Pynchon

Oooh... Is Blogger working? It might be.

Quick, quick, quick...

It is 07:08am in the UK. I am on the Internet very early, as I am a wild and crazy guy. I am sitting au naturel in the back room, having just showered. There is no curtain in my back room, and sadly no sign of my foxy neighbour Keren, who I imagine would be delighted to take a look at my godlike physique. True, to do so she would have to be standing at the very back of her garden, standing on a chair and holding a pair of binoculars, but it would be worth it.

I suppose I had better write something, then?

Actually, the whole write up of the Pynchon Birthday meal has lost all meaning. It was nearly a week ago and lots of brain cells have died since then. So, a quick summary.

Lorraine didn't want to go. Then she did. We arrived at the Harvester at 7pm. The rest of the family arrived en masse at 7:45pm. (My Mom had said that we should arrive for 7:15pm.) We did not get a table until 8:45pm, but the manager let us choose from the Early Bird menu, which meant we had a 1/3 off the cost of the meal. Top man. My Brother has been growing his hair and beard and now bears a passing resemblance to the star of Grizzly Adams. My Brother got drunker and drunker and took the piss out of Sister 2 all night. Sister 2 retaliated all night. I have no idea what that was about. For some reason Sister 1 was in a sulk. My Niece was having early teenage-strop problems, despite the fact that she is only 9 years old. My Nephew wore his new Ben Sherman shirt and looked very cool. My Aunt looked very old. My Mom looked great. I had gammon. Lorraine had tuna. Lorraine looked suitably surprised when my Aunt, Sister 1 and Sister 2 paid for the meal. I did not drink any alcohol.

It was a good night.

Now, "United 93".



I think that it is a brilliant piece of work. Really powerful and moving. It is an incredibly tense and nerve wracking experience. I felt totally drained coming out of that cinema. It is a difficult film to write about, because the normal rules of film watching do not really apply. Also strange, because we all know what finally happened, but you still get sucked into the mechanics of a director manipulating the hopes of the audience. There is a drawn out moment, just before the passengers attack, where the terrorist knows something is about to happen. He looks at the passengers, they look at him, and I was in my seat was saying to myself, "Get the fucker!". Ridiculous, or what?

Two criticisms.

It seems very convenient that the only passenger that they chose as the naysayer; the one that wanted to sit quietly in his seat and let events take their course, was the German passenger. The actor has said that the family of that guy described him as quiet and thoughtful and a man who would consider every option before acting. True, but other than mobile phone and cockpit transcripts, nobody really knows who did what. Perhaps he considered and thought about it, picked up a knife from the galley, and led the attack. Who knows? Nobody knows.

The guy playing Bill Sliney was very wooden. Er... That was Ben Sliney. Oh, well. If I was playing myself in a movie, especially during a crisis situation, I would probably be wooden as well.

I think that "United 93" may well win Best Picture next year at the Oscars. If films are supposed to move you, it succeeded.