SCREEN SHOT - Sinners

 

I've held off reviewing this film because I didn't quite know how to approach describing it, nor whether I could do justice to portraying its themes, and the effect that it has. It is undoubtedly to my mind a brilliantly executed film. Ryan Coogler knows what he's trying to achieve and sticks to his aesthetic guns over the whole approach to storytelling. Some might find it a bit too self consciously unrelenting in its stylisation, which I can understand. It is a bizarrely over the top baroque film about the blues, and how this is intrinsically intertwined with, and hence, representative of the black experience in the US. How that consciousness used its blues music to break out of the confines of slavery, segregation and the whole bible belt thumping evangelism of blues music being a sinful work of the devil. Blues becomes a liberative force for good or ill.

Young Sammy Moore (Miles Caton) returns to his home and to his preacher Father, with only the broken fret of his guitar in his hand, deep scars etched across the left of his face. He's been out playing the blues last night and something happened that has devilishly mortified his soul. And the film then tells you the story of how that night came about. Stack and Smoke ( both Micheal C Jordan ) are twin brothers who return to their homeland after a period in Chicago. They have pockets full, with a good deal of cash to splash, but everyone who knows them understands this wealth was not acquired by healthy legitimate means. They purchase a huge barn with the intention of creating a dance club, a juke for black folks to congregate, drink, eat and socialise in.

The first half of the movie is taken up with the brothers gathering up friends and old girlfriends to run the juke. The ex girlfriend Mary ( Haliee Steinfield ) of mix race, The girlfriend and voodoo practitioner Annie (Wunmi Musaku ). Delta Slim ( Delroy Lindo ) the old timer blues pianist. Cornbread ( Omar Benson Miller ) a man desperate to break away from his life as a sharecropper. And throughout all this process of assembling the team, blues music rumbles on in the background in almost every scene. This propels the movie onwards to the opening night. When the brothers realise this is never going to make them money, because too many folks can only pay with their plantation tokens, not real redeemable money. But let them have their fun for this one night.

The central scene of the entire movie pivots around Sammy's debut performance, singing a song I Lied To You, by way of an apology to his Father for pursuing the life of a blues musician. It's spine tinglingly good. The performance unleashes the whole of black ancestry, the spirits from all cultures from the past and the future come to manifest themselves in this one juke,summoned by the power of Sammy's Blues. Its a visual and musical tour de force that takes your breath away. But it also brings forth malevolent forces in the form of Remmick ( Jack O'Conner ) and his gang of vampiric followers. And literally all hell breaks loose to save Sammy's soul from capture by the Devil.

So, not a small scale independent movie, but a whopping great beast of a tale, superbly rendered and sung with a bellowing voice from a fast beating heart. This simply wipes the floor with a lot of this years film releases. 

CARROT REVIEW - 8/8

CHURCH LARKING - Old Malton Priory Church

 

One look at its pristine white stoned exterior tells you that this is no ordinary Parish Church. St Mary's refers to itself as a Priory Church, which is a residual nod to its medieval monastic origins. For this was once part of a Gilbertine monastery.  

The Gilbertine's were a Christian monastic institution entirely English in its origins. St Gilbert of Sempringham, once a lowly parish priest, founded it in 1130. The Gilbertines went on to build twenty six monasteries over its four centuries of existence, These were mostly in Lincolnshire, with a smattering across East Anglia and the south and west of England. They were unusual in being frequently double foundations, where both canon monks and nuns were cloistered side by side in a bifurcated monastery. Each keeping a discrete separation. Their churches had a dividing wall built down the middle, so they could worship together, whilst neither side could see the other. And if that sounds weird and messed up to you, well, that's because it truly was.

Double monastic foundations were not unusual in the early eras of Celtic Christianity. Whitby Abbey founded by St Hilda ( 657 - 680 AD ) was during her period as Abbess a double foundation. Five hundred years later, the Gilbertines became widely admired and renowned for both their austerity and the strict discipline of their adherence to the monastic Rule. Nevertheless, at the Dissolution, their institutions faced accusations of lax discipline, rumours of sexual fraternisation, and eloping monks and nuns. Whether any of this held any grain of truth, or was merely a convenient opportunistic slander, is difficult to ascertain at this distance..

Rough outline of Malton Priory

All Gilbertine foundations were dedicated to St Mary. The Priory was built after St Gilberts death, in 1150, when foundations for Canon monks alone were becoming increasingly common  Old Malton Priory was built specifically as a men's training seminary, and a place of respite and recuperation. Most of its standard arrangement of monastic buildings are now totally gone or only exists buried beneath grass at a foundation level. A crypt that once lay beneath the kitchen, still survives in Abbey House next door to the church. The Dissolution reached Old Malton priory in 1539. What we now see still standing, is the sole surviving building of the entire Gilbertine Order in England. It's that rare.

What we find at St Mary's Priory Church, is a severely amputated section of the original Priory's nave. The frontage has lost its twin west tower, both side aisles of the nave have been removed, the arches filled up, the upper clerestory chopped completely off, and the full length of its originally vast nave reduced by two bays. What was once a splendid piece of lofty Perpendicular window tracery and stained glass decorating the Churches frontage, is chopped in half by the low flat roof, its upper mullions blocked up. I mean badly bodged doesn't quite cover what was done here. It's an abhorrent mutilation of its body. That said, when one examines closely the front entrance you can very easily imagine what an impressive statement its exterior originally made. Executed in late Norman Romanesque, with Early English stylistic flourishes, it still possesses an element of light, yet austere elegance. 

As you enter into its interior through its wide arched wooden doorway, and then close that door behind you, you are immediately plunged into the full darkness of the porch. Acting as some sort of transition from the lightness without into the semi-darkness within. For when you step out of the porch into the body of the church, you are immediately struck by what a gloomy atmosphere it exudes. And this is with several insertions of later Victorian windows to allow light in. The medieval light levels in this church must have been terribly low, when only lit by candle light and its single window only at half power even in strong summer daylight. No use at all in a winter evensong.

Judging from the exterior there was once a three light pointed arch window behind the altar, which is now blocked up and concealed behind its gilded canopied reredos. The overall feel of this church's interior is not in any way shape or form an elevating one. Resembling a dingy oppressive cave with little natural light penetrating. It's stiflingly sombre ambience, is one I found not at all uplifting nor happy to stay with for very long. Setting off your nervous imagination, as though some very unpleasant dark resonances are harboured within its damaged walls. Still incensed by what has been perpetrated upon its hallowed ground. This is the sort of architectural travesty that makes you angry at the rank hypocrisy of the English Reformation, and all that it stood so little for.

MY MOST LOVED ALBUMS - Indiscreet by Sparks - 1975

Already a few years into their English renaissance, Indiscreet was Sparks third album in as many years.Still riding high on their first gallop of fame, they took this interestingly oblique left turn. A turn which presages pretty much everything they do subsequently. A form of creative pursuit of new musical terrain, that has become the guiding myth to their entire subsequent career. Indiscreet is the logistical first fully fledged blueprint for it. In which a wide and eclectic variety of styles and approaches to music making, will all exist within the one album. It was the first occasion when Sparks would draw near to self-sabotaging their fame, just by being too damned inventive and original for the conventions of the music business. That simply wanted them to produce more product, exactly like the last one, thank you.

One of the themes explored on this album is reflected in its title - Indiscreet. There is often a flavour of ideas, experiences and subjects being talked about here, that really are not normally aired via a pop song.  In Hospitality On Parade, its that serving other people you don't know, is a very public pretense, with a facade of hospitality that conceals a whole buried cache of resentments and vengeance. 

In, Without Using Hands, we have a song about the vacuous nature of international tourism that has a tragic denouement of a fatal explosion in the Ritz Hotel where 'the manager is going to live his entire life, without using hands'. Yeah, that one gets very dark, very suddenly. 

Under The Table With Her, is a song written like its a quartet chamber piece, about two children under a table at a posh banquet pretending to be dogs in order to be given scraps of food.

But other songs slowly build up to being edgy, like one of my top favorite Ron Mael songs - Tits. Two pals are sitting in a bar drinking. One guy is talking about how he cannot be intimate with his wife, since the birth of his child, because 'Tits are only there so they'll help our little Joe so that he'll grow. But as the song progresses, the two guys get ever more drunk, and the married guy starts to become paranoid about his wife's phone calls, and her fidelity, perhaps someone else is having an affair with her. Until in the next verse he accuses his bar friend of being the adulterous lover. The lyrics are conversational, and jump around subject matters and focus, as real conversations tend to do. Its a masterful piece of songwriting.

It Ain't 1918, is about a couple who refuse to embrace modern technology, and the social pressures on them to conform. 

The Lady Is Lingering, is a lovely song about a man who can't believe why a woman is hanging about near him. Is she or is she not interested in him? It captures the male perspective on whether he's reading or misreading the signals correctly. Whilst for the woman she's increasingly aware that 'its a risky business all this waiting and wandering'. Add in the hit songs Looks Looks Looks and Get In The Swing, and you have a hugely diverse range and styles of song here. Indiscreet is simply jam packed with musical and lyrical inventiveness and wit.  Its an entertaining and somewhat timeless album, that's still utterly fabulous. 

RANDOM SNIPPETS - No 2 - The Legacy Artwork

'This project I've launched myself upon, as most of my projects appear to do, has become larger and more unwieldy ( in my mind at least ) as the weeks go by. I do wonder why my creative projects always seem to develop in this way. They become a bit more than messages from my ego. This tendency towards the baroque and grandiose, could this be a symptom of frustrated creativity over reaching? Is this legacy making? That I'm not going to be leaving a legacy to the world via having children, so let's leave this absolutely gargantuan piece of artwork, too big to fit in most folks homes. And even though I will have undoubtedly put a lot of myself into it, this will probably be the first thing to be broken up and thrown on the bonfire, after I'm dead.'

An edited and further adapted extract from my Morning Journal
Originally written 19th June 2025

THE PAST IN RUINS - Helmsley Castle

 

The majority of castles in England have there origins in securing the territory after the Norman Conquest. As William the Conqueror began to methodically take control of  England. As ever with William his response to defiance was not subtle or proportionate, he mercilessly Harried The North. Literally burning and laying to waste areas that were rebelling against his fiefdom. Destroying villages, poisoning the earth so they couldn't immediately return and grow crops. The economic and cultural repercussions of this rippled on for decades, if not centuries.

Helmsley was gifted to William's half brother Robert, but there is little evidence of him building a castle. Robert and Robert's son, and his son in turn, all rebelled against the monarch of the time. After the third incident the family had the control of the Helmsley estate taken away from them. It was given to Walter Espec around 1122 and he invested huge amounts of time, money and patronage into the area. And with Walter the first castle with its wooden battlements and bailey is created. And during his lifetime he began constructing the stone version, which you see now. 

Helmsley Castle is quite favourably placed. It's on the route north to Durham and the Scottish Borders and the route west to York, the route east to Whitby. There were regular and sometimes quite serious pillaging raids of Scots this far south, so the castle did have a role as a focus for repelling and deterring them. But there was always an element of it providing merely the outward appearance of strength. A Norman Castle, in its prime, was also there to intimidate the local population too. A lot of what Helmsley Castle is, is just exterior show, to display superior status as much as military power.

If Helmsley Castle was ever really tested out as a medieval military stronghold is unclear. But, formidable as its moat and ramparts may look, it had weak points that further developments across them attempted to compensate for. Investigations of the moat indicate some of it had been clay lined, but this was limited and not across the whole of the moat. This makes it look like an early experiment that failed in making it watertight. The full depth of the moat was hence unable to hold water. That said the height, depth and sequence of the ramparts and battlements, built by the De Ros family who succeeded Espec, would in medieval times have made it no push over to capture. 

The De Ros family fell fowl of being on the wrong side in the War of the Roses. So the castle and its estates were bought by the Manners family. One of whom subsequently married the infamous toy boy lover of James 1, and rake on the make, Charles Villiers, Ist Duke of Buckingham. It was not until the Civil War with the increased strength of firepower from cannons and guns, that taking a castle such as at Helmsley became possible. It fell to a siege by Fairfax's New Model Army, surrendering in November 1644.  The Parliamentarian's made the castle inoperable as a defensive structure. The 2nd Duke of Buckingham, equally as much of a scoundrel as his father, fled the country until the Restoration returned to him his estates. But from then on the castle ruins were increasingly used as aesthetic adornments to a picturesque landscaped view. Particularly once Duncome Park was created in the 18th and 19th centuries.

The final change for Helmsley Castle came in 1932 when it was taken into state ownership. And slowly the ruins were excavated from centuries of neglect, the build up of metres of soil, rubble and refuse were removed to reveal the full foundational outline of what you see today.

HOLIDAY SNAPS - Coming Down

The end of anything, contains an element of coming down from a relaxed enjoyable state of being away. Engaging with somewhere that is new, or at least not the colours and aromas of your usual surroundings. Early in the morning before dawn has even begun waking up the sky, this is all still only a theoretical proposition. This leaving point has not yet arrived, and you are lying in bed imagining reaching that point, and its a slightly daunting prospect. 

And the journey home? Well, that is being slowly factored in as this unpleasant necessity. The pulling yourself away from a place and situation you have grown emotional ties with, a fondness occasionally bordering on an unrequited love for. All of this adds to the longing for the future direction of life to be of a different cast, to what you are going back to. Making the coming down not always an enjoyable process, more a tearing yourself away from this fresh romanticised obsession. 

In our case, we are literally coming down the country, in the general direction of Norfolk. The route we sketched out very roughly last night. A leisurely and well paced speed of travel. Breaking up the five hours of car travel into three to four bite sized chunks. With regular stop overs to stretch legs and rejuvenate the tired forever travelling mindset. Oh, and also, to eat! 

Our first planned stop was Beverley. a town I've not been back to since my teenage years. And it turns out to be far far better than my memory of it. We had breakfast in Carluccio's for goodness sake!. I had what was the finest Eggs Florentine of the entire holiday. Wandering around the town, its very well served. We even found our first half decent yarn shop. Yorkshire having turned itself into a bit of a yarn desert. Beverley, like many places has become Doggy obsessed. With not one but two Dog themed businesses, each one a great play on words, one called Oh My Dog, the other Everything But The Dog.  

And so it was soon onwards to our next stop over in Sleaford. For years of travelling north we have passed the sign for The National Centre for Arts & Crafts and said we should take a look. This time, we took a look. The building is a huge four story building, of which they only use two floors, and only one as a full exhibition space. Whoever is the Artistic Director is not doing a good job. Only one exhibition room of rugs, vaguely connected to Winifred Nicholson, which was OK ish. 

Two smaller exhibitions, one stuffed in a corner of the Shop, another spread down the window sills of a stairwell. The Stairwell exhibition of three dimensional design work was actually quite good, but easily overlooked. Imagine these as maquettes for really huge room filling constructions. The centre appears to be focused primarily on increasing local engagement with lots of making and dance workshops for kids and adults. Rather than National, it all had a bit of a provincial art centre vibe, and lacked large craft statement ambition. Underwhelmed I was. A big big disappointment, with one truly horrendous car park!

Our final stop was in the Hardwick Retail Park in Kings Lynn. Not for any other reason than we both needed to get out of the car. Hubby had been driving by then for four hours, with another hour ahead. So we idly wandered into The Range, which had already gone full on floors and floors of Christmas. We ended up buying this years Christmas Crackers. Whatever colour theme we decide on for our Christmas is invariably set by the crackers. So this year its Burgundy & Emerald flocking with gold foil. The flocking was a bit of a surprise, but we are prepared to go with tacky vulgarity. Oh, the Holiday is now well and truly over.

 

HOLIDAY SNAPS - Winding Up A Holiday

Today was our last full day in North Yorkshire. After yesterday's mega wander around York, we planned to stay more local. So what to do with our day? Turns out, its to buy or eat food and return to places we've been too previously - to partake again in the already familiar. Starting off in Malton for breakfast at The Pantry. Then take another look around, a final bit of shopping. A couple of places haven't been open when we've visited earlier in the week. And guess what? They weren't there today either. So, after a re-visit to Roost to purchase more of their deeply lucious locally roasted coffee, we moved onwards to Helmsley, for the third and final time, just a tiny bit sooner than we'd expected. 

Coffee and cake in Mannion & Co. Cheese and olives from Hunter's of Helmsley. Cheese Straws, Parkin, and a Yorkshire Curd Tart from Thomas The Bakers. Yeah, I know, its more food for our far from sated stomachs, apparently. Plus, another visit to Saltbox Gallery, for a final recky to see what delightfully thing might pique our interest and beautifully augment our small, but choice, ceramic art object collection. We bought two small vases, by a potter Danielle Pilling, based in County Durham. They look like they'll 'form a conversation' as they say in arty circles, so I hear.

We'd not been to Rievaulx Abbey this visit, so today we put that to rights, and finished with having a light lunch there. Over the years I've taken lots of photos at this atmospheric ruin. Today was a bright sunny day, so I tried to find closer architectural details to focus on, views through windows and contrasting levels in the ruins.

Then circling back to Old Malton Parish Church, which we've been frequently driving past, seemingly for years. We finally pulled in and went to see it up close. Post the Dissolution this was cobbled together into a Parish Church, out of the nave of a Gilbertine Monastery. Literally by slicing off the upper clerestory and the side aisles and blocking up the arches. And, similar to Binham Priory, you can tell as soon as you enter by the sort of architecture it contains, that this was never built to serve a local parish. It has an inappropriate level of immensity.  

The Gilbertines were the only entirely English monastic foundation, founded by St Gilbert of Sempringham in 1130. At their height there were around 26 priorys and abbeys in England. They were quite unusual, even in there day, in that they were quite often combined double foundations for both monks and nuns. Old Malton Parish church is a very lofty, oddly truncated sacred space, with a darkly sombre mood to it. If this were weather it would be called overcast. 

When I get back I'll write further about this in a Church Larking post. But first there comes tomorrow's return journey.

HOLIDAY SNAPS - Less Quality And Considerably More Crap

Just under half an hours journey by car from our holiday let, we spent almost the entire day in York. It is a likeable city, packed with historic buildings. Like Norwich it has medieval churches on almost every corner. These days often repurposed as cafes, galleries or antique emporiums. The last time we were here was just post Covid, and it had suffered a lot of retail losses. Many of the national chains had gone for good, or left the city centre for out of town shopping at the outer ring of Park and Ride sites. 

Medieval cities, and York is a classic example, are a warren of tightly packed streets. Its shopping area is vast and complex. Its not particularly zoned either, so you have to do a lot of wandering about to really get a flavour for what is here. This is exhausting. We appear to come to York in late September, and there is always a Food Festival on. Lots of street vendors and artizan makers under canvas. We thought this year it was considerably less artizan and generally poorer quality makers, veering more towards the novelty and junk food end than previously. And this turned out to be our more general impression for how York was fairing. Less quality and considerably more crap touristy orientated. I guess that's where the bucks are.

Hubby had heard about a shop in York called This Shop Is So Gay, so we sought it out. It gave off a slightly alternative hippy vibe externally. The stock was mainly novelty gay themed stuff - badges, necklaces, bags and posters, lots of the same imagery spread out over tables across quite a large interior. This shop, either needs to move to a smaller shop, or buy a more diverse range of stock, or it will be dead within a very short time. 

Whilst buying a gorgeous rye bread in the alternative vibe of The Bluebird Bakery, I noticed a poster on its walls advertising an event - Frieda Nipples Presents ...... Baps and Buns. Oh, that reminds me, something I forgot to mention - Yorkshire is full of shops with names that are puns - the best in Whitby was a takeaway called Bits n Pizzas.  There's a shoe shop called Brogues Gallery in Pickering

Eating wise we had a lovely vegan breakfast at Bills. Followed by a coffee and cake in an independent cafe called The Arras. I had a rather quality Cinnamon Bun, whilst I watched Hubby eat an absolutely enormous Cruffin, that looked as though it had been baked in a flower pot. Lunch was in the really rather Fab - Ippuku Tea House, serving quietly authentic Japanese homestyle cuisine. I highly recommend if you are ever in York.  

The York Art Gallery is always worth a revisit, if only for its extremely good contemporary ceramics collection. It also has excellent feature exhibitions. Two new ones for the autumn/winter season had opened this week, which are really worth seeing. One has entrants for The Aesthetica Art Prize 2025, featuring a wide ranging mix of styles and media work from contemporary artists. Alongside it an exhibition called Future Tense featured previous winners of the Art Prize. The best piece was Submergence an interactive sensory light piece by an art collective called Squidsoup. We both of us spent ages here, it was quite meditative and therapeutic. Lots of shivers of in the moment bliss.

We got home pretty whacked and more than a bit frazzled around the edges. The intensely hectic, sensory stimulating and closely packed peopled character of it. I guess we are just not used to this these days.