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.
Author Archives: Ben Gould
Morning sun on Hutchison Crossway.
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’.
The Wicker Man (1973) is still shocking.
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:
Sainsbury’s, Meadowbank.
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.
Gangster No. 1 (2000) is a gem.
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.
Sexy Beast (2000).
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.
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.scottishcanals.co.uk/falkirk-wheel/plan-your-visit/
http://www.visitfalkirk.com/things-to-do/family-days-out/the-falkirk-wheel/
Thai road-trippin’.
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.
Dalry Road, Edinburgh.
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.
The Mighty Ducks trilogy – good god.
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.
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/
The AAirpass actually exists.
It was sold for a one-time fee of $250k in an attempt by a cash-strapped American Airlines to raise revenue without having to borrow from the banks. Unfortunately (for them), they didn’t factor in just the levels of dedication the 28 pass holders (flying addicts) would bring to the agreement. Millions have been lost in fares and taxes, and a bloke by the name of Steve Rothstein, an investment banker from Chicago, was their number one ‘abuser’.
He took more than 10,000 flights and essentially circumnavigated the globe a zillion times before AA had enough of the geezer and managed to revoke his privileges. They cited various ‘fraudulent activities’ such as his habit of cancelling reservations or letting strangers use his companion pass (extra cost $150k).
This guy is a hero. Imagine the movie. I think you’d need to insert something more than comedy into proceedings, make it all Terrence Malick with the transcendental freedom of travel (until nasty corporation breaks the contract) the main theme. Or get a meagre Ryanair version made.
Of the 28 AAirpasses purchased, 25 are still valid.
Further reading:
https://thehustle.co/aairpass-american-airlines-250k-lifetime-ticket/
https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2019/sep/19/american-airlines-aairpass-golden-ticket
https://www.economist.com/gulliver/2012/05/13/fly-anywhere-any-time-for-life
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 