RIP Panorama

Anyone else remember Panorama?

It used to be an investigative journalism programme.  Now it seems to have turned into just another arm of the tabloid press.

Tonight’s programme dealt with child prostitution and the alleged failure of the “authorities” to deal adequately with it.  The reporter’s language was peppered with phrases such as “ruthless criminal gangs”.   As opposed to all those terribly well-mannered and restrained criminal gangs, I suppose.  At one point he suggested that the reason that child prostitutes are largely “invisible” is because, rather than being found on the streets, these children are more likely to be holed up “in a flat above a taxi firm somewhere”.

And I presume it was sloppy editing that allowed the question “When is the government going to make pimping children a statutory police target?” to make it into the programme.

Old

There’s been some speculation of late on various blogs about what constitutes being ”grown-up”. Although I realise that, for some people, being a parent automatically confers “grown-up” status on you,  I’ve always felt that, as I’ve never lived alone or been financially independent, I wasn’t really a grown-up yet.

Until this morning, when I realised that I’m not so much a grown-up as just old. 

It all started with a comment I made here.  While I could appreciate the charms of young Mr Rhys-Meyers and Herr Volz, I felt a bit like I do when I admire something my teenage daughter’s wearing – I can see why it’s attractive but it’s not for me.  Now I’ve already gone on record as an ardent admirer of a man 14 years my senior, but even I was a bit surprised at the amount of time I spent over Easter weekend watching Jack Shepherd* in re-runs of a TV series I didn’t even watch first time round.  The lovely Mr Shepherd, by the way, is 67 and only a few months younger than my mum.

What finally convinced me that I was truly ancient though, was a conversation I had with Brian this morning.  I was recounting Daisy’s response to my previous post (‘He’s a good actor, mum but he’s so OLD’) and laughing at the fact that Daisy’s finding Daniel Auteuil (ten years her father’s senior) attractive would be like me finding someone of 82 attractive!

‘Yes’ said Brian ’someone like David Attenborough’

Oh. Yes.

* No, not this one**

** Or this one

Second Wind

I suppose saying “I like French cinema” is a bit vague, a bit like saying “I like red wine”.  OK, so let’s narrow it down.  I like French films.  I especially like the ones which feature Daniel Auteuil.  Now here I must be mindful of a recent post over at Tim’s place and ask Small Boo if it’s all right if we share?

On Friday I went to see Le Deuxième Souffle.  It’s a remake of a 1966 film of the same name (I don’t know the earlier film or the novel on which it’s based; I don’t know much about French cinema but I  know what I like).  Set in the late fifties, the main business of the film concerns a gangster, Gustave “Gu” Minda (Auteuil), newly broken out of jail and intending to flee the country with his lover.  The only problem is money – he needs to do one more job and then he’ll be set.  Conveniently, a job presents itself, a bullion heist.  The job passes off smoothly and all looks well.  But he has reckoned without the new police chief, a man with a dry wit and an instinctive understanding of the criminal mind who, having tricked Gu into incriminating himself, sets about destroying his reputation with the rest of the gang.  In true “honour among thieves” style, Gu must “clear” his name before he and his lover can begin their new life together.

As plots go it isn’t terribly original but the film is so beautifully played that it hardly matters.  This is a piece of cinema with style.  The performances of the principal characters are subtle and nuanced, the world they create convinces.  This is particularly true of Auteuil (OK, you knew I was going to say that, but it’s true).  His gangster is violent (the film is extremely bloody) but he is also a meticulous man, his attention to detail, in both his “professional” and personal lives, is impressive.  The “lovable crook” is a worn old cliché and, as you would expect, Auteuil steers well clear.  This is a man who, while despicable, exudes charm and fascinates those around him.  Even his sworn enemy, Blot (Michel Blanc) has a sort of grudging respect for him.  An early scene  stands as a perfect metaphor for the entire film.  Shortly after arriving back in Paris after his jailbreak, Gu is taken to a safe house.  His lover, nightclub owner Manouche (Monica Bellucci) has sent food and wine for them to share later.  As their mutual friend and colleague, Alban (Eric Cantona) sets out the meal, you realise that these are no emergency rations.  A table is set with linen and china.  A bottle of champagne.  The attention to detail is evident.  Bread and cheese are elevated to celebratory status and so it is with the rest of the film which, thanks to magnificent performances from Blanc, Bellucci and especially Auteuil, is so much more than the sum of it’s parts.

I really enjoyed it.

P.S.  This may just be the most pretentious thing I’ve ever written.

When Gluttony and Sloth Just Aren’t Enough Any More.

The Vatican has added a list of 7 modern mortal sins to its original 7 deadly sins.  Apparently, people aren’t attending confession like they used to and this update is intended to get people flooding back to the confessional  in droves (??!!)

Two of the “new” sins are:

Inflicting poverty

and

Accumulating excessive wealth

Anyone care to add an 8th sin?  Hypocrisy, perhaps…?

(S)he* Came In Through The Livingroom Window

I’ve been trying to think of a way to make light of something that happened chez Klein on Friday night.  But I can’t.  I’m just so bloody angry about it.

While Brian and I were out with Daisy and her Swedish guest on Friday (we’d taken them for ice-cream to a lovely old fashioned café and ice-cream parlour just outside Edinburgh) some thieving scrote** broke into our house and stole Daisy’s ipod and Brian’s  camera (plus lenses, filters, memory cards, new camera bag etc).  The only consolation*** was that the wallet of mine that he stole was full of old store cards and the kids’ library cards (which someone found near the house and returned!)  Add to this an inefficient, couldn’t-care-less attitude from the insurance company (yes, Royal Bank of Scotland I’m talking about you), window repairers who didn’t appear as promised on Saturday, then, it turned out, couldn’t be contacted ’til Monday and you have the perfect recipe for a less than jolly weekend.  On top of this we have the added embarrassment of this happening while we were playing host to a guest from abroad. 

It would be fair to say that I am pissed off.

 * No sexual stereotyping here.

** Hmm, can “scrote” be applied to a female?

***Actually, there was more than one.  The fingerprint guys got two nice clear prints off our front window.  Here’s hoping they find a match for them.

UPDATE:  It appears that Daisy’s school bag was also stolen.  She’s lost all her English and Modern Studies folders and notes.  The bag itself is grotty – broken zip on the front pocket, strap coming loose and shredded lining.

Now I want to hurt the person who did this just for the distress they’ve caused my child.

Confessions Of A Window Cleaner*

1) I have NEVER cleaned all the windows in my house in one go.

2) There is one, very small, window in our hall which, for economic reasons, wasn’t replaced when we double glazed the rest of the house.  I have NEVER washed that window (until now).  We have lived in the house for 15 years.

3) Not so much a confession this one, more of an observation.  Using the imminent arrival of a visitor as your motivation for cleaning windows is less than ideal, unless you entertain house guests on a weekly or fortnightly basis.  If you do, you are probably running a bed and breakfast.

4) Waiting until your windows are opaque is also less than ideal.

We have a Swedish exchange student staying with us for a week.  She is a lovely girl and, naturally, speaks great English.  For my part, I can honestly say that, should she wish to eat her dinner off a window pane, I can offer her a modest selection from which to choose.  Until this eventuality arises I shall enjoy the novelty of walking past windows that now come with a view.

In other news:  Ruth Kelly has announced a package of measures to ease traffic congestion.  There is no mention of introducing a national road-pricing scheme, presumably because it proved to be so unpopular with the public last year.  Whatever next?  “Income tax – unpopular with working adults”  headline shocker?

* A desperate and frankly unoriginal attempt to make my life sound more exciting than it actually is.

 UPDATE: Have just finished watching the first episode of “A Year in Tibet” on BBC 4.  Those monks hadn’t cleaned their temple (windows included) for 20 years!

I feel an imminent conversion to Buddhism coming on…