All the hype! Story about faith! Computer generated gimmicks! Boring!

Well, I went to my son's at Easter (he usually plays some after-dinner action flick with car chases), and he started the Blu-Ray, and, as the title came on the screen, I thought "Well, guess I'm stuck watching it! It did not take five minutes before I was caught spellbound, not only by the stunning beauty of the visual images but also by the flawless portrayals of the actors who were so natural that they didn't seem to be acting (The story is also laced with humour). Almost unawares I was so swept up with the story that I suspended my disbelief and was very close to tears at the utter beauty of what I was seeing. It is a cinematic masterpiece.

Of many scenes of magnificent beauty, the one in which the golden sky met the sea simply blew me away. The film is so astonishing that I quickly forgot the CGI.

And I didn't mind the two endings. Whether the more prosaic version was the truth or not is irrelevant. For me, it provided a framework for the layered symbolism of the 'romantic' narrative.

Ang Li's visual motifs are reminiscent of the verbal motifs of Greek tragedy. They penetrate deeply into the psychological elements of the characters, and the blurring of the boundaries between illusion and reality--the very ambiguity of 'what happened'--makes me want to watch the "Life of Pi" over and over, as there is so much to savour.

Happily, my son gave me the Blu-Ray disc!

I looked forward eagerly to Season Two of "The Hour", the first season of which I found absolutely riveting, watching it from beginning to end, and then re-watching it.

Although I found series two, which explores the politics of fear in the international race for the bomb, absorbing, I didn't think that the scenario was as tightly constructed as that of series one--perhaps too many subplots suggested, but because of the constraints of a six-part series, left unexplored.

As with the first series, the characters are well developed. The acting, in fact, is is flawless, particularly Peter Capaldi, the director of programming who replaced Anton Lesser (whose character is presumably being detained at HM's pleasure) and Anna Chancellor, who plays the cynical Lix, and this series reveals one of the reasons behind her chain-smoking cynicism.

The second series explores the troubled relationship between news anchor Hector and his unhappy wife. Dominic West manages to temper Hector's overweening ego with the vulnerability of a little boy lost, eventually rediscovering his long-buried generosity of spirit. Vincent Riotta displays a subtle menace as the owner of a trendy Soho night club (the elegance of which cannot quite hide its seediness), and we discover that there is more to Westminster spin doctor (to apply a term unknown in the 50s) Angus McCain--Julian Rhind-Tutt--than he would prefer the public to know. Hannah Tointon is convincing and moving in her role as a showgirl whose aspirations to climb the social ladder seem likely to be doomed, and the ensemble cast of the 'Hour Team' gives us an impression that we are 'backstage' at a working BBC production.

Romola Garai and Ben Whishaw continue their persuasive portrayals of the brilliant-but-lonely career-driven television journalists, Bel and Freddy, but I am less convinced of the chemistry that supposedly draws them together as a couple, but perhaps that is the point. They are drawn together by their mutual devotion to pursuing the story hell-or-high water and perhaps each represents the only one who could possibly fulfil the emotional needs of the other (I also thought that the charming actress playing Freddy's wife was wasted in a thankless role, since that subplot seemed undeveloped and became quickly buried under the main issue).

Nevertheless, series two still had me wanting to know what was going to happen next, and I fervently hope that there will be a series three.

I ordered this book from Amazon.com back in August, but, since it never seemed to arrive, I finally ordered it directly from Amazon.co.uk. It arrived promptly. Even with the extra foreign shipping costs, it was definitely worth the wait!

I read "Last Man Standing" because I am addicted to British politics (thanks to BBC Democracy Live and the UK Parliament website). I was especially interested in learning what a minister actually does during the course of his day. From Mr Straw's account of his thirteen years of juggling the ball of world events and, at the same time, managing his Blackburn constituency, I am impressed both with his energy and with his equanimity, particularly in navigating what I gather were sometimes treacherous political waters. I say 'gather', because Mr Straw is properly reticent on such matters. Those looking for sensational revelations about the Blair-Brown years will have to go elsewhere.

Mr Straw laces his memoir with frequent and often self-deprecating applications of keen wit. His compelling account of his childhood in Essex (one doesn't often read about an 'ordinary' child and future politician who has not attended public school) represents the perfect prelude for a career that eventually finds him wearing the knee breeches and heavy gold-braided robes of the Lord Chancellor (His choosing to do away with the "full bottom wig" seems especially apropos). Despite what must be the official restrictions on what he can tell us, Mr Straw gives his readers an intriguing glimpse of his career as both Home and Foreign Secretary as well as Leader of the House of Commons.

My overall impression gleaned from the narrative is that Jack Straw is an incredibly *nice* man. I enjoyed reading his political autobiography immensely.

A very dear German friend of mine, who had doubtless become weary of my raving about the first and greatest "Tannhäuser" that I'd ever experienced [I'd tell him every time we went to another performance of this my favourite Wagner opera], reminded me that he had given me this recording a year ago, and, since it is monaural, I hadn't got around to playing it yet. He advised me to skip act one--since the long Paris overture doesn't come over well technically, and go directly to Act 2. Feeling guilty about procrastinating, I did, and even though the orchestra introducing Elisabeth's -Dich, teure Halle- is a bit thin, the performances of Gré Brouwenstijn, Ramòn Vinay, and Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau make any audial deficiencies of the orchestra irrelevant. A hint of the conductor's skill and the orchestra's excellence is evident in Wagner's magnificent statement of the Dresden Amen that climaxes the prelude to act 3.

Yes! I was lucky enough, as a student, to attend the Bayreuth Festival in 1954 and experience this very "Tannhäuser." LE Cantrell's excellent review (on Amazon.com) mentions the miracle of Bayreuth recovering after the war and "Tannhäuser's" bare stage, but there was more to the story as I recall it. The seeming 'stage-set' husks of the buildings of Munich and Frankfurt, surrounded by miles of rubble, not only brought the stark consequences of war home to me, but also contrasted to the spare beauty of the stage-sets of the Bayreuth production.

The 'bare stage' was actually set at an almost 45 degree angle, using forced perspective. The singers had to tread very carefully. The sensuous Venusberg scene was accomplished by lighting--with concentric rings in the vague shape of an open seashell. In the dim light, one could have sworn that the dancers--doubtless in body suits--were unclothed, an effect that emphasised the eroticism of the scene and heightened the contrast between profane and sacred love at the heart of the plot that can be lost in lesser productions.

The floor of the Hall of Song was a black-and-white chequerboard--and the chorus, in mediaeval costume, entered like chess pieces, and sat in a box at the back of the stage, while the principals sang on the sharply angled stage in front. Ramon Vinay was handsome as Tannhauser should be; his enthusiasm still shines through in his act-two paean to Love, and his acting skill is evident in his heart-rending act-three account of his confrontation with the Pope; Gré Brouwenstijn was properly beautiful, and one can hear the poignancy in her voice in the haunting act two ensemble, in which she pleads on Tannhäuser's behalf. And the magnificent vigorously-paced choral ensemble that ends the act, with the words, -Nach Rom!- still thrills.

This was the first, but not the last, time that I saw/heard Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, whose velvet voice on this recording of -Abendstern- is incredibly moving. I recall that his scene and those with the shepherd and Pilgrims were set on a hill with flowers painted--perhaps with lighting--on the slanted stage floor. A great cross dominated one side of the stage. The chorus at the end of this recording still evokes an image of the Pilgrims silhouetted across the entire stage, facing front, with only their faces haloed. And the 'bravos' at the end of the recording bring back my emotions about a performance that was so thrilling that I remember thinking, "I never want to see another production of this opera, because no other will *ever* compare to it!"

Although my German friend happily persuaded me into seeing other performances of "Tannhäuser", which proved excellent, the 1954 Bayreuth production remains one of the most exciting evenings of musical theatre I have ever experienced. If this CD doesn't capture the entirety of that experience, at least it echoes it and evokes an exceptional memory that might have otherwise been lost.

I don't know whether it is the bottle of Prosecco I drank while watching this production of "Die Fledermaus", but I enjoyed it immensely.

No, it cannot compare to being at the Wiener Staatsoper in 1975, in my downstairs Stehplatz, and actually participating in the fun (with famous guest artists in the second act), but spending a New Year's eve in the company of Carlos Kleiber and the Bavarian Staatsoper and orchestra certainly is the next best thing.

Strauss's music is, of course, superb; the settings are delightful (the depressingly bourgeois home of the Eisensteins, the glittering elegance of Orlovsky's palazzo--the revolving stage allowed us to stroll along with the guests into the dining salon); and the dingy jail. The jokes (of Eisenstein and the Governor of the Prison pretending to be French; and Frosch and his Slivowitz and the hat that he can't quite hang on the peg) are as funny as ever (and even funnier enjoying a bottle of bubbly along with the acotrs).

My only quibble with this DVD, which I bought some years ago, so it probably has been fixed, has to do with some of the technical aspects. I decided to watch with the German subtitles so that I could follow along with the singing. This was fine, as long as everyone was actually singing, but as soon as the dialogue came on [at a much lower volume], off went the subtitles. I finally concluded that the producers of the DVD assumed that anyone who wanted the German subtitles would not need them for the dialogue, since it was their own language. This, however, as those of us who watch Shakespeare or Masterpiece Theatre will know, is not true. I found it annoying to have to turn up the volume to understand the dialogue. Then, when I decided to switch on the English, which accompanied the dialogue, I discovered that there was no mechanism to go to a particular scene, or to fast forward. I had to begin again at the beginning.

But then, I poured another glass of prosecco, decided it didn't matter in the least, and went to directly to act two and enjoyed the rest of the opera. A perfect way to spend New Year's Eve.

Happy New Year, everybody!

-La Piovra- actually translates to a gigantic squid capable of engulfing large ships. It is therefore an apt metaphor for Mafia, which the English rendition of "Octopus" simply does not convey.

"La Piovra 8" tells the story of Tano Cariddi, the brooding money launderer extraordinaire (played magnificently in the other Piovra series by Remo Girone). In this film we learn of Tano's more-than-troubled childhood in the Sicilian countryside, how he eventually received his education at the best schools, and how he came to live in [outwardly] respectable society.

As a one-off, this back-story, set in Sicily of the early fifties, is a cut above the last two or three series, which, although "La Piovra" is my *guilty pleasure*, quite frankly became rather conventional--not to say, clichéd--boiling down to the -strage dell'episodio-, the weekly massacre set to the music of Ennio Morricone [Morricone's opening theme with the taut violins usually signals a massacre!]. Since "La Piovra" 8 constitutes a period piece, however, the director has abandoned Morricone's score and has infused the story of Tano's youth with music in haunting Sicilian modes to accompany Tano's tragedy as it unfolds in the haunted Sicilian landscape.

It is not that "La Piovra" 8 is without violence, as it certainly delivers in that department, and Luca Zingaretti plays the baddie-of-baddies convincingly with menacing verve. Thanks to Mr Zingaretti's performance, in fact, as well as a tight script, the story is riveting. As a 'prequel' to the later Tano episodes, which are very strong due to Remo Girone's interpretation, this film--with its theme of blood-begets-blood--works.

Be warned, though, "La Piovra" 8 is very Sicilian in mood. In fact, it is reminiscent of "Montalbano," but without the sense of humour.

The Vanishing of Pató is absolutely delightful, and very Italian/Sicilian.

Not a conventional mystery, by any means, this period film, which is laced with wry, quirky wit, relates the 'history' of fictional Montelusa/Vigata during the Risorgimento, and the enforced co-operation between a crusty Sicilian Capitano of the Carabinieri and a meticulous Northern Commissario of the Polizia in the investigation of the disappearance of a supposedly respectable banker and a large amount of the bank's funds. The fact that the Northerner hails from Naples is a very Italian joke that depends on one's perspective in a country where North tends to condescend a bit when it comes to South [This reviewer calls Rome home].

The cinematography, which takes us on a journey to the Greek temples at Agrigento--among other Sicilian locations--is superb, as are the costumes. Watching the film, in fact, is like viewing an old daguerrotype to which tints have been added. The sight of the Carabiniere riding his black draught horse with the long curly fetlocks--it resembles a steed that the Normans must have ridden--is sheer magic. The handless corpse placed on top of the handless reclining giant Greek Telemon statue adds a dimension of macabre humour to the scenario, and the scenes of the local passion play set the stage, as it were, for the mystery.

The director has interpreted Andrea Camilleri's novel as a meta-theatrical trope, in which the boundaries become blurred between reality and illusion, as the two detectives unravel the mystery. One of the charms of the modern Montalbano series is a similar blurring of the boundaries between mystery, comedy, and tragedy, the difference being that in "Montalbano" the blurring is subliminal, whereas in "The Vanishing," it is deliberate, and the viewer is gradually made aware that he is watching an act of theatrical magic.

This film is for serious lovers of Italy, of Montalbano, and of the tales of Andrea Camilleri, who don't mind being taken on a whimsical journey into a fictional past, with a kernel of historical truth. They will not be disappointed.

The Young Montalbano makes us see why the girls fall for the Old Montalbano--(bullet headed, bowlegged, and utterly charming). In this delightful backstory, set in the imaginary town of Vigata on the sea (I covet his house!!!) we meet the young Commissario, who is still bowlegged and utterly charming, but has a full mop of curly hair, and is heartthrobbingly gorgeous!

The writers and directors have enhanced the plausibility of the entire story by giving us a real history to the established Montalbano series, introducing us to the younger versions of the denizens of the Questura that keeps a watchful eye on the territory between Vigata and Montelusa: Salvo Montalbano is mentored by Fazio's simpatico father; the younger Catarella is as endearingly misbegotten as the older Caterella; young Fazio, straight out of the police academy, is tack-sharp; and lady-killer Mimi Augello, with a full moustache, is full of himself.

We meet the beautiful and usually absent Livia, a perfect match for young Salvo. We also discover exactly why she is absent most of the time, as Salvo becomes consumed with investigating local petty crimes as well as spectacular murders. Their chemistry blends so well, that we can also understand why she puts up with him after so many years in the later series. We also learn the history of the estrangement between Salvo and his father; and we discover Salvo's continuing love affair with the characteristic cuisine of Sicily, and how Adellina with her succulent arranciate (rice croquettes) enters into his life.

This series has everything: intriguing mysteries; glorious settings (It is shot around Ragusa); endearing characters (every character, down to the cleaning ladies and shopkeepers, is individual rather than stereotypical), haunting Sicilian melodies, and a quirky sense of humor that is very Italian. It is full of gems that will have resonance for anyone who has lived in Italy and Sicily (e.g., special delivery letters sent from one end of Vigata that take five days to arrive at the other end of this very small town).

I have not read the books, but the series has encouraged me to do so. To me, the only drawback to buying this Italian DVD is the price, but it is definitely worth saving for!

I strongly recommend "Il Giovane Montalbano" for anyone who loves Italy--and Sicily, of course.

With all the excellent CS6 books on the market which SHOW the reader, step-by-step, as well as tell, this book, which claims that "no experience is required" [xix], simply does not cut the mustard, as it's all tell, tell, TELL.

Although the book does contain some valuable lessons on composition, design and color, its instructions are written in jargon, without defining essential terms. E.g., "Keep in mind that 8-bit images such as the example have 2[to the 8th power], or 256, possible values of luminosity from black up to white." [241] This is supposed to be a helpful suggestion in respect to histograms, but I can't say that the thought has ever occurred to me, nor will it ever again, for that matter. Most of the book's tasks are doable, but unnecessarily complicated, and I've been using Photoshop for years. I would hate to be a beginner trying to navigate this book.

Reviewed for Vine. Amazon.com

I am writing this review as a total outsider, who is intensely interested in British politics. Blame BBC's "Democracy Live" and the UK Parliament websites. I have been watching the House of Commons debates since 2009/10, but I wanted to find out more from what I read on the political pages of the newspapers (on all sides of the political spectrum, incidentally). And, after reading "Ed", I did learn a lot about Labour Party politics as well as the selection process, which had been a bit of a mystery to me previously.

Although I recognise that the account is definitely pro-Ed, and is certainly designed to promote his credibility as party leader (with 2115 in mind), I nevertheless found the narrative compelling. I enjoyed the book immensely. The journalist/authors have included photographs (including one of the two Eds looking incredibly young); they have also used copious footnotes, admitting that because of political realities, they have had to attribute many of their sources to 'private information.' If one were to find a fault with the book, it would be in the subtitle: "The Milibands", for until the last third of the book, it is all about Ed and his considerable capabilities. His brother hardly enters the narrative until the Leadership contest.

Nevertheless, with its dynamics of interfamilial rivalry, not only within Mr Miliband's actual family but also within his political 'family', "Ed" reads like the scenario for a political thriller--or a Greek tragedy.

I simply could not put it down!