Having a beard and expensive designer frames is hardly unique to David Torrance. Not even the name “Davey” is reserved in Scotland for the sole use of David Torrance. When I first saw the PPB in question I was tempted to think poor Davey bore a striking resemblance to that thundering numpty James McEnaney. At least McEnaney knows how to tie a tie, and he has been known to scrub up well – at least in the propaganda shots I’ve seen him in. Other than the beard and glasses Torrance bears as much resemblance to Davey as a polar bear does to a penguin.
Loach has rammed a wedge into the great divide of the cinema-going public; with the right writing the film off as an exaggeration, and the left gushing like loved-up teenagers.
It’s funny because it’s true, or at least it is true insofar as we buy into the stereotype of the infantile, selfish, and unreflective Jock of western culture. As witty as this quip is, it has been regurgitated ad nauseam by the cyber commentariat to the point that it has become something of a truism of male attitudes towards women and the rights of the unborn – if any – had they inconvenience them.
Had I been told tonight that one of my nearest and dearest was involved in a plane crash I would be beside myself with worry. I am sure that we all would. Yet somehow this all changes when the victim of the accident was not seriously injured and happens also to be the very man … Continue reading May the Four be with You