Ben-Hur (1959)

The 1959 version of Ben-Hur is a cinematic event. Massive in scale and conception it could not, I venture, be made in the modern day. The vast crowd scenes could, of course, be carried-off quite competently using CGI and the chariot race could be even more visceral. But what would be missing would be the rather literary tone of the movie and what would intevene would be modish sensibilities. The film is therefore an impressive monument to an age of cinema that was already on its way out. I have seen it so often now that I can dip into and out of it quite happily every Christmas when it turns up on the schedules. The Groupie had never previously seen it in its entirety. The effort is worthwhile. 75/100.  

Water, Water Everywhere, And Rather A lot To Drink

The election campaign drags its weary way to the inevitability of a stonking Labour majority and the requirement for Starmer to make his mind up what he wants, other than merely wanting to win an election. Boring, boring, boring.

So let us turn to happier events. Last week the thirtieth edition of the QMT Golf Tour invaded the Worcestershire countryside. Thirty men of encroaching decrepitude over-enjoying themselves. Nothing could be further from boring. In summary, bloody brilliant. Big Fat Pig (fatter this week thanks to last week's over-indulgence) arrived with his golf game in relative disarray and the first day at Droitwich Golf Club did nothing to improve things. BFP self-prescribed alcohol as the answer and felt decidedly under the weather when he teed-off for the nine hole curtain raiser on day two. He played like a drunk for six holes but then found some form. The main championship was being played that afternoon and our hero again started badly. However he had a purple patch in mid-round and rose to the respectability of fifth place. We'll settle for that. The final day (after another late night) presented a Texas Scramble, always a nice way to warm down. I repeat, bloody brilliant. The two main days were spent at Bransford Golf Club. This can be highly recommended. Opened in 1990 it styles itself a Florida style course. There is a lot of water. There are six each of pars three, four and five. Great fun. Thanks to all who organised it. Bring on next year.

An Attack Of Ennui

I'm bored, bloody bored, and I think much of the country shares my feelings.

I am a political animal but never before have I found a General Election campaign so disspiriting. Can anybody actually tell me what Keir Starmer believes in? Has he undergone the most damascene of damescene conversions? Was he just telling a pack of lies when he so faithfully acted as lieutenant to that prize clown Jeremy Corbyn in the last election?

Can anybody actually tell me what Rishi Sunak believes in? He seems a nice enough bloke but is a prisoner of a party that has sold its soul to a bunch of amoral spivs. And talking of spivs, well that Nigel Farage is back on the scene. He is the only influential politician (I'm afraid I discount the Greens and the Liberals from this category) from whom you get honest unmediated answers. The problem is that his answers are so often on the nationalist side of fascist. Nor should we ignore the fact that he regards Donald Trump as a mate.

I'm bored, bloody bored.