Saw three great films this weekend – the first being Half Light, with Demi Moore in the well-played lead role as a writer grieving for her son. She goes to live on a remote Scottish island to write her book, only to be drawn into quite another kind of story when she learns that the dark and tastefully dishevelled lighthouse keeper she’s been spending time with has been dead for seven years.
The film wasn’t shot in Scotland at all, actually, but in Anglesey and Gwynedd in Wales, and in Cornwall. The lighting and use of colour throughout was beautifully done, and the story held my interest completely.
The Illusionist tells a clever tale of a stage entertainer. It’s a wonderful example of how people see what they want to see, and believe what they want to believe, and how the magician skilfully pulled the wool over their eyes whilst never telling even one lie. I won’t spoil the plot by saying more. This was an elegant and intelligent film, and if you’ve not seen it already then I recommend it.
The third film, and the only one which we viewed in a cinema, was the latest Harry Potter. Great fun! As often happens when a book is translated into film, much was left out. The film relied heavily on the “action” sections of the novel - but isn’t that what the popular audience love to see? A few scenes were edited too briskly for my liking, but maybe the director’s cut on the DVD will remedy that.
Yesterday’s unrelenting rain encouraged me to stick close to the computer and continue working on The Reluctant Monk. It stands at 884 words at the moment, though I’ll probably tweak the text two or three times yet. The story gives some previously unknown (unknown by me, too!) background information about my main Bad Guy, who features in my novel, Tamsin.
In the afternoon, I began working on a second short story, also intended for the Oxton ghost tours project. I was going to have one the of main characters as heavily tattooed, then I remembered our microscopic budget and the possibility that it might be raining on the night of its performance – an actor with dissolving fake tattoos might look a bit silly! Plus I’d given him a curly black 18th c. wig, which the prop department might not be able to find. So I scrapped that idea, and offered impressions of appearance rather than specifics, and what began to emerge was Spanish Jones, a Welsh privateer (or pirate, in plain language). The Dee Estuary was notorious for piracy, at one time. I have no idea how that story is going to finish yet. I’ll find out when I write it!
Richard always plays music while he’s getting ready for work each morning. I can gauge his mood by his choice of CD. If it’s Zak Wilde, he’s in a foul temper and is best avoided. If it’s Rush or Dream Theatre, he’s got a thousand things on his mind and not enough time to do them all. If he’s playing Bob Dylan or Billy Joel, he’s One Man Against the World. Or if he’s chosen Fairport Convention or Fleetwood Mac, all is well and it’s smiles all round.
This morning, he’s playing the soundtrack to The Rocky Horror Show.
Should I be worried?!!