SKY MOO-VIES

With the festival season looming in Auld Reekie, it’s probably not the best time to flit back to Paisley. There’ll be no more fun directing shivering Spaniards to public toilets when they ask the way to Arthur’s Seat. No more rubbish chat-up lines from the likes of Barry and his mate Colin from Wolverhampton here on a stag weekend. No more sponsored cow-verts (see above) littering the capital’s streets or hatchet-faced matrons elbowing you in the knicker department of Jenners. And saddest of all, no more Harvey Nicks.

One of the best things I saw recently was a tourist sign opposite the Marbella Holiday Village otherwise known as the Scottish Parliament building. Under ‘Places to Visit’ some wag had scrawled the word ‘Glasgow’, proof of the ongoing rivalry between the two cities, with one renowned for history, architecture and culture, the other known for, well, shopping. Which poses a question, because with all the talk of ‘cultural entitlement’ in political circles, who’s really calling the shots about the kind of culture on offer?

Among the upcoming fests is the Edinburgh International Film Festival, which launches its programme next week. The details are sketchy, but according to the EIFF website, it is -

"recognised as a place to find new, important, international work"

No mention of British films then, new or important. Unless it’s got Julie Walters in it (Wah-Wah, Driving Lessons). The only noteworthy Scottish film, Red Road, won't feature on the list, thanks to distributor, Verve, who thinks playing Edinburgh could damage the film’s UK box potential – on how many screens is that? There’s optimism for you. Didn’t Young Adam play the EIFF a couple of years back only to be released in cinemas a week or so later? If anyone knows how hard it is to compete with Hollywood, surely it’s a two-bit British distributor. Or are they planning a major PR splash, with an Empire front cover and 400 prints? Unlikely. Did the film’s investors forget to read the small print when they condemned Red Road to a one week run in 20 arthouses?

So what can filmgoers expect to see at Fountain Park this year? A couple of Korean capers and a few Sundance leftovers? Probably. At eight quid a time, mind, popcorn not included.

What does this tell us about cultural entitlement? Because where film’s concerned it looks to me like it’s in the grubby hands of minor London film distributors, a greedy multiplex chain and a bunch of programmers trying to turn a few scrappy pictures into an ‘eclectic’ programme for discerning cinephiles. Me, I’m sticking with Sky Moo-vies.