Apologies for the lack of posts this week. Here’s somethings I’ve been doing of an evening instead of writing stuff here:
- Listening to podcasts
- Watching football
- Going to the cinema
- Watching DVDs
- Catching up on TV shows I recorded whilst doing the above.
On Monday, I finally caught up with the podcast interview with Irvine Welsh on Unfiltered with James O’Brien which came out a couple of weeks ago. You can listen to it here (those with delicate ears should be warned it contains multiple swears):
As with pretty much every edition, it’s a fascinating listen. In it, Welsh tells the story of how, having seen Danny Boyle’s Shallow Grave, he wanted to sell the rights to Trainspotting to him, and was about to do so, when he accidentally sold it to a competitor who he thought was associated with Boyle, but wasn’t. Fortuitously for him – and for those of us who love Trainspotting the way Boyle made it and the many wonderful films he has done since – the situation was rectified.
On Tuesday, after watching the match on TV, I watched the last part of Come Home, the BBC drama starring Christopher Eccleston, an actor I really admire and who I have waxed lyrical before, here. I’ll come back to this at some point over the weekend.
And so it was on Wednesday that I figured the stars must be aligning and that it was time to revisit Shallow Grave, a film I’ve loved ever since I first saw it when I was really putting my degree to full use, working in a video rental store in Cardiff in the early 1990s.
In case you’ve never seen it, here’s the plot: Three flatmates (played by Eccleston, Ewan McGregor and Kerry Fox) have a spare room in their flat, which they rent out to Hugo (Keith Allen). However, shortly after he moves in, the trio find him dead with a large suitcase full of money. They agree to keep the death a secret and the money for themselves, and to bury the body in the woods.
Needless to say, it does not exactly go to plan…Hugo and the money are being tracked down by a couple of psychopathic killers (one of whom is played by a very young and almost silent Peter Mullan, he of twinkly-eyed kindly lovelorn Mum fame; here he is, I think it’s fair to say, considerably less twinkly-eyed), the police start sniffing around (cue a glorious cameo from the wonderful Ken Stott as Detective Inspector McCall) and Eccleston’s character starts to behave…let’s say erratically.
There’s some neat twists and surprises at the end which I won’t spoil for those of you who’ve never seen it, but as the final act is played out and the credits start to roll, it does end with this glorious song, which seems just perfect for a Saturday morning to me: