Friday, 19 October 2018

Agony Hour III: The Agony Strikes Back


No doubt you're puzzled by the lack of press coverage following my recent, unexpected break-up with Lady Gaga. The fact is, Gaga and I are self-effacing, publicity-shy cultural icons who prefer to resolve our issues away from the stifling heat of the media spotlight. We therefore humbly ask that you respect our privacy during this difficult time and not allow speculation about Gaga's emotional immaturity, pathological attention seeking and complete inability to engage in intelligent conversation to distract you from more important things going on in the world right now.

Nevertheless, it would be selfish and unpardonably arrogant of me to turn my back on you guys in my darkest hour. So here I am, selflessly providing you with another open surgery. There really is no need to thank me, but if you absolutely must then my sort code and account number are available on the web view of this blog. But just be sensible, okay? You've got to live, too.

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Dear Richard,

I've just watched Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country. It's a good film and all that, but how come Chekov doesn't know you can't fire a phaser on-board a starship without setting off the alarm? Everyone else does. And if he's the acting science officer when Spock's not around, why doesn't he realise that ensign Dax's species have enlarged web-feet and can't wear human-size gravity boots? It's character inconsistencies like this that give me the right raging hump.

- Pedantic, Delhi

Richard says...

Well, Pedantic, some people would argue that Chekov's role in the scenes you've mentioned is to provide exposition and comic relief, but in reality it's just further evidence of his incompetence. Think about it: he burns his hand on the console in The Motion Picture after Kirk explicitly tells him not to touch it when the warp drive malfunctions, gets taken over by a mind parasite in The Wrath of Khan, holds up the return journey in The Voyage Home after falling off the gantry aboard the Enterprise's 20th century namesake, and gets taken over (again) by Sybok in The Final Frontier. Kirk probably wouldn't have been sucked into the Nexus in Generations if Chekov hadn't made his little cameo. I mean, I'm all for the Federation's credo that people work to better themselves, but I think their employment policy is seriously in need of a review if morons like Pavel get to sit at the bridge. He's a fucking liability and no mistake. If I was Kirk I would've given him his cards long before V'ger, I tell you that.

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Hi Richard,

In 2002 I shot great film about good guy who gets betrayed by friend. Good friend: the best! Based on life, you know? People see it as comedy. I okay with this, but now other movie come out made by big actor making people think I some creep with grand delusion and no humor. He doesn't even let me speak at Golden Globes. People laughing at me now for real. I don't know what to do. It tearing me apart!

- T. Wiseau, Somewhere in Los Angeles

Richard says...

Don't worry about it: in 20 years' time, people will have forgotten all about The Disaster Artist and they'll go back to watching The Room instead. As it stands, James Franco just wants to show how cool he is by hooking up with a genuine auteur - which you are - and picking fault with your vision rather than working on improving his own craft. (Although, in Franco's case there really isn't any excuse; his films have time, money and talent thrown at them whereas yours didn't. For what it's worth, I'd certainly rewatch The Room rather than sit through In Dubious Battle or Zeroville again.)


Trust me, your name will live on in movie history alongside that of Mark Borchardt and Edward D. Wood Jr. while Franco's gathers dust on Wikipedia's #MeToo page.

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Dear Richard, 

Great art is the coruscating language of Shakespeare, the lilting melodies of Mozart and the rustic splendour of Constable; it is the better part of ourselves, unfettered by base distraction and wanton indulgence. Imagine my disgust, then, when I visited the National Gallery last week and stumbled across Jonathan Yeo's pornographic collage portrait of George W. Bush:


How can anyone call this art? I certainly wouldn't have it in my house! Why do modern artists make abominations like this, and why do they expect us to look at them?

- Affronted, Sussex

Richard says...

Ah! You're making the fundamental mistake here of confusing artistic appreciation with rudimentary aesthetics. What's more, the criteria you have for what constitutes great art seems to be based on superficial ideals of beauty and good taste. Consider if you will this 16th century triptych by an unknown Early Netherlandish artist. (I suggest scrolling down one plate at a time to get the full effect):


I'm sure you'll agree, the exterior panel is exquisite in its harmonious use of chiaroscuro and contrapposto to capture the subject's impish qualities. Just look at the way the light catches the folds on the figure's sleeve as he points at the scroll warning us not to open case. But of course we do, and find ourselves looking at this little beauty on the reverse panel... 


Now we know why the subject's leaning forward. Take in the rich texture of those thistles and the anatomically-correct contours of the buttocks (not to mention the masterful sense of perspective demonstrated by the positioning of the scrotal sac). Almost brings a tear to the eye, doesn't it? In case you're wondering, the scroll underneath taunts us for our curiosity - as indeed does the last panel (now generally accepted by art historians to be a self-portrait)...


"Made your eyes pop out, didn't I?" the figure asks, gleefully sticking his tongue out at us. Talk about cheek. But do you know where this satirical masterpiece was discovered? In a church. It's an instructional piece, informing people to do what they're told and using scatological humour - the common culture of the day - as a tool.

So you see, it's not just "modern artists" (as you incorrectly refer to Yeo and his ilk) who challenge our perceptions of beauty and taste to provoke discussion but their forebears, too. With this in mind, I suggest you stop making absolute definitions of what art should be (obviously based on some jaded, culturally imperialist view you've picked up from someone who has absolutely no understanding of the subject) and get a sense of perspective. Seriously, what do you think all those 'country' puns are about in Hamlet - gardening??

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Dear Richard,

I had a cup of tea earlier and now I want another one.

- Thirsty, Grantham

Richard says...

Well make one then, you lazy bastard. I can't do everything for you.

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Dear Richard,

When I was a kid I wrote to the TV series How Do They Do That? asking about the special effects in Red Dwarf. It was a dream come true when I was invited to BBC Television Centre and got to spend a day with the Vis-FX department. Chief model maker Mike Tucker even presented me with an actual Starbug prop. Shortly afterwards I started to feel a real sense of emptiness and found myself unable to watch Red Dwarf anymore because the mystery had gone out of it. I turned to sex and drugs as a way of filling the void, but that just made things worse. For the last 24 years I've gone from one low paid job to another, struggled to commit to relationships and ended up sleeping on friends' couches more times than I care to remember. I just wish I'd never sent that sodding letter in the first place.

- Weary, Stockport

Richard says...

You need to get a grip, son. How do you think I felt laughing my head off through all five seasons of The Wire only to discover it wasn't a comedy? Or when I first went into a Nudo sushi bar and everyone else was fully dressed? These things are enough to destroy a man, but I dealt with them in mature, responsible ways (taking out a lawsuit against HBO in the former case and trashing the place in the latter). Life's full of soul-crushing disappointments and regrets: you've just got to find a way of venting your frustrations that aren't self-destructive. Since there's a very specific reason for your longstanding malaise, I recommend finding out when the next series of Red Dwarf is being recorded, get yourself tickets to be in the audience for every show, chain yourself to your seat and after every line shout, "WHEN'S ROB GRANT COMING BACK?" To be honest, it probably won't change your situation, but you'll be doing us all a favour after series XII.

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Dear Richard,

I murdered a bunch of people back in the '60s and '70s on a spur of the moment thing and no one caught me, but now they're making all these movies and TV shows and speculating about my identity. Can't they just leave me alone? I haven't killed anyone for forty years.

San Francisco


Richard Says...

People are drawn to mysteries: it's all part of being human. I'd take it as a compliment if I were you. Just don't get too worked up about it, okay? Try knitting. That might take your mind off it.

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Dear Richard,

All we've had on WordJam for the last few months now is politics, satire and social commentary, and I for one am sick of it. What's more, you're nowhere near as funny as you think you are and your intellect is that of a five-year-old. I have absolutely no knowledge or interest in politics, and I'm sure I speak for all your readers (both of them!) that the time has come for you to put away your laptop and
GET A LIFE.

- Boris Johnson, Westminster
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 ...And on that encouraging note, onwards, folks!