'Executive Producers'

A while ago I was talking about Rio and his new Manchester restaurant venture, Rosso. A sideline, we assumed, for a man with a bit of cash to spare. And why not – footballers, after all, need to find something to do with the thousands of pounds they are given each week and once you’ve got the cars, the house, the clothes, the holiday homes, the jewellery, some more cars, another holiday home and a posh mobile phone to take pictures of yourself with, what are you to do with it? Buy a stake in a restaurant is one idea, evidently, as is fund a movie, an idea Rio and his mate Ashley Cole came up with. They’re listed as ‘executive producers’ on the credits for Dead Man Running, a ‘gangster flick’ (according to the blurb) that stars Danny Dyer and Curtis Jackson (50 Cent). They also part financed the film, which probably better explains their involvement than the title ‘executive producer’, but let’s not split hairs.

The reason this has come to my attention today is that they are holding some publicity stunts around the country, yesterday in Manchester, for which they are working up hype by claiming to be ‘giving away’ £5,000 cash. Under the title of ‘competitions’ on the film’s website, they state: “£5,000 will be dropped in Manchester Arndale Centre on Monday 22nd February”. What actually happened, as the video below shows, is that a number of small pieces of paper, purporting to be real money, were dropped from the balcony in the Arndale with the express purpose of causing an excited reaction from the crowd and making people look as desperate as possible.

Reports followed that a very small number of the pieces of paper were real money (£5 notes) and most were ‘fake’ money, with a picture of Danny Dyer on them. So basically the people behind this film – very wealthy people who earn their money by virtue of the obsessions and fanaticism of many – have decided to promote it through a viral campaign that demeans and patronises the very members of the public that they not only rely on for their income but also hope will be the ones who go out and buy the DVD of their film. Have we really reached a point where rich sportsmen are mocking the general public by throwing money at them to see what entertainment will result? And fake money as well, to make it all the more degrading, reducing them to peasants scrapping around on the ground for whatever tit bits the rich deem unnecessary for their exuberant lifestyles. It’s disgusting.

I blame the Daily Mail.

Gallagher vs Kay

The big story of this week has been, of course, the Brit Awards; that annual congregation of all things wrong with the music industry, where label types have a competition to see who can ruin their septum the quickest and the pop stars of the minute get to dress up posh and appear drunk on TV at the after party. I didn’t watch it, I must confess – I weighed up the options and decided to spend my time more productively and spent the evening cleaning the house with a cotton bud.

Anyway, I am sufficiently aware of proceedings from the evening, mainly through web-based media outlets, to know that Robbie Williams was there, JLS did something and Peter Kay called Liam Gallagher a knob head. Something to do with Liam throwing his microphone into the crowd after an acceptance speech that consisted of the following: “The best fans in the fucking world. Live forever.” Eloquent as ever and, judging by the photos, with all the joy of a rotting corpse, as is his now very tired wont. Here he is, blue tinted spectacles and haircut from mum on full display:


Strong look. Kay’s retort was a simple ‘What a knob head’, which the crowd apparently loved. As most were there to see what colour hair bands JLS were going to be wearing it’s hardly surprising, is it? The story doesn’t end there though as a public response has now apparently been issued by Liam, through the medium of Twitter, the following arriving on his personal account yesterday:

“Listen up fat fuck as a real northerner I was brought up 2 say shit 2 people's faces not behind their back. Live forever LG.”

His people evidently not being quick enough to point out that Twitter is about as far from ‘2 people’s faces’ as one could get. I suggest stop now, Liam. If you don’t like Brit nonsense, don’t go. And if you don’t want to be made to look like an idiot, don’t act like one.

FACtory

I have thus far kept all talk of the new FAC251 to the main site, because it’s more news than what you might call ‘Blog Fodder’. I went to the party last Friday though and thought I’d share some observations that are more in tune with this little space than they are for the front page.

I liked the club, for what it’s worth. I also liked the free bottles of beer they gave me. And I liked chatting to Howard Marks, for all of about three minutes. That wasn’t chatting to him in the allotted press time, by the way, or with a dictaphone in my hand. It was at the bar and he too had apparently been enjoying the free bottles of beer. And whisky. And lots of other things. Here he is:

Hi Howard. You, err, probably don’t remember me but I’m the one who was talking to you about your book and the hash factory in Afghanistan. I get like that when I’m a bit drunk. (That’s a photo I nicked off the internet, by the way, not one I took on the night. I didn’t have a camera with me and my phone is just that – a phone, not a camera. Yes, I’m still on 2001 technology.)

Moving on, there were also lots of other people in there who looked like I should know who they were. Thankfully I had some new friends on hand to point out so-and-so from Coronation Street and such and such from Hollyoaks. I don’t remember their names and nor would I recognise their faces, but them I’m hardly a showbiz reporter. I’d make a pretty crap one if I was.

I’ll leave you with a little taster from the evening, courtesy of someone in the audience with a phone made after 2001 – this is Peter Hook and friends playing Transmission by Joy Division:

Fawlty-versity

Students. Crazy, aren’t they? Well, they used to be before they had to start paying their own tuition fees – it’s all a bit serious now; now they’re actually paying themselves. They apparently still have time for some wacky student activities, however, judging by the latest from the University of Manchester. The MEN headline read, “Feminist fury at blokes’ club for ‘all things male’.” The club in question is actually called the ‘Masculinity Exploration Networking and Support (MENS) group’ and, according to its founder, was simply set up to ‘challenge blokeish stereotypes’.

That didn’t stop the overly-sensitive feminists grabbing the headlines though. I’ll quote the MEN again: “Feminist students claim the Masculinity Exploration Networking and Support (MENS) group – promotes 'beard-growing contests', 'beer marathons' and macho culture.” The group claims it’s being misrepresented and is actually concerned with highlighting often overlooked male issues, such as ‘male depression and male-on-male violence’ and lists activities such as ‘fund-raising, health-promotion, and providing emotional counselling’. That’s a smokescreen, according to the detractors, for a Men’s Society concerned with ‘Self Betterment’. Those stupid men and their desire to better themselves, eh?

The proposed activities that seem to have caused the most backlash, and are being held up as examples of what a disgraceful society this is, include ‘(visits to) Top Gear shows, gadget fairs, beer drinking marathons and Iron Man competitions’. So basically harmless events for relatively niche interests that people – mainly men – enjoy going to and participating in. It reminds me of a particular exchange from the masterpiece that is Fawlty Towers:

Sybil Fawlty: [to a customer who has just given Basil a tip for a horse race] Basil doesn't bet on the horses anymore,
[to Basil]
Sybil Fawlty: do you?
Basil Fawlty: No, that particular avenue of pleasure has been closed off.
Sybil Fawlty: And we don't want it opened up again, do we?
Basil Fawlty: No, you don't dear.