Category: Uncategorised

6

• James Bond – The Spy Who Loved Me, 1977
• James Bond – Moonraker, 1979
• James Bond – For Your Eyes Only, 1981
• James Bond – Octopussy, 1983
• James Bond – On Her Majesty’s SS, 1969
• James Bond – Never Say Never Again, 1983
• Jim Jarmusch – Stranger Than Paradise, 1984
• Jim Jarmusch – Down By Law, 1986
• Jim Jarmusch – Mystery Train, 1989
• Jim Jarmusch – Dead Man, 1995
• Jim Jarmusch – The Limits of Control, 2009
• King Kong, 2005
• Kinsey, 2004
• Koyaanisqatsi/Powaqqatsi, 1982/1988
• Last Exit to Brooklyn, 1989
• Lincoln, 2012
• Lord of the Rings (Bakshi), 1978
• Lord of the Rings (Jackson trilogy), 2001
• Marco Polo (TV series), 1982
• Mars Attacks, 1996
• Martin, Steve – Dead men Don’t Wear Plaid, 1982

7

• Martin, Steve – The Jerk, 1979
• Martin, Steve – Roxanne, 1987
• Monty Python – Life of Brian, 1979
• Monty Python – Meaning of Life, 1983
• Moulin Rouge, 1952
• Moulin Rouge, 2001
• Mrs Brown, 1996
• Muhammad Ali, 2002
• Mummy, The, 1999
• Mystery Men, 1999
• Nacho Libre, 2006
• Odessa File, The, 1974
• One From The Heart, 1981
• Our Man in Havana, 1959
• Perfume, 2006
• Pollock, 2000
• Pulp Fiction, 1994
• Radio On, 1979
• Rambo, 2008
• Ran, 1985
• Ride With the Devil, 1999
• Santa Sangre, 1989
• Schwarzenegger – Commando, 1985
• Schwarzenegger – Conan the Barbarian, 1982

8

• Schwarzenegger – Predator, 1987
• Schwarzenegger – The 6th Day, 2000
• Schwarzenegger – Terminator, 1984
• Sellers, Peter – Wrong Arm of the Law, 1963
• Sellers, Peter – Never Let Go, 1960
• Sellers, Peter – Soft Beds, Hard Battles, 1974
• Sellers, Peter – I’m Alright Jack, 1959
• Sellers, Peter – The Mouse That Roared, 1959
• Sellers, Peter – The Party, 1968
• Sellers, Peter – The Pink Panther, 1963
• Sellers, Peter – The Return of the Pink Panther, 1975
• Sellers, Peter – A Shot in the Dark, 1964
• Sellers, Peter – The Pink Panther Strikes Again, 1976
• Sellers, Peter – On The Trail of the Pink Panther, 1982
• See No Evil, Hear No Evil, 1989
• Selling Hitler (TV series), 1991
• Seven Samurai, 1954
• Shakespeare In Love, 1998
• Silent Running, 1972
• Spartacus, 1960
• Spider Man, 2002
• Spider Man 2, 2004
• Spinal Tap, 1984
• Stir Crazy, 1980

9

• Star Wars – New Hope, 1977
• Star Wars – Empire Strikes Back, 1980
• Star Wars – Return of the Jedi, 1983
• Star Wars – Bonus material, 2004
• Straight Story, The, 1999
• Stuck On You, 2003
• Super Fly, 1972
• Superman I, 1978
• Superman II, 1980
• Superman III, 1983
• Tintin & the Golden Fleece, 1961
• Tintin (cartoons) [5 discs], 1991-2
• Tipping the Velvet (TV series?), 2002
• Topsy Turvy, 1999
• Tropic Thunder, 2008
• Twelve Monkeys, 1995
• Vanity Fair, 2004
• Vanity Fair (TV series), 1998
• War & Peace (TV series), 2016?
• War & Peace (TV series), 1972
• War of the Worlds, 2005

10

• Warrior, 2001
• Weeping Camel, 2003
• Welles, Orson – Citizen Kane, 1941
• Welles, Orson – A Man For All Seasons, 1966
• Welles, Orson – Waterloo, 1970
• Welles, Orson – The Lady From Shanghai, 1947
• Wenders, Wim – Kings of the Road, 1976
• Wenders, Wim – Paris Texas, 1984
• West Side Story, 1961
• What Happened to Kerouac? 1986
• When Harry Met Sally, 1989
• Withnail & I, 1987
• Woody Allen – Take The Money & Run, 1969
• Woody Allen – Bananas, 1971
• Woody Allen – Everything… 1972
• Woody Allen – Play It Again, Sam, 1972
• Woody Allen – Sleeper, 1973
• Woody Allen – Love & Death, 1975
• Woody Allen – The Front, 1976
• Woody Allen – Annie Hall, 1977
• Woody Allen – Interiors, 1978
• Woody Allen – Manhattan, 1979
• Woody Allen – Stardust Memories, 1980
• Woody Allen – A Midsummer Night’s Sex Comedy, 1982
• Woody Allen – Zelig, 1983
• Woody Allen – The Purple Rose of Cairo, 1985

11

• Woody Allen – Broadway Danny Rose, 1984
• Woody Allen – Hannah & her Sisters, 1986
• Woody Allen – Radio Days, 1987
• Woody Allen – September, 1987
• Woody Allen – Another Woman, 1988
• Woody Allen (et al) – New York Stories, 1989
• Woody Allen – Crimes & Misdemeanours, 1989
• Woody Allen – Scenes From A Mall, 1991
• Woody Allen – Shadows & Fog, 1991
• Woody Allen – Alice, 1990
• Woody Allen – Husbands & Wives, 1992
• Woody Allen – Manhattan Murder Mystery, 1993
• Woody Allen – Bullets Over Broadway, 1994
• Woody Allen – Mighty Aphrodite, 1095
• Woody Allen – Everyone Says I Love You, 1996
• Woody Allen – Deconstructing Harry, 1997
• Woody Allen – Celebrity, 1998
• Woody Allen – Sweet & Lowdown, 1999
• Woody Allen – Curse of the Jade Scorpion, 2001
• Woody Allen – Anything Else, 2003
• Woody Allen – Melinda & Melinda, 2004
• Woody Allen – Match Point, 2005
• Woody Allen – Cassandra’s Dream, 2007
• Woody Allen – Vicky Cristina Barcelona, 2008
• Woody Allen – Whatever Works, 2009
• Woody Allen – You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger, 2010
• Woody Allen – Midnight in Paris, 2011
• Woody Allen – Magic in the Moonlight, 2014
• Woody Allen – Café Society, 2016
• Woody Allen – A Documentary, 2012
• Young Victoria, 2009
• Zoolander, 2001

Other movie folders include several dedicated to war films, and some dedicated to comedy, documentaries and music, as separate categories. Folders 1-11 (probably twelve soonish?) are just general movies.

Boxed sets and individual/loose DVDs will also be getting catalogued. As soon as time allows!

Sorting the 11 folders I just did took a lot longer than anticipated. I started around 2-3pm, yesterday, and I’m just finishing now, at midday Sunday. And I’ve been working on it solid between those two times. I’d estimate it’s taken about 14-16 hours!!!

Anyone who knows me at all well will most likely know I’m vehemently anti-royalist. I’m with Tom Paine, who said ‘Monarchy is the Popery of government.’ That said, I’m watching the coronation.

As I’m typing this South African singer Pretty Yende has just finished singing ‘Sacred Fire’, by Sarah Class. What an apt surname for a such a day! Read more about Sarah here.

As a musician and music teacher, the fact that music has such a prominent and important role in this and all such similar ceremonies is a double edged sword. It shows how central music is to culture at large.

But in broader terms the UK’s musical culture is in a pretty bad place, as a result of Brexit, under-investnent in music education (esp’ in state schools), and the abject reign of crass commercialism on all fronts.

As a lover of history, and martial history, I have to confess I do love all the military pomp and splendour. But my historically aware and critical eyes also see the way it is used to maintain an oppressive status quo.

Anyway, back to an observation on the military parade: the ‘Blues & Royals’ owe their very powerful look to Napoleonic France. They adopted their cuirasses and shiny helms thanks to their role in defeating Boney’s heavy horse at Waterloo. This was itself a triumph of the ‘Ancien Regime’, fighting against French Republicanism (despite Nap’s attempts to convert to Imperial ‘legitimacy’). The Royalty and aristocracy of Europe (Oligarchies, in truth) didn’t want French Revolutionary ideals being exported.

The two horse drummers are, as ever, really impressive. Usually, at any rate. One of them wound up doing a rather awkward looking sideways shuffle, just as the cameras were on them. No mention was made of this gaffe. Indeed, Claire Balding was fulsome in her praise of these beasts and their riders.

And the music has switched to the Abbey’s organ, and a rather ridiculous Blackpool Pier sounding musical selection! What the heck was that? Rather bizarre and comical, for a coronation.

Now it’s gone into a rather gonzo reworking of Waltzing Matilda! Apparently Chucky chose a lot (maybe all?) of the music. Bonkers. Well, a bit of research reveals that the organ weirdness was the work of one Iain Farrington, and was called ‘Voices of the World’.

Balding has just acknowledged that Apollo, one of the drum horses, is giving his rider – who also has to drum, as well as guide his steed – a rather hard time!

Just snapped the above, on’t iPhone. It’s a rather dismal day. Overcast and raining lightly. On such a gloomy note, it might be time to turn to one of the less appealing facets of this show.

Thirty-six facial recognition cameras, made in China (and banned in government buildings, on security grounds!) are being deployed to help the forces of oppression deal with anyone who might dare to show their disapproval. Our slide towards a fascist police state continues.

You can read more about this here. But I think that link is very pro usage (poss’ it’s the company providing them?), so take their gloss on it with a bag or two of salt!

So, from salt, to sand. What’s that all about? Some are saying it’s to keep the horses from slipping. Others are saying it’s because of the appalling state of the UK’s roads; filling in potholes and making it all look slightly less shabby.

If it’s the former, then surely it should be uniform along all the route? and it very clearly isn’t. So it does rather suggest it might be the latter. Either way, it kind of draws attention to the fact something is a bit odd.

Out cometh the flumpets… parp!!!

So, a bit of a lacuna here, as I was busy wrapping presents for Teresa and Chester’s forth-coming birthdays. In the meantime we’ve moved from the procession from Buck House to Westminster Abbey, to the ceremony itself.

Jeez, High Anglican is so very obviously Catholicism-lite. They even have the papal style hats! The transparent evolution of religion that’s plainly on view here – despite being swaddled in mummery – makes a mockery of the idea there’s any inherent truth in religion.

And the bizarre professions of allegiance to Protestantism jar somewhat; a relic of the ECW, a failed attempt to be rid of monarchy.

The most offensive parts of this, with deep and horrific irony, tragically, are the hypocritical genuflections towards helping the meek and needy, and serving. Oh how the ruling elite do salve their consciences.

No amount of charity work by the ‘great and the good’ can ever make a rotten system that condemns so many to bleakly hopeless poverty-stricken lives better, let alone acceptable.

But wait, who’s footing the bull?

I’m going to leave that corrective typo (bull instead of bill) in place, as it’s a Freudian slip worthy of the occasion. John Q Public, of course. The same ‘commons’ of whom over 14 million currently live below the official poverty line. The same commons the rapine Tories are robbing blind every single day.

‘Zadok The Priest’ makes its inevitable entrance. The ironies here won’t be getting any mention: written by a German composer, only able to live and work in Britain thanks to a specially enacted law, about which the odious Rees-Mogg made risibly ignorant pro-Brexit remarks (revealing himself to be extremely dumb, despite his hugely expensive Etonian education), this Germanic expression enabled by ‘free’ European movement has now become a staple of modern Tory England, the acme of regressive backwards looking ignorance.

The smorgasbord of ‘inclusivity’ at such events is in stark contrast to the elitism actually practised by the wealthy. We now have a Byzantine choir, and earlier we had a very modern take on African choral singing.

I remember being struck by all of this when Harry and Meghan were married, shortly thereafter their relation with the rest of the royal family descending into a tabloid-baiting circus of awkwardness. Harry is here, but Meghan is home in California. How very inclusive.

And how’s this for tolerant inclusivity:

*Predictive text actually rendered ‘long lost’ as ‘king list’… oddly apt!

Anyway, as the Archbishop of Cranberry drones on, peaceful anti-monarchy protesters are being arrested. Their crime? Wanting a fairer society.

Lock ‘em up and throw away the key. Better yet, hang ‘em from traitor’s gate, and put their heads on spikes. That’s what real royalty would do. And did, back in the ‘good old days’.

See our doughy, er, doughty boys and gals in blue endorsing more Royal inclusivity in Toryland here.

For a gruesome reminder of what real Royal power used to look like, have a butchers at what is purported to be Oliver Cromwell’s decapitated noggin.

Cromwell died in 1658. His corpse (or perhaps someone else’s?) was dug up by the minions of Charles II, to be hung and decapitated, along with a certain John Bradshaw and one Henry Ireton.

Cromwell’s head (or whoever’s it was) remained on a twenty foot spike until 1684, when it was blown off in a gale. It then passed through various hands, before winding up at Cromwell’s alma mater, Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge.

Read more about the peregrinations and authenticity of ‘Cromwell’s head’ here.

Somewhat ironically our Virgin set-top box decided it had had enough, and switched itself off. Even Clare Balding admitted that, after the lengthy investiture of crowning, etc, the change to a parade was ‘a bit of relief’.

And on it goes…

The military segment rumbles on, now in the garden of Buckingham Palace. Poor old military man and commentator Greville welled up in tears contemplating and admiring it. The troops did look dapper, and did their bit with proper parade ground precision.

I understand the powerful appeal of all the pomp and ceremony. But what century are we living in? As historian David Olusoga just noted, there’s a contradiction here, between our everyday lives and culture, and this sort of shenanigans. Indeed, as Olusoga also said, it accentuates the contrast.

Hmmm… well, that’s nearing five solid hours of BBC bootlicki… er, I mean coverage. And I’m all coronation-ed out. Utterly exhausted. Can one imagine what it must’ve been like for someone in a bearskin busby carrying a sodden flag? At least they’re young and fighting fit. I’m older and more knackered… Phew! And it isn’t over yet.

I’m bailing now. Getting out while I can. Pimms and some strawberries and cream probably added to my tiredness. What a rigmarole!

Today was pretty weird. I had a counselling session at 10am. I barely managed to get myself out of bed in time to be there. So of course my counsellor was late. That figures.

Then whilst mid-session, some work comes in. I’m having to take this kind of drop of the hat stuff, to ensure some money comes in. That plays havoc with arrangements. Such as my meds being dropped off ‘pm’.

Naturally I get a call during my delivery route, asking where I am. I’m working. As and when I can. Fortunately my meds can be (and are) left with a kindly neighbour. It’s bit of a faff. But it gets sorted.

Back home, and straight into a bit of weeding in the garden. Take several buckets filled with nettles, numerous stings to remember them by, and other green garden waste, to the dump.

And then an interlude. A farewell to an era, perhaps? A need to be outdoors. Free for a brief spell. A pleasant respite from ‘purpose’. A beer and a smoke. And then back to reality.

With a (free!) tin bath strapped in the boot, and empty weed buckets, it’s back home for dinner. Teresa’s terrific. Where would I be without her? A lovely pasta meal ready. And she’s pleased about the work and the weeding, and even the tin bath!

A bit of TV: Fred Dibnah frothing over the golden age of steam, and a bit of 147 snooker action on YouTube. A Guinness and some pud? All good!

And then from tin baths to hot steaming watery baths. Ah, bliss. But I’ve burnt my neck, driving around delivering with the roof down. The cool drivers’ breeze means I don’t notice sunburn. Better start carrying sun block.

The nettle stings, quite vicious at the time, are all gone. Now the pain is sunburn and a headache. Beer and smokes, sun behind the wheel? Ok, so I’m paying with a mother of a headache.

But all things considered, todays’ pleasure pain balance has at least been not just tolerable, but slightly weighted towards the better end of things. And thank goodness.

And finally, bed. How I love bed at the moment. It’s a soft warm womb-like haven. And to be clean and warm, and a bit woozy from sunshine, booze, dinner and a hot bath? It outweighs sunburn and existential angst. At least for now!

*Not our old tin bath. I’ve seen folk selling these online, for £100-200+! I’ve half a mind to clean ours up (only a little; patina is good!), and see what we can get for it.

I was lucky enough to be sent a free review copy of this excellent book. I’ve actually had it quite a while now. I was initially somewhat chary of reading it, as it has the look of a self-published work.

And so, I believe, it is. Either that or it’s published by a small specialty publisher. Whatever the case may be, it is sometimes a bit like one might expect such works to be; a bit amateurish, and would’ve benefited from some firm but fair editing.

Having said all of that, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed it. Truth be told, it’s very well written, esp’ so for someone who isn’t primarily an author or writer, but a good ol’ U.S. of A. ‘flyboy’!

Many chapters start with Eager’s poems. And whilst they’re not Shakespeare or Longfellow, I think they’re a good inclusion, showing another facet to a military man many might’ve assumed could be lacking in sensitivity or artistic leanings.

Occasionally it’s a tad repetitive. And when Eager renders conversation, he does so – especially regarding his own ‘voice’ – in a somewhat stiffly formal manner. One suspects recorded transcripts of these moments might’ve been slightly less stuffy, or expository.

Having said that, Eager was the son of a high school principal, a good Boy Scout, and a military man, through and through. So there’s a slim chance, I suppose, that he really did talk as he renders himself here. But I really suspect not. His character comes across as too human. And sometimes his speech here is almost robotically leaden!

But the thing is, he lead a very interesting life. And he was, by the sounds of it (admittedly his own self-portrait) a pretty ‘good egg’, as we Brits might say.* The book itself was written at the urging of friends and family. And they also helped bring it completion in its current form.

How much it owes its interesting back and forth structure – it jumps around from youth to adulthood in a very engaging way – to Eager, and how much to later editorial interventions, I’m not sure. It’s a clever way to make the book more compelling, and works a treat.

We learn about what seems to have been a pretty idyllic all-American childhood, with trips to a cottage in the mountains (built by his father and others). And then how he managed to get himself enrolled on a unique flying course, before the war brought America into the fight.

We learn about his family. And early romances. There’s even a very funny bit about a teacher he’s fond of and a fart in her classroom that she mis attributes to poor young Dick! And then there’s a really touching and moving bit about his dog, Judge.

All of this is woven into the more ‘officially’ significant story of how he wound up becoming Monty’s pilot, flying the victor of El Alamein around in a U.S. B-17 bomber converted into an airborne office-cum-taxi. But Richard Ernest (earnest and eager!) Evans’ life is ultimately fascinating for both his civilian and military experiences.

It’s supplemented by lots of pertinent photos, some very personal to Eager, some stock WWII ref, but still very relevant to the story this book tells. There’s also detailed ‘chronology’, lots of his correspondence, and a very useful glossary.

This truly excellent book tells the story of a very interesting and seemingly very decent man, living through extraordinary times. I’m not a military man myself (although I love military history). But nevertheless, Richard Evans, I salute you!

I’m writing this review as I near the end of the book. The vast majority of which is given over to childhood and young adulthood (I haven’t yet read the epilogue, which I suspect summarises some of the rest of his life). I’ve really enjoyed the read, and would definitely recommend it.

*He often refers to the various form of national linguistic peculiarities he encounters, serving in WWII alongside Canadians, Australian, Brits and his own fellow Americans.

At the time of first posting this, it’s really just an image dump. I’ve discovered that I really love the two Willem Van de Veldes – father and son – especially, perhaps, the Younger.

I hope to collect a gallery here, of as many of their works as I can. As both reference and inspiration. And then at some point I’ll start adding the pertinent info: attribution, title, year, and maybe even sources (for my images).

I’d like to make some copies of some of these paintings, in the fullness of time. I don’t see that happening all that soon, for various reasons. But hopefully it will eventually come to pass!

After our recent trip to the National Maritime Museum and Queen’s House, both parts of the Royal Museums Greenwich, I have a consuming passion for naval maritime painting.

I recently ordered a very cheap copy of The Art of the Van de Veldes, which arrived yesterday. I have to admit to being somewhat disappointed in this. It’s actually pretty decent, for what it is. But it’s far from what I really wanted.

This latest addition to my portfolio of interests has been brewing up a while now. I’ve had some great books from Pen & Sword, via some of their maritime imprints, such as Glasgow Museums, The Ship Models, and Warships of the Napoleonic Era, by Robert Gardiner (my review of the latter can be read here). Plus I had already acquired Naval Warfare in the Age of Sail, by Bernard Ireland, and one or two other titles in this line.

The issue, and it’s actually a very common one, especially with slightly older art books, is that there are only a very few colour images (and these are neither big nor very high quality), the bulk of the images being black and white.

As is so often the case, in this deeply capitalist society of ours, what I really want proves to be unaffordably expensive! This looks much more like what I’m after:

That said, and given the money folk are asking (mostly around the £300+ mark!) I’d want to be 100% sure these actually have lots of juicy high quality full-colour reproductions! And from what little info’ on them I’ve garnered online, I’m not sure that they do!

I want one of these T-shirts! I saw a guy wearing one, or something very like, at Salute, a couple of weekends back.

There are many Wicker Man T-shirts out there. But this is easily my favourite, thanks to this fab’ sun!

Most of the alternatives are not to my taste at all. Having said that, I don’t mind this one:

I made a cardboard sports car model during lockdown, pictured above. Just a bit of simple primitive fun. It wasn’t even a real car. Just a kind of amalgamated mix of classic sports car shapes/looks.

My dad recently bought me this book, which was nice (thanks, Pops!):

I wanted this book because I have fond memories of dad or I (or both of us!) making a card sports car of this type, from a crafting book, when I was a wee bairn. I thought it’d be nice to use it as ref’ for an adult revisitation of this kind of childish fun.

So that’s what I’m doing, whilst watching the Selby vs. Brecel final, on TV. I’ve selected a car I’ve never heard of before. The Pacey Hassan. And I’ve started working up ‘profiles’ (if that’s what you call ‘em?) to use in scaling up or down the overall shape.

I’ll probably transfer these sketches to my iMac. And then tidy them up a bit. For accuracies sake. I’m not being super anal about this. I’m going to keep it all basic and sketchy. We’re not aiming at a perfect replica. Just using this particular Bentley variant as an inspiration.

Wow! Brilliant.

With guest spots from Louis Cole and Candy Dulfer, and covers by The Dan and Stevie Wonder (Reeling In Years and Signed, Sealed, Delivered), this is a fabulous film of the Fearless Flyers in all their awesomely funky finery.

At just shy of an hour and a half, that’s quite a set. Esp’ considering it’s almost all instrumental – only Louis Cole’s viral original Bank Account having vocals – and the short form of most FF tunes as previously released via YouTube.

It’s such a wonderful distillation of music as pure joy. And it’s quite surprising and refreshing to realise that, despite the almost laser sharp focus on stripped down instrumental funkiness, it’s actually musically quite diverse.

From classic blooz to elements of heavy rock, psychedelia, and even garage psych (Running Man), the genre-splicing keeps the whole set fresh, despite almost no vocals, and the groove taking precedence over showboating or solos.

That said, all concerned are fabulous musicians. And each gets a turn or three in the spotlight. Unlike on quite a few of the FF YouTube tracks, there are no horns at all, except when Candy Dulfer guests, playing alto on Hero Town.

Cory Wong is the current undisputed King of ‘chicken scratch’. Mark Lettieri shines on baritone guitar, and brings both the rawk and some virtuoso fire. Joe Dart, well, we all know about the love he earns for his low register mastery (and Olympic neck-work!). And Nate Smith shows just how goddam fierce and funky a drummer can be with just kick, snare, and sock-cymbal (and some incredible hand percussion).

Both Louis Cole and Smith get solo drum spots. It’s really interesting – perhaps especially to a fellow drummer like me – to hear how much musical character each displays. Playing around with some similar ideas, on similar set ups, yet sounding so individual. Wonderful!

Have these guys (n’ gal[s]) been to these Benighted Isles? If so, how did I miss it? And if not… please come and shower us in funky goodness. Lord knows the UK needs some mojo right now!

I’m a big fan of Mark Selby. So it was extremely gratifying to watch him make the first ever maximum break in a Crucible final yesterday.

Cool as the proverbial cucumber, and despite trailing to his adversary, Luca Brecel, Selby negotiated the break with the quiet steady aplomb that is one his (several) trademark qualities.

Was that MC and überfan Rob Walker, shouting ‘get in’ when Mark potted the final and tricky last red, along the cushion, to keep the break going? It certainly sounded like him.

It was lovely to see Brecel and referee Brendan Moore hugging the jubilant Selby, afterwards. This particular 147 was a first on several fronts: the first in a Crucible final; at Brecel’s first time past the first round. And it’s ref’ Moore’s last Crucible final, making a hat-trick. A nice way to bow out!

Only Kyren Wilson might be unhappy about it, as he also scored a maximum, earlier in this Championship, and will now have to share the prize money with Selby.