Thursday 7th August 2025
Blog Page 1774

Review: South Pacific

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If you’re stuck in Oxford this 9th week for whatever sin you may have committed, be it choosing
an undergraduate course in Classics, a graduate course of any kind, or offering to mentor the next generation of Oxonians and comfort those off to study in cities where Camera wouldn’t count as a good club, your spirits may well be in need of a lift; in that case, the best medicine
this doctor can offer is South Pacific at the New Theatre.
Musicals aren’t usually something that particularly draw me, but it’s clear even from my
limited experience that South Pacific had an unusually well-practised connection between
the musicians, who were excellent, and the singers, particularly De Becque, played by Jason
Howard. It was reassuring for this music novice that my choral scholar companion also
appreciated the exceptional richness and power of Howard’s voice, which is given free rein a
few times during the show – rarely have I been so entranced by a burly Frenchman in black
tie. Also of particular note I thought were the smaller parts, including De Becque’s children,
who were incredibly tiny and cute but also very confident and professional. Definitely one for the ‘aww’ factor for any of you suffering from Christmas broodiness.
The fact that this was a hugely absorbing, entertaining and uplifting sing-a-long made it fun for
the whole audience, which seemed to consist primarily of families and older couples, though
it had the side effect that the performance’s suffusion with sexual innuendos that seemed to
scream out to this writer, perhaps because of the obsessions that dominate student theatre,
became all the more unsettling.
Another subversive undertone was race: South Pacific was first performed in 1949, and the
mores of that age are apparent. I defy any audience-member not to cringe at Nellie (Samantha
Womack)’s concerns about marrying a man widowed by a black women and caring for mixed
race children. While obviously such things shouldn’t ruin our enjoyment of what is definitely a
fantastic, entertaining and engaging play, they should remind us of how much our enjoyment of
art is affected by our perception of the time it appeared, and the ethical differences between our
two times.
The lighting and set design were excellent tonight, a reminder of the dramatic difference
between professional shows and even the best student productions that we see in Oxford: the
set’s incredible range, complete with a full complement of moving sections, enabled a really
entertaining set of locales to be conjured up for us.
All in all, South Pacific is definitely worth seeing: the songs are catchy and well sung; the acting
is strong and at times captivating; the plot, while not exactly intellectually stimulating, is fun and
well paced; and the whole experience is a great escape from an increasingly wintry Oxford.
Make it part of your vac res, and you won’t regret it.

If you’re stuck in Oxford this 9th week for whatever sin you may have committed, be it choosing an undergraduate course in Classics, a graduate course of any kind, or offering to ,emtor the next generation of Oxonians and comfort those off to study in cities where Camera wouldn’t count as a good club, your spirits may well be in need of a lift. In that case, the best medicine this doctor can offer is South Pacific at the New Theatre. Musicals aren’t usually something that attract me, but it’s clear even from my limited experience that South Pacific had an unusually well-practised connection between the musicians, who were excellent, and the singers, particularly De Becque, played by JasonHoward. It was reassuring for this music novice that my choral scholar companion also appreciated the exceptional richness and power of Howard’s voice, which is given free rein a few times during the show – rarely have I been so entranced by a burly Frenchman in blacktie.

Also of particular note were the smaller parts, including De Becque’s children,who were incredibly small and cute but also very confident and professional. Definitely one forthe ‘aww’ factor for any of you suffering from Christmas broodiness.The fact that this was a hugely absorbing, entertaining and uplifting sing-a-long made it fun forthe whole audience, which seemed to consist primarily of families and older couples, thoughit had the side effect that the performance’s suffusion with sexual innuendos that seemed to scream out to this writer, perhaps because of the obsessions that dominate student theatre,became all the more unsettling.

Another subversive undertone was race: South Pacific was first performed in 1949, and the mores of that age are apparent. I defy any audience-member not to cringe at Nellie (Samantha Womack)’s concerns about marrying a man widowed by a black women and caring for mixed race children. While obviously such things shouldn’t ruin our enjoyment of what is definitely a fantastic, entertaining and engaging play, they should remind us of how much our enjoyment of art is affected by our acknowledgement of its context, and the ethical differences between our two times.

The lighting and set design were excellent tonight, a reminder of the dramatic difference between professional shows and even the best student productions that we see in Oxford: the set’s incredible range, complete with a full complement of moving sections, enabled a really entertaining set of locales to be conjured up for us. All in all, South Pacific is definitely worth seeing: the songs are catchy and well sung; the acting is strong and at times captivating; the plot, while not exactly intellectually stimulating, is fun and well paced; and the whole experience is a great escape from an increasingly wintry Oxford. Make it part of your vac res, and you won’t regret it.

 

Dominant Blues conquer Cambridge in Varsity Rugby

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The Varsity Match is one of the oldest of sporting battles, first held in 1872, only a year after the first ever rugby international between England and Scotland. This heritage and prestige has led to corporate entities trying to grab some of the mythos for themselves; Nomura tried ‘Grudgeby’, while in the last year Jack Wills’ involvement has changed the image slightly – more gilets and shooting than lineouts and rucking – but despite this, the overall nature of the event, and the refined animosity it brings, remains wonderfully unsullied. So every year the Blue hordes descend upon the Twickenham, the last amateur match fittingly held at the birthplace of rugby, as it has been for the last 90 years (World Wars permitting). Amateur by name only, as neither of these two incredibly well drilled and driven sides would be willing to give an inch, and as every year a ferocious battle was all but certain.

As is traditional, the match was preceded by the U21s Varsity, a less prestigious but no less enjoyable amuse bouche before the main event. Oxford won this by 19 points to 11, with the victory more comfortable than the scoreline would suggest. Tries from full back Dan Levene and no. 8 Ben Girling, the second an excellent finish in the corner after a well worked lineout, sandwiched a score for the Cambridge 12. However, when wing John Harkness touched down under the posts immediately before half-time having been set loose following fresher Will Dace’s excellent dummy through the midfield, and although a penalty on the whistle made the score 19-8, a rout looked likely. As it was, Cambridge’s physical defence held firm for the second half and they converted another penalty of their own to narrow the gap, but the result never looked in doubt. The pacy back three of Harkness, Levene and Sam Wareham caused continuous problems out wide while second rows Matthew Craggs and Will Fell provided the grunt up front, and looked like potential future Blues.

So with the Varsity Series already secured 3-1, the Blues could surely relax, safe in the knowledge of an overall victory secured? This could not be further from the truth. Although the squad featured many returning Blues, including six in the pack from last year’s 21-10 victory, it was clear from captain John Carter’s programme notes that he was taking nothing for granted.

Anthem heartily sung, pints refilled and the crowd swelling to a healthy 17000 (sadly nowhere near filling ‘HQ’, but still enough to provide a fantastic atmosphere throughout), the match kicked off. Immediately, Cambridge were on the offensive, a strong driving maul drawing an offense and allowing fly-half Steve Townend to slot the first points of the match and give the Light Blues the ideal start.

John Carter would have wanted an immediate response from his players, and they gave him one. A stolen lineout, following an excellent kick by Oxford ten Tom Mitchell, gave the Oxford back line a free run in the Cambridge 22, and while wing Cassian Bramham-Law was unable to reach the line, a quick drive from the resulting ruck allowed tighthead prop Will Kane to bundle over. A good conversion by Bramham-Law, playing his first match in over a month following injury, gave Oxford a 7-3 lead, and he was able to extend this to 10-3 on the quarter-hour after a Cambridge infringement.

However, if Oxford thought they would add further points with similar ease  they were sorely mistaken. Some enterprising back play was undermined by a poor kick from Bramham-Law straight down the throat of Cambridge’s dangerous full back Tom O’Toole, winner of last year’s BUCS championship with Durham. He took advantage of the broken field situation to split the defence with a delightful chip which was then hacked on by Light Blue number nine Don Blake. As he slid over under the posts along with two covering defenders it was not immediately clear who had touched down, and it took several minutes for the video referee to eventually award a five metre scrum to Cambridge in the centre of the pitch. In the build-up to the try John Carter had been taken off as a blood replacement following some ‘personal treatment’ from his opposite number Dave Allen (footage of the incident being shown on the big screens left the crowd baying for blood), and his lack of weight at the base of the scrum contributed to the Oxford pack crumbling under immense pressure, leaving the referee no choice but to award an easily converted penalty try, making the score a tantalising 10-all.

The rest of the half passed with less incident as both sides scrapped in the middle of the park, Oxford’s big ball carriers Karl Outen and Derek Asbun putting in some hard yards as both teams tried to achieve some degree of superiority. Oxford scored the only points, another Bramham-Law penalty after hands in the ruck, while the return of John Carter, complete with a bruise the size of Belgium over one eye, again drew the ire of the crowd for the unsporting behaviour shown. The Cambridge pack were beginning to get their driving maul working, but the Dark Blue defence held firm and they were worth their 13-10 lead at half time.

If Oxford’s first half start had been less than ideal, their second half’s was quite the reverse. Slick hands in the midfield released wing Sean Morris down the centre; he passed to fly half Tom Mitchell whose clever kick forced the Cambridge wing to concede a lineout deep in his own 22. From this, Oxford set up a maul, which accelerated towards the Light Blue line and let vice-captain Outen flop over for the try. Bramham-Law missed the conversion from out wide, but his side were definitely in the ascendancy.

Indeed, this seemed to galvanise the entire Dark Blue side, as suddenly their strike moves were creating holes for the back three , the lines of running in the threequarters were more incisive and bullocking runs from Outen and Carter (both incidentally sporting the most interesting hairstyles on the pitch) kept Oxford on the front foot. Bramham-Law missed one penalty, but coolly slotted another to make it 21-10, the same score as last year. However, they were clearly not content to rest on this feat, and it was only an awfully sliced drop goal from Mitchell with numbers begging to his left that prevented the score being increased.

All of the rugby was being played by Oxford by this point, with fresher scrum-half Sam Egerton providing consistently quick ball off the base of every ruck, while any Cambridge clearance was immediately returned with menace. The inevitable raft of substitutions did little to change this, and after perpetually busy Oxford blindside Derek Asbun charged down a clearance kick and then won a penalty at the ensuing ruck, Carter took the scrum as Oxford went in for the kill.

Successfully, as it turned out. Egerton picked up from the back of the scrum and fed Mitchell, whose nice line and shimmy fooled the defence and let him dot down just past the posts. Replacement wing Matt Janney converted, and at 28-10 the match was won. Cambridge tried to salvage some pride with a big effort for the last ten minutes, but their set piece had crumbled by this point, and the Dark Blue defence held firm until the final whistle, to secure a first retention of the Varsity trophy in ten years and inspire scenes of jubilation for those not wearing minty green.

The man of the match trophy was awarded to Karl Outen with no argument, as his ball carrying and lineout work had been consistently superb throughout the day, but in all honesty it could have been given to any number of players. The Oxford tight five had truly demoralised their opponents up front, John Carter spent the whole second half making crunching hit after crunching hit, despite only being able to see out of one eye, while behind the scrum Egerton and Mitchell ran the game superbly while the pace men, Sean Morris especially, always looked dangerous with ball in hand. Oxford were truly better from 1 to 15, and the scoreline ended up flattering Cambridge.

As captain John Carter’s last match before retiring (for the second, and given the state of his body, probably last time) it was a slightly bittersweet finish, but he can finish a satisfied man, having given Cambridge and awful lot to think about if they have any intention of turning things around come twelve months from now.

New College moves to protect its name

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Oxford’s New College is applying for trademark status, ahead of the New College of the Humanities’ own bid to brand itself.

632 years since it was established, New College has moved to protect its name after the emergence of the first British private university, The New College of the Humanities (NCH), which was developed by philosopher and supernumerary fellow at St. Anne’s, A.C Grayling.

It was initially claimed that New College’s bid for trademark status was merely precautionary, as the college exists as a separate legal entity to Oxford University, which is already comprehensively trademarked. New College’s name is not unique to Oxbridge, as there are well-known New Colleges in Durham, Swindon and Nottingham.

However, with a decision upon New College Oxford’s trademark status “imminent,” it is also suspected that New College intends to contest the New College of the Humanities’ application for trademark status, when it comes to public consultation.

When asked if this was the case, a spokesperson for New College acknowledged that they would “keep a close eye on the New College of the Humanities application,” admitting that New College, Oxford “don’t want people thinking we’ve opened a London branch.”

The New College of the Humanities told Cherwell, regarding the Oxford college, that the team there “do not believe that there could be any confusion between the institutions,” as NCH is a “paid model,” and a “brand new concept in university level education offering courses in the Humanities.”

When asked if NCH could become a serious rival for Oxbridge and Russell Group Universities, Cherwell was told by the private university that, “The New College of the Humanities will at maturity have just over 1,000 students. If you compare this to the number of students and places available at the twenty Russell Group universities the size of NCH will be very different.”

A spokesperson at NCH said that the Diploma they awarded, which is an extra component in addition to the standard degree and is designed to increase the employability of its graduates, “sets students apart from other graduates and marks the greater richness of their education at the College.”

New College offered a different opinion on the matter, however, telling Cherwell that the addition of this Diploma did “not at all” pose a threat to an education at Oxford. “You can achieve the exactly the same thing from the hundreds of societies offered here at Oxford,” Cherwell was told.

New College students seem largely in favour of the college’s move to protect its name. JCR President Oscar Lee stated, “I personally feel that if seeking trademark status is the right thing to do in order to protect New College’s name, then I support the move.”

First year student Kieran Calvert commented, “Perhaps the college is worried that the New College of the Humanities may ride off their success, by subtly implying they are linked. But the main question is, will the New College tracksuits get pricier?’

Oxford students can rest assured that the university as a whole has already trademarked itself, covering products as important as charm bracelets, underwear, fat removing agents, hair lotions, coasters, pill boxes and even Christmas trees.

Xin Fan at St. Anne’s expressed the view that, “Branding is overrated. My Oxford University umbrella leaks so much that it goes all over my Oxford University cuff-links and I have to collect everything in my Oxford University tankard. In the end, I have to put it all in my Oxford University waste bin. I think I may as well stick to John Lewis.”

Test errors impede History applications

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Prospective History students were late in being told whether they had interviews this year, after the History Aptitude Test examiners mixed up marks and candidate numbers.

The History Aptitude Test (HAT) forms part of the entrance procedure for History undergraduate courses at Oxford University. Andrea Hopkins, a representative for the History Faculty, explained to Cherwell that “errors [had] occurred where markers had incorrectly transcribed the candidate’s number,” upon entering each candidate number and corresponding mark onto a spreadsheet. Each examiner’s spreadsheet was then compiled to create a larger spreadsheet for all of the 1613 applicants.

Oxford University Press Office played down the incident, stating, “It should be noted that the error only affected a small number of students.” However the History Faculty acknowledged that “even if only one number was wrong, it would put the rest of the numbers below it out of sequence”.

The History Faculty revealed that HAT markers had not initially checked that every candidate number matched the right result. They accepted that errors had been made, telling Cherwell, “Of course what we should have done was devote several hours to checking every single candidate number and set of marks between the big spreadsheet, the markers’ spreadsheets, and the original script cover sheets, to detect these errors.”

An official at the History Faculty explained that HAT examiners must “somehow slot in roughly forty hours of marking on top of their normal teaching and research,” and “had two days less to do it all this year.” She went on to add, however, that, “We will of course always do a total check in future.”

A spokesperson from Oxford University Press Office said, “The History Faculty apologises for not identifying the errors more quickly, but felt that it was of utmost importance to ensure that all candidates’ scores were confirmed correctly.” He emphasised that the error did not cause too much inconvenience, stating that “the delay in notifying candidates for interview was no more than 24 hours.”

A current history student reflected on invitations to interview at Oxford, saying, “It’s better to come late than not at all.” He added, “Let’s hope these screw-ups in the History Faculty are a thing of the past.”

Another stated that the HAT mix-up was “Final proof that even the history tutors don’t give a shit about writing timed passages on American drainage ditches.”

University College undergraduate Thomas Cole remarked, “This is the biggest HAT scandal since Princess Beatrice’s outfit to the Royal Wedding.”

Government sought place at Oxford for Gaddafi’s son

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A senior Foreign Office civil servant is alleged to have made enquiries attempting to gain a place at Oxford for Saif al-Islam Gaddafi.

Gaddafi, the son of Libya’s recently ousted leader, wanted to study either for an MSc in Development Economics or the MPhil in Development Studies. However Oxford refused the proposal and Gaddafi instead went to the London School of Economics, whose links to the former Libyan regime are currently under scrutiny.

Lord Woolf’s Inquiry, commissioned by LSE to establish the facts of their previous involvement with Libya and to establish clear future guidelines, found that “approximately six weeks after Saif’s doctorate was confirmed he was asked to give a donation [to LSE].” The figure of £1.5 million was promised in July 2009, the same day as Gaddafi completed his PhD.

Oxford’s involvement in the event is revealed in a footnote to the LSE inquiry, with Professor Fitzgerald (Head of Oxford’s Department of International Development) revealing the initial approach from the Foreign Office to Oxford in Spring 2002.

The Foreign Office, he reported, were seeking help in admitting Gaddafi because “Libya was opening up to the West again.” However their approach was rejected, with FitzGerald revealing that the “bottom line was whether [Gaddafi] had adequate prior academic qualifications for entry.” He stated, “This is not only an issue of professional ethics, but also that under-qualified students struggle to keep up with the intense pace of Oxford postgraduate study.”

Upon hearing of Gaddafi’s academic qualifications FitzGerald told the foreign office that an application was unlikely to succeed, since he had no social science training and his prior degree did not meet the quality standard. His advice was accepted and Oxford had no further involvement.

Upon hearing of the request, St Hugh’s student Oliver Persey stated that the incident displayed “a lack of respect for the integrity of higher education establishments if the Foreign Office believes that a university will admit a student for any reason apart from academic ability.”

Danielle Bunting of Wadham concurred, arguing, “The government shouldn’t be allowed to attempt to give anyone a leg-up getting into university, let alone the son of an evidently very dangerous dictator, for the sake of building a few business links with the country.”

Pembroke’s Charlotte Tarr suggested that it was “an insult to the students who have worked exceptionally hard to get their places.”

Other students thought that Gaddafi’s application should have been rejected purely based on his background. Yajur Shah, from Keble, argued that “admission as a postgraduate at Oxford University should take into account your past activities, especially if they could have serious implications for other people in the world. A Master’s degree from Oxford could qualify someone to do a great deal of good or bad in the world and I’d personally prefer it if it were the first.”

An Oxford University representative reported that this was a one-off event and reiterated that admission policies had not been compromised, stating, “Admission to Oxford is based solely on academic considerations, and this is a very important principle. It would not be influenced by factors outside of academic ability and potential, of this or any other kind.”

Oxford University Press under pressure

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Members of Oxford University plan to flood Oxford University Press with requests for one of its books ‘The Collected Essays of A.J. Ramanujan’. The petitioners hope to test the publishing house’s claim that they stopped publication of Ramanujan’s potentially controversial essay ‘300 Ramayanas’ solely due to commercial factors, and not because of pressure or possible litigation from right-wing pressure groups.

In 2008, OUP India decided to discontinue publication of the only two books containing this essay. This coincided with certain groups in India looking into legal proceedings based on the claim that the essay was offensive to Hindu sentiments, with OUP India as one of the potential respondents. The University members claim that OUP “have done a fair amount of damage to their reputation,” and that its actions appear to be apologizing for publishing the essay.

In addition to requesting the book, there is also an online petition making further demands of OUP. Anish Vanaik, a graduate History student at Balliol and one of the organisers of the petition, outlined what they were hoping to achieve, saying, “We want OUP to publically clarify a few things: Firstly, have they apologized for publishing the essay? Secondly, we want them to publically state their support of the author, about which there is some doubt. And thirdly, they should reprint the book.”.

The essay in question looks at different versions of the ‘Ramayana,’ a Sanskrit epic poem which is also a sacred Hindu text. One issue for the complainants is that one version has the protagonists Rama and Sita as siblings, whereas they are husband and wife in Hindu tradition. The narrative is celebrated in the Hindu festival Diwali, and is part of Buddhist tradition.

Mr Vanaik called Mr Ramanujan “a scholar of very high repute.” He also expressed the opinion that, “the essay is not controversial work; the controversy has been made up.”

Although the number of petitioners is small, Mr Vanaik claims that the fact that support is from many disciplines and from leading academics adds credence to their claims.

A spokeswoman for OUP stated “I am aware that a group of local students is planning to order the book ‘The Collected Essays of A.K. Ramanujan’ in large quantities. I can confirm that the book is available and we will be fulfilling any orders we receive.”

She continued, “OUP India has for many decades successfully fulfilled its role as a disseminator of the best scholarship in India, and it continues to maintain the highest levels of integrity.”

Privacy Row Rages On

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The civil liberties organisation, Big Brother Watch, has re-issued its calls for Oxford City Council to scrap its plan to introduce CCTV audio-enabled cameras into taxicabs in the city.

The plans were due to be implemented by April 2015, but there has been fresh opposition to them in light of a recent court ruling. A judge at Southampton Crown Court stated that, “it was not reasonably necessary to install audio cameras on a permanent basis in all taxis in Southampton.” Paragraph 71 of the ruling in the case of Southampton City Council versus Kevin May stated, “The condition does not correspond to a pressing social need, is not proportionate to the legitimate aim pursued and is not necessary in a democratic society in the interests of national security, public safety or the economic well-being of the country.”

Following this judgment, the Director of Big Brother Watch, Nick Pickles, wrote to Oxford City Council, urging them to “abandon this invasive and unlawful policy without delay.” He commented, “I have written highlighting this ruling because the policy it lays out is very clear – such plans are unlawful, disproportionate and a clear violation of Article 8 of the European Convention on Human Rights.”

He went on to add that it would be “reckless for the Council to pursue such a policy, when it would clearly leave them open to legal challenges, as has been the case in Southampton. In times of spending constraints, this would needlessly put taxpayers’ money at risk.”

Oxford City Council claimed when the proposals were first made that they were concerned solely with the safety of both taxi drivers and passengers, following alleged assaults, mainly arising from arguments about fares in the city.

The Council’s plans have provoked mixed reactions amongst the student population in Oxford. One second year Geography student reflected, “Although they are run by private firms, taxis are, to a certain extent, a public entity – so if the installation of CCTV cameras increases safety, I can’t see that it’s a bad thing. What are people trying to hide?”

However, a second year Law student disagreed, saying, “It seems to me that there is little evidence to support the council’s plans; and now that this ruling has taken place in Southampton, it could set a precedent for similar cases, which might leave Oxford City Council in a tricky situation.’

A spokesman for Oxford City Council said that, in light of the developments, “We need to take the time to consider the ruling before we can make any decision regarding plans to introduce CCTV in taxis.”

Review: An Island

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This is a film that allows Danish art-rock collective Efterklang to shrug off the sterilizing influences of studio professionalism. Created in collaboration with the independent filmmaker Vincent Moon, An Island is beautifully smeared through with patches of found sound and gently pulsating images — a powerful counterpart to some very intricate chamber music. Moon has an incredible history of capturing music-making on film, best known for his ‘Take-Away Shows’ — one-take session recordings from Arcade Fire to Phoenix — for the website La Blogothèque. A similar aesthetic is present throughout An Island.

 Opening with the amplified ambient wash of the Baltic Sea, the music eventually emerges from the natural soundscape as Efterklang deliver an acoustic rendition of ‘Raincoats’ from the back of a truck. The song fades away on an improvisational tangent — all meandering percussion suspended over loose vocals. At the film’s heart is a nighttime performance of ‘Alike’, finding a concentrated intimacy in the musicians’ old rehearsal shed amidst fragile violin lines and singer Casper Clausen’s agile shading. Certainly the pop stylings of Efterklang’s latest record Magic Chairs, which provides much of the music in this film, are a step down from the classically-structured fragments of 2007’s Parades, but they haven’t lost their propensity for incredible harmonic sense. Towards the end of An Island, the musicians return to their old school to perform ‘Me Me Me The Brick House’, underlining the great sense of community running through the band’s musical projects.

 Efterklang’s early musical steps quickly drew comparison to Icelandic post-rockers Sigur Rós, presumably on the strength of the Nordic connection and the latter’s pretensions to the experimental. Sigur Rós successfully navigated their way to mainstream banality on the basis of their own 2007 film, Heima — one and a half hours of Icelandic landscape-porn. I did worry that Efterklang were facing their own Heima-moment this year, so it’s a relief to see that all their maverick tendencies have been preserved. What Efterklang have always excelled in is their attention to timbre. In a wonderful scene early on in the film, the band run wild in an abandoned barn, making field recordings by throwing together logs and beating wooden fencing together with scrap metal. Glorious.

5 STARS

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