Film: The Pearl Button

Tonight, thought film - and what came up was a documentary called The Pearl Button, set in Chile. Scenery looked spectacular.. this is showing in the ICA only. Wow, it's years since I was last there, too! This is part of an In Focus series they're doing on the director, Patricio Guzmán.

I had a meeting due to finish at 5.30, and a flat viewing at 6.30. Which just about gave me time to nip down to The Lucas Arms in between - given that the flat viewing was in my building! Unfortunately, I hit the pub at the busy time - so, not only did I have to sit in the dark corner by the Gents, but it took a while for my dinner to arrive. Which meant I didn't have time to finish it - and me hungry, too. And after all that, the flat was distinctly underwhelming - I've just about given up on finding anything decent in this area. Have another viewing tomorrow, near Tower Bridge - the room looks massive, and has a private patio. Here's hoping..

So, I galloped off to the ICA afterwards. On the bus, had a charming interaction with a cute-as-a-button toddler, whose buggy I was sat beside, and who reached for my phone every time it was in reach! only for me to snatch it back, with a glare. She got a great kick out of the glares! and when they were getting off, we waved bye-bye to each other. When I switched to walking for the last part of my trip, it was to the frustrating sight of the Mall, completely lined with crash barriers! Honestly, I know there's a lot on there these days - but do they really have to leave them up all the time?! If I hadn't jay-walked on the road, I'd never have made it in time!

As I remarked, gaspingly, to the lady who sold me my ticket, it didn't help that every pedestrian crossing I needed to use was about to turn red as I got to it! Never mind, she reassured me, there were still about five minutes of trailers. Seating was unassigned, so I took an unobtrusive seat near the back - very comfortable, and I could easily have dozed off, if there had been a headrest!

The trailer looked stunning, and so the film proved to be. The scenic shots are amazing. The "pearl button" of the title references the story of Jemmy Button, a native Chilean who, for the price of a pearl button, allowed himself to be taken with them for a year. He dressed as a European, spoke English - and then returned to his native people, but apparently was never quite the same for his experience. The director carries on this theme by interviewing an indigenous Chilean woman, asking her to recount, in her native language, a trip she took, paddling through the Chilean archipelago. All of this to highlight Chileans' love of the water.

My though, things do take a turn thereafter - the water, too, takes on a sinister role, as the dictatorship in Chile is described, and the dumping of dissenters' bodies in the ocean. Shocking and compelling, as much so as the beautiful scenery that went before. This is a fascinating watch, the director himself having had to flee the country at the time he describes. Highly recommended for anyone with an interest in that country.

Tomorrow, back with Up in the Cheap Seats (UITCS), for All of It, at the Royal Court. Then I'm back to Ireland for the weekend. Where, again, there's absolutely nothing for me to watch.

On Monday and Tuesday, thinking film - and the top-rated films on my list are both showing at my local cinema. As usual, I had to check that website specifically. Monday, it's looking like Pretty Red Dress, a comic drama about a red dress, and its effects on a family.

On Tuesday, the choice is looking like another by Patricio Guzmán - My Imaginary Country describes the activism of women in Chile.

Next Wednesday, back with UITCS - for We Will Rock You! at the Coliseum. Excellent - this didn't have tickets for the night I looked for before. Written by Queen with Ben Elton, should be a great night out.

On the 22nd - heading out to Elstree, of all places, for Giffords Circus. Well, it was the best of what I saw advertised..

On the 23rd, my sometime-companion from UITCS suggested a murder mystery! The Murder Express: Jewel of the Empire.. set on a train, and includes dinner. Oh, lovely.. she got a Groupon deal, apparently..

On the 24th, delighted to be back with Expat Bucket List London! Well, back with the founder of both this and Bucket List London - I haven't actually been with the Expat group yet. Yippee, back to the Globe - for The Comedy of Errors.

On the 25th, back with Discover London - History Walks and Events to Discover the Secrets of the 19th Century London Docks. Always love this part of town - wouldn't be at all put out to live nearby!

On the 26th, got a cheap ticket with CT for From Swing to Soul, a concert series at Wonderville. I do wonder whether they fixed their tech issues from last time..

And on the 27th, back with UITCS again - this time, for A Strange Loop, at the Barbican. Multi-award-winning, it seems - cheaper tickets available from WhatsOnStage (WOS), fulfilled by London Theatre Direct. Interestingly though, to get the cheaper offer, buy through WOS..

Plays: Best of Bare Essentials & Film: Embrace of the Serpent

Helen popped up to town again yesterday, and again asked me to choose what to go to. Well, with nothing leaping out at me, again I sent her a shortlist, again she sent me a reduced shortlist, and I started at the top. Which led me to the Best of Bare Essentials, which had a ticket offer. Coolio, I booked.

She was coming into Waterloo, which made that the focus of Google Maps' instructions - and their suggestion was to take the Northern Line to Leicester Square and walk from there. She was on the earlier train she could have got, and I got a bit held up.. and when I came to Clapham Junction, behold, there were no trains leaving immediately. Plus the departure boards on the platforms had the trains arriving slightly earlier than claimed by the main board. Anyway, they sent me off to Platform 7 again - and again, after a bit, the mention of a train departing from there disappeared from the departures board on the platform. Fortunately, I dithered before giving up on that platform, and just as I was leaving, a nonstop train to Waterloo arrived.

We met by Mr. Stay Puft..

..and, on our way to the Tube, passed a little shack devoted to Ghostbusters stuff. Including travelcard holders - which was handy, because I needed one. So now I have one! with a fetching trimming of ectoplasm.

In Leicester Square, we took Exit 1 - although, since we were headed down Cranbourn Street, we should properly have used Exit 4.. for future reference. Never mind - head right down there from Exit 1 (or left from Exit 4), and at the junction, take the second left. This will take you to the notorious Seven Dials - the junction of seven roads, at one time famous for its gin shops, and for the past 200-odd years, famous for being easy to get lost in. And still is - although, as Helen remarked, it'd be worse in a car! (Traffic is manic, even down these narrow streets.) Google Maps to the rescue, and we turned off left of Matilda.

The Seven Dials Comedy Club is an unassuming black doorway to the right, at 42 Earlham Street. Just up from Donmar Warehouse, across the road, where I haven't been in an age. A very obliging lady at the desk, just inside the door, checked off my name, and upstairs we went. (There is a lift, too.) It's a lovely, modern space, a bar with tables, a rail of coathangers as you come in..

So we had wine, and as we hadn't had dinner, we had crisps.. like Southwark Playhouse, you can take drinks in with you, and in due course we were let into the performance space. Which was boiling, especially when they closed the windows to keep out the street noise. Rows of chairs, seating unassigned, so we sat in front of a fan. Which wasn't immediately turned on.

We had an MC for the night, and from what he said, it was apparent that Bare Essentials is A Thing. How did I never before hear of it..? Anyway, it fosters new playwriting (and this was their first night in their new venue) and that night was the Best Of. The idea is to strip things back pretty much to basics - they'll provide a table and chairs, basically, and off you go. Excellent! I'm a big fan of productions that use a couple of boxes and a pea, and make you use your imagination. I could name others that think that's just lazy.. well, takes all kinds. He also mentioned that we'd been provided with mini fans - also known as programmes.

Six plays, two halves. For the first - Thin Air - a rope was stretched across the stage. We were to discover why.. this was a soliloquy by a tightrope walker, before she steps onto the wire. She delivered the whole thing standing on a stool.. she told us about her history in the circus, and we wondered why she now seemed reluctant to step out.. at the end of a poignant performance, we found out why, and for me, this was the performance of the night.

The Leaving of Things, part of a full-length piece, focused on a young couple, in some kind of awkward first meeting situation, trying to get the courage to perform a transaction. And taking us to the interval was The Maltese Walter, where an unassuming chap called Walter took himself to the psychiatrist, as his fiancée wasn't too impressed with his superpower - the ability to transform any situation into Film Noir.

At the interval, we were urged to Tweet about the show - the winner would get a free drink. While we did that, we got some cold water from the bar - and soon enough, we were back in the overheated performance room, for the last three. The News had three friends, sitting in a hospital waiting room, waiting for word of their seriously injured friend. Love in Freefall examined what would happen if two soldiers, involved in a skydive as part of their training, got involved in a love triangle. And we finished with How to Murder Someone and Make Sure They're Absolutely Definitely Dead, in which a jilted lover plotted to murder his ex's new boyfriend.

Well, we didn't win the Tweeting contest - but it was a fascinating night, and I'll be keen to hear more of Bare Essentials.. Helen didn't have time to eat, sadly, and we went straight to the station for her to catch her train. And when I'd seen her off, I took the bus home.. where I started on my film list, for the first time in nearly two months! Today's weather was promised beautiful, and I should have done something outdoorsy - but I've come down with a moderate case of the flu, and am trying to take things easy.

..I didn't even get the film list finished last night, although I stayed up very late. So, a late start today, and I got the thing finished mid-afternoon. I was stunned by what came top of the list, most particularly because of its 9.4 rating - I've seen ratings like it, but not for a mainstream film like Jason Bourne! So I'm really excited to see that. Sadly, it seems only to be previewing this week, on Wednesday and Thursday - neither of which I can do. Next on the list was Bayou Maharajah, a documentary about James Booker. Only showing today at 4pm at the Bernie Grant Arts Centre, which turns out to be all the way up in Seven Sisters. By the time I determined that, and how to get there, I had 15 minutes to get dressed and presentable if I were to make it in time. Heh, wasn't happening.

There was a Bollywood film, Madaari, which didn't really appeal. So that brought me down to Embrace of the Serpent, an interestingly titled black and white film set in the Amazonian jungle in the early part of the 20th century. And it was in the ICA, which I hadn't visited yet this year. Cool! Didn't need to book, and I just nicely had time to set off to catch the bus.

The 87 is a nice bus route, taking you through Westminster, to Trafalgar Square and Aldwych. And it was a lovely day for it - as long as you weren't on a Routemaster, with windows that don't open. And as long as you didn't have to go on the upper deck. I wasn't, and didn't, sitting downstairs beside an open window that wafted the odd cool breeze my way. Got off just before Trafalgar Square, at Horse Guards Parade, where I followed Google Maps' suggestion, walking straight through the ornate building just ahead, to Horse Guards Road on the other side - and so to the Mall, with the ICA just across the road. I'd forgotten what a gorgeous area this is on a sunny day:

Got there a bit early, got a ticket without trouble - but they don't tend to open till the last minute. I hadn't eaten (again), and would have got something from the café except that there was such a queue. So I mooched around their interesting bookshop until they opened the doors and let us in to the screen. It ended up about half full, I noticed.

Some trailers for arthouse films I'd heard of but not seen - and we were into the main feature. Now, Embrace of the Serpent tracks the story of an Amazonian shaman, switching between two phases of his life, during each of which he meets a German scientist on the trail of a mythical Amazonian plant that cures all ills. There's a lot to like in this - it's absolutely beautifully shot, and although there has, unsurprisingly, been criticism of its shooting in black and white, missing the gorgeous tropical colours - as someone pointed out, you get to concentrate on the story this way: and it's not a travelogue.

Indeed, it's not - we are left in no doubt how much trouble the white man brought to the Amazon, and the shaman is rightly suspicious of both men. We see the traces of the murderous rubber barons, we see some effects of the well meaning missionaries. And although the scientists themselves are curious, and eager to integrate with the natives, we see the limits of their understanding, too.

The shaman strides majestically throughout, even in later years. Yes, a lot to like.. and I wish I had liked it more. However, I did find it very long.. Avoid, I think, unless you really have a passionate interest in the native peoples of the Amazon. Anyway, on my way back I cut through Trafalgar Square:

..and tomorrow, I think I'll hit the cinema again. With my film list now done, it's a lot easier to choose what to go to - and Bayou Maharajah is showing somewhere closer tomorrow. It's at the Picturehouse Central - 1pm is a bit early, but I intend to go to bed earlier too! As for Monday, it sees me back with the Man with the Hat, who's headed to Southwark Playhouse for a drama called Stalking the Bogeyman. Hope my flu dries up by then..

Tourist Weekend! Friday

Friday
Phew, what a weekend! So, as I mentioned, I had friends come to London for the weekend. Dashed through work on Friday so I could go meet them at lunchtime - I had a half day. I needn't have been quite so worried - turned out they took a slower bus than recommended.. :-) and I arrived at Victoria before they did.

Well. Yes, I did arrive at Victoria. So were they to do. However, I have never before been to the Victoria Coach Station, and just assumed it was in the main building, along with the bus, rail, and underground stations. So I followed the signs that said "bus" and positioned myself there. Sure I was in the right place, I refused an offer of help from one of the people standing around waiting, employed to give it. After a while though, it began to bother me that the only buses I could see were London buses.. so I had a wander, and came across a sign (in the train station) for the coach station. Somewhere else entirely. Wonderful.

It was at that point that they phoned me to say they'd arrived. I naively asked whether they could possibly come to the train station. I didn't realise that the coach station is several streets away and very badly signposted, both on approach and the building itself. I wandered out onto the street, trying to get directions from them and being woefully confused that none of us could see the same things. In due course, I came across a map that directed me to the coach station - even when I did find the right street, and was walking alongside the station, I didn't realise it until I happened upon the entrance at the end! Jeez, talk about the poor relation of the stations..

Anyway, once I got that far, I found them. We were all hungry, it being lunchtime, and stopped at the first eatery we came across - the Traveller's Tavern, in the station itself. We easily got a table, ordered and paid at the bar. I can testify that their hunter's chicken is delicious! The pub itself is attractively decorated, and service comes with a smile. We were well fed by the time we ventured outside to figure our way back to their hotel, so they could leave their bags.

They were staying at the Grange Rochester - which we were glad to find (eventually). In retrospect, we took a slightly roundabout route - but then, as I say, I've never before been to the coach station. Anyway, we eventually came to the filling station at the junction with Rochester Row, which meant we were nearby. This would be their nearest stop to fill up on the essentials. Sure enough, we were at the hotel minutes later.

It's a cosy place - quiet, they said afterwards. Lots of wood, lots of brass. Rather attractive. Too hot upstairs, as usual - there isn't any aircon either. They were to find London very humid all weekend, compared to what they're used to - but at least they were provided with two electric fans in what turned out to be quite a large room, with three beds. The room also provided a decent-sized ensuite, a flat-screen tv, a safe, and tea/coffee making facilities.

After a bit of r&r, we hit the town. The original plan had been to head to Notting Hill, but with a ghost walk planned for a specific time that evening, we figured that time was now against us. They suggested we stay more local, and I suggested that we skip straight to the bit of the itinerary that involved walking up to Buckingham Palace - not far, closer than the coach station - then up the Mall, drop into the ICA bookshop for a minute, and to Trafalgar Square, where we could decide what to do next.

They got Oyster cards on the way, at the Underground station. Seems the procedure has changed somewhat from when I got mine, some years back - in those olden days, you just paid for the credit on the card, and had to get it from a ticket office. Now, you can get them from a machine, and must pay a £5 deposit on each! (refundable if you return the card). Which means the card now costs £5, basically. Well, you need it for the buses - and with engineering works on both Circle and District lines this weekend, that was going to be necessary: and it's still much better value than cash, even when you can use that.

That done, off we went to Buckingham Palace. They were quite impressed to find it so close to their hotel, and we spent much time photographing each other in front of it. Time didn't allow us to go in. We then made our way up the Mall, stopping for refreshments - including some very tasty ice cream - at a kiosk in Green Park. Photos of the day available here. Progressing up the mall, we came across a pair of sentries guarding some side entrance or other. A number of tourists were gathered around, and as we were fumbling with cameras and deciding what photos to take, I guess someone must've got too close, because - for all their famous statue-like composure, one of the sentries completely lost it and roared to GET BACK! NOW!!! Um, yes. We all legged it.

We popped into the ICA bookshop briefly, where some purchases were made - it's got a very interesting range. We sat, chatted, and people-watched in Trafalgar Square for a while, having some more snacks at the café, wandered around Westminster, then made our way to Monument for the ghost walk. Corinna was our guide, and despite being softly spoken as she chatted to us beforehand, she was quite capable of projecting her voice as needed. I hadn't researched the guides beforehand, so it came as a surprise both to learn that she is an actor, and to have her burst into song - not once, but twice, on the tour. See, I've done this walk before - last Hallowe'en, in fact - but with a different guide (Shaughan), and not only are the guides different, but it transpires that they cover different routes, and have completely different repertoires of stories! So it is possible to take the same tour twice and have a completely different experience.

She led us on a merry trek for the next two hours, through narrow passageways and underpasses, over hidden bridges, around the City. We got to stand on a height, with a lovely view of the Thames, Tower Bridge and the Shard, as the daylight dimmed and the City lights came on. We unexpectedly got into a church, bombed during the Blitz and converted to a garden, and whose gate should have been closed by then. It was lovely, with a fountain in the middle, surrounded by benches - onto which we gratefully sank, as she regaled us with a tale of a ghostly white Persian cat, and a song. Our next musical interlude (which included seating too) was in the courtyard of the Guildhall, where she got us all to join in as a ghostly chorus. The tour ended in the Barbican, where we got to explore passageways I hadn't seen before.

The night ended with a seemingly interminable wait at Barbican Station for a Circle line train, so we could go direct. So much for a 15-minute wait between trains - we must have been waiting for twice that long when, just as we gave up and were planning an alternative route, one finally deigned to appear. We really needed to eat now, so figured the easiest was to head for the Buckingham Balti, near Victoria.

And so to bed. And so to bed for me now too, as it's past my bedtime.. more to follow, when I get a moment!

Film: Watchers of the Sky

I'm back!! Yes indeed, I actually didn't go anywhere the last two nights - apathy for the films, combined with nice sunny evenings, meant I just didn't feel like it. I stayed home instead - got a few things organised, including starting an online German course by Linguaphone, for which I got a massive discount with Time Out offers..

But I'm back in the saddle tonight. I went to Watchers of the Sky - now, this is one I meant to go to ages ago, but something else came up. It was showing tonight only, in the Institute of Contemporary Arts. I was glad to get another chance to see it. Went straight from the office, which meant that the Tube was packed, of course. I had something of a crisis on the stairs leading down to it, with someone coming against me - on the rail, of course. And me needing the rail, with my bathmophobia. Anyway, I survived. Ironic that the guy I noticed on the platform as being outstandingly cute turned out to be the exact same guy that I ended up crushed up against in the carriage a few minutes later! Mind you, he was spottier up close..

The ICA - like most things, I suppose - is easy to get to when you know how. Passing through the barriers at Piccadilly Circus, take the exit straight ahead, marked Regent Street. Continue straight ahead, down Regent Street, to the end - where the statue of the Duke of York stands. Proceed down the steps, and hang a left at the bottom. Ah yes, more steps. Now, it was quite sunny and mild at this point, and there were people sitting on the steps. At the edges. Where the rails are - no rail down the centre, here. Gave me a moment's pause that - but there were just two couples, one on each side, but at different levels - and there was a flat bit between where they were. So - ahem - I had to go all the way from the left, where I started, to the right-hand side to get the rail down to the next flat bit (to avoid the first couple), and then walk all the way across the flat bit to get the rail down the left-hand side (to avoid the second couple), which led me to the bottom. Lordy, what a fuss..

There was a larger queue than I've seen before. As I bought my ticket, she explained to me that it was actually cheaper than advertised, because there was no Q+A, as advertised. Ok fine. The screen was already open, and I chose a seat. The screening was in association with DocHouse, which holds regular screenings of documentaries, together with Q+As, at a few venues around town. I must say, they have a terrific programme. Anyway, someone from the organising committee made an announcement before the show began, to say that the person they'd lined up for the Q+A hadn't been able to make it because of a family bereavement.

Which is actually a shame, because I would have loved to hear someone give an insight into some of the issues that this incredible film deals with. It's interesting - the last time I went to a film, I was delighted it wasn't a documentary. However, some documentaries merit their high rating. This film should be required viewing for EVERY HUMAN BEING old enough to understand. It's about genocide. It's about a man called Raphael Lemkin, who coined the term. A Polish Jew whose entire family perished in the Holocaust, he fled to the States in 1941. Frustrated that the Nuremberg Trials didn't go far enough in condemning what happened, he spent the rest of his life lobbying the United Nations to recognise the crime of genocide.

But it's about more than his story. We meet some amazing people - the lawyer at the UN who worked with him, and came from a refugee family himself - the United States ambassador to the UN, Samantha Power, who was a correspondent in the Bosnian war and is now a tireless campaigner against genocide - the crusading Argentinian lawyer whose family disowned him when he prosecuted the junta and who now prosecutes in the International Criminal Court - and then there's possibly the most amazing story of all. The final character is the refugee whose entire family was killed in Rwanda, and who now runs refugee camps in Eastern Chad: a gentle man, who chokes up when he talks about his family, but feels that his role is to help others. Revenge, he says, can do us no good - its only effect is to bring trouble for our children, and our children's children.

There are many powerful messages in this film. There's Lemkin's frustration at the Nuremberg trials, where they believed that such a thing could never happen again. Of course, we've since seen that it not only can, but most probably will. Again and again. We see some examples in the film - Bosnia, Rwanda, Darfur, Syria. We can all think of more. And the one thing of which you can be sure, if this happens in your neighbourhood - as the film points out very clearly - is that no-one will come riding in to help you. Governments talk the talk, but rarely walk the walk. The Rwandan genocide only ended when the Tutsis fought back. Nobody came rushing in for any of the other victims either. A mother living in a refugee camp in Chad, when interviewed, confides how one of her sons has already been killed, another has lost an eye and she's afraid for his life too, and now her teenage son is ready to join the rebels. He has no choice - no-one else will help them.

And yet.. we have this unsupported band of idealists in the UN, issuing arrest warrants for people like Omar al-Bashir (still at large and awaiting some army - any army - to come arrest him). We have people like that brave Rwandan Tutsi who runs the refugee camps in Chad. And we have the lawyer who worked with Lemkin, who tells us the story behind the film's name. Relates to Tycho Brahe, the Danish astronomer who persuaded the king to build him an observatory. Well, he'd been there 25 years, and there was a new king, who wanted to know what went on there, and sent some men to find out. Brahe explained that he'd been watching the sky. "Whatever for?" "Well," he said, "I now have incredibly accurate measurements of the movements of the stars. I thought it might give me an insight into the meaning of the universe, but, well.." "So what was the use?" "Well," he said, "when someone else comes along to discover the meaning of the universe, I will have saved him 25 years work..!" Indeed, apparently, when the first astronauts landed on the moon, they had a copy of Brahe's measurement tables with them.

Astonishing film. Infuriating, emotional, beautifully expressed. Keep a close eye out for it.

It was raining when I came out - at least the steps were clear! Coming back on a much emptier Tube, I found myself sitting opposite a member of the UK Under 15 Fencing team. Fancy.. Then I got home and discovered I had been supposed to be somewhere else! I had a ShowFilmFirst free ticket to a concert - was convinced it was tomorrow night, it turns out it was tonight. Oops! Well, I can fairly guarantee that this was better. And it leaves me free to go to the National Gallery tomorrow night - I've been wanting to all week, but they only open late on Fridays. They're running what sounds like a fascinating exhibition, on architecture in Italian Renaissance paintings. Well, I've never been before, but I do love Renaissance art. I was going to go on Saturday, but if I go tomorrow, that'll leave me free on Saturday to go to Return to Homs, a terrific-looking documentary, showing that day only, about two young lads from Homs whose lives have been utterly changed by the war. So, works out well for me then!

Film: A World Not Ours

Hello from the twilight zone! It's taking a little longer than usual to type this, as we're still in the dark, with no sign of the landlord. But we're surviving, with laptops and plug-in lamps. It's just the overhead lights that are gone - must be a blown fuse, but we don't know where the fusebox is. Ah well.

I don't know when I'll get to a play again - there have been quite a few on, but generally they're sold out by the time I get to them. Fortunately, the same cannot be said of (most) films, and today's was A World Not Ours, at the Institute of Contemporary Arts.

Quickest way tends to be via Piccadilly Circus, and after checking that there were no planned engineering works today in the city centre, I flattered myself that I remembered the way without having to recheck the route. Heh. Well, nearly. To be fair, I got the correct exit from the Tube - Lower Regent Street and Eros - and, had I continued forward from that exit, I'd have been fine. Instead, for some reason, I decided to turn right, and found myself lost. But I retraced my steps after a couple of minutes, and found myself heading in the right direction again, still in time for the film.

Now, this film is directed by someone who is technically a Palestinian refugee. However, it opens with him having trouble with the guards at the entrance to the camp he's making the film about, because his Palestinian refugee ID expired many years ago, and only refugees can enter the camp. You see, his father got the chance to emigrate to Denmark, and immediately took it. He now lives in London. But he did spend part of his childhood in this camp, and as he says at the end, he supposes that the making of this film is his attempt at finding somewhere he belongs, somewhere he's from. Interestingly, part of the film shows him accompanying his Jewish classmates on a trip to Israel. His family were all so excited, because he was the first from the family to go back there - but, as he says, he didn't feel he belonged. Although he did take a detour to visit those of his relatives who were still there.

His friends could never understand, he says, why he chose to spend his holidays in this camp. And you have to sympathise with them. It's claustrophobic and squalid. This is the largest Palestinian refugee camp in Lebanon. It's 70,000 people living in 1.5 square km. He has a real affection for the place, and describes how he used to come back here for the World Cup, which invigorated the camp. But things changed after the celebrations following the 2006 World Cup, when the Israelis bombed the camp: and when this film was made, in 2010, the atmosphere was different. There was simply less enthusiasm.

We meet his friend, who's a member of Fatah. Not out of any Palestinian nationalism, mind - he just needs a job! And, you see, the Lebanese government won't let Palestinian refugees work in Lebanon. Regardless of qualifications. So whatcha gonna do? He needs money, he's not getting anything for free.. Finally, he gets sick of Fatah and quits. Tells everyone he's got work elsewhere, but he's actually smuggled overland into Greece. He's captured trying to walk to Germany (he did get as far as Serbia).. after a short time, he and his fellow Palestinians, with whom he's been sleeping rough on the streets of Athens, are deported. Back to the camp.

God help the refugees of this world. It seems that no-one else is doing much. Quoted a couple of times during the film are the words of Ben-Gurion, Israel's first prime minister. You see, in order for the dispossessed Israeli diaspora to be given a home in Palestine, another diaspora had to be created. Of the people who were living there beforehand. Of whom he said - "The old will die, and the young will forget". Except it's hard to forget, if you're crammed into one of these settlements, and forbidden to do anything else.

This camp struck me as being a breeding ground for not only terrorism, but for mental instability - witness the story of one of the filmmaker's relatives, who lost it after his beloved brother was shot by Israeli soldiers. And the camp has been in existence now for more than 65 years. You'd think someone would have come up with a solution by now. If they cared. I keep thinking of 12 Years a Slave, and how everyone is describing it as such an important film, how educational it is. This is every bit as important, and the events it describes are happening right now.

Continuing the cinematic theme, tomorrow's film should be a bit more lightweight. I'm thinking of seeing Only Lovers Left Alive, the vampire romance with Tilda Swinton. Yes, I can appreciate that casting.. and on Tuesday, I've booked to see Spite Marriage in the British Film Institute. It was Buster Keaton's last silent film, I believe. Why booked, you might ask, especially as there were still plenty of tickets available? Well, they have these cheap tickets on Tuesdays, see.. and there was only one of those left! PS I remember complaining a while back about a double request for donations on their website. See, when you selected your ticket, they suggested a donation of 10% of the ticket price. Ok, fine. Then they added a booking fee. Then they suggested another donation, which pissed me off so much that I removed the donation I'd already agreed to. I see they've removed the 10% donation suggestion. I mustn't have been the only aggrieved customer..!

Film: Hunger (2008)

Despite having most of the day to make it to the Institute of Contemporary Arts for today's showing of Hunger, I was still in a rush, and still slightly late. Well, see, I got to booking fights back to Ireland - I always book in advance to try to get a better price - and with flight prices expensive around Easter, I said I'd better keep going.. so ended up leaving a bit later than intended.

No Tube problems this evening - might have had something to do with me not travelling on the District Line! Anyway, the lady at the box office - when she got through with her conversation with her colleague - reassured me that I was in plenty of time, there were 15 minutes of trailers. A very different policy from that of the British Film Institute!

I didn't see Hunger when it was first released. Steve McQueen's first directorial feature - 12 Years a Slave is only his third! - is a powerful and shocking piece. (Shame was the one in the middle. All star Michael Fassbender - I guess each director has a favourite actor.) 2/3 years between each. If he continues at this pace, we can expect something else powerful from him next year, or the year after.

And boy, he doesn't like pleasant subjects, now does he? Slavery, sex addiction - and in Hunger, the 1981 hunger strikes in the Maze prison, Belfast. The story, basically, is that Republican prisoners had special status, as part of an agreement with the British government, up to 1976, when the government decided to end it. This essentially meant that they did not have to wear uniforms, or perform prison duties. It was essentially equivalent to POW status under the Geneva convention.

The prisoners didn't take kindly to the ending of this arrangement. As we see in the film, they refused to wear uniforms. The protest later escalated to the "dirty protest". Unable to leave their cells because of riots and beatings, the prisoners could not slop out, and instead smeared their excrement over their cell walls and poured the urine under the door, into the hall. The government still intransigent, the prisoners, led by Bobby Sands, decided to go on hunger strike.

Michael Fassbender plays Bobby Sands - we also have Frank McCusker as the governor, and Liam Cunningham as Father Moran. And a more powerful piece you will be hard pressed to find. Not one bit is exaggerated - yes, it was that bad. I remember seeing the pictures. Hard to imagine living in that stench, never mind going on hunger strike. The fear of the prison officers is also shown. The prison guard who has to check under his car every day for a car bomb. The riot officer who is reduced to tears, hiding around the corner, when his colleagues are beating the naked prisoners, to try to subdue them so they can be washed. Not an easy film to watch.

But a very, very powerful one. Much of it is completely silent. Bobby Sands' gradual deterioration and death could be filmed in an over emotional way. It isn't - it's very quiet, and all the more moving for it. Little is said, but we can see his weakening, the sores on his body. His hearing and sight deteriorate. And then he's gone, and we're informed that the British government, after the end of the hunger strike, subsequently, quietly, implemented all the prisoners' demands - just not acknowledging their "special status".

For my money, this is a better film than 12 Years a Slave - not to say that that wasn't good, but it lacks the simple power of this. Funny how it was completely ignored by the Oscars. But then, we all know the Oscars are all about politics, eh? American slavery = good topic. Will probably win most awards just for that. Irish hunger strikers = not good topic. Too much **** on the walls. Ignored. Hey-ho, it's their party..

Overheard in the ladies' afterwards - two young English women discussing the film. "You know that scene in the middle, with the priest?" Ah yes, I thought - the one where Sands' political ideology is explained, the expository scene that sets up the rest of the film.. "I couldn't understand a word!"

:-) True, they didn't compromise on the accent. No subtitles.

Ironically, the one thing I wanted to do afterwards was eat, but the first two supermarkets I tried were closed! Well, my personal hunger was eventually sated..

For tomorrow, there's an interesting-sounding play on in the Arcola, in Dalston Junction, of all places! It's an age since I've been there - but at least the tube strike won't start back up until Tuesday. Anyway, this play - Punishment without Revenge - is part of their Spanish Golden Age season. Written in 1631, lots of drama as a stepson and stepmother fall for each other in Renaissance Italy. Yes please! And on Tuesday, at last, something I booked back in December - 1980, a piece by Pina Bausch, at Sadlers Wells. Looks good, but strange enough that I prebooked a programme, so I might be able to figure our what it's about. As I shall have to figure out my transport options again, coming back..

Film: Oh Boy

A film tonight, the first this week. Top of the list showing tonight, in terms of IMDB ratings, that I hadn't seen and was interested in seeing, was Oh Boy, showing at the Institute of Contemporary Arts. So, of course, the first task was travel planning, on account of the Tube strike. I could get close enough to the cinema on the Tube, but time would be tight as I came out, given that they are closing at 11 for the duration, and so I decided to use alternative means. TFL's website was obliging enough to inform me that the 14 bus runs from Piccadilly Circus to Fulham Broadway - just down the road from me. Ok then. I checked where to catch the bus, and where it lets off, and I was set.

At West Brompton, the announcer was kind enough to inform us that the train indicator was in the wrong again. Today, all trains were going into town. Well, that suited me just fine! It being past rush hour, I got a seat, and got off at Embankment, again. This time though, at least I didn't have to climb onto the bridge! Instead, I turned in the other direction, and walked up Villiers Street to the Strand. Then left, past Charing Cross, to Trafalgar Square, negotiated several pedestrian crossings, and passed through Admiralty Arch to the Mall. The ICA is on the right, at the end of the arcades.

And then a funny thing happened - they had long, thick, black curtains drawn across the entrance - presumably for the cold - and a sign saying that such and such an exhibition was up the Duke of York steps to the right, and turn right for the entrance on Carlton House Terrace. Now, as it happened, I took it to mean that there was something on at the regular entrance, and we should go the other way. Just as well I arrived early, I thought. Anyway, as I turned to go up the steps, it occurred to me that that couldn't possibly be the way I had to go, because the entrance on the Mall is where the cinemas are. There isn't a back way into them. But, I said, I'll head up there anyway, out of curiosity - I hadn't been aware they had an entrance on this side. And here's me criticising Google Maps for sending me round that side of the building! Oops.

By the time I got back, they were letting people into the cinema, and in I went. Screen 2, as usual. Oh Boy is a comedy about a 26-year-old man in Berlin - has a rich father, dropped out of law school two years ago (without daddy knowing - daddy's been paying him an allowance the whole time), and the first time we see him, he's breaking up with his girlfriend. Abruptly. He's trying to get dressed without waking her, but she wakes, asks him whether he wants coffee. No, he says, he has to get to an appointment. (He really should have taken the coffee - his inability to get any becomes a real theme of the film.) She asks whether she will see him later - he's noncommittal. She presses him, and when he won't answer her, she gets the message. Charming!

He really does have an appointment - with a psychologist, who has to decide whether he'll get his driving licence back - it was confiscated because he was slightly over the drink-driving limit. The psychologist was cartoonishly obnoxious, and this is where the film started to lose me. I decided it was one of these arrogant comedies, with some guy - too cool for school - looking down his nose at all the ridiculousness around him. It's funny, but I dislike the pretentiousness of characters like that.

And yet.. as the film progresses, it gets a bit deeper, and our hero gets a bit of a conscience, I guess you could say, and starts to behave uncharacteristically. We are left with no indication of what he's actually going to do with his life, but he's certainly changed from the blasé youth we met at the beginning. So yes, it's a good film - shot, unusually, in black and white. Has its moments, but no classic.

The bus arrived at the stop just as I did. Well, a bit before actually, but I didn't feel like running for it. I'd have missed it if not for the massive crowd waiting to board. Sat upstairs, which is always nicer - if the bus is crowded, it's a good idea, because you can't stand upstairs, so there's more breathing space. Some American girls sitting near me were chatting, and complaining about having to take the bus all the time, and about how all the bus drivers seemed grumpy at the moment.. Yeah, a constantly packed bus will make anyone grumpy, I guess! I was nearly at my stop when we passed a Vue cinema. What?! There's one that close?! And here was I, walking all that way to Cineworld. Well, I shall remember that in future. Although Cineworld is cheaper, I see.

And tomorrow? Likely to be Dallas Buyers Club, which gets its general release tomorrow. I'll probably head to the cinema near work - there's a showing just at the right time to do that.

Film: Dark Days

Top of my list for films for today was Dark Days, but I was dubious. Did I really want to go to see a film about homeless people living in a subway tunnel? After some reading, I decided it was worth a shot. Looking on the website to check it wasn't selling out, I noticed that they were charging the same for full price tickets as for concessions. Which must have been an error (different prices had been quoted on the previous page). So I took full advantage!

It's showing exclusively in the Institute of Contemporary Arts. I checked Google Maps to remind myself how to get there - it's been a while - and noticed that, despite my having complained a couple of times, their directions STILL lead you around the back of the building, where there is no entrance! No, people, no - yes, you go to Piccadilly Circus and go down Regent Street (Tube exit straight ahead as you come off the escalator), and continue to the end, where the statue is. But then you do NOT turn left and look for a way in - there isn't one. What you do is carry on down the steps that descend behind the statue, and the ICA is at the bottom, on the left. Really, it ain't that hard..!

This is the place with the most excellent bookshop, which it's been an age since I had the time to peruse. This must be the first time, however, that, after perusal, I didn't find anything I wanted to own! (Not that I've ever bought anything in it - I just get inspiration and then check whether it's cheaper online, which it always is.) I was in plenty of time, and, ironically, they were in no hurry to open the cinema door. I had picked up a Metro on my way, though - they always have some left over at Earl's Court - and whiled the time away reading that until they let us in - somewhat reluctantly, I thought! Funnily enough, he did ask whether anyone was there to see Kiss the Water, showing in the other screen. Well, I'm sorry, but a film about fly fishing.. I guess it must be hard, choosing which arthouse films to screen, how unusual is too unusual. At least you know where you are with multiplexes!

As we entered, I caught myself wondering when on earth I'd last been in here! The last several times I've been to the ICA, I was in Screen 2 - it must be absolutely ages since I've been in Screen 1, which is much bigger. I positioned myself in a decent seat - seating is unassigned. And after a while a young couple sat in the row in front of me, just to the right. Just at the corner of my field of vision. And started canoodling. And then did some more of it. And some more. In fact, they only stopped when the film came on. Oh, and when they had to stand to let someone past them. And then they were at it again within 30 seconds. Very distracting. It also occurred to me that this was a strange choice for a date movie..

Well, it does what it says on the tin - it's a film, made in 2000, about homeless people in a disused subway tunnel in New York. They built themselves their own shacks and everything, underground. The filmmaker made this all on his own, interviewing these people and using them as film assistants when they weren't being interviewed. With something like this, you might worry that it all becomes a bit like an anthropological study, a bit dull. And it starts off like that. But this film is highly rated for a reason - it really takes off when we start to get to know the characters, meet and know the people, some of whom have been down there for up to 25 years. Some of them have horrific stories, some are hilarious. In the end, Amtrak decided they didn't want them down there anymore, and after negotiation, the city was prevailed upon to provide them with housing permits, and they got apartments of their own. Above ground. And you come away with a real interest in these people, and hoping they got on ok with their lives thereafter.

And then it lashed rain all the way home. And the traffic lights are still out, where I have to cross the road. Bah humbug!

Let's hope for better weather tomorrow, when I'm going to see The Night of the Hunter, finally, at the British Film Institute. Which involves crossing a bridge. Unfortunate thing is, given that I'm in the Guildford office next day, I'll need to take my laptop with me. Up all those steps, and probably standing on a packed Tube.. ugh. Well, it's exercise, at least! Not going out after I come back from Guildford, I'll be too tired. Then I fly to Ireland for the weekend - and I keep forgetting to mention, I'm going to see the Ennis Gospel Choir on Saturday. And I'm going to the opening night of the Beckett Trilogy on Monday..

Film: Happiness

This sounded good, on the ICA website. "Happiness: Todd Solondz' shocking third feature is one of the boldest ensemble comedies ever produced in America, depicting the intertwining romantic lives of a group of dysfunctional New Jersey suburbanites." So, that sold me!

Had trouble getting there on time, what with delays of my own, coupled with numerous unscheduled stops, as usual, on the District Line. No wonder Google Maps advised me to take the Piccadilly! But I didn't, and arrived about five minutes late. And sweaty - the Tube had been crowded and hot, despite the cool weather.

At least this wasn't the BFI, which frowns very much on latecomers. No, they were happy to sell me a ticket and tell me I could sit wherever I wanted. The place was only half full, so that was easy. I arrived during the ads - again, the BFI doesn't tend to show ads, which is awkward if you're delayed. Here, the ads are all for films - I don't like missing film ads, but what could I do.. I did annoy someone by blowing my nose noisily during an ad, which made me paranoid for the rest of the film.

And the film opened, and I thought - o hell, I've seen this! That opening scene, with Jane Adams on an awkward date with Jon Lovitz in a restaurant.. that looked familiar. And Cynthia Stevenson as her sister, Trish - that looked familiar. Then there were bits that weren't. I finally concluded that I had probably seen it, but as it's 15 years old and I couldn't remember a single thing about it, that was fine.

So, we also have Trish's psychiatrist husband Bill, played by Dylan Baker - Lara Flynn Boyle as her other sister, Helen - the late Ben Gazzara as their father - and Philip Seymour Hoffman, who's also one of Bill's patients and has an obsession with Helen, and Camryn Manheim as Helen's neighbours. Quite a few familiar faces, then.

I absolutely love this film. I completely understand why I saw it before - if I did. If you don't find something in this film to shock you, you must be dead. We are presented with so many taboos, not in a provocative way, but gently, as part of the intricate plot. It's outrageous - and it's hilarious. Should be required viewing. Sadly, that was its only showing for the time being. But keep an eye out for it!

Tomorrow is looking like Earthbound, at the Vue Piccadilly. It's sci-fi, as you might expect, and tarnation if it isn't Irish as well! When did we start making sci-fis..? Anyway, lots of vaguely familiar faces in this. To me, at least. The most famous of whom - to me - is Carrie Crowley, who used to be a presenter on RTÉ television. Sadly, it's only on at a cinema in Piccadilly, which makes the whole journey more confusing. Ah well..!

Film: Winter of Discontent

Tonight, I went to see the film Winter of Discontent, in the Institute of Contemporary Arts. Just to be sure I remembered where it was - it being a while since I was there - I consulted Google Maps, only to find them giving me what I knew were not the best directions, despite not being strictly incorrect. They had me changing Tube lines to go to Piccadilly Circus - when I knew the direct Tube to Embankment brought me just as close - and then the walking directions had me going to the back of the ICA. Just as well I've been before.. I've reported the problem. They've been having a few of those lately.

Anyway, as usual, I left it a bit tight and had something of a brisk walk. Didn't have time to peruse their excellent bookshop - but I did arrive while the ads were still on and the trailers hadn't started yet.

This is a really excellent film, dealing with the revolution of 2011 in Egypt, and set in Cairo. It focuses specifically on a young couple - he involved with what the government considers seditious activities on the internet, she a television presenter. The film shows them break up over his commitment to change, while she remains loyal to the establishment - but we see her gradual awakening to what's going on around her, and the change in her priorities. We follow their story up to the point of Mubarak's resignation.

For a film that's set largely in police torture units, and shows actual torture scenes, as well as street protests, it's surprisingly gentle, and thoughtful. The cinematography is beautiful, and the characters compelling. Nearly every scene makes you think - when it isn't gripping you with suspense. A real tribute to the revolution, and a credit to the filmmakers.

Just a thought, though. I'm currently reading a book about Al-Jazeera, the Arab tv news station, famous in the Arab world for not being a mouthpiece for any government, but instead reporting fairly and truthfully. And, out of curiosity, I logged onto their website. Where I noticed a story about how Egypt is blocking their signals. What does the interim military government not want broadcast..? Ironic, given that much of the film concerns media censorship. Plus ca change..

Anyway. Tomorrow is a trilogy of documentaries by Satyajit Ray, an Indian filmmaker, at the British Film Institute. And we get an extra short film at the end, which is nice. I'm there again on Saturday, for Alice Walker: Beauty in Truth. Yes, I'll get through this film list eventually!

Film: The Killing of a Chinese Bookie

Well, it was to be a film last night, and The Killing of a Chinese Bookie was the highest-rated (according to IMDB) film showing in London last night that I might be interested in. Apart from Made of Stone, which is about the Stone Roses, whom I'm not so interested in (the film has now slipped to 6.9, but anyway), and a film whose name I've now forgotten, about some rock guitarist who was diagnosed with Lou Gehrig's disease at 19 and told he wouldn't have long to live, and here he is 20 years later. Yay. Except he can only move his eyes, which is how he makes music, apparently. I wish him well, but do I want to sit through a documentary on him?

So I took myself off to the aforementioned "Killing of a Chinese Bookie". On the way, had the immensely satisfying experience of being asked for directions by someone outside West Ken station, who couldn't find the street she wanted on the map, and.. I knew without having to look it up! I pass it often! Rare, that feeling. Anyway, the film was in the Institute of Contemporary Arts. I like going here, they have a terrific bookshop - which gives me lots of ideas for things to buy later, cheaper, online - but being on the Mall, it's also close to lots of touristy things, so gives me a good excuse to gape and take photos.

 Regent Street

 

Oh, and the army were loading horses back onto trucks as I arrived, whatever they'd been at - there is always something on the Mall. Gorgeous gilt livery.. Didn't have time to browse the bookshop this time, the cinema was open by the time I got there, and rapidly filled. Mind you, it was the small screen, and the last night this was showing. The film itself was interesting, a 70s thriller about the owner of a strip club in LA, in debt to the Mob, who, being an army veteran with some experience of killing people, has to pay back the Mob by getting rid of this particular Chinese bookie for them. Now, if this were a recent film and starred Bruce Willis, or Colin Farrell, or Jason Statham, or the like, it'd be all action and car chases and a damsel in distress. And probably boring, formulaic stuff. This, on the other hand, occupied itself much more with the character of the guy who has to repay the debt. Far from car chases, the car they've stolen for him breaks down in the middle of the freeway. An intense film, set in seedy environs, but with a heart.

 

And so back up Regent Street..

 

 

'Tis looking like Flown at the Udderbelly Festival tonight. Well, who could resist the lure of an upside-down, oversized, purple cow? Then back to Ireland for Colm Wilkinson on Friday.

Film: It's Such a Beautiful Day

See? I said to watch this space.

The original plan was to go to Yellow Face, in Finsbury Park. Takes about 44mins, according to Google Maps, on the Piccadilly Line - nearest station to me on that line is Baron's Court. So I set out about an hour before the play was due to start, at about 2.15, got to Baron's Court about 2.30 (got waylaid on the way by people asking for directions I couldn't give), only to find that Baron's Court was closed! The railway worker barring the entrance didn't give me any more information.

I knew I wouldn't make it now - the next nearest station was Earl's Court, in the other direction, and by the time I'd walked there I'd have no chance. Just as well I hadn't bought a ticket - might go on Tuesday, I have as yet nothing booked for that day. Plan B was a film, but the film at the top of my list (highest showing in terms of IMDB ratings), Amores Perros, I remembered was only showing at 2.35 and, wherever it was showing, I wouldn't make it now. So back home I went to discover why Baron's Court was unexpectedly closed, and see what the next available film on my list was.

On the way, saw more people with cases, trying to hail a taxi. There were a lot of people with cases around. I'm guessing this was because of the sudden closure of Baron's Court. Heavens, it only just occurred to me that many of them might have been trying to get to Heathrow - that's the way I go myself. Yikes, that would be a problem, trying to make a flight.. Anyhoo, when I got online, I discovered that the reason for the closure was a trespasser on the line. Makes a change from the more usual "person under a train". And identified the next-highest rated film on my list as the above-mentioned It's Such a Beautiful Day, the feature-length compilation of three short animated films by Don Hertzfeldt. It was showing in the Institute of Contemporary Arts at 8.15, which gave me plenty of time. And now I knew straight away to walk to Earl's Court.

I was peckish, so figured I'd head off pretty soon and grab something to eat in town. Getting off at Embankment, I knew there were plenty of eateries I hadn't tried on Villiers Street, and hit on the first that looked decent - La Piazza, an unassuming Italian. Service wasn't the quickest, but I had plenty of time, and the food was rather good. Not the best I've ever had, I give it about a 6/10, but I had the sirloin, and noticed how much better it was than the one I had in Garfunkel's last Friday.

Now, I should know better than to eat in Garfunkel's, I find standards have really slipped there, but it was right across from the theatre, and I was hungry, so.. Frankly, shoe leather came to mind. I am not in the habit of sending food back, but when she asked how my meal was and I remarked it was tough, she offered to change it and I decided that was wise. When I got another steak, it was edible, but this was obviously because it had been cooked for longer, and it was not as tasty as the first had been. Still, all right with the sauce (which was extra). Now, that's the problem I have with cooking sirloin - I cannot get it tender enough, so I don't do it. I have been in plenty of restaurants where they have served perfectly cooked, tasty steak, soft as butter. Garfunkel's doesn't seem to have learned the knack of this. Avoid.

After my meal tonight, I decided to mooch around Trafalgar Square for a while. On the way, was waylaid by yet another lost tourist, who wanted Covent Garden. Took me forever to find where we were, and where it was, in maps on my phone. Why she didn't have a maps app on her iPad, I really can't say. Then continued on my mooch. Photos on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10201537583305742.1073741832.1361836980&type=1&l=ff73f0193b
BTW, forgot to post the photo I took yesterday in Pizza Express. Will do that when finished here.

Strolling down the Mall to the ICA, noticed a whole herd of people, corralled like cattle and wondered what was on.

Haven't been in the ICA since January, so I was delighted to have the excuse again. They have the most fascinating bookshop, but I don't know how it makes any money, with people such as myself (and I did see someone else at it!) seeing interesting books and immediately going online on their phones to see whether they can get them cheaper. Every time I'm in there, I get more ideas of books to buy. Online. And then I hung out in the bar upstairs, with a lemonade (it was quite warm out) and mooched around some more until it was film time.

Well, Don Hertzfeldt is quite endearingly demented, and so are his cartoons. There's a very funny series of ads he was commissioned to write, which are shown before the feature, and were apparently all rejected by the clients. You can see why. I would have too. Some can be seen on YouTube. The feature is quite good. :-) This was the last night of it, and I'm rather glad I got to go.

Coming out, there was some kind of a rock concert in full blast across the road and down Horse Guards Parade. After some searching, I've discovered it was Muse. Well, that settles that then.

Chimerica, at the Almeida Theatre tomorrow night. Tube trespassers permitting..