CONTENT FC

 

What's on the box?

The late 1980s and the 90s were really the year zeroes for football being seen as a means to entertain outside the confines of the game itself and game analysis. Kevin Allen’s documentary about Italia 90 was something of a landmark and showed the fans as the stars. This led to producers grabbing the ball and utilising the lad culture that, far rom being organic was a media creation in response to the New Man tag of the '80s. This was defined by Sean O' Hagan in his landmark article New Lads (1991) in Arena 27. "Give the people what they want" can be a dangerous strategy 

In the studio-

1992-Soccer Saturday

1994-Soccer AM

1994-Fantasy Football

The largely forgotten

1997-Under The Moon

1998-Friday Night's All Wright

2003-FashTV

But before all of them was

1991-Standing Room Only

Which was foreshadowed by Kevin Allen's World Cup Video Diary Italia 1990

And there was the Drama which started early in football’s journey from the Thatcher demonised product it was presented as, to returning to being the people’s game

1984-Scully

1989-The Manageress

1992-Born Kicking

1997-Dream Team

Which took us into the 00s and beyond and the “rise” of the internet (or should that be the “fall”) which has led to the current situation of football content saturation.

David Baddeil has, rightly, criticised the modern day content creators that form the Manoshpere for their ridiculous world view but it could be argued that these are the children of the culture that he was very much a part of. Football was intrinsically linked with lad culture in the 90's, Cool Britannia and all that.

Where we have inevitably ended up is with a proliferation of faces popping up having an opinion about the beautiful game and that opinion is generally a controversial one as controversy generates clicks and as we have learnt; clicks create cash.

Those early days during which we saw Anfield '89, Italia '90 and Euro '96 created a naive but quite exciting television landscape and we lapped up all the football talk within it.

Now, like most things, we are bloated and jaded with an unending identity parade of people chasing their 15 minutes of fame off the back of the game that is loved by many but also  exploited by many, and I'm not talking about those voracious piglets at the top of the pyramid sucking at Association Football's teat, I'm talking about those scuffling for scraps and they are more and more prepared to say anything as long as they don't go hungry.

THE DESCENT OF MAN

Louis Theroux: Inside The Manosphere is a programme that is both deeply disturbing and hilarious in equal measure. Louis meets the Neanderthals would have been a good alternative title given the outpourings of the subjects he meets. The language of theses online oafs is soundbite and conflict, shock as a means to an end, cant as currency.

We saw all the trappings of the Manosphere Misfits, the chunky expensive gaudy watch, the groin strangling tight trousers floating above the bare ankles, the ostentatious cars the sculpted facial hair, the Norman Wisdomesque jackets straining at the buttons and of course the muscles, there have to be muscles. We also saw a coterie of young women who seemed to almost have been hypnotised into admiration, so much so that they seemed happy to receive constant verbal abuse.

I had no knowledge of the people that Louis met with but they all fitted the stereotype you would expect, brash and lacking self-awareness but also extremely suspicious of having their pomposity pierced, wary of not being seen as supermen, but for what they actually are under the sheen of braggadocio.

To these characters if it doesn’t happen online it doesn’t happen at all, the fact that they are all well versed in controlling the narrative via editing and uplifting stupid comment is very dangerous as they seek to spread their toxic world view. 

Their use of facts to support their so called philosophies is tenuous at best, one put forward the 'fact' that women do not contribute anything to the Miami architectural landscape, despite the fact that 23% of Architects in the US are women. Another supported the scientific 'fact' that a woman's previous partners leave their DNA in a woman's system; this was said with genuine belief, thankfully Louis shot this ridiculous statement down in flames.

Another bloke who goes by the name of Sneako, Thicko would have been more apt) blamed the Jews for, well everything. The Satan Worshipping cabal that controls everybody matrix style and bizarrely Sam Smith. The Matrix was a recurring theme among the paranoia, the red pill and finger gestures were all part of the schtick, but I wonder if any of them considered the fact that The Matrix was created by two transgender women? doubtful.

When Louis finally met the mother of the man he spent most of his time with, the ludicrously named HSTikytoky he encountered initially a woman who seemed a positive force and did not agree with her son's views on women, but soon reverted into the enabler she clearly is once the going got tough and uncomfortable questions were asked by Theroux. HST, confronted by too much truth became a 14 year old boy and simply resorted to make calling, all of which was being recorded by a sinister friend lurking in the doorway.

The take away from all this? it's not as complex an issue as one might think, the teenage boys who lap up this content will probably move on to other things, people will get bored of the pretend Alpha Males and as tastes change they will inevitably become yesterdays news. Let's hope so, as their messaging is not just anti women and anti Jew it's anti human. These aren't men, they are boys living the Lord Of The Flies, but with tight homo erotic clothing

"I'VE GOT A BAD EALING ABOUT THIS"

The thing about American film makers is that they have the propensity for producing remakes of classic British comedy movies, particularly the uniquely British Ealing comedies. We’ve had the ham fisted, otherwise excellent Coen’s version of the Ladykillers transposed to New Orleans. A killer cast manages to trample on the grave of the superb original. Let’s face it Tom Hanks comedic talents aren’t built for measured performances.

School For Scoundrels is a charming and very witty comedy of manners with Terry Thomas at peak Terry Thomas and Ian Carmicheal as the downtrodden good guy who learns to be better. The 2006 remake is everything that the original is not. It’s clodhopping in its humour; it replaces subtlety with infantile jokes and is neither a homage nor a reinvention; it would have done better to be titled “Dude Where’s My School?”

Which brings us to the latest abomination masquerading as a fresh take on a classic. Kind Hearts And Coronets, which is for many, the apex of Ealing films. The 1949 original starring Alec Guiness in seven roles delights in its deliciously dark humour and its commentary on the class system. It is masterfully paced and expertly written and performed; How To Make A Killing isn’t.

The grinning charm free presence of Hollywood’s new golden boy come everyman Glen Powell is a bizarre choice for the lead in this tale of murdering your way to the top and any shred of empathy that the audience had for Dennis Price’s Louis D’Ascoyne Mazzini in the original is replaced by antipathy for Powell’s Beckett Redfellow (that’s a screen name worthy of Cronenberg).

Even the generally excellent Margaret Qualley can do little to inject any depth into this Ivy League romp. The modern Hollywood method is to inject a bit of sex and some pop culture references to replace the spirit of Ealing, that was more about verbal intercourse than the other kind of  intercourse.

To be fair to our Atlantic cousins the UK is also adept of making cack handed updates such as The Awful St Trinians movies of the early 200s starring some decent British journeymen/women actors and up and comers of substance but also the ‘celebrity’ likes of Russell Brand, Sarah Harding and Cheryl Cole, and the excruciating Whisky Galore. But they do at least retain a shred of some of the core values of the originals.

There is one word that any Hollywood producer should bear in mind when a remake of a classic British Comedy is suggested and that word is “Don’t”

YOUR OWN FINANCIAL JESUS

 

"Make not my father's house a place of merchandise"(John 2:15-16, Mark 11:15-17)

When the going gets tough the not so tough get religion. Christianity as a shield from reputational damage is the new Rock ‘N’ Roll. My view on organised religion is pretty straight forward, whatever makes you a better person is a good thing. Do unto others etc but also let others live their lives peacefully how they choose.

False sincerity is par for the course these days and this style of facing up to things is now almost mandatory. 

Accusations of rape; “I’ve found Jesus”

Allegations of Paedophilia: “Christ is my saviour”

Suggestions of impropriety: “Praise the lord”

We have seen many take that line in recent times, from politician to celebrity and from content creator to troublemaker, but undoubtedly the main Christ-Finder is POTUS. In the face of adversity this man clutches at his bible (A book of which he clearly knows little of the content) and his minions acclaim his as God’s chosen one.

Let’s say for arguments sake that God does exist and he created all the wonders of the world, I would say the chances of him selecting DJT as the anointed one are, shall we say, wafer thin, at best.

Let’s face it an obese, delusional orange nincompoop is hardly qualified to be chosen by any higher power, even if God was having a bad day.

The way in which some of the worst people on the planet suddenly find God or use whichever quote from the bible that suits their agenda is a modern-day phenomenon that is beamed directly into our heads from screens large and small. They think they are spreading the word, but what is the word? It seems to me that the word is (to quote Gordon Gecko) “Greed, for lack of a better word, is good"

‘Greedy Grifters Get God’, could have been the headline of this post because, for me, that kind of sums it up. I don’t have any religious leanings but what I would say is that this breed of 21st century Holy Hypocrites must cause those that quietly go about their believing in a personal way, sleepless nights, as they see more and more of them muscling in with intentions that are as transparent as they are cynical 

Shouting it from the rooftops is fine by me as I can choose not to listen and when it’s done with sincerity one can appreciate the sentiment, but the modern day God Grifter is using the Word Of God© as a barrier that they hope natural justice won’t be able to climb over