Must be seductive in that case to be welcomed into another environment, where you’re treated not as a mediocre intellect but appraised purely on your strength of feeling.
I have an aversion to hype, being a naturally impressionable sort who has been stung too many times, but the BFI’s noisy recent championing of the largely forgotten British B movie, Strongroom (1962), is totally justified. Banger.
FRANCE: we're fancy
WORLD: ok
FRANCE: a fried ham sandwich is our national lunch
WORLD:
FRANCE: a fried ham sandwich with an egg is its wife
It’s sad really. Mostly horrible but also a bit sad.
Goodwin has the Musk thing where you’re desperate to be welcomed into a clique, and when it won’t let you join, you come to loathe it with an alarming intensity.
On BFI Player at the moment, and screens on @talkingpicturestv.bsky.social now and then.
And imbue it with all these negative characteristics, some probably genuine but most exaggerated or imagined.
Goodwin’s origin story is not whatever he claims it to be, but that anecdote he once shared about not being invited to dinner with the other speakers after a debate.
