from In Praise Of Idleness "There are not only those who give orders, but those who give advice as to what orders should be given. Usually two opposite kinds of advice are given simultaneously by two organised bodies of men; this is called politics" - Bertrand Russell

1Q84 book review 1Q84 is an epic novel by Norwegian Wood author Haruki Murakami in three 'books', book one and book two published in one volume together to great acclaim in Japan and book three following a year after. They concern two central characters whose stories are told in dual narrative, alternating between the two, in a roughly coinciding time frame. We are first introduced to Aomame who is stuck in traffic on Tokyo's expressway; she is running late and decides to exit her taxi and make down the emergency ladder. It is this moment, she later reflects, that she passes into an alternate world - the year of 1Q84, the 'Q' standing for 'question mark', as apposed to '1984'. Although she notices immediately that things are not right when she has climbed down, she continues with her task: she has been commissioned to kill a woman beating husband in his hotel room. Meanwhile, Tengo, a struggling author, is contacted by his friend, a publisher and screener for a literary competition Komatsu. Komatsu proposes that one of the manuscripts that has been sent to him titled Air Chrysalis is rewritten by Tengo as, despite the narrative's imagination, the author clearly has no literary skill. Resentfully he accepts, knowing that this deception may lead to his undoing, and introduces himself to the seventeen-year-old author of the manuscript, Fuka-Eri. Both Aomame and Tengo are connected in ways the cannot realise and are destined to collide again, but before that many things may stand in their way. This dual narrative works well to tie the two together, but is somewhat undermined by Aomame's story being hugely more interesting than Tengo's - each chapter is considerably long, and by the time one has waded through Tengo's chapter to rejoin the more exciting Aomame, the pace is often lost and has to be kindled once more. I can imagine that if one were to read a few hundred pages at a time the effect of this constant shifting may cause a 'rubber band' effect - i.e. the persistent changes in tension make the rubber band snap. Also although 1Q84 is written in the third person there are large sections in free indirect thought which are italicized; why not write in the first? Another narrative problem I found was that the novel is far too long and needlessly so. For example, there are a lot of 'references' to other books, to music and to history which are often found in the form of large chunks of directly pasted text. The novel also has a good number of characters telling long-winded stories to one another which seem not to relate much to the central narrative. These stories are often similar to each other; presumably this decision was warranted in the author's mind by a 'creating of a sense of togetherness' as the central protagonists come together, but I found the effect to be nothing like the charming imagination of Les Miserablés but more like the monotony of a stuck record. The book's title is reportedly how the Japanese pronounce Orwell's novel Nineteen Eighty-Four from which 1Q84's author Murakami takes inspiration (however, his is a parallel universe novel and not a dystopia). 1Q84 has a running theme of Fuka-Eri's manuscript, Air Chrysalis, and the similarities it has with Fuka-Eri's past #life as her antecedents grow. But it faces a similar problem to Nineteen Eighty-Four near the end; i.e. it effectively prints the novella Air Chrysalis discussed within 1Q84 just as the manifesto is printed by Orwell (though here Murakami pens a paraphrase). For me in both novels this is unnecessary and kills pace; I should imagine that Murakami passed it by the editor claiming it an intertextual reference, but it does more to hinder the novel than aid it, not least due to Murakami's frequent references to how amazing Air Chrysalis is in the run up to its appearance. A couple more things I disliked: Some things are made almost offensively obvious by using repetition, bold type or italic type. There is an inconsistency in type and punctuation use. An over consistency of certain words or phrases; which, rather than hint at the duel narrative characters' similarities, layers important information on an adds yet more unnecessary words. Almost all of the characters possess some sort of unbelievable power or omniscient presence who each hint at their abilities about as subtly as being hit with a baseball bat that has 'power' written on it in alternate bold and italic type. Each chapter is titled with a line from within itself - a show of self-love and postmodernist reference which, rather than being witty or clever, is simply self-conscious and, again, unnecessary. There are frequent Americanised spellings - clearly this translation is aimed at the American market. Having said all of these scathing criticisms, I must say that the story itself is not terrible, merely deeply undermined by the style, and that there are a couple of properly theatrical twists. Despite the obvious attempt to make 1Q84 serious, it becomes, for me, far too inconsistent, irreverent and mostly erroneous to be taken seriously. But if one can read it passively and try not to let the characters' preternatural powers put one off, it's an enjoyable - but needlessly long - novel. Depending on a reader's patience, 1Q84 is a flawed yet not unenjoyable novel written with an evident love of culture and a blissfully untamed imagination. The numerous criticisms I have of it are, of course, subjective to my own view of literature; however, I would be wary of recommending this book as its style, ludicrously and sheer length are almost not worth the pay off. Taken from my blog: matthewhurstfilm.blogspot.co.uk

The Hunger Games film review Based on the novel by Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games opens in District 12 of a dystopian future state in which this year's contenders for the 'games' - in which a man and a woman from each of the Districts are 'reaped' (a lottery) as 'tributes' (contestants) - become Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence) and Peeta Mellark (Josh Hutcherson, the child actor in such films as Zathura and The Kids Are All Right). The two are taken to a more affluent part of the world where Katniss - torn from protecting her younger sister Primrose (Willow Shields) - and Peeta - who soon admits his love for Katniss on live TV - are made to train and to cultivate 'sponsors' before the 'games' by appearing in stunts on fire, on Caesar Flickerman's (Stanley Tucci) show and in front of Seneca Crane's (Wes Bentley) acquaintances. Inevitably, the 'games' begin, and strength, stamina and relationships are put to the test in the ultimate game of state-subsidised survival. Only one can win the pride of their District; only one will survive. Not only are they pitted against one another, but cantankerous Seneca Crane contrives obsticals for them, too, for seemingly no reason. Also, while we're on the particulars of the film, frequent references are made to a couple from the same District being "star-crossed lovers"; but they're not star-crossed, they're from the same bloody 'star'. It reminded me at once of the game in Battle Royale; the peculiar purple-clad mistress of District 12 (Effie Trinket, Elizabeth Banks) of the mother in Brazil (Ida Lowery, Katherine Helmond); and the depressive pallet of 1984 which is mixed with a Roman Empire meets Starfleet Academy aesthetic (in some scenes), disrupted by the scenes spent outside in the forest and cross cut with the blue and chrome rooms which science fiction set designers seem bound to employ by proxy nowadays. What all of these films and TV shows have in common is their dystopic themes; in The Hunger Games's case, perhaps a parallel is being attempted between the sacrifice that capitalism makes of individuality and (arguably) of good taste with the explicit violence and violation that the 'game' demands. Perhaps also is a parallel between 'civilisation' and barbarianism is being ironically spun; the suggestion that for all man's gilding, he cannot quite conceal the ordinary material of which he is irrevocably made (to paraphrase Louisa May Alcott). This interpretation would be exacerbated by the vast crowd's appreciation of primal fire, saying something about nature's penetrating resonation through all the high rises and glass-clad contraptions of modernity. Further, there is perhaps a play on the Myth of Sisyphus: exemplified by the #quote, "hope is the only thing stronger than fear" (spoken by President Snow, Donald Sutherland) which can be applied both to those within the game - which, as we have already expounded, may itself be a metaphor for capitalism or indeed #life itself - and society in general, perhaps The Hunger Games is making a comment on the perpetually unfulfilled human condition, the futility of a godless #life whose death severs all connection with this one and only realm, the uselessness of 'it all'. Unfortunately, however, I feel that those things were probably not intentional within the film, that they are contrivances of my bored and wandering mind, resentfully affixed to a seat for two hours seven. The film is far too long to be tense; this is exemplified in the countdown which does from around 45(!) rather than the standard 10 seconds. With the monotony of the voice which pronounces each number in reverse order and the cross cutting between contenders, the implicit threat is lost and subsequent explosion of violence has lost its relevance. If you want a quasi-Aztecan sacrificial thriller, watch Battle Royale, or read some Richard Bachman (particularly The Long Walk), or write your own for god sake - but don't watch The Hunger Games, for it is a poor attempt at a none-too complicated sub-genre of thriller and whose contribution to the aforementioned genre is negligible. BBFC 12A Taken from my blog: matthewhurstfilm.blogspot..co.uk

Hunky Dory film review During the summer of 1976 in a small Welsh town, ambitious drama teacher Viv (Minnie Driver) tries to unite her class against condescending sterner teachers, the personal problems of both her and her students, and even the elements. The play is a David Bowie-meets-The Tempest 'groovy' production complete with full student orchestra, glitter and even a role filled by the headmaster (Robert Pugh). While looking at school politics and bullying, Hunky Dory also delves into the personal lives of the students and teachers, and the climate in which they lived: sex, sexuality, jealousy, drugs, #depression, aging, death, racism and aspiration. Balancing well those two tricky elements of humour and solemn emotion, Hunky Dory is a patchwork of lives, loves and losses centred around the musical they all work towards and affected by the environment in which they struggle. Let the first thing said about this film be this: every so often, a really good film comes along which may not be a masterpiece, which may not be groundbreaking, but it's damn 'feel good'. Recent films in this ilk which spring to mind are such as Love & Other Drugs - which I adored and cried at - Submarine - heretically ignored by most of the awards ceremonies - The Art Of Getting By - enormously underrated - and Tamara Drewe - which made me cry, too. When a film is described as 'feel good', most cinephiles cringe; it usually means Hollywood's mass produced laughs with box office faces slapped onto innuendo-filled posters. But the modesty with which Hunk Dory and those other films listed conduct themselves, the originality with which their narratives are conceived (Hunky Dory was written by Laurence Coriat) and directed (Marc Evans), the heart from the actors, and, most importantly, the delivery of both jokes and lines of great emotional intensity - these things give a good name to 'feel good'. Having read a synopsis of the film, I expected it to play like a Welsh Glee with a bit of Shakespeare. Thankfully, the brash sentimentality of the former was excluded from Hunky Dory; and there were no more than about fifteen lines of Shakespeare, and then only spoken during rehearsal scenes and never used for much importance. There are a few very tense scenes and just a couple of obvious plot points. None of the songs were original, but a few notes on their imaginative arrangements are worth making. The sound mixing was brilliantly detailed: elements of the track were brought into the foreground when appropriate with just the right balance. The orchestration was whimsical, notably the accompaniment of the melody with tuned milk bottles. Further, the singers were all very good! (Most songs were sung by Aneurin Barnard, he of BBC Four's We'll Take Manhattan and whose falsetto control is impressive; Danielle Branch; and good newcomer Tomos Harries) And most lip synced as well as the instrumentalists did. Also, the play itself was very well done. I judge plays (when I'm lucky enough to see them) on how cold they make me feel (from goosebumps). I was positively chilly at Hunky Dory. In summary, I urge everyone to see this film. It's not outstanding, but I was upstanding for how up it made me feel. It's undoubtedly, objectively funny; it's got real emotion behind it; and every so often, these things are punctuated by well-done David Bowie, ELO, Nick Drake et al. songs next to brief spurts of Shakespeare. I couldn't find anything wrong with this film. Hunky Dory is out on DVD on the 25th of June 2012. BBFC 15 This review was taken from my blog: matthewhurstfilm.blogspot.co.uk