Thursday 13 February 2014

No, I am not going

I thought about it but I am not going to watch Philomena.

Let us start from the beginning, from Terence, the ancient Roman playwright and his most famous work Hecyra, i.e. the mother in law. In this play there is a girl who is raped by a drunk idiot. Later the girl is married to the son of the lady of the title but when he discovers that she is pregnant from the rape, he sends her back to her parents. Happy ending: it turns out that the idiot who raped the girl was none other than her future husband, so he can take her back and live happily ever after. The lucky girl's name was Filumena.

Then there was Eduardo de Filippo. He also wrote about some Filumena. A strong and pragmatic lady, former prostitute who wants to marry one of her ex clients from whom she had a child and with whom she lived most of her life. He is a conventional, selfish and clueless idiot but he is wealthy and she needs him to take care of all her three sons and not just the one she had from him. Since she does not reveal which one is the son, he reluctantly accepts the deal.

And finally came Philomena the movie, this Irish lady who had a son when she was very young. The boy was taken away from her and she spends most of the film going around the world looking for him.

So, whoever gets this name seems to be a single mother, to get a lot of crap from life and love a bunch of useless men.

I think I will be waiting for a movie where Philomena looks like this, speaks 15 languages, is black belt in judo and aircraft pilot and travels the world killing bastards until she is promoted head of the CIA. Or pope. Or dies. Still have to make up my mind.

Tuesday 11 February 2014

Brianza my love

Oh yes, I almost forgot.

In one of my wherabouts, I have been to Brianza and visited Monza, including the (desert) F1 circuit where information is provided bilingually - or almost.

It was a pleasant stay all in all, done bits of targeted shopping in the main street (did not find out if there was another one though) and, most of all,  survived a 'challenging' cuisine - successfully managing to avoid cassöla for myself and for our muslim observant colleague who had not quite caught the main ingredients of the typical dish.