Sunday, January 31, 2010

Though my reputation as a shut-in is relatively intact, I have dragged myself out of the bunker this weekend. Yesterday, I went to Glasgow to pick up various bits and pieces including a proper film festival programme. Besides the fact that the PDF version is fine for scanning through, you can’t get to the nitty gritty. By the time it got to leaving town, I’d had quite enough of the Saturday crowds. My quest even took me into a couple of “department stores”. To say my navigational skillis in such places suck is do damn such abilities with glowing praise. In one of them, I saw licensed Ramones T-shirts and no amount of heel clicking would make them disappear. Some plans for the close of February were made but more about those, as and when. Meanwhile, if you’ve a mind to attend the GFT Feelgoods thing on Tuesday (2nd), you should sort out your tickets now. It's also at Filmhouse in Edinburgh from February 5th - 7th.

Today I saw “Where The Wild Things Are” and it’s a well realised thing indeed. I’m not entirely sure that the film itself isn’t just a more stylised version of HR Pufnstuf with some metaphoric underlay but it’s a reasonable way to spend 94 minutes or however long. Much as I don’t rate the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Karen O’s soundtrack is the perfect punctuation of the “wild rumpus”. I do like Catherine Keener in anything and to be honest, “Max” should have got a clip round the ear for running away and destabilising the monsters equilibrium for a while rather than getting a hug. The costume was more like a sheep than a wolf too and it must have been pretty ripe after all his time in the canyons of his mind. There were very young kids there and I think certain aspects scared the bejeezus outta them. Time will nae doobt tell for the parents that inflicted this on them for their own selfish ends.

By the time it gets to now on a Sunday, it’s pretty much all over bar the shouting. This will be a short week though so I shouldn’t complain too hard although it won’t be a cakewalk. The plan at this juncture is to spend the remainder of the day, reading in total silence. Wish me luck. 'bye January, mind the door doesn't hit your bahookie on the way out.