Friday Five: Best Films 2011

One of my favourite things about this time of year is all the lists of best this and that over the past twelve months. Of course, I love lists as much as the next person, so I shall join in.

5 Favourite Films of 2011:

1. The Trip (dir. Michael Winterbottom) - Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon play sort of themselves in a semi-scripted not-quite road trip as they travel the North of England in the bleak (and beautiful) mid-winter, dining at restaurants and 'critiquing' the food - "the tomato soup was tomatoey. And soupy." - while arguing over who does the best Michael Caine impressions. What could be better? Not a lot. This homesick-inducing film would have to be my favourite of the year.
2. Midnight in Paris (dir. Woody Allen) Woody Allen directs Americans in Paris in a time-tripping romantic comedy with a clear love of the city throughout the ages, including the present.
3. Too Big to Fail (dir. Curtis Hanson) Excellent - great acting, snappy dialogue and a huge issue: focussing on the Lehman Brothers' bankruptcy and the subsequent global financial meltdown. It is delivered with intelligence and dignity, bravely putting forward both sides of the argument.
4. Limitless (dir. Neil Burger) If you could take an unauthorised drug that would lead you to be smarter and better at everything without knowing the consequences, would you? Of course you would. What happens when the consequences catch up with you? Bradley Cooper may or may not find out in this smart sci-fi thriller with several twists.
5. The First Grader (dir. Justin Chadwick) Beautifully shot although entirely predictable film about an 84-year-old man attempting to go to primary school in Kenya, to take advantage of the new free education system. If you allow yourself to be swept up in the emotion, you will be moved even if you are manipulated.

New Year starts here

My New Year's Eve celebrations have begun early - Stevie's back! He comes off the bench at Anfield to captain the team to victory and score a goal himself. You beauty - pass the champagne.

Friday Five: The Sea

For someone who loves the sea as much as I, it may seem a little strange that I live almost as far from it is as possible in this country. Now it's not like I live in America, Australia or Russia or anything like that, where it could be miles to the nearest wave - I am still at most a three-hour drive from the big wet wobbly thing that fish swim in. But I like to get closer when I can, and this week Him Outdoors had a couple of days off work so we drove to the Catlins and spent a couple of days by the seaside.

5 Things I Love About the Sea:

1. The Sight - I remember as a child being terribly excited to be the first to see the sea when we were driven towards it, the four of us cramped and sweaty in the back seat. I love the rocky shores, sandy beaches, or sheer cliffs that meet the water, and I love the lighthouses and tales of shipwrecks, smugglers, and lost treasures. Whether it's a windswept barren landscape, a working port full of ships and cargo, or a bustling coastal village, the place where the land meets the sea is incredibly evocative.
2. The Sound - crashing waves, howling winds or gentle splashes; that sound backed up with the calling of seagulls is the rhythm of my dreams.
3. The Smell - salty sea air, tangy seaweed and the sharp scent of vinegar on chips - that's the sea for me and it smells of holidays.
4. The Taste - salt on your skin and icecream on your tongue... I don't know if sea air really does sharpen the appetite, but there is nothing better than eating fresh seafood or shellfish in sight of the sea. We once had coconut crab on a beach in Vanuatu and, although I felt a little guilty at the sight of the crustacean brethren scuttling about nearby, it was one of the best meals I've ever tasted.
5. The Feel - purely physically, walking in the sea, with sand beneath your feet and waves swrirling round your calves is about as restorative as it gets. A morning dip is a divine way to cool off and to dive with the marine life is an overwhelming privilege. And on a slightly more metaphorical level, the feel of limitless possiblities I sense when I look at the horizon is hopeful and inspiring, even on my darkest days. The sea has power - use it wisely.

My Newest Favourite Thing: Simon's Cat

No explanations necessary.

Friday Five: Festive Birthday

Him Outdoors has a birthday today - happy birthday to him. People often say how awful it must have been as a child to have your birthday so close to Christmas. I share this opinion, but not because of the dread of the combined birthday and Christmas present - quite frankly, if you are not religious, why are you celebrating Christmas with gift giving anyway?

No, the reason for my antipathy for the festive birthday is that I like to celebrate as many separate occasions as possible (and deliberately got married six months away from my birthday to stagger the anniversaries). We have friends whose daughter was born on Christmas Day (no, they didn't call her Holly or Carol or something equally naff) and she celebrates her birthday in the morning and Christmas in the afternoon, which seems to work for them. So, because these lists are meant to be positive, I have come up with

5 Good Things about Having a Birthday at Christmas-time:

1. You generally get the day off (particularly when you're a child and school has broken up for the holidays)
2. Most people have decided that if they haven't done it yet, they're not going to, so have relaxed and are in a good mood
3. The atmosphere in the pubs is good and lively (but not frantic and faintly desperate as it can be at New Year)
4. Chocolate, biscuits, cake, sweets, and general party food is everywhere!
5. Champagne is on special offer

Friday Five: Cover Versions

Very few cover versions can compare with the original and most remind me of bad karaoke. I knew people like to hear tunes that they know, rather than sometimes take a risk on an unfamiliar sound, but I've never really got the point of cover versions. 

Having said that, there are some that are fantastic and make me realise why bands bother - I realise in all cases, I actually really like the original too, but the 'new' treatment of it is different enough to make it work in another context.

5 Top Cover Versions:

1. I Just Don't Know What to Do with Myself - The White Stripes: I love the Dusty version (she is my favourite singer, after all), but this adaptation turns soulful angst into impotent rage - love it
2. My Way - Sid Vicious: apparently this is the most covered song ever. Frank Sinatra did such a great job that this is the only other version worth bothering with
3. You Sexy Thing - Cud: this was the version Him Outdoors wanted me to walk down the aisle to at our wedding. As it was in a church, I opted instead for You'll Never Walk Alone
4. Rent - Carter USM: The original Pet Shop Boys version was sublime; this is in another world (even Neil Tennant said he preferred this version) - seen live at Machester Academy (1990) one of the most thrillingly vibrant (and actually violent) gigs I've ever been to
5. I Think We're Alone Now - Snuff: bearing in mind the fact that in 1987 Tiffany got to number one in both the UK and the US with an appalling cover of this song, which first hit the charts twenty years earlier, performed by Tommy James and the Shondells, the fact that the Snuff version is usually overlooked is an absolute travesty

Just Plain Stupid

Jacob Palmer (Ryan Gosling) instructs Cal Weaver (Steve Carell) in the art of looking fine

I watched Crazy, Stupid Love. on the way home from Sydney. It was perfect plane viewing – pretty obvious and not at all demanding with some good solid acting and snappy dialogue. The official blurb is, “A middle-aged husband's life changes dramatically when his wife asks him for a divorce. He seeks to rediscover his manhood with the help of a new-found friend Jacob, learning to pick up girls at bars.” Actually, it is more complex and subtle than that, but for the purposes of this post, let’s go with that.

Jacob, played by Ryan Gosling, is the highlight of the film. His arrogance and assurance (all of which turn out to be built on image and lacking in substance) are delivered with panache and one-liners Oscar Wilde might have written were he alive today. As he gives Cal (the husband) dating advice, he says cynically, “The war between the sexes is over and we won. We won the minute they started doing pole dancing as exercise.”

I spluttered with indignation over this line, because the first part is just so wrong and the second part so sadly true. A friend of mine, whom I considered liberated, educated and of above-average intelligence, recently told me that she had begun pole dancing lessons for fitness. My jaw dropped. I was lost for words – not something that happens to me too often. “Why?” It was all I could ask.

Her answer was highly unsatisfactory. For the record it was something along the lines of having a bit of fun and trying something new. Fair enough. Is it necessary to do it in a skimpy bikini? Apparently yes – it helps you grip the pole better – the tassels on your nipples are optional. A pathetic excuse: I have seen people hold onto lamp-posts at a perpendicular angle while fully clothed and, yes, admittedly, half-intoxicated. There are a gazillion sports she could have chosen to help her get fit and strong that wouldn’t have upset me the least. Actually, I don't particularly like netball, but at least it isn’t aimed firmly at the sleaze market.

I know there is much popular psychobabble about reclaiming negative sexual stereotypes. This is apparently why women choose to dress in tiny tube dresses and ankle-breaking stilettos, or why teenagers wear pink sparkly Playboy t-shirts – not because they are desperate to get men to notice them, honest! I’ve heard people pontificate about empowerment, control and turning the male gaze in on itself, but that’s basically crap.

If pole dancing is really so liberating and aerobically challenging, why don’t men do it? If a woman wants to develop her upper body and core strength she could try gym-work, water-skiing, wind-surfing, X-country skiing, swimming, yoga, rowing, athletic field events, gymnastics, rugby, basketball… The list is endless. If she wants to dance then there are infinite varieties she could attempt from ballet to tap, ballroom to hip-hop. Pole ‘dancing’ is a very limited form of movement all things considered. If she wants to support the male-dominated sex industry and present herself as a hooker (albeit a flexible one) then she should consider pole dancing.

It may just be the latest craze, but it is one that debases women (or, worse, makes them debase themselves) by objectifying themselves and creeping back to a misogynistic past. It’s not just a bit of fun; it’s dirty, filthy dancing on the graves of the women who fought (in some instances with their lives) for our right to be equal. Women have a responsibility not to trample on this right so carelessly.