The Courier & Advertiser (Angus and Dundee)
Of grumpy Hugh and the hair apparent...
I’ve never had much of a soft spot for Hugh Grant but I’ve always admired a grumpy man – don’t ask me why, I think it has something to do with my dear, departed and more than somewhat nebby Dad – and Hugh comes over as someone who can strop with the best of them.
A few weeks ago, he complained, via social media, about the ear-splitting soundtrack of Joker, Joaquin Phoenix’s finest filmic hour of recent years.
His family visit to the picture hoose was, according to Hugh, “unendurable” because of the sound levels. Which most of the rest of us might well describe as “noise”. Loud noise at that, all part of what those who offer such entertainment describe as part of the “immersive” experience.
The response to Hugh’s harangue from creators Dolby sound systems, seems to be that they are committed to setting their volume control at No 7 (around, it would seem, 85 decibels), which is supposed to be acceptable to most human ears. Although it reminds one inexorably of the epic rock ’n’ roll spoof, Spinal Tap, where the amplifier was famously turned “up to 11”, according to Nigel Tufnel, guitarist with the world’s loudest band. Given the incidence of deafness among rock musicians of a certain vintage, even fictional ones, I think Hugh might feel that his point has been well proved.
But in addition, now he has turned his ire on the Pret A Manger snack emporium, castigating them for their November Christmas menu launch, complete with silly Santa hats for the beleaguered staff and the loud playing of “Christmas Musical Favourites.” Favourites with whom was not recorded. Obviously not Mr Grant.
Their response to his blast of unseasonal Grinchery was the somewhat sheepish promise to go back to their usual format and fodder until December 1, obviously completely missing that point that, supposedly,
Christmas comes but once a year. Of course, in recent years, Christmas does indeed come but once a year but for three months at a time.
I feel therefore that I must point out that there is only one sure-fire way to know when the festive build-up can – and should – start. In recent years, one Noddy Holder has been pictured gesturing at the viewer in a menacing fashion, somewhat like the famous “Kitchener Needs YOU” image, accompanied by the message: “It isn’t Christmas until I say so!” As the Slade vocalist himself was once known to opine: “Cum On Feel the Noize”…
A real head-scratcher
Much is being made of the premise of the new TV drama, Gold Digger, about a younger man having an affair with an older woman. The reverse position, if I can put it like that, of a younger woman and an older man, does tend to be more common and more visible in a society that fetishises youth and beauty in women and power and authority in men. Think of the fuss made about French leader Emmanuel Macron and his wife Brigitte, whose age gap is almost exactly the same as that between Donald and Melania Trump.
Hum. Now, take the case of actor Keanu Reeves who appeared at a film event recently with his partner, artist Alexandra Grant.
Mr Reeves is 55 and Ms Grant, 46. So even at her advanced age, she is, after all, almost a decade younger than her beau. But the comment about the two seems to centre around the fact that not only is she 40-something, she has (shock, horror, probe) grey hair. How could he be seen with someone who vaguely looks her age? Has George Clooney taught us nothing? Did Helen Mirren dye in vain?
Of course, if you look at the headshot accompanying this column, I obviously have an axe to grind. But at my time of life, perhaps that’s better than splitting hairs. Especially grey ones.