The Tit and the Moon
dir. Bigas Luna (1994) [subtitled, from ‘La Teta y la luna’]
Arthouse comedy romance, supposedly about envy and obsession but really more an exploration of fetishes (plus not-too-subtle sexploitation scripted around Mathilda May). Watchable enough—even entertaining in its quirkier moments—but also odd without real purpose, and at times decidedly uncomfortable viewing.
The Sussex Downs Murder
by John Bude (Skeffington & Sons, 1936)
audiobook read by Gordon Griffin (Soundings, 2015)
Middling at best. While the murder turns out to be cleverly conceived (as Bude has his characters point out, no doubt feeling very pleased with himself), its unravelling is as cack-handed as the prose is uninspired. Superintendent Meredith is rather like dishwater.
The Last Unicorn
dir. Arthur Rankin Jr. & Jules Bass (1982)
This really shouldn’t work, with its Disney-style animation, My Little Pony unicorn-worship and grandiose, prog-rock soundtrack. Then Alan Arkin (Schmendrick) and Jeff Bridges (Prince Lír) come along, and somehow it does. Still a trippy adaptation, but also epic-feeling and strangely compelling.
Jeeves & Wooster, Series One
adapted by Clive Exton, dir. Robert Young (ITV, 1990)
A frivolous bit of fun, and well-cast (in the over-the-top support roles as well as Fry & Laurie, who are about as Jeeves-ish & Wooster-like as one could imagine). Ultimately, however, there’s only so much that can be done without Wodehouse’s prose.
The Professionals #10: Cry Wolf
by Ken Blake (Sphere, 1981)
Robert Holdstock’s first shot at writing under the Ken Blake pseudonym. Holdstock’s prose is a step down from Kenneth Bulmer’s, and his episode balance is lopsided, over-novelising the first story while letting the second crash and burn in a wretchedly perfunctory ending.
Henrietta Who?
by Catherine Aird (Doubleday, 1968)
audiobook read by Robin Bailey (Bolinda, 2014)
A streamlined narrative whose drollness of dialogue Aird elucidates on the fly. Though the mystery doesn’t outstay its welcome, Henrietta’s lament rather does (“She’s not my mother!”). The focus on legitimacy, though period appropriate, seems oddly old-fashioned given the book’s publication date.
Jesus Christ Superstar
dir. Norman Jewison (1973)
A feature-film, multiracial, hippie-toked, death-hallucinatory reenvisaging of the musical, set in the deserts of 1970s Israel and Palestine. Carl Anderson emerges unscathed as Judas. Most bizarre scene: Josh Mostel (King Herod) busting out moves that Mike Myers would channel for Austin Powers.
Much Obliged, Jeeves
by P. G. Wodehouse (Barrie & Jenkins, 1971)
audiobook read by Dinsdale Landen (Bolinda, 2014)
Standard fare with many a trope revisited and little to distinguish it from preceding volumes. (A pleasantly diverting rehash!) Landen, though generally sound as a narrator, grows carried away when dishing out dialogue, often running it together, blending characters into one another.
Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade
dir. Steven Spielberg (1989)
An action-upon-action film that flits between set pieces while info-dropping the archaeological points as perfunctorily as possible. The plots and puzzles don’t stack up, of course, and the Nazis are pantomime villains. Still, Sean Connery and Harrison Ford strike a diverting dynamic.
Footrat Flats, Gallery 2
by Murray Ball (Hachette, 2016)
A spaciously presented, 136-page hardcover that includes daily strips (four per page) plus whole-page standalones. While Wal and Cooch have their moments—for all his caricatured, lugubrious appearance, Wal emerges as a complex character—the dog-only strips tend to be rather cluttered.