BOOK REVIEW: STRAY SOULS by KATE GRIFFIN

As the saying goes, you can have it fast or you can have it good. With Kate Griffin you get it fast and you get it good as she effortlessly knocks out a couple of novels a year.

In this book, set in the same London as the Night Mayor (who makes several appearances), Griffin has stuck has struck gold with a great idea. Sharon Li who, for some reason, is afflicted with magical problems, sets up a support group called Magicals Anonymous for people (and, as she discovers, people who aren't people) with problems caused by magic. To her surprise, it's quite successful. Also to her surprise she learns that she's a shaman and the only one (with a little help from her new friends) who can deal with a magical danger that even the Night Mayor can't handle.

And that's pretty much all I'm going to tell you about the plot as I wouldn't want to spoil any of the many pleasures and surprises this book contains. I will tell you that this book contains Griffin's considerable and idiosyncratic gift for description, particularly of London. Being cynical I considered that a. she made it all up, or b. spent hours on Google at street level, or c. walked the streets of London more than anyone who wasn't homeless. After checking her blog it turns out that it's c. 

But back to the point, I just want to make it clear that Griffin is a spectacularly good writer. Not a great one yet but give her five minutes and she will be. She sold her first novel at age 14, under her real name of Catherine Webb she was nominated for the Carnegie Medal in two successive years aged 19 and 20. Now she's reached the ripe old age of 26, I shudder to think how good she'll be in about another ten years. Ten years after that she'll probably be World President, if she can be bothered.

I would just like to point out that the page length of this book is deceptive and that you'll read it fair more quickly than you expected (even allowing for the fact that you'll find it difficult to put down). There are a total of 111 chapters in 438 pages giving an average chapter length of fractionally under 4 pages so there is lots of white space. One chapter just consists of 7 words (8 including the title) and all the same word (excluding the title) which I would quote except for that it might be considered unfair usage to print an entire chapter even for review purposes.

The book would also make the basis for a good TV series. A two-parter, based on the book, to introduce the characters coming together, then several more focusing on one or two of the group. That's on British TV. If the Americans buy it it'll probably be called Magicals Anonymous: Missions Very Impossible.

Anyway, get in on the ground floor so you can boast you were reading Kate Griffin before she took over the world. Plus you'll also get to read a terrific slice of British Urban Fantasy.

GRAPHIC NOVEL REVIEW: SAGA by BRIAN K VAUGHAN & FIONA STAPLES (2012)

A masterpiece in the making?

Among others, writer Vaughan was responsible for the lengthy and deservedly highly praised series Y:The Last Man and the shorter and deservedly less praised (though it wasn't bad by any means) Ex Machina. On the basis of this first volume, he's written his finest work so far, if he doesn't fuck it up as he did with Ex Machina and, to a far lesser extent, with the inevitably anti-climatic end to Y.

I got to the end of this book, put it down, and said aloud, "Wow!"

The plot is simple: two mismatched lovers (he's a pacificist vegetarian magic-user, she isn't) from societies at war with each other are on the run (with their newly born baby) from both sides.

But that's the only thing that's simple. She comes from Landfall, a giant planet and he comes from Wreath, Landfall's very large moon. Rather than destroy each other's worlds, both societies take the battle out into the galaxy and hire other races to help fight their enemy. Most of the races seem to have some human-like resemblance but whether or not this is far future and we're seeing a diverse and vastly diverged humanity or just aliens isn't clear. Even the use of some familiar personal names (like Hazel) may be just a means to ease the reader into the story.

The background is potentially very complicated but Vaughan skillfully (greatly aided by the attractive clean-lined quality of Staples' art) and accessibly establishes the scenario and the characters, both lead and supporting. Our two heroes are very engaging and likeable and all the supporting characters are interesting (such as the hired assassin who will kill children for pay but hates paedophiles; he also has a psychic felinoid). There are no captions and all the narrative is conveyed by dialogue except for the occasional comments by a grown up version of the baby which are woven into the panels in which they occur rather than the conventional box and this works really well.

This isn't kids stuff. It if was a DVD it'd be rated 18 for explicit scenes of a sexual nature, frequent use of (bad) language, nudity, and graphic violence. It's also often funny and, just as often, touching.

The potential of this series is enormous and, from the title, we're in for a long run. 

Side note for Science Fiction buffs: this is wide-screen Baroque SF at its best. Resist that come on if you can.

DVD REVIEWS: CAN'T BELIEVE I JUST SAW THAT!

Being reviews of new editions  of Frankenhooker and Street Trash, two of my favourite cult movies. I had both of these in cheaper editions but they were reissued by the Arrow label which claims to release definitive editions of cult films with lots of extras.It's true that all have reversible covers and an introductory booklet of varying length but their publicity does go overboard in extolling these extras and other virtues which vary wildly. These two movies provide a good example.

Both editions of these films are identical in picture quality and length to the cheapo DVDs I already had. Frankenhooker's sole extra (in addition to the booklet) is a 20 minute making of which, to my disappointment, doesn't include an interview of any kind with Patty Mullen the talented actress who brilliantly plays the title role. Street Trash doesn't include a recent interview with director Denis Muro who moved on bigger and more lucrative things as steadicam boss for people like James Cameron. On the other hand the making of is so long as to need a separate disc which also includes a five minute interview with one of the actresses who married a musician who's been part of the Rolling Stones live band for nearly 30 years.

Now, despite the seeming superficial resemblance between these two movies -low budget, black comedy, bad taste, and the actor James Lorinz- they couldn't be more different in tone.

Frankenhooker is a comedy-horror with the emphasis on comedy and its directed by cult figure Frank Henenlotter of Basket Case fame. When the fiance of electrian and secret mad scientist Jeffrey Franken (Lorinz) is turned into mince by a runaway lawn mower, Jeffrey, who never stops talking to himself, rescues her head and a few other body parts. He keeps these fresh in a tank while he works out a way to revive her, taking dinner with her head and thoughtfully pours wine into her mouth and you can guess where the wine goes next. He finally decides to murder some hookers with a supercrack he's invented and use their body parts. Yes, this is the exploding hookers movie. Needless to say it mostly goes wrong though he does manage to revive the girl which then goes wrong again as, dominated by the instincts of a dozen hookers and quoting chunks of their earlier dialogue, she goes on a customer rampage, blowing up everyone with whom she comes in physical contact. It all ends with a mass of revived pissed-off hooker parts, their pimp, the title character, and I won't spoil what happens to our anti-hero. 

The gore on show is cartoon gore with little or no attempt at realism. The exploding hookers are clearly store dummies, not even bits of dead animals, so you can laugh without even the faintest wince. Some of the reanimated parts are a bit disturbing to look at but nothing too grotesque. There is, however, frequent female nudity, copious bad language, drug taking, sexual references by the bucket load which makes it all the more astonishing to me that this DVD (despite the sleeve above) was given a 15 rating. The BBFC really have got lenient.

Basically it's an entertaining romp, a real crowd pleaser for cult and horror movie buffs and my favourite of the director's movies. It's also curiously inoffensive and good-natured, a description which could not remotely be applied to Street Trash.

And if you're easily offended, look away now.

Here's my original 5* Amazon review entitled: 

Oh, you'veneverseenanythinglikeitinyourlife.

 You really haven't. However, let's get one thing straight right away.

This is not a horror movie.

That's right, this isn't a horror movie. Oh sure, there is horror in it, but the body-melting of the Tenafly Viper drink is just the macguffin. Apart from introducing it early on in the movie it doesn't play that much of a part until near the end.

What this really is is a movie about society's invisibles, the street people on the fringes that we pretend we don't see -the winos, the derelicts, the brain-damaged, the lost, all struggling to survive one day at a time. Without the horror element I doubt if this film could have been made. And if it hadn't been made as a black comedy (often more often black than comic) it would have been completely unbearable.

Technically, it's more than accomplished. The camera-work is fluid, the image is crisp, the editing sharp, and the ensemble acting is mostly of a high standard. You are in the hands of people who know exactly what they are doing which is to create a genuinely enjoyable and original film. At least for those who can take the brutality and squalor along with the humour and the gore.

I think it's an amazing piece of work that should be far better known than it is. In its own ugly way, this is Art.

Watching it again over five years later I have no reason whatsoever to change my opinion in the slightest. Seeing as I don't need to avoid spoilers, I will just mention a few elements and one caveat. The horror macguffin is the only cartoony element in it when someone disintegrates into a distorted gooey multi-coloured  mass which is out of tone with the rest of the movie and completely disappears for the second of the three acts. On the other hand you've got a game of catch using a freshly severed penis with penis's owner trying to get it back, brutality, rape and necrophilia (both thankfully off-screen), completely untitillating sex scenes, and more. But horrifying and comic as it is, this is also a film with a genuine heart and compassion. Perhaps they're well-hidden but they're there.

EDUCATION: PHYSICAL EDUCATION (P.E.) LESSONS AT SCHOOL

Blogging about joining a gym reminded me of PE lessons at Bede Grammar School, Sunderland during the early 60's. 

Bede was a very traditional grammar school with high standards and regular use of corporal punishment. In my first year as a small nervous eleven year old I remember getting caned on my left hand for the crime of spelling wrongly the name of a composer the music teacher had just dictated to us. Teachers wore gowns, clouds of cigarette smoke poured out of the staff room when the door was opened, and PE teachers were bastards, Or so my admittedly fallible memory tells me. No matter, if I get anything wrong, my old friend Barry, whom I've known since the age of eleven, probably since our first day at Bede, will let me know.

We got PE twice a week in the gym which, by today's standards, was a bleak and basic affair consisting of wall to wall wall bars, hanging ropes, mats, and a couple of things you jump on or vault (if you can) over (see above). As you might gather I was pretty crap at PE. For one thing I couldn't touch my toes. One day, the teacher, a thug named Ellis, decided he'd make me touch my toes by getting me to bend over and force my arms down by pressing on my shoulders. Because of his limited knowledge of the subtleties of anatomy, he didn't realise I couldn't do it because I had short tendons behind my knees and it was just physically impossible for me. Luckily he gave up before something in my legs tore. 

The gym got a new piece of equipment, a trampette (a miniature trampoline) designed to help with vaulting over the horse. Ellis was the first to try it but didn't read the instruction manual (if one had come with it). He charged at the trampette, jumped on it with all his weight which resulted in him sailing completely over the horse and landing flat on his face. Alas I am reporting this second hand as I wasn't there to witness it. Alas.

Needless to say, I and all the other kids with an athletic ability comparable to mine weren't his favourite pupils. Climb ropes -I'd get a few feet off the ground and give up. Forward roll -well, yes I could actually accomplish that but anything more complicated was pretty much beyond me.  I do remember eventually managing to vault completely over the vaulting horse but it was a close thing.

There were physical activities other than PE, however, which fell under the dreaded category of Sport. To be honest, even though I wasn't much good, I did quite like playing football. I was usually one of the last to get picked and usually ended up as a back. Never in goal as with my short sightedness it was a case of 'what ball where?'. My experiences of cricket provided me with the basis of a lifetime loathing for the boring game. Then there was cross country running which consisted of three laps around both football pitches, up a bank, around the rugby pitch, down and back to the football pitch, repeat with increasing breathlessness. 

And then came a surprise some time in my thirteenth year. My class was running in heats to discover who, if any of us, were good enough to qualify for the school athletics sports day. I was in the heat for the 100 yards with about ten others and much to my surprise and that of everyone else, I found myself shooting past people and winning the heat. The next heat was the best eight (I'm making these numbers up, I can't remember) of the class. Ahead me was Eddy Algy the class athlete who glanced back at the pursuing field and was shocked to find me hot on his heels and he had to up his pace (which he did easily) to avoid an embarrassing defeat. He gave me some respect after that. So I was about the second best in my class at the 100 yards dash. Nothing else mind you, being short, stocky with flat feet and no stamina aren't the best characteristics for a runner.

Once I got into the 6th Form it was easier to avoid games, though I once did let my best friend of the time talk me into playing football with the rest of the class. I have to say I didn't make a pigs ear out my role as a back (defence as it's called now -is it?). When I was put in goal for a while, my friend told me I showed great bravery diving at the booted feet of my classmates to stop the ball going in. When it came to saving a penalty, however, it was what ball where.

Post Script.

After I finished school I went to Ormskirk teacher training college on the windy south west Lancashire plain where I fell in with a bunch of enthusiastic fell-walkers (I'd got a taste for fell-walking on  holiday the previous two summers) and also swam a lot in the college pool, even played badminton now and again. It may have been the fittest time of my life. But sport or gym, forget it.

DVD: RISE OF THE PLANET OF THE APES

What were the chances of a new Planet of the Apes movie being any good? I didn't rate them very highly at all and consequently had no interest in it when it was released. I've seen all four of the original series and only the first two were any good. For their time. Though the image of Charlton Heston coming across the partially buried Statue of Liberty has become iconic in Science Fiction cinema.

But even though uninterested, I couldn't avoid noticing that the film got a lot of good reviews, particularly for the special effects (which got an Academy Award nomination). But then you can have good sfx in an otherwise completely shitty film. I also noticed that Andy Serkis got rave reviews for his performance-capture as Caesar. Hardly a surprise to anyone who's seen LOTR and King Kong, or any film or TV role as he's just a damn good actor. But the good reviews kept rolling in and so I added the DVD to my Amazon wish list and waited for the price to drop to under a fiver at which point I bought it and added it to my pile of unwatched films. Eventually I summoned up the energy to watch it.

And, bugger me, it's actually a very good Science Fiction film. And I mean very good in all departments -acting, script, photography, editing, direction- it's a film that fires on all cylinders.

I don't want to include spoilers as I'll probably be lending it to three other people, two of whom read this blog, but I do need look at some plot elements.

 Scientist James Franco is researching into a drug which will cure Alzheimers which his father, the always wonderful John Lithgow, is suffering from. To do this, he and his team (he works for a giantcorp) experiment on chimpanzees. Due to circumstances, he ends up raising baby chimp Caesar as his own child, along with Lithgow to whom he gives the drug and goes into remission. He also meets attractive zoo vet Freida Pinto. Due to more circumstances, an adult Caesar ends up in a refuge for simians, a brutal refuge ruled by Brian Cox where animal cruelty is the norm. The rest you can discover for yourself.

While it changes the basis for the ape-ruled world from a nuclear holocaust to... something else, it is, in every other way consistent with the Charlton Heston movie and is packed with references to it. None of these spoil anything if you don't notice them and you'd have to be an expert on the original to get them all, but it's nice that they're there.

While it always holds the attention, it saves most of the action for towards the end. While not being overtly polemic, focusing on telling its tale, it nevertheless can't help but make you think about the subjects of animal experimentation and cruelty to animals.

I do have a few minor quibbles about the Rise of the Apes themselves  but to explain them would involve spoilers and they are, as I've said, minor. This is a surprisingly well done SF movie which manages to be both intelligent and terrific entertainment. A sequel has been announced and I can't wait, especially if it follows on from the end of the first.

HEALTH: THE JOYS OF JIM (SORRY, I MEANT) GYM

This will be difficult even for those who know me only slightly to believe, but I have started going to a gym. Now going swimming at the nearby Raich Carter Fitness Centre 3-5 times a week for the last four years has become the norm for me but the last time I entered a gym I was still at school. This summer and the time came round to renew my annual subscription for swimming and I found they had a special all-inclusive offer which was actually cheaper. so I went with that to save money rather than any particular intention to start going to the gym. I couldn't go until I bought a pair of trainers anyway.

When I did, I couldn't put it off any longer and booked an induction session which took place on Monday. I filled in a form about myself and got weighed and... oh fuck.

I'm five feet five inches tall and my weight was 15.76 stone (that's over 210 pounds to American visitors). I don't actually look it (I tell myself) but either way, that is seriously obese. I decided there and then to lose weight by cutting out, or drastically down, on the carbs -potato, rice, bread, and pasta. Normally when I come back from swimming I eat a chocolate biscuit or a mini pork pie. Yesterday it was a mandarin orange, today (back from the gym) a banana. So, like I'm really serious about this, man. There are fruit scones I like in the kitchen, mini pork pies in the fridge, but it's no way Jose.

But back to the gym.  A twenty minute induction showed me the basics of about half the machines in the place and I had relatively brief goes on them. At the end I finished with a ten minute walk-power walk-slow job on the treadmill. What surprised me a lot, though as I'd never been to a gym in over 45 years it shouldn't, was how high-tech everything was. The display on all the machines showed how long you'd been on, how many calories you'd burned up, your speed or pace or whatever it needed to show, and if you didn't want to watch the ever-changing display you could watch TV instead. The key to all this is a key, an electronic key which you use to sign in and then sign on to each machine in turn and your results are downloaded to the key.

Today I went in to have a program designed for me. I filled in another form and talked over what I wanted to do and she created it for me. Next I go and sign in the program will be downloaded to the key which will then tell me where to go and each machine would then tell me what is expected of me. Neat stuff!

Once that was sorted I went onto the machines, starting with ten minutes on the treadmill  where I improved on my first session by a third with power-walking and a slow jog. I did a stint on something where you have lift your feet up and down, sort of like stepping but harder. Onto a couple of sitting down machines where you pull with your arms or bend forward as hard as you can. Everything is graded and you can make it as hard or as easy for yourself as you wish and you can guess which option I took. I finished off with ten minutes on a cycling machine traveling, sort of, 2.4 kilometres. 

Now I know why people take energy drinks with them. And Ipods.

I shall, in due course, inform you of how wonderfully successful I've been and how much weight I've lost. Or of my dismal failure.

But I am optimistic because once I get a new enthusiasm I tend to fling myself into it, a phrase which in this case is quite appropriate. Wish me luck.

SOCIETY: ERIC HOBSBAWM, R.I.P

Eric (I find his surname difficult to type) died yesterday aged 95 and his death was announced on BBC News. I hadn't read any of his books but I did know that he was one of the country's leading historians.

The Daily Mail also reported on it in fairly neutral terms, surprising given that he remained an unrepentant communist. The comments in the online section were far from neutral. Now I often find it amusing that in general people who comment on DM articles are much more liberal than the Mail itself. Not this time, however.

The right wing hang em shoot em flog em trash came out in force. The comments are among the most vile I have ever read. They positively celebrate the death of this elderly respected and highly honoured historian. I urge you to look it up just so you can this vile bunch of inadequates vomiting up their poisonous bile.

I copied one such and posted it back to the DM with my own opinion on it (see below which also includes a link to the article). I'm proud to state that when I checked just before starting this post, it had been red arrowed (which means they hate it) 63 times.

Scumbags.

Good riddance - Stuart , West Yorkshire, 02/10/2012 06:44 Says a jealous insignificant worm commenting on a giant.

- ianw700, Sunderland, 2/10/2012 7:05

Click to rate     Rating  -    63  red arrows

Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2211379/Leading-Marxist-historian-author-Eric-Hobsbawm-dies-aged-95-battle-pneumonia.html#ixzz288bqfiiV
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