Rashomon

[This review of the supposedly classic 1950 Japanese film was rejected by IMDb earlier this month.]

This has been called one of the greatest films ever made. To me it is a load of old rubbish. I watched it with subtitles which I presume were accurate. An outlaw sees a Samurai walking through the forest leading his wife on horseback. Suddenly, this reprobate is filled with desire to rape the woman – desire indeed, but that was his word – and murder her husband. The woman is indeed raped and the husband ends up dead. The culprit is apprehended, tried and convicted. He admits his crimes. End of. Or so one would think. Instead, we are treated to a series of diatribes about epistomology. One thoroughly impressed critic said the way the film was lit conveyed messages about the veracity of the claims of the participants – which included the ghost of the murdered man. Seriously?

The reality is that we all view the real world from different perspectives. We may see only part of an incident – a trick used by leftists when confronting the police; we may be looking or listening from a different angle. We may be partially deaf or even colour blind, but there are limits. Catharine MacKinnon may not be able to distinguish consensual sex from a violent rape, but the rest of us can.

The message of this film can be summed up in those three immortal words of the Queen of England: recollections may vary.

Public Toilet For Sale

The first photograph below is of a building that used to be a public toilet in Lower Sydenham. If it appears dark and lopsided, that is because it was taken in the small hours while I stood in the middle of the road.

The second photograph is of what used to be a public toilet in Penge. As you can see, it has been decorated in a somewhat eccentric or even psychedelic fashion and is clearly not for sale. It may be that it is currently being used as a store or something.

Public buildings aside, public toilets are a rarity nowadays. I remember when I was younger they were thicker on the ground, or even underground, and although they tended to be austere and not the sort of place any self-respecting heterosexual would hang around, they were a public service. Some even had attendants.

Something else that has all but disappeared is the public telephone, but as most of us are now walking around with phones in our pockets, that isn’t too much of an inconvenience.

I don’t know if that toilet in Sydenham will be sold, even though it is apparently under offer, but frankly I would like to see more of them, and a few other things that have vanished from our streets, from our society, since I was young.

The Death Of Trafalgar Square

I’ve written about this in previous years, but 2026 and it’s nearly time to sign the death certificate. Not only was most of the Square cordoned off but there was only one entrance, and the number of people who actually entered it was pitiful. The good news is that it was bad news for pickpockets – I have an anecdote about that you must ask me about sometime. Also, there was no crush, although I can’t say the same for the queue at Charing Cross Station when I got there well after 1am. And there was no queue for the toilets either, which has to be good news, but take a gander at the three photographs below which were taken within a few minutes of each other after 11.30. I’ve seen bigger queues in my local supermarket on a Sunday morning.

Will I go again this December 31? If I am still alive and at liberty. And if it is still there.