Christopher Plummer in GBS' Caesar and Cleopatra

Mike's Pith & Wind - Lachrymosity
Lachrymosity, the tendency to burst into tears, seems to be endemic in my age group, (a group I did not choose to be in, incidentally, and I still find myself thinking like a bloke twenty or more years my junior in many respects – that is until I stand up and have to remember where I put my specs, etc.).
This teary phenomenon is just another social hazard we deluded old bastards must endure as we wind down in preparation for our inevitable demise. Idle speculation is often as not the culprit; a young woman looking a certain way in a certain light for instance, but I’d have to say that movies are the prime cause of my leaking.
Iris, the harrowing movie (most likely) adapted from the book about the writer, Iris Murdoch, was perhaps understandable, reminding me so vividly of the last few years living with my late wife Helen.
Occasionally I’m caught by surprise, though. How about a film of a play? Wasn’t expecting that. I had my son Chris over recently and I’ve never really known what appeals to him on the telly, so I was surprised when I happened on a film of a live play on the Studio channel (132) and he seemed to respond to the actors shouting at each other.
I couldn’t make out what the play was initially. I mean, I could see that it was called Caesar and Cleopatra, and I knew vaguely that Shakespeare had written something about Cleopatra, (I only studied Hamlet at school), but the language seemed too transparent to be Shakespeare’s. I consulted the Foxtel program synopsis and... read more

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Dick's Toolbox - You can never go back
I returned from an interesting twelve days in New Zealand amazed at a country totally fixated on rugby and obsessed with how it looked on the international stage as it hosted the Rugby World Cup for the first time. Its grand moment in the fitful international spotlight meant that the minutiae of every happening were examined tediously – controversies that were obviously fabricated were dissected by apparently learned pundits with total seriousness and at great length. The behaviour of non-existent politicians in corporate boxes was discussed with the same fervour as groin strains and hamstrings. Everywhere there were footballers meeting pensioners, visiting earthquake devastated Christchurch, going back to their old schools to an extent that left Melbourne’s Grand Final seem like a momentary diversion and not a serious event.
AFL is really just a Victorian game with pan-galactic pretensions but burdened with small town jingoism is what ultimately.. read more