Deja view

This feature was published in BULL's seventh edition for 2012.

Reduce, reuse, recycle. Three simple words which environmental conservationists and the big, bad empires of the entertainment industry share as their common creed. Who’da thunk it?

Perhaps the phrase requires some moderation. “Reunite, remake, rerelease” seem to be the order of the day in the entertainment world. Try to hate it though we might, what journalist Natalie Craig describes as our “postmodern penchant for cultural recycling” is difficult to deny.

Usually more so than new offerings, revivals pull on our heartstrings, taking advantage of the potency of nostalgia. Absence so frequently (though not always) makes the heart grow fonder. This existing attachment works both ways, however. Often disappointing re-interpretations of once-mighty favourites induce overly-defensive, protectionist attacks. We see the contemporary updates as stains on our memories of a beloved original.

Old faithfuls, when not tampered with too much, can undergo facelifts that benefit both purveyor and audience. Disney has recently demonstrated this by capitalising on 3D technology. The Lion King 3D, released in cinemas last year, grossed almost $95 million according to Box Office Mojo. Not bad, considering the relatively small investment. Following this success, Disney’s biggest cash cows (or ‘family favourites’, as they’ll surely call them in the promos) will be undergoing similar treatments. Beauty and the Beast and now Finding Nemo have already had 3D cinematic releases, with this rollout to be succeeded by Monsters, Inc. and The Little Mermaid next year.

New is not necessarily better, however. The surviving members of iconic rock band Queen have teamed up with high-profile vocalists to aid them since the death of Freddie Mercury in 1991.  The band participated in the Olympic Closing Ceremony, with Mercury making an interactive appearance at the beginning of the sequence. However, although Jessie J took on ‘We Will Rock You’ with confidence and skill, Freddie’s raw charisma was conspicuous in its absence, casting a shadow over the performance. Journalist David Jays described the revival of the “glossy remnants” of the band, articulating the clear lack of what many continue to see as its core element.

2010's Progress: is new always better?

Fellow Olympic performers Take That serve as a case study in how to pull off a perfect, sustained reboot. When the boy-band split in 1996, soon after Robbie Williams flew the nest to become a solo star, no one expected they’d register so much as a blip on the pop charts again. Almost a decade later, however, the band (still sans Robbie) released a greatest hits package, fostering the nostalgia of mum-groupies across Britain and inspiring rumblings of more to come. The three albums they’ve released subsequently have sold almost eight million copies combined, eclipsing the band’s original sales figures. According to cultural commentator Tom Ewing, the crafting of the reunion as “a new chapter, not an unnecessary sequel” ensured the ongoing success of the group in its second manifestation. The return of Robbie on 2010’s Progress saw the group complete their seamless transformation from boy band to man-band.

Album reissuing is another phenomenon that has become mysteriously abundant in recent years. Every festive season seems to bring a slew of Greatest Hits, Number Ones, Best Ofs and Ultimate Collections from a variety of stars from the pop music hall of fame, with the addition of re-mastered, remixed or rediscovered “gems” – usually lukewarm leftovers or ‘b-sides’ – aimed at sealing the deal. These rather desperate measures might be attributed to the rapidly declining rate of CD sales that have marred the music industry since the general population discovered how to use the internet. In fact, it’s not out of the ordinary for an album to be relaunched after only a couple of months on the charts. This practice is seemingly justified by the addition of two or three new tracks aimed at inducing repeat purchase for only the most rabid of fans.

While we might expect such shameless profiteering from the music business, the tamer world of publishing is no innocent bystander either and is just as accustomed to producing questionable reworkings of cult classics to make a quick buck or two. Pride and Prejudice and Zombies is but one title in a series of zombie-fied classics that have purists reaching for their muskets. Presumably, Jane Austen’s estate approved Seth Grahame-Smith’s gory reinterpretation at some stage since Madame Austen is listed as a co-author.

The biggest change in Seth Grahame-Smith’s version of the classic is in diegesis. In his version, Darcy courts Elizabeth in an alternate universe in which the English countryside is plagued not by foxes, but the undead. Maybe the series represents an attempt to reconcile the prim and proper readers of Austen with fang-baring Twihards, that is, diehard fans of the Twilight series. In any case, this questionable repositioning seems to have paid off with a movie rumoured to be in the works. (As if we didn’t have enough versions of Pride and Prejudice already.)The pulsing activity of film franchises represents another means of cashing in on a long-existing narrative. Rather than pay for the rights to entirely new screenplays, why not just rip off and appropriate existing ones?

The continuation of many series is in some ways admirable. Twenty-two James Bond films have been released to date, with a new instalment on the immediate horizon. It’s clear that efforts have been made to update and reinvigorate the core narrative for a modern audience.  It’s also interesting to note that most long-running franchises revolve around (and are primarily targeted at) men. But, that’s a different discussion to be had in a different article.

While it’s easy to rattle off a list of franchises whose sequels and prequels dominate all-time box office lists, more often than not the law of diminishing returns applies. When a studio produces a successful movie, it’ll probably continue to release subsequent instalments until the box office numbers prompt the franchise to end with a whimper.

American Pie was released in 1999, with a sequel proving even more successful two years later. This year’s American Reunion, however – the fourth in the series – grossed $1 million less than the original, despite thirteen years of inflation. Familiarity here has apparently bred not only contempt, but also ignorance. Dragging a franchise out over any period of time is problematic. The original audience will likely grow and change, but if the franchise does so as well it is liable to accusations of ‘selling out’ or ‘not knowing its strengths’.

Of course, there’s a fine line between knowing your audience and going through the motions. Earlier this year, posters plastered across Eastern Avenue heralded the glorious reunion of S Club 7, the early-noughties juggernaut credited with chart-toppers like Don’t Stop Movin’ and Bring It All Back. The reality didn’t quite live up to this promise, and more closely resembled an RSL club tribute act than a true S Club Party. Nobody really wanted to see Bradley swing, and Rachel neither made an appearance nor did her thing. In fact, only three sevenths of the band made it to the Sunrise set, where they were joined by four dancers to make up the numbers. There’s something both tragic and cathartic about seeing the stars of yore squeezed into a costume 3 sizes too small, trying to hype a semi-invested audience into enjoying something they don’t remember all that well.

In order for yearning rather than yawning to be fostered, an appropriate period of absence should be enforced for franchises. Ewing told the Guardian that the prompts for a product’s initial demise “take time to heal”. Having rested Spiderman for a not-so-whopping five years, Marvel Entertainment this year brought the series back to the big screen. Prior to the release of The Amazing Spiderman, director Marc Webb assured fans and critics that his subject was ready for review. He told Empire magazine that there’s “something iconic about that character, but there is something also incredibly flexible that can withstand and benefit from different interpretations”. Audiences voted with their feet, however. Despite grossing a healthy $735 million, The Amazing Spiderman currently stands as the lowest-grossing Spiderman movie to date.

At the other end of the spectrum is Puberty Blues. The seminal Australian novel, released in 1979 and adapted into a cult film in 1981, lay dormant for about thirty years before finally being resurrected as a TV miniseries by Channel Ten this year. When given a wide berth, cross-media adaptations can be fascinating. Channel Ten’s series received rave reviews for the refreshing retrospective it provided on the now-denigrated Shire and its values. 

Over-saturation in any given time period, though, can be tiresome. Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes has been subject to two popular spin-offs series in recent years. The BBC’s television production has co-existed with a film franchise starring Robert Downey Jr. The two take quite different approaches in casting, setting and tone, but both play upon the same classic tales.

There’s no hard-and-fast rule regarding what should be left to the misty blur of memory, and what’s suitable to be wheeled out once again. The criteria tend to vary from one person to the next; it largely depends on whether you like your revivals to be tragic or triumphant. What you consider each category to constitute, and whether they’re mutually exclusive, is also important.

In any case, it looks as if we’re set to be privy to a whole lot more revivals. According to Ewing, bands, texts and films are increasingly undergoing a “revolving-door afterlife”. Fellow journalist Elvis Mitchell has gone so far as to claim, rather worryingly, that “nothing will go away ever again”. Bring on The Fast and the Furious 12: Hover Car Handover.

First semester woes and woahs

This appeared in the Youniversity (punny!) section of BULL Magazine's 6th edition for 2012.

I attended high school in a semi-rural area of Sydney’s north-west. Blue-tongue lizards rather than ibis birds made periodic visits to the bins across the bush-enveloped grounds. This relatively sheltered environment – some might say idyllic, others suffocating – now seems pretty far removed from the hub of activity that is the Camperdown campus.

For those living a considerable distance from uni, the biggest changes aren’t necessarily emotional or even academic, but pragmatic. A considerable percentage of my classmates chose to attend Macquarie University, perhaps primarily for its comparative proximity to their homes. Aeronautical engineering student Nicholas Robinson claims the most painful modification he’s had to make to be “the time I get out of bed”. The daily commute (if that word can be used to describe a 10-minute car journey) to high school might increase five-fold or more for some. For lucky students such as myself, three-day timetables (and four-day weekends) go some way in offsetting this travel time.

Less time at uni also has its disadvantages for first-years, however. Fewer contact hours – for students of the Arts faculty, for instance – mean rather limited chances to meet new people for those who don’t actively participate in societies and the like. According to counsellor Paul O’Donohue, students undertaking a more structured, intense degree such as Dentistry might find it “a bit easier to meet someone” given the amount of time they spend with the same people each week, and that faculty’s comparatively small yearly student intake of about 200 people. This number is dwarfed by the 2000 new students who join the Arts faculty annually.

Seeing someone for an hour or two each week isn’t all that conducive to getting to know them, with uni friendships often flourishing gradually. Not that this is necessarily a problem. Hopefully we’ve all now evolved from our Year 7 selves, and no longer spend too much time floundering to find someone to sit with at lunch. A majority of uni attendees already have some social base – be it from school or elsewhere – upon whom they can rely outside of their course.

Tertiary study also represents a departure from the sort of rote learning that characterises the HSC. A new focus is instead placed on what O’Donohue describes as “self-directed learning and engaged enquiry”. HSC Subjects like Extension 2 English and Extension History help soften this blow, with the early development of research and citation skills, but for many this type of work is relatively foreign. Of course, uni work is generally more enjoyable given its apparent specification. However, pleasure doesn’t necessarily equate to ease; King confesses that “at times it feels like I’m doing my HSC over and over again.”

First-years, often accustomed to over-achieving within a school context, may also struggle with their apparently average position within a tertiary sphere. Add to all this the unfortunate condition of Mac-lessness some students still suffer, and a degree of stress seems justified.

A sense of removal from years spent adhering to the routine of the school system can also skew our impressions of our time spent within its bounds. Nicholas Robinson says that the diversity of community and activities offered at uni has seen him become more “jaded about the rigorous nature of school life”. Similarly, First-year Media & Communications student Madeleine King embraces the sense of self-determination offered by university as “a lifestyle, rather than an institution”. It’s this sort of freedom that makes it “so much more fun than high school”.

No transition as significant as that from high school to uni is without difficulty of some sort. Of course, not all problems faced by wide-eyed first-years are all that serious. Uni life can present both pleasure and pain to recently-certified adults. As Robinson declares, “the best thing about uni is that there are two bars on campus. The worst thing is that there are two bars on campus.”

TED

This review was published in Edition 6 of BULL in 2012. It took up a whole page, even though it's less than 250 words! Wo wo wo what etc.

Try though it does to be something more, Ted is a fairly generic tale of choosing between a lover and a friend. Granted, the friend in question is a stuffed bear with a penchant for pot and swearing, but only one of those three characteristics really differentiates the film from the Judd Apatow ‘romps’ that are virtually a dime a dozen. 

The film marks a turning point for Family Guy creator Seth McFarlane. McFarlane not only voices the titular character, but also makes his feature-length directorial debut. Despite this apparent change, strong traces of his previous work are evident in the film’s smutty (albeit often enjoyable) humour. 

"How dare you give our movie just 3 stars!" etc.

At times, however, in-jokes can provide more confusion than laughs. A lack of knowledge of the 1980 film version of Flash Gordon proves detrimental. Allusions to the movie are scattered throughout, and a bizarre appearance by its star, Sam J. Jones adds to an apparently ‘hilarious’ motif that may be more baffling than entertaining for those not in the loop.

Regardless of such flaws, the film does have its moments. The animation of the titular bear is impressively seamless, and Mark Wahlberg and Mila Kunis display an obvious rapport.  At its best, the film is engaging, even genuinely shocking. A brilliant cameo by Norah Jones of ‘Don’t Know Why’ fame completely subverts her softly-spoken public persona with uproarious (if slightly unnerving) results. At its worst, however, Ted is predictable, bordering on crude, and overly long.

3/5

Where there's a Will...

This feature appeared in an edited incarnation in the fifth edition of BULL magazine published in 2012.

The continued presence of the British monarchy after countless centuries nonplusses many in today’s climate of constant political, technological and social change. So apart from the obvious and oft-trumpeted sense of continuity and unification its offers the Commonwealth, why and indeed how does the monarchy continue to be such a visible and powerful institution? Setting aside the political arguments surrounding the modern relevance of the monarchy in this country, it’s interesting to look at the institution’s efforts to remain so. It would appear that the royals are attempting to reposition themselves as holders of empathy rather than authority, with dwindling support for a republican reform in Australia (currently around 35%, according to Roy Morgan Research) suggesting this strategy to be a successful one.

Keeping abreast with pop culture!

The monarchy has recently made a string of efforts to associate itself with contemporary pop culture. Folk songstress Ellie Goulding played at the wedding reception of Kate and Prince Will, bolstering their street cred in a way Sir Elton John couldn’t have, and the Diamond Jubilee concert, featuring the likes of Jessie J, will.i.am and Kylie Minogue ensure a captive younger audience, with the pro-monarchy sentiment of such performers also implicit in their participation. Such events represent a move by the monarchy to continually keep up with changes in cultural sensibility. Lumping the British monarchy in with the Catholic Church as an institution unable to adapt to the 21^st century is lazy. When the Pope lets Ed Sheeran sing about drug use and prostitution to 10,000 pilgrims in St. Peter’s Square, let me know. Less directly, the monarchy retains a high visibility through texts concerned with the monarchy, its characters and the British class system. Downton Abbey, The Queen, The Other Boleyn Girl and Wolf Hall are just a few names which deal with such themes. Of course, fascination with fictional products doesn’t necessarily translate to support of the monarchy, but it does ensure that the institution is culturally ever-present.

While the monarchy has re-branded itself in order to relate to younger generations, much of its distinctiveness is still tied to tradition. In terms of symbolism, there’s little doubt that the monarchy’s continued production of pomp and ceremony is virtually unrivalled. Important royal events like the wedding of Kate and Prince Will, and the Diamond Jubilee are aesthetically unique and draw colossal viewing audiences not only due to their blue-blooded participants, but their sheer scale. The royal wedding served as a “manifestation of the perfect fairytale that a lot of people want”, according to UNSW student Sarah Cummings. And the Diamond Jubilee was a blaze of over-the-top, pleasant absurdity, described as “an array of formal fig, military splendour and dazzling headgear” by British journalist Mick Brown. Such events cause a rise in the visibility of the royals, as well as their approval ratings. Roy Morgan research conducted in the wake of the Diamond Jubilee shows that support for the monarchy has continued to follow a trend that has spanned well over a decade, rising to reach a 25-year high of around 58% approval. No doubt, such rises are partially down to nostalgia and spectacle. Whether these gains will be long-lasting, given the lack of similar spectacle on the horizon, is another question entirely.

Conservative media often wax lyrical about how the Queen and her matriarchal subjects serve as good role models. This argument is somewhat dubious given that we don’t actually know the family’s members all that well and some of what we do know, such as Prince Harry’s dalliance with a certain uniform, isn’t all that commendable from a politically correct point of view. However, as regular (and by regular I mean pretty much bi-weekly) articles in the Daily Mail attest to, the Queen and her reputed fashion protégé the Duchess of Cambridge are exemplars of thriftiness. They re-wear and re-work outfits they have been seen in many times before, with the Queen often resurrecting outfits which are decades old. In this respect alone, Liz is a far better role model than say, Lady Gaga or Victoria Beckham. Not to be outdone, the royal men have been doing their bit too. For the past 55 years, the Duke of Edinburgh’s eponymous leadership program and awards scheme has been a valuable experience for many young people, allowing them to gain crucial life skills. The conservation efforts of Prince Charles’ Rainforest Project have also recently been recognised when a rare breed of frog, hyloscirtus princecharlesi, was named after him. 

Despite their obvious privilege, the royals are somewhat constrained in ways you and I are not. Solo duties, often interspersed (as with Harry and William) with military training and operations, usually commence around the same age that an undergraduate student leaves university, with preparation from a young age. Such duties are explained by the monarchy’s official website as constituting “important work in the areas of public and charitable service”. This line of work seemingly continues until death, with 91 year-old Prince Philip continuing to fulfil a reduced quota of commitments – primarily ceremonial engagements and charity commitments - following a series of recent health scares. With the probable exception of Madonna, I can’t imagine anyone wanting to spend their twilight years on what has been described as a never-ending campaign trail, attempting to retain the approval of long-time supporters and win new fans. A considerable segment of the 2,000 official engagements undertaken by the royal family each year are partially concentrated on promoting the monarchy itself. However, another significant role undertaken by the family members is that of patron and benefactor. The attention and awareness drawn to public causes and charities by the family is of inestimable value. Of course, the work the royals do isn’t necessarily as hands on as those volunteers at your local soup kitchen, but it’s admirable all the same. 

Although it’s become the cliché of choice for every UK correspondent in the Australian media, the youngest generation of royals have breathed new life into the monarchy. Kate Middleton – the first commoner to marry a prince in close proximity to the throne in more than 350 years – has been largely responsible for this revitalisation. Her relationship with William has helped craft an image of the royals as, in the words of journalist Lanai Vasek, “more accepting recently of societal norms”. The Duke and now-Duchess’ cohabitation prior to marriage (a first for senior royals) represented what first year University of Sydney student Holly Parrington sees as the “slightly modern and laid-back approach” taken by family’s younger members. The couple are evidently popular, with a survey conducted by The Guardian and ICM finding William to be the British public’s preferred future monarch, receiving 48% of the vote to Charles’ 39%. Even non-royal Pippa Middleton has contributed to the rose of the new monarchical guard, becoming a tabloid fixture associated with scandal and a posterior that has received almost 250,000 ‘likes’ on Facebook. Our current monarch is renowned for her desire to remain somewhat distant from the press, but her grandchildren and their social circle have taken a rather different approach, regularly appearing in the (gasp!) social and gossip pages of tabloids all over the globe. Photos of Harry stumbling bleary-eyed from a nightclub, or jumping unprovoked and fully clothed into said nightclub’s pool, see the royal family normalised and humanised like never before, although such incidents often provoke disproportionate media scandal. Such unprecedented access to the royals ultimately repositions them as a figure of celebrity rather than royalty, and as is the case with all celebrities, it’s possible to extract pleasure from the fodder of gossip and glamour they provide without becoming directly invested in what they’re promoting, namely the institution of monarchism. Whether this repositioning strips the family of respect and makes them, as Parrington describes, “a slightly more ginger and freckly version of the Kardashians”, is a matter of opinion.

Although the monarchy’s return to prominence is closely linked to the ‘coming of age’ of the Queen’s grandchildren, the older members of the family have also taken on renewed public affection in recent years. Prince Charles, for years characterised as the catalyst for the demise of the People’s Princess and the bitter son waiting for his mother to shuffle off this mortal coil, has received something of an image revitalisation, now being seen as a jovial family man. The media has played a key role in this transformation, emphasising Charles’ close relationships with his sons and playing up his tribute to “mummy” at the Diamond Jubilee concert. In addition to this, the heir apparent has also proved that he is in possession of a sense of humour, recently fulfilling a lifelong dream of sorts by reading the weather for the BBC. Joking throughout the broadcast about the disappointingly wet forecast, Charles received press acclaim for the spot, proving that his mother doesn’t always reign on his parade.

There’s little doubt that fondness for the monarchy and its members also tends to stem from inherited affections. These personal (often nostalgic) attachments are less explicable than the aforementioned factors, but often more potent, trouncing logic, facts and figures. My strongest memories of my great-grandmother involve her delicately leafing through the glossy pages of Majesty magazine, keen to keep abreast with the goings on of the collective that remained a constant throughout her life. Her elation upon receiving recognition from the Queen of her century of life and community contribution sealed my personal appreciation for the institution, even if I know that common logic suggests my views are misguided.

It would seem that the new monarchy takes itself less serious than its earlier incarnations, and seems prepared – even eager - to move with cultural changes. Complacency on the part of the royals, then, probably won’t be the reason for any eventual demise of the monarchy. As much as many of us would enjoy seeing Charles helplessly bailing hay in some far-flung corner of his huge land holdings in Britain’s south-east as a private citizen, it’s possible to gain equal pleasure from the culture that is produced in the image of, and drawn upon to ensure the continued relevance of, the British monarchy, as well as the family itself.

There's a troll in the basement!

I believe they call her "Trollga".

An edited version of this 'article' featured in the Science and Technology seciton of BULL magazine's fifth issue for 2012.

If you participate in social networking, chances are you’ve fallen for a hoaxed celebrity death, and the online stakeholder to blame for the creation and dispersal of such swindles is the dreaded troll. Trolling involves the conscious, persistent antagonising of largely unsuspecting internet users, for the sake of one’s own pleasure and ego-building. The practice highlights the trusting nature of many social networkers, which has seen false news stories such as “Morgan Freeman has died! It’s true this time, I promise!” spread virally and covered by major news outlets.

Trolls have been traditionally confined to internet forums with limited scope in terms of subject matter and audience. For example, a typical troll stomping ground is online pop commentary where die-hard fans, or ‘stans’, of Godga (Lady Gaga), Beysus (Beyoncé) and The Holy Spearit (Britney Spears) make ideal targets. Makayla, a self-confessed stan, runs the Britney Spears fan blog I Wanna Troll. With her four-figure follower base, she aims to show her love for Britney with a dash of humour, even if it means participating “in serious stan wars”.

However, trolls don’t restrict themselves to pop culture. Devotees of everything from religious to political movements receive a ribbing on Twitter. @Jesus_M_Christ, @Queen_UK, and @Schapelle all reveal a commitment to getting thousands of followers fired up over serious, occasionally topical issues by challenging their personal beliefs and attitudes. The former of these accounts, for instance, states that “most of Noah's sins when he got to heaven involved bestiality”, providing a somewhat shocking re-evaluation of what remains for many Christians a sacred retelling. Similarly, @Queen_UK represents the British monarch as a gin-oholic who retains a deep hatred for Camilla Parker Bowles, Carole Middleton and Greece – far from the vision of diplomacy, pomp and circumstance perpetuated by the recent Diamond Jubilee.

Trolls are often fans of the very subjects they mock, illuminating the exaggerated identities online fandoms create by subverting them and exposing their fallibility. In this way, trolling is about bringing pseudo-mythical people down to a more human level. 

Such is the pervasiveness of the troll that the popular “trollface” has evolved to poke fun at the foibles of everyday life (think Sydney Uni Memes). With a simple copy and paste, a keyboard warrior can move up the internet food chain to the position of King Troll.

While the comical deconstruction of powerful individuals and institutions is relatively harmless, there’s a blurry line between trolling and cyberbullying. Makayla doesn’t like “to get personal,” but she has seen stan and troll wars descend into personal attacks.

Dedicated members of trolling collectives have, perhaps unwittingly, caused conflicts spilling over into the real world. For example, self-dubbed “/b/tards” on image sharing site 4Chan have received threats of violence, allegations of trading child pornography and a slew of custodial sentences.

Meanwhile, social Q&A platform Formspring applies the anonymity and frankness of trolling on a personal level to create what it calls a “forum for playful, authentic and natural conversations”. Formspring’s crooked reputation stems from the dominance of venomous messages on the website which have reportedly resulted in a number of teen suicides, including that of Jamey Rodemeyer, who received anonymous taunts regarding his sexuality and subsequently committed suicide last September. Formspring has taken some initiative in preventing a repeat of such outcomes by warning against the posting of “mean or hurtful” questions and allows users to block anonymous messages. Whether anyone will take heed of these warnings is uncertain.

A 2006 study conducted by U.S. organisation Fight Crime estimated that more than 13 million American youths had experienced cyberbullying. With Formspring only launching in 2009 and Twitter achieving mainstream popularity around 2008, the popularity of social networking has since grown exponentially and presumably troll-ish behaviour has too.

Trolls come in all forms and potencies, ranging from your “friendly, neighbourhood troll” to “hardcore troublemaker”, but if you find yourself under attack, just remember your mother’s wise words regarding the stolen roll-ups and nicknames – they’re only looking for a reaction.

Rumer - Boys Don't Cry (abum review)

This review appeared in the fifth edition of BULL published in 2012 magazine.

With Boys Don’t Cry, British songstress Rumer eschews the pitfalls of the notoriously dangerous sophomore album by taking an unusual approach: releasing a set of obscure 70’s covers.  If your parents are looking to relieve days gone by, they might be better off with Rod Stewart’s American Songbook Volume 17, unless said parents are veritable 70’s aficionados. Evidently not one for taking what might have been a more commercially obvious route, Rumer covers a smattering of forgotten album tracks, middling successes and a sole US Top 5 hit– Hall & Oates’ ‘Sara Smile’. Thus, for all intents and purposes Boys Don’t Cry serves the same purpose (for most listeners, at least) as an album of original tracks would.

Rumer is in possession of an incredibly smooth voice, and seems comfortable in her restraint. She graciously remains true to the melodies of the tracks rather than caterwauling all over them, proving to be a refreshing counterpoint to the barrage of female vocalists who feel they need to constantly put their skills on show. An obvious word to describe the album is ‘pleasant’, but that doesn’t quite cover the simplistic, entrancing beauty of Rumer’s vocals. In fact, I dare say Rod Stewart can wait.