February 2009 Archives

CAN it really be half a century since the music died?
It seems incomprehensible that Buddy Holly, the pioneer of rock and roll and icon to so many - not least the Beatles, enjoyed a mere 18 months of success before he took that fateful flight to music heaven.
But here we are, 50 years after his death in a plane crash, still singing along to the catalogue of hits which influenced a generation.
Charles Hardin Holley was one of the first to write and perform his own songs, and most musicians would be proud to pen just a fraction of his prolific output.
The writers of Buddy know the songs (and perhaps those Two Ronnies specs) are the real stars.
The plotline, which feels rather hurried even in two-and-a-half hours, covers the last three years of his life from Buddy and the Crickets' first steps to stardom in their native Lubbock, Texas, to the last, freezing, full-on concert at the Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa.
All interspersed of course, with those songs - Not Fade Away, Words of Love, Maybe Baby and the now deeply ironic That'll Be The Day.
Glen Joseph, sharing the Buddy mantle on this tour with Oliver Seymour Marsh, presents the singer-songwriter as alternately a street-fighting man whose rock 'n' roll attitude busts out of his country and western straightjacket - a rebel with a chord if you like, and a goofy Texan version of Frank Spencer.
But as the lyrics of Johnny B Goode say, that little country boy sure can play.
And while all eyes are on the black-framed glasses, there's entertaining support to be had from Christopher Redmond and Dan Graham as the Crickets and some authentic 50s harmonies from a trio of lady vocalists.
A slew of stand out songs, including Peggy Sue and a frenetic Oh Boy! bring the first half to a rousing close, but the action threatens to get bogged down in home and hearth after the interval and it takes the Surf Ballroom "compère" to get things moving again.
Then it's a madcap musical gallop towards Holly's date with destiny, with Colin McGregor's Big Bopper and Pedro Reichert's tush-shaking Ritchie Valens joining Joseph and the gang to crank up the volume to somewhere near 11.
It's all good energetic fun which ultimately sets the theatre smouldering if not actually on fire.
7/10: Rave On

Most of us went to bed last night wondering whether Winslet would win and Slumdog would be top dog.
So it was satisfying to wake up this morning and discover that, despite the "sliming" which had apparently been going on to try and scupper Slumdog's chances of Oscar night glory, Danny Boyle and the gang had triumphed.
We can all share in Boyle's joy - even though he comes from down the M62!!
Only kidding. That Liverpool v Manchester rivalry is now rather outdated.
There had been a lot of sniping about the film in LA in recent weeks with comments about it revelling in 'poverty porn' and leaving its young stars in the slums where it found them.
Fears the briefing against the movie could dent its chances were unfounded as Slumdog all but swept the board.
I was also very pleased for Sean Penn who won best actor for his bravura performance as real-life gay Frisco politician Harvey Milk in the eponymously named Milk.
Anyone who hasn't had a chance to see the film should try and get along to the cinema - it was bright, tight (unlike Benjamin Button) and I felt disappointed it had come to an end.
Kate Winslet won her gong for Holocaust movie The Reader and those words she uttered on TV in Extras three or four years ago, "if you do a film about the Holocaust, you're guaranteed an Oscar" now seem strangely prescient.
Maybe Ricky Gervais should have written her acceptance speech too.....

I may have come to this argument only lately, but boy I can still be angry about it!
I'm talking about the city council's money-making decision - and it is purely a money-making initiative - to extend parking charges to 8pm in the city centre.
Businesses are quite rightly saying that they will lose out at a time when they can ill afford it.
Hell, it's a time when few of us can afford it!
But on top of the shops and bars, what about those of us who boost the night-time economy by visiting the theatres, concert halls and galleries of this city - often stopping for a drink or a bite to eat on the way?
Most normal performances start at 7.30 at night, meaning we'll have to fork out for at least an hour's parking where we never did before..........
It's hardly the legacy of Capital of Culture, which after all was about getting more people to come out and experience the city's arts scene, that I suspect Phil Redmond et al were envisaging.
Some of us, it's true, could opt to swap the car for public transport (if we want to be left standing in the cold at a bus stop at 10.30 at night with the drunks).
But unless you live on the 86 bus route - the envy of all of us who are supposed to live off main arteries but get a very hit-and-miss service after sundown - it could be a long wait.
And in the end, it's probably still cheaper to fork out for a parking ticket - which means that, like so much in this country these days, despite being angry we'll end up accepting this new imposition.