- Ouch. I winced at the torture scene in Casino Royale, in which Bond’s genitals are beaten. The film has been given a 12A certificate, so parents can bring their kiddies along. To get past the censor, the British Board of Film Classification advised some edits of shots concentrating on Bond’s pained face and close-ups of the torture rope.
When I saw it at my local cinema, there were not only some under-12s present, but even a baby. It cried every so often, presumably out of boredom at the 2hr 20min length. The BBFC, by the way, has received complaints about the torture scene.
But the most horrendous scene of all was a shot of a grinning Richard Branson at Miami airport, plus a couple of his Virgin aircraft. His appetite for self-promotion remains undiminished.
Mind you, even the Branson plug was not as sickening as the number of online-gambling ads in the trailers before Casino Royale began. Such a wonderful incentive for youngsters to gamble. Tessa Jowell, our minister for encouraging casinos, would be so happy.
Bet she wishes she was back on good old Five Live.
Fair enough, but there’s a throwaway line at the end of the press release, spotted by The Art Newspaper, which says that running in tandem with the show are 20 photos from Gap’s private collection. They might as well set up a Gap store inside the gallery to flog some clothes, too.
- I had an intriguing chat with the Royal Academician Tom Phillips at a dinner given by the Flowers gallery. Phillips, a keen ping-pong player, told me how Charles Saatchi held table-tennis soirées with him, Salman Rushdie, Alan Yentob and Howard Jacobson at his Eaton Square home. Saatchi even hired a coach to improve his game, but still lost most of his matches.
Saatchi is likely to want to feature Chinese artists in the first show at his new London gallery. I trust he’s better at ping-pong diplomacy.
- Lauren Booth, Cherie Blair’s half-sister, is currently on ITV’s I’m a Celebrity — Get Me out of Here. When she does get out, she’ll have a book to sell. It’s not an exposé of any rumble in the jungle, but a memoir of her time as a 17-year-old living with her dad, the actor Tony Booth. Funnily enough, I’m told it’s not a “life was just misery” book.
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