There are no known photos or You Tube videos to tell us what the real life Attila The Hun looked like. We can only speculate as to his actual appearance. Some accounts suggest that he was nasty, brutish and short. Others describe him as a tall, athletic,with a well-trimmed beard, piercing eyes and an impressive mane of long wavy hair – exactly  like Gerard Butler, in fact.

Of course, historical accuracy is always a bone of contention. Pedants have noted that corsets and thongs did not exist in the 5th century, although these can be seen during the relatively tame orgy scenes of this lame TV mini-series turned movie. Scholars also point out that Attila did not kill his brother Bleda immediately after returning from his fact-finding trip to Rome and that Aetius was not murdered directly following Attila’s death.

Neither can it be verified that the Hun war cry (nnnaaaaaaaaarrrrgggghhhhhhh!!!!!!) is linguistically precise although I personally would like to think that Attila really did urge his followers into battle shouting  “Go….go….go” like the head of a squat team on a drug raid.

General Flavius Aetius (Powers Boothe) is employed like Pulp Fiction’s Winston Wolf to get the inept authorities out of a tight spot. He immediately shows he’s a contender by managing to remain fighting fit, well-groomed and clean-shaven even after being held in solitary confinement and fed on prison scraps. He is released because Caesar Valentian is so clearly an incompetent leader- Reg Rogers seems to have modelled this role on Kenneth Williams’ star turn as Julius Caesar in Carry On Cleo.  Aetius is a kind of Zen Roman never breaking sweat as he carries out his cunning plans to outwit the Huns.  Even when he is stabbed to death, he looks only vaguely nonplussed.

In the movie version, Attila meets N’Kara the first of his thirteen wives while on a routine pillaging mission. She is lined up with all the other rebel villagers patiently waiting for her throat to be cut but he spares her, claiming that he admires her spirit (although the fact that she’s a HOT redhead also helps her cause).Far from being enraged that her friends,relatives and fellow citizens have been slaughtered by the Huns, N’Kara pragmatically takes the opportunity to switch allegiance.

Attila the hunk also turns the heads of the young women in Rome who line the route like groupies. We are privy to one representative dialogue:
-”He’s quite striking – in a primitive sort of way”
-”His clothes are made of animal skins”
-”Don’t worry he’ll be out of them soon enough”.

As you can tell from this, the script writers aren’t going for Shakespearean poetry here. Steven Berkoff vainly attempts to bring some theatrical eloquence to the part of King Rua but only proves that what sounds charismatic on stage often sounds pompous or just plain silly on-screen. The stilted and anachronistic lines he has to say don’t help his cause.

The screenplay includes many unintentionally funny exchanges, my favourite of which is after Attila’s death in announced:
Caesar Valentian : “Is there any chance, I wonder, of finding his grave?”
Aetius : “It’s doubtful, Sire. The slaves who buried him will have been killed to keep the location secret. It’s an old Hun custom”.
Valentian : “It’s a pity. I had hopes of displaying his head in the Forum”.
Aetius :  “No doubt that explains the custom”.

The pre-battle pep talks in these movies always crack me up. The thousands of assembled troops gather to hear the motivational speeches but it is not clear how they can possibly see or hear their leader since having LED screens or microphones would be stretching historical inaccuracy too far. I imagine a typical conversation between two soldiers going something like this:
Soldier A -  What did he say?
Soldier B -  Fucked if I know – just shout nnnaaaaaaaaarrrrgggghhhhhhh when he’s finished.

The way this version of Attila story is told, it gives the impression that Europe may have been better off had the Barbarian Huns triumphed over the Romans.  Perhaps we’d have had better hairdressers but the quality of the bathroom facilities would have suffered.

Related link:
Review (Beyond Hollywood)

SHAME directed by Steve McQueen (UK, 2011)

Shame is a defining film about manhood; as groundbreaking as movies like Taxi Driver, American Gigolo and Blue Velvet.

What each of these films have in common is that they don’t shy away from the darker aspects of humanity and the limitless ambiguities surrounding male sexuality.

If this movie had been made in Hollywood it  would probably have starred someone like Michael Douglas, Charlie Sheen or Russell Brand, all actors who have confessed and/or boasted about being addicted to sex.

With any of these in the leading role of Brandon, the film would have ended as either a vacuous, moralising drama or a titillating American Pie style ‘comedy’.   English director, Steve McQueen takes a more courageous course of treating the subject seriously without feeling the need to judge the characters or tag on a token feel good ending.  This is a film for grown-ups.

Michael Fassbender

In casting Michael Fassbender in the lead role he has an actor able to meet the challenge of baring all both literally and metaphorically. The fact that so much has been made of his full frontal scenes supports McQueen’s view that there are still many taboos relating to the true representation of sex on-screen.

While the film is quite raunchy and explicit, it is still a long way from being hardcore and if you see it expecting to get turned on you are in for a disappointment. This is not a sexy movie but a film about sex made from a refreshingly adult perspective.

There’s an aspect of Brandon that any red-blooded male can relate to.  Any man who says he has never seen or used pornography is either lying or making the improbable admission that he has no interest in sex. Consuming  porn is a lot like scratching a raw wound, you know you shouldn’t do it but sometimes the temptation is just too great to resist. The ready availability of hardcore images and videos on the internet means that this can be done casually and anonymously. There is no longer the stigma or embarrassment of having to go into a store and purchase a girlie mag or rent a ‘dirty movie’.

Brandon’s behaviour departs from the norm because it crosses into the field of obsessive-compulsive disorder. He is unwilling and unable to control his cravings. This takes his needs beyond the basic desire for pleasure and sexual release but into the realm of self harm.  He is an orgasm addict who masturbates constantly, downloads hardcore porn at home and at work and uses prostitutes regularly.

The immediate gratification is temporarily satisfying but never truly pleasurable and is quickly followed by feelings of shame. At one point he bins his laptop along with his huge stack of  porn magazines and movies but it is plain that he won’t kick the habit so easily.

He may have a successful job and a smart New York apartment but he is more like his sister than he would like to admit. Both siblings are damaged goods; the main difference is that she is less skilled in hiding the fact. One of the best scenes is where Brandon tells her that she cannot stay at his place even though he knows she has no alternative. This is where Fassbender is at his best, bringing a ferocity to the part that never seems forced.

Carey Mulligan is also impressive as his fucked-up sister Sissy who dreams of being a successful singer. Her slowed down rendition of New York, New York in a nightclub strips this standard of all its swagger and optimism to become a statement of tortured longing on a par with The Smiths’ Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want.

Brandon is hateful towards her but this is born of a sibling rivalry that obviously has a history. Otherwise, he does not directly abuse women so it is hard to argue that he is a classic misogynist. If anything his hatred is turned inwards rather than directed at women.

Those he has sex with are either willing to be used as one night stands or doing it for cash. There’s even a scene of him getting a blowjob at a gay club.  One could argue that sex without love is an empty experience but, as Woody Allen once quipped,  “as far as empty experiences go, it’s one of the best”.  This is one reason why Brandon maintains his compulsion which enables him to get perverted pleasure from his inner pain. At the same time it enables him to maintain a control that cannot be guaranteed in a ‘normal’ relationship. When he’s dating a young work colleague he is nervous and looks ill at ease. In bed together he fails to get an erection because he can perform sex with a stranger but can’t make love with someone he knows and likes.

Fassbender is such a hunk that I’m sure many women would willingly queue up to try and cure him.  I also think many men would see nothing wrong in his insatiable quest for sex without emotion and commitment. These facts alone mean that the movie reaches the parts mainstream cinema cannot reach.

And those who have the most cause to be ashamed of themselves are the Oscars Academy for completely snubbing this movie and failing to recognise its importance.

I’ve put $50 towards this worthy cause  and recommend you choose a subscription level you can afford for the final push as the deadline of 30th January approaches.

There’s a great interview with Diane about this project at Bobbysix.Com that may convince you to give generously.

I like her affirmative outlook which you can guage from these words:
“In many ways, I’m taking more responsibility for the outcome of my life. A lot of conventional music business protocol didn’t make sense to me, and I spent more time reacting against a system I didn’t like rather than laying the groundwork for my own. That’s what I’m doing now, with help, and I think the times we’re in now are actually fostering that growth in me, making it easier. Song-of-the-Week is helping me commit to more follow-through with my creative ideas. I’m discovering how helpful organization can be… and how much I’ve needed it for a long time. I’m learning to schedule my own work days as well as time off”.

"Say you like me or the pussy cats die!"

This perfectly appalling movie is based on the 1957 novel, Angel, by Elizabeth Taylor whose unlovable protagonist was inspired by Marie Corelli, Queen Victoria’s favourite writer.

Angel specialises in slushy romantic fiction and her vivid imagination makes up for her ignorance.

She writes with authority about Italy without ever having been and won’t change a word of her novels even when they contain blatant errors like a description of opening a bottle of champagne with a corkscrew.

Her refusal to compromise for her ‘art’ makes her insufferable. You might admire her drive and single-minded determination to rise above humble beginnings but she is such a hideous personality that you just end up loathing her.

Like Margaret Thatcher, she is a grocer’s daughter and , like the Iron Lady, she  lacks any common humanity. You don’t have to like a main character to enjoy a movie but, in this instance, Romola Garai is so hammy in the lead role she’s not even someone you can love to hate.

Angel displays her naked ambition.

Despite her lack of redeeming qualities, all her childhood fantasies are fulfilled as she become a successful novelist and makes enough money to be able to buy the Paradise estate she dreamed of owning as a young girl.

The only reason for watching it, and the only reason I was interested in seeing it, is to see Michael Fassbender in pre-Shame role. He’s Esmé, a struggling artist whose paintings reflect his cynical character. Angel can’t understand why he doesn’t use brighter colours but is so smitten by his dashing good looks that she marries him anyway.

Subsequently the ill-matched couple become estranged when he enlists for the army. Angel regards the First World War as a trivial distraction that shouldn’t disturb her private universe. Esmé ends up killing himself, and I think anyone married to her would be tempted to take the same exit route.

Sam Neil , as Angel’s publisher, drifts gamely through the movie with the bemused expression of someone who has been conned into making a film to match My Brilliant Career.

I can only imagine that the French director thought his kitschy style would be in keeping with the brash and trashy romantic fiction Angel writes so prolifically.  But to pull this off, the movie needs to have the quality of a playful romp and plenty of tongue-in-cheek humour. Instead, it comes across as a heavy-handed tragicomedy and a parody of itself.

This is one of those records which you hear once and think ‘This is quite nice’ and then on each subsequent hearing the adjective goes up a notch.

You could call it ‘a grower’ if you don’t mind sounding like a guest on Smashey and Nicey ‘s Fab FM.

The great Jim White produced one of the tracks embellished with cello, upright bass, piano and french horns but there’s also a nice ‘let’s keep things simple and unadorned’  acoustic version of the same tune, Simon Says, to be seen and heard on Vimeo to give a flavour of Dare’s natty way with words: