And we are now bang up to date with Mud, the latest offering from Jeff Nicols, writer and director of Take Shelter which was bloody marvelous.
Mud is a coming of age drama set in Arkansas, largely on the tributaries of the Mississippi River. Two teenage boys, Ellis and Neckbone (played brilliantly by Tye Sheridan and Jacob Lofland respectively) take a boat out to an island because they’ve heard there’s a boat stuck up in trees, and want to claim it for their own.
Unfortunately, they realise that someone is living in said boat, the mysterious Mud (Matthew McConaughey) and he’s waiting on his girlfriend Juniper (Reese Wetherspoon), having done something bad in the not too distant past, meaning that he’s very much a wanted man. The two boys bond and look up to Mud, despite the fact they’ re never too sure if he’s telling the truth, but they promise to help him get the boat down from the trees, so he can reunite with his one true love.
Now, I enjoyed Mud immensely. It looks absolutely beautiful, and it’s a wonderfully atmospheric film (no, I don’t know what I mean either). At the centre you have these different relationships. You have Ellis’ parents breaking up, leading to their houseboat being sold off to the County, Neckbone having no parents and living with his uncle (Michael Shannon, always brilliant, just a shame this is a small role). Further, Ellis has started seeing this older girl and is confused about their status, you got Mud and Juniper and their complicated story, and finally the curious nature of the relationship between Mud and Ellis’ neighbour Tom (Sam Shepard); are they father and son as Neckbone speculates?
It’s very much a film about boys becoming men, and rites of passage, which may be unappealing to some. Some “nasty” things are said about women, but not as nasty as in Killing Me Softly for example, which I think if I recall portrays women only as prostitutes, whilst the low life male characters speak unpleasantly about them. I don’t believe Mud is in that same category.
Overall, I found it a very enjoyable experience with a terrific cast, and a wonderful, heartwarming friendship between Ellis and Neckbone. McConaughey, meanwhile continues to impress after Killer Joe, Magic Mike and The Paperboy.
Continuing the catch up from the other week, The Look of Love is a biopic of Paul Raymond, notorious Soho club owner, property developer and publisher of such notable titles as ‘Escort’, ‘Men Only’ and ‘Mayfair’.
The film reunites director Michael Winterbottom with Steve Coogan as Raymond and looks back on the trials and tribulations of Raymond from the late 1950s to the early 1990s, when he’s become Britain’s Richest Man, but at a severe personal cost.
Coogan appears to be an inspired choice to portray Raymond, although I have one or two reservations. Chiefly, the problem that Steve Coogan has had for many years now, is that he’s Alan Partridge, and any witty asides (there are plenty here) immediately make you think of the character he’s most famous for portraying. There’s a funny recurring joke about being good friends with the Beatles (except Yoko), and that Ringo helped design his flat.
The real stars of the film are Imogen Poots as Paul’s daughter Debbie, and Chris Addison as Tony Power, Raymond’s right hand man in the publishing world. I was pleasantly surprised by the latter’s performance, whilst Poots is certainly one with a great future in front of her (and already has an impressive filmography).
It’s a very shallow, bawdy film, which like 24 Hour Party People is more comedy than drama. Despite the seriousness of subject matter, censorship, sexual politics etc, these are rarely given a moment of reflection, and if they are it is only for Raymond to be dismissive about them. It’s also a very sympathetic portrayal of Raymond, despite the fact he abandoned one child from an early relationship AND his son from his marriage to Jean Raymond (fine portrayal by Anna Friel). Despite the positives, the many fine portrayals and the humour, I came away feeling that there was something missing at the heart of the film. What we have is a decent, sympathetic portrayal of a man in charge of a not totally pleasant business empire. I think I would have liked to have seen more unpleasantness.
After a couple of weeks of watching sod all at the flicks, I managed to catch four films in the last seven days, including two of the first summer blockbusters, which i’m coupling together here.
Star Trek Into Darkness follows the Enterprise before their five year mission and starts in true Indiana Jones/James Bond style with the crew completing a perilous mission. I read that Chris Pine based his interpretation of Kirk on the aforementioned Dr. Jones, and right at the beginning here, we see Kirk and Bones running away from a posse of natives, whom they’ve just managed to upset. At the same time, on the same planet, Spock’s life is in danger, and in order to save his First Officer, Kirk must violate the ‘Prime Directive’, and interfere directly with the development of the indigenous race. As a consequence, with Spock dropping Kirk right in it, the latter is demoted to First Officer, whilst Spock is transferred to another ship. It’s a promising start, which harnesses the wonderful chemistry between Pine and Quinto as Kirk and Spock respectively. The dialogue between these two (later three, as Uhuru despairs of Spock and shares her thoughts with Kirk) is terrific to watch.
One must however give these characters something to do between their tense, witty discussions, and as it happens former Starfleet member John Harrison (Benedict Cumberbatch) is right on cue, destroying secret Starfleet installations in London, before hot-footing it over to California and attacking the High Command. What a rotter. Fortunately, Admiral Marcus instructs Kirk, reunited with Spock and command of the Enterprise to hunt Harrison down, and the gang are off again on their big adventure.
The whole film feels terribly fast paced, though it probably overstays its welcome by a half hour or so. Certainly Abrams knows how to occupy the viewer, to keep them from thinking too hard about the plot and stopping them from thinking ‘Ere, wait a moment’. I found it very amusing at times, although I really could have done without the gratuitous underwear shot of Alice Eve. Was it product placement for Bravissimo? I doubt the actor insisted on it. More likely is that after channeling Spielberg and Lucas, Abrams started aping Michael fucking Bay. “Ere, 12 year olds, get a look at that! Phwoar, eh?!”
Overall, it’s a very slick film, complimented by a fine cast and some very good writing. It’s not utterly brilliant, and one wonders how long this part of the Star Trek franchise is going to go on for.
Onto Iron Man Three then. Hmm. I probably care less about this franchise than I do about Star Trek. You have Robert Downey Jr. being brilliant as Tony Stark (again), having anxiety attacks over ‘that thing in New York’ (see Avengers Assemble). You got Guy Pearce being bad ass again (he seems to be the bad guy in a lot of things I see now), playing a man shunned in the past by Stark but now hellbent on revenge, and you have a quite bizarre turn by Sir Ben Kingsley which made me want to laugh and cry. Actually, in truth it wanted me to watch the ‘Luxury Lounge’ episode of The Sopranos.
Downey Jr. apart, I didn’t care much it. It’s mildly entertaining and there’s a nice line about Croydon, but come the final showdown it descends into robots bashing each other, until our hero wins the day. It was good to see Gwyneth Paltrow and Rebecca Hall have strong roles, and neither of them had a gratuitous five second underwear shot.
Derek Cianfrance’s A Place Beyond the Pines is a slow-burning, ambitious epic of Shakespearean proportions, split into 3 intertwining acts.
The first of these acts sees us introduced to Luke (Ryan Gosling) a chain-smoking, heavily tattooed stunt biker with a travelling fair, who, having returned to a town he visited with the fair the previous year, is re-introduced to a former lover, Romina (Eva Mendes). It transpires that since they last met, Romina has given birth to Luke’s baby boy, and is now in a loving relationship with another man.
Luke becomes driven to provide for his child, quitting his job as a stunt biker, and falls in with a local mechanic, Robin (played wonderfully by Ben Mendelsohn), who offers him work as his assistant. Robin, it is disclosed used to rob banks a few years ago, and is aware that if Luke wants to provide for his son and Romina, he needs a lot more cash. Working as a pair, with Luke using his impressive motorcycling skills and Robin as getaway driver, they rob a few local banks, whilst at the same time, Luke remains close to Romina and gets to know his son better.
Romina’s partner Kofi, remains wary of Luke’s presence, particularly as he has the habit of showing up at their house unannounced, with goods purchased with stolen money. After an altercation, leaving Kofi hospitalised, Luke is arrested and later bailed by Robin, the latter quitting from robbing banks as he sees Luke as hot tempered and too much of a risk. Unperturbed, Luke continues solo.
To say anymore would give away too much, and it’s probably best not to say anything of the final act either. The second act focuses on local cop, Avery Cross, played by Bradley Cooper. An educated, firmly middle class man in contrast to Luke’s drifter-type. Cross has political connections through his dad, who’s a former judge, and this part of the film focuses on his rise from a policeman on the beat to career politician, via a Serpico like sub-plot, featuring Ray Liotta. Basically, anytime these days you see Ray Liotta in a film, you know something wrong and bad is going to go down, and that Ray’s up to no good. See Killing Them Softly for example, which incidentally also features Ben Mendelsohn as a low life degenerate.
All i’ll say about the final third of the film, is that it’s set 15 years after the events of the first two acts, and features Dane DeHaan, who was particularly excellent in Chronicle, and whom I would cast as a young Mark E Smith, if ever there was a Fall biopicon the cards.
All in all, it’s an immensely far-reaching film, which if you read literally, is too easy to dismiss and pour scorn on, particularly given the final act. Thematically, it’s bears comparison to The Godfather, in terms of paternal responsibilities, redemption and revenge. It’s 141 minutes long and seems even longer, and I think the final act falls a little short in quality in comparision to the first two. That said, the performances throughout are terrific. Gosling, Cooper and Eva Mendes are all superb as the leading actors, and they are given terrific support by the aforementioned DeHaan, Mendelsohn, Liotta, and also Bruce Greenwood.
What with Gosling playing a biker, the motorcycle shots are exhilarating, particularly in the robbery scenes, and upstate New York looks incredibly beautiful.
I should have seen From the Sea to the Land Beyond last year at the BFI, with British Sea Power accompaniment, but despite buying my ticket, I rather stupidly chose to watch England vs Sweden on the TV instead. Fortunately, as part of Sundance this year, the band were once again playing live to the film, this time at the Indigo. The documentary film is directed by Penny Woolcock, showing a portrait of the British coastline during the 20th century, using archive video clips. It has been shown on TV, and is now available on DVD.
Musically, BSP perform slower, re-arranged (largely instrumental) versions of their back catalogue (“All in It”, excerpt from “Carrion”, “The Land Beyond” etc) and incidental music. It’s a captivating film, genuinely moving (particularly during the clips documenting the two World Wars), and often amusing. It covers Britain’s industrial strength and decline, the great ships that were built, followed by the empty dockyards, as well as natural history, a section devoted to the R.N.L.I and the discovery of oil in the North Sea. Well worth purchasing the DVD, as the archive film footage is extraordinary. Be amazed at seeing a woman abseil down a cliff face in order to poach eggs from nests, upper class silliness on the beach pre-1914 and working class drunkenness in Blackpool in the late 90s. Wonderful stuff.
Christ. Well, where does one start? I first heard of Spring Breakers when a friend of mine mentioned that she was thinking of seeing it, and I was completely unaware of it. How I wish that were still true. Next, i’d seen one or two promo shots of a gangsta lookin’ James Franco surrounded by ‘babes’ in bikinis. I then learnt that one of the young women was Selena Gomez, whom i’ve only heard of through clicking Twitter trends and seeing her briefly in The Muppets.
I then saw my aforementioned friend’s Facebook update, stating that Spring Breakers was the “worst film i’ve ever seen”. Cor, that’s pretty good going. I had heard Mark Kermode review it on Five Live on Friday and he was pretty ambivalent to it, and I had read mixed reviews from Twitter followers. I was positive that it couldn’t be the worst film ever, and thought i’d take it in after seeing Trance.
I learnt that the director, Harmony Kone was the writer of that controversial cack, Kids, so perhaps I shouldn’t have bothered seeing it. I haven’t watched any of his previous films, so I can’t pass judgement on those, although reviews I read weren’t particularly glowing.
Anyway, Spring Breakers is one of the most nauseating, boring, pieces of drivel i’ve ever seen and i’ve seen Archipelago. Clearly, “spring break” is something we in the UK aren’t familiar with, but you soon get the gist from the umpteen repetitive, slo-motion scenes of young women baring their breasts, shaking their backsides, whilst young men leer/pour booze over them. Clearly, Kone likes to leer, as reinforced by yet more scenes of young women in swimming pools, focusing underwater on their bums and thighs. I don’t know if he was cracking one off every 10 minutes whilst filming this garbage, but it wouldn’t surprise me.
I’d say that half of the film looks like scenes from Girls Gone Wild, the video that Larry and Jeff order in an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm. I’d recommend rather than paying money to watch Spring Breakers you just go to youporn, type in “college girls” and enjoy yourself for 30 minutes.
Let me try and remember if there was a plot. Oh yeah, so these college girls want desperately to go to Florida for spring break (I don’t want to hear that term again, particularly with ‘forever’ attached at the end), but they don’t have enough money. They hatch a plan, very easily in fact, to use one of their teacher’s cars and armed with not very much at all rob a local fast food joint. Job’s a good ‘un, as they say.
After yet more pervy camera work and a whole of flesh, they four gals get busted along with others for drugs, spending a couple of nights in jail in their bikinis (fancy that) before being bailed out by James Franco (looking a mix of Rio Ferdinand and Goldie). For five minutes, with Franco playing a gangster called ‘Alien’, I was captivated. “Hark!” I thought, “the film begins here. Thank you Franco!”. Alas, I was wrong. Instead we are treated to a weak storyline as Alien battles for local pride with a rival gangster, a couple of the girls go home, weeping and we’re treated to a Cribs style tour of erm, well just Alien’s bedroom really, as he shows off all his guns.
There’s a scene with the girls wearing balaclavas, listening to Alien bash out a tender Britney Spears song on his piano, which is probably supposed to mean something deep, but just bores the shit out of you. I’ve heard the four women described as ‘heroines’, which is just bullshit. They are horrible, vapid creatures, and this is a film without any charm, any wit and any positives. Worse, it’s just fucking boring.
Hadn’t seen anything new out at the flicks for good few weeks, so had to rectify that yesterday. I’ve probably missed The Paperboy so will have to wait until the DVD, and to be honest nothing else has really grabbed my attention. In all honesty, I wasn’t too fussed when I saw that Danny Boyle had a new film out.
I loved Shallow Grave and Trainspotting but couldn’t stand Slumdog Millionaire and couldn’t be bothered to bring myself to watching 127 Hours. Sunshine I didn’t like at the time, and haven’t re-watched.
Anyhow, Trance is the latest offering, starring James McAvoy, the ever magnificent Vincent Cassel and Rosario Dawson. McAvoy plays Simon, an auctioneer troubled by past gambling debts, who helps a group of robbers led by Franck (Cassel) steal a priceless Goya. However, Simon has decided to double cross his buddies, and after attacking Franck, he receives a mighty blow to his head that leaves him out cold, and vitally, makes him lose his memory, thus forgetting where he left the painting. After torturing Simon without reward, Franck and his gang have to play nice, and coerce him into taking hypnotherapy sessions from Elizabeth Lamb (Dawson).
Yes, on that thin story, a film is born. But don’t worry, because the action is well paced, particularly the pre-credit sequence with McAvoy talking directly to the camera about work as an auctioneer, and how the heist worked, fuelled by a nice punchy soundtrack by Rick Smith of Underworld.
I’ve read that recent film Welcome to the Punch looks utterly fantastic, with lots of shots of Docklands at night etc, and here too much is made of shooting London by night. It’s visually gripping with lots of mirrors and windows, which reminded me of the best scene in Skyfall when 007 takes out an enemy assassin in Shanghai.
As Simon goes under hypnotherapy, as as the film goes on, it becomes a lot more layered, mixing aspects of Inception and Memento, whilst the relationship and tension between the three leads is reminiscent of Juliet, Alex and David in Shallow Grave (John Hodge wrote that, and I believe polished Trance).
Overall, it’s a celebration of style over substance, with perhaps too many twists and turns. The pounding soundtrack that accompanied the heist scene continues at the same pace long after, and is overbearing as the film descends into psychological thriller. It’s all a bit of a mess.
Alrighty, so this is Steven Soderbergh’s last directorial effort, or so it is believed, and as ever, it’s a very slick, stylish looking affair and a lot more rewarding than Contagion, which is the last of his i’ve seen. There’s been Haywire and Magic Mike in between, what a productive man.
I don’t know whether it’s got anything to do with the recent releases of The Girl and Hitchcock, but there seems to be a few recent films out that have all doffed their caps in the direction of the great director. Last week, I saw Stoker which was seemingly influenced by Shadow of a Doubt and Side Effects too has been compared to, or said to have been influenced by Marnie and Vertigo. Even the opening shot, zooming in slowly to an apartment window seems to have been straight out of Psycho.
Side Effects stars Rooney Mara as Emily, a woman awaiting the release of her husband Martin (Channing Tatum), as he has been jailed for insider trading. Emily appears unwell, and unaccustomed to having her husband back in her life. She tries to kill herself by driving at speed into a car park wall, and as a result of her unsuccessful suicide attempt, she is introduced to hotshot, impudent psychiatrist, Jonathan Banks (Jude Law). The Good Doctor makes Emily visit him regularly, and offers several drugs to her to enable her to carry with her life fairly normally. He speaks with Emily last psychiatrist, played by Catherine Zeta-Jones (complete with lovely thick brimmed glasses), who recommends trying Emily on a new drug called Ablixa. All seems well, but one of the side effects of this new medication is that it causes Emily to sleepwalk occasionally.
I can’t say anything more with regards to a general outline without giving away a massive spoiler. What I will say is, that Soderbergh masters the first act of the film perfectly. One isn’t quite sure what kind of film you’re getting. Is this a psychological drama? Is it like The Insider with respect to large pharmaceutical firms coming under investigation for the medication they provide? Is it a film focusing on depression? There are plenty of little nods in those directions, and it is genuinely gripping and interesting stuff. In the back ground you have Dr. Banks’ personal life and his practice, you have Rooney Mara as Emily, looking both vulnerable and terrifying (AT THE SAME TIME), and Catherine Zeta Jones looking incredibly smug and pleased with herself, possible because her thick-brimmed specs were on offer at Specsavers. Finally, you have Jude Law who is very good as Dr. Banks (I think the last thing I saw him in was Contagion). He doesn’t seem to get a great deal of credit, perhaps it’s the films he chooses to be in, I dunno. But the praise he has received for this is well deserved.
I can’t quite fathom the five star reviews Side Effects has received (Peter Bradshaw strikes again), because the final 30-45 minutes is just ludicrous. In trying to make this engaging film conclude, writer Scott Z. Burns seems to have taken some ‘funny pills’ himself. It’s just ridiculous, kinda trashy and seedy, which seems completely detached from the preceding hour. One expects Graham Chapman to turn up in army uniform, bellowing “Stop that! This is all too silly!”
What a curious oddity this film is. It’s the English language debut for director Park-Chan Wook, responsible for Oldboy and it’s also the screenwriting debut of Wentworth Miller, who may be more familar to some as an actor in Prison Break. It tells the story of India Stoker (Mia Wasikowska) and her mother Evelyn (Nicole Kidman), as they bury India’s father, to whom she was very close to, he having been killed in a car crash on the day of her 18th birthday. At the funeral, India spots a man in the cemetary watching the proceedings and he is later introduced at the wake as her uncle Charlie (Matthew Goode), brother of the deceased (the returning Uncle is a nod to Shadow of a Doubt).
Despite not being seen in years, and having spent a long time abroad, Evelyn welcomes her brother-in-law into the family home without any hesitation. India however, appears a lot more sceptical and standoffish. It becomes evident that Charlie is a bit creepy. He appears awfully nice and well-mannered on the surface, but there’s clearly an edge to him that appears obvious to India, the housekeeper and her Aunt Gwendolyn (Jackie Weaver) who turns up, whilst Evelyn sees nothing but a charming man, doing her best to cosy up to him.
Matthew Goode is magnificent as Charlie. There’s an understated menace he brings to the role. Whilst he looks clean cut, with, to my eyes, a beefier young David Byrne look to him, he nrings an air of mystery and intensity which he seems to have trouble keeping on top of. Wasikowska too, is wonderful as India, who over the course of the 100 minutes or so begins to lose her innocence as she seemingly becomes under the influence of her uncle. It’s an odd film, because at times, the acting appears to be almost hammy, and one wonders whether this is a deliberate device (I think it is). There is plenty to like about the movement of the camera as it swings around the family home, whilst the sound too is magnificent (tied into the fact that India has acute hearing). There’s a whole American Gothic feel to the film, along with plenty of symbolism and allusions to Freud for others to analyse to their heart’s content. I’ve seen a few reviews that have been sceptical of the final third as things start to unravel, but I can’t say I was disappointed by the finale. Goode’s portrayal of Charlie is reminiscent of McConaughey as Killer Joe. Charlie is very cool, calm and calculated and it’s a trait that India manages to inherit by the end of the film. I rather enjoyed it.
I could say more, but I would probably give away some spoilers. I will only add that it was wonderful to see Ralph Brown (forever Danny from Withnail & I) as the local Sheriff.
My parents were visiting me last weekend, so it was the usual mix of high culture and low brow humour. Friday night was spent at the Palladium watching A Chorus Line which was very good. I do prefer the Circle to the Stalls, now having experienced both. Theatre lot even worse than your typical cinema audience when it comes to making noises and talking. If there was one slight criticism, sometimes the orchestra seemed too loud , drowning out the dialogue. Very minor point though.
Saturday morning was spent at Tate Modern seeing the Roy Lichtenstein retrospective. Interesting, particularly his brass art deco influenced sculptures. I agree with a column I read in the Guardian, that the Tate fails to acknowledge those comic artists that Lichtenstein ‘borrowed’ from.
Plan to visit the London Film Museum in Covent Garden was scuppered by the fact that it was closed on Saturday for private event. Had they posted that on their website, I would have been disappointed rather than fucking annoyed. Yes, they tweeted it, but not everyone follows, do they?
So it was that we went to see Arbitrage in the evening. Knowing sod all about Economics, as my A-Level result will testify, I have no idea what arbitrage means. Apparently it ‘is the practice of taking advantage of a price difference between two or more markets striking a combination of matching deals that capitalize upon the imbalance, the profit being the difference between the market prices’. Phew, thanks Wikipedia. Glad that’s sorted.
Richard Gere plays smooth, rich, seemingly loving family man Robert Miller who is about to sell his hedge fund (his what?) for a shedload of money. However, he has problems. One is that his inquisitive daughter (‘acted’ by Brit Marling) works for him and notices discrepancies in the accounts. Two, the buyer is making him wait, and three, Miller has cooked his books, borrowing money off friends to fill the holes. What a complete and utter shit then. Oh, and he’s cheating on his wife (Susan Sarandon, seemingly high in every scene) with a young French artist (Laetitia Casta). What a fucking rotter!
Worse is to follow, as Robert plans to leave with his beautiful French mistress and whilst dozing off at the wheel of her car, manages to have an almighty crash, killing her instantly. At this point, my father began to bellow something rather too loud about the safety record of Mercedes Benz cars, for which I hit him in the thigh. Harsh, yet fair.
Enter Tim Roth looking slimey as ever as some NYPD cop called Bryer (hamming it all the way), and the shit really hits the fan for Miller. Bryer is adamant of Miller’s guilt, Miller’s daughter finds out and confronts her father about the fraud and Miller’s accomplice, who helped him following the car crash is under severe pressure from the cops. Can Miller save himself from the jaws of defeat, and remain the smooth, suave bastard? Possibly.
I will admit that I didn’t think much of the film. It’s not particularly original, I thought Brit Marling was dreadful playing Miller’s daughter and Susan Sarandon terribly underused. It’s a film dominated by Gere, and he is the glue that holds it together. Without his expertise, his way of making the audience still root for him, despite playing an utter bastard, the film is nothing.
Rave reviews, album in just outside the Top 50 and sold out UK dates. It’s been a pretty good 7 days for Caitlin Rose. What better way to celebrate than return to the Brixton Windmill for an intimate, yet scorching gig? Should she return later this year to tour, no doubt she’ll be playing larger venues, so this was a rare treat.
I’ve enjoyed the dynamic of this tour, with Rose’s band acting also as her support. First up is Nashville based singer-songwriter Andrew Combs, whom I saw last week in Leyton playing his first UK gig. I hope he might return to the UK and tour in his own right. His album, ‘Worried Man’ released late last year is fantastic. “I like this place, it reminds me of Nashville”, he states after opener ‘Devil’s Got My Woman’. During the set he’s joined on guitar and pedal steel by Jeremy Fetzer and Spencer Callum Jr. , and later by bass and drums as he steams into the more up-tempo raucous ‘Emily’.
Steelism weld the “intoxicating sounds of pedal steel & guitar” (their E.P title) incorporating their own instrumental compositions with a couple of covers, with the aforementioned Fetzer on guitar and Spencer Callum Jr. on pedal steel. Backed by a rhythm section, they produce a brilliant version of Monty Norman’s ‘James Bond Theme’, and finish their short set with a version of ‘Something’.
By the time Caitlin Rose makes it to the stage at just past 9pm, the Windmill is baking hot, a point not lost on the singer who jokes about wearing her shoulder padded blazer just so she has “something to take off”. As with Wednesday’s gig at Dingwall’s the set obviously focuses on the new material, with ‘No One To Call’, ‘Waitin” and ‘Only A Clown’ sounding fantastic. My only concern when hearing ‘The Stand In’ was how well these new expansive songs were going to transfer to a live show, but I needn’t have worried, the band are truly excellent and Rose’s voice still as powerful as ever when it needs to be. She sings a beautiful a cappella version of ‘You Are My Sunshine’ in tribute to her late grandmother which is enough to make your eyes well up, and follows that with the equally stunning ‘Sinful Wishing Well’.
It wouldn’t be a Caitlin Rose gig without a cover or two, and here we get treated to Roger Miller’s ‘England Swings’ (“we couldn’t play this last night, we were in Scotland”). Andrew Combs is invited front of stage to sing his song ‘Too Stoned to Cry’, and whilst there a few sniggers from the crowd at the title, we’re humorously warned “it’s not a happy song”. The set finishes with a barnstorming rendition of ‘Shanghai Cigarettes’ and again my face is aching from too much smiling. Here’s hoping, what with her playing at End of the Road Festival later this summer that Caitlin and the rest of the gang will be back to play a few more dates before too long. She is an absolute treasure.
