Derek Jarman was one of the most interesting independent film makers of the last quarter of the 20th century. His latest volume of his diaries starts from where his previous volume, Modern Nature, left off, covering the period from May 1991 to February 1994, just a fortnight before his death from an AIDS-related illness. Fans will relish the accounts of back-stage in-fighting over low budgets and impossible timetables, and his acerbic comments on the gay scene. Jarman's zest for, and curiosity about life never diminished, and these last, previously unpublished, writings, penned from his flat in London, the wild and beautiful garden he fashioned in the shadow of Dungeness power station in Kent, and his hospital bed, are a testament to his courage and irreverence in the face of a horrifying illness. Jarman was a one-off, an iconoclast--Smiling in Slow Motion is an acute reminder of his absence. --Christopher Hart --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
"Present on every page is the creative sparkle and compellingly generous spirit of a man who was in every way an uncompromising individual" (The Times)
"In these diaries... the artist and film director emerges as a down-to-earth visionary... this perceptive and enjoyable work is something of a miracle" (Independent)
"For all his anger, Jarman never seems brutalised. He retains his humanity and his good humour. His is a wonderfully garrulous, mercurial, polymathic daemon" (Literary Review)
"Jarman [is] the sort of troublemaking visionary who one day may be compared with Blake" (John Gill Time Out)