The Salesman ( and Auntie Glad)

I can't remember ever watching an Iranian movie, so I was awfully glad to catch a showing of The Salesman at Theatre Clwyd yesterday.
It proved to be an excellent watch.
Rana (Shahab Hosseini) and Emad (Taraneh Alidoosti) are an intellectual and arty married couple living in Tehran. He is a teacher of literature and both are actors in a fringe theatre company which is staging rehursals of Death of a Salesman. 
Having to leave their apartment ( under threat of collapse during a frightening opening sequence) the couple take over the rent of an apartment formally frequented by a prostitute and their life together come to a dramatic and unexpected turn after Rana is assaulted by an unknown former associate of the former tenant.
Almost seamlessly, the drama slides from the interesting story of the domestic life of the Iranian middleclasses to a much darker story of revenge and lost trust  as Emad searches for the assailant amid unspoken worries that Rana perhaps knew more than she is admitting to.
During his investigations, things get seriously embroiled and confused with parallels made between Emad's stage persona of Willy Lomax and his thwarted, impotent feelings as Rana's husband and all this done with the subtle yet interesting insights into the Government censorship of literature and theatre and the general  attitude towards women in this world where an Iranian actress playing a goodtime girl in an Arthur Miller play has to wear a red hijab and floor length coat to signify her character!

Alidoosti is impressive as the husband who cannot quite deal with the emasculating nature of his wife's attack and Hosseini matches his performance as  the wife who is initially shamed by events but who is ultimately disgusted by her husband's need for vengeance
8/10
                                  ***********************************

Now I can share some news of Auntie Glad, who has been moved much nearer to home after " going walkabout" from her previous care home. The village jungle telegraph ( which according to Gladys' daughter is more effective than anything the CIA could ever find out) told me yesterday that the move was imminent and now Gladys is living in a home in Prestatyn, a town only a few minutes away!
Visiting her will be rather melancholy for me as the care home is the one my mother died at fifteen years ago.

When Did You Last Cry?

Yesterday I went to Theatre Clwyd to see the Iranian drama The Salesman which was a cracking movie and one I shall review later. Beforehand, however, I sat through the preview of the Lasse Hallstrom film  A Dog's Purpose and found myself tearing up.....At THE PREVIEW!!!!
The film doesnt look very sparkling, but I know that the sentimental romp where a sucession of dogs die and get reincarnated would literally have me in the funny farm.
I won't be going to see the movie!

I cry easily. The older I get, the less control I seem to have over my tear ducts. Surprise reunions on tv shows, animal hospital stories and even sad music can now set me off, so I cannot be that surprised to start blubing at a 3 minute preview! My father cried easily and often, perhaps it's in the genes!

When did you cry last?
I'd be interested to know

Altruism

The Prof is working away and left home at an ungodly hour this morning, I couldn't face driving so told him I would catch the boneshaker minibus to town midmorning in order to pick the car up from the station.
The £2.90 bus fare is worth the lie in.
As I was waiting for the bus, I spied a guy collecting litter from the village pavements, I presumed he was a council worker.
The man said hello as he passed and then I realised he wasn't a council worker but just a regular bloke collecting rubbish from a country village!
I snapped a photo of him, as he continued his presumed voluntary work on the grass verges.

I am a firm believer of true altruistic behaviour. I think it is something that should be encouraged by parents of children and by teachers with their students at school. It should be the expected norm and not the pleasantly surprising exception to it.
We all need to give something back to our communities. And that gift should hold no strings.

Many people think that they are altruistic, but often their kindnesses such as a charity donation, a text to comic relief or a couple of pounds given to Big Issue salesman are only a second lasting quick fix.
Altruism takes effort, time and energy.
Collecting rubbish from the side of the road for no thanks is true altruism.

Pompous Arsehole!

Twenty five or so American Mormon visitors filled the Churchyard this afternoon as the dogs and I walked back from the new cemetery beyond my field.
They all got off a coach parked up on the main road by the school.
I stopped to ask them if I could help them with any questions on the history of the village as many were looking for the graves of their ancestors with the name of " Parry"
I love feeling important!
One lady listened to me spouting forth on the history of the village to a group of bored looking fellow yanks and then asked politely if she could take a photo!
" if you like" I said thinking of a pose I could strike which would inform them I was " professional and dignified and which wouldn't show my double chin"
She smiled her thanks, clapped her hands in excitement and took what seemed like a hundred photos of each of the dogs!
That will teach me! 

The Pleasures Of Cheap White Bread

oh Lord, no posts over the weekend! That's not like me. We had a busy day on Saturday then I was working all day Sunday which was followed by a twilight shift at Samaritans . I didn't get home until 1.30 am, tired and somewhat jaded only to be faced with the body of a rabbit lying headless under the catflap.
I've counted just three adult rabbits on the field this morning. The only survivors of the myxomatosis  plague of last month.
Anyhow, I  caught neighbour Betty standing at the field gate when I returned home from dropping the Prof off for his train journey to Cardiff. She was waving two pieces of cheap white bread above her head like an elderly semaphore enthusiast.
This happens a great deal from time to time, especially as several locals now understand just how much the sheep adore these delicate morsels. All it takes, with one or two wafts of a slice, and both Sylvia and Irene bust an absolute gut to overcome their natural shyness to  gallop up to the gate in order to coyly accept the offering and chomp away with eyes closed in happy rapture.
Animals like people, love a treat.
For  George it's miniature cocktail sausages whereas William will go weak at the knees over a cheap spar meatball.
Winnie having eclectic tastes, prefers roast beef and lamp shank. ( and there is a facebook video doing the rounds with my friend Greta and her husband feeding her such tidbits with a fork at the dinner table!)
I still go weak at the knees over the mere glimpse of a scotch egg whereas the Prof especially loves a cheesy ball!
( make of that what you will)
Anyhow back to cheap white bread!
I adore the smell of it, and the way that you can reduce it to dough just by pressing it hard between your fingers! It reminds me of those 1970s Fridays at my grandmothers' where jam sandwiches made with baking margarine and strawberry jam and a cup of sweet tea was the order of the afternoon!
Baked beans always tastes better of toast made from cheap white bread!
Try It and you'll see I am right.
Pippa, from the Rectory, often comes around with all sorts of designer rye bread and hard as rock expensive French baguettes for the sheep to eat and they nibble on her offerings with a politeness bordering on boredom. Betty's cheap crusts go down so much easier.
My sheep are like me, they are easily pleased.

I'm An Optimist

These are the things I am presently looking forward to

 

My nickname was Greymouse in school! 

• Holidays in Spain, Broadstairs, Sheffield and New York later this year!
• Days out planned in London with hubby,
• My retirement at the end of July
• Visiting the new Storyhouse Theatre and Cinema in Chester ( which used to be the old Odeon)
• Losing more weight and buying nicer clothes( and see below)
• Being able to bend over without farting
• Getting fitter with badminton ( and still beating the Prof as I do so)
• Watching The Mist tv show! ( a tv version of one of my favourite films!)
• Learning Spanish ( I aim to start classes in September)
• Catching up with my old friends more ( Nu, Nige, Mike, Bev, Jane, Kath, Bel-Ami, Hazel, ) 
• Going to comic con  just once to meet Norman Reedus and Melissa Mc Bride ( Walking Dead) 
• Seriously starting to write a book
• Starting a pottery night class ( I have always wanted to )
• Getting a new kitchen finally sorted! 
• Finally Winning the Quiche class at The Trelawnyd Flower Show
• Joining the community choir in Gwaenysgor ( I am not talented enough for the Village MVC)
• Get a scotch egg tattoo! - a tiny grey mouse holding it! ( my nickname in school was greymouse!)

GWhat are you looking forward to?
I'd be interested to know xxxx

The new Walking Dead?

Chester nights out

My spiritual home

What's Happening?.

 Manet's painting A Bar at the Folies-Bergere was the highlight of my trip to The Courtauld Gallery. There is something rather sad and remote about the hostess'  expression that catches the eye and it draws the viewer into the painting and the girl's possible backstory.
I listened to two elderly thespian types who described the subject as a prostitute which perhaps makes sense of her withdrawn, slightly uninterested look. I enjoyed hearing and experiencing their passion for the paintings as they tottered around.
The Courtauld was quiet, a thing I love when I visit a gallery or museum The silence and space, free of bodies allows you to think about the paintings properly

Today couldn't be more different. The weather is colder and damp, and the dogs are uncharacteristically quiet as they always are after the excitement of being away. I must also thank blog reader Amy today who sent me a blanket to forward on to Auntie Glad.which I will do next week, a very kind thought, thank you!

The Welsh poppies, lively in their yellow, spring colour are flowering in the garden. They have lightened the day

Casanova

 From it's first few minutes, I just knew we were watching something very special. The Northern Ballet's production of Casanova ( playing for just a few days at Saddler's Wells ) started with a real bang! A Gothic cathedral, with nuns, hooded monks and inquisition cardinals dressed in vibrant red gliding back and forth alongside an overtly sexual young Casanova, the ballet was a totally theatrical experience and a feast for the eyes from the get-go
It was amazing! At times incredibly moving, sexy, adventurous and wonderfully exciting.
I couldn't praise it more highly even though some of the narrative in the second half was somewhat confusing.
If you get the chance to see it, please do so. Even the Prof wants to see it again!

 

I had a lovely 24 hours in the capital. Breakfast in the skygarden
A visit to The Courtauld Gallery at Somerset House , a bit of shopping, lunch at Dishoom and a snooze in Green Park.....lovely xxx