17 August 2022

Where The Crawdads Sing.

I hadn't been to the cinema for a very long time, since covid began. Two of the family had read this book, and another had started it. I haven't read a novel for a number of years, films are quicker, although they don't necessarily say the same things as the author of the original book.

The audience in the Picky for this film was about 80 to 90% female, I felt slightly outnumbered, although of course that's nothing new. The Picky is comfortable and the screen and the sound very good.

Photo - Michele K. Short.

The Guardian did not especially like this film, although it gets 3*. Rotten Tomatoes really doesn't like it 31%, a bit better on IMDb with 7.1. Jojo Regina as the young Kya is excellent, and she's mostly suitably grubby as befits someone growing up uncared for in the 1960s in the swamps of Northern Carolina. The other performances are perfectly good, and apart from some truly terrible CGI in the opening sequence the cinematography and direction captures the time and the place, clearly a magical place, very well. But, everyone other than the young Kya, is far, far too clean with perfect clothes, perfect hair, impeccably turned out, when they are living in marshland, and some in poverty. And the story is rather like that, rather sanitised, tidy and improbable. On the plus side it is about a girl growing into a formidably powerful and self-assured woman, and it does engage with the idea of being on the outside of society, unaccepted and discriminated against. So, decent entertainment, addressing a few social issues on the periphery, and mostly beautifully filmed, but somewhat tidy and clean.


Not listening anymore.

There's a piece in today's Guardian about folk in their thirties not listening to music anymore. I scrolled through the comments as well. I'm a different generation of course but I think that does resonate. Whilst I have friends who are still very interested, some no longer care, ot at least, don't care as much.

 

https://www.theguardian.com/music/2022/aug/16/bring-that-beat-back-why-are-people-in-their-30s-giving-up-on-music

Music is a bit of a map of my life. For different times different music has strong associations. Right up to the present. I'll not get on a ferry without Bicep, Pihka is My Name or Caribou. Drive down the A9, Little Simz, and earlier in our lives here King Creosote and Mike Vass. This goes all the way back to Pink Floyd's Echoes and Embryo, listened to on John Peel's session back in September 1971, and even before that, Hole in My Show by Traffic in 1967, places me in Thorpness, in Suffolk, on holiday with my family; early Beatles, in my friend Keith's house in the Banstead suburbs, his sister playing the 45s.

https://www.pinkfloyd.com/home.php


Forty three years between these two fabulous albums.

 


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