Saturday, May 31, 2025
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Online Review: It’s Complicated

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Imagine your parents stumbling into the room, lips locked, tongues imitating a washing machine on a fast, wet spin, hands groping, bodies bumping and grinding and gyrating and noises escaping that are only ever heard during the mating season of the orangutan. Pretty disgusting image, right? Now imagine that your parents are Meryl Streep and Alec Baldwin and you’ll be some way to experiencing the utter eww-fest that is It’s Complicated.

 

As a self-confessed rom-com addict, I was fully expecting the kind of frolicsome farce that is delivered in abundance by writer-director Nancy Meyers (The Holiday, What Women Want, Something’s Gotta Give), who creates a saccharine world of chocolate croissants and pastries (think Chocolat), run entirely by women who have morals as loose as their purse strings. Meyers – never one to be accused of realism – feeds us a slice of American upper-middle class pie, easing us into a female fantasy world filled with sunshine, sex and Spanish-style estates. After ten years apart, Jane Adler (Streep), the proprietor of a successful bakery in Santa Barbara, rekindles her relationship with ex-husband Jake (Baldwin) but quickly discovers that being the ‘other woman’ isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. The stress of secret liaisons in five star hotels soon pushes her into the arms of her shy architect Adam (Steve Martin), with whom she shares a mutual appreciation of…pot. While watching a bunch of stoned fifty-somethings giggling and flirting outrageously may be entertainment for some, I found myself squirming uncomfortably in my seat, experiencing some serious bouts of second-hand embarrassment.

 

There are, however, a few saving graces. While the plot won’t rock your world, the acting from Steve Martin and John Krasinksi (who plays Harley, engaged to Jane’s eldest daughter) is superb in its subtly and the inevitable laughter when one or both are on screen is thoroughly deserved. While ‘nice guy’ roles are usually overlooked in most chick flicks, Martin’s scenes offer a welcome reprieve. His softly-spoken manner and gentlemanly sweetness creates a positive contrast to Streep and Baldwin’s often uncomfortable sexual antics. Though their chemistry cannot be denied, it relies too heavily upon bodily contact to be believable, and when there are quiet moments between the two, they rarely last long enough for you to get over the shock of witnessing real, genuine intimacy.

 

If Sex and the City for seniors isn’t your thing, then steer well clear. For every twenty-something watching it and mentally bleaching their eyeballs, there is a desperate forty-something frantically scribbling down advice on how to win herself a man. Because that’s what Nancy Meyers does best – she offers hope to the lonely masses. If the beautiful Meryl Streep can re-catch the eye of the man who left her for his mistress a decade ago, then you can too! Don’t give up! There are enough sleazy worms to go around! Coming in at the two hour mark, It’s Complicated could also have done with being twenty minutes shorter. To paraphrase a line of Jake’s: ‘O M G, I thought it would never end.’

 

3 stars

 

 

Can a pill replace alcohol?

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‘Drink, pop a pill and then drive home’

Matthew Marsh, History and Politics, Keble

Most people like to drink. Some even like to inebriate themselves so much that they slump into a drunken stupor, awkwardly forget their friends’ names and unknowingly recant the same unfunny repertoire of anecdotes again and again to the same person. Often getting this drunk can be a lot of fun, frequenters of Bar Risa (RIP) will vouch for this. Sometimes the next morning can even be fun; as the fuzzy memory of the previous night requires you to impersonate Sherlock Holmes and solve the mystery of your missing phone/wallet/dignity.

However, drinking alcohol as we do today has its draw-backs. Firstly, the consumption of alcohol fuels many of the ills in society today; drinking plays a role in 65% of suicides and 40% of domestic abuse cases. Secondly, I genuinely believe that hangovers are the second greatest evil ever to plague my life (just loosing out to spawns of Satan- the cast of Loose Women).

So, surely we should welcome the new wonder drug created by some clever science-types over at Imperial College, London. The drug is in essence a synthetic alcohol; it works just like normal alcohol on the nerves that provide a sense of well-being and relaxation.

Scientists hypothesise that they will be able to extract ethanol from alcoholic drinks and replace it with the drug. Thus, one will be able to consume “alcoholic” drinks exactly as we do today – minus their ugliest side affects.

But for me, the greatest advantage of these faux-alcoholic drinks would be one’s ability to instantaneously inhibit the effects of the drugs one has consumed by popping a ‘sober-up’ pill.

The scientists who are developing these drugs highlight the practical importance of a sober-up pill; for example, one would be able to consume alcohol, pop a pill, and then drive home.

But aside the most pragmatic uses of the sober-up pill, I can think of dozens of times I would love to be temporarily intoxicated…invariably awkward conversations would become a breeze as I momentarily sink into a daze of alcohol induced relaxation. In the morning, after a night at one of my favorite haunts, I could take a sober-up pill and get working, instead of my usual hangover routine of lie in. Check Facebook. Check Iplayer. Sleep. Repeat.

In sum, the synthetic alcohol being developed by scientists across Britain has numerous sociological, economic and more superficial advantages. Therein, we should all encourage the development of these wonder drugs through both intellectual and financial support.

‘No one wants a pill that leaves you only mildly tipsy’

Rebecca Gingell, Maths, Magdalen

A toast to Professor David Nutt and his research team at Imperial College, who this week, revealed an alcohol substitute with none of the health risks. Developed from chemicals related to valium, the new drug would eventually be used to replace the alcohol content in beer, wine and spirits. There would even be an instant ‘sober up’ pill.

In principle, I am very much behind the switch. Most alcohol-induced liver diseases occur in social drinkers, not alcoholics. And when an evening’s ‘social drinking’ exceeds the recommended intake for your entire week, it’s reassuring that efforts are being made to combat the most widespread and fatal addiction in the world.

The substitute would mimic the feeling of relaxation and sociability provided by alcohol, and no matter how much was consumed, the drinker would never get drunk.

But therein lies the rub – who’s actually going to drink this nameless, synthetic alcopop that leaves you no more than mildly tipsy? Not the stilton-loving, port-quaffing, ruddy-faced toffs of any soirée I’ve come across. Picture the scene:’Have you tried the 1988 Chateau Cheval Blanc? I highly recommend it.’ ‘I haven’t, sport – I’m on the diazepam this evening.’ Not quite.

Then there is the other class of drinkers: the students. Drinking is a chief aspect of university life, and even for those who don’t drink, the adventures and misdemeanors of those who do, play a significant part in the university experience. Can a newcomer that leaves the drinker in a ‘pleasant state of mild inebriation’ really keep up? Certainly if the popularity of Cardinals Cocktails, Park End’s quaddy voddies and the 75p ‘boptail’ is anything to go by, the answer is no. When work hard, play hard is the mantra by which most abide religiously, the substitute would be about as well received as a £10 pitcher with just 3 shots of Smirnoff in it.

This isn’t necessarily a fatal obstacle – I’m sure with a little tinkering Professor Nutt could come up with something that leaves you, if not passed out with your head in a toilet, at least ‘drunk’. But then, that would probably never get through the government’s stringent drug approval measures.

The very fact that alcohol can be abused at the drinker’s discretion is what makes it such a crowd pleaser, and whilst this is a depressing realisation, the regimental introduction of a new lifestyle drug to take its place will be very, very difficult.

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EYAkWJ6Sjfs

 

Interview: Margaret Sentamu

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Born and raised in Uganda under the rule of Idi Amin, Margaret Sentamu came to England in 1974 with her husband, John, who was taking up a place at Cambridge University. Since then she has worked in diversity and recruitment and supports numerous charities, including the Mothers Union and Traidcraft plc. In 2005, John was appointed as the 97th Archbishop of York, but even though they now live in a 13th century palace, Margaret certainly has not lost touch with what’s going on in the world. Taking time out of her jam-packed schedule, she told me about her eventful life and her current interests.

Most readers will know of the dictator Idi Amin through the critically-acclaimed film, The Last King of Scotland. However, if you thought its atrocities had been embellished for the sake of the box office, you would be sadly mistaken, as when I asked Margaret what she thought of it, she replied, “I thought it was quite true, quite close to the script as it were.” Forrest Whitaker’s frightening portrayal of him was remarkably real; “when you were with him, he was a very charming man, but obviously the minute you left the room, you could be targeted. He was absolutely ruthless.” Just as Mugabe’s presidency began positively, before going “perilously sour”; so Amin was initially elected by popular vote; by people who “wanted change, but hadn’t bargained for the kind of person they were letting in.” Both dictators had the rest of the world, particularly Britain, fully supporting their rise to power. Only later, Ugandan people and the rest of the world realised they had “unleashed a monster”. The country became a dictatorship after Amin seized full control in a military coup in January 1971, following the same pattern as several past dictators. “History repeats itself again and again…people think, the next leader is bound to be better than the one we have at the moment, so they put the new one in, without having done their homework.”

“You can’t just sit there waiting for bad things to happen”

Obviously, his rule affected Margaret’s day-to-day life; how could it not when “he could just wake up one morning and say, ‘I’m going to ban women from wearing short skirts.'” Almost every single family had experienced his brutality, or knew someone who had “disappeared”. Husbands would be abducted on their way to work; families would be lucky if the body was ever found. Despite this constant uncertainty, Margaret says she did not live in a permanent state of fear. In these situations, the human spirit finds a “survival mechanism” which enables people to carry on as ‘normal’. As she admits, “you can’t just sit there waiting for bad things to happen.”

However, just three weeks after her marriage to John, Margaret was to experience the arbitrary cruelty of Amin’s rule for herself, when her new husband was abducted and imprisoned after being accused of helping a colleague to flee the country. During this time, having no one to trust or talk to apart from her close family, Margaret says that her Christian faith “really kicked in”.

Indeed, the Anglican Church, established a hundred years before, was a constant source of resistance to Idi Amin’s rule and helped many Ugandans to survive the atrocities, due to its emphasis on gathering together, whether in prayer or in support of one another. Margaret believes that it is currently doing the same thing in Zimbabwe, providing comfort as well as quiet resistance. This has not been missed by President Mugabe, who ordered police to lock up churches over Christmas so that members could not congregate within them. This is not the only difficulty that the Church faces, as it has become split between those members who side with the regime and those who oppose it. I asked Margaret if she thought that the succession of corrupt African leaders may be due to the vacuum left by the colonial powers, but she heartily disagrees. “The colonial past is just that, a past, and it ought to be treated as a past.” She cites Ghana as an example of a country that has only had independence for forty odd years, yet is thriving. So, what is the answer? “Africa needs to take responsibility for its own governance.” Despite some notable exceptions, the taste of power seems just too tempting, and without strong democratic safeguards in place, the general rule is: once a president, always a president.

“I don’t think we’re very discerning about who we put on a pedestal”

“Education in developing countries is very important because it opens up opportunities.” Luckily for Margaret, her father, a civil servant, believed in the importance of education for girls, so after school she went on to study Literature in English at Makerere University, Kampala, where she met John. As part of her course, she read a great range of authors, and this was to have interesting results when she came to England. Literature had given her all these ideas, yet though she may have read Wordsworth’s “I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud”, she had never actually seen daffodils. Similarly, she sang hymns such as “In the Bleak Midwinter” in Uganda, yet had no notion of snow. “So suddenly I was in a country where all these things came to life…it was very exciting.”

Apart from being able to put objects to the names, on her arrival Margaret was struck by several other aspects of English life. Particularly shocking was the sight of people sleeping rough; “I don’t want to idealise Uganda, but in the Uganda I left then, the family structure was strong enough to ensure that this did not happen.” Of course, this may not be true now, as the AIDS crisis has left behind a huge number of orphans, who often end up on the streets. She was also so surprised by the number of people living by themselves in England, particularly those spending Christmas in isolation. African communities are with you from birth until death; “Your life is not your own. You’re who you are because of others and the community in which you are raised.” The same could be said of the Church, which was instrumental in helping the Sentamus settle quickly in England. “There is a given that you all belong to the same Christian faith and therefore you are all members of a wider Church family.”

Margaret is very involved with charities and takes a big interest in world affairs. Her main area of passion is women, her great desire is to “help women and children to achieve their potential.” As an equality and diversity consultant, she encourages companies to consider job applicants that they might be tempted to dismiss, whether they be female, disabled or of an ethnic minority. She is also a patron of Five Talents, a micro-finance initiative which gives small loans to women in developing countries to start businesses, 99.9% of which are quickly paid back. Margaret insists, “It is about giving women the opportunity to stand on their own feet.”

When it came to thinking of female role models, Margaret was hard-pressed to think of any current ones, although history seems to be full of them, like “Indira Ghandi, the first female prime minister of India; although she came from the Ghandi dynasty, there was some passion within her, wanting to make change.” Another would be Rosa Parks, an African-American in 1960s USA, whose actions inspired civil rights campaigners when she refused to move seats on a bus for a white person. Margaret admits that she could not have done the same; “I’m a real coward, I would have given in easily!” After this, no one else is forthcoming. As Margaret says, “we roll out people like Mother Teresa, but I’m not holy enough to lead a life of poverty, chastity and obedience!” However, she’d rather people admired Mother Teresa than the latest X-Factor winner, “I don’t think we’re being very discerning about who we put on the pedestal. I do wonder what some people have done apart from appear on ‘I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here!’ Britain’s celebrity culture seems to be more about changing one’s image than helping to make the world a better place.”

“your life is not your own”

The majority of women in the headlines these days seem to be one half of a “power couple”; think of the Sarkozys, the Obamas, the Clintons, the Sentamus? But Margaret sees this relatively new phenomenon as something worth applauding, “Of course you can succeed as a solo player, but increasingly, if you work as a team, you bring something more to the equation. I’m sure Barack Obama would tell you that he wouldn’t be where he is if it wasn’t for Michelle, and she’d say the same of him.” Team work is important in every kind of relationship, but in marriage particularly, “which is about protecting each other’s identity, but also encouraging each other to be able to flourish. You don’t want to be clones of each other!” Margaret wants to open women’s eyes up to how they can be perceived as people in their own right and not simply as someone’s wife. Somehow, I think Margaret may have upset quite a few of these assumptions in her time! But in so doing, she has only increased my conviction in the truth of the phrase, “Behind every great man, is a great woman.”

Drama Briefing

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In an amusing sequel to last term’s Fit Cast, everyone’s favourite thesp Charlie Mulliner became Trinity’s Fit College entry last week, and at the time of writing, she’s winning. But if you weren’t too busy logging on to vote for her you might have noticed a strange movement beneath the surface of the drama community. Everyone’s joining 101.

If you haven’t heard of it already, 101 is Oxford alumna Asia Osborne’s experimental theatre company. Their productions are violent, corrupting and – according to our reviewers – rather brilliant. The latest recruits to the dark side are Isabel Drury and Sarah Perry: rumours abound of the traumatic initiation that awaits them.

For those unwilling to face such perils, Cherwell is offering people the less traumatic chance to write dramatic monologues and dialogues for cherwell.org podcasts this term. The acclaimed David Wolf (Barnaby Rudge) is in charge, so if you’re interested, log on to the OUDS Job Centre to find out more.

Less likely to appear on the Job Centre at this stage, however, are Michaelmas Playhouse bids, as opposing teams do their best to surprise the competition. On our radar are three potential bids so far. OUDS President Roland Singer-Kingsmith, matinee idol James Corrigan and Bloody Chamber director Matthew Monaghan are the interested parties, according to our unreliable sources. Apparently Corrigan has his sights set on staging a film adaptation – but further details are shrouded in mystery.

Equally mysterious is quite what’s happening with the embattled OUDS Edinburgh Tour. Apparently, if you want to direct it, you have until Third Week to apply. If you do, you’ll face stiff competition. Last year it went to West Side Story‘s Alice Hamilton. This year Rafaella Marcus is the odds-on favourite.

Meanwhile, Marcus prepares to play Lady Macbeth in Third Week at the O’Reilly and has already started directing rehearsals of her feminist interpretation of The Odyssey. This seems super keen considering that the performance is next term. Keener still, their posters are already designed. They feature a boat on a wave. Shame. If they’d waited, they would have discovered a certain Fit College entrant in their cast – maybe they should have

just used her?

Review: Far Away

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The tagline for Far Away reads ‘The cats are on one side of the French; the elephants work with the Koreans now’. Confused at all?

You will be, but this does not detract from a powerful production of Caryl Churchill’s chillingly disturbing play. Cassie Barraclough shines as the central character Joan, dealing well with the challenges of playing a child and an adult in quick succession. The onstage chemistry between Barraclough and Jonnie McAloon (as Todd) works well, especially in silent moments. The smiles the two exchange while working in the hat factory light up an otherwise dark and disturbing world, though it would be good to see longer pauses between their lines here to exploit the effectiveness of their quiet companionship.

While not as strong as Barraclough in the opening scene, Annie James (as Harper) came into her own in what promises to be a very atmospheric speech, with a stage effectively lit by candlelight.

In fact, the effects that we were unable to see at the press preview should enhance the production. The simplicity of the set will be improved immeasurably once Barraclough and McAloon have colourful hats to occupy themselves with, and the play will work well in a darkened studio. The traverse staging was unusually successful – visibility was good and the actors’ movements did not seem overly directed. The video footage used for one of the play’s central scenes was less effective – while the idea was good, the execution wasn’t as professional as the rest of the production, but perhaps with further editing and the incorporation of sound effects this section too will be tightened up for the play’s opening night.

Four stars

Far Away is at the BT studio, 26-30 January, 19.30

 

Off, you lendings

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Onstage nudity is coming to Oxford. Good news for those of us who missed Daniel Radcliffe’s performance in Equus, since the same play is on at the OFS in Third Week. But if you’re only going for the novelty of seeing someone take their clothes off on stage, says director Anna Hextall, you’ll be disappointed.
‘The nudity is not important. It is a small component of certain scenes and is by no means the most shocking element. With the right approach, the nudity should not become the prime focus of any scenes in Equus but instead should appropriately reflect the weightier themes of the play.’

This all sounds terribly serious, and many audience members will probably ignore it. Others won’t, and might be put off. Others still, however, will think of Shakespeare’s King Lear, where the tragic hero strips off his clothes – ‘off, you lendings’ – during a storm.

‘The director treads a dangerously thin line between expression and exploitation’

No one remembers Lear for the nakedness alone. Some productions have gone further than others: most notably in recent years when Ian McKellen bared all in the RSC’s 2007 production. Lear is a lasting example of a play which nudity adds to, without dominating.

The Blue Room, a West End play starring a briefly naked Nicole Kidman, lived up to this example. An adaptation of an Austrian script about sexual liaisons and syphilis, it was directed by Academy Award winner Sam Mendes. The media storm beforehand focused almost exclusively on the shock factor. When the play opened, everything changed. The Telegraph called it ‘pure theatrical Viagra’, and Kidman won unprecedented acclaim for her performance.

‘Kidman’s performance in The Blue Room was called “pure theatrical viagra”‘

Not all plays attempting to follow suit have succeeded. I was simply bewildered by a Dublin production of the unusually-titled Woman and Scarecrow. For no apparent reason, the eponymous Woman was naked for almost half the play, revealing a too-obviously painted caesarean scar. The experience was uneasy rather than sleazy, but my overriding feeling was one of confusion.

One rather pities the actors in such situations, and the line between expression and exploitation is often dangerously thin. For the cast and crew of Equus, a focus on trust in rehearsals has paid dividends: they no longer feel uncomfortable with nudity, according to the director.

It would certainly be tough to argue that Radcliffe was exploited when he played the play’s leading role. For him, it was a chance to break away from Harry Potter into serious acting. Paradoxically, it was Potter that most of his fans paid to see.

This paradox is faced by all plays whose most obvious selling point jars with their substance. Radcliffe’s production succeeded because it offered theatregoers more than what they came for. The challenge for Oxford’s Equus will not be to attract audiences, but to surprise them.

What you’ve been missing: Polish art

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It’s been over twenty years since the Berlin Wall crumbled; much subsequent commentary has focussed on the trials and tribulations of Central Europe’s political, economic and social development. But what of the arts? Are artists reacting to the new, wider European context, or do they remain trapped in a Communist-style provincialism? And are the public, museums and the government keeping pace with change?

Certainly the importance travel has had for Polish artists since the end of the Communist era is not going to diminish any time soon – to get themselves recognized Polish artists often go to Germany or Britain to ‘make it’ before being celebrated in Poland.

Part of the reason is that the Polish art scene is massively underfunded. You can count the number of major museums and gallery spaces on one hand. Often lecturers in art colleges were appointed before socialism fell and remain relatively conservative in their artistic outlook. Furthermore, there is a seemingly low level of public and media interest. Reviews of the arts are uncommon, with modern art exhibitions primarily for the artists themselves as opposed to the viewer.

For all these reasons, it is only recently that Polish art has started to gain greater prominence. ‘Polska! Year’ is an initiative developed by Polish and British partners of the Adam Mickiewicz Institute, which has recently showcased works by Polish artists to the British public. The media buzz over Miroslaw Balka’s installation of what looks like a giant shipping container in the Tate Modern’s Turbine Hall has also gone some way in raising the profile of modern Polish art.

Almost inevitably, the war, the Holocaust and forty years of communist oppression have cast long shadows over Polish culture; its visual arts is scene no exception. Works are often provocative, stark and striking. Balka’s ‘How It Is’ (pictured) at the Tate is understated but profoundly resonant. Arguably one of the best commissions for the Turbine Hall to date, we can only hope that it comes to be a turning point for contemporary Polish art.

Review: A Children’s Book

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Before reading The Children’s Book, I knew of A.S. Byatt as the woman who’d said Harry Potter was for ‘people whose imaginative lives are confined to TV cartoons’. Her New York Times article described the Potter books as symptomatic of ‘dumbing down and cultural studies’. I am no ardent Potter fan, and this self-styled preserver of proper literature – the kind that produces ‘a shiver of awe’ – interested me. So when her latest novel was shortlisted for the 2009 Man Booker Prize, it seemed time to find out what all the fuss was about. I’m afraid I still have no idea.

‘Most of its characters spend a long time dormant only occupying brief flurries of narrative zeal’

The concept is great. Spanning 25 years from the fin-de-siècle to the end of WWI, it takes in London and the Kentish countryside with a bit of Paris and bohemian Munich thrown in. The fortunes of several families become entwined, each related to the arts in different ways. Complications ensue. Love, lust and betrayal play out amidst fairy tales and dances in the woods, plus an occasional venture into the labyrinthine storage rooms of the Victoria and Albert Museum. There is poetry, pottery and creepy German puppetry in abundance.

The problem is that the novel itself vanishes in a mire of unnecessary context. Byatt has done meticulous research, as you’d expect of good historical fiction. Yet this doesn’t mean that every note she’s ever made needs to go into the finished text – which, at points in this 600-pager, seems to be her intention.
There are chapter-long chunks of fact irrelevant to the narrative: sometimes the characters struggle to slot in at all. When Hedda, the daughter of airy-fairy children’s author Olive Wellwood, decides to join the Suffragette movement, ‘She followed, eagerly, the campaign of the militants, as they broke glass and set bombs, were imprisoned, and later took to hunger-striking and suffered forcible feeding.’ Poor Hedda is almost forgotten in this sentence, part of a paragraph-long barrage of name- and date-dropping, the only purpose of which seems to be to authenticate the lives of the characters. But it doesn’t; it washes them out.

‘The book is spoiled by a mire of unecessary context’

Critics have enthused over Byatt’s ‘unapologetically intellectual writing’, but it seems to me there isn’t anything very clever about doing loads of research and then patching it together with shallow characters and a sprawling plot. If I wanted this much unadulterated history I would read a history book.

What does remain of the novel is incoherent. Most of its characters spend a long time dormant and then occupy brief flurries of narrative zeal, as they have babies or die or suddenly realize they’re in love with someone else. At times the writing’s just…bad. Olive appears ‘in a flowing sea-coloured shift, with her dark hair flowing’; the factory workers accents come and go. Byatt regularly inserts Olive’s stories as unexplained, stand-alone chapters full of gems like ‘The air felt thick, like jelly setting.’

In terms of excitement, plot coherency and depth of character, any Rowling creation would do better than this book. Its social setting is fascinating, but it doesn’t wear its learning lightly. What could have been a gripping tale ends up a laborious tome.

Fool’s Gold

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It’s hard to take audience participation seriously. When it comes to music, we tend to sing along only at those slightly unfashionable events like the Last Night of the Proms. Or Christmas. Sitting in a theatre, I seldom think that my viewing experience is enhanced by an actor plonking a hat atop my head, or someone smearing porridge on my trouser leg (both of which have happened to me at the BT). Film, well, that’s a bit difficult. Short of making obscene hand gestures in the projector, it’s hard to impose your viewing experience on a piece of film reel.

Such were my thoughts as, upon entering Modern Art Oxford, I was politely shown a collection of gold lamé jumpsuits. I was told they were optional, but I concluded that since most people had collections that day, I was unlikely to bump into anybody I knew while dressed in an outfit best described as a rapper’s condom, so apprehensively I slipped it on.

I needn’t have bothered. Common Task, I soon found out, is simply two rooms, one of which is supposed to resemble a spaceship, while the other houses a couple of gold benches and a video screen. I was scarcely in MAO for twenty minutes. There simply wasn’t enough to warrant the use of the outfits. No matter how much the programme might suggest it – and this exhibition comes with an excellent programme, perhaps better than the exhibition itself – there was nothing in which to immerse oneself. Sat watching a film dressed like an invader from a tacky planet, my overriding feeling was one of embarrassment, especially since people wishing to see the Miroslaw Balka exhibition upstairs kept walking through dressed normally, give or take a few dubious welly choices.

‘I apprehensively slipped on an outfit best described as a rapper’s condom’

Common Task is by Polish artist Pawel Althamer. One enters the exhibition directly. There are few objects in the ‘Antechamber’ (as the minimalist front gallery is described) but those that are there carry little weight. We have a sort of command centre with pretty flat screens. There is a cheap-looking mixing desk that boringly does nothing. The best object is perhaps the only piece in the exhibition resembling traditional sculpture: a sort of tribal-mask-like wooden construction painted in the ubiquitous gold, but fastened together with small strips of animal hide. Clashes of culture, and the surreal visual effect these can produce, are clearly major themes of Common Task and its central video installation. On this, a potent and virile symbol of nature and superstition, the addition of the whimsical space age gold is striking and ironic.
The work is described as a ‘science fiction film in real time’. With this dictum, they refer to the entire project, which has travelled all over the world – to Brussels, Brazil and most recently, Mali – and which continues to travel, to film, to swap clothes with tourists and tribespeople alike. Yet the focus in the exhibition is quite strongly on the video installation, which robbed the show of the sense of ‘real time’ because we were watching a condensed film of the expedition. There was no sense of the project’s ongoing nature. The formal aspects are pretty standard for a contemporary film installation: wobbly camera work, shifting focus, irritating microphone noises and an intrusive use of sounds – bongo drums, aeroplane noises – that tends to overdo the point.

‘My overriding feeling was of embarrassment, as normally-dressed people walked past’

Do not get me wrong, I found quite a bit to admire in the concept behind this project. Through observing this band of Polish neighbours walk through African villages in gold jumpsuits, swapping clothes with natives, we are forced to see simultaneously the limits of our knowledge, how our own planet is alien to us, and conversely how we, the civilised Westerners, must seem pretty ridiculous to those whom Althamer visits. There is a strong sense of comedy in the video which I like, because one is not sure whether it is uncomfortable comedy or not. It plays on our ignorance, our prejudice and our limitations, yet it also asserts our freedom both to travel where we want and dress ourselves in whatever ludicrous outfits we see fit.

Yet an admirable concept does not excuse a pretty poorly curated exhibition, and the uninspiring installations by the artist. If anything, this exhibition should have been bigger, better thought through, presented in a larger gallery reviewing the project. As it is, we are confronted by a surreal entry-hall to the larger Balka exhibition upstairs, looking like twenty-four carat plonkers to unaware passers-by.

two stars

‘Common Task’ is on at Modern Art Oxford until 7th March. Admission is free.

Guilty Pleasures

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Dance Movies. The formula is always reassuringly predictable: guy meets girl; one of them can dance and one of them can’t. The one who can teaches the one who can’t and they fall in love. Strictly Ballroom is no exception.

It is notoriously difficult to get people to watch this film. ‘Is it actually good though?’ they ask wearily as I grind them into submission, ‘or is it just that you like it because it’s a dance movie?’ Ok, it is a film about dancing, yes, it is a love story and granted, it’s unapologetically kitsch (so far, so unappealing) but ‘Strictly Ballroom’ is so more than your average sequin fest. While the plot follows the boy-meets-girl pattern (frustrated dancer Scott takes on the ballroom dancing federation with beginner partner Fran in a bid to dance their own steps competitively) there is a lot more to this film that first meets the eye.

Shot partly as a mockumentary, director Luhrmann explores the surreal scene of competitive ballroom dancing in early nineties Australia. It’s fast moving, luridly bright and undeniably hilarious. The first shot of the film, showing elegantly silhouetted dancers waltzing around the competition floor to the strains of ‘The Blue Danube,’ is violently broken into by a raucous shout from the crowd, ‘Come on number 100!’ The illusion of tranquillity is shattered. This sets the tone for the whole film: the supposed refinement of ballroom dancing is constantly juxtaposed with the average day-to-day lives of the amateur competitors who inhabit the supposedly glamorous world of competitive dance.
This film is that is so real: romantic moments occur in the most unromantic places, such as Scott and Fran’s secret practice above his parents’ dance studio. As the couple become immersed in the dance we forget that they are dancing on top of a shabby looking rooftop in the same shot as a washing line full of socks.

There is a red glimmer light that acts as a backdrop to the unseen performance. When the camera pans back we see it is nothing but a Coca Cola sign. There is magic mixed with the mundane, elegance mixed with eccentricity. At times Luhrmann is mocking the world he is exploring, but it is also desperately sincere. You wouldn’t expect it to be touching and beautiful, but it is.