Tuesday, April 29, 2025
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Review: Curling King

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My favourite films of the year are of a predominantly dark and twisted nature: Tyrannosaur begins with a rage-consumed alcoholic kicking his pet dog to death; Miss Bala follows the exploits of a beauty pageant contestant who becomes embroiled in gangland warfare; Snowtown delves deep into the sadistic affairs of Australia’s most notorious serial killer; and We Need To Talk About Kevin explores the repercussions of a maternal nightmare so heinous that even Polanski couldn’t fully embrace it. After leaving the screening of each one, I was forced to watch back-to-back Disney films for the next 24 hours to avoid a catatonic breakdown. 

But my fifth favourite film, starring a middle-aged ice curling champion with a debilitating case of OCD, seems disproportionally more gleeful by comparison. And yet it never received anywhere near the level of acclaim the previous four attained. Maybe that’s because it’s not the style of ‘misery porn’ so adored by the vast majority of film critics who wish to seek assurance that their own solitary lives do not resemble such harrowing portraits of poverty and despair. Fortunately for me, this Norwegian tale of misadventure (King Curling) does not try to spoon-feed any profound moral lessons or emotional epiphanies, but instead boasts a series of vignettes which include father-and-son Rod Stewart impersonators, a permanently harassed Pepsi deliveryman, a set of poorly executed karate kicks directed at a group of bird watchers, and the most cringe-inducing pole dance in cinematic history. It’s certainly a film that requires a positive suspension of your critical faculties, but there is a strong focus on loyalty and friendship buried beneath such farce.

The plot follows Truls Paulsen (Atle Antonsen) and his eccentric friends on a mission to overcome adversity and win the curling championships – and more importantly the prize money – so they can pay for their childhood hero’s lung operation. So, it’s somewhere between Dodgeball and The Full Monty… on ice (and steroids). I admit that it’s a well-worm formula – a group of men pulling together to compete in a tournament – so no points to Ole Endresen for a screenplay that wholly conforms to the traditional loser-to-winner template, but structural originality is never the point when it comes to slapstick comedy. Instead, the film’s humour relies on bathetic excess, the characters intoning sentiments with immensely earnest gravitas about the inherently funny-looking sport they worship. Consequently, few of the lines are funny on paper; instead, it’s the way in which the thesps deliver them with such severely straight faces that puts the material across so well. The ensemble cast is uniformly excellent; Atle Antonsen, exhibiting a deep Jack Nicholson-esque disquiet, as the menacing Trul is a standout performance, along with Linn Skaber, who shines as his frustrated, slightly demented spouse.

Reminiscent of directors like Bent Hamer and Roy Andersson, the film is full of bizarre encounters and inanely happy colours, giving the whole flavour a bubblegum perkiness which befits the story and its characters. At one point I did get the overriding feeling that Endresen was trying to didactically convey a message about drug taking – specifically, that mood enhancing pills are society’s method of unnecessary, short-term comfort… but I swiftly eschewed this attempt at moral commentary in favour of laughing at a fat man being chased down a corridor.

In this comic sense alone, it is the perfect antidote to the trying-desperately-hard-to-be-profound Oscar fodder you’ll find in almost every cinema over the coming months. So let the film critics sneer all they like: King Curling may be shallow, outrageous and essentially Dodgeball’s freak of a cousin, but my god will it make you laugh. 

Review: My Week with Marilyn

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Nothing appealed to me more this summer than the thought of soon seeing Michelle Williams acting as Marilyn Monroe, strolling the streets of Mayfair. What a thought, what a sight, and what a treat that this film turns out to be full of such moments! For all its mildly frustrating narrative simplicities, nothing calls for such tedious flaws to be tossed aside quite like Williams’ take on Marilyn’s adorable, irresistible laugh and smile, both of which are here in abundance.

Like most, I only know the ‘legend’ of Miss Monroe at the cost of knowing little of the woman, and I suspect My Week With Marilyn stays firmly in the former territory. This isn’t so much a biopic as a dreamy snapshot of an enigma, helped by the fact our perspective is that of a posh-boy intern called Colin who can’t quite believe his luck. There’s a dash of truth here insofar as a young boy did indeed make it onto the set for the filming of Marilyn’s only British film, his father happening to be friends with Sir Laurence Olivier (who directed and costarred in the film in question, The Prince and the Showgirl). And the film is, roughly, based on his diaries. You can’t help but feel, however, that for the sake of the pure joy of the moments it provides, there will have been an exaggeration of the extent Colin got to know her. Or, if it isn’t the filmmakers doing the truth-inflation, it will surely be the boy himself who makes up the nude swimming scene in a sun-kissed lake.

The queerness of their friendship is the reason for reservations about the film as a whole here. It starts off appearing as a clear source of humour that won’t go too far. The focus seems to be Olivier’s inability to grasp the fragile Marilyn’s insistence on using Method acting to take time to ‘feel’ her character, and the tension on set that results. But before long this becomes the backdrop, and we go from laughing at casual, flirtatious conversations between the world’s greatest sex symbol and a boy, to surprise that she is suddenly confessing all to him and demanding comfort-spooning in her bedroom. It is here that we start to doubt the film’s opening claim to be a true story. Most of its key scenes are all too conveniently between two people in private.

But perhaps the costs of this approach — namely, story-skepticism and boring-boy comments on the events unfolding around him — are made worthwhile by what they allow. Without it, maintaining the mystery surrounding Marilyn would have been harder to justify, and with the loss of that take on her we would also miss out on some delightful scenes we are willing to suspend our doubts about. If Williams wins Best Actress, it won’t be for any stand-out climactic moment in which she gets to pour her heart out. It’ll be for a sustained, quiet performance in which she has mastered all the mannerisms and perfected the posture, before capturing the cultural image of a sensitive, vulnerable, but ultimately playful soul.

3 STARS

Sócrates: The Footballer Who Broke The Mould

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With a full-bodied beard, Bjorn-Borg style headband and straggly hair, he resembled more of a 1980s rock star than that of an elegant footballer. An admirer of Che Guevara and Fidel Castro, naming his youngest after the latter, he was a strict adherer to the philosophy of the beautiful game who deeply involved himself with political issues that stretched far beyond the football field. Sócrates was not your average footballer.

Refusing to play professional football until he completed his medical studies at the age of 25, the qualified doctor emerged as the perfect remedy to cure Corinthians lengthy title drought. During his highly influential six-year spell with Timão, the man nicknamed ‘Magrão’ (Big Skinny) became nothing short of a cult hero. His elegance and composure on the ball, leadership and outstanding goalscoring prowess — scoring at total of 172 goals in 297 matches — proved significant as he guided the club to Campeonato Paulista wins on three separate occasions, 1979, 1982 and 1983. And whilst he enjoyed further success in 1983, being crowned the South American Footballer of the Year, his concern for the wider Brazilian community during the country’s military dictatorship was apparent. Sócrates saw that football could be used as a medium for social activism.

Just as Castro and Guevara had inspired millions of Cubans to revolt against the Batista regime in 1950s Cuba, so Sócrates, together with teammate Wladimir, came to spearhead their own revolutionary movement in the mid-1980s in Brazil, known as the Corinthians Democracy. Protests by the players against the club’s management of them was seen as a rejection of the current regime and a microcosm of the wider injustices experienced by the Brazilian people under the military dictatorship. In November 1982, Corinthians players had the slogan “Vote on the 15th” printed on back of their black and white shirts — a daring public act of defiance urging the public to vote in the upcoming elections and one of the first moves towards ending the dictatorship. Indeed, his revolutionary manner off the pitch was equally visible on it.

Despite his slight build and tall frame, so much so that he stated: “I am an anti-athlete […] You have to take me as I am,” Sócrates’s unmistakable elegance, composure on and use of the ball was clinical yet simultaneously effortless in its own way. With his almost-telepathic vision and pinpoint passing, the midfield maestro was able to instigate moves that routinely had great defenders fooled, unlock even the tightest of defences and consequently open up goalscoring opportunities for the strikers. He played with expression and creativity, so much so that he came to pioneer the now famous back-heel that prompted Pelé to once remark that Sócrates played better going backwards than most footballers going forward. Nonetheless, the 1982 FIFA World Cup Finals was to be both his greatest and yet most painful moment in football. 

Following his debut for A Seleção in May 1979, he quickly became the heartbeat of the National Team, which gained notoriety within the world of football for its free-flowing 4-2-2-2 formation, jogo bonito philosophy and eye-catching movement, captaining the side at the 1982 FIFA World Cup Finals. His and Brazil’s first goal of the tournament against the Soviet Union — a wonderful right-foot strike from 25 yards out, having seamlessly slipped past two challenges — has become the most replayed in World Cup history. However, his dreams of becoming the fourth Brazilian captain to lift the trophy were agonisingly dashed as Paulo Rossi inspired Italy to overcome Brazil in the Second Round of the tournament. To this day, the 1982 Brazil side is still widely regarded at the greatest side never to win the FIFA World Cup.

Sócrates experienced heartbreak again four years later in Mexico, with Brazil exiting the competition at the Quarter-finals stage on penalties to France. Eight years later though, his younger brother Raí succeeded where his elder brother had failed on two previous occasion as he helped the National Side to win the 1994 FIFA World Cup in the USA under the captaincy of Dunga. Following his retirement from the game in 1989, he went on to become a popular TV commentator and columnist, always offering a unique philosophical perspective and never shy to express his, at times, controversial thoughts be it, most recently, on the malaise of the current National Team set-up under head Coach Mano Menezes through to criticism of the 2014 FIFA World Cup planning committee. The 57-year-old has undoubtedly left behind an endearing legacy. 

His midfield mastery, terrific reading of the game and pulling of the creative strings — all embodying the romantic side of the beautiful game — had a lasting affect on a generation of supporters who came to fall in love with A Seleção. Moreover, Dr Socrates, as he came to be known, was an intellectual — a man who possessed eclectic football knowledge in addition to an acute awareness of social issues and cultural interests. His thoughts on the progression of the game, namely advocating nine-a-side football, and exploits outside of the sporting arena made him stand out and above from the rest. Perhaps the aforementioned Paulo Rossi best encapsulates the iconic midfielder: “You couldn’t place him in any category – on the pitch and even more so off it […] He was unique from every point of view.”

Perhaps it was written in the stars, that on the same day that news of his death was announced, Corinthians clinched their fifth Cameponato Brasileiro title. Whilst it was exactly what O Doutor would have ordered, the manner of the victory left much to be desired. A far cry from the footballer that possessed an unrivalled instinct for the game, fearlessly challenged a regime and came to be idolized by the Brazilian people. Sócrates was truly one of a kind.

Twitter: @aleksklosok

Review: The Vaccines, O2 Academy

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I expected the sell-out gig to be packed with throngs of keeno teeny boppers. To my surprise, the crowd was mostly middle aged and balding. The very same bunch who get their hip-tips from the national media – not the ideal demographic.

The Vaccines swaggered on stage, like boxers to a ring: classic rock entrance song blaring out accompanied by epileptic flashing blue lights. They were very faithful to their studio album, which is an all too rare thing. But it felt a tad clinical. All had in-ear monitors, all played in perfect time and all looked like they had dollar signs in their eyes. The lead singer, Justin Young, shamelessly wore a varsity jacket with a large ‘V’ on the front and an even larger ‘THE VACCINES’ on the back. Really?

Their songs have a definite punk aesthetic: short and effective. ‘Wolf Pack’ and ‘Norgaard’ were the stand out songs from their otherwise homogenous catalogue. The reaction from the crowd was immediate, which would have been exciting were it not for the three blonde 30-somethings standing in front of me, jumping demonically and (ooh, ooh) waving their water bottles in the air (ooh, ooh) like they just don’t care. 

Support band, Howler, played a competent, but bland set. Simple re-hashings of generic indie that has been done many times before. Overall I feel that The Vaccines are doing good things for mainstream music, but they still have a way to go if they are going to be a truly impressive and original band in the studio and on the road.

Oxide radio stopped due to misuse

Oxide was off the air for the last few days of Michaelmas as technical problems were compounded by the untidiness of the studio environment.

The student radio station faced severe equipment problems from Friday of 7th week until Monday of 8th but during this time there were concerns over how the studio, a small room within the OUSU building, was being treated. Reports of the room being found filled with rubbish (particularly empty alcohol bottles) added to fears that the expensive equipment was being treated carelessly. These concerns were heightened when the studio was further damaged on Wednesday and left completely unusable, leaving the Oxide managers with little option but to suspend the last two days of broadcasting.

Sara Pridgeon, who co-edits the Oxford Theatre Review and regularly produces content inside the Oxide studio, expressed her frustration with the actions of other presenters. She told Cherwell that the incident was not a one-off but a particularly bad example of a common problem, indicating that she was “never surprised” by the room’s condition upon arriving for her show, even when this included broken equipment or scattered rubbish. She added, “Everyone at Oxide needs to do a lot better – we can’t actually produce shows or be taken seriously if we don’t respect our studio.”

Tuesday night presenter Andrew Seaton commented that the events were a “real shame,” adding, “Oxide is poorly funded compared to a lot of other societies and [the radio station’s] committees have worked hard to balance the books while attempting to maintain a functioning student radio station.” He later indicated that “this [was] a real setback,” since “things seemed to be getting better – especially in the new OUSU building.” He pointed out that presenters were usually the only ones around during broadcasts so the studio upkeep was very much a matter of personal responsibility.

Oxide Programme Controller Maggie Lund supported the conclusion that the damage pointed towards the thoughtlessness of individual presenters rather than vandalism. She commented that the Oxide community were “all just sad that a minority of presenters seem to treat the studio so carelessly despite using it every week to put out their show that they work hard on and care a lot about.”

Snog Marry Avoid? #2

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It’s snow joke

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Students attending the Varsity Ski Trip received an email from the organisers this week warning them of the lack of snow at the resort.

The official website of the Val Thorens resort, which will host over 3000 Oxbridge students next week, declares that the depth of new snowfall is currently at 0cm, while on the highest slopes the snow is around 40cm thick.

The organisers of the annual ski trip explained that “the beginning of the Alpine winter has been marred by a record low rate of snowfall” but maintained that “there are now a higher proportion of runs open in Val Thorens than in any other Alpine resort, with more opening on a daily basis.”

Currently only 15 out of 76 runs are open or forecast to open. Experienced skiers were offered the option of buying an additional pass to ski in the neighbouring 3 valleys resort; however the organisers have announced that this will definitely not be open in time. Students who paid for this upgrade will be refunded after the trip. Those who purchased a standard lift pass will not have the option of a refund.  

Second year English student, Esme Hicks, commented, “It’s a shame especially as I went last year and wanted to try some of the harder slopes this year. But at the end of the day it’s not just about the skiing – it’s a chance to get away from Oxford and have fun with your friends.”

University College student Juliet Roe added, “As a novice skier a large part of me is not that bothered by the lack of snow but the part attached to my purse-strings is slightly more concerned.”

Strikers hold rally in central Oxford

As some of the largest scale public sector strikes in a generation struck Britain on Wednesday, Oxford’s streets were filled with demonstrators, who marched through the city centre to protest the government’s proposed changes to public sector pensions.

Starting at Magdalen Roundabout and marching down the high street, the march – which was organised by the Oxford and District Trades Union Council and numbered several thousand people – had reached Broad Street by 3.30pm. Traffic was held up but there was no major disturbance.

Protesters included representatives from education, the NHS and the civil service. They used slogans such as, “Cuts! Job losses! Money for the bosses!” Unions such as Unite and the NUT were out in force, with a number of students providing support.

While the march itself was against the government’s cuts to public sector pensions, the placards on display indicated a wide range of grievances. Some called for revolution and the overthrow of the government; some were against public sector pension cuts and the rising retirement age; some were anti-tuition fees. Others were more light-hearted, with one reading, “I was told there would be biscuits.”

Security was tight across Oxford in the run-up to the march, with staff checking Bod cards on the way into libraries and the exam schools. There was an active police presence throughout the day, but the march was an orderly affair with no violence.

The public sector workers involved in the rally were clear about their reasons for going on strike. Clive Scoggins is Negotiations Officer at Prospect, a union which has recently voted for industrial action for the first time. He told Cherwell, “Most of our members in Prospect are moderate, they’re inaudible, they don’t take industrial action lightly. They feel they’ve been driven to this because of the lack of real negotaiation with the government with these changes.”

Van Coulter, a member of Oxford City Council, said, “I’m here primarily because the cuts are so unfair. They’re taking a greater proportion of the income of the poor than they do for the rich. It’s quite unjust that poor people who are sick, vulnerable, retired – that they’re being asked to pay more value added tax on a smaller income and if they had any savings they’re getting a pittance for those savings.”

Julian Hill, RCN Officer at the Royal College of Nursing, added, “It’s going to be a long hard slog, but if we don’t protest, the government will just keep doing whatever it wants.”

Most protesters agreed that the day had been a success. Liz Peretz, who works for the campaign “Keep our NHS Public”, called the event “The best rally we’ve ever had in Oxford” and added, “We’ve seen lots of students who are really supportive.” Peretz claimed that the workers on strike enjoy wide support in Oxford, saying, “For every one person who’s here today, there’ll be another ten who aren’t here, but who are with us in spirit.”

Roy Bentley, from the University and College Union, called the event “incredibly successful”, and expressed the hope that rallies like the one in Oxford today will have an effect on the government’s policy. He said, “The government would be foolish to ignore today. What we’re asking them to do is to reconsider their policy. Our pensions are affordable, but they are trying to take them away to solve the deficit.”

Students who witnessed the rally were largely supportive of the demonstrators’ cause. Nathan Akehurst, a fresher at Lincoln, said, “I’m here today in support of a strike against the unfair pension system. The fact is that the pension scheme’s actually in surplus, and still we’re expecting workers to work more, pay more and get less at the end of it, and that’s not the sort of society I want to grow up in.”

Matt Myers, a Wadham PPE fresher who woke up at 6am to go to the pickets at Churchill Hospital and stayed with the protesters for the duration of Wednesday’s events, said, “The strike today by 2.5 million workers has shown the government that the power of the organized working class has not been destroyed”.

Myers also praised student involvement in the rally, saying, “Today the student presence on the demonstration showed the government that we will not be divided, we will fight together, and we will win together.”

Leo Topp, a second-year classicist present at the rally in Broad Street in the afternoon, took a similarly positive view of the day’s events. He said, “It was inspiring to see so many people willing to come out in protest rather than just accept changes which damage their lives.”

Not all students were wholly convinced by the demonstration, however. Felix Neate, a second-year English student at Corpus Christi, said he sympathised with the strikers’ cause, but suggested that some of the demonstrators were too lighthearted in their approach to the day’s events, telling Cherwell, “They looked like they were having too much fun for people who were actually unhappy.”