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Glorious 39

Sometimes we fail to do even the simplest due diligence. Maybe we are seduced by the idea, or by an expectation. And in the case of Romola Garai, it isn’t just her beauty (which is all her own though her lips remind me of Drew Barrymore while in profile her dimple is Laura Linney’s) but her performances in the first few episodes of “The Hour” which have been excellent. And then there was the rest of the cast, from Billy Nighy—who apparently must appear in every English film—to Julie Christie—how stunningly beautiful she was—to Jeremy Notham and then, of course, we had the subject, my favorite, a period piece at the outset of WW II. So it wasn’t hard for Ruth to convince me and Mikey to watch “Glorious 39” rather than stay with the disappointing Rams-Giants Monday night game.
The movie, almost from the outset, seemed to make no sense. But as we watched on, and as the tension mounted, we concluded it indeed made no sense at all to the point that we started to wonder whether any of the actors had read the whole script. By the end, we decided that not even the script writer had read it.
In a way this gives me hope—I can do better, oh so much better—and makes me despair: it isn’t quality that counts it is. . .what?

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