This week super injunctions have once again, ironically, been in the news, largely thanks to a confession from the BBC’s Andrew Marr. He believes the balance has strayed too far in favour of gagging the media, despite having his own super injunction to conceal an affair. He supports the call of many to put the rules back in front of MPs for debate. Why should such extreme privacy only be available to mega rich politicians, TV stars or footballers?
They may be able to keep a lid on certain stories with their fat cheques but they can’t stop us discussing the issue itself. And it’s a difficult and ethically complex problem. On the one hand we can’t have censorship coming before free speech, but to live in a free society privacy is also important. Continually we are told that if a story is in the “public interest” it shouldn’t be hidden away under lock and key. But what does that actually mean? The hypothetical (but all too common) “footballer and a prostitute” scenario, is wheeled out by both sides of the argument again and again.
Those speaking up for the principle of super injunctions argue that what anyone does sexually is their own business, just as their health or bank details are. Footballers are private individuals that just happen to be prominently in the public eye. But the reason they are so closely studied by the media and their fans is not what they do off the field, but on it. Any personal problems they may have, whether it’s the fallout from shagging Imogen Thomas, an addiction to scratch cards or a fear of candyfloss, should be resolved in their own time and space without intrusion.
On the other hand of course the opponents will bellow in outrage that footballers are role models for our children and should behave as such. They may be talented but with such lucratively rewarding contracts they should act responsibly in return, and concentrate on delivering the best performance they can, week in week out in a professional manner, without the distraction of off the field turmoil. Season ticket holders, investors and fans in general may all feel justified in wanting to know whether their star striker is wasting his wages and fitness on whores after training sessions.
I have to say I have more sympathy with the pro-privacy side of the argument, when it comes to footballers and their whores at least. Of course with the ludicrous money they’re earning they should be focusing on giving our clubs’ the best they can offer on the pitch every weekend. But frankly I don’t care about their numerous and identical scandals. It’s an inevitability that young men, their wallets brimming with cash, end up disgracing themselves and living dangerously. If they can play brilliantly and indulge their dirty hobbies in private, then so be it. I don’t watch football to judge morality.
It’s only when the scandals are published that they become disgusting influences on our children, when the role models become corrupted and misery heaped on the club and the player’s personal life. And as for the “public interest” argument, there are minimal grounds for exposure for the genuine good of the population. The public’s interest in rumour and gossip is another matter altogether to their wellbeing and rights.
Ignore what I just said though. I may not be at all interested in hearing of their latest filthy fumbles, but for everyone to turn a blind eye would mean the disrespectful bastards get away with it time after time. Enough of them already escape the consequences by wielding their wealth for a super injunction or a quiet payoff for the mistress. Countless clowning cocks lucky enough to play football for a living probably simply get away with it because they’re not good enough, or famous enough, for anyone to care if they cheat on their wives and the mothers of their children.
There will undoubtedly be cases when it’s best and fairest if privacy is maintained. There will be others with a real and pressing “public interest”, far more vital than a lustful midfielder’s latest lay, that must see the scrutinizing light of publicity. The only sensible way to deal with the issue is on a case by case basis.
When it comes to football though, like it or not, there is a paparazzi culture for finding out the bedroom deeds of the Premiership’s so called “stars”. The players know this is a fact of life as much as we do. If they want their right to privacy preserved the only way forward is for them to start behaving gratefully and respectfully. They should appreciate what they have enough not to jeopardise it. There’s no need for super injunctions without scandal in the first place.
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged 2010, 2011, action, adultery, Andrew, appreciate, attitude, balance, barristers, bastards, behaviour, Big Questions, Britain, British, candy, cards, cash, Caught, Caught Offside, censorship, cheats, cheques, children, clowns, Coalition, cocks, Comedy, courts, debate, dressing, England, ethical, ethics, exposure, fair, field, floss, football, free, free speech, gagging, Giggs, goals, grateful, history, hookers, Imogen, injunction, injunctions, intrusion, invasion, ironic, ironically, issue, John, Labour, lawyers, Liam, libel, liberty, London, loser, love, Marr, media, models, Money, mother, MPs, new, news, newspapers, oddly, off field, Offside, on field, order, paparazzi, Parliament, performance, philosophy, pitch, play, player, plot, press, privacy, problem, professional, prostitutes, QC, respect, rethink, Review, role model, Room, Rooney, Ryan, scandal, score, scratch, sensible, sex, slags, soccer, story, style, Sunday AM, super, tabloids, Terry, The, The Andrew Marr Show, Thomas, thoughts, topical, Trim, tv, UK, unfair, Verdict, Wayne, wealth, whores, wife, Will, winner, writer, writing
I’ll start with a revelation; I paid actual money to own this on DVD. It was cheap, it was on offer, but nevertheless I handed over real currency. Why not just burn a wad of cash instead? The answer is that these days I am so enjoying wearing my critic’s hat that I actively sought out a film on the shelves of HMV that would prove the perfect target for a volley of vitriol on a day of frustration. Yes bad films can be painful to endure, but take a tip from me; write derisively about them afterwards and the whole experience is transformed into the best kind of therapy.
I also thought that given the hordes of superhero blockbusters soon set for release, a great many of which based on cinematically underused characters, it would be interesting to examine a film trying to establish a franchise. And more than likely point out all the areas it fails in, thus advising the big cheeses at Marvel and DC and the like, who all hang on my every word.
Having said this despite day after day of dismalness since I purchased GI Joe, days in which I could have done with a cleansing rant, I could not bring myself to sit down to watch it, knowing that watching the film itself would probably shovel manure onto my already foul smelling mood.
Now though the deed is done. All of GI Joe’s 113 minutes rammed down my eyeballs and willingly into the vaults of memory. My verdict will be far from surprising. As usual it’s simultaneously comforting and disheartening to have my own views almost precisely tally with the summary on Rotten Tomatoes:
“While fans of the Hasbro toy franchise may revel in a bit of nostalgia, G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra is largely a cartoonish, over-the-top action fest propelled by silly writing, inconsistent visual effects, and merely passable performances”
Yes I might be getting it right, but what’s the point in me if I don’t say anything new?
With this in mind then, here are some things that were surprising about GI Joe: The Rise of Cobra:
1) It’s got a really impressive cast! People pop up from all over the world of film and TV, for even the slightest of roles, and in particular from places kids will love. There’s a Doctor Who being bad (a suitably evil and decent performance from Christopher Eccleston), the Mummy from The Mummy, the villain from Bond film Tomorrow Never Dies as the President, the guy who stops the Mummy in The Mummy, that cool street dance kid, her from Stardust, the serious one from Inception (Joseph Gordon-Levitt, who’s soon to be in Batman too!) and that shouty scientist who saves the world from the inevitability of global warming in The Day After Tomorrow. I can only assume that all the American stars in this loved the toys and all the Brits were paid treasure chests full of booty for their unavoidably sinister accents.
2) Talking of booty GI Joe has an awful lot of it for a family friendly action story. Dennis Quaid struts around as a General with a stunning beautiful assistant always to hand. Sienna Miller’s cleavage deserved its own recognition on the billboards. Red headed, blonde and brunette beauties are showcased in everything from skin tight “accelerator” suits, to tiny jogging tops or outfits made from 100% leather. Obviously to enjoy GI Joe at all you leave plausibility and realism at home. But there’s something disturbing about all this flesh for a potential franchise based on toys and a film with a 12 rating. It’s like the Playboy bunnies broke into Toys R Us and are teasing you before an orgy.
3) I enjoyed (some of) it. Maybe it was just Sienna’s constant pouting. But the extended action set piece in Paris was quite creative at times; over the top and overflowing with visual effects for sure, but enjoyable compared to the other numerous grandstand battles.
The most annoying thing about GI Joe: The Rise of Cobra was its endless focus on the back-story of various characters. This is saying something. Most of its irritating faults are obvious; the wooden and unwatchable Channing Tatum, the relentless pointless noise, the other mechanical actors playing cartoon cut outs, the fact that the whole thing is a lifeless mess. Perhaps what was really annoying about the continual flashbacks and diversions to show how the characters all had past grudges against each other, was that it made GI Joe have ambitions that went beyond making noise. Almost as if they thought they were telling a narrative that could be called “engaging” or kick-starting a franchise that could be “successful”.
The very opening scene, with absolutely atrocious French and Scottish accents in the 17th century, tried far too hard to give the characters meaning and seemed redundant in reality. Studio chiefs take note: don’t fuck with history or flit through the past lives of your characters. Even if you’re trying to sell the toys they’re based on.
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged 007, 12 rating, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, accelerator suits, accent, action, actor, arms, arms trade, awful, babes, back-story, bad, Batman, Bell, Black Eyed Peas, blockbuster, blog, blonde, Bond, boobs, booty, Britain, British, Brosnan, brunette, cake, Captain America, cartoonish, Casanova, Channing, characters, children, Christopher, cinema, console, correctly, Craig, critics, culture, currency, Daniel, David, DC Comics, dead, Dennis, director, disturbing, Doctor, dum, Eccleston, effects, Emmerich, engaging, explosions, film, flashbacks, Flickering, flirt, follow, franchise, fuck, fun, funny, games, GI, GI Joe: The Rise of Cobra, Gordon-Levitt, graphics, Green, Green Lantern, Guardian, guns, Hasbro, hat, hilarious, history, humour, images, Inception, Iron Man, ironic, James, Jamie, Jonathan, Joseph, kids, Layer, Liam, lifeless, London, loud, love, marvel, material, Me, menacing, Miller, Money, movie, Mrt'sblog, myth, narrative, NATO, new, noise, novel, one liner, orgy, Paris, past, Pierce, playboy, plot, Pryce, Pyramids, Quaid, read, red head, release, Review, sarcasm, screen, script, sex, short, Sienna, sinister, skin, Sommers, Source, Stardust, Step Up, story, stunts, style, successful, summer, superhero, Superman, Tatum, that, The, The Avengers, The Day After Tomorrow, The Eagle, The Mummy, therapy, Thor, thoughts, tight, Tomorrow Never Dies, toys, Toys R Us, treasure, Trim, tv, Twitter, UK, Ultra, underused, uninvolving, vent, Verdict, video, villain, visual, vitriol, volley, water, Who, witty, writer, writing, yes, you