I saw Shame on the evening of 1st January 2012. Having drank excessively more than I should have the night before whilst roaming the bars of lower east side Manhattan, I’d been kept in bed all day by my hangover. At around 5pm I emerged from my slumber and we managed to walk to a diner, where I failed to eat a burger and fries. On the walk home we passed the Sunshine Cinema, apparently something of an art-house landmark in NYC. Anyway, faced with a choice between A Dangerous Method and Shame, neither of which we knew anything about, we went for the latter. An excellent choice – not just because it’s a great film, but also because it’s all about our holiday destination, NYC, and includes the second-most hummed song of the trip, sang by Carey Mulligan (the first being Downtown, if you care) …

Steve McQueen’s Shame is a bleak but compelling portrait of Brandon, a dysfunctional, emotionally-alienated sex addict. Beautifully shot and expertly directed, it features outstanding performances from Michael Fassbender and Carey Mulligan.

Brandon (Fassbender) is a slick young executive living in New York, outwardly successful but internally tormented by his compulsive urge for casual sex. He is reminiscent of Christian Bale’s Patrick Bateman from American Psycho - professionally suave and together, personally slightly unhinged and heading for disaster (albeit not to the same extent!). When troubled sister Sissy turns up at his flat and intrudes on his well-ordered routines, Brandon is forced to confront his problems more directly, and things begin to unravel.

Fassbender delivers an Oscar-worthy performance, superbly portraying Brandon’s vulnerability, loneliness and unsatisfying existence in the heart of Manhattan. And Mulligan complements perfectly as the fragile Sissy, herself battling personal inadequacies and the siblings’ shared, troubled past.

McQueen crafts the tale through lingering close-ups and long takes. There are graphic scenes of sex and nudity, but they are rarely erotic, presenting both Brandon’s extreme behaviour and his joyless and introspective isolation.

At times Shame is slow-moving and McQueen offers no easy resolution to the issues raised. Indeed some criticism seems to arise from the fact that McQueen makes no attempt to understand or resolve Brandon’s situation – merely presenting a standstill look at his life, a snapshot – neither beginning at the beginning nor ending at the end. This snapshot in itself however is worthy of praise. Driven  by star performances, McQueen has made an intensely dark and gritty second feature film.

One that Lightroom did let me export – Manhattan from the Top of the Rock (Rockefeller Center)

It’s early 2012, I’m back from New York. I’ve been quite slow in going through the photos from the trip – my computer has slown to a crawl as it enters old age, meaning that Lightroom takes far longer than it should to open, let alone let me edit photos.

Also, my thoughts have moved onward – onward ever onward – to holidays for 2012! Anyway I shall try to write more soon, or at least put up some photos and thoughts from New York – the greatest city in the world (Tokyo has been pushed down my list into number 2 spot).

S

Rum Diary is the semi-autobiographical account of Hunter S Thompson’s time as a journalist on ‘The San Juan Star’, an ailing newspaper in 1960′s Puerto Rico. It pitches Thompson into a world of money, greed and dubious morality, all ramped up and skewed by the island’s American inhabitants’ excessive alcoholism and occasional drug taking.

I found it to be entertaining and funny, if a bit slight to be described as an unqualified success. For one thing it lacks sufficient characterisation. Depp is perfectly placed to play his hero, having lived in Thompson’s basement for a number of years. But while his turn as the lead is deadpan and convincing, the supporting cast come across as rather one dimensional accomplices.

Despite this it succeeds in recreating the mood of Thompson’s novel – of 1960s Puerto Rico, an era long gone when real estate magnates tried to colonise this, well, colony of the United States, and America feared the communist menace of Moscow. Also, it is pretty funny. Bruce Robinson, coaxed out of retirement by Depp, brings some Withnail and I moments to the tale, while there are both frequent funny one-liners and hilarious sequences of slapstick humour that made me laugh more than I expected.

Rum Diary has been described in some quarters as a Depp ‘vanity project’, which I find a bit harsh. Depp was a close friend and confident of the late, great Gonzo journalist, and Rum Diary is a labour of love in honour of his departed friend, not one of vanity. Having read negative reviews, I wasn’t expected much – Peter Bradshaw, who I have only ever disagreed once with (Tree of Life - no way does that movie deserve five stars), gave this two stars – a measly score. Yet I, for one, found it a perfectly entertaining adaptation of the novel, one that captured both the mood and the madness that was Hunter S Thopmson.

I read the Rum Diary seven or eight years ago – I didn’t know that it was actually Depp who persuaded Thompson to publish it in 1998. After seeing this movie, I plan to dig out this gem of a novel – and would encourage others to do so, whether or not you get around to seeing the film.

Le père de mes enfants is a thoughtful, poignant and beautifully crafted tale based on a true story. It is superbly acted, particularly by its younger cast, and poses challenging questions about the importance of business, family, the nature of happiness and the stresses and strains of life, while also providing sumptuous cinematography of central Paris. It’s hard to talk about the plot without giving away a key plot point, so suffice to say if you seek this out you will be rewarded.

The Ides of March is an intelligent political drama featuring an ensemble cast that includes Ryan Gosling and George Clooney, who also writes and directs. It is well paced and cleverly scripted, even if its message is nothing new.

Clooney plays well-groomed Governor Mike Morris, a presidential hopeful who is closing in on the democratic nomination for the White House. Supporting him is his ‘brain trust’ Stephen (Ryan Gosling), the man behind the man. As Stephen gets involved in a compromising situation with intern Molly (Evan Rachel Wood) and the political games of two party advisors (Philip Seymour Hoffman and Paul Giamatti), his idealism is tested and his innocence is lost amid Machiavellian struggles for power.

Ides of March is well written and smartly directed. Its sharp dialogue recalls TV show The West Wing, while frequently plot twists, fast pacing and convincing acting result in a gripping tale. Despite this the moral of the story, encompassed in the title, is nothing new – politics aspires to noble ideals but too often descends into low skulduggery, with the triumph of personal ambition.

That politics can be immoral will come as no surprise, and may make Ides of March slightly forgettable, particularly as the politics of the film have little impact compared to graver contemporary political problems. Despite this, Clooney’s latest feature is enjoyable and engaging entertainment, with an excellent performance from Gosling as its lead.

Veiling as it did the dirt, the mud and the darkness, the snow would continue to speak to Ka of purity, but after his first day in Kars, it no longer promised innocence. The snow here was tiring, irritating, terrorising … it no longer took him back to the snowy streets of his childhood … no longer returned him to a place where he could enjoy the middle-class life he missed too much even to visit in his dreams. Instead, it spoke to him of hopelessness and misery.

So reads an early paragraph in Orhan Pamuk’s best known novel, Snow. Ka, the protagonist of Snow, is a political exile, who returns to Turkey after a number of years in Germany and travels to the remote town of Kars in order to investigate a spate of female suicides. He also has a secret mission – to reunite with Ipek, his recently-divorced childhood friend and long-lost love. As the snow falls, the roads in and out of Kars are closed, and over the following days the secular and Islamist tensions in the town unravel.

This is the simplest summary I can think to write of what is a complex, convoluted novel that combines a love story with a discussion of the political issues facing modern Turkey. Chief among these is that of women wearing headscarves – a prominent battleground and sensitive topic in contemporary Turkish politics. Yet Snow also conveys the history of politics in this small border town – where old socialists, Kurdish nationalists, Western secular republicans and political Islamists all vie – with comic humour at times – to manipulate events beyond their control. And it discusses the poverty-stricken state of eastern Turkey (while warning against the pitfalls of stereotyping this place) – as contrasted with the wealthy, middle-class Istanbul background that Ka the protagonist is used to.

It is a fascinating book for a number of reasons. It’s slightly autobiographical hints make me want to know more about its author. It’s politics and complex language make me think that English language readers must surely be missing something in translation. There are poetic passages that evoke emotions of this border-town wilderness, where snow permeates every layer of life in a way that is quite difficult for those who haven’t experienced such an environment to comprehend (it reminded me of waiting for a train in a small village in the middle of Hokkaido, northern Japan one morning – minus 20 or 30 degrees, with blankets of snow all around and not another soul in sight).  There are also passages that illuminate the post-9/11 confrontation between the secular and Islamic worlds – there is surely here (and indeed in Turkey’s struggle between the two tensions) a lot to learn.

Snow is grand but also concise, political but also deeply mystical and romantic. Pamuk’s storytelling allows you to see events as though they are suspended in time – with a grim inevitability to the way events play out. It is not a light or entertaining novel that you can breeze through – but it is rewarding if you persevere. Above all, Snow is evocative and atmospheric – a highly memorable read.

“If one had but a single glance to give the world, one should gaze on Istanbul.”

Istanbul exceeded my expectations in almost every way. It is a cosmopolitan, vibrant and historic city. The first thing that strikes you about it is its natural location – the Blue Mosque and the Aya Sofya, sitting atop the hill of Sultanahmet, at the confluence of the Bosphorus and the Golden Horn, are a wondrous sight. The Bosphorus itself is the defining feature of the city – a busy waterway filled with cargo-laden ships, but also a sight of myths and history, and the dividing line between East and West, Asia and Europe. Istanbul is also a battleground for the colliding worlds and intertwining tensions that make Turkish politics so fascinating – most prominently the ongoing battle between Western secular values, as enshrined in the republican vision of the Ataturk, and those of resurgent political Islam. Having returned from Istanbul, I’m currently reading Orhan Pamuk’s Snow, and would recommend it to those interested in the subject.

Sights

The main sights of Istanbul can be seen in a few days, but to do so misses the opportunity to soak up the atmosphere of the city. The historic centre on Sultanahmet is compact, and allows easy access to the main attractions – the Blue Mosque, Aya Sofya, Basilica Cistern and Topkapi Palace. Travelling west from there you can visit the Grand Bazaar and Spice Bazaar, as well as the impressive Sulemaniye Mosque, built by Suleman the Magnificent. Further west still, up the Golden Horn, the Chora Church is certainly worth seeking out, as is Piere Lotti – a cafe perched atop the hills with magnificent views. The area south of Sultanahmet is cited as good for strolling – but the streets are steep, and I found the area west of Chora Church by the city walls a nicer place to walk. Here the hustle and bustle of the city and its main thoroughfares recedes amid quiet streets. You can start from the Chora Church, head west and north, and end up by the Golden Horn, where you can take a boat back in the direction of Eminonu. This should provide some welcome relief from the madness of Istanbul’s roads.

The Aya Sofya

The Blue Mosque

The Sea of Mamara from Sultanahmet

Interior of the Blue Mosque…

…and the Aya Sofya

One of my favourite areas in Istanbul was the Galata Bridge. Upon first seeing it, I recognised the tramlines stretching across from a black and white photograph in Orhan Pamuk’s Istanbul. It is a centre of frenetic movement – trams, traffic and people rushing back and forth, but also a place where patient fisherman stand for hours, hoping to catch fish (I never once saw one manage this) and street sellers try in vain to sell pocket watches from suitcases. To the north and east of the Galata Bridge is Beyoglu – home to the Istanbul Modern, the cities premier modern art museum. Up the hill, past the Galata Tower, you reach the Istiklal Cadii, the main thoroughfare complete with a ‘nostalgic tram’. After walking about 15 -20 minutes you can reach Taksim Square - the hub of young, modern Istanbul. Along the way are some of the city’s main bar streets – there is one in particular containing a number of bars with low stools and tables for quaffing beer – all with the same blue neon Efes sign (Efes seems to have a monopoly on lager in Istanbul). There’s also Algeria Alley - a steep street full of trendy, fashionable bars – that’s worth checking out. For evening entertainment it’s also worth heading across to Kadikoy on the Asian side of the city - a more relaxed location for a night out with a higher concentration of students. A Turkish Couchsurfer I met was telling me about the graffiti in the toilets of a bar we went to that said “Fuck the AKP” – the right-wing party that supports political Islam. She said it was indicative of the fears that many young Istanbulis have that Turkey may one day turn into the next Iran.

The Galata Bridge

Sultanahmet from a boat heading to Kadikoy

Mosque (and tram stop) in Eminonu

The Chora Church

Food

After some initial average kebabs, I quickly warmed to Turkish food. Highlights include the breakfasts of salty cheese, tomatoes and cucumber, washed down with Turkish coffee, kofte (meatballs) with amazing lentil soup in Sultanahmet, balik ekmek (fish bread) on the Galata Bridge for TL5, yoghurt dip with mint, midyer dolma (stuffed mussels with lemon) for TL1 apiece in Istiklal Cadii, begendi/haydari (a dip made of yoghurt, blended aubergine and garlic) and some top-notch kebaps – particularly the paticanli kebap, with aubergine (which seems an extremely popular vegetable in Istanbul). The baclava was also amazing – and it’s worth trying a strange pudding made with chicken, tavuk gogsu. Finally, thanks to this article in the Guardian for recommending the most fantastic fish restaurant, Asmali Cavit – definitely worth checking out.

Interior of the Chora Church

The Galata Tower

Eminonu from the Galata Bridge

Football…and hamams

Make sure you catch a Turkish super League game in Istanbul. Galatasaray have one of the bigger stadiums and they’re the team I went to see – they beat Eskisehirspor 2-0. But having seen enthusiastic Besitkas fans the day before, I think they might be worth seeing too. The other big team – Fenerbache – play on the Asian side of the city. Finally, don’t miss the opportunity to be massaged by a fat middle aged Turkish man at a hamam – surely every tourist’s Istanbul dream.

Galatasaray’s new football stadium

The old train station in Asian Istanbul

The sun sets on European Istanbul