6N Week 3

I've watched all three games this weekend and I've read the online reports and some message boards and, my oh my, don't people (journalists included) talk some bollocks.

Still there are few sights as amusing as a Welshman nursing a sense of grieveance. Bloody English referees. The Wales v France fixture was the pick of the weekend - furious, bloody and controversial. To my mind France were marginally the better side but they were running on fumes for the last quarter so it would have been no great injustice had Wales nicked it.

One Welsh player particularly catches the eye - for deeply contrasting reasons. I really rate Dan Biggar as a player and could never fathom Warren Gatland's penchant for dropping him. However, competence notwithstanding, Biggar really needs to be told to behave himself. He spends so much time in a mental stew that you are reminded of nothing so much as a McEnroe style rage for perfection. Silly boy. For his petulance we revive the Ronan O'Gara Gobshite Award and Biggar wins it hands down despite the spoilt antics of both Sexton and Farrell. Bloody backs.

Italy v Scotland was, I regret, second division stuff and you do fear for Itlay's unchallenged continuation in the tournament. On which score I fervently hope that the talk of expanding the tournament to include South Africa is utterly fanciful. It ain't broke (even allowing for the Italy question) so don't fix it.

Whereat England? The noise from the commentariat has it that England duffed Ireland up - by the underwhelming margin of twelve points. This hubristic English conclusion ignores the fact that England again selected no proper number eight and scored two of their three tries from comedic Irish defending. England were markedly better than Ireland but there reamain annoying weaknesses and there is also the painful problem of Eddie Jones who is deliberately behaving even more like a tit than before. Tiresome. And can somebody give me a reason why Jones took off his best player (Courtney Lawes) after an hour? Please don't give me that brain-dead guff about about bringing on 'finishers'.

One final complaint. The ITV coverage is now firmly established as better than that of the poor old BBC but hang your head in shame Martin Bayfield for the tone and content of your post-match interview of Sexton. There are good reasons why people hate the English.   

Toy Story IV

Those of you who have been with me on this meander through the blogosphere will know that I hold to the far from original view that the Toy Story sequence is brilliant, every one of the three previous instalments without exception. So after a lengthy interval since Part III, I came to IV with some trepidation. You simply don't want to spoil a good thing. The news? No need to worry. This too is an exceptionally good film - nice to look at, funny, charming, moving, romantic and wise. 9/10. The Groupie liked it too.

The Highwaymen; The Red Violin; The Report; The Favourite

Four films to be reviewed. So far as I can recall I have never considered Bonnie and Clyde on these pages but it is a film I have seen several times. Estimable judges (Roger Ebert included) place that film in the pantheon of greats. I am wary of disagreeing with as great an opinion as Ebert's but I will reluctantly beg to differ. The film is undoubtedly enthrallling and uber-stylish and maybe it's me being prissy but does it not give the two eponymous murderers too easy a ride? No? Oh well it must be me. Anyway we now have a lesser film (though a good one) The Highwaymen which serves an antidote to Arhur Penn's film. Kevin Costner and Woody Harrelson are reliably excellent as the two superannuated Texas Rangers who tracked down the Barrow Gang and administered their brutal execution. An aggregate of thirty-five thousand people attended the gangsters' funerals. I think all The Highwaymen is saying is, 'Go figure'. And as messages go that's a pretty good one. 7/10.

The Red Violin is a rather different kettle of fish. An ensemble piece it artfullly traces the history of a fabled and perfect musical instrument. We watched it on a Sunday afternoon and that feels like the right time to watch it. All sorts of stars flit across the screen - Greta Scacchi utterly predictably takes her clothes off, not that this is a demerit, merely old hat. In the end (and this I'm sure was the intention) it is the cultural artefact, the violin itself, that becomes the star of the piece. 7/10.

It was watching The Candidate with Dad the best part of fifty years ago that elicited from him the observation that America is at its best when washing its dirty laundry in public. This would become an even more salient analysis in the context of Watergate, the journalistic uncovering of which fuelled my desire to be a writer - oh well you can't win them all - for a writer I made a passably good lawyer. All of which brings me round slowly to The Report - a liberal telling of the shaming tale of American use of torture post 9/11 and the political conspiracy to cover it up. On the face of it this is not a cinematic story - we are subjected to some portrayals of the acts of political violence but most of the picture is about the process of investigation of those acts. Stick with it though, it's important. 7.5/10.

The Favourite worried me a little. At first I thought it was going to be a sort of souped-up version of The Draughtsman's Contract but after an initial infatuation with stylistic weirdness it picks up. However the ecstatic critical reaction to this film seems to me to have been all about the discovery by America that Olivia Colman is a superb actress. We have known this for years and this is not even her best work. A perfectly fine film but not deserving of all the ballyhoo. 7/10. 

Looking Forward

We gave Dad the send-off he deserved. The church was packed and the wake at Moor Hall was a joyous celebration of his life. Rugby, cricket and his various schools and universities were represented and we could forget for a while the degradations that dementia had visited upon him in the last years.

I had kept my grief under wraps until after the funeral but then unleashed myself on a self-destructive binge. On the agenda for this year is the tackling of my troubled relationship with alcohol. You will forgive me if I tackle that one in private. It's not big and it's not clever.

But what else looking forward? Well we are now out of the EU and so far as one can tell calamity has thus far been avoided. The Jeremiahs tell us that the catastrophe will come as we struggle to negotiate the terms to succeed those of the transitional period. We'll see. Anyway the remaining Union does not have its troubles to seek - even the economic behemoth that is Germany is experiencing some nationalistic political ructions. Meanwhile little Ireland has now cast its majority vote in favour of revolutionary socialists with a recent attachment to terrorists. Ireland is free to do as it pleases (or rather it will be allowed so far as its European paymasters permit) but please don't lecture us on the running of a sovereign state. We will make our own mistakes thank you.

Talking of mistakes, the political rumour-mill would have us believe that the Tories are considering a 'mansion tax' to help raise money for the infrastructure projects it intends. This is a tax on assets paid for out of already taxed resources. It was a favourite policy of St Vince of Twickenham - that should tell you all you need to know.

Joy of joys, the Six Nations tournament is upon us. I did not share my predictions with you this year but I can confirm that I had a small bet on France to win the title before the odds got too skinny. Some shrewdies were on at very nice prices. France has deep playing resources and they now have a sane head coach, not to mention a defence coach who may not be entirely sane but is very, very good.

What of England? Well, for a start I'm already pissed off with the Eddie Jones show. The pre-match psycho-babble is pathetic and I take it as a persoanl insult when a coach departs from the orthodoxy that No 8 is a specialist skill position. Tom Curry is a superb player but is not a No 8. England got away with it against Scotland but the Irish lie in wait and will be encouraged by the prospect of indecision at the base of English scrums. Jones' talk of a new philosophy for the position is merely bollocks.

It's good to be back.