FILM: 'Lucy' in the Sky with LOTS of Blue Diamonds

Summer movies are a time for big-budget, popcorn-level ridiculousness. But is it too much to ask us to use our brain? OK, how about 1.4% of our brain.

Brain power is the topic at hand in French director Luc Besson's new film Lucy. Besson is a man not known for subtlety, realism, or depth, but they all can't be Bergman can they?

The conceit of Lucy (let me keep it brief as not to offer too many spoilers) is that humans normally only use 10% of our cerebral power (a widely spread cliche), so what if by chemical means, humans could use more: 20, 30, 40, up to 100%? The means? Obviously, it is having massive amounts of synthetic hormones surgically inserted into your body as a drug mule (in a very unsafe looking thin plastic sack).

Scarlett Johansson is one such (albeit unwitting) drug mule. The fun of the "get to the chase" set-up of the movie is palpable. There is barely an intro to her character before she is thrust into a world of killer Taiwanese mobsters, locked briefcases, assassins, chases, guns blazing, and mysterious surgeries.

The Run Lola Run fast-paced flight of the film is a gas. Taiwan to Berlin to Paris, it all whizzes by. No matter how this party girl student becomes knowledgeable in heavy firearm use, acrobatic fight choreography, learning foreign languages, massive amounts of cash to buy designer heels and same-day international, first-class flights from Asia to Europe (she's a student, right?), it can all be explained away.

Bright blue crystal superdrugs.

You should expect no less from the creator of The Professional, The Fifth Element, and a Joan of Arc reboot. Besson is ridiculous and if you shut off your brain, you can learn to love him too.

MUSIC: Time for 'Church'

Sinead O'Connor's new album I'm Not Bossy, I'm the Boss is out this month and this, the lead single is out now. Her last album, 2012's How About I Be Me, was a better than you'd expect, a somewhat return to form. Even with that DREADFUL cover art, it was her best album since 1994's Universal Mother.

The new single is a big anthemic pop number, Sinead in 'rock-out' vibe. Every one of her album's has a few to go along with the delicate, beautiful ballads. She'll never be 19 and angry again (we have to let it go), so it will never be The Lion and the Cobra (just as The Cure will never get back Kiss Me, Morrissey will never get another The Queen is Dead, etc.)

For a 47-year-old mother of four, she can still rip off wigs, rock bald heads, and strike a guitar chord in a tight dress like a true star.

MUSIC: La Rude

Taking five years to make your long-awaited second album has killed careers. If you don't believe me, check out The Stone Roses' Second Coming or Elastica's The Menace. They both never recovered.

2009 saw the debut album release of the androgynously elfin Elly Jackson (aka La Roux). Released amid the "Girls with Synths" flush of 2008-09 (a genre I also coined as 'The L Word Ladies'; La Roux, Little Boots, Ladyhawke, Lady Gaga; I know I'm missing a few), her debut album stood out among the clan. Not only did her junior Tilda Swinton looks disengage her from the blonde sexpots, her flutey, sometimes shrill vocals made her even more distinct. It's 21st century pop; you've got to stand out somehow because the market is flooded.

After years of resting up, throat issues, splitting with bandmates (Ben Langmaid was her writing partner/keyboardist, the silent/hidden other half a la Will Gregory of Goldfrapp), nerves, etc., she's come back with Trouble in Paradise (indeed). Gone is most (not all) of the tinny, trebley, shrill "electronics only" approach of the self-titled debut. Having said that, gone is a lot of the thrill of her laptop take on the early '80s synthpop of Yaz and Eurythmics. There is no 'Bulletproof' here.

Trouble has a warmer, slightly fuller sound to combat the cries of her being a one-style wonder or aping the debut. But where as La Roux was full on 1983, Trouble is full on 1986. It should be written in stone somewhere, the early '80s beats the mid '80s every time.

There are a few bright spots on the album though, don't get me wrong. Opener 'Uptight Downtown' adds the strum of funk guitar and a smoother singing style overall (keeping this up for most of the album):

Several tracks on the LP follow this style, sort of if a lightweight version of Grace Jones' early '80s backing band was fronted by a young Annie Lennox. OK, maybe not as cool as that sounds.

Trouble does get its mid 80s spirit right; the album is only nine tracks long - some killer ('Sexotheque', some filler ('Paradise is You'). But I have faith in Jackson to come back with another album sooner rather than later. Here's hoping she follows kindred spirit Lennox's path, but avoids the "We like guitars!"/rock-isms of Eurythmics' Revenge and goes straight for Eurythmics' Savage.