Thursday, April 14

Different films at different times of the day: if you want to see The Lost Daughter you have to go in the early afternoon. We do, and so we do.

Before we sit down I go to the toilet and marvel, yet again, at the perfection of the decor.

The Lost Daughter stars Olivia Coleman in an award-winning performance as a university lecturer on holiday haunted by stuff: the flotsam and jetsam of a life lived by an imperfect human worried by her imperfections. She reluctantly meets a group of boors who invade her beach space and finds herself forced to ask who, in the end, should feel superior to whom.

Six of us watch the film and the one on my right, a woman in early middle age, insists on checking her phone and answering her fucking messages for the first quarter of the film, until the increasing loud muttering and violent glancing from our seats causes her to switch to actually watching the movie.

Ah, yes: the forgotten art of behaving in public.