On my way into the city, my movie ticket
tucked firmly in my purse, I turn the corner into the station street and immediately
I’m assailed by the pungent smell of a peppercorn tree. This large, old tree,
one of three, sits at the edge of the footpath in front of a small block of
flats, its branches hanging down above the heads of passers-by.
The smell of peppercorns often takes me
back to my pre-school childhood. Peppercorn trees would be the first trees I
could recognise and name. I spent most of my very first years with my city
grandparents; no trees on their small inner-suburban block, peppercorns or
otherwise.
On the farm with my country grandparents it
was different entirely. A child’s world is a small one and the peppercorn tree
which stood outside the farmhouse kitchen door seemed enormous. It provided cool shade in the summer and one
branch had a swing roped to it; occasionally I would be pushed in the swing by
somebody with a few minutes to spare. The tree also sheltered the meat safe,
not exactly a Coolgardie safe, but a close relative where meat, butter and milk
were kept in the coolest place possible. No refrigeration in the farmhouse in
those days.
Leaving the peppercorn trees and memories
of my early childhood behind, I crossed the road to the train station.
No hitches to my movie plans today;
although there was a short version of musical chairs in the back row of the
cinema when a woman with mobility issues sat where she fancied and everyone
else in the row made their own arrangements.
I thought The Children Act was a film well
worth seeing and on my rating system; I gave it a score of 8.5. Emma Thompson was excellent, the dedicated
family court judge who became the person forced to acknowledge she had failed
to deal with her personal relationships. A very moving film.
There was one jarring note at the end of the
film when the boy lay dying in the hospice; make-up could surely have made a
better choice of that terrible grey pallor which made him look like an actor in
a cheap B-grade movie.
I left the cinema, having achieved what I
first set out to do a week ago; to mark the occasion I lunched at a nearby
French-style charcuterie.
Oh well, I am glad to see you enjoyed the film when you finally made it, even if I didn't!
ReplyDeleteI'm well known for liking films that other people wouldn't cross the street to see.
ReplyDeleteAlphie