…and not only are the nights drawing in (curtains shut at seven pm tonight) but it’s starting to feel decidedly backend-ish outside!
This is in sharp contrast to temperatures on the Central Line a couple of weeks ago which were comparable to that of the earth’s core on my arrival for FrightFest’s opening night at least. Not being the warm weather type I decided on a change of tack in the morning and switched to the hitherto unfamiliar Hammersmith & City Line which (being pink) had always appealed anyway and which I’ve never previously had any reason to bother with. And Shepherd’s Bush Market is a lot nicer than Westfield.
Five days, twenty six films on and far too much coffee and junk food later it was all over and back to the real world with no Korean train zombies (seriously, everybody needs to see Train To Busan) and a couple of days rejoining the living in my usual Waterloo stop off after that, home – yay! And on with planning the next lot of charging about – I’m currently feeling particularly jubilant after finally securing a ticket to see my all time favourite band (if I had to pick one) the Pixies, at my all time favourite music venue (if I had to pick one), Brixton Academy in December. And plenty of fun and games before that.
Whilst Manchester’s Grimmfest is not on the itinerary this year thanks in part to my having either seen or deliberately avoided most of the films at FF (but mostly to the total lack of phone-policing; a Diwali theme and cinemagoing don’t mix) I can confirm a mini-trip to Sheffield for the small-but-mighty Celluloid Screams in October; the hotel and travel is booked, the pass bought and the shiny, just-announced programme scrutinised for chunks of free time where a spot of in-room entertaining may take place (in other words, I can get my whore drawers on and rustle up some food and beer money while the stuff I’ve seen already is played). Job done.
The Celluloid Screams programme brings Northern folk an early chance to catch some of the best horror stuff from the London Film Festival and – like my Scottish go-to Dead By Dawn – always inexplicably carries one jaw-droppingly terrible offering to make the remainder shine even brighter; the trick is to spot it in advance which is easier said than done when it’s the Secret Film and not revealed until it starts. Such was the situation surrounding by far the worst film I saw last year, Darling – a pretentious incomprehensible mess that made the previous 2015 front runner Cherry Tree look like The Shining. The politest review-speak description would be ‘polarising’ (a handful of people not on the maker’s A Level Film Studies course rate it as groundbreaking and genre-pushing, everybody else thinks it’s shit). A less polite one would be shit. And anybody who wants to check it out can do so at this years’ Grimmfest.
Thankfully, this years CS schedule looks suitably fab, in the meantime (as a good few have already noticed) I will be back in London for a couple of days next week, and bar that it’s Scarborough for the foreseeable – woohoo! Up to date availability info is always on the front page, for those who keep missing it – further ahead is overleaf. The kids are back at school, the traffic’s normal again and we have our beach back for a few months…
This week’s song of the week may be predictable but my record collection would be a pretty sorry sight without Prince Buster, who passed away last week at 78. May he rest in peace, and always enjoy himself.