The recent death of the inestimable Glenda Jackson has prompted much discussion about her work in film and theatre (not to mention her political activities), much of which focuses on the diverse range and stunning impact of her stage appearances. In a retrospective which offers so much choice, John Schlesinger’s 1971 movie Sunday Bloody Sunday may be overlooked.
The film superbly evokes its time, the cusp of the 1960s/70s, and convincingly and in some cases excruciatingly presents the lives of London liberal, professional middle classes, a section of society which nowadays might be called the metropolitan elite.
Some people welcome a drift towards a cashless society, lauding the advantages of virtual transactions in which no actual money changes hands. This school of thought may underestimate the social and economic benefits of cash.
On May 7, 1945 the BBC in London interrupted its scheduled programme with a newsflash. The war in Europe was over. The following day would be a national holiday. The celebrations which swept through the country on VE-Day are well documented — the celebrating crowds, the dancing, the street parties, the bonfires, the flags and bunting, the relief and thanksgiving that the darkest hours of suffering and danger were over.
Andrea Newman, who died recently, was a British author who is best remembered for her novels which became steamy, gripping television dramas about characters whose family relationships are fraught with sexual tensions and desires.
