Casual Cogitations

Little by little, title by title, innocence and joy is being drained out of the movies. What do you think of when you hear the name of Robin Hood? I think of Sean Connery and the Walt Disney character. I see Robin lurking in Sherwood Forest, in love with Maid Marian, and roistering with Friar Tuck and the Merry Men. I see a dashing swashbuckler.

That Robin Hood is nowhere to be found in Ridley Scott's Robin Hood, starring Russel Crowe, as a warrior just back from fighting in the Third Crusade. Now Richard is dead, and Robin is essentially an unemployed mercenary. This story is a prequel. It takes place entirely before Robin got to be a folk hero. The idea of taking from the rich and giving to the poor was still in storyboard form. Grieving Richard the Lionhearted and now facing the tyrant King John, Robin leads an uprising.

This war broadens until, in the words of the movie's synopsis, “it will forever alter the balance of world power.” That's not all; “Robin will become an eternal symbol of freedom for his people.” Not bad for a man who, by general agreement, did not exist. Although various obscure bandits and ne'er-do-wells inspired ancient ballads about such a figure, our image of him is largely a fiction from the 19th century.

But so what? In for a penny, in for a pound. After the death of Richard, Robin Hood raises, arms and fields an army to repel a French army as it lands on an English beach in wooden craft that look uncannily like World War II troop carriers at Normandy. His men, wielding broadswords, backed by archers, protected from enemy arrows by their shields, engage the enemy in a last act devoted almost entirely to nonstop CGI and stunt carnage in which warriors clash in confused alarms and excursions, and Russel Crowe frequently appears in the foreground to whack somebody.

Subsequently, apparently, Robin pensioned his militia and retired to Sherwood Forest to play tag with Friar Tuck. That's my best guess; at the end the film informs us, “and so the legend begins,” leaving us with the impression we walked in early.

Ah, you say, but what of Maid Marion? In this telling, Marion is not a maid but a widow, and not a merry one. At one point she threatens to unman Robin with her dagger, which is unlike the Maid Marions I've known and loved. Blanchett plays the role with great class and breeding, which is all wrong, I think. She's the kind of woman who would always be asking Robin, “Why do you let that smelly so-called friar hang around you like a fanboy?”

Robin Hood is a high-tech and well made violent action picture using the name of Robin Hood for no better reason than that it's an established brand not protected by copyright. I cannot discover any sincere interest on the part of Scott or Crowe in any previous version of Robin Hood. Their Robin is another weary retread of the muscular macho slaughterers who with interchangeable names stand at the center of one overwrought bloodbath after another.

Have we grown weary of the delightful aspects of the Robin Hood legend? Is witty dialogue no longer permitted? Are Robin and Marion no longer allowed to engage in a spirited flirtation? Must their relationship seem like high-level sexual negotiations? How many people need to be covered in boiling oil for Robin Hood's story to be told these days? How many parents will be misled by the film's PG-13 rating? Must children go directly from animated dragons to skewering and decapitation, with no interval of cheerful storytelling?

The photography is, however, remarkable, and Crowe and the others are filled with fierce energy. Ridley Scott is a fine director for work like this, although in another world, Hollywood would let him make smarter films. God, he must be tired of enormous battle scenes.

I’m going to make no bones about this, I love Hedley, always have, so this review will be more than extremely biased in many people’s eyes. So obviously when I heard that the four piece were going to make a new album, I was over the moon. The finished product however is not what many fans expected.

The album kicks off with the dance-pop tune and first single “Cha-Ching”, a song far different from the sound and feeling of much of the Hedley back catalog, whilst lyrically, the band takes a jab at fame grabbing celebrities. Whilst it’s a far cry from the power balladry and heart wrenching topics of previous works, it’s an extremely catchy song that will have you singing along all day. A similar vibe is continued with the next track “Don’t Talk To Strangers”, where the use of auto-tune, while not really overused, feels entirely unnecessary when Hoggard’s vocals are extremely capable of delivering.

The album swiftly moves along with “Scream”, which moves further away from the dance side of things but is still laced with electronica and voice altering. The chorus is by far the highlight in the track. The tempo is shifted down for the start of the next track in “Hands Up”, which starts with superb vocal delivery and country style acoustic guitar, which eventually builds up to an anthemic and uplifting chorus.

After a very materialistic and inauspicious start lyrically to the album, Hedley get back to what they do best which is writing songs from the heart. “Amazing” starts with a soft piano reminiscent of “For the Nights I Can’t Remember” and hits just as hard. “Shelter” and ‘Young & Stupid’ show off Hoggard’s vocal talents and one of the highlights of the album.

“Perfect” shows a different side to Hoggard’s vocal delivery, using an unusually higher tone for the heart wrenching chorus, but yet again, is delivered extremely well. Claiming “I’m not perfect, but i keep trying, cause that’s what I said I would do from the start, I’m not alive if im lonely.” “The Sweater Song” is a very stripped-down acoustic song of conversations of two young lovers. “9 Shades of Red” switched the topic to completely about partying and the closer “Friends” is a perfect closer about graduation and wins and losses of high school friends.

Musically this album is is not very technical, as the guitars and bass are very simple, yet still delivered extremely well, as usual. Lyrically this album is extremely up and down. Amid the usual heartbreaks and sadness, it also shows plenty more materialistic lyricism. In the end, Hedley have created a solid record, one that fans will not necessarily like due to the departure and progression of the band. But for me this is still another solid Hedley record.

Whoever said that genuinely humorous sitcoms are becoming an endangered species in the 21st generation has obviously been too busy scrutinizing awful comedies like How I Met Your Mother or Big Bang Theory of its undeserved popularity, miserably unaware of the existence of 30 rock, Modern Family or in this case, Community.

Community is a promising comedy about a shallow man trying to make his life right, one bad deed at a time. It is odd how losers make winning comedy. You couldn’t ask for more agreeably amusing company than this oddball group of misfits and miscreants, led by the likably snarky Joel McHale. Community is a barbed but ultimately endearing ensemble sitcom that follows the fall (and possible rise) of Jeff Winger, a cocky jerk of a disgraced lawyer who enrolls in a hard-luck community college, assuming he can just coast through and regain his credentials the easy way. “That cannot be an inspiring journey,” says his professor pal, from whom Jeff hopes to cadge all the answers. Circumstance, and a crush on fellow Spanish student Britta, who isn’t buying his smarmy act, lead Jeff to form a wacky study group that includes Chevy Chase (wonderfully droll) as a needy senior who made a fortune from moist towelettes, and the hilarious Danny Pudi as the awkward chatterbox Abed, who sees everything in terms of movie/TV archetypes. (Next episode, when Britta starts going on about the plight of murdered journalists in Guatemala, Abed blurts, “Spoilers!”) Silly, sweet and frequently hysterical in its fractious group dynamic, Community has the instant feel of a classic-in-the-making sitcom with a refreshingly diverse range of characters to play with.

One of the pleasing things about Community has to do with what it is not. The show doesn’t fit into any of the more familiar half-hour comedy formats on network TV right now - family sitcoms, workplace-family sitcoms, or friends-in-the-city sitcoms. It isn’t entirely formulaic. What else isn’t it? Another reason to moan about sitcoms fading quality.