The Shrovetide Match

The Match

The Royal Shrovetide Football Match has been a two-day fixture for the village of Ashbourne for at least 346 years. I made my first appearance this year in order to find out where our ‘Beautiful Game’ came from.

The game is simple enough; there are two teams the Up’ards and the Down’ards. Players are allocated to either team based on which side of the Henmore River they hail from and then they are tasked with getting the ball to their team’s goal, both of which are located one-and-a-half miles from the centre of Ashbourne.  There are rules; no trespassing, avoid cemeteries, don’t transport the ball in a motorised vehicle and don’t murder anybody.

The second day of the match began at 2pm with the Up’ards leading by a goal scored the previous day. The ball was ‘turned-up’ from a plinth in the middle of the village whereby possession of it was immediately fought for. A mass scrum known locally as the ‘hug’ soon formed with my Down’ards taking the offensive. The game’s resemblance to Rugby Football can be seen all around; the majority of players wear hooped jerseys, many possess the physiques of props and there are several ‘runners’ lingering around the ‘hug’ waiting for an opportunity to move the ball forward quickly. My average build meant I could only contribute some weight to the Down’ard’s ‘hug.’ I was relieved to find that I would be pushing the ball forwards nearly all afternoon rather than holding back half a village.

The game’s other title of ‘Mob Football’ is not unfair, while there is little malicious violence the lack of team colours means it is hard to differentiate players.  Being in the ‘hug’ can also be somewhat perilous; the mass of bodies before me meant I had no idea where I was about to tread and brief crushes had me struggling for breath. Such complaints seem redundant compared to the heroes/lunatics who chose to carry the ball while being squashed from both sides by dozens of men. My only touches of the ball turned out to be pretty pathetic; on two occasions I flapped and kicked at it like it was a beach ball being completely naive to its weight. Both times the ball travelled about a yard forward.

There are veterans standing towards the back of the ‘hug’ bellowing instructions. Usually they cry “Heave!” to help synchronise the movement of their teammates so they can make steady progress like a Roman legion as opposed to a tangle of legs. Occasionally flair tactics are employed like “Get it in the river!” as a means of testing the other team’s will to get dirty.

After five draining hours I left the match in a steep ditch where it was being illuminated by hand torches, with the Down’ards just two fields from their goal. I’d promised to watch the Champions League with friends; although I wish I’d snubbed seeing Rooney and Ronaldo in favour of helping my side of the mob score.

A chance to see The Shinig as it's meant to be seen

A chance to see The Shining as it’s meant to be seen

Stanley Kubrick has done a lot to elevate movies’ status to that of an art, which is partly due to him really being a photographer at heart. This association isn’t solely down to his films’ ability to push the boundaries in cinematography, editing and visual metaphor but also for their initially mild receptions before they are gradually recognised as classics.

The Shining is probably the best example of this; with the Academy Awards and BAFTA taking Kubrick off their list of nominees for the first time in 25 years, so the Golden Raspberries offered him a nomination as a condolence that at least he was one of the best of the bad. Audiences didn’t immediately avoid the film, it was a Stephen King novel directed by Stanley Kubrick so how could it be bad? Well Stephen King hated it for starters, the Kubrick faithful thought it was an uncharacteristically straightforward story, while horror fans weren’t doing their usual screaming at stuff catching them off guard. The Shining will not have you jumping out of your skin; in fact it will do the opposite by creeping under it to disturb you to the very core. This film is frightening and it will haunt you for some time.

The setting is the essence of the effect; the labyrinths of rooms, corridors and mirrors at the Overlook Hotel disorientates the audience’s grip on perspective, distant noises echo around the vast emptiness of its walls and the eerie music fills you with pure dread. Kubrick used every trick in his book to create a unique experience,  that’ll certainly put one off mountain resorts for a while. There are also moments and characters that will amplify your anxiety, with Jack Nicholson managing to horrify not one but two seemingly innocent popular catchphrases forever. The feeling of watching The Shining at home or on an iphone or on whatever-gizmo will not be as intense as watching it in a cinema, where you intimately share the trepidation of the characters and feel overwhelmed by the sheer nothingness of the Overlook. I feel slightly cheated that I was unable to awe at some of my favourite films on the big screen due to not being born, which is why I’ll jump at any opportunity to see a Kubrick, Leone or Coppola when it is redistributed. These revivals are exceedingly rare and temporary, so it would be a shame not to take advantage of them.

I am trying to avoid SPOILERS but what’s the point? The film’s been out for 30 years and you’ve probably already seen it or at least seen it parodied in brilliant episodes of The Simpsons. Yet Stanley’s favourite TV show contained a feature that he directly inspired, to hide messages in his works. While The Simpsons usually does this to add another joke to a scene, Kubrick utilised it to reinforce obvious or suggest alternative themes. There is a clichéd assessment of Kubrick films which is that his reputation as a perfectionist means no mistake or continuity error was overlooked but was deliberate and is there for a reason. This has been overstated somewhat, for instance the shadow of the helicopter in the first shot is most likely a mistake (although to be fair Stanley didn’t shoot this due to his fear of flying, despite having a pilot licence. Peculiar fella, yet an intriguing one who knew how to make enduring films). Kubrick put a lot of detail into the visual because he wanted a lot to be left unsaid so the audience could reach their own conclusions. There is no one way to watch a Kubrick film.

People have obsessed over Kubrick films, in fact the interpretations of The Shining-enthusiasts even warranted its own film Room 237, which was released this Autumn. These Kubrickites are academics, playwrights, conspiracy theorists and respected news correspondents, who have hypotheses ranging from plausible metaphors for the deliberately forgotten plight of the Native Americans to the more subtle Holocaust interpretations to the flat-out denied conspiracies that Kubrick was secretly apologising for faking the moon landing. I found another outlandish analysis on YouTube by Kubrick fanatic Rob Ager, who suggests the decline of the Gold Standard in the 1920s and 1930s is a central theme. While they may sound bonkers they do vindicate themselves with the film and they are doing as the director intended by developing their own thoughts rather than being spoon-fed somebody else’s. So be warned, this film can drive you a little mad, not with a murderous lust but with the multiple ways you can make sense of the film. Usually it takes a few views to clear your ideas but remember not to go too far into the maze of details or you’ll struggle to get out.

The Master review

Paul Thomas Anderson returns to the big-screen after a five-year wait with The Master. The film stars Joaquin Phoenix, Philip Seymour Hoffman and Amy Adams in a film that showcases yet another overlooked side of the United States’ maturation; its rise and recovery following World War II.

Since its first public announcement in 2009, The Master has become synonymous with Scientology due to the parallels made between its founder L. Ron Hubbard and Hoffman’s character Lancaster Dodd or The Master as he is known to his followers. Anderson acknowledges that Hubbard’s colourful life was a source of inspiration for the film, yet he states that this isn’t a biopic. This is made evident by the focus on Phoenix’s character of Freddie Quill; an alcoholic, horny short-tempered ex-serviceman whose harrowing time in the navy has led to his roaming around the American West Coast before finding ‘The Cause’, a philosophical movement headed by The Master.

Freddie’s journey takes him a long way from the blue Pacific he sailed during his Navy days. Freddie comes across all manner of post-war America life; from a bustling California department store to the domestic cosiness of the Philadelphia suburbs and the vast deserts of Arizona. The beauty of each location is revealed with typically stunning cinematography, with rich colours striking the eye and constant juxtapositions between moments of isolation and intimacy for the characters. The film also provides intriguing moments where the distinction between the Freddie’s reality and fantasy is hard to recognise.

There are fine performances all around from the cast as each injects further intrigue into a story that is as much disturbing as it is interesting. Freddie’s past traumas are openly discussed with The Master as he tries to turn him towards The Cause and the effect of his ordeal is made evident by his strange behaviour and violent outbursts. The Master refers to Freddie as a wild animal that is in need of guidance, which is a goal Freddie simultaneously resists and aspires to throughout the film. Phoenix embodies this indecisive soul, showing the world an almost permanent scowl of contempt while mimicking the hand-on-hips stance of authorative figures like his former commander General MacArthur. On the surface The Master seems to be a superior man to Freddie, bounding with charisma and dictating the mood of every room by his presence usually in a jovial manner, however The Master himself is not immune to primal, albeit more eloquent, reactions to threats in the world. Amy Adams plays the supporting role as The Master’s wife Peggy Dodd. She heads the followers committed to The Cause, whose friendly and polite community is based on their disturbing lack of perspective beyond their ideology.

The Master is a subtle follow-up to There Will Be Blood, Anderson moves away from his explosive masterpiece of material greed and desire to focus instead on how the yearnings of the characters mix with their attempts to find a greater meaning either in themselves or for all humanity. This leads to a film fraught with ambiguity which can frustrate at times, with questions about events prior, during and after the film remaining unanswered, which is in keeping with the spirit of the story.

8/10

Looper review

Looper centres on Midwest American gangsters in the future who are using time-travel for their homicidal purposes. Quite a premise, one that transmits to screen magnificently in what is surely one of the best sci-fi films in the last few years. Looper is intriguing and occasionally moving but is above all, extremely exciting.

Looper is the third film to be written and directed by Rian Johnson and will ensure him wider recognition. Johnson has created a complex plot in a strange and sorry future setting; however the script and direction ensure that few things will go over the audience’s head, which is one of the hazards in any film with fantasy elements like time-travel. Johnson has said himself that he didn’t want the intricacies of time-travel to distract from what is ultimately a character-based movie, which is a pledge he lives up to. Most people will already understand the basic premise from the enticing trailer; a young hitman called Joe (played by Joseph Gordon-Levitt) fails to dispatch his older self (played by Bruce Willis) who is sent back in time to get killed by himself. This part of the plot takes a while to kick in but never fear because there is plenty of suspense and surprise prior to and following that scene, which I won’t spoil for you.

The film is packed with plenty of brilliant action sequences involving fighting, chasing and shooting. The violence is very bloody and frenzied, yet despite this the film’s most horrifying scene is completely bloodless but effective in showing what is at stake for both Joes. The setting is very vivid, juxtaposing retro and futuristic styles and technologies, as well as rural and urban landscapes. All these things help the film’s biggest virtue, its near-perfect pacing. While the action is certainly thrilling, it is the two/three lead characters who make it engaging. Both Joes are pursuing urgent but markedly different ends in a somewhat contrasting manner, leading to plenty of outer tension with himself. Their story becomes intertwined with Sara’s (played by Emily Blunt), a single-mother raising her son on her isolated farm. Sara is a secretive character who steadily gains the audience’s interest as her role becomes evident. All two/three are well written and performed characters that we can sympathise with even if what they do is morally questionable.

The issue of principle is one of Looper’s freshest features, departing from anything too formulaic by presenting very fuzzy ethical dilemmas without disengaging the audience. Even the main antagonists don’t seem particularly villainous or dislikeable. The mob-boss Abe (played by Jeff Daniels), reminds me more of The Dude than The Don and the cocky mob-enforcer Kid Blue (played by Noah Sagan) just appears to be above-all misguided. Indeed in this violent and anarchic future, the ethics of several actions by characters are open to discussion.

It is hard to find much to find wrong with Looper; the music isn’t particularly memorable but it does its job, there are some plot details one is susceptible to miss but they aren’t vital and our view of the future Bruce Willis is from isn’t very clear but it isn’t supposed to be because nothing is certain even if it has already happened. The future in Looper is just as opaque as our own, with a few suggestions and silhouettes about what might be. This is also reflected in the film’s originality which when combined with other virtues helps create one of the most surprising and satisfying experiences you’ll see on screen this year.

The first of the QUAD's new EPIC! film

Lawrence of Arabia is one of those classics that any filmophile should make time for and I mean make time for. With a running time of 216-minutes complete with a 15-minute intermission means it easily falls into the epic category. It is a picture from another era that revels in the vast emptiness of time and space that occupies the Arabian Desert while simultaneously focusing on one extraordinary individual at a monumental time.

Peter O’Toole arguably earns the accolade for greatest screen debut as T.E. Lawrence, a British Officer and archaeological scholar who is tasked with assisting the Arabic uprising against the Ottoman Empire. It is a gripping biopic of a mysterious figure that was immortal and fragile, kind yet cruel and reserved while displaying chauvinism. O’Tooles’s performance and presence is astounding, earning him immediate universal praise including the compliment from renowned wit Noël Coward who told O’Toole: "If you`d been any prettier, it would have been Florence of Arabia."

The cast is a terrific ensemble of stars in the making like O’Toole and Omar Sharif and established screen legends in their twilight years such as Alec Guiness, Anthony Quinn, Jack Hawkins, Anthony Quayle and Claude Rains. David Lean, a master of the small and large scale, successfully juxtaposes action with emptiness as he directs many charismatic performances within an immense landscape and a sweeping score that illustrate a journey so ambiguous yet impressionable that it doesn’t feel like it ever ends.

Lawrence of Arabia is one of the grandest examples of the epic films that typified the motion pictures of the fifties and early sixties. “You were great once” was Lawrence’s lamentation on the decline of the Arabian civilisation. While films may not have since descended into barbarism and stupidity it is still the case that Lawrence of Arabia was one of Hollywood’s last flings with films to its scale.

The QUAD’s new Epic! film night provides one with an unmissable opportunity to watch masterpieces like Lawrence of Arabia as they are meant to be seen. Only the big screen can truly capture the daunting landscape, the imposing elements and defy expectation of what is really possible.

Something you shouldn't see

Beijing’s heavy atmosphere presses down on the city’s inhabitants. The humidity grips my skin. Each breath feels coarse, somehow incomplete. I stare directly at the falling sun, its red haze incapable of straining my vision. Soldiers of the People’s Liberation Army lower their flag as another day passes, before the eyes of hundreds of tourists and locals, and under the vacant gaze of Chairman Mao’s portrait.

My family leave the square past the guarded checkpoint standing opposite the national museum. We decide to make our way to the main shopping street following signs that mercifully have English translations under the Chinese characters. We merge into a crowd making the same journey, walking through an underpass beneath the ten-lane Chang’an Avenue. Hundreds of cars thunder overhead in each direction, mixing with the voice of the crowd that echoes off the featureless walls.

We emerge on the other-side of the avenue which at a glance has suddenly become more familiar from this vantage. I stop and look out into the parallel rivers of cars, as I come to realise the significance of this spot.

I look left up the road and see a hotel on the same side of the avenue, old with balconies, a rare feature for inner-city hotels nowadays. Balconies that were once connected to the hotel rooms of the world’s press as they witnessed with their eyes and cameras the chaos of the People’s Liberation Army turning their weapons on the people who instinctively retreated from the reoccupied square. Some are cut down in the attempt.

The avenue would lay dormant for some time, nobody would venture out, the message was clear. The press stayed put too, restricted by martial law. However when the army sought to reassert their control over the city they were obstructed. A lone man with plastic shopping bags in his hands stood resolute as a convoy of tanks bared down upon him. He would not let them past. He flung his arm, gesturing for them to leave. The tanks would manoeuvre awkwardly, wriggling almost comically as they tried to shake this man off but he would keep obstructing them; side-stepping into their path, clambering over the metal beast and banging his fist on its armour in rage.

The eyes and cameras of journalists from around the world witnessed every moment of it.  What the world would see would become ingrained in their psyche, a symbol of defiance in the face of oppression. The man who symbolised it remains unknown to them all, dragged into mystery by some anonymous figures soon afterwards.

As I focus my eyes through the intertwined flows of cars to where this earth-shaking event happened its silence shakes me. I look around at the crowd of locals, indifferent to the noise from the avenue, heading in their own directions as they go about their own lives.