HOWL

"The Obscenity Trial That Started a Revolution. The Poem That Rocked a Generation."

One thing missing from this equation? paper

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked...

I love the poetry of Allen Ginsberg for numerous reasons, but the top 3 are:

1. His frank, stark honesty liberated an entire generation of writers.
2. Poems like Howl are written, as the name would suggest, to be exclaimed passionately and vigorously against "the man" (inner angel-headed hipster breaking out there...)
3. The poem America gave me license to use the word FUCK in a final Honours exam. UP YOURS SQA!

Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman's Howl suggests an insightful study of the court case that shook up the boundaries of American literature for generations to follow. And it does so, neatly, concisely and, at times, humorously. 

The 1957 obscenity trial held against Ginsberg's publisher, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, for publishing such "gross, vulgar and offensive" language, highlights precisley what the audience need to know about the trial and not a stitch more.

The reason being that this is without doubt an academic study of Ginsberg himself: his inspirations, anxieties and motivation to write. From the mental illness of his mother and close friend, Carl Solomon, to his unrequited love of fellow Beat writer, Jack Kerouac, and the difficulty he had embracing an openly homosexual life - this tells all. 

But this ain't no linear flashback depiction. The narrative skips between documentary style interviews, animation, courtroom transcriptions and archival footage...yet somehow, quite miraculously, it works creating an engaging insight into an intensely troubled, but open, mind. 

Trippy, dudddeeee

From the hallucinatory animations to the coffee house readings, the poem pulses steadily throughout the film, carrying the story with it, in an almost rhythmic way; moments of poetic darkness are subtley complimented by troubled insight into Ginsberg's motivation to write that particular stanza.

Smart-bespeckled park smuggery - the perfect Autumnal past-time

And who better to play a poet renowned for his frankness - why James Franco, of course! (sorry, that was painful) And he does not fail to impress - his performance is outstanding. Regardless as to your familiarity with Ginsberg's work, he clearly gives a moving and convincing portrayal of a conflicted young writer. For those of you familiar with Ginsberg's style and mannerisms, you will be suitably impressed with Franco's commitment to the role. He does not miss a beat (again, apologies!)

Any excuse for some unashamed Don Draper action

Jon Hamm makes a relatively small, but notable, appearance as Ferlinghetti's defence lawyer in the courtroom scenes, and Jeff Daniels, makes a similar small splash as an amusingly contradictory professor of English Literature.

To an audience with little interest in the "Beat generation" this may appear to be a somewhat self-indulgent ode to an ode, and to them I say perhaps sit this one out.

But to everyone else I say watch, enjoy and prepare to feel impassioned.




"Follow your inner moonlight; don't hide the madness!" Allen Ginsberg

Rock, paper, scissors - rock ALWAYS wins!

Maybe should've stayed at home with the X-box eh?

I write this still shuddering with tremors of anxiety following last night's screening of 127 Hours. In all honesty, although I'm a huge fan of Danny Boyle, I had my reservations about the story of a climber stuck (quite literally) between a rock and a hard place. I had anticipated tedium, desperation and gore. Foolish Carlin, it's SO much more than that.

Boyle delivers the story of overly-ambitious outdoorsman Aron Ralston with the trademark style, pace and originality seen in Slumdog Millionaire and 28 Days Later. Using the same team from Slumdog clearly pays off; everything from the music to the split-screen action engages the audience from start to finish.

For those entering the cinema knowing the plot, the over-whelming sense of dread of what's to come is constant, but is frequently reduced to more of a dull pang during scenes of humour and poignant flashback. Any film that keeps the audience urging on the protagonist even on the cusp of inevitable horror is, quite frankly, ruddy impressive.

James Franco gives an outstanding performance in what is fundamentally a one-man show; conveying a spectrum of emotions convincingly, with just the right amount of humour and charm to keep the audience captivated and rooting for him.

It's impossible not to mention "the scene" - the one in which Ralston is forced to tear off his own arm with a blunt knife, in a state of dehydration and delirium following five days trapped in the canyon. I think it's safe to say not one person in the full cinema sat comfortably through this scene. There were gasps, squeals and jackets at eye-level for the entirety. Upon exiting the cinema, everyone looked suitably exhausted.

Those of a nervous temperament/ with high blood pressure should perhaps give this one a miss - anxiety junkies will be in their element!

Killer Queens

When drag goes bad

Tonight's blog is not about blood-thirsty monarchs, but the other type of queen - draaaaaaaaag, darling.

Twas just yesterday I was visiting my friend's fashion blog (FOURTY FOUR SUNSETS - check it out!) and came across a photo of James Franco kitted out in his finest female clobber, complete with more eye-shadow than Pat Butcher at Christmas and more lipstick and lashes that Girls Aloud combined (so roughly a metric tonne).

The result is quite shocking.

He simultaneously looks pretty and masculine, and altogether quite bizarre. I choose "bizarre" as I can't quite make up my mind about this: on one hand he is undoubtedly a tarted up man, but on the other he most definitely has more striking features than most of the beasts spotted roaming Paisley on a Saturday night.

And even though I can't shake the idea that he looks like a Muppet version of Barbara Streisand - something about the eyes - I think the main thing to take away from this is that he owns it. Now I don't know if he has done this shoot to reflect his committment to the role or to display his diversity as an actor (coz let's face it no-one got "diverse" from Spider-Man).

But as Tyra Banks would say, it is FIERCE!


This got me to thinking about other men in film that make beautiful women.

Without doubt the first that sprang to mind was Mexican actor Gael Garcia Bernal. Most renowned for Che Guevara biopic The Motorcycle Diaries and sex-fuelled-teen-exploration Y Tu Mama Tambien, it's his role in Pedro Almodóvar's Bad Education that shows him in a more feminine light.

Front runner for the remake of Pretty Woman

I say more feminine - i mean raging queen. This story of murder, betrayal, catholicism and transexuality allows Bernal to play both male and female roles, powerfully conveying various perspectives and sexual ideologies.

And by god, does he make one pretty woman. In fact, if they were to remake "Pretty Woman" I genuinely think he'd be in with a shout. Sorry Julia, there's a new girl in town...


Queens that didn't make the cut:
- Tony Curtis in Some Like It Hot
- Roger Taylor in Queen's I Want To Break Free


I'm signing off with another two examples of actors who have donned frocks and slap for their art (and let's face it - just to prove that they can pull it off)
The clues are in the captions - answers on a postcard!

Not being Cilli-an, but she is one hot mama!

Hey Jude! I thought you were a dude...