Monday, 9 April 2007

When I hear the word revolver I reach for my culture

My short story didn't win the prize at work. I've got over the misery and pain which resulted. There is talk of another competition in the not so distant future, so we shall see.

A couple of posts back I wittered on about films. I went to see Hot Fuzz, which was pretty good. I particularly like the end, but I won't spoil it for you!



I also went to see Letters From Iwo Jima, the second of Clint Eastwood's two films on the battle for Iwo Jima in 1945. I haven't seen Flag Of Our Fathers (more fool me!), so I can't say which of the two is best. However, I thought this a really good war movie. From the moment the sky fills with US planes (and the historical record) you know that there can only be one winner. Despite that (and knowing that World War Two was the last truly Good War)I still found myself rooting for the Japanese troops. You realise these poor sods are the Empire's cannon fodder for its last stand, not the murderous fascist scumbags who swept across Asia in the 1930s and 1940s (I somehow can't see this being released in China or South Korea).



Talking of war movies, I also went to see 300. I've seen worse, if that's not damning with faint praise! The films it reminded me most of is The Lord Of The Rings triology, due to the special effects, its mythological features and the fact that David Wenham, who played Faramir in The Rings, plays a central role in 300, not least as the film's narrator.



While on the subject of culture (and I know I need to write a big post on what has been read at West Hampstead Book Group over the past six months or so) I went to Tate Britain a couple of weeks back for the big William Hogarth exhibition there, which still has a couple of weeks to run. I was very impressed with it. It took a couple of hours to go around as one can easily forget how much art Hogarth produced. (A few examples below.)If you can, I thoroughly recommend that you go!









PS Before I give up culture for the moment, I must plug Mari Carmen, who commented a bit on my short story and feared my blog had died. All I can do is apologise to this blog's Madrid Fan Club for causing undue worry!

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