Film night at The Millbrooker Towers last night featured the Coen brothers' Barton Fink. A strange one, this movie.
Darkly comic, full of outstanding performances (in particular by John Goodman as a seemingly pleasant neighbour). A grotesque caricature of Hollywood life and the degradation of selling out one's beliefs is compellingly laid out before the audience.
It's often difficult to know whether you're supposed to be laughing or crying. About halfway through the film changes direction from a spoof on film-making into a disturbing portrait of psychosis and deeply damaged people. This change in direction takes the twinkling of an eye and is quite a surprise when it happens. A touch of the Coen genius.
Parts of the movie become quite disjointed and segue into a metaphorical vision of hell (that's how I saw it anyway), and the Coen boys do their trademark sudden ending trick to some considerable effect.
As is usual on these occasions, I feel honour-bound to publish a traditional "here's who was there" photo. Last night we enjoyed the company of Keith, who may or may not have regretted the drop of port at the evening's end this morning. The photo also shows Shazzeroonypoos demonstrating her fine and inimitable conducting technique as she described her experience of seeing La Traviata in Prague.
We drank wine and talked nonsense deep into the night, so I'd like to offer my apologies to any land registry workers who have a fuzzy-headed Sharon-shaped colleague wandering around the office in a bewildered state today.