Reviews by Grand Assault

All reviews - Movies (272) - TV Shows (42) - Books (10) - Music (64) - Games (79)

Wasteland wonder

Posted : 12 months ago on 3 December 2008 12:31 (A review of Fallout 3)

The third instalment of the Fallout franchise is nothing short of epic. The game takes place in the Capital Wasteland of Washington DC, a huge, desolate environment which houses relentless depression and danger. The post-apocalyptic landscape is littered with the remnants of human society, devastated by nuclear attack. Now, some 30 years after the events of Fallout 2 and 200 years since the atomic bombs fell, humanity appears no closer to rebuilding a safe and productive future.

We are introduced to the game’s protagonist as a newborn in Vault 101. Here we get to pick what our character will look like via hundreds of different facial manipulation options (which, no matter how hard you tweak, invariably results in something reptilian and ugly). The game then accelerates through the first 19 years of your life before ousting you from the claustrophobic (yet relatively safe) confines of the vault and into the expansive and unforgiving wasteland outside. The reason for such disruption in your unassuming life? Your father has inexplicably escaped the vault, and it’s up to you to adventure out to find him.

Upon exiting the vault, you may have already made decisions that affect just how notorious your character will be out in the wastes. The Karma system sees everything, from theft of other people’s property, to stealthy executions and all out massacres of fellow wasteland survivors. Whether you decide to be a hero or a villain builds you a reputation which other people then react to across the map. Your karma can also be altered by your actions during ‘quests’, in which there are often open-ended ways of completing the task at hand. If you decide to help, hinder or euthanise your way through other people’s problems, expect to take the karma hits and the resulting bounty hunters that object to your way of life.

Life on the planes is a harsh affair, with mutated insects, beasts and super mutants all wanting to put an end to your miserable existence. The one thing that prevents you gawping at the marvellous ‘lived in’ scenery is the fact that everything around you is trying to kill you. If you go out into the wasteland unprepared, be sure to expect a rapid demise. Your armour and weapons decrease in efficiency with use, so maintaining them is a must. There’s nothing worse than your gun destroying itself in the heat of a firefight. As well as the numerous bad guys strolling the landscape, there are also various friendlies around who often help you out by trading and occassionally even lend a hand in a firefight if their own life is put in danger.

Once you’re outside, how you live your life is entirely up to you. Whether you want to follow in your fathers footsteps, or completely ignore his existence and write yourself into apocalyptic folklore elsewhere is a choice for you to make. There are scores of side quests to attempt, that often result in some handy hardware and much-needed levelling up opportunities. Upon your emergence from Vault 101, you are almost entirely useless with every weapon at your disposal, so experience is a must and with it brings confidence to explore further into the heart of the Wasteland area.

The game is not without faults, however. On particularly infuriating bug sees your character get stuck in the scenery (under a stair well or in a tiny rock divot for example) and thus, multiple saves - or dabbling with noclipping - is recommended. Another fair criticism of the game is that it lacks enemy variety - each enemy type is generally encountered within the first couple of hours of gameplay - although I have found it difficult to become bored of the encounters in spite of this. Occasionally your mission parameters do not update to the dynamic gameplay of the wasteland - for example, if your mission is to find a gentleman that you have already blown away, then the quest may not always recognise this, leaving you with the option to ignore the task forever, or finish it off with shotgun diplomacy by killing everyone involved. This isn’t always ideal when you are trying to lead a heroic life!

Finally, although on the grand scale the graphics are impressive, closer inspection reveals areas of extremely repetitive texture use and lazy rounded edges. Then again, the strong point of Fallout 3 is the gameplay and anybody looking for crystal-clear realism should probably be playing Crysis: Warhead by now anyway.

All in all, a game this epic doesn’t come around very often, and should be played by as many gamers as possible because of its pure ambition. Even the bugs are relatively easy to overlook and an enjoyable gaming experience awaits anyone willing to give it a chance. Although the primary quest is relatively short, there is well over fifty hours of gameplay locked away in the rest of the Wasteland and an obvious attraction would be to replay it again as an evil/good player (depending on how you went about things first time around).

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Damn dirty apes!

Posted : 1 year ago on 28 November 2008 04:51 (A review of Planet of the Apes)

Sci-fi stalwart, Charlton Heston, stars as Astronaut George Turner, who crash lands on a distant planet governed by an advanced race of Ape-like creatures. After travelling through space at the speed of light, Turner and his crew have passed hundreds of Earth years, but aged only several months, before it is time to touch down again in pastures new. After crash-landing on a mysterious planet, it becomes obvious that something has gone wrong. They have been in space far longer than planned and furthermore, one of their crewman - the only female - has died after equipment malfunction.

A soil analysis declares that no life can be supported in their current terrain, so the astronauts trek across miles of desert before coming into contact with an extremely primitive humanoid race. Turner is subsequently captured by a marauding ape-like species which apparently hunts these humans for sport. Turner must then fight for his survival amongst a truly corrupt species who see and treat humans as lower life forms. Despite his obviously complex and advanced abilities, he is still sentenced to an investigative lobotomy which will undoubtedly render his human cognitive functions obsolete.

The immediate emotion I felt whilst watching the film was one of shock. I couldn't believe just how poorly human beings were being treated at the hands of these intelligent apes, until I realised almost at once that this is exactly the way humans treat apes in the modern world. How different would it be if an ape suddenly spoke one day? Whilst we, as a species, wouldn't keep his existence a secret, we almost certainly continue to use their brethren as advanced test subjects in scientific experimentation. This realisation made the rest of the film a lot more uneasy to watch. The way this film ends is now the stuff of legend, so I knew before hand which planet this film took place on, which made the events throughout the film all the more poignant.

Turner eventually breaks free from his captors, along with his new mate (the hottest woman I have ever seen), Nova, and makes a break for freedom with some sympathetic apes. What he uncovers is a conspiracy amongst the ape world to keep humanity and it's intelligent existence a secret. The finale of the film delivers a damning verdict on humanity and it's propensity to annihilate each other, simultaneously destroying the world in which we live. The frustration I experienced throughout culminated in my feeling of anger and resentment towards my own species for the damage that we will ultimately inflict on ourselves in the distant future, somewhere down the line.

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I don't hate Balboa, I pity tha fool!

Posted : 1 year ago on 20 November 2008 01:53 (A review of Rocky III)

In the third instalment of the Rocky franchise, life is peachy for the Heavyweight Champion of the world. With the title belt comes all the trappings of wealth, fame and success and Rocky is living the high life. The Stallion even manages to defend his title no less than ten consecutive times, before deciding to retire at the top of his profession.

But a young upcoming boxer has other plans. Clubber Lang is a ruthless, dedicated and ferocious upstart determined to take the title for himself. After publicly ridiculing Rocky at the unveiling of his personal statue, Lang gets his wish of a shot at the title in a battle that is billed as Rocky's last ever fight. However, Rocky is not the man he used to be. In a complete contrast to the previous films, he trains in lavish surroundings in the presence of hundreds of adoring fans, much to the chagrin of his mentor, Mighty Mickey Goldmill and it is not long before he is praying the price, face down on the canvas at the hands of the merciless Lang.

Rocky is down and out. Humiliated, defeated and devoid of all passion for the sport which made him the icon he became. In his deepest darkest moments, an old enemy in the shape of Apollo Creed offers to bring him back to fighting speed by training him for a rematch with Clubber Lang. The thing that sets apart Rocky III from the previous two instalments is the fact that here, Rocky actually learns how to box! Instead of wading in like a punch-seeking missile, Balboa is taught how to move, how to punch and how to win by his former opponent. It makes a genuinely noticeable difference. Stallone looks in even better shape than usual and moves like a real pro. It's a completely different Rocky to the man who won over the public years before.

The film culminates in the devastating rematch with Lang - a man with arms like towerblocks, and punches that could probably bring them down. It's a fight that sent a real chill down my spine. It's pure inspiration, bottled, smeared across a celluloid reel, and broadcast straight into my lazy pores. Other highlights include the charity match which pits Rocky against Hulk Hogan (as Thunder Lips), Mr T's all round performance as his cocky and brutal opponent and the inclusion of a more humane Apollo Creed. All of this is crammed into ninety minutes of masculine bliss.

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Moroccan kids aren't too bright.

Posted : 1 year ago on 18 November 2008 05:00 (A review of Babel)

Nobody has ever told me that they enjoyed this film, and weighing in with a hefty 2.5 hours viewing time, I was a little reluctant at first to give it a try. Having missed the other two films in the supposed trilogy of Iñárritu's recent works, I had no idea what to expect, though I honestly expected a pretentious piece that only appealed to limp-wristed media students gunning for a new asset to adsorb into their already feeble persona.

In reality, the inclusion of Hollywood superstars would always deny Babel of a place amongst the 'cult classic' elite of independent films, but that doesn't mean it's easy watching for the average viewer. The film centres around three different groups of people in three very different situations. Although the characters are interlinked, they never interact with one another. In fact, some of the links between the characters are so tenuous that I almost expelled real laughter.

Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett, from what I can tell, are enduring a torrid and loveless marriage. This all changes when a young Moroccan mountain boy shoots the roof of a bus to test the range of his new hunting rifle. Somewhere in mid air, the bullet changes to an impossible trajectory and comes through a side window, severely wounding the pallid and gaunt Blanchett. You could be forgiven for thinking that she was already a corpse, but this event rekindles some deep-lying feeling of compassion in her husband and he endures to save her life.

Meanwhile, in Japan, a young girl deals with all the uneasy tribulations of youth with the added obstruction of being deaf and mute. Her ambition is to achieve a sense of belonging amongst her young peers, who are mostly ignorant and obnoxious to her disability.

Finally, the nanny of Pitt/Blanchett's children is a Mexican lady, forced to bring the youngsters along to a wedding in her native homeland. After an exuberant and exciting party, she makes the inspired decision to cross back to the USA with her nephew - about 100 times over the limit - as her chauffeur; something Border Patrol don't take too kindly to.

Guessing from the title of the film, Iñárritu clearly had some point to make about language. However, I really fail to see just exactly what that point was. The only storyline in which language was a barrier to functioning was for the Japanese girl who couldn't speak. Both the Mexican and Moroccan story lines all had characters who were multilingual, and the only real frustrations were vented between characters who spoke the same language as each other. The real problem I had with this film is the complete lack of closure from each of the story trails. There seemed to be absolutely no drastic consequences for any of the characters to deal with as a result of the decisions they'd made during the course of the film. The film felt ultimately pointless.

This is an immense shame, considering each story was actually entertaining. At no point was I bored with the chain of events, with the Japanese story being my particular favourite. I thought Babel would be leading to some big, intelligent culmination/disaster/bringing together, but none of this materialised into anything of note and that let the whole film down. Considering I've given it quite a generous rating despite this, I only wonder how great it could've been with a decent finale.

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Revolutionary tale.

Posted : 1 year ago on 18 November 2008 03:59 (A review of The Motorcycle Diaries)

Having never read The Motorcycle Diaries which form the basis of this film, I never quite knew how it was going to pan out. I half expected the film to be ladened with an overbearing political message and revolutionary rhetoric, but I couldn't have been more wrong with my prediction. Even without any prior knowledge of the films protagonists, this film is still a thoroughly enjoyable biographical adventure across the flank of Latin America.

Ernesto Guevara is a 23-year-old medical student. Opting out of finishing his final semester at medical school, he embarks instead on a road trip with his biochemist friend, Alberto Granado. Setting off with nothing more than a battered motorcycle and without any food or money to supplement their journey, they are forced to fend for themselves whilst travelling the length of the west coast of South America. The film initially focuses on the youthful sense of adventurism and care-free hedonism which accompanies their trip. Ernesto and Alberto are obviously good friends, and the increasingly outrageous schemes they perform in order to get by without any money provide some hilarious moments.

Set amidst a backdrop of outstanding South American countryside, you can't help but feel envious of their journey and the encounters it brings them. Though as they progress, the duo soon reign in their free spirit after increasingly interacting with the continents poorest civilians. Eventually forced to ditch the bike, Ernesto and Alberto continue the epic journey on foot, which brings them face to face with the crippling poverty and exploitation experienced by the indigenous population. On top of the neglect suffered at the hands of mining corporations and land owners, we see the remnants of the once-great Incan civilisation reduced to absolute poverty despite the cultural importance of their hereditary. The injustices witnessed along the path obviously begin to profoundly effect the pair, particularly Ernesto, who tells of his dismay in poetic letters written to his mother.

Eventually, the pair reach a lepers colony, buried deep in the Amazonian jungle, and volunteer their medical knowledge to help the people afflicted. Ernesto's experiences at the camp, though ultimately happy, profoundly impact on his feelings towards the government, nationality and life in general. He leaves the camp a changed man, before continuing his journey northwards and leaving his comrade in Venezuela. Motorcycle Diaries will do nothing to damage the image of Che Guevara. Throughout he is depicted as a knowledgeable and extremely compassionate human being and considering his future exploits, you can't help but feel that his death was a tragic waste for humanity. Fifty odd years on and with poverty still ravaging the globe, it is easy to see why such an icon has stood the test of time and still enjoys international reverence.

Motorcycle Diaries does not require strong political leanings or ideologies to enjoy. It is just an entertaining and enjoyable adventure laced with moments of good humour and youth energy. I enjoyed it much more than I anticipated.

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Brown love

Posted : 1 year ago on 17 November 2008 07:54 (A review of Jackie Brown)

Jackie Brown is surely one of Tarantino’s most underrated of films. That’s not really saying much, considering the media frenzy which usually surrounds everything that has his name on. Nevertheless, I felt that Jackie Brown deserved at least as much credit as Reservoir Dogs or Pulp Fiction; two other of Tarantino’s films which seem to ooze an unprecedented amount of acclaim. I held back from watching the movie simply because I hadn’t heard anything about it. I assumed QT had a dud on his hands, but that really isn’t the case.

I guess Jackie Brown was Tarantino’s first attempt at having a strong female lead as the films primary protagonist, and although it took me some time to get used to Pam Grier’s performance, I did end up liking the result. The plot is a classic gangster/money/scam/drugs affair that aided in building the reputation of the director. Jackie Brown is a simple airline hostess, press ganged into smuggling money and drugs back to the United States for a small-time gun-runner, played by Samuel L. Jackson. She is caught by law enforcement agents and it isn’t long before she is forced to co-operate with their investigation. Along with the addition of her bail bondsman, a story of deception burgeons as the police attempt to capture the gun-smuggler, whilst Jackie seeks to serve her own interests in the ordeal.

The film is accompanied by a funk-tastic soundtrack. One of the aspects that hit me the most was how perfect the musical accompaniment was to almost every scene. The actor to steal the show for me was Sam L. Jackson. His character, while initially portrayed as a witless cavalier, soon blossomed into a frightening mastermind who, at times, seemed to be the only character who was in control and knew what was happening. Michael Keaton appears as 100% comedic gold, playing the policeman who reeks of ineptitude. I don’t know what it is about this guy that makes him a total legend, but he seems like he’s having a lot of fun in every one of his roles.

I thought the only negative aspect to the casting was Robert De Niro, which is quite a claim. His part was almost entirely useless. I’m not sure if it was intended as some sort of pretentious irony, to have one of humanities greatest actors play such an unchallenging bit part, but it didn’t fly with me. To think that De Niro still had films like Heat to follow Jackie Brown, even in this late stage of his career, made me wonder why he ever agreed to accept this stoner character who was about as stimulating as a Lemming.

But after all is said and done, I enjoyed myself throughout, and it was refreshing to see some lesser known actors stealing some of the limelight. The soundtrack alone makes this film seem ultimately ‘cool’, and I don’t think it should be overlooked as a weaker Tarantino film.


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Snake knows no pain, Snake knows no fear!

Posted : 1 year ago on 6 November 2008 10:38 (A review of Metal Gear Solid 3: Snake Eater)

As a massive fan of the Metal Gear franchise I can say I am utterly ashamed at how long it has taken me to finally pick up and play this instalment. It wasn’t until I saw Snake’s weather-beaten face staring back at me from the cover of MGS: 4 on the shop shelves that made me realise I had some serious catching up to do before I could even contemplate such an extravagant purchase. At the time of its release I was initially fed mixed reviews about it from my friends. Some said it was only average while others enjoyed it immensely, despite their propensity for despising console gaming. I was hesitant myself due to the setting of MGS: 3 – the jungle, as well as the fact that it was a prequel to the previous Metal Gear games.

Considering Konami’s habit of releasing ‘satellite’ titles for the MGS series that act as supplementary games, I wondered if this instalment was supposed to be a standalone game or instead an integral part of the overall storyline. It’s most definitely the latter and I’m thoroughly glad I played it.

The game formats follows that of MGS:2 fairly closely, in that you take on a short initial mission that guides you through the basics of the game – such as hunting for food, camouflage, the radio system and sneaking basics – before you then undertake a related mission that serves as the bulk of the game. You play as Naked Snake, a character visually identical in appearance and speech to Solid Snake from previous games. From the very beginning of the game, references to previous instalments are present in abundance. For a start, Snake begins wearing a disguise to protect his identity, this disguise is a Raiden mask; then when jumping from a plane, Snake’s breathing mask apparatus resembles the Psycho Mantis mask from Metal Gear Solid.

These subtle nuances and references to previous games are what make Metal Gear games so rewarding to play as a gamer. The game constantly ‘breaks the fourth wall’ and treats the player as a spectator who has been through both the good and bad with Snake from the very beginning. On top of visual cues, radio conversations (which you can initiate at random) drop massive hints and foreboding warnings about what might happen in the future if genetic engineering, weapons development and other controversial endeavours are left unchecked. These work so well considering this game is a prequel set in the 1960s. When the radio medic makes a throwaway comment about Snake’s genes being coveted in the future, it ceases to be funny and instead triggers a moment of recognition in anyone who has played all of the MGS games (Snake’s genes being the basis of the Les Enfants Terrible project – and the Metal Gear Solid game). While most game developers might think this is a terrifically clever ploy and rub it in the face of a gamer, it is very easy to miss these pearls of wisdom in Snake Eater, as they sometimes only arise after repeated calls to your radio crew.

I started off thinking the game was worthy of an eight-out-of-ten. I was initially frustrated at the way the game handled for me. The immediate thing to notice is that Snake does not have a radar in the corner of the screen to tell him where enemies are. Granted, this isn’t a problem for gamers who played previous instalments on Extreme difficulty mode, but for me it began as a major frustration. This annoyance is compounded by the awkward camera angles. As a third-person game the camera can often do you no favours. I lost count how many times I had to run forward into an area, switch to first-person view, then run back to assess my plan of action. This gave guards ample time to detect me and generally shoot me to death. It took a lot longer than the initial ‘Virtuous Mission’ segment to get to grips with the controls and become confident as a stealth agent.

I then figured it was worthy of a nine-out-of-ten when I discovered how fulfilling the CQC system was. Using Close Quarters Combat, you can generally silently and ruthlessly dispatch, interrogate (and then dispatch) or knock out (and then kill!) any guard unfortunate to get close to you. The option to slit a guards throat is so instantly satisfying that I almost had the urge to go and try it out in real life. Of course, for the stealthier player, instant knockouts, or using guards as human shields/battering rams may be more satisfying (though I doubt it).

The storyline in comparison to MGS: 2 is infinitely more easy to follow. You are present to rescue a soviet scientist who is being forced to develop a mobile nuclear missile launcher. Set in the height of the Cold War, a renegade general plans to use the device to overthrow the Soviet Prime Minister and then presumably unite the world via a nuclear apocalypse. We can’t let that happen. Along the way, you are to deal with the ‘Queen of the American armed forces’ who has defected to the Soviet Union. She was Snake’s mentor, which breeds an intense relationship between the two as the game progresses. Finally, a band of almost supernatural freaks (much like Vamp et al., from MGS: 2) are also in cahoots with the renegade general and must be dealt with swiftly along the way.

Finally, as with every other Metal Gear Solid game, there are a number of Easter eggs along the way that can be discovered (often by accident) which are also very rewarding. Another example; during an early confrontation with a young Ocelot, Snake renders him unconscious before you resume control of him. If you then put a bullet in Ocelot’s head you are confronted with a Game Over screen and then reprimanded by your commanding officer over the radio for creating a ‘Time Paradox’. It’s exactly this kind of reason that makes a Metal Gear game so unlike any other to play. Given the amount of time I’ve spent recalling the plot over the last few days, I think I might eventually bump the rating to a ten-out-of-ten. If I can overcome the initial frustrations of being inadequate, there’s no reason this game is in any way inferior to its predecessors.


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Six(out of ten) shooter

Posted : 1 year ago on 6 November 2008 10:36 (A review of Unforgiven)

I’ve been trying to make up my mind on Unforgiven for the past few days. After seemingly going through a spell of watching only films that were situated in the American West, I thought I owed it to myself to watch Unforgiven, particularly due to the sheer amount of Academy Awards it has managed to win.

Directed by and starring Clint Eastwood, Unforgiven is a tale of old age. Formerly a notorious bandit, old father time has caught up with Eastwood’s character and he has since settled into an honest and unglamorous lifestyle, thanks to the gracious influence of his recently departed wife. Struggling financially with his two children and with a flock of animals who are unlikely to provide any income for the family, he is cajoled into accompanying a naive gunslinger to collect a bounty on the heads of two complete strangers. With his shooting, riding and basic ‘staying alive’ skills extremely rusty, he calls on his own former partner, Ned (Morgan Freeman), to assist in the murder. The relationship between the three men is predictable. With age and experience on their side, Eastwood and Freeman are easily frustrated by the youngster’s tall stories and elaborate boasting. On the flip side, with two legends of the west accompanying him, the young schemer feels invincible, yet still taunts his older companions.

Gene Hackman stars as a no-nonsense sheriff who bullies his town into obedience with public acts of brutal violence. It is not long before Eastwood et al. encounter the sheriff and are forcefully driven from his town. Hackman’s performance is a definite highlight of Unforgiven, his character demanding your initial admiration, before his ritualistic bullying causes a change of empathy. The question of whether age will prevent the bounty hunters from completing their mission is never really an issue and the initial theme of ‘murdering innocent men’ soon takes a back seat. Clint Eastwood never convinces in this role. I was surprised to see how unnatural and contrived a lot of the dialogue felt, that was perhaps my main problem with the film. All round the film is solid, in an average kind of way. The plot never bores, mainly thanks to Hackman’s performance, yet there is no real ‘thrill of the chase’, nor any unpredictability towards the climax of the film. I could’ve thought of a more fitting end, but instead Eastwood went with a Hollywood staple and blazed his way out of an impossible gun battle.

To be frank, I am surprised that the Academy awarded mediocrity so highly.


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Life End

Posted : 1 year ago on 6 November 2008 10:34 (A review of Week End)

I am thankful that I didn’t part with any of my own money in order to watch this film. I went into it with mildly high hopes due to its billing as an ‘apocalyptic road movie’. The back of the DVD case promises ‘cataclysmic traffic jams’, ‘rape, murder, pillage and even cannibalism’ – so why was it such a terrible viewing experience?

The films starts with a fairly humorous scene of a man being ‘brutally’ beaten over an incident of road rage. From the scene I assume that the film is going to be filled with this sort of black humour, and to its credit, it is. But just when you thought it was safe to laugh – DON’T! As we are constantly reminded not to by overbearing synth-strings whenever something profoundly disturbing happens. Whenever something isn’t funny (i.e dead children at the side of the road) – this ridiculous audio reminder seems to pipe up. Thanks very much, I was almost about to choke to death from laughter at the sight of dead children. From the introduction scene, we are then subjected to the female protagonist describe a sexual encounter she had in the past to her husband, who sits there smoking like an unconvincing film-noir detective.

Some semblance of plot follows as the two set out to visit one of their parents and attempt to claim an inheritance (via nefarious means if necessary). For a seemingly inexplicable reason, the French countryside if an absolute death trap for anyone who is driving. Road traffic accidents are everywhere and soon the couple are caught in a tailback which lasts for about ten minutes. The viewer is subjected to ten solid minutes of the speechless audio of car horns and engine sounds as the camera tracks the car through this ‘cataclysmic traffic jam’. It is so ‘cataclysmic’ that the other lane of traffic is open and they are driving along it seemingly unhindered. Maybe I was about thirty minutes into the film, but I’d reached my breaking point.

If I hadn’t tired of the film by then, it would’ve only been a matter of time. The couple eventually lose their car in their own traffic accident but persevere on foot. They are terribly greedy and materialistic, at times stopping to strip corpses of high end fashion items, as well as offering no help to those in need. The film devolves into some surrealist gibberish which then attempts to offer up profound musings on the dangers of consumerism and materialistic desires. Even remembering some of the freak encounters the couple has along their journey makes me angry that I ever bothered to sit through the film until the end. They meet a magician, one of the Bronte sisters (who they set on fire), a pianist (during which the director treats us to another terrific and ingenious scene – the camera spinning in a circle for ten minutes) and some dustbin men who happen to be intensely educated on the current affairs of African politics.

Along the way at random intervals, the screen blacks out and large blue lettering appears giving us such profound messages as “This is a film adrift in the cosmos” and “This is a film found in a scrap heap” which all reeked of a desperate art student trying to come up with something intellectually profound for his final year project. The ending offers no conclusion to the story, no character development and zero satisfaction. Despite the multiple cars that must’ve been smashed up to make this film, I’d hazard a guess that it was the plotline that took the biggest beating. Avoid at all costs, unless you are a final year art student looking for inspiration.


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Looks like Beirut in here...

Posted : 1 year, 2 months ago on 29 September 2008 05:57 (A review of The Flying Club Cup)

I tend to throw this word around a lot, but Beirut and this album are just sublime. I can not believe how young and talented one guy can be. The entire band play just about every instrument under the sun and the final result is something that resembles an Eastern Bloc carnival. Brass ensembles and traditional Balkan instruments provide the soundtrack to romantic evening strolls through the friendly French suburbs in The Flying Club Cup. It's definitely a more upbeat and relaxed album than it's predecessor. It often makes me wish I wasn't such a bitter and resentful person and instead the kind of guy who got to experience the festivities that seem to entwine casually with the life of Zach Condon.

This is something amazingly different yet completely solid on my media player. I've never had so much respect or admiration for a band! It's what music should be, he has an amazing voice and an immense talent for writing fantastic songs. His love affair with south eastern Europe and the Mediterranean translates into thoroughly enjoyable music.


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