So, lots of beach walks, laundry and pigging out on the many boxes of Poundshop chocolate bought for me by my heartbroken class. Actually, they weren't quite as heartbroken as I would have liked, after all, I had taught some of those children for 2 years! I didn't notice ANY kids weeping on our last day together. Not even when I prodded them with sharpened HB pencils. Not even when I stabbed them with compasses. Not even when I beat them with meter sticks. It was most irritating. Until, just for old time's sake, as they were lining up to go home, I revealed the ace up my sleeve.
"Year 3/ 4, before you go, let's try this one more time. What is 2p + 2p?"
It worked like a charm. The lamentations were almost biblical.
Today I went to the Tyneside Cinema to see Partir (Leaving). It's a French film with Kristen Scott Thomas. It's been described as a modern-day Lady Chatterley's Lover. I love the brittle fragility of Kristen Scott Thomas. She appears doomed to be typecast in every role she plays. She is always a repressed, upper-class nut-job. She is constantly bedecked in expensive but rumpled linen. This rumpling, of course, communicates her emotional turmoil and her artistic 'caring liberal' sensitivity. I was looking forward to Partir. I was intrigued as to who would be playing the 'Mellors' role. Oh dear: that was a disappointment. In Lady Chatterly Mellors is a brooding, monosyllabic gamekeeper. I imagine him manfully felling trees, gently hand-rearing baby woodcocks, striding, stripped to the waist, through sun-dappled woodland. Mellors is the archetypal swarthy rogue. Sadly, in Partir, the Mellors character was a rather nondescript, mono-browed plumber. Rather than being ravished in a field of daisies and buttercups, the seduction of KST took place in a French B&Q. I felt somewhat cheated by that. Of course, the film ended tragically. Romantic dalliances with mono-browed, swarthy rogues are always fated to end tragically. I have learnt that sorry lesson myself on more than one occasion.
Speaking of Mellors reminds me of the time when Madam Noir, in her pre-lezza days, had a brief infatuation with a swarthy rogue of her own. We called him 'Mellors.' He was a stubbly, Yorkshire tree surgeon. He would refer to Madam Noir as 'me duck'. (I do love Yorkshire accents, there is something very sensual and earthy about them). I think Madam Noir and I were both guilty of romanticising her Yorkshire Mellors though. Nothing came of this dalliance. Madam Noir, who has very exacting standards in all things, could not overlook:
Anyway, I would recommend you check out Partir, despite the down-at-heel Mellors. I was similarly disappointed with the male love-interest in last year's film, Broken Embraces. I loved that film. I thought it was quite beautiful, moving and pleasingly noir-ish. Penelope Cruz was as radiant and luminous as ever. As usual, her eyeliner was equisite. (Why is it that whenever I try to recreate the Penelope Cruz look myself I end up looking like Marilyn Manson?) But, in Broken Embraces, the character Penelope was in love with, her great, all-consuming passion and desire was played by an actor who looked like Ted Rogers, Ted Rogers of 321, Dusty Bin fame. With a little bit of Russ Abbott thrown in for good measure. And a very unconvincing wig. Seriously. Another perfectly wonderful, darkly romantic film ruined. Whatever next, Heathcliff played by Benny Hill? Rochester played by Tommy Cooper? Count Vronsky played by Bobby Thompson?
- The oaf had teeth like tombstones. Indeed, his teeth made Shane McGowan look like Tom Cruise!
- His brain was addled and paranoid from years of daily weed-smoking.
- He hadn't had sex for about 10 years. This, not surprisingly, greatly troubled Madam Noir.
- He wasn't really a tree surgeon, we discovered he was actually more of a school caretaker. At the time, school caretakers were not held in very high regard, thanks to Ian Huntley.
- He lived in a caravan. Or was it a tent? (Madam Noir - remind me please.)
- I also have in my head that he drove a Reliant Robin van, although, I may have just imagined this 'fact'.
I wonder if the whole 'Mellors' experience turned Madam Noir lezza?