The X Factor

My deep seated obsession with James McEvoy has been documented. Shameless, Atonement, Macbeth, Becoming Jane, Narnia, Wanted... If my James wasn't the best thing about these movies/shows, then he was pretty darn close.

My long running infatuation with the X-Men franchise is no secret. And my penchant for superhero flicks, either the original characters or the comic book derivatives is not something I am ashamed of.

The only thing that has kept my excitement about the latest prequel, X-Men: First Class has been the insanity that is my life of late, and the discipline of my routine of Expectation Management. Not only does this movie have superheroes in silly suits, not only does it have character drenched back-story, not only does it have the uber-hot January Jones and the super-sexy Rose Byrne, but the condescending and ever-so-slightly bossy boots of Professor Francis Xavier is played by the oh-so-delicious James McAvoy!!

But he isn't the best thing in the movie.

In terms of a review, there isn't really much to say. There isn't much that is unexpected about the plot - the conflict in increasing stakes, the war between the mutants and the humans. The set pieces are a little predictable - pretty fab, action packed, lots of henchmen getting slain. The overarching message of the piece - the issues of the greater good, the question of a struggle for identity, of being true to ones self - these are not new messages, and are certainly not new for the franchise. The big, weighty, clunky "B-Word", known in depth by English teachers, and feared by HSC students for the last few year, is hurled around with gay abandon.

I always like an alternative history. First Class is set post WWII, in the time of hunting those nasty Nazis, and with the Cold War freaking everyone else out. And seeing the Cuban Missile Crisis play out with mutants was significantly more explodey and special effecty than the walky-talky Katy Holmes-Greg Kinnear version on The Kennedys tonight. Funny how a piece of history hits you from multiple angles in one day. Whereas The Last Stand heavily cemented the metaphor of  mutantism with homosexuality, this prequel centres it back on the cultural or religious stereotypes and prejudices. The oppressive fear of nuclear war, the threat of the Red Other, the commies, is effective as a metaphor for the evolutionary revolution that the mutants continue to harp on about.

The performances are all pretty good - though some are better than others. Jennifer Lawrence is a little bit Squinty McPout for my liking. Very soon, some sassy director is going to cast her as Helen Hunt's sister. Or daughter. Or past-self. My beloved James is suitably smug, conveying Patrick Stewart's later arrogance. Though his tendancy to massage his temple is a little annoying. Kevin Bacon continues to look disturbingly piggy (is this nominative determanism at its most literal?) but doesn't seem to be quite evil enough as the major antagonist, Sebastian Shaw.

So if you weren't going to see the film anyway, there is nothing I can say that is going to inspire you to do it.

Except for perhaps two words.

Michael. Fassbender.

A brilliant name like this hasn't been seen since Benedict Cumberbatch. And he has the talent - both acting and physical- to support a brilliant name like this.

The character of Magnito requires some serious screen gravity. Sir Ian McKellen has it. Great voice, lived in face, rich in character. This character has to be able to walk the thin wire between total meglamaniac, and a voice of insanity that actually speaks the truth. He recognises the precarious nature of humans - their capacity for unrestrained cruelty and violence. And chooses to fight back, rather than bend to human pressure.

And Fassbender walks that line with grace. I've seen him in Inglorious Basterds and Band of Brothers, and his face is so likeable, so manly and chiseled. And that hint of Irish lilt doesn't hurt either. So I think I have just found yet another gentleman for my celebrity crush list. Almost ALL of the reviews I have seen and heard have agreed that Fassbender is the highlight of this installment. And I'm with them.

The X-Men franchise is not without its problems. The sexual politics of the original 1963 comics is understandably problematic. We are talking pre-sexual revolution here. Jean Grey is completely objectified, totally passive in her powers and ever the damsel-in-distress that needs rescuing. Even the post-feminist installments are not necessarily pro-grrl. The inclusion/tokenism of various races - and the 'disposable' nature of some of the un-Caucasian characters makes me a little uneasy. And the temporal setting of the Cold War in this one raises the issues of the women's place - in the CIA, in the sexual manipulation of men, in combat situations... The question I tend to ask myself is if I love the characters enough to ignore the blatant and latent bigotry?

Of course, the ending is set up for another follow up. Though, I think it would be rather confusing to run THREE different time lines on the one franchise. The Wolverine line, with the sequel with Hugh Jackman (scrummy), and something about Japan. And then the Deadpool Origins film with Ryan Reynolds (more scrummy-ness). Then there is this line, with the First Class kiddies, the beginning of the X-Men Academy. I think it should be called X-Men: Second Class, but that might be seeming like a judgement call on the story or something. Wiki says it is X-Men: First Class 2. And then there is the original series, with  an X4 film slated  as a possibility.

Bring it on, I say. I will hand over  my money to the box office every time.

Escape to Chatsworth Estate

Channel 4 may well be behind the greatest scripted television ever created. Britain's commercial station with a youngish bent (but not as trashy/ soft porn as Channel Five). They made Spaced, the show that turns my legs to jelly and my belly to squishy chocolate cake. They made the greatest celebration of nerdyness - The IT Crowd.

And they are the home of Shameless.

This show started when I was Over There, but I really didn't get entirely hooked until I snaffled a super cheap copy of season 1 on DVD, and since then I have wanted to emerse myself in northern slang, take up smoking and return to drinking pints. I also really really really want to punch someone in the nose.

Set in the grimey world of the houseing esates, following the less than functional Gallagher family, this show is seriously addictive and so so well made. Intelligent structures and adorable flawed heroes. Season One also cradled James McAvoy (oh my) (and perhaps I only watch each subsequent episode with the tiniest of shining hopes that he will come back into it, but alas, he is somewhere in Spain with Fiona on the run from the boys in blue).

This show kinda glorifies the world of the coupon and the gyro and the quick scam. Not quite to a point where we want to be involved, but almost. There is not much that makes me want to live near the Maguires (ooh and I love the way the Maguires say their name. Ma Gwy Ahs. !!) or take a spot in Lilian's home made brothel. And I don't fancy getting my bag snatched at the Jockey or getting lost in the streets of the estate. Frank (or Vernon Francis) is a slug, a worm, a germ of a man. His latest (and original but not only) wife Monica is an annoying narcissist who really deserves a knitting needle through one of her central organs. Fiona was a little too self righteous for me, plus she was a monkey wingnut (or maybe I'm just jealous that she used to snog James on a regular basis). But Lip (I want him back too) is a heavy browed sex god, Ian is the gay brother I want to have and Debbie has grown into a narky sarcastic cow that I wish I had the guts to be when I was a teenager. I do feel like the Gallaghers are a part of my life.

And what astounds me is that 5 years later, the kiddie actors they hired - especially Our Carl and Debbie - are pretty bloody good, really.

I'm rationing myself on Season 5 at the moment (having picked up the 1-4 box set when I was Over There last year, and then ordered #5 on Amazon, because SBS DVD only want Season 1 to be on DVD here - bastards) because I missed most of it last year, being on Boy Factory duty on Monday nights. And I am avoiding watching Season 6 on Mondays, because it might ruin #5 for me.

If you love character dramas with dark dark humour and a fair whack of silliness, then you will love this show. If you like to steer clear of obscene language, sex scenes, hand held cameras (counting out David Stratton here I guess), vomit, punched noses or gratuitous drinking, or you can't catch on to a thick Northern accent then I'd give it a miss. But never let me know you have spurned it. Or I might call you one of the creative insults like they have on the show, like.

Oh. And the bad news. Like most things of beauty, that hint at originality on TV, the Yanks are going to do their own version. I don't care if the "writers" do come from West Wing pedigree. Leave this televisiual masterpiece alone, you vultures!!!

Power to the Author!

Atonement.

–noun. satisfaction or reparation for a wrong or injury; amends.

I have seen this film, and I loved it. Despite Keira Knightley and her overpowering jut on the bottom half of her face. Her underbite makes the smoking look simulatneously natural and staged, if that is indeed possible.

Compensating for KK and her jaw is the oh-so-lovely James McAvoy (oh my!). And That Green Dress. I don't often wish to be super thin or super rich, but looking at that dress makes me want both. Because you can't have one without the other.

Generally I am not a huge fan of the multiperspectived narratives. Sure they can be done well. Run Lola Run is nothing short of brilliant, but that is more about multiple perspectives in time. Magnolia, the pin up film of the multinarratived tale just shits me. What with Tom Cruise and the frogs. I never got how so many film buffs like it so much.

Atonement the film shifts in charater perspective and in temporal frame. And it does so cohesively and with style. It has a fantastic score, with the digetic bleeding into the non, to tie in the shifts and keep a strong sense of self-awareness to the story telling. The film doesn't let you get too lost in the narrative, and I mean that in a good way. The novel doesn't introduce this self-reflexivity until the epilogue.

What with having read the novel after seeing the film (by a number of years), it is Keira, James, Vanessa Redgrave and the cast from Joe Wright's film that I see, rather than the casting of my own creation. Which I usually don't enjoy as much as my own imagination's version. But in this instance I got to spend more time alone with Mr McAvoy under my doona, so I didn't mind too much.

The form of the novel give the idea of The Author As God more weight than the film does. The notion that a writer can atone for their mistakes through their work makes more sense, and has more power in the reading than it does on the silver screen, with Vanessa Redgrave playing just another character reading words that someone wrote for her. Ian McEwan himself has scribed these words about the cathartic processes of writing himself. And sure, he was never a 13 year old girl, and so it is doubtful his actions directly mirror Briony's. But what mistakes has he rewritten? And the other author's of the world?

While there are whole tracts of description - of war, of the grounds, of the hospital - that I found dull and emotionless or repetetive, it was just as easy to slide over them to the real story of the characters.

After putting down the finished book, it was one of those reading experiences where I felt sad. Not just because Robbie & co didn't get their happy ending in real life, but also because I had finished, and now it was time for me to leave Cee and Robbie and Briony, and get back to the world of reality. With no green dress.