Uh uh uh uh

I wrote this post some while back after seeing the film in the internet. I was hoping it would get a DVD release at least but, sadly, it looks to be languishing in touring with few screenings. Anyway, without further ado –

No, I’m not reviewing a porn film, at least, not directly. Instead it’s a documentary called 9 to 5: Days In Porn. The last documentary film I watched on this subject was Sex: The Annabel Chong Story which I cannot recommend highly enough if you want to be thoroughly and utterly depressed.

9to5 is not so focused on one individual, preferring to take a slightly broader look at some of the people in the adult entertainment business who treat it as just that, a business, and have chosen to make their living from it. Some have taken to it as a career, some a way to earn a bit of extra cash quickly and some see it as a stepping stone to bigger things.

The director treats the subject matter as his subjects do; as a way to make a living. There’s little in the way of salaciousness on display, the documentary camera preferring to hang back and observe what’s happening on the periphery as well as the main stage. At the end of the day he manages to make the erotic industry thoroughly unerotic as video shoots are shown to be stop/start affairs where the performers look bored between takes, lounge at bars, chat on the phone, drink beer and wait for the paycheck.

The documentary follows a number of people in the industry; performers, directors, agents and health care staff. All of these people are given free reign to speak their mind and there doesn’t seem to be any manipulation to play up anyone as a hero or villain. Some come across better than others but this is probably as much a product of the viewer’s own prejudices rather than anything else. There are a couple of participants who appear unsure of their motives for being in the business (aside from money) and tellingly, it is these who seem to have left the industry when the credits roll. We also learn that one “is better” which is a relief. We never know what is wrong but there’s an undercurrent through the feature.

This is a very interesting and entertaining documentary, but one that will probably be heavily censored if it ever surfaces on a UK DVD. That would be a shame as it would undermine the tone of the piece that this is an industry populated by willing participants. Recommended.

Wan Dae in the Pentlands

Ah, what a sodding great Saturday that was. My first solo multi-sport event (yes, hard to believe I’ve been dancing around the edges of this sport for so long without entering many events) and I’d stepped up from the five hour to the eight hour due to be being called a wimp. sigh.

So I decided to do the run first and set off into the Pentlands wearing my unused Mud Claws (they’re great). The first activity I reached was a crawl through a pipe which was so bad as it was clean. From there we set off straight up the side of the hill to checkpoints two and three. From there, the rot set in. I set off to try and grab a couple of the outliers but made an amazing navigational cock-up and missed both of them netting myself a massive 51 minute split between points so early on in the day.

After that I headed back to the bike in the hope of making it to the kayak stage in time. I didn’t. Again, shite route choice saw my pushing my bike up a muddy hill. Then it was three checkpoints in a row and I started to feel better. I definitely felt better when I rolled up to a checkpoint to be greeted by a marshal who recognised me and declared that was followed would be revenge for all the pain I’d inflicted as a marshal. It made me smile and luckily it was an easy checkpoint.

After that, I just kept pedalling and went for a couple of outliers on the bike with much more success than the running. After finding my last checkpoint, I was painfully getting myself up the hill when Gary rolled over the summit and started snapping pictures. I’m sure they’ll look great! Actually, I can’t wait to see them.

From there it was an easy ride home, part of which involved a sketchy descent that I’d wimped out on last year with Sandy and Tim. This time I flew down it without thinking too much about it. Result!

Last time I made that descent though, I managed to severly bruise my tailbone riding over the bumpy grass at the foot of it which saw me being pretty much unable to walk properly for a few days. This time I saw the dip coming, but only at the last minute. This time by front wheel stopped dead and the bike and I went for a somersault. Pain. Yay for helmets. Just a few hundred metres to home though so it was easy to pick myself up and carry on to the bottom.

Next time I’ll make better nav decisions as well as choosing what order to do the sections in. However, fucking awesome day out.

Reason #1

I think today is a good example of exactly why I finally got around to learning to drive. I set off this morning for Perth, picked up my Dad and then we headed further north to Glen Shee to climb four Munros. Not much in and of itself, but we’ve done that more in the last few months than we’ve probably managed in the last few years. As we stood enjoying the view at one point it really struck me that that was why I’d done it.

We made an amusing navigational error quite early on in the day. After cresting the first summit we decided that we should definitely take a bearing and walk on it since the cloud had enveloped us. This would have been fine if we’d bothered to stop and do it properly but no, we lined ourselves up once and set off. We wandered through bog and peat until we decided that should probably find out where we were. Out came the GPS which gave us a grid ref but since it didn’t match were we had planned to be we discounted it as faulty. Much checking of the map and airy-fairy “we must be around here” later, we decided the GPS was most likely right, set out South and lo, came to a recognisable point which was a fair bit off where we’d intended. No matter, we just reorganised which order we’d visit the summits in and set off again.

Plus points for the day; taking a stove up the hill is a brilliant idea and one I’ll repeat many times.

Bad points; my new Montane Featherlite is shit. It works well as a windproof but there’s so much fabric involved it flaps and inflates, making a racket in the process. That’s probably going to get ebayed and I’ll pick up a GT instead.

Too Soon

I think it’s fair to say I was rather upset yesterday morning when I went into Scotmid for some breakfast. There, by the door, were selection boxes. Christmas fucking selection boxes. We’re not even halfway through September and there are Christmas related goods in the shops. I can tell this is going to be a long seasonal malaise.

I Guess I Should Confess…

…that I am starting to get old.

I say that because time seems to be flying past me at the moment. As Kas said at work today, the days drag by but any unit of time longer than that flies by.

Anyway, last weekend I went back to my marshalling ways to help out at the Kielder 100, the first time a 100 mile single lap mountain bike race has been organised in the UK. It really was a great event though I can really only comment about two small points in the course. From an organisational standpoint though, everything went off without a hitch and there weren’t any injuries. Us marshals were exceedingly well looked after with free drinks and plenty of food. I also came home with a rather nice Montane Featherlite Smock.

That was Saturday and then on Sunday I drove home in time to watch District 9 before discussing it with Dave and Iain over at Sonic’s Ring. It was a lot of fun and I’d like to do it again, next time actually bringing some coherent opinions with me.

In summary; District 9 was a very good film and a hell of a lot of fun. I wasn’t too keen on the flipping between documentary and drama and I also thought there were more interesting stories that could have been told with the premise, but overall it’s well worth a trip to the cinema.

Another one down

Not a lot of note today; went to work, came home, went sprinting in the rain, made some tea, played some Sam ‘n’ Max.

The Lives of Others is one of those films that lots of people raved about so I thought I should probably watch. I don’t mean that to sound pissy or anything as I wanted to see the film on its own merits, it’s just that a few recommendations were from the type of people who say they like to watched subtitled films and subtitles aren’t a genre. But moving on.

The film’s set in mid-eighties East Berlin and follows a member of the Stasi as he is set the task with finding dirt on a leading, socialist playwright at the behest of a crooked higher-up who wants to sleep the the playwright’s partner. All quite simple really, except the up-till-now unshakeable member of the wire tapping brigade immediately falls for the girlfriend as well and so starts to find it difficult to pass on possibly damning information which may wreck her life.

And there’s my first problem with the film; it starts off with a good central premise but without knowing much about the character, so Wiesler’s infatuation with Sieland felt a little cold. The film also ends with a horribly sentimental final scene and should have stopped sixty seconds earlier. This would have given it a much more poignant ending and I can’t help but feel that the conclusion we have was tacked on to leave the audience with something to smile about.

That said, everything that comes between these two points is excellent. A thoroughly engrossing film with brilliant performances from everyone involved. All of the leads bring an astonishing weight of emotion to the parts, especially Wiesler as he moves further from his training and his loyalties.

On reflection, I’m sure I must have missed something which would explain his change of heart. I probably need to go back and re-examine this one which, given that I watched it less than a month ago, goes to show how much I enjoyed the film. Very highly recommended.

Radio Rental

I’m clearly going soft in the head because this didn’t happen on Friday, it happened on Thursday. I also completely forgot to mention what actually happened on Friday which was that Dad and I went to see Scotland vs. Australia at the Grange and it was good. Australia batted first (thank goodness) and we were treated to a decent show. The last wicket falling on the last ball of the innings was just beautiful. Scotland had a stab at it but then decided to play incredibly defensively and were bowled out.

After that, I joined up with Rae and her pal Scott to go and see Marcus Brigstocke for my last show of the Fringe. I laughed a lot, which isn’t surprising, as he laid into various religions, atheism, agnosticism, iPhone users and Richard Dawkins.

And just to fuck up the timeline of this place even more; today (Monday), I’ve caught up with Defying Gravity (here’s hoping they reveal the big secret next week), finished the job of waxing lounge door number one which I started six months ago and removed the old/applied a new seal around the bath. Because of all this the house stinks to high heaven of various fumes. I was going to stick a new air freshener in the bathroom in an attempt to combat the heady aroma of silicone (strikingly similar to that salt and vinegar smell you get under a watch strap) but I think the combination might prove lethal.

Growing up

On Friday I got a text from JT on Friday inviting me out for a drink. Naturally, I accepted but it meant finding some way to kill three hours after work. As luck would have it, A Perfect Getaway was still showing. While I was one of the few people (it seems) who didn’t enjoy Pitch Black and has little interest in the Riddick movies, Dr K’s recommendations and the subject matter really drew me to the film.

The Doctor is right in that this film has no right being as much fun as it is. It’s a shitty “take ‘em somewhere isolated, carve ‘em up” b-movie but it manages to toe that line without wavering and still manages to keep you interested for 90 minutes. I remarked to friends afterwards that there are probably three camps of people when it comes to this film; those who don’t notice the cliches and enjoy the film, those who will dismiss it as a by-the-numbers popcorn muncher and those (like me) who will revel in the misdirections, occasional knowing wink and delightfully over the top finale.

After the film I headed to some pub at Bristo Square to meet the others. Being first there I nabbed a chair and others around it by simply sitting down and reading my book. People rarely go near someone reading in a pub on a Friday night, a trick I’ve used to secure tables before.

I took umbrage with a comment at one point during the night even though I’m fairly sure it was meant in jest. I was told that I was old with  my house and garden. To be honest, the flip-side that was offered to this by asking when was the last time I got so drunk I was sick can stay in the past where it belongs. I rarely feel the need to get blind drunk anymore and I can’t remember the last time it happened by mistake. This isn’t to say I don’t enjoy a drink, movie nights regularly leave me feeling a bit rough the next day, but going out to get drunk? That can fuck right off. Apparently I’m also not too old to enjoy photo bombing a friend’s mobile when he’s at the bar.

At this point, I’m also going to stop bothering to tell some people about Zombie Club nights. After the better part of a year of people saying “yeah, that sounds like fun” no-one has ever bothered their arse to turn up. I wonder if they’re just too polite to say they’re not interested. People will watch The Room and proclaim it hilarious yet won’t watch other bad films? I guess we’ll have to show more meme movies. Nah, I think I’ll just leave them to it.

Lazy Day and Inevitable Roundup

Can’t say as I’ve done much of anything today, allowing myself a lazy Sunday after a well-filled week. I don’t mean absolutely nothing though, I rolled out of bed at 9am and did a 5.7km fast run in 27 minutes (IIRC) and bought a pair of non-denim trousers. Buying the trousers was by far the less enjoyable of the two experiences and I still can’t get my head around the fact that some people enjoy shopping for clothes. Ho hum, each to their own.

Apart from that I’ve been trying out a couple of new TV shows. After four episodes of Dark Blue I’m really not sure it’s worth any more of my time. Having shouted at the screen twice for poor writing I’m not sure pushing on would be of much use. There’s no interesting overall arc just a motley collection of stereotypes. And it’s exec-produced by Bruckheimer so it’s very unlikely to ever tax my brain. Nah, it’s dumped.

The second show is Defying Gravity which immediately wins lots of brownie points for being sci-fi and populated with many faces I recognised from various shows and films. Like Dark Blue though, it loses points for poor writing. They might as well have had a character standing in the background of every scene shouting “There’s a mysterious entity controlling the mission! Why won’t anyone listen to me?”. Oh, and if your show is set in 2050, a ten dollar bet is very unlikely to seem worth it. Aside from that it remains reasonably interesting after two episodes so it’s staying on for the time being.

Bad Movie Roundup

Right, since I’ve got nine films I’ve yet to note down I’m going to do them in clumps. Clump one will be those that I’ve seen at the various bad movie nights around Edinburgh.

Last month’s Zombie Club consisted of two of my own discs; Contamination and Lifeforce. I’ve seen Contamination a couple of times but Lifeforce was a new one on me. Turns out it’s something of a favourite amongst sci-fi fans of a certain age as the leading lady is quite fetching and spends most of the film butt naked. The film is great fun and is shlocky, violent sci-fi of the highest order. I was laughing heartily as Patrick Stewart writhed around on the ground being possessed by aliens.

At the last B-Movie Club before the Festival, Gordon and I sat down to watch Shock Waves which is something that’s been on my To Watch list for many years. I really should have watched it sooner because it’s a piece of very entertaining shit but maybe being in the presence of other gore hounds made it that much better. Apparently, genetically modified SS troops like to lie down in rock pools and then sit bolt upright. Great stuff.

This month’s EZC only had one film screening due to a cock-up with reserving the back room of the Brass Monkey. It was my first Jess Franco movie and I now understand why some people were moved to sing “There’s only one Jess Franco!” at Dead by Dawn some years ago. Thank goodness! As I expected, the film is an absolute mess and a hoot at the same time. Franco, for some reason, likes to zoom in just about every shot and seems to do this manually causing the frame to jump around. Pat and I sat at the back of the room in fits of giggles, intoning “zooooom” every time it happened. It kept us entertained. As Pat said afterwards, “Franco has an amazing directorial talent in that he can make an eighty minute movie feel like two hours.”

Inglorious Bastards

I can’t be bothered looking up how to mis-spell it so I’ll be referring the film as Inglorious Bastards.

It was alright. No, it was good, in some places it was very good. I can’t point to a section that was weak unless I include any scene which includes Eli Roth attempting to act. Actually, that really surprised me given how good Tarantino is at coaxing performances from actors. Surely he would see the dailies and think “wow, it really looks like I’ve just cast my mate in this”.

However, the film is too long and not by a few minutes, by about an hour. The plot is paper thin and no amount of well made padding can disguise this. You know how that extra half hour in Death Proof added nothing? Well, you could probably do the same here.

It’s by no means a bad film, Tarantino just needs someone to reign him in. What worries me slightly is that there are clearly scenes that have been left out which means there’s undoubtedly a three-hour cut floating around. Luckily, he never seems to revisit his films (where’s the Kill Bill full version?) so we’ll unlikely to see it.

Recommended, once a fan edit turns up.

(Fuck. I’ve got another six films I haven’t written about yet.)