June 24th, 2010

A Phantom Cuckoo

There was a cuckoo in my dream. It had let itself into the back bedroom- and was sitting on a mantlepiece that doesn't exist and its plumage was greeny-blue. Then I woke up, but the chant went on: cuck-cu-coo, cuck-cu-coo. I got up, drew aside the blinds and a couple of doves who had been having a conversation in the gutter above the bedroom window took off and made themselves scarce. 

Lennon Naked

Lennon Naked is yet another TV play in which the bleeding entrails of a dead entertainer are publicly exhibited for the delectation of his or her admirers. It's not a genre I respect. In the case of Lennon- who did such a good job of invading his own privacy- the exercise seems peculiarly pointless. We already know- from copious sources- what a tortured soul/selfish bastard he was. If you want to get to the heart of his parental issues just listen to The Plastic Ono Band.

Christopher Eccleston gives a bravura peformance.  Just one small thing- actually one enormous thing: Eccleston is 46- and he is playing Lennon between the ages of 24 and 31.  John in this era was fresh-faced and plump, a bit of a cheeky chappie.  We switch from archive glimpses of him as he really was to this raddled old geezer in a bad wig- less loveable mop-top than Ronnie Wood.- and it's not a smooth transition. Youth is a partial excuse for Lennon's bad behaviour- and the casting of Eccleston rules it out of court.