Thursday, November 06, 2008

of time and the city


Moira+I went to the Watershed again on Wednesday evening to see Terence Davies’s film “Of Time and the City” (a bit of a rush but we made it for the 6.20pm slot). Having spent a couple of lovely days in Liverpool last week, we thought this film would be a good way to cement our fond memories of the city on the basis of the following text in the Watershed’s November Programme: “Images of Liverpool past and present are magically combined with a wonderfully rich selection of music ranging from Handel to The Hollies, voices, radio clips and the director’s own voice-over narration. The result is a poetic love letter to his native city and a haunting evocation of post-war Britain.”
Well, actually, we weren’t that impressed!
Yes, there WERE some fascinating/amusing/poignant images and, yes, the musical accompaniment was at times quite inspirational but we ended up feeling somewhat disappointed by what we’d seen and, rather than a “poetic love letter”, we felt that at times Terence Davies gave every impression of being just a grumpy old man!
Photo: Liverpool's Albert Dock - taken on our trip last week.

2 comments:

Ellen Loudon said...

we went to see it on wednesday and terrance davies was there for a chat afterward. I know what you mean about sounding grumpy but I felt it had a pathos to it. I felt it was very very sad. Despite his humour and is entertaining manner davies came over as a solitary figure still saddened by the loss of his mother and a terrible sense of guilt. Particularly painful for me to hear were is memories about the loss of his faith and the continued sense of bitterness toward the Catholic Church. Despite all that I loved the film and hearing him talk about its creation. Hey ho. xxx

bigdaddystevieB said...

Many thanks for this Ellen. Think your comments are probably much fairer than mine! We really WANTED to love the film, but ended up feeling somewhat disappointed. Very envious that you were able to hear him speak about the film and its creation.
x