You Were Never Really Here

A brutal movie!

It looks good, sounds good, but otherwise is difficult to like.

Screen-1 at the Curzon in Victoria is tiny, a mere 47 seats, but what comfortable, Pullman seats they are! I’m not a fan of allocated seating, even less so when someone is sitting in your allocated seat. With just 4 rows in the auditorium the wing seats are quite a way off centre and the front row is pretty close to the screen. Despite ending up in a seat out on the wing, the view was not a problem.

On the train into London there was an extremely distressed infant and in the evening I watched the disturbing We Need to Talk About Kevin, by the same director, Lynne Ramsay. All in all a pretty disturbing and cheerless day.

Remembering my mum on Mother’s Day

1921 – 2018

This is my mum on her 93rd birthday. She didn’t look her age, and it’s how I will remember her.

In her later years, but before going into care, she liked sitting down with her feet up; watching TV and Holby City; reading the Mirror and the Daily Echo; chewing toffees; visits from her family; visits from the carers; tea but not coffee. She dozed a lot.

She loved driving and the independence it gave her. At the age of 89 she stopped driving – and her swollen knee suddenly got better.

She was a strong old lady. She had a lovely smile and looked a bit like our Queen. We all miss her.

Just another Friday night

Rough Justice, the new Belgian series on More4 started out promisingly but then crawled along to become a lightweight piece of Euro-crime. The following BBC4 documentary on Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells was interesting but it seemed to make more sense to listen to the album itself. So courtesy of YouTube I’m listening on headphones and simultaneously finishing off one of the short stories from Tom Hanks’ Common Type. As I write this I’m into the last quarter of the album. This may be the first time I’ve ever listened to the whole piece. There are some dull bits and lots of pieces I know I’ve heard before. So, a mixed bunch of ‘tunes’ (for want of a better word) – I guess it was pretty revolutionary in its time and I think it stands up pretty well. A glass of red wine would have been nice.

The Prophet – Michael Koryta

The Prophet, by Michael Koryta, is a terrific thriller / crime novel. Although centred around American football, (I know nothing of this strange sport), it’s a gripping tale of brotherly guilt which also made me want to try to understand the game. It’s a well written and plotted story and highly recommended. Some might find the football details a bit annoying – I didn’t. I’ve noted Michael Koryta as an author worth seeking out for  his other novels.

Alongside Skinny Dip by Carl Hiaasen, this has been a promising start to March’s reading.

That was the week that was

This week, the new Dell laptop came. It’s very, very quick, having an i7 processor and a solid-state drive rather than a hard-drive. What a contrast to the old (7 years) one.

The last two episodes of Modus on BBC4 confirmed the series to be a dreadful mess and a waste of 8 hours. However binging on Maltese: The Mafia Detective, on All4 was most satisfying. (binging or bingeing?)

Reading Skinny Dip by Carl Hiaasen was a terrific  romp about a husband who throws his wife off a cruise liner on their wedding anniversary.

Needing extra motivation to visit the cinema more often, I became a member of the Curzon art-house cinema chain.

Snow is always a childish delight for me but its stay was all too short and there really wasn’t enough of it.

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