I Know What Everyone Wants

NOT SAFE FOR WORK: CONTAINS DISTURBING IMAGES AND SEX REFERENCES.

Tame The Sun

This One Little Thing She Does Is The Magic

I Get More Than I Deserve

Cross And Bothered

Antichrist, Odeon Telford, Tuesday October 6 2009, 8pm.

Lars Von Trier's Antichrist (2009) is an everyday story of love, death, sex, grief, psychotherapy and genital mutilation. Not exactly obvious material for a date movie, then, and if that night's performance was anything to go by not the sort of movie of any kind for about 90% of moviegoers: several walked out, and there was a lot of sighing, snoring, giggling and tutting throughout. Come the closing credits and a dedication to legendary Russian director Andrei Tarkovsky leads one disgruntled punter to chunter 'he should be shot!'. Which was a bit harsh on a poor fellow who's been dead fifteen years!

The film features a therapist (Willem Dafoe) and a writer (Charlotte Gainsbourg) trying to come to terms with their grief when their young son falls out of a window to his death while they have sex against a washing machine. Defoe's character breaks his own professional beliefs by trying to treat his wife himself, leading to the couple confronting nature and their own natures in a secluded retreat in the woods.

(The trailer below contains contentious themes and simulated sex so is NOT WORK SAFE)



Antichrist isn't a conventional horror film, although its' isolated, claustrophobic atmosphere, and focus on the (mental and physical) violence that men and women do to each other and unto themselves, not to mention the supernatural overtones that envelop the second half of the film, ultimately gives it the feel of being one, even though it's a million miles removed from crass contemporary franchises in the medium.

The film is worth sticking with, despite some scenes which seem to have been deliberately rendered boring, some clumsy exposition here and there and occasionally unconvincing effects. This is mainly because at least it's a film that's actually about something, even if its own conclusions seem muddled and potentially offensive (ie. is it a film about misogyny that ultimately becomes mysogynistic?), and also because it's often beautiful to watch, the performances from Dafoe and Gainsbourg match their director for bravery, and the breathtaking audacity of what unspools leave you genuinely uncertain what Von Trier will come up with next. A film, ultimately, that has to be seen to be believed, even though 9 out of 10 of you hepcats will probably prefer the taste of something else entirely.

Dangerous Curves Ahead

To compensate for the promo for last week's Single Of The Week being pulled by the YouTube user, we offer a bonus video for your perusal and entertainment, a tight, moving little toon to accompany the rather fine 'Hotblack' single from Oceanship. Let's see how long this one stays up...

Spring Time

Polly Harvey! Wet 'n' Wild! In a bouncy castle! Press play!

Gig Review Ketchup - Emote Icons

The Walkmen, Barfly, Birmingham, Wednesday February 18 2009, 9.30pm.
Popfest All-Dayer, The Macbeth, Hoxton Street, London, Saturday February 28 2009 4pm.
Future Islands, The Old Blue Last, Great Eastern Street, London, Sunday March 1 2009, 10pm.

Sometimes a great and memorable gig is all about the peripheral details - the company; the ambience; the chance encounters and the general craic. The Walkmen's gig at Barfly was not like that at all. A nightmare journey (packed train, only seat available saw your puce-faced peacemaker caught in a ruckus between a reeking drunk and two wannabe gangstas), a heaving crowd and under-resourced, apparently under-trained bar staff made for one of our less comfortable gigging experiences for some months. So it's good to report that The Walkmen were in good enough form to make you realise why you bother.

Their fondness for vintage musical equipment is well recorded, but it's Hamilton Leithauser's voice that's the truly distinctive instrument at their disposal. No-one can hold a roared note quite like the grizzled frontman, and the band play with the confidence of knowing their latest record (You&Me) has defied all expectations and proved every bit as essential and revelatory as their earlier triumphs. Hamilton's academical background clearly didn't include local British accents though, as his improvised Brummie micktake sounded like Dick Van Dyke at his most hackneyed. Though we'll concede 'One more song, then we'll skedaddle' was a great closing line.

The lead singer of Baltimore's Future Islands has a similar impassioned angst-ridden drawl as The Walkmen vocalist, but it's allied to a frothy synth-and-bass backdrop to create a surreal vibe like the musical equivalent of 'Twin Peaks'. At the end of a long, great day which included a football match, catching up with friends and attendant beers, maybe it was our tired, emotional state that left us seduced by their woozy late-night ruminations, but later inspection of 'Wave Like Home' reveals gems like 'Beach Foam' and 'Old Friend' would resonate vividly on even the gloomiest of evenings.

The previous day we'd been round the corner celebrating all things bright and shiny-eyed at the Popfest All-Dayer. This allowed us to reacquaint ourselves with Sweden's Liechtenstein, who have trimmed down to a three-piece since last year's Autumn Store gig and delightful singer Renee's gained a blonde rinse and a Mo-dettes t-shirt into the bargain. Electrelane's harmonies are pleasingly grafted to an early 80s bed-sit pop feel to diverting effect, we recommend you buy their new Everything's For Sale ep now and start salivating for the debut album due later this year.

The Scandinavian presence didn't end there, with Action Biker proving the other revelation on the night, a pretty young lady in a beautiful dress cooing conversational melodies to pre-recorded music that would have strong appeal to fans of Saint-Etienne. Suppose it could be glibly dismissed as 'laptop karaoke' but she had the presence and charm, not to mention voice and hooks, to coax something magical and entrancing from the simple set-up.

Elsewhere on the bill The Pete Green Corporate Juggernaut offered barbed topical popcult anthems in the mould of Half Man Half Biscuit; Town Bike delivered a lively but surprisingly melodic set that would appeal to fans of HMHB and Helen Love; The Loves brought a harder, druggier feel to proceedings with some driving rock songs and no popfest is complete without a spirited, entertaining set from the marvellous Smittens. Only Help Stamp Out Loneliness failed to ignite our passions, but this emptiness may have had more to do with our hunger at this point than the band's lacking - with no food on the premises even the most inimitable indiefans need refuelling and as hard as we tried, sustenance by Guinness alone didn't quite see us through to the end of the night.

High Quality

Hippychick fuckyou anthem to chugging quasi-Strokes chords? We're in!!! And while we're at it, can we ask that all promo videos from now on feature someone playing the piano with stiletto heels? We're referring of course to 'My High' from Jonna Lee, the lead single from her upcoming sophomore album, which has a tender acoustic cover of The Killers' 'Human' on the flip (note: the lyrics still make no sense whatever).



Parallax View Single Of The Week, unless our highs deceive us!

E Gore

Donkey Punch, Cineworld Broad Street, Birmingham, Tuesday June 22 2008, 7pm.

Who knew that Eli Roth's Hostel, in which hormonal Westerners are butchered abroad for their unethical behaviour, would be the single most influential film of the latter part of this decade? Goes to show that if you make a cheap film that brings in huge profits and critical kudos you instantly create a template for others to follow. Oliver Blackburn's Donkey Punch at least comes to the slightly different and entirely reasonable conclusion: Brits aboard are (quite literally) their own worst enemy.

So we have three girls from Leeds abroad on holiday hooking up with a British crew of likely lairy lads on a luxury yacht. Ecstasy and hardcore Russian drugs leads to orgiastic ecstasy and softcore sex, until things take a sudden swerve to the worse when the titular sex act leaves one of the participants in the fleshy fivesome experiencing the 'petit mort' a little too literally for everyone's comfort. It's then every lad and ladette for themselves as the bodycount piles up amidst recriminations, cover-ups and sheer lunatic bloody-mindedness.

Donkey Punch has been described as a kind of Dead Calm for the Ibiza set, benefitting from a decent soundtrack that includes Parallax View faves The Knife and Peter Bjorn and John. While there are numerous faults (banal, seemingly semi-improvised dialogue, wavering performance levels, all-over-the-place plot structure), some of these weaknesses actually help Donkey Punch overcome the main danger in making this type of movie: formulaic predictability. The result is a bloody mess from just about any perspective, but remains gripping, stylish entertainment, different from the norm but not so out-there that people won't get it, and seems destined for cult status when it finds its natural home on DVD.