Last night I went to a screening of Tamara Drewe, a Posy Simmonds comic (or "graphic novel"?) beloved of a certain type of Guardian reader.
It looks beautiful and director Stephen Frears -- creator of such LeDuc favourites as Dangerous Liaisons and The Grifters -- has faithfully translated it to the screen.
It's just that... it feels like such a wretchedly misogynistic film. All the women are wet dishrags, either doormats or tarts. Even the spunky village gels are aspiring to be WAGs. I shouldn't judge it too harshly, I guess -- it's meant to be a jolly, Sunday afternoon sort of film, and it was nice to see lots of middle aged, boring people being quite witty even if I didn't identify with anyone at all.
The film has some great comedic talent, including genius actor Tamsin Greig (who I fell in love with in Black Books, and who almost turned me straight in Green Wing. Thank God for Boyce, putting me back onto the righteous path of queerdom).
Boy totty is provided by Dominic Cooper (who I don't fancy a single jot) and the lovely Luke Evans (who I do):
Evans is one of the world's few out gay actors, which is nice.
Alas, here he plays a straight boy to a tee. I spose that's why they call him an actor.
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