Notes On A Scandal is a well made adaptation of a good, yet difficult book. Both are compelling, yet uncomfortable to watch and read. The impending sense of sadness and tragedy which fill both cannot exactly be described as entertainment – which is fine of course, we are not always about entertainment. But instead Notes allowed me to see the increasing North Londonification of London Cinema. And when I say North London I mean my hood: Archway, Crouch End & Highgate. Post Shaun Of The Dead, we got Breaking And Entering and now Notes On A Scandal which uses the Archway Road extensively.
Its fun to watch places you know on screen. Its fun to watch Judi Dench, with make-up on to make her look older than usual (hmm, there was probably another way of doing that) walking round my area. But this integration into my life took a far too invasive step forward when the film entered Cate Blanchett’s bourgeois household, for a Sunday lunch. There on the table was an identical pepper grinder to the one in my house. And before you say pepper-grinders are much of a muchness, not if you have a battery hungry electric pepper grinder. It is a pretty useless utensil in my opinion, and yet there is something seductive about its superfluousness. Almost a definition of middle class bourgeoisie’s in a table-top addition. So as set dressing it worked fine. As a social commentary on me, it was not welcome.