I was writing to a friend now living in France to thank her for a lovely Christmas card but one thing led to another as often happens in my daft life. I do not think she will mind if I post an extract from the email.
The very French card made me think of Jacques Tati last night and I dug out a dvd which my son had copied for me years ago. Mon Oncle. Great stuff. The first time I heard about Tati was just after I arrived on Singapore Island with my regiment in 1955 (told you I was an old humbug). There was a makeshift cinema at the garrison where we were stationed before heading for active service in Malaya. The cinema was run by The Army Kinema Corps and the word flew around that there was to be ‘ A French fillum’ (it was a Scottish regiment!) shown that evening. Much winking, oooing etc. If it was a French movie it must be a bit naughty.
The small theatre was packed. I bought a newspaper twist of peanuts from a wee Chinese woman with tiny feet (the wee woman had tiny feet, mine were size eight in my army boots) and sat back in my rattan chair to enjoy the wicked French movie.
The ‘fillum’ had been running for about five minutes when I was aware of rather a great deal of movement around me but I was engrossed in the movie and paid no attention to the noises off. When I eventually stirred and looked around me I was mystified to find that I was the only guy left in the cinema. They had all been expecting a naughty French movie and what we got was Jacques Tati in Hulots Holiday. Fantastic!! I have been a firm fan of Tati since then.
That’s all folks!