On the plane back from San Francisco I whiled away the hours by trying to watch The Prestige. I had to contend with a tiny screen in the back of the seat in front and some earphones that interrupted the sound when wobbled in their socket - something they did with ease.
Despite all of the discomfort, I enjoyed the film. I'd been hoping to see it for some time. It's based on, and follows quite closely, the novel by an old friend of mine, Christopher Priest.
Yesterday, I got the opportunity to see The Prestige properly, or at least as properly as a DVD on Patsy123's little TV could provide. It really is a terrific film, cleverly plotted and beautifully dark and moody. The structure of the novel has been altered slightly to keep secrets hidden until the very end, and this really does work to its benefit.
As an aside, I've read a number of comments about the "ludicrous" nature of David Bowie's accent (he plays the real-life scientist, Nikola Tesla), but this just seems like knee-jerk bitchiness. It's not a big part, but I thought Bowie handled it with sympathetic underplaying.
Finally, for those who've never come across Chris's fiction, I heartily commend it to you.