{ London Film Fest 2011: The Awakening. }

The Awakening
Director: Nick Murphy
Writer: Stephen Volk, Nick Murphy
Cast: Rebecca Hart, Dominic West, Imelda Staunton, Isaac Hempstead Wright
Trailer

"We might want ghosts to be true. It doesn't mean they are."

Nicky Murphy, the director of The Awakening introduced his film, and apologised in advance for not being available for Q&A after the credits. I suspect the reason he didn't stick around is because is film isn't very good.

In post-WWI Britain, Florence Cathcart (Rebecca Hall) is in the habit of debunking ghost stories. Having lost her love at war, it quickly becomes apparent that she is so focused on exposing charlatans because she wants on day to be proved wrong. Robert Mallory (Dominic West) is a History teacher at a Cumbrian boarding school which may house a ghost. He comes to Florence at the behest of the school Matron (Imelda Staunton) after a boy dies one day after a reported sighting. The school has a history of suspicious deaths, although the first one is shrouded in mystery.

( The Awakening. )

{ the voice of a kindly god. }

Meme responses to questions asked by belantana!

01. A fight to the death: giraffes or llamas?

I think llamas would win by default. Those are some frisky buggers, whereas giraffes are sort of...serene. The llamas would just go for their knees. I suspect, like myself, giraffes would just try to run away. Like, dude, what are you-- gerroff! GERROFF MEEEEE! And then it's running with a llama impaled on its leg. That is pretty much how I see that going.

Llamas are motherfuckers.

02. One Spooks character you'd've liked to see in the finale? (You can resurrect someone if necessary.)

INTERESTING QUESTION. ( spoilers for S10 )

03. If you could travel anywhere in the world tomorrow?

I am assuming the rest of this question is would you, and where would it be? I would! And it would probably be Melbourne (because I already have plans to do NYC in 2012 \o/). There places there I have a yen to see, and people I want to see. So. Melbourne.

04. Funniest LJ-related memory?

I-- ???

Actually, no, okay, this doesn't really count, but back when we both had far too much time on our hands and were on livejournal more often, wliberation and I would just...spiral off into lunacy fuelled by sleeplessness. There are posts somewhere in the archive where there's, like, 100-200 comments of us just going off on one. Good times!

05. I think you post your poem-recs elsewhere to LJ now, so, rec me the latest recworthy poem you've read? If there's a tie - a poem for a rainy Sunday morning.

I have fallen out of the habit of posting here because, yes, I do post daily on tumblr. But, this one is worth posting here today. I queued this one for Thursday (which was Gujarati New Year, hurrah!) because I love Imtiaz Dharker and the mood of her poems so often fits family events. (I'm sure I've posted This Room before, which I think is the bane of GCSE students across the country, but which I adore.)

The Blessing
by Imtiaz Dharker

The skin cracks like a pod.
There never is enough water.

Imagine the drip of it,
the small splash, echo
in a tin mug,
the voice of a kindly god.

Sometimes, the sudden rush
of fortune. The municipal pipe bursts,
silver crashes to the ground
and the flow has found
a roar of tongues. From the huts,
a congregation : every man woman
child for streets around
butts in, with pots,
brass, copper, aluminium,
plastic buckets,
frantic hands,

and naked children
screaming in the liquid sun,
their highlights polished to perfection,
flashing light,
as the blessing sings
over their small bones.