Skip to main content

Goodbye to all this... for now



To be continued as and when. No guests were harmed during the making of this film.

Comments

I do so want to have another go but too much on today - I am in a performance this evening which is too dreadful for words.
Also, only you have looked at my previous effort so far - not very encouraging.
Lane Mathias said…
Oh those little guys know how to say it with feeling. That's why I love 'em so-)

Glad no one fell off the cliff:-)
Jenny Beattie said…
Omg I love them, but you are bonkers!
Chris Stovell said…
Rosie, I hope your evening's performance was better than you hoped. I loved your movie - it made you happy and it made me happy, so go for it, girl!

Lane, I'm very grateful to you for pointing me in the direction of so much fun. Thank you dear heart (and yes, phew, good news about the cliff edges!).

JJ.. you know you want to. You don't have to be bonkers to do it, but it helps!
Pondside said…
The raw emotion then the suppressed desire evident in all these highly charged films. Should we be getting our outfits ready for the film festivals and award shows? Don't stop now!
Fennie said…
I think all these films are just wonderful. I am tempted to try my hand. But are two characters only allowed? And why do they speak so strangely with all these funny pauses in between the words? I would not like my characters to look like wooden tops (or Hilary Clinton) Besides I thought shoulder pads went out in the eighties. Enjoy your nuddy pants. How did the voice synthesizer cope?
Chris Stovell said…
Pondside, thank you - I am preparing my acceptance speech (allowing plenty of time for 'gathering' and tears) right now.

Fennie, we directors have to work with the material we are given (sigh!) that means two characters (unless you want to fork out for a larger and, presumably, more sophisticated cast). And now I have to go and mollify my poor actors who are reeling from the 'woodentops' and 'voice synthesizer' comments. They seem to cope very well with 'nuddy-pants', 'fart' and 'mucky' but 'any more' seemed to push them over the edge. What can you do? :)
Maggie Christie said…
More utter brilliance! I love these they really make me giggle. I quite like the odd way they speak. It makes it even funnier.
Hilarious, Chris - I just love it. By the way. Your hair. Looks lovely. Chris.

Ok, ok - do I get the part?

(And do I HAVE to wear those nuddy pants? (sigh))
Chris Stovell said…
Shush, Mags - it'll go to my head and I'll only want to make some more... I lvoe they staccato way they talk too!

LBD. Thank.you. very.much. It's.about.time.someone. commented. on. my. hair.! Your hired!
Chris Stovell said…
Or even You're hired ( I bet the actors could say that better than I can type it!).
Un Peu Loufoque said…
Bet you a sherbet dab he didnt notice!
Flowerpot said…
how very curious - I have a large white bit in the screen where prsumably something should be! Will try later....
Chris Stovell said…
UPL, Sigh, it was ever thus.

FP, yep - their site has been down. Tres annoying.
BT said…
Oh I just love those two, so full of emotion!! lol.

Popular posts from this blog

My First Book Signing!

It’s a fine, dry day and there’s an Italian market in the square outside Waterstone’s. Good for a book signing? ‘Bad,’ says Tim. The stalls are blocking the view of the shop and the fine weather’s keeping everyone outdoors. Hmm, that must be why they’ve only put one small poster up for my event, I mean why waste the Blu Tack? Tim demonstrates handing off the marauding hordes After much refolding of a black tablecloth and a rummage around for some books, I’m invited to take up my position at the author table somewhere between ‘fantasy and horror’, children’s books and a poster of the next author, Bobby ‘Iron Duke’ Windsor who’s signing on Monday. Once Tom, Lily, my lovely daughter, and her partner, Russ, are all sure I’m not going to run away, they leave me to it, taking it in turns to make sure I’m all right and bring me tea. Very soon, I notice a small boy watching me. When he returns with his family I learn that he would like to be a writer. His method, he tells me, is to rewr...

Since You've Been Gone

Well, Ma Mère, There have been so many times when I’ve gathered up all the little shiny moments I’ve collected during the day, ready to present to you in our evening phone call and then I remember all over again that you’re not there. But, Mum, so much has happened since you’ve gone - maybe you know, maybe you don’t - that I’ve decided to write to you instead.  A few days after you died, we sold our house! After all those months! We even joked about you rattling cages somewhere. At first, nothing happened and then suddenly everything happened at a breathless pace and the next thing I knew I found myself driving (yes, me, driving!) along the M4 to Bridgend and the Time Capsule House, the one you said you and Dad would have bought. I remarked, when we first viewed it that if it was meant for us, it would come to us. Over a year later, when it had been under offer twice, we moved in. Oh, Mum, you and Dad would have loved this house; it’s peak Seventies and the decor - the pampas ensu...

Forever Young

Looking at the blurb for my new Lacura WrinkleStop from Aldi, I see that its active ingredient has been ‘proven to help • Reduce forehead wrinkles by 52% • Reduce crow’s feet by 24% • Restrict 82% of wrinkle muscle activity’ That’s quite a claim, isn’t it? Frankly, after years when my face looked like a lunar landscape thanks to the joys of acne, these days I’m just grateful to see a fairly blemish-free skin. Part of me wants to believe that the wonder cream’s making everything looking a bit smoother and tidier, but, hey, there’s also a lot of ‘aqua’ and ‘glycerin’ in the stuff, too. Besides, I could tamper with my skin as much as I like (and I don’t), but I’ve only got to stand next to my beautiful daughters to see the difference. Ma has wonderful skin, so the chances are there are some helpful genes in the mix, but my dad died far too young of cancer, so it’s not all good news. My dad was a carpenter. ‘You can’t get age from a tin, Miss Chris,’ he’d say when rubbing his hands o...