Spectator Life

Spectator Life

An intelligent mix of culture, style, travel, food and property, as well as where to go and what to see.

Christopher Nolan’s Odyssey is a triumph

Incredible stories, otherworldly creatures, false identities, a cavalcade of trickery: the original Odyssey is packed with everything you could want from a big-screen blockbuster. And like all great stories, it’s more than just a fantasy adventure. It’s about survival, marriage, truth, what it means to be a man and much more. It’s also roughly 2,700 years old, and by picking it for his latest movie, Sir Christopher Nolan has definitively proved that the old ones are the best. But why, really, has he decided to go Greek? Screenwriters have always been suckers for a good “coming home” story. It was such a popular genre in ancient times that the Greeks even coined a name for it: “nostos.

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In defense of Little House on the Prairie

You can tell things have started to get really bad by the fact that they’re bringing back Little House on the Prairie. When a society is in serious crisis – or so I’ve read – it no longer needs edgy, transgressive, exciting art to push boundaries and challenge assumptions. Rather, it needs to be soothed and cosseted with bland, undemanding and familiar comfort food. Nothing, not even The Waltons, does that quite like Prairie. People griping about the remake have clearly forgotten how dire the original was I may well have gawped uncritically at quite a few of the original series’ 200-odd episodes, the first of which aired in 1974.

The ADHD-ification of squishy toys

“Feeling a bit stressed or anxious? Want to practice more mindfulness? Looking for good vibes and your best mellow and chill?” This is not an advert for a life coach but the official sales pitch for NeeDohs, the much-coveted new children’s toys. These are not mere playthings, you see. Thanks to the ADHD-ification of childhood, they are “sensory fidgets.” NeeDohs are produced by American manufacturer Schylling. They are “the original sensory squish toy”, but others have appeared on the market, such as squishy “original viral dumplings,” produced by RMS International. Squishies are the latest craze – brightly colored blobs of plastic to squash, squeeze, stretch and supposedly help children who have trouble focusing. Squishy, stretchy toys aren’t really new.

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Why Sam Neill was so loved

Actor Sam Neill, whose unexpected death was announced today by his family, was claimed as a son by not one, but three countries. Neill’s light-hearted description of his highly-successful vigneron business reflected his approach to his acting career Born in Northern Ireland, grown up in New Zealand and first making his name in Australia, Neill was more than the “Jurassic Park actor” as first reports of his death labeled him. From the time he first enjoyed the spotlight in the 1970s Australian film, My Brilliant Career, and his BAFTA-winning portrayal of the enigmatic Sidney Reilly in television’s Reilly, Ace of Spies, to his most recent work, Neill’s career was as versatile as it was broad. Chester Campbell in Peaky Blinders was Cardinal Wolsey in The Tudors.

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Dostoevsky is a dreadful writer

On the back of my copy of Fyodor Dostoevsky's 1869 novel The Idiot, there’s a quote from the English philosopher A.C. Grayling that tells you what to think of it. "One of the most excoriating, compelling and remarkable books ever written," it reads, "and without question one of the greatest." That "without question" bothered me. Why assume that every classic deserves its reputation? We should make up our own minds after having read one, as we do with any other book.   That wasn’t the only reason why I treated Grayling’s claims with skepticism as I edged my way into this gargantuan novel (I can’t remember exactly when that was, but I know I was a much younger man at the time).

Southern Gothic: the horror story of Alex Murdaugh, paterfamilias and ‘family annihilator’

The central figure of The Family Man, the lawyer Alex Murdaugh (pronounced "Murdock"), spends his life getting implicated in so many heinous, melodramatic crimes that he seems cobbled together by a cabal of tabloid and commercial publishers, crime podcasters and providers of big budget cinematic sleaze. Memorably referred to by psychopathologists and public prosecutors as a "family annihilator" (imagine a little bit of Medea, a little bit of the Menendez brothers and a whole lot of Oedipus Rex), he was arrested in 2021 for slaughtering his wife Maggie and their youngest son Paul with the same sort of high-tech military weaponry that he enjoyed wielding around his family compound to hunt hogs, and which visitors often found lying randomly about his home and gardens.

Confronting the climate Jeremiahs

The problem with being a well-known climate skeptic is that whenever there’s a heatwave, you get buttonholed by eco-zealots who think it "proves" they’re right and you’re wrong. The first person to confront me during the current sunny spell was a Guardian journalist at a right-wing conference, which the newspaper had clearly identified as a hotbed of "denialism." It didn’t help that the air conditioning wasn’t working and it was approaching 40°C (104°F) in the main auditorium. "I see you’re sweating profusely," he began, shoving a microphone in my face. "Still think climate change is a hoax?" I had to patiently explain that few people on my side of this debate deny that climate change is real.

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Elon Musk should buy Xbox. Yes, really

Elon Musk is hardly lacking for toys. He can spend the morning digging vast tunnels with Hyperloop, the afternoon launching rockets with SpaceX and spend the evening posting on his very own X social media network. Even so, there is one gadget that could still tempt Musk: Microsoft’s increasingly error-prone Xbox. It was reported this week that the Xbox division would be axing 3,200 jobs, the equivalent of a fifth of its workforce. The company is also selling four of its game development studios. Xbox has suffered from slim profit margins, spiraling hardware costs and sluggish growth for Xbox’s Game Pass subscription service. And Xbox fans have been outraged at leaks suggesting the company may remove the disc drive in its upcoming machine.

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I miss Roger Federer

Epic figures leave epic gaps when they retire. The generations that follow are doomed to be compared to past heroes by nostalgic fans. So it is with Roger Federer. Novak Djokovic might be the GOAT (greatest of all time, to use the phrase du jour) in terms of sheer numerical achievement. But tennis is art, not science. Ballet, not bookkeeping. For the aesthetes among us who drink in the sight of on-court grace like champagne, Federer will always be number one.  To answer why, you don’t need words, though heaven knows enough have been written about the grace of Rog. (David Foster Wallace famously called watching the Swiss savant "a religious experience"). Click on any clip and watch Fed glide on the court, near-supernatural in his poise.

roger federer

The glorious silliness of tribute band names

Seeing a tribute band can be a strange experience. There are your heroes on stage once more, magically rejuvenated and playing the music of your youth. You too feel briefly young again – until you notice everyone else at the gig is also at least 57. But as often as not the band is brilliant. They have lovingly tracked down the right guitars, effect pedals and amp settings in search of the perfect sound. They have styled their hair just so, applied the requisite tattoos and, at some obvious expense, commissioned perfect replicas of signature stage outfits. See Björn Again and the girls might come complete with the purple capes worn for ABBA’s 1980 world tour before changing into the white-booted “SOS” look.

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The highs and lows of life as an artist

Provence “Painting is a stupid job. Do something useful and train to be a nurse,” commented a man beneath a column I wrote last month. Although well used to the vitriol leveled at artists from some quarters, I found this particularly annoying. I was a general nurse from 1981 to 1985, after which I completed psychiatric training and spent five years working in acute psychiatry in the East End of Glasgow. That was followed by a year as a district nurse and seven more as a practice sister. I nursed because my lower-middle-class background, with its discouragements and lack of contacts, didn’t equip me even to consider somehow making a living from the two things I’d loved most since I was a child: books and art.

The French love affair with Scotland

France’s summer smash at the cinema is set to be a comedy called The Perfects. It opens next week with an all-star cast that includes Scottish actor Alan Cumming. The Perfects are a family of con-artists who flee France to escape the police and they end up in Scotland where madcap adventures in tartan ensue. It’s further proof that France can’t get enough of Bonnie Scotland. Films, television documentaries, newspaper features and even a puff piece earlier this month on the primetime lunchtime news about a visit to the most isolated pub in Scotland.  Billy Connolly once famously likened Scottish folk singers to ‘singing shortbread tins," churning out clichéd lyrics about mountains, heather and a Roamin' in the Gloamin.’ "Garbage!

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I’m being bullied by Duolingo

For the past 264 days, I have been hounded by a merciless small green owl. If I were to share this with friends, troubled whispers about my mental wellbeing would soon strike up. Disquieted, they might even cart me off to the hellscape of a wellness intervention. And yet this malevolent bird is entirely real. It is there when I unload the dishwasher, lamenting its disappointment in my efforts; and it is there when I put my daughter to bed, warning that it is about to become "very angry." Yes, Duolingo is an insidious Jiminy Cricket on modern shoulders – except that it lives in our pockets and, rather than dispensing wisdom, is an emotionally blackmailing shame merchant with rage issues. It wasn’t always this way.

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Why Japanese students aren’t woke

One of the joys of living in Japan is the lack of wokeness. It is not that it doesn’t exist – there is a Tokyo Pride, the odd Gaza protest, and gender equality is increasingly discussed – it’s simply that the concept doesn’t quite translate. Like the strikes that only take place at the weekend so as not to inconvenience customers, woke protesters here are tiny in number, generally polite and devoid of the threatening aggressiveness of the West. And diversity isn’t really a thing. Maybe that’s another reason tourist numbers have exploded. You can get away from all that here…  The young in particular seem charmingly oblivious to the culture wars, and universities are generally safe spaces for the woke-phobic.

Why do I get stuck with bores at parties?

There are a handful of obsessive mania-types I can get along with swimmingly. Kleptos, heavy-drinking dipsos and nymphos to name a few. But at monomaniacs, I draw the line. Give me anything, anyone, at a social occasion — but not a one-topic conversation.   Why is it that the fewer interests people have, the more boring they become? One wonders what history’s great Renaissance men would have made of today’s crypto bros or blockchain fanatics. I pick on blockchain because, as with so many problems benighting the world, technology is to blame. I’m no Luddite, but I hereby shame content algorithms in the strongest of biblical terms saying, Verily, ye have spawned dullards.

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None of McCartney’s new songs will trouble his setlist for long

On May 30, 1966, the Beatles released “Paperback Writer” – a fortnight after “Paint It Black” by the Rolling Stones and only days before Bob Dylan released “I Want You” as a single. Paul Simon wrote and recorded (with Art Garfunkel) “A Hazy Shade of Winter” not long after. Yes, yes, what bliss it was in that dawn etc. But anyone predicting back then that, 60 years later, all four artists would still be releasing new music and touring to large and appreciative audiences would have been laughed clean out of the Bag O’Nails. Even when glossy monthly music magazines such as Q started appearing in the 1980s, 40 was regarded as the dark side of the moon for the foundational pop stars of the 1960s.

paul mccartney

Why are we still seduced by wealth?

Show me the money. Show it to me in the dedicated pages of national newspapers, in documentaries and TV series and on social media, where influencers make their money by showing me the money. Let me revel in all the clichés we’re offered – the poorer man’s idea of wealth, defined by supercars and mega-yachts, houses pent and country, dinky handbags and preposterous watches, fat cigars, deep tans, Tic Tac teeth and honed abs, for even the body is performative of money these days. Tom Wolfe would be slack-jawed.  Forty years ago he coined the sadly forgotten term "plutography," to capture the then prevailing trend for the publishing business to offer readers a monthly dose of full-color insight into how the other half lived.

My Memorial Day pilgrimage to a Pennsylvania Walmart

Here in the US, Memorial Day – which falls on the last Monday in May – is, officially, an occasion for mourning and honoring military personnel who have given their lives in service to this great country. Unofficially, it is an occasion for charred hot dogs, 24-packs of Bud Light and nationalistic merchandising usually confined to airport gift shops. In our household, however, Memorial Day marks something different entirely. It’s the day we make our annual pilgrimage into the heart of consumer capitalism: a Walmart in East Stroudsburg, Pennsylvania. By now you might know that I live in Manhattan. You might, therefore, be wondering why exactly we’ve adopted this strange ritual, necessarily involving a rental car and gridlocked traffic on the George Washington Bridge.

The politically incorrect heyday of 2000s gaming

Some years ago, a childhood friend of mine was playing the racing game TOCA on the Xbox. It had, for its time, a decent line in realistic car collisions, allowing an inept driver to ruin the race of a competitor. Such was my friend’s dexterity, an irate Australian man said he hoped my friend would get "nonced."  Character building, as my mom would say, though I doubt she’d be entirely approving of the rambunctious culture of online gaming during my teenage years. Playing online in those days meant exposing yourself to commentary that could at best be called "robust." And luckily for worried mothers, the government is here to help.

The political awkwardness of the 2026 Tony Awards

Every year, the American theater world gathers in New York to celebrate the best of the best, and every year, writers like me ask why the judges have made increasingly baffling decisions.  On the surface, it seems as if the 79th Tony Awards, hosted by Pink from Radio City Music Hall, were business as usual. The new revival of Death of a Salesman, with Nathan Lane and Laurie Metcalf and directed by Joe Mantello, was the big winner with six awards including Best Revival and Best Featured Actress. It also represented the partial redemption of the once-powerful, now-humbled super-producer Scott Rudin, whose penchant for big-star vehicles based on classic novels and plays was evident.

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It’s time to turn the page on ‘romantasy’

I wrote recently about my delight that an excellent second-hand bookshop has opened in my home city of Oxford. Well, karma has come around. In the upmarket district of Jericho, it’s recently been announced that Britain’s first "romantasy bookshop," Bad Girl Books, will open next month. The shop is run by an American expatriate named Starlin Marot and is the permanent manifestation of a series of pop-up events she ran in London that have attracted thousands of readers.  Marot told the Oxford Mail: "The reason I like the romantasy genre so much is because it is so inclusive and empowering. It can be empowering to celebrate stories written by women, which feature women's voices and desires. I'm really looking forward to meeting lots of new customers.

Covid-19

Why have we forgotten about Covid?

Deep in the honeycombed limestone caves of Slovenia, Croatia, and Friulian Italy, there is a fantastical creature called "the olm," also known as "the baby dragon." It was once an ordinary salamander, which probably fell down into the karstic caverns – where it has evolved into an eerie pink creature that lives for a century, eats once a decade, possesses eyes without sight, lives permanently in a larval condition – called "neoteny" by zoologists – and has been recorded sitting in the exact same place for seven years, without moving.  Why do I mention the olm? Because, as I travel the world, I’m increasingly wondering if we humans, Homo sapiens – have turned into a peculiar higher primate version of the olm.

I’m done with Rivals

Everybody has been raving about Legends, the Netflix series about undercover customs officers in the 1990s busting a heroin ring. But even though it’s "based on a true story," there are times when it feels more like a histrionically implausible, over-reverential recruitment drive for HM Customs and Excise. "Thought they were just those men in white shirts embarrassing you at the airport by exposing the stash of cheap baccy hidden in your holiday underwear? Think again!" you can imagine the tagline running. The model here, of course, would be Top Gun – the 1986 movie, heavily supported by the US military, which supposedly caused the number of men applying to become US Navy fighter pilots to increase by 500 percent (a figure that’s since been debunked).

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Was Marcel Duchamp’s notorious ‘Fountain’ even his own work?

This slim volume has only one fault. It has no illustrations. So you’ll have to do some Googling or visit the current Duchamp exhibition at MoMA (until August 22) if you want to know what "The Bride Stripped Bare by Her Bachelors, Even" looks like. Otherwise it’s perfect – wittily written and packed with many fascinating characters besides the ever intriguing Marcel Duchamp. He didn’t actually arrive in New York until 1915, but when he did he found himself already famous. His "Nude Descending a Staircase, No. 2" had been included in the 1913 International Exhibition of Modern Art, alongside works by Picasso, Van Gogh, Gauguin, Matisse and Braque, and completely stole the show. Duchamp didn’t even know the painting was being exhibited.

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Meet the anti-Gretas: the women celebrating nuclear energy

Over the course of their lives, Americans have an average carbon footprint of 1,300 tons of CO2. Paris Ortiz-Wines, a young woman from San Francisco, has already canceled hers out. She could hop on a flight every week for the rest of her life, eat ribeyes at every meal and sip almond milk all day long, and still be in the clear. Back in 2021, Ortiz-Wines played a key role in the campaign that stopped the closure of California’s only nuclear power plant, Diablo Canyon. This has already saved more than 30 million tons of CO2 emissions.  Ortiz-Wines is part of a new generation of women advocating for nuclear energy, even though surveys show most women are skeptics. Call them the Nuclear Power Rangers.

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Our local nudists are running wild

Dante’s Beach, Ravenna It was midnight, more or less, and my middle daughter, Magdalena, 18, said with all the untroubled bravado of youth: "Let’s go and find il rospo!" She was at the wheel of the Land Rover Defender and we were involved in a nocturnal driving lesson. Rospo is Italian for toad. And if you say "Dio Rospo" ("Toad God"), that’s blasphemy, so as a good Catholic she doesn’t, whereas, as a bad one, I do because it is funny, as God would surely agree. We drove on slowly, passing half a dozen or so parked cars with solitary men inside them "Il rospo" is our family nickname for the fat man with the eyes of a dead person who emerges after dark in the village thanks to the theft of part of our beautiful beach by highly trained nudists.

Japan isn’t as safe as you think

I was robbed in Tokyo recently, an experience as unexpected as it was distressing. Despite long years in London, plus decades of rough and ready globetrotting to some of the sketchiest places on earth, I have never been a victim in any of these notorious crime hotspots (I feel snubbed especially by London), but this was the second such experience in supposedly the safest city in the world.   What are the odds? The first time I dropped my wallet in a branch of the bargain bucket Don Quijote store and later received a phone call from the staff saying they had it, with ID cards intact but 50,000 yen gone.

Is the end of writing finally upon us?

It's that time of year again. The giddy middle of May. When millions across the English-speaking world gather to find out who has been shortlisted for the Commonwealth Short Story Prize.  This year's shortlist, drawn – as ever – from a diverse selection of not-European, not-male authors, is particularly enriching and profound. As the committee itself puts it, the stories "bring compelling characters to life in sharply drawn settings, exploring themes of power, family tension, resistance and unheard voices, alongside courage and unexpected connection. Among them are a keenly observant domestic worker, a young woman whose henna art enables silenced women to speak, and a resourceful young sheep farmer.

The virility-signaling of French politicians

Once upon a time Frenchmen regarded themselves as the world’s greatest lovers. These days they think of themselves more as fighters. Sexual partners have been replaced by sparring partners. President Felix Faure famously died while being pleasured by his mistress in 1899, but the blows favored by today’s male politicians are administered to punchbags. Emmanuel Macron loves to box. His wife, Brigitte, told Paris Match in 2023 that her husband puts on his gloves twice a week for "45 minutes of training, warm-up and core-strengthening boxing." Macron regularly poses for photos wearing his boxing gloves. In March 2024 he was snapped hitting a punchbag. The more cynical wondered if there hadn’t been some "enhancement" to the President’s bulging biceps.