Are you familiar with this film? This is the one with the poster featuring a smouldering Samuel L. Jackson holding a chain restraining a somewhat underdressed yet coquettish Christina Ricci. One look at that had me thinking that this could be my kind of film. Subsequently I read things about it, and was struck by how much of the discourse* around the film dealt with how it did not really deliver on the schlock value of the poster and was basically all a bit tame and conventional at the end of the day. Now, there definitely were aspects of the film that bear relation to the kind of films your mother likes, but let's get some things out of the way first. The film does indeed feature Christina Ricci chained to a radiator in her underwear for much its duration, with the Samuel L. Jackson character restraining her like this to "cure" her of her nymphomania; basically if that's the kind of thing these critics consider to be a bit tame I really dread to think what the extreme films they prefer are like.
Black Snake Moan is an odd film, though as it does pull in two directions. Some of it goes down a well-trodden Southern Gothic route (albeit with a new trailer trash twist), and the whole radiator-chain-nymphomania thing feeds into this, with Ricci's non-stop shag lust being more like demonic possession than what you get with a woman in control of her own sexuality. The other strand of the film, though, is to do with heart-warming Southern values of folks being all friendly and looking after each other and stuff like that – the kind of thing you might have seen in minor Robert Altman film
Cookie's Fortune. I think the previously mentioned critics found this whole aspect of the film deeply annoying and resented its very presence in a film that could otherwise have featured much more chain-radiator-nymphomania action. I think they also found the whole "curing woman of nymphomania" aspect of the film deeply offensive and an example of the patriarchal world we live in (these critics implicitly would have preferred if Ricci's character was chained to the radiator because Jackson's was keeping her as a sex slave).
I really liked the film – I thought the dark and the light aspects worked well together, providing a nice contrast and so on. I liked the whole sense of it being about damaged people attempting to overcome their limitations and become stronger and more functional people. The dénouement (oh no, spoilers) suggested that while Rae (Ricci's character) and her man (played by a creditable Justin Timberlake) retain their separate psychological scars, they can help each other to overcome them. That is a nice message to hear if you are feeling a bit fragile yourself.
The music in the film is most enjoyable, being mainly Blues based, with Jackson's character turning out to be one of those Blues players. There are two very memorable musical scenes in the film, one where he plays a song called 'Black Snake Moan' during a thunderstorm while trying to keep Rae's demons at bay, and then latter a performance of 'Stagger Lee' in a club.
Man, the South is great, I wish I lived there.
*By "discourse", I mean something I read in
Sight & Sound**Oh noes I R laugh at po' people.
Sadly this does not see the Doctor squaring up against an excrement obsessed Hessian rocker. It does however feature companion Peri (played by lovely Nicola Bryant) marrying a character played by BRIAN BLESSED.
My old friend and quaffing partner Mad King Ken is currently travelling across Eurasia. He reports that Polish film posters of the Communist era are truly fascinating. Check out an online gallery and see what you think. One thing I found interesting about them is how often they simply ignore the original Western posters of films and shun using photographic likenesses of film actors in favour of design-heavy original artworks.
This book is about the practitioners of Thuggee, the practice of strangling unwary travellers and stealing all their possessions, with Thugs often going to elaborate lengths to hide the bodies of the victims. These unsavoury characters worked the roads of India until they were wiped out by the British East India Company. I have been fascinated by the Thugs since I read a brief article on them in The Unspeakable Oath, a journal dedicated to researches into the outré. That whetted my appetite for more, but I lamented the lack of a good book on the subject. Thankfully Mike Dash, author of Batavia's Graveyard has leapt into the breach and served up this book.
The great thing about the Thugs is that the main things everyone knows about them are not true. They were not a religious cult, murdering to appease Kali, goddess of death; rather they were economic murderers, killing to support their families. And they were not a closed hierarchical order either, but more a loose mass of killers who shared methods among their fellows, coming together to kill and then splitting up again into their own sub-groups. For all that, they are still terrifying, people capable of befriending travellers, passing time on the road with them, and then killing them in the most intimate manner.
They met their match when the British East India Company became aware of their existence. The book describes how Thuggee was systematically wiped out by an expanding British presence unwilling to tolerate maniacs making the roads unsafe. The chapters on the anti-thug campaign, led by William Sleeman, are fascinating but also disappointing – disappointing not in the writing style but in the subject matter. Sleeman crushes the Thugs by the systematic application of modern policing methods and informers against which the traditional killers can do nothing. They do not stage any kind of counter-attack against Sleeman, or make any concerted attempt to avert their doom. This is hardly surprising, given that the Thugs were not actually a hierarchical devil cult with a supreme leader directing them, but it would make history far more exciting if they were.
Sam the Seagull has taken to raiding Aberdeen news agents for packets of cheese Doritos. Sam is not in gainful employment and, as a non-human, is ineligible for social welfare payments, so he is not in a position to pay for his crisps. He does however share them with his avian fellows.
Oscar the Cat lives in a nursing home in Providence, Rhode Island. According to a study reported by the BBC, Oscar has a most unusual ability. The cat can apparently sense when patients are about to die, invariably curling up beside those whose death is near. The nursing home's staff now alert the family of anyone beside whom Oscar curls up - they are marked for death.
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Are you familiar with this film? This is the one with the poster featuring a smouldering Samuel L. Jackson holding a chain restraining a somewhat underdressed yet coquettish Christina Ricci. One look at that had me thinking that this could be my kind of film. Subsequently I read things about it, and was struck by how much of the discourse* around the film dealt with how it did not really deliver on the schlock value of the poster and was basically all a bit tame and conventional at the end of the day. Now, there definitely were aspects of the film that bear relation to the kind of films your mother likes, but let's get some things out of the way first. The film does indeed feature Christina Ricci chained to a radiator in her underwear for much its duration, with the Samuel L. Jackson character restraining her like this to "cure" her of her nymphomania; basically if that's the kind of thing these critics consider to be a bit tame I really dread to think what the extreme films they prefer are like.
It's easy to scove, but we were once all that soldier. Further discussion here: so not gonna happen
There are apparently only 400 Sumatran Tigers left in the world. They suffer from habitat loss and the depredations of poachers. They are however not going quietly. One tiger was recently caught in a trap, but managed to escape by gnawing his own paw off. He has been seen several times since, and is apparently in good condition.
are full of motion triggered cameras, used to capture images of poachers. One tiger has become so annoyed by the flash on these cameras that he destroys them whenever they take his picture.
"Count Gottfried von Bismarck, who was found dead on Monday aged 44, was a louche German aristocrat with a multi-faceted history as a pleasure-seeking heroin addict, hell-raising alcoholic, flamboyant waster and a reckless and extravagant host of homosexual orgies."
The Lizard King was also the first additon to Santorum.jpg.
I will talk about this at more length in the future, but for the moment let me just say that if you like noir-influenced crime writing, you would be well advised to check out the comic "Criminal", written by Ed Brubaker and drawn by Sean Phillips. I started reading it with the issue before last; the current story is about some hard-nut trying to track down those responsible for the death of his brother.
