CUBISSUE 554

WHATDOYOULOVEABOUTYOURSELF?

#timetotalk

Issue 554SECTION GUIDE

2 // Editorial Team

3 // The Editor’s Letter

4 // Arts

10 // London

16 // Style

22 // Features

28 // Music

34 // Film

40 // UniSex

42 // Columns

44 // Special Thanks

facebook.com/CUBmagazine // @CUBmagazine // www.cubmagazine.co.uk

Editorial TeamTHOSE THAT HELPED PUT THIS ISSUE TOGETHER

EDITOR IN CHIEF: Becky Hipkiss

SUB EDITORS: Lauren Cantillon, Isabella Ashford & Krish Raichura

ARTS: Laura Maw & David Loumgair

COLUMNS: Katie Gill & Roya Eslami

FEATURES: Lucy Sutcliffe, Nour Kobayter & Mattea Todd

FILM: Gemma Holt, Laura Staab & Iman Mohamed

LONDON: Frankie Brown & Malachy O’Grady

MUSIC: Elly Watson & Sophie Fordham

PHOTOGRAPHY: Emily Gillings-Peck

STYLE: Raifa Rafiq, Lucy Tattersall & Claudia Manca

UNISEX: Georgia Conlon & Sarah Pinder

ONLINE: Ralitsa Peykova & Ruby Kilroy

HEAD OF PR & MARKETING: Alissa Veiga-Pestana

PR & MARKETING TEAM: Kripa Gurung, Maria Kristiansson & Bella Catling

Editor’s NoteA WORD FROM THE BOSS

Hello 2015! The year of the sheep, the next General Election and many graduations (including mine). January is always a tough month as we battle a torrent of essays, post-Christmas blues and the cold snap - but hopefully this issue will put a smile on your face!

The standard of writing and content from my wonderful team of editors and contributors continues to astound me. This issue sees a review of ‘Not What I Am’, produced by Dogs of War theatre company, hears the confessions of our very own shopaholic and explores the top Valentine’s spots that London has to offer (we were never going to escape that day in a February issue now, were we?). We’re covering everything from afternoon tea, to screaming fangirls, to Channel 4’s new Banana, Cucumber and Tofu sex series - you can’t exactly accuse us of a lack of variety.

We have dedicated this issue to the theme of ‘Love Yourself’ for Time to Talk day on Thursday 5th February, where they are asking the nation to take just five minutes to talk about mental health, with the aim of hitting twenty-four hours of conversation. In this issue you will find brutally honest accounts of abusive relationships, body dysmorphia and living with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Having a mental health problem is hard enough, but sometimes the isolation and stigma can make it even worse. But we can all help to break the silence.

My personal highlight of this issue however, is our beautiful ‘what do you love about yourself?’ photographs from around campus, featuring you lovely lot. As you read, try and think about what you love about yourself - maybe it’s the colour of your eyes, your infamous rendition of ‘I Will Survive’ on a Saturday night or simply your ability to always look on the bright side of life. Whatever it is, be sure to remind yourself now and again - everyone has bad days, but in the words of a certain ginger orphan, “The sun will always come out tomorrow”.

Until next time,

Becky x

“not until we are lost do we begin to

find ourselves”

NOTWHAT

I AM

DOGS OF WAR THEATRE

ARTS // 5

Any situation where you’ve a got a power structure, a hierarchy, the ability to manipulate or wield control over people, you get psychopaths doing very well. ”

“

Words: David Macintosh Loumgair

From January 9th-11th 2015, Dogs Of War Theatre sought to achieve what some would see as blasphemous, a re-writing of this classic text to create relevance for a modern audience.

Appropriating the themes prevalent in the original play onto the sleepless streets of London’s city district, five of Shakespeare’s most well known characters were re-modelled on the hard-hearted and ruthless lawyers that inhabit Spitalfields and the surrounding area. Set in Corbet Place Bar, the production was a semi-immersive, promenade performance exploring deception, depression and manipulation.

We’ve all been there… the intense paranoia and belief that our partners are cheating on us, seeping into our bones and driving us to do things we would never dream of. A paranoia that perhaps everyone feels at some point in their lives, swiftly followed by a depression and despair that comes so quickly after. I mean, just look at the success of David Fincher’s new film Gone Girl.

However what if somebody close to you, somebody you considered one of your most trusted allies, began to subtly trick you into believing your paranoia was unequivocally justified? We wouldn’t be too happy, would we…?

And so in steps Shakespeare’s most famous villain, Iago. In Dogs Of War’s modernised production, aptly named Not What I Am,

Iago took the form of Ida; James Othello’s power hungry Senior Associate. A highly functioning psychopath and master of manipulation, Ida whispers in James’ ear and acts as puppeteer to the tragic events that unfold throughout the story. Upon discovering his wife’s supposed unfaithfulness, Othello is consumed by depression, anger and later an unstoppable thirst for revenge. The swift contrast between his intense love for Desdemona in the opening scenes of Not What I Am with his heated and violent outbursts, ending with (spoiler alert) her brutal murder by his own hands, acted as a chilling example of the character’s erratically shifting mental states.

An immediate inspiration for this setting, and focus on the psychology of mental health, is the fact that the second highest profession containing psychopaths is law. Oxford scholar Kevin Dutton informed smithsonian.com that:

Although audiences and academics primarily focus on the deceit and manipulation that is so integral to the plot, Dogs Of War attempted to draw attention to the complex mentalities manifest in this

well-known story. Iago’s psychopathy and Othello’s obsessive personality provide a hugely interesting exploration of mental health in theatre, an exploration that has been on-going since Shakespeare wrote the original text over four hundred years ago.

Using law as a contemporary backdrop amplified this focus of mental health to Dogs Of War’s audiences. By dusting off Shakespeare’s script and completely modernising it, equipped with the setting a psychopath would thrive in, they sought to drag the Bard’s characters kicking and screaming into the 21st century.

The fact of the matter is; one per cent of the world’s 7.125 billion strong population are psychopaths. Don’t think that sounds like much? Break it down…that’s seventy-one million, two hundred and fifty thousand psychopaths inhabiting the earth. Or eighty-three thousand and eighty in London alone… we’d better start watching our backs.

Not What I Am opened to three sold out performances, with nearing sixty audience members each night. Want to find out more about this exciting company?

Visit the website at: www.dogsofwartheatre.comFacebook: Dogs Of War TheatreTwitter: @dogsofwar_havoc

You Either See It, Or You Don’t

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You Either See It, Or You Don’t Hidden behind Spitalfields market, and not

too far from the back of Rough Trade, sits 18 Folgate Street, otherwise known as Dennis Severs’ House. From taking a quick look at the outside, it doesn’t look like much – a little bit old fashioned perhaps. With a large lantern hung above the door, shuttered windows and ivy growing up the drainpipe. But inside is where its secrets are revealed.

When open, visitors line up outside the mysterious front door that does little to tell you what is inside. A guide then joins you and preps you on the rules – this is no mere museum. It is still life drama. The house is lit entirely by candlelight and, to fully immerse yourself in the experience, you must remain silent throughout the house as you explore it from bottom to top. There’s very little reading to do either. You take from it what you can – the more you look, the more that is revealed.

The house depicts the lives of a family of silk-weavers and their lives from 1724, right up to the beginning of the twentieth century. The ‘game’ is that as you enter the room, they’ve just left and, once you leave, they re-enter. You can hear them, shouting, laughing, talking. You can also hear the sounds of the time around too – cannons to mark the Queen’s coronation, horses outside and so much more. The rest of it is all real though; the food, smells, and even a cat.

You begin the cellar where there are remains of St Mary’s Spital, a twelfth century hospital and priory, before entering the dark kitchen

where there is a fire going, food on the table, and you can catch a glimpse of the above street. You then move upstairs, through to an eating parlour and a smoking room, made to recreate the scene in the Hogarth painting hanging above the fireplace. Upstairs again is the withdrawing room, with even more small items to explore around the room and a number of bedrooms.

The top floor is dark again, and conditions are worse. Holes in the ceiling allow glimpses of the attic and cobwebs cling to the bed. A small corner of the room compares parts of the room to various sections of Charles Dickens novels, one of the only examples of interpretation provided to visitors. You then descend back through the house, and try to piece together what exactly you have just seen. As the house motto states: ‘you either see it or you don’t’.

This is a place that has to be seen to be believed. Entry for regular days is £10, but it’s a real treat for anyone studying Eighteenth Century London, anyone with an interest in history, or anyone who wants to try something a bit different from the regular museum scene.

The house is open for special Silent Night’s every Monday and Wednesday evening, 6pm-9pm. Monday lunchtime 12pm-2pm and Sunday’s 12-4pm. They also open for special events so visit the website for more details:

@ dennissevershouse.co.uk

Words: Sarah Garnham

ARTS // 7

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FEELING As the artistic director of the Waldorf Project, what was it that inspired you to create such a sensory form of art?

The atmosphere of a gallery and the holistic experience have always been important to me and led me to expand my creative ideas beyond film making to immersive performance. The biggest of these events, “WATER first incarnation” was a 10 day long performance in which 1000 sealed bottles of different sparkling water, collected by me over six years from all over the world, were presented in a tasting setting. It was the first time I collaborated with a sound designer, set designer and most importantly a choreographer. It was during this performance that I realised I no longer wanted to make video art but rather to create more immersive performance. As I saw the water being consumed by the guests and interpreted, I saw a total art form, one which is taken in through all the senses.

The project fully materialized four years ago in Madrid, in a disappointing Michelin starred restaurant experience. The chef was no doubt an artist but I noticed two things: firstly, no matter how beautiful the food, it had to be destroyed in order to be eaten. More importantly I saw the restriction the restaurant was under – the plate was the stage and the food the art. The smells, sounds and visuals were all being ignored. So I thought, what if you expanded the ‘stage’ to fill the entire environment and considered all the senses? Building on my previous artistic ideas mentioned above, Waldorf was born.

The Waldorf Project creates a unique sensory world explored in a variety of ways. Following the success of its first chapter ‘Muskmelon’ in 2012, Sean Rogg has returned with an even more intriguing chapter two, ‘Colour’.

Words: Nazlee Sabahipour

COLOUR

To what extent do you find that colour can really be experienced through senses other than just the visual?

Visual will be only the beginning of how you experience colour. The soundscapes have been composed not only using the same frequencies of their respective colours but have the same emotions and the food objects will actually taste like colour rather than simply being made of coloured food. Sets will also extend the emotional response. But ultimately all these ideas will merge into one single experience where you will actually simply just “feel” the colour. Not only do the various soundscapes sound like their respective colours but I asked the sound designer to pair his soundscapes to wine. The costume designer also had to create patterns that are inspired by and mimic the architectural landscapes they are worn in. Every aspect had to merge together until my vision was realised.

How do you expect the participants to react to this experience, seeing as they won’t be told much about what they’re letting themselves in for?

The Project is about giving me your hand and letting me take you on a journey. Everyone will have their own experience and interpret the project in their own way but all should have an enlightening evening.

ARTS // 9

LOOK OUT FOR CHEAP TICKETS GIVING A SAMPLE OF THE EXPERIENCE TO BE RELEASED...

Follow the Waldorf Project on facebook.com/waldorfproject

Valentines in the CityFor once, the smell hanging around Mile End

Road isn’t of kebabs and fried chicken. No, it’s the aroma of love and romance. Love is in the air, as they say, and in the season of February, we at CUB thought that we’d put together a fun little list, of how to treat your special someone

this Valentine’s Day.

Thinking of flowers?

Instead of picking up a little bunch of wilting blooms, why not treat your other half to a brilliant bunch from the Covent Garden Flower Market. Rated the number one in the country, these will top any floundering tulips you were going to find at the Co-op. As it is open Monday to Saturday 4-10am, it will be an early morning, but it will be worth it.

Feeling peckish?

Picking a restaurant for Valentine’s can be difficult; it’s hard to pick somewhere special enough, and thinking about getting a reservation is just a headache. The solution is simple: the Southbank Real Food Market. Not only is there a humongous amount of choice available, from handmade Italian gnocchi to Mauritian curries, but the sheer quality of the produce available is mind-boggling. Why pick one table, when this rustic selection can provide such an extensive choice?

Words: Frankie Brown

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How about a movie?

For a bit of a shift from the usual sappy Rom-Com, try the Prince Charles Cinema in Leicester Square. This place is infamous for its quirky and often late-night showings (a personal favourite is the ‘Mean Girls Bitch-a-long’) and this year on Valentine’s Day they are screening My Bloody Valentine, described as “a decade old folk tale surrounding a deranged murderer killing those who celebrate Valentine’s Day, turns out to be true to legend when a group defies the killer’s order and people start turning up dead.” For a blood bath, not a bubble bath, this is highly recommended.

Got a sweet tooth?

Don’t touch those Quality Street selection boxes, there is another way! Nestled near Oxford Circus station is the unique Choccywoccydoodah. With delicious treats everywhere, and even some students can buy (the ‘Venus Nipples’, marshmallow covered in chocolate, are personally endorsed), this is a pretty fancy way to treat your honey’s sweet tooth.

Ice ice baby?

If you’re looking for something with a more typically romantic feel, we recommend Broadgate Ice Rink. What could be more charming than spinning in chilly circles staring into each other’s eyes (or clinging to each other for dear life, depending on your skating ability)? At only £10 each for students (with ID), and open until 26th February, this is a really brilliant night out.

Despite the rainy, cold weather (I’ve lived next to warm seas my whole life), I love London because there is

always something to do; the possibilities are endless! You can go for a walk in one of the many parks London has to offer and you’re sure to find one at least relatively close to where you live. Alternatively, you might find yourself

casually strolling along and stopping at one of the various food markets around the city, each offering its own great,

and extremely diverse, selection. Then there’s all the musicals, operas, ballets and more! And even better? All

of it is easily reachable by public transport.

We complain of being squashed like sardines in the tube, and that London is ridiculously overpriced but if we dare to look on the bright side then we might be able to see that the London Underground offers us the opportunity to become explorers; theatres, art galleries, museums.

Travelling time is significantly cut down and London lit up at night is always a beautiful sight. What makes London so special is its transport connections; it is a place for

friends and family to be reunited. To have loved ones living on the opposite sides of the city, and yet still being able to visit them with ease, is something that not every place

has. So when I think of London, I think of home.

Luisa Peress Jessica Clot

WHY I LOVE this CITY...

The stories of our city and the people in it are amazing. I once met an old man outside Liverpool Street station; he was wearing an overcoat and a flat-cap, and he strolled over to me, smiling. He started giving me life advice: ‘love isn’t everything’, he said, ‘you have to be true to yourself. The future will come, so right now, you should live how

you want and always remember to smile’. And with that, he shook my hand and left. And he wasn’t drunk, I swear. When we sit on the tube avoiding each other’s eyes, we can sometimes feel so detached from each other, but we all make up tiny pieces of a beautiful city, and that’s a

great thing.

I love the history of London. It’s great seeing the modern Millennium Bridge next to the old Globe Theatre and the

majestic St. Paul’s cathedral standing tall and strong with expensive boats floating by on the Thames. Witnessing a timeline of history is both beautiful and fascinating.

Everywhere you turn holds a new discovery. You have such a vast amount of different places you have access to,

and it is so easy to get around on the Underground. Every place is unique in its own way. Next time you’re bored, just

jump on a tube and choose a stop at random. London never disappoints!

Sophie Hollis Elizabeth Tan

WHY I LOVE this CITY...

Photo: c/o Robert Scott / Flickr

There is nothing more English than taking afternoon tea in London, but with over a hundred venues to choose from, where do you begin?

There is something truly special about looking forward to a high class tea, dressing up in your finest attire and turning the occasion into an event by dining at an iconic hotel; perhaps The Ritz London or Claridges. Booking far in advance increases expectations, adding to the glamour. During low tea, enjoy a day of pampering as either a pianist or harpist plays soft, soothing music to accompany your conversations.

Traditionally, the upper classes would serve ‘low’ or ‘afternoon’ tea around four o’clock, followed by a promenade in Hyde Park. Conversely, the middle and lower classes would eat a more substantial ‘high’ tea later on in the day, almost as their evening meal. The names for both are based on the height of tables, as ‘high tea’ was served at a dinner table and ‘low tea’ was (evidently) served on lower tables.

Since the opening of The Shard in London, an 87 storey, 310 metre high skyscraper, on Level 31, the Aqua Shard has become a popular destination for afternoon tea. Being one of the tallest buildings in Europe, customers are given the privilege of sipping their tea whilst gazing out over London. The view from The Shard has drawn both Londoner’s and tourists alike. Having tea here has the additional benefit of being able to see an aerial view of London at a great height, giving The Shard an edge over other tea rooms.

The washrooms in The Shard are even more exciting; men can enjoy using the facilities whilst acknowledging that the

only separation from the outside is a piece of glass. For the ladies, watch the trains go by beneath you whilst washing your hands. This is likely to be a memorable and highly entertaining experience.

Similarly on Park Lane, also known as one of the most expensive places to buy on the Monopoly Board, The London Hilton holds its own specialities, offering ‘Confessions of a Chocoholic Afternoon Tea’. With 16-25 Railcards, they offer tea for two vouchers. This tea experience is specially designed for chocolate lovers and includes chocolate chip scones dipped in a delicious praline spread. This four course chocolate feast lures those with a sweet tooth. The London Hilton have modernised their design of afternoon tea, featuring their open laid out sandwiches. Over the festive season, it hosted a delicious Christmas themed afternoon tea, with an exquisite presentation of desserts filled with mulled wine and chocolate yule logs. The aesthetic inside is almost an art in itself.

For afternoon tea lovers looking for a relaxing, inexpensive day out, Browns in London, a British chain brasserie that serves afternoon tea by day and lobster by night, is a perfect fit. There is certainly a difference between what we refer to as

a proper English ‘afternoon tea experience’ and a bite to eat with simple tea, cakes and scones. The presentation of the food is less elaborate, as is to be expected, but what better way to spend your afternoon?

Start with one place and you’ll find you’ll soon be making your way around them all. Afternoon tea is a special treat that we do not indulge in every day, so why not live a little?

Time for tea...

Words & Photos: Jessica Clot

Confessions: I am a Shopaholic.A handbag will never treat you wrong. It will never tell you it’s leaving you. A handbag will respect your goals and aspirations. It will hold all the necessities you will need at any given time. A handbag, if on the rare occasion, breaks up with you, can be returned for another in great condition and your friends won’t judge you. It is a relationship that every woman over the legal age of sixteen should invest in. The same can be said for tailored blazers, chiffon dresses, jewelry, shoes, jumpers and cashmere scarves. On a more serious note, shopping, as with any addiction should be taken seriously. However, I am not

quite ready to deal with my current issues. People thought I was crazy to take a job in third year with dissertations and graduate job applications. But how else was I supposed to find means of spending on food and clothes and not be completely broke? I admit, I took a job to fund my spending habits, which, after a long reflection I think was an absolutely adult and mature thing to do.

According to The Guardian, shopping addiction, also known as oniomania, affects an estimated 8-16% of Britons. That’s a total of 8 million people, most of which are women. Whilst most people feel joy after

a purchase, they do not feel an overwhelming urge to get that ‘high’ again. Shopaholics, on the other hand, do. Psychologists have mentioned that those with a shopping compulsion get the same euphoric rush when making purchases as the one drug addicts get from using. This issue when left untreated can be very detrimental to one’s finances and interpersonal relations, as the need to spend can be overwhelming and one can find themselves unable to pay off ever mounting debt. The result of a shopping addiction can be a trigger for many others feelings such as high anxiety and stress that are detrimental to your health.

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As with any addiction there is light at the end of the tunnel. One way of treating compulsive shopping is behavioral therapy, where you learn how to control the impulses of spending and identify the roots of irrational consumer habits. In addition, it is also useful to undertake some money management classes to understand how to spend wisely. In fact, even if you think you have a mild shopping problem, money management classes are vital in helping prioritizing spending. So don’t do what I did and take a job just to fund your spending habits, (although this works for me), go out and solve the issue. On the other hand, when we hear confessions, we always think that one is about

to declare a sinful thing they did. Absolutely not, if shopping was a sin I’d be on a fast track to consumer hell. What I’d like to make clear is that, in the words of Luke Brandon, ‘cost and worth are very different things’, and right now I need to shop for an outfit for my graduation.

(Disclaimer: The writing of this article cost a total of £57 as significant stress was caused in thinking about the print deadline that consequently meant buying one pair of black patent Zara moccasins, a mustard Topshop turtleneck and some H&M t-shirts).

Words: Raifa Rafiq

STYLE // 17

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BECKY’S STYLE

The way I dress depends on how I feel - I usually have two variants: the casual black jeans, smart blouse and Chelsea ankle boots combo, or my girly dress, wooly tights and knee-high

boots. I like to pick bold, vibrant colours, and when teamed with my crazy curly hair, it’s enough to stand out from the crowd. Black jeans are my staple piece. They slim you down, hardly show

coffee stains, and go with anything. Since starting my job as a teaching assistant at a local high school, I have seen a huge difference in how I dress. I actually have to look somewhat

professional, demure and appropriately covered-up for working around teenage boys. This, coupled with my Editor in Chief tag, feels like it requires maturity in my style that won’t be

achieved by the old Converse and leggings look. That, I just save for the weekends.

DOLA’S STYLE

The clothes I wear are extremely comfortable, somewhat stylish and cheap. I don’t think I’ve ever spent more than £40 on an item of clothing other than a suit or a tux.

I think you can get away without spending a lot of money on clothes and still look pretty good. As President of the Queen Mary Students Union, I am very happy as my job allows me to keep my “student status” and hence keep on dressing like a student

(apart from those important university meetings, I have to look smart for those). I have a very busy lifestyle and so being able to wear jeans and a t-shirt makes my life

much easier, and comfier!

RAIFA’S STYLE

After five years of secondary school uniform, my sixth form implemented a business casual dress code, which meant that all I ever wore were blazers, shirts and skirts. This is possibly

where my addiction to formalwear stems from, on top of idolising Blair Waldorf’s style for the duration of my teenage years. My friends say I dress like an old lady because I like

clothes from M&S, BHS and Next instead of the young people stores, such as River Island or Topshop, (this is beginning to change). I’m also a Muslim girl so I always wear a hijab but my love of colours means that out of the fourty-two (I counted) scarves I own, only three are black. In one line, I would say I dress as if I will be called into a meeting at any time

during the day or that I’ll have to attend a surprise dinner in the evening.

POONAM’S STYLE

With regards to my style, as archetypal as this may sound - confidence is key. All you need is a sense of confidence and you can pull off anything in your wardrobe (within reason of

course). Therefore with regards to my style I feel confident and comfortable with anything I decide to throw on. For a normal day - going to uni and running errands - I always turn to my Hollister Super Skinny Jeans in any shade and wash of denim, a long sleeved round or v-neck top and my trademark Red Riding Hood cape, not forgetting my chunky “much

indie” platform Misguided boots of course! But when I’m out in London town clubbing in the West End and painting the town red in style, I always aim to channel glam but

sophisticated Poonam. Keepin’ it chic and classy!

“FASHION IS IN THE SKY, IN THE STREET, FASHION HAS TO DO WITH IDEAS,

THE WAY WE LIVE, WHAT IS HAPPENING.”

The world seems to be haunted by the need to attain a paramount state of beauty. Society now measures the value of a human being firstly

based on their outward appearance, while our thoughts and intelligence dust on a derelict platform. The hunt for ‘perfect’ has become even

fiercer with airbrushed models, plastic surgery and dieting taking centre-stage in our battle to reach a ‘better’ us.

Is it any wonder, then, that mental disorders such as anorexia and depression are spreading faster than ever? Unhappiness arises because

we refuse to stop comparing our physical forms and are constantly provided the means to carry on doing so, with this very vice feeding

our insecurities. This occurs more frequently with women, who are forever being encouraged to compete amongst themselves.

The portrayal of the female is without a doubt the harshest. The cut-throat media present to us two razor-sharp extremes - one that is a

persona of absolute faultlessness and one that is far from - and have refused variation, so that we have not only grown up in pursuit of ideals

One in every hundred suffers from body dysmorphia.

that we are yet to realise are unattainable, but have alsobeen discouraged to succumb to ‘fashion faux-pas’ or accept the natural or the plain. Magazines and movies provide us with unhealthy goals by demonstrating who we should aspire to be (or beat) and who we should shun. This life-long competition is encouraging us to segregate ourselves from one-another. In a time when we are fighting against the patriarchy, with 2014 being declared feminism’s best year, is the disintegration of a formed collective really helping?

And from an unhealthy thirst for absolute acceptance stems the intense desire to be the superior, to relish in other’s misfortunes in order to fashion a little more self-esteem. It’s a grim existence when all one needs to do is search ‘The Mail’ in order to be exposed to the day’s ‘targets’ - the celebs who look dismal and dull through lack of contouring and the absence of their trademark lipstick shades; the famous that have lost their ‘streamlined’ body shape and ‘taut tummy’ having suffered heartbreak or embraced motherhood; the owners of botched nose jobs and freshly-filled lips trying to slip away from ravenous photographers. It makes us content when we see those who we once associated with our ideas of flawlessness, the people we both envy and admire, only achieve their overall look after a flick of photoshop’s magic wand.

One in every hundred suffers from body dysmorphia. It may have seemed like a minuscule statistic, but it is worth remembering that this isn’t just numbers we’re talking about, it is people. One person in every hundred, someone with a brain and a heart and a presence as significant as ours, is constantly battling dark thoughts and believes themselves to be undeserving. As simple as it was to view that 1% as a mere percentage, it is now just as easy to rely on the number on those scales or your appearance in the mirror to judge you, to measure substance. It is ironic, then, that though we rely on our reflection to completely define us, the smoke and mirrors used by the media are harnessed not to show the truth but, by distorting it completely, enhance falsities.

Words: Maansi Kalyan

STYLE // 21

TIME TO TALK. Words: Mattea Todd

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In a 2013 survey, the NUS found that 20% of students would consider themselves to have a mental illness and 13% have experienced suicidal thoughts. Whether or not these statistics are still completely accurate, it is clear that mental illness in the student population is a much larger problem than we may realise, and it is an issue that is too often ignored. Awareness surrounding mental illness has increased in the past few years, it is still an issue that carries a huge amount of stigma, and sufferers often feel unable to share their experiences for fear of being judged.

The NHS say that many students who believe they have a mental illness are really suffering from stress, and are able to be treated simply by talking through their workload and making changes to the way they organise themselves. There are symptoms of mental illness to look out for; low mood, lack of motivation, weight loss or gain, decline in personal hygiene, poor lecture attendance, acting withdrawn or anxious, could all be signs of mental illness. Luckily there are avenues available to students, the easiest of which is right here on campus. QM has a dedicated mental health coordinator, who can be contacted via dds@qmul.ac.uk if you have concerns about your own mental health. Alternatively of course is the student health service on campus, and the website Students Against Depression has tips for coping with mental health, and accounts of other student’s experiences.

That said, cuts made to NHS mental health services over the past two years have left them drastically oversubscribed. In April 2014 there were 3,640 fewer nurses and 213 fewer doctors working in mental health than two years before. Patients waiting for cognitive behavioural therapy in London are placed

on a waiting list over two months long, in other parts of the country the wait is almost double that. Clearly something needs to be done to ensure that patients receive the appropriate treatment when they need it. Part of the way to achieve this will be to make mental health issues something we all feel able to talk about, so when cuts like these are made, there are people prepared to stand up and stop them.

5th February 2015 marks this year’s ‘Time to Talk’ day. The anti-stigma campaign Time For Change, a joint venture between the charities Mind and Rethink Mental Illness, are asking everyone to spend just 5 minutes talking about mental illness, and then log that time on to their website, in the hope of gathering 24 hours of time spent dispelling myths about mental illnesses. They are hoping that together, talking about mental health will break the taboo, and make it a topic we all feel comfortable discussing.

One of QMSU’s top priorities is tackling mental health issues on campus. Mashalle Asim, Vice President Welfare, is particulary keen to tackle the stigma:

As a student you go through many different stages in your life and often it is easy to become

confused which can lead to stress and other problems. This is why mental wellbeing is so important to take into consideration not only

for yourself but also for the people around you. As a person who has been through stress and anxiety, mental wellbeing is close to my heart

which is why it is a priority for me this year. I aim to tackle stigma, encourage conversation, promote getting active through exercise and to advertise

the amazing support services available at QMUL.

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nayyayIn light of recent economic debates focusing on foreign aid, the question of whether it is conducive to international development has occurred. It has also struck me that many people are reluctant to accept the benefits of foreign aid. Foreign aid has always been subject to much scrutiny, particularly due to recent exposures of underlying agreements attached to ‘humanitarian aid’. However, it is surprising to see how eager critics are to ignore the wholly beneficial effects of foreign aid on developing countries.

An important example to highlight the benefits of using foreign aid as an essential policy to help countries in need of an economic boost is the successes foreign aid has had battling Malaria. Studies have shown that the WTO’s prioritisation of malaria in the late 1990s and early 2000s led to a subsequent decline of malaria related deaths in Africa from around 1 million in 2004, to around 700,000 by 2010. These are figures we surely cannot ignore? Whilst malaria remains to be one of the most important threats to health and safety in many African and South Eastern countries, the availability of treatments to deal with this disease has increased, owing in part to foreign aid and the prioritisation of healthcare in global political agendas.

If we are to also consider foreign aid as a complimentary actor to curb the devastating effects of AIDS in sub-Saharan Africa, we cannot fail to agree on the overwhelmingly positive effects foreign aid can have. According to a UN Aid report, up to 10 million HIV-AIDS patients are receiving treatment and this number is only going to continue to rise if we continue to send the help we have. These small successes in ameliorating the consequences such devastating diseases proves that foreign aid, when devised carefully and with sufficient backing, can be a useful tool to ensure the betterment of international health, and moreover to the betterment of human life.

It is important to highlight that I’m not arguing for fully adopting foreign aid as the most important policy for international economic and healthcare development. What I’m arguing for is the idea of support. Foreign aid should remain an important safety net for many countries in need of extra help. After all, if we have the resources to help countries that need it, shouldn’t we try and work towards ensuring their needs are met as well as ours?

Words: Nour Kobayter

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nayyayFOREIGN AID

The western world is responsible for an unholy mess – whether it is due to the after effects of colonialism or the state we have left the Middle East in, there is no denying that put bluntly we just do not know what we are doing. There is of course one solution; a solution the system has taught us – unfailingly – will work which is money, lots and lots of money. Foreign aid buys into the idea that we can throw money at a problem and it will simply go away – that it won’t occupy space in our conscience any more. It’s the governmental equivalent of turning off the advert for water aid and just sending in money without thought.

There are two fundamental flaws with foreign aid. The first is that it is used as a bargaining chip. I hate to quote Nigel Farage but in response to the recent foreign aid bill that made its way through the House of Commons he stated that he believed aid to be an ‘arm of foreign policy.’ We use foreign aid to exercise power over countries that rely on our money - it is a bargaining chip so that countries we do not officially have power over, have to act in a way we want. It is much like Russia, or Saudi Arabia and their oligarchic hold on oil supplies.

The other problem is, of course, to which countries the aid is sent and then to whom the aid is distributed too. In 2013, £139 million was sent to Syria. The violence was not at the levels it is currently, but the government and rebel forces were still significantly opposed to one another. This is clearly an extreme example but where did that money go? Once the money leaves our coffers, obviously we stop tracking it - but perhaps bank rolling charities would be more effective. It certainly has to be better than sending money into war zones and to governments that are killing their own people, doesn’t it?

Foreign aid deserves more of a chance, but not in its current guise. Right now it “covers us” morally and can be used to get what we want, when we want from countries that rely on the money. Give more money to charity and care about what the money is achieving, rather than buying ourselves redemption with a flawed and corrupt system.

Words: Malachy O’Grady

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You think I'm crazy.

Mental illness. To me, it seems ridiculous that it is described so abruptly as an illness. It feels offensive to label the way I am as diseased. Anything I think or believe is tainted in ‘psychological’ error. This might seem dramatic (but who doesn’t love a bit of drama?) and this is because as a sufferer of ‘mental illness’, so they tell me, I understand that what they ‘diagnose’ is a part of who I am. How do you diagnose personality or what is really going on in my head, if you only have my answers to rely on? Before I encountered the system we have, I imagined that there must be some kind of chemical science test that you just enter data into, do a quick brain scan and there you go- you’re this, take these, goodbye. I was horrified to discover that it really is just sitting and talking and having to explain what I don’t even understand, plus it is just so much more awkward than you can imagine.

This only occurred after it took a year and a half of visiting the GP to ‘qualify’ for that pleasure, but this is because the service is so massively oversubscribed, there is nowhere near enough money spent on it. The demand has increased every year for the last three years, and yet each year funds have been cut. There has been an increase in people coming out and reassuring us that they, it’s okay, we’ll be cool about it- but why it is then, that depression and the like are still awkward topics? What reaction that occurs when some people reveal they’re depressed is often bizarre, and it’s a big part of why this article will be listed as anonymous (apologies to those who were planning on fan mail). I’ve often heard people comment, once they find an individual is depressed with things like ‘they were always laughing and joking and seemed fine’. I don’t know about anyone else, but by now I’ve become a professional in pretending to be okay and suppressing the urge to scream at people – especially those of you who stop to get things out

of your bag whilst mid stairs, being fully aware that people are behind you, you know who you are. Most of the time in public, I can keep it together. That’s not to say I’ll be winning any acting awards, there are odd (or frequent- whatever) moments when I let it slip.

A wonderful moment of life was when I lost my 2000 word essay whilst in the silent section of the library, proceeded to scream and cry, then run out, screaming and crying, and declaring that those present should all swear-word off and mind their own swear-wording business. Obviously, after I had calmed down, I did almost die of embarrassment. But I had to go back a few days later, I wore a hoody and would’ve gone full Kirsten Stewart and donned some big black shades, but I would’ve drawn a lot of attention as I walked in looking like some kind of human-fly-monster. Minus shades, I crept in with my head down and got out fast, because it was just so awful. Suddenly I just wanted to cry and ring my mum. And then boom, the next second I’m awesome again and everything seems fine. That’s what’s hard: the constant fluctuations. Even with medication, it is not fixed. It is still there, I’m just supposed to apply methods to ‘choose my perspective’. It is not like a broken leg that can be fixed, and that’s the whole point, and this is part of the problem society has in misunderstanding mental illness. I am supported by the NHS no question, and on paper there is nothing ‘wrong’ with having a mental illness. But, the fact people keep ‘distancing themselves from the stigma’ is because there most definitely still is stigma. Okay, so they don’t Cuckoo Nest us, but the words ‘mental illness’ make people nervous.

With regards to an answer or solution to such a huge issue, I have no clue. What do I know? I’m just crazy.

Words: Anonymous

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Picture the scene: it’s 1973, hundreds of kids are dressed up as Ziggy Stardust, waiting hours outside the Hammersmith Apollo just to catch a glimpse of their idol David Bowie. Think further back to 1960, with thousands of frenzied fans chasing The Beatles down the street, a phenomena the media could only call ‘Beatlemania’. Fandoms aren’t a new craze. The only difference is that nowadays, they have names: Beliebers, Directioners, and the Rihanna Navy to name but a few. Most mainstream pop acts have a fanbase who are stereotypically obsessive over their idols. These are people who are proud to be engaged with an act they love and form a community around it. It’s all perfectly healthy, right? Then again if you think of the lyrics to Eminem’s classic ‘Stan’, you might not be too far off.

Pathologising a fandom as something unhealthy is not uncommon and we often stereotype fangirls as hysterical and crazy. In August 2013, Channel 4 broadcast a documentary called ‘Crazy About One Direction’ and we were encouraged to laugh at the people with Harry Styles tattoos and houses full of merchandise. But we’ve all heard of the horrific stories of fans that went too far: after all, John Lennon’s “biggest fan” ended up killing him. Excessive fandom is widely mocked whilst simultaneously seen as ‘normal’ teenager behaviour, even though it can cause serious repercussions for singers. Whilst pop music has a mass market, some feel it is a ‘low value culture’ and the music that is produced is manufactured and lacks artistic merit. Whether this is true or not, needless to say a fanbase can be a nightmare for the artist.

Fandoms are sometimes overbearing and often harm the image of the artist. Good ol’ Justin Beiber is perfectly capable of causing his PR Company to break out in a sweat in a matter of minutes, but he has become just as famous for having hysterical fans. In 2013, a campaign stormed Twitter with #CutForBieber trending worldwide. Fans tweeted pictures of their slashed wrists in hopes of convincing Biebs to stop smoking cannabis. Although it was a hoax, kids legitimately started posting pictures. Will the craziness end? Probably not. A few weeks ago model Lara Stone received death threats from Beliebers for that infamous Calvin Klein shoot, and the list goes on and on.

So are fandoms ruining the modern pop star? Ultimately; no. I don’t think there is a definite line between ‘being a fan’ and being ‘obsessed’, but there is a massive flashing sign showing what’s healthy and what’s not. Social media has helped people form communities around the madness. People make friends, as they know they’re not the only one who is “totes obsessed” – an idea and issue that teenagers often struggle with. But whether the singer is truly ‘in love’ with their fans (or their money), you have to admit it is a genius marketing strategy and it isn’t about to slow down any time soon. It’s all a part of a larger cultural narrative at this point. So I guess we’ll have to deal with some annoying tweets every now again.

Leave the fangirling to the kids, go buy a record, and just enjoy the music.

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MUSICAL MEDICINE

There are many points in everyone’s life where a bit of a pick-me-up is required. A present of sorts, but for you and you alone. These points may come at many different times. Perhaps particular stress-ridden exams are rapidly approaching, or maybe the mounting paperwork from your job is beginning to resemble Everevst, or perhaps your pet goldfish has taken a turn for the worst. And what I would like to put forth here, is that the perfect pick me up is to go and see your favourite band play live.

What is there not to like about going to see a great band? As you enter into a gig’s dark yet luminescent atmosphere, you walk into a room of people, whom you are now connected to; not only by that joint sensation of walking upon the beer-soaked, slightly adhesive floor, but that robust connection of shared music tastes. With an ice cold beverage in hand, the

support act release their sweet melodies onto the anticipatory crowd, and here lies one of the most exciting elements of going to gigs: your introduction to new music.

I remember two years ago going to a performance by Kodaline, supported by a relatively unknown, long-haired man with guitar in hand. The crowd were relatively disinterested, but as his set his progressed, slowly but surely, the audience were drawn to him. By the end, he had amassed and uplifted the crowd, drawing them together in shared experience. Whilst watching the astounding set, of a young man who turned out to be James Bay, smiles were abound, and the audience began speaking to each other about his set. I think this captures the quintessence of gigs, its ability to draw people together and give everybody a feeling of novelty. You are experiencing something that no one, except

from those of you in the room, will ever experience.

Finally, the headliners walk on stage, who now seem, in the charged atmosphere, deified figures. The crowd erupts into a collective motion of boogying grooves. As your hips sway, your mind is cathartically cleansed of all your troubles, all that remains is your wonderment as you try to guess the next song.

As you wake up the next morning, the smudged stamp on your hand and the ringing in your ears reminds you of your awesome evening. You danced all night, saw something no one else will see, and experienced the excitement of live performance. You look, with hope and confidence now, towards your exam revision, your heap of paperwork and slightly unwell goldfish, and know that last night, you chose the right treat for yourself.

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It’s hard not to love Queen.

Many consider them as one of the greatest English rock bands of all time, and I think that everyone has experienced the joy of realising that they know all the words to ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ off by heart. Their legacy as a band continues to this day, and the excitement of the crowd was palpable at their first sold out show at London’s O2 Arena this January.

Of course, it’s hard to think of Queen without immediately remembering the enigmatic frontman that undoubtedly made them so popular. It’s been 24 years since Freddie Mercury died, and acting lead singer Adam Lambert was the first to pay tribute to him, telling the crowd “I would have no fucking idea what I was doing up here if it wasn’t for Freddie. I love him just as much as you”.

Words: Elly Watson

It’s important to note that in no way is Lambert a Freddie impersonator, but, by God, can he hit the notes in a way that would make Freddie proud. He has brought a new lease of life to the band and as he struts around stage in high heels and leather trousers, his charisma and talent are clear for all to see.

As for the two remaining original members, the hair may be greyer and the guts may be more pronounced, but the skills are still there. Yes, Brian May and Roger Taylor may have indulged in one too many solos, but who cares? They’re Brian May and Roger Taylor, and frankly they have earned the right.

The 23-song set was the sing-a-long fest that everyone wanted. Hands were in the air and

often tears were flowing, especially as May performed ‘Love of My Life’, a song he used to sing with Freddie, as a video of the man himself played in the background. The use of the videos of Freddie was a beautiful touch to the show, and as Lambert performed his own virtual duet with Mercury during ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’, it was striking how closely their vocal range matched.

No one will ever be able to replace Freddie, this much is obvious. But Lambert has the vocal range and can command the stage in a similar way, and the band seem to genuinely have a great time up there together. The entire show was exciting and uplifting. As Freddie once said “I like people to go away from a Queen show feeling fully entertained, having had a good time”, and he would not have been disappointed.

The Show Must Go On

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SYDBARRETT

I’ve always responded quite well to the figure of Syd Barrett and it is incredible how he’s always so beautifully described by his old friends or former partners. He was beautiful and charming (girls would literally throw themselves at him), a funny guy full of wit, certainly a visionary. A bright light that burned too quickly. People were very much aware of his strangeness, at the beginning little extravagant things like the fact that he never used to tie his shoelaces and later more serious manifestations. He was an all-round artist.

Most remarkably he took music in unpredictable directions. Musically and lyrically he developed one of the most successful musical recipes in history, becoming an institution of British psychedelia. Unfortunately, his inconsistent behavior and the fact that the other band members didn’t know what to do with him led to his replacement with David Gilmour.

The combination of strong creativity, general sensitivity and mental health problems is surely not unusual. I can only imagine the amount of things going on in the heads of people like Syd Barrett and it’s not surprising how,

lacking orthodox measures, creative talents often turn to alcohol and drugs. Both as an expansion of the hyper reality they are already inclined to explore or as coping mechanism. This is in no way a celebration of drug or alcohol abuse but it is clear that in contemporary society these problems are often understood as a vice and not as a manifestation of deeper issues.

Barrett’s emotional and mental instability are reflected in his work, especially in live and trance-like performances with deep plunges into obscure, violent, distorted and certainly frightening sounds, like in ‘Interstellar Overdrive’ from Pink Floyd’s The Piper at the Gates of Dawn, the first and only album featuring Barrett as a permanent member. It’s difficult to decide whether he was in control of what moved him or if he let that force control him. That’s probably what makes his process so beautiful and innovating. It’s also true that psychedelic drugs haad a serious effect on him, but as they were a catalyst for his vivid imagination they were also a propagator of deeper instabilities which led Gilmour to believe that Syd’s breakdown would have happened anyway. Although it’s in his solo albums, where the songs are

darker, that it feels like listening to a real depiction of his breakdown.

It’s not a coincidence that so many musicians have substance abuse related problems, the issue is that these features have become part of the larger tradition of rock’n’roll. It’s the rockstar cliché where drugs and music often go hand in hand. Unfortunately the ‘too much partying’ is often mixed up with actual mental disorders which tend to go under the radar because of the glorified persona of the rock legend or simply dismissed as party antics. In the 60s, the people surrounding Barrett were probably in no state to help him but there’s a tendency to attribute strange behaviors verging on schizophrenia to a larger picture of ‘the extravagant musician’. What really emerges under the façade of the rock’n’roll life is a constellation of truly fragile figures and the ever present inadequacy of the people at their side, of the industry and society at large.

Words: Claudia Manca

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Beneath the scrutinising lens held up each February, all in the name of prestige, the Academy Awards too allows for a moment amidst the chaos to pause and simply look. By glimpsing through the polished façades of finished films and observing their creators, the expectations beneath are simultaneously smashed, reminding audiences of the stories they never get to see.

Two films - Boyhood and Wild - two journeys that remained beneath the public’s radar for over a decade, are now lit with exposure and praise and contend as front-runners at this year’s Oscars ceremony.

The films’ single-word titles conceal their lengthy, complex life-experience narratives, while referencing their paradox as simple, identifiable stories. Both films set off in search for unknown resolutions and yet deliberately arrive with ‘no great revelations at the end’ (British GQ), just human experience. While it important to recognise that directors and writers often create stories to stimulate cathartic audience responses, Boyhood and Wild belong to a unique class of films in which their process of being written may just be more significant than the completed films themselves.

The film adaptation of Cheryl Strayed’s memoir, Wild: A Journey from Lost to Found, tells of Strayed’s 1,100 mile journey along the Pacific Crest Trail following her divorce, a drug addiction, and her mother’s death and is produced by its star, Reese Witherspoon’. It should quickly be noted however, ‘eat-pray-love this is not’ (British GQ). Similarly devoid of clichés is Richard Linklater’s coming of age, Boyhood, a twelve year portrayal in the life of Mason, the film’s protagonist, and in real-time to Ellar Coltrane who portrayed him. The cathartic elements of both films are founded in their quasi-autobiographical fictions. Both compelling stories, yet derived from the reality of simply being human,

Linklater himself admitted, ‘I would occasionally get these insecure flashes. Is it enough? Should I be telling a bigger story?’ (The Guardian), yet it is his conception of the premise itself that tells the story. As a film which presents all ‘the little things that don’t [normally] have a place in

a movie’ (The Dissolve), Boyhood disobeys narrative conventions and deliberately evokes flaws. Linklater in particular, acknowledged his anxieties towards parenting at this year’s Golden Globes; ‘we’re all flawed in this world, no-one’s perfect’, even dedicating his Best Director win ‘to families who are just passing through this world and doing their best’.

The sentiment is shared by Strayed’s memoir and adaptation, ‘What if I forgave myself even though I’d done something I shouldn’t have?’ The unashamed tone of both films subsequently also reveals a self-acceptance, not only as the films’ existences themselves are somewhat miraculous, but because they are so willing to be just exactly what they are, subverting and re-defining the expectations of each of their respective genres, coming-of-age and self-discovery.

Most of us instinctively identify with insecurities; both Linklater and Strayed, though vulnerable, tell their stories of fearfulness, fearlessly. When it feels as if the whole world is watching, they simply stare right back at the world. ‘I had gone from being this aspiring writer who would have profound aloneness in my little room when I was writing, then I went into the world […] and that room became bigger’, Strayed tells Oprah. Deciding to tell a story consequently becomes the most important step for writers and filmmakers in not only acknowledging their flaws but recognising that their stories only emerged because of these flaws.

On 22nd February, both films deserve to win Academy Awards; however, even if they walk away empty-handed, Linklater and Strayed can preserve a private dignity in their acknowledgement that they made the walk at all. With their narratives now irretrievably imprinted in cinema, the catharsis of both films extends beyond their creators and even beyond audiences, to future storytellers yet to make their journey. If Linklater’s and Strayed’s stories are anything to go by, have patience, self-belief and most importantly, a pair of comfortable shoes you just might grow into.

Words: Gemma HoltIllustrations: Janessa Baber

CatharsisLOVE IS A NINE LETTER WORD:

Who am I?SINISTER SOLIPSISM IN ‘NIGHTCRAWLER’Words: Laura Staab

The first shot of Nightcrawler is a blank billboard. Lou Bloom (Jake Gyllenhaal) is this blank billboard; apparently void of humanity, with a capacity to shape-shift to the whims of a capitalist society – he is a most absorbent acolyte of its individualism, and, as such, despite his severe lack of self, is one of cinema’s most solipsistic characters in recent years.

Lou’s dictum, always delivered with a smile (one part disconcertingly overeager child to two parts salesman), is:

If you want to win the lottery, you have to make enough money to buy a ticket.

What if my problem wasn’t that I don’t understand people, but that I don’t like them!?

Not for him the wait and indeterminable fate of a lottery, however. Instead, he adopts the figure of the eponymous nightcrawler; not, unfortunately, the hysterically bizarre antics of Charlie and Frank in It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, but the game of scouring LA for violence, in order to film it for television news. Lou quickly ascertains that the spectacle of violence, like that of sex, sells. And you have to make enough money... if not to buy a lottery ticket, then for what, exactly?

That Gyllenhaal lost a significant amount of weight for this role is, unlike other awards-orientated stunts, significant to the character in a subtle manner; Lou is unconcerned by (ostensibly human) superfluities in life. In his hollowed cheeks is reflected his sparse apartment, his lonely existence – in the emptiness of those, the fact that his obsessive drive to ladder-climbing progress is, ultimately, an attempt to satiate the insatiable. Never mind, though – this is the game of consumerism; he is conditioned to think he might win, and he will always want to play.

Indeed, Lou aspires to wealth only in that it is concomitant with individual power and status in a capitalist society. He has to make enough money in order to play that game, a game that can and will be rigged, and in which no amount of money is ever ‘enough’. The way in which he feeds on these lessons manifested by those in superior/ authority positions is systematic yet rabid; like artificial intelligence ‘gone wrong’, he learns survival of the fittest and devours the bodies themselves.

The expenditure of human life in the narrative Lou carefully curates and creates for himself is alarming in and of itself, but the ease with which he executes his stories is most incredible. Hollywood often tries to ply the masses with the consolatory idea that those who exploit and profit from others pay in remorse, or in a pitiable inability to connect with the wider world. Nightcrawler, conversely, reveals what I expect is sometimes the intolerable truth – that those with power are too self-interested to ever give a shit. Lou maniacally screams,

– a sentiment that would sit well in Gyllenhaal’s early role of a witty and wise outsider adolescent in Donnie Darko, but rings disturbingly, too real, here.

In interview with The Guardian, Gyllenhaal posits his character as ‘the superhero of a generation’. Ordinarily, I like Gyllenhaal. He says this, however, not with depressing acceptance, but seemingly with genuine enthusiasm. Perhaps Gyllenhaal, after acting the role for so long, empathises with Lou as an enterprising man in difficult times. This is a fallacy. Lou Bloom must never be superhero to the people, for his similarity to whatever disgusting man slithers around in Ayn Rand’s wet dreams.

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From Psycho to Fight Club, American Beauty to Rain Man, mental health has always been an intriguing subject for filmmakers. Oftentimes films are critcised for the perceived trend in portrayals of the mentally unwell as either violent or simpletons; think Patrick Bateman butchering women in American Psycho versus Jim Carrey in Ace Ventura, prancing around in a pink tutu. Seeing how major films cannot help but inform our collective assumptions, shouldn’t we be striving for films that render the issue in a more sympathetic manner, with deeper and more complex exploration of mental health, rather than those that perpetuate long overdrawn stereotypes?

David O Russell’s quirky Silver Linings Playbook exploded onto the film scene in 2012 and earned its place among the most successful of the long list of films that deal with mental health. Bradley Cooper plays a bi-polar history teacher, recently released from a psychiatric hospital for almost beating to death a colleague for sleeping with his wife, whilst Jennifer Lawrence takes on the role of love interest, as a promiscuous widower and sufferer of some undisclosed illness brought on by the death of her husband.

Although its success at the awards ceremonies was undeniable, beneath the surface, Silver Linings has divided critics. Does it, in fact, represent a fresh new way of incorporating a tricky subject into a semi-generic rom-com recipe, tackling the stigmas associated with mental illness? Or does it merely trivialize and cheapen what is at heart an inescapably complex issue by displacing true psychiatric treatments—medication and therapy—with the notion that ‘love conquers all’?

Yes, on the one hand Silver Linings does a very good job of showing us that psychiatric illnesses are not a death sentence, that life continues and there is always scope for sufferers to find happiness as well as to function in their relationships and the world in general. On the other, the plot has been heavily criticised for the happily-ever-after conclusion in which two people with very complex, destructive conditions are apparently cured simply by finding one another—and, of course, through the power of the dance montage. Psychiatrist Steven Scholzaman has said that “falling in love is an absolutely awesome, wonderful thing, but it’s not going to cure bipolar disorder any more than it’s going to cure diabetes”, though he did note that it can have limited therapeutic benefits.

Whilst we can praise Silver Linings for having a mature and sensitive approach to its subject, and for its ability to handle serious content in an oftentimes humorous manner, without resorting to laughing at people with mental illnesses, what we have to remember is that at the end of the day we are dealing with a mainstream, romantic comedy film, and subsequently we must take it with a pinch of salt.

In 2015 we like to imagine that we have a mature attitude and understanding when it comes to mental illness, but of course there’s still a long way to go before judgments and stigmas have ceased to be a problem, and there’s no arguing that movies do have their part to play. Here’s hoping we keep striving for better.

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Words: Sarah Garnham

Cucumber, Banana, Tofu: the grades of erection and also the name of Russell T Davies’ (Doctor Who, Queer as Folk) show about sex, love and relationships. The series stretches across Channel 4’s three main mediums – Channel 4, E4 and 4oD and begins this month.

Cucumber is the story of a middle aged gay couple and the cracks in their relationship are beginning to show. It’s about them and their sex lives, but also the other younger men they know and what it’s like to be gay now. Cucumber begins the trilogy on Channel 4 and plays for an hour each week.

Banana is a half an hour show that follows on from Cucumber and screens on E4 straight after. This will be much more character focused and based on smaller, less important characters from Cucumber - giving them the chance to tell their own short story. Although it makes more sense to watch these together, it could be watched separately.

Tofu on the other hand, is a series of documentaries, to be screened on 4oD about all the aspects of sex, hosted by Benjamin Cook (journalist and YouTube vlogger). For anyone who has seen his series Becoming YouTube, he told me ‘it’s like that, but about sex’.

Back in September I signed up to take part in the show. Having a presence on sites like Tumblr, I had seen friends and followers express concern and worry about getting to their late teens and early twenties without losing their virginity. As someone in the same situation, I thought that by going on what was to be a popular show, and expressing my thoughts, I might be able to let people know that it’s not a big deal, and there are other people going through the same thing.

My interview was conducted in October, where I arrived to a gigantic house in Highgate at 10am. Before the interview I found myself getting nervous as not only was I about to talk about quite a personal topic with Ben Cook and a number of production team members, but it would soon be on 4oD for the world to see. I sat in a big armchair across a huge bed from Ben, and although it was initially awkward, conversation soon began to flow and I think I managed to get across what I wanted to say.

The series gives us a representation of older gay men, something not many uni students will be familiar with, as well as younger gay men and how they contrast. This is going to open up a lot of talk in the media about the stereotypes and what is chosen to be shown or not and, by breaking a lot of sexual taboos, provide more opportunities for discussion.

Catch Cucumber, Banana and Tofu online now at channel4.com/on-demand

Loving Yourself Sometimes Means Leaving.When I say the words ‘domestic abuse’ to you, what do you think of? A black eye hastily covered in concealer? A ring of purpling bruises on the wrist where they’ve held you against your will? Being shoved when things aren’t going their way?

With 1 in 4 women falling victim to domestic abuse in their lifetime (WomensAid.org), the figures speak volumes. And it’s not just women - men constituted just over a quarter of incidents of domestic violence in 2010, according to the British Crime Survey. Even more worryingly, police suspect half of the cases aren’t actually reported.

The one question our culture often asks of victims of domestic abuse is: “Why do/did you stay in an abusive relationship?” or “Why didn’t you just leave?”. Sometimes the question is meant as an honest inquiry. However, often it is spoken with an undercurrent of hostility or disbelief, sending out the message that those who stay in abusive relationships are somehow to blame for their abuse.

Yet, not all domestic abuse is violent, and not all domestic abuse can be seen. In fact, it can very well be underhanded or subtle. This is psychological abuse, which is also known as mental or emotional abuse. It can take various forms: belittling, threats, humiliation, domination of control, unreasonable jealously… the list goes on.

I myself, was a victim of psychological abuse. It took me years, and a shocked university friend to make me realise it, but I was.

I guess being with him on and off for six years was never going to win a ‘Relationship of the Year’ award, was it? It’s all very well saying ‘God, I’d never let that happen to me’, but when it’s actually you in the relationship, and you’re head over heels in love, it’s hard not to be blindsided. You trust them, and you convince yourself that they’d never intentionally hurt you.

But he did. He constantly put me down, said he hated my hair, spent hours convincing me to join the gym to lose ‘some fat’ (I was a size 10), belittled me in front of his mates for ‘bants’, used sarcasm as a tool, made me feel thick, and usually twisted everything to be somehow my fault. I’d confront him about texting other girls behind my back, usually filled with provocative messages, and he’d convince me that it was my fault because I wasn’t giving him enough attention. He even went as far as to text me asking for a Orange Wednesday code so he can take out this girl ‘friend’ to the cinema. I later found out he’d been sleeping with her.

I can hear you screaming at me through the page. I am too; I want to shake my younger self and tell her to escape, that she’s worth more than that. But honestly, you have a completely different perspective from the inside. I would love to say that the day we argued (over another of his conquests, of course), and he pinned me up against the wall in temper, leaving bruises on my chest, I realised there and then that I needed to get rid. But I’m ashamed to say I didn’t. He loved me so much you see, he couldn’t help but lose his temper and it would never happen again.

It took me moving away to university to realise that I could survive without him, and it took him openly cheating on me and finding a new girlfriend (I’m guessing three months without easy access to sex was the deal-breaker), to force me to break free. And since then, I’ve discovered he’d cheated on me with eight separate girls over the course of our relationship. And you know what? I don’t care.

I actually want to thank him publicly: thank you for not being able to keep it in your pants whilst I went and made something of myself. Thank you for finally making me see, after all these years, what an absolute bastard you were and still are. And thank you, for giving me no choice but to escape the absolute toxicity that was our relationship.

If you need help and avdvice regarding domestic abuse, ring the 24/7 Domestic Abuse Helpline in partnership with Refuge and WomensAid on 0808 2000 247 or visit www.refuge.org.uk

Words: Becky Hipkiss

UNISEX

// 41

As you can probably tell from the title, I suffer with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. OCD is a disorder which is often widely misunderstood as a tendency to be ‘neat and tidy’, when in reality, it can be much more distressing than this. I hope to relate my experiences of OCD in a humorous way in order to ridicule this anxiety-inducing disorder and to encourage people to talk about mental health issues in general, as I believe it is important to share experiences so that we can learn from each other and support each other.

OCD is an anxiety disorder which often causes sufferers to believe that something awful will happen if they do not take actions to protect themselves and their loved ones. This creates a vicious cycle because sufferers will experience extreme anxiety which is often triggered by the idea that something terrible could happen. In order to reduce their anxiety and to dispel this thought, the sufferers will often carry out ‘rituals’, or tasks, such as repeating actions multiple times, arranging objects symmetrically, or repeating a mantra in their head.

However, by carrying out such rituals, the individuals actually worsen their anxiety and their OCD behaviours, as the sufferers will come to associate the ritual with an improvement in their anxiety symptoms, thus they will become dependent upon the rituals to make themselves feel better in future. And so the distressing cycle continues.

Of course, every individual experience of OCD is different, and some sufferers may be more concerned with germs, which is often referred to as ‘Contamination OCD’, which may involve the sufferer washing their hands multiple times or avoiding places or things that they believe to be dirty.

This is one of my main issues, and to illustrate this I’d like to challenge the notion that everything should be shared within a relationship. I am all for the idea of being open and honest with your other half, however there are some things that should be kept separate. Like toothbrushes.

It was an overcast spring morning and I had gone to the kitchen to make myself and my boyfriend a cup of tea. The kitchen door opened. I turned from the sink to see my boyfriend, in his boxers, using my toothbrush. Something inside me snapped. ‘What are you doing?!’ I screamed, wrestling the toothbrush from his grip and sterilising it with the water from the recently boiled kettle. ‘Well, it’s only the same as kissing isn’t it?’ he said, bewildered, in a feeble attempt to justify his actions. No. Just no. Scraping the plaque and removing the old bits of food from your teeth is NOT the same as kissing. I had to sit down for half an hour to steady my nerves and, two vodka shots later, I was ready to look him in the eye again.

Take my honesty and my openness, but my generosity stops at my toothbrush.

Words: Katie GillCOLUMNIST

The (Neat and Orderly) Ramblings of an Obsessive Compulsive

‘I turned from the sink to see my boyfriend, in his boxers, using my toothbrush...’

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Eliza Minnelli once declared: ‘you should know a really wealthy older man who’s terribly charming and takes you wonderful places, then someone vital who’s crazy about what they do. And then somebody who’s name you don’t know who you see twice a week.’

Now thanks to a certain dating App which has grown increasingly popular in the last year or so (you know what I’m talking about), I was able to cross off my New York bucket list the one which I never thought I would: go on a Manhattan date. Piano guy (for that shall be his name, as writing an entire article about him, funnily, never came up in conversation), is twenty-five and lives in a beautiful brownstone, in the trendy neighbourhood of Park Slope, Brooklyn. And yet, now as I am dating this piano player, who lives in my dream house in Brooklyn, I completely see Eliza’s point. He’s great. But my British, dry humour is at times lost on him and the conversation can be slow. Yet, he’s passionate, talented and very considerate of a girl’s needs (I was a lucky girl).

I have never understood the attraction of polyamorous relationships until recently. You would never just have one friend, so why do we assume that one partner will fulfil all the requirements needed in a companion in our lives: good conversation, good company and good… copulating.

In New York, there is too much choice. Exhibitions, shows, galleries, museums, new neighbourhoods, new restaurants, new fads… From watching a midnight performance of the Rocky Horror Show with a naked man thrusting in your face, to an illusion-performing artist

who floods his stage with cardboard boxes, New York provides the ability to partake in anything you want. You can order Insomnia cookies until four in the morning, where they will bring to your door your choice of cookies and a glass of milk to lighten the revision load. ’S’mac’ allows you to custom make your own macaroni and cheese dish, from cheeses such as Gruyere to Brie to cheddar to... you get the gist. So does the huge population, endless possibilities and generally more liberal outlook of the city, allow you to pick and choose your own relationship?

Most of my friends out here are balancing more than one partner in some form or another, whether that’s in an open relationship or going on numerous Tinder dates, sometimes four in one weekend. I feel polyamory is a concept which is yet to fully swim over from New York into our British Waters, yet I do wonder whether it derives from the city’s infinity of choice or perhaps the New Yorkers’ realisation that one place, profession or even person can’t fulfil everything.

Words: Roya EslamiCOLUMNIST

SEX AND THE CITY, AND THEN SOME.

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MNS // 43

Special ThanksWithout your support, this print issue simply wouldn’t have happened.

A huge thank you to the Faculty of Humanities and Social Sciences

at QMUL for saving us when we thought all hope was lost. For

this, we are eternally grateful and we hope you enjoy the amazing,

thought-provoking words of your students in this issue. We also thank the Arts and

Culture Fund for generously supporting this project, in a hope to tackle the stigma of

mental health through the issue’s theme of ‘Love Yourself’.

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WHATDOYOULOVEABOUTYOURSELF?

#timetotalk