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| Was Timothy Spall snubbed just because of his (fully clad) buttocks? | Was Timothy Spall snubbed just because of his (fully clad) buttocks? |
| (3 days later) | |
| Poor Timothy Spall. His performance in Mr Turner ought to have secured him his first Oscar. It looked all set to do so too. The film stormed Cannes. He won best actor. Then things got bumpy. Spall wasn’t nominated for a Golden Globe, or an Academy Award, or even – snub of snubs – a Bafta. | Poor Timothy Spall. His performance in Mr Turner ought to have secured him his first Oscar. It looked all set to do so too. The film stormed Cannes. He won best actor. Then things got bumpy. Spall wasn’t nominated for a Golden Globe, or an Academy Award, or even – snub of snubs – a Bafta. |
| Now the insult is complete, and indignity levels have hit rock bottom. The British Board of Film Classification’s annual report reveals that the sight that prompted most complaints from the public last year was of Spall’s fully clothed arse-cheeks clenching intently as he took his psoriasis-addled housekeeper from behind. | Now the insult is complete, and indignity levels have hit rock bottom. The British Board of Film Classification’s annual report reveals that the sight that prompted most complaints from the public last year was of Spall’s fully clothed arse-cheeks clenching intently as he took his psoriasis-addled housekeeper from behind. |
| Just to reiterate: he’s wearing trousers. Thick, black breeches, not especially tight. Underwear too, you’d suppose. There’s a little thrusting, yes, but minimal wobble or detail, and no nudity. It’s a brief scene. It starts without ceremony, soundtracked by light grunting, and wraps up swiftly, any ecstasy gentle at best. It’s wholly consensual. In fact, it probably represents something of a life highlight for poor old Hannah the skivvy, she of the big limp, bad skin and unhappy crush. | |
| And yet Spall’s shuddering buttocks proved, in the end, just too much for the 19 people who wrote to the BBFC to say they shouldn’t have featured in a film rated 12A. Other movies released last year with the same certificate include Pompeii, Godzilla, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, Hercules, Exodus, the final Hobbit and the penultimate Hunger Games, all of which feature epic amounts of death and destruction – mostly in 3D, to make them just that little bit more real. | And yet Spall’s shuddering buttocks proved, in the end, just too much for the 19 people who wrote to the BBFC to say they shouldn’t have featured in a film rated 12A. Other movies released last year with the same certificate include Pompeii, Godzilla, Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, Hercules, Exodus, the final Hobbit and the penultimate Hunger Games, all of which feature epic amounts of death and destruction – mostly in 3D, to make them just that little bit more real. |
| Spall handled his awards setbacks with great grace and humour. Let’s hope he can also put this bum’s rush behind him. | Spall handled his awards setbacks with great grace and humour. Let’s hope he can also put this bum’s rush behind him. |
| The plug junkie’s lament | The plug junkie’s lament |
| Warwickshire in the Middle Ages was a tough place for the poor, the free-spirited and the sporty. Recently unearthed civic documents suggest fines for playing bowls or tennis, for popping to the pub if you hadn’t been to church, and for trying to sell shoes before 1pm. Adulterous women were forced to sit backwards on a ram and hold its tail as they recited a little ditty, in court. Such laws – and logistically challenging punishments – were doubtless common across the land. | Warwickshire in the Middle Ages was a tough place for the poor, the free-spirited and the sporty. Recently unearthed civic documents suggest fines for playing bowls or tennis, for popping to the pub if you hadn’t been to church, and for trying to sell shoes before 1pm. Adulterous women were forced to sit backwards on a ram and hold its tail as they recited a little ditty, in court. Such laws – and logistically challenging punishments – were doubtless common across the land. |
| Five hundred years from now, perhaps the idea that you could be arrested for “abstracting electricity” for charging your iPhone in a socket generally reserved for cleaners on a London Overground train will seem just as medieval. Hopefully technology will soon nullify the need to commit such a crime. We will no longer be beholden to energy-gobbling batteries and dodgy USB leads. I can’t wait for the day I don’t have to anxiously scout every carriage, cafe or corridor for spare sockets which could be commandeered. Being a plug junkie isn’t much fun. | Five hundred years from now, perhaps the idea that you could be arrested for “abstracting electricity” for charging your iPhone in a socket generally reserved for cleaners on a London Overground train will seem just as medieval. Hopefully technology will soon nullify the need to commit such a crime. We will no longer be beholden to energy-gobbling batteries and dodgy USB leads. I can’t wait for the day I don’t have to anxiously scout every carriage, cafe or corridor for spare sockets which could be commandeered. Being a plug junkie isn’t much fun. |
| Murder, he redecorated | Murder, he redecorated |
| In the new film True Story, out on Friday, Jonah Hill plays a journalist, formerly of the New York Times. He investigates the quadruple murder of which a man with whom he’s been corresponding is accused. To do this, he employs the technique common to all big-screen reporters and detectives: he pins the evidence round his living room. His house therefore becomes both a representation of his possibly troubling immersion in the case and a handy visual reminder for the audience of the crime’s constituent parts. | In the new film True Story, out on Friday, Jonah Hill plays a journalist, formerly of the New York Times. He investigates the quadruple murder of which a man with whom he’s been corresponding is accused. To do this, he employs the technique common to all big-screen reporters and detectives: he pins the evidence round his living room. His house therefore becomes both a representation of his possibly troubling immersion in the case and a handy visual reminder for the audience of the crime’s constituent parts. |
| Hill’s wallpaper goes big on graphic letters and dismaying drawings sent by the presumed killer; his movie peers often also add grisly photos, newspaper clippings and local area maps, sometimes accessorised with pins and bits of string. Empty scotch bottles, strewn divorce papers and a carpet of fag butts complete the look. Does any actual detective do this? Even if confidentiality clauses aren’t being breached, I can’t imagine it’s the best way to store key clues. And when the case is done and dusted, the redecorating bills must be immense. | Hill’s wallpaper goes big on graphic letters and dismaying drawings sent by the presumed killer; his movie peers often also add grisly photos, newspaper clippings and local area maps, sometimes accessorised with pins and bits of string. Empty scotch bottles, strewn divorce papers and a carpet of fag butts complete the look. Does any actual detective do this? Even if confidentiality clauses aren’t being breached, I can’t imagine it’s the best way to store key clues. And when the case is done and dusted, the redecorating bills must be immense. |
| @catherineshoard | @catherineshoard |
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