Matching Curtains

Deep voices and words.

I've been a bit quiet on the music front of late for which I hang my head. It's not to say that I haven't been busy. I've been revisiting Tindersticks, who seem deliciously suited to the dusky autumn evenings (baritone and occasional xylophone - mmm what else do you need?!). On the subject of deep voices, I've also finally got around to getting hold of Micah P Hinson's third album Micah P Hinson and the Red Empire Orchestra, which is lovely in a really dusty, old fashioned kind of way. I'm very tired today so don't expect an eloquent review in any way, but I do want to share some of my thoughts with you, so here goes.

Hinson's a guy with a story to rival the likes of Johnny Cash: a Texan former drug addict and ex-con who has done time in both jail (by the age of 20) and mental institutions, who has since found spiritual redemption through true love. The collection of alt-country songs on this album manage to capture both his troubled past and a sense of bliss from his having finally found romantic contentment - it's nothing less than a tender but intense paean to his newly wedded wife. If it sounds cliched, believe me it's not. It's natural, honest and one of the most emotional albums I've heard in a good while. The way his deep, scratchy voice claws at the line 'Constantly craving what isn't mine' on 'Tell Me it Aint So' is heartbreaking; the Shadows style guitar accompanying his vocals on the dramatic 'You Will Find Me' evokes visions of a lonely traveller enduring harsh struggles on the open road; and the celebration of the 'love of my life' in the dreamy 'Sunrise Over The Olympus Mons’ is deeply moving without being sickly. The power of the album to move grows on repeat listens; my personal favourite is 'When We Embraced', a sweet, dinky wee ditty which is about as well packaged a little song as you could hope for. I'll stop raving. Go and listen for yourselves! You might not have led the roguish life of the singer but if you've got any heart at all, I'll bet you'll be enchanted.

On another note, Otherstories put me onto Wordle today and what joyous wordiness it provided me with. By the wonders of technology it's picked out key words from my current blog page and assembled them in a very pretty fashion. See?

To what end I did this remains to be seen. But isn't it a cute font? Ho hum. That must be the publisher in me talking which surely means it's time for me to say ta ta.

RocknRolla

RocknRolla, the latest film from Guy Ritchie, is a slick and witty, very British gangster film with a retro feel that informs the opening sequences and a large part of the film's look. It's ensemble cast, featuring Tom Wilkinson, Gerard Butler, Mark Strong, Toby Kebbell, and Gemma Arterton (who seems to be everywhere these days and was very impressive in the BBC's adaptation of Tess ..), is excellent and you can tell that they all enjoyed making this movie.

The plot is centred around a deal between Lenny (Wilkinson), a key figure in the British criminal underworld, and the head of a Russian gang who is involved in a building scam in London. When a painting owned by the Russian boss is loaned to Lenny and finds its way into the hands of his crack addict stepson Johnny Quid (Kebbell), a rock star apparently based on Pete Doherty, the stage is set: heads will roll, guns will be toted and someone will be eaten by crayfish ...

The plot has lots of twists and turns and keeps you constantly gripped and entertained, it's humour bubbling away even as people are getting kneecapped. The large cast all put in stellar performances and it's to the writer's credit that you never feel dislocated by the switching and swapping between subplots and characters from various factions - whether it be the homoerotic subtext of the friendship between One Two (Butler) and Handsome Bob (Tom Hardy, and yes he is very handsome), or the thrillseeking ways of bored accountant Stella (Thandie Newton). This is a popcorn movie with balls which follows on nicely (if you can use this word in such a context) from Ritchie's Lock Stock ... and Snatch. It relies on cliches in the best possible way, employing and overturning them to push forward the plot and garner a wry smile from the audience at the same time. I couldn't possibly say how on the money it is but I suspect it presents an idea of gangster life rather than a reality - suspend disbelief and prepare yourself for a rollicking good time without asking too many questions, and you will indeed enjoy yourself. This is a film which makes no apologies for being an out and out, dyed in the wool, good old fashioned gangster movie and is all the better for it. RocknRolla sees a return to form for Mr Madge, which I admit to being pleasantly surprised by. With this endeavour Ritchie has again elevated the British gangster flick from it's place in the shadows of it's American counterparts. If the promise at the film's end is anything to go by, I hope we see a sequel. If you fancy a fun night out at the pictures, you could do much worse than this sharp and stylish effort.

Six Feet Under - farewell (sob!)

Last night I watched the very last episode of Alan Ball's Six Feet Under, having made my way slowly through the bargainous box set I bought ages ago. Over the five seasons the Fisher Family have stared death in the face at their Funeral Home, the characters have taken on the feel of real people to dedicated fans, such is the depth and subtlety of the performances. Of course there is melodrama (Lisa's sudden disappearance and the cloudy reasons behind it; David's abduction and Brenda's sex addiction are but a few of these dramatic excesses), but the central characters are rarely pushed aside for the sake of the plot. There are of course exceptions - David's boyfriend Keith is subject to some pretty unlikely changes over seasons 2 and 3 - but on the whole, the show offered compelling and entertaining value for money.

Although it remained essential viewing and was head and tails above more soapy TV dramas even throughout its patchy periods, you can't escape the fact that the show has been somewhat inconsistent - there have been some genuine 'What the fuck?' moments as you wondered what on earth the writers were thinking. Despite this, season 5 is pretty special and I'd encourage people who start to tire of the show during the aforementioned runs to keep with it. Not many shows kill off a central character before the finale but it happens here. I guess this is par for the course for a series which emphasises the blurring of life and death, whilst still ensuring death remains 'other' as it observes the relationship between time and our life choices in honest and unwavering style. And, I should add, with an intense and hyper sensitive panache. Characters project feelings and insecurities onto the dead in fantasy sequences, hallucinations and conversations which reveal and conceal the meaning of their life choices and the afterlife in perplexing and wonderfully shot scenes.

It's hard to discuss the show's finale - 'Everyones' Waiting' - without wanting to dissect its events and thus reveal spoilers to people who've not seen it, but suffice to say it has a powerful emotional impact. Given the show's patchy history, I was surprised by how much I was affected by the last ten minutes of the episode. I won't reveal much more, but will say that that the episode is entirely character focussed and reveals just how much the cast's performances have created fully realised people whom we invest in warts and all. At times the show has proven unremittingly gloomy and the loneliness of the Fishers been almost too much to bear, but the finale transcends all of this in what is paradoxically both the show's happiest and most unnerving episode. It's characters are not perfect but nor is life - or death for that matter - and it is this, our society's final taboo of death, which the show is so successful in toying with. Six Feet Under is a show which is simultaneously sombre and morbid, almost defiantly introspective; and yet camp and humorous. It tackles themes ranging from older women's sexuality and homosexuality, to incest and drugs, and never employs the cheap stunts used by more pedestrian shows when dealing with this kind of subject matter.

Nate (Peter Krause) is arguably the show's pivotal character and his sister Clare (Lauren Ambrose) the person you are supposed to identify with, but for me the most compelling performances come from Frances Conroy as the passive aggressive Ruth, the Fisher matriarch who is so self denying you fear for her sanity; Michael C Hall as the conflicted and dutiful David; and lastly the brilliant Rachel Griffiths as the super intelligent and totally damaged Brenda Chenowith. Griffiths is the star of the show in my eyes and the character who, despite her incredible (in the truest sense of the word) past, most quickly leaps from the screen. Brenda's character development is traumatising and yet tinged with hope - to people who argue she is a narcissist, I would say that most of the characters in the show are and that Brenda is at least the most self aware(!). Griffiths is never less than 100% watchable and conveys an intelligence and gravitas that is omnipresent even as Brenda stoops to even greater emotional lows. Brenda's self disgust and road to recovery is not the stuff of heartwarming TV films and the past she shares with her brother almost begs some kind of preequel (to whet your appetite, there aint gonna be a follow up series, for sure ...). Joanna Cassidy as her monstrous mother is hilarious and horrendously selfish in equal measure - the antithesis of the boundary ridden Ruth, she has no limits and the tension between her and her daughter is tangible. There aren't many TV series which can offer you as good a back story for their supporting cast as they can their key players, but in Margaret Chenowith and her son Billy, the script writers have done just that.

So. Some HUGE themes are addressed in this frustrating but addictive show. It's easy to see the links between this and Alan Ball's American Beauty, so if you've never watched it but loved AB, I really implore you to give it a go. The show is as lavishly shot as the movie, but with 50 odd hours of footage you can really sink your teeth into Six Feet Under and not wonder if it is a mite pretentious, which is a fear I always have to shake off about American Beauty. If you like American Gothic fiction, Heathers, David Lynch and well written American literature, then you will adore this show despite its flaws, just as I do. 

The Other Boleyn Girl - DVD review

Having watched The Other Boleyn Girl I felt compelled to comment on how empty I found this movie. The source material - Philippa Gregory's historical novel - is hardly Shakespeare, but then Mario Puzo's Godfather books are considered by many as trashy fiction and they led to some of the greatest films ever made!

The story looks at the scandalous romantic and political court intrigues during the reign of Henry VIII and reveals that before Anne Boleyn was made the king's second wife, thus changing the course of English history forever, there was in fact an 'other Boleyn Girl' who'd caught the spoiled and fickle monarch's eye. Like the book, the movie makes much of the king's switching from one Boleyn sister to the other and lays the blame very much at the door of Sir Thomas Boleyn (Anne and her sister Mary's weak-willed father) and the Duke of Norfolk, their uncle. The pair's political ambition saw them use the Boleyn sisters as pawns in their quest to secure ever more greater power, whoring the sisters out to suit the king's whims. Henry VIII is played by Australian actor and former stand up comedian Eric Bana (Chopper, Troy), who is certainly dashing and pulls off brooding impeccably, but whose casting is simply ridiculous. He is far too handsome and modern looking to play the ever expanding (and, lets not kid ourselves, ginger) Henry, and whilst he performs the role well his physical attributes are too distracting and contemporary to allow you to really buy into him as the King. On the other hand Natalie Portman's delicate features and twinkling eyes ensure she is well cast as the beautiful and scheming Anne, although it appears the script writers couldn't quite decide whether to write her as a vengeful jealous sister who will stop at nothing to be queen, or a victim of circumstance. This means that at times the sparky Portman flounders as her character vacillates between real cunning and utter helplessness, attributes which are flipped from scene to scene as abruptly as the king exchanges one sister for the other. Portman, usually so reliable, cannot redeem this poor characterisation and again we are left unconvinced by another key player. The only one of the three protagonists who is credible is Scarlett Johansson as Mary, the lesser known sister who catches the kings eye and who, despite already being married, is pushed by her family into 'beguiling' Henry when Anne initially lets them down. Johansson has already taken on the role of naive ingenue in the memorable Girl with A Pearl Earring (again, based upon an atrociously written book but unlike this, a movie which improves on its source), so it was no surprise that she worked as the comely, simple character of Mary. Whilst Anne schemes her way into Henry's bed, Mary seems to genuinely love him and serves as a convincing foil to the ruthless ambition of everyone around her. I only thought it a shame that the complex relationship between Mary and the beleaguered Katherine of Aragon (as depicted in the novel) was omitted from the film - this would have added some more tension as there is very little between the apparently competing sisters.

Obviously a core part of the movie is devoted to the king's need for a male heir. Ana Torrent is very impressive as as Katherine of Aragon, the vulnerable queen who becomes too old to provide her husband with a son. Kristin Scott Thomas is also worth mentioning; as the mother of Anne and Mary she rails against the position of women as little more than livestock. However her remonstrations are spoken as if 100 years too soon and left me wondering whether a wife would really have spoken so boldly at the time. There are many other historical inaccuracies - not least the fact that Mary had a teenage daughter as well as a son by the time Anne was confined to the Tower. Key characters are also packed off with little or no explanation and crucial plot drivers given little time to unfold with subtlety. Benedict Cumberbatch as Mary's first husband disappears never to be seen again and her relationship with second husband William is passed over so quickly, it comes as a complete surprise when she hotfoots it to his farm to be with him. The dissolute and decadent circles which historians state Anne surrounded herself with are absent from this film, as is the speculation around her brother George (a miscast Jim Sturgess) and his homosexual liaisons. These issues were all used against Anne to indict her for treason, and would have made the film a far racier and more exciting offering than it ends up being had they been in place. Similarly, the incest storyline between Anne and George, more implied in the book, is badly handled in the movie and goes nowhere - like many of the strands of what could have been an epic movie. The ghoulish allegations of witchcraft made against Anne also seem tacked on, but were seriously employed by Henry once he wanted off with her (head). The book makes a number of suggestions that Anne resorted to dark arts and in my opinion, if this movie wanted to eschew historical accuracy (it seems like it did), it would have done well to have considered beefing up this part of the story - it would certainly have added a darkness and suspense which is missing from this glossy project. And let's face it, the ending isn't going to surprise anyone, so the writers should have considered other avenues to keep the audience interested. Ultimately, this film doesn't know whether it wants to be a fictionalised or a faithful account of history and the result is consequently very messy.

It's a shame that this sumptuously shot and gorgeous looking film is such a damp squib. A driven and complicated personality like Anne Boleyn is deserving of much more sophisticated storytelling than this; it's impossible not to compare this pretty but vacuous movie with the striking and complex Elizabeth films from Shekhar Kapur. Director Justin Chadwick did wonderful things with the televised Bleak House, so it is doubly disappointing that he did not think more carefully about what screenwriters to use or how best to tell this story of blinkered ambition and hubris. Portman is let down by a script which is plot driven and jumpy, Bana and Sturgess completely miscast, and all the pretty dresses and castles in the world cannot make up for a shocking lack of imagination. And as for the sexual tension I read about - where exactly was that? Not even the peachy Johansson could generate sparks in what is essentially a victory of style over substance. I read a Guardian review which said this movie was like Hollyoaks in fancy dress, and it really truly is. I've seen more depth in a Neighbours storyline and felt sorely let down by this shallow effort. 

I did like Anne's dresses though ...

Pineapple Express

Pineapple Express is another Judd Apatow offering about stoner Dale (Seth Rogen, who Empire magazine have quite rightly compared to Fozzy Bear in a recent issue) and his dealer Saul (James Franco), who get caught up in a dangerous drug war after Saul sells Dale a rare type of weed called - you guessed it - Pineapple Express and Dale unwittingly witnesses a murder.

Readers will be familiar with how fond I am of Apatow and his band of merry men and the brand of stoner humour they perpetuate, and indeed of my 'thing' for Mr Rogen. So it saddens me to say that despite this, I just didn't find Pineapple Express funny. A better subplot would have helped immeasurably - the notion of the infuriated girlfriend who is dragged into events is hardly new and we never really know what happens to Dale's girlfriend after events are wrapped up. It was a device which was tired and seemed tacked on for the sake of it. Many of the jokes were centred around the protagonists being high which I'm also not sure works as a spectator sport. Like the movie's heroes I'm not opposed to a bit of of the old waccy baccy but suspect a story filled with pratfalls and stoner laughs does not a movie make. Perhaps if I'd had a smoke before I went in? I don't know ... There were redeeming qualities though: the buddy movie aspect of the film was very sweetly performed by its leads and Franco is revelatory as Saul; he really does seem permanently stoned and is much looser and almost unrecognisable compared to the stuff I've seen him in before. It was also clear that the writers and director had enjoyed composing the thriller/action aspect of the film, but there was no tension at all and it was clear from the start that every one would emerge unscathed. I know it's a comedy and I should be kinder towards it, but I felt a darker kind of humour would have been more effective. Pineaple Express is silly and has some peaks, but it saddens me to say that taken as a whole, this film sees Apatow and his team lose their golden touch.

Paris Je T'aime - DVD Review

Paris Je T'aime is an unusual, experimental film which brings together a number of directors including Gus van Sant, Alfonso Cuarón and the Coen brothers, each telling a different story about different characters who are played by some of Hollywoods finest stars: to name but a few, Juliette Binoche, Maggie Gyllenhall, Elijah Wood, Nick Nolte, Steve Buscemi, Bob Hoskins, Natalie Portman, Miranda Richardson and Marianne Faithfull (fleetingly, but you'd know that inimical voice anywhere) all feature. Each story takes place in a different androissement and although I'd been led to believe each narrative is woven into the next to offer viewers a sense of continuity, this only really happens right at the end. Otherwise the different story strands are fairly independent of each other, though all deal with themes of love and longing with the spectacular backdrop of Paris as the movie's main character. It was fun to identify traits common to each director as their segments began, and how they manipulated the scenery of Paris to their artistic fancies: the Coen's camera zooms and offkilter close ups flourished in the tubular Metro stations and the bleached quality of Wes Craven's cinematography seemed well suited to the graveyard scenes which he subverted in a romantic comedy rather than a horror style. Of course, some tales worked better than others and it was interesting to see which my companions favoured and whether any of our preferences dovetailed.

My highlights included Japanese director Nobuhiro Suwa's magic realism, used to convey the grief of a mother whose son has died (Juliette Binoche). This was very effective in the grand yet melancholy night time setting of Place des Victoires: the uncanny arrival of a cowboy (Willem Defoe) and her son in the square outside her home convey her anguish and how haunted she is in a moving and ghostly way. Other highlights were the twist in the tale of Alfonso Cuarón's contribution, where a pair who are apparently lovers transpire to be father and daughter discussing not the woman's husband but her son. The two are filmed in a continuous shot (reminiscent of the stunning continuous shot of Clive Owen in Cuarón's Children of Men) and we never see them in close up, which renders the pair more anonymous and the twist more punchy somehow. Bastille,written and directed by Isabel Coixet, is also memorable and features a powerful silent performance from Miranda Richardson as a formerly philandering husband's dying wife which draws parallels with Coixet's latest movie Elegy. Gurinda Chadha's segment about teenage relationships is very sparky and her teenage cast eloquently portray the tribulations of falling in love whilst managing to evoke issues about race in a non-patronising way. Her segment has a more modern feel than the majority here and I liked how race was treated as an adjunct to the teenager's attraction to one another; it felt like racial stereotypes were addressed and overturned deftly without being too heavy or overearnest.

My absolute favourites were segments including one with Elijah Wood as a vampire on the pull; Oliver Schmitz's Place des Fêtes, where a dying man prompts a newly qualified medic to recall a previous encounter; Tom Tykwer's Faubourg Saint-Denis, in which Natalie Portman falls in love with a blind man, and the wonderful Coen brother's take on American paranoia featuring the marvellously comical Steve Buscemi as a tourist. Vincenzo Natali's vampire story leans heavily on the style of Sin City, another movie in which Elijah Wood tries to shake off the Frodo tag, and is both beautiful and visceral to watch; the same stylistic impression is made by Tykwer's piece - although I adore Natalie Portman it's the visual treatment of time which really tugs on the emotions. And there's a quirky piece about the son of two mimes from Sylvain Chomet which is reminscent of Jean Pierre Jeunet. I love the giant satchel the boy carries, its a nice touch. Chomet's material was the right side of quirky; however a frankly baffling hairdresser instalment from Christopher Doyle was, I'm afraid, lost on me. It looked incredible but what the f*~k was he getting at?! Whatever, being perplexed by one piece out of 18 isn't bad and the movie was more consistent than other similar attempts, such as Jim Jarmusch's Coffee and Cigarettes, some of which I loved but somehow it still felt less consistent than this collaborative effort - despite Jarmusch being the only director involved!

Paris Je T'aime is a jigsaw piece representation of the titular city which excited, inspired and introduced me to directors I'd never heard of, and which I heartily recommend. It won't hurt tourism either - seeing the movie totally revived the feelings I experienced when I visited the city and made me crave to return. This movie is a movie for film lovers first and foremost, a movie geek's dream which might not satisfy as a whole, but does guarantee something for everyone. I understand that there's a similar project mooted about New York, and will await with eagerness whether this has the same impact.

Harvest time

OK, I know this tangent is nothing to do with what it says on the tin (i.e. movies, music and literature), but I wanted to share another gardening update with y'all. And by way of justification for this foray into the world of organic wonders: just as the arts sustain me, so do these resplendent looking vegetables. Enough with the crowbarring of metaphors I hear you say. Oh, alright. But before you go, you must admit that they're LOVELY looking! What you see before you represents my very own first crop of vegetables and I am rightly very proud - so proud the fact I will be eating potatoes for the next two months is a minor matter :-) It'll be jumpers with patches on the elbows next ...

Chortles part 2 - Knocked Up

Knocked Up is another great movie from Judd Apatow starring the gorgeous Katherine Heigl and Seth Rogen, who I view as a bit of sex symbol in a Justin Timberlake's chubbier brother kind of way. Heigl plays Alison, a high achieving new TV personality who after a one night stand with amiable stoner Ben (Rogen) finds herself preggers. Cue much debate as to the meaning of 'Just do it already' ... Anyway, the pair are poles apart but decide to keep the baby and try and make a go of it. There are many hurdles along the way, and yes, I'm sure you've worked out the ending but who cares? This movie is head and tails above the female-oriented rom coms which do the rounds, with enough Kevin Smith style gross out humour and a pinch of sentiment to keep pretty much everyone amused (and actually quite touched by the admittedly cheesy finale). As with Ben Stiller, Apatow has amassed a reliable cast of regulars with successful results, including Jonah Hill, Paul Rudd and Jason Segel, who you delight in seeing again. Even Steve Carrell  (still yummy!) makes a cameo as himself in this new hybrid genre of film making - I'm calling it a romcom/slacker mongrel. Oh yeah - and anyone of my generation will rejoice at yet another Harold Ramis (Egon Spengler!) cameo as Ben's dad. Yes, yet again I must confess to a strain of film appreciation which owes much to traditional 'boy films' and yes, I did laugh at the Delorean jokes shared by Rogen and Rudd's characters.

This movie gives a bloke's perspective on relationships and women which doesn't alienate women (an accusation which many level at Kevin Smith). It's a likeable movie with some great one liners and a cast with a natural chemistry - this proved an excellent choice to sit down and watch whilst noshing pizza and having a relaxing drink. Ben Stiller and Kevin Smith have a rival in Judd Apatow's new generation of stars and stories, and I can see why this movie received so much praise. Most people have probably already seen Knocked Up by now but just in case, this is definitely recommended and the kind of film I could revisit. And one final yes - fancying Seth Rogen has no doubt informed my view. Very funny, relaxing Friday night fare.

Chortles part 1 - A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian, by Marina Lewycka

Whilst I was away I read Marina Lewycka's first novel A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian, which was perfect travel fiction - entertaining, accessible and also serving to illuminate my understanding of the turbulent history of Eastern Europe. The narrator, Nadia (or Nadezhda) was raised with her sister Vera by their Ukrainian refugee parents in England and has had little contact with Vera for years. The pair are very different - Nadia a liberal sociologist who cut lose during her teens; Vera is seen as bitter and cynical by her sister, more conservative and calculating. As the story unfolds and they are reacquainted, we realise the reasons behind these differences are linked to their formative years - Nadia was a 'peacetime baby' whereas Vera - the 'war baby' - is old enough to have experienced the ghastly workcamps of eastern Europe and a prolonged absence from her parents as a child; a past which formed a survival of the fittest mindset and a lower opinion of human nature than Nadia's. Their different childhoods have formed their contrasting personalities and Nadia finds this out by degrees, as the estranged sisters are forced into contact when their widowed father Nikolai marries Valentina. Valentina is a busty dyed blonde Ukrainian in her thirties who is apparently on a mission to bleed their father dry as she demands Rolls Royce cars and electric ovens. As she and her son Staislav turn the house into a bombsite, Nikolai continues writing his magnum opus, a history of the tractor, oblivious to the carnage his new wife is creating. It's up to the sisters to save their father from penury and as they do, family secrets are revealed, differences explained, and Nadia and Vera reunited.

Valentina is a great comic creation but one with depth - she's not just a caricature. We cannot help but like her (as does Nadia, albeit grudgingly), this obnoxious brassy woman who has left a perfectly lovely husband in search of the wealth of the west and a 'better life' as she sees it, for herself and Stanislav. The cultural conditioning of two generations of Ukrainians is highlighted with a lightness of touch that has all the elements of farce. Whereas Nikolai's attitude isto keep your head down, get on with things and appreciate your lot, without drawing the attention of the authorities, Valentina's experiences in the Ukraine have forged a sense of entitlement to the more comfortable way of life she sees in the UK. The deftness with which Lewycka sets out the strange, discordant parallel between the couple risks being overlooked it's so subtle, and deserves to be singled out as it's a telling comment on the legacy of the past and the different struggles which Ukrainians have faced over the last 100 years.

Nikolai's experience as an escapee from Stalinist Russia is not denigrated as a result of the comic style; if anything the style celebrates the triumph of the human spirit in an unusual and sophisticated way, without leaning on cliched notions of heroism. The ending is an 'all's well that ends well' finale which could be argued as congruent with the stoicism of Nikolai and his first wife when they set up a new life in England, never ruminating on the past but surviving. And what better device to emphasise survival than humour? This book would make for a great TV/theatre adaptation; the characters are vividly described and seem very real for such a short novel. I can still see the hefty Valentina tottering  on her fluffy heeled slippers as clearly as if she were standing in front of me! The dialogue is also ripe for this kind of manipulation: there is much comedy in the broken English spoken by Valentina for instance. If you're in search of a book which gives you food for thought but minus the headache more earnest tomes can bring on, this is it.

Edinburgh

Ah, my babies it has been far too long. I promise you that my absence was not ill-spent! Work took some of us to a conference in Edinburgh at Murrayfields Stadium (where I got to sit in a corporate box for an author meeting no less!), which basically meant a few hours networking (urgh) followed by much carousing with my colleagues (Edinburgh has some excellent restuarants BTW - I recommend The Ship in Leith, which specialises in fish but rustled up some excellent venison for me). This was my first visit to the city and I am totally won over - it's really open, spacious and has an austere, slightly gloomy beauty which I loved. The skyline from Princes Street is something special; it's so perfect it looks like cut out castles have been pasted against the sky - it reminded me of something from a fairy story (one of the scary ones!). The hills and the jostling rooftops also reminded me of Montmartre if any comparison could be made at all, but really it's a unique city that doesn't seem to have been taken over by the usual commercial chains you expect. They're there for sure, but they pale into insignificance next to the impressiveness of the architecture and the landscapes. I'm gushing I know. But here's the proof:

That's the famous castle! It sits atop a tremendous rock which is an extinct volcano whose shape was formed in the ice age. The gardens all around used to be a loch until it was drained and landscaped, and you feel a million miles away from the insanely busy road just minutes away when taking a turn around them.

What really struck me was how foreboding everything looked: the landscape and the buildings seemed perfectly at one. Such a contrast to the daintiness of some English buildings in the villages around Oxford and different again to the predominantly golden, pretty colleges which formed the terrain of my student years. I will definitely be returning to the city as I felt my sightseeing, crammed in between conferences, flights and yes, drinking, was far too compacted. But for now here are a few other images which will stay with me:

This is the Walter Scott Memorial, which stopped us dead when we wandered along the streets on our first night and which one of my companions compared to the Sagrada Familia. I'm not sure about that but he might well be onto something. It definitely conjoured up the feelings of the sublime that Gaudi's work-in-progress did - I was terrified by this black silhouette against the night sky but also moved to awe. It's quite something!

I also saw a fountain in the gardens of the castle, some of which was apparently designed by the guy who worked on some of the Louvre's architecture (see below). I love this picture, its so Gormenghast!Am patting myself on the back for such superior photography - look at that light slanting through the clouds ... What's that you say - fluke? Be off with you! :-)

One more thing I must show you - Edinburgh's optical illusion which a very lovely cab driver pointed out to me (see below). The big spire you see in the centre actually belongs to another building entirely, but from where I was standing you'd never know. Cool huh?

In short I had a ball but am sad to say that I returned haggis-less. Next time!! I'll stop now but implore you to hotfoot it to Edinburgh if you haven't already been. It's gothic grandeur will not fail to impress.