Delighted to have made the shortlist for this one, being the first poetry competition I’ve entered in a few years. Thanks to Writing Magazine. It will be available to read in a collection called The Crystal Barrel, due for release later this year.
Monday marked the 100th anniversay of the start of the “third battle of Ypres”: Passchendaele. This poem and piece of music is my tribute to all those who died in the trenches. Sent over the top as fodder to the Maschinengewehrs, often packed with amphetamines to quell their terror, some as young as 13 years old, raced and palpitated towards a lonely, painful death in the mud and barbed wire of No Man’s Land.
I remember the atmosphere on the coach heading towards the trenches we were due to visit on the first day of our week-long school trip: laughing, play-fighting, general high spirits. The mood upon our return to the bus was silent shock. No-one spoke to each other: we just filed back on to the bus and sat in our seats in silence until one boy burst into floods of tears. No-one laughed at him because most felt the same way, including myself.
It felt as if some kind of shadow had crept into my young bones or gas into my unsullied lungs. Some of the lungs and hearts were only the same age as ours when they had been stilled by a machine gun round or a cloud of gas. They had ceased to be people: used only as meat. I was horrified then and I’m no less horrified now. Their training, physical condition, intelligence or raw bravery made no difference to their chances of survival once they went over the top. They might as well have been stepping off the edge of the world, launching themselves into a cold, airless vacuum.
I’m not sure if my History teachers intended the trip to have this effect, but I set about learning why these boys had been hurled into a meat grinder in the way that they were. What I discovered has led to a lifelong mistrust of hierarchy, a hatred of propaganda and a yearning for meritocracy and diplomacy. How’s the fight going, you ask? Turn on the TV, read a newspaper or click on social media. Depressing, right? Nodding your head solemnly at remembrance ceremonies doesn’t make you patriotic and is not going to prevent this happening again. I’ve marched in enough remembrance parades at Hamilton Square to realise this. Diplomacy, intelligent research/debate and a refusal to be drawn to our basest instincts would be of much more use. Although, when I posited this to a newspaper editor, he told me that any newspaper selling virtue over scandal would fold within a week.
War is big business. Don’t ever underestimate how cruel humans can be when they are corrupted by money/power. Let’s all keep fighting the warmongers, instead of each other.
When I’m gone and turned to dust,
You’ll still click my link, I trust,
Give us a like or even a love,
I’ll be watching from above,
If creation truly be not a sin,
Maybe my uploads will get me in?
Followers come and followers go,
Like lovers you never really know,
Unless they too have uploaded theirs,
And put in order their affairs,
So that they can also live forever,
By seeding clouds with their endeavour,
Hoping there might come a rain,
To drop them back to earth again,
If only to give a vague idea,
Of what it meant when they were here.
Will doc files cleanse the streets,
And bring on revolution?
Bedroom wavs rock halls of power,
Will jpegs of outstanding worth,
Become like stained-glass,
Worshipped by some hipster,
Still talking out of his arse?
But what happens when,
The wind blows again,
And we all take shelter below?
If we survive,
Will we be deprived,
Of the things that we love and know?
If the cloud blows away,
And the authorities say,
That it was always our decision,
We submitted and signed,
We’ll become deaf and blind,
Under a deluge of derision,
Incision and division bells,
Silencing the voices,
That scream against the toughened glass,
Of gilted Rolls-Royces.
Christmas lights are going up, along with burglary rates, energy bills and collective blood pressure. It must be that magical time of year again, so let’s celebrate with a list of festive films for the broken idealists among us who need their fix of sarcasm and cynicism to keep them going over the following month.
80s nostalgia seems to be a thing at the moment and although Stranger Things was more comprehensive in its fanboy-like homages, Krampus does it with delicious dark humour, strong performances from the cast, snappy dialogue and a creepy take on the Christmas redemption story, which all makes for a fun ride for adults wishing to relive the excitement of watching Gremlins for the first time, or for older kids who still want to believe in Father Christmas. Special mention must go to the delightful animation sequence in which the grandmother flashes back to post-war Germany to explain her connection to St. Nicholas’ malevolent counterpart.
Something of a spiritual predecessor to Bad Santa and a truly 80s New York take on Dickens, this films sees the brilliant Bill Murray on fine form, dishing out sarcasm and meanness as a dastardly TV company exec. The sentimentality is offset by surprisingly dark and imaginative dimension-hopping sequences with the ghosts, all of which are met at first by an unimpressed, sardonic Murray, who soon finds himself forced to alter his outlook, as Scrooge does in A Christmas Carol. Karen Allen puts in a wonderful performance as Murray’s old girlfriend, whose love and generous nature helps to bring him in from the cold, while the family scenes of Christmas possess an air of warmth and authenticity that will pull at even the most rusty heartstrings.
In Bruges (2008)
Debatable as to whether it’s a true Christmas film, but there are myriad aspects of Michael McDonagh’s 2008 masterpiece in which to revel as a seeker of dark festive fayre. Let’s start with the performances from the cast. Previous to watching this film, I disliked Colin Farrell quite unfairly on account of a most untrustworthy upper lip and a dastardly set of eyebrows. I didn’t like the way they moved. However, his portrayal of a bungling, guilt-ridden hitman in this film was enough to win me over and I’ve enjoyed his work ever since (even if the eyebrows get a bit hammy now and again). Given the perfect foil in Brendan Gleeson’s character, a seasoned veteran of the same dirty game, the two set the screen alight with their chemistry and along with the haunting, atonal piano soundtrack and “fairytale” scenery of Bruges, keep our attention and build our sympathies until Ralph Fiennes shows up and steals the show briefly with his pantomime, psychopathic gangster, Harry. When Harry turns up in Bruges, the film accelerates into action thriller territory and we are rewarded with an electrifying chase through the cobbled streets until the rather brutal climax. Sacrifice, redemption and forgiveness are all themes explored by the film, but what sets it apart is a curious, subtle acknowledgement of the cycle of life and the sanctity of family. By their nature, existentialists are usually rather miserable, but here they will find enough mischievous musings on the void to raise a wry smile at the very least.
Cosy, friendly, small American town subverted by a plague of creatures can only be saved by small town boy and his girl. Sounds like a B-movie plot? That’s because it is, but it is executed with such flair by cast and crew that we couldn’t help but be beguiled and terrified by it back in the 80s. The microwave and the blender death scenes were legendary amongst schoolkids because of the parental disgust factor. Subversion is a vital ingredient in nearly every film in this list and the Gremlins symbolise that perfectly: grimy green, fanged, homicidal reptilians that reproduce asexually and were considered to be the cause of mechanical failures in aeroplanes during World War Two, according to the legend recounted by the memorable Dick Miller as Murray Futterman. If people really do crave the catharsis of the utter chaos and destruction of Christmas in their viewing material, then Gremlins is the one, even taking down a department store in the proceedings. The more politically-inclined amongst you might be able to divine some symbolic meaning from this, but for me, comparing gremlins to Communists might be a bridge too far. Maybe Anarchists …?
The Ref (known as Hostile Hostages in UK) (1994)
Motormouth comedian Denis Leary goes into sarcasm overload in this black comedy following the events of a failed burglary on Christmas Eve, once again in a snow-covered, small American town. It’s a smarter, more highbrow take on the Christmas crime capers we know and love, largely thanks to a good script, Leary’s comedic timing and Kevin Spacey’s double act with Judy Davis as his neurotic, unfaithful wife. It is remarkable how similar Spacey’s character is to the now-legendary Lester Burnham character he portrayed in American Beauty, but to neither film’s detriment. Quite the opposite, in fact. As I mentioned earlier, subversion is key to the functioning of most of these films and here, it takes the typically John Hughesian house from Home Alone and delivers the criminal into the midst of a family that’s corroding under the emptiness of modern life, even though ostensibly, they have everything we found so seductive in those onscreen mansions. A delightfully mischievous and sardonic romp, especially fun if you like Denis Leary.
Planes, Trains and Automobiles (1987)
Technically set during Thanksgiving, but we don’t get that here in the UK for obvious reasons, so I think most us Brits just pretend that it’s set at Christmas so as not to confuse ourselves. Steve Martin and John Candy are the prudish businessman and free-wheeling shower ring salesman who are thrust together by fate to get home for Thanksgiving. It isn’t long before Martin’s stiff upper lip is wobbled by Candy’s incessant small-talk and oafish mannerisms and John Hughes begins really pitting them against each other in a series of set pieces, which will keep you laughing until the twist, carrying the emotional punch we have come to know to be typical of Hughes. Themes of tolerance, compassion and co-operation underpin the spiritual message of the film, which serves as a helpful reminder to us all, come Christmas Dinner.
Bad Santa (2003)
Billy Bob Thornton explores the depths of the human condition whilst dressed in a Santa outfit, but it’s Bernie Mac and John Ritter who provide most of the laughs: Ritter need only react with a facial expression to keep us giggling with his sublime, understated performance, while Mac delivers his dialogue with such ferocity and cadence, that we can’t help but wait for the next vicious insult or epithet with bated breath. Many would tell you that the crucible for this story is the department store, but the real pickle in which Billy Bob’s character Willy finds himself is human relationships, from which he has distanced himself to the point of developing an anti-social personality disorder. Will the Christmas spirit help Willy rediscover his humanity?
Trapped in Paradise (1994)
One of Nicholas Cage’s less celebrated films, which has always taken a critical beating – probably not unfairly, to some degree. However, if you need a film that will not tax the old grey matter too much and provide some cheeky laughs, you could do a lot worse. Although the humour is brash and crude in places, the message is uplifting and the cosy, small-town atmosphere evoked by director George Gallo is most seductive. Nicholas Cage is over the top as always (would we have him any other way?), but thankfully, there are no bees or wicker men involved here, and his style is well complimented by the Stooge-like Dana Carvey and Jon “who, me?” Lovitz. The show is admirably stolen by their foul-mouthed mother, played by Florence Stanley, who torments her meathead, no-necked kidnappers to tears.
If you’re in the market for a dark Christmas story you’ve not heard before, try my take: A Smaller Hell my first novel, which I will be making a FREE Christmas gift for everyone to download from Amazon 5th-10th December. Based on my own experiences of working in a department store, it follows the story of a disillusioned man who doesn’t realise that he is being pulled into a dangerous game by his new boss – a game that will change his life forever, come the night of the Christmas party.
A Smaller Hell
A Christmas Brit Grit Black Comedy set in the department store of a dying coastal town where nothing is as it first seems.
US readers: click here
UK readers: click here
Black Comedy following the misadventures of Patrick, a sound engineer who discovers that the only way he can relieve his crippling tinnitus is by taking revenge on obnoxious musicians.
US readers: click here
UK readers: click here
Grey Noise: Goldtooth
The sequel to Grey Noise, this follows Patrick further into the underworld as he becomes involved with a local crime family.
US readers: click here
UK readers: click here
An experiment in combining poetry, music and film: three things by which I have been besotted since I first experienced them. I’m no film-maker, but editing these public domain clips into something that vaguely makes sense was really satisfying, somehow. I’m used to working with words and music, mostly, but working with the visual felt amazing. All three combined might be a bit like having all your favourite food on one plate: individually they taste good, but mashed together not so much, which is why I’m emphasising that this is only an experiment. The soundtrack is fairly ambient with bluesy lap steel over the top. I’ve been learning how to play that for a while, which has been great fun and has opened up some new musical horizons for me.
As far as the subject matter goes, it’s a little bit patriotic and it’s a little bit existential. Best if you find your own interpretation.
Any feedback is welcome, good or bad. Hope you get something out of it.