The Perfect Location, by Kate Forster

Established actress Rose Nightingale, edgy action star Sapphira De Mont and up-and-comer Calypso Gable find themselves on location in Perugia Italy.
Each of them has demons and secrets and all are romantically challenged, all of which are addressed over the course of the film shoot.
This is chick lit taken to soap opera levels of drama. Drug addiction, stalking, rape, and sexual harassment, stage mothers – it’s all here.
There is an awful lot of clunky exposition to start and listing every detail of every label of every stitch the women wear gets tedious for the non fashion-forward.
Research has definitely been done – most of it is on the page.
Fewer characters and more character development would have made for a better story.
The actual film is peripheral to the plot, which it’s a pity as it’s refreshingly unusual to read of a Hollywood movie featuring three leading actresses.
The novel was published in 2012, so it was prescient on Hollywood’s me too issues – starkly portrayed here.
There is never any doubt that all three women will find their happy endings and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Grown Ups, by Marian Keyes

Johnny Casey’s 49th birthday sets the scene for a major family implosion, with many secrets spilled and three marriages put at risk, after a head injury leads to home truths.
Jump back six months to another family get-together and then forward through several more, all instigated by Johnny’s wife Jessie – the self appointed family matriarch.
They gradually reveal the complicated history of this large and messy extended Irish family that requires a gnarled tree at the start for reference as to how everyone is related, or not.
Sisters-in-law Jessie, Cara and Nell could not be more different, but then again neither could their husbands – the Casey brothers.
The sprawling tale of all their interactions, children, flaws, mistakes and shenanigans is warm and witty, if at times a little hard to swallow.
Keyes has never been shy of a cause, but she perhaps goes a bit overboard here, with asylum seeker policy, eating disorders, period poverty and gaslighting all getting an outing, along with something of a lecture.
She also veers into exposition a few times to fill in the very intricate back stories of so many characters.
Jessie’s aggressive and oppressive generosity, Cara’s body insecurity and Nell’s terrible decisions don’t make you like them any less. Good people sometimes do bad things, but they can redeem themselves and in the end family matters more than anything else.
Several of Keyes’ earlier novels were linked by one family – the Walshes; each focussing on a different family member. There is scope for the Caseys and Kinsellas to form a similar nexus; it would certainly be interesting to find out what happens next for the younger generation, particularly the luscious Ferdia.

The Personal History of David Copperfield (2020), directed by Armando Iannuci

It was interesting to find a number of people thought this film was about the American illusionist of the same name. This may be a sign that although many may know of author Charles Dickens they are not so familiar with his actual books.
It has been a while since the last BBC adaptation of one of his classic tales, so it is probably timely to see this rather different interpretation for the big screen.
The totally colour blind casting seems odd at first, only because of the 19th century England setting, but as the story is played almost more as fantasy than history it really doesn’t matter that aristocratic black women have white children. As the title says, it is a personal history and in these times the effect is kind of nice.
The production design is sublime and the costumes gorgeous, giving the film a sumptuous look and feel.
Despite its fantastical elements, the film makes some pointed jabs, true to Dickens, about class, snobbery, wage theft and child labour. So there is a little social history included.
Dev Patel does a great job of portraying the ups and downs of David Copperfield, a man of many nicknames who finally claims his true identity when he makes his own place in the world.
A wonderful supporting cast includes a slew of well-known British faces, including Hugh Laurie, Peter Capaldi and Gwendoline Christie, with Tilda Swinton outstandingly funny as aunt Betsy Trotwood.
Many laugh-out-loud scenes relieve the Dickensian sentimentality. There are no magic tricks, but plenty of magical moments in a film that puts a visual focus on the power of words.

The Girl Who Reads on the Metro, by Christine Feret-Fleury

Juliette leads a narrow and regimented life, escaping it only through reading a wide variety of books that take her anywhere and everywhere.
This self-imposed ennui is almost incomprehensible in an attractive and financially secure young woman living in Paris.
She is bored by her job and her main form of entertainment is people watching on her journey to work.
A sudden impulse to get off the metro before her usual stop leads her into an unexpected adventure that literally changes her life.
Soliman and his daughter Zaide offer Juliette a way out of her comfort zone, helping other people through books.
The story has an Amelie-style quirkiness, which is often charming but at times cloying and self-conscious.
It encompasses a mind-boggling array of books, from many countries and cultures. The tone is occasionally didactic; such when describing the Bookcrossing concept to introduce Soliman’s operation, but this may be a fault of translation.
It is a slight book, set firmly in the present and touching lightly on modern-day issues and problems, but with a timeless quality that is probably the secret of its success.

The Truants, by Kate Weinberg

Jess Walker has chosen an obscure regional university over Oxford to study English Literature because of a particular professor.
A classic middle child, Jess quickly finds her tribe: instant best friend Georgie, boyfriend Nick and charismatic journalist Alec, as well as Dr Lorna Clay.
They help her break out of her conventional middle-class mores, let loose and have some fun.
But this is not enough for Jess, who wants what she can’t have – except maybe she can.
Fuzzy plot points and timelines detract from the story. Just what is a South African journalist doing hanging around an obscure English university? And just how long is an Easter vacation that it can accommodate conception, abortion, autopsy and funeral, plus a trip to Italy.
The story begins with a prologue that indicates an idyll gone very wrong (dear reader). The first half unfolds as a coming-of-age narrative and suddenly becomes an almost gothic mystery that is literally an incredible mess.
Jess makes some seriously bad choices, which makes it difficult to sympathise with her when they bring her undone.
In the end there are more questions than answers about Lorna and her motivations in a strangely unsatisfying tale.

Signature Gin, 23rd St Distillery

It’s been such a thrill to see more boutique gins popping up in the non-specialist liquor outlets, although sometimes the price can be eye-popping due to the excessive federal excise.
This one is from the South Australian Riverland town of Renmark and it’s another warm little number, with notes of mandarin and lime.
This can finish a little sweet on the palate, so choice of tonic is key if mixing.
It is available in neat little 200ml tasters, as well as the standard 700ml bottles, which is the perfect way to check it out.
It has been a revelation to a lover of the London dry style – heavy on the juniper – learning to appreciate the more delicate and subtle botanical flavours created by local distilleries.
Keep an eye out for special offers to try some of these lovely gins and form a new habit.

The Mirror and the Light, by Hilary Mantel

It has been a while since the second novel of this Thomas Cromwell trilogy was published and it takes a bit of effort to get back into to Mantel’s unusual style.
It can be difficult sometimes to work out who is speaking, compounded by extended passages of Cromwell’s thoughts, memories and even dreams.
It begins immediately after Bring Out the Bodies finishes, in the aftermath of Anne Boleyn’s execution and the instant marriage of King Henry VIII to Jane Seymour.
The almost 900 pages of dense, 16th century politics is surprisingly easy to read once you get into the rhythm of it.
Cromwell is a fascinating character. Was he an avaricious schemer and social climber? A religious and social reformer? A power-hungry manipulator? Possibly all of the above.
Revenge appears to have been his great motivator; he was a loyal friend; a great mentor to young men; kind to children and a collector of enemies.
Mantel transports readers into the heart and mind of the 16th century’s most astute politician, until he wasn’t.
Class was to be Cromwell’s downfall; even those who greatly benefitted from his policies resented his extraordinary social mobility and worked actively to undermine him.
The second half of the book flags a little, with rather too many lingering memories that add little to the illumination of Cromwell’s character or the steps that lead to his downfall. This may be because they unnecessarily elongate the path to the inevitable.
Mantel paints a picture of Cromwell as a true renaissance man, ahead of his time in many ways that became his undoing. As such he elicits sympathy, despite his many faults, not least for surviving and thriving for 10 years in the service of a most capricious king.