Lod of the Flies
Before you begin reading this tale of much humour, it must be mentioned that Miss Gemma Bruce has jumped in the marsh of websites with both feet firmly jammed in the mud and complained about the lack of description concerned the Pot Plants of Devon featured in this film. Therefore I adapt this page:
"This film can safely boast fantastic and heart-rendering acting from the Pot Plants of Devon."
By Emilsk Von Palmovor and Hannatt Borrett
Peter Brook's adaptation
The opening of a dramatization of such a well-loved, dark book should be dramatic. Therefore, we imagine that only budget problems can be responsible for the piece of excrement we witnessed at the beginning of this particular film.
"Lod of the Flies" was an attempt to dramatize the novel by William Golding. What it actually does is make us all laugh heartily at the bizarre accents of the actors and leave us jolly disappointed that nobody was eaten.
The deliberate squashing of Piggy was clearly a high-point of the film, beating the (clearly American) all-English cast at somewhat dismal acting, and cinematography that convinced us that day was night so successfully that the story made no sense what-so-ever. For this we congratulate the director, Peter Brook, nobody else could have done it, they would have at least attempted to use a vaguely appropriate amount of lighting. Perhaps we could lend him a torch or two. Or a magnalite. Or one of those great little laser pens. You know the ones, you can shine them through people's windows. It really annoys the neighbours, and their dogs too.
Although we admit many topics that are considered taboos ought to be mentioned in the film, we are not entirely sure that child pornography is an entirely appropriate subject. Especially the use of whips on young, naked bottoms. It's not very nice really, is it? Unless you're a screaming sex pervert. In which case it's a must-see. Hey! Don't be mean, some people swing that way!
During the film, we are amazed at the high-pitched screams that force us all to exclaim "I didn't know there were any girls on the island!" - and there aren't. Leaving us with the conclusion that the boys have all had their biscuits nibbled.
The music was quite frankly unusual. The monotonous 4/4 drumbeat made us all wonder whether the central heating was quite alright. Then, of course, there is the lovely clashing brass chords vaguely reminiscent of that time that Granddad used Viagra instead of Paracetamol and had a run-in with the cat, Poor Felix was never the same again.
So for all you raging sex perverts and trumpet enthusiasts it will easily shoot to your top ten, along with "Swedish au pairs" and "The lone horn blower". If you don't fall into this category, then we are more inclined to suggest an evening watching Wildlife on Two instead.