Or that’s my feeling whenever the idea of a Martin Amis movie comes up. His books are unfilmable by default – in case you want to retain the authentic feel, that is. Even in the old days, when he was a lot more straightforward than he is now, it didn’t work (ever seen Dead Babies?). Later on, the grotesque balance of brutality and charm became so fine that you had to struggle to imagine Keith Talent making a screen appearance.
Which brings me to the upcoming release of London Fields. It half-excites me, admittedly, but that’s inertia rather than great expectations. Which might actually work, when the film is out and I gasp with admiration seeing Billy Bob Thornton play Samson Young. And Christ what if Johnny Depp’s cameo as (I’m not saying) makes people read the book… Whose last few pages devastate you like nothing else. And I do mean both physically and emotionally.