Stardust: The Princess Bride With CGI

Mel from the sops and I went to see Stardust last night. It was one of those horrible, drizzly early winter evenings, where the normal throngs of Leicester Square are repalced by people hurrying by in umbrellas. In short, a perfect night for catching a film. Now I know that Mladen didn't like the film, but I am going to say staright off that I thoroughly enjoyed it.

There is nothing complicated about the story at all, and in many ways it is the same variation on the Taming-of-the-Shrew-meets- Brothers-Grimm story that we saw in that other favourite film of mine, The Princess Bride. The hero of this film is somewhat less attractive than Cary Elwes, the heroine more gutsy than Princess Buttercup, and the dialogue a little less scintillating, but there are a few gems. We have Robert de Niro playing a (rather hackneyed) camp gay pirate captain who needs to maintain his image of ruthlessness, and Michelle Pfeiffer doing her whole pretty-again-ugly-again routine. She is gorgeous by any standard, but you do wonder whether any of the liver spots are genuine.

The best part of the movie is that it almost exactly matches the mental image I created of the world of Stormhold when I read the book by Neil Gaiman. Of course the book is more subtle, especially towards the end where the Sienna Miller character (oh bad acting thy name art Sienna) is not quite the wanton hussy she is made out to be and is indeed much more sympathetic. I can see why they had to simplify things for the cinema, because it would require another half hour to explain how the passage of time differs between our world and faerie.

Anyway, all in all a worthy film and very enjoyable.

Marriage Made In Heaven?

I just paid a visit to our own website and noticed the bumph for the Paris concert is up. We are, of course, performing with the inimitable Equivox, and the picture on our home page comes off the Equivox website. They have most definitely changed their stage wear. The last time I saw them perform was back in Various Voices 2005 Paris, and they were a hoot, dressed as they were in a cross between panto and Village People outfits. Not sure that the current bridal wear is an improvement, but it is most assuredly striking!

Looking at the order of the performance as well, it appears we will be following the pattern as set up by Out 'n' Loud where the host choir sings first and we will be bringing up the second half. Traditionally it is the other way around. I guess it just adds a little pressure on us to perform. Then again, our concert gear is comparatively staid in comparison, so for entertainment value, the only way is up!

The Stalker Song

I realise I am bit of a roll post-wise today, but I promised Simon that I would blog about the new Shayne Ward song, Breathless. We were watching X-factor last week when Mr. Ward came on just before the results to plug his latest single. Now there is no denying that this guy has a great voice and is good-looking to boot, and the song itself is beautifully composed and really rather sweet.

But, and this is a big "but", I still refer to it as the "Stalker Song" because of the truly horrendous lyrics. Perhaps I am a bit cynical, but who can see the romance in a phrases like,

And If we had babies they would look like you,
It'd be so beautiful if that came true.

Or, even more nausea-inducing,

And if we had babies they would have your eyes,
I'd fall deeper watching you give life.

This all-too-readily calls to mind imagery which involves an operating theatre, a speculum, a lot of wet towels and an awful mess.

Plus, if someone told you that they really hope your babies look like you and that they'd enjoy watching you deliver them, isn't it kinda creepy? I mean, like 200-yard-restraining order creepy?

The Pink Singers' Facebook Group

Uh, okay... If, like me you live under a rock in a grubby T-shirt and never go out, then please skip this post. Because the Pink Singers now have their own Facebook Group. Yessiree, now proudly linked in the Officially Pink section of this blog. I'm reliably told that this is not just for Pink Singers old and new, it is also for friends of the Pinkies, and people who might be interested in coming to our concerts or joining our group. More of the smiley group you know and love, but on line! Go on, join, you know you want to!

I Feel The Earth Move Under My Feet!

I freely admit to being a bit of a geek, and although I haven't quite stepped over into playing a games console (unlike Andrew D, but he has an excuse!), a lot of the news I read includes information on new upcoming video games.

One hotly anticipated newcomer is Mass Effect. The gameplay is supposed to be pretty cool, but it has gained some degree of notoriety because of the inclusion of a "raunchy lesbian love scene". Now, I'm not sure which planet these journalists are on, but the scene, reproduced in its full-but-totally-safe-for-work glory above, is about as raunchy as peeling a carrot (of course it depends on how you peel it, and whose carrot!)

One of the lesbians is in fact a blue alien, so I am not sure it necessarily counts as "lesbian" if one of the partners isn't human. The wooden acting and total absence of any passion whatsoever puts it in league with most straight porn involving two women, but I suppose the awkward dialogue ties in nicely with my own experiences of trying to get someone into the sack. Check out the ultra-cheesy Titanic moment at the end.

I'm sure Mass Effect beats most games where you run around trying to shoot things, but while playing a lesbian seems to be fairly acceptable in the male-dominated gaming arena, it would really be revolutionary if, in the game, you could also let your male character get some hot gay human-on-alien action. Than again, having seen what the male aliens look like, perhaps not.

I'm Comin' Back Home

I've been in the the Pink Singers now for nearly five years, and in that time we've rehearsed in all manner of locations: at the Drill Hall, at some churches near Euston and behind King's Cross, at the Place and at a school near Holborn amongst others. But of all of these places my favourite has got to be the Royal Academy of Music, which is where we returned to yesterday.

Not sure what it is exactly, perhaps it is the rather historical venue, or the "pride by association" I get from wandering around the halls with all these talented music students. Then there is the fact that I live quite nearby, so getting to RAM is much more convenient for me than the farther flung Place. And finally, but no less significantly, there is the much prettier pub we slope off to after the rehearsal.

It is that time of the year again, when the sleet is coming down and it is freezing, and we rush from warm (and stinky) rehearsal room to warm and cosy pub. I know its not Christmas yet, but it feels like it could be Christmas.

Despite all this romanticism, even I realise that we are starting to outgrow the rehearsal spaces at RAM and need to resort to venues further afield. Yesterday's rehearsal wasn't that well attended, but even so, it was hard not to gag just a little when I re-entered the room after having popped off to the loo. You know things are bad when you out-smell the toilets.

As for the rehearsal proper, we seem to be hitting the "perfecting" phase now, where we know most of the notes, and it is a question of interpretation and perhaps running through a few tricky phrases. The sound is becoming somewhat more cohesive, and by the time Paris swings around in a manner of weeks we will be ready. Sue and I managed to sing through most of the repertoire without sheet music for the first time. Woo hoo! The choreography on the other hand...

Believe It Or Not...

...I'm walkin' on air, I never thought I could feel so free-ee-ee.

That is the song which I've been humming for the last two days. It is always rather disconcerting when I find I know all the lyrics to a song, yet can't identify it. Anyway, thanks to Celso's encyclopaedic knowledge of 80s TV shows, it turns out that this was the theme tune from a series called "The Greatest American Hero". I remember watching this religiously when I was but yea high. Thanks to the wonders of YouTube, it is possible to relive the experience, over and over (and over) again.


Itch now duly scratched, time to move on to the next random song!

Who The Hell Is Timothy Leary - Dearie?

Our joint song in Paris is Let The Sunshine from the musical Hair. Since I have never seen either the musical or the film version, it is a bewildering blend of lyrics - what do smells of laboratories have to do with Manchester, England? - which on the face of it appear disjointed. The only bit which is vaguely familiar is the "Let the sunshine in" chorus, but even that is without context.

Anyway, to try to make sense of it all, I've done a bit of a search, and it turns out that the story is about a guy called Claude Hooper Bukowski. Claude is from Flushing, Queens, but wishes he were from Manchester, England. Not sure where the advantage lies in that, but it does explain why Manchester, England is Claude's theme tune. It is the song he sings at the start of the show to introduce himself to the Tribe, a bunch of anti-war hippies (this being 1968 and all). To cut a very long and rather meandering story short, Claude eventually gets signed up for the Vietnam draft, letting down his friends.

What we are singing with Equivox, is in fact two songs, The Flesh Failures, a song sung by Claude in his shame at giving in to being a solder, in which he reprises his theme tune, which is then followed closely by Let The Sunshine, the song performed by the Tribe as the musical's finale. At the very end of the show, Claude dies in Vietnam.

To pile on that additional layer of complexity, the storyline to the film was significantly changed from the musical, and to explain the scene in the video above, the officer arriving in the car is the real Bukowski. Instead, the one who answers to Bukowski is his best friend George Berger, who took Claude's place so that Claude could spend his last night before shipping out with his girlfriend. When he sings, "That's me!" he is merely continuing this subterfuge, but the shot of his grave at the end indicates that, for his sacrifice for his friend, poor George died out in Vietnam.

Confused yet? Either way, someone dies in Vietnam, and the songs are about the tragedy of war. They are supposed to be sad and pensive, not chirpy and fun.

Oh, and this is a picture of Timothy Leary, the American writer, psychologist and advocate of psychedelic drug research and use. He is most famous as a proponent of the therapeutic and spiritual benefits of LSD and coined and popularized the catch phrase "Turn on, tune in, drop out." Perhaps that explains the "laboratories" reference in the lyrics of the song? Who says being in the Pink Singers isn't educational?