Saturday, April 26, 2025
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Interview: Jacqui Smith

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I meet Jacqui at the Big Tent Ideas Festival, a day of political debate and discussion with MPs, academics and journalists held in Mudchute in South London. The former Home Secretary was appointed chair of the Jo Cox Foundation in May 2019. As is customary at all political events these days, before entering the venue I have to pass through a thorough security check, where a metal detector is passed up and down me, the contents of my backpack emptied out , each item individually inspected – a reminder of how much effort is now needed just to ensure MPs are able to engage with the public in safety.

Jacqui is speaking at a panel discussion on the abuse facing those in public life, alongside Angela Eagle MP and Lord Jonathan Evans. Among the ideas discussed on the panel was  Eagle’s proposal for an outright ban on all anonymous social media accounts,  given that these are disproportionately responsible for the proliferation of abuse. I ask Jacqui whether that’s something she supports: She seems reticent to endorse a full ban on anonymity.

“There might be circumstances like whistleblowing where anonymity is justified,” the former Home Secretary says. “What is not justified is hiding behind anonymity to commit criminal acts.”

The volume of abuse directed at parliamentarians has ballooned in recent years. Research by Amnesty International on online abuse in 2017 revealed the full extent of the problem. In the period January to June 2017, 8,121 out of 140,057 of all tweets mentioning @HackneyAbbott, the Twitter Handle of Diane Abbott MP were classified as abusive. Women and minority MPs are disproportionately affected: the shadow Home Secretary receives almost half of all abusive tweets directed at women MPs.

Some  rudimentary Twitter research confirms that the problem persists. [mi3] Just in September 2019 I found hundreds of abusive Tweets directed at Diane Abbott, who was called a ‘traitor’ 104 times, ‘fat’ 27 times, ‘ugly’ 20 times, ‘cow’ 18 times, ‘twat’ 18 times, ‘bitch’ 14 times, ‘pig’ 10 times. I also found over 100 tweets in the last 3 days alone calling Diane ‘thick’. It’s quite shocking to see how brazenly people are prepared to issue insults and verbal attacks on their representatives – I’m minded not to quote several full length abusive tweets as Amnesty have done.

But, I ask Jacqui, while social media has given a platform to those who wish to abuse MPs online, what difference would it make to shut them down? The people would still exist, they would still hold and express the same views, only it would be less visible to the rest of us as they go underground.

“It’s not just that social media is what people say face-to-face. Social media radicalises: it develops the attitudes not just facilitates communication.” Smith tells me.

“There is considerable evidence of a growth in intimidation, death threats and abuse. The business model incentivises this – there is a premium for agitation.”

Jacqui tells me the visibility of abusive online messages is causing those who work or want to work in politics to reconsider.

“What shocks me is the way in which verbal and physical abuse is so prominent – I’m really worried about that. I’ve spoken to people who say they want to step down. People who changed their roles because of threats and intimidation. People say it prevents them from coming forward.”

“Everybody has the right to demonstrate and protest – that is a healthy thing but not when it undermines the democratic system. One of the things identified is a view that the democratic system is illegitimate.”

This narrative of an illegitimate democracy was arguably what motivated the murderer of Jo Cox, who is alleged to have shouted “this is for Britain” before carrying out his attack.

The murder, which took place days before the EU referendum, was a great shock to both the country and to the world. This was the first time in over 25 years that a sitting British MP had been killed. I ask Smith whether the murder was a freak occurrence, or evidence of a much wider phenomenon. “What happened to Jo Cox is not a one-off. There has already been a plot to murder Rosie Cooper MP earlier this year which was stopped by the police.” Jacqui refers to the plot by far-right extremist who purchased a sword online and researched how to cut the jugular artery before his plans were thwarted by an informant. Renshaw was sentenced to life in May 2019. It is especially chilling to think that there is a real risk of future attacks.

Does the severity of the risk call for strong legislative change to mitigate the risk of further violence? Smith is clear that the Jo Cox foundation is not in the business of lobbying for changes to the law, or to make party-political points: “We don’t want changes in legislation but rather a joint standard agreed between all parties. The Foundation has three objectives; local communities that are engaged, cohesive and able to contribute to what’s going on; a national politics that is lively but also respectful and developing a fairer world.” A message which I think few can disagree with.

Ten top tips for new freshers

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For many the prospect of starting university is daunting enough prospect without the additional pressure of attending England’s oldest university. This article is not at all exhaustive when it comes to advice I would give Freshers, but a summary of some things that would have been helpful to know before I started.

1) Freshers Week is not the be all or end all

Freshers Week (or few days in Oxford’s case) is thoroughly intense, not just in the sense that you are faced with many new people but also with the fact you are bombarded with so many different things at once. The prospect of calling a new place home, leaving your family and friends behind and starting a new academic challenge can be exciting but also overwhelming. The pressure to make friends instantly is high and you can often feel as though you are not doing enough to fit in. The reality is, a few days are not going to define the friendships you make in the three, four or more years that it takes to graduate. Yes, making friends is a great way of feeling more at home, but the friends you make in Freshers won’t necessarily be the friends you celebrate graduating with. I would take every day of university as an opportunity to meet new people and make new friends, colleges, courses and universities don’t have to be the limit of the friendships you make— there are thousands of people around you. 

2) Imposter Syndrome is common 

Unfortunately, many students don’t think they are worthy enough to be at Oxford and feel like an imposter— hence, imposter syndrome. The reality of this situation is that everyone has had to work hard to be here and you are no different. Interviews and exams are no easy feat and the tutors have chosen you as their pupils, that in itself should tell you that they want you to study here and believe you have the capacity to succeed. The majority of students do struggle with work sometimes and that’s normal. It’s also a sign that you are being challenged; rise to it because you are capable. 

3) First set of work 

For many students, tutors will set work and reading lists after summer. Do as much as you can! If you can’t do something, let your tutors know what you couldn’t finish and ask for help with it. You might be set an essay or problem sheet due for the week after Freshers which could be very daunting. It’s important that you try and complete it, but it by no means has to be the best piece of work you will produce during term. First pieces of work are usually a good opportunity to learn the do’s and don’ts so try your best, but don’t agonise over it. You usually have weekly deadlines so you have plenty of time to produce better work.

4) Buying resources 

There is absolutely no need to purchase lots of books – most college libraries stock multiple copies of common books. Also, a copy of every book on your reading list is usually found at the Bodleian Library, so even though it may seem intimidating, make the most of this space! If there is a book that you want and think will be beneficial for your college, suggest it to the college librarian and they may be able to order it in for you. Speak to your tutors about the ones you will need consistently throughout the year and buy those if you can. Certain colleges have book grants or money set aside for students who need financial support. 

5) Self-care is necessary 

Make sure that you have switched your GP to and Oxford doctor in case you have any medical problems during term. Check with your home GP if you have not got the recommended vaccinations before university. Also, familiarise yourself with where to access mental health advice if you need it; most people need someone to talk to at some point, within or outside of college. Plan your work and leave time in everyday to do something for yourself. You cannot work tirelessly the whole term – you will burn yourself out and be less productive. Some great places to go if you need a break from work and want to be out of colleges are: Oxford University Parks (lots of green space to walk around or go for a jog), Port Meadow (especially in summer, some people swim in the lake), an array of theatres showing student plays and an Oxford favourite— G&Ds (three great ice cream shops in Oxford).

6) The Oxford Jargon

When you arrive there will be a lot of Oxford- specific jargon, here is a list you may need in Freshers: 

  • Battles: your termly bill from college 
  • Pidge: a slot with your name on it where all your mail gets delivered to. Tutors also have them which you can submit your work to, usually via the lodge— you can have essays pidged to other colleges!
  • Sub-Fusc: Oxford academic dress, you will have to buy a gown after Freshers
  • Matriculation: official initiation into the University of Oxford where you become a student. You wear sub-fusc for this occasion. 
  • BOP: Big Organised Party, these are usually college organised parties which surround a theme
  • Crew Dates: usually centred around drinking involving members of different societies coming together to learn more about each other. The game ‘sconces’ is sometimes played which is the Oxford version of ‘Never Have I Ever’. 

7) Things that make your uni experience different 

Formal hall: Each college has the option of sit-down formal dinner where you are served three courses and have the opportunity to dress up. 

Balls: Oxford balls are very extravagant and momentous occasions – you usually have to save-up to go to them but they are the envy of many students from other universities. Some balls have access funds to help anyone struggling with ticket purchase. 

Matriculation: This initiation ceremony is a very quick process that can feel very tense.You are walked from college to the Sheldonian Theatre where the Chancellor of the university speaks in Latin, formally initiating you into the university. You can usually find many students celebrating after by chilling in uni parks still in their sub-fusc. 

8) Don’t feel pigeon-holed as a minority

Being a minority is difficult, whether you identify as Queer, BAME or have a disability. It’s really important that you don’t feel defined by your difference. Just because you are an ethnic minority doesn’t mean that you have to become the authority on all matters to do with ethnic diversity. It is not your job to constantly educate others if you don’t want to. It doesn’t mean that you have to run for BAME Rep on your college JCR Committee just because you are one of the few who can apply. It is daunting trying to break into spaces that do not visibly represent you, but have pride in your skill set and be brave. 

9) Managing your Finances 

It’s crazy seeing 000s in your bank account, but be very cautious how you spend your money. Some colleges set an early deadline for payments of battles so make sure these are paid on time. Food can be expensive so try not to eat out too much, and if you have a first year kitchen— make use of it! Apps such as Monzo have great instant notifications for spending and predict when you will run out of money. They don’t offer a free overdraft so it would be good idea to use a student account bank account to get your funds transferred into and use Monzo for you weekly/monthly budget so you consistently keep track of your money. You could also withdraw in cash your weekly budget and physically keep track of your spending. If you feel like just using your student account, try and get online or mobile banking so you can check your balance and transactions regularly. Make sure to ask you college for financial help if you need it: your education is a priority and you shouldn’t feel unable to do your academic work due to financial pressures. It’s also a great idea to access travel grants to fund trips, which saves you a lot of money. If you are struggling to pay for a laptop or tablet to help with your work, speak to your college’s academic office as they often have funds to help students with this.

10) Pressure 

University could be the first time you are exposed to many things e.g. alcohol. Many activities during Freshers seem to be focussed around drinking and it can be hard to see the others in between. If you want to drink, that’s entirely your choice and there are lots of options. If you don’t, many societies run events during Freshers and first week and many colleges provide a night-in as well. It’s common to hear that university is going to be the best years of your life, but they can only be so if you spend that time pursuing the things which you are genuinely interested in and if that means breaking away from the crowd— to it.

London Fashion Week Highlights

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This year the opportunity arose for me to attend the shows and presentations of some of London Fashion Week’s more independent and up-and-coming designers. Amongst the wealth of talent showcased this year, I noticed a vaguely discernible division of many of the brands I saw into two broadly perceptible aesthetic groups: on one side the streamlined, elegant, pastel-paletted workwear-esque delights of designers such as Shopyte (my personal favourite), Riona Treacy, Wen Pan, and Isabel Manns, and on the other the edgier (for lack of a better word), darker, more youthful, grittier, street wear-esque creations of the likes of Underage and Polish designer Pat Guzik. Perhaps this polarisation was as not as strongly pronounced outside of this small collection of designers, but the contrast of sartorial moods produced a refreshing interplay of light and dark from one show to the next, in what can feel like a very long week in the fashion calendar.

All photos taken by Georgia Corrigan at the London Fashion Week 2019

‘Aim for Oxford’ access programme launched

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Applications have opened for a new, free two year programme run by St Anne’s and Christ Church which aims to increase the number of successful applicants to Oxford from state schools in the North East of England. 

The Aim for Oxford programme is open to pupils beginning Sixth Form. Up to 40 students will be selected based on educational achievement and social and educational disadvantage. 

The Year 12 program includes 1-to-1 meetings with selected participants to impart personalized academic feedback, information about higher education, an independent research project and a 4-night summer school. 

An Oxford University spokesperson said; “This ambitious and exciting new initiative will provide talented students from the North East with insights and the best possible support so that they can aim for Oxford. Through this new consortium approach we want to ensure that students from different backgrounds and regions are welcomed and feel at home in Oxford.

“This programme will help to support students in the North East to feel Oxford is for them, and will hopefully encourage more academically talented students from this region to study at the University.” 

Students who go on to make applications to Oxford in Year 13 will then be able to access interview preparation, an academic support allowance and a two night transition visit for each offer-holder. 

A statement from Christ Church said: “The North East of England is the most under-represented region at Oxford, and we believe deeply that diversity is essential to the flourishing of a lively academic community and to Oxford’s future as a hub of social mobility and intellectual exchange. Geographical diversity is something Oxford needs to continue to work on and we are excited to be part of that through Aim for Oxford.” 

Jennifer Yee, Christ Church’s Tutor for Admissions, added: “We hope will make a real difference for bright students from the area who might otherwise feel that Oxford is not for ‘people like them’. Studying here can be a truly transformational experience and it should be accessible for young people who are bright, committed and ambitious from every part of the country.”

Successful applicants from the first group of Aim to Oxford students will begin studying at Oxford in October 2021. 

100% That Bitch

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It was May Day afternoon when I clicked play on the movie ‘Someone Great’ on Netflix. It had come out a few days ago, but I’d been waiting for a day exactly like this one to watch it. The night before had been messy— to say the least— and I’d spent way too long at Fever, drinking way too many VKs. Sunlight was streaming through my windows by the time I’d finally climbed into bed after watching the choir at Magdalen Bridge. I needed something light and fluffy to nurse my hangover from the night before, and delay getting out of bed for a few more hours. The film, written by music journalist Jennifer Kaytin Robinson and based on her own experiences, turned out to be just what I needed. Not just because of the story itself, which ended up being much more emotionally poignant than has come to be expected from the average Netflix rom-com, but because of the soundtrack that accompanied it. More specifically, the breakup song Gina Rodriguez and DuWanda Wise passionately rap the lyrics to in the now-viral scene near the beginning of the movie. The song perfectly fit Rodriguez’ characters’ response to the breakup she was going through: it was bitter and angry and the singer was clearly upset, but she also knew her own worth, and there was a humorous touch to the memorable lyrics that allowed for an optimistic, empowering outlook on the situation. It really struck a chord with me, and as soon as I finished the movie, I googled the song: it was ‘Truth Hurts’, by Lizzo, an artist that I’d heard of in passing, but never really taken the time to listen to in too much depth. The rest of the day was spent with the song playing on repeat as I went about my day— I checked my last.fm profile out of curiosity, and discovered that I had in fact listened to it twenty-seven times. 

It turns out I wasn’t the only person the song resonated with. Just two weeks later, the song entered the Billboard Hot 100 at number fifty, only to snowball in popularity as the song became a popular Tik Tok meme, received increasing radio play, with a live performance at the 2019 VMAs cementing its current position as the number one song in the US, and the thirtieth most popular in the UK. According to last.fm, I have now listened to the song on Spotify over fifty times (my second most played song of all time), and I’m still not bored of it. When it comes to a song that’s as high energy and emotional as Truth Hurts, without taking itself too seriously, it’s no surprise that it blew up.

Listening back through Lizzo’s catalogue, it sounds like she should have been a hit-making sensation for at least three years. While ‘Good as Hell’, the song that introduced her to the world, is an upbeat anthem celebrating self-love and self-confidence, her talent and charisma is evident from the tracks she started self-releasing back in 2014. Her major-label debut ‘Cuz I Love You’, released earlier this year, is an eclectic collection of genre-bending tunes ranging from the raw and soulful ‘Jerome’ to the early-2000s hip hop infused ‘Tempo’ featuring Missy Elliot to the Aretha Franklin-inspired ‘Heaven Helped Me’, capped off with a flawless flute interlude. The album is an absolute joy to listen to from start to finish. Despite ‘Truth Hurts’ being a completely unexpected hit (it was first released two years ago to very little recognition), however, the song is, in my opinion, Lizzo at her absolute best. While other self-empowerment anthems in the same vein employ tired imagery and clichéd rhyme patterns (if I have to hear one more pop song rhyming “motion” with “ocean” I swear I’m giving up on the genre entirely), Truth Hurts employs details as specific as flirting with someone from the “Minnesota Vikings” while still coming across as relatable. The song, with its sheer energy and intense delivery, continues to captivate me with each and every play.

With the current pop music landscape largely dominated by lowkey, often melancholic trap-infused sounds, the sheer personality Lizzo exudes in her tracks constitutes a welcome breath of fresh air. I for one, can’t wait to see where her career goes next.

Prometheus Unbound – An ancient tragedy in open air performance

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A magical thing about ancient plays is how they break down temporal barricades surrounding us. We are teleported to a sanctuary, protected from the passage of time, from which we witness a story through the same eyes as the ancients. The actors’ voices we hear bouncing around the theatre steps could easily be the echoes of the original cast, ringing from the past and transcending eras. In that moment – an 85 minute-or-so-long moment – there is no difference between us and every generation stretching back to antiquity. Unified in this theatrical dimension, we share the same laughter, heart-wrenching pity, gasps, bittersweet tears and awe.

My August was idyllically spent in the Greek city of Thessaloniki for a summer course. As a student of Modern Greek seeking cultural immersion, upon hearing about a local summer theatre festival I unhesitatingly booked tickets. I settled on ΔΗ.ΠΕ.ΘΕ. Πάτρας’s production ofAeschylus’ timelessly exalted tragedy Prometheus Bound, somewhat dauntingly performed in Modern Greek. Having studied the language for a year, I was excited for this irresistible opportunity to test the limits of my listening ability. However, it is not renowned for being an easy language, hence the phrase “it’s all Greek to me”. Its vast array of synonyms, algebraic grammar and topsy-turvy alphabet (“ρ” counterintuitively makes an “r” sound) mean that fluency is still a distant ambition.

Arriving at the entrance out of breath as the result of a feta-fuelled run from a nearby taverna, I inhale my surroundings. The lantern-lit path to the open-air Forest Theatre (Θέατρο Δάσους), as the name suggests, winds through a shadowy hill-top forest. In the centre stands the 20th century concrete theatre construction, emblematic of the ancient model. The chattering audience, perched on flights of stairs, surround the semi-circle stage like the age-defining rings of a tree. My journey had involved a steep, bumpy ride up to the charming old town – the only surviving part of Thessaloniki that did not perish in the Great Fire of 1917. The lanterns dim, the starry, olive-black sky intensifies. The performance begins.

Prometheus, a Titan, is guilty of stealing fire from the gods and gifting it to mankind for their survival. As punishment, he is chained to a mountain and put on trial. Throughout, he endures tortures, shrilly laments his fate, and receives visitors including the mortal Io, a former lover of Zeus who has lost all grasp of sanity. Prometheus clings onto one consolation: only he holds knowledge of the fate that threatens to overhaul Zeus’ tyranny.

For a modern audience, Prometheus Bound isan incredibly difficult play to grasp: not only is Aeschylus’ text weighed down by its grave symbolism, it also references a plethora of background myths that are meaningless to us. Fortunately, this performance breathed a fresh, modern dynamic to an otherwise static play. Characters were split up over multiple actors ordressed in a way antithetical to their character; appearing as a jester was the personification of Strength and Violence. Often the tableau seemed more like a carnival than a solemn tragedy; yet precisely this ‘strangeness’ and contrast divested the play of its anachronisms. 

Without an interval, our eyes – much like Prometheus – were bound to the stage. This refusal to fragment the performance allowed immersive and unbroken continuity, anchoring us to the land of deities. I found myself leaning forward in my seat, as though those 20cm closer to the stage would give me any more leverage for understanding the lines. In an epoch where human achievement seems limitless, this journey back to a mythical past reminds us of the limits of our omnipotence, just as Prometheus reminds us of the need for basic compassion over authority. My mouth went dry – my jaw had unconsciously dropped in awe – leaving a sweet red wine residue of that evening’s carafe.

Rather than the language barrier detracting from the overall theatrical experience, I was contentedly surprised to find that it enriched it. When it comes to the latest opera, it is not only Italian speakers who flock to the box office. In the past, I have craned my neck to see the subtitles for a maximum of ten minutes before declaring the angle too obtuse to warrant bothering. This sacrifice has never compromised the beauty of the overall opera piece, as meaning is transmitted through lung-bursting melody. Similarly, during Prometheus BoundI was forced to embrace the entire sensory experience. The voices, though mere speech, to the untuned ear morphed into musical compositions through which emotions were channeled; my attention on the curvature of their bodies could not waver; in this way, a non-verbal meaning could be found.

At times, my hairs stood on end. For all I knew, Dionysus the ancient Greek god of theatre could have been purring down my neck – he too was marveling the performance.

Killer Queers

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Is it an indictment of where we are in 2019 that the past was the big winner at the 76th Venice International Film Festival?  

Whether it was Todd Phillips’ 1980s-set Joker, the World War II epic The Painted Bird, or Roman Polanski’s controversially included An Officer and a Spy, the silver screens of Venice were plastered with images of both factual and imagined histories this year. The winner of this year’s ‘Queer Lion’ – Venice’s award to the top LGBTQ+ film – is no exception. Sebastián Muñoz’s prison drama The Prince is set in early 1970s Chile and taps into a rich history of queer killers on screen. Perhaps less obvious or pervasive than other movie stereotypes (the effeminate and impotent gay best friend, the hypersexualised lesbian, etc.), the psychopathic LGBTQ+ maniac was a Hollywood trope which appeared frequently in the 1980s and 90s. Films like Cruising (1980), Windows (1980), The Silence of the Lambs (1991) and Basic Instinct (1992), all feature characters whose sexuality goes hand in hand with a murderous streak.

                Connections between queerness and pure evil predate any of these films, however. In The Homosexual Villain, written in 1954, writer Norman Mailer acknowledged that in his early novels, he often established an ‘intrinsic relation between homosexuality and evil’. For Mailer though, the relationship between the two had more to do with narrative convenience than morality: homosexuality functioned as a kind of shorthand, an invaluable tool to simplify motivation, a signifier of deviousness which readers would immediately recognise. Screenwriters and filmmakers have even less time than novelists when it comes to creating evil characters – the time constraints of a feature film dictate that their villains are instantly recognisable. Writing for The New York Times in 1992 (the year in which no less than three of the five nominees for Best Picture featured LGBTQ+ villains), American writer John Weir identified Hollywood’s bad habit: ‘since the death of Communism, homosexual villains are fast gaining on drug dealers and investors from Japan as the new bad guys’. In the same way that it had once been safe to assume that characters with foreign accents were hiding malevolent motives, the same is now true for gays and lesbians.

Set in the gay leather bar scene of 1970s New York, William Friedkin’s film Cruising uses this backdrop to denote not just sleaze, but sin. Al Pacino plays the young cop Steve Burns, who goes undercover as bait to attract a serial killer targeting gay men within this leather community, but quickly realises that his time spent sniffing poppers and go-go dancing is having an undesired effect. Steve is shown at the start of the film having very vanilla sex with his girlfriend Nancy, as classical music plays softly in the background, but after prolonged exposure to the leather scene, Steve’s coital thrusts become more forceful, and the classical music is replaced by the sound of pounding club music in his head. He is increasingly apathetic towards Nancy, something she notices and complains about, only for Steve to reply, “What I’m doing, it’s affecting me.” Friedkin makes it easy for the audience to piece the puzzle together – as he goes deeper undercover and prolongs his exposure to the debauched underbelly of fetish clubs, Steve’s heterosexuality diminishes.

This implication on its own is enough to make Cruising a violently offensive film. What really angered the gay community, however, was the film’s suggestion that there are multiple killers, encouraging the idea that the gay lifestyle depicted onscreen was inherently violent, and that the series of murders are a natural consequence of depraved sexual behaviour. During the first murder, images of gay pornography flicker as the victim is stabbed repeatedly in the back, explicitly linking gay sex with the penetration of the knife. As a piece of cinematic symbolism, it’s not exactly subtle.

Gay audiences were naturally appalled, forcing Friedkin to include a disclaimer in the opening credits: “This film is not intended as an indictment of the homosexual world. It is set in one small segment of that world, which is not meant to be representative of the whole.” Gay activists, such as Vito Russo, were quick to point out that this disclaimer was effectively an “admission of guilt” from Friedkin. The director knew full well, they asserted, how the film would be interpreted by naturally conservative audiences, and their fear was that it would fan the flames of anti-gay violence. These fears were rapidly proven justified: Ron Nyswaner, who ironically would later write the screenplay for Philadelphia, one of Hollywood’s most sensitive depictions of LGBTQ+ people, narrowly escaped getting beaten up by a group of college students, one of whom shouted at Nyswaner and his boyfriend, “If you saw the movie Cruising, you know what you deserve.”

                If one thing unites Hollywood’s psychotic queer killers, it is their voracious sexual appetite, an absolute requirement for the stereotype. In the erotic thriller Windows, released the same year as Cruising, Andrea forces Emily to take off her top whilst holding a knife to her throat. In Basic Instinct, Sharon Stone’s character is defined almost exclusively in terms of her sexual prowess, and performatively kisses a woman in front of Michael Douglas. The gay conspirators in Oliver Stone’s JFK engage in a sadomasochist orgy in one scene. For LGBTQ+ audiences experienced in the art of forensically analysing every film for the faintest reflection of themselves, the message from Hollywood was loud and clear: the only way in which we will acknowledge that you exist is by representing you as bloodthirsty, sexually insatiable monsters.

Largely, these monsters are now consigned to the past. Today, LGBTQ+ audiences have films like Love, Simon (2018), as well as various Netflix shows aimed at a younger demographic without the prejudices of previous generations, to confirm the validity of their experiences. Pitched firmly at a mainstream audience, Love, Simon is the polar opposite to the erotic thrillers of the previous century. In his review of the film, The Guardian’s Benjamin Lee praised the film as a ‘breakthrough moment for mainstream representation of same-sex romance’, which is undoubtedly true. To have a gay teenager as the protagonist of a major studio film would have been unthinkable up until shockingly recently. Yet I wonder whether LGBTQ+ cinema, having fought so long and hard for the license to be conventional, risks overprioritizing broad appeal. Occasionally, like Al Pacino in Cruising, you need to hear club music in your head rather than chamber music. The homicidal gays and lesbians of yesteryear are of course grotesque caricatures in one sense, but is the inoffensive blandness of Love, Simon really the preferred alternative? Whereas once queer characters were only allowed onscreen as villains, we are now free to be the good guys for a change. Yet everyone knows it’s always more fun to be the villain, especially if we’re in control of the screenplays for a change. For me, queer killers are due a comeback – surely it is better to reclaim this particular stereotype, rather than let it haunt us from the depths of history.

Antony Gormley at the RA

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A new-born baby is lying naked on the ground in the crisp September air. Some stride nonchalantly past her, while others stop and instinctively stroke her smooth body, as though trying to shield her from the elements. Iron Baby is a sculpture of Antony Gormley’s daughter, Paloma, captured at six days old. She is the mesmerising introduction to Gormley’s solo exhibition, now showing at the Royal Academy.

Best known for The Angel of the North, the iconic giant steel sculpture in Gateshead, Gormley is one of Britain’s most loved – and recognisable – artists. Offering a number of attention-grabbing, big statement pieces, this exhibition is vibrant and pulsating. Much of the most exciting work is immersive, including Matrix III, comprising six tonnes of steel mesh hanging hypnotically like a menacing storm cloud above one’s head. This is followed by a gallery choked by four and a half miles of aluminium tubing which swirls around the room, pushing energetically against the walls and ceiling. The visitor is encouraged to clamber through this metal web, and touch the cool, hard surfaces, which resemble a 3D scribble. It is disturbing yet exciting, chaotic yet ordered. Perhaps the most dramatic piece in the exhibition is the gargantuan body that one can wrestle through, in pitch darkness, made from 100 tonnes of sheet steel. It feels unnerving, even intimidating but the sheer scale of the installation is astonishing. Gormley pulls off incredible feats of engineering.

In another room, Gormley’s familiar life-casts project from the floor, walls and ceilings, seemingly defying the laws of gravity. Their inscrutable, impenetrable faces still have the power to haunt. More spellbinding is Subject II, the single figure made from inter-crossed steel bars. Its bowed head suggests a human vulnerability equal to that of the infant exposed on the cobbles outside. This figure embodies the theme of the show: man is no more than a speck in Nature.

The most extraordinary exhibit is the room whose floor is submerged in salt-water and earth. Entitled Host, the cold sea air rising from the water is forbidding, yet its perfect, reflective surface is strangely inviting. Indeed, one hapless visitor waded straight into the water, mistaking it for a perfectly polished floor. Described by Gormley as “the world yet to be acted on”, it pertinently reminds the visitor of the catastrophe of climate change. Though first exhibited in Beijing, this is the first time it has been seen in this country. It encourages a moment of quiet contemplation, after the commotion of some of the earlier exhibits.

This a curious exhibition that merges abstract and figurative work, huge showstoppers with intimate pieces, including Gormley’s exquisite personal notebooks. The lack of colour makes it feel bleak at times and the huge variety of work gives the exhibition a slightly breathless feel, but it is well worth a visit. Even if only to give that baby some much needed warmth as the nights draw in.

The BNP Paribas AccessArt25 programme is also offering 3000 young people, aged 17 to 25, free access over the course of three specially-curated evening: Monday 14 October, Monday 18 November and Monday 25 November, 6.30-9.30pm.

Featured Image: Clearing V, 2009. Approximately 11 km of 12.7 mm aluminium tube. Installation view, Kunsthaus Bregenz, Austria © the Artist. Photo: Markus Tretter

Jungle Fever: Back to Apocalypse Now

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Very few films are as rewatchable as Apocalypse Now. Francis Ford Coppola’s tale of Martin Sheen’s Captain Willard travelling upriver and through war-torn Vietnam, to assassinate Marlon Brando’s once promising but now “completely insane” Colonel Kurtz, is surely one of the most memorable films ever made. If you’ve seen it, you might recall the hazy emergence of a face-painted, lightning-illuminated Martin Sheen from a dank jungle swamp. You’ll probably remember an elephantine, gibberish-muttering Marlon Brando brooding in the shadows of his temple-ruins. And who could forget (and yes, I cringed as I wrote that, but how else to put it?) the guiltily exhilarating, Ride of the Valkyries sound-tracked helicopter raid on a helpless Vietnamese village?

But do you remember Harrison Ford’s coughing, awkwardly punctuating his confessional revealing of Willard’s outrageous mission? What about the gloriously mish-mashed nonsense Dennis Hopper’s indoctrinated photojournalist spouts manically? How about the airlifted cows?

OK OK, enough with the details (and, please, enough with the lists and rhetorical questions). If you haven’t seen it, you’re probably still asking what it’s actually about.

Well, it’s difficult to say. But stop the eye-rolling, I’ll try.

It’s about obsession, for one thing. The narrative through-line of finding Colonel Kurtz is less backbone and more shattered ribcage, barely holding together Coppola’s boundlessly ambitious fictive energy, which supercharges every mammoth set-piece. But while these gargantuan, operatic sequences (hotel room, helicopters, temple etc.) burn into the viewer’s mind, they merely pass in and out of Willard’s peripheral vision. Finding Brando is the narrative cornerstone in a story that occasionally risks falling into the fractured state of Willard’s own mind.

So, what’s the big deal with Kurtz? Well, “it wasn’t just insanity and murder”. We only need Robert Duvall’s Colonel “I love the smell of napalm in the morning” Kilgore to show us that in this film these attributes are more than occupational hazards, and can be badges of honour. Kurtz has to mean more. If Willard- obsessive, tortured, made brutal by the brutality around him- is the logical extension of the American solider in this most traumatic of American wars, then perhaps Kurtz is supposed to embody the wider conflict itself. Idealising brutality and ruthlessness, he’s (pseudo)profoundly self-righteous with a barely repressed burden of guilt.

Still, I’m only theorising. I don’t know what the film ‘means’. I don’t actually know if the film itself knows its own ‘meaning’. But then this thematic uncertainty and indeed narrative contingency is entirely representative of the essence of the Vietnam War itself. In a very non-Hollywood way, the film represents an attempt to deal with the haze and confusion, the consummate otherness but also durable sympathetic humanity, of even recent history. Indeed, that noble ambition is reason enough for you to make a first, or return, trip up the river.

It: Chapter Two Review

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The much-anticipated sequel to IT (2017) finally saw its cinematic release last weekend as the all-grown-up Losers’ Club return home to take on Pennywise for a final showdown. Fans of the first installment might want to start cherishing those childhood memories because, while not a resounding disappointment, CHAPTER 2 does not reach the stellar heights set by its predecessor. Having made a pact at the end of the last film to return to their hometown of Derry if, and when, the nightmarish clown of their youth awakes to wreak its typical violent havoc once again, the gang (played by an ensemble cast that includes James McAvoy, Jessica Chastain, and Bill Hader) is forced to relive their forgotten collective terrors in an effort to finally put a stop to Pennywise once and for all.

However, despite a fantastically manic performance from Bill Skarsgård, the eponymous It fails to live up to form this time round. Much as the Losers’ Club are unable to escape their own childhood traumas, IT: CHAPTER TWO finds itself, for the most part, trapped in a singular, highly static, mode of horror for the entirety of the film that is more the fault of the film’s screenplay than its direction.

Relying heavily on jump scares in an extremely regularised form, IT CHAPTER: 2 finds it impossible to build tension for much longer than a single scene before it quickly dissipates, soon leading to an overwhelming sense of fatigue with the film’s horror elements.

Most egregiously, this manifests in one drawn out segment (clocking in at nearly forty minutes) in which each member of the group must return to and re-confront their own site of childhood terror. Rather than diversify this section of the film with a mixture of storytelling devices – potentially allowing for a greater exploration of this salient theme of unresolved trauma – the film regurgitates the same scene five times over without narrative consequence.

The ubiquity of this basic structure is a shame, given the creativity of the film’s visual horror. Screenplay choices needlessly dictate that Pennywise’s ability to take on endless forms works to the film’s disadvantage; more controlled writing would and should have reined it in rather than allowing what would otherwise have been very effective and imaginative visuals to become less and less impressive with every new manifestation.

It is, however, a testament to the film’s strengths that it remained an entertaining and watchable ride throughout. While IT: CHAPTER 2 could undoubtedly have done with some brutal editing down, its repetitiveness didn’t leave this film feeling particularly drawn-out. Despite a 170 minute run time, I never once felt compelled to check my watch.

This is mostly on account of some fantastic work by Chastain (on form as ever) and Hader. There’s something unbeatable about the group chemistry of the baby-faced cast of the first film but IT: CHAPTER 2’s ensemble certainly gives them a run for their money.

Given the inherent tension between a group of adult protagonists and the film’s axiomatic “friendship is magic” spiel, it’s remarkable how successfully the actors work to pull the film back off the cliffedge of schmaltz.

Fans of the first film shouldn’t despair. IT: CHAPTER 2 was disappointing, but disappointment is mostly the fault of raised expectations. The film is otherwise fun enough to warrant lowering those expectations and heading to the cinema for the story’s conclusion