To make the task arbitrarily easier I have also discounted those movies decorated by the Academy earlier on in the year. Using my dog eared collection of ticket stubs I whittled the list down to fifteen movies then to ten, then to three, then finally to one.  The ticket that remained read simply ‘Submarine’.

Released way back in March, Richard Ayoade’s directorial debut seamlessly transported La Nouvelle Vague to Swansea via Wes Anderson’s middle America. A refreshing ‘Indie’ jaunt in a Brit-flick market saturated by shanks, shivs and all round rich person porn, Ayoade’s picture is hipster almost to a fault. Making extensive use of colour filters and lengthy ‘Super 8’ instrumental inserts Submarine is the light to the shade of the equally impressive Tyrannosaur.

Whilst Ayoade deservedly reaped plaudits for his impressive transition behind the camera, the real value here comes from the characterisation. The wonderfully realised characters crafted in Joe Dunthorne’s original novel thankfully survive the transition to 1986, a land of top loaders and Polaroid cameras. In Oliver Tate (Craig Roberts) Submarine has a precocious leading man to rival anything Hollywood has spewed out in recent years. Tate is a pubescent philosopher, shackled to the Earth by the mundanity of teenage life. The flames of his self indulgent ponderings are fuelled by a burgeoning romance with bullying enthusiast Jordana (The excellent Yasmin Paige) and the arrival of new age, ninja guru Graham (Paddy Considine). More often than not, a ‘flagitious’ character who plots the assassination of his girlfriends dog my not translate well from page to screen however, Tate’s inter-textual narration harbours a redemptive quality which might otherwise have been lacking. The resultant product is a narrator of wit and whimsy, his internal struggle played out through external action.   

N.B. It’s at this point that I’ve reminded myself just how much I love this film and have had to get up and put on the special edition Blu-Ray (complete with art cards).

Ayoades decision to transport the narrative back to the eighties pays off with the national nostalgia for the time period held up by the personal nostalgia we all harbor, for those long forgotten first loves. The romance between Oliver and Jordana might be fleeting but in Oliver’s mind it’s as epic as any cinematic romance of old. For that reason alone Ayoade’s visual stylings are just as aplicable at a Swansea bus stop as they might be at the top of the Empire State Building.

If I’m honest, there wasn’t a lot to choose between this film and a couple of others, however, I wanted to write about Submarine for four reasons.

 1) It contains the line of the year; “Thanks for living up a fuckin’ hill”.

2) Paddy Considine sports a mullet like you’ve never seen.

3) Alex Turner’s soundtrack is both hip and heartfelt in equal measure.

4) More people need to watch this film.

5) The first picture from Cowboys and Aliens!
Whilst Scott Mitchell Rosenberg’s graphic novel series retains a relatively cult status for now, chances are, when the film adaptation is released this time next year copies of the genre bending romp will be flying off the shelves. The man in charge of further lining Rosenberg’s pockets is none other than John Favreau, the man who made Iron Man into a phenomenon. Whilst initially rumoured to be another project for The Fav and his go to guy Robert Downey Jr, scheduling issues forced Fav to look further from home, finally settling on none other than Daniel Craig for the lead.

Although only a single image it does typify the novel astutely. A Stetson and a futuristic hand laser gizmo may seem an odd concoction but clearly it works and the same can be said for the entire concept. When Aliens land in 1800’s frontier land, feuding Cowboys and Apaches are forced to unite to save humanity. I can think of no one better suited to helm such a bonkers concept than The Fav and with Lost’s Damon Lindelof on script duties we can expect a perfect blend of wit and weird. If the solitary picture does have a failing it’s that it fails to articulate the truly impressive ensemble cast who will be lending their thespian talents to the pulp wonder. Backing up Craig will be Olivia Wilde (House), Walton Goggins (Justified), Paul Dano, Sam Rockwell, Keith Carradine and Harrison “It’s about time I made a decent movie” Ford. Could be next years District 9.

4)New Tron Legacy Trailer!
Whilst I would never admit it aloud the first Tron Legacy trailer felt like a bit of a letdown. Whilst aged ten, light cycles and space paranoids were enough to keep my nose pressed to the screen and my jaw rested firmly on the floor, the older, more cynical me felt the whole thing seemed a little… shallow. That was of course until Joseph Kosinski unveiled the new, more comprehensive trailer. With more of an actual narrative on show and no sign of Sark or the MCP the trailer seems to hint at the unlikeliest of villains (as opposed to simply Michael Sheen’s Castor).

On top of all this the special effects appear slicker and more polished, especially the digitally de-aged Jeff Bridges. It would appear that Disney’s decision to shift a portion of the effects load over to their computer whiz chums at Pixar has paid off in a big way!

3) Harvey Pekar does Strange Tales!
Like a lot of comic book enthusiasts the Summer sun was darkened by the sad news of the death of indie comic king Harvey Pekar who passed away on the twelth of July. Pekar, the guy who’d already defeated Lymphoma back in the 90’s, documenting it in the hilariously acerbic Our Cancer Year graphic novel was some what of a bitter hero of mine and the thought of a world devoid of Pekar’s cynical musings caused me to reach for my American Splendour Best of. To my pleasant surprise solice came a few weeks later from an unlikely source. In one of their smaller Comic Con announcements Marvel announced a follow up to the popular ‘Strange Tales’ comics. For those of you staring blankly at the computer screen right now the ‘Strange Tales’ mini-series was released last year and featured stories and art work by acclaimed indie artists the world over.

Notable by his absence of course was Pekar. I can only imagine then the roar that went up when it was announced that Pekar had completed an instalment and would be joining the likes of Jeff Lemire, Alex Robinson and Ty Templeton in the follow up due for release in October of this year.

2) The Walking Dead trailer!
Something I’ve been following closely since its recent confirmation is the television adaptation of Robert Kirkman’s hugely popular zombie comic The Walking Dead. Whilst I always thought that the comics would be ripe for a live action adaptation, I assumed the diehard (pun intended) fans would be displeased by anything less than extraordinary. Ever since the announcement that Oscar nominee Frank Darabont (The Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile) this project has been gathering pace. With our own Andrew Lincoln cast as the eponymous Rick Grimes things seemed to be moving in the right direction ahead of the show’s October opening. That having been said I, like many was wholly unprepared for what was shown in the AMC hall.

Whilst the quality of the video itself is sketchy the trailer oozes quality like brains from the mouth of a drooling zombie. The substantial trailer implies that Darabont and co have drawn on the best of recent Zombie movies and amalgamated them into what could prove to be a cohesive and compelling show.

1) The Avengers team up!
Even if you were unaware that SDCC 2010 had taken place chances are you would still have/seen slash heard murmurings about my number one pick. Whilst it would appear that Marvel Studios have difficulty keeping secrets, (The addition of Jeremy Renner and Mark Ruffalo to the cast and Joss Whedon’s director role had been fuel for message boards the world over), they clearly still know how to get people’s pulses racing. Just as things seemed to be quietening down after some modest announcements pertaining to next year’s Thor and Captain America movies the audience were pleased to see none other than Samuel L. Jackson (Nick Fury) take to the stage.

Although I’d be excited to hear him read off of a menu what followed was even more awesome than that. One by one Jackson oh so coolly introduced those lucky few who have been tasked with bringing some of Marvel’s most beloved characters to life. Starting with the excellent Clark Gregg (Agent Caulson) Jackson introduced all the confirmed Avengers including new boys Mark Ruffalo (Bruce Banner lll) and Jeremy Renner (Hawkeye). Whilst the biggest cheer may have been for the ‘Stark-like’ Robert Downey Jr, it fell to Iron Man himself to finally confirm Joss Whedon as the chosen director. As I said before, none of this would really have come as news to those fans present but to see the likes of Chris Helmsworth and Chris Evans finally lined up side by side was more than enough to take the hype to a new level.

Some would argue that Hex has spent the last 30 years as a fringe property at DC comics and they’d probably be right. However, this has not stopped him from cropping up in a huge number of more bankable properties, as well as a number of popular animated series. This, coupled with his 2005 return to comic book shelves has, somewhat inevitably lead to the property being optioned by long time DC collaborators Warner Brothers.

In terms of casting, If Josh Brolin is the good, and Megan Fox is the bad then I guess that makes John Malkovich the ugly. Of course, I wouldn’t dream of casting aspersions over the actor’s appearance more it is the crucial role of Quentin Turnbull, long time Hex antagonist that will require Malkovich to channel the uglier side of his personality. Whilst Brolin has proven his Stetson wearing credentials in 2007’s No Country for Old Men that wagon was steered by the ultra experienced Coen brothers. The fate of Jonah Hex on the on the other hand has been entrusted to the little known director of Horton Hears a Who!

Jimmy Hayward, who cut his teeth as an animator at Pixar finally broke out in 2008 with the aforementioned Dr Seuss adaptation but Jonah Hex is his first foray into live action film making. Yes, on the surface Hayward’s appointment may appear to be somewhat of a gamble in comparison to the other, more experienced directors helming DC’s other properties, think Nolan’s Batman Begins, Singer’s Superman Returns and Martin Campbell’s upcoming Green Lantern but is it may yet prove an inspired choice to task an animator with finally bringing this pen and ink cowboy to the big screen.

If anybody was in doubt over Hayward’s conviction he has assembled an impressive and versatile supporting cast of up and comers who are all surely looking to cement their own burgeoning reputations with some hopefully scene stealing performances.

First off the bat there’s Michael Fassbender who will no doubt be hoping to continue his transatlantic successes with a more mainstream performance than his brief but telling role in Inglorious Basterds. Secondly, in what is probably the most left field bit of casting is Will Arnett, still probably best known for Arrested Development. Whilst I am an unashamed fan of Arnett and his self deprecating comedy shtick, part of me hopes that this time around he is afforded the opportunity to put on his more serious face, if only just to see if he can finally make the leap from the small screen. The trailer also features a brief and seemingly unaccredited turn from the domineering Lance Reddick from the hit TV show… Fringe. Apparently he was in some cop show as well. Finally there’s a supporting role for one of the 2008 Supporting Actor nominees Michael Shannon. Whilst it is unlikely that Shannon will receive any resemblance of the critical acclaim he earned for his part in Revolutionary Road, Jonah Hex may prove a more profitable box office outing.

With the trailer having finally been released the buzz for this comic book western is building steadily. The trailer, which seems to be geared heavily towards the pubescent demographic contains some very shaky dialogue, a large number of explosions and a number of glaringly unsubtle nods to Eastwood’s ‘Man With No Name’. Throw into that mix a number of gratuitous shots of Megan Fox dressing and undressing and you may well have yourself a summer holiday sleeper hit. Whilst it will inevitably be over shadowed by the likes of Iron Man, Robin Hood and Prince of Persia the film’s prodominantly strong cast may just be gifted enough to pull off what is unavoidably, given its source material, a ludicrous tale of Bullets, Broads and slightly unrealistic facial burns. And, lest we forget, Transformers 2 proved that a feature long ode to Megan Fox does not a good movie make. If Hayward can avoid falling into that trap he may well just pull off a rip roaring, 21st century western which makes a few quid on its way.

The release date for Jonah Hex has been brought forward to June 18th

Thinking of non-super superheroes makes you wonder what classifies a ‘superhero’ exactly. I would say a definition of a superhero is a character possessing “extraordinary or superhuman powers” and dedicated to protecting the public. However, Google’s web definition page gets it a bit wrong saying “A superhero is a character in a cartoon or film who has special powers and fights against evil… Superheroes like Batman and Superman.” Find out why that’s wrong after the jump.

Why is this wrong? Quite simply, Batman doesn’t have any special powers at all… He’s just got a lot of spare time and even more spare cash! Years of training and millions of dollars worth of tech makes Batman who he is. Nothing more, nothing less. Just like Green Arrow, who funnily enough is a billionnairre too! Oliver Queen took the mantle of ‘Green Arrow’, a Robin-Hood styled hero who uses his skills with a bow and specially created arrows to fight crime and take down the villians of Star City. I’m not going to mention Arrow’s Kryptonite Arrow… The cheeky scamp teamed up with Batman in the comic “Batman: The Dark Knight Returns” and injured Supes with the arrow to allow Batman to defeat him.

Moving away from comic books, there are other examples of ‘super’ heroes… Take Watchmen for example (OK, so it is a graphic novel but it’s technically not a comic book!) where the only hero (and I use that term loosely) with powers is the awe-inspiring Dr. Manhattan. Typically, a freak accident disintegrated Jon Osterman whilst he was experimenting with an ‘Intrinsic Field Subtractor’ but luckily, within a few months, his conscious was able to reconstruct his body and he could continue his life as Dr. Manhattan.

Other members of The Watchmen included The Comedian, Ozymandias, Silk Spectre, The Nite Owl and Rorschach. These masked vigilantes were outlawed and forced to either retire or work freelance for the US government. All without any extra powers, they were forced to literally fist-fight the bad guys and were subsequently pulled out of retirement to try to stop the end of the world. A pretty big task for a group of middle-aged loners without any powers!

In the world of film, there are even more examples though. If we were to strip away the ‘super’ we’d be left with heroes… Someone without any powers, fighting for the greater good and for what they believe is right.

The first hero that comes to mind is Shaun. A simple sales team leader working a 9-5 in a dixons-esque high street store, bumbling through life taking each day as it comes. After a zombie outbreak, Shaun decides to step up to the plate and battle through a zombie-laden London to rescue his mother, ex-girlfriend and best friend Ed.

You could go even further, classifying Indiana Jones as one of these non-super heroes. James Bond and Han Solo could also be thrown into the mix but we’re talking ‘superheroes’ without powers… Just like ‘Kick-Ass’ himself, Red Mist, Big Daddy and of course Hit Girl. We’ve already got Batman and Green Arrow but who else is there… Green Lantern technically has no super powers, he just wears a ring that gives him powers! There’s Robin and Batgirl as well, all in all there’s plenty to choose from, the main question remains.

Who would win in a fight? Batman or Kick-Ass?

Our money is on the guy with the money.

Thankfully though, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is set in rural Sweden, not Burnley, and while it may be the world’s most blue-eyed-blonde-haired country, the movie isn’t a tribute to white supremacy. In fact, Millennium Trilogy author Stieg Larsson was an ardent Trotskyist, so on the political spectrum sat a good few places to the left of Nick Griffin and his loveable ilk.

Larsson’s communist outlook in mind, it’s hardly surprising that corporationy corporations and Nazis in the story aren‘t portrayed too favourably. The coporationy Nazis are even more rubbish, evidently painted in light conditions similar to those of Christmas at the North Pole circa 10,000BC. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Dragon Tattoo is the story of an investigative journalist (Mikael Blomkvist) who wrote a damning exposé on a big bastard corporationy tycoon (Hans-Erik Wennrström) and his shady business practices. He’s subsequently done for libel, but with six months before he has to serve his sentence is inexplicably summoned to the countryside mansion of Henrik Vanger – another (now retired and reformed) big bastardy corportationy man.

On the strength of his previous investigative work and a tenuous personal connection, Vanger commissions him to look into the disappearance of Harriet, his beloved niece and the only person in his family he didn’t consider a selfish, money and power-obsessed bellend. Henrik reveals she vanished the day of a Vanger Corporation family meeting forty years back and that he’s always suspected one of them had her killed. Accepting the task, Blomkvist starts to unravel a mystery far more complex and blah, blah, blah, you get the idea.

As the original Swedish title Men Who Hate Women suggests, there’s a lot of horribly misogynistic guys in the story too – some of them even corporationy Nazi types to make them XXL-sized arseholes. Noomi Rapace brilliantly plays Lisbeth, a super-intelligent computer hacker with a history of psychiatric issues, who is forced to live under state guardianship – sort of a parole system for mentals. When her existing ‘guardian’ is taken ill, his replacement proves to be particularly odious.

Their resulting relationship ensures she’d make an excellent guest on a spoiler-free Jeremy Kyle show entitled I [------] And [-------] And Got [--------] By [---------] But Took The Bestest Revenge Ever. Let’s just say Graham and the aftercare team’d have their work cut out with Lisbeth Salander. Before long she crosses paths with Blomkvist and they form an unlikely mystery-solving duo. Yet despite their chalk-cheese/Iran-Israel personalities, it works. Surprisingly well. A number of their awkward, stilted exchanges add welcome pockets of comic relief to some otherwise grim and disturbing subject matter.

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is a dark and engaging whodunnit, if not a little trite and at times too convenient for its own good. But then it’s a foreign language film which of course instantly forgives many of its minor shortcomings and by default makes it 25% more highbrow. Beautifully shot and paced far, far better than this review, it’s over two and half hours long but doesn’t drag on. Drag on. Dragon Tattoo is unlikely to disappoint too much, unless you’re sat outside The George enjoying one of those Kick-‘Em-Out sundaes, in which case Leni Riefenstahl’s Triumph of the Will may be more up your street. Just like that new Indian family at number 32. Enjoy.

It was an eyebrow raising announcement to begin with. I don’t think anyone thought he would follow ‘King Kong’ with a controversial family drama. Then Ryan Gosling pulled out last minute because of ‘creative differences’. I for one would have preferred Gosling to Mark ‘Max Payne’ Wahlberg as Jack Salmon, the determined father of a murdered 14 year-old. He brings a more obvious depth to any character he plays, where Wahlberg tends to be pretty one-dimensional. To his credit, this is probably one of his finer performances next to his role in ‘The Departed’. He was commendable during the ongoing investigation scenes, but that’s not suprising considering his resume. It was when the scenes required honest emotion that he came up short, a problem Ryan Gosling would most certainly have not faced. Considering the type of actor Gosling is, when you hear ‘creative differences’ you start to consider the quality of the material.

For the first hour-plus, ‘The Lovely Bones’ is incredibly powerful. You cannot help but fall in love with Susie, our narrator from beyond the grave. Then, just when you definitely have, when she has fallen in love herself, it all goes horrifically wrong. What’s unsettling is that you know it’s coming, but you will her to live anyway. In that respect, the film succeeds with its aim. If ‘The Lovely Bones’ is anything, it is unsettling.

Saoirse Ronan is unfathomably magnificant as Susie. It’s her eyes. Her eyes radiate with honesty and innocence like two burning suns at the centre of her harrowing universe. It’s an absolutely gorgeous thing to see in a performance, and I’ve no doubt that the already Oscar-nominated actress is headed for truly great things. Her sporadic narrations were beautifully voiced over to complete an overall offering that I think is better than the lead performance that will probably seal Oscar gold next month. Bold? I think not. Alas, no nomination was to be had. I don’t think anyone has ever been recognised by the academy twice before the age of 16. Still, her potential is frightening.

One person who did get recognition for their efforts is Stanley Tucci who is equally as affecting as the serial murderer George Harvey. Like last years winner (the late Heath Ledger), he is almost unrecognizable in his role and delivers something that really makes you squirm in your seat. He and Ronan only share one scene, but it is easily one of the most suspenseful and disturbing scenes you’ll see in any film this year. Jackson has built the characters up in a way that seems profound once the story hits its tragic turning point. Unfortunately, it is an emotional climax reached far too early.

Once Susie is dead, the movie splits into two halves. One half being a lengthy murder investigation/family drama, the other being a spiritual and visual feast which is totally pretentious and seemingly Weta-fied for the sake of a bit of Weta-fying. The only thing this really provides is a few pretty images to echo the events and emotions of the half of the story that actually takes place on earth, not on some sort of secluded purgatory planet that offers no sort of religious or spiritual tie-in. It’s all completely fantastical. Saying that, there are constant references to Heaven throughout which makes the whole ‘in between’ concept all the more questionable. The ‘earth story’ on the other hand is delivered with intensity and diligence, but in contrast to Susie’s effects laden scenes, the cinematography is sometimes unexplicably amateur by way of handheld cuts that don’t really make any sense at all. All of the classic, suspenseful, thriller elements are already there thanks to some fine performances, clever dialogue and a wonderful Brian Eno soundtrack, so why compromise it all with handheld closeups that are reminiscent of ‘Cloverfield’?

I hate to say it, but I feel that this was a rather poorly directed film overall. There are moments of brilliance for sure. The production design was particularly interesting, and it was easy to connect with the lead characters on a personal level. All the elements are there, but in the end it is all slightly too fantastical and far fetched to be able to really pluck at your heartstrings. Additionally, there was no need to spend ten minutes on a murderous montage highlighting every life Harvey has taken. I don’t need to see dead children in ditches. Nor do I need to see all their smiling faces as they show up like Ray Liotta from the corn to welcome Susie into ‘Heaven’ once Harvey is outed. It was almost farcical, and I have a hard time believing that it was part of a direct adaptation from the source material. But then, I haven’t read the source material so for all I know I could be criticizing Jackson for something that isn’t wholly his fault. Nevertheless, I found the majority of the visual storytelling to be over the top and unnecessary, eye-popping as it was.

Finally, there’s the demise of the villain. The comeuppance of George Harvey always needed to be violent. After his relentless evildoings, there was no way he was ever going to go to prison (or even worse, get away with it). You’ve heard of a sticky ending? This movie begs for one for 130 minutes. So much so that after the film’s earliest test screenings, Jackson was sent back to the set to shoot a ‘stickier’ end to Harvey’s reign of terror. In this act of unexpected redrafts, Jackson looks to have hurried things along a bit, and in the end we are left with what can only be described as a lazy and obvious wrapup. It comes across as an afterthought that was tossed in when the producers thought, ‘Shit, we haven’t killed our child rapist off yet. Quick, have him trip over the edge of the most randomly placed cliff anyone’s ever seen’. Considering how much we are taught to hate George Harvey over the course of the film, his decline (though gruesome) was still massively underwhelming.

Apart from the acting and select scenes so tense you can hear a pin drop, underwhelming is relatively what ‘The Lovely Bones’ is as a whole. From my understanding, the ‘lovely bones’ represent the strengthened connection between the family members following Susie’s death. Perhaps if the overall connectivity of the narrative mirrored it’s namesake more closely, we would have been left with a memorable period piece. Contrarily, the only real message this film sends is that we should all be excited by the talents of Saoirse Ronan.

First adaptations of books. Then adaptations of computer games, theme park rides, adverts, trailers. Now, Peter ‘Lord Of The Rings’ Jackson has taken on the work of the late, great Belinda Carlsle.

Of course he hasn’t you silly sausages, instead it’s the latest literary adaptation to hit the screens based on the wonderful best-seller, The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold. Prepare for your tears to be well and truly jerked.

When 14-year old Susie Salmon is murdered by her neighbour we follow her beyond the grave. She resides in the “in-between”, wrestling with letting go off the life she had and enjoying her other-wordly freedom with new friend Holly Golightly. On Earth her family crumbles as they try to cope with the grief of losing their Susie.

Only a hat-full of directors have tried to recreate the afterlife on celluloid and the end result veers from the sublime, A Matter Of Life and Death, to the god-awful, What Dreams May Come. If any of today’s modern film-makers are going to pull it off, however, it’s Pete.

And boy does he pull it off. Backed by an incredible performance from the young Saiorise Ronan, The Lovely Bones is that kind of film that never tries to hard to please. Instead it takes you by the hand and gently leads you through horrific moments and happy ones, creepy places and magical ones, all the way through to the end where it places you down, thankful that you took the journey.

Epitomising this idea of ‘never trying to hard to please’ are the effects themselves. As outlandish as they are, they’re never effects for effects sake. Witness the ships in bottles smashing on the shore of Susie’s heaven, encapsulating how her need for revenge keeps her family from healing. Or the terror room of Mr. Harvey taking a bath, a pure depiction of hell.

Back on Earth it’s the little touches that place The Lovely Bones in near-masterpiece territory. Jackson shows the result of almost 20 years of marriage (taking a passage from the middle of the tome and placing it in the first 5 minutes) as a pile of Philosophy books and a passionate fumble under the sheets is replaced by books on Housekeeping and a kiss goodnight. Up‘s montage may win points for showing an entire life, this one manages to be a caustic look on the sacrifice of family life in a little over four seconds.

The exquisite final line of dialogue may not have the impact of reducing you to baby tears in the same way the book does, but if you leave with completely dry eyes, start worrying whether there’s a place for you in the afterlife.

Both The Wire and Jane Austen inhabit a completely different world to myself and the average watcher/reader. From location to dress to language to the complex social hierarchy, it’s a bewildering place to be. Stick with both, though, and you’ll find that in no time at all (four our five episodes and approximately a hundred pages in ) you find that not only do you understand what’s going on, you want to find out what’d going to happen next.

Both are ultimately rewarding, and for first time watchers/readers there will no doubt be a period where you recommend either/both to everyone you meet.

“Pride & Prejudice” is one of those books. You know, those ones, the ones that everyone has read at some point so there are lots of pieces of mis or half remembered plot all over the place. Personally, I read this at uni but reading it again, I fear I may have skipped over some parts as, quelle surprise, I hadn’t started my reading early enough.

I’ve seen the movie(s), caught some of the spin offs and read both Bridget Jones’ diaries, which owe a very large debt to Miss Austen. I’ve even seen Becoming Jane, with Anne Hathaway. Before last week, however, I don’t remember ever sitting down and reading an Austen from cover to cover for entertainment.

It was worth it. Pride & Prejudice is tense, exciting, emotionally involving and, above all, funny. I would like to have met Jane Austen, she sounds like one cool girl to go out with.

A quick plot rundown: Elizabeth Bennet is the second eldest of five sisters, daughter to mother and father at the bottom of the rung in society. Daughters are bad news as the estate gets left to the nearest living male relative, as girls don’t count. Their mother spends most of her time trying to marry off all of her daughters to the highest bidder, ruining an already precarious reputation. Their father keeps himself to himself most of the time, trying to avoid the tantrums of his nervy wife and younger daughters.

From oldest to youngest: Jane is the good, kind one, Elizabeth is the heroine – feisty, independent and generous, Mary is the dull middle one who only likes reading books, Kitty follows whatever Lydia says and Lydia is flighty and foolish.

Elizabeth would like to marry, but for love and not money, although money would be nice. Jane would like to marry for love, and nothing else. As the eldest, these are the girls who have more page time.

Like The Wire, there is a cast of thousands and everyone’s called ten or fifteen different names. Confusingly, Jane is also always called Miss Bennet even though there are four other Miss Bennets. Whenever someone marries they are referred to as their married name without transition, so if you’re not paying attention you need to go back and re-read. That’s another thing in common with The Wire – there can be no skimping on attention, as you won’t have a clue what’s going on if you do.

I was afraid that the love between Darcy and Elizabeth would turn out to be like the ‘love’ story in Wuthering Heights – two people who tortured each other to death ain’t a love story to me – but it wasn’t like that. There were beautiful explanations for everything, from Darcy’s aloof manner to Bingley’s sudden withdrawal from Netherfield. If you’ve read it, that’ll make sense. If not, it probably won’t but I don’t want to explain the whole plot – go and read it for yourself!

It took me a long time to read three hundred pages, a lot longer than it would have normally. Normally I can read about a hundred pages in an hour, depending on interruptions and subject matter. Instead it took me the best part of a week, including all of Sunday, a little bit of the following Monday and Tuesday morning. I think this was because the language was so different to what I was used to, and the type was tiny. It’s also quite dense – the paragraphs are quite long. As I’ve said already, though, about a hundred pages in you settle in and realise that you’re going to have to read everything, and maybe aloud, to understand what’s going on.

However, there will be a bit of it – I’ll try to keep it to this section. Gone, Baby, Gone, is a book written by Dennis Lehane. Lehane also wrote Mystic River, directed by Clint Eastwood and with a galaxy of stars. Gone, Baby, Gone was the directorial debut of Ben Affleck. If you’re in the UK, you’ve probably never seen it as it got a pretty limited release. That’s because the missing child in it looks a little bit like Madeleine McCann. Nevermind that the book was written in 1998 – I reckon that if The Two Towers came out now, it would also have a delayed release.

Anyway, so the book is about two private investigators, Angie Gennaro and Patrick Kenzie. Apparently it’s a sequel, as all the way through there are references to another case which the two were involved in. This was slightly annoying, although I think I’d find it more annoying if I’d read the other book and then had to put up with repetition of prior knowledge in this book.

Amanda McCready is a three or four year old girl who is reported missing by her good for nothing junkie mother. The police, the neighbours and the rest of the family aren’t doing enough, so the PIs are hired to chip in by the aunt and uncle. Over the next few hundred pages, a story unfolds with lots of shady characters and corners for Gennaro and Kenzie to poke around in.

There’s nothing technically wrong with Lehane’s prose, but I found it to be sludgy and slightly boring. After reading Kesey last week, it was disappointing to read Lehane’s clunky dialogue and awkward exposition. Amanda’s age changes between pages – she’s referred to as a three year old on one page and four two pages later.

Besides that, he repeats himself a lot. Like a lot. Like, enough times to fill Wrigley field ten times over. And he loves Boston. And Ireland. Like, everyone’s a Boston Irish. And they love America. And Ireland. Well, you get the idea. Probably the worst part of this was that Lehane thinks he’s a good writer, evidenced in the swagger of his paragraphs.

I also found the characters difficult to tell apart. From the cops to the villains, they all had a 2D, cookie cutter feel about them which meant it was hard putting a personality to the name. Even for the big reveal, I struggled to remember was involved. Helpfully, Lehane reminded the reader of who everyone was. Even the main characters were difficult to pin down – at the end of the book, I knew nothing of Pat and Angie. I had no emotional investment in them because all I knew was that they were private detectives who semi-lived together.

The plot was let down by the sketchy characters and sludgy dialogue, but was still interesting. I can’t go into too much detail because there’s a pretty big twist at the end. Basically, it’s a morality tale about how sometimes justice fails and normal citizens find that they have to do things they think are right, but the law doesn’t. The most pleasing aspect of the book was this grey area between good guys and bad guys – you don’t get very good or very bad guys (or gals), but a caricature of what normal people are.

Another thing that turned me off Lehane was how negative the book was (I know, just read the review for a bit of irony, right?). Of course, in a book about child abductions it’s not going to be rainbows and lollipops all the way, but there were needless niggles and character aspects built in to random people’s personalities. Bubba’s hatred of The Smiths seemed to transcend the character and come straight from Lehane’s mouth, and so didn’t seem relevant or appropriate. Also, I love The Smiths. There were other examples, which have been buried elsewhere in my brain.

Gone, Baby, Gone is not a bad book, but there are millions of better ones out there. My recommendation, if you like crime, is to read Marshall Karp or Christopher Brookmyre.

This angle for the book gives it a whole new level, another perspective that I wasn’t expecting. McMurphy is larger than life, and Jack Nicholson’s performance in the film one of his best because the character was so well drawn by Ken Kesey. The fact that the reader does not get to know his innermost secrets works really well, as Chief idolises him in the same way as the other inmates do. In fact, he’s probably closest to him as their beds are next to each other’s. McMurphy figures out that Chief is not deaf and dumb, but has simply got used to everyone assuming that he cannot speak, and therefore cannot hear. McMurhpy gives him his voice back, and gradually moves him out of the fog that has engulfed him for so many years.

For those who don’t know the story, McMurphy breezes into the ward as a convict in prison for assault and battery, who decided that he would be better of serving his sentence in a comfier mental hospital. While there, he galvanises the other patients as far as he can, setting up poker tables, monopoly, televised sports games and even a fishing trip. Nurse Ratched presides over the ward, and is not pleased that everything is changing. There follows a battle of wills between McMurphy and Ratched where the reader is not always sure which is the patient, the clinically insane.

Mental health is obviously a big theme for the book, and it’s hard to decide sometimes who is struggling with serious issues and who is simply a ‘normal’ person, dealing with everyday issues. Chief sees everyone as machinery, being ‘fixed’ by the faceless Combine until they fall into line in the outside world. Amazingly, this way of looking at things becomes normal very quickly, although there’s still the nagging feeling that Chief is seriously damaged from years of electro shock therapy.

McMurphy validates his hallucinations quite late on in the book. Chief hears a noise under his bed, and looks down to see one of the aides scraping off chewing gum from the bed. I thought it was another one of Chief’s waking nightmares, until McMurphy props himself up on his elbow and asks what he thinks he’s doing down there. This small exchange makes the reader question each episode that the Chief has described – is he really certifiable, or is he seeing things the way they really are?

On the flipside, Nurse Ratched is clearly a few sandwiches short of a picnic. This is even pointed out by one of the ‘sane’ adults, another nurse who runs the Disturbed ward. If Nurse Ratched is meant to be normal and is clearly not, what does that say for the people in her care who are meant to be insane and don’t appear to be?

Kesey is described in the introduction (yes, I read those too) as being part of the Beat generation – Kerouac, Ginsberg and so on – but to be honest I felt that this was more because he was in the right place at the right time (he had a van they could borrow, for example) and less because of his writing. Maybe that’s being unfair – if anyone knows more about Kesey’s involvement with the beats, please feel free to share it. Whether he was on the periphery or not, the writing is beautiful. Chief conjures up nightmare images of people carved open to reveal machinery underneath, clouds of cotton enveloping and disorientating all of those inside. The characters are all sharply defined, from the hapless Billy Bibbit to the closet homosexual and McMurphy’s rival, Harding.

If you’ve seen the film, read the book. If you’ve seen clips of Jack Nicholson as McMurphy on E4’s 100,000 Greatest Actors Ever Countdown Part 5, read the book. If you’re interested in mental health, read this book. I cried like a small child at the end because Kesey created his characters so skilfully and subtly, I didn’t even realise I cared until I finished the last page.