When I picked up this book I wasn’t expecting a literary masterpiece. I was hoping for something exciting, fun and maybe even a bit James Bond-like. Unfortunately I couldn’t help finding Spartan Gold extremely irritating and a bit dull.

While all the ingredients of an exciting plot were there – ancient gold, hidden secrets and Russian villains – none of them really ever seemed to satisfy. I’m not a literary snob. I enjoy trashy novels as much as anyone and I really wanted to be positive about this book. But it is unbelievably badly written, with characterisation that will make you wince.

In Spartan Gold Cussler introduces a new series of adventures based around the treasure hunters Sam and Remi Fargo. At first I thought that choosing a married couple as the stars of a thriller could be interesting, and a welcome change from the usual dashing, bed-hopping male protagonist. In reality, the Fargos are the some of the most annoying fictional characters I have ever come across. They are beautiful and stinking rich with first class degrees,; they take classes in judo, yoga, fencing and pilates. Although they are only in it for the thrill, they always donate their findings to a home for deprived children or sick puppies. Even worse than their offensively perfect lives is the terrible ‘flirty’ dialogue throughout as they quip their way through dangerous situations. Sam Fargo, it seems, always has time to remind his wife how sexy she is even when they are being pursued by gun-wielding Russian mafia members.

While Dan Brown might be criticised for writing trash, the non-stop mystery of The Da Vinci Code allowed you to ignore the worse points. Spartan Gold starts slowly: it is almost a hundred pages before Sam and Remi actually start jetting off around the world in search of wine from Napoleon’s mystery cellar. Cussler just didn’t manage to get me to care about the pursuit.

At least the detail is fun. There is everything you might want from such an adventure: hidden sea caves, and abandoned Nazi submarines with mysterious missions. It just didn’t seem to be all that interesting and I think that the narrative style has to be the main reason. Cussler’s approach replaces description with listing; when painting a picture of the Fargo’s luxury home, for example, the reader is bombarded with a list of the rooms on each floor, including the square footage and all technological equipment within. The text is scattered with annoying super-modern tech references. ‘Sam pulled out his iPhone’, ‘She tapped away on her Mac Book Pro’ etc. Is Cussler on the take from Steve Jobs?

What’s more, Cussler (and his editor) also seem to lack any knowledge of basic grammar. I’m not just being pedantic here. Throughout the novel, Cussler thinks that the past participle of ‘dive’ is ‘dove’ (‘He dove into the water’) and that ‘He spit on the floor’ is grammatically sound. Such slips would annoy anyone with decent literacy skills. How this got through the editorial process I do not know.

Just when you thought it could get no more annoying, Cussler the author makes a cameo in the novel, apparently this is a running joke of his. At one point a ‘distinguished’ silver fox helps out the protagonists by allowing them to stay in his home. When they look at the name plate they see, oh hilarious irony, Casa de Cussler. I might have forgiven him this act of nauseating narcissism, if the story into which he wanders uninvited was at all compelling.

This novel wants to entertain, not edify. It’s the sort of book you would buy at the airport for a holiday or use to escape from the weekly essay grind. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that but Spartan Gold is unsuccessful at delivering on this key aim. Instead, its cliches and dialogue stew in a dull plot told with the narrative flair one might find in an eleven year old’s English homework.

What constitutes an exhibition? I realise this review space is normally reserved for discussion of actual content of exhibitions, but it seems fitting that I ask this almost facetious question by way of introduction for this week’s review. On the website of the Pitt Rivers Museum, and crucially under the ‘Exhibitions’ section of it, we are told that DisGUISE and DOLLS is a selection of work by Oxford Brookes Fine Art students. So I was a little shocked to find a single display case, the size of a large wardrobe, with DisGUISE and DOLLS written on a panel at the top. Tucked in the corner of a mezzanine floor was the entirety of an ‘exhibition’. But, even casting aside this snobbery of mine about size, I struggled to find anything gripping about the little that what was on show.

The exhibition supposedly responds to the various representations of the human form on display in the Pitt Rivers, with students exploring the use and meaning of dolls in our lives today. The budding fine artists interviewed each other to try to get to grips with their personal cha

racteristics, before then going to on to articulate their conception of their ‘selves’/alter-egos in the production of ‘dolls’.

Latex, tin cans, needles, clay, tribal beads and lace have all been used in one or more of the dolls. All of them are essentially assemblages of found objects pieced together with a fraction of the enthusiasm of the many young children participating in a crafts workshop at the same time as my visit. The dolls simply don’t stand for anything. If any readers did GCSE Art, you might remember the tenuous links that you used to draw between your random thoughts and their manifestation in your physical artwork. I forgot to mention earlier that the exhibition also consists of a thick paper booklet. In it, we are told that the jars in which some dolls are placed prevent touching and thus represent independence; dead flies represent self-doubt; and a girl’s politeness is represented by the use of broken eggshells. One student who produced a doll with an oversized orange head, said that the cast was deliberately out of proportion with the body to ‘ironically depict’ his shyness.

The booklet ends with an essay written by one of the student artists. He claims that the dolls exhibition serves as a blueprint for a more inclusive, more tolerant society. In contrast to the other display pieces in the Pitt Rivers, these dolls have no single cultural or historical reference point. Thus they are supposed to herald a new pluralist landscape.

Sadly though, given the array of fascinating archaeological and anthropological antiquities on show in the main gallery spaces, this suggestion falls flat. Beyond the realm of the exhibition’s cabinet, the museum’s general collection is organised according to how the objects were made rather than cultural origin or age. This emphasises the creativity and skill with which humans have tackled and adjusted to deal with the common problems of daily life over time; creativity and skill, which are completely absent in DisGUISE and DOLLS.

‘DisGUISE and DOLLS’ is on at the Pitt Rivers Museum until 21st March (Admission is free).

James Corrigan’s production of Bent by Martin Sherman, a play dealing with the Nazi suppression of the homosexuals, is a thought-provoking and ambitious piece, and one which will certainly engender much discussion when it opens at the O’Reilly.

The giggles of the press preview audience at the onstage nudity in the opening scene were soon silenced by the actors’ believable portrayal of the anguished suffering in concentration camps, even without the visual aid of the piles of corpses which will provide a focal point in the final performance.

Chris Greenwood put in a moving performance as Max, the play’s central character. It is one of the play’s great strengths that Max is not merely painted as a victim but as an emotionally complex character. Perhaps slightly more attention could have been paid to considering the effects of Max’s wealthy background on his characterisation as this came slightly as a surprise.

Max’s boyfriend Rudy (Matt Gavan) provided a neat contrast to the central role and some humour. Gavan’s movements around the stage felt very natural, yet although his vocal performance was obviously designed to be in opposition to Max’s, delivery was a little too rushed at times – something easily correctible before the play’s opening.

Joe Eyre (as Horst) and Jared Fortune (as Wolf) played some difficult scenes with conviction, although Fortune’s simpering glances at Max in the first scene were a little too comic. The contrast between Fortune’s death throes and Jacob Lloyd’s rendition of ‘Streets of Berlin’ provided one of the play’s most powerful passages, showing subtly of direction.

One weakness in characterisation which all the actors shared, with the partial exception of Brian McMahon (as Uncle Freddie), was a separation from the time period. While the concentration camp setting was gruellingly believable, there was little sense that this was 1930s Berlin at the play’s opening – a problem which needs to be looked at not only in terms of costume and set design but in individual performances.

Further design elements should add a lot to this production. The fence which will be constructed between the audience and the actors should be a particularly effective design tool – not only highlighting the segregation of the gay community but placing the audience in a fittingly voyeuristic position. Bent is an ambitious and well-executed piece in which minor errors will be ironed out easily before performance. It should prove very popular at the O’Reilly next week.

Isit and watch intently as the ensemble stand before me, taking turns at random to count to twenty, eyes closed, faces showing expressions of complete concentration. A seemingly simple feat, anyone who has ever attempted theatrical ensemble work will be familiar with the difficulty of this exercise, which involves counting from one to twenty, where no two members may say the same number simultaneously.

The intangible bond of the group that was made apparent in their warm-up carried solemnly through the entire play. The actors were not performing as individual characters, but working together as an ensemble. Not for one second was the faith of a character lost, a line forgotten, or a silence unintentional. Brittany Ashworth and Ellen Jones’s jointly directed rendition of Frederico Garcia Lorca’s Blood Wedding, introduces most characters not by name, but rather by familiar relation. As such, the play centres around the arranged marriage between the Groom (Tom Garton) and Bride (Chloë Wicks), who still harbours feelings for a past lover, Leonardo (Alex Khosla). Set in the early 1930s, this lyrical drama tells a tale of raw human grief, family honour, and rebellion against the overpowering restraints of a rural Andalusian existence.

Though a tragedy, the cast have successfully incorporated subtle moments of physical comedy which provide a welcome break from the solemn atmosphere of the rest of the play. Additionally, the intensity and drama of the acting is broken up with elements of choreographed dancing and singing. The songs are accompanied at different times by two guitarists, a cello and a violinist set to original music written by Genevieve Dawson. The lullaby sung in Spanish in harmony by the Bride and Mother-in-Law (Olivia Charton-Jones) in the second scene of Act One, which foreshadows much of the tragedy ahead, effectively incorporates the beauty of the original Spanish verse.

This production of Blood Wedding, or Bodas de Sangre , has stayed true to its Spanish roots. Despite the risk of losing its meaning in translation by singing the lullaby in Spanish, the emotions, regardless of language, are well-captured and preserve the original spirit adding authenticity to the play.
To describe any production in one word is a great challenge. Confused Production’s Blood Wedding is the exception to this rule. Passion.

five stars

Blood Wedding is at the OFS from Tuesday – Saturday, 7.30pm

Angels and Airwaves aren’t what you might call a ‘normal’ rock band. There’s no charming back-story of all the members meeting at school and instantly becoming friends for life. Instead, they’re more of a second-generation group, formed from an odd mixture of bits of other bands: the drummer is from The Offspring, the bassist originally played for 30 Seconds To Mars, and their lead singer is Blink-182 front man, Tom DeLonge. A little surprisingly, the end result of this medley is actually rather good.

Released as a free digital download, their latest album Love was described by DeLonge as the ‘biggest release’ of his life. Although perhaps not the masterpiece he promised, it certainly appears to illustrate a growing maturity, both in his music and attitude to life. The flickering, darting introduction to ‘Soul Survivor’, the dreamy ‘Et Ducit Mundum Per Luce’, the frantic crescendos in ‘Hallucinations’ – they are all indicative of a band that are beginning to free themselves from the limitations of typical American pop-punk.

Every now and then they slip back into their comfort zone, and a couple of the songs aren’t quite as ambitious as one would like them to be (Epic Holiday in particular is dangerously reminiscent of Green Day), while their fondness for guitar effects occasionally threatens to drown us in a vague, over-distorted mess.

Nevertheless, the large majority of tracks seem well polished and flow smoothly into each other, although there is perhaps a slightly repetitive feel, with the album repeatedly trying to drag the listener into swelling crescendos, which becomes tiresome. If one looks past these minor faults, however, it is possible to enjoy Love.

It doesn’t quite live up to the hype: it’s not world changing and it’s certainly no ‘blend of Radiohead and U2′, but we can forgive DeLonge his over-zealous ambitions. Apart from his comparison of Love to Pink Floyd’s The Wall, that is. Too far, Tom, too far.

Cast your mind back a few of years and you may remember the hype surrounding indie four-piece The Sunshine Underground. Their debut album Raise The Alarm received great critical acclaim and the band hotly tipped to become the next big thing. However a long period of inactivity resulted in the band almost disappearing into the ether. Having now released their sophomore album, Nobody’s Coming To Save You, I caught up with front man Craig Wellington and guitarist Stuart Jones to discuss their background and return to the music scene.

From early on in the interview it’s apparent that the band have worked restlessly from the start to achieve success and to build up a strong fan-base. Things began to get serious for the band when they relocated from Shrewsbury to Leeds. Jones explains the importance of the decision; ‘We moved up there with the band in mind – if we had an evening off from work we’d spend it rehearsing.’ The fresh and versatile music scene and plentiful venues gave the group a platform to unleash their energetic live performances. After the release of Raise The Alarm the band embarked on a large tour, and soon sweaty local gigs turned into festival appearances, most notably at Glastonbury. The guys thrive off their live shows and Jones speaks passionately about them, ‘It’s nice when it’s a challenge to share the bill; not everyone’s there to see you play’.

Wellington describes The Sunshine Underground as ‘a guitar band, with dance music influences’. The band’s combination of quirky offbeat rhythms and funk driven guitars resulted in them being branded as being part of the ‘new-rave’ movement alongside acts like Klaxons and Hadouken in 2007. Although the exposure was appreciated, it was not a pigeonholing the band wanted to embrace. ‘It was invented by NME, but everyone knew it was a quick label that would be extinct in six months.’

The band’s reluctance to jump on this media-constructed bandwagon was a large factor in why the group’s second album has taken so long to see the light of day. Wellington explains how they wanted to create a very different record to their first; ‘We had to try and make our own sound.’ Despite taking a long time to get their act together, Wellington is much happier with how the album came together the second time around. ‘It felt much more like making a record this time; we had more time to think about the mood we wanted’. By working with Kasabian producer Barny the band have been able to hold much more creative control over their sound in the studio. Being signed to independent label City Rockers has allowed the band time to mature since their first effort (a relative luxury compared with the pressure often imposed by major record labels).

Over the course of their break the band wrote almost thirty new songs. With regard to the final track selection Jones jokes: ‘after extensively touring the first record you think to yourself, “do I really want to be playing this song live?”‘ The result is a follow up album packed with infectious vocal hooks and soaring guitar riffs – as Wellington puts it, ‘we always like big choruses!’ I was interested in what the band thought about the changes in the music industry since they first started. ‘We’ve come to the conclusion that our album is going to get ripped illegally – everyone’s does – but in a way we don’t mind that now. Obviously it would be ace if everyone pays for it, but if someone does steal our album and likes it, hopefully they’ll pay to come to a gig, or even buy the CD’. Jones has a refreshingly positive attitude to the bleaker side of the

music industry: ‘Spotify is brilliant to be honest, the more people that hear [our record] the better’.

The band hope to be returning to the festival circuit this summer and Jones jokes that the only way they’ll manage to headline Glastonbury is by befriending and marrying festival co-organiser Emily Eavis. I’m tempted to say that The Sunshine Underground could one day headline, but judging by the inaccuracy of past predictions, I’ll just settle for a third record sometime before 2014 instead.