Author Archives: Ben Gould

Nov 04 2019
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Cinema, Film, Movie, Movies, Uncategorized, United States

The Right Stuff (1983) – the wrong stuff.

 

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This movie was fucking awful. I’d heard all about it for years but put it on the shelf for a rainy day. It rained and I took the plunge.

Why is it that most ‘space movies’ are dull as dishwater? The subject remains an endless fascination but the movies are mostly pathetic. The filmmakers’ think that ‘getting it all right’ on the physics and equipment equals a masterpiece. They continue to disregard a need for drama, a human conflict that sucks you in and makes you invested in proceedings.

This film is sadly another snore-fest. No one gives a fuck about the scientific dimensions of the story, only the conflict and the feels. We have here a rather ultra-talented array of actors – Scott Glenn, Sam Shepard, Ed Harris, Fred Ward, Dennis Quaid – all looking … bored.

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It’s so uninspired and prosaic, real lazy filmmaking. Imagine Michael Mann made this; you’d have a masterwork on your hands.

Fucking hated this film. Shite.

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Nov 02 2019
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Edinburgh, Photography, Scotland, Travel, United Kingdom

Edinburgh – winter is coming.

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Princes Street is ghastly – chavs galore and feckless tourists – but every Christmas it’s almost bearable. Because it rains and snows and people look fucking miserable. I like misery and I enjoy seeing people miserable. Great.

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Oct 31 2019
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Britain, Edinburgh, Photography, Uncategorized

Morning sun on Hutchison Crossway.

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It doesn’t often look like this at Hutchison. For a very brief instant, things were cinematic. And then it was gone just as a beaten-up Ford Mondeo staggered into frame. This was my ‘Decisive Moment’.

 

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Oct 25 2019
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Art, Cinema, Film, Movie, Movies

The Wicker Man (1973) is still shocking.

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The most disturbing thing about this bonkers movie is that it’s all a setup, almost every scene a parade to the unsuspecting cop getting burned to ashes. It’s a harrowing last 20 minutes because on first viewing you gradually realise what’s going on yet our protagonist doesn’t. Edward Woodward, though – what an acting job this is. He is captivating. I give it 5/5, … and I hate everything.

One scene makes no sense: Britt Ekland dancing about in the nip (body double, I hear) to a tune I recall remixed by Sneaker Pimps for the underrated Hostel (2005), The Equalizer stood there like a wee bairn in his jammies when she’s banging the walls for a bit of carnal action. There is no reason for that scene to be there but it’s weirdly memorable.

I’m not dipping into the Nicolas Cage remake because the awfulness of the movie is beyond a keyboard description and the snippet of scenes here speak for it all:

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Oct 21 2019
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Britain, Edinburgh, Photography, Uncategorized

Sainsbury’s, Meadowbank.

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I have been in this store more times than any other building in the history of my life. I have visited this shop on so many occasions that I could win a rebooted version of Supermarket Sweep blindfolded in record time; I know the location of every item and can blitz a £60 shop in under three minutes. I’ve conducted some cursory calculations and my conclusion is that I’ve graced the self-scan machines with my presence at least 3,500 times, which *must* be unique, unless I’m so solipsistic I’ve overlooked the fact that local working-class fanny magnet Fred (or whoever) has lived over the road for 40-odd years and ventures inside merely for chats.

Anyway, yesterday I saw a midget outside kick the fuck out of a trolley because ‘it’ stole his £1 coin. Scenes. He looked like Verne Troyer on steroids.

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Oct 19 2019
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Britain, Cinema, Film, Movie, Movies, Uncategorized

Gangster No. 1 (2000) is a gem.

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Saw this the other day after a long hiatus, and what an experience it is. With Sexy Beast (2000), it’s one of the few post Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels (1998) Brit gangster movies that actually delivers; Christ, remember all the early noughties mockney garbage that pummelled audiences into paralysis? That was one rotten era, a silly chav flick out every other week. And they all seemed to feature twats.

Gangster No. 1 (2000), though, is so stylishly put together and shamelessly so, the performances at times terrifying, and it shows the actual power and results of the ability to inflict violence rather than nonchalantly shrugging off the act as something comical (all Guy Ritchie movies). The film is about something, which is a rarity these days.

And it’s so good to see Malcolm McDowell in a decent movie; it’s almost as if he made a conscious decision to star in tripe after knowing nothing could ever top if…. (1968) and A Clockwork Orange (1971). That’s a perfect double bill, by the way, and so too is Sexy Beast (2000) and Gangster No. 1 (2000) – proper carnage but arty proper carnage with lots of swearing.

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Sexy Beast (2000).

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Oct 17 2019
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Britain, Photography, Scotland, Technology, Uncategorized

The Falkirk Wheel has blown my mind and I haven’t even seen the thing and for 17 years thought it was a ferris wheel.

Falkirk Wheel

Once upon a time, I went to Falkirk for a ‘night out’. I can’t remember a distinguishing characteristic about the place save that it was dodgy; it had a Chernobyl feel to it and the bar staff were more difficult to understand than a Klingon speaking in their native tongue. The wheel, however, was something I was convinced I knew well. I always thought it was a sort of Central Lowlands version of a vintage ferris wheel à la The Third Man (1949). I only found out the other day that it’s not a wheel as in a ferris wheel, but something functional and once again … not at all a ferris wheel.

It is in fact a boat lift which connects the Forth and Clyde Canal with the Union Canal, and it’s quite the impressive achievement both aesthetically and from a purely engineering perspective. How I didn’t know this I … don’t know. I figure I was just lost in semantic confusion.

I might visit one day, and I now understand why Falkirk experiences a little bit of tourism. I would not, though, recommend its pubs to even Francis Begbie in his pomp.

Further reading/viewing:

https://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Attraction_Review-g186527-d484561-Reviews-Falkirk_Wheel-Falkirk_Falkirk_District_Scotland.html

https://www.scottishcanals.co.uk/falkirk-wheel/plan-your-visit/

http://www.visitfalkirk.com/things-to-do/family-days-out/the-falkirk-wheel/

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Oct 12 2019
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Cinema, Film, Movie, Photography, Thailand, Tourism, Transport, Travel, Uncategorized

Thai road-trippin’.

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Time flies. This was six years ago today, and what a silly wee adventure it was, Bangkok to Rayong to Pattaya to Ayutthaya. The piece-of-shite motorbike I purchased off a Burmese borderline dwarf exploded about two hours into the journey to Rayong so I had to sit on a rotten minibus like a tinned sardine for half the day. But Fleetwood Mac got me through proceedings. I hate to appropriate the word ‘epic’ but this sojourn really was because it had everything; it was The Wolf of Wall Street (2013) but without Velcro dartboards to launch midgets at.

Good times.

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Oct 08 2019
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Britain, Edinburgh, Photography, Scotland, Uncategorized

Dalry Road, Edinburgh.

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Arty-farty pretensions with this snap from Monday. Interestingly, there’s a graveyard coming up on the left there and I once saw a (presumably hammered) woman clutching a bottle of budget cider wander inside and take a shite in a bush.

All very Edinburgh.

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Oct 06 2019
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Cinema, Film, Uncategorized, United States

The Mighty Ducks trilogy – good god.

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Some things shouldn’t be revisited, mainly items from childhood that fill you with nostalgic joy. The Mighty Ducks movies are a mighty (sorry) example of this. I was convinced they were masterworks because time is an emollient cream of sorts. By gum, these films are fucking dire.

Where to begin? We can start with Emilio Estevez’s face. It is unchanging throughout. The bloke has the acting chops of a turnip and the charisma of a sock. If he were my coach I’d quit the team. What is even worse, though, are the kids. They are so annoying that I think I’d spike their milk bottles with cyanide had I passed through the school system with them. The one exception is the fat bastard from Keenan and Kel who pops up in the sequel; he’s the only critter there with an IQ.

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And what a mad movie D2: The Mighty Ducks (1994) is. For some reason the bad guys are from Iceland. Every single one of them looks 10 years older than their age and appear to be either Neo-Nazis or overgrown members of the Hitler Youth. Their coach is even called ‘The Dentist’; Marathon Man (1976) flashbacks kicking in.

However, the theme tune is splendid and the Flying V looks aesthetically pleasing even though it makes zero fucking sense.

The ’90s were an odd time.

Further reading/viewing:

https://bleacherreport.com/articles/2141498-25-things-you-never-knew-about-the-mighty-ducks-trilogy

https://www.empireonline.com/movies/reviews/d2-mighty-ducks-review/

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