Although I know I'm in the minority, I felt that this film needed more gags, better use of supporting characters and less slow-moving hanging around. I couldn't help feeling like Anderson must have been told one too many times that he was a genius, and decided to just follow his instincts rather than filmmaking logic as a result...
Here's the thing though: all of the awkwardness, the distance, the coldness and initial confusion goes out of the window the second they start playing. With a rhythm section that possesses you from the waist down with all of the force of an old Motown outfit, you can't help but be mesmerised by the musicianship on show.
The London Underground. It's dusty, it's grimy and it's full of people's body odours that I care not to sample. If i wanted your armpit shoved up against my chin, i'd be in a relationship with you. Then there are the breed of people who think it's acceptable to eat curries/pasties/burgers in such a confined place. This was my horrific experience recently:
It's a good job Forrest Reid didn't write to be famous. Almost seventy years after his death, his novels gather dust in libraries: unthumbed and unadmired. Highly thought of by friends like E.M. Forster and Walter de la Mare during his lifetime, the Ulster writer has since fallen into obscurity. Until now, that is.
The reign of Richard III provides the historian with an endless minefield of possibilities. From his loyal service to the house of York, through the dramatic events of 1483, which saw the executions of his family and allies, the removal of his nephew from the throne and his own coronation, events will continue to divide those who remain fascinated by this enigma of a man.