The song (apparently fiendishly difficult to perform) takes the form of a conversation between a husband, Barry and his wife Freda as she, following a broadcast of Gardeners’ Question Time, cautiously at first but with steadily increasing passion and verve attempts to initiate sex. Ignoring Barry’s pleas to abstain, (“I’m imploring: I’m boring, Let me read this catalogue on vinyl flooring,”) the song builds to an impressive crescendo with Freda ultimately suggesting he “hit me on the bottom with a Woman’s Weekly.” “The Ballad of Barry and Freda” often referred to simply as “Let’s Do It” is undoubtedly Victoria Wood’s most famous and popular song. It also provides the name of this thoroughly researched and well-written, authorised biography which arrives four-and-a half year’s after the much-loved comedian, actress, writer and musician’s premature death in 2016.
Victoria Wood’s career was not short on magic moments. Many came during her memorable ITV performance, An Audience With Victoria Wood in 1988, with which that song is often strongly associated. Many others come courtesy of her series, Victoria Wood As Seen On TV (which introduced the world to the deliberately amateurish delights of soap opera parody, Acorn Antiques) while later high points included Pat and Margaret, the sitcom Dinnerladies, Housewife, 49 and That Day We Sang.
Many of her finest moments, in fact, came from other performers such as Julie Walters, Celia Imrie and Patricia Routledge, the hardworking Wood almost invariably providing the scripts.
This comprehensive biography provides Wood with a well-deserved celebration of her hugely accomplished life while not glossing over her unhappy childhood, difficult rise to the top, her sometimes infuriating perfectionism, her marriage break-up as well as her heartbreaking final illness.
Let’s Do It: The Authorised Biography of Victoria Wood, by Jasper Rees. Published by: Trapeze.
One consequence of the sad death of filmmaker Alan Parker last July, is that at least now the status of Sir Ridley Scott, as the grand old man of British cinema is now pretty much unchallenged. For, make no mistake, while there are undeniably many other great British directors around – Sam Mendes, Christopher Nolan, Edgar Wright, Ken Loach, Mike Leigh, Mike Figgis and Danny Boyle amongst them – no one else has been producing quality films since the 1970s in quite the way Scott has.
There are similarities between Parker and Scott. Both came to filmmaking as a result of careers in advertising. Scott was successful enough to be a millionaire by the time he was thirty and received acclaim for his famous nostalgic ‘boy on a bike’ Hovis TV commercial. Both made there directorial debuts at almost the same time: Parker with the unique and ambitious ‘kids’ only’ gangster musical, Bugsy Malone in 1976, Scott with the period drama, The Duellists in 1977 starring Keith Carradine and Harvey Keitel.
There are plenty of differences too, however. Scott’s life and career was blighted by the deaths of his two brothers, Frank who died after suffering from skin cancer and Tony (himself a very successful director, of Top Gun amongst many others) who committed suicide following a cancer diagnosis in 2012.
Parker and Scott also directed very different kinds of films. Ridley Scott has never directed a musical or a film with a very young cast as Parker often did. Parker, in turn never did a science fiction film or an historical epic. Although some of Parker’s films (such as Mississippi Burning or Evita) are set in the past, none are set outside the 20th century as more than half of Scott’s are.
Finally, after Bugsy Malone, Parker enjoyed a twenty year heyday with numerous commercial and critical successes in the 70s, 80s and 90s including Midnight Express, Fame and The Commitments but directed nothing good after that. Scott, in contrast, really only made two big successes in the 20th century: Alien and Thelma and Louise. All of his other 1980s and 1990s films were essentially flops. But despite being five years older than Parker and into his early sixties by the year 2000, the 21st century has given Ridley Scott a new lease of life. The last twenty years have seen him produce many of his biggest successes including the Oscar-winning triumph, Gladiator, Hannibal, Black Hawk Down and The Martian.
As this sumptuous and beautifully illustrated coffee-table book from film expert, Ian Nathan reminds us, he has directed at least three of the best science fiction films of all time, as well as many other great ones. The sheer power and horror of Alien (1979) has never been equalled. Both this and Blade Runner (1982) have elevated the science fiction quality level forever, the second of these not really sufficiently appreciated until the 1990s. Some of his ‘minor ‘films such as White Squall (1996) and Matchstick Men (2003) are undeniably worth revisiting and even where the results have occasionally fallen short of expectations (see, perhaps, 1492: Conquest of Paradise or A Good Year), Scott certainly be faulted for a body of work which is always interesting, ambitious and which has occasionally resulted in some of the greatest films ever made.
To quote the title of one of his less successful films: he remains a Legend.
As the American electorate prepare to decide the fate of their 45th president, here is an excellent opportunity to take a look at the life of the 35th holder of that office, John Fitzgerald Kennedy. This book from acclaimed US historian, Fredrik Logevall, in fact, concentrates solely on the first forty years of Kennedy’s life, ending with his bid for the 1956 Democratic vice presidential nomination. The fact that this bid failed was perhaps no bad thing as the main candidate, Adlai Stevenson was destined to go down to a second heavy defeat to the popular Republican President Eisenhower, a development which might have harmed JFK had he been Stephenson’s official designated running mate. Kennedy’s bid, in fact, left him very well placed to run for the presidency himself in 1960. It also represented a show of independence from the influence of his all-powerful father, the ageing former Ambassador Joe Kennedy, who had privately disagreed with his son’s attempt to become Stevenson’s Number Two.
Kennedy’s 1960 campaign, his eventful presidency and his assassination will all be dealt with in a future second volume.
The story of the young JFK is to some extent, the story of the Kennedy family itself and it is always a fascinating one, told brilliantly here with plenty of fresh new insights even if you think you’ve heard it all before. The ruthlessly ambitious but flawed father. The loving if occasionally mis-guided mother. The favourite son: Jack’s older brother Joe, who Jack was already starting to outshine even before his tragic wartime death. The tragic fates of his sisters Rosie and ‘Kick’. Bobby’s brilliant and youthful political strategising.
But Jack’s tale alone it itself a fascinating one. His easy elegance and charm. His endless battles with serious illness. His epic wartime heroism.
Some reviewers have seen similarities between Kennedy and the current president, Donald Trump and it’s true, there is some common ground. Both were born to racially prejudiced millionaire fathers of immigrant stock: Joseph Kennedy was the grandson of 19th century Irish immigrants, Donald Trump’s father Fred had German parents. Both JFK and Trump also shared an unfortunate penchant for womanising. In Trump’s case, this has resulted in a number of sexual assault accusations, a charge never levelled at JFK.
And there the similarities end. In his demagoguery and total disregard for the truth, Trump, in fact far more closely resembles the disreputable Senator Joseph McCarthy who oversaw the witch-hunts of the early 1950s, than he does Kennedy. The Kennedys’ unfortunate closeness to McCarthy is in fact, a significant point against them. Incidentally, there is a lesson here: McCarthy’s reign of terror ultimately came to an end largely due to his foolhardy decision to target the US Army in his self-serving campaigns. Trump’s own obvious contempt for the armed forces reflected in his odious comments undermining the heroism of the late Senator John McCain and about those killed in the world wars, have seriously undermined his re-election campaign.
Kennedy, in contrast, was a genuine hero of the Second World War. He maintained a cool head during the 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis. It is terrifying to imagine how someone of Trump’s volatile temperament would have fared under similar circumstances.
Finally, Kennedy frequently demonstrated a level of wit, intelligence and sophistication almost without parallel in any US president. Trump, in contrast, seems never to have uttered an eloquent sentence in his life. His most memorable slogan has not been “Ask not what your country can do for you” but his reality TV catchphrase, “You’re fired.” The “make America great again” mantra, popularised by the current president in fact long predates Trump. He is narcissistic and appears to have no real sense of humour at all. His idea of wit is to be insulting: crudely mocking a disabled man or suggesting a female interviewer’s perfectly intelligent and level-headed but challenging line of questioning must be the attributable to the fluctuations of her menstrual cycle.
In short, JFK was an infinitely better leader than Trump could ever have been. And, ultimately, a much better person. As the late Lloyd Bentsen once almost said of George HW Bush’s politically maladroit running mate, Dan Quayle in 1988: he’s no Jack Kennedy. No one is.
Once upon a time, seemingly about in about 1935, but actually only about nine months ago, there was a General Election. It seemed very important at the time, but most of us have now probably forgotten all about it.
The Conservatives, under their new leader, Boris Johnson did surprisingly well in the snap 12 December election. Having never once managed to win a substantial majority in any of the seven previous General Elections held during the previous thirty years, they won a majority of eighty, easily enough to keep them in office until 2024. Jeremy Corbyn’s Labour Party, in contrast, did very badly.
A notable feature of the results was that the Tories made substantial inroads into the so-called impenetrable ”Red Wall’ of sixty or so traditionally Labour old coal, steel and manufacturing seats stretching from the Midlands, across to the north of England and up into Wales.