This blog began in 1997 as a single news page called Nucelus. In 2005, during a long wait to move into a new house, I decided to learn some php and MySQL and write my own blogging system, which became inkyBlog and which now powers this, my own Webbledegook blog.
Thank you to my brother, Murray Ewing, for help with some of the more challenging aspects!
It's one of those magic moments on film that hits you totally. The atmosphere is snapped back when Watanabe's companion for the night jumps up saying "That's the spirit!", turning emotional awe into a laugh.
Linda is an American researcher who is making fascinating discoveries on Edna Purviance (Chaplin's leading lady 1915-1923, see the amazing ednapurviance.org) and we added a few more little bits thanks to the collection (white gloves donned), which I have been wanting to see since the days of my now defunct ChaplinUK website and its Edna section.
The festival itself was wonderful. We met up with some old Chaplin Society friends including Dominique (and Emeline) from the south of France, and Dave Johnson who runs Famous Flying Films (check out The Koala Brothers on Wednesday mornings, BBC2), as well as Peter Jewell of the Bill Douglas Centre. The festival itself consisted of short discussions with Paul Merton, Carl Davis and Kevin Brownlow and the film showings, of course, all accompanied live by the London Philharmonic Orchestra and conducted by Carl Davis - 'City Lights', 'The Circus' and 'The Kid', with the shorts - 'The Cure', 'The Adventurer' and 'The Immigrant', as well as rare screenings of 'How To Make Movies' and 'Kid Auto Races'. The Festival Hall was packed every night with everyone in stitches, absolutely the best way to see Charlie Chaplin.
Charlie and Edna in The Immigrant (1917)
The day started with me getting my tax bill. This was very nicely countered by the next piece of post - The Girly Comic issue 4. Every strip was a good read, but the prize goes to Mitzi's rat tale, which was just terrific. The two jobs I got out the way were the almost final stages of two theatre poster designs and logos - one for Jack the Ripper and one for Godspell. That means I can have a relaxing Sunday... finally.
"...It is not just ambitious but it works and with élan. The different levels of the story and their attendant styles lend a tremendous feeling of depth to the whole book..."
In fact, the whole day was crammed with people and it led to me being a bit woolen-headed, so apologies if I was in any way on auto when I met you! More time to talk to people would have been nice, and more space too, but you can't have it all. What I did have, thanks to Jason Cobley (of BAM!), was some space on a table to sell Rainbow Orchid, which did really well, and I thank everyone who bought it and everyone who had generous words to say about it. It was nice to see such an incredible creative buzz from the self-publishers, of which there were many, all genuine and not a hint of geekiness (I don't have anything against geekiness, there's a little geek in all of us).
I had no time to go to any of the panels, unfortunately. And, despite taking my camera, I forgot to take any pictures, but I did do my first convention sketch for David Goodman, and it really was an awful piece of work, for which I apologise, David!
The day was loud, and the bar wasn't much quieter in the evening, but at least we could sit down and shout to each other, our table consisting of Shane Chebsey, Paul Harrison (and his wife), Jason Cobley, me (and my wife, and two friends we were staying with in Greenwich), Colin Mathieson and Dave West. Jason, Shane and myself (and friends) later had a nice dinner at an Italian down the road.
I had a great day, and that was all thanks to the friendly people I met and talked with. For more information on the comics festival, just click here.
I used to work as a porter in the conference section of a Gatwick hotel. It was on the second floor, and when everyone went home at 5 or 6pm, the entire floor was deserted and silent. My late shift finished at about 10pm, and my last job was to lock the conference rooms and switch the lights out for the whole floor. Where were the master light switches? They were right at the end of a corridor, into the concrete stairwell and into a claustrophobic cupboard, where after pulling down all the massive switches, you had to walk back along the pitch black corridor, past all the locked doors (I'm sure I locked them all, I'm sure I did...). Try as I might to think of nice things, The Shining always popped into my head, especially the twin girls and the woman in the bath. It was a long corridor, but I couldn't run, because that would make imagination real.
I first became aware of Yves Chaland when 'Le Testament de Godefroid de Bouillon' appeared in Heavy Metal magazine in 1987 and I was swept away by his mastery of the clear line and the quirky but adventurous plot, not to mention the fact that Lombard bore more than a passing resemblance to Tintin! On my recent Paris trip I purchased volume 1 of the Chaland collection, and soon learning the books had been translated, I found volume 2.
The second collection contains two stories, 'Holiday in Budapest', set during the Hungarian revolution, and 'F.52', which takes place aboard an atomic super-plane on its way from Paris to Melbourne. Chaland's artwork is beautiful and he really loves to play with the reader, you just don't know where the story is going to turn next. The first strip mixes tight comedy with some quite black moments, including the suicide of an AVO officer, but a little bit of sex also creeps into the stories in a subtle way - just right. 'F.52' is the stronger tale, and is really quite remarkable. It echoes Hergé's idea that he wanted to do a Tintin story set entirely in an airport. Chaland goes a step further and places the action entirely on an aeroplane. Many authors might make the spy strand of this story the main element, but Chaland keeps this just about bubbling away in the background, turning our main attention to the mix up of two little girls and a particularly scary couple who seem to live in a demented world of their own. The scene where the father releases the ramp and the golden sun streams onto him is fantastic.
Yves Chaland's artwork looks as though it was created in the 1950s as it exudes the look of an idealised version of that time period in style and atmosphere, with more than a passing nod to La Nouvelle Vague. Actually they were created in the 1980s, and Chaland himself died in a car crash at the age of only 33 in 1990.
It was a hugely enjoyable experience which caused laughter of the silly (sometimes groaning) type practically all the way through. The three main performers were very good, especially Toby Sedgwick who was basically cast as the minor player, but his physical acting and facial expressions were excellent, and his harmonica spot whilst attached to five French revolutionaries was gut-achingly funny. The slapstick aspect of the two main performers (Alessi and Keaton) was not as polished, and perhaps reflected the fact they've been doing it so long and the technique had taken over, but this was an advantage as far as comic timing went, which was pinpoint. A lot of their performance relied on the affection we all had for Eric and Ernie and it worked well. The special guest (there is a mystery guest at every performance) was revealed to be Neil Morrisey, who, just like the guests on Morecambe and Wise, was there to feed the comedy of the main act.
Very nice meal before hand, by the way, at Alduomo.
Read it by clicking here.
I've been meaning to update my little photo-through-time Flash animation on the about me page for some time now, and have done it at last. Now you can press buttons, and I have scooped as many years as I could. So, visit my biog page, or click here to see it on its own.
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