Who though actually thinks about the words they sing in church?Both cases brought home the extent to which our
Posted in General on 24. Jul, 2010
Who, though, actually thinks about the words they sing in church?Both cases brought home the extent to which our cultural life is conducted at the level of effects rather than meanings. The Bishop used the word “wicked” about the hymn – principally, one assumes, because of the lines that run “The rich man in his castle/ The poor man at his gate/ God made them, high or lowly,/ And ordered their estate”. A touch too much passivity there for modern tastes, you’d have to agree – particularly if you happen to be one of those at the gate and have been fantasising about storming it. This chimed rather oddly with another of the week’s miniature scandals – the denunciation of “All Things Bright and Beautiful” by the Roman Catholic Bishop of Leeds. Here the case was almost the reverse – the Bishop got into trouble because he insisted on the literal meaning of a hymn which, for most of us, has long been sung into insensibility. Where other directors argue ponderously for the “relevance” of their work to contemporary issues, Mel seemed to urge the contrary on us – that the film was irrelevant to the present day.
How on earth could the SNP have confused such a storyline with their own political aims? The film, he explained, was intended to be “purely cinematic”.
In other words, it wasn’t intended to mean anything – the history, such as it is, is merely an excuse for some swashing and buckling by men with coconut-matting beards. His film is about the violent defence of national liberty, a film in which the English are depicted as double-dealing exploiters and in which Mad Mac himself delivers several blood-stirring speeches about throwing off the Sassenach yoke. But someone in the SNP obviously believed that the image of an Australian in slap might stir the dormant beast of insurrection in their torpid countrymen. What was most interesting, though, was Mel’s explanation of why he felt indignant. To my mind, the make-up for his performance in Braveheart, in which he plays the Scottish hero William Wallace, makes him look more like an Everton supporter on the warpath than an emblem of Caledonian pride. Mel Gibson, it was reported this week, was slightly miffed to find that his woad-daubed features had been appropriated for a Scottish National Party leaflet. It is impossible not to grasp the punters’ message to Clary – Carry on Camping.n Julian Clary is at the Playhouse Theatre, Northumberland Avenue, London WC2 (0171-839 4401) until 16 September.
“Still, at least it’s the right order.”Later on, he got a tipsy clergyman up from the audience – I kid you not – to operate the remote-control for a slide-show about the life of Julian Clary. As a reward, he fed him a banana from his “gay food trolley”. All this was conducted to hoots of delight from the sexually mixed audience. Anyone who chose a front-row seat, or worse still, handed over their handbag to him, had obviously never been to see him before. He even managed to contrive a double-act with an usherette about a colleague of hers who had taken his fancy.”Is Jamie in yet?” he asked.”No, he came and went.”"The story of my life,” he replied.
He must be the only comic – including even the late Frankie Howerd – who can turn the act of sitting down into an innuendo: “I do like to cling on to my stools.”As always, much of the show revolved around ritual humiliation of individual audience-members. Indeed, when he attempted something more unexpected – a weird sequence about Russell, his pianist, passing through Joan Sutherland’s small intestine – he was quick to acknowledge the error of his ways: “Getting a little surreal for some of you there. Please don’t panic, we’ll be straight back to the buggery jokes shortly.”Even in his new restrained, no make-up look, he did not let us down. On the evidence of his new show, he still has the audience where he wants them – in his throbbing, sweaty palm.
He may only have at his disposal one basic joke – re-told in ever more imaginative ways – but it’s a good enough one to sustain an hour and a half on stage. Since his tabloid-enraging remarks about Norman Lamont and fists at the British Comedy Awards nearly two years ago, according to the ironic Clary himself: “My career’s being going awfully well – as, indeed, has Norman’s.” Unlike the former Chancellor, however, there is no reason why Clary should not make it back into the limelight.