Photograph: Wall to Wall Productions/BBC/oobidoobidoo
I stopped writing these things a couple of years back for two reasons: I realised I was getting uncontrollably mad about the treatment of women, and that most of my thoughts were about my idiot friend topping himself.
I’d eventually found that I couldn’t find the words that would allow me to change the world for the better. Half the world were treating women like shit, while my lack of belief in ghosts made it impossible to get my thoughts about suicide across to the one person I needed to influence.
So I stopped writing.
And it’s bloody difficult to start again, what with life happening all around me without my help or hindrance. In other words, why bother?
But that’s the wrong question. It should be: why the fuck not? So here goes with a copy-and-paste from a comment I made in the Guardian about a moronic TV review(er).
Both of us feeling a bit drained, we decided we’d have a go at the latest bit of the BBC’s ‘Best of British Drama’, The Scandalous Lady W. Within five minutes, the missus said, “You’ve got that look on your face.” Apparently, I have a ‘look’ when faced with crap such as this, and apparently it’s a singularly unattractive mix of disdain, pity, fed-upness, cynicism and holding back a fart in mixed company.
We turned it off a while after, escaping the utter waste our lives were about to be turned into.
This morning, while flicking through The Guardian (the digital version, so that should be ‘flickering’) I saw a review, with the by-line: “There is tense courtroom action, social history, and two fabulous performances in this sad story of an extraordinary 18th-century woman.” Then I saw the reviewer’s name. Then I wrote something in the comments (for which I’ve so far got more ‘likes’ than anyone else)… then I thought, what a smart-arsed way of writing my first bloggie in two years. And it is!
Ah yes, Mr Wollaston I presume. Always guaranteed to get everything arse-upwards.
This is no-brain, no-talent, no-use summer grazing fodder. What passes for acting is usually known as ‘reading’, what passes for direction is usually known as ‘hanging around the set with nothing better to do’, what passes for London is usually known as ‘a gravel path outside a minor country house’ and what passes for the BBC’s Best of British Drama is usually known as ‘titillating history to keep Walmart customers happy.’
I quite liked the opening shot and the way the red dress was revealed though.
Thank you Sam. Now I can write again.
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