We Are So Cultured

So Saturday was streaming an Art House movie while Sunday was streaming from the National Theatre. We are so cultured. The National Theatre's ‘At Home’ series brings us our second home theatre night in Lockdown with Frankenstein starring Jonny Lee Miller and Benedict Cumberbatch.

Then in the week, to add yet another cultural dimension, we have a book quiz thanks to ‘Lauren and the Books’ who does a book thing regularly on YouTube along with her bloke Beardy David. Obviously I’m not a lot of use but L gets quite a few right.

Something else I’m not much use with is L’s assorted workouts. This is because I’ve not been participating but the Lad has. Whether it’s PT, yoga or Pilates he’s been there for her. I’m not sure which is his favourite.

 

One thing I have participated in is one of those Facebook '10 Best’ lists, it’s as if people have time on their hands. I was finally snared when a friend dropped me in it and asked me to list ten albums which have greatly influenced my taste in music.

The brief is one album per day for ten consecutive days but as that would be about as many Facebook posts as I've ever done in my life, I do my ten in one go.

Eight come from the eighties - Dare (Human League 1981), Pornography (The Cure 1982), The Hurting (Tears For Fears 1983), Power, Corruption & Lies (New Order 1983), First & Last & Always (Sisters Of Mercy 1985), Dawnrazor (Fields of the Nephilim 1987), Babble (That Petrol Emotion 1987) and Surfer Rosa (The Pixies 1988).

Then there’s one which is a later influence in Yesterday Went Too Soon (Feeder 1999) who have become the band I have most seen live. Oh and one from my childhood, Keep on Wombling (Wombles 1974).

After originally being told that a ‘good outcome’ would be keeping the death toll below 20,000 we now have 30,000 deaths from Covid-19 in the UK. That’s 12 per cent of the worldwide total and rising. We are second only to the United States, never a good look. 

Thursday is my fortnightly sortie into the war zone that is Asda. The lack of social distancing seems to be getting worse and when I get home I email a complaint. Although first I have to ring up to get an email address to complain to as their customer service one just rejects it. They give me the CEO’s and to their credit they do answer the next day.

On the way to take my parents' shopping over to them the Astra breaks down in Borrowash. I suspect a snapped timing belt. L has to head over to rescue the dogs, my Dad has to come to fetch his own shopping while I eventually come home on the back of a lorry.

 

(Thursday 7^th May)

Going Gentle

Doggo (and I) are warned about the state of his elderly legs before setting foot on the park this morning. There is no mention of my elderly legs. I go gentle with him, he goes gentle with me. MD does his own thing.

In the evening, bored with the food at Broadway we decide to skip it and go for a curry later. We still take in a film though and succumb to the hype of Twelve Years As A Slave.

It’s 1841 and Solomon Northop (Chiwetel Ejiofor) is a free black man living with his family in Saratoga, New York. He is portrayed as the model of upmarket respectability, so it’s quite baffling that he suddenly accepts an offer to do a short our as fiddler with two white men he’s just met, without even seeming to tell his wife where he's going.

This takes him to Washington, where one night whilst socialising with his new colleagues, he is suddenly taken ill and wakes up in chains.

He has been sold to slave traders, renamed as Platt and is on his way to Louisiana where he will spend the next twelve years working for different owners. All of this happens pretty much within the first fifteen minutes which is a shame. The director seems over keen to get us to the beatings and whippings that are to come, of which there are many.

Once in Louisiana you only need to know one thing. That all black slaves are good folk and all the white owners are evil people, end of story. This goes for the woman as well, Edwin Epps (Michael Fassbender) is a nasty chap but his missus (Sarah Paulson) is arguably worse.

Solomon’s first owner Ford (Benedict Cumberbatch) does show compassion for a while but even this doesn’t last. 

Of course there has to be one token good white guy and Brad Pitt (naturally) saves the day by getting word back to Solomon's family and subsequently in 1853, Solomon is rescued. The mechanics of this are also glossed over.

The long bit in the middle, the slavery bit, goes on forever and is nothing we haven’t seen before. We all know that slavery was a horrible dark chapter in American history but all this has been done to death before. The uniqueness of Solomon's situation, his kidnapping and later release are mostly absent here.

At least he got out and got to write a book about his ‘experience’, most of the rest of the slaves were in it for keeps. Perhaps this is why I don’t feel anything much for him throughout the film.

I was hoping for more from the film. 

 
Afterwards we have one in the Lincolnshire Poacher before succumbing to the Old Peculiar at the Peacock. We end up in the Noor. 

(Saturday 1^st February)