HP7Pt2

And so it is finished. And I am glad.

Don't get me wrong; I love Harry Potter and I really enjoyed the earlier books - getting to know the characters and the magical world of Hogwarts. This was adapted well in the first films as we were introduced to all the elements of great storytelling. The later books continued this thread, and then it all seems to have gone horribly wrong.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Part One) was bearable, but I should have realised things were all going to be less like a dramatic film and more like a version of a video game when the latest instalment was advertised as HP7. Despite being intensely loyal to the franchise (I have bought all the books, been to the cinema to see all the films and own a couple of them on DVD), I have to concede that I am not the target audience.

I know this because reports of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (Part Two) have been overwhelmingly positive, whereas I found it all rather dull. It's the battle sequence. I hated it in the Narnia stories/ Star Wars/ The Lord of the Rings. It's good versus evil and we don't teach children about nihilism, so there is no surprise in the outcome.

This I could cope with if it didn't just all look like some CGI X-Box game. What happened to the characters? Who cares? Chuck in some shooting sparks and explosions and that will compensate for the weakest narrative arc to grace a screen in a long time. Maggie Smith still gets to do a spot of acting as Professor McGonagall, and there's a decent cameo from Kelly Macdonald as Helena Ravenclaw who helps Harry find her mother's diadem, which seems all too easy.

In fact Harry (Daniel Radcliffe), Ron (Rupert Grint) and Hermione (Emma Watson) make simple work of finding the remaining horcruxes in which Voldemort has hidden parts of his soul. Collect each token; progress to the next level. Basically, everyone else just runs around shouting at each other, leaping from action sequence to action sequence with no thought for orchestrated tempo or development - if you pause too long, the audience might realise that it's got no depth or substance to it: this is genuine cinema for the ADD generation.

The superlative characterisation in this final film belongs to Matthew Lewis as Neville Longbottom. As he stands alone in a dodgy cardy from Bury market facing the axis of evil protected only by a wand and a magic shield he rants to the ranging forces, 'You and whose army?' It's the best line of the film - trust me. His delivery is perfect as he proves his mettel by weilding the sword of Gryffindor (do you see what I did there?) to defend Harry from Nagini, Voldemort's snake and the last remaining piece of his soul. At this, Voldemort dissolves into whirling puzzle pieces, like Chris Martin in that Viva La Vida video. And no, I'm not giving anything away because it was obvious from the beginning.

Speaking of spoilers - the ending (which you will already know if you've read the books, and if you haven't then you're not a true fan so I'm not going to apologise) is appalling. Not that they all turn up as adults with their children to send them away to a boarding school where they were all three nearly killed, but by their horrifically conservative dress sense. I would have liked to see the offspring of Neville and Luna - I'll bet they at least got to wear something slightly less dull.

My problem is not that the film missed out loads from the book (most films do that - they have to cram 607 pages into a couple of hours, although in this case, they did get two films to do it in) but that it missed the essence of the film. Sure, I will miss the terrific trio, but they were actually already missing from this film.

Market Research

I suspect I am a terrible person on whom to conduct market research. I don't wish to sound egotistical or anything, but I think too much. Often the multiple choice options don't include my view, and then I deliberate interminably over my response, as the researcher rolls their eyes, fidgets with their pen and generally just wills me to get on with it.

Wherever possible I feel compelled to answer surveys. This stems in part from a childhood of reading magazines with my best friend, when we took all the quizzes to see how compassionate or fashionable we were; what type of holiday companion we would make; or what animal we most resembled (very/ not at all/ tolerable/ a dog - the last was particularly hard for my 11-year-old self to take).

Furthermore, when I finished my English degree, many of my fellow students got jobs as market researchers (slightly preferrable to call-centre operators) and stood on the aptly-named Market Street in Manchester clutching a clipboard and harrassing passers-by with queries about their shopping habits and entertainment preferences. Naturally I would always take time to answer them - after all, there but for the grace of God and everything... Not that I had much to be thankful for; I was working in a book shop on arguably the lowest pay rate in the retail industry.

Anyway, the other day I passed some bored-looking geography students who were sheltering from the rain and trying to drum up enough data to write a report on tourism in Queenstown, or some such earth-shattering masterpiece. The questions ranged from 'how old are you' - they didn't even ask me to choose an option (although I could clearly see on the upside-down form that there were several brackets) to 'do you consider your occupation to be a) directly related to tourism, b) indirectly related to tourism, or c) not related to tourism at all?'

Now, to the (as you can imagine) obvious delight of the teenagers, I considered this question carefully. I am a full-time writer and work part-time as a dental receptionist to pay for groceries - or to put it another way, for peanuts. Forget what you've heard about crime; it's writing that doesn't pay. So what would I consider my 'occupation'. Is that what I do? Or what I do to earn money?

Assuming it's the latter, despite the number of front teeth shattered by snowboards or chipped during tandem sky-dives, dentists aren't really dependent on tourism. However, if there were no tourists, there would be no Queenstown. People in hospitality and tourism serve them directly; people who work in retail, trades or services administer to them indirectly, and everyone who lives here is affected by them on a daily basis.

Only the farmers are independent of their influence, although those who turn their stations into 'experiences' so Koreans can adopt a sheep, or those who havest grapes on their land to join the burgeoning tourism wine trail clearly rely on them too.

So, how to answer that question honestly? I picked c) in the end, rationalising that the occupation itself is not necessarily related to tourism, even if the location in which it is conducted is. I am certain I lost a lot more sleep over this than the hapless lads asking the questions.

You see, I used to be on the other side. I translated cold hard statistics into 'content-rich' (how I hate that expression - as opposed to what: vaccuous?) website pieces about career choices. I remember struggling with a sentence that informed me '72% of executive assistants work in Auckland'. I immediately wondered what the other 28% of executive assistants in Auckland were up to - filing their nails and drinking coffee? Skiving off to the pictures? Checking the cricket scores? Bleating on TwatFace? I was told I had 'uncommon and irregular thought processes' (of which I was silently proud) and that no one else would interpret this statistic as such.

Please tell me I am not alone!

Stars of the Future?

Songstars
Underground Productions
Queenstown Memorial Hall, 14-16 July, 2011

Following on from the success of Starry-Eyed, Margaret O’Hanlon brings us Songstars in which twelve artists perform their original songs and the audience votes for their favourite. The format is the same, with an introductory video clip before each artist, and the band and backing singers provided, but we are told that, whereas previously we have seen people imitating the stars of the past and the present, we are now here to witness the talent of the future.

There is a lot to consider here – there is the melody; the lyrics and the backing. How much have they actually written themselves? For example, they have written the lyrics and the basic tune, but do they stipulate the saxophone solo as well or the violin introduction, or the specific volume and tempo of the drums?

Although they all sing their own song, some of them play their own instruments as well (four of the male artists played their own guitar), so clearly they wrote those parts; should they be given more credit for it? I am very impressed that these people are prepared to stand up in public and be judged – that’s a brave and commendable thing to do, so even if I don’t like the song, I admire the effort from all of them.

It is not, however, a level playing field. Are we voting for the song or the performance? Some of the songs might be better if performed by someone else, whereas some could only be sung by the writer or they would lose all their impetus. Some had beautiful backing harmonies, which may or may not have been written. It’s actually a very different matter and is never clarified. I based my judgements on whether I would want to listen to the song again and whether I would buy it if I had the opportunity.

Before I get down to the individual songs, it would be remiss of me not to mention the hosts, Shaun Vining and Sam Hillman (who was also the musical producer and a backing singer). These two amused the audience (Sam performed an energetic hip-hop number at the start; Shaun parodied a couple of classics on acoustic guitar) and chatted with the artists after each song. They did a great job as did all the performers and it was a highly entertaining night out.

And so to the songs themselves...

1. Point of View by Max Gunn
On the evidence of this performance, Max has boundless charisma. He says he “sat down with his guitar one night and wrote a sad song which changed his point of view and gave him a different outlook on life”. The slow, soul-searching intro with the single guitar (which Max plays himself) builds up as the drums kick in to assist repetitive chords and the inspired addition of a trumpet before a false ending and a final conclusion. He runs out of words half-way through the song and it all sounds a bit too Simple Minds to my taste.

2. Freedom by Katy McNeil
Katy says she wants to “write stuff that is real, intelligent and meaningful; that tells a story or reflects politics and provokes an emotion”. And this is what she has tried to do, although the lyrics about global suffering are a little clichéed: ‘Will you hear the cries of freedom? Will you see the tears of freedom? Will you help those in need of freedom?’ The arrangement and her voice, however, more than compensate. The big band sound and brass section provide an excellent accompaniment to her grunty vocals and the swelling choral backing.
 

3. See You Cry by Peti Seiuli
Peti claims Samoan and English ancestry which is evident in his music – he began writing songs for the church before moving on to popular songs and contemporary folk. With a laid-back style and bare feet he sings the sound of sunshine and lazy Sunday afternoons. This is an unashamed love song with a self-deprecating feel; ‘Everything I do is to make you smile/ Sometimes it works even only for a while’. The back-rocking beats are suffused with reggae roots and enhanced with syncopated drums. The tune is familiar and catchy and could withstand repeated listening. I can picture lying in a field somewhere in Hampshire with the sound of this song wafting in the smoky air.

4. Realise by Jazzmine Pearse
Apparently “it’s not important to have a boyfriend – you can live by yourself and be happy.” Such are the pearls of teenage wisdom that grace this song. Jazzmine is a pretty girl with a pretty voice. She sings in an American accent and postures, pouts and poses with lots of foot stomping and hair tossing, à la Avril Lavigne. The arrangement is fairly basic and predictable, but the stuff of teen marketers’ dreams. I probably would have liked this when I was 14.

5. Not Afraid of Heights by Thomas Brinsley
Thomas has written an original number with refreshing potential. If it is derivative of anything, it is of a Rolling Stones ballad in their early 70s phase, and that is nothing to be ashamed of. I still haven’t got a clue what the song is really about although I like the lyrics such as ‘I’m inclined to lie/ Like I’m coming down’. They are coupled with an unpredictable melody that ranges from sing-a-long folk to aching soul. From the violin intro and the Spanish guitar (played by Thomas) through to the solid bass and sassy backing vocals, this song has an undeniable (and indefinable) powerful undercurrent and proves that white boys can sing the blues.
 

6. Don’t Throw It Away by Ailsa and Lindsay Woods
The song, Lindsay tells us, is “kind of about relationships, but also about this moment”. It has a harder, rockier sound than any of the others so far, and I like the lyrics; ‘You like her taste/ Shows you a flawless dress/ She knows it’s not her best/ But it’s okay’. A catchy chorus, solid bass line, stand-out lead guitar by Lindsay, and a build to a crescendo combine to make this exactly the kind of tune you can imagine pogo-ing to at a gig. It has a touch of Van Halen about it in an 80s rock kind of way and, most importantly, it’s fun.

7. Who Are You Really? by Maeve-Rua, Junior and Nina Kopa
The family unit are something like the Jackson Five, except there are three of them, which makes for ease of harmony. The structure of their song is a basic verse/ chorus/ verse/ chorus affair with each family member having a go at singing solo. There is definite vocal aptitude here and maybe, with development, there could be song-writing talent as well.

8. He Is Coming For Me by Pearly McGrath
I’m instantly suspicious of any non-hymn with religious connotations, which raises my hackles against Pearly’s ‘He is coming for me, He is coming for me/ Son of glory he is coming, He is coming for me’. By the end of the number, however, I have goosebumps that are certainly not of aversion. The song commences with a metronomic beat (is that a xylophone?) and builds through drums, guitars and a crashing piano, pausing with a dramatic break before a breath-taking climax. It’s impatient, incessant, and energetic; layered with Pearly’s sensual and strong vocals, it’s almost orgasmic, which is not what I had expected. Imagine Dead Can Dance mixed with Transglobal Underground. I was surprised, and pleasantly.

9. Spite by Chris Parvin
This song has a full band sound and packs a whopping punch. Chris has layered levels of musical dexterity and lyrical brilliance. Like the best of Elvis Costello or Billy Bragg, the angst and pain comes through in the humour and intelligence. In fact this song has more lyrics than any other number of the night – for example: ‘She tossed her hair and tossed away my peace of mind/ Like a kitten in a killing sack.’ Chris moves about the stage in a parody of a rock star while still exuding sincerity and passion. He is a show veteran and knows how to work both the microphone and the audience. While this makes for an excellent live performance, it also demands further listening, to pick up on all the tricks and complexities of the subtle arrangement.

10. Blow All Our Money by Sarah Foley
The song is meant to reflect the casual attitude of Queenstown party-going folk and it does to begin with, although it trails off towards the end. It is pitched on a very even keel and utilises a tight range throughout. Sarah has a grunt to her voice that would suit a rockier beat – currently it is all hook with no line or sinker. Sarah has talent and she does stand out; with a bit more experience and development, she could be one to watch in the future.
 

11. Say Goodbye by James Rae
The death of a friend inspired James to write this slow, sentimental ballad. He says the music came instantly and the lyrics came along later, which is evident when listening to the song. There is a danger that it might become mawkish: ‘To see you lying there so still/ The girl that I once knew/ Your hand once warm but now so cold/ I guess our time is through’, but he adds a touch of warmth to his performance which rescues it. James is a good musician and the guitar (which he plays himself), violin and drums ebb and flow nicely in a poignant arrangement.

12. I’m Done (Emotional Vampire) by Katy Anderson
Katy begs to differ with an earlier statement; emo is not in for her anymore. She has written a rant about people who suck energy from your soul, and the decision to leave them behind. ‘Strain to pull away from it, searching for a sign/ I’m saving myself from you, has to be the right time.’ She says she likes to write “poems with a melody behind them” and this is a good stab at that (if you’ll pardon the expression). The mixture of guitar riffs, melody and judicious pauses is reminiscent of early U2 or Tom Petty, and there’s a healthy grunge element in there too. Katy jumps around the stage and barely restrains her inner rock chick.

I am clearly out of synch with the Queenstown voting public. My top three were:
1. Spite by Chris Parvin
2. He Is Coming For Me by Pearly McGrath
3. Don’t Throw It Away by Ailsa and Lindsay Woods

The night I went, the winners were:
1. Freedom by Katy McNeil
2= I’m Done (Emotional Vampire) by Katy Anderson
2= Blow All Our Money by Sarah Foley
3= Realise by Jazzmine Pearse
3= Who Are You Really? by Maeve-Rua, Junior and Nina Kopa

I guess it just goes to show that the world don’t move to the beat of just one drum and there really are different notes for different folks. Thankfully.

Green Goblin

Congratulations to Mark Cavendish on winning his eighteenth Tour de France stage (his third so far in 2011), and the green jersey - it's a good colour; it suits him. I'm impressed by the way he came back from his defeat on the line the previous day at the hands (or feet) of André Greipel to reclaim his dominance - few can beat him in a sprint; he's an amazing little Manx dynamo. Good for him.

It's Never as Good as the First Time

We are having a mid-season break from Dr Who. This might be a good thing: I need to pause for breath and to recap, as the plot developments have come thick and fast, distorting perceived realities and suggesting thast time is, indeed, 'bendy-wendy'. I like this new series, although it is more sci-fi geekdom and less personality-fest than on David Tennant's watch, but the latest instalment of Harry Potter is out next week and I can only cope with one time-travelling, parallel inter-dimensional universe thing at a time.

I mentioned to a friend how I was hooked on Dr Who and wondered whether I really should have grown out of it by now, or whether it was actually no longer targeted at kids. Apparently what I should be watching is Torchwood as that is the 'adult version', but I am worried that like every other spin-off ever, it will be crap.

Yes, I know, that's a bold statement, but can you really think of any spin-off that is better than the original? Tucker's Luck, Going Straight and Joey spring to mind. So, no, then. Him Outdoors loved the chaos of Tiswas, but it didn't translate to the anarchy of O.T.T., which seemed more like 'Try Too Hard'. And while Dallas and Dynasty may have been bad, they were still compulsively watchable, unlike Knot's Landing and The Colbys which were convulsively execrable.

Apparently Boston Legal came out of The Practice, which I find interesting because I never watched the latter (although it was the fore-runner) but enjoyed Boston Legal immensely. Lawyers and doctors series (Holby City out of Casualty for example) make fertile grounds for spin-offs it seems, as do detectives and cops in general. Inspector Morse was very good and I like the emergence of Lewis as he stalks the streets of Oxford with the sardonic Hathaway in tow.

I remember (in 1980, preceeding Juliet Bravo by four months) Jill Gascoine as a (shock horror) female police detective in LWT's The Gentle Touch. My mum loved it. I preferred C.A.T.S Eyes (1985-87) partly because I was a bit older, and partly because it featured Don Warrington, whom I adored, and Leslie Ash whom I admired (who didn't want to look like her in the 80s before she discovered Lee Chapman and plastic surgery?)

From cartoons to teenage angst, children's programmes have proved a rich seam to mine. Captain Caveman and the Teen Angels began on Scooby Doo; The Perils of Penelope Pitstop and Dastardly and Muttley in their Flying Machines all emerged from Wacky Races; Sesame Street, The Muppet Show and Fraggle Rock are all inter-linked; and Count Duckula hatched from Danger Mouse (an intriguing zoological phenomenon).

Party of Five (remember that? It was the first time I'd ever heard of a boy being called Bailey - I thought it was the name of a dog or a drink) led to Time of Your Life (I don't remember that); The Six Million Dollar Man spawned The Bionic Woman (as it were); similarly Hercules: The Legendary Journeys begat Xena: Princess Warrior (a favourite of my Dad's - I can't imagine why...); and, from a more innocent era when kids were encouraged to do things with their hands that didn't involve computers, Vision On evolved into Take Hart (not to mention The Morph Files).

Frasier was okay, but true Cheers fans will claim it is nowhere near as good as its parent programme. Not that I was ever a fan of Who's the Boss, but I did watch it occasionally when I lived in New York - not so the sequels Living Dolls or The Upper Hand. It wasn't my era, but I believe many people who liked Man About the House were less than enamoured of the follow-ups, George and Mildred and Robin's Nest.

Sometimes you just have to be in the moment and, if you try to recreate something later, it just doesn't work. Sometimes it really is the X-Factor that can't be reproduced. There are few more depressing developments than Coronation Street: Open All Hours which featured several Street characters (Steve, Vicky, Vikram, Bet, and Reg Holdsworth) floundering in Brighton. Truely it was painful.

And then you get the weird crossover, which isn't so much a spin-off as an odd collaboration - such as when the character of Tanya Turner from Footballer's Wives was sent to prison and ended up in three episodes of Bad Girls. Has this sort of thing happened before, and is there a name for it, I wonder?

Characters can emerge from a trial on a comedy series (or chat show in the case of Dr Phil) and sometimes steal the show from their screen nativity. French and Saunders gave us Absolutely Fabulous; The Mary Whitehouse Experience conjured up both Newman and Baddiel in Pieces and The Imaginatively Titled Punt and Dennis Show; we have That Peter Kay Thing to thank for Phoenix Nights, and Naked Video is responsible for Rab C Nesbitt - make of that what you will.

So, being as it never is as good as the first time, why do the producers of shows think it might be? Why do they tarnish the lustre of successful programmes with at best dull sequels? Are they ever hopeful that they might find The One, or are they just going through the motions, lazily milking the cash cow. I am reminded of a comic who once reckoned that casting director for a sequel must be the easiest job ever: 'That Arnold Schwarzenegger was quite good as the Terminator in the last film - what say we get him for the next one?'

Huevos Rancheros



One of life's pleasures is a lazy Sunday breakfast with cups of coffee and a peruse of the papers - that's one of the many bonuses of not having children. Often we go out for breakfast and the experience takes all morning. Otherwise we have it at home, on the patio in summer or by the fire in winter.

Eating at home narrows the options somewhat, however, as, much though I enjoy cooking, I can't be bothered to faff about in the kitchen first thing in the morning. So breakfast has to be a compromise of maximum effect for minimum effort and this version of Mexican ranch-style eggs sits perfectly on the menu:

4 x rashers bacon, finely chopped
1 x onion, pleeled and finely chopped
2 x Tbsp oil
1 x 400g can tomatoes (spiced or add your own)
2 x Tbsp finely chopped coriander or parsley
4 x eggs
tortillas or toast

Cook the bacon and onion in the oil in a frying pan over a moderately hot heat for 5-7 minutes until the bacon and onion are golden and very fragrant. Add tomatoes and coriander or parsley and simmer for 2 minutes.

Make four wells in the centre of the sauce and break an egg into each well. Cover and simmer for about four minutes until the eggs are cooked.

Serve an egg with a little sauce on top of a warm tortilla or slice of buttered toast.

Time flies...

The other day I was ‘working hard’ in the office when my colleague asked me if I had my mobile phone on me.

Well, it wasn’t on me because I was wearing a pocket-less outfit, so I went out the back to my handbag and rummaged around through all of the shap (combination word because I don’t think I’m allowed to put either of them individually in print) that breeds in there to spill out at embarrassing moments, and found my phone, which I then presented to said colleague expecting her to use it to send a text or do something radical like make a phone call.

She looked at it and then went to set the clock on the wall to the correct time. Actually, it was one (or possibly thirteen depending on which way you look at it) hours out because I haven’t altered it since I got back from England about a year ago.

I don’t need my phone to mark off the hours until wine o’clock, because I wear (cue gasp of incredulity from anyone under thirty) a watch! Yes, on my wrist. It has clever little hands – a big one for minutes, a little one for hours and a skinny one for seconds, and through this archaic analogue device I am able to tell the time.

Apparently very few people do these days. According to a newspaper article (so it must be true) 28% of people surveyed don’t even own a watch. Have you tried to buy a new watch-strap at the jewellers recently? It’s not easy. When I found a watch-repair outlet that sold leather watch straps I was mightily pleased – life is full of special moments.

When I asked if they were calf leather, the chap told me that they were, so I was a little nonplussed when I looked at the back to find it printed ‘genuine lizard’. Next time I need to purchase one, I probably shouldn’t be surprised to find the words ‘genuine dinosaur’.