October 10th, 2002


the road to Jude

Road to Perdition: I actually managed to score a free ticket to a preview of this. A free Jude Law movie. I guess the gods realised the work sitch was a little on the high side this week and decided to cut me a break. Mind you, for a free ticket it was a pretty costly evening. $10 for the train in and the bus back. $5 for the coffee in Starbucks. $25 for the new top in Katies, as I was in a summer office blouse and the temp had dropped from 34C to 14C over the day. Then there was Borders, ka-ching, ka-ching, ka-ching. Disappointingly, I managed to walk away from the magazine rack emptyhanded but then decided to fill in time by checking out there dvds. Nothing in the meagre tv section, just Ab Fab and Mr Bean, so I start strolling along the films titles. Why am I doing this, I ask myself, it's not like they'll have...! Or...! Wait...there's --! Oh yes, after months of fruit free searching Borders turned into my one stop Biehn shop. This was going to prove expensive, like the time I found that shelf of Sean Bean in Nottingham. Nevertheless...my good intentions and bank balance took quite a bashing.

So, the movie. Well, let's start with the cinema, a city cinema, my old haunt as it happens. Ah, this is why I used to enjoy going to the movies: enormous screen, good sound, comfy seats, good view of the screen, decent appreciative audience who shut up during the film. This all enhanced the pleasure of a film that just flowed like warm honey. It danced, it sang, it hit every note just right. As it unfolded I realised I wasn't just seeing one of the best films this year, I was seeing one of the best films, ever. This is a finely crafted piece of art and it's not afraid to show it. Nor does it feel the need to be prickly or difficult. Gently it guides us into and through its world and I was mesmerised. Great actors, brilliant turns, the lighting, the set pieces, the music, it all came together. The plot was predictable but I just didn't care, I was happy to be along for the ride. I normally have no time for Tom Hanks but I liked him here. There was Daniel Craig, of Ice House and Sharpe, turning on the menance and then crumbling like a little boy. You need to hire Brit actors for that, heh. They can run through the emotional scales whereas most American actors these days can't even purse their eyebrows together, which always used to pass for emotion on the West Coast. And Jude, dear Jude being the most evil I've seen him in years. Yummy. Jude has this reptilian side which few filmakers ever seem to tap, though it's always there. Ah, perfect. As you can gather, I really enjoyed this. I really did. And lookit, I've been out on my own twice this week. Ha.

Quote of the day: Bill Paxton (Empire Nov 2002):

    Looking back. What's your worst memory of living in London?

    That's gotta be the night me and Michael Biehn went to the Embassy Club on
    the beers. They called time around two, but we needed more drink. I reached
    behind the bar and topped up our pints only to find the huge hand of the
    bouncer on my shoulder. The guy said to me, "None of that, Laddie," and
    threw me in a lift with Boy George. Trust me, that's the last thing you need when
    you're hammered.

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