London, GB | Formerly of New York, Buenos Aires, Fife, and the Western Cape. | Saoránach d’Éirinn.

2016 January

Monday 4 January 2016

A curious thing about London is that, even though it’s a world-class global city with all the tiresomeness that entails, it often manages to feel small and somewhat cozy. This is only enhanced by numerous chance encounters when one runs into friends on the street without any forethought.

Late on a Saturday in November I had just made a rather wet and windy crossing of the Solent: my hovercraft had been cancelled and I had to take a much later catamaran instead. I arrived in London, late, soggy, and laden with a sack of apples gifted to me by the nuns of St Cecilia’s Abbey from their orchard there on the Isle of Wight. Not feeling quite up to the evening’s plan of a drink in Marylebone and a night on the tiles all the way out east in Dalston, I demurred and opted for other plans.

Something calm and quiet was called for — a film at the Curzon on the King’s Road. Having purchased a ticket to see Spielberg’s latest (‘Bridge of Spies’) who should waltz up along the pavement but James, who I’d just been speaking to at 1:30 that morning, and Frankie, who I hadn’t seen in far too long. They were immediately convinced to join in and thus we made up a troika at the Curzon, which is going to be torn down and shifted next door to the old Gaumont under the Cadogan Estate’s latest plans.

Franks and I remained outside as James went in to buy tickets and then who should pop out of the cinema but the great Charles Dance himself. Even more satisfyingly — for Francisca and I are ideological smokers — he immediately pulled out a cigarette and lit up. It’s good to see the old ways die hard.

Dance put in a superb performance in the BBC’s dramatisation of Agatha Christie’s ‘And Then There Were None’ broadcast over the Christmas break. The dark and chilling adaptation returned to the book’s original grim storyline rather than the happy ending Christie invented for the 1943 stage version.

But last night’s premiere of ‘Deutschland 83’ steals the biscuit in telly-box news. The drama follows a 24-year-old Volksarmee officer sent to the West to spy for the GDR as aide-de-camp to the Bundeswehr general charged with handling the plan to site American Pershing-II missiles in West Germany.

‘Deutschland 83’ had aired on RTÉ 2 late last year so whisperings had crossed the Irish Sea warning me to keep an eye out for it. I love a good spy thriller and was disappointed that the Beeb decided against a second season for last year’s ‘The Game’, which followed 1970s MI-5 agents foiling a Cold War plot against Her Majesty’s Government. Channel 4 is picking up the slack, not just with D’83 but also the French political drama Les Hommes de l’ombre (being broadcast here as ‘Spin’) debuting Friday 8 January.

Television used to be the most boring thing in the universe. Good to see some things can actually get better.

January 4, 2016 8:00 pm | Link | No Comments »

Blogging is dead. Long live blogging!

Your daily dose of Cusack

It is a well-known fact that blogging is dead. I remember the old days! Armavirumque, the Jacksons, and the Emperor Seth of Azania! That was an astonishing ten years ago, and very few of you will remember it (except Steve). Now it’s all Twitter and Instagram and — gulp! — ‘social media’.

Never mind. As a bit of a New Year’s Resolution, I’ve decided to personally, single-handedly, and by our own will and instrument revive the blog qua blog.

Pieces of a bit more substance will continue to appear on andrewcusack.com — for that must never die — but I intend to share some ephemera here, for your own personal edification.

January 1, 2016 10:00 pm | Link | 2 Comments »

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