Simulating catharsis: a look back at Total Recall

In the future, Earth is stuck in a perpetual war between northern and southern blocks. Mars is a North Block colony under the dictatorial rule of Coohagen (Ronny Cox), who uses his control of the air supply to control dissent. Back on Earth, a construction worker called Doug Quaid (Schwarzengger) has visions of Mars. Despite his wife Lori (Sharon Stone) and friends' warnings, Quaid decides the only way to get over his obsession is to get a memory implant of a vacation to the red planet, in which he plays a secret agent on a mission to save Mars and fall in love with a beautiful brunette.

Something goes wrong during the procedure, leading Quaid to realise that his entire life is a false memory and that he is really Hauser, a secret agent working for Coohagen who saw the light and decided to turn traitor after falling in love with Melina (Rachel Ticotin), a beautiful brunette. Cohaagen had him brainwashed and dumped back on Earth.

Determined to figure out what is going on, Quaid heads to Mars to discover his past and confront the man who destroyed his life...

Well, that's one way of looking at it.

Total Recall was inspired by the short story 'We Can Remember It For You Wholesale', written by the late, great Philip K. Dick. The story is not very long - it is literally just the memory implant scene. The big difference is that in the story, when the technicians realise their client has already had memory implant, during their attempts to find out who he is, they discover another memory implant within the first one. The story ends mid-stream, as the baffled  technicians discover another personality buried under that memory implant. And so on, and so forth. It is a comic spin on notions of identity, memory and reality. If a simulation looks and feels real, how would you know? In both story and film, there are no easy answers.

In writing the movie, screenwriters Ronald Shussett and Dan O'Bannon (the creators of Alien) used the story as a jumping-off point. The project took over a decade to get to screens, moving through directors as diverse as Richard Rush (The Stunt Man), David Cronenberg (The Fly) and Bruce Beresford (Driving Miss Daisy). When the movie was finally green-lit, the man tasked with bringing the story to the screen was Dutch filmmaker Paul Verhoeven.

I recently read an interview with Verhoeven in which he compared Total Recall to the idea of Schrodinger's Cat in the way that it never makes clear whether Quaid's experiences are real or all in his head. The movie is meant to work with both readings.

This analogy works for all of Verhoeven's movies. RoboCop is an 80s action movie that also subverts the genre - RoboCop is a one-man-army who kills the requisite number of bad 'uns, but what Verhoeven does is show the impact of his (and the genre's) arbitrary use of violence. Starship Troopers is more overt, acting as a war movie which is also a scathing commentary on  America's obsession with military power, violence and blind patriotism. Released at the dawn of a new decade, Total Recall is a summation and indictment of the previous decade's pop culture, both on and off-screen.

Total Recall takes RoboCop's satire of neoliberalism and takes it to its most logical extreme (not only do the corporations control the government, they control the very air you breathe). Like Dick Jones (Ronny Cox) in that movie, Mars' overlord Coohagen (also Cox) is an ultra-capitalist but even more extreme - he is less a CEO and more a futuristic version of a robber baron in the old west, or a governor in a far-flung colony. A hyperbolic extrapolation of 80s capitalism and saver-rattling geopolitics, its commentary is made all the more pointed by the casting of its star, the most hyperbolic emblem of the era's obsession with cinematic machismo.

The film is also the point where Arnold Schwarzenegger became the icon he is now. After a breakout role in 1982's Conan the Barbarian, he carved out a niche as a B list action star with a series of action and science fiction movies. Some, like The Terminator, Commando and Predator were decent hits and critically successful; others (Raw Deal, Reds Sonja & Heat) less so. And then in 1988, he made his first foray into comedy with Twins, co-starring Danny DeVito. The movie was a huge hit, proving his comedic chops and introducing Schwarzenegger to a mainstream, non-genre audience. Schwarzengger was now emerging out of the B list, and Total Recall was the movie which would consolidate his broad appeal, becoming the first of his traditional vehicles to become a genuine blockbuster.

I have theory about this movie, and why it is one of Schwarzenegger's best. It is the one movie which does the best job at skewering the excesses and deranged masculinity underpinning his star persona. In that respect, Total Recall continues RoboCop's emphasis on the fascistic implications of its hyper-violent hero, only here he gets to play with the persona of the genre's most emblematic star.

Arnie's movies have always had an ironic edge - most of the filmmakers he has worked with have shown at least a degree of recognition about the sheer ridiculousness of their leading man. The Terminator's most iconic humorous moment ('I'll be back') is not meant to be funny, but when it is set against Schwarzenegger's massive frame, it gains a strange ironic quality, a sense of black humour that was picked and carried through successive vehicles such as Commando, Predator and Total Recall.  Taken in overview, Arnie's filmography appears to be a meta textual dare: is this behemoth believable as a robot/soldier/twin/kindergarten cop?

Within the context of a story based on questioning reality (and a filmmaker hellbent on hedging his bets), Schwarzenegger's antics become even more ridiculous. Because of the information within the movie, Quaid's Martian adventures are easy to question - especially during the film's many action sequences (why is this hulking man not hit?; why are people not dying when the outer shields are breached?). Even the introduction of an alien MacGuffin which can literally solve all of Mars' problems in a few minutes adds to the sense of ridiculousness.

Everything about Schwarzenegger's character, Doug Quaid, is hyperbolic. When he is introduced, Quaid is depicted as an ordinary working man, but it is a vision of domestic bliss pushed to the extreme. He also has a beautiful blonde housewife, who is introduced as a sex object for his gratification. He also has an insane degree of financial stability (his apartment including a holographic tennis instructor, virtual scenic views and he can contemplate vacations to other planets). He works as a construction worker, a job made all the more macho in the one scene of Quaid at work. Like Rambo at the beginning of Rambo II, he is shown breaking rocks, his massive arms holding a massive drill - it is everyman as cartoon.

And then there is the violence. It's what you expect from an Arnie movie, albeit leavened with a wink and a one-liner (ala James Bond). With the mad Dutchman at the tiller, the violence comes with an added bite. Verhoeven's movies are extremely controversial for their violence and sexual content, but there is always a sense of purpose to the excess. Unlike previous Ah-nuld vehicles, with Verhoeven the excess is never the punchline. The basis of Verhoeven's subversion does not come from a desire to turn reality into a cartoon, but the inverse. No matter how crazy the violence gets, Verhoeven blends it with a dose of reality that grounds it and highlights how horrific it is.

One example of subversion is the shootout on the escalator - specifically the beat where the villains shoot at Quaid and accidentally hit an innocent bystander. As the shootout continues, Quaid uses this corpse as a shield while he blows the villains away. When another group of villains appear at the base of the escalator, he spins the corpse around to catch their fire. The human shield is a familiar action movie trope of the era, and recognisably Schwarzeneggerean (gleefully lampooned in Austin Powers 2). By having this character be an innocent, rather than an antagonist, it draws attention to the often careless cruelty of eighties action heroes. When the character is a villain, we as viewers quickly reframe it as right and moral. But in Verhoeven's hands, we are forced to contemplate the violence stripped of its moral justification.

While this approach does subvert the cartoonish-ness of the action, it also gives the film a real sense of stakes. The sequences in which Coohagen's troops, backlit by the drills, gun down the resistance fighters, and the earlier scene in which the residents of Venusville have to watch as the fans pumping oxygen into their sector slow to a standstill. Verhoeven grew up during the Nazi occupation of Holland, and has talked about how the juxtaposition of childhood banality and sudden violence shaped his work. That tension between violent escapism and its consequences is an underlying dynamic in Verhoeven's work, and within the paranoid frame of Total Recall he has the perfect vehicle for his duelling occupations.

There are aspects of the film which do not stand up to snuff - my major criticism is the relative marginalisation of the female leads into a simplistic good-bad girl dichotomy. While Rachel Ticotin lends her character Melina a toughness that makes her believable as a partner to Schwarzenegger, the character is little more than a male fantasy - a hooker with a heart of gold who can also kick ass.

However while Melina and Lori's roles are barely more than archetypes, it does offer an opportunity for Verhoeven to undermine Arnie's machismo, and offer a re-working of the stock romantic leads of Ah-nuld's previous movies. Throughout the movie, Quaid is on the back foot with both of his lover interests (which is a nice flip-side to his borderline rape tactics in The Running Man). At various points Quaid is beaten up, objectified and rescued by them. This had never happened in one of his vehicles before. In previous movies, female characters are desexualised tagalongs (Commando, Predator) or arbitrary love interests (Raw Deal, The Running Man) that Arnie gets because he's the lead of the movie. Here, one woman is only with him to monitor and imprison him on Earth; the other is a self-sufficient freedom fighter who might be a figment of his imagination.

Could more have been done with these characters? Definitely. Romantic leads in action movies are generally the least well-drawn in the genre. Total Recall deserves credit for highlighting the limitations of the archetype (Quaid's description of his dream woman ('athletic build, sleazy but demure') could be mapped onto most of the throwaway love interests in the genre), but it does not do much to expand upon the template.

The dichotomy between 'good' and 'bad' woman is one of the elements Total Recall shares with classic noir. Through this lens, Quaid is a fall guy in a situation he does not full understand. The ambiguity of the ending, where his fate remains in the air, is a perfect distillation of the film noir protagonist's dilemma - almost every noir, from Double Indemnity through Chinatown and Blade Runner, is about someone who loses control of events and finds themselves unable to get back to a place of equilibrium. That description fits Total Recall perfectly - it is a great juggling act between different interpretations.

Am I talking rubbish? Is Total Recall just a big dumb action movie? Yes, but that overlooks the fact that it is also tonally and thematically ambitious. The joy of this movie versus, say, Terminator 2, is that rewards whatever expectations you bring to it. Terminator 2 is a great movie, but it is meant to be taken as a straightforward dramatic narrative. Total Recall is the rare case where the filmmakers are having their cake and eating it, and it actually makes the movie better. You could make the argument that the movie's satirical edge is not intentional, and its excess is just mean-spirited - which is totally valid. The demands of the story and the generic requirements of being an action movie throw every choice the filmmakers make into doubt. It gives the movie another layer of ambiguity - which makes the movie more interesting to discuss.

Ultimately, Total Recall is whatever you want it to be.

Related reviews

Predator & The Running Man

IN THEATRES: Flatliners & Lady Macbeth

Here is a double barrelled review of this weekend's new releases. At first look, there is not much linking them together - but they actually ended up sharing a few key ideas.

Flatliners
Trying to figure out if there is something after death, a group of medical students intentionally stop their hearts to experience death and see if there is something on the other side. After they return, they realise that they have brought something back with them...

In advance of the remake, I took a look at the original Flatliners, directed by Joel Schumacher and starring Kiefer Sutherland, Kevin Bacon and Julia Roberts. I had never seen it before. Watching the original, it felt like a great premise looking for a great movie. It had a good cast, and some great photography from Jan De Bont, but my god is the movie corny. And while the concept sounds terrifying (what if your sins came back to haunt you?) the 1990 movie never goes anywhere that dark.

Watching the remake (directed by Niels Arden Oplev), a couple of aspects stood out.

In terms of characterisation, the remake is a big step up from the 1990 iteration. With the original, the characters felt like sketches - with this one, the filmmakers have come up with a group of clearly defined characters with a believable motivation for joining together on this crazy experiment. In the original, the characters were united by a sense of hubris - a belief that, since they were the most talented students in the school, they could handle the experiment they were undertaking.

With Flatliners '17, the characters are driven by their own personal motives which are then fed into the particular 'sin' that haunts them. Courtney (Ellen Page), the instigator of the experiment, is driven by a desire to see a loved one who she wronged. Unlike Kiefer Sutherland's lead from the original, she uses guile to get the other characters to help her. More believably, two of the characters, Ray (Diego Luna) and Marlo (Nina Dobrev) are not even a part of the experiment and are pulled in when  Jamie (James Norton) and Sophia (Kiersey Clemons) are unable to revive Courtney.

The characters and their sins feel far more interesting, and the movie focuses on how each character is struggling to deal with the pressures of medical school. Related to this is a subtext about class and privilege which is missing from the '90 version. Marlo and Jamie are from wealthy backgrounds - while Marlo has worked hard, she is also carrying a dangerous level of self-belief in her worth as a doctor, and has used that as an excuse to cover up a crime that could jeopardise her future. Jamie is a rich playboy with no real interest in medicine - he's coasting through school, living on a boat and a steady diet of one night stands. His only goal is to become the next celebrity doctor.

Jamie, the movie's resident d*bag

By contrast, Luna's Ray is a former fire man with a genuine desire to help people. And Clemons' Sophia is a straight A student driven to the brink by her mother's desire to see her become a doctor. She is under the most pressure (she brings up the fact that her mother sunk her life savings into her education), and her sin is an outgrowth of that desire to please her mother. Sophia has the most relatable motive for flatlining - when Courtney emerges from the experience with a boosted memory, Sophia becomes anxious to try it out so she can ace the exams.

Sophia. She doesn't like Jamie that much

This leads me to my next point: the execution of the 'flatlining' concept. In the original, the characters experience slight augmentation of their mental facilities, but the filmmakers do not dwell on it. Here, the filmmakers show how the experience does benefit them (Jamie gets smarter; Sophia gets the confidence to leave home). It gives the other characters a reason to try it. And once the cast have 'flatlined', the movie exploits the premise in ways which relate back to their characterisation. It gives the movie a bit of a kick when events start to go out of control.

Watching the original, my biggest issue was that the characters' sins, the punishments they had to endure, and the manner n which they were resolved, all felt underwhelming. No spoilers, but no one died in the 1990 movie, a factor which really undermined the experience - there were no real sense of stakes. In the new version, this aspect is amped up so that the movie actually manages to be scary. Going back to characterisation, each character's sin feels like an extension of their character, and so their eventual redemption (or lack there of) feels more earned. And unlike the original, there are real consequences for the cast - and not everyone makes out alive.

Even with these qualities, the movie is no masterpiece.

The direction was a little puzzling - maybe it was just the aspect ratio, but there were a couple of sequences where I felt like I was watching a TV pilot - it had a televisual aesthetic, but with a bit more money and style behind it. There were also some incredibly cheesy scare moments which relied too heavily on jump cuts and sound design. There were a few cool mis-drirects, but they were in the minority.

And while I enjoyed the concept of flatlining here more, I felt the movie was a little fuzzy around the rules of the sins and how they interact with reality. I did enjoy the fact that the movie does not stop for a massive exposition dump - the filmmakers focus on showing not telling, and it makes the movie less cheesy than it could have been. However there were a few set pieces where I felt the internal logic was a little inconsistent.

Vaguely relevant picture

When I was walking out of the movie, two questions were running through my mind: Did I actually like the movie, or did I like it more in relation to the original? If I saw this movie with no knowledge of the original, would I like it?

In comparison to the original, Flatliners '17 is a massive improvement. The performances are solid, the premise feels more fleshed out and there are a few decent scares. Unlike the dour original, the movie also has a sense of humour.

However, ultimately I don't know if this movie is good enough to stand on its own.  

It's a decent remake, but unless you know the original I think you could get more mileage out of re-watching one of the Final Destination movies.

Lady Macbeth 
A young woman, Catherine (Florence Pugh), is married to a wealthy man who imprisons her in his large house and spends no time with her. Eventually, Catherine acts out and falls for a rough groomsman (Cosmo Jarvis). Desiring more control over her destiny, she takes drastic measures to ensure her happiness.

It is a rare treat to go into a movie with no context. I cannot remember the last time I went into a movie with no idea what it was about. Before going further, if you are interested in watching this movie, don't bother with this review - just go watch it.

The title is something of a misnomer. Based on an 1865 Russian novel, Lady Macbeth of the Mtsensk District, it is a shorthand for the main character's murderous intentions. Adapted by playwright Alice Birch (Revolt. She said. Revolt again), the location has been moved to 19th century Victorian England, a suitably terrifying context for the novel's focus on nightmarish gender restrictions.

Directed by William Oldroyd (it is his debut), Lady Macbeth is a chilly affair. Costing about half a million pounds, the movie benefits from its limitations. The action is largely restricted to the house and immediate surrounds, which works for the sense of confinement that Catherine experiences. There are only a few characters in every scene - we get enough extras to get a sense of the scale of the estate, but it also works for the characters' sense of isolation.

The photography reinforces this isolation, framing characters in single shots, or cutting from long shots to tight close-ups. Scenes in the house are framed in repetitive patterns and formal composition, with few variations in shot choice or editing pattern. It often feels like the characters are caught in an endless loop of routine and ritual. Scenes are bracketed by exterior shots of fields and forests obscured by fog - in this place, even the elements are restrictive.

As far as the acting goes, Pugh is the standout. Her understated, venomous performance provides the pitch black heart to proceedings, as she moves from being a sympathetic victim, to sardonic rebel to cold-blooded murderer. As her lover, Cosmo Jarvis is also good - especially once he becomes a partner in one of her murders, and begins to unravel. As Catherine's traumatised maid Sarah, Naomi Ackie is given an extremely limited palette to work with, but wrings a lot of sympathy out of the role.

While it is to draw comparisons with gothic literature (ala Wuthering Heights), the genre this movie is most aligned with is film noir. While noir is associated with the forties, detectives and mysteries, like all genres, the definition of a noir is more elastic. While there are many different definitions, for me the genre boils down to a protagonist (or 'fall guy') who is trapped in a series of events that he (or she) cannot control. The defining aspect of the genre is that the noir protagonist rarely escapes their predicament (think back to Double Indemnity, In A Lonely Place or the more contemporary Chinatown).

In Lady Macbeth, Catherine is not just a femme fatale, but is a victim of circumstance. Her control over the situation is never absolute, and she never attains the freedom she desires - at the end she is trapped in an empty house with a baby on the way. Despite her schemes Catherine is ultimately a fall guy stuck in a situation she cannot control. She is a poor woman whose marriage is framed as a financial transaction. Trapped inside her husband's house, under the thumb of her puritanical father-in-law, and abandoned by her husband, she eventually cracks under the pressure. Once she kills, she does not discover freedom but more pressures that push her further away from her goals. At that level, Lady Macbeth is interesting. But what makes the movie genuinely incisive and troubling, is the way the movie frames gender inequalities through the lens of white privilege - in this case, Catherine's relationship with Sarah.

Framed in the background, or lower within scenes, Sarah is the genuine victim of the system. She is the reason why Catherine never faces any real retribution for her sins. It is not cleverness which saves Catherine but her status which shields her from punishment. When her schemes backfire on her, she uses the people below her on the social food chain as scapegoats - and none is worse off than Sarah, someone who is incapable of fighting back.

Enough rambling. Lady Macbeth is a bleak but incredibly engrossing picture, and one of the best films I have seen this year. Go check it out. 

JAMES BOND: The music

For me, the music is the most important element of the James Bond franchise. Even more so than any of the other trappings, the soundtrack - particularly the James Bond theme - is the element which ties the franchise together and gives the movies a depth and cool that - more often than not - they would otherwise lack.

Dr. No

Like the movie, Dr No's score is an embryonic version of what was to come. The centrepiece is the James Bond theme. Written by Monty Norman, based on a musical he had previously composed, the theme was arranged and performed by the John Barry Seven. Barry's arrangement elevated Norman's composition and landed him the job of scoring most of the films between 1963 and 1987. This theme remains a mainstay of the series and an aural signature for the character.

Most of Norman's score is missing from the soundtrack album, which is made up of source tracks Norman recorded with musicians in Jamaica. The most interesting track is 'The Island Speaks', an atmospheric piece which plays during Bond's journey to Dr. No's island.

The rest of the album is interesting as a curio. One track which re-appears in a couple of different versions, is 'Dr No's Fantasy'. Another, slower version is confusingly named 'The James Bond Theme' - it's interesting and kind of eccentric, but it's not quite strong enough to stand up on its own.

Hopefully, Norman's full score gets a re-release at some point in the future. As it stands, this album is only notable for the first appearance of the Bond theme and the song 'Jump Up'.

From Russia With Love

Monty Norman was replaced by John Barry for the sequel, and the series' musical signature was cemented. This score introduces the first of Barry's alternative Bond themes. Entitled '007', it is more staccato and orchestral - there are points where it sounds like a wireless set relaying information. More adventurous and romantic than the Bond theme, Barry would re-use it in four later Bond scores.

The rest of the score is fantastic. Atmospheric, tense and evocative of its various locales without tying itself down the same way Dr No does. It's a classic adventure score, filtered through Barry's jazz influences.

The title song is serviceable, but lacks a little punch. More successful are the instrumental versions of the theme which reoccur throughout the film (the version which plays over the opening credits is great, especially when it segues into the Bond theme halfway through).

Goldfinger

Packing as much style and swagger as the movie it accompanies, after fifty-something years there is something evergreen and exciting about John Barry's Goldfinger score. From 'Bond Back In Action' through 'Dawn Raid on Fort Knox', it is  a triumph. Even the incidental tracks, like 'Into Miami', are great. The song is solid gold, and Barry lays it through the score in a way that ties the whole thing together.

The one downside to Goldfinger, score and movie, is that future films and composers would try to use it as a template, to much diminished effect. 

Thunderball

The movie is a little middling; the same cannot be said for the score. It is not as propulsive as Goldfinger, but it is more atmospheric, and slower-paced, which makes it more enjoyable as a listening experience.

This is the first time in the series history where most of the score is built on the melody to a song that did not make the film. 'Mr Kiss Kiss Bang Bang' was recorded by Shirley Bassey and Dionne Warwick, but the producers felt the song should have the title of the movie. The result is a soundtrack which is about 15% influenced by Tom Jones' title song. His song is fine, but I think I like 'Mr Kiss Kiss Bang Bang' - it's too bad it never had a shot. The result is richer - I don't think 'Thunderball' is as interesting in instrumental form is 'Kiss Kiss...'

Barry develops a 'mystery' theme through tracks like 'Moving the Body' and 'Searching for Vulcan' which is very memorable (every time I go swimming, it starts playing in my head). It gets its most muscular workout in the build-up to the underwater battle ('Underwater Mayhem...').

A bit more stately than its predecessor, Thunderball is the aural equivalent of a day at the beach.

You Only Live Twice

A bit overshadowed by the scores either side of it, You Only Live Twice remains a really enjoyable Bond score. The song is not an all-timer, but it ranks just below the first division, and Barry makes good use of its melody in the rest of the score. Despite the movie's focus on spectacle, the score feels more geared toward romance than action. 'Mountains and Sunsets' is one of the best single tracks in the franchise, and had its main notes incorporated into the Robbie Williams' song 'Millennium'. The one off-note is the re-appearance of '007', feels awkward and out of style with the rest of the score. This version also feels a bit stiff and cold.

On Her Majesty's Secret Service

All of the previous scores in the franchise, no matter how good, were leading up to this.

Influenced by Barry's misgivings about new Bond George Lazenby, OHMSS is the most mature and tonally sophisticated soundtrack the franchise has ever produced. The main title theme is a glorious one-off. Like Dr No, which opens with the James Bond theme, Barry developed an instrumental theme that carried through the movie. Powered by a Moog synthesiser, bass guitar and horns, it is propulsive and exciting, but leavened with a melancholic edge. One has to wonder if - had Lazenby continued - Barry would have re-used 'OHMSS' as a secondary character theme ala '007'.

The other centrepiece is 'We Have All The Time In The World', sung by Louis Armstrong. A beautifully understated ballad, it is the only real love theme in the franchise's history. Barry weaves between 'OHMSS' and this song throughout the score, only occasionally pulling out the old standby.

The Bond theme is also affected by the movie's fatalism - Barry uses an electric piano in place of the usual guitar for the melody, which undercuts its swagger. It makes more sense when Barry segues into the familiar theme over the closing credits. It is almost like the series formula reasserting itself following the death of Mrs Bond.

Top to bottom the best score the series ever had - the title theme is one of Barry's most successful experiments, and, most significantly, the score feels so of a piece with itself that when the Bond theme pops in, it feels incongruous.

Diamonds Are Forever

A weird revision of his brassy Sixties style, Barry tips his hat toward contemporary trends (particularly funk), while retaining his focus on traditional orchestration. This is the point in the franchise where the quality of the film and the quality of the soundtrack  begin to diverge.

Built around one of the series' all-time greatest songs, Diamonds Are Forever is one of Barry's most location-inspired scores. Track to track, this score oozes with the cheap glitz and sleaze of Las Vegas. It's not as good as OHMSS, and a step down from his work in the Sixties, but it remains one of my personal favourites. The electric piano which popped up in OHMSS returns, but is less obvious - there is a strange beat where Barry uses it to briefly echo the previous score's version of the Bond theme (pay attention during the pre-credit sequence when Connery's face is shown).

Aside from the song, the highlights are Wint and Kidd's theme - off-kilter and creepy - and '007 and Counting', which is the one time where the score hits the feeling of Barry's earlier scores. The one bummer is 'Moon Buggy Chase', which is shrill and repetitive (it is almost like Barry hates the scene as much as the viewer).

A bit more throwaway, but still a lot of fun, Diamonds Are Forever is the runt of the Connery run.

Live and Let Die

George Martin was a genius, and in terms of replacements it is hard to argue against him. It helps to have that song, but Martin's soul and funk-inspired score is extremely addictive. 'Whisper Who Dares', 'Trespassers Will Be Eaten', 'Boat Chase' and 'Underground Lair' are worthy of Barry himself. The score is a bit dated, but the injection of funk works so well it almost does not matter. Built off a great song, Live and Let Die still has a solid case for being the best James Bond score not penned by John Barry.

The Man With The Golden Gun

John Barry returned for his seventh tilt at the wheel, and while it is solid, there is something underwhelming about the whole package.

It could be the song, which I don't hate, but as a foundation for a score it is not on the same level as the previous scores. There is something a bit irritating about having those opening notes repeated over and over again - they just don't stack up to a 'Goldfinger' or a 'You Only Live Twice'.

Contradictorily, the most fun track is the western saloon-style instrumental of the title song, which plays during the pre-title funhouse set piece. It's just as eccentric as Lulu's version - maybe that's why the more traditional orchestral variations fall flat, they lose some of the song's character.

The Spy Who Loved Me

This soundtrack is the first real dud of the series, which is depressing since it was composed by the late, great Marvin Hamlisch, and features one of the best songs ever made.

The main problem is that it is very inconsistent, and, for the CD release, there is not much of it - the best parts of the score are not on the album (where is the music from the car chase?). The first few notes of 'Bond 77' are great, but then it turns into a disco dance tune, and the rest of soundtrack follows suit. If this was played in a club I would dance to it, but in the movie it is a total misfire.

Moonraker

My god what a study in contrast in tone between film and music - John Barry returns to deliver the limpest score of his tenure. The song is flaccid, but overall his approach is all wrong for the OTT nonsense onscreen. It is ultimately too slow and stately, which kills any sense of excitement. A very strange approach, especially considering how the film feels like a live action cartoon.

It's not a complete wash. Barry's score for the space sequences is beautiful, as he augments the orchestra with a choir. Otherwise, it is like the theme song - completely forgettable.

For Your Eyes Only

At the dawn of the eighties, John Barry took another break, and Rocky composer Bill Conti took over. Like the previous Barry stand-ins, Conti went for a contemporary tone. Once again that tone was disco, which was basically dead by the time this movie was released.

This score is so odd - in its own way, it hits the emotional beats of each scene, but the disco style is such a clunky fit that the it just sounds like the score to a Magnum PI episode. The disco influence on the gun barrel music is so overt every time I watch the movie I expect Moore to moonwalk backwards into frame.

'Melina's Revenge' is a personal favourite - it is actually two tracks combined; the first half covering the death of Melina's parents, and the second half is the music from the pre-title sequence, which plays as Bond takes over control of the helicopter and gets rid of Blofeld. It is very seventies, but the way the music kicks in is just magic.

The title song is memorable, although it's not a particular favourite of mine. To Conti's credit, he makes good use of its melody throughout, which might explain why the disco aesthetic is not as smothering as it could have been.

Octopussy

Octopussy is a score (and a movie) that has slowly risen to become one of my favourites. As with Moonraker, Barry goes heavy on the strings for a more expansive, classical sound. For some reason, this score works for me in a way that Moonraker did not. 'Bond Look Alike' and 'Palace Fight' in particular are great fun, managing to be a little playful while also building a bit of tension. It feels like the score to a light caper, which is perfect for this, the Moore-iest of Moore Bond movies.

I have grown to tolerate the theme song, although that may have more to do with Matt Gourley's incessant praise of it on the James Bonding podcast. The big problem is that it does not feel big enough - it feels more like one of the franchise's secondary theme songs ('If There Was A Man' from The Living Daylights; 'If You Asked Me To' from Licence to Kill), rather than something to anchor the movie on.

A solid outing for Barry, Octopussy marked his brief return to being James Bond's fulltime musical accompaniment.

A View To A Kill

Once again John Barry saves a terrible film with a score it does not deserve.

This score is absolutely beautiful. I used to dislike Barry's eighties scores - I missed the brass and jazz textures, but I have come to really enjoy the emphasis he placed on strings. There is something rather melancholy and beautiful about his instrumental version of the title song, particularly the use of a flute solo to stand in for Simon LeBon.

The Living Daylights

The arrival of a new Bond also marked the end of an era, as John Barry's last stab winds up acting as a fitting finale to his tenure.

Aside from some dated synths, this ranks as one of his best scores. The song is okay, but that is due to Barry's contributions, which overcome the nonsensical lyrics. In addition, his re-orchestration of the song in the score is terrific.

Part of this score's strength may be because this is the only time in the franchise in which all of the film's musical themes are based on songs: aside from the title song, we get the Pretenders' track 'Where Has Everybody Gone', which is another first in that it is the only time a henchman gets an identifiable theme tune of his own. It's a cool song, although I feel like it could use a bigger female vocal - if franchise mainstay Shirley Bassey had sung it, it would probably be better known. Barry's orchestral versions of the song ('Necros Attacks'; 'Inflight Fight') are also dynamite.

Barry also bases the romantic theme on another Pretenders song, 'If There Was a Man', which plays over the end credits. The song is adult contemporary cheese, but the orchestral versions in the score are really good (the album includes an alternate instrumental which is far better).

I criticised the synths, but I have to say Barry uses them well, especially in 'Ice Chase'. They don't overwhelm the orchestra like they do in the late nineties films.

Overall a superb summation to John Barry's work on the franchise.

Licence to Kill

When John Barry was too sick to return, the producers enlisted Lethal Weapon and Die Hard composer Michael Kamen to give this darker movie a more contemporary edge. The results are, as usual, underwhelming.

The main problem is that it lacks a real signature of its own. The most obvious problem is that it does not incorporate the melody of the song into the score. It is not a deal-breaker, but there is no other theme in the score to give it some character of its own.

Kamen's version of the Bond theme is fine (the slow-build which plays as Bond rises out of the water behind the sea plane is great), but the rest of the score does not amount to much.

GoldenEye

Eric Serra was famous for his synth scores to Luc Besson movies like Le Femme Nikita and Leon, but he was out of his (fifth) element on this movie. The biggest misstep in the franchise, GoldenEye was such a miscalculation that it is the one time in which another composer was hired to re-do parts of the score.

'The GoldenEye Overture', which plays during the pre-credit sequence, is fine and works with the scene, but overall Serra's techno aesthetic is totally at odds with the movie's tone. It is a testament to the movie's other qualities that the score does not torpedo it.

The 'standout' examples of how badly Serra bungles the task are 'Ladies First' (which plays during his flirtatious chase with Xenia Onatopp) and his rejected music for the tank chase. Composer John Altman was brought on at the last minute to quickly come up with an orchestral score for the tank chase which made heavy use of the James Bond theme. Altman's contribution was left off the soundtrack album, but you can find a version of it floating around on Youtube.

Otherwise the score feels like a mash-up of bad elevator music and the soundtrack to a late eighties porno.

Tomorrow Never Dies

The arrival of David Arnold as composer led to a decade of musical stability for the Bond franchise.

Tomorrow Never Dies is one of his best soundtracks, even though it features the elements that would derail his later scores for the Brosnan era: a big dollop of Barry (strings, brass, and horns) with contemporary textures (in this case, drum'n'bass).

Unlike his later Brosnan-era scores which emphasise elements of techno, with Tomorrow Never Dies Arnold makes sure that they are subordinate to traditional brass and strings.

Barry-like touches are present throughout ('Hamburg Break-In' echoes Barry's "Bond Back In Action' from Goldfinger), and Arnold brings back the James Bond theme in an energetic arrangement that re-invigorates the old standby.

And while the Sheryl Crowe song is dire, Arnold's own Bassey-esque 'Surrender' (sung by kd lang) made it to the end credits. Like Thunderball, Arnold composed the score with the melody for this song as the backbone, but Crowe's song wound up getting the prime slot.

One of the best scores in the series, with Tomorrow Never Dies the Bond series got its mojo back.

The World Is Not Enough

More techno-influenced than Arnold's first score, and not nearly as fresh, The World Is Not Enough does earn points for being a little more tonally varied than its bold, brash predecessor. Arnold lends this score more pathos to match the more mature intentions of the film.

As a score this one actually ranks with Barry for doing a better job at hitting the tone than the film it accompanies. The action cues are fantastic, but the real highlight is 'Elektra's Theme', which features throughout the movie as a motif for the characters' effect on Bond and the narrative trajectory. 

I am lukewarm on the title song - objectively there is nothing wrong with it, but there is something lacking from it. Maybe it just fits the template too closely - it really has no defining character of its own.

More offbeat is 'No One Else To Blame', a moody ditty Arnold came up with to play over the end credits. Sung by Scott Walker, it hits the downbeat tone of the movie - clearly the producers agreed, since they had Arnold go back and replace it with an up-tempo version of the James Bond theme, to leave the viewers on a high note (the song is included on the soundtrack album).

Die Another Day

While not as bad as GoldenEye, this score represents the nadir of David Arnold's tenure. The movie is out of ideas, and, sadly, so was the composer. He struggles manfully to bring drama and excitement in 'Hovercraft Chase' and 'Anatonov', but his music lacks variation and nuance. Once again, he is hamstrung by a terrible title song,which was produced too late to be used in the score. Overall Die Another Day comes off as loud, hollow and tied to its time.

Casino Royale

Purposely depriving himself of the James Bond theme, which had become something of a crutch in his previous scores, Arnold rises to the occasion with tracks which accentuate the movie's tone and themes. His romantic theme for Vesper Lynd is lovely, and while 'You Know My Name' is a bit middling as a title song, Arnold's uses of its melody in the score are glorious (particularly on the heart-pumping 'African Rundown'). When the Bond theme finally makes its appearance, it feels earned. One of the best scores in the franchise.

Quantum of Solace

Not a bad effort (and better than the song) but Quantum of Solace is a bit of a dip in quality from Arnold's previous score. 

He continues the restraint of his work on Casino Royale, utilising the familiar theme for only a few minor moments and picking up 'Vesper' in a few places to ensure thematic continuity. However Arnold's largely at the mercy of the movie, which is the most relentlessly action-oriented in the franchise. He makes a lot out of the movie's quieter moments, injecting lashings of pathos ('I Never Left') and comedy ('Field Trip') in among the action cues.

On that front, Arnold is on great form: 'Time to Get Out' and 'Pursuit at Port Au Prince' are great. The real highlight may be 'Night at The Opera', which gets the pulse racing without leaning into the percussion or synthesisers.

Quantum would perhaps have been more memorable if the melody of the score was tied to the title song, but this is another Arnold joint where contemporary taste overruled musical unity. Arnold later used the melody of this score for the song 'No Good About Goodbye' for Shirley Bassey. Rumours persist that this song was rejected in favour of the White-Keys track. I have no idea what the truth is, but the song is so close to the melody line that runs through Quantum that it is hard to dismiss as a coincidence. 

Skyfall

With the arrival of Sam Mendes in the director's chair, Skyfall also marked the series debut of his favoured composer Thomas Newman. An Oscar winner with a solid pedigree, on paper Newman sounds like a great stand-in for David Arnold. But that is not the case.

While it is not terrible, Newman's score for Bond 23 is relatively anonymous. As always, the big problem is a lack of memorable melody - Adele's 'Skyfall' gets referenced in 'Komodo Dragon' and it is great, but it is missing from the rest of the movie. 'New Digs' has some nice agitated guitar and Newman reaches some Barry-esque romanticism with the evocative 'Severine' and 'Modigliani', but otherwise it sounds like Modern Blockbuster Score 101.

Even the Bond theme, when it reappears, feels a little uninspired - Arnold always gave it a bit of panache and originality, but Newman seems to be going for the original vintage, with no flavour of his own.

Spectre

Following his middling effort for Skyfall, Newman returns to deliver a score with even less character than his first. Like Skyfall, it is not without its good points: the opening track, 'Los Muertos Vivos Estan', features Tambuco on percussion. By itself it boasts more energy and swagger than anything else on the album. But once again, the score feels indebted to a contemporary aesthetic that is heavy on simple themes and motifs, but light on strong melody. It does not say much that the most memorable track on the album is the instrumental version of Sam Smith's insipid theme song.

Here's hoping whoever gets the gig for Daniel Craig's swansong can end his era on high note.

IN THEATRES: Kingsman - The Golden Circle

After the Kingsman organisation is destroyed, Eggsy (Taron Edgerton) and Merlin (Mark Strong) have to join forces with their US counterparts, Statesman, to take down a global drug baron (Julianne Moore) intent on taking her operation legit - even if that means sacrificing millions of her customers in the process.

Man, this movie really suffers from a bad case of sequel excess.

Everything you liked about the original (Colin Firth; gadgets; ultra violence; hip soundtrack) is back, but pushed to the most obnoxious level. If you found the original entertaining, you will be underwhelmed. If you thought the original was too mean and violent, this might not change your mind.

The freshness of the original is missing, and what new ideas it does have (Julianne Moore's villain; a sociopathic US President; Elton John) don't feel as developed or interesting. It does not help the movie's case that it is constantly referencing its predecessor, to the extent of including flashbacks to the original. Making it even worse, brief sightings of Samuel L. Jackson's Valentine and Sofia Boutella's awesome Gazelle only reinforce the movie's lack of interesting elements.

The movie's focus on re-treading old ground also reinforces the movie's lack of purpose. The original Kingsman had a pretty clear thesis ('What does it mean to be a gentleman?'), and was structured to show that being a gentleman has nothing to do with background or economic status. By contrast, The Golden Circle never really figures out what it wants to be about.

Aside from the main plot, there are so many subplots that it gets a bit lost in the fray:

• introducing the new organisation Statesman 
• re-introducing Colin Firth's Harry Hart 
• Eggsy's relationship with Princess Tilde from the first movie
• the US President (Bruce Greenwood) using the villain's planned genocide as a way to achieve his own goals
• Eggsy's uneasy partnership with Statesman agent Jack Daniels (Pedro Pascal)

There is an interesting sub-theme about the war on drugs, which links the film's various antagonists, but it never feels related to what our heroes are up to. I did enjoy Bruce Greenwood's moral crusader President. Coming from a movie released in 2017, with an actual religious fundamentalist a heartbeat away from the office, he is easily more terrifying than the film's villain.

I know this franchise is a take-off on James Bond, but it is sad that it did not take on a few more tropes from the series - ideas like a simple plot (Bond v bad guy; Bond kills bad guy; end), ignoring continuity (e.g. no flashbacks) and no world building (Spectre aside). This movie is so busy that it never really has room to breath and become fun. Instead it just feels like a victim of modern trends in franchise-building.

The big new addition, Statesman, comes off like a cheap joke. Well, it would if the movie did not spend so much time on it. The focus on developing the organisation from an archetype of Southern white masculinity is a little questionable, but also feels a bit tired. Kingsman felt more fleshed out in the last movie, but its American cousin feels like an after thought. It does not help that the key players (Channing Tatum, Jeff Bridges and Halle Berry) are barely in the movie, and do not contribute much to proceedings. (BTW, it does not say much for Kingsman or Statesman that they have no idea that the other group exists).

The focus on Pedro Pascal as Whiskey also feels unnecessary. He is not that interesting as a character, and he is sidelined as soon as Colin Firth returns to action.

Speaking of which, Colin Firth's return never really feels essential, despite the movie diverting a large part of its middle act to his rehabilitation (amnesia, baby!). It does not exactly undermine the significance of Harry's death in the original - but does not add anything to it, or his relationship with Eggsy (here's hoping the plot device that brings him back is dropped in the next movie).

CG is plentiful, and so is a lack of stakes. All of the set pieces are airless and fantastical. They are fun to watch, but never immersive (most exterior sequences scream green screen). There was plenty of cgi and speed-ramping in the last movie (two things which I did not particularly care for), but these elements felt necessary as an augmentation for what was already there (such as Gazelle's legs).

While the movie is overblown and overstuffed, it is still watchable. The returning cast are all on pretty good form. Taron Edgerton does not get much in the way of character development, but he tills what soil he is given. Firth and Strong are also good, although some of the avenues the script sends them down feel a bit arbitrary.

As far as the newcomers go, Julianne Moore is having a blast as the villain. Poppy is the secret puppet master behind all of the world's drug trade, and Moore gives her an air of surface charm which the filmmakers never really exploit. She gets a terrific entrance, but then the movie gets mired in other nonsense until the third act. I wish she had more screen time so we could get more out of her - we never see that cheery facade crack, and it would have been nice to get more depth out of her (we don't even get something as simple as Valentine's aversion to blood in the first movie). Her lair suffers from being an obvious set, but I like the idea of an exiled billionaire recreating the things she misses from home. The juxtaposition of fifties Americana (Poppy's diner and hair saloon look amazing) and jungle is great.

And Elton John's role is pretty fun - they actually find a way to make his role a bit more involved than you initially expect, and his scenes are some of the few points where the movie steps off the gas and just bathes in its own lunacy.

Overall, while it is never terrible, Kingsman: The Golden Circle is an overlong, uninspired sequel that never comes into its own.

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The Ballad of Dynamotion

This piece was written last year and has never been published.

When Lara Liew was growing up, she knew one thing: she was going to be a ballerina. The ballet shoes are gone, but Lara is still dancing -- although in a style and context her younger self would have never contemplated. 

Lara is the co-creator and choreographer behind Auckland dance company Dynamotion. Co-founded with her friend Tom Sainsbury, Dynamotion takes every cliche associated with professional dance companies and throws them out the window.

Lara Liew. Credit: Tim George

Instead of taking inspiration from classic literature, Dynamotion has created a series of musical comedies drawn from b-movies and Hollywood blockbusters. And where other dance companies pride technique, in Dynamotion, dance ability comes a distant second to enthusiasm.

While a few cast members have some dance training, most of Dynamotion’s cast have no professional experience beyond their work on previous Dynamotion shows for the last four years.

“Previous dance experience is certainly not a requirement when we are casting,” Lara says. 

The focus is on personality and performance ability. Instead of an audition process, the group stay vigilant for people with the “right amount of wackiness” and “big expressive faces”.

The key to Dynamotion is not dancing, but ‘dacting’. Lara explains the term this way: “That ability to express through the face as well as the body what the emotion is.”

While it started as a tongue in cheek term to describe their amalgamation of dance and acting, Lara and her collaborators take it very seriously. 

“The more shows I go to that are dance related, I go to Tom and say ‘That show needed more dacting!’”

This emphasis on the face is present in burlesque, but Liew feels it is undervalued in more traditional forms of dance.

Part of the inspiration for the show came from Lara’s background in burlesque dancing.

“I trained in classical ballet and what they call modern dance — similar to jazz I guess — and I did that for my whole childhood and through high school.”

At 15, Lara’s confidence had been shaken after she failed an important ballet exam three times. 

“Looking back I don’t even know why I was disappointed because I liked ballet but I like modern and street jazz much more.”

Despite her success with these disciplines, Lara was solely focused on ballet, and after she failed the exam for the third time, she thought her dancing career was over.

“I didn’t even really think that you could have a career in dance outside of being a ballerina, which is so ridiculous…”

Lara shifted focus to acting. While studying at Unitec, Lara’s fire was re-ignited when she saw people studying contemporary dance without learning ballet. After acting school, friends encouraged Lara to audition for a burlesque company. Lara began working regularly in burlesque and it was through burlesque that the seeds of Dynamotion were sown.

“I had sort of found most of my burlesque work was rooted in comedy,” Lara says. 

It was through burlesque that Lara met Thomas Sainsbury. A local playwright, Tom loved to dance and together, they started spitballing ideas.   

Tom Sainsbury. Credit: Tim George

The idea was based on making dance accessible and funny, with an underlying message that anyone can be able to dance. They talked about what kind of story would lend itself to being told through dance. Tom was going through a phase of watching b-grade horror movies from the Seventies, so they designed a story based in that style.

“We thought that b-grade, naff aesthetic would be something we could achieve with actors who were trying to dance,” Lara says.

Lara admits that the first show was not an easy experience, but unintentionally, it laid the template for all of Dynamotion’s future productions. 

Due to the small size of the cast, not only did Tom and Lara come up with the story and the choreography, they had to take the lead roles. 

Rehearsals took place in Tom’s tiny spare bedroom, a claustrophobic hotbox where the only window was stuck closed. Minor reprieve came from a crack in the glass. The carpet had been ripped away leaving bare floor decorated with old staples. And before they could get to work, they would have to move a heavy slate bed that folded into the wall.

“We just had to do tiny movements and we could barely move on the spot,” Tom Sainsbury says.

The show played three nights at the Maidment Theatre at the University of Auckland. Despite getting out of the spare bedroom and onto a real stage, the pair were never sure of how their pet project would turn out.

“We were backstage going ’we don’t know if this will work’ because we’d never really seen anything like it before,” Tom says.

Despite the inexperienced cast and poor attendance, the audience response encouraged Lara and Tom to continue. 

FACTBOX: Timeline

October 2012	Terror Island
May 2013	Terror Planet
February, 2014	Purple Rainbow
July-August, 2014	Terror Highway
August, 2016	Mia Blonde in ‘Ice Dagger’

In terms of production, every Dynamotion show takes four months. For Mia Blonde, they started working on it in May and it came out in August. Rehearsals were three nights a week for two months. Since the people work full-time, these rehearsals had to be organised in the evenings.

When they choreograph the numbers, Lara and Tom make sure that the more proficient dancers are given more technically difficult choreography.

“If I can do something and Tom can’t do something then we probably know that it’s in the ‘too hard’ basket,” Lara says.

Thanks to their fast turnaround, the Dynamotion company has become more adept and ambitious in the types of dance numbers they create. 

Lara says: “We are capable, as a cast, of harder choreography than we were four years ago.” 

Most of the shows did not use dialogue, so focus had to be paid to movement and song choice to convey the story. They make one long playlist to measure out the runtime.

As Lara says. “So if something goes wrong… there is no leeway.”

Following their first show, Dynamotion has produced a show almost every year, with each production targeting a specific movie genre: Terror Planet parodied Terminator 2; Purple Rainbow took aim at the zombie genre; and their latest offering, Mia Blonde in ‘Ice Dagger’ was  a gender-swapping homage of the James Bond franchise.   

“It’s such perfect Dynamotion fodder that it was a real natural fit,” Lara says.

Because the group’s (assumed) informality, people are eager to join the group. Lara claims their audience have occasionally acted as a standby talent pool. 

“Occasionally spots come up when someone can’t do a show and we go ‘Ah, you know who’s been on the waiting list for a long time?’ 

On person who has never missed a show is Roberto Nascimento. He is one of only two dactors (the other being Kate Simmonds) who have been involved with every Dynamotion show since the beginning. 

Roberto got involved through his friendship with Tom.

“We had just done a different play together and he goes ‘Oh, do you want to be in this show that we’re doing? It’s like a dance comedy thing and there’s no dialogue, we just dance.’ And I said ‘Yeah’.”

Despite having no idea what he was getting involved with, Roberto jumped in -- and he’s stuck around. Out of the 12 members of Dynamotion, he is the longest serving behind Lara and Tom.

“I was just lucky that they thought of me at the time,” Roberto says.

Roberto loves the lack of pressure that Dynamotion offers — it is just a chance to have fun and dance.

“It’s important to remember you’re out there to have fun and also if I make a mistake, I’m the only one who knows.”

Raewyn Whyte is the dance editor for Theatreview, New Zealand’s most popular theatre review website. Whyte has seen every Dynamotion show, and not just as a critic.

“I saw it at the Fringe and I thought ‘this is cool!’ These guys are having a go and they have some really clever ideas, and there’s a good formula,” Raewyn says.

Raewyn believes Dynamotion have carved out a unique place in Auckland’s theatre-dance scene where the emphasis is on sheer entertainment.

"Comedy conveyed primarily through movement is very hard to pull off, and dance comedy is even harder. Most performers lean heavily on some kind of text, or the lyrics of the music. Dynamotion do use those devices but they have also mastered the knack of embodying their wacky characters wordlessly, which makes them so very entertaining,” Raewyn says.

Roberto is extremely thankful for getting to be a part of such a unique group. 

“Hats off to Lara and Tom for carrying it through and making it happen, because it’s tough to make things happen in this country sometimes.”

Strangely, it is Dynamotion’s creator who has gained the most confidence from being a part of the dance troupe. 

Lara claims her failed dream to be a ballerina hampered her dancing career. Even though she worked as a burlesque dancer for several years, Lara always thought of it as “the other dancers and me”.

“It’s really only been in the last couple of years that I’ve had to challenge my perception of myself around dance and go ‘Wow, what a really narrow view to have of yourself as a failed ballerina’.”

Because of her childhood disappointment, Lara never saw herself as a real dancer. Working with Dynamotion has freed her from this mindset.

“I’m in a situation a lot of the time where I’m working with non-dancers and people who aren’t necessarily trained and I’m saying to them ‘Yes, you can be a performer. Yes, you can dance. Who cares if you’re too fat for ballet or too tall for ballet or too un-co-ordinated. Who cares if you’ve never done it before.’ And so part of it has been walking the walk, picking up what I sort of preach to other people.”