You know, I love arthouse films. International cinema. Films with subtitles. You name it. I'm a member of the glorious NFT on London's South Bank. The last film I went to see was the excellent Volver by the wonderful Almodovar.
Yes. Yes. Yes.
All this is well and good.
But, really, the brand new trailer for the next Bond film looks a bit jolly spiffing.
My. That is a big gun. Rock on, double-O. I think Casino Royale will be a blast.
If a blast is a bit too much, and you fancy more of a 'hoot', John Buchan's The 39 Steps is on at the Tricycle Theatre, away in Kilburn ("They said it was unstageable!" screams the poster).
It's at completely the other end of the spectrum. It carries the same look and feel as Hitchcock's classic first film version, but the stunning four-man (well, three-man and one-woman) cast play it completely for laughs - it's hysteriical. You cannot help but leave the theatre talking in the clipped, received pronunciation tones of 1930's BBC newsreaders. Fabulous. Rumour has it it is transferring to the west-end.
Hadn't been to the Tricycle Theatre before. It's great, and a good 'intimate' size. Although I was met with looks of withering disappointment when I suggested that the theatre, cinema and gallery venue was so-named because it was founded by three menopausal ladies. Oh dear. That isn't very PC is it?
It has been a busy couple of months. This may explain why my bank balance is a bit scary. Eek. Time to reign things in a bit maybe...