Meghan is a Punk Rocker

Who said this?

Little known fact: I am an insomniac and create playlists when trying to fall asleep on the road so if I create them in excess, please forgive. This playlist is a combination of what's been shuffling around my iPod at the moment. Noonday Underground's "Boy Like a Timebomb" will be stuck in your head after one listen, it's fantastic. I have been a huge fan of The Dead Milkmen since high school ever since an ex-boyfriend told me they would change my life. Other additions including Wilco and Siouxsie and the Banshees are absolute musts.

Any idea? No? Okay, I'm going to tell you - the insomniac, Banshees'-loving, Hornby-emulating girl is none other than Meghan McCain, daughter of current presidental nominee John McCain (R-AZ). McCain, along with two other girls, are documenting the campaign trail over at McCainBlogette, where you can follow an onging feature called Blogette Playlists.

I'm not going to lie and say I wasn't surprised to see Sleater-Kinney, TV On The Radio and Pulp on Meghan's lists. There's nothing odd about a twenty-something woman loving Modest Mouse or Garng of Four or the Stooges - but when you look at who her dad is, I sort of assumed she'd be the kind of person who loves Shania Twain or listens to Bruce Springsteen unironically. Or follow in daddy's footsteps and like ABBA. (Okay, ABBA is awesome. But that quote is just too good to pass)

But c'mon! Even I can't find much to criticise about her music taste. These playlists are actually good, and full of interesting tidbits. Want to know how winning a Florida Primary feels? "It feels like The Doors song 'Break on Through'..." And how appropriate is her choice of Smiths song? (Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want).

This is in no way an endorsement for McCain *shudder*. But hey, we Siouxsie and the Banshees fans are few and far between, so kudos, Meghan McCain!

Three short reviews

Ratatouille
It seems as if I’ve been waiting for Ratatouille for years. Okay, a slight exaggeration but it certainly has been a long time coming. Pixar’s latest has only just got an Irish release (well, last week, but I only caught it today). It seems like an odd release date, perhaps timed hopefully to coincide with the up-coming half-term? It’s far from being a kids film, though - a lengthy running time and the absence of Finding Nemo-ish belly laughs take care of that. Indeed, in the cinema packed with kids that I attented, the film’s soundtrack was complemented by a continous stream of chatter from the seats surrounding me. The noise was only a temporary annoyance, though - I was soon well and truly hooked, the delicate aromas of Pixar’s stew drawing me in.

A truly lovely film, with the scenery the best we’ve seen yet. The grimey sewer water through which our snootily loveable protaganist Remy splutters and swims is rendered almost better than the underwater scenes in Finding Nemo; the CGI Paris glitters (okay, it’s hard to make Paris look bad, but they had to create one out of nothing) and there’s an impressive kinesis to it. The chase scenes are beautifully fluid with no Bourne-style jerkiness. Peter O’ Toole gets the best vocal part, having fun as the harsh food critic, Anton Ego (who is the image of Eamon de Valera. No? Anybody see that?). For Pixar devotees, there’s also a cute little self-referential sight gag; Remy straining to grab ahold of his brother’s paw as they hurtle down the river is strongly reminiscent of the ending to Toy Story.

Unfortunately, comparing it to Toy Story doesn’t do Ratatouille any favours. True, ToY Story came out of nowhere to charm and delight, nobody had any expectaions and therefore everyone was bowled over. It was shockingly good, and nobody could accuse Ratatouille of a similar effect - everyone expects it to be great, it’s Pixar! It’s definitely not as funny as it could be, the middle section drags a little and one could possibly accuse Pixar of resting on their laurels (oh goody, yet another anthromorphic buddy/outsider film!). I thought all of these criticisms whilst watching the film, but as the credits rolled I realised I was ready to forgive the film it’s missteps. There’s a scene where hundreds of rats converge on a restaurant kitchen and set to work cooking a meal. It’s a flurry of energy and joie de vivre, a huge undertaking of colour and movement and small significant details that’s carried off with such aplomb and verve that I was completely gob smacked. The teamwork (undertaken by both the rats as they frantically work to create the perfect dish and the animators as they carefully create the scene ) is astounding, and it was that moment that I finally caved in - Ratatouille is in it’s heart a good film and there are moments of brilliance. I’m looking forward to the studio’s next output - let’s hope they raise that bar.

Rendition
Sometimes I’m kind of shocked that some films get made, especially ones as topical as Rendition. It’s title refers to the US governmental practice of transporting terror suspects to offshore locations where shady thugs are given reign to torture and coerce them, with the freedom of ignoring the US constitution. Here, we are presented with the story of Anwar el-Ibrahmi, a handsome and clever Egyptian who has built a comfortable life for himself in the States, happily married to Reese Witherspoon and working as a chemical engineer. On his way home from a conference in South Africa he is bundled onto a plane to an unknown destination and merciliously tortured. The torture scenes are undoubtedly nasty, he is electrofied, beaten, forced to squat naked in a tiny enclosed space for hours and subjected to the especially horrific technique of waterboarding. It’s hardly the most violence we’ve ever been subjected to, but the fact that it’s based in reality causes many a squirm.

There’s a discomforting double standard at play though; Anwar is well-educated, married to a white woman and Americanized and we are clearly on his side, yet Khalid (Mohammed Khouas), the main character in the Islamic subplot, is (naturally) part of a Jihadist group. Why? Well, the filmmakers wanted to siphon in a handy father-daughter relationship theme and needed to show a human side to the lead torturer, of course and Khalid was the perfect sacrifice. It feels slightly wrong footed, attempting to show a reason behind the malice of the torturer by pushing the sympathetic Khalid into a terrorist group.

At the end of the day, the film stumbles on one major point - we are never told if Anwar is guilty or not-guilty. Well, the film makes it fairly clear that he is, but then where did the allegations come from? The main pieces of evidence used against him are records of his phone calls, but these are quickly forgotten about at the film’s close witout giving us any dislosure. If the phonecalls were fabricated by the government, desperate to find a suspect, then why weren’t we told? It’s a final cop-out and I really, really wish they had taken the final plunge and said “Anwar was singled-out purely for the colour of his skin”, if that’s what they were hinting at. The maddeningly even-handed script makes it explicitly clear that the process isn’t a new thing (“It began under Clinton”) but doesn’t once mention Bush by name, the President who intensified it. Rendition could hardly be called a brave film; it highlights torture, but ultimately fails to condemn it.

I didn’t thoroughly dislike it, though. As a thriller, it’s very taut and engaging. With strong performances from liberal-Hollywood types (Streep, Witherspoon, Arkin, brothers-in-law Gyllenhaal and Sarsgaard) and relative unknowns (Omar Metwally in particular gives good performance in a rough role that requires him to spend most of the film sweaty and naked, begging for his life), Rendition has a worthy gravitas that ensures that it’s a good watch. Sarsgaard may be the best thing about it, but Gyllenhall is also suitably worried-looking throughout and the final scene caused tears in my eyes. Out of the number of Iraq-themed dramas coming our way, Rendition will be far from the worst; it’s enjoyable and well-crafted, yet that final failing lowers it in my estimation.

Kings
I’m finding it very hard to get excited about this film. Solid acting, fine directing, a moving story and it’s lovely to hear Irish spoken on the big screen. Maybe it’s just not emotionally engaging enough, or perhaps I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to see it (it’s quite depressing, but not in the flamboyant way I enjoy, more in the Ken Loach way). There really is nothing especially wrong with it, but the fact that it has been chosen as the Irish Oscar submission hasn’t got me holding my breath.

Michael Clayton (2007) Tony Gilroy

The summer film season is, by it’s very nature, a distracting force. Just remember our summer just gone; a veritable explosion of superheroes, car chases and giant robots. As we slipped into Autumn there came a handful of comedies headed by Seth Rogen, superficially different than the summer blockbusters but ultimately serving the same purpose, distracting people (in our case, a welcome diversion from the non-stop rain). There’s absolutely nothing wrong with setting out to make a film with the primary goal of entertaining people, but sometimes it’s more satisfying to make a film with something to chew on, a little moral ambiguity to get the brain cells churning. So, as the days get shorter and I get back into the routine of study, the cinema offerings get more serious, more literary, more intelligent. Basically, I’m in cinema heaven with the series of political thrillers and serious dramas like Breach, Rendition, A Mighty Heart and Michael Clayton either currently showing or on their way to the cinema.

Michael Clayton is the latest George Clooney vehicle showcasing his intelligence rather than his looks. It’s something I like about Clooney, that even in his most serious political roles he never seems preachy or even as if he’s grabbing for awards. He has a point to make and does so affably, it almost seems as if he isn’t really acting. In this respect, he’s the closest thing we have to a Cary Grant, somebody who just enters a film with enough self-confidence and charm to just be himself. As the eponymous character, a shady man who works as a “fixer” for a law firm, we never really get into the heart of his character, to discover what makes him tick. Personally, I was never quite sure what to make of him. In another setting this could be a problem, but in this case it suits the film perfectly, dealing as it does with lies and obsfucation.

Although Clooney is the film’s biggest sell, Tom Wilkinson delivers a standout performance as a corporate lawyer. His current client, a sinister multinational called UNorth, have murdered hundreds of farmers with a carcinogenic weed killer. Wilkinson eventually goes crazy and turns his back on his professiona duties after neglecting to take his manic-depression medication, a discomforting downward spiral of insanity. Part of Clooney’s job is convincing Wilkinson that his change of heart is a result of the resulting chemical imbalance, but to the viewer there is no doubt that it is the unbelievable guilt of compromising his morals day-in, day-out that has triggered the madness. The film’s best scene occurs with Wilkison, alone and raving in his apartment, playing UNorth’s advertising spot on repeat, the comforting words and images of small, multicultural children familiar to anyone who has ever winced at the friendly posturing of big businesses. The high-tech audio-visual equipment he uses have all been paid for with the blood of innocents, yet even this chilling scene never reaches the tense heights it could achieve. I have a feeling this is a deliberate move on the part of the director, the whole film is coated in a very slick, corporate feel which furthers the subject matter.

Bolstered by a fine supporting cast and a dense script, Michael Clayton is a head scratching treat. It won’t be for everyone, there’s little flashy or fun, and a quick glance on the IMDB boards show that many people consider it boring, but I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Pinko!

A deviation from the usual entertainment-based posting to, shock horror, a political post! I try to refrain from talking pol on the blog, because I will almost invariably make a fool of myself and/or get angry at somebody. But I've just taken one of those tests that determine your political bent.


Pretty much what I'd expect, seeing as this is the third time I've taken this kind of test (I do one every year, therabouts) and I've always ended up in that general area. Take the test here and let me know what you get!