*CAUTION: This review contains spoilers for Iron Man 3. If you haven't seen it and wish to do so, proceed with caution.*
If there is one superhero that has benefitted from the superhero film becoming big business, Iron Man is definitley the big mover.
The complicated character of weapons billionaire Tony Stark-turned-mechanic and planet saving lump of metal Iron Man has crept up to steal the Marvel show. Until the first Iron Man came out, Spiderman, Hulk and Captain America took the limelight of the Marvel back catalogue but the first Iron Man movie has made him one of the big superheroes, with Robert Downey Junior providing a spectacular showing in the titular role.
This success led to a 2nd installment even before superhero free-for-all Avengers Assemble came out this time last year.
Avengers was not the perfect movie but it was a very skilfully crafted creation with a great combination of superheroes. Perhaps because of this, or the big box office draw created by the previous ones, Avengers became the 3rd highest grossing film in history and the highest not to involve James Cameron.
Naturally, such a draw means another pile-on of films as Marvel begins "Phase Two", which also involves upcoming Thor and Captain America sequels in the next 12 months ahead of an Avengers 2, which will arrive in 2015.
Step one of this road sees the return of (arguably) the biggest Avenger. To follow it up, you need a massive film that can take the Avengers plot and - somehow - go further.
Somehow, they manage it.
Promotional material has been juggling around for months, with the shots of Iron Man's home being levelled by henchmen of the seemingly-formidable Madarin (Ben Kingsley) providing what you may think is a glimpse into the film. However, as it pans out, there's a few red herrings lurking.
As the promo indicates, we do get an early glimpse that all is not well in the mind of Stark. After flying into another dimension with a nuke and crash landing straight into New York City on the way out, Stark is suffering with huge insomnia and panic attacks. To evade this, he buries himself in further modifying and creating his Iron Men. His 42nd make is proving problematic but usable enough. However the creation is causing alienation between Stark and his girlfriend Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow)
This follows on from the opening gambit, which takes place in Switzerland on New Year's Eve 1999. This produces the set-up of the main ploy in the film - the Extremis virus. Stark thinks nothing of the threat at the time, simply bedding the virus creator Dr. Maya Hansen (Rebecca Hall) and blanking crippled scientist Aldrich Killian (Guy Pearce).
The union of Hansen & Killian soon creates its own surge, which takes off the moment Extremis-addled super-soldiers blow up the Stark compound.
Before the explosions, Stark is seen coming close to what eventually reveals itself as a central plot point. The Extremis virus, a major plotpoint in the comics, helps disabled people regrow limbs - a similar point to the lizard's machinery in the recent Spiderman reboot. However these people have a tendency to overheat and combust with huge heat signatures. We see one of these when one explodes outside the Hollywood Chinese Theatre.
This is followed by the Mandarin claiming credit for destroying a bastardised piece of Chinese-American culture. The Mandarin is seen as behind a range of explosions across America, where all registered huge heat signatures.
One has slipped through the net, and as a result Stark was planning to swing by a small town in Tennessee to check it out. As a result he winds up there, but on crash-arrival his suit runs out of power in the snow, leaving him stranded on the other side of America.
This is where the film takes a plot turn. Beforehand there had been echoes of a political thriller and the war on terror, which has been a long-running thread for entertainment since it started.
However here it moves into the classic "guy-who-has-everything-loses-it-all" territory. Not that this move is a bad thing - if anything it's a refreshing change of pace that allows more about the man behind the mask.
A lot of it hangs on the acting of Downey Jr, which is as accompished as ever. In the first three films to have Iron Man appearing in this guise, he has perfected a blend of arrogance, darkness and quippery and this one is another delightful airing.
Saying that, it does go almost too far when he translates this into departing a boy whose house he crashed in a wave of smartarse-ry.
Nevertheless, there's still a degree of trust in spite of the panic attacks. The Iron Man system is rebooted but soon trouble is emerging again, as Colonel Rhodes' re-painted War Machine (now the Iron Patriot, but still played by Don Cheadle) is taken in a trap in Pakistan when the broadcast hack came from Miami.
Having cracked the code and armed with nothing more than various modified stuff from a DIY store, Stark storms the broadcast compound where the Mandarin reaches the end of his role as villain. Not in the way you may expect, but it is a pretty amusing way with some interesting recollection on the roles of other tyrants.
From ths point, Killian takes over as the main bad guy. He's a nasty man, and his plans accelerate when he blows up Air Force One mid-flight and abducts both Potts and the American President.
This leads to the showstopping climax scene, which is a immensely well-crafted fight between the supersoldiers and all 42 Iron Men, which have remote access. This huge squabble then leads into a double-whammy of a cliffhanger end, which I won't spoil, but I will say it will lead to an interesting development when Tony Stark returns.
All sorts are going on. There's elements of spy film, political thrillers, political and business commentary, conspiracy fiction, some of the darker man-behind-the-mask vibes from The Dark Knight Rises and a few others, but it doesn't feel far removed from Iron Man 1 and 2.
If anything it feels like it's taken these and ran further. Each acting performance is impressive and act out a well-paced script. Everything blends together seamlessly in a very well-crafted piece of film.
If this is an omen for the rest of Marvel's Phase 2, we could be in line for some cinematic gold.
4.5/5
Friday, 26 April 2013
Sunday, 21 April 2013
The Luis Suarez Roadshow Continues
Say what you like about Liverpool's controversy magnet striker Luis Suarez, he doesn't half generate easy content.
Suarez the footballer and Suarez the idiot are two sides of the coin. For everytime the Uruguyan has a masterful performance, he often follows it up with a moment of controversy. This ranges from modern footballing evils like diving to more such stonking rule-bunding like deliberate handball and the downright unlawful like racism.
This weekend, both sides of Suarez reared their heads as Liverpool and Chelsea played out a match at Anfield. Suarez again showed he is key to the attacking play of this Liverpool side, playing many passes, having a sense of purpose when others (most notably Stewart Downing) didn't and being a firecracker up top.
This firecracker sense ended when he made two decisive contributions. The first an expert cross on par with the critically-acclaimed Gareth Bale delivery during the day's early kick-off for Spurs' equaliser. Then, with time ticking out, Suarez delivered a masterful header beyond Petr Cech to give Liverpool a share of the points and maintain any remote hopes Brendan Rodgers' side have of European qualification.
Admittedly he had set up Liverpool for a defeat with an unfortunate but correctly-penalised handball when unsighted by teammate Glen Johnson. But again his contribution heightened the sense that the striker, who is the Premier League's top scorer, is one of the biggest box office draws in the league at present.
However that contribution was overshadowed by the fact he really shouldn't have been on the field to score the goal in the first place.
With the score at 2-1 to Chelsea, Suarez and Chelsea's Serbian defender Branislav Ivanovic tussled for the ball on the edge of the six yard box. This tussle continued until Suarez, for some inexplicable reason, bit Ivanovic just over the elbow.
Suarez has previous, which has perhaps amplified the predictable reaction. While playing for Dutch side Ajax, Suarez bit then-PSV Eindhoven midfielder Otman Bakkal during a tussle towards the end of a fiery game. The "Ajax Cannibal" was duly handed a two game club ban, which was upgraded to a seven game league ban, and was duly sold to Liverpool shortly after.
The Premier League's only real precedent went by unnoticed. It came when Jermain Defoe reacted a mistimed tackle by then-West Ham midfielder Javier Mascherano by taking a nibble. This earnt him a yellow card, which is a bit much given the referee had indeed seen it, but then the England international hardly chomped down on his opponent like he was playing against an all-you-can-eat buffet.
It is an unusual offence and a long way from the common-place extreme offences including biting in ice hockey and rugby, or even the infamous game in Spanish football when a Sevilla player bit a teammate on the dick in celebration.
That one is a bit extreme but did happen.
While he may not have bitten Ivanovic on the dick - although the mocking would be a joy to behold - the more severe bite of Suarez's is likely to earn him a whopper of a ban.
Liverpool seem to have been more mature in dealing with their number 7's latest antics than they did on previous occasions. Their club's reputation was tarnished when Kenny Dalglish inexplicably defended Suarez after the FA had found him guilty of racially abusing Patrice Evra and Dalglish duly ducked the question.
This time Rodgers and club managing director Ian Ayre have come out and said he is an idiot, which is fair enough as he was. Suarez himself has also apologised, both in a statement and to the player himself. Any ban now would be justifiable, and it could arguably be left there. But then the worldwide focus of the game and endless coverage means it won't be the end of it.
All rhetoric surrounding the striker is amplified because he seems to get in trouble every week. The striker came with the reputation after a deliberate handball that denied Ghana a winning goal in a World Cup Quarter Final, and the afformentioned handball incident.
However things have got even more out of control since he put on the red shirt of Liverpool. Some of these have been petty, with Stoke's Tony Pulis in particular taking the biscuit after saying Suarez should've been banned for a simply hilarious dive.
Equally petty and dive-based was the comical dive in front of David Moyes after Everton's manager said his antics were ruining the Premier League ahead of a Merseyside Derby. Though at least these could be brushed off.
Some have been more serious, such as the Suarez-Evra debacle. The eight game ban was fair enough as it was proven he had used racist language, even if his explanation made little sense. This ban was also more uncomfortable was it was extended to nine when he brandished his middle finger at Fulham supporters.
Each individual incident earns it's own myriad spin. This is the way football coverage is nowadays - every voice rants and wails and divulges a tidal wave of opinion that duly swallows up debate.
But at the same time, there is surely a point when Liverpool fans must think "Is Suarez really worth the baggage?"
He is a talented player - one of the best in the league. Without him Liverpool would be nowhere near their current position as few of their players have 30 goals a season in them. But it's a painful situation to be in when the red mist descends, and there is no guarantee this is the last time.
The FA are duly going ahead with an investigation - though if recent form is anything by Suarez should get away with it - and Liverpool can duly assess what they can do with their talented idiot.
What they do is anyone's guess.
Suarez the footballer and Suarez the idiot are two sides of the coin. For everytime the Uruguyan has a masterful performance, he often follows it up with a moment of controversy. This ranges from modern footballing evils like diving to more such stonking rule-bunding like deliberate handball and the downright unlawful like racism.
This weekend, both sides of Suarez reared their heads as Liverpool and Chelsea played out a match at Anfield. Suarez again showed he is key to the attacking play of this Liverpool side, playing many passes, having a sense of purpose when others (most notably Stewart Downing) didn't and being a firecracker up top.
This firecracker sense ended when he made two decisive contributions. The first an expert cross on par with the critically-acclaimed Gareth Bale delivery during the day's early kick-off for Spurs' equaliser. Then, with time ticking out, Suarez delivered a masterful header beyond Petr Cech to give Liverpool a share of the points and maintain any remote hopes Brendan Rodgers' side have of European qualification.
Admittedly he had set up Liverpool for a defeat with an unfortunate but correctly-penalised handball when unsighted by teammate Glen Johnson. But again his contribution heightened the sense that the striker, who is the Premier League's top scorer, is one of the biggest box office draws in the league at present.
However that contribution was overshadowed by the fact he really shouldn't have been on the field to score the goal in the first place.
With the score at 2-1 to Chelsea, Suarez and Chelsea's Serbian defender Branislav Ivanovic tussled for the ball on the edge of the six yard box. This tussle continued until Suarez, for some inexplicable reason, bit Ivanovic just over the elbow.
Suarez has previous, which has perhaps amplified the predictable reaction. While playing for Dutch side Ajax, Suarez bit then-PSV Eindhoven midfielder Otman Bakkal during a tussle towards the end of a fiery game. The "Ajax Cannibal" was duly handed a two game club ban, which was upgraded to a seven game league ban, and was duly sold to Liverpool shortly after.
The Premier League's only real precedent went by unnoticed. It came when Jermain Defoe reacted a mistimed tackle by then-West Ham midfielder Javier Mascherano by taking a nibble. This earnt him a yellow card, which is a bit much given the referee had indeed seen it, but then the England international hardly chomped down on his opponent like he was playing against an all-you-can-eat buffet.
It is an unusual offence and a long way from the common-place extreme offences including biting in ice hockey and rugby, or even the infamous game in Spanish football when a Sevilla player bit a teammate on the dick in celebration.
That one is a bit extreme but did happen.
While he may not have bitten Ivanovic on the dick - although the mocking would be a joy to behold - the more severe bite of Suarez's is likely to earn him a whopper of a ban.
Liverpool seem to have been more mature in dealing with their number 7's latest antics than they did on previous occasions. Their club's reputation was tarnished when Kenny Dalglish inexplicably defended Suarez after the FA had found him guilty of racially abusing Patrice Evra and Dalglish duly ducked the question.
This time Rodgers and club managing director Ian Ayre have come out and said he is an idiot, which is fair enough as he was. Suarez himself has also apologised, both in a statement and to the player himself. Any ban now would be justifiable, and it could arguably be left there. But then the worldwide focus of the game and endless coverage means it won't be the end of it.
All rhetoric surrounding the striker is amplified because he seems to get in trouble every week. The striker came with the reputation after a deliberate handball that denied Ghana a winning goal in a World Cup Quarter Final, and the afformentioned handball incident.
However things have got even more out of control since he put on the red shirt of Liverpool. Some of these have been petty, with Stoke's Tony Pulis in particular taking the biscuit after saying Suarez should've been banned for a simply hilarious dive.
Equally petty and dive-based was the comical dive in front of David Moyes after Everton's manager said his antics were ruining the Premier League ahead of a Merseyside Derby. Though at least these could be brushed off.
Some have been more serious, such as the Suarez-Evra debacle. The eight game ban was fair enough as it was proven he had used racist language, even if his explanation made little sense. This ban was also more uncomfortable was it was extended to nine when he brandished his middle finger at Fulham supporters.
Each individual incident earns it's own myriad spin. This is the way football coverage is nowadays - every voice rants and wails and divulges a tidal wave of opinion that duly swallows up debate.
But at the same time, there is surely a point when Liverpool fans must think "Is Suarez really worth the baggage?"
He is a talented player - one of the best in the league. Without him Liverpool would be nowhere near their current position as few of their players have 30 goals a season in them. But it's a painful situation to be in when the red mist descends, and there is no guarantee this is the last time.
The FA are duly going ahead with an investigation - though if recent form is anything by Suarez should get away with it - and Liverpool can duly assess what they can do with their talented idiot.
What they do is anyone's guess.
Sunday, 14 April 2013
Betrayed By Football
Last week, everything looked rosy in the Newcastle United world.
Yes, the Europa League was looking a tough ask at 3-1 down to Benfica, but we had signs of possibly being able to topple the team, and with a 1-0 win over Fulham a giant stride towards Premier League survival had been made.
One week later, a 1-1 draw with Benfica meant it was close but no cigar. However it was the visit of Sunderland where everything has duly fallen to bits.
Many fans came into the Tyne-Wear Derby thinking that the Paolo di Canio factor had unsettled the Wearsiders. But the visitors circumvented this expectation with some style.
What went wrong this time?
As this season has gone on, we've all picked up a few things. The obvious one was that our squad is not large enough and despite the French influx in January, that remains true.
Obviously very few squads can cope with a massive injury problem and, with the previously reported figure of 70 injuries over the course of the season rapidly turning into 80, that was never going to help.
But that is little excuse for a team that was virtually first-choice getting floored by their counterparts today. Di Canio had been making noise in the week and that passion, clearly evident in three celebrations that Mourinho would've been proud of, rubbed off an accomplished display. You can debate all day long about how much he follows fascist beliefs but as a manager, he did exceptionally well.
Saying that, his team's ambition of victory were aided by a Newcastle performance so useless and inept it's a wonder that the squad have not been collectively dismissed.
Few players can argue with such a decision if they were.
Chief in the useless stakes were Jonas Gutierrez and Cheick Tiote. These two have been a hindrance virtually all season long. But here, they outdid themselves. Tiote was invisible in midfield with even his more combative attributes nowhere to be seen. This was despite Sunderland's central midfield being equally weak and often bypassed in favour of direct balls.
Helping this was Gutierrez, who after a few solid outings has sadly reverted to the waste of a shirt he spent the bulk of the season being. His assist for Sunderland's first was an impeccale example of uselessness and things hardly improved from there.
With Massadio Haidara returning significantly earlier than expected from McManaman-related injuries, it is imperative he gets game time as Gutierrez just isn't the full back he shows signs of being.
Beyond them and there was trouble everywhere. Yohan Cabaye was off-colour, Moussa Sissoko was invisible, Steven Taylor was overrun everytime he was challenged, Mapou Yanga-Mbiwa struggled with Danny Graham and Mathieu Debuchy was underwhelming.
While the other players had reasonable attempts of playing football, the presence of so many passengers meant Sunderland were bound to cause problems. Yes, an energetic display against Benfica was going to cause problems, but why not play more of the players who started that one on the bench?
We may have a thin squad but we do have a squad, and more of it should have been used. Plus, with five changes, surely we had enough players in reserve not fatigued enough to at least attempt getting a result.
Along with a tired team, there was also no tactical answer to a Sunderland side that acted like it had been inhaling pure caffeine in the dressing room pre-game. It defies belief that we had a system to counteract the high-tempo game Southampton bought to St. James' a few days after an energy-sapping Europa League contest, but then failed to bring it in for this one.
Some people can argue this is a "once in a blue moon" display - the kind that happens once in a generation at the end of a perfect storm. In one respect, that's true.
Things could well have gone differently had Papiss Cisse not had a goal incorrectly ruled offside by a linesman who seemed to be out-flummoxed by white paint.
Also not helping was a season-ending injury for Tim Krul. The Dutchman fell awkwardly on his shoulder and back into the treatment room a few weeks after leaving Ukraine on crutches with an ankle injury.
Sunderland's three goals were also pretty special. Aided by crap defending, perhaps, but the finishes from their players were equally impressive.
Their fans will be pleased to get a once in a blue moon result. Like we did with the impeccable 5-1 victory back in 2010, they had a performance and a result to saviour. As for us, we can also reflect this as a once in a blue moon when a perfect storm has conspired to give Sunderland a victory unprecedented in modern times.
But there's been plenty of "once in a blue moon" displays we've been on the wrong end of this season. The 7 goals at Arsenal. The shambolic ineptitude of the Brighton defeat. The unmitigated disaster at home to Reading. Assorted defeats to the likes of Swansea (twice), West Ham, Southampton, Stoke and Fulham - all teams we should be beating, and all teams who instead sussed us out and got the points.
Plus, with a few early decisions going their way, Sunderland could well have had more. We can have no complaints from a truly depressing game that puts serious questions on everything to do with the club.
At some point, all of this piles up and leads to questions being asked. It points to someone in the chain of command doing their job poorly, and leaving us up shit creek without a paddle.
Last season's 5th place finish was a majestic turn of events when the stars, for once, all lined up in the pattern we wanted to. This time around, chaos has ruled.
What of last season's LMA Manager of the Year, who was rightly heralded for that season?
The tipping point for Alan Pardew was the defeat by Reading in January. Had he been fired then, there would have been no argument. To do so now would be rash in the extreme, not least given he was since backed to the tune of £25million in January and has a squad that should be more than capable of keeping us in the Premier League, probably more.
Beyond then, a question has to be asked - is he good enough?
Tactically, things have been wrong virtually all season, from trying to please cry-baby Demba Ba, to leaving Papiss Cisse in a hold-it-up role he doesn't look suited for, to the continued selections of Tiote and Jonas.
Any other manager could have managed more than one away win, and certainly a better performance than this atrocity. They also could have fired up the players better, but instead both management and team looked flat thoroughout.
There is no question Pardew should keep the club in the league. He has the squad and should have the knowhow to at least do that. But we need to ask ourselves "Is he the right man for the future?"
He has five games to convince us that is the case, or a seemingly unthinkable change will have to be reality. His time starts now...
Yes, the Europa League was looking a tough ask at 3-1 down to Benfica, but we had signs of possibly being able to topple the team, and with a 1-0 win over Fulham a giant stride towards Premier League survival had been made.
One week later, a 1-1 draw with Benfica meant it was close but no cigar. However it was the visit of Sunderland where everything has duly fallen to bits.
Many fans came into the Tyne-Wear Derby thinking that the Paolo di Canio factor had unsettled the Wearsiders. But the visitors circumvented this expectation with some style.
What went wrong this time?
As this season has gone on, we've all picked up a few things. The obvious one was that our squad is not large enough and despite the French influx in January, that remains true.
Obviously very few squads can cope with a massive injury problem and, with the previously reported figure of 70 injuries over the course of the season rapidly turning into 80, that was never going to help.
But that is little excuse for a team that was virtually first-choice getting floored by their counterparts today. Di Canio had been making noise in the week and that passion, clearly evident in three celebrations that Mourinho would've been proud of, rubbed off an accomplished display. You can debate all day long about how much he follows fascist beliefs but as a manager, he did exceptionally well.
Saying that, his team's ambition of victory were aided by a Newcastle performance so useless and inept it's a wonder that the squad have not been collectively dismissed.
Few players can argue with such a decision if they were.
Chief in the useless stakes were Jonas Gutierrez and Cheick Tiote. These two have been a hindrance virtually all season long. But here, they outdid themselves. Tiote was invisible in midfield with even his more combative attributes nowhere to be seen. This was despite Sunderland's central midfield being equally weak and often bypassed in favour of direct balls.
Helping this was Gutierrez, who after a few solid outings has sadly reverted to the waste of a shirt he spent the bulk of the season being. His assist for Sunderland's first was an impeccale example of uselessness and things hardly improved from there.
With Massadio Haidara returning significantly earlier than expected from McManaman-related injuries, it is imperative he gets game time as Gutierrez just isn't the full back he shows signs of being.
Beyond them and there was trouble everywhere. Yohan Cabaye was off-colour, Moussa Sissoko was invisible, Steven Taylor was overrun everytime he was challenged, Mapou Yanga-Mbiwa struggled with Danny Graham and Mathieu Debuchy was underwhelming.
While the other players had reasonable attempts of playing football, the presence of so many passengers meant Sunderland were bound to cause problems. Yes, an energetic display against Benfica was going to cause problems, but why not play more of the players who started that one on the bench?
We may have a thin squad but we do have a squad, and more of it should have been used. Plus, with five changes, surely we had enough players in reserve not fatigued enough to at least attempt getting a result.
Along with a tired team, there was also no tactical answer to a Sunderland side that acted like it had been inhaling pure caffeine in the dressing room pre-game. It defies belief that we had a system to counteract the high-tempo game Southampton bought to St. James' a few days after an energy-sapping Europa League contest, but then failed to bring it in for this one.
Some people can argue this is a "once in a blue moon" display - the kind that happens once in a generation at the end of a perfect storm. In one respect, that's true.
Things could well have gone differently had Papiss Cisse not had a goal incorrectly ruled offside by a linesman who seemed to be out-flummoxed by white paint.
Also not helping was a season-ending injury for Tim Krul. The Dutchman fell awkwardly on his shoulder and back into the treatment room a few weeks after leaving Ukraine on crutches with an ankle injury.
Sunderland's three goals were also pretty special. Aided by crap defending, perhaps, but the finishes from their players were equally impressive.
Their fans will be pleased to get a once in a blue moon result. Like we did with the impeccable 5-1 victory back in 2010, they had a performance and a result to saviour. As for us, we can also reflect this as a once in a blue moon when a perfect storm has conspired to give Sunderland a victory unprecedented in modern times.
But there's been plenty of "once in a blue moon" displays we've been on the wrong end of this season. The 7 goals at Arsenal. The shambolic ineptitude of the Brighton defeat. The unmitigated disaster at home to Reading. Assorted defeats to the likes of Swansea (twice), West Ham, Southampton, Stoke and Fulham - all teams we should be beating, and all teams who instead sussed us out and got the points.
Plus, with a few early decisions going their way, Sunderland could well have had more. We can have no complaints from a truly depressing game that puts serious questions on everything to do with the club.
At some point, all of this piles up and leads to questions being asked. It points to someone in the chain of command doing their job poorly, and leaving us up shit creek without a paddle.
Last season's 5th place finish was a majestic turn of events when the stars, for once, all lined up in the pattern we wanted to. This time around, chaos has ruled.
What of last season's LMA Manager of the Year, who was rightly heralded for that season?
The tipping point for Alan Pardew was the defeat by Reading in January. Had he been fired then, there would have been no argument. To do so now would be rash in the extreme, not least given he was since backed to the tune of £25million in January and has a squad that should be more than capable of keeping us in the Premier League, probably more.
Beyond then, a question has to be asked - is he good enough?
Tactically, things have been wrong virtually all season, from trying to please cry-baby Demba Ba, to leaving Papiss Cisse in a hold-it-up role he doesn't look suited for, to the continued selections of Tiote and Jonas.
Any other manager could have managed more than one away win, and certainly a better performance than this atrocity. They also could have fired up the players better, but instead both management and team looked flat thoroughout.
There is no question Pardew should keep the club in the league. He has the squad and should have the knowhow to at least do that. But we need to ask ourselves "Is he the right man for the future?"
He has five games to convince us that is the case, or a seemingly unthinkable change will have to be reality. His time starts now...
Friday, 12 April 2013
Dark Skies - Film Review
*CAUTION: This review contains spoilers for Dark Skies. If you haven't seen it and wish to do so, proceed with caution.*
Horror films are a strange breed in contemporary cinema. The idea of short-sharp shock to the system that give people a super-shot of adrenaline is as old as film itself - indeed, the first film ever shown in public was of a train filmed so it came towards the audience, which terrified the people of the time.
They are also relatively straight forward to make, which explains why there's almost always several horror films in the cinema at once. But after a while there's an issue of horror films blending into one.
Certain cliches pop up time after time, particularly in films that have a run of build-up franchises like Saw and Final Destination.
More recently, the Paranormal Activity film behemoth with it's own repetetive visual language has stormed the world of horror. Films with creeping up, possession of kids and 'found video footage' from static security cameras are the new hot ticket, free for excessive parodying by the underwhelming Scary Movie franchise.
But it's also free for the producers, buoyed by such success, to go on and attempt slightly-differing recreations of this format.
Lo and behold, the producers of both this have their new recreation. Dark Skies is an attempt to marry the Paranormal Activity blueprint to a conspiracy-based covert alien invasion thing, similar to the Silence in the 2011 series of Doctor Who.
The story is set early on. We're introduced to the Barrett family - an implausibly glamorous middle class family with Daniel, a struggling architect dad, Lacy, a moderately-succesful estate agent mum and two sons, Jesse and Sam.
Early on there's the slightly strange way to unsettle when all the vegetables are eaten from their fridge - a plot point that never actually gets explained. This is then followed up with an unusual art installation made of all the cans and food packages, and all the photos from the living room are stolen.
The police think the kids did it, while the security system company are confused. Daniel wants to ignore it because his financial issues are giving him enough grief. However things get more inexplicable.
The first is the more bizarre point of Sammy pissing himself and screaming in the middle of a park, which oddly recalls a South Park parody of Ghost Hunters. Soon enough, 800 birds suicide-dive into their house in a cliche move of animals behaving weird. Sammy then runs outside in the middle of the night after being potentially abducted by a ghostly grey individual, with no recollection of how he moved. Then Lacy is affected when she freezes, bashes her head against a glass door, blacks out and gets suspended.
Trouble is, this is all cliche. It all feels that, although the cast is doing well to perform the script, it just feels lazy.
Daniel duly engages in a sort-of avalanche nosebleed, just as Lacy discovers the potential alien intent. This is the point where the film tries to move from sub-standard horror cliche into a more sci-fi conspiracy mood, with references to the Alaskan HAARP program, simultaneous bird deaths, children's drawings of tall grey men and the like.
Around this point the Paranormal Activity section is thrown in, with a video camera feed that frequently flickers.
It also turns into the "they're coming up with this bullshit to distract them from neglicence rumours" storyline. Outsiders believe they're abusing the children, with Sammy covered in purple marks and Jesse covered in a bizarre red crop-circle like painting after he is hospitalised with a BB gun wound/possession.
Of course, you're not going to help by beating up the kids' friends and duly getting punched in the face by the kid's dad. But that doesn't stop Daniel beating up Jessie's friend Ratner, and duly getting floored by Ratner's dad.
After that night sees Sammy sport black holes for eyes and video camera footage reveals dark figures standing over the beds, we're duly introduced to the conspiracy specialist.
Edwin Pollard, who looks a little like Rupert Murdoch, explains the presence of aliens that have secretly taken over the world and regularly adbuct children on a mysterious level. He informs them that they are bugs in the alien system and that there is nothing to do to escape them apart from keeping Sammy, who they think is the target.
They get a dog, a gun and chipboard for windows, and try to stick together but ultimately it's too late as they're hunted down. The greys at this point are fairly freaky, but not spectacularly so.
A prequisite twist comes at the point abduction, before a final move away, and a final contact with the abducted kid ends the film on 97 minutes, which is probably fair enough.
Ultimately the film has good actors and some mildly scary moments, but it seems to be a cliche horror script bolted and remade with a conspiracy concept that has been done better in other films. There's nothing extremely terrible about it all and for what it is it's an alright job but it just feels a bit cliche and unremarkable. There are certainly better films out there to see.
2.5/5
Horror films are a strange breed in contemporary cinema. The idea of short-sharp shock to the system that give people a super-shot of adrenaline is as old as film itself - indeed, the first film ever shown in public was of a train filmed so it came towards the audience, which terrified the people of the time.
They are also relatively straight forward to make, which explains why there's almost always several horror films in the cinema at once. But after a while there's an issue of horror films blending into one.
Certain cliches pop up time after time, particularly in films that have a run of build-up franchises like Saw and Final Destination.
More recently, the Paranormal Activity film behemoth with it's own repetetive visual language has stormed the world of horror. Films with creeping up, possession of kids and 'found video footage' from static security cameras are the new hot ticket, free for excessive parodying by the underwhelming Scary Movie franchise.
But it's also free for the producers, buoyed by such success, to go on and attempt slightly-differing recreations of this format.
Lo and behold, the producers of both this have their new recreation. Dark Skies is an attempt to marry the Paranormal Activity blueprint to a conspiracy-based covert alien invasion thing, similar to the Silence in the 2011 series of Doctor Who.
The story is set early on. We're introduced to the Barrett family - an implausibly glamorous middle class family with Daniel, a struggling architect dad, Lacy, a moderately-succesful estate agent mum and two sons, Jesse and Sam.
Early on there's the slightly strange way to unsettle when all the vegetables are eaten from their fridge - a plot point that never actually gets explained. This is then followed up with an unusual art installation made of all the cans and food packages, and all the photos from the living room are stolen.
The police think the kids did it, while the security system company are confused. Daniel wants to ignore it because his financial issues are giving him enough grief. However things get more inexplicable.
The first is the more bizarre point of Sammy pissing himself and screaming in the middle of a park, which oddly recalls a South Park parody of Ghost Hunters. Soon enough, 800 birds suicide-dive into their house in a cliche move of animals behaving weird. Sammy then runs outside in the middle of the night after being potentially abducted by a ghostly grey individual, with no recollection of how he moved. Then Lacy is affected when she freezes, bashes her head against a glass door, blacks out and gets suspended.
Trouble is, this is all cliche. It all feels that, although the cast is doing well to perform the script, it just feels lazy.
Daniel duly engages in a sort-of avalanche nosebleed, just as Lacy discovers the potential alien intent. This is the point where the film tries to move from sub-standard horror cliche into a more sci-fi conspiracy mood, with references to the Alaskan HAARP program, simultaneous bird deaths, children's drawings of tall grey men and the like.
Around this point the Paranormal Activity section is thrown in, with a video camera feed that frequently flickers.
It also turns into the "they're coming up with this bullshit to distract them from neglicence rumours" storyline. Outsiders believe they're abusing the children, with Sammy covered in purple marks and Jesse covered in a bizarre red crop-circle like painting after he is hospitalised with a BB gun wound/possession.
Of course, you're not going to help by beating up the kids' friends and duly getting punched in the face by the kid's dad. But that doesn't stop Daniel beating up Jessie's friend Ratner, and duly getting floored by Ratner's dad.
After that night sees Sammy sport black holes for eyes and video camera footage reveals dark figures standing over the beds, we're duly introduced to the conspiracy specialist.
Edwin Pollard, who looks a little like Rupert Murdoch, explains the presence of aliens that have secretly taken over the world and regularly adbuct children on a mysterious level. He informs them that they are bugs in the alien system and that there is nothing to do to escape them apart from keeping Sammy, who they think is the target.
They get a dog, a gun and chipboard for windows, and try to stick together but ultimately it's too late as they're hunted down. The greys at this point are fairly freaky, but not spectacularly so.
A prequisite twist comes at the point abduction, before a final move away, and a final contact with the abducted kid ends the film on 97 minutes, which is probably fair enough.
Ultimately the film has good actors and some mildly scary moments, but it seems to be a cliche horror script bolted and remade with a conspiracy concept that has been done better in other films. There's nothing extremely terrible about it all and for what it is it's an alright job but it just feels a bit cliche and unremarkable. There are certainly better films out there to see.
2.5/5
Thursday, 21 March 2013
Biffy Clyro at Birmingham LG Arena - Live Review
After the dark depths of making the new record, Biffy Clyro look like they're heading for superstardom.
New double album Opposites had a problematic manufacturing process, as miscarraiges and alcoholism made life pretty depressing for camp Biffy - it almost drove them to a break-up. But after making it through that, they've done the full Shawshank Redemption and come out the sewer pipe smelling of roses.
A number one album and a UK arena tour that includes a sell-out night at the O2 in London are exceptional statuses for any of band, and the big league could well beckon if they play their cards right at this summer's Reading Festival headline slot.
Night two of their arena trip brings them to a shiny pink shed on the outskirts of Birmingham. Here is the test - to see if they can get an arena of over 11,000 shivering Brummies on their feet.
The show begun well-restrained, with just Simon Neil in front of a white curtain as the church organ intro of Different People reverberated around the room. Through the curtain the band's stage show began to glow through it until the curtain revealed the band and the huge skeleton tree looming large. This was a mightily impressive feature, with one similarly impressive touch being the sheer number of people with high-vis jackets, hard hates and drills taking it down after the show ended.
A rowdy crowd lapped it up, and then went into overdrive as the pummelling sensory assault of That Golden Rule almost blew the roof off the venue. Not bad for the 2nd song.
The song was also the only old song in the first six, with all the others coming off new double record Opposites. Not that the crowd seemed to care too much. Crowds can often be tempermental with new stuff but this crowd lapped up a smooth trio of heavy rockers and was also appreciative towards the title track - the evening's first slower song.
Predictably a rather rowdy crowd went truly epic for the hits. A one-two of Living Is A Problem Because Everything Dies and Bubbles sent the standing section into a mood beyond overdrive. It helped the performances were similarly well done.
The band piled in songs, with new ones sharing time with old fan favourites like A Day Of... and There's No Such Thing As A Jaggy Snake. More remarkable was the lack of a drop in quality, with the band sustaining a well oiled groove.
There was a brief period to chill too, with The Thaw accompanied by a blizzard visual that ironically predicted the weather forecast we were greeted with upon leaving the venue. This was sandwiched by solo performances of God & Satan and Machines, which both allowed the crowd to sing.
A final run through of all sort of music concluded the main set, with a euphoric Picture A Knife Fight and a well run rendition of The Captain closing things out. This preceded a well worked triple song encore, which ended the show.
This was a great show in every sense. There was a spectacular show that didn't provide an hold to a spontaneous show, while hits and fan favourites. The whole venue was able to slink off into the cold at the end of the gig sufficiently warmed by such a wonderful occasion.
4.5/5
Also in tow at the venue was City and Colour, which is the recording alias of Canadian singer/songwriter Dallas Green. They provided a 45 minute set of chilled out music which was reasonable, if a little bit forgettable. However the crowd was reasonably receptive and considering they'd just flown over from the USA they did well enough.
New double album Opposites had a problematic manufacturing process, as miscarraiges and alcoholism made life pretty depressing for camp Biffy - it almost drove them to a break-up. But after making it through that, they've done the full Shawshank Redemption and come out the sewer pipe smelling of roses.
A number one album and a UK arena tour that includes a sell-out night at the O2 in London are exceptional statuses for any of band, and the big league could well beckon if they play their cards right at this summer's Reading Festival headline slot.
Night two of their arena trip brings them to a shiny pink shed on the outskirts of Birmingham. Here is the test - to see if they can get an arena of over 11,000 shivering Brummies on their feet.
The show begun well-restrained, with just Simon Neil in front of a white curtain as the church organ intro of Different People reverberated around the room. Through the curtain the band's stage show began to glow through it until the curtain revealed the band and the huge skeleton tree looming large. This was a mightily impressive feature, with one similarly impressive touch being the sheer number of people with high-vis jackets, hard hates and drills taking it down after the show ended.
A rowdy crowd lapped it up, and then went into overdrive as the pummelling sensory assault of That Golden Rule almost blew the roof off the venue. Not bad for the 2nd song.
The song was also the only old song in the first six, with all the others coming off new double record Opposites. Not that the crowd seemed to care too much. Crowds can often be tempermental with new stuff but this crowd lapped up a smooth trio of heavy rockers and was also appreciative towards the title track - the evening's first slower song.
Predictably a rather rowdy crowd went truly epic for the hits. A one-two of Living Is A Problem Because Everything Dies and Bubbles sent the standing section into a mood beyond overdrive. It helped the performances were similarly well done.
The band piled in songs, with new ones sharing time with old fan favourites like A Day Of... and There's No Such Thing As A Jaggy Snake. More remarkable was the lack of a drop in quality, with the band sustaining a well oiled groove.
There was a brief period to chill too, with The Thaw accompanied by a blizzard visual that ironically predicted the weather forecast we were greeted with upon leaving the venue. This was sandwiched by solo performances of God & Satan and Machines, which both allowed the crowd to sing.
A final run through of all sort of music concluded the main set, with a euphoric Picture A Knife Fight and a well run rendition of The Captain closing things out. This preceded a well worked triple song encore, which ended the show.
This was a great show in every sense. There was a spectacular show that didn't provide an hold to a spontaneous show, while hits and fan favourites. The whole venue was able to slink off into the cold at the end of the gig sufficiently warmed by such a wonderful occasion.
4.5/5
Also in tow at the venue was City and Colour, which is the recording alias of Canadian singer/songwriter Dallas Green. They provided a 45 minute set of chilled out music which was reasonable, if a little bit forgettable. However the crowd was reasonably receptive and considering they'd just flown over from the USA they did well enough.
Monday, 18 March 2013
Referees, Referees, Referees
The referee in football is undoubtedly the main figure who get a kicking.
Games of high incident that involve controversial moments often result in mass scrutiny of the ref, hence why any ref will have other refs to analyse his performance in ridiculous detail.
Logic dictates refs should have more to help them make difficult calls, but with goal line technology still causing lots of debate the likelihood of it being applied pitch-wide is even more remote. It is also unhelpful if linesmen do not provide aid.
There is often complaints that the standard of refereeing is plummeting. But weekends like the one just gone do not help their cause at all.
The headline decision was the antics of Mark Halsey, who was referee during Sunday's Wigan vs Newcastle game. The big talking point came after a horrendous tackle from Wigan winger Callum McManaman left Newcastle full back Massadio Haidara requiring a stretcher and extra medical attention. At the time, the Wigan winger escaped with the eventual Newcastle free-kick having been awarded for handball by the same player.
The referee can fairly claim that his view was blocked by a retreating Newcatle player but there is no excuse for the assistant linesman, who had an almost head-on view of the incident and completley ignored it.
Toon fans have been here before, with Kyle Walker, Sebastian Larsson and Antonio Valencia all getting away with awful tackles this season and the headline example from 2010 when Nigel de Jong got away with a rotten tackle that almost forced Hatem Ben Arfa into retirement.
Of course opposition fans can mock given that Cheick Tiote and Yohan Cabaye have reputations of their own for such challenges, plus an extremely idiotic Kevin Nolan challenge that led to Victor Anichebe - the recipient - sueing him.
Such a challenge can happen with any team and had the reverse happened few Newcastle fans could have complained if Haidara had been red carded, like Nolan was in 2009 and like Everton's Mirallas should have been for a poor tackle on Ryo Myiachi during the Everton-Wigan Cup game the week before. But all of this is beside the point - it happened here with these players and you would duly expect a red card.
But from the moment McManaman got away with it the game was immediately changed. No red card would have meant no half-time scuffle involving Newcastle assistant manager John Carver, a Wigan academy coach, several stewards and the last players to leave the pitch before half-time. It also would likely have meant Wigan would not have had the bodies to throw forward for a last minute winner that should have been chalked off anyway for a ridiculous handball.
If it had just been this game, the Referee Association could be purely concerned with what went on here and move on but aside from the long running threads of ineptitude all season long it was a pretty awful weekend all round for them.
Trouble began in the Saturday afternoon game between Everton and Manchester City, where Lee Probert got a number of decisions incorrect. Early on saw Everton get a goal incorrectly ruled out for an offside. While one player had been off, Marouane Fellaini was not when he received the ball moments before he fired it beyond Joe Hart.
Everton also had a valid penalty shout for a foul by Nastasic on Fellaini, and also felt aggrieved an unusually scrappy performance from James Milner did not receive the second yellow card some meaty challenges deserved.
But the most baffling decision came the other way when Fellaini handled five yards inside the box and Probert, somehow, awarded a free-kick outside the box. This decision defied logic, comprehension and general eyesight.
Sunderland-Norwich was the other game where the referee's decision making was integral to match reporting. This begun when away goalkeeper Mark Bunn was ruled to have handled the ball outside the box and duly earned a red card.
This is debatable because of the angle it hit the away keeper, and TV angles do not show it clearly hitting either his chest or his elbow. Based on this doubt, you can't be sure as to send the man off.
Already aggreived by this, Norwich then complained more with handballs at both ends. The first came when Sebastien Bassong's attempt to control the ball with his chest saw the ball hit his arm, and the second when Danny Rose was ruled to have punched the ball outside the box when he was about three or four yards in.
The bigger howler is the Rose one. Although not as clear as Fellaini's handball, it was definitley inside the box and it should have been a penalty to Norwich rather than a free-kick. However the penalty was one - it was unfortunate but it was a spot-kick for the hosts.
Norwich also could arguably have had Grant Holt sent off for a forceful dive into home goalkeeper Simon Mignolet, which was punished with a yellow. Had Bunn not earlier been ejected or had Mignolet been seriously injured then he might well have been.
Fans are always happy and ready to moan about the performance of the referee but moreso than usual, referees have become painted as incompetent figures who can't control football. There was wall-to-wall condemnation of the Turkish referee who sent off Nani during the Manchester United-Real Madrid Champions League tie for what was at worst just a foul.
Naturally, things spiral out of control when such poor decision making is abound. It is ridiculous to say Bunn and Nani's offences were more than McManaman's tackle.
All season long there have been repeated howlers that have screwed things up, and it has been a lot more noticeable than in previous seasons. Ironically, the chief gripe of previous years - the goalline technology debate - has not been wheeled out as much as in previous seasons.
Other sports seem to have grasped better disciplinary concepts to control things when they go wrong. They also seem to have more control on referees when they go wrong. But in football whole games still revolve on the judgement on referees and when they get it wrong, games are distorted beyond recognition.
The FA's disciplinary proceedings are also remarkably poor. They leave referees out to dry, but also by protecting them accept their mistakes as genuine passages, which helps nobody either. It's all a mess that needs reform or else it leaves further trouble a guarantee.
At some point there will be an incident that leads to the whole house of cards caving in. But until then this structure will remain.
More needs to be done to stop what is arguably one of football's hardest jobs becoming not so much harder as impossible. Instead, referee standards are decreasing at an alarming rate, and refereeing howlers are becoming a weekly fiasco. Unfortunately, it seems a few more tackles like McManaman's will pass before something's done about it.
Games of high incident that involve controversial moments often result in mass scrutiny of the ref, hence why any ref will have other refs to analyse his performance in ridiculous detail.
Logic dictates refs should have more to help them make difficult calls, but with goal line technology still causing lots of debate the likelihood of it being applied pitch-wide is even more remote. It is also unhelpful if linesmen do not provide aid.
There is often complaints that the standard of refereeing is plummeting. But weekends like the one just gone do not help their cause at all.
The headline decision was the antics of Mark Halsey, who was referee during Sunday's Wigan vs Newcastle game. The big talking point came after a horrendous tackle from Wigan winger Callum McManaman left Newcastle full back Massadio Haidara requiring a stretcher and extra medical attention. At the time, the Wigan winger escaped with the eventual Newcastle free-kick having been awarded for handball by the same player.
The referee can fairly claim that his view was blocked by a retreating Newcatle player but there is no excuse for the assistant linesman, who had an almost head-on view of the incident and completley ignored it.
Toon fans have been here before, with Kyle Walker, Sebastian Larsson and Antonio Valencia all getting away with awful tackles this season and the headline example from 2010 when Nigel de Jong got away with a rotten tackle that almost forced Hatem Ben Arfa into retirement.
Of course opposition fans can mock given that Cheick Tiote and Yohan Cabaye have reputations of their own for such challenges, plus an extremely idiotic Kevin Nolan challenge that led to Victor Anichebe - the recipient - sueing him.
Such a challenge can happen with any team and had the reverse happened few Newcastle fans could have complained if Haidara had been red carded, like Nolan was in 2009 and like Everton's Mirallas should have been for a poor tackle on Ryo Myiachi during the Everton-Wigan Cup game the week before. But all of this is beside the point - it happened here with these players and you would duly expect a red card.
But from the moment McManaman got away with it the game was immediately changed. No red card would have meant no half-time scuffle involving Newcastle assistant manager John Carver, a Wigan academy coach, several stewards and the last players to leave the pitch before half-time. It also would likely have meant Wigan would not have had the bodies to throw forward for a last minute winner that should have been chalked off anyway for a ridiculous handball.
If it had just been this game, the Referee Association could be purely concerned with what went on here and move on but aside from the long running threads of ineptitude all season long it was a pretty awful weekend all round for them.
Trouble began in the Saturday afternoon game between Everton and Manchester City, where Lee Probert got a number of decisions incorrect. Early on saw Everton get a goal incorrectly ruled out for an offside. While one player had been off, Marouane Fellaini was not when he received the ball moments before he fired it beyond Joe Hart.
Everton also had a valid penalty shout for a foul by Nastasic on Fellaini, and also felt aggrieved an unusually scrappy performance from James Milner did not receive the second yellow card some meaty challenges deserved.
But the most baffling decision came the other way when Fellaini handled five yards inside the box and Probert, somehow, awarded a free-kick outside the box. This decision defied logic, comprehension and general eyesight.
Sunderland-Norwich was the other game where the referee's decision making was integral to match reporting. This begun when away goalkeeper Mark Bunn was ruled to have handled the ball outside the box and duly earned a red card.
This is debatable because of the angle it hit the away keeper, and TV angles do not show it clearly hitting either his chest or his elbow. Based on this doubt, you can't be sure as to send the man off.
Already aggreived by this, Norwich then complained more with handballs at both ends. The first came when Sebastien Bassong's attempt to control the ball with his chest saw the ball hit his arm, and the second when Danny Rose was ruled to have punched the ball outside the box when he was about three or four yards in.
The bigger howler is the Rose one. Although not as clear as Fellaini's handball, it was definitley inside the box and it should have been a penalty to Norwich rather than a free-kick. However the penalty was one - it was unfortunate but it was a spot-kick for the hosts.
Norwich also could arguably have had Grant Holt sent off for a forceful dive into home goalkeeper Simon Mignolet, which was punished with a yellow. Had Bunn not earlier been ejected or had Mignolet been seriously injured then he might well have been.
Fans are always happy and ready to moan about the performance of the referee but moreso than usual, referees have become painted as incompetent figures who can't control football. There was wall-to-wall condemnation of the Turkish referee who sent off Nani during the Manchester United-Real Madrid Champions League tie for what was at worst just a foul.
Naturally, things spiral out of control when such poor decision making is abound. It is ridiculous to say Bunn and Nani's offences were more than McManaman's tackle.
All season long there have been repeated howlers that have screwed things up, and it has been a lot more noticeable than in previous seasons. Ironically, the chief gripe of previous years - the goalline technology debate - has not been wheeled out as much as in previous seasons.
Other sports seem to have grasped better disciplinary concepts to control things when they go wrong. They also seem to have more control on referees when they go wrong. But in football whole games still revolve on the judgement on referees and when they get it wrong, games are distorted beyond recognition.
The FA's disciplinary proceedings are also remarkably poor. They leave referees out to dry, but also by protecting them accept their mistakes as genuine passages, which helps nobody either. It's all a mess that needs reform or else it leaves further trouble a guarantee.
At some point there will be an incident that leads to the whole house of cards caving in. But until then this structure will remain.
More needs to be done to stop what is arguably one of football's hardest jobs becoming not so much harder as impossible. Instead, referee standards are decreasing at an alarming rate, and refereeing howlers are becoming a weekly fiasco. Unfortunately, it seems a few more tackles like McManaman's will pass before something's done about it.
Monday, 11 March 2013
The Repetitive Case Of Justin Bieber
When you want to avoid certain items in the news they seem to jump out even more.
Modern news is particularly notorious at creating firestorms of publicity. Whenever a story is big and the editors think it might get them attention they duly create some more leads on it. It also helps when the story gives them further cause to do so.
The case of everyone's favourite pop prat Justin Bieber can, at first glance, be filed under one favourite story - the stalking of gossip celebs as they implode. This was its worst when Britney Spears had an almost complete breakdown and everyone followed her with cameras, if not quite to the extent to the episode of South Park where she's actively hunted by paps to help the harvest.
His attention is amplified by his fanbase, who regularly pollute Twitter with vapid meaningless nonsense. All pop music fanbases have segments that act like cult worship, but the sheer numbers means other fanbases.
Until last Sunday, Bieber was enjoying a fairly straight forward tour on these shores. His fans were going home from arenas up and down the land happy, reviews were reasonable and it was all going incident free as he prepared for his birthday. Then, as the news and Twitter have been at pains to discuss, it all imploded from there.
In case you don't know what happened next, he then got turned away from a posh London nightclub for trying to bring in his 14 year old friends, turned up somewhere between 45 minutes and 2 hours late to his first show at the O2 Arena, fainted on stage during the 3rd night, got accused of faking fainting on stage and then got caught swearing at paps outside his hotel while dressed like an idiot.
He was due to appear on Ant & Dec's Saturday Night Takeaway on Saturday but pulled out, choosing instead to mope round Harrod's about how he's never gonna return to our country. This has been predictably met with Twitter reaction, albeit more of the good riddance variety.
Sadly for them their hopes of a Bieber no-show have gone unheeded as it appears he will return to our country. He also denied rumours he skipped out on the TV appearance but at this rate it's all unknown how much of this is true and false, as it always is in matters like this.
Far from being content to have a nightmare jaunt on our shores he's continued apace in Europe, preferring to spend time in Amsterdam than actually preparing for two concerts in Lisbon, and then duly cancelling one due to 'unforseen circumstances' - those circumstancs presumably being no one bought any tickets.
It does feel like we've heard this song before, a bit like with Bieber's music. There are stroppy sides to pop stars and to teenagers, of which Bieber fits in both categories.
It's unverified if he was being a diva but it would make sense given that pop stars are known for sulking when their outrageous demands aren't met, and teenagers are also privy to doing that same thing.
Pop stars are always in that situation of being love-or-hate figures that seem to struggle with success. They may well have money to burn and the adoration of millions but it can be a solitary lifestyle, not least the shallow nature of people who want you for the celebrity rather than the real person.
Obviously we all think pop stardom is a pretty sweet life, then duly watch the whole artifice collapse. Michael Jackson, an idol to billions, was the case in point as he changed beyond all recognition from being a teen star into a drug-induced plastic shell. It's cliche that pop stars go from fresh-faced cherub to posturing drug-addicted arses that the gossip pages attempt to stalk to the grave. But of course, if you sell 35 million records, you're bound to get attention.
Being famous is a strange case and it can fuck with your head. Certainly, being loaded skews your viewpoint on the world - hence trying to bring underage kids into nightclubs. It also doesn't help when there's a horde of paparazzi photographers, agents, minders, helpers and fans all following your every move like a real life TV show, and making sure that the show continuously moves on the road.
Bieber's annoying fanbase are also not helpful by constantly demanding more from their idol. This in turns means he gives them more, and in turn means more is wanted, leading to stalking for more information.
It's a long from the mystique of when idols like Jagger and Bowie were secretly (and not-so-secretly) on the drug wagon. It also means all melodramatic instances are playing out in public, leading to public meltdowns like last week.
Of course it could all be an act to drive publicity. I've never met Justin Bieber and for all the posturing and terrible music he's probably a reasonable chap underneath, even if some of his antics are the kind of acts a dick might get up to.
But the fact is the Bieber industry is supermassive. He's worth £35million, he and his label employs many people to ensure he puts on a live show his fans can scream themselves into disorientation at and he's one of the biggest names in pop. He's basically the key cog, sort of like Coca-Cola are in the fizzy pop business.
Being the big name also attracts attention. It's why there were 1430586 articles on him in the wake of his late show at the O2 arena, all examining his mindest, interview his fans, asking questions of his company, speculating on why he's done so. Anyone apathetic to the whole situation or not keen on his dull musical stylings is obviously not going to be as arsed to discuss a topic that seems to range from being exhausted to having an avalance of press.
With that sort of pressure its probably a wonder he hasn't gone on a bender like this sooner. Where he goes from here, bar fighting paps in bars at 3am, is anyone's guess.
Modern news is particularly notorious at creating firestorms of publicity. Whenever a story is big and the editors think it might get them attention they duly create some more leads on it. It also helps when the story gives them further cause to do so.
The case of everyone's favourite pop prat Justin Bieber can, at first glance, be filed under one favourite story - the stalking of gossip celebs as they implode. This was its worst when Britney Spears had an almost complete breakdown and everyone followed her with cameras, if not quite to the extent to the episode of South Park where she's actively hunted by paps to help the harvest.
His attention is amplified by his fanbase, who regularly pollute Twitter with vapid meaningless nonsense. All pop music fanbases have segments that act like cult worship, but the sheer numbers means other fanbases.
Until last Sunday, Bieber was enjoying a fairly straight forward tour on these shores. His fans were going home from arenas up and down the land happy, reviews were reasonable and it was all going incident free as he prepared for his birthday. Then, as the news and Twitter have been at pains to discuss, it all imploded from there.
In case you don't know what happened next, he then got turned away from a posh London nightclub for trying to bring in his 14 year old friends, turned up somewhere between 45 minutes and 2 hours late to his first show at the O2 Arena, fainted on stage during the 3rd night, got accused of faking fainting on stage and then got caught swearing at paps outside his hotel while dressed like an idiot.
He was due to appear on Ant & Dec's Saturday Night Takeaway on Saturday but pulled out, choosing instead to mope round Harrod's about how he's never gonna return to our country. This has been predictably met with Twitter reaction, albeit more of the good riddance variety.
Sadly for them their hopes of a Bieber no-show have gone unheeded as it appears he will return to our country. He also denied rumours he skipped out on the TV appearance but at this rate it's all unknown how much of this is true and false, as it always is in matters like this.
Far from being content to have a nightmare jaunt on our shores he's continued apace in Europe, preferring to spend time in Amsterdam than actually preparing for two concerts in Lisbon, and then duly cancelling one due to 'unforseen circumstances' - those circumstancs presumably being no one bought any tickets.
It does feel like we've heard this song before, a bit like with Bieber's music. There are stroppy sides to pop stars and to teenagers, of which Bieber fits in both categories.
It's unverified if he was being a diva but it would make sense given that pop stars are known for sulking when their outrageous demands aren't met, and teenagers are also privy to doing that same thing.
Pop stars are always in that situation of being love-or-hate figures that seem to struggle with success. They may well have money to burn and the adoration of millions but it can be a solitary lifestyle, not least the shallow nature of people who want you for the celebrity rather than the real person.
Obviously we all think pop stardom is a pretty sweet life, then duly watch the whole artifice collapse. Michael Jackson, an idol to billions, was the case in point as he changed beyond all recognition from being a teen star into a drug-induced plastic shell. It's cliche that pop stars go from fresh-faced cherub to posturing drug-addicted arses that the gossip pages attempt to stalk to the grave. But of course, if you sell 35 million records, you're bound to get attention.
Being famous is a strange case and it can fuck with your head. Certainly, being loaded skews your viewpoint on the world - hence trying to bring underage kids into nightclubs. It also doesn't help when there's a horde of paparazzi photographers, agents, minders, helpers and fans all following your every move like a real life TV show, and making sure that the show continuously moves on the road.
Bieber's annoying fanbase are also not helpful by constantly demanding more from their idol. This in turns means he gives them more, and in turn means more is wanted, leading to stalking for more information.
It's a long from the mystique of when idols like Jagger and Bowie were secretly (and not-so-secretly) on the drug wagon. It also means all melodramatic instances are playing out in public, leading to public meltdowns like last week.
Of course it could all be an act to drive publicity. I've never met Justin Bieber and for all the posturing and terrible music he's probably a reasonable chap underneath, even if some of his antics are the kind of acts a dick might get up to.
But the fact is the Bieber industry is supermassive. He's worth £35million, he and his label employs many people to ensure he puts on a live show his fans can scream themselves into disorientation at and he's one of the biggest names in pop. He's basically the key cog, sort of like Coca-Cola are in the fizzy pop business.
Being the big name also attracts attention. It's why there were 1430586 articles on him in the wake of his late show at the O2 arena, all examining his mindest, interview his fans, asking questions of his company, speculating on why he's done so. Anyone apathetic to the whole situation or not keen on his dull musical stylings is obviously not going to be as arsed to discuss a topic that seems to range from being exhausted to having an avalance of press.
With that sort of pressure its probably a wonder he hasn't gone on a bender like this sooner. Where he goes from here, bar fighting paps in bars at 3am, is anyone's guess.
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