How The Light Gets In 2013

The festival of philosophy and music returns to Hay.

This year, beginning on 23 May, the annual How The Light Gets In festival returns to Hay-on-Wye, once again providing audiences with the chance to engage with life's big questions: Why are we here? What is love? Do we need religion? Do we undervalue the imagination?

All these ideas and many more will be pondered and pursued over the course of the festival, interwoven with music and comedy acts. The New Statesman’s own Jonathan Derbyshire will be appearing, chairing debates on topics such as "Is Religion Dangerous?" and "Errors, Lies and Adventure", an exploration of the need to lie in politics.

Here are five highlights from this year's festival.

Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly

10pm Fri 24 May, International Hall

The born-and-bred Essex boy Sam Duckworth has always been outspoken about his political views. Whether he’s crooning about the everyday rigmarole of British life or humming his anti-BNP ballad Glass Houses, you can guarantee he’ll have you nodding along to his unique acoustic drawl.

More Than Equal

(featuring George Galloway MP, Minette Marrin and Peter Tatchell)

2:30pm Mon 27 May, Globe Hall

With liberal attitudes towards ethnic minorities at an all-time high, are identity politics irrelevant? Or are etnic minorities simply assimilating into society, when they should be demanding more from Britain? Bradford MP George Galloway, Sunday Times Columnist Minette Marrin and activist Peter Tatchell discuss what the future holds for the smaller social groups in our society.

The Sexualisation of Society

(featuring Diane Abbot MP)

3pm Mon 27 May, Ring

As questions loom over the legality of internet pornography and stories about women suffering eating disorders have become a mainstay of the tabloids, Diane Abbot takes aim at the hyper-sexualised world in which we live and its effects on the young.

At World’s Edge

(featuring A S Byatt, Terry Eagleton and Terry Pratchett)

4pm Sunday 2 June, International Tent

Fantasy tales are often seen as amusing pastimes, whimsical adventures to be forgotten when the pages are shut. But is there more significance to these stories? Could they be a key element in the perception of our own world? To discuss these matters, novelists Terry Pratchett and A S Byatt join literary theorist Terry Eagleton.

The End of the University?

(featuring Martin Bean, Leonidas Donskis, Maurice Fraser)

12pm Sunday 2 June, International Tent

The internet has changed everything; from shutting down video rental stores to flipping the music industry on its head, no-one can deny its reach. But with the ever-growing number of learning resources available, free of charge, how can modern universities compete and, eventually, will they be outmoded? Open University Vice-Chancellor Martin Bean, LSE political theorist Maurice Fraser and Lithuanian politician Leonidas Donskis think about what the future holds.

How The Light Gets In runs from Thursday 23 May to Sunday 2 June.

For full details of events and tickets, click here.

Second-hand books for sale in Hay-on-Wye (photograph: Getty Images)
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Will playing a farting corpse allow Daniel Radcliffe to finally shake off his Hogwarts associations?

Radcliffe is dead good in Swiss Army Man – meaning he is both good, and dead. Plus: Deepwater Horizon.

Actors who try to shake off a clean-cut ­image risk looking gimmicky or insincere – think of Julie Andrews going topless in SOB, or Christopher Reeve kissing Michael Caine in Deathtrap. Daniel Radcliffe has tried to put serious distance between himself and Hogwarts in his choice of adult roles, which have included Allen Ginsberg (in Kill Your Darlings) and an FBI agent going undercover as a white supremacist (Imperium), but it is with the macabre new comedy Swiss Army Man that he stands the best chance of success. He’s good in the film. Dead good. He has to be: he’s playing a flatulent corpse in a moderate state of putrefaction. If ever there was a film that you were glad wasn’t made in Odorama, this is it.

The body washes up on an island at the very moment a shipwrecked young man, Hank (Paul Dano), is attempting to hang himself. He scampers over to the corpse, which he nicknames Manny, and realises he could use its abundant gases to propel himself across the ocean. Once they reach another shore and hide out in the woods, Hank discovers all sorts of uses for his new friend. Cranked open, the mouth dispenses endless quantities of water. The teeth are sharp enough to shave with. A spear, pushed deep into Manny’s gullet, can be fired by pressing down on his back, thereby turning him into an effective hunting weapon.

On paper, this litany of weirdness reads like a transparent attempt to manufacture a cult film, if that term still has any currency now that every movie can claim to have a devoted online following. The surprising thing about Swiss Army Man is that it contains a robust emotional centre beneath the morbid tomfoolery. It’s really a buddy movie in which one of the buddies happens to have expired. That doesn’t stop Manny being a surprisingly lively companion. He talks back at his new friend (“Shall I just go back to being dead?” he huffs during an argument), though any bodily movements are controlled by Hank, using a pulley system that transforms Manny into a marionette.

The gist of the film is not hard to grasp. Only by teaching Manny all the things he has forgotten about life and love can the depressed Hank reconnect with his own hope and humanity. This tutelage is glorious: improbably ambitious DIY models, costumes and sets (including a bus constructed from branches and bracken) are put to use in play-acting scenes that recall Michel Gondry at his most inspired. If only the screenplay – by the directors, Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert – didn’t hammer home its meanings laboriously. Manny’s unembarrassed farting becomes a metaphor for all the flaws and failings we need to accept about one another: “Maybe we’re all just ugly and it takes just one person to be OK with that.” And maybe screenwriters could stop spelling out what audiences can understand perfectly well on their own.

What keeps the film focused is the tenderness of the acting. Dano is a daredevil prone to vanishing inside his own eccentricity, while Radcliffe has so few distinguishing features as an actor that he sometimes seems not to be there at all. In Swiss Army Man they meet halfway. Dano is gentler than ever, Radcliffe agreeably deranged. Like all good relationships, it’s a compromise. They make a lovely couple.

What to say about Deepwater Horizon? It’s no disaster as a disaster movie. Focusing on the hows and whys of the most catastrophic accident in US oil drilling history, when an explosion consumed an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico in 2010, it doesn’t stint on blaming BP. Yet it sticks so faithfully to the conventions of the genre – earthy blue-collar hero (Mark Wahlberg), worried wife fretting at home (Kate Hudson), negligent company man (John Malkovich) – that familiarity overrides suspense and outrage.

The effects are boringly spectacular, which is perhaps why the most chilling moment is a tiny detail: a crazed seagull, wings drenched in oil, flapping madly on the deck long before the fires start. As a harbinger of doom, it’s only mildly more disturbing than Malkovich’s strangulated accent. 

Ryan Gilbey is the New Statesman's film critic. He is also the author of It Don't Worry Me (Faber), about 1970s US cinema, and a study of Groundhog Day in the "Modern Classics" series (BFI Publishing). He was named reviewer of the year in the 2007 Press Gazette awards.

This article first appeared in the 29 September 2016 issue of the New Statesman, May’s new Tories