Top 7 - My Favourite Things From a Second Month in Quarantine
Unfortunately, we are here once again. It's been another month in quarantine and while things seem like they're getting a bit better, they're still pretty shit. I'll steer clear of getting too political but I will say that I hope the only thing you're currently struggling through is the mental toll of being away from people you care about. That's not what I'm here to talk about though, I'm here to provide some escapism. Over the last month, I've been enjoying all sorts of games, shows, books and albums and I would love to share some of them with you. Just like last time, films don't make the cut, that's what my Letterboxd account is for (where you can find all my opinions on Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Trolls: World Tour and everything in between). I've also added the stipulation that I won't talk about anything from the last list, so even though I've finished Disco Elysium in the last few days, I will not be talking about it today. As one final announcement, I've decided to try something new this week. Alongside this written version, I've also released a YouTube version! That way, if you can't be bothered to read, you can go there or if you want to listen to music at the same time, you can read this. Just click that link below and you'll find the video and a few other things on the new YouTube channel I'm slowly working on! Now that all that is out of the way, let's celebrate some of the best that's been getting me through all this strangeness!
I had hoped this summer would be the start of my driving lessons, but obviously that isn't going to happen. Instead, cruising through the virtual countryside and irresponsibly destroying cobbled walls in Forza Horizon 4 is a delightful compromise.
I love the strangely fantastical romance worlds of Haruki Murakami and while my mum saw the title Men Without Women and let out a slightly sad sigh at it (thanks Mum), the enjoyment these short stories gave me was worth the pity.
Seven years on, there are still few sandboxes like Grand Theft Auto V. It's a world I can just spend hours in and even starting this game for the fourth time, I struggle not to find enjoyment from it.
Arcade Fire are a band that are yet to disappoint me and recently I've returned to their last album, Everything Now. With all the love I give to their older stuff, it's easy to forget that they really do still have the power to make you get up and dance to their downbeat bops about the end of the world.
Nier: Automata is fairly shamelessly just philosophy but with robots in thigh high boots and short skirts but you know what, I like how bonkers that is and the gameplay is damn fun too. I've only scratched the surface so far, but I can't wait to see what gonzo shit awaits.
Mark Kermode is the UK's best known film critic, but far from a one trick pony. In How Does It Feel?, he charts his life through the bands he bumbled his way into, writing with a refreshing self deprecation and wit that will make any reader eager to listen to Comsat Angels.
A goofy little indie game I stumbled into, Pikuniku is an adorable little game about bumbling around a silly cartoon world, until suddenly it becomes about global surveillance and the terrors of capitalism, in a way I really appreciate.
Those seven things were good, these seven things are even better (and ranked, for added controversy).
Even though Girl, Woman, Other won the Booker Prize last year, I feel sorry for Bernardine Evaristo. The win was in extraordinary circumstances, where the jury picked two winners for the first time in history. The unfortunate part of that for Evaristo is that the other winner was the massively famous Margaret Atwood, for her sequel to the cultural juggernaut that is The Handmaid's Tale. What that meant was that Atwood has taken all the headlines, which is such a shame because Evaristo's novel truly is incredible. In fairness, I haven't read The Testaments, it's probably great, but Girl, Woman, Other deserves far more attention than it has gotten. The novel is a story told from 12 perspectives, all minority figures. As the title hints, some are women, some are girls, some are "other" (non-identifying) and all are from minority racial backgrounds. Everything around that fluctuates though, allowing examinations across time and landscape of farms, London and even the 19th century. The thing I kept comparing the book to was the sprawling spiders web storytelling of the film Magnolia, only on the other side of the world. It's such an intersectional novel, but never in a way that feels preachy, such a freewheeling joy so consistently. If there were any way to spread ideas of diversity, feminism and class struggle to the wider public, it would be through a book as well written as this. The final thing I'll say for now is that it shows sides of the United Kingdom that I've never seen before, yet in a way that always feels true to this country I and many others get to call home. Just wonderful really.
Kind of like Arcade Fire, M83 is a band who have been swirling around my pop culture sphere for a while, yet have only truly come into focus in the last year. Their brand of techno weirdness is like few others, spreading joy and misery and nostalgia with ease. Having recently returned to my childhood bedroom though, it's obviously their beautifully nostalgic Hurry Up, We're Dreaming that I've fallen in love with at the moment. The most famous song from the album is "Midnight City" and that's a perfect example of the power of this album. On the one hand, it is a joyous dance hit that is yet to fail to get me dancing but on the other, its ending feels mournful, like you're hearing something beautiful crescendo for the last time, never to be recaptured. It's a song that can capture all that, while also delivering an absolutely divine saxophone solo in the final chorus. The rest of the album fluctuates in tone, but never strays too far from those ideals. The exquisite agony of "Wait" is balanced out by the breathless racing of "New Map" and even a song filled with childish ramblings about frogs adds to this innocent ambience. Hurry Up, We're Dreaming is an album that attempts to capture the feeling of knowing you'll never be able to feel like you once felt. That is such a complicated emotion and yet, for my money, M83 completely nail it. No other album makes me feel the way this album feels, especially at the moment. Explaining what it does and how is difficult, but feeling its power is very easy indeed.
By this point, my adoration for Community is well documented, but now feels like a real renaissance moment for the show. For the seven years it was airing, it was a cult hit. Not many people knew about it, but those who did worshipped it. I was one of those people. Every now and then I return to it, often to show someone else the show, but recently, the entirety of Community was released on Netflix. What is incredible looking back at the show is how ahead of its time it was. The meta-comedy and dedication to homage was groundbreaking, yes, but even in the cast and crew it was streets ahead. Since the show began, Donald Glover went on to create his own wildly successful show and rap persona (you almost certainly know the name Childish Gambino), John Oliver became one of the most beloved presenters on the late night talk show circuit and directors/producers the Russo Brothers went on to direct four Marvel movies, one of which is now the highest grossing film ever made. That aside, the show remains hilarious and heartwarming, still presenting to me hidden gags that I hadn't caught before. It manages that thing that only truly great comedies can do, in that it balances out the brilliant gags with characters you genuinely care about. I believe this is currently my sixth rewatch of the show and yeah, my favourite show ever made is still utterly brilliant. All six seasons (including the under-seen Yahoo year) are on Netflix for your viewing pleasure and it's hard to think of a more enjoyable binge you could have during this time.
We've got another example coming up in a moment but how i'm feeling now is one of the first great examples of an artifact of this pandemic. That sounds pretentious, but what I mean by that is that if we want to explain this moment to future generations, I think this album is a great example. It was made by Charli XCX while quarantined over the last five weeks and is exactly what it says on the tin, a document of how she's feeling now. There's an obvious disconnect to an extent, in that she is a wealthy celebrity who had a home recording studio to record the album in, but there's still a level of universality to the themes. The way I read the album is that it's about the foolishness of wanting connection in our current moment, of flailing out for the friends we were once able to see daily and who are now seen exclusively through our phone screens, most clearly expressed through the exasperated cries of "anthems". In a weird way, it captures a similar nostalgic longing that Hurry Up, We're Dreaming does, only the nostalgia is for events that were far more recent. It also does all of this through a bunch of electronic weirdness that will not be for everyone but is around my perfect level of weirdness. All this strangeness feels cumbersome at times but I feel okay dismissing some of it because the fact that this album was written, recorded and mixed within this bizarre time makes the album feel rewarding regardless of the moments that don't work. Maybe it sounds like I'm recommending this album more as an artifact than as an actual piece of music to be appreciated, but that's not the case. how i'm feeling now is too full of life and heartfelt odes to absent friends to ignore it as what it is; a great album that also doubles as a strange encapsulation of this surreal moment.
I love Charlie Brooker. At this point, he's probably most famous as the co-creator and writer of Black Mirror, the show everyone loves to feel horribly upset during, but his roots go much deeper than that. I got into Brooker at the start of the decade with his Wipe shows, that were comical, sideways looks at the world of television, the news or the year that was. At one point, we would get a guaranteed series of Wipe every year and while the fact that we don't anymore is only because Brooker is busy being wildly successful, it still makes me misty eyed. However, he has returned, for our pandemic stricken times, with what I feel is currently the definitive artifact of this moment. Using that typical sardonic wit, Brooker deconstructs all this panic and lays the world out fairly simply. Importantly, that starts with clear and concise information. The information is presented as a bedrock to build humour off, of course, but this is still an informative show that details how we got here, what here looks like and where the hell we go next. One slight difference to earlier Wipes though is that Brooker allows tenderness to slip through. Perhaps it's because this show is delivered from his house, where he's currently living with his wife and kids, or perhaps it's the talons of old age starting to grip him, but blanket cynicism is no longer the order of the day. Put downs of politicians and jokes about dubbing over people in masks are still a vital part of the show, but it truly feels like the anger Brooker feels is motivated by a genuine belief in betterment. I know it now sounds like I'm being very dismissive of his earlier work, where anger was a tool for comedy, but that's because this kind of is a step-up. Maybe he's made funnier stuff, but I don't think Charlie Brooker has ever made anything so essential. It's on iPlayer now, you have no excuse not to check it out.
Pretty much every video game I've talked about here has been one I've been able to discover through Xbox's Game Pass. For those who don't know, it's basically Netflix for games, in that you pay a set monthly fee and get unlimited access to a wide selection of games. I have my own slight hesitations around the service for people who aren't avid gamers but seeing as I'm trapped inside at the moment, it's a pretty good value prospect. I mention all of this because Slay the Spire is currently my personal favourite discovery. Were it not on this service, I would probably not have bought it and tried the game out, but I am so glad my interest was piqued. Essentially, it is a deck-building game, in which you battle enemies with your collection of cards on an attempt to reach the final boss, losing everything and starting all over if you die. For a while, I've had this really horrible habit of popping on for "just one game", except just one game of Slay the Spire can take an hour sometimes. Essentially, if you enjoy the card battling elements of something like Hearthstone, but are fed up of predatory micro-transactions, this is exactly the game for you. It may be really tough at times, but it is endlessly replayable and even as I write this, I'm finding myself more and more tempted just to stop writing and play a game or two. Maybe one. One more won't hurt, will it?
I am delighted to say that, with the number one spot, we find ourselves with an honest to God masterpiece. Normal People is an adaptation of the Sally Rooney novel that was itself a huge cultural talking point on its release. I didn't read it but immediately after release, the show was gathering an equally colossal amount of buzz and so, I set aside a day and lost myself in the world of Marianne and Connell, two classmates in Sligo, Ireland, who find themselves falling in love. Across sixth form and university, we watch their relationship evolve and it is quite frankly one of the most gorgeously evoked things in recent memory. Much has been made of the candidly bare sex scenes in the show and while I can't deny it was a shock seeing an actual penis on the BBC, what was most impactful for me was always the subtler moments. The way a character says something we know to be a lie, their eyes betraying them to their partner, who knows it to be a lie too. The way an intimate moment can be picked up from months later, just from a single brush of a hand. The way one simple sentence can be loaded beyond comprehension. The writing, directing and music teams all deserve heavy credit, but I feel like so much of the success of the show lies on the novice yet extraordinarily talented shoulders of the two leads, Daisy Edgar-Jones and Paul Mescal. Their chemistry is almost literally the beating heart of the show and the fact it is as strong as it is means that the show has already been elevated to the levels of some of my all time favourite romances, like Call Me By Your Name or the Before trilogy. Even separated though, the two are sensational. There's an episode near the end of the show where Connell has to deal with some shocking news and just thinking about his performance now gives me goosebumps. Before wrapping up, it's also worth mentioning the length of the show. I've made many posts over the years about how I enjoy a film or a show that doesn't overstay its welcome and Normal People aces that. There are 12 episodes, all roughly 30 minutes in length. The short episode length makes each episode feel deliciously delectable and six hours is the perfect amount of time to sustain this level of love, heartbreak and everything in between. The joy of this is that by the time the final credits begin to roll, you're reeling. It was almost too fleeting, but in that perfect way, isn't the same true of love? Quite frankly, it is pretty much a perfect show, delivered in the perfect format. Best of all, if you're in the UK, it's all on iPlayer, ready to be savoured. I rarely have the feeling with TV of finishing a show and being instantly struck by a feeling of needing to go right back and live it all again. Normal People gave me that feeling and so many more and I will likely carry it in my heart for years to come.
Forza Horizon 4
I had hoped this summer would be the start of my driving lessons, but obviously that isn't going to happen. Instead, cruising through the virtual countryside and irresponsibly destroying cobbled walls in Forza Horizon 4 is a delightful compromise.
Men Without Women by Haruki Murakami
I love the strangely fantastical romance worlds of Haruki Murakami and while my mum saw the title Men Without Women and let out a slightly sad sigh at it (thanks Mum), the enjoyment these short stories gave me was worth the pity.
Grand Theft Auto V
Seven years on, there are still few sandboxes like Grand Theft Auto V. It's a world I can just spend hours in and even starting this game for the fourth time, I struggle not to find enjoyment from it.
Everything Now by Arcade Fire
Arcade Fire are a band that are yet to disappoint me and recently I've returned to their last album, Everything Now. With all the love I give to their older stuff, it's easy to forget that they really do still have the power to make you get up and dance to their downbeat bops about the end of the world.
Neir: Automata
Nier: Automata is fairly shamelessly just philosophy but with robots in thigh high boots and short skirts but you know what, I like how bonkers that is and the gameplay is damn fun too. I've only scratched the surface so far, but I can't wait to see what gonzo shit awaits.
How Does It Feel? A Life of Musical Misadventures by Mark Kermode
Mark Kermode is the UK's best known film critic, but far from a one trick pony. In How Does It Feel?, he charts his life through the bands he bumbled his way into, writing with a refreshing self deprecation and wit that will make any reader eager to listen to Comsat Angels.
Pikuniku
A goofy little indie game I stumbled into, Pikuniku is an adorable little game about bumbling around a silly cartoon world, until suddenly it becomes about global surveillance and the terrors of capitalism, in a way I really appreciate.
Those seven things were good, these seven things are even better (and ranked, for added controversy).
7. Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo
Even though Girl, Woman, Other won the Booker Prize last year, I feel sorry for Bernardine Evaristo. The win was in extraordinary circumstances, where the jury picked two winners for the first time in history. The unfortunate part of that for Evaristo is that the other winner was the massively famous Margaret Atwood, for her sequel to the cultural juggernaut that is The Handmaid's Tale. What that meant was that Atwood has taken all the headlines, which is such a shame because Evaristo's novel truly is incredible. In fairness, I haven't read The Testaments, it's probably great, but Girl, Woman, Other deserves far more attention than it has gotten. The novel is a story told from 12 perspectives, all minority figures. As the title hints, some are women, some are girls, some are "other" (non-identifying) and all are from minority racial backgrounds. Everything around that fluctuates though, allowing examinations across time and landscape of farms, London and even the 19th century. The thing I kept comparing the book to was the sprawling spiders web storytelling of the film Magnolia, only on the other side of the world. It's such an intersectional novel, but never in a way that feels preachy, such a freewheeling joy so consistently. If there were any way to spread ideas of diversity, feminism and class struggle to the wider public, it would be through a book as well written as this. The final thing I'll say for now is that it shows sides of the United Kingdom that I've never seen before, yet in a way that always feels true to this country I and many others get to call home. Just wonderful really.
6. Hurry Up, We're Dreaming by M83
Kind of like Arcade Fire, M83 is a band who have been swirling around my pop culture sphere for a while, yet have only truly come into focus in the last year. Their brand of techno weirdness is like few others, spreading joy and misery and nostalgia with ease. Having recently returned to my childhood bedroom though, it's obviously their beautifully nostalgic Hurry Up, We're Dreaming that I've fallen in love with at the moment. The most famous song from the album is "Midnight City" and that's a perfect example of the power of this album. On the one hand, it is a joyous dance hit that is yet to fail to get me dancing but on the other, its ending feels mournful, like you're hearing something beautiful crescendo for the last time, never to be recaptured. It's a song that can capture all that, while also delivering an absolutely divine saxophone solo in the final chorus. The rest of the album fluctuates in tone, but never strays too far from those ideals. The exquisite agony of "Wait" is balanced out by the breathless racing of "New Map" and even a song filled with childish ramblings about frogs adds to this innocent ambience. Hurry Up, We're Dreaming is an album that attempts to capture the feeling of knowing you'll never be able to feel like you once felt. That is such a complicated emotion and yet, for my money, M83 completely nail it. No other album makes me feel the way this album feels, especially at the moment. Explaining what it does and how is difficult, but feeling its power is very easy indeed.
5. Community
By this point, my adoration for Community is well documented, but now feels like a real renaissance moment for the show. For the seven years it was airing, it was a cult hit. Not many people knew about it, but those who did worshipped it. I was one of those people. Every now and then I return to it, often to show someone else the show, but recently, the entirety of Community was released on Netflix. What is incredible looking back at the show is how ahead of its time it was. The meta-comedy and dedication to homage was groundbreaking, yes, but even in the cast and crew it was streets ahead. Since the show began, Donald Glover went on to create his own wildly successful show and rap persona (you almost certainly know the name Childish Gambino), John Oliver became one of the most beloved presenters on the late night talk show circuit and directors/producers the Russo Brothers went on to direct four Marvel movies, one of which is now the highest grossing film ever made. That aside, the show remains hilarious and heartwarming, still presenting to me hidden gags that I hadn't caught before. It manages that thing that only truly great comedies can do, in that it balances out the brilliant gags with characters you genuinely care about. I believe this is currently my sixth rewatch of the show and yeah, my favourite show ever made is still utterly brilliant. All six seasons (including the under-seen Yahoo year) are on Netflix for your viewing pleasure and it's hard to think of a more enjoyable binge you could have during this time.
4. how i'm feeling now by Charli XCX
We've got another example coming up in a moment but how i'm feeling now is one of the first great examples of an artifact of this pandemic. That sounds pretentious, but what I mean by that is that if we want to explain this moment to future generations, I think this album is a great example. It was made by Charli XCX while quarantined over the last five weeks and is exactly what it says on the tin, a document of how she's feeling now. There's an obvious disconnect to an extent, in that she is a wealthy celebrity who had a home recording studio to record the album in, but there's still a level of universality to the themes. The way I read the album is that it's about the foolishness of wanting connection in our current moment, of flailing out for the friends we were once able to see daily and who are now seen exclusively through our phone screens, most clearly expressed through the exasperated cries of "anthems". In a weird way, it captures a similar nostalgic longing that Hurry Up, We're Dreaming does, only the nostalgia is for events that were far more recent. It also does all of this through a bunch of electronic weirdness that will not be for everyone but is around my perfect level of weirdness. All this strangeness feels cumbersome at times but I feel okay dismissing some of it because the fact that this album was written, recorded and mixed within this bizarre time makes the album feel rewarding regardless of the moments that don't work. Maybe it sounds like I'm recommending this album more as an artifact than as an actual piece of music to be appreciated, but that's not the case. how i'm feeling now is too full of life and heartfelt odes to absent friends to ignore it as what it is; a great album that also doubles as a strange encapsulation of this surreal moment.
3. Charlie Brooker's Antiviral Wipe
I love Charlie Brooker. At this point, he's probably most famous as the co-creator and writer of Black Mirror, the show everyone loves to feel horribly upset during, but his roots go much deeper than that. I got into Brooker at the start of the decade with his Wipe shows, that were comical, sideways looks at the world of television, the news or the year that was. At one point, we would get a guaranteed series of Wipe every year and while the fact that we don't anymore is only because Brooker is busy being wildly successful, it still makes me misty eyed. However, he has returned, for our pandemic stricken times, with what I feel is currently the definitive artifact of this moment. Using that typical sardonic wit, Brooker deconstructs all this panic and lays the world out fairly simply. Importantly, that starts with clear and concise information. The information is presented as a bedrock to build humour off, of course, but this is still an informative show that details how we got here, what here looks like and where the hell we go next. One slight difference to earlier Wipes though is that Brooker allows tenderness to slip through. Perhaps it's because this show is delivered from his house, where he's currently living with his wife and kids, or perhaps it's the talons of old age starting to grip him, but blanket cynicism is no longer the order of the day. Put downs of politicians and jokes about dubbing over people in masks are still a vital part of the show, but it truly feels like the anger Brooker feels is motivated by a genuine belief in betterment. I know it now sounds like I'm being very dismissive of his earlier work, where anger was a tool for comedy, but that's because this kind of is a step-up. Maybe he's made funnier stuff, but I don't think Charlie Brooker has ever made anything so essential. It's on iPlayer now, you have no excuse not to check it out.
2. Slay the Spire
Pretty much every video game I've talked about here has been one I've been able to discover through Xbox's Game Pass. For those who don't know, it's basically Netflix for games, in that you pay a set monthly fee and get unlimited access to a wide selection of games. I have my own slight hesitations around the service for people who aren't avid gamers but seeing as I'm trapped inside at the moment, it's a pretty good value prospect. I mention all of this because Slay the Spire is currently my personal favourite discovery. Were it not on this service, I would probably not have bought it and tried the game out, but I am so glad my interest was piqued. Essentially, it is a deck-building game, in which you battle enemies with your collection of cards on an attempt to reach the final boss, losing everything and starting all over if you die. For a while, I've had this really horrible habit of popping on for "just one game", except just one game of Slay the Spire can take an hour sometimes. Essentially, if you enjoy the card battling elements of something like Hearthstone, but are fed up of predatory micro-transactions, this is exactly the game for you. It may be really tough at times, but it is endlessly replayable and even as I write this, I'm finding myself more and more tempted just to stop writing and play a game or two. Maybe one. One more won't hurt, will it?
1. Normal People
I am delighted to say that, with the number one spot, we find ourselves with an honest to God masterpiece. Normal People is an adaptation of the Sally Rooney novel that was itself a huge cultural talking point on its release. I didn't read it but immediately after release, the show was gathering an equally colossal amount of buzz and so, I set aside a day and lost myself in the world of Marianne and Connell, two classmates in Sligo, Ireland, who find themselves falling in love. Across sixth form and university, we watch their relationship evolve and it is quite frankly one of the most gorgeously evoked things in recent memory. Much has been made of the candidly bare sex scenes in the show and while I can't deny it was a shock seeing an actual penis on the BBC, what was most impactful for me was always the subtler moments. The way a character says something we know to be a lie, their eyes betraying them to their partner, who knows it to be a lie too. The way an intimate moment can be picked up from months later, just from a single brush of a hand. The way one simple sentence can be loaded beyond comprehension. The writing, directing and music teams all deserve heavy credit, but I feel like so much of the success of the show lies on the novice yet extraordinarily talented shoulders of the two leads, Daisy Edgar-Jones and Paul Mescal. Their chemistry is almost literally the beating heart of the show and the fact it is as strong as it is means that the show has already been elevated to the levels of some of my all time favourite romances, like Call Me By Your Name or the Before trilogy. Even separated though, the two are sensational. There's an episode near the end of the show where Connell has to deal with some shocking news and just thinking about his performance now gives me goosebumps. Before wrapping up, it's also worth mentioning the length of the show. I've made many posts over the years about how I enjoy a film or a show that doesn't overstay its welcome and Normal People aces that. There are 12 episodes, all roughly 30 minutes in length. The short episode length makes each episode feel deliciously delectable and six hours is the perfect amount of time to sustain this level of love, heartbreak and everything in between. The joy of this is that by the time the final credits begin to roll, you're reeling. It was almost too fleeting, but in that perfect way, isn't the same true of love? Quite frankly, it is pretty much a perfect show, delivered in the perfect format. Best of all, if you're in the UK, it's all on iPlayer, ready to be savoured. I rarely have the feeling with TV of finishing a show and being instantly struck by a feeling of needing to go right back and live it all again. Normal People gave me that feeling and so many more and I will likely carry it in my heart for years to come.
And that's the list! I hope we don't end up doing this again in a month but equally, if it means more people are safe, that's a sacrifice we're all going to need to make, a third list of what I've been enjoying in quarantine will unfortunately appear. Whatever happens though, stay safe, stay sane and try and stay happy. xx
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