Six Sentence Sunday: Con-Eire

Thanks, Linda Parsons.

The blog has moved: this is the last post that will be here apart from a housekeeping kind of post tomorrow. Everything's been moved over to the website for your ease and comfort. We'll play over there from now on.

It's Six Sentence Sunday again: they're going to be wrapping things up come January. It's a lot of work to coordinate something that keeps growing in leaps and bounds. I'm grateful for the new readers it brought me.

This week I offer a few sentences from my play Con-Eire which gives a behind-the-scenes glimpse at the workings of a spec fic convention. Having helped with quite a few of them, I have seen the enormous effort that goes into running them and the often capricious behaviour of 'big names' who have forgotten the fact that the people who run these are not paid and work only for the love of the stories, art, programmes and films that they love.

We catch up with the various members of the Con Com after news that their guest of honour, Very Famous Writer, has threatened to pull out because he discovered that the artist GoH is Very Famous Artist, with whom he has "history" as they say. But the complications multiply: we had a staged reading of this at Trinoc*coN which was a hoot, if I do say so myself. It was helped mightily by a very game cast and a whole lot of giggles.

 

MAEVE

Well, everything’s very hush hush—which is to say, nobody is too sure—but Minor Writer claimed that Very Famous Artist may be delving into her past for the next romance.

CONNOR

I feel like we need a scorecard.

DECLAN

Artists have to be free!

CONNOR

They always say that, but none of them gets anything done unless somebody else is taking care of the bills.

DEIRDRE

ANYway—

MAEVE

Well, that’s all I know: Someone from the past...

If you think you might like it, you can pick it up as an ebook at Amazon:

Tuesday's Overlooked A/V: Beckett's Film

Beckett is funny: people seem to often overlook that fact. Productions of Waiting for Godot that get that fact tend to be much better than those with dour seriousness. You put his craggy mug up there and suddenly it's art with a capital Arrrr! Slapstick is a fundamental element of his work however, so no surprise that he worshipped Buster Keaton. Yes, Keaton by 1965 suffered the effects of his dissolution, but it suits the haggard bemusement of his character in this short film. Beckett himself referred to Film as "an interesting failure"; considering how many dull successes fill the theatres at present, that seems infinitely preferable.



Even newly anointed big-stuff-with-a-show-at-the-Tate-Mod Damien Hirst has done Beckett.

As always, check Sweet Freedom for the round up of other gems. If you watch this on t'Tube you'll see a bunch of other videos featuring both Beckett and Keaton; indulge yourself. Another great resource for arty indulgences, if you don't already know about it, is UbuWeb.

Flash Fiction Challenge: Zoo Story

Patti Abbott has challenged folks again on the topic of the zoo: here's mine with apologies to Edward Albee and William Shakespeare and Bruce Robinson as well. So there.
 

Zoo Story

"So, this is the place."

"This? Why?"

"I thought it would be dramatic."

"Dramatic? Why? Wolf howls make it dramatic?"

"Not exactly. That scene was filmed here."

"What scene?"

"From the movie, you know the one."

"No. You mean…no. Which one?"

"The funny one, with those two guys and the drinking and—it's very funny. You liked it."

"It's not coming to mind."

"But there's that scene where he quotes from Shakespeare."

"Who does?"

"Whatsisname…Grant."

"Cary Grant?"

"No, not Cary Grant. The other one."

"Hugh Grant?"

"No, whatsit—Richard! Richard A. Grant."

"Don't know him."

"You do! He was in that movie and in lots of other ones. Tall bloke, gaunt looking, theatrical. He was in the Spice Girls movie."

"What did he play?"

"I don't remember. Anyway that's not the point."

"What is the point?"

"He was giving that speech from Shakespeare, right here, by the wolves."

"What speech?"

"Oh, you know the one."

"Obviously I don't. 'Wherefore art thou, Romeo?'"

"No, not that one. The one with 'quintessence of dirt' in it. Oh, you know, it's a famous one. Macbeth maybe."

"No, not ringing any bells."

"About the nature of man…"

"All the world's a stage?"

"No, not that. Oh, you know it—I can't remember now. It was raining down and he was reciting it to the wolves."

"Why to the wolves?"

"Because they were there. His friend had gone."

"What was his friend's name? Maybe that will remind me."

"I can't remember his name. I'm not sure the friend ever gets named."

"In the whole movie? No one ever says, 'Hey whatsyername, answer that phone' or something like that?"

"No. I mean, I'm pretty sure. The film's from his point of view. They go see the uncle and he gives them the cottage and they go on holiday."

"Oh, yeah, I kind of remember that one."

"Anyway he has that speech—"

"He does? Or the other one?"

"The other one, all right. But he gives that speech at the end of the movie and his only audience is the wolves and it's very significant."

"Why?"

"Well, because he goes on to be a great actor and you can see it in that moment. It's the beginning of better things."

"Oh."

"So I thought it would be appropriate—"

"What's the speech again?"

"It's about man's place in the world, the sky above, the ground below and how grand it all is. Quintessence of dirt."

"What does that mean anyway?"

"Like the epitome of dirt, I guess."

"Wouldn't that be a bad thing though?"

"No, not really—I think you're missing the point. It's poetry like."

"But it must mean something. If you're the epitome of dirt, you're still dirt."

"But don't you see—I mean, it's Shakespeare. Poetry."

"Ironic, you mean?"

"Well, not necessarily ironic but poetic. What's the word? Metaphor."

"Metaphor? That's when you compare things?"

"Sort of."

"So, what? The wolves respond to metaphor? Oi, wolves! Metaphorse for me."

"You're thinking metamorphoses. That's changing."

"Evolving. What would wolves evolve into?"

"Don't change the subject."

"What was the subject? This stupid movie?"

"It's not the movie, it's the speech."

"What about it anyway? You can't even remember what Shakespeare it's from."

"The play isn't important."

"The play's the thing—isn't that Shakespeare too?"

"Probably. But what I was saying—"

"Every famous quote comes from Shakespeare, doesn't it? Why is that?"

"I don't know. But the speech—"

"All the world's a stage, the play's the thing, the face that launched a thousand ships…"

"Yeah, but what I wanted to say—"

"Are they all from Hamlet? No some must be from comedies. Wait, Hamlet—that's the one. It comes from there."

"What does?"

"Your speech."

"Right, that's it. I'm sure it is. And the reason I—"

"Lots of good ones come from that play—isn't it bad luck to say the name? 'Bare bodkin': we always had a giggle at that one in school."

"Look, I wanted to say—"

"And there's a joke about privates, too. Miss, we'd say, could you read that part again, we didn't understand it. Hilarious!"

"Never mind that. I was talking about—"

"Do you suppose writers do that on purpose? Put in jokes like that?"

"I don't know. I don't care."

"What was that?"

"What?"

"That little box you threw into the pen."

"Nothing."

"Look, that wolf is trying to eat it. What is it?"

"Nothing. Never mind. Let's go have a drink."

"You're funny today."

"Yeah. Maybe Shakespeare wrote me."

"Ha, that's funny. So what was that box?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

Wednesday Wit: How to Eat

Tuesday's Overlooked A/V: The Royle Family

I know some of you will immediately say, "Overlooked, my arse!" since it's on UK Gold regularly. But as the majority of my readers here are Americans, I feel justified in the choice -- besides, when do I pass by a chance to share this terrific show? The Royle Family was created by writer/director Caroline Aherne and her writing partner Craig Cash, who also starred in it as Denise Royle and her husband Dave Best. Jim, the patriarch of the Royles was played by Ricky Tomlinson and Sue Johnston starred as Barbara, his long-suffering wife. Her mother was played by the legendary Liz Smith and their very put-upon dogsbody/son Antony was Ralf Little. Regular cast members included Jessica (Spaced) Stevenson as the ever-dieting Cheryl and Geoffrey (Keeping Up Appearances) Hughes as the extremely dodgy Twiggy.

Nothing much ever happened at the Royles. Most episodes they sat talking to each other while watching television, hardly glancing at one other, the narratives mostly unfolding in real time with no laugh track. It may take a whole episode to get used to the family dynamics, but like all character-driven comedy, knowing those characters gives you incredible elasticity. While I always think of this as one of the consistently laugh-out-loud funny programmes ever, it also has some of the most touching moments ever televised as well: Denise's wedding day, when her waters break and of course, "The Queen of Sheba" Nana's passing.

It's my goal to be as phenomenally lazy as Denise. I've got a ways to go.

I got to introduce the QoE and Marko to a little bit of the Royles while they were visiting. The Xmas episode is a rare step outside Jim and Barbara's house to Denise and Dave's. Guest star Tom Courtenay (yes, really!) steals the show as Dave's bizarre dad. I love how he says, "Bar-berra" and of course the tropical punch and the whole turkey emergency. Some clips to give you a taste and as always, check out the rest of the recommended A/V over at Todd's blog.

Tuesday's Overlooked A/V: The Bedsitter

I have featured Tony Hancock before on a Tuesday (though I don't seem to have done The Rebel yet which amazes me; and this reminds me too that I haven't yet done the apocalyptic comedy The Bedsitting Room). This is an episode of the half hour shows, but an unusual one as it's the first after he decided to end the partnership with Sid James and to move from the original setting at 23 Railway Cuttings, East Cheam to a bedsit in Earl's Court. To signal the change, this first episode of the last season (1961) features Hancock completely on his own. This solo exploration of boredom offers a wonderful showcase of Hancock's timing and precision without the exuberant foil of Sid's unflappable humour. And it's marvelous -- just marvelous.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

I'm off teaching the doctoral students in digital humanities today, so amuse yourself by checking out all the other overlooked gems at Todd's blog. With luck, I'll get to the P-Con recap tomorrow, although I am teaching as usual on Wednesday (it never ends, eh?).

Six Sentence Sunday: The Mangrove Legacy

I nearly forgot about the Six Sentence Sunday meme: perish the thought. I have since discovered that there is also a Tuesday Serial meme, so  I have to also remember to add Airships & Alchemy  to that. As usual, be sure to drop by and see all the other six sentences -- it's a great way to discover new writers. So here's something from my comic Gothic novel The Mangrove Legacy. I will say once again how much pleasure writing this surprisingly chunky novel gave me over time. It's such a joy to write very silly things. In this chapter, Alice Mangrove and her new-found friend, Constance Forward (o_O) meet a man to whom they have not been introduced. Shocking events are just around the corner!

Just then the two young women heard a voice echo tentatively across the sands. "I beg your pardon…"

They looked up and saw a very nice looking young man. Perfectly respectable, Alice thought, despite his ungentlemanly willingness to be helpful. Although he appeared to be French (his clothes were far too stylish for him to be a English tourist), his manner seemed admirably proper.

"I could not help but to notice that you were in search of a corkscrew. I can call my manservant at once and give you use of mine." He nodded slightly as if to acknowledge their predicament.

Mistaken Identity

Happy new year, everyone. It's been a cold and damp one so far in Ireland (shock!) but Miss Wendy and I managed to get out in the bit of sun yesterday for a little while to do some wandering and bird watching. New birds sighted included  chirpy little robin and moorhen up by Salmon Weir. It turns out that all the "crows" I have been seeing around the city are really rooks. Here's a dramatic shot of one out on Nimmo's pier who let me get quite close.

New Years Day gave us some good (if overlapping) television including Eddie Izzard's Treasure Island, a new episode of Sherlock and another AbFab. We only watched the first hour of the pirate yarn and then switched over to see Holmes and Watson -- and of course, Irene Adler. I wish I could say that Moffat & Co did her proud; for the greater part they did, but then by the end... sigh. Why do so many people have such a hard time seeing women as people, not just "not men"? If you haven't seen the "magic womb" Xmas episode of Doctor Who you might not find it as irksome. Then again you might. AbFab was amusing and gave Jane Horrocks a chance to show off her uncanny singing abilities. Edina's outfits were eye-searingly painful.

Bank holiday today: not sure what might be open. Sun's out at the moment. We're thinking of going to the islands tomorrow. More adventures! 

Know-vember: Mr Tumshie

All right, it's not his real name, but if you're on Twitter (as so many of us are) that's how you know him. A canny chess player, a friendly chauffeur (^_^) and blipper of tunes, Mr Tumshie keeps us all amused with his sardonic humour. But he won't let me tell you his real name because he's shy. Or the church police are after him. Or maybe it's just a fear of ocelots. Yes, I think it must be the latter.

1. What's the first thing you do upon waking in the morning?

Work out where I am, shortly followed by sighing with disappointment at where I'm not.

2. What's a song you might be persuaded to dance to?

Not sure I should say but the one I find hardest to resist is Night Boat To Cairo by Madness.

3. Where in the world do you live?

I live here -- what a silly question!

4. What's a great night out for you?

A drink with friends, preferably after a concert by a good band.

5. What's a great night in?

Being alone with that special someone -- everything else is just details.

6. If you were offered an all expenses paid trip anywhere in the world, where would you go?

Well, I've been to Paradise but I've never been to me. I looked on maps but couldn't find it so that's where I'd like to go. I hope the weather is better there.

7. What book do you wish everyone would read so you could talk about it?

Tiger's Modern by Grandmaster Tiger Hillarp Persson. For some reason most of my friends don't read chess books. Their loss.

8. What movie makes you cry?

Difficult to answer that one as I'm not much of a one for watching things that make me cry. I have wept with laughter watching Way Out West -- will that do?

9. What makes you laugh?

Lots of things make me laugh. Clever puns are a favourite maybe. Silly cleverness or clever silliness might be a better answer.

10. Are there fairies at the bottom of your garden?

No, the leprechauns chased them all away.

Alas! Thanks, Mr T.

Know-vember: Jeanne Andrew

Meet the fabulous Jeanne Andrew, a most amusing and lovely woman. I met her on Twitter, part of the extended network of Scots that I have somehow found myself amongst. She's a "stand down" comedian and budding screenwriter and writes a blog appropriately named "Funny Girl" -- and she's a lot of fun.

1. What's the first thing you do upon waking in the morning?

Shut off the alarm! If it’s a good morning I bounce out of bed, wake my daughter, get washed and dressed then head downstairs to start making breakfast. On a bad one, I give my partner a dig in the ribs, grunt and go back to sleep.

2. What's a song you might be persuaded to dance to?

Might? I don’t need much persuasion. I’ll boogie on down to almost anything especially while I’m cooking. Right now, my favourite is “You And I” by the Mother Monster herself, Lady Gaga.

3. Where in the world do you live?

I live in Tollcross, which is what you say when you don’t want to admit to living in Parkhead in Glasgow. We live near Tollcross Park.

4. What's a great night out for you?

Great food – Japanese, Spanish tapas or Tex Mex and lots of plum wine, Long Island Iced Tea or frozen margaritas followed by either a cracking movie in a comfy cinema with big seats or even couches like the Grosvenor in Hillhead and a family bag of Maltesers or a rollicking good laugh watching some home-grown stand-up comedy like Janey Godley or Scott Agnew. By then I’m usually flagging…but I’d love to go dancing after. 

5. What's a great night in?

Friends over for some grub and grog and gabbing, preferably round a fire out in the back garden on a starry night.

6. If you were offered an all expenses paid trip anywhere in the world, where would you go?

San Francisco to find Barbary Lane (from Armistead Maupin’s Tales Of The City) and then up to Portland to see Christian Kane playing at Dante’s.

7. What book do you wish everyone would read so you could talk about it?

I don’t hold with there being a “must-read” for everyone because we’re all different. I tend to talk books with my teenage daughter – we like ones such as The Sookie Stackhouse Mysteries by Charlaine Harris or The Chicagoland Vampires series by Chloe Neill.

8. What movie makes you cry?

A Matter Of Life And Death – the Powell and Pressburger one about the British airman played by David Niven who is shoot down in WW2 but doesn’t die as expected and falls in love with an American radio operator played by Kim Hunter. He has to go on trial to stay living. It was my dad’s favourite film.

9. What makes you laugh?

Filth. Absolute filth and bawdy badinage, usually with my Twitter Twibe. Plus great comedians like Janey Godley, Jo Caulfield and Jo Brand. I love “Getting On”.

10. Are there fairies at the bottom of your garden?

If there are then they are like The Wee Free Men. But I fear the dog has eaten them all because I’ve never seen any.

Ah, the poor wee men! Thanks, Jeanne!

Tuesday's Overlooked A/V: Do Not Adjust Your Set

I'm looking forward to Holy Flying Circus tomorrow night, the documentary on the fight against the Python's Life of Brian. I know I've likely seen a lot of the footage already, but I'm sure it will be enjoyable nonetheless. Good example of how bonkers people can get over something they assume will offend them. At heart, Brian is a very moral film, which focuses on the all-too familiar foibles of human behaviour. Ah, but if you're reading this you likely already know that.

Something you might not know about is Do Not Adjust Your Set, one of the many training grounds for the future Pythons, like The Frost Report and At Last the 1948 Show (source of the original Four Yorkshiremen sketch). DNAYS featured Michael Palin and Terry Jones (who had also worked on The Complete and Utter History of Britain) as well as Eric Idle. This was a kids show, which is kind of stunning (although if you look at a lot of the mad kids show at the time, perhaps not quite so odd) so a lot of the humour is very nonsensical in the Goons/Spike Milligan/NOBA vein of absurdity. You can really see the connections between the Pythons and what came before them.

Of course one of the key reasons to see DNAYS is the Bonzo Dog Band. Why anyone thought they were safe for children, I don't know. The ginger geezer Vivian Stanshall and the delightfully daffy Neil Innes headed a rotating roster of musicians but those two were really the magnets. I've gone on at length about both of them, so if you don't know them yet, you should stop reading right now and just go look at the videos widely available at a certain tubish site.

A fave moment, appropriate for the season: the Bonzos sing "Monster Mash" for your delight.




As usual, find the whole roundup of overlooked a/v over at Sweet Freedom.

Tuesday's Overlooked Media: Hancock's Half Hour

I may well be cheating by having used Hancock's Half Hour before (although if I weren't too lazy to do a search myself, I suspect it may actually have been one of the films, either The Punch and Judy Man or The Rebel). However, as I'm without cable or internet at home, I have been entertaining myself when too tired to write anymore by working my way through the 8 DVD set of Tony's best half hours. Appropriately enough for Talk Like a Pirate Day, I was watching this episode last night where Anthony pulls out his fine Robert Newton impression to do Hamlet's soliloquy. Arr, Jim boy!

Enjoy :-)

As always, drop by Todd's place to get the full round up of AV gems.

Tuesday's Overlooked Films: The School for Scoundrels

Heartsick watching the events in London -- and seeing them spread across the country. I hope things are better today. I cannot remain transfixed by the news on Twitter, as I must try to get some work done. So here's a mood lightener, the classic comedy The School for Scoundrels (1960) with Terry-Thomas playing his best cad ever and Ian Carmichael as the most put-upon nice guy around. Don't worry, nice guys win in the end, of course. Fantastic supporting cast including Irene Handl, Alastair Sim, Dennis Price and John Le Mesurier. Hard cheese!



As always, see Sweet Freedom for a round-up of other overlooked A/V.

Comedy Classics: The Running, Jumping & Standing Still Film

Hectic day ahead, much to do so I leave you some entertainment by way of one of Richard Lester's early films featuring the Goons Spike Milligan and Peter Sellers as well as other luminaries. If you don't know it, you should. If you do know it, isn't it great to see it again?

Much Ado about Ghosts

First things, first: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE QUEEN OF EVERYTHING!!

My latest column exploits my theatre madness by making it work (as if seeing a good play were really work, but shhh! mustn't let people know how much fun we're having, right?). I ran off to the theatre after a good chat with pal Gordon Murphy which was much fun. Must do it again. But here's the write up:

David Tennant & Catherine Tate Do Shakespeare

By K.A. Laity

What we really need isn't a summer blockbuster, but a summer fling.

The Wyndham's lively 80s-themed production of Shakespeare's most popular comedy, Much Ado About Nothing, as directed by Josie Rourke offers a sunnily irresistible brightness. Despite its self-deprecating title, this frothy comedy has at its heart a painful tragedy: the ease with which men in power can destroy the lives of women on a whim. It doesn't help that the lover in question, Claudio, is a drama queen of the first order. He falls madly in love and when his boss Don Pedro works to persuade the girl to wed his friend, immediately assumes the prince wants her for himself and bitterly pouts until assured the wooing was done entirely in Claudio's name...

Read the rest over at BBHQ: http://culture.bitchbuzz.com/david-tennant-catherine-tate-do-shakespeare.html#ixzz1OroHmhBg

Yesterday I headed over to the Tate Modern, where I was delighted to find the Rothkos back from their tour and safely ensconced in their little temple of quiet. Good to have that little oasis available again. Withluck -- if I figure out how to get there, I will be seeing Sarah Angliss/Spacedog tonight in Hackney at an unusual event. Anon -- more fun than writing at present :-)

Tuesday's Overlooked Film: The Punch and Judy Man (+news)

So, I guess I should mention that I will have a piece in an upcoming gallery show: yes, me. I know, I know: not my usual sort of announcement, but there it is. The show is "Text as Art" and it will open on February 28th at the Arts Center of the Capital Region. Doubtless there will be pictures and what not: I can't wait to see what all will be in the show. My piece is called "The Square Root of I is I" and grew from my recognition of Nabokov's influence on me and trying to make manifest the often invisible effect of those giants on whose shoulders we perch. I found out I had been accepted Sunday at the monthly Poetry & Prose Open Mic that Dan Wilcox and Nancy Klepsch run at the Center, always a great event. I read "Dear Friend" which is always fun.

Let me remember to put this first for once: visit Todd's blog for a round up of all the TOFs.

I had meant to write about both The Rebel and The Punch and Judy Man, but I think I'll save the former for a later post. I had not got around to this Tony Hancock film because most people told me it was quite a disappointment and not at all good. While unsuccessful in many ways, there's a lot interesting in the film, too. Not least of which is the cast: regulars from Hancock's Half Hour appear here, including Hattie Jacques, Hugh Lloyd and Mario Fabrizi, plus Sylvia Syms and the incomparable John Le Mesurier, who plays a sand sculptor maintaining a vestige of shabby gentility in a shack by the shore. Hancock is the titular puppeteer, accustomed to the roaming life yet married to the dishy Syms, who wants to better her lot. From the start, there's a mismatch between the characters: it mirrors the mismatch between the aims of the film. It starts out with a kind of gritty, kitchen-sink feel, then careers into farcical comedy, then back again. Hancock's woebegone face seems perfect for a taut examination of the woes of differing marital ambitions, but then we swing out to the matey fun on the shore with all the crazy characters. But there are individual bits of the film that are simply sublime.

The tête-à-tête between Hancock and Le Mesurier in his little shack offers a sweetly sad moment, as you see how the artist's life has been slowly eroded away until he is left with almost nothing, yet he continues to maintain a sense of style and propriety that gives a gentle dignity to his tiny world. Even if you know nothing of the peculiar developments within their relationship, it's easy to see how comfortable the two were with one another in this scene. Hancock can do so much without a word; it's a delight to watch emotions play over his expressive face. When he accidentally bursts into the lingerie shop, the myriad swiftly changing emotions are pure pleasure. I love the elegant evening that devolves into a bun fight, and while many reviewers have focused on the climactic fist fight between Syms' Delia and the cultured Lady Jane as a misogynistic moment, the class elements seem so central I guess I don't read it that way at all. It is about deflating Delia's pretension to social climbing, but it makes the object of her aspirations so unworthy that it doesn't really seem like her failing. She ends up with a black eye, but you have a satisfying feeling that the smug Lady Jane has a bigger one.

Flawed for sure -- it would have been better if they'd gone for the gritty and sad, or else made it a lot more funny, but it's not without its charms and the snapshot of seaside life, a world already eroding in the 1960s, is quite beautiful in its way.

Friday's Forgotten Books: Three Men in a Boat

This might be an odd choice for "forgotten": after all it's a classic, at least as acknowledged by humorists. But I find that the "in print" edition listed on Amazon (that gauge of what's available) is actually a CreateSpace edition, though there's a Tor edition from 2001. I am pleased to see that the version illustrated by comedian Vic Reeves has been scheduled for release here in May.

 Jerome asserts that the strength of this narrative is its root in the truth. "There were four of us," he begins, "George, and William Samuel Harris and myself, and Montmorency. We were sitting in my room, smoling, and talking about how bad we were -- bad from a medical point of view I mean, of course." After discussing various symptoms and ailments (like the Beowulf poet, Jerome's digressions from the stated purpose prove infinitely entertaining), they hit upon the idea of a a trip up the river as a perfect solution.

It hardly seems the sort of genius stroke it proves to be. The novel follows that meandering path of the Thames with a gentle but persistent humor that sneaks up on the reader. You find yourself laughing out loud at the oddest things. And between the comic moments, Jerome slips in moments of poignancy and even history with painless deftness. Sometimes they all combine at once, as when he describes the effect of a hearty meal on the cranky boaters.

It is very strange, this domination of our intellect by our digestive organs. We cannot work, we cannot think, unless our stomach wills so. It dictates our emotions, our passions. After eggs and bacon, it says: 'Work!' After beefsteak and porter, it says: 'Sleep!' After a cup of tea (two spoonfuls for each cup, and don't let it stand for more than three minutes), it says to the brain: 'Now, rise, and show your strength. Be eloquent, and deep,  and tender; see with a clear eye, into Nature and into life; spread your white wings of quivering thought, and soar, a godlike spirit, over the whirling world beneath you, up through the long lanes of flaming stars to the gates of eternity!'

The book has been a favourite of many. It spawned Connie Willis' To Say Nothing of the Dog (the subtitle of Jerome's tome). Not gut-busting humor, but an inviting story you would be glad to encounter at any time. Like the friend you're glad to see, especially when you don't have time, but gladly neglect your duties to idle away the afternoon. When you find someone who's read it, you need only smile and say "the cheese!" and the two of you will be old friends.

Perhaps the best film version is the one that has a script by Tom Stoppard: Michael Palin has said he counts it among the finest work he has done and remains quite proud of having been in it with Tim Curry (as J) and Stephen Moore (George). Stoppard's script captures the heart of the book, but the biggest laughs end up falling in different places due to the switch from verbal to visual. It only makes sense, after all.

You can find the complete list of FFBs at Patti Abbott's blog.

I have more reviews to write: Fela! the National Theatre broadcast from this week and Mike Leigh's Another Year which I saw yesterday afternoon when I ought to have been working. To say nothing of the hot chocolate I drank while lounging in the café after the film...

Tuesday's Overlooked Film: Old Acquaintance

Why do I like pseudonyms? I don't know. I'm sure it means something. For the first novel I wrote back in high school, Ace Spies Incorporated (my friend Carla claims to have the only existing copy as blackmail material), I gave myself a nom de plume. Weird, eh? So my taking up the moniker Kit Marlowe continues an existing habit.

The original Kit Marlowe was of course the playwright who would have outshone Shakespeare had he lived (being far more daring and audacious). Less well known is Bette Davis' character from the movie Old Acquaintance, a big favorite of mine, based on the play by John Van Druten (he's worked on the script, too), who also wrote Bell, Book and Candle (love that movie, too). Bette Davis stars as Kit Marlowe and Miriam Hopkins as her best pal who envies her success and then emulates it. Of course, Kit Marlowe is the "arty" writer while Miriam Hopkins' Millie Drake is the popular romance writer. Why didn't I choose hers as my rom nom de plume? What can I say? I'm perverse that way.

One of the gratifying things is that the friendship between Kit and Millie outlasts both their rivalry and the man they both love. In fact, you can easily read the film as a coded lesbian narrative, with a lot of elements coming across as far campier to a modern audience than they would have done to most contemporary viewers, I suspect. Just look at the masculine way they dress Davis at the start in contrast to Hopkins' flounces and frills. Davis actually has a tie. She's very guy-ish and at their reunion at the train station gets swept away by a giggling gaggle of co-eds -- her fan club -- leaving the jilted Millie fuming and spilling milk (literally!). Hopkins' character embodies the ideal of the flibbertigibbet, but she's spurred on by a very strong sense of competition with her best friend, yet can never quite settling for winning. She alienates her husband and then her daughter, both of whom turn to the more gentle Kit for comfort. Kit continually forgives Millie's excesses despite the latter's lack of emotional generosity, until one day her patience finally runs out -- and provides one of the most satisfying cinematic moments ever:




The film was remade as Rich and Famous in 1981. It was George Cukor's last film and starred Jacqueline Bisset and Candice Bergen. I also have a fondness for that film, though it's not as good as the earlier one. I do love the way Bergen, upon having her work called "trash" by her increasingly estranged husband, snarls to correct him that it's "successful trash!" Here's to success, however trashy.

See the full list of TOFs over at Todd's blog.

Tuesday's Overlooked Film: The Knack...and How to Get It

Before I get to the main event, some links to share: I am the Tuesday Talking Teaser over at JoJo's Book Corner, answering questions and reading from Pelzmantel, and Kit Marlowe is the featured blogger today over at the Noble Romance authors' blog, writing about her inspiration, P. G. Wodehouse.

See all of Tuesday's Overlooked Films at Todd's blog.




Fresh from the success of helming the Beatles' films Hard Day's Night and Help!, Richard Lester chose to adapt the play The Knack by Ann Jellicoe. I plan to pick up the original play (and Jellicoe's essay, "Some Unconscious Influences in the Theatre") to see how her work compares to the film, as I suspect there will be some significant differences.

There are all kinds of Lester-ish touches -- I particularly love the OAPs as Greek chorus. The art direction is marvelous; from the opening frames onward there's a marvelous look to the film, often taken to be a signal example of the British New Wave cinema. The black and white palette offers a chance to explore shadings and shapes, glossy blacks and dazzling whites. From the start we have Lester's playful surreality as Michael Redgrave Crawford's neurotic schoolmaster Colin imagines the endless line of women, all dressed identically in their white tops and swinging medallions, waiting for the door to his housemate Tolen's (Ray Brooks) room to open and admit the next one.

Colin seems about ready to burst from sexual frustration and looks unfavourably on Tolen's suggestion that his mate Rory McBride -- similarly blessed with "the knack" -- should move into the vacant room, but Tolen tries to convince him that he'll pick up tips galore. Unbeknownst to both, however, the clever if often non-sequitor-spouting Tom (Donal Donnelly) has already moved into the room and begun painting everything white ("I can't bear brown"). He also moves all the furniture into the hallway, leaving the room looking rather like a John and Yoko space.

Meanwhile, girl from the North, Nancy Jones (played by the 60's zeitgeist Rita Tushingham) wanders through London trying to make her way to the YWCA and being led astray by everyone she meets. Having experienced at first hand the reluctance Londoners have to admit they don't know where something is, I was amused. Tushingham's Nancy seems content to keep looking, entertaining herself with the people she finds, but doggedly keeping on until she runs into Tom and Colin as they've located the bed the schoolmaster thinks will be key to his finding "the knack" -- a huge metal Edwardian affair. The voyage of the three and the bed through London is a delight of silliness and surreality (likewise the farcical doors scene a bit later).

If you're wondering why this film has been overlooked by many, I can tell you in one word: rape. This is why I really want to read Jellicoe's play. The attitude toward rape in the film is, well, strange. It's not simply some loathsome male rape fantasy like Straw Dogs, but it is partly that kind of outlook. When Tolen makes a move on Nancy, to her obvious discomfort, he tells her "No one's going to rape you. Girls don't get raped unless they want it." Yes, loathsome. But it doesn't end there. There's a real reluctance to let things go quite in one direction. At first Nancy seems to change her mind, mostly out of curiosity, but when Colin and Tom balk at Tolen taking her up to his room, Tolen takes her out to a park and tries to persuade her to more intimate contact which she refuses and then faints away. Discovering her senseless body, Colin and Tom accuse Tolen of murder, but when Nancy comes round, she accuses him of rape.

The succeeding scenes are quite strange: Nancy goes around shouting "rape" to people, who react in very different ways, but she can't get the word out when she comes up to a constable, though there's a pregnant pause as she opens her mouth. Returning to the house, the camera angles give all the power to Nancy the accuser, who retreats to Tolen's room and strips. The last part of the film shifts the power to Nancy and to Colin, making clear that their real connection between the two virgins becomes more important than the "fake" Tolen who gets exposed as ineffective -- and humiliated by Rory McBride who fills the Albert Hall with his women. Eventually he joins the chorus as Nancy moves into the house, flagrantly embracing a sexual life with Colin -- if we believe the fireworks in the sky as they walk chastely hand in hand. I can't help seeing the last part of the film as embodying both the male fear of rape accusations (look how quick the media are to cover false accusations, while the numerous daily rape go unreported) but also a rather idealistic belief in a less manipulative kind of love.

Tolen's smug arrogance ("All women want to be dominated") does get shot down by the end and the hapless Colin wins the girl, but it's such a bizarre little time capsule, I really don't know how to think about it. Have you seen it?

The Mangrove Legacy ON SALE NOW!

Kit Marlowe's novel The Mangrove Legacy is out!

For sale now at All Romance eBooks -- just $5.99.

Two English girls, pirates, kidnappers, orphans, disguises, a ghost, interesting facts about insects, cheese, the King of Naples and at least one improving book:


This ain't your mama's Gothic!

Yes, very pleased to have this out. Thanks for everyone who was there for the rather prolonged composition process. Give yourselves a pat on the back for helping me. Cheers!

You can win a copy over at Kit's Facebook page.

UPDATE: I'm also the featured Wednesday writer over at UnBound. Thanks, Adele. Join me to talk about zombies!