Everyday Sal

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Starting Again

A story for Scottish Book Trust’s Rebel writing campaign. Read more responses here. 

My shoe broke on the way to the station which I tried not to take as a sign. Limping into a new life does dampen the intended grace somewhat. The right lace now trailed along demonstrating all too plainly how I couldn't hold my life together. I half expected a mocking over the tannoy. Thankfully, none came.

My travel companion was to be a York University student; tall, dark, unfazed by revision. As I sidled slightly flushed into my seat we exchanged small smiles and small words, while I tried to work out where best to store a poster tube for the next four hours. I concentrated on the wire of his headphones as the train pulled away and, true to form, I had a cry on public transport. ™ London. I've wondered since if his soundtrack was complimentary to the scene.

A forward facing window seat with a plug, naturally. A lifetime of British holidays has taught me that much. Facing forwards no doubt about it and yet stretching back. As a discontent child squirms in a pushchair my insides follow suit. As concrete diminishes and tree trunks multiply I divide myself between two places. It feels physical. Intestines unravel, one end still attached, the other in the hands of my dearest friends back on the platform, and I'm wondering at what point will I feel the tension? How much elastin is in this fleshy rope - will it stop the train or tear right out after ten, twenty, fifty miles? Am I invincible or dispensable?  

"A green tea please."

"That'll be £2, darlin'."

Contained change. A hot and emotional whirlwind with a lid on it. My heart beats along with my distraction playlist, an untitled medley to new beginnings. I raise my tea to hope, or is it to foolishness? Will I open up the forum to the carriage? I stay silent.

Whose idea was this because it doesn't feel like mine? It was a thousand hated breaths of a city that pushed me out. Invisible, polluted hands and mouths snidely daring change. Was I mistaken to tune into them? Because I really am alone now. No friends in a new country, unemployed, short hair, short fuse. Of course I've noticed the voices faulter, the split second eye refocus as they try to craft comment on what no one wants to label as outright ridiculous. Adventures are for fiction, for gap year uncertainty to be a bit of a joke of coming of age. They're for late night 'if I could do it all again' conversations brought on by wine or sunsets or New Year. Yet when I really listen I can hear my inner voice saying 'yes', I can feel the sparks of fire inside that fuel the assurance of this, on paper, outright mad desire: to start again.

I observe every blur of a sheep and whizz of a bird. If I'm attentive and lucky I might see a fox. Everything is stripped back to a worldly version of I Spy. I can only merely label 'sheep', 'house', 'river' because as I get further away from old I've no forged connection to be able to describe anything more fully. I feel very young. This is just the beginning of everything being new and it's already so hard. I'm dipping my toes into strength I haven't imagined.

From Kings Cross to 'what if?'. I can sense the paths of my life frantically rerooting themselves in this new direction. Those things that I have anticipated up ahead, that I've taken the liberty of running on and tending to, are overturned in the storm. They fly by with the Wicked Witch of the East.

Well wishes flash up on my phone from all sorts of people I didn't even know cared. Oddly though, I feel more connected to the people on this train, to Mr York University now highlighting passages of an indistinguishable textbook (right-handed), than to so many I am meant to love. Somehow emotions have gotten out of joint. Ashamed, I take the opportunity to bury myself in a novel. A thin, battered volume selected specifically for comfort. Part of my adventurers kit. What do you pack when you want to erase so much of the past?

Adrenaline diminishes over the hours and sensation returns. The ground is below, the air unpleasantly stale. We go through a tunnel and emerge into reality. I stop designing the experience and check my belongings. Two suitcases, a scarf, a tiny flame in the belly, a belief in change. I could swear the display screen wishes me well as I ease into the aisle. I hold hands with no one as I step onto the platform.

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Self portrait, Apr 2018

So much ordinary in this portrait, but for me so much extraordinary. I took this photo in a moment of strength. A messy, slightly uncared for bedroom is the backdrop for so much internal change and growth. Finding a practice that grounds me in the everyday has meant that I can look and reflect on my true self, and for the first time I am motivated not by goals but by my own journey. 

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5 years of Self Image. Mid 20s. Less of a show, more of an honest chat. It's nice to document change; to see what we hold on tight to and what we let go.

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Little Miss Marker (1980) The Julie Andrews Project: Film 14/34

The first 10 minutes of this film offered up a dead dog and an abandoned child. A pairing somewhat dampening the cheeriness of the jazzy theme song. I felt uneasy for much of the first half of this film, a natural reaction to watching, in 2017, the plot of a small abandoned girl being looked after by a bunch of male gamblers, living in a one bed studio with a bookie old enough to be her grandfather. It was the brashness, the long scenes at home in the flat that made me wide-eyed and less inclined to see this as an entertaining comedy-drama. 

I felt much better when Julie arrived on the scene 30 mins in, a relief because I’d forgotten all about her in these opening stresses. She played the feminine, woman gone slightly astray but brought back down to earth and rightfulness via motherhood role. No prizes for the writing of female characters here. 

What follows is a sort of Annie like story, with icy hearts melting and love conquering all including the law. The whole thing for me was fairly muted: the gangsters underwhelming, the love story none too believable and the ending predictable. Sara Stimson as ‘The Kid’ was really the only stand out. I mean so cute(!) and essentially stealing any scene. Top points to wardrobe for her costumes. They even brought out these little dolls of her: 

This 1980 film was a remake of a previous version from 1934. I have no idea what inspired this with such a vanilla story. My only hope is that it never resurfaces.

Next up: S.O.B (1981)

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10 (1979) The Julie Andrews Project: Film 13/34

I couldn’t do it. Based on the trailer I just couldn’t. Judge for yourselves: 

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July 2017. A video self portrait. Much like when I’ve posted previous portraits the right moment just materialised from nowhere. In this moment I felt strong amid all the uncertainly that life throws at us. I was compelled to capture this sudden awareness of time, place and self. 

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The Tamarind Seed (1974) The Julie Andrews Project: Film 12/34

Spies, code names and falling in love...are we back in Darling Lili? A spy thriller of the same ilk, Julie role reverses in this film to play the innocent caught up in a world of angsty middle aged men and bombs in beer bottles. 

Unlucky in love Judith Farrow (Julie Andrews) is affronted to meet yet another charmer Feodor Sverdlov (Omar Sherif) during a Barbados holiday, designed to have quite the opposite effect. Her job as an assistant at the home office and his as a Russian military attaché causes immediate alarm bells for those with their ears to the ground, who suspect immediate foul play. A shadow of doubt is cast as to whether Sverdlov is attempting to convert Farrow as a Soviet spy and this is of course ceased with relish by every ego-driven man mixed up in the business. What follows is much back and forth about how to get one up on the other side. 

I felt this film dealt much better with the layers of suspicion that I commented on in Darling Lili. The legitimacy of the love affair was fairly plain, so it was good to have some grounding as a viewer here and meant you could relax a bit into the story. Having said this there was still plenty of drama and suspense, particularly at the climax of action which saw the couple return to Barbados where it all began, in an attempt to defect Sverdlov from the game. This part of the film really was tense with unexpected twists and certainly evoked a few tears! 

Julie was graceful as ever in this film. I’m getting used to her in these more sensual roles, which I think she plays with great feminine sass. 

Next up: 10 (1979). Another Blake Edwards. Trying not to judge it too much by the trailer which looked horrendous. 

No The Tamarind Seed trailer available :( Here’s a clip:

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Darling Lili (1970) The Julie Andrews Project: Film 11/34

It took 30 mins from the end of this film for the complexities of the plot to finally click. My bedtime routine was plagued by breaking down character motivations scene by scene in my head. Oddly though, and certainly contrary to its box office failings, I really enjoyed it! 

Set in WW1, the story follows beloved British music hall performer and German spy Lili Smith (Julie Andrews). I love the format of spy stories, the layers of plot building and thinning at random so that as a viewer you’re constantly on your guard. However I think the script in this film was very risky in that it didn’t let the audience in on any secrets beyond an early reveal of Lili as agent on ‘Project Sparrow’. We had no one to trust; we were left guessing every relationship, motivation and decision right until the end, which certainly by 3/4 of the way through began to get frustrating.

Touring as a solo performer, Lili is assigned American pilot Major William Larrabee (Rock Hudson) to seduce into revealing Allied air defence strategies. 

There are many lengthy aircraft sequences during this film, awkwardly chopping up the dialogue and which I found rather trying after a while. Thinking back to previously reviewed The Americanization of Emily (1964) I remember thinking the heavy combination of wartime action and romance distinctly odd, and it seems the same here. 

Things start to get blurry when Lili accidentally ends up falling in love with her subject, and jealousy of other women clouds her judgment and deductions. There’s a considerable amount of confusion with so called operation ‘Crepe Suzette’- a female stripper who we thought was a key defence plan for a time. Lili’s personal emotional crisis gets mixed up with her already complex undercover work, and scene by scene we get different doses of each. A British music hall strip scene, demonstrating Lili’s jealously of Suzette, it seems was not well received by film audiences at the time- but I thought was fun! 

Her disguise falling rapidly away, an exciting chase sequence sees Lili fleeing capture and murder. With all cards on the table, the film ends with Lili choosing between her German and British loyalties and Major Will between love and patriotic valour. 

Playing to Julie’s strengths, musical sequences were upped in this film, which perhaps is why I enjoyed it so much. 

Next up: The Tamarind Seed (1974)

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Star! (1968) The Julie Andrews Project: Film 10/34

Confession: I’m behind on these reviews and watched this film so long ago that I’d forgotten I’d even seen it. It wasn’t until The Physician (see below) came on Elaine Paige’s Radio 2 show the other day that I remembered it- in all its bizarre glory. How could I forget such visuals?

Star! is a biographical musical telling the on and off stage story of actress Gertrude Lawrence. Adopting the premise of an elder Lawrence reviewing the production of a documentary on her life, the film flits between real time and scenes and performances during her career. I really enjoyed all of these musical sequences, played out in a fun, cabaret style. 

Lawrence was very glamorous and the whirlwind of fashion and costume throughout was a highlight. This alien world of parties and furs is essentially what I dream of when I think of the 1930s, so it was a treat to lose myself within this depiction for a while. Balancing this was a story that did not shy from personal truths, a reminder that glamour is merely a single quality of a life and character. 

I really enjoyed Daniel Massey’s performance as a young Noel Coward. Massey was Coward’s real life godson, which adds a warmth to the production. His portrayal made me want to find out a lot more about the man himself. 

Next up: Darling Lili (1970)

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Thoroughly Modern Millie (1967) The Julie Andrews Project: Film 9/34

Surely one of the best opening scenes of any musical, as a viewer I’m clamouring to be Millie’s best pal within the first few minutes. Confidence, spontaneity and awkward charm make her instantly loveable in a scene that introduces the bustling, fashion-filled 1920s. The mad editing (continuing throughout the film- a particular favourite being the Powerpoint style scene changes) is in full flow with the introduction of captions sharing Millie’s amusing inner thoughts. Within the first five minutes we’ve met our daring heroine, our austere looking villain, Mrs Meers, and are glimpsing newspapers on street stands giving us clues as to the upcoming plot. 

Noted and appreciated is the distinct amount of girl power going on throughout this film. A decisive, spritely and determined Millie (Julie Andrews) takes Miss Dorothy (Mary Tyler Moore), brimming with feminine charm, under her wing. Millie knows the rights and needs of a modern woman and is driven by her admirable, often amusing, level of self-assurance. Spiky villain Mrs Meers (Beatrice Lillie) is clever and calculating, kicking all men around her into shape. And later Muzzy (Carol Channing), glamour and generosity pouring from her every encounter, becomes a loyal friend and guide to these hot-headed young’ns. 

This film is pure joy. I love Millie as a character because her mishaps are just so relatable. She’s a friend to anyone trying to get a handle on life’s absurd systems- quite Miranda like, to use a contemporary reference. The characters in this film are ridiculously over the top, but it’s what makes it so energetic- hang it, it’s what makes it a musical. I know many musical fans (the serious kind) that slate this film for being too silly, but for me it’s the ultimate comfort. Nothing is done by halves and it’s this commitment to style that for me makes it a success. 

The only part of this film I don’t like is the very end. Millie marries her true love and decides to sacrifice it all, expressing a desire to become a ‘real woman’, a “dandy little bundle for a fella to cuddle”. WHY, why does she have to give up her gutsy feminism at the last moment?? The excellent graphics on the end credits are bittersweet. 

“Starting tomorrow I’m going to be unspeakably fatal.” -Millie

Next up: Star! (1968)

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Hawaii (1966) The Julie Andrews Project: Film 8/34

Heavens above, I despised this film. Not one likeable character within the mix; perhaps the shark that tries to eat our protagonist.

I found the religious content of the film heavy and infuriating. Lead character Reverend Abner finds any act familiar to you or I incomprehensibly sinful. His upbringing has been strict and he seems to live for the misery of temptation. We follow his story as he takes a wife (Jerusha, played by Julie) and sets sail among a group of missionaries to preach to Hawaii that they’re living life incorrectly. What follows is a cultural clash involving fire, death and lots of shouting at dusk.

It’s 1820 and women are treated like shit. Jerusha sadly seems to know it and adopts a misty-eyed indifference to get her through belonging to father then husband. She eventually perishes due to Abner’s foolish disregard. 

A tunnel vision for heaven leaves Abner to disrespect and upheave almost everyone. He’s certainly not popular among the natives and as a viewer I was practically chanting for his removal to pull the plug on the unending chaos. 

Hawaii is adapted from James Michener’s novel of the same name. This respected read, published 1959, brings Hawaii’s history to life and perhaps would give me some greater context if I gave it a go. (I’ll admit I’m a culprit for reacting to tale rather than historical context.) I’m struggling to find a reason why these characters needed to be lifted into the bustle of American cinema. However in both writing and film Hawaii’s heaviness was popular at the time (as this lukewarm NY Times 1966 review implies). Therefore I can only conclude that its value has passed me by. We’ll say no more about it. 

Next up: Thoroughly Modern Millie (1967) 

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Self Image 2017

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Torn Curtain (1966) The Julie Andrews Project: Film 7/34

Suspenseful, yet in a laboured way, I’m not sure this film has aged well. Set in the Cold War, Torn Curtain follows the story of scientific super-couple Michael and Sarah, as the former ventures into a double-crossing quest to steal nuclear secrets from behind the Iron Curtain. Halved between the pair’s perspectives, we follow Sarah’s shock discovery and unravelling emotional unease about the plan, while Michael gets into some tight spots with uncertainty for who’s foreign friend or foe. As our duo touch down in Berlin, it becomes apparent we’re dealing with a tweed jacket vs leather coat sort of thing. 

In researching the film I was to unveil that the script was at the time considered weak. Post-watch this made a lot of sense as to my confusion about the hit and heavy on the miss humour, plus some rather elongated scenes (as a viewer your timeframe of red alert, chase scene adrenaline only lasts so long...) The suspense of a Hitchcock is there, in fact by the bucket load in a spiky fight, murder and flight scene that is certainly the most memorable and celebrated of the film. I enjoyed the patchwork Hitchcock editing, but the patchwork script paved the way for a sluggish and muddling flow. 

The DVD extras taught me a lot about this film, the most alarming feature being that Hitchcock did not rate Julie, that he was talked into hiring her as a guaranteed crowd pleaser. This is odd because her role is not huge or indeed very memorable in terms of action or character trait, she’s very much in support which opens up the imbalance of the film even more. I also picked up some interesting points about the use of music; its power when both present and absent. Music for the previously mentioned murder scene was cut in production, which when you observe the comparison adds amazing strength to the film. 

You’ve got good guys and bad guys, misleading cameos and cheesy, rounded romance. As a spy thriller it was flat, with quirks tending to weaken rather than impact it. I say let’s move on!

Next up: Hawaii (1966)

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A wee sketch written, directed and filmed by my friend Ian Stark, where I got to live my dream of frolicking in the hills. (Inability to frolic in a straight line unintentional.)

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The Sound of Music (1965) The Julie Andrews Project: Film 6/34

I may have only seen a small percentage of Julie’s thirty-four films, but I’ve certainly seen this one thirty-four+ times. I’m confident that many less fanatical persons would agree that it just does not get old. Part of the joy of this film is its base in real life; we’ve all Googled the reality, marvelled over pictures of the original Von Trapp family vs the cast, or the Oprah reunion. Perhaps I’m not alone in having read The Sound of Music Story for additional nuggets. Perhaps. Nonetheless it’s a classic for so many, plus a commitment with that three hour running time (they fool us with the fake wedding ‘ending’ every time). 

Christmas 2015 saw an exciting live TV remake of this film, much like the earlier reviewed Cinderella (1957). It was fun to have a load of HD cameras, jazzy angles and new sets to drink in and I distinctly remember branding it an ‘unexpected Christmas treasure’ (quite heavily on the perfect casting of Alexander Armstrong as Uncle Max). However of course it could never live up to the original, but I suppose the live element cleaved the way for a new twist rather than a direct challenge. I feel pretty bad in hindsight for the amount of scorn I directed at Kara Tointon’s Maria. 

On this most recent watch I revelled in the iconic golden titles, yelled out my ‘favourite things’ (”MARMITE, RUSSIAN SPACE AGE GRAPHICS”) and fully appreciated the Baroness’s eyebrows for the first time. There are so many tiny moments that I eagerly await- the pronunciation of “pink lemonade”, alongside the original sitting-on-a-pinecone laugh. There are some great witty bits of script and beautifully, I think, characters for people of all ages to relate to. Part of the power of this film is its ability to go from carefree summer days to stripped back, desperate fear- and as it does this it places all the embellished grand balls and shy telegrams into perspective. I love this film because it makes me get involved. It captures so many interactions so perfectly: the unknowns of leaving home, meeting people for the first time and the quiet moments alone after doing so, the adrenaline of attraction and so much more. I clap, I cry. I’m proud of Maria when she stands up for the children and I’m experiencing that odd sort of ~inspirational breathiness re sunny outings, vocal harmonies and the possibility of following my own [nondescript] dream. 

16, defo not on the brink

The Sound of Music captures Julie jetting to success as filmmakers clamoured to cast her. Her composure as an actress shines bright. At the time of release The Sound of Music was already popular in the theatre and in film became a huge commercial success. The fact that fifty years later we’re still reviving this story in both of these formats, searching to cast Maria’s on Saturday night TV and booking tours of Salzburg, are telling to this film’s timelessness and charm.

Trailers including ‘Here is the perfect motion picture that touches every note in the full scale of human emotions’ are the best.

Next up: Torn Curtain (1966)

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Me and My Fruit Bowl: Selfies Through Time

I recently updated my Facebook profile with a reasonably un-glam selfie and it got me thinking. What would I find if I braved the ‘Pictures’ folder of an old laptop, or heaven forbid the Bebo era Desktop PC, for similar shots? I prepared myself for coloured eyeliner.

Before the word ‘selfies’ what did we call them? ‘Pics of me taken with an Argos digital camera’? I actually think mine was from that weird Homelife section of Superdrug. Most of the folders I found were entitled a rather conventional ‘me’, or ‘moi’ for the finer shots. And I was happy with my findings. There’s something perfect about looking back at a terrible photograph of yourself and knowing that at the time you thought you were the cat’s pajamas. This was the top shot; the portrait; the ultimate expression of self-assurance; put me on a coin; and it turns out you looked ridiculous. How wonderful! 

A happy factor of my observations has been paying attention to the varying backgrounds I deemed suitable to compliment my features. A fruit bowl, a bin, a fashionable brand of deodorant popping out from behind the left ear. I gave no shit because it was meant to be All Eyes On Me.

I’m talking here about what I’m going to call the Pure Selfie. Not one that is influenced by documenting that you attended this or that and looked as you do, but instead that documents your internal thoughts; how you see yourself or hope to be perceived. An iPhone’s-eye view in a quiet moment. I look at these gems and remember what was going on, when I took them and who I was trying to impress with my fake glasses from Claire’s. It’s a harmless, arguably somewhat therapeutic vanity and long may it continue in my opinion. I’m looking forward to the day where I look back at my current, mightily painted on eyebrows and curse the year 2015. But it’ll be worth it because right now I depend on the eyebrows to get me through the day, and I take the pictures to share that secret with other humans and with my own denial.