Concert: U2 #4 & Films: Past Lives, Moonlight, Spielberg, The Great Escaper, Calendar Girls, & The Turning

Wednesday was my fourth and last (for this year) U2 concert. Now, it didn't last all day, of course - and I hadn't yet visited New York, New York! So, with that being my last full day, I decided to do just that. En route, mind, I could have done without the people in bloodstained t-shirts, asking for support for Israel..

Once I saw there was a connecting bridge to the Excalibur, I trotted over there too, hoping for a medieval theme - there isn't. Apart from mention of a "Tournament of Kings", there isn't a thing medieval about the place - not counting the kitch decor. I did a circuit of the place, then exited quickly, back to New York, New York - which is much more interesting, with its reconstruction of Greenwich Village:

I soon passed Nine Fine Irishmen, the pub I'd seen advertised on my first night. And well.. there were other eateries, but frankly, I was intrigued by this one. Hallelujah, affordable too - I had no trouble getting a table. Decor - what I'd call typical for, say, a Dublin pub. Apparently, they also do live music - not in the middle of the day, obviously. Now, the starters were ridiculously expensive - so I went straight to a shepherds pie and a glass of wine (also affordable). 

The pie, I'd have to say, was very authentic - topped with lovely, buttery mash, and with a tasty filling, albeit a bit salty. I gobbled it down - temperatures were a bit lower that day anyway (still hot by my standards), so I had more energy and more appetite. They served me a spoon to eat it with - apparently, that's how they do it in the States! I was tempted by a Guinness and chocolate cake dessert - I knew it'd be too heavy, but I did manage it. Had to use a spoon that time, it was all she left me! And when she asked whether I'd like another wine, why, I just had to agree.. I moved back to my hotel quite slowly, for a wee nap.

Headed out, rather groggily, for the concert. En route, I got chatting to a very nice gent who'd driven all the way from Seattle for this! I have to say, that was a feature of the whole trip - I met so many friendly folks. Very good advertisement for America. Anyway, it turned out they finally (on the sixth night) fixed the queueing system - they now require you to enter via Sands Avenue, and the GA queue is quite separate from the seated queue. That was my experience, at least!

I led my companion up most of the way into the Sphere, up to my level - he was a level further up, so left me at that point. Whereupon I used almost all my remaining credit on that damned prepaid debit card - on water, of course. And took my seat - about exactly where I'd sat the first night, but one level up:

Terrific reviews of all shows on the U2 website, BTW..

Lovely to see old U2 t-shirts knocking around:

I have to say, for all that I enjoyed the shows, I got the impression that Bono was also enjoying them more and more each night. He was certainly in flirtatious form that night - for Tryin' to Throw Your Arms Around the World, where they normally produce a balloon that some lucky girl from the audience gets to fly in, none was in evidence. Bono initially tried to tell us it was because he had a cough, which he didn't want to pass on - before 'fessing up that the balloon "broke". Because he, like, didn't want to be fibbing..

On a more serious note, at the point in the show where he might have said something about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, which he'd introduced on Sunday - he paused. And said that he could say something, but it would break the hearts of every single person there. So he just asked us to take a moment out, to send good wishes to - whomever we thought needed them..

You know, I'd go to every single one of these if it were feasible. Every night tells a new story, every night is a progression. I only have four dots of the puzzle, and I'm lucky to have that much. Anyway, I resignedly headed back to the hotel that night - my last in Vegas. Much of which was spent trying to check in for my flight - I'm very glad I did, rather than leaving it for the next day! It took hours.. I discovered that I'd have to pay for a checked bag, which I hadn't had to do on the way out: and that was just the start. The app wouldn't take a non-US card, directed me to the website. Which wouldn't take my first card, so I had to use another. I ask you.. then it took a while to download my second boarding pass. Is anything easy in this world?!

Of course, at that point, I didn't have time to blog. Next morning, I was up bright and early - with not enough sleep, but I had to call my mother at 9am, and had discovered - after searching for it, because they don't make it obvious - that you have to check out by 10 am. And I had to pack. So it was all a bit hectic! Managed it though - even though I had to squeeze into the lift beside a luggage cart and lots of other people! And I'd had to endure the screaming of the woman next door again. As I checked out, the receptionist asked how my stay had been - I said, "Fine, apart from the noise", to which she gave the most uninterested response imaginable, still with the same smile and tone of voice. Do they train in that?

I asked her for a taxi to the airport, and she directed me to a desk on the other side of the lobby. Where they directed me to a QR code, displayed on an adjacent desk. Unfortunately, the WiFi was (again) playing up, but I managed to put in a request for a cab. Unfortunately again, they were to send updates to my phone - but the esim I was using doesn't have a number I can give people, so I couldn't get calls or messages! After 15 minutes, I consulted someone moving bags - who told me that a wait of up to 30 minutes was quite normal. But that I'd better wait outside, because they don't come looking. So I did - and lo, almost 30 minutes after booking, a taxi rolled up and the driver asked for me. Hallelujah, and we had quite a nice chat during the drive, extended because of all the roadworks.

At the airport, I printed my hard-won baggage tag - only to have someone come and tell me I'd have to get someone to put that on for me. (Not in Heathrow!) Then I could hardly understand what he was saying. Then I had to take off my shoes - along with everyone else - going through security: just as well I didn't have holes in my socks! Then my bag had to have a "secondary check".. but all was good, and I still had time to kill before boarding. With few seats at the gate, I sat on the chair of a slot machine - the closest I'd got to one during the whole trip! Whereupon the machine kindly reminded me that seating was reserved for players.. Reasoning that the machine could do little about it, I stayed where I was.

On the flight, I discovered that - yay - Past Lives was among the film options, which I'd wanted to see on the outbound flight, but it wasn't available. So I watched that first. It's the story of two Koreans, a man and a woman, who are very close as children, but are separated when her family emigrates to the States. We get snapshots of them reconnecting online, years later - but they lose touch again. The final setting is when they meet IRL for the first time in decades, in New York, where she now lives with her husband. So, how's that gonna go..?

It's slow - and I was tired, and actually paused it and went to sleep for an hour and a half or so. It's not like they were giving out any food or drink for free on this first, domestic, flight anyway. I did finish it when I woke - and it's really good. A slow burner, with a completely devastating final scene, and an enduring theme of the concept of destiny..

After that, I had time to watch Moonlight. Similar to Past Lives in its sparse dialogue, it's nonetheless very different, covering the story of the growing up of a young black man (Naomie Harris plays his mother). Quite brutal in parts, its lead character actually has quite a sensitive nature, and it's interesting to see how he develops.

And so to change planes in Newark. Now, I knew that the gate information includes the terminal number - so, when I read "35A" on my boarding pass (and given my previous experience of transferring to Terminal A), I hopped on the shuttle bus. It was, ahem, just as I arrived at Terminal A - all the way across the airport - that I realised I'd been reading the seat number instead of the gate number - my gate was actually C83, two gates away from where I'd come in, shortly before! (In my defence, it was now late at night, and I hadn't eaten much.) So I had to explain to the driver that I'd made a mistake, and needed to go back where I'd come from. Where, happily, I was still in time for my flight, and also had a chance to go to the toilet. Not to get food though - there were no vending machines, and the only place that served snacks had closed..

At least I knew they'd serve free food on this one. Not much, mind, as someone later remarked as we waited for our bags.. Anyway, I knew I needed to try and sleep, but I didn't want to miss my meal, so I started to watch Spielberg. A documentary about Stephen Spielberg, this makes a fascinating companion piece to The Fabelmans, a fictionalised account of how he got into filmmaking. It's great to see events in that film confirmed in this - and we also get interviews with his parents, his sisters, and a whole host of celebrities, of course: directors, actors.. so many people who've known him. There's little point in listing them all, he's known so many. It's also amazing to have all the films he's made listed - and I was surprised to learn some he's made, such as Duel, which I saw on tv, but never knew was his! Really great viewing - and what with it being so long, and me trying to sleep for bits: not to mention the incessant announcements whenever the seatbelt light came on: that was all I got seen on that flight. Naturally, by the time I got back to my mother's yesterday, I was too tired to blog.

Best film offering for today was The Great Escaper, the true story of a WWII veteran (Michael Caine) who escapes his care home to attend the 70th anniversary of the D-Day landings. Glenda Jackson plays his wife. Unfortunately, was only playing at a time I could manage in Ennis - well, needs must.. As I say, it's not a long drive from there to Limerick, to shop!

So I took myself off, and was half of an audience of two. So, I see the care home wasn't really keeping him hostage - "The Great Escaper" was just a nickname the press came up with. What really happened was, he was too late to join an official organisation's trip. His wife then encouraged him to go on his own, and off he went - it's just that neither of them told anyone!

It's actually a real weepie - their memories of their youth, shown in flashbacks, are really moving, and the war footage is terrifying. It's a bittersweet tale, as on his odyssey, he meets many people more damaged than himself. The press appears as a nuisance - and at the end (spoiler), we find out that he died six months after these events, his wife a week later. Oh dear.. well, it is a good film. Just not very cheery.

Back at my mother's this evening, what with Ireland's disappointing defeat in the rugby, we turned off the rugby coverage at that point, and turned over to Calendar Girls, showing on TG4. Another true story, this, about a WI in Yorkshire that decided to raise funds for fighting cancer by the imaginative means of publishing a calendar: for which they would pose nude. Stars Helen Mirren, Julie Walters, Penelope Wilton, Ciarán Hinds (as Helen Mirren's husband), and Jay Leno (who appears as himself, when they head to the States for an interview, their story having gone international). An interesting yarn, but not that engaging, if I'm honest..

The late film was a horror, so I felt compelled to watch it! The Turning is a remake of The Turn of the Screw, and features, like the original, a young woman who comes to a grand, isolated house to act as governess to two odd children. As the story progresses, she becomes convinced that the place is haunted by the malevolent ghost of someone who used to live there. However, there is an ambiguity, in that we're not sure whether the whole thing is a figment of her imagination..

In this version, they play up that aspect, portraying her mother (Joely Richardson, the fourth! member of her family to have starred in an adaptation of this story) as insane, and locked in an asylum. Now, I don't really think it deserves its low rating on IMDB - certainly, it's creepily shot. The older boy is really obnoxious, but as his character is required to have been recently expelled from boarding school, setting the film in the present day does require a higher level of obnoxiousness than was in the original. The ending is messy though, removing all the ambiguity as it does and kind of battering us over the head with its conclusion. Ah well.. endings are difficult.

Back to London tomorrow. On Monday, thinking film - what's coming up top is 20 Days in Mariupol, a documentary about a team of Ukrainian journalists that arrived in Mariupol just before the invasion, and spent the next 20 days shooting footage, and trying to get it out. Showing, as ever, in the excellent Curzon Bloomsbury - not selling out, so I won't book in advance, I'll try to get a free ticket in person. I am entitled to one, but it's proving hard to book a free ticket on the website!

On Tuesday, headed back with Laurence Summers and the 45+ Not Grumpy Old Londoners, yay! I wasn't expecting to see them so soon again - but he seems to have another new one, Georgian London. Advertised twice with the group, for some reason.. never mind, it'll be great to see them.

On Wednesday, back with London Baroque Music Lovers, who are attending a concert of Handel's Music for the Royal Fireworks, by the Academy of Ancient Music, at the Barbican. Both of these booked when I was in transit, and trying to figure out time zones..

On Thursday, I'm joining the London Horror Film Club for their Hallowe'en Social, at The Angel, St. Giles High Street. This is a group I've been a member of for a while, but whose events I've never yet attended - I think I know one of the organisers, though. Well anyway, how bad can it be, talking horror?

On Friday, I'm flying back to Ireland - it's my mother's birthday the following Tuesday, so I said I'd stay in Ireland until the day after. Looking at films for next Saturday, I see Killers of the Flower Moon is out - the trailer looks excellent for this film, starring Leonardo diCaprio in the true story of the persecution of an Indian tribe in the 1920s - they have become rich from the oil on their land. Robert de Niro plays his uncle, the bad guy, seemingly assisted by Brendan Fraser, John Lithgow is the prosecutor. Directed by Martin Scorsese, how can you lose?! Showing at a manageable time in the Omniplex..