Blog Page 953

My town and my gown: from the Land of Green Ginger to the Broad

Molly Greenwood
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My town and my gown: from the Land of Green Ginger to the Broad

You will know about Hull for one of two reasons. Either you’ve always heard it to be a depressing blot on the map that contains nothing and no-one of note, or because it has become this year’s UK City of Culture (I have no idea what that means either). Those who have not heard of Hull are likely also to be caught saying things such as, “anything above the Thames is north to me”, whilst drinking their fifth glass of Bollinger.

I imagine the general consensus is that, of all the places on this great, green Earth, the two most violent opposites are Hull and Oxford. The north-south divide goes a long way to ensure this contrast, but, in reality, the two cities aren’t all so different.

Hull is really beautiful. Yes, I know what you’re thinking – but I’m not even joking. If you look past the almost iridescent shade of brown which constitutes the Humber, what you’ll find is an old town that could rival even Oxford. Sadly, the vast majority of Hull’s beautiful old architecture fell victim to the Blitz, but what remains in the Old Town are little pubs dating back to 1550, winding alleys of cobblestones, working men’s clubs, and, weirdly, Britain’s smallest window.

At the bottom of Whitefriargate (up here we say, “Whayte-fra-gerte”), you will find one such winding alley of cobblestones. Its name: Land of Green Ginger. Why? Quite literally no-one knows, but it is good fun. Not far from the Land of Green Ginger is the house of one of history’s most significant figures, William Wilberforce, who led the fight against the slave trade. It is true, Hull has seen fewer titans emerge than Oxford has, but thank goodness we don’t have to keep apologising for the antics of 27 Prime Ministers.

If there is a difference between Hull and Oxford, then I think it may well be our sense of pride. Even though I have been in town only fleetingly during the vacs, I can still feel a sense of pride in Hull, especially after we won the title ‘City of Culture’. It exists in the air, and with the people who live in the city. It comes from all the times that the people of Hull have had to stick together in the face of adversity: our men in the trenches, the Blitz spirit, the trawler men lost at sea, and now as an industrial Northern town past its days of peak economic utility. Despite anything that has come against Hull, it has pulled through with a sense of community. Can’t kill a cockroach, chortles the bloke with the Bollinger from earlier. To him I say, come tell that to all of us.

Guys, I’ve got a text! – Love Island comes to a close

Alice Robinson
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Guys, I’ve got a text! – Love Island comes to a close

After 43 episodes and hours of viewing, season 3 of Love Island has, tragically, come to an end. What a rollercoaster it has been. Having initially begun watching the first episode as merely a post-Park End accompaniment to cheesy chips and garlic sauce, Love Island has mysteriously, inexplicably, become my must-see TV. The beauty of Kem and Chris’ bromance, Gabby’s ever-changing hairstyles, why Camilla insists on talking ever… so… slowly; all these issues have become daily conversations with my friends, acquaintances – even my mum has an opinion.

Now my dad and I have had many long battles regarding so-called ‘trash TV’, and Love Island is just about the trashiest of trashy (beaten by Naked Attraction). He and my brother claim this kind of show is a waste of time, a show about boring stupid people for boring stupid people, and by watching it I have put myself firmly in that category. This article, therefore, is serving both as a series review, and as a justification for all the secret Love Island fans out there. And don’t worry – before you think it’s all getting too serious, I’ve also included the top 5 Love Island 2017 moments down at the bottom. If you can’t be bothered with analysis, just scroll down.

Love Island is so not my type on paper. Whilst I love RuPaul, ANTM, Dating in the Dark, and Cupcake Wars (trust me, it’s amazing), I’ve never really been one for these kind of ‘social experiments’, essentially involving watching a group of people living normally… but for the fact that literally everything is filmed. The sex scenes still make me cringe, I’m not going to lie. But I’ve been drawn in by the relatability of the show. It’s like watching a post-A level Malia trip – a group of ‘lads’ and ‘gals’ are forced together by staying in the same hotel and eventually couple off. But with rather more attractive participants, and without excessive amounts of drink or drugs. In fact, the lack of alcohol in the villa is one of the things that makes this show great, elevating it above the vomit-fuelled excess of Geordie Shore. There are no doubts about consent (thank god), and no ugly drunken arguments. It lessens the feeling of exploitation sizeably when all the contestants are kept sober and get to live for weeks in a Mallorcan paradise with other very fit people.

The contestants themselves, of course, are much of the reason why this season is so watchable. Although naturally most have suffered some sort of backlash on social media at some point in the show, the length and quantity of episodes have meant that Montana, Chris, Kem, and Olivia have become intimate best friends rather than distanced subjects of snobby ridicule. The most successful people on the show, ironically, have defined themselves as individuals as well as as a couple. Being merely the other half of someone can only get you so far (spoilers – as seen by Alex’s departure from the house with Montana just last weekend), and isn’t that a good lesson in life? That you need to become your own person rather than merely a part of a pair?

However, we can’t ignore the aim of the game – love. And although some of the challenges are frankly ridiculous, and the idea of being forced to sleep in the same bed as a person you just met because they fancy you is like a heteronormative dystopian nightmare, there have been a wealth of adorable moments this series. Everyone can take tips from the various ways people have confessed their love for each other. Do you prefer a romantic treasure hunt, using your friends’ bodies to spell out ‘I <3 U’, listing the ten things you love the most about them, or simply whispering it to them in the middle of the night? The show doesn’t only spark debate about the role and time for sex in a relationship; it has also brought back the grand, if slightly cringey, emotional gesture. It’s the 21st century equivalent of John Cusack and his boombox or Heath Ledger dancing through the bleachers. Talking of which, Love Island’s soundtrack is banging. Genuinely, there are such great songs on that playlist.

Finally, as with Mel and Sue and the Great British Bake Off (RIP), it is the host that really brings this show together. No, not Caroline Flack. The voiceover guy, aka Scottish comedian Iain Stirling. Managing to combine a genuine enthusiasm for the show with constant ironic comments about how incredibly staged the show is, only he could make challenges like ‘Sausage Party’ or Smoothie Challenge anywhere near acceptable for viewing.

If all this careful and thoughtful analysis has so far not convinced you of the worthiness of this series, finally, I offer up this run-down of the official Cherwell Top Five Love Island moments of the season. It’ll be 100% your type on paper.

Top Five Moments

5. The Feminism-Meninism Row – If only Camilla had stayed away from Johnny from then on this would have made it so much higher in the list. Still, however, worthy of number 5.

4. ‘Muggy Mike’ – So. Many. Memes.

3. Jason StayThumb – Enough said.

2. Little Bit Leave It – ft. Blazin’ Squad’s Marcel, Kem and a single line from Chris.

  1. Cash Hughes – Everything about this was perfect. The name. Chris crying over the plastic doll whilst Liv looked on in shocked scorn. Chris muttering angrily about other couples’ failure to properly protect their plastic children from sun burn. The fact that Cash Hughes now has his own Twitter. All of it.

Homeless threatened with £2.5k fines by council

Henry Straughan
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Homeless threatened with £2.5k fines by council

Notices have been attached to piles of bags belonging to the homeless community in Oxford city centre, requiring the removal of “obstruction on any pavement […] that may constitute a hazard.”

Abandoned bags pose a hazard by blocking fire exits, according to Oxford’s Labour-run city council. The notices said prosecutions could follow if the bags were not removed.

Neo, a member of Oxford’s homeless community and a singer and songwriter said he had his possessions confiscated by the council and he now carries his possessions around in a trolley. Adding that: “Most of the stuff which was taken was stuff that the public donated… it’s a shame.”

Green Party councillor David Thomas said: “This move by the council is totally outrageous. There’s a perfectly good homeless hostel [Lucy Faithfull House] in the city centre that the council refuses to re-open, instead forcing men and women to sleep rough and keep their belongings safe the best way they can.”

Lucy Faithfull House shut in January 2016 after Oxfordshire County Council withdrew its annual £500,000 funding, after providing shelter to those with complex needs or substance misuse issues for 30 years. 

Thomas continued: “This is not the first time the council has used anti-social legislation to intimidate the homeless, but threatening them with fines and a criminal record for having nowhere else to sleep is a new low.”

The fines come as another blow to Oxford’s homeless community. Two homeless shelters Simon House, located on Paradise Street in Oxford, and Julian Housing, based in Oxford and Abingdon, are set to be decommissioned by April 2018.

The closures follow a £1.5m funding cut by the county council for homelessness services despite the growing number of individuals sleeping rough in Oxford.

BBC’s shameful pay gap and the need for quality

Jordan Bernstein
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BBC’s shameful pay gap and the need for quality

One of Aaron Sorkin’s most underrated screenplay triumphs has been his three-season drama The Newsroom. Set behind the scenes of an American cable news show, it catalogues the workings, politics, and pitfalls of putting such a show together. In the way that it makes us think about the news we receive and how we receive it, it as every inch as hard-hitting as its better known older brother The West Wing.

One of the programme’s most fascinating exchanges comes when the lead anchor, the indefatigable Will McAvoy, is interviewing a leader of the Occupy Wall Street movement about the group’s various demands, before the pair eventually settle on discussing income inequality. McAvoy is accused of being overpaid. His response is that he, a leader in his field, is not overpaid. He is paid exactly what the market will bear, and what the marked demands.

You haven’t stumbled into an article in the Film & TV section, don’t worry. What the above episode illustrates, albeit perhaps clumsily, is that when we talk of professionals – bankers, musicians, politicians, newsreaders – being overpaid, there must be more nuance than the amount of working hours put into a job. That’s why I was surprised by the recently released BBC figures, and not for the reason I sense most people were.

In an effort to renew its royal charter, the BBC this week published a list of all of its ‘on-screen talent’ who earn more that £150,000, and two issues arose. The first is in the amount that household names such as Huw Edwards and Chris Evans are paid, and the second was in what appeared to be quite a large – indeed, an outrageous – gender pay gap.

On the gender gap, the headline is shameful: each of the BBC’s top 7 earners is a man, and just a third of the top 96 earners were women. And when we look at the names that were excluded from the list, for example Emily Maitliss, whose Newsnight co-anchor did feature with a salary of £299,000, a real problem begins to emerge. The BBC has a duty as both an industry leader and a public institution in all senses of the word to be at the forefront of solving the celebrity gender pay disparity.

And the easiest thing about this is that there is not a question of meritocracy – the BBC does not need to positively discriminate in favour of women (whether or not we think it should is a different matter). The salient point is that women like Maitliss already have the positions that could command vast sums of money, and yet are being denied full compensation.

The connected point, however, is this. Many have claimed that in order to fund these fairer salaries for women in the industry, male stars should be asked to take a pay cut. First of all, I think that sweeps the issue under the carpet. If a male star is being paid the ‘correct amount’ to begin with, an assumption I know, then any effort to equalise by bringing his salary down will be purely symbolic. It will lead to a BBC that is uncompetitive and where meritocracy is pushed aside in the interest of empty gestures. Anyone who is underpaid might want those around them to be paid less, and they might even be happier earning a negligibly higher amount, but most likely they will want to be paid exactly what those being paid the correct amount for years have been earning. Why? Because a decision was obviously made that John Humphrys’ presence on the Today programme was worth about £600,000. Now anyone doing the same job for less money than this, man or woman, is within our context underpaid.

On the amounts themselves, many will say that for those who work at the BBC, and are perhaps, being paid through the license fee, to be considered civil servants, the salaries are inflated. Yet when we look at reports of what ITV and Sky pay their talent, this is simply not the case – the salaries are, broadly speaking, similar (though exact figures in the private sector are unconfirmed). Why should Huw Edwards, probably the most-watched anchor in the country, be expected to take a pay-hit for working in the public sector. Is there any other field where we would expect someone at the top of their game to make such a compromise?

Oh, but if he wants the money he should move across to the private sector.

And so the BBC, paid for by license fee money, ceases to be a hub of excellence and begins to be a training ground for those moving on when it becomes viable. It becomes second rate because anyone who is good knows they can make a bigger buck elsewhere.

The BBC should solve its gender pay gap with deliberate speed. But it should not forget that, as well as being a publicly-funded organisation, it is also a national and international institution that has the duty to be an industry leader in quality as well.

“One of the greatest war movies ever made”

Matthew Vautrey
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“One of the greatest war movies ever made”

Considering the amount of hype around this film, whether that be through extensive advertising, the excitement of a new Christopher Nolan project, or the anticipation for Harry Styles’ first acting credit, I was surprised to be greeted with a commemorative t-shirt on entry to the cinema, declaring that I’d been to watch it. It’s the sort of thing you might be paid to wear, not given once you’ve already bought a ticket. And yet, after not even two hours of some soldiers getting on and off boats, I’m very tempted to make it a wardrobe staple.

Detailing the seemingly fictional events of the Dunkirk evacuation during World War II, the film follows the embarrassing military fiasco on the continent, which left over 400,000 British and French soldiers surrounded by the enemy on a beach in Northern France. With larger naval ships unable to dock in the shallow waters, and German bombers and U-boats slowly picking them off, it was down to a flotilla of civilian fishing boats to save the armies.

Of course, this being a Nolan film, it would be too simple to keep the storyline linear; instead he chooses three interconnecting stories, each with an individually paced timeline, jumping from beach to fishing boat to spitfire with sometimes dizzying speed. The plot, if it can be called that, seems confusing before you realise that chronology has been altered, but once you do one uniting theme becomes evident: survival. The result is nothing short of a spectacle, with action Michael Bay would be proud of, but that feels uncomfortably real, nearly all shot in 70mm IMAX film. The characters themselves play a supporting role to the vast spectacle of disaster and despair they are subjected to, most remaining unnamed soldiers throughout. This is fitting given that the real antagonist is not the Germans per se but what their ever-looming threat represents – it’s not so much good against evil, as the struggle for survival against death.

If ever there was an example of why practical effects – special effects produced physically during filming, not in post production – are superior in all regards, this is it. You can only sit wide-eyed as a destroyer sinks in under a minute, extras pouring off it like water, while a spitfire chases the bomber responsible 30 metres above them. This is likely why the performances given seem real, as almost every bullet and explosion seen by the viewers was experienced by the actors. You’d expect something impressive when a studio provides $150 million in funding, but that doesn’t make the result any less staggering.

If you expect to walk out feeling an overwhelming nationalistic pride for Britain you probably don’t know what happened at Dunkirk, and thankfully this sombre tone remains even when (not-really-a-spoiler alert!) those lucky enough to escape return to cheering children at the train station and the ironic praise of “well done”. Indeed, the entire film echoes with the realisation that these men will never be the same again, none more so than Cillian Murphy’s shell-shocked character only credited as ‘shivering soldier’.

In the hands of a less experienced director this could easily have become quite repetitive, as seemingly every attempt to escape the beach becomes a claustrophobic fight to avoid shrapnel or drowning. But where Dunkirk succeeds is by never actually letting up on the tension, making it one continuous struggle that keeps drawing you in. Particular thanks must be given to Hans Zimmer, teaming up with Nolan once again to provide a soundtrack that keeps the pace frantic but suspenseful, and perfectly suits the big-screen IMAX format this movie was intended for.

Is it Nolan’s best film to date? Quite possibly. It’s not his typical summer blockbuster, with little to no dialogue, and none of the sleek modernism that has come to define his body of work. But this is definitely not one for illegally streaming on your laptop if you want to appreciate the sheer force of the visual feast. On the contrary, if you do get to experience it in full 70mm film you will be seeing one of the greatest war movies ever made.

Made-up honours sold using Oxford reputation

Akshay Bilolikar
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Made-up honours sold using Oxford reputation

Oxford University’s reputation has been used by Ukrainian businesspeople to sell made-up honours for over £9,000 a time, an investigation by The Times has revealed.

Honours running into the millions of pounds have been sold under the guise of the Europe Business Assembly (EBA) and on the reputation of the University, with awards such as the “The Queen Victoria Commemorative Award” selling for up to £9,300.

The business, which uses photographs of colleges in its advertising and copies the University’s typeface in its logo, claims to offer those attending events access to “exclusive Oxford University lectures.”

Former EBA staff claim they were encouraged to approach businesses and academics from developing countries with mass emails and cold-calls, with anybody who expressed interest asked to pay several thousand pounds to meet the company’s administrative costs.

One former employee, who spoke to the Times, said: “What’s £8,000 for a certificate? £8,000 is not a lot to have ‘Oxford’ on your wall.”

The EBA, run by a father and son from offices in both central Oxford and Ukraine, has given out thousands of awards since 2000 and seeks to trade on the reputation of Oxford University.

It also sells membership of organisations such as the “Academic Union” and the “International Club of Leaders”, and charges authors for articles included in its self-published journal, the Socrates Almanac.

Awards are given at ceremonies held at hired venues including the Oxford Town Hall, the Institute of Directors in London and other locations in Europe, with awards bestowed by John Netting, a former lecturer at Oxford Brookes University.

Ceremonies, which borrow from British state pageantry, often feature paid public figures such as the scientist and Lincoln fellow Baroness Greenfield. Awards cite a “patent” number as evidence of legitimacy, but the number corresponds to an expired trademark for a trophy design.

One former employee told The Times that they were asked to muddy the distinction between the EBA and Oxford University.

“We were selling the idea that they were becoming part of the great Oxford institution,” the former employee said. “It was just up to adding and finding random email addresses from universities and contacting them.”

Two Portuguese mayors, Ferndando Ruas and José Maria da Cunha Costa, used public money to buy “Best Cities” awards in 2013, local reports said. Ruas is now a MEP, and said he believed that the EBA was credible.

Stephen Rouse, a spokesperson for Oxford University, told Cherwell: “We welcome the opportunity to make very clear that this company, its events and its awards have absolutely nothing to do with the University of Oxford.

“Anyone who is ever unsure if an advertised course or award is actually connected to Oxford University is always welcome to contact the University and we will be happy to check for them.”

“An ethereal but disillusioned fairytale grounded in historical reality”

Katie Sayer
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“An ethereal but disillusioned fairytale grounded in historical reality”

The Charing Cross Theatre is an odd little venue, hidden between Embankment and Charing Cross station, and tucked underneath the Hungerford Bridge. What was once a Victorian music hall has been converted into a theatre with a capacity of 265, and with the atmospheric rumble of trains overhead every so often, the venue is defined by an intimacy that could make the wrong production feel claustrophobic. For Yank!, however, the venue could not be more perfect, and the blend of intimacy and anticipation, almost redolent of an air raid shelter, feeds in perfectly to two hours of musical extravaganza that is a lot more victory-on-the-home-front than blitz-spirit.

Written by brothers David and Joseph Zellnik, Yank! tells the story of Stu, an 18-year-old conscript who joins the war effort in 1943, falling in love with one of his comrades, Mitch, before being taken on as a reporter for Yank magazine (the real military paper released weekly throughout the war). After travelling around various US military bases as a journalist, Stu hears that his company have been sent to the frontline as part of the now-infamous Big Push, and opts to return to them, reconciling with Mitch and formulating an American-Dream style plan for after the war that is as tragic as it is endearing. After being arrested for suspected homosexuality, Stu is faced with a choice between military prison and a return to the front line himself, and in true romantic tradition, Stu opts to join his lover.

There is definitely a strong tonal disjunct between the two halves of the play. The first half has all the makings of a romantic comedy, albeit one that is set in the midst of the war effort, as we watch Mitch and Stu fall in love, in a romantic arc that could belong to any standard heteronormative Hollywood affair. Andy Coxon’s brooding, Aidan Turner-esque Mitch is the perfect complement to Scott Hunter’s high-pitched nervousness as new recruit Stu, and the chemistry between the two actors is undeniable. It is clear to see why both have been nominated for Offie awards for Best Male Actor. When combined with a number of light-hearted show tunes, this makes for a first half that is charmingly optimistic, characterised by its warmth and humour.

Consequently, the grittier second half is all the more powerful for being so unexpected. Stu’s entirely spoken monologue as he faces the front line alone on stage is driven home by its dissonant departure from the Glee-esque tone of the first half, and the use of sound and light to emulate a war zone makes phenomenal use of the intimate space. If the first half, with its romantic duets and warm brand of humour, is akin to a rom-com, then the second half is a more traditional, poignant war drama. The move from a From Here to Eternity vibe to a Saving Private Ryan feel, gives us the impression that what could have been a fairytale has been grounded in a sad historical reality.

Arguably, this is the intended effect. The promotional posters read that ‘some stories didn’t make it into the history books’, and the sense we get that Yank! is a love story that will always be slightly ethereal is reinforced thematically in the play. The thriving gay scene in the Pacific Islands where Stu is stationed is definitively an underground venture, defined by secret toilet codes and initials in diaries that act as Stu’s only material reminders of the existence of this subculture. Perhaps it is merely contextual awareness from the audience, reinforced by the number of references to times and dates that would ring alarm bells from any history students, but we constantly get the feeling that Stu’s contented existence is teetering on the edge of a volcano, awaiting an inevitable ending.

The impression we get that Yank! is akin to a disillusioned fairy-tale is also reinforced by the way the narrative is framed. The opening scene is set in the modern day, with Scott Hunter playing the 21st century man who finds Stu’s diary in a junk shop and reads it aloud, before we enter properly into the narrative with Hunter as Stu. This structure imbues the production with a sense of self-awareness – the narrator describes how he found “Remembering You”, the big number and defining refrain of Yank! on iTunes – and this prevails throughout the script, with much comic relief coming from a self-aware pastiche of gay stereotypes.

What the Zellnik brothers have achieved with Yank! is an important and inspiring musical that gives a voice to the muted gay subculture in the US military during WW2. This original and self-empowered script is brought to life by James Baker’s vivid direction, with Chris Cuming’s excellent choreography particularly standing out. It is also impressive that the cast are as adept at dancing as they are at acting and singing, and the unexpected tap dance number is especially enjoyable.

Overall, Yank! tells an important story in a mode that is entertaining and unpredictable, perfectly blending humour and gravity to produce a play that is insightful and inspiring. The cast and creative team are excellent, and with tickets starting at £15 for students, this interesting and original production strikes me as the perfect way to make the most of the long vac. 4 and a half stars.

Despicable Me 3 and Cars 3: this summer’s prime animated franchises

Jonnie Barrow
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Despicable Me 3 and Cars 3: this summer’s prime animated franchises

To review the third instalments of two very different family film franchises, I braved the fiercest cinematic obstacle a man can face. I went alone. On a Friday afternoon. In screens packed full of irritating children and their exasperated parents. It’s indisputably the very worst way to spend time in a cinema – but I did it for you, dear reader. You deserve to know which of these films is the best way to distract a young cousin you’ve been forced to look after by an overbearing aunt who just wishes the two of you would get along even though you have nothing in common and you’d rather sit inside catching up on Game of Thrones before the new season comes out so you don’t get riddled with spoilers. Or, y’know…another totally random, non-specific scenario… Let’s just get down to the reviews, shall we!

I really like the first two Despicable Me films. I even think the second one is probably a stronger film than the first, so I was feeling ready to see what the third one would bring. My optimism was sorely misplaced. Despicable Me 3 is a lazily written, astonishingly inert film that numbed a hyperactive screening full of young children into submission through its sheer lack of ideas or coherent storytelling.

The warning signs start with the film’s main story idea – Gru has a long-lost identical twin brother, called Dru, who he must team up with because the script says so. Seriously, not only does this main arc employ the most tired cliche available to a writer with no ideas, but it doesn’t even make much sense within the actual movie. Dru is also incessantly irritating; at one point Gru stops and says “I miss the minions”, and you could hear the whole cinema wishing they were back, too.

This main storyline only takes up about half the running time, because it’s far too thin to support a whole movie, so the rest is a muddle of meaningless, unfunny comic interludes and sideplots. The minions are quite funny but have absolutely no impact on the plot, while the rest of the screenplay flounders in its attempts to give the rest of the cast anything at all to do.

While people generally seem to like the Despicable Me movies, the Cars trilogy is perhaps one of the strangest film series in cinema: a series of movies that not many people seem to like at all, that seems to exist only to sell toys so that Pixar can fund more interesting movies. It’s the Pixar series that no-one likes, never living up to the heights of Pixar’s best. Worse still for Cars 3, it’s preceded by a brilliantly inventive, charming, funny, warm-hearted short film called ‘Lou’ which seems like it’s setting the actual movie up to pale in comparison.

What a surprise, then, that Cars 3 manages to recapture the emotional heart of the first film, combining some of the most beautiful animation Pixar have ever done with some fairly canny story ideas to craft a solid, if not groundbreaking, film.

The conceit of this latest outing for Lightning McQueen is basically Rocky IV: Lightning is too old to compete with the new younger racers, but wants to race anyway, so he has to train to be the best again. It’s a simple, well-trodden story, and with a tighter focus could’ve produced a great movie to cap off the trilogy.

Unfortunately, large amounts of Cars 3 are far better to think about in retrospect than they are to watch in the moment. At one point towards the end of the second act, Lightning turns to another character and complains about how much time they’ve wasted, and I was left agreeing resignedly. The second act is just a series of skits which add very little to the story and feel like textbook filler, which is unusually weak storytelling for the Pixar team. But, like in the best sports movies, it’s when all seems lost that things turn around and improve – and such is the case with Cars 3 and its third act.

Thanks to some brave and interesting storytelling choices that I wont spoil here, and some borrowed heart from the first movie (including using some old recordings of the late, great Paul Newman as Doc Hudson), Cars 3 manages to stick the landing with relative ease. Though it isn’t exactly a resounding success, between these two films, I know which I’d rather be forced to watch as a babysitter on a rainy July afternoon.

We can scrutinise without abusing

Maxim Parr-Reid
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We can scrutinise without abusing

The abuse and vitriol directed at some MPs during the referendum and the General Election campaign was unacceptable on all sides of the political spectrum. Possibly the starkest illustration of the venom within the hyper-partisan political climate is the fact that even Laura Kuenssberg, the BBC’s Political Editor, must have a bodyguard. But even within this narrative, we must bear in mind the crucial distinction between abusing politicians, and holding them to account. We can condemn racist and sexist attacks on Diane Abbott whilst wishing for proper scrutiny of a prospective Home Secretary.

During the election campaign, much was made of Diane Abbott’s inability to remember how much Labour’s policy of extra police officers would cost. Abbott’s repetition of the phrase “it will cost” in a BBC interview became almost iconic for all the wrong reasons, alongside a certain reference by the Prime Minister to “fields of wheat”. The gaffe breathed life into meme culture. The substance – police funding – only increased in importance during the campaign, particularly in light of the Manchester attack.

It’s crucial that important policies such as policing, which is key in the Home Secretary’s portfolio, can be costed. The criticism of Abbott’s inability to remember the cost of this policy should not be equated with some of the more unpleasant attacks on Abbott on grounds of race or sexuality. The interview in question made no references to Abbott’s ethnicity or the fact she was female.

Importantly, Abbott’s awkward interview led to a debate about police numbers. This was a debate which ultimately shone the spotlight on Theresa May’s time as Home Secretary from 2010 to 2016, and the Conservatives’ reduction of police numbers. Although the way Abbott was scrutinised by the BBC and others was intense, it raised an issue that become more important as the election campaign continued, and one which ultimately shifted the focus to Theresa May rather than Abbott.

The debate over whether politicians are fairly criticised and held to account by journalists, and the media, is always going to be a matter of opinion. Ultimately, the General Election emphasised the importance of accountability and the extent to which politicians can be scrutinised by the public. The interview gaffes of Abbott and Corbyn were memorable. It’s important to remember that Corbyn was grilled on Labour’s childcare policy in the same way Abbott was on police numbers.

Another key moment in the election campaign, and indeed a theme which ran throughout the election, was Theresa May’s refusal to debate her opponents. Caroline Lucas’ assertion that “the first rule of leadership is to show up” sums up many people’s reactions to May’s absence from public debates. It is far better for politicians to attend an interview or a debate that doesn’t go well than not to turn up at all.

The way Diane Abbott was pressed by the media during the election was hardly personal. In 2005, the then Conservative leader Michael Howard was asked the same question no less than fifteen times by Jeremy Paxman. It’s important to reject personal attacks on politicians like Abbott and Corbyn when they do happen, but holding these same politicians to account is important for our democracy if it is to be open and transparent.

Adaptating our perception of film adaptations

Jack Allsopp
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Adaptating our perception of film adaptations

It is common knowledge amongst those culturally ‘in the know’, so to speak, that the on-screen version of a book is always worse than the original. Just look at The Hobbit, where Peter Jackson’s greed got the better of him, and whilst huge takings were gathered at the box office, purists and critics were generally sceptical of the quality of the trilogy. By contrast, Tolkien’s Hobbit is a universally loved tale, a book cherished across generations.

Similarly, Baz Lurhmann’s The Great Gatsby was widely, and rightly, derided for failing to capture the essence and the ethereal brilliance of Fitzgerald’s novel, which is a firm favourite in the English Literature A-level classroom. Fitzgerald, during his life, was of the opinion that none of the film adaptations of his novel would ever be good enough. In fact, he was known to walk out of screenings or on occasion would not even bother turning up.

Nonetheless, the assumption that a screen retelling of a book will inherently be inferior should be challenged. One of the strongest cases for this argument is that of Casino Royale. Rightly praised as an excellent film–Daniel Craig, Mads Mikkelsen, and Eva Green play out their roles with consummate ease. Bond is at his heart-stopping heroic best whilst Le Chiffre is sublimely sinister as the antagonist and Vesper Lynd is the ultimate femme fatale. However, those who have read Ian Fleming’s novel are almost always disappointed. Written in an arrogant and laddish style, the misogyny of the work is an unpleasant surprise. Not only this, but Bond car chases are bigger, better, and more visually breath-taking on the big screen than in the imagination.

Therefore, in some scenarios the opportunity presented to a screenwriter to rewrite and rework a story is one which opens up the original to the possibility of improvement. The same can also be said of The Night Manager, where Le Carre’s excessive focus on the bureaucratic elements of espionage and his smarmy tone, which at times borders on xenophobia, means that his novel is a boring, dated read. By contrast, the BBC TV adaptation shed these elements and produced a critically acclaimed mini-series.

Further, the screen adaptation can also be successful and useful even when the quality of the original is not increased. Take Game of Thrones, which has become a global phenomenon over the course of the last seven years, as an example of this. George R R Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire is undoubtedly an excellent read and the plot of the written series has nuance, depth, and power that is impossible to squeeze into 60 minute weekly instalments over the course of a season. Whilst it would be wrong to diminish Martin’s achievements, the world of Westeros would not have reached such a large audience were it not for Benioff and Weiss who truncated Martin’s sprawling tomes down into something more digestible for the mass market.

To take a few more extreme examples, films like The Godfather, Fight Club, Goodfellas, and The Shining have all risen to become far more well-known than their respective literary ancestor, thereby raising the profile of the original book itself too. In some instances, films have turned written stories upside-down to create something more vibrant for a new audience. Westside Story is the classic case: a brilliant retelling of Romeo and Juliet where the Montagues and Capulets become the Jets and the Sharks thus turned Shakespeare’s play into a musical with greater contemporary appeal and acute social commentary. Also worth mentioning is the transformation of Heart of Darkness into Apocalypse Now, making the paranoid commentary on the horrors of imperialism relevant for a new generation.

Nevertheless, adaptations do not always go so smoothly. Gatsby teaches us that there are some books, which leave too much to the imagination so that any on-screen version will always fall short. Indeed, The Hobbit shows how Hollywood’s greed can sully the quality of great literature. But beyond this, adaptations have the potential to be eminently successful in creating something better and more relevant. This is not a judgment on whether one storytelling medium is superior to the other, but an observation on the relative merits of the visual versus the written. There are benefits that can sometimes be gained from reworking, re-crafting, and remaking stories to be watched rather than read.

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