London Film Festival

It's been a hectic couple of weeks and all's been quiet on the Camden front. Well, that's not strictly true, as the BBC Electric Proms have turned the upper half of Chalf Farm Road into a star-strewn catwalk of celebrity glory. At least I assume it has - the closest I've been was trudging past the barriers for the live music awards, clutching my two Sainsburys' bags and muttering about people getting in my way. Still, have got tickets for Divine Comedy on Thursday, and believe that counts for something.

I have, however, made it to a few shows at the London Film Festival. Made it to Stranger than Fiction last week, which was basically a development of Adaptation, and possibly even the Last Action Hero, in terms of post-modern contrivances. Fun if a little forced and doesn't really make sense the more you think about it. Still, nice to see a quirky American indie film that doesn't feauture some Zach-Braff-alike looking winsome. Yesterday had a bit of a marathon with both Christopher Guest's For Your Consideration (good but way too short) and the Surprise Film, which turned out to be .... The Prestige. After last year's catastrophic Mrs Henderson Presents, this was a great relief (though there was some anticipatory buzz hoping for Casino Royale). It's a nice little turn, and reminded me of the supposed film adaptation of Carter Beats the Devil that was rumoured a few years ago. The trouble is that, like all such films from The Sting onwards, it's only half film, the other half being magic trick in its own right, keeping the audience misdirected and delivering the sort of pay-off which has at least a grain of genuine surprise. Trouble is, as time has gone on and writers such as David Mamet or Chris McQuarrie have chipped away at the number of genuinely good twists untried, what remains is either well-trodden and somewhat hackneyed or so fantastic that it challenges suspension of disbelief. The Prestige has both problems, though Christopher Nolan handles the whole thing stylishly as does a solid cast (though Scarlett Johansson's cockney accent is rather "Heather Graham in From Hell" - slightly too flat and forced to sit comfortably alongside Christian Bale's barrow-boyisms). Not quite Sideways or School of Rock but a darn sight better than Judi bloody Dench. Hollywoodland tonight.

Oh, and some rather head-in-hands news from the States.

Back from the Dead

Guilt overcame me yesterday, and after a beer-fuelled demonstration of Dead Rising to a friend of mine on Friday I clocked in a few more hours. It's definitely a challenge, and I'm not sure how much longer it's going to be before a restart is needed but my enthusiasm has been rekindled - especially after another few swings with a chainsaw at the hordes of the undead. Graphics are growing on me too - have only just noticed how Frank becomes progressively more bloodied as the carnage goes on.

Oh, and just as a break from interminable droning on about the Xbox 360,Dean Learner is back on 20th October at 11.05.

Boom! 100 Posts!

And each more pointless than the last.

Leisure time still fatally curtailed at the moment, though have delved far enough into Just Cause to experience the sheer underwhelmedness that most reviews have spoken of. It's not bad, just disappointing because there's so little substance given the potential of the game's mechanics and immense play area (indeed, in the latter respect it suffers from San Andreas syndrome whereby travelling from A to B - especially on mission business - can become an exercise in tedium). It's sandbox for the sake of sandbox, suggesting a laziness in game design when what is needed is a solid core storyline and enough purpose and motivation to the free-roaming element to make things interesting. Of course, this is still a holy grail that no game has quite reached (except perhaps Vice City, which had the network of businesses to tie the map together - something San Andreas foolishly did away with).

Phew. Have also managed to clock a surprising amount of TV. Enough, anyway, to conclude that Heroes is tiresome pomposity extreme, Entourage is more addictive than crack and that, given the cheeriness of the closing shots of Deadwood Season 2, Season 3 is going to be an apocalyptic bloodbath.

Xbox desert

Am feeling the Xbox pangs at present - has been weeks since I played a couple of hours of Dead Rising, let alone logged into my much neglected Live account. This evening may be the time (especially as I picked up a second hand Just Cause on Monday).

In other news am still shooting through Entourage - which works surprisingly well with Law work - and eagerly awaiting the next Prison Break. Also gleeful to report that new Battlestar Galactica lands on Friday.

Bit of a meandering and pointless post but that's all there is at present - sorry!