
Just returned from a couple of days staying with friends in Tewkesbury.
We spent Thursday afternoon walking in the Malvern Hills. The views from the tops must surely be the finest in the whole of England.


Conversations about politics, love, life, literature, form the basis of this study of the last months in the life of the late french President Mitterrand.
Elgar conducts Elgar: Cockaigne Overture, Enigma variations, Pomp & Circumstance Marches.





'Munich' is Steven Spielberg's latest film, and is based on the true life kidnapping and murder of the Israeli Olympic team by palestinian terrorists at the Munich games in 1972 and the bloody aftermath in which Mossad (the Israeli Secret Service) track down and murder the killers. So much is true; the rest of the film is at best conjecture and at worst gruesome fiction.
Spielberg is one of my favourite directors and I always look forward to seeing his latest films; Munich is no exception. This new film has all the ingredients of great thriller, but somehow for me it doesn't work. Frankly I felt uninvolved throughout the film and worst of all, bored throughout most of it. One of the problems is the length. A film that is over two and a half hours long has to have something to sustain me. This film had very little going for it. Usually good photography can, for me, compensate for a lot of a film's shortcomings, but alas there was little to please the eye. There were some interesting locations: Paris, London etc but all were photographed in such poor colour that they looked drab and characterless; Spielbergs colour pallette being limited to blues, greys and dun.
There is much gratuitous violence too. Spielberg doesn't spare the viewer any of the gory details of the numerous murders, which frankly after the first two lose their effectiveness. I found it tiresome having to watch one murder after another in such graphic detail. If Spielberg wanted to shock me, he failed, because after an hour I had become inured to the violence.
Frankly I couldn't wait till the end of the film. Had I rented it on DVD I would not have bothered watching it after the first hour.
I'm sure the film will find an audience - Spielberg's name will guarantee that, but I'm afraid this viewer won't be recommending it to anybody.
One day back in 1998 wandering through Waterstones in Manchester looking for something quick to read, I was struck by the cover of a new title by an unknown writer (to me at any rate) called Annie Proulx. She was also the author, so the jacket of the book said, of 'Shipping News'. It was only sixty-four pages long and had an intriguing plot. I bought it. I later read it in all of an hour. It is an irony that the book on which a film is made should take less time to read than the movie is to watch! However, whether one reads it or views it, Brokeback Mountain is a story that lingers long in the mind.

