Shomin Geki

Yeah, I can see all this. I'm pretty ambivalent about Shane Meadows in general. I liked his first run of features, pretty much up to this point, but have wondered if he has much more to say as he's not seemed to have developed like I feel he should have done (not seen the This Is England TV series). Dead Man's Shoes could have been a turning point, a mix of his distinctive regional spark and social realist empathy with the greater impact afforded through more explicit 'genre' characteristics. But it's one of those films that I recall being impressed by, possessing a depth of appreciation for all the miserable souls in this crap tragedy, that I really should revisit sometime. I wonder about he Kebbell performance too, with the caveat that greater 'sensitivity' in portrayals of anyone with any disability does not automatically equal a treatment of greater depth. And as for the notion of an elevated Nick Love film, well, Muscle, with Craig Fairbrass, who is excellent, is very much that! And not in a bad way! If you can accpet Gerard Johnson's somewhat nihilistic abrupt endings its a memorable wade into the slurry of modern, addled, masculinity.

Perhaps one for the punditry thread, but... anyone else see Stephen Warnock on Match of the Day the other night? Looking about thirteen and sporting natty Clark Kent glasses. I don't think I've seen him do any punditry before but was surprised by how articulate, thorough and insightful he was! So much so that I spent the first four or five minutes thinking, 'that IS Stephen Warnock, right?' It seems the new rising ex-player punditry class are learning to do their homework and realising they have to be proper smarties. A good sign!

This is an excellent point. An astute reminder that whilst we focus incessantly on 'the rules' as they pertain to violations and misconduct we can often overlook that their real value lies in optimising and incentivising the game played to its fullest.

Demarai Gray is an interesting one! In the 25 man squad but hasn't even made the Leicester bench this season, potentially on account of his likely transfer (out of contract this summer). Apparently Everton and Tottenham are interested in one of those 'cut-price deals'. Aside from surprise at how little he has featured for Leicester I can't say I could tell you much about the fella. But was definitely feted pretty recently. Any insights?

Yeah, really like the Leeds team! I suspect my enthusiasm isn't too different from the gushing praise they get from the pundit class: The game now, for better or worse, is so densely tactical that matches can seem won through precise formations, game plans, tactical discipline and so on, and Leeds' gung-ho ballbattle is a pleasing reminder of the unruly, random joy of 22 players going sweatily toe to toe, as it were. Leeds, to somewhat overdo the fighting parallels, are a wild streetfighter amidst a platoon of Klitschkos. They're gonna at least bring some fireworks, probably end up punch drunk, but it'll be fun. As for Leeds the place and the people, well, I once exited Leeds train station to an immediate vicious bottling and my stay didn't get considerably jollier after that...

Just seen on Match of the Day that West Brom had an XG of 0.05! Surely one of the lowest ever.

The continuing, and confounding, mysteries of blurryland! Has there been a precise nailing down of how accurate and 'scientific' these lines actually are? Like, what are their properties? Or is it just instructional MS Paint scrawls? I mean, those seemingly different sized vertical dots don't interfere with the measurements right? Right?

Marks out of ten in another Villa XG splatterfest! Martinez 7- Like having your dad in goal. On a calm day. The kind of rock that can shrug off the sort of handling-outside-the-box malarkey that Michael Oakes is probably growling at somewhere right now. Mings 7- Typical highly competent quarterbacking in a game he could have played sleepwalking. Silly yellow highlights the sloppy discipline our players too frequently display. Hause 8- Hause eats these guys up for dinner every meal he sits. And comes back for seconds. Cash 7- Endless energy is always an asset. Always present. Always lively. Would expect to see more decisive final third work from a former midfielder. Targett 8- Keen link up work with Grealish. A constant and consistent stretcher of the play. Could work on the final ball, but he's there, dependably, much of the time. Luiz 9- Classy, composed, highly intelligent. Seemed to barely break a sweat such are his smarts. And that's with some lung-busting covering. Controlled the game. McGinn 7- Robust fortitude from our thick set Duracell Rhino. Quite sweaty. Lungs thumping. Traore 9- Outstanding! Was wavering between 'cult hero' status and 'boy, there's a player in there' throughout the game, but clinched it with the sweet finish. Smooth Jazz snooker. Constantly made things happen, committed, giddy feet, and only the slightest chance of looking ridiculous whenever he's on the ball. Grealish 8- Average Grealish is still our humming heartbeat. Good to see a real drive until the final whistle. El Ghazi 8- Embodied how an all round greater confidence in our players elevates the fluidity and conviction of our game. He may not be the swashbuckler he promises to be, but he's a proficient swordsman with the occasional telling strike. Happy for him. Watkins 6- Unfairly seen as anonymous by some, Watkins persistently does the little 'False 9' things well. But sometimes this can seem all he does, his careful, occasionally twinkling feet never quite seeming like they're putting in the shift they could.

Please elaborate!

Daria Nicolodi, 70. A bit of a niche one here, but I trust among the classy aesthetes of Villa Talk her name won't be entirely unrecognised. Former partner of Italian horror maestro Dario Argento, co-writer of Suspiria, and mother of metoo heel-turner Asia Argento. It was noted, with some accuracy, that Nicolodi was killed off in an increasingly grisly and elaborate fashion in Inferno, Phenomena, Opera etc. But she's still immortalised amidst dazzling colour and architecture in Argento's finest.

I think it's been a pretty miserable year for cinema, largely devoid of bite, provocation, ambition and wit. However... I did like: The Whistlers- An excellent and eccentric Romanian neo-noir, which was alternatively knotty and curiously heartfelt. The kind of film that reminds you, quite vividly, of what a big, strange, beautiful world we lived in. One driven, in many ways, by strong emotions barely expressed. Which ties in perfectly with the bizarre code language of the film's title. Bacurau- A little sketchier and rougher than his masterful Aquarius and Neighbouring Sounds, but nonetheless a feverishly aggressive work from Filho Mendonca. A perhaps necessary response to the social and cultural privations of the Bolsonaro administration. I would have liked a little more pulpy, punky flair, but there's a simmering, intoxicating fire to this film. Vivarium- Strange, and strangely apropos viewing for the lockdown world, I understand the abstraction and archness has put many people off, but I think it's mixture of petit bourgeois nightmare and oblique comedy of manners is the perfect interrogation of our present conditions of barely-grasped madness roiling under the surface of compliant civility. Imogen Poots is quick becoming very underrated and is typically excellent here. A White, White Day- Deliberate Icelandic psychodrama of a middle aged man's unravelling psyche. No, come back! It's actually incredibly gripping, psychologically astute, and if perhaps the subject matter IS a touch overfamiliar, the odd notes of quiet grace and very dry comedy elevate it from its peers. Also shot beautifully on film. Also: Ends, rather charmingly, with a Leonard Cohen song. Not that kind of Leonard Cohen song. Those other ones. And that's where I think I'll have to bow out, although I thought The Beach House did a surprising amount with a negligible budget. Would go to bat for Underwater too, the Kristen Stewart creature feature. Possibly the most unexpectedly pleasing cameo this year!

This from The Guardian MBM pretty much sums things up.

This is Shithouse Central. The Fountain of Eternal Shithousery. I'm at a loose end so I thought I would give this a watch. Learn a little about two sides that I know very little about. And what do I get? Blind eunuchs at any orgy, flesh bumping against flesh, pointlessly, joylessly, interminably. If the everlasting soul of Diego Maradona dragged this game down to Hell for sins against football I doubt Bruce and Hodgson could protest. He should do it. For all of us.

Absolutely. I have to say I have seen a lot less of Joyce than Dubois. What trouble does Joyce present?

The Van Damme of the North East, Lionel Perez, with his sexy hair and even sexier leg saves. I think Martinez's outside the penalty area save from Maupay yesterday, and my general belief that keepers that are 'good with their feet' could be so more robustly and tenaciously, must have triggered foolishly fond memories.

Perhaps this is somewhat off topic but the subject of Engel's curious injury habits got me thinking. How detailed would the precise medical care and appreciation of a player's physiology be for Aston Villa? Could this be studied before a player is purchased? I'm guessing a player's development would intersect quite heavily with a thorough medical analysis, but how thorough is that? For example, my physio's identification of tight hamstrings and underdeveloped knee caps has helped me adapt my running and training style considerably with far less risk of injury. Do players get similarly tailored advice? Are there any examples, apart from extreme cases like Mario Gotze (which isn't really what I'm talking about anyway), wherein some less evident physical anomaly has forced a player to make major changes in their approach to the game?

The boy has the energy of a pup on Red Bull! Energy that is as infectious as it is merciless. Like a right back Vardy. Cash is everywhere. Incessant, demanding, indefatigable. I really like him. There's also a sense of responsibility and discipline about him too though. Your average sheep-herding all action Action man can get a bit carried away with yapping at the heels of his foes. Crazy handball aside, he seems a sensible lad who knows not to get too carried away his considerable motor. And I think he can definitely go up a gear or two. I feel as we get better, or hopefully as we stay comfortable with how good we can be, Cash will get better too.

Doesn't it just! I wonder if there is a touch of the Wenger about him, this desire for his troops to perfectly aestheticise his untouchably perfect 'vision' of football? Even if the tides appear to be turning somewhat. I wonder if deep down he finds all this speed metal sturm und drang Klopp hyperfootball to be a bit vulgar, a bit gauche, and he's waiting patiently in the wings for things to calm down. And then his elven army can swoop majestically to save us all over again. Or, I don't know, middle age can be a bitch. But. certainly, Pep's Man City have a bit of a Last Year's Model quality. Will be intriguing to see how Pep responds to no longer being best in show. Does he stick or twist? Can he fight dirty in dirtier times or can his origami football somehow regain its edge?

It's almost distressing how quickly Arsenal have become a nothing club. The eternal pondering of how to bring some bite into midfield post-Vieira blurs into the search for a commanding centre back which morphs into the Ozil Question, until suddenly it's ten years later and they're still in a 'transitional phase'. Seemingly picked at with the self-conscious exactitude of a lab scientist not wishing to disturb the precious contents of his petri dish, there's such a lifelessness and joylessness about the whole Arsenal project right now. Where precious tinkering and ham-fisted declaration go to smoosh everything into a thin, grey, unpalatable paste. It almost feels like the outrages of the elite of English football, be it the gluttony of the 'Big Six', and their flirty eyeing of continental empire, or the despot owners, don't really matter as much when it comes to Arsenal. Because they just don't feel relevant anymore. Not that their transgressions are any less unpleasant. The club seems on a semi-permanent gap year. Just six more months and we'll find ourselves... Tony Luna's rapturous and ludicrous nail in the coffin left-footer feeling in any way significant belongs to a time many, many moons ago. That a club that used to be a byword for a certain kind of elegant, progressive, artful football have fallen into a rut of existential pointlessness is a wee bit depressing.

Whilst acknowledging that this may sound pompous or insensitive, this tragedy is becoming a huge piece of grim literature warning us of so much that is shameful about this country. It's like a goddamn Hogarth of modern elite indifference and venality. The popular government mantra of 'lessons to be learned' couldn't be more starkly urgent when it comes to Grenfell. And yet the lessons keep coming... I was living not too far from Grenfell when it burned. It still haunts me.

Yeah, largely agree. Kane can obviously appreciate another player that shares his vision and intelligence. I would imagine Kane can see himself not having to playmake from so deep with Grealish. I imagine the boy is excited at the possibilities.

Kane talking about how much he likes playing with Grealish. I'd be demanding he plays if I were him. Two highly intelligent players.

Jack aside this performance is very Stewart Downing.

Anyone else dying to know if England get their own slice of popular 90s dance if they score? If we conjure up a nifty passing move they can do ''I like to move it, move it''. Bobby Brown's ''Two Can Play That Game'' can be blasted when that mythical Grealish Mount team-up happens. I vote for Renegade Master or Ebeneezer Goode. EMF's Unbelievable for the stunning comeback winner. Although that is stretching the dance remit. We shall have to see.

Messaged you.