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  • Sunday Shortlist, from The Week
    An 'expert' dumb comedy and 'unfiltered' Alan Partridge

     
    EXHIBITION REVIEW

    Andy Goldsworthy: Fifty Years

    Superb career retrospective brings together more than 200 works from the misunderstood artist

    Andy Goldsworthy has been making art for 50 years, said Waldemar Januszczak in The Sunday Times. He identifies the "magical" qualities of the natural world and fashions "delightful" works from the simplest of materials: rocks, leaves, mud, twigs. He is "imaginative, inventive, poetic, hard-working, big-hearted and brave", a creator of often monumental pieces responding to the natural landscapes that inspire him. I love him and so does the general public – yet for some reason, he has never been given full credit by the art establishment.

    Goldsworthy's work is simply too "easy to love", too rural and too popular to be fashionable; and its apparent simplicity is misinterpreted as a lack of profundity. His doubters would do well to visit this superb career retrospective in Edinburgh, which confirms him as one of our finest landscape artists. Bringing together more than 200 works produced since the 1970s, including photographs, films, drawings and some of the major installations for which he is best known, the show is a corrective to the idea that Goldsworthy is merely a crowd-pleasing "softie".

    Although Goldsworthy loves nature, he doesn't "sentimentalise" it, said Jonathan Jones in The Guardian. Instead, his work plunges you into "the raw sadness and beauty" of the British countryside. The first thing we see here is a long sheepskin rug laid up the classical gallery's grand staircase; it's made from the scraps thrown away after shearing, stained blue or red with farmers' marks, all stitched together with thorns. At the top of the stairs, there's what appears to be a perforated screen, through which you can just glimpse the galleries beyond. It feels "mystical and calming" – until you realise that he has fashioned it from "rusty barbed wire" strung between two columns.
    Similarly, he presents a "seductive" group of purple watercolours – made "with hare's blood and snow". Since much of his work has been created specifically for outdoor settings, many pieces are represented by photos and videos – of his "Grizedale Wall", for instance, an "elegantly curving stone line in a forest", or the giant snowball he brought from the Scottish Highlands to London's Smithfield meat market in June 2000.

    Goldsworthy's critics also miss the political dimension in his art, said Alastair Sooke in The Telegraph. He is an artist of "agricultural land and labour", addressing "contentious rural issues" including land ownership and access. He represents this with evocations of walls, fences, "cracks and fissures", all recurring motifs here. And sometimes he deals with loftier themes still: "Gravestones" (2025), for instance, is an "expanse of lumpy stones" displaced from cemeteries across Dumfries and Galloway, where the artist lives. It's a moving meditation on the "inevitability of death". Goldsworthy's art is both "beautiful and raw". This wonderful exhibition gives a misunderstood artist his due.

    Royal Scottish Academy, Edinburgh. Until 2 November

     
     
    FILM REVIEW

    The Naked Gun

    Liam Neeson shows off his comedy chops in this reboot of Leslie Nielsen's crime spoof

    It's a brave move, to revive the "Naked Gun" movies, said Danny Leigh in the Financial Times. Released between 1988 and 1994, the crime spoofs were a showcase for the genius of the late Leslie Nielsen, whose "deadpan brilliance" as the bumbling LAPD detective Frank Drebin (a man with "a heart of gold and a brain of wood") helped turn them into classics of the genre. Yet against all expectations, this belated sequel is a worthy successor – "a dumb comedy of the expert kind".

    Liam Neeson takes the role of Drebin's son, Frank Junior, who has followed in his father's footsteps and joined the same elite squad. He is younger than his dad was in the original trilogy, yet is also a "relic in changing times. 'Since when do cops have to follow the law,' he asks, sincerely baffled."

    The plot involves an "Elon-style villain" (Danny Huston) bent on world domination, said Deborah Ross in The Spectator – but it is not really relevant: this is a film which exists solely to make its audience laugh. Some of the gags may not land, but never mind, because another will be along in 15 seconds. Admittedly, the third act drags a bit, and is "over-reliant on slapstick", but the film is only 75 minutes, so you'll not be squirming in your seat.

    This is one of the stupidest films you'll ever see, said Robbie Collin in The Telegraph – and I loved it. Playing on his hard-man persona, Neeson delivers his lines "with a gravelly matter-of-factness that only compounds" their lunacy, and he has an easy on-screen chemistry with his love interest, "winningly played by a game-for-anything" Pamela Anderson, which will do nothing to quash rumours of an off-screen romance. If you have a taste for this kind of humour, you'll not stop laughing until the credits have rolled. 

     
     
    PODCAST review

    From the Oasthouse 

    Alan Partridge started life as a sports reporter on Radio 4's "On the Hour" (nostalgics please note that Radio 4 Extra is currently re-running the second series of this sublime news satire, with episodes available on BBC Sounds), said Fiona Sturges in the Financial Times. Since then, Steve Coogan's comic alter ego has hosted chat shows, appeared in sitcoms and a feature film, and written memoirs. But the format that suits him best is arguably the podcast – where "he has the freedom to be his hapless, supercilious self", unconstrained by scheduling requirements or interfering producers. What appears to be the "unedited rambling" of a deluded egotist is of course the result of "virtuoso writing" and performance. The fourth series of "From the Oasthouse" finds Alan in a range of "deliciously random" set-ups (orienteering in Suffolk, getting stuck in the glazed vestibule of his assistant Lynn's house). It is pure, "unfiltered" Partridge – and very funny.

     
     
    BOOK OF THE WEEK

    King of Kings 

    by Scott Anderson

    The Islamic Revolution of 1979, which toppled Iran's Shah, Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, was one of the most significant political events of the past 50 years, said Charlie Gammell in the Financial Times. 

    It transformed Iran from a "hyper-rich, secular-leaning" kingdom "allied to the West" into the "dour, repressive Islamist autocracy we know today". And as well as reshaping the Middle East, it ultimately brought "politically motivated Islamist violence to all our streets".

    How strange, then, that "no one in power saw it coming until it was too late": not the CIA, not US president Jimmy Carter (who in 1977 praised Iran as an "island of stability"), and certainly not the Shah himself. In this "brilliant" book, the war correspondent and novelist Scott Anderson tells the story of the revolution.

    Drawing on interviews with many key players – including the Shah's 86-year-old widow, Farah Pahlavi, who now lives in the US – the book helps elucidate the "blood-soaked rivalries that drive conflict in the Middle East today".

    Some accounts of the Iranian Revolution "do not bother overly with the deeper history of the country", said Jason Burke in The Spectator. Anderson does, "easily and elegantly" sketching the background, including the "rotten Qajar dynasty", which ruled Iran from 1789 to 1925, and the reign of Reza Shah Pahlavi, whom the British deposed during the Second World War. 

    That brought his son, Mohammad, to power, said Richard Overy in The Telegraph. Bolstered by money and arms from the US (for whom Iran was a bulwark against communism and a source of oil), he embarked on a "grandiose programme of modernisation". But while this benefited Iran's wealthy elite, it alienated many traditionally minded Iranians.

    And for a figurehead, those people increasingly turned to the exiled cleric Ayatollah Khomeini, said John Simpson in The Guardian. Having long been an exile in neighbouring Iraq, he was thrown out by Saddam Hussein in 1978, and took refuge in a village near Paris – where the world's press could interview him "whenever they wanted", with every word "beamed back to Iran".

    On 16 January 1979, facing escalating protests and military defections, the Shah and his family fled to Egypt. Two weeks later, Khomeini returned to Iran and rapidly established a theocracy. Anderson's book "suffers", as American accounts often do, "from concentrating on the Iran-US relationship to the virtual exclusion of any other". Still, it gives a "thorough overview" of an event whose aftershocks the "world is still experiencing". 

     
     
    TV review

    Inside the Cult of the Jesus Army

    BBC Two's two-part series shines a light on the abuse at the heart of the Christian group

    We Brits don't think of ourselves as susceptible to religious cults, said Ben Dowell in The Times. But this harrowing BBC Two documentary serves to shatter that complacency. Its focus is the Jesus Army, a sect established in Northamptonshire in 1969 by a charismatic preacher named Noel Stanton.

    Hundreds of people flocked to hear his sermons, and many gave up their livelihoods and possessions to join his "evangelical rural community". Stanton, however, exploited rather than helped his followers, many of whom were young or otherwise vulnerable. He subjected them to an "increasingly doctrinaire" set of rules and punishments, based on strictly patriarchal values, and initiated a horrifying culture of ritualised sexual abuse.

    As early as 1978, a cult member who'd been punished for reading books was found dead on a nearby railway line, said Madeleine Davies in the Church Times. Yet Stanton's movement kept growing; by the 2000s, it had 3,000 members and millions in assets.

    The Jesus Army always seemed weird and sinister, said Rachel Aroesti in The Guardian, yet the scale of its crimes was only exposed after Stanton's death in 2009, when an investigation revealed that it was "a haven for paedophiles".

    The filmmakers estimate that one in six children involved with the cult were abused; 539 ex-members have been accused of abuse, but only 11 have been convicted. The lasting message of the documentary is that, as a society, we are shockingly bad at bringing sex abusers to justice. 

     

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