Late? Pah! Lateness is our new motto. August was a fairly busy month, so let’s get going, foregoing subtley for speed.

Miami Vice is atrocious. Michael Mann might have done some classic films (I even enjoyed Tom Cruise vehicle, “Collateral“), but this is far from it. In fact, this is about as far removed from his previous film as possible: acting is woeful on all fronts (including from Oscar winner Jamie Foxx), the grainy cam is just annoying, the action is… non-existent, and the dialogue is amongst the worst committed to celluloid. Honestly, you will pray for the deaths of either of the main characters just so they can’t talk to each other. Awful stuff.

On the comedy front, Nacho Libre mixes the writing of Napoleon Dynamite with the comedy front of Jack Black. Normally loud and Dynamic, Black struggles to make anything of this quiet, near dead pan style; laughs becoming rarer and never getting above a chuckle. That said, there is something appealing about the wrestling scenes; maybe it’s the outlandish silliness of it all, or the midgets, but they just seem to work. Not bad, but not great.

After some absolutely awful superhero films, Superman Returns is surprisingly reasonable. Taking off after Superman 2, and taking some great liberties with the canon, the plot brings the camp visual jokes back to Earth with more emotional content dealing, as it does, primarily with the return of a man to a world that both no longer needs him and is screaming out for him. The echoes between the life of Clark and his alter-ego may lack subtlety, but this is still good, solid storytelling.

The ultimate burlesque model turned minor star gets a biopic in the form of The Notorious Bettie Page. It deals with the subject matter in a very superficial manner, suggesting that she wandered into her starhood and didn’t realise what she was doing, even after it was explained. It never goes into any worthwhile depth, showing merely a series of events in her life rather than taking a standpoint, any standpoint, and rigorously exploring it. A disappointment purely for it’s lack of any real insight into the icon.

Just about everyone has seen it now, so I will keep it brief: Snakes On A Plane is unashamedly trashy, cheap, brainless nonsense. It doesn’t stand up to the slightest hint of scrutiny, but no-one cares. It’s amusing because it knows how bad it is. It won’t be winning any awards (despite the tongue in cheek claims of star, Samuel L. Jackson) but probably worth seeing once.

Finally, set in a world where we’re losing the so called war on drugs and paranoia is at a record high, A Scanner Darkly explores a world in which perception and reality are orthogonal. Our hero, under a secret guise in his role as an undercover drugs agent, is assigned to monitor himself and his own life. As his drug uses increases and his mind slips, he takes us through a bizarre world, rendered in the most beautiful rotoscoped animation. Performances are sterling throughout, with Robert Downie Jr doing exceptional work. Insightful, schizophrenic, and funny, a film worth seeing.

The obvious and clear winner is, of course, A Scanner Darkly.

A few weeks ago, my beloved Archos AV420 died, for no good reason. The screen looked fine, the hard drive didn’t make any funny sounds, it just stopped working. I’m so used to having it as an mp3 and video player, and as the hub of the tv/hi-fi set-up, that it was looking near unbearable not to have it; I’d need to get a new one.

Imagine my panic when I realised I had purchased it around 1 year before (the standard manufacturing warranty in the UK for electrical goods), and couldn’t remember whether it was just short of a year or not. A two day search through my flat and my parent’s house finally turned up the all important receipt: it had failed 5 days before the warranty was up. Phew!

The next part, I imagined, would be difficult: getting Curries Digital in Glasgow to accept a receipt from Dixons Tax Free in Heathrow (a now semi-defunct part of the same chain), for a not uncostly electrical device that just happened to die under the years warranty. Nothing could be further from the truth.

A brief wait for customer services, a quick explanation of the situation, and cursory glance at the device and I was told immediately that they’d buy it back off me for the original price. I could, if I wished, go for a different model and pay or receive the difference, or get a full refund if none were to my satisfaction; barely a question asked. That’s the kind of sensible, straight-forward service we should be getting everywhere.

I had been thinking about replacing the 20Gb hard disk anyway, so I opted to pay a small difference to upgrade to the newer Archos AV560: a better looking device, with triple the hard disk space. Of note is the larger, slightly wider screen, a vastly improved operating system, better accessories (the mini-cam add-on looks interesting), the inclusion of a USB host port (so you don’t need a computer to transfer between it and other USB devices), and a slightly better battery. Absolute bargain.

The downsides of this model are an ill-fitting leather case (stretched at the seams), a poorer TV hub (the device doesn’t dock, as before), and a few questionable UI widgets (primarily the playlist control which was never very good).

All in all, I’m very happy with both Curries handling of this, the additional warranty and the device itself.

The scene: a busy, but incredibly efficient burger establishment in one of Britain’s biggest theme parks. The restaurant is noisy and crowded, full of large groups from all over the world. It’s a hot day, and mistakes are made. A handsome rogue of a man called, say, Gary, approaches the crowded counter, burger in hand. A gap appears next to the manager into which our hero slides, just making it in before a crowd of German tourists encroach. The manager is a slight woman, looking a little frazzled by the non-stop churn of customers, but earnestly focussed on making things run smoothly.

Gary

Hello, I’ve got a problem: my cheeseburger doesn’t have any cheese.

Manager

No, cheeseburgers do have cheese.

Pause. Close-up as our protagonist’s winning smile melts into a dazed confusion. Several seconds pass before he manages to pull himself together following this surprising retort.

Gary

Yes, but this one does not.

Manager

No, it will have.

Another, shorter, pause. The conversation plays out again in the now slightly rattled young man’s head. Maybe he imagined that this cheeseburger does not have cheese. It’s certainly in a cheeseburger wrapper, and a cheeseburger is exactly what was ordered. No, no self doubt. Why would he have gotten out of his chair and gotten through the bustle if there had not been an error? It made no sense. No, be a little more forceful.

Gary

I understand that cheeseburgers generally have cheese, but I assure you that this is cheeseburger is lacking that particular ingredient.

Manager

It’s a cheeseburger, it has cheese.

Gary

I honestly think that you should open the wrapper up and see for yourself on this one.

The manager, becoming less distracted elsewhere and more prominently aware of the clear nuisance in front of her, stops and examines the package. It is clearly marked as a cheeseburger. She opens it, one exaggerated movement after another to unwrap, and examines the questionable meat product. A cooling wave of surprise washes over her on this hot day, before her feet storm her across to the burger rack where she picks up another cheeseburger. Back across at the counter, she slams it down, never raising her head to show the shame of defeat, before walking off, not a word spoken.

You can’t make this shit up.

A relatively quiet month for me, due to a mixture of illness (briefly hospitalised), being away from home, and my computer destroying itself on a daily basis (more of which at a later date). Cinema was also pretty quiet, with no-one going up against the summer blockbusters.

First up is the already month or two old Fast And The Furious: Tokyo Drift, selected simply because it was starting just after we arrived. From the previous films you know what to expect: some vaguely criminal activity, a wreckless hero with a good heart, a girl causing a feud and, of course, cars rammed with random bits of plastic and awful paint jobs. This film, due to it’s sequel in name-only status (forgetting that cameo), does all of the above worse than ever before; the weak story and dire performances aren’t balanced by some eye candy, the dialogue wandering out of the big book of cliches. Bad.

One of three Luc Besson related films out in the last month is the free-running madness of District B13. Set in a near-future Paris where entire suburbs have been cut off and left to fend for themselves, our hero is trying to live an honest and clean life to which the local kingpin doesn’t take kindly. Events conspire and get a little ridiculous, leading the two lead characters into a buddy action film. All of that aside, the film is really an excuse for Besson and co to show off the free-running skills of David Belle. Leaping seemingly impossible gaps, acrobatics and wall climbing skills abound, and choreography as beautiful as anything from the East with the impact of anything from the West. Fantastic, just to watch.

Finally, the blockbuster of the summer was always going to be the return of Johnny Depp as Captain Jack Sparrow. Pirates Of The Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest is fun but contrived, bustling but overlong, a film the spirals through a bunch of plots for the sake of giving everyone plenty of screen time, rather than to create a tightly edited film. Half a dozen of the featured characters could easily be excised with no hit to the over-arching plot, and no harm done to the franchise. Despite the wayward scriptwriting, I rather enjoyed the film: it was fun and goofy and a little magical, the areas in which Disney excels. That the series is being stretched beyond the current material is the only concern here.

The clear winner of the three is the visual spectacle of District B13. Pirate’s might be epic, but District will be the film to make your jaw drop.

Podcasts. At first, I thought the idea was a bit terrible: amateurish radio full of self important types who wanted to hear their own voices. Listening to someone read their blog? No thanks.

Then, of course, came the Ricky Gervais podcast. It was suggested, by various people, that I give it a go so I did, and I’ve never looked back. Half an hour of bizarre rants by the incomparable Karl Pilkington, coralled by Gervais and writing partner Stephen Merchant. For the journey to and from work (back when I had such a thing), it was care-free easy entertainment in half an hour.

Despite reading 250-odd sites via their feeds, I can count on one hand the number of podcasts that I listen to. Why? They’re almost always far too long. Unless you are a top comedian or niche commentator, chances are you don’t have the talent to make it worth most people’s while to listen for half an hour. That’s a long time to give up in one solid block. It’s not even that your material doesn’t warrant a listen, it’s just that it requires a great deal of effort to sit down once a week or so for that length of time. There are a few podcasters that I would like to listen to, Dustin Diaz being a prime example, but it feels too much like adding a signficant burden to the already considerable pile of stuff to do, the masses of other media already taking up my time.

The solution? Make shorter podcasts! I, and I’m sure many others, would be more receptive to six 5 minute podcasts a week than one half hour effort. It’s only five minutes that needs to be squeezed in — heck, you can do that while checking your email at work in the morning.

And you know what? It’ll be good for some of you (not pointing any fingers) to show some editorial skills and restraint. Sure, the banter is important, but it often threatens to overtake important messages. Bite-sized is best.