I saw the The Truth About Charlie on the weekend. It's been getting practically universally bad reviews but I went to see it anyway since it looked really good stylistically (and I love Paris). It turns out the critics were right, but while the film was a definite failure I found it an enjoyable failure. If all bad films were bad like this film then the world wouldn't be such a bad place. I especially liked the bizarre Something About Mary-esque cameos with Charles Aznavour (no, really). Best of all though was the uncharacteristically buff Tim Robbins playing a macho, if slightly unhinged, government operative. He made me wonder aloud why Thandie Newton was wasting her time with Mark Wahlberg.
After Marky-Mark's curiously charisma-free performance in Charlie it was refreshing to watch the Merchant-Ivory flick Remains of the Day last night on TV. It takes a really good film to make you realise how painfully average most actors and scripts are today. It's hard enough to deliver lines and make it sound like it natural conversation but when an actor can master unique mannerisms and unspoken glances as well, then you're talking good acting. It's the same feeling I get when hearing a poem read well or watching a really good adaptation of Shakespeare (Titus, another Anthony Hopkins film, immediately comes to mind). If it's done right you don't notice the strict structure of the verse. Professionals make it look easy.
That being said, I had a strange pop culture overload while watching Remains of the Day. At one point in the film Stevens, the emotionally repressed butler played by Hopkins, has an uncomfortable conversation with a stranger helping him fill his car with petrol on the side of a deserted highway. It must've been all those Hannibal Lecter films but I half expected Hopkins to bash the guy over the head with the petrol can and eviscerate him right there on the side of the road. I don't think I'm spoiling too much by saying he didn't. He is a gentleman, after all.

A correction of sorts. Apparently that story of the Buzzcocks telling off the Bush administration and then getting booed never happened. It was not the Buzzcocks who made those statements but Blink-182! (Blame it on sloppy journalism and musical ignorance, I guess) However, the crowd still booed so I'm still disappointed in the youth of America, regardless of who made the comments. Now I just have to track down all the people I told the story to and correct them before this ends up on Snopes.com...

Separated at birth? Josh Hartnett and Roy from Coronation Street?

Suede - "Electricity"
Make no mistake, Head Music is a bad, bad album. It has a few moments that shine but for the most part it's a horrible descent into self-parody and unlistenability. But I like "Electricity". It's… I don't want to use the word "great" because I use it too much and what does it really mean anyway. So instead I'll say "solid". It's a good, solid song. Not quite earthshattering and certainly not groundbreaking (I mean, it is Suede afterall). But I like it anyway. It's got a kind of energy about it. No pun intended. I really couldn't find another word that was as suitable. Honest.

"Sooner or later you're gonna listen to Ralph Nader..." "Punk fans" boo the Buzzcocks for telling Dubya to fuck off. I'm not surprised, but that doesn't make me any less sad.

They've had their fun. Now comes the hard part: "Believe it or not, the Strokes are already yesterday's news." Ouch!! My friend Sarah saw The Strokes (with Sloan opening) in Portland, Maine last week. She says they played -- count 'em -- three new songs! Which must bring their catalogue up to a grand total of about…oh, 16? Oh, and apparently Julian's face has cleared up somewhat.

I've become a bit of a coach potato in recent weeks with the launch of the new TV season, which is weird since there are only about two shows that I genuinely think are any good. I used to find the West Wing insufferably self-righteous (which it still is) but at least it's intelligent and takes my mind off the real US president for an hour. And after last week's genius episode featuring the burnt-out hospital lawyers singing TV themes a capella (and the just generally fucked up Dr. Cox) I am now championing Scrubs as the best thing on TV, period. The rest of the stuff I watch I freely admit is cheese (CSI and Smallville) or not nearly as good as they used to be (Law & Order, ER and the frighteningly unfunny Friends). For this reason Television Without Pity, with its dead-on hilarious recaps, is rocking my world lately. The ER recaps are especially inspired. From the season premiere, featuring the unforgettable scene of a helicopter slicing off Dr. Romano's arm:

'Blood splatters both the nurse and Monty. Luka and Susan look up, and their eyes widen as they run toward the scene of contrived plot point revolving around a man whose name, if you remove the "arm," spells simply, "Noo!" We go to commercial wondering if next week Luka's going to lose a leg in a tragic can-can accident involving an axe-swinging lumberjack.'

And as my last TV-related tidbit of the day I recommend you download, "Movin' On Up", the theme song to The Jeffersons. It's really gooooood.

OK, forgive these random blatherings but I can't be arsed to put them into some kind of cohesive order. Yes, I've been lazy. But hey, I got a job! So wheeooo for me.
I had a great time at the Halifax Pop Explosion on the weekend. At first glance I was disappointed at the lineup because I didn't recognise a lot of the bands but I had a great time discovering new acts and chatting with people. My favourite two discoveries of the weekend are Paper Moon and Telepathic Butterflies. Both play the kind of indiepop you'd expect me to like. *smirk* Oh, and special mention must go to RockFour, who came all the way from Tel Aviv to rock Hell's Kitchen while Cat Power put everyone to sleep upstairs at the Marquee.