I love the internet. If it were a person I would gladly throw myself at their service simply because they were so generous.
Through this technical marvel I was able to download and watch Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire last night. True, the quality of picture wasn’t exactly stellar but it was definitely watchable. And watch it I did.
Now, I didn’t really care for the first three films. One and two were so childish as to be rather embarrassing. Three, which held a lot more promise, was let down by the refusal of the child actors to act properly, resorting to ridiculous overacting (Emma Watson’s eyebrows I’m looking at you here) or simply not acting at all (Daniel Radcliffe’s “They were my parents!” strop came off as just that, a girly tiff rather than an explosion of hatred).
This time, however, they hit the nail on the head. Goblet of Fire is by far the best of the Potter books just as this is by far the best of the films. The kids can actually act in this one, you actually sympathise with them and there are some genuinely tense moments between Harry and Ron. Hermione still overacts though.
Moody is fantastic. Brendon Gleeson is quickly becoming one of my favourite British actors and he really brings something to a character than is perhaps my favourite from the books. Alan Rickman is also mind melting good again, even though he only gets about 3 lines of dialogue this time around. The only cast disappointment is Dumbledore. I thought Michael Gambon was shaping up to be a good Dumbledore, better than the “on deaths door” version playing by Richard Harris (however ironic that sentence may be). However, in this he’s not good. He isn’t Dumbledore from the books at all; I won’t spoil it but the scene after Harry’s name comes out of the Goblet is especially bad.
Voldemort is in this one. He looks great, he really does but he lacks any real menace. In fact, he lacks any menace at all, were it not for his makeup he would’ve been less imposing than Lucius Malfoy (who makes a welcome return). His “birth” scene is great though and would’ve scared the crap out of me if I’d seen it when I was 10.
The Special Effects in general are amazing. The start of the World Cup has to be seen to be believed (as clichéd as that may be), the dragon fight is excellent stuff and the merpeople are great too. It’s the little things that set it apart from the other films though; Sirius’ firey communiqué, the Unforgivable curses realised, the various shapechanges that some characters go through are brilliant (if rather disturbing) and even the design of the Water challenge seating is fantastic. (trust me).
Most importantly however, I think Hogwarts was done justice to in this film. In the others it just felt like somewhere the story could take place in; a location. Here it feels like a community. Many of the bit parts excluded from Prisoner of Azkhaban (Neville, Seamus etc) return in this and the film finally gets across that Harry, Ron and Hermione are not the only students at their school.
Although the film is noticeably darker, both literally and in story, it was still to me the closest to its literary counterpart. True, huge chunks have been missed out (gone are most of the Quiddich World Cup, Dobby, Winky, Ludo Bagman, Percy Weasley and the House Elf liberation attempt by Hermione) but I actually didn’t miss any of them all that much (maybe apart from the world cup which we are teased with but never really shown). Despite all of these losses, it felt the same as the book; foreboding but, for the time being, optimistic.
So, very good then. I’d highly recommend it to anyone who enjoyed the book. Really, I think the highest compliment I can pay to this is that it’s the first of the films to really remind me of how good the books are, and the first time I truly thought the characters from the books had hit the big screen in full.
Thursday, November 24, 2005
Tuesday, November 22, 2005
Saturday, November 19, 2005
Money
As I now know some people still read this thing I have endeavoured to write in it more often. Like now.
I’ve just come out of a class that I knew I was going to dislike. As luck would have it (or not) my first class on a Monday morning is the worst that I have at Hikawa. It’s awful; they never listen, Fukuda-sensei is unable to control them and I might as well not be there. Today was different however.
Today was worse. They were just literally not acknowledging our presence infront of the class. They acted as if they had a free period and were able to do what they liked for 50 minutes. Plus they had a cat. An actual cat. More of a kitten really. I was initially torn between two decisions, telling Fukuda-sensei or just watching the kitten. It was all ginger and lovely. After a few seconds though I felt it was my duty to inform my JTE so I did and the cat was promptly escorted out of the classroom. Where it went I will probably never know. Either the office or the nearest toilet bowl.
Anyway, the reason this one hasn’t gone up as soon as I’d hoped was that I’ve been getting headaches from staring at this damn screen so much. Argh.
Today I have been looking at the Xbox 360. Mmmm. It looks nice. Tempting. Especially as I have a 28” Flatscreen TV doing basically nothing, this’d give it a nice workout.
I don’t know why I’m torturing myself, I can’t afford one anyway. Not sure if I put this up here before but I’m going to Cambodia this Christmas and it’s costing me a pretty penny. At the moment I’m surviving off noodles and cups of tea and trying to limit my expenses as much as possible. I’ve started walking to work instead of driving, am conserving any usable resource such as kitchen towels and washing up liquid and have decided, as bad as it may get, not to turn on the heaters.
Now that last one may not seem too bad until you realise that it hits about 0 degrees here at night. Well, so it does in England sometimes, I hear you shout! True, but English houses have central heating. Insulation. Thick walls. My apartment does not, being designed for the hot weather of the summer. The walls are about 3cm thick, and I have no reason to guess the ceiling is any thicker. Basically, I may as well be outside. Last night I went to bed wearing shorts, jogging pants, two pairs of socks, two t-shirts and a cardigan. I was under three sheets. I was still cold. So cold that it woke me up several times during the night. Nice.
So, you can see that keeping the heaters off is a pretty big sacrifice. BUT, I am trying to put together a nice little wad for when I come home so…I’m sure I can live with it.
Hopefully.
Anyway, on to some pictures:
Hannah and a dam. An interesting combination.
Me and some schoolgirls. An erotic combination
I’ve just come out of a class that I knew I was going to dislike. As luck would have it (or not) my first class on a Monday morning is the worst that I have at Hikawa. It’s awful; they never listen, Fukuda-sensei is unable to control them and I might as well not be there. Today was different however.
Today was worse. They were just literally not acknowledging our presence infront of the class. They acted as if they had a free period and were able to do what they liked for 50 minutes. Plus they had a cat. An actual cat. More of a kitten really. I was initially torn between two decisions, telling Fukuda-sensei or just watching the kitten. It was all ginger and lovely. After a few seconds though I felt it was my duty to inform my JTE so I did and the cat was promptly escorted out of the classroom. Where it went I will probably never know. Either the office or the nearest toilet bowl.
Anyway, the reason this one hasn’t gone up as soon as I’d hoped was that I’ve been getting headaches from staring at this damn screen so much. Argh.
Today I have been looking at the Xbox 360. Mmmm. It looks nice. Tempting. Especially as I have a 28” Flatscreen TV doing basically nothing, this’d give it a nice workout.
I don’t know why I’m torturing myself, I can’t afford one anyway. Not sure if I put this up here before but I’m going to Cambodia this Christmas and it’s costing me a pretty penny. At the moment I’m surviving off noodles and cups of tea and trying to limit my expenses as much as possible. I’ve started walking to work instead of driving, am conserving any usable resource such as kitchen towels and washing up liquid and have decided, as bad as it may get, not to turn on the heaters.
Now that last one may not seem too bad until you realise that it hits about 0 degrees here at night. Well, so it does in England sometimes, I hear you shout! True, but English houses have central heating. Insulation. Thick walls. My apartment does not, being designed for the hot weather of the summer. The walls are about 3cm thick, and I have no reason to guess the ceiling is any thicker. Basically, I may as well be outside. Last night I went to bed wearing shorts, jogging pants, two pairs of socks, two t-shirts and a cardigan. I was under three sheets. I was still cold. So cold that it woke me up several times during the night. Nice.
So, you can see that keeping the heaters off is a pretty big sacrifice. BUT, I am trying to put together a nice little wad for when I come home so…I’m sure I can live with it.
Hopefully.
Anyway, on to some pictures:
Hannah and a dam. An interesting combination.
Me and some schoolgirls. An erotic combination
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Another
Another one? So soon? Why yes.
The last one ended up being a nostalgic ramble down memory lane which is fine if you’re me. If, however, you’re someone reading this who isn’t me, it may have been a little dull.
Anyway, what have I been up to I hear you ask? Well, with Hannah having come over for the last month or so I’ve been up to quite a bit. Firstly, there was our trip to Kumamoto City. Now considering this is a place I have been to multiple times you think I’d be well prepared for such an outing. Not so. I was terrified, this being my first time in the big bad city without someone who actually spoke Japanese. Shops that had once been friendly little opportunities for hilarity were now gaping holes of anxiety. Restaurants, rather than quaint and traditional eating holes, were now giant troughs infested with aliens whose language I have little grasp on. It was odd and no doubt rather frustrating for dear Hannah who I’d confidently told that I knew what I was doing.
Anyway, the weekend passed without any major hitches (although I did choose what seemed to be the most expensive hotel in the city to lodge in) and I’m assured fun was had by all.
Next was to be Fukuoka, the capital of Kyushu Island and the biggest city for hundreds of miles. Unfortunately we had to cancel this particular weekend sojourn as Hannah was feeling ill and was shouting at me. Well, not really but she had a shouty look in her eye. Instead we went to Amakusa Islands, an area of Kumamoto which, again, I have been to several times. This was far less nerve racking and very pleasant; we went for a stroll on the coast, we ate donuts, we met up with Megan (who the more observant of you may remember is the JET I went to Nagasaki with) and had tea. Then I drove home and feel asleep as soon as we entered the house.
We did eventually end up in Fukuoka, using one of my myriad of national holiday breaks. This time I actually planned; found a hotel that was reasonable, got the train times in advance and planned our trip to a tee. And everything went well; Fukuoka was gorgeous at night, like a little Tokyo full of lights, neons and Yattai, little portable noodle shops that seemingly bred into existence at night. However, I was still too nervous to venture into any of them for fear of ordering a plate of the owner’s Mother with baseball sauce. The next day we trekked about the city marvelling at the largeness of it all. It was very large indeed.
And then Hannah went away. This made me sad. It’s still taking a bit of getting used to coming home and finding the flat empty. Sometimes, I cry. Not really, but I do play Crying by Roy Orbison (at least that’s who I think it is) on my laptop. And also Herb Albert playing Spanish Flea which makes even the saddest situations better.
And MC Hammer.
The last one ended up being a nostalgic ramble down memory lane which is fine if you’re me. If, however, you’re someone reading this who isn’t me, it may have been a little dull.
Anyway, what have I been up to I hear you ask? Well, with Hannah having come over for the last month or so I’ve been up to quite a bit. Firstly, there was our trip to Kumamoto City. Now considering this is a place I have been to multiple times you think I’d be well prepared for such an outing. Not so. I was terrified, this being my first time in the big bad city without someone who actually spoke Japanese. Shops that had once been friendly little opportunities for hilarity were now gaping holes of anxiety. Restaurants, rather than quaint and traditional eating holes, were now giant troughs infested with aliens whose language I have little grasp on. It was odd and no doubt rather frustrating for dear Hannah who I’d confidently told that I knew what I was doing.
Anyway, the weekend passed without any major hitches (although I did choose what seemed to be the most expensive hotel in the city to lodge in) and I’m assured fun was had by all.
Next was to be Fukuoka, the capital of Kyushu Island and the biggest city for hundreds of miles. Unfortunately we had to cancel this particular weekend sojourn as Hannah was feeling ill and was shouting at me. Well, not really but she had a shouty look in her eye. Instead we went to Amakusa Islands, an area of Kumamoto which, again, I have been to several times. This was far less nerve racking and very pleasant; we went for a stroll on the coast, we ate donuts, we met up with Megan (who the more observant of you may remember is the JET I went to Nagasaki with) and had tea. Then I drove home and feel asleep as soon as we entered the house.
We did eventually end up in Fukuoka, using one of my myriad of national holiday breaks. This time I actually planned; found a hotel that was reasonable, got the train times in advance and planned our trip to a tee. And everything went well; Fukuoka was gorgeous at night, like a little Tokyo full of lights, neons and Yattai, little portable noodle shops that seemingly bred into existence at night. However, I was still too nervous to venture into any of them for fear of ordering a plate of the owner’s Mother with baseball sauce. The next day we trekked about the city marvelling at the largeness of it all. It was very large indeed.
And then Hannah went away. This made me sad. It’s still taking a bit of getting used to coming home and finding the flat empty. Sometimes, I cry. Not really, but I do play Crying by Roy Orbison (at least that’s who I think it is) on my laptop. And also Herb Albert playing Spanish Flea which makes even the saddest situations better.
And MC Hammer.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
Christmassy
Not doing very well with the updating of this am I. Oh well, I hope at least someone is still reading it.
I thought they didn’t have Christmas over here. I thought it was a western thing, a pleasantly commercialised ritual confined to those nations whose idea of a slap up meal is a beefburger and Doritos. Apparently not however. Since mid-October, every supermarket, grocers, general store and shopping centre has begun adorning its walls with enough tack to kill little baby Jesus and make Santa cry. The simple volume of the stuff hung up there makes you marvel at Japanese architecture and the amount of stress it must be capable of taking.
There’s stuff on sale too. Imagine, if you will, the average British bargain shop. For simplicity’s sake, lets imagine B&M bargains in Cleveleys, a vast maze of winding corridors bursting with tat. Now, lets pack it full of Japanese teenagers, all of whom are screaming at something or other. Got that? Ok. Now lets chuck in all the tackiest, noisiest, most plastic Christmas decorations you can think off. We’re talking Christmas trees with scary faces that appear out of nowhere, Santa models that blow polystyrene balls from their head as it t’were snow, Rudolphs constructed entirely out of neons which sing, for some reason, I Vow To Thee My Country. Imagine all that, and add in the shop décor we discussed above. Ok? Well you’re about halfway there.
Personally I love it. Those of you who know me quite well should also know that I love Christmas. I really do, it’s great. I love the build up to Christmas, the first Christmas adverts (usually Argos or Coke) appearing on TV. I love trying to decide on something expensive to ask for as a gift (and seeing my parents reactions when I actually do). Most of all, I love the strange feeling that everything is a bit better at this time of year. Everything is that less…serious.
My Christmas’ at Uni were a mixed bunch. I can’t for the life of me remember the first one, mainly because I was out of Horsforth as fast as my little legs could take me as soon as I could. I think the halls at Trinity and All Saints were probably the least festive place I’ve even been in my life. Claustrophobic, hospital white corridors led to tiny, cramped rooms with furniture dating back to the 70s. And not the cool, kitsch 70s; the 70s that invented paisley wallpaper and thought frilly lampshades were cool. If it were not for the people that lived there I may have been scarred for life. About Christmas.
2nd year Christmas was like most of the 2nd year…much better than the first. Had it not been for the horrible circumstances that year brought with it I have no doubt I would have enjoyed myself immensely. Infact, looking back on any period of my time at 10b Cumberland brings back pleasant memories and good times. I loved that place, and loved living there even more.
And that brings me nicely to this Christmas just gone. This perhaps is my favourite of the three, although extremely different. The last year at Uni was one of contrasts, the good with the bad. On one hand, 33 Cumberland Road was a terrible place to live physically. It was cramped, confined and promoted a separation of the people who lived there. No longer did we have communal dinners in the living room as the 33 Ebberston living room was a damp, drafty hellhole located in the basement, 3 flights of stairs away from me. The kitchen was possibly too big, and always too full of dirty washing and rubbish to congregate in. I really missed the community of 10b. However, thanks to a certainly lovely lady, I had a great Christmas period. Popping down to the Co-op for mince pies (me) and salad (her). Watching the Christmas period This Morning’s. Going to Starbucks and drinking Venti (me) and whatever small is in there (her) Eggnog lattes. All brilliant memories.
Anyway, I’m going on a bit now. I love Christmas you see. Expect more feverish festive ramblings soon.
I thought they didn’t have Christmas over here. I thought it was a western thing, a pleasantly commercialised ritual confined to those nations whose idea of a slap up meal is a beefburger and Doritos. Apparently not however. Since mid-October, every supermarket, grocers, general store and shopping centre has begun adorning its walls with enough tack to kill little baby Jesus and make Santa cry. The simple volume of the stuff hung up there makes you marvel at Japanese architecture and the amount of stress it must be capable of taking.
There’s stuff on sale too. Imagine, if you will, the average British bargain shop. For simplicity’s sake, lets imagine B&M bargains in Cleveleys, a vast maze of winding corridors bursting with tat. Now, lets pack it full of Japanese teenagers, all of whom are screaming at something or other. Got that? Ok. Now lets chuck in all the tackiest, noisiest, most plastic Christmas decorations you can think off. We’re talking Christmas trees with scary faces that appear out of nowhere, Santa models that blow polystyrene balls from their head as it t’were snow, Rudolphs constructed entirely out of neons which sing, for some reason, I Vow To Thee My Country. Imagine all that, and add in the shop décor we discussed above. Ok? Well you’re about halfway there.
Personally I love it. Those of you who know me quite well should also know that I love Christmas. I really do, it’s great. I love the build up to Christmas, the first Christmas adverts (usually Argos or Coke) appearing on TV. I love trying to decide on something expensive to ask for as a gift (and seeing my parents reactions when I actually do). Most of all, I love the strange feeling that everything is a bit better at this time of year. Everything is that less…serious.
My Christmas’ at Uni were a mixed bunch. I can’t for the life of me remember the first one, mainly because I was out of Horsforth as fast as my little legs could take me as soon as I could. I think the halls at Trinity and All Saints were probably the least festive place I’ve even been in my life. Claustrophobic, hospital white corridors led to tiny, cramped rooms with furniture dating back to the 70s. And not the cool, kitsch 70s; the 70s that invented paisley wallpaper and thought frilly lampshades were cool. If it were not for the people that lived there I may have been scarred for life. About Christmas.
2nd year Christmas was like most of the 2nd year…much better than the first. Had it not been for the horrible circumstances that year brought with it I have no doubt I would have enjoyed myself immensely. Infact, looking back on any period of my time at 10b Cumberland brings back pleasant memories and good times. I loved that place, and loved living there even more.
And that brings me nicely to this Christmas just gone. This perhaps is my favourite of the three, although extremely different. The last year at Uni was one of contrasts, the good with the bad. On one hand, 33 Cumberland Road was a terrible place to live physically. It was cramped, confined and promoted a separation of the people who lived there. No longer did we have communal dinners in the living room as the 33 Ebberston living room was a damp, drafty hellhole located in the basement, 3 flights of stairs away from me. The kitchen was possibly too big, and always too full of dirty washing and rubbish to congregate in. I really missed the community of 10b. However, thanks to a certainly lovely lady, I had a great Christmas period. Popping down to the Co-op for mince pies (me) and salad (her). Watching the Christmas period This Morning’s. Going to Starbucks and drinking Venti (me) and whatever small is in there (her) Eggnog lattes. All brilliant memories.
Anyway, I’m going on a bit now. I love Christmas you see. Expect more feverish festive ramblings soon.
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