I'll Never Be Anybody's Hero Now

Well, I'm sure my view on the film version of The History Boys is going to be contentious because... I loved it! I don't possess that potentially snobby attitude that it can't possibly be as good on the screen because, darling, it was such a marvellous film, because apart from anything else there's no point in comparing two entirely different media. Perhaps I would have been disappointed if the script and setting had been lifted wholesale with the odd bit stripped away (I was worried about that since the film lasts less than two hours) but in fact the best lines are still there ("I'm a Jew. I'm small. I'm a homosexual and I live in Sheffield. I'm fucked.") and Alan Bennett has actually rewritten huge swathes of the script, often to great effect. This allows Rudge (the boy for whom the National audience cheered when he got one over on the headmaster by getting a place at Oxford) a brief monologue about how actually it's all bollocks and he doesn't want to go there anyway (I'm inclined to agree, though possibly out of bitterness), and, even more movingly, Lockwood (who is a more minor character in the play) goes into the army after Cambridge, and is killed by "friendly fire" in the Gulf War. To my surprise. Georgia Taylor's character was actually pretty good, and (I won't spoil it for you) the new slant she gave to the end was much more satisfying!

Other changes are, in my view, a pity, though this is largely down to personal opinion. They cut out Irwin's wonderful TV historian scene ("If you want to learn about Stalin, study Henry VIII; if you want to learn about Thatcher study Henry VIII), which means they cut out his becoming a TV historian altogether. Actually, Irwin is an altogether more likeable character in the film, which was quite refreshing, but perhaps less fun.

Still, I can't imagine why the Guardian was quite so scathing. Amongst other things they accused the language of being often unrealistic as Bennett was using stage language onscreen. 1.) Who cares? and 2.) I thought that was the whole point? Often the kids are trying to be smart arses (and largely succeeding) or actively living a sort of game (indeed, applying to Oxbridge is actually referred to as a kind of game, and having tried it myself and failed, I would say they're spot-on) and their language - I felt - reflected the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Anyway, I would highly recommend it, despite having paid £8.50 (sob - I am no longer a student) for the priviledge.

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Life is getting rather less enjoyable by the minute at the moment, and I feel as though I'm sinking into some sort of pit I can't clamber out of again. This i probably because on Saturday I had the worst migraine of my life. At least, I'm hoping that's all it was. Hypochondriac that I am, in my half-sleep state on Saturday night I was absolutely convinced that I was going to die, and dreamed about what I might put in my will. That in itself was entirely depressing as I don't have much to give away in the first place. As well as a pain in one side of my head the right-hand side of my face around my ear went numb, and I had a shooting pain all down my right arm. My head hurt so much I couldn't physically life it off the pillow. Add to this that (as I view it at the moment, anyway) my only offering to the world is a book full of typos that looks like it's been produced for Year 2 students, plus I'm living with someone who listens to Mahler and is constantly telling me I haven't put enough washing up liquid in the washing up bowl, and I am inclined to think, in the words of Kenneth Williams (yeah, classy, I know!) "What's the bloody point?"

Answers on a postcard, please :-)