As you’ve know doubt noticed this blog has been somewhat neglected over the past few months. Now this isn’t down to a Terrence Malick like sense of perfection or even a Terence Davis like lack of funding (although a healthy dose of capital would certainly help), but due to the arrival of a new member of the Movie geek family.

Being a sleep deprived, guilt-ridden parent isn’t quite as accommodating in the watching of films as the perennial bachelor. Holed up in his bed-sit with a lifetime’s subscription to Empire magazine and a collection of DVD's so extensive there’s hardly room for his life-size model of Gort.

At the end of a full and tiring day and just before the start of a full and tiring night I have barely enough energy to watch the news, let alone sit through two and a half hours of intense Japanese art house cinema. (Although if I did I might re-watch ‘All about Lilly Chou Chou’, a very intense piece of Japanese arthouse cinema) What films I have managed to see have been grabbed like the proverbial lifeline during one or two moments of unexpected free time. During my wife’s stay in hospital or when the kids have finally gone to sleep.

Most have been classic films I’ve had on DVD and never got round to seeing, things like ‘Bonnie and Clyde’ and ‘The Lady from Shanghai’.

The former of course is a film so cool it not only inspired a new generation of filmmakers but a new generation of fashion designers. The later sadly is another example of Orson Welles’ wayward genius. A curious film that makes very little sense, contains some awful performances (what were you thinking with that fake Irish accent Mr. Welles?) and yet still remains an intriguing oddity despite or perhaps because of it’s failings.

My greatest discovery though was found on late night television, ‘The long Goodbye’– Robert Altmans take on the Raymond Chandler novel staring Elliot Gould as Phillip Marlowe.

This seventies take on the hard-boiled detective retains the novels tale of blackmail and murder, yet invests it with a keen sense of irony. Gould’s Marlowe stumbles through the plot like an early take on the ‘Dude’, obviously lost amongst the increasingly bizarre denizens of LA’s hip community. His does very little detective work, smokes constantly and retains a beatific smile throughout, even when faced with the threat of violence.

With it’s long sweeping takes and striking cinematography it has a strange dream like quality that really gets under the skin. By the time the end credits roll, with Gould dancing off into the sunset you’re not quite sure what it is you’ve just seen. Yet like all great films it stays with you and effects your mood for days afterward.

If I can see a few more films of this quality, the sleepless nights would seem so cruel.