Oxford life. Thirtysomething challenges. Music leanings. Anything really.

Saturday, August 27, 2005

Feelings of inadequacy

Last night we watched The Aviator. Or, we watched most of it. Liz gave up with an hour to go, and I bailed out slightly nearer the end, only to watch the end this morning.

I've read plenty of reviews of this film, and once more, I have a feeling of inadequacy in the face of literary review. It's the same with books, films, theatre and music. Where I might find a slice of the culture cake appalling, why do the journos find it amazing?

Is it because I am fundamentally stupid and missing the point? A book can be described as having multiple layers, immense depth, and characterisation that is the most accurate. And yet, I may have thought it was a pile of poo.

I like to think I am intelligent, but the number of times I disagree with a review is worrying. It's the same at my book group: last month a book I found incredible was dismissed as light-weight tosh.

Most Aviator reviews are pretty glowing, but in this case, I stand firm. I think it's a case of the Emperor's clothes. There's no way this was a good film. Three hours of lavishly produced (read: so polished you can't the substance through the shine), self-indulgent rubbish with an entirely unsympathetic lead character.

And the ending. Three hours of drudgery just to finish with someone yabbering in a toilet?

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