You know when you’ve spent a couple of hours writing something and you’re pretty pleased with how it’s going and then your computer crashes and you lost the 800 or so words worth of work that you just spent your time on? Yeah, that happened when I was writing my review of Beast. I know, I should write in wordpress directly or at least some program with autosave but I like writing in notepad. It’s free of distractions and versatile when you wanna shift your thoughts around a blank page.
It’s not Mothers’ Day over here in the UK, we get that outta the way back in March. It’s always a notable time of year here because all of a sudden all of the podcast hosts turn to hawking flowers and chocolates and I always turn to the calendar paranoid. Hell, at least in the run up they might actually be advertising something that could be useful to somebody.
So, the first time we see Marx and Engels meet in The Young Karl Marx, Raoul Peck has to two of them sitting at far ends of this elaborate drawing room. Marx is trying to demand payment for his last two essays from his publisher, Engels is arrived to the man’s house as his patrician guest. The publisher blusters between the two of them trying to keep face with a friend while dismissing his employee. The two seated scholars don’t pay him all that much attention. They’ve only eyes for each other.
I guess after 45 Years Andrew Haigh could pretty much take on any project that he liked. It seems fitting that he’d reach for a story taking place at the other end of life. Of all the ages that the young protagonist of Lean on Pete gives the youngest is fifteen. I think that’s the one that we’re supposed to believe, it’s the one that he gives when he has the least to prove, when the cruelties of the world have finally ground him down enough to be honest with those around him. I guess it is just a reminder that pain can be keenly felt whatever age you are.
The twist at the end of Tully comes pretty much as expected for anyone familiar with Diablo Cody’s body of work, it plays right her preoccupations as a creator. You know how people enjoy dismissing artists work by pointing out the themes that they enjoy exploring, reciting the trivia list of their IMDb page as though that amounts to substantive criticism. Whatever, Cody’s writing has always been intergenerational, the interesting part of her evolution is in where she chooses to lay the focus.
I know it seems like almost a week late, but over here we celebrate all national holidays on whatever Monday they’re closer to. Except May Day, that’s always the first Monday of May. Hell even the queen slides her birthday onto whichever Saturday happens to be hanging around just in case her well wishers feel like making the trip.
So, as far as romantic heroes go, island pig farmer has gotta be roughly in the middle of the pack right? Like, it’s all the necessary parts of rugged and parochial but slightly elevated. Nobody wants to fall for the dullard with a field full of leeks. And a horse breeder would obviously be some sort of unbearable in the other direction. Nah, this is a man who can look after livestock, whose hands are probably calloused after a tough day out with the animals, but soft enough for you afterwards. Besides, shepherds are either boring or stoners and cows basically look after themselves.