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Gareth von Kallenbach (980 KP) rated T2 Trainspotting (2017) in Movies
Jul 12, 2019
The first time I saw Trainspotting was my senior year of high school. At the time, I knew that I wanted to get involved in film, and I really did for about ¾ of a year after I graduated. I looked at movies for their artistry and cinematography even at a young age. I was a band geek, so music was also things I would love about movies. I was deep for a 17-year-old, or so I thought any way. But I explain this to you so you don’t think that I loved this movie simply because of the drug use or humor it presented. I have always been of the mind to find something I like about a movie, watch it for what it is, and try to just find the enjoyment value (I know, weird coming from a film reviewer). I didn’t even have to try for Trainspotting. It was the complete package, and ground breaking. It also introduced me to Ewan McGregor, who is one of my favorite actors. I loved the movie so much, I bought Irvine Welsh’s book that the movie was based on of the same title, Trainspotting, which I highly recommend simply for the fact that it’s written in phonetic Scottish. I never picked up Porno, the literary sequel to Trainspotting, but I hear it is bizarre and will need to pick it up, but not because of this movie. I’ll explain in a moment.
Naturally, when the announcement was made for a second Trainspotting movie, I was both excited and terrified at the same time. The first was so good, why did Hollywood need to ruin it with a sequel that has a bigger budget. What was promising was that it was announced that the entire cast of characters (that survived from the first film) would be back, including Diane (Kelly MacDonald). But it’s been 20 years. Typically, when you see sequels come out even after only 10 years, the whole film seems a contrite, forced replication of the first. Hell, look at all the criticism for the Hangover films being exactly that, and they were only a few years apart. Whether the script feels forced just for the sake of a sequel, or the actors are trying too hard to be the character they played many years prior, it never quite works. So, as we neared the release date, I was getting more and more weary of seeing the film. Then, the trailer dropped.
Damn the trailer looked good. And I will tell you, the movie did not fall into the trap of forced sequels. The main cast came back and played the characters perfectly. Not as they were, but as the people they grew to be over the 20-year period. The plot was fun and pointless, with all of the same charm as its predecessor. I saw the movie with fellow SKNR staffer Joshua Aja, and we had a pretty good conversation following the film. We both came to the same conclusion, that neither of us could remember the last time we saw a film that just that good.
So now to the actual meat of the review itself. What was the movie about? Well, I won’t give away too much, but I will give you a quick recap of the events leading up to this film. Basically, do you remember the end of Trainspotting? Renton (Ewan McGregor), Spud (Ewen Bremner), Sick Boy (Jonny Lee Miller), and Begbie (Robert Carlyle) had successfully pulled off a heist, and Renton was making off with the money while everyone slept, except Spud of course who saw Renton leaving but didn’t say anything. As a result, Renton left Spud’s share of the cash for him in a locker. Okay; all caught up.
T2 Trainspotting picks up 20 years later. Renton comes back to Scotland because his mother passed away, he ends up reuniting with Spud, and eventually Sick Boy, who we now know by his real name, Simon. Begbie is in prison because, well… he’s Begbie, but he doesn’t stay there long. Tempers fly, old feelings flare, and not every reunited moment is met with glee. But soon enough, Renton, Simon and Spud are drawn into old habits, though not old drugs, and start to build money up to open a ‘sauna’ (read: undercover brothel) for Simon’s girlfriend, Veronika (Angela Nedyalkova). It’s not long before Begbie shows up and starts mucking things up leading to a suspenseful conclusion between Renton, Simon and Begbie.
That’s all I can say. There was an excellent use of the history from the first film, and of course we get another fantastic ‘Choose Life’ speech from Renton. The soundtrack, while not quite as good as the first, still holds its own very well. And be sure to look for the Bowie tribute, since it was he who helped Danny Boyle obtain a lot of music rights on the cheap for the first film. And, you will find Spud’s writings throughout the movie to be lifted, verbatim, from the Trainspotting by Irvine Welsh. But what’s interesting, is that there is not a lot that relates this film to the literary sequel, Porno. Much of the plot of this film is taken from, or at least inspired by, parts of the book that were not used in the first film. That combined with some new writing and storytelling from Irvine Welsh and John Hodge.
Bottom line: if you liked the Trainspotting even in the slightest, you will absolutely enjoy T2 Trainspotting. A phenomenal job by cast, crew, and writers, and an excellent soundtrack will leave you wanting a trilogy. This is only the third film I have given a perfect score to in my 7 years of reviewing films, and it is well deserved. Go see this movie.
Naturally, when the announcement was made for a second Trainspotting movie, I was both excited and terrified at the same time. The first was so good, why did Hollywood need to ruin it with a sequel that has a bigger budget. What was promising was that it was announced that the entire cast of characters (that survived from the first film) would be back, including Diane (Kelly MacDonald). But it’s been 20 years. Typically, when you see sequels come out even after only 10 years, the whole film seems a contrite, forced replication of the first. Hell, look at all the criticism for the Hangover films being exactly that, and they were only a few years apart. Whether the script feels forced just for the sake of a sequel, or the actors are trying too hard to be the character they played many years prior, it never quite works. So, as we neared the release date, I was getting more and more weary of seeing the film. Then, the trailer dropped.
Damn the trailer looked good. And I will tell you, the movie did not fall into the trap of forced sequels. The main cast came back and played the characters perfectly. Not as they were, but as the people they grew to be over the 20-year period. The plot was fun and pointless, with all of the same charm as its predecessor. I saw the movie with fellow SKNR staffer Joshua Aja, and we had a pretty good conversation following the film. We both came to the same conclusion, that neither of us could remember the last time we saw a film that just that good.
So now to the actual meat of the review itself. What was the movie about? Well, I won’t give away too much, but I will give you a quick recap of the events leading up to this film. Basically, do you remember the end of Trainspotting? Renton (Ewan McGregor), Spud (Ewen Bremner), Sick Boy (Jonny Lee Miller), and Begbie (Robert Carlyle) had successfully pulled off a heist, and Renton was making off with the money while everyone slept, except Spud of course who saw Renton leaving but didn’t say anything. As a result, Renton left Spud’s share of the cash for him in a locker. Okay; all caught up.
T2 Trainspotting picks up 20 years later. Renton comes back to Scotland because his mother passed away, he ends up reuniting with Spud, and eventually Sick Boy, who we now know by his real name, Simon. Begbie is in prison because, well… he’s Begbie, but he doesn’t stay there long. Tempers fly, old feelings flare, and not every reunited moment is met with glee. But soon enough, Renton, Simon and Spud are drawn into old habits, though not old drugs, and start to build money up to open a ‘sauna’ (read: undercover brothel) for Simon’s girlfriend, Veronika (Angela Nedyalkova). It’s not long before Begbie shows up and starts mucking things up leading to a suspenseful conclusion between Renton, Simon and Begbie.
That’s all I can say. There was an excellent use of the history from the first film, and of course we get another fantastic ‘Choose Life’ speech from Renton. The soundtrack, while not quite as good as the first, still holds its own very well. And be sure to look for the Bowie tribute, since it was he who helped Danny Boyle obtain a lot of music rights on the cheap for the first film. And, you will find Spud’s writings throughout the movie to be lifted, verbatim, from the Trainspotting by Irvine Welsh. But what’s interesting, is that there is not a lot that relates this film to the literary sequel, Porno. Much of the plot of this film is taken from, or at least inspired by, parts of the book that were not used in the first film. That combined with some new writing and storytelling from Irvine Welsh and John Hodge.
Bottom line: if you liked the Trainspotting even in the slightest, you will absolutely enjoy T2 Trainspotting. A phenomenal job by cast, crew, and writers, and an excellent soundtrack will leave you wanting a trilogy. This is only the third film I have given a perfect score to in my 7 years of reviewing films, and it is well deserved. Go see this movie.

Eilidh G Clark (177 KP) rated The Panopticon in Books
May 13, 2017
This is my all time favouurite book.
Jenny Fagan stated in an interview in 2013 that prior to writing the novel The Panopticon (2012) she had one question, ‘is it possible to achieve autonomy?’ Fagan explores this question throughout her novel with the character of Anais Hendrix. I would also suggest that the author is metaphorically exploring whether Scotland can achieve autonomy as an independent nation. Autonomy, in relation to the individual, is self-governance- or being able to decide for oneself
At the beginning of the novel, the fifteen-year old Anais is governed by the state. In contemporary British society, a child under the age of sixteen, regardless of her social situation is, by law, governed by an adult/s. Anais has lived her life in the care system with the exception of a short period in which she lived with an adopted mother. It is for this reason that she is able to see society from outside of the family unit. By creating the motherless child, Fagan presents Anais as the ‘other’ from both a societal perspective- ‘communities dinnae like no-ones,’ and from the viewpoint of the protagonist, ‘What they really want is me dead,’ (TP, p.23). Without a family, and through a lack of legitimate information regarding her birth mother, Anais believes that she was created in a lab:
I’M AN experiment. I always have been, It’s a given, a liberty, a fact. They watch me. Not just in school or social-work reviews, courts or police cells – they watch everywhere. […] They’re there when I stare too long or too clearly, without flinching. […] They watch me, I know it, and I can’t find anywhere any more – where they can’t see, (TP, Prologue).
Note that in the above quotation, the protagonist describes her assumed identity as a ‘liberty’. Liberty, in this case, means freedom from the oppressive nature of the family. Although Anais desires the nurturing aspect of the family, ‘I just want my mum,’ (Tp, p.269), her lack of family exposes her to the nature of contemporary society as a constant monitoring of civilians. In the above quotation, the repetition of ‘they’ suggests that she feels outside of the norm. The most important aspect of the above quote however, is that it is told from the protagonist’s thoughts. While Fagan gives Anais a certain amount of autonomy through both the first-person narrator, and the vernacular, the reliability of the narrator is increased by presenting the characters inner thoughts. While this limited autonomy is important, full autonomy is restricted by age. Bever suggests that ‘the capacity for individuals to become autonomous seems radically dependent on the contingent historical circumstances and societies into which they are born. Anais’ awareness of herself as the ‘other’ allows her an insight into the oppressive role of society, which is normally hindered in childhood due to the role of the family and it’s teaching of norms and values.
The sense of otherness can also be looked at in regard to Scotland and its role within the UK. The UK is a family of four countries under one state. Regardless of Scotland’s devolution, it has still to comply with a large amount of UK policies. Scotland has different values and goals to that of the UK making it ‘other’. With a different cultural identity to its neighbours, many Scottish citizens are seeking independence to protect its dwindling identity, whilst for others, independence is political.
Anais’ awareness of social control causes her a feeling of shrinking. This, according to her social workers is an identity problem:
Fifty odd moves, three different names, born in a nuthouse to a nobody that was never seen again. Identity problem? I dinnae have an identity problem – I dinnae have an identity, (TP, p.99).
Anais’ reaction in the above statement describes her lack of knowledge of her ancestry. I would argue that her identity is forced upon her from the fifty-one times that she has moved home, the care system, the solitary time in which she was adopted, the relationships she has had - both female and male, her friends but more importantly, from the unreliable account of her birth from the monk in the metal institution. The lack of family does not alter the fact that she is alive, and that all the fragments of her past make up an identity. For Anais, ‘Families are overrated […] ‘I umnay fooled. Not by families,’(TP, p.63-64). Like Anais, Scotland’s identity is ambiguous. Independence will allow Scotland political autonomy, however, within a global economy, Scotland still has limited autonomy. As culturally ‘other’ however, Scotland has already achieved autonomy with or without a state through its language, its people and its traditions.
Fagan demonstrates the difficulty of total autonomy though Anais and the birthday game, a game in which she creates her own identity. When she turns sixteen years of age, Anais is free from societal care and flees from her imprisonment, ‘I am Frances Jones from Paris. I am not a face on a missing-person poster, I am not a number or a statistic in a file. I have no-one watching me, […] I−begin today,’ (TP, p.323-324). ‘I’ suggests singularity and is still opposite to ‘them’ or ‘we’. Autonomy is therefore, ambiguous; Anais is still living within the same system under a false identity, she is therefore, segregated from everyone that she knows. Moreover, by changing Anais’ name to a name that ‘means freedom.’ (TP, p.323), Fagan is pointing out the difference between freedom and autonomy. Freedom is an emotive word, and there are two concepts of freedom – freedom from, which in Anais’ situation means freedom from the system of observation. Freedom to, however, is more problematic as Anais can never be free from the neoliberal system of rules and law – as Scotland would see in the case of independence. I would therefore conclude that Anais/Scotland has always has limited autonomy through cultural identity and history. I believe autonomy can only reside within the system through cultural and individual imagination and not out with it.
What does this mean for Scotland? If Scotland is part of the global community, can it become an autonomous nation? Is there a solution or should Anais/Scotland accept that cultural autonomy is imagined or self-contained. Can a collective identity and imagination change the political system? Finally, can culture survive without independence?
Bibliography
Crupp, Tyler, ‘Autonomy and Contemporary Political Theory’, in Encyclopaedia of Political Theory, ed. Mark Bevor (London: Sage Publications, 2010)
Fagan, Jenni, The Panopticon (London: Windmill Books, 2013), p.6.
Windmill Books. (2013). Granta Best Young British Novelist Jenni Fagan, . accessed 22 November 2015. Published on Apr 16, 2013
At the beginning of the novel, the fifteen-year old Anais is governed by the state. In contemporary British society, a child under the age of sixteen, regardless of her social situation is, by law, governed by an adult/s. Anais has lived her life in the care system with the exception of a short period in which she lived with an adopted mother. It is for this reason that she is able to see society from outside of the family unit. By creating the motherless child, Fagan presents Anais as the ‘other’ from both a societal perspective- ‘communities dinnae like no-ones,’ and from the viewpoint of the protagonist, ‘What they really want is me dead,’ (TP, p.23). Without a family, and through a lack of legitimate information regarding her birth mother, Anais believes that she was created in a lab:
I’M AN experiment. I always have been, It’s a given, a liberty, a fact. They watch me. Not just in school or social-work reviews, courts or police cells – they watch everywhere. […] They’re there when I stare too long or too clearly, without flinching. […] They watch me, I know it, and I can’t find anywhere any more – where they can’t see, (TP, Prologue).
Note that in the above quotation, the protagonist describes her assumed identity as a ‘liberty’. Liberty, in this case, means freedom from the oppressive nature of the family. Although Anais desires the nurturing aspect of the family, ‘I just want my mum,’ (Tp, p.269), her lack of family exposes her to the nature of contemporary society as a constant monitoring of civilians. In the above quotation, the repetition of ‘they’ suggests that she feels outside of the norm. The most important aspect of the above quote however, is that it is told from the protagonist’s thoughts. While Fagan gives Anais a certain amount of autonomy through both the first-person narrator, and the vernacular, the reliability of the narrator is increased by presenting the characters inner thoughts. While this limited autonomy is important, full autonomy is restricted by age. Bever suggests that ‘the capacity for individuals to become autonomous seems radically dependent on the contingent historical circumstances and societies into which they are born. Anais’ awareness of herself as the ‘other’ allows her an insight into the oppressive role of society, which is normally hindered in childhood due to the role of the family and it’s teaching of norms and values.
The sense of otherness can also be looked at in regard to Scotland and its role within the UK. The UK is a family of four countries under one state. Regardless of Scotland’s devolution, it has still to comply with a large amount of UK policies. Scotland has different values and goals to that of the UK making it ‘other’. With a different cultural identity to its neighbours, many Scottish citizens are seeking independence to protect its dwindling identity, whilst for others, independence is political.
Anais’ awareness of social control causes her a feeling of shrinking. This, according to her social workers is an identity problem:
Fifty odd moves, three different names, born in a nuthouse to a nobody that was never seen again. Identity problem? I dinnae have an identity problem – I dinnae have an identity, (TP, p.99).
Anais’ reaction in the above statement describes her lack of knowledge of her ancestry. I would argue that her identity is forced upon her from the fifty-one times that she has moved home, the care system, the solitary time in which she was adopted, the relationships she has had - both female and male, her friends but more importantly, from the unreliable account of her birth from the monk in the metal institution. The lack of family does not alter the fact that she is alive, and that all the fragments of her past make up an identity. For Anais, ‘Families are overrated […] ‘I umnay fooled. Not by families,’(TP, p.63-64). Like Anais, Scotland’s identity is ambiguous. Independence will allow Scotland political autonomy, however, within a global economy, Scotland still has limited autonomy. As culturally ‘other’ however, Scotland has already achieved autonomy with or without a state through its language, its people and its traditions.
Fagan demonstrates the difficulty of total autonomy though Anais and the birthday game, a game in which she creates her own identity. When she turns sixteen years of age, Anais is free from societal care and flees from her imprisonment, ‘I am Frances Jones from Paris. I am not a face on a missing-person poster, I am not a number or a statistic in a file. I have no-one watching me, […] I−begin today,’ (TP, p.323-324). ‘I’ suggests singularity and is still opposite to ‘them’ or ‘we’. Autonomy is therefore, ambiguous; Anais is still living within the same system under a false identity, she is therefore, segregated from everyone that she knows. Moreover, by changing Anais’ name to a name that ‘means freedom.’ (TP, p.323), Fagan is pointing out the difference between freedom and autonomy. Freedom is an emotive word, and there are two concepts of freedom – freedom from, which in Anais’ situation means freedom from the system of observation. Freedom to, however, is more problematic as Anais can never be free from the neoliberal system of rules and law – as Scotland would see in the case of independence. I would therefore conclude that Anais/Scotland has always has limited autonomy through cultural identity and history. I believe autonomy can only reside within the system through cultural and individual imagination and not out with it.
What does this mean for Scotland? If Scotland is part of the global community, can it become an autonomous nation? Is there a solution or should Anais/Scotland accept that cultural autonomy is imagined or self-contained. Can a collective identity and imagination change the political system? Finally, can culture survive without independence?
Bibliography
Crupp, Tyler, ‘Autonomy and Contemporary Political Theory’, in Encyclopaedia of Political Theory, ed. Mark Bevor (London: Sage Publications, 2010)
Fagan, Jenni, The Panopticon (London: Windmill Books, 2013), p.6.
Windmill Books. (2013). Granta Best Young British Novelist Jenni Fagan, . accessed 22 November 2015. Published on Apr 16, 2013