Tess Holliday – Big, Bold, Beautiful. Plus Size Is On the Rise!

Hey Hey Guys!!

Tess Holliday

Tess Holliday

Big things are happening in the fashion industry. Tess Holliday is one of them.

The bootilicious beauty from Mississippi is making history as being the first size 22 model to be picked up by a major label, UK based company, Milk Model Management.

Tattooed, pierced and rocking a little more junk in the trunk than your bog standard clothes horse, Holliday is breaking all the rules and breaking onto the scene in a big way.

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“Bigger is better…”

This is certainly true for the humble, 29 year old mother of one from Mississippi. Not only is Holliday stunning, but the alternative model is making waves as a campaigner for change in the fashion industry and for beauty standards in general.

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In 2003 she created #effyourbeautystandards encouraging women of all shapes and sizes to love their bodies and feel empowered by their individuality. It has gathered her an impressive 455,000 admirers on Instagram and almost 28,000 Twitter followers, where she posts behind the scenes shots of her on shoots, as well daily fashion snaps.

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Suicide Girls are an alternative models website and founder Selena Mooney rates Holliday’s future. “I’ve been following the #effyourbeautystandards movement for a while now, and I think it’s fantastic. Women have been put into boxes and made to feel ashamed if they don’t meet this specific cookie-cutter look that society dictates. Everyone is beautiful in their own way.  I’m just glad there are strong, intelligent, and gorgeous women like Ms. Holliday to influence and encourage society to break the mould and get people talking about female empowerment.”

After so long pandering to the obscene and regimented standards of most fashion houses, Holliday is presenting an alternative – a realistic, alternative.

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Critics have suggested that, far from being a positive representation of the female form, she is encouraging an unhealthy lifestyle with her size. But this is far from the truth, as Holliday works out with a trainer three times a week to maintain her glamorous curves.

With her flowing auburn hair, she looks reminiscent of a model from the Romantic period. Though her body confidence is something that has grown with time, much like the booty that is making her so worshipped now.

She told Look magazine, “I had to leave school at 17 because of bullying. I understand not everyone understands what I’m about. But to me it’s such a simple concept. It’s all about loving your body regardless of your size and chasing your dreams.”

Speaking to the Daily New York News she spoke of the struggles of her childhood. “I feel like I’m breaking ground. I never could have imagined that I could be here. It took a really long time to get over things that had happened to me during the vital years of my life. My mom always encouraged me, I’m always still that 13-year-old girl in Mississippi who people told I wasn’t good enough. I never could have imagined that I could be here.”

Tess is not only a great addition to the fashion industry as a model, but an inspiration as a role model. Real-world body types are grossly misrepresented in high fashion, television, advertising… Where is the variety? There is an increasing level of discourse between the pictures seen in magazines and the reality of life. An average UK woman is a size 16, yet models are generally an 8-10.

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It is becoming more and more difficult for females to accept themselves when being constantly told they are not “right”. For this reason, we need more pioneers, more strong minded, self-respecting role models to look up to.

The 5 foot 5″ babe is several inches smaller than the average plus size model, who generally stand at 5 foot 8″, making her yet more unique. Milk have been keeping quiet about what their plans are for their new star, but we can certainly expect to see those ruby locks a lot more in the near future.

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We aren’t all Victoria’s Secret models. Few of us can even afford to shop there and their gym bill must be more than rent in halls! But we can aspire to the mind-set of Holliday; live to make you happy. Screw what other people think and if they give you crap for it – show them one of Tess Hollidays’ super sexy, uber confident Instagram pics, with their sassy tags and F**k the haters mantras.

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SSDD

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James Watt: Painter for the People

James Watt is a name synonymous with Scottish innovation, the Greenock inventor creating the steam engine.

But another Jimmy has shown his talents, in the form of a Port Glasgow painter by the same name. His recent exhibit at The Beacon Arts Center, Greenock, is his latest public display and his first in the newly built arts center.

Main Entrance - Beacon Arts Center

Main Entrance – Beacon Arts Center

The setting is more appropriate than your usual gallery. As a painter of an aquatic theme, the gallery sees the paintings overlooking the Clyde, the river which inspired the painter for half a century. The Beacons entire back wall is made of glass, giving for a majestic view of the water. One might think this would give visitors some small insight as to why Watt found it such an inspiring location; they would be wrong. It was the smog filled ship yards and dirty working men that lit the fire of creativity in this Port-born man.

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The man himself was in attendance on the Friday I visited, and the day before as well. Watt said of the new local arts center;

“It’s a marvelous building, it really is. For the first time since the ship yards closed I feel we’re really making use of what the Clyde has to offer, if not in such an industrial sense. It’s a beautiful location and it’s wonderful to see the pictures all overlooking the water. It’s where they were all painted, after all.”

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Having come from a line of working class men, poorly educated with little prospect other than to go straight from basic schooling into the expected and predictable future of a trade, Watt found himself of school leaving age during a time of unexpected promise. Further education was no longer an unattainable dream for the working man, a lavish luxury of the wealthy. Scholarship and free further education were being offered to the working middle class and Watts father, being a clever man and self-educated despite his humble station, saw an opportunity to send his equally so ambitious sons on a path to a life he had no hope of attaining.

On workers his opinion was clear;

“Whether they were clever or not was irrelevant; this was what was expected of them. My father was a very clever man. He read books that most of the other men would never have heard of and the fact that he was even interested in what they had to say was strange to them, alien even. Something he would be mocked over. Now we can see that he was just a man with a mind more than his station but with no way to correctly employ that inherent brilliance. It’s very sad, really, because you just don’t know how many others were in the same position.”

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And so it was that James Watt found himself able to attend Art School and begin to create painted works from the scenes he saw growing up. Industry features prominently in almost all of his works and his paintings more often defy the quintessential ideal of pretty boats on sparkling water under a lightly dusted blue skies. They reveal the true rawness and unyielding mire of the yards and the daily toil of the men who worked there.

“It was a toil, that’s exactly the word. Those men had no prospects; they would never leave the yards once they sucked them in. They had no choice but to go straight from school and pick a trade, work at it all their lives and live the predictable, mundane life of a grafter, same as every other man in the yard.” he said, “Not to say that they weren’t extremely skilled, which they were, in their way.”

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Often painting these scenes of graft and Clyde creation in burnished tones, there is an almost sinister, otherworldly atmosphere from them. They depict relics of a bygone age as the shipping industry has since died out from the area, moving on to greener pastures in South Korea and other, offshore locations.

The artists favourite

The artists favourite

Taking great pleasure in speaking to admirers of his work he spoke of the largest in the exhibition being his favourite. Featuring on the main entrance wall of the gallery his fondness of it was clear;

“It’s not even that I think it’s my best painting,” he told me, “But it’s only now that I’ve lent it to the Beacon and it’s no longer hanging on the wall in my house that I can’t help feeling a little bereft in it’s absence. I think it’s more that I painted it at a time I now reflect upon as bring poignant… I’m actually feeling a little anxious with it hanging there, I quite want it back now.” he laughed, but there was a glint of yearning the kind, weathered face.

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My personal favourite was found at the back of the gallery. Consuming a massive expanse of wall, it was one of the lighter, more hopeful images in the show. Titled ‘ARDBEG’ it was painted in 1980 and is oil on canvas.

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Ardbeg

Ardbeg

Ardbeg

There is a light and an optimism for the freedom of boating that struck me as being quietly beautiful, a relief in a collection of largely russet toned canvases.

Interspersing the work yard themed, brazenly painted boat scenes are pictures of a more traditional marine sort. Though one could hardly describe them as “bright”, they are several shades lighted than their harder edged kin. Depicting the cloudy Scottish weather, the waters edge in these smaller canvasses are often lonely feeling, quiet, muted tones showing the simplicity of beachfront life.

The inventor of the steam engine might be a national treasure, but I doubt he could depict his home the way this James Watt does, so many years later.

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Murray Mania: Enthusing a Nation

Those of you who follow TENNIS or are just captivated by the quintessential optimistic Englishness of strawberry’s and cream in the constant face of a potential storm, will know that Andy Murray is kind of a big deal.

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He’s THE NEW WIMBLEDON CHAMPION!!!!! 😀 😀 😀

GO ANDY!! :D

GO ANDY!! 😀

Andy’s perseverance to become so has inspired a nation for the years he’s fought to win on Centre Court.

He beat off Novak Djokovic in 3 straight sets, in blood boiling heat of almost 50 degrees, in a battle that will surely have it’s heart racing final game replayed on the golden reel of tennis forevermore.

Novak Djokovic

Novak Djokovic

Andy Murray broke a 77 year dry spell of Male British Winners of Wimbledon, the last British Male to win being Fred Perry in 1936. As the commentator said as the players walked onto the court, if he were to win (which he did) he would be the first player to do so in shorts – gentlemen played in long trousers back then!

There are so many reasons to be proud of Andy. For one thing, he’s been playing in Wimbledon for several years and done well, meaning that for the few weeks of summer left after the tournament ends, about 90% of British children and 20% of their over-involved parents *, become healthy, enthusiastic health freaks, and join a Tennis Club. A membership that gets shoved to the back of a drawer as soon as the Autumn winds appear. Around August. So he’s inspiring a healthier nation, if only for the short weeks of summer.

*(these statistics are totally made-up, btw)

But more than that, he does what few things can; he brings together a quartered nation under the shared support of one man.

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man or boy?? …

Great Britain, in spite of its’ name, is not a particularly “cuddly” places, regarding it’s relationship with its members. The ancient rivalry between Scotland and England has often served as a divide, much in the same way the USA views Canada. But for that fortnight in July, when the spell of Wimbledon sweeps over this island, we are united. Sure, we indulge in petty quibbles about “when he’s winning he’s BRITISH but when he’s losing, oooh, then he’s SCOTTISH!”, but that’s all part of the fun. Those little jibes that let us keep our national identities while still reveling in the shared bolstering of a 26 year old already held as a sporting treasure.

Until yesterday we had become accustomed to that perpetual let down come the semi finals. But all that has changed.

Yesterday, both my dad and I cried tears of pride in a man who has literally trained his entire life and who has now achieved his dream. To watch someone’s dream come true on live television, along with 17.5 MILLION other people was really quite a special experience and not something I’m ever likely to forget. That shared elation may only have been a tiny piece of the overwhelming ecstasy Andy Murray was feeling, but to be a rock in the waves of the young athlete’s joy was enough to give me a head rush – imagine the effect it had on his 6ft 3″ of tennis-star muscle!

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Another, lesser reason I am personally proud of him is the fact that he’s Scottish. As a Scot myself, whenever “we” win at something, it’s always a cause for national celebration. And, while I’m not exactly a patriot, I do feel a sense of pride when someone from up North beats someone, anyone, really. (… but yes, when we beat England…)

Prime Minister David Cameron went on record today as saying that he “can’t think of anyone more deserving of a Knighthood” in the New Years honours list for 2014.

the face of a new Knight of the Realm?? :D

the face of a new Knight of the Realm?? 😀

So, next Wimbledon, with our Pimm’s, ice and mint, strawberry’s and cream, white flannel shorts and button down polo shirts, we could be bounding onto center court in unified support of SIR ANDY MURRAY! Roll on the New Year and we’ll find out…

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Now, where’s my tennis racket???… I feel the need to thwack furry yellow balls…

LINK TO ALL THINGS BRITISH AND TENNIS!!

 

SSDD

Casual Sexism Has Comebacks

Casual sexism is making comebacks, not just coming back.

So you want to send the women to the kitchen, do you?

So you want to send the women to the kitchen, do you?

Women are w whole lot wittier and less subduable than we were. That antiquated 60s resignment of  kitsch to the kitchen is so abhorred now that FEMINISM is a whole being on its own, not just a whispered idea at a womans’ only book club or afternoon tea ceremony.

Feminism is something that’s not so much grown legs as grown the ability to breathe fire and propel rockets out its ass! We aren’t afraid to tell a man to get the fuck up off his lazy ass and get himself whatever he is asking for, if it’s derogatory. Coz, you know, if you’re in the kitchen already and he’s just asking for a coffee, to say no would be, you, know… kinda bitchy.

Females in general are the “fairer sex” but that doesn’t mean we are the “softer” sex. We have strength and ability, ambition and creativity – but that’s old news. No one wants to hear that about women. Where’s the new angle? Honestly, even the wordFEMINISM” to me is a little discriminative – we’re already a separate gender, do we really need another label to be further distance from the so-called dominant males?

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Honestly, there shouldn’t have to be one, yet it’s an ever-evolving subject. These cute ideas of what women should be, like being in the kitchen and making sandwiches all hours of the day and night are changing too (by the way, the amount of sandwich jokes I hear in a week would suggest that every woman on earth should be feeding about 2000 people a day; I would like to be shown one person with that many male mouths to feed or even one person capable of munching that many sandwiches – men who request these, prove to me you can eat the number of sandwiches you request and them consider me impressed).

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Is THIS the perfect woman to you?? Really??

Now, the idea of the perfect woman has changed. It involves big boobs, make-up and a dependence on the man to save you from the bother of responsibility. You need to look only at most action movies to see this. Exceptions to the rule are slowly on the increase, thought they’ve been around for years. Unfortunately, most of them could be found only in literature. And not the sort that guys were likely to pick up. One of my favourite female writer, Laurie Penny, recently wrote an excellent post for the New Statesman about this. Link HERE. Also, she starts some really interesting convos on Twitter.

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My favourite book for example, is The Amber Spyglass, by Philip Pullman. For those of you (crazies) who haven’t read it (why the hell not, it’s awesome!?) may need some educating. Aside from it being the awe-inspiring concluding part in one of the greatest, most life changing trilogies ever penned, film watchers might be aware of the (extremely poorly made) film adaptation of the first book, Northern Lights, aka. The Golden Compass.

Dakota Blue Richards as the heroine of my childhood, Lyra Silvertongue

Dakota Blue Richards as the heroine of my childhood, Lyra Silvertongue

The protagonist, Lyra, formed my idea of what a proper children’s book heroine should be. She was (is, is, Lyra will never die in the Neverland of my most intense childhood memories) what I considered to be the perfect character for the books that would pretty much influence and help form my opinion on everything from religion to relationships to the evolution of people as people. What makes you take certain actions? How can an opinion change so drastically with the passage of time? How can the dreamland of a childhood playpen, safety net, the enclosed treasure chest of home, suddenly stop being so, and transform into an extension of a world of suspicion and fear, full of people who seek to exploit and who do not have you best interests at heart?

Lyra in sleuth mode

Lyra in sleuth mode

The answer was simple: because we grow up.

Dakota now... a young adult herself, growing up as her character did.

Dakota now… a young adult herself, growing up as her character did.

In my head, at the time, there was no question as to whether it was her gender that instilled her with such strength and resilience. These were attributes and by-products of her other, sexless qualities; fair-play, a non-judgmental, trusting view of the world through the child-like innocence of rose-tinted specs and the lack of knowledge of the gender divide. Her best friend was a boy. She abhorred “dressing up”. Was a tom boy of a most determined level. She personified a certain androgyny that made her so attractive to read about. I was frustrated at the lack of interest in reading from my male classmates, pawning the practice off as “nerdy” (at the time a less than fashionable label to be assigned).

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As time passed Lyra grew to become a young woman, as she experienced more of life and formed herself as a person rather than a child, yet lost none of the qualities that made her so enticing a character to begin with. Her increasing femininity added to the robustness of her persona and added flesh to the embodiment she gave to the representations Phillip Pullman was trying to convey – about the importance of youth, and the equal importance of losing it. She was a hero despite gender, fighting alongside grown men and being accompanied by a boy her own age. She was not only equal, she was respected. Her individual merits and unique talents were valued. A boy might admire the way she shunned her feminine ways. A girl might admire how she wore them while giving as good as she got.

It is characters like this which are becoming more common in literature and film. Katniss Everdeen from The Hunger Games being the big one recently. She, to me, is like an older version of Lyra. A fighter, a motivator, an action taker in the face of danger who can still rock a skirt should it take her fancy. But most of all,  a protector and freedom fighter.

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The stunning Jennifer Lawrence as Katniss Everdeen

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JL flippin’ the finger like a boss XD

Proving women can be Robin Hood

Proving women can be Robin Hood

...And also pull of an LRD like a pro. Weep boys, for she is far too good for you

…And also pull of an LRD like a pro. Weep boys, for she is far too good for you

So as far as feminism goes, this is what I want to see more of. Not so much androgyny as equality. For women to be looked upon by everyone as whatever they want to be seen as, rather than just pretty little objects. If they exude strength, then treat them with respect. If they want to be nerdy, take an interest rather than scorn them.

We women have minds and we enjoy using them. Men should take note and deal.

SSDD

Review: The Hangover Part III

**SPOILER ALERT** just the last paragraph though, please, read on…

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I feel like I have a hangover. And I’ve never even really had a hangover.

This was meant to be a review of what had the potential, however unlikely,  to be one of the funniest films of the year – The Hangover Part III. Yeah. So, a heads up; this one isn’t exactly going to be the most positive review in the world

I was so disappointed.

The only reason I can see for this movie to have been produced in the first place would be to deliver fans with a trifecta of classic Wolfpack hi jinks, a final, concluding pilgrimage into the boozy haze that is the Vegas/Bangkok adventures of those 4 friends. People like things to come in threes, afterall.

Well. It can only be said this attempt (feeble, poorly executed) was at best, bearable to watch. It wasn’t so much unfunny, as much as it just, wasn’t about a wild night out. Nor a missing friend. Not even memory loss.

Half way through I found myself actually wishing it would end! Where was the rambunctious night of drug and alcohol fueled madness? Where was the tiger?? The baby even??? Where was the HANGOVER!?!?

With a plot centered around repaying a debt they never knew they owed, this was more an amateur version of Ocean 11 than the Wolfpack Revisited. Yet again we have a kidnapping but was there ever any real danger? Was it even necessary? I actually forgot Doug had even been taken it mattered so little in the plot. Poor Justin Bartha. He’s a good actor, National Treasure would just have been another brooding Nicolas Cage film without him as nerdy side-kick, but he just isn’t necessary in The Hangover.

Put it this way – as much as I hate to see the guys criticised, I do not disagree with the Rotten Tomatoes rating of just 21%. I wasn’t alone in wanting and hour and a half of booze fuelled stumbling through the grandest suites in Las Vegas, doped up thrashing around the seediest back-alleys of the Thai Ladyboy underworld; I wanted a drug dealing monkey! What I got was that guy from The Flintstones and a sexually deviant Chinese guy with an agenda. Not even the so-called Sexiest Man in the World, Bradley Cooper, added any brownie points.

Sure, I chuckled from time to time, but the only big laugh was during that little bit of extra footage as the end credits rolled, signaling the end of this shambolic conclusion to a greatly anticlimactic comedy series. Instead of waking up with a tattoo on the side of his face, our dear Dentist Stu (Ed Helms) wakes up… with a boob job!

Now that would have been a hangover worth watching!

 

SSDD

Shutter Island

Shutter Island.

Movie Poster

Movie Poster

Insanity. Psychosis. Delusion. Violence. Murder. Denial.

Mental health is a sensitive subject matter and one demonstrated by veteran thriller writer Dennis LeHane, to have not been fully understood in the 1950s. Adapted to film from the original 2003 novel by Martin Scorcese, his 2010 movie is as chilling as it is true to the original tale.

The story follows US Marshall Teddy Daniels and his partner Chuck as they venture to  Shutter Island, effectively an island-wide prison in the Pacific Ocean, a confine for the criminally insane, to investigate the mysterious disappearance of one of the patients there. But Daniels reveals himself to have an ulterior motive for going there and all is revealed as they are whisked around, experiencing the delusions of the island and its maddened inhabitants.

The tale is plagued with questions; What is really going on in the lighthouse? What secrets are really housed in this dark place? What mad truth is to be found amongst the cruel and the condemned? What really happened to Teddy Daniels? Will they ever got off the island? And who is Andrew Laeddis?

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Whirled around the island, embroiled in a vortex of self assessment and secrecy, the pair attempt to unravel the mysteries, which increasingly to be intrinsic, with Daniels himself.

With Mental Health Awareness Week approaching in the UK (between 13-19th May) there is no more appropriate a time to delve into the twisted labyrinth of Shutter Island.

The simple plot-line and solitary setting lend themselves to a movie translation and veteran legend, film maker Martin Scorsese creates a superb thriller with a stellar cast. Leonardo DiCaprio takes the role of protagonist Teddy Daniels, Mark Ruffalo as Chuck, Michelle Williams as DiCaprio’s wife, Dolores and Sir Ben Kingsley rounding off the talent bomb, in the role of Dr Cawley. Let it never be said that the man does things by halves. This film would not be the same without the quality of acting talent, plucked from around the globe that he has assembled, with the depth and subtlety necessary to pull off such an emotive piece.

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Such a stellar cast of course delivers sterling results, with DiCaprio in particular delivering audiences with an unparalleled representation of a man on the very edge of reason. Bridget Jones move over; such disquiet is not to be mocked. The audience is interred into DiCaprio’s depiction of LeHane’s tortured hero and gripped unrelentingly through 138 minutes of mind bending suspense.

Daniels is a tormented character, in both the book and the movie being plagued with guilt and unrest regarding the death of his wife and children. Haunted by her memory he lived his life in a perpetual state of grief and vengefulness. He displays a man on the very peripheries of right and wrong, truth, fallacy and justice. His inner turbulence is reflected in the wild fervor of the vicious island weather. Despite his apparent resolve, despite all hateful suspicion of the medical staff in residence, his pity, even disgust towards its patients, the mind and past of Teddy Daniels is clearly a most turbulent place to have been. For a federal Marshall and man of the law, his mind is as much in disarray as the patients, his story as much as puzzle as the one he is trying to solve.

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Thematically, Shutter Island, as a thriller/mystery, explores the tragedy of grief and morality, namely a moral fission within ones self. The premature death of ones children is a travesty and the early death of a young spouse, tragic. No parent should have to bury their child, let alone do so beside the love of their life. Without spoiling any of the even more dramatic features of such events, this horror worsens and it becomes clear exactly what events tied in with this to so badly damage Daniels and forever tie him to the island. As is the case with most things in this tale, nothing is ever simple, nor ever as it first appears…

With a strong focus on mental health, the film and book draw near exact parallels. Keeping close to the original story, Scorsese creates an atmospheric, character driven haze in which the lingering effects of deep emotional trauma are investigated. Grief and irrationality can cause shock waves through a life and blame assignment can be both detrimental and the only cure. We are not meant to like any of these characters. We are put on edge, made distrustful, tempered and conditioned to be suspicious of everything, even our own eyes. Both the book and movie have a lingering effect and give a fearful yearning for more.

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Psychiatry is as interesting as it is terrifying. To involve yourself so deeply into the mind of another is a scary thing, and the persons shown here often already have more than one voice occupying the fuzzy space between their ears.

The greatest part of this movie is it’s chilling end line, delivered by DiCaprio; “Is it better to live as a monster, or die as a good man?”

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Read, watch, do both. But rest assured that so long as you experience this, your attitude towards mental health will change. The brains powers of self preservation are extraordinary, and the creation of an entirely new reality is not unheard of. Prepare to be terrified and amazed.

9/10

 

SSDD

Seven Psychopaths Review

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What do you get when you mix In Bruges and the Magnificent 7?

Seven Psychopaths.

Recently released on DVD, this curious mix of thriller and comedy does not disappoint. Quirky, sarcastic, endlessly quotable, an ensemble cast gives this the feel of an indie classic and rated highly with critics. After a four year gap since his debut with In Bruges, director Martin McDonagh reunites with Colin Farrell starring as the token non-psychopath, much as a British movie might be expected to have a token American. A tone of the autobiographical might be seen here, given the long gap between work and writers block of his character. Yet, if this has been the case, it has certainly been worth the wait.

Violence gives way to some truly hilarious, laugh out loud moments as protagonists include an alcoholic Irish script writer with writers block, an ageing dog abductor with a less than pedestrian past, a gangster with a curiously intense adoration for his Shiatsu, Bonnie and an actor-turned-dog-thief-turned-serial-killer.

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This delicious cocktail is enjoyed with the back-drop of sunny Los Angles, though hardly in the conventional sense. We see the desert outlying regions of the City of Dreams, a blank canvas for our peculiar heroes to face off against their pooch-praising nemesis. Like a child’s playground, the barren landscape is filled like a modern day cowboys and Indians, with the misguided capers of Marty, Billy, Hans and Charlie.

This film teaches its audience many things, and it is perhaps its relatability which makes it so appealing. Setting aside the fact that its protagonists are prone to episodes of murderous frivolity, and engage in casual practices of trigger-happy mania, they each contain characteristics we can relate to. There is the family man, the husband, the pal, the grafter. We see a brilliant man, down on his luck, substance abuse, a guy-you-would-have-a-drink-with-but-not-take-home-to-your-mother. Even a dog lover. We have all known, if not been that person. Though, hopefully, it must be said, minus the gangs and guns!

A touch of Hollywood is thrown in, making the whole thing seem like the sort of road trip you pray you would have the nerve to ride to it’s (in this case, bloody) conclusion. Stumbling upon some rare characters in their bumbling attempts to write a script, the cruel injustices of the world are revealed to us. Sometimes people are good, sometimes they are bad. But most of the time we are merely misguided or misunderstood.

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A core value of this film seems to be that everyone cares about something, and we are prone to irrationality and outright bizarre behaviour in our efforts to defend those things. There is a lesson to be learned in accepting this in everyone, and accepting that sometimes, in getting what you want, you may be preventing another from doing the same, and you may well be expected to pay for this, in the long run. Acceptance, of life, of others, of the improbabilities and impossibilities that it presents to us, is a necessary teaching of life, that we all must learn, one way or another.

It is exceptionally rare that such missions lead us to desert shoot-outs with canine-loving gansters, but hey – this is Hollywood!

REVIEW: 9/10

SPOILER ALERT!:

The only improvement could have been to not kill off Christopher Walken!!

 

SSDD