anarchic-miscellany

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I've not followed "Doctor Who" in a while, so the news of the cannibalised ouroboros of casting Billie Piper for desperate, pathetic nostalgia (that series is not even 20 years old...) is some "Star Wars" shit which makes me annoyed enough to make this list. 10 women, off just the top of my head, who'd fucking smash it: 1. Gemma Chan 2. Robyn Addison 3. Indira Varma 4. Celia Imrie 5. Naomie Ackie 6. Polyanna Mackintosh 7. MyAnna Buring 8. Shirley Henderson 9. Clare Grogan 10. Andi Osho

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"Oooh, Good AIDS and bad AIDS" - Brass Eye: Still relevant

damn people rly hate type 2 diabetics don't they

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"Durarara!" is exactly the sort of bonkers I expect from the maker of "Baccano!" - Shibuya becoming the battleground for a gangster chat room and the maniacs who inhabit it. Violence Incarnate dressed as a barman who roundhouse-kicks vending machines, the Headless Catgirl Courier and the asshole misanthropic information broker are great, but for me so far the highlights are the weirdo murder gangsters who drive a van and look out for their kidnapped Italian immigrant friend because he got one of them (who wants to fuck his van) tickets to an idol concert; also two of them are torture loving manga fanatics. I fucking love anime.

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I like the movie for a lot of reasons (it caps off the series nicely, it's pleasant, it's funny, it understands what it's trying to do, and even my mum loves it), but a highlight this time around in "Bill and Ted Face the Music" is the performances of Samara Weaving and Jack Haven, who are excellent in this for different reasons:

Weaving does a fantastic impression of Alex Winter's Bill, and gets the inflections and tones spot on

Haven captures Keanu Reeves' Ted with sheer physicality, getting a giggle out of me with just a wobble of the body or a bemused look Both absolutely nail it in completely different ways, and are both excellent performances to study

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Unironically and free of hyperbole, Dave Bautista is my favourite kind of actor, because he's unpredictable. He's in that sweet, sweet spot where he's jussssssssst famous enough to be able to stretch his chops on well written projects with a need for star power to get made ("The Last Showgirl", "Bushwick", etc. Quick side note: watch both of those, the first for his performance which is my favourite this year, and the latter because it's fucking fantastic), cutting his teeth on trashy dogshit and the usual fare of "actor turned wrestler" ("Wrong Side of Town", "The Scorpion King 3", the fucking TERRIBLE "Escape Plan" sequels, which are very "dad movie") to keep the lights on; to weirder middle budget stuff which could go either way ("Hotel Artemis", which rules by the way, or "Stuber", a throwback to 15 rated bloody action comedies of the 80s like "Midnight Run" or "48 Hours", and which honestly is just the right side of hit-or-miss). He then gets to do the prestige science fiction like "Dune" and "Blade Runner 2049" (his scene still sticks in my memory all these years later) and show what he's like as an actor: please refer to the fucking excellent murder mystery "The Glass Onion". Yet he's still able to be "the type" he embodies, and was a great goon in "Riddick" and "Spectre" (Dave Bautista got to be a bond henchman! You go buddy, that's sick as fuck!), his performance in "Man with the Iron Fists" actually sold me on his casting in his biggest known role, the iconic Drax in "Guardians of the Galaxy", consistently and rightfully stealing the show. He even does that classic "lovabe goofball action hero" thing of being in delightfully lame kids movies like "My Spy" (which had a sequel, did you know it had a sequel? Bloody hell) and do what every action movie star needs to do: A "Die Hard" knock off in the form of the actually pretty fun "Final Score" (if you're wondering: it's "Die Hard" in a football stadium. Good choice, movie, and great choice Bautista!). And I get to say "Studio Ghibli Alumnus Dave Bautista" which is so delightfully, casually insane that I have even more respect for him than I do already, if that were possible. I guess this is a Dave Bautista appreciation post. You fucking rule man.

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@theweddingknellsproject

Replace "Walker" with Pierre. Replace "Yelena" with Kim Replace "Ava" with Isolde

[medical records]

Patient name: John Walker

Injury: Concussion

Cause of injury: Got hit in the head with socket wrench

Patient name: Yelena Belova

Injury: Pulled muscle

Cause of injury: Throwing something heavy (believed to be a socket wrench)

Patient name: Ava Starr

Injury: None, but complains of stomach pain

Cause of injury: Laughing too hard

[anarchic-miscellany]

I finally watched the first 2 "Patlabor" movies recently, and they were bloody excellent: they were unafraid to be complex and Byzantine, and all about the investigative and bureaucratic elements of political conspiracy and mech-show. I enjoyed them immensely. Yet the scene which stuck with me is from the 1st movie when a pair of detectives are sent to look into a man, and for about 4 minutes it is a dialogue free montage of them poking around old shacks, wandering across beautiful skylines and investigating. It's essentially an excuse to have the makers show off their gorgeous watercolour scenery, and I'm all in favour of it.

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Got told I looked like "Matt Mercer" by the lady in HMV today when buying my stuff. Had to look up who that was. I'll take it.

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I can't remember where I found the interview, maybe I made it up, but I like to believe it anyway:

Andy Breckman found creating "Monk" partly nightmarish because of just how many actors they auditioned for the main part of a grieving widowed obsessive-compulsive detective. They kept getting actors who were playing it with tics, quirks, and otherwise treating it as a bad improv workshop.

Tony Shalhoub was the only one to ask how the character's wife died and who she was.

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My mum took me to see Sparks (my second time) and as mind-blowing as they still are, they still find ways to amaze me: they made "Running Up a Tab at the Hotel For a Fab" frantic and terrifying, they performed the fun and wry "Academy Award Performance" almost as an ode and lament, they (rightly) performed the spellbinding "Number 1 Song in Heaven" as a victory lap, and made "Do Things My Own Way" fucking haunting. Still finding ways to recontextualise and reinterpret their own songs with only cadence and understanding I love them so much.

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I finally listened to an Arcade Fire song, namely "Pink Elephant" and it sounds like what people who hate indie music think indie music sounds like, and what I'd make if I were parodying "American Football".

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The film's pretty good, give it a whirl (especially if you like gnarlier, detail focused, old-school murder movies) and "Dangerous Animals" has beaten "The Magnificent Seven" for my favourite character introduction in recent memory:

Zephyr (Hassie Harrison) is buying a slushie and a bag of breadrolls from a corner shop in Australia. She takes them outside, and we see her tip the slushie cup over and reveal the tub of ice cream she has stashed in there to keep cool and not pay for. It's really simple, and sums up her cunning and mischievousness (as well as tells us she's skint but also willing to think on the fly to make the most of her trip out here) in less than a minute. No clunky dialogue or awkwardness: great job there movie!

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It's very much out of print, so if you get a chance: watch "The Cockpit". Tragic, heartbreaking, and brief, a meditation on the futility of war and the acceptance of death. And it's only 90 minutes!

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@the-goddamn-plant-monster

the sequel

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Didn't know what I expected from Marina's new one, but the final track having her yell "FINISH HIM!" is peak Marina, a return to "Family Jewels" era, and had me fucking cackling when I first heard it

The new album is excellent, by the way. A blend of all of the eras she's had, a myriad of beats and tempos, and great fun to boot. Closer to "Family Jewels" and "Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land" this time around

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"Let All That We Imagine Be the Light" is not as snarling as the absolutely brilliant, crash-through-the-gates triumph of "No Gods No Masters"; but it doesn't have to be and it is also in the running with that for "Most Garbage Title" in their discography.

They've called it their most optimistic album, but in true "Garbage" style the attitude is more "we're fucking old, man, we've embrace our impending deaths and encourage everybody to stop being a fucking bellend". It's fucking great. I love this. Also for a band in their 60s (and in the case of the bloody excellent Duke Erikson, fucking 70s) it's refreshing to see that they've not lost their fucking minds: they straight up just call for trans and black justice on one track.

"There's No Future in Optimism" is a belter of an opener but, par for the course, not the best track on the album. It took a few listens

"Hold" is one of the most intense, anxiety-ridden love songs I've ever heard and I love it. Pure Manson, Vig, Marker and Erikson. Excellent. God that production is immaculate and those guitars by Erikson and Marker fucking haunting. Love it.

"Chinese Fire Horse" has a riff so sick it should be quarantined, and matches that primal fury at patriarchal hypocrisy and ageism Manson's calling out. They're allowed to be angry and especially in a way which lets them just scream into a void because there is no wording to describe how fucking shit everything is. Speaking of voids...

"Have We Met (The Void)" is spectacular, spellbinding, nightmarish, self-reflective and what Garbage are all about: doubt, uncertainty, misery, confusion, and that darkest inner part of your soul becoming a part of you. FUCK this track's good. Just layered with hook after hook and riff and catchy bit, that staircase keyboard making it ominous, and that sultry smokey purr of Manson just oozing throughout. FUCK I LOVE THIS ONE. Immaculate song structure.

"Sisyphus" is a return to the promised optimism, but again in a more electronica fused "we're old and dying, but fuck it if we can save one life and help one person better themselves, that's enough" kind of way. THAT is the kind of optimism I expect from Garbage. They got their self-loathing and midlife crisis out of themselves with "No Gods No Masters", so they're at the "acceptance" part of life, and I am happy for it.

"Radical" is a grindy, industrial style throbbing pulse of a track, much akin to their 2000s output. I like it. It continues the message of the last track in a more matter-of-fact way.

"Love to Give" is a steadily rising, nicer side to Garbage, and again closer to the optimism side they were claiming the album is about. It's dense and heavily produced, and would be a great B-side to "Bleed Like Me", slower in tempo and driving.

"Get Out of My Face AKA Bad Kitty" is a highlight of the album. Marker and Erikson just MASTER coming up with riffs and little bits as good as "My Favourite Game", stripped back and sparse and spine tingling. And Vig's drums rule here. Then it climbs and ratchets up from its already rattling tempo, and we get that staccato, rapid fire Manson delivery, and it all clicks together like a clock. I love it. Again, they just layer hook upon hook here, draped in misery but with a hint of hope beneath it... then Manson launches into "OR I'LL SCREAM" and it fucks. It fucks so hard.

Speaking of FUCKING HARD! "R U HAPPY NOW" is probably my favourite on the album along with "Have We Met (The Void)". Terrifying drums start it, leading into bellowing, gutteral rage and Manson's off-the-cuff, witheringly sarcastic lyrics. It does not give a FUCK about politeness when the world is THIS fucked, she just straight up calls out everybody for their bullshit (and it's on the nose, blunt, to the point and MUCH needed), and that chorus just fucks, it fucks so hard. Fuck I love it. Then it bounces, and rocks, and rolls, and bops, it's easily one of their best. It sounds like a vengeful Goth turbo rave overseen by a woman forever out of your league

We close on "The Day That I Met God" and it gives me chills: Shirley Manson talking about her near-death experience and how amazing Tramadol is, giving her the confidence to embrace nihilism and the future, it genuinely fucking haunts me.

I'll have to ponder if I like it more than "No Gods No Masters" (that title track alone blows most things out of the water) but it still pleases me to see that Garbage are not only making music, but have neither lost their minds nor their edge. They seem like amazing, cool, nice people (that latter grows rarer and rarer...) and they make music which is 100% them.

Fucking amazing album, well done Garbage