"Too much of a good thing can be wonderful."
Ohai there!
I was thinking about a novel way to end this month's blogging adventures, contemplating a something along the lines of 'The Best Finales Ever', or anything to do with stuff finishing. Instead though, I think I just want to reflect on what's been an interesting month.
In the true spirit of BEDM, I present you with November's final blog on the 1st of December! It may have been haphazard and inconsistent at times, but for me blogging every day this month has been an enriching experience. Think about what we've covered! We've talked pop culture oddities - Megan Fox's hidden passion, 'RuPaul's Drag Race', Derren Brown's 'Apocalypse', a surprisingly honest acceptance speech. We've talked music - Lana Del Rey, Woodkid, Lana Del Rey again... OK, mainly Lana Del Rey. And oh boy have we talked film! Skyfall, 'Looper', 'Untouchable', 'Drive', 'Blue Velvet', 'Bring It On' and my beloved 'Perks of Being a Wallflower', on which I gushed considerably.
But for all that I've enjoyed talking about the things I'm passionate about (maybe not as passionately as Megan Fox), for me, I think the real reward has been talking about myself...
Not so much because I crave attention (though read blogging everyday how you like), but because it's all been quite cathartic for me. Talking about growing up, national identity, honesty, and even my inability to take compliments has led me to reflect on where I used to be, where I am now, and where I want to go next. Thank you for being a part of that.
I really do mean that. This would have been half the fun it was had people not responded and supported it. I'm glad that people have shown agreement to what I've said, as well as challenging my opinions - how boring would it be if we all felt the same about things?
I hope it's worked the other way as well! I hope that this blog has made you think about things in your own lives. I hope you said yes to something you wouldn't have before (as my friend Martha encouraged me to do when I was considering leaving school - best decision!). I hope everyone starts writing about things now, not just because vlogs are so 2009, but because you'll think about very unexpected things. I can only recommend this as a wholly worthwhile experience.
When I was talking about hipsters, receiving pearls of wisdom, or discussing, in believe it or not the most popular blog of the month, dungeons and dragons, it sometimes felt like too much. I began to flag about halfway into the month. But whenever I was exhausted, and lacked the motivation to put my all into this, I just remembered one of my gran's favourite sayings... Too much of a good thing can be wonderful.
And it was. You'll be hearing from me soon...
Tara x
Saturday, 1 December 2012
Wednesday, 28 November 2012
BMDN - Lana Revisited: The Paradise Edition (Nov 28th)
Ohai there!
Hows life? Sweet like cinnamon? Like a fuckin' dream you're living in? Yep, we're talking LDR again, but for two good reasons!
Firstly, I received this lengthy post from my friend Chris, a fan of Lana Del Rey who indirectly broke my last 'Born To Die' when he played the song 'Without You' (more on that later). It was in response to this blog that I posted on November 9th, discussing my thoughts on 'flash in the pan' artist Lana Del Rey. Here's what he posted:
"Ok! I've got Kate Nash on, I'm in my heels and I'm ready for Lana Del Ray discussions! The main point I wanna draw attention to is that feminism is about equality. Specifically important to my argument is that equality means choice.
The way I read Lana's album is that she desperately (perhaps pathetically) is in love with some dude (or the idea of some dude). A dude who works all day, comes home tired and who she looks after. She wants to dedicate her life to being with him and will do anything to please, to help etc. This is easier to understand when he's some labourer (i.e. in Video Games, this is what I imagine).
I can see why you'd think of Video Games as a clever wink to view on women, but I believe you're wrong. I believe Lana LOVES her life on the song. She loves to watch the dude play video games. She loves doing anything he does ("tell me all the things you wanna do") and is more than willing to dedicate her life to be with him. She doesn't think this is a waste ("[life is] only worth living if somebody is loving you") and I'm not convinced that she is wrong. If the meaning of your life is to dedicate it to someone and for there to be mutual love, then fine; sounds better than maths, eh? :p This is her choice and she can't possibly express misogyny via individual choice.
Also, I think the only reason Video Games is sad is because she hasn't found the man that she believes can bring her happiness (via dependance)
Ok. I'm maybe a little drunk but if you get my jist you can now extend this to the rest of her album. Except, she's rich, probs has loads of cool rich friend etc.
So, if you extend this idea to the rich and famous it leads to many problems! Your man doesn't need looking after and this leads to materialism, attention seeking and probs sadness. This defines many of her songs from her album.
Now I'm bored and tired. I think I stopped my argument earlier than I hoped. But basically, my thoughts are:
Dependance is a (not-that-crazy and certainly not individually sexist) choice.
Extension when rich => sadness.
Hmmmmmm... this is probs all poo."
Since I very much like it when people respond to my blog, I of course cannot pass up the chance to return to everyone's favourite Valley Girl once more.
I actually agree with a lot with what is said (not poo at all!), yet I feel your argument very openly undermines itself. I think you are right to say that equality means choice. I even agree that satisfaction can be found - and is found for a lot of people - in looking after others. It's a noble thing to do. However in the case of the Lana Del Rey character of the album, I feel she has disregarded herself in search of this. You're right, it is pathetic the amount she is devoted to him and how he doesn't reciprocate - it's not healthy for her. Though instead of acknowledging that she knows living this way isn't right, she maintains her position. She basically says living underneath a man is acceptable for her, and that message is what I find misogynistic. In my limited knowledge of the feminist movement, I'm pretty sure empowerment is a big thing! And that's before we counter in the fact she's loaded...
Then we reach a place of 'first world problems'. Oh no Lana! You're unsatisfied with the president boinking you!? Why don't you get a bad boy to take you downtown on his motorcycle instead? Oh, now you miss the rich older men objectifying you and buying you diamonds? I have a solution: You should definitely write an album of morbid songs about it. Then we shall all sympathise and buy it because you sound vaguely gangsta!
OK, I don't hate her that much. But you can see it doesn't take a lot to get you to that point. You have to take her with a pinch of salt to enjoy her music. Basically, dig the atmosphere but ignore the lyrics. It's a similar on the EP attached to the re-release of 'Born To Die', which I listened to because I'm dedicated to the blog! This is the second reason why I'm back on the Del Rey thought train.
Dubbed 'Born To Die - The Paradise Edition', the extension mostly offers more of the same, with a couple notable songs which suggest positive new directions. In general, the songs surge with a bit more drive despite the fact she's still riddled with the same problematic character. Her new single 'Ride' is enjoyable enough if you're into her already (though perhaps it's a bit too vocally challenging on the low parts), but the standouts come in the finale. 'Yayo' is a weird ethereal little song that suits her a lot, and while it's still about her running off with a bad boy, it's to escape the broken life she currently leads ("You have to take me now/From this dark trailer park/Life now"). It even has quite nice other lyrics! I enjoy "Hello Heaven/You are a tunnel lined with yellow lights/On a dark night" especially. 'Bel Air' has a catchy piano hook that masks a hidden depth, and is a promising end to a samey EP.
Of course, I hate a lot of it. The first line in 'Without You' is what put me off Lana Del Rey in the first place. "Everything I want I have/Money, notoriety, and rivieras" epitomises everything I hate about her. But evidently she fascinates me. I don't know what it is. I think it's to do with the potential she has to be brilliant, but the fact she squanders it with her persona and underdeveloped vocals. Her style may be what makes her for a lot of people, but I think it's what is holding her back.
Now, let us never talk of Lana Del Rey again.
Tara x
Firstly, I received this lengthy post from my friend Chris, a fan of Lana Del Rey who indirectly broke my last 'Born To Die' when he played the song 'Without You' (more on that later). It was in response to this blog that I posted on November 9th, discussing my thoughts on 'flash in the pan' artist Lana Del Rey. Here's what he posted:
"Ok! I've got Kate Nash on, I'm in my heels and I'm ready for Lana Del Ray discussions! The main point I wanna draw attention to is that feminism is about equality. Specifically important to my argument is that equality means choice.
The way I read Lana's album is that she desperately (perhaps pathetically) is in love with some dude (or the idea of some dude). A dude who works all day, comes home tired and who she looks after. She wants to dedicate her life to being with him and will do anything to please, to help etc. This is easier to understand when he's some labourer (i.e. in Video Games, this is what I imagine).
I can see why you'd think of Video Games as a clever wink to view on women, but I believe you're wrong. I believe Lana LOVES her life on the song. She loves to watch the dude play video games. She loves doing anything he does ("tell me all the things you wanna do") and is more than willing to dedicate her life to be with him. She doesn't think this is a waste ("[life is] only worth living if somebody is loving you") and I'm not convinced that she is wrong. If the meaning of your life is to dedicate it to someone and for there to be mutual love, then fine; sounds better than maths, eh? :p This is her choice and she can't possibly express misogyny via individual choice.
Also, I think the only reason Video Games is sad is because she hasn't found the man that she believes can bring her happiness (via dependance)
Ok. I'm maybe a little drunk but if you get my jist you can now extend this to the rest of her album. Except, she's rich, probs has loads of cool rich friend etc.
So, if you extend this idea to the rich and famous it leads to many problems! Your man doesn't need looking after and this leads to materialism, attention seeking and probs sadness. This defines many of her songs from her album.
Now I'm bored and tired. I think I stopped my argument earlier than I hoped. But basically, my thoughts are:
Dependance is a (not-that-crazy and certainly not individually sexist) choice.
Extension when rich => sadness.
Hmmmmmm... this is probs all poo."
Since I very much like it when people respond to my blog, I of course cannot pass up the chance to return to everyone's favourite Valley Girl once more.
I actually agree with a lot with what is said (not poo at all!), yet I feel your argument very openly undermines itself. I think you are right to say that equality means choice. I even agree that satisfaction can be found - and is found for a lot of people - in looking after others. It's a noble thing to do. However in the case of the Lana Del Rey character of the album, I feel she has disregarded herself in search of this. You're right, it is pathetic the amount she is devoted to him and how he doesn't reciprocate - it's not healthy for her. Though instead of acknowledging that she knows living this way isn't right, she maintains her position. She basically says living underneath a man is acceptable for her, and that message is what I find misogynistic. In my limited knowledge of the feminist movement, I'm pretty sure empowerment is a big thing! And that's before we counter in the fact she's loaded...
Then we reach a place of 'first world problems'. Oh no Lana! You're unsatisfied with the president boinking you!? Why don't you get a bad boy to take you downtown on his motorcycle instead? Oh, now you miss the rich older men objectifying you and buying you diamonds? I have a solution: You should definitely write an album of morbid songs about it. Then we shall all sympathise and buy it because you sound vaguely gangsta!
OK, I don't hate her that much. But you can see it doesn't take a lot to get you to that point. You have to take her with a pinch of salt to enjoy her music. Basically, dig the atmosphere but ignore the lyrics. It's a similar on the EP attached to the re-release of 'Born To Die', which I listened to because I'm dedicated to the blog! This is the second reason why I'm back on the Del Rey thought train.
Dubbed 'Born To Die - The Paradise Edition', the extension mostly offers more of the same, with a couple notable songs which suggest positive new directions. In general, the songs surge with a bit more drive despite the fact she's still riddled with the same problematic character. Her new single 'Ride' is enjoyable enough if you're into her already (though perhaps it's a bit too vocally challenging on the low parts), but the standouts come in the finale. 'Yayo' is a weird ethereal little song that suits her a lot, and while it's still about her running off with a bad boy, it's to escape the broken life she currently leads ("You have to take me now/From this dark trailer park/Life now"). It even has quite nice other lyrics! I enjoy "Hello Heaven/You are a tunnel lined with yellow lights/On a dark night" especially. 'Bel Air' has a catchy piano hook that masks a hidden depth, and is a promising end to a samey EP.
Now, let us never talk of Lana Del Rey again.
Tara x
Tuesday, 27 November 2012
BMDN - 'The Perks of Being a Wallflower' Review (Nov 27th)
Ohai there!
When the marketing folks at Summit Entertainment first sat down and watched 'The Perks of Being a Wallflower', Stephen Chbosky's film adaptation of his cult young adult novel, I'm not sure they knew what to do. What they had was a gem of a film that probably soared above their expectations of a precocious indie flick. A comedy drama about a 15-year-old dealing with extreme social anxiety problems and making friends with a flamboyantly gay senior and his step-sister, herself battling low self-esteem, is very understandably hard to market. So what they did was, on reflection, very clever indeed. The film was presented in the trailer and on buses as a 'Juno'-esque 'outsiders coming together' piece of Hollywood cheese that the studio knew people would go and watch. They then let the reviewers bring in the rest of the audience that would assume the film wasn't for them. And of course, having Emma Watson didn't hurt...
I must precede the rest of this review by saying that I absolutely love the film and its big earnest heart to bits, and it begins and ends with the three lead performances. Logan Lerman as protagonist Charlie is endearing from the very first scene, playing awkward innocence to perfection. His performance as he discovers a new social world, all the while fighting inner turmoil, is never anything but completely compelling. There's no sign that her time at Hogwarts has badly affected Emma Watson either, as both her grasp of character and American accent convince greatly. She manages to poignantly hint at the extent of Sam's bruises, and the chemistry between herself and Charlie is tender and somehow feels unique - despite the love interest long being a genre staple. And then there's Ezra Miller. Best known for playing the psychopathic titular character in Lynne Ramsay's 'We Need To Talk About Kevin', he could not be further away from that role, always having a zinger to toss into the mix to uplift situations - and the film. Miller's interpretation of Patrick is the perfect final cog in the trio, and his ability to mix high comedy with a grounded character is what helps the film hit its unique tone.
What is particularly impressive about 'The Perks of Being a Wallflower' is that it is always dancing on the edge of cliché and coming out triumphant. It shouldn't work - first loves, teen suicide, abuse, outcasts - but it just does. It's all because the movie is clearly a labour of love from director Chbosky, and he truly understands what being a teenager is like. Even the takes on things such as Patrick's homosexuality seem refreshing. What lines seem like clunkers in trailer ("Let's go be psychos together!"/"We accept the love we think we deserve.") ring true when contexualised and rolling off the tongues of the fine cast.
The film also has a wicked sense of humour - when you're not being touched, you're laughing. They're not afraid to go dark for laughs (a speech about Charlie wanting terminal cancer is blackly hilarious), and the repartee between the characters is always tinged in a gentle humour, especially when Patrick is around. It goes a long way in winning over the audience to invest in the more serious moments. During the second screening of the film I went to, the audience were even trying to laugh at the emotional moments, before the repercussions of them became apparent. The contrast between light and dark make the emotions felt by the viewer even more powerful.
And boy, does the film have an emotional gut punch towards the end. For someone who has read the book, and who knows the twist the film alludes to throughout, I felt a genuine sense of dread. Said twist comes off better in the film than in the book in this reviewers opinion, and when the moment comes, I was not the only person in the cinema shedding a tear or fifteen. That's a testament to the quality of the film. On the other end of the spectrum, the film has several moments of cinematic euphoria (I'm looking at you homecoming dance, and tunnel sequences). The movie works primarily as a visceral experience for the viewer, and since it's about teens and their heightened emotions, that's the way it should be.
If I really wanted to I could quibble. Some of the lines, while better in the film than the trailer, still come off a little clunky. Also, it can sometimes feel there's one trauma too many, and the final twist didn't hit me quite as hard on a second viewing (read: I didn't weep).
That's all a little redundant however, because 'The Perks of Being a Wallflower' is a beautiful film. This kind of thing won't seem like a lot of people's cup of tea, but the movie just resonates with you so strongly. So I cheer 'OMG best thing ever' along with the rest of the target demographic, and for those older folks, I'm sure there's a warm nostalgia to be found in Charlie's coming-of-age. Brilliant stuff.
*****
Tara x
Monday, 26 November 2012
BMDN - What's Your Nationality? (Nov 26th)
(Edits have been made to this post to reflect a change of opinion on reflection, and the fact that I sounded like an arse hole in the way I expressed that opinion. I apologise to anyone I may have offended.)
Ohai there!
Today I'm going to talk about identity, and not through films for once! Though just for the sake of dropping some films in here, I had a hungover watch of this gem recently:
COMEDY GOLD. An instant classic. Keeping my eyes peeled for the direct-to-video sequels: 'Bring It On Again', 'Bring It On: All or Nothing', 'Bring It On: In It to Win It', and 'Bring It On: Fight to the Finish'. But let us depart.
People often ask both officially and unofficially what nationality you are. And there always seems to be three pertinent answers for me to choose from: Scottish, British or Shetland. The other larger options such as European or 'citizen of the world' sound too vague or hippyish to be taken seriously by anyone.
I must say I do have an answer to this. My go to is Scottish, and here's why...
Though I was born in Shetland, my parents are from Glasgow and Dundee, two major Scottish cities. I never grew up with a Shetland speaker in my house, and while my parents were decently integrated into the Shetland community (my dad being a bartender helped), I feel me being a full-blown Shetlander is sort of hindered by the fact I'm not a Jamieson or a Moncrieff or an Irvine.
I love where I'm from - the fellow Shetlanders I associate with are nothing but kind, accepting and fun. I do feel there is a certain exclusivity that exists within a small subset of people in the Shetland community that I find off-putting. Because my family's name doesn't go back generations, I'm never going to get an automatic invite to an Up-Helly-Aa hall or nip up to Skeld for some red tins. A lot of me not feeling solely a Shetlander is I think also to do with my stereotyped view of who a Shetlander is, which is my misgiving, not the misgiving of the actual populace. I don't know what it is, but when I hear 'Shetlander', I think to fisherman and crofters (nothing wrong with this, just not me), not the other Shetlanders I see on a day-to-day basis. Perhaps someone could enlighten me as to why I might feel that way, a way which I know is inaccurate? Am I putting too much weight on history when it comes to national identity?
Exclusivity did come up when we made the documentary about poverty, social exclusion and inequality in Shetland earlier this year:
Ohai there!
Today I'm going to talk about identity, and not through films for once! Though just for the sake of dropping some films in here, I had a hungover watch of this gem recently:
COMEDY GOLD. An instant classic. Keeping my eyes peeled for the direct-to-video sequels: 'Bring It On Again', 'Bring It On: All or Nothing', 'Bring It On: In It to Win It', and 'Bring It On: Fight to the Finish'. But let us depart.
People often ask both officially and unofficially what nationality you are. And there always seems to be three pertinent answers for me to choose from: Scottish, British or Shetland. The other larger options such as European or 'citizen of the world' sound too vague or hippyish to be taken seriously by anyone.
I must say I do have an answer to this. My go to is Scottish, and here's why...
Though I was born in Shetland, my parents are from Glasgow and Dundee, two major Scottish cities. I never grew up with a Shetland speaker in my house, and while my parents were decently integrated into the Shetland community (my dad being a bartender helped), I feel me being a full-blown Shetlander is sort of hindered by the fact I'm not a Jamieson or a Moncrieff or an Irvine.
I love where I'm from - the fellow Shetlanders I associate with are nothing but kind, accepting and fun. I do feel there is a certain exclusivity that exists within a small subset of people in the Shetland community that I find off-putting. Because my family's name doesn't go back generations, I'm never going to get an automatic invite to an Up-Helly-Aa hall or nip up to Skeld for some red tins. A lot of me not feeling solely a Shetlander is I think also to do with my stereotyped view of who a Shetlander is, which is my misgiving, not the misgiving of the actual populace. I don't know what it is, but when I hear 'Shetlander', I think to fisherman and crofters (nothing wrong with this, just not me), not the other Shetlanders I see on a day-to-day basis. Perhaps someone could enlighten me as to why I might feel that way, a way which I know is inaccurate? Am I putting too much weight on history when it comes to national identity?
Exclusivity did come up when we made the documentary about poverty, social exclusion and inequality in Shetland earlier this year:
So that's why I don't feel like a Shetlander, despite how great Shetland is in general. The reason I don't feel British is largely political. We live under a government at the moment whose ideals I strongly disagree with, and I feel a British identity ties me to those ideals, as well as other things I disapprove of like the monarchy. I don't love the world's associations with being typically British, therefore I don't feel British.
But I do feel Scottish. It's a happy medium between the small and the broad. Scotland has this grit, and unwavering patriotism no matter what state we find ourselves in that I find very charming. It's your associations (and maybe stereotypes) with being a certain nationality that is the definitive factor for me. Home is where your heart is!
So while I may not be this guy...
...I do feel like a true Scot.
Tara x
The inspiration for this came from my friend Louise who's doing a project on national identity. If anyone that's not her quotes me for the same project, I will sue! And find out where you live.
Saturday, 24 November 2012
BMDN - It's Like Christmas Came Early (Nov 23rd)
Ohai there!
I'm feeling awfully merry today. I don't know what it is, but I just want to sing! I think it might be something adrighdl... something sdfgjhdfg.... something to do with...
ON THE FIRST DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TRUE LOVE SAID TO ME
Hold it one hot second. It's the 23rd of November. Why am I hearing the faint bells of a certain bearded gentlemen? Because we are understandably obsessed with Christmas as a country, and I feel that it is because of this, we will ruin it for ourselves.
Imagine the holiday as the epicentre of all joy in the world. It is incredibly concentrated on one momentous day, with a serious glow attached to its two neighbours. Now imagine that epicentre being yanked and yanked and yanked in all directions until the joy is so spread out that nobody can even remember why we're supposed to be happy anymore.
I'm really not a Scrooge when it comes to xmas. I love it just as much as the next person: the presents, family coming together, great food, the presents. My 6-year-old self devolved into hysterical cackling on the floor on Christmas Eve because I was so excited for Santa's arrival! I'm just concerned we're gonna make it not as special anymore at this rate. I suppose no matter if we started getting ready for festivities in May, no one could truly ruin Christmas. I even understand why people think starting celebrations earlier would add morale to what are trying times at the moment. If only it weren't just to sell a stack load of shit.
Supermarkets wait at the starting line on the 31st of October, waiting for the pesky monsters to shimmy on by so they can set up consumerist shrines to ol' Saint Nic. It makes me feel sad that they're exploiting such a joyous time for mucho dinero, but even worse that I have to see reindeer trying to sell acer aspires on the 5th of November (leave it to Megan Fox). This time of year is all about warmth, and I don't feel the heat radiating from Tesco's cold heart.
Despite my hypocritical anti-capitalist ramblings, and the fact that we're not even in the 12th month yet, I can't deny my excitement for Christmas. I know it's going to be wonderful. It always is. Play us out Ella...
I'm feeling awfully merry today. I don't know what it is, but I just want to sing! I think it might be something adrighdl... something sdfgjhdfg.... something to do with...
ON THE FIRST DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TRUE LOVE SAID TO ME
Hold it one hot second. It's the 23rd of November. Why am I hearing the faint bells of a certain bearded gentlemen? Because we are understandably obsessed with Christmas as a country, and I feel that it is because of this, we will ruin it for ourselves.
Imagine the holiday as the epicentre of all joy in the world. It is incredibly concentrated on one momentous day, with a serious glow attached to its two neighbours. Now imagine that epicentre being yanked and yanked and yanked in all directions until the joy is so spread out that nobody can even remember why we're supposed to be happy anymore.
I'm really not a Scrooge when it comes to xmas. I love it just as much as the next person: the presents, family coming together, great food, the presents. My 6-year-old self devolved into hysterical cackling on the floor on Christmas Eve because I was so excited for Santa's arrival! I'm just concerned we're gonna make it not as special anymore at this rate. I suppose no matter if we started getting ready for festivities in May, no one could truly ruin Christmas. I even understand why people think starting celebrations earlier would add morale to what are trying times at the moment. If only it weren't just to sell a stack load of shit.
Supermarkets wait at the starting line on the 31st of October, waiting for the pesky monsters to shimmy on by so they can set up consumerist shrines to ol' Saint Nic. It makes me feel sad that they're exploiting such a joyous time for mucho dinero, but even worse that I have to see reindeer trying to sell acer aspires on the 5th of November (leave it to Megan Fox). This time of year is all about warmth, and I don't feel the heat radiating from Tesco's cold heart.
Despite my hypocritical anti-capitalist ramblings, and the fact that we're not even in the 12th month yet, I can't deny my excitement for Christmas. I know it's going to be wonderful. It always is. Play us out Ella...
Tara x
31 days till Christmas/my 18th... oh, did I forget to mention I'm the Messiah. JC signing out.
Wednesday, 21 November 2012
BMDN - Lynch and his Ladies (Nov 21st)
Ohai there!
So, in case you all didn't know, I'm a dropout. Not a proper one mind you - just a 6th year dropout. There was something I clung onto longer than the rest though, and that was my english dissertation on the subject of how director David Lynch portrays the American Dream as unattainable through his female characters. I was intending to use three of Lynch's films - 'Blue Velvet', 'Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me', and 'Mulholland Drive' to explore the idea but didn't quite get that far.
Though I did write quite a bit on the subject of 'Blue Velvet' and I thought it would be a shame to let it go stale on my hard drive, so I'm sharing what I managed to get written today. So without further ado, my incomplete dissertation.
(NOTE: IT CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR 'BLUE VELVET'.)
So, in case you all didn't know, I'm a dropout. Not a proper one mind you - just a 6th year dropout. There was something I clung onto longer than the rest though, and that was my english dissertation on the subject of how director David Lynch portrays the American Dream as unattainable through his female characters. I was intending to use three of Lynch's films - 'Blue Velvet', 'Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me', and 'Mulholland Drive' to explore the idea but didn't quite get that far.
Though I did write quite a bit on the subject of 'Blue Velvet' and I thought it would be a shame to let it go stale on my hard drive, so I'm sharing what I managed to get written today. So without further ado, my incomplete dissertation.
(NOTE: IT CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS FOR 'BLUE VELVET'.)
---
While David Lynch’s diverse filmography contains many recurring elements - notions of good and evil, meticulous sound design, a dream-like sensibility - there is perhaps none more fascinating than his portrayal of American society. Offering nightmarish visions of suburbia, idyllic small towns, and hope-filled metropolis’, the director soared to popularity by utilising his unique surrealist vision as a subtle critique of life in the USA. The unifying factor in his four-decade film career, however, is not the places but their inhabitants. The typical “Lynchian” characters will toy with the American dream: some embracing it fully; some being soured by its shortfalls; and some abusing it for their own nefarious purposes. This cannot be see more clearly than in his women. Presenting an intriguing blend of innocence and corruption with his female characters, they are always profoundly affected by their environment and the sensitivities of living in such a pristine culture. The very fact that his female roles suffer similar plights despite their diversity only reinforces this fact. Within Blue Velvet (1986), Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me (1992) and Mulholland Drive (2001) there are takes on the 50s femme fatale, drug-addled homecoming queens, and aspiring starlets who all suffer in their attempts at the American dream. It would seem Lynch believes they were destined to fail. The land of the free he portrays is a society whose ideals are fundamentally unattainable due to, ironically, the nature of life in the country itself. This paradox provides inspiration for some of the thematic and cinematic qualities that make David Lynch’s films so surreally compelling.
Having achieved art house success with his debut feature Eraserhead (1977), Lynch eventually broke through commercially in the 80s with his much respected The Elephant Man (1980), garnering numerous prestigious award nominations. Following the failure of his next project, the epic Dune (1984), Lynch expressed a desire to return to a more personal film-making. The result was Blue Velvet - the tale of a nightclub singer tormented by a gangster whom is holding her family hostage. The film tapped into the national psyche, offering a warped view of Americana in which the kept suburban veneer is shattered, revealing an underworld of crime and abuse. It centres on Jeffery Beaumont (played by Kyle MacLachlan), a college student returned to his humble home of Lumberton in order to see his ailing father. When he finds an ear on the way back from the hospital, he begins to investigate with sweet high school student Sandy (Laura Dern). Their sleuthing leads them to torch singer Dorothy Vallens (Isabella Rossellini), and from here Jeffery he is drawn into the illicit circumstances of her life. Vallens is living under the thumb of the psychopathic Frank Booth (Dennis Hopper), who has kidnapped her husband and son in order to gain sexual favours. He forces her to engage in unsettling acts of emotional exploitation and sadomasochism to the revulsion of Beaumont, whose obsession with her results in a physical relationship and an unhappy Booth. During the climax of the film, after Frank has intimidated Jeffery through violence and substance abuse, the protagonist hides from the gun-wielding villain in the closet where he first witnessed Dorothy’s molestation. He manages to eventually trick Booth and shoots him in the head, killing him. The film closes on a montage where Dorothy is reunited with her son.
Blue Velvet bestows Rossellini’s character much thematic significance. She is clearly the victim of an irrepressible society: a society which allows her to be humiliated, degraded and taken advantage of. By explicitly showing the criminal underworld of quaint Lumberton, and all its bizarre characters, a stark contrast is created between the suburban dream and harsh reality. The beautiful homes are built on foundations of evil and corruption. This is the basis on which Lynch’s embellishments - his casting decisions, locations, symbolism, commentary - lay, and Dorothy Vallens is the result of an America which attempts to paint over its appalling problems.
Of the film, Lynch had this to say:
“This is the way America is to me. There’s a very innocent, naive quality to life, and there’s a horror and a sickness as well. It’s everything. Blue Velvet is a very American movie. The look of it was inspired by my childhood in Spokane, Washington.” - Lynch
Within the movie the contrast between “a very innocent, naive quality to life” and “a horror and a sickness” transcends even the plot, the very film itself being a constant struggle between an enjoyable romantic movie and a dark exposé on the beaten and forgotten. This is best epitomised when looking at the environments of the two female leads. Sandy seems to appear in “American approved” locations such as high school, Arlene’s diner or house parties; as opposed to Dorothy’s seedy clubs, dingy apartment building or weird brothels/drug dens. Where Sandy has to deal with trivial issues such as troubles with her boyfriend, Dorothy has to come to terms with rape and the abduction of her family.
How does Lynch create these two different worlds? A pertinent example is the film’s opening. It begins with a tilt shot from the picturesque blue sky down to a white picket fence protecting a bed of blood red roses. The image is very saturated and colourful, perpetuating the clean suburban paradise one has come to expect. This is then succeeded by numerous shots of everyday life in Lumberton (schoolchildren crossing the road, men waving from passing trucks) scored by an upbeat version of the song ‘Blue Velvet’. Through these cinematic choices, a certain message is conveyed: that this simple suburb is one to be idolised. This set-up lends itself well to the irony about to follow, and pre-emptively justifies the naivety of Sandy’s character and curiosity of Jeffery in a very succinct manner. Living in a closed garden of white picket fences had meant its inhabitants have little knowledge of what lurks just beneath them.
With this established, Lynch’s directorial flourishes begin to set in and the contrast becomes evident. While hosing down the garden, Jeffery’s father has the collapse which sets the film in motion. In the suburban world this is a tragedy, and and the director cleverly uses the idea of tragedy to connect this world to that of the criminals, where tragedy is commonplace. From the dropped hose the camera moves on a dolly through the grass, finally settling on a dim shot of black beetles burrowing through the earth. This is part of the bug motif which recurs often throughout the film, but is used each time in different contexts. It is clear that the pests symbolise members of the criminal underworld, that need to be exterminated through brute force. Bugs are reviled by most, yet they are inconspicuous and commonplace. They are also part of the national ecosystem, much like organised crime.
Yet it is not just sequences, but many cinematic elements that support Dorothy and Sandy as the leads of their own very different pieces. There is Angelo Badalamenti’s score, which offers luscious Hollywood classic string cues to Sandy’s scenes, and almost goofy cymbal and double bass investigation music as she schemes with Jeffery in Arlene’s diner - the film, like America, unwilling to take their plight seriously. The use of pop music also gives a modern feel. Dern is dressed in typically teenage clothes such as homely pink jumpers, her blonde hair adding to her “girl next door” image. Dorothy is portrayed amorously throughout.
Dorothy's portrayal is thematically of note, and the subject of much debate amongst Lynch’s critics. Dorothy Vallen’s power exists solely in her sexuality. It is the only reason her husband and child are still alive, though were she not attractive her family would perhaps not be put through such strife. Due to this fact, she has gained a twisted view of sex grown from a personal resentment. This is displayed in her desire to be demeaned during sexual acts (ie. commanding Jeffery to “Hit me!”) and taking pleasure when she is abated. The brutalised Dorothy uses her sexuality to manipulate power dynamics. When she first discovers Jeffery in her closet and assumes it is so he can watch her undress, she instructs him himself to “get undressed!” thus she feels in control of the situation. It is a comment on the inherent sexism existing within America - that women are sexualised and seen as objects, toys, and in an unsettling sadomasochistic scene with Frank, mothers, on which we can leech. When her tormenter grasps the strip of blue velvet from her dress as she sings in the club, it shows he owns her. Her objectification is a direct contradiction to the ideals of equal opportunity for every person that the US purports.
Whether the auteur’s work is deemed satirical or celebratory it is clear examining sex is a part of his search for a more personal film-making:
“Certain aspects of sex are troubling - the way it’s used as power, for instance, or the way it takes the form of perversions that exploit other people. Those things are not good, but I think a lot of people find them a real kick and it’s a fairly common sort of behaviour.” - Lynch
That he believes sexual perversions are quite universal is antithetical to what is portrayed in the film. In fact, in what appears to be satire, he equates the odd characters with the dangerous and unstable. Throughout the film, the unusual character’s are seen as corruptive. Dorothy, Frank, and his entourage (including Ben, in light drag) are all unconventional people who’s behaviour is seen to be irrational, psychotic or destructive. Even the voyeuristic tendencies of Jeffery are subdued by his straight-laced values. It would appear Lynch is commenting on the way Americans view people who do no fit the mould that the tight spectrum of the American Dream allows. Aspects such as the casting of Italian Rossellini and the feminine qualities of the male characters detach them from ‘typical citizens’, so are seen as an assault on the average way of life. The characters are actively portrayed as violent. In perhaps the movie’s most surreal scene Ben lip-synchs to a performance of Roy Orbson’s ‘In Dreams’. The scene is hypnotic in its dreaminess, and after the viewer is charmed, the character lands a brutal punch to Jeffery’s stomach. We are encouraged not to be seduced by oddities, to instead clutch on to traditional ways and moral standards.
---
Tara x
Tuesday, 20 November 2012
BMDN - Is Honesty The Best Policy? (Nov 20th)
Ohai there!
There are some social conventions I will just never get my head around. One that drives me crazy is when people refuse to either open or close a window on a bus despite ridiculous conditions. I was once tootling home when Shetland was again blessed with its omnipresent horizontal rain. The window (which was very far away from me) remained open for TEN MINUTES in freezing temperatures before somebody decided it was maybe time to keep the heat in. On the bright side, I didn't need the shower when I got home.
But one of the main problems I have is what I want to discuss today - what I can't cope with is pussy-footing around issues. Our culture has an awful problem with not facing things head on (see: every political issue) as, though we are excellent at talking about how we're going to face things head on, things tend to buckle when it's time to put your money where your mouth is. The same exists in day to day life. If we're unhappy about something, we tend to let it fester typical because we're fearful of what dealing with it would involve. This eventually leads to unhealthy outlets, for example incessant bitching, as well as a whole load of worry for all involved as the things bottled up intensify and increasingly fill. Or you just leave nasty anonymous messages on spillit.
That is why I've always taken pride in the fact that I am an honest person. If I have a problem with something or someone, 90% of the time I will confront it. But is that really a good thing? In my eyes, being honest about how you feel is one of the most liberating things you can do, as long as there are not serious consequences to your honesty. And I'm not just honest when problems arise, it's all the time. Let me use the latest 'Twilight' film as an example. Coming out and saying it bluntly, I think the franchise is mostly a pile of shit used to squeeze money out of insecure teenage girls. When customers and colleagues talk about how much they enjoy 'Twilight' the books and Stephanie Meyer's 'writing', I don't agree with them and pick out aspects I also like as would be polite, I smile and nod and say nothing. Because you can't be dishonest when you give nothing away.
Occasionally, when friend's ask my advice and I don't sugar coat the truth (which is the bane of being really honest), my bluntness can come across as rude. It's a similar case when I feel strongly about something. What I'm curious about is if the end justify the means?
I am legitimately interested to know what you think.
Tara x
P.S. - Tell you what stupid social convention I do abide by...
Occasionally, when friend's ask my advice and I don't sugar coat the truth (which is the bane of being really honest), my bluntness can come across as rude. It's a similar case when I feel strongly about something. What I'm curious about is if the end justify the means?
I am legitimately interested to know what you think.
Tara x
P.S. - Tell you what stupid social convention I do abide by...
Monday, 19 November 2012
BMDN - Reassessing Films Through Head Stomping (Nov 19th)
Ohai there!
Legend says that there was a time different to the rest. A forgotten time etched in the pages of history forever. Dark unrepentant days. Of course the people hustled along as usual, trying to mask the weight they felt on the very essence of their souls. Yet, the horror was undeniable. Some believed the 16th of November 2012 was the end of humanity - the Mayan-predicted apocalypse come 35 days early. For that date the world received no pop culture evaluations, nor artistic recommendations, nor general life musings from Joe Christie. It was the day BEDN failed.
Now - a song for reflection:
Finished? Now the mourning period is over, I would like to re-introduce you to the project. What I'm now dubbing BMDN (Blog Most Days in November) will be what persists throughout the rest of the month, but do not fret. I still aim to bring you a blog every day this month, the name change is just a samurai-esque acknowledgement of my failure. Now the metaphorical elephant in the room has been shot (à la George Orwell), lets move on to todays topic.
REASSESSING FILMS
Have you ever watched a film that you hated but then went on to love? Or vice versa?
I can't remember off the top of my head if I've experienced such a polarised change of view, but there are plenty of times a film has gotten under my skin and slowly grown right to the top of my esteem. I think moving from love to hate is unusual, because I feel that to truly be able to love a piece of art, a fully committed statement must be made. Whether the statement is controversial or not is a factor, paramount also is how well the statement is made, and how earnestly it is presented. Deep down though you'll either inherently like that statement, or you'll think it's a piece of shit and make a judgement based on that.
For me, there are plenty of reasons that you can slowly begin to love a film that you initially deemed below expectation, or even sub-par. Age is a big factor. I remember watching the Pedro Almodóvar film 'All About My Mother' on Film 4 when I was about 12 and it completely went over my head to the extent that I couldn't even recall the basics of the plot to you now. It was an overwhelmingly adult experience. Similarly, I think experience itself (connected to age) is very important. I really really liked 2012 Oscar contender 'The Descendants', but my mother, having gone through a similar experience to George Clooney's character in the film actually had to turn it off. Alexander Payne's movie resonated too strongly with her, and altered her enjoyment and interpretation of said art as a result. But perhaps this emotional gut punch means the movie would be deemed successful as a result? I suppose its a matter of opinion.´
Before, I run off to tangent land as I almost did there, I want to use Nicolas Winding Refn's neo-noir thriller 'Drive' as an example. The problem with my initial viewing was both circumstance and the film itself. This is not personal circumstance as described above, but physical. I was tired and grouchy! And I was watching the film under a massive blanket far away from the tiny screen. The moody intricacies of the film never really stood a chance! When I say the problem was the film itself, I don't mean that the film was problematic, I mean that the film's nature is very subtle behind the very unsubtle graphic violence, and it's hard to notice thus appreciate on a first viewing. When you get past the wrist slashing, it's a very beautiful film. Also, I had never stomped a man to death the first time I saw 'Drive', so the second time I understood the emotional implications much better...
I jest, but the following scene epitomises everything I adored about 'Drive' on a second viewing - deceptively simple, earnest character moments drenched in style and cool:
Wonderfully atmospheric. Slow motion. Silent. A pulsating score. All used to pre-empt the moment Gosling's driver knows he's corrupted the relationship forever. But he still needs that one moment of emotional honesty before everything goes to shit. Brilliant stuff!
So, 'Drive' is my example of liked on first viewing; loved on second. What's yours? Do you disagree with me, in that there's a film you've gone from loving to loathing or vice versa? Please let me know.
It's good to get this show back on the road guys, and I just want to say thank you for continuing to read. This shit's fun!
To play us out, another gem from the 'Drive' soundtrack:
Tara x
Legend says that there was a time different to the rest. A forgotten time etched in the pages of history forever. Dark unrepentant days. Of course the people hustled along as usual, trying to mask the weight they felt on the very essence of their souls. Yet, the horror was undeniable. Some believed the 16th of November 2012 was the end of humanity - the Mayan-predicted apocalypse come 35 days early. For that date the world received no pop culture evaluations, nor artistic recommendations, nor general life musings from Joe Christie. It was the day BEDN failed.
Now - a song for reflection:
Finished? Now the mourning period is over, I would like to re-introduce you to the project. What I'm now dubbing BMDN (Blog Most Days in November) will be what persists throughout the rest of the month, but do not fret. I still aim to bring you a blog every day this month, the name change is just a samurai-esque acknowledgement of my failure. Now the metaphorical elephant in the room has been shot (à la George Orwell), lets move on to todays topic.
REASSESSING FILMS
Have you ever watched a film that you hated but then went on to love? Or vice versa?
I can't remember off the top of my head if I've experienced such a polarised change of view, but there are plenty of times a film has gotten under my skin and slowly grown right to the top of my esteem. I think moving from love to hate is unusual, because I feel that to truly be able to love a piece of art, a fully committed statement must be made. Whether the statement is controversial or not is a factor, paramount also is how well the statement is made, and how earnestly it is presented. Deep down though you'll either inherently like that statement, or you'll think it's a piece of shit and make a judgement based on that.
For me, there are plenty of reasons that you can slowly begin to love a film that you initially deemed below expectation, or even sub-par. Age is a big factor. I remember watching the Pedro Almodóvar film 'All About My Mother' on Film 4 when I was about 12 and it completely went over my head to the extent that I couldn't even recall the basics of the plot to you now. It was an overwhelmingly adult experience. Similarly, I think experience itself (connected to age) is very important. I really really liked 2012 Oscar contender 'The Descendants', but my mother, having gone through a similar experience to George Clooney's character in the film actually had to turn it off. Alexander Payne's movie resonated too strongly with her, and altered her enjoyment and interpretation of said art as a result. But perhaps this emotional gut punch means the movie would be deemed successful as a result? I suppose its a matter of opinion.´
Before, I run off to tangent land as I almost did there, I want to use Nicolas Winding Refn's neo-noir thriller 'Drive' as an example. The problem with my initial viewing was both circumstance and the film itself. This is not personal circumstance as described above, but physical. I was tired and grouchy! And I was watching the film under a massive blanket far away from the tiny screen. The moody intricacies of the film never really stood a chance! When I say the problem was the film itself, I don't mean that the film was problematic, I mean that the film's nature is very subtle behind the very unsubtle graphic violence, and it's hard to notice thus appreciate on a first viewing. When you get past the wrist slashing, it's a very beautiful film. Also, I had never stomped a man to death the first time I saw 'Drive', so the second time I understood the emotional implications much better...
I jest, but the following scene epitomises everything I adored about 'Drive' on a second viewing - deceptively simple, earnest character moments drenched in style and cool:
Wonderfully atmospheric. Slow motion. Silent. A pulsating score. All used to pre-empt the moment Gosling's driver knows he's corrupted the relationship forever. But he still needs that one moment of emotional honesty before everything goes to shit. Brilliant stuff!
So, 'Drive' is my example of liked on first viewing; loved on second. What's yours? Do you disagree with me, in that there's a film you've gone from loving to loathing or vice versa? Please let me know.
It's good to get this show back on the road guys, and I just want to say thank you for continuing to read. This shit's fun!
To play us out, another gem from the 'Drive' soundtrack:
Tara x
Friday, 16 November 2012
BEDN - And the winner is... Helena Bonham Carter! (Nov 15th)
Ohai there!
As a result of the current promotional blitz for the film adaptation of 'Les Misérables', I saw Helena Bonham Carter's sullen face glaring back at me. You know the look, the 'I'm going to flay you alive... and I think you're going to like it' stare. Looking into those penetrating eyes, I was reminded of her award acceptance speech at the 2011 BAFTAs, which ranks amongst my favourite awards speeches of all times, even if it's not the most flashy. Before we go any further, take a look:
Heart-warming, eh? Though most wouldn't deem it an instant classic. It's not well-rehearsed, flashy, or particularly clever. But you know what it is? Honest. And honesty trumps all.
There was a point in time where I was totally dedicated to becoming an actor, and I think Helena's speech, really dug at the heart of the profession. She herself is a somewhat ridiculous caricature (along with her hubby Tim) and in a wonderfully meta-moment she manages to mock the ludicrous lives that actors lead and still make it sound like the most appealing thing to do. You have to be a very special kind of person to be able to straddle the divide in such a pressure cooker environment. I am not that person.
She rambles and stumbles as much as the film husband, which only adds to the feeling of earnestness. Her jokes seem off-the-cuff, and she is bursting with charisma. It's a very real speech.
That's all I really wanted to say, as I feel stretching this out more would make this blog too close to its source material. So, I like Helena Bonham Carter: Resident Nut. She still killed George though.
Tara x
P.S.
My favourite HBC performance is actually from a BBC TV movie called 'Toast', where she played the stepmother of a teenage Nigel Slater. Well worth a look if you can find it - tasty drama.
We're halfway through BEDN! I've really enjoyed doing it so far, and I hope to be more exciting in the next few days (probs after tomorrow though, that's not gonna be great.) Keep yourselves involved!
There was a point in time where I was totally dedicated to becoming an actor, and I think Helena's speech, really dug at the heart of the profession. She herself is a somewhat ridiculous caricature (along with her hubby Tim) and in a wonderfully meta-moment she manages to mock the ludicrous lives that actors lead and still make it sound like the most appealing thing to do. You have to be a very special kind of person to be able to straddle the divide in such a pressure cooker environment. I am not that person.
She rambles and stumbles as much as the film husband, which only adds to the feeling of earnestness. Her jokes seem off-the-cuff, and she is bursting with charisma. It's a very real speech.
That's all I really wanted to say, as I feel stretching this out more would make this blog too close to its source material. So, I like Helena Bonham Carter: Resident Nut. She still killed George though.
Tara x
P.S.
My favourite HBC performance is actually from a BBC TV movie called 'Toast', where she played the stepmother of a teenage Nigel Slater. Well worth a look if you can find it - tasty drama.
We're halfway through BEDN! I've really enjoyed doing it so far, and I hope to be more exciting in the next few days (probs after tomorrow though, that's not gonna be great.) Keep yourselves involved!
Thursday, 15 November 2012
BEDN - Life After The Moment (Nov 14th)
Ohai there!
First off an apology to you all! I didn't post yesterday because I was in Sand after seeing the new film adaptation of Jack Kerouac's 'On The Road', and Sand is not a place for blogging. Sand is a place for speaking shite over E4 American sitcoms at 1am. So, I'm sorry for not providing the consistency you must so crave. But double the fun today!
I did actually try and and do a blog from Sand yesterday, in fact it's sitting in my drafts as a failure! It was Lauren's angry reaction to the film and why she thinks it ruins the Beats for the new generation. You'll never know!
For now, I offer you a brief stimulating conversation with Ailish Parham about the future:
Are you scared of the future?
Yes.
Why is that?
I want to be successful and I worry that I won't be, and I want to do something with my life now. I'm scared I won't be able to have a good standard of living compared to my decently well-off life at the moment. I don't want to be a no one and remain stagnant in Shetland.
What would you define as successful?
Because I've grown up in a business background, I feel for me successful would be having a really good job and a good lifestyle.
Would you accept that there are other kinds of success?
Yes.
Do you value other kinds of success such as family and friends?
I think you're successful as long as your helping people. It's just the environment I grew up in that gave me these definitions.
I have 2 scenarios for the future: I travel the world poor and see so many places and I'm enriched because of it. The other is about security - the traditional plan.
Would lack of security put you off travel?
It wouldn't be forever though - it's not a job. It's something that I would love to do.
Would you leave an unfulfilling job to travel?
I would do it. It's something I've always wanted to do, and it wouldn't be mundane like a job might. There wouldn't be the normal things like bills to take into consideration. There's this thing called 'work-aways', where local residents employs travellers to do things and in return you receive free accommodation and it majorly reduces costs.
What's your mantra for the future?
I always hear people saying to live for the moment, but I always have in the back of my mind what I'll be doing in 5 years time. Live for the moment, but the odds are your probably going to be living after the moment - so do something about it.
Thanks Ailish!
Tara x
First off an apology to you all! I didn't post yesterday because I was in Sand after seeing the new film adaptation of Jack Kerouac's 'On The Road', and Sand is not a place for blogging. Sand is a place for speaking shite over E4 American sitcoms at 1am. So, I'm sorry for not providing the consistency you must so crave. But double the fun today!
I did actually try and and do a blog from Sand yesterday, in fact it's sitting in my drafts as a failure! It was Lauren's angry reaction to the film and why she thinks it ruins the Beats for the new generation. You'll never know!
For now, I offer you a brief stimulating conversation with Ailish Parham about the future:
Are you scared of the future?
Yes.
Why is that?
I want to be successful and I worry that I won't be, and I want to do something with my life now. I'm scared I won't be able to have a good standard of living compared to my decently well-off life at the moment. I don't want to be a no one and remain stagnant in Shetland.
What would you define as successful?
Because I've grown up in a business background, I feel for me successful would be having a really good job and a good lifestyle.
Would you accept that there are other kinds of success?
Yes.
Do you value other kinds of success such as family and friends?
I think you're successful as long as your helping people. It's just the environment I grew up in that gave me these definitions.
I have 2 scenarios for the future: I travel the world poor and see so many places and I'm enriched because of it. The other is about security - the traditional plan.
Would lack of security put you off travel?
It wouldn't be forever though - it's not a job. It's something that I would love to do.
Would you leave an unfulfilling job to travel?
I would do it. It's something I've always wanted to do, and it wouldn't be mundane like a job might. There wouldn't be the normal things like bills to take into consideration. There's this thing called 'work-aways', where local residents employs travellers to do things and in return you receive free accommodation and it majorly reduces costs.
What's your mantra for the future?
I always hear people saying to live for the moment, but I always have in the back of my mind what I'll be doing in 5 years time. Live for the moment, but the odds are your probably going to be living after the moment - so do something about it.
Thanks Ailish!
Tara x
Tuesday, 13 November 2012
BEDN - Baking Ticketzzzzz... (Nov 13th)
Ohai there!
Today at work, I asked a customer if they wanted to bake some tickets.
In the spirit of this, let's talk about all the hilarious things people have decided to bake...
NOT REALLY. But man would that not make for once excellent blog.
Let's talk about the reason I did it. I asked a lovely, not-at-all twihard middle-aged woman if she would like to book tickets for 'Breaking Dawn', but I managed to somehow slur together 'book' and 'break' because I was drunk on the job. NOT REALLY. Man, full of twists and turns today. I was actually just super tired, and for me becoming linguistically challenged is just one of the side effects. Others include going to do something and forgetting what halfway there, forgetting what I'm saying mid-sentence, violent mood swings, and extreme cynicism. It seems everyone is really tired all the time now, myself included. Last year I would go five days a week on about 7 hours and catch-up on the weekend. But what are the long-term repercussions you may ask? I don't know. But let's find out together!
So, the many effects caused by sleep deprivation range from yawning to psychosis-like symptoms. They include aching muscles, confusion, memory loss, depression, sensitivity to the cold, irritability, periorbital puffiness (eye bags), increased risk of diabetes, obesity, and nystagmus (rapid involuntary rhythmic eye movement). Of these I most commonly suffer memory loss, irritability, and nystagmus - which I often get when I'm stressed or angry. It's good I now have something else to blame it on!
So those are terrifying. Yet me, along with countless others simply don't go to bed. I love sleeping, but avoid my memory foam cocoon till the last possible moment of reason. It's perplexing, as sleep is the one thing I go crazy over: I silently plan the death of those who wake everyone up early after staying over; I cling for dear life to my sheets until the nordic fishing news from Mr SIBC warns me that I'm in bus-missing territory, and I wandered the streets of Amsterdam at 1am as an alternative to smothering my snoring father to death with a pillow.
The problem, I think, is the YOLO mentality. Things seem much harsher at 7.45am than they do at midnight. After 15 'oh just one more video then I'll brush my teeth's, the time has sped by with very detrimental results. I'm a bit of an insomniac anyway, but the invention of YouTube is my true downfall. Even when you do manage to drag yourself to bed at a reasonable hour, it's normally for a reason that keeps your mind racing for hours on end. I have regularly attempted to sleep exhausted, but ironically been kept awaking thinking about the things that have made me exhausted.
What do we do? *consults google*
Cry yourself to sleep! Oh... NOT REALLY... apparently that's just me.
Take a warm bath. Exercise during the day. Avoid drugs. Keep regular a regular sleeping pattern.
That's the general online consensus, and it sounds pretty good. I'll also give you my tuppence. Sort out your life! That niggling thing that's keeping you awake at night - deal with it. Your life has too much on, or is just a mess in general - sort it out. We've all been there. There's no shame. But believe me, you'll sleep easy because of it. Also, try and do something calming before you go to bed like read or listen to music as a cool down for your brain. Cause shit gets fried over the course of a day!
Enough of this shite, what exciting things have people baked in cakes?
Sweet dreams!
Tara x
Today at work, I asked a customer if they wanted to bake some tickets.
In the spirit of this, let's talk about all the hilarious things people have decided to bake...
NOT REALLY. But man would that not make for once excellent blog.
Let's talk about the reason I did it. I asked a lovely, not-at-all twihard middle-aged woman if she would like to book tickets for 'Breaking Dawn', but I managed to somehow slur together 'book' and 'break' because I was drunk on the job. NOT REALLY. Man, full of twists and turns today. I was actually just super tired, and for me becoming linguistically challenged is just one of the side effects. Others include going to do something and forgetting what halfway there, forgetting what I'm saying mid-sentence, violent mood swings, and extreme cynicism. It seems everyone is really tired all the time now, myself included. Last year I would go five days a week on about 7 hours and catch-up on the weekend. But what are the long-term repercussions you may ask? I don't know. But let's find out together!
So, the many effects caused by sleep deprivation range from yawning to psychosis-like symptoms. They include aching muscles, confusion, memory loss, depression, sensitivity to the cold, irritability, periorbital puffiness (eye bags), increased risk of diabetes, obesity, and nystagmus (rapid involuntary rhythmic eye movement). Of these I most commonly suffer memory loss, irritability, and nystagmus - which I often get when I'm stressed or angry. It's good I now have something else to blame it on!
So those are terrifying. Yet me, along with countless others simply don't go to bed. I love sleeping, but avoid my memory foam cocoon till the last possible moment of reason. It's perplexing, as sleep is the one thing I go crazy over: I silently plan the death of those who wake everyone up early after staying over; I cling for dear life to my sheets until the nordic fishing news from Mr SIBC warns me that I'm in bus-missing territory, and I wandered the streets of Amsterdam at 1am as an alternative to smothering my snoring father to death with a pillow.
The problem, I think, is the YOLO mentality. Things seem much harsher at 7.45am than they do at midnight. After 15 'oh just one more video then I'll brush my teeth's, the time has sped by with very detrimental results. I'm a bit of an insomniac anyway, but the invention of YouTube is my true downfall. Even when you do manage to drag yourself to bed at a reasonable hour, it's normally for a reason that keeps your mind racing for hours on end. I have regularly attempted to sleep exhausted, but ironically been kept awaking thinking about the things that have made me exhausted.
What do we do? *consults google*
Cry yourself to sleep! Oh... NOT REALLY... apparently that's just me.
Take a warm bath. Exercise during the day. Avoid drugs. Keep regular a regular sleeping pattern.
That's the general online consensus, and it sounds pretty good. I'll also give you my tuppence. Sort out your life! That niggling thing that's keeping you awake at night - deal with it. Your life has too much on, or is just a mess in general - sort it out. We've all been there. There's no shame. But believe me, you'll sleep easy because of it. Also, try and do something calming before you go to bed like read or listen to music as a cool down for your brain. Cause shit gets fried over the course of a day!
Enough of this shite, what exciting things have people baked in cakes?
Sweet dreams!
Tara x
Monday, 12 November 2012
BEDN - Just Say Yes! (Nov 12th)
Ohai there!
Today, I want to explain to you why it's good to try new things, and not get complacent in your everyday life.
Over the course of my life I have tried the following hobbies, to varying degrees of success:
- Film-making
- Vlogging
- Improv comedy
- Badminton
- Trampolining
- Swimming
- Dance
- Acting
- Saxophone
- Piano
- Film-reviewing
- Table tennis
- Box fit
- Blogging
- Singing
- Crafts
- Football
- Jazzercise
- Vajazzling
- Athletics
- Cycling
So that's a wide variety of shit. And some of it didn't last long - my total artistic inability made my plunge into the world of paper maché brief. Amongst all of this stuff (10 points to Gryffindor if you guess which one I just made up), some of it stuck. The pass times in bold are the things I still partake in to this day. It was somewhat inevitable that my enjoyment of certain sports like football wouldn't sustain past the life span of primary school cool. It's really a big game of trial and error, but if you play the game, you reap the rewards.
I want to take you back to what must of been 2006. My grandmother dragged me along to a meeting for HOME Shetland, a big project taking place in communities across Scotland to celebrate the creation of the National Theatre of Scotland. I took part in this production based on the Northlink, which was bizarre but from what I gather quite moving. What is more significant about that day however, was the fact that the Shetland Youth Theatre were meeting upstairs at the same time. I was encouraged by John Haswell to mozy on upstairs and join them, and despite major hesitation, I did. BEST DECISION EVER. From there, I made gained a ridiculous amount of confidence, made friends with people whom I'm still close to this day, and within 2 years performed on the stage of the National Theatre in London. All because I said yes that one day in early 2006.
Another similar case is my decision to attend the inaugural meeting of 'Shetland's Young Persons Film & Media Club' after playing with my home movie camcorder obsessively for a couple years. Fast forward 5 years, and I'm now the chairperson of the club ,which is now called the somewhat more catchy Maddrim Media. We've had crazy amounts of success, including screenings at national film festivals, mentions in broadsheets, and a certain top film critic's number in my phonebook... I'm now applying to study Digital Film & Television!
So, while I might not be the UK's next big vajazzle artist, my life has been enriched by the hobbies that did stick. All because I said yes one day. So the moral of the story: say yes to things. I promise I'll stop being a hippy tomorrow.
Tara x
BEDN - This Blog is So Mainstream (Nov 11th)
Ohai there!
Today, I want to talk about hipsters: how they're defined and perceived, if I am one, and if it's possible to try and be one.
Definition
Where do we turn to to define such a modern conundrum? I mean, I get punks, emos, goths, jocks, chavs et al, but HIPSTERS? HIPSTERS!? By their very being they fight any kind of categorisation. The answer: we turn to urbandictionary.com.
The best definition I found was here. Since it's quite long and biased, I'm not posting it and just taking the gist of it for the rest of this article.
For me it boils down to these factors:
Some may argue there are no hipsters nowadays, and that hipster died with the beat generation in the mid 20th centuries. These young writers and poets and musicians and artists had actual battles to fight in the name of artistic and sexual liberation, such as censorship. The so-called 'hipsters' of today would seem petty in comparison.
Just for my friend Lauren, an excerpt from Allen Ginsberg's 'Howl', a poem which was nearly banned due to its sexual content.
"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix, Angel-headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night"
Oh Joe, You Just Quoted Allen Ginsberg - You're a Raging Hipster
I have often been accused by friends of being a hipster. I have denied it, in my head associating it with the people who try to appear cool by showing off that one weird thing that they listened to and kind of liked that one time.
To be fair, I don't do much to help my case. On Saturday afternoon, I went to see a film in Cantonese and was nearly treated to a private screening in Cinema 1. I had a photo taken to prove it (and yes, it is Instagrammed, I know):
But that aside, let's apply the criteria to me. In an unfortunate turn of events, I own a pair of thick-rimmed black glasses and wear them fairly frequently - they're the only ones I own that don't fall of my face, and I occasionally need to see things. I own (excellent) clothes from the charity shop, I am both varieties of skinny, and am often very lazy with my hair. I would consider myself very liberal and forward-thinking, I have somehow ended up writing a cultural analysis of hipster, so I'm probably at least a bit of an intellectual. I consider myself to have good taste, so a dash of elitism surely seeps through. Artistically, I'm pretty open to doing or seeing anything (*cough*cantonesefilm*cough*) and I work in an arts centre. I'm also very gay.
There are some distict differences though. Namely, I take pride in caring about things and people. Oh, and I'm far too poor to shop at Urban Outfitters.
So, you know what, I probably am a hipster. (Feel free to screenprint and say you were right.)
BUT
By admitting that, does that mean I'm no longer a hipster? Will I have my skinny jeans revoked?
And for me a more pertinent question: can you be a hipster without realising it? Apply my criteria to the person you'd least expect to be a hipster. Apply it yourself. Are you surprised with the results? Please let me know.
Maybe you're the next pioneer of a new cultural movement. I think to truly incite change you do have to not conform. If the beat generation and similar folk had sat idly by and let whatever guff was on the go reign supreme, we wouldn't have something to spark the last 50 years of good music, film, literature, dance, theatre... Don't try to be as cool as everyone else. Be everyone else. Be an individual! And there's nothing to say you can't do that whilst wearing wayfarers.
If you are happy enough just to be a follower, here's an educational video for you, courtesy of the excellent 'Happy Endings':
This blog... over it.
Today, I want to talk about hipsters: how they're defined and perceived, if I am one, and if it's possible to try and be one.
Definition
Where do we turn to to define such a modern conundrum? I mean, I get punks, emos, goths, jocks, chavs et al, but HIPSTERS? HIPSTERS!? By their very being they fight any kind of categorisation. The answer: we turn to urbandictionary.com.
The best definition I found was here. Since it's quite long and biased, I'm not posting it and just taking the gist of it for the rest of this article.
For me it boils down to these factors:
- IMAGE
- black, thick-rimmed wayfarers
- charity shop clothes
- skinnies - jeans and bodies
- Urban Outfitters
- carefree hair
- ATTITUDE
- liberal
- forward-thinking
- consider themselves to be culturally elite
- passive and uncaring
- intellectual
- TASTE
- alternative music/film/art
- things which are non-conformist
- things which push boundaries
- ignore traditional societal views of sexuality
- artistically-orientated
So that's 5 things within each of the three main categories that I've just gone ahead and made up cause it's my blog and I'll do whatever the fuck I what! So, in theory, could you be a hipster without knowing it, if you fit most or all of the criteria?
There is a terribly negative cultural stigma surrounding hipsterdom, which I think stops people from embracing their inner hipster. I imagine this stems, not from the pioneer hipsters themselves who help to define the next cultural movements, but from the pretentious characters who have donned some enormous spectacles in the hope of seeming cool. There are a lot of those characters.
Some may argue there are no hipsters nowadays, and that hipster died with the beat generation in the mid 20th centuries. These young writers and poets and musicians and artists had actual battles to fight in the name of artistic and sexual liberation, such as censorship. The so-called 'hipsters' of today would seem petty in comparison.
Just for my friend Lauren, an excerpt from Allen Ginsberg's 'Howl', a poem which was nearly banned due to its sexual content.
Oh Joe, You Just Quoted Allen Ginsberg - You're a Raging Hipster
I have often been accused by friends of being a hipster. I have denied it, in my head associating it with the people who try to appear cool by showing off that one weird thing that they listened to and kind of liked that one time.
To be fair, I don't do much to help my case. On Saturday afternoon, I went to see a film in Cantonese and was nearly treated to a private screening in Cinema 1. I had a photo taken to prove it (and yes, it is Instagrammed, I know):
But that aside, let's apply the criteria to me. In an unfortunate turn of events, I own a pair of thick-rimmed black glasses and wear them fairly frequently - they're the only ones I own that don't fall of my face, and I occasionally need to see things. I own (excellent) clothes from the charity shop, I am both varieties of skinny, and am often very lazy with my hair. I would consider myself very liberal and forward-thinking, I have somehow ended up writing a cultural analysis of hipster, so I'm probably at least a bit of an intellectual. I consider myself to have good taste, so a dash of elitism surely seeps through. Artistically, I'm pretty open to doing or seeing anything (*cough*cantonesefilm*cough*) and I work in an arts centre. I'm also very gay.
There are some distict differences though. Namely, I take pride in caring about things and people. Oh, and I'm far too poor to shop at Urban Outfitters.
So, you know what, I probably am a hipster. (Feel free to screenprint and say you were right.)
BUT
By admitting that, does that mean I'm no longer a hipster? Will I have my skinny jeans revoked?
And for me a more pertinent question: can you be a hipster without realising it? Apply my criteria to the person you'd least expect to be a hipster. Apply it yourself. Are you surprised with the results? Please let me know.
Maybe you're the next pioneer of a new cultural movement. I think to truly incite change you do have to not conform. If the beat generation and similar folk had sat idly by and let whatever guff was on the go reign supreme, we wouldn't have something to spark the last 50 years of good music, film, literature, dance, theatre... Don't try to be as cool as everyone else. Be everyone else. Be an individual! And there's nothing to say you can't do that whilst wearing wayfarers.
If you are happy enough just to be a follower, here's an educational video for you, courtesy of the excellent 'Happy Endings':
This blog... over it.
Saturday, 10 November 2012
BEDN - Please Don't Tell Me Nice Things (Nov 10th)
Ohai there!
I'm not very British in many respects, carrying hardly any patriotism for our union. I'm in favour of independence, I think ol' Cameron is reprehensible, and I think we're far too obnoxious about our place in the world. Though I am thoroughly British in one respect - I cannot for the life of me take a compliment.
Modesty is my middle name. When I recently performed at a gala concert, there were people coming up to me fairly often (I work where I performed) and congratulating me on a job well done. I would offer a blasé "Oh thank you!" and swiftly move on. This is not a kind 'Oh I know how great I am, you don't need to tell me' shirk, it's a 'Don't waste your words on such a little thing as my performance' shirk.
But you know, what? It's lovely of people to say. I enjoy receiving compliments, much like everyone else. And you know what's a massive compliment? Someone saying that they're into you. I know so many people who have been harshly rejected after admitting a crush to the person they like, or are to afraid to say how they feel for fear of rejection.
You know I would react, not matter who it was or whether I was interested or not? I would be flattered. I would say thanks but no thanks, say we work better as friends, or do something to alleviate the embarrassment of somebody who just paid me a massive compliment.
So, that's what you should all do! I need to go and watch 'Frankenweenie' now.
A very British
Tara x to you all
I'm not very British in many respects, carrying hardly any patriotism for our union. I'm in favour of independence, I think ol' Cameron is reprehensible, and I think we're far too obnoxious about our place in the world. Though I am thoroughly British in one respect - I cannot for the life of me take a compliment.
Modesty is my middle name. When I recently performed at a gala concert, there were people coming up to me fairly often (I work where I performed) and congratulating me on a job well done. I would offer a blasé "Oh thank you!" and swiftly move on. This is not a kind 'Oh I know how great I am, you don't need to tell me' shirk, it's a 'Don't waste your words on such a little thing as my performance' shirk.
But you know, what? It's lovely of people to say. I enjoy receiving compliments, much like everyone else. And you know what's a massive compliment? Someone saying that they're into you. I know so many people who have been harshly rejected after admitting a crush to the person they like, or are to afraid to say how they feel for fear of rejection.
You know I would react, not matter who it was or whether I was interested or not? I would be flattered. I would say thanks but no thanks, say we work better as friends, or do something to alleviate the embarrassment of somebody who just paid me a massive compliment.
So, that's what you should all do! I need to go and watch 'Frankenweenie' now.
A very British
Tara x to you all
BEDN - Whina Del Whine? (Nov 9th)
Ohai there!
When I first heard 'Video Games' by American singer-songwriter Lana Del Rey in early 2011 I was completely smitten. She had created such a fascinating character in her song - a woman who was treated like nothing by her partner, but couldn't escape because of intense love for him. It had a powerful message, she had a unique and unusual voice, and it was immaculately produced.
I looked forward to her debut album, despite the fact its name was the eye-rolling 'Born To Die'. I wondered how her style and character would sustain itself over an entire album. I downloaded it without a second thought, and on the first few plays I thought it was excellent. While most albums improve on repeat listens with intricacies becoming clearer, in the case of 'Born To Die', the gaping cracks become more apparent.
Firstly, and what I believe is her biggest problem - the lyrics. What I thought was a winking comment on how our culture views woman in 'Video Games', is actually just a self-deprecating, materialistic whinger across an entire album. 'Lana Del Rey' only cares about how hot she looks and how many powerful men want to bang her brains out. Unsettlingly, she seems totally invested in the misogyny she seeks to highlight that it becomes an endorsement after a whole LP. Other lyrics are simply melodramatic or nonsensical, for example:
He said to "be cool" but,
I'm already coolest
I said to, “Get real,"
“Don't you know who you're dealing with?
Um, do you think you'll buy me lots of diamonds?”
Tell me I'm your National Anthem
Ooh, yeah, baby, bow down
Making me so wow, wow
Tell me I'm your National Anthem
Sugar, sugar, how now
Take your body down town
Red, white, blue's in the sky
Summer's in the air and
Baby, heaven's in your eyes
I'm your National Anthem
- National Anthem
So, other than being against everything she stands for, another problem I have against 'Born To Die' is the lethargic pace of the album. It's never a good sign when you suspect the lead singer of an album could slip into a coma at any time. The thick instrumentation on every track doesn't help either, weighing down an already heavy experience. After listening to the thing as a whole, you kind of feel like life isn't worth living, take that at successful art or someone who needs to lighten up as you will.
Now, everyone is familiar with Lana's disastrous appearance on 'Saturday Night Live', but for anyone who isn't it's here. I don't even necessarily think the performance is too bad, it's just completely all over the place and she's understandably nervous. I often judge the credibility of an artist based on how they are live, without the ability to hide behind production. The thing that strikes me most about Lana live is her complete lack of charisma and showmanship. She stands, sways, and obsessively swipes her static hair, actively uncomfortable with people looking at her. She is a vacuous stage presence.
I think that leads to the main problem with Lana Del Rey - her choice of style over substance. She rocks this retro 50s vibe in fashion and her videos, and say what you may about that, her material and talent don't live up to her style at the moment.
I asked a while ago what you all thought of Lana Del Rey, and as well as striking debate about native American attire, here were some of the responses:
- "She sucks and is boring."
- "Never mind the fact that she's talentless she's also racist and guilty of cultural appropriation wearing a native American war bonnet in one of her music videos when they're only meant to be worn by native American war veterans or in special circumstances by the son of the veteran they're also very gender specific as in only males can wear them."
- "Her album is gr8 and I do like her, would I pay thirty odd quid to see her concert...no way "
"- "Forget her/him and get on with life. Who are these people anyway ? There's lots of real folk out there who don't need all that analysin' ... and are not askin' to be 'LIKED' ..C'mon Joe."
Tara x
Friday, 9 November 2012
BEDN - Run Boy Run (Nov 8th)
Ohai there!
So, aside from the always enjoyable Megan Fox loves marine life advert (which I saw again today at my 2nd 'Skyfall' screening), the other advert I look forward to is an O2 ad for 'Priority Sports'. Why? Because the song that accompanies it is one of my favourites of the moment.
Yoanne Lemoine, under the artist alias of Woodkid, is the french music video director-turned musician responsible for it. He is relatively new on the scene as a musical act himself, though has been directing videos for the likes of Rihanna and Katy Perry for years. He also has directed videos for his friend Lana Del Rey, who we'll get to tomorrow...
The Woodkid 'creative project' aims to treat image and music equally, and his directing experience is evident with the delivery of a 'Where The Wild Things Are'-esque video, that is gorgeous to look at. His low voice has a chocolate smooth quality to it, which excellently compliments the suitably epic orchestral backing.
So without further ado, I present 'Run Boy Run' by Woodkid:
Tara x
So, aside from the always enjoyable Megan Fox loves marine life advert (which I saw again today at my 2nd 'Skyfall' screening), the other advert I look forward to is an O2 ad for 'Priority Sports'. Why? Because the song that accompanies it is one of my favourites of the moment.
Yoanne Lemoine, under the artist alias of Woodkid, is the french music video director-turned musician responsible for it. He is relatively new on the scene as a musical act himself, though has been directing videos for the likes of Rihanna and Katy Perry for years. He also has directed videos for his friend Lana Del Rey, who we'll get to tomorrow...
The Woodkid 'creative project' aims to treat image and music equally, and his directing experience is evident with the delivery of a 'Where The Wild Things Are'-esque video, that is gorgeous to look at. His low voice has a chocolate smooth quality to it, which excellently compliments the suitably epic orchestral backing.
So without further ado, I present 'Run Boy Run' by Woodkid:
Tara x
Thursday, 8 November 2012
BEDN - I Think It's Time We Talk About Drag Queens (Nov 7th)
Ohai there!
Today I'm finally going to talk to you about 'RuPaul's Drag Race', easily the most fun you'll have watching TV at the moment and my favourite reality TV series HANDS DOWN. I did not realise, however, how much of a hard sell the show would be, until I was compiling my arguments for why you should be watching it. In essence, it's a satirical, campy, hilarious, sassy, reality TV competition about drag queens trying to become America's 'next drag superstar'.
Before you go any further, I'm going to insert what I'm calling a 'Drag Race' filter - if you don't enjoy this 12 second clip, you will not enjoy the programme:
If you've made it this far, you're in for a heap of fun, and also context.
That clip is like the show - stuffed to the brim with puns and innuendo. The challenge set by RuPaul in that week was to star in a sitcom about woman who were always getting into trouble, testing the girls' ability to act under pressure.
RuPaul Charles is generally considered to be the world's most famous drag queen, and the mastermind behind this TV gold. The programme pits twelve drag queens against each other, as they strive to show the Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve & Talent (think about it) to be an ambassador for the profession. And boy does Ru test them.
The show has been described as "the best of Project Runway and America’s Next Top Model, only instead of same-ol’ same ol’ challenges and clichés, add some actual parody, old-fashioned dirty humor and about 5,000 pounds of makeup and sequins, and there you go." The challenges are hard. Here are some examples from the latest season:
Today I'm finally going to talk to you about 'RuPaul's Drag Race', easily the most fun you'll have watching TV at the moment and my favourite reality TV series HANDS DOWN. I did not realise, however, how much of a hard sell the show would be, until I was compiling my arguments for why you should be watching it. In essence, it's a satirical, campy, hilarious, sassy, reality TV competition about drag queens trying to become America's 'next drag superstar'.
Before you go any further, I'm going to insert what I'm calling a 'Drag Race' filter - if you don't enjoy this 12 second clip, you will not enjoy the programme:
If you've made it this far, you're in for a heap of fun, and also context.
That clip is like the show - stuffed to the brim with puns and innuendo. The challenge set by RuPaul in that week was to star in a sitcom about woman who were always getting into trouble, testing the girls' ability to act under pressure.
RuPaul Charles is generally considered to be the world's most famous drag queen, and the mastermind behind this TV gold. The programme pits twelve drag queens against each other, as they strive to show the Charisma, Uniqueness, Nerve & Talent (think about it) to be an ambassador for the profession. And boy does Ru test them.
The show has been described as "the best of Project Runway and America’s Next Top Model, only instead of same-ol’ same ol’ challenges and clichés, add some actual parody, old-fashioned dirty humor and about 5,000 pounds of makeup and sequins, and there you go." The challenges are hard. Here are some examples from the latest season:
- The queens design a post-apocalyptic couture outfit from items looted from drag queen zombies (aka Queens from the previous seasons).
- Create a wrestling storyline, with "backstage" clip and entertaining match in the ring
- Celebrity impersonations in a Match Game-style setting
- Participate in a Presidential debate as the 2012 Wig Party candidate
- Turn a DILF into a pregnant drag diva. (I am not shitting you.)
- Design three outfits for the runway in the categories: Daytime Dog Park, Pooch in a Purse and Canine Couture, an outfit inspired by an actual dog.
It is imperative that the queens be all-round entertainers, which makes the challenges entertaining and brings the most excellent personalities to the foreground. Oh, did I forget to mention the hilarious mini-challenges? That can be a nice surprise.
I think it's also worth mentioning that this is the most fabulous thing you will ever see - in both senses of the word. (But seriously this is the gayest thing you will ever see.) There is everything you could want from a reality TV show, including catty villains and endearing characters with really heart-breaking back stories that emerge throughout the course of the season. Drag really is a family, and there are some wonderfully touching moments amongst the ludicrous hilarity.
Plus, the outcome every week is decided not by a boring public vote, but by RuPaul herself after the bottom two contestants from the challenge have to 'lip-sync for their lives!'. This show is so great!
By now you probably know whether you'll like the show or not, but I will say one more thing - it is so much fun to watch how liberated all these people are. 'RuPaul's Drag Race' is all about loving who you are no matter what, and it's a delight to behold. So I'll end with the line Ru does every episode -
"If you can't love yourself, how in the hell you gonna love somebody else?! Can I get an AMEN up in here?!
Amen.
Tara x
-
FYI
- The show is not available in the UK (it was briefly on E4) so I would suggest you start watching season 4 online here.
- The AV Club do some really great coverage of Drag Race and it's worth reading their recaps after every episode.
Wednesday, 7 November 2012
BEDN - Megan Fox Has a Hidden Passion (Nov 6)
...and I'm not going to spoil it by telling you what it is.
Ohai there!
I'm afraid it's a quickie today guys, cause I had a lot to do and I need to sleep. So without further ado, I present to you one of the most weirdly-conceived adverts I've ever seen in my life:
Tara x
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