Looking East-er

After getting back from the Pays Noir fairly late on Saturday, I decided to take advantage of the extra hour granted by the clock change to go running along the Thames Path. This time, though, I went east, following the river as it loops around Rotherhithe, before looping back via Surrey Quays and Southwark Park. I'm still getting used to the terrain and the best routes, so it took me a little longer than normal. Slightly annoyingly, if you want to run directly alongside the river, you have to keep cutting back onto the road, what with all the docks and private residence.

Autumnal Canary Wharf panorama

It was quiet and pleasant, though, and I'll definitely consider a similar route on those weekend mornings when I just can't face the hoards of tourists that descend to the stretch of the Thames Path that runs between Tower Bridge and Westminster Bridge.

Escher or Ariadne from Inception seem to have been messing with the waterfront opposite Canary Wharf

While getting my bearings, I snapped a few photos of Canary Wharf, including the one just above, where the panorama mode over-emphasises the curve of the river, which is much less pronounced here in real life. I've said this before, but I do love London in the autumn. And by autumn, I mean crisp, sunny days, where you can crunch through the fallen leaves--not the cold, grey, drizzly weather that we have got on about 27 days so far this month.

Out of Darknesss

Regular readers will be aware that I have a tragic genetic condition: the chronic, if low-level, affliction of supporting a consistently disappointing football team, Wolverhampton Wanderers. My family are from the Black Country and although for some time, there was a Wolves–Walsall divide among us, we are now all Wolves supporters, in name, at least. We used to go to matches quite often but I haven't been for a few years. Last year, though — the last season in the team's latest run in the top flight — my parents had season tickets and so we all went along to watch them play Charlton today. We even got the same seats they had last year, although as they were right at the back near the goal line, this probably wasn't too difficult.

One girl, two shirts; our stand, the Billy Wright stand

After a morning visiting various grandparents, we had lunch at Beatties, the local department store whose cafe is decorated in Old Gold and black, the team colours. I had some mediocre fish and chips and then it was match time. I don't like wearing old gold, orange or yellow, but had been parent-pressured into wearing a spare home shirt of my mum's. Luckily, there were plenty of retail opportunities at the Wolves Megastore, where I managed to acquire an away shirt in a more flattering shade of teal.

Clockwise from top left: quality meerkat merchandise in the Megastore,
match-day programme, Wolves pie, fun & games in the programme

As for the match, well, it was pretty standard Wolves fare. We were doing well, scored early, dominated the first half, and then fell apart in the second half, letting in a goal, and failing to take advantage of a number of shots on target. Charlton were playing dirty: they made 12 fouls compared to our five. I was slightly disappointed that the stands were relatively empty—the gate was about 22,000 out of a 36,000 capacity, but since the relegation from the Premier League, attendance has dropped considerably. We were next to the rowdy South Bank, behind the goal, and I was hoping for some good songs or chants from them but morale seemed pretty low; no one really seems to care what happens now that we are only in the Championship. There wasn't much cheering and there was a mass exodus from around the 85-minute mark.

Goal! (Yes, ours: Sako, 12 mn)

It was a fun day, anyway, although very chilly in the stadium, and maybe the experience will encourage me to pay a bit more attention to my team's performance this season. And now that I'm a south Londoner, maybe it was for the best that we didn't win, given that I was still wearing my Wolves shirt when I got off the bus in SE16 this evening.

South by South East

It was inevitable that the weekend before I moved house was glorious and sunny while moving weekend ended up being mostly rainy. Nonetheless, I am now officially a home-owner and resident of South of the River (SOTR), and I am successfully installed in my new humble abode. I picked up the keys on Friday afternoon, but only had a few hours in the flat to check a few things before I had to head to Leicester Square for the Seven Psychopaths screening. It didn't help that it was pouring with rain when we arrived and seeing the empty flat, I had a first flash of doubt: have I done the right thing?

Home sweet home. The wallpaper isn't staying...

When the movers offered me an 8 am slot on Saturday, all I could think of was the 6.30 am alarm, but it actually worked out quite well. There was hardly any traffic and the movers were able to load everything up in NoMaRo, drive to SOTR and then unload. By 11 am, then, they had gone and I was left with a flat full of boxes and bags to unpack. Fortunately, the Bro and the SIL were there for moral support. I unpacked a little bit and then we went to meet the Bridge Buddies for lunch at Borough Market. I thought it was important to reassure myself that I am in a good location, close to lots of interesting places like Borough and the lovely Bermondsey Street, which is the new Marylebone High Street for me. After a pulled pork bap from Hobbs at Borough Market, a crème caramel, and a celebratory G and T at one of the riverside pubs, I went home to do some more unpacking.

Fun at Borough: pulled pork, crème caramels and my new landmark, the Shard

The Bridge Buddies, the Bro and I then went to a pub in Rotherhithe for dinner, while the SIL worked her last shift there. The rain didn't stop and it was a soggy journey home, but I was enamoured with the London "skyline" views from the river near Rotherhithe by night. This morning it was a little drier, so I went for a run along what will probably be my new standard weekend route: up to Tower Bridge, across to the North Bank and then along the Thames Path to Westminster Bridge, and then back again. I finally had an opportunity to use my iPhone's new panorama mode. It's just a shame the Thames wasn't looking its finest.

Thames panorama from Tower Bridge on a grey, autumnal Sunday

Overall, then, I'm really glad to have moved and reassured by the fact that there are a lot of new restaurants, espresso bars and shops in the vicinity for me to check out. I just need to get better at calculating SOTR walking distances. Oh, and sleep. I need that too. Most of this year has been taking up with the moving project and although there is still more work to do and more things to sort, I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

LFF 2012 Part III: Seven Psychopaths

When writing the screenplay for his latest movie, Martin "In Bruges" McDonagh had the title, Seven Psychopaths, but only one psychopath and a desire to make a film about love and peace. In the film, struggling screenwriter and functional alcoholic Marty (played by Colin Farrell) is also struggling with his screenplay for a film called Seven Psychopaths, having found only one psychopath and wanting to make a film about love and peace. Yes, it's that kind of film, but not in the aggressively pointed way Michael Haneke does it, but in a darkly comic and often self-mocking way that is very appealing. The end product--McDonagh's, that is, rather than Marty's--is a very funny, but frequently gruesome look into Los Angeles's psychopathic underworld.

Producer Graham Broadbent & writer-director Martin McDonagh at Seven Psychopaths

I went to see a screening of Seven Psychopaths at the London Film Festival this evening, which I almost missed due a very busy day, as I started the moving process. McDonagh and one of the producers--I think it was Graham Broadbent, but I couldn't hear LFF director Clare Stewart very well because the applause for McDonagh was so great--showed up for a Q&A after the movie. One audience member asked why Seven Psychopaths had come out so much later than In Bruges, given that McDonagh wrote the screenplays at around the same time. He said that his then lack of experience, plus the complicated plot of Seven Psychopaths, with its flashbacks, dreams, fantasies and layers of character arcs, made In Bruges an easy sell.

And Seven Psychopaths is pretty complex. The opening scene with cameos by Michael Pitt and Michael Stuhlbarg is funny, sharp and surprising. We then switch to Marty trying to come up with convincing psychopaths for his movie, although art seems to often mimic life. One of his seven borrows heavily from the "real life" serial killer who is terrorising LA in this movie world, shooting people and leaving behind a jack of diamonds. Meanwhile, Marty gets involved with some trouble his friends Billy (Sam Rockwell) and Hans (Christopher Walken) are having with their dog-napping "business." The idea is that they kidnap rich people's dogs and then return them to collect the reward money. But when they take a particularly cute Shih Tzu, who turns out to belong to Charlie, a blood-thirsty gangster who will do anything to get his canine back, they may be in over their heads. Or maybe they have as yet unrevealed hidden sides and pasts of their own...

The screenplay-within-a-screenplay gets a little self-referential at times, and some may find this annoying, but I quite liked it. I liked the fact that Marty's friends tell him a major issue of his screenplay is the fact that there are no decent or well-developed female characters, which is, of course, true of McDonagh's screenplay to that point. Marty's girlfriend Kaya (Abbie Cornish) appears only briefly, looks hot, gets angry and the next thing we know, she's dumped him. An audience member asked McDonagh if he plans to make any films with strong female characters, to which he said he had one with a 55-year-old woman in the pipeline, so we will see.

McDonagh's movie is a fun and clever romp. It wouldn't work nearly as well were it not for the great performances by Walken and Harrelson; Rockwell's Billy was entertaining and Farrell was also fine, although his character seemed similar to a number of other previous Farrell characters. The sharp, funny dialogue and snappy one-liners crackle with energy, even when the meta is pushed to the max. The movie references abound--Billy's surname is Bickle, for example, and of course he talks to the mirror at one point. Seven Psychopaths isn't for the faint-hearted: there is plenty of gore and graphic violence, but if you can stomach a bit of a blood, you are in for a great ride, with plenty of dark humour and a strong cast.

Good, Batter, Best: The Sea Shell Review

After living in NoMaRo for over three years, I have only made it to The Sea Shell of Lisson Grove once before and then only for a take-away, so it seems fitting to have eaten there on my penultimate night north of the river. To be fair, it was closed for renovations after a fire in 2009 for the first few months. The Sea Shell often appears on lists of the best fish and chips in London, but it is also pretty pricey--about £10 for cod and chips to take away--which seemed like too much for those nights when I was home alone but too lazy to cook.

The Sea Shell of Lisson Grove

Maman came in to London to help me pack up my flat last night so I treated her to dinner at The Sea Shell. We went to the restaurant, rather than the take-away bar, which has a few perching seats. It was very busy for an autumnal Thursday evening, with a mix of customers, from young families, to American businessmen, to, well, the likes of us. The cheerful décor, with brightly coloured painting and happy, unassuming tropical fish swimming in tanks, wasn't what I was expecting from the quiet, slightly dingy side street location. It isn't high end, by any means, but it's definitely very pleasant.

Your plaice or mine? (Actually, it's cod.)

As I mentioned before, The Sea Shell isn't cheap. My cod and chips was £14.95--mushy peas were £3 extra--and Maman's fish pie was £14.50. However, the food was very good. I'm not much of a connoisseur of fish, but my cod was really tasty. Chips, apparently, are "free" so you can have as many refills as you want. The small portion was plenty for me given the size of my fish and given that the chips were pretty average. Maman really liked her fish pie, which included cod, salmon, prawns, and veg, and was topped with cheesy mash; if she made lists, it might even have entered her top-three fish pies of all time. The staff were friendly and had good banter, and didn't rush us, even though they were busy. Our two main courses, the peas and a couple of drinks came to £45, including service, but for a good meal with generous portions in a nice little restaurant in zone one, that isn't too bad.

The Sea Shell of Lisson Grove. 49-51 Lisson Grove, London, NW1 6UH (Tube: Marylebone). Website.

The Burger Bulletin: Honest Burgers

I've had Honest Burgers in my sights for a while but I rarely go to Brixton, so I was happy to hear that they recently opened a branch in Soho, on Meard Street, an unassuming alley (the one that bears this sign) off Dean Street. Perfect for a quick dinner before the movie last night then. The Soho branch is fairly small, with only a handful of tables inside, and a few more under the awning outside--with heating.

Honest Burgers' new Soho branch

When I arrived just before six last night, it was just starting to get busy, but I secured a table and got to work on the menu. This didn't take long. You can have a chicken burger, a beef burger or some sort of veggie fritter concoction. You can also have cheese and/or bacon. I went for a cheese burger, which came with red onion relish and, included in the £8 price tag, a portion of house chips with rosemary salt. While I was waiting I sipped on a homemade lemonade, which was pretty good, although needed a good stir.

Cheese burger with cheddar, onion relish and rosemary salt fries

The burger itself came to my medium-rare specifications--it was really pink inside and very juicy. The relish was good too, although did detract a little from the flavour of the cheddar. The chips were also nice--perhaps a dash too salty, although the rosemary added a nice kick. The more observant of you will notice that there is no fork in the photo above. I thought it was a mistake and was about to ask for one, but I realised that no one else had a fork. It's one of those places where you're supposed to eat with your hands. This is fine for a burger and fries--although it did mean I had to eat the top half of my bun, which I normally leave--but less good when you're trying to eat the shredded lettuce you asked to have on the side.

Honest Burgers: the restau, the burger, the bill, the menu and the lemonade

Manners aside, Honest Burgers is great. The service was efficient, the staff were friendly and the burger was excellent. £8 for a quality cheese burger and fries in Soho is a very good deal, especially as there is no "optional" 12.5% service charge. If you're in the area and in need of something fast, cheap and meaty (ah hem), look no further than Honest Burger. At the very least, you won't have to queue for an hour or two, like you would at Burger & Lobster if the crowds outside there tonight are anything to go by.

Honest Burgers. 4a Meard Street, London, W1F 0EF (Tube: Leicester Square). Website. Twitter.

LFF 2012 Part II: Argo

There weren't many appealing options in the "big gala" section of the London Film Festival this year. For the past few years I've been excited to see George Clooney, Andrew Garfield and, especially, Clive Owen, but this year, I had to make do with Ben Affleck. Back in the 1990s, I was definitely on Team Ben, but more recently I've shifted over to Team Matt, especially after he smiled at me that one time.

Clare Stewart, Ben Affleck, John Goodman & Bryan Cranston at the Argo premiere

Anyway, the gala in question was the UK premiere of Argo, directed by and starring Affleck, and with Alan Arkin, John Goodman and Bryan Cranston, to name just a few, filling out the impressive cast list. The film, which tells a recently declassified true story about a madcap, last-ditch attempt by a CIA agent to rescue six US diplomats from the Canadian embassy in Iran during the 1979 Iranian Revolution. Sounds pretty heavy-going and the film has its serious moments, but the plan in question involved the agent, Tony Mendez (Affleck) pretending to be the producer of a Canadian science fantasy film scouting for locations in Tehran. He would then sneak out the diplomats as members of his crew. "Is that the best bad idea you've got?" his boss, Jack O'Donnell (Cranston) asks. Unfortunately, it is.

To be a convincing fake movie, however, you need a script, someone who knows Hollywood--producer Lester Siegel, played by an excellent Alan Arkin--and, given that this a science fantasy movie, a prosthetics expert, who comes in the form of the Oscar winning make-up artist John Chambers (John Goodman). It turns out making a fake movie is harder than any of them thought, but as Siegel puts it, "if I'm making a fake movie, I want to make a hit." Cue a series of jokes at the expense of Hollywood.

And that's why Argo works. Because although at times you wonder if you should be laughing at Siegel's sharp one-liners and Chambers's quips and the banter between the two--the chemistry between Arkin and Goodman is superb--given that these scenes are interspersed with tense moments back at the Canadian embassy, where the hostages (played by actors as varied as Clea DuVall and Jimmy Cooper from The O.C.) are terrified that they will never get out alive and that Mendez's crazy plan is the fastest way to get them all killed. Especially as not everyone in the agency seems fully supportive of the idea, and especially when the ruling government in Iran are recruiting children to slowly piece back together the shredded documents from the captured US embassy, revealing the identities of the six diplomats who went "missing."

Argo is part historical thriller, part tongue-in-cheek take on the ridiculousness of Hollywood, but not very much of a political drama. At the beginning of the film, a narrator tells us the background to the hostage situation, which is lucky because I suspect most people in the audience (including me) knew very little about it, but the politics really just provides the means for the plot. It comes down with an American slant, of course, but it doesn't seem to be making any deeper or more meaningful points. It's just an amazing story. ***SPOILER ALERT Although I thought it was highly unlikely if this film would have been made at this time if Mendez's plot hadn't been a success, I was still on the edge of my seat for most of the final act. There was applause at the screening tonight not just for Affleck and the rest of the cast at the end, but when it becomes clear that the hostages are going to be OK.***

L: red carpet; C: Bryan Cranston with the paparazzi; R: Clare Stewart & Ben Affleck

Tonight, Ben Affleck showed up to the premiere, along with John Goodman and Bryan Cranston. Goodman claimed he signed up to the project because he wanted to meet Matt Damon--Affleck then said that he would, which I sort of hoped meant Damon might make a cameo appearance tonight, but sadly not. There wasn't a proper Q&A; Affleck just talked about how amazing it was to be on stage presenting his film to the London Film Festival, and how it's easier to make a recent historical film than one set 200 years ago because you can still go and talk to the people who lived through it. Well, yes. Anyway, I really liked Argo, and I kind of wish that the fake Argo ended up getting made--as a trashy B movie, of course--especially if they use Arkin's character's tagline, "Argo f*ck off."

The Caffeine Chronicles: Sourced Market Review

When I celebrated the arrival of good coffee in the King's Cross area, in the form of the Brewhouse on York, a reader suggested I check out Sourced Market in St Pancras station. Sourced is a little bit like being in the Ferry Building in San Francisco, but on a much smaller scale. They sell a whole range of food products--mostly locally sourced and/or organic--from artisanal breads, to fruit and veg, and posh ready-meals. On their website, they say: "At St Pancras we take all the great attributes of farmers’ markets into the beating heart of the city."

The coffee section of Sourced at St Pancras

I wouldn't go that far but they do sell some really nice food, and you can also eat in, perching at one of the communal tables. Well, it beats the usual train station Pret, doesn't it? I've picked up snacks, like these yummy Salted Peanut Caramel Crackers from the Grown Up Chocolate Company, but I don't think I've tried the coffee before. Although they serve Monmouth Coffee, I wasn't convinced their macchiato was going to be outstanding. Today, I was in need of further caffeination and so I gave them a shot. Or rather, they gave me a double-shot.

Double mac: appearances can be deceiving

My macchiato was served in a cup that was too large and although there was a good crema, it didn't look too impressive. Wot, no latte art?! Actually, though, it was pretty good. Not best-in-the-city good, but definitely good for the King's Cross area, and much better than any other coffee you can buy in St Pancras. The coffee was rich and flavoursome and there was about the right amount of milk and foam--slightly more than I prefer, but I like a fairly dry macchiato.

Of course, with Brewhouse on York just outside King's Cross and Caravan just up the street-food market boulevard, not to mention the Aeropress in my office, I probably won't be stopping by too often, but it's good to know Sourced's coffee is good. You can never have too many purveyors of fine coffee, especially in N1.

Sourced Market St Pancras station (it's on the ground floor, opposite the ticket office). Tube: King's Cross-St Pancras. Website.

My Marylebone Favourites

This has been my final weekend as a Marylebone resident, after four fun years in the quartier. I'm moving somewhere a little edgier and a little less salubrious--namely Bermondsey--next week, so I thought I'd put together a list of my local favourites. Most of these recommendations are for places that are SoMaRo (south of the Marylebone Road, but I tried to include a few NoMaRo selections too, as that is where I currently live.

Food and drink

• Favourite burger: Meat Liquour (74 Welbeck Street), although Tommi's Burger Joint (58 Marylebone Lane) definitely wins on price, take-away facilities, lack of queue and laid-back but hip attitude.
• Favourite other restaurant: Le Relais de Venise (120 Marylebone Lane) if I'm in the mood for an immaculate steak-frites (and a queue); Becci (32 Paddington Street) for a lovely, intimate, family-run Italian.
• Favourite greasy spoon: Gino's (18 Great Central Street), just opposite Marylebone Station, has been providing me with a bacon sandwich on days when only a bacon sarnie will do. Gino and his family are lovely and friendly, and they always do my bacon extra-crispy, just how I like it.
• Favourite independent coffee shop: The Borough Barista (60A Seymour Street) is my closest indie coffee bar. The coffee is good and it's a nice place to hang out, but Workshop Coffee (75 Wigmore Street) does a far superior macchiato.
• Favourite pub: The Duke of Wellington (94A Crawford Street). The drinks list is great, the atmosphere is great and their food is top notch. If they're full, I usually try The Temperance (74-76 York Street), which is one block north.
• Favourite bar: Purl (50-54 Blandford Street). I believe this is Marylebone's only hip, prohibition-style cocktail bar. The menu is exotic and the drinks are expertly blended.
• Favourite wine shop: Spirited Wines (35 Melcombe Street). This used to be a Nicolas, but has since been taken over by another chain. The staff are the same, though, and they're friendly and helpful.

L: The Borough Barista. R: Mr Hyde's No 2 at Purl (top); Meat Liquor (bottom)

Shopping and lifestyle

• Favourite bookshop: Daunt Books (83 Marylebone High Street). They have a particularly good travel section, where you can find fiction relevant to the place to which you are travelling. Their selection of non-travel books is great too, though, and it's a lovely place to browse.
• Favourite other shop: KJ's Laundry (74 Marylebone Lane). Admittedly, I don't buy much from here because it's quite pricey, but their perfectly curated selection of chic clothes and accessories is often worth a browse, especially when there is a sale on. Gwyneth and Keira both love it, apparently, although that may not be a selling point.
• Favourite cinema: Admittedly, it doesn't take a lot to be a better cinema than the Marble Arch Odeon, but the Everyman Baker Street (96-98 Baker Street) wins this category. I like the witty remarks they put on the sign, the seats are comfy, the snacks are good and it's just an all-round pleasant place to watch a movie.
• Favourite nail bar: California Nail Bar (20 Melcombe Street). The Nail Station (82 York Street) is more luxurious, but you can't beat the California Nail Bar for its US-nail-bar-style efficiency. Although the prices have crept up over the years, £13 for a manicure in Marylebone is a steal.
• Favourite interesting street: Marylebone High Street is the obvious answer, but I really like the southernmost block of Seymour Place. As well as the Borough Barista, you can find a branch of Vinoteca (no 15), Donostia (no 10; a new Basque restaurant), and Buy My Wardrobe (no 17; a consignment store where you can buy from a well-curated selection of high-end clothes and accessories). It's also home to Homemade London (no 21), where you can partake in some very stylish crafting.
• Favourite park: Hyde Park for running (if I'm allowed to count it as Marylebone); Regent's Park for chilling.
• Favourite florist: Titania's Garden (25b Crawford Street). This is on my way home from the city centre and their beautfiul plant and flower displays always tempt me as I walk past.
• Favourite dry cleaner: Chic Dry Cleaners (33 Melcombe Street). I'm too lazy and cheap to buy many clothes that require dry cleaning but this is Papa's dry cleaner of choice, hence I've spent a lot of time here. The staff are friendly and the service is efficient and reliable.

Top: Titania's Garden; the Everyman Baker Street. Bottom: The bottom of Seymour Place; a limited edition Daunt tote

LFF 2012 Part I: Rust and Bone

The 2012 BFI London Film Festival kicked off a few days ago but my first event was tonight. And what better way to kick it off than with the premiere of De rouille et d'os (Rust and Bone), Jacques "A Prophet" Audiard's new movie?

I've been pretty busy over the past few weeks so I hadn't had much time to read about the actors and directors whose films I would be seeing so that I had a good question to pose during the Q&A sessions, nor to work on my red carpet strategy. Much as I love the LFF, I do hate having to be in Leicester Square at the weekend or in the evening, and tonight it was pretty hellish, with some apparently dyslexic zombies mistaking 13 October for Halloween. Fancy dress aside, I was surprised that Leicester Square seemed less dominated than in previous years by the film festival. There are usually lots of LFF hoardings but I only spotted one on the Odeon West End, where Rust and Bone was showing. This could be due to the Leicester Square renovation project finally being finished or to the fact that new festival director Clare Stewart wanted a festival that is temporally more compact, while being geographically more extensive.

Fun, glamour and Marion Cotillard on the red carpet at the London premiere of Rust and Bone

In any case, I arrived at the cinema at that sweet spot of about 10-15 minutes before the film's posted start time, when the biggest star of the night is likely to be pounding the red carpet. Indeed, Marion Cotillard was there looking gorgeous and sporting a lovely black dress, not dissimilar to the one I was wearing, although mine came from TopShop and probably cost about 100 times less than hers. I hovered for a bit, snapping a few photos; annoyingly, on the rare occasions she turned in my direction, I couldn't seem to get her in focus. Once she'd gone inside, I went to take my seat. Before the film started, Cotillard was joined on stage by her co-star Matthias Schoenaerts, as well as Audiard, his translator and Clare Stewart. There was a bit of gallic banter and a miscommunication of stage directions meant that Audiard nearly knocked Cotillard off the stage (particularly unfortunate given that her character in the film has a serious accident).

I didn't know much about the movie, which was probably a good thing. It was at the Cannes Film Festival this year, where it was nominated for the Palme d'Or, although we missed the red carpet. Nice Matin, the local rag, was particularly excited because it was set in the local area. Most of it is supposed to be Antibes, but the beach scenes were definitely in Cannes and I spotted a few glimpses of the Croisette too. Rust and Bone portrays an entirely different side of the Côte d'Azur. Some spoilers may follow, although as usual I try not to give too much away.

Ali (Schoenaerts) runs away from Belgium with his young son Sam (Armand Verdure) to the South of France, where they can bunk with his older sister Anna (Corinne Masiero) and her husband Foued (Mourad  Frarema). Ali isn't the greatest father, but he does at least seem to be slightly more competent than Sam's never seen mother. While working as a security guard, Ali meets Stéphanie (Cotillard). The first we see of her is a languorous shot of Cotillard's lovely long legs in a nightclub queue. I believe this is what they call foreshadowing. Stéphanie has been knocked over and is bleeding so Ali insists on driving her home, where he meets her boyfriend Simon. Stéphanie, it turns out, works as a whale trainer at the nearby Marine Land. This surprises Ali who, based on her dress, tells her he thought she was a prostitute.

They both think they'll never see each other again, but then Stéphanie gets into a horrific accident and is struggling to adapt to her new life. Ali isn't exactly thoughtful, but his blunt, can-do attitude encourages her to venture back out into the real world, to move on and to try new things. A tentative friendship--with benefits, later--develops between them. Maybe Ali is growing as a person. Or maybe he's still a douchebag, because he is still a pretty irresponsible father and he still lets his sister down. He also lets Stéphanie down, as she begins to realise that Ali doesn't care about her as much as she thought--and as much as she wanted. He also gets recruited into a little underground fight club, where he gets paid big money to beat the living daylights out of other guys.

L: Marion Cotillard, Matthias Schoenaerts, a translator, Jacques Audiard & Clare Stewart.
R: Assorted Franco-Belgian shenanigans

Rust and Bone is based on a short story of the same name by Craig Davidson, which, from what the author says on his website and from what Audiard said during the Q&A tonight, seems to have gone through a number of changes in its transition to the big screen. The short story seems to be Fight Club, whereas the poster of the movie proudly displays the Grauniad's one-line summary: "an utterly absorbing love story." It is utterly absorbing, if very draining and hard to watch at times. It is also beautifully shot with recurring water motifs, and the Côte d'Azur making an attractive backdrop, even in its seedier parts. Cotillard is excellent, as usual, and Schoenaerts is also good playing a character who is often unlikable and infuriating. They are playing very different characters but the chemistry between them is good and believable.

The Q&A after the movie proved rather interesting, with two French people, a Belgium, an Aussie and a translator on stage. It didn't help that audience members tried to ask questions in French or Flemish, which then had to be translated back into English for the benefit of the rest of the audience. Cotillard and Schoenaerts both spoke very good English, although Audiard's was a little weaker, which meant the Q&A felt more farcical than usual. Audiard had wanted to work with Cotillard for a long time, he said ("me too," Schoenaerts added). Someone asked about the ending, which did change substantially from the short story, "because my co-writer and I both have children" and because the movie is a melodrama and there are thus certain conventions to be followed. When asked what his next film would be if Rust and Bone is a follow-on from A Prophet; hilariously, he said, "a musical." I can't remember any other interesting questions, although at one point Schoenaerts decided to pick up Cotillard and swing her round to show her legs off to the audience. This is what happens when you let the Euros into LFF, you see!

The Burger Bulletin: Bleecker St Burger

The number one N1 street food market formerly known as eat.st had a bit of a rebrand this week. We feared eat.st might be on the way out as Google Chrome seemed to think its website had been the victim of a malware attack, but instead, rising like a phoenix from the ashes of that weird hinterland between King's Cross and St Pancras, Kerb Food has been born. The eat.st founders just went their separate ways, it seems, and from the looks of things Kerb will have many of the same vendors as its predecessor.

The van parade (top) and Kerb's new signage (bottom)

Kerb launched yesterday with a remarkably unremarkable "van parade," and it was business as usual again today, albeit with a particularly good selection of traders. I was pleased to see that Bleecker St Burger was there: my love of burgers is well documented and Bleecker Street is one of my favourites in Manhattan. I was even more pleased when I found out that sweet potato fries--a big weakness of mine--were on the menu. My previous eat.st burger encounters have been limited to Mother Flipper, who do a great caramelised-bacon-cheese-double-burger, but who don't serve chips and who are too hip to be very efficient.

Bleecker St Burger's delicious wares

Bleecker St Burger are a much slicker operation. You can get a cheeseburger for £4.50 (cheaper than Mother Flipper) or upgrade to a double for £7.90 (not as good value as MF's Double Candy). Fries are £2.50 and sweet potato fries are just 50p more for a bag big enough to share. The burgers are, as their sign notes, served medium rare as standard. I misread this as "medium" and asked for mine medium rare; nonetheless, it came pretty medium. It was still a great burger--juicy and flavoursome--and complemented perfectly by the sweet potato fries. Given that I didn't drip mayo/cheese/burger juice down my jacket, I would say that BSB's burgers are slightly less juicy than MF's, but there's not much in it, and the fries options and efficiency of the former edge them into the lead in the best Kerb Food burger contest.

Bleecker St Burger @ Kerb Food (Tube: King's Cross) and elsewhere; check their website or Twitter feed.

Time Out London Is Dead, Long Live Time Out London

When you buy a Groupon deal, even if you feel like you're getting a great bargain, somehow the house always seems to win. About 18 months ago I bought a deal for a one-year subscription to Time Out's London edition, which, at £35, seemed like a reasonable enough price for me--a sporadic reader, at best--to hit the button. When my year was up, I was going to cancel the subscription but they let me renew at the same rate, and I decided that I got more than £35 of value from the magazine, even though most if not all of their content is available online. 

I liked having it all in a magazine format, which I could peruse on a Wednesday evening. I also liked the feeling of being a Time Out subscriber. It was like a badge of pride: I care about my city and enjoy finding out about all of the weird and wonderful things going on in London. I liked the features and read all of the film, shopping, food and drink, and around town sections each week, and leafed through the others. I wasn't one of those people who protested when they tried to axe the TV section earlier in the year, although maybe I should have seen it as a warning.

n00b (L) and old skool (R) versions of Time Out

When I read in the Guardian a couple of months ago that Time Out London would be going free, the first thing I did was call the latter to find out what this meant for subscribers. They weren't expecting the news to leak so soon and couldn't tell me anything helpful (I work in a busy press office, so I can sympathise). A couple of weeks ago, I found out their best offer: I can either continue to receive the (now free) magazine in the post until the end of my subscription in April, plus three bonus months, or I can have the rest of my money back. I object to paying for a magazine I can pick up for free from the bus stops near my home and my office, but equally, my refund would only amount to £15, so I'll probably stay subscribed and then cancel at the end of my subscription.

Size matters...

As for the new magazine, I did think it was clever to make the first issue about all the free things you can do in London; they also had a load of competitions to win their favourite free stuff. The magazine itself is both bigger and thinner and the paper quality isn't as good. There are a lot more adverts, although most of them are for gigs, plays, and other events that might previously have appeared in the much-culled listings sections. The content in the new issue doesn't bug me too much: my favourite sections are still there, albeit in a somewhat abbreviated form, and although the articles are less meaty, I actually quite like lists and bullet points. In fact, the new and, well, different Time Out feels a lot like a more gender-neutral version of Shortlist, the free lad mag distributed in London on Thursday mornings.

Don't get me wrong, I'll still enjoy reading Time Out Lite, but it's definitely a shadow of its former self. And that is a crying shame.