Two fours are eight

Some time ago my brother and sister in law asked me if I was buying Gemma any CDs for Christmas. Basically they wanted to get her a couple and wanted to get in first so I'd have to think of something else. Well, I knew that Gemma wanted the Madonna CD, that was their first idea and so I conceeded. Then they came up with Robbie Williams. I said, "Please don't get ther that". "Why?" they asked. "Because then I'll have to listen to it". Anyway they did and after dinner just now, Gemma announced that she was going to try it for the first time and hence I am upstairs typing this. The good news is that Mr Williams has only lasted a couple of tracks and I can hear that she has switched to the X&Y which she bought me for Christmas along with Emimem and Gorillaz , When I was maybe thirteen I was played F*** Off by the Electric Chairs by Debbie Jarvis and I have to say I was a little embarrassed at the language (particularly in the company of a lady) but the Eminem chap could wipe the f***ing big ass mother floor with them on the rude words front I reckon. At least I don't seem to be as easy to embarrass as I was, although for it to be a like for like test, I would need to track down Ms Jarvis.

Match Point ***

A film of two halves. I suggest that you find out when it is showing at your local cinema and turn up about half way through. I can fill you in on the first half; ex tennis pro meets nobby English family starts a relationship with the daughter and has a fling with the son's bird, played by Scarlett Johanssen (whose presence, in my opinion, would redeem the first half of any rubbish film). There you are, saved an excrutiating hour of your life. The problem is about pace but more about plausibility. The patriarch mega wealthy businessman is played in the style of a beige buffoon; I could not accept that such a person exists. His son, who is the best actor in the film would, in real life, have spotted that his brother in law was up to something. No one else is particularly believeable, Mr Allen needs to get out more (in Britain).

I was deterred from walking out as the beginning of the second half of the film saw the building of some tension. I wanted to find out what would happen and I enjoyed tutting at the fact that the makers of the film were giving American's considering applying for a passport to come to London, the idea that you can get from the Fulham Rd to the City in 5 minutes in a cab (and such like).

Finally Mr Allen pulls a rabbit out of the hat by leaving us with our heads filled with dilemma. He brings to a head the idea of luck, which has been popping up regularly for the past couple of hours, are we lucky to avoid mortal punishment or are we damned, lucky anyway.