“FlixFixer is Social Cinema at the Custard Factory Theatre. It allows you to choose movies you love, find a venue to screen them and invite friends, family or other like-minded film-lovers to share in a screening where you set the rules – be it dress-up, dress down, no hats or no food. It allows you to build a community of friends around your shared love of movies and get together regularly to celebrate that. We screen here on Wednesdays… or you can screen here whenever you want.”
And so we’re taking advantage of it, we present the montly: Dr Bristow’s Movie-a-go-go.
Let’s be honest, the best thing about so called ‘event television’ is following the cruel, cynical Twitter crowd as they snark, shout, and shoot down the spectacle with devastating accuracy and sly humour. X-Factor, Eurovision and even the bloody Royal Wedding were all made, not only bearable, but endlessly entertaining by the techno hive-mind. Although Pippa Middleton’s arse helped the last one.
The good Doctor Bristow thinks that we shouldn’t have to wait for the next flavour of the week to fall onto the TV table, and the laser intensity of Twitter’s hard stare can be turned onto the Hollywood clunkers we all know and are mostly indifferent too.
Giving movies the collective gang-kicking they thoroughly deserve, the team behind Britain’s most inappropriately named magazine invite you to limber those tweeting fingers, sharpen those tongues, and come down to the Custard Factory where we will be dragging in a cinematic sacrificial lamb for you to tear apart.
Utilising our unique Tweet-o-vision the audience is invited to add its own commentary to the film offerings, with games, prizes and enough snark to sink James Cameron’s Titanic, Doctor Bristow’s Movie-a-go-go is the cinema that not only allows using your mobile when the film’s started, but demands it with craven fist.
Bringing together the joy of cinema and the cruel wit and wisdom of the crowd Doctor Bristow’s Movie-a-go-go is a movie experience of the future. Showing the very best, worst and oddest cinema the last hundred years has to offer; forgotten classics, shoddy blockbusters, and vintage screen burps all get the thrashing of their life from you the viewer and the rest of the crowd of equally-cynical culture junkies.
It’ll be a bit like this:
Our first victim will be Showgirls—Robocop Director Paul Verhoven’s tale of tits and tails in the *murky* world of Vegas dancing. There’s stripping, fighting, Wall Street-esque greed and Agent Cooper from Twin Peaks tupping Jessie off of Saved By The Bell in a jacuzzi.
Winner of 8 Razzies: Worst Actress, Worst Director, Worst New Star, Worst Original Song, Worst Picture, Worst Screen Couple, Worst Screenplay and 2000’s Worst Movie of the Decade.
Tickets £4 (including a free copy of Dirty Bristow issue one)
Premium Ticket—get first dibs on a song* £5
* Buy the ticket (or tickets) and add a Note to seller: on PayPal for each premium ticket you buy. First come first served on each ELO song so calling first dibs doesn’t guarantee first sing if someone has called it before you. You can’t call Mr Blue Sky as we’re all singing that together last thing.
It’s the most difficult pub quiz you’ve even attended — and every penny raised goes towards printing and other costs of this most individual, independent and inspiring of magazines.
It’s a quiz so hard, that you’re allowed to cheat. It’s a test of your logic, your search powers and your network as much as your general knowledge. Bring mobiles, laptops, dongles, encyclopedias, get a phone-a-friend poised… you’ll need them.
There are four rounds, each set and judged by a King, and a blockbuster that would block buster out. Special guest royalty to be announced…
Kings may include:
Mark King out of Level 42
Martin Luther King
The King of Pop
more Kings, and the Four Kings will be previewed.
It’s £5 per person, and you can have any number in a teams up to 6. But the grand prize is the average weight of team members in booze (we choose the booze, it’ll be available to take away), so not only do you want fat lads you want as small a number as possible (fat lasses too, but we didn’t want to mention it).
Buy your ticket now in advance — £5
You get a paypal receipt, we get your name. It’ll be on the door. Payment on the door is fine, but a ticket guarantees entry.
Join Historian Ben Waddington on a tour of sights and buildings inspired by his article ‘Invisible Architecture’ from Issue One of Dirty Bristow.
“Take a walk down New Street. The challenge is to get where you need to be without being waylaid by market researchers, religious groups, animal rights zealots, charity collectors in pincer formation, personality testers, Big Issue sellers on their last copy, or the unlucky folk needing just 20p towards their train fare.
Even if you successfully run this gauntlet, you are never out of the magnetic field of every shop window display, carefully arranged to take your attention and unfold your money. One direction you cannot afford to look is upward.
The impression is that it is a modern arrangement of concrete blocks put up in the sixties at the expense of Victorian splendour. The reality is very different: certainly there are some recent buildings but above the ground floor is mostly rich Victorian brickwork, colourful faience, terracotta, sculpture and ornate ironwork.
It is interesting to watch the design of buildings around Birmingham, and indeed most UK cities, altering through time to reflect the level people are looking at. The focus of branding descends the building throughout the twentieth century like an elevator.”
A guided tour exploring some of these themes sets off from Queens Corner, Birmingham at noon on Saturday 25th September 2010.
It costs £5 to be put towards Dirty Bristow Issue Two.
If you managed to get past Deirdre into our first fundraising event, and launch party on Saturday, thank you. The comedians were funny, the music was loud, scary, and wonderful, and the vegetables were miss-shapen.
A huge army of volunteers, like any village must have in this big society, were required to stage a fête in the middle of urban decay and you’ll have to excuse us if we take a second to attempt to list them: