The Good Life

 Recently I have been watching some old British sitcoms, courtesy of the BBC's iPlayer. One which stood out, and which I felt warranted a re-appraisal, was 'The Good Life' (written by John Esmonde and Bob Larbey), which was made and originally broadcast in the mid-to-late 1970s. Showing my age, I confess to having watched some of the episodes when they were first broadcast, although a lot of the subject matter rather went over my head back then.

For those who do not know, the show is set in the affluent suburb of Surbiton in southern England,  and focuses on two middle-class couples, the Goods (Tom and Barbara) and the Leadbetters (Jerry and Margo) who reside in adjacent dwellings. At the outset of the series, Tom Good and Jerry Leadbetter work for the same company. However, Tom is undergoing a crisis of identity and dissatisfaction with life and career. 

Tom and Barbara, who appear more liberal and free-wheeling than Jerry and Margo, decide on a radical course, proposing to drop out of the rat-race, and enter into a lifestyle of self-sufficiency. They grow and produce their own food, making their own clothes, and eschewing many of the luxuries and conveniences to which they had become accustomed. Tom resigns from his job. Despite their differing and diverging attitudes, the Goods and the Leadbetters remain close friends.

The basic "situation" of 'The Good Life' is a large part of what makes this a valuable sitcom. The writing and the snappy, sophisticated dialogue, are a cut above many of the contemporary mainstream shows, mixing the profound and the comic to sound effect. The material is intelligent and gently thought-provoking, if not as surreal as 'The Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin', from the same era, which has some overlap with 'The Good Life'.

The writing, therefore, is subtle, especially in its examination of the relationship between the Goods and the Leadbetters, but I think that this comedy is also raised to different level by the quality of the acting, more specifically the performances of the four main players - Richard Briers (Tom), Felicity Kendal(Barbara), Penelope Keith (Margo) and Paul Eddington (Jerry), all of whom went on to have successful careers off the back of 'The Good Life'.

The "banter" between Tom and Barbara is a delight, and Briers and Kendal clearly had great chemistry. One can see how the Goods would have become a couple in the first place, bonded in part by a quirky sense of humour and philosophy of life. The exchanges between the two characters are therefore quite believable, as well as engaging.

Much of the "tension" in the programme arises from the interaction between Margo and the Goods. Margo's social attitudes, characterised by snobbishness and haughtiness, put her at odds with Tom and Barbara's more laid-back and irreverent world-view, although she appears to value their friendship, and retains a soft spot for Barbara. Margo's concern for the impact on Barbara of the self-sufficiency drive illustrates the subtlety of the writing; whilst Margo appears to slightly misinterpret Barbara's position, her misgivings are not wholly misplaced, given Tom's occasional flights of fancy. 

In the role of Margo, Penelope Keith's presence and flair for comedy in its broadest sense are important factors. Whilst the character of Margo can be seen as an "antagonist" to some degree, and her attitudes to self-sufficiency sometimes come off as condescending and supercilious, self-interested on occasion, there are shades of grey in there, and we are not asked to unreservedly endorse the self-sufficiency project. Margo's husband Jerry is rather caught in the middle of all this, and his character is nicely ambiguous, with his views on the Goods' endeavours often complicated by his disagreements with his wife.

In amongst the comedy, there is ample realism and pathos. Tom and Barbara's constant struggles - financial, moral and emotional -  are very well documented, and the scripts do not pretend that this self-sufficiency enterprise is all plain sailing or without flaw or contradiction.

The timing of 'The Good Life' is intriguing. Emerging in the mid-1970s, it followed on from the 1960s counter-culture and the hippie movement, and pre-dated the full flowering of the ecological movement. I am sure that if a similar show was made today, Tom and Barbara would be vegetarians or vegans. It is also poignant to reflect that such a departure as initiated by the Goods, at least in an urban area, would not be feasible nowadays, because of the increasing regulation and conformism of people and society.

One optimistic aspect of 'The Good Life' is that it depicts people with differing values or attitudes remaining friendly, co-operating and interacting relatively organically and genuinely. Again, one wonders whether a modern-day equivalent of the show would fall victim to the temptation to place the two couples fundamentally at odds. The cultural landscape of the 1970s perhaps permitted more finesse and pragmatism.

My sense is that the efficacy or otherwise of Tom and Barbara's "experiment" is left unresolved. We applaud their courage, vision and resourcefulness, but worry about their naivete and idealism. Perhaps the writers were simply pointing out that there is no simple answer or solution to these questions, and of course it is debatable whether the Goods were really trying to change the world at all - their actions were a personal matter,influenced by their own circumstances, and in one episode in particular Tom is keen to play down any suggestion that he is some sort of guru or social philosopher. 

In its astute balancing of the salient topics, 'The Good Life' was a brave and enjoyable attempt to put these ideas and issues out there, without being too portentous.

Yesterday (2019 film)

 It recently occurred to me that, even as a very keen and longstanding fan of The Beatles, I had still not seen the 2019 "Beatles-themed" film 'Yesterday', directed by Danny Boyle. Anyway, I finally put this to rights, and thought I would offer a few thoughts on the movie.

The basic premise of the story is that Jack Malik, a struggling singer-songwriter, is involved in a traffic accident, following which he transfers to some alternate reality, an alternate reality where the music of The Beatles has never been heard. He then, in effect, passes off The Beatles' songs as his own compositions, and becomes a global sensation.

However unlikely and "frothy" the film is in its implementation, it does have its positives. The Jack Malik character is relatable and likeable, and these elements are well brought out by Himesh Patel's performance. Some of the other characters, especially Jack's friends, are likeable too.

This possesses many of the characteristics of the romantic-comedy genre, but with added surrealism and strangeness. As with many other modern movies, it contains too much CGI and "artificiality" for my own tastes, although I appreciate that not everyone is overly bothered about these things. When visuals start to become less organic, my interest wavers.

One of the (minor) issues I had with 'Yesterday' was the essence of the storyline. As a lover of the music of the Fab Four, I found it troublesome and elusive to grasp the idea, as The Beatles are so ubiquitous and pervasive in our culture and in my own psyche. That said, it is quite cute and touching to see the music portrayed as being heard for the first time. 

The decision to base Jack in deepest Suffolk was a sound one, and makes this a bit different from other similar British films, which tend to be rather London-centric. Ed Sheeran's role wasn't quite as irritating and cliched as I might have suspected.

It is a difficult film to sum up; it is neither particularly hard-edged or excessively corny. "Quirky" is possibly a good term to use. Perhaps I should just learn to accept relatively undemanding culture on its own terms, rather than insisting that it should always say something profound or enlightening.....

Bleak House - Charles Dickens

 I have, in the not too distant past, discovered a new-found enthusiasm for the novels of Charles Dickens, partly because the subject matter of his works dovetails significantly with some of my own latter-day philosophical preoccupations.

The next instalment in my odyssey was 'Bleak House'. I selected this particular work on the strength of write-ups and reviews, but I was still a little unsure what to expect. 

One notable aspect of the novel, and one which some people might find disconcerting, is the dual first-person/third-person narrative format. Personally, I did not find this to be any great inconvenience, and in some ways it enlivened the reading experience, because of the novelty and variety which it affords.

The centrepiece of the story, around which orbit the assorted characters and sub-plots, is a long-running, seemingly interminable legal case in the Court of Chancery. The case is tortuous and intricate to put it mildly, and a large portion of Dickens' purpose is to illuminate and impugn the perceived iniquities and flaws in the judicial system of the time.

The first-person narrator is Esther. She is, by and large, a sympathetic character, even if modern audiences would possibly wish her to be less "passive".  Esther's telling of her story is fluent and relatable, in contrast to the more flowery or obscure nature of parts of the third-person narrative. The thought has occurred to me whether Esther was intended as some kind of "idealized" person, to set against the murkier and more equivocal motives and approaches of other characters in the novel. Her honesty, diligence and selflessness seem genuine and unaffected, though seemingly heavily conditioned by her own upbringing and early experiences.

I find some of the players in the drama rather difficult to stomach, notably Boythorn, even if he appears to have had some redeeming qualities. Boythorn and Skimpole throw into sharper relief the roundedness of such figures as John Jarndyce and Esther. 

As with much Dickensian literature, there is lots of rumination on the social conditions and attitudes of those times. This takes the form of both satire and general observation. The passages which are set in the "brickworks" districts are quite powerful and emotive. It is difficult not to have one's feelings animated by the portrayal of such injustices and cruelties.

Something which I took from the novel is a notion that perhaps the social classes were not quite as estranged from each other as if often made out. Some of the characters seem to move between interactions with different classes easily and without altering their behaviour noticeably. Maybe Dickens was hinting that it was possible for the classes to mix more freely, but that the intransigent mind-set of certain people was the main obstacle.

A curious sub-text in 'Bleak House' is that of misguided or haughty philanthropy. The case of Mrs Jellyby is a fascinating and rather disturbing one, and this "tangent" may reflect a preoccupation among artists and thinkers of those decades with the inconsistencies and hypocrisies which could sometimes arise from charitable works, especially those undertaken by the middle or upper classes.

Another impressive figure in this novel is the detective Mr Bucket, whose energy and resourcefulness colour many of the chapters. His investigative journey with Esther is both gripping and absorbing.

Other themes which permeate the Bleak House "universe" pertain to the social conventions of the day. Even progressive-minded individuals were hemmed in my such considerations. The criteria for determining marriage choices and career options are a common thread, as are the deferential attitudes of even the enlightened and independent.  Despite what some people might think, there are ways in which the world has definitely improved....

I was quite taken by the manner in which Dickens depicted some of the lawyers; not exactly as caricatures, but in a way which underlined his own perspective , and giving voice to the distaste harboured by many people.

Rightly or wrongly, I discerned a message in Bleak House about usefulness to society or humanity. Doubts are expressed whether some elements of the legal profession contribute to the greater good. Other people "add value" to society, either through industriousness, service-provision or simply their virtues, goodness and by positively influencing others. 

I found 'Bleak House' to be a long, occasionally arduous read, but an enthusing and eminently worthwhile one. I can see why some have come to estimate it as one of Dickens' most complete and admirable works.

The Persuaders (television series)

 I recently watched most of the episodes of 'The Persuaders', the early 1970s British action/comedy/adventure television series. The two main stars of the show were Roger Moore and Tony Curtis.

The series follows the exploits of two playboys, from contrasting backgrounds, who are brought together to investigate and resolve various intrigues and injustices. 

'The Persuaders' is very much of its time, in terms of the aesthetic flavour which it exudes, and the attitudes exhibited by the characters and the scripts/dialogue. However, it is highly entertaining and technically well put-together.

Curtis (who plays the Daniel Wilde character) and Moore (who plays Brett Sinclair), make for an engaging and charismatic pairing, although I'm not entirely sure that their "chemistry" is as terrific as some have made out.

Some of the episodes are set in Southern Europe (Monte Carlo, Italy, south of France, Spain), ensuring some spectacular scenery and some late 'dolce vita' glamour. Other episodes are set in the more prosaic location of England.

I do not think that the scripts and the stories were meant to be taken too seriously, and some of the plot-lines rely heavily on coincidences and good fortune for our heroes.

Curtis hams things up constantly, and this provides a neat contrast with Moore's more reserved, measured and economical delivery.

I was too young to take in the series when it was originally broadcast. It seems to me that it was influenced by shows which had gone before (notably 'the Avengers') and that it itself foreshadowed some other "crime shows", such as 'The Professionals'. 

My impression when viewing 'The Persuaders' is that it is more "Sixties" than "Seventies". It is frivolous (in a good way) rather than gritty or dark, and the bright, shiny colours evoke the optimism of an age more than they do the more "cynical" later decade. 

The episodes achieve a nice balance of espionage-orientated stories with "ordinary" criminal cases and tales of financial or corporate sharp-practice.

A feature of the show is the quality and impact of the guest stars. Harold Innocent, Alfred Marks, Patrick Troughton, Hannah Gordon and Peter Bowles are just some of the notable names who illuminate and elevate various episodes.

A word, too, for John Barry's superbly atmospheric theme music, which still attracts praise and mention to this day.

It is noteworthy that the two lead characters, Sinclair and Wilde, have lived quite dissolute, even aimless, existences, but they rise to their tasks with gusto. Admittedly it takes some "leverage" in the first episode to get them going as a team. They are brought together and suitably "motivated" by Judge Fulton (excellently portrayed by Laurence Naismith). 

So, a highly endearing and watchable series, which has a charm and atmosphere all its own. Some people have said that they should have made more than the 24 episodes, but I think that if they had gone on, they would have started repeating themselves  and treading old ground, a fate which has befallen some other very worthy television shows.

Charles Dickens - the novel "David Copperfield"

 After reading Charles Dickens' 'Great Expectations' a little while ago, I turned my attentions to a work which, I was assured, had similarities in its approach and atmosphere. 

My initial conclusions, whilst navigating the opening chapters of "David Copperfield", were that this was a more substantial novel than "Expectations", complex and linear but incorporating a multiplicity of strands and characters.

In a similar vein to the other book, "David Copperfield" serves as a window on 19th century societal conditions and mores, but in this regard it is relatively "undemonstrative", with the words being left to speak for themselves, by and large. More overt and direct commentary might have spoiled the effect.

Maybe this is simply symptomatic of my failing capacity for memory, but I found it difficult to keep track of the various characters, locations and story sub-plots. 

Early on I detected a generation gap as a central issue in the story, but later on I revised my impressions in this area, as older figures exhibited progressive, reasonable and humane approaches and behaviour, and younger people displayed rigid and reactionary attitudes. The message being, perhaps, that we can all change, be influenced by our environment and our social circle, but also that we have it within our power to transcend the limitations and conventions of social stratification and "expectations". 

The length of time encompassed by the narrative permits the reader to "root" for certain characters, groups of characters or "factions" and their aspirations. The titular character certainly had his hands full, but this perception may be slightly distorted by the "compression" of the timelines in the novel.

A theme which comes and goes within this work is the detachment of certain sectors of society from any consciousness of social issues and social concerns. But, perhaps significantly, Dickens appears keen to point out, via characters such as David's aunt, that these attitudes were not uniform amongst certain social groups and age-groups. This care ensures that we are not always looking at caricatures and stereotypes.

The Uriah Heep character is a compelling creation and Dickens' descriptions of him, as seem through the eyes of David, are deliciously pungent. The dryness of the narrator's (i.e. David's) humour is quite infectious, but close scrutiny is advisable in order to derive the most from this aspect of the text.

One element of this novel which mildly surprised me was the "Romantic" flavour of the passages concerning David's love life. Even if this is not your cup of tea, stay with it, because there is a pay-off later on.

Going back to the social commentary, a picture is painted of a murky morass of protectionism and exclusion; institutions which are opaque and impenetrable. It is a world of deference and reverence, and even a dynamic young man such as David is often obliged to conform in order to "get on". 

The obstructions put in place by the rarefied, and the stench of rottenness in some quarters and corners of society, emanate strongly from these pages. The tendency of people to "pull the ladder up" when they have ascended also emerges as a recurring trend here. The fear of people reverting to their former status led them to behave unnaturally and haughtily.

I'm unsure whether I could really recommend this novel as a starting point for those wishing to explore the world of Charles Dickens, especially for younger people. The sheer length of the story, and the range of characters and sub-texts, ensures that this one turns out as a demanding journey.

A number of "coincidences" and "serendipities" serve to knit the story together, and I can understand how this might put some readers off, no matter how dramatic and affecting the individual instances might appear.

Without wishing to give things away unduly, I found the ending convincingly brought out and poetically rendered., even if it was not entirely unpredictable. I can see, though, why some might deem the "resolution" to be excessively neat and tidy.

I would say that the "narrator"'s aunt is the most rounded and plausible character, and in some respects the most likeable. Her presence, in a sense, is the backbone of much that occurs. 

As I observed when reading "Great Expectations", I quite admire the author's tendency to let major, even pivotal, incidents pass by almost without explicit or concrete description. This gives us readers something to do.

So, I would estimate that this novel has more depth and emotional gravitas than "Great Expectations", the characters being evoked and developed more vividly and stridently. It is worth persevering even when things seem to meander or consolidate.  The autobiographical flavour adds additional intrigue and interest.

Out Of The Silent Planet - C.S. Lewis

 This book, 'Out of The Silent Planet', by C.S. Lewis, had been for some years one of those novels which I desired to read, but it had hitherto evaded my scrutiny. Only in recent unusual circumstances did I decide to obtain a copy. 

This work is the first in a science-fiction trilogy composed by the author. The plot centres on the "kidnapping" of an academic by two other men, following which he is taken by space-ship to the planet Malacandra, which later turns out to be Mars. He then has to navigate interactions with the various inhabitants of the planet.

Though ostensibly a work of science-fiction, 'Out of The Silent Planet' has about it much of a fantasy or 'adventure' flavour, especially when the action is concentrated on Malacandra. I would say, however, that the fantasy element is much less intricate and "opulent" than I had been led to expect. 

The passages which detail the exploits of the Ransom character, his exploration of the landscapes and social systems of Malacandra, are related quite evocatively, and the author manages to ably paint pictures with words, so that readers (or at least, this reader) can gain a grasp of the nature of the planet and its characteristics. The language employed I did not find elaborate or ornate, but it conveys the surroundings and events effectively and entertainingly.

The philosophical themes are not exactly innovative. The question of human progress and scientific discovery set against individual rights and liberties, though, is always worth revisiting, and seems especially apposite to year 2025.

Eventually the fantasy orientation of the novel recedes a little, to be superseded by more sci-fi fare, in the form of discussions about the civilisation and social organisation of Malacandra. I was impressed by the fact that some of the prominent beings on the planet were non-humanoid. I am not sure whether this was novel or old-hat in the 1930s?

There are some interesting allusions to the rights of, and the differences between, the sentient beings. A reminder that some planets may not be ordered the same as Earth, in societal and evolutionary terms.

It seemed to me that we were expected to "take for granted" some aspects of the story, such as Ransom's facility in understanding the Malacandra inhabitants' languages and modes of communication. That said, the analyses of Ransom's mental state are quite organic, forming an ongoing thread as he learns more about this world and its structure and development.

What I liked about 'Out of The Silent Planet' is that as I turned the pages, I had next to no idea of what was going to occur next.

So, this was an intriguing reading experience, if not what I was quite anticipating. It probably makes even more sense when one has read the entire trilogy, something which I might get around to doing at some point.

Moral Combat - A History of World War II - Michael Burleigh

This book, "Moral Combat", by Michael Burleigh, had been sitting on my shelves for quite some time. I had picked at it tentatively in the past; only recently did I take the step of reading it from cover to cover. I am glad that I took that step.

This is not really an exhaustive chronological account of the conflict. Rather, it seeks to examine some of the moral aspects of this fateful epoch in world history. It even goes beyond that brief, in my estimation, serving as an engaging and highly readable look at those years.

I like the emphasis on "case studies", examples from on the ground to illustrate the moral quandaries and dilemmas which confronted people, military personnel and civilians alike. The diplomatic and strategic intricacies are similarly explored.  Much of the material is spawned by the arrival of the USSR as allies of Britain and the US, how this created new realities, at many levels of the struggle, with regard to small nations, resistance groups and so forth. 

One of the strengths of this book is the inclusion of numerous small nuggets of information, which together augment the understanding and knowledge.

I found the writing style quite to my liking; not particularly dry, and with some levity here and here. The author is not afraid to venture his personal viewpoints on certain issues, and his views on modern historians make for intriguing reading.

As someone who has latterly embraced pragmatism with a vengeance, as a guiding light in my life and my world-view, some of the topics scrutinized here are quite close to home, one might say.

This is not a very comfortable book to read, but I don't think it was intended to be so. I was left with some mixed feelings; some despair at "human nature", at mankind's continuing failure to learn and to move on, but also some resolve that it doesn't have to be so bleak and so negative. 

As mentioned earlier, Burleigh has a few things to say about modern historians, some impatience with their attitudes. Some people, I suspect, might find some of the author's attitudes, shall we say, " traditional". I prefer to interpret them as common-sense, eminently humane and moderate. I would venture to suggest that if more individuals embraced such shades of outlook, the world would suffer little harm. In an age when "utopianism" and "absolutes" are so prevalent in people's thinking, I find this realism and objectivity refreshing and encouraging. 

Although the general tone is one of moderation, the author is quite blunt in places, debunking the reputations of some figures who are generally well thought of. So, this work is certainly anything but bland, and there are anecdotes aplenty to support the views expressed.

A strand in the narrative which stuck out for me was how some of the attitudes documented here are "of their time" but at the same time still worryingly widespread nowadays, leading one to question just how far we have really come since the 1940s, how "susceptible" so many people still are.

One recurring lesson when analysing the 1939-45 conflict is that "big numbers" can become almost meaningless, just statistics. Here Burleigh counter-acts such tendencies by his frequent use of localised, tangible and relatable stories, which serve to make the content more understandable, digestible and real.

Throughout this exploration the author maintains and communicates a healthy distaste for totalitarian and historicist philosophies. All of this acts as a very necessary corrective to any complacent or blase thoughts which might enter our minds. 

I read and finished reading "Moral Combat" quite quickly, but assiduously, usually a sign of a valuable and readable book. And yes, this is a very valuable and readable book.