Sunday 5 April 2009
Dreams. I had them, I’ve forgotten them. They were linked to both friends and work colleagues past and present. I have a bad feeling Gringo Records was mentioned in there to coincide with business discussion with a current boss unable to get with the concept that it is and was always a hobby label and not a real professional record label. I emerge from the dream feeling scolded and miserable.
It is Sunday and yet I find myself awake at 6.45AM. This now means around midday I will feel sleepy and pathetic. During the night I appear to have sloped into the middle of my bed as my legs hang over the end of my bed and the knackered mattress has its way with me, almost sucking me in like that pit monster in Return Of The Jedi (The Sarlacc).
For breakfast I have the remaining steamed dim sum bun that Nora brought in for me on Wednesday. One minute in the microwave and it tastes fantastic, burning a flavour hole of joy in my mouth. What a gift.
Staggering around I wind up back in bed when I pick at my recent downloads and decide to watch Attention Scum. Why have I never got around to watching this sooner? I have seen Simon Munnery perform and barely “got it” but in this format his delivery is genius, one of the sharpest and quickest wits in modern comedy. I cannot believe this show dates back to 2000, it is fresh and pretty much faultless. I couldn’t say it is a mystery why this hasn’t been released on DVD (it is very sharp and appears occasionally mean spirited) but it is a minor crime to comedy that it hasn’t been released on DVD.
Still unable to muster any movement I remain in bed watching downloads as I take in Frost/Nixon. This is a long and slow movie. My initial reaction is disappointment. The major flaw in the movie is how the Frost just does not ring true with the TV personality that we in the UK know in the flesh. This portrayal makes him out to be something of a Dudley Moore-esqe playboy. Michael Sheen as in The Damned United reminds me too much of a Mike Yarwood impression which turns this Frost into some kind of Alan Partridge-esqe version, albeit one that is good with the ladies.
I enjoyed the build up of the movie but when it reached the actual interview portions I felt it lacked bite and suspense and after such a hyped introduction almost failed to amount to much. In showing a little emotion it is difficult to accuse Nixon of defeat or losing face. I actually found myself almost siding, liking and sympathising with Nixon. I think that due to how David Frost stole Peter Cook’s satirical thunder (and possibly career) before selling out causes conflict and elements of our generation to have disdain for him immediately.
All in all the whole movie feels quite tame, especially in its attitude towards Nixon, after being used to reading and watching Hunter S Thompson regularly bashing and savaging Nixon for years at every given opportunity. Then again anything would appear tame in comparison to that but I do feel I have learned more over the years about Nixon from Hunter S Thompson than I did from this dramatic portrayal. Ultimately on a Bob Woodward kick I think I was expecting the movie to be more revealing in a similar manner to the much underrated John Belushi biopic Wired, which it would appear I am the only person in history to actually like.
Ultimately I think the fact that during the movie I once feel asleep during it and then I stopped it to briefly to look at pornography instead speaks bad volumes about it.
Afterward I head to Sainsburys to grab the Sunday newspaper. As I drive there (to Stanway) I remember lost Easters around this area spent hanging around en masse at Chris’ parents’ place. Also I fondly recall the many Friday nights that we would stock up on booze here before heading to mine (Bohemian Grove) for a party prior to heading into town wasted in the hope of banging/bumping into friends or future wives.
Upon returning home I endeavour to get into some writing but it comes very slowly and with little in the way of satisfaction. Why am I struggling so much these days?
By way of distraction I resume watching the JPod TV show in the sad realisation that I will soon run out of episodes of the cancelled show that I really love. This is smart stuff.
Eventually I head over to the olds’ for the Sunday 3PM lunch routine. There I watch Manchester United beat Aston Villa 3-2 in a real slog of a game.
There is a new episode of The Simpsons on tonight featuring the Credit Crunch hitting the Simpsons as their house gets auctioned off and purchased by Flanders who becomes their landlord. To me The Simpsons now plays like a sketch show, it gets in its jokes but rarely plays out a decent story/narrative. In recent years though it has felt more topical and explicitly satirical, if not always funny. The character Flanders will always cause me discomfort as he reminds me of too many people I know (have known) for comfort.
When I finally get home it is a Sunday night. Sunday nights no longer fill me with the dread that they once did but they do usually leaving me feeling still exhausted. Oh well.