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Day: 15 February 2018

Live Review: Nightmares on Wax

Written by Yasmin Duggal on . Posted in Music.

George Evelyn returned to Manchester last Wednesday, armed with a brand spanking new album, a wealth of experience and a chilled agenda. After celebrating 25 years in the industry, it’s clear Evelyn — a.k.a. Nightmares On Wax — knew how to take the space for his own, and transform it into not only an event, but an experience.

Sat on sofas for the majority of the set, Evelyn and his ensemble were surrounded by burning incense sticks throughout, creating a cosy, intimate feel to the well-anticipated show. It only emphasised George’s humility and genuine passion for making electronic music. Having recently spoken to The Mancunion about the ever-present existence and strength of the underground scene, the living room set up tinged the set with organic roots.

Standout tracks included ‘Tell My Vision’, ‘Shape The Future’ and ‘You Wish’ which demonstrated his longevity and excited the crowd with freshness and an undercurrent of electricity. In our recent interview, Evelyn commented that it was great to see so many of the new generation fans at his gigs; this show did not disappoint.

Evelyn himself showed off a range of skills; the understated atmosphere was no sign of any subtly regarding the sound. He maintained dynamism by taking the limelight to sing, whilst taking a step back to use the mixer at appropriate intervals.

It was clear influences came from old school soul tones, as the smooth and polished beats leaked from the intimacy and privacy of the living room to the keen ears of fans. Despite the effortlessness of Evelyn’s performance and the relaxed atmosphere which permeated the whole affair, there was still a remarkable amount of tangible energy oozing from each member of the band.

Nightmares On Wax is still producing those unmistakable sounds and apparently now attracting an eager young crowd; there seems to be an ultra-modern trend of tracing Northern underground electronic music back to its foundations. The night in Gorilla was easy and well-received, less of a nightmare and more of an incense-infused dream.

8/10

Wednesday 7th February, Gorilla

Photo: Wikipedia

The 100th anniversary of womens’ suffrage with Baroness Hale

Written by Eva Munoz Picazo on . Posted in Features.

On the 8th of February, the accomplished Baroness Hale of Richmond, President of the Supreme Court, returned to the university that she taught at from 1966 to 1984 to deliver a compelling talk on the achievements of women in the past a hundred years.

Baroness Hale has been a “woman of many firsts”; first woman President of the Supreme Court, first woman Lord of Appeal in Ordinary, first woman to be appointed to the Law Commission, and the first person to make High Court judge as an academic and public servant rather than a practising barrister. On this occasion, she was commemorating 2018 marking the centenary of some women’s right to vote and the right of women to stand in Parliament, as well as the 90th anniversary since all women gained the right to vote.

Baroness Hale told the story of three women that inspired her: Christabel Pankhurst, Margaret Haigh Thomas and Baroness Hale’s own mother. Christabel Pankhurst, honoured in these series of talks, was one of the driving forces of the Suffragette movement, who alongside her mother founded the Women’s Social and Political Union.

Margaret Haigh Thomas, Lady Rhondda, was a leading equalitarian feminist in her day who founded a pressure group called the Six Point Group, a feminist journal, and who went on hunger strike after being imprisoned for committing arson during her work as a militant suffragette. She also fought to obtain her wrongly denied place in the House of Lords appointed to her by her father. Moreover, Baroness Hale’s mother was part of the first generation of women who obtained the right to vote and whose hard work exemplified a generation of women who were moving away from the “expectation of dependence to beginning of independence”.

Baroness Hale then spoke on modern day sexism and the difficulty that women in the work force find between the need for positive discrimination, which attempts to decrease institutional sexism, and our desire to be “appointed on merit not a statistic”.

The talk was incredibly poignant and inspiring, and Baroness Hale is a role model to women whose job as President of the Supreme Court hopefully showcases the beginning of an end to institutional sexism. After this excellent talk, what has become clear is that women still have a long way to go until we reach a much desired equality. Even though the last a hundred years have made a significant change, women still face discrimination in every aspect of their daily lives. As Baroness Hale said: “the women suffrage movement knew we needed equality and we should share that conviction”.

Photo: Album Artwork

Album review: Rae Morris – Someone Out There

Written by Jodie Bryant on . Posted in Music.

It’s been three years since Rae Morris’ debut album, Unguarded. The highly anticipated Someone Out There dropped Friday 2nd February.

Rae Morris is one of those names you will have definitely heard but this album brings her to the forefront. If we look at the record as a whole, you can tell it’s a record that’s been worked on hard and not one song is a throwaway.

Rae describes the album as a ‘step away from the piano’ – a key element of her earlier work. This new style comes across through the variety of songs on the album and we’re left with the electropop magic that is Someone Out There.

The album kicks off with ‘Push Me to My Limit,’ a song which came late in the process of recording the album. String players and all, the song sets the tone of the beautiful album and is atmospheric in setting the scene. Leaving us with a sense of anticipation, the album moves into the energetic, ‘Reborn.’

What stood out particularly throughout Someone Out There was the majesty of a lot of the tracks. Following in the footsteps of the first track are ‘Wait for the Rain’ and ‘Do It’. These perfectly frame the album and, on the whole, the execution of the entire record is very impressive.

The track closest to Rae’s heart is ‘Rose Garden,’ which has a  prominent and meaningful message. The song’s frustration is conveyed in its message of being incapable of helping someone in need, making it a powerful addition to the track list. When aligned with adventurous upbeat songs like ‘Dip My Toe,’ the variety of the tracks and tempo bring the album together.

‘Someone Out There’, the title track, is a stand alone tune. The piano accompanies Rae’s lovely voice to start the track, acting as a bridge between her old and new work. The sense of “out there” is to address the fans. Rae wanted to widen the perceptive of listeners and create outward facing music. This song sets the tone for the relativity of all the tracks on the album.

The record ends with the larger than life, ‘Dancing with Character,’ the song that culminates the album. You can imagine this sounding and looking great live. Rae has said she is looking forward to performing this and incorporating dance moves, already envisioning the album coming to life.

Rae’s tour is hitting Manchester soon! Grab tickets here

If you want to have a listen (you do), click here

7/10

Photo: Allocine.fr

Review: Coco

Written by Lucas Hill-Paul on . Posted in Film.

Disney Pixar’s Coco has arrived in the wake of an uneasy promise from the revolutionary studio, one that threatens an increase in sequels to their pre-existing brands. Though Toy Story 3, for many, was the crowning glory of the franchise, entries like Monsters University, Finding Dory and, especially, Cars 3, failed to capture the magic of their originals, and attempts at new properties, Brave and The Little Dinosaur, missed the mark.

Despite initially feeling sadly more reminiscent of a traditionally Disney fairy tale narrative, Coco joins the ranks of Toy Story 3 and Inside Out as one of Pixar’s more inventive projects, an animated feature that treats its Mexican culture with the same reverence as childhood memories, super-powered role models and environmental anxieties.

Famously pitching the concepts for the first few of their films during one particularly inspiring lunch hour, the post-noughties Pixar team is now planning a sequel to an existing film every other year, and often seem to be lacking creative passion when it comes to their original projects.

New life was breathed by their decision to turn away from their focus to bring imaginary or voiceless realms (bugs, toys, robots, superheroes) to life and towards abstract concepts (emotions) and with Coco, the ingeniously simple idea – straight from Renaissance era Disney – to focus on a culture and its people, music, traditions and aesthetic has culminated in one of the studio’s most sensitive and visually exciting films to date.

At the start of the film we meet Miguel, an aspiring musician who comes from a family with a long held tradition of hating music. Desperate to compete in their town’s talent show, he steals the guitar of his idol, Ernesto de la Cruz which, when played, thrusts him into a heart-warming adventure in the land of the dead. Though some elements of the spirit realm are modernised for humour – most notably its entrance protocols resembling the gates of an airport – the majority of its design draws directly from tradition.

The bejewelled high rises, cobbled streets and sprawling city centres resemble the ofrendas seen at the beginning of the film, stacked high with colour, candles and patterns. Alebrijes prowl the streets and roam the skies, no effort made to tone down how eccentric the spirit animals are coloured and patterned, and the film is all the more visually arresting for it. The presence of Pepita, a gorgeous, green and blue flying tiger should look ridiculous, but the world and culture of the film are so well presented that nothing feels out of place, and he is even a remarkably convincing threat to Miguel when he needs to be.

Vital for any film associated with Mexican culture, this is one of Pixar’s most musical entries, with a consistency of songs that comes close to the traditional Disney pictures. Though most of the film is in English, Coco takes care in ensuring the Spanish language is incorporated, with lyrics flowing naturally between languages in some songs, while others are entirely in one language. When the film is celebrating its heritage, or evoking an emotion, its songwriters utilise as much Spanish as possible, but the English song, “Remember Me” becomes the star by the third act. Evoking surprisingly adult themes of memory, illness and death, the simple guitar tune quickly becomes a sensitive and subtle ballad that is guaranteed to pull heartstrings.

Far from just a visual and lyrical showcase, Coco also contains some of Pixar’s best action since The Incredibles proved that animation could pull off effective set pieces, creatively incorporating music and dance for some breath-taking scenes of character drama and tension. The studio return to the PG rating often missed by animated films, that not only allows for its skeletal character designs and one of the nastiest animated villains for some time, but also a concern with Mexican attitudes towards death that are deftly explored and, alongside Inside Out, make the film essential viewing for any child about to be introduced to concepts that may, at first, seem frightening.

Boasting the first all-Latino cast for a film with a budget in the hundred millions, Coco is a thrilling and touching success that proves cinematic diversity is at its best when treating ethnicities with respect and celebrating cultures, rather than just surrounding a white male lead with supporting minorities.

 

4.5/5

Photo: Allocine.fr

Review: Loveless

Written by James Gill on . Posted in Film.

On the surface, Andrey Zvyagintsev’s Loveless depicts the heart wrenching disappearance of a divorcing couple’s son and their subsequent, fruitless search. As the film delves deeper however it reveals a much broader social commentary, about how the ever-increasing desire for social status and instant gratification paralyses the population and restricts them from ever achieving long term happiness.

When 12 year old Alexey finishes school he doesn’t run off with the other children, nor does he go straight home, instead he goes to the park and wanders around aimlessly. He is an only, lonely child, whose parents Zhenya and Boris venomously row seemingly every time they are confined to the same room.

To escape the bleak and harsh environment of his family he must roam the bleak and harsh Moscow parks and abandoned buildings. One night, when his parents think he is asleep they have a particularly vitriolic dispute, with both sides voicing their utter contempt for each other, yet both in agreement that their son Alexey is holding them back from moving on fully.

Zhenya storms off to use the bathroom but as she leaves the camera lingers. The door swings open, and we track to the left with it to reveal Alexey, who horrifically heard ever word. His facial expression remains in the viewer’s mind throughout the rest of the film.

Not long after, we see Alexey leave the house, run down the apartment buildings steps and into the park. His parents, so caught up in trying to live new lives with their lovers, being as presumptuous as to believe the other will take care of their child, don’t notice his disappearance for two days. Even then Boris treats it as a nuisance; he has no time to care about this, his mind busy elsewhere.

For instance, how can he divorce Zhenya and remarry his impregnated lover quickly enough that his incredibly conservative boss doesn’t notice anything is awry, for being a decent family man is one of the qualifications needed for his company. Zhenya on the other hand is too busy pampering herself to please her new, older, richer lover. Both spend the night having passionate sex, ignorant to the fact that their son is gone.

Cinematographer Mikhail Krichman, who has worked on all Zvyagintsev’s films, uses a wide lens to juxtapose the worn Russian landscape with the emotionless faces of the characters. There is a deep coldness to this style. The characters, although right in front of your eyes, feel miles away.

The impact of this is emphasised by the lack of colour throughout the film, the Moscow landscapes are washed out, any positive emotions long gone. Primary colours exists in just two forms in Loveless; the social media of the Muscovites’ smartphones and the red jackets of the volunteer search and rescue team as they comb the park in a line, looking for a body.

Later in the film Zhenya and Boris, who eventually drop everything to try and find Alexey, get a call. A body of a young boy has been found matching their son, and they are to discern whether it is him. This scene is as devastating as the bathroom scene. When the body bag is unzipped Zhenya screams and Boris collapses in tears, the boy is not theirs, but the fact that it could have been is too much to handle. For just a moment there is genuine love between them.

Throughout the search for Alexey the camera moves away from the face of the characters, to peer out of a frosted window as the scene unfolds, reminiscent of Taxi Driver when Robert de Niro’s character makes a difficult phone call and the camera tracks to look down the corridor instead.

In both cases the movement functions as an escape from the anguish present in the original frame. Zhenya and Boris put up barriers to protect them from their loss and suffering in an attempt to find new happiness with their lovers, but like the buildings in Moscow those walls decay and fall down. They can jump from lover to lover but they will never escape the past, their pain will always catch them.