I'm settling right back into my autumn routine: an afternoon in the cinema (I hadn't been for months), then the Waitrose shop on the way home. (Three cinemas within a three-minute walk of Waitrose.) Yesterday it was 45 Years, a middle-aged film by definition (Too depressing if you're in your 20s and hoping to marry. Tom Courtenay in his underpants is not a sight to inflict on the young.)
The film is about a childless couple who are planning a party for their 45th wedding anniversary when they are shaken by the discovery of the perfectly-preserved body of his ex-girlfriend, 50 years after she fell into an Alpine crevasse. I'm in two minds about this film. Charlotte Rampling's performance is simply brilliant, as her face becomes tauter as the days pass in the run-up to the party. But I couldn't quite believe in this marriage. Tom Courtenay might have been inspired by Gogglebox Giles, who is officially the most boring man in England. I know men like this ... but they're not married to Charlotte Rampling! Still, it put a spinsterly spring in my step as I left the cinema ... thank God I'm not married to that!