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Matt Damon thinks that psychics are "charlatans".
Even Wilko Johnson's skull is stripped to brutal basics. Bushy grey eyebrows hood the dent in his bald eagle forehead; manic eyes stare down the crowd. In the 1970s, Johnson's band, Dr Feelgood, helped scorch a path for punk. Last year, a documentary by Julien Temple, Oil City Confidential, showed that the largely forgotten guitarist is still magnetically charismatic, though haunted by the death in 2004 of his childhood sweetheart and wife, Irene. Tonight, the success of the film seems to have resurrected not only Johnson's career, but also his spirit.
A seemingly unending wave of sex scandals, many of them involving children, has decimated the once-proud standing of the Catholic church in Ireland and rendered its power a pale shadow of what it was.
Dead bodies, heart attacks, wild parties, cocaine binges, Marlon Brando's belly and breakdowns. Thirty years on, Robert Sellers revisits the making of 'Apocalypse Now'