Film Review

Last night I went to see The Golden Compass and was spellbound for all of the 2 hours. (That included three dashes to the loo because I couldn't stand the tension.)

As a piece of cinematography it was brilliant. The computer generated images – of which there were many – were amazing. How much better can they get? And what I found interesting was hearing that the acting had been done with the daemons by mime – the animals were added later.

It’s about six years since I read the book so my memory is hazy but the book is much more complex than the film, which rushes through the content with Hollywood style speed. Lyra was more confident and grown up than I’d imagined her to be as a 13 year old, but good none the less, and Nicole K as Mrs Coulter was icily believable. (Ws she wearing blue contact lenses? It looked like it.) As for Daniel Craig – well, need I say more?

I was on the edge of my seat all the way through, and so full of adrenaline when I got out that it was hours before I could sleep. But it was worth it, and I strongly recommend the film. A visual feast.

But as an animal lover, what I loved was the dramatisation of the daemons. Every room was crowded with animals reflecting the humans' characters, which made the film all the more fascinating. And Lyra’s daemon was cuddly, caring and brave.

If you want to check out your daemon go to The Golden Compass

And click on daemons. Mine's a tiger.

It made me think of our relationships with our pets and how close we become to them. And as I watched the film, I realised with astonishing clarity that Mollie is my perfect, essential daemon - or rather, she reflects certain aspects of my character and the others are assets that I wish I could have. (Oh, and she’s a girl and according to Philip P rules she should be a boy). She’s feisty, cuddly, stroppy, loyal, loving, competitive and brave.

I told Himself about this lightbulb moment when I got into bed.

‘Of course,’ he said sleepily and turned over. ‘That’s why I chose her.’

Readers, I hit him.

Cornish Florence Nightingale

Around me everyone is sleeping. In the front room, husband is lying on the sofa, underneath the duvet, worn out by his tummy upset. Beside him sleeps Mollie, a sucker for any duvet, as she's not allowed to sleep on our bed. She was also sick this morning, but a polite little pile by the kitchen door, easy to clear up. Next door, in our bedroom, Bussie lies on a shirt of mine, curled up with an intense expression of deep sleep. I'm the only one awake.
Outside the wind flaps towels and jumpers on the line, the sun hot against my cheek. Peace - I can get on with some work.