How I stopped going to the hairdresser…And why I probably won’t ever go back

There are two kinds of people in the world: Those who take every cough and sniffle to the doctor; and those who only visit the doctor when they’re REALLY ill.

I am most definitely the latter. The way I see it is, that if I can self -medicate (pop over to the pharmacist for some decongestants and an expectorant cough syrup) – I will self-medicate. And in most cases it usually saves me about half a grand in medical bills. Don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of occasions where you need a professional’s expertise: Like when you have an impacted wisdom tooth (no matter how many homeopathic remedies you try on that, and god knows I tried them all) you will need to have a dentist check it out.

I’ve been cutting my own fringe since I was about 13. I had those blunt bangs that celebs, like Zooey Deschanel, make look adorable and effortless. They’re not. They need to be trimmed regularly and styled daily. And my parents were not going shell out money for me to go to the hairdresser every time it needed trimming. So I read an article in a women’s mag about how to DIY your fringe and I haven’t looked back since. But being able to trim my bangs, does not a hairdresser make. Over the years, I’ve found other ways to avoid going to the hairdresser: I box-dyed my hair black for the good part of a decade, and only ever went into a salon when I wanted to treat myself to an edgy new haircut. Because the truth of the matter is that when visiting a professional, you are paying for their professional skills and that can be expensive.

After moving to Johannesburg, where you can expect to pay no less than R1000 (if you’re lucky) for a colour and cut at the salon, even those infrequent haircuts I was treating myself to, became more costly than I was willing to pay. So I just stopped. I went online and searched for tutorials on how to cut my graduated bob, and did it myself. Slowly cutting hair became a hobby and friends and family, also looking to avoid the costs of going to the salon, would ask me if I’d be willing to give them a trim. It’s easy enough to cut your own hair because the only person to blame if it turns out badly is yourself, but if I was going to lift the scissors to someone else’s hair, I was going to have to do a lot more research: How to trim split ends without cutting off length? How to put layers into thick hair? And so on and so forth. But even after being brave enough to try cut a friend’s shoulder length hair into a spiky fauxhawk (successfully), I would always recommend getting your hair coloured at a salon, because I’d heard too many horror stories about home colouring going badly ( carrot-coloured hair only looks good on so few people). So when I decided it was time to switch up my black bob by adding a blue streak, off to the salon I went.

Now here’s the thing with hairstylists, they have the responsibility to have you leave there with your hair looking fabulous and well looked after – That’s what you’re paying them for, and their reputation is at stake. So after three hours in the chair, where my long-suffering hairstylist was trying to safely strip 10 years’ worth of box-dye build-up off my hair so that the blue colour would show up vibrantly, I left unsatisfied. The blue was not vibrant because if she were to bleach my hair any further, it would be damaged and she could not in good conscience let me leave the salon with damaged hair.

In a moment of desperation (read:insanity) I went to the supermarket and picked up a Garnier pre-lightening kit (ignored the warning labels on the box) and threw caution to the wind. I researched online how to home-bleach your hair, the precautions you need to take, and how to fix it if it all goes horribly wrong (I had a box of black dye on hand, just in case). With the help of some purple shampoo and some trial and error, the results were awesome. My hair, albeit damaged and crunchy, was a brilliant blonde. I bought moisture treatments, and read up about how avocado, olive oil, cocoa butter, and even yoghurt can be used to create moisturising masks that give some life back to over-bleached tresses. I had done the damage and I would have to rectify it, because there was no way I was going to endure the shame of walking into a salon and explaining that I had fried my hair within an inch of its life with a home bleaching kit. Too many times had I had to deal with a hairstylist rolling their eyes or tut-tutting under their breath because I’d dyed my own hair or trimmed my own fringe. But it is my hair and I will do with it what I want.

Forgoing the professional treatment means that I had to take responsibility over the health and condition of my hair. But it was worth it. Cashiers began complimenting me on the colour, strangers would approach me in malls and ask me what salon I’d been to, and once a hairdresser even walked out of their salon to stop me in the street to compliment me on my hair. Then and there I made the decision not to go back to a hairdresser, partly because I would never again have to pay a hairdresser to give me the hair I wanted against their better judgement and partly because I now had the confidence to experiment with it on my own.

It’s been nearly three years since my last real trip to a salon and in that time, I managed to perfect a red to blonde ombre on my sister’s hair, I’m helping a friend bleach her own box-dyed black hair to blonde, and have bleached my whole head to the point where I can home-dye it a vibrant indigo (with the help of my patient girlfriend and her steady hands). It hasn’t been smooth sailing at all, because I am not a professional, but with the help of many online tutorials and blogs (Man! I love the Internet) I can do whatever I want to my hair without the fear that it will all fall out.

I have a fair amount of hairdresser friends, who are brilliant and skilled at what they do and will probably scoff at most of what I’ve said here. And I don’t recommend this route for everyone, because not everyone is as brave (read: reckless) as I am or as frugal. But thanks to all my research and trial and error, I am happily walking around with vibrant purple-blue hair that has never been in a better condition. And I did it myself.

*I’m also currently trying out an all natural way to keep my hair clean and healthy ( the ‘no poo’ method) but more on that later…if it works 🙂

Because i’m a blue haired fairy princess!

My Before Hair: box-dyed and self-cut

Blonde Dana

Why the Oscars aren’t all that

I’ve tried writing this post half a dozen times. Every time I watch an underrated piece of brilliance, or every time I’m disappointed by an Oscar-winning performance and specifically when I hear people wank off about Natalie Portman‘s performance in Black Swan. Don’t get me wrong, the film is extraordinarily beautiful. I bow to the genius behind the costuming and design. The subtle metamorphosis of the character of Nina, shown quietly through the costuming, was a truly praise worthy endeavor within this film. Let’s not forget the visual effects. THAT scene; that phenomenal transformation in the final scenes of the movie where the black swan literally grows her wings. That was incredible! But my beef is with Portman’s performance. Was she good? Yeah. Was she extraordinary? I beg to differ. I admire the dedication, the hours of training that went into her nailing the choreography; I admire her for taking on a role so dark and out of character for her. But that is the crux of why she got the Oscar. Audiences were pleasantly surprised by seeing Portman’s transform into this darker role. The Academy loves when actors delve into the darker aspects despite the actors own squeaky clean image ala Charlize Theron in Monster.

There’s four aspects that I can pin down that undoubtedly attract the Academy’s attention: Physical transformation is a definite draw card. Charlize Theron isn’t the only one: Hilary Swank in Boys Don’t Cry, Helen Mirren in The Queen, Ben Kingsley in Gandhi, Nicole Kidman in The Hours, even the infallible Meryl Streep in The Iron Lady. I also have very little doubt that Daniel Day Lewis stands a bloody good chance of nabbing the Oscar  this year for his transformation into Abraham Lincoln in Lincoln. There’s another draw card that these all have in common – they’re all biopics. The Academy loves a biopic! There’s something about an actor playing a role of a non-fiction real life person that truly gets the Academy whet. Think: Sean Penn as Harvey Milk; Jamie Foxx as Ray Charles, Julia Roberts as Erin Brockovich, Marion Cottilard as Edith Piaf.  It’s almost as if, because you are playing a real person, it makes it easier to rate your performance against an actual rubric. The third trick to bagging oneself an Oscar is by going gaga. Several Oscar winners did so by playing some sort of deranged, mentally ill, or impaired character which is in my opinion fair; it’s easy to play drunk but it’s not easy to skillfully play crazy. Think: Sir Anthony Hopkins in Silence of the Lambs, Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man, Kathy Bates’ extraordinary performance in Misery, Tom Hanks in Forrest Gump, Angelina Jolie in Girl, Interrupted, I mean hell, Jack Nicholson scored two Oscars for his portrayal of crazy in both One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest and As Good as it Gets. And lastly, and maybe even less so, attention is given to the classics: Chicago, A Streetcar named Desire,  Gone With The Wind, To Kill a Mockingbird, My Fair Lady, a Shakespeare, that sort of thing.

So as easy as it is to chart the ‘what it takes’ of grabbing the Academy’s attention, it’s difficult to figure out how by these standards, Leonardo DiCaprio is still left wanting. Now I understand that certain amazing performances get overlooked because of their genre. Anne Hathaway was phenomenal in Love and Other Drugs, as was Johnny Depp in Alice in Wonderland and Robert Downey Jr in Iron Man but the Academy doesn’t hand out Best Actor awards for rom-coms, fantasy and superhero  flicks quite as freely as with a good old-fashioned drama. But Leo DiCaprio isn’t making rom-coms now is he? DiCaprio has over his  film career (which spans over twenty years) fulfilled the above criteria. He has portrayed many a troubled mind from his 1993 What’s Eating Gilbert Grape to 2010’s Shutter Island (not counting the little bit of loopy that occurred in The Beach in 2000). Leo has added his face to a number of biopic leads. He played J Edgar Hoover in 2011, Howard Hughes in The Aviator in 2004, con man Frank Abagnale Jr in Catch Me If You Can  in 2002. He’s transformed his looks, making him suitable to play both the naive heart-throb in Titanic and the evil slave owner in Taratino’s Django Unchained (which he hasn’t gotten an Oscar nod for) and took a fair whack at the South African accent (which is notoriously the hardest accent to fake) in Blood Diamond . He’s dabbled in the classics playing Shakespeare’s Romeo in Baz Lurhmann‘s 1996 extravaganza and King Louis the Great in a Man With The Iron Mask. Frankly there are very few of DiCaprio’s roles that haven’t deserved a little gold statuette. And if you disagree with me, maybe offer a glance to the extensive list of nominations (and awards) that Leo’s roles have gotten.

If the old adage that you can judge a man by the company he keeps, is true, then Leo is even more overdue for his Oscar. He’s worked with many Academy Award winning actors and directors. The likes of Meryl Streep, Robert de Niro, James Cameron, Tom Hanks, Steven Spielberg, and Jack Nicholson are among his colleagues. And Martin Scorsese of all people loves him. And yet in all his years on the silver screen DiCaprio has only managed to get three Academy Award nominations, all of which he didn’t win. Enough of the “it’s an honor just to be nominated” bullshit, can the Academy please just give Leonardo DiCaprio an Oscar already?

Sadly Leo’s snub isn’t the only one, but at least for him there’s the hope which lies in the upcoming release of Lurhmann’s The Great Gatsby (now that’s a classic role if ever there was one). Which brings me to my point: How can we believe that the Academy Awards are the be all and end all of cinematic glory when the likes of Natalie Portman can scoop one up with a once-off performance but Leonardo DiCaprio can be overlooked time and time again.

Related articles

• Even You Can Be Nominated for an Academy Award! (lilyincanada.wordpress.com)
• ‘Lincoln’ leads Oscar nominations (bizjournals.com)
• OSCARS: Who Got Snubbed By Academy? (deadline.com)

Gaga – ooh la la!

Lady GaGa (Photo credit: ama_lia)

She’s crazy. At times irreverent. Undoubtedly avant-garde.Her fashion choices are off the wall and often get more publicity than her music or her message. She is aptly named Lady Gaga and she is the  biggest pop sensation in the world with over 31 million followers on Twitter. When someone that big comes to perform in South Africa – you go to the concert. And if you didn’t, here’s what you missed:

The set was elaborate – a multi-layered castle that shifted and changed throughout the performance; the dance routines were tight and infallible; the costumes were as extravagant as can be expected from a woman famed for wearing a dress made out of meat. And the performance… possibly too incredible to explain. From the most spectacular entrance atop a unicorn, to birthing herself, to the slickest costume changes and even showing a bit of ass, Mother Monster knows how to put on a show. I was expecting an extravaganza and I was far from disappointed. What was most impressive, and I’m sure the multitudes of South African little monsters will agree, was not the earth shattering theatrics of it all but rather the intimate, delicate moments. Behind the flamboyance of her as an icon charges forth the message of self-acceptance, freedom of expression and not giving a fuck. Whether you’re a card-carrying little monster or just someone who was just who happened upon tickets, it would be very hard to deny how genuine Lady Gaga is about her social footprint. She doesn’t just say that ‘there’s nothing wrong with loving who you are’ she lives it, she wears it in her outrageous wardrobe, you hear it in the tender growl of her voice when she all but tears up while engaging with her fans.

This woman is legit. A little gaga, (to borrow from Linda Woolverton’s Alice in Wonderland) mad, bonkers, off her head. But I’ll tell you a secret… All the best people are.

Related articles

• Why I Loved Lady Gaga’s Monsters Ball (gabriellapintosblog.wordpress.com)

50 Shades of Anticipation

Unlike a lot of my highly educated peers, instead of being too smart to buy into the hype of a lot of pop culture, I like to be in on a craze. So when I heard about the Twilight-fan fiction turned sexy BDSM erotica book series that is 50 Shades of Grey etc, I wanted in; I want to know what everyone’s on about. I want to know whether it’s worth the hype. I believe that you have to earn the right to have an opinion. So I read the books, all three in four days, which has something to say about my inner book-worm but more as a credit to the writer’s ability to create an un-put-downable story. Maybe at first the appeal of the books is the thrill of reading something a little risque: turning page after page waiting for the naughty bits. (A little juvenile yes, but you can’t deny it) but eventually there has to be something more right? There has to be more to it than some “kinky fuckery” loosely strung together with a storyline featuring borrowed characters, right? To have topped the best-seller lists around the world, set the record as the fastest-selling paperback of all time and sold over 40 million copies worldwide, there has got to be more to it right? Well perhaps, or perhaps Ms James has tapped in on something the Mills&Boons type have been missing all along. Whatever it is, the fact is that these books are a hit and are in the process being made ready for a silver screen debut. And this is where I really get interested, because those who may not ever read the book, will possibly still watch the film.

Dana Brunetti has signed on as producer which is great. His name is on such brilliant films as 21 and The Social Network. British writer Kelly Marcel has been chosen as screenwriter (much to the dismay of Bret Easton Ellis – the mastermind behind American Psycho who had thrown his name in the hat for the job). And ever since the movie rights had been sold, fangirls are heating up the interwebs with their picks for who should be cast in the film adaptation. I wait in anticipation for how this movie will turn out for a number of reasons. Firstly the books have an insane following, much like Twilight and the Harry Potter series, the sheer number of fans of the series suggests that the movie will rake it in at the box-office. The trouble with fanpeeps of any kind is that producers need to live up to the expectations that the fans have, based on their own imaginings of the story. When I heard that Ellis was interested in writing the screenplay I was excited. Surely the creative mind behind American Psycho, would add depth to a story that is so easily dismissed by many as mommy porn for bored housewives. Marcel who wrote the now cancelled Fox series, Terra Nova, will have to prove that she can take James’ much loved characters and develop them into Hollywood gold. Then of course one must discuss the subject matter. Essentially 50 Shades is a love story (yes, behind all the spanking and bondage, there is a love story in there) and a coming of age journey for protagonist Anastasia Steele, without which the film would disintegrate into pseudo-pornographic drivel. What this film will have to do (somehow) is: to create a meaty script that doesn’t underplay the character developments that James tactfully envisioned; to employ a director whose creative vision complements the story in a way that can demand respect from all the 50 Shades naysayers; to not water down the density of the sex scenes (please Hollywood, don’t aim for a PG rating and lose the integrity of the story) and to cast actors who not only fulfill both James’ and the fans’ inner imaging of the characters but also add their own level of complexity to make the characters translate from page to screen.

On the topic of casting, which has created much hoopla amongst fans, one must remember, that as with Twilight, the careers of these actors will be skyrocketed, based on the level of publicity that the film with generate. Rumours are currently circulating regarding which actors and actresses might be in talks for the roles. Mila Kunis since being named Esquire’s Sexiest Woman, is a new favourite for Ana Steele. Other options vary from Amanda Seyfried to Emma Watson (who in my opinion would add an interesting level of naivete to the role, and would benefit from shedding her Hermione roots) . Fan favourites for the male lead, this Christian Grey who has become so many women’s fantasy man, include Matt Bomer and my number 1 choice, Ian Somerhalder (who already has showcased his ability to play a character who is troubled and complex, sexy as all hell, and generally good at heart in The Vampire Diaries).

Whichever way the production team goes, what I know for sure is that this will seriously be a movie to look out for (whether you’re a fan of the books, or too cool to get caught up in the hype) because it is a pioneer in integrating sexually explicit subject matter so publicly into the mainstream. Sex is an integral part of the human experience and is often treated as a dirty secret we’d rather not portray on screen. My hope is that this could start changing the perception of sex in media, because I would much rather watch a well put together film including gratuitous sex than a cheesy porno with no plot. Good luck Brunetti, we’ll be waiting.

Related articles

• Bret Easton Ellis Slams Fifty Shades of Grey Screenwriter Choice, Producer Slams The Canyons (uk.eonline.com)

I watch far too much TV

Now before you judge me, let me set the record straight, I admit that there is plenty of drivel on TV. Plenty of reality TV bullshit that makes me lose faith not only in the integrity of viewership demographic but also the integrity of the suits who are siphoning money into making that shit. A friend of mine once said that every time someone watches the likes of Jersey Shore, that somewhere a book commits suicide; that it jumps off its bookshelf and bursts into flame. That drivel, unfortunately is a microcosm for the broad spectrum of crappola that is overloading our screens. Nowadays, everything in life gets its own TV show. Hillbilly Handfishing, for example is a television show solely dedicated to showcasing some back water citizens catching catfish, wait for it, with their hands. (As a side note, this is both ridiculous and perversely fascinating and if you happen to stumble upon it in an insomnia-induced stupor, its entertainment value is remarkable.)  But although the quantity of different programmes is plentiful, the quality is frightfully lacking. The Real Housewives Who Need To Get Over Themselves, Keeping Up With Fame Obsessed Families and Toddlers and Their Inappropriate Mothers Living Vicariously Through Them.  Yes, because those shows enrich my life and make me a better person. (If you don’t read the sarcasm there, please do us both a favour and read no further) It’s very rare for a television programme to come around that strays from the already laid out cheap template of what gets good ratings. It’s very rare that the medium is ever used to its full potential.

People watch television. And that’s the bottom line. TV has an audience and a large one at that. Children’s programming seems to be the only kind that has honed in on the fact that television can be used to educate. That television has the ability to ignite positive change. Reality television programming however, seems to aim to do nothing more than to provide a voice to people whose views may be better left unheard. Mostly I seek out comedy shows that can keep me giggling at the very least or a cooking show that makes me feel guilty for not spending more time in the kitchen. Every now and then something with a good storyline comes around and suddenly everyone is watching it, and talking about it. Game of Thrones is one such show. Once you’ve seen an episode you realize that you’ll soon be changing your schedule so as to not miss another installment. And once you’re hooked you don’t even realize the life lessons that sneak into your entertainment regiment: “A Lannister always pays his debts” reminds us all that every favour shouldn’t go unrewarded. The character of the young and merciless King Joffrey has taught series fanatics the old adage that ultimate power corrupts. All these little subliminal suggestions that one picks up when we’re paying attention.

Which brings me to my original point, I watch far too much television, not that it bothers me too much, because as an entertainment scholar, I like to be in the loop. And right now, I’d like to entice others to get in the loop. Even though I watch a lot of television it is rare to come across something that truly deserves airtime. And I have recently found a show that deserves viewership; that show is HBO’s The Newsroom. Have you seen it? If not, make a plan, because finally someone is paying to put something on our screens that is relevant, intelligent and entertaining. It has after one season already claimed the title as HBO’s most watched series since 2008 with a premiere viewership of 2.1 million viewers. The plot premise follows a team of newsmen who are repositioning their programming to showcase ‘the news that the voting public needs to hear’ rather than kowtowing to ratings. Of course the show also has all the relationship entanglements that help viewers relate to the characters and keeps them coming back for more, but mostly the very dialogue-driven script, is asking smart questions about our society and the media’s influence and responsibility. The show has been criticized for being too leftist, too smug, too full of sermonizing diatribes, too soapboxy I presume. But frankly all that those critiques prove is that The Newsroom is creating debate, which is something that quality television should pride itself on.

My personal take on it is that it’s brilliant. It’s an articulate, intellectual, witty show that stands in broad contrast to television’s recent trend towards idiocy. And among a stellar ensemble cast, it stars Dev Patel ( Yes, that guy from Slumdog Millionaire) and you should watch it, maybe to see him as something other than that guy from Slumdog Millionaire. Watching The Newsroom is, at the moment, the highlight of my television viewing and I watch each episode thanking the heavens for PVR so that I can rewind and replay each ingeniously written dialogue. You know what, I admire it so much that I am willing to end this post with one all-encompassing sentence: Watch The Newsroom, it will make you a better person.

Related articles

• Critics hate Aaron Sorkin’s Newsroom, but it’s a hit anyway (theweek.co.uk)
• 5 Reasons Why You Should Stick With HBO’s ‘The Newsroom’ (screencrave.com)
• Newsroom (HBO New Series) (dbryantsimmons.com)

let sleeping stars lie

Image via Wikipedia

A great musical icon has recently kicked the bucket. And that is sad. What is even sadder is that whilst the woman’s body is barely cold, the media is already trying to open every bottle of worms they can find or fabricate on her. Whitney Houston is one of the greatest vocalist’s to have ever lived. She was beautiful, talented and troubled. Three things the media loves to find in a celeb , particularly post-mortem. Marilyn Monroe, Kurt Cobain,  Michael Jackson, Amy Winehouse, Heath Ledger and now Whitney Houston. And in the same way that a media frenzy erupted when these talented powerhouses died, and the conspiracies and speculations surrounding their deaths spread like wildfire. Monroe was killed because of her relationship with JFK. Cobain was murdered. Jackson’s doctor is to blame. Winehouse was finally sober and the Illuminatti drugged her. Heath Ledger was killed by Scientologists. Houston was a lesbian and killed herself to escape the lies. Bla bla bla. Who cares? Why can’t we just afford the dead some respect, some of them who barely respected themselves? Why can’t we appreciate their legacy and be done with it.

 I consider myself to be quite the Elvis Presley fan. I consider him to be the King of Rock n Roll; I know that his career took a tacky sequined turn for the worst. He put on a lot of weight, took too many drugs and met his timely demise in the shitter. Stuff of fairytales, I tell you.  But his death doesn’t need to be anything more than it was. A  tragic end to the life of a beautiful, talented and troubled star. And when I think of Elvis, I remember him at his best and appreciate his legacy. So yes, who cares that the King was found in undignified circumstances, let his success override his lowest moments.

So back to the wonderful Whitney Houston. Was she an incredible talent, yes. Did her life, career, sobriety take the wrong road to nowhere, yes? But was she a card-carrying lesbian willing to end her life to escape the lies of her sexuality and public persona? I don’t know, but I also don’t really care. Whitney Houston may not have died with much dignity, but if she died with some secrets , I’m all for burying them along with her.

Die Antwoord vs Jack Parow and why Zef isn’t Ayoba

So one of  South Africa’s more successful exports was featured on The Letterman Show recently. ‘Whoop whoop, represent!”says I, because South Africa has a lot of talent and we deserve the international exposure , but when  I take a second and think of the case in point, the controversial rap duo, Die Antwoord, I cringe at the thought that they will be used as a benchmark or example of what South Africa has to offer. Especially because Die Antwoord is no more than a crude parody of a small sub-culture of the country.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m sure they have a target market, a following, a league of trashy minions desperate enough for attention that they would see Die Antwoord as some kind of idol and struggle infinitely with Antie’s clippers to get their hair to look just like Yolandi Vi$$ers. but seriously, what  value has Zef music/”style”/trend have in the SA music scene.

Let me be clear also, that i have no predisposition against controversial behavior either. Elvis Presley was seen to be so controversial that he was only broadcast on television from the waist up. Eminem, who albeit crass, is a lyrical God. But i find no genius in being tacky and gimmicky and passing it off as creative expression. I am not impressed by recycled beats and wanna-be shock factor lyrics

My obvious comparison for the day is to appraise them alongside Jack Parow: Similar listenership; similar cultural, or rather sub-cultural referencing; both have infiltrated the South African music industry with a welcomed dose of Afrikaans rap and local flavours. But Jack Parow is not trash.  Jack Parow is not faking it for the fans, Jack Parow is authentic. And that’s why it works because Parow gives up not a parody of  ‘south african white trash’ publicity act but rather a familiarity. His song ‘Ek mis’ has got to strike a personal chord with more than quite a handful of folks.

I buy into his music – because although its unmistakably South African it doesn’t taste like stale recycled-rainbow-nation-this-is-africa-die bokke-en-a-braai nonsence nor does it reflect the country in a way other than it is. Jack Parow, as a good mate of mine commented today, has actual talent to back up the gimmick whereas Die Antwoord are left clinging to it.

Okay, so I’ve tried, I’ve given it some thought, I love local music, but when it comes to Die Antwoord, I think you’re freaky but I don’t like you so much.

Why I’m proud to be a Gleek

Image via Wikipedia

The premise is simple: a group of high school misfits join an unpopular show-choir club and through following their passion to sing, make friends and find somewhere to belong. Sounds fairly humdrum and possibly cheesy, but the draw-card for me was, without a doubt, the music. The friend who suggested Glee to me described it as “ a show about kids in high school and their lives are basically a musical” and anyone who has ever appreciated Buffy the Vampire Slayer’s Season 6 Episode 7 “Once more with feeling” would be daft not to check it out. True entertainment superstars are sometimes called ‘triple threats’. These are the performers who can not only act, but also sing and dance. Glee features on-screen performance based musical treats and the performers have to be able to do it all. But the all singing, all dancing concept is one that is at risk of being camp and too showy. So then, why do I still proclaim to love Glee?  Because intertwined with punchy musical performances is a relevant storyline dealing with relationships, sexuality and social issues. But what wins me over, hook line and DVD box set is the music, because I am an ardent fan of cover versions of songs. A cover version, unlike a remix whose purpose is to better a song, is a rather a tribute, an ode. It says ‘I love this song as it is and this is my take on it’.

Glee’s creators have strived to maintain a balance between show tunes and current chart-toppers. Clever move if they want to please a larger demographic. Music taste is such a fickle bride to please. By doing cover songs of various genres, executed by young actors whose ambition matches those of their characters they produce fire. And notable success: The cast of Glee have had more songs chart than The Beatles and more Billboard hits than Elvis, showing that clearly the cast and creators of this show love the music and nothing can really detract from that.  From the Christmas classic ‘Baby, it’s cold outside’ made popular by big names such as Ella Fitzgerald, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr. and Ray Charles that gets a remake by a homosexual male pairing to episodes devoted to the likes of Britney Spears and Lady Gaga. I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to mention the mash-ups! Mixing Beyonce’s ‘Halo’ with ‘Walking on Sunshine’ or a go-right-now-and-get-your-hands-on-this fusion between Rihanna’s ‘Umbrella and Gene Kelly’s 1929 ‘Singin’ in the Rain’.

Even with all the mastery of cover songs, Glee has in its second season introduced original music. I raise an eyebrow and wait to be either highly disappointed or thoroughly impressed, but so far so good. Every episode I watch leaves me wishing that it could have an encore. And I’ve already asked Santa to leave the Glee music box set under my tree. It’s fun and upbeat but still seamlessly full of social critique and debate.  It’s unabashedly light and gleeful.

Accurate title I guess.

Br(e)ake Lights

Bare with me, as a non-driver I don’t know very much at all about the subtle nuances of driving and cars, but today on my walk home, I found myself utterly fascinated by brake lights. A simple little device: an indicator light that is activated the moment your vehicle is slowing down(braking). It warns other cars that you are slowing down and that if they don’t do the same they’re gonna ram into the back of you and have an unfortunate accident. That’s the gist of it right?

This got me thinking, as most things do, that it would be pretty handy if people came with break lights. Imagine, you meet someone you find attractive, it’s all passion and fireworks, you start with a little heavy petting but you’re not quite ready to take it to the next level physically so in the heat of the moment when things are getting a bit much your brake light goes on. And just like that they’re warned to slow it down to avoid an accident. No awkward conversation of “I really like you, but…” Because your brake lights said all you needed to say.

Here’s another scenario: A guy and a girl have been dating for a year or two; she starts to feel like the relationship should be progressing further. He says let’s move in together. She says let’s get married. His brake lights come on. He’s not saying “Hold up woman! I don’t wanna drive on the same road with you anymore” just that he is traveling at a different tempo to her and that if she doesn’t slow down,she’s gonna rear-end him and not in a good way.

Bascially there is no truer a phrase than “Take your time and do it right” y’know more haste less speed Hmmm, I wonder if that would work as a bumper sticker…/p>

more magical every time around

Image via Wikipedia

So I’m re-watching an old favourite and the mark of an amazing movie jumped out at me like a neon light. The mark of a brilliant movie, friends, is even after watching it several times (and by several I mean I say the lines moments before the characters do and know all the lyrics to all the songs on the soundtrack) and still find myself being blown away by its sheer excellence! And this I have found in PRACTICAL MAGIC.

Where does one begin to rave about this piece of cinema magic. Genius casting. Sandra Bullock, Stockard Channing (legend of note!) And Ms Nicole Kidman, to name just a few of the rock star actors mushed together as a wicked ensemble cast; a nuanced, humorous, intelligent and beautiful script; strikingly appropriate soundtrack and magnificently crafted camera angles and cinematography that one can’t help but tip your hat to.

Do yourself a favour, and watch it ( or rather re-watch it, because if you haven’t seen it by now, where have you been?). Magic like this just doesn’t get old… And neither do midnight marguerita’s!