august book and film review

BOOKS

DAVID COPPERFIELD, by Charles Dickens. A young boy is orphaned and finds himself in the clutches of 2 emotionally repressed martinets. But he escapes and carves his own path to success. Described by the great one himself as his favourite book (he cited Martin Chuzzlewit as his best, which is slightly different)and perhaps this is because it is also his most autobiographic. Dickens has a marvellous flair for character, as we see here with Mr Micauber, Uriah Heep and the perfectly hideous Murdstones. To me Dickens does not quite ascend the heights of Middlemarch or, say, Persuasion, but he is certainly a master of the story-telling art. Both my wife and my "tutor" Richard Gwyn suggest I should try Bleak House next- the perspective of time has now given it the mantle of his greatest creation. Come back to me next year on that one.
PUT ME BACK ON MY BIKE (In search of Tom Simpson), by Arthur Fotheringham. In his day Tommy Simpson was Britain's greatest ever racing cyclist. He may now have been eclipsed by Chris Hoy and Mark Cavendish, but Simpson will hold his place in history for his tragic end: dying of a combination of dehydration, heat-stroke and amphetamine intoxication on the cruel slopes of the Ventoux in the 1967 Tour de France. In a work of fine journalism, Fotheringham attempts, with some difficulty, to separate the man from the legend. A supremely driven man, clearly prepared to risk everything, even his life, in search of victory. Very readable.
BOY WITH A TRUMPET (short stories)by Rhys Davies. Having submitted 5 of my own short stories for this year's Rhys Davies Prize, I thought it only fair I should familiarise myself with the eponymous one. Also, call it a bit of a shiboleth, if you like. I found a number of good, if not absolutely brilliant, stories of Welsh life from the late 40s and 50s. The exception is the story which gives the book its name. This one, definitely the best, tells the story of an emotionally damaged young man whom a prostitute takes under her wing in the chaos of wartime London. This was deep, mysterious and evocative of an era in a way superior to anything I have written. Don't worry, though: I'm still working on it.
VULCAN 607, by Rowland White. As the Falklands are occupied by the Argentine military in April 1982, an audacious plan is hatched in London to bomb the only airstrip on the islands. Small problem: London is 8000 miles from Port Stanley, and the only aircraft that are capable of carrying out the mission are about to be mothballed. In order to achieve their aim, an elaborate system of in-flight re-fuelling must be devised, and if the slightest thing goes wrong, the planes won't make it home. On the front cover it states that Jeremy Clarkson loved it, which is scarcely a recommendation. However, the simplistic writing style, which reads a bit like Dan Brown writing non-fiction: short chapters, lots of italics, including whenever a character's thoughts are described. The result is highly addictive reading. I flashed through it in less than a week, though not as fast as Simon Winchester, who allegedly "read it at one sitting", which, as it is over 500 pages long, is quite an achievement. That, or the guy has way too much time on his hands...

FILMS

FINAL DESTINATION FIVE (3D) 2011, D- Steven Quale. A young man has a premonition of his awful demise and, along with some friends, manages to avoid his fate. But Death will not be denied his due... That's right, this latest offering in the highly successful franchise follows an identical format to all the others: pretty girls and personable young men meeting a variety of terrible and highly spectacular ends. The 3D effects were faintly interesting I suppose, though to me they just made it look like the whole thing had been shot under heavily overcast skies. Good for a wet bank holiday.
THE ANIMAL KINGDOM (2010)D- David Michod. A family of low-lives in Melbourne have their own twisted moral code, and when one of their number is shot by the police they swear terrible revenge. Really rather intelligent piece of cinema from Australia, which in itself is quite unusual. Guy Pearce, as usual, is strong and believable.
SHREK FOREVER AFTER (2010) D- Mike Mitchell. Shrek meets Rumplestiltskin, who does a "Wonderful Life" thing on him and shows him how the world would be if he had never been born. It isn't a pretty sight... Is it me, or is the Shrek thing getting a bit tired?
THE TAKING OF PELHAM 123 (remake, 2009) D- Tony Scott. A New York subway train is highjacked, not by terrorists, but by criminals out for a few million fast bucks. I know it's money that drives remakes like this, though I wish they wouldn't mess with perfectly good originals, like the one here, when the 1973 version with a very scary Robert Shaw constituted an excellent thriller. Tony Scott at least doesn't descend to the disgraceful ploy of doing a shot-for-shot remake as is the current fashion, and produces a creditable, if unnecessary, result.
COSH BOY (1952)D- Lewis Gilbert. A delectable 17-year-old Joan Collins falls for a nasty piece of work (a bit like Pinkie in Brighton Rock?) who attacks old ladies for their purses. Notable for the closing scene where the police arrive to arrest the little shit but then leave to allow his step father to give him a well deserved thrashing wi' his belt. I imagine the Daily Mail readers must have been cheering in the aisles.
MIX ME A PERSON (1962) D- Leslie Norman. Adam Faith finds himself railroaded for a murder he didn't commit, but Ann Baxter is determined to get him off. These quasi-socially-aware movies were the vogue around this time in Britain, but like Cosh Boy, suffers from stilted acting and not very good writing.
FUUNY GAMES (1997) D- Michael Haneke. A middle class German family spend the weekend in their remote holiday home. A couple of nice young men in tennis whites knock on their door, take over the house and begin to torture them, one by one... Absolutely terrifying essay in "how to make a horror film" by one of Germany's most talented film makers. I'm usuallly pretty cool about horror movies, but such was its authenticity I tell you I've never been nearer to hiding behind the sofa. Terrific stuff.