Ridley Scott in 4 Films

Posted on by Steve Higgins

Ridley Scott was born in South Shields, England, in 1937. He studied at West Hartlepool College of Art and later at London’s Royal College of Art, where he first began experimenting with film. While there, he contributed to the school’s magazine ARK and made a short film, Boy and Bicycle (1962), featuring his younger brother, Tony Scott.

After graduating, Scott joined the BBC as a set designer and director, working on popular series such as Z Cars and The Troubleshooters. His time in television taught him the mechanics of production and in 1968, he left the BBC to establish Ridley Scott Associates (RSA), a commercial production company. Over the next decade, he directed hundreds of adverts, developing a style of lighting, atmosphere and composition, qualities that made his transition to cinema with The Duellists (1977) both natural and visually striking.

Scott is a prolific film maker and has created some classic films. I have to say there are many of Scott’s films that I haven’t seen so in this post I’ve focussed on four particular films that I have seen and enjoyed.

Alien

Alien is a really different kind of sci-fi film. It’s not Star Trek or Star Wars and it’s not littered with sci-fi terminology. It’s a very slow burning earthy film about a spacecraft on its way back to earth with a payload of something, I’m not sure what. On the way back home, the crew are awakened from hibernation to find that the ship’s sensors have detected a beacon which maybe some sort of SOS and the company regulations state this must be investigated. Next thing we’re down on a hostile planet and one crew member has been hit in the face by some kind of creature which has attached itself to his face. Later it falls off and all is ok except that something is growing inside the crewman which bursts out of his chest in a horrible spectacular scene and suddenly, an alien creature is onboard.

It is all done really well and one by one the crew fall victim to this creature in the dark confined spaces of the ship. It’s sci-fi mixed with horror and the only survivor turns out to be Ripley played by Sigourney Weaver. Ripley is a sort of female John McClane, the Bruce Willis character from the Die Hard films. Weaver creates a really memorable character which was revived in various sequels but the real core of the film and the scene everyone remembers is probably that gruesome scene when the alien bursts out of John Hurt’s chest. Apparently, Ridley Scott didn’t tell the actors what was about to happen so the shocked faces on the actors are all really authentic.

Some years later, Scott decided to revisit the franchise with two prequel films. Both were dismal in my opinion but it makes me wonder why was Alien so good and Prometheus and Alien Covenant so bad? The effects in those two latter films were good but perhaps the actors weren’t as good as Sigourney Weaver, John Hurt and Ian Holm and the other crew members in the original, or is the classic chest buster scene so burned into cinematic lore that it can’t be topped?

The Martian

The Martian is surprisingly similar to that old film Robinson Crusoe on Mars in many ways. The crew of a Mars mission is on the surface when a major dust storm threatens to topple over their space vehicle. The crew decide to abort the mission and take off but one crew member is hit by debris and presumed dead and they leave him behind. Later, Mark Watney played by Matt Damon, awakes from unconsciousness in the desert and makes his way back to the martian base camp. The bio-data telemetry from his space suit had been damaged and so made mission control assume that he was dead. Now the martian base camp is pretty basic and although it has computer stations and food and water and so on, there is no communication to earth. The next mission is not due for four years so Watney must find a way to survive until then on the camp’s meagre supplies.

He decides to make part of the camp into an area where he can plant some potatoes and hopefully produce more food. Just like in Crusoe, Mark Watney keeps us interested in what is happening by recording his thoughts in a video diary. Not only that but back on earth, observatories notice the activity taking place on Mars and realise he is still alive.

Still unable to communicate with earth the marooned astronaut decides to dig up an old space probe, drag it back to base, plug it into a power cable and use it for communication. I won’t ruin everything for you by telling you the whole story but again, if you like sci-fi and perhaps even if you don’t, this is such a well made and enjoyable film and is well worth watching. The visual look of the film is great and the director manages to keep the viewer interested despite the fact that for much of the time there is only Matt Damon up there on the screen.

External scenes of Mars were filmed in Wadi Rum in Jordan and NASA decided to collaborate with the producers as they saw the film as promoting real space exploration. The author of the book which the film was based on was Andy Weir who tried to be as scientifically accurate as possible, researching orbital mechanics and the planet Mars as well as botany, all elements which interested Ridley Scott.

A Good Year

One of the great things about Ridley Scott is that not only is he a prolific film maker, he doesn’t just stick to one particular genre. The first time I saw this particular film I would never have guessed that it was a Ridley Scott film. It’s based on a book by Peter Mayle who wrote the wonderful A Year in Provence. Scott had wanted to make a film in Provence as he owned a house in the area. Peter Mayle was approached to write a screenplay but he declined but decided to write a novel and for Scott to buy the film rights and have a screenplay written based on the book. The screenplay was written by Marc Klein and both the book and the film incorporated some of Ridley Scott’s own ideas. The basic story is about a London stockbroker who inherits a property in France belonging to his late uncle. The stockbroker, Max, played by Russell Crowe, goes back to France and after a while begins to fall for the old place again. A gorgeous local waitress plays a large part in his feelings too. His late uncle is played by Albert Finney and his scenes are all shown in flashback.

I have to say I didn’t like this film the first time I saw it. I thought the flashback scenes were confusing because I didn’t realise they were flashbacks at first. I didn’t like Russell Crowe and thought he was miscast. I feel the role was more something perhaps Hugh Grant could have played effortlessly. Over time though I’ve warmed to this film and now it is one of my absolute favourites.

Gladiator

This is a film which really revived the kind of classic epics that Hollywood and directors like David Lean used to make. It’s a really fabulous film with these huge set pieces set in the Roman arena, beautifully photographed and acted. It concerns Russell Crowe as a Roman general, Maximus Decimus Meridius who Marcus Aurelius decides to nominate as his successor as emperor of Rome. Unfortunately, Marcus dies at the hand of his son, Commodus who quite fancies being emperor himself. Commodus has Maximus arrested and sentenced to death but Maximus fights off his executioners and escapes. He returns home to find his family murdered. Various events then see Maximus become enslaved and later a gladiator determined to seek revenge.

One of the main characters was played by Oliver Reed who died during the production. During a break from filming in Valletta, Reed had encountered a group of Royal Navy sailors and challenged them to a drinking match. He suffered a heart attack in the bar and died in an ambulance en route to the hospital.

His role had not been completely filmed and so a body double was used in some shots and in one scene Reed’s face was digitally inserted into the film. I have Gladiator on DVD so I thought I’d give it a watch just to refresh my memory. Gladiator was just as good as I remembered and the secret of the film, for me at any rate, is that even though this is a great epic in the same tradition as David Lean’s later films, at its core is a very human story about a man betrayed who longs to be reunited with his murdered family which makes his death a sort of victory.

Other Films

I could of course have mentioned many other classic Ridley Scott films. Thelma and Louise is one I have seen. I always thought it was a good film, nothing less and nothing more but watching a TV show on Sky Arts not long ago the reviewers thought it was a work of genius. It was certainly new in that it was a road movie featuring two women rather than two men. Blade Runner is another classic sci-fi drama directed by Scott and I look forward to the day I see it listed on my TV schedule.

Scott directed Hannibal, the follow up to Silence of the Lambs which I thought was a little gruesome and so apparently did Jodie Foster who declined to reprise her role as FBI agent Clarice Starling.

All the Money in the World was a pretty good film which was about the kidnapping of J Paul Getty’s grandson and his refusal to cough up a multi million pound ransom. Interestingly Kevin Spacey played Getty but after allegations of sexual misconduct Scott cut Spacey from the film and asked Christopher Plummer to play Getty,  calling for some last minute refilming of parts of the film.

I was hoping to see Ridley Scott’s Napoleon at the cinema but these days films seem to have such a short cinema showing. It doesn’t seem to be streaming anywhere so I’ll just have to look out for the DVD.

What are your favourite Ridley Scott films?

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Things that Happened in October

Posted on by Steve Higgins

Here I am, raring to go. Laptop at the ready, focussed, ready to write this week’s blog. The thing is after 688 posts I’m not that sure what to write about. OK, so what about . .  things that happened in October? Let’s dive in.

One thing that happened in October was me! I was born on October the 3rd, quite a considerable time ago which is annoying on a number of levels. One, I’m getting a bit knackered. My back hurts, my knees ache. It’s hard to stand up straight but what is a real pain is when you get one of those things on the internet where you have to add your date of birth and I have to scroll back through the 90s, the 80s, the 70s, the 60s and finally to the 1950s.

Anthony Eden was the prime minister when I was born. He carried on until his resignation in 1957 due to ill health. At the top of the music charts or hit parade as they called it back then was Doris Day and Whatever Will be, Will be, Que Sera Sera.

My brother Colin was also an October child. He was born on the 10th of October but sadly wasn’t around to celebrate it this year. He would have been 65. My mother too was also born in October but more about her later.

John Lennon

Lennon was born on the 9th of October in 1940. His mother and father were Alfred ‘Freddie’ Lennon and his wife Julia. Alfred was a merchant seaman and was away at sea when John was born. He apparently went absent without leave but later turned up back in Liverpool. By then Julia was involved with another man, John Dykins and actually pregnant by him. Julia’s sister, Mimi decided to take John home and look after him in order to give Julia a chance of happiness with her new love John Dykins.

The last vinyl album I ever bought, and the last one that John lennon made. Double Fantasy. £2.99, what a bargain.

Mimi told Philip Norman, author of the book Shout, the True Story of the Beatles that ‘no man wants another man’s child’. Perhaps the fact that she had no children of her own played a part too. Julia continued to visit her son at Mimi’s house at 251 Menlove Avenue until 15th of July 1958.

John was staying with Julia and John Dykins for the weekend but Julia had called round to see her sister Mimi. When she left to catch her bus home she was hit by a car and killed. John Lennon’s world had been tragically changed.

Many moons ago when I worked for a cigarette vending company, I used to visit a small pub in Woolton in Liverpool and the owners of the pub were two retired ex shell tanker drivers. They were both friendly guys but one in particular was outgoing and talkative and if he was on duty at the bar we would always have a good chat while I sorted out the cigarette machine. One day we got onto the subject of the Beatles and I was surprised to hear that John Lennon’s house was just around the corner. Woolton is a very pleasant middle class suburb of Liverpool and I remember thinking what! This is where Lennon was brought up?  Lennon’s image as a sort of working class hero led me to assume he had a background in a rough and tumble area of Liverpool, like the Dingle where Ringo lived. The truth was different. Perhaps Lennon fermented the working class hero thing, perhaps the fault was mine, I just assumed something without knowing the facts.

Driving round the corner I found Lennon’s old house, 251 Menlove Avenue. He was living here when he started his first band, the Quarrymen and also when he met Paul McCartney. Lennon’s life was one heck of a journey taking him around the world with the Beatles and finally to New York with Yoko Ono where he was shot and killed in 1980.

Marie Antoinette executed 1793

Kirsten Dunst as Marie Antoinette in the film version directed by Sofia Coppola

On October 16, 1793, Marie Antoinette, the deposed Queen of France, was executed by guillotine in Paris’ Place de la Révolution. After a swift and merciless trial before the Revolutionary Tribunal, she was found guilty of treason. Dressed in a simple white gown, her once-elaborate hair cut short, she was taken through the streets in an open cart, exposed to the jeers and insults of the crowd. Despite the humiliation she endured, she remained composed. When she accidentally stepped on her executioner’s foot while mounting the scaffold, she turned to him and said politely, “Pardon me, sir, I did not do it on purpose.” It was a final gesture of grace amid the chaos of the Revolution. Moments later, the blade fell, and with it ended the life of a woman who had once embodied the grandeur of Versailles and become the Revolution’s most reviled symbol. Her death marked both the destruction of the monarchy and the deepening ferocity of the revolutionary cause.

A famous phrase she is said to have spoken is ‘let them eat cake’ after being told that her subjects were starving and had no bread. Did she really say that? Probably not but in the original French, Marie referred to brioche, not cake. Brioche is a sort of sweet bread popular in France but either way, the phrase has been used as propaganda by the revolutionaries to show that the Queen had no time for the peasants.

Ghandi born October 2nd 1869

Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi was a leader of India’s struggle for independence and a global symbol of nonviolent resistance. Born in 1869 in Porbandar, India, he trained as a lawyer in London before developing his philosophy of satyagraha—the power of truth and peaceful protest—during his years in South Africa. Many people think his name is Mahatma but this was in fact a title bestowed upon him in 1915 and means ‘Great soul’. Gandhi became the moral and political heart of the freedom movement, leading campaigns of civil disobedience, boycotts and marches that challenged British colonial rule without resorting to violence. Gandhi’s assassination in 1948 shocked the world, but his ideals of peace, equality, and nonviolence continue to influence movements for justice and human rights across the globe. Quite a few years ago I picked up Ghandi’s autobiography and lost it before finishing it. I know I still have it somewhere and one day I will find it and finally finish it.

A biographical film about Ghandi directed by Sir Richard Attenborough was released in 1982. Attenborough had been trying to make the film since 1962 and the final production marked the realisation of a dream for the director. Ben Kingsley starred as Ghandi and the film won 8 Oscars at the Academy awards although there was some criticism of the film. I was surprised to find that the opening sequence where Ghandi is thrown off a train in South Africa was entirely fictional.

1990 East and West Germany Reunited

When the Berlin Wall fell on November 9, 1989, it marked not just the collapse of a barrier but the beginning of a profound transformation. For nearly three decades since the end of the Second World War, Germany had been divided, East and West separated by ideology, politics and a concrete wall that sprang up in 1963. The fall of the Wall was followed by a wave of hope and uncertainty as both sides faced the challenge of becoming one nation again. On October 3, 1990, reunification was officially declared, and the Federal Republic of Germany absorbed the former East German state.

The process was far from simple. Economically, the East lagged behind after years of communist rule and integrating two very different systems tested the country’s resilience. Yet, despite the struggles, rising unemployment, cultural adjustments and political growing pains, the spirit of unity prevailed and Berlin once again stood as the capital of a single, democratic Germany. Today, the reunification remains one of the most remarkable examples of peaceful transformation in modern history.

24th October 1929 Wall Street Crash

The Wall Street Crash of 1929 was a catastrophic collapse of the U.S. stock market that marked the beginning of the Great Depression. Throughout the 1920s, the American economy had boomed, and millions of people invested heavily in the stock market, even buying shares on credit. This speculation drove prices far above the real value of companies, creating a dangerous bubble. In late October 1929, confidence began to crumble. On October 24, known as Black Thursday, panic selling set in and by October 29, or Black Tuesday, the market had completely collapsed. Billions of dollars in wealth vanished overnight, leaving investors ruined and banks in crisis. The crash didn’t cause the Great Depression by itself but it exposed deep economic weaknesses and triggered a decade of mass unemployment, poverty and hardship across the United States and much of the world.

One of those who escaped disaster was Joe Kennedy, father of President John F Kennedy who apparently had invested in property, real estate as they call it in the USA, rather than stocks and shares.

Finally, bringing this blog back to a personal element, in 1929 my grandfather and grandmother had gone to Cheltenham to find work and on the 24th of October, the very day of the crash in the USA, my mother was born. She died in 2023 aged 93.

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F1, The Crown and Watching the Box on Holiday

Posted on by Steve Higgins

My original title for this post was Watching the Box in France. That however seemed to give the impression that this post was about French TV which it isn’t. Liz and I don’t normally watch much television on holiday, we are far more interested in swimming, going out for meals and barbecuing. On this holiday however, the weather was a little mixed and on quite a few evenings we settled down in the lounge of our rented house and decided to pop the TV on.

Just to backtrack a little, we rented this same house back in May and usually, the only time I put the TV on is to watch F1 racing. May is the usual month in the calendar for the Monaco grand prix, one of my favourite races of the year. There is actually plenty of talk recently about cancelling the race as nowadays, the F1 cars are faster and much bigger and so there is very little room left to overtake.

Back in the 1960s, cars were much smaller, in fact in those days there were three cars on the front row of the starting grid, the cars lining up in 3-2-3 formation. Fast forward to the present day and F1 cars and their aerodynamic fins and wings have spread out hoping to grab that extra bit of air in order to generate more downforce and push themselves down to the track so they can corner ever faster.

Many people have called for the race to be cancelled as bigger cars combined with a narrow track makes it virtually impossible to overtake which reduces the racing to just a procession of high speed cars and of course whoever is on pole position is pretty much guaranteed a win. Push that to one side and I must tell you that I happen to love the Monaco grand prix, I love the track, I love the exotic names of the corners: Saint Devote, Mirabeau and Rascasse. I love the run down to the Casino Square, the dash into the tunnel and the following tight chicane, the prize giving, the boats in the harbour, the glamour; in short, I love it all.

Back in May then I was disappointed to find that the Skybox in this lovely house did not seem to be working. I switched it on and off, rebooted it, checked the connections but all to no avail. I was forced to watch the 8 minute highlights on YouTube and quite frankly, I was gutted. OK back in England our own trusty Skybox had recorded the race but by then I knew the outcome, I knew the winners and the excitement had all been lost.

Anyway, we came here once again in September and I was looking forward to watching the Italian Grand Prix, another of my favourite races. The TV worked ok but the skybox was no more, lying abandoned and disconnected on one side. A new TV set up had been sorted with the TV connected to the internet. I quickly ascertained that in France, F1 was available on Canal+. Yes, Canal was there, ok so far. I clicked on the channel only to find that a subscription was required. I would have to pay and subscribe to Canal to watch the racing!

My inner tightwad kicked in and declined to open up my wallet so once again I had to make do with the 8 mins of YouTube highlights. Oh well, we didn’t come on holiday to watch TV but even so, I was disappointed.

The other thing we noticed on one rainy evening was that Netflix was available. Now just recently when Liz renewed her Sky package, some negotiation was involved and to sweeten the deal, Sky threw in a Netflix subscription. I have to say I haven’t looked at Netflix much but I always assumed it was just an ordinary channel like BBC1 for instance, in that there was a schedule and certain programmes were broadcast at certain times. Not so, Netflix is more like YouTube, you can watch programmes on demand but what to watch, that is the question.

Liz wanted to watch The Crown which I can’t say I was really interested in at first but after a while I realised what a really excellent production it is. The actors are really good especially the portrayals of the Queen, Princess Margaret and Winston Churchill.

The younger Queen was played by Claire Foy and Princess Margaret by Vanessa Kirkby and Margaret’s situation as the Queen’s sister was explored in a few episodes. Her love affair with Peter Townsend was doomed because Townsend was a divorcee. The Queen was advised to ask Margaret to wait until she was 25 and then she could marry. When the time came the Queen’s advisors brought up more issues and then ultimately the two lovers had to separate which of course didn’t help the sisterly relationship between the Queen and Margaret. Margaret actually could have married Townsend but that would have meant giving up her royal status so it seems to me that perhaps being a royal meant more to her than being with Peter Townsend.

Prince Philip courtesy creative commons

Before watching The Crown I had no idea of the background of Prince Philip. I always assumed he was English and a member of some family which was eligible to marry into the royals. In actual fact he was Greek and aged only eighteen months old he and his family were exiled from their homeland which left him with a lifetime fear of revolution and anything that might threaten the royal family.

His and Charles’ school days at Gordonstoun were really well done especially the interplay and flashbacks between Philip’s and his son Charles’ time there. Philip apparently loved it but Charles hated it.

A real stand out story was the one about the retirement of Churchill which was cleverly linked to the famous, or infamous painting of a portrait of Churchill by Graham Sutherland. Churchill, played by John Lithgow, was coming up to his 80th birthday and various people wanted him to retire but he was adamant that he would carry on. Churchill had various sittings for the painting with the artist and Churchill himself was an amateur painter of some merit. The two, one a professional and the other an amateur, tried to examine each other through their works. Churchill was hugely disappointed with the result which portrayed him as a very old man and came to see at last, according to The Crown anyway, that the time had come for him to retire and hand over the leadership of the country to Anthony Eden. Everything was beautifully done.

The other thing about The Crown was even the quick cutaway and establishing shots of cars driving up to the Palace or through London in the 50s and 60s, were expertly done. I’m sure there was an element of special effects involved especially in scenes of crowds in London but even so, everything looked so good.

An interesting episode concerned Lord Altrincham who was concerned enough to put forward a little criticism of her Majesty when she seemed to brand the workers at a car factory ‘ordinary’ instead of praising their work. He said himself that he didn’t blame the Queen but those who were writing her speeches and he added; “The personality conveyed by the utterances which are put into her mouth is that of a priggish schoolgirl, captain of the hockey team, a prefect and a recent candidate for Confirmation.”

In the show, Lord Altrincham is invited to the palace to meet the Queen’s secretary, however when he arrives, he finds himself face to face with the Queen.

I doubt that ever actually happened but if it did then full marks to the Queen for meeting criticism head on. Many of the Lord’s recommendations, such as making a Christmas TV broadcast, were accepted by the monarch and surely must have helped her feel not as remote from her people as she had up till then. Another broadcast which was dramatised was the one made by the Duke of Windsor when he abdicated. The Duke flips in and out of the story. The Queen Mother detested him as he had forced the mantle of kingship onto her husband when he was ill-prepared for it. Prince Charles however, did strike up a sort of friendship with the Duke. I should imagine that a former King and a future one would have much in common although how much was fiction and how much was accurate, I don’t know. Charles was played by Josh O’Connor extremely well and the Duke in his later incarnation by Derek Jacobi.

Our last evenings in our gite at Parçay-les-Pins were made all the more enjoyable by this splendid series which I’m sure everyone has watched ages ago but for me, a latecomer to Netflix, is very new.

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Working with AI Images

Posted on by Steve Higgins

This has been a busy week for Liz and me. We had to say goodbye to our rented gite in France with its lovely relaxing gardens, patio and heated pool and make our way back to what will probably be cold and wet England. What then could I write about this weekend? Well, as I spend a lot of time making images with AI I thought I could give you a quick account of my experiences, good and bad, with AI imaging.

The idea of AI imaging is pretty simple; on a site like Freepik or Nightcafe, you type into a text box and describe your image and AI or artificial intelligence will do the rest. Here’s a recent example of an image I made for use on social media.

The description was pretty simple and, in my experience, the simpler you can make your description, the better. Once you get complicated, anything can happen. Here it is:

A solitary lighthouse keeper, weathered and wise, stands on a rocky outcrop overlooking a turbulent sea. The lighthouse beam cuts through a thick, mystical fog and the beam projects the following words into the sky: ‘READ A NEW BLOG POST!’ The scene is rendered in a hyper realistic fantasy style. The overall mood is one of stoic endurance and ancient mystery.

The image came out pretty much the way I wanted it. I added the web address later in Microsoft Designer. I also made it into a video which didn’t really work as the lighthouse lamp only turned halfway but the actual light it sent out turned a full circle so it all looked a bit odd. Oh well!

Another idea I had was of a girl hitting a tennis ball and the ball is frozen close to the camera with the words ‘READ A NEW BLOG POST’ seen clearly written on the ball. I must have tried the prompt for this about 30 times and have never really got what I wanted. Here are a few versions.

In the end I thought what about just using the ball without the tennis player? That turned out to be much easier.

Another idea I had was a girl in an art gallery looking at paintings. One would say the usual, A NEW BLOG POST AVAILABLE NOW or something like READ A NEW BLOG POST. The poster would be sharply focussed, the girl blurred but believe it or not every time I tried that prompt, the poster came out blurred and the girl sharp.

Anyway, let’s take a look at some which came out pretty well.

Many of these images I use in my promo videos which can be found in places like Facebook and X. Here’s a recent example.

Freepik is a site where I have always got some good results and recently I spotted an AI voice section on their site. I sorted out quite a few good voices which can be edited and made faster or slower and other refinements but sadly, just as I was getting started, I ran out of credits which was really annoying especially as being a major tightwad I wasn’t inclined to pay for more. Oh well, here’s one voice I used that I thought might resonate with my American readers.

Here’s another video which used an AI image of a bottle floating in the water which came out pretty good as a video. The sound effects were added from a sound effects CD I bought from eBay years ago.

This next one features a pulp fiction paperback with the title, new blog post out now. I tried this prompt a number of times but somehow the text always came out mixed up. This one isn’t perfect; it was supposed to show my name on the spine but shows it on the side where the pages are.

Here’s a final one which will probably reflect the UK weather back in Manchester.

Of course, they don’t call Manchester The Rainy City for nothing!

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My Holiday Book Bag Summer 2025

Posted on by Steve Higgins

One of the great things about having a lazy relaxing time in France is that I have plenty of time to settle down after a meal or a swim and have a long relaxing read. Here are a few more of my holiday reads.

The Eagle has Landed by Jack Higgins

I’ve seen the film of this numerous times and although it isn’t a particular favourite I’ve always enjoyed it. My brother died earlier this year and when I cleared his flat out, I noticed this book. He had urged me a number of times to read it as he said it was rather different to the film so I brought it along on holiday and thought I’d give it a read.

It actually reminded me a little of The Day of the Jackal, in that the book focusses mainly on the preparations for the operation and the action only occupies a small portion of the book.

In the opening pages Hitler has a rant about various things but praises the operation of Otto Skorseny who brilliantly freed the Duce, Mussolini, from captivity and brought him to Hitler. He chastises Admiral Canaris for not being able to do a similar operation such as kidnapping Churchill and Himmler, always wanting to please his Führer, takes note.

Canaris feels he has to placate Hitler and following on from a comment from Himmler decides to put forward a feasibility study. He assumes Hitler will forget about the whole project but Himmler gets wind of the study which he feels could work and forces one of Canaris’ aides to follow through with the project.

Colonel Radl, the aide in question, recruits Lieutenant-Colonel Kurt Steiner and his team who are veterans of fighting in Russia and various other places but due to Steiner’s defence of an escaping jewish girl, have now been relegated to a penal unit. Radl also engages Liam Devlin, an IRA soldier, to act with a British spy who has advised the details of a visit by Winston Churchill to a remote English village.

Verdict: The author builds up all the elements of this story in a tense and exciting fashion and the result is a really enthralling read. This result was much better than the film version even though the film is a great watch. I think I might look out for more books from Jack Higgins.

Mandy by Mandy Rice-Davies and Shirley Flack

This was another of my late brother’s books. He had mentioned to me that he was interested in the Profumo scandal and in fact, many years ago, he and I went to see the film Scandal at the cinema.

This book is an autobiography of sorts by Mandy Rice Davies who wasn’t really connected directly to the Profumo affair although she was a friend and flatmate of one of the principals, Christine Keeler.

As a young girl Mandy aged 16, real name Marilyn, left home in Birmingham and caught the train into London. That same day she auditioned for a job as a dancer in a night club and after getting the job she was given lodgings for 12 weeks after which she and Christine Keeler, a fellow dancer, became flatmates. There was a strict rule at the club which was that employees could not fraternise with the club’s members. The members were all very well-off gentlemen and many of the dancers flouted the rules. Christine and Mandy were invited out by various people and taken to exclusive clubs and restaurants and met many of the rich and famous of the day.

Marilyn did a lot of modelling assignments and was encouraged to use a different name to Marilyn so after some thought she came up with Mandy. She and Christine were youngsters who sought out fun and adventure and the two befriended an osteopath by the name of Stephen Ward.  Ward introduced the girls to many celebrities of the day and one day Christine confided in Mandy that she was having an affair with a government minister, John Profumo.

Mandy was called a sex worker in the famous court case but as she points out in this book, she was not a sex worker or prostitute even though she was promiscuous and had a number of affairs. Neither was Stephen Ward a pimp or someone who lived off the earnings of prostitutes. Mandy was famous for admitting in court that she had had sex with Lord Astor. When she was told that Astor had denied the claim she famously replied ‘well, he would, wouldn’t he’?

Mandy had a long affair with Peter Rachman who later became infamous as someone who rented out run down properties to immigrants and used various thugs to make sure the rent was paid. Rachman was a self-made millionaire who survived concentration camps in both Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union. He died of a heart attack aged only 43 and Mandy was shut out of his properties by Rachman’s widow. Not only that but various gifts Rachman had made to her including a brand-new Jaguar car were swiftly repossessed.

In later life Mandy married and moved to Israel and describes life there as the owner of one of Tel Aviv’s first nightclubs as well as life during the 6-day war and other conflicts.

Verdict: This was a really well written and insightful book, whether that was due to Mandy or her co-writer I’m not sure but it was a hugely interesting and enjoyable read.

Death of a Celebrity by MC Beaton

This was another Hamish Macbeth mystery and I’m slowly ploughing on through the entire series. In this one a brash young TV presenter decides to make a new TV series exposing various scandals in Scotland and when she appears in the village of Lochdubh in search of new stories for her TV show, many people are not happy. When she gets murdered Macbeth has to find the culprit.

Verdict: This was a pleasant enough read but I began to lose interest somewhere in the middle and although the case was finally wrapped up, I didn’t find it quite as enjoyable as some of the previous entries in the series.

Young Stalin by Simon Sebag Montefiore

You wouldn’t think that new information about a character like Stalin could be forthcoming in this day and age, however, with the fall of the Soviet Union in the 1990s, the author has searched various archives in Russia and Georgia and unearthed much that is new about Josef Vissarionovitch Djhugashvili.

The future Soviet dictator was born in Georgia. His father was a shoemaker and his mother wanted him to become a priest. Stalin did study as a priest but later became an atheist and left the church to join local revolutionaries in Georgia.

Stalin became one of the leading providers of funds for the revolutionaries. He did this by masterminding numerous bank robberies and sending the funds on to Lenin.

He eluded the Tsarist authorities many times but even so, he had to endure prison as well as exile to Siberia.

Later Stalin ran various printing presses and also edited newspapers for the revolutionaries. In 1917 he was exiled to a place close to the Arctic circle. In exile he read voraciously and became close to the hunters who used the reindeer in much the same way as the Native Americans used the buffalo. They used them for food, their used skins for clothing and protection from the cold and to a great extent worshipped these creatures for their sustenance.

When the revolution of 1917 broke out, Stalin headed for St Petersburg to link up with Lenin, even at one point disguising Lenin and helping him evade the police.

When Lenin and the Bolsheviks were able to take power from the provisional government after convincing the Soviets, councils of workers and soldiers, to side with them, Stalin was made a commissar, a minister, in Lenin’s new government.

The various faces of the young Stalin

It has always seemed to me that Stalin was the cruel and hardline man and Lenin was the thinker, the politician. In fact, Lenin was a hard and ruthless man too. When someone decreed that no more shootings would take place under the Bolsheviks it was Lenin who called for more shootings. It’s a revolution he said, people must be shot! He liked Stalin because he knew Stalin was ruthless and could get things done. Later, when he realised that Stalin craved power for himself, he tried to have him removed from the leadership but by then he was sick and dying and it was too late.

This is a book about young Stalin and so the book finishes with the October revolution and Stalin’s appointment as one of Lenin’s commissars or ministers. There is an interesting epilogue though and reveals Stalin as an old man visiting his Dacha on the Black Sea coast. He invites many former friends and comrades who he had known in the past and even laments the death of many old comrades even though they were all shot on his orders.

It also gives the chance for the author to reveal the fates of various characters that have crossed paths with Stalin during his early life.

One interesting story which I read in the author’s other book, The Court of the Red Czar, occurred in 1941 when the Nazis invaded Russia. Stalin was a great reader as I mentioned earlier and he was sure after reading Hitler’s Mein Kampf that the Nazi leader would never attack Russia when he was still fighting a war with the west. Despite many warnings, the attack came and Stalin was silent for many weeks. Eventually his generals came to see him. They wanted orders and plans to combat the Nazis. Stalin clearly thought they had come for another reason. His first words were ‘have you come to arrest me?’

It would probably have been better for them and the country if they had.

Verdict: A excellent and well researched biography.

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Reading Books and Thoughts from a Sun Lounger

Posted on by Steve Higgins

I thought for this week’s post I’d do a combination post, a little of my book bag mixed with some sun lounger thoughts. Let’s see how it all pans out.

Just now we have finished our touring part of the holiday and we have come to our rented gîte where we have parked the van and are spending time in this wonderful house that we regularly rent just outside the small village of Parçay-les-Pins.

I quite often, back in England, watch that TV show about people who want to buy a new house abroad. It’s called A Place in the Sun and it’s aways interesting to watch couples look for a dream home, especially when it features a location we know a little about like France or Lanzarote for instance. Sometimes the contestants -for want of a better word- will come across what I think is a really nice place and will criticise it and start saying how they will rip the kitchen out and knock this wall down and I really want to slap the pair of them. Now and then, the show will produce something really nice and the couple will fall in love with it, put in a bid and find themselves the new owners of a fabulous house in the sun.

Sitting by the pool outside this house in France I do feel that it’s really a place that Liz and I have both fallen for. It’s an old country house with very thick walls and our bedroom is a modern extension with an en-suite bathroom. In a morning our usual routine is for me to get up, make a brew and bring it back to bed and for Liz and I to check our emails and then see who will be victorious in a card game we play together on our iPads. Those thick walls come into play here though as being so thick we don’t get much of an internet signal in the bedroom so one of us will have to reach out for our phone and switch on our internet hotspot so we can play.

Card game done it’s time for breakfast and then out to the pool for a swim, a read and some sunbathing. Here’s the first of my holiday reads;

The Lady in the Van

I saw the film version of this a few years ago which was pretty good, if a little odd. It was presented in a very peculiar way in that the author, Alan Bennett, is portrayed as two people, one as himself as he appears in the story and two, as himself as he writes the story. That oddity aside it was really a rather good and original film. When I heard there was a book version I quickly went to one my usual internet book stores and promptly bought it.

I was disappointed to find that it was a very slim volume, only 100 pages in fact and the author might have been better saving it for a collection of short stories. Anyway, it actually made me feel better about my own book, Floating in Space, which is also a rather thin book, though I might add, much longer than this.

Anyway, moving on to the story it was a rather good read. It’s about an oddball character, an old lady who parks outside Alan Bennett’s house in a van and stays there for some time, actually living in the van. She appeared sometime in the 1970’s and when double yellow lines appeared moved into the author’s driveway, staying there until her death in 1989.

The lady, the enigmatic Miss Shepherd, lived in her van continually throughout the year, rain or shine, hot or cold and the author tells her story using his own diary entries. It’s a funny story but also a sad one too. When the lady passes away, he is forced to go through her things in the van;

“…I realised I had to grit my teeth (or hold my nose) and go through Miss Shepherd’s possessions.
To do the job properly would have required a team of archaeologists. Every surface was covered in layers of old clothes, frocks, blankets and accumulated papers, some of them undisturbed for years, and all lying under a crust of ancient talcum powder. Sprinkled impartially over wet slippers, used incontinence pads and half-eaten tins of baked beans, it was of a virulence that supplemented rather than obliterated the distinctive odour of the van. The narrow aisle between the two banks of seats where Miss Shepherd had knelt, prayed and slept was trodden six inches deep in sodden debris, on which lay a top dressing of old food, Mr Kipling cakes, wrinkled apples, rotten oranges and everywhere batteries – batteries loose, batteries in packets, batteries that had split and oozed black gum on to the prehistoric sponge cakes and ubiquitous sherbet lemons that they lay among”

In the van he finds about £6000 in cash and a name and telephone number. Bennett calls the number to find the man at the other end has never heard of Miss Shepherd but then after he describes her, the man realises Miss Shepherd was his sister, although she had for some reason been using an assumed name. Alan Bennett had a love/hate relationship with this strange old lady for many years and came to -I was going to say like, but that’s not the right word. He came to be connected to her in a strange way until one day her social worker arrived with some clean clothes only to find her dead in the van.

To sum up, this was a lovely read even though it only lasted a couple of days for me but I think now I might look out for more of Alan Bennett’s books.

Vide Greniers and Brocantes

Liz and I always visit a village fête at the weekend, usually those with a vide grenier or brocante attached. A vide grenier is just a car boot sale which we both love. I usually pick up connecting leads for my laptop or iPad, after all, you can never have enough electrical leads. Brocantes are more like flea markets or antique fairs. Just the kind of place to pick up those old telephones that I still love, especially those Bakelite ones.

We visited a couple of vide greniers last weekend although the rain put off a great many sellers. The refreshments area was still open though and I ordered sausages and frites undercover from the rain while Liz nipped over to the covered bar across the way and ordered two glasses of vin rouge.

Over the years I’ve picked up various things at French vide greniers including pin badges, glasses and decanters as well as old telephones, cables (of course) old photos and paintings including a framed poster from the Le Mans 24 hour race. What else? A small bust of General de Gaulle which sits on my mantelpiece back home and numerous other things which took my fancy.

Plenty of times we have sheltered in makeshift bars until a rain shower has passed over and the sellers have peeled away plastic covers to reveal their goods.

My Word is my Bond by Roger Moore

I picked this book up ages ago and thought it would be a good holiday read. I’ve always liked Roger Moore even though I absolutely hate his James Bond films. I love Moore’s self-deprecating humour, plenty of which is evident in this book. The first part of the book was really interesting and entertaining but like a lot of celebrity autobiographies, this one just gets a little tedious when Roger just seems to list the films and locations and other celebrities he seems to know. On the back of the book was a review claiming this to be the best film autobiography since David Niven’s The Moon’s a Balloon. Sorry but I can’t agree. Roger reveals numerous ‘funny’ incidents from behind the scenes of his films, all of which must have been from the ‘you had to be there’ category because I didn’t think they were that funny. His marriage to his third wife fizzles out with no explanation and the last section is just an endless list of his various travels as a UNICEF ambassador.

He seems to have had a great deal of fun making the Bond films but for me his tenure as 007 marked the series fall from serious spy films into farce. The crazy thing is that after making his first Bond film, Live and Let Die, in which he comes over as a sort of stuffed dummy rather than an action hero, he made a film called Gold. In Gold he starred as the boss of a goldmine and really looked the part of a very tough guy indeed so why he couldn’t have done that as Bond is beyond me.

I prefer to remember Roger as the star of The Saint and The Persuaders, two TV action and adventure classics I loved. Anyway, this was for the most part an entertaining read but don’t think for a moment that it comes anywhere close to David Niven’s classic book.

That’s all from me. The sun has come out so it’s time to put my laptop away and enjoy the pool.

Bye for now!

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Travelling and Writing in France

Posted on by Steve Higgins

Once again Liz and I are in France in our small motorhome. This week I thought I’d talk about our journey and also about my personal journey as a writer.

We came over on the ferry from Portsmouth to Caen after spending the night in a small pub called the Jolly Boatman somewhere in the south of England, actually Kidlington, I think. We have visited this pub once before back in May and it was nice to find that the staff remembered us even after just one visit. The trip over on the ferry was good. We paid a little extra for a top of the range cabin and it was well worth it. We had a little balcony, a tv, kettle and various cold drinks in the fridge. After a bit of a sleep and a shower, we awoke refreshed and ready to find a place to stop for the night in France.

The great thing about France is that motorhomes are welcomed with plenty of free overnight stopping places with toilet emptying facilities and fresh water. Some places require a jeton, a token that can be bought in local shops to obtain fresh water but otherwise most places are free. In England, many seaside places seem to just complain about motorhomes parking up for free but surely those motorhomers are using local shops, bars and restaurants and bringing trade into these local communities.

The Jolly Boatman

The weather wasn’t great at first so we ploughed on south towards Bordeaux in search of the sun. Liz is a great navigator and a real master of google maps and she found us some lovely stopping places, one in particular with a man made beach and a lovely swimming lake. We needed that lake to cool down as the weather became seriously hot.

When I’m away I like to have a couple of blog posts written in advance as travelling in our van I don’t always have time to write. Not only that sometimes it’s hard to get a good wifi signal to upload my posts. Recently I’ve been not only lazy but actually struggling a little  for blog post ideas. A few months ago I met up with an old friend I hadn’t seen for a while and he seemed less than convinced that I could write a new post every week. I’ll bet you use ai to write them he joked. I wasn’t amused.

To be honest, I do use ai, not to write posts but to make the quirky memes and graphics that I use to promote my blogs. This is one over to the right. I had never even thought about using ai to actually write a post. Even so, I thought as I was a bit low on ideas it might be interesting to ask ai what I should write about. It came up with a plan for a post asking me to answer various questions about my work. Anyway, here are a few of them.

Share how you got started writing and what inspired your first book.

I can’t really remember what inspired me to write. I can only say that having been a great reader, I wanted to be on the other side of the coin, so to speak: Not just reading the thoughts and ideas of others but also sending my own thoughts and ideas out there too. I like the feeling of communicating not only to others but communicating over the years. I remember reading Homer’s Odyssey and thinking that here was this man, Homer, sending me his thoughts and ideas across the centuries that lie between us and that his ideas carried on after his death.

Talk about your creative routines (or lack of them) — do you write in bursts, or steadily each day? 

I’d like to tell you that I have a routine but actually I haven’t, although I do try to create a sort of routine. What I tend to do is think a lot about writing. I’ll think of a story or a blog, usually the time in a morning when I have woken up far too early and I’ll ‘write’ a blog or a story in my head. I’ll file that away in my head and then either go back to sleep or get up and after breakfast I’ll open up my laptop and write it all down. Sometimes I’ll spend weeks writing a story in my head and when I’ve got a lot of ‘copy’ I’ll start actually writing or typing it out. Years ago I used to use a technique by a self improvement guy called Jack Black who invented something he called Mindstore, a way of using positive thinking to improve your life.

It involved creating an entire imaginary house inside your head with various rooms, just like in a real house. In the bathroom for instance, you could take a breathtaking shower that energised and restored you ready for a big meeting or interview. One room I created was a room for storing my stories and when I’m not in front of my laptop that’s the room I use to write and save my work. My website and my one deadline of 10:00am on a Saturday morning gives me a focus to work at my stories and blog posts and get them ready for publishing. Writing this week has been difficult as Liz and I are working our way across France in our little motorhome although by the time you read this we will have arrived at the lovely gîte we rent in the village of Parçay-les-Pins.

Explore what you love (and what you struggle with) about being self-published.

I love writing and I love publishing my work. I write purely for myself and I write about things I like reading about but I do get a particular buzz every time someone hits that ‘like’ button. What do I dislike about it? Well, I did hope that I could actually make money from writing but so far, that’s just a dream although I do make a few pennies every time someone buys a copy of one of my books. Anyway, I enjoy writing and I’ll carry on writing my blog for as long as I continue to enjoy it. When I no longer enjoy it, I guess I’ll just have to find something else to do. What do I struggle with? Grammar and spelling mostly but luckily, Liz is pretty hot on both of those things and it is she who goes through my work and gives it a good checking over and she’ll correct all the bad tenses and spelling mistakes that appear frequently in my blogs.

A few days ago it was our anniversary. The day before we were parked in a really lovely place with picnic tables and a lake and I thought it would be a good idea to stay and move on the next day. Liz felt that she would rather have a good restaurant anniversary meal so we set off in search of a place to eat that night. Now, the thing about the Loire is that the French don’t seem to eat out much at night. There are plenty of restaurants but most only seem to open for lunch which is the main meal of the day for the French. We tried and tried to find a place but all seemed to be only open for lunch. We found one place, conveniently near a motorhome parking spot but the menu was not only very expensive but didn’t inspire either of us. It was getting later and later and eventually we decided to stop when we saw a kebab takeaway. Takeaways are few and far between in France so we bought a couple of kebabs, parked up for the night and poured us both a glass of vin rouge.

The wine was good but the kebab wasn’t but happily we had plenty of French cheese and bread to round off the meal!

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Favourite Directors: (Part 5) Billy Wilder

Posted on by Steve Higgins

One of my favourite stories about Billy Wilder goes like this. One day, late in his career, he arrived at a Hollywood studio to pitch a new idea to a producer. The producer turned out to be a young man who clearly didn’t know much about classic cinema. He told Billy that he wasn’t familiar with his work and could he perhaps run through a few of his films for him.
Billy looked at the man and said, “Fine, after you . . .”

I’m betting that whatever this guy had produced it couldn’t compare with Billy’s dazzling line-up of classic films.

Billy Wilder was born in 1906 in Sucha Beskidzka, a town now in Poland but then part of the Austro-Hungarian empire. Billy was born Samuel but his mother had been to America and seen Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show. She enjoyed it so much she decided to nickname her son Billy. The family later moved to Vienna, where his father Max tried his hand at various business ventures, including being part-owner of a hotel-restaurant.

The young Wilder developed a taste for sharp observation early on. He worked as a newspaper reporter in Vienna and was very keen on jazz. His articles about bandleader Paul Whiteman led to an invitation to follow the band to Berlin and Billy decided to stay on as a freelance reporter. Berlin in the 1920s was alive with ideas, cabaret, and cinema and Wilder soaked it all in. He began to mingle with people from the German film industry and soon moved into screenwriting.

Wilder received screen credit for 13 films produced in Germany between 1929 and 1933, but his promising career in Berlin was cut short. In 1933, the Nazis came to power. That year his father died and Wilder arranged for him to be buried in a Jewish cemetery in Berlin. With Hitler consolidating power and Jews being targeted, Wilder realised he had no future in Germany. After the Reichstag fire, he fled to Paris. There, he continued screenwriting and even co-directed his first film, Mauvaise Graine (1934). Shortly afterwards, he sold a script to Columbia Studios in Hollywood, and with that invitation he sailed for America.

Breaking into Hollywood

Wilder’s early days in Hollywood weren’t easy. His English was poor and he shared an apartment with fellow émigré Peter Lorre and made ends meet by hustling for work.

What Wilder did have though, was persistence and wit. He began writing screenplays with Charles Brackett, a more established writer with fluent English. The Wilder-Brackett partnership became one of the most productive in Hollywood, blending Brackett’s sophistication with Wilder’s bite. Together they worked on hits such as Ninotchka (1939), a satirical comedy famously marketed with the tagline: “Garbo Laughs!”

That success cemented Wilder’s reputation and he began to move from writing into directing. He felt screenwriters were too often mistreated by directors and the only way to protect his work was to get behind the camera himself.

Wilder the Director

Wilder’s breakthrough as a director came with Double Indemnity (1944), a dark tale of lust, greed and murder. Co-written with Raymond Chandler, the film became a defining example of film noir. Wilder used shadows, venetian blinds and Los Angeles locations to give the story a hard-edged realism. It was controversial at the time—Barbara Stanwyck plotting insurance fraud and murder was considered scandalous—but it became a critical and commercial success.

From there, the hits kept coming. Wilder had an uncanny ability to move between genres: crime thrillers, social dramas, romantic comedies and biting satires. His motto was “If you’re going to tell the truth, be funny or they’ll kill you.”

In The Lost Weekend (1945), Wilder tackled alcoholism with unflinching honesty. The film, starring Ray Milland, was one of the first Hollywood movies to show addiction as a serious disease rather than a comic weakness. It won four Academy Awards, including Best Picture and Best Director.

Then came Sunset Boulevard (1950), perhaps Wilder’s masterpiece and my personal favourite of Wilder’s films. The film begins with a dead man floating in a swimming pool, narrating his own murder—a narrative device that was bold, even shocking at the time. Gloria Swanson’s portrayal of fading silent film star Norma Desmond gave us one of cinema’s most haunting lines. Writer Joe Gillis played by William Holden is trying to get away from two guys who want to repossess his car. To evade them he drives into what he thinks is an abandoned mansion. He is surprised to find it occupied by the once famous silent film star Norma Desmond played by Gloria Swanson. He recognises her and comments “You used to be in silent pictures. You used to be big.” Norma replies, “I am big. It’s the pictures that got small.” The movie was both a scathing satire of Hollywood and a deeply human tragedy. It’s also interesting from a lot of angles; we see the famous Schwab’s drug store, once a Hollywood icon but now gone. Director Cecil B DeMille plays himself and when we see Joe and Norma spending an evening watching her old films, they are actually Gloria Swanson’s old films and one was directed by none other than Erich Von Stroheim who plays Norma’s butler and former husband.

Comedy with an Edge

Although Wilder made some of the darkest films in Hollywood, he was equally skilled at comedy. In fact, many of his comedies remain among the most beloved of all time. Some Like It Hot (1959) paired Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis as musicians on the run, disguising themselves as women in an all-female band. Add Marilyn Monroe to the mix and you had comedy gold. The film was outrageous for its time and famously ends with Joe E. Brown’s immortal line, “Nobody’s perfect.”

Marilyn tested both Wilder and her co stars as she was notoriously late and struggled with her lines. One infamous scene required 47 takes and all Monroe had to say was ‘it’s me, Sugar’. Wilder wasn’t happy because Marilyn wanted to change scenes and dialogue which he didn’t want to do. The final result though was a classic comedy.

The film’s closing line, “Well, nobody’s perfect”, is ranked 78th on The Hollywood Reporter list of Hollywood’s 100 Favourite Movie Lines and Wilder’s tombstone pays homage to the line with the inscription, “I’m a writer, but then, nobody’s perfect”.

Two years later, Wilder directed The Apartment (1960), a film that managed to be both romantic and cynical. Jack Lemmon plays an office worker who lets his bosses use his apartment for their affairs, only to fall for Shirley MacLaine’s elevator operator. The film mixes laughter with melancholy, revealing Wilder’s genius for blending tones. It won five Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Screenplay.

Wilder also directed Sabrina (1954), with Audrey Hepburn caught between Humphrey Bogart and William Holden, and The Seven Year Itch (1955), which gave us the iconic image of Monroe’s skirt billowing over a subway grate. He seemed to have a knack for capturing cultural moments while keeping his characters grounded and relatable.

Wilder’s Style and Legacy

What made Billy Wilder so special? Partly it was his range. Few directors could move from the bleak cynicism of Ace in the Hole (1951), a savage attack on media exploitation, to the screwball energy of Some Like It Hot. He didn’t stick to one style or genre; instead, he reshaped them.

His dialogue sparkled with wit, but underneath there was always truth. Wilder had an outsider’s eye—he never forgot that he was an immigrant looking at America with both fascination and scepticism. His characters often chase the American dream but collide with its hypocrisies and disappointments.

Wilder also had a reputation for precision. He was meticulous with scripts, often refusing improvisation. “You have to have a dream so you can get up in the morning,” he once said, “but dreams don’t last long.” His films carried that same bittersweet edge.

By the end of his career, Wilder had won six Oscars and left behind a body of work that filmmakers still study. When asked how he wanted to be remembered, he reportedly quipped: “I’m a writer, but then nobody’s perfect.

The Final Word

Billy Wilder died in 2002 at the age of 95. He had outlived most of his contemporaries and watched Hollywood change beyond recognition. Yet his films remain fresh. Watch Sunset Boulevard today, or Some Like It Hot; both are hugely entertaining.

So, when that young producer asked Wilder to list his films, he was showing his ignorance of a screen legend. His legacy speaks louder than any pitch meeting. And the truth is, even if “nobody’s perfect,” Billy Wilder came pretty close.

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My Early Life: The Book, the Film and the Soundtrack Album

Posted on by Steve Higgins

I first read My Early Life by Winston Churchill many years ago. I picked up a paperback copy which tied in with the release of the film version and also along the way I got hold of the soundtrack album and later a VHS copy of the film. In this week’s blog I thought I’d take a closer look at all three.

Rooting around in a secondhand shop in St Annes recently I picked up a hardback copy of Winston Churchill’s book My Early Life. It’s a thoroughly wonderful book written in Churchill’s inimitable style. He says in the introduction he has written a book about a vanished age and indeed he has. Churchill was born in 1974 at Blenheim Palace in Oxfordshire. He was the son of Lord Randolph Churchill who was in turn the son of the 7th Duke of Marlborough. His mother was an American, Jennie Jerome, the daughter of an American businessman. She married Lord Randolph and became Lady Churchill.

Lady Churchill was a great influence on his life although in his very early years young Winston looked to his nanny, Mrs Everest, for motherly support. His father, Lord Randolph, was someone whom Winston loved and adored but never seemed to become close to. After the birth of Winston, Randolph began to suffer a debilitating disease which could have been syphilis. Others have speculated it was a brain tumour. Either way, Randolph died in 1894.

Looking back, I must have seen the film version before I read the book. Young Winston was directed by Richard Attenborough and is a wonderful adaptation of the book. When Winston first attends school, which of course was boarding school, his headmaster was played by Robert Hardy and he directs Winston to learn some Latin. Winston doesn’t do very well and the headmaster glares down at him and informs him that if he misbehaves, he will be punished, which to a great extent was Churchill’s overall view of school. Later he comments about exams ‘they always contrived to question me about things I didn’t know. I would much rather they asked me about things I did know.

In the book Winston records his schooldays with a great deal of charm and humour. He goes on to attend Harrow and as he intends to join the army goes to special army classes.  Winston seems to have enjoyed his army training and was keen to see action. He took leave with a friend and went to observe events in Cuba where revolutionaries were fighting their Spanish colonial rulers.

Winston was a second lieutenant in the 4th Hussars and spent a long time in India. He was a great lover of polo and he and his colleagues won an inter service championship in their first year in the country, a feat never achieved before by a recently arrived regiment.

Churchill was keen, as I said before, to see action and joined Bindon Blood’s Malakand Field Force and later wrote a book about the campaign. The book was popular and Churchill even received a letter of praise from the Prince of Wales. Because of his mother and father, Churchill was well connected in both political and aristocratic circles and later used his contacts and those of his mother to attach himself to General Kitchener’s campaign in the Sudan. He was part of one of the British Army’s very last cavalry charges in the battle of Omdurman in 1898.

The charge was depicted in the film Young Winston and in his book Churchill ponders about fate and a problem with his shoulder which necessitated using his revolver rather than his sword during the charge, reflecting that if he had been using his sword he might well have been killed in the latter stages when he was surrounded by the enemy.

He ponders many times too about war in the Victorian age. How it was honourable and respectable. He mentions how officers would stop for lunch before a battle and how casualties, which were sometimes considered heavy, were nothing like the heavy casualties suffered in the later world war. If technology had taken away the honour of war in 1914, how would Churchill react to war in 2025 I wonder?

The Victorian age was an age of courtesy and respect and one of my favourite stories in the book occurs when Winston was at Sandhurst. It was the custom then, if an officer wanted leave for a few hours, to sign a book and declare himself absent. One day when visiting friends Winston passed his commanding officer Major Ball, a very strict and formal officer, on the road and realised he had forgotten to sign himself out. He cut short his visit, returned to Sandhurst hoping to add his name before the Major checked the book. Sadly, he found Major Ball’s signature at the end of the page. Would he be disciplined thought Winston? What would his punishment be? Looking further up the list Winston was surprised to find that his name had been added and countersigned by none other than Major Ball himself. Winston writes that this was a clear indication of how discipline could be maintained among officers without departing from the courteous and respectful standards of the time.

Having failed to become an MP for the Oldham constituency he went to South Africa to report on the Boer war as a correspondent. He travelled on an armoured train which was attacked by the Boers and he was captured and imprisoned in a POW camp.

One of things I particularly liked about Young Winston was the music. I bought the soundtrack album in 1985. The music for the film was in the main composed by Sir Alfred Ralston. He was brought into the film by director Attenborough as the two had worked together on a previous film, ‘Oh what a Lovely War’. The soundtrack features music by Edward Elgar, notably the Pomp and Circumstance March no 4 as well as Nimrod from the Enigma Variations.

According to the sleeve notes, the pistol used by Simon Ward who played Winston in the film was Churchill’s actual Mauser and it can be seen pretty well during a sequence when Churchill travels to south Africa to report on the Boer war as a newspaper correspondent. He travels with a unit who undertake a recce on an armoured train only to find the train attacked by the Boers on their return journey. Winston played a big part in helping remove a wrecked train from the line only for himself to not only be captured but also to lose his pistol. The pistol was returned to him in later years.

Churchill ended up in a POW camp but resolved to escape despite also claiming to the Boers that he was a correspondent and should not have been detained. With the help of a group of Lancashire miners, Winston stowed away on a goods train and made his way back to the British lines.

The incident made him famous back in the UK and when he next ran for parliament in Oldham, he was duly elected. The tone of the book becomes more serious towards the final pages but overall this is an outstanding read by one of this country’s greatest sons.

The film version was almost just as good. Simon Ward gives us an admirable picture of the young Winston with just the right hint of the great man’s later style and speaking voice.

I first saw this film at the cinema where I greatly enjoyed it and I remember it coming to television some years later. The film finishes with a poignant dream sequence which, I remember reading somewhere, was based on something Churchill either said or wrote. In the dream, a much older Winston meets his father but he is not the unwell man of his later years but restored to full health. Randolph asks Winston about great events and Churchill answers telling of the two World Wars. ‘Did Joe Chamberlain ever become Prime Minister?’ asks Randolph. ‘No’ answers Winston, ‘but one of his sons did, Neville’.

Winston mentions that he has resigned his commission in the army. Randolph looks about at the many paintings and asks Winston if this is what he does. Winston answers that painting occupies much of his time. Randolph thinks for a moment and then tells Winston to ‘do the best you can’ and we see the sleeping Churchill smile at the thought.

I’ve always liked this final sequence but when I bought my VHS copy the scene was omitted. Likewise, every time I have since seen the film on television, this scene has always been removed. I’d love to know why. Perhaps the producers thought the film too long or perhaps preferred the new ending in which Winston talks briefly in a voiceover about his marriage and living ‘happily ever after’. After a search on the internet I came across a post which claimed that Carl Foreman, who wrote and produced the film, found that US audiences occasioned so little reaction to the scene that he promptly had it cut. What reaction was he expecting to see I wonder?

Perhaps it’s time for a search on eBay. I’m sure that somewhere there must be a definitive DVD version of the film and if you ever get the chance, give the book a read, it’s one of my absolute favourites.

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Comfort Food

Posted on by Steve Higgins

I started off this post with the title food memories, not meaning memories of food but more the memories that are conjured up by eating food. What I’m really talking about is comfort food and the way food can comfort you by bringing back old and comfortable memories.

I’m going to start with ham sandwiches. To begin with I love bread and I love sandwiches. One of the recent highlights -if I can use that word in this context- of my brother’s recent funeral (maybe highlights is the wrong word after all) was the buffet. I really do love a good buffet. Sandwiches, obviously, pork pies, sausage rolls, salads; yes I love all that. Not long ago I was alone and missing my brother and feeling a little sorry for myself and so I made myself a cup of tea and a ham sandwich and as I was eating it a whole raft of memories seemed to sail by.

I used to come home for my school dinners and the usual sort of thing we would have for lunch were sandwiches. Sometimes cheese, sometimes corned beef but more often than not we’d have ham sandwiches. Nothing fancy, just plain old boiled ham on white bread. Later, when we had moved house and I no longer came home for dinner, my mother would make me up a lunchbox with sandwiches and sometimes her home made cakes.

Later still when I started work in city centre Manchester what did she push into my hands as I left for work? Yes, my trusty lunchbox filled with ham sandwiches.

When I was no longer living at home, I would occasionally spend my dinner breaks having a pub lunch or eating in our work’s canteen although usually I’d bring my own sandwiches. Even at my very last job, just prior to retiring, if you came across me in our rest area I’d be sat with a cup of tea and a sandwich, more often than not ham on white bread.

Probably the very first thing I could make for myself was tomato soup. Well, I didn’t actually make it. No, I opened the can, emptied it into a pan and warmed it up. To this day I love tomato soup. I sometimes even have it in restaurants. I just think soup is the perfect starter to a meal and I must confess, I’m more of a starter and main person than a main and dessert man.

Just thinking about tomato soup brings back memories of sitting in my mum’s kitchen slurping my soup and telling Bob, our dog, that no meat was involved and he was wasting his time tapping my leg with his paw as no tit bits would be forthcoming.

A slightly unrelated picture: Cheese in a French restaurant with a pichet of vin rouge

Mum had a very sunny kitchen and I can vaguely remember sitting there on the day I first started work, eating my porridge and drinking my tea and feeling slightly apprehensive. My dad set off for work on his bike and mum gave him his sandwiches and brew can before he left. Perhaps he wished me good luck as he left, perhaps he just gave a sort of nod to me and mum and then went on his way. Anyway, just as I was leaving, mum gave me my lunch of ham sandwiches and then I walked down to the bus stop and joined the other commuters on their way to work.

The dish that I first learned to actually make was boiled eggs. I like my eggs not too runny and not too hard preferably served with two slices of toast. I don’t have then very often these days but Liz does make really good boiled eggs. When I make them, they either come out hard or with the white not done enough although there was a time when I was much younger when I could do them perfectly. Two eggs and two rounds of lightly done toast make a lovely breakfast.

Boiled eggs and toast: Yummy

Another comfort food for me is a cheese and ham toastie. Cheese and ham are two of my favourite ingredients so why not add them together for a really comforting snack. Two slices of white bread, buttered on the outside. Add a slice of ham, some grated cheddar cheese and chopped onion and slap them either on a toastie maker or dry fry them in a pan. I tend to cook them on my George Foreman grill and they are so nice for a late evening snack with a glass of red wine of course.

Years ago, when I started work on the buses my friends told me that would be the end of my social life because of shifts and early starts and late finishes. As it happened nothing could have been further from the truth. Because we worked such odd hours it seemed to me that me and my colleagues were even more determined to socialise. After early shifts we were down at the busman’s club playing snooker, pool or cards. It was the same after a late shift. Our club was open till 12 so we would be able to get in for a last pint and a quick game of cards or pool. Personally, I have never been interested in cards but back in those afternoons after the end of an early shift I learned to play snooker. I was a pretty keen player for a while; I even had my own cue.

Sometimes we even went down to a local night club, Genevieve’s, where the bouncers used to let us in as long as we took off our bus badges.

After a split shift finishing round about 7 I used to either visit a pub not far from the depot or up to the club and something that they both served was a cheese and ham toastie. Eating one today reminds me of early evenings either in a Stockport pub called the Unity, now sadly closed, or our busman’s club. The only food the club served apart from crisps and nuts was a toastie. I’d usually have one while waiting for either the pool or the snooker table with a pint of Boddingtons listening to the banter of my fellow busmen.

Here’s one final food memory. As we’ve had a certain amount of hot weather lately, Liz and I have been having an increased number of barbecues. We are cooking the usual stuff of course; burgers, kebabs and steaks. We also have some vegetarian elements like padron peppers and mini sweetcorns. We also have been having home grown new potatoes. They are not actually cooked on the barbecue although we do tend to warm them up on the heat when they have cooled down. New potatoes are wonderful with just a knob of butter. At our last barby I ate them with coleslaw which brought back another bus related food memory.

In the last few years of GM Buses, when the government forced the splitting of the company into two separate parts, GM Buses North and GM Buses South, I was working in Metro Comms, our communications room. I was allocated to GM Buses North and I wasn’t very happy as our comms room was in the heart of GM south territory. Originally Atherton depot was earmarked for the North comms room and I bought a house in Newton-le-Willows, a short drive away. Then the company decided to switch comms to Oldham giving me an hour drive to work. Not only that, sometimes in the winter I would leave Newton in the rain and arrive at work in Oldham to find two foot of snow.

Still, we had a nice set up in Oldham, a nice comms room to ourselves which our bosses and supervisors rarely visited and a nice kitchen which we shared with a couple of computer guys and the HR staff. Naturally I usually had sandwiches for lunch but sometimes in the summer I’d walk up to the shopping centre and get myself a baked potato and coleslaw from a street food vendor who had a small stall with a portable oven. One day I made my way up there, ordered my spud and realised I had forgotten my wallet (a trick perfected by my colleagues in the Noble Order of Tightwads) and he said ‘never mind, give me the money tomorrow’ which was really nice of him.

There we go then, that’s my short list of comfort foods, all of which bring back good memories.

What are your comfort foods?

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