- Big (1988)
- Watched this for the first time in ages and was reminded what a sweet, good-hearted film it is. However, I watched it alone because the kids weren't interested and C doesn't like it; she objects to the romance element between Elizabeth Perkins and Tom Hanks (playing, of course, a 13 year old in a man's body). I can see why, and I wonder whether a film made today would feature it as heavily, or at all. At best, that section is kind of a male fantasy (the "older woman" thing) and, as ever with these kind of films, it doesn't bear thinking about too much. Would Susan (the Perkins character) really be so understanding, or would she actually be horrified? I think probably the latter. Still, it's very funny in places and the central message is unaffected: we should all keep hold of the child within. Or something. I'm not very good at subtext!
- Tangled (2010)
- I'm told we watched this in early January but I don't remember. I've watched it before, of course, so maybe that's why it didn't register. I really like the film, it's got a great sense of humour. For B & K it was a prelude to watching Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure, but I drew the line at that.
- Mulan (1998)
- For some reason, Mulan is one of the Disney Princesses even though surely the point of the story is that she very much isn't a princess. Anyway, this original version of the Disney story can't quite make up its mind whether it's a dramatic re-telling in the vein of other classic Disney princess films, or a more comedic take. The presence of Eddie Murphy's
DonkeyMushu unbalances the film somewhat and frankly it could have done with someone less identifiably playing themselves, but perhaps it needed the star name. Overall, good-natured and undemanding, although probably reflecting attitudes of the time (23 years ago!) that wouldn't make it into a film now.
- Amazing Grace (2018)
- Somehow the existence of Aretha's 1972 album Amazing Grace has passed me by until now, to my shame, despite the fact that it is Aretha's best-selling ever. This is the film of it being recorded and is done in classic 70s documentary style, all shaky cameras and random focus - very similar in feel to Woodstock or The Last Waltz. It's a great watch though - it's not just an album being recorded, it's a gospel performance. Whether it's a great or true one is not really for me to judge (my entire exposure to gospel is the James Brown scenes in The Blues Brothers) but it seems authentic to me. I also love that two of the musicians, Chuck Rainey and Bernard Purdie, are also on Steely Dan's Aja - now that's versatility. (It also "features" Mick Jagger, who appears for all of five seconds; the edit cheekily includes him noticing the camera, elaborately and unconvincingly pretending not to notice the camera and then starting to clap along.)
- The Sound of TV With Neil Brand (2020)
- This three-part exploration of the use of music on TV - through theme tunes, advertising jungles and accompanying music - ought to have been a lot more interesting than it was. By forcing the content into the usual (unnecessarily) hour long episodes, it ended up being fragmented instead of joining dots. Brand tries to make an argument that because TV music is so pervasive, it shapes our lives more than we realise, but this feels like overstating the case to try and justify the fancy locations. This would have been more effective as a single programme, showing progress through more examples and fewer interviews and location changes. Or, to put it another way, by being more like Mark Kermode's superb Secrets of Cinema programmes.
- Captain Marvel (2019)
- If I'd known the MCU better, or paid more attention during Avengers: Endgame, I probably wouldn't have been surprised by the reversal about halfway through this. But that said, if it was that obvious to aficionados, what would be the point at all? So maybe it wasn't obvious. Anyway, I didn't see it coming. The film overall is reasonably good fun, although by far the most impressive special effect is the de-aging of Samuel L Jackson.
- Secret Society of Second Born Royals (2020)
- As the kids pointed out, this plays out a bit like someone binge-watched Sky High, followed by MI High and then tried to sort of munge them together with The Princess Diaries (or any of a number of other royal-obsessed Disney Channel films). Diverting enough, but I only watched to the end to see how it ended - although it was predictable, I still like seeing how things play out. Recommended to us by one of K's friends, who has now been reprimanded and ordered to go and watch Sky High instead.
- Yes, Minister (Series 1) (1981)
- One of the first things I looked for on Britbox was this, because I never watched it at the time, as far as I can remember. Having gone through the seven episodes, I'm pretty certain I didn't. So although the general framework is familiar, the plots weren't, which made discovering it a new joy for me. Obviously there is a risk in watching it forty years after it was made, but aside from the obvious things that date it (don't desks look odd without a computer on them?), it absolutely stands up. The mindless bureaucracy ("Minister for Administrative Affairs" always made us laugh) and the private scheming is obviously something that is always with us. Fantastically well-observed and performed throughout, and if a couple of the episodes dipped slightly they were never less than entertaining.
- Sky High (2005)
- Rotten Tomatoes review of Sky High is surprisingly tone deaf: it describes the film as "highly derivative [and] moderately entertaining". Did they actually watch the film? It's clearly an affectionate spoof as well as very funny throughout (Kurt Russell's constant super hero posing is hilarious). RT saves themselves with an editorial from last year that describes it as "ahead of its time", which is much more on the mark. Its been a favourite in this house for several years; highly recommended.
- Not Dead Yet by Phil Collins (2016)
- Face Value is one of my favourite albums, and "You Can't Hurry Love" always gives me a big nostalgic reminder of my first, early teenage crush, but other than these and the usual smattering of 80s hits, I don't know much of Phil Collins' music - I don't own any of his other solo or Genesis albums. But I'd heard this was a good book, so I thought I'd give it a go. It's very well done - although obviously benefiting from the attentions of an assistant/ghost writer (Craig McLean, according to the acknowledgements), it retains Collins' voice, and (as the reviews all say), he's pretty honest about himself. Unlike a lot of these autobiographies, he doesn't minimise the sheer amount of hard work needed to achieve what he has, or the extent to which you have to be focussed on that success above anything else in order to get it. And he's pretty clear about the effect it's had on his personal life: three failed marriages and a near-death experience with alcoholism. Even if there's a touch of the "poor me" occasionally, he still manages to come across as a nice guy who doesn't quite believe he's managed to achieve so much (an amount which, it's easy to forget, is quite staggering). I enjoyed the book a lot, although subsequent listens to some of his music haven't convinced me that I've missed out particularly.
- Playing The Bass With Three Left Hands by Will Carruthers (2016)
- Coincidentally published the same year as Phil Collins' autobiog, this is a fantastic insight into the other end of the music industry. Will Carruthers was the bassist in Spacemen 3 and then Spiritualized. These are not insignificant bands (although possibly not as famous or important as he claims), but it didn't seem to stop him being permanently skint and homeless. Possibly being frequently out of his tree on a smorgasbord of drugs didn't help, in fairness, but his dedication to music is surely easily equal to Collins' and yet he seems to have ended up with little except a wry wit and a philosophical attitude - which luckily makes for a very good book. Highly recommended. I'll have to go and dig out Ladies And Gentlemen We Are Floating In Space (which I have in limited edition pharmaceutical packaging!)
- The Innocence of Father Brown by G.K. Chesterton (1911)
- The Father Brown stories have a almost gothic quality that I like, but find rather too rich for frequent consumption. The style is superbly realised and the stories ingenious, but I find myself wishing they were slightly longer. The obvious comparison is with Sherlock Holmes, but in terms of prose, Chesterton is far superior. It reminds me more of the Don Camillo stories.
- The Guitar Magazine (February 2021 / Issue 389)
- Over fifty years since he died and still Jimi Hendrix is the headline on this month's issue. In fairness they have interviews with some current artists elsewhere but still ... fifty years ago guys!
- Running Like A Girl by Alexandra Heminsley (2013)
- When I last read this, I had been running for about three months and related to some of the advice aimed at new runners. Six years later and, unsurprisingly, it's the chapters about what it feels like to have achieved your goal and then stopped that resonate most. My original goal had been to run 5K in under 25 minutes, which (according to my detailed run diary) I achieved about seven months after I started. A few months after that my knee started hurting and I never really got back into the routine again. Now I am trying again (again).
- Hogfather by Terry Pratchett (1996)
- I started this in December, with a view to finishing it on or around Christmas - since that's what it's kind of about. The Hogfather is Discworld's Santa Claus analog and the story, inasmuch as it's about anything, seems to be about the power of belief. I don't feel like I understood all of it, or what bits of it were supposed to mean, but it's enjoyable, and I like Susan, Death's grand-daughter.
- The Gospel According To Luke by Steve Lukather (with Paul Rees) (2018)
- And here's yet another insight into life as a musician. If most people know Lukather at all, it's probably as a member of TOTO, but to guitarists he's one of the gods: one of the most prolific and respected session guitarists ever; his range and versatility is legendary. The book comes across as very genuine to his personality (not that I know what that is otherwise), and he talks a lot about the insanity of both working and partying hard in LA music circles. He's got a bit of a chip on his shoulder about the lack of critical respect that TOTO received - as he says, these guys were playing on everyone's records in the 80s, so they must have been doing something right - but the "partial" discography at the back of the book (twenty pages, one line per artist!) proves his point. The book reads well, even if it does feel like a bit of a list of "then I played with this guy, then that one", and everyone's his good friend - but his kind of success relies on people liking you as much as people liking your playing, so I think he must be just a very likeable guy!
Amadeus Quartetlast VAW, which I felt was nice but uninvolving, this piece has a very definite sense of mood across all four movements, and in particular the second, Andante Con Moto, which is just fantastically mournful. As the title it's often given indicates, there's a sense of approaching death and doom, which is apparently because Schubert himself was not well around this time. That said, despite this background and the informal title, most of the piece is quite fast, but with a sort of desperate energy. Only the second movement is slow, starting with a kind of death march and moving to a powerful, stately melody. Great stuff.
When I first listened to this, I was slightly inclined to wonder if the slight tinny-ness of the sound was due to my record player or the recording - which originally dates from 1960, according to discogs.com. However, in part, I think it's because the string quartet format itself tends towards this: with two violins and a viola, there's a lot of high frequencies, with only the cello rounding out the sound at all. However, when I listened a bit more, I was grabbed by the melodies and the subtlety of the arrangement became a bit more apparent. Because there are only four parts to listen to, it's easier to appreciate how they work around each other (I mean, who can listen to all parts in an orchestra? Maybe a few people, but not me); I still prefer the sound of a full orchestra, but this manages a fair bit of drama and dynamics itself.
Filling up the space at the end of the record is a single movement from an uncompleted string quartet in C minor, which is fairly unmemorable. The recording itself is, as far as I can tell, not available on Spotify, although several other, probably later, recordings by the Amadeus quartet are, and well worth listening to. My copy is somewhat scratched (it's the same age as me, so you know, fair enough) and I still don't find that charming.
London Philharmonic Orchestra
Conducted by Eugen Jochum
Considered then as a collection of bits of music - albeit complex, intertwined and linked - it's been easier for me to get my head around. There are many different moods evoked, the transitions are superbly done and it's never less than very listenable. However, I'd be hard-pressed to pick out any stand-out moments. I think I prefer Symphony 100 slightly over 99, but sadly it all fades into the background a bit unless I am really concentrating. All of which sounds like damning with faint praise, I know, but I do actually like these pieces. Probably I am still unable to fully appreciate this kind of music.
Disappointingly, I haven't been able to listen to the vinyl of this, since it is very dirty and distorting unpleasantly (hopefully it's the record and not my needle ...). However, I found what appears to be the exact recordings on Spotify, so that's what I've been playing.