As a palaeontology student, I have often wondered whether my years of study at university will actually be useful: will my knowledge ever help anyone? Consider, for example, the three scientists from Stockholm University who in 2002 wrote a paper entitled ‘Chickens Prefer Beautiful Humans’. Or the combined might of seven Australian scientists that it took to produce ‘An Analysis of the Forces Required to Drag Sheep over Various Surfaces’. Depending on your disposition, these papers will either make you laugh or despair – these people must be intelligent, so why are they wasting their time on such trivial matters? However, once I began to dig a bit deeper, it became apparent that the benefits of such science can be far-reaching and entirely unexpected. In defence, then, of improbable knowledge, I offer here a brief tour of how some of this more dubious research has helped the likes of you and me.

Space travel always seems to be in for a kicking. It’s certainly exciting, but what benefits does it have down here on Earth? NASA’s eye-watering budget – this year’s being just shy of $4.5 billion – probably doesn’t help garner sympathy. Yet the challenges of keeping men and women alive in outer space have forced scientists to think well and truly outside the box – often with brilliant results. Consider the kidney dialysis machine, which helps an estimated 20,000 people in the UK alone. Without this treatment kidney failure would eventually prove fatal. The first dialysis machine was invented in 1943 by the brilliant Dutch physician Willem Kolff, who, owing to the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands, had to improvise with beer cans, sausage casing and a washing machine. It was substantially improved when NASA began investigations into water purification for long space flights. The method of removing toxic chemicals that they came up with, known as ‘sorbent dialysis’, was found to be much more efficient at removing toxins from the blood than previous dialysis methods.

If you have ever been woken up by a smoke alarm, you may again thank – perhaps grudgingly – NASA, which needed to create a machine sensitive to smoke for the Skylab space station that was in orbit from 1973-1979. Ignoring the slight inconvenience of a ruined lie-in, the smoke alarm has saved countless lives since its creation. The list of inventions reliant on space travel goes on and on: digital cameras, long-distance phone calls, the CT scan, cordless tools. Even the padding in the soles of your trainers was originally developed to cushion astronauts during launch.

$4.5 Billion – NASA’s budget

We now return to solid ground and onto something far less glamorous: the screw worm fly. These flies make a truly nasty living by laying their eggs in the wounds of cattle and humans. When the eggs hatch maggots then proceed to eat the animal from the inside out until it drops down dead from shock and ammonia poisoning. To some people, Dr Martin Hall’s expertise in this type of fly may seem a trifle inconsequential, especially when life sciences is still haunted by the Nobel prize-winning Ernest Rutherford’s damning view that ‘all science is either physics or stamp collecting’. However, when Hall discovered that the New World screw worm fly had inadvertently been introduced into Libya in 1989, he recognised that it presented a potential catastrophe to the continent. Were the fly to spread, not only would all domestic bovine livestock be threatened, but so would Africa’s many wild cattle and its millions of human habitats. Hall had to rear some of the maggots into adult flies in his hotel room before the government would believe him, but, authorities alerted, an international effort quickly eliminated the population within the next three years, using the radioactive isotope, Cs135, to sterilise the male flies.

Ever heard of cryptogamy? To many, the study of algae, mosses, lichens and the like may seem a rather remote, genteel affair compared to, say, weapons technology, but it may have helped us win the Second World War. Geoffrey Tandy, a seaweed curator at the Natural History Museum (yes, that is a job) was accidently recruited to help crack the Enigma Code when the Ministry of Defence mixed up cryptogamy with cryptography, the art of solving codes. However, his knowledge of preserving seaweed specimens was crucially important when soaked notebooks were recovered from German U-Boats. Using the technique he had learned for drying seaweed, he was able to recover the coded messages written in the notebooks, thereby helping the Allies gain an enormous advantage over the Nazis. It is now thought that solving the Enigma code helped shorten the war by up to two years.

So if anyone else is struggling to care about their poster project, that essay due in next Friday, or even their entire course: have faith. From comfortable shoes to winning a war, it might just lead to the innovation the world was waiting for.

Filed under: Science by Nick Cork
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With ITV’s Downton Abbey dominating the ratings, the BBC needed a costume drama of their own to compete with. Enter Great Expectations, the Dickens classic with all the right ingredients for a Christmas hit: the hero of the tale is an orphaned underdog who goes by the delightful name of Pip faced with an eerie old spinster. Add in a heart wrenching will they/won’t they romance, some ballroom dancing, a sizable budget and the fact that it just so happens to also be coming up to Dickens’ 200th birthday and everything begins to come together nicely.

Or so the BBC would like to think. TV adaptations of beloved books have long been subject to intense scrutiny by die-hard fans of the novel: if they stick rigidly to the book, they lack originality; if they stray too far, they are sullying the book’s great name. Sarah Phelps, writer of the 2011 BBC three part adaptation, chose to take the risk of not sticking too faithfully to the original text, altering Miss Havisham’s demise and choosing an ending more closely fitting to Dickens’ rewritten, happier ending, as opposed to his original, rather more depressing, conclusion. The casting of 43 year-old Gillian Anderson (of X Files fame) as the old spinster Miss Havisham has been the hottest source of contention. Anderson has been criticised for being too young to take on the legendary old spinster. It appears these critics have missed the point of Anderson’s casting. It is not an attempt to make Miss Havisham more sexy, but rather to allude to her inability to move on from the fateful day she was jilted by her great love. She has been trapped in that same body. The real problem with this Miss Havisham is not her age but her styling: the hair, makeup and Satis House appear more befitting for a 1980s Meat Loaf video than a Victoria melodrama.

The casting of Douglas Booth as Pip is another controversial issue. Many audience members will surely admit the real draw of the series is Booth’s extraordinary beauty. The gorgeous Vanessa Kirby (Estella) pales in prettiness next to Booth. His cheekbones, chiselled to perfection, and enchanting cherub lips make it impossible to tell whether or not Booth can actually act. What one can ascertain from the series is ex-Burberry model Booth is fantastic at smouldering, and pouting, and can even do both at the same time. His beauty is a double-edged sword: although a crowd pleaser, his appeal draws on the 21st century fashion for androgyny (no surprise he rose to fame playing Boy George in the 2010 drama Worried About Boy.) I kept expecting him to stroll into the shot with an undercut, skinny jeans and check shirt. His delicate looks seem somehow out of place and inauthentic in the setting of a gritty Victorian melodrama.

The earthy performances of Shaun Dooley (Joe Gargery), Clare Rushbrook (Mrs. Joe) and Jack Roth (Dolge Orlick) helps to ground the series as well as an outstanding performance from Tom Burke as Bentley Drummle. Burke pulls off Drummle’s smug swagger as if the part was written for him, commanding each shot with his haughty sneer.

The casting of Ray Winstone as Abel Magwitch and David Suchet as Jaggers are of no surprise. They are the two most established actors on the cast list and they are both put to good use. Winstone is in his comfort zone as the tough yet vulnerable Abel Magwitch, while Poirot actor Suchet is the perfect fit for Jaggers, the man with all the answers.

Although Booth may not be quite of the same calibre as, say, Colin Firth in the BBC’s 1995 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, his efforts are decent and what he lacks in experience he masks with his angelic face. The raw grit that determines a Dickens creation can be found in the performances of Dooley, Rushbrook, Winstone and Burke. Ultimately, the BBC has attempted to please everyone by combining twenty-first century eye-candy with Victorian tragedy. An ambitious task, but one which has managed to redirect some of the limelight away from ITV.

Filed under: Film & TV by Anthony Adeane
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For anyone persistently avoiding any modicum of academic toil over the festive season, and happily perusing the abundance of television offerings, the BBC’s Sherlock was surely the peak of our procrastinations.

Following the universally-heralded first season, Mark Gatiss and Stephen Moffatt resolutely triumph in returning Sherlock to our screens undiminished. For those yet to become captivated aficionados of the series, this is Sherlock Holmes ingeniously metamorphosed into the 21st century. Despite our arcane preconceptions of the Victorian age, Sherlock has always been a man of modern methods, and it is the quest of adaptations today to translate his inventive initiative in a manner that resonates with us as a contemporary audience. However, appearing progressive these days is no easy task with the surfeit of science fiction innovations that preside over our screens. Indeed, as the gentlemen behind Dr Who, the team is well accustomed to the exploitations of exaggerated, imaginative license. However, here, Gatiss and Moffat get it just right. This is sat-nav, texting, blogs, and the royal family being blackmailed from an iPhone. Nothing has been lost since series one and the sheer pace of it is exhilarating, continuing to give their manipulations of the original plot-lines an updated, dynamic force. Indeed, Sherlock’s finesse and logical reasoning now revolves around the wielding of his mobile telephone, albeit the harpoon of episode two with which he has brazenly travelled, blood soaked, on the tube. Apparently to Sherlock: most ‘tedious’! Meanwhile, Sherlock has a wryly comic resistance to its predecessors. Basil Rathbone’s symptomatic deerstalker appears as the subject of a notorious press shot of Cumberbatch in fancy dress, and becomes a source of increasing exasperation. Even the infamous Baskerville Hall has become an MoD testing site.

The jumpy editing that illustrates Sherlock’s empirical detections has an uncanny resemblance to the recent, highly successful film adaptations by Guy Ritchie. Both instil their concepts with a jocular tone and the whole production is imbued with much the same vibe: slowed down action sequences, cutting close-ups, and dizzying streams of information. The soundtracks too are oddly analogous, both compositions contrasting the same earthy, racing quality to the sinister strains of on-setting mystery. Gatiss and Moffat however enforce their technocratic agenda still further as Sherlock’s thoughts materialize as text on screen. Sherlock also, looking frankly a little hilarious, navigates his way around his ‘mind palace’ using his hands as if to conduct a projected computer; the information processing becomes a game of associations and an escalating flurry of sly witticism.

Both adaptations work, Sherlock’s cold grey modern London and Ritchie’s luxuriously textured period setting. Yet, the secret of reinventing the Victorian drama is not quite elementary. The task is not one of creating a lavishly styled re-envisaging that is almost entirely devoid of substance – anyone watching the cardboard vacuity of Great Expectations must have been hard pressed to rouse any reaction – but rather retaining the vital essence of their characters that has augmented their enduring appeal. Wherever one renders the world of Sherlock Holmes, it will be inevitably outshone by the sheer charisma of his character. Especially when Sherlock is the mesmeric Benedict Cumberbatch. Cumberbatch’s Sherlock is eccentric, egocentric, marvellously rebellious, cruelly exceptional, and indefinably attractive. Rather elongated and less brawny than Robert Downey Jr., but for both Sherlocks, it is their unabashed humility and indifference to all social decorum that produces such divinely outrageous comedy. They capture the magnetic enigma of his genius that has sustained his fictional legacy whilst also managing to retain a darker sense of the character: his emotional capacity to love (flirtations with Irene Adler simmer over sexting), or ‘feel fear’ give the character just the right measure of weightiness.

My only real qualm with the series is the weakness of the supporting cast to equal the luminosity of its Sherlock. Watson (Martin Freeman) is just faintly mundane. He does not appear as either medical or militaristic, and consequently any sparring rapport with Sherlock looks tremendously one sided. Correspondingly Moriarty (Andrew Scott), in what I deduce to be an effort to sustain the more youthful vibrancy of their take, is emphatically lacking in any trace of menace. Scott is small, juvenile, temperamental and far too trivial to pose any believable threat.

However these criticisms are really minimal transgressions of what otherwise is a beautifully engineered and finished creation. It has an irresistible charm and a fantastically written, dazzlingly sharp script. Gatiss and Moffat craft a Sherlock that is wholly inspired, on the cusp of everything new, utilizing every gadget and thrillingly fresh in a manner that remains devoted to what is integral to the original. Sherlock’s biting brilliance has been introduced to the modern age.

Filed under: Film & TV by Anthony Adeane
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I’m five minutes into Steven Spielberg’s War Horse, and I’m worried.

After several sweeping shots of the British countryside an extremely fresh-faced young actor is running through a field with what looks like the backdrop to Midsomer Murders. All this set to an almost comically over-epic string score composed by John Williams. With two hours and twenty-one minutes left to run, suddenly this seat isn’t feeling so comfortable.

War Horse is Spielberg’s adaptation of Michael Morpurgo’s hugely popular book which became a worldwide hit in the theatre. The story follows the journey and relationship of a horse (Joey) and its owner, Albert (Jeremy Irvine), who are separated from the Yorkshire countryside by the First World War.

Not even a quarter of the way in and we have our first major animal-based triumph as Joey defies the landlord and ploughs the field to great cheers from the villagers, a scattering of scripted clichés and yet more larger-than-life music from Williams. The film continues like this for much of its duration as we follow the journey of the horse being passed from owner to owner – the horse usually fares far better then its owners – taking time only to run miraculously through no man’s land and unite the British and German forces. In fact it becomes pretty clear that the best actors in this film are the horses themselves, and they are, at times, mesmerizing. But a word of warning: this film will definitely not appeal to any self-perceived macho men. In fact even the softest of women may find the unashamed quantity of ‘cheesy moments’ quite difficult to stomach.

Where this film does impress however is when Spielberg is doing what he does best. In between some of the heavy emotional material are one or two brilliantly directed battle scenes. The representation of the Battle of the Somme is impressively chilling whilst a special mention must go to a scene featuring doomed British cavalry, with the ever-talented Benedict Cumberbatch, charging and yet almost floating through a French cornfield, reminding us of just how good Spielberg can be. Unfortunately these moments are just too few and far between to keep the audience engaged in the film.

This film follows in the footsteps of many of Spielberg’s recent offerings. The glimpses of a former genius are still evident beneath layers of poor plotting and a feeling that the production may have been rushed. It is a big sweeping candyfloss of a film that for many may be far too sickly sweet.

Filed under: Film & TV by Anthony Adeane
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Following on from his impressive feature debut Hunger, the latest film from artist-turned-auteur Steve McQueen is a dark, brooding affair, depicting the seediest side of human nature and human desire.

Brandon (Michael Fassbender) has cultivated for himself distinctly different public and private personae. To those familiar with his public projection Brandon is charming, liked by his colleagues and a clear favourite of his sleazy boss, who, despite his marital status, encourages Brandon to join him traipsing through bars hoping to pick up woman.

Behind the closed doors of his sterile, clinical apartment, Brandon is nothing more than a shell of a man. His apartment – spotless, virginal – is at odds with the increasingly depraved acts that take place within: Brandon is, as the film’s opening graphically depicts, a sex addict. His addiction is all-consuming: for Brandon, sex itself is no longer a pleasure, instead it has become a desperately-needed relief in order for him to function daily.

Brandon, despite this damaging addiction, is able to exist in daily life: discreetly visiting the staff bathroom to relieve himself during the day and downloading graphic content upon his work’s computer, whilst employing the services of prostitutes at night. Brandon would continue to exist in this manner, trapped in a self-abusing, self-destructive pattern, were it not for the arrival of his flighty, damaged younger sister Sissy (Carey Mulligan), who provides the catalyst for the film’s subsequent narrative.

Sissy is as much of an addict as Brandon: for Brandon, sex provides gratification and fulfilment, for Sissy, the sexual liaisons she engages in smack of her own personal desperation. Sissy, in her lonely, desperate state, just wants to be needed and to be loved.

Brandon and Sissy’s relationship is cloying, hinting at an implicit claustrophobic incestuous nature. Sissy, despite the private acts the pair both actively engage in, appears to have little regard or recognition for personal space. Little is told about their background, but it is apparent that something traumatic has occurred for the pair to behave in such a manner.

The cast are wonderful: both Mulligan and Fassbender’s performances are compellingly nuanced, both literally and figuratively exposing themselves completely. Despite Mulligan’s admirable efforts, there is little doubt that this is, at all times, Fassbender’s film.

McQueen’s trademark sustained shots enable Fassbender to demonstrate the multi-faceted approach he brings to Brandon’s character. Later in the film we witness first-hand, through a lingering close-up, Brandon’s ultimately empty, soulless drive for desire.

Critics of the film may find it hard to empathise with a character so devoid of any warmth, but importantly, this is precisely what Brandon’s desires have resulted in – he has become little more than a man continually looking for sexual relief, and it is to Fassbender’s credit that he can create a mesmerising performance with such a character. A raw, often horrific depiction of human desperation, Shame commands the viewer’s attention – try as we might, it’s impossible to look away.

Filed under: Film & TV by Anthony Adeane
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2012 is being characterised as a year of franchises, adaptations and re-makes. At first glance, this may seem uninspiring, evoking that oft-cited criticism of filmmakers: that their creativity can’t keep up with their constant quest for the economically successful. This impression is further reinforced by 2012’s series of 3D re-releases, including The Phantom Menace (Feb 9th), Titanic (Apr 6th) and Finding Nemo (Sep 14th). However, critics are not at all morose about the coming 12 months; indeed, some are speaking of it as the most exciting year in film for decades.

January is marked by the last wave of Oscar hopefuls. The award for Best Actor is difficult to predict, but the ones to watch include Leonardo diCaprio as the first director of the FBI in J. Edgar (Jan 20th) and George Clooney as the ‘back-up parent’ suddenly finding himself responsible for his two daughters in The Descendants (27th Jan). Meanwhile, Meryl Streep’s portrayal of Margaret Thatcher in The Iron Lady (6th Jan) and Charlize Theron’s incarnation of a failing writer in comedy drama Young Adult (3rd Feb) are likely to complete the line-up for Best Actress. The last big contender for Best Film will be Steven Spielberg’s War Horse (Jan 13th); a story of the friendship between a young soldier and his horse during the First World War.

In 2012, there is one thing of which there can be little doubt: summer belongs to the superheroes. The first to don their costumes and flex their muscles will be The Avengers (Apr 27th), in which Iron Man, the Incredible Hulk, Captain America and Thor join forces to protect earth from Loki and his alien soldiers. Next, Andrew Garfield is the new face of Peter Parker in The Amazing Spider-Man (July 4th), a series reboot under the direction of Marc Webb. Two weeks later, The Dark Knight Rises (July 20th) sees the return of Batman and, after the phenomenal success of the Nolan’s first two films, expectations will be high for the trilogy’s conclusion. Finally, Karl Urban will star in Dredd (Sep 21st) as the iconic lawman and Britain’s most famous comic book character.

The list of returning franchises carries on. The Bourne series continues with The Bourne Legacy (Aug 17th) despite the absence of Matt Damon as Jason Bourne. Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones reprieve their roles after a ten year absence in Men in Black 3 (May 25th), the Twilight Saga comes to an end with Breaking Dawn – Part 2 (16th November) and Daniel Craig returns as James Bond in Skyfall (Oct 26th) with Javier Bardem assuming the role of the villain. Finally, Peter Jackson returns to Middle-Earth with the first part of his adaptation of J.R.R. Tolkien’s famous prequel in The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey (Dec 14th).

Adaptations also abound in 2012. Keira Knightley will play the title role in an adaptation of Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina (Aug 7th), Robert Pattinson will play the amoral Georges Duroy in Maupassant’s Bel Ami (March 2nd) and Leonardo DiCaprio will lead the cast of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby (Dec 25th). Even fairy tales are receiving the Hollywood treatment. Snow White will make two appearances this year; one in the form of Lily Collins in Mirror Mirror (March 16th) and one in the form of Kristen Stewart in Snow White and the Huntsman (June 1st). Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (March 2nd) will show how the siblings escape the gingerbread house and become bounty hunters.

There will also be plenty to keep cinema-goers laughing this year. Sacha Baron Cohen returns with The Dictator (May 18th), fiercely keeping democracy out of his country; Creator of Family Guy Seth MacFarlane makes his live-action directorial debut in Ted (Aug 3rd), following the story of a man whose teddy bear came to life after a childhood wish; the cast of American Pie returns for the American Reunion (April 6th); and Ben Stiller and Vince Vaughn team up in Neighbourhood Watch (Aug 22nd) as a group of suburban fathers required to fight off an alien invasion. Also, those in search of light entertainment won’t go far wrong with The Muppets (Feb 10th), Aardman’s The Pirates! In an Adventure with the Scientists (March 28th) or Pixar’s Scottish-flavoured offering Brave (Aug 17th).

This preview of 2012 can’t claim in any way to be exhaustive and there will be some quite inexcusable absences from it; so, keep an eye out for what’s on and enjoy what will surely be a very good year in film.

Filed under: Film & TV by Anthony Adeane
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Three years ago, I had barely heard of silent cinema. It was the midst of my A levels and my parents, sick of me moping around the house leaving trails of highlighters in my wake, treated me to an evening at the Hackney Empire. With no idea what to expect, my night comprised of a selection of silent films accompanied by a four piece band and piano. I haven’t laughed so hard whilst sat in front of a screen since.

Some people might say that silent films are obsolete, and what’s the fun in not having a soundtrack when there are so many new films that come with 3D-edible glitter-smothered multitasking experiences for your eyes and ears as standard? They may not be to everyone’s taste, but this type of cinema has many things to offer.

This is where modern cinema started, with the ‘silent era’ stretching from 1888 to the late 1920s. The basic model of a silent film is one that is, well, silent. There is a soundtrack, but no spoken dialogue. They can be long or short. The lack of sound does not diminish the narrative in any way, and they are eminently accessible and watchable even for the discerning modern day audience.

I was lucky enough to have the ideal introduction to silent cinema. These films are meant to be watched in a theatre with a red carpet and swishy velvet curtains, not in bed on a glowing laptop screen. The lack of dialogue or CGI sound effects focuses your concentration on the acting and plot. While this is great, it makes it difficult to multitask as you lose the plot completely – best leave painting your nails for another day, as fans of The Killing well know.

Unlikely as it may sound, those who are fond of modern ‘rom-coms’ may come to love the melodrama of silent movies. A recovering addict myself, you can feel free to indulge in the soppiness safe in the knowledge that in these early films, the plots hadn’t had the chance to become clichéd as it was the first time it had been told on screen. You can also enjoy the smug feeling that comes when you do something cultural and vaguely intellectual. Try saying to a flatmate ‘I can’t cook dinner tonight, I’m studying the birth of English cinema’ and see the reaction you get. They’ll probably call you something rude but the sanctimonious feeling will remain nonetheless.

Apart from anything else, these films are really, really funny. Two stars of this era, Buster Keaton and Charlie Chapin, are still considered to be heroes of physical comedy and slapstick. These men pulled off stunts that were dangerous even at the time, the most notable being Keaton’s famous trick of having a barn door fall on him whilst he stood in the gap where the window landed, avoiding being squashed by a few inches.

While the stories told through this medium may be simple, they are hugely accentuated by the drama provided by the actors. Actions and facial expressions are often exaggerated because many of the new film stars came from a theatre background. Whilst in later films the acting is more naturalistic because the audience thought it too over-dramatic, the early offerings provide much of that glorious melodrama.

The soundtrack for silent films understandably had to be interesting as it essentially took the place of dialogue. Every cinema used to be equipped with an organ or piano that was manned by the resident musician, who would improvise an accompaniment whilst the film played behind them. These scores impacted hugely on the audience’s reception of the film, emphasizing the emotions and events on screen. The tropes of cheesy soundtracks were at least partly inspired by this – think of the mournful violins we know so well, their vibrato quivering like the tears about to drop from the heroine’s eyes.

Despite all the praise I’ve heaped upon these films, they’re not perfect. Those easily offended would probably be horrified at the misogynistic and racist values they uphold. These standards were the norm at the time, however, and although they are unpleasant to see it is a useful indicator to see how far society has moved on.

In addition to changing attitudes, silent films show how far the film industry has come since those early days. Some modern films would do well to look back and see how it used to be done (Pirate of the Caribbean 4, I’m looking at you…). It may be film-making at its rawest, but they are still relevant and just as funny as they’ve ever been, and I doubt they will ever age enough to become obsolete and unenjoyable.

Anyone looking for a basic introduction should type ‘Buster Keaton Seven Chances chase’ into YouTube and chortle wildly at what follows.

Filed under: Film & TV by Anthony Adeane
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