Newsblurt

Things have happened and there is therefore news.

The fine folk at the Cambridge International Super 8 Festival have added Code Grey to their Best of the Fest touring roster. This has seen a selection of their most popular films screened in places as diverse as Hungary, France, Beijing and Weston Colville. It’s an honour to be a part of this rolling circus of goodies, and we’re deeply chuffed to have been asked. So who knows, perhaps you could soon see Code Grey on a big screen near you!

In the NO NEWS folder, we’re still waiting on a screening date for Time Out on this year’s Straight 8 screenings. All I can tell you currently is what’s been put on the Rushes Soho Shorts programme, which is that it will be screening on either the 27th or 29th at the Curzon Mayfair, or the 28th at the Renoir. All screenings start at 9.15. PROMISE, as soon as I know, there will be a breaking News Alert. I might even spring for a scrolling banner.

Finally, the Sick Puppies will be at Frightfest this year, Clive all weekend, me on the Saturday (Giallo! Pontypool! Vampire Girl vs. Frankenstein Girl!). No product to show, alas, just chillin with the horror community, and commiserating with our mate and X&HTeam-mate Simon Aitken, who didn’t make the deadline for this year with his excellent first feature, Blood And Roses. There’s always the Halloween all-nighter, though, right?

Right, I think that’s yer lot for now. How are you doing?

We Apologise For The Break In Transmission

Taking a little time out before things start to kick off for me again next week. So, yes, things have been a little quiet. However, I recommend checking out the site on Sunday for new thrills.

In the meantime, let me entertain you with a little song and dance.

(Via PCL LinkDump.)

Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner

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Monday saw DocoDomsy and I in London, for the exciting premiere of a brand new movie.

No, not that one.

We were at the ICA for the press screening of a film by Ivan Massow, entrepreneur and the ex-chairman of said august organisation. It’s his first movie, a riff on reality TV and celebrity called Banksy’s Coming For Dinner. The screening was perfectly timed, of course, with Banksy’s takover of the Bristol City Museum making headlines everywhere.

The concept is simple, yet becomes increasingly mind-bending as soon as you put a little pressure on it. Massow has organised a dinner party, hosted by Joan Collins, with guests including past-it girl Tamara Beckwith, and comedian Stephen K Amos. The guest of honour, and the whole point to the film, is Banksy, showing up for the first time on camera. He is pixellated and subtitled throughout, and his voice is put through a voice-changer. The fun of the movie and the idea comes out of this clash of personalities – and the fact that the main star of the movie is the guy that is never properly seen or heard, and would normally not be seen dead at these kinds of events.

So does it work? Well, for the most part, yes. It’s very, very funny for a start. It’s cut to a typical reality show template, where one event is covered in a multi-camera shoot and then carefully bolted together afterwards. You get a lot of pregnant pauses, faux pas, and reactions that are clearly taken out of context. But this all adds to the fun of the thing.

And I should say before I go any further that it’s a mockumentary. Everyone here is playing to type, off a script, and to a certain extent also playing a caricature of themselves. The fact that they all do it so convincingly is part of the film’s charm.

There are extensive clues throughout that the film is not a document of a real event. The staff, for example, are played by quite recognisable actors, including Nickolas Grace and Helen Lederer in a cracking turn as a slightly batty chef. It’s rather telling that Banksy is very derogatory towards Tracey Emin – spouting opinions that are pretty much identical to Massow’s own on the subject. And don’t get me started on openly gay comedian Stephen Amos suddenly having a model girlfriend called Naomi…

As time goes on, you become increasingly aware that the whole thing is an elaborate trick, a Russian dollhouse of ideas nesting together, layers of meaning popping into view, constantly surprising and amusing.

I’d recommend Banksy’s Coming To Dinner, especially if you’re a fan of toe-curling reality shows, and the kind of improv comedy that Christopher Guest does so well. It’s smart, thought-provoking and laugh-out-loud hilarious.

I think Massow’s missed a chance though. He’s offering it as a download or DVD, when surely it’s ideal home would be one of the smaller BBC channels, or More/E4. At just over an hour, it
would need trimming to fit into the broadcast hour slot, but that could be pretty easily done, to my mind. Perhaps he’s tried, without success. In which case, I think that it’s the broadcasters that are missing the opportunity.

And does Banksy really come to dinner? Well, that would be telling…

Here We Go Again

Regular members of The Readership will recall my posts late last year on the Criminal Justice and Immigration Bill, and it’s attack on free speech as pertaining so called “violent pornography”.

Well, as expected, that bill passed and is now being used to protect us against something else that isn’t a threat.

And this time it’s really personal.

The fuckers are going after comics.

The problem arises around this Bill used in conjunction with Section 49 of the Coroners And Justice Bill, currently being reviewed before making it’s way to the Lords. Take a look:

(1)
It is an offence for a person to be in possession of a prohibited image of a child.

(2)
A prohibited image is an image which—
(a)
is pornographic,
(b)
falls within subsection (6), and
(c)
is grossly offensive, disgusting or otherwise of an obscene character.

(3) An image is “pornographic” if it is of such a nature that it must reasonably be assumed to have been produced solely or principally for the purpose of sexual arousal.

(4) Where (as found in the person’s possession) an image forms part of a series of images, the question whether the image is of such a nature as is mentioned in

subsection (3) is to be determined by reference to—
(a) the image itself, and
(b) (if the series of images is such as to be capable of providing a context for the image) the context in which it occurs in the series of images.

(5) So, for example, where—
(a) an image forms an integral part of a narrative constituted by a series of images, and
(b) having regard to those images as a whole, they are not of such a nature that they must reasonably be assumed to have been produced solely or principally for the purpose of sexual arousal, the image may, by virtue of being part of that narrative, be found not to be pornographic, even though it might have been found to be pornographic if taken by itself.

(6) An image falls within this subsection if it—
(a) is an image which focuses solely or principally on a child’s genitals or anal region, or
(b) portrays any of the acts mentioned in subsection (7).

(7) Those acts are—
(a) the performance by a person of an act of intercourse or oral sex with or in the presence of a child;
(b) an act of masturbation by, of, involving or in the presence of a child;
(c) an act which involves penetration of the vagina or anus of a child with a part of a person’s body or with anything else;
(d) an act of penetration, in the presence of a child, of the vagina or anus of a person with a part of a person’s body or with anything else;
(e) the performance by a child of an act of intercourse or oral sex with an animal (whether dead or alive or imaginary);
(f) the performance by a person of an act of intercourse or oral sex with an animal (whether dead or alive or imaginary) in the presence of a child.

Got all that? Anyone see the problem yet?
Well, as with the CJIB last year, the issue is with the distressingly vague terms with which the terms are couched. That old chestnut “must reasonably be assumed to” creeps into the text on more than one occasion. And of course “grossly offensive, disgusting or otherwise of an obscene character.” That really ties it down, don’t it? My idea of grossly offensive is, I will bet you anything you like, different to my neighbour, the nice lady at the petrol station or the average copper who has to try and make sense out of this lax, lazy attempt at anti-child porn legislation.

In fact, it gets almost surreal. Please, reread section 7, subsection (e) and (f). And then shed a tear for the unicorns.

Let me make it simple for you. A drawing of a child is not a child. A drawing of a character that looks child-like is not a child. A drawing of that character engaged in pursuits and endeavours of an adult nature is still not a child. Tell you what, you tell me. How old is Astro Boy?

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How about Princess from Battle of The Planets?

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(incidentally, this pic was hosted on the BBC Cult website, which described it as… oh, see for yourself).

One more, as noted on the Comic Shop Voice website when mentioning the even more bothersome Section 52, which states:

(6) Where an image shows a person the image is to be treated as an image of a child if the impression conveyed by the image is that the person is shown as a child.

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and for comparison…

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(which I ganked from the Daily Mail website, who seem more than happy to print this kind of pic. Actually, linky to the whole page for more pics with kid actors underneath, which viewed out of context could be seen to be highly inappropriate.)

So, yet again, another piece of badly thought out, poorly examined and potentially ruinous legislation from a government that is passing laws that seek to criminalise me with every passing month.

Seriously. I own a copy of Lost Girls. Under the new laws, that makes me a criminal. God only knows what that makes Alan Moore.

Links for you to read include Comic Shop Voice who have a more detailed and much angrier version of the argument, and The Comic Book Alliance, a force for good in the industry. The Register have a very good (ie effing terrifying) version of events here.

There’s a big meet in Brighton about the whole situation this Monday. Bleeding Cool have the details. Worth lending your support.

Daily Bread

BDDA2F02-E437-47F0-860E-749FF0D33D82.jpgI love making bread. I’m a sucker for the fug of a fresh-baked loaf, especially when I’m together enough to get the breadmaker going overnight, to be woken by the warm, yeasy scent drifting up the stairs. Regardless of what the day has in store, that has to be a good start. Experimentation has led me to create my own loaf, a white/wholemeal mix that, while not especially innovative, is entirely delicious and exceedingly versatile.

There are those, of course, who claim that I’m not really making bread at all. By using a breadmaker I’m simply replicating at home scale the worst excesses of commercial bread production. If I truly cared about the holy loaf, I’d be getting my hands mucky in a bowl.

And I do, on occasion. And it is incredibly rewarding. I get a real sense of pride from sliding a cracly-warm dome of deliciousness out of the oven, just holding off from tearing into it with my bare hands until it’s cooled enough to eat safely. I haven’t bought bread from a bakers or supermarket in years, and I’m thinking locally in terms of ingredients as well. My favourite flour is ground at the watermill at Mapledurham, five miles down the road, which is the last working waterdriven corn and grist mill on the planet.

And I’m trying to branch out a little too, as summer creeps closer and I feel the urge for flatbreads and pizzas outside. One of my dreams for the refurbished back end of the garden is a wee wood-fired oven I can use to indulge my artesian fantasies. Pizza All Hallows will be a wonderful thing. I can already taste it.

A fascinating article in The Atlantic has just popped up online, regarding the intellectual property of recipes, and what happens after bakers break up. It’s got some interesting things to say about the often complicated machinations and relationships that go on behind the creation of something as simple as the daily loaf.