son of saul

I went along to the Watershed yesterday to see Laszlo Nemes’ acclaimed film “Son of Saul” (winner of the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar and Golden Globe) – an unforgettable Holocaust drama set in the Aushwitz II-Birkenau death camp in 1944 (I still struggle to realise that the holocaust happened just FIVE years before I was born).
Saul (brilliantly played by Géza Röhrig), is a Jewish prisoner who has been made part of the Sonderkommando, inmates given tiny, temporary privileges in return for policing their own extermination. They have to deal with the day-to-day business of herding bewildered prisoners out of the trains and up to the very doors of the gas chambers… and then removing the bodies. The film pulls no punches. It actually STARTS with a gas chamber scene.
It was shot entirely on 35mm film, and for most of it, the focus is on Saul’s agonised face, in tight close-up almost throughout - with the surrounding and background details often left blurred or indistinctly glimpsed.
In the gas chamber, Saul discovers the body of a boy, whom he believes to be his son, and he sets out to find a rabbi among the prisoners to give him a proper burial.
At times, I found it difficult to understand precisely what was going on… but, ultimately, this didn’t matter.
It’s a completely uncompromising and remarkable film. Unrelenting and courageous.
It’s not an easy film to watch, but one that I highly recommend that you do.

april 2016 books…

More book stuff:
The Narrow Road To The Deep North (Richard Flanagan): A simply brilliant, exhausting book… about, amongst other things, the despair, degradation and nightmare of a Japanese POW camp on the Death Railway. Reading it, I felt as though I was actually experiencing what it must have been like to be a prisoner. The book’s flysheet describes it as a “savagely beautiful novel… about the many forms of love and death, of war and truth…” – and I can’t argue with that. Flanagan is a wonderful writer and I was particularly drawn to his focus on how hard it is to live after survival. Dedicated to his father (Prisoner 335 – who, himself, was a POW prisoner), it’s a book about the incredible power of the human spirit. A stunning, wonderfully powerful book – probably in my all-time top ten list of books. Yes, THAT good!
Attention All Shipping (Charlie Connelly): Moira found this book in a charity shop and thought it would appeal to me. It’s essentially a book about the Shipping Forecast – or, rather, the thirty-one sea areas that make up the Met Office’s Shipping Forecast on Radio4. Connelly decides it would be a good idea to take a journey around all these sea areas. Frankly, it took me some time to “get into” the book. It seemed like a pretty spurious excuse for a book and, initially at least, I found his “humour” just a little tiresome and a “bit over-the-top”. However, I gradually warmed to both his task and his writing style and the book proved to be a fascinating, informative and amusing travel book.
Ariel (Sylvia Plath): Plath died in 1963. She committed suicide, aged just 30. She was married to Ted Hughes and I’d previously read his book of poems (“Birthday Letters”), published 35 years after Plath’s death. I have to admit I struggled somewhat with “Ariel” (published in 1965) – the writing is beautifully eloquent but, all too often, I found myself labouring over the meaning of individual poems (perhaps my intellect just wasn’t up to it?!) and yearned to read some background notes for each of them to help put them in context. I found them very dark and they frequently seemed to point to her impending suicide. Interestingly, I’ve just read an article by Lauren Niland in The Guardian, dated October 2012 (“Sylvia Plath – reviews from the archive”) in which she points out that: “The majority of her poetry was published posthumously, and most of the reviews of her work react against the knowledge of her suicide. Reading through reviews of her work, before her poetry became so intrinsically linked to her death, is an interesting experiment”… Bernard Bergonzi, for example, had reviewed her first collection of poems (published in 1960) and had admired Plath’s “highly personal tone and way of looking at the world", concluding that he "read this collection with considerable pleasure". By and large, it was only AFTER her death that her “Ariel” poems “established the idea that she raced headlong into suicide through her art”, as Niland puts it.
Starter For Ten (David Nicholls): This is a book (published in 2003) about a student (Brian Jackson) in his first year at university in 1985. The “Starter for Ten” title is a reference to Jackson’s place on the college’s University Challenge team. It felt like I was reading a book entitled “Adrian Mole, aged eighteen-and-a-quarter”… it was entertaining, funny and, at the same time, an excruciating reminder of all those embarrassing memories of my early years of university life (actually, not ALL my early memories are embarrassing, I hasten to add!). An enjoyable, albeit “unchallenging”, read.
Ethan Frome (Edith Wharton): Published in 1911, this short novel is about life in a fictional, desolate town in New England. Ethan Frome is a man with a history of thwarted dreams. He and his never-happy and sickly wife are joined by his wife’s cousin (who lives with them to help out around the house and farm). It’s a sad, haunting, compelling tale of their relationship – told in “flashback” form, 24 years after a life-changing incident. I found it a very good read.

music at saint stephen’s, bristol…

I know we’re coming a little late to the party (as it were), but Moira and I have been to a couple of excellent concerts at Saint Stephen’s Church – right in the heart of Bristol city centre – over the past three days.
The first one was last Saturday evening, entitled “Sanctuary”, hosted by Friendly Stage Bristol and Foundation Bristol, featuring The Rubber Wellies (followed by an Open Mic session) – in aid of the wonderful, local charity B-Friend, who work with refugees. Lots of happy people in attendance, a great atmosphere and fine music (and a lot of money raised for B-Friend). I think there’s another Friendly Stage evening being organised for later in the year.
The second was today’s “Monday Lunchtime Concert” (1.10-1.55pm and free!). These have been happening every week (except Bank Holidays) for quite a long time - certainly well before we became members of the Community of Saint Stephen’s, 9 months or so ago. Today’s concert featured the excellent singer songwriter Rosie Sleightholme (who has a voice to match Judy Collins and Eddi Reader and an ability to play guitar, ukulele, banjo and piano - plus, apparently, cello, violin, electric bass and zither(!) – to an extremely high standard!).

The type of music at these concerts varies. I see that May’s programme includes a jazz-rocker teaming up with a trumpeter; an eclectic concert featuring TWO double bassists; and a singer/guitarist playing Americana+Country Blues.

Not only that, there’s a concert this Thursday, 28 April at 8pm (tickets £7, I think?), featuring highly-acclaimed folk singer Saska Griffiths-Moore plus three other top Bristol female singers (tickets from www.bristolticketshop.co.uk).
Saint Stephen’s Café is also now open again and well worth a visit (9.30am-3.30pm Monday to Friday)… and features informal music sessions most Fridays in the café (one or two sets, sometime between 12 noon and 3pm). These have only recently started but, already, are proving to be very popular.
You can find out more on the Saint Stephen’s website: http://www.saint-stephens.com/

Talking to some of the people involved in organising these concerts/sessions, I sense that Saint Stephen’s is going to become an increasingly important centre for music and performance within the city over the next five years.

Exciting times!
Photos: Rosie Sleightholme at today’s lunchtime concert (top) and The Rubber Wellies at the “Sanctuary” concert on Saturday 23 April (bottom).

march-april 2016 books

More book stuff:
60 Degrees North (Mallachy Tallack): Tallack has spent most of his life in Shetland, which is itself on the sixtieth parallel. This is an account of the author’s journey westward, exploring the landscapes of the parallel (taking in such locations as Greenland, Alaska, Siberia and St Petersburg) before returning to Shetland. Tallack decided to make this journey not long after his father had died… and he admits that it was his “fixation” on the parallel that triggered his adventure (and hence this book). It felt a little like a pilgrimage that Tallack believed he’d been called to undertake before he felt able to accept Shetland as his “home”. It’s a very readable, frank and personal, book but one that, for me, lacked the quality and instincts of someone like Robert MacFarlane.
Raffles: The Amateur Cracksman (E W Hornung): I bought this on a whim in a charity bookshop. The Raffles character has always had a vague appeal but, I have to admit, I was distinctly under-whelmed by these eight short stories. I didn’t find either the quality of the stories or the cleverness of the plots impressive in any way. Hornung had apparently been encouraged to write a series about a public school villain by his brother-in-law Arthur Conan Doyle. I’m afraid there is absolutely no contest between Raffles+Bunny and Holmes+Watson. Very disappointing.
My Life In Houses (Margaret Forster): This is our Book Group’s next book. I have to admit that this is my first Forster book, so I read it without having acquired any ‘baggage’ from her other work (I knew she was married to Hunter Davies, but that was about it). It’s an interesting format: an autobiography (of sorts) written through her experiences of the houses she has lived in during the course of her life. Her first home was a council house in Carlisle and, until her early 20s at least, she clearly struggled to make ends meet… but I later found myself getting a little annoyed when she (and her husband) – as a life time socialist - began acquiring another home in the Algarve and then one in the Lake District, and another one near their parents’ homes in Carlisle (and ended up living six months a year in the Lake District and six months in London). I have to say, I didn’t particularly warm to her as a person. The book was published in 2014 and was written after she’d been diagnosed with cancer again – she’d had breast cancer in the 1970 (she died in February 2016) – and, for me, it comes across as just an ordinary, light (if rather charming) reflection of her life through her various homes. I felt that “I could have written that” – and I must admit that it did make me starting to list the houses I’d lived in during the course of MY life! I suspect that in many ways it was written because she simply needed to keep on her routine of writing that had become her way of life. I can certainly empathise that one’s domestic surroundings affect one’s mood and quality of life, but I would have liked “people” to have featured rather more than they did.
A Clue To The Exit (Edward St Aubyn): Ok, here’s the scenario: a successful screenwriter, ex-husband and absent father has been given six months to live… he heads for the south of France and resolves to stake half his fortune on a couple of turns of the roulette wheel and to write a novel… about consciousness. The novel is awful (about “spiralling self-awareness”) and he gives it up… As far as the roulette wheel is concerned, he comes to an agreement with a sex-obsessed, compulsive gambling, woman – he will allow her one million francs a day in exchange for passionate sex in luxury hotels. This might sound absolutely fascinating and thought-provoking… actually, I found it somewhat tedious (but, then again, maybe I wasn’t clever enough to appreciate it?). I’ve seen the book described as a “subtly disturbing comedy”… well, it didn’t do much for me, I’m afraid!
Regeneration (Pat Barker): This is the first book of the “Regeneration Trilogy”… somewhat typically, I read book two first (last December)! The book is set in the Craiglockhart War Hospital, Scotland in 1917, where army psychiatrist William Rivers is treating shell-shocked officers (soldiers from the ranks aren’t given such ‘consideration’) – with a view to making them fit(?) enough to return to the front-line in France. It weaves fact and fiction (Siegfried Sassoon, Wilfred Owen and Robert Graves, in addition to Rivers, feature prominently). The books starts with Sassoon’s passionate declaration, written in July 1917 (which he described as “an act of wilful defiance of military authority”), against the prolongation of the war: “I have seen and endured the suffering of the troops, and I can no longer be a party to prolong these sufferings for ends which I believe to be evil and unjust. I am not protesting against the conduct of the war, but against the political errors and insincerities for which the fighting men are being sacrificed”. It’s a powerful, inspiring, moving book which tells the chilling (largely previously-ignored) story of the ‘silenced voices’ from World War I. A frightening evocation of our attitude towards war (and its objectives of the time)… and the men brutalised by the experience.

iona (the film)...

Moira and I, along with friends Gareth, Alan, Eilidh and Ed went to the Watershed this afternoon to see Scott Graham’s film “Iona”. The storyline is about a woman called Iona (played by Ruth Negga) who, after a brutal crime, has sought refuge with her teenage son, Bull (played by Ben Gallacher), on the island of her birth that's also her namesake.
As you might imagine, having visited the island a number of times and having spent two months there as a volunteer with the Iona Community in 2012, this was obviously a must-see film for me… and so I spent a good deal of the film thinking to myself “yes, I know that place very well… and just down there lives so-and-so” and remembering the weekly ceilidh in the village hall (where we were NOT allowed any alcohol, incidentally!).   
Another plus-point was that the film also featured the excellent Douglas Henshall (who played Jimmy Perez in the “Shetland” TV series) as a widower crofter.
Graham makes excellent use of the Hebridean landscapes (even though the weather wasn’t as good as my time on the island in 2012!) and pays close attention to the part religion plays in the island's life (but perhaps a little too fleetingly to my mind?). He also deals sensitively with the courtship between Bull and a beautiful young girl (played by Sorcha Groundsell) who can't walk.
The film moves at a very slow pace and dialogue is relatively sparse… which seems only to accentuate the unspoken mystery of past events. The more we learn about the characters, the less mysterious they become. The plot is only revealed very slowly…
It would be wrong for me to give away too much about the storyline(!)… but it essentially involves guilt between members of a small family and one is left with the feeling that, within a tiny island community, “the truth will out, so don’t try to hide it”.
I’ve just read through some reviews of the film and some of them (particularly the American ones?) don’t seem to have much knowledge or comprehension of what it’s like to live on a tiny Scottish island such as this.
I enjoyed the film very much – although perhaps I’m slightly biased!

more on academy schools...

You won’t be surprised to learn that I don’t pretend to know the finer points of property law!
However, I do understand that, before the general election, councils in England held the title deeds to schools and land valued at over £2.5 billion.
Sadly, as far as I can tell, the government’s proposals for Academy Schools will have depressing and far-reaching (and probably irreversible) implications for education:
1. When a school becomes an academy, the title deeds of the school and the land are transferred to a private company
2. The government borrows £25,000 to pay the legal fees for the private companies to ensure the title deeds are transferred from the council (ie. us, the taxpayers who paid to build the schools) to these private companies.
3. To date, it seems that £1billion of title deeds for academy schools have been transferred from councils/taxpayers to private companies (high of it for legal fees alone).
It seems that Academy Schools are not primarily about education - they are about asset-stripping (with the directors and shareholders of the sponsoring private companies being the beneficiaries). I’ve come across one example of this via the internet – where an academy sold part of its school grounds to Sainsbury’s for £21million… and where the company running the academy is listed as operating from the Cayman Islands (ie. double whammy: with taxpayers missing out twice).
Be afraid. Be very afraid!
PS: if you know different and I’ve misunderstood things, please do let me know!

high-rise

Moira+I spent yesterday afternoon at the Watershed cinema, this time to see Ben Wheatley’s film “High Rise”, based on JG Ballard’s 1975 novel of the same name, and
with the excellent Tom Hiddleston playing the lead character (a well-off young surgeon who takes one of the bachelor flats near the top of a huge new apartment block).
One of my architectural heroes, Le Corbusier, saw the idea of the tower block as a way of providing spacious, peaceful, light-filled homes for the masses and, by building upwards, space would be liberated to surround such buildings with gardens and sports and cultural facilities. One of his most celebrated designs, built in 1952, was the 12-storey, "Unité d'Habitation" (originally called the “radiant city”) in Marseilles and included floors for shopping, social clubs, child care, a gym, a hotel, a rooftop garden and a swimming pool.
Well, this high-rise development, set in the 1970s (with Jeremy Irons playing the role of the block’s arrogant, somewhat demented, architect), is perhaps similar to Le Corbusier’s vision for living… but with added class conflict – a grand social experiment, a “crucible for change” (the lower classes live in cheaper flats on the lower floors, the middle classes on the middle floors and the upper classes “touching the sky”). Phrases like “know your place” and “don’t get ideas above your station” seemed particularly appropriate!
This building, however, also seems to be designed to isolate the occupants from the outside world, allowing for the possibility to create their own closed environment… but with the outdoor spaces appearing to consist mainly of car parking (with a very impressive array of vehicles from the1970s!).
It all disintegrates into the world reminiscent of an urban “Lord of the Flies”: life in the high-rise begins to degenerate quickly (perhaps a little too quickly in the film?), as power failures, refuse shoots blocked to capacity and petty annoyances among neighbours turn to violence. Scuffles are fought throughout the building, as floors try to claim lifts and hold them for their own. Groups gather to defend their rights to the swimming pools… and party-goers attack "enemy floors" to raid and vandalise them.
There were times when I felt the film was looking back on “class conflicts” of the present age (well, not class conflict exactly, more like the battle between society’s “haves” and “have-nots”)… and perhaps it does echo something of today’s capitalist world of rich, greedy landlords and how the less well-off are being forced out of cities, neighbourhoods and the like. I had expected to see a film that was a metaphor for today’s consumer culture, but it didn’t quite come across like that… and in many ways, I was a little disappointed.
I’ve never read any of Ballard’s books, but think of his work as being provocative, disturbing and frequently apocalyptic. This film was all those things…
Impressive, confusing, self-indulgent… and somewhat incoherent.
I think you probably need to see it for yourself.
PS: there were times when I almost found myself mixing up Hiddleston’s role with the one he’s playing currently in TV’s “The Night Manager”… (he's probably decided that this type of role earns him most money!).

academy schools…

The government’s latest education “initiative”, to make ALL schools in England Academy schools by 2020, fills me with absolute horror.
Be under no illusions, the government’s plans for academies represent a disaster for our education system – a system that has already suffered devastating, damaging and potentially irreversible revisions since 2010.
Some years ago, I worked in a secondary school which took on Academy status. I certainly felt that the decision to change was taken quickly, with minimum meaningful consultation, and implemented without the full implications being explained to either staff or parents. Essentially, it appeared that the powers-that-be at the school were ‘told’ by the government that, if they wanted extra money for their budget, then Academy status was their only realistic option.
Of course, Academy status was being ‘sold’ to schools in a flagrantly sugar-coated way (schools would be able to “take control of our own futures”, “achieve confidence and independence”; achieve “innovation and creativity” and schools would be “free from the shackles of bureaucracy”!)…
The government has also been promoting Academy Schools as a way to improve standards in education. It endeavours puts a positive spin on its Academy status policy – but academic analysis has simply refuted much of its key assertions.
Academy status will mean (amongst other things): schools not having to employ qualified teachers; an end to parent governors (in future, professionals with the ‘right skills’ will replace the parents with a multitude of skills!); and removing schools out of LEA control. All academy chains and academies will effectively be able to operate in secret, avoiding any accountability to anyone, let alone society as a whole.
Ron Glatter, Emeritus professor of educational administration and management at the Open University, describes the government’s current policy as appearing “to be based on a combination of ideological zeal and extraordinary organisational naivety” (eg. “1,000 trusts, each responsible for at least 10 academies, will be required by 2020. As of last July, there were just 39 trusts with more than 10 academies. Each new trust will need a chief executive, and the heads of some of the largest chains now have salaries in the range £150,000 to £225,000”).

I STRONGLY recommend that you watch this excellent 55 minute documentary, made by parents and teachers from Downhills School in Tottenham in their battle to stop Education secretary, Michael Gove, forcing them to become an Academy School in 2013.

As you might imagine (and no doubt read some yourself), there have also been lots of worthy words written about Academy Schools, following the Chancellor’s Budget announcement last week (nothing about such a policy in the Tory general election manifesto, of course!). You might to check out some of the following:
1.    An article in the TES by a Hampshire headteacher.
2.    Another article in the TES by a Suffolk headteacher.
3.    Reaction from the teaching profession in The Independent newspaper.
4.    Letters to The Guardian newspaper.
5.    An article in The Guardian on former education secretary David Blunkett’s reactions to the policy.
Hey, but these are just a few! No doubt, you’ll have your own examples…

Peter Bunyan, in a recent letter to The Guardian, maintains that “'executive' heads of multi-academy trusts… will have to be creative, and that is finding ways to cut costs and save money, as the supply from central government is reduced. The obvious way is to employ fewer teachers on lower salaries and employ more poorly paid teaching assistants. Another is to extend the school day, but add time saved on to extra holidays so that less money has to be spent on cleaning, general maintenance, office staff and providing meals. That is, cut down on hourly paid workers, the poorest in society. It will be interesting to see, over the coming years, what other ‘creative’ strategies will be adopted as all schools become small businesses, competing with each other for that valued ‘client’, the child”.

Apologies for all my negativity!

I read one anguished comment on facebook a couple of days ago, about the government’s latest education initiative, from a worn-down, disillusioned and angry teacher. She said: “Thank goodness that I’ll be retiring in a couple of years… I can’t stand much more of this” (or words to that effect).
I can only sympathise with her sentiments.
Sadly, it’s today’s children and tomorrow’s children (and society in general) who will have to suffer the consequences of the government’s ideology.
PS: Oh, and just in case you thought university education was all hunky dory, you might like to check out this article in The Observer newspaper: "a government adviser and crossbench peer has warned there could be an 'American-style catastrophe' in English higher education if ministers push ahead with plans to expand opportunities for private providers to become universities".

march 2016 books...

More book stuff:
A Year Of Marvellous Ways (Sarah Winman): A truly magical, life-affirming book. Our daughter had read it and loved it… and I’m in complete agreement with her! The book begins in 1947… Marvellous Ways is an 89 year-old woman who has lived alone in a remote Cornish creek for nearly all her life… she’s waiting for something, but doesn’t know what. It comes in the shape of Francis Drake, a young man recently returned from the battlefields of France. He’s on an errand to deliver a letter to a grieving father from a fellow soldier who died in the trenches. “Magical realism” is a phrase that I’ve only recently come across and this book seems to embody this… beautiful prose, imagery and a story of love, death and hope. I absolutely loved it!
The Unknown Terrorist (Richard Flanagan): This is my first book by Flanagan. I’d watched an “Imagine” TV programme about him and he seemed a fascinating, original writer. This book is set in Sydney, Australia not long after the atrocities of 9/11. It’s a thriller – on the face of it, not exactly my “cup of tea”, but I found it absolutely gripping. It’s about how a person can suddenly find themselves falsely accused of, in this case, involvement in terrorism. Politicians and the police urgently seek culprits and the media needs to sell newspapers and boost television ratings. It’s about the underworld of drugs, greed, pornography and smuggled immigrants and people’s racist attitudes towards Australia’s “non-whites”. In some ways, it reminded me of when Jean Charles de Menezes was shot dead at Stockwell Station, London after he was wrongly deemed to be one of the fugitives involved in a failed bombing attempt. I found myself silently pleading with the suspect to take particular courses of action (which she consistently ignored!). Compelling and chilling… a brilliant book.
The Year Of Living Danishly (Helen Russell): I LOVED this book and really enjoyed Russell’s wonderful, funny and self-deprecating writing style. Essentially, her husband gets a job at Lego HQ in Denmark and so she spends 12 months trying to discover what makes it the world’s happiest country. Yes, it’s not ALL sweetness and light but I think I’m a convert! High taxes BUT a comprehensive welfare system, free healthcare, free education (including university tuition), subsidised childcare and unemployment insurance guaranteeing 80% of your wages for two years. And there’s more, including: almost 90% of packaging is recycled; around two-thirds of Danes belong to a trade union; Danish employees are the happiest in the world and also rank top when it comes to worker motivation, work-life balance AND productivity; Danes work an average of 34 hours per week; 53% of all Danes undertake voluntary work; oh, and Danes over the age of 18 are paid to study. As Russell points out: “Yes, it’s expensive here. But it’s Denmark – it’s worth it. I don’t mind paying more for a coffee here because I know that it means the person serving me doesn’t a) hate me or b) have a crappy life. Everyone is paid a decent wage, everyone is looked after, and everyone pays their taxes”. The only thing I found slightly disconcerting was the colour choice of the book’s cover (bold blue and yellow made it look just like the Swedish flag!)… but, hey, nothing can be perfect! A really good, entertaining, informative read – HIGHLY recommended!
Rose (Georgina Hounsome+Alexandra Higlett): This book is written and wonderfully illustrated by my good friends Georgie+Alex (you could almost call it a graphic short story?)… and it’s simply beautiful. The short story is about a young woman who had lost her memory. In some ways, it seems a little strange to include this very small book in my reading log, but it’s such a delightful, gentle and poignant piece of work that I just couldn’t leave it out… and the illustrations are just perfect. I’m rather in awe of my lovely friends.
The Life And Death Of Sophie Stark (Anna North): Beware… the title contains spoilers!! This is a novel about an enigmatic film director (Sophie Stark), told posthumously by the six people who loved her most (her lover; her brother; her husband; a boy at college she had a crush on; her colleague; and the journalist who followed her film-making career. The book cover describes the Stark character as “brilliant, infuriating, all-seeing and unknowable” and that’s pretty spot-on for me. She’s talented and unorthodox, selfish and generous, in and out of people’s lives without warning or agreement (her brother Robbie reckoned that all his “strongest memories of Sophie were of her leaving”). It’s a dark story of a woman “on the edge”. It’s haunting and completely captivating. In her pursuit of producing great art, Sophie uses her friends unapologetically but, in some ways, this pursuit helped them to realise their own potential. A very good book.

anomalisa

Moira+I went to the Watershed this afternoon to see Duke Johnson/Charlie Kaufman’s intriguing, somewhat mystifying, film “Anomalisa”. It’s an unnervingly detailed puppet animation about a motivational speaker who spends one unhappy night in a Cincinnati hotel. The puppet animation initially put me in mind of Wallace+Gromit and Thunderbirds… but the very realistic sex scene (really!) soon put an end to that!
The main character, Michael Stone (voiced by David Thewlis), is an expatriate Brit in the US, who has made a successful career for himself writing motivational books about customer service (yes, I know) and is in Cincinnati to give a speech on the subject. Stone’s certainly not a charismatic character and he gives every indication of being clinically depressed or, at the very least, bored and/or alienated from the world/everyday life.
All the other characters (men, women and children) in the film, apart from one, are blandly, identically voiced by Tom Noonan… the one exception is Lisa (nicknamed “Anomalisa” by Stone), voiced by Jennifer Jason Leigh. Lisa is a bit of a fan (she’s a call-centre worker, has got his latest book and can’t quite believe when they get together) and Stone tracks her down when he hears her “different” voice passing outside his hotel room…
Perhaps, the sameness of voices relates to an uncanny “mask” required in order to achieve a pleasant customer service manner? Perhaps the puppetry is another reference to the invisible person on the end of the call-centre telephone?
The whole film is peculiarly creepy – the animation/puppetry is brilliant (realistic and yet completely artificial), the clothes frequently don’t fit (a bit like the Thunderbirds Parker!?) and there are times when the characters’ legs appear to be unduly short or misshapen (or was that just me?).
I found the film beguiling, sad, a little confusing (but that’s probably just me - I need to read LOTS of analytical reviews perhaps?) and completely fascinating.
I think you need to see it.
PS: I particularly enjoyed the scene in which Lisa, closing her eyes, wins Michael over with song - softly chanting Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Want to Have Fun”... it's really rather lovely. 

hail, caesar!

Moira+I went along to the Watershed this afternoon to see the Coen brothers’ film “Hail, Caesar!”.  It’s essentially a nostalgic, affectionate, tongue-in-cheek (and at times laugh-out-loud funny) look back at the Hollywood of the early 1950s… complete with glorious dance routines, biblical epic filmsets, “wooden” acting, gossip columnists and communist infiltration.   
It’s something of a period comedy-cum-farce… and, although the film has a “plot” (Josh Brolin plays a studio “fixer” who deals with ensuring any scandals are kept out of the gossip columns; one of the studios biggest stars, played by toga-wearing George Clooney is kidnapped and held to ransom…), it’s only used as a bare framework on which to hang lots of Hollywood clichés.
In addition to Brolin and Clooney, the film also features Tilda Swinton,  Scarlett Johansson, Ralph Fiennes, Channing Tatum, Christopher Lambert and Dolph Lundgren.
I feel sure that the Coen brothers have crammed the film full of clever references to Hollywood’s golden era and have educated film buffs purring in the aisles. If so, much of this went over my head, I’m afraid…
The opening paragraph of the Watershed’s blurb describes the film thus: “The Coen Brothers return with this giddy technicolour love letter to Hollywood’s Golden Age of the 1950s, a carefree, gorgeously-crafted comedy that is the most fun we’ve had in years”. Well, I can’t say I absolutely agree with this summary but, clearly, the cast and the Coen brothers DO appear to have had a wonderful fun time making the film!
It’s certainly not a brilliant film (in my view), but it IS pretty good fun and very watchable.

window wanderland

The past three nights have seen the “Window Wanderland” event take place in Bedminster, Southville and Ashton for the first time - and we’ve taken part… with the basement, living room and bedroom front windows featuring a drawing of a rather tall harbourside crane!
What on earth is “Window Wanderland” (I hear you ask)?
Well, the website describes it thus: “an inclusive grassroots event which lights up neighbourhoods with playfulness. It provides a common festive focus and encourages ‘hidden creativity’ to emerge. The displays from each event form galleries which celebrate their diversity and showcase the displays to the wider Wanderland Community, leaving a very positive legacy”. For a flavour of the event, I suggest you check out this video from the BS24/7 website.
Created in Bristol last year by Lucy Reeves Khan, the event saw lots of homes in Bishopston adorned in light-up art displays for the enjoyment of their neighbours and encouraged people to walk around their neighbourhood in groups to see the impressive creations of their fellow locals. 
This is the first year that homes within Southville, Ashton+Bedminster have participated in the event and over 150 houses, businesses and schools are taking part this weekend!

At one stage, I thought we might be able to put together something which incorporated contributions from all our Bristol family members… but, as the deadline drew closer, it became obvious that it wasn’t going to happen (busy, busy people!). So, in the end, I’m afraid it’s MY drawing work - with invaluable contributions from Iris and Rosa and their fat colouring pens!! It was all a bit scary: We had no idea how the image would come across to people walking past… Would it be readable? Would the limited colours be visible enough? Would it all disintegrate when we tried to “hang” the images? Would we be able to find enough decent spot-lamps to illuminate the images?

Well, in the end, our window stuff all seemed to work reasonably well (with a few misgivings)… and without too many mishaps!
All that remains to be done now (the morning after the weekend before…) is to take down all the art stuff, remove all the spotlights and cables… and allow normal daylight back into our lives!
The really lovely thing about the weekend was just how many people participated in the event – whether by producing their own window art or simply by roaming the neighbouring streets enjoying the spectacle… and, thankfully, the weather was very kind to us.
Lots of very happy, smiley people… it was very good fun!

Photo: harbourside crane view from our living room.

rams

Moira+I went to the Watershed cinema last night (yes, twice in two days for me!) to see Grimur Hakonarson’s film about two ageing Icelandic brothers who haven’t communicated for forty years – despite being neighbours - until their sheep flocks are threatened by disease.
For some time now, Iceland has provided a rather strange and attractive fascination for Moira and me - which only increased after we both read Sarah Moss’s “Names for the Sea: Strangers in Iceland” as one of Book Group books (recommended!), so it seemed only natural that we should see this film.
To be honest, even with the benefit of a little time for reflection, I still don’t quite know what to make of the film.
Lots of rather beautiful, bleak, wintry scenery… plus keen observation, sardonic humour and fine performances from the two brothers (Gummi, played by Sigurdur Sigurjonsson, and Kiddi, played by Theodor Juliusson). It’s a film about independence, self-reliance, isolationism, reconciliation… and stubborn stupidity(!).
The film was the winner of last year’s “Un Certain Regard” prize and apparently enjoyed a rapturous standing ovation. Judging by the audience’s somewhat stunned reaction at the end of last night’s showing, I find the standing ovation a little hard to understand… but, hey, what do I/we know?
Not quite an Icelandic saga, but it definitely made engaging viewing!
If Trump becomes the next US President and the EU referendum vote goes the wrong way, I might consider becoming an Icelandic sheepfarmer…
PS: I rather liked that the film credits included the names of the some of the sheep “stars” (including one named “Saga”)!

bone tomahawk

I went along to the Watershed this afternoon (and our friend Sarah was there too) to see S Craig Zahler’s film entitled “Bone Tomahawk”. To be honest, I’d only made up my mind to see it this morning – it wasn’t one of those films that I’d earmarked as a “must-see” movie. I just fancied another trip to the cinema.
On the face of it, it all seemed like a typical Western movie – you know the plot: a tribe of American Indians is terrorizing a frontier town. But this is no ordinary tribe of Indians. Certainly not.
These are cannibalistic cave-dwellers called Troglodytes!
Essentially, late one night, the Indians kidnap the local doctor (Samantha O’Dwyer – played by Lili Simmons), an imprisoned outlaw and the on-duty jail guard and take them off to their cave in the distant hill country. The town sheriff (Franklin Hunt – played by the excellent Kurt Russell) puts together a somewhat pathetic posse, consisting of himself, his ageing deputy (Richard Jenkins), the doctor’s husband Arthur (played by Patrick Wilson) and a rather sinister, conceited gun-fighter (Matthew Fox).
It’s a slow-burning, powerful film (at times, I felt that it was almost too slow) which keeps its focus and tension to the end. I’m still trying to come to terms with one particular moment of suspended disbelief (well, it was for me anyway), when Arthur (the other three had gone on ahead due to his badly-injured leg) takes an age to perform the minor surgery of removing a bone ornament from a cannibal’s throat whilst muttering aloud to himself: “Is that jewellery?”… and then proceeds just to “know” that, if he blows the aforementioned piece of jewellery, it will make an eerie sound that will be readily identified by the Troglodytes (and act as a lure or decoy). But, hey, perhaps I’d just closed my eyes at the wrong time and missed something?
I don’t think I should divulge any further details… except, perhaps, to say:
a)      that the film IS violent (or, as the Watershed’s blurb describes it: “violent, with a capital V!”),
b)      that it probably contains the most brutal death scene I’ve ever seen in the cinema,
c)       that I’m going to be practising my own, ghastly, primeval roar to terrify potential burglars, inconsiderate car drivers and the like (you’ll know what I mean if you see the film), and
d)      that I feel somewhat silly in not realising that the film title referred to a weapon… and not to someone’s name or piece of china!
I’ve just read a review by The Guardian’s Peter Bradshaw (who rated it a four-star film) and he reckons that “cult status could beckon” for this film… and I think he could well be proved right.
I certainly think this is a film you should see… BUT I strongly advise not to watch it immediately following a large meal!

february 2016 books

More book stuff:
The Old Ways (Robert Macfarlane): I’m a great fan of Macfarlane (I’ve previously read and greatly enjoyed two of his other books: ‘Mountains of the Mind’ and ‘The Wild Places’). He’s an extremely gifted, intelligent writer who has a captivating, almost poetic, writing style. Essentially, this is a book about what it is to follow a path (on land or at sea). John Banville reckons that ‘Macfarlane reminds us of what it is to be civilised’ and I certainly wouldn’t argue with that. This paragraph, from near the end of the book, gives a “feel”: ‘As I walk, scenes open up in my memory from the paths I have followed, coming fast and clear as lantern slides: the green phosphorescent wake of Jubilee as she trundles north to Sula Sgeir, the white paths of the English chalk country, Manus’s three-stoned cairn-tracks overflown by gannets, the mirror-line of the Broomway. Bodily recollections surface: the rasp of limestone in Palestine, the slim iron needles of the Spanish pine woods, the sandstone dust of the Black Mountains, so soft underfoot. The remembered senses of spaces small and wide: the beehive shieling set in the open moor of Lewis, the cool interior of the qasr near Ramallah, the dark glassy water under a stone arch on the Shiants. And so many people, so many path-followers’. I absolutely LOVED this very special book.
Why I Wake Early (Mary Oliver): I love Oliver’s poetry. She has a natural gift for conveying the wonder of the ordinary (even if perhaps, for me, this book lays a little too much emphasis on the creatures she encounters on her morning walks!). The book’s title is particularly apt for me (early morning creature that I am!) and I can imagine her taking her unhurried, daily morning walks amongst the local pinewoods, ponds and hills. I love the fact that she sees (and celebrates) things that most people might never notice. Looking, seeing, reflecting, celebrating the simple things in life. Another beautiful book.
A Heart So White (Javier Marias): This is our Book Group’s latest book. The original’s written in Spanish and, I must admit, I struggled with the rather stilted style of the translation at first. The book has a somewhat unnerving, haunting quality as it chronicles the unremitting power of the past. There are clearly family secrets, and Juan begins to ponder what he doesn't really want to know. Juan’s job means he has to shuttle between the UN in New York and the Hague for six to eight weeks at a time, while his wife remains behind in Madrid to establish their home together. In Juan's absence she develops a close relationship with her father-in-law, a charismatic art dealer named Ranz who, though in his seventies, has not lost the charm that enabled him to marry three times despite the fact that his first wife died mysteriously and the second committed suicide upon returning from their honeymoon (and he ended up marrying his second wife’s sister!). Juan is dogged by feelings of unease and suspicion. It's a novel about the nature of relationships, truth, deception and much more. Juan's slow narrative style, and his thought process, slowly creep under the one's skin. Beautifully written and cleverly conceived. I’m looking forward to hearing what our other book group members make of it!
Epitaph To ‘Nickle Eck’ (Eric Yates): Coming from Birmingham myself, the sub-title to this book (“Childhood Mischief in Wartime Birmingham”) rather appealed. It tells various tales of two brothers (Eric and John) during WW2 and, on the face of it, might have been quite interesting. Unfortunately, I rather think the author (he worked for Bass Charrington for 20 years – ironically, my brother also worked for them in the early 1970s - and was also a one-time presenter for BBC Radio Birmingham and ‘into’ amateur dramatics) saw himself as God’s gift to story-telling. Sadly, he isn’t. Eric Yates’ wife put the book together after his death and, although he was clearly a ‘character’, I found her descriptions of his talents just a little over-the-top (“About The Author”). Here’s just one example: “he and his wife performed in Salcombe, where he is celebrated in the South Hams for his performance in the famous music hall sketch ‘Dinner for One’” (really?). The book is mildly amusing, but hardly the “treasure trove of Second World War stories” that the cover claims! Sorry!
Night Cycles (Beth Morey): This book is a collection of raw poetry centred on a theme of spiritual death and resurrection (drawn from Morey’s own experience of that desert place Saint John of the Cross called “the dark night of the soul”). This all sounds pretty bleak – and, certainly, some of it is – but I actually found her words encouraging and hopeful. She writes with a simple directness and with the ability to articulate emotions and feelings. I’ll certainly be dipping into these poems on a regular basis.

valentine’s day massacre…

Yesterday, for the first time for over 20 years (yes, I know, shameful!), I attended a Villa home game.The opponents were Liverpool and I sat alongside my great mates Steve and Dan Eyre (great mates – even if they’re also Liverpool supporters!)
Well, as anyone who has the remotest interest in football will know, things didn’t go too well for the Villa… This is a slight understatement.
They lost 0-6.
It was their worst ever home defeat in the Premier League.
Liverpool didn’t actually play brilliantly either... they really didn’t need to (they scored six goals from nine shots on target!).
Villa’s performance was extremely painful to watch… embarrassing for all concerned. Lack of skill; lack of passion; lack of leadership; lack of ideas; lack of organisation; lack of talent… and, perhaps not surprisingly, complete and utter lack of confidence.
Villa were pretty much clueless in defence (frequently statuesque). In their current plight, the manager must surely look to the senior players to use their experience and to help and encourage the younger players. In the event, Lescott and, in particular, Richards (both England internationals) had terrible games. Lescott’s positioning was dire throughout the afternoon and Richards just didn’t seem interested in playing at all (and he’s the team captain!)
Villa’s midfield was poor (they failed to support the attack in any numbers and left the defence wide open): Westwood was one of the few players who seemed prepared to battle (but I really question if he’s a premier league player – not for much longer anyway!); Bacuna had an awful game (riddled with errors); ironically, defensive midfielder Gana looked reasonable going forward, but lacked any the cutting edge to counter the opposition’s midfield; Veretout was largely anonymous and never really got involved.
All too often, when Villa DID attack, it involved just one isolated forward. Agbonlahor was ineffective and apparently went off with vertigo (yes!); although Gil was probably Villa’s most skilful player, he again lacked support; the “talented” Sinclair (he came on after 58 minutes) consistently fails to “produce the goods” (but he did hit the post and was Villa’s most effective player - not particularly high praise in the circumstances!).
Villa’s performance yesterday was abject.
They’re clearly going to be relegated this season – on paper, they COULD escape but, in reality, based on this performance, it’s just not going to happen… and, frankly, they don’t deserve to avoid relegation.
People talk of Villa being “too big a club for the Championship” and that they’ll have no problem bouncing straight back up to the Premier League the following season. Frankly, without a wholesale cull of the existing playing staff and new investment, this is just a fairytale.
I’m old enough to remember Villa dropping down from the old First Division to the old Third Division in four seasons (1967-1971)… and, believe me, it was a very tough job clawing their way back to Division One (which they did in 1975).
One might have imagined that the fans would have booed the team off the field at the end (yes, there were SOME boos, but not that many in the circumstances) or to have simply staged a mass walk-out 20 minutes before the end… but no. Instead, the wonderful Holte End supporters ended the game in full voice (constant chanting+clapping)… and bragging to the Liverpool supporters that THEY were making more noise at the end of the game!
Dan+Steve were very magnanimous at the end of the game – almost embarrassed by how easy it had been. In the meantime, I’m expecting a letter from Villa’s Board of Directors asking me not to attend another home game for at least another twenty years!
Photograph: the huge Villa banner being paraded at the Holte End before the game (the “exit” sign, top right, seems somewhat apt in the circumstances!).