No big surprises there, really. Didn't agree with all of them, but none of them were totally outrageous. What was outrageous, however, was the terrible editing during the Fellowship award, and I really hope that the Beeb or the BAFTAs will be providing the great public with the whole acceptance speech.

I also learned that Claude Berri died sometime last year. There's always at least one "oh, is he dead?" and one "oh, I forgot he had died last year" and also at least one "I thought he died years ago" during the In Memoriam sequence.

Oh yes, and Mick Jagger turned out to be very funny! And it's good to know Robert Downey, jr. is in town at the moment.

Another thing that was proven once and for all, was the rather vast gap between trained stage actors and those who happened to find themselves in front of a camera in Hollywood at some point after someone shouted 'action!'; Jason Isaacs had clearly learnt the script and managed to actually look at people, not just the teleprompter, and also delivered it with feeling. Patrick Stewart and Sir Ian McKellen (yes, soon appearing in Waiting for Godot, which some of us knew very well before they mentioned it tonight) were of course equally well-versed at appearing in front of a large audience. Most of the others seemed nervous and wooden, really. Yes, I am probably picky. Or even an elitist when it comes to acting. Oh, no.

No Marton Csokas this year, though. Guess he's not "dating" anyone who was nominated...

Labels: film, jason isaacs, marton csokas, Monty Python, theatre

Watching Djokovic vs. Federer in the Australian Open (hey, I work in the sports business, and FOR ONCE the ones in charge of the nearby telly aren't watching cricket or horse racing, so I enjoy watching tennis when I can), Federer just lost (hahahaaaaah!) and things are finally becoming interesting in the world of tennis. Federer actually isn't unbeatable! Wonderful.

There are other competitions heating up as well, but those are on a more personal level. My harem of future husbands has expanded to three (previously mentioned Dale Winton and Julian Clary are just silly candidates, of course, and don't count towards the total), so they will all have to fight harder for my attention. Dennis tried creeping up the field again yesterday as I investigated my flatmate's brand new MFP and scanned a few newspaper clippings etc., but I'm afraid he is not yet a match for Philip, who is currently struggling even though he is appearing on stage in London in my fave musical and therefore VERY approachable; struggling because of That Other Bucket Midge (I should NOT have looked at that video this morning) who has, annoyingly enough, taken over my teeny weeny world with what seems to be absolutely no effort whatsoever, just by being so bloody charming. Bastard.

The trouble with those "admiration videos" put on YouTube by drooling teenaged girls (or, more often than not, by perfectly normal (although slightly bored) housewives and business women), is that they choose these songs that will then forever be connected to the person in question. For instance, I have three such videos among my favourites (the one with Philip Quast is different as he is ACTUALLY a singer, so they've just put one of his own tracks on there): One is for Whose Line in general and features Perfect/Exceeder, Mason vs. Princess Superstar, a song I already love. Then today's newly added Greg Proops drooling video features Biology by...uhmmm...is it Sugababes or Girls Aloud? I always forget. Anyway, I love that song as well. But then, THEN you have the video which I have dubbed my Marton Csokas fave video, but which also features other actors apparently in the same league as him, and the track on this particular video is Flawless by George Michael, which I originally thought was incredibly boring, but which now always makes me think of Marton. And Jason Isaacs. Hmm.

Speaking of my flatmate's scanner, I found my cherished Playbills from May 2002 and scanned them. So, just to prove that YES, I actually went to New York to see Alan Rickman on stage (and is he still in my harem of future husbands? Is he fuck), and YES, I actually got their autographs, here they are in all their glory:

Private Lives Playbill (signed by the whole cast; Lindsay Duncan, Emma Fielding, Alan Rickman and Adam Godley) and, for good measure, the Noises Off Playbill, signed by (let's see if I can remember) Peter Gallagher, Faith Prince, Patti LuPone and Robin Weigert. I'm still frustrated about the fact that I didn't get T.R. Knight's (he was in a hurry) and especially Katie Finneran's (I didn't dare ask, for some bizarre reason, when she actually LOOKED STRAIGHT AT ME with a "any more fans around?" kind of look in her eyes) autographs, but then again I'd already made enough of a fool of myself during that trip...and I'm never going to let myself live that one down, apparently.

My YouTube playlists (random link.)

In other news, and this time it really IS news, I heard this morning that "my" presidential candidate, Dennis K. Kucinich, has given up the race against the other twats Democratic candidates. So now I'll have to choose between the three heads of the monster. Reports like this naturally make me very skeptical, so I'll have to take a close look at the way their campaigns are going.

Labels: Alan Rickman, comedy, current affairs, dennis storhøi, greg proops, jason isaacs, marton csokas, music, musicals, philip quast, sport, theatre, TV

I found out today that 1) I get too emotional, and 2) I am in much higher demand than I thought I would be.

Let's just say I didn't take the job I was offered.

And I felt really, REALLY bad about it. But the matter of the fact is that I wouldn't earn enough to begin with, and I just don't have the savings for that kind of a scenario. Last week I started telling a few people that I work closely with that I was leaving, and the general reaction was "oh no, that's too bad", but one took off completely and apparently, it turns out, they don't actually want me to leave! Wow!

So then I started thinking, "but I don't actually want to leave, either!"

And the ball started rolling from there.

Today I was given a better deal at my current work place and thought "great", but then I had to tell the new place that unfortunately I couldn't take up a position there. That was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. They are very nice people and I liked it there, but all in all I just couldn't afford it. So I told the boss and hated myself, REALLY hated myself, afterwards.

Half an hour later she called me back and gave me a few options. All with increased pay. I seriously didn't think I was worth it, so it was a good and bad feeling wrapped into one. I was standing there, secretly thinking "PLEASE don't give me an offer I simply cannot refuse", and luckily she stopped 1K short of the recent offer from my current employers. After all, with my nervous disposition (shh) I probably shouldn't venture into the World of Sales. Which I told her (let's just blow EVERY chance I have of getting a job somewhere else, shall we!), but she seemed to understand. Apparently she has much better confidence in me than I'll ever have.

I haven't felt this rotten for a very long while, though.

Of course, saying "no thanks" to the other job means I have the next couple of days off, and suddenly I have 12 days off at Christmas. Too late to book a flight to Norway for Christmas, of course. Typical. Still, I've already planned my holidays, so...

In other news, I got the quite impressive Romulus, My Father the other day. Richard Roxburgh as director and Marton Csokas as one of the stars? Clear favourite.

Labels: Christmas, film, marton csokas, personal

So just a few days after the BAFTAs, an even more exciting award ceremony took place in London (minus Marton Csokas, but nevertheless more fun). I was overly pleased with most of the awards, not entirely displeased with any of them, and exceedingly glad Lily Allen got none of them. Hooray, I say! It was meant to be her year, and she went away with absolutely nothing, nada, zilch and zip. I couldn't be happier if I was suddenly told my credit cards had been paid off (and believe me, that would make me delirious...in a good way). I know, schadenfreude is my forte tonight.

I totally forgot to comment upon the return of the fantastic Life on Mars yesterday, probably because I wasn't completely concentrating on the story. I was mainly annoyed by the fact they are going to ruin a perfectly good series by transforming it into an American one for the US market. Grow up. I understand they would have problems with some of the local dialects and historical references, and I understand that from a producer's point of view the more people would watch the series, the more money they earn, of course, but why do they have to adapt brilliant stories just so that Americans who can't be bothered peeking outside of their own borders would "get" the story? It seems like everything has to be adapted to the US population, just like a spoilt brat--chewed and already digested for their convenience.

So when President Putin said last week that the world had indeed turned into a one-superpower world and everyone had to bow to US demands and every little whim, the US representatives started sulking and said that they do not want to run the world by themselves and the rest of us had better hand them their toys back or they would go tell their "mom". Once again, grow up.

One of the best things about the US, however, is the fact that the more than half of the population who do not agree with the Bush administration, can and do speak their mind. Much thanks to this, so can (and do) I. After all, like everything else, the Internet is basically run from the US.

Imagine if we were all censored like the people of the "People's" Republic of China.

Labels: award shows, current affairs, marton csokas, music, TV

So I spent the most of the ceremony watching Marton Csokas, as he was being filmed a lot during speeches etc. No big surprises, other than perhaps a few nice ones. I have a feeling the Oscars will be slightly different, like...giving more awards to themselves. And perhaps Scorsese will actually get an Oscar this year, who knows?

Jonathan Ross was a different host to Stephen Fry, unfortunately for him, we would much rather want to hear Fry's play on words than Ross's half-funny remarks.

It would also be nice to have at least half of the recipients present to receive their awards. When three awards in a row had to be brought back off stage by the people giving them out, it became rather embarrassing.

Oh, well, at least I didn't disagree with most of the choices this year.

Labels: award shows, film, marton csokas

First of all: Yum.

Then, finally, I have my own bank account. The funny thing is that it was "dead easy" (not compared to Norwegian banking, though) once I could actually prove that I have a job. Even a silly temp job like I have now. Well, maybe it's not that silly, and I do really like it, even though I have to get up before anyone notices a new day has begun. It could have helped my situation not to go to the local branch (where they asked me to come back some other day to actually get an appointment -- customer service isn't high on their agenda, apparently), of course, so now I have a completely different branch for the rest of my life...which is kind of stupid, since it's somewhere I'm highly unlikely to go to very often in the future, but who cares.

The funniest thing is that they gave me a lot of cheques. I can't believe they still use cheques here. It's so uncommon where I come from I even had to read the instructions to find out how to write one! The night before I got the cheque book I dreamt I went around writing cheques to everyone I met. Not quite sure if it was supposed to be a nightmare or not.

My personal banker, which she will be known as from now on, spent about 15-20 minutes scrutinising my passport, though, and on several occasions I was getting nervous and thinking maybe they wouldn't let me have a bank account because they didn't know how to tell a real passport from a fake one. After all, I did get the passport straight from my local police station in Oslo, and I don't really think they'd give out fake passports. When she told the verifying bank teller on the other end of the phone that 'it has a white mark that looks like Tippex...' I thought 'great, this is where I get arrested for having a fake passport'. It didn't happen, though. Turned out the "Tippex" was perfectly legit and even quite a sophisticated little piece of security measure.

I'm not going to get a credit card for a while, though (and why do they keep saying "credit card" when they actually mean "credit or debit card"? Confusing people. My biggest problem was when by personal banker ended the session with saying 'well, I don't know how they do banking in Norway...' and I wanted to say 'a lot easier than here, that's for sure, and with something called "modern technology"!' I didn't, though. I thought offending my personal banker before she'd actually sent the application would be fatal for my credit rating. But seriously, Norway is way, WAY ahead on so many levels, the British should feel ashamed of their general snottiness when it comes to "the continent".

OK, so the weekend has arrived and I am planning on doing very little. Perhaps we'll go and see a film or two; I saw the trailer for The Exorcism of Emily Rose today and wanted to see that one (also because it has Tom Wilkinson in it, which I didn't know or had forgotten), and of course we may have to see HP4 again. Bother. ;-)

Current track: Covenant - We Stand Alone

Labels: dreams, film, marton csokas, personal, technology, tom wilkinson

Finally, after five days without the 'Net, I'm back for a short visit. Hopefully by this time next week my internet connection will be permanent once again, after almost four months without. Yes, that has been very scary.

On Saturday there was heavy rainfall outside as well as indoors - we were lucky compared to our next-door and upstairs neighbours, whose flats were flooded. Some of it came into our flat as well, but we only needed about ten towels and a bucket and by then the rain had stopped. Who knows what our place would have looked like if we hadn't been at home, though. I think I realise now why the wacky Brits put their electrical sockets halfway up the wall.

It didn't destroy my glee as the fourth series of Spooks started on Monday, though, and in only three days the fifth series of Waking the Dead begins. I am warming up by watching the first series on DVD. Quote from the Radio Times: "Det Supt Boyd (Trevor Eve) and his fantastic beard tackle another gory case". I almost laughed my head off. RT's editor Alison Graham obviously is very fascinated by his beard, not that I blame her.

Anyway. We got our "sorry asses" (thought I should use that expression, since Prince Harry did the very same today, in his first formal interview) off the couch/sofa/settee (all depending on to which class you think you belong) and became involved with a local AmDram group yesterday; my flatmate wants to be on stage all the time while I would like to be as far away from the limelight as humanly possible. Did I hear you shout "set design"? Thought so.

My imported DVD of Evilenko came from Italy via City Airport the other day and was delivered through DHL. Now, that is sad. Made me an even bigger fan of Marton Csokas's, though, which is a good thing (I think).

And finally, as I was looking for facts to support my theory that there are in fact countries out there that don't have any national debt (I protested loudly to this utterance by some previous financial something or other for the British government (it's a bit sad, really, that I didn't catch his name, as that would have made this story much better), as we were watching How to Start Your Own Country (Danny Wallace (or "King Danny", if you're a citizen of Lovely) has to be one of the best new presenters out there, I'm sure - he's so good at what he does that he seems invincible)) - I found this little article from the Telegraph back in 2004 (which would be "last year"). It's about Norway and its relations to the EU. As a firm believer in the EU as well as a fervent pro-EU campaigner back in 1994 (what the hell was I thinking) - even though I wasn't old enough to actually vote - I found this article to be highly interesting (if not just a wee bit too one-sided, but then again hardly any journalism is non-biased these days). A patriot like me wallows in a report like this, but it may also seem like we're awfully selfish. My point of view is that being outside of the EU makes our nation better, our economy flourishes and that way we can contribute much more to the common good of the world than if we were a member. Knowing my luck, this time we'll probably become a member.

I totally forgot about the Norwegian election on Monday, as this country strangely enough was much more interested in the fresh win over the Aussies in the last test of the Ashes; and you're right, I have no idea about cricket. As they were talking about the standing at lunch (I have recently learnt that a cricket match often has two breaks: Lunch and tea. Oh my.) the guy on the news said that the score was 193-5 or something, which meant that things could go either way. In any other sport this would have been a remarkable score, but those cricket maniacs have to show off with their public school code, don't they? I decided I should just wait for the final score and take it from there. Nevertheless, during the weekend I was reminded of the general election back in the old country, and was rather happy about the result. At least the dangerous parties didn't win enough seats to make a majority coalition, which is very good news indeed. Those so-called Christian Democrats and Progress Party (i.e. VERY right wing) people scare me, quite frankly, with all that hate and exclusion they preach. What I find to be ridiculous is how they fail to see that their two agendas can be made into one quite easily. The Christian Democrats don't want to be associated with the rather racist Progress Party, and yet they believe more or less the same things. At least the Progress Party isn't that hypocritical.

Now to some good news. For those of you who actually read the comments on this blog, you may have read Aug's comments about Death of a Salesman (the Oslo version). I finally got to read the reviews today and just as I thought, they seem to think that Dennis Storhøi is too young for the part. I thought the same thing when I heard about it, but then again I'm not a director and should probably keep my mouth shut (even though I don't). Still, good reviews all around...and we do read and heed the reviews when they're on our side, don't we? Ahem. Anyone going to see the play (uhmm...Aug?) had better send my regards to the cast as well as my regrets for not being able to give them most of my money this year, haha! But I'm stuck here for a while, and today I read that Philip Quast will be extending his stay down under until next year. That's just my luck, isn't it.

At least our building may have been on telly last night. That's something, I guess. I'm off to have my usual fish and chips and watch 49Up and all the other quality Thursday viewing. I'm even going to watch The Bill next week, simply because it's going out live.

Current track: Well, I seem to have "Yes Sir, I Can Boogie" on my mind.

Labels: comedy, dennis storhøi, film, marton csokas, nicola walker, Norway, personal, peter firth, philip quast, Spooks, sport, theatre, trevor eve, TV

The problem with being a fan of someone who tends to play the villain or any other expendable character is that they usually die during the first half of the film. No matter what, they will die in the most horrific and/or tragic way. I am looking forward to both The Great Raid and Aeon Flux these next few months - and yes, there's a connection there. Seems like Asylum could be the exception to the rule, but I'm not sure yet.

We went to see The 40-year-old Virgin today, after another dreadful visit at the local Barclays branch. The film was just like we had anticipated: Funny in many places, embarrassing at times, and then a bit slow in between. All in all enjoyable and right out laughing-out-loud several times, but I wouldn't flesh out more than five quid to go see it, so if your nearest cinema is the Odeon, or if you live in Norway, wait for the DVD rentals to come out, or even better, wait until your local TV station shows the film.

Am I the only one sensing a slight musical link between Texas's new single, Getaway with one of the songs off Briskeby's debut album (can't remember which one)? It feels like I've heard parts of it before. Oh, who cares.

Also, I would like to know who came up with the idea of calling a shade of grey monkey. Monkey is by far my favourite word these days, since we saw an episode of Hornblower where this animal was referred to - I had seen the episode before but never thought it to be funny at that time, who knows why.

Current track: U2's newest single, I believe, on The Hits (TV)

Labels: film, marton csokas, music, TV

Yes, it's official; I have turned into Dame Edna. Well, perhaps not, but it was a nice intro.

I was just watching Iris (the film) and I was so amazed at how they'd managed to find the right kind of actors for each part, both when it comes to acting and looks. I was especially amazed at how the Maurices resembled each other...until I read the credits and discovered they were father and son in real life (so sue me; I am devastated that I did not know their real names, because I know their work rather well.)

Now, where have I been? Well, there's Easter of course, spent mostly glued to the radio and/or the telly, and then I just had a lot to do at work and didn't feel like sitting down and telling you about my boring day. Still, I have done a few interesting things. Like finalising my dream cast list for my dream version of Noises Off. It's going to be absolutely wonderful and it'll be a huge hit and the designated theatre would be crazy not to sign me up for this ordeal production. Everyone will love working with me and we'll make heaps of cash, securing the future of the aforementioned theatre. (Humour me.)

I had a bit of a celebration last Friday as I went to see La Cage aux Folles for the fifth time. It was as stunning as ever. The next day they were auctioning off all the costumes and off we went. Didn't have much money, otherwise I would have loved to own one or more of the costumes. Not to wear, but for fun. Great memorabilia! Oh, well, some other time. The auction was great fun, though; despite the strong smell of old liquor and cod (???) from somewhere in the audience. I would have loved to have lots of money and buy a performance just for me and my friends, because its closing date is June 19 and I know I will be sulking for some time afterwards. Woe is me.

Yesterday I watched Timeline, which was slightly crappy, but half saved by the experienced actors. However, a friend of mine (soon to be a superstar, but that's another story) has read the book twice (nearly) and as I reviewed the film with her we discovered that the film follows the novel's storyline like a drunkard follows a straight, white line. Apparently it's like watching a whole new story altogether. I remember vividly how it annoyed me that they'd changed the brand of the car in The Firm and changed the whole scenario of The Runaway Jury and changed the ending of The Vanishing (the Hollywood version, naturally,) but this is ten times as bad. Still, I rediscovered Marton Csokas, so it wasn't a complete waste of time.

The surprise this weekend, however, was that The Butterfly Effect, starring Ashton *gags* Kutcher, turned out to be brilliant! I know! Weird, isn't it? I'm flabbergasted. Mostly because it's my favourite word. So I would recommend that film to everyone. Especially those who thought Memento was a great film (i.e. right-thinking people *winks*.)

Current track: Nothing.

Labels: film, holiday, marton csokas, musicals, radio, theatre, TV