Lilting

Chung and Whishaw

Earlier this year I read a glowing review of the Cambodian born film maker Hong Khaou's debut film
Lifting.and so I was pleased to see that Theatre Clwyd chose to show the film last night.
It was only showing the once and there was around eight people in the audience.
Speaks volumes for cultural North Wales eh?

The film's story centres around grief.
Richard (Ben Whishaw) is mourning the death of his partner Kai (Andrew Leung), and in his grief he reaches out to contact Kai's mother Junn (Pei-Pei Chung) a non English speaking Chinese woman who has reluctantly been admitted to a nursing home. Junn has always disliked Richard, resenting his friendship with her son who she had no idea was gay. and the story lifts off when Richard employs a Chinese interpreter Vann (Naomi Christie) to help open the dialogue between Junn and her racy old suitor and fellow home resident Alan (Peter Bowles) an initiative that in turn allows for Richard and Junn to deal with their own grieving together.

Whishaw and Leung as Richard and Kai

Lifting is an impressive film which is improved by the performances from the two leads. Whishaw (not an actor I have rated before) is the emotionally more brittle character of the two and his portrayal of a man who has lost the love of his life is heartbreaking to watch and made even more poignant as his obvious distress balances out Chung's more stoic and rather flat emotions of loneliness and loss.
Their scenes together (buffered by an excellent Christie as the emotionally torn Vann) are at times electric and incredibly moving. The emotion being heightened as both characters share flashbacks
with conversations they had with lover and son.
I could have done without the laboured and unnecessary comic story line of the twilight courtship between Alan and Junn, the film didnt need it at all. The film, more importantly, is a study of grief, grief from the perspective of two very different people
Lilting is a little gem of a movie.
8/10

There's Nowt As Queer As Folk

Yesterday I went out with odd socks on and a T shirt that was back to front.
I am oblivious to such faux pas
When we go out anywhere slightly smart Chris will insist that he check's my outfit. Not because I am colourblind and I have a tendency to clash colours ( which I am and I do)  but because I invarably will cock up some piece of clothing., not loop the belt in my trousers properly or not fold back the collar of my shirt.
This behaviour may seem a liitle odd to others but to me, it's a normality
Today I will be wearing my crocs with socks on.
And One crock doesn't have a strap by the way!

If the truth be known,all of us do " odd things"
We just don't crow about them to others.
I have been thinking of my other " odd habits" and in way of a confessional, here are a few.....

• I tend to sleep with a pillow over my face
• I enjoy cold rice pudding with a blob of lemon curd in the centre
• I hum the tune to " Camptown races" every night when I am brushing my teeth
• I have to drink out of the same coffee cup EVERYTIME I have a cup of coffee at home
• I am constantly writing a screenplay for a film in my head when out for a walk
• I feel physically sick when I look at a donut
• I like wearing a scarf in the house in winter
• I have a rather nasty habit of pushing used crisp packets down the side of the armchair cushion
• I break wind rather loudly if I raise one leg more than 45 degrees
• I use every lane when going around a roundabout
• I have an unhealthy obsession with Russell Crowe, scotch eggs and Zombie films
• I can't peg washing out properly.
• I love bleaching the whole toilet,  but have burnt my arse at least five times after doing so
• I fall over a lot
• I have a pathological urge to pull the church bell EVERYTIME I am in Church
• When I get my eyes tested I always giggle when the guy looms over me with the light scope
• I learnt the Welsh National Anthem from the text printed on a tea towel
• I say "hey ho "too much

Hey ho

X

I will leave you with a photo of Winnie attacking an empty bottle of diet coke this morning

The Scone Fairy

The meter reader man came this afternoon, as usual he came to the front door of the cottage, so I told him through the window to " come round the back"

We don't use the front door.

After he knocked on the back door he pointed to a white paper bag

balanced on the back garden wall

" a very old lady has just dropped that off" he informed me

A bag of warm scones awaited me

The " auntie Glad scone fairy" had struck again

Around the village in 80 seconds ( well 33 actually)

I walk the dogs four times a day. Once daily around the village. Now it takes practice to walk four dogs with one hand, both for me and the dogs themselves, but we have it down to a T .
Today as I walked them , I tucked my iPad into the front of my jacket and down the front of my pants! To give anyone who is interested a stomach eye view of our walk....its a time lapse app on the iPad so it will only take a minute of your time!

Stabtown ( The Walking Dead eps 4)

Beth...at least this time she didn't sing...well not for long that is

I've been out of sorts today......so the highlight of this Monday would be ( of course) the latest
Walking Dead Chapter
To be honest I wasn't looking forward to Beth's stand alone episode, but the story of her adventures in the creepy Atlanta hospital was a cracking hour. Beth, in series three and four did very little but sing, hold baby Judith and get drunk with Daryl, so it was a welcome change seeing her chew a bit of the zombie scenery....kick some ass and hold her own with an OCD policewoman and a rather tense set piece in a zombie filled elevator shaft.
I also think that new character Noah ( Tyler James Edwards) will be a warm and welcome character
to team Rick
Apart from the season opener, Stabtown has been the best episode to date!
Don't worry regular readers
TOMORROW WILL BE A WHIMSEY ANIMAL BASED  BLOG,

Poem

When it comes to " art" I have a couple of blind spots
I have never really " got " Shakespeare and in general poetry tends to leave me all a bit cold.
When I was 16 I dropped out of o level English literature because I couldn't be arsed with studying The Tempest. CSE English Literature studied The Catcher In the Rye, which was much more my style . I was the only person in the class to get a grade 1 in the exam......
I don't think we studied poetry in CSE English, I don't recall we did.....perhaps that is the reason I have never read poetry as a rule.
Having said this , I do love listening to the odd clever and humorous piece of poetry
Like this David Sidaris dog poem
Enjoy

A former purebred Boston terrier,
Her family's wond'ring where to bury her.

Each Saturday at half past one,
Miss shih tzu has her toenails done.
In the chair she pouts and squirms,
Not knowing that she's full of worms.

Most ev'ry evening Goldilocks
Snacks from Kitty's litter box.
Then, on command, she gives her missus
Lots of little doggie kisses.

Hercules, a Pekinese,
Was taken in and dipped for fleas.
Insecticide got in his eyes,
Now he'll be blind until he dies.

The Deavers' errant pit bull, Cass,
Bit the postman on the ass.
Her lower teeth destroyed his sphincter,
Now his walk's a bit distincter.

The bitches loved the pug Orestes
Until the vet snipped off his testes.
Left with only anal glands,
He's been reduced to shaking hands.

Each night, old Bowser licks his balls,
Then falls asleep till nature calls.
He poops a stool, then, though it's heinous,
Bends back down and licks his anus.

Dachshund Skip from Winnipeg
Loves to hump his master's leg.
Every time he gets it up, he
Stains Bill's calf with unborn puppy.

A naughty Saint Bernard named Don,
Finds Polly's Kotex in the john.
He holds the blood steak in his jaws
And mourns her coming menopause.

'twll dyn pob sais"

Last night we went to Theatre Clwyd to watch a "local" play entitled  Somewhere In England .
During the war, the BBC farmed out many of it's radio production broadcasts to the safety of the provinces. The ' city' of Bangor ( which lies just down the coast from us and which is no larger than an average town) had the responsibility of housing and dealing with a significant influx of London based variety artists.Jimmy Handley, Arthur Askey and a whole bevy of other comics and singers found themselves in the cultural backwater of the Welsh town and the play tries to capture this Welsh/ English, Urban/ rural, sexually adventurous / puritanical divide as the radio stars forge an uneasy truce with the locals.
The writer Mike James has chosen to produce a musical comedy of sorts over a straight drama, and so we have plenty of English bashing by the Welsh ( cleverly explained with written subtitles above the stage) , popular and well executed wartime songs and faithful reenactment a of popular radio shows such as Jimmy Handley's ITMA.
There is also a glimpse of how war changed the sexual behaviour and language of a significant number of the population , so the whole thing is not quite as fluffy as it at first appears.
It reminded me of a kind of adult pantomime .
Having said this, I think I would have preferred a straight drama to the comedy and one rather touching set of scenes perhaps hinted of just how powerful a straight production would have been.
I am referring to a scene where the comic Arthur Askey ( wonderfully played by Paul Barnhill) meets one of his biggest fans, a plain and simple farmer's wife, who is suffering from a severe mental disorder after the death of her husband. The comic's warmth and sympathy as he gets the matriarch to dance in her kitchen is beautifully observed and moving, and hints that the play would have been very different if it had not played for laughs.
Having said this, the laughs came thick and fast....and not just at the expense of the English characters, which was a surprise.
( the title btw refers to a common Welsh put down to the English.....it means literally
ARSEHOLES TO THE ENGLISH!)

The Memorial Hall

Affable Despot Jason is the caretaker of our village hall. He is away on a family jaunt, so I said I would open the hall up this morning in readiness for a " Vintage In The Vale" craft fair which runs from 10- 4.
I love our village hall. Slightly austere and proud, it was built with money donated by a village benefactor Michael Antonio Ralli  ( the Greek Consul for Liverpool no less) who lived in Mia Hall, which lies just west of Trelawnyd.
For over a hundred years it has been the centre of village life, and even today, when many in the village don't leave the security of their own houses, it still provides a stoic anchor for village activities.
The Trelawnyd Male Voice Choir practice at the hall weekly. There is a youth club, tai chi, The Friendship Group meetings,  craft fairs, The Flower Show of course and school concerts.
The church holds bingo nights and community meals there, wedding and  birthday parties are common and the hall is now famous on the national folk scene as a regular venue for " folk in the hall" nights ( see http://www.therecordjournal.co.uk)
I have helped prepare the funeral tea for the likes of  Flower Show matron Sylvia Evans in the tiny Hall kitchen, sat at barnstorming community council meetings in the meeting room with an apoplectic Red Faced Welsh Farmer in full fury and have even run an eight week " how to look after chickens course" for beginners from the hall a few winters ago.

Today, the hall is silent and empty before the craft people arrive with their over priced goods. It smells slightly musty with vauge hints of wood and polish and still looks splendid since its facelift of a few years ago.

I like being in the hall when it's empty. I love it when we have set up the flower show exhibits and everyone breaks for lunch. It's just me and one set of footsteps on the wood floor.

Happy Days

Oh...and for anyone reading the blog who wants to go to the craft fair....ITS NEXT WEEK,THE 8th!!!!!
Duh!