Donnie Darko and Dead Lady Gaga: Happy Halloween

Zombie walking for Beach of the Dead Brighton 2011

For some reason, around this time of year I get an undeniable urge to scare my friends/family/small children by roaming the streets in a horrific costume. Maybe it's payback for all the times I was scared out of my wits as a kid (I just don't like masks, okay?!) or maybe I've just got a charred black evil heart. More likely, it's because I just frickin' love Halloween. Any sort of festival that involves dressing up, eating lots of sour sweets and buying a whole load of pointless plastic crap (glittery spiders, fake cobwebs, cauldrons; you name it, I've bought it from Poundland) and I'm all over that like a Contagion style rash. I'm not sure whether rashes are involved in that new Maaatt Daaamon movie, but all I do know that it looks like the most extensive advert for antibacterial hand gel EVER. Hello, subversive marketing o'clock. I digress. 

My obsession with everything orange, black and pumpkin-shaped shows no sign of abating any time soon. It plays second fiddle only to my penchant for Christmas. Xmas. The single greatest event of the entire year. Tinsel countdown has begun - 55 days to go, fellow elves.

Before we descend into snow-covered mania, back to Fright Night. Unfortunately, IMHO good old Great Britain doesn't give All Hallow's Eve the full commitment it deserves. The streets are patrolled by only a handful of teenagers, smashed on White Lightening and wearing either a Scream mask and a hoodie or girls in what is an even sluttier version of their normal underwear. Yeah, thanks Ann Summers for making it normal for girls to go out looking like the queens of trampville in basques, suspenders and stockings on Halloween. Just so we are clear: THOSE ARE NOT CLOTHES. They are also not particularly scary, which, again IMHO, is kinda the point of Halloween costumes, no? I say make like La Lohan in Mean Girls (any excuse to shoehorn in a reference to the best teen movie ever) and rock up in a truly frightening outfit, featuring fake blood, false teeth and something you found in the back of a charity shop. The idea is for your friends to not want to be in the same room as you. So, great for earning some zombie-points, bad for your social life.

While we are on the subject of movie-films, it has to be said that the Americans certainly do it better when it comes to Halloween. One day, I hope to celebrate it over there, in all it's mental, tacky glory, but until then I will just have to play the party scene from Donnie Darko on a loop, in my head. Ah, Donnie. Never have I known a skeleton onesie to be so alluring. 

Not all Halloween films are suitably magical, however. I made the foolish error of purchasing this cinematic masterpiece from Poundland: 

Yeah, we lasted 10 minutes before we had to turn it off. Sadly, it was the absolutely frightening lack of acting ability rather than the comedy serial killer that was scaring us. Seriously, who kills people wearing yellow Marigolds?! It's got George Clooney in too. He gets bumped off in the first five minutes, in case you are wondering. Sorry to spoil it, but I'm practically doing a public service: do NOT, under any circumstances, watch this movie.

The theme for my personal shindig this year was dead rockstars - yeah, I'm a walking cliche, what of it? - so I'll leave you with a snapshot of Halloween, Brighton-style. That was Saturday - the devil only knows what I'll get up to tonight. I'll either be painting the town black, or sitting at home in raptures listening to Flo's new album, eating leftover pumpkin pie. Either way, I'm just an ordinary ghoul.

Happy halloweening.

GL

I Don't Carry A Gun. I Drive

Let's talk about Drive. Or maybe that should be, let's talk about Drive A Bit More, because quite frankly, this movie has dominated conversation at work and home the past week. Anyone I know who has seen it just cannot get enough - and I'm not just talking about the Gosling-obsessed girls, because every boy I know is also in the grip of Drive-mania.

*Insania by Peter Andre just started playing in my head. For the love of God...

Back on track. I imagine this must be what it felt like just after Back to the Future or Top Gun came out in the Eighties; you know when you are witnessing a movie achieve instant cult status. Considering I was 0 years of age when Maverick and Goose first flew down into the dangerzone I can only relate it to when Donnie Darko fever suddenly gripped everyone. That weird movie enchanted and enthralled anyone who saw it, leaving us all in a wormhole daze.

The Drive situation is similar in that it crept up on us with much less hype and kerfuffle than many other Hollywood productions; a few awesome posters including the statutory Eighties pink handwriting script and some enthusiastic reviews - Rolling Stone: "Damn, it's good." - were all it took to pique my curiosity.

Having seen it, I now totally understand why the reviewers were giddy with enthusiasm. Drive is just about the slickest movie that I have ever seen. I'm not going to give away any of the plot, because in case you hadn't noticed, this isn't Metro or the Daily Mail (spoiler alerts don't seem to come into their modus operandi). I read a quote from Ryan Gosling that said he and director Nicolas Winding Refn wanted to make the perfect film: Pretty in Pink with added violence. I think he just about hit the proverbial nail on its head there. A tale of being on the outside, of observing and envying someone else's life, of getting mixed up with the wrong crowd and events spinning out of your control  - Drive has it all. And Carey Mulligan. And brilliant lines; "You've got five minutes." "I'll see you in four".

I wasn't even that crazy about Ryan Gosling before seeing this - sure, I've seen the Notebook and I most certainly did not bawl my eyes out while writing my boyfriend a four page letter straight afterwards - but after Drive, even said boyfriend casually admitted all the men in the cinema would probably be gay for Gosling. His character - too cool for names, just called Driver - barely speaks, yet has a magnetic presence. In addition, he wears the best jacket in the history of time.

See: people are already writing about this jacket. There are rumours that Urban Outfitters will be making copies of this jacket. It is already getting out of control. All we can think about is Drive.

drivedrivedrivedrivedrivedrivedrivedrivedrivedriveRyanGosling'sjacketdrivedrivedrivedrive.

Did I mention the incredible, electronic, atmospheric soundtrack? Oh yeah, that's also about the best thing since sliced bread. I have been listening to the first four songs on repeat since I saw the movie 10 days ago, and I'm not even the slightest bit bored. Plus I get to stroll around on my commute pretending I'm in a super stylish movie with Ryan Gosling, which is never a bad thing. That's the beauty of a good soundtrack - but there's a whole other post in that. 

I may be no bonafide movie critic, but just take my advice on this one. Go and see Drive. But be warned, it's going to take over your brain.

GL

All images: Drive