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Marvellous

By Cats, Family
In which the author takes the liberty of re-posting an animal obituary from late 2004 that originally appeared on another site because, well, he can’t trust those bastards at www.paramount.co.nz.
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Ron Greenwood

By Football, Hammers, Sport

West Ham United Crestpassed away yes­ter­day at the age of 84. He was the West Ham man­ager when I was just old enough to know what was going on and the England man­ager who restored some pride after we failed to qual­i­fy for the 1978 World Cup.

And as sev­er­al oth­er people have noted, the 1966 World Cup was won on the train­ing fields of Chadwell Heath as the spine of that side (Hurst, Moore, Peters) had grown to prom­in­ence under Greenwood at West Ham, win­ning the FA Cup in ’64 and the Cup Winners Cup in ’65.

And I heart­ily endorse the sug­ges­tion that the new East Stand at Upton Park be named the Ron Greenwood Stand if and when it ever gets built.

Out & About

By Hurricanes, Rugby, Sport, Wellington
  • Late this after­noon saw All Black and Hurricanes hook­er Andrew Hore wan­der­ing aim­lessly around the Courtenay Central Whitcoulls, then stand­ing aim­lessly (if that’s pos­sible) at the Molly Malone’s corner. I know they only train for a couple of hours a day but couldn’t they give him a Playstation or something?
  • Dinner at Curry Village on Allen St – review to come;
  • Followed by drinks at the Paramount – gos­sip to come (prob­ably not such a good idea);
  • Ended with my first vis­it to Boogie Wonderland on the Paramount ground floor: a won­der­ful trans­form­a­tion of a huge space. Obviously a bit quiet on a Wednesday but there would have been about 25 people there when I left (after 1.00am). It is a theme club and the theme is very lame but if you get there before mid­night you can get that nightclubby exper­i­ence without the nightclubby crowds. Music is like listen­ing to Classic Hits VERY LOUD and they don’t take requests, no mat­ter how good they are.
  • Too tired to put the rub­bish out. My bad.
Dirty Pretty Things poster

Dirty Pretty Things (2002)

By Cinema, Reviews

Dirty Pretty Things posterIn the far-fetched, but involving, thrill­er Dirty Pretty Things Chiwetel Ejiofer stands out as Okwe, a Nigerian illeg­al immig­rant liv­ing below the state radar in London. Haunted by a past tragedy he drives a minicab by day and takes the front desk of a small hotel for the night shift. When he’s not at one of his jobs he crashes on the couch of Senay (Audrey Tautou), a Turkish refugee who is also work­ing illeg­ally at the hotel.

When Okwe dis­cov­ers a human heart block­ing the toi­let of Room 510, he finds him­self unwill­ingly involved in anoth­er of aspect London’s seamy under­side, the traffic in human organs. Meanwhile the immig­ra­tion author­it­ies close in on Senay who finds her own options run­ning out.

Stephen Frears dir­ects with a work­man­like, BBC, non-style which is prob­ably not helped by watch­ing it on a TV. Ejiofer has great pres­ence and is the real soul of the film but, apart from Tatou, the rest of the United Nations cast aren’t able to elev­ate their char­ac­ters above cliché. Villain Sneaky, in par­tic­u­lar, seems to be played all on one note by Spanish act­or Sergi López in a rare English lan­guage per­form­ance. Academy Award nom­in­ee Sophie Okenedo (Hotel Rwanda) is fine as the pro­ver­bi­al whore with a heart of gold but isn’t giv­en much help by the script.

Directed by Stephen Frears. 94 minutes.
Screening con­di­tions: At home on DVD, via DVD Unlimited. Sound and pic­ture fine.

“the odious smell of truth”

By Current Events

Heroes and Villains from the NY Times (mostly villains)Review of James Risen’s book, State of War: The Secret History of the CIA and the Bush Administration in the New York Times by Walter Isaacson:

So wel­come to the new age of impres­sion­ist­ic his­tory. Like an Impressionist paint­ing, it relies on dots of vary­ing hues and intens­ity. Some come from leak­ers like those who spoke to Risen. Other dots come from the mem­oirs and com­ments of the play­ers. Eventually, a pic­ture emerges, slowly get­ting clear­er. It’s up to us to con­nect the dots and find our own mean­ings in this landscape.

Currently behind the NT Times doofuss-wall and in sev­en days behind the full-blooded paywall.