Just brilliant, absolutely magical scenes, and that score is quite special:
Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence (1983).
Tag Archives: WW2
Memphis Belle (1990).
The opening voice-over reeked of amateurishness – John Lithgow narrating shots of our heroes playing football, describing a wee bit of superfluous info about them all – so I turned it off and watched a documentary about the bomber instead.
I believe it to be the correct decision.
This book (and its author) blew my mind.
A good lad I know found this in the public library box … thing next to Harrison Park.
I thought Alan Clark was just a funny-as-fuck semi-cabinet minister who wanked to Maggie Thatcher. But fucking hell, this work was so fluid, shocking, actually intense (even if you know most of what he’s banging on about). It’s the measure of the characters which impressed me the most. The bloke’s ability to sum things up without waffling away like most writers.
This is how it ends:
I’m taking it back to the library next week with a wee appraisal on the inside sleeve.
Wanderings and ... wonderings. 