Julie Burchill is always good value for money and it’s good to see that she hasn’t lost her acerbic wit and has retained her ability to call a spade a spade.
I laughed at this part her article in today’s Guardian ridiculing fashion magazines who push the idea that women must try to look as young as possible to pull the best men:
“Most heterosexual men merely want a woman above the age of consent to wash, show up, bring beer and strip naked. They are far from the harsh taskmasters, when it comes to female appearance, that they are routinely made out to be and the idea that they go about rejecting every woman who doesn’t resemble a small-eyed baby is very much belied by the number of men who are frankly desperate to get themselves a girlfriend”.

Margaret Atwood is an intelligent enough writer not to depend on contrived drama or sensationalised events, but with this novel she’s almost dispensed with a plot too. This wouldn’t necessarily be a drawback if any of the characters were likeable but I couldn’t warm to, or care about, any of them.
This movie is based on Colin Clark’s memoir ‘The Prince, The Showgirl And Me’ and tells the story of what happens when an Eton educated 23 year old toff seeks gainful employment in the glamorous world of movies.






