You Have Been Watching (TV Special) ...Tutti Frutti

There are works of art that you carry with you, that make you look at life in a different way and hold a significance beyond simply enjoyment or appreciation. I suppose you fall in love with them. For me one of these is John Byrne's Tutti Frutti. It wasonly six episodes long but it changed Scottish TV, although not as much as it should. It is rare, especially in terms of modern television, that one-man's vision arrives on screen so fully formed. Alan Clarke, Denis Potter, Stephen Poliakoff and, with his recent This Is England '86, Shane Meadows, are the exceptions that come to mind. In Scottish television I can think of only two that stand comparison. One is Peter McDougall, and I'll look at his work soon. The other is John Byrne.

Byrne not only wrote the script, he provided the artwork for the titles and the accompanying BBC book, and his vision is in every detail. He also had the power to insist that Robbie Coltrane was the only choice to play leading man Danny McGlone (as well as his deceased older brother 'Big Jazza').

The casting of Coltrane is worth consideration. It would seem unlikely that a man of his physical stature would ever be considered as a romantic lead. Those who have seen Tutti Frutti and are aware of the chemistry between Coltrane and his leading lady Emma Thompson (above) will realise how short sighted such a view would be. Coltrane's performance is perfect leading man material, but, with the exception perhaps of Cracker, his subsequent career shows how unusual this role was.

Byrne was not afraid to take risks with his characters. Tutti Frutti contains wonderfully realised, if flawed, human beings. This particularly applies to the men. The rogues' gallery that includes Richard Wilson's deluded, suave, conman 'Eddie Clockerty', Stuart McGugan's short fused and misogynistic drummer 'Bomba Macateer' and Maurice Roeves' aging, pathetic, lothario 'Vincent Diver' are characters without being caricatures. Byrne manages to extract comedy and pathos, often simultaneously, in these performances. Do not mistake this for romantic comedy, it is drama in its truest sense, and Byrne's dark side is always present to stop the audience from settling.

It would be remiss of me not to mention the female characters who are equally well drawn. Emma Thompson has never been better and her 'Suzie Kettles' is the perfect counterpoint to Coltrane's 'Danny', both of them making what is an unlikely love story completely believable. Kate Murphy as the gallus, cultured and smart mouthed 'Janice Toner' is perhaps the standout performance against stiff and lauded opposition. The real drama is to be found in two characters who are secondary in terms of billing. Vincent's two women; the tragic girlfriend 'Glenna' and his long suffering wife 'Noreen', may not get the screen time of other characters but their story is where the heart of the drama is found. As with other Byrne scripts the comedy and knockabout banter may get your attention, but it's the tragedy and pathos that stay after the credits roll. The following scenes are a great example of this. In a beat the viewer is taken from brilliant comedy to real tragedy. But be warned, the following contains a *major spoiler*:

Byrne's real genius is to be found in the scripts. His ear for the unusual in everyday language makes the drama sparkle as he manages to have his characters speak in a way that is recognisable to his audience, but much more interesting and lyrical than they could ever be. The influence of the fast-talking, wise-cracking, American cinema of his youth is obvious and fits the West of Scotland obsession with all things USA, particularly in the mid-late 1980s where you couldn't move for rockabilly bands busking on Buchanan Street, and 'Diners' opening on every corner. The accents may have been Glaswegian, but the haircuts and patter told of dreams of Eddie Cochran or Jimmy Dean. Byrne wasn't mocking such obsession, he was part of it. Tutti Frutti is a love letter to the music, films, people and places of his youth and it is the complete understanding of the world he creates that persuades the audience that they want to be part of it.

Tutti Frutti managed to both influence and overshadow the Scottish TV drama that followed. Byrne's own YourCheatin' Heart and Donna Franceschild's Takin' Over the Asylum were personal favourites but no Scottish drama held the same magic as this tale of an ageing rock and roll band. To those who have never seen this I recommend with all my heart. Those who have will understand.

(A longer version of this piece appeared at scotswhayhae 5/8/2009)

The Scottish Enlightenment...

The band with perhaps the best name in Scottish music have a new EP out. The Scottish Enlightenment have just released Little Sleep, and it's a bit of a beauty. The music moves around from Pavement, to Explosions in the Sky, taking in some Icelandic influences, and they even visit shoegazing legends Slowdive along the way.

The final track on the EP, and my favourite, is St Germain is Thick Tonight and it reminds me a little of the gentler side of Ballboy. If you want a more concise description of what they do, and who could blame you after that attempt, singer David Moyes sums their current sound as 'ecclesiastical rock' which will do for me.

You can buy a copy over at Armellodie Records by clicking here. If you're quick you can get one of their 100 limited CD copies. 25 mins of great music for less than a fiver. You cannae beat it. Have a listen to Get My Limousine and the aforementioned St Germain is Thick Tonight and make up your own mind:

And below is a wee extra of the band playing the title track, and a Henry hoover:

Back to the Old School...

It's not every week that one of your musical heroes releases a new album, so when two do then surely I'm allowed a certain weakness in the knees. Edwyn Collins and Lloyd Cole have new releases and I couldn't be happier. Both CD's come lovingly wrapped in simple, glossy, cardboard sleeves with Collins' winning out as the nicer artifact as it is decorated with his wonderful sketches of birds (see right). I know such things count for little, but leave me alone. I'm excited.

Edwyn Collins' album is Losing Sleep, and he has called in favours all over the shop. There's a Crib, a Magic Number, and a couple of Ferdinands, all bands who would acknowledge the importance of Collins, and particularly Orange Juice, on their work. Very exciting are the appearances of Sir Johnny Marr and Edwyn's musical cousin Roddy Frame. These are recording sessions that I would have offered a lung to be able to sit in on.

Losing Sleep is a real musical smorgasbord, with a bit of Motown, a splash of 50s rock n' roll, some new wave attitude and guitars, a bag of Northern Soul and enough Orange Juice (see Orange Juice jonesing for some nostalgia) to please the folk at the back. Many of the reviews of this album have made reference to Edwyn's recent health problems, which is fair enough as there are songs included which do likewise, but don't judge this as an album that has overcome the odds. Just listen to one which stands up against anything released this year. This is the title track:

Lloyd Cole is back to his lyrically confident best, confident enough to nod towards Rod on the track Writers Retreat! (and how I love an unexplained exclamation). Broken Record is an album steeped in Americana, with a little banjo here, some mandolin there, and if you don't know the man's back catalogue you might think that he's trying to make a record for these times, when in fact the times have caught up with what Lloyd considers to be the music that suits him best. With that in mind I can imagine that this will be his most warmly welcomed since the early 90s, when in fact he's been making music this good all along. He also has a few friends on board such as old Commotion chum Blair Cowan, Joan (as Policewoman) Wasser and Fred Maher on drums. I enjoy it when artists get to the point when you feel that they don't overly care what people think of their music, their going to make to their way, anyway. I think Lloyd Cole reached that point some time ago. This is the first single from Broken Record, it's the aforementioned Writers Retreat!:

Which is my favourite? I haven't considered them in those terms. These records have only been in my house for a week but already they have been played more than anything else bought this year (with the exception of John Grant's sublime Queen of Denmark). I've tried to work out why that is. Yes, there is a bit of nostalgia, and a large dose of comfortable recognition, but there's also some great music being made. But most of all Edwyn Collins and Lloyd Cole have made records that, when put together, sound like I feel at this moment in time.

You Have Been Watching...Small Faces

Stereotypes and our relationships with them is a thorny business, and this seems to apply particularly to Scots. For instance, our image in football terms has gone from marauding drunks who all have a square of Wembley turf in our back garden, to 'the best fans in the world TM' who are still drunk, but, apparently, charmingly so. Both of these 'types' have been embraced by Scottish mythology, and there does seem to be an odd sort of pride in the good, the bad and the ugly of our imagery. Our love/hate affair with all things tartan is another example of such cultural confusion, but if such an attitude applies to Scotland, then it applies to Glasgow with bells on.

The stereotypes of what has come to be known as Clydesideism are as strong as any that Scotland has had to offer. This is a 20th century mythology that always has the accompanying terms 'gritty' and 'urban' attached. There are tales of the shipyards, sawdust floored boozers, tonic wine, and gang culture. The most influential text in establishing this reputation was, and still is, Alexander McArthur's 1935 novel No Mean City, but the imagery can be found in the fiction of George Friel and William McIlvanney, the plays of Joe Corrie and Ena Lamont Stewart, and more recently on TV in the dramas of Peter McDougall, in Taggart, and in the comedy of Rab C. Nesbitt. Even Trainspotting is partly based around this mythology, highlighting that this is wide-spread urban mythology rather than a purely Glaswegian one.

This week's film Small Faces is set in1960s Glasgow and concentrates on the gang culture of the time, a mythology that many in Glasgow grew up with. Names like Young Team, Skull, Himshie, Fleeto and Tongs may not mean much to some, but to many Glaswegians they are part of the language, and culture. I've a theory that Glasgow is the most schizophrenic of cities, happy to see itself as a place that will welcome all with open arms, but also enjoying its reputation that casual violence may erupt if you're not careful. The good, the bad and the ugly. It's no wonder that an affinity with the Wild West took hold.

The film is based around the choices facing young Lex McLean, played by Iain Robertson. There are two areas of Glasgow life that fascinate him; the style and violence of the local gangs that his brother Bobby has been involved in and the world of art that his other brother Alan opens up to him when he goes to The School of Art. Both offer respective glamour and the chance to meet women. Lex is Glasgow's dichotomy personified; The City of Culture v's No Mean City in a battle for his soul. Director Gillies MacKinnon, who wrote the script with his brother Billy, knows that worlds overlap, particularly where families are concerned and he has the rather simple, but effective, technique of having Lex have a brother on each shoulder whispering in his ear. Robertson's performance captures that time when childhood still has a hold, but adulthood is approaching far too quickly, with all the confusion that entails. Here's the trailer; one where once again the American voice over does the film no favours:

The cast of Small Faces is one of its best features. As well as the young Iain Robertson, who is astonishing in his first film role, there is Kevin McKidd, Joe McFadden (as in 'what ever happened to...?), Colin McCredie, Steven Duffy and Clare Higgins. Laura Fraser once again plays a character who is the moral centre of the film (see also The Flying Scotsman, 16 Years of Alcohol and Nina's Heavenly Delights). Fraser is a really underrated actress who I last remember seeing in the BBC Burns' Night comedy No Holds Barred. She deserves better. This is the opening of the film and it gives a better impression of what is on offer than the trailer:

Small Faces is nostalgia for a land that time never quite forgot It is a really stylish, accomplished, well acted and, in the main, enjoyable film. But there is something about it that makes me uncomfortable. The lingering shots of guys getting malkeyed, blood on the ice of a skating rink, and the sheer joy and energy of the violence on screen seems to cross a voyeuristic line. But then I'm aware that I don't feel the same when I watch Scarface, City of God, The Firm or Once Were Warriors, at least not to the same extent. Small Faces is a good, entertaining, film but for once I find the glory taken in violence unusually unsettling. Perhaps it's just too close to home.

Dougie's War...

In SWH's recent interview with Rodge Glass (see Edinburgh Exchange: An Interview with Rodge Glass) he mentioned that the next project that he was involved with that would see publication was the graphic novel Dougie's War. I wasn't sure what to expect, but I didn't expect this.

I am a lover of the graphic novel and comic book, and this one is as beautifully produced as I have encountered. The contrast between the quality of the publication and its hard hitting content is marked; gloriously, and I would imagine deliberately, so. If you want people to hear your difficult story then the best thing is to present it in a manner that is accessible and recognisable. In this sense the format of graphic novel is perfect and it is just one of the reasons that Dougie's War works so well.

Glass has written a moving but searingly honest story of one man's struggle to come to terms with civilian life after his return from Afghanistan. This is not a tale simply imagined. Painstaking research and many rounds of interviews with veterans were undertaken to make sure that Dougie's story was one that rang true to soldier, veteran and civilian alike. The story is simply told, which work's not only for Dougie's character and his state of mind, but also keeps the reader focused. Glass has done well to reign in his novelistic tendencies to only tell what is necessary and let the pictures show the rest. As Glass says 'a graphic novel is a joint effort', and the balance struck between writer and illustrator seems well balanced.

The graphics come courtesy of Dave Turrett, and the style of his drawings perfectly suits the story that it depicts. There are obvious nods to earlier 'soldier' stories such as you would find in British comics of the 60s, 70s and 80s, but there are also echoes of more recent graphic novels that deal with conflict such as Art Spiegelmen's Maus, Emmanuel Guibert's Alan's War: The Memories of G.I. Alan Cope and Marjan Satrapi's Persepolis. Here is an example of Dave's work on Dougie's War:

But this is not simply a graphic novel. There are factual accounts from veterans as told to Adrian Searle, the man behind the publication, and these are accompanied by some incredible black and white photography taken on a tour of duty in Helmand Province by Sergeant Nick Collins of the Black Watch. This section is as important to Dougie's War as the graphic novel itself. These real life testimonies are not only informative and powerful in their own right, but they lend a legitimacy to the strip that it may otherwise not have had.

Glass has said that this is not an 'anti-war' novel. But, by depicting the reality of many soldiers existences post-conflict, it should make many of those who are attracted to army life, if not reconsider, then at least have a clearer picture of what it means to be a soldier once the soldiering stops. In a sense Dougie's War is not about war at all, but about mental health and how society often fails to help those who suffer mental health problems. Those involved in Dougie's War came together to try and give a voice to those who have none, and there are more people in our society to whom that applies than we should be comfortable with. Publications such as Dougie's War are vital in reminding us that this is the case. The book should be placed in every school in the country, not to scare children or warn them off joining up, but to create a greater understanding not only of war and its consequences, but how society is only too quick to turn its back on those who do not fit the concept of a 'civilised' society. In doing so it shines a light on all our prejudices and preconceptions.

More information can be found at the website www.dougieswar.com

Dougie's War can be bought from amazon.co.uk

Your Cheatin' Heart...

I finally managed to track down a personal Holy Grail; a copy of John Byrne's Your Cheatin' Heart. This was Byrne's follow up to the recently released on DVD Tutti Frutti which I looked at last year (see A slight bruising of the crotch) and, apart from a dissatisfying final twenty minutes where the drama just seems to peter out, it is the match of its more famous predecessor.

Using country music as Tutti Frutti used Rock n' Roll, Your Cheatin' Heart is centered around one of those areas of Scottish life that most people are only slightly aware of, perhaps through references to Govan's famous 'Grand Ole Opry' or an uncle's obsession with Patsy Cline. It is the perfect place for Byrne's surrealist sensibilities as it is a setting that is not only out of time, but also out of place. Familiar enough to draw the audience in, yet odd enough to throw them out of their comfort zone. It also allows for a terrific soundtrack.

The cast is once more spot on, and includes Katy Murphy, Barbara Rafferty, a young Peter Mullan, Tom Watson (who has six different roles), Jennie McCrindle, Maggie Bell, Helen Atkinson Wood, Richard Jobson and an even younger Daniella Nardini. Special mention must go to Freddie Boardley's Hell's Angel leader 'Toad', whose Doric Scots is almost undecipherable, although once you manage to work it out you realise it's as clever as you would expect from the pen of Byrne.

But there are four performances that I want to concentrate on specifically. The first is the most unexpected. Eddi Reader plays Jolene Jowett, one half of the singing duo 'The McPhail Sisters', and she is a revelation. With her statuesque flame red quiff and angular stance she is a John Byrne drawing come to life, and delivers Byrne's dialogue as if it is second nature. It is the perfect role for her and she steals every scene she's in. Here she is with Kate Murphy giving it some Elvis:

The 'romantic' central pairing are John Gordon Sinclair's 'Diner Tec' style food journalist Frank McClusky and Tilda Swinton's Cissie Crouch. I remember at the time thinking that Sinclair was no match for Swinton on screen, but I now realise that was the point. Imagine 'Gregory' grown up and you get a sense of his performance; a confused adolescent at heart. Where Frank McClusky is defined by his love struck willingness to do anything for Cissie, Swinton gives Cissie a tangible sense of guilt and sorrow. Frank just wants Cissie to notice him, but Cissie has far more pressing concerns on her mind.

The most physical performance comes from Ken Stott as the borderline psychopathic Fraser Boyle, a fishmonger who sells Grade A drugs with his Arbroath smokies. Boyle is a man who thinks nothing of breaking a guy's face for taking 'The King's' name in vain (that's Elvis, not Jesus), or simply attempting to croon anything from the 'Sun' catalogue. It's a hell of a thing to stand out in this company but Stott does so with ease.

Byrne's love for the music, and the people who also love the music, is clear. Anyone thinking that this portrayal of the country and western scene is anything other than affectionate is mistaken. The appearance of country legend Guy Mitchell as 'Jim Bob O' May', as well as using the vocal talents of Reader and Maggie Bell, gives credence to the music and to the lives and loves as portrayed on screen. At the end of the day it's not about the hat and boots, although they are important, it's all about the tunes. This is one of my favourite clips from any TV show. It's 'The Loons o' Lucifer' boot scootin' to The Bellamy Brother's Let Your Love Flow:

As usual with Byrne the real joy lies not in the drama but in the script. In John Byrne Scotland has one of the most talented dramatists around. His mastery of language is apparently effortless, and I can't think of another Scot who brings such humour and lyricism to Scots' dialect. Put simply, he writes as you wish you spoke. It is all too typical that he hasn't been given more opportunity to show his work either on TV or in cinemas. But when you consider how Your Cheatin' Heart, and Tutti Frutti for that matter, were treated by the BBC then you could forgive him for downing tools and giving up. Some people are so good that they can get taken for granted. If ever there was an example of a prophet who was, and still is, not recognized in his own land, at least by those who could change matters for the better, it is John Byrne.

You Have Been Watching...American Cousins

Watching Shane Meadow's film Once Upon A Time in the Midlands the other night two thoughts struck me. The first is that Meadow's is probably the most talented and diverse British film-maker of recent times (Dead Man's Shoes and This is England being two of the best recent British movies) and could I justify claiming the film for this column considering it stars not only Shirley Henderson, but also Robert Carlyle, James Cosmo and David Mackay. I decided I couldn't do it so although it's an interesting film, it's not the one I'm going to talk about here. That film is American Cousins.

It was watching Shirley Henderson that reminded me about American Cousins. No one does vulnerability and suppressed emotion like Shirley, she seems to be the first actor that directors turn to when they want a tragic life shown rather than explained. Her performances can be so raw that it is sometimes difficult to watch. She has featured in some of my favourite films including Wilbur Wants to Kill Himself, as Spud's long suffering girlfriend Gail in Trainspotting, and as Tony Wilson's first wife Lindsay in 24 Hour Party People. Even as Moaning Myrtle in the early Harry Potter films she managed to convincingly portray what it might be like to suffer eternal torment stuck in a school's plumbing system.

While Henderson may be the most well known name involved, hers is not the standout performance; that honour goes to leading man Gerard Lepkowski. Lepkowski was born and raised in Glasgow, but has spent most of his professional career outside of Scotland, most successfully in Australia. He is little known over here,the only other film I've seen him in is Belfast/Glasgow based thriller Man Dancin', but his performance in American Cousins is a revelation. Understated, gentle, showing impeccable dramatic and comedic timing, he manages to convey a man whose dreams have long since been put away as his life has progressed. In the context of the movie it's a beautiful performance. A mention must also go to the legendary Russell Hunter, an actor who was in many seminal TV dramas in the 70s and 80s. Hunter died in 2004 and American Cousins was one of his final jobs. His role as Nonno, the patriarchal fish frier who has raised Lepkowski's Roberto, gives the film a moral centre. Here's the trailer:

American Cousins is Comfort and Joy meets The Sopranos, and I can imagine the pitch for the film was not too far away from that summation. It pulls off this unlikely marriage pretty well, and it has surprising visual flourishes from director Don Coutts such as the ceilidh at Loch Lomond and the fight in the neighbourhood church. Coutts' direction is a real understated feature of the film and, as with Lepkowski, it is a mystery why he has not worked more (perhaps not too much of a mystery considering the film's lack of success). The comedy is conveyed with the lightest of touches, the violence has genuine edge and all the central relationships are believable. It is the simplest of premises; you get a fine script, gather an appropriate coterie of actors, and direct them with a style that never overshadows their performances. Think about it again, then consider how rare it is to watch a film that ticks those particular boxes.

American Cousins uses fairly broad stereotypes, particularly concerning Italian families in Scotland and America, but, while the film never quite subverts them, it positively celebrates them in manner that is never jarring. There are American mobsters, Russian gangsters, ice-cream floats, fish and chips and haggis suppers. Magnums amongst the Magnums. The language is cinematic and this film is a joy for those of us who will recognize the genres and characters that are celebrated on screen.

This is a warm and diverting film. A rom/com that doesn't ignore the drama. Stick it on on a winter's evening when you want to feel better about the world. There are currently quite a few TV shows who do this sort of thing well, but fewer and fewer films. American Cousins is a romantic comedy with heart and soul, and sole.

Come On Gang! Come To Rest...

This Tuesday evening (14th Sept at 8.00pm) at The Captain's Rest in Glasgow there's a great night in prospect. Brooklyn's Here We Go Magic share the stage with Edinburgh's Come On Gang! and it could just be that when those 'gig of the year' roundups that appear in places like this are being written, it will be right up there for consideration.

It is a perfect match up. Here We Go Magic have a small but complex collection of material that critics struggle to pigeonhole, almost always a good thing. They're a little bit pop, a little bit 80's indie, a little ... ach; here's the video for Collector. You can make up your own mind:

Come On Gang! have a terrific new single, Fortune Favours the Brave, released this week and which promises great things from their forthcoming album Strike a Match. It's a power pop track with a joyous video to match:

You can download the single for free here and if good will and good reviews are reliable indicators then they are going to be one of your favourite bands for some time to come. Placed side by side, Here We Go Magic and Come on Gang! are proof, as if any were needed, that pop music is still something that we should talk about. See you next Tuesday.

Write About Love, Right About Now...

A new Belle and Sebastian album means that life is guaranteed to get a little bit better. I'm not going to pretend to be objective here, I'll leave that until I've heard the whole thing, although even then I'll likely struggle. Due for release on the 11th of October Belle and Sebastian Write about Love is slowly being announced to the world. The first tracks to reach these ears promise great, if familiar, things. Different enough to be 'new', but always recognisably Belle and Sebastian. I wouldn't want it any other way.

Below is the half hour Q&A programme that they recently recorded and which also includes two live performances of new songs I Want The World To Stop and I Didn't See It Coming, along with some excerpts of other new tunes. As usual the band are sure footed in how they present themselves and their work and the film is a gorgeous taster of what is to come:

This is their first release since 2006's The Life Pursuit, although we had the lovely God Help the Girl project to keep us going, which apparently some critics found insubstantial. Those people are wrong. The first single from the latest album is the almost title track Write About Love, and it features Cary Mulligan on backing vocals. You'll know her from the excellent film An Education from which she won a best actress BAFTA and was Oscar nominated. Listen here and you can sign up to the band's mailing list while you do so:

For those who care about such things the album, which is once again co-produced with Tony Hoffer, will be available on CD, Gatefold Vinyl and digitally. The full track listing is:

I Didn't See It Coming
Come On Sister
Calculating Bimbo
I Want The World To Stop
Little Lou, Ugly Jack, Prophet John
Write About Love
I'm Not Living In The Real World
Ghost of Rockschool
Read The Blessed Pages
I Can See Your Future
Sunday's Pretty Icons

In addition there will be two bonus tracks, Last Trip and Suicide Girl, which will be available as a 7 inch with the vinyl edition in most countries, and with all editions from selected retailers in the US. A further song, Blue Eyes of A Millionaire, will be a bonus track with selected digital outlets as yet to be specified .

If you want to catch them live, and have as yet not got your ticket, then all the dates can be found here. This includes an extra date at the Barras, Sunday 19th December, to add to the two sold out nights of the 20th and 21st. Get in there fast to avoid disappointment.

I'll leave you with one of my favourite clips of any live performance, from anyone, ever. It's Belle and Sebastian playing The Boy with the Arab Strap at Coachella in 2002 and it is not only the perfect visual representation of a good time, but the perfect riposte to those who think Belle and Sebastian are anything but a joy. Biased? You bet your life:

Buddha Da...

This month's Indelible Ink column looks at Anne Donovan's Buddha Da. I remembered really enjoying this novel first time round, but after some critical reviews from a couple of people I was interested to see if my memory was correct or if my opinion would change. I found it had but not in the way that I feared. This is still one of the most enjoyable novels of the last decade, but I found my allegiances to the characters shifting.

The novel is split into three distinct sections and characters; Jimmy, Liz and Anne Marie. Jimmy is the father who is the catalyst for the novel, as his move towards Buddhism sets events in motion. It may be that I'm closer in age to Jimmy now than when I first read the book, but a character whom I had viewed as fairly sad, who should pull himself together, I now have considerably more time for. I used to view Buddha Da as Anne Marie's novel, but now I'm not so sure.

Anne Donovan's debut is, even after the second reading, funny, moving, lyrical and shows a real insight into the problems that can occur when individuals try to change within a family. It promotes understanding and tolerance, which we all could do with a little more of. Buddhists might call it 'good karma'.

Next month's novel under consideration is Alasdair Gray's classic Lanark. This is a book that you really need to spend some time with. It requires your attention and concentration, but it is more than worth it. It is not only one of Scotland’s great novels, but simply one of the great novels. I would say that if you read only one of my recommendations, then make it Alasdair Gray's Lanark. At least until we get to Ron Butlin's The Sound of My Voice.

You'll be hearing and seeing a lot of Alasdair Gray in the next few months. There is a major pictorial retrospective/biography on the way called A Life in Pictures, and their will be two major exhibitions of his art in Edinburgh, one of which will be at the National Gallery of Modern Art. If you've never encountered Alasdair Gray then reading Lanark is the best way to introduce yourself to the man and his work.

The next 5 novels under discussion are:

Alasdair Gray Lanark (Oct)

James Robertson The Fanatic (Nov)

James Kelman Kieron Smith, boy (Dec)

Suhayl Saadi Psychoraag (Jan)

Ron Butlin The Sound of My Voice (Feb)

P.S. While we're talking exhibitions, there are only two weeks left of The Glasgow Boys (seeThe Boys are Back in Town...) at the Kelvingrove Art Gallery. If you haven't visited, and you can, then I really recommend it. It's one of the greatest collections of Scottish painting that there has ever been, and it may be along time before such an exhibition happens again.

You Have Been Watching...A Shot at Glory

I'm not a great fan of that widely used term 'guilty pleasure'. I think if something gives you pleasure then feeling guilt over it can only cause you problems in the long run, as the history of Scotland has adequately shown. Who cares if you have a soft spot for late 70's American disco, often watch 'antique' TV or enjoy The Chronicles of Riddick of an evening? Whatever gets you through the night, it's alright. However, even though I feel no guilt at enjoying this week's film A Shot at Glory, I'm at least aware that I probably should.

Let me put this into some sort of context. It is not the film alone that I enjoy when I watch it, it's all the things that surround it. Some personal, some shared. For those of you who have never heard of the film I'll give a brief synopsis:

There once was a small football team called Kilnochie. They languished in the lower leagues and had a stadium and following to match. The team is made up mostly of Airdrie and Raith Rovers players of the time (including current managerial darling Owen Coyle, 'keeper 'Mad' John Martin, Andy 'Ears' Smith and 'Slinky' Peter Hetherston). It is managed by Gordon McCloud (played by Robert 'Colonel Kilgore' Duvall) who is forced by his American owner (Michael 'Batman' Keaton) to accept the signing of fading superstar, and ex-Celtic hero, Jackie McQuillan ('Super' Ally McCoist. You're right, it is odd) who also happens to be McCloud's estranged son-in-law whom he despises. They have to win the Scottish Cup or Batman will move the team to Dublin, where they will apparently be made welcome. So the Colonel and Super Ally have to put aside their personal grievances if they are to save Kilnochie.

I have made none of this up, and that is only the half of it. Here's the trailer to prove it:

The storyline is really unimportant, and after the recent heroics of Gretna and Queen of the South in the cup it is more realistic than it seemed at the time of release in 2000. The reasons for my soft spot for the film are quite a few. The year it was being filmed became a surreal one in Scottish football. Pictures of Robert Duvall outside stadiums with various scarves, some less than PC, began to surface. Journalists were falling over themselves trying to get a part in the film, and those who made it include Andy Gray and big Jim Traynor. Referee Hugh Dallas got to play referee 'Hugh Dallas', and Brian Cox was cast as the manager of Glasgow Rangers and plays him as a mix of Walter Smith, Dick Advocaat and Hannibal Lector. Strange days indeed.

Personally speaking, one of my best friends was involved in this film, which meant I was duty bound to be one of four people that saw it in the cinema one evening. It was there for a week before it was gone. Perhaps this lack of interest was not so surprising as the real drama had already been in and around Glasgow the previous year when A Shot at Glory was in production. I will always remember the time that Michael Keaton came into the bar I was working in for a few beers on a quiet Wednesday night, then watching the place slowly fill as word got round that Batman was in the vicinity. Fair play to him, he signed bits of paper and bought the staff a drink. After all the glamour of having Oscar winners and proper movie stars around the place, the film itself became an afterthought.

Be in no doubt, this is not a great movie. It says something that McCoist is perhaps the best thing in it. Duvall's performance is so idiosyncratic that I sometimes can't decide if it is actually brilliant, or as terrible as it appears. I suspect the latter. Keaton seems to be in a different film altogether and the mix of first division footballers and well known Scottish character actors such as Bill Murdoch and Ida Schuster is just surreal, at least to those of us who are fans of both football and film. A Shot at Glory is that age-old underdog against the odds story that we have seen before many times, but if you are a fan of Scottish football and the madness that surrounds it, then this really is a must see.

Sweet Charity...

My attention was recently drawn to a couple of video clips of Lloyd Cole and the Commotions playing Glasgow nightclub Bennets in the late 80s(thanks to LloydCole_Guru for alerting me to them). After a little searching it seems that this was as part of an Aids benefit evening simply called Aids Aid.

Also on the bill were His Latest Flame, the sadly missed Fruits of Passion, headliners Deacon Blue and stand up comedian Bing Hitler (Craig Ferguson before he became the second most famous Scot on US TV). The clips come courtesy of ToadHallStudios whose YouTube page is archived by Alistair Wells. It is a mine of rare 80s and 90s live and video footage of bands both known and forgotten such as The Shamen, The Orchids and Iain Donaldson solo stuff as well as various fashion shows that Toad Hall Studios were involved in.

But for me the most interesting clips are the ones from that night in Bennets. The folk from Toad Hall were the only ones filming the evening, which unfortunately consists of only one camera although the sound is surprisingly good, but even though the recordings are a little rough it is still a great record of the music of the time and what must have been a hell of a night. There are many more clips than I'm going to post here so go to their home page to see the rest.

First of all this is Fruits of Passion, who had one of my favourite singers of the time in Sharon Dunleavy, with Everything I Ever Wanted:

Next up is Lloyd and the Commotions with a great performance of Rattlesnakes:

Finally, here are Deacon Blue with Raintown which once again highlights what a singer Lorraine Macintosh is:

Since these performances were to raise money for such a good cause I think it is only right that I give the address of HIV Scotland (@http://www.hivscotland.com/) where you can donate to a cause that these days is too often forgotten.

Haggis, Weeps and Tati ...

Scottish cinephiles have been waiting for the release of Sylvian Chomet's latest feature The Illusionist ever since it was first rumoured that he was working in Scotland. Coming seven years after the hugely successful Belleville Rendez-vous, The Illusionist was four years in the making and is one of the few animations to be (mostly) set in Scotland. I'm pleased to report that it is a beautiful and gentle film, one to luxuriate in. The pace of the film is rare these days in that it in no way attempts to rush the audience through the simple story and the animation is understated but absolutely gorgeous.

Based on Jaques Tati's never produced script, one that was reportedly written for his daughter Sophie (although there is some debate about this), this film is about life moving forward, the passing of time, expectation and disappointment, and the changing nature of love. The Illusionist is one of those films that becomes more moving the further you get from the cinema. The initial impression is that while it is a lovely piece of animation the story is slight and perhaps lacks emotional content. But the slow build of the film, culminating in the leaving of Scotland, expresses a sense of loss that is not fully realised until you have time to regard what you have seen later. In that sense this a wonderfully subtle film.

The central relationship is between the Illusionist and his 'adopted' ward; a young Gaelic speaking girl who follows him to Edinburgh. Their relationship is never sleazy or untoward, theirs is a familial bond and it reminded me of the similar relationship between the young Mathilda and Jean Reno's hitman in another French film, 1994's Léon. In The Illusionist the girl becomes a surrogate daughter to him, and when she moves her affection to a local lad (who is the spitting image of a young Sean Connery) it is a sign that she is growing up and he must let her go and move on.

There are lots of lovely touches and scenes in the film. The bare bum of the drunk Scot as his kilt is raised by the wind, the Jaques Tati film Mon Oncle playing in the Edinburgh cinema, the scene where the acrobats help to paint the soap poster and the running joke of the reluctant rabbit. As you would expect from this director there is care in every shot, and what is notably remarkable is the lighting that helps give each place visited its own individual character.

This particularly applies to Edinburgh which has rarely looked better. Chomet uses a muted palatte when portraying the capital, and it is one that gives tangible atmosphere and personality to the city. For those who know Edinburgh there are plenty of in jokes and references, and he uses its unusual geography to great success. There is a wonderful sweep over the city near the end of the film that is quite breathtaking. Here is the trailer:

The Illusionist is a throwback to old Disney, and not only in terms of style or animation. It reminds me of that period when Wolfgang Reitherman was directing their animated films, particularly The Aristocats, my favourite Disney film, and One Hundred and One Dalmatians. What sets it apart is that this is an adult film. It was said that the recent Disney/Pixar animation Toy Story 3 brought many parents in the audience to tears as it dealt with the passing of childhood. The Illusionist touches on the same emotions but from the 'parents' point of view. It is ultimately a film of regret, and it is not until you have time to reflect upon it as a whole that you realise that regret is in every frame. Go and see The Illusionist. It may not change your life but it is cinema like they just don't make any more. There is something magic about it and that alone is a reason to buy a ticket.