Pre-Wuthering Heights Thoughts

 Jonella and I are off to see the new Wuthering Heights movie tomorrow night. Being honest, I'm in a couple of minds about this. 

Firstly, I'm not going for the story, even though it's not a favourite book of mine. My relationship with the Brontes is a little fraught. I love Jane Eyre. I've always loved it. Charlotte Bronte's masterpiece is a wonder. I've loved it since I was a teenager. 

I read The Tenant of Wildfell Hall by Anne Bronte nearly 20 years ago and hated it. It's Methodist claptrap. 

Wuthering Heights, Anne Bronte's masterpiece, not so much. It's till-informed trauma porn. Much hair pulling, chest beating, racism all raveled up in what they call a love story. No thanks. 

But I've paid money to go to see the movie. Why you ask?

That would be because of the director, Emerald Fennell. You might know her from Call the Midwife - she played Patsy in and around series four. She also played Camilla Parker-Bowles in The Crown - and was a dead ringer for her. 

Fennell is an upper-class Brit with a biting sense of humour. As the writer and director she's done some great stuff. She's also won the Oscar for Best Original Screenplay for Promising Young Woman. 

Promising Young Woman is an amazing film. Brutal, but amazing. 

Then there was the incredible Saltburn, which you either loved or loathed. I loved it. Fennell, an Oxford graduate knew the landscape, wrote the screenplay and set the world on fire. 

She appeared as Midge, the pregnant Barbie in the Barbie movie. 

And now she's written the screenplay for this new adaptation of Wuthering Heights, using some of her mates from previous productions. Jacob Elordi and Margot Robbie, both Australian, are playing the main characters of Heathcliff and Cathy. The sets look amazing. But where is Linton? I can't see him the in the cast list. 

Regardless, as much as I don't like the story of Wuthering Heights, I'm fascinated with what she's done with it. 

Review ion the coming days.

Today's song: 

Dev Card: No A

 It's tipping down outside - and I love this. After a warm day and a long day at work, I love the rain. 

However, after a long day of work, I'm buggered and I don't want to fret over what to write about tonight so I pulled a Dev Card. 

Tonight's card is cute. 

Ten minutes writing anything, but you can't use the letter A. Write anything, stream of consciousness, shopping list, highlights reel, poem, love story... but you can't use the letter A (once the prompt is finished)

This will be fun. As I've got an A centric name, this might get dodgy. 

OK. Here we go.

--ooOoo--

Going home, the people in front of me were conversing in French. Francophiles, self-possessed they held themselves with style. The French often do. The younger one pointed out stores... Bunnings, the shopping centres, shops which reek of this country's weird, close-minded view of shops - the bigger, the better. 

Me, hunched over my phone, I continued with my online French lesson. Three years of French lessons were bearing fruit. I conjugate French verbs with the best of them. J'espère vivre près d'un petit village,et utiliser mes compétences. Je préfère vivre une vie simple. Je veux un petit chalet et un chien, peut-etre....

The instructions did not give the direct order to write only in English...

However, in five minutes, we were conversing, in French, like you do, commuting from the office, on the public fish tin filled with social despair. I like the opportunity to discuss the world, in French, often, because this skill requires nurturing frequently to keep it recent, fresh, flourishing. They were nice people. Worked for the university. Garrulous. Humble

My stop could be viewed on the horizon. I wished them a 'Bonne journee" stepping into the street, the looming deluge required some shelter. No brolly could be found. I would've been happy to slosh in resulting puddles, but my white shoes would not like it. 

Regardless, I used my French for five minutes. This rendered me happy. 

--ooOoo--

That was a very cool exercise. 

Night, night. 

Today's song:

Manifest Manifest Manifest

I see. I want. I plot. I plan. 

I see this. 

It's playing in London from 21 March to 6 June at the National Theatre in London. 

I MEAN IT'S GOT BLOODY AIDEN TURNER IN IT. Seriously, with his treacle voice, cheeky smile and chest hair you could get lost in for a week, really, why wouldn't you want to see this. (I'd climb that fellow like a scratching post.)

And Lesley Manville is the bomb. But Aiden bloody Turner, on stage....

I want this. 

I want to go to London to go to see a play in which Aiden Turner is on stage - and not from out in the nosebleed section. I'd like a proper ticket. I mean, I went and saw Michael Sheen on stage in Amadeus at the Sydney Opera House and had tickets out in the nether regions, but I would go and listen to that man read a EULA (End User License Agreement). 

Anyway, I need to get creative and start plotting. How can I get myself to London for a few days, find accommodation, transportation, travel insurance, cat sitters and maybe even a job from which I can do from London, and maybe go visit a lot of cathedrals and a few friends and ...

Rather than say it's hopeless, I'm sending it out to the universe that I want, with all of my heart, to do this, and I want to manifest it. I don't know - maybe a significant lotto win.... an unseen large inheritance or bequest... come on universe, you know that I am willing to put in the work. I could spend a week or so in Paris on the way back, knock off a few more things on my to do list. 

But for the moment, I would like to manifest a visit to London where I can see Aiden Turner play the Vicomte de Valmont. 

Come on universe. I'm good for it!

Today's song:

Movie Review: Is This Thing On?

Movie Number 8 of 2026

The Movie: Is This Thing On?

The Cinema: Hoyts Victoria Gardens

Runtime: 2 hours 1 minute

Stars: 4

This film intrigued me from the outset. Directed by Bradley Cooper. Written by Bradley Cooper, Will Arnett and Mark Chappell It's a movie about stand up comedy and a marriage. It's a New York story of sorts. All of these normally mean I'll like the film. I'm happy to say that I did enjoy it, and the film was so much more than what I thought it could be. It's smart, funny, well observed and heartfelt. What more do you need? 

IMDB.com describes the plot well. "As their marriage unravels, Alex (Will Arnett) faces middle age and divorce, seeking new purpose in the New York comedy scene. Meanwhile, his wife Tess (Laura Dern) confronts sacrifices made for their family, forcing them to navigate co-parenting and identities.”

That sums it up nicely. We see most of this from Alex's point of view, starting when he and Tess separate in a reasonably amicable way. Seeking a bit of a new direction, Alex, turns up at an open mike night at a comedy club, and rather than pay a cover charge, puts his name down to go on stage - and remarkably, a fire is lit. Arnett is great as the struggling, searching Alex, who wants the best for all, including his two sons and his wife. 

The film not only takes you into the bowels of the New York comedy clubs, where Alex finds a new tribe of people, it looks at his greater group of family and friends. His supportive parents Jan (Christine Ebersole) and Jan (Ciaran Hinds), Alex and Tess's friendship group, including Sean Hayes, Andra Day and an extremely flaky Bradley Cooper and their eccentric actor friend Balls, who helps to bring comic relief. 

If anything, I found this to be a realistic view on married life and the existential crisis that hits many of us in middle age. The script is tight and punchy, with enough laughs to keep you entertained while looking deeper into the very human state of a long marriage. Bradley Cooper's direction brings this to life. 

My only gripe was the hand-held camera shots, which at times, particularly in the club scenes, made me feel a bit seasick. 

Otherwise, this comes recommended, particularly if you want to watch a film about grown-ups trying, and for the most succeeding, in getting their shit together. 

Today's song:

Sunday Stealing gets Strict

 This week's Sunday Stealing comes with the strict instructions to provide your answers in one word only.

This suits me as I've been feeling decidedly off-colour for the last day or so, barely leaving the couch. It's nothing too nasty - it's like all of my energy has seeped away. I think I need a doona day, as we call them here - a day where you don't get out of your pyjamas, nor leave the couch. 

Sounds like a plan. 

One Word Answers ONLY

1. Where is your cell phone?

Couch. 

2. Tell us about your hair. 

Curly. 

3. What's your favorite thing? 

Cats. 

4. What room are you in?

Living. 

5. Where did you grow up?

London. 

6. What aren't you good at?

Suffering. 

7.  Your favorite drink?

Gin. 

8. Where do you want to be in 10 years?

Paris. 

9. Your mood.

Ambivalent. 

10. Last time you cried.

Hamnet.

Today's song: 

Get dressed with me

I have a party to go to tonight. 

Bah!

Not blah that there's a party. My friend is turning 50 and there is a lot to celebrate. However, I feel like I'm coming down with something, and the thought of socialising is not doing it for me. But, I also feel that I should go, even if only for an hour. 

My next dilemma. What to bloody wear. 

The instruction on the invite reads as follows:

"Wear something you never have the opportunity to wear.'

Bah!

This means making a decision, for which I have no brain space at the moment. Wear something I never have the opportunity to wear? There's a bit to choose from. 

Bathers? I don't wear them often.

Or my Adelaide Crows scarf and hat - but it's not footy season. 

High heels? Nope, absolutely not. I don't want to look like a bad drag queen - I walk like a bad drag queen in heels. 

I've got this long floral dress that I've never worn out - but I'm not in the mood for that - especially as I don't think I'll be there for long and I feel like the dress makes me look the size of the Titanic. 

All my nice winter clothes can't be worn - it's far too temperate for that. 

There's a plethora of band t-shirts I could wear... David Byrne... The Pixies.... The Hoodoo Gurus.... The Whitlams.... yeah... nah. Though the party is in Northcote. 

There is the lovely, drapey silk throw over I bought in Darwin from a local designer... maybe put some plain black basics underneath... that might be the go. With my Pandora bracelets - the three of them, which probably need a polish - I never wear them. 

Then there's the perfume. Do I go Chanel No 5 - this last bottle has only been worn to funerals in the last two years - maybe I should wear it more often. Or do I go with one of the Juliette has a Gun scents - Lady Vengeance or Not a Perfume are my favourites. 

Do I turn up in my white Birkenstocks or white trainers or put on my Doc Martens - I'm taking the train out to Northcote. It's easier than finding parking and it means I can have a drink. 

I do like that my friend has provided a dress code, I'm interested in seeing what people turn up in. 

At least, in writing this, I've managed to verbalise what would be the best outfit. I'll go the plain blacks with the silk throw over and my Pandora bracelets - with white trainers and yeah... 

I still think turning up in bathers could be fun. Pity it's not warmer. 

Today's song: 

Discombobulated

 Just so you know, discombobulate is one of my favourite words. 

This evening, I'm discombobulated. 

I've been tired all day. It's been a big week. On signing out of my work computer, I went for a quick read before heading out for dinner with a friend. This was at 5.15 p.m.

It seems I fell asleep, as I was soon awoken from a dream.  The cat was demanding his dinner. Not that this registered. I'd been dreaming. Looking at my watch, it was 6.25. I couldn't quite work out if it was morning or afternoon. It took a bit to work out that I should have left ten minutes before. I can't remember the dream, but I know it was intense. 

The cat was fed. Knowing I'd be driving home in the dark, I cleaned my glasses, grabbed my stuff and went out, placing my sunglasses on my head. My sunglasses are the prescription kind and I'm light sensitive. 

A pleasant night was had - but imagine my dismay when I looked in my bag to find that my glasses weren't in there. 

Argh. 

How was I supposed to drive home?

Fun fact - as much as I can get around at home without them, I will not drive without prescription lenses (nor watch a movie at the cinema without them). I'm only a little short-sighted, but you have to be able to see properly to drive. 

I moaned to my friend, who said she's having similar age-related sight issues, having to put on glasses to read anything. I'm the other way - I have to take my glasses off to read or look at the phone. 

Anyway - here was my dilemma. Drive home without my glasses, technically going against the conditions on my licence - or wear my sunglasses - see clearly, even if things were a bit dark.

I went with the latter, despite looking like an idiot, but being able to see the road. Thankfully it was only a short trip from Surry Hills. 

It also put a silly 80's song in my head. 

I'm still discombobulated. I think I need my bed. 

Today's song: