Showing posts with label reviews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reviews. Show all posts

Friday, 10 January 2014

The Railway Man

What a way to kick off my commitment to visit the cinema once a month this year with my delightful Mr Doris by going to an afternoon showing of a film on the very day of its release in the UK! I am not sure I have ever seen a film on its first day and am doubly delighted to find that by going to the afternoon showing it cost £6 per person rather than the £9 price tag of a cinema seat.

We have never been to this particular cinema which is an independent not too far away, with a very pleasant cafe although the coffee was a bit acrid. I had a bit of a sniffly nose that needed relieving (this is going to be relevant) and my darling went over to the stand and fetched me more than a few soft black napkins. I only needed one, then I used two more to dry my hands in the bathroom leaving me one that became very vital.

The screen size was more than decent as some cinemas have screens that feel like a slightly larger TV screen! We had a great view with no heads in front to interrupt our viewing pleasure.

The word "pleasure" is not one to associate with The Railway Man inasmuch as the storyline is based on a true story and deals with the really difficult subject of war and torture; its aftermath and latterly revenge, apologies and conciliation. I find gratuitous violence appalling and have walked away from a movie in the past rather than watch it but in this case the violence was relevant. It was brutal and I cried a lot during this movie. Interestingly I felt it was OK and not in the least bit sissy to be affected because this was about real events and viewers are meant to be affected.

In watching the film the only thing that really bugged me was how the central characters Eric Lomax played by Colin Firth, and the torturer Takashi Nagase looked only in their forties in the early 1980s when in my mind they would have been about 20 in 1942 and therefore should be at least in their 60s. Apart from that I wondered, like any film based on a real life story, how it was romanticised and in watching it I wondered what was true and what wasn't. Afterwards a bit of a read online reveals that Eric himself left his first wife and family out of his own autobiography! There is a very interesting article in the Guardian "The Railway Man's forgotten family: 'We were victims of torture too'" which brings me to the subject of the after effects of war not just directly on those involved but on descendants long after the event. This is not to compare or negate those war time experiences but equally the effects on descendants should not be dismissed either. I wrote a little on Remembrance which then links to another item I also wrote.

Our family lived in Singapore in 1966 which was just 24 years after the Japanese took over. I had never realised that nor the significance of Changi. I have just looked up our address and it was less than 25 minutes drive from Changi prison, but then again Singapore is a small island and everywhere is only a short distance. The war events in the film mainly take place in Thailand. Which leads me to another point in the film - the locations. The film starts off in the North West of England on trains of the early 1980s. I remember those old slam door carriages which all looked about right but I am not sure that they actually used Crewe Station as I have known that station for at least 20 years. As the train travelled along I am also not sure I felt that was actually England being shown or at least it was a not very good painting of a backdrop. There were scenes in Thailand with the mountains in the background and they too did not look real. I hate to be nit picky but some things are simple to get right.

Coming back to the film there is a point near the end when there is an apology. My tears flowed for the storyline and also for myself. For those events in my life where I have had an apology and been able to move on and those events where an apology never happened and can now never be. It just goes to show how far acknowledgement and apology can go in this world. A lesson we should all hold close.

Thank goodness for the extra long and sedate credits which enabled more than a few of us to compose ourselves and look a little less distressed. I am not sure what the next lot of cinema goers thought of us filing out all sombre.

I am glad I saw this film although it was incredibly upsetting.

Thursday, 12 December 2013

Lorde "Royals" vs. Icona Pop "I love it"

Just recently I have discovered Lorde, a sixteen year old singer songwriter from New Zealand. Royals has a deep pulsating beat and lyrics that celebrate individuality and bucking trends. Lorde has a beautiful clear voice. Oh joy. Then there is the video which is, I think, a work of art. Picturing very ordinary spotty lads doing what lads do. Nothing glamorous or glitzy. My car speakers go up very loud when I play it. The rest of Lorde's album is also very good and I reckon there will be more tracks released in due course.

I am not sure how long Icona Pop's "I love it (I don't care)" has played as I have been aware of the refrain "I don't care" sung in a very poppy dance style which appealed to some part of me. That is, until the other day driving when it came on the radio and I heard each of the lyrics, not that there are many. Of course I shouldn't take it so seriously but I do. Dark lyrics that talk of crashing one's car into a bridge and being up in the milky way and then the flippant "I don't care, I love it". Suddenly I have a huge problem with the vibe of this song. It has a great dance beat but the lyrics say nothing positive and if anything it is ok to be reckless with one's life. 

Sunday, 8 December 2013

Meerkat Collective

Oooh Rashbre has Maiya  (who travelled a circuitous route) and she looks rather hot in her skin tight secret agent outfit. Even her Nana Mouskouri glasses rock. (I just checked the spelling of Nana's last name and am astounded I spelt it right first time!)

Anyway, I thought I ought to take a pic of my chappie. He is Alexandr Orlov and he even has his own Wikipedia page. Mine is still in his box and we have had him quite some time which leads me to wonder if anyone ever takes their meerkats out of the boxes. My Alexandr has travelled from the his usual place to by the Christmas tree for this pic. His fur is a little warmer than the flash allows. I just looked up Ebay and see them selling on there from a few pounds to nearly fifty pounds.

I wonder if we renew our insurance with the same people if we will get another Meerkat toy? Hmm.

Sunday, 24 November 2013

The Five(ish) Doctors Reboot: Inspired

Yesterday's date had been in our calender since it was first released as the showing of the 50th anniversary episode and in the end our day was scheduled around a feast of TV.

A special roast dinner was made to be ready by 6.30pm and the start of Strictly. Followed hot on its heels by the Dr Who 50th special episode. Just last week I saw that the return of Borgen was being advertised so I had that in mind for 9pm after Dr Who. Borgen is an incredible and amazing series I discovered from my dear friend who passed away early in the year. As we watched together the last triumphant twist and turn of that last episode of the last series she had turned to me and wryly joked that one thing was for sure and that she would not be around for the next series. I suppose it is the sort of joke I would make but is not very funny when one is not the one making the joke.

The evening began with the roast not being quite cooked enough in places. A signifier of the evening ahead I wondered.

Strictly was good enough though nothing particularly special as it is the last few weeks and the judges are suddenly much more critical. We sneaked a preview of who actually gets the boot by the end of the evening and lets say I was very surprised given the two up, or rather, down in the bottom two in the dance off. Tonight's show will be interesting.

The Dr Who special was sort of good. Expectations are so flaming high that making something that celebrated 50 years of what is very much a cult was always going to be difficult. There were some very good points. Overall I gave it a six out of ten which was exceptionally harsh of me.

So there we were, mixed review roast followed by two less than top notch programmes let me onto Borgen for which the other programming had overrun and Borgen had already started. In at the deep end with subtitles flashing away. My poor Mr Doris who had never seen any of the previous would have been isolated as to where we were and who we were dealing with. Though never mind him, I felt thrown in the deep end and I love the programme. Then I checked the programme info and I find it was actually the third episode of the new series. The third!!! What happened to the previous two? Even I need to catch those two before I can proceed.

Within minutes I flicked Borgen off and to the Dr Who after show party and the inane and repetitive "Did you enjoy that" questions which even one of the presenters commented that no-one could hardly say that they didn't. It is the sort of programming that might have been a good idea on paper and is sadly lacking. There was mention of an alternative 50th anniversary Dr Who programme which could be seen on the red button after the after show party. That mythical and rarely pressed red button except for watching alternative sports during the Olympics or taking part in the "guess the antiques price" in Antiques Roadshow.

Oh beautiful red button you saved our day! Peter Davison I never knew how much I love you! The Five(ish) Doctors Reboot is quite possibly the most brilliant and funniest and best celebration of the 50th anniversary. Typical self-deprecation and use of real family members takes Dr Who to a whole new level. What a delight it was to watch with so many references to all things Dr Who and involving a whole raft of the significant characters both behind the scenes and in front of the camera as well as a wealth of others. I do not want to say much more as it might be to spoil other's viewing pleasure. This is the gem of our Saturday night and the jewel of the 50th anniversary of Dr Who.

BBC iplayer usually only available in the UK and only for seven days

Addendum:
I have just had a delightful time re-watching the Reboot film and even freeze framed the credits and looked up who was who online! One thing led to another which led to discovering these creative and wonderful three minute vignettes created by a New York Doctor Who fan. The Adventures of the Doctor Puppet are worth watching all the way through the episodes and also the Christmas Special: How the Doctor Puppet Saved Christmas; and the music video tribute. I so look forward to the next episode. 10.46am 24 November

Saturday, 6 April 2013

Precariat

According to a BBC article that is being read like the gospel, the UK now has seven classes. As in "Class". So of course one takes the handy online calculator because we all like a good online quiz. The end results are baffling on two fronts. One is that my husband and I are both scored as "Precariats" which is defined as: "This is the most deprived class of all with low levels of economic, cultural and social capital. The everyday lives of members of this class are precarious." And the other is, according to this "quiz", where is the financial depression swamping this country? Either there is wealth involved (income and savings) or people are taking part in activities that require money. Playing computer games apparently scores you more points - so who owns the computer or pays for the electricity supply to enable that? Going to the gym scores you more points - who pays for the gym membership?

What sort of quiz can give one the label of "Elite: This is the most privileged class in Great Britain who have high levels of all three capitals. Their high amount of economic capital sets them apart from everyone else." when you put in the highest income, house value and savings and yet score nothing for social and cultural capital. 

The old class system is antiquated and wrong and I reckon any new classification system is inherently wrong too. Leave me out of it.

Saturday, 17 March 2012

Are we creating a monster with Kony 2012?

When I first watched the Kony 2012 video I noticed it was 30 minutes long and had to switch it off for another time though watched it long enough to hear the interesting snippet stating that there were more people on Facebook than there were alive across the world two hundred years ago. Food for thought.

This morning, when I could have laid in bed a bit longer except the postie woke us on the doorbell, I watched Kony 2012 and was captured. It is slick, well produced from a visual and audio point of view and well, simplistic. It is made by a US Non Governmental Organisation Invisible Children and has a call to action to sign the petition to the US government; share the video and amongst other activities to "Cover the night" on April 20th - again aimed at across the US. It is compelling and I felt like I wanted to do my bit, to share and to spread the word. My finger hovered over the Facebook button and the desire to share, but I also wanted to know more.

Previously I had heard about the African child soldiers but hadn't really absorbed it. The Kony 2012 video made me look a bit further. Back in the 1990s I remember the genocides in Eastern Europe and how I had misguidedly thought we couldn't possibly have another genocide in this world, that we wouldn't let it happen, and then news was coming out - it looked like a genocide, it sounded like a genocide but at first it wasn't called a genocide. And I did nothing. All my public outrage did nothing constructive and then after the event it is called a genocide and we had let it happen.

What could we do when faced with this news? All comfortable and cosy to some extent in our lives. The Kony 2012 video has a very interesting inverted triangle logo and explains how traditionally we have money and power at the top pointy area of the triangle but that with the power of the masses at the widest part of the triangle the balance of power could be shifted. How we can make a difference by being aware and making a noise. This is, I think, a very powerful message to us all. And I one I think, despite the critics of the Kony 2012 video, we would do well to remember.

In my search to find out a bit more, such that one can from our ability to hit a few buttons on a search engine and to eat whatever one is served up, I find some useful critiques. WarChild has a response which suggests the video is about five years too late and that much has already been done. It compliments the makers of Kony 2012 for bringing this issue to the masses in such a short period of time, and in a way is sorry they were not able to do that in all the years they have been going. They reiterate this is still ongoing though and much still needs to be done especially in helping with the rehabilitation of those involved.

National Geographic has a post from a writer View from North Uganda which refers to a former child soldier Anywar Ricky who is now a director of a local Ugandan organisation Friends of Orphans. Mr Ricky says that he is concerned that the work of the Ugandan government, it's own local organisations and Peace Talks in 2006 are sidelined in the Kony 2012 video and that much good has already been done. After all, Kony is said to already be out of Uganda and operating in nearby countries instead!  This article also recognises the good the Kony 2012 video brings by focusing on the issues but asks that the focus is on building a better Uganda.

The Independent blogs has one from Musa Okwonga titled, Stop Kony, yes, But don't stop asking questions  in which he talks about the irrelevance of this campaign to a country where Kony is already gone. He talks about the simplicity of the Kony 2012 video and asks us to question the role of others such as the President Museveni who has been in power as long as Kony has been in action. After all, if our Prime Minister Cameron had this sort of atrocity going on during his watch he would not still be in power over twenty years later.

Some Christian writers have criticised the Kony 2012 video saying that it is not for us to seek revenge and that retribution is in the hands of the Lord. Ultimately, maybe so, but should we turn a blind eye in the mean time. Reminds me of the "joke" regarding a flood and a person climbing on the roof of their house and when a boat comes along to save them refuses to get on board saying my Lord will save me and then another vehicle comes to help and is refused on the same basis and then finally a helicopter is also refused in favour of the belief that his Lord will save him. The guy is drowned and up in heaven asks his Lord why he wasn't saved and the Lord says I sent you two boats and a helicopter, what more did you want? But I digress.

Finally Al Jazeera has an article by Adam Branch: Dangerous ignorance: The hysteria of Kony 2012 which raises the most worrying concerns that the Kony 2012 video is encouraging the go-ahead for US military involvement in Uganda at a time when oil has been recently found. That possibly the Invisible Children organisation is a pawn in a power game which has nothing to do with protecting the children and everything to do with money and power. A short quote from this article:
In terms of activism, the first step is to re-think the question: Instead of asking how the US can intervene in order to solve Africa's conflicts, we need to ask what we are already doing to cause those conflicts in the first place. How are we, as consumers, contributing to land grabbing and to the wars ravaging this region? How are we, as US citizens, allowing our government to militarise Africa in the name of the "War on Terror" and its effort to secure oil resources?
Overall in the number of articles and comments I have read, has come across an indignation against the US and its so-called militant kids and that by their simplistic actions they are demonstrating a white supremacy over a black nation. To some extent, one can see that the Kony 2012 video might be a creating a monster in its supporters blindly listening to just that viewpoint and thinking they know best and working in a way that does not provide real help. Or will it?

Coming back to the Kony 2012 video I am very curious about the world we live in and the way we choose the easy option of turning a blind eye, or else simplistic answers such as doing a "Facebook share", or signing an online petition. Mass action is important, and yes, it certainly feels good to know one has taken part in a mass action. Others can look at it and say it is superficial and self-serving, and to some extent it may well be that. Still, we surely have to do something don't we? Some people will not watch the Kony 2012 video; will not watch the news; and will not try to find out more about anything. I think whatever we do, we should always question it.

Saturday, 31 December 2011

Happy New Year

Roll on 2012!

It's going to be a hot summer in the UK!

The London Olympics will be fabulous with the UK winning its most ever medals and the country will not end up bankrupt as a result!

The Queen will have her Diamond Jubilee and there will be a lot of partying and having fun amongst the peasants!

There will be a cultural resurgence of some sort, through art or dance or music, and fashion which will see us lifting our sights and pulling us out of the current depression!

My business will take off and by the end of 2012 we will have a good income, some savings and our debts paid off. Our health will be good and we will be very happy. My 22 year old will find a new direction in life that she is very happy with and my soon to be 18 year old will land a wonderful job that will lead to better things for him.

May 2012 bring you and yours happiness and health and prosperity.

Monday, 28 November 2011

Sudden Suicide

Assuming it was suicide..... assuming it was depression ....


When a (now) high profile person commits suicide it will make society look up and consider depression and suicide and I'm hoping that out of the death of Gary Speed (football manager for Wales) that there is greater discussion and acknowledgement of mental health issues.

I think when you have someone who can be seen talking live on TV less than 24 hours before he was found dead, it brings it home:



If depression was at the heart of it I can relate to the way he can look so relatively normal and participate and yet have such huge turmoil going on inside. I can not say anything about this particular case as I do not know the man or his circumstances but I do hope that something really helpful and positive for the world can come from his sudden death.

Mental health should be as central to our lives and as easy to talk about as our physical health and whether we have a cold or sniffle. In reality, to talk about feeling down or out of sorts, or to feel like one is failing or feeling like one is a fraud or undeserving can lead to jeopardising your position. Or to back slapping encouragement that really you are OK and to pull yourself together when in fact you feel like a fragile glass ornament perched precariously on the edge of a steep precipice with wild winds whipping up all round and no shelter or comfort. Terrified, desperate and alone.

Ultimately, a person who commits suicide takes that action and it is their responsibility, but society as a whole needs to take a collective responsibility and to look at what it is that we do, say or expect that binds all of us.

Wednesday, 15 December 2010

Crucifying Carols

There is a charming medieval-rebuilt-in-the-1800s parish church in the centre of our town. A setting fit for wonderful marriages, festive Thanksgivings, and the annual Christmas concert from one of the town's secondary schools. But not the school traditionally known for its musical excellence and as such we were treated to an ear bleeding array of concert pieces, bands and choirs. Some of it was alright but most was definitely not. And I am not even a music snob and will applaud a brick wall if it was trying to make an effort. I'd go again next year in order to support and encourage but I think I might gird my loins with a snifter of something a bit strong.

Tuesday, 7 December 2010

Youtube

I so love youtube! But then, I suppose I am attributing the good to the mode rather than to the hands of the users/producers. Just like we blame guns or porn rather than the people behind them but heyho that is another matter. Yesterday I could have been off massacring my local populace but instead I had a most productive time watching youtubes on threading and eyebrow definition. Who'd have thought it wasn't rocket science to pick up threading but indeed it does take skill and experience to learn to get it brilliant. Nevertheless, together with my existing beauty skills and increasing confidence (did I really cut my eyebrow hairs that much and they really look good still?!) I have a pretty good rendition of what is fast becoming known as HD brows. They are darker, more shapely and cleanly defined. I know that I have more work to do on them but I am pretty impressed. And the threading really helped with cleaning up around the brows in a way that waxing doesn't always manage. Who'd have thought all you needed was a little bit of thread from a sewing reel to do all that magic.

I know someone at college who has the most naturally amazing eyelashes and eyebrows which apparently have been assisted by a product in the region of over £40 to help them grow. Youtube advice from a number of sources suggest the nightly use of castor oil on said hairs. £1.40 from the chemist and I have begun to road test that tip.

It was a good job I decided to go out earlier in the car to do some college work with a friend only to discover the car battery is as flat as a pancake. The charger is on and fingers crossed we have a working car tomorrow morning. So instead of going out I am on Youtube picking and choosing my way through some more excellent make up videos. Some of it is rubbish but some is excellent. Thank you wonderful people who produce them.

Friday, 4 December 2009

The price of water in the UK

Just a quickie really ..... we pay more for our water each month than we do for gas and electricity combined! That surely can not be right? We pay standing charges for water in and standing charges for water out plus surface water/highway drainage which amount to £10 per month before we add on water charges in and 100% of that same water charged going out.

Having done all the calculations, and hearing from the water company themselves based on meter readings, we are average water users for the number of people living here, or rather slightly under average. Uswitch also have a calculator and according to them we are average too. Having been brought up in a hot country I have always been just that bit careful with water and never leave it running whilst brushing teeth and that sort of thing and that is how the kids were brought up. So I don't see how we are average as I rarely get a bath these days - maybe once a month if that. And being fairly sedentary I don't shower every day whilst teenage son is adverse to the effort.

When I told the water company that we worked at home the person said well that would be it then: you would be using more. I said we only make cups of tea and in any case we are using more electricity and yet the combined gas and electricity is less than water. The toilet is supposed to be dual flush but is rubbish as there is water coming out but it sometimes won't even flush regular toilet paper. A half bucket of water is more effective. So maybe there is a problem there that can be fixed.

At the moment we are mid way in our first two hour experiment of checking what leaks or anything may be happening by reading the meter and not using any water for two hours and re-checking figures.

Our last house was not on a meter and had 5 bedrooms, two bathrooms and back yard yet the annual bill was less than our very careful water usage in our two bedroomed apartment with no outside area. It baffles me as well as being so expensive.

Sunday, 15 November 2009

Tree of life

It is the middle of November and I have put up our Christmas tree! I wouldn't have put it up quite so soon except I bumped into our lovely neighbour yesterday as I was on my way out and she was busy putting up her Christmas wreath on the front door and delightedly showed me inside to see the full compliment of her Christmas decorations and tree that she had put up. On account of being a bit bored she said! I was reminiscing about my younger days before kids when I would enjoy putting up decorations and leaving them up year round because they made me smile.

We don't have the full scale thing yet, but I have changed the dining table round to change the dynamics of meal times, and installed our stylish lit twigs adorned with tiny baubles and glass snowflakes. The latter I had stored from Christmases past but otherwise we have had to start again in our new home. A world of new possibilities.

The latest episode of Dr Who, "The Waters of Mars" has kept us glued to the sofa this evening. With the strong and powerful Adelaide Brooke knowing the difference between right and wrong as the Dr begins to fall off his perch. I shall be very sad to see David Tenant go, but then I was mortified at the idea of Christopher Middleton leaving the role of the Dr and didn't think anyone could replace him, but he was ably followed. Roll forward Christmas for the next episodes of Dr Who :-)

Thursday, 31 July 2008

Anger, not fear

A book has come my way from "The Adult Children of Alcoholics Series". Entitled "The Self-Sabotage Syndrome: Adult Children in the Workplace". My parents are not apparently alcoholics, though at times they have not behaved well with alcohol but ACoCs is a term that can be used for anyone who has grown up in a dysfunctional family.

As an aside, I wonder how many people it takes for a family to become dysfunctional? Is just one mad parent enough and then everyone else runs around them? Or are we all within the family dysfunctional in our own sweet ways?

The term "adult children" speaks to me. Just by itself. And then the book begins with ascertaining that because of their upbringing ACoCs have no sense of what is "normal" saying "Adult Children of Alcoholics Guess at What Normal Is". Oh yes, that so resonates. That feeling of being always out on a limb and never being sure, of always feeling that I was making things up, of making up my own definitions to anything and everything. Which means that at any moment everything can come crashing down. Because I just made it up. Because I'm a fraud and I'm going to be caught out.

There is an aspect about ACoCs that I've read so far that I don't identify with and that is concerning my relationships and friendships. In fact just this month I have been realising that my friendships are one area of my life in which I am blessed and function really well. I'd don't feel all the pain and angst that I feel in other areas of my life and I wonder why that it is. Why, when my parents have not set any good examples of friendships in my childhood or since.

Laying in bed this morning thinking about this, with my constant self-analysis: stepping stones that tangle across my mind sometimes leaving me marooned in scary waters with no clear way across; I had a eureka moment. As a child we moved house and location about every two years. I never had good friendships as a kid so the moving actually became quite useful. I may not have had to face up to difficult situations in the long term, on the other hand I had plenty of experience of starting again. I actually welcomed the chance to start again and each time we moved, and being a kid, relationships were my priority. And I had plenty of chances to experiment. They were never right and I took a lot of hard knocks. I learned not to expect anything from anyone which was probably mainly due to my relationship with my parents, but reinforced by childhood relationships. I'm not sure what good things I learned from those times but I think I had the chance to find out what didn't work.

Since the age of seven I had the companionship and love of my little sister. This can not be under-estimated. I "had" to love her and protect her from the madness that was my mother. I became a mini-parent but more than that I was able to love her and she let me. Physical affection came from her, even if it was me holding her hand. When it came to me choosing between life or something else at 16 I had to walk away and leave her. Without saying a word. That was incredibly painful but she was already on her own destiny pathway and I knew she would make it. And she did. And we are very close now, but I think I still don't know the half of what she went through which makes me feel a little sad and selfish.

So when I left home at sixteen for the world of work I became the perfect ACoC employee and was easily exploited. But I was wide-eyed and enthralled by adult people. I loved meeting people and listening to them. I still am that wide-eyed girl and embrace people and situations in that way. I suppose luck comes into play that some beautiful people came into my life at different times throughout my life. I have had some friends come and go and I am still able to move on from places and leave people behind which does sound rather harsh and cold-hearted. But a core of people remain very special. A growing core even.

Boundaries in my friendships might have been a problem but I sorted that one pretty early by, on the one hand being able to love and be truly interested in other people and on the other to keep a tight reign on myself and not actually truly say too much about me. It wasn't until I was 31 years old that I told one of my girlfriends about some of my more difficult memories and then years go by and I only let out little tiny snippets. And then with my darling Mr Doris, one of my dearest friends, early on in our relationship I gave him something to read that I had written about me. Because I wanted him to know about the deep and dark depths I have. I didn't want to con him or for him to be shocked by someone different one day "when I might leak out". And then into my life comes someone who I had known of for years but suddenly we click and become immense friends and I find myself sharing depths. And then I get to my blogging years and I am haemorraghing all over the blog but in a way that has been constructive to me and now another friend is drawing depths out of me too that I didn't know I could share and I find I am changing.

Always a work in progress, for the first time in a very long time I feel like I am making progress. And this brings me to my anger. With the current financial situation in this world, life has dealt some interesting cards. Such that it seems likely when we sell our house, it won't be at a loss but there will not be much in the way of a profit. We will go into private rented and will start again with a clean slate. No debts. Just going forward and reconstruct. And in my self-analysis this morning I realised I am not scared of starting again. Picking myself and starting again is second nature to me. What I recognise is that I am so flaming angry about having to start again. My anger is such that it seethes underneath and leaks out in all the wrong places at the wrong times to the wrong people. Usually my kids but mainly directed back at me and internalised. I can feel it like a pit of badness inside me that I know has to stop or I'll be thoroughly ill.

Part of the ACoA thing is anger and anger issues. They flip out at the wrong time and inappropriately. I said that already but this is what the book says. I've never been allowed to be angry. Never known how to process anger properly. It always had to be subsumed and hidden because only my mother (or brother) could be angry. For a few months I have been aware of my feelings of anger. Like arrows flying off in all sorts of different directions and yet always avoiding the target but I don't know what the target is or should be. I don't want to be feeling this as I am not an angry and aggressive person but I suppose that is where the problem lays. I can not just feel anger and move on from it because I have seen anger as something to do with aggressiveness and as a whole character trait when that should not be the case. This area is a work in progress. And another diversion from what is probably needed - another ACoA trait. Apparently ACoAs have procrastination down to a fine art.

Thursday, 29 May 2008

Film Review

Dah da da daaah!
Da da daaaah!
Dah
da daaaah!
Dah da dah dah!
Dah da da daaaah!
Da da daaaaaaah!
Da da da-dup da da-dup da da-dup da dup diddly dah.

Dah da da daaah! Da da daaaah! Dah da daaaah! Dah da dah dah! Dah da da daaaah! Da da daaaaaaah! Da da da-dup da da-dup da da-dup da dup der...er... .....

Rocks!

Sunday, 23 September 2007

I choose to live

Not surprising really that a title such as "I choose to live" jumps off the shelf at me in the cut price bookshop where I am buying the remaining items for son starting at his new school.

It is sad that such books end up being thrown on a shelf in the cut price section of the already cut price bookshop but even sadder is the bundle of books, which included this one, which is supposed to be about poignant childhoods. A bundle that is supposed to raise one's spirits with a cover price of something like £56 but here for only £7.99. None of the other books in the bundle appealed anyway but I can't imagine digging a deeper hole of self-pity for myself.

Quite contrary to self-pity, is Sabine Dardenne's account of her abduction in 1996 by a rapist and murderer Marc Dutroux and her incarceration in a dank cell hidden from the world in a cellar. This happened in Belgium. Sabine was 12 years old and had been held for 80 days and 79 nights. Her poster was everywhere and large teams of people searched for her. But she didn't know that. Her captor had led her to believe that her family had given up on her and had even said there was a "big boss" who wanted to kill her because her family would not pay the ransom. So the captor played her "saviour" and gave her a choice to die or choose to live. But to live she would have to hide and he would hide her. But her choice to live is far deeper than what she was offered; it runs through the core of her. Even then, as a young child she held onto hope and certainty that she would be reunited with her family.

In the book Sabine does not talk about any of the details of the sexual abuse which I think was an excellent idea. And actually, is not necessary to know within the context of the book. Being plucked from your bicycle mid-cycle from a passing grubby van and then being drugged, whilst she is fighting taking the drugs, and then being concertina-ed up into a tool box to be taken into a house and then stripped naked and chained by the neck to a bunk bed is just the beginning of her harrowing "alternative summer holiday".

During her incarceration, Sabine quickly realised she needed routine and order. This is a twelve year old child for heaven's sake. She kept a diary and a calendar and hoped that her watch battery would hold out. She needed to tick off the days as they passed and jotted down main events such as when her abductor went away on one of his "missions". Days she spent on her own and then when he returned it was to take her upstairs to his bedroom to rape her.

Unbeknown to Sabine at the time, the year before Ductroux had two eight year olds incarcerated in the same cell but he had been imprisoned for two months for some minor offence. Ductroux was actually married and had children of his own. What's more, his wife knew of his activities and had been instructed to bring food and supplies to the girls but she said she was too scared to do so. When Ductroux returned from prison he found the girls dead (presumably from starvation) and buried them. That same year he had kidnapped two older girls (aged 17 and 19) who he had drugged and raped and then buried alive.

Usually I like to have details but I found I didn't need to know what the sexual details were, and instead found myself steaming through the book because I wanted to know what happened after she was released. It was disappointing. It wasn't a running in to the bosom of her parents and instead was a barrage of questions and not being left alone. Sabine wanted to get back her life and had to fight to get it. She wanted to do things in her way but that didn't fit in with the people around her. Her mother meant well but their relationship was not the best anyway. Her parents ended up separating but these were fault lines that were already there.

The Ductroux case had a huge impact on Belgium and its institutions. So many mistakes had been made that if they hadn't been made then a number of young women would not have been raped or murdered. Sabine's whole point of writing the book is to give her own account in order to be able to shut everyone up once and for all and to leave her alone; and to also make sure that such mistakes are not made again.

Sabine writes in a very down to earth way. She does not want to be a hero and isn't one. Her survival strategy has been to put it all behind her and not talk about what happened or the details. To anyone and especially not to any psychiatrist! Sabine went on to have a tricky adolescence but she found love at sixteen and managed to consummate her love in the apparently fumbling way that young people do. She has had a rubbish education and jobs that have not been great. Really, a quite ordinary person who deserves to be left alone and to handle things in her way.

The bits of the book that had me streaming with tears was reading her letters home during her incarceration. It is one thing reading her book written in retrospect: as an adult; but to read the words she wrote (allowing for the fact that the book has been translated into English) at the time are heartbreaking. She was told by her captor that these letters were being sent home. Incredibly, the stupid captor had allowed three of these letters to survive and had been retrieved by the police. They later became vital evidence against Dutroux at the court case in 2003 which sentenced him to life.

"I choose to live" is a great mantra.

.

Friday, 13 October 2006

Freakonomics


This is a great book to read but I wouldn't go quite so far as the front cover blurb "Non-stop fun" or on the back cover: "Dazzling ... a delight".

The Tractor book had on its reverse, "An extraordinary read ... nothing short of amazing. A rare treat, all too easy to gulp down in one greedy sitting".

As it happens I very much enjoyed both books (buy 1 get 1 ½ priced at WH Smith!) but I wonder about the cover reviews they add to books. Such outrageously over the top comments (proabably taken out of context) that leads one to perhaps have higher expectations of the contents than one might ordinarily expect. Perhaps even leading to dissapointment for some readers?

On the other hand, I wonder if quite so many copies would be sold if they didn't put such sensational reviews on the covers? It feels almost deceptive to me. Luckily, on this occasion for me, these books turn out to be good reads but I would be less than impressed if I had been duped by the sensationalism.

My latest book, Emotional rollercoaster, a journey through the science of feelings has a rather more fitting review on it's cover: "An entertaining, informed guide to the responses that drive and colour our lives". I think that is already a far more balanced comment but then this book was tucked up on the 3rd floor and not on the best seller shelves.

Anyway, Freakonomics. It was a fascinating look at economics in terms of number crunching but applied to everyday life social situations. One of the authors took a lot of flack a few years ago for his research which suggested that the massive drop in crime in the US was due to the legalisation of abortion back in the early 70s rather than any crime measures put into place. So that by the time the late 1990s came there just wasn't the numbers of teenaged youth. What made his research so distasteful was his pointing the finger at single, unmarried mothers from low income and mainly Black families that produced the most criminals. And who would make the most use of the low-cost legal abortions. Having been a single parent on a low income of course that raises my hackles but, in the book, he does take it carefully and I didn't get the feeling he was being judgemental as well as he acknowledges the myriad of issues involved.

Other subjects he looks at includes "Why do drug dealers still live with their moms" and "How is the Klu Klu Klan like a group of estate agents" and others. Overall the whole book was thought provoking, funny in places and worth reading. It makes one look at the world, or rather question it, from a different viewpoint.


Original Comments:

Milt Bogs said...
That is a very nice template you've got there Gran.
"Why do drug dealers still live with their moms?" sounds interesting.
Friday, October 13, 2006 1:54:00 PM
Atyllah said...
Deceptive? Book blurbs? No, Doris dear, it's just marketing! ;-)
Saturday, October 14, 2006 9:01:00 AM

ella m. said...
I liked most of Freakonomics....until the last chapter. While the rest of the book was firmly steeped in research, the chapter on the connection between baby names and status contains way too much anecdotal fluff (inclusing an old urban legend) for my liking.

I'm glad to see you are feeling a little better, as you sounded very stressed and depleted a few posts ago.
Saturday, October 14, 2006 8:28:00 PM

Gerald Ford said...
"Klu Klu Klan like a group of estate agents"

Didn't you know?

Actually neither did I. ;P

Hm, I will have to screen my next real estate agent by asking what they do in their spare time (like to dress in costumes, take part in community events, etc).

None of that for me, thanks.
Sunday, October 15, 2006 1:23:00 AM

Sunday, 1 October 2006

Toshiba apples

The trouble with reading a good book is that I end up talking to myself, with that ever eternal, inner monologue, in the style of whichever writer I have just read. "A Short History of Tractors in Ukrainian" was not the corset ripping comedy I was lead to believe from various reviewers over the last months but it was still an excellent yarn with a sense of wry humour and at times a complete farce that worked well. Ultimately though, it was poignant and clever.

After their mother dies, two grown up sisters are horrified when their elderly father remarries a much younger and voluptuous Ukrainian woman, Valentina, seeking to legitimately stay in the UK with her son. The tractor history bit is something that is interwoven throughout and is an extremely novel way of constructing the story.

An undercurrent of the book is the way the two sisters are so different. One is the war child (WWII) aware of the horrors and the other born just after, in peace time UK, and a time of hope and re-birth. There are only a matter of 8 years between them but there is a whole universe of difference with each living their own life until Valentina comes on the scene and they then have a common enemy and resolve their differences.

As for those internal monologues.... this afternoon a call out the blue from son's genetic father (Mr Y Chromosone) who happens to be not that far away dropping off his youngest daughter to university. "Great" says I, "come on over" [after all we never hear from you from almost one year to the next thinks I]. Mr Y is about an hour or so away. Ten minutes later he phones again and says his daughter is coming too and is that alright and am I sure. Without hesitation, of course I say "yes". [I think family is important and they should have more contact now that his children are all adults. A little notice wouldn't have gone amiss though but I say nothing.]

Mr Y coming is one thing and does not require me to do much, but bringing a 20 year old daughter who has never knowingly met me and suddenly I have a desperate need to make sure that the house is reasonably ship-shape and tidy, which it isn't. I am almost the Valentina character from the book. For many years I was the interloper, or perhaps the dark shadow over the lives of Mr Y's children and here his Youngest was braving the visit. Youngest and son are siblings through the father. I am delighted that connections are being made. Son has met Youngest once before and the socialising is like water off a duck's back to him - he has inherited this characteristic from me.

But Youngest is a young woman. The thought she would meet me must have crossed her mind. Is she expecting a Valentina character, all hussy and frou-frou? I know I'm not that but I can't have her thinking what a sluttish house I keep. [It isn't a sluttish house either, it is actually OK but just in need of a little spruce round the edges.]

Whatever Mr Doris must have made of me like a whirling dervlish round the house barking out commands and flapping and cleaning and polishing. He must be wondering why I am making such an effort. And all the while the internal dialogue about this or that continues. At least the house did well out of it and has a fast spring clean.

Mr Y and Youngest have arrived. Youngest was ever so lovely and I reckon we clicked as soon as I loudly acknowledged (within minutes!) that her father was pushing her through University to do courses he thought were good for her rather than making the choices herself.

Mr Doris nipped round to the corner shop to find some cake and biscuits to serve with tea and after a short while into this flying visit I excused myself and Mr Doris and we left them to it. Silly having us all round politely talking: wonderful Mr Doris; the ex-love-of-my-life Mr Y; and me the hussy [which I'm not] with son [my son that Mr Y never contributed to and originally accused me of getting pregnant with on purpose who is now the apple of his eye] and his Youngest. All polite tea and cake. But we left them to it.

I was delighted that my Daughter showed her face and went and said hello. Mr Doris had asked her to do so and she could have avoided it but she didn't. I am grateful.

It wasn't a long visit but extremely pleasant and went well. Youngest hugged us all, including me, "goodbye". We even swapped mobile numbers as she offered to come and braid son's hair next time it was needed. She offered that she was only one stop away on the train. Gosh.

The Toshiba apples are a curious recipe from the book. The eccentric elderly father found a way to prepare the multitude of apples that fell from the tree in the garden. It involved cooking them in the Toshiba microwave until a warm sticky mass. It doesn't appeal to me but I tried to think of an equally quick way to prepare a meal for our guests but as they have to rush I, and they, are spared.

It is an interesting Sunday afternoon.


Original Comments:

Atyllah said...
Definitely an interesting afternoon. Manic cleaning aside (I know the tendency all too well), I think you did a stunning job in potentially difficult circumstances. Well done, you! And, having wondered about it for ages, I am now going to doddle off and get myself a copy of a "A Short History..."
Sunday, October 01, 2006 7:38:00 PM
Cheryl said...
I got it out of the library this Easter when it was new out - like you I made the choice based on reviews - but took it back after one chapter. It was so bloody miserable and boring and all about interfering and putting each other down, and wow just written from the perspective of a whiny professional victim and grumbler, I thought. All dirty laundry and no air.
You did better than me to plough through all that self involved and depressing stodge - three cheers for you.
Oh, oops, did I mention I didn't like the book? I guess you gathered that ;-)
Sunday, October 01, 2006 8:42:00 PM
Britmum said...
Wow what a whirlwind day you had. I am glad that it turned out well for you.

Does your son have long hair? I am just curious.

The book sounds brilliant too.

Take care xx
Monday, October 02, 2006 2:18:00 AM

Doris said...
In reverse order!

Britmum Hiya :-) Yes, son does have long hair. This is a pic of it before Christmas so it is much longer now and he keeps it in canerows which are easier to manage. And when he has it out he has a huge 70's afro. Quite a dude!

Cheryl I'm glad I am not the only one who gives up on books that just do not appeal! I think the book was definitely worth perservering with especially as the relationships and the different stand points (or as you put it the "whiny professional victim and grumbler") mellow and at the end even explains why. That took us into the history of the consequences of World War II and was well explained but not until the end. Also, seeing as I can be a bit thick at times, even I picked up on the double standards in bringing up kids.

PS. I think Blogger have sorted their technology and none-beta bloggers can post comments OK now. Or maybe I am wrong!

Atyllah I'd be very interested to hear views from others who have read the book so let me know some time - or maybe you might blog it.
Monday, October 02, 2006 8:00:00 AM

Pookie65 said...
Wow, Doris, you did have a interesting Sunday. I'm glad it went smoothly for you. That Mr. Doris sounds just perfect. Out of curiousity was he already this good when you met him or did you have to train him? ;-)

Huggers!
Monday, October 02, 2006 12:24:00 PM

Doris said...
LOL Pookie! Mr Doris required no training from me on these sorts of things. However, in other areas of life he may have needed a little training from me and he most definitely has trained me to become [this will be hard to believe, I grant you ;-) ] a nicer person and to be more chilled out.
Monday, October 02, 2006 3:07:00 PM

Astryngia said...
How the circle of life comes around - just a stop away. Life making another transition...

Must get around to reading that book!!
Saturday, October 07, 2006 10:12:00 PM

Saturday, 19 August 2006

h2g2: Dinner for one

On my recent adventures in Germany my blood almost ran pure champagne as at each friends house a bottle would be cracked open in my honour and a glass thrust in my hand. And even a Union flag was raised in the garden. It was great! At my middle set of friends we started off with the champagne, then the wine and then after our barbeque I moved on to tasting the whiskies! I'm rather partial to whisky and although my better instincts told me I may be consuming too much alcohol my friend's husband had that look in his eye that he doesn't always come across people prepared to imbibe. So naturally I obliged.

I don't smoke but when offered a cigar, well, I just couldn't refuse. I was offered a choice and unsurprisingly it was the larger one that smelt fab in a melting chocolate kind of way. Resistance was futile and I was having a ball.

My friends were telling me about the German (and a few other countries) New Year tradition of showing a terribly English short film and it even holds the world record for the "most frequently repeated TV programme ever". Dinner for One: The 90th Birthday is just 18 minutes but an 11 minute version can be watched online at Google. It is English slapstick comedy about an elderly woman, Miss Sophie, whose butler, James, has to play the parts of her long dead friends during dinner and who becomes more drunk as the evening passes. Before each round of drinks in honour of Miss Sophie the catch phrase is:
James: The same procedure as last year, Miss Sophie?
Miss Sophie: The same procedure as every year, James!

I had never seen nor heard about this film before and my friends produced a little book with the dialogue. Being English I naturally tackled the dialogue with great gusto and a mock aristocratic accent and we fell about laughing.

The evening progressed and I was just so happy and mellow and didn't feel too bad or even drunk. The cigar was nearly finished as was one of the bottles of single malt. At this point it hit me and I knew I needed to go to the bathroom and that maybe I was going to throw up. Like a lady, I rose gracefully from the table on the patio and began to walk towards the door. I didn't get far before the world began to swallow me up as blackness drowned me in a faint. Amazingly I landed in a sitting up position and came too rubbing my temples desperately trying to work out where I was and what had happened. I couldn't open my eyes and I couldn't respond to my friends who were becoming extremely worried.

I sat there for a few moments rubbing my temples and then knew I was likely to throw up. Within milliseconds I contemplated taking off the cardigan I was wearing and being sick in that but as it was my friend's then that was not a great idea. The patio I sat on had fine grooves and I could imagine the mess so I finally requested a bucket. Within seconds one appeared and in the dark candlelight I swiftly emptied my guts. All still ladylike. The British flag flew above my head and I couldn't help think what a typical British tourist I was. At this point I actually felt alright and wasn't in the least bit dizzy and even managed to crack a joke "Same procedure next year, James?" in a mock posh English accent. Thankfully my friends saw the funny side and are still talking to me.

The Dinner for One is something one either loves or hates and it seems it appeals to the Germanic sense of humour. Interestingly, they demand only the original English version and re-makes in German are despised. What a curious bunch our German neighbours are. No wonder they speak second languages with such ease that they have such traditions that involve a different language.


Original Comments:

Ally said...
Doris! I now have a completely different image of you than previously! :).

I am off to watch the film ...
Saturday, August 19, 2006 10:14:00 PM
Curly K said...
Doris, know for a fact that us typically Irish tourists could've kept up with your drunken escapades! No surprise that it's three am and I'm writing this reply far from sober but love the fact you've lived it large outside home ;-)
Sunday, August 20, 2006 3:07:00 AM
Chandira said...
ROFLMAO...

Awesome Doris, I too, have an utterly different image of you now, and love you all the more.
How many times have I felt that rising feeling of 'oh my god, where's the toilet??'. Haven't done it in quite a while, but it's been, uh, 'known to happen'.

Must've been the cigar. Not the drink, of course. ;-)

Friends that you've thrown up in front of are friends for life. At least, that's true of all my old school/drinking friends that I'm still in touch with.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006 4:59:00 PM
MrsDoF said...
It must be the cigar. There are a couple brands I get queasy when around, and I don't even smoke!

Oh, yeah, good friends who produce a bucket upon request are good friends forevermore.
Thursday, August 24, 2006 9:11:00 PM

Monday, 1 May 2006

History in old books

Whilst waiting for a banana cake to bake I'm blogging about the latest book I'm reading. It was a gift from my cousin which she picked up from an old book shop near Arundel Castle the other week and she picked a good 'un.

North Midland Country by J H Ingram was published in the winter of 1947-8 by Baisford. It describes this part of the country in post war Britain and is quite striking in places. He talks about the impending world famine and the effects of not only the Industrial Revolution on the countryside but also between the very wealthy and the government of the increasing "No Trespassing" signs going up and greats portions of the country being unaccessible to the English people.

For various reasons I am very interested in various parts of this country as some of my ancesters harked from here or else I am just fascinated because of the places I am familiar with now.

What I love about such old books are the perspectives or views offered up. This book is wonderful and "spot on" but I have read others that are so frighteningly politically incorrect that they are very funny. Well, maybe not but they certainly are a fascinating read until you get bored of such barbaric ideology. Something to be said for yellowing pages with an insight into how things used to be. But just to contradict myself, this shows that some things do not change:

J H Ingram speaks of the youth:
"There is a fresh, healthy, happy look about them, and a vivacity and zest for life which puts to shame the pessimistic remarks made by the old women of both sexes that the young people of today aren't what they were in their young days."



Original Comments:

Ally said...
Every generation thinks the one after them is going to the dogs ... :).

I love old books like that, too - they're a window in to how people's views / needs / acceptance of everyday things change over time.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006 9:02:00 AM
Neutron said...
"old women of both sexes"! Brilliant.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006 10:57:00 PM
Gerald Ford said...
Speaking of old books making startling predictions, I remember reading Lenin's "On Imperialism" a few years back. He wrote in the 1910's about the growing power of corporations and predicted they would become multinational entities.

Kind of creepy in that it sort of turns out to be true.

I mention all this since May Day just came and passed. ;p
Wednesday, May 03, 2006 5:56:00 AM
Milt Bogs said...
"The old women of both sexes" rings a bell.
I think that hearing test is duff. Even without my hearing aid it claimed I was "within the normal range" too. I'm devastated.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006 8:26:00 PM
jane said...
It's remarkable that generation gaps are always met with the same types of comments. "What's wrong with kids these days, didn't their parents teach them manners?" and so on.
I LOVE to read books, I could make a career of it, really. My dad was in England during WWII, it was something he engrained in my brain before he passed on because I kept assuming he was in Germany or Japan.
I just read a book titled, Anneliese. It was about a young Christian German girl during WWII. Slow reading, but it was informative as far as how they had to survive.
Now I'm onto the Vietnam war books.
Sorry for rambling again
Wednesday, May 03, 2006 11:09:00 PM
mrshellonheels said...
I love to read..anything and everything. ((((Gran))))
Thursday, May 04, 2006 5:32:00 AM
Ghone said...
Mrs Pig kindly serves me warm banana cake with Green & Black's vanilla ice cream on top.
Mmmm... I'm starting to dribble in my keyboard!
Thursday, May 04, 2006 11:01:00 PM
Annie said...
I love reading old books. I have a collection of the 'Chalet School' books by Elinor M Brent-Dyer, and love the old-fashioned outlook, although it's very non-PC. I also enjoy reading recent books about social history, and am a sucker for archive film and photos.
Saturday, May 06, 2006 12:46:00 AM
Badaunt said...
I LOVE reading old books. A while ago I read a whole bunch of Michael Innes books - amazingly old fashioned sometimes. Other times less so. But beautifully written - the language is marvellous. I love the style. Funny, too.

Of course they're not THAT old...
Saturday, May 06, 2006 3:24:00 PM
ChelseaFCChick said...
Another old book lover here.

I love reading about the world wars and have quite a fascination with history (the 20thC especially).

It is definitely interesting to read the perspectives or views in old books.
Saturday, May 06, 2006 5:35:00 PM
Writer Mom said...
I was here before, then ran off to pull out some favorite quotes.
I was also a bit tipsy, so I forgot to come back.
I'm back, and I've missed stopping in!
Saturday, May 06, 2006 10:50:00 PM
Tony said...
You might find it interesting to look at some of George Orwell's 1947 observations, here.
Saturday, May 13, 2006 11:27:00 AM

Sunday, 18 December 2005

Chronicles of Narnia


We've just been to see Narnia and I notice that most of the audience were adults. Three small children and their dad were sat in front of us but there was an altercation, he snapped at the kids then trundled them out during the movie very cross. The film is just too long to get started and I reckon it truly deserves its PG rating.

They did well to find old-fashioned looking kids but I take exception that the eldest (the goodie) had golden hair (and Prince William looks) whilst Edmund (the traitor) had the darkest hair of the 'siblings'. All the baddies were stereotypically ugly and dark.

I also found the intial adult and child relationships: youngest Lucy going off for tea with Mr. Tumnus, the Faun; and Edmund meeting the White Witch; just a tad icky. Something about these scenes made me feel uncomfortable. These are the aspects of the film I didn't like.

A long time at the beginning covers the kids in wartime London and being evacuated. This was poignantly portrayed and makes me think about how I was nervous just to leave my son at the swimming pool on his own today and yet many parents sent their kids off on train journeys to unknown destinations. How scary must that have been.

The special effects were superb. Aslan looked like a real lion and I'm sure I couldn't work out the joins. Various characters were wonderful and spiced with humour.

I rated the film a harsh 6 out of 10. Son's friend gave it something like 24 out of 10 whilst son gave it 10 out of 10. He loved especially the scary bits. The violence and scary bits should not be underestimated. And don't rush out when the credits start because the film isn't quite over at that point!


Original Comments:

8 Comments -

-->Show Original Post -->Collapse comments

Jo said...
Interesting Doris - my kids have just been to see it with their mum and they loved it too. I couldn't go but I would have liked to, I adored the books when I was little. But I was (and am) a bit wary about what they might have done to a precious memory?
Sunday, December 18, 2005 11:12:00 PM
Wulfweard The White said...
I hate films of the books as they never live up to expectations especially that of a childs memory
Monday, December 19, 2005 6:40:00 AM
Badaunt said...
The evacuation of children during the war was an AMAZING phenomenon - have you ever read up about it? Huge numbers of children displaced and sent off to strange families...

I'm afraid to see the movie, too. I don't even want to read the books again, for pretty much the same reason that Wulfweard the White says.
Monday, December 19, 2005 9:53:00 PM
J's Girlfriend said...
*Blink blink* I am not reading that post because I just bought tickets to see it myself... Wouldn't want any spoilers! I am thinking it's so long since I've read the books that I won't remember exactly how stuff goes. Can't waiiiiit!!! Will def. be back to see what you thought in the aftermath!
Tuesday, December 20, 2005 6:03:00 PM
Reia said...
i'm looking forward to watching it! i never read the book but the play/stage version of 'the lion, the witch and the wardrobe' has been so popular here that they staged it on 2 consecutive christmas seasons. :-)
Wednesday, December 21, 2005 2:11:00 PM
Writer Mom said...
Too scary for 2 and 5?
I need to get out of the house.

Edmund...not good in Shakespeare, either. Hm.

*Just saw a special on children being sent off during WWII. Socked me in the gut and made me realize we have it really really good.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005 8:08:00 PM
doris said...
Writer Mom Please ask others who have seen it, I really don't think it is a suitable film for such young ones. It is very long and quite startling with the scary bits.

Great film for adults who have read the book though! :-)
Wednesday, December 21, 2005 10:38:00 PM
Anonymous said...
Still haven't watched this film. Got it planned for this week though. Hopefully. Must say, your review has put me off a little though.
Sunday, January 15, 2006 6:56:00 PM