The Way the Cookie Crumbles

Triple-Choc Cookies, originally uploaded by rhino75.

Tummy troubles, computer problems, sending bits of my phone flying to opposite corners of the room, trapping my hand underneath the sofa, Raphie leaving StarAc' - it's been a miserable few days. So, now I've (fingers crossed) sorted out most of this list (I don't think Raphie's going to change her mind), it's time to pick up my prescription from Dr. Feelgood. First of all, bake Nigella's triple-choc cookies (and fill flat with yummy smell). Second, pour a large Jack and Coke. Third, settle down to a double bill of "Shrek 2" and "Shortbus". I feel better already.

"Rendition"

OK, I confess, I've got a bit of a thing for Reese Witherspoon. I don't even fully understand it myself, in fact I just used to put it down to the fact that we were both irresistibly attracted to Ryan Philippe but no, I'm starting to think it's all about THE WORK. From "Legally Blonde" through "Walk the Line" via "Sweet Home Alabama" has she put a foot wrong? I think not. Her British accent is almost better than mine, as she proved playing that minx Becky Sharp in "Vanity Fair," and she comes across in interviews as a smart woman (when I said I had a thing for her, you didn't think it was this bad, did you? Admit it). So the minute (my italics) I saw the trailer for "Rendition" I was excited: Reese, Jake and Meryl, my personal Holy Trinity, all in one movie? I thought we just HAD Christmas? Honestly, go see it. It's movie that makes you think. Not just about the subject matter (if you don't know what rendition is - and I didn't really before reading about the movie - here's a quick explanation) but also about the dichotomy that is the U.S. By that, I mean the fact that the country that implements a policy like this is also the country that exposes and is shocked by it. And, indeed, the country that makes a major movie about it (ok, the director's South African but the project and, I imagine, most of the money, are American). While the message "torture is wrong and counter-productive" is hammered home pretty hard (thank goodness), the reasoning behind the rendition policy is given a more nuanced treatment (Meryl Streep's wonderful performance - we hate her YET we can see where she's coming from YET we know she's wrong, oooh, oooh, oooh - triffic). What else? A fair chunk of dialogue is in Arabic, which is unusual and nice to hear. That said, the "Romeo-and- Juliet-but-actually-not-at-all" plotline between Khalid and Fatima was given too much time in the final cut, I felt, even though I could see why it was there. And the timeshift "effect" was clever but didn't seem to serve much purpose apart from confusing me. Overall though, the wooly liberal that I am thought it was tops and would heartily recommend it.

P.S. I see that there are now rumors that Jake and Reese are getting married - maybe it IS about our shared taste in men after all....

Cyril in My Kitchen Part II

cyril in a pan, originally uploaded by rhino75.

After last year's failed attempt to get French TV chef Cyril Lignac round to Rhino75 Towers, imagine my surprise and delight, dear reader, when I came across these "celebrity" pans in my local department store. Admittedly, it's not quite the same as having him come round to cook for you, but at least you don't have to tidy up before getting him out of the cupboard. Plus, Kitty can sit on his face while I make dinner. So everyone's happy.

Propping up the Bar

Design contre Design:catbar, originally uploaded by rhino75.

Wandering round the Grand Palais last night, clutching an empty champagne flute and in search of a bar, I came across this beauty. JUST the thing for Rhino75 Towers this Christmas, don'tcha think, dear reader? And Kitty would love it. There was also this rather saucy chair and a bed in the form of a uterus - you don't get many of those in the Ikea catalogue methinks. They're all part of a small exhibition called "Design Contre Design" which I wasn't expecting to see at all but was actually rather fun. I was there, naturally, for the big guns Courbet show. Have you noticed that no sooner do I mention that I love Courbet on this blog than the Grand Palais comes up with this exhibition - it's almost (my italics) spooky. I was familiar with many of the portraits but had never seen his landscapes before - a revelation, particularly the seascapes (check out La Vague) - or the hunting scenes. Such a wide range and yet you could see all the signs, particularly in the landscapes, of the Impressionists to come. Loved it. And I got to stand next to Bernard Tapie. While eating a bite-sized risotto. But I digress. Off to Brighton AGAIN this weekend to help sis celebrate her birthday and watch a bit more X-Factor. Hurrah!!

Etc. Etc. Etc.

Deborah Kerr died yesterday. Probably best-known for rolling in the surf with Burt Lancaster in "From Here to Eternity" (not a bad thing to be remembered for, I grant you), to me, dear reader, she will always be "Mrs. Anna" aka British governess Anna Leonowens in "The King and I," one of Childe Rhino's keynote films. Obviously, I only ever saw it on tv but it made a HUGE impression on me. Was it the oriental setting? At that time, Thailand/Siam was so exotic that not even the Blue Peter team had been there on one of their famous Expeditions. I certainly didn't know anyone who'd been and never dreamed I would ever go there myself. (Although I DID think I would go to the Moon and eventually live there - luckily, I'm not a betting man.) Was it the razor-cheekboned Yul Brynner, all slinky, sexy and powerful, like a panther? It wasn't the annoying children, that's for sure. No, the reason I loved it was the scene when Mrs. Anna (in a HUGE meringue of a dress) and the King (in his best pyjamas) whirl round the empty throne room (is it a polka?) singing "Shall We Dance?." I just found it wonderfully, impossibly romantic. Not (necessarily - my italics) the swirling round the room in a big dress. It was the feeling that, no matter how hard they fought it, no matter how wary they were, or how impossible the situation, it was inevitable they would fall in love. Even Childe Rhino felt there was something beautiful in that. I say "impossible" and, unusually for a musical of its time, it doesn't have a happy ending. Mind you, also unusually for its time, it features an overlong Thai musical version of "Uncle Tom's Cabin." - I think they call it "Very Small House of Uncle Tom." But that ballroom scene, for me, is touched by magic. :::Sigh::: Romantic Rhino - who knew? Next week "Brief Encounter" with Rachmaninov's 2nd Piano Concerto ("Rach' 2" as we musicians call it) - Bring your own tissues and an eclair.

Playing God

WHAT a week it's been, dear reader! First of all, dinner alongside Mia Farrow (that makes her sound like a ship, doesn't it?). Then the rugby - proof, if proof were needed, that sometimes that great English strategy of just "winging it" really is the best option. Grumpy old Chabal, the wild caveman, the supposed (my italics) baby-eater, spent most of his time on the floor, eating the TURF! Pffft. And to cap it all, Ma Rhino was viciously - there is no other adverb - attacked by... errm, a robin, and now has her arm in plaster. As always when emotions are running high, I decided to seek solace in a dark room full of strangers. No, not there - the THEATRE. As luck would have it, my friend Sandrine happens to be playing God at the moment. Literally. The show is called "Si ON n'existait pas" (their caps - for once!). Let me set the scene (ahem, ahem clears throat). ON decides to create a female companion for Adam, her firstborn, mainly to keep him away from the goats. But, unfortunately, Adam and Eve don't fancy each other at all. Enter Lily and .... oh but I'm telling you the plot!!! Go and see it - an original idea, great writing, lots of laughs, and top-notch performances. As a plus, the play also has original music, which you can purchase afterwards. The picture above (by yours truly) is of ON sitting on the bidet, trying to figure out what to do next - if that doesn't speak to us all, I don't know what does. (Click on the photo to see some more of my pics of the show).

I AM the Cheerleader

I KNEW it, I KNEW it, I AM the cheerleader, dear reader. This not only means that I get to sleep with the captain of the football team but also something that we've all suspected for a while - Peter Petrelli really does love me. Oh, and I get to have a sexually ambiguous best friend. This also explains all those nights out that I've completely blanked. Until now, I'd blamed the vodka but NO!! In fact, a mysterious Haitian has been wiping my memory. Could life GET any better? To take this highly scientific (my italics) test, brought to us by Entertainment Weekly, click on the pic. (via Felipe Anuel)

Rhino's Round-up

Here's a little round-up of the things I've learned in the past week. Remember, I'm doing all this so you don't have to. Selfless to a fault. ::sigh::

• Wii Sports is actually MUCH more fun than I realised. When people ask, I shall finally be able to say that I played a little tennis at the weekend - I feel this will be good for my image. I'm still rubbish at golf, though, so the keys to the executive washroom remain - tantalisingly - out of reach.

• "99 Francs" is a good example of how an annoying book can actually be made into a very entertaining movie. Thanks in no small part to the talent of Jean Dujardin (a little less deelish here than in other roles, it must be said). Advertising looks such FUN. Plus we're pretty sure we saw Guillaume Canet in the cinema. Yumm.

• Damon Albarn's "Monkey" is, quite simply, wonderful. I know you've probably read that elsewhere already, but it really is. I say that even though my short-sightedness meant I had to keep asking "Who is that woman in white floating from the ceiling?" and "Why does that man have a pig's head?" because I couldn't read the subtitles. Some stunning set-pieces, including an under-the-sea scene featuring a large starfish. No Guillaume Canet though.

• Pramil is my latest restaurant recommendation. I can still taste those raspberries with green tea ice-cream (I mean that in a good way). Bon appétit!!
  

Cherchez la femme

Once upon a time, dear reader, way back in the 80s, there was a French TV presenter called Jacques Martin who, somehow, seemed to hog the small screen for most of Sunday. His funeral took place today and, despite a long career as an actor, satirist and comic, he will probably best be remembered as the host of "L'Ecole des Fans," an unimaginably cheesy (my italics) talent show for the under-10s. The format of his interviews of the "contestants" - like that of the rest of the show - never varied. "What does Mummy do?," "What does Daddy do?," "Are they here today?" and, inevitably, "What do you want to do when you grow up?" There were normally a few gags to be squeezed out of this tired old routine, along the lines of "out of the mouths of babes etc." before the little 'uns were allowed to give their - usually excruciating - performance. That said, we watched the whole thing EVERY WEEK, admittedly normally with a hangover. And the show lasted...wait for it...nearly 20 YEARS. But, when Nicolas Sarkozy was elected as France's president in May, Martin was thrust back into the spotlight for another reason. He was the first - and much older - husband of the new First Lady, Cecilia. Not only that but it was actually Sarkozy, then mayor of the Paris suburb of Neuilly, who married them, before embarking on an affair with Cecilia himself. "Ooooh la-la-la-la-la-la, only in France!" I hear you cry. Mind you, C. - a well-preserved 49 who worked at one time as a model - has a bit of a roving eye herself. In 2005, she ditched Sarkozy to start a very high-profile affair with a top ad executive, a liaison that lasted for a year. Fast movers, these French types, you see. Anyway, all this is just by way of explanation for this cartoon on the front of French satirical mag Charlie Hebdo this week. In a tribute to Martin, they depict him asking his stock question, "And what would you like to do when you grow up?" To which the young Sarkozy, for it is he, replies "I want to screw your wife!" You can read a more sober tribute to Martin here (plus a nice anecdote about Martin's reaction when Cecilia left him).

Clapperboard Queen

Showbiz, dear reader. I just CAN'T keep away from it, try as I might. Just when I think I've finally left behind the smell of the greasepaint, the roar of the crowd, for good, Lady Luck lifts her fickle finger and pokes me back into the limelight. I'd just settled down in the Swedish Centre cafe with a mug of coffee and a pastry filled with what the Swedes delightfully refer to as "Grandma's cough" when the phone rang. My phone, I mean, not theirs. It was Toby. "Listen," he said. "Do you mind if we meet for coffee round the corner instead? I've got to do something with some musketeers, but it won't take long..." Which is how I found myself with French actor Jean-Christophe Bouvet, a Jack Russell and four musketeers (the Lames du Marais), shooting a film about Marie-Antoinette's dog. We all mucked in and it was great fun but I still have absolutely no idea (my italics) what it was all about. Afterwards, we did indeed go for that coffee with Jean-Christophe and his charming assistant Florian and had a rather wide-ranging discussion about working with Rip Torn, Tecktonic dance moves and Aussiebum undies. All that and then out for dinner to celebrate the birthday of another rising star... "Fabulous" doesn't even START to cover it...(P.S. coming soon, pics and more from Micke's MUTHA of all Gay Karaoke nights)

Peter Petrelli- Because He's Worth It

"Heroes" - dontcha just LOVE it?? At last, something to set the TiVo for on a Saturday night. Beautiful people with small bottoms, shiny hair and SUPERpowers battling the - equally attractive - forces of evil. An epic struggle packaged in 45-minute chunks, who could ask for anything more? I don't care that I don't really understand the Nikki/Jessica thing (I can never tell which one's which). Or that Claire, the cheerleader, looks about 30. Even the bits in Japanese don't get on my nerves (true!!). There's just ONE thing that spoils it for me: Peter Petrelli's hair. It's just a little too artful, a tad too "product"-heavy, dontcha think? I've become obsessed with it. When he's on screen, I can look at nothing else. I judge entire episodes on whether Peter's having a bad hair day or not. Am I alone in this? Help me people!! (Obviously, I love him and this is just a cunning ruse to stick a big fat photo in a place where I can gaze at it all day). P.S. OMG, I am informed by my VOX buddy Felipe that even better things are on the way.

And the Winner is....

JULIEN!! Last night was the grand final-ey of Nouvelle Star, the French version of Pop Idol. It's taken sixteen - count 'em - weeks to whittle down the contenders from fifteen to the final two. In the red corner, ukulele-playing Julien, with his hairslide, who describes his greatest quality as being "frigid or precise" and claims to be a fan of crusty old French novelist/literary historian Jean d'Ormesson. And in the blue corner, Tigane, who says his "kind nature" is his strong point and cites Michael Jackson, Alicia Keys and Stevie Wonder as his biggest influences. I need not tell you, dear reader, that Miss Kitty and I were GLUED to the sofa at Rhino75 Towers, biting our nails and licking our bottoms, respectively. Though Tigane has a pleasant enough voice, bless him, he suffers from something of a charisma by-pass and is just a smidgin' karaoke. Julien, on the other hand, had our vote from the start and his version of "Le Mal-Aimé" (a French cover of "Daydreamer" as sung by David Cassidy - watch the original here) brought a tear to my eye and a lump to my throat. Another highlight was his jazzy performance of "Smells like Teen Spirit" (ok, bit of a Paul Anka rip-off, but he does it well) in a red velvet suit that inspired this wonderful haiku from AussieLass. I didn't like the "Ebony & Ivory" duet with Tigane, though - it's a grisly song at the best of times and they had the harmonies all wrong. ::sigh:: Ah well, at least we got the right result IMHO. Now only a couple of months to go before "Star Academy" (the French version of "Fame Academy") starts again...In the meantime, watch Julien in action here. I think I may start wearing a hairslide myself...

Face of Fashion

I'm back!! The wedding was superb fun, the bride was radiant and it was a great chance to catch up with some people - Parisians and others - I haven't seen in years - and meet some new ones! Surprisingly, given the amount of champagne + wine + armagnac (oooh!) consumed, I felt positively sprightly the next morning. Who'd have thought it? Now when I lived in London and dinosaurs roamed the earth Sunday was always exhibition day, which is how I found myself at the wonderful Face of Fashion photography show at the National Portrait Gallery. Looking at this mussed up Justin, courtesy of Steven Klein. Which I LOVE. It's only on until the end of this month so I'd urge you to get down there pronto - it's even free (my italics) for card-carrying members of the showbiz fraternity like myself. The Klein stuff was, IMHO, by far the best, though maybe that's because the images were less familiar than the Corinne Day or Mario Sorrenti shots. Either way, I'd forgotten how truly excellent the NPG is. A quick sprint round Waterstone's and before I knew it , it was time to wave goodbye and get back on da Star to come home. Plus, I've just realised that Thursday's a bank holiday - again!! My cup runneth over.

My Night With Jamel

Last night, I was in a bar just round the corner from Rhino Towers with three (count 'em) French comics. Jamel Debbouze, Omar and Fred. What are the odds of that happening? They were still there when we left at 2 a.m. Some of them were drinking champagne, we were drinking vodka. But we were laughing more. Am I or am I not a celebrity magnet? QED.

Cyril in My Kitchen

I'm positively brimming (my italics) with excitement, dear reader. Cyril Lignac, the French Jamie Oliver, is coming round to cook for me!! Ok ok, first of all I have to win this sandwich competition organised by the makers of luscious (worth a try) cream cheese Kiri, but surely that is merely a formality? Who, after all, could resist my triple-layer "Nutella, Marmite and banana" on polar bread special? It's been known to make a grown man (me) cry. It's certainly more original than anything Cyril himself has ever come up with. He "shot" to televisual fame by taking a group of unemployed people and teaching them how to cook (ooh reminds me of....oh yes, Jamie Oliver) and then set up his own restaurant called "15" (as did, who was it? Ah yes, Jamie Oliver). Ha, I hear you snort, I expect he'll be tackling school dinners next. Yes, that's right. Still, his recipes ARE different (more fiddly and restaurant-y than Jamie's, but not bad at all, particularly on the French classics). In the interests of fairness, I have an equal number of cookbooks by each, but my heart really belongs to Jamie. That said, however, he's not offering to come round and cook, is he? I wonder what I shall wear....?

"The Tudors"

Dear reader, did I ever mention what a sucker I am for a ruff and a pair of well-fill'd (N.B. slightly Elizabethan spelling there) britches? As a child, I was completely obsessed with the Tudors and Henry VIII in particular. There's even an embarrassing story about how I once - to my parents' horror - tried to force our local barber to name the six wives IN ORDER. I think I was about eight at the time. I kept notebooks on them, that's how bad it was. Why did no-one point out to me that they were just a bunch of ginger Welsh people? No wonder I'm psychologically scarred. But I digress. Imagine my delight, nevertheless, to discover this rather fabulous mini-series, featuring the comely Jonathan Rhys-Wassisface. He's definitely my kind of Henry VIII - nice pecs, brooding eyes and not even the slightest whiff of ginger or Welshness about him ::swoon:: He's also about 4 feet tall, but people WERE smaller in those days, it's an acknowledged historical fact. Anyway, if you click on the pic, you can go to their site and watch the first two episodes for free (my italics). Enjoy.

Flying the Flag

"We're flying the flag all over the world, we're flying the flag for you." I wouldn't want you to think, dear reader, that I 've been slacking off during my stay at Castle Rhino in the U.K. Tonight, I have been GLUED to the TV, watching the nail-biting (I use those italics advisedly) sing-off to choose Britain's entry for that red-letter event in every music-lover's calendar, the Eurovision Song Contest. My French readers should be proud to hear that one of their countrywomen, the very pretty and silver-tonsilled Cyndi - who now appears to live in Wales, doubtless for a good reason - made it to the final two, beating off (frankly pretty poor) efforts from former Atomic Kitten Liz McClarnon and East17's Brian Harvey (a man who, lest we forget, once managed to run himself over). But once Scooch hit the stage, you knew it was all over. Choreography featuring drinks-trolleys, the emergency-exits routine and a steward asking "Would you like something to suck on landing, sir?" - well, it couldn't get much more camp, could it? Plus, there's a certain desperation about them. The girls have that hard-as-nails, "eyes 'n' teeth" glamour that comes from working on too many cruise ships, the blonde guy has obviously been hitting the biscuit barrel and the other fella would make the MC in Cabaret look butch. This is their last shot and they know it. Glorious, I love them. Watch it here - and roll on May 12 and U.K. victory. Mind you, not everyone agrees. Here's Matt's view of the proceedings :-) P.S. While we're on a showbiz note, guess who I bumped into on the Eurostar? Think tall, think Texan, think Tom and... well, I won't spoil it, send me your answers on a postcard...

Cooking by Numbers

Those of you who've been concerned about the contents of my fridge - and you are legion - will be relieved to hear I've finally found a solution. No longer do I have to worry about my rather haphazard style of food shopping - faced with the usual almost giddily eclectic selection of inredients, I now simply turn to the wonderful (my italics) Cooking by Numbers. Et voilà!! OK, it doesn't specify if those apricots are hunza or not, or if the chocolate should be Valrhona, and indeed there's no mention of champagne, but when you're lacking inspiration on a Wednesday night, it fits the bill perfectly. Try it and see... I particularly liked the description of Lemon Chicken - "Chicken partners up with its old friend lemon with crazy results" though it did come with the caveat "You are missing an essential ingredient: chicken". What a bummer! In other news, I'm off to London AGAIN this weekend, though for work this time, and will be having dinner here on Friday evening. I, of course, reveal that information in the hope that I'll be "papped" either entering or leaving the restaurant. Over to you!!

"Contre-Enquête"

Sunday found me, dear reader, decidedly the worse for wear after the lovely Meg's fur 'n' fanny party (I am now the proud owner of a mix-CD entitled "Vaginal Follies" - how unlikely is that?). Nevertheless, fortified by gallons of English breakfast tea and gingerbread chez Nicolas and Morag-Ann (that sounds very Enid Blyton, doesn't it?), I called up The Captain and we decided to go to the cinema. Bedtime Stories had said this movie was worth a look, and he was right. Is it my imagination or does Jean Dujardin get hotter with every year that passes? This film is a bit of a departure for him - no laughs in there at all - but he's great in it, as is Laurent Lucas who plays the prisoner who may or may not be guilty of raping and killing the Dujardin character's eight-year-old daughter. There were a couple of really creepy scenes towards the end that had me peeping through my fingers - if there'd been a sofa, I would have hidden behind it. Even the Captain confessed to being a little jittery and he's not a man who scares easily :). It's a dark film, full of foreboding but the editing is excellent (there's no downtime in there) and the acting, at least the main roles, is pretty good. "So what, Rhino?" I hear some of you cry. "It's never going to show in my local cinema and even if it does, I won't be able to understand it!" But I think it's important to show that French films aren't ALWAYS about two people talking and sh*gging for three hours without really coming to any kind of conclusion or cutesy girls traipsing round Montmartre - they make real movies too!

Shirtless

Apparently, this photo was on the front page of the Daily Mail today (and rightly so in my opinion). What ON EARTH (my caps) is going on with Harry Potter?? And what's all this about a scene with a horse?? (Oooh, didn't I see that in Personal Trainers 4?). For the full story, do as I did and pay a visit to Aimless Ramblings of Zefrog. I DO love the theatre.