Alan Coleman

So there I am, sat on the train on the way home from work reading and basically minding my own business. A bloke sits down opposite wearing a short sleeved shirt with epaulettes, like an off duty copper although he’s not because of the grey sports socks similar to mine. He’s playing with an international train timetable whilst having what sounds like an interesting phone conversation about trains in Thailand. It transpires that his parents are going on a round the world trip and he’s been left with the task of organising everything from flights to fishing trips in Cambodia.

Everything’s in place, all that’s left is for him to find someone to feed his mum’s Rabbit and Guinea Pig. “If I can’t find anyone else to feed the hairy little fuckers I suppose I’ll have to do it myself?”, he says without a hint of humour and not realising the moment of comic genius.

The on board entertainment was quickly overshadowed by two blokes who sat themselves on the other side of the isle. Their piercing voices sounded like a cross between celebrity archaeologist Tony Robinson and the accomplished kiddie fiddler Jonathon King. Talking loud enough for everyone to hear they set about with their opinions on British design and the area around Blackhourse Road in northeast London.

One of them waves his arms around in a show of quirky intellectualism, aware of his audience but blissfully unaware of how tedious his knowledge of architecture really is. Even the bloke opposite them is getting crotchety, glaring through Armani shades over the top of his Mac. “It’s filthy, full of crime and Turks fighting Turks, there’s nothing there of any note, the buildings are dreadful. Where I live you can buy homemade jam, you know?”.

Great, no kebabs but organic strawberries and pectin, wherever that is sounds like a blinding night out!

Master and Commander is based loosely on the novel of the same name by Patrick O’Brien. It follows a voyage on board HMS Surprise commanded by the unyielding but well respected Captain Jack Aubrey. The ships orders are to hunt down the vastly superior French frigate Acheron, it is believed that this in turn will hamper Napoleons presumed attempt to capture Britain. I believe that in the original story the hunted ship is American or possibly Spanish, but this was changed to a French ship for the film adaptation for Hollywood reasons. A classic example of an insanely deluded nation rewriting history to it’s own ends, anyway that’s for another time.

There are two main reasons that this film is not just another Hollywood blockbuster, the first and probably most important is the absence of the ‘Love interest’ storyline. Women appear only briefly in the film, and even then only for a few seconds with no speaking roles. As I sat down to watch I was hoping that producers wouldn’t squeeze Nichole Kidman into the captains cabin and turn the whole thing into the Far sodding Pavilions. No girls allowed, I wasn’t disappointed. Secondly was the tasteful use of special effects. I think that the reason that so many modern films appear so formulaic is there reliance on explosions and ridiculous stunts. Older films tended to use a combination of suspense and insinuation that tend to wear less on the viewer. In this film the storm and battle scenes are subtle, expertly created and entirely plausible.

Apart from diverting from the original storyline as noted above, the attention to historic detail pays off handsomely in this film. When I was younger I always wondered why canon balls exploded when they are made of solid Iron. The answer is of course that they don’t, it’s just easier to make an explosion than to depict what actually happens when a canon ball makes contact with wood. All this is presented as a refreshing change from the usual tiresome end of film explosion sequence.

Captain Jack Aubrey is played by Russell Crowe, who despite the odd dodgy bit of musicianship brings the character to life in an expert manner. In fact the acting is good throughout, and I think a lot of this is the result of the welcome lack of silly humour that can find it’s way into films. The Captain’s relationship with the ships surgeon is also worth mentioning considering that they play off each other throughout. Dr Stephen Maturin, played by Paul Bettany, is a hobby naturalist who longs to immerse himself in the wildlife of the Galapagos Islands. This rubs continuously with Aubrey’s more straightforward Naval role and makes for a good storyline. My favourite character was Lord Blakeney, an inquisitive child officer of no more than 12 who has his arm removed without an anaesthetic. As the film progresses he becomes a competent officer whose unbroken voice can be heard shouting orders in the heat of battle. Brilliant.

Ultimately it’s the romance of it all that did it for me, it’s all I could do to hold the tears back when Aubrey orders “An extra ration of Rum for that man…” . Okay, it can get a bit silly, men charging about with flowing hair and swords shouting about honour and defending England. But I couldn’t help but get sucked into its carefully constructed storyline, characters and the romance of Navy life. It reminded me a bit of playing war in the woods as a child, and there was no girls allowed the either! The soundtrack is superb too, there being no better composer to accompany the high seas than Ralph Vaughan Williams. Best scene? Lord Blakeney boarding the French boat and fighting off a gun crew with one arm – unbelievable but fantastic at the same time.

Okay so it’s not going to win any prizes at Cannes, but who cares when it’s a fine piece of well crafted entertainment.

Today the BBC reported on figures published concerning royal spending, which sounds like a damn good opportunity for a rant.

It shows that the royal family cost us 36 Million pounds last year, this in itself makes it sound like something that we are privileged to invest in. In actual fact this money was spent on the things that you and I have to pay for on a daily basis like living and travel expenses. So it’s more appropriate that it should be called earnings, like the additional 11 Million ponds that Charles Windsor (Saxe-Coburg-Gotha) earns from the Duchy of Cornwall per annum. Earnings.

“We grossed 47 Million last year”

Lets have a little lookie at where some of that cash was spunked on our behalf.

£300,000 on a private jet taking Charles to Sri Lanka, Australia and Fiji. £125,000 on another private jet taking Andrew to the Far East to Promote UK interests. £45,000 on a train to take Charles from Aberdeen to Plymouth. Don’t believe me? Click on the link at the bottom of the page to find out.

We’re not talking about pocket money here, these are huge figures, 45K on a single train journey? Hypothetically speaking, that would give 3000 African children access to a form of education. A bit simplistic I know, but worth thinking about all the same.

The insult is furthered by sycophant in chief Alan Reid, keeper of the Privy Purse, who is quoted as saying the report shows a “value-for-money monarchy”. His smugness finishes with “We’re not looking to provide the cheapest monarchy. We’re looking at one of good value and good quality”.

Quite, unbelievable.

I ask myself everyday how we continue to let this happen, and why we’re not doing something to correct this injustice that holds us in such deep contempt. We have to sit by and watch sycophantic structures of society like the media turn a blind eye, preferring to highlight rouge traffic wardens and asylum seekers instead. Royalty is a part of the Britain for which I am yet to hear a credible argument, and I mean a genuine reason beyond the usual Tory whine “They do a lot for tourism”.

Should we need evidence of the endemic and uncontrollable greed that is the royal family, then this is it. A grotesque display of wanton contempt and social corruption that angers me every day of my life.

I brought the Daily Mirror yesterday simply because I liked the picture of Russell Crowe in Handcuffs on the front cover. He was sporting cool shades, and a slightly pissed off look that had about it a certain amount of inevitability.

I’m taken with the idea of people not being able to change what is part of their natural personality, irrespective of how famous or rich they are. It’s almost as if they are staying true to themselves and not giving in to the nice guy chat show guest that seems to beckon middle age actors. Tom Cruise springs to mind.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not condoning whatever he was alleged to have done and he?s probably a spoilt brat of the highest order. But I think that occasionally, western societies need people like Russell Crowe and Liam Gallagher to remind us of the dangers of conformity, falseness and chat shows.

I’m peering across at the paper every now and then and it’s putting a healthy smile on my face.

We thought we’d watch a bit of TV whilst having dinner. It was Holiday Swap that lasted about 45 seconds before I had to turn it off in complete disgust.

The family are in a people carrier driving through a Tenerife resort, on their way to meet their host family. The Mum smiles and shakes her head knowingly, “This is my idea of a complete nightmare, it’s like Benidorm, and I haven’t even been there!?”. The son, messy and cool in his skater gear sneers and mentions that they’re probably chavs.

Home counties. Moss on the roof. Stickers in the back of the Volvo.

What did they expect when taking part in a show called Holiday Swap? Their trekking holiday in the bloody Tuscan foothills, or wherever, being swapped for the olive pressing festival in Catalonia?

The forkful of Mandy’s finest Spag Bol doesn’t make it to my mouth, I don’t want to watch but can’t help myself with disbelief.

They meet their host family at the £110 a night hotel and decline to drink at the bar, choosing instead to skulk off to their room. Here the youngest son talks to the camera, “Omigod! Like when I saw that Burberry cap, I was like?”

This is perhaps the saddest part of the whole debacle, adult condescension filtering its way down to the children. It’s too late.

This is travel snobbery at its very worst, cultured mums and scruffy skater kids openly sneering at the choice of others. They may be wealthy and well educated, but that doesn’t cover up for the fact that they are basically a horrible family.

I don’t know why I let things like this get to me!