Finished watching the first season of THE STRAIN, which, although it's one of Mr Del Toro's potboilers, is enough to distract me from my misery a bit.
I've really been enjoying A VERY ENGLISH SCANDAL. Hugh Grant has turnred into such a fine actor. I was impressed by him in FLORENCE FOSTER JENKINS, and it will be a crime if he doesn't bag a few gongs for his superb Jeremy Thorpe. I vaguely remember the case, and I'd always thought Thorpe extremely creepy-looking, although his politics were pretty sound, and everyone said he was immensely charming and funny, even 'handsome'. The series is really funny, too, although it doesn't seem right to be so amused by all that suffering, and poor Rinka! Norman Scott, one of the few survivors of the case, objected to his portrayal in the book on which the show is based. It must be a very weird experience for him.
Waldemar Januschak is back, with a study of art in the USA. There was the required shot of his splayed feet, this time in cowboy boots.
Haven't watched Mr Meares' turn yet, or Anthony Hopkins in KING LEAR. Will catch up with them later.
There was a fairly heavy shower this evening, but again, it's brought little relief.
All weekend, there have been concerts in the park downstairs, with lame bands and rather sparse attendance, thank heaven. Even though there aren't that many, they've been roaring and bawling so enthusuastically that it sounds like Walpurgusnacht down there. Oy!