As daft as this is, and as annoying as I found a good deal of it, it almost/kind of comes good in the end. Just about.
I think I’m realising that whilst some films from this era have aged superbly (from Kind Hearts & Coronets to Went The Day Well?, plucking just two from the aether), others haven’t. And the comedies of the Boultings quite often, it seems to me, to fall into this latter category.
Ian Carmichael plays the titular role, and is a teacher …
I love being out and about in the countryside. It’s refreshing and exhilarating in a way that being stuck indoors simply can’t compete with.
On this day, I encountered several interesting buildings, inc several churches. First up was St Mary’s at Reed, a rather small and homely slightly out of the way little church. I love the quiet peaceful location.
Inside the church, folk were busy working. I wonder, do the chalked letters on the door mean it’s being restored? Are they carpenter’s marks? Note the damage to panel B+.
I should’ve taken more pics, I guess. But the presence of the guys working kind of put me off. They appear to be working on the organ. The organ is the other end of the church (behind me, in the above pic). They’re working the other end cause there’s more room to manoeuvre there.
It was a bit too busy and messy to get good pics inside, with all that was going on. So this was a very brief stop. Plus, in all honesty, there was t a huge amount of interest. I’d like to visit again. When the church is otherwise empty. See if that impression is correct or erroneous.
The fabric of St Mary’s is, like many churches, a right ol’ patchwork. Most notably there the dark patch atop the tower.
In the course of my travels I’ve taken to stopping and investigating churches. And the more I do it. The more I love these old buildings.
As a non-believer, in either religion more generally or Christianity in particular, there’s a strange tension in there somewhere. Or perhaps I just say that?
Truth be told, when I visit churches there’s no tension whatsoever. Usually instead a sense of exaltation. Which, I suppose, is something they were, at least in part, intended to evoke?
All Saints in Polebrook has some very nice stained glass. And I’m always drawn to ‘the lights’, as they’re sometimes referred to.
And it’s not just the light through the stained glass, but the light in churches generally. Mind you, that has been materially affected by historical changes: if stained glass was torn out, during the Reformation or at some other time (possibly in more Puritan times (ECW or shortly after?), and replaced with plain glass, it changes the quality of illumination inside, naturally.
This glass is dated 1928. I wonder, is all the glass in here of that vintage? Or is it a more mixed bag? This one, below, for example, looks very different… not of a piece, so to speak.
Well, a closer look answers that question, the above is dedicated in 1981. Very recently indeed!
And, as ever, the windows draw attention to the thickness of the walls. What amazing buildings churches are.
Two extraordinary lights, dedicated to Tev. Richard Hinds and Susannah Hatfield.
I’ve always found it odd how a religion that, in its secondary phase – i.e. New Testicle – professes for the most part to be a more pacifist ‘turn the other cheek’ type affair (never mind old Testicle exhortations, such as Thou shalt not kill), cosies up to the State and Power, and I’m particularly vexed by this in relation to war.
And Polebrook, abd one assumes the church, as part of that, has very strong very recent martial connections, with the WWII creation of RAF Polebrook, and the presence of the (?) Bomber Group. As it happens, I’m adding this blog entry retrospectively, whilst watching Masters of The Air on Apple TV, making this a very resonant theme for me, right now.
On leaving the church, and getting out into the countryside, it was a crisp and beautiful winter day, with partly clear and partly clouded – and rather dramatically so – skies.
I love the above pano’. And yet, as is so often the case, the rather puny camera on my iPhone fails to capture the awesome if rather empty grandeur of such simple yet sublime moments.
Whilst out and about today I passed this magnificent thing. Had to stop to admire and get a few snaps. Rather a dull almost monochrome January day. But still a very exciting thing to contemplate.
There’s a wee bit of work going on on the site. You ca can see disturbed soil, and taped metal ‘pins’. And empty concrete plinths. Are these for benches/seating? They should be. You get fab views up here.
I note that there’s a website, and that, so they say, you can book personal visits. I’d like that! It’d be nice to see the insides; if they’re as impressive as the exterior, what a treat that’d be.
Note the turning circle. And the great view.
The windmill is nicely situated on an eminence, overlooking a large vista, and a shallow valley. The view is great. I should’ve snapped a pano’ from the hilltop. But it was rather a dull day.
Well, January 17th, ‘24, was a great day! Not just one nice interesting old church. Nor the added bonus of two, or even three such edifi… but four!!!!
So rather than cover all four in one go – oh, and there was the Gt. Chishill windmill, as well (and beautiful skies and landscapes; good day!) – I’m giving several parts of this rich day their own separate entries.
Not quite sure why. But I didn’t take many pics inside. I was going to say that’s cause it was locked up. and I think it was. Yet the above photo suggests otherwise. Hmm!?
A little later in the day I came upon St Margaret of Antioch, in Barley (what a lively and for an English village!). She was, as you’ll see, most definitely open.
There’s so much in this church, by way of fascinating eccentricities and beautiful details. A dictionary definition of an embarrassment of riches.
Sometimes the effects of the vandalism of bygone ages can have, by accident as well as design, pleasing results. The above window, which I suspect recycles remnants of a formerly far richer window, winds up having a pleasingly simplistic almost rustic minimalism.
The above picture caption refers to a Miles Davis album, that’s also a ‘motion picture soundtrack’ (Ascenseur pour l’échafaud). Of course it’s not the steps to the gallows (or guillotine!), but steps to the church tower, as made clear by the bell-ropes.
There are lots of absolutely gorgeous buildings near St Marge. Here are a few snaps of just some of them.
This one, above and below, is particularly unusual, with the covered stairways.
And to finish, this over the road metal sign, a fox n’ hounds motif, belonging to a pub of that name (or some close variant?). A bit of decorative presumption, bordering on. neighbourhood vandalism, that I doubt one could get away with nowadays. But it certainly gives the location extra character.
It’s an all metal thing, on an I-beam profile. So probably not that old? Not also the old-fashioned ‘Werther’s Originals’ colour scheme of Richmond’s Coaches!
I’m trying what is, to me, a new feature, the Gallery Block, in the WordPress blog builder app. A lot of my posts are picture heavy things on churches, or whatever. And with the normal editor I have to input every image separately. This allows me to upload a whole suite of pics in one go. I should’ve twigged this ages ago!
Having finally cottoned on to this feature, I’ll have to go through a load of old posts, updating them, methinks!
The light behind these seed heads was utterly spellbinding. These photos do the subject little to no justice, alas.
Well, we went to the Cineworld complex, on the edge of Ely, yesterday, and watched Ridley Scott’s new film, Napoleon.
Released in the UK on 22nd November, and running just short of two hours and forty minutes, it finds the director returning to the same era in which his first feature film, The Duellists, was set.
Apparently, thus far, it is set to ‘break even’, fairly soon. However, the screening we saw was very poorly attended. The room was practically empty. Most of the folk at the cinema complex – and it was pretty busy overall – were there to see Wonka. A reflection of the shallow vapid times we live in? I reckon so.
Without recapitulating the story – Napoleon’s life and the era that bears his name are a source of endless historical and fictional telling and re-telling, as this movie helps demonstrate – I’m going to get straight to the heart of the issue.
There are two chief problems with Scott’s film:
First, unlike the ‘Little Boney’ of Georgian propaganda (who was in fact simply of average height for his time) it really is way too short. You simply cannot tell a story of the scope and grandeur Napoleon’s life entails in the time this movie allocates.
Boney and Josey, at his Coro’ bash.
Even in longer series – from the numerous War & Peace adaptations, to Ian Holm’s Napoleon & Love – the amount of ‘exposition’ any such brevity requires is anathema to engaging drama.
Second, historical accuracy. Legend has it that Napoleon said history is only lies that have been agreed upon. Others say that ‘history teaches nothing’. Well, I beg to differ, somewhat. We can learn from history. And it can be nearer to or farther from genuine truth.
Such disservice to the far more interesting reality, and also, more fundamentally and worryingly, the whole idea of ‘the quest for truth’, is significant.
The catalogue of egregious messing with historical verité is massive. From the vandalism of Egyptian archaeology, to his relationship with Josephine, and even the ways in which he fought his battles, there’s just way too much disrespect for reality.
This is a fab shot.
Let’s just unpack a few of these…
I’ll start with Bonaparte in Egypt. It’s long been known that the Sphinx’s nose was missing long before Napoleon arrived en Egypte. Never mind the fact that the battle in which this fictional damage takes place actually occurred a significant distance away from the monuments in question.
Far from being a wrecking machine – although war does inevitably bring destruction – Napoleon was renowned for taking with him to Egypt not just a military expedition, but also a virtual army of so-called Savants. The respect for and interest in Egyptian history Napoleon and his compatriots had greatly enriched the field of ‘Egyptology’, and includes the discovery of the Rosetta Stone, whose deciphering would eventually be accomplished by another Frenchman, Jean-François Champollion.
Much worse than this, to my mind, however, is how Scott et al treat Napoleon’s relationship with Josephine. For starters, in reality she was older than him. Hence her inability – despite having had children with her previous husband – to bear Napoleon an heir.
Josephine, by Antoine-Jean Gros, c. 1809.
In my view the casting for this movie is not a strength. Staying with the Josephine thread, Vanessa Kirby is totally miscast. Billie Whitelaw, in her early 40s at the time, was a much better choice, for the TV series Napoleon And Love, back in the 1970s.
Even worse, we have Napoleon striking Josephine, during their divorce. Erm… nope. Didn’t happen! And yet worse still… can it get much worse? Napoleon returns from his exile on Elba, to fight what would become his last campaign, The Hundred Days, culminating in the epoch-ending Battle of Waterloo, on her account! What the absolute fuck!? She had actually been dead for over a year.
Sadly, and despite having respected historian of the era, Michael Broers, as ‘historical consultant’, Scott’s film plays so fast and loose with ‘truth’ as to very seriously impair the whole project. To wreck it, in point of fact.
I typed a whole other chunk about the military aspects of this film. But sadly WordPress and/or my home broadband (thanks, Virgin!) conspired to lose that for me. I’m not sure I can be arsed to rewrite it!
Gillray’s Maniac Ravings, 1803.
The British have, for the most part, had a very vexed relationship with Napoleon and historical accuracy. The dominant theme – he who pays the piper, and all that – as expressed in the Gillray print above, has been to caricature ‘Boney’ as a short-arse power-mad despot.
Does this film help remedy this historic litany of ahistorical Ancien Regime style propaganda? Alas, no.
Despite this rather damning account from me here, I may well watch this film again. In the perhaps forlorn hope that, on a second viewing, I might enjoy it more.
I just booked tickets for this new Ridley Scott Movie. Anyone who knows me at all well will know I’m a bit of a Napoleonic history nutter.
Ridley Scott’s first film feature movie was the wonderful The Duellists*, released in 1977. This is far and away my favourite Scott movie, so far. Yes, Alien and Gladiator are brilliant entertainment. But The Duellists is a work of art and love that the directors’ more commercial movies fail to match.
* Based on a Joseph Conrad short story, which in turn was based on a real life story.
Scott directs Keith Carradine and Harvey Keitel, on set, in The Duellists.
So… Scott is returning, it would appear, to a true personal passion. Will this translate into a movie that might equal or outdo his earlier foray into this most exciting and colourful era?
He now has, thanks to modern digital technology, the ability to recreate epic scenes that he didn’t have, back when he started out. Will this enhance the end product?
Napoleon Crossing the Alps, by J. L. David.
One imagines that it must inevitably do so. But modern cinema as a whole illustrates perfectly, to me at any rate, that grand spectacle alone can very often and very easily be utterly empty and meaningless.
Napoleon, as David portrayed him, circa 1811.
The casting is obviously massively important. Will Joaquin Phoenix cut it? I guess we’ll find out fairly soon. How will they deal with the transition from the lean and hungry youth, to corpulent and balding ‘little corporal’?
The younger Boney, en Égypte.
From the numerous stills I’ve scene, and the simple one word title, one assumes this movie will attempt to tell most of all of the subject’s story. That’s a mammoth undertaking! One that has defeated everyone from Thomas Hardy (with his massive ‘unstageable’ play, The Dynasts), in the 19th C., to Abel Gance and Stanley Kubrick, in the 20th.
Albert Dieudonné as the young Boney, in Gance’s 1927 film.
Gance famously blew his entire budget – intending a complete six-part telling of Napoleon’s life – only getting as far as the first instalment (youth and the conquest of Italy), and making a film almost as hard show or to watch as it was to make.
Kubrick, meanwhile, assembled an incredible preparatory archive – subsequently published in book form by Taschen, something that surely Ridley Scott will have drawn upon? – yet failed to make the film itself.
Taschen’s book on Kubrick’s unfinished work.
Checking in on the latter reveals that Spielberg and HBO might be planning to complete this. Read more about that tantalising possibility here.
I have to confess, I’m equal parts excited and trepidatious about the prospect of actually seeing this film, which I’ve been aware of for about a year or so now.