january 2020 books…

Waiting For The Last Bus (Richard Holloway): I love Holloway’s gentle wisdom and compassion. Holloway (former Bishop of Edinburgh) is now 86 years old and, for him, having spent a lifetime at the bedsides of the dying, writing a book about life and death is both close to his heart and insightful for us all. In recent years (since 2000?), he has taken “an agnostic worldview and commenting widely on issues concerning religious belief in the modern world” (as described in Wikipedia) and his own theological position has become increasingly radical (he has described himself as an "after-religionist", with strong faith in humanity). I found myself agreeing with LOTS of his reflections, such as: the wonders of modern medicine and its ability to keep most of us alive well into our eighties but also with “signs of having a profoundly distorting effect on the balance of society as a whole”; and also in politics: “elderly voters are a powerful reactionary force in politics… they are more disciplined and consistent than the young in voting, so as they increase in size as a cohort of the population their envies and resentments are bound to have an increasingly distorting effect on political processes”. This is a wonderfully tender book – joyful and moving, challenging and comforting – which calls on its readers to think seriously about the meaning of life itself. I loved it.

Morning Glory On The Vine (Joni Mitchell): This is a very beautiful book, published in 2019, comprising some of Mitchell’s early poems, songs and drawings (she used to carry a sketchbook with her everywhere she went). In 1971, her manager and agent took a binder of her drawings and hand-written lyrics and had a limited edition of books made up for Mitchell to give out to friends as Christmas presents that year. There are some 25 poems and 35 song lyrics in the book. Obviously, as an avid Mitchell fan since the late 1960s, I was familiar with most of the song lyrics (although I had forgotten two or three from her 1968 ‘Song to a Seagull’ album – and another remained unreleased until 2009, on ‘Amchitka’). I love her sketches and suspect I might try to emulate her ‘style’ in a few of my sketchbooks in due course! It’s a book I’ll continue to ‘dip into’ for evermore.

Hope In The Dark (Rebecca Solnit): At a time when I’m feeling helpless and hopeless about so much in the world, I felt the need for something a little uplifting… hence this book. Solnit is an activist, columnist and cultural historian and this is a fascinating and well-written reminder of social change and activism (climate change, war in Iraq, the fall of the Berlin Wall, Black Lives Matter, Occupy Wall Street etc) that has happened over the past five decades. The book comprises a series of essays and was first published in 2004 (this third edition, published in 2016, contains additional contributions). I certainly found it inspiring but, at the same time, was reminded of how often we come across history repeating itself, the ‘deafness’ of politicians and the same mistakes being made. But it was also a useful reminder of just how much progress HAS been made in so many areas – attitudes towards fossil fuels; the need to radically reduce carbon emissions; apartheid; homophobia; food banks etc etc - and also a reminder that ordinary people have frequently overcome powerful corporations and overturned political policies. So, yes, a hopeful book – but also a reminder of how much energy and determination is necessary to help make desperately-needed changes. 

The Sixteen Trees Of The Somme (Lars Mytting): I think I was destined to read this book (recommended by one of my lovely bookgroup friends, Emily)… a mystery that includes the isle of Shetland and the WW1 battlefields of the Somme. The novel is written through the eyes of Edvard, a young man in his 20s, who grows up on a remote mountain farmstead in Norway with his grandfather. The death of his parents, when he was 3 years old, has always been shrouded in mystery. When his grandfather dies and it transpires that the undertakers already have a beautiful, highly ornate coffin set aside for him, designed and made by his estranged brother, Edvard embarks on a voyage of discovery which takes him on a long journey – from Norway, to the Shetlands and to the battlefields of France. It’s an evocative, intricate, complicated (at times perhaps overly complicated?), clever story about the love of wood and finding your own self. I really enjoyed it… it ticked all the boxes for me. It’s a very beautiful, satisfying book.

The Box Of Delights (John Masefield): This children’s novel (published in 1935) is the slightly unusual (perhaps even strange?) choice for our bookgroup’s next book. We’d decided to select a ‘Classic’ novel for our book choice and we’d all come up with various suggestions, but this one ‘won the vote’. It’s a fantasy tale of a 12 year-old boy returning from boarding school when he finds himself mixed up in a battle with an evil gang (and wolves), led by a magician, to possess a mysterious box. It allows the owner to shrink in size, to fly swiftly, to go into the past and to experience the magical wonders contained within the box. It felt a bit like Enid Blyton ‘doing’ Harry Potter (but very badly) - with ‘Alice in Wonderland’, ‘The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’ and a smattering of ‘Dr Who’ thrown in. Yes, I accept that I need to take account of when it written and yes, it’s highly inventive and imaginative… but I found it all a little TOO ridiculous. There were several times when it seemed that Masefield couldn’t work out the next stage of the plot and so simply conjured something up (literally)(a bit like how Dr Who’s ‘sonic screwdriver’ always seems to save its writers when they can’t work out what happens next!). Yes, there were parts that I found amusing - especially the attitude and ‘logic’ of the police inspector and when the radio announcer asked the public “to co-operate with the Police by giving instant, accurate information of a red, white, blue, grey, brown or black motor bus – the colours had been variously given by various observers…”. ‘The Times’ apparently described the novel (and Masefield’s “The Midnight Folk” companion work) as “two of the greatest children’s books ever written”… but I’m afraid I was rather underwhelmed.

romantics anonymous…

Moira and I went along to the Old Vic last night to see Emma Rice’s/Wise Children’s stage musical “Romantics Anonymous” (a musical adaptation of Jean-Pierre Améris’ 2010 film "Les Emotifs Anonymes" - which I haven’t seen). Rice’s show premiered at Shakespeare’s Globe in 2017.The story focuses on two people who struggle with debilitating, cringe-worthy shyness – they’re overwhelmed by life; they’re hugely insecure and awkward; they avoid eye-contact… and, as far as possible, other people. In fact, ‘Romantics Anonymous’ is a real-life help group that helps people with such shyness and screenwriter/director Jean-Pierre Améris, a highly emotional person himself, had attended real EA (Emotions Anonymous) meetings.

The evening proved to be an intoxicating mix of tender melancholy, joy and hope. It’s touching, funny and uplifting. The cast (led by the perfect Carly Bawden, playing Angélique, and the excellent Marc Antolin, playing Jean-René) were all rather wonderful – and genuinely seemed to be enjoying themselves (which in itself is quite intoxicating).Although I’m not a massive lover of stage musicals, last night demonstrated (yet again!) how wrong I frequently am to form such ‘rigid’ opinions. The songs (and the musicians) were consistently very good and ALL the singers excellent (especially Bawden). I also loved the set design, the wealth of neon signs and the incidental, beautifully-choreographed ‘extras’.
Yes, it all made for a delightful, feel-good, joyful (even hopeful!) evening of theatre - magical theatre at its very best… and greeted by last night’s enthusiastic audience with a standing ovation.A perfect answer to the January blues!
PS: I also loved that, towards the end of the interval (and completely in the spirit of the production), the cast entered the packed Foyer and singing a worthy lament (accompanied on accordion, guitar and the like)… which ended up with the words “right, now get back into the theatre you lot and we’ll carry on with the show” (or words to that effect!).
PPS: Wise Children is a relatively new theatre company, created and led by artistic director Emma Rice and based in Bristol. We saw their wonderful “Wise Children” production (based on Angela Carter’s novel) last February – which proved to be my favourite piece of theatre last year).
PPPS: Sorry, but I think the photograph is from the Shakespeare Globe's 2017 premiere.

jojo rabbit…

My third trip to the cinema this year (and this includes two in the last three days!).

I went along to the Watershed this afternoon to see Taika Waititi’s “Jojo Rabbit” - despite being told in advance that there were a couple of pretty poor reviews in The Guardian. But, hey, it came highly recommended from a couple of friends, so I decided to take the ‘risk’… and I’m REALLY pleased I did.

I enjoyed it immensely.

It’s a bizarre black comedy (the Watershed blurb described it as a “smart anti-hate WWII satire”) and is set in Germany in the last days of the war, where 10 year-old Jojo’s (Roman Griffin Davis) only friend is an imaginary (and idiotic) Adolf Hitler (played by Waititi himself)… but Jojo’s misguided, fanatical faith in the Hitler Youth is shaken when he discovers that his single mother (Scarlett Johansson) is hiding a young Jewish girl (Thomasin McKenzie) in their attic.

It’s a completely ludicrous scenario… and yet I thought it worked beautifully.

I found the funny bits (and there were lots) laugh-out-loud funny… and yet, the film was also able to capture the sadness, the pain and the absolute horror of war.

For the second time in a matter of days, I find myself writing the words: the “futility and horror of war” (in my “1917” review), but I also think the film powerfully highlighted the potential evil of ideology and its frightening consequences.

I thought all the actors were simply perfect in their roles (I previously omitted Sam Rockwell who played an army officer who runs the Hitler Youth camp and Jojo's 'other' best friend Yorki, played by Archie Yates)… and I also really loved the cinematography (which managed to incorporate beautiful colour palettes, clothes and interiors). At times, it even felt like a Wes Anderson film.

I went along not quite knowing what I was letting myself in for (and, yes, I absolutely accept that this film won’t be for ‘everyone’), but I absolutely LOVED it – even better than the brilliant “1917” film in my view (I know!). I needed a film that would make me laugh and this certainly did (and it very nearly made me cry too). Quite ridiculously perhaps, it also made me feel quite joyful and even strangely hopeful.

I don’t want to give too much of the plot away (whisper: Germany lost the war), but I also thought the end of the film – when Jojo and the young Jewish girl start dancing on the street – was just PERFECT*.

PS: *They start dancing to David Bowie’s “Heroes” (the German version, of course) – one of my favourite songs… for lots of nostalgic reasons.

PPS: In an interview, director/writer Waititi said this: “When Hitler got into power in 1933, little by little, every single day or every week, there was just one small change. People recognised that it was wrong, but it wasn’t big enough to really get everyone up in arms. It wasn’t big enough until it became too late…”.

1917...

I went along to the Watershed again yesterday to see Sam Mendes’ much-acclaimed film ‘1917’. It’s a WW1 drama based on the real-life experiences of Mendes’ grandfather Alfred. It follows two young soldiers Schofield (played by the impressive George MacKay) and Blake (equally impressive Dean-Charles Chapman) as they undertake a perilous mission in a race against time to deliver a warning message to save another regiment from a German ambush. Among the 1,600 men whose lives are at risk is Blake’s own brother…

It’s an incredibly powerful film – made all the more so by cinematographer Roger Deakins’ presentation as a ‘one take shot’ in real time (Schofield is never out of the frame).

The film underlines the futility and horror of war – with soldiers on both sides mere pawns responding to orders given by Generals who are positioned well back from immediate danger. 
The ‘one shot take’ emphasises the stark reality of what it was like to be a soldier on the front line… and the randomness and luck involved in survival (Blake had been given his orders to convey the important message and told to take a ‘mate’ with him).

The film underlines the dreadfulness of conflict… as Schofield and Blake make their way across no-man’s land, they have to contend with rats, bodies (in various states of decay), craters left by bombs and large shells, mud, noise, imminent danger and the fear of the unknown.

An important, hugely-impressive, memorable and sobering film.

I think you need to see it.

PS: It was also sobering to recall that my grandfather, Frank Walker, was probably positioned within 30 miles of Schofield+Blake’s frightening ‘escapade’. I wrote a blog about Frank’s war (he was one of the original members of the British Expeditionary Force that arrived at le Havre, France, at the very start of the war) – tracking his day-to-day movements from his unit’s war diaries now located in the National Archives. Sadly, the diaries from 1917-18 are understood to have been destroyed in a fire in London.  

little women...

Moira and I went along to the Watershed this afternoon to watch Greta Gerwig’s “Little Women” – in the words of the cinema’s blurb: “a fresh interpretation of Louisa May Alcott’s beloved 1868 novel”. I knew the basic storyline, but had never read the book (or any of its sequels). So, you probably know far more about it than me!

Essentially, four teenaged sisters and their mother live in a new neighbourhood in Massachusetts in ‘genteel poverty’ (with the emphasis on the ‘genteel’, it seems to me). Having lost all his money, their father is acting as a pastor, miles from home, involved in the American Civil War…

The original book was loosely based on Alcott’s own family experiences – although (according to Wikipedia) she had an improvident, impractical father and the family suffered REAL poverty and occasional hunger – not any of this ‘genteel’ stuff (and she needed to write in an attempt to earn some money for the impoverished family).

It’s certainly a heart-warming film, a powerful story, full of strong, attractive characters and fine actors (including Saoirse Ronan, Emma Watson, Florence Pugh, Timothée Chalamet, Laura Dern and Meryl Streep – and I absolutely fell in love with Saoirse Ronan’s Jo March character!) and, clearly, the story is an endearing one… but, for me – despite me being something of a sentimental old fool(!) – I found it all rather too sugar-coated for my liking.

Clearly, having now read a few film reviews (which seem to consistently give it 5-stars – with the occasional 4-star!), I’m very much in the minority. I DID enjoy the film – and no doubt in years to come we’ll be watching re-runs on cosy, winter Sunday afternoons around the fireside sipping our mulled wine and feeling good about the world – but I’m pretty sure it won’t make my top 10 films of 2020 (ok, so this is my FIRST film of the year!).

PS: You’ll no doubt remember that Greta Gerwig directed the much-acclaimed “Lady Bird” film (which I loved), which also featured the wonderful Saoirse Ronan in the lead role.