Yep, and I have been. Give a daughter a set of beard trimmers and a head and she’ll have it shawn within 10 minutes. So why spend 85 quid and three hours having some cross-dressing nancy-boy called ‘Tarquin’ prance around cutting one hair at a time and making a production number out of it when Rachie and the hedge-trimmers does the job during the half time break of the Arsenal/Palace game? Hence the ‘selfie’ (wearing my uber-cool, Spurs dressing gown).

The Coen Brothers are uber-cool. They probably have Spurs dressing gowns too. Even though they grew up in Minnesota and, despite their jewishness, wouldn’t know Tottenham Hotspur from a bowl of chicken soup. In fact on current form, I think the chicken soup might play better.

However, they do make films. Exceedingly good films. If you like your movies a little odd, a touch obscure, a sprinkle of ‘noir’, a hint of ‘wacky’ and a soupçon of bizarre.

Fargo is in my genuine top 10 of all time fave movies. Which unfortunately has at least 97 entries, but still, they make the cut. And The Big Lebowski and possibly No Country for Old Men and A Serious Man…

Barton Fink…

Blood Simple…

Anyway, I love a Coen Brothers movie. Which is why we went to see Inside Llewin Davis on Saturday. Because its by them and therefore is beyond any question as to whether it should be seen or not.

Coming out after the film, (in the literal sense, I’d like to add), the word I heard uttered numerous times by loads of strangers making their way into a cold night in East Finchley was ‘pointless’. Mel called it pointless. I though it was pointless. Thus, I feel, the general consensus is that it is totally pointless.

But perhaps that’s the whole point? To be, seemingly, pointless. It kind’a goes nowhere. It says nothing very much and it lacks ‘action’ in any normal sense. (Folk music and musicians by their very definition, don’t do ‘action’).

Although… the lead guy, Oscar Isaac, is brilliant. In a pointlessly brilliant way, of course. And the supporting cast, Justin Timberlake, Carey Mulligan, the always outstanding John Goodman, are all wonderful. It has some fantastically funny moments too and, as you’d expect, its filmed beautifully and looks stunning.

So its a bit like me: superficially gorgeous and says a lot but is essentially useless, pointless and worthless.

In short, I really liked it. I just can’t work out why. But heh, I don’t have to. Its art, its an aesthetic, I can like it if I fucking want to, and worry about being labelled ‘pretentious’ later.

It has to be seen, otherwise there’s just no point.

Philip Seymour Hoffman. What a waste.

Happy monday

A xxxx