( The Village Bicycle, 79-81 Ledbury Road, W11 2AG The venue, on the fashionable Ledbury Road, was decked out with colourful balloons, candy, goody-bags and popcorn and the basement was covered in bean-bags to snuggle up and watch The Last Days of Disco, one of Sevigny’s first movies! Guests could get into the disco vibe with sequined stick-on lashes provided by Shimmer Twins. Village Bicycle is a watering hole for London’s style and art lovers, stocking a range of cool and whimsical brands of clothing, jewellery, accessories and household trinkets. The collection strikes the perfect balance between simple and wearable and stylishly quirky and innovative. One of my favourite pieces was a jean jacket with leather sleeves and fantastic intricate cut-out detailing (the picture does not do it justice). This time around the fashion icon teamed girly and grunge! Leather mini-dresses with floral cut-outs hung beside white sun-dresses with edgy zips. The hip Notting Hill boutique Village Bicycle celebrated the launch of Chloe Sevigny’s new collection on Tuesday night with a ‘movie night’ themed party. Is this year’s stale spectacle an indication of where film is heading: into the cauldron of aged amusement and burnt-out dreams? I think this is a gross overreaction and that once the immediate dismay dies down, people will realise that casting the film industry into obsoleteness is like throwing out Britain’s supply of tea! It is a staple product in our lives and we will continue to love and consume it through good times and bad. The unorthodox comedian, unhindered by political correctness, sauntered down the red carpet in a Gaddafi-inspired military outfit and flanked by sexy attendants to promote his new movie, The Dictator.
The only noteworthy aspect amidst the blur of exceptionally prosaic gowns and stock interviews was Sacha Baron Cohen’s controversial scattering of Kim Jong Il’s ‘ashes’ over an unamused Ryan Seacrest, presenter for E! Entertainment. Anyone on the edge of their seats with this round of results must have been hibernating for the past year!Ī mediocre award ceremony is always something to be expected, but one can generally count on the preceding Red Carpet runway for good entertainment value. Hugo raked in Oscars for most of the visual categories. Supporting Actress went to Octavia Spencer for The Help and Christopher Plummer was awarded for his supporting role in Beginners. Meryl Streep collected the award for Actress in a Leading Role for her performance in The Iron Lady. But would at least a little excitement of the unexpected be too much to ask? The Artist added Best Film, Best Director and Best Actor in a Leading Role (Jean Dujardin) to its trophy cabinet, which by now must be the size of a small football stadium. I suppose it is difficult not to be predictable when you are the culmination of an award season supposedly predicting your outcome.
8 previous rounds of Oscar-hosting drained the comedy king of on-stage flare and charisma. They’re the place to go, to laugh, to cry, to question, to text” was a line from his opening spiel that was met with hesitant chuckles. “The movies have always been there for us. A Botox, fake tan, Regain treated Billy Crystal struggled with dance numbers and one-liners. Even many of the red-carpet ensembles reflected the old days of Hollywood glamour with classically cut gowns, ruffled hair, bright red lipstick and lots of diamonds.Įntertaining the ‘present day’ viewer seemed not to have been on the cards. Billy Crystal, the host, looked like he was plucked from an antique store and given a glossy polish. The big winners, The Artist and Hugo are both films that pay tribute to the early days of cinema. Are they wrong? The event was housed in the newly baptized Hollywood Highland Theatre, haunted by the Ghost of Kodak Past. They say ‘practice makes perfect’, but even after 83 years the Academy still managed to put on what can only be described as a lackluster performance! The winners were predictable, the comedy was cringeworthingly contrived and the fashion was mostly tasteless.Ĭritics are calling it a nostalgic celebration of the past and a fatalistic foreshadowing of the decline of the film industry.
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