Awww, no more episodes of The Mentalist for me for a while as Channel 5 just screened the finale of season one. I will miss my little Thursday night show - I still hope they can give Simon Baker & the gang a little more to do next season. This finale only underlines the fact that for me the show is much more effective when his character is called upon to do more than to drift through any given episode amusing himself with his own cleverness. Which is cute enough but it sort of means we tend to get the same episode over and over again, structurally. The reminder of the depths of Patrick's obsession with catching Red John if nothing else allows us to see more of Simon Baker's acting range which is impressive. ( mentalist s1 spoiler )

I also rewatched The King Of Comedy for the first time in nearly 15 years - frightening that from thinking it  frankly unrealistic even as a satire when I saw it way back when, it now seems distinctly plausible. I don't know if its just the movie was ahead of its time but I remember also thinking back in the early 90s that emotionally, the movie was slightly less than the sum of its parts - two astonishing acting turns (De Niro & Jerry Lewis) being deployed in a film that had nothing profound or fresh to say. Watching it today in this era of reality shows, it not only seems prescient but in the case of Lewis' performance, almost unbearably personal.   I was fascinated for example to learn that over and above the many obvious parallels with his real life that one of the most shocking little moments we see, the little old lady who moves from worship, through to begging for a favour, to finally screaming "[he] should only GET CANCER!" was drawn from an ugly incident from his own life. Watching the film all those years ago, I thought his character was cold, aloof. Watching it now, I see it isn't so much that he isn't, but rather how unfair that he was obliged to be anything over and above what he was, when all he wants is to be left alone. And yet usually the persecuted star in a stalker drama IS a deeply likeable, sympathetic person - KoC is refreshing and brave in this regard. When Lewis spits that he was this ruthless BEFORE he was famous he not only sounds exasperated and spiteful but utterly sincere. Lewis really is spectacular in this movie - ( small spoiler for The King Of Comedy )

I'd be remiss not to mention Robert De Niro. In a way, he's an actor I always take for granted somehow but he is STUNNING in this film. Maybe it is just my own fears, but somehow a role like this which requires the shedding of all dignity to look a fool would be worse than the brutal roles. The usual description is to say you watch through your hands, but there's a couple of scenes where I just watched in rapt admiration for the bravery of the performance. Amazing.

The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie was on ITV this afternoon. It's one of the few films that I enjoy (in its way) as much as the novel from which it has been adapted. It might lose Muriel Spark's deeply unsettling non-linear structure (For instance, during a miserable school lesson for one of the girls, Spark hauntingly remarks how in the future, she is doomed to die in a hotel fire). but it gains an astonishing performance by Maggie Smith as the title role - a fiery teacher dedicating her life to teaching her ideals to her pupils at high cost. Actually, everyone is good in this - Celia Johnson especially takes a great turn as the unglamorous School Headmistress, resentful of Miss Brodie's poise and individual style. And Pamela Franklin is wonderful as Sandy, her nemesis (I see she was also Flora in "The Innocents")
I love is that all of the characters are lost to their own true motivations - it actually makes it a little hard to know what we are supposed to think of Jean. As in The Caine Mutiny, I get the distinct impression that the audience is being allowed its cake and also to eat it. We are encouraged to think Miss Brodie is deeply misguided and therefore wish to see her stopped. But we are also then encouraged to see her downfall as a triumph by the Squares over the Rebel, conformity over individuality.

I saw Leatherheads, the George Clooney romantic comedy. I’d heard quite poor reviews o it is possible that my lowered expectations were partially responsible for the fact that I quite enjoyed it. For those who haven’t seen it or read many of the reviews, it follows the fortunes of “Dodge Connolly (Clooney) in 1925 as he tries to establish the pro Football league. Renee Zellweger plays his foil, a reporter trying to uncover the truth about the past of Connolly’s teammate, supposed War Hero and star draw. At times gets a bit bogged down. The third quarter especially drags a little, as if suddenly unsure of just what type of movie is being made (sports movie or romance?) And Lexie’s (Zellweger) dilemma of whether to reveal the truth about the War Hero is given insufficient emotional weight, the resolution of which quickly diminishes her involvement at all and drags on for too long.

It’s being promoted as a successor the 1940s fast talking, screwball comedies of Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell. However, the sepia ‘look’ of the film (everyone except Renee seems to wear nothing but browns) and the jazzy Randy Newman score is more evocative of the loving nostalgia showcased in The Sting.  The theme and plot reminded me of it too – that notion of using craftiness, bluff and guts to get ahead in a tough world where the odds are stacked against you. A sense of strength and determination achieved out of desperation.  Odd that this angle is stressed in a film notionally set in the Jazz Age, an era usually depicted on screen as nothing but fun, laughter and wall-to-wall flappers. 

Though we have the obligatory speak-easy (complete with police raid), the movie shows us that without their football, many of the participants would be in desperate situations. In some instances it’s financially (in an early scene Dodge seems as surprised and uneasy as the unemployment officer that he has acquired no other marketable skills). In other cases it’ spiritual (we see team members returning glumly to jobs down mines and in darkly lit factories). In one poignant case the team represents a route out of loneliness. The stolid High School player forlornly returns to his home and gets off at a deserted train platform – there is apparently no-one who cares enough to see him return home. It’s an interesting angle and I’d have liked to see it explored further, how the team probably functioned in some instances as a substitute family and in others a much needed source of excitement.