OOTD: Once you go Hobbs, you don't go back

I always thought there was a certain élan that came with Hobbs dresses, perhaps, in part, because 'Hobbes' happens to be the surname of Miranda from Sex and the City, the high-powered, successful career lady of the show. So it was like, in wearing Hobbs dresses, I would, by extension, be having a bit of Miranda in me!

Dress: Hobbs

Necklace: a gift

Earrings: Christmas market stall

Glasses: Red or Dead

Jacket (to the side): United Colours of Benetton

Hopefully, in the future, I'll build up more supplies of gorgeous Hobbs dresses, so I can emulate the most intelligent Sex and the City character more!

Speaking of film/TV characters' influences on my sartorial choices, when I now go clothes shopping, I seek to emulate the styles of certain sharply-dressed women. Alicia Florrick from The Good Wife and Rachel Zane from Suits are the two at the top of my list.

And, having recently watched the enjoyably soapy A Simple Favour, I am absolutely living for Blake Lively in menswear...

Work wardrobe goals!!

Bar review: THE REDCHURCH BAR (Shoreditch)

The last time I had cocktails using a Groupon deal with my friend Rebecca was The Escapologist in Covent Garden, which, despite a customer who rudely pushed in in front of me, was a thoroughly enjoyably evening. Rebecca and I had had our boozy night back in September of 2016. Almost nine months later, here I was, taking advantage of another Groupon deal, again with the same babe.

However, the original plan had to been to visit The Redchurch Bar with a friend on May 20th. We arrived in Shoreditch at 4pm (where both the Groupon deal and Google say the bar is open from), but the doors weren’t open. We assumed the bar staff were just running a little late, so settled up shop in The Verge across the road, where, graciously, there was also a Happy Hour (review of The Verge coming soon).

We sat in The Verge until 7pm, occasionally popping over to see if it had opened yet. It never did, although at some points, a man (presumably the manager) was standing behind the locked door, furrowing his brows whilst on his phone. Eventually we gave up hope on our Redchurch cocktails, and went for dinner in Brick Lane. But that was really, really annoying. Of all the problems I’ve had with Groupon, up until then, I’d never experienced a place not actually being open.

So, of course, it was with trepidation that I approached the place with Rebecca some 10 days later. Amazingly, it was open! Admittedly, we got there a bit later, 8:30pm, but the lack of staff was telling immediately; it was a fairly spacious bar, yet I only spotted two couples in The Redchurch bar.

Something inconvenient that this place did with their deal which both The Escapologist and Adventure Bar eschewed (by allowing the deal-holder to open up a tab) was that we had to order all our cocktails at once. This wasn’t ideal because it meant some drinks lost some of their chill towards the end, and as we all know, if there’s anything I need more of, it’s chill.

Even more annoyingly, was the fact that they didn’t have ingredients for a bunch of the drinks. As I’ve stipulated in past reviews of Groupon cocktail deals, if I’ve shelled out £24 for six cocktails, I want to maximise my returns by ordering the most expensive drinks. There were several which were £11.50 here, and the one which caught my attention was the ‘Chinese Cosmopolitan’. I’m Chinese, and I love Sex and the City, so that drink sang to me straight away.

Even more worryingly, they didn’t have lychee to make that drink, and they also conspicuously lacked the ingredients for several of the other drinks which cost £11.50. To not have the ingredients for one cocktail is bad enough, but for the waitress to continually tell me I couldn't have what I desired because they didn't have the components? Poor af.

In the end, Rebecca and I were able to find three drinks apiece that we liked, and here they are:

My top 10 films of 2016 [10 to 6].

I know it took me long enough to compile this list, but I had to wait until Handmaiden got its UK release before I felt my 2016 list (going by US release dates in order to calibrate my list with all the bloggers I love) was well-researched enough.

Three films which ran Aquarius very close were Hell or High Water, Someone to Talk To and Certain Women. They would take 11-13 places on the list, naturally. 14th would go to Peter Berg's Patriots Day, mind, so you can take my recommendations with a pinch of salt.

10. Aquarius

Are you sure, BBFC?

My Sex and the City season 5 DVD featured one of those old school-style BBFC boxes which I would argue was downright incorrect:

A show called 'Sex and the City' which revolves around the sex lives of four women contains infrequent sex references?? And just sex references, but no sex scenes?

The BBFC examiners for season 5 must have switched off for the entire boxset and just (lazily) churned out a report at the end.

----

More BBFC nerdiness here.

Bar review: ORIOLE BAR (Farringdon)

My favourite TV show of all time, Sex and the City, has a lot to answer for. Of the four lead females, the one I recognise myself in the most is definitely Carrie Bradshaw (played by Sarah Jessica Parker with considerable wit and flair). Carrie doesn’t take break-ups well, tends to fall hard in love with men who are no good for her, and is a writer. (Admittedly, I write for a blog, she writes for a state-wide newspaper, but still).

Furthermore, it was only because Carrie loved Cosmopolitans so much that I began drinking Cosmopolitans, and if I am ever in a cocktail bar, that’s my go-to drink. At Oriole bar, ordering a Cosmo would be failing to make the most of your opulent surroundings. The bar offers weird and wonderful concoctions featuring the most out there ingredients, including egg yolk, tobacco liquor and, er… dust.

The menu, which is divided by parts of the world (which inspired the various cocktails), is in itself, longer than most children’s books. I’m not being funny, but at 8pm when you just wanna get drunk with your girlfriends so you can trash-talk the clown men in your life (couldfillabook.jpg), who’s got time to read a whole MSc project-length??

That’s not to say that the drinks, and the food, sparse in quality as it was, wasn’t well presented.  Looks-wise, it certainly turned my head:-

That being said, the ostentatious presentation comes at a cost in terms of practicality. As the night progressed and I lost control of my motor neurones, I tipped over my awkwardly-shaped glass. Thankfully this was at the end and only ice cube spilt, but some of them went on the poor lady sat next to me. Hardly ideal.

The barfood was equally impractical. The chorizo, photographed below, whilst delicious, was I wolfed it up in about three bites. I've been curious about what exactly quinoa is since I saw Gone Girl  two months ago and Ben Affleck was mocked for thinking it was kind of fish. Turns out that what it actually is is some bland-ass flavourless pseudo-cereal concoction. Boring, and the pittance of salsa sauce put on it hardly merited the £7.50 price. That's £2.50 per fritter. Would you pay £2.50 for something you can barely see?!

Overall, I found Oriole too pretentious, and if I’m complaining about something being too pretentious, you know you’ve got problems. I guess I’m just too direct a person. I love cocktails, but I like to have two or three different alcoholic ingredients, a few mixers, and boom. And I’d rather my mixer didn’t include something that could give me an allergy!

Oriole bar is more of a status symbol than it is a viable drinking hole. People would bring guests here just to show that they can; that they can afford to throw away £14 on a cocktail with about 3 alcohol units in, tops.

I’d rather have Cosmopolitan, thanks.

Grade: C

Film review: THE INBETWEENERS MOVIE (Ben Palmer, 2011)

Anyone who watches the show knows the set up of the inbetweener boys: Will McKenzie, bespectacled, well-mannered but massively irritating, his best friend Simon, the most attractive of the clan but let down by his gelled-up hair and his relentless thirst for pricktease Carli D’Amato, who clearly doesn’t feel a fraction of the intensity he does to her, dim and slow-witted Neil, and Jay, chronically bullshitting about women he’s shagged, things he’s done, and er, women he’s shagged. 

The four boys’ ridiculously embarrassing travails through life made for three hugely entertaining series on Channel 4, albeit with the third series being discernibly less funny than the previous two, series three feeling a lot like a re-hash of the jokes they used before, but turned up to an eleven. Well, in the boys’ big-screen outing, they hit Greece on summer holiday, and now they have a brand new country to bring their individual brand of gross-out comedy to.

Perverse as it is, throughout the film, I was actually reminded a bit of the Sex and the City movies, except for four boys rather than women. Now, hear me out. Lots of people felt disappointed with Sex and the City the Movie, feeling it was just one drawn out episode, but that’s pretty much the same with the Inbetweeners Movie, and in both movies, I had a terrific time. 

Further more, as with Sex and the City, despite all the women being well into their forties (and Samantha considerably older), they all have their journeys to make, lessons to learn throughout the course of the film, whether that be about courage, sacrifice, fidelity, or love. The lessons in The Inbetweeners Movie, suffice to say, are a little less meaty, but there is a surprisingly uplifting feel to the way the four boys find redemption in their sweet/sick ways.

Leggy blonde Laura Haddock, who is no stranger to lads’ mags across the UK, leads the quartet of attractive girls who catch the four boys’ eyes. Each girl is pretty in her own way, particularly Laura Haddock (Will’s love interest Alison) with her astoundingly definded cheekbones and babydoll eyes and Tamla Kari, the pretty brunette who clearly likes Simon, despite the fact that he is still blindly going on about Carli, who, incidentally, is also at Malia. 

The way the four boys eff it up with their respective female counterparts is exactly like in an episode of the show, except, this being the big-screen, the writers Damon Beesley and Iain Morris were a little more generous to their four long-suffering leads. Nonetheless, all four boys make more than their share of horrendously cringe-inducing gaffes along the way.

This being The Inbetweeners, you can pretty much make a mental ticklist of things you’re going to hear jokes about: masturbation, anal sex, other weird sex practices, poo, the list is endless. The characters also get involved in embarrassing situations not involving bodily functions or fluids; witness Jay as he tries to drown a well-meaning-but-slightly-annoying-boy on holiday, or Will, King of putting his foot in it, when he argues with a handicapped girl’s dad over rights to a lounge chair. 

But the funniest scene in the entire film was, for me, the cringefest that was Neil, Will and Simon trying to get the girls’ attentions by dancing up to them. If you can call it dancing. I call it “sides splitting with laughter.”

Critics have hailed The Inbetweeners Movie prurient, juvenile, and relentlessly crude. They are right. Some of the jokes do fall flat, but the ones that are good are great, and coupled with a cheesy-cool soundtrack, some genuine drama (Simon and Jay fall out, like, omgz!!!!) and an arsenal of one-liners that will have you hiding behind your hands with embarrassment, The Inbetweeners Movie pretty much does what it says it would on the tin, with an added bonus of the unexpected but genuine satisfaction the viewer gets from seeing our four boys become men – sort of.

Grade: B+

The night Peter Crouch-ed and Bern-ed.

In series 1, episode 17 of Glee, Mr Schue tells Quinn Fabray, of the trials and tribulations of high School: “A couple of bad decisions and you go from the top to the bottom”. He could just as easily have been talking about football. For Spurs in the Champions League, Peter Crouch was one of their star men; where he has disappointed in the league this season, he has more than made up for in the big European platform with goals against the likes of Inter and AC Milan, some of them pivotal ones (he scored the winning goal against AC Milan that was the difference between the two sides). In fact, it wouldn’t be an overstatement to say that, yesterday, going into the first leg of their quarter final clash with Jose Mourinho’s Real Madrid, he was just as integral to Tottenham’s plans as their wing wizard Gareth Bale, whom the Spurs manager Harry Redknapp had valued at £80million.

Unfortunately, the big occasion got to the big man. In eight minutes, Peter Crouch made two rash tackles. The first, on Sergio Ramos, was misplaced and mis-timed. The second on Marcelo, when he was already on a yellow, was downright stupid. Even as – what I consider to be – the biggest Crouchie fan in the world, there is no justifying his two idiotic tackles. He rightful sending was essentially the catalyst for Tottenham’s implosion at the Bernabéu. At that point they were 1-0 down, but with almost three hours ahead of them, had everything to play for. The match ended 4-0 with the return leg at White Hart Lane next Wednesday (of which my younger brother will be attending as his 13th birthday "present"), looking like nothing more than a formality. In the space of eight minutes, Peter Crouch went from hero to zero.

Even with the best will in the world, I cannot find any ways to justify Peter Crouch’s two awful tackles. All I can do is examine them and attempt to delve into the black hole that is a footballer’s mind – and try to explain them. The first element, I think, is the psychological. Before the game, Peter Crouch had been talked up, down and all around by various members of the English and Spanish media, not to mention Real Madrid players themselves. Former Arsenal player Emmanuel Adebayor said of his fellow lanky striker, “When I was playing in England I always loved a lot of Tottenham players, especially Peter Crouch”. The much-maligned Togo striker completed an acrimonious move north of London to Manchester to play for Man City, and was in the side that lost to Spurs on the 5th May 2010 in what was dubbed as the “Fourth Place Showdown”, in which Crouch gave his counterpart Adebayor a masterclass in how to maintain possession, pass to teammates, and above all, score. Yet, yesterday, Adebayor hit the net twice, and played majestically, whereas Crouch walked after 15 minutes, so there is no question who came out the winner this time round.

Elsewhere, where Adebayor talked Crouch up, former Chelsea defender and Mourinho faithful Ricardo Carvalho took particular glee in talking the 6’7” striker down. He claimed that Peter Crouch “was easy to play against.” Whether he genuinely thought that, or he was just trying to psyche the England man out, we’ll never know, but he certainly succeeded in unsettling Crouch, because those words clearly had their impact; Crouch is by nature a mild-mannered footballer who doesn’t make a habit of making rash tackles. Yet he dished out two tackles yesterday that would probably have made Nigel De Jong shudder. There’s a sort of grim humour in thinking that Mourinho still hasn’t ended his constant mind-games, but the chants of “Tonto!” directed at Crouch by the Real Madrid fans obviously aren’t totally inaccurate; Carvalho played Crouch like a five dollar banjo.

It’s a massive shame because as I have mentioned, it’s hardly as if Peter Crouch as been setting the premier league alight with his scoring this season. He has played very well with Rafael van der Vaart, no doubt about it, and he has provided the majority of the Dutchman’s assists in the league, but Crouch invariably would have wished to scored more himself; many Spurs fan often question why Crouch plays so much and Pavlyuchenko so little. The Champions League is (was?) the one platform where he truly shone this season, scaring the majority of defenders senseless with his unusual frame and playing style. That he has done so much for Spurs in the CL this season will instantly be forgotten. It is irrelevant that he was such a huge factor in putting them in the Quarter Finals, because it is also he who has almost single-handedly prevented them from progressing further. The Guardian gave his performance against AC Milan in the first leg at the San Siro a 9/10, a score they very rarely dish out unless in the face of true excellence. What did they give him for his performance last night? A two. And the sad thing is, that was being generous.

With Tottenham staring at the bleak pit of Champions League exit and facing an uphill battle with Chelsea and Manchester City for the two remaining Champions League places in the premier league, the only way Peter Crouch can go from here is up. That’s the thing about football, it goes hand in hand with failure, with wrath, with moments of madness. But it is also ten-a-penny with redemption. As Stuart Pearce demonstrated with his penalty for England in Euro 96, the road to personal atonement lies in football. I began with a quote from one of my favourite shows, Glee, so I’ll end with another quote from another one of my favourite shows, Sex and the City. Our protagonist, Carrie, has just embarrassed herself hugely in tripping up on a catwalk, in front of hundreds of people. She has a choice, run away and hide, or get up, and proudly get on with it. She does the latter. Why? Because, as she reasons, “When real people fall down in life, they get right back up and keep walking.” In 1990, Stuart Pearce fell down. In 1996, he pulled himself back up. Now it is up to Peter Crouch, and Peter Crouch alone, to do the same.

If we make it there, we can make it anywhere that's what they say.

In between watching copious amounts of football this Summer, the rest of my free time will be spent at the cinema, enjoying the luxury seats and watching the new releases. Here are my thoughts on the last two films I watched, and the cinemas I watched them in.

Streetdance 3D (Max Giwa& Dania Pasquini, 2010)
A group of inner-city youths in London, part of the dance troup Jay 2.0, are told at the start of the film that they have gotten to the streetdance finals, where if they win that, they will get to go to New York and a promising future of dance. However, immediately after this, the leader, Jay, announces he wants to take time out from dance, leaving his estranged girlfriend Carly in dhance. She is a skilled fancer but lacks the natural leadership Jay possesses, and her initial attempts at holding rehearsals go awry, especially when they lose their regular training space and can't find a suitable replacement. However, after a serendipitous encounter with eccentric ballet teacher Helena, who is impressed by Carly's vibrancy and liveliness, leads to an interesting proposal - she can train with her group in the ballet halls, if she can incooporate the ballerinas in the streetdance performance.



The mismatch between the snooty ballet performers and the earthy streetdancers is that of chalk and cheese, but that is one of the biggest charms about the film; the initial anomisity guraduates into acceptance before finally a fusion of ideas - it's like the Romeo and Juliet of dance, but with a happy ending.

The cast, needless to say, are not going to trouble the Oscar board any time soon, though they're not aided by a script that churns out a whole range of cliches that someone who's never set food in London might expect them to say. But lead Nichola Burley holds her own as the heroine well enough, and shines in all the dance montages. Charlotte Rampling has given plenty of performances 10 times the calibre of the one she gives here, but such is the strength of her acting that even in autopilot, she's nothing less than thoroughly watchable.

Of course, the reason performances and script matter so little in StreetDance 3D is due to the dancing, and oh, what dancing. Set to a killer soundtrack of familiar urban bands and artists (including "We Dance On" by N-Dubz, a song written specially for the film) and the dancing is beautiful, tidy, slick and very entertaining. Diversity, Flawless and George Sampson, all of Britain's Got Talent fame feature, and their acts are a treat. But it's the dancing from the spirited streetdance/ballet amalgamation that befounds the most. What seems like polar opposites and shouldn't go at all instead does, and so well. This is a film about dance, and the dancing makes this film. Thoroughly recommended.

I watched this film in Islington Vue, N1 with my brother Tom. The chairs were very comfy and we got great seats. The choice of trailers was a joy - watching Nike's Write The Future advert on the big-screen was as cinematic an experience as you could ask for and unlike other films I've watched in 3D, the 3Dness suited a film like StreetDance 3D. There's also a Sainsbury's and a Waitrose just outside the cinema, so me and Tom went to the former to stock up on cinema snacks at proper prices, rather than get bankrupt in the actual cinema.

Sex and the City 2 (Michael Patrick King, 2010)

When Alicia Keys' soulful vocals on Empire State of Mind played and diamonds sparkled over the credits, my spine tingled and I felt tears well up in my eyes. It was a strange moment, but considering SATC is my favourite TV programme and that I've watched every episode countless times, perhaps my emotional reaction was justified. And the film got off to an interesting start as Stamford Blatch and Anthony Marantino, Carrie's best gay friend and Charlotte's best gay friend respectively, got hitched. Their wedding ceremony is an appropriately lavish affair. But for all the diamonds, I couldn't help feeling that the natural sparkle of the show had gone, the banter wasn't half as witty and even the interaction between the four women - a bond I'd always believed to be truer than true - felt somewhat forced.

Indeed, the lack of sparkle, as commented on by Carrie, is pervading its want into her and Big's marriage. Choosing not to have kids, the two know they are on their own from there on in, and the fact that they are ordering takeout two nights in a row raises alarm bells in her mind.

As Carrie and Samantha in particular of the four frequently live the high life (they are celebrities in a sense, Carrie, a writer, and Sam, a famous PR), it's a little difficult to sympathise with Carrie's so-called plight, particularly, as she herself admits, she'd spent so long running around New York trying to get Big to love her, and now that he does and they are comfortably settled, she feels ennui towards the mundane. Charlotte's story in the film, that she is finding it hard to cope with motherhood but doesn't want to voice her displeasure, is more human and believable.

The majority of the film takes place not in the Big Apple but in the glittering Abu Dhabi, wherein the women are treated to an all-expenses paid holiday. The loose racism is hard to ignore, and to be honest, it jarred rather a lot. But there's fun to be had in British actor Raza Jaffrey's endearing turn as Carrie's humble yet dashing butler, and Samantha's refusal to conform to social customs - Middle East or no Middle East - is so very Samantha.

It was around the moment Big gives Carrie a nice black diamond ring as "punishment" for her kissing Aiden (oh yeah, he pops up) that I wondered just how low Michael Patrick King had sunk. What used to be such a groundbreaking show full of loveable characters growing up and learning from their mistakes now just seemed like an 150-minute long platform for them to make new mistakes in. Had this been any other film, any other four women, I'd happily be laying into it. But, my loyalty to the SATC franchise means I'm still going to give it a semi-decent review. By all means, there are laughs to be had in many of the one-liners (most of them uttered by Kim Catrall), and Miranda and Charlotte have a great scene where they drink cocktails and share maternal woes. As for the clothes and accessories, goddamn. Between Sam's obvious yet terrific YSL earrings and Carrie's beaded bhurka, my eyes were dazzled by the sheer opulence on parade. SATC2 might now have much to say about marriage, sex or the city, but the shoe most certainly still fits.



I watched this film in Vue West End, W1. The tickets were mighty expensive, but, as this area is the cinema central in London, that was expected. I shelled out a further five quid at the Ben and Jerry's stand next to the box office, for three measley scoops of ice cream. But I was hungry, and eating overrpriced Ben and Jerry's heighted my enjoyment of the film, so, there you go.

It's not easy being Green, and it's not easy being Bung.

I feel like a dick whining about my life, as in many ways, I have it pretty good. I live in the suburbs of London, away from the constant babble of noise and action that living in the capital can bring, but close enough to Central London that 15 minutes on the train can bring me to it should I so fancy it. Today, I did fancy it, as my best friend Anna was in London for a fashion shoot, so I thought I'd chill with her beforehand.  In between giggling and bantering, I was able to bask in the busy hubbub and cosmopolitan vibe of London, which is what I love about this city so damn much, as well as enjoy some of the World Cup advertisments littered around tube stations, such as these ones:

After that, Anna headed to her photoshoot and I hit the cinema to see the second film of my favourite TV show, Sex and the City 2. As reviews had warned me, it was, indeed, mighty disappointing. The script had none of the wit of the show, and whereas in the past, the repartee betwen Carrie, Sam, Miranda and Charlotte felt natural and smart, here, some of the dialogue left me physically cringing. Throw in some very dubious morals on the sanctity of marriage, crude racial stereotyping and even the cast looking like they couldn't be bothered, and I was left wondering why I'm still such a devoted SATC fan. But somehow, I still thoroughly enjoyed the film. The costumes were as stunning as you'd expect -the costume designer clearly had a good time enjoying the middle eastern theme and the four leads are kitted out beautifully throughout and despite the stupid things that they do (especially Carrie), I can't help but love them. So, all in all, a good day out for me.

However, all this meant that I missed both South Korea vs. Greece and Argentina vs. Nigeria, which I'm pretty upset about. After all, I'd spent so long getting excited about the World Cup, and, now that it's here, I don't watch the matches? That's just not on. I'm particularly sad I missed the former, as Park Ji-Sung scored. Despite him playing for my most loathed team Manchester United (I'm a Chelsea fan), I love Park a lot, for his work-rate and just how well he carries himself in a game full to the brim of dickish starlets. But whether or not I watched it, I'm delighted he scored.

There were less delights, unfortunately, in the one game I did watch, in which my country participated; England vs USA. This game had been painted as quite the grudge match of late, with even politicans coming out to voice their patriotic support, and plenty of trash-talk occuring beforehand. One of my favourites was the front page of today's The Sun, which poked fun at the way Americans spoke. However, that jokey joke was one of the few things that could be enjoyed about the match. England went off to a great start - Heskey set up Steven Gerrard, who scored neatly and precisely within 4 minutes. The ITV commentators could barely hold in their excitement, "This could be fun!" they said with glee. I was more cautious, more wary. And lo and behold, my pessimism was rightly placed. With American slowly forcing their way back in the game, on 40 minutes, Fulham's Clint Dempsey fired in a speculative shot towards goal. Rob Green caught it. That he did. What he also did was drop it, as the ball bounced behind him and into the goal farcically, leaving him, and England, reeling.

The knee-jerk reaction would be to holler "GREEN OUT!", "ENGLAND FAIL" and various other trite phrases and, whilst his gaffe was unforgiveable, I'd like to make a small case for his defense. The man is young, not terribly experienced on the International scene, and, most importantly, the ball is apparantly a nightmare. This is the consensus amongst all the footballers in the World Cup, goalkeeper, forward, tall or short. Whilst I think that Joe Hart is a better goalkeeper than Green, I don't think benching Green is the solution to all of England's problems.

For one thing, whilst our midfield looked better than I'd feared (both Lampard and Gerrard showed promise and Aaron Lennon had bundles of energy), our defense is still crocked. John Terry cannot be trusted with Wayne Bridge's (not even all that hot) ex-girlfriend, let alone the defensive duties of his country, and despite all the shots we had, precious little of them had any chance of going in. Emile Heskey doesn't seem to know where the goal is, and Wayne Rooney still remains worrying volative. Little went his way today, and he seemed to think it was valid compensation to instead run around and look red-faced; his best Alex Ferguson impression.

Oh, and another thing: Crouchie should've started. Had he started, England would have won. He didn't, and we didn't.

Sex and the City 2 Soundtrack Review.

I'm yet to see the film, but rest assured, when it hits UK cinema screens this Friday, I shall be one of the first ones in the queue to see it. Sex and the City is far and away my favourite television programme of all time; I love it so much that I was able to delude myself into thinking that the first film was good. The second film, I'm sure, will be just as pants, if not more so, but such is my love for the franchise and those four New York ladies, that I won't even give a damn. As such, it's a given that I'd grab hold of the soundtrack as soon as it was out.

I wasn't sure about it when I glanced over the tracks, what with its seeming mishmash of gospel choir, power ballads, and smooth jazz, but I soon found that every single song on the soundtrack had something to recommend. My highlight is easily Alicia Keys' Empire State of Mind Part II, which takes the theme from the original, but instead of collaborating with Jay-Z, her piano features prominently here. "Some will sleep tonight with a hunger for more than an empty fridge" is a particularly beguiling song lyric from it. And it is Alicia Keys, who, like Fergie in the first SATC movie, sings to the well-known SATC theme, in a song called Rapture. It's catchy and sassy, not unlike the four protagonists. the Sex and the City men's choir feature with renditions of three songs; If Ever I would Leave You (so-so), and two stronger ones, Sunrise Sunset (the usage of the violin and the call-and-answer is beautiful) as well as 'Till There Was You, a song originally from the 1957 musical The Music Man. Songs from musicals are clearly a popular motif in this soundtrack, as Shayna Steele, Jordan Ballard and Kamilah Marshall cover Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered, the show tune from the 1940 musical Pal Joey, to extraordinary effect. My favourite rendition of this song remains Ella Fitzgerald's version, but the girls' delivery of the line "Lost my heart, but what of it. He is cold I agree." is positively haunting.

Other highlights of the soundtrack include Liza Minelli's fun, if not totally polished cover of Beyonce's Single Ladies (yep, you heard right), the original True Colours by Cyndi Lauper, and a collaboration between Jennifer Hudson (who appeared in the first film) and Leona Lewis on Love is Your Colour. But there really is something for everyone; the film takes place in the middle East, and Euphrates Dream by Michael McGregor sets the tone for this aptly. The funniest part of the soundtrack is without a doubt SJP, Kim Catrall, Cynthia Nixon and Kristen Davis' complete karoake rendition of I'm a Woman. I love them all deeply, but really loves, don't quit the day job.

Standard.

The bbfc warning for Sex and the City 2 is exactly the same as for Sex and the City the first movie:


Now, I know the first movie wasn't all that compared to the (remarkably high) standards set by the TV show, but I enjoyed it massively nonetheless. And the second installment promises more fabulous costumes, more jokes, and most of all, more of the fab four! Personally, I can't wait. Here's the trailer:

People magazine looks back at the movies of the Summer.

the scan

This is what it said:
Best in Show: The Dark Knight
Funniest performance, intentional: James Franco, Pineapple Express
Funniest performance, unintentional: Pierce Brosnan, Mamma Mia!
Summer MVP, Male: Robert Downey Jr
Summer MVP, Female: Penélope Cruz
Worst Ending: Bung and the City Movie
Best comback: Tom Cruise, Tropic Thunder
Least Memorable: that Indiana Jones movie that came out
Best Romance: Wall-E

Thoughts:
- Good to see Penélope Cruz on there for female MVP (Most Valuable Player). Though I haven't seen Vicky Cristina Barcelona, it looks like a really interesting movie and I hear that Scarlett's trampiness is redeemed by her and Rebecca Hall's loveliness. Plus, I have seen Elegy and whilst the movie itself could be a candidate for "Least Memorable", Penélope Cruz was on sizzling form in it.
- Massive yay for Wall-E as best romance. I think it was one of the most beautiful romances I've ever seen. The romance was so innocent, and different, and refreshing, and cute... And it's not just Wall-E who fell in love with Eve; I did too.



- Do I detect a hint of snobbery? Pierce Brosnan wasn't brilliant in Mamma Mia! (his singing... no thanks!) but he didn't have to be, and I can produce a litany of Summer performances that were much more unintentionally funny than his: Keira & Sienna in The Edge of Love, Luke Goss in Hellboy 2, those two who can't stop bunging in The X-Files Movie, etc etc etc.
- I'm not sure if the film came out in the States, but Somers Town was one of my favourite films of the year. At 75 minutes long, it was a bit of a rip-off where ticket prices are concerned, but the ease and subtlty at which Shane Meadows captured a friendship between two boys in North London was an absolute joy, not least in its own idiosyncracies (one boy gives the other a counterfeit Arsenal shirt with "Terry Henry" on the back).



- Don't think I would have The Dark Knight as the best film of the Summer. Whilst it had many, many amazing qualities and was highly entertaining and thrilling, Wall-E just did a bit more for me. I ♥ Wall-E.

01. University. Discuss.
02. What do you think is the funniest TV programme?
03. What is the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard?
04. What’s the crappest holiday you’ve ever been on?
05. Carrie, Samantha, Miranda or Charlotte? [Sex & the City girls].

Carrie & her clothes.

Carrie Bradshaw/SJP knows how to dress. Looky.







































I has major fashion envy right now.

My Obsession with Film Classifications.

A post in conjunction with Culture Snob’s Self-Involvement blogathon. I thought I’d talk in detail about my weird obsession with film ratings.

To start with, I’ll explain the British rating system. There are 5 ratings: U (suitable for all, the equivalent of G in the US), PG (parental guidance, ditto), 12A (which means that under-12s have to have an adult accompany them. 12A used to be a 12 and was changed to 12A immediately after I turned 12, so I was more than a bit pissed off about it), 15 (no-one under 15 can be admitted) and 18 (no-one under 18 can be admitted.)

The first time I visited the cinema in England was when I was 5. The film that I saw was Toy Story. It was wonderful, really. We had popcorn and sticky drinks and all the usual junk that is forced on you when you step into a cinema. Except, being the first time I’d ever had any of that food, I felt like I was in heaven. And the film itself was an experience of its own; I’d seen cartoons on TV before, but Pixar’s revolutionary brand of CGI amazed me. Back then I was probably too young to appreciate just how gorgeous and how much care had gone into creating every character, but all I know is that I thought it was pretty.

And I also remember being pretty damn scared by Toy Story at certain moments. I’d noticed that it was a PG, and perhaps it was a self-fulfilling prophecy, but knowing that it wasn’t a U-rated film made me scared at several points in the movie; particularly whenever Sid was on. But this whole crazy-obsession-with-film-ratings that I started when I was 5 has definitely carried through, because when I was younger, I used to be immediately terrified/suspicious of a movie if it had the 18 logo on it.

Similarly, if a film were rated 12 or 15, I’d feel a sense of false security when I went into the cinema to watch it. Two cases in point with 12-rated movies: The Others and Red Eye. I was so sure of myself that they’d be harmless, that I’d watch the “scary” scenes and suppress a yawn, but with both movies, that wasn’t the case; I was completely ruffled by parts of the movie.

I didn’t feel so much of a complacency towards watching 15s. This was because, when we were learning Spanish for GCSE, our teacher had played us Talk to Her, which was a 15. Most of us were 14 and 15, and the class was just so immature about the entire movie. I must admit, seeing it for the first time, I was kind of disturbed by certain parts of it, but it wasn’t anywhere near the most disturbing thing I’d ever seen. However, that experience had just shown me that movie ratings are all very well in describing how much swearing, violence, etc is in a movie, but it doesn’t necessarily measure the impact they have on the viewer. (Case in point, Savage Grace, which I saw yesterday. It was just a 15, but the sight of Julianne Moore doing something to her screen-son will disturb me for ages. Another case in point, Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead. That “sex” scene between Philip Seymour Hoffman and Marisa Tomei, shudder.)

Anyway, I’m just really obsessed with movie ratings, even on DVD cases. I used to have this paranoid fear when I was 17 that looking at the back of a DVD case that was rated 18 would get me automatically expelled from HMV. That’s why I’ve never tried buying an 18 when I wasn’t 18. I did buy a few 15s when I was younger than that and got away with it, but that all came to a halt when, on a Summer’s day, I’d tried to buy Ghost World & Dead Man Walking from Virgin Megastores and the store clerk had rudely told me that I “didn’t look anywhere near 15.” I was 14 and a half! Gimp.

To me, that marked my transition from child into adulthood (or child into less of a child).

PS. I dug out an article on the newsround website that I wrote when I was 13, about, surprise surprise, film ratings!

Some movies I has seen recently.

Practically sentence-long reviews, because I’m not feeling too articulate.

- Wanted
Angelina. James. Lotsa guns. Kinda sexy. Kinda fun.

- Sex and the City Movie
Yeah, so it was shallow. Yeah, so it was predictable. Yeah, so there were a lot of labels. But I like all those things. Anyone who willingly chooses to sit through SATC will enjoy it.

- Dear Frankie
So underrated and beautiful, with some amazing acting from Emily Mortimer, Gerard Butler, and mostly, the young lad in the movie. And they played Spiegel im Spiegel! ♥

- Evita
Entertaining. I like musicals now.

- Bigga than Ben
Ironically, my problem with the film is that it wasn’t “big” or overblown enough. But it’s a sweet little black comedy in its own right with an amazing soundtrack. One of the better films of 2008 thus far.

- Fantasia 200
Pretty, but I prefer the original.

- Peter’s Friends
Brannagh! Laurie! Fry! Thompson! Staunton! And the result is, thankfully, equal to the sum of its parts, a thoroughly charming and witty Britcom. ♥