Big ramble, Big Deal

My whereabouts in the virtual world over the last few weeks is kind of questionable. Finding the time to write something on here has been like trying to find Wally, I was never very good at that. A lot of my time has been spent in darkened rooms on comfy chairs, surrounded by film critics that make my reasonably knowledgeable film-buff-brain seem emptier than a library on a Saturday.  The 55th annual London film festival has been and gone but not without me soaking up as much cinematic goodness as I possibly could in between lectures, reading and the general air of head-in-the-clouds-ness that tends to make achieving things somewhat difficult for me. 'What? Its 8:25 and my seminar's at 9? Why of course I've got time to create a masterpiece breakfast involving yesterday's doughnuts, eggs, dollops of creme fraiche and several tonnes of cinnamon. Who doesn't?'
Besides artery clogging and George Clooney oogling I have genuinely (honest) had a lot on my plate, and my plate is the largest size Ikea sell so you know we're talking lots.
Churning out reviews and pretending to know way more about the Dardenne brothers than I actually do became something of an October occupation for me. Once I got over the 9am screening starts (there's nothing like emerging into bright midday sun after an avant-guard experiment you can't quite bring yourself to re-envisage) I had a great time feeling important and knowing that my eyes had been privileged months in advance of the rest of the country. Highlights for me included the much talked about Martha Marcy May Marlene and the documentary Darwin. I'll post about them soon, but for now, since you've made it this far down the dribblings of my underwhelming mind you at least deserve a 3 minute auricular excursion. Big Deal are my obsession du jour ( or if we're being accurate du mois)