Suicidal

I’m glad I was out of the country on Wednesday, so missed Theresa May’s ‘we’ll fight them on the backbenches’ speech to the nation. I have now seen a bit of it and she is a despairing vision, lacking authority, intellectual grasp or rhetorical flourish. Many have excoriated her speech, deservedly so, and that being the case I won’t bang on about it. But what bothers me is that she represents us, she is theoretically in charge of the nation’s fate, she somehow – incredibly - is the summation of British hopes and desires. She is none of these things of course, she could be better cast in some Coen brothers film, perhaps ‘The Woman Who Wasn’t There.’ I’m not sure that even the Coen brothers would be able to turn May’s hapless, witless character into something amusing. Perhaps we should look to Ken Loach, who could turn his camera to filming the sequel to I, Daniel Blake. This would be ‘I, Theresa May’ and would be an equivalent study of hopelessness, bureaucratic obstinacy and plain stupidity, combining to make all concerned suicidal.
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To any readers interested in my Perambulations in the art world, I have just posted a review of an exhibition at Humber Street Gallery, Hull.