• Hot off the presses comes a contribution from another of our new writers, Niamh Ní Mhaoileoin:

Patricia Highsmith, one of the 20th Century’s finest crime writers, is most famous for her Ripley novels and for Strangers on a Train, later adapted by Alfred Hitchcock.

In late 1948, while suffering from the chickenpox, Highsmith began her one non-suspense novel. The Price of Salt was a love story between two women, which has now been re-published under the title Carol.

Now, before any discussion of queer theory or historical significance or anything, let it be said that this book is a dizzyingly pleasurable read. It’s poetic, it’s sexy; it’s one to read cover-to-cover on a winter evening with a glass of red wine.

It begins with Therese who, in the tradition of 1950s pulp, is a green young girl who meets an impossibly sophisticated older woman and becomes overwhelmingly smitten. They meet in the department store where Therese is working and Carol is buying. In her infatuation, Therese sends Carol a Christmas card with her purchase and, in her curiosity, Carol calls her up and asks her to lunch. Sure, it’s implausible, but it’s fiction. Sometimes, only sometimes, writers should just make our daydreams come true.

That daydream is Carol. Highsmith is clearly as infatuated with her as Therese is. Carol is infused into every strand of the book; her name appears up to fifteen times per page.

The author based Carol’s appearance on a real woman she saw in a department store and her personality is the combination of the best traits of all the women Highsmith had ever been attracted too. She wrote her dream woman. In the process, she wrote everyone’s dream woman; beautiful, wealthy, hard-drinking and hard-to-get. Some people may think that the wide-eyed young Therese is good enough for Carol, but I’m certainly not one of them.

So, the serendipitous lunch begins a sublimely slow-burning romance which, of course comes with its complications. In the foreword to the new edition Highsmith described the era in which she was writing:

Those were the days when gay bars were a dark door somewhere in Manhattan, where people wanting to go to a certain bar got off the subway a station before or after the convenient one, lest they be suspected of being homosexual…

Highsmith’s biographer, Andrew Wilson, argued that Carol is an archetypal tale of McCarthy’s America and the initial buoyancy of the lovers is challenged by a vindictive husband, a private detective (it’s all very ‘50s), and a custody battle. Late in the novel, Therese suddenly becomes aware “that the whole world was ready to be their enemy.”

However, this novel is a landmark in lesbian fiction because Highsmith forces the reader to acknowledge that this is not a story of persecuted love. It’s a story of two lovers, who happen to be persecuted. She did so consciously, fighting the established tradition of lesbians in novels “who had to pay for their deviation by cutting their wrists, drowning themselves in a swimming pool, or by switching to heterosexuality (so it was stated), or by collapsing – alone and miserable and shunned – into a depression equal to hell”.

Even in a brighter time, Carol is a novel to rekindle your defiance.

Related posts:

1. Review: Just Good Friends
2. Review: Bossypants
3. Review: The Sealed Letter

Tim Jonze of guardian.co.uk writes:

If so, it would certainly fit the most recent narrative – Lady Gaga’s rise to the top of the pop tree has landed on a particularly wobbly branch during this album’s promotional campaign. First fans grumbled that the title track bore remarkable similarity to Madonna’s Express Yourself. Then disapproving voices in the gay community complained that Gaga had hijacked their sexuality as a marketing tool. So intense was the chatter around Born This Way, in fact, there was even a backlash over the artwork.

His article is riveting in its dissection of the album, but I found his judgment to be one of slightly obvious distaste for her new work, respectfully to Jonze of course. Just not his cup of tea I think. And I thought I would feel the exact same, until I listened to it.

For those of you who are already diehard fans of Gaga *nods to webmaster*, this album is nothing short of a mouthwatering aural banquet. And this is coming from a non-Gaga fan. Every track delivers with a shameless, balls-to-the-wall confidence and yanks the listener into the songworld of Gaga, whirling in tornadoes of blistering dance beats and unadulterated vocal volcanoes where her voice is never drowned out by the effects of the song. THIS is what sets her apart. She can deliver a song like ‘Scheibe’, a German-English technobaby with a rock-hard beat that you can feel shake your entire body into wanting to dance and still keeps the focus entirely on her voice, something I’ve noticed is difficult when bringing the likes of synths and steady beats into a song. With her monotonous German intro and the steady beat the first place my mind goes to is a German fetish club with the music pumping like blood through veins and the population of the dance-floor pulsing to the rhythm. It caught my attention instantly, showing that she knows exactly how to market her music.

Every track I’ve listened to has its own aural fingerprint; every song stands out from the next one, differing so greatly from the melody to the pace to the beat to the vocals to the overall feel. Songs like ‘Judas’ and ‘Government Hooker’ almost smack you in the face with their balls-out approach and obviously controversial lyrics while pulling you back in to drink up the blistering dance beats and daring you to resist the breathless need to move your body to every pulse and every throb within the song.

‘Bad Kids’ stood out starkly because the intro was so similar to something Pink would produce, and as the song begins the lyrics catch your ear and draw you in to see what this song is saying beyond the usual mad-Gaga lyrical menagerie of insane, sexually aggressive poetry. The song seems to celebrate the idea of being, well, an asshole kid who’s proud of how bad they are and welcomes the idea of blaming it all on your parents. The reason it stuck with me was that the beat and melody was reminiscent of a happy-go-lucky 80s pop song while churning out the dark and angry lyrics such as:

‘I’m a bitch, I’m a loser baby maybe I should quit/I’m a jerk, wish I had the money but I can’t find work/I’m a brat, I’m a selfish punk, I really should be smacked/My parents tried until they got divorced ‘cuz I ruined their lives’

Quite a few of the songs are swimming in influence from 80s music with their dirty saxophone solos, mild guitar sequences, overzealous synth and upbeat, poppy happy-go-lucky melodies, most of which end up being all the richer for taking such ideas and meshing them with a mind like Gaga’s. From ‘The Edge of Glory’ which conjures images of the ending scene of a movie where our beloved protagonist finally gets to be with the one they love in standard ‘run-to-one-another-and-cling-to-each-other-as-one-of-us-is-swung-around-and-we-all-laugh-along-happily’ end-of-movie sequence, to ‘Fashion of His Love’, a beautifully upbeat and uplifting piece that reeks of Whitney Housten’s ‘I Wanna Dance With Somebody’ when the chorus hits in. Both songs struck me as such wonderful additions to the album simply because they have such joyous emotion contained within them, offsetting the dirty, sleazy (yet very welcome to be on my Ipod) likes of ‘Government Hooker’, ‘Heavy Metal Lover’ and ‘Scheibe’ with their gritty, grinding beckons to the listener.

Three absolute gems on this album I found to be songs I couldn’t only listen to the once were ‘You and I’, ‘Born This Way’ and ‘Born This Way (Country Roads Version)’. Obviously ‘Born This Way’ has to be commended for the simple fact that whether or not you like it, it is in face an anthem for everyone. Although tipped as the ‘gay anthem’ by Sir Elton John and then viciously verbally torn apart by a minor section of the gay community, it has to be recognized as a standalone anthem musically. It oozes feel-good factor and shines joy and pride in big rainbows (no pun intended). It screams ‘I’m here, I’m me, I’m proud’ with every incendiary beat and every vocal explosion. It has nothing but positivity and light within its lyrics, beat, melody and core.

The variation of the anthem (Country Roads Version) is an utter treasure, something that utterly surprised me. I half expected some frightening ‘Cotton Eyed Joe’ remix of the original, bracing myself for insane banjoes and heavy beats and some kind of weird Rainbow Confederate Flag imagery. And man was I impressed when I heard what it really was. Somehow the guitars and harmonica swirl melodically with her vocals, creating this intensely beautiful, paradoxical storm of soft, lovely music that merges like heavenly lovers and makes you want to stand up proudly while still chilling out in the back.

Finally, there’s ‘You and I’. At first, you’re not sure what to make of it. It has a beautiful, bluesy country feel to it but then the heavy beat trundles in, and amazingly they complement each other so wonderfully that the song just works. This song is Born This Way’s country blues love song (strongly reminiscent of Journey’s ‘Lovin’ Touchin’ Squeezin’ with a little extra happy in there) and seems to fit perfectly together despite the obvious mixing of genres that ordinarily might never work together.

The album is a must-have, by all means. From the ‘80s pop-meets-‘00s dance meshing of songs like ‘Edge of Glory’, ‘Fashion of His Love’ and ‘Bad Kids’ to the workout-must-have definite club-hits like ‘Scheibe’, ‘Government Hooker’ and ‘Americano’, Gaga definitely ‘brung it’. Every song I listened to whisked me away to the world that was contained within and painted every scene before me with every lyric sung and every beat pumped through the speakers. It might not be the ‘album of the decade’, but it’s certainly a masterpiece in itself. Whether you adore every yelp and growl and perfectly-held high note that escapes her pouty lips or despise the noises that come from the pulsing, insanely dressed character before you, you have to admit: the woman is fucking talented.

Although I’m not a fan of her and her ideas and morals, I can certainly ignore that aspect and enjoy the music she has brought to the table with this album for what it is: pure, absolute music. Lady Gaga is a performer and a writer, a singer and a theatrical enigma that brings us these insane musical pieces straight from her intense imagination and never apologizes for it. She brings us something new, something frightening, something different and unafraid and unashamed to be that kind of different. She brings us her music, as she makes it and as she wants it to be. For that, because I don’t have a hat to take off to you, I salute you, Gaga.

Related posts:

1. Alainn or Appalling: Lady Gaga
2. Are you Gaga?
3. Born This Way?

Last week, there was performances from “Fierce”, the pole dancer I blogged about previously in the review of Strictly Come Pole Dancing (held as part of Space n’Veda every few months) as well as a dancer in a cage on the dacefloor, which proved very popular with the patrons, judging by the amount of jaws on the ground when Fierce took to the stage!

I caught up with the creator of the night, DJ Karen, for a chat about Pussy Wagon. When asked what her motivation behind starting up the night:

My motivation for doing Pussy Wagon was basically to bring something different to the women’s scene that hadn’t been done before in The George or any other Women’s night.

I also asked what makes Pussy Wagon different from other lesbian night’s out there.

I’ve brought in guest DJ’s from Brazil, Brighton, Cork and Dublin; and I’ve also provided live acts such as Lisa Maffia (of the So Solid Crew) on the opening night. Alecia Karr, the UK’s top P!NK tribute act has performed at Pussy Wagon, there have been Burlesque performances and most recently a pole-dancing show with girl dancers in the cage etc…I’m just mixing up really, instead of going to a gig with a DJ stuck in the corner…And at only €5 in after 11pm and great drink promos who could complain!!

If that doesn’t encourage Gaelick readers to hit up the next one, I don’t know what will! The next Pussy Wagon will be taking place on the 12^th of November, due to another gig in The George on the first Friday. And this one will have Jelly wrestling, which should not be missed, as well as DJ Jules from Cork on the decks.

For more information, check out:

• Facebook

• The George website

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2. Kelis in the George, June 23rd
3. Bring Your Ma to Bingo with Shirley Temple Bar

Café Paradiso – Om nom nom

By the end of this article you’ll probably think I’m paid by Café Paradiso to write this, as I genuinely haven’t had such a good experience in an eating establishment ever before. If you’d like a concise review that doesn’t rant and rave, you can skip to the end – I’ve provided a handy one sentence review. I’ve become a frequent visitor to the Cork City restaurant since I started fraternising with a vegetarian lady, but since I moved to the Big Schmoke it’s become that bit more of a trek to dine there. The 2^nd last time I made the visit, we stayed in a hotel nearby as their accommodation was full, this time however, my lovely woman’s birthday was approaching so I had the foresight to book the room right above the restaurant, and book us in for dinner that evening

Now, I am what some might call “awkward” when it comes to dining. It’s not that I’m deliberately awkward – it’s simply that my body and tastebuds have a lifelong disagreement. I’m a coeliac, and have the wonderful misfortune of also  being violently allergic to eggs-not exactly the ideal dining companion. However, I’m a good sport about it all, and will usually try and be nice through gritted teeth to ignorant wait-staff asking me if I can eat cream or offering me bread with my coeliac friendly soup (for the record, it’s just wheat, oats, barley and rye I can’t eat).

In Café Paradiso, no such long winded explanations are necessary. While some restaurants will simply point you in the direction of a dull mixed salad, and others will remove offending items, Denis Cotter and his team at Paradiso  will go out of their way to provide alternatives, and adjust their dishes to suit those with special dietary needs

I ordered deep fried squash flowers with Knockalara sheep’s cheese and capers stuffing covered in a beautiful sauce. I’m unsure as to what sauce ended up on mine as they made a different one to the sauce on the menu, but whatever it was, it was DELISH. The squash flowers were fried in a special corn flour based batter for me, and I have never tasted batter so delightfully light and exquisitely tender. The cheese and caper filling was soft and perfectly cooked, with no unpleasant lumpiness or mismatch of flavours. My girlfriend ordered the roast baby aubergine with chilli, honey and cardamom marinade – I was lucky enough to be able to eat this also, so we mixed and matched our starters. The flavour of this dish was just right, with no overpowering sweetness weighing down the starter.

Our starter portions were perfect, with us left satisfied but still eagerly looking forward to our mains.

For our main course my partner ordered sweet chilli-glazed panfried tofu with asian greens in a coconut & lemongrass broth, soba noodles (just so I couldn’t steal any! – she told me I could leave that in) and a gingered aduki bean wonton, a dish I had enjoyed in a previous visit, for which they replaced the soba noodles with rice noodles and made an alternative wheat-free wonton.

The flavour and texture of the tofu in this dish is unlike anything I’ve ever eaten. I’m not a vegetarian, but if all veggie food tasted like that tofu I would gladly give up meat. It is succulent, and full of flavour. The trick is apparently all in the marinade, and I shall be experimenting myself at home with tofu to try and achieve it. The coconut broth provides a lovely soothing panacea for the searingly spicy tofu, the noodles give a wonderful chewiness and bulk to the dish and the pakchoi offer a freshness of flavour that round out the dish. This is a wonderful meal, and the next time we visit it’ll be my turn to get it!

I ordered the braised chard timbale of roast tomato, haloumi & puy lentils with new potatoes, saffron-hazelnut butter and green beans, after which I scraped the plate clean. The wonderful softness of the timbale and its precious treasure within combined wonderfully with the perfectly cooked potatoes and the gentle sauce drizzed over them. I will add that I usually would never eat puy lentils in a fit. The restaurant has a knack of making you eat food you ordinarily would never enjoy and making you LOVE it. I’ve tried so many vegetables and herbs and types of food in there because I trust them to make the adventure and the risk worth it. The quality and the tenderness shown towards food, and each customers’ needs is extra-ordinary.

For our final course, I was given a dessert not featured on the menu, specially made for my delicate digestive system. I was lucky enough to be given a greengate plum crumble with a dollop of fresh whipped cream. The perfect sweetness of the crumble balanced the slight bitterness of the plums, and once again I almost licked my plate clean. My dessert sceptic ladyfriend ordered a fig cheesecake, and the verdict was a huge thumbs up.

We stayed the night in the café paradiso accommodation just upstairs, and the fact that in previous visits the owners and staff have been very gay friendly and unobtrusive  was a huge factor for me in deciding to stay there. The room was huge, with a double bed, couch, CD player and 3 huge wonderful windows facing out over Washington Street and looking towards the river. This is where one minor disadvantage comes into play. While I could sleep on a clothesline while World War 3 raged around me, my girlfriend found the noise from the street outside a bit of a disturbance. I was notified of this as I booked it, and I genuinely did not find this to be too much of a problem, however very light sleepers may have an issue with it.  Free teas, coffees, water and some chocolates were provided with the only chargeable item in the mini fridge being the wine. We also  received these amazing little spicy cashews nuts which I’m now obsessed with, I literally could eat plates of them. The bathroom was huge, with  double sinks, and showerheads for an invigorating morning wake-up shower.

The breakfast provided for the next morning as part of the package consisted of bread, crackers, natural yoghurt mixed with  sweet strawberries, some hot and sweet pepper jam, bluebell goats cheese and orange juice all presented in a picnic basket brought to the room while we were at dinner. Gluten and egg free alternatives were provided for the bread and crackers. The restaurant is closed on Sundays, so breakfast in the room is provided. Midweek and Saturdays the breakfast is in the restaurant dining area.

Overall the accommodation was comfortable, smartly decorated, very spacious and the staff working there were friendly and chatty while being respectful and allowing privacy both in the accommodation and at dinner.

The staff in the restaurant are well informed and seem to love the food in the restaurant also – when asked for recommendations, they were happy to give them. They’re attentive while not being invasive, and service is quick considering the complexity of the dishes and how full the restaurant always is, especially on weekends.

I simply cannot wait for our next trip there.

In terms of pricing, the restaurant is slightly expensive, but absolutely 100% worth the extra cost for the quality of food.

For the package we received, it was 100 euro each, for dinner, bed and breakfast for one night. There are other packages available and you can find out about these both on their website:

www.cafeparadiso.ie

or by calling them on

021 – 427 7939

In summary: Om nom nom nom zzzzzzzzzz Om nom nom nom nom

No related posts.

It opens with ‘Pulling the Rug’ (try not to giggle ladies), a catchy rhythm and soft, velvety-vocal bursting into the usual slap-the-thigh, swing-your-girl song-and-dance with May’s vocals taking the focus instantly with her sexy, powerful blast of the chorus, changing the song from a mere introduction to the album to a stuck-in-your-head-for-days tune. ‘Psycho’ really caught my attention with its distorted guitars and May’s vocals rough yet silky at the same time, creating a siren’s song of rockabilly standards; her voice on this track will enchant you, turning this into a must-have for the ipod when on the go.

I swear I’ve never heard another woman say ‘Hey!’, ‘Woah-oh-oh’ or ‘Ow!’ quite like her. The band create a great 50′s feeling throughout, bringing the listener into a day-dream of a stunning lady singing on stage to a crowd of swell kids, guys and girls with their sweethearts and swing-dancing aplenty to the faster tempos.

‘Kentish Town Waltz’ sets an entirely different feeling from the first three bouncy songs, bringing us into the slightly more soft-jazz side of the band, with May’s vocals lulling us completely into puddle form, undulating with softness and love and lolling on a sea of soft guitar. It creates a beautiful, almost Chet Baker feel with a feminine tweak and a country twinge to it. Stunning song, truly.

‘Eternity’ is strongly reminiscent of ‘Wake Up Little Susie’ by the Everly Brothers, while ‘Bury My Troubles’ strikes me as the ‘Heartbreak Hotel’ of ‘Mayhem’. ‘All For You’ positively oozes bedroom eyes over the airwaves, and ‘Sneak Freak’, while being a tad odd, provides much leg-bouncing, foot-tapping, bum-wiggling rhythm. Get your swing-dancing outfits out for this one, it’s positively infectious.

What enchants me most about this album is the vocals. The band are fantastic, much credit due to the instrumental lads by all means, but May’s voice is positively spellbinding throughout. How quickly she can change the style and attitude of her vocals is just amazing, and a credit to her talent. From her kick-ass old-time rock ‘n’ roll howls and squeaks (Pulling the Rug, Psycho, Sneak Freak) to her soft, smooth lulls (Kentish Town Waltz, I’m Alive, Bury My troubles), the woman can make a song simply by purring softly or growling sexily into the mic. I’ve been trying to pin down her voice but I’ve realized why she pulls me in: to me, she sounds like a female Elvis, and her ability to change from rugged and rough to kittensoft is strongly reminiscent of Presley also. If you’re reading this Imelda, that’s a massive compliment from me.

The album, a whirlwind of ups and downs (downs being simply a softer take, not anything depressing), Mayhem ends on a fantastic cover of ‘Tainted Love’, possibly the best cover of the Soft Cell synth hit I’ve ever heard. If you’re going to buy an album at all over the course of the next week, month, year, I strongly suggest you get your hands on this explosive record from Imelda May. Because, in the wise words of my sister: ‘He voice just oozes sex like!’.

Related posts:

1. Review: 4
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I’m an avid fan of being terrified. I could say “an avid fan of horror movies” but how do we even define a horror anymore? Is a good horror movie defined by its use of gore? Of obscuring the “baddy”? Of providing constant situations of “jumpy bits”? Horror nowadays seems to fall into a new genre of “Torture porn”. The more disturbed and disgusted the viewer, the more the movie is deemed a good horror. Saw has become a parody of itself with numerous sequels, all more gruesome and, lets face it, desperate than the next. Two new movies on the market are actually deemed too disgusting for viewing. These all fall under the horror genre, and the sub-genre of torture-porn.

So it came as a breath of fresh air when I saw the trailer and the idea for The Last Exorcism. Who doesn’t love a good exorcism script? Or at the very least, a good demonic script. The promise of the reviews and the trailer were of a film about a teenage girl suspected of possession, and a sceptical reverend doing his final exorcism upon said adolescent. From the snippets in the trailer, it looked to be positively brick-shitting material. And so, my sister and I, ever up for a good horror movie, went to see it.

It begins in documentary format, introducing us to the good Rev. Cotton Marcus, a prodigious child preacher grown up to be a sceptical adult who just wants to get the bills paid, and as we get further in, to show the world that exorcisms are a load of tosh. He explains how his faith became shaky after reading about a young boy who died during an exorcism, and so now, with his team of Iris (total lesbian potential, insert gay link here) and Daniel, wants to show how an exorcism is usually just a state of mind that can be cured by a great performance.

He opens a random letter and skims over it, finds his place for his final, eye-opening exorcism. He and the team head to the far reaches of Louisiana, where roads have no business and your true colours are marked by how many pieces of machinery are randomly placed around your yard. They meet Louis, concerned father who informs them of the usual symptoms of possession that furthered his suspicions. Livestock dead: check. Unusual, unrecalled behaviour by perfect victim teenage daughter: check.

Cotton gets to meet Nell, sixteen year old angel that she is, and finds out a little more about her. If the pictures done in colouring pencil of different biblical figures don’t worry you, I’m sure the Laura Ashley/dollhouse and pony toy combination will. Too sweet and polite to be true, hell yes. So the good Rev. chats to the father, then to Nell, does a test to see if she boils water with her feet (sign of a requirement of a good exorcism don’t you know) and voila, we have a keeper.

In short, he cons them. He fixes up a sound-system of demon sounds, rigs different moveable objects in the room and acts out his part perfectly. The deed is done, she’s grand, he counts his money, and he’s off to a motel nearby to rest. All’s well there anyway. Until Nell shows up, eyes all trippy and nonchalantly vomiting on herself. How she got there, five miles out of the way with no transport is curious. Not to mention that they didn’t inform her or Daddy of where they were staying. They rush her to hospital, she ends up being fine, she goes home. The Rev is still worried so he pops out to their home and we find out she’s attacked her brother. He’s rushed to hospital with daddy, and our team are left alone in house. Creepy much? Needless to say it gets worse.

What follows provides ample evidence of demonic possession and a botched exorcism. The team find three of Nell’s drawn pictures: one of a cat covered in blood, one of the Rev holding a cross to a bonfire, and one of the team dead in various ways. Team get frightened. Nell gets all loopy and drowns a doll in the bath while making bone-chillingly realistic baby screams, steals the camera while the others are sleeping and snaps her neck then goes and bludgeons a cat (naked by the way), is placed back in her room in a normal state and later is heard speaking to a male voice (which stops when the others check on her). Later on, we find out Nell is pregnant via phonecall from doctor and assumptions are made about Daddy.

Daddy comes home, Daddy is informed of pregnancy. Daddy provides ultimatum: Exorcise her again, or I’ll take care of baby. Rev plans to steal Nell away while Daddy is out praying by Mamma’s grave. Lights go out, shit gets real. Screams are heard and thrashing from Nell’s room, Rev and co. run up to help her, they enter darkened, thrashed room (because that’s a good idea) and find her atop the wardrobe glaring maniacally at Dan-cam. She’s brought down, goes mental hissing at team, legs it downstairs and ends up outside. Rev tries to calm her, Daddy shoots shotgun, terrified running and screaming into house ensues and new exorcism is agreed upon.

New exorcism happens in creepy death-barn with many tools and dead cat somewhere out of shot. Girl bends backwards and snaps neck several times, mocks Rev and co. Snaps own fingers, becomes all loony-like, but then lets us all down. It is revealed that she’s not possessed at all, but is so badly traumatised by her shame of being pregnant that she carried out all of this mental behaviour. Cut to daytime and she explains about local boy who was lovely and got her pregnant. Doesn’t seem too ashamed now. Local pastor and wife come to talk.

All seems well and Rev and co. leave. Everyone in the cinema is pissed. Rev passes local café and pops in to see father-of-baby. Father of baby is gay and only spoke with Nell once, at one of the pastor’s parties for Sunday-schoolers (yes I know). Rev is worried, they drive back to house, house is darkened and covered in occult symbolism. So now we’re all on the edge of our seat thinking “Oh shit, she really was possessed and she’s after taking out the house”. No sign of anyone but we hear screams from outside, far into the woods. Rev and co. go to woods, spy on random occult ceremony which is lead by (brace yourself) the good local Pastor. His wife is delivering Nell’s child (forcefully), and when it comes out, she pegs it into the massive bonfire which suddenly becomes demonic-sounding. Rev goes out to exorcise bonfire, team run like hell from cult-members. Team die the way it was in pictures. That’s it.

My biggest problem was that they could have done so much more, but then the last ten minutes just became this flurry of “what the hell?”. It really was like they say down five different people and said “Write me an ending for this”, took each and mashed it up into this totally off-the-wall, pointless ending. The part in the barn could have been spectacular, it could have been demonic and provide ample terror. But instead it just made it into a film about a girl who got pregnant and created this massive lie. It had no real horror after that, and when they suddenly made the baby a demon and the pastor and his crew a bunch of loony occultists out in the woods, then tried to make Nell look psychic with her drawings becoming real, it lost all respect from me. It was ambiguous to say the least, and threw out so many questions that it didn‘t feel the need to answer . I’m not suggesting you don’t go see it because of what I’m saying, but if you, like myself and my equally furious sister, were expecting greatness, stay until the barn scene becomes creepy then give up and make your own ending. This film ends badly, in my opinion, and it brought a bad taste to my mouth because it truly had such promise and offered so much potential. If you want real fear and a constant look-over-your-shoulder feeling, I suggest leaving this one alone.

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2. Review: A Marine Story
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There has been a restaurant of some sort on this spot for yonks, and it’s has changed hands a couple of times as the recession hit our palates, but So-Ho has been here for a couple of years now. It describes itself as:

Unpretentious cooking, laid back surroundings, reasonable prices, easy dining and a friendly welcome. Bang in the middle of Dublin city centre – right where you want to be.

Hmmm……maybe I should have read that before we ate there. They say nothing about the food, just that the cooking is ‘unpretentious’ and the eating “easy”. Can eating be difficult? I agree, the cooking was unfrilly, pity the ingredients were crap. And yes, eating can be difficult as it turned out.

I ordered “Roast Rump Of Lamb, with chive mash, baby vegetables, pearl onion & jus” which could be ordered like a normal meal or could be on a hot stone which would continue the cooking process as you ate, enabling you to have it meat cooked to your liking. I’m on for trying anything, so hot stone it was.

My ladyfriend, being a veggie, ordered the Wild Mushroom Risotto with asparagus. We also ordered a carafe of white as it was a warm evening. Lamb and white wine – I know! Shoot me!

So we chatted and checked out the surrounds as we waited for our meal. The verdict? Chilled-out but oddly laid-out; the first you see as you enter are stairs down to the basement, with the ground-floor seating peppered around them. It gave the impression of being seated on the landing.

The food arrived. The fun ended.

Where did they get the lamb? You wouldn’t have fed it to a dog, so full of tendons was it. The amount of chewing necessary to digest it would have given me Joan Crawford cheeks. So I spent most of the time trying to cut the meat off the them. Much to the delight of the vegetarian sitting opposite, as you can imagine. By the time I got the first edible forkful into my mouth, the “chive mash, baby vegetables, pearl onion & jus” were cold. Maybe it was the gods laughing at me for not ordering red wine, it would’ve helped to break down the meat that’s for sure.

To top all of this off, the meat and the veg were too salty. The slight over-salting on the meat wouldn’t have really pissed me off so much had it been a nice rump, m’lady. But the saltiness of the dressing on the veg was eye-popping.

And the missus? Well, her risotto was nice, not great like, but nice. Best risotto I’ve had so far is in Bel Cibo, however, according to food experts the Il Primo version is the best in the city. Extra kudos as the head chef, Anita Thoma is a lesbian on the board of the NLGF.

As for So-ho? No no.

The whole thing came to €43.50. Never again.

So-Ho on Menupages

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The IDGTF programme contains the following blurb:

The story the world must not forget. In October 1998 Matthew Shepherd, a gay twenty-one-year-old student at the University of Wyoming was kidnapped, severely beaten and left to die, tied to a fence in the middle of the prairie outside Laramie. Moisés Kaufman and members of Tectonic Theatre Project made six trips to Laramie in the aftermath of the murder and conducted over 200 interviews with the people of the town. This breathtaking theatrical collage explores the depths to which humanity can sink and the heights of compassion of which we are capable. Unabridged.

There is actually nothing I can fault about the play. The 8 actors involved gave phenomenal performances, each playing several characters throughout the production. They moved seamlessly between their characters, using jackets to symbolise which person they were playing.

The Laramie Project is quite possibly the most moving and powerful play I have ever seen. There wasn’t a single dry eye in the theatre after the statement that Denis Shepard (Matthew’s father) read to the court was read out as part of the play.

This play is definitely a must see for all LGBT people.

The International Dublin Gay Theatre Festival runs until the 15^th of May. For details on this week’s productions, download the festival programme here: http://www.gaytheatre.ie/downloads/IDGTF_Brochure_2010.pdf

For more information on IDGTF, go to www.gaytheatre.ie

Related posts:

1. Dublin Gay Theatre Festival (2-15 May)
2. Win Tickets! – Language UnBecoming A Lady

So it was with steeled nerve and ready for a challenge that I ventured to Thornton’s on St Stephen’s Green with a pair of fellow diners, to avail of their lunch menu.  The reason for my fighting spirit is that I’ve heard of the many anecdotes of leading chefs from prestigious restaurants flying into the tizzyiest of fits at mere suggestions of sprinkling salt over their creations, or at requests for extra side orders to accompany a signature dish.

Well, here was I, a recently surgeried pleb presenting myself at one of Dublin’s top restaurants with an intolerance for lipids.

Yes, you heard me.  Lipids: that is, oils, fats, butters, grease, cream, cheeses.  I’m going to restaurants unable to eat the things that actually make food TASTY.  Am I insane??

Well, I can now confirm that I am sane, and that the frightening anecdotes are entirely mythical.

When we made our reservation, the restaurant was informed that one of our group had dietary restrictions, and we were happily informed that the maitre d’ could be informed on the day.  Eek.  So, off we toddled, and mentioned our difficulties as instructed.  The maitre d’ gave us guidance as to what possible options from the set menus – lunch and theatre menu – may be available, and upon returning to our table from the kitchen, provided clarification from the chef as to what would and would not be advisable to eat according to my needs.

As it transpired, the kitchen – with effectively only minutes’ notice – was able to offer and prepare an entirely modified selection of dishes, as well as some possibilities from the set menu.  As I had had a recent upset (shall we say) earlier in the week, my fear dictated that I opt for the non-oily fish options the chef offered.  My dining partners ordered from the €25 lunch menu, plus a glass each of the house red (I played safe, opting for water). And we were go.

The starters included a generous cream of celery soup for one of my fellow diners, while the other and I received a fascinating arrangement of our respective fish starters, one (not mine) including a light creamy sauce, whipped until almost the texture of a mousse: housed in glass spheres, our starters were provided to us in what I can only describe as a smoked steam which drifted away as soon as the lids were removed. The lids were glass cones, containing a clear, delicately flavoured liquid designed to cleanse the palette once the starter had been devoured. Typically, this is served as a gazpacho, but in my case, I was provided with a clear tomato juice which complimented my fish perfectly, and set me up for the main course.

One of the mains that arrived was guinea fowl – in my newly restricted state, this meat might ordinarily be okay for me to eat, but the fowl was prepared by being rolled with a layer of fois gras. It’s also served with a tarragon cream and carrot purée. (It sounds divine, but must be my nemesis!) Another of our dishes to arrive was Atlantic cod, topped with a layer of thinly sliced potato, with a spinach accompaniment. (I was starting to feel jealous..!) My arrival was a modified version of Thornton’s fillet of black sole with parmesan crust, confit of lemon, baby courgette and parsley puréé. Mine was minus the parmesan crust, but certainly wasn’t lacking in flavour.

For dessert, my other eaters opted for lemon tart with cassis sorbet. A fan of sorbet, I was delighted to finish my meal with a selection of sorbets, arranged in alternating tangy-sweet order: raspberry, lychee, blood orange, mango and cassis. These light and refreshing flavours in our desserts are the perfect way to end a meal, and I often wonder why they don’t feature on the menus of other premises!

At Thornton’s it seems that food preparation is where art and science meet: the flavours are all fresh, delicate and perfectly balanced; the presentations are compositions of perfection. The food – the animals, fish, plants that comprise ingredients – are understood, rather than just being hunks of mass to be plated up and fed to bellies. Creativity abounds.

That being said, then, if you are in Dublin’s south city centre and hungry for a big feed, Thornton’s should not be your first port of call. Dining here really is an experience. Even the obligatory end-of-meal cuppa is transformed into a type of tea ceremony. Everything is done, prepared and presented with a purpose.

The three course meal in total for three people – two glasses of wine and two teas were additional to the set menu price – came to €100 even.

Before we left, we noticed a beautifully presented book of photography, which appeared to feature some of the framed photographs hung in the dining room and the stairs leading up to the restaurant, including one image being “burned” onto glass while retaining the transparency of the glass. The restaurant’s reservations manager explained to us that all of the photography in the book – and in the restaurant – is by Kevin Thornton himself.

The book was prepared and published by Thornton (via a publisher in Thailand), after a family member had been diagnosed, and fortunately overcame, meningitis.

The book is on sale from Thornton’s restaurant for €80, and proceeds go to Temple Street Children’s Hospital.

All of the staff during our visit were entirely accommodating and extremely helpful – front of house, with seamless and efficient service, helpful advice and information on the photography and book; and in the kitchen, who went beyond the call of duty, preparing an entire meal for a woebegone diner.

Thornton’s is owned by Muriel Thornton and Kevin Thornton.

thorntonsrestaurant.com
128 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin
Reservations: +353-1-4787008

thorntonsrestaurant @ eircom . net

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Last night, UCD LGBT Society hosted their annual Alternative Debs night in the Copper Alley club in the Arlington Hotel. This is UCD LGBT’s biggest event of the year, and is open to anyone who wants to go. Tickets were a steal at €10, with all the proceeds going to charity. In the past, the charities have included the Irish Cancer Society, Aware and Seomra Spraoi, among others. So, we got to have an amazing night for a good cause, and those are always the best nights.

The idea of the Alternative Debs is that it’s the debs YOU always wanted, not what your school said you could have-as in with the Alternative Debs you can wear whatever you want and bring whoever you want… So, I wore a suit and brought a girl, which was a huge change from my own debs when I had to wear and dress and bring a guy. And at home, if you didn’t have a boy to go with, you simply didn’t go! And asking someone to it was tantamount to a marriage proposal…Thankfully, this debs is a bit more casual, and way more fun!

Outfits last night varied from tuxedos to suits to debs dresses to pyjamas! And I’m pretty sure there was one guy going for the pirate look. Prizes were given out for Best Dressed, Most Alternative, and Debs King and Queen.

The DJ was fantastic, with music ranging from current chart hits to 80s and 90s, which kept this writer very happy…especially the group air guitar session for Don’t Stop Believing!

It was a fantastic night, and well done to UCD LGBT for organising such a fun event.

For more info on UCD LGBT, check out:

http://www.ucd.ie/lgb/

http://www.facebook.com/#!/group.php?gid=108875377800&ref=ts

Related posts:

1. Alternative Miss Ireland 2011
2. Alternative Miss Ireland XVII 2011 Preview

So it was with a mixture of nerves and well, nerves, that I went along to see Kevin Tancharoen’s new incarnation of this little classic. The 2009 version boasts a cast which includes the wonderful Bebe Neuwirth and the talented Charles S. Dutton not to mention the films saving grace, Megan Mullally, who will always be close to our gay hearts. OK, so far so good! However, I’m sorry to report that that’s where the good stuff ends. The rest of the cast, the students, are not as talented as those who play their teachers, I can only hope that they learned more from them off camera than their characters did in the film.

The film opens with the auditions, all the way through of course you are saying to yourself “well that one won’t get in, talk about ham acting” and then you realise it’s not the character who can’t act, it’s the actor playing him/her. It’s a long time since I’ve seen a cast like it, the elder statesmen and women must have wondered what was going on as they tried to put a little emotion into the piece whilst surrounded by a group of young people who were simply out of their depth.

To be fair, they weren’t helped by a script that was lacking in everything. There was no character development of any note, no meaningful relationships of any kind and not even a decent dance to tap your foot to. As the “story” progressed you became less and less interested in what was going to happen to the characters and as they came face to face with serious issues you found yourself wondering why you can’t take your time eating your pick-o-mix cause now it’s gone and you’re bored.

Over all I’d say this is a film to be missed. If you like the idea behind it then watch the original, this one adds nothing to it and will just put you in bad form.

You can watch the trailer here if you don’t believe me;

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I have heard the George referred to as the “Purple sticky fun bar”, which I think is about as accurate description as one could ever give. Or, at least it was until their recent redecoration!! My first night out on the scene took place in the George, and talk about being thrown in the deep end! From Dyke corner to the Drag Queens, as a young lesbian fresh from the wilds of Roscommon, I didn’t know where to look. Since then however, it has slowly become a second home to me.

So what is it about the George that we all love to hate? Everyone constantly moans about it, yet ends up there week in and week out. So this writer felt it her duty to go out every night and investigate (yes, it makes me feel better when I have a semi-legitimate excuse!) I will be reviewing each night individually at a later point, as I know that the mood and crowd depends on the night in question, but for now, let’s take a step back and see what the bar is like in general.

What was previously a dark, purple, closed looking bar, since the redecorating, The George seems to have doubled in size. There are two floors in the pub, with two bars, one on each floor. A tip: If you get thirsty on a busy night, go upstairs! The cloakroom is located upstairs, alongside the “green room”, which serves as both a quiet-ish seating area and as a dressing room for the drag queens on any night that the drag show is on. As the night goes on however, it can sometimes end up as couple central.

The bathrooms are also located upstairs. Now, obviously I’m just going to deal with the ladies. If you can’t see the sign, go for the one that doesn’t smell of poppers!! There are about 6/7 cubicles, and most of them have locks, which I appreciate in a toilet stall. They are useable most of the time, and always have toilet paper, as they are checked regularly. This is a major plus point in tabula rasa’s mind. To add to the appeal, there is a wonderful selection of graffiti and poetry to read while you’re in there. It can be a great way to find out who loves who (in case you care) or even for a wonderfully mad list of reasons to vote No to Lisbon! The downside of the bathroom is that there are only 3 sinks, which can be hard to get to when the bathroom gets busy, and the fact that there is only one, very weak, hand dryer.

Downstairs has the dance floor, the stage, seating area and the main bar. The bar staff in the George are a very friendly bunch, and can work really fast. I never fail to be impressed with just how many people they can serve at the same time, which is great when you want a quick 7up between songs!! There is a great selection of drinks, and what with the recession and all, they have some great drinks deals. These include €4 pints, or two cocktails for €10 on certain nights.

Entry fee is charged some nights, but as a general rule, it’s free before 11. Which is a good time to be in by anyway, if you want seats or a half-decent standing position. The music is quiet until the show or dancing time each night, so it’s also a good place for a quiet chat (up until a point!)

I wouldn’t recommend coming here for a first date, unless you’ve been somewhere else first, because a) You’re bound to meet into someone you know who will be oblivious to the fact that you’re trying to impress a lovely lady and will accidentally become a third wheel, b) you’ll discover that they don’t like to dance/hate loud music/what have you or c)Everyone you have ever gone out with will be there…So I recommend a quiet drink somewhere first, and then perhaps give it a whirl!

There are loads of women out most nights, especially Wednesdays and Sundays, so it’s definitely a change of pace from the likes of Pantibar, which as much as we love it, can be very male dominated most nights.

The George doesn’t serve food, but the bar is located very close to Juice (Dublin’s only sit-down vegetarian restaurant, which is lesbian central, so could be a good place to eat before your night out!!
The George is located on South Great George‘s Street, Dublin 2. For more information on The George, and special events they run, check out www.thegeorge.eu.

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If the answer to any of these questions is “Yes” then Jimmy Chung’s just might be for you! (Now, don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about: every town in Ireland has at least one of these establishments. Ours was Wongs or – *shudder* – the North Ocean take away. The girlfriend’s was The Embassy.)

One of the latest restaurants belonging to the Scottish chain, Jimmy Chung’s, opened on Eden Quay, Dublin, about a year ago. Last night, the girlfriend and I paid our first visit after earlier spending a busy hour solving a tricky homicide cold-case in the Ambassador. Having worked up quite the appetite, the idea of an all-you-can-eat buffet for Eur17.90 sounded perfect, so we set off down O’Connell Street, avoiding gangs of yoofs, junkies and loud Spanish students.

When we entered the restaurant, we were greeted by a smiling maitre d’ who quickly showed us to a table for two near the buffet. Glancing around, we took in the open airy space which was three-quarters full. After ordering drinks from the full bar menu (one pint of Bulmers and a bottle of Tsing Tao beer), we took it in turns to visit the troughs.

Hungry as we were, we went all out and helped ourselves to starter, main course and dessert. The ladyfriend ventured up first, and returned beaming and triumphant, with a plate heaped full of all sorts of deep fried delights. I did likewise. The selection of starters is extensive, including chicken satay sticks, chicken balls, spare ribs, sesame chicken toast, wan ton, vegetarian spring rolls, crispy aromatic duck with all the trimmings.

For our mains, we sampled a little of everything. She had sweet and sour chicken, chicken satay, Cantonese style crispy duck, “special” (ahem) curry, topped off with lashings of egg-fried rice, prawn crackers, and that Chinese delicacy, chips – as only Irish Chinese take aways can do chips! I had pork in honey sauce, beef in black pepper sauce, Mongolian style lamb, with plenty of prawn crackers to mop up. These are only a small selection of what’s on offer, so a perusal of the menu is a must.

With just a teensy bit of room left in the tums, we considered the dessert options. Before our visit, I had heard of their ice-cream machine (you remember? From the ’80s? Wot produced 99 cones? It’s true!), so I promptly grabbed a bowl and bumped a young child out of the way to get to it. I – what’s the verb for this? – poured out (?) my ice-cream and slathered chocolate sauce on top, as did the misses but with raspberry sauce. So, the dessert was basic but good. There were, however, cakes and pineapple fritters on offer (*shudder*) but we were beginning to get that post-Christmas dinner feeling so had to admit defeat.

As we tucked in to the meal, I noticed that nary a Chinese customer were to be found in the premises. Jimmy Chung’s has a menu and style of food that is wholly catering towards typical Irish perceptions of Chinese food: the more gloop the better!

Bearing that in mind then, the food generally is high in taste, but in all likelihood low in nutritional value and authenticity. The secret ingredient in the “special” dishes could well be buckets of MSG; who is to say? Jimmy Chungs is not the place to find authentic Chinese cuisine (head to Parnell Street East for proper Chinese food at great prices), but if you’re an Irish ’80s kid looking for a good, inexpensive slap-up meal before heading out on the town, there is plenty to recommend.

While we were there, the staff were busy yet attentive, and always on hand for fresh plates and fresh drinks. Including two beers and one pint of Bulmers, our bill came to Eur44.50.

Jimmy Chung’s website
Jimmy Chung’s on menupages

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Situated in the heart of The Italian Quarter, Enoteca Della Langhe is a great little spot. The menu is limited to cheese, salads and cold meats, sorry charcuterie, during the evening, with a more extensive selection for lunch.

If you like your food fresh, simply-prepared and served by friendly, cool as cucumber Italian waitrons, this is the place for you. It’s perfect for a quick bite before heading to the pictures, or a chin wag and a bitch about work.

On the menu you’ll find both cheese plates and charuterie, or both, in various sizes from €9.50 which are served with a generous basket of good crusty bread and a some delicious Italian honey. There is also the choice of various Crostini – toasted bread with seasonal toppings.

The rustic feel is so genuine that I often go in, have some bread and just pour the olive oil on it. Their olive oil is some of the best I have ever tasted; nutty and not too oily on the tongue.

Their salads are small, side portion sized, but made from the best of ingredients. I love their Caprese  salad (€6); big, scarlet, juicy tomatoes served with milky mozzarella and some basil leaves. Simple, but with such simplicity there is no place for mistakes and I have never found one.

Another favourite is the Breasola, with delicious cured beef and rocket – a snip a for a fiver.My only complaint here is that, with two such strong flavours, something moist to offset them would be perfect.

Here I have gone on and one about with food without mentioning the wine. The choice of wine, chosen by Enoteca’s loving owner, Mick Wallace, is vast. The walls are covered with shelves of bottles which you can take down and purchase to imbibe there or take away. There is also an excellent menu of by-the-glass choices.

One of the best things about Enoteca Della Langhe, however, is the staff. They are polite, pleasantly offering considered advice on wine choice. I particularly enjoy how they are with each other. This is more than just a wine bar/cafe, Enoteca Della Langhe is more like an Italian community centre with people coming and going greeting each other kisses and shouts, bringing an energy to the place which is just as enjoyable as the what’s on the menu.

Enoteca is super gay-friendly. Myself and the missus have often gone in for a glass of wine only to watch it turn into a bottle (or more) and, as a result, get a little bit loved-up. Not an eyebrow is raised. I think if there were ever any homophobia present in the place, Mick Wallace would rip it out asap – it just doesn’t feature in his vision of enjoying life after work.

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The tale is of a group of former heroes, well vigilantes really, who had to disband when a federal law was enacted outlawing masks.  However, now it seems that someone is making it their business to murder the watchmen one by one.  The film stars Patrick Wilson, Jeffrey Dean Morgan and Malin Akerman as well as an unrecognisable Billy Crudup.

It’s not that the acting is poor or that the film is made badly it just didn’t grab me.  I think I’m getting old, I found it hard to follow and gratuitously violent – there – I said it.

Also, the make-up was terrible. Robert Wisden as Richard Nixon has the most ridiculous make-up I’ve ever seen.  It’s 2009 for god’s sake, surely they could have done a better job.

I have to say I didn’t really care what happened as the story was unfolding and as one character made a speech about how some things never end I found myself wondering if the film would ever end.  Jackie Earle Haley’s performance as Rorschach was the highlight of this film for me, he was compelling in every scene.

It’s just my opinion but I wouldn’t recommend this one at all.  There are plenty of other good films out there to go see, I for one am looking forward to the new Wolverine film, let’s hope that doesn’t disappoint as this one has.

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If you’ve read the book or seen a trailer, you’ll be forewarned that this is not a feelgood film… effectively it’s a claustrophobic two hours witnessing a marriage and the America dream dissolve, and despite good performances and beautiful cinematography there are times you’d wish Winslet and DiCaprio had gone down with the Titanic, rather than having to accompany them in their kitchen, bedroom or car as they relentlessly hurl abuse at each other. This discomfort and claustrophobia is all part of Mendes artistry, he is also a renowed theatre director – and there’s quite a theatrical feel throughout in the stucture and weighty lines:

April Wheeler: Tell me the truth Frank remember that? We used to live by it. And you know what’s so good about the truth? Everyone knows what it is however long they’ve lived without it. No one forgets the truth Frank they just get better at lying.

April aspires to an acting career, but instead has a tantrum following a cringe-worthy amateur drama performance in a local school hall. Frank’s not sure what he wants – he fell into a job at the same firm that his father anonymously toiled in for 20 years, and he bides his time bored at his desk or sleazily seducing young secretaries from the typing pool. So far the Wheelers are thoroughly unlikable – utterly absorbed in themselves and their marriage- and when they pause in the shrieking, they deliver earnest tracts about the nature of their relationship:

April Wheeler: I wanted IN. I just wanted us to live again. For years I thought we’ve shared this secret that we would be wonderful in the world. I don’t know exactly how, but just the possibility kept me hoping.

To this end, on Frank’s 30th birthday, April hatches a plans that the family move to Paris – she’ll work to support them while Frank figures out what he is meant to do with his life. Meanwhile their neighbour and realtor Helen Givings (Kathy Bates), who considers them the epitome of a perfect young couple, asks them to meet with her psychiatrically troubled son John (Michael Shannon – a performance well-deserving of his Oscar nomination, and he has all the best lines!) John is the true radical, honest and free of the social inhibitions to prevent him from commenting on the sham he sees before him:

John Givings: Hopeless emptiness. Now you’ve said it. Plenty of people are onto the emptiness, but it takes real guts to see the hopelessness

This ‘hopeless emptiness” of the suburbs and the empty conformist life is central to the film, and clearly the intent of the novel- radical for its time- as Richard Yates comments in a late interview :

I think I meant it more as an indictment of American life in the nineteen-fifties. Because during the Fifties there was a general lust for conformity all over this country, by no means only in the suburbs – a kind of blind, desperate clinging to safety and security at any price, as exemplified politically in the Eisenhower administration and the Joe McCarthy witch-hunts. Anyway, a great many Americans were deeply disturbed by all that – felt it to be an outright betrayal of our best and bravest revolutionary spirit – and that was the spirit I tried to embody in the character of April Wheeler. I meant the title to suggest that the revolutionary road of 1776 had come to something very much like a dead end in the Fifties. 
 

This is where the film has come in for some criticism… In Mendes’ film, does April Wheeler encompass that revolutionary spirit? Is she a brave visionary - a feminist eschewing the conformity and vacuousness of being a mere ‘wife’, not unlike the character of Betty Draper in Mad Men or Laura Brown (Julianne Moore’s character) in The Hours? Or is she hysterical, vain and ultimately too selfish to be a mother? Clearly she is meant to be the former, but at times the part seems disappointing and underwritten.

Winslet is excellent as April - beautiful, tragic- embodying that ‘special’ quality that the Wheelers aspire to. Aside from her overcooked Golden Globe acceptance speeches, and -if they are true- some shockingly idiotic press quotes (like claiming she had to get drunk for a lesbian kiss in Jane Campion’s film Holy Smoke “I wasn’t drunk to the point of falling over, but it really helped me to find out what I needed to do for the scene.” Ahem, try acting Kate? Anyhow she should have had plenty of practice from her first film Heavenly Creatures!), she is an exemplary screen actor who picks interesting, challenging films and rarely hits a wrong note! She’s having a great year, between this and The Reader and is nominated for an Oscar for the latter- her sixth Academy Award nomination so maybe this year? Interesting Sam Mendes, also Winslet’s husband, claims he read the Revolutionary Road screenplay first because Kate wanted to play the part!

Leonardo DiCaprio is another matter entirely… maybe I just don’t like him? As an adult actor, his boyish features bore me and I find him  petulant and irritating.  I know with Frank Wheeler, Leo is intentionally mannered and false- as he’s playing a part of someone acting a role, if you’re with me!- but he’s just so dull! In fact the only guffaw I had in the entire film is that line which also appears in the trailer..

April: Frank Wheeler I think you may be the most interesting person I have ever met.

 Much has been made in the press of the chemistry between the two leads, and every still released by the stuio seems to have them in an embrace – but in keeping with the novel, it is the distance between them which is most striking. From Yates’ perspective:

There’s a great deal of dialogue between them in the finished book, both when they’re affectionate and when they’re fighting, but there’s almost no communication.

I hope I haven’t put people off the film – it is a well-made, moving and intelligent questioning of 1950s consumerist, conformist values, that permeate society in so many ugly ways today. And there’s plenty of plot I haven’t touched on for fear of spoilers. As an aside, its two perfunctory sex scenes (approx 7 seconds each- cut to plaintive unfulfilled look from Kate) are as good a slur on hetrosexuality as the shrieking fights are on loveless marriages! 

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We ventured back to Nancy’s recently with my parents, had a lovely pint and chat downstairs before we ventured up to the restaurant area. I was looking forward to the food because a) I was staaaaaaarving and b) if the bar food looked this good, the restaurant food would be delish.

The restaurant was empty but for one other party, which didn’t bother me as it this was a Wednesday night. I should have listened to the warnings.

We were seated by an efficient, if slightly bored, waitress and handed our menus and wine list. I chose a wine and was informed they didn’t have it. Fair enough, no bother. We ordered our food and I chose something else for us to quaff. The menu in Nancy Hands is restricted enough, but that’s usually true of a place that doesn’t want to throw out slops. The wine menu, it has to be said, is expensive by usual standards.

We decided to go straight for mains, much to my mam’s delight at cracking ‘straight’ jokes. I ordered Lamb Cutlets encrusted with herbs, served with roasted beetroot & fondant potato, my partner chose the Vegetarian Gnocchi with ricotta & pine-nuts, served in a roast cherry tomato sauce, my dad is an Irish man of a certain age so of course went for the steak and my mother, the Fillet of Sea Bream grilled & placed on wilted fennel with a anise flavoured broth.

We sat and chatted and chatted….and sat and waited….and chatted. No food, no service, nothing. Now, fair enough, you have to wait for the food to be cooked but 40 minutes? Had the company not been so entertaining, I would have been livid. I mean come on we’re bringing the parents out for dinner! Who wouldn’t want everything to be perfect?

The food arrived. Lord. I think they waited 20 minutes just so my lamb would be perfectly tepid; awful. I had been asked and requested it medium, I got warm and well done.

It was my partner’s gnocchi that took the biscuit though. Gnocchi is potato pasta, should be light but have  a more doughy consistency than usual pasta. This? This was awful, just awful. I can only describe it as feeling like risotto. In the mouth it fell into rice-like mush. I looked and looked but there was not a sign of a pine nut. And it was covered in a tomato sauce that tasted as if it came from a certain Uncle Ben or Aunt Dolmio.

My parents both insisted that their’s was delicious. But then we were paying, so what could they say? Having said that, they finished every morsel, so maybe myself and the little lady were just unlucky.

For dessert my mother had Ice cream with Passion fruit sorbet. It was ok if a little watery.

All in all the bill, with two bottles of wine, came to a rip-off €190. I have eaten much, much better for much, much cheaper.

Obviously on the night, I didn’t go on about how disappointed I was as it was a lovely night with my parents. But I’ve been livid about the place since. How can you charge €25 for cold lamb and €18 for awful, awful gnocchi in a plastic sauce?  I meant to check the bar menu and see if it was the same as the restaurant’s, but forgot.

Nancy Hands is a lovely bar, it and the restaurant look gorgeous – all walnut, leather and old brick work. Unfortunately there is a reason people are staying away in droves. Never again.

Nancy Hands official website

Manu Pages

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The play centres around Sir Robert Chiltern, who is a rising young star in British politics. He seems to be the titular idea, however he has a secret. Said secret comes back to potentially ruin his marriage to Gertrude, a woman who has him on a moral pedestal, not to mention his career which could be in tatters.

Sir Robert’s best friend, Lord Goring, is the typical Wildean character; uttering such lines as “To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance” and “vulgarity is simply the conduct of other people”. He is an absolute joy as, when the play develops, so does his character. He begins as the dandy, entertaining all who surround him and ends the play as a hero, a man with a definite concept of right and wrong.

An Ideal Husband can be enjoyed on a surface level. However, go in with the knowledge of what happened to Oscar Wilde and it becomes something much more intriguing. Oscar loved his wife dearly. Indeed he often said the greatest tragedy of hs life was what the Bosie scandal did to her. He was a devoted husband and father, but with a dirty secert just like Sir Robert in An Ideal Husband.

The flippant nuggets Lord Goring spouts with an air of frivolity, are weighty with the pain Wilde was feeling. It is telling that a couple of the most famous lines of the play are; “One’s past is what one is. It is the only way by which people should be judged” and “We have all to pay for what we do”.

So, it is a bitter sweet play, hilarious yet poignant.

This production is without reproach. The acting is top notch and no money has been spared on costume and design, but it is the direction which really took my breath away. The transition between acts is a joy, with stage hands dressed as maids changing the scenery as a butler watches over them. It’s a real treat accompanying a play which is a delight in itself.

An Ideal Husband continues until September 27 at The Abbey.

Links (open in new window):

An Ideal Husband

The Abbey Theatre

Oscar Wilde

Pic used is from the Abbey’s website; no infringement is intended. If it needs to come down, just let me know and it shall be done.

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Everyday

Will & Grace -Still making us laugh 10 years later, still should be called Jack & Karen. Living 7pm and 1am

22Monday

Law and Order SVU – Nothing too gay here but look at Mariska (left) – holy gorgeous butch Batman! TV3 at 10pm

The Good Shepherd – Slow-moving, heavy-handed tale of the beginning of the CIA in America. Matt Damon is badly miscast in the main role but the sapphic interest here is Miss Angelina. Yumm! She’s not in it enough, but when she is radiates. As usual. Sky Movie Drama at 5.10pm Sky Movies Drama at 8pm

Mr & Mrs Smith – Brad who? Film4 at 9pm

Boys Don’t Cry – If you haven’t seen this heart-breaking account of the last days of Brandon Teena, here’s your chance before they take your queer-card back. Hilary Swank is charmingly charismatic as Brandon. Sky Movies Drama at 10.45pm

23Tuesday

Nigella Express- Food porn as Nigella Lawson (right) shows us how to entertain. The minx. BBC2 at 7pm.

Maverick - Jodie does comedy. Cringe. Sky Movie Comedy at 10.40am and 5.50pm

The Hunger - Susan Sarandon and Catherine Deneuve getting it on? Hell yeah! The Hunger has dated true enough, but it’s a classic. TCM at 9pm

24Wednesday

Rick and Steve: The Happiest Gay Couple in All the World - Although America’s gay sweethearts (Rick & Steve) and America’s lesbian sweethearts (Kirsten & Dana) do not get along at all, they decide to have a baby together. Steve is jealous that the lesbians prefer Rick’s sperm, so he comes up with an alternate plan – with the help of Pussy the cat. Synopsis from imdb.com. E4 at 10.30pm

The L Word - Jenny meets the only other person in the world who thinks she can write; a publisher played by Sandra Bernhard. Channel 6 at 11.35pm

25Thursday

The Virgin Daughters - Documentary examining the phenomenon of young American women who pledge to stay virgins until they’re married. Some even refuse to kiss until wed. Sounds like they’re all lesbians to me! Film4 at 9pm

She’s the Man – Recent teen movie which has a young queer cult-following. The always-charming Amanda Bynes plays Viola, a girl who dresses as a guy and then falls in love with some poor, unsuspecting bloke. Not highly intelligent but enjoyably gender-bending stuff.Sky Movies Family at 8pm

26Friday

A Few Good Men- It’s all about the uniforms. Jodie was supposed to play the role which was eventually filled by Demi Moore; travesty.Sky Movies Drama at 5.40pm

Cruel Intentions - The film in which Sarah Michelle Gellar kisses Selma Blair – nothing else going for it really. Sky Movies Drama at 10pm

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It’s difficult to describe the plot but stick with me. Nan and Grace are actresses in a play about Countess Markievicz, in the parts of the countess’s sister, Eva Gore-Booth and Eva’s lover, Esther Roper. The director, who also plays the countess is Katherine, Grace’s lover.

As the three run through the pages of Katherine’s play, questions are raised about things as trivial as sound effects and as profound as the nature of herosim, the importance of lesbians in history and who, ultimately, is the rebel – someone who wears khaki and gets put in prison, or the person behind the scenes who writes to officials, fights for the rights for the fogotten and works tirelessly for the hopeless?

The three actresses are excellent, comfortable in their roles and aware of exactly what the play is doing. Gina Costigan, as Grace, stood out for me. At the start she seems the weakest but grows throughout the piece, becoming more confident and allowing herself more of a voice. Clever, as this is exactly what her character is about – as Eva, she is under the shadow of the sister she loves and, as Grace, she is over-shone by Katherine. It’s with the help and encouragement of Nan that she steps into her own, which mirrors Eva exactly. Away from her sister Eva was a force to be reckoned with, a worker for social justice, a writer of plays and poetry and a voice listen to by those around her.

The direction of The Countess and the Lesbians is good too. If the plot seems colvoluted as you read this, it’s directed with an ease and fluidity which makes it a pleasure. The only thing that rankled for me was the intro – a video piece to get us to know that this is a play with a play. It was good, and I can even forgive the tATu song, it just went on too long. However, once that was over things got better and better.

The Countess and the Lesbians is a fascinating deconstruction of a time of Irish heroism, posing questions you’ll be talking about for days afterwards.

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