Saturday, 12 July 2008

recorded at my expense

Just realised the irony of finally sitting down and watching Neil Jordan's Michael Collins on the eleventh night... once again, Alan Rickman is amazing in full-on bastard mode as Dev, and that justifies the whole endeavour (Irish bastard, German bastard, wizard bastard, outlaw-bashing bastard... is there no level of bastardy he can't achieve? Apart from Love, Actually obviously... and he still nearly managed it!)

Few (especially notable) ropey moments: Julia Roberts clearly speaking with an American accent; all the outdoor scenes being shot on the one street (bar GPO and Four Courts, obviously); them managing to shoehorn in just about every single (future, at the time!) Ballykissangel cast member, but inexplicably exclude the magnificent acting talents of Liam and Donal!; complete fiction for the last twenty minutes (other than, obviously, Collins was shot in Cork - the county is right!). All these things and more are enhanced when you watch it with your mother, and she happens to be an irish woman with a Masters in History from TCD who teaches this stuff at all three Key Stages... so you get an extra commentary track with all the sly comments and observations. Though as the second bottle of red was opened, this did make way to comments in tandem with my opening paragraph (but aimed at actual Dev more than Rickman-being-Dev...).

There was, however, also the relation of a pretty horrific anecdote I hadn't heard before, about one of the Catholic workers from her mother's homestead being taken out by the black-and-tans, stood against the wall outside the chapel, and shot as an example - his house was picked at random. Even Alan might have shirked at that.

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Should really be in bed by now, but after a very long day I had one of those cider-and-kitkat-induced moments of inspiration, and wrote the lyrics for a melody line that's been bugging me for the last week. It's not a bad song in itself, but it does have one frightening aspect - more folk/rocky music. Emo is becoming a distant shadow, perhaps... maybe not yet.

Trying to work out if it would be legal to hold a (small) gig in our hayshed. Hell, it's big enough and we've got enough power sources... you'd have to bring your own bottle, though. Watch this space.

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