For anyone who has yet to view it, Craig Schwartz (John Cusack) and his animal obsessed wife Lotte (Cameron Diaz), both develop feelings for Craig’s new business partner, Maxine (Catherine Keener). Craig discovers a portal in his new workplace that allows people to travel into the brain of John Malkovich (further adding to the madness is the fact that the choice of Malkovich is never explained) and decides to share this secret with Maxine. Maxine, being a manipulative psycho, decides to charge the public $200 for entry into Malkovich’s brain and all the while she is dating Malkovich…whilst Lotte and later Craig too, are in Malkovich’s brain. It’s all a bit strange really.

As someone who finds Malkovich curious and overrated as a performer, I was probably going to be a bit negative about this anyway! Having said this, I’m glad I saw it but fail to see what all the well remembered fuss was about to be honest. Given Malkovich’s oeuvre, one can imagine why he was drawn to the film in one way….but it’s quite the headwreck. One to avoid if you dislike migraines. Oooh, I’m harsh but fair.

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]]> http://madameaddams.wordpress.com/2012/01/24/being-john-malkovich-how-they-got-away-with-this-one-ill-never-know/feed/ 0 Michelle 220px-Being_John_Malkovich_poster Creative Commons License http://madameaddams.wordpress.com/2012/01/03/dust-dirt-and-dickens-reinventing-great-expectations/ http://madameaddams.wordpress.com/2012/01/03/dust-dirt-and-dickens-reinventing-great-expectations/#comments Tue, 03 Jan 2012 17:02:43 +0000 Michelle Lacey http://madameaddams.wordpress.com/?p=873 ]]> If there’s one thing the BBC knows how to do well, it’s adaptations of literary classics onto the small screen; take 1995′s Pride and Prejudice for example, an unexpected worldwide success that launched Colin Firth’s career. Christmas 2011 saw the Beeb produce a dark reinvention of a Charles Dickens classic, Great Expectations. Not that the book isn’t dark enough mind you. I remember receiving it as a present for Christmas when I was a kid and the opening pages scared the bejaysis out of me! So much so that I shamefully admit, I’ve never read Great Expectations, or indeed any Dickens all the way through. I do know the story quite well having had to study the novel in college (see, it is possible to bluff your way through Dickens kids – but don’t listen to me!). There’s a reason why Great Expectations has stood the test of time and in my humble opinion, it’s because of Miss Havisham. There I’ve said it. I can feel the eyes of Dickens afficionados everywhere boring into me as I type, but I think it’s true and the Beeb has pretty much backed me up here.  *looks smug*

The cast is excellent, but Gillian Anderson stands out a mile as Miss Havisham the eerie, decaying eternal bride. An orphan, like Pip, she adopts a daughter, Estella and transforms the child into a cold-hearted young woman. Due to her own unfortunate jilting on her wedding day, Miss Havisham seeks to turn Estella into an implement that she can use to destroy the lives of men such as Pip.  Surrounding herself in memories of her ill-fated wedding day, Havisham is a living fragment of an unfulfilled life, yet Anderson manages to make her a pitiable and tragic character despite her all-consuming bitterness. She mystifies, intrigues and intimidates Pip in equal measure. By allowing him to believe that she is his benefactress, and thus the catalyst for his transformation into a gentleman, Havisham devastates Pip by seemingly prepping him to marry her beloved “prize”, Estella but then, seemingly snatching her away. Anderson plays the role with a wonderful sense of macabre and loneliness infused within the character.

Douglas Booth, David Suchet and Ray Winstone turn in excellent performances as Pip, Abel Magwitch and Jaggers respectively. Admittedly, I fail to see what all the fuss about Booth is, although he is very believable as Pip and fails to be annoying as previous actors have been in the portrayal…Gerry Sundquist, I am looking at you.

Overall, Dickens’ parable of social ambition is expertly played by all involved and the story largely remains intact (they’ve omitted certain tiny details, such as the mice crawling through Miss Havisham’s rotting wedding cake. Fun!). I would recommend the Beeb’s adaptation wholeheartedly and will be obtaining the boxset upon its inevitable release. (Oh please let there be a special edition, please, please!)

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I moved on to Philosophy in the Boudoir, the tale of young, virginal Eugénie who is invited to the house of Madame de Saint-Ange for a lesson in libertinism at the hands of two older men, one of them an atheist and homosexual. The ‘action’ (yes, that is a snigger you detect from me, reader) takes place in a bedroom in Madame de Saint-Ange’s house over the course of two days. Although it was initially considered as nothing more than pornographic, Philosophy in the Boudoir has come to be viewed as more of a dramatic socio-political commentary whereby the characters argue that libertinism is the way forward as it reinforces the political revolution of the time in France (de Sade wrote this in 1795, amidst the cacophony of the French Revolution). Should people fail to adopt to the ways and philosophy of the libertine, France will reinstate the monarchy and be reduced to its previous stagnant state. The thing about de Sade’s writing is, it isn’t just sex and violence against women, it’s bursting with metaphors about identity, freedom of speech, freedom of thought and  individuality (and don’t get me wrong, he writes about sex really well and yes, I’m probably one of the few women in the world who would say that out loud, but I like the cut of his jib!). Of course, as with pretty much all of the Marquis’ writing, he does focus on the idea that the sole goal of human existence is pleasure and feels that morality, compassion and religion are ridiculous ideas that obstruct human pursuit of pleasure. As in most of his work, sodomy is the preferred activity for all concerned, all the characters prove to be bisexual and the female being ‘educated’ is somewhat of a fast learner for someone who’s having her virginity taken by several people all at once in some cases. Unlike most of his work, Philosophy in the Boudoir features no murder but does include torture and plenty of sex. Plenty. Believe me.

My favourite piece of de Sade’s work is Justine or The Misfortunes of Virtue, mainly because I think it’s very well written, the story is entertaining and the characters seem to have been thought out much more clearly than those in his other works. The story concerns a young woman who finds herself caught in situations involving perverse individuals, who subject her to their whims and become her masters. In one way, Justine is quite pitiable as de Sade writes her character as though none of her misfortunes are her fault. On the other hand, her tormentors continually warn her that her worship of virtue will only afford her more suffering at their hands, thus she proves to be an interesting if somewhat thick character, to put it mildly. From the outset, Justine is identified as a lone figure, born with a “melancholy turn of mind” (Sade, 5). In spirit, she is already doomed to be unhappy regardless of any good fortune that comes her way. Unlike her sister Juliette, Justine will never learn to value survival over providence and this proves to be her biggest misfortune. It makes for a bloody good read though!

Sade proved controversial in his own time for writing about violent sexual escapades that usually ended in murder or at the very least, psychological trauma for the female characters, always the victims and never the masters/mistresses of their own sexuality. In reality, Sade demonstrated that there were few ways for a woman to earn a living in eighteenth century France, other than through prostitution or perverse forms of servitude. Along the way, he indulged in provocative ideas of role play, sexual mastery and dominance, all notions that probably would have made him quite popular nowadays in the age of internet porn and tasteless avenues for a quick jerk off. The difference between this age of lads mags and de Sade is, he knew how to wield a pen (and probably a few other things if rumours are to be believed) and he did write beautifully about horrible events and vile deaths. He was ahead of his time, in short. I still love his work, not that it’s a pragmatic approach to life or that his views on women are esteemed, they’re not and shouldn’t be. I just love the words, I love the way the words work. It says something when someone can convey an upsetting vision in a beautiful way and in the process, makes life seem just a little less scary.

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The common practice in Hollywood cinema of indulging the male viewer’s gaze towards a female ‘object’, is challenged through a clever manipulation of traditional stereotypes in Stanley Kubrick’s Spartacus (1960).  Unlike the familiar depiction of semi-naked women usually engaged in a type of performance that renders them desirable to the male spectator, (as well as unduly passive characters) in Spartacus the men are subjected to a similar idea of display and spectacle. In order to entertain Hollywood’s ideology that in no way could “true masculinity…express itself undemocratically”, the male characters subjection to torture and sado-masochistic rituals serves as a form of eroticisation rather than sole punishment (Hark, 152).

 In comparison to the familiar portrayal of female characters, male protagonists are displayed in scenes of violence and torture where their bodies are “eroticised through stripping or binding” (Hark, 152). This practice of reversing the traditional male gaze is interesting as Ina Rae Hark observes; how does one allow for the male characters who lack the construction of masculinity in its entirety, to acquire the station of a “natural male position in patriarchy?” (Hark, 152). Such characters in Spartacus who lack the full construction of what is considered by Hollywood to be ‘normal’ masculinity include, Spartacus himself, Draba and Antoninus. The character of Crassus is interesting in this context. As shall be discussed later, he is in direct contrast to Spartacus in many ways, particularly in his delight at watching the gladiators being humiliated and displayed almost entirely for his pleasure, a similar idea to that of the male gaze directed towards the female ‘object’. Thus, the aim of this essay is to critically examine how the male body is spectacularised and displayed in Spartacus. To begin with it is interesting to examine in detail the specific characters that are spectacularised in Spartacus. Also, to look at why in particular this spectacularisation is significant in comparison to the traditional treatment of the female protagonist in the Hollywood system.

In Kubrick’s Spartacus, the sequences where the gladiators are trained to fight, clearly demonstrates the notion of “the enslaved male” as well as creating a spectacle for the displaying of the male body (Hark, 153). Spartacus, Draba and Antoninus are main examples of such spectacularisation. At the beginning of the film, Spartacus is seen chained to a rock awaiting starvation as punishment for assisting a fellow slave. Batiatus’ interest in Spartacus in these early scenes is indicative of the notion of the enslaved male “and the systematic suppression of any move on his part to achieve subjectivity through mastery of the gaze” (Hark, 153). Spartacus is unable to move and is wise enough to remain silent when he is referred to by Batiatus as though he wasn’t present at the scene. It could be argued that this creates a sense of submission on Spartacus’ part, as he appears to resist any temptation to retort. On the other hand, the display of Spartacus’ body in this manner coupled with the humiliation of his punishment could be seen to evoke a sense of heroism surrounding the character. It is possibly due to Spartacus’ dignified silence throughout the film that his character has earned such respect from both his army of gladiators and viewers alike. Examples of this can be seen when Crassus demands that Spartacus show himself when the army is captured later on in the film. All the men stand up and declare

Draba and Spartacus

themselves to be Spartacus so that their leader won’t die for them, they will all die together. In terms of spectacularisation of the male body, Spartacus will not be displayed publicly alone when he is crucified; all his men will share in his degradation.

When Helena chooses Draba to face Spartacus in a fight, it is after a lengthy period of gazing at all the gladiators behind the bars that surround their habitat. It is also because Helena wishes for the “most beautiful” gladiator to fight and so chooses “the big, black one”. This is redolent of scenes in other historical epics, such as the banquet scene in Cleopatra (Mankiewicz, 1963). The difference between the latter and the above scene in Spartacus is that Mankiewicz’s Cleopatra notably depicts female dancers scantily dressed and gyrating around Marc Antony. In Spartacus, the chosen gladiators must fight to the death to entertain the nobles. This is an intriguing opposition to the Hollywood trend of depicting women in such a manner. Instead of dancing, the men are required to fight wearing just enough “for modesty” as Helena says. Thus, it could be suggested that this is a hyper-masculine narrative in its “rightful exercise of masculine power” (Hark, 152). As it is a narrative, which must demonstrate brute force and strength as well as a revealing display of the flesh, thus the biblical-Roman setting of the film enhances the notion of the male body as spectacle.

Crassus and Antoninus

The spectacularisation of the body of Antoninus is importantly entwined with the enigmatic presentation of Crassus’ sexuality, which shall be discussed later. Although Antoninus enters the film some time after Spartacus and Draba have been displayed as spectacle, it could be argued that the representation of Antoninus is a slightly more harrowing spectacle. The scene in which Crassus asks Antoninus, which he prefers – oysters, or snails – reflects clear homosexual undertones through a sense that Crassus takes pleasure in inviting a barely clad Antoninus into his bath. Antoninus’ rejection of the life that Crassus intends to offer him as his personal slave presents the viewer with a scenario that is set to be fatal. In joining Spartacus’ army of gladiators, Antoninus not only disregards the notion of spectacle that would be forced upon him had he stayed with Crassus, he also actively opposes the narrative construction ofRomeas a “potently masculine” entity (Hark, 166). Thus, Antoninus effectively appears to turn his back on the hyper-masculine and the spectacle of the male body that encompasses any collaboration with Rome.

When Antoninus joins Spartacus his reputation as a “singer of songs” and a teacher of the classics, coupled with his pretty, feminised appearance evoke disapproval from Spartacus when Antoninus asks to join the army as a gladiator. The notion of spectacle is again foregrounded when Antoninus entertains the army with tricks and in the process gives Spartacus an egg, which splatters yolk on the army leader instead of releasing a bird as was depicted when the other gladiators were given eggs. Here, Spartacus’ disregard for the possibility of Antoninus becoming a soldier in his army is recuperated by spectacle.

Richard Dyer outlines how male sexuality is narrowly represented through visual media by arguing that “visual symbolism not only reduces male sexuality to the penis…it also tends to separate men from their sexuality” (Dyer, 1993, 91). The character of Spartacus would appear to show signs of detachment from his sexuality, particularly as he cannot bring himself to sleep with Varinia when she is ordered to his cell. In scenes such as this Spartacus is covered up

Varinia is sent to Spartacus' cell

considerably, perhaps out of modesty, as he seems shy and uncertain of himself around Varinia initially. It becomes clear that Batiatus and Marcellus take great pleasure in assuming a form of power over Spartacus when they watch him with Varinia from behind the bars above his cell. This voyeuristic approach to the spectacle that is Spartacus’ supposed inability to consummate a relationship with a woman, is even more intriguing due to a mainstream disconnection with the ideology that a man may not be solely interested in a woman for her body. This could be suggested, as it would appear that Spartacus feels an instant connection and affection for Varinia as he maintains a gaze toward her that does not seem to be threatening.

Marcellus’ taunt to Spartacus would also suggest an attempt on Marcellus’ part to emasculate Spartacus as a result of the lack of power that he considers to be contained within a ‘mere’ gaze, “ Since all you can do is look at girls, go ahead and look, slave”. Ina Rae Hark similarly notes that “gazes are marked by their impotence” in Spartacus. Marcellus’ earlier attempt to anger Spartacus into retaliation during the training sessions, when Spartacus gazes at Varinia, are also indicative of this point and serve to remind the audience of Spartacus’ intelligence and dignity despite his trainers childlike taunting. In the scene, Marcellus’ demonstration of where the men should attack an opponent is eroticised through Spartacus’ lack of clothing as well as the different coloured paint that Marcellus sweeps over Spartacus’ chest. Although the movement is not gentle, the male body is presented as a tool for a demonstration and is used as though the person occupying it has no mind.

Also, the fact that Varinia and other women are sent to the gladiators’ cells for the evening demonstrates the familiar notion of Hollywood mainstream productions; the female is still considered some form of an object, to be viewed by the male for his pleasure and gratification. The female equivalent of this notion is not clearly identifiable in much of the  Hollywood mainstream output. Chris Holmlund acknowledges Freud’s idea that “the body (our own and the Other’s) is the object and origin of our earliest fears and desires” (Holmlund, 2002, 17). In the opening scenes of Spartacus the audience learns that Spartacus was captured and used as a slave at the age of thirteen, Varinia was enslaved at the same age. As noted by Ina Rae Hark, one may draw the conclusion “that on this cusp of puberty both became available to Roman rape”, which would further suggest that the notion of spectacularisation is a continuing punishment for both Varinia and Spartacus (Hark, 162).

The slaves attack and destroy the prison

In leaving the system of slavery that he was brought into at the age of thirteen, Spartacus enters a new prison of spectacularisation and display. Through his leadership of the army of gladiators, Spartacus arguably takes on the role of a commander, one who must be accepted by all his men. Spartacus’ desire to enter into a system of some inherent symbolic order seems to be reminiscent of a small child who desires acceptance amongst his peers. Although he professes an undying love for Varinia, Spartacus claims to never have felt more alone even when he sleeps next to her. This it could be argued is a result of Spartacus’ imprisonment as a slave. Spartacus perhaps has this desire to belong to a system in order to give his life meaning and to gain power, an attribute that he has never known. The fact that his pride does not falter when faced with an enemy might suggest that as a slave Spartacus actually commands more power over himself than any Roman general. As Varinia points out to Crassus at the end of the film, his fear of Spartacus is rooted in the power that Spartacus obtained, which was demonstrated when his army answered to Crassus’ demand for Spartacus to show himself. In this way, the spectacle that was made of Spartacus by Marcellus earlier on is later turned around and Spartacus is replaced with Crassus.

Crassus’ demand for Antoninus and Spartacus to fight to the death is yet another form of spectacle, but the killing of Antoninus and the resulting crucifixion of Spartacus could be seen to reveal the cowardice in Crassus. If Crassus’ main objective was to eradicate Spartacus, he was in a position to slay Spartacus himself as he did with Draba. Perhaps the resulting crucifixion can be read as an affirmation of Varinia’s earlier realisation of Crassus’ fear and also as a final release for Spartacus from the cycle of spectacle that he has endured from the beginning of the film. In the moments after Antoninus’ killing, Crassus cannot exterminate his enemy; it would perhaps be unwise for him to attempt to do so anyway as he could not identify Spartacus despite having seen him before in an intimate space. This indicates not only his ignorance but also his unnatural obsession with spectacle as he orders all the gladiators to be crucified along the roadside, with Antoninus and Spartacus last.

Crassus as the dominant character for the last part of the film, may be seen as a combination of the phallus and the feminine at the same time. This may be read in such scenes as his attempted seduction of Antoninus in the bath and his

Crassus attempts to seduce Varinia

descriptions of Rome as “potently masculine, yet always female” (Hark, 166). In the earlier scene, Crassus speaks of his preference for oysters over snails and asks Antoninus for his opinion. The language used is soft and enquiring and the tone is similarly gentle. Yet Crassus’ inhabiting of a domineering male role, and one that enjoys making a spectacle of others, is always foregrounded as he continually points out that Antoninus is his personal slave. The mixture of sensuality and his obsessive occupation with Rome seems to encode Crassus as ambiguous in relation to gender distinction. This is exemplified when he refers to Rome as ‘her’, and implies a certain amount of ownership in his statement; “I shall not violate Rome at the moment of possessing her.”

Crassus’ delight as a spectator of spectacle is exemplified in the many occasions where he watches the humiliation of the various gladiators, particularly Spartacus. If this is the hyper-masculine side of his gender perhaps Crassus is a personification of Luce Irigaray’s idea that there should be “a separation of women from men” and in this process men

can establish “homosocial bonds” (Irigaray, 2004, 799). Crassus’ obsession with Rome and controlling ‘her’ without perverting her, has connotations to his fetishising of Antoninus and later, Varinia. When both characters reject his advances Crassus does not chase them as Hark notes (166). His infatuation seems to lie in possessing Rome, and in order to gain such power Crassus uses the bodies of others. Spartacus and Antoninus for example are kept until the last moment to be executed. When Crassus decides that they should fight to the death and the victor will be crucified, he provides the last site for the spectacularising of the male body within the film. Through the final spectacle that Crassus “compels Spartacus and Antoninus to enact before him” his attempt to thwart Varinia’s earlier warning that “nothing can help” is seemingly resolved (Hark, 167). Spartacus’ crucifixion arguably leaves Crassus’ “perverse and monstrous” masculinity intact, yet it could be argued that perhaps Crassus is now trapped within the spectacle that he set up for Spartacus and the gladiators (Hark, 168). Crassus must go on knowing that he has robbed families of their husbands and fathers, whilst Spartacus dies a slave, noble and finally free from further spectacle.

The male slaves occupy a weak, seated position whilst Varinia stands tall

Hollywood’s strict morals and codes for the golden age of film undoubtedly restricted the portrayals of certain characters and notions. Stanley Kubrick’s Spartacus is perhaps one of the exceptions, along with some of its predecessors such as Rebel Without a Cause (Ray, 1955) and Suddenly Last Summer (Mankiewicz, 1959). The spectacularising and eroticising of the male body in Spartacus provides an insight into homosexual practices that were evidently rampant at the time that the events actually took place. The film possibly suggests that the characters are all trapped despite the progression of the gladiators, even when they escape the training quarters, the audience is aware that they are never totally free. Spartacus’ pride in the identity that he has partly constructed for himself as a leader of men is never quite as admirable as his pride in acknowledging that he is a slave. Perhaps this is drawn from the fact that he had no choice in becoming a slave and has been forced to live with this identity. In the worst of situations, Spartacus appears to have reasoned with this identity and bears it as a symbol of mankind’s inability to have total control over life. When he is humiliated and put on display Spartacus’ silence and suffering create a sense of reality about the character, which enables empathy for his cause.

As the revolutionary ‘Other’, Spartacus does not appear to want subjection but as Ina Rae Hark argues, it is perhaps not possible for him to belong in any system without “taking from difference and producing subjection”  (Hark, 154, 159). The subversion of roles in Spartacus, normally reserved for the female is interestingly manipulated to serve both the Hollywood studio system and the ideology of masculinity that has been prevalent in literature for so long. Spartacus arguably would require traditional feminine traits such as passivity in order “to offer himself up as spectacle” (Hark, 153). He knows that to strike out against orders from his masters would be fatal and keeps quiet in the style of a silent martyr. In this way the qualities associated with traditional male characters are subverted. A similar manner is conducted with Varinia as she is not the established Hollywood norm. Throughout the film she reminds Spartacus of his strengths rather than allowing him to focus on his inability’s to read or master language, and at the end Varinia will not submit to Crassus desire. Instead she remains steadfast and strong despite the fact that she has only her son to live for at the end of the film. Thus, Varinia serves a purpose that complements the spectacularisation of the male body in Spartacus, she entered the film with the narrative purpose of providing Spartacus with love and affection and she leaves the narrative having fulfilled this purpose. As she leaves with Batiatus and her son in the cart, she is driven out of the site of the male spectacle of the body that Spartacus was so enslaved in. Ultimately, Varinia moves on to raise their son in the element that his father would only know through death; freedom from spectacle.

All Rights Reserved © Copyright 2011 Michelle Lacey (Michelle Ní Láitheása).

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It’s a fairly safe bet that you’re going to have a successful career when Vincent Price agrees to narrate your first short film. So it was for Tim Burton with his twisted, gothic tale of young Vincent Malloy, a 7 year old wishing to be Vincent Price (and who could blame him?!). Sadly, this short is overlooked when it comes to studying Burton’s oeuvre, mainly because it was only to be found on special edition discs of Burton’s Nightmare Before Christmas up until a few years ago. Now, widely available on YouTube the short has enjoyed a revival and small cult following amongst Price and Burton fans.

Focusing on the macabre humour that would become one of Burton’s trademarks, the character of Vincent appears for all intents and purposes, to be an incarnation of a younger Burton. From his enforced isolation inside his own home to his love of Edgar Allen Poe and The House of Wax, the short packs every allusion to Burton’s childhood in Californian suburbia that it can in a six minute and twenty-five second run. Entertaining and witty, this is a great example of Burton’s early attempts at stop-motion animation. It’s also a great accompaniment to Nightmare Before Christmas as the growth in Burton’s talent is obvious. Watch it one and all and let’s hope Burton reverts to what he’s good at!

All Rights Reserved © Copyright 2011 Michelle Lacey (Michelle Ní Láitheása).

Director Tomas Alfredson, responsible for 2008′s Låt den rätte komma in (Let The Right One In) has done a wonderful job of ensuring a 70′s feel and ambience to the film. Everything down to sweet packets and street bollards has the authenticity of 1970′s Britain and classic London smog. My companion and I were in agreement that this is a film where almost everything is left unspoken and the viewer must work things out for themselves, mainly through the visuals. This is perhaps quite suited to Le Carre’s writing style and themes of espionage and it certainly works for this film in a way that many other spy films could learn from – producers of Brosnan’s James Bond, I am talking to you.

The film works and the acting provides much of its success. With Oldman, Firth and Mark Strong offering solid performances in particular, Tinker Tailor is well worth checking out if only for the acting. The 1970′s boardroom style meeting area for British Intelligence adds a touch of laconic, Thatcher-ite gloom alongside excellent shots of a bleak and dreary looking London. Overall, Alfredson is an impressive director and Le Carre’s contribution can be felt quite clearly. Definitely worth seeing on the big screen.

All Rights Reserved © Copyright 2011 Michelle Lacey (Michelle Ní Láitheása).

Set in the late 1980′s booming Wall Street culture, the reader meets Patrick Bateman; narrator, successful investment banker, murderous psychopath. Coming from an otherworldly privileged background, Bateman is by no means a relatable character from the moment we meet him. Although his wealth is relayed in painstaking detail, there is no evidence of  Bateman actually doing much work throughout the novel. Instead there are frequent trips to clubs where he partakes of hard drugs, sex with women he has just met and subsequently murders and lunch meetings with a group of male friends whom Bateman evidently despises or has no interest in. Then again, the character appears to have no interest in anything, as he puts it “There is an idea of Patrick Bateman…an abstraction…I simply am not there.” The story follows him as he embarks on rampages of violent sexual murders and seemingly manages to evade capture or even arouse suspicion.

One part of American Psycho that is quite clever theoretically, is that the reader becomes less and less sure if what they’re reading is actually happening or if it’s all a figment of Bateman’s deluded imagination. After all, how many people would get away with constantly bringing their blood soaked shirts to the same launderette without getting questioned? Of course, the idea works in theory but there are many theories that don’t work when put into practice and for me, ultimately, this was one of them. The most exhausting part of the novel was the persistent listing of designer names and labels worn by Bateman and described by him when he comes into contact with pretty much anyone. Ellis tries to make a valid point about yuppie culture here and while the inference is clearly a comment on the vacuous state of these peoples lives, the descriptions can go on for a page to two pages at a time. Quite frankly, I couldn’t care less if Evelyn is wearing Manolo Blahniks today or Jimmy Choos. But Bateman does. Or does he? It’s hard to tell. Despite disliking the overall tone of the novel, I’m glad I read it, if only to see what all the fuss was about. Admittedly there are parts that are not for the faint-hearted but it all comes off as trying too hard to impress with sensationalism and brutality. Worth checking out, but not one I’d read a second time.

All Rights Reserved © Copyright 2011 Michelle Lacey (Michelle Ní Láitheása).

Such a sentiment has never been more true than when expressed in Woody Allen’s latest offering. The quality of his more recent films has notably declined from his output of the 70′s, but Allen has returned with a wonderful, funny story and solid characters. Owen Wilson is Gil, a Hollywood screenwriter seeking a new career as a literary writer. Tagging along to Paris with his snobby fiancee and her parents, he discovers a decadent and romantic world he has always wanted to be a part of – literally.

Although transporting characters to a previous time is a difficult and often perilous move, the film proves that nearly any idea can materialise nicely in the hands of a talented and knowledgeable director. To carry off the trick plot line with ease, strong character actors are a must and Allen has managed to secure the cream of the miniscule, modern Hollywood crop.

Wilson is well cast and convincing as the bumbling, naive Gil and works well against his haughty fiancee Inez, played by Rachel McAdams. Other star turns include Kathy Bates as Gertrude Stein and Marion Cotillard as Adriana, a beautiful ingenue who captures Gil’s heart. Corey Stoll is remarkable as the deadpan, yet brilliant Hemingway, and Carla Bruni also pops up in an amusing cameo. Other supporting characters to watch out for are Alison Pill and Tom Hiddleston as Zelda and F. Scott Fitzgerald and a surprising performance from Adrien Brody as Salvador Dali.

Cinematography is key in this film and is one truly spectacular element. The scenes are lit in a semi-gloom that is redolent of 1920′s Parisian postcards and artwork. The makeup and wardrobe styling adds a strong feeling of thought and care given to recreation of an extraordinary time and era. Anyone who can succeed in making Paris appear more beautiful than it is in reality has achieved something quite special. Overall, Woody has made a film that it’s difficult to fault and that is quite simply the only criticism I have of it!

All Rights Reserved © Copyright 2011 Michelle Lacey (Michelle Ní Láitheása).

How To Be A Woman gives laugh out loud moments (as I did whilst reading it on the tube) and some more sobering thoughts on growing up, sibling rivalry, bullying, falling in love and a slightly comical, if excruciating, account of childbirth. Through it all, Moran’s philosophy remains that she is a feminist without having to be the next Germaine Greer and if she can do it, so can every other woman.

Essentially, How To Be A Woman is a great introductory text to feminism and leaves the reader open-minded to their own ideas about what being a woman is for them. My favourite section, perhaps controversial, was the chapter about abortion, where Moran details not only her own experience of abortion, but also the stigma that is still attached to it. I think in the present age, it is high time a woman stepped forward and declared that ‘actually on this occasion, this is the right decision for me’. In no way is this advocating constant use of abortion, but it is refreshing to read a perspective such as Moran’s. Well worth the read.

With its murky mists of foreign extraction and faintly absent lights

It bothers me, this mountain, though I do not fathom why.

On one of its navy, nonchalant sides

There lies a pasture of the finest emerald

A jewel that once shone like no other,

Which men fought arduously to discover and tame.

It is no more that place of serenity.

Instead it is matriculating meticulously

Into the land that lies on the other ruby red facet

Of that garrulous mountain.

Our Hadrians Wall is not doing its job of protector

And is slowly falling, falling slowly.

Gazing at that idle mountain beneath me

Its luminous depths murmur

Of the many fools who have tried to pass

Over its halting height.

There is a mountain there, which I cannot climb

With its shuddering shoulders

And quaking belly.

It will swallow me, all of me, whole.

All Rights Reserved © Copyright 2011 Michelle Lacey (Michelle Ní Láitheása).