March 4th 2012

Filmwise: Have begun to re-online the entire film. Hopefully, I will be able to dedicate the whole of next weekend to the process.

An embarrassment of riches..

As a consequence of the thesis that at times felt like a millstone around my neck , followed by the post-production purgatory, evenings out with friends have been quite few and far between. Until this week!

I think I must have broken some sort of a pre-thesis and film record by attending two birthday parties within the same week.

The first was Daniel’s, and it offered a great opportunity to catch up with him and Kate, and with Paul Hills, Jonnie Hurn and a few family members of Paul’s new film The Power.

The second party was for Stew, a comrade from the night shift and a dear friend.

The evening allowed me the chance to chat with Stew, and three fellow night-shift veterans: Graham, JP and Stephanie.

Stephanie is preparing to go on tour with Rest Upon the Wind, the play about Khalil Gibran. Highly recommended.

En route home, I got talking with JP about his brilliant comic book “London Horror Comic”. I felt so inspired by JP’s one-man-show that has seen the launch of a comic book anthology back in 2006 and the publishing of four issues with high production values, and truly captivating content.

As we said our farewells on the train, JP kindly handed me a copy of the latest issue. Once I began reading, I couldn’t put the book down until I got to the very last page. Love the dark humour and the intentional economy with which dialogue is written. Kudos.

Link to the London Horror Comic website.

Tick tock..

“Hello, is it too late for a haircut?”, I asked the gentleman with scissors, black attire and bright yellow bleached hair at the hair salon on my local high street.

“There is a bit of a wait!”, he said pointing to the five seated people.

Having exchange a resigned look with the young couple taking the chairs at the top of the row of seats, I took out my book . “Thankfully, this happens to be a thoroughly enjoyable read!”

My immersion in the story was slightly thrown off by the negative energy I was sensing from the woman to my left. “Tock tock”, was the first phrase on the top of the page.

The angry, impatient exhaling of air by the said woman made me raise my eyes away from the page and glance to my left.

“Have you been waiting long?”, trying to dissipate the intense atmosphere, I ventured.

“Thirty minutes! I just hope they don’t close before my turn comes.”

Ice cubes rolled off her tongue and fell crashing on the wooden floor as she spoke in a cold Russian accent.

The two hair stylists found their attempt to cut, comb, snip and hair-dry their way through the queue interrupted by people dropping in to purchase a hair-care product.

Another audible, exasperated ejection of air: “They spend three minutes to serve each customer. They’ve had five customers. That’s 15 minutes’ extra wait for me!”

Henry Ford would’ve been proud to see his ethics have travelled so far as Russia.

When it was finally her turn, she spent the first few minutes on the chair trying to convince both hairdressers that the hair treatment she was getting would only need to be left on her hair for 35 minutes, as opposed to the 45 minutes that both stylists were insisting was the norm.

I went back to my book to recommence reading; “tock tock” now read “tick tock”.

Later in the week, I made a last minute dash from the edge of the City to the West End for my weekly fix at the pictures.

“There are three people ahead of me, and each seems to be taking two to three minutes to walk up to the booth and buy the ticket.. Oh, stop imitating the Russian protégé of Henry Ford!”

The second film I watched before heading home that night was Safe House (Dir. Daniel Espinosa, 2012).

The Denzel Washington character famously ends a speech with “tick tock..tick tock!”

Peace and love,


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