Monday, July 19, 2010

Monday 19 July 2010

Today’s opening is smooth.  I feel I deserve more sleep than I get but despite this I step up, step out.

Impressively I manage to leave the house and get to the station in good time today only sadly to be met with a piss streak train and its uncomfortable seats.  I guess all the good ones are being made up somewhere.

As a result of being on such a budget train the journey turns out to be drab and deflating.  Sat to my left this morning is a real business tourist, a man that watches a video on his phone without headphones (thus annoying with noise) before snoring his way to London.  Somebody punch him in the gob.  Freak.

Of course these things don’t last forever and soon we are pulling/arriving into London, slightly delayed after beaching at Maryland.  The beach at Maryland occurrence these days.  I would like to think that it is down to some kind of real incident in the area but ultimately it is probably just down to the positioning of signals there.  Anything that could/might liven up this journey would be awesome though.

This morning Liverpool Street is rammed.  Where did all these people come from?  Were they shipped in by the rail companies to make the place look more vibrant and busy than is reality?  As these extras of some kind of advertising campaign?  Is a flash mob pop video about to strike at any second?  None of the above.

From here the tube ride is OK.  When I change to the Jubilee Line I spot the French looking lady in glasses on the train.  I haven’t seen her in months but she remains gorgeous and a vision despite having the whitest/palest lips known to man.

Not long after emerging at St Johns Wood on the way to the restaurant I receive a text from The Girl alerting me to a sudden dentist appointment.  Thanks for the notice.

Beyond this the route into work is a quiet one and soon I am sat at my desk doing the banks.

Eventually The Girl trots in just before lunchtime.  And there was her questioning me on Friday as to whether I was a team player.  Her standards are very double.

Slowly things are coming together now.  This morning I experience/endure phonecalls from both bosses who are currently out on holiday.  So if they’re away out of the country who is left in charge?  Me?

From here the day rides out smoothly with a large plate of penne for lunch.

Once out of work I head straight down to the West End towards the Prince Charles Cinema and tonight’s double bill of THE WARRIORS and REPO MAN.  As I change tubes at Bond Street the Central Line is just excruciating full of tourists and full of heat.  Weighing up my options I only last one stop before I decide to hop off at Oxford Circus and cut through Carnaby Street to get to Chinatown.

Tonight is another brilliant summer evening in London.  It is also very busy meaning that out of towners are walking slowly in front of me getting in my way and slowing me down.  In spite of such obstacles I get to the cinema well ahead of time (almost half an hour) and snag a couple of tickets very easily.

Afterwards I head up to Fopp where I look into buying a copy of the first Twilight movie with view to research the shit for tomorrow night.  I can tell already agreeing to go see the turkey is a mistake, I hate vampire movies at the best of times but went they are caked with pretty faces and teenage sex that is making girls go gooey, this is pretty much exactly the opposite of what I stand for.  Alas when I get to Fopp I cannot find the movie and when I even bother to enquire amidst the risk of laughter from the guy behind the counter they do not have a copy anywhere.  I guess there is a lot of babysitting money doing the rounds and being spent on this shit right now.

With no DVD in hand I head back to Chinatown where I pop into the Yang Guang supermarket to pick up some treats.  I wind up buying a weird can of Nescafe which I guess is some kind of third world frappuccino hybrid.  I also buy the pinkest sweets imaginable along with the obligatory summer bottle of water.

From here I return to the Prince Charles and manage to snag a pretty good seat.  Since they’ve done this place over it is now pretty lush.

When THE WARRIORS begins rolling it is clear that it is a very old print by the fact that it has an X certificate.  This is too cool.  Then following this as the movie begins when “THE WARRIORS” title flashes on screen somebody somewhere takes a photo of it using a flash.  This is truly the realm of the knowing.

Unfortunately about 20 minutes in the film print snaps and everything comes to an end.  Strangely though nobody gets pissed off as the whole retro feel of the disaster becomes part of the experience.

As the lights come up a voice from the back offers everyone a full refund if they leave now.  I don’t think there are any takers just a person questioning “what if the film snaps five minutes from the end?  What about then?”

Eventually the film begins rolling again as The Riffs step up their trailing of THE WARRIORS as they tear through The Orphans, The Baseball Furies and The Lizzies.

It soon becomes apparent to me that more than anything this is a movie about riding public transport and the perils that come with.  I cannot help but feel the many obstacles THE WARRIORS are encountering on their journey are similar to the many frustrations that I have felt in the everyday existence of commution.

As the movie steams to a conclusion you begin to wonder why David Patrick Kelly didn’t have more of a career, he was fantastic in this and later Twin Peaks amongst other things.  Maybe The Riffs broke him in real life in addition to in the movie.

At the end there is more applause as we are all forced out of the cinema so that the cleaners can mop us the residue of THE WARRIORS.

 The wait in the bar to re-enter for REPO MAN proves excruciating as I get the fear that I might not be able to snag decent seat.  Eventually we get let back in and when I head back to my previous seat there is now a doppelganger of my former Gringo Records cohort.  I even have to double take.  This is bad.

In the end I take the second best option only to have a fat arse sit to my right and crowd the plate making me the meat in a cunt sandwich.  As the guy and his friend (boyfriend?) eat some kind of Chinese buffet in a tray it smells so good and I hate them so.

REPO MAN thankfully transcends all the bad stuff occurring around me.  Right from the beginning (right from the off) as the Iggy Pop title song kicks in over the opening credits the excitement is palpable/tangible as the music manages to rock me in my seat and get me moving.

In many ways (as I have always said) REPO MAN is the dream ticket for me, it is where hardcore punk meets Sci-Fi.  It is the perfect collision of cultures that fairly represents both and adds a gritty cool (and edgy) element to proceedings in quite a masculine way.  Basically all it needs are wrestlers to be perfection.

Within minutes Otto (Emilio Estevez) is staking his credentials as his friend Kevin (Zander Schloss) proves surely the prototype that Napoleon Dynamite was based on.

It doesn’t take long to get to the scene where Otto is trying to get a blowjob while “Institutionalized” by Suicidal Tendencies plays in the background.  Truly romantic.  Of course it all ends badly eventually seeing Otto sat on some rail tracks singing his accapella version of “TV Party”.  The movie always had the greatest soundtrack.

Soon Harry Dean Stanton enters the fold as he hooks up with him and becomes a fully fledged repo man while everything around them proceeds to go batshit crazy.

Eventually the movie reaches the point of the repo code being delivered/dispatched by Dean Stanton which is something I can get with (even if I can’t subscribe).  “People need a code to live by.  Look at those arseholes, ordinary fucking people, I hate them”.

With this my latest viewing of the movie I finally notice Stiff Records band The Untouchables make their appearance along with Rodney Bingenheimer’s cameo in the club for the first time.  Also today I clock the call out in the hospital for “Dr Benway” and “Dr Lee”.  This is definitely why it is better to see a movie on a big screen.

Finally it all pulls together as the book of Dioretix may or may not be responsible for what is happening around them.  Then it all ends with Otto declaring “fuck that” as he heads off into the stars in the Malibu.

From here I stomp direct to Leicester Square station and up to Holborn and over to Liverpool Street racing against the clock the whole way.  Unsurprisingly I wind up on a late train that gets me home past midnight.


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