Christmas TV

 

How many times are we expected to watch Mrs bloody Doubtfire, or Crocodile bloody Dundee, or even The bloody Sound of bloody Music?

One has to presume that all TV Co's close down over Christmas, as they head-off for their villas in The Socialist Republic of Tuscany until the New Year. And no doubt, before they leave they press some Christmas button that replays all the films we've been made to endure over the decades. 

In some ways I'd almost prefer that they closed down all programming, and just left a camera pointing at Oxford Circus for the duration. It'd be more entertaining than watching some of the tripe they leave us; especially all those 'Celebrity' shows!

Of course, I could always ignore the TV, and play Scribble or Monotony, but there are times at Christmas when a really good film, or play, would be welcomed. I'm not saying that all of the films they show are rubbish, but they are usually one's we've all seen over and over.

I think the only thing we watched over the whole Christmas period (that we really enjoyed) was the Amandaland Christmas Special; and even that we watched on iPlayer!

Darling, you were wonderful!

One of the real surprises, and treats, of the Christmas period, was Kimbo's showing of an old film that I was in. He has a full-size (well almost) cinema screen, and it's just like being at The Odeon.

I must admit, my film career was short and rather insignificant; Hollywood never called!

We watched a bit of 'The Duallists' on Christmas Eve, and managed to grab this 'still' from the moving picture (hence the poor quality).

On the far left is Keith Carradine, bottom left with Champagne is Lady Magnon, peering out from behind the portly singer in the centre of the picture is the dashing officer Cro, and on the far right is Harvey Keitel. There are a few other worthies in the picture, but I can't remember their names. I had completely forgotten that Lady M and I were in this one scene together. Luckily young Kimbo has a copy of the film..... WE don't.

The Director was Ridley Scott and the Producer David Puttnam. 

I can't say it was all fun. We were filming late into the night, and early in the morning. The catering was very poor, and we spent hours in 'make-up' every day.

Would I recommend that you watch the finished product? Well, if you really have nothing better to do, and nothing else to watch, then you might enjoy it. The film is very 'brooding' in its appearance; influenced, they said, by Stanley Kubrick's film 'Barry Lynden'.

I know, I know; I haven't aged a bit darling.

OK, the story-line is a bit thin, but the superb acting (ahem) makes up for it!!!

Verdict: 4/10 (except for my scenes of course) 

 

The poor dear. Just look at that sweet face!

Here we are, just into 2026, and I already have a wonderful story for you.

Just so you know what a totally bonkers country we're living in; I offer this simple (and not uncommon) tale.

This much misunderstood 'Islamist Double Murderer', Fuad Awale, was serving a minimum of 38 years in prison, having shot and killed a couple of fellow drug dealers. Then, along with another misunderstood Islamist prisoner, he held a Prison Officer hostage and threatened to kill him unless some silly demand was met. 

As a result, Awale and his chum were then sent to a special secure unit for extra dangerous prisoners, and he was kept in Solitary Confinement.

This, of course, caused 'severe depression' to Awale, so he sued the government, claiming that his (EU) Human Rights had been compromised. Well, you would wouldn't you! 

Now, here comes the interesting bit. David Lammy, our fabulous Deputy Prime Minister, has agreed that it was horrid of those nasty prison people to separate him from his terrorist chums, and the generous Lammy has awarded him a total of £240,000 in award and costs.

The MORAL of this story must be: kill a few drug dealers, go to prison, threaten to kill a guard, then make lots of money because you're depressed...... It really makes you wonder why all those foreign criminals are so keen to get here!

 

Colour Prejudice.

The only change to my Christmas fare this year was the glaze I brushed onto the Turkey towards the end of roasting.

It may not seem particularly evident in the photo, but the bird had a lovely rich, chestnut colour finish to it, and looked very inviting.

The culinary tip appeared in a recent Sunday Times food section, and advised to brush the bird all over with Pomegranate Molasses about 15 minutes before its roasting time was over.

The result was a really inviting, rich finish to its appearance. It also gave a slight hint of sweetness to the exterior.

In future when roasting a Chicken, Duck, Turkey, or Goose, I shall do the same. It takes just a few seconds, but makes all the difference.

This may be like teaching Grandmothers to suck eggs for many, but not only was this the first time I'd bought Pomegranate Molasses, but it was also the first time I'd 'glazed' a Turkey.

You're never too old to learn. 

I rest my case Your Honour!

 

The year ahead

 

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Have you made yourself any promises for 2026? I can't remember those I made for 2025, but I probably failed to keep any.

As usual I've decided to try to lose a few pounds. Any loss of weight must be a relief for my painful back and hips.

Other than that I haven't really made any drastic resolutions. I was not as generous in 2025 as I would liked to have been, and I intend to be more so in 2026. My main charity is Médecins sans Frontières, but other things do crop up occasionally that need a bit of help; my beautiful old church in France was one such example last year.

Lady M intends to eat less meat, so I see that being a major change this year. I will, of course, need to follow her example, as I tend to be the cook. No; we are NOT becoming veggies!

In France I intend to return to vegetable growing in a very minor way. Kimbo goes more often than us, so I will get him to plant some Tomatoes in May maybe. Then in Summer, as soon as we arrive, I shall sow some Bok Choi. I believe they grow quite quickly so we should get an edible crop within our three months stay.

Otherwise, I suppose I'm too set in my ways for too much change. I can't think of much I'd like to change anyway! By my advanced age, if I haven't sorted out my priorities; I never will, and I'll stick to my old ways.

I WILL try not to get too upset by the Woke Folk, by Socialist policies, and all that is totally bonkers in our 21st C Britain. However, I see this aim failing!

Most importantly, I have several small jobs that I've been putting-off for years in France. They're nothing important, but they need to be finished, and I'm determined that they will be in 2026.

Goodbyes of 2025

There is quite a long list this year.

Jocelyn Wildenstein. Catwoman.

Wayne Osmond. One of 'The Osmonds'.

Denis Law. Footballer.

Linda Nolan. One of 'The Nolans'.

Dame Joan Plowright. Actress.

Marianne Faithful. Chanteuse, and personal acquaintance.

Brian Murphy. George of 'George and Mildred'.

Roberta Flack. Singer.

Gene Hackman. Actor.

Jack Vettriano. Scottish painter.

Eddie Jordon. Formula 1 supremo.

Barry Fantoni. Artist, writer, contributor to Private Eye.

George Foreman. Boxer.

Richard Chamberlain. Dr Kildare.

Edward Evans (Father Ted). Genius jewelry maker.

Jorge Mario Bergoglio. Pope.

Virginia Giuffre. (?)

Alan Yentob. Old school friend and top BBC TV man (above).

Loretta Swit. Margaret 'Hot Lips' Houlihan.

Brian Wilson. Beach boy.

Sandy Gall. UK News at Ten presenter.

Lord (Norman) Tebbit. IRA bombing survivor, and Tory grandee.

Connie Francis. 'Stupid Cupid' singer.

Ozzy Osbourne. British rocker.

Hulk Hogan. Wrestler.

Cleo Laine. Jazz singer.

Sylvia Young. Stage School founder.

Ray Brooks. Brighton's own actor. 'Cathy Come Home' etc.

Terence Stamp. Handsome actor.

Frank Caprio. US TV Judge.

Joe Bugner. Boxer.

Giorgio Armani. Fashionista.

HRH The Duchess of Kent. Well-loved UK royal, and presenter of Wimbledon trophies.

Ricky Hatton. 'Hitman' Boxer.

Robert Redford. 'The Sundance Kid'.

Dickie Bird. Cricket's most famous umpire.

Claudia Cardinale. Italian actress.

Dame Jane Goodall. Champion of Chimps.

Dame Patricia Routledge. Mrs Bucket.

Jilly Cooper. Raunchy Writer.

Prunella Scales. a.k.a. Sybil Fawlty.

Jimmy Cliff. No more 'Rivers to Cross'.

Sir Tom Stoppard. Playwright.

Stanley Baxter. Scottish comedian.

Chris Rea. Finally, driven home for Christmas.

Brigitte Bardot. Sex kitten.

N.B. Alan Y and I were great friends at school. We first met on the train from London's Liverpool Street heading for our new upper school, we just happened to get into the same carriage. Then, from that first moment, we stuck together and looked after each other's interests. HE, of course, later became very well known in the world of TV, as I opted for the anonymity of the French countryside. Knowing that he's no longer with us is strange. I find his photo above very haunting; it takes me right back to that train journey in 1960, and I genuinely miss him. I can still see that apprehensive schoolboy look in Alan's face as we sat in that railway carriage, and he probably saw the same in mine. RIP old friend.

Bardot 1934-2025

I met Brigitte Bardot in 1966 (I think). She had just married the German industrialist Gunter Sachs (above), and must have been in London (secretly) as part of her honeymoon.

BB came into my Chelsea antique shop and looked admiringly at a few bits and pieces; one she held up and declared "Zat iz boootifool". However, she left without buying anything. The only words between us being Good morning, and Goodbye.

It goes without saying that she was an extremely beautiful woman (very much 'my type'), but that wasn't my first observation. She was accompanied by her very tanned and handsome Chauffeur. He was in full livery with jodhpurs, cap, and black leather boots. Mr Sachs was hanging around elsewhere; totally ignoring her. Had I been asked at the time who she found the more attractive, I would certainly have said the Chauffeur.

Having finished with her singing and film careers, BB became an Animal Activist. I remember that she was responsible for French electricity and telephone pylons being altered. Previously they had been hollow aluminium with holes up the length of the poles. BB had discovered that birds built nests in the holes but the nests either collapsed inside, or the baby chicks couldn't escape, and a huge number were dying. Both the EDF and France Telecom changed their designs, and countless baby birds were saved. Well done BB. 

We met all too briefly, but she left a lasting impression.

BB was an icon. She epitomised the 60's look. 

The expression 'Sex Kitten' was perfect for her. RIP.