11 Songs

I don't add new music to my iTunes library very often, instead tending to listen to the same old favourites again and again. Sometimes, I go off one of those old favourites, though. And sometimes I listened to a song that never quite made it to "favourite" status but was a real earworm so many times that it shot much higher up my iTunes most played list than it deserved. It takes a long time for these songs to fall out of my top ten most played songs and so I never felt this list was very representative of my all-time favourite songs.

But when I looked at my most played songs today, I was surprised to find that a lot of the top ten might actually be selected as my Desert Island Discs (well, the songs I'd want to select, if not necessarily the songs I think I ought to select). The top three, which all have over 300 plays since 2005 (when my records began) would definitely make my qualitative top ten (the songs I'd pick as my favourites, as opposed to the ones iTunes tells me are my favourites): if not the top three: Jeff Buckley's Hallelujah, Imogen Heap's Hide and Seek and Sufjan Stevens's For the Widows in Paradise. #4 is another Imogen Heap song (The Walk) and although it reached the 200-300 plays section, I wouldn't want to include two songs by the same artist in my qualitative top ten.

#5 to #8 form the OC contingent of my top ten most played (technically, Hallelujah was featured in The OC too but I liked it before I saw it there). In order: Worn Me Down (EP version) by Rachel Yamagata, Life Is a Song by Patrick Park, Wonderwall by Ryan Adams and the Bettie Serveert cover of Lover I Don't Have to Love. Ironic that I was an Oasis fan for so many years and their only song in my top ten most played is a cover by another artist (the original made it to #35).

#9 and #10 are songs I associate with Nowheresville: Crazy English Summer by Faithless and Wishful Thinking by Rupa & the April Fishes. I don't think the former deserves to be so high, although I do still listen to it fairly often so obviously I don't know my own taste as well as I think I do. The latter is still on its way up and will probably reach the top five soon.

Many of the rest of the songs in the top 30 were once in the top ten and have since fallen in my esteem. I still like them but they're not my favourites any more.

If I were to pick a qualitative top ten, it would probably go a little like this, although not necessarily in this order (and yes, I know you don't get ten songs on Desert Island Discs):

1. Hallelujah — Jeff Buckley
2. Wonderwall — Ryan Adams
3. Wishful Thinking — Rupa & the April Fishes
4. Thunder Road (acoustic) — Bruce Springsteen
5. Hide & Seek — Imogen Heap
6. Disintegration — The Cure (or maybe Maybe Someday)
7. For the Widows in Paradise — Sufjan Stevens
8. With or Without You — U2
9. I Wanna Be Adored — The Stone Roses
10. Pale Blue Eyes — The Velvet Underground

But then I'd still be sad not to include How Soon Is Now?, Expresso Love, something by Oasis, something by Suede and... OK, maybe this list needs some more work...

Separation Anxiety

The eponymous separation in A Separation might only take up about 15 minutes of the movie's two-hour screen time but it acts as the catalyst for all of the subsequent events in the film. As the film opens, we see Nader and Simin, a middle-class Iranian couple, trying to obtain a divorce. Simin has obtained a visa that would allow the couple and their ten-year-old daughter, Termeh, to leave the country but Nader wants to remain in Iran to care for his father, who has Alzheimer's. Nader doesn't want Termeh to leave and she isn't keen to leave either but as her mother puts it, Termeh is too young to realise the loss of opportunities staying in Iran will entail.

Thwarted in her efforts to get the divorce, Simin moves out of the family home and moves in with her parents. This means that Nader must find someone to come into the flat to care for his father while Nader is at work. An acquaintance of Simin's recommends her sister-in-law, Razieh, a working-class 30-something, whom Nader interviews for the position. Razieh seems reluctant — she would have to leave her home at 5 am and take several buses to get to Nader's house and she doesn't think the pay is sufficient, but eventually, she says she'll take the job. 

The trouble starts when Nader's father's illness suddenly worsens, he stops talking and starts soiling himself. The presents a problem for Razieh, who is very devout and thinks it is a sin for her to wash and change Nader's father. The situation is complicated by the fact that Razieh's unemployed, depressed husband doesn't know she has taken the job and so she tries to get him to do it instead. This doesn't work out, however, and Razieh keeps on turning up each day.

But one day, Nader and Termeh arrive home earlier than usual to find their flat locked and no one answering the door. When they eventually get in, they find Nader's father unconscious on the floor, tied by his arm to the bed, and Razieh nowhere to be seen. 

While the two of them try to wake Nader's father and check whether he is OK, Razieh and her young daughter return. Inevitably, a fight develops — not only did Razieh leave Nader's father alone in the flat, tied to his bed, but she may also have stolen some money. Furious, Nader throws her out, metaphorically, but she comes back a) because she doesn't want him to think she's a thief and b) to get her pay for the day. This time, Nader throws her out literally. She slips on the wet staircase and falls.

The following day, a seething Simin comes to tell Nader that Razieh is in hospital having had a miscarriage and that it's all his fault. The remaining hour or so of the film is occupied with the ensuing courtroom drama. Razieh and her husband are accusing Nader of the murder of their unborn son; Nader responds by filing a complaint against Razieh for leaving his helpless father alone when she'd been employed to take care of him. 

There is a lot of anger on both sides. I found my sympathies lying unexpectedly with Nader, who I felt had every right to be angry after what happened to his father, even if he wasn't right to physically push Razieh out of his flat. As well as trying to stay out of jail, he has to try to persuade his estranged wife to return home and try not to lose the respect of his daughter, especially when it transpires that the latter only chose to stay with him to try to prevent her parents' separation becoming permanent.

Eventually, various revelations clear up the legal — if not the moral — issues between the two families, which brings the drama back to Nader and Simin's separation. At the end of the film, they decide to go ahead with the divorce, which just leaves Termeh to decide with whom she wants to live. She has made up her mind and asks her parents to wait outside while she tells the judge her decision and as the credits start to roll, we see Nader waiting in anticipation. 

My guess is that she chooses to live with her mother, despite the fact that she stood by her father throughout the film and even lied to protect him. She still loves him but I do think she loses some respect for him over the course of the film.

The acting was great — very low key and restrained — and the issues were dealt with sensitively and intelligently.  I got the impression that the director didn't want to take sides, in either of the legal cases; instead, each character makes both good and bad decisions and has a varying moral compass. 

Is it right to leave a man with Alzheimer's by himself for a few hours even if you have a very good reason for going? Is it right to seek to accuse someone of a crime when you have a reasonable degree of doubt that they might not really be responsible? Is it right to say in court that you didn't know something when you really did it know it but didn't recall it in the heat of the moment? Is it right to lie to protect someone, to stop them being punished for an act for which you don't believe they are responsible? 

The characters in A Separation dance a fine ethical dance, and it's also a very compelling, interesting dance.

Hidden Purl

Marylebone is great for shops and cafes but the Lower East Side it ain't when it comes to secret speakeasies. It does, however, have Purl, tucked away in a Blandford Street basement, and hopefully, this will be a sign of things to come. I've been meaning to visit Purl since it opened (last year, I think) but on the couple of occasions I tried to go, I hadn't booked. Last night, though, I took the opportunity of organising a girls' night out in my hood for once and booked a table.

Mr Hyde's No 2 (the potion bottle is inside the wine cooler, being infused with smoke)

It is very dark down in the basement, which is arranged into a series of nooks, crannies and private booths. I needed both of the tea lights to have any hope of reading the menu, which takes inspiration both from '30s New York and Victorian gin palaces. 

As I'd read that part of the fun is in the showmanship associated with certain drinks on the menu, I opted for Mr Hyde's No 2: rum, homemade cola and chocolate bitters, served in a "sealed potion bottle" and infused with smoke. You are encouraged to pour the mixture into your iced glass in two sections — before and after the smoke has had time to infuse — and I could taste the difference. It wasn't the type of cocktail I would normally go for but it was quite tasty and quite a fun experience. Next time, I might go for a non-molecular option--the White Lady one of my friends ordered was very nice.

We'd only planned to have the one cocktail before going somewhere else for dinner but a wandering mixologist asked if we'd like to try one of his special cocktails, made at our table from his trolley. Keen to try a more standard drink, I went for the Corpse Reviver No 2, which contained Tanqueray, Curacao and lemon, among other things. E's Hanky Panky, which involved Tanqueray and assorted citrusy ingredients, also tasted good.

Molecular mixology at our table

Overall, we were impressed. The drinks were good and creative, the ambiance was very intimate and it wasn't too loud down in the basement, which meant we could actually talk properly without having to shout. We were somewhat surprised to receive a bill for only £20 for five drinks but in the end, we decided to be honest and tell the waitress we'd had another round. 

I was hoping she might knock one drink off the bill but she just told us how nice we were instead. Ah well, at about £9 or £10 per cocktail, the prices are fairly standard for central London, but we knew that when we went...

"Why Can't You Be Happy for Me and Then Go Home and Talk about Me behind My Back Like a Normal Person?"

At the afternoon screening of Bridesmaids on Baker Street this afternoon, the audience was not female-dominated. In fact, it was about evenly split between the genders and there were several groups of guys, unaccompanied by any women, which, I guess, proves the points various people have been trying to make about the film: it's not about whether the characters are female, it's about whether they're funny. And they are pretty funny.

As someone who has seen 50 movies so far this year of which only three were funny (Potiche, Killing Bono and Morning Glory) and none of them were that funny, I may not be in the best position to judge comedies. I haven't really watched many films of the ilk of Bridesmaids for over ten years, back when I was amused by its younger, male siblings like American Pie and Road Trip, which somehow seemed to make perfect date movies. 

I like dark, edgy crime thrillers, sharp political thrillers, histories, tragedies, and so on; and if I must see a comedy, it should at least be dark and/or satirical. I like Clerks, I like Juno, and I love Mean Girls, to name just a few from my highest rated films on IMDb. And yes, I also like Shakespeare in Love, The Kids Are All Right, The Princess Bride and (the remake of) Ocean's 11, none of which are particularly dark, so I don't exclusively watch films that will make me cry rather than giggle.

As for Bridesmaids, well, I'll start by saying that I'm no longer a fan of gross-out comedy and there was a pretty gross — and long — scene in this movie. It isn't really any grosser than American Pie or what I imagine happens in the Hangover but you don't normally get to watch this kind of thing happening with a group of smart, 30-something women in a posh bridal-wear shop. Nonetheless, I was grateful to return to the "it's funny 'cause it's awkward" type humour seen in the rest of the film.

At the start of the film, we see that Annie (Kristen Wiig) is rather down on her luck. Her cupcake bakery has gone out of business, her housemates (one of whom is Matt Lucas, of all people!) are weird Brits, she has no money and she is the friend-with-benefits of Don Draper — I mean, Don Draper's light-hearted but callous alter-ego. Wait, did I say she was down on her luck? 

Anyway, this is all OK because her BFF Lillian (Maya Rudolph) is also in a rut and has an increasingly flaky boyfriend Dougie, who doesn't seem to want to commit. But then Dougie proposes and Lillian asks Annie to be her maid of honour. Annie is thrilled...on the outside, while secretly being a little jealous and scared that she'll lose her friend. And then things get worse when at the engagement party (thrown by Dougie's boss), Annie meets Helen (Rose Byrne), the wife of Dougie's boss and, it seems, Annie's new BFF.

Rich, beautiful, confident and just damn good at maid of honour duties, Helen doesn't find it hard to make Annie look bad in front of Lillian and the others. Sometimes, she doesn't need any help (like when the food at the "edgy" Brazilian restaurant Annie chose for the girls' pre-dress-fitting lunch gives them all food poisoning, leading to the aforementioned gross-out scene). 

Other times, Helen gives her a helping hand (getting Annie to unwittingly mix booze and some kind of pills to "help her calm down" on a plane), and as everything else in Annie's life continues to spiral downhill, being fired as maid of honour is the last straw, although you just know that everything will turn out OK for the moment when Lillian says, "I do." And you also know that Helen will prove to have issues and insecurities of her own, beyond her perfect hair and mad competitive wedding planning skillz. And you also know that Lessons Will Be Learned.

Nonetheless, the script was funny and the dialogue seemed very realistic (some of the women definitely seemed like Mean Girls plus 15 years). After Annie, pushed by Helen, has just ruined yet another wedding-related event, Lillian yells, "Why can't you be happy for me and then go home and talk about me behind my back like a normal person?" She then clarifies to one of the servants at Helen's house that Annie is not allowed one of the party favours (which turn out to be real, live Andrex puppies). 

With all the complaints about Bridezillas, it was quite refreshing to see some Bridesmaidzillas here, even if one of them is sympathetic and likeable; maybe I'm just saying that because it's easy for me to emphasise with Kristen Wiig's character. 

The Sins of the Fathers... — Incendies Review

Ahead of going to see Bridesmaids tomorrow, I thought I'd better balance things out by watching a much darker, deeper film. Having seen the trailer for Incendies almost every week at the Curzon for the past month or so, I knew it would definitely fit the bill.

Jeanne and Simon Marwan (Mélissa Désormeaux-Poulin and Maxim Gaudette, respectively) are 20-something twins living in Montreal. Their mother, Nawal, has recently — and suddenly — died and they are called to the notary to hear their mother's will. She leaves everything to them but says that they aren't allowed to give her a gravestone or an epitaph until they have helped her keep a promise by finding their father and their brother and delivering them each a letter.

Except they thought their father, whom they never met, was dead and they didn't know they had a brother. Simon doesn't want to play but Jeanne searches her mother's apartment for clues, finds her passport, a crucifix and a few other things and heads off to the unnamed Middle Eastern country (probably Lebanon) where their mother was born and grew up. Her mathematics supervisor sets up a meeting with a contact at the university where Nawal studied but this is just the start of a long and complicated search for the truth. "You're looking for your father and brother but you don't really know your mother," one of the characters tells her.

Jeanne's search is interspersed with her mother's story, starting with her Muslim boyfriend being murdered by her brothers because he slept with their Christian sister, bringing shame upon the family. But Nawal was pregnant and so her grandmother makes a deal: she'll arrange to have the baby adopted as long as Nawal heads to the big city and gets an education. 

All goes to plan until civil war breaks out and, guilt-stricken, Nawal hurries into the war zone in the south to try to rescue her son from the orphanage. Nawal's search turns out to be as fruitless as Jeanne's, at least initially. The latter eventually begins to find clues, with the help of the notary and Simon, who eventually comes to join her. But let's just say that there aren't any joyous reunions. "Sometimes it's best not to know everything," says a man who knew Nawal while she was in prison to Jeanne.

Based on a stage play by Wajdi Mouawad, itself loosely borrowing from Sophocles, Incendies didn't feel much like it had been adapted from a play, although at 2 hours 10 minutes, it could have done with some tighter editing. But despite its length the story was very gripping and the characters — especially the female leads — were engaging. There are plenty of twists and turns and although I didn't see most of them coming, I didn't anticipate the big reveal, which was devastating. And in case it isn't emo enough (and it's plenty emo), songs from the Radiohead album Amnesiac play from time to time...

Incendies isn't the film to see if you're in the mood for some light-hearted cinematic fun but if you're in the mood for something heavy-going but rewarding, I'd highly recommend it.

I'm Having Such a Good Time, I'm Having a Ball

This year, St John's turned 500 and as part of the celebrations, the annual May Ball was bigger and better than ever and, importantly for me, provided more tickets than usual for alumni, although apparently, I was still pretty lucky to win a double ticket in the ballot. While I was a student I went to our college's Ball every year — yes, there are other balls to try but the college next door's is the only one that comes close and their tickets were too hard to obtain. It was the same every year (technically, the themes changed from year to year but this had minimal effect on the overall experience) but it was fantastic every year and if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

After a five year break, it was fantastic to come back and celebrate St John's from MDXI to MMI. Actually, although the Ball was bigger, it wasn't all that different from most of the others I attended. There was a huge range of different food and drink on offer. I consumed, in approximate chronological order: strawberries and Champagne, pick and mix sweets, a burger, a raspberry martini, a Curiosity Cola, some very fine cheese, a Pimm's-like Summer Cup, a blueberry cupcake, candy floss, a Yorkshire pudding (no room for beef), fish and chips, some treacle tart, a G and T, a bacon bap and some coffee. In small portions, of course, so I didn't fill myself up. 

Also on offer were: Bloody Margarets (in honour of the foundress), curries, hog roast, ice cream, a fruit mountain, pancakes and plenty more. The best thing is that the food and drink rarely runs out (unlike at lesser balls) and because the variety is so great, the queues are never too long.

Lotus Leap in "India"

The theme this year was the college's history, focusing on six notable alumni (a social reformer, a poet, a former PM, a polar explorer, the Indian PM and a science fiction writer) and the aforementioned foundress. They aren't necessarily the most famous alumni, although several of them have rooms named after them in college, but were clearly chosen in part to provide themes to the different sections of the Ball, each hosted in a separate court. One court, for example, became India, with a giant, gold elephant, a painting of the Taj Mahal, curry and Cobra beer, and a chill-out tent, as well as the stage for the main music acts. Another section, in honour of the polar explorer, held fake snow, penguins, frozen vodka and ice cream.

The Gents in action

As I said before, though, the themes are always somewhat incidental as there is such a huge range of different things to do, from live music (including the rapper Big Boi who, according to the ents committee member standing behind me in a queue, who had met him, "isn't very big; he's only five eight. He's quite fat though,"; folk, jazz, D&B, and various bands doing covers, as well as the college's choir who performed a cappella versions of various pop songs at five am), to stand-up comedy, dodgems, a casino, a caricature artist, magicians, dancing, massages, and so on. Unless there is a music act you particularly like (this year there wasn't), you can just wander from court to court eating, drinking and enjoying the show.

The spectacular May Ball fireworks

And of course, the fireworks are always excellent. They seemed bigger, better and longer than usual this year but this might just be because I've had to put up with mediocre fireworks for the past five years. The Backs are the perfect setting for a spectacular show.

The weather behaved perfectly — not a drop from yesterday afternoon until I left my B&B this lunchtime — but I didn't miss being freezing and knackered at three am before the sun started to come up. With aching feet and only a shawl for warmth, you start to think, "maybe I should just go to bed." But we resisted, gambled away our chips in the casino, had some caffeine (in my case, poured most of the weak, milky but still scalding coffee over my hand), and were rewarded with a bacon sarnie and a great cover of Hey Ya by the Ella Funks before it was time for the aforementioned five am a cappella fun.

And then, at sometime after six-thirty, we sauntered away to catch a few hours of sleep, via a certain bridge for one last leap before sleep. I'm exhausted now but it was great to go back.

NYC: Getting High

Since it opened to the public in 2009, the High Line has been one of my favourite things to do in New York. Once a disused, elevated railway line, it has now been refurbed and converted into a varied public space/garden. Previously, I hadn't spent much time in the Meatpacking District or Chelsea and the High Line provides the perfect excuse to walk off a brunch or cocktail from the Standard Grill or Pastis.

Initially, the High Line took you from Gansevoort Street in the Meatpacking District up to 20th Street in Chelsea but a new section, stretching all the way up to 30th Street, opened the week before we were in the city and so it's even better than before. 

The next phase will take you to 34th Street and then round the corner, hopefully providing a good photo opp for the Empire State Building (in the meantime, they have provided an artist's impression of what the new section will look like; I did, of course, take a zoomed in photo of this so that I could pretend I had taken the photo myself).

As well as the water features, sunbeds and art in the lower section, there is now a modern-art-sculpture-cum-bird-feeder, several sections of auditorium-style seating giving overhead views of 10th Avenue and Chelsea, and a whole host of other things to discover. Plus, there is usually some combination of busking, vendors selling quirky products and interesting food, and other entertainment.

There were also plenty of joggers on our visits to the High Line, including a number of large groups of runners (and yogis, under one of the bridges). I assume someone organises jogging tours of the High Line; if not, they will soon. I can imagine it would be a great place to run although if I did so myself, I would have to do it early in the morning or when it's raining to avoid the crowds. 

My inner cat would love to sprint along and leap off some of the benches, steps and other obstacles but my inner cat does not like people getting in my way when I'm trying to maintain a constant pace. And yes, my inner cat also likes the arty bird feeder!

The High Line is also a great place for leaping—some of the features in the newly opened section make for good leaping locations. The only problem is that it's often very busy, especially on a sunny weekend or evening. This means that you either have people getting in the way of your carefully choreographed leaping shots or you feel a little embarrassed when everyone is staring at you—especially when you are wearing a skirt that isn't entirely appropriate for leaping given its tendency to billow up rather more than is modest.

My favourite part involves a series of wooden steps in front of a giant, silver-framed glass screen, which I assume is supposed to represent a giant cinema screen on which the movie that is New York is always playing. Naturally, I couldn't walk past this without wanting to take a photo of me leaping as part of this "3D New York movie" but technical difficulties (too many people getting in the way, the sun choosing the exact time we were there to appear in the gap between the buildings just behind us, my aching legs, etc) meant taking the perfect shot was pretty difficult. I liked the results a lot, though.

Sitting back and watching Manhattan go by...