Operation Brainmess

Who's seen Brighton Rock? No, the new one. Go on, put your hands up. Really? That few? Hmpf, kids today, I don't know.

Okay, so did you watch the credits? Any names on the crew leap out at you? How about Rowan Joffe? No, not the Orange guy. Yes, I'm sure he does know when he's been Tango'd. Go and sit in the corner.

Joffe has a bit of a pedigree, as he's been producing interesting work for film and television for the last decade or so. He wrote and directed the "recovering paedophile" drama Secret Life for Channel 4, co-wrote 28 Weeks Later and adapted the novel A Very Private Gentleman as The American for George Clooney. The interesting part is that he seems, according to Wikipedia, to have appeared on the scene almost spontaneously in 2000 - something that ties into his heritage.

His real pedigree lies in his parentage. His father is Roland Joffe, a successful BBC television director in 1970s who broke in film in the middle of the following decade. He achieved the impressive feat of landing Best Director nominations at the Oscars for both his first two films, The Killing Fields and The Mission, but things have sagged for him since then. He was the original director of Super Mario Bros, before being separated from his job,and his follow-up was a remake of The Scarlet Letter with Demi Moore in the lead. It was laughed out of cinemas. His last respectable film was Vatel in... 2000.

From the Oscar-nominated
director of "The Mission"

My theory is somewhat radical, I'll admit, but it does fit the facts. It seems fairly obvious that Joffe Sr. transplanted his mind into that of his son at the turn of the millennium, possibly in accordance with some pre-existing prophecy. His career since then has been beyond embarrassment. A US-Russian torture porn flick called Captivity, which had its billboards removed in Los Angeles for being offensive, and leading Joss Whedon to accuse the producers of mysogyny. Another Russian film about phoney lesbians T.a.T.u. starring paparazzoid nobody Mischa Barton, which has struggled to get a release in its home country. Most startlingly, a film about the founder of weirdo Catholic sect Opus Dei - produced by members of Opus Dei.

Short of some horrible blackmail plot, there seems to be no reason for Joffe Sr. to be making these films - unless he is doing so without a controlling intelligence. With his son's body as his puppet - and who is to say that it really is his son, it could just be some unfortunate street youth - he can create a new career, safe from the stains of his previous work, while his name is used to produce weapons-grade bollocks. Yes, I have seen Captivity. No, you don't what to see a film where someone is force-fed their own liquidised foot.

But surely, the ultimate proof is this - Can you prove it didn't happen?

You can go back to your seat now.

Just a Trim, Thanks

Yeah, a serious one this time. I'm not just here for the fun things in life, you know.

During my copious spare time in the office, I recently pondered upon a story I had seen in one of the many newspapers we receive. The story was about a man who had recently moved in with his girlfriend, and converted to her religion to appease her and her family, only for them to split up some time later. The nub, if that word can be used, of the situation was that said conversion included being circumcised. Our poor protagonist is thus left bereft, without that which he holds most dear, etc. But it started my excuse for a mind working on this whole subject.

I'm not the world's biggest fan of religion. A person's personal faith is business for them and them alone, but as soon as religion starts to appear, one has to refine one's faith so that it matches with those of others in the group. I've been adamant for some time that religion thus exists separate from faith, and then largely as a means of control. Somewhat embarrassingly, I drew this conclusion after reading The Da Vinci Code. It may be a poorly-researched Choose Your Own Adventure for commuters, but it certainly doesn't shy away from the big questions.

This lead me back to the story of the lad under the knife. A great innovation in that area has been the vasectomy, the nuclear option for contraceptives. However, these can be reversed. Short of saving the off-cuts in a pickle jar, one won't get one's foreskin back. He must have been very certain that she was the one, this was the one that was going to stick. So sure, that he would have part of himself removed to signify the importance of their union.

But this is not the whole matter. Fred the Convert was switching to another team solely to appease his girlfriend and her family. Not because he truly felt in his heart that this was the Truth, but because it was a condition of living under the same roof. One could see it as being equal to taking your shoes off in the hall, or using a coaster when you put a beer bottle on the living room table. It has no purpose, and certainly no meaning, beyond that. As I said, this is one example of why I consider organised religion to be a means of control. The family doesn't want to welcome a new convert to the flock. They want to bring another tick in their column for Judgement Day. Because a conversion of faith solely to move in with someone can never be a sincere act, and unless they are engaging in a staggering case of Double-Think, they know this.

The unfortunate implication of this is that these devoutly religious people do not want someone from outside their creed setting up a home with one of their own. This seems like little more than prejudice. Is he not good enough as he is? Does he have to go under the knife and make a pledge that all the participants know to be a lie in order to satisfy them? It seems so.

One could argue, of course, that if our protagonist truly loves his girlfriend, he would go through with it to be with her and to make her happy. Under most circumstances this would be a fair compromise, but compromise has to cut both ways. Surely she loves him for who he is, not for what his potential could be? Again, this leads back to the question of sincerity. In what way is he different, when before he is outside her faith and honest, and after is one of the congregation and mouthing words he does not believe? If I were given this kind of ultimatum, my reaction would be one of shock and bafflement. Is it truly so important to you that I share your faith that you want me to lie about it and undergo unnecessary and irreversible cosmetic surgery? Why do you even want me to believe the same as you? Are you that insecure? Do you think that those outside your faith are beneath you? What about my feelings? I'm happy to live with someone with your faith; why can't you live with my beliefs? Are they less important than yours? Are you only concerned that they are different?

Questions he probably should have thought of in the waiting room. Along with wondering whether or not he'd be able to call in sick for work the following day.