Just after my son died in 2006 I devised several little projects designed to distract me from the pain of grief, but also as bargaining counters. My thought was "By the time I've completed that (whatever that was), I'll be all right."
One project I undertook was to see every one of the "Four star", or highest rated films in Halliwell's Film Guide. Do you know it? It's been my bible for nearly 40 years, and goes back over half a dozen editions. Don't get me wrong. It's not that I necessary agree with every review he gives; indeed I sometimes disagree violently. And it would certainly be fair to say, as a friend once pointed out cogently,
"Halliwell likes a film with a beginning, a middle and an end, and in that order"
Nonetheless, on the whole I have great respect generally for his analysis and insight. For my money at least, his film guide is the best one out there.
Halliwell uses a rating system ranging from "No Stars at all", which as he explains in his introduction:
indicates a totally routine production or worse, such films may be watchable but at least are equally missable.
Next, 1 star,
films of minor merit or failed giants,
2 stars, more competent productions and generally entertaining.
3 stars is awarded to films of a very high standard of professional excellence or great historical interest,
and finally on to 4 stars", an accolade he reserves only for films that are:
"Outstanding in many ways, a milestone in cinema history, remarkable in acting, directing, writing, photography or some other aspect of technique."
He awards this Victoria Cross of movie accolades sparingly, as we might expect.. Of the 23,000 plus movies reviewed, just 256 receive this exalted award. That means only 1% of the films listed achieve this highest rating, unlike the American Leonard Maltin, in whose guide nearly 5% of the movies achieve his highest rating. So Halliwell is certainly discerning, if nothing else.
In bestowing his highest honour, Halliwell chooses with infinite care, sampling classics from across the history of cinema; from silent shorts made in 1916, such as Chaplin's immortal Easy Street, as well as a few great features from that era, such as Intolerance, moving through each cinema epoch, picking priceless gems from each era of the movies out of the 25,000-odd that are listed in the guide. If we scrutinise the list, we find to our delight we have already seen many of them and loved them as unconditionally as he has: You know, ones like Laurence of Arabia or Fargo, movies everyone has seen. Some, however, were a little more obscure; certainly I had never heard of most of them. I went through the list one by one, identifying films I hadn't yet seen. Of the 256 listed movies, I had already seen 198. There were 58 left to see.
Shortly after we discovered LoveFilm and began whittling away at the list. It was immensely satisfying at first, and I knocked off a few glorious oversights in my cinematic education during the first few months. But it soon became apparent that many of the films on the list were hard to find: They were often unobtainable through Lovefilm, for reasons I have never fully understood. So I resorted to buying some of them through Amazon, in turn having to buy a DVD player that could adapt to both regions because some of the movies I was after were only available in the American format. This widened my range still further, but even then some titles remained elusive. Then my brother, bless him, a fellow film buff and as it happens a big collector of DVDs, filled in several of the gaps and the list dwindled once again/
As the years advanced, I steadily made inroads into the all-important list. By 2010, from which point I began keeping this blog, there were only 20 films outstanding. I started publishing a monthly film review in which I reviewed the remaining movies on the list as I tracked them down, one by glorious one.
And by the time this year dawned, only a handful eluded me. And now, now I can sense the event horizon is at hand. With mounting excitement I have just this week realised that I am just two films away from achieving my great goal- and both are within my grasp as we speak!
The films in question are: Aladdin, Disney's 1992 animation, and The Chant of Jimmy Blacksmith, Fred Schepisi's 1978 film. The first of these is sitting on our priority list on LoveFilm, whilst the second I have finally been able to buy, albeit at the exorbitant price of £25.
And now a strange calm seems to have come over me. For some reason I have not raced to see them both and thereby complete my project.. I know they are there, I say to myself, no hurry. What am I waiting for? you may ask. What's going on? And then I realise what is happening. I'll be all right then. Those dread, stupid words coming back to mock me after six long years. Because the answer is, of course, I will not be all right then, nor will I ever be be. True, I have become a little more accepting of my predicament in the interim. Through daily practise, I have become more skilled at dealing with my loss But I will never be truly whole again, and it would be better to accept that quietly, and perhaps not make any more silly bargains in the future.
Despite this, I am still able to say my film-finding exercise has been rather marvellous: 58 films, some of which have almost literally assumed the status of life-changers: from silent classics such as Birth of a Nation and Sunrise, to outrageous pre-code musical masterpieces like Love Me Tonight, or supremely elegant masterpieces from the 40s like Trouble in Paradise and To Be or Not to Be; classics from the French cinema like Boudo Saved From Drowning and Les Enfants Terrible and on to post-war miracles like The Red Balloon and The Discreet Charm of the Bourgoisie.
In the last analysis I can pronounce the whole thing a brilliant success: I have enriched my life immeasurably in the process. But have I entirely dispensed with bargaining? Alas, I fear not. You see, I write down all the books I have read and all the new films I have seen in a special notebook which, by my estimation, has enough pages left to last another twenty years. Surely, by the time I finally fill all that I'll be all right. Won't I?
Tuesday, 21 May 2013
Wednesday, 15 May 2013
It's all our fault, apparently
All day long I've been listening to pundit after pundit wheeling out the received wisdom that the crisis in Accident and Emergency is down, in large part, to the GP's contract of 2004, which allowed GPs to hand over responsibility for out-of-hours work to the (mainly private) OOH companies. It is said that the ending of evening and weekend surgeries has placed intolerable demands on A and E departments. Well here's the news: it's crap.
Sure, GPs said goodbye to Saturday morning "emergency" surgeries in 2004, and I can't say I grieve their parting. But evening surgeries? I've been a GP since 1979, and neither I, not any other GP I know has ever conducted an evening surgery (though my afternoon surgeries often extended in to the evening as far as 8 pm.) I've also done quite a bit of work for the OOH services, and they are in general hard working and efficient concerns who do what it says on the label: supplying GP-type services in the evenings and weekends.
So what's really going on? The fact is, demand is increasing in all areas of the NHS, as great wells of unmet need gradually begin to be addressed. Then there's the burgeoning immigrant population, many of whom generate enormous demand on our services because they often have poor health when they arrive; plus the fact that some cultures demand to see a doctor straight away for whatever ailment they happen to be labouring with at the time (I'm thinking here particularly of immigrants from central Asia, though I would be lying if I said they had a monopoly on excessively high demand). Then there's the persistent view of a huge number of patients, whatever their ethnic background, that if the GPs are closed, well, you go to A and E, right? Wrong. A number of studies have confirmed that many of the people sitting in A and E departments, whingeing on about how long they are having to wait shouldn't be there in the first place. Accident and Emergency. Think what those words mean. Yet any day of the week you'll find people waiting to be seen for their sore throat or bad back which they've had for days. These people need educating, pronto, by doing a quick screening and simply turning away those who are using the service inappropriately. Before they slope off you could tell them:
"This unit is called 'Accident and Emergency'. Your problem is neither an accident nor an emergency. The right place for you is just over there, marked 'Out of Hours GP Clinic.'"
In my local hospital the OOH centre lies directly adjacent to A and E, so it's hardly a great stretch for them to wander next door where they can be seen in a more appropriate setting. That alone would ease the pressure enormously. Not that GPs are completely without blame. A lot of them restrict their surgeries artificially to no more than 15 patients in a session, regardless of how many people have asked to be seen, and some even have the highly aggressive warning pinned to their notice boards saying
"ONE PROBLEM PER CONSULTATION ONLY"
which is ridiculous and unfair, especially to the elderly and disabled, who often suffer from multiple health problems and may find it extremely difficult to get to the surgery at all.
The changes brought about in 2004 were meant to bring doctors in Britain into line with custom and practice in the rest of Europe, and is no bad thing. As long as they do their work properly during the day, that is.
Sure, GPs said goodbye to Saturday morning "emergency" surgeries in 2004, and I can't say I grieve their parting. But evening surgeries? I've been a GP since 1979, and neither I, not any other GP I know has ever conducted an evening surgery (though my afternoon surgeries often extended in to the evening as far as 8 pm.) I've also done quite a bit of work for the OOH services, and they are in general hard working and efficient concerns who do what it says on the label: supplying GP-type services in the evenings and weekends.
So what's really going on? The fact is, demand is increasing in all areas of the NHS, as great wells of unmet need gradually begin to be addressed. Then there's the burgeoning immigrant population, many of whom generate enormous demand on our services because they often have poor health when they arrive; plus the fact that some cultures demand to see a doctor straight away for whatever ailment they happen to be labouring with at the time (I'm thinking here particularly of immigrants from central Asia, though I would be lying if I said they had a monopoly on excessively high demand). Then there's the persistent view of a huge number of patients, whatever their ethnic background, that if the GPs are closed, well, you go to A and E, right? Wrong. A number of studies have confirmed that many of the people sitting in A and E departments, whingeing on about how long they are having to wait shouldn't be there in the first place. Accident and Emergency. Think what those words mean. Yet any day of the week you'll find people waiting to be seen for their sore throat or bad back which they've had for days. These people need educating, pronto, by doing a quick screening and simply turning away those who are using the service inappropriately. Before they slope off you could tell them:
"This unit is called 'Accident and Emergency'. Your problem is neither an accident nor an emergency. The right place for you is just over there, marked 'Out of Hours GP Clinic.'"
In my local hospital the OOH centre lies directly adjacent to A and E, so it's hardly a great stretch for them to wander next door where they can be seen in a more appropriate setting. That alone would ease the pressure enormously. Not that GPs are completely without blame. A lot of them restrict their surgeries artificially to no more than 15 patients in a session, regardless of how many people have asked to be seen, and some even have the highly aggressive warning pinned to their notice boards saying
"ONE PROBLEM PER CONSULTATION ONLY"
which is ridiculous and unfair, especially to the elderly and disabled, who often suffer from multiple health problems and may find it extremely difficult to get to the surgery at all.
The changes brought about in 2004 were meant to bring doctors in Britain into line with custom and practice in the rest of Europe, and is no bad thing. As long as they do their work properly during the day, that is.
Sunday, 12 May 2013
Dying Declaration
Under English law, great importance is attached to the dying declaration. It is assumed no one will, in the final moments of their lives, have any agenda other than the simple truth to be on their minds- therefore any statements are usually taken as fact. I accept that a suicide note is not quite the exact equivalent of a dying declaration, but to mind it is awfully close.
Hence we must take very careful note of the note left by a woman who committed suicide last week, which indicated one of the reasons for her decision to end her life: the pressure brought about by the government's benefit changes.
This is the price we pay for Tory philosophy in practice: the weak go under, and perhaps as they say to each other in private, so be it. This country can't afford to give the poor the luxury of spare rooms in their homes, though it can afford to have laws giving huge tax breaks to some of the largest companies in the world. And you thought the coalition was a nightmare? Imagine if the Tories had got in with a thumping majority- perish the thought...
Hence we must take very careful note of the note left by a woman who committed suicide last week, which indicated one of the reasons for her decision to end her life: the pressure brought about by the government's benefit changes.
This is the price we pay for Tory philosophy in practice: the weak go under, and perhaps as they say to each other in private, so be it. This country can't afford to give the poor the luxury of spare rooms in their homes, though it can afford to have laws giving huge tax breaks to some of the largest companies in the world. And you thought the coalition was a nightmare? Imagine if the Tories had got in with a thumping majority- perish the thought...
Thursday, 9 May 2013
Nice one Steven
Steven Hawing has just revealed he will not be attending a science conference in Israel, in keeping with the academic boycott which was launched recently to attract the World's attention to the appalling treatment of Palestinian academics at the hands of a brutal Israeli state. Naturally the authorities have reacted with horror, and this morning on The Today Programme a spokesman for the Israelis bemoaned the fact of his "political act" and claiming that what is needed is a dialogue between the two sides. He even had the gall to say the Israelis have no power inside Gaza and the West Bank, completely ignoring the fact that those lands are under military occupation and that therefore they hold all the power. He spoke about reaching a "compromise", yet all the evidence in the past has shown that this is what the Israelis have consistently refused to do. At all. About anything.
As the world's most famous scientist, Hawking's decision not to attend has had precisely the effect intended: to bring the plight of the Palestinian people to as wide an audience as possible. No wonder the Israelis are annoyed. They want to sell the lie that Israel is a fair, democratic state doing the best it can while living in the midst of a group of terrorists determined to push them into the sea.
The other day I was watching a re-run of that great ITV documentary series The World at War. This episode was showing how the Germans constructed the ghetto in Warsaw to house the Jewish population. Their last task was to build a high concrete wall around the ghetto so that movement in and out of that hideously overcrowded hell-hole could be carefully controlled. Strange thing: it looked remarkably similar to the wall the Israelis have built around the West Bank. The Germans viewed the Jews as Untermenschen, beneath contempt, sub-human, to be controlled and manipulated at their will. Just like the Israelis are doing right now. Steven Hawking has reminded the world of this injustice, and I say, Good on ya mate!
As the world's most famous scientist, Hawking's decision not to attend has had precisely the effect intended: to bring the plight of the Palestinian people to as wide an audience as possible. No wonder the Israelis are annoyed. They want to sell the lie that Israel is a fair, democratic state doing the best it can while living in the midst of a group of terrorists determined to push them into the sea.
The other day I was watching a re-run of that great ITV documentary series The World at War. This episode was showing how the Germans constructed the ghetto in Warsaw to house the Jewish population. Their last task was to build a high concrete wall around the ghetto so that movement in and out of that hideously overcrowded hell-hole could be carefully controlled. Strange thing: it looked remarkably similar to the wall the Israelis have built around the West Bank. The Germans viewed the Jews as Untermenschen, beneath contempt, sub-human, to be controlled and manipulated at their will. Just like the Israelis are doing right now. Steven Hawking has reminded the world of this injustice, and I say, Good on ya mate!
Sunday, 5 May 2013
We're all making plans for Nigel
Burn him at the stake? Make him Prime Minister? The former definitely the opinion of the other political parties; the latter the gut feeling of many of their electorate. By tapping into the zeitgeist of uninformed prejudice which lurks just below the surface of a large body of the British people, he has, seemingly even to his own astonishment, sent profound shock waves through the establishment.
Looking exactly like his own Spitting Image model, Nigel has exposed a rich and powerful vein in "public opinion". It's not the anti-European sentiments; most people don't give a toss about that. No, I'm afraid it's the racism, despite the fact that Nigel and his cronies preface every remark they utter with the phrase "I'm not a racist". They protest too much, I fancy. The fact is, all over the country people have noticed they come across more and more people of exotic origin sharing the streets with them: jabbering into their phones in some impenetrable language, women with nothing but their eyes showing, shopping in new ethnic stores which are springing up all over our high streets. And they don't like it. They reckon our "way of life" is being destroyed, missing the point that foreign immigration adds more to our society than it takes away. But you won't win many votes saying that right now.
As a dispassionate observer of the political scene, the local election results on Friday were absolutely fascinating, not least for the squirming seen from all the other parties as they backtracked furiously from their "bunch of clowns" outbursts, now looking seriously insulting since 26% of the voters didn't agree with that assessment.
Nigel is right to say what happened on Thursday marked a sea change in British politics. The trouble is, it's an extremely worrying one. If we give these boys their head in a General Election and they make significant inroads by, say, winning more seats than the Lib Dems, which seems highly likely, our country will be much worse off as a result. And whose fault will that be? Yours, if you're dumb enough to give them your vote.
Looking exactly like his own Spitting Image model, Nigel has exposed a rich and powerful vein in "public opinion". It's not the anti-European sentiments; most people don't give a toss about that. No, I'm afraid it's the racism, despite the fact that Nigel and his cronies preface every remark they utter with the phrase "I'm not a racist". They protest too much, I fancy. The fact is, all over the country people have noticed they come across more and more people of exotic origin sharing the streets with them: jabbering into their phones in some impenetrable language, women with nothing but their eyes showing, shopping in new ethnic stores which are springing up all over our high streets. And they don't like it. They reckon our "way of life" is being destroyed, missing the point that foreign immigration adds more to our society than it takes away. But you won't win many votes saying that right now.
As a dispassionate observer of the political scene, the local election results on Friday were absolutely fascinating, not least for the squirming seen from all the other parties as they backtracked furiously from their "bunch of clowns" outbursts, now looking seriously insulting since 26% of the voters didn't agree with that assessment.
Nigel is right to say what happened on Thursday marked a sea change in British politics. The trouble is, it's an extremely worrying one. If we give these boys their head in a General Election and they make significant inroads by, say, winning more seats than the Lib Dems, which seems highly likely, our country will be much worse off as a result. And whose fault will that be? Yours, if you're dumb enough to give them your vote.
Wednesday, 1 May 2013
Beelieve it
I was up early a few days ago and listened to the Morning Chorus- such as it was. A bird here, a bird there; a pathetic echo of the tremendous sound I recall from my childhood. Similarly, the sound of bees harvesting their nectar is not what it was. The bee population has fallen by 30% in the last few years, and it's hard to avoid the conclusion that human activity, as with the reduction of the urban bird population, is responsible. The reasons for these declines are complex and diverse: we know, for instance, that bee numbers were falling even before the age of neo-nicotinoidss, though it now becoming clear that that agent is speeding it up alarmingly.
The introduction of neo-nicotinoid pesticides have been a boon to farmers. It has reduced spoiling of oilseed rape plants almost to zero; hence farmers who have converted their land almost to a monoculture of the yellow cash-crop have seen their profit margins increase substantially. So it is scarcely surprising that it is they and the manufacturers who have been most opposed to any moratorium on its use. It's money, man.
Fortunately the EU heard wiser council when they put in place a temporary ban on its use until more research has been carried out. But we've seen all this before. When DDT was invented towards the end of World War II it was hailed as a miracle. It killed the lice that carried typhus so well we thought the problem had been solved. Meanwhile it was leeching into the environment, where it continued to reek havoc on all kinds of life forms decades after its use was finally ended, most notably when it was absorbed by birds of prey, especially peregrine falcons, whose eggshells became more fragile, causing their chicks to hatch prematurely and die.
I'm sure there was a body of opinion out there at the time saying "So what if falcons become extinct? We have our profits to think of." Just like today, when farmers and the pesticide companies will say "What's the problem with wiping out a few insects?" despite the fact that bees are actually vital to the rural economy. I've heard of cutting off your nose to spite your face, but baby, this is crazy.
The introduction of neo-nicotinoid pesticides have been a boon to farmers. It has reduced spoiling of oilseed rape plants almost to zero; hence farmers who have converted their land almost to a monoculture of the yellow cash-crop have seen their profit margins increase substantially. So it is scarcely surprising that it is they and the manufacturers who have been most opposed to any moratorium on its use. It's money, man.
Fortunately the EU heard wiser council when they put in place a temporary ban on its use until more research has been carried out. But we've seen all this before. When DDT was invented towards the end of World War II it was hailed as a miracle. It killed the lice that carried typhus so well we thought the problem had been solved. Meanwhile it was leeching into the environment, where it continued to reek havoc on all kinds of life forms decades after its use was finally ended, most notably when it was absorbed by birds of prey, especially peregrine falcons, whose eggshells became more fragile, causing their chicks to hatch prematurely and die.
I'm sure there was a body of opinion out there at the time saying "So what if falcons become extinct? We have our profits to think of." Just like today, when farmers and the pesticide companies will say "What's the problem with wiping out a few insects?" despite the fact that bees are actually vital to the rural economy. I've heard of cutting off your nose to spite your face, but baby, this is crazy.
Tuesday, 30 April 2013
April book and film review
BOOKS
A DANCE TO THE MUSIC OF TIME, by Anthony Powell
Vol V- Casanova's Chinese Restaurant
Vol VI- The Kindly Ones
Vol VII- The Valley of Bones
The Dance goes on. In volume five, our hero, Nick Jenkins, continues to hobnob with the great and good of London society; indeed he has managed to snag Isobel, daughter of an Earl. His long time acquaintance, Kenneth Widmerpool, on the other hand, bit off more than he could chew with his Earl's daughter, whose engagement has collapsed. Volume six, "The Kindly Ones" which, I am informed, was a placatory term used to describe the Furies, is seen by some to be the best of the twelve, and also perhaps the only one that can be read in isolation. And it is true there are some unforgettable scenes, especially when the bright young things gather at a country mansion and the owner (heir to an Earldom of his own), who has developed an interest in photography, is persuaded to photograph a series of human tableaux to illustrate the Seven Deadly Sins.
"The Valley of Bones" brings us finally to the outbreak of the Second World War, when Nick volunteers for a Welsh regiment, and whose first posting is to the less than glamorous, rain-sodden fields of Northern Ireland. Will he ever see action? We'll have to wait and see.
Will I hang in to the conclusion of this classic book of 20th century English literature? Damn right.
FILMS
CHIMES AT MIDNIGHT (1964) D- Orson Welles. A corpulent knight is befriended by the Prince of Wales, and they carouse together uproariously. But when the prince ascends the throne as Henry V, he distances himself from his potentially embarrassing drinking pal. Welles drew from Shakespeare's histories to paint a vivid portrait of Sir John Falstaff, and acts him to a T. But the production is often clumsy, with inexplicable editing and poor sound synchronisation, which is an unforgiveable error. Even so, you can't seem to take your eyes off it, despite the many little annoyances.
JACK AND JILL (2012) D- Dave Dugan. Adam Sandler invites his twin sister (also played by him) for Christmas, but is mortified by her gauche behaviour. But everything changes when, of all people, Al Pacino falls for her. Now Sandler wants Pacino to be in a commercial he's planning, and as his sister cannot appreciate the Great One's charms, he goes into drag to ensnare him himself. A really rather good little offering, with Pacino wickedly funny in his self-portraying cameo role.
CARS (2006) D- John Lasseter, A race-car gets pulled over for speeding, and has to help out fixing the road in a hick town until he has redeemed himself. I tend to have problems with heavily anthropomorphised films, but if you just give that away for 90 minutes you will discover a real gem of 21st century animated features. The graphics are stunning, and the voice characterisations (including Paul Newman in his last film) are spot on. Top marks.
A FANTASTIC FEAR OF EVERYTHING (2012) D- Crispian Mills and Chris Hopewell. Simon Pegg is researching 19th century serial killers, but becomes so consumed by his project he becomes afraid of every shadow. As it turns out, with good reason... Pegg (this time sans Frost) gives good VFM as the paranoid journo, but really there isn't enough substance to sustain a thin script. Pity. I like him.
ROXIE HART (1942) D- William Wellmann. A pretty young thing (Ginger Rogers, and they don't come a lot prettier) is prosecuted for a murder she didn't commit, and a shyster lawyer realises he can make his name by defending her. Sounds familiar? Should be. It's an early version of Chicago, heavy on the irony, and beautifully drawn together by Wellmann, who for my money was one of Hollywood's greatest directors.
SNOW WHITE AND THE HUNTSMAN (2012) D- Rupert Sanders. Evil queen Charlize Theron hears there's a threat to her "most beautiful woman in the kingdom" status in the shape of Kristen Stewart (that guy in the magic mirror has no taste) and determines to do her in. Unfortunately Snow White turns out to be a superior urban guerrilla, so this project is harder to carry out than she thought... A new take on the old story, competently made, but to this observer lacking in real bite (except out of the apple, of course).
ALONG CAME POLLY (2004) D- John Hamburg. Newlywed Ben Stiller takes his bride to St Barts for their honeymoon, but they've scarcely hit the beach before she falls for a French SCUBA instructor. Mortified, he comes home alone and hits waitress Jennifer Anniston on the rebound. But is he really over his wife? And do we give a shit? The prospect of an uptight, risk-assessing man maybe/maybe not finding happiness with an anarchic free spirit is the tension around which this film revolves, and all we see on the screen is highly professional. Just not funny enough.
WAR HORSE (2012) D- Steven Spielberg. A thoroughbred horse is requisitioned by the army and sent to the trenches in the Great War. Will Joey survive the most hellish conflict in human history?
Alfred Hitchcock once said that the aim of a movie is to make the audience experience emotion, and though Spielberg is no Hitchcock, his greatest talent is to enable the audience to do just that. From films like Jaws, through ET: the Extraterrestrial (remember how nearly all the shots in that were from the POV of a ten-year-old?) to this offering, Spielberg has cast his spell over the movie-going public to the point where, like his illustrious predecessor, moviegoers, most of whom have little interest in the director of a film, will be attracted to a product made by the bearded one. War Horse is perhaps a typical example of his best work: improbable, fabulous even, but still capable of arousing powerful emotions in those who experience it. It may not be a great film, but its impact is undeniable.
A DANCE TO THE MUSIC OF TIME, by Anthony Powell
Vol V- Casanova's Chinese Restaurant
Vol VI- The Kindly Ones
Vol VII- The Valley of Bones
The Dance goes on. In volume five, our hero, Nick Jenkins, continues to hobnob with the great and good of London society; indeed he has managed to snag Isobel, daughter of an Earl. His long time acquaintance, Kenneth Widmerpool, on the other hand, bit off more than he could chew with his Earl's daughter, whose engagement has collapsed. Volume six, "The Kindly Ones" which, I am informed, was a placatory term used to describe the Furies, is seen by some to be the best of the twelve, and also perhaps the only one that can be read in isolation. And it is true there are some unforgettable scenes, especially when the bright young things gather at a country mansion and the owner (heir to an Earldom of his own), who has developed an interest in photography, is persuaded to photograph a series of human tableaux to illustrate the Seven Deadly Sins.
"The Valley of Bones" brings us finally to the outbreak of the Second World War, when Nick volunteers for a Welsh regiment, and whose first posting is to the less than glamorous, rain-sodden fields of Northern Ireland. Will he ever see action? We'll have to wait and see.
Will I hang in to the conclusion of this classic book of 20th century English literature? Damn right.
FILMS
CHIMES AT MIDNIGHT (1964) D- Orson Welles. A corpulent knight is befriended by the Prince of Wales, and they carouse together uproariously. But when the prince ascends the throne as Henry V, he distances himself from his potentially embarrassing drinking pal. Welles drew from Shakespeare's histories to paint a vivid portrait of Sir John Falstaff, and acts him to a T. But the production is often clumsy, with inexplicable editing and poor sound synchronisation, which is an unforgiveable error. Even so, you can't seem to take your eyes off it, despite the many little annoyances.
JACK AND JILL (2012) D- Dave Dugan. Adam Sandler invites his twin sister (also played by him) for Christmas, but is mortified by her gauche behaviour. But everything changes when, of all people, Al Pacino falls for her. Now Sandler wants Pacino to be in a commercial he's planning, and as his sister cannot appreciate the Great One's charms, he goes into drag to ensnare him himself. A really rather good little offering, with Pacino wickedly funny in his self-portraying cameo role.
CARS (2006) D- John Lasseter, A race-car gets pulled over for speeding, and has to help out fixing the road in a hick town until he has redeemed himself. I tend to have problems with heavily anthropomorphised films, but if you just give that away for 90 minutes you will discover a real gem of 21st century animated features. The graphics are stunning, and the voice characterisations (including Paul Newman in his last film) are spot on. Top marks.
A FANTASTIC FEAR OF EVERYTHING (2012) D- Crispian Mills and Chris Hopewell. Simon Pegg is researching 19th century serial killers, but becomes so consumed by his project he becomes afraid of every shadow. As it turns out, with good reason... Pegg (this time sans Frost) gives good VFM as the paranoid journo, but really there isn't enough substance to sustain a thin script. Pity. I like him.
ROXIE HART (1942) D- William Wellmann. A pretty young thing (Ginger Rogers, and they don't come a lot prettier) is prosecuted for a murder she didn't commit, and a shyster lawyer realises he can make his name by defending her. Sounds familiar? Should be. It's an early version of Chicago, heavy on the irony, and beautifully drawn together by Wellmann, who for my money was one of Hollywood's greatest directors.
SNOW WHITE AND THE HUNTSMAN (2012) D- Rupert Sanders. Evil queen Charlize Theron hears there's a threat to her "most beautiful woman in the kingdom" status in the shape of Kristen Stewart (that guy in the magic mirror has no taste) and determines to do her in. Unfortunately Snow White turns out to be a superior urban guerrilla, so this project is harder to carry out than she thought... A new take on the old story, competently made, but to this observer lacking in real bite (except out of the apple, of course).
ALONG CAME POLLY (2004) D- John Hamburg. Newlywed Ben Stiller takes his bride to St Barts for their honeymoon, but they've scarcely hit the beach before she falls for a French SCUBA instructor. Mortified, he comes home alone and hits waitress Jennifer Anniston on the rebound. But is he really over his wife? And do we give a shit? The prospect of an uptight, risk-assessing man maybe/maybe not finding happiness with an anarchic free spirit is the tension around which this film revolves, and all we see on the screen is highly professional. Just not funny enough.
WAR HORSE (2012) D- Steven Spielberg. A thoroughbred horse is requisitioned by the army and sent to the trenches in the Great War. Will Joey survive the most hellish conflict in human history?
Alfred Hitchcock once said that the aim of a movie is to make the audience experience emotion, and though Spielberg is no Hitchcock, his greatest talent is to enable the audience to do just that. From films like Jaws, through ET: the Extraterrestrial (remember how nearly all the shots in that were from the POV of a ten-year-old?) to this offering, Spielberg has cast his spell over the movie-going public to the point where, like his illustrious predecessor, moviegoers, most of whom have little interest in the director of a film, will be attracted to a product made by the bearded one. War Horse is perhaps a typical example of his best work: improbable, fabulous even, but still capable of arousing powerful emotions in those who experience it. It may not be a great film, but its impact is undeniable.
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