When Simon Munnery got backstage at The Stand last night, he told us all of a man at the back of the room who was telling another man, someone he didn’t know, that he really wanted to heckle but didn’t know if he should. The other man was telling him that he never heckled and thought it was wrong and then tried to avoid the wannabe heckler, but he persisted in trying to ask for guidance on whether or not to shout things. The Stand staff had noticed him come in and had been keeping an eye on him since he got there, so he was well known, although not deemed to be dangerous, just a bit of a dick. As the second section started I stood at the back and didn’t need to have him pointed out to me. He was playing on his phone, and as the open spot went on, he nudged the man he’d been speaking to, and then, in response to the comic’s question of ‘How’s everyone doing?’, he responded loudly with ‘Shite.’ The comedian picked up on this and said ‘Oh thats a shame’, to which he then, shaking with pride for himself shouted ‘Cheer me up!’ I’ve never seen anyone so happy that they’d had the courage to do something so meaningless before, but there was something oddly warming about this odd man finally doing what he’d wanted to all night, even if it was completely the wrong thing to do. Although those heckles weren’t exactly malicious. As he shouted the second line, the staff swooped in on him and he immediately went all shy, apologised and made himself sit outside to calm down. It was a beautifully pathetic display, but there is part of me that hopes he felt fulfilled with his efforts.
I watched the trailer for the new Clash of the Titans film yesterday afternoon. This is a film I was tentatively looking forward to, as I loved the original where plasticine monsters fought each other with a venom that I can only imagine is replicated at a Morph family do. It was a classic Greek legend and its pretty hard to completely mess up a tale that’s been loved by everyone for so so many years, because its already imbedded in a lot of people’s heads as a brilliant myth. In the same way that if Parkinson killed someone in road rage, he’d probably get away with it, just for his sheer status as a much loved sage type of our times. I mean, even the person’s family would probably forgive him a bit, especially if he interviewed them about how they felt. He’s oddly calming like that. But it appears that they have screwed up Clash of the Titans already. It doesn’t appear to be the CGI, even though I was sure that couldn’t beat a play-do cyclops. Nor is it a ruined storyline or wooden acting. I expected both of those. Its almost criteria for allowing the film to be made. No, instead its that the tagline is this:
Clash of the Titans. Titans Will Clash.
Really? Is that really the best you could come up with? The film is steeped in mythology and magic and yet the only slogan that could be made involves slightly mixing two of the words around? I can only imagine it was done on a Friday afternoon when everyone really wanted to leave the office. It was probably the 8th or 9th attempt after getting stuck on ‘I’ll Clash your Titan’, ‘Titan your Clashes’, ‘Clash Bang Wallop, Titan’ and ‘There’s some Titans and what they do is Clash a bit’. All hopes of this film have now been completely dashed. If the slogan’s that unoriginal I can only wonder what the dialogue in the film is like. ‘Where are you going Perseus?’ ‘I’m going to go Clash with some Titans’ etc etc. Perhaps this, and the ‘Shit Scared Film of The Decade’ quote for Descent 2 (see here: http://tiernandouieb.blogspot.com/2009/10/hallow-to-you.html) signals the end of effort in film marketing. It won’t be long before we see ‘Man will Iron’, ‘Stories about Toys’ or ‘The Wild Things Are Where? Where Are Those Wild Things?’
Two more lovely shows last night. The charity gig was an absolute delight with 400 very lovely audience members, and it was run by very lovely people for a good cause. Only thing I couldn’t figure out was that considering it was for the Centre of Health and Wellbeing, they handed me a bottle of whisky to say thanks. Surely that’s counterproductive? Although to be fair if I drink enough I will feel pretty happy. At least for a while. After my last show at the Stand I headed over to Jongleurs to watch Carey Marx, who had a great set. We stuck around for a drink afterwards and stared at people dancing. It was a bit like a car crash, if the airbags had been filled with make up and the passengers had continued to judder and shake once they’d been freed from the vehicles. I would have been disturbed by it, but I’d already witnessed the non-heckler so I felt I had run out of pity. Still they all seemed to be having fun and thats what matters isn’t it? Especially when you compare it to me going back to my hotel room and pouring 8 of the coffee creamers into a cup to try and have a drink of milk with a shortbread biscuit. I feel I achieved a new low there and then.
Also, it was World Diabetes Day yesterday. Hope you all celebrated me and others. But not by baking a cake. That would have been insensitive.