BATTLE OF THE SEXES (2018) D- Jonathan Dayton
In 1973, having already thrashed women’s number one player Margaret Court, unabashed male chauvinist pig Bobby Riggs (Steve Carell), 30 years her senior but still very much a force to be reckoned with, takes on Billy-Jean King (Emma Stone). The smart money is on Riggs once again, after all, didn’t King lose to Court only a few months previously?
All this takes place against the backdrop of a world where females are awarded only a fraction of the prize-money offered to their male colleagues, and if there’s anything Billy-Jean cares more about than winning, it’s equality.
I enjoyed this film enormously. It’s directed skillfully, and the acting throughout, especially by an oily Bill Pullman who plays arch-chauvinist Jack Kramer, is exemplary. There isn’t quite enough tennis in it, or at least we have to wait a long time before it makes its appearance, but the end result is out of the top drawer.
BLACK PANTHER (2018) D- Ryan Coogler
In the heart of Africa there is an ideal society, hidden behind an invisible barrier. There its population lives in splendid isolation from the deeply racist world outside - a kind of Shangrila, if you will, until that is, the heir to the throne of ‘Wakanda’ has to deal with the threat from a young pretender, who would oust him and place himself on the throne.
Speaking of equality, this film is a wholly black effort, black stars, black production team, black everything. Yet surprisingly, you hardly even notice. What you see is a 21st century blockbuster with all the high-tec trimmings, woven into a gripping narrative. Based on an idea by superhero wizard Stan Lee, this film works on every level, from acting, directing, all the way to its on-screen look. Most importantly, it doesn’t suffer form the clunky, uncomfortable feel of other all-black efforts of the past, such as Carmen Jones or Porgy and Bess.
Highly recommended.
BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY (2018) D- Bryan Singer
Being the life and times of one Farouk Bolsara, aka Freddie Mercury, and the incredible rise and rise of a band called Queen. It is much more than the story of their remarkable single which gives the film its title; indeed, I would suggest a better title might be Don’t Stop Me Now, if only because that says more about Freddie’s non-stop lifestyle, which was eventually to be his downfall.
Rami Malek puts in a highly serviceable performance as Freddie, and even if the whole is slightly marred by wide-ranging digressions into Freddie’s private life, it remains an absorbing biopic of one of the most iconic groups of the 20th century. I even shed a couple of tears towards the end, and it takes a lot to draw the tears out of this grizzled, cynical old git...
PRIZZI’S HONOUR (1985) D- John Huston
Principal hitman to a New York Mafia family, Prizzi’s (Jack Nicholson) eye is caught by an attractive woman (Kathleen Turner), much to the ire of his ex - a splendid Angelica Huston, who still burns a candle for him even though they broke up years ago...
They marry, but his job interferes even on their honeymoon when he is asked to take out another victim - and guess who that is...
John Huston chose to give this film a sort of graphic-novel, mythical feel which is highly engaging. Nicholson is particularly strong as a kind of ingenue, despite the extremely grim nature of his day-job. I somehow managed to miss this movie when it came out in the mid 80s; I guess life intervened. But I can only say I am extremely gratified to have caught up with it at last. Some things are worth waiting for...
Tuesday, 30 October 2018
October 2018 book review
PALE FIRE, by Vladimir Nabokov
An American academic is working on a 1000 line epic poem on life, liberty and loss when he is tragically shot dead, with just one line to go. A colleague takes it upon himself to provide a detailed commentary on the poem by way of explication. But his interpretation differs widely from others, for Professor Kinbote is of the view that Dr Shade’s poem is in fact a coded life of Charles the Beloved, deposed king of “Zemlya”, a land to the “far north”. Who to believe? When one reads the poem, which is printed in its entirety at the beginning of the book, one finds no obvious relation between its substance and Kinbote’s explanation. Is Kinbote, then, that ‘unreliable narrator’, who should not be trusted, or are we simply not being subtle enough to see what he continually alludes to?
Pale Fire is a very strange, beautiful book. As we read Shade’s poem, we are entranced by its technical skill as well as its grand themes. Likewise, as we read ‘Kinbote’s meticulous ‘commentary’ we are transported into another world, namely the court intrigues of a small kingdom, which lead to the king escaping from captivity and making an heroic escape to America, pursued meanwhile by a relentless assassin. Without spelling it out, Kinbote is suggesting that in fact he is the deposed king - I think. I’m not sure, and I’m not sure Nabokov wants me to be sure - about anything in this unique novel, described by some as his greatest achievement.
CONFESSIONS OF FELIX KRULL, CONFIDENCE MAN, by Thomas Mann
In the Bavaria of late 19th century Germany, a young man of limited means convinces himself, not without reason, that he is a very special person. He realises is bound for greatness, but, how to achieve that? As so many before him, he realises his destiny lies in the big city, and his godfather is able to secure a lowly position for him in one of the leading hotels in Paris. There, his natural charm and charisma works its magic on all around him, the guests, the management, his colleagues and, especially, the ladies. But now he has entered the adult world, we discover that his supreme communication skills are balanced by a complete lack of moral sense. This boy will do anything to get ahead.
He is befriended by a German count, who notices a remarkable similarity in their physical appearances, and a plan is hatched which exploits this serendipitous coincidence. More about this, the meat of this marvelous novel would spoil the plot; indeed I may already have said too much. So let me leave it like this: Felix Krull is an absolute delight. Superbly written, funny, moving, if you look at Mann’s other books such as The Magic Mountain or Buddenbrooks, and think they look a bit long and complicated for you (which you shouldn’t; they’re both wonderful too) then try this eminently readable novel first. I guarantee it: you won’t regret it.
BERLIN ALEXANDERPLATZ, by Alfred Döblin
Franz Biberkopf, a pretty ordinary guy really, is released from jail and does his beast to survive on the outside. But as so often happens, he finds it hard to leave his criminal past behind him, and soon falls in with a number of more or less ne’er-do-wells. The authorities make little attempt to help him: early on he receives a letter from them indicating that he, as a convicted felon, is not allowed to live in Berlin, so simply by staying there he is breaking the law.
“There is a mower, death yclept.”
What is the meaning of this strange phrase, which recurs throughout the book? Turns out the word yclept is from Middle English, and may be understood as “goes by the name of”. Hence the phrase means: “There is a reaper, whose name is death.” I mention this to convey the strange atmosphere the book creates, and to illiustrate just how extraordinary this book is.
Described by some as an ‘expressionist novel’ it mixes stream-of-consciousness, documentary style and other quirky idioms to create a grim, claustrophobic atmosphere, enabling us to walk alongside our ‘hero’ as he trudges the mean streets of Berlin in his search for meaning, or at least earn his daily bread. Franz is not particularly loveable. He survives by pimping out women, hurting some of them badly in the process, but despite everything we still find ourselves identifying with our unfortunate protagonist. We want him to be OK in the end, even if that looks increasingly unlikely as the book proceeds.
A very special read...
An American academic is working on a 1000 line epic poem on life, liberty and loss when he is tragically shot dead, with just one line to go. A colleague takes it upon himself to provide a detailed commentary on the poem by way of explication. But his interpretation differs widely from others, for Professor Kinbote is of the view that Dr Shade’s poem is in fact a coded life of Charles the Beloved, deposed king of “Zemlya”, a land to the “far north”. Who to believe? When one reads the poem, which is printed in its entirety at the beginning of the book, one finds no obvious relation between its substance and Kinbote’s explanation. Is Kinbote, then, that ‘unreliable narrator’, who should not be trusted, or are we simply not being subtle enough to see what he continually alludes to?
Pale Fire is a very strange, beautiful book. As we read Shade’s poem, we are entranced by its technical skill as well as its grand themes. Likewise, as we read ‘Kinbote’s meticulous ‘commentary’ we are transported into another world, namely the court intrigues of a small kingdom, which lead to the king escaping from captivity and making an heroic escape to America, pursued meanwhile by a relentless assassin. Without spelling it out, Kinbote is suggesting that in fact he is the deposed king - I think. I’m not sure, and I’m not sure Nabokov wants me to be sure - about anything in this unique novel, described by some as his greatest achievement.
CONFESSIONS OF FELIX KRULL, CONFIDENCE MAN, by Thomas Mann
In the Bavaria of late 19th century Germany, a young man of limited means convinces himself, not without reason, that he is a very special person. He realises is bound for greatness, but, how to achieve that? As so many before him, he realises his destiny lies in the big city, and his godfather is able to secure a lowly position for him in one of the leading hotels in Paris. There, his natural charm and charisma works its magic on all around him, the guests, the management, his colleagues and, especially, the ladies. But now he has entered the adult world, we discover that his supreme communication skills are balanced by a complete lack of moral sense. This boy will do anything to get ahead.
He is befriended by a German count, who notices a remarkable similarity in their physical appearances, and a plan is hatched which exploits this serendipitous coincidence. More about this, the meat of this marvelous novel would spoil the plot; indeed I may already have said too much. So let me leave it like this: Felix Krull is an absolute delight. Superbly written, funny, moving, if you look at Mann’s other books such as The Magic Mountain or Buddenbrooks, and think they look a bit long and complicated for you (which you shouldn’t; they’re both wonderful too) then try this eminently readable novel first. I guarantee it: you won’t regret it.
BERLIN ALEXANDERPLATZ, by Alfred Döblin
Franz Biberkopf, a pretty ordinary guy really, is released from jail and does his beast to survive on the outside. But as so often happens, he finds it hard to leave his criminal past behind him, and soon falls in with a number of more or less ne’er-do-wells. The authorities make little attempt to help him: early on he receives a letter from them indicating that he, as a convicted felon, is not allowed to live in Berlin, so simply by staying there he is breaking the law.
“There is a mower, death yclept.”
What is the meaning of this strange phrase, which recurs throughout the book? Turns out the word yclept is from Middle English, and may be understood as “goes by the name of”. Hence the phrase means: “There is a reaper, whose name is death.” I mention this to convey the strange atmosphere the book creates, and to illiustrate just how extraordinary this book is.
Described by some as an ‘expressionist novel’ it mixes stream-of-consciousness, documentary style and other quirky idioms to create a grim, claustrophobic atmosphere, enabling us to walk alongside our ‘hero’ as he trudges the mean streets of Berlin in his search for meaning, or at least earn his daily bread. Franz is not particularly loveable. He survives by pimping out women, hurting some of them badly in the process, but despite everything we still find ourselves identifying with our unfortunate protagonist. We want him to be OK in the end, even if that looks increasingly unlikely as the book proceeds.
A very special read...
Monday, 22 October 2018
Sure we disapprove, just not that much...
Mr Trump has said he doesn’t approve of a nation who sends an 18 man hit squad to another country to murder one of its citizens in its own embassy. But, he points out, the US has just signed a $110 billion arms deal with the Saudis, and to turn his back on that could cost half a million American jobs. So... they’re not going to do jack. Likewise, we have extremely lucrative arms deals with the Saudis too, small beer compared with the US deal, granted, but the principle still applies. Then there’s the oil...
What would it take for Trump, or the British government for that matter, to stop doing business with any particular country? Not murdering a journalist, certainly. Deliberately bombing a bus load of children? Apparently not. The Saudis did that a couple of weeks ago. Carpet bombing an entire city? They haven’t done that yet, but seriously, I don’t think even that would be enough for us to turn our backs on them.
Way back in the 70s, a growing number of workers at Lucas Aerospace voiced their disquiet at what they were being asked to do, namely manufacture weapons of war. They started a “Socially Useful Work” initiative, and made many suggestions for how they could maintain Lucas’s profits without needing to make killing machines. The project died a death, as we might imagine, but the idea hasn’t gone away. Right now we could be going all-out with renewable energy schemes, rather than buying oil from whoever and fracking. There are 12,000 wind turbines in the UK, only a small fraction of what countries like Germany have. Building wind turbines is labour intensive; expanding our building programme could create thousands of jobs. Then there’s recycling. If we started doing that properly, instead of simply paying lip service to the idea, again, thousands of jobs would be created, and even better, as with renewable energy schemes, profits would soon be seen on the balance sheet.
The trouble is we continue to depend on fossil fuels to a terrifying extent, therefore we have to be nice to the producers, however horrible they are. If we could reduce our demand, we could tell the Saudis and other awful regimes where to go, without worrying about the consequences. Let’s go people!
What would it take for Trump, or the British government for that matter, to stop doing business with any particular country? Not murdering a journalist, certainly. Deliberately bombing a bus load of children? Apparently not. The Saudis did that a couple of weeks ago. Carpet bombing an entire city? They haven’t done that yet, but seriously, I don’t think even that would be enough for us to turn our backs on them.
Way back in the 70s, a growing number of workers at Lucas Aerospace voiced their disquiet at what they were being asked to do, namely manufacture weapons of war. They started a “Socially Useful Work” initiative, and made many suggestions for how they could maintain Lucas’s profits without needing to make killing machines. The project died a death, as we might imagine, but the idea hasn’t gone away. Right now we could be going all-out with renewable energy schemes, rather than buying oil from whoever and fracking. There are 12,000 wind turbines in the UK, only a small fraction of what countries like Germany have. Building wind turbines is labour intensive; expanding our building programme could create thousands of jobs. Then there’s recycling. If we started doing that properly, instead of simply paying lip service to the idea, again, thousands of jobs would be created, and even better, as with renewable energy schemes, profits would soon be seen on the balance sheet.
The trouble is we continue to depend on fossil fuels to a terrifying extent, therefore we have to be nice to the producers, however horrible they are. If we could reduce our demand, we could tell the Saudis and other awful regimes where to go, without worrying about the consequences. Let’s go people!
Monday, 15 October 2018
State sponsored murder- it goes on all the time
On the 1st October the eminent Saudi journalist Jamal Khashoggi entered the Saudi embassy in Istanbul to collect papers for his upcoming marriage. That much is sure, because by now the whole world has watched CCTV pictures of him entering the building. But there appears to be no footage of him ever coming out again. On the same day, 14 members of Saudi state security were seen entering Turkey, and leaving the following day. Why were they there? Were they there to kill Khashoggi, and then, if we are to believe stories swirling in Istanbul, using an angle grinder to cut his body into tiny, easily disposable bits?
Obviously the Saudis have been quick to deny any wrongdoing but I say, if so, why don’t they do the Habeus Corpus thing, and “produce the body”, as that ancient Latin phrase has it? If they’ve done nothing wrong, where is he?
As my headline suggests, there’s nothing new or uncommon about state sponsored murder. We’ve seen, for instance, the pathetically inept attempts of the Russians to kill one of their opponents in Salisbury only this year. But what of Palestine? A few months ago film emerged of a teenager in Gaza get within 100 metres of the fence that confines the population of the Gaza Strip, rendering it the largest concentration camp in history. He was shouting insults at the border guards, but he was unarmed, even with so much as a caterpault. The soldiers shot him dead. Certain bleeding-heart liberals such as myself registered protests, but at governmental level, from the ‘world leaders’ such as the EU states and the US, there was little if any response. In Israel itself the soldier himself was not even so much as reprimanded for his actions. If that isn’t state sponsored murder I don’t know what is.
Obviously the Saudis have been quick to deny any wrongdoing but I say, if so, why don’t they do the Habeus Corpus thing, and “produce the body”, as that ancient Latin phrase has it? If they’ve done nothing wrong, where is he?
As my headline suggests, there’s nothing new or uncommon about state sponsored murder. We’ve seen, for instance, the pathetically inept attempts of the Russians to kill one of their opponents in Salisbury only this year. But what of Palestine? A few months ago film emerged of a teenager in Gaza get within 100 metres of the fence that confines the population of the Gaza Strip, rendering it the largest concentration camp in history. He was shouting insults at the border guards, but he was unarmed, even with so much as a caterpault. The soldiers shot him dead. Certain bleeding-heart liberals such as myself registered protests, but at governmental level, from the ‘world leaders’ such as the EU states and the US, there was little if any response. In Israel itself the soldier himself was not even so much as reprimanded for his actions. If that isn’t state sponsored murder I don’t know what is.
Tuesday, 9 October 2018
Placebos: more than fake drugs
I’ve been watching the BBC2 programme Horizon for over 50 years; it’s now in its 57th season and I have to say it continues to fascinate me in the same way as it did when a far-sighted David Attenborough introduced it all those years ago.
Recently, redoubtable medical journalist Dr Michael Mosley ran a trial on 100 people with chronic back pain. He pretended that half the group would get an active drug, the other half an inactive placebo. In fact everyone received the placebo, yet after 3 weeks, 45% of the group reported a significant improvement in their symptoms.
As a doctor I have seen the placebo response work on countless occasions. Obviously doctors cannot hoodwink their patients by giving them one while pretending it is active, though, amazingly, a number of patients improve even when they know they are getting the placebo. In fact some would argue that drugs which the doctors believe are active, such as Prozac, or old-school antibiotics, are actually working via this effect. And remembering that those drugs often have unpleasant side effects, it makes one wonder whether it might not be a better idea to give them a placebo to start with.
The most dramatic example of a placebo in action I have ever seen was at medical school, when a patient was injected with a dilute dextrose solution. Or that’s what she thought. In fact she was given plain, distilled water. But the reaction was astounding. Within a minute of the injection, the patient’s face became swollen and purple, she began to shake uncontrollably and within two minutes had collapsed unconscious. She experienced a phenomenon called “angio-oedema” a catastrophic reaction sometimes associated with severe allergy. But you can’t be allergic to water: our bodies are 90% water after all. So what happened? To be honest, nobody knew then and nobody knows now.
The placebo response is still poorly understood. In the test group above, why did 45% of the group experience an improvement, while 55% did not? The response is independent of age, IQ or social
background. As a doctor I’ve long recognised that if you give a patient something along with a forceful promise that it’s going to do the trick, it is far more likely to work than otherwise. If I was still working now, would I offer people placebos with the words: “Look, I know there’s nothing in this pill, but research has shown that even so, it often works”? You know, I think I might. And let’s face it, it’s no more or less than homoeopathists do every day of the week...
Recently, redoubtable medical journalist Dr Michael Mosley ran a trial on 100 people with chronic back pain. He pretended that half the group would get an active drug, the other half an inactive placebo. In fact everyone received the placebo, yet after 3 weeks, 45% of the group reported a significant improvement in their symptoms.
As a doctor I have seen the placebo response work on countless occasions. Obviously doctors cannot hoodwink their patients by giving them one while pretending it is active, though, amazingly, a number of patients improve even when they know they are getting the placebo. In fact some would argue that drugs which the doctors believe are active, such as Prozac, or old-school antibiotics, are actually working via this effect. And remembering that those drugs often have unpleasant side effects, it makes one wonder whether it might not be a better idea to give them a placebo to start with.
The most dramatic example of a placebo in action I have ever seen was at medical school, when a patient was injected with a dilute dextrose solution. Or that’s what she thought. In fact she was given plain, distilled water. But the reaction was astounding. Within a minute of the injection, the patient’s face became swollen and purple, she began to shake uncontrollably and within two minutes had collapsed unconscious. She experienced a phenomenon called “angio-oedema” a catastrophic reaction sometimes associated with severe allergy. But you can’t be allergic to water: our bodies are 90% water after all. So what happened? To be honest, nobody knew then and nobody knows now.
The placebo response is still poorly understood. In the test group above, why did 45% of the group experience an improvement, while 55% did not? The response is independent of age, IQ or social
background. As a doctor I’ve long recognised that if you give a patient something along with a forceful promise that it’s going to do the trick, it is far more likely to work than otherwise. If I was still working now, would I offer people placebos with the words: “Look, I know there’s nothing in this pill, but research has shown that even so, it often works”? You know, I think I might. And let’s face it, it’s no more or less than homoeopathists do every day of the week...
Saturday, 6 October 2018
Green Light for Brett
It now seems certain Brett Kavanaugh will win his nomination to the Supreme Court despite the allegations of sexual assault levelled against him by several women. At one level this is no bad thing. It would be a shame if a moment of alcohol fulled bad behaviour 36 years ago destroyed a man’s chances of reaching the highest office. But, rather than adopting a hectoring, defensive posture, it would have been nice if he’d said: “I do not remember the incident described by Dr Ford, but if on the night in question I behaved in a less than appropriate manner I apologise unreservedly.” Then he might have won more approval from the women currently most strident in condemning him.
In 1977 I was a young psychiatrist when I was asked to see a medical student who, during someone’s 21st biurthday celebrations took it upon himself to drink an entire bottle of vodka in one go. Hardly surprisingly he suffered a cardiac arrest and very nearly died. Even more surprisingly, he was remarkably unrepentant when I challenged him over his arrant stupidity. Amazingly, he persisted in thinking it was “a bit of a lark’ that had perhaps been taken a bit too far. As you can imagine, I tore him to shreds over the incident, not least over the amount of NHS resources that had been devoted to keeping such an idiotic person alive. That man is now in his 50s, if he is still alive, having modified his behaviour since those crazy days, and may have carved out a distinguished career in medicine. I don’t know. But I don’t think that moment of extreme recklessness should have destroyed his career.
There are 2 problems in the ‘Kavanaugh epsisode’ which trouble me, as an observer far from the land of the ‘Free’. The first is that Mr Kavanaugh, and his sponsor Donald Trump, have made no secret of their partisan, ultra-right wing agenda, and that the former will put these views into action once he becomes a member of the Supreme Court. I know this has happened before, and probably many times, but you would have thought that a neutral, impartial position would be what was required from any judge, never mind one in the highest court in the land. Now the decisions from that court will be coloured with a far-right hue for many years to come, and heaven help those people trying to pursue any kind of liberal agenda.
The second is about a huge banner unfurled by demonstrators in the Capitol building yesterday.
“BELIEVE ALL SURVIVORS!” It proclaimed, suggesting that professor Blasey-Ford, and, presumably, all other complainants of sexual abuse, should be believed, and unquestioningly. The only problem with that is, if my accuser had been believed unquestioningly, not just by the police and the CPS, which she was, but also by the jury, then I’d be in prison right now, 9 months into a life sentence for a series of terrible sex crimes - crimes that in truth did not take place. Unfortunately, we cannot, in the interest of justice, afford to believe all “survivors”. If we did, hundreds of innocent people, like myself, would be in prison. Rather we have to take all complainants seriously; I have no problem with that, but then investigate their claims impartially and objectively. I’m sorry, Me Too movement, but that’s the only way.
In 1977 I was a young psychiatrist when I was asked to see a medical student who, during someone’s 21st biurthday celebrations took it upon himself to drink an entire bottle of vodka in one go. Hardly surprisingly he suffered a cardiac arrest and very nearly died. Even more surprisingly, he was remarkably unrepentant when I challenged him over his arrant stupidity. Amazingly, he persisted in thinking it was “a bit of a lark’ that had perhaps been taken a bit too far. As you can imagine, I tore him to shreds over the incident, not least over the amount of NHS resources that had been devoted to keeping such an idiotic person alive. That man is now in his 50s, if he is still alive, having modified his behaviour since those crazy days, and may have carved out a distinguished career in medicine. I don’t know. But I don’t think that moment of extreme recklessness should have destroyed his career.
There are 2 problems in the ‘Kavanaugh epsisode’ which trouble me, as an observer far from the land of the ‘Free’. The first is that Mr Kavanaugh, and his sponsor Donald Trump, have made no secret of their partisan, ultra-right wing agenda, and that the former will put these views into action once he becomes a member of the Supreme Court. I know this has happened before, and probably many times, but you would have thought that a neutral, impartial position would be what was required from any judge, never mind one in the highest court in the land. Now the decisions from that court will be coloured with a far-right hue for many years to come, and heaven help those people trying to pursue any kind of liberal agenda.
The second is about a huge banner unfurled by demonstrators in the Capitol building yesterday.
“BELIEVE ALL SURVIVORS!” It proclaimed, suggesting that professor Blasey-Ford, and, presumably, all other complainants of sexual abuse, should be believed, and unquestioningly. The only problem with that is, if my accuser had been believed unquestioningly, not just by the police and the CPS, which she was, but also by the jury, then I’d be in prison right now, 9 months into a life sentence for a series of terrible sex crimes - crimes that in truth did not take place. Unfortunately, we cannot, in the interest of justice, afford to believe all “survivors”. If we did, hundreds of innocent people, like myself, would be in prison. Rather we have to take all complainants seriously; I have no problem with that, but then investigate their claims impartially and objectively. I’m sorry, Me Too movement, but that’s the only way.
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