First rain for eleven weeks: the lawn starts to revive

 

Rain at last. On the 27th August we had the first rain for eleven weeks. And it has rained a little every day since, so the borders are permanently damp, if that will actually help them revive.

The rain has certainly helped the lawn. I cut the grass yesterday for the first time in two months. Yes, there are lots of bare patches, but just to see a bit of green is progress. I thought it might be time to apply some more Pro Kleen Grass Green granules, but underneath the grass are the remains of those I applied at the beginning of June. so that saved me a job.

Somebody To Love

The main feature (with the title above) in this week's Sunday Times Magazine is an article written by Mary Austin, the long-time friend of Freddy Mercury. Although it is to publicise a new book called A Life in Lyrics, it is a fascinating story of their relationship told from her point of view.

There is also an interview with Mary about the book on the BBC iPlayer called Freddy Mercury's Fiancee to Release Book. 

The reason for my post is related to the places she describes where they lived together in Kensington. Mary says, "By January 1971 we'd moved into a tiny flat on Victoria Road, close to Kensington High Street." A stone's throw from Dad's shop, John Buckle. (See post 24th May 2009). Mary and Freddy then "moved to a small flat in Kensington, on Holland Road". Which I must have passed hundreds of times, mostly on the number 9 bus to school. 

Mary describes how in 1976 "We moved into a bigger maisonette on nearby Stafford Terrace." Just off Kensington High Street. When Mary moved out, Freddy had bought her a flat "round the corner in Phillimore Gardens" that overlooked Holland Park. Now a highly exclusive road. (See post 24th May 2009 again). 

Freddy's last house was Garden Lodge in Kensington, "walking distance from my flat". This was the beautiful mansion where he lived until he died in 1991. "He left me his cherished home. His sanctuary became mine."

Garden Lodge is on Logans Place, just off Earls Court Road and very close to St Philip's Church, which we attended on many occasions when we were young. 

The Lawn in August

 

The picture above was how the lawn looked in June. Then below is how it is today.

But it's not just our lawn. Even those large, immaculate front lawns at the end of Worlds End Lane are the same. We had a lot of rain at the beginning of June; my records show there was rain all morning on the 11th. But since then, only a very short shower on the 20th and a few spots one day in August that I didn't even bother to record. So basically two months without rain. There could be some next week, but I'm not holding my breath.

And on the last day of August, all the leaves from the silver birch are falling and covering the lawn. That seems far too early.

The ones at the far end have very few leaves left.

Canon IXUS 285 HS A

My Panasonic Lumix DMC-TZ6 camera is over seventeen years old. The shutter cover has bits fallen off, and the lens is scratched and marked. And it's too heavy to put in a pocket when out for a walk. So time to invest in a new compact, lightweight camera. Unfortunately the Panasonic cameras are now over £500, so I found an alternative at just £300: the Canon IXUS 285 HS. Lots on the internet, but only the odd one with the updated model with that A at the end.

Not only is the camera very light, but there is also the option of transferring photos to my laptop via the wifi button on the bottom left. However, the Canon instruction manual for precisely this model left a lot to be desired. It may be that the mechanics on my camera have been changed as I spent far too long on the process to pair it with my computer. In the end, I guessed using the menu button on the bottom right to input the camera ID number and my email address. I actually gave up yesterday, but with trial and error today, everything is working fine.   

There is a bit of a long process of transferring my photos from my Canon account to where I want them, but this might get quicker in the long run. There is an awful lot to find out what the camera can do, but I shall take this slowly. The point and shoot I'm using seems to be most of what I need. But the clarity of the pictures and using the zoom are fine. I will keep the old Panasonic as a spare.

Movies at Home: The Man Who Knew Too Much, Volver and The Boston Strangler

 

James Stewart, Doris Day and their son Hank, played by a young Christopher Olson, are in Marakesh in The Man Who Knew Too Much. This is Alfred Hitchcock remaking his 1934 film in 1956 with an altered plot. It just looks fantastic in colour, almost 3D in parts. Maybe because certain shots of the actors were superimposed on a screen of the city. I had seen the film some time ago (post 24th August 2020) but could not remember the plot until later on.

Stewart plays Dr Ben McKenna, and his wife, Jo Conway, is a popular singer. Cue Doris Day no less. When their son disappears, it's back to London (on a BEA flight!) where his kidnappers are plotting an assassination. The best part of the film is at their hotel when all their friends arrive, completely oblivious to their plight. A lot of film and TV makers should look at this film and see how it is completely understandable despite many twists and turns, rather than their overcomplicated plots. An assasin and some cymbals.

It was interesting to see the final part staged at The Royal Albert Hall. The orchestra there is conducted by Bernard Herrmann, who actually composed the score. Now we know why an orchestra is the backcloth to the credits at the beginning. 

Volver is another film I had seen before but did not recognise at all. One of Pedro Almodóvar's best. (See post 26th August 2020). One disaster after another, but it is Penelope Cruz who is superb, closely followed by Blanca Portillo and Yohana Cobo. The six main actresses deservedly shared the Palm d'Or at Cannes in 2006, and Cruz became the first Spanish actress to be nominated for a best actress Oscar. The film was also nominated as a best film in a foreign language at the same Academy Awards.

When the supposedly dead mother arrives, the film takes on a surrealist tone. But it all ends happily, and in the end, the film is all their about atonement. The director at the height of his powers.

I wasn't sure I wanted to see The Boston Strangler, but it was based around the reporters covering this evolving story. Keira Knightley and Carrie Coon are excellent as their investigations into multiple murders are gradually taken seriously. Both are very different women, but they get on really well together. They were the only reason I stuck with it, as the film itself is all a bit of a mess. It doesn't really know what it wants to be. The idea of following a reporter was fine, but the mix of her family life felt awkward. All the time we want to get back to the investigation and not lose the thread. 

The portrayal of the detectives in the case cast them as pretty inept, which they were not. All their criticism of Knightley seemed a bit ridiculous. The film then got somewhat complicated with the arrests and the disputed factual resolution. I think if it had stopped at the arrest, it would have made a better film. 

Dolly Parton RIP

 

I would never have posted about the passing of Dolly Parton if I had not seen the film Steel Magnolias only just over a week ago. Here is what I said then: "In the end it's Dolly Parton that I will remember. The glue that holds the thing together." Here she is in the picture with Julia Roberts.

As for her music, I would pick her best composition, I Will Always Love You, that big hit for Whitney Houston, and her best song, Islands in the Stream, written by the Bee Gees and recorded with Kenny Rogers.  

The End of Oak Street, Spa Weekend and Tony

In the absence of any intelligent movies during the summer holidays (except for The Odyssey, which I have already seen twice), I found The End of Oak Street. A typically strange fantasy family drama with added dinosaurs. A lot of running, chasing, and searching, and that's just these prehistoric creatures. Yes, and the parents and children too. The former are actually big stars in their own right. Goodness knows what Ewan McGregor and Anne Hathaway thought they were doing. They are almost unrecognisable. Their daughter was OK, but their son is such a pathetic creature. Poor child, he was written as this awful wimp. He's only happy with his dog and doesn't take much guessing what happens to him. 

Tom Shone in the Sunday Times describes this "Faustian rush in the Spielburg suburbs". It's straight out of the Twilight Zone as a brand new forest surrounds this block in suburban America. Complete with every kind of dinasoar who are not happy. Except, maybe for the one that found drinking from a pool to their taste. Maybe we can class this as a camp classic to go alongside Cocain Bear, Anaconda and lots of others. 

Again, I usually avoid films like Spa Weekend. The writers and directors Jon Lucas and Scott Moore are quite famous for movies such as The Hangover, which, I think, is into the third in the franchise. Lots more like this. But all you need to know about this film is in the poster. Here are three actresses that are quite familiar: Leslie Mann is the lead character, and she is very personable, as well as Isla Fisher and Anna Faris. The one I didn't know was Michelle Buteau. 

I have to say it was better than I had feared. There were only a couple of scenes that really grated and some gross incidents we could have done without. What I liked best were the scenes with just two people when there is some reasonable dialogue. The film obviously looked great; the setting of this luxury spa was a picture. But that introduction of the "fourth friend" was, I guess what the film needed, awful though she was. Thank goodness her early stupidity soon waned. 

There were some decent modern songs along the way. But looking at the soundtrack listings, I only knew Want You Back by Haim. 

Even this biopic of the soon-to-be-famous chef Anthony Bourdain does not feature in any of my Sight and Sound magazines, and I don't know why. In Tony he has no idea what he wants to do except write a best-selling book. He is only nineteen, but he has been rejected at college and, instead, hops on a ferry to Provincetown on Cape Cod, where the girl he wants to see is working. Emilia Jones is fine as the pretty Nancy. Dominic Sessa is excellent as this pretty awful youth who thinks he is far better than he is. He lies all the time to make an impression, making out he is really something when he is just a loser. Someone you would avoid at all costs.

When everything goes wrong, he ends up working in the kitchen of Antonio Banderos. Basically just washing up. We spend some time there with the other staff. Here there is Monica Raymund as Mary, an older waitress who seems to acknowledge something in Tony, but that is all. I thought something might develop, but it doesn't. We never know who she really is. When things go pear-shaped, at the kitchen and with Nancy, it seems to be all over. But at the end, he has learnt something from the chef, and some cooking on the beach makes an impression. So there is only a clue at the end that puts Tony on a path to his true vocation and life as a famous chef. The film is set in 1975, and the songs are all pretty familiar.

Tom Sone in the Sunday Times says, "We get fistfights and clambakes, black eyes, hangovers and the unforgettable sight of Banderas shooting a massive tuna with a shotgun from a boat, like a latter-day Captain Ahab. 

As to Provincetown, where nearly all of the movie is set, there will not be many people in the UK who see this film who will have been there. When we see Tony on the ferry from Boston, it is very cloudy, which it can be on Cape Cod. We actually drove to Provincetown from our hotel in Hyannis on that longish stretch with the sea on either side. We were there in May 2011, so that is fifteen years ago. I remember it being very quiet, not like it was in the film where it was so busy. These days it can get up to sixty thousand visitors. 

I remember sitting outside a cafe near the harbour waiting for our whale-watching sea adventure.