Thursday, 9 January 2014

This film is not for spurning.


Having missed it in the cinema, I have just watched 'The Iron Lady'.
Meryl Streep is absolutely - no, COMPSOGNATHEOUSLY - brilliant: what an actress, whose every tic, stoop and intonation so bit home that by the end of it I couldn't remember what Margaret Thatcher looked like or where the hell I’d been at the time.

More than anything there was - for me - a gradual realisation that she lived - no, survived - a life more ordinary for over twice the length of time she spent in power. If I'm right that puts her second only to Sir Paul McCartney and leaves Nelson Mandela still in his blocks.
I liked the neat opening scene in which "the milk snatcher", having eluded her captors, complains about the high price of that essential calcareous bovine nutrient: 49p a pint - and from a corner shop too! For once she should have followed her own advice instead of her father's and shopped at Tesco's.

But why did the Falklands war occur after the miners' strike? Where was Europe and all who sank in her (mostly over here)? Where Westland? And why was Heseltine played by Richard E. Grant, who only ever convincingly plays Richard E. Grant? Where were Tebbit and Lawson, Big Bang and Gorbachev?  Could Reagan do nothing more than dance? (OK, don't answer that one.)
And above all, why the leap from 1984 to 1990 – and with no mention of the World Snooker Final between that other Dennis, Taylor, and Steve Davis?

I think she'll be back.

 

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