Street Food
Silkworm and sausage aside, Korean street food has so far been an eye-opening experience.
Hi, remember me? I used to blog regularly on this site until The Wire entered my life and effectively killed my TV consumption for four box sets.
Set in and around the projects and high-rises of Baltimore’s deprived South Side, HBO’s most thrilling export to date (and there’s been a few) for a time dominated my life and pushed all other TV to the margins. Thus, while Delia was getting intimate with tins of canned lamb, Neighbours was moving to channel 5, and Michael Sophocles was shitting all over Sir Alan in The Apprentice, I was more concerned about Omar’s next stick up and what was happening in Hamsterdam to give a shit. I realise this amounts to nothing less that a dereliction of duties and an affront to my flashing friend in the corner, but it’s just so good I’m afraid I couldn’t help myself.
But that’s only one half of the story. The truth is that after watching The Wire I began to get a little disillusioned with my attempts at pop cultural analysis and plaigirism so I tried to turn my hand at fiction. You can read the results at Dead bodies weigh heavier than broken hearts and Fikipedia and judge the results for yourself, but all I can say is it’s damn difficult!
Anyway, while I no longer technically own a TV, I’m still managing to cram quite a bit of viewing into my drying eye-holes through the wonders of i-player and other streaming video, so without further snivelling, allow me to embark on by overdue, over-stylised and over-compensating TV round up of the week.
Battlestar Galactica was recommended to me by several sources, none of whom were overt Sci-fi geeks, so I decided to give it a go. Armed with the 2hr + pilot and an open mind, I decided to let the DVD do the talking and wasn’t disappointed.
The show follows the fortunes of the last remaining humans from the 12 Gobol space colonies as they flee the Zylons, a deadly band of robots turned rebels, looking for the mythical 13th colony - which happens to be our dear own Earth. As the opening sequence dramatically reminds us each week, some of these robots look and feel human (not to mention are pretty hot) making the task ahead even more deadly as the Zylons hide within the humans’ midst.
This is a sexed up version of a 70s show by the same name, and with a kick-ass premise like this makes for addictive viewing (I’m half way through season one.) While it tends to drift towards the cheesy side a little to often for comfort, and the script can lag in places, Battlestar Galactica nevertheless punches with the big boys when comes to plot, drama and suspense. Plus there’s four seasons, making my unemployment quite frankly a breeze!
Also on the radar this week was Kidulthood, a gritty drama about the lives of the deprived teenagers at a West London school (available on BBC i-player.) as they deal with the aftermath of a pupil’s suicide. Written by Noel Clarke, who also plays the terrifying school bully Sam, Kidulthood doesn’t hold back when portraying the sex, violence and drugs of Britain’s modern youth, and has frankly made me terrified of anyone under 18!
Although quite similar in some respects to Larry Clarke’s 1995 directorial debut Kids, Kidulthood manages to carve out a space of its own when it comes to shocking the viewer and offering nothing but unrelenting bleakness as it eulogises the fate of Thatcher’s last, unwanted children.
It makes for compelling viewing, and with the sequel Adulthood out in cinema’s tomorrow, you could do worse than give it a shot.
Last week however, things were a little different. After having duped the Duchess into an Eastern escapade and bade a tearful “missing you already” to The Wire Series 1, I tossed the TV Guide and packed my bags as TV Casualty finally went Continental.
As any good guide book will tell you, the first thing you should do when you arriving in an unfamiliar country is channel surf your hotel box. Television can expose the best and worst aspects of a country, broadcasting everything from Olympic triumph to Regime change Through TV one can instantly access a rolling archive of the obsessions and intrigues that grip a nation’s collective consciousness at any given moment, and tap into the cultural life of a large swathe of its populous through the protective anonymity of a glass screen.
That said, you’re probably going to want to find an English speaking channel first to ease yourself into the culture shock. In this situation, BBC World is usually your best bet, merging as it does that familiar British presenting style with just enough extra international news to make you remember you’re on holiday. In its absence however Euronews should be more than enough to fill the gaping void. This isn’t because of the quality of journalism on show (Euronews somehow manages to cover Europe wide events with a level of scrutiny just below Newsround) rather it’s for the filler items in between news headlines.
One such filler is “No Comment,” where news footage is shown without narration, and little indication as to what is actually going on. While some of the footage is reasonably self-explanatory, some requires an altogether more creative approach from the viewer. Thus you can find yourself inventing all sorts of reasons why four men in grey suits should be walking into a building, and lets face it, whatever you make up is likely to be about 100 times less depressing than the truth.
Another filler item (and my personal favourite) is “Flashback,” in which a news story from exactly one year before is shown in surprising detail for Euronews, in doing so turning the whole concept of “news” on its head. Tuning into one of these bad boys can initially be incredibly exciting in a “Shit I knew this was going to happen!” way, but as the realisation dawns on you that you are neither psychic nor have you travelled back in time somehow, its actually quite interesting. Of course sometimes major events are reported that you have absolutely no recollection of, but I suppose its better late than never.
Having suitably reassured yourself that the English speaking world still exists, you may want to venture outside into new territories. On this occasion, I managed to stumble across Polska Nostrovia, a highly entertaining show in which Ladas and other Soviet era rust buckets are navigated around a variety of obstacles. This can range from contestants double parking on a yellow square to going hell for leather off road, mowing down cardboard cut outs of animals trying to cross the road, kind of like Top Gear meets The Animals of Farthing Wood. The fact that there is a language barrier doesn’t matter either, as the hilarity of bad driving is, of course, universal.
Other highlights include watching your favourite movies dubbed in German, which can range from being expertly done to absolutely ridiculous, as well as the ever popular music text in channels such as Viva.tv. Channels such as Viva serve not only to show that morons exist all over the world (witness XXX GUNTER IST SEXI XXX a few times and you’ll know what I mean) but also show that for all their enviable multi-lingual skills, lyrics written in English by Continental Europeans are all uniformly lame, alleviating somewhat that feeling of awkward ignorance implicit in travelling anywhere outside the English speaking world except possibly France.
With TV like this at your fingertips, it’s easy to see why people say travel broadens the mind.
At first glance a number of things jar in the Masterchef goes large format. For a start, while some of the contestants are old enough and far enough into their (mis)chosen careers to really benefit from the fast track to job in cooking, the increasingly younger make-up of the contestants make a less convincing case for the whole “one chance to realise their dreams” foundation on which the show trades. If they want to cook so badly, one asks oneself, why not just get a job in a kitchen? It could be that I’m missing the point entirely, or that getting what you want without working for it is actually looks good on a CV these days, but I don’t tune in to Masterchef now without my sceptic gun cocked and with the safety off.
It’s also painfully repetitive, with much of the show looking like it’s been directed by a computer programme. Each day the same lines are trotted out by the voiceover. “Accountant Robert is risking it all with…” describes anything technical or offbeat, while “but will that be enough to impress the judges?” is generally reserved for more conventional efforts. The emotional state of the contestants is similarly portrayed with a few easily recognisable rules. Stress and pressure are denoted by the Prodigy, while Keane usually kick in at the end accompanied by a group hug to portray the bond forged by the group and good will towards the emotional winner. Personally I’d want to kick him or her in the shins but then again I am solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.
Yet despite these foibles, Masterchef draws me back, if intermittently, again and again. Chief among the reasons for this is the quality and thoughtfulness of the cooking on show. Most of the contestants display a genuine flair and passion for what they are doing, and the often inventive, risky and instinctual combinations (particularly in the first round) show approaches to food I might not usually consider. The earnestness of the contestants is another plus; many contestants look like their very life depends on the taster’s reaction to their laboriously crafted creations, and I can only admire the guts it must take to put themselves out there through their food. For these reasons, last years contest threw up some interesting finalists and made for a good season finish. This year some of those contestants have been invited back to undergo life-threatening 16 hour shifts in some top kitchens later in the series, so it’ll be interesting to see how this kink in the format works out.
Exploring a more sobering theme this week BBC 2 also kicked off the first in (another) series of films about the Iraq War with the badly titled The Boys of Baghdad High. This fly on the wall documentary follows the lives of four Iraqi friends as they try to maintain a normal life on the increasingly blood soaked streets of the Iraqi capital. Having been provided with video cameras the boys then recorded the various aspects of their day to day lives, be it singing along to a Britney Spears song or running the daily gauntlet to school and back. For dramatic effect, the friends were all from different religious backgrounds (though only two of them appeared to hang out with each other) giving a further twist to the tale.
Although The Boys of Baghdad High was rich in material and made for a unique on the ground insight of what is going on in Baghdad, the programme was badly let down by the editing. For some reason the four boy’s voices were dubbed into English (in wildly unfitting accents) while everyone elses were subtitled, affecting the fluidity of some of the scenes. In addition, the film was cut somewhat haphazardly, and seemed to be trying to manipulate the footage to show the boys everday life, i.e. hanging out or being nagged by their mothers, jarring with the stark realities of the war. This in itself isn’t necessarily bad, but instead of providing us with a stark contrast as the programme makers must have intended, it seemed to enforce a misplaced light-heartedness to some scenes when the truth was much grimmer. Although it did throw up the line “If Chemical Ali really wanted to destroy the north, he should have fired a rocket with Mohammed’s socks in it.”
There were some poignant moments, such as when two of the boys parted company as one relocated to the Kurdish north to escape the violence, as well as some truly terrifying footage of explosions and firefights, but somewhere in putting it all together the integrity was lost, and as such I doubt The Boys of Baghdad winning any awards for film making.
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