Cluster fuckers

Not content with coating the bottom of the Eastern Mediterranean sea in up to 4 inches of oil by bombing a costal power station (click here for a satellite image), the Israelis spent the last 3 days of the recent war dropping thousands of cluster bombs on southern Lebanon.

The action, condemned today by the UN, has left an estimated 10,000 unexploded cluster bomblets scattered in the countryside and in or near residential areas. This goes completely against the Israeli Defence Force line that they used targeted weapons to pick off strategic targets. Cluster bombs are the exact opposite- innacurate, dispersed and indiscriminate.

Every Israeli- and any anyone else from that matter, which means you United States- who supported this action should hang your head every time an unexploded cluster bomb kills a man, woman or child long after fighting has stopped. Shame on you.

Review: Snakes On A Plane

'Snakes on a Plane' was always going to be a hit because all the online hype, and the following offline hype about the online hype. But is it actually any good?

Well, it's basically it's one melon-farming missed opportunity. Even from the name, fan boys are sat waiting for the barrage of funny quips from Samuel L Jackson, the characters you just know are going to die in inventive ways and perhaps a twist at the end to show it's not all over.

But what you get is a very straight, flat done-on-a-budget disaster movie. Plane takes off, snakes get loose, snakes attack, people fight back, Sam Jackson loses his rag, plane lands, most folk make it.

What is well known about the film is that lots of scenes were added on the suggestions of movie fans on internet message boards. And my God, do they stand out. Look out for any scene where there's extra gore, or one actor is stood against a strangely plain background. Check the close-up of one guy who suddenly starts foaming at the mouth, then in the long shot its all gone; Sam's famous "no more motherfucking snakes on my motherfucking planes" line, and even the pointless surfer ending.

But without these scenes of extra gore, nudity or potty mouthing, you do wonder what sort of film this might have been. Who would have wanted to be basically stuck on a two-hour plane journey with some fairly unpleasant and irritating people, who get cleanly picked off by some polite reptiles? Aside from Sam, ER's Julianna Margulies is the only one who even holds any sympathy from the audience.

This film should have had a life of multiple drunken midnight viewings at the multiplex, followed by cult worship for evermore on DVD. But instead, it will probably spawn a thousand similar lazy copies. Everyone involved should be made to sit and watch 'Tremors' and 'Lake Placid' one hundred times each.

Katrina: One Year On

It's been a year since Hurricane Katrina struck New Orleans and the Southern Gulf Coast of the United States. President Bush is visiting to talk up how his government is doing all it can with the usual outdoor folksy speech and a choreographed walkabout.

There's debate as to how much has changed, and of the parts that have, whether it's for the better. The racial mix in the city has shifted- a year ago, around two-thirds of its 485,000 population was black. Now its less than half the number, and less than half black. A growing Hispanic population are filling manual jobs.

While this might not seem important, the impact on the future of the city's culture, mainly jazz and blues, is yet to be truly felt. This was touchingly illustrated in the recent BBC Four documentary 'Saving Jazz' that followed legendary photographer Herman Leonard around the city trying to salvage some of his shots of legends including Miles Davis, Duke Ellington and Ella Fitzgerald.

He pointed out that one rich source of the city's future music was the school marching band, and that these had dropped from over 200 to around 20 today.

But there are continuing issues with the quantity and quality of housing and basic services such as electricity. It's clear that even as a self-proclaimed 'Southern President', the action to rebuild the city and the surrounding area is still much too little, much too late.

Hello Moto

Stopped at a motorway services today (a Bank Holiday), which was absolutely rammed. Still, what struck me is how different these places are from just a few years ago. And Moto, formerly Granada, have done the most to help change their image.

This services, at Leigh Delamere on the M4, has a big new (to me) Ritazza coffee lounge, a Upper Crust baguette stand, a new WH Smith newsagent and a Marks & Spencer Simply Food shop, which was handy and I did a mini shop.

So more and more High St. names are getting in on the act, or are being mimicked by the operators. For instance, Ritazza is a motorway/airport/ train station only coffee shop in the UK, and was owned until June 2006 by Compass Group, the world's largest food services company with a turnover of £11 billion.

They've all now been sold to spin-off Select Service Partner, which also owns Upper Crust, Millie's Cookies and the franschise to run M&S Simply Food in travel sites in the UK. So basically, stop there and your money's theirs.

Strangely, the place that looked most out-of-date and tired was the Burger King. At another services on the M1 a few weeks ago, I noticed that there was a large queue for KFC, but no-one at the Burger King opposite, probably in a mistaken belief that their chicken is healthier.

What's most interesting about motorway service areas is all the things they have to do as laid down by law. Apparently they have to stay open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week (inc. Christmas Day), provide free toilets and parking, and fuel. And 50% of their profits are taken as tax by the Government. No wonder a cheese and ham toastie is £3.85.

Magners mania

Pint bottles scattered on beer garden tables! Pubs running out of ice!! Chuffing adverts on TV and every bus shelter in the land!!!

Yes, everywhere you look, people are necking pints of this summer's scrumptastic drink of choice, Magner's Cider.

Here's five top things about the yuppie tramp juice from this article on BBC Online.

1. Magners is apparently known as Bulmers in Ireland, which is, strangely, an old name already well-known in England. Calling it that would probably mean they couldn't give the stuff away.

2. Serving it with ice is 'its USP', like putting lime in a bottle of Corona. But the reason for this is purely from the days when pubs in Ireland didn't have fridges and it was just the only way of making the stuff cold.

3. It really is a pint bottle, despite all the late night arguments I've heard about it being bigger/smaller. A pint is 568ml. Check your milk.

4. The traditional Oirish advert, all CGI orchards and fishing boats bobbing around in an emerald-sea'd harbour, was actually shot in New Zealand. Beauty.

5. While it's true to say it's definitely the 'drink du summer'- thanks in part to the blazing hot spell earlier in the year- it's also true that no-one will be seen dead drinking it this time next year.

Review: Nacho Libre

Jack Black is back, in the film I've been waiting to see this summer more than any other. After the flaming ginger quirk-fest that was 'Napoleon Dynamite', the idea of Jared Hess directing JB as a Mexican luchador sounds like a guaranteed slice of fried box office gold.

And on many levels, Nacho Libre doesn't disappoint. Hess's flat direction leaves lots of pauses for Jack Black's face to fill, whether it's seducing the new nun at the orphanage or about to get low-kicked in the wrestling ring by a couple of feral werewolf midgets twins.

What falls short - at least on first viewing - is the sense of place that Hess gave to Napoleon Dynamite's high school world. Although set in Mexico, there's hardly any actual Mexicans in the film, apart from fulfilling a few cliche roles like troop of wandering mariachis. It goes no further than the same 'ay ay ay' view of Mexico as Bumblebee Man from 'The Simpsons'.

Jack Black's accent can be quote offputting, which wanders through Mexican, Spanish, English and even a sort of 'mama mia' Italian at several points. I'm sure this is intentional, but does snap you out of the mood of the film when he breaks from his friar character into his snarling 'School of Rock' face and voice now and then.

But really - what's not to love about Jack Black in stretchy pants? He really does take to the role, and the limited supporting cast do too. The wrestling scenes are great fun and much more full-on that you might expect. And while Jess's direction could leave you not connected with the characters, there's real warmth in the ending.

Jack's next up in the Tenacious D movie - rock on.

Kermode on FiveLive

Still continuing to enjoy (the good Dr.) Mark Kermode's weekly movie review podcast from BBC Radio FiveLive.

One of the few reviewers I regularly agree with, particularly about just how long, tedious and overblown Pirates of the Caribbean II was and, oh, the death of narrative cinema as we know it.

Find it via iTunes or here.

Diana Monday!

If it's Monday, it means there's an exclusive Princess Diana revelation in the Daily Express!

Yes, after her untimely death a mere 9 years ago, she is still making the front cover of the poor man's Daily Mail routunely. The editor, Peter Hill, even freely admits Diana is slapped on the cover because pictures of her still sell papers and Monday is a quiet news day.

Back in May, The Guardian even useful compiled a list of the Express's Diana headlines since the start of 2006. It's long.

See how many you can spot, kids.

George Bush: T.W.A.T

George Bush and his patented The War Against Terror (or T.W.A.T. for short) took another blow yesterday when a federal court ruled- unsurprisingly- that tapping people's phones and recording their conversations without a warrant was against their human rights.

The administation press secretary Tony Snow- looking more and more like the janitor from Scrubs- apparently said the White House "couldn't disagree more with the ruling". I know who I believe.Bush's approval rating is continuing to drop- even this poll combines those who say he's doing a 'fair' job and those who think he's doing a 'poor' one-. Last time I checked, a fair job is a positive thing.

Fopp

Paid my second visit to Bristol's newest Fopp on Whiteladies Road, the magic music, DVD and book peddler.

Ever since I first wandered into a tiny record shop called Fopp in Leamington Spa years ago, I've been hypnotised (and made not a little poorer) by their great prices, canny choice and obvious love of music and other stuff.

It was pretty empty for a Saturday, which is good as you can take your time browsing to come up with that 50 quid stack of CDs everyone seems to carry round. This one also has a cafe, which again is good and reasonably priced, doing coffee, toasties and cake (click image to see the menu).

Apparently, they're now the fourth largest record retailer in the country. They see to get it right so easily, which begs the question- what it is it that HMV, which is struggling, could get so wrong? Don't know, just know that they do. Typically, I'm sure their (or someone's else's) way out of the hole will be to try and buy Fopp before too long, and ruin what everybody likes about them along the way.

Unless of course, it happens the other way round- which judging by their new flagship branch on Tottenham Court Road in London that I visited the other week- it could well do.

Tesco land grab

Seems like Tesco, the supermarket that apparently takes around £1 in every 9 that Britons spend through its tillls, is too greedy even for its own good.

The BBC reports that one store near Stockport in Manchester hasn't actually got planning permission, as it's 20% bigger than the one on the plans they submitted.

Not to let that stop them, it's been up and running since 2004 and reportedly raking in over £1m a week. They're now applying for proper planning permission- easy mistake to make I suppose, probably not got many people on this side of the business, bless.

More ammunition for campaigners over at Tescopoly...

Review: Miami Vice

Even though I'm a child of the 80's , I never really caught the original TV series of 'Miami Vice', so all I know about is all the usual references about neon, rolled up jacket sleeves and slip-on white Espadrilles.

But that fashion disaster is nothing compared with Michael Mann's latest, in which he finally gets to over-indulge his career-long fetish for blue lighting, sunsets and beachfront homes.

Jamie Foxxoxxoxx and Colin Feral play Crockett and Tubbs, going deep undercover (man) to bust a Columbian drug baron or something.

There's just so. Much. Male posturing. Foxxoxxooxx and Feral look less like partners, and more like semi-finalists facing each other off in the town brooding contest. They barely speak to each other, or anyone else - in fact, the whole script must have looked like an itemised supermarket till reciept.

And Colin, Colin, Colin... when he wasn't stroking his hillbilly 'tash/goatee non-combo, or trying out a new Trans-Atlantic-American-Southern-Irish accent, he was dancing- which drew more than a few giggles from people in the cinema. Foxx at least carries his part, and his love scene, with some credibility.

And this is very much a male film, in the worst sense. The two main women characters - one Foxx's professional and personal partner, and Feral's Asian drug baron squeeze - are there purely to get in the way and put our besuited male leads in harm's way.

There are some great open cinematic shots- of both personal jets and powerboats in flight- but the hazy night-time city feel that worked so well for 'Collateral' just becomes like permanent insomnia here. Almost everything seems to take place at night, spot lit by arc lights, in the same way Bruckenheimer/Bay action pics seem stuck on permanent sunset.

Miami Vice is unashamedly all about the visuals, and obviously a pet project for Michael Mann- let's just hope he's got it out of his system and gets back to making movies with stories.

Great Scott!

Walking along in Bristol , you see lots of cars. Old hippy vans, flash city motors, and lots with wing mirrors hanging off.

But it's not everyday you actually see Marty McFly, or at least a bloke with a Back to the Future-style DeLorean and waaay to much time on his hands. Hats off though, it looks good- particularly loving the Mr. Fusion chute at the back.

It was stuck in roadworks, but couldn't see if Einstein was in the back and definitely not doing 88mph.

BA cancels all flights

Crazy fool!

blogging tool #1

My first tool for keeping this blog fresh will be this: the Nokia 6280 camera phone.

I'll be snapping pics as i go and uploading them here.

Size wise, it's somewhere between a packet of three condoms and a packet of twenty cigarettes- fitting as it's damn good fun but probably quite likely to kill you eventually.

This will be my fourth -yes, 4th - 6280 in a month, after sending back the others with dust in the screen, loose slide and wonky camera function- wish me luck with this one...!