Hard to believe it’s 50 years since the world’s greatest martial arts movie star died. Bruce Lee was just 32 and had starred in a mere four films, but the impact he made on the movie industry was phenomenal.
Though he made tremors in the industry as the sidekick Kato in TV’s The Green Hornet, it was of course Enter the Dragon which turned him into a superstar. And just as his star had ascended, he was gone. The Hong Kong movie industry mourned their greatest star… for a few hours at least, and then hundreds of unauthorised biopics, sequels, prequels and spin-offs rolled into production. Anyone with martial arts skills who looked a bit like Bruce Lee were hired to fill the enormous gap left by the master. Because of the lack of legal control over Lee’s image, it was open season as cash-hungry producers tried to meet the enormous demand left by his passing.
‘Bruceploitation’ took off, and director David Gregory has done a terrific job of assessing this extraordinary time. (Gregory’s documentary about the making of Richard Stanley’s The Island of Dr Moreau is also well worth a look).
Stars including Bruce Li, Bruce Le, Bruce Liang and Dragon Lee reflect on their time attempting to follow in the footsteps of the master.
One German contributor explains how all the Bruce clones were billed as Bruce Lee on his commercial copies, despite the fact they weren’t the original star. In fact it seems every scrap of footage, and even a shot of Lee in his coffin, was used to sell Z-list Bruce-related movies.
‘Bruce Lee Fights Back From Beyond the Grave’ was one of many ‘what if’ adventures.
One movie even had the audacity to say the co-stars were Jack Klugman and Jane Seymour because the Bruce lookalike was filmed meeting them at a party.
Long before Uma Thurman sported that yellow tracksuit in Kill Bill as a homage to Game of Death, other film makers were desperate to make their own movies claiming they were Lee’s final movie, or a variation of it. All of them were rubbish.
The eventual Game of Death, which had about 15 minutes of Bruce Lee footage, was finished, and some might say was as bad as many of the cheap clones.
While nobody could match the original Bruce, the genre evolved into the action comedies of Jackie Chan and Sammo Hung, who are natural successors to Lee’s throne.
There’s no shortage of extras, including a yack track with co-executive producer/director David Gregory, co-producers Frank Djeng, Vivian Wong and Michael Worth and Director of Photography Jim Kunz.
It’s fabulous stuff, beautifully researched, with some great contributors. Recommended for cineastes and casual observers alike.
An estranged couple are out jogging in a sun-dappled park. In the centre is a lake with a No Swimming sign, and there’s an old waste bin. That aside, everything looks the same as (Nicole Kidman/Amy Adams lookalike) Jen is fuming with her fella, Dan. While he struggles to keep up, she’s keen to keep her distance from him as they come to terms with the fact their relationship is on the rocks.
Some might say the park is a metaphor for their relationship; a seemingly endless loop of sameness. But what is that weird sound they both experience, and what is the relevance of those headphones which keep appearing? And who is that shadowy figure in a hoodie on the horizon? And will we ever get an answer to all of the above?
Admittedly it takes a while for Brightwood to get going, but as a two-hander, Dana Berger and Max Woertendyke do a great job as that couple. To reveal too much would be unfair, and while there are some maddening touches, for the most part this is compelling stuff reminiscent of a similar thriller set on a desert highway, The Fearway, and Christopher Nolan’s The Prestige. There are flashes of humour before the finale turns into an inevitably bleak denouement which should appeal to fans of early eighties video nasties.
The debut feature for director Dane Elcar (whose dad Dana Elcar propped up films such as The Sting, 2010 and countless TV police sagas), he is also the screenwriter and cinematographer who makes the most of an obviously limited budget.
I’m not surprised it was a feature inspired by a short film – Elcar’s 20-minute The Pond was made in 2018. This could have been a half-hour episode of Black Mirror, and though the 80-plus minute run time is fair enough, like the feuding couple, there is a feeling Elcar should have called it a day earlier.
Starring Tom Berenger, Melanie Griffith, Billy Dee Williams
Directed by Abel Ferrara
By Roger Crow
Forty years after it thrilled and probably appalled cinemagoers, director Abel Ferrara’s equally slick and grungy thriller is dusted down for a new audience.
As the helmer also gave us The Driller Killer and Bad Lieutenant, you know it’s not going to be a movie for the easily shocked.
Following a truly awful opening song by New York Dolls veteran David Joahnsen (the ghostly cabby in Scrooged), it feels like we’re in pre-Showgirls territory with lingering shots of strippers in a seedy club. Star of the show is Melanie Griffith, before she was really famous, and major actors like Tom Berenger and an uber smooth Billy Dee Williams.
The villain is a ripped martial artist who parades naked around his warehouse and scribbles his Travis Bickle-style ramblings into an eponymous journal. I imagine one of the pages read ‘How on earth did I get involved in such a so-so movie?’
Anyway, he goes around killing strippers while generic cops, including punch-drunk ex boxer Berenger, try to track him down.
Like Tom’s later movie Someone To Watch Over Me, there’s one of those opening
aerial shots of New York, but once Ridley Scott gave us his take on the Big Apple, everything that came before looked a bit lacklustre by comparison.
Picture and sound quality is rather good on the new version. It’s scrubbed up well, with those reds really popping. Oh and as it’s obviously always raining in New York, those neon reflections look great too.
Around the same time, Brian DePalma was working on Body Double, another slick and sleazy serial killer thriller with Griffith, which owed a debt to Ferarra’s Driller Killer.
So, an A/B-list cast sold short by a Z-list script. Berenger and Dee Williams deserved far better, as did Griffith and Maria Conchita Alonso (Predator 2). Look out too for Ola Raye, who popped up in that Michael Jackson Thriller video a year before.
Starring Bryce Dallas Howard, Sam Worthington, Henry Cavill
Directed by Matthew Vaughn
Certificate 12A
By Roger Crow
Remember the old Ronnie Corbett gags which started off as a simple joke but took a meandering route to get to the punchline? Imagine 90 minutes of that and you get the latest epic from Matthew Vaughn. Nine years ago, after fantasies like Stardust and X-Men First Class, he really struck gold with Kingsman, which had a relatively simple Pygmalion-meets-James Bond quality. Aside from terrific action scenes and a winning, star-making turn from Taron Egerton, it was everything 2015’s Spectre should have been and wasn’t.
Alas, two hit-and-miss Kingsman follow-ups have led to Argylle, an early candidate to sweep the boards at the Razzies 2025. Following that OTT opener set in Santorini with Dua Lipa as a convincing femme fatale, gritty reality goes out the window. (Sorry Dua fans. She’s in in for all of 10 mins, despite her prominence on the poster).
Anyway, we discover Bryce Dallas Howard is the prim and proper flame-haired author whose Argylle spy novels have won legions of besotted fans. She’s about to put the latest one to bed but her mother (Catherine O’Hara) thinks it needs more work.
While on a train with her cat in a backpack, she encounters Sam Worthington’s bearded, shaggy haired individual who claims to be a spy. Thanks to a conceit in which Henry Cavill plays her eponymous hero, we cut between him doing stunts and Worthington. Which is fine in short bursts, but we get no end of quick cuts from one to the other. Annoying.
Now l’ll suspend my disbelief with most things, but when our heroine falls asleep in Worthington’s car in the UK and wakes up in France, that’s when alarm bells start ringing.
What follows is a sugar rush of outrageous set pieces, typically balletic stunts, some bad CGI, and some occasionally funny moments. Oh, and there’s a scene involving oil and makeshift ice skates which begs all kind of questions, like why is there so little oil on the heroine?
Bryan Cranston and Samuel L Jackson also star in a movie which owes a debt to SLJ’s sublime The Long Kiss Goodnight, but is about as subtle as a rhino in a gold dress rampaging through a china shop.
The use of The Beatles’ final tune Now and Then is also a curious one, as it was supposed to be the beloved song of two key protagonists, but as it was only released last year, it feels far too new in its finished form. And don’t get me started on that cheesy action scene set to Light Up, which used those multi-coloured clouds pioneered in Kingsman.
Argylle was slated by one broadsheet, and though not a one-star movie, it’s generous to give it three out of five. The comic book tone is fun, but the narrative is all over the place with a meta hero that deserved his own movie without the angst-ridden heroine.
Brains in neutral, expect little, and it works small wonders.
‘Obicà Mozzarella Bar, located in the heart of Soho, London, is an Italian restaurant and pizzeria that prides itself on offering the finest Mozzarella di Bufala Campana, along with a variety of traditional Italian dishes, all within a warm and welcoming ambience’.
That’s sort of the official line from the company, but how accurate is it?
Well, there’s certainly a warm welcome when Mrs C and I arrive early and sit outside, soaking up a few rays before our lunchtime booking.
Photos care of Obica.
At the core of their menu, we find an exquisite assortment of mozzarellas sourced directly from the lush plains of Campania.
And as we were lucky enough to sample the real thing on our first trip to Italy a few years ago, there’s no difference between the quality in London or in Naples.
The accompanying rustic bread with fresh basil leaves, olive oil and delicious tomatoes, it’s quite easy to fill up on carbs before the main arrives. Especially when I find the balsamic vinegar, and suddenly the bread takes on a new flavour. Seriously, if you’d told me as a kid that balsamic vinegar existed, I’d have asked for it every birthday rather than have to wait 30-plus years to find out. The restaurant’s aged Modena brand is so good I need to track it down immediately.
Photos care of Obica.
Anyway, back to now, and my main is a no-brainer. The lasagna with beef ragu (£15.50) is to die for with perfectly cooked layers of fresh pasta, delicious sauce and cheese complimenting one another perfectly. There’s a very generous portion which proves very filling, so I reluctantly have to leave a third, which is a sacrifice worth making.
Rachel opts for an equally delicious vegetarian option: Trofie with basil pesto, potatoes, green beans and pine nuts (£13) melts on the tongue. A delicate mix of flavours that rewards the diner with each mouthful.
It’s a Saturday lunchtime and it doesn’t take long for the place to start filling up. Obviously with the pandemic and global economy affecting the dining trade, times have been tough over the last couple of years for every restaurant in Blighty, Italian or otherwise, and it’s good to see business thriving once more. Given the quality of the food, and the not bad prices (especially considering it’s London), I doubt Obicà will have much trouble selling their summer menu in the last few weeks of what has been a hit-and-miss season on the weather front.
Photos care of Obica.
We consider calling it a day, but the more I chat with the general manager about the desserts (they don’t do cannoli sadly), the more I realise we can’t leave without sampling something sweet. And as I’m hard-wired to try tiramisu in every decent Italian we visit, it’s not long before a trip of mini desserts have arrived at our table. As this version of my favourite sweet treat is alcohol-free, there’s just that pure hit of chocolate and caffeine. It’s almost a crime not to have one before you leave. An equally delicious mini baked cheesecake also hits the spot, as does the Torta Du Capri, or flourless chocolate and almond cake with Italian gelato. They’re a fiver each, and worth every penny.
Every photo I take of the food could have been used in one of their online adverts, which is more to do with their visual presentation rather than my photography skills.
Good food can be a temporal gateway to another country and another time; one mouthful of good lasagna can transport me to Rome or Naples, but also back in time 50 years to those first mouthfuls of pasta when you’re a kid and your realise for the first time how fun slurping pasta can be. Our palates may become more sophisticated as the years fly by, but we never forget great food, a great restaurant, or good staff, and Obicà in Soho ticks all those boxes. We may not be dining in the shadow of the Colosseum, but the spotless decor, and welcoming ambience is enough to make us want to return sooner rather than later.
Making a biopic of a genius composer conductor like Leonard Bernstein was never going to be easy. Do you get two or three actors to play him at different stages of his life, or one guy with some good make-up? In the case of Maestro, the latter, though the fact Bradley Cooper plays Bernstein has led to some controversy as you’ll have probably read elsewhere.
Bernstein was a complex character, juggling his work with a complicated love life. It seemed he loved everyone and everything, and had a tricky time hiding the fact, especially from his wife when a new guy caught his eye.
From the opening featuring a seasoned Leonard, we flash back to the early days shot in sulphurous black and white. The dialogue has a machine gun patter, with actors barely pausing for breath. And the cast is terrific, including Maya (Stranger Things) Hawke as his daughter, Jamie. However, it’s really a film about two performances: Carey Mulligan, who gives a Best Actress-worthy turn as Felicia, aka Mrs Bernstein, and Bradley, whose make-up is so good, especially in 4K HD, you really can’t see the join.
And there are times when he really becomes the genius who breathed life into West Side Story, and so many other beloved classics. Like John C Reilly in Stan and Ollie, it’s a remarkable experience watching him do his thing, embodying an acclaimed artist, while also directing the film he co-wrote and produced. How good Cooper’s tea-making skills on set were we can only imagine, but I imagine it’s one of the best cuppas you’ll ever taste.
One scene where Bradley conducts an orchestra (crucial to the film’s authenticity) makes you wonder whether he could do it for real. I’m guessing the answer is a resounding yes.
When Brad picks up an armful of gongs on Oscar and BAFTA night, naturally a new wave of viewers will warm to his latest movie. If nothing else, it’s proof that Cooper’s take on A Star Is Born was no fluke. And this also features a tear-jerking third act which generates that all-important sucker punch. Be warned: hankies will be required.
The cinema verite style, with locked-off cameras, creates a naturalism reminiscent of Woody Allen’s best works. And it’s a lot easier for an actor/director to shoot a scene when they don’t have to worry about tracking from A to B.
You will have to keep up because there’s no spoon-feeding regarding the era. No title cards to tell you when we are, but like all film makers who treat their audience with respect, the rewards pay dividends. I can only imagine how Cooper is going to top this, but then again, that film’s title doesn’t just refer to the character at the heart of the drama but the man playing him. Yes, he’s that good.
A seemingly empty spaceship, a very slow robot, and the Tardis has done a runner… with the sonic screwdriver. The Doctor and Donna, having stopped off to alter history with Isaac Newton, are now in space, somewhere and gravity is now mavity, because of that brief interlude.
But what is going on, and why are there no stars?
These are amazing times for Whovians, and to get such a deliciously creepy ep on prime time Saturday night was an absolute joy.
Echoes of classic ep Midnight, and even that hit and miss 2009 movie Pandorum. But at the heart(s) of it were David Tennant and Catherine Tate, one of the best double acts the show ever had, as Partners in Crime proved with their silent communication routine, which is still fabulous today.
Yes, there were fabulous Docs before Tennant, and a couple that really got that sense of fun and gravitas, or should that be mavitas? But none had that all-rounder appeal, and that final cameo was possibly the best ever.
It’ll be a shame when they head off into the Wild Blue Yonder, but what a final ride.
There was a time when we just got superhero movies, with one protagonist; one villain; epic set pieces and an actual story. But then the need for more meant two villains, maybe three, and one hero. And an actual story. And as the genre mutated, fans wanted even more. They wanted a reminder of how good the previous movies were, so we got the multiverse. Yes, other versions of Spider-Man for example could co-exist, and fight super villains, even if they were killed in other movies. The enormous success of the last few Spidey movies (animated and live action) meant Hollywood backers knew there was safety in numbers, so as long as there’s a handy explanation of the multiverse, then anything goes.
I’m sure there are plenty of fans of DC Comics’ hero The Flash out there, and given the seemingly random moment in Batman vs Superman (2016) when a hint of what was to come was included in that epic letdown, DC bosses have been planting seeds for The Flash movie for some time.
(Suicide Squad and Justice League also boosted the hero’s profile, and not to be confused with TV’s The Flash, which is apparently a different thing altogether).
This film is a game of two halves. On the one hand is the fact that Michael Keaton’s Batman is back for the first time since 1992, which is a cause for celebration. On the other is a weird Big Bang Theory-style sitcom which plays out with hero Barry Allen (Ezra Miller). ‘Hey, wouldn’t it be fun if there were two of them, like in Keaton’s clone comedy Multiplicity, and one was really annoying?’ Well, sort of. In fact both Barrys are pretty annoying, but on the plus side there is one of those amazing set pieces when the lightning-fast hero attempts to save a load of babies, and a nurse, and a therapy dog, from a collapsing building. It’s basically a revamp of those bits in the X-Men movies when Quicksilver did the same sort of thing.
Anyway, we know what Barry can do, and like all great heroes, he suffered a loss at a young age. But what if you could run so fast that you could turn back time and prevent that tragedy from happening? How would that change things?
Well, as we all know from countless similar movies like Back to the Future (which features a clever Eric Stoltz rather than Michael J Fox nod), it creates a paradox, aka alternating timelines. Except in this reality, Barry and his alt-version, the super annoying one, can co-exist.
Following cameos from Ben Affleck’s Batman and Gal Gadot’s Wonder Woman, we eventually meet up with Keaton’s Batman, who is now a shaggy haired, bearded recluse in Wayne Manor.
For a hardcore Batfan like me, the recreation of 1989/1992 era Batman is a joy, from the suit, the HQ and the toys to Danny Elfman’s sublime, albeit revamped score. It’s just a shame Bruce moves like a 20-year-old stunt double and looks like a superbly weathered pensioner.
So both versions of The Flash team up with Batman 89/92, and break the alt-Supergirl (Sasha Calle) out of prison. In this world there is no Superman, as 2013-era General Zod (Michael Shannon) explains. Yes, the ground zero of Zack Snyder’s Man of Steel is revisited again, like it was in Batman vs Superman. Can old Batman and The Flash stop this version of Zod?
Naturally there’s an epic set piece in which our heroes tackle the Kryptonian villains, and the whole thing feels satisfying, like a video game cut-scene. But then there’s a load of stuff in which both Barrys try to change the outcome of the battle, and like a bowl of Bruce Wayne’s ‘exposition spaghetti’ from earlier in the movie, the whole thing turns into a hot mess of alt timelines. And like anyone who saw the 1998 version of Lost in Space, there’s a serious reminder of what obsessive time line meddling can lead to.
I’m a huge fan of sitcom Two Doors Down, so one person I didn’t expect to see in this mega bucks comic book conversion was Kieran Hodgson, stealing the movie from under Ezra Miller’s nose in the first few minutes.
A minute later, the brilliant Sanjeev (Unforgotten) Bhaskar is doing the same thing. Some of the reason is the movie was partly shot in Glasgow, which is one of the go-to places for blockbusters needing ‘American’ streets but without paying New York prices. (See also World War Z, The Batman, and the last Indiana Jones movie).
So while The Flash isn’t as bonkers as the Aquaman movie, it’s so frantic you may need a lie down. It also needed trimming by 20 minutes, and may have been stronger without that loving homage to George Reeves and Christopher Reeve’s Superman. We also get a look at what Nicolas Cage’s Superman would have looked like from the aborted 1998 Tim Burton version.
The Flash is not without merit, and the final gag with a laugh-out-loud funny cameo from a well known coffee salesman is worth sticking around for.
It’s just a shame the running scenes still feel so inert, like they did when Eric Idle’s super-fast hero in The Adventures of Baron Munchausen chased projectiles and pulled off amazing feats with differing degrees of success back in 1988.
Ideally there’s a version of this movie where The Flash is barely in it; a blur if you like, and given Miller’s headline-grabbing issues in recent years, morally that may have been the best option too.
As fun as bits of The Flash are, I’m not desperate for a sequel, unless Michel Keaton and that other guy from the finale turn up and dominate the movie, then count me in.
Starring John David Washington, Madeleine Yuna Voyles, Allison Janney
Certificate 12
Directed by Gareth Edwards
By Roger Crow
Once in a blue moon there comes a sci-fi epic that’s not a sequel, an adaptation of a comic or video game, and has a vast scope and scale that genuinely amazes.
Years after helming one of the best Star Wars movies, Rogue One, Brit director Gareth Edwards is back with The Creator.
Imagine if James Cameron, Akira’s Katsuhiro Otomo, Neill Blomkamp, the much missed Syd Mead and a few other visionary types merged with Edwards and made a movie. This is the result.
Boosted by the presence of John David Washington as Taylor, the hero who goes on an epic journey with a hybrid human/cyborg child, there are times this feels like Apocalypse Now with robots. If Sarah Connor had clashed with Terminators in Nepal, this would sort of be the result.
Edwards burst onto the sci-fi scene years ago with his micro budget hit Monsters, which cleverly merged VFX with on-location footage to brilliant effect. He was then snapped up for a Godzilla reboot, and that paved the way for Rogue One. This is his first proper stab at a non-franchise project since Monsters, and it’s a feast for the eyes and soul.
Never has a year been more about the pros and cons of AI, and the movie, released at a time when the Hollywood strike over the AI threat to jobs has been prevalent, tapped into that fear.
Like District 9, which examined apartheid with a sci-fi twist, this examines a brave new world where humans and AI-droids can live together while an orbiting gun platform wanders the earth threatening everyone.
In the mix is gravel-voiced Ralph Ineson as a top brass military type, and a barely recognisable Allison Janney as a kick-ass soldier with a grudge against the droids.
There are echoes of Blomkamp’s Elysium, and assorted anime epics, but this is still impressive stuff from a superb film-maker who coaxes fine turns from his leads.
Madeleine Yuna Voyles is remarkable as the young heroine, and the fact it only cost $80million is staggering. The film looks like it cost three times the amount thanks to filming in some fantastic locations. Certainly cheaper than building the sets.
There is room for a sequel, though it’s anyone’s guess whether that will happen. Ideally seen on a huge screen, though I watched as a digital download, and wished I had seen it at a cinema. And now I feel like I need to see it again to soak up that incredible attention to detail.
One of my favourite memories from years of celeb interviews was the time Henry Winkler spent 10 mins discussing his life story.
“What a pleasure!”, he remarked with genuine honesty as we started chatting.
It left me hungry for more, and now I get to spend hours with the man who was an icon to millions.
His long-awaited autobiography has been on my pending list for months, and when it finally drops, I listen to about four hours in one sitting.
And it was well worth the wait.
We may think we all know the story of how a jobbing actor became an overnight star thanks to ‘that’ sitcom, but it soon becomes apparent that’s just the tip of a fascinating iceberg.
Born of German-Jewish stock, Henry’s dad was smart enough to get his family out of harm’s way before the Nazis killed them. They settled in America, where young Henry was constantly berated for being unable to read. What they didn’t realise was he was dyslexic; it was a time when such a word meant nothing, and countless other students were deemed troublemakers or ‘dumb dogs’ because of their inability to read.
Anyway, skip to him getting the acting bug and that inevitable casting call to play Arthur Fonzarelli, the greaser bit-part character in sitcom Happy Days. Star of the show, Ron Howard, was a child actor who already had a decade’s experience under his belt by the time he played Richie Cunningham, the lovable protagonist at the heart of the comedy.
What nobody expected was how much the Fonz would take over the show. Winkler, having obvious trouble reading his scripts, would improvise some of the dialogue, and when questioned why, he would say he was capturing the ‘essence’.
His frustration with one script led to him cruelly hitting it. Howard took him for a walk one day and told him not to as the writers were doing their best with a tricky job. It gave Winkler a newfound respect for the writer’s craft.
As the Fonz grew in popularity, the big cheeses wanted to change the title to ‘Fonzie’s Happy Days’. Winkler begged them not to as it would diminish the contribution of the rest of the cast. He got his wish.
There is a mention of how that notorious scene which became synonymous with a show outstaying its welcome. Winkler had mentioned to the producers that he was a pretty good water skier, and before long the Fonz was in California on water skis in a leather jacket, naturally, jumping over a shark.
Yes, that phrase ‘Jump the Shark’ eventually got picked up by a college kid, and suddenly everyone was saying this show or that show had reached THAT point in its upward trajectory, and the only way was down.
Inevitably Ron Howard felt more pushed out of the show which had meant to be a vehicle for him, so he went off to become a film director.
Ron and Henry remained firm friends throughout, though when Happy Days finally ended after a hugely successful run, typecasting had left Winkler in a tricky spot. Yes, he tried to break away from the cool Fonz image with films like Heroes, which he made with Harrison Ford, but it proved a hard job.
Winkler’s private life, crashing at the houses of friends in California, including Charles Haid from Hill Street Blues, eventually led to him getting his own place. His romance and eventual marriage is revealed in great detail, partly by his wife, and there are a few cases of over sharing. Hey, it’s an autobiography, but as a guy who has spent some time in therapy, there’s a feeling that writing the book is also a sense of catharsis.
Fast forward to the 1980s and Ron Howard directs his old mate in a comedy called Night Shift with rising star Michael Keaton.
Winkler turns to directing, and though he has a great time helming a Dolly Parton movie, he has a trial by fire with Burt Reynolds, who frankly comes across as a bit of a nightmare. (Can’t help but feel Burt had a beef with Winkler for stealing some of his thunder during his heartthrob years).
Years later Henry is asked if he wants to direct a comedy called Turner and Hooch by one of Hollywood’s biggest cheeses. He jumps at the chance, but it’s clear the powers-that-be aren’t happy with his work and he’s fired.
He’s asked by Wes Craven to appear in Scream, and duly does so, but without a credit on the poster. However, he is asked to do Press, and obviously the film is a huge hit.
The memory of the Fonz starts to fade as Henry ages like a fine wine. Eventually he decides to dictate a story about a kid called Hank Zipzer, whose dyslexia makes him a pretty unique character in a world of kids’ literature. The books become hugely popular, but no US network wants to make a series about a dyslexic kid, so the show is made in Blighty by CBBC. Naturally Henry makes an appearance, while fan Adam Sandler hires him for assorted films.
There’s also the odd curve ball of trivia. For years I’ve been impressed with former Corrie star Jessica Barden, who went on to make brilliant indie gems like Scarborough, and cult TV saga The End of the F****** World. She only went off to marry Henry’s son, which still blows my mind. Imagine having the Fonz as your father-in-law.
Apparently many authors reading their own work for audiobooks are given a couple of days. Henry was given around 100 hours, and it’s that extra attention which really makes his autobiography shine as he savours every word, and occasionally gets carried away with those memories.
I’ll never forget the day a Hollywood icon spent a few minutes telling me about his life and career, and there’s not much difference listening to the audio book, especially his chapter about achieving success in the brilliant comedy drama Barry, which finally landed him a coveted Emmy.
We all wish we could be as cool as the Fonz, even the man who breathed life into him. But Henry Winkler’s own degree of cool is to keep his feet on the ground when he’s one of the hottest stars in Hollywood. And also to stay sane in the years that followed, as well as triumphing over adversity and giving hope to countless young readers who had no idea what Happy Days was.
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