Right. Hmm.

Having one of those weeks. Everything I'm working on is embroiled in chaos and speed, which I dislike immensely. Probably because I'm not in control of any of my projects in the production end I'm used to, and that's grating. Hey ho.

Interview tomorrow, number two stage. Fingers crossed.

That's it from me, probably for the rest of the week. 2am starts are hard. Writing anything sensible afterwards is harder still...

Unlikely but true

I've just been to the premier of a Richard Curtis movie.

Busy week, so I'll fill this in better later in the week with a couple of proper rants once I actually have some free time. 4am start, so need the rest...

Eek eek eek

Sorry. Total fail to update this blog, due to the most insane hours ever.

Saturday - Right now, I genuinely can't remember.

Sunday - got briefing for new bout of freelance work. Went for coffee with Mike's flatmate Dave and our friend Tim, who are writing a musical together. Did a bunch of work. Tried to sleep early for the next day. Failed.

Monday - 2am start to oversee rig after no sleep the night before. The day finally ended 8pm. I got to bed, though, at 11pm, due to completing some work stuff I was unable to do during the day. I did not sleep.

Tuesday - awoke with migraine. This is due to Friday's late night thanks to insane, noisy, partying, wailing-in-grief next door neighbours, Saturday's fretful sleep, and Sunday's total lack due to early start. Took major painkillers, set off to organise my employer's storage shed for the project I am currently working on. Not fun when, despite dropping the pain, the pills can't remove the symptoms. Try organising large equipment, not to say lifting it, with tunnel vision, back on fire and slurred speech. Joy. Day ends 8pm. Then at 10pm discover iPod Touch is missing. Much searching in flat and road yeilds nowt. Get colleague to check van, it's not there. Convinced I've stupidly dropped it in road and it's nicked. Speak to Mike, who scrambles through my migraine brain and helps me remember I did jump out the van before getting home. Order taxi for round trip, offering massive tip if it's there. (It is my PDA after all, basically) Go through gates, rummage with torch, it's not there. About to give up, tunr around, and spot something black on the floor - heart in mouth walk over, it's my iPod face down. Tentatively piack it up, hoping.... and it's fine. Not even scratched. Luckiest moment of my life, taxi driver gets tip, thank you universe. Get to bed 11pm.

Wednesday - 2am start, finishing 8.30pm. Go to Mike's for sleep.

Thursday - PUPPETS. 3pm, get too tired to move, head home, make quick calls, fall asleep at 5pm. Now forcing self back to sleep.

Proper blog will resume shortly.

GIVE

Today I have noticed that there are an awful lot of posts out there relating to hiring interns for event roles. More than I've ever seen before. Is this some kind of sea change? Anyhoo...

Going to be busy today, so all I have to say is this: please give whatever you can afford today for Comic Relief. We're all tight for cash at the moment, but if you think you can do without that £3 DVD, or £4 carton of ice cream, or whatever your small little luxury spend may be for the week for just this once, then please hand over that cash to the charity that supports those for whom the 'credit crisis' is nothing more than some phrase overheard from passing cameramen in jeeps.

You can have a giggle and give via the twitter route thanks to Peter Serafinovicz

Or you can stroll into your nearest TK Maxx and grab a t-shirt, or Sainsbury's for red noses and other 'gear' should you want something tangible.

Or you can donate via the website http://rednoseday.com/

Or you can stay up tonight and watch the whole thing beginning to end on BBC1, and call the phonelines to make your contribution.

Have a lovely day. And my favourite joke (with apologies to Alan Davies, who tells it best):

Two bee keepers are chatting, and the first asks, "How many bees have you got?"
The second replies, "I've got 10,000 bees.”
"How many hives have you got?"
"I've got 20 hives"
The first says “20 hives; 10,000 bees?"
The second replies "Yeah, that's right. How may bees have you got?"
The first says, “I've got a million bees.”
“A million bees?!" Cries the second.
"Yeah." Says the first.
Gasping, the second asks, "How many hives have you got?"
"One."

"A million bees - one hive?”

"Yeah, f**k 'em; they're only bees.”

Wowser

I do love TED. This one is just awesome.

Patti Maes - Sixth Sense

No need to say anything more.

Back

Apologies for lack of posts - on Monday night, I did something a bit nasty to the muscle under my left shoulderblade. Tuesday I had some bits to finish and I'd promised to help a friend make her wedding favours in the afternoon. Once this was done, I got the train to Mike's and began to be aware that the nasty ache had become a sharp pain - by the time I arrived, I was really feeling it.

Waking Tuesday morning, I literally couldn't move or pick things up with the left arm. Shifting slightly to the left meant I screamed involuntarily, breathing itself was excruciating. I was in complete agony. Fortunately, I happened to have a physio appointment anyway, and she was kind enough to completely bail on the usual session to attack this particular problem. After seeing me cry after each mini-massage, she went off and came back with heavy surgical tape, and effectively gaffa'd my back into position so I couldn't do worse to it.

This morning I am again able to move, but can feel it pulling away on my deeper breaths and larger movements, but at least the complete agony has subsided. Last night I actually had to be maneuvered into position by Mike in order to sleep on my side...

Still, kudos to the boyfriend for his infinite patience and big, strong manliness, and also for cooking me dinner. Also thanks to m flatmate for kindly doing the washing up when I wasn't able to even pick up a fork without supporting it with the other arm, like an old woman.

Normal service resumes shortly. Until then, have this - I have begun to really dislike Ricky Gervais, but completely LOVE Elmo's puppeteer in this short video. Bring back Muppets Tonight, overlords.

VIDEO

Monday

Purely out of curiosity, why has so much of my last two weeks been spent spotting problems with other people's websites? And being terribly nice about it, even when it's possibly to the detriment of my reputation by calling and pointing out they have messed up...

Still, have completed two job applications so far today, so fingers crossed. There's been no joy on the freelancing end, so guess I'll just keep on keeping on...

Watchmen - movie

As promised.

First of all, the opening gambit and credit sequence. If you're not sure what you're in for, these two things will lay it down for you, setting both the tone and the approach.

The first scene, likely to be remembered for a loooong time, is pretty much exactly as envisioned in the original comic. It's dark, violent, beautifully shot and often quite shocking. The audience, if the weren't cheering, were gasping or wincing, and I often found myself involuntarily squinting. An awful lot of glass gets broken (but then it looks great), and there's a lot more to say, but I don't really want to spoil it for anyone unfamiliar with the comic (and really, if this describes you, go and read it now, you won't ever regret it) or who hasn't seen it yet - suffice to say, they really, really nailed it.

And then, if that's not enough, Snyder does something with the opening credit sequence which is nothing short of genius.

With so much of the comic consisting of back-story in the format of press cuttings, autobiography excerpts, psych files etc, how do you cover off the basics of this alternate world without being bogged down with exposition? The answer is so simple you wonder how anyone ever bothered not to do it before. Consisting of only a select few images shot in a bullet-time-style shot but very slo-mo, a scene is introduced setting the time and attitude of the period, whilst sketching a history for the audience. These include: Sally Jupiter smiles for some press men on the steps of the court; the Comedian grins whilst chomping a cigar as his prisoner fires his gun; the orginal Minutemen photo being taken; the famous TIME cover of the V-day celebrations is neatly subverted with the Silhouette kissing the nurse as the expected sailor walks by. There's even a witty Last Supper reference. All very jolly. But then we see Mothman being taken by the men in white coats. And this signals the beginning of the mood change. The crime scene pictures being taken of Silhouette and her lover. A quick and scintillating look at Rorchach's home life. Dr Manhattan meeting JFK. I won't spoil the next bit, but it's a cute wink and lays down implications for how this reality and one particular character works. Sally Jupiter argues with her husband/manager as her daughter looks on. Bodies in the street are found with a scrap of paper marked with a strange symbol. We're shown Moscow proudly displaying its nuclear might, as hippies place flowers in guns that promptly go off once the flower is placed. There's Warhol and Truman discussing the costumed heroes at the factory, Dr Manhattan assisting the moon landing, Ozymandius at Studio 54, and Nite Owl setting up the new Minutemen photo. And then we're shown that Nixon has a third term, as riots hot the streets against the Watchmen, and in a huge explosion the movie can begin in earnest. Over the top of this has been a constant set of bold yellow letters which cast their own shadow in the scene they play over, which are meant to be the credits themselves but end up as mere accessories ot the shadow that's been played.

And, of course, what you're seeing isn't all of the story. Yes, for an uninitiated audience member, this is a perfect way to introduce the back story needed to understand what they're about to see. But what's actually happening is a lovingly crafted paean to the rich tapestry of the graphic novel itself, with added in-jokes and neat ideas, some images brought to life from stills in the original, others pure whimsy but which communicate more. It's unbelievably geeky and incredibly cheering all at once, but with the added bonus of being practical with it. No cack-handed exposition crap with a new character to ask the audience's questions - instead, a neat, witty run-through, beautifully and faithfully shot, bringing everyone up to speed with anything majorly outstanding covered off during the movie.

Which neatly leads to the movie. I really don't want to say too much here, but I was very pleased to learn that there were several scenes Snyder didn't want to lose and stood his ground over.

However, this does lead to the problem. Much like 300, it's, and I hate to say it, almost too faithful. That opening scene simply had to sit true, that's understood. But the real sparks of brilliance are those opening credits, where liberties with the structure are taken and we're shown something exhilarating and fresh. And yes, the ending is slightly different, and erases a big structural problem in bringing it to the screen,a nd is perhaps a lot neater then the book. Around those, it's a carbon copy, stunningly executed visually, but just a little soulless. But with all the winces and violence, and I'll get back to this I promise, it is still a darn sight better than a majority of the tosh that gets funded. So, stop for a moment, those of us with true love for the comic, and just allow yourself to think, shuddering as you do, what Hollywood could have done to this. League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, anyone?

Performances, then. The very best go to, fortunately for this film, my two favourite characters from the graphic novel.

Dan Dreiberg - Yes, I love Rorschach, but for some reason I always favoured Nite Owl that little bit more. His sense of failure and vulnerability along with sarcasm and intelligence just set the edge over Ol' Crazy Bastard, and I really had no idea who or how they would cast this. Patrick Wilson. Huh? But he's, like, buff. Although very creepy and convincing in Hard Candy. It's a bit left field, but ok. I went along. Dan's a guy who let himself get 'comfortable', being a little more chisled in his youth. I can run with Wilson, I guess. And I genuinely didn't recognise him. In fact, I forgot it was him altogether. Physically, the extra couple of stone helped, but really, I don't think anyone could've done that better. I can't remember if it was during the scene or on the way home, but Mike was very keen to point out that unlike some other cast members, he really was acting. Not in an obvious way, but the conflict on his face in the first sex scene particularly showed it wasn't just a De Niro-style 'weigh my acting chops by how I'll physically change' gambit. He was good. So good, I'm about to rent Little Children and Hard Candy again, just to check his whole acting lark isn't a fluke of one movie.

Rorschach - I'd never heard of Jackie Earle Hayley. I have now. When this was first announced, most internet boards cried 'who he?', and concerns were raised. The crazy fools, no need to worry. In the mask, his movements are careful, monitored, quick. Once disrobed, whilst he moves the same, he is broken, crazy, perfectly deadpan yet witty and everyone is behind him, even more once we hear his story. I can't think of anyone who could have played him better. I'm glad no-one else tried.

Together, their scenes are touching, funny and brilliant, and make you wish for more.

And the rest.

Comedian -

Laurie - Malin Akerman looks stunning. And can do fight scenes. And looks stunning in latex also. Um. See, Laurie's a complicated character in some respects, but not terribly interesting. She's understandably brattish, and I always saw her as a bit of a pricktease, but again, understandable. But whilst Akerman does a great line in looking sultry, that's sort of it. Which is a damn shame as there's more to give, but as she looks the part, I don't suppose anyone will mind much.

Ozymandias - hm. When I heard it was Matthew Goode, I was concerned. I'd seen him in The Lookout, where he was unrecognisable and very good. I'd seen him in other stuff, where he tended to be fragile and earnest. I'm guessing Snyder was hoping to eke out some of the Lookout's brutal and mix it with earnest, but he ended up with a chap who looked as if he's part-timing between his Watchmen and Brideshead Revisted projects. I do not buy this as either the world's most intelligent man, or the greatest physical specimen of peak fitness. Nor do I buy him as the world's most charming bachelor mogul. (Though the audience loved the small gag on the floppy disk file names). No, he's just not strong enough, authoritative enough, charming enough or, frankly, American enough. Physically, you need a young Nick Nolte crossed with Paul Newman, and the authority of, well, Newman again, or possibly Brian Cox. Goode is good in other parts, but simply doesn't have the presence. There aren't many young actors out there capable. I kind of half-wish they'd managed to arrange Patrick Wilson in this role too... I'm now thinking Nathan Fillion on steroids. But this might just be my brain.

Dr Manhattan - First things first. A blue, CGI penis. Somewhere out there is a man, or woman (though let's be honest, it probably had to be a man on this one), in the world who had to calculate the physics for a freewheeling blue penis. As you do. I once had to spend two days dropping mic packs down Fearne Cotton's knickers. There are some strange jobs out there. That aside, it's... odd. Whilst his body moves right, his face, particularly his mouth, don't quite work. I remember messing around with a 3d programme at uni, and if you bent certain corners of the character face, it almost turned inside-out. And that seems to be what his mouth is on the cusp of constantly doing. It's distracting and irritating, and then infuriating following a line from Veidt towards the end of the movie. "Oh, you could, Mr Cleverpants? That's clever, 'coz from here it looked like he'd just had dental work, they'd hit the nerve and caused parasthesia." When he's not shiny and blue, Crudup's very good. But his speech on Mars isn't quite the same and ends up sounding cheesy rather than inspirational, and coming from a mouth about to sue his dental care plan, it doesn't quite sit right.
Going back to the penis, Mike felt compelled to point out it was too heavily weighted at the end and was being knocked around like a pull-cord end. So there, penis physics man.

I'll complete and edit this later. Bedtime.

Weekend slow cheer

So after beginning the Watchmen evening post below, I got a little down and a bit navel-gazey. After a bit of a cathartic cry over a pretty shoddy year so far in financial terms, Mike dragged me over to his and made me lie down. We watched The Burning (which is interesting in a historical sense as one of the first kids-in-the-woods slasher, but is totally bloody terrible - making it funny). Still not sleepy, we put Tron on as we'd just watched the Tron 2, or "TR2N", trailer, which I think looks bloody ace. From a prettiness point of view. I can't see a plot yet. Not that the original had one. Mike pointed out the Mickey-Mouse-sea so my geek credentials have been increased further.

Saturday, we got up, headed to the station, grabbed a hot mulled apple and a proper spanish chorizo egg tortilla for breakfast and made our way to Greenwich. Very tasty indeed. We dawdled around the market and shops for a few hours, had lunch, went to Staples for supplies then Tesco for more. We got back, made dinner, fancied pudding, and Mike just happened to know how to created sticky toffee pudding out of thin air and a microwave. Awesome. Then Muppets Tonight and to bed.

Today is Sunday, and so far we've had poached eggs and salmon, and I'm filling in forms whilst he edits footage from a play he directed.

All in all, a nicely distracting weekend from what was a pretty awful Friday afternoon. The sun is streaming in through the window, there is leftover pudding and fresh bagels on the side for lunch. I'm making courgette and Boursin cheat-soup for dinner, and all is right with the world, for today at least. Hooray.

WATCHMEN

I'll do the actual movie bit later.

Last night, I went to a private screening of the Watchmen movie organised by the same chaps who do Secret Cinema. It was billed as an interactive experience, something like theatre. I almost agree. It was more like theatre crossed with experiential marketing.

I got oddly lucky. After the single most annoying pre-event wrangling to get the times of stuff from various parties, I arrive at the SEOne club in London Bridge at about half five. There were plenty of folks with walkie talkies, and lots of "move that van NOW", but nobody else. So I leaned against the wall in an appropriate spot, and then was asked if I needed a ticket. Quite by chance, I found myself at the head of the queue. Literally. Mike joined me about 20mins later, feeling terrible as he strolled past the other 600 people to reach his girlfriend at the very front.

They'd taken over the tunnel on Weston Street, but not arranged to close the road. This was a bad idea, really. It's not a busy street, but it is a taxi and white van cut-through, and they're not the most famously patient sets of drivers in the world. Holding the street up whilst you park a wrecked Lexus for grafitti-ing and preventing a lorry from getting down with your US-style beacon tow-truck? Not wise. Particularly not when the only thing between the lorry and the general public are the hoarding barriers, which the lorry driver has no qualms about ploughing into... Also, not sure of the wiseness of placing a bollard opposite a road narrowing bit. I'm sure it fed some purpose, but mainly it slowed any passing traffic to a standstill whilst it tried to negotiate the lorry, the hoarding, the cone and the performers running around. This somewhat made a sham of the hired vehicles that were meant to drive around the block again and again, who just got stuck in their own traffic a lot.

Anyhoo, as I said, they'd taken the whole street over. A small archway entrance had a 'live sex show' theme, with lingerie-clad girls calling to the queueing guests. A mocked-up Mason's garage entrance had tardis-like abilities to spout car after car, 50s tow trucks to modern (not 80s, I think) NY police cars. A group of protestors held signs against costumed adventurers, the End is Nigh sign held by a later-'arrested' Rorschach. A tiny little woman in a blue suit played a news reporter for CNN, yelping at performers and guests alike with her hilariously poorly executed cardboard mic-ident. I've added some shoddy pictures from my phone, but only to vaguely illustrate - better pictures will be on flickr if you care to look.

A little later, various other bits happened - a Comedian arrived on an armoured vehicle wearing a paper and sticky-tape smiley face badge. Oops. Some poor sod painted blue and wearing a blue net jockstrap walked through the freezing tunnel trying to look aloof and mystical, but mainly looked short. The costumed Rorschachs (and they actually wisely had a few of these so with the queue length everyone could see one) stood around appropriately suspiciously, but mutters from the crowd of 'they're far too tall' were heard often. They were all at least 5'10" if not massively taller, which seemed to annoy a lot of people, especially after Dr Manhattan arrived in his diddyness of height and underwear. Ozymandius arrived in a shockingly bad costume, and was also incredibly short. Being 5'2" myself, no objections, though again the muttering of purists continued on behind me. After some other flurries of movement, such as newpaper sellers, kids on skateboards, press men running around, more graffiti around, police arresting etc. the doors opened and Mike and myself walked in to see what other bits were within.

Oh crap, I early forgot the single most exciting thing of the evening. One of the guests to arrive was in a perfectly normal blacked-glass hire car. For a minute, I thought it was a particularly stubborn taxi driver wishing to lodge a complaint about the traffic. Instead, it held Dave Gibbons. I stood that close to him. That being about a foot away. Mike and the chap behind us were veritably splurging with joy. And he seemed very gracious and appropriately confused by the fuss and nonsense. Hurrah. Join the club Dave.

So, inside. Being under railway bridges, this consisted of several bricked tunnels leading from one into another, all painted black. Immediately on the left was a small gallery of some working sketches of the characters, including Rorschach's funky Disco Stu jumpsuit of the face fabric. Good call on losing that. On the right (shown here consusingly on the left in very poor quality) was a prison cell containing the too-tall but yes, ginger, Walter Kovacs, with matching decapitated hands at the cell doors.

Opposite was a bald fat bloke in a dressing gown on a chalk outline, who I think was meant to be the Comedian. Except he was just a fat bloke. Similarities ended on the dressing gown and being dead. Still, the set was nice, from the street corner with the news kiosk to the TV shop bit with cops strolling past. And they'd gone all-out with the neon, which, I have to say, played.

Beyone that was the Comedian's apartment, with him on a reclining lounger watching the tv. There was also one of those intereactive touch screens, with a nice added 3d projection bit behind it, so as you played, things got more exciting as the counter on the right clocked up the field quota. Ah, you know what I mean. Osterman's death bit.

Just past this was a little section marked 'LIVE SEX SHOW GIRLS GIRLS GIRLS' which of course Mike had a wander into. I didn't, for the same reason I find it hard to go to gigs and especially hard to dance around - I just feel all the embarrassment on behalf of those who don't feel it, and a bunch of scantily-clad girls calling come-ons to my boyfriend just makes me cringe. Somehow, I have managed to convert inexplicably-inherited Mother's-lapsed-Catholic guilt into social embarrassment over anything where someone is being more brave than I'd be. I don't get it, but hey ho, they all seemed to be having a good time, and Mike came out with a big smile on his face. But not too big. The area itself was nicely done, with varying qualities of bottoms on display (it was quite a talking point between Mike and I later, but we'd both sound bitchy covering it here, so suffice to say there was one that perhaps should've been a little more discretely displayed...) and again, lots of neon.

Beyond this, there was a 'lab', with the poor little blue sod and a bloke in a lab coat fiddling with buttons. Not much more to say about it except for the LED floor chasers which are often a shorthand for 'ooh, futuristic'. Except it's the 80s. Go figure.

Opposite this was a very nicely put together Nite Owl's study, where a bloke in possibly the most unfortunate Nite Owl suit I've ever seen (truly, even in the low light, shockingly bad - they might've been better off going with the Dan persona) stood chatting to the 2nd Silk Spectre, whose costume was so infinitely better it caused Mike to stop and stare and have to be dragged off after it started to get a bit embarrassing. And creepy.

At the end of this room was the DJ stage (which would later become the punk band stage), and he won favours by playing quite a mixed set including possibly my favourite track of all time, Gut Feeling by Devo. Good for him.

Going into the last room before the screening room, they had created the Gunga Diner. Painted red and with a giant Sally Jupiter painted on the wall, they had made space for a checkerboard dancefloor where the 1940s Minutemen danced with other jiving girls and boys as an appropriate band played on. Hot dogs and popcorn were available, and I quickly redeemed my playing chips for a free drink of mystery origin. Realising that there was a subtle queue forming towards the viewing room, Mike and I sidled up ready to take position when the doors opened. Oddly, when the finally did, everyone did that weird thing where they suddenly filed to the back. Admittedly the screen was a bit high for comfort, but I much prefer being near the front, so we took our place in the third row and awaited the 'special guest'. Which, of course, was Dave Gibbons, somehow looking even more mystified as he appeared between four Rorschachs. After a quick 'I never expected this, but enjoy the movie' to thunderous applause, we waited for him to finish this same speech in the VIP room next door before simultaneous screenings began.

And then: ooh. But I'll get to that in another post.

Afterwards, reaslising my total exhaustion and terrible neckache from craning slightly up to view the screen, Mike and I wandered home again. Looking back, it was quite an interesting experience, and certainly different, and a fair whack of effort had gone in, but oddly the bits that worked best were when a bit of liberty had been taken. Some of it was, frankly, cringing (I'm looking at you, Nite Owl suit), but some of it was pretty good (the diner and the torn posters outside especially). Doing what I do for a living, I was picking apart bits by the seams and spotting logistics issues (ice trucks arriving before the show and blocking the road - ice being a basic for any licensed event, that should've happened a little better), and also mentally cueing when I'd bring some elements in and clocking missed opportunities. Which made it a bit of a busman's holiday, but was definitely good practice. And I did enjoy myself, as did Mike.

So there you go. There are now pictures up on flickr of the whole event, including a fuzzy one of Mike and I in the audience, but we're there, sure enough.

Next time, the movie itself...

Pettiness

Before I get onto my main subject in a different post for the day, I just need to say this.

As a kid and a teenager, and even a student, I was a pretty messy bod. When living with my ex, I was much the same. When we broke up, I briefly lived with my parents, and was also a slob. But when I got m own quarters again in a shared flat, something changed. I was entirely responsible for my own space, and I like to keep it tidy. Bit of a shock to most people who've known me a long time, but I'm now a bit of a neat freak.

I also like the kitchen to be tidy, but I hate rotas. I prefer a system where you just do it when you figure it's your turn. Things don't usually get bad as the system functions well, seeing as if you haven't done the washing up in a while, you can instead mop the floor, hoover, clean the bathroom etc. Everyone's balanced and happy. Personally, I hate hoovering. But I find cleaning bathrooms oddly satisfactory. All is well. Usually.

I love my flatmates to bits. But lately one has been a bit down and quite ill, and is living off of sausages and chips. Fair enough. But sheesh, just the words 'I'm really sorry I haven't done much lately, when I'm feeling better I'll muck right in' would fix everything. But every single kitchen and dining has been used. It's a huge pile I've just come back to. I did the washing up twice on Wednesday. I even cracked and mopped the kitchen floor, something said housemate has been swearing blind he'd do for a fortnight. And I can't see myself making lunch when there's no plates, pans, cutlery or anything. So I'm back to doing the washing up, again. Or else I can't physically EAT.

I feel like a right bitch, but christ, this has started getting to me.

Moore Disappointment (badum-tish)

Last night, there was an 'event' on the Thames. According to reports:

This dramatic, one-off spectacle will be created using the world’s biggest water screen projector. The water screen, moored especially for this occasion in the middle of the Thames between the London Eye and The Shell Building, will create an enormous vertical screen of water that will extend to 72 feet in height and 100 feet across. Specially created, never to be seen again Watchmen footage, will be projected onto the screen to showcase Dr Manhattan’s translucent and shimmering form in dramatic and gigantic effect – this really will be an excellent and exciting medium to see Dr Manhattan in all his super human glory; and to watch him hover over the city in true Watchmen style!
IESB

But oh dear. I kind of figured this bit would happen.

I have some small experience of water and smoke projection, and I've got to say, it only ever looks good at close quarters. Otherwise, it's sort of wobbly and lame. It also appears to have been a static image. BAD IDEA. When projecting on water or smoke, particularly at long-distance viewing, it is so much more impressive to go with a moving image - you're at least giving the brain a chance to make stuff up in what it sees. However, admittedly that tends to fall flat on its arse if its windy at all. Have a look at this lovely link from IESB:

IESB Watchmen Thames coverage

One rather big problem is blue. Not a great colour for this sort of projection, as it fuzzes out an awful lot. Check out the crispness of the smiley badge compared to the Dr Manhattan image.

Everyone I know who saw it, and even those I don't know but have spoken to via the wonders of the interbobby, agree if was something of a damp squib. They waited in the cold. A boat sprayed up some water. Some blue light hit it. It stopped. Oh.

See, a few years ago I was freelancing at a company responsible for one of the big marketing activities for the Fantastic Four: Silver Surfer movie. They took the London Eye, placed a pretty darn big image of the Surfer in the centre, and let it spin. It looked pretty good, though looking at it you wish it was a bit bigger (though if I recall, it couldn't be due to H&S issues).

Silver Surfer

He rather spiffingly span as the wheel rotated. Neat idea. Niceley done. Here are some more shots of it:

Close Further Further away still Gosh

Same bit of town, same bit of river. Acheived with much less disappointment.

What might have been more effective visually for this Watchmen activity would have been to gauze the Eye and use a hugely strong projector on that to show Dr Manhattan's image. Or even guerilla it up the Thames, projecting him appearing, disappearing and reappearing on different sizes and types of buildings. Bigger coverage of area, too. He'd've been nice on a Tate chimney.

I guess the frustrating part is I'm really excited about the film, and this activity really let itself down. I'm a huge fan of the comic, and desperately hope that whilst keeping faithful to the look in spectacularly anal fashion, they will still have retained its soul in the film. This event didn't deliver. However, I'm going to the Future Cinema thing tonight, where there will be live-action events and activities, then a showing of the film followed by a punk band (? I guess it's on theme for the 80s at a stretch..). I'm sure that on a more intimate scale and with a smaller overall budget, this will end up being much more impressive. However, I'm not sure how much fun it will be to see some poor sod painted blue. It's cold out.

Will let you know how it is on both counts. There will be waiting in the cold on this one too, sadly.

EDIT: Forgot to show you this. Best over-hyping by a presenter ever: ITN
And here are the Daily Telegraph guys standing in EXACTLY the right spot for it to look good. Hence everyone else's massive disappointment. Telegraph Incidentally, they mention 'specially created footage' which no photos have shown. Hmm. Also, looks like the guys on the boat gave up and did the honorable thing by projecting on a building so others could see...!
Oh, and this: ha

Flumph

Last night I spent some time getting the projector to work off of my laptop for tonight's movie club with some friends. It took a bit longer than expected, to be honest, but it's all done now. So this evening there will be a showing of The Killer Shrews, followed by Leprechaun in Da Hood. It's more of a bad-movie club tonight, you see...

Anyway, as a result, I don't have many hours in today to be doing frivolous things like writing this blog. Which is a real shame, because I have a proper good rant in me. Oh well. Off to grab a new toothbrush and a list of shopping, including sponges and rubber gloves so I can do the washing up. Joy. Laters.

Head down

A night of incredibly odd dreams, including developing a new traveller concept for Eurostar where you're put in tiny, two person cabins with enough space for the two chairs and an entertainment screen and that's it, with a service window where the crew pass through your meal before you are allocated a leg-stretch break and then return to your cabin for the remainder of the journey.

Anyway, been cracking on all morning and am just beginnin to get my head around a few problems. Would still really appreciate some paid work, mind. Can't operate on wits forever.

So not much from me today. Sorry.

Update

Sunday was more of the same. Just so it's known.

Today I've had the sort of news that would normally depress me enormously, but has perversely cheered me up. I won't go into details, but suffice to say an extremely unhelpful person whose job was to, well, help me, is no longer someone I have to deal with. I think I'm slightly pleased because this person on occasion got a bit personal with me, and not in an interactive, helpful way. I mean they were rude.

It's generally an awful thing to think in this current climate, but one thing I think we're all allowed to get behind is that those who put us down or behave abominably will get their comeuppance. Frequently they don't, but as we're going through a wheat-from-chaff time, perhaps we'll be left facing those remaining who are positive and proactive with great personal skills. And from that, those who fell by the wayside can only learn, and everyone pushes their game up a level.

Which is a long winded way of saying "bwahahahaha".

Weekend

Friday night had a lovely evening out with a friend I hadn't hung out with in forever. I got back home and found Mike almost-asleep in the living room. Yesterday Mike and I woke up, had breakfast, then watched Southland Tales with a bed-picnic at lunchtime. Hmm. Interesting mess, indeed, on both counts. At 3pm we both got oddly sleepy, and woke up gone 7pm. We were tired. Then had a curry, then to bed again.

So, so far this weekend, I have eaten and slept. It's been quite nice.