Just For Lookin' Thru

Jack Nicholson, Leonardo di Caprio and Matt Damon star in this gripping thriller. Nicholson is an Irish mafia crime boss controlling Matt Damon as his plant in the State Troopers, and Leonardo di Caprio plays the undercover policeman placed inside the Irish mafia, but without full and legal membership of the police, and without protection. It's a tense, edgy drama, and becomes a race against time for each agent to unmask the other before being unmasked himself. It is also very violent. Matt Damon is successful and smooth, and seems in control all the way through while Leonardo di Caprio is alone, at risk, and playing a dangerous game. The acting is superb, and the ending clever and surprising; Jack Nicholson is menacing and strong, without any of his frequent maniacal eccentricities; di Caprio is impressive and on fine form, while Matt Damon recaptures some of the uncomfortable, chilling characteristics he used in The Talented Mr Ripley. It's an edge of the seat experience...

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...

One shouldn’t complain. It’s paid work. £6 per hour is better than £0 per hour and no work. Even so. Following the usual race to gather together the list of viewings for the day, the sets of keys, the names of viewers, and rapid briefing on directions to the property I hare off again to my favourite place to meet two sets of people. I arrive to find a Volvo estate blocking the parking area for two cars; there is nowhere to go for the first people, or for me. The Volvo belongs to the neighbour who parks it in the empty property as a burglar deterrent and he hasn’t been told we are coming out here today. To save him trouble I say to leave it there and I park in his place. This is a mistake. What seems the easiest solution is often a mistake. The viewers squeeze through the tiny lane, inching between the old stone walls, in an enormous Jaguar, and leave it in the lane. We go ahead with inspection of the property. To my disappointment the owner has still not had the steps and path pressu...

Billed as a comedy, but a bit of a black one, this film is quirky and interesting. Emma Thompson is the writer who is controlling Will Ferrell's destiny by what she writes, and he has to race to reach her and persuade her to stop writing his death as the climax. For a tragedy, he has to die of course, but this is a comedy. Will Ferrell remains deadpan throughout, only breaking into a slight smile once or twice. It's fun as a writer's film, playing with the idea of storylines and outcomes, and Dustin Hoffman plays the Professor of English who helps to clarify the plot devices and explain how Emma Thompson's narrator is pulling the strings. Described as a playful and eccentric postmodern movie, it is thoroughly enjoyable to people who love story, or have studied English; we can congratulate ourselves on recognising familiar themes, but will it please a wider audience? Maybe there are enough English students out there. It's a clever plot, and well done.

A full day's viewings thank heaven, and out of the office where the phone never stops. I start with an open house at the seaside house with Mundic foundations so I am doomed to an hour in the stinking damp and dirt with the great hole cut in the floor exposing the true horror. It occurs to me that I could market this as an ideal opportunity to create a subterranean indoor pond with koi carp as a feature. With strengthened glass, this could be a striking feature of the hallway, and most fitting for a house with breathtaking sea views. Five parties come to look round and most are faint hearted but two are more game, and I tell them their minimum spend will be £40,000 to secure the foundations with top grade concrete, and to add a kitchen extension. After that, the expense will all be cosmetic and optional. The brave will make money here, but it's a big project. My next call is to my favourite property and the couple meet me outside and annoy me instantly. They park in someone e...

I loved this beautifully paced, insightful and wise Russian tale about the arrogance and disrespect of youth towards the older generation, contrasted with the dignity, good manners, liberalism and respect of the country estate ‘little aristocrats’. Turgenev writes with great sensitivity, evoking the profound social change and conveying characters’ deep emotion without ever stating it; such understated writing and unhurried pace comforts and absorbs. He leaves the reader to infer what goes unsaid and, in this short novel, puts across a gently ironic overview of the social structure of the time; the liberal enlightened landowners are caught between trying, on the one hand, to give ‘their’ peasants autonomy, while on the other hand, they have the peasants mocking them and not seeming to want responsibility for their own living. The blurring of the old boundaries and systems is disquieting to everyone. He does kill off the dangerous young student scientist nihilist, who is a threat to ever...

Inadvertently get off to a very unprofessional start because I get sidetracked by Tracey who is being quite rude, and she rather brings out the worst in me, so our talk becomes absolutely filthy, with hideous bursts of maniacal female laughter shrieking out in the office, at which point Andy appears in the doorway looking a bit tense and says he will get the keys for me for my 10 o’ clock appointment. I am abashed. I apologize and say I lost track of time, to which he replies, tensely I feel, 'Well, you have to have a laugh at work.' Yes, I say, but not so that I forget why I am there. Awful. The poor man’s paying me to behave like a fishwife. I must make sure I don’t sit next to Tracey at the Christmas dinner because I will certainly disgrace myself again. I have only three appointments; the first is at a neglected 1930s house which, strangely, for all its stink of damp and its pitiable state of repair, I absolutely love. The ceilings are high, the rooms spacious, and it is ...

It's quiet now. The crazy pre-Christmas house-buying spree has ended. The phone hardly rings. We drink coffee and eat chocolate to pass the time. I get a call from a desperate purchaser whose own sale has fallen through; their buyer has pulled out, causing them to lose the house they were going for. What can I say? It's sad, and annoying, but there's nothing to be done. People always get angry with estate agents for this sort of mishap, or blame the solicitors, yet its always some fickle punter who either backs out of a sale or withdraws their property from the market. Everyone wants to shoot the messenger. This woman on the phone is saying they have found another purchaser and are prepared to sell at a lower price in order to continue with the purchase that had to be stopped, providing the seller will agree to continue at the same price he agreed two months ago. There's the rub. The owner has put the place back on the market for another £15,000, part of which he feel...

We’re seated around four sides of a square stage, set up as a wood planked drawing room, and only two feet above the floor of the hall. In the front row we are so close to the actors we could reach out and touch them, and this intimacy creates a wonderful sense of sharing the room with them, listening and observing this Russian family. There is no need for projection, and the actors’ and voices are set at normal speech level which adds to the atmosphere of inclusion. This play is deeply ironic, and a masterful observation of human emotion and character. The actors are staggeringly well-rehearsed, and their facial expressions are natural throughout. Beecham has directed this play in such a way as to make the doctor likeable, Michel quite melodramatic, and Natalya more hysterical than I pictured from my reading of the paper text. There is more spirit on show. There is much laughter from the audience at the irony, even, most inappropriately when it is tragic, as much of it is. On paper, t...

An intriguing young woman escapes from post-Revolutionary France without money or assistance. Nameless, she has to rely on herself or charity. Another lengthy novel from Burney, to try a modern reader, but illuminating with regard to the overwhelming importance of name and connections – not personal worth, similar in that regard to Cecilia. The unnamed heroine frustrates because she does not defend herself, and is pursued from pillar to post, and because she self-sacrifices again and again. She repels Harleigh, who is surely her destined mate. Initially this is because she gave her word, in honour, to prevent the dramatic suicide of another woman, Elinor, who is in love with him, that she would not marry Harleigh. Elinor is a bizarre and fascinating character, melodramatic and constantly seeking death, inspired by what she perceives as the glorious deaths during and after the French Revolution, so Ellis (as our heroine comes to be called) seems really wet in comparison to the impassion...

There are about twenty members of this really good band, who deliver with panache all the swing standards, so much loved by all age groups. There’s a new, growing audience of 20 year olds who are really getting into swing, and learning to dance, encouraged by ‘Strictly Come Dancing’. How wonderful for them to have discovered the romance of dance. Could this mean the next generation will be unafraid to act like women again, to dance, be escorted home, and treated with respect (we can all be like Bette Davis et al) ie intelligent and confident, whilst wearing lovely clothes and perfume. This swing sound and atmosphere wouldn’t encourage ladettes to swill down pints, show their bottoms in public, bare their breasts and shout, swear, or throw up in the street, before dragging some Chlamydia-ridden bloke to give them a quick shag up against the dustbins round the back of the nightclub. Maybe I’m just old-fashioned.

That’s more like it. Out and about in the car, rushing from one property to another. I’m out at the old barn conversion again and my first punter seems keen. She’s delighted to find a field at the back where she can exercise her dogs and fly her falcons. She says the owl doesn’t need much exercise. I suppose not, as they only go out hunting for food and, if she’s providing that, monsieur owl can just perch and decorate the living room. She stays so long I think she’s moved in but, she still wants to think about it, because she was bumped into her last offer, only to find there was woodworm and a £30,000 bill to sort it out. Not our agents of course. Seeing her desire for the property makes me want it even though I know I need three bedrooms, although it really appeals to me because I love the garden and the curtains. Not reason enough. Later I have to meet my old boss, the consultant paediatrician, who is considering investing in a buy-to-let property. I have seen him once since I wa...

Wow! This Bond film is intelligent and has real integrity. Daniel Craig is spot on as Bond, and gets a believable character across on screen, even – dare I say it – overtaking Connery, the ultimate Bond. He fits the role perfectly, and is tough and tender, the perfect combination for manhood... Where Craig has the advantage is in an updated, well-written script by Purvis and Wade, incorporating current themes of terrorism and attempted spy poisoning. The bad guy, Le Chiffre, is strange without being ludicrous, and the screenplay does without the usual schoolboy humour, and without the naughty schoolboy antics with Q, who does not appear at all in this film. Miss Moneypenny is also absent. She is unnecessary because this Bond gets to develop a real emotional response to a believable woman, with whom he has a meaningful relationship. Bond does not have to contend with ridiculous gadgets, like exploding pens and wristwatches, yes I know they are really used by the secret service,...

I love live music. It’s that breadbasket-as-the-bass drum, pounding in the chest thrill. Okay, they’re a bit loud, but it’s fun. For a moment there I came over a bit nostalgic, with the whole 70’s soft California rock scenario - their lead guitarist with long hair, a clipped beard, and wearing flared jeans. This is unfortunately accompanied by an unwelcome emotional response – wistful and, oh dear, a bit resentful. I actually heard the thought, ‘when anything felt possible.’ Teenagers do think this, and I suppose it’s true, if circumstances are favourable. At times like that, I feel like I’m in the Indiana Jones film where he seeks the Holy Grail, and the old knight says to the first guy, “You chose poorly.” It’s that simple. There’s still time to have some fun though, just not in a spring fresh body – and not with the wide eyes of innocence. Dear old Eagles, with their romantic ballads and coupledom songs, sweet. Great to hear Peaceful Easy Feeling, Take It to the Limit, One of Those ...

Only three appointments yesterday, two at the same house, where the dear, 80 year-old man has lost his wife recently. He sees her everywhere in the house and it makes him more sad. One of the interested parties is a man who is about my age, and I don’t see many of them. I realize I am flirting with him but I hadn’t meant to; it’s simply so refreshing not to be hit on by 60 year olds that I am in the faintly ridiculous position of spotting a novelty and toying with it. The rest of the day is spent in the office and this is when I confirm that I am ill suited to this work. I’m really in my element, driving about all day, meeting and greeting, chat and politeness, but, this morning, in the office, knowing nothing of what has gone on throughout the week, I flounder. When I get back to the office, it is so quiet that the others have locked up and gone home. The desk I use when one of the other women is not there is really mucky, as is the phone etc. I think about cleaning it up but realize ...

Chicken Shack are the support act, a fairly noisy band, but pleasing. They run over time due to the prolonged, nauseating ad libbing of StanWebb in between every number, as he drones on ad infinitum, not only cringingly unfunny, but odious and offensive too. Amazingly, people laugh when he says ‘fucking’ and again when he defiantly holds up a pint of beer. What a naughty boy, he’s managed to get a glass past the vigilant staff at the Hall for Cornwall in Truro. I must be hallucinating; I thought he was adult; he looks as though he was born around 1940. He comes out into the audience during their encore, which is deeply disturbing, as he gives off a really nasty vibe. I hide behind other people. There’s no way I want this creep anywhere near me. He tells us he’s had four wives. Well, there must be four crazy women then. I am alarmed to see a very attractive young woman go up to him, hug him, rub her hand all over his whale-like stomach, press her little face into his shoulder, hug him a...

Rattigan’s post-war drama highlights the voracious nature of woman’s passion, and his use of language brilliantly conveys the unsaid, which lies behind the politesse of formal speech. Hester’s desire for Freddie has no reason to it, other than itself, the force of her passion is an ind in itself, serving no purpose than to blaze and consume. Freddie’s desire for Hester does not come across; he is merely portrayed as a shallow and inconsequential fellow who has no purpose in his life since the end of the war. Lost in peacetime he has turned to drink and playing golf as escape mechanisms for his inability to ‘live’. As a result, his character fails to engage. In strong comparison, Hester’s veers from ladylike self-control to almost demented frenzy and back again. Her physical pain comes close to the primitive, and the conflict between the primitive and the civilized is wonderfully captured. There are times when her focus on the need for Freddie in order to be able to live seems like weak...

Sadly Georgie Fame's not in the line up this evening, but it includes Andy Fairweather Low, Terry Taylor and Geraint Wilkins. It is very disconcerting that, when Bill walks on stage I think it's my old Auntie Doris, little stick legs and big hair. It’s a great mix of Cajun, blues, rhythm and blues, and numbers written by Gene Vincent, Chuck Berry and Ray Charles. There are a couple of ballads and a few belted soul songs. The stage is full, with the four guitarists, drummer, keyboard player, two saxophonists, plus two black singers separately giving us Soul Man and I Put a Spell On You. It’s a lively set, and a good-natured atmosphere on stage, with Bill Wyman quietly smiling as he plays his bass. Andy Fairweather Low’s voice blends well with the other singers, and is ideally suited to the Cajun numbers. Geraint Wilkins from Wales sings rich, deep and low, serious blues. I didn’t stump up £5 for a programme so I can’t get all the names but the black singer, the soul diva, is Fel...

The inconvenient truth is that this film that “every man, woman and child in this country should see” is only on at Falmouth Arts Centre for two nights, and is sold out. Former vice-President of the USA and long time environmental campaigner, Al Gore, has had over 1,000 of his lectures made into a film. Guggenheim’s riveting activist documentary which is anticipated to raise the public’s awareness of climate change is perfectly timed to coincide with heightened motivation of the public, following many years of ill-attended-to conservationist rhetoric. Just as we finally begin to see people taking the scientists seriously, local cinemas fail to understand the importance of this film. Truro isn’t showing it at all, and Falmouth has only given it two screenings. Yah boo sucks. Find it if you can.

First up, a 9.30 appointment out in the sticks. I have 15 minutes to find eight sets of property details for the day’s viewings, get directions to eight properties, locate eight sets of keys, get the names of the people I’m meeting, check which properties will have the owners present or not, and their names, so I am prepared for them, and to make introductions. I don’t have time to read any of the details, or to get any history as to the usual questions: How long has the property been on the market - How soon will the owners want to be moving - Is it a probate sale. I hare off, feeling very unprofessional because I don’t have the necessary information to be able to respond to any questions. I do have the name of the owner, the names of the viewers, but I know this place has fields as part of the deal, a right of way down a track to the village pub, and unhappily, the owner is going to be in, always inhibiting. I meet Dr and Mrs and their delightful toddlers who are waiting for me in th...