Climbing the Mountain of Conflict

Busy times!

[Yes, that’s as far as I’m going to explain my most recent hiatus.]

 

Not entirely as busy, however, for yours truly not to have gone to the cinema on a whim - and while it still exists - to see a few recent reputed-to-be-good movies, over the past two weeks:

1) The fairly superlative Låt den rätte komma in [or Let the Right One In, for us heathen English-speakers] which I was privileged to watch with a Swedish-speaker (and part-resident), to boot.

2) A second viewing of The Reader (2008), as excellent as the first, in a crushing double bill with Sophie Scholl - Die letzten Tage (Sophie Scholl – The Final Days; 2005). Both movies were of the highest calibre, but that double-bill is not recommended!

Finally, tonight, the reason for this post:

Armando Ianucci’s In the Loop.

An adaptation of BBC political satire In the Thick of It, In the Loop is, quite frankly, the film a lot of people in this country (the UK) - amidst crises, leaks and smear campaigns - have been waiting for, a while now. But not just this country, maybe, hence my noting it.

I don’t know if it’s getting a release outside Britain, and it’s also certainly a bit of a comedy for those, well,  in the loop about the issues it tackles: politics, corruption, war, and being one of the boys. Still, even judged on its comedic merits alone, the writing is incredible.

‘Will you turn that fucking thing down already!? It’s just fucking vowels!’, announces (always) frustrated Scottish political bulldog Malcolm Tucker to the posh, well-intentioned, ‘old values’ minister accused of a leak. He’s referring to choral classical. “Do you know why you’re listening to that shit? You’re listening to it because it would be bad form if you wore a hat that said ‘I went to private school’, instead!”

 

So, in a nutshell, why should one see In the Loop?

Brilliant, sizzling, sparkling comedy writing and characterisation rarely seen or heard in contemporary political satire: bring to mind Yes, Minister (or Google it if not), only throw in the US and war, and entirely stop pulling any punches whatsoever. Yes, I mean that.

There should be a notice: “No punches were pulled in this feature.”

That bad good.

(Note that it’s not the plentiful expletives I’ve in mind when I say this.)

 

Why should one avoid it?

Well, it is like Yes, Minister. It’s a movie the plot of which kicks off with a minister of Her Majesty’s Government who can’t keep his mouth shut about a war he doesn’t want, but accidentally ends up supporting via a consistent stream of strategically mis-phrased views.

It also requires a substantial degree of intimacy with Britain, the British, and British politics to work, even for the US-centred themes.

And I watched it in a movie theatre full of over-60s and pseudo-Oxonian mid-30-ish Hugh Grant clones with their girlfriends, hanging from the lips of a foul-mouthed Scot finding, among other things, new and imaginative political uses for the word ‘cunt’. And we all laughed.

Autumn Poetry

Winter always had a special appeal to me, and still does; especially the latter part, after the new year sets in, with strange new beginnings to be had in the cold stillness of the season. No wonder, then, that winter is my favourite time of year - which reminds me that there's a new one here, and that you should all enjoy it. Happy new year!

 Going back to cold stillness, it is also no wonder I have a very personal (and also very special) affinity for the northern countries, Finland, the land of lakes, perhaps most of them all.

 And so this first post of the year, although it could have easily been dedicated to Sibelius, will be about a band.

Introductions aside, you might have noticed a small change in format. I might maintain it, if I feel it works. Also, this is indicative of one type of post you'll see here: a recommendation. Not a review, nor an analysis, presentation, or general commentary. Merely a "have a look at this".

What is "this"? It's a Finnish band called Poets of the Fall, whose albums have only been released in at most 7 countries (for the last one). A musical amalgam of moody, ballad-y rock with twitchy, jazzy rhythms, as well as more straightforward recitative, channeled through an intensely texture-conscious rhythmic and instrumental aural palette.

Confused you yet?

Drawing from the talents of a rock vocalist and extraordinary songwriter, a jazz guitarist and an "industrial machine trance man" (quoting Wikipedia's article) on the keyboard, Poets' music is like rhythmically volatile classic rock, making distinctive use of their impact on the listener, their "mood" as a structural tool like harmony. Their songs are carpets of texture, unrolled agonizingly slowly, or crumpled and set on fire; yet always with the utmost care.

 It is this care, and the sensitivity it reflects, coupled with phenomenal lyrics, that make Poets of the Fall perhaps my single favourite "band" among all viable members of that category.

So in a nutshell, if you enjoy sensitive, quirky, dead-serious yet playful rock, from the strongly inward-looking Signs of Life, to the more expansive, hardened and physically hard-hitting (later) Carnival of Rust and Revolution Roulette, the Poets of the Fall deserve your ear.

[Cover of the band's latest album, taken from their official site.]

Two further, non-essential but interesting notes:

• I learned of Poets of the Fall by playing Finnish Remedy Entertainment's magnum opus and gaming landmark, Max Payne 2: the developers had contacted the then-new band to write a song for them to use as a theme for (and throughout) the game, and the result was the  (in my opinion amazing) ballad "Late Goodbye", still my favourite song of any type.

• Poets of the Fall apparently record (or recorded the first album) in a studio they'd set up themselves in one of the members' houses. I'm noting this because the sound is particularly impressive, balanced and crystal-clear throughout; more than would be expected even from a big studio with a dedicated sound team, especially for this genre!
  

Dawn and Tuna

Another day begins, and the guilt begins to creep in.

No, I have not yet started on the Comparative Review feature (which I promise will be worth the hype), and neither have I posted my impressions on The Wrath of the Lich King. The latter, however, is mostly due to my not having played enough of the expansion as of yet to talk about it to any extent beyond "yes, it's pretty good".

Regarding the Comparative Review, this is one of the "main" things I'd like to do in The Prodigal Sorcerer, along with my stream of nons- Personal posts, and the various commentary "articles", whether in the style of "this Karajan release is good, go buy it" or "the world is coming to an end, stock up on the canned tuna.*"

*Canned tuna being the only thing worth stocking up on, in case of global catastrophe.

Edit:

I'll also continue mercilessly editing my posts after I make them, until I get the hang of how Blogger converts the preview to the actual post.

Hopefully, you (the readership) will enjoy at least some part of what I'll have to say, and justify the presence of this blog in your readers/feeds/whateveryoucallthem.

But even if not, I'll still keep posting in it, don't worry!

More Like It

Hot on the heels of my scathing dismissal of Gramophone's current quality standards came new to me that the magazine is making their entire archive (1923-2008) available online!

In fact, it's already available as I'm typing this, right here.

For every single word I've said about the Gramophone in its current state/mess, I have a hundred words of praise for its content in the old era, even from the fragment of which I've been exposed to indirectly, and through the reviews their other site previously had available.

From landmark interviews, to columns and reviews by pretty much the entire British musical elite (and not just them - see for example: Rachmaninov on Rachmaninov) throughout the 20th century, I can't stress it enough: if you're remotely interested in classical recordings and their history, this demands your urgent attention!

Good will

It's snowing heavily in North America; the hardline Catholic Pope laments global instability; Mahmoud Ahmadinejad is delivering a message of goodwill here in the UK; and Harold Pinter has died.

We live in interesting times, which I suggest is a good thing.

Merry Christmas!

(And don't forget to enjoy the rest of the year, too.)