BBVII

The weary, depleted eye of BB8?

Do you love it or do you hate it?

Is it your hot summer viewing, or has the hot summer sun simply dried out this well known, loved and loathed format?

The chances are that even if you aren't a fan of the show, you'll still be overwhelmed by tabloid newspapers trying to print the best pictures of someone's nipple, while the broadsheets quietly chastise the show, pleading for the end to come. So has Big Brother gone from the almost intelligent experiment that we all witnessed 7 years ago to an obscene show filled with nudity, drunkenness and violence.

It is true that the show has changed. Who can forget the unlikely characters from season 1. I cannot imagine any of those comparatively normal people getting into the show anymore. We had a Nun for goodness sake, as well as computer salesmen and other people with average, mundane jobs. These were real, everyday people. Back then it could have been described as a sociological experiment. Even the house was dull and took on a 'back to basics' style. There were no hidden surprises. No secret brotherhood. No lies encouraged and started by big brother. Nothing. They just put the housemates into the house and let them get on with it while we watched in our millions.

This year, however, it's completely different.

It's actually rather unfair to say that this year is different. There has been a gradual change in the format since the start. It's more about making the housemates suffer. We want Big Brother to put them in, tear them apart, patch their relationships back up only to shred them to pieces. It doesn't help that they are consistent in mixing social opposites, and extremes thereof. You just know that if a homophobe is in there, so will a homosexual. You're putting in an upper class chap who's earned his money and hates people who scrounge from the Government? In goes Wee Boab from round the corner who hasn't done an honest days work in his life. Racists are accompanied by ethnic minorities. Chauvinistic men are accompanied by strong, self-confident, lesbian women's rights activists.

This year we have a whole load of irritating, conflicting people. We have quiet royal George, a self confessed mummy's boy. British, and homophobic. Then we have Shahbaz, the unemployed Scottish Pakistani Poof who has been nothing but over dramatic, argumentative and petty and has already fallen out with all of the housemates. We have Pete who is also unemployed and suffers from Tourette's Syndrome, causing him to say 'wank' or 'wanker' all of the time (sometimes I wonder if it really is the Tourette's based on who he's forced to talk to) and we have Lea, a 35 year old mother who claims she has the largest (and possibly most expensive) breast implants in the whole of the country.

So we have a small space where opposites are forced together prior to a huge clash and explosion of strong personalities. If this were a nuclear warhead I would have left the country by now. This is, essentially, a TV show about nothing. It's filled with drivel and doesn't do anything. It just sits there. They just sit there. Doing nothing. All day. But for some reason, millions of people tune in religiously every night.

Including me.

I'm addicted. Despite all I say against the programme, it's compelling viewing and I'll be hooked 'till the end. Season after season, night after night. I'll be there watching, along with 4.5 million other people with nothing better to do with their summer.

Spring cleaning!

After much deliberating, and the imminent arrival of a friends sister who I was looking after, I finally did the deed and tidied my room. I know it sounds rather like I'm living at home and have been forced into hard labor by evil clean-freak controlling parents, but this was something I did for me (and if you know my parents, you'll know they aren't clean freaks. Evil and controlling maybe, but certainly not clean freaks)

In all sincerity, it was an absolute state. I was the sort of person who, at home did live in a pigsty. I shared a room with my brother, and with the amount of toys that nobody wants to throw out (How many different variation of the game Monopoly does one family need? And will Iain play with the wooden railway ever again?) and clothes that haven't fitted since we were two, the place was just disgusting. I always swore that once I flew the nest I would never let my room, flat, house or manse get anything like that. Ever.

Unfortunately, full time employment comes along and screws about with your ability to have any self motivation what so ever and you casually drop things sound in the knowledge that you'll pick it up later. You never do. After a few weeks of this it's inevitable that, much to my dismay, it doesn't look quite like it did at the start. I ended up with a desk and ironing board combination set up which was cluttered with DVD's, newsletters from work, bank statements, forms to fill in, letters to be posted, books to read and so on and so forth. Now add the clutter to the size of the room, and it fast becomes clear why I couldn't live like that any more. Not to mention the extra strain on my already painful leg which did less walking and more climbing around my room.

Anyway, with the arrival of the child to be minded as incentive (who seemingly doesn't react well to dust and general grime) I got it out of the way. And boy, does it feel good.

The Da Vinci Code

Last night I braved the terrible pain in my leg to be one of the first people to see the film adaptation of Dan Brown's wonderful, fast paced and ever so slightly controversial book The Da Vinci Code.
We've all heard of the plagerism suit brought against Dan Brown in recent months from The Holy Blood and he Holy Grail authors Richard Leigh and Michael Baigent which threatened the film's release, but Random House fought well, and the film made it's worldwide premiere at the opening of the Cannes Film Festival on the 17th of May. So after all of the publicity surrounding it's release, is this a film that you simply cannot miss? Here's my view, from someone who's a huge fan of the book.

Although I was looking forward to it very much, I was exhausted and drifted in and out of consciousness through the film. From what I did see, the film was a well produced film. It did not, however, stick particularly close to the book, but I'll get to that later. As a film it was very exciting, although it wasn't quite as fast paced as the book, nor as descriptive. The cinematography and post production work was very relevant. I liked the way characters thoughts (when trying to work something out) were materialised in front of them. The scene in Westminster Abbey where Langdon was trying to solve the clue to open the cryptex whilst Sophie was being help at gunpoint was particularly effective. I also noticed that they used this gosting effect a lot on arrival at Westminster Abbey to depict scenes from long ago.

As for the accurcy in terms of the novel (historical accuracy is fat too controversial for little me to discuss) I was not terribly impressed. There are a lot of small pieces which really irritated me, as an avid fan of the book. At the start of the story, we know Langdon is taken away by the DCPJ Detective Jérôme Collet. In the book we see that Langdon is in bed in his lavish Ritz bedroom, when he gets a 1am call from the hotel concierge telling him someone is here for him (much to his dismay - it is early after all) and that the man is on his way up. The film doesn't even attempt to immitate the book here, with Langdon being removed from a book signing by Collet. There were a few more minor changes to the storyline and one absolutely major use of creative licence which I was rather shocked at.

The Ending.

As anyone who has read the book will know, Langdon and Sophie arrive at Roslyn Chapel just before closing. They see the last of the days tours, but have a look round on their own. Sophie realises she has been there before and is drawn to a cottage to the rear of Roslyn where she meets a woman who starts welling up with tears. This is Sophie's Grandmother, was was married to her Grandfather, Jacques Saunière. We learn from her that Sophie is a descendant of Christ, and has Holy Blood. She is reunited with her brother (who happened to be the tourguide as well). Langdon asks Sophies Grandmother about the riddle, and how although he was convinced that the Grail was here, he couldn't find the blade and challice which guard o'er her gates. The Grandmother explains this and Langdon realises that the Grail has moved to France, back to the Louvre where he goes to kneel before it. We never get confirmation of this, however, and are left with the mystery.

In the film the ending has been tainted with Hollywood. Robert and Sophie arrive, and the tour guide meets them. They walk about and wind up downstairs led by the Star of David - noticed by langdon as intersecting blade and challice. They finally meet with the Sangreal documents and Langdon tells Sophie that Jacques Saunière is not her Grandfather! How the producers managed to get away with that I'll never know. When they return upstairs the Priory of Sion have gathered (contacted by the guide) and the grandmother is there as well. She explains to Sophie that the Priory will protect her, and she is introduced to them. This was shocking to me, as in the book the identity of the members of the Priory of Sion are kept secret, even to those who they protect.

Although the ending was not quite what I had imagined from the book, it was effective in dragging in audiences, and it's very emotional. I have to say that my disapointment was overcome by an emotional shiver in my spine at various moments in the vault with the Sangreal documents.

All in all it was an enjoyable evening, even if I did fall asleep through most of the film! I'll have to see it again now...