malaise, thrusting him out into the world. “It’s like you’re already on your own at that age. But I feel like I’m a lot stronger now because of that, and because I’ve got to see the world and see so many different perspectives on things. I mean, if you live in the same place in the same town for the rest of your life, then what do you know?” Wise words from a guy who, at 18, has already seen more of the world than most of his countrymen ever will, yet still can’t get a drink when he goes back home. “That’s what they make fake IDs for!” enthuses Parish excitably when the subject comes up, before taking out two driver’s licenses baring two faces with similar facial hair, but little else. “Tennessee?” I enquire, noticing the state of origin, aware of the band’s Kentucky roots. “Yeah, I live in Nashville now. But it’s only 45-minutes from where we’re from, Bowling Green.” But why the move? Perhaps Parish’s description of his home state holds some clues. “It’s real bible belt, Jesus worshiping, George Bush loving red necks,” offers the Obama voter, clearly pleased with his new life on the road. Despite the obvious criticism it is the religious unity of their home town that bought the band together. “We all grew up with the same spiritual background, and we all relate to each other in that sense,” tells Parish. “It was all strict Christianity and going to church every Sunday.” It was even stricter for band mates, brothers Matt and Brad Schultz, as well as bassist Daniel Tichenor, who spent their childhood in more unusual circumstances. “They all grew up on this hippy Christian commune thing,” says Parish, with an accomplished vagueness. “And that’s how they knew each other. Tichenor was actually born on this farm. It was just in the middle of nowhere – this pig farm. And the people who lived there, they were all just trying to figure out their spiritual path I guess.” With such a strong religious influence in their childhood, it’s no surprise to hear talk of ‘saints’, ‘sinners’ and the casting of stones in latest single, ‘In One Ear.’ But how much of a part does Jesus still play in the band’s lives? “Personally I believe in God,” admits Parish, with unflinching belief “but I don’t believe in religion per se. It’s hard to explain, because growing up like we did, we all have a feeling together. But we don’t practice religion together.” “Our parents are still religious, but they have loosened up a bit. They are all still, and always have been, super, super supportive though, and never told us not to do it. I mean I’ve been on the road since I was 15. What other parents would let their kid do that?” With the band starting so young, Parish’s experiences of a regular working life have been limited to say the least. “I worked in a retail store called Buckle back home, but that was only a couple of months because the manager boss lady just pissed me off cos she was being a bitch or whatever, and I was just ‘I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore.’” “I just bullshitted her, and said I was too

busy with the music right now, and a couple of months later, we were already on the road.” And the momentum has been unstoppable especially on these shores where we seem to have truly released the caged beast. For Parish the UK is the height of musical cool. “From the beginning, all the bands we looked up to broke out in the UK first. It’s easy to tour around and build up a buzz. Plus America looks over here to see what’s cool.” Getting used to the rigmarole of becoming a success in Britain was something that

artists we’ve really never heard before like Gang of Four and The Pixies, and newer bands like Foals. The stuff that isn’t big in the states, so coming over here has opened up a whole new set of influences. It’s not like our next album will be Entertainment! (Gang of Four’s classic debut album), but it will be a lot more rounded than the first album.” And, if Parish has his way, there won’t be too long to wait for that next album, or indeed any album that follows. “We’re going into the studio in January,

“That’s bullshit to take three or four years to release an album. If it takes three years to write 11 songs, then what are you doing here?” confused the band at first. “It’s weird, because we have Jay Leno and David Letterman and Saturday Night Live and they’re all big fucking deals in the states. But coming to UK and being on Jools Holland, we don’t know how big things like that are until we actually do it. And getting to do Jools Holland with Coldplay, that was just amazing.” Plus UK experience has even given them an education in music they may never have had back in the home of Colonel Sanders “Living over here, we’ve been exposed to

with a hope to release the record next summer. We want to try put out albums quickly. I mean ideally, it’d be every six months.” “Each album is a picture in time of who you are and you’re always changing as a person. That’s bullshit to take three or four years to release an album. If it takes three years to write 11 songs, then what are you doing here?” Despite this hard work in the studio, there’s still an unnerving, near reckless aura of fun that seems to surround the band wherever

they go, best highlighted perhaps by the decision to post one of the band’s mobile phone numbers on their MySpace just days before Reading Festival. “That phone was going off all day,” explains Parish, with a wry smile, him fondly remembering the day’s events. The “girls calling and saying ‘come to my tent’” may have been just cause for such happy reminiscence. Such dalliances tend to stem from the popularity of being in a band in the spotlight, and Parish is refreshing in his views on the rock star’s search for celebrity. “I think you’d be full of shit if you said you weren’t looking for that whole fame thing. First and foremost, it’s about the music, but at the same time we wouldn’t be playing all over the UK if we didn’t think we were going anywhere with it.” And this ‘anywhere’ for Parish is an ambitious one. “In 10 years, we want to be playing stadiums. We want a career in this. We want to last like the Stones – 70-years-old and still playing shows.” For most 18-year-olds, life at 70 is too far away to even contemplate. Parish has a plan though, and behind the aesthetic chaos, Cage the Elephant are one of the most forward thinking, hard-working bands around. They won’t stop until Kentucky’s most famous animal has a trunk instead of feathers.

cagetheelephant.com

T

s n i g r i V e Th

he window of opportunity to say ‘I was into The Virgins before they were big’ is closing fast, the newwave New Yorkers have truly penetrated 2008 as a buzz-band on the lips of the hip-parade. Currently on tour in the UK with the Pigeon Detectives the band’s life is “hectic”, so much so that the their email interview exchange with The National Student was contained largely of one word answers and minimal information. Still they say they are “having a lot of fun doing tourist stuff.” The five-piece consisting of Erik Ratensperger, Donald Cumming, Wade Oates, Nick Zarin-Ackerman and Paul Vassallo formed in 2005 in NYC after one of art-photographer Ryan McGinley’s photo-shoots. They say they got together because, “We hang out together so much we needed a good reason.” The band have an undeniably arty background, they are considered a muse for some time Vice magazine snapper McGinley, most lauded for his shots of carousing, naked twentysomethings and having a shot on the cover of Sigur Ros’ last album. Cumming’s private parts also featured in a shot displayed at one of his exhibitions. They are a band that once made tshirts with “dicks on them” that were then bootlegged on eBay. Cummings states that the band were formed out of the frustration of no one reading any of his writing or poetry, so he

decided to put it to music. Despite these artistic leanings The Virgins’ sound is less ambitious – they aren’t so much reinventing the new-wave wheel but keeping it spinning. The band’s assertion that they sound like ‘loud noises’ is a little off the mark, as there is a definite pop-sheen to their

bauchery casts of dark shadow of the summery nature of the bands music… this is the classic New York sound, street tales put to funky tunes. In the US the momentum of the Virgin disco-punk machine has been gathering pace amidst a couple of years of crazy hype, their cross-over appeal between

“The kids are fucking crazy here. Fizzy juice and beer. The shows have been really fun us.” angular post-punk ditties – they are the accessible, palatable end of genre like Talking Heads jamming with Duran Duran at a Disco club. But if the adage ‘if it ain’t broke don’t fix it’ ever applied to any band, it’s The Virgins…their familiar sounds are almost part of indie-fans DNA. It’s not challenging but it will get you shaking your tailfeather - which is always a good thing. The band say they’d like to sound like “Cherry Coke”- well they already have a certain fizz so that kinda makes sense. Tales of sex, drugs and general de-

the arty indie-hipster set and swooning teeny-boppers cemented with their tuneage adorning schmaltzy, vacuous teen-drama Gossip Girl and prime-time HBO show Entourage. Their self-titled major label debut LP released over the summer caused a stir gaining critical acclaim left right and centre. Featuring international hit ‘Rich Girls’ with it’s disco-punk cool and the NYC punk-swagger meets synth-pop stylings of ‘One Week of Danger’ it is easy to see why. As a debut it is polished and accomplished enough to sell but rough-

enough to remain hip. And so here they are in the UK with indie-faves the Pigeon Detectives ready to win over the hearts of the country’s indiekids. Live their pedigree is high having supported amongst others Sonic Youth and punk-legend Patti Smith, which indicates they must be doing something right…in that company the fact they have also supported rock-revival dullards Jet becomes of little consequence. The band describe their live gigs as ‘loud’ and reckon you should attend because “You’ll have a better chance of getting laid.” Their sets have certainly been getting UK crowds in to a lather, as they say “The kids are fucking crazy here. Fizzy juice and beer. The shows have been really fun for us.” And the fact that they are returning to the US for a winter tour after finishing on these shores is about the last of the useful information garnered from rock’s least talkative band. At this point I could spin out the tired cliché that The Virgins don’t need to speak much as the music speaks for itself…but that would be lame. Instead the end will come with two nuggets of Virgin-wisdom: “Don’t stick anything in your ear bigger than your elbow.” “Duck fat is good for you.”

thevirgins.net

Reviews The Gentle Good While You Slept, I Went Out Walking (Gwymon Records)

33333 In many ways, The Gentle Good could be the Welsh Mull Historical Society. There’s a shared story of the one man band making very personal music, all of which earns adoration from critics and broadcasters in their homeland, yet never quite grasping the attention of the rest of a discerning British audience. Where Gareth Bonello, under the guise of The Gentle Good, differs from Colin MacIntyre (aka Mull Historical Society) is in his style, choosing a delicate folk blend of finger-picking guitar, cello and harp that doesn’t quite match MacIntyre’s power pop tendencies. The quality is just as high though, with Bonello’s voice a tender beauty that is graceful in English, yet even more intimately exquisite when singing in Welsh. For Bonello does follow the lead of such compatriots as Gruff Rhys and Cerys Matthews, with some blissful accounts of

unknown (to these ears) quantities that really need no understanding to appreciate. The title is easier enough to make sense of though, and encapsulates what this album exists for. It’s the soundtrack to sleep, lulling and gentle, yet perfect for a crisp morning walk through leaves and frost, as your nose stings and you pull your jacket tighter, but ultimately couldn’t care for anything more. Just mind the hedgehogs. by Thomas Meek

Jesse Malin Mercury Retrograde: Live in New York City (One Little Indian)

33333

33333 It’s a harsh question to ask, but just what is the point of this album? And more significantly what is the point of Jesse Malin? Surely the world has enough male singer-songwriters, with a touch of whisky in their voice and a flaccid opinion of Western government eager to get off their chest? And there’s probably (actually make that ‘definitely’) a good few better than Jesse Malin with their own derivative live albums to flog. Malin’s attempt though is competent of course, with a piano, acoustic guitar and female backing offering a less pained version of what one might expect at a Ryan Adams’ show. But ultimately, it’s let down by a lack of songwriting quality. No matter what the arrangement or setting, ‘On the Radio’ will be self-indulgent whimsy, that fails to ignite the meaning it

Darren Hayman &The Secondary Modern Pram Town (Track and Field) January 30 2009

33333 Ahhhh…Darren Hayman. In this period of uncertainty, we can always rely on Mr Hayman to turn out another indie-pop gem of an album. Pram Town, his tenth album since the demise of Hefner cements him as one of Britain’s best and most underrated songwriters. He

Guns n Roses Chinese Democracy (Geffen)

longs for, and ‘Cigarettes and Violets’ will never amount to any more adoring description than that of ‘Rufus Wainwright reject’. Forget the songs though, and this album still rankles, with contrived opinion on Bush and how to listen to music that only further Malin’s vacuity in purpose. For (surely easily impressed) fans, it may offer some enjoyment for single figure listenings, but with so much music out there, others may be advised in pleasures elsewhere. by Thomas Meek simply gets more accomplished and insightful with every release. Like Ray Davies and Morrissey before him Hayman loves England, not in a blindly patriotic, violent way but in a nostalgic, slightly sarcastic way, his socially satirical odes ooze optimism, hope and make being British seem like the most wonderful thing in the world. Musically he has taken the folky direction of his other recent efforts, adding to the musical melting-pot a cornucopia of instruments to create multi-layered, intricate pop tunes laden with complexity but instantly likeable and catchy. This really is great pop music. Pram Town’s lo-fi production may not charm the masses but deserves to be hailed as a minor classic – the guy is a jewel in England’s musical crown and this is his best yet. by David Merkow

Where to start with Chinese Democracy? Guns N Roses’ (or Axl and friends) long-awaited LP is not a normal album, it is a mythological beast. Frankly I’m as astounded by its very existence, as I would be if I’d just laid-eyes on the Minotaur. 13 years in the making; taking in an army of players and costing enough to fund a small country Chinese Democracy has a back-story not heard since Brian Wilson’s ill-fated Smile album – as a legend it has the potential to blow rock history apart. As echoing atmospherics give way to opener ‘Chinese Democracy’s stabbing licks the anticipation for a full-on rock explosion is massive, but that’s the albums excitement high-point as it limps and fizzles out. The metaphorical lead-weight around Chinese Democracy’s neck is that Rose has spent years exploring new influences and his own capabilities taking cues from rock and metal to keep the sound fresh, but this has achieved little more than an outdated amalgamation of the genres high-points. Guns N Roses (once one of the most exciting bands on the planet) have become ‘just another

band’ to ignore. In 1995 (or 1998, or 2000, or even 2003) this would have carried on the GnR legacy in style, but now as an irrelevant 2008 release Mr Rose has confined that legacy to the joke books. For the few incendiary moments, like the walls of guitar and blistering beats on hard-rock juggernaut ‘Scraped’, the Jane’s Addiction-alike (but without the flair) ‘Riad N The Bedouins’ and the Korn-meets-goth industrialism of ‘Shacklers Revenge’, there are as many moments of perplexing crapness. The sickly pop-balladry of ‘Street of Dreams’ could have been made by any MOR pop-clone and makes the atrocious ‘November Rain’ look like a highpoint in rock history and why Rose saw coffeetable acid-jazz as a suitable copy-point for ‘If the World’ is anyone’s guess! ‘This is Love’ for all it’s musical and lyrical insight could have been lifted straight from some soppy, meaningless moment of self-pity in High School Musical. For those rock ‘fans’ who never liked rock before GnR and have absconded from the genre awaiting their return Chinese Democracy must sound mindblowingly fresh, but for the rest of us it is an irrelevant, substance-less pastiche of rock music. The only problem is that Axl doesn’t see the joke, and the only people laughing are laughing at him and not with him. Chinese Democracy is bland, inoffensive and non-descript – it is the musical equivalent of beige. by Chris Marks

Find more reviews, interviews and the magazine writers album picks of 2008 online:

thenationalstudent.co.uk/music

Choke Out Now

33333 Fight Club. There, I said it. The makers of Choke would prefer to be considered separately from the 1999 smash, but the fact is this is unquestionably a Chuck Palahniuk film, and remarkably only the second screen adaptation of one of his novels. From the offset Palahniuk’s style is evident and some familiar territory is trodden. In first person voiceover we’re introduced to Victor (Sam Rockwell), a loser and sex addict on a spiral of selfdestruction. Meanwhile, his senile mother (Anjelica Huston) is in a mental hospital, which he pays for by subsidising his job in a colonial theme park with a unique con trick – deliberately choking himself in restaurants and picking the most affluent people in the room to save him. The angle being once someone saves your life they feel responsible for it, and flood him with money. His only hope for redemption comes in the form of his mother’s doctor (Kelly MacDonald) for whom Victor finds himself feeling more than pure lust. A feeling that manifests itself with him unable to perform when the inevitable prospect of sex presents itself. Writer/Director Clark Gregg competently handles the adaptation process, remaining

Che: Part One January 2

33333 The tagline adorning the posters for Steven Soderbergh’s sprawling biopic of the Argentine-born fifties revolutionary suggests that “everyone knows the icon” that is Che, but “few know the man”, the implication being that, following the film, the audience will have a much greater understanding of the symbolic leader, along with the militant moncadista and recently retired president, Fidel Castro, of the 1950s Cuban Marxist-Leninist revolution. However, despite the fact that Soderbergh’s film is watchable, and that Benicio del Toro inhabits the skin of Ernesto “Che” Guevara with a commendable commitment to authenticity (that nonetheless perhaps crushes a little too much of the humanity of Che’s personality in its efforts to portray the iron-willed disciplinarian and machista that were equally a part of his character) and maintains his innately fascinating screen presence, we are left at the end of this first instalment feeling equally distanced from this giant of military and ideological history, and perhaps even a little more disorientated than we were before. It is a little unfair to pass wholesale judgments on the project having only seen the first half, and perhaps by the end of

true to the spirit of the novel without adhering too closely to the letter (and he puts in a scene stealing support performance himself). Choke is dark, cynical, and twistedly funny. It contains all the best elements of Palahniuk’s previous adapted work, wrapped up in an off-kilter, maladjusted love story – and perhaps here is where it doesn’t quite work. Where Ed Norton’s downtrodden everyman easily connected with every bored and despondent member of the white collar workforce, it’s harder to get to grips with Rockwell’s character. Tainted by a long history of developmental damages, revealed throughout the story in flashback to build a full picture of how he got to where he is at the start of the film, these new pieces of the puzzle slamming into place are ultimately jarring and obstruct the audience from piecing things together themselves and thus connecting with the characters. And convention-defying though it may be, the anti-romantic love story at its core leaves one feeling cold. That and Kelly MacDonald’s performance. Perhaps it was a nuance that was all too subtle, but one would expect more pathos from a romantic lead. Considered purely on its own merits there are flashes of genius on show here and much to be enjoyed, with outstanding lead performances from both Rockwell and Huston. However with a weaker story and structure it’s never going to hit the heights of its predecessor. by Phil Dixon

Che Pt II, the picture will be complete, but Soderbergh’s directorial technique in this first part seems fragmentary, perhaps even obfuscatory in its jumpiness. For those who saw the shy youth of Walter Salles’s The Motorcycle Diaries (2004), seemingly free from ideological constraint, this newly driven, impassioned and ultimately hardened military commandante is a surprise; there seems to be a caesura in the story. Neither film addresses Ché’s background, the asthma-induced periods of isolation as a child that gave rise to a love of reading, especially philosophy, psychology and poetry, that nurtured an idealism, and a desire to build up a new identity for himself from the best thinking of his time. Che Pt I gives us very little back-story beyond a few snippets of dinner-table conversation between the young Argentinean doctor and the fleeing Cuban militant, Castro, when they first meet in Mexico in 1955. The mature ideology is sketched out through party conversations and extracts from the United Nations address from Guevara’s first visit to New York in 1964, but these are given little cinematographic context; surely the point of a biopic is to show what has so far been explored largely in literature, to give the audience a real visual impression of conditions imposed by the US in Havana and of those suffered by the impoverished native Cubans? Of course, we get scattered examples of these, but because of the disjointed manner in which Soderbergh has

Transporter 3 Out Now

33333 One good thing about this latest Jason Statham action vehicle, “a high octane chase from Marseille to the Ukraine”, is that it will inspire you to learn a foreign language – just so you have more words to express quite how truly, truly terrible it is. The trouble there being you’ll barely be able to recall most of the English language, having been rendered dumber by the experience. From the expected absence of plot to the woefully hilarious dialogue killing time between clumsily-shot action scenes, there is not one redeeming feature of this 103 minute long, braindead Audi ad. And it’s not just Statham’s typically wooden performance, nor his grating Ameri-cockney accent. Nor that of obvious first-timer Natalya Rudakova, the eastern European eye-candy with a tenuous grip on the English language. One can only assume the superb Robert Knepper (Prison Break’s T-Bag) was merely there for the pay cheque. In his performance one can almost find something positive to take away from the ordeal, as he naturally exudes menace from every pore. However any malevolent authority he can emote quickly vanishes as he chews on a dire script, seemingly written by a 17year-old remedial catering student (Best elected to project his vision, we are left with only stereotypical flashes of militant unity, the long operational episodes offering little counterpoint. Soderbergh deserves commendation on several fronts for his film: taking on the subject at all is a substantial task; he has chosen not to pander to an Anglophone audience: the dialogue, apart from the interview scenes in New York, is in Spanish. His choice of Benicio del Toro is an excellent one, albeit with flawed handling. However, we are left having to bridge too many gaps both in terms of narrative and character development. We see nothing of the formative experiences that began to build El Che into the astonishing character that he became. Treatment of his relationship with Castro is superficial. Apart from a few examples of his moral rectitude (passing over his offhand, machista attitude to women and relationships), we learn little of his personal ideology; he comes across more as a stylised Latin-American Robin Hood than perhaps he should. The film takes up a lot of screen time, but covers little ground in terms of Che’s character development and spends too much time in the Cuban jungle, where we only see the fully formed man and leader. The character we see when the film ends abruptly (clearly a longer film cut in two, as it is) has become more of a legend, not less of one; his character has hardened into something almost impermeable to the audience during

example: “I want to feel your sex,” uttered by Rudakova’s character shortly after a revealing dialogue scene in which she describes her perfect dinner.). But anyone coming to this film expecting an intricate plot, witty repartee or even competent acting is clearly in the wrong theatre. The Transporter’s supposed to be about heart-pumping action, adrenaline fuelled car chases and hilariously inventive fight scenes. And this is the biggest let-down. Not only does the visual style compare to your average episode of CSI: Miami – all jump cuts and unnecessary flashes – but the two staples of the franchise, fights and car stunts, are grossly disappointing. Despite being overseen by two of the best in the business, fight choreographer Corey Yuen and French stunt master Rémi Julienne, neither offers anything by way of originality. Car crashes through wall. Statham fights circle of take-a-number bad guys. Car chased by other car, passes dangerously close to other cars on road, goes on two wheels to fit between trucks. Statham fights another circle of take-a-number bad guys with his shirt. Car drives fast, skids, drives off bridge, jumps onto train… And all of this is manhandled so amateurishly by director Olivier Megaton (yes, that is his real name) that the only breath taken is a sigh of boredom. If such awards were judged by number of laughs per minute, this would be Comedy of the Year. As an action movie it’s just a poor joke. Steer clear. by Phil Dixon the cause of a couple of hours, and we are left to consider that perhaps Soderbergh has in fact sneaked in another superhero film to sit alongside Batman et al – a real man who became an icon in his own time, resurrected by a process of retrospective fictionalisation. Just as the remains of the real Che remained undiscovered for 30 years following his death in Bolivia, Soderbergh, despite a worthy cast and no doubt worthy intentions, in the first part of this biopic at least, has also struggled to find him, and the search for an authentic portrayal of the man continues. Published to accompany this new biopic, a graphic novel version of Che’s life by “Spain” Rodriguez, an American-born underground cartoon artist of left-wing political inclination, provides a digestible overview, from Che’s background in Argentina to his assassination in Bolivia in 1967; it’s jumpy, but (unlike the film) direct style is well suited to this brand of potted biography, which is an ideal introduction for new students or for those with a casual interest in the subject. For those who require a more in-depth examination of Che’s life and times, Che: A Revolutionary Life (1997) by Jon Lee Anderson, credited as a consultant on the film, provides a highly readable and comprehensive coverage of the intellectual development and activities behind the legend. by Tom Scruton