Johnskibeat's Portfolio

Film: The Bank Job

2008-03-03T10:09:00.004Z

Hanging off the bones of the true story of the ‘Walkie Talkie Robbery’, The Bank Job covers the tale of a gang of petty thieves and their attempts to tunnel under a bank vault whilst a ham radio enthusiast listens in on their transceiver conversation with their trusty look-out.

Jason Statham stars and he plays to type stamping his own version of butch and cockney onto everything. Butch and cockney - that could sum the film up to be honest. I keep expecting Jack Regan or Gene Hunt to pop up and yell something about putting one’s knickers on. It’s ‘Ocean’s Eleven’ set in grimy seventies London. It’s a humourless ‘Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels’ and yet it drifts between a smack in the face and a friendly punch on the shoulder; from overwhelming seriousness to smiles and joshing. It’s confused about where it belongs - a visceral true portrayal of facts or a comedy crime caper - and, consequently, refuses to flow freely.

With the sub-plot of an implicated Royal Family, a desperate Whitehall, and a horde of bent coppers the film flounders between the various criminal activities leaving you lost about exactly who the good guys are. Yet, it’s not all bad. It’s well-acted with Daniel Mays, as gang-member Dave, and David Suchet, playing an extremely vindictive crime lord, both shining. Also director Roger Donaldson manages to create a good deal of tension by utilising a combination of clever angles, bleak settings and rapid cuts. Throw in an understated yet insistently pulsating soundtrack and a script full of deception and there are many reasons to keep watching. Ultimately that big pay-off arrives but there is quite a long sequence of frustration to endure. Watch it for the true story element and not just because it’s another heist movie.

© John Clarke

Commissioned by Local Secrets online magazine...

Film: Be Kind Rewind

2008-02-29T09:02:00.005Z

A large percentage of cinema-goers who will see the Be Kind Rewind trailer before deciding to see the film will certainly be caught off-guard by this. What initially appears to be another plain old slapstick comedy turns into something far more interesting. Good old Michel Gondry, he’ll always keep you on your toes.

It’s all fairly straightforward. Mr. Fletcher (Danny Glover) owns a run-down video store and he leaves his loyal employee, Mike (Mos Def), in charge while he takes a few days off to work out how to fend off the threat of imminent closure. Mike’s error-prone friend, Jerry (Jack Black), subsequently manages to wipe every single videotape clean by magnetising himself whilst attempting to sabotage the local power-plant. The only way to keep the customers happy is for the hapless pair to film their own versions of the tapes with surprising results.

Sounds like a goof-a-thon, right? Well, partly. Certainly whenever Glover’s character is off-screen it’s a barrel of laughs. Mos Def and Jack Black surprisingly make quite the comic pairing. Cue the hilarity as a sudden horror-movie soundtrack plays with the duo pulling agonized faces as they realise the tapes are all blank. Throw in the neat effect of the whole cinema screen warping and fizzing with static as Black approaches and you’ve got comedy gold. Melonie Diaz’s character adds another dimension as they all set about shooting zero-budget remakes of ‘Ghostbusters’, ‘Rush Hour 2’, ‘King Kong’ - whatever the customers ask for. Director Michel Gondry refused to allow his stars to view the original films before they shot them which might explain why the subsequent mayhem has a particularly random flavour to it. Black, for instance, had never seen ‘Driving Miss Daisy’ and his dismal portrayal of the lead character leads to some clever on-the-spot scripting or possibly witty improvisation by his fellow actors. Each of their quick-fix films features ingenious ways of pulling off those famous scenes - the use of a cement-mixer to recreate the ‘Men In Black’ tunnel car-chase is a fine example of what’s on offer.

On Mr. Fletcher’s return, however, there’s a sudden lull in events. Glover’s character is the father figure embodying the gloom of the financial state of the store. It doesn’t appear to be intentional but his re-introduction effectively instantly changes the impetus of the film from comedy to sentimentality. Despite the anti-climactic feel to subsequent events it brings with it a change of pace, a chance to re-evaluate and inject warmth into the film. Suddenly the importance of the town, its heritage and its people are of higher importance and with the main characters established it gives us a different picture entirely.

In the final analysis there are parts of the plotline that remain undeveloped and there’s a patchy understanding of realism but then, like Gondry’s past films, those things have never been high priority. You could watch this bitter-sweet, and surprisingly quirky, film for many reasons but I feel, perversely, you may end up disappointed by the very reason for which you went.

This website is well worth a peek at. From here you can view trailers of all the film remakes the cast did: http://www.bekindmovie.com/

© John Clarke

Commissioned by Local Secrets online magazine...

Important News

2008-01-22T09:06:00.000Z

Hi folks. Thank you very much for your continued interest in my blog. All your comments and subscriptions are very much appreciated. Now that I have a large enough number of music reviews, me and my colleague are creating a dedicated music site called Sonic Dice to house them in. It's actually looking pretty damn nice and is well worth visiting! This blog will remain open and I'll continue to add all my other reviews (including movie reviews) from time to time.

My new music website can be found at http://www.sonicdice.com.

Film: The Darjeeling Limited

2007-11-21T10:55:00.000Z

Hotel Chevalier, the short film before the main event, was first shown at the Venice Film Festival and has since been gracing the small screens of digital music players far and wide. It’s a pretentious and unnecessary pre-cursor that introduces the character of Jack Whitman (Jason Schwartzman) as he woos his ex-girlfriend (Natalie Portman) into bed. One can’t help but suspect that Schwartzman’s co-writing credits included this whole scene for his own good.

Thirteen minutes of posturing and pouting and thankfully the main show begins. It’s an intriguing tale of three Whitman brothers, who’ve drifted apart since the death of their father, and their journey of spiritual enlightenment to find their errant mother (Angelica Huston) through the colourful backdrop of India. Each brother has his own set of neuroses that he brings to the melting pot. Jack is quiet and often thoughtless, Peter (Adrien Brody) has many insecurities and Francis (Owen Wilson) is overwhelmingly controlling.

Cut to the bare bones, it’s basically Wes Anderson doing a buddy road movie. He’s as clever as ever in his attention to detail and the framing of his shots is excellent - often a character will be missing from the crop only for his head to fill the small remaining gap as he leans in to deliver a line. The beautiful landscapes of India have been captured in a multitude of vibrant blues, oranges and reds. The slow pace of the film suits its surroundings but it does tend to blunt the impact of certain scenes.

It’s a film that both delights visually and infuriates emotionally in equal measure. The inert and meandering script can leave one feeling rather detached from events. With actors like Bill Murray and Owen Wilson on display there is a smattering of humour, even if it is rather black humour, which lifts the oppression albeit briefly. Ultimately, The Darjeeling Limited is certainly not going to be, ahem, every one’s cup of tea.

For fans of: The Royal Tenenbaums, The Life Aquatic, Rushmore

Film: 30 Days Of Night

2007-11-09T12:43:00.000Z

Adapted from the graphic novel by Steve Niles and Ben Templesmith, 30 Days Of Night whisks us to Barrow, the most northern town in Alaska. Bleak, barren and freezing, only the hardiest of souls can survive in such an environment. As the sun falls below the horizon for the last time for 30 days, the first of many brutal killings alert the townsfolk that they’re not alone.

Eben (Josh Hartnett), the town sheriff, is handed the task of protecting his own and in the middle of the mayhem he manages to get as many as possible holed up in a hidden attic from where they view a killing spree initiated by a large group of particularly brutal Nosferatu hell-bent on the town’s complete annihilation. “Their heads must be separated from their bodies. Do not turn them”, drawls head-vamp Marlow (Danny Huston).

The director, David Slade, has made a good attempt at translating the grim novel from page to screen and employs some clever camerawork in places. The overhead pan as the vampires attack their victims is particularly effective; a bird's-eye view of bright-red blood stains on pure-white snow, gun shots fired aimlessly, and dark figures fleeing and chasing; an eerie detached way of viewing the carnage. Unfortunately, he subsequently allows the continual doom and gloom to suffocate the film without respite.

There are some particularly gruesome effects and, in places, the make-up work is terrifying. Danny Huston’s is particularly effective as he’s transformed from everyman into the worst kind of walking nightmare. Barrow's isolation from the world certainly comes across well as it slowly becomes a ghost-town, resembling scenes from a Western only with snow in place of dust.

The casting of Josh Hartnett is both a blessing and a curse. He’s particularly adept at depicting the off-camera horror in his face but, in general, having a well-known actor for the lead detracts from the impact of the film. Ben Foster, bringing a particularly nasty evilness to his role as The Stranger, and Mark Boone Junior (Beau Brower) were both deserving of more screen-time.

It’s, at first, a particularly intense and effective vampire chiller, but eventually it ends up overwrought, wallowing in its own bleakness, and lacking in innovation. The final nail in the coffin is the ending which is both rushed and inconsistent. Those 30 days have passed and I still haven’t seen the light.

© John Clarke

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Film: Death At A Funeral

2007-11-07T14:56:00.000Z

The easiest way to describe this film is to imagine ‘Four Weddings & A Funeral’ without the weddings. It’s a character-driven funeral farce that draws a large proportion of it’s comedy from the determination of the English stereotype to keep a stiff-upper lip under the most extreme of circumstances.

Daniel (Matthew Macfadyen) is desperate to move into his own place with his wife, Jane (Keeley Hawes). When his father dies his mother (Jane Asher) is unable to cope and they are left to organise the funeral for a whole bunch of dysfunctional family members and friends.

With each family member we are introduced to another unwelcome character trait and, in turn, another twist to the fiendish plot emerges. Andy Nyman puts in a notable performance as a downtrodden and insecure hypochondriac who’s determined to be the centre of attention without causing offence; whilst Rupert Graves should be applauded for his serene portrayal of a painfully selfish brother for Macfadyen to bounce his character off. However, the majority of laughs are reserved for Alan Tudyk and his incredible range of facial acting skills as he brings the torment of a featherweight’s first experience with narcotics to life. “Why are my hands so… big?” he whines, so kick-starting another chorus of audience laughter.

Frank Oz directs and his consummate comic timing and pace are very much in evidence as he weaves Dean Craig’s savvy script into shape. There are moments when the humour becomes clichéd but it’s not so distracting as to diminish the impact of the film. The one thing that makes this stand out from many of this year’s comedies is the fact that it never takes itself too seriously. It’s just a clever and outstandingly witty British film, big on modesty and delightful in delivery.

© John Clarke
Commissioned by Local Secrets online magazine...

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Film: Mr. Woodcock

2007-10-05T15:20:00.000+01:00

Having watched the trailer you’d be forgiven for thinking this was simply a late addition to this summer’s generous helping of Hollywood slapstick comedy. Instead, the film surprises by serving up more of a meandering gentle whimsy with a subtly different take on growing pains.

The plot is fairly straight forward. John Farley (Seann William Scott), bullied as a pupil by his fearsomely strict gym teacher, the Mr. Woodcock (Billy Bob Thornton) of the title, is now a household name having written a book on self-help. As a consequence, his hometown wants to honour his achievements by giving him an award. Upon his return, however, he finds his mother (Susan Sarandon) is dating his old gym teacher and sets about trying to tactfully make her see the error of her ways.

With such a straightforward set-up you’d imagine things to jolly along quite nicely but unfortunately the film doesn’t seem to know what it wants to be. It is part-black comedy, part slapstick and part-love story. It’s further hampered by the limited acting range of Scott. His angry face comes across as indignation; his determined look has a vague umbrage about it; and his miserable face, I’m afraid, is pure resentment. [Note: For the full range please consult a thesaurus]. The poor chap has been typecast to death and when he’s given a lead role and asked to perform a whole host of emotions it’s beyond him and the film suffers as a result. To be fair, he is acting alongside Oscar nominees. One of whom, Billy Bob Thornton, has been given a completely one-dimensional character with the whole script being written around his robotic lack of feeling. This whole persona leaks into most scenes creating a sterile background off which Scott is expected to bounce. Unfortunately the duo just doesn’t manage to pull off any of the weak humour and, as a result, the film becomes a limp, tepid affair, short on jokes and long on filler.

The only reasons I can find to watch this movie is if you ever need to kill 90 minutes or you’ve already watched it a few days earlier and have forgotten the plot; and that would be understandable for it is instantly forgettable.

© John Clarke

Commissioned by Local Secrets online magazine...

Film: Michael Clayton

2007-10-03T09:36:00.000+01:00

Lurking behind a somewhat uninspiring title hides the story of a law firm’s fixer who ends up with one too many irons in the fire. We already find Michael Clayton (George Clooney) an underpaid divorcee with a gambling problem and now his drug-addicted brother has left him penniless and without a safety net. Unsurprisingly unhappy with his lot, he had been seeking a way out by buying up a bar but can no longer pay off the unsecured loan on it. As it transpires, the law firm are in a generous mood as they need him more than ever due to their chief litigator, Arthur Edens (Tom Wilkinson), suffering a nervous breakdown. Edens had been assisting an agricultural company in their six-year long battle against many plaintiffs, but his discovery that the company has been knowingly selling harmful pesticides to customers causes him to flip out and begin compiling a case for the opposition.

It’s such a brilliant directorial debut from Tony Gilroy that you wonder if Sydney Pollack, being a master director of just these kinds of thrillers and incidentally playing the role of Clayton’s boss, didn’t pass on just a few tips. The opening and ending scenes are bold atmospheric shots of New York. Be it a Manhattan skyline or the back of a taxi cab. They’re mood and scene-setting, creating a sense of despair and foreboding – they flirt with pretentiousness but with the rest of the film so bleak they aren’t out of context. It’s impressive stuff.

The acting performances are quite brilliant, with Clooney as an intense, dark and sincere Clayton, and Tilda Swinton playing a beleaguered legal executive weighing up her job against her morals with a raw, ragged and emotive performance that should win both many plaudits. Wilkinson is an utterly convincing ‘Shiva, god of death’ as his character battles the inner turmoil of his sudden change of circumstance with the joy of a child and the foreboding of a crazed lunatic.

The low-key and surprisingly anodyne script is what lets the film down with several confusing and seemingly unnecessary inclusions to an otherwise simplistic storyline. The legalese is cut down to an acceptable minimum but unfortunately it also allows the gritty edge to blunt somewhat when the viewer should be caring more for it’s characters. These things plus the sudden and somewhat unspectacular ending detract from the impact of all the good earlier build-up work. It’s still a highly watchable and classy thriller but it may not be to everyone’s tastes.

© John Clarke

Commissioned by Local Secrets online magazine...

Film: I Now Pronounce You Chuck And Larry

2007-09-27T15:16:00.000+01:00

New York firefighters, Chuck and Larry, are best friends and everyday heroes. When the recently widowed Larry (Kevin James) realises that, in the event of his death, his children will be left with nothing he takes drastic action. He asks Chuck (Adam Sandler) to enter into a domestic partnership to protect his kids and save any loss of benefits. Later he discovers the legal implications and the two friends have to convince an obsessed and intrusive fraud investigator (Steve Buscemi) that they really are gay lovers.

The opening scene features Chuck and Larry saving a man from a burning building. It allows the viewers to clearly see their individual nuances and also their aggressively macho relationship. Amidst the most serious of situations there is plenty of room for laughs which promises much for the rest of the film. Unfortunately, from here it all descends into a series of ridiculously outlandish situations which rarely raise so much as a titter; some of which are actually painful to watch.

Characters are lampooned, the straightforward becomes unrealistic, strong women are undermined, all for the sake of an easy laugh. Every single homosexual stereotype you can possibly think of sits proudly at the forefront of this film’s script – yes, there is a soap-dropping scene. To go to such lengths to emphasise each plotline isn’t necessary. The viewer doesn’t need their faces rubbing in it to understand the ruse.

There are certainly several cameo performances that salvage some credibility and these are worth looking out for - Ving Rhames, playing a mysterious fellow firefighter, is one in particular who manages to wring out a few laughs – but overall there is a definite case of miscasting big names simply for big box office takings.

Somewhere buried deep beneath the Hollywood schmaltz lays a heart-warming story of how the most insecure of people can accommodate the most insane of lifestyles all in the name of friendship. It’s such a shame that all the accompanying buffoonery, leading to an overlong running time, ruins this perfectly decent premise.

© John Clarke

Postscript: In August 2007, the Sydney Morning Herald reported that Shana Levine, one of the producers of the 2004 Australian film, Strange Bedfellows, is considering filing a copyright-infringement suit against the Chuck and Larry producers. It appears that both films are about two firefighters who pretend to be homosexuals in order to take advantage of tax benefits for gay couples. Watch this space!

Commissioned by Local Secrets online magazine...

Film: Superbad

2007-09-17T12:36:00.000+01:00

Following weeks of hype and rave reviews I was expecting Superbad to be something more than just a puerile teenage comedy. The 70’s kitsch opening titles, parodying the I-Pod adverts, was certainly a good starting point but everything after that left me more than just a little disappointed.

The film comes from the team that bought us ‘The 40-Year Old Virgin’ and ‘Knocked Up’ and features three nerdy sexually-frustrated high school students. Seth, Evan and Fogell, keen to impress on their peers just how cool they can be, set about procuring alcohol to impress girls. I’d love to say that the writers have a vastly more intricate script but it really is that one-dimensional.

Seth (Jonah Hill) is one of the least likeable characters with few morals and zero standards. He’s quite prepared to risk death to have sex and believes that getting girls drunk will force them to make errors of judgement allowing him and his friends into their beds. “We could be that mistake!” he exclaims. Evan (Michael Cera), despite being Seth’s best friend, displays a charming quality by trying to impart sensible advice whilst avoiding confrontation. It’s a difficult balance trying to keep his friends happy and impress his beau and he’s constantly battling all sides. Here is where the heart of the film lies but unfortunately the directors have allowed it to be bludgeoned by the others antics. King of the geeks is Fogell (Christopher Mintz-Plasse) who manages to draw the most laughs as he gets himself a fake ID and ends up taking a wild ride with two bad cops, one of whom is actor/writer Seth Rogen, who are keen to have nothing but a good time with their new buddy.

The constant Hollywood barrage of films featuring ugly men and beautiful women has never been displayed in such poor contrast as here. How we’re expected to believe the pairings is beyond me and immediately throws any credibility out of the window. Having said that, credibility was never likely to be part of this film’s blueprint, with the target audience being of such limited scope.

Superbad is mainly all about substituting profanity for jokes - believe it or not, there are 186 uses of the F-word. It’s crying out for a sequence of humour without any crude content but unfortunately the only respite we get is brief glimpses of Evan, minus Seth, trying to extricate him from difficult situations, and the idiotic cops trying to prove just how stupid they can really be. I’m afraid I have to report that, in this reviewer’s humble opinion, Superbad really is superbad.

© John Clarke

Commissioned by Local Secrets online magazine...

Film: 1408

2007-09-10T10:08:00.000+01:00

Samuel L. Jackson, playing hotel manager Gerald Olin, leans conspiratorially inwards, dangles a key in the air and whispers, “It’s an evil f***ing room”. This is the film’s defining moment and a perfect summary of the horror contained within room 1408 of New York's Dolphin hotel.

Mike Enslin (John Cusack) is an honest and heartfelt writer who becomes bitter and twisted after the death of a loved one. His marriage breaks down and he finds himself travelling from hotel to hotel experiencing, and then systematically ridiculing, the supposed hauntings in each. He publishes the best myths rating them on mystery and intrigue alone never believing that any of them could be true. That is until he stumbles across the closed door of room 1408.

As we watch the lock mechanism twist painfully slowly from closed to open the viewer is thrust into a claustrophobic nightmare of visual and mental plot devices. The first few minutes spent inside the room are the most terrifying, when the possibilities are endless and the tricks are both canny and surprising. Enslin is quick to bat these first few away admiring the manager’s persistence to perpetuate the room’s myth with hidden props. When it becomes apparent that things have gone beyond reason the only options left are to find an unobstructed exit or descend into madness.

Cusack’s charisma and quirky acting style enables the evil of room 1408 to take form as it attacks his character’s tortured mind with remorseless energy, borrowing heavily from similar scenes in The Shining and Sixth Sense. The terror on his face throughout is gut-wrenching and holds everything together. Sadly, with the script being adapted from Stephen King’s all-too-short story, the film suffers from being rather drawn out with several overcomplicated threads ruining the tempo and patiently-constructed claustrophobia. These have probably been inserted either for variety, or, as the first few audience tests suggest, because of film studio interference. There is a sad air of inevitability about many of the sequences and second guessing the plot isn’t difficult. Thankfully the film only runs to 94 minutes so it doesn’t drag too much and the open-ended finale is clever, if a little confusing.

There is much to admire here despite the film’s flaws with fine acting performances, some clever computer imagery, and a simple, yet genius, plot. It sits nicely alongside many of Stephen King’s adaptations without troubling the best of them, yet certainly surpassing the more recent efforts.

© John Clarke

Commissioned by Local Secrets online magazine...

TV: Heroes - The Early Episodes

2007-08-23T14:53:00.000+01:00

Hot on the heels of 24, Lost and the C.S.I. phenomenon comes Heroes, the latest American TV series to sweep the world, dominating TV ratings wherever it lands. Superheroes, in general, are pretty big business in 2007. Their stock has risen hand-in-hand with the advance of detailed, believable, computer-generated imagery. Suddenly, Superman really can fly, Spiderman really can swing, and Batman is no longer the pantomime dame. So, there is no better time to unleash a TV series featuring a ragtag collection of new superheroes than now.

The real genius of the story is Heroes creator and executive producer, Tim Kring. He’s managed to capture all the things that make great viewing whilst avoiding the usual pitfalls that kill off most series in their infancy. The first few episodes are a series’ make-or-break moments. Introduce the action too quickly and the show will burn out, usually through it's lack of character depth. Start out too slow and it’s a yawn-fest. To achieve this he has given us imagery that burns bright. Comic-book art and camera-work; clever snapshots of what’s to come; characters that intrigue, each with their own rich, dark and complicated history; entwined plot lines introduced from different perspectives.

The heartbeat of these first few episodes has been Kring’s masterstroke. He’s admitted that Hiro Nakamura was the final character he created and yet with Hiro he’s introduced the one missing, but essential, element to the storyline - humour. Played by the brilliant Masi Oka, Hiro, is the last piece in the jigsaw. He is the one with the most awesome power and yet the one who embraces his talent with a childlike joy. It’s in such contrast to the bitterness and recrimination with which the other heroes deal with their powers. They feel like freak shows and have a tendency to bury themselves with their fears.

Revealing as little as possible, Hiro wields the power to bend the space-time continuum and discovers a terrible future lies in store for humanity. It is in Peter Petrelli (Milo Ventimiglia) that Hiro confides this horrific reality. Peter is the one other character who seeks the truth no matter what, bringing to mind character elements of both Spiderman’s Parker and Matrix’s Neo, and as the cast begin to find one another the series really lifts off.

It seems inconceivable that from this point Heroes can fail. So much is reminiscent of successful sci-fi entertainment past. Star Trek, Firefly, Donnie Darko, Spiderman, Matrix, Battlestar Galactica. This along with all the referencing to modern life keeps the viewer riveted, constantly guessing then reassessing. If you’re not already involved then Heroes comes highly recommended. If you’re way ahead of me I trust it’s everything you wanted it to be and hopefully more.

© John Clarke

Film: The Bourne Ultimatum

2007-08-17T13:12:00.000+01:00

This is the cinematic equivalent of lighting a high-power repeater firework and having the director strap you to it before you can retreat to a safe distance. It’s insane and it’s the Bourne Ultimatum. The third and final instalment of a trilogy that has raised its genre’s bar to new heights, completing what has been an adrenaline-fuelled rollercoaster ride of emotion through the murky world of government splinter cells, high-tech surveillance and assassins aplenty.

The plot follows along the lines of the previous instalments. C.I.A. official, Noah Vosen (David Strathairn), is a man on a mission to destroy anyone who threatens the secret identity of an illegal government project. This includes killing Jason Bourne (Matt Damon), an assassin suffering amnesia, who needs to reveal the truth so that he may put his fractured and tormented life back together. Vosen’s colleague, Pam Landy (Joan Allen), is determined to separate right from wrong and along with C.I.A. Operative, Nicky Parsons (Julia Stiles), they provide uneasy allies for Bourne as he battles an organisation that wields more power than ever before.

This truly is a brilliant film but it’s been built upon decidedly shaky foundations. By this I mean the director, Paul Greengrass, has taken the scattergun approach to film-making and employed the documentary, fly-on-the-wall-style of camerawork throughout, with fidgety shots and rapid-fire cuts. In the quieter moments it’s nothing but distracting, whereas during the action sequences, despite sacrificing information left, right and centre, it’s stunning. We’re in the head of Jason Bourne now and this means when he steps into a scene, we are the ones scanning the area for the nearest way out. We’re the ones seeking out a weapon in case of attack. We’re the ones with sweaty palms.

Here’s just the briefest of examples. Quick-pan left to an out-of focus uphill shot of an empty alley; spin right to shaking image of a distant street; zoom and tighten frame as two policemen career round the corner at the foot of the hill; zoom out, drift up and zoom in to juddering close-up of an open window above street level; pull out to over-the-shoulder shot of a house number, then a series of flashed images: a frame, a door, an exit.

Combine all this with John Powell’s relentless musical score across the most action-packed car-chase or fist-fight scenes, or the simplest coffee-shop conversation and the tension is ramped up to unbearable levels creating a decidedly uncomfortable viewing experience.

Be it lying low in a crowded London train station, dashing across the rooftops of Tangiers, or tearing through New York City in a police car, Jason Bourne makes a fascinating travelling companion and Matt Damon has laid his character’s tortured soul bare for us. This time he’s darker, colder and more ruthless in everything he does. Julia Stiles’ deliberately restrained performance amongst the dizzying action is perfect, and David Strathairn has never been more vitriolic and revels in his role of bad guy.

The Bourne Ultimatum should come with a health warning. I had to peel myself off my seat at the end and it was a relief to get back to the mundane. Something simple like picking out the lumps of seat cover that had somehow got rammed beneath my fingernails.

© John Clarke

Commissioned by Local Secrets online magazine...

Eating out: The Zebra, Cambridge

2007-08-13T09:19:00.001+01:00

‘Do you fancy going for a Polish?’ isn’t exactly a phrase you hear being uttered too often, but thanks to Ralph and his wife Ania, the proprietors of the Zebra pub on Maid's Causeway, you could be hearing it a lot more around Cambridge.

The Zebra, a gentle stroll from both the Grafton Centre and Midsummer Common, has recently had a menu makeover and now boasts Polish cuisine ranging from simple soups to interesting pasta combinations - many of which can also be served as a vegetarian option. This all sits alongside traditional English dishes, such as bangers and mash or filled jacket potato, and on top of that there’s a comprehensive pizza menu. So there really is something for everyone.

The pub is filling up nicely with both the young and old as we arrive for an early evening meal. The atmosphere is relaxed and the background music isn’t overly intrusive. The place is clean and neat and there are large and small tables to choose from. We’re keen to try the new generously-priced Polish food and it arrives promptly, courteously, and is both neatly plated and full of colour.

The zurek (potato and sausage soup) is hearty, slightly spicy and moreish and comes with a fresh baguette and butter. Our party also tries the goulash, the perogli (pretty pasta parcels filled with meat in a tomato sauce) and the golabki (meat and rice baked in cabbage parcels with a tomato sauce). All these main courses are accompanied with a salad replete with fruit and vegetables. The golabki filling is spicy and wholesome but the sauce rather overpowers the delicate cabbage. Of the three dishes the perogli was deemed the tastiest with a particular favourite being the excellent beetroot puree that accompanied it.

As we finished the proprietor popped back to check that everything was to our satisfaction and he was able to expand a little on how well the Polish menu was going down. Apparently, Monday to Thursday lunchtimes are the least busy but his staff are run off their feet in the evenings of Thursday to Saturday with both English and Polish clientele enjoying the food. When asked about where the idea for this bold new menu had come from, he replied, ‘Having got married in Poland and sampled many of their traditional dishes, my wife and I believe that the Cambridge residents will enjoy it’. With most of the main courses costing around a fiver, and the food a welcome deviation from the standard pub fayre, he may well be right.

© John Clarke

Commissioned by Local Secrets online magazine...

Film: Evan Almighty

2007-08-07T15:08:00.000+01:00

The lights dim and it’s all aboard for this crazy 21st century Noah’s ark saga as we join Steve Carell, currently Hollywood’s favourite comedy son, reprising his role from 2003’s hugely successful Bruce Almighty. He plays Evan Baxter, TV reporter turned Congressman who is visited by God (Morgan Freeman) and instructed to build an ark causing upheaval to his blossoming career and family life.

It’s quickly apparent that the storyline is scattergun at best and ludicrous at worst. Imagine The Santa Clause without Christmas. Carell, who shone so brightly playing the goofball in Anchorman and Little Miss Sunshine, finds his light vastly dimmed when put in the role of responsible parent and politician. His character’s decline into apparent madness is laboured and, at times, ineffective. Worst is the film’s tendency to veer from the simple to the overcomplicated in consecutive scenes making it pretty tough to digest.

In contrast, there’s the computer wizardry on display. Reportedly pushing $200 million, it’s the most expensive comedy ever made. This statistic alone is mind-blowing. To spend so much money perfecting the look of the film is criminal when you consider just how poorly scripted it is. As the film progresses, we’re subjected to long sequences of turgid dialogue followed by a visual feast of computer-generated animal mayhem, all ending with a glorious poster-perfect money shot. It’s a great series of images but that’s really all it is and this may explain why the trailer appealed so much.

Despite all these negative points, the film still has its moments – Morgan Freeman has his mischievous God down pat now - and at the end the smile on my face told the real story. In particular, keep an eye out for the nod to Hitchcock’s The Birds and the hilarious dancing cast as the credits roll.

Evan Almighty is a wholesome family film, heart-warming, and with a strong message promoting family values and the importance of environmental concern. Considering the younger audience to which it is quite clearly aimed it seems strange that they didn’t push harder for a Universal certificate considering how close they came.

© John Clarke

Commissioned by Local Secrets online magazine...

Sport: Oxbridge Engineering Sports Day 2007

2007-08-06T15:56:00.000+01:00

Every year unbeknownst to the outside world there is a colossal clash of great engineering minds. It features Cambridge University Engineering Department trading blows with the Oxford University Department of Engineering Science and, over the course of a day, one great establishment overcomes another across a range of sporting events - golf, softball, punting, cricket and tennis.

In recent years there have also been unofficial events played alongside those recognised. This year the spare places on the Cambridge coach are taken up by football-crazy engineers hell-bent on humiliating their Oxford rivals despite the lack of a trophy to recognise the feat. I am one of those determined few.

Oxford is hosting this year’s event and we arrive in their fair city on the stroke of noon. A connecting bus is caught to the Brasenose Sports Ground following lunch and we find our opponents already in full kit warming up – an ominous sight.

There’s only time for a quick warm-up and team-talk and then suddenly we’re off. Oxford start brightly with quick passing and some intricate dribbling, but Cambridge defend strongly and find space down the wings for the strikers to attack. It’s a real game of cat-and-mouse until disaster strikes. Our defensive midfielder, Chris Cassidy, goes in for a tackle and comes away with a badly twisted knee and has to go off. Oxford very sportingly loan us one of their substitutes, but as our lynchpin limps off the game opens up for Oxford.

Within ten minutes Oxford go 2-0 up as their striker proves too speedy for our ageing defence. He beats the offside trap and runs clear to round Cambridge’s otherwise excellent goalkeeper before slotting his second in off the left-hand post. Unbowed, we continue to raid down their weaker left side and get a well-earned free kick around the edge of the penalty area. The defence pour into the box and, as the kick curls in, yours truly manages to get a glancing header on target to reduce the arrears. Game on.

As half-time approaches, the older Cambridge legs start to creak and Oxford goes for the jugular. Two raids through the middle and one killer counter-attack lead to three easy goals and as the whistle sounds for the break it’s a miserable 5-1 score line.

Drinks are taken and soothing ointments are applied to sore areas. A quick change of formation leads to our striker being redeployed in defence and in the first few minutes this seems to blunt Oxford’s attacking prowess. Although, in hindsight, it may the fact that it had started raining, making the ball more difficult to control, may have had more to do with it.

Then, lo and behold, Cambridge start to dictate the play and pepper the Oxford keeper with shots. Goal-line scrambles and some clever defending at corners keeps the Cambridge side out but they are not to be denied. A foul on the edge of the area follows and Cambridge front man, Meshal Almane steps up and hammers it low past the wall and through the keeper’s outstretched arms to reduce the arrears.

From here both defences stand firm with both goalkeepers excelling with fine saves. As the minutes tick away, and with the rain now bucketing down, both sides become more conservative. Dribbling skills fall away as legs tire and the passes begin to shorten. The final whistle sounds with the score at 5-2 to Oxford.

Hands are shaken and cheers for each side are chanted vigorously. There are even beers waiting for both winning and losing sides in the changing rooms. Cambridge Captain, Tim Nichols, praises the Oxford team before thanking his players. “I was chuffed with the work rate, team spirit and ‘never say die’ attitude of my players. We kept battling and challenging for every ball right up to the final whistle”. All agreed it was a thoroughly enjoyable game and that next year the football should be repeated and become an official event in the Sports Day programme.

The coach arrives soon after and we’re all transported back to the University Club for the presentation of trophies where we learn that Oxford have won all the events save the tennis. They therefore take the Wroth Trophy as overall winners and are roundly applauded before all those present tuck into the delightful buffet that Oxford have laid on. A thoroughly successful and enjoyable day is had by all.
© John Clarke

Click here to see my review in the Local Secrets online magazine...

Film: Transformers

2007-08-01T10:23:00.000+01:00

Cambridge’s Local Secrets review begins with “The first 32 years passed without incident. Then I saw Transformers in 2007 and my life was changed forever”. The Times had a slightly different viewpoint and eloquently described it as the equivalent of director, Michael Bay, “beating his chest and waving his penis at us for a couple of hours”. The truth lies somewhere in between.

This movie is an absolute orgy of stunning computer effects. It’s simply jaw-dropping stuff. It succeeds in this where the latest Star Wars efforts failed simply by displaying just what is possible when you unite the best visual director in the world today with a lot of money and a genre like science fiction.

For an hour I gaped in awe as it built from everyday human events into a national crisis with an unseen and unknown enemy, attacking with a force and intensity never witnessed before on Earth. Everything was buzzing along nicely as the evil Decepticons asserted their dominance and then the holier-than-thou Autobots landed and Optimus Prime, their leader, opened his big fat gob. In an instant, I realised the movie I was watching wasn’t going to finish the good work it had started. The payback never came.

It’s actually quite easy to see why it came to this. Michael Bay simply tried too hard to tick all the boxes. You cannot create a movie based on a set of kiddy toys who come packaged with their own simplistic and incomplete back story and hope to ever produce something that pleases the children that played with those toys, the geeks who have latched on to the character cult status, and the movie buffs.

The basic premise of good robots versus evil robots is completely bang-on the money. Where it fails is the human element. By making the robot effects so awesome, Bay has overcompensated by making the human reaction try to equal it. You simply can’t do it without losing the credibility. The stunts are obscenely complex, the vehicles are spotlessly shiny and the sets just get bigger and less realistic.

The result is the movie equivalent of a tag-team wrestling contest between Terminator 2 and The Rock versus 2 Fast 2 Furious and Matrix Revolutions. One minute it’s the best disaster movie ever, the next it’s a lad’s wet dream. Go and see this by all means, but when you turn off you mobile, remember to do the same with your brain.

© John Clarke

Clubbing: Generator @ Kambar, Cambridge

2007-06-29T13:29:00.000+01:00

Following five days hard labour, the weekend is finally here and what better way is there to let off steam than to dance until you drop? Tonight's club of choice is Generator at the Kambar located opposite the Corn Exchange Box Office.

A quick look on their website reveals that the Kambar is housed in a Grade I listed building made up of beams salvaged from wrecked sailing ships dating back to 1624. In its long history, the building has been used as a butcher's, a tea shop, private housing and a restaurant.

Tonight it's a nightclub run by husband and wife team, Richard & Sue Reynolds, and a very successful one judging from the number of revellers inside. Kambar regular, DJ Neil Ogden, is on the decks playing a mix of punk, pop and rock. The music ranges from oldies like Velvet Underground and Joy Division, through The Smiths and The Cure right up to present day anthems from The Killers and The White Stripes.

The décor isn't quite what you'd find in any other nightclub, mainly a dirty brown, with most of those ship's beams still poking through, some coated in anti-vandal paint, and the furniture looks like it fell off the back of a lorry. Then there's the bar which is replete with cans, not a pint glass in sight. Shots come in those little plastic cups you get out of vending machines.

Some may go so far as to describe this place as a "dive" but this place isn't short of supporters. In fact a good share of tonight's clientele pay the Kambar a visit at least once a week to let their hair down. The alcohol is cheaper than most of Cambridge's other clubs (I heartily recommend the Sex On The Beach), the music's treble isn't drowned out by the bass, the entry fee is a mere £3, and there's no dress code (barring the ridiculous).

Song of the night goes to The Cure's "Just Like Heaven" which has me bouncing around linking arms with smiling strangers. I think this may be the moment when I understand what the Kambar is all about - being yourself. I spend half the night slumped in a bean-bag tapping my foot to the music and chatting with friends, and the other half throwing shapes to all my favourites. All because that's just what I felt like doing. I'll certainly be back to do more of what I feel like in the future.

© John Clarke

Commissioned by the Local Secrets online magazine...

Film: Shrek The Third

2007-06-29T13:13:00.000+01:00

This third instalment of the saga of the lovable ogre begins with the newly-weds, Shrek (Mike Myers) and Fiona (Cameron Diaz), filling-in for the ailing King of Far, Far Away (John Cleese). As he weakens further, the King asks Shrek to take his place or find Arthur (Justin Timberlake) the only remaining heir to the throne. Unwilling to relinquish his dream of returning to his swamp with his bride, Shrek heads off with faithful sidekicks Donkey (Eddie Murphy) and Puss (Antonio Banderas), leaving Fiona and her royal friends to guard the castle.

Meanwhile, Prince Charming (Rupert Everett), having been humiliated in Shrek 2, is determined to make his own "happily ever after" and recruits a band of ne'er-do-wells to storm the castle so enabling him to claim the throne for himself.

So begins the kind of adventure that we are now used to seeing in the Shrek films. This one is easily as good as the others with its usual smattering of toilet humour and rapid action sequences, all displayed in glorious animated form. In fact the computer-wizardry is even better than before. Lush forests, lapping waves and even mirror-reflections are nigh-on pixel-perfect.

The audience tonight mostly comprises parents and their kids and there are very few moments that don't raise a chuckle or shriek out of one of those groups. The Gingerbread Man's "extra jelly-tot" gets the biggest laugh out of the kids and Pinocchio's "not lying" scene tickles the adults the most. Again, the humour is pitched perfectly to suit all ages.

Just when you feel the writers may have ran out of ideas they throw in yet another twist, such as when Merlin (Eric Idle) uses magic to teleport Shrek and friends back home, only to have Donkey and Puss exchange personalities with inevitable hilarity. There are moments of musical genius too - watch out for the Frog Chorus singing "Live & Let Die" and the Snow White (Amy Poehler) version of Led Zeppelin's "Immigrant Song".

The only notable criticism I have is Arthur's transformation from puny school-kid, who even the geeks bully, to brave and noble hero seems a little sudden to be believable. Despite this flaw, the character is instantly likeable, if a little slow-witted, and by the end the audience are all rooting for him. Certainly the choice of Justin Timberlake to voice the character is bang on the money and his portrayal of the sullen teen is believable enough to keep poor Shrek on his toes.

This may be the last we see of Shrek, save for the odd TV appearance (Dreamworks' are currently filming a half-hour TV special called "Shrek The Halls" which is due in early 2008), but this film has already done enough to make the smelly green giant one of the most successful animated characters of all-time.

© John Clarke

Commissioned by the Local Secrets online magazine...

2007-06-27T13:14:00.000+01:00

If I said I was playing in the Copyright Cup would you know what I was talking about? The name needs some explanation I feel.

Well, several months ago now eleven librarians from the National Library of Scotland (NLS) went in to their closets and each removed a pair of old, battered and, no doubt mud-encrusted, football boots. This innocent gesture began a chain of events that ended up in the NLS inviting three other copyright libraries to join them in Edinburgh for a magnificent tournament of football.

So it was on Friday 1st June 2007 that several football-obsessed Cambridge University librarians, one being myself, caught the 10:33 from Cambridge bound for bonnie Scotland and an exhausting weekend of advancing inter-library relations.

The Pear Tree on West Nicolson Street became the initial destination where all four teams met up for the draw. An event perceived by many as a chance to judge their opponents varying levels of fitness. First impressions were that there were more of those taller and younger than us and fewer not so.

As Ireland drew Scotland and England drew Wales out of the hat roars and groans went up. The Welsh were feared – any side with their own kit and team bus must be good. Friendships were immediately struck up, however, and all were quick to learn that this was a tournament not to be taken lightly.

Saturday began with a pre-match stroll up local landmark Arthur’s Seat. Halfway-up it became apparent that this wasn’t our best idea ever. 823 feet later and with aching bones, a muddle of chastened Cantabrigians steadily descended back to base-camp.

Not an hour later and all were heading for Peffermill Playing Fields and the semi-final play-offs. Team photos were taken and then anthems were sung (some National, some alternative) and the games commenced.

First game up for Cambridge was Wales and this proved to be a particularly tricky proposition. A well-drilled defensive unit of Siam Bhayro, Angela Pittock, Tim Cruickshank and Angela Fitzpatrick, thwarted many a Welsh attack but as the reds domination began to tell it became apparent that the breakthrough would come. Goalkeeper, Robin James, was making incredible save after incredible save and at half-time the score remained 0-0 and a well-earned breather for the Cambridge defence.

Second half began with the Welsh pushing their enormous centre-back, Huw Bonner into an attacking midfield role. Within minutes he’d made two searing runs into the box and the score was 2-0, one a towering header from a pinpoint cross on the right and the other a defence-splitting dribble and shot. Nothing for it then but to push more players forward in search of that elusive CUL shot at goal. And it worked. Two weak shots came in from Tim Cruickshank and John Clarke. One easily scooped up by the NLW keeper and one way over the bar. But at least the Welsh goal had been threatened. Ultimately though, the extra gaps at the back meant clearer NLW attacks and at the final whistle the score was 4-0 to the boys and girls from the valleys. Despite the long faces, we all agreed that the cheerleading CUL substitutes Chris Bell, Eleonore Migiet, Rachel Marsh and Claire Murnin, plus WAGs Louise and Hazel, had made the most noise and had kept the team going with their continuous chanting. Naturally, we claimed a moral victory for this reason.

Rushing across to find out the result of the other match we learned that Scotland had triumphed over Ireland 3-1. So tomorrow’s matches, to be played consecutively would be England v Ireland in the third-place play-off, and Scotland v Wales in the final.

After quick showers and some more bonding at the bar, it was off to the Ceilidh. Held at the Counting House, next door to the Pear Tree, there waited an array of food, drinks & a full Ceilidh band which gave the teams a chance to let their hair down and dispel the myth of the finger-wagging timid librarian once and for all. Kilts were worn with pride by a few Scots which added a real sense of national pride to the occasion. Cambridge got stuck into the ceilidh dancing enthusiastically and soon picked many of the intricate steps involved to their own and their team-mates astonishment. As the evening drew to a close all agreed it was a wonderful way to spend a night out in Edinburgh.

The morning of the last matches began with drawn faces and aching limbs; team-mates comparing bruises and minutes of sleep gained. A hearty breakfast soon revived spirits (those that had plumped for the haggis on the first morning chose something a little less adventurous) and the walk down to the ground was a lively one. A full warm-up was needed to remove the aches and then it was straight into the battle to avoid the wooden-spoon.

Ireland began brightly but soon it was England who began to dominate possession. Suddenly, the goal was in sight and a deft through-ball led to skipper Richard Young controlling in the area and side-footing adroitly into the net. 1-0 to the CUL. The celebrations were more an outpouring of relief than anything else. To leave without scoring in the tournament would have been a complete failure. Little were we to know that this match would contain eight excellent goals! Ireland equalised and then took the lead with their star-player, Stephen Hanaphy, causing havoc when pushing forward. The half-time whistle went and a rousing Cambridge team-talk ensued. “We can win this but we have to stay focussed”, was one cry.

Suddenly we were off again with inter-library loan officer, John Clarke, pushed deeper to midfield-enforcer, and manuscript fetcher, Ian Pittock, moved to the wing. This was working. More Cambridge pressure, a wicked Tim Cruickshank dribble, a late run and deft header from Clarke and it was 2-2. But, alas, Ireland forced it down the left wing and crossed for 3-2. Immediately, Charlie Cruickshank picked it up in midfield, went past two, nay three, defenders and blasted it into the Irish net. 3-3. But, woe of woes, poor tracking from Clarke and the team from Dublin had another. 4-3. With time ebbing away, a steaming run from Andrew Alexander and a pass into Jez Cruickshank’s feet and suddenly their was an opening. Jez looked up, a good 20 yards out, turned and blasted it high and wide to the keeper’s left for 4-4. The crowd screamed and hollered. What a match. As the final whistle blew Cambridge celebrated the draw like a victory. Bronze medals all round and a split wooden spoon which quickly went walkabouts.

So, to the final. I’d love to say this was the beautiful game at its finest, but I’d be lying. The Welsh humbled the poor Scots and despite a few attacks down the right from the boys and girls in blue it was an all-red walk-over. Camwy MacDonald banged in two, Huw Bonner lifted his tournament tally to three and two Welsh penalties were missed. The crowd cheered and booed in all the wrong places and the National Library of Wales rode out deserved winners 4-0.

The weekend ended with speeches in the bar. The NLW captain said how he was chuffed to bits to be hosting the next Copyright Cup and promised to make us all as welcome as the NLS had made us feel. Rachel Edwards, the organiser, thanked everyone for attending and making the event a complete success and all teams responded in kind by thanking her for making it more enjoyable than they could ever have imagined. Richard Young, the Cambridge captain, said “It is an honour for the CUL to be part of the first Copyright Cup, and this can only be good for public relations between the copyright libraries. I'm very proud of all my players, who have trained hard over the last 5 months to be ready for the tournament and we can't wait for Wales next year”.
Hear, hear.
© John Clarke

Click here to read the heavily edited version of my report on the University of Cambridge website...

Tags: cambridge college copyright cup dublin edinburgh football ireland library national scotland trinity university wales

Holidays: The Algarve, Portugal

2007-06-27T11:13:00.000+01:00

The sheltered bay shimmered in the brilliant sunshine. The golden sand called out and I obeyed. As I sank into its warm caress I felt a displacement in my soul. Begone, hard labour, for now is the summer of my content. Mmmmm... holidays.

Yep, it was good on that little beach, Praia do Castelo. Whisper the words in case others may hear and spoil the perfection. The sea was cool and the sun was scorching. The miniscule pebbled sand-stones were abrasive, but not in a bad way. The waves gently pushed me inland before slapping me like wet seaweed against the shore. It was awesome.

Our monstrous villa was a wonderful excess. Sleeps eight but housed just us four for the week. And its shining glory, besides the private pool, was the barbeque. Every day was barbeque day. Steaks, piri piri-marinated chicken, red Portuguese sausages and of course the humble burger. All this with accompanying fresh local salads and washed down with copious amounts of Super Bock and Sagres beer. Mmmm... beer.

So, the beaches and the villa kept us happy. Then there was the rest. Well, nothing much was open, despite the blazing sun and the fact that the place was teeming with tourists. Some of the waterparks and zoos were open but we just never got the time to try them out. Another week might have done it. We did make visits to Loule, Oura, Albufeira, Silves and Portimao, however.

Oura - Whilst searching for Albufeira centre we happened upon this little place and parked up. It was getting dark and the pubs and clubs were buzzing - mostly with the humble English tourist. We partook of the atmosphere and the beer in a few pubs (one had a live band playing English/American pop 'covers') before being dragged down a side alley by a local to a wonderful little bar. Free shots were set up and the night settled into a mix of good conversation, drinks and DJ'd musicology. We were occasionally interrupted by the odd chav on a bender but mostly it was incredibly pleasant.

Portimao - A short drive down to this bustling city whereupon we were spotted by a local chancer who helpfully showed us a parking spot and then demanded compensation for his efforts. This happened in several places and we eventually grew tired of it and soon saw through the charade. We worked out if you parked away from the centre and fled the car they couldn't come begging for euros. We were greatly disappointed to find no evidence of boat trips and so settled upon combing the sweeping beach, Praia da Rocha, for a good spot to bathe and paddle. After a good soaking we headed for the port itself and a further attempt to locate some trips up the river or along the coast but there really wasn't anything - as we'd been led to believe. The charter boat office was shut up and there were no departure times anywhere to be seen.

Loule - We visited on market day. We got there about 11:30 and made a quick sweep through the throng but there was so much to choose from we decided we'd shop just before leaving, so made our way into the centre where we found a very pretty fountain. There wasn't much else about so it was back to the market and lo and behold they were all but packed up! The market was shutting at MIDDAY! There were no signs to warn of such an early closure. We quickly went round the stalls but left disappointed again after spying a few fish and the odd bit of veg not worth haggling over. The hypermarkets would have to feed us for the week!

Silves - It really is a pretty place. The slow walk up to the castle took us up some lovely avenues and the castle itself was a very attractive sandstone terracotta. An accordion-player lulled us round the battlements and many photos were taken. We had a quick lunch in the nearby cafe before heading back.

Albufeira - Simply the most godforsaken place on the planet. It's worse than Reading at festival-time. Hundreds of English tourists touting you tickets for things you don't even understand. They just shout at you "Are you British?" "Want to buy a ticket?" "Come and eat in my restaurant". It's downright scary. Even the beach was being refurbished and the only sign of any watersports was a banana boat lying unused in a shed. We braved a cafe and an open part of the beach but decided our villa with its pool and barbeque was a much better place to enjoy the sunshine.

So, all in all, we had great company, a great villa, and a great selection of beaches, including Praia da Gale, Praia da Sao Rafael and Praia da Coelho. Gale in particular was very picturesque with a split beach; one side was sheltered and the other was wide and open.

I'll leave you with the best night of them all...
Castelo's Restaurant Por do Sol. Steak On A Stone. Sea Bass. Bottle of cheeky white. A lot of Aguadente (Firewater). And Liverpool squeezing past Chelsea in the Champions League semi-final. Magic.
© John Clarke

Click here for my report published in the Algarve Beach Life online magazine...

Tags: albufeira algarve beach castelo life portugal praia vacation villa