Billed as an ‘evergreen performer’ Digance refers a lot to his age, and to that of the audience. His gentle humour and songs are delivered in a relaxed, intimate way, which makes relaxed and comfortable in his company within half a minute of his being on stage. He says he has his bus pass, and makes fun of our age worries, lifting any personal concerns into the public arena of this friendly gathering, and managing to make his audience feel affectionately towards the dreaded decline. One song is a scamper through a cornucopia of childhood memories, including every kind of sweet imaginable, and some toys and games which, to his surprise, most of those watching him tonight know too well, causing much laughter. His guitar playing is a delight, and his skills are varied, running through a variety of playing styles whilst giving each piece a ragtime feel. The music, and the humour, trips along with a laid back, quirky rhythm, and the warmth of the audience is evident. Richard Digance and his guitar playing are a winning combination. He charms us all with his inclusive approach and material, and makes it feel more than okay to be 60; he makes it feel wonderful. Life has been good. We pity the youngsters. What do they know?
Dropout Kurt arrives in town and calls up his old friend, earnest father-to-be Mark to suggest a camping trip out in the forest, away from the city. They haven’t seen each other for some time and the film suggests a desire for intimacy as well as a quest for peace. Something of a lost soul, Kurt is emotional and, at times, to be pitied. He lives outside society, in a world of new age type retreats and travels, which seem to have left him out on the margins. In contrast, Mark has a home and a pregnant partner, and tunes his car radio in to phone-ins with much loud chat about the state of society in America but he seems only half alive. They drive out of town, with the camera as passenger, which gazes out of the car window while a gorgeous soundtrack by Yo La Tengo sets a mellow mood. The use of extended silence makes me a little uneasy; it’s hard to get away from memories of Deliverance, and a sense of apprehension. In the city, the glass of the car windows insulates us...
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