Bad Hair, Great Golf

Britain melts in a moment of heat - for the first time we have red weather warnings because of the extreme temperatures. I endured an uncomfortable drive back from Mon this morning because my ageing SUV has knackered air-conditioning. Air conditioning - one of those toys that used to be seen as a luxury but which we can now see as a necessity. The drought of 1976 seems a long time ago. I sat my 'O' levels that summer and we had to wear full school uniform, blazer included. But we were, as Monty Python observed, happy. I bet the exam room was a bit whiffy though - all that adolescent sweat in an age when deodorants were far from ubiquitous.  

So who has the bad hair? That would be Cameron Smith whose barnet even the Donald might deem inelegant. But, wow, the way Smith dismantled St. Andrews to win the Open was magnificent. I doubt he is troubled by my criticism of his coiffure. I hope he can find it in himself to turn down the Saudi/LIV Golf millions that are inevitably being promised to him but one has to doubt it. A pity - the last four days demonstrated that championship golf is played over seventy-two holes with a half-way cut and a one tee start.

Once the golf was over I watched Joker. This is a difficut film, one that divided the critics. My turn now. It is a super-villain origin story and is decidedly not for the kids. Quite rightly it carries an 18 certificate. 1980's Gotham is putrefying under the weight of its uncollected garbage and collapsing morally under the burden of societal divisions. From this cess-pit crawls Arthur Fleck, who is to become Joker. The film makes some bad decisions and its debts to Scorsese's Taxi Driver and King of Comedy can be distracting. However as a study of psychosis I found it compelling and Joaquin Phoenix in the lead is never less than magnificent - skeletal thin and fuelled by a diet of nicotine and hatred, he populates the film with a worrying meaning. The ending is enigmatic. Joker 2? Part of me hopes not but apparently I am wrong. 73/100.