ロン丼牛ドン / London Gyudon 0: Tokyo Edition

A little bit of a cheat in that this is about Gyudon that is not in London but the zero tag feels appropriate - this being more like a prequel but made afterwards. This may involve a little retconning but I will try not to. I visited Japan at the tail end of 2019 (after a particularly disappointing set of electoral results) for a fairly short time. It was a simple trip for me and allowed me to wallow in a bit of nostalgia by visiting Shinjuku, Akihabara and other places in Tokyo while also having a trip to less familiar places using the exceptionally good JR EAST and South Hokkaido rail pass. It was a great opportunity to eat some very nice food around the country^[1] of which gyudon was definitely one to go for.
The important thing about gyudon in these conditions is that it is pretty much everywhere and so I did not actively search them out - I happened to come across these visits. In fact, these were not the only times to Yoshinoya (also had breakfast one) or Matsuya (Hamburg steak, kalbi beef etc) but they were the only times I had gyudon.
In my time, there were two apparent behemoths of the gyudon scene: Yoshinoya and Matsuya so those were the ones I wanted to go to. Actually, Sukiya is a huge chain but I am not sure that I ever went there.


Yoshinoya
I was staying in a hotel nearby and decided to pop out to the Yoshinoya that was nearby as a quick and convenient meal. As I entered, I looked around and was asked to sit down - which I did at the bar. I was struck by the fact that the person asking me to do this from behind the counter was not (ethnically) Japanese although she did interact with me fully in Japanese. I was given a menu to peruse and I decided on a Gyudon set which had many options. Yoshinoya seems to have loads of variations - a little like how Burger King advertise the “your way” burgers. I went for a set that was a standard size bowl along with a lettuce salad, clam soup and a raw egg.

I waited and the food arrived not long after and the first thing that I noticed was that the salad dressing came in a packet rather than given bottles to add. I wonder if this is to make the delivery and take away portions of their business even simpler but I do not remember this from before. It was a little disappointing in all honesty and did result in the salad being very plain. “Plain” is an apt word and I found the beef to be a little flat tasting. This was clearly a cheap beef, I do not question that (or mind) but it did not have much flavour. I probably had not had a “Yoshigyu” for a decade or more but it was a fairly quick reminder of why I did not like it so much. I added the whisked raw egg on top and sprinkled quite a bit of ginger on top in order to give it a little spikiness but it was not a meal that could be properly rescued. The pickled ginger was tasty and added some verve to it but I was left unsatisfied. The soup, which was not a standard side was fairly good - I did enjoy it and the mussels were of a decent enough level - though nothing special of course.
You will have noticed that I did not pay before the meal and the point when I chose the meal from a menu, that did involve interaction so it isn’t quite the anonymous experience that you get from Matsuya (and I sort of prefer). The bill came quickly upon request and the food was quick and suitable to fill you up but I was not left sated when I left. I hoped Matsuya was not a false memory. This ended up being a reminder of why I did not have Yoshinoya^[2] much at all.


Yoshinoya Otsukaeki
2 Chome-46-3 Minamiotsuka, Toshima City, Tokyo 170-0005, Japan
〒170-0005 東京都豊島区南大塚２丁目４６−3

Cost of gyudon: 352円(＋税) (approx 140 yen was £1 at the time)



Matsuya
This was my personal favourite chain of fast food places in Japan but I did actually have other food more often than the gyudon and I liked the basic salad as an accompaniment (to the dressing!). I went to Nakano and it was raining hard but the visit seemed a good use of my time.

Entering, I was not asked to sit down or given a menu - instead, I went over to the vending machine and made my choices. There are quite a lot of places in Japan where you pay by vending machine first and I think that this means that the staff do not have to handle cash (and food) which is a wise thing to do from a hygiene perspective. It also means that you have paid before you get any food^[3] which is a fast-food convenience. In the past, these machines were tall multi-button machines that had all the different menu items written (in Japanese) and would spit out tickets for each of the items that you would then give to the staff. The process is the same now but the machines are now touch-screen and available in different languages to assist visitors. They still print out tickets (rather than sending the order to the kitchen) so it is basically the same. I ordered a classic combination of gyudon, salad, soup and a raw egg.

Matsuya is usually a mixture of bar seating and a few tables and I usually went for the bar seating as a solo diner. My food arrived quickly and I went to the condiment selection available on the counter. I added some sesame dressing to the salad, schimi spice to the soup and some pickled ginger to the gyudon along with the raw egg.
As always, I started with the salad and soup - both items that I would normally describe as unremarkable but hitting all the right notes. The salad is very basic with a sprinkling of sweetcorn^[4] but with a selection of dressings, it could be varied easily and I added sesame. And the dressing is moreish enough to make the salad something to add to all meals. The soup is always included with the gyudon and would, therefore, be fairly basic but it was warm and had the umami that I wanted. The gyudon itself was exactly what I wanted - a Greatest Hits of all of the gyudons I had had in London. Salty and sweet at the same time with the onion and beef. There was a tanginess to the ginger and smooth taste with the raw egg poured on top. This was not the disappointment I was fearing after Yoshinoya at all. This was worth waiting for...

I would definitely recommend a visit to Matsuya whenever you can!


Matsuya Nakano
2 Chome-29-8 Nakano, Nakano City, Tokyo 164-0001, Japan
〒164-0001 東京都中野区中野２丁目２９−8

Cost of gyudon: 320/380(premium)円(＋税) (approx 140 yen was £1 at the time)

<sup>1. The point about the food I had in Japan is that you could get some pretty decent food at fast-food prices such as Tempura bowls with rice or udon, Japanese curry and then more “local” delicacies such as Beef tongue, seafood bowls etc. The food was wonderful throughout.↩
2. I did quite like the breakfast options available.↩
3. It is worth noting that this seems to be how McDonald’s operates stores in the UK now.↩
4. Paul remembers a phrase I used when he came to visit in 2003 and I said that the Japanese had “elevated sweetcorn to its rightful place” by adding it to salad. This may have been at the very first Matsuya [link to original blog post] we shared, in fact, and so, in essence, where the project started from. ↩</sup>

Joker (2019)

I'm not a huge follower of the comic book film industry, which is now big enough to be considered a separate sub industry within the film one. Within that subset of cinema, to me, it feels like Batman is the standout over the last few decades - going back to the Tim Burton Batman. This could be seen as quite a milestone in a number of ways due to how it dealt with the subject matter. As ludicrous as it would now appear, the release of a darker^[1] interpretation of the comic book world (although as I understand it, the actual comic book world was dark) was groundbreaking and was a risk. It was dark enough that, in the UK, a new cinema certificate was introduced between the prevailing PG and 15 to enable more of the target market to be able to see it (or at least pay to see it). The 12 certificate was in itself a milestone in cinema - regulations understanding the teenageification of cinema. Involving some proper stars in the production, Jack Nicholson was the scene-stealer as the Joker. This particular cycle of Batman films went forward for a few years until Batman & Robin in 1997, attracting bigger and bigger stars in conjunction with worse and worse reviews. The Joker happened to be the most compelling of villains and the remaining films recognised that by requiring teams of baddies and goodies to make up for that.

A decade and a half later, the franchise needed another reboot and the feted Christopher Nolan, known for well regarded films such as Memento and Insomnia but nothing approaching the scale of Batman, was handed a suitcase full of cash to direct an "origin" story in the form of Batman Begins. Yet again, this was a darker reinterpretation of the comic book world that showed Batman in a simultaneously positive and negative light. In the shadow of the Iraq War, it was clearer and clearer that goodies and baddies were harder to delineate at all times. Could bad people have been "good" in the past? As Batman Begins did very well for the studio, they decided to give Nolan even more money and leeway to do whatever he wanted. Second album syndrome kicked in and the next film became bigger and broader in all the ways it could - best exemplified by the astonishing use of IMAX filming for a number of scenes. These scenes are all superbly put together and the second album was actually pretty popular - making over a billion dollars at the box office. Again, when you want to make it count, you bring in the Joker. This Joker was played by Heath Ledger who, unfortunately, passed away after filming but before release lending the film an odd atmosphere knowing that the deranged character on screen had died. The performance was screen filling (although I think it is fair to suggest that Ledger's death may have had the effect of elevating the performance too) and all Jokers after this would need to be measured against this.
And the next cinematic Joker is coming along without Batman now. How does that symbiotic relationship work without a relationship?
As a film, this one, made by Todd Philips, seems to have generated quite a lot of commentary because of the nature of having a protagonist to relate to that you aren't supposed to. Telling the story of how a damaged man, living with his mum in Gotham, could turn and fall to the depths of becoming someone that just wants to see the world burn. From victim to villain, it must surely be seen as a parable for the age to some degree, but is it?
In a sort of preparation for the themes developed here, I recently watched both Taxi Driver and King of Comedy. Both of these films look at people that have been somewhat marginalised by society and have been name checked plenty of times when I read about Joker. I'd read enough about it to get that image and heard that the direction could be seen as sympathetic to the loner's cause. It felt highly appropriate, therefore, to go to see this alone^[2]. The screening, on a Monday evening, was close to full so it had captured the imagination of the public and the crowd was a little less arthousey^[3] than usual at the Barbican.
The film itself starts off showing the difficulties of the disorder that Arthur Fleck^[4] has - an involuntary laughter that can manifest at inopportune moments. This does not always have the effect of disarming people around him so he carries a little card that he hands to people to explain the disorder. I'm not entirely sure that it is always believed to be a disorder by the recipients...
As for many prequels, and this isn't really a prequel but an "origin" story, the overall thrust of the narrative is already known and so it isn't "spoil"able in the same way. We see the effects of cuts to mental health provision as Arthur loses access to his therapist - a lady that tells him outright that it is due to budget cuts. As he spirals down and is picked on by strangers, he eventually snaps and shoots some office workers that were accosting another passenger. Why was he carrying a gun? Some other low level bullying by strangers that he was finding tiresome made him feel like he should. This shooting somehow gets seen as some kind of bellwether for the mood of Gotham as the victims happened to be part of Wayne Enterprises and this was class war^[5] - Gotham City had a new hero. That is the pivot of the film and the rest of the story follows Arthur Fleck in hiding until he eventually reveals himself in a television interview and becomes Joker.

The conversion of this act of violence into social commentary, largely off-screen in news broadcasts and television analysis that Joker is definitively not part of, was really unclear but is the defining moment of the film, and arguably, therefore, the Batman world. It ends up painting the Joker as a hostage to fortune and not really the one in control of his image. At the point when Arthur does take control of his image, he does so on a TV interview show. Robert De Niro is the TV host that seems to echo the role that he didn't play (but wanted to) in King of Comedy who happened to take an interest in one particular comedian that performed badly (Arthur) at a comedy club.
In my opinion, this part, the pivot, is not that well developed as to why this worked out in this way but the success of the film across the world seems to suggest that I am in the minority. As he walked out of the studio as a known murderer - having killed three strangers on the subway - he was now the Joker. Famous around the country and leaving as a hero of our times (to some) and walking through the physical manifestation of the “social commentary” that he had become - a riot on the streets about inequality.
I found Joker to be an interesting film but that was partially because in parts, it was infuriatingly ambiguous about what it was supposed to be saying. At other times, it was incredibly unsubtle about it all: “What do you get when you cross a mentally ill loner with a society that abandons him and treats him like trash?”. I don’t think it was cleverly ambiguous either, I just think it was muddled. Arguably, the story is one of how society has lost empathy and this is shown with swingeing cuts to public services that cause the decline by Arthur into the feelings he had. We are made to feel sympathetic towards a man bullied and pushed throughout his life, living as a carer with a dream for more but held back by society. And this is all true - he is a man that has been wronged by a society that has decided taxes for the public good are not affordable. But that is seemingly not the message being taken away and the glorification of the acts of violence do, in a sense, give some pause for thought. The character himself is fairly pathetic at the start and showing how a pathetic man can become a hero is a journey that is interesting and could appeal to those with a dodgy mindset. I think that is the concern but it is an old tale told in a fairly modern way. The story isn’t particularly new and I think is only a real problem if you live in a country with easy access to firearms. And if you live somewhere like that, Joker isn’t the biggest of your risk intensifiers!
One of the things it is worth bringing up is the nature of how believable it all is - there are parts where there is romance, or implied romance, that seems to be in Arthur’s head but this is never particularly clear. I usually like things like this and I cannot deny that these ambiguities did work for me. There is a current thread through a lot of social commentary about incels^[6] . This does sort of tie in as Arthur is attracted to somebody pleasant in the film but those acts of kindness by her may also lead him to misunderstand. It probably is not a coincidence that the murder on the subway occurred after saving a young lady from unwanted attention from “successful” men.

It is a pretty bleak film throughout and it is as bleak as you can realistically get within the audience you are aiming for - this is no Neon Demon though. There is a little bit of violence which I would liken to Drive - short and sharp. It is more visceral than The Dark Knight - there is nothing like the throwaway violence of a pencil in the eye, for example. That bleakness may be what has seen it being so well-received as it is outside of the mainstream envelope but I did not think it that good a film. Joker lives in the slipstream of the Nolan Batmans and although it is more intimate due to the nature of the story, it still is in the shadow of The Dark Knight. The end of Joker has him in a car and this seems to ape, fairly directly, a scene of Heath Ledger’s Joker riding in the back of a car looking out of the window. It may have been a homage but it really struck me as a copy. I would still recommend watching it because it is something that is outside of the normal bounds but I think a lot of the positive commentary will die away in the future when looked at fresh. In a way, I think it is worth seeing what so many seem to like sometimes.


<sup>1. This is always a relative term and the comparison was always with the Adam West Batman series which was fun, Saturday morning fare at the time in the UK. I used to like that as a child.↩
2. I think I prefer going to the cinema on my own and do so the majority of the time. I say think because it is, of course, also possible that I've just persuaded myself to believe that.↩
3. I think this really just means noisier - until a minute or so after the lights fully dimmed, it was still a bit chatty.↩
4. It appears that there is no canonical real name for the Joker and this is another one.↩
5. “There’s class warfare, all right, but it’s my class, the rich class, that’s making war, and we’re winning.”― Warren Buffett↩
6. This is a portmanteau of involuntarily celibate and refers to those that are not popular with the oppostie sex. It is used, within some circles, as a justification/explanation (sometimes one, sometimes the other) of acts of violence due to bottled up frustration. It is also a way, for some, to blame women for the acts of men when those women have done nothing wrong.↩</sup>

ロン丼牛ドン / London Gyudon 10: Shitamachi Ramen

Although it has been a while, the “Gyudon in London” project has not been entirely derailed. There are not that many places that advertise gyudon, as I have said before but I have noticed a few more places serving it on menus (usually posted outside). And number ten was spotted in such a way.

Returning from the lovely East Anglian city of Norwich^[1]

in the evening, I was hungry and fancied some dinner. I used to work around Liverpool Street and was sort of familiar with it and, although it changes, knew there were a few lunch places that might be open. In the arcade, a place was open amongst the shuttered stores - Shitamachi Ramen. I used to have lunch in the arcade fairly often and was always struck by the incredibly long queues outside the foreign exchange place that would stretch for a few shops - I guess that counts as good footfall for the other shops there too.

Only after ordering my chicken ramen did I notice that this Ramen bar was not just a ramen bar. Next door was another place called the Japanese-sounding “donburi” and next door to that was another Japanese-sounding place called "Kano Udon". Most intriguing. They were all connected behind the counter and so shared kitchen space meaning that even though they were shut, you could order from those other menus within Shitamachi Ramen .

Checking the menu, I saw that there was gyudon and then that meant, most of all, there was hope.

Externally at least, this felt right and ticked boxes for a gyudon shop:

Cheap

Quick, bar seating or *standing*

Inside a railway station

What it didn't have was that many people; plastic food to illustrate nor a ticket vending machine. But it was pretty close and it had hope. I texted Paul the menu and we were on our way^[2] - but only after I had actually had dinner which was that chicken ramen. I had to text it as there did not appear to be a website - just an instagram account @donburiuk.

A few weeks later (which you must appreciate, after almost a year, is actually pretty quick) we found ourselves walking over London Bridge towards Liverpool Street Station in something of a reunion after eleven months. Were we still friends? This walk would be a test - and that it was not even 6pm meant we had to kill some time too so the test was more than just a walk, it incorporated a drink too. But, not for too long as Shitamachi Ramen closed at 7 pm so we needed to have a fairly early dinner.

Walking in, I was rather tickled that the owner seemed to recognise me from my previous visit ^[3] so we had a quick chat and introduction. After a little discussion, Paul and I had a look at the menu to decide the side to go with the two gyudons - some gyoza, karaage and takoyaki. Classic

The order came all at the same time and we separated the three sides evenly amongst us. The rice bowl was surprisingly big but the topping of beef was not over all of that rice and was accompanied by a fairly large handful of lettuce to fill that space. I could tell that it was a good portion size but it did feel that they had skimped on the beef. Initially, at least. The sides all looked pretty standard - there isn’t much you can do with them visually but the proof would be in the eating.

I started with the takoyaki which I already knew. I really love takoyaki and these were passable - they set off the memory of takoyaki and that is good enough for me at this price (less than £3). I’m not sure I have ever had good takoyaki in the UK as it feels a little cold but even poor takoyaki tastes great!

Next, was to start on the gyudon and that could be different visually. The gyudon was at the basic end without egg or pickled ginger. That would add some different flavours but also adds some colour - in this case, the green lettuce seemed an odd look. I am not sure I have seen lettuce with a gyudon before. As I mentioned, I was a bit concerned because of the size issue. This was a misplaced concern as, once I dug in, I could see that it was also deeper than I had thought and was pretty good value. That wasn’t the only concern allayed and, as ever, I started with the rice and this was well cooked with just a hint of beef on it - that lovely clean white taste was still there. And the beef itself? Well, it was a bit stringy and really tasty. This was a winner from the first mouthful - and the few after that. Paul was in agreement too, this was a good gyudon and after a little mixing with the lettuce to try it out, it could also be judged to be well balanced with the greens. Delving deeper and deeper into it, the beef flavour started to mix with the rice in that pleasant way and this I found particularly satisfying. I then tried the other sides we’d ordered with the gyoza being pretty tasty but the karaage being quite exceptional. The sides at Shitmachi Ramen are pretty cheap and the karaage was just £2.10. The same chicken is also used in the ramen (which I had had earlier) but in this form is truly brilliant. I have to be honest, I am not quite sure why, but the coating is really nice without being at all overpowering. It tasted so nice, it even reminded me of the quality of the sweet potato at Machiya although maybe not quite there. But, taking the price into account, it was really quite excellent. Finishing off the gyudon after having more sides meant I was left with the flavoured rice that is always a joy to mop up.

Shitmachi Ramen was a surprisingly good find and the gyudon was fantastic - especially after so long and after a few disappointing meals in the last few. The gyudon was great and grew on me over the course of the meal. It is absolutely the kind of thing that I was searching for: quick, cheap and unpretentious. I think it is probably the second-best gyudon that I have had over the project behind only Koya (link) but it is far cheaper and is much closer in style to what I was actually after. It is a bit of a shame that I don’t commute via Liverpool Street station any longer! It is a shame that there is no egg or pickled ginger which would make it have the perfect feel for me. But it is very, very close to what I wanted from a gyudon. And all of that is without taking into account the karaage chicken which is just excellent. It was wonderfully soft and the coating was moreish.

I would really strongly recommend Shitamachi Ramen. I want to try out the other shops under the banner too but first, I want to have the gyudon and chicken again.

Cost of gyudon: £7.90

Shitamachi Ramen

The Arcade, 5, London EC2M 7PN

<sup>1. Norwich really is quite delightful and I have only become aware of its charms recently. It has also recently been described as one of the most irresistible cities in the world [link] so you should check it out if you have not been before.↩
2. The way to planning, not actually eating, yet.↩
3. When I had come before, I got chatting to the owner in a way that is not really normal for me and would seem quite out of character for most that know me. I asked a few questions about the gyudon (whether they had pickled ginger) and I got asked a few questions back about why I knew the food and so on. It was nice, we spoke a little and I explained that I had lived in Saitama many years ago [see my reblog for more details] and that I was doing a gyudon project. He seemed intrigued by this but I explained that I could not have gyudon as I needed to have my gyudon buddy with me.↩</sup>

Tetris Effect

What on earth could be interesting about another version of Tetris?
Well, how about if it was made by the same person, Tetsuya Mizuguchi that did Rez Infinite - a game so affecting to me that truly nothing could be the same again [link]^[1] . That was always going to pique my interest and it was further piqued by PSVR support. I wondered what would even be the point of VR for Tetris.

Tetris, itself, is a stone-cold classic and left the ”games” world to enter into the real world with the incredible success of the Gameboy version. I’m a huge fan and it is arguably the game that I have played most of all. It was my “T” in my “A-Z” rundown and that is probably a better guide to the basics of Tetris although I would be surprised if many required a primer on this particular puzzler. Tetris is about creating space to be ready for the future and filling an absence. What we are doing, when playing Tetris, is making gaps to fill later - it is the making gaps that is the game, filling them later is almost an incidental part of the process. Filling those gaps is satisfying, no doubt, but it is only satisfying in the sense that you have prepared for it. And that preparation is all about managing risk using the probability of pieces - what are we going to get and how can we use it? As you get better and better, you can have a plan for each eventuality which is pure risk management. Because you are working in this way, this is actually management of negative space^[2] which is quite counter-intuitive. I think this is what appeals about Tetris - the anticipation is so enjoyable.

In many ways, it might be easier to list how Tetris Effect differs from the versions we have all played before and the biggest gameplay alteration is the use of variable speed throughout the game. I say, “throughout the game” but actually, once you start, there are two major sections to choose between - “Journey Mode” and “Effect Mode”. Journey Mode acts as a type of campaign mode and see you start off a series of 27 levels (or skins, as they are often referred to) grouped into bundles. The Effect Mode has a number of different variations on classic Tetris gameplay with different scoring mechanics with similar gameplay. As you unlock skins for Effect Mode by reaching them in the Journey mode, it probably makes sense to go through the Journey first to unlock as much as you can to use in the Effect Mode. There are some nice modes included with a number of variations on the theme with combo modes, speed runs and a weird infection mode too. The meat of the game, in my opinion, is the Journey mode however.

Variable speed is an interesting gameplay choice and one that was taken in Lumines - the musical puzzle game Mizuguchi released in 2004 to coincide with the launch of the PlayStation Portable. The effect of this variable speed is to lengthen a given “run” so rather than being a spurt of gaming with growing intensity, it has the ebb and flow of an album - a Journey in fact. This had quite a weird effect on the way that you played it in that it could last for a very long time within one run and had the effect of transporting you through the game and you felt that you were playing with it rather than trying to beat it^[3]. It also lends the game an experiential air rather than the score chasing mechanic that you come to expect from a puzzle game. I think that this is also true of Tetris Effect which, although it does have an explicit scoring system with grading, feels like a trip or a journey into and through the game. There are periods of intense pressure - and Tetris has a suffocating pressure as you tip so easily from manageable to "impossible to salvage" - but there is always a chance that the game will give you a chance if you can get to the next segment of a level that has lower speeds.

The start of the Journey mode is indeed slow and it does not speed up significantly for a while, it guides you in with a very calm hand and music that is both welcoming and sparse. Those first few sections are a great introduction to what Tetris Effect does and with such a relaxed pace, you can rack up the points with Tetris after Tetris.

The key differentiator with Tetris Effect is the connection and that connection is built through the sonic and visual flourishes that accompany your actions. Each time you move or rotate a block, that is accompanied by a sound effect which changes depending on skin. This is pretty standard in games - jumping in Mario will play the jump sound effect. And, as in Mario, that sound effect latches you into the game. Each line you clear will also generate a sound and a visual trick of some kind - a colourful particle explosion^[4] that is in some way related to the skin you are currently playing. This hardly sounds groundbreaking - this is just videogame mechanics. But, The Beatles (see Yesterday (2019)) were just guitar, bass, drums and vocals. The choices made by the development team to create that connection is on another plane with all those sounds making sense of what is around you in a way that seems barely human. And what a selection of sounds and visuals that have been created here, truly taking on the journey aspect of the game. Starting off in the deep, deep sea with whale sounds and effects to link you in, it is striking from the first minute. The initial minimalist soundscapes are layered on as you get more lines and progress through the stage with whale sounds accompanying the line clears. The next stage mixes that approach up straight away with an "in your face" set of sounds and music resetting your feelings and preparing you for an eclectic and always interesting selection of music through the journey.

With classic Tetris being so well known, there is a school of thought that Tetris Effect is just Tetris but prettier and with nice music. I can’t disagree but “just” is doing a hell of a lot of work here, and elevates a game that is already at the pinnacle of the genre to a geostationary orbit above it. It is worth thinking about what the purpose of those pretty graphics and nice music is and what they are doing to the player. That isn't a side effect of the game - that is gaming in a nutshell. The enjoyment of doing interactions is surely all that gaming is. Is that side-effect, what art is, in a nutshell? Invoking or evoking emotion into the "observer" is surely one of the defining traits of art. This isn't a debate worth having - Mizuguchi is an artist and so much more layered on top of that.
Tetris Effect is an absolutely stellar addition to the world of gaming with top tier graphics, an exceptional soundtrack and gameplay that fuses Tetris, a game that many would argue has claims to be a perfect game, to that visual and audio tour de force. And then layers a coherent and beautiful virtual reality implementation on top of it.

I can't really recommend this highly enough. It might not hit you in the same way, but it is so, so simple to at least try.
Honestly, I was really looking forward to this and many have said that it can be a transcendental experience and the pinnacle of what VR can do, and I do sort of agree with that but for me, this does not quite match that moment when it is all connected in Rez. But to be the second most transcendental experience (I have had) in all of the time I have been playing games is not a bad recommendation. Please do play.

Come follow me
I'll show you the side of yourself
The person that you've always been
But never dreamed
-------------------------------------

<sup>1. This was pretty hyperbolic in 2016 but I do still stand by it - “Rez Infinite is an incredible experience and game and I am not honestly sure that anything will be the same again.”↩
2. At school, many years ago, I used to do a subject called design and communication. I rather enjoyed it as it was about presentation of ideas. At the time, the teacher used to walk around and offer comments on our work and one time, he mentioned that one of my drawings was very good use of negative space. This brought a lot of laughter and mocking of my work by some friends as he seemed to basically be saying that the bits I didn't do (the white space) were very good. We all understood what was meant but it was still brought up even decades later!↩
3. Although it was very much trying to beat you!↩
4. These particles are used in a similar way to the particle effects in Rez Infinite's Area X which lends an impressionistic air to the explosions. ↩</sup>

Carried Away (2019)

One of the incredibly fortunate things about the way that I have grown up is that I have ended up being acquaintances with some very interesting and capable people. One of my friends from school (who I used to sit next to in Maths and Physics over twenty years ago! This feels like a less than standard path to being “in Theatre”) entered a playwriting competition for the first time:

We are looking to choose 12 pieces around the theme “Carried Away”, that are no longer than 4 sides of A4 paper, and need no more than 3 actors. They say restriction breeds creativity…

Although this was originally meant to be at The Lion & Unicorn in Kentish Town, and so rather convenient for me, I found myself, instead, at The Drayton Arms in SW5 - not NW5.
I asked whether this was a collection of retellings of the Miyazaki classic Spirited Away but it was not, it was a number of short plays based on the theme of “Carried Away” but with different titles.
I was, ostensibly, going to see “Jessica” by James Taverner^[1] but would obviously watch the others.

I got to the pub and then entered the theatre, but without the information sheet explaining a little more about the evening’s performances. As I found out later, there were two parts to the performances and fifteen plays altogether. Now, the thing about that information sheet was that it also had the names of the plays and the order they were in - so I was going in blind^[2] which was quite an enlightening experience. Unencumbered with the knowledge of which one I was supposed to like, I was able to watch the plays with a bit more freedom to like or dislike. The first part had a number of decent plays of differing types and with quite different ideas on what “Carried Away” could mean. It is worth saying that the competition entrants also had no idea what other pieces were entered so there was also not that sense of self editing by the entrants. There were a rotating cast of actors that switched roles and plays to go through them all. It was quite impressive to see them (and all very close - the benefits of an “intimate” venue) running through these varied roles that were nominally connected by the Carried Away thread. I liked about 60-70% of the first half which isn’t a bad hit rate for the cocktail of ideas presented. Importantly, I did not know if James’ play was in that 60-70% or not. I found out within the interval that it was not…

I enjoyed, most, a play about a woman on her wedding day being told by her brother that her husband-to-be was a knob. A short play like this can only ever be a little conversation but it was enjoyable nonetheless.

The second half did include the aforementioned Jessica and I can say that this tale, told through the rather neat conceit of a speed date, was probably most to my taste of all of the plays. I guess that this may partially be due to my tastes overlapping with those of my friend’s but I think it was also just a very good monologue. It told a tale of the use of technology and asked questions of the audience around the nature of ourselves, our memories and that which we leave behind which I think I have referenced multiple times throughout my blog. It was sort of lucky that I did not have to do any socially acceptable lying^[3] when James asked how it was. The second set of plays was probably a little more enjoyable overall and I had a good evening although the venue was very warm. I might search out more of these kinds of things (or, of course, I might not, as is more likely with my motivation) as the short plays have a structure that I can get with and even if I do not like an individual play, I am probably already quite a way through it by the time I realise! Also, the smaller plays will often have the cast and writers hanging out for a drink afterwards which is sort of fun.

In the unlikely event that you will be able to attend, Carried Away is by KDC Theatre and is running 9 - 13 July 2019.

<sup>1. I have actually mentioned James before, somewhat obliquely, when I revived my old Japanese blog [http://walletsandswords.blogspot.com/2013/07/revival.html] as he was living in China at the time and had started his own blog.↩
2. More blind than normal - don’t mock the afflicted.↩
3. I am a terrible liar anyway.↩</sup>

Yesterday (2019)

I like Danny Boyle and I like The Beatles, so why would I not like this? And therein lies a meta-question at the heart of this film - would the songs by The Beatles be popular if they were not by The Beatles?

I went to see this^[1] largely off the strength of it being by Danny Boyle rather than The Beatles as there is a lot of Beatles stuff. As a director, he has an interesting collection of films and he isn’t afraid of trying things out - and they definitely don’t always work. I always thought of him as someone that likes to challenge himself and might put obstacles in his way or try to achieve the best he could with limited resources^[2] . I do not think he has tried anything quite like Yesterday before - his last “feelgood” film I recall was Slumdog Millionaire and that had rather a lot of torture and pain for a proper feelgood film.
Yesterday’s setup is pretty simple, a jobbing singer-songwriter (Jack) is having trouble getting anyone to like his self-penned songs as he plays around local pubs and hotels Suffolk. Having played yet another poorly received gig in a small tent at the Latitude Festival, he decides to jack it all in - fed up with it all. Although his friend and manager, Ellie, tries to persuade him otherwise, he has had enough. And in this daze, he cycles off confused, annoyed and frustrated by it all. This state of mind isn’t conducive to safe cycling at night, especially in conjunction with a weird blackout and leads to him being hit by a bus. When he comes around he finds himself in a world where the Beatles have not existed - but he still knows all the songs. This, he discovers after singing “Yesterday” to some friends and discovering that they really like it (although, comically, it is hardly “Fix You” by Coldplay). What a power to have. It leads to a meteoric rise - but what happens after the rise?
The film answers the question of the Beatles’ songs by saying, “Yes, they would still be hugely popular”. Bereft of context, musical narrative and some of the pure innovation of The Beatles, yes, they would still be popular if heard for the first time. In this instance, the pure songwriting of The Beatles is being tested with no play made to the instrumentation nor the avant-garde production techniques pioneered George Martin. But that is just the music - none of the extra-curricular elements, none of the charm of the Fab Four, no Beatlemania, no Wings^[3] , no Imagine, no Thomas the Tank Engine, no Concert for Bangladesh. In a way, the absence of all of these elements to concentrate on just the music makes you realise what an amazing force they were in just over seven years (1963-1970). And what music.

The questions asked of me when watching this, however, were slightly different to the original one. Of course, it is still a point to ponder how much we can ever separate the art from the author and whether some of that art would ever have got a fair listen without the weight of previous history. But I think we can all agree that an album with Octopus’ Garden^[4] would be unlikely to be a multi-million seller without The Beatles previous work!
The creative process is a mystery to most of us and there is an argument to say that competence is doing something we know of very well but genius is doing something that most cannot even comprehend. So, within the film, when Jack is asked where all these songs are coming from, he can appear to legitimately say he doesn’t know. He keeps drawing from the well as he needs to but he is effectively communing with another world and drawing influence and inspiration from the multiverse. Is this really what genius is? I am not sure the film presents^[5] it like that - this isn’t a metaphysical exploration of the creative process - it is a much fluffier film than that. This is fundamentally a feelgood romantic comedy and more Richard Curtis than Danny Boyle.
Throughout the film, Jack is drawing on the past and so he knows that it is not creative, he comes up with post-hoc justifications but he knows himself that it is not real. There are some nods to imposter syndrome here which I kept returning to - the belief, or fear, you are about to be found out as a self-promoting charlatan is one that I have (and one I wish some more people in government had). Again, I am not sure that it was meant to be presented as such but the exploration of this theme did end in people just being happy about good things rather than wanting to see Jack’s failure.
As a film then, I have to say that it lacked some of the flourishes I was hoping for and really was played pretty straight. To go back to the premise, this was not something I could have pegged as a Danny Boyle film particularly. The whirling nature of the bus collision (which is very early within the film) was the closest I felt to directorial flair. The soundtracking at this point alludes to Beatles songs without being explicit - it felt very much like “A Day In The Life” and this method is used through the film. It is fairly subtle but will set the mood for the scene without quite being the “fanservice” that many will want. There are some interesting shots sprinkled in but nothing that really sears into your mind’s eye. But, sometimes flair just gets in the way and I think this simple film is not trying to be provocative or trying too much. Similarly, thinking too much about time warps like this is not worth the effort - be comfortable with suspending your disbelief.

The questions asked of me by the film are less relevant than the questions asked of me by people talking to me - “would I recommend the film?”. Yes. It is enjoyable crap - simultaneously memorable due to the content and yet fairly forgettable due to the softness of the whole thing. And sometimes, that is exactly what you want - whether you know it or not. It is genuinely quite a happy film with the skeleton of a great soundtrack - but the real songs are better.
It may not be the best film I have seen with a title shared with a Beatles song (that would be Helter Skelter) but definitely worth watching for fans and non-fans alike. If nothing else, I hope some people are introduced to the complete spectrum of music of The Beatles^[6] as then the world really does end up being a better place.

The trailer:

<sup>1. I saw this at the ever-reliable Barbican. It had an older crowd than the last few films I have been to see with quite a few older than even me!↩
2. For example, I thought he made Trance as an object lesson in what was the best you could do with a terrible film.↩
3. Wings? Who are they? Only the band The Beatles could have been. ↩
4. I use this for effect, I quite like it actually and is a component of probably my favourite album by The Beatles - Abbey Road.↩
5. But, how the film presents itself and what I get from it is often not the same thing.↩
6. as I was only ten years ago with the album re-releases↩</sup>

Brexit Day 29/3/2019

As the infamous Brexit Day (29 March 2019) passes us by with nary a flicker of change in the UK position, I can't help but feel irritated at where we are. Where I am is Poland (when written). My work cycle of seasons almost dictates my leave^[1] pattern and so I usually book some time off in March before my year end (I work for a company with a March year end and I help to create Statutory accounts - check them out at Clarion Investor Relations) work kicks off. This year, that happens to coincide with a weekend so I took the last week of the year off - mainly because I also wanted to be out of the country on Brexit Day. I had no desire to see the gurning faces of victory (and the potential disaster on day one if the many things not thought about had still not been thought about). Poland seemed appropriate for a few reasons.

• I hadn't been to Poland before
• I knew a few Polish people and I even liked some of them (this is soft power)
• Poland, as an Accession (2014) country, was arguably the reason why British people wanted to leave the EU.

The third item seems debatable but I'm happy to have that debate any time. Not one to go to one place, I decided to also go to Ukraine as it was neighbouring, I'd not been there either and I knew a few Ukrainians that I liked. And as it happens it was in an odd political space being pulled by Russia as an ex-Soviet state and pushed to the EU by desires to be a functioning part of the continent.

I travelled in a similar vein in 2010 when Cameron came to power which I didn't want to see. And like 2010, it hasn't quite been as smooth a transition to the next stage that I had feared. It has been a different kind of shitshow altogether.

Brexit has been a chastening experience, all told, and has seen me feel varying degrees of detachment and attachment to the UK as time has worn on. My blogging had always been a way to order thoughts (link) and pretty effective in making me feel better. The process, and the results, of that blogging has been having positive effects but I've been a little less forthcoming with posts (other than gyudon related posts)of late. The reason? Honestly? Brexit. Brexit has been quite debilitating for me and making sense of it all has been a journey that is unending and unyielding. I don't think I have been operating at what I thought was my normal level for a while now. I've tried to gather my thoughts on Brexit a few times but it is really hard to go back far enough, to order them in any meaningful way and also not become exhausted with rage.

This feeling has been pretty obvious to some and less obvious to others but it has asked some questions of me that I probably didn't want to answer. Chief among them -”Do I belong?”

Is the UK racist?

The interesting thing about this question is the difference between “is the UK racist? “ and “are British people racist?”. That's probably for another time, to be honest, but there would be different answers, I think, to those questions.

Running through my life as a Briton and Londoner, I'm not sure I noticed much racism within my lived experience^[2] . I cannot think of any that I comprehended at primary school and just some odd comments at secondary school that were passive rather than active. Racism wasn't on my radar at all and I remember, at secondary school, hearing about some form of prize or scholarship for minorities and wondering how that was fair. My school friends were all “white” to me to distinguish them from my friends via family who were largely of Bengali descent. It was only later that I realised how few of my “white” friends were actually white - it was a fairly classic multicultural environment.

University was my first, extended exposure to people that were not from London (or even cities at all) and, like a reverse of so many people that escape from small towns to the fresh air of University life, I was met by a new life. I didn't particularly like university life and regularly felt out of place in ways that I had not done before. I don't think this was racism either, in the main. But I do remember people often being a bit off with me in the first few weeks. It felt a little like a monoculture, to be honest. So far, so quiet.

After university, I went to Japan and that opened my eyes, a little more, to racism (in the sense of prejudice based on race). I taught English and the disappointment in some faces to be taught by a British person like me seemed palpable (but never voiced - so it could be paranoia). I think I generally won them over but that little kick of disappointment is one I sense in other situations now^[3] . I went to Japan in 2003 and the other big global event in that year was probably the Iraq war. Anti-Muslim sentiment ran high in the UK^[4] at the time and there were a few marches. One of those marches was said to be the biggest in modern political times^[5] and I was fairly anti-war at this point. I went to a demo/march in Tokyo too and my representative status there really gave me food for thought. If, for whatever reason, I'd been caught up in anything (such that the embassy would have to step in), I have no doubt that I would have been vilified by the right-wing press. How much would I belong to the British citizenship at that point? The biggest impact, however, was not my lived experience but my observed experience. Japan is a pretty monocultural environment and most of my friends there were other teachers - usually white. Some were very aware of, and sensitive to, (perceived) racism towards them in spite of not actually being able to understand Japanese to any real level. The classic exemplar of the time was when two white female teachers (and friends at the time) sat on either side of a Japanese woman on a train and the woman offered to swap with one. She offered in Japanese but also motioned to explain so that the friends could sit together. This seemed pretty kind and considerate to me (I was, of course, standing) and the teachers accepted. Afterwards, however, I was told that the woman had offered her seat because she didn't want to be surrounded by “gaijin” (foreigners ^[6]). This was claiming victimhood^[7] and made me think of all the things that they would definitely dismiss as not racist if it had happened to me in the UK.
One thing I've learnt is that British people are not racist (or xenophobic). They can't be - they are better than others. Brexit feels like this dissonance made flesh.

We were all representatives in Japan and I didn't take that responsibility lightly. I felt the weight of responsibility from a young age (maybe five or so) when I used to go to Bangladesh with my parents. I don't think I was ever told this, but I had to be engaging and Bengali enough to represent British Bengalis as part of the culture. It probably was never going to be enough for some - as I felt on later visits. In the same way that I will never be British enough for some people and, caught between those two stools, sometimes it feels inevitable that this means falling into the abyss.

Returning to the UK in 2006, it all seemed fine in my lived experience but I could see more and more anti-immigrant rhetoric from the mainstream media with the added benefit being that it could not be “racist” because we now disliked some white people too (Romanians [Farage says this: link], for example). This was the poison injected into the country's bloodstream and the amazing wrongness of the position was clear to me and then made even clearer at a talk I went to by David Goodhart [link]. That takes me to 2013 - and not June 2016. June 2016 was not the beginning of the sense of it, it was a tipping point though and I felt the split a month before the vote [link] when I visited Yorkshire. Ultimately I have not really suffered directly but have seen and heard enough to feel anxious about my place. And not just my place, but the place of people that are not like me and the fact that the clarity of Goodhart's position is never swayed by facts. And he is meant to be a clever one. The Pandora's Box is clearly open and I'm not sure if it can be shut soon.

This all predates the referendum itself and is worth pointing out to the many that seem to think it was all OK before that. But, it was better. The difference is how much people have been emboldened by now feeling that loads of people are actually racist/xenophobic like them.

The referendum and all that has come after it has absolutely shaken my sense of belonging to the country and also my belief that people in power actually knew when they didn't know something and would then defer as a result of that self-awareness.

I often feel like an alien in the UK and I also feel burdened with this sense that people that hate immigration actually hate me. And that I have not done enough to make them not hate me - and by extension anyone else, other people considered as immigrants, that is lumped with me.

I don't think people necessarily realise the pressure that some people from minority groups can feel in the representative sense. I know that my actions will, for many people, define a whole group of people. If I act badly, many will see that as people like me acting badly. For white men, they will not tar all white men with the same thing.

I have always thought this, but travelling with a friend recently reminded me of this disconnect more. I thought of how I try to stay calm and not raise my voice when speaking to staff at airports/airlines for example. And how if I spoke any differently, I am far more likely to be hauled away. As one of them.
I'm not coping well. I look around and wonder:

"Why are you not concerned?"; "Why do you do nothing?".

And then I think:

"Is it because you know you won't be first against the wall?"; “Is this solidarity?”

Brexit has sort of broken me, to be honest, by breaking that sense of belonging. And we all need a sense of belonging, we all choose what group we decide to belong to, to some degree but some of those choices are taken away.

I don't know how to put this really. I have a sense of loss. A disconnect from society. I guess I always knew that they never really had my back but then tried to pretend it wasn't the case. And I always felt that the "they" here were not as numerous as they are.

But they probably are that numerous.

I'll never forget, of course, but I'm also not sure I will ever forgive.

<sup>1. This word. This word… ↩
2. I was clearly aware of it outside my circle but, as someone that didn't go outside of London much as a child in the UK, I didn't feel it. I felt at home here but I didn't know that particular feeling was what I felt - I didn't have anything to compare it to. How would anyone feel at home if they've never felt not at home? ↩
3. Usually, when I tell people I am an accountant, for example.↩
4. More often called Islamophobia now to the disgust of racists, such as Melanie Phillips, who think this is a made up word. Because, of course, most words are given to us from up on high as any etymologist would tell you. ↩
5. Some are saying that the Brexit march of 23 March 2019 which I missed due to this holiday in Ukraine might have been bigger. ↩
6. I use this word as this is the word they knew for foreigners and is often pejorative (instead of gaikokujin). ↩
7. I think claiming victimhood is a major driver of the right wing's populist movement and this can be seen regularly in the claim of being against an elite and having an incredibly pliant media still be against them. ↩</sup>