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Mexican tat-dance

June 27 2009

Sombrero

Sombrero

Despite the excitement of Freddie Sears's loan and Rhoys Wiggins's injury, Jamesey braves the wrath of HOL to see a film with no Palace connections whatsoever, apart from a tinge of the absurd.

Well, it's three in a row, folks.

A couple of weeks ago I reviewed the movie "Looking for Eric" and, despite the general approval of the critics, I thought it was awful and unworthy of the previous work of the great director Ken Loach.

A couple of emails I received actually berated me for using the C-word (Cantona, that is) on this website at all. An extraordinary attitude really and one I find difficult to comprehend.

Should we censor all references to players and managers we don't like? According to some idiots, yes.

Last week I dealt with Simon Jordan's production of "Telstar" and was accused of reviewing a film I hadn't seen, although I didn't actually review it at all and said so right at the start.

Yes, I did take a pop at Simon Jordan and have done increasingly in the past year or two because I think he is taking us down an increasingly dark tunnel though his obvious lack of interest.

I was amazed to hear that some people didn't regard the efforts of Joe Meek as a 60s flash in the pan but as some sort of cultural peak.

Mature adults who might even have unwittingly heard the music of J S Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Charlie Parker, Louis Armstrong and John Coltrane and who seriously rate the paltry burblings of Meek rather welcome a long overdue, severe ear syringing.

Ignorance is bliss on that front.

And so, to my shock, there at my local multiplex was a Mexican art film, "Rudo y Cursi", directed by Carlos Cuaron and with two big Hispanic stars Gael García Bernal and Diego Luna.

So Mrs J and myself joined the throng - ourselves, two fat people who muttered to themselves thoughout and a giggling fellow in the front.

My main beef was that the English subtitles were flashing on and off continually to keep up with the machine-gun Mexican sound-track and it was difficult to jump up and down from picture to words,

But it's not Sr Cuaron's fault that my Mexican Spanish is poor but I do feel that in cinematic terms that too much dialogue sometimes points to an indifferent picture.

There is a fair bit of football after the two banana worker siblings - one a keeper, the other a striker - are drafted off to Mexico City by a shyster Argentine agent to play for opposing sides and there are some pretty good gags mixed in the rather unco-ordinated mix.

But if I were you, I wouldn't bother.

Enough films for now and roll on the next accessible (for me) CPFC friendly.

*GOVERNMENT WARNING. Much of this column is intended to be humorous and not to be taken all that seriously.

See Time Out's review

Banana brothers... Mexican rivals


Email Jamesey with your comments to jevans3704@aol.com

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