Ootastic: PCOS in pictures

May 28, 2015

30 Film Females: The Iron Lady (2011 again!)

Filed under: 30 Film Females — ootastic @ 12:30 pm

Toddler and I watched the State Opening of Parliament yesterday (cue excited cries of “It’s the Queen”) so I thought it would be a good time to post my drawing for the Margaret Thatcher biopic The Iron Lady, a bonus for the bumper year of 2011. Hopefully it should be obvious this is a modification of Antony Gormley’s iconic sculpture Angel of the North, though some may think Maggie was the opposite. Whatever your views, I hope you’ll agree that the ever malleable Meryl Streep gives a remarkable performance in the title role in this collaboration with female screenwriter Abi Morgan and director Phyllida Lloyd.

The Iron Lady

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May 12, 2015

30 Film Females: When The Wind Blows (1986 again)

Filed under: 30 Film Females — ootastic @ 10:45 am

When The Wind Blows is one of the saddest and scariest films I’ve seen, in spite of (or perhaps due to) it being an animation.  Based on the graphic novel by Raymond Briggs, it tells the story of a retired couple’s futile preparations for a nuclear attack.  Jim (Sir John Mills) optimistically follows governmental instructions (according to the genuine Protect and Survive pamphlet).  Meanwhile, Hilda (Dame Peggy Ashcroft) remains staid and houseproud until the very end: “There’s no need to forget your manners just because there’s a war on.”

I’m too young to really remember the anxieties of the Cold War.  As of writing, the Doomsday Clock shows the time as 23.57, the closest it’s been to midnight since When The Wind Blows was made.  Barring the zombie apocalypse, the greatest threat to my toddler’s generation is probably the effects of global warming.  Sadly there’s no succinct survival guide for such circumstances, but campaigns such as 10:10 and 350 advocate individual action for tackling climate change.

Below is a quick sketch of my local wind farm, which I’ve recently realised anchors my wanderings around the fens.  I drive past on my way to work, gaze upon it from the bus into town and glimpse it in the distance on weekend sojourns.  Like Stephen Spender’s Pylons I think of these statuesque turbines as “bare like nude giant girls that have no secret”.  Sometimes they’re lost in the grey haze of a downpour; at other times they gleam white in the sunshine like exposed bone.  At their feet lies a recently built solar farm, which reminds me of the recent Johnny Depp film Transcendence and makes me wonder if I should be worrying about artificial intelligence after all.

Windmills

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