The Unheard Maestro

Maestro Carmelo Pace wrote over 500 compositions, survived WWII, taught Malta’s best contemporary musicians, and never left the island. Lydia Buttigieg (Ph.D. student at Durham University) writes about this elusive personality who shaped Malta’s musical landscape. Illustrations by Sonya Hallett.

Continue reading

The Conjuring — Film Review

Film ReviewNoelKrista

Krista: James Wan’s film is irresponsible for its appalling suggestion that the Salem witch hunt was somehow a justifiable massacre. The dead earnestness of those who ‘inspired’ it makes me shudder. The ‘true story’ malarkey is common in horror taglines but this movie seems more earnest about those credentials by basing its characters on real people.

Noel: You’ve got a point there. Even though the story revolves around female characters, most of them are either ghosts or victims. The true menace is motherhood itself. Even Annabelle the doll exploits maternal instinct to haunt its hosts. The ghost of the witch, despite being after the children, first possesses the mother then tries to make her kill the child.

K: Are you suggesting that the film distorts the maternal instinct?

N: Yes, as far as the witch’s ghost is concerned. That is why it tries to corrupt the other mothers. The males simply orbit.

K: That’s another thing: how seriously does it take itself? There’s the playfulness one associates with a Wan film, especially references to other horror movies, such as The Evil Dead (‘groovy’). Wan is a horro fan who indulges in it for its own sake.

N: I found The Conjuring very dark in tone, compared to Insidious, his previous ghost film. The geeky paranormal researchers play a less central role.

K: How does the motherhood bond in The Conjuring compare to the fatherhood bond in Insidious?

N: The fatherhood bond is tenuous there. The mother is most worried about their haunted son.

K: You are right about the mother being the emotional centre and her level of concern in Insidious. However, the problem originates from the father, who passes on the legacy of astral projection. And it’s the father who rescues the son. I thought the mother-son relationship was more peripheral. She tries to influence events but isn’t a moving force.

N: Off on a tangent: James Wan is such a good filmmaker. He’s confident and knows exactly what he wants to get across without resorting to boo! gimmickry. The scariest bits in the film happen with a static camera and no cuts. Just mise-en-scène — a visually artful way of telling a story. For example, the bedroom scene with the two sisters. One of them points at a ghost that is never seen. Since we’re watching a horror film, we know it’s there. And Wan sustains the scene long enough to get under our skin. Brilliant!

K: That’s true. Though in terms of unexpected shifts, these do occur often. Take that ‘odd’ devil scene in Insidious where it feels like a different horror subgenre. There are these shifts in tone and style in The Conjuring too, but it is more consistent than Insidious overall.

N: Insidious is simply superb up until the ‘ghostbusters’ appear; then it becomes goofy.

K: Though I’d take any Lin Shaye character over the Warrens.

N: I am with you on Wan’s playful approach. Honestly, I’d love to see a ‘mature’ James Wan film through and through. Given the right script, he would make a great film. Krista, could we say that The Conjuring is a second take at Insidious?

K: I agree with what you said when we came out of the cinema — that it refers back to his earlier film. Though I still prefer Insidious, because of those jarring shifts from subtle to unsubtle, which are tricky to pull off, but
somehow work. The Conjuring is certainly more polished, but I cannot quite see it as more ‘mature’ than Insidious, mainly because of its political irresponsibility.

Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman!

Book Review

 

Richard Feynman is my new idol. He’s hallucinated, he’s chatted up call girls, and he’s won a Nobel Prize. Realistically, I’ll probably only manage one of those achievements.

Surely you’re joking Mr Feynman!: Adventures of a Curious Character is as amazing a book as was Dick himself. He died of cancer in 1989, three years after the book was published.

The book is a great read and insight into his mind. It is compiled from a series of taped conversation that Feynman had with drumming partner Ralph Leighton. It haphazardly goes through his life from young radio mechanic to Professor at Caltech where he achieved most of his discoveries.

Throughout the book he randomly switches from girls, mathematics, academic life, to his adventures. This nicely sums up his life.

Take Brazil. He travelled there from Caltech during a sabbatical. There he learnt to play Samba music choosing the frigiderisa — a metal stick banged on a toy metal frying pan. ‘I practiced all the time. I’d walk along the beach […] practicing, practicing, practicing. I kept working on it, but I always felt inferior.‘ Insecurity that culminated in him walking down Brazil’s main streets, cars diverted, while his samba band made the streets dance.

“Once Feynman overcame his social awkwardness, he became a famous womaniser”

Feynman didn’t hold back his punches; if he didn’t agree with something he said it. He heavily criticised the Brazilian education system. ‘I tried to show them (students) how to solve problems by trial and error. […] I could never get them to ask […] questions.’ When surrounded by Brazil’s big shots, he said: ‘no science is being taught in Brazil. […] It’s amazing you don’t find many physicists in Brazil. Why is that?’ Magically, government listened.

Once Feynman overcame his social awkwardness, he became a famous womaniser. Girls crop up throughout most of the book. And he’s good. They would even buy him champagne and sandwiches. As most things in his life, he did it for fun and loved the game.

He writes a lot more about experiences with other women than with his three wives. His first wife’s death touched him deeply, however. ‘I didn’t cry until a couple of months later […] walking past a department store with dresses in the window.’ His other wives aren’t mentioned much.

Feynman also dabbled in drugs. He took ketamine, smoked marijuana, and might have taken LSD — denied in this book but suggested elsewhere.

He also had a short art career and managed to sell his paintings, though he lost his drive to paint by having a solo exhibition too early in his art career.

Another highlight of the book is Feynman’s colourful descriptions of the Manhattan Project that made the first atomic bomb, including how he lock-picked the project’s secrets. He also mentions his great discoveries but is incredibly humble and dismissive about his Nobel Prize — too much hassle. He beautifully describes how he came to his findings and his nervousness when meeting Einstein and Pauli.

Feynman’s genius and eccentricity is clear throughout the book. It will have you in fits. He went on all fours to sniff the world to see how much better dogs can sniff than us — apparently, not much. Life was his game, and boy did he play well.

Cockneys vs Zombies — Film Review

Film Review_NT

At a site in East London, two construction workers inadvertently unearth the tomb belonging to the late King Charles II. Upon entering the crypt, they are assaulted, bitten and unkilled by former plague victims. Meanwhile, brothers Terry (Rasmus Hardiker) and Andy (Harry Tread- away), with their cousin Katy (Mi- chelle Ryan), are planning a bank heist. The trio concoct this heinousness with a noble intent: saving their grandad’s (Alan Ford) retirement home from be- ing demolished by heartless property developers. But of course, everything goes pear-shaped when the entire neighbourhood is invaded by hordes of the undead.

Cockneys and zombies: that’s what the title promises and that’s exactly what it delivers. Given the self-conscious- ly schlocky title, you would expect a crudely-made, amateurish production,

the likes of which litter the internet. The truth is, thankfully, very different. Cockneys has quite a high production value. It’s not World War Z but footage of London enfolded in chaos and may- hem is rendered in good quality CG, as are the close-up shots of carnage.

Still, one problem with comedy zombie flicks is that they will forever be in the shadow of Edgar Wright’s masterful Shaun of the Dead (2004). Shaun was a perfect storm of comedy, horror, excellent production, inspired casting, and fortuitous timing. Just as everybody was trying to get his/her head around the seemingly dubious merits and immense popularity of tor- ture porn horror films (Saw and The Passion of the Christ were both released in 2004), in waltzed Messrs. Wright, (Simon) Pegg and (Nick) Frost who made everybody’s sides split with laughter.

Luckily, even though Cockneys vs Zombies is nowhere near as brilliant as Shaun, it still can hold its head high. Director Matthias Hoene and writers James Moran (Severance, 2005) and Lucas Roche touch upon, but don’t expand much, on the zombie-as-meta- phor angle. They just want to play it for laughs and get more hits than misses. The scene in which poor old Hamish (Richard Briers) is being chased by the notoriously slow-moving zombies is pure gold and West Ham United sup- porters can put their mind at rest that, even after death, the feud with Millwall still rages on. In an inspired scene, we are at last shown that even infants are not immune to a zombie infestation.

Cockneys is no (early) George A. Romero and does not aspire to be. It just wants you to relax, pop some corn, sip on soda, and enjoy a zombie-tour around the streets of East London.