Archive for the ‘One Minute Reviews’ Category

One Minute Review: Garnier Ultralift Pro X

November 18, 2008

Davina McCall: As we age, skin loses its plumpness and wrinkles appear deeper. It’s all about bounce.
Man’s voice and subtitle: New Garnier Ultralift Pro X
Subtitle: Proven Temporary effect
Man’s voice and subtitle: Enriched with patented Pro-Xylane – derived from Beechwood extract
Davina: For me it’s the best anti-wrinkle cream
Subtitle: Intense firming anti-wrinkle care
Davina: It plumps up the skin and wrinkles appear pushed up, like this…

[she squeezes stress ball and then relaxes it]

Subtitle:
Dramatisation
Davina: Plumper skin – wrinkles appear reduced!
Man’s voice and subtitle: New Garnier Ultralift Pro X
Davina and subtitle: Take care
Man’s voice and subtitle: (Garnier)

They say the best scripts read just as well as they perform. Shakespeare rolls off the page, iambic pentameters bouncing with vim and vigour. Tennessee Williams’ melodrama shrieks at you as you scan his directions. You can even smell the stale gin on Withnail’s overcoat as you flick through Bruce Robinson’s screenplay.

I’d say the same is true of this offering from Garnier. The subtle combination of Davina McCall’s trusted, earthy personality combined with the voiceover from an unseen, softly spoken male is compounded by the sub-script up onscreen – a clinical white font offering useful additional information on this apparently amazing product. I know, I know – the fact that the stress-ball wrinkle-relief is a dramatisation could be considered a bit of a swizz, but for heaven’s sake! This is Davina McCall!

If we can trust anyone, it is she.

It’s all about plumpness.

Take care.

One Minute Review: Argumental

November 4, 2008

This new comedy panel game is the first of Dave’s home-grown output, I think. I suppose they’re going to run out of QI and Top Gear repeats eventually, so it seems prudent to start making some of their own stuff.

This is rubbish though. Lovely old buffer John Sergeant as the host just looks pleased to be back on telly again and is either a better actor than I thought or genuinely finds these twats amusing.

The idea is this: two teams of two comedians. John gives them a subject to argue for or against. The audience vote for who is the winner.

It’s taken one of the rounds from Mock The Week and made a whole series out of it. I guess these things really stand or fall on the quality of the comedians and the two team captains, Marcus Brigstocke and Rufus Hound, just aren’t funny enough to carry it in my view.

The arrogant notion that you can be hilarious just by standing up and improvising can be quashed by going to any comedy night and seeing some dick trying it on stage. You can tell who’s laughing in the audience – it’ll be either drama students or pished under 21’s.

Some people can do it excellently, of course. I’m not really a fan of Mock The Week, but I think some of the guys on that do it fairly well. The master, for me, is the peerless Paul Merton. But it’s not nearly as easy as it looks, as anyone tuning into this forgetable rubbish will find out.

Razorlight: Wire to Wire

October 20, 2008

 

Complete and utter dogshit.

 

 

 

And do your fucking shirt up, you ninny.

Girls Aloud on Jo Whiley’s Live Lounge

September 28, 2008

Only just heard about this rendition of an already pretty turgid song. Listen out for the caterwauling on the chorus. The only benefit of Jo Whiley’s radio show is that it occasionally, accidentally sorts the wheat from the chaff in terms of those who actually have a smidgen of talent as compared to the over-produced, bizarrely acclaimed pile of shit at the top of this post.

My ears are bleeding.

One Minute Review: Vauxhall Corsa

August 21, 2008

YOU WILL TAKE THE STRANGE VAUXHALL ‘C’MON’ PUPPET THINGS TO YOUR FUCKING HEARTS!

They won’t let it go, will they? The advertising agency has decided we’re going to damn well like these … these … whatever the fuck they are, so we’d better get used to the idea. They’ve done tie-ins with soft toy companies so we can all own one of the … of the … what the fuck are they? You can buy key-rings with them on, mouse mats, mugs – anything you could think of that you can stick one of these doo dahs on, you can buy it. Hooray!

NOTE TO VAUXHALL:

You can’t simply decide what the next Flat Eric, ITV Digital Monkey, Crazy Frog etc. will be. The public – fickle beasts that they are – will either warm to your unusual advertising creation or they won’t. Putting the soft toys and the key rings and the tea towels in the shops in anticipation of a countrywide feeding frenzy doesn’t automatically guarantee that feeding frenzy will take place.

Your … erm … whatever the fuck these things are supposed to be… are also-rans. They’re the new PG Tips birds, the new Noid (see? Nobody even knows what the fuck that is); they’re not Churchill the nodding dog, and they’re never going to be.

So, bearing this in mind – Vauxhall, can you please take your ‘C’Mon!’ puppet things away from our screens, and shove them right up your fucking arse?

Thanks.

One Second Review – Alphabeat: Fascination

August 20, 2008

Is it just me, or (apart from being bloody awful) does this:

Sound worryingly like this:

?

Is this the start of a new trend?

What’s next? Nick Cave doing the theme to Button Moon? Slayer covering Wacaday

It’s the beginning of the end.

One other thing:

One Minute Review: Forgetting Sarah Marshall

July 15, 2008

Composer’s actress girlfriend leaves him for rock star, Russell Brand. Composer goes to Hawaii to get over it, despite knowing ex will be there. Ex is there. Russell Brand is a tame version of himself, talking like Davie Jones of the Monkees. He’s a rock star because that means he can do comedy songs to make screen time pass a bit more quickly. The songs are quite funny.

The receptionist at the hotel is attractive and is clearly the second love interest from the moment she appears onscreen – thus all will-she / won’t-she drama is squibbed. Nothing really happens for an hour. Then the end happens.

I know you shouldn’t go looking for enlightenment in a Judd Apatow film, but you’d have thought you might get a few belly-laughs.

That chubby stoner from Knocked Up is here as a stalker-like fan of Brand’s band, Infant Sorrow. He isn’t really given any material you’d call ‘comic’. The one black character – a big, fat barman – is meant to be an amusing character, I think, because all he does is list things. Which isn’t very funny. There’s a thread about a wimpy newlywed on honeymoon who’s scared of sex, but that one failed to raise a smile. The surfing stoner played by the husband in Knocked Up kept forgetting things. I think he was also meant to be funny. It’s quite tricky working out what you’re meant to be laughing at which, for a comedy, poses a problem.

Russell Brand does his usual schtick, but a diluted, American-family-friendly version of it, so all potential for cheekiness and irreverence is snuffed out. Brand with a script isn’t quite the same beast as the sex-freak with the haircut when he’s allowed to improvise. He’s a little bit wasted here, but you’d imagine it’d be a challenge to give him a role in anything, being as he’s developed his own persona. In a way, he’s stuck with himself, much like Frankie Howerd or Kenneth Williams were.

The only remarkable aspect of the whole film is the fact that you see the leading man’s penis on two occasions. The comedy reveal of his winky is another failed laugh-prod, ultimately feeling like a pretty desperate attempt to shove in something for bloggers to talk about – like the ‘crowning’ scene in Knocked Up – another example of a tacked on shocker.

All in all – not as annoying or rubbish as Knocked Up, and without the occasional quality gags.

Apatow’s surely had his time… while the likes of Stiller, Ferrell and Sandler have all long outstayed their welcome. Can Hollywood do us some decent comedy now, please?

One Minute Review: Diary of the Dead

June 23, 2008

A disappointment, in the same vein as the very-poor-indeed Land of the Dead. Diary of the Dead focuses far too heavily on the survivors – all of whom are irritating stereotypes. We have the geek, the macho jock, the Texan beauty queen and, hysterically enough, the bow and arrow-wielding professor with his terrible English accent.

Worst of all, we have the man holding the camera. Romero’s point about this generation of rubbernecked, car crash watching youtube-addicts is all well and good – but when a pretty girl is being chased by a zombie only metres away and the cameraman (himself a character in the movie) decides to just keep rolling rather than intervene with a sharp implement to the eye socket, any realism sought through the use of digital camera imagery is blown out of the water.

Still, for all that, there are zombies. But the sad thing is, there aren’t many of them. Nowhere near enough of them and at no point do we get a whole load of them swarming towards us – the essential visual when you consider the genre.

Still, there is a really good bit where they use those ECG things you use to jump start a heart on a zombies head, making her eyes pop out like strawberry angel delight – so for that alone it’s worth renting. But a much better and more considered undead film shot from the first person is The Zombie Diaries, an under-the-radar British oddity.

And it’s got Dr Legg in it.