Matching Curtains

Whistle Down The Wind

Whistle Down The Wind was made in 1961 and was a favourite of my parents, who were themselves children at the time. It's a movie I've inherited from them I guess, and having recently re-watched it I fell in love with it all over again. Based on a novel by Mary Hayley Bell (mother of the movie's star and child actress of the day Hayley Mills), it's the story of three children who live on a farm in Lancashire and discover a bearded man ('Angry Young Man' Du Jour Alan Bates) in their barn. In their innocence and based on a misunderstanding, they take him to be Jesus Christ, whereas in fact he's actually a fugitive on the run from the police. They determine to protect him from the adults who they fear will take him away and harm him as they read happened to Jesus in the Bible, and in order to preserve his hiding place, he goes along with it.

The story is one of childhood trust and innocence set against adult cynicism (the vicar seems more worried about the slate from the church roof than answering Kathy's questions about why people die) and is deeply moving: in the final encounter between Bates' Blakey and Mills' Kathy we sense that her actions have deeply affected him, in contrast to the the suspicion and jadedness of the adults. We don't know much about Blakey at all - he could be a monster for all we know - but in the context of the tale itself, which celebrates innocence and trust, we see through Kathy's character the value of basic human kindness. The child actors are all fantastically naturalistic - quite something when you factor in when the film was made and the typical acting style of the time! Fifteen year old Hayley Mills as Kathy gives a performance both naive and resolute, and Diane Holgate and Alan Barnes as her sister and brother are also very believable (Barnes' Charles actually reminded me of This is England's Thomas Turgoose in a roundabout sort of way). We chuckle at their exploits and genuinely care about them - it's really strange to think that the actors are now older than my parents; the film seems to have preserved them forever as they were back then. Bates is also excellent in the role of Blakey - handsome enough for us to believe in him as a leading man, but enigmatic enough for doubt to creep in about his past and puncture the episodes with the children - or 'disciples' - with a degree of suspense. Will they be safe? Will he be found? Is he guilty of murder?

Although the movie is shot through with Christian allusions, I think its story can be enjoyed whatever your faith - or lack of it - as it appeals to the basic human need to believe and trust in something or someone - whatever or whoever it is. Part of the movie's charm lies in its age - the language, the black and white footage, the very look of the thing, never mind its plot ... This is a movie which would never be made today (if only for concerns of how to eschew the suspicion of paedophilia which seems to cloud any interaction a man has with kids). Even if Whistle Down The Wind were to be remade today, I suspect in a more savvy and ironic age, it wouldn't be half as successful. 

The windy bleakness of the Lancashire landscape and the very English phrases uttered throughout also offer a tincture of Englishness which is both quaint and awash with nostalgia. If you want to escape the mania of modern living you could do a lot worse than to watch this classic movie. It might sound too twee to be true, but shake off any reservations you may have - though Mills has a long association with Disney there are no easy happy endings in this story, only perhaps more questions. However, like the title infers, sometimes a stray whistle emitted in the face of bruising winds is all you need to remind yourself of your own heart and our shared sense of humanity - something too easily forgotten in the hysteria of today's world. Here endeth the lesson. Now go ask your parents about this most restorative of films!

FAMOUS!

Yes people, I knew that one day I would make it onto a book cover ... Whilst working for a rather eminent publisher (la di-dah) I took time out to pose for this textbook cover. I'm the one in the crazy shoes and socks (all my own, however I don't wear them together in reality I promise you!).

My feet will adorn many a business students shelf. My mum will be so proud. I really should demand some royalties. And the paparazzi ... well, if they recognise my feet, who knows what could happen?! I see a whole new future opening up for me ...!

President Obama

Guess who started a new job this week?!

'Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real. They are serious and they are many. They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this, America - they will be met.

On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over fear, unity of purpose over conflict and discord.

On this day, we come to proclaim an end to the petty grievances and false promises, the recriminations and worn out dogmas, that for far too long have strangled our politics ...

For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus - and non-believers. We are shaped by every language and culture, drawn from every end of this earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of civil war and segregation, and emerged from that dark chapter stronger and more united, we cannot help but believe that the old hatreds shall someday pass; that the lines of tribe shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows smaller, our common humanity shall reveal itself; and that America must play its role in ushering in a new era of peace.'

Read the full text of President Obama's speech here.

Revolutionary Road

Notable both because it sees Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio reuniting for the first time since the blockbuster Titanic, as well as being the first movie in which Winslet is directed by husband Sam Mendes (American Beauty, Road to Perdition), Revolutionary Road is the story of April (Winslet) and Frank (DiCaprio), an idealistic young couple who find themselves become strangers to each other as their lives play out on Revolutionary Road, the archetypal bland suburbia of Einsenhower's 1950s America. Saddled with two young children, the Wheelers see an 'emptiness and hopelessness' in the conformist, uneventful lives they have fallen into and despair at their splintering dreams. April, who harboured dreams of acting, is forced to make do with performing in pitiful local productions; Frank, who has never really discovered what he wanted to do, is riddled with conflict at being stifled physically and creatively in an office cubicle, working at the same sales firm where his father was employed for 30 years (this without the boss having any memory of him), but somehow increasingly attracted to the financial security it affords. The pair become so disenchanted they decide to emigrate to Paris, to discover themselves and live away from the mundanity of the US suburbs. When April falls pregnant again, their plans unravel and their previous antagonism towards each other escalates rapidly. Both embark on affairs and one night stands with people they don't care for, and fire barrages of poisonous verbal abuse at each other as they try to work out how their lives panned out the way they did.

This is the story of a marriage dissolving; each fail to realise the expectations the other places in them but the time and society they inhabit doesn't seem to offer them a way out of their misery. We only have to look at Kathy Bates' Mrs Givings and her husband to see what the future might hold for the couple. There is nothing new in this indictment of the 'American Dream'; it could easily tell the story of American Beauty's Lester Burnham's parents and there's a certain degree of inevitability to the plot. However as the story reaches its tragic finale, there is much for the audience to marvel at. The anti-romance is performed savagely by Winslet and DiCaprio, whose talents were somewhat wasted in the saccharine and overblown Titanic - you can't help but wonder if they relished going at it hammer and tongs if only to put paid to the memory of their previous sentimental pairing. Where Titanic was huge and sprawling, Revolutionary Road is full of the claustrophobia of too tidy living rooms and identical front lawns, with neighbours and friends constantly impinging on the couple's need for emotional space. Winslet and DiCaprio express this feeling of entrapment very well, and DiCaprio is especially good as a man lacking the insight to make sense of his actions. At first it's hard to overlook the boyishness which still dogs him as an actor, but he soon manages to make you forget that with a mature performance full of frustration and confusion - Frank hasn't totally given up on another way of living, but has opted for pragmatism and security, demonstrated in a performance which is loaded with unconscious self-loathing. 

DiCaprio's performance is notable not only for this, but also because it is so very generous to Winslet, allowing her to mine issues of feminism, motherhood and depression enough to step out from the mahogany furnishings and into the centre of the camera time and time again. We know she's won awards for this role so the hype machine is well underway for the Oscars, and I doubt anything I say will alter things! But anyway, Winslet is well, Winslet - she was made for April's '50s wardrobe and she imbues her character with a sparkiness and zest which makes up for April being, well, a bit of a bitch to Frank at the start. You can excuse her frustration in some way fuelling her nastiness to him just as you can his trite excuses for his infidelity - both are deeply unhappy. However, it has to be said: the pair are not the most likeable of characters and the theatrical style Winslet has often serves to distance you from proceedings, meaning that the ending's impact is less tragic than intended to be. She was much better in Little Children, in my humble opinion. There's something a bit 'stagey' about the direction too. Although Mendes' lush style of film-making is beautiful (check out the rail station scenes for a lesson in how to direct crowds with symbolism and grace), its flawless costumes and lighting contribute to the sense of an idea of tragedy rather than a full blown feeling, which is why I couldn't bring myself to completely empathise with the characters and have a good cry at the end.

What would have been interesting was to see more of their neighbours - perhaps a sequel could deal with the fall out from their own involvement in the Wheeler's lives, especially that of David Harbour's Shep ...? But that's for another time. For all its predictability and polish, the Wheelers story still resonates with me. Economically, we live in a much more turbulent time than Frank and April, with fears of selling out still haunting many of my generation as we see ideals give way to harsh realities and the consumer items we are told we must have being chased. We cling to the often monotonous jobs we do to attain such goals, just as Frank does, to the detriment of what we once held dear. The story of Frank and April is a warning to us all about the roads our choices can take us down and how very far from revolutionary those choices can be. As a look at a young relationship turned sour there's also a lot to make you think, about how you perceive a future with someone and how 'true' that belief really is - and what that can do to your partner. I suspect that reading the novel this movie is based on will prove an equally thought-provoking experience and intend on getting hold of a copy as soon as I can.

The Valley of the Dolls - Jacqueline Susann

Jacqueline Susann's Valley of the Dolls is the mother of trashy, blockbuster fiction for women, setting the bar for successors including Jackie Collins and thelike. Set predominantly in New York City, the book charts the lives of three women from post-war America through to the early sixties. Anne, the closest thing the book has to a central character, is a WASP-ish type who escapes a stultifying blue blood family and small town for excitement and love in New York (now where else have we heard that? Candace Bushnell must surely have read this book as a teenager, savouring its illicit thrills); Neely a former vaudeville star whose meteoric rise to Hollywood fame unleashes untold demons; and the tragic Jennifer is a buxom, beautiful model and actress with a childlike charm whose glamour leads many to overlook her intelligence and kind nature. Straight away you're probably envisioning the likes of Grace Kelly, Judy Garland and Marilyn Monroe, and you're onto something, as the book is based on Susann's own experiences of Broadway and Hollywood: many of the characters are evidently thinly veiled substitutes for big names from Hollywood's golden era. In some cases, perhaps not so thinly veiled ... the self destructive Neely shares many similarities with Judy Garland which can't just be coincidence - they both start in vaudeville, become notorious divas and are addictive personalities, and even attempt suicide in the same way. You could read the whole book and try to match even peripheral characters to their real life celebrity counterparts.

There's nothing deep about this book and it's a fairly predictable, cliched read - perhaps because Susann's success has been emulated many times over - but it's still interesting as a snapshot of the times it documents and the position women then held within the entertainment industry (and beyond). The way women are judged on their appearance is still true today, with the size zero craze more overtly flagged in the likes of Heat than in the tucked away boardrooms of the movie executives Susann describes. The contrast between the male fat cats who head the studios and women like Neely and Jennifer is about as subtle as a sledgehammer, but that's the entire point. The women are dolls to these men, to be played with and considered commodities for as long as their looks remain, their weight is down, and they do as they are told by the cigar chewing old men who pull the strings in Hollywood. It is this very existence that leads all three, including the prissy (and let's face it, insipid) Anne, into using 'dolls' - US slang for uppers and downers which allow them to do their jobs and cope with the hedonism and mania that their glamorous lives involve.

And is this book ever dripping with glamour. It's racey and packed with sex, swearing and all manner of scandal - completely over the top. It's clear to see why it made such an impact at the time (it published in 1966) and in today's celebrity obsessed world it still seems relevant - if a bit dated. As we follow the girls we see broadway fame give way to the movies and the movies to TV, with each experiencing their own personal and professional ups and downs at the hands of fickle fame. Neely's constant comebacks reminded me of a certain Ms Spears, also lambasted in the press for being at various times, disastrous in performance, fat(!), and a bad mother. And so the circus continues into another century as we all watch on, seduced by both the glitter and the car crashes. That's what makes this book such a compelling read - Susann captured the cult of celebrity before such phrases had even been created. Valley of the Dolls is a book today's celebrities would do well to read - studio tyranny may be less prevalent in Hollywood itself, but the the transitory nature of fame pervades our culture: also rans and coulda beens desperately cling to their 15 minutes of fame in the many reality TV shows beamed into living rooms across the world, confessions of breakdowns are commonplace and seized upon by the media, and women are still scrutinised for signs of aging and flaws. Only the other day I read that Meryl Streep, not just a beauty both then and now but an incredibly talented actress, admitted that ageism still prevails in Hollywood!

This book is no masterpiece (plus there were loads of typos the publisher in me spotted!) and certainly won't tax you. It's not even especially well written, with the plot propelling characters forward before they've had any time to develop. However, it provides oodles of debauchery and glitz and gives an insight into an era before just anyone could be famous - in short, it's unsnobbish good fun. Susann's dialogue heavy text was made for the screen and I am now desperate to see the movie adaptation as I can't help but think this was what Susann had in mind as she wrote it.

Confession time (subtitled: I heart Kevin Costner)

One of the movies I would watch over and over as a kid was Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. I know, it was shockingly inaccurate - you only have to read the Guardian article linked here to appreciate that. But I lapped it up, Bryan Adams theme (whisper) and all. Along with Bill Murray as Peter Venkman in Ghostbusters (another childhood favourite) and Steve Martin in pretty much anything pre-Cheaper By The Dozen, Kevin Costner represented one of my first movie heartthrobs. I'm not sure how cool that is or even how, well, normal, but there you are. It's more interesting than trotting out the Keanus or Leos (how he must have hated that moniker) of this world I suppose. I'd like to think my affection for Costner grew out of the character he was playing rather than his mullet - I love all the different myths that have sprung up around Robin Hood and the evil Sheriff of Nottingham - but I was but a child, so who knows?

Anyway, the aforementioned Guardian article just got me thinking about things you like regardless of taste or even just common decency. Like Burger King. I actually grew rather worried when I heard that Ridley Scott was making a 'revisionist' Robin Hood movie with Russell Crowe and Sienna Miller (apparently now dropped from the project because her slenderness was showing up Crowe's newly, erm, corpulent physique). How could they when there was such a classic movie already made about this most philanthropic of thieves?! No people, not Men in Tights. 

What movies do you like despite yourself? Go on. Name and shame em!

Minor guilt and lobster bibs

I really did mean to go to the dance class last night. Honestly. But somehow or other we ended up in the pub, bottle of wine clutched to our breasts, finding reasons why it just wasn't feasible for us to exercise today.

Guilt and sore head aside, this morning has been a rather nice one. Maybe because I have a book launch and thus free wine (yes, more wine - so much for a dry January) tonight. Maybe because it's my last Tuesday in the Office of Doom (or OD as I affectionally call it - it would bring you close). Or maybe it has something to do with the witticisms of Mr Woody Allen. I read his on-set 'diary' from Vicky Cristina Barcelona in The Guardian today. Man it was funny. I especially liked the following quote, about him and Gaudi: ' We both defy convention, he with his breathtaking designs and me by wearing a lobster bib in the shower.'

Alela Diane - The Pirate's Gospel

Alela Diane's album The Pirate's Gospel sounds, not unsurprisingly, evocative of an age long passed away. Like it's sepia-infused cover art, featuring an image of Alela herself and designed as if the picture were an early photograph unearthed from some ancient prairie dwelling, this album is both simple and traditional. Yes, it's folk, stripped down and with surprisingly little accompaniment, but it's wierd and intriguing and very far removed from the crusty, male-dominated image that many people have of the genre.

It's no surprise that Alela should be mates with Joanna Newsom, as their songwriting shares a bucolic, fairy tale strangeness which sets them apart from many of their peers. However Alela differs from Newsom in many respects - her songs are often tinged with an ominous darkness and her voice has a more gutteral, less fey quality. Single 'The Rifle' encapsulates this darkness, transmitted more through Alela's voice than the song's lyrics, which have an elusiveness which wriggles away from immediate translation. 'Pigeon Song', by contrast, is rather more more childlike and it's meaning more obvious. My favourite song has to be the title track, which includes a chorus of Yo ho ho-ing that is impossible not to sing along to.

It's difficult not to compare Alela to Newsom - if only to illustrate how the pair differ and in order to react to the comparisons so routinely trotted out (myself included, I admit!). Newsom's voice is often described by non-fans as something they cannot overcome, whereas, as I say, Alela's voice is rather different in character. However, its timbre still won't be for everyone; there are moments on this album which grated even for a fan like myself. There's an abrasiveness to her vocals which every so often failed to hit my musical g-spot, probably because the musical arrangements are rather stark and on occasion need a softer vocal to give them warmth and strike a more emotional chord. There's still a great deal to excite music lovers in this album though. Given that this LP is essentially a girl and her acoustic guitar, there is something very impressive about its ability to hold the listener and captivate them as much as it does. The Pirate's Gospel offers something unique and interesting in spite of its naked sound which, even if you don't like all of it, still makes you stop and take notice. Recommended musical fare for a frosty January afternoon.

Yes Pecan!

Ben & Jerry's have always been my favourite purveyors of the cold sweet stuff. And now I know I am right in my thinking: they've produced an Obama-inspired ice cream called, yes, you guessed it: Yes, Pecan!

Briliant.

Into My Arms - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

Another opportunity to inflict favourites from my record collection upon you. This is quite possibly one of the best songs about love EVER written. Fact. Those pauses ...