Wringing praise from critics for Guy Ritchie’s King Arthur: Legend of the Sword has been as challenging as, well, wriggling that stubborn blade from a stone. But the mythical landscape, filmed entirely in the United Kingdom, proves to be just the ticket…or at least, worth the price of one.
Here’s a quick look at the highs and lows of a movie which, at times, can be as challenging as the terrain.
If you’re a fan of Ritchie’s films, you probably won’t be disappointed in this action-packed popcorn gobbler. True to form, its filled with fast-paced banter, a throbbing modern soundtrack, and manic, crime caper-style energy, as Arthur (played with tough guy bravado by Charlie “Sons of Anarchy” Hunnam) and his merry band of miscreants have fun stormin’ the castle.
Admittedly, I could’ve done without the improbably oversized evil elephants. Ditto Ritchie’s dystopian vision of Camelot, which has nothing in common with the most congenial spot for happily-ever-aftering regaled in the 1960s musical Camelot, where “the rain may never fall ‘til after sundown.” (In England? If only.)
Ritchie’s kingdom, by contrast, is more akin to Mordor. It’s a dungeons-and-dark-magic fortress where you half expect an army of ornery orcs to charge in to aid Jude Law’s villainous King Vortigern, usurper to the throne.
The director’s decision to bequeath David Beckham a cameo as a scar-faced soldier has attracted a few derisive sniggers, but there’s one bit of casting Ritchie did get undeniably right. Namely, awarding some of the most magnificent settings in England, Scotland and Wales a guest starring role as Arthur’s legendary landscape.
VisitBritain has prepared an interactive map for those who wish to walk in Arthur’s footsteps and see the best of Great Britain for themselves. Read on below for the filmmakers’ top pick of UK film locations and behind-the-scenes scoop.
Behind the Scenes
Filming in the UK might seem a natural decision, but as location managers Amanda Stevens and Lottie Mason reveal, it almost didn’t happen.
Despite being officially dubbed one of the happiest places to live in the UK, the Isle of Harris off the northwest coast of Scotland is battling a serious buzz kill. That is to say, there are fewer and fewer people living there to enjoy all that happiness these days.
The population has halved over the last 50 years, shrinking to less than 2,000 residents. But…why?
Because, despite producing the renowned Harris Tweed, employment opportunities in the isolated Outer Hebrides are scarcer than the remaining hairs on Sean Connery’s head.
So, what are these industrious islanders doing to kick-start this party, y’all? Opening a distillery entirely staffed by locals and brewing some hooch, of course.
Naturally, you might assume that by hooch, I mean “Scotch,” this being Scotland and all. While that is indeed part of the long-term plan, Scotch whisky must age at least three years in oak barrels by law.
The roses are wilted. That decadent box of heart-shaped chocolates has morphed into a flabby albatross around your waist, and the giddy high of champagne has burst like a bubble, leaving only a hangover behind. How do you pump new life into a flaccid relationship after Valentine’s Day is done and Cupid has flown the coop? Read on for four prescriptions for passion that last a lot longer than Viagra.
I’m cringing on the edge of a tiny wooden platform less than one meter square, contemplating a leap from the equivalent of a three-storey building.
I’m not suicidal, only slightly insane. In theory, you see, the cable that a fresh-faced young lad strapped to my harness will allow me to make a controlled, but nonetheless stomach-churning, descent into the abyss.
The “Skydive,” one of the most popular attractions at Landmark Forest Adventure Park in Carrbridge, Scotland, didn’t look so high from the ground.
But as I stand frozen to my perch, where I’m treated to a bird’s eye view of energy-sapping pursuits guaranteed to exhaust even the most hyperactive children and their parents (a rock-climbing pillar, water slides, mini-racetrack and the like), I’m beginning to regret the black pudding I had for breakfast.
Now I know what it feels like to be a penguin swaddled in a girdle…not that I had given it much thought before. But as I waddle into the cool shallows of Lamlash Bay on Scotland’s Isle of Arran, lumpily sheathed in neoprene and dragging my bright red kayak behind me, I feel as awkward as that klutzy, egg-shaped comic. I’m hoping that when I finally reach deeper waters and launch myself into my craft, I, like the stubby-legged polar bird, will take on some measure of aquatic grace—but in my heart, I know better.
Just as I feel a chilly trickle filling my rubber booties, my jovial guide, Bruce Jolliffe with the Arran Adventure Company, suggests we board our crimson kayaks, and soon we’re gliding across the gunmetal gray bay. Well, my companions may be “gliding,” but my idea of an upper-body workout is brushing my teeth (flossing, too, when I’m feeling particularly hale), and I soon start to feel the burn. (more…)
Whisky draws 1.3 million visitors and brings in £26 million to Scotland every year. “But above all,” says Fergus Ewing, Scotland’s Minister for Energy, Enterprise and Tourism, “it allows people to see the world as a slightly kinder place, for at least an hour or two.”
Check out www.homecomingscotland.com/whiskymonth for details–and don’t forget to raise a wee dram “World Whisky Day,” May 17.
But why wait to get into the, er, spirit? Click http://amylaughinghouse.com/?p=1825 to read about the Scotch Whisky Trail—and find out why every day is whisky day for me.
Greek fire was one of the most powerful and mysterious weapons of Byzantium, almost mythical in its power to subdue and overpower enemies of the empire. The recipe for this legendary liquid flame — a highly combustible compound that was hurled through the air and could not be quenched with water — has been lost in the ensuing centuries.
Pour a finger of Scotch, swirl the tumbler, and watch as light plays across the amber fluid like dancing flames encased in glass.
Inhale the heady fumes, which may fill your nostrils with the smoky perfume of peat.
Finally, take a sip. Careful now, because this is where whisky really earns its reputation, searing your throat and warming your belly, tracing a course through your body so intense that you would swear it left a mark on your flesh. (more…)