Writing 101 – Day 20 (Friday 2nd October 2015) – The future
Okay so I skipped out on half the Writing 101 prompts in this series because I’m a bad and lazy person.
It did get me writing on the reg though so I can’t say it’s been a waste of time, and it has had me snarking a lot with Jill (seriously, some of the prompts have been so corny)! So I’m chalking this one down as a success, why not?
The future though? Hmmm.
All I really know about that is that it’s coming (if I can avoid double-decker buses and flesh-eating toilet dwelling spiders) and I haven’t the slightest idea what the fudge I’m doing in it.
Is it okay if I just plod along as I’m doing now and hope for the best? I can tell you with certainty that I won’t be having a baby or running a marathon.
I can tell you that I hope in say, a year, to be in a better place fiscally, my husband still likes me (obvs he will) and that I’m feeling healthier. Maybe that I’ve finally gone on holiday and don’t feel bad about it.
I’d like to tell you by then, but anytime soon is grand, that I’ve learnt not to be so stressed about everything (literally everything) and that I’ve learned to bat away as much anxiety as possible.
I’d like to have muscles, to maybe be doing another job or if not that then be writing, in a more professional capacity. I’d like to have finally seen Southpaw. I’d like to have at least started Mad Men.
Go on then, Cheri, I’ll do one of your prompts.
I believe that my future looks . . .
I choose happiness. Sure, curve balls are always thrown and pure shit happens but I’m ready to take all that and still choose happiness.
Jillian’s choice for our Free For All Fortnightand cor blimey it’s a good ‘un. If you like cocks, swearing, vomit, spit, shagging, cross dressing, cocaine and violence that is.
Luckily, I live for that shit!
All that really matters here is that I’m not watching If I Stay and being bored to tears so right away Filth has the upper hand. I’ve actually seen this film before but I don’t have to be asked twice to spend a few hours with Jame McAvoy, even if he is a git of the highest order here.
I’m a big Irvine Welsh fan but haven’t actually read the novel Filth yet, though it is on my shelf. I’m told it explains parts of the film much better than the film does, but I’ll have to reserve judgement until I actually pick it up. Getting into the way Irvine Welsh writes can sometimes seem like a chore, though once you’re there it is well worth it.
IMDB Synopsis: A corrupt, junkie cop with Borderline Personality Disorder attempts to manipulate his way through a promotion in order to win back his wife and daughter while also fighting his own borderline-fueled inner demons.
Bruce Robertson is a bit of a mess, truth be told. Junkie, corrupt, alcoholic, arsehole – any one of these words and more could be used to accurately describe our friend. Yet, he’s happily married with a child and being considered for a promotion, from Detective Sergeant to Inspector.
Quickly, however, it becomes apparent that things aren’t as they seem with this guy and that he’s suffering from a personality disorder. He’s not a nice person really, displaying all the traits of someone you would move heaven and earth to avoid (aka. my ex) yet, not everyone is onto Bruce yet.
Despite his secret campaign to bring down pretty much everyone he’s ever met, including his work colleagues (and competition), Bruce still has one true friend, Clifford Blades. This doesn’t make Bruce soft, however as he has a unique way to thank Clifford for his loyalty, and it ain’t flowers and chocolate.
The film begins with the unfortunate murder of a Japanese tourist, witnessed by a mystery blonde in a leopard print coat. The kids responsible for beating this poor boy to death are startled away when they realise they’ve been spotted.
Later, we find out this is the case Bruce is working on. The appearance of the glamorous blonde is significant as she bears more than a passing resemblance to Carole Robertson (Shauna Macdonald), Bruce’s wife. This may be the reason Bruce fails to mention her as their main witness to the rest of the team.
As Bruce and his colleagues start to look into the murder case, he starts to lose it big time, suffering from severe hallucinations, not helped by the copious amount of drugs and booze he’s consuming. Bruce is haunted not only by these terrifying illusions but it seems also by a small ghost boy called Davey. What’s that all about, hmmm?
Bruce is obviously a troubled soul who might not be worth saving but he’s obviously arrived at this place through a serious of tragedies. We soon learn Carole has left for another man and taken their daughter with her, leaving Bruce bereft. Can he get this promotion and win back his family? (Don’t worry, questions section to follow!).
In the midst of all this trauma, comes a sliver of hope in the form of Mary (Joanne Froggatt), a recently widowed young mother. Bruce was there when her partner suffered a heart attack in the street and tried to save his life – so Mary thinks Bruce is a good person.
I feel like I don’t want to give too much away on this film as it is a bit of a caper, leading you down, down, down to rock bottom and beyond. He makes prank phone calls to Clifford’s wife, Bunty (Shirley Henderson) then frames Clifford; steals, lies, cheats and manipulates until there’s nowhere else for him to go.
Let’s just say Bruce fucks over people without prejudice, has violently abusive relationships, shags everyone and hurts the people who care for him the most. Admittedly, this list of loved ones is dwindling quickly.
But where will he go from here and can he get any lower?
Want some questions? I got questions! Is there a good person at the core of Bruce? Will he get his family back, or will he start a fresh elsewhere? Will he ever make it up to adorable Clifford, the one true friend he has?
Will Clifford ever get a decent pair of spectacles? And will he ever get anywhere with his perpetually unimpressed bride?
Will Bruce pull it together and get the promotion, or at the very least will he solve the murder? Who’s the mystery blonde, and where can I get her coat?
Phew. This isn’t for the faint-hearted which is exactly why I liked it. I love James McAvoy and appreciate his diverse CV. I even fancied him in this which is pretty hard to do since he’s repugnant.
I must admit to watching this with redemption in mind, I mean most awful human beings in films (only films alas) end up redeeming themselves somehow, if not undergoing a complete moral turnaround. I can’t say if I was right to hope for this but I can say that I’d forgotten the ending until it started playing out again, and it hasn’t lost its impact.
BTW this film stars one of my all time favourite actors, Eddie Marsan who plays Clifford. He’s such a nuanced actor and recently moved me to near hysterics in a low-key film called Still Life (2013), which I really recommend.
All in all, I don’t have much bad to say other than a lot of things have happened to Bruce to make him who he is and it could get a bit all over the place if you weren’t paying attention. The surreal sessions he shares with his psychiatrist (Broadbent) get a little grating after a while.
Also, the bit I mentioned above that is elaborated on in the book (apparently) does not come through in the film at all.
My Rating: 4/5 (5/5 for Jame McAvoy, any day of the week)
What did Jill think? Pop on over for a look-see shortly!
Search terms are topical at the moment, as Jill just blogged about them in a rather hilarious way. I tend never to check mine because I forget where they’re located tbh and I’m generally a bit of a fool.
But today’s stood out like a sore thumb: jane seymour bum.
Excuse me? I mean I’ve maybe mentioned men’s bums once in the past and I do agree that Jane Seymour is a fine looking woman (and one of the best Bond girls to date) but I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned her derriere.
What goes through people’s minds? Also, dear whoever was looking not just for a nice bum to stare at but a very specific bottom indeed, I’m sorry. There are no bums to see here, except maybe the word ‘bum’.
A word which, incidentally, got me into much trouble as a kid. My overuse of this expletive resulted in having my mouth washed out with soap and water by my mother (it was the 80’s, swear words weren’t as evolved back then).
Also, I should say that my mum is the greatest living woman and a joy, not the evil matriarch I make her out to be purely for entertainment value.
I know we’re all supposed to live by the mantra that there should be no regerts in life. I get the philosophy, I do; even the worst decisions should teach us a lesson that helps us make the next ones a little better.
All those heartbreaks, kissing frogs, dancing in the street until 8am, flipping the bird at your pervert boss: them’s life experiences, yo. And you’d be nothing without them, trust me.
Yet. I think it’s okay to look back and think “Ooooooooooooo-eeeeeeee WTAF was I thinking there?” The minor regrets.
Some of mine:
87% of my childhood/teenage haircuts
Giving my brother a black eye with my Barbie horse in 1985 (or thereabouts) and denying all knowledge of it being me because he was asleep at the time, and why would I? *innocent eyes*
Being so into Vanilla Ice
Ra ra skirts
Not seeing more of Australia (met a boy din’t I?)
At least 50% of the time I’ve spent with my ‘sink’ friends (the ones that drain you)
Hitchhiking (nothing bad happened but I still reel at how stupid we were)
Not buying that amazing white leopard print coat (1998)
Whatever it was that I did to get myself grounded and unable to attend ‘that school disco’, it could have been a game changer (but then again, probably not)
Taking out my amazing ear piercings for work
Star Wars II: Attack of the Clones
Not telling people who’ve told me I’d be beautiful if only I *insert their version of a beauty ideal here* to go and fuck themselves. Sideways
So no big ones there.
The biggest regret I have but don’t count, because so much good came out of it, was my six years of Hell. I’m sure most of you know how that story goes by now.
I can now, thankfully say that that isn’t my longest standing relationship anymore. And even though looking back makes me cringe, I wouldn’t have what I have now without it. That’s just a fact.