John Mayer

I am actually in the middle of watching Bonfire of the Vanities (I wish the actors in this were different - not a big Hanks fan) so I'll make this emotional and uncharacteristic outburst quick. Basically, my friend instructed me to listen to John Mayer a while ago, and because I am a hideously snobby and punk obsessed bitch, I politely (or rudely, I can't recall) declined. On second thoughts, who am I kidding, it was definitely rude. Ashamedly, one of the main reasons for this declination was that I read one too many gossip magazines, and as we all know, Mayer's branded a bit of a Lothario: in other words, a cunt. So, moving on from heinous popular culture character assassinations, the other day, another friend of mine actually took the time to link me to a YouTube video of him, and because all the effort it required from me was a click, I thought, hey, why the fuck not. And man, am I glad I did. The song she linked me to, by the way, was In Your Atmosphere. It is, in short, a masterpiece. It's essentially one of those songs I wish I had written, if I could a) play the guitar or b) sing. You know, being able to do any of the things needed to write a good song, that would be a start. Anyway, so after making the gallant effort to click on a link, I also (shamefully) made the gallant effort to collect various torrents, download them, then listen to them. And I am now a fully-fledged John Mayer fan, and earlier today bought this to make myself feel better about the aforementioned torrents. The Where The Light Is live album is the music dreams should be made of. It's the kind of record that makes me want to pick up my desolate, dust-covered guitar and play it till my fingers bleed. If I did that, by the way, I'd produce about 1/100th of the beauty Mayer stretches across this record. Highlights for me are the blissfully melodic 'Neon', the somewhat devastatingly beautiful 'Gravity' and of course, the song that inspired me to listen to more, 'In Your Atmosphere'.

Anyone who hasn't heard it, needs to put that right, now. At worst, it will be like listening to colossal waves crash on a paradisal beach, i.e. pleasurable but perhaps not something you want to indulge in at all times, and at best it will be the permanent soundtrack to a reflection on the human condition whilst reading endless philosophical texts, as I am doing. Or you might just spin the record a few times and enjoy it, whatever.

Les Chansons D'Amour

So, I was only going to 'review' new shit, but then I watched this film last night and decided I had to write something about it. I wasn't that optimistic prior to watching due to two factors: I am not by any means a sucker for poncey French sentimentalism, and it only has 2.5 stars on Lovefilm, which I have come to realise means jack shit, but even so, it tainted my disposition. In addition, as a general rule, I don't like anything resembling a musical. It repulses the realism lover in me.

Anyway, first things first. Louis Garrel is a sexy motherfucker. I really do mean sexy here, in a really weird grotesque way where I find his face so intensely fascinating that it becomes an obsession. So I'll be frank, any film with him in was probably going to win my affections in some way, because paying attention was destined to be undemanding at worst. Also, it's not just Garrel in a film, it's Garrel in a SEXUALLY CHALLENGING film. Which brings me onto my next, more substantial and less shallow point...

Les Chansons D'Amour is not a modest attempt at film making. It deals with bisexuality (or homosexuality if you want to conclude that, but I don't), threesomes, death, family relationships, and alongside all that it has to strive to come under the genre of 'musical' without being nauseatingly tacky. The sexuality in the film, in my opinion, is pretty alluring. I like the idea of sexuality having no labels, and I like the fact that when both Ismael and Ludivine are asked to explain their relationships at different points of the film, they don't really feel obliged to. I basically think it manages to portray bisexuality effectively enough that you don't want to question it.

The musical aspect of the film doesn't bother me one way or the other. I mean considering I generally hate musicals, the fact that I didn't smash up the DVD player in abject horror means Christophe Honore has won really. Some of the songs are catchy, and some of them are pretty cute. Actually, fuck it, I'm going to go all out and say the songs actually add to the film as opposed to just running alongside it trying to keep up. Yeah, that's right, you heard me.

I realise this review is almost offensively positive, therefore my criticism will be that the ending had the same kind of intensity that an orgasm has when you've already had about five and you can't be fucked anymore but you're bored enough to get there. It's still good, but it's not the climax you were hoping for. I think that's a good sexual metaphor for a film that I think was considerably sexy despite the whole death vibe.

Enough, I'm now going to go and watch Hollyoaks to balance the brilliance to complete and utter shite ratio that governs my screen viewing.