Colin Firth in designer glasses, Sean Bean in a skirt.

I just got back from seeing Percy Jackson, and A Single Man, and despite the fact that tomorrow promises a hellish tube journey (via Tottenham Court Road, with large bulky luggage, on a Saturday. Kill me now.) I just have to post about them both.

I started with A Single Man, which I keep wanting to call both A Serious Man after the Coen's latest film which I never got to see, and A Simple Man, my favourite Lynyrd Skynyrd track. Anyway, I was surprised by how unsurprised I was. Tom Ford's debut is exactly what you'd expect. One third of the film is like watching a perfume advert. A man floating naked underwater. A slow motion owl. Whimpering music. Another third is film student experimenting with his new-found saturation control. Oooh, look how when he's engaged and enjoying life the colour fades back in! I get the symbolism. Stop beating me over the head with it already.



The final third of A Single Man is, however, quite brilliant. Colin Firth is compelling, heartbreaking and hilarious all at once and sometimes all at the same time. When he gets down to just telling the story, Tom Ford does it quite beautifully. If he could drop all the other bullshit (or at least trim it down a bit. I mean, I'm all for beautiful, artistic cinematography provided it doesn't make my arse go to sleep) it would have been perfect. The fact that it is unfalteringly stylish goes without saying, of course.

Now, Percy Jackson and the Lightening Thief has been touted as the new Harry Potter, as has every film starring a teenage boy for the last ten years or so. It isn't. For starters, the writing is dire. The lines are clunky, none of the actors seem particularly sure if this is a drama, a comedy, an action or an outright farce and it doesn't come together particularly well. The support from the likes of Uma Thurman and Pierce Brosnan are cringe-makingly camp, and that's before we get to the glam rock Hades played by Steve Coogan. Yes, Steve Coogan. See now why no one knew whether they should be taking this thing seriously when they were making it?


It's a bit of a shame, as the central premise has some legs. The kids are all half gods, and they end up spending a fair amount of time doing the legwork for their parents whose hands are politically tied. Or sort of. We see the kids of Athena, Poseidon, Hermes, Aphrodite, Ares... I'm curious to see the kids of Dionysus. I bet they're a real riot. The three kid leads (probably all in their twenties, but that's Hollywood) are pretty solid, and do their best with a somewhat confusing, and occasionally strangely paced film that fails to build any real tension whilst spending rather a lot of time on throwaway gags. Some weird product placement (BUY AN IPOD NOW!) and an ending that goes a bit Honey I Shrunk the Kids rounds off this lengthy but not wholly unenjoyable affair.

The trailers were amazing though. That dragon thing looks great. I like cute dragons. Plus something with The Rock as a tooth fairy in ice hockey gear? So dreadful it might be brilliant. Or just dreadful.

CSI: it's all about the ladies. And the serial killers.

I was going to make a "Who" joke but they've all been done before- SPOILERS FOR CSI SEASON 1O EPS WHICH HAVE AIRED ON FIVE IN THE UK


New year, new season of CSI on Five. I wish I could say I was anticipating the start of season ten with excitement, but somehow it's just worn off a little over the years. It's so hard to keep a show like this fresh and exciting and within the realms of reality after all the many, many cases the Vegas grave shift have tackled over the years. To its credit, the minds behind CSI have realised this, and continue to include tantalising character development threads behind the gory case-of-the-week action to keep the audience hanging in there.

Season ten opens by moving Laurence Fishburne's Professor Langston from bumbling newbie to fully trained-up and newly-promoted CSI level 2. Hurrah! There was only so much of Ray getting his tie in the corpse I was willing to put up with. This also allows the show to instead explore Ray's character, starting with his relationship with his violent father and his concern that he may have inherited the same traits. In this respect, Ray has become a perfect alternative to Grissom, lending a quiet depth and tension to every scene. Oh, and did you see him kick that guy through the glass wall in the season opener? Yeah, that was cool.

Catherine is struggling to fill Grissom's shoes as head of the grave shift, whilst Nick gets to step up as the second longest standing member of the team. Fortunately for the bland twins, they're supported by the ever watchable Greg, the deliciously snarky Hodges and my new favourite CSI lady, Wendy, who will hopefully soon graduate from narrative tool to real cast member.

My favourite thing about season ten so far though has to be that Sara is back. I love Sara. I missed Sara. I know everyone loves Grissom, but Sara was the best female character on a police procedural. I could relate to her. She was strong and opinionated, and throughout her time as cast regular she struggled with a crush on her boss, an inability to relate to her coworkers, a lonely lifestyle, alcoholism, and being pinned under a car in the desert with a broken arm.



Mostly I loved Sara's interaction with Catherine. As the two women on the team, they had a relationship that seemed so much more real that the Grissom-as-father-figure theme that was the main thrust of the male characters' interaction. Sara and Catherine initially held each other at a suspicious arm's length, butting heads frequently over their styles of working. Later on, as they worked together, they developed a respect for each other as professionals that became a trust and a friendship. In the two-part season 7 opener, when Catherine awakes in a motel room suspecting she has been the victim of a date rape, she calls Sara in to help her investigate, and avoids telling her male coworkers. Right or wrong, this is a reaction and a relationship that I can believe in.

CSI might not be the most liberal thing on television (there's a fair amount of stereotypical evil women murderers and swaggering black drug dealers propping up the plots) but it drip-feeds character development in a way that keeps me watching. Not to mention that the trend towards serial killer arcs in recent seasons (the Miniature Killer was brilliant) helps to keep me tuned in. This year's Dr Jekyll, tying up a corpse's intestine in a bow, in wonderfully macabre! I can't wait to find out more.