Andy's Glasses

A new Woody Allen movie is a big event. I don’t care what you think. Its big. Even though there’s one every year and has been since Bananas in about 1657. When Woody was just 12 and still married to his sixth wife’s god-daughter’s neice. The man’s love life has been almost as erratic as his films. But I’ll always see them. I have to. I’m driven. Possessed. According to drug addicts, the first hit of heroin is such an incredible high that you spend the next 30 years trying to get it back. Well as a Woody addict, my first movie, and I can’t remember whether it was Play it again, Sam, or Bananas, or Take the Money and Run, was just such a ‘hit’, a ‘high’, such a drug, such a fantastic experience that I’ve spent the last 40 years trying to relive it.

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Now pay careful attention because the next sentence is something rare, something dear, something to be kept for posterity, because it’ll never be writ again:

*****Ed Milliband was right. ******

Wow.

Its a tough contest between who is more hateful; the leader of the opposition party, the hapless, left-leaning lummox, or the Daily Mail, bastion of the right wing, so staunchly conservative and Conservative that its now just finding its true new home with UKIP, the views of which concur with that newspaper’s own dreams in a reactionary, xenophobic and overly nationalistic style. The (nominal) Conservative Party is currently insufficiently conservative for most of the Mail’s views.

So when, raking through Milliband’s father’s diaries, written when the man was 17 years old, before Ed was even a flicker of his imagination, before either Wallace or Grommit was born, they found a comment which said how ‘I sometimes think it would be better if England lost the war…’

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I love women. Always have.

Not just the way they look and feel, but the very fact that they’re simply different. If they didn’t exist I’d have to invent one. Or at least buy a blow-up one. But the differences are way beyond the physical, way beyond anything that could be represented in mere vinyl. They’re different psychologically, physiologically, hormonally, temperamentally and logically. Or illogically sometimes.

Natalie Portman is a wonderful woman. Actress. And mother. Or mutha. Whatever.

And she reckons that Hollywood has it all wrong when it tries to depict ‘strong women’ in ‘feminist movies’. Because they’re stuck in that ‘Lara Croft’ mode in which a ‘strong woman’ is one who can kick the shit out of 10 armed men without smudging her mascara. A woman who is stunning, pneumatic, brilliant, beautiful, courageous, dangerous but never bigger than a size 12.

Is that ‘a feminist’? Is feminism about the ability to beat the shit out of men? Odd, I thought it was about living in peaceful, harmonious equality.

Man and his main bitch in glorious egalitarianism. Which is a suburb of Watford.

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