Latest Star Trek poster...

...courtesy of Empire. I can barely wait!

Emperor Cowen sans clothes

Will the Government try to censor me now too?
Cartoon courtesy of Caricatures Ireland

Now who were the last crowd to get so upset about a satirical cartoon? Oh yeah, that's them...

850,000 Euro a year. That is all.

Oh no Pat. Oh no.

Lastly...

...just to round off my BSG-themed buzz this evening, that iconic shot of Jamie Bamber from season two. Lee God-Dama!

The last frackin' episode

I'm just about to start watching the series finale to this amazing, astounding drama series. It's been a helluva ride. GET THE DVDs NOW PEOPLE!

More coverage here and here in The New York Times no less. Plus get the great Mary McDonnell's take on the whole thing.

What's more, read about what happened when the cast visited the UN...

Good piece entitled 'BSG: Immersion therapy for the post-9/11 world'

And here's that piece from The Guardian earlier this week arguing that BSG is even better than The Wire - high praise indeed, seeing as the latter has been consistently hailed as the greatest TV drama of all time.

Slammin'

I'm no expert by any means, but that was frickin' awesome. Is this our Euro '88/Italia '90 moment of joy in these despairing times?

Flasher

Kinnear and I tell ya

Interview with Greg Kinnear in Day and Night in today's Independent

Greg Kinnear is a laid-back guy. In fact, when I first meet him, he's so laid-back that he's practically horizontal. Walking into the suite in London's Soho Hotel, I find the actor dressed casually in jeans and a black zip-up top, lying back comfortably in his chair, boot-bedecked feet propped up on the table, his face hidden behind a copy of the latest edition of Vanity Fair.

Continue here.

Natasha Richardson

So shocking. God help Liam Neeson and the two boys.

Picture of the day

Barry O'Bama

Irish Simpsons

Bart Simpson will have to swap his trademark catchphrase 'Ay Caramba!' for 'Begosh and Begorrah' tomorrow when the Simpsons officially touch down here for the first ever episode based in Ireland.

The episode entitled In the Name of the Grandfather will see Homer and Grampa travel to Dublin, the Giant's Causeway, Blarney Castle and the Guinness Brewery; encountering special guest stars such as Kenneth Branagh, Colm Meaney, and Once Oscar winners Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova.

Continue here.

I saw the episode in the Lighthouse Cinema this morning (attended by Nancy Cartwright, Al Jean and James L Brooks) and it's a cracker (craic-er?). Look out for the Yup-rechauns!

American Idol: Let your queer flag fly

Good article in the LA Times last week about why American Idol needs to come out of the closet.

Culchie culture

Welcome to Culch.ie

All others Palin comparison to our Mary

Calamity Coughlan - aka Sorcha Palin - launching a new McDonalds training centre. What PR genius in her department thought this picture would be a good idea?

Cool to be kind

My piece from today's Independent. To quote the great Ja'mie King: "That's so random!"

Movie poster mash-up

You gotta love these, courtesy of Empire.

Features...

Two features of mine in today's Weekend magazine in the Irish Independent...

-The story of the Moran family and how their daughter overcame leukemia (written by my identical twin brother 'Michael White')

- Anna Nolan and I both wrote our coming out stories for today's magazine. Mine is below. Click on Anna's name for her's.

The legendary drag artist Charles Pierce once quipped: "I'd rather be black than gay because when you're black you don't have to tell your mother". Like many other gay people, I grappled for a long time with the question of if, when and how I should come out to my parents and family.

I didn’t do it for quite a while. From age 18 on, I spent four years coming out to various friends, gradually shaking off the fears and inhibitions that had long kept me down, in every sense of the word.

By the time I did tell my clan, I was well rehearsed. I was in my early 20s then, out on Dublin’s lively scene, and making up for lost time. I just had to wait for the right opening to bring the family in on the new arrangement.

For me, that opening came on a Good Friday five years ago. I was home from college for the Easter break without a penny to my name, so I was spending my evening watching the Late Late Show with my mam and dad. My mother, sly minx that she is, had been goading me for quite some time at that point, trying to get me to confess all. She just knew. I suspect mothers always do, but there’s still a big difference between knowing and knowing. During a commercial break, she turned to me, with a knowing glint in her eye and asked the killer question: “So Dec, have you a girlfriend at the moment?”

I froze. I could fob her off with some line, as I had done for years. But something in me just clicked that evening. I thought to myself, ‘I’m 23 years of age and here I am about to talk make believe with my parents’. So I turned down the volume on the TV, looked at both of them, and said: “No, I don’t have a girlfriend [here I paused for dramatic effect]. And I never will because I’m gay”.

They both just nodded and didn’t say anything for a moment. I don’t think they were shocked at the news – just shocked that I had actually told them.

Then my mother, bless her, came out with her own admission and people don’t believe me when I tell them this, but I swear it’s true. “I knew you were gay, and I always knew you would be,” she told me mysteriously. “Why’s that?” I asked?

She continued: “When I was pregnant with you, I didn’t know what sex you were, and I prayed and hoped you would be a girl. I was convinced you were going to be. Then when you were born, and you turned out to be a boy, I said to your father, ‘I bet he’ll turn out to be gay now because I so wanted him to be a girl’.”

I just burst out laughing. I wanted to hug her for inadvertently breaking whatever tension there was in that moment. My dad simply said he wanted me to be happy. It was all very calm, just as I had always hoped it would be. By the time I told them I was confident enough in myself to be able to reassure them and not cause any panic. I do firmly believe that in most cases you can set the tone when coming out. If you’re not stressed or panicky, then those you’re telling won’t be either.

In my case I underestimated all of my family’s reactions. At least one of my brothers seemed genuinely hurt that I hadn’t confided in him. I always assumed my family would be upset if I told them. It had never even occurred to me that they could be upset for not telling them.

I know I’m lucky. Not everyone is in the same position. Some Irish gay men and women never come out, sometimes by choice, sometimes by necessity. I don’t judge them for it. It’s an intensely personal decision, and if a person feels that they are not in a position to confidently neutralise any fears and prejudices their loved ones might have, then perhaps they’re right to stay quiet until such time as they’re ready.

Looking back, I was so afraid my parents and family would look at me differently, think less of me, be ashamed of me. That hasn’t been the case. They mightn’t fully understand it all, but that’s fine. I know, ultimately, they have my back, even if they don’t always say it.

Take my dad for example. My mam told me recently about something he said to her when they were on holidays in Portugal two years ago. They had gotten to know what my mam describes as a “gorgeous, friendly young waiter” who served them every night in their resort restaurant. On their last night dad said to my mother: “Wouldn’t he make a nice boyfriend for Declan?” I was deeply touched by that. I guess parents can still surprise us as much as we do them.

Sometimes I can’t believe I stayed quiet for so long, but it’s what made sense to me at the time. Today I see the generation directly after mine coming out younger than ever before, which can only be a good thing. There’s a burgeoning confidence that allows gay people to realistically focus on the possibilities as much as the challenges. Why settle for a closet when you can have the world?

*Gay Switchboard Dublin, 01 872 1055 (Mon-Thurs, 7.30-9.30pm)

Prime Time f*ck up!

Classic blooper material. Reminder: this all went out live last night. Somehow

Fair play...

Judd Apatow's favourites pose for Vanity Fair. I particularly like the one of Seth Rogen as Frida Kahlo.

Computer Tan

Very good. Stick with it until the end - it's worth it...

Public Enemies poster and trailer

Excitement.

About frickin' time

Energy prices set to go down. I don't know about you, but I've been bled dry by the ESB for the past few months. And on that note, I see the price is set to drop by 10 per cent. But it must have increased by at least 30 per cent in the last year or two alone? So we're still being fleeced.

As long as a committed gay couple can't get married...

Maybe I'm in a crabby mood this Monday evening, but does anyone else find the concept of this competition repugnant? And inappropriate? And offensive?

Gay people, in particular, should be up in arms, not to mention the opponents of gay marriage, like the Iona Institute, who are out to protect marriage from the apparent degradation that same-sex couples are seeking to bring to the revered institution. I think it's pretty clear just from this competition, and a similar one conducted by 98FM back in 2004, that the straights are doing a pretty good job of that themselves.

For doesn't this tacky gimmick not demonstrate a blatant disregard for and cheapening of the institution of marriage?

A gay couple that have been in a meaningful, loving, deep-rooted relationship, perhaps for years or even decades, like Drs Katherine Zappone and Anna Louise Gilligan, will have to drag their private life through the courts, at their own expense, in order to receive the legal and formal entitlements that were so frivolously granted to two complete strangers, who will marry, essentially, on the basis of a blind date.

Without even knowing each others' favourite colour or their middle names, the winning couple can completely exploit a legal avenue denied a loving gay couple.

There was a mute reaction to 98FM’s prize a few years back, and there has been no objection to this prize either, so law-makers and the Irish public should have no problem with allowing gay people to formalise their relationships with a civil ceremony.

After all, if two total strangers can just avail of the option, with no regard for the subsequent taxation and legal consequences, or social ramifications, and all to zero public outrage or consternation, what’s the hold-up with granting that right to a committed gay couple?

Do I have a point? Maybe someone from the opposing side could respond. I'm writing to Iona as well as MarriagEquality to get their views on this.

Stalking Connie

So there I was in a random Rite Aid pharmacy on Santa Monica Blvd in LA two weeks ago, when I noticed that the person in front of me was Connie Britton, the monumentally talented star - nay, goddess - from the brilliant TV drama series Friday Night Lights. She was a real lady, especially considering I followed her up the street for 20 minutes before I talked to her.

Welcome...

...to Eoin Butler.

Broadband of brothers

My piece from the Independent last Friday on the drama/trauma of trying to get broadband installed.

I moved apartment recently and, for the first time ever, it was a breeze. I boasted to one and all about how my move was totally seamless, hassle-free and a general festival of sunshine, lollipops and rainbows.

That, dear reader, was a prime example of what the Greeks would call hubris: the pride before the fall. Because just like one of those poor chumps in a Greek tragedy, I forgot that the gods mock us for their sport. And the gods, in my case, were broadband providers.

Continue here.

UnaRocked

So long Una! You'll be missed. Sies.

(I've been out of blogging action for the past week so a bit behind the rest of the world!)

Watch this space

My feature on the movie Watchmen, which is released nationwide this Friday. Article originally appeared in Day and Night in the Irish Independent on February 27.

Matthew Goode is positively giddy about his role in the long-awaited movie Watchmen - so much so that he’s even proudly talking about it to random strangers in airports. I know this for a fact, because I was one such random stranger.

There I was on a Tuesday morning, sitting in the departure lounge in Heathrow, reading my copy of Watchmen while waiting to board my flight to Los Angeles for the movie’s promotional junket, when this guy sitting opposite me asks: “Are you enjoying it?”

“Yes, very much,” I reply, obvlious. “Have you read it too?” He smiles and replies: “Well, I play the character of Ozymandias in the movie.” Bewildered, I stare at him for a moment, before embarrassment sets in, and I start srcambling through my brain for his name. Just as I’m about to stammer something in reply, Matthew Goode hops up off his seat and joins the queue to board the plane.

Two days later, Goode, sporting scruffy stubble and clad in casual shirt, jeans and a beany hat, is just as excited, bouncing into a hotel room in the Hilton in Beverly Hills. He sits briefly in his chair, before he jumps back up, grabs a cookie off a nearby refreshments tray, and heads towards the terrace.

“I’m going to be a bit cheeky and have a sneaky fag before we start,” he says, and for the next three minutes, he leans out of the window, puffing into the glorious LA sunshine, all while gabbing excitedly about his girlfriend back home in London who is about to give birth (“to my baby, which is frightening”) and what it was like to “suck face” with Colin Firth for three weeks while making the forthcoming A Single Man (“I loved every minute of it”).

The 30-year-old British actor has every right to be this cock-a-hoop. His role as the charismatic billionaire Adrian Veidt (aka Ozymandias) in the big screen adaptation of Alan Moore and Dave Gibbon’s iconic graphic novel is Goode’s first foray into the world of mega-budget blockbusters – and this is a doozy of a one to be associated with.

First published as a series of 12 comics in 1986-87, before being edited together into a grapic novel that later made Time magazine’s list of the best books of the twentieth century, Watchmen is set in an dystopian, alternative America in 1985, where a draconian government headed by Richard Nixon (entering his fourth term on the back of winning the Vietnam war) has outlawed once-beloved costumed superheroes from acting as vigilantes.

When one such retired hero, The Comedian (Jeffrey Dean Morgan), is brutally killed, his former comrade, the masked Rorschach (Jackie Earl Haley), takes it on himself to solve the murder, assembling the reluctant ex-crew of Watchmen to help him, including billionaire Ozymandias (Goode), the Night Owl (Patrick Wilson), Silk Spectre (Malin Ackerman) and, the only one with real superpowers, the atomic, blue-skinned Dr Manhattan (Billy Crudup).

It’s a complex, multi-layered, uncompromising graphic novel, and the movie (which was 20 years in the making) is suprisingly faithful to the source. While that will no doubt please the original’s fanboys, it carries the risk of alienating the uniniated or the moviegoers expecting an easily-accessible Spiderman-esque franchise.

“It is a concern,” Goode says. “It’s such a visual feast, and made with so much affection for the source, that I can guarantee that there will be people who come out saying, ‘I f*cking hated it, I didn’t understand it’, but hopefully that will encourage other newcomers to see it and make up their own minds.”

As he speaks, his co-star in the movie, Billy Crudup, come into the room. Classically handsome (he wouldn’t look out of place on the set of Mad Men), the tanned and relaxed Crudup jokingly throws his eyes up to heaven as Goode finishes his point, lunges for more cookies off the tray, and nips back out for another cigarette. “Kids,” he quips.

Crudup, an award-winning stage actor who has made an impressive leap into movies with roles in Almost Famous, Stage Beauty and The Good Shepherd, is virtually unrecognisable on screen, disguised as he is under heavy CGI to affect Dr Manhattan’s atomic glow and God-like physique.

Indeed, the character of Manhattan is all set to become an usual sex symbol, especially as he is frequently seen on screen fully nude, his impressive, er, instrument hanging out for all to see. Crudup smiles as I raise the topic. “This is a character with enormous power who refuses to accept the social constraints of a culture he couldn’t give a crap about,” the 40-year-old says.

“What’s really fun about it now is observing how people can’t really deal with his nudity. I would say that this topic has occupied 40 per cent of all interviews I’ve done for this movie. Sociologically I find that really interesting, not the least of which because the penis itself is fabricated.”

Ah so, it’s not modelled to scale? “I’m just saying that, like the rest of Dr Manhattan, it’s fabricated,” he replies with a smile. “It’s interesting that this movie has some pretty pornographic violence, and themes of holocaust and doomsday, and yet it’s all about the blue dong.”

At that point Crudup is whisked off, and in comes the strapping Jeffrey Dean Morgan, best known for his role as heart patient Denny Duqette on TV sensation Grey’s Anatomy, and for wooing Hilary Swank with a dodgy Irish brogue in PS I Love You.

“I was very conscious of that accent during filming PS,” he later tells me. “It was a challenge, but I had a great time making it. I filmed and stayed in Wicklow. Man, I could live there. I loved it.”

Dressed in a black suit, with open-necked white shirt, and bedecked in several silver skull rings and blingtastic bracelets, Morgan is sporting a grey-flecked beard, which seems to disappoint two of his adoring female fans in the press corp. “I’ve been off for the past month, so this is me au natural,” he explains in his deep voice, lazily leaning back in his chair.

The role of The Comedian couldn’t be farther from Morgan’s hitherto nice-guy screen persona. In Watchmen, the 42-year-old plays a ruthless, government-sanctioned killer and would-be rapist, who thinks nothing of shooting dead a Vietnamese woman carrying his own child. Morgan’s devoted Denny Duquette brigade are in for a real shock.

“Oh I reckon those fans are just going to have to live with it,” he laughs. “Like Watchmen, Grey’s has its own fans who are very specific and they feel very protective of the characters. It will be interesting to see those worlds collide. But I think a lot of those fans wont see it because they will know what kind of movie this is, and what kind of badass The Comedian is, and realise that it’s not their thing.”

Morgan will playing another villain later this year, when he reunites with Hilary Swank for the thriller The Resident, one of five movies he has signed on for since wrapping Watchmen. “I like to work,” he states. “I spent 20 years not working and trying to get work, so I’m not going to complain. I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

With that, Matthew Goode sneaks back into the room. I ask him about his forthcoming romcom Leap Year, which will see him filming in Ireland alonsgide red-hot red-head Amy Adams. “I still don’t understand why anyone wanted me, a British guy, to play an Irishman,” he laughs. “It must be because [Michael] Fassbender and the boys are very busy at the moment. It’s due to be filmed in Dingle and Dublin in the summer.”

As he moves to leave, I bring up our airport encounter. “Oh f*ck yeah,” he exclaims. “Afterwards I thought to myself, ‘What a dick. Did I just boast to a total stranger that I’m in that movie’. But I just thought it was so cool that someone was there in front of me reading Watchmen, I had to say something. That’s wicked. Maybe I’ll see on the flight back.”

“Something tells me we’ll be sitting in different sections of the plane,” I say back to him. Goode just laughs as he exits the room, too much of a sound gent to say what no doubt must have crossed his mind: ‘Too bloody right, mate. Too bloody right.’

Who’s who in Watchmen:

The Comedian: Anti-anti-hero and government-owned killer, brutally murdered in opening scene.

Ozymandias: Former ‘mask’ who made billions corporatising his superhero image.

Rorschach: Pyschotic but oddly moral vigilante with moving-inkblot mask

Night Owl II: Nerdy, flabby ornithologist who finds his wings once in costume.

Silk Spectre I: Retired, ageing hero, mother of Laurie Jupiter aka Silk Spectre II

Silk Spectre II: Lyra-clad scientist; lover of Dr Manhattan

Dr Manhattan: Formerly 1950s scientist Jon Osterman transformed into blue-toned superman by freak lab accident