A whole morning spent sitting in my office, talking to my Mac (with a vague assumption that there might be some people listening out there in Zoombie-land). This is what we call ‘teaching’, these days. Overseen by Mr. Jack Nicholson, whose image (or perhaps, more precisely, R. P. McMurphy’s) makes its third appearance on the blog (see also here and here) — as many as my mother, by now. Well, it is a very good movie. And book.
In case it’s not apparent, I’ve not been at work this week. This is not for virus-related reasons. I have no reason to suspect that I or anyone I’ve been in close contact with recently has become part of the 2020 media event of the year. But like most people, I am anticipating a period of time in the (possibly near) future where I have a couple of weeks left to my own devices, so no harm in getting some rehearsal done. I did bugger all today — except for making food, and getting through this double bill.
And for what it’s worth, I do think Doctor Sleep was a pretty worthy sequel to a classic movie, though whether Kubrick would have approved, I think probably not.
I know it’s a cheat to take photos of a movie screen but I don’t care. This was the major event of my day, a film I have admired for a long time now, and my first chance to see it on the big screen thanks to the BFI reissuing a restored print this year. If you’ve never seen it — go! If you’ve already seen it, well, go and see it again, because you know it’s a brilliant movie. (The book’s a favourite of mine too: as this shot proves.)
I love this scene in particular. Is there any doubt here that Jack Nicholson isn’t ‘acting’…. he has utterly become Randall Patrick McMurphy, he is straining with every sinew and muscle in his body to lift that damn control unit and escape from the institution in which he is incarcerated?
Another Monday spent at home working…. working… all work… all work and no play?
Finally made it home, 24 hours behind schedule, and just before landing finished this for the umpteenth time. I know pretty much exactly when I bought this book — April 1989 at a gas station in Pennsylvania. As you can see, it’s certainly seen some attention since then. And rightly so; in my opinion it’s definitely one of the greatest novels ever written. If you’ve never read it, you really should.
Being 42 