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.
