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Stanley McHale is a single man rapidly approaching thirty who loves and dreams of the same things he did when he was seventeen. But the band was never formed, the novel never finished, and the ill-chosen career in stand-up comedy is giving him more headaches than headlines. With the self-imposed deadline of his thirtieth birthday to either make an international success of himself or go and work in Woolworths, why not pull yourself up ringside seats for the tragically inevitable descent into mania and psychosis by reading his increasingly inane, pedantic, desperate, harrowing and wretched daily diary. It'll make you feel a whole lot better about yourself.

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Thursday 28th September 2006

Posted by on September 28, 2006 3:33 PM | 

Just as my postal mail is depressing until I get sent photographs from my number one enemy, George in Hong Kong, my e-mails are seldom any better.

I like it when I’m sat at the computer and an e-mail beeps in, not only because it could be exciting or a fantastic opportunity (not that it ever is) but because it allows me to stop whatever I’m doing and become distracted. You’ll know of my illness when it comes to finding things to put me off what I’m doing (hoovering, looking out of the window, etc) and incoming e-mails are perfect.

So when one came in today, I eagerly clicked to see what it was, but again was let down. It was just from the FACT Cinema here in Liverpool, telling me what they were showing this week. I nearly didn’t bother with it, but happened to glance at what was on tonight and was astonished to see they were screening, for one night only, one of my favourite films and one I’ve not seen in years and years – The Double Life Of Veronique.

FACT really is fantastic. It’s not an art house cinema, per say, because it’s a commercial venture that shows big releases too, but importantly only good big releases. You won’t get Men In Black III or anything like that on, but you’ll get any blockbuster that they deem to be of interest. These is mixed with independent releases, and interesting offerings from the rest of Europe, quite a bit from the Far East, and indeed the rest of the world.

It’s not pretentious though, and attracts a wide range of people. It’s modern and clean, you can take drinks into the auditorium (there is a sign saying so at the nice bar which is titled ‘How Civilised…’) and basically acts as a great addition to the city.

So I tried to get an impromptu gang together to go and see the film tonight yet was unsuccessful, I went on my own. It’s a Polish / French production from the late, great Krzysztof Kieslowski (who did the Three Colours Trilogy - Blue, White and Red) and like I say, I’ve not seen it in years, probably since I was about 19.

I looked for it on DVD once but it wasn’t available, but speaking to a fellow fan of the film in the bar before we entered the auditorium, it apparently now is. Search it out, do.

The man was waiting for his wife, who was stuck in traffic caused by someone threatening to commit suicide off the Queens Drive flyover by the M62. No-one could move anywhere because of his selfishness (I have since learnt he didn’t jump so I’m not being that insensitive – but such a public act could only be described as selfish whatever the outcome, I care not for his turmoil) and his wife was stuck behind the wheel miles from the cinema.

“Why don’t you leave her ticket at the popcorn stand outside the auditorium, and then tell her you’ll sit at the back, to the side?� I suggested.

He rung her and gave these instructions, and I felt old and wise. I bet even my enemy George in Hong Kong could not be old, wise and Chinese enough to offer such sage advise. But just when I thought I’d made a sensible, adult contribution to the world, I duly messed this up my embarrassing myself.

Sat in the bar was a girl who really grabbed my attention. I thought she was beautiful and had the most charming smile. I thought that seeing as I was in an independent cinema waiting to go and see a Polish / French film I should have a Woody Allen moment and go and talk to her in a rather nerdy, animated and neurotic way. I didn’t do that but, going to the bar to get a drink to take into the film, I wrote my name and phone number on a piece of paper.

I don’t normally do this. I can’t remember the last time I did.

She was sat with another girl, and I initially thought it might be rude of me to go over and give my number to one girl, singling out her to be the one I found attractive, whilst ignoring the other. But then, I could hardly go and give my number to both girls, that would make me look like a mental. The other girl was going to have to accept that she wasn’t as attractive as her friend in my eyes – life is cruel.

So I went over and said “Excuse me, are you going to see The Double Life Of Veronique?�

“No� said the girl.

“Right, well. I wanted to give you this then, because if you’re going to see another film it’s very unlikely I’ll see you again.�

She looked a little embarrassed but smiled and took the number. I should have left it like that but there’s a little bit of me that sometimes thinks I’ve got a sense of humour, which as you’ll know I don’t, and this always messes things up.

“I don’t normally go around doing this, of course. It’s not a habit� I smiled. “And I’m not a mental. Electronic tests have proved that.�

That was a silly and unfunny thing to say but she smiled anyway.

“And three years in prison. I’ve learnt my lesson.�

Oh shut UP, McHale! She smiled more awkwardly this time. Sure, you can assume that she took the prison ‘joke’ as my attempt at humour, but it was quite a strange thing to say and it will probably convince her not to call me. I’d asked her name at some point too, but such is my idiocy I can’t quite remember what it was. Dominique I think.

I can surely consider that one over before it began.

Besides, Lily Farthing is my future wife and so I shouldn’t be straying at this early stage.

I took my place in the auditorium and a man came out and stood before the impressive crowd of about 200 in a black polo neck and black scarf. He was in his 20’s and French. He thanked us for coming, explained it had been very difficult to get a print of The Double Life Of Veronique (they could have played the DVD I suppose but film nerds would have hated that) and thanked us for our support. He then said there would be a special 12 minute film shown first which Kieslowski made when he was a humble documentary filmmaker, before he was let loose on movies.

It was called The Station and just followed people around a station in (Warsaw?) in the 60’s. Grainy black and white. Not bad.

The feature presentation was fantastic, I loved it, and it was especially nice to see it after all this time – like seeing an old friend.

I must go to FACT more. And keep my stupid, unfunny mouth shut.


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