a private war...

I went along to the Watershed this afternoon to see Matthew Heineman’s film ‘A Private War’, chronicling the life and career of war correspondent Marie Colvin (superbly played by Rosamund Pike)(I think I’m quietly in love with her!). You will no doubt be aware of some of Colvin’s work for The Sunday Times over a period of some 17 years, until her death in Syria at the Siege of Homs in 2012 (and her eyepatch, after losing the sight of her left eye in a bomb blast in Sri Lanka in 2001).  
It’s a film that pulls no punches about the horrors of war.
It’s chaotic, stark, frightening and tense film which makes you wonder how on earth people are prepared to put their lives on the line in order to report the truth. War journalists and photographers are clearly a very special breed. The film captures a palpable sense of danger and fear.
Colvin herself was clearly damaged both mentally and physically by her war experiences… but she was also a courageous, driven journalist who wanted the world to know how ordinary people are affected by decisions made by people in power (and Assad is still in power today).
The film is structured around a ‘countdown clock’ to her death – starting some eleven years before Homs – and it’s strange that, even know the entire audience knows she dies ‘in the end’, it acts as an important reminder that ‘she might have got away with it this time, but eventually the odds will catch up with her’.
I’ve just read Peter Bradshaw’s review in The Guardian and he regrets that the film “stopped short of revealing the woman behind the myth”. Frankly, I’m not sure I agree with him. For me, I wanted to learn about the Colvin the war correspondent (and her relationship with the newspaper/editor) and not her upbringing or private life. But, hey, it’s a film, not a documentary and, no doubt, there are lots of details that have been papered over or ignored in order to tell the story.
The film is a remarkable homage to Colvin, but also to journalists everywhere… and I was utterly captivated by it.

february 2019 books…

Crazy Rich Asians (Kevin Kwan): Well, ‘crazy’ is an apt description! The story focuses on the relationship between a New York woman who agrees to spend the summer in Singapore with her boyfriend of two years’ standing. What she hasn’t previously been told is that instead of the imagined ‘humble family home’, she finds herself in a world of opulent lifestyles of the ultra-rich elite ‘whose lives revolve around making money, spending money, flaunting money, comparing money, hiding money, controlling others with money, and ruining their lives over money’. It’s funny, ridiculously absurd and reads like some sort of TV soap/Dynasty series (which I really can’t abide on principle). For all that, I almost feel embarrassed to admit that I found it extremely readable and entertaining!
Slouching Towards Bethlehem (Joan Didion): This is a book of articles written by Didion in the 1960s for various magazines and newspapers. She’s a compelling writer and reading her observations and insights, from the perspective of someone in their late 20s/early 30s and at a time well before the internet (not to mention Kennedy and Vietnam and the like), makes for absolutely fascinating reading. The topics are wide-ranging – from lifestyles in the ‘golden land’ (she hails from California); morality; keeping a notebook; and Alcatraz – but I found her essays(?) about remembering her arriving in New York as a 21 year-old ('Goodbye To All That', written in 1967) and one entitled ‘Slouching Towards Bethlehem’ (again written in 1967, after a poem by WB Yeats) particularly entertaining/poignant/revealing. The latter tells of her time spent in San Francisco, living amongst friends and strangers who were pursuing/seeking an alternative lifestyle in which drugs (of all kinds) featured prominently (eg. “The next day I drop by Max and Sharon’s, and find them in bed smoking a little morning hash. Sharon once advised me that half a joint even of grass would make getting up in the morning a beautiful thing”). At times, it almost felt like reading Hemingway (pretentious? moi?!), but there’s only one Joan Didion. 
Weird Bristol (Charlie Revelle-Smith): Apparently, this book first started life as a Twitter feed sharing lesser-known facts about the city and gradually developed into the ‘Weird Bristol’ project. The book’s cover describes it as ‘the ultimate guide to a city’s secrets’. Frankly, although it DOES contain some fascinating references to various locations and stories within the city (who could forget the story of the fully-grown lion kept in a cage beside the bar of the Bull pub in Bedminster in 1827, for instance?), much of the book seems to regurgitate stuff that’s already well known… and, to my mind, certainly not everything could be classified under the heading of ‘Weird Bristol’. Interesting, nevertheless.
Wrestliana (Toby Litt): Ruth+Stu gave me this book on the recommendation of Emily+Dan at our brilliant local bookshop, StorySmith Books (how many bookshops do YOU know that would say “your Dad will love this book”?!). Litt’s great-great-great-great grandfather, William Litt (1785-1850), was a champion Cumberland wrestler – a huge man who reigned undefeated in one of the 19^th century’s most popular sports, taking home over 200 prize belts. He was also a published poet, a novelist, a gambler and, almost certainly, a smuggler. He ended his life in poverty and exile (in Canada). Toby Litt (who has written twelve novels and short-story collections) eventually decided to write about William Litt after repeated ‘suggestions’ from his father. The resulting book, however, is much more than a biography - it’s also a personal memoir of family and fatherhood and a fascinatingly honest self-analysis of his work as a writer and the role of masculinity in the ‘modern world’ - coloured by his own disappointments as a writer and his experiences of bullying and competitive sport at school. A beautifully-written, compelling book.
Pops: Fatherhood In Pieces (Michael Chabon): Another gift book on personal recommendation from StorySmith Books(!). As you probably know, Chabon is a bestselling/Pulitzer Prize-winning author (to my shame, I’d never previously read anything by him). It’s a series of essays about the joys and struggles of being a father (he has four children): “You are born into a family and those are your people, and they know you and they love you, and if you are lucky, they even on occasion manage to understand you. And that ought to be enough. But it is never enough”. What are you allowed to talk about with your children? When to step in with advice, when to let them make their own mistakes? I found the essays to be beautiful, gentle, wise, respectful and funny. It’s a very special book and I absolutely LOVED it.

wise children...

Wow! I think I might have just seen the best piece of theatre I’m likely to see in the entire year!
Moira and I went along to the Bristol Old Vic last night (another packed audience) to see Emma Rice’s adaptation of Angela Carter’s novel “Wise Children” (published in 1991). This is the first show by the newly created Wise Children Theatre Company… and it received rave reviews when it first appeared at the Old Vic, London before Christmas.
I can absolutely see why!
The play follows the fortunes of twin chorus girls, Dora and Nora Chance, and their bizarre theatrical family (they’re the illegitimate twins of a preposterous old thespian Sir Melchior Hazard, who has never acknowledged his daughters).  The twins are in their dotage (it’s their 75^th birthday that day) and live in somewhat seedy surroundings south of the Thames in a rather ancient caravan (wonderfully devised by Vicki Mortimer) and they receive a surprise invitation to Melchior Hazard’s Sloane Square party. Before making the journey, the twins tell their life story, starting right back at the conception of their parents.
It’s a bizarre, riotous journey and there’s an almost Shakespearean ‘feel’ to it all – including characters changing sex, colour and age with daring rapidity. It’s a story of rivalry, love and life (and show business) in which acting is a way of survival. It’s about vanishing youth, but also about a determination to live life to the full.  

The twelve actors are all absolutely magnificent (I particularly loved Melissa James’ and Omari Douglas’ portrayals as the Dora and Nora showgirls and Katy Owen as the hilarious Grandma – but, really, everyone was stunning). The dancing, the movement, the singing, the humour, the acting, the colour, the band, the set, the lighting… the overall design.

Simply wonderful.
It was a really glorious, joyous evening. At the end, the packed audience IMMEDIATELY gave them all a hugely-deserved standing ovation… which went on for some time.
Tomorrow is the last night at the Old Vic, but ‘Wise Children’ will also be performed in Manchester, York, Chester, London and Coventry over the coming weeks/months. Check out the website.
PS: I think the ‘Wise Children Theatre Company’ (based in Bristol) is going to become a very special, exciting organisation within our lovely city. They’re committed to the following:
1. “Producing landmark work with exceptional artists and touring it across the country.
2. Creating The School for Wise Children where 50% of places will be available free.
3.Discovering the creative spaces of the future.”
PPS: You might recall that, in January 2016, Emma Rice was appointed artistic director of Shakespeare's Globe in London. Just a few months into the role, in October 2016, it was announced that Rice would be leaving it in April 2018; the announcement followed a decision by the theatre's board, which cited concerns over authenticity and her use of lighting technology. I think the Globe might end up regretted their decision! The Globe’s loss is definitely Bristol’s gain!!

if beale street could talk…

I went to the Watershed this afternoon to see Barry Jenkins’ film “If Beale Street Could Talk”, based on the James Baldwin novel of the same name. It’s set in Harlem in the 1970s and tells the story of a young black couple (newly pregnant Tish, played by KiKi Layne, and her lover Fonny, played by Stephan James). Fonny is falsely accused of rape. Like so many young African American men, he has been arrested and jailed on the trumped-up charge, following a run-in with a grudge-bearing, young white policeman.
The film opens with a bold quotation from Baldwin’s book: “Every black person born in America was born on Beale Street” and goes on to cite “the impossibility and the possibility, the absolute necessity, to give expression to this legacy”.

The last two films I’ve seen (‘Vice’ and ‘The Green Book’) both featured the scary, prejudiced, racist world of 1970s America and this one merely underlined this. It’s all very shameful and depressing (I just hope American audiences are equally sickened by what’s happened in the not-so-distant past).

It’s a beautifully produced film (graceful cinematography, evocative score) and Layne and James are both excellent in their respective roles (KiKi’s mother, played by Regina King, was also very impressive). It’s a hugely powerful and important tale… but my one slight reservation was that it was just that – a story. To my mind, any invented story can’t be as powerful as the real thing. No doubt, such events DID actually happen in New York City at that time, but I frequently found myself thinking: “this has been made for the entertainment of cinema-goers”.

After writing the above, I’ve read a gushing, 5-star review of the film by Mark Kermode (“heart-stopping cinematic love story, told with a tough but tender truthfulness that left me weeping and swooning”)… so maybe I’ve been a little harsh?

Well, I thought it was a really good film, but I certainly wouldn’t have given it 5 stars.

vice…

I went along to the Watershed this afternoon to see Adam McKay’s film ‘Vice’ which, according to Watershed’s blurb, is the “untold story that changed the course of history forever”. Well, I’m not sure that that’s strictly accurate but it’s certainly a fascinating and powerful story (‘biopic’?) about Dick Cheney, one of the world’s most powerful political men, who was Vice President to George W Bush… often cited as the most powerful Vice President in American history.
Christian Bale plays Cheney and he’s stunningly good… and VERY convincing (yet another Oscar contender). Actually, all the main characters were excellent (Amy Adams as Lynne Cheney; Steve Carell as Rumsfeld; Sam Rockwell as Bush).
It purports to be fact rather than fiction. Indeed, at the very start of the film, we’re told:
“The following is a true story. Or as true as it can be given that Dick Cheney is known as one of the most secretive leaders in recent history. But we did our f**king best”!
Cheney went from being Secretary of Defence, to White House Chief of Staff, to a CEO of energy giant Halliburton, and finally to George W Bush’s second in command – although, in the film at least, Cheney seems to pull ALL the strings.

I really didn’t know what to expect from the film… knowing the political history, I was pretty sure it would make me angry (which it did)… but I hadn’t realised that it would also be quite hilarious at times (I know!). There’s almost an element of a Michael Moore film (with its various voice-overs) in the way it’s presented. I found it incredibly scary to realise (if the film is anywhere near accurate) just how much power Cheney had and how he was able to wield it in the White House, the Senate, the House of Representatives and how corporations were mobilised through influential thinktanks such as the Heritage Foundation and the Cato Institute. I’ve read an interview with the director, Adam McKay, in which he describes Cheney, alongside Donald Rumsfeld, as having orchestrated a “rightwing stealth-revolution that ushered in a sustained era of Republican power and idealism” in the late 1970s… with President Reagan claiming that “true individuals don’t need government” and proposing tax breaks for billionaires(?). For me, it was a reminder of the depressing Thatcher Days in the UK in the early 1980s.

Cheney clearly had enormous political power… quiet, focused, deliberate, secretive and, to my mind, incredibly sinister. After all the controversy three years ago about Hillary Clinton using her family's private email server for official communications rather than using official State Department email accounts, I thought it was telling that McKay’s film ended with a list of frightening ‘facts’ that had emerged about Cheney’s Vice President office – including the THOUSANDS of emails that were destroyed in violation of the requirements of the federal records act!

In some ways, I felt that the film was made for the likes of me… someone with ‘liberal principles’(?) who had lived through the Reagan days – as well, obviously, the Twin Towers and the Iraq War – confirming my prejudices perhaps? American Republicans will no doubt dislike McKay’s interpretation of events – even they love Bale’s performance. For me, depressingly, the way matters were hidden or manipulated by Cheney and his entourage echoed much of what I suspect is still happening in the world of politics today – both in the USA and in the UK.

Did I enjoy the film? Well yes I did. I found it both captivating and entertaining (and somewhat frightening) – although, at times, I found the biopic style and voice-overs a little off-putting.
But definitely worthwhile seeing, especially for Christian Bale's performance.

january-february 2019 books…

The Leavers (Lisa Ko): A brilliant novel telling the story of an American boy and his Chinese birth mother and the spirit-breaking difficulties of belonging and the plight of illegal immigrants. At a time when terms such as ‘immigrants’ and ‘refugees’ are constantly in the news, this book comes as a welcome reminder of the brave, heartrending, brutal stories that lie behind the headlines. It’s a courageous, sensitive book about families, relationships and human dignity. I loved it.
Raven Black (Ann Cleeves): I absolutely loved the ‘Shetland’ TV series and thought it was about time I read the books. Well, I absolutely loved this too! I found the Jimmy Perez character (quiet calmness etc) really believable and there was something about the gentle rhythm of island life (despite the murders) quite compelling. Perceptive and convincing. Cleeves is a really excellent writer… and I have two more books lined up on my bedside table (and there will be more in due course)! Brilliant.  
Remembering Richie (Richie Benaud+friends): Benaud has always been a bit of hero of mine – both as a cricketer (he was a leg-spin bowler/batsman just like me!) and as a journalist/broadcaster. As an architect, I recall working on a project for a London client who lived next door to the Benauds… and me needing to make a ‘schedule of condition’ inspection of their apartment and feeling that I was somewhere akin to being on ‘hallowed ground’! I think I met Benaud’s wife, Daphne, in the course of my visit. This book, published after his death in 2015, is a compilation of extracts from his various books and articles and a host of tributes from colleagues and friends from the world of cricket and beyond. Benaud always seemed to have all the gifts – intelligence, knowledge, discernment, humour, articulation and being the ‘master of the measured word’ (as journalist Ian Wooldridge once described him). A lovely book.
Ghost Wall (Sarah Moss): This is a short novel, set in rural Northumberland at the end of the 20^th century, that sees a 17 year-old girl and her parents joining a university professor and a group of students for a few days to live as the ancient Britons did: foraging for food, dressing in tunics and observing iron age rituals. The father – a bus driver by day and obsessed amateur historian by night – has armed himself with all the necessary skills for survival and is there to pass on some of his knowledge to the students. He’s not a pleasant character. He thinks women should ‘know their place’ and he doesn’t tolerate those who fail to share his values or who disobey his pronouncements. The book starts with a short prologue, in which an iron age girl is marched out and murdered before an audience of neighbours and family… and this sets the tone for the unfolding story. I’ll say no more… It’s a tense, haunting, gripping and unsettling story by an excellent writer.
Reaching For Mercy (ed. Chris Goan+others): This poetry anthology is unapologetically ‘spiritual’, sometimes angry, sometimes expressing disappointment and regret, frequently raw and honest… but also saturated with hope. Edited by eight individuals including my friends Chris Goan (from previous Proost collaborations/Leeds exhibitions) and Emily Magrath (from Saint Stephen’s church, Bristol) – with contributions from nearly one hundred poets (including our vicar Lee Barnes) from around the world. I first came across the book at one of the twice-monthly ‘Resonate’ gatherings at Saint Stephen’s. Organised under the following headings: ‘hope’, ‘post truth’, ‘lament’, ‘ordinary-sacred’, ‘wild’, ‘everyone is welcome’, ‘whole’ and ‘resisting’… I’ve gently working through the book over the past three months or so and found it both challenging and inspiring. A lot of very talented people!

green book…

Moira and I battled against the elements this afternoon to see Peter Farrelly’s “Green Book” at the Watershed. The film is based on a true story (and I think the word “based” is important to note as I suspect that it’s been a little ‘hollywood-ised’ to give us all a rosy, feel-good glow!) about a successful, world-class, black jazz pianist, Don Shirley (played by Mahershala Ali), in 1962, who hires Italian-American white man from the Bronx, Tony Lip (played by Viggo Mortensen) to chauffeur him around America’s Deep South.
Shirley is well aware of the troubles he might face in different locations due to his skin colour and, in appointing Lip as chauffeur-cum-protector, he relies of his muscular presence to confront/repel potential trouble-makers.  
The two principal actors are outstanding and the film is both funny and poignant – underlining, as it does, the awfulness of the USA’s attitude towards race and colour (although, as I’d implied earlier, it sometimes came over as trying to reassure a ‘liberal white audience’ who want to feel good about not being racist!).
Strangely, I’d previously seen the trailer and, as a result, had had fairly limited expectations for the film… but I was very wrong.
I’d read an article in The Guardian which claimed that Shirley’s real-life family had reacted “with hurt and anger” and had asserted that there had been no close friendship between the pair (and they also criticised the film-makers for not consulting them).
Anyway, whatever happened or didn’t happen, I REALLY enjoyed the film… and I really enjoyed the relationship between the central characters (which quite surprised me, as I’d rather been ‘put off’ in seeing the brief trailer extracts).
No doubt Oscar awards are entirely possible!
I thoroughly recommend it.