MasterChef Fever

MasterChef Fever, noun, singular.

Symptoms/Definitions of different case victims:

1. A person who has suddenly realised how much they know about cooking thanks to MasterChef. In some extreme cases their perceived knowledge exceeds that of both the contestants and the judges of the show. Ex: "Wtf sif Julie gets through, at least Chris plated his meals - i culd cook what she cooked easy :@"

2. A person who has suddenly become intensely interested in cooking following watching MasterChef, and now asks detailed questions about every meal. Ex: "Hmm...what have they put in this canteen pasta? I think I detect some basil, a hint of parsely, and unless I'm very much mistaken, some thyme? I wonder if they browned the meat first? Did they fry the garlic and herbs in oil first to release the flavours?"

3. A person who has realised how much they know about the contestants of the show, solely through watching the show. Will often draw on quotes from the show to qualify their opinions. Ex: "I don't think Poh will have the stamina to get through the show. I mean, when the 'Pohllercoaster' is on a high , she's great, but wow, when she has a 'Poh meltdown', she's no 'aPohcalypse'. She's artistic, but lacks the guts it takes to take out the championship - and her knowledge of Asian food is really basic - if the judges were Asian, they'd be like 'wtf squid ink cube noodles this is easy shit'.'

Ok, so I've jumped on the bandwagon and started watching MasterChef. And it's great, cool, non negative, friendly, educational television. With interesting and genuinely likeable contestants, rather than Bazza from Reservoir who's on Big Brother to "get sum tits & inflate condms ovr my hed and get famus :)". The judges are fair rather than harsh, and we all go away learning something.

And people are getting really worked up about it. I've never been on board a reality show, and it's nuts with MasterChef. Facebook and internet forums are abuzz with favourite and hated contestants ("Chris, cos he's really arrogant and up himself." Of course. You'd know, wouldn't you, you've known him for years. No? Oh, then you're a psychoanalyst. No? Oh, so then you're just arbitrarily deciding to 'hate' someone you've never met just for kicks? Ok.)

And we're all entitled to free speech, but I'll still continue being amused by these people because it comes down to two things:

1. You can't actually taste their food, so you're in no position to judge as to whether an elimination was fair or not.

2. Even if you could, there's a reason you weren't contacted by Ten to be a judge.

Gelati Gecko On Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

WARNING: THIS POST MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS. I DON'T PARTICULARLY MEAN THAT I GIVE AWAY CRUCIAL PLOT DETAILS, BUT JUST THAT READING THIS MAY RUIN YOUR VIEWING OF THE FILM.

Like many other wild fanatic Harry Potter fans out there, I’ve just been to see the latest instalment in the film series, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. And so, drawing on my complete ignorance of filmmaking, acting, and my unwavering loyalty to the novels, I think I am perfectly placed to give a balanced mildly worded review. Or perhaps not.

Firstly, why the hell do they keep removing great parts from the novels only to replace them with either stilted and clichéd scenes, or special effects/action that serves no conceivable purpose? The whole subplot with Scrimgeour and the Ministry? Gone. He wasn’t even in it. But don’t worry, instead of the scene at The Burrow where Harry puts the Ministry in its place, we had Bellatrix (who was indeed fantastically acted by the incomparable Helena Bonham Carter) and Fenrir Greyback (no idea who acted him, but he was pretty good, given the fact that he had no scenes where he actually fought anyone – yes that’s right, the scene at the end where Bill is bitten is gone – oh, and so is Bill. And Fleur) showing up at The Burrow, setting a ring of fire, after which Harry and Ginny tear off so we can enjoy some nail-bitingly tense moments of alien movie-esque pushing through cornfields, before both Death Eaters decide to leave, though not before seeming to blow up the Weasley’s whole house in flames?! I mean honestly, how did that scriptwriting decision go:

Scriptwriter #1: I think we should try to stay faithful to the novel – the analogous reaction of the Magical Ministry to that of governments and terrorism is definitely something worth investigating.

Scriptwriter #2: Hmm...yes, it’s...umm...why don’t we have Death Eaters randomly show up and blow up The Burrow?

Scriptwriter #3: Hey, yeah! It’ll be like....*mimes with hands* then WHOOOOOSH WHOOOOARHHHHHHH-

Scriptwriter #1: I actually think that...

Scriptwriter #2: YEAH YEAH, WHOOOOOOOSH!!!!!

The other issue was that, for all their “this is a dark film, yes, most dark and dangerous as Harry encounters the demons of Voldemort’s past” or whatever other tagline they’ve been running, the parts that should have been disturbing and scary were largely flat.

Harry and Malfoy’s fight in Myrtle’s bathroom was, for me, when I read the book, disturbing – J.K. Rowling didn’t hold back from describing the gory spell which a horrified Harry uses on Malfoy. Why don’t we compare the two:

Film:

Malfoy is crying in front of a bathroom mirror, thinking he’s by himself. Harry is watching, takes a step and Malfoy sees him in the mirror. He hurls a spell at him, Harry dodges, some taps get burst, until Harry jumps out and mildly states “Sectumsempra”, whereupon the spell gently nudges Malfoy, and he collapses to the ground. Blood starts mysteriously appearing, only on his chest, as he lies in a pool of water, until Snape fixes him up

Book:

There is a similar fight to that at the start of the film. Let’s pick it up from here...

There was a loud bang and the bin behind Harry exploded; Harry attempted a Leg-Locker Curse that backfired off the wall behind Malfoy’s ear and smashed the cistern beneath Moaning Myrtle, who screamed loudly; water poured everywhere and Harry slipped over as Malfoy, his face contorted, cried ‘Cruci-’

‘SECTUMSEMPRA!’ bellowed Harry from the floor, waving his wand wildly.

Blood spurted from Malfoy’s face and chest as though he had been slashed with an invisible sword. He staggered backwards and collapsed on to the waterlogged floor with a great splash

Now honestly, just tell me. Why, when the scene was clearly written, and it was cool, and dramatic, and the effects and everything could have been great, would they have changed it? The only possible explanation can be that they were chasing an M15+ type rating, and were scared that it may have been nudged over to the MA15+ bracket if it was too gory (probably also why we didn’t see anyone get Splinched).

The next part that could have been really great was Dumbledore’s death scene. To be honest, it was pretty decent – Michael Gambon was improved than from previous films, though still missing the warm sense of humour and wit with which Rowling imbues Dumbledore on the pages (more on Dumbledore disservices later). Yet some of his new lines sounded stilted and awkward, surprising given that in the book they already had a fantastic script. The Death Eaters were able to just stroll around the castle at their leisure – Hagrid’s hut was set on fire, but Hagrid and Fang were for some inexplicable reason nowhere to be seen. And then suddenly the whole frigging school appears around Dumbledore’s body – yeah, just five minutes too late people.

I’ll get my whinging about Dumbledore out of the way now – as you can see, this blog post lacks any kind of cohesiveness, cogence, context, or other ‘c’ words generally pertaining to good writing. Michael Gambon was decent this time, but he just lacked – as he has for the last few films – his sense of humour, which I feel to be quite an integral part of Dumbledore’s overall character. Given that they were seemingly anxious to add in a few jokes, many of which worked well, it was confusing that they got rid of the first scene where Dumbledore meets the Dursleys, which, given the decent actors in the roles of Petunia and Vernon, would have worked quite well. Also, there were two instances where they showed a poor understanding of Dumbledore’s character:

1. Dumbledore asks Harry if he and Hermione are ‘an item’. Perhaps you’re thinking “surely it’s woven into the scene so it doesn’t stand out and isn’t as terribly cringeworthy and awkward as it sounds”. You’d be wrong. Of course Dumbledore wouldn’t try and have some sort of “dish the dirt, tell us the goss” conversation with Harry. He’s spending half his time educating Harry on his task to defeat the most evil wizard of all time and protecting the school from attack, and the rest hunting down fragments of the aforementioned evil wizard’s soul.

2. After viewing Professor Slughorn’s complete memory of Riddle questioning him on Horcruxes, Dumbledore says “this is worse than I could have possibly imagined”. No, it isn’t. You’ve been acting on this assumption for the past year, that’s why you collected his ring and destroyed it. This is a multi-million dollar film, the most successful film franchise every apparently. How do lines like that get through?

Lastly, all Gaunt memories were left out, and while the memories shown looked cool, it would have been nice to have had some more time exploring Voldemort’s character, as I found these parts some of the most interesting of the book. And even the small details, that were changed for no good reason – such as Felix Felicis, which was given this description in the book:

The potion was within [the small black cauldron] was splashing about merrily; it was the colour of molten gold, and large drops were leaping like goldfish above the surface, though not a particle had spilled.

Why replace a mildly interesting image with a less mildly interesting nondescript vial?

You may be getting the impression that I loathed this film. I didn’t. It’s fine entertainment, capably acted, etc. I just wish it was as good as it could have been, or at least how I saw it in my blinkered and inflexible imagination. There is more but I can’t be bothered, and I’m sure you don’t want to read it.

P.S. I don’t think this has been a success, either as a piece of entertainment or as anything. I’ll keep from film reviews in the future.

Salvador Dali Exhibition

The other day I visited the Salvador Dali exhibition at the National Gallery of Victoria. And I was surprised by the number of children there, given the highly sexual nature of much of his later work. And some of the children there put the five year old me to shame with their maturity, with exchanges in a kindergarten group such as this:

Teacher (leading group of about eight children around seven years old to a nude sketch): See this one? Isn’t it amazing! Look children, look at the buttocks, and the shape he’s managed to draw.

Me (thinking what the hell is she doing, these children are seven years old, this is completely bizarre): ...

Young boy (peering closely): Wow, how did he get that shading on the thigh?

Teacher (approvingly): Yes, Thomas, it’s just very light pencil strokes, see? (encouraging them to look closer, while the children all nod very seriously.)


And of course there were just the nice family groups out to enjoy some high art, like this mother and similarly young son:

Mother: Ooh, I like this one, don’t you? See how there’s the piano, and that object stuck into the side of it? What do you see the object as? Above: The guilty picture.

Boy: Isn’t it a skull?

Mother: Is it? It could be.

Boy: It looks like it.

Mother: Hmm. (Glances over at the caption, which is concisely labelled Atmospheric Skull Sodomizing a Grand Piano) Yes...I think it is a skull. Let’s go and look at this one!

Also screening at this child friendly exhibition was Dali’s first 17 minute short film, Un chien andalou. This surrealist film, which I’m rather surprised to find has not yet been adapted into a nice children’s series, opens subtly with a woman’s eyeball being sliced open by a razor. Throughout the film, a woman is groped by a man tied to two pianos, two dead and bloodied donkeys and two priests, all to the music of an Argentinean tango, dead hands are poked in the street, a woman run over, ants burst out of hands, and much more. A few parents rushed out midway, covering their children’s eyes while making scandalised tutting noises.

Three hundred pairs of breasts and many Freudian interpretations of works containing the words “phallic” later, the exhibition was over. So there you go, a cultured and sophisticated glance into one of the great geniuses in history. Seriously though, it was very interesting.