The Camomile Lawn is a production bursting with delicious characters superbly portrayed by a quality cast. The "action" is split between the early years of World War 2 and the "present": 1980's/1990, telling a number of individual but interlinked stories that are by turns touching, shocking and humorous. The lovely Jennifer Ehle as the promiscuous and self seeking Calypso, Tara Fitzgerald as Polly and Felicity Kendall as Helena all bring glamour to their excellent performances as the three leading ladies in the earlier period. Rebecca Hall shines as the naive but worldly child Sophie, trying to make sense of the adult world around her. There are also some cleverly observed turns from the male cast, including the irrascible Richard (Paul Eddington), Oliver (Toby Stephens), and some lovely supporting roles, especially that of no-nonsense, heart of gold Aunt Sarah played marvellously by Polly Adams (Aunt Helen, A Dark Adapted Eye).
Kendal reprises her role in the "present" with grey wig and heavy makeup, while Calypso and Polly are played by Rosemary Harris (Ehle's own real life mother) and Virginia Mckenna respectively, giving a convincing likeness to aid continuity whilst showing that time has most definitely moved on. Claire Bloom seamlessly takes the role of the older Sophie after a gap of forty years, giving a new perspective on the events she witnessed as a child.

The plot and characters are perhaps slightly frivolous against the backdrop of war, but nevertheless capture the essence of the time. The character of Calypso, a woman who most definitely "had a good war" is a very likeable but recogniseable stereotype.

The Camomile Lawn certainly contains some potentially shocking material, both in terms of language and sex, but it is a highly enjoyable and entertaining story of a family's survival and thirst for life under the shadow of World War 2, and their recognition in peacetime forty years later that some things were less complicated then than now.

Having just finished reading this wonderful book for the third time, I am once again left completely satisfied by the read and yet utterly bereft to have reached the end.
As another reviewer observed, Nobbs hits precisely the right note of intertwining comedy/tragedy as two sides of the same coin. Kate was a witty, charming and deeply lovable character, seemingly able to hold her own in any situation, except perhaps in the area of her heart. The accounts of her various relationships/marriages are described to perfection, each quite different, yet all profoundly moving, illustrating the fact that life is not black and white: that you can love someone you are not with, or be with someone who you do not love (enough). The supporting characters are colourful and diverse, from the rather dull and conventional offspring of Kate herself (so often true that the children of someone extraordinary are very ordinary), to the various eccentricities of her parents and extended family: her spinster sister Enid and her tactless and outspoken sister-in-law Bunny. Nobbs is the master of the understatement, and often says much more about his characters in a few well chosen words than another writer could in a chapter.
For anyone who has not read David Nobbs before, this novel is a jewel in his crown, but the crown is heavily bejewelled, and the "Bit of a do" novels and the Pratt series are also well worth dipping into.

Mrs Henderson Presents is a thoroughly enjoyable film. I took my 82 year old grandmother to see it at the cinema, and she found it both highly entertaining and quite nostalgic as she herself had frequented the Windmill Theatre while in the WAAF during the war.
The balance of humour and melancholy hit the perfect note. Judi Dench was everything one would expect, handling the emotions of grieving widowhood and the excitement of a new life and venture with great subtlety. It was also a refreshing change to see Bob Hoskins not playing a cockney for once. But for me, it was Thelma Barlow (formerly Coronation Street's Mavis, and Dolly from Dinnerladies) as Mrs Henderson's bosom friend Lady Conway who stole the show in terms of comic timing and great one-liners. Will young made a creditable screen debut in a fairly undemanding acting role, though his voice lent itself perfectly to the flavour of songs of the thirties and forties. Kelly Reilly gave a very touching performance as the tragic Maureen.
After seeing a harrowing documentary about the blitz recently, I felt the wartime sequence of the film superbly captured the terror of nightly bombardment, coupled with a great hunger for enjoyment of life shared both by the performers and the patrons of the theatre.
This is undoubtedly one of my favourite recent films, and one which certainly justifies more than one viewing.

As with the previous reveiwer, I cannot praise Barbara Vine's latest work enough. As is often the case with Vine's books, this ia a true slow-burner, and the real action does not occur until the latter parts of the book, but the build up and characters are so compelling you are gripped from the outset, feeling, perhaps like Kerstin that you are an outsider given a privileged but disturbing vantage point to observe the family in the Hall. The Cosways are a superb creation, sinister, grotesque, comedic and pitiable by turns, certainly a dysfunctional family to rival the dynamics of the Hilliard/Longley family in A Dark adapted Eye (One of my favourites from her earlier works). The clues and pointers are placed strategically from the start, from the characters reaquainted with Kerstin at the start and those they mention, to the Roman vase, the library and Lydstep Old Hall itself, leading you compulsively onwards to the shattering conclusions. I was slightly concerned at one point that developments toward the end would result in a cheap pastiche of events in Jane Eyre and Rebecca, but Vine creates her own set of circumstances, and by references to both, she deftly avoids this.
I have thoroughly enjoyed and wholeheartedly reccommend The Minotaur

Like the other reviewers, this is certainly a book that has followed me into adulthood (I'm 33) and I clearly remember the chilling t.v. adaptation of the late seventies. I am fortunate to still have the copy of the book I had when at school, and even now, I am still in awe of how convincing Lucy's story is, and her terrifying ordeal at the hands of ghostly Alice. The pace of the book is perfect, with the character of Alice slowly evolving from the friend Lucy so desperately craves, to the enemy she fears, whilst concurrently her adoptive family turn from apparently unsympathetic strangers to the loving family she cannot initially accept that she needs, there to pick up the pieces when Lucy and Alice's friendship reaches its tense and frightening conclusion. An excellent read that is well overdue for republishing for another generation to enjoy.

Every episode of the two series are a joy, with each round of genteel hostilities cleverer and wittier than the last. The whole cast are perfectly selected, especially Geraldine McEwan as the effortlessly regal Lucia and Prunella Scales as the evil Miss Mapp (if you thought she played a bitch as Sybil Fawlty, then just wait until you see her as Elizabeth Mapp), not to mention the wonderful supporting cast including Nigel Hawthorne as the effeminate Georgie and Mary Mcloud as the wonderful Diva, always on hand to put Elizabeth in her place, and a reliable barometer of feeling between the two leading lady rivals. This series is enormously entertaining, with the exceptional exchange of so many sugared but lethal words between the characters. What a pity there have not been more drama series of this quality of recent years. Oh, and buy the books too :-)

I loved Paradise Road when I saw it on the big screen, but was incredibly disappointed to find that key scenes had been cut for the video. Scenes such as the funeral of Pauline Collins' character, where the mourners beat out the tune of Chopin's funeral march with pepples in an act of defiance to the cruel Japanese guards. Also, a scene where Jennifer Ehle escapes to secretly meet her lover, then subsequently discovers that he is dead is vital to explain why this character suddenly gives up hope and dies. All in all, this is an excellent production, like a big screen Tenko, but which has been spoiled by atrocious editing.