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The
Beestonian
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Issue no.
46
Motion Picture
I
MAYHEM!
t seems that every few weeks our local media announce the imminent arrival of a cinema in Beeston. The large empty space where the fire station / Blockbuster / that dead cheap offy once stood is, we’re told, dead close to getting a place to watch flicks.
We’re not, at least, not yet. No deal has been signed, and, even if it was, building on the site (known as ‘Phase 2’) would not begin for some time. What seems to be happening is no more than testing the water, gauging opinion. You can already catch a film in Beeston: the wonderful Beeston Film
Festival is planning its third incarnation; The White Lion puts on occasional film nights and one day soon we’re hoping to get our arse in gear and restart the Café Roya Film Club. The popularity and diversity of these events suggest we could happily welcome something more permanent and regular. This issue, then, celebrates cinema and its connection to Beeston. We have interviews with some local stars, an examination on Beeston’s crucial contribution to films over the years, some words of advice for cinema goers and more. Plus, the usual pic n’ mix of great writing, lovely design and general Beestonian excellence. Now, top up that popcorn, slurp that coke and settle down to the main feature… LB
The
T
Hemlock Stone
he Hemlock Stone today is a popular landmark with walkers and cyclists passing the stone hundreds of times a day.
that such legends reflect conflict between the early Christian Church and their pagan contemporaries. The tale is more often than not associated with prehistoric sites like the large monoliths or standing stones erected by Neolithic and Bronze Age man. Such stones were the centres of pagan worship well into the Christian
The Hemlock Stone was reputedly hurled from the hill above Castleton in Derbyshire
The stone as readers may be aware has been scanned by the Nottingham University’s Geospatial Institute in connection with the Nottingham Hidden History Team as part of the ‘Three Stones Project’. The stone is also at the centre of the popular event the ‘Hemlock Happening’, which takes place every year now and has become a popular event.
era.
Today however the Hemlock Stone is largely disregarded, to the extent that in the last few years it has been removed from the list of ‘sites of special scientific interest.’ The old idea of the stone being nothing more than the result of bad quarrying is once again popular and has probably been encouraged by property developers with an eye on the land surrounding the stone. This current lack of interest in the Hemlock Stone has not always been the case and the folklore and legends woven around such stones are an essential part of our heritage. Legend has it that the Hemlock Stone was hurled at Lenton Priory, some four miles west of the stone, by the Devil. This tale of the Devil or some mischievous force hurling a stone and missing its mark occurs throughout the folkliterature of Europe. It is generally accepted
Hemlock Stone, c 1900- Photo Credit: The Paul Nix Collection.
The village of Kinoulton in southeast Nottinghamshire once possessed a stone with an similar legend to that of the Hemlock Stone. This stone was, from its description, probably a glacial erratic and stood in the churchyard close to the old church. Sadly, both church and stone are now destroyed. It is interesting to compare the Hemlock Stone and Kinoulton legends in more detail. Both stones were believed to be missiles of diabolic origin aimed at ecclesiastical sites, Lenton Priory and Kinoulton church, respectively. The sites from which the stones were reputedly hurled are also of interest. Both are approximately thirty miles from their targets and both have legends of demonic occupants.
Hemlock Stone, c early 1900s- Photo Credit: The Paul Nix Collection.
The Hemlock Stone was reputedly hurled from the hill above Castleton in Derbyshire. Below this hill, upon which stands Peveril Castle (from which the town derives its name), is the Treekcliff Cavern. This massive limestone cave, once the home of prehistoric man, is reputed
to be one of the entrances to the ‘underworld’ and the haunt of the Devil. Moreover, when heavy rain issues from the cave in the form of streamlets, it is said to be the Devil urinating. In the case of the Kinoulton stone it was supposed to have been thrown from Lincoln Cathedral, where the Devil once let loose that evil entity ‘The Lincoln Imp’ who, after running amock, was turned to stone by an angel. To return to the Hemlock Stone and how attitudes have changed regarding such wonders, writing in the mid-eighteenth century, Dr Spencer Timothy Hall, a.k.a. ‘The Sherwood Forester’, provides us with yet more reasons for believing that the Hemlock Stone was once venerated by our pagan forefathers. The good doctor believed the stone to be of natural origin but to be man-enhanced, the result of deliberate quarrying. He goes on to say that when he was a young boy the old folk could remember a time when a fire was lit upon the top of the stone annually on Beltane Day. Nearby the Hemlock Stone was once the ‘Sick Dyke’. This spring was regarded as a healing well, especially efficacious to rheumatism sufferers. More than one writer on the subject has suggested that the ell was connected with rituals performed at the Hemlock Stone. The Hemlock Stone also has connections with three other stones, a possible standing stone on the nearby Crow Hill and two other local landmarks, the Cat Stone at Strelley and Bob’s Rock at Stapleford. JE
T
he nerves are starting to build as I sip on a red wine at Middle Street Resource Centre. In a few minutes, Britain’s best film / TV director will be arriving for a night of film, followed by a Q+A, which I’ve been asked to compere. Of course, I couldn’t refuse, but as my stomach flips again despite the best efforts of the booze, I start to question my judgement. I’ve met Shane on several occasions, and he’s disarmingly lovely each time. A relaxed, funny, friendly chap who never acts starry -you won’t see his legs clad in leather trousers, his eyes will never be hidden behind £900 Oakleys – nevertheless, he’s an artist who has cut a unique swathe through British film over the last two decades. He probably has Spielberg and Scorsese on speed dial. He arrives, I chat to his wife and tell her of my nerves. “Oh, don’t worry. He’s really nervous tonight”. As he’d been on the telly a few days before receiving a BAFTA in front of the UK’s finest, this is both baffling and consoling. He’s here for a fundraiser. Beeston Resource Centre has had a rocky time in the past, with funding always uncertain and closure often looming. However, it’s wonderfully wavered all storms, due to the invaluable support it gives many. We are never less than amazed when we visit at the sheer amount of stuff they do there: it’s an incredible resource, hence the name. However, the charity that runs it, Beeston Community Resource, can’t be too complacent, so when Shane offered to help out with a themed evening, there was no hesitation in their response. And here we are, with Shane putting together a fantastic set of films. He had been spending time recently viewing some of his early short films - two had snapped in the projector so he realised he needed to digitise them for archive purposes, doing a bit of tidying up on the way. At the Centre he treated the audience of eighty to an insight into some of his earlier work: ‘The Datsun Collection’, made in 1994 was, he said, the second film only he had made and the first to feature other people! From 1995 he showed ‘The Zombie Squad’, a film completed and shown in a single day, and which had never had another public viewing. Having given himself the challenge of ‘a film in a day’ far more volunteers turned up to be in the film than he had expected and his solution was to create a group of zombies who didn’t need to learn any lines. A surprise for many of us was that Shane himself appeared as actor in these two early shorts, and in the scatalogical ‘Le Donk and His Arsebag’ featuring the comic genius of his good friend, Paddy Considine.
A break for wee and wine, and we’re back for the Q+A. Any nerves dissolve as Shane joins me in front of the audience. He recalls when I gave him a Beestonian t-shirt at a Café Roya Film Club “I’ve still got it. You gave me one in small. I’ll get into it one day”. I ask about his appeal, his unique touch “back in my childhood I remember being able to shifting from belly laughs to utter fright in no time at all. That ‘light and dark’ has subconsciously made its way into what I do” He tells of how when making Dead Man’s Shoes, perhaps one of the most terrifying revenge films ever made, the cast and crew would be belly laughing off camera throughout. That’s his favourite film, as well “I was really depressed at the time. I’d made a bad mistake and had a horrendous experience trying to make a big, celebrity driven piece, rather than go with my instinct (he’s referring to Once Upon a Time in the Midlands) . Y’know how there is that saying “the phone stopped ringing”, well, that’s very true, it literally didn’t ring”.
William Ivory, has been on the cards for some time, delayed in the past when Shane was invited to film the return of The Stone Roses, which became the rockumentary -thank you – Made of Stone. That would be a departure from his past work, but that’s what makes Shane such a fascinating director: his obvious pleasure in having the chance to follow his interests and his instincts. We are very lucky to have him in our midst. The night finishes with a vote of thanks courtesy of Radio Nottingham’s John Holmes, and a final glass of wine. A great night had by all, and £1,000 in the Resource Centre’s coffers. Cheers Shane. CUT! LB & CT
“I knew I had to trust my instincts and make a film that was mine. We made Dead Man’s Shoes for just £700,000, not a lot in film. I threw myself into it, and it worked”. He talks about his previous ambitions as a singer -he was in a band with Considine, who talk the duties behind the drums – and looked perplexed when I asked him what he’d have done if he’d not made film making such a success. What does his two young boys think of daddy’s fame “They’re just starting to realise that I do a strange job. It’s not the fame, I don’t think that is apparent, but they see me on telly and that makes them sit up. It’s strange. Our family growing up never made it on the telly -well, Crimewatch maybe….” There are some real surprises thrown in. The incredibly complex scene in This is England ’90, where Vicky McClure’s Lol confesses to murdering her father round the dining table, was done in one take, using a complex nine camera set up “You should have seen what that room looked like. Looked like the TARDIS”. There is the very real chance of another instalment of the This Is England story, but not on the telly “It might be interesting to do a film sometime along the line. Get the characters together. Whatever year we do, we’ll show it in that many cinemas…who knows?” More likely to appear soon is his much delayed biopic about legendary British cyclist Tom Simpson, who -spoiler alert – died while tacking a mountain on riding the Tour de France. The project, working with the brilliant screenwriter
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[ Bendigo ] part ii
I
n our last issue we wrote about Bendigo, the Beeston based boxer and campaigner. Local historian Alan Dance, who has researched Bendigo for a new book (out soon!) contacted us to tell us how some of the things we know of Bendigo might have been the product of some artful image manipulation from the giant pugilist himself. Read on, as Alan explains all...
I thoroughly enjoyed the article in issue 44 about Bendigo – real name William Thompson – but I’d like to take this opportunity to correct some of the details shown. I have recently been doing some in-depth research into his life in preparation for a forthcoming book – Bendigo, the Right Fist of God – of which more anon. Much has been written about him over the years, most of it, apparently, based on a newspaper article published in 1874. In that year James Greenwood, a London journalist, interviewed Bendigo. Perhaps he was not too clever
with dates and numbers and other facts about his life; perhaps he was prone to exaggeration or just liked to spin a good yarn. And he had spent over twenty years in the ring, and had consumed more than his share of Nottingham ale. Perhaps the first thing that trainee reporters are told is Never let the facts get in the way of a good story. It certainly seems to have been the case with Greenwood’s article, for this sowed the seeds for the myths that are still being perpetuated. So, let’s look at some of these. The best known two are that Bendigo was the youngest of 21 children and that he was one of triplets, whose mother gave them the nicknames of Shadrack, Meshack and Abednego, after the three men thrown in the ‘fiery furnace’ on the orders of King Nebuchadnezzar (Book of Daniel, Chapter 3). Mmm. Really? OK, let’s examine the records. These show that Benjamin Thompson and Mary Levers were married at St. Mary’s Church Nottingham on 12th July 1805. Their first child, Rebecca, was born three months after their wedding and was baptised at St. Mary’s on 11th October 1805. Then came Thomas (baptised 30th May 1807) and John (20th November 1809). Then we come to William. In later life, William appears never to have mentioned the other two of the alleged triplets. Not surprising, since the Parish Registers clearly show that on 16th October 1811, Richard and William, the twin sons of Benjamin & Mary Thompson were baptised.
No mention of triplets. Not only that, but just 12 days later, on to the 28th October, Richard was buried. He had perhaps lived for less than 3 weeks. Now, triplets are fairly rare, but it is possible that Mary did give birth to three boys. The only possible explanation is that one died at, or very soon after his birth. No record exists of either a baptism or burial, but in 1811 there was no legal requirement to register either. If there was a third child, then it must have been quietly disposed of, possibly by the midwife. Only one child survived, so why would his mother need to think up three nicknames? So, after six years of marriage, Mary had given birth to 5 children (possibly six). Yet Bendigo claimed to be the youngest of 21. He definitely wasn’t, for on 8th January 1815, another child, Mary, was baptised. However, she too died young, being buried on 3rd July 1818. William was almost seven at the time of his sister’s death, so he ought to have remembered her. But as she was the last child of this marriage, it is true to say that William was the youngest surviving child; but of six, not 21. Much could be said about Bendigo’s family. His father was reputedly a mechanical genius, but a bit too fond of the ale (he dropped down dead in the Kings Arms in Chapel bar in 1827); Bendigo’s brother John became a respected optician with his own business; his nephew William (son of Thomas), killed his wife in 1876
at their home in Sheffield and was tried at Leeds for her manslaughter (he was found not guilty). Bendigo, of course, had a glittering career as a pugilist, but died in his cottage in Beeston in August 1880. But even after death the myths continued, for it was soon claimed that he had been buried in his mother’s grave. The truth is, she had died in September 1854 and rests in the General Cemetery, almost a mile from Bendigo’s grave in Sneinton. Ironically, she is the only occupant of the grave, and there would have been room for Bendigo to join her. So just how do these myths come about? No doubt celebrity status plays its part, the desire to exaggerate, and of course the tendency for newspapers to print what they believe will sell. I mentioned earlier a forthcoming book. Bendigo – The Right Fist of God will be published later this year. This is a novel based around his astonishing life story, and has been jointly written by myself and David Field, (author of In Ludd’s Name, reviewed in Beestonian Issue 44). You may wonder how we dealt with the truth and fiction surrounding his life. Since we are both keen historians who are reluctant to perpetuate myths, we have not repeated any of the untruths. We think, however, that we have dealt ingeniously with these anomalies, but just how, you will have to wait for the book’s publication to find out! AD
Trailer
Trash: Scott Bennett on the Cinema experience
L
ast month, one afternoon in Manchester I had time to kill so I did something I haven’t done before, I went to the cinema alone, and it was bliss. Well, it got me thinking about some of the cinema experiences I have had, both as an adult and a young moviegoer. So here in no particular order are some of the most memorable: Terminator 2 (1991) Wakefield ABC Cinema (Now demolished) Certificate 15 As an Austrian body builder with zero acting range, a cyborg that is unable to covey any emotion was the role Arnie was born to play. I remember the hype around this film, everyone at school wanted to see and there was always a lad at school who claimed he had already seen all of the blockbusters years before. He had an uncle in America who had a camcorder and sent back recordings to his dad hidden in the belly of a Care Bear on a British Airways flight into Leeds Bradford airport. Of course this was in the days where camera technology wasn’t very advanced, they were massive for starters, they looked like something you’d win on Bullseye. Smuggling a family sized bag of Maltesers is one thing but a 3-foot Sanyo camera that weighs the best part of a sack of gravel would’ve been impossible. It was a false economy anyway; £10 to watch the back of a blokes head, and the awkward moment when he whispers that he needs the toilet and you are forced to watch him taking a leak. Terminator 2 was a certificate 15. My dad took a friend and me, we were both 12, but he was lucky enough to have a face ravaged by puberty. Surprisingly getting me in was okay; I just tucked in behind my father, strode confidently and remembered to keep puffing on the cigarette. Marley and Me (2008) Nottingham Showcase Cinema Many films are classed as date movies, which often means a film which I have no interest in seeing but will see to appease my wife. Marley and Me was one such movie. Owen Wilson has all the charisma of a dish cloth and
Friends star Jennifer Aniston frankly reminds me too much of Iggy Pop. It was a film about a family who buy a dog, the dog becomes part of the family and then the dog dies. Now we have never owned a dog, we’ve never wanted a dog, yet my wife was inconsolable. Even my offer of nachos or a hot dog (not the greatest suggestion on reflection) could distract her from her grief.
Scott Bennett
I’m not totally unfeeling don’t get me wrong. I understood why she was moved to tears. There are many films that often turn me into a gibbering wreck with puffy eyes, like Rocky 4. Sylvester Stallone’s’ heartfelt speech at the end, clumsily delivered, full of anti-Russian sentiment and blundering American pride, often makes me want to grab a US flag, order a burger and weep like a baby. Saving Private Ryan (1998) Curzion Cinema Loughborough When I was a student the local Cinema in Loughborough would offer a student night where you could go and see the latest releases for £2.50. Amazing value. One night we decided to have a night off from studying (drinking) to see Saving Private Ryan. We sat there passing down snacks, which we’d smuggled in, and then settled down as the film started. Now those first twenty opening minutes are probably some of the most raw and visceral things I’ve ever witnessed, they took your breath away. I remember looking round at that packed cinema and noticing absolute silence, we were all spellbound and remained so for the entire film. That’s the power of cinema, a total immersive experience. I love it. 50 Shades of Grey (2015) Leeds Odeon Certificate 18 One of the most anticipated films of last year and nearly two hours of my life I will never get back. My wife wanted to see it. I was concerned. I’d heard Christian Grey converted his own basement into a dungeon. DIY isn’t my forte. It took me two weeks to put up some shelves. I think a dungeon is beyond me, and it’s not like I could ring my dad for help. My wife said stop being ridiculous, we were all adults and that we were going to go on a double date with my brother and his girlfriend. We sat in couples to make things less uncomfortable, because the last thing you
want during the sex scenes is to see your own brother. I had another worry during the screening too. I get involuntary muscular spasms; it mainly affects me at night before I go to sleep. But we were at the concession stand buying popcorn. As I was about to pay I had a muscular twitch and chucked about £8 change into the popcorn. Things were tense enough. Now every mouthful she took I worried she was going to choke on a pound coin, and pulling off the Heimlich manoeuvre during in erotic thriller would have been awkward to say the least. The film is dreadful and one of the most confusingly misogynistic films I’ve ever had the misfortune to see. The message seems to be if a bloke’s obscenely rich, good looking and buys you things, then happily sign up to be his slave. I’m sure the attraction to Christian Grey wouldn’t have been the same if he was a fat lorry driver from Wigan who took you to his mum’s when she was at Bingo to spank you on the bum with a Gregg’s Steak Bake. SB
from
t e o P d r a c t s o P The Recently, I’ve got back into writing letters. I got myself a pen pal via the social media platform Instagram, and started writing. Then, I noticed that my pen pal was also writing to someone called ‘thepostcardpoet’, and being a collector of postcards and a poet, I checked out her Instagram account. Here, I was faced with a colourful array of photos of various postcards. I clicked on one and saw the address the postcard had been sent to. Beeston. I thought, ‘Wow! That’s where I live!’ and I left her a comment telling her this. So, why was a girl from Beeston receiving postcards from all over the world? I decided to meet her and find out. We met for coffee in The Bean… Emily Richards is currently doing an MA in Writing at Warwick University, but has moved to Beeston with her boyfriend Pete to go on to do a PHD in Creative Writing at the Uni of Nottingham. On asking her where she had received postcards from so far, I was told a multitude of countries and towns that are best illustrated by the map of the world that Emily keeps on her bedroom wall and updates with every postcard she receives. [PICTURE] But, for your interest, here are some of the brilliant places they have arrived from: Montreal, Canada; Hi Chi Minh City, Vietnam; Cape Town, South Africa; Brisbane and Warriewood, Australia. And in the UK: Brighton, Birmingham, London, Newtown, Coventry, Dublin, Durham, Devon, Sheffield, Preston…and of course, Beeston (I sent her one!)
‘The project started,’ she tells me, ‘because my poetry teacher, Jonathan Skinner, showed us all the small press poetry books he’d made and received in his life. Lots of them we’re poetry zines shared by post, and one was a collection of postcards from poets in Boston.’ The idea of using the postal service to share poetry appealed to her, and she goes on to tell me that she’d been listening to a poet ‘talking about how William Wordsworth used Dorothy Wordsworth’s diary to create his poetry.’ The combination of sharing poetry via the post, using other people’s words, and being inspired by your home ‘all fed into the idea,’ she says. The project’s aim is to ‘collate worldwide perspectives on home’ and I asked her if the project had turned out the way she thought it would when she first began it. Originally, she wanted to create a collection of poetry by taking lines from the postcards, but once postcards started arriving, she discovered something different. Rather than reading poetic lines, she was reading about people. Regarding the theme of ‘home’, she discovered that ‘everyone has the same opinion of what home is, no matter where they live or how old they are. Home is a state of mind, a place where they feel comfortable.’ As a response to this, rather than asking people to write about what home means to them, she asks that they write about themselves and where they live. ‘This gets more personal answers,’ she says. It means that rather than finding poetic inspiration, she has found the voices of other people. After I had initially contacted her, telling her I was from Beeston, she said: “It’s amazing the project took me all the way to the other side of the world then back to Beeston.”
During our meeting, amid discussions of home and what home means, I asked her what Beeston as a home means to her since she moved here. As someone who has lived here my whole life, I was curious to know what Beeston is like through the eyes of an outsider. Since one of her hobbies is walking, she’s found that wherever she is ‘walking around makes me feel at home’, but Beeston (and the surrounding area) specifically? She enjoys ‘walking and running around Highfields’ and she and Pete did a café crawl on which they discovered Greenhood Coffee House. Emily also tells me how much she enjoys the pub quiz at the Crown. Towards the end of our meeting, we had an unexpected visitor… her boyfriend Pete turned up, so
we both wasted no time asking him what he thinks of Beeston as his new home. He said that what makes him feel at home is ‘having regular places to go, shop and eat. Getting a familiar routine associated with a place.’ This routine can be as simple as ‘shopping at supermarkets and figuring out the bus routes’. Emily is keen to get more people from Beeston to send her postcards, in the hope of finding that people might have different perspectives on the same place. If you want to find out more, then visit Emily’s blog at: poetryinpink.com or follow her Instagram account dedicated to the project where you will find a link to a blog post containing all the info you’ll need: @thepostcardpoet JM
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Beeston Players
S
he invites me inside, makes a drink, and I ask how last night went. She sips her tea and smiles proudly. “It went really well. I thought it was the best they’ve ever done it.” Well, only six hours later, when I’m watching Barbara and the Beeston Players’ second performance of Caught in The Net, I can’t agree more. But we’re not there yet. It’s still just Barbara and me sat on her sofa, drinking tea. When I asked to speak to the most longstanding member of The Beeston Players I didn’t realise just how far back they went. The troupe started in the late sixties, with Barbara joining in 1970 after being invited by a friend named Elson to see them do Noel Coward’s Red Peppers. “We used to go drinking in the Crown. Elson was in there. He was in the group, we got chatting, and he asked us if we’d like to go see it, and I really enjoyed it!” It seemed Barbara was smitten, with the theatre at first anyway. “Red Peppers was very funny! It was just two people, Elson and Anette in the main parts. There was singing and lots of arguing. It was a lovely play.” Shortly after, Elson invited Barbara to get involved. “I dragged my sister along because I didn’t want to go alone, but we were welcomed with open arms.” Why was that? “Well, I had a sowing machine and she was a commercial artist.” She laughs. “Within a week we’d already got jobs backstage. I was doing costumes and she was painting sets. We fitted in quite well!”
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That was the beginning of a passion for all aspects of theatre that lasts to this day. Barely a year later in 1971 Barbara was given her first part, playing a 14 year old schoolgirl (she was 23 at the time!) in Peter Shaffer’s Five Finger Exercise.
There have of course been highs and lows, stellar performances and bad ones, members come and gone, high turnouts and low turnouts. I ask Barbara for a highlight of her long career. She’s not sure if it’s a highlight, but the memory of one memorable evening springs quickly to mind.
“I just loved it,” she says. Later I’m sat in the hall of Round Hill School, looking out over a packed crowd and I have to say, I’m excited. Then there’s silence as the curtain rise slices through it. I’m not going to go into detail about the plot (this isn’t a review of the play, but I loved it), but as a comedy farce, Caught in The Net is full of slapstick, mistaken identity, word play, and more twists and turns than an M. Night Shyamalan movie. The whole play is superb. Samuel Williams is excellent as father John Smith caught out in a lie and trying desperately to cover himself. Noreen Boyle is eerily good at playing his 15 year old daughter Vicki, veering perfectly from sweetness to temper tantrums at the flick of a hat. Sue Frost, Jill Griffiths, Alistair Hudson and Kai Robbins are equally funny in their roles as well. But the standout for me is Gary Frost who, whilst not being the central character, carried much of the play himself. Gary is an absolute joy to watch as “uncle” Stanley Gardener, Smith’s hapless but thoroughly likeable best friend. For the better part of two hours, I laugh and snort and even have my heartstrings pulled, and then as the final curtain drops I join in with the humongous applause. Out of five stars? I give it a… Wait, I said this wasn’t a review didn’t I? Ah screw it. Five out of five! So it’s hours earlier and Barbara has positively wowed me (as the play will later on). Since joining in 1970 she has been everything from costume maker, set designer, front of house, group secretary (which she still is), right through to actor and director. It was even through the Beeston Players that she met and married her husband Elson Barton, on September 15th 1976.
“It was ’95. We were doing J.B. Priestley’s Dangerous Corner, and we had a superb actor for the major role; Robert Caplan. Well, on the first night he seemed fine. The second night he said he didn’t feel too good. The third night I had a phone call from his wife to say ‘He’s got a temperature of 104 and won’t be able to come.’” “I remember looking at Elson and saying ‘What are we going to do?’ We didn’t have anybody else. No understudy. Elson said ‘You’ll have to do it.’ “’What me? I can’t be a man!’” “’Yes you can. Put on your trouser suit, and get out there with your book.’” “We couldn’t cancel it. I suppose it was logical. I’d directed the play, so I knew where Robert needed to be, where everybody else was, and I did know all the words. So that’s what I did! But after the first five minutes I really started to enjoy it, and somebody in the audience said afterwards that after the first five minutes they didn’t even notice!” What a story! With that Barbara says goodbye. She’s planning on spending the afternoon with her grandson before tonight’s performance. I hope I can make it, I wonder if it’ll be any good? The Beeston Players will return in November with Disposing of The Body. www.beestonplayers.org CF
10 FILMS (SORT OF)
ABOUT BEESTON GANDHI: Not only was Richard Attenborough’s family from Beeston (well, that bit to the South with all the water), but Gandhi himself came a waltzin’ here way back in the 30’s to have a look round. The late Dickie somehow left this crucial moment out of the blockbusting biopic. A remake perhaps, mostly set round the Rylands?
BATMAN: Right this is a big one, so strap in. You’re probably going to assume that as the latest Batman (not the one with him pointlessly fighting Superman) was filmed up at Wollaton Hall, we’re going to go for that. Nah, too easy. We’d like Wooly Park and Hall to be part of Beeston, but selfishly Wollaton rather prefers to keep it. So we won’t go with that. Perhaps the Gotham link, then? Just over the Trent is the village where Batman’s home city was named (it’s a long story, but it’s not a coincidence: all about fools, kings, and nicknames for New York). Maybe we can ride on the coattails there? Too easy. So perhaps, we could look at the 1989 film version of Batman, directed by senescent withered goth Tim Burton? As everyone surely knows, the crook who becomes the latex-friendly vigilante’s first victim is played by the actor Christopher Fairbank. That’s Christopher Fairbank, who played Scouse carpenter Moxey in Auf Wiedersehen, Pet. Which, as previously reported here, was filmed in Beeston. But no. He was also in Alien 3 and The Fifth Element, so too easy.
Let’s instead look at Alfred, Batman’s butler. Michael Caine covers the role, but beneath that oaky cockney veneer lies a secret. Caine is a secret aficionado of avant-garde chill out tunes. No really. On Desert Island Discs a few years ago, he chose as a favourite track ‘Swollen’ by Beeston band Bent, who we featured a couple of years ago. Caine also released an album of chill out music called, wonderfully, Cained. Go on, check. Have a look at the track listing while you’re there. Oh, see track 14? Beeston through and through. There are other links but unfortunately we only have 16 pages so we’ll leave it there.
piece. The tale of two unemployed actors at the arse end of the sixties who go on holiday by mistake is one for repeated viewings. Little known is its connection to Beeston. Y’see, Withnail was based on a real character, the actor and ‘splenetic wastrel of a fop’ Viv MacKerrell. Many in Beeston still recall the times MacKerrell would stalk the pubs of Beeston, never shy to give up his opinions or accept a drink. Sadly, the drink caught up with him, and he died in 1995 aged just 50. Also, the film stars Michael Elphick as a Cumbrian poacher – that’s Michael Elphick who starred in Boon, largely filmed in Beeston.
THIS IS ENGLAND / DEAD MAN’S SHOES / ETC:
TINKER TAILOR SOLDIER SPY:
Beeston hasn’t directly featured in any of Shane Meadow’s major films (though a chunk of TIE was filmed in Bramcote), but the director has made this place his home and regularly turns up at local events. Vicky McClure, who has gone stratospheric is also a local lass, living close to the terminus the tram named after her frequently pulls up at. Rumours that This Is Beeston, an epic feature about the adventures of the staff on a local magazine, are not yet founded.
This supremely tense and talent-stuffed film version of John Le Carré’s novel is a must see, and as well as starring This Is England’s Stephen Graham, was also released in a limited edition reprint of the novel designed by
PORRIDGE: The Movie: Sitcoms that aspire to movie form are always crap. The recent, turgid attempt to put Dad’s Army on the big screen is the latest example in a long line of rubbish. On The Buses. Are You Being Served? The Inbetweeners. Admittedly the first two were crap anyway, but rather than even attempt to polish the proverbial turd, the films just added more turd. Porridge: The Movie is a very rare example of excellence, a film that instead of throwing a ton of gimmicks into the mix, actually has an engrossing story. It’s grittier than the series, and has the ironic device of prisoners trying to break in to jail underpinning it. Ronnie Barker and Beeston’s Richard Beckinsale shine, their chemistry fizzing. Sadly, Beckinsale’s film career was thwarted by a fatal heart attack that killed him suddenly aged just 31, a fortnight after filming was completed. However, the name lives on….
UNDERWORLD: Kate Beckinsale is of course a brilliant actor in her own right and the Underworld series proves it. She’s had an astonishingly successful career, but took time out from filming a few years back to visit Beeston and unveil a blue plaque in memorial of her father. She also bought along her friend David Walliams, the father of her child and top-notch thespian Michael Sheen, and her then husband, the Hollywood producer Len Wiseman. That’s Len Wiseman, not Len Goodman. If a certain former editor of this magazine actually got the two mixed up when he met him, then we’re not going to talk about that here.
RUSH HOUR / TROPIC THUNDER / SMALL SOLDIERS/ LOADS MORE: All used the ultimate protest anthem “WAR” by Edwin Starr, a resident of Chilwell until his death in 2003.
LORD OF THE RINGS: Yeah, it was filmed down the Weir Field, wannit? No we’re joking, but we do have a connection: the film’s star, diddy Elijah Wood, released a single with Beeston band The Sound Carriers a few years back, the psychedelic “This is Normal”. It’s rather long, but unlike those films with the little lads running round on hairy feet, quite superb.
WITHNAIL AND I: Every person whose life has ever lurched towards the dissolute is a fan of this staggeringly funny period
Beeston s t r i p e specialist Sir Paul Smith. Also, Barry Foster, aka TV’s Van Der Valk, was in an earlier film about the spy unit in 1982’s Smiley’s People.
BEESTONIA: Come on, did you really think we weren’t going to mention this underrated gem? Written by Lord Beestonia and his faithful whip Christian, masterfully directed by Melvyn Rawlinson, and starring Beeston’s answer to Jonathan Meades, Jamie Claydon. It took us a year to make. That’s twelve months of; dragging around camera equipment; chasing sunlight like we had vitamin D deficiency; fighting with the public, carpark security guards, and ducks (we’re still not sure which was worse); smacking our heads against an editing suite; and of course having tons of fun as well! The sequel is coming. No amount of family, paid work, or global annihilation (Trump?!) will stop us. 3-5 years tops! MT
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ast issue we took it upon ourselves in the name of cutting edge, hard-working journalism, to survey all Beeston’s pubs by drinking in them all. Tough work, but we were up for it. Surprisingly, when the job of doing this Herculean task was put out, virtually every one of our volunteered. This doesn’t happen when you want someone to write about the Toton Sewage Reclamation Works. We gave ourselves 9 hours, stuck to halves, and still couldn’t get round. You simply can’t do them all in one night. That is a pretty glorious thing. Yet we are professional and thorough. We also like pubs. So this issue we decided to do the ones we never got round to…. THE CHEQUERS: The Chequers was given a good fettling a while back, and is now a smart looking pub with decent ale, strangely all Scottish. The football (Wales vs Slovakia) is on, and the place is full of temporary Celts cheering on Bale and co. It’s a great place for a warm summer pint. Its new terrace is a fine suntrap and you can also smell the gorgeousness of Gill’s chippy next door. GOOD FOR: the tram (stop nearby); Scottish beer fans; Welsh football fans. BEST QUOTE: “You can smell Gill’s from here” “You can smell girls?” THE HOP POLE: I swear this happened. As we walk in, Duelling Banjos, the redneck National Anthem, comes on the stereo. Jimmy Wiggins, our sometimes music writer and Hop Pole bar stalwart, finds this incredibly amusing. The Hop Pole is a long term favourite of The Beestonian for so many reasons; Karen the hugely
respected landlady; Harvey the taciturn ginger pub cat; The music (live bands each week, plus a music festival and an annual song writing competition). We ask Wiggins why it’s his favourite pub: “It’s the only pub in the world where you can walk in for a pint and get given a car”. That doesn’t happen to us, but it has that element of chaos that the best pubs have. Hurray for the Hop! GOOD FOR: music, fans of pubs, decent ale, worryingly odd regulars. BEST QUOTE: “Ainsley Harriot always struck me as a bit of a groper”. THE BAR: As its name suggests, The Bar is a bar. Not a pub. Chrome, open, airy. The barman juggles with glasses and pours us a beer. An England match is about to kick off, so the place is rammed and loud. We find a comfy leather sofa on which to sip our ale, overseen by a huge painting of Brian Clough. This used to a bit of an intimidating place, a suburban Yates, but tonight it’s a good place to be as the excitement of the football builds. However, we have to move on. GOOD FOR: football; fans of Brian Golbey, country music legend who bafflingly chooses here as his local.
T he C on clu s ion... BEST QUOTE: “The Wurzels never struck me as the people who you’d like to have in charge of the UK’s food production”. THE COMMERCIAL: Last issue The Commercial was closed with pessimistic predictions being made regarding its future. The general consensus was that a once great, long struggling pub would finally bow out and become a restaurant much like the Durham Ox. It recently reopened, so this is our first nosey round. As we walk in, the place has that saliva-triggering scent of Indian food; aromas of frying garlic, sweet coriander and rich cumin. Yes, it is a restaurant, but also a pub and it works really well. The place is organised well to offer the best of both worlds. Soon we can’t help but order and helpings of high quality, good value curry come rolling onto the table. This beats the usual pub fare by miles. Tucking into the most delicious garlic naan I’ve ever had makes the thought of ever having a Wetherspoons burger again completely disappear. Pub? Restaurant? Who cares. Beeston has a new gem in its pub treasure chest. GOOD FOR: Food. Utterly wonderful food. Service: we get double helpings of those postfood warm wet napkins to clean down our mucky chops.
BEST QUOTE: “I don’t do poppadoms. They’re like elephant scabs to me”. THE CRICKETERS: Our last pub, our final hurdle, our stagger – literally – to the finish line. The Cricketers always seems like the last of the rough Beeston pubs, since the demise of The Prince of Wales and The Royal Oak. But it’s actually alright, good value beer, lively atmosphere (the England match is now in full swing, with England a goal up). Our table is a bit shaky and we’re lucky to catch our drinks before they spill on the tartan carpet, but y’know, horses for courses. The football finishes, stupidly loud music kicks in, and we finish our drinks. And with them the Great Beeston Pub Survey. GOOD FOR: Pool, proximity to Sainsbury’s, sport, hearing loss. BEST QUOTE: Not a quote, but an anecdote involving one of our writers and a famous comedy sidekick. See the back page for more…. CONCLUSION: We’ve got a fine set of pubs. So fine, we’re now existing on a diet composed solely of Lucozade and Rennies. LB, WITH ADDITIONAL MATERIAL FROM ROOPAM, JOHN AND DARREN. MT
The Miracle Man
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couple of months ago, Beeston Film Club had a special screening of ‘I Believe in Miracles’, a superb documentary about the astounding success of the Forest side of the late 70s/early 80s. Taking place in the upstairs room of The White Lion, a great night was had by all.
The film is very accessible to fans of Forest and those of other clubs (and even people not that into footy), mixing archive footage of games and interviews, together with plenty of commentary of the stars of that time. An added bonus at the showing was the presence of one of the key men, striker Garry Birtles. He very generously gave up his time after a long trip down from covering a match at Sunderland (he now works as a pundit/co-commentator for Sky), in order to come. Garry is a local lad, having lived in the Long Eaton and Chilwell areas for the majority of his life. Forest signed him from lowly Long Eaton United as a young man (you just have to say ‘young man’ in a Cloughie voice!), and after a few years he’d won a bagful of medals, including two European Cups. He was also capped by England on three occasions. I am slightly too young to remember Garry in his pomp as part of that amazing Forest side at the time. I was also brought up elsewhere in the country supporting a different team. They happen to be the side where Cloughie cut his managerial teeth though, so I like to think that without the gritty experience of managing Hartlepool United, he never would have enjoyed the success he did. Therefore, I Believe in Miracles filled in a lot of gaps in my knowledge about the astonishing rise of a middling, unfashionable second tier side who went on to become the best side in Europe within a couple of years.
The Beestonian is...
Lead Writer/Founder • Lord Beestonia Co-Founder/Resident Don • Prof J Editor • Christian Design • Dan Business Manager • Mel History Editor • Joe Earp
After the film finished, the Q&A began. Garry was an absolute star, pulling no punches with the answers to a variety of questions. I managed to rile him unintentionally by asking how he would compare the exploits of Leicester City to what Forest achieved. He quite rightly pointed out that people in the media now tend to have fairly short memories, and that football definitely existed before the birth of the Premier League in the early 1990s. Perhaps if Leicester win the European Champions League next year they can see if they measure up. Perhaps the funniest moment of the night came when a member of the audience didn’t ask a question, but instead issued an apology. Ace local carpenter Peter Urbacz confessed to being the little scrote who used to ride his skateboard down Garry’s drive at various antisocial times! I asked Peter about this afterwards, and he explained in full. “In my teenage mind, Blenheim Drive in Chilwell was like one of those wide Californian streets. Banked concrete driveways with a channel of steps steep enough to skate and a perfect obstacle to do a backside kick flip… I would skate down there and do a Front side Ollie over his channel of steps. The trend then was to have hard small wheels, so it would have been proper loud. I often thought that I might have affected his game, but now I realise that I maybe just ruined his marriage and made
him sell his house.” I managed to catch up with Garry whilst he was covering the Euros in France. Over the phone I hasten to add. I did fancy a trip over there to see him in person, but it would have been a bit dearer than the cost of a day ticket on the tram and a couple of pints. He very kindly spared some of his time during a hectic schedule, chatting about the success and popularity of the film, what a great time he had as a player, and how there is no comparison to be made between NG9 and France. Also how badly run Forest are at present, in sharp contrast to his time there, when Clough and Peter Taylor were thoroughly trusted to do what they thought best. He also talked about his time at Manchester United, when he wasn’t able to buy a house in the North West because he couldn’t sell his home in Long Eaton. This really struck me as indicative of the vast wealth players of today enjoy. When explaining to my wife who Garry is and what he achieved, it made me think of what he would have been worth today. A bang average Premiership player these days is more or less guaranteed to be a millionaire if they have a career in the top flight lasting 5 or so years. The monetary rewards are now astonishing for those winning a sackful of trophies and playing for England. Garry lived in a modest house, drank in his local - ‘The Cadland used to be a truly great pub’ - and is still an incredibly down-toearth and approachable bloke. I for one am really glad that the film has shone a spotlight on the achievements of Garry and the rest of that Forest side, and together with the success of Leicester City, proves that the beautiful game doesn’t have to be all about the biggest clubs with the most money. JC
Top-notch contributors this issue: Christopher D Frost, Lulu Davenport, Jade Moore, Colin Tucker, Scott Bennett, Tim Pollard, Daisy Leverington, Ric Salinger, Matt Turpin, Christian Fox, John ‘Poolie’ Cooper, Alan Dance and Deman. Printed by Pixels & Graphics, Beeston
Stockists: Rye, The Hop Pole, The Crown, The White Lion, The Star, The Greyhound, Flying Goose, Mish Mash Gallery, The Malt Shovel, The Guitar Spot, Broadgate Laundrette, Bubba Tea, The Bean, Beeston Library, Cafe ROYA, Newsagent on Chilwell Road, Metro, Beeston Marina Bar and Cafe, Attenborough Nature Reserve, Pottle of Blues, Greenhood, Beeston Nursery, Oxfam Books, L’Oliva.
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used in previous films and I’ve love film and films – ...Nottingham travelled over there a couple of although not, it should be times to visit both the vehicles and and Beeston said, many of the Robin my American friends – it’s great have a great Hood films out there. Most fun to sit inside amongst other cinematic vehicles the huge red Mustang from are sadly a bit bland and history. Diamonds Are Forever, the Aston uninspiring and the only one Martin from The Living Daylights or I find infinitely rewatchable is some of the boats from Live and Let Die. the classic 1938 Errol Flynn version In fact speaking of premieres it was via this group (the one with the green tights, ‘Robin that Sal and I got to attend the Royal Premiere of Hood hat’ and a real sense of cinema Skyfall at the Royal Albert Hall in London, where and adventure, rather than any ‘dark, we were actually on the red carpet alongside Daniel Craig, which really was astoundingly fun. gritty reimaging’ – I’m looking at you, Russell Crowe). One of the friends I met in the US (some of whom
Nottingham was lucky enough to have a shared premiere of Ridley Scott’s Robin Hood, jointly shared with Nottingham and the Cannes film Festival, although who knows why Russell Crowe and Cate Blanchett decided to go to the sunny south of France rather than the Cornerhouse in Nottingham? Sal and I got to go to the Nottingham premiere in their place though, which was actually more fun than the film itself. As noted elsewhere in this issue, Nottingham and Beeston have a great cinematic history and it’s something we can all be proud of – whilst we wait to see if we’re going to get a ‘proper’ cinema in the vast wasteland next to the tram station we have several independent cinema clubs, not least those run by our previous editor Matt at the White Lion and Café Roya. Matt was also a driving force behind Beestonia: The Movie which was a fabulous celebration of all things local and I even got to have a cameo in it, which was great fun. In fact over the past few years I’ve done quite a bit of filming, mainly promotional videos for Nottingham in my guise as Robin but also, strangely enough, for a couple of ‘proper’ films... Being a bloke of a certain age I love James Bond films (well, most of them anyway, I could live without Never Say Never Again and A View To A Kill and for my money On Her Majesty’s Secret Service and Casino Royale are the best). Anyway, via an internet Bond fan group I became friends with a group in Chicago in the US who buy, restore and look after loads of the vehicles
are now such good friends they’re travelling over for Sal and my wedding later this year) is a film-maker specialising in low-budget horror films. He thought it would be fun to have an English actor ‘introduce’ the films and so he asked me to create a character named ‘Lord Victor Fleming’, supposedly a ‘master of the macabre and historian of the occult’. This meant I had to smarten myself up, put on my DJ and try to generate some gravitas as I intoned dire warnings about the terrible story and horrific scenes contained in the film. With Sal as my camerawoman we decorated our front room to look like an Edwardian-period drawing room and set to filming. We even did some location shooting at Wollaton Hall, carefully cutting scenes to look like the interior scenes we’d shot were actually done inside the Hall. So you can say both Batman and Robin have now filmed there! So if you ever get the chance to watch the masterful cinematic classics that are James Baack’s Dracula’s Orgy of the Damned or the equally terrifying (for any number of reasons) sequel Werewolf Massacre at Hell’s Gate (both available on DVD from Amazon US) then you’ll know that at least part of them were shot in our own home town of Beeston – which makes it even weirder than a number of online reviewers commented on my ‘phony English accent’. It seems that as with Robin Hood films, there’s just no pleasing some people… Tim Pollard Nottingham’s Official Robin Hood
MOVIEGRAM FANCY YOURSELF SOMETHING OF A MOVIE BUFF? SEE IF YOU CAN UNSCRAMBLE THESE FAMOUS MOVIE TITLES FROM NEAR AND FAR!
1. A Thudded Eminent 2. Veneer Fusty Town 3. Drivelled Noun Our Two 4. Local Rattle 5. Machetes Wot 6. Battled Healthy 7. Dog Riper 8. A Mayfly White 9. A Thunder Strength Kirk 10. Casing Aim ANSWERS: The Damned United/Twenty Four Seven/Underworld: Evolution/Total Recall/The Cat’s Meow/That’ll Be The Day/Porridge/ The Family Way/The Dark Knight Returns/Magicians
CODEWORD
‘No Parking’
Location: Vernon Avenue, just off Wollaton Road, Beeston Pen & Ink by Dan Cullen
FOOD! Empty coffee cups in films and television. One of my biggest peeves, and I get peeved fairly often. I love films, I work in an independent cinema, I’ve been in a few, and nothing gets me more hacked off than an actor carrying an obviously empty paper cup. I loved the US remake of The Killing, but the rage that bubbles in my black heart when I see such fine actors as Mireille Enos and Joel Kinneman forced to mime a sip of coffee makes me want to do my very own killing. We covered eating and drinking in the first year of drama school, even the kids in Jurassic Park nailed it with a table full of desserts and a kitchen full of velociraptors. It’s not rocket science is it, filling a cup with enough water to weight it down? If the actor can’t cope with a little sip of water now and again, then it’s perhaps time to de-Hollywood their diets. I’m not advocating getting through an entire
roast for each take of a scene, but surely a small mouthful of food or a small sip of water isn’t going to kill anyone. Perhaps the director is of the mind that if we are watching the liquid level in the cup then the show isn’t exciting enough, but if you’re chucking millions of pounds at sets then throw a couple of quid towards edible props. Leonardo DiCaprio ate a bison’s heart in The Revenent and he’s a vegetarian! This is an extreme (but fairly badass) example, and one which begs the question as to why several
people around a dinner table can’t eat a single morsel of food. Brad Pitt got through roughly 10,000 calories in Se7en, so let’s see the cast of Doctors tucking into a Greggs pasty once in a while in between shifts. Perhaps this could be a sponsorship opportunity worth of Simon Cowell and his everlasting Pepsi on America’s Got Talent. Let’s have the cast of X-Men heartily slurping a grande soy macchiato before looking down the camera lens with a cheeky wink, before flying off to save the world. Or maybe Finding Dory could feature her snacking on an ice-cream cone dropped by a hapless beach-goer, who delivers a killer line to camera about the damage to the earth’s coral reefs. Just a thought. However they do it, let’s just do it. Let’s all chip in and make sure our beloved actors never have to revisit day 1 of GSCE drama and mime a plateful of food and cup of tea. A quid each should do it. Let’s get a family sized hamper of tea bags delivered to LA and get our screens (and their cups) full of decent English Breakfast, instead of the void in my heart where a lovely brew should be. DL
I
t cannot have escaped anyone’s notice that the biggest rock festival the Midlands has to offer descended yet again upon the area. Being of a musical persuasion the headlining acts of Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden and the fire obsessed Rammstein lured me to that watery, mud infested outing which lasted five days.
Parting with enough cash to make any self respecting adult cry, I exchanged monies, freedom and civilisation to experience my fourth year in a row on the sacred Donnington ground. By now most people may have seen the images of tents streaming with mud free flowing like a chocolaty tidal wave taking out temporary nylon abodes. The sheer volume of chaos Mother Nature inflicted was enough to conjure memories of
warm beautiful pubs back over in Beestonian land where ciders and ales were served in glass, real glass not plastic beakers barely filled and more costly. Amidst a
highly unsociable hour of 11am leaving time to queue ( yey again!) for a quick breakfast stop before making the half an hour journey to the arena from the campsite,
Drownload crowd full of rockers I had a true cheers moment, I missed my local, its characters, its cider and mostly its warm friendly atmosphere and unsoggy seating. Manning up I waded through a sticky sea of sludge to the main stage determined my festival holiday wouldn’t be deterred by the weather. music begun at the
In fact no one quite tells you that Download is mostly about queuing and walking. Californian rockers Alien Ant Farm tie up a nice little link to the theme of this issue, as the band performed the 2001 track ‘Movies’, the video was a mash up of Ghostbusters, karate kid and Edward Scissor hands parodies.
Tedious link number two goes to Juliette Lewis and the Licks, Juliette being a Hollywood legend having graced the screen for From Dusk Till Dawn and Natural Born Killers performing an absolute kick ass set. Darting round the stage with enough energy to upset a Duracell bunny 42 year old Juliette didn’t slow down and looked amazing in a jumpsuit while she did so, some women have all the luck.... So were the cash, mud, rain, sunstroke and chaos worth it? To see these rock heavy hitters a short bus journey away, definitely. However creature comforts have taken over and munching on a cheese board at The Crown or catching a random band over at the Greyhound is, without a doubt, less stressful and soul destroying. I shall be back next issue to seeking out Beeston’s finest random acts and bands, dry and slightly less grumpy! LD
Keep It Live: OXJAM T
here was a flying start for this year’s Oxjam in an utterly packed White Lion for the Launch and Music Quiz on June 8th.
There were ninety people plus spectators in nearly 20 teams, including the 30 members and supporters of the Nottingham University OXFAM society. They answered (or tried to answer!) questions ranging from what “what was the name of both a lute-playing contemporary of Shakespeare and a legendary blues singer?” to “who had the first billion times viewed Youtube video?” It’s Robert Johnson and Psy respectively, since you ask. In fact the scoring was pretty high despite the occasional furrowed brow and sigh of despair, and the winning team managed 42 out of 50. They promptly donated their cash prize to Sergio’s “Calais” fund (which was nice). So a decent fund-raiser – and a great curtain raiser – for a festival that culminates in The Takeover on October 15th. Next up is Oxjam Unplugged on Saturday July 2nd. The venue is Middle Street Resource Centre, which you might think is somewhat unlikely, but it’s actually a lovely setting for the small scale event, catering for about 80 people seated cabaret style. There’ll be a licensed bar plus soft drinks, coffee and snacks. Plus it’s only a 5 minute walk from the Interchange or buses (Indigo, 36, Y36) and the tram stop.
On the bill is folk punker Paul Carbuncle who was a great hit at last year’s Takeover where he played3 sets in as many venues. Unfortunately Paul is otherwise engaged on October 15th so this will be his only Oxjam appearance this year. Also performing will be local favourite and Oxjam totem Emma Bladon-Jones – such a fabulous singer-songwriter, as if you didn’t know! We’ll also be introducing two young singer-songwriters, Matt Humphries and Andrew Tucker (who is lead singer and songwriter for Ivoryserfs). Listen out for their unusual covers. Finally, completing the line-up is Dave Mooney, who combines his own songs about his travels in the east with covers from the skiffle and tea dance eras. He may (or may not) appear with Nancy, a puppet he employs when working as a street performer, so keep your eyes peeled. Tickets are £6 from Oxfam Books & Music, The Middle Street Resource Centre, or on-line at www.wegottickets.com/event/363566 (+ 10% booking fee). Hurry while stocks last! CT
Gossip from the
HIVE MIND +++ A sad start to this issues snippets, with news that local legend ‘Speedy’ had died. While loads of people knew him, at the time of going to press we don’t have a great deal of info about his life, other than he was a genuinely lovely man, a long term fixture in and around Beeston as he walked between his allotments. Here, he was in his element, an expert in growing anything and everything. An effortlessly polite, charming and immaculately coiffured gentleman, if anyone knew him well then we’d really like to run a piece on him, as a tribute. Let us know if you can provide +++ +++ In Vino Veritas! Much fun was had as we completed the Beestonian pub crawl / survey recently -see inside for more details. Our favourite discovery was finding out that our columnist Roopam was once on Blockbusters, where she beat a gawky Bristolian and went on to scoop THREE Gold Runs. Her lanky opponent? Stephen Merchant, he of The Office and Extras fame. Yeah, you won a load of BAFTAS, Merchant, but you never got to write for this magazine, so bah to you +++ +++ If Stephen Merchant WOULD like to write for this magazine, please get in touch +++ +++ Also on the survey, we rhapsodised on the resurrection of The Commercial. With smashing food, great ale and service so thorough our beer seemed to arrive before it was ordered, you’d think our party of reviewers would be a happy bunch. But no. One of our team had a mard at the menu containing a smattering of spelling errors and refused to join us in stuffing curry into
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our faces. As punishment, the unnamed reviewer will have his name misspelt somewhere in this issue +++ +++ Actually, Darren Kirkebride, I can’t find a good place to do this to you so ignore that threat. Ta. +++ +++ Are we getting a new MP? Just a year on from Anna Soubry’s re-election, and she’s in a spot of bother as Notts Police investigate her election expense claims after Channel 4 News found that there might have been a bit of diddling with the figures. Of course, if they are found to be dodgy, she could simply pass the buck to her agent. Who just happens to be, as far as we can tell, Councillor Richard Jackson. Y’know, the head of Broxtowe Borough Council. Ready those polling booths! +++ +++ Cheers for all those who have attended a run of film-based fund-raisers The Beestonian has been involved with lately: in association with Nottingham Alternative Film Network we raised several hundred pounds for a family in Yemen stricken by the bloody, interminable civil war there; over £400 was made and donated straight to The Teenage Cancer Trust when we had Forest legend Garry Birtles introduce a special showing of the sublime football documentary “I Believe in Miracles”; and Shane Meadows’ generous appearance at Middle Street Resource Centre for a charity showing of some of his early and unseen work, followed by a Q+A from our former editor (see inside for a report) raised a nifty chunk to keep one of our greatest local, erm, resources thriving. Beeston: you’re a generous bunch. +++
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