MG and DB

Here's my good friend DB, who I inherited from the one time in my life that I was ever in a Clique. It was at St Cross College, Oxford and for some reason the cool American grad students welcomed me into their urbane little set, who would always sit at the same table for lunch and watch as the Goddess Hoku opened her mail (often actually addressed to her as that...), and have cool nicknames for some of the more distinctive dons (we had a Panzer Fuhrer, a Yoda, Obi-Wan, and a Dingleberry). I'd always kind of admired the group from afar; when I eavesdropped their conversation it sounded like the Algonquin Round Table meets the Star Wars Fan Club.

I first got an 'in' with them when I overheard Hoku talking about my beloved PJ O'Rourke, whose book "Republican Party Reptile" I owned and loved, and whose new book "Holidays in Hell" was just out. Hoku and I became life-long friends following our walk to the bookstore to each buy a copy of HIH.

The group would meet in someone's college room for video evenings to watch shows like "Sledge Hammer!" and "Rocky and Bullwinkle", which were all new to me. We'd eat pizza and play with Legos. These were the type of people I'd never come across before at Oxford - right-leaning, funny, educated, witty and cosmopolitan American liberal-arts students. I was totally smitten.

This was back when there was still an Evil Empire and we had a gazillion Soviet nukes aimed at our heads, when the GDR was still cool in a grimly-socialist-black-and-white-movie sort of way - it wasn't like being a neocon or anything. One of the group, Peter Schweizer, had spent time with Washington bigshots and had published a book entitled "Grinning with the Gipper: The Wit, Wisdom, and Wisecracks of Ronald Reagan"

But as people invariably do in Oxford, they left. Eventually only two local hangers-on were left: me and DB.

We didn't really know each other at first. The group was big enough that we'd only chatted at the periphery. When we exchanged phone numbers at the farewell party of the last of the group to leave, I wondered vaguely if we'd ever meet again.

We did though, and I'm glad because DB has been one of my best friends for years, through thick and thin. She wrote weekly limericks to cheer me up through one gloomy bit of my life, I stripped wall-paper with her when she bought a cottage that needed EVERYTHING doing. I introduced DB to the concept of Murder Mystery parties and then DB expanded and improved upon the concept until they were a thing of minor legend, at least in Hertford College MCR.

DB tempted me out for tapas, cocktails and a movie last night. We saw "The Lives Of Others", the winner of last year's Best Foreign Film Oscar. I haven't seen such a touching, beautifully constructed and performed film for a long time. Everything about the film is just brilliant.

Fundamentally it's a story of unrequited love and how a dutiful state security official metamorphoses into a Good Man when he falls in love with someone who he can never have, but who through her plight opens his eyes to the wrongdoing in his own occupation. It's a film which sticks rigidly to Robert McKee's stern advice to screenwriters that MEANING produces EMOTION. (As opposed to loud explosions and car chases...)

Great movie - thanks DB!

Mi Swing Es Tropical

Watching the latest Jason Bourne movie last night, I was delighted to see the new ad for iTunes+iPod. It's a little salsa song, with terrific dancing.



Re the Bourne: I enjoyed it but later realised that I'd never once really felt as though Jason was in any real peril. He's just so ruthlessly efficient that instead of worrying about him I was admiringly thinking...no problem, Jason can handle anything.

There's a lesson there...

God help me I've got writer's block again...

Actually yes, I DO think that three days running of not being able to write clocks in as an Officially Recognised Bout Of WB.

Things I have done in the past three days rather than write the next, challenging chapter of Jaguar's Realm.

(I mean, things I'm prepared to admit to in a blog)

1. Read emails about and from staff at the school where I'm a governor. Read them again, and again and again.

2. Phone people about the school where I'm a governor.
(yes I HAD to do those things but believe me, I lingered)

3. Browse for, choose and buy salsa dancing clothes and shoes from ebay.

4. Try on said salsa dancing clothes and shoes, gloat and marvel at how finally I've found an outfit that works for me and how light-as-a-feather the shoes are and wonder why I haven't invested in specialist kit for my main hobby before.

5. Jump on any email from my editor about the ms for Joshua book 1.

6. Join Facebook and spend an entire day mooching around on it, looking people up, customising my content.

7. Shop at Primark to make myself feel frugal.

8. Drag my husband out for breakfast, lunch, coffee, long walks.

9. Pester my neighbour Gabby to gossip with me; he was only trying to watch the tennis but would I let him, no.

10. Practice my reggaeton moves until my insides hurt from excess abdominal wiggling.

Don't even think that I'm running out of stuff to do. There's still Litopia, browsing salsa music on iTunes, reading Caitlin Moran's column in The Times (today I found out that there's a Facebook group called 'I Want To Be/Have Sex With Caitlin Moran When I Grow Up', which I won't join because she's actually on it herself and as you'll know if you read this blog regular-like, Caitlin is trying to exert pressure, by remote, on Big Brother quitters like me who've gone cold turkey and are trying to pretend BB isn't on this year), baking chocolate cake.

I wish I could put movies, books or TV on that list but in truth they take just too much concentration. Don't you think that if I could concentrate that hard I'd actually tackle this chapter head-on???

That said, here's a list of movies I'm looking forward to failing to get in to see:

Tell No One (still haven't managed to catch it)
Harry Potter 5
Transformers
Buy It Now
The Simpsons Movie
The Bourne Ultimatum (LOVE the Bourne!)

Top Ten Superhero Films Part 1

Let's count down.

10. The Shadow (1994)
I like that The Shadow isn't a victim of a horrible accident or scientific experiment gone wrong. I don't quite understand where his powers come from and the film doesn't really explain properly, which is all to the good - leaves some ambiguity. Is he some reincarnated warrior, or an immortal? Why does he change from handsome Lamont into ugly-mug Shadow? But the psychic aspect is really intriguing. The 30s-art-deco thing is done perfectly here, not overstated but consistently elegant. Alec Baldwin when he was still very hot, is deliciously inaccessible to the feisty blond sidekick who wants to get her paws on him. This movie is under-rated as far as I'm concerned. A certain amount of cheesiness is called for in superhero movies.

9. Batman Returns (1992)
Utterly classic! For Batman fans, this has it all - the scenes of Arkham Asylum - the lunatic, disfigured baddie (Penguin), the introduction of the sublime Catwoman (Michell Pfeiffer giving Julie Newmark a run for her money), and Batman before he became, as he is wont to do, a self-parody.

What is about The Bat that makes him eventually descend into bad self-parody? The new incarnation of Batman was allegedly influenced by Frank Miller, great reinventor of Brucie as a tough, angsty crusader. But by the third movie all that was forgotten and we were lurching back into Adam West territory. So now, with Batman Begins, we're back with the Miller-esque Batman. Let's hope it sticks. But 1992 was still a heyday for long-time Bruce Wayne fans like me.

8. Batman Begins
Comic books films grow up! said the critics. hey! Who said we wanted them to? This explores not just the origins of Batman and his early years, allegedly based on Frank Miller's Batman Year One (and presumably Year Two, not written by Miller, but which introduces Ras Al Guhl to the early-Batman lore). Quasi serious and quite violent action movie. Brilliantly explores the psychological dimension of Bruce Wayne's incarnation as the Batman, in a similar way to the best Batman comics.

7. X-Men (2000)
Now I'll confess to never having read X-Men comics. I don't like multi-protagonist comic books; there I've said it. With the exception of the brilliant Watchmen. This is my beef with Marvel. If one hero is good then two is better, seems to be the prevailing thinking. I always worry when I pick up a Daredevil that shows MM battling a few demons with the help of Spidey et al. Oh, boo, demons v the Marvel crowd, I go. So I don't read JLA or XMen or Fantastic Four.

I prefer my superheroes to fly solo and preferably to be in big trouble, suffering. (Which is why Miller's Daredevil is my favourite stretch of comic books stories ever)

This meant that I didn't expect the movie of X-Men to be so damn great! Who knew?! It's awesome. If I had time I'd go back and read the comics. But I don't. And now I'm probably too old to properly enjoy them.

Part of the movie's brilliance are the performances of Ian McKellan, Patrick Stewart and Hugh Jackman, amongst others. But the writing and effects are also terrific.

6. Superman (1978)
People forget how amazing this was. It was fabulous! Christopher Reeve made it look simple to be goofy Clark Kent and Superman too, but it was a genius performance. And Marlon Brando as Jor-El, the whole Krypton thing, Gene Hackman as Lex Luthor. This is where great superhero movies all began.

Spidey 3 - Best Comic Book Movie Ever?

Spiderman 3 starts with such sunshine and happiness in the eyes of young Peter Parker that you just know things are going to get real, real bad.

But what a movie! It has romance, massive action including Green Goblin (2) on his board, two laugh-out-loud-for-ages-funny comedy scenes, pathos; heck, it's got it all!

In the tradition of Marvel superhero comics, the climactic scenes feature a titanic battle between the improbably-abled, unfortunate victims of scientific-experiments-gone-horribly wrong. In this case, that would be Green Goblin (2), Spidey, Venom and Sandman (not Neil Gaiman's...the Marvel one).

Those clashes-of-titans can be a a bore to read for the 'mature' comic book reader, but heck, they look good onscreen. What makes it much, much better here is that, true to the recent vogue in some comic books - since the early days of Frank Miller and Alan Moore - the superheroes are motivated solely by human tragedies and personal demons. The whole story is constructed on the relationships between the characters.

And no sign of a Pinky-and-the-Brain plot, whatsoever.

(Pinky: " Gee Brain, what do you want to do tonight?"
The Brain: "The same thing we do every night, Pinky - Try to take over the world!")

PS. I've just remembered Superman 2. (Old-skool Superman, the one when Supe gives up his superpowers so that he can ahem! Lois Lane). Is Spidey 3 better...? Hmm, tough call.

Bridge to Terabithia - I cried AGAIN!

If you are reading this blog post when 'Bridge to Terabithia' is still playing in the cinema, and you haven't seen it, may I make a suggestion?

Move AWAY from the computer. Get your purse/jacket/wallet and head out to see it. Right now.

This is the best children's movie I've seen for years and not only made me cry but is beautifully adapted for the screen, and captures perfectly what it is like to be a child who lives in a make-believe world. It wasn't just the storyline that made me cry, it was being reminded so sharply of what it feels like, as a child, to lead a younger sibling into a magical world you've created just for them.

Ah, but you're writing children's books now, you may say. You'll be doing that for your readers.

It isn't the same. Writing is hard, technical work. But as a kid I once led my baby brother into an old, overgrown and walled orchard at sunset and convinced him that the apples were enchanted, that we had to cross the orchard without looking back ONCE. I swear...as we crept across, my brother trembling with excitement, in the corner of my eye I saw those trees move.

The Painted Veil - I cried!

I love Deborah Ross's movie reviews in The Spectator. The poor woman mostly seems doomed to have to see films that disappoint, and when she says to stay away I usually do. Conversely, when she gives something a really big huzzah...hey, I'm there.

So I had to dash out to see "The Painted Veil", which made our Deborah weep, apparently. I was one of the only people aged under 50 in the cinema, so I could tell right away that it was a Serious Proper Film for Grown-Ups and not like the usual eye-candy I usually go to see. (Art cinema, moi?)

Actually it wasn't very arty at all, which explains the multiplex distribution. Instead it was a good-old-fashioned emotional drama told really well, with no fancy footwork. I loved the screenplay, which ticked all the boxes I can remember reading in Robert McKee's 'Story' as well as a pretty strong Hero's Journey for the Naomi Watts character, Kitty. I read somewhere that in the Extreme Love Story genre the lovers actually fall into the roles of Protagonist and Antagonist. I can't remember seeing this technique better and more subtly executed than in this film. You can keep your histrionics and your 'Frankly-my-dear-I-don't-give-a-damn's; what could be more touching than two people accepting each other's minor failings as human beings, learning who they really are and falling deeply in love?

I thought I'd get away without crying...until they played that song À la claire fontaine. Nostalgia overwhelmed me; I remembered singing that song at school in French class.

I was warned once about the soppiness of middle-age by my father. He used to stream tears at sad movies and Italian opera. As a teenager I'd watch him, all crisply dry-eyed and make some cutting remark. "Wait until you're in your forties," he'd say, "and there's nothing more beautiful than crying at Italian opera."