It’s a Friday! And you know what that means – it’s time to punish your liver for being such a bastard. If you don’t have solid evidence that your liver is a bastard, just take a leaf out of the Met’s book and assume that it is because at least one other liver somewhere, sometime, was. What about those goose livers, eh? Fat, lazy bumders. We hate livers almost as much as the police hate students! And there’s only one way to bring together those two very disparate loathings – a drinking game.
Ricardo Darín and Soledad Villamil star in a labyrinthine homicide thriller which twists, turns and generally contorts itself through the corrupt underbelly of 70s Argentine law enforcement. It doesn’t sound great, does it? Well, it bloody is great. So there.
We love you, independent cinemas, we dooo! In a bit to combat the Big Four’s relentless stranglehold over British cinema we like to highlight our favourite indie venues, and this week we’re lavishing our insistent and faintly suffocating love all over the matchless Tricycle Theatre in Kilburn, a Mecca for fans of stage and screen alike.
Miranda Kerr could soon have two helpless, drooling little boys to look after.
Bond composer and five time Oscar winner John Barry has died of a heart attack.
Snipe London
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