Review: Unkle at the Opera House Monday 8th May 2011

A light rain blew across our bows as we ran up the steps of the Sydney Opera House for Unkle in concert, supported by a half dozen members of the philharmonic strings orchestra.

If you want a technical account of the evening, I’d stop reading this review immediately.  I’m not the guy who knows the names of the songs, and I’m not going to discuss the nuances in their performance.  What I will say, however, is that given Ice House died in the early 90’s I am very pleased to have Unkle in my life to fill the cavernous space left by the deceased.  If Fat Boy Slim exhumed Ice House’s remains, plucked some DNA and made sweet love to it, you would have Unkle. 

The glorious birthchild.

As said I shan’t attempt a technical dissection of any kind (as with all good reviews) however I shall at least try to define the type of music they play.  I’m thinking Ballardic Electro.  Pretty sure I just made up a new genre.  And if ballardic isn’t a word then it should be.

And so back to the evening which is on the chilly side of warm as the crowds file in a cordial manner to assume their position in the theatre-style seating.  At this point I wish I’d had more to drink as I hadn’t quite pushed through the sobriety barrier with the four beers I’d put away over the past two hours or so. 

Having settled in our seats the group from the UK wasted no time in joining the stage.  I guess they were paying by the hour for the venue.  A venue which, all things considered, is probably a tad over rated.  The Opera House is a lovely-looking bag of tiles, don’t get me wrong.  But if you’re singing in a bucket, I don’t care if that bucket has pretty frills and a nice fascinator on the handle... you’re still singing inside a bucket.  And the acoustics were suitably mashed up.

Immediately on taking the stage the light show begins.  High beams flashed through my retinas at such speed I had an epileptic fit for the sheer convenience of it.

But the twitching wasn’t the worst affliction from the light show.  Even worse, you could see everyone sitting, arms folded, and obviously more sober than I.  There was more judgement than a courtoom.  You could cut the scrutiny with a knife. 

If only they could have turned the bastards off; I wouldn’t have been gruesomely aware of ten thousand people staring at me, watching me fidget with the lining of my pockets.  I saw a guy standing next to me – which was ballsey, very ballsey –while almost everyone behind him was sitting down, burning into their seats and probably trying not to do anything that brought undue attention to them.  Of course, a few others stood every now and then throughout the evening.  Stood, burned, sat down.  Pity.  Stood.... a good bit of the song... lights come on....objection Your Honour and you’re on the stand.  Sits down again and discovers a new bit of lint in their pocket.  Awesome.

It was like having a party at your parents’ house but your parents are still there.  It’s just not ok.

To their credit, Unkle tried their damndest to get the crowd into it, even saying at one point “It’s ok to stand, I promise” but we were having none of it.  Having a good time was obviously less important than not looking like a tool.

If this gig were held anywhere else I get the sense it would have gone off.  It’s to Unkle’s credit that I enjoyed myself despite the conditions.  The band went hard, the songs were great, and I’ll go see them next time they’re in Sydney.   Assuming it’s not at the Opera House.

There’s my technical conclusion.

Movie Review: Scream 4

Back in the 90’s many good things happened.  Michael Jackson sang a duet with Britney Spears, the television series Party of Five came to an end, and Wes Craven gave us the horror movie Scream.  Tonight I was audience to the fourth edition of this franchise. 

If you’re planning on watching this film, don’t read this review.  Firstly, it will give away the plot, and secondly, well, just don’t read this review.

The film is based loosely around lead character Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell) and her seemingly insatiable desire to return to the town of death where every summer a new kid from the local high school puts on a mask and becomes a knife-wielding maniac; which of course inevitably leaves Sidney embroiled in a new fight for her life etc etc. 

The plot structure ambled down the same trodden path, stabbing and slashing at whatever was left of the goodwill created by the original 15 years earlier.  There was plenty of blood, not all of it reserved for the victims of the movie, who, curiously, find it impossible to prevent a 13 year old girl from stabbing them repeatedly and at will (I mean - a simple slap in the face would surely have sorted her out?)

By now you will know the masked man is actually a 13 year old girl, who for some reason stands about 9 foot 13 inches when she's wearing her garb.  The scriptwriters perhaps wrote in the subtext she was wearing stilts - but she didnt appear that awkward when running up flights of stairs.  

Don’t worry though, if the villain doesn’t scare you, her motive will:  she decided to stabbity-stab stab due to discontent at her cousin Sidney getting more attention than she ever did.  Give you a moment to reflect on that...  Probably the poorest motive since the “Why not?” scriptwriters fall back on whenever their budget cannot extend to creative thinking.

While on script; it’s never a good sign when you’re 15 minutes into the film and genuinely anticipating the film’s first climax.  I mean, there’s only so many times the audience can watch a person get chased up the stairs and stabbed at the landing before it gets a little, well, boring?  The writers have sought to fix this malady by sending two victims up the stairs for twice as much stabbing.  Unfortunately the genius insight did not have the desired effect on this viewer.

Luckily however there was one moment when their attempt at shock cinematography paid off and my heart rate flirted with normal levels of activity; but for the most part the only tension was in Courtney Cox’s face.  Couldn’t tell if it was the plastic surgery or the fact that she was clearly uncomfortable acting with her ex husband David Arquette.  If you do end up watching this film, wait for the scene towards the end when Courtney Cox is in hospital and says to him “I love you too”.  It’s far more gruesome than preceding scenes.

To put a positive spin, no doubt this film has filled Craven’s coffers; meaning of course we won’t have to see it picked up, dusted off and re-sequenced for at least a decade (at which point the casting agent will probably have to dig up Courtney Cox and prop her into position).

And so, aside from the gruesome reality of Courtney Cox’s fight against ageing, there wasn’t anything in this film that interested me.  It was borderline cynical, and, frankly, I might have asked for my money back if I hadn’t been in the company of a lady.

I give this production a solid 1 star out of 5.  And it gets the star because it conforms to all the minimum requirements of being a film; in that it has a beginning (contentious), middle and an end.  If you like pain, pay to go see it.