Paul Sherwen dies age 62

It is a terrible loss to the world of TV and cycling that Paul Sherwen has died of heart failure aged just 62.

He was still at an age where his passing can be termed as tragic and no longer will his hammer be put down again. Together with the king of the cycling airwaves, Phil Liggett, they formed a formidable team as good as any other pairing in a broadcast sport. They were like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid as they gave theatre to the Tour when it first came to TV screens in the 80s.

Their place in history was fortuitous as they were in the right place to hold together the Channel 4 gamble of covering the Tour when it was still a minority sport. They were the days before live coverage and sadly the rise in the sport was a puncture of ambition for them when the high altitude stages of TV commentating really got into gear.

Together they made stage racing enthralling even when nothing ever happened. A full day in the saddle was unmissable and Stephen Roche used to stick to his hotel room and watch their highlights.

When the truck of ITV came along, Sherwen and Liggett were pushed to overseas duties and their format of commentating graced the nascent audiences like Canada and South Africa.

I liked Sherwin’s style. He stayed in the sport after retiring from being a professional and he was the first to give us the tingle of what it might be like inside the peloton. He may have rested on his background but his voice was always in the leading pack as they sprinted off to the finish line. Sadly for the whole of cycling, that finishing line has come all too quickly.

Former Leeds United keeper dies

The former Leeds United goalkeeper, Dave Stewart, has died aged 71.

Dave Stewart only played 55 times for Leeds but it was across two periods. One under Don Revie (along with the great players of that period) and subsequently through the doldrums via Clough, Armfield and Adamson. He is most famous for being between the posts in the disappointing 1975 European Cup Final when regular keeper, David Harvey was unavailable through injury.

Now, the reason I post this obituary is that I interviewed Dave for the book ‘Where Are They Now’ The idea behind that book was to speak to and not rehash players who made Leeds what they are today. Dave entered the spirit of the book straight away coming forward with jocular references of working as a carpet fitter and selling pub glasses. It might have been all beneath Dave but to his credit he joked about the glory days as much as he did the new career he had as a stone-setter as a jeweller in South Wales.

Dave ended up working for a jewellers called Spencer Morgan, and spent his spare time after retirement playing golf and painting – he was a keen artist.

If you ever stood and witnessed Dave play for Leeds you are better than me at appreciating his value to the team over five years. You must remember though that Don Revie never signed just anyone. Overall, Dave struggled to get first-team appearances but pushed Harvey and Mervyn Day for the number one position week-in, week-out.

Rest in peace.

 

 

 

 

FA’s own goal over Rooney

News about Wayne Rooney getting a call-up to the England team is a tendentious decision which does not do the honour of playing for one’s country any justice. If a recall can be justified on any level then it is not here. Rooney holds numerous records for the national team – record scorer, record number of caps for an outfield player – but if he is to be awarded another appearance then it will devalue all the other caps.

Rooney is a player who last played for his country two years ago. He was well past his best even then and effectively walked off the pitch against Scotland with the words  “I had now decided to retire for good from international football.” So much for that. Rooney becomes a dilettante of the playing arena and should leave the laces of this comeback untied.

Yet if he gets his wish then what about the other England heroes who have unfinished business with the England team? Surely The FA must now give caps to Garth Crooks or Steve Bruce who never once pulled on the England shirt when their services would have been valued. Then there’s Jimmy Greaves who was robbed of caps in the 1966 World Cups Finals – get him back up front – along with Paul Mariner, Frank Worthington and even Allan Clarke – they all deserve another shot. Michael Owen fell short of earning his 90th cap and so he might be interested in breaking into that exclusive club – besides, the game is only against the US (will they have Trump in their side?).

Alas, these sporting comebacks even for ninety minutes are more to do with branding and marketing. The sporting solecism of bringing back Lance Armstrong with the Astana cycling team in 2009 was about marketing and TV coverage. If the money was right then Ricky Hatton would surely enter WWE.

Away from the sporting arena, this hidden agenda of awarding talent and valour for an altogether less transparent nature was never more in evidence in 1953 when Winston Churchill actually won (embarrassingly gifted) the Nobel prize for Literature.

So awarding Rooney and his chevelure the last chance honour with an England appearance is an uneasy and grave error of judgment.  It’s a slap in the face to every England player past, present and future and devalues the traditions.

Rooney is an erstwhile player so let’s not bring him out of international retirement.

The Apostle has no art

Gareth Evans turns his martial arts back on the genre of film that made his name. The Apostle, a period horror is, therefore, a gamble which I do not think pays off. I see Raid 3 on the horizon.

The film is a thinly-veiled cousin of the Wicker Man – set on a remote island surrounded by a bunch of weirdos who have their own religion. No Edward Woodward here but a delicate and exposed performance from Dan Stevens whose mission is to find his sister.

This overran in screen time for me (138 mins). Too rambling and uncertain of its high points. The film was gruesome and murky thought Michael Sheen (and his brutal haircut) should rejoice with an unbiddable role as a murder some preacher. I spotted my favourite character of all time (The Thick of It’s Jamie) and he played a bit part as a wondering (non-swearing) minstrel of a servant to the devil preacher. They all have secrets and the one in his film is how I sat through it.

All told, a mismatch of entertainment and certainly some legerdemain to get the audience to think it is the film which delivers. I wanted it to be better but it fell flat.

The Predator returns to earth

Do not get me wrong. I was a fan of the original Predator and a fan of Shane ‘Lethal Weapon’ Black. His involvement in the 1987 version, and subsequent rise to fame as a screenwriter should have given me an exotic returnee to the franchise – having completely shunned the ones in between.

So with my 16-year-old son in tow I was not completely overwhelmed by the results yet not insulted by its potentially benign offering. That’s saying it was OK.

What I liked was down to Black. It felt as if the reboot had been just one step from the Arnie version and there were moments of homage to the original. Indeed, music by the excellent Alan Silvestri was a welcome sound as if everyone was now pulling for some kind of artistic result. It wiped clean the input of marketing men and overall Shane has come up with a decent movie big on blood and death, lean on tension.

He was however probably given too much freedom as the action went from scene to scene without much thought about its inclusion. Having an alien dog as a man’s best friend was as odd as the squad of army rejects. The comedy was interjected to bring warmth and it worked on occasion. I think Shane Black has real talent but he errs to the light side of filming which dilutes and real tensions and the action (and there was no real great ending) was without the ingenuity or plausibility of its big brother.

It’s one for the real fans but a lot better than versions 2, 3, 4 and 5. This may be getting itself ready for the TV spin-off.

The art of marketing a script

The role of the screenwriter is not just to write and rewrite. The real value of what has been painstakingly put together is in the marketing, and that is as difficult, if not more so, than the writing.

My latest film script, The Syrian Heart, is with 20 agents. It has been in their inbox for one month and nothing has whetted the appetite so far. Not that this is the end of the matter but it is the writer (even one tied to an agent) who has to push the marketing buttons to give or place the script where it should be.

In the appraisal that I have had so far the de facto rejection is possibly AI generated. We’re not taking on new clients (not really what I after). I once had a meeting with a London film producer who gave me the odds of a newby screenwriter. He told me the process his company went through in their hunt for new scripts: firstly he would receive 100 scripts. Of them, 3 would make it. Of those (and put them into another bunch of 100), 1 gets further scrutiny. In the end, the company make three films a year and all of them came from a three-picture deal with the agent who manages author Wilbur Smith.

There seems to be a businessman that is needed as subtext in every writer’s script. Some kind of business plan or investor chronicle that sits between the lines of why a script might make money. That’s why I consider collaborations as the best way to get scripts over and above the skip of scripts that exist.

I have taken The Syrian Heart to a handful of agents who represent the actor who would play the main role. They all like what they saw and so with one part of the triumvirate in place (the other being the director), then Hollywood might take notice.

The Syrian Heart in a Syrian world

Phase two of the marketing of my film script The Syrian Heart is going well. Agents have been contacted and film producers are falling over themselves to at least learn of a script with an interesting angle. 

I started considering how my future in scriptwriting was more about a body of work than the single project, no matter how good or complete script #1 had become. Noticing how the writer of Seven (Andrew Kevin Walker) took at least three years before his story became a living, breathing entity, then he was already through several other scripts before Seven made his name.

The undertaking of a new project is not something the writer takes lightly. Did Van Gogh paint on a whim? Certainly not and whilst his work was more prolific than say, Shane Black, the Dutch painter is nonetheless only known for a few of his paintings.

A script can take a year. It can take longer. The Syrian Heart, from start to finish, took about 12 months and finally I am happy to let it go into the world of scripts, the script mountain of ideas that somewhere circulates on the desk and in-boxes of film producers.

My next project has no title but the first draft is already in its early stages. The story or five handed proposal is in place and I will consider the structure of a script for this 100-page goal. Because it is structured, it does not mean to say it will be better than The Syrian Heart. There’s not a producer I have pitched this to who has said it is rubbish. On the contrary, my foot in the door has always been the premise.

It’s the story which will ultimately make or break the script because as with Jaws, as with Schindler’s List, even if the script sucks there’ll be other Hollywood writers ready to come in and finish the business end of the paperwork.

The Hitman’s Bodyguard needs a bodyguard from the critics

I implore you to stay away from this dreadful, woeful film unless you are studying how to make dreadful, woeful films.
Somewhere through the making of The Bodyguard’s Hitman, it must have morphed from the film it was meant to be – a classy thriller – into raging, banal comedy. Ryan Reynolds comes off the set on his latest ad for fibre optics and keeps the same sense of acting in place rendering the film a misfiring and badly calculated collection of actions pieces.
And yet the cast was so good. Samuel L Jackson as the hitman, Salma Hayek, and Gary Oldman (have a word with your agent).

The plot, as old as the oldest joke, takes its measures from Midnight Run – that excellent cop taking an accountant to testify in court – and mixes with next generation Lethal Weapon. On all levels it misses. There was just no enjoyment in this. The level of profanity makes its 15 rating a slight embarrassment (as if the certification board could only sit through ten minutes of the movie) but it was what I term ‘ugly’ dialogue.
There was plenty of action which ran out of steam and the tone of the movie was misjudged. The worst moment is when the police insider or mole as they call him, actually speaks to the villain from inside the police headquarters. Now, that’s why the police don’t know who the mole is.
Dumb, dated, and nonsensical. Stay clear.

 

 

 

 

 

Free Fire with bullets taking centre stage

So, Channel Four leave it until Easter weekend to bring out the mad feature, Free Fire – a film so strewn with shooting that it could have been sponsored by the NRA. Fittingly then this bring and buy sale for guns, goes wrong and mayhem ensues.

Set in Boston (not Lincolnshire), the story goes that two opposing gangs – one selling guns, the other buying  – meet in a deserted warehouse, brokered by the miscast Armie Hammer. There, the South African seller – a stereotypical middleman, and a faction of Irish -IRA sympathisers do the deal.  Let’s just say it gets out of hand and the shooting overwhelms the last hour of the film.

This is a nasty firing-fuelled orgy of action where the best-supporting action will be a handgun and whilst the plot was interesting – the shooting proved too confusing. At first, it was simple to spot who was shooting who but amid the gunfire then it all got a bit distracting as allegiances changed and villains had impromptu conversations.
I’ve never been in a gunfight or been shot but it seems bullet to the body will not kill you but just harm you enough to keep on shooting until the end credits roll.
I would not put people off from seeing this film as there was much to admire about the concept. It was mostly set in a single building, and there was never going to be much emphasis on the dialogue. You’ve probably guessed it that there are a few casualties as the film progresses but it is a film where I can say this is overshot with Bullets.
I must say the pairing of Ben Wheatley and his wife, Amy Jump, are going places. This could have been a disaster but the casting, apart from Hammer, carried the film from plot to grave and because of the way the characters are introduced to audiences then there’s some understanding of where they were in the film and the role they play. So, take out the shooting (which is a considerable portion of the film) and this is a fine thriller. The one-dimensional aspect of the gun-ho bursts outlook always gave the film a block – as if it got in the way of what could have been a much better viewing experience yet without the shooting this could not have been the film they set out to make. I will give this 6/10.

Tom Cruise acting into Oblivion

I don’t read other folk’s review but this now comes into my domain because if its Channel 4 debut. It wasn’t convincing and I would suggest films titles that go wrong could have a detrimental effect on the star’s career. Remember Matt Dillon in Crash? Exactly. So, even though Oblivion isn’t a great film, Tom Cruise’s career was able to absolve the blip. It’s the same as me picking up a parking ticket, which doesn’t mean I’m not a good driver. Cruise has proved he’s big box office yet this sci-fi outing is not his best film by far.

It seems that Oblivion was the film Cruise had to make to fulfil his sci-fi goals, and yet it seems hasty that he put his A-lister weight on a thin and unsatisfying venture. Earth is deserted and the residents have all but decamped to Saturn. The planet’s only use is the water is possess and Cruise is the repair engineer taking on the job of keeping giant drones in the air to protect the enormous water suckers.

So in a predictable turnaround, he joins forces with the handful of humans left defencing earth defeats the superior enemy. Did I mention the love interest? There is one but the actress is hardly a pure fit for Cruise whose boyish superhero charm has him more occupied with human salvation than first dates.

There were some rare moments of silliness wrapped up in a second rate action sci-fi. The formula for box office madness is evaporated as quickly as the water and this will ever be a film where the budget and explosions take centre stage. It was a stylish endeavour in terms of production and it sat neat whilst all else treaded space age water.

It’s just OK. Slightly boring but Cruise does bring a certain margin of watchability and ultimately there was too much of what he does best onto a project that was too short of film scaffolding. The fans will still love this but after War of The Worlds, Edge of Tomorrow and Minority Code, Oblivion will fall just into that.