It's wonderful, and humbling, to receive recommendations like this.
As it turns out, the other people on that list were crucial to my book being what it became.
This is as good a time as any to say thanks.
Showing posts with label credit where it's due. Show all posts
Showing posts with label credit where it's due. Show all posts
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
Till another stream be forded and we reach the great beyond
Reports are coming in that British actor Edward Woodward has died at the age of 79.
I've liked various bits of Woodward's quite diverse career over the years. Certainly, his role as a police officer in The Wicker Man (opposite such luminaries as Christopher Lee and Britt Ekland) remains a classic.
And there were few actors who could pull off the suit-and-uzi combination as suavely as he during his stint as The Equalizer
But it was his starring role in Bruce Beresford's 1980 film Breaker Morant that made the most powerful impression on me. I believe I discovered it while working at a video store in about 1988. I didn't know much about the Boer War at the time, but the film stands out as a remarkably effective meditation not only on the hypocrises of war and empire but also on the friendships among men in wartime.
It's difficult to find a best-of online right now, but this scene (in which Morant and two fellow soldiers are on trial for shooting Boer prisoners although they had been ordered to do so by their superiors) should suffice.
'Rule .303' -- a reference to the calibre of their Lee-Enfield rifles -- is a phrase that has stuck in my head ever since.
And, this one too, but you want to not watch it if you haven't seen the film yet, as it shows the ending.
But it's powerful stuff.
I've liked various bits of Woodward's quite diverse career over the years. Certainly, his role as a police officer in The Wicker Man (opposite such luminaries as Christopher Lee and Britt Ekland) remains a classic.
And there were few actors who could pull off the suit-and-uzi combination as suavely as he during his stint as The Equalizer
But it was his starring role in Bruce Beresford's 1980 film Breaker Morant that made the most powerful impression on me. I believe I discovered it while working at a video store in about 1988. I didn't know much about the Boer War at the time, but the film stands out as a remarkably effective meditation not only on the hypocrises of war and empire but also on the friendships among men in wartime.
It's difficult to find a best-of online right now, but this scene (in which Morant and two fellow soldiers are on trial for shooting Boer prisoners although they had been ordered to do so by their superiors) should suffice.
'Rule .303' -- a reference to the calibre of their Lee-Enfield rifles -- is a phrase that has stuck in my head ever since.
And, this one too, but you want to not watch it if you haven't seen the film yet, as it shows the ending.
But it's powerful stuff.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Sir Christopher, Master of the Darkness
Christopher Lee was knighted today. Which, though I don't hold much to these sorts of things, makes me strangely happy.
The Guardian photo series makes much of Lee's roles as Dracula in a series of Hammer horror films and, to a lesser extent, his role as Count Dooku in the Star Wars prequels.
I like Lee's Dracula plenty (I watched Dracula, Prince of Darkness just the other night), and he was one of the better things in the Star Wars prequels.
Still, I prefer to honour him for his roles as, say, Lord Summerisle in The Wickerman (this particular scene belongs more to Edward Woodward, but it seems to be all that YouTube offers), the Duc du Richelieu in The Devil Rides Out or Saruman in the Lord of the Rings.
In any case, congratulations, Sir Christopher.
Stay evil.
The Guardian photo series makes much of Lee's roles as Dracula in a series of Hammer horror films and, to a lesser extent, his role as Count Dooku in the Star Wars prequels.
I like Lee's Dracula plenty (I watched Dracula, Prince of Darkness just the other night), and he was one of the better things in the Star Wars prequels.
Still, I prefer to honour him for his roles as, say, Lord Summerisle in The Wickerman (this particular scene belongs more to Edward Woodward, but it seems to be all that YouTube offers), the Duc du Richelieu in The Devil Rides Out or Saruman in the Lord of the Rings.
In any case, congratulations, Sir Christopher.
Stay evil.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
A momentary lapse of luggage
I would like to think that the willingness to publicly admit having done something Really Fucking Dumb shows a certain degree of character. Perhaps it even marks a refreshing acknowledgement of one's limitations and fellowship with the other sometimes confused mammals we know as Homo sapiens.
On the other hand, it might just be a kind of psychological masochism.
In any case, there I was yesterday, having returned to London from a very fine time at a crime history conference held at my university and making my way to the place where The Wife and I will be staying for a couple of weeks in scenic south London. And what do I do? In a not entirely explainable momentary lapse of reason upon disembarking, I left my suitcase on the train.
Although I realised my mistake within seconds, the doors had closed and the train was already in motion by the time I made it back through the gates.
Yes, this is very stupid.
But it is even more stupid than you think: this is the second time I have done this in the last few years.
Indeed. I am a singularly silly boy.
To make a long and wearisome story short, all is well that ends well. Thanks to the extraordinarily kind, competent and sympathetic assistance of three employees of Southern railways, I had my suitcase back within a couple of hours.
I had the opportunity to thank all of them personally (and wrote a letter to the company commending their work).
However, my gratitude is also due to the unknown fellow passenger who saw me leave the train without my suitcase and who handed it in a few stations down the line, allowing my agony of frustration and self-loathing -- while intense and certainly justified -- to be brief.
Thank you. Whoever you are.
The next couple weeks in this exhausting city will most likely dim the temporary glow of fellow-feeling that that experience gave me.
But still: it has been nice while it's lasted.
On the other hand, it might just be a kind of psychological masochism.
In any case, there I was yesterday, having returned to London from a very fine time at a crime history conference held at my university and making my way to the place where The Wife and I will be staying for a couple of weeks in scenic south London. And what do I do? In a not entirely explainable momentary lapse of reason upon disembarking, I left my suitcase on the train.
Although I realised my mistake within seconds, the doors had closed and the train was already in motion by the time I made it back through the gates.
Yes, this is very stupid.
But it is even more stupid than you think: this is the second time I have done this in the last few years.
Indeed. I am a singularly silly boy.
To make a long and wearisome story short, all is well that ends well. Thanks to the extraordinarily kind, competent and sympathetic assistance of three employees of Southern railways, I had my suitcase back within a couple of hours.
I had the opportunity to thank all of them personally (and wrote a letter to the company commending their work).
However, my gratitude is also due to the unknown fellow passenger who saw me leave the train without my suitcase and who handed it in a few stations down the line, allowing my agony of frustration and self-loathing -- while intense and certainly justified -- to be brief.
Thank you. Whoever you are.
The next couple weeks in this exhausting city will most likely dim the temporary glow of fellow-feeling that that experience gave me.
But still: it has been nice while it's lasted.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)