Every so often, a film’s release is overshadowed by the news of certain production problems, whether it’s the death of Heath Ledger halfway through filming The Imaginarium ofDoctor Parnassus or the furious ranting of Christian Bale recorded on the set of Terminator Salvation. Yet events overshadowing The Ghost are surely unique: as you read this, director Roman Polanski is awaiting extradition to the US on charges of having unlawful sex with a 13 year old in 1977. Legions of Hollywood legends have signed a petition for his release, arguing, amongst other things, that Polanski’s artistic skills should not waste away with him in jail. However, since his retrial seems at this point inevitable, The Ghost may be the final film of Roman Polanski. What a shame, then, that this is not quite the fitting epitaph to his legendary career.
Based on the 2007 Robert Harris novel of the same name, The Ghost is a knowingly absurd political conspiracy thriller, wherein a third-rate ghost writer (Ewan McGregor) is drafted in at the last minute to help British ex-Prime Minister Adam Lang (Pierce Brosnan) finish his memoirs, with his predecessor having died under unusual circumstances. Soon, Lang is facing a trial for war crimes and crimes against humanity at the ICC, having been accused of aiding the illegal water-boarding of terrorist suspects. The parallels with a certain orange-tanned Middle East Peace Envoy aren’t exactly subtle. However, the film knows exactly what its limitations are, and thankfully makes no attempt at clumsy moralising. Instead, Polanski sits back and lets the grand conspiracy gradually reveal itself over a leisurely two hours.
The performances are fairly strong, with McGregor making a likeable and interesting lead (despite a bloody awful cock-er-ney accent, guv’nor) and Brosnan flashing a winning smile often enough for the cracks in Lang’s persona to shine through. Yet the real standout is Olivia Williams as Lang’s wife, a performance that skilfully balances a biting intelligence with intense emotional vulnerability. Backing all this up is an interesting and unsettling score from Alexandre Desplat that holds the attention when the script occasionally cannot.
Most importantly, Polanski’s direction is assured, drawing tension out of every scene and creating an effective atmosphere of intrigue. Indeed, in their reactions to The Ghost, critics have repeatedly compared him to Hitchcock, a plaudit that seems somewhat generous; this has none of the stylish audacity or sheer balls that Martin Scorsese’s direction of Shutter Island displayed. Instead, Polanski directs in an inoffensive manner, refusing to show off in the manner of Scorsese. Perhaps he felt less need, having rightly beaten him to Best Director at the 2003 Oscars with The Pianist. Indeed, it’s a shame that Polanski’s heartfelt and deeply personal portrait of one man’s survival of the Holocaust wasn’t his last film, as it offers far more insight into the mind of the troubled director than this workaday thriller. Many have pointed to the similarities between Lang and Polanski, both men awaiting trial in a foreign country for crimes that many regard as morally ambiguous, yet there is never a sense of Polanski’s personal investment in the story. He treats it in a skilful yet frustratingly dispassionate manner, and refuses to wring more emotion out of the script.
The Ghost is a well-constructed thriller directed with style – particularly the inspired framing of the final shot – yet it lacks any truly personal touches from Polanski. It’s entertaining enough, but one can’t help but be frustrated that this might be his last cinematic endeavour, as it shows his directorial skills to be on fine, if uninspired and impersonal, form. If it proves to be Polanski’s last film, The Ghost will be no more than a stylish footnote on an illustrious career.
Yesterday saw the opening show of this year’s Oxford Fashion Week. The Style Show, taking place in Oxford’s Town Hall, was a new addition to this year’s line up: the event is in its second year, and with The Couture Show dropped from the bill, the Style show offered a refocus of the event towards a younger audience with tickets costing £6. Cherwell Fashion was invited along to experience the show that lasted nearly 6 hours, and to forecast what the week ahead (if not the weather!) would be for OFW.
Entering the Town Hall, it was hard not to be surprised by the queue that awaited us. Whilst we nearly avoided crashing a ‘reunion lunch’ going on in the next room, we quickly escorted ourselves into the hall and to the friendly staff of OFW to gain ourselves the coveted ‘press entry’. The burgeoning queue outside was waiting patiently to discover what was going on inside the main hall, and of course for the rumoured ‘goody bags’ on offer to the first 300 people through the door. Though the queue itself posed no worry that everyone would grab themselves a mini selection of Dermologica goodies (probably the only worthwhile investment in the shiny black bags), the hall quickly filled up with an excited buzz as the first show of the day was about to start.
Featuring the “Emerging Designers Collection” including Shakyra Shakeena and Terri Hughes (check out our slideshow below), the show began confidently: although the majority of the models were and did appear to be students, it was carried out fluidly and had the attention of the entire hall. Yet the one major problem, which we found with other shows during the day, was the ending – or the fact there was none. The shows were consistent, yet the ending was never signalled leaving an awkward dithering of the audience and the choices of whether to clap or not to clap and to move or not to move. A simple dip of the lights, abrupt change of music or even the parade of the entire models featured (a usual occurrence) would be a great improvement in defining the end of the show. Also there were a few other ‘glitches’ in the show(s) we noticed, and a few people in the audience surrounding us commented on them. Firstly, the underwear. Although not the lingerie show, there were certainly some pieces on offer! A few of the items worn were either sheer, nudes, or had a low back: some of the models were wearing black bras which were thus visible through the fabric or the bra itself was not the appropriate fit for the top worn. Seeing the underwear on show was uncomfortable next to the professionalism that the event was attempting to convey. With the concept show coming up, perhaps this is something to check on before sending out the models out slightly too over-exposed. Secondly, the music. In some of the samples played during various shows, the “BBC Radio 1” commercial was heard over the mixes (if you’ve listened to any of the late night shows, such as Annie Mac’s, you’ll understand what we mean!) – now we know the station isn’t associated with the event, so all we can assume is that the music was ripped from the station (or taken from a site) – we’re not questioning the legality of it, but simply the professionalism involved: again it was distracting and it would have been better to use music that wasn’t interrupted!
Divided between the runway and stalls, where facials, body art and various clothing collections were on offer to distract the audience, the Main Hall provided a picturesque setting to a modest, but inviting introduction to the world of fashion and OFW for many first time goers. During the breaks between the shows (around twenty minutes), we headed off to the individual stalls in search of any other fashionable goodies and to ask those taking part what they thought of the day.
Our favourite stall, if for the sheer amount of choice available, was Gillie McCollum’s home business start-up “Piglet Skirts”. The business began when Gillie’s daughter (currently studying at Durham University) complained about the price of similar skirts costing up to £50: deciding that she could make them cheaper and better, Gillie designed the elasticated skirts to be versatile -the range of materials and prints (see our favourites below) certainly mean you can’t run out of choice. Our favourite is the ‘Chanel-inspired’ number, and the blue satin skirt is one of her best sellers – starting from £14, the skirts are definitely worth the money, worn with a simple vest t-shirt or even a more delicate blouse, they would be a great investment for the summer. Also check out these Abercrombie-esque PJ’s – but at £20!
We stuck around for the next show – a change of music and crowds began to gather around the stage. The first of three ‘High Street’ shows, Crew, Gap and Next ‘showed’ their clothes from both their female and male (hurrah!) collection. Yet we were a bit perplexed: poking out from a few pieces of clothing were the tags – we later learnt that the clothes were returned to the stores after the show making us wonder, were the stores actually showing their collections, or was it OFW showing their clothes (sadly we weren’t around for the other shows so couldn’t see how the other stores panned out). Nonetheless, the show was worthwhile to watch, yet as previously mentioned we didn’t understand if it had ended! Check out a few of our pictures from the show:
Whilst out and about trawling the stalls, we stumbled on some rather well dressed women (to be expected from a Fashion event!). Wearing two colourful floral dresses from Republic, Christchurch girls Chloe Mills and Anakaret Fillipich (see the photo below) had come out to “check out the style show, and if it was any good, get a few tickets to the Concept Show”. Chloe’s entire outfit had caught our eye: bought in her native Australia, the Woodford & Co cream cape shows the true versatility of pales transitioning from Winter to Summer and her gorgeous ring (again from Australia, but we’re sure Topshop will sell something similar) added that touch of glam perfect for a day out.
The next show we were treated to was the Annabelinda “Vintage Show”. As massive fans of the vintage wear (using REIGN, Unicorn and various Parisian finds in our shoots), we couldn’t help but claim our space early in the front. The clothing was classic: from structured tea dresses to the exuberant patterns, we’d probably have bought it all – if we could. Our favourite piece was the green all-in-one dress suit (see the slideshow below), yet we couldn’t forgive some of the chunkier and unattractive shoes- some things vintage should just be left in the closet! The music did cut off towards the end – we had noticed an intentional shift in pace from the previous shows, but it proved to be too slow and the timing was off.
After the vintage show, we took our last sweep of the floor: at six hours long, we sadly had other things to do, but were adamant to return for the finale. The other two stalls that truly caught our eye were “Terri Hughes Boutique” (a collection that had showed earlier) and Aspire, one of our favourite stores on the High Street.
Terri Hughes Boutique, www.terrihughesboutique.com Run by Terri Hughes (the woman herself), the boutique is primarily a vintage store (selling both online and on Ebay) sourcing from various wholesalers, grandparents’ wardrobes and shops in America, the outfit on show (see below) truly caught our eye. Whilst we did describe the skirt to be as if “a Hermes scarf had thrown up on pleats”, it was our favourite piece on display in the entire show – at £35 it was a bit pricey for a day out, but for something one-off, it’s a great investment. Talking to Terri herself (appearing to be in her early twenties), we were just slightly overwhelmed: having finished a degree in Fashion and now pursuing a Masters in Enterprise Management -not only did she sell clothes – but made them too, it certainly put our ‘day jobs’ to shame!
Aspire, High Street, www.aspirestyle.co.uk If you haven’t ventured into Aspire yet, the Trinity term is definitely a brilliant time to make a visit. Selling everything from clothing and homeware to jewellery and gifts, if you’ve got a birthday to buy for, it’s the perfect stop. The range and choice is so huge, it’s often hard to decide what not to buy. Our stand-out piece was this cream dress: at £69 it’s a bit expensive for a boutique, but with the right heels and accessories, it’ll suit any black tie event.
At just before 3 o’clock, we decided we’d had enough of wandering and went our separate ways. Although it’s great to have the gap between the individual shows, the stalls are not distracting enough to fill the entire 2 hours (a “guestimate” at the entire time left between shows lasting between 10-20 minutes), and we noticed (see the photo below) are few other visitors were feeling the strain too. Perhaps a few more chairs would be appreciated, instead of resorting to the floor.
Just before we left the event, we saw our favourite outfit/well-dressed person of the day. Olga Owczarek, one of the photographers at the show looked fabulously cool in her Utility inspired (our take) outfit. Bought recently, the high waisted peg- leg trousers were from Zara, and were complimented by Gap sandals (forget gladiator, think chunky straps) and a linen shirt – we definitely wanted to steal her style.
We managed to return in time for the 6 o’clock finale. Broadcasting on the Ukraine’s number one T.V Channel, the Sunlight collection by Zinaida Likhacheva had already caught our eye when paroling the stalls. The headdresses were exquisite – apparently inspired by traditional Ukrainian hair knots – it was so tempting to purchase one for any upcoming balls. Fortunately the catwalk began and our purses remained firmly closed within our bags. The collection itself certainly championed the ‘maxi dress’, the style of the moment as we move into summer, and whilst not all to our taste, the headdresses themselves stole the show (see our main photo for our favourite).
The event ended with a certainly subdued and smaller audience than with what it began, but at six hours long, it would be hard to expect anyone to stick out the entire show. Yet we gained positive reports. Emma, from Jesus College, told us that “the shows are really good and there’s a great atmosphere. At £6 it is definitely worth the money”. Furthermore the models seemed to enjoy themselves: Sophie Lassman, said, “some of the clothes are amazing. I particularly love the London College of fashion and Zinaida Likhacheva pieces. I’ve met some really lovely people and not just from Oxford, Brookes and the city too. I’m terrified about falling on my backside in some of the shoes I have to wear though- they’re really slippery”, and whilst there were certainly a few hitches, the show seemed to be received well by those participating, attending and even organised. Rosie Piggott, one of the show’s main directors, stated that the show was a success and with over 500 people attending, it sold very well and was very happy with the outcome.
We certainly enjoyed ourselves, and whilst there were a few hitches, it’s nothing that can’t be improved upon for the next week and even the next year. The Style Show itself is an interesting concept – it definitely felt like a smaller, more contained version of the Birmingham Clothes Show, thus whilst this time it attracted a good size crowd, a returning audience maybe tricky to achieve. It’s location in the Town Hall was beautiful, yet we do think next time more could be done and at six hours, it’s incredibly long to wait out all the shows with limited seating capacity. To do it again, perhaps open slightly later, encourage a walk-around before the shows start and expand the catwalk. Furthermore, additional seats lined up would encourage people to stay and give the catwalk a greater presence within the show. We’re however truly excited for the remainder of the week and can’t wait for the Concept Show, which we’re hoping to be the event of the week. Perhaps see you there?
Yesterday saw the opening show of this year’s Oxford Fashion Week. The Style Show, taking place in Oxford’s Town Hall, was a new addition to this year’s line up: the event is in its second year, and with Couture show dropped from the bill, the Style show offered a refocus of the event towards a younger audience with tickets costing £6. Cherwell Fashion was invited along to experience the show that lasted nearly an entire 6 hours, and to forecast what the week ahead (if not the weather!) would be for OFW.
Entering the Town Hall, it was hard not to be surprised by the queue that awaited us. Whilst we nearly avoided crashing a ‘reunion lunch’ going on the next room, we quickly escorted ourselves into the hall and to the friendly staff of OFW to gain ourselves the coveted ‘press entry’. The burgeoning queue outside was waiting patiently to discover what was going on inside the main hall, and of course for the rumoured ‘goody bags’ on offer to the first 300 people through the door. Though the queue itself posed no worry that everyone would grab themselves a mini selection of Dermologica goodies (probably the only worthwhile investment in the shiny black bags), the hall quickly filled up with an excited buzz as the first show of the day was about to start.
Featuring the “Emerging Designers Collection” including Shakyra Shakeena and Terri Hughes (check out our slideshow below), the show began confidently: although the majority of the models were and did appear to be students, it was carried out fluidly and had the attention of the entire hall. Yet the one major problem, which we found with other shows during the day, was the ending – or the fact there was none. The shows were consistent, yet the ending was never signalled leaving an awkward dithering of the audience and the choices of whether to clap or not to clap and to move or not to move. A simple dip of the lights, abrupt change of music or even the parade of the entire models featured (a usual occurrence) would be a great improvement in defining the end of the show. Also there were a few other ‘glitches’ in the show(s) we noticed, and a few people in the audience surrounding us commented on them. Firstly, the underwear. Although not the lingerie show, there were certainly some pieces on offer! A few of the items worn were either sheer, nudes, or had a low back: some of the models were wearing black bras which were thus visible through the fabric or not the appropriate fit for the top worn. Seeing the underwear on show and was uncomfortable next to the professionalism that the show was attempting to convey. With the concept show coming up, perhaps this is something to check on before sending out the models out slightly too over-exposed. Secondly, the music. In some of the samples played during various shows, the “BBC Radio 1” commercial was heard over the mixes (if you’ve listened to any of the late night shows, such as Annie Mac’s, you’ll understand what we mean!) – now we now the station isn’t associated with the event, so all we can assume is that the music was ripped from the station (or taken from a site) – we’re not questioning the legality of it, but simply the professionalism involved: again it was distracting and it would have been better to use music that wasn’t interrupted!
Divided between the runway and stalls, where facials, body art and various clothing collections were on offer to distract the audience, the Main Hall provided a picturesque to a modest, but inviting introduction to the world of fashion and OFW for many first time goers. During the breaks between the shows (around twenty minutes), we headed off to the individual stalls in search of any other fashionable goodies and to ask those taking part what they thought of the day.
Our favourite stall, if not for the sheer amount of choice available, was Gillie McCollum’s home business start-up “Piglet Skirts”. The business began when Gillie’s daughter (currently studying at Durham University) complained about the price of similar skirts costing up to £50: deciding that she could make them cheaper and better, Gillie designed the elasticated skirts to be versatile -the range of materials and prints (see our favourites below) certainly mean you can’t run out of choice. Our favourite is the ‘Chanel-inspired’ number, and the blue satin skirt is one of her best sellers – starting from £14, the skirts are definitely worth the money, worn with a simple vest t-short or even a more delicate blouse, they would be a great investment for the summer. Also check out these Abercrombie-esque PJ’s – but at £20!
We stuck around for the next show – a change of music and crowds began to gather around the stage. The first of three ‘High Street’ shows, Crew, Gap and Next ‘showed’ their clothes from both their female and male (hurrah!) collection. Yet we were a bit perplexed: poking out from a few pieces of clothing were the tags – we later learnt that the clothes were returned to the stores after the show making us wonder, were the stores actually showing their collections, or was it OFW showing their clothes (sadly we weren’t around for the other shows so couldn’t see how the other stores panned out). Nonetheless, the show was worthwhile to watch, yet as previously mentioned we didn’t understand if it had ended! Check out a few of our pictures from the show:
Whilst out and about trawling the stalls, we stumbled on some rather well dressed women (what to expect from a Fashion event!). Wearing two colourful floral dresses from Republic, Christchurch girls Chloe Mills and Anakaret Fillipich (see the photo below) had come out to “check out the style show, and if it was any good, get a few tickets to the Concept Show”. Chloe’s entire outfit had caught our eye: bought in her native Australia, the Woodford & Co cream cape shows the true versatility of pales transitioning from Winter to Summer and her gorgeous ring (again from Australia, but we’re sure Topshop and Australia will sell something similar) added that touch of glam perfect for a day out.
The next show we were treated to was the Annabelinda “Vintage Show”. As massive fans of the vintage wear ((using REIGN, Unicorn and various Parisian finds in our shoots), we couldn’t help but claim our space early in the front. The clothing was classic: from structured tea dresses to the exuberant patterns, we’d probably have bought it all – if we could. Our favourite piece was the green all-in-one dress suit (see the slideshow below), yet we couldn’t forgive some of the chunkier and unattractive shoes- some things vintage should just be left in the closet! The music did cut off towards the end – we had noticed an intentional shift in pace from the previous shows, but it proved to be too slow and the timing was off.
After the vintage show, we took our last sweep of the floor: at six hours long, we sadly had other things to do, but were adamant to return for the finale. The other two stalls that truly caught our eye were “Terri Hughes Boutique” (a collection that had showed earlier) and Aspire, one of our favourite stores on the High Street.
Terri Hughes Boutique, www.terrihughesboutique.com Run by Terri Hughes (the women herself), the boutique is primarily a vintage store (selling both online and on Ebay) sourcing from various wholesalers, grandparents wardrobes and shops in America, the outfit on show (see below) truly caught our eye. Whilst we did describe the skirt to be as if “a Hermes scarf had thrown up on pleats”, it was our favourite piece on show in the entire show – at £35 it was a bit pricey for a day out at the show, but for something one-off, it’s a great investment. Talking to Terri herself (appearing to be in her early twenties), we were just slightly overwhelmed: having finished a degree in Fashion and now pursuing a Masters in Enterprise Management -not only did she sell clothes – but made them two, it certainly put our ‘day jobs’ to shame!
Aspire, High Street, www.aspirestyle.co.uk If you haven’t ventured into Aspire yet, the Trinity term is definitely a brilliant time to make a visit. Selling everything from clothing, homeware to jewellery and gifts, if you’ve got a birthday to buy for, it’s the perfect stop. The range and choice is huge, it’s often hard to decide what not to buy. Our stand-out piece was this cream dress: at £69 it’s a bit expensive for a boutique, but with the right heels and accessories, it’ll suit any black tie event.
At just before 3 o’clock, we decided we’d had enough of wandering and went our separate ways. Although it’s great to have the gap between the individual shows, the stalls are not distracting enough to fulfil the entire 2 hours (a “guestimate” at the entire time left between shows lasting between 10-20 minutes), and we noticed (see the photo below) are few other visitors were feeling the strain too. Perhaps a few more chairs would be appreciated, instead of resorting to the floor.
Just before we left the event, we saw our favourite outfit/well-dressed person of the day. Olga Owczarek, one of the photographers at the show (and often contributes to The Cherwell) as well, looked fabulously cool in her Utility inspired (our take) outfit. Bought recently, the high waisted peg- leg trousers were from Zara, and were complimented by Gap sandals (forget gladiator, think chunky straps) and a linen shirt – we definitely wanted to steal her style.
We managed to return in time for the 6 o’clock finale. Broadcasting on the Ukraine’s number one T.V Channel, the Sunlight collection by Zinaida Likhacheva had already caught our eye when paroling the stalls. The headdresses were exquisite – apparently inspired by traditional Ukrainian hair knots – it was so tempting not to purchase one for any upcoming balls. Fortunately the catwalk began and our purses remained firmly closed with our bags. The collection itself certainly championed the ‘maxi dress’, the style of the moment as we move into summer, and whilst not all to our taste, the headdresses themselves stole the show (see our main photo for our favourite).
The event ended with a certainly subdued and smaller audience than with what it began, but at six hours long, it would be hard to expect anyone to stick out the entire show. Yet we gained positive reports. Emma, from Jesus College, told us that “the shows are really good and there’s a great atmosphere. At £6 it is definitely worth the money”. Furthermore the models seemed to enjoy themselves: Sophie Lassman, said, “some of the clothes are amazing. I particularly love the London College of fashion and Zinaida Likhacheva pieces. I’ve met some really lovely people and not just from Oxford, Brookes and the city too. I’m terrified about falling on my backside in some of the shoes I have to wear though- they’re really slippery”, and whilst there were certainly a few hitches, the show seemed to be received well by those participating, attending and even organised. Rosie Piggott, one of the show’s main directors, stated the show was a success and with over 500 people attending, it sold very well and was very happy with the outcome.
We certainly enjoyed ourselves, and whilst there were a few hitches, it’s nothing that can’t be improved upon for the next week and even the next year. The Style Show itself is an interesting concept – it definitely felt like a smaller, more contained version of the Birmingham Clothes Show, thus whilst this time it attracted a good size crowd, a returning audience maybe tricky to achieve. It’s location in the Town Hall was beautiful, yet we do think next time more could be done and at six hours, it’s incredibly long to wait out all the shows with limited seating capacity. To do it again, perhaps open slightly later, encourage a walk-around before the shows start and expand the catwalk. Furthermore, additional seats lined up would encourage people to stay and give the catwalk a greater presence within the show. We’re however truly excited for the remainder of the week and can’t wait for the Concept Show, which we’re hoping to be the event of the week. Perhaps see you there?
The self-important title of The Assassination of Jesse James by the CowardRobert Ford tells you everything you need to know about the film in question including its entire plot, tone and buttock-killing length. It is by turns slow, incoherent, ponderous, predictable and thunderously dull, and was aptly described in the Hollywood Reporter as being “smothered in pointlessly long takes, grim Western landscapes and mumbled, heavily accented dialogue.” In short, it’s one of the best films of the decade.
This is only the second film directed by Andrew Dominik, following the ultra-violent and stylish Chopper, yet he handles it with the mastery and patience of David Lean or Terrence Malick. Scenes go on just as long as they have to, as he gradually paints a portrait of America’s first true celebrity alongside his obsessive fan and eventual assassin. As Jesse James, Brad Pitt is the best he’s been since Fight Club, as he carefully reveals a man trapped by his own fame and persona whose mind is rapidly disintegrating. Alongside him is the serpentine Casey Affleck, portraying an unctuous, beady-eyed Robert Ford. Together, the two men develop an unnatural friendship born out of circumstance, and it’s not much of a spoiler to say that it doesn’t end well.
Yet for Dominik, plot is entirely secondary. Instead, he provides surprisingly modern ruminations on the destructive construct of celebrity and examines the nature of obsession. And while Affleck, Pitt and the surrounding cast are impressive, the real star of the film is the cinematography of Roger Deakins. In Jesse James, Deakins is at his best, employing natural lighting, entirely new lens combinations and haunting time-lapse photography to incredible effect. Early on, Deakins shoots a night-time train robbery with utter confidence and tenderness, embracing the darkness and smoke. Indeed, so stunning is this ten minute scene that it threatens to derail the rest of the film, though Dominik’s consummate skill ensures that this never happens.
Upon its heavily delayed release in 2007, the film was almost entirely drowned out by No Country For Old Men and There Will Be Blood. It was a commercial failure, and resultantly Andrew Dominik has been unable to find funding for another film since. Three years on and Jesse James remains unfairly ignored, yet it is increasingly clear that he has created a supremely confident masterpiece.
Somewhere in the east, adherents of religious sects are killing one another. Rationality and women’s rights are the predictable collateral damage. Agora could easily have been no more than a sword-and-sandals epic for the Iraq War generation, nodding to the standard set of liberal sensibilities. But while it competently fills this brief, Agora achieves much more. It is a brave and deeply thought-provoking film.
Plot synopses focusing on the relationship of Rachel Weisz’ fourth-century philosopher Hypatia with her slave Davos, do Agora little credit because its strength lies elsewhere. It deals powerfully with the intimate and the personal, but in a very different way from a suburban character-piece. Like Hypatia, who looks at the stars to understand their movements, Agora deals with what can be observed: the working of historical forces, most importantly the fall of Rome and rise of Christianity – two sides, we understand, of the same coin.
Some of the film’s Christians are more psychopathic than self-righteous, but Christianity itself is not dismissed as mere metaphysical insanity. Perhaps it is a failing, from a theologian’s point of view, but doctrines and dogmas are nowhere to be found. To the average convert, what distinguishes the new faith is its role as a social movement of the poor and disenfranchised, not least slaves like Davos. In this context, it seems almost irrelevant to point out the tragic absurdity of a slave beating his master with a club while shouting, ‘I’m a Christian, I’m a Christian!’
The stroke of genius, and Agora‘s reason for being, is the juxtaposition of this revolutionary passion with an equally convincing portrayal of pure intellectual curiosity. It is an achievement to make scientific experiments this dramatic, comprehensible, and genuinely interesting. The shots from space succeed remarkably well at instilling cosmic wonder. We sympathise with the Roman prefect Orestes, who becomes torn between pragmatic politics and awe-struck admiration for Hypatia’s unearthly pursuit of reasoned understanding.
Ultimately, even with its ambiguities, Agora is a celebration of enlightened scepticism. It locates religion on the streets, and rationality among the stars.
Monday: Meet Guinevere, one of my assistants, for a skinny soya frapuccino, a staring contest with a Danish and a whole host of insincere compliments. We’re concerned about the photoshoot. Mario Testino has sent his regrets that he’s unavailable. After a quick Google, we find a guy called Marionetto de Testosterone. They won’t know the difference.
Tuesday: Meeting about West End launch party. No-one can agree which club to host it at. Someone suggests Maya. The girl next to me objects: ‘Wasn’t Charlotte Church papped there last week?’ We quickly change to Movida.
Wednesday: Model scouting. Twelve hours walking around Oxford searching for beautiful people. Slim pickings. Puffa jackets make it annoyingly hard to evaluate lingerie models. In desperate attempt to find some, go to Topshop changing rooms and try peeking round curtains. After awkward confrontation with security staff am escorted out, and told I’m banned until ponchos come back into fashion.
Thursday: Goodybag crisis. We have nothing to put in them. Call sponsorship to chase-up some leads. Two hours later get joyous text back: ‘Great news! We have a generous contribution.’ ‘Fantastic, what?’ I reply. ‘Teabags!’ ‘Gold-plated teabags?’ ‘Um, no. Just 25 teabags.’ After heavy negotiation manage to get 50 more teabags. It’s going to be a long day.
Friday: Outfits begin to arrive for the concept show. One of them has hooves. Gaga always looks fabulous in these sorts of things, but I suspect she has someone to tell her which way round you’re supposed to wear them. After trying one outfit as top, skirt and scarf, we decide it’s probably meant to be a hat.
Saturday: Rung up by Cherwell person. He seems slightly miffed that I haven’t written him the article I promised. He points out the deadline was 48 hours ago. ‘Dahling,’ I reply, ‘I do hemlines, not deadlines.’ He doesn’t seem to think this is an acceptable response.
Caroline Davies is Marketing Director of Oxford Fashion Week
There is no debating the fact that studying Shakespeare is more central to any Western English course today than it has ever been before. Yet when observing reactions to his comedies, seldom does one glimpse a smile or hear a cackle from those reading the text or observing the performance. This raises several questions: does placing such a large emphasis on reading Shakespeare in the curriculum prevent him from amusing today’s audiences? Or is it the isolation of the text from the realm of performance? Or should the blame be placed on the ‘comedies’ themselves, that fail to invoke contemporary humour in today’s context? And does all this undermine the appeal of these texts to a 21st Century society, or is there room for revitalisation?
I believe the answer to the final question is yes, and that there are means by which Shakespearean comedy can tickle even the palette of today’s humour, due to the nature of the text itself and the encouragement of live performance.
Right now proving this seems a stupendous challenge, as memories of glossing over ‘funny’ scenes in A-level English classes spring to mind, faced with the prospect of analysing why the Jacobeans found syphilis so entertaining. Our sense of humour clearly does evolve, and is shaped by cultural differences in perspective. A quick glance at Youtube will show the bizarre differences between Japanese entertainment and our own. Yet even Western taste is diverse in its own right, as the British satirical sarcasm of popular shows such as Mock the Week or black, dry comedy of Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels contrast starkly with the slapstick romantic comedy that is so popular in the United States. Acknowledging this cultural diversity makes it even more important to find living humour in comedies written for an audience that existed over four centuries ago. If as a consequence we accept the fact there are no objective yardsticks that determine what is entertaining and what is not, then humour is as transient as fashion is, and Shakespeare is seriously outdated (scrunchies to Carrie Bradshaw).
How then, can we overcome this and give Shakespearean comedy its deserved spirit of popular revival? My experience of watching the thoroughly entertaining A Comedy of Errors at the Manchester Royal Exchange Theatre seems a good place to start. By adding modern accents to the performance the producers fashioned a bridge between Elizabethan and contemporary understandings of certain emotions. These came in the form of providing the two anxious Dromios with inhalers, as well as dressing the Syracusian tourists in Ray Bans. These iconic props proved effective due to the timeless and universally accessible quality of the experience of being frustrated, or being a stranger in an unfamiliar place.
Yet, on deeper inspection it becomes apparent that the performance’s effectiveness was also a result of the two aspects suggested before: the nature of Shakespearean comedy itself and the sophisticated level of acting provided by the cast. Dromio’s hilarious description of Nell, whom he falsely believes to be his wife thanks to a classic case of mistaken identity (Act 3 Scene 2), was a product of splendid acting, effective casting and clever prose. Such an excellent put-down as ‘spherical, like a globe. I could find countries in her’, is a line that almost delivers itself.
And so Shakespeare can be humorous; the proof is the amused audience. We need not claim that humour carries an intrinsic value, Rather, we can acknowledge that Shakespeare himself could mould lines so witty and raw as to draw laughter from even a desensitised twenty-first century crowd of Brits. Shakespeare’s comedic scenes are a far cry from prudish Jane Austen-esque shock at the legs of a piano on display: with sophisticated casting and acting, bringing Shakespearean comedy to life is clearly possible.
After all, Shakespeare’s comedies are plays written to be performed, not novels to be read silently in the drawing room. So a performer’s appreciation of the text and an audience’s willingness to participate are the only ingredients required for Shakespearean comedy truly to be comedy.
I won’t lie, having been told I was writing the ‘My Hometown’ feature this week I was concerned. Wadhurst is certainly not one of those buzzing, vibrant hotspots; it’s a village on the Kent/ Sussex border with a greengrocers and a fish and chip shop that doubles up as a Chinese takeaway (casually redefining fusion cooking). Once a centre for the iron industry, I can safely say it has moved on to bigger and better things: it’s now home to Big Brother presenter Davina McCall and the billionaire inheritor to the Tetra-Pak Empire, Hans Rausing. Nevertheless, despite the parallels that could be drawn between this small village and the celebrity culture in L.A., Wadhurst has managed to keep its charm as a quiet and picturesque country parish.
If you’re looking for a good meal out, Wadhurst does not disappoint. Of course there’s the Chinese fish and chip shop, optimistically named ‘The Happy House’, and it’s fair to say that it lives up to its title. The quality of the fish has led some to refer to the village as ‘Codhurst’: a stunning example of local humour. There’s also a health food cafe that emits an unusual aroma of herbs and feet, and seven pubs, one which pushes the boundaries of the country pub image with a controversial tapas menu. Foods of the world are just a walk away for the five thousand strong local community.
Having been a market town in the past, Wadhurst today has retained this feel with a traditional greengrocers, butchers, bakery, bank and iron mongers, which make it unique to other villages in the area. Although this array of shops is much enjoyed by the vast number of OAPs, if finding the latest fashion is more your thing, the shopping in nearby Tunbridge Wells, at a distance of 7 miles, is an easy trip. This spa town, previously a popular English holidaying resort, brilliantly combines the elegance of its Regency buildings with some great night life. Step aside Kukui and The Bridge, this town offers much more: El Mono, which is translated on their website as ‘The One’, but also has the Spanish meaning of ‘The Monkey’, never fails to entertain and is just as cheeky as the primate. It cunningly manages to advertise itself as a club, yet in fact consists solely of three levels of corridors and three flights of stairs- if you love ‘bumping and grinding’, space is so limited that you just can’t avoid it.
Wadhurst really has got it all, and what it lacks is found only a short train or car ride away (or a long walk if you’re very eco-friendly). If you manage to avoid the paparazzi, and don’t mind having to practically walk backwards behind very slow-moving pensioners, it’s really a lovely place to live. Forget any thoughts of travel plans to Thailand this summer and think again; tourism in Wadhurst could be the next big thing.
Go on. Give me a definition of underground music. I bet every person sufficiently interested to read this article has a definition they’re just aching to unleash. I bet they’re comprehensive, and lovingly worded. A couple of them probably reference Ned’s Atomic Dustbin. I also bet they’re all completely different, and all correct – to a given value of correctness. This is because the underground, or ‘indie’ or ‘alternative’ or whatever else you want to call it, has become impossible to define. What I’ll look at here is why. How did we define it in the past, and what has happened to it in the present?
The Sixties marked the beginning of underground music in a sense approximate to the one in which we use the term. It existed before, but differently. It consisted of a series of unassailable and deeply nerdy scenes, most notably the puritan Folk genre from which Dylan found it so hard to break. During the Sixties, Rock n’ Roll, Beat, Soul and all the rest drew upon each other to create the bloated duumvirate of ‘Pop’ and ‘Rock’ which many still refer to today. As they did so, they made room for an underground which interacted in a meaningful way with the mainstream.
This was unlike its equivalents in later decades. During the subsequent thirty or so years, ‘alternative’ music would come to be a driving force, a breeding ground for new-fangled ideas which fed straight into the slower bulk of the system – the moody nursing home attendant to Rock’s Alzheimer’s-ridden grandfather. In the Sixties, Pop and Rock were too young for this. The two worlds respected one another; Bob Dylan once described Smokey Robinson as ‘America’s greatest living poet’. Both fields contained artists with a pioneer mentality, people willing to create the rules as they went along. Pet Sounds, Revolver and Phil Spector’s ‘Wall of Sound’ were more groundbreaking than the great experimental works of later decades. The same man who said that ‘avant garde is French for shit’ wrote Strawberry Fields Forever. The underground consisted of artists who found themselves left out of the conventional thrust. Some of them were too dangerous: crazies like Syd Barrett or Captain Beefheart (who locked his band in a bungalow for a year in order to create magnum opus Trout Mask Replica). Others, primarily the bands of the American Garage Rock scene like The Remains, made music which was too raw, too local. The underground of the Sixties was really one of the early Seventies. Bands whose influence was overshadowed by the vibrant sounds coming out of the mainstream were picked up instead by those who missed out on the Summer of Love. In the US, Protopunk and later the Punk of early-Seventies New York sprang from these as gradually they were unearthed.
And so the seeds were sown for Indie’s golden age: 1976-1999. In the UK certain prophetic youths – among them John Lydon and some weirdo called Steven Morrissey – were listening, and playing, and, come 1976, dramatically uprising. Suddenly, along came The Sex Pistols and everything changed. OK, so punk became a pro-capitalist sham, and yes, their music sounds awful now, and they weren’t even the first to release a UK punk single (Anarchy in the UK was pipped to the post by The Damned’s New Rose), but that doesn’t matter. Malcolm Mclaren’s genius was to realise the substance of style. He knew that underground music is about ideas. Those ideas may be anti-image, or pro-substance, or even anti-ideas, but they are still absorbed before the music, which will often be upstaged later by someone else who’s got the ideas and reckons they can use them. The final pieces were put in place by Morrissey and The Smiths. They brought to the underground an intellectualism which was at once radical and retrospective. What’s more, they wanted the music world not to collapse, or to ignore them, but to change around them. They made the underground self-conscious. As Morrissey told Melody Maker in 1983: ‘you cannot trivialise The Smiths, and you cannot trivialise anything we do’. They set in place a convection current, in which ideas would rise from the bottom to the top and back again.
Without anyone but the most pretentious noticing, popular music has changed unrecognizably. A major player in this is Hip Hop, a form rooted in some of the indiest scenes ever, and now ruling the musical roost. White people eventually realised that this was a fun prospect, and so Lady Gaga, Goldfrapp, Mr Hudson, artists who appeal to the masses, take their pointers from above and below at once. In reaction, guitar-based indie has become retrograde, while underground dance either seeks only to break into the mainstream or becomes swamped in a mess of jargon designed to isolate all but the most hardcore. The MP3 revolution completes the picture. With streaming and downloading, the significance of the record as an object, of release date, even of genre is eroded, leading to a new pattern of influences impossible to properly trace. Soon enough we’ll be back where we started in the Forties and Fifties, with a variety of unconnected musical ideas which either obsessively isolate themselves or carelessly fuse with together. Genre hasn’t quite vanished, but it no longer makes sense to talk about ‘underground’ and ‘overground’ as opposing terms; there is only what is listened to and what is not. This won’t usher in a new ideal era of musical purity and freedom, but neither does it signal the end of the world as we know it. What it means is that you need to stop talking about how you saw Florence and the Machine in 2006 and she was, like, so much better. We all know it’s a lie anyway.
