The Genius Contingent

Eons ago, when myself and Lord Bunn were but students wasting our lives away and Geocities monopolised the free webspace industry, we ran a website. It wasn't a cool website, nor was it a particulary serious website, but we put alot of effort into it and nearly got it finished. It was called the Genius Contingent and was dedicated to the works of Steve Martin, Dan Aykroyd, Bill Murray and Chevy Chase. The idea was that we would review each and every movie made by these giants of comedic cinema in our own indomitable way - then leave the site and never update it again.


We got close. Almost. The first version went online around 1998 and it was last updated in 2002... by this time I had actually redesigned the whole site and made it smarter, funnier and more attractive, but I never got round to actually uploading the content and slowly, over time, the whole idea rotted away and the website was lost to the sands of time.

Until now. Lord Bunn has discovered, possibly to his and mine detriment, that the Genius Contingent is still alive and well and sitting on a foreign Geocities server somewhere. Well I'll be damned. And here it is, for all to see. Just make sure that when you read you should be imagining it to be smarter, funnier and more attractive than it actually is.

Walk Hard

Looks like a spoof oughta look...

The Jeremy Irons Story

I like telling stories. I like telling my own stories. It's kind of my downfall and the prime reason people become irritated with me. I have a habit to intone Yoda style the metaphorical wisdom learned from my own personal experiences at the most inappropriate times. Luckily, most people are far too polite to interrupt or inform me they've "already heard this one" so I usually get to finish with a few seconds of smug satisfaction before the crippling fear of self-obsession and indulgent monologues strikes.

I always planned to write down all my stories, put them in a book and hand them to my friends so that the next time I felt compelled to wax lyrical I could simply tell people to check a chapter at their leisure and not have to bore all those within earshot.

The Jeremy Irons story is my favourite or all my stories, however I have fallen into a near-perfect pitter-patter recollection of it and the whole thing is becoming very tedious. Thus I shall recant the tale one more time before retiring it to the bin marked "not to be touched until the grandkids are old enough to know what speed is" and replace the top slot with the story of me, two strippers and a videocamera in a dressing room. It's not nearly as dirty as it sounds, but it will still have to wait for another time.

Before I tell this sad tale of woe and celebrity embarressment, though, I should issue a warning to all those who may be related to me, or those foolish enough to hold me in any high regard. This is a story of misspent employment, foolish alcohol consumption and illegal activities. If you would prefer to know me as that nice boy you raised from birth, or that charming young man who is currently dating your daughter, you may wish to scroll down to the previous post which is all about International Womens Day and paints me in a far better light.

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The Jeremy Irons Story

Way back in 2001 I was working as a runner on a small independant film called Dream which starred Kelly Harrison, Sinead Cusack and Matthew from Eastenders. We worked 11 day fortnights, which means we had the weekend off, then Saturday off, then the weekend etc. Towards the end of the shoot, on one of the intermitent weekends, I was very stressed and tired and needed to seriously unwine. Since I had the luxury of two days off I went to the pub, drank my bodyweight in booze and went and partied my way across town. I would love to tell you where I went and what I did but I have no recollection further than that. It was that good a night.

Anyway. Two days off so plenty of time to recover, right? Wrong. I got a phone call from the Production Manager the next morning saying she needed me for an urgent task. Could I drive down to Sinead Cusacks house in Cornwall (which is about 350 miles away) and pick up some childhood photos of her to be used as set dressing? Her husband would have everything ready but I had to leave now and could I take the Renault Espace as my normal location car was in use. Thanks.

I stalled a couple of hours or so, made sure I was ok to drive - drank the usually hated coffee and forced food down down my throat - but I was still out the door by midday. Driving may have been a mistake, I was really tired and the drive down to Cornwall had to be punctuated with frequent stops and a never-ending supply of luxury service station water. I vibrated, I hung my head out the window like a beagle and I played punk-rock really fucking loud and somehow I arrived at my destination.

All this time, though, I had one thought on my mind. Who is Sinead Cusack married to? I knew it was someone famous, but in my sleep deprived, booze addled brain I couldn't remember who. Obviously this is called The Jeremy Irons Story, therefore she is married to Jeremy Irons, but I didn't realise this until his super-silky tones emitted from the gate speaker and he buzzed me into his house.

On opening the garden gate to this modest faux-rustic farmhouse it all hit me. Everything. The late night, the drinking, the 3 months of 16 hour working days, the stress, the drive, the starch in my stomach and the shock of knowing I was about to meet Hans Grubers brother.* I think I was probably also reeling from the realisation that in coming down here I had done something incredibly stupid... and all of a sudden I was really really thirsty.

Jeremy Irons welcomed me into his house, generously gave me several pints of water and didn't seem fazed when I gulped them down in quick succession. We sat for several awkward minutes and made small talk; how the film was going, Sinead, the weather, the drive etc. It was around the point of the 30 second silence that I realised I was shaking horribly and Jeremy Irons was staring at me with a mixture of fear, horror and bemusement.

No doubt wondering what kind of man he had let into his house, let alone who he was entrusting with his wifes precious memories, he made his excuses and went to get the photos. Immediately I dashed to the sink and splashed water on my face, and it was this dripping, vibrating mess that Jeremy Irons faced a few seconds later when he returned. Mumbling something about being very hot, I offered my trembling hand to take the photos and as he passed them, for a split second, I saw a look of contempt flicker across his face.

Not wanting to piss him off further - I've seen Reversal of Fortune, I know what this man is capable of - I practically fled the kitchen and into the fresh air. Jeremy Irons followed me half way down the path and the last thing I heard was his clipped instructions to close the gate behind me. I pulled it shut without looking back and hightailed it to the nearest cafe for a mainline of sugar.

A hearty sandwiche, can of coke and half hour of sunshine set me right and I felt fantastic. With a smile on my face and a song in my heart I headed back to Sheffield, stopping only once to phone my friend Matt and tell him what had happened.

I haven't met Jeremy Irons since, and for that I'm blessed. Drinking is bad for you kids, it makes you do stupid things infront of RSC actors and no-one should ever sink that low.

And that, ladies and gentleman, is the end of The Jeremy Irons Story. I thank you.



*Note to readers. In 2001 Jeremy Irons was still a moderately respectable actor. Dungeons and Dragons had been shot but not released and we were years away from the Time Machine, Eragon and Kingdom of Heaven. I think I'd recently seen him in Lolita, which is an excellent movie.

Jesus Camp

This.
Is an incredible film.


I don't care how you see it; download it, rent it, buy it
- just make sure you see it. And then have the most amazing inner-dialogue with yourself about every subject raised...

It's a documentary focusing on an Evangelical summer camp in North Dakota that trains children to be Christian soldiers as part of Gods army. Here children as young as 6 are taught the lies of evolution, the evil of abortion and the reverence of our lord George W. Bush. As far as the morality of it all goes, I can only splutter with indignation and struggle to find the words to even begin to describe the injustices being dealt upon these children. As a piece of filmmaking, I can say it's an exceptional piece of work.

The movie focuses entirely on the summer camp and its Pastor Becky Fischer. The only voice of dissidence is a Christian talk radio host who argues that Evangicalism has gone too far in Christs name. There is very little misrepresentation in terms of filmmaking - or as far as I noticed - and the staff and children are given ample chance to explain themselves. Opinions are left to the audience to decide, however since the material is so remarkable in terms of displaying and explaining fundamentalism it's very hard to look upon the subjects favourably. Their rational is clear and concise, but their argument dictates that they hang themselves with their own rope. Which they do. Frequently.


What I found most remarkable was the humanising of the subjects; despite that these children are effectively brainwashed, terrified and forced into a belief of Christ, their eloquence, intelligence and dedication is remarkable. Were it not for an indoctrinated faith and coherced alligance they would be exceptional children - smart, mannered, educated, opinionated - but the fevered rocking and speaking in tongues is enough to make you fear for their adullthood.

Not to make grand statements about religion or anything, but those interested in state control and cult movements should take a look. Not all fascism looks like Hitler, and this is a terrific, front row view into the makings of an indocrinated youth. Their dedication and feverent belief makes you wish their efforts were more positively placed than banning abortions and the creation of a Christian state. The movie is frequently hilarious, and frequently terrifying, when the Pastors explain their methods for ensnaring the young minds - there's nothing like the blood font to explain sin, and you can't beat a 2 inch plastic foetus strapped to a 6-year olds wrist to drive the abortion point home.

This movie makes it harder to laugh at those religious nutballs out there, it puts a face to those silly fools who claim dinosaurs are mentioned in the Bible and it gives a legitimacy to a movement that demands ignorance and blind-faith over anything else. It's also a fascinating sociological document, and a very well made movie.

Official Website
IMDB
Wikipedia

Adam Curtis' new series The Trap starts on Sunday night, 9pm, BBC 2 - don't forget to watch it. I'll be at work. Bollocks.

Movie News

Gossip is gossip is gossip when it comes to Hollywood news, but this little snippet caught my eye this morning which looks like it could be quite exciting. Preacher is an outstanding comic book series written by Garth Ennis and illustrated by Steve Dillon, it's possibly my favourite ever comic-book series, and a movie version has been threatened for a long time.

The problem is that it's far too complex, far too fucked up and far too offensive to ever truly capture on screen - it features a corrupt god, an obese Allfather, a retarded messiah, sex investigators, vampires, beastiality, a suicide-deformed teenager (see below), gay angels, the Saint of Killers, a villain with a penis-shaped head and a cameo by Bill Hicks, to name but a few elements. And that's not mentioning the enormous and very bloody body count. Like I said, favourite ever comic book. For a while it looked like Tank Girl/Freddy's Dead director Rachel Talahay was going to make it, which was a bad move, and would star serial borefucker James Marsden. This was a very bad move.

Turns out, though, that HBO are on the cusp of making a mini-series out of it, using each issue as an episode. This is a very good idea, the only way you could come close to capturing the detail and subtext of Preacher is to follow the story very closely. The bad news is that Mark Steven Johnson - the piss-poor director behind Daredevil and Ghost Rider - is the man handling it. Yhen again, right now he's making all the right sounds:

"JOHNSON: I'm just trying to finish the pilot for Preacher at the moment. It's for HBO. It's VERY faithful to the comic, nearly exact. I think if it went, it would be one of the most amazing shows ever on television."

"I gave [HBO] the comics, and I said, 'Every issue is an hour. And it's exactly the book. ... I had my meeting yesterday, and Garth Ennis is on the phone, and we're all in the room, and Garth is like, 'You don't have to be so beholden to the comic.' And I'm like, 'No, no, no. It's got to be like the comic.' So that's what's so brilliant about it. It's just like, HBO, who else would do it but them? Nobody. ... HBO is just like, 'Bring it on.'"

Should I get excited? HBO make the best TV in the world, and if they're prepared to do justice to the comic by staying faithful, it could almost work. I dare not hope.



All the gotta do is cast it right now; Johnny Depp, Robert Carlyle, Cameron Diaz, Clint Eastwood, Patrick Stewart or nothing, thank you.

Awesome TV

I've said this before, and I look forward to saying it again; just when you think 24 can't possibly get anymore insane, it goes and defies your expectations again. For all it's po-faced seriousness, repetitive dialogue and exceptional plot holes it remains the finest thing on TV. Season 6, long may you reign.


I'm currently in the delighful throes of Reno 911, a take-off of Cops from Comedy Central. It's a really good show - largely improvised and painfully funny. It's introduced me to the comic talents of Kerri Kenney who plays two roles on the show and is without a doubt the funniest female comic I have seen in a very very long time. They have a movie coming out which looks a little "mah" but we'll see, the TV show is genius.


Call me a geek, call me whatever. The new Battlestar Galactica is has given sci-fi what it really needed; a bastard hard kick up the ass. I think it's best described in the words of the Peabody institute when they said: "It treats contemporary issues from an angle that really make you think about those issues…issues of race, gender, all those things are dealt with in that context... 'Battlestar' considers them in a dramatic narrative."

Damn right.

I also recently watched Crank which is, frankly, an absolutely brilliant action movie - it's ludicrious from start to finish and it knows it, which makes it all the more fun. Mike Judge's Idiocracy is a much maligned, badly treated flick which deserves recognition far beyond the release it was granted - it has some great ideas and moments of genius but the film has clearly suffered at the hands of the studios editors. Let's see... what else...? Last King of Scotland is excellent, so is Casino Royale and if you're in the mood for something gentle I can definately recommend Robert Altmans last film, A Praire Home Companion.

Updated Dead

There's a new updated version of Night of the Living Dead being released... this time in 3D. You can view the trailer here.

Want to know just how updated it is...? Check out the screen grab below and tell me that's not incredible for all the wrong reasons

UPDATED: As Matt pointed out in the comments section, there's also a brilliant disclaimer at the end that I didn't notice on the first view. If ever something screamed 'legal obligation' it's this: