And the 2013 Academy Award for Production Design goes to…
Knocks Stense’s Bafta into a cocked hat, eh? (She knew me before I was famous, you know.)
Top tip, Gruts Gang: BBC1, 8pm, Thursday: Waterloo Road.
No, I’ve never seen it either. But we all have to watch this week’s episode, because it was directed by our mate Stense!
Here’s the official trailer (it might not play on control-freak Apple mobile devices, which don’t allow Flash, in which case, try here):
(Don’t be fooled by Thursday’s opening credits, by the way: it really is directed by Stense, but she’s using her official stage name, Chesty la Roux, or something like that.)
According to the papers, it’s definitely the one to watch this week. Put it in your calendars.
Prime time BBC1. I knew her before she was famous, you know!
☆ ☆ ☆
BEST EPISODE EVER!
Or, as one viewer tweeted:
Waterloo road was TENSE
— Amber’ (@amberr_simon) January 24, 2013
STENSE, Amber’: the name is STENSE!
Sorry for the lack of updates recently: I’ve been busy chasing cows (don’t ask), our main computer’s video card has decided to fry itself, and I’ve generally been run off my feet.
On the nice side, though, I met Stense in North Wales on Monday, and we went for a knackering walk in the hills, followed by a pub lunch, followed by ice-creams and coffees in Llangollen.
Stense point-blank refused to let me take any photos of her this time, so here’s an artist’s impression:
Personally, I don’t think it does Stense any justice at all, but needs must where the Devil Gate Drive.
Jen and I are off to Anglesey for a week soon, so be good while we’re away.
George Orwell’s diary, 09-Aug-1942
Fired the Sten gun for the first time today. No kick, no vibration, very little noise, and reasonable accuracy. Out of about 2500 rounds fired, 2 stoppages, in each case due to a dud cartridge – treatment, simply to work the bolt by hand.
An empty restaurant; a romantic table for two by the window; soft music; sweeping, panoramic views towards the setting sun.
Who says I can’t show a girl a good time?
We had planned our tryst with military precision. Stense was heading down the M6 from Scotland. If she let me know as she was passing Killington Lake Services, I could drop everything and bomb down the M65 for an illicit liaison midway between junctions 28 and 27. We only had an hour or so, but we had to seize the opportunity while we could.
It was just like that movie,
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off Brief Encounter, only relocated 40.4 miles south from Carnforth Station to Charnock Richard Services. Stense, obviously, was reprising Celia Johnson’s role, and I was Frankie Howerd.
Who says romance is dead?
BBC: Kodak files for bankruptcy protection
Eastman Kodak, the company that invented the hand-held camera, has filed for bankruptcy protection.
Sad day. How are the mighty fallen, and all that. I know Kodak is a major multinational company, but I have a very soft spot for it. Never forget that it was Kodak who brought photography to the masses: You press the button, we do the rest—the company’s motto said it all.
I have an awful lot of treasured memories saved for posterity, thanks to Kodak. I’m sure you do to. Their Kodachrome slide film, which was discontinued in 2009, was promoted as much for its archival quality as for its image quality. It wasn’t hype: when I look through my old slides, decades after I took them, the Kodachrome shots, which form the vast majority, are as good as the day I got them back through the post (yes, kids, we used to have to send our photos away to be ‘developed’); many of my slides taken on rival brands’ film are now faded, or have distorted colours. Kodak knew what they were doing, when it came to film.
But, apart from registering a few important patents, Kodak totally blew it when it came to digital: they didn’t see the rampaging elephant approaching over the hill until it was too late. I hate it when business people use Darwinian analogies, but, in this case, it seems unavoidable: Kodak failed to adapt to a changing ecosystem, and died.
For nostalgia’s sake, I hope the Kodak brand somehow lives on—albeit in greatly diminished form.