DA Pennebaker, that eminent celluloid chronicler of live rock (Don't Look Back, Down From The Mountain), filmed the farewell Ziggy show (July 3, 1973, Hammersmith Odeon), and now Tony Visconti's remixed the soundtrack for a 30th anniversary double CD special edition (the film's out on DVD, too). Bowie's between-song banter is included for the first time, most notably the big bold brouhaha of the bye-bye speech. And "The Width Of A Circle" is present in all its noisy, unedited, 16-minute glory.
Now wealthy enough to not fall foul of record company lawyers (unpaid for Nana Mouskouri samples resulted in tracks being pulled from their 2000 debut Programmed To Love), The Everlasting Blink features a series of inspired if somewhat bizarre guest stars.
Like everyone else, if I crave the society of other adults, I'll have to pretend this is abhorrent. (Really, it's just so-so). Yet, if the Beeb had had the balls to spotlight the rebels in the camp instead of pushing the show into a karaoke niche none of the kids fancied, it could've been more grotesquely compelling than Big Brother's Jade in her porcine pomp. Ainslie, for one, had it in him to be an irritating iconoclast of some pluck, and even the toothsome David was drunkenly bitching like a trouper till he twigged he was actually going to win the thing and played safe.
With Mushroom having left the band and Daddy G taking a sabbatical from the studio to concentrate on family life, it falls to Robert Del Naja (3D) to carry forward Massive Attack into the beyond, in collaboration with Neil Davidge, the producer of their third album Mezzanine (1998).
Without Mezzanine's layers of guitar, which left some Massive Attack lovers narrowing their eyes doubtfully, 100 Windows seems at first subdued. Much as shapes only gradually reveal themselves in an initially pitch black room, so it is with this album, which takes a few listens to become accustomed to.
Ken Loach's 1969 masterpiece (based on Barry Hines' novel and produced/co-written by Tony Garnett, later behind This Life and The Cops) remains the template for grim oop north dramas. Its honesty, spontaneity and spiky humour shame more recent dilutions such as the appalling, infuriatingly overrated Billy Elliot.
When a young Yorkshire lad, ignored by his loutish mom and brother and beaten down by grumpy, bullying teachers, finds a baby kestrel on the moors, he discovers a purpose in life, vowing to train it to fly. Only one teacher (Colin Welland) is sympathetic.
In a small Arizona town a toxic waste dump creates a plague of hundreds of giant spiders. Cue mass destruction and enormous fun, since the SFX are first-rate, the cast (led by David Arquette) is solid and the script strikes the right balance between laughs and twitch-inducing 'arach-attacks'. The best giant bug movie for decades.
DVD EXTRAS: Trailer, commentary, deleted scenes, plus Larger Than Life—director Ellory Elkayem's first award-winning short horror film.
(PH)