Ker-ching!
So, Google have bought YouTube for $1.65 billion, or "almost 900 million quid". I'm a late starter to this latest craze, I'll be honest, but this very morning, my life was made easier and cheaper by YouTube.


This week, for Radio Times film section, from the available selection of films that are on television next week, I had elected to write my Classic Movie Moment about From Dusk Till Dawn. I usually choose a film for this feature from my own DVD collection. I picked this one mainly because I like it, but also because I was convinced that I have it. Unfortunately, I must have had it on video, and before the move, as regular readers will know, the videos went to a number of grateful charity shops. You'll be ahead of me here, but I need to watch the "moment" in question in order to evocatively describe it in 188 words. Thinking I would have to walk down to Blockbuster and rent it, I decided to search on YouTube and yes, the precise scene I wanted was on there, ready to view. Thus, YouTube saved me a walk, about three pounds fifty and at least 15 minutes of my life. It also gave me a warm glow that somebody somewhere would bother to upload the scene in the convenience store in From Dusk Till Dawn where George Clooney says, "Everybody be cool!" and makes a Molotov cocktail from a toilet roll and some lighter fluid.

I hope what makes this site so joyous will not change under its new ownership.

Never done this before either, so here goes:

Good seed
This is really not a great photograph, but it is pictorial proof that, after too long a gestation period, my first bird feeder is now up in the new garden. The 12-port food court. It went up last night, suspended from the branch of a small pear tree by some very thick cord I found at Homebase, at approximately 1800 hrs. And although this event is not pictured, two blue tits became its first visitors at 1143 this morning. The adventure begins.

Two films

At last, getting back into the swing of things. Normal service. Finally been to our new local cinema, which is a 12-screen Odeon, to catch up with Children Of Men, which only the house-move and aftermath have prevented us from seeing sooner. It was an afternoon showing, and there was only one other punter in there. Now I've seen it, I can see why. It's the most singularly depressing film I've seen since my Ingmar Bergman binge about four years ago! Set in Britain 2027, it's a brilliantly recognisable dystopia, with enough that's the same to make the stuff that's different seem all the more possible. The human race has become infertile. No baby has been born for 18 years. Order has collapsed. We have nothing to live for. "Britain soldiers on!" according to isolationist government propaganda. Borders have been closed and immigrants are being rounded up and shipped out (hey, it's a utopian vision of the future for Daily Mail readers!) We have our own Homeland Security! Bexhill-On-Sea is a refugee camp. You have to hand it to director Alfonso Cuaron, his production designers Jim Clay and Geoffrey Kirkland, and cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki: Children Of Men (God, I'm getting quite depressed just thinking about it) is a beautifully realised world. Clive Owen is perfectly cast as the government drone-turned-accidental hero, dropped, all crumpled and smoking, into the middle of it. Michael Caine gets the role of his life as a pot-smoking political cartoonist who lives in the woods. And among all the despair and violence and ennui, a nice touch is that people seem incredibly attached to their pets. Dogs and cats are held dear everywhere. Whether this was in PD James' novel or not, I don't know, but it's a rare touch of warmth in the middle of the misery. I was impressed by the film, and it's very British (there's a car chase, a nail-biting one, that involves a car that won't start rolling down the hill, desperately hoping to achieve a hill start; and when Owen throws himself behind a wall to protect himself during a gunfight, he lands on some refugees already hiding there and says sorry!), but I wouldn't advise you to go and see it unless you're in such a bright, optimistic mood you can take it. (If you haven't see the trailers, which give away the whole plot, you'll enjoy it more, which is why I have refrained from giving it away. Talking of which ...)


Hard Candy, which is due out on DVD in a couple of weeks, also appears to be a depressing, grim prospect. It's a low-budget, no-star, California-set thriller about internet grooming that begins with a letchy 32-year-old photographer meeting up with a precocious 14-year-old girl in a coffee shop after a flirtatious session in a chatroom. He grooms her further by appearing "normal", hitting the right cultural buttons by mentioning Goldfrapp, and buying her an Edward Hopper t-shirt, which she goes into the toilets to try on for him, while he waits outside. Yuck. It's suitably creepy, and full of dread, despite the bright, sunny setting. They go back to his apartment, where his glamour shots of suspiciously young girls adorn the walls. They drink vodka. And that is where I shall shut up. It's best not to know what happens next. The twist comes about 25 minutes in. From there, it's a whole other film. And a very good one. Directed by a first-timer who did some Prodigy and Stone Temple Pilots videos, it's stylish but economically-staged, with great use of colour. It's also unpredictable. It could make a stage play. Hats off to the two actors, Patrick Wilson and Ellen Page (who was, thank heavens, 18 when she shot the film), who keep your attention throughout. Warning: there is a long, gruesome bit in the middle, but sit through it, and you will be rewarded. You don't actually see very much, as with all the best horror. On balance, there's not quite enough material to fill the 100 minutes, but you've got to hand it to all involved, this is an original, thought-provoking piece of talky schlock.

Going nucular!
So, who's more dangerous? This man:



Or these men?



Obviously, only one of them has a nuclear bomb and is an eccentric playboy despot who rules over a totalitarian state that worships him as a tubby deity because he tells them to, but the news that North Korea has tested its first weapon of mass destruction has not only put "the world" in a spin (it's definitely the whole world, the news has checked), but destroyed all pretence towards objective and sensible news reporting at ITN. Hence, Mark Austin (left, who's never looked comfortable in a suit) and Washington correspondent John Irvine (right, just took up the post in April), losing all sense of decorum last night on the ITV News. The facts seem to be that, after years of diplomatic pressure, a bellicose N Korea exploded a nuclear bomb in a mine, perhaps just to piss of S Korea, whose foreign minister has been made UN Secretary General (enjoy those negotiations with your neighbour in the future!). This officially makes N Korea the ninth nuclear power on earth. The other nuclear powers don't seem too happy about welcoming a new member to their exclusive club. Another fact: this affects the balance of power between China, Japan and the other Korea. Where the reporting goes wrong on ITN is the emotive, persuasive way it is put across.

For a start - and my beloved Channel 4 News also do this - anchorman Mark Austin presented the entire programme from Beijing, and kept going on about it. All it meant was that he was stood on a hill in the early morning, rather than sat at his desk or marching up and down the Americanised ITV set in London. So what? We went over to John Irvine in Washington, who was stood in front of Capitol Hill in case you wondered, and whose key billing at least told the top story (that President Bush is very angry, and what he thinks is the only news in town). Irvine emoted and sensationalised wildly, editorialising in Fox News style, and the thrust was one of barely-concealed macho glee that there might be a punch-up, and that America had every right to be cross. Obviously either a big fan of Chris Morris, or he's never seen The Day Today, Irvine said this of the bomb test: "It's a nuclear-sized slap in the face [to President Bush]." Let's run through that again. A nuclear-sized slap. What size is "nuclear"? Is it bigger than an atomic-sized slap? Clearly it's bigger than a conventional-sized slap. John Irvine wrote this sentence and it must have been at least glanced at by his producer, and then he said it, live, to the nation, without a shred of embarrassment.

Back in the studio, again leaving behind common sense, Mark Austin said that because Bush had, in his first State of the Union, identified N Korea as one of his "axis of evil", their nuclear test meant that "his prophecy had come true." Now, was his address a prophecy? Or was it just a convenient grouping-together of rogue states to help create an identifiable "enemy" for the American people at a time of great confusion and invisible foes? Had Bush or his speechwriters actually said, "I predict that N Korea will join the axis of evil," it would have been a prophecy, Mark. We hear a lot about how the N Koreans are kept in the dark with their specially-piped-in news. Ours is supposed to be good. It isn't, is it? It's showbiz.

As usual, I switched off the news knowing less than when I had turned it on. Still, last week's Extras (the Baftas one), which I watched on my Sky+, was the very best episode of the series. It could have stood alone as a half-hour comedy play.

Not Staying In
I hope you don't think me obsessed - and in fact, if I was, you'd have to let me off - but as a self-anointed junkie for overnight TV ratings, I have been on tenterhooks today about how Not Going Out fared on Friday night. I waited all morning while Media Guardian got their act together. They posted Sunday's up first ("1.7m turn up for Five's live birth"), then Saturday's ("ITV all-of-a-quiver as Robin Hood rides in"), then, finally, at lunchtime, Friday's - by which time I'd had advance word from Avalon - "Taggart sees off BBC1 sitcom."

Over to them:

Taggart sees off BBC1 sitcom
Julia Day
Monday October 9, 2006
MediaGuardian.co.uk

"BBC1's new Friday night sitcom Not Going Out lost out in the ratings on its debut outing to ITV1 favourite Taggart. Written by and starring standup comedian Lee Mack, the sitcom was watched by 2.8 million people, a 13.9% share of the available audience at 9.30pm, according to unofficial overnights.

"Along with the 10 O'Clock News, it was the only part of the evening from 8pm onwards where BBC1 didn't win the ratings battle, when the second part of Taggart on ITV1 proved a bigger draw, with an average of 4.2 million tuning in, a 20.7% share. BBC1's EastEnders, the Green Green Grass, Outtake TV, Friday Night With Jonathan Ross and the movie Road Trip all proved the most popular choice from the nation's sofas on Friday night. Jonathan Ross continues to show Channel 4's Charlotte Church how to handle a chatshow. His show was watched by 3.8 million viewers and attracted a 27.6% share between 10.35pm and 11.35pm, while hers gained a 1.3 million audience and 7.3% share between 10pm and 10.55pm.

"On BBC2, Gardener's World was watched by 3.1 million viewers, a 14.6% share between 8.30pm and 9pm and the Galapagos series managed to hold on to Monty Don's audience through to 9.50pm. The second instalment from the islands garnered a 15% share."

So there you have it. The people have spoken. Apparently it was 2.9 million at its peak, so those who agree with Clare and Steve in the post below but don't have any connection to me probably switched off or over. I'm pretty sure 2.8m is respectable for a new show without a major TV star in it, and we were never going to beat Taggart. Perhaps it'll do better next week, when it comes after the first in a new series of Have I Got News (I'm not a scheduler, but I would have run these in the same first week, rather than staggered), or even in week three, after Lee has been on Jonathan Ross. I understand Jack Dee's Lead Balloon is the highest-ever watched comedy on BBC4 with 383,000 viewers. It's all relative. For me, I just measure the programme's success in smiles.