Why we do not need a 5th Sherlock season


, , , , ,

Nope, we do not need another Sherlock season. We don’t even want it.

I hope I am shocking you, fans, as much I was shocked when I realised it : Sherlock’s glorious days are gone. The latest statements of Martin Freeman about the filming being not fun due to expectations of fans only thwarted the fandom too. (Really, Martin Freeman? Fans enthusiasm and expectations is the reason why you did not enjoy doing it? The fandom gave you stardom and the Hobbit. BTW, wouldn’t you say that it was rather due to poor writing? If fans could have their words and can participate in the writing, please, Mr Moffat, contact me at once, I have some ideas I’d like to pitch to you!)

Now, I have to admit, Season 1 had turned me into a huge fan from the first 5 minutes on. I wrote about it here, talked (a lot) about it, I profusely praised the series in the column I’ve been writing for 5 years… yet the wonder and spectacular scripting of the first episodes faded a bit, as time went by and as seasons were sparingly released (I meant to write : and exasperatingly awaited.)

Sherlock, the unapologetically ubercreative, witty, fun and addictive TV series landed like a UFO in the streaming service world and onto our screens. It revolutionized our idea of the good ol’English genius sleuth and his faithfull-even-when-betrayed partner in crime (pun intended) the good Doctor Watson. It propelled their relationship in the dimension of cyber bromance, verging on being a potential romantic affair, thanks to the numerous queerbaits the audience was fed to fuel feverish speculation about them, and to keep the watchers and fans falling for the show, hook, line and sinker.

Those hints or sometimes heavyweighted assumptions served as a formidable springboard for the tremendously creative, graphic, and/or suggestive fanfiction and fanart (I must admit I have indulged in fanart too, and drew this, John slumped in his armchair, watching an ep of Doctor Who, drunk & feeling empty 2 days after Sherlock’s “death”, see below) that stemmed from the show shortly after it aired. (Crazy fab fanart out there around the internet, just google “Johnlock fanart)

Sherlock 2days after

John, 221b Baker Street, 2 days after. (copyright FlorevaV)

The queerbaiting in Sherlock was a master coup of Gatiss and Moffat, of course, and addressed (while non-adressing it frontally altogether, in a sheer paradox) simultaneously the seemingly non-existent interest of Sherlock for romance and his asexuality, and the weird position of Watson, straight at heart and in his carnal desires and attractions but perceived as gay by others, placing him in the ambiguous zone of bisexuality, a thing rarely exosed in a TV series. Most of the audience fell for it, and shipped Johnlock. (fandom jargon expressing that fans liked the idea of a relationship between John Watson and Sherlock).

Because, let’s face it : the whole show is a romantic show, disguised as a mystery show. It’s all about speculative thinking : Sherlock, Molly and their interaction ;  Watson, Sherlock and their interaction (and they do interact like old married couples, being bluntly honest about each other’s qualities but mostly defaults) ; Sherlock, Irene and their interaction ; Mary, Watson and their interaction, Moriarty, Sherlock and their interaction (probably the most fascinating, yet clumsily dealt with after Moriarty’s suicide)… As for me, I would have liked a more complex ambivalence layered admiration/exasperation  between Sherlock and Lestrade.

Nontheless, one relationship remains the most important of all : Watson, Sherlock and their interaction with us, the audience. The poor audience whose hopes and dreams have been toyed with and crushed, resurrected and crushed again. We have been manipulated, tricked, cheated, shocked, made to laugh and hooked. And we have liked it.

Well, up to the moment where it began to make no sense at all and Mrs Hudson almost crashing sportscar on Watson’s nose fails to mend it. Loopholes were already noticeable in Ep 02 in Season 1, The blind banker. How on earth would the book of yellow pages drenched by the rain outside Soo Lin’s building make anyone link it to a possible smugling of ancient artifacts by Van Coon or the journalist and a potential place for the murder to hide? The writers here took a shortcut and it shows when you rewatch it. Similarly, how could Soo Lin been oprhaned so young, and immigrate to the UK so easily from China, not a country known to issue passports to each of its citizen? Through human smugling? Maybe. Yet, it’s not said and that too falls into the gray zone of laziness.

Facts are here, since the end of season 2, it’s been a slow downward spiral to mild disappointment  due to easy writing (what happened, Moftiss? Too much resting on your laurels?) and bizarre construction of the narrative, culminating in the improbable inner changes of Sherlock (who all of a sudden “cared”, thus becoming at the same time a consumate empath  and the ghost of himself), while Watson “toughtened” up (or maybe he just got bored and cared less), to the point of desenchantment. For him and for the audience. Or maybe it was just that the chemistry that was so enjoyable in the first 3 seasons between Cumberbatch and Freeman had been snuffed out like an candle under the blades of Moriarty’s helicopter… The decrease of the brilliant use of data being displayed on our screens while supposedly typed on a phone, or the analysis Sherlock makes in two seconds being plastered on the image of the person he analyses is also something to be sad about, because it was so enjoyable.

At the time of the last season, an odd thought crossed my mind that maybe the personnal lives of both actors, hitting a major milstone, had changed quite dramatically their mindset and their perspective about their near future  : (ATTENTION : TABLOID MOMENT) Cumberbatch getting married and about ot become a father, happily engaging in family life, and Freeman having left  or leaving his partner (Abbington) of 15 years and mother of his 2 children, thus desenaging himself from family life. I remember thinking that certainly the convos during coffee breaks on the set would have been quite odd, one being so happy and cheerful about his relationship, and the other two only miserable about theirs. In any case, the gloomy atmosphere in the relationship on screen of Sherlock and Watson seemed to reflect the gloomy falling apart of Abbington and Freeman’s couple and the distance between the main male actors. And in an eery way too : shortly before the death of his wife Mary Morstan, Watson flirts with another woman and detaches himself. I dunno, it was just a thougt I had at the time.

Yet the epitome of weird narrative is encapsulated in the so-called Eurus mystery. Seeds have been planted all along to bring us to swallow this Everest of no-sense of Eurus being the “other sibling” devilishly more evil and smarter than her brothers (“The East wind is coming” S03E03, “I’m not given to outbursts of brotherly compassion. You know what happened to the other one” S03E02 (please note the neutral-gender used by Mycroft, a hint that it might be a she), “RedBeard” S03E02, etc).

I don’t know for you, but if Eurus can escape, anytime she wants, her highy guarded prison to trick Watson and impersonates the skrink he sees and the girl on the bus he secretely dreams of having an affair with , then why would she stay stuck in this prison? Makes no sense.

And if she is cleverer than the Holmes brothers together, how can she be needing Moriarty’s help? Makes no sense ( unless you want an anthologic scene with him dancing and being his best villainish self.)

Makes no sense either to see Sherlock painfully blabbing the dreaded words to Molly, as asked by Eurus. It’s painful to watch because the writers have stretched this moment of unease for both protagonists up to its breakpoint, rendering the whole thing just artificial when it could have been more subtle and effective. It’s difficult also not to think of it as a wink to all those who ship Sherlolly. Which is both a blessing and a curse. As it infiltrates the narrative, the show lost a bit of its soul in that moment. This concession to fans may have been “the expectations” that Freeman said killed the fun of it. Yet it is lovely to see that the creators wanted to acknowledge the huge following of the show and in a way, thank them for their loyalty. Not sure it served the show. Once again, Sherlock becoming sentimental, caring about others’ feelings and state of mind, and becoming compasionnate is just plain weird.

So we were left to see Sherlock and Watson reunited once again, “Here are my Baker Boys” ( was it a hint at the 1989 movie the Fabulous Baker Boys? Will Moftiss make a movie out of the series?), exclaimed a videotaped Mary Morstan. From that moment on, Watson is expecting to blog, Sherlock to be bored again, especially now since all the horrendous villains are dead (each being more despicable that the precedent, if you remember, even if we have never heard about any of them in previous episode). Or maybe it could be the other way round, Watson getting so bored he kills himself, and Sherlock could blog about it while raising Baby Rosamund Mary, with Molly, why not…

So, Mofftiss, Gatat, don’t inflict another season on Sherlock’s fans world, please. That’s enough.

Moriarty’s dead, after all.






Teen fiction – My daughter’s first book

There she was, a little shy (public speaking) and determined (achieved NaNoWriMo challenge 2016 and turned it into a full book) at the same time, ready to sign the piles of books neatly stacked before her on the table.

Last Saturday, we hosted a book signing party in a cultural center for my daughter, for her to present her first book. She had finished it before her 14th birthday.

All our friends and her friends and families gathered around her to celebrate her achievement, teachers, colleagues, close friends, dear friends  too.

I am so happy for her.

I remember how at her exact same age, I had decided I wanted to be a writer and a playwright (the latter in order to act in my own plays). Unfortunately, my parents were not as supportive of my talent / dream as I chose (even before her birth) to be for my child.

Sure I wrote things, marketing strategies or communication campaigns in corporate jobs, and texts and poetry for me on the side. I think things would have been quite different if I had received support and encouragement, not jut the odd “whoa, you write so well” from friends, classmates, teachers and weirdly too, my parents.

I think I was born in a time when people around me had this strange idea that you have to get a “proper” job and were oblivious that one can work a “proper” ( as in decent money and occupation I gather) AND still set time aside to write, and be supported to give a try at publishers or poetry magazines. Not once did my family tell me I should continue to write on a larger scale, and finally put that book of poetry together (for starters). Don’t get me wrong, I am not angered or bitter , because I eventually went on to write and publish 4 books (5th novel in the pipes and a book of poetry  about World War 1 on its way).

I am extremely happy that I created such an opportunity for my daughter, first by encouraging her to sign up for the literary challenge, that I did and finished myself, too.

I am so happy that she could experience at such a young age what it is like to see one’s dream come true, an experience she can reap the spiritual and personal benefices on long after the event has taken place.

I bought a giant 2017 grad card and asked every visitor to put a word in it for her. So that she can carry this reminder as a keepsake for the rest of her life, and at any given time draw from it strength, pride, self-esteem and the assurance that she can achieve anything, if need be.

Friends told me ” you must be proud of her’, well, I cannot be proud for something I did not do, can I? But I can be super happy for her and rejoice in her success, and bask in the fact that she is happy, knowing that she put efforts to achieve it. I salute her determination, and her success, and THAT makes me feeling happy for her.

SHE can be proud of herself, yeah, that is hers totally.


Ok, now, I must finish to polish my sci-fi book written during NaNoWriMo 2016…


Wishing you a great success folks in all your endeavours,



“The Hidden Hero”. by HM Storm  on amazon.

Not everyone wants to be a superhero, and not everyone is meant to be one. But sometimes, you don’t have much of a choice, especially if you are the world’s last hope… For four young teenagers, having that kind of responsibility is much harder than they expected it to be, particularly when one of them ends up having more power than anyone could ever imagine. 12 years old Nicolas Hunter doesn’t know how special he is until he accidentally meets four superheroes. Nicolas never wanted the power, but when his only friends get captured by those they tried to stop, what other choice does he have but to save them and everyone else? When the whole world rests on your shoulders, what choice do you have but to save it

Hiddden Hero_


Sherlock’s faked death (should’ve posted earlier, oho).




(Disclaimer : This is a draft I wrote 4 years ago,  can you imagine, 4 years already!!! and forgot/feared  to post. Time has come)

Episode 3 of Season 2. The Reichenbach Fall.

We know what it means, when Moriarty and Sherlock are reunited for the last time around the Reichenbach fall. It means the end of Moriarty and the apparent death of Sherlock. But we, as a baffled audience so engrossed with the show, need to figure out HOW Sherlock did fake his own death.

Many fans have crafted fanvids, and you can find them on YOUTUBE.

Here, I am no developing a theory,  but rather considering elements of clues sprinkled in the episode. The mannekin hanging from the ceiling,the breadcrumbs, the scream of the little girl, the fairy tales references and the book, the gingerbreadman,  the apple and the penknife, the little bouncing ball,  Sherlock saying several times that he’s not himself, Moriarty stating : “You are me” and “I am the storyteller”, fairy tales “and pretty grim ones”, grim or Grimm?,  this statement about changing/false/creating identities, the “I.O.U.” signs , the fake call about Mrs Hudson being shot, Mrs Hudson asking if Sherlock has sorted it all out, Molly’s willingness to help Sherlock in anyway, SH repeating it’s a trick…a magic trick, the buses and the lorry parked at the foot of the building, the various people gathered in front of Barts, the cyclist, the jostle, people preventing JW to touch SH, the song “Staying alive”.) It’s tremendously appealing to play the detective, too, trying to solve the mystery, and later compare with the solution (it’s a long wait until Season 3 is out!) 

We must remember that what we saw, as the audience, may not be what has just happened before John’s very eyes (and not our eyes, because we have seen things that the character John Watson has not seen, and we know things that John does not know). It has the appearance of what our mind thinks has just happened. Like a magic trick. Our mind fills the gap with what it thinks is the logical curse of vents.

Some elements are more relevant than other, that is…well, obvious.

Truth?    Moriarty tells the truth : he is the storyteller, he not only tells fairy tales, but he also plays the big bad villain. He wants Sherlock’s fall (metaphoric and literal). Sherlock, the pure hero on the “side of the angels”, seems to be the puppet in his hands. Yet Sherlock makes his moves and pulls out magic tricks as well.

The roof scene just after Moriarty’s head shot is a key moment, for John and for the audience, because this is the turning point. Stakes have been raised. We know that Sherlock will jump, because, we know that Sherlock wants to spare his friends’ lives : John, Mrs Hudson, Lestrade.  And a body with Moriarty’s face lies seemingly dead besides SH.

Fairy Tales?  Hansel & Gretel?  A false lead, an appetizer. So… obvious. A lot has been said about Hänsel & Gretel. And yet everyone missed Snow White.  

Ok, so Hänsel & Gretel : The breadcrumbs,  The gingerbread man (St Nicholas magazine, 1875) seems a reference to please the American audience, as well as a reference of the material construction of the Witch’s house (gingerbread). The chocolate  factory, a metaphoric Candy, Sugar-coated and Gingerbread house.

And now, much more subtle and satisfying, the discreet references to Snow White (where Snow White is a metaphor for SH) : the apple left by Jim Moriarty, engraved with the letters I.O.U. The new identity of the wicked queen (JM) transforming her appearance, to deceive Snow White, (just as JM created the identity of Rich Brook to deceive the world and the readers of Kitty Riley’s articles). The false proof of Snow White’s death, produced by someone who cared for her (the gamekeeper and the doe’s heart given  to the queen). The empty grave, (no corpse in either case, Snow White was not dead, just asleep) And paying attention to the journalist’s  flat, Richard Brook/JM’s protector,  letters on the wall spell MAKE BELIEVE , 58’23” in the ep (addendum as of today, always wanted to add it, that’s why I never properly properly the post until today).

(Here a point : why would the kidnapper leave so obvious clues  and why would he have gone to the factory, sampled as many particcules for impossible to mistake identification, and returned to kidnap the kids? To plant the doubt in Donovan and Anderson’s mind and therefore to lead Lestrade stop trusting him and finally getting SH arrested. Jim Moriarty plays his favourite game : deception.)

Facts?    Watson sets off for 221b, alarmed by a phone call, (Probably Molly calling),  in the book, he was sent to the inn. Watson  is needed out of the way, in no possibility to protect Sherlock nor to fire a gun at Moriarty. He had to be delayed.

A song : STAYING ALIVE. States pretty clearly Moriarty’s intentions, I think. Deceiving SH. Staying alive and having the world thinking he’s dead. That is clever.

Moriarty confronts Sherlock,on the roof of Barts, at Sherlock’s request. SH : “I am you” , JM : “You’re me”. They both came to play, they share similarities, they both create identities (whereas in the books, SH disguises more often), they both make tricks. And, against all odds, Moriarty fires a gun. MORIARTY pulls a gun and shoots himself, thus preventing SH from getting anything that could stop the gunmen. With his (apparent) death, Moriarty forces SH to the only remaining solution to stop his friends from being shot. 

Sherlock apologizes to Watson, confines him in a location where Watson cannot see the lower part of Barts, and gives him a clue : “it’s a magic trick”. Then, he JUMPS.

Minutes later (how long later, though?), Sherlock is lying on the pavement, motionless, with his head and face covered in blood.

A grave bearing SH’s name.

A newspaper’s headlines about the Death of a FAKE GENIUS. But not a line about Moriarty’s death, “the most dangerous criminal mind”. Wouldn’t MYCROFT and the world not celebrate this fact? Hence, the confirmation that Moriarty’s alive and hiding, just like Sherlock.

Possible explanation : 

Moriarty IS ALIVE, and not dead, he FAKED his own death too, thus forcing SH to jump (if not dead, a possibility remains to make him change his orders to the hitmen).

Sherlock JUMPS, in a net spread below by his “irregulars” (7 persons are seen in the vicinity of his possible landing).

John is jostled by a cyclist and stumbles on the asphalt. How long does he stays knocked out? We have NO IDEA at all (no indication of time, nor close up on his wristwatch). This is the magic of camera and film editing, time elapses and for the audience, it just takes 5 seconds, but in real time, it could be : one minute? 5, 10 minutes, one hour? Watson  is probably watched over by an “irregular,” to be sure he’s blurred/ passed out, but still ok.

During that time, unbeknownst to John, and concealed by the building between them, the irregulars get rid o the net (in the truck?), arrange SH on the pavement, make his head up as if smashed on the pavement, spill the blood (SH’s own?) prepared/provided/taken out of SH’s body by Molly. With the small bouncing ball tucked under his armpit, SH might have slowed down his pulse, to trick Watson in thinking it has stopped.

Irregulars prevent John from approaching too close and staying near SH, making it unable for him to provide  his doctor knowledge/practices.

Moriarty thinks he’s dead, Watson thinks he’s dead. The papers think he’s dead….so it must be true!

Now we have to wait till (thanks film editing) more than 2 years have passed, until SH RETURNS!!!! Ta-Da!!!


(I’ll post about Sherlock, season 4 once I have recovered from the disappointment, stay tuned)

So long, folks.




The nutjob extraordinaire and other stories


, ,

Hello dear readers (hope you are well, if not, quote : you can grab the chocolate bar by the paper . You can do anything. Unquote)

Soooo it’s been as usual ( you must resent me for letting you down so often on this blog thingie in between posts, really, really, please, it’s my entire fault) too long since I last posted something. I can only try to plead a formidable busyness and developments in both my projects and the country I am legally alien (ated?)  And a massive lack of subjects  I thought could be of  interest for you. But since I am such an uncurable ——– (fill in the blank), I thought I might inflict my somber thoughts on you no matter what.

Let’s start with the good : last September, UK once more honored me (I plead guilty your Honor, but I loooove  that) with a prize for a poem called Liberty , written in 2012 -so not on purpose, right? (about withstanding oppression and this little nugget labelled freedom and soon to be out of sight here in the States). (that was my me-time moment)

Yet, after the election of Mr Trumpkopf the First (German variation around Dumkopf, a word  for, how can I put it nicely? ah, yes, d*ckhead), and thinking about it a posteriori, it feelsit was the right thing to submit back then in May and so now, my fellow legal aliens and myself are entering in résistance. Or at least, we think we are. On our small expat level. Maybe just in our heads. First things first.

In that perspective, I am putting together a collection of texts and poems about the trenches, WWI and the absurdity of war , with various angles (like the flowers in the trenches, the Xmas truce, etc), mainly to finish the job started with the Poem “20 years old in 1914” , which won the Burland Prize too in 2014. Anyway. It’s been a project of mine for several years. To be released/published in November 2018.

I have also teamed up with a fellow theatre lover (well, she is the stage director , I am the writer and provider of creative/crazy/are-you-sure-we-can-do-this-on-stage/no way, José ideas. We want to create and produce a play about the many pacifist soldiers that were shot as an example, and were left  unsung, almost forgotten by the Grande Muette /the Great Silent  (this is how the French called the Ministry of War at the time and later, all the Army). We intend to intertwine the spoken text  with either poems, or images, a bouquet of mixed media or multimedia certainly and invite audience from all nationalities to join in the tribute. Because com’on, soldiers shot as  example were not just given this dreadful judgement in France, but also in all belligerent armies…

More news?

Ok, I got my first techno-thriller out on Amazon in November  and as a publisher, I published a collection of texts by 4 expat authors .

Then a bit of ski in Colorado with friends around Xmas (fab weather, 6o inches of gorgeous powder, an absolute winter dream, no one on the slopes, minus 20*C, sun and laughter).

Then back to work, putting together the last chapters (2) of a Sci-Fi novel (well, actually the novel I wrote in November during the NaNoWriMo challenge aiming at writing 50.000 or more words in 30 days or less, which I finished, one day earlier and with more that 50.ooo words (so proud of myself, yep). Said novel is a kinda “cross-fertilization” between 20.000 leagues under the Seas x Indepence day x 1984 (forgive me, it’s my first attempt at Sci-Fi, I have big standards).

Half-good news : Sherlock is back, after 2 years. Honestly, 2 years for that? Sherlock and CO might as well extended their attempt at taking Hollywood, because it was not up to expectations. And this ridiculous idea of the hidden-evil-but smarter sister… Not to mention Moriarty (I wanted him back from the dead or with a devious scheme to resurrect somehow and haunt the peaceful streets of London and Team Sherlock’s sleep) the toy of said sister, willingly and wrongfully scripted, and , last but not least, the disappearing chemistry between the Baker Boys. Nope, no more the wonderful and wondrous connection , the heavy subtext, and the tingling queerbaiting that we, Johnlock shippers loved to decipher. Nada, niet, nothing, nichts…SOOOoOOOOOO disappointing. Still, it’s visible. But the thrill has faded and waned and dissolved (that a lot for one sole thing).

(Nothing left to hold on to help tackle the big event of Jan 20th.)

And then…

Then it was blackout time when the final US election polls were revealed. An era of gloom and doom befell us.

I mean, Brexit had been quite a shock, and all (well, most of, rather) Brits here or there -namely in  Peru in June, in the middle of nowhere on the Altiplano ( I did not expect to stumble upon a journalist and several millenials traveling for fun alone between two jobs, but life is more fun that way) and striking a convo about how dreadful the announce of Brexiters’ victory had been. And so, painfully  and barely recovered from Brexit (BBC had been my endless supplier of prognostics and analysis since March as far as I am concern), BAM!  The Tsunami Trumpkopf hit us.  I fear only the worse can happen in May in France, now.

Trumpkopf has a very nasty way of making his decisions and political moves resembling more and more those of a certain man with a silly little dangerous moustache… America Great again? Dangerously similar to the slogans that reverberated throughout Europe; 80 years ago, in the form of “Making Germany great again”, innit?

And what shall we think of “America First”? Hum? Why not America über alles? Because, that’s what is sounds like and what it seems to derived from…

On a lighter note, I propose we create a Ministry of Silly Jokes and Impossible to put in Operation Ideas served by Utterly incompetent Secretaries..

What? It exists already? How is it called?

Trumpkopf administration?


We are doomed.

My kingdom for a horse (and make it not a dead one, please)!



So…chocolatey Cumberbunnies or Bunnydicts?


, , ,

Bunnydict-FVFox (1)A UK-based chocolatier had the fun (and brilliant) idea to craft and mold chocolate Easter bunnies in the shape of …a rabbit with Benedict Cumberbatch’s face.

The result is stunning, amusing and certainly bound to become a best seller as well as a marketing hottie. In any case, it will be interesting to observe the success of this story (the sales?) and the sprawl of what looks like a potential meme all around. Success key factors all here.

And it has also begun to inspire people around the blogosphere and the cyberspace (and I must admit I could not resist  and I plead guilty of changing within minutes some of the lyrics of the Ronnettes hit “Be my baby” . And yes I had fun doing so).

The subject, the idea, the raw material are so pleasant, how could one not want to comment on that?

All the fans of the actor remember the real-sized chocolate statue representing B.Cumberbatch (made out of 500 Belgian choc bars) exhibited in a London mall, in April 2015. The sculpture had been commissioned as a promotion for UKTV .

The sculpture ended up being eaten (not completely though) by fans and “Chocobatch” sprouted many a question and puzzled gazes among passerbys before they got the audacity to snap bits of chocolate, a finger here, the tip of the nose, a crease of the jacket… resulting in the statue disappearing rapidly. An incredible idea that has found today its sequel in these chocolate bunnies (The Cumberbunny, which wears a bow tie costs £50  or $70)

According to the Chocolatician  website (creator of these sinful treat) : it is “a delicious Belgian chocolate rabbit with a handsome face and a tasty bottom,  weighing 400 grammes, it is hand-glazed with edible lustre dust.”

Another good reason to love the talented Benedict Cumberbatch. Or chocolate. But who needs a reason to indulge in such pleasures?


So long, Folks and friends in chocolate


Order your Cumberbunny here  http://www.chocolatician.com/shop/cumber-bunny

We are all mourners today.


The world mourns not just the victims but the values attached to liberty and the precious gift of life.


I guess the mothers of the suicide bombers mourn their child today and have no answer to ease their pain.

Peace should drive our actions and thoughts today and every day of our life.

Peace and light be with us all, today and forever


I am ffffFrench



What’s on my mind, folks? I tell you what’s on my mind : I am‪#‎ffffFrench‬. I feel more #ffffFrench than yesterday morning. I’ll tell you why. First here’s my quote on this flag, I tinkered and old flag image a bit, recaps well all this.

I see my ‪#‎compatriots‬ in ‪#‎France‬ hit and down, bleeding and dead,
I see their blood on the pavement and the tears, the horrendous use of other humans to kill blindly innocent people,
I see the cowardliness of so-called noble fighters who call themselves defenders of integrity, who only prove once more that violence organises their “model” society and show the limits of their hypocrisy.
I see a people who has fought bitter battles in the past,and has won, alongside others or for others, I recall Lafayette helping the American young nation getting its sovereignty, I could name Malplaquet and Dorylaeum, the battle of the Chesapeake, the battle of the Vosges, Lodi, all the battles between 1914 and 1918, Koufra and Bir-Akeim, Operation Dragon and the Battle of Normandy, the terrorists attacks in Paris in 1995 and the Charlie hedbo tragedy…
I see the flag of freedom punctured by the poisonous stakes of hate,
I see my blood running in my veins bleeding onto this beloved flag to give it its red color.
Let me explain the flag that I cherish : there is the blue for the eternal skies of freedom that every human being should be able to enjoy above his head,
there is the white, like the immaculate page onto which my compatriots and any lover of freedom can write their own sacred story, and there is my favorite colour : the red. Like the blood of life, the blood of anonymous heroes fallen and not forgotten, and innocent people randomly killed and martyrs of liberty. Red, like the fire and the passion with which we fight back. Unafraid.
For one who falls, seven stand up.
Because we are ffffFrench. As in free, fighting-fit, free-thinking, fearless French. It’s in our blood. Even when it stains the streets, it remains the blood of ‪#‎liberty‬

I am also friendly, fun, frank, and now, fortified.

Be well you all and fear not.


A new title and another new title

Hey folks

I think I owe you an explanation as for my long silence>

Firstly , I discovered, much to my own disappointment, that I am not as regular in posting as I wish/think/ hoped I would be. (How annoying is that? DO you also have issues in posting? for most of what I see, apparently not).

I must perk up my  discipline I guess or overcome my shyness to write in English, because being not a native speaker, I sometimes feel I should not pretend I can write proper English, elaborate balanced and interesting sentences like, say Mrs Woolf did so well.

Anyway , I try my best and I hope your are kind enough not to stumble upon each of my mistakes or grammatical errors. (thank you again a thousand times).

Yet I have ideas for a post and I guess the everyday life is an easy escape to not sit and open the dashboard, as I might stare, blankly winking at the screen, in search of the perfect words combo.

In my own little brainy world and fairy words pool of thoughts, I have produced already hundreds of oh-so-interesting (hopefully) posts… That never went out of  the tip of my fingers sliding on the silent keyboard to see the light. The one post about writing poetry and daring to say you actually write such thing, the one about how words empower us or free us, writers or not, the one about people struggling to connect with their emotions, the one about seeing one’s parents ageing and how to tackle the ugly beast of Time eating us up in the end, the beauty we find in every little thing, provided we look harder and deeper…


I ‘ m sure I am not the only one, and we can rejoice in the fact that nonetheless our friends and kindred spirits on the blogo are kind and forgiving and understand that we achieve sometimes less in a given field but more in the other…

By the end of August 2014, I had the immense joy to receive the 1st prize of Poetry (category French) of the David Burland International Prize (again, yes) for my Poem “Vingt ans en Quatorze” (Twenty years old in 1914) and it has been featured in a CD, read by Michel Francois (magnificently I must say, he conveyed  the emotion very well).

Last March, I set up and founded my publishing company  to publish my last Opus, Quarantaine Blues…. Yeah, my rules, my company, my publishing calendar, no “Your manuscript got lost in the cyberspace when you sent it to us” (seriously? yes, prev publisher told me that, and….hum, I doubt they even read it when  I sent it a second time, since they did not answered in 7 months, after they promised to publish it in Sept 2014).  Too bad for them, because it is selling well , has been featured in 3 articles so far, and will be circulating in various books clubs, will be in two other blogs soon…

I released another book under another pseudonym in April,  and I did not participate in the Burland Prize this year.

And today I received the proof copy of my next book to be published, a techno-thriller of a new genre, ecologic if you please.

Many typos to correct but it shall be ready for uploading  on Amazon next week…

And a poet friend asked to have her works published via my publishing company (as she is talented and the poems are very well crafted, the style is perfect, the grammar impeccable and the whole thing extremely well written and as she fits in the editorial line, I agreed).

So kinda busy lately, no time to post, but good rehearsal in my thinking head…

Hope you folks are doing well despite this rainy weather ( as for me, I love the rain, always have and have been very weary of the severe droughts we experienced here in Texas in 2010-13), so long rainy days and the musical sound of the drops drumming on the windows are pure joy. ( I love the sun too)

Wishing you a lovely day, dear friends I bid you goodbye and till my next post and leave you with this picture…






Hi folks

long time no talk but today just had the great empowering online meeting with kindred spirits and fellows writers and you know what?

It feels good, oh yes, does it feel right and good…

yes it feels good to see that just a simple chat about our experiences can boost our morale and our stamina and help us want to blog again, because as you’ve noticed I’ve been rather silent lately…. And many things have occurred in between.

Ok , talk to you soon dear fellow odd-jobbers

have a FABULOUS day


Quarantaine Blues featured in Le Petit Journal and HoustonExpatPro



Articles about my book about midlife crisis and identity crisis and expatriate situation (the action is set in London) have been published lately in one online magazine (another one soon to follow) and on the website of Entrepreneurs Expatriates and I am very happy about it. And grateful to the journalists who wrote them. The following days the book sales did well and it is very rewarding and this boosts the morale! I wish for every writer to experience it.


I also had an interview with a  French blogger based in Shanghai (soon to be back in France for the next 3 years) last Thursday.

Last month I also got interviewed live on a radio show in Vienna, on the radio of a French speaking radio program. The radio show is Les Sardines Francophones. The radio host, Claire, wants to do a more detailed interview and I will be meeting with here in Vienna in July.

She was very interested in the book, even saying that some points featured in the article in le Petit Journal echoed with her life as an expat woman.

As a writer and a blogger she also gave me good advice and assured that I should put together a blogtour of my book.

I had thought about it, but had no precise idea where to begin, and I am mostly connected with English writing bloggers or writers.

Here are the links to the articles :

Le petit Journal


Here also a link to my bio if you were interested in learning a little more about me 😉


I will keep you posted, folks!

BTW, If you are a blogger (or know one) blogging about writing and/or expatriation and /or London, and willing to do a review or my book I will be happy to get in touch with you and provide you with a full Q&A and synopsis of the book!

Thanks for your support, I am glad my endeavours finally got the results I wanted!

Hope yours get you to meet your dreams.


Comment ça, une crise de la quarantaine? (A midlife crisis ? What are you talking about ?)


, , , , , , ,

Midlife crisis2This time, the post will be in French. (Translation in English later)

La crise de la quarantaine. 

Ah, chers lecteurs et lectrices en plein marasme quarantenaire ou autre-naire (si vous lisez ce post, c’est que cela vous chatouille, ou alors vous êtes dans un autre genre de crise, mais crise quand même ou alors vous êtes mes fidèles followers pas encore fâchés de mon silence si loooooong, d’aileurs à ce propos, sorry, been over busy)

Une crise, donc.

Vers 40 ans, a priori.

Un peu avant, ou un peu après; comme cela vous tombe dessus.

Parce qu’on ne choisit pas. Ce serait trop facile. pas fun sinon, hein.

Un adage très sage (comme tous les adages, du reste) dit que si l’on n’a pas fait 14-18 on fera 39-45. L’image est assez vraie. Pas de crise d’ado, risque de crise en milieu de vie. Car la crise doit avoir lieu, pour que la chrysalide se transforme en papillon.

Bon, c’est dit.

Après, l’avantage de se payer une bonne crise 39-45, c’est que généralement, on a établit des trucs du genre “poids lourds” dans sa vie avant, une vie conjugale-maritale-familiale bien remplie, des enfants, une profession, une maison, un emprunt sur les bras, des voitures, des traites, des fights avec le conjoints toutes les trois semaines (faut être organisé dans la vie, comme ça pas de surprise), des demandes de rangement des chambres quotidiennes et non-abouties (à ce jour), un plan retraite, une résidence secondaire dans 20 ans, une visite à la belle-famille réglée comme du papier à musique, ces vacances avec les copains par-ci ou par-là, mais deux fois par an, des programmes nutritionnels diétético-loisirs questionnables mais ludiques (pizza-night en regardant Despicable Me 2, ou Frozen pour la 36e fois….).

Et on a des preuves que le temps passe vite : des envies de revivre ses 20 ans (si l’expérience fut bonne), des pots de crèmes à tartiner sur la figure trèèèèèès chers, pour effacer les rides (meuuuh si ça marche, à 150 dollars le pot, on VEUT y croire), on ne boit plus la  piquette du copain vigneron corse mais des grands crus (estomac fragile, tu sais bien), on trouve la bière limite has been, on porte des perlouses aux raouts de la boîte de son mari, on ne peut plus faire une nuit blanche sans avoir d’un fantôme décalqué par les évènements ou par deux coupes de champ’, on a du mal avec Lana del Rey ou One Republic (euh pas mi, je suis fan des deux), on rêve encore en cathodique parfois et on se rappelle même que les biscuits Lu, à un moment on les appelait Biscuits Lefèbvre-Utile.

Voilà tous le genre de matos qu’on s’apprête à remuer de fond en comble pour trouver une réponse à ses angoisses existentielles (si si, c’est angoissant et ça touche à la raison d’être) et dans certains cas extrêmes, à fourguer à la benne de la crise de milieu de vie.

Et ça fait peur, hein?

Yup, ça fiche plus les jetons que 14-18.

Parce qu ‘on a des res-pon-sa-bi-li-tés. Bien plus qu’avant. Voooui.

Il n’y a pas un profile particulier qui serait plus catalyseur de la chose. Expat ou au pays (expat dans mon cas), homme ou femme (devinez), en couple ou solo, heureux ou non, exerçant le job de ses rêves ou pas (ben comment dire…), personne ne sait si une crise identitaire ou personnelle se fera jour dans sa vie.

Ni à quel âge, ni pourquoi (quoique, on a des idées la-dessus), ni combien de temps…

Longtemps le mythe a persisté que cette crise que l’on pense passagère (genre deux semaines et hop, partie) et inoffensive (ça ira mieux demain,darling), ne touche que la gent masculine.

Mauvaise nouvelle : le gène de la crise de la quarantaine n’existe pas et s’il existait, il serait unisexe. Ce virus angoissant frappe au hasard, sans se soucier de votre background, ni de votre sexe, ni des histoires des individus qu’il touche, ni des circonstances ou des ocnditions (économiques, familiales, maritales, professionnelles).

Les femmes sont de plus en plus sujettes à ce phénomène ou au moins osent davantage le dire, et explorer ce qui se passe dans leur vie quand cela arrive.

Ce n’est pas facile de s’avouer qu’on traverse (ou qu’on stagne dans) une crise de milieu de vie.

D’abord,ce n’est pas drôle du tout ; ensuite, c’est déstabilisant ; enfin, on n’a pas tellement de mots pour exprimer cela. Très souvent, on s’étonne de devoir faire rentrer ce mal-être dans ces mots qu’on pensait réservé aux hommes et aux clichés que cela comporte (il a plaqué sa femme pour une jeunette de 20 ans, c est le “démon de midi”, ça ne peut arriver qu’ aux hommes ça, blablabla. Mi, j’ai une cops qui a plaqué son mari pour une jeunette de 20 ans, tuvois, ça n’arrive pas qu’aux hommes). Et cela peut être tellement différent; il n’y a pas qu’une forme de symptômes pour ce mal-être. C ‘est plus complexe , tellement de choses sont connectées à ce malaise qu’oan a du mal à cerner…

Ce n’est pas toujours explicable. Doit-on faire comme si cela n’existait pas, comme si on ne subissait pas cet vertige déroutant?

Eh bien non, amie lectrice, camarade de crise, qui te poses des questions existentielles pareillement que d’autres.

Il faut se les poser les questions, sinon, cela revient; Le problème revient toujours nous exploser à la figure jusqu’à ce qu’on ai trouvé une solution satisaisante. Pas pour les autres pour les rassurer, non satisfasante en profondeur pou rsoi-même.

Le temps est court, comme la vie, et on tout à gagner à se remettre en selle et trouver sa voie.

Parce que c’est tellement irrationnel, cette peur de gâcher sa vie ou de l’avoir déjà un peu gâchée, savoir si on répond a son “true calling ” (sa vocation), il est important de se pose les bonnes questions et affronter la réalité, surtout si elle n’est pas rose. Comme dit mon amie Tracy : “if Mama ain’t happy, nobody ain’t happy”. (si la Maman n’est pas heureuse, personne n’est heureux).

Les errances personnnelles  de l’âme sont si profondes et intenses parfois, que cela peut prendre des années et un livre pour les comprendre et peut-être en les surmonter, à défaut d’en venir à bout…

Bon cheminement intérieur, si vous en êtes là…

Floreva  (pour écluser le problème, mi, j’en ai fait un bouquin, placé l’action à Londres, cela m’a prit 4 ans et demi à m’arracher les cheveux, des crises de paniques, des larmes, des angoisses, perdu 25 lb (13 kilos) dans le process, des nuits blanches et enfin, l’apaisement par l’écriture. Alors, oui ça existe, oui c’et flippant, mais oui aussi, on s’en sort. J’ai mis des mots sur mes maux) Et plein d’amies et d’amis m’ont dit : “ah, ce que vivent tes persos Alastair et Vivienne, je le vis aussi, c’est dingue!”

Ce n’est pas dingue, c’est humain, c’est plus courant qu’on le pense et pas si grave, quand on sait c’est qui arrive… Mais si on ne prend pas le temps de se comprendre, ça peut devenir très sérieux et tragique, parfois..

C’est ici :  http://goo.gl/x2zaeL

en version kindle ou paperback sur Amazon.com


Busy busy, London and a poetry prize


, , , , , ,

Hi folks

well, it’s been a long pause, not only because of summertime.

The time between the last post and this one saw many changes in me, for me and those around me, long story short : all areas are impacted : friends, family, health, work, personal and less personal, adjustments and all along with me in this adventure : the emotional roller coaster (not just me, but the ones close to me too).  

To stay afloat and remain “zen” one solution >> meditation and deep breathing. Even moved houses >> paint job ongoing!

Good news is I focused more on writing and career and reached the final sentence of 2nd book (drama novel), on which I had been working for more than 3 years and a half. Sent to publisher, there will be some editing, but the baby has safely been delivered.

Secondly, personal growth (always good I should say) and greater clarity about career path, and side tracks, new ideas and new friends (kindred spirits,  who cannot like that?) and business partnership taking shape (oh Joy).

Thirdly, glorious time in London (work, research, friendships and a bit of craziness with sister >>>delightful). In LDN I met incredible people, went to incredible venues and parties and even was invited to the ceremony of lawyers being called to the bar in one of the 4 Inns, it was fantastic, saw old friends, made new ones and got to make new acquaintances, went for a drink at the Aquashard  and had dinner at the Oxo Brasserie with lil sis. Went to Chichester theater Fest, attended talks and strolled the hills of the Heath. Even went to see the last live show of the Monty Python gang! Such fun! Monty Pythoned since an early age, I could not miss it.


Oh the glorious, glorious time!

20140731_142429                 20140731_141921

And lastly, my poem  “Vingt ans en Quatorze” (Twenty years old in 1914) received the 1st Prize, category French, from the David Burland Poetry Prize, based in the UK. Great honor and deep joy.

Happy? More than that!

Adios, Pharrell Williams ! You can stay in your room, because I M HAPPY and I am the one who set fire to the dancefloor  this 18th of August when the results were published!

My mind is bursting with ideas, I am finishing another story (ebook maybe?) and a set of short stories for lit comps.

Developing a certain project also,  that has nothing to do with the written word and it make me feel good too,  I am a bit tired but am bursting with energy on a creative level.

Hope you are feeling energised too, and supremely so!

So long folks! Be successful, stay safe, create and nurture well your body, spirit, and mind.


Upcoming FF


HI readers


here are some new FF you can participate to; check the websites for additional info

enjoy and happy submitting!

Los Angeles, New York, Chicago, San Francisco, Tulsa – USA
London – England
Year-Round Festival

Rolling Deadline, No Entry

The United Film Festival aims to unite time-honored wisdom and innovative perspective in order to create, curate, and connect modern independent films with a global audience.

The United Film Festival began in Tulsa in 2002 and then spread to Los Angeles and New York in 2007 and next to San Francisco, Chicago and London in 2009. It was founded by producer, Jason Connell, whose credits include Strictly Background, The Rock-afire Explosion, Holy Rollers, and GLOW: The Story of the Gorgeous Ladies of Wrestling. The festival has a rich tradition of screening independent films and has gained a respectable reputation in just a few short years. Film Threat described UFF as “a festival you can’t miss,” and it was voted as one of the “25 Coolest Film Festivals” by MovieMaker Magazine. Don’t miss out…submit your film today!

East Hampton, New York – USA
October 9 to 13, 2014

With an incredible legacy and a host of press opportunities at the ready, HIFF is where big talents flock to be discovered, year after year. Most filmmakers in competition receive complimentary travel and accommodations in East Hampton, one of America’s most tony getaways. In just the last few years alone, HIFF has welcomed industry legends Meryl Streep, Joel and Ethan Coen, Mike Nichols, Harvey Weinstein, Jessica Chastain, James Franco, Richard Gere, Susan Sarandon, Spike Jonze, and more. For A-list talent and up-and-comers alike, HIFF offers an unbeatable backdrop for collaboration and conversation.

Resolutely committed to encouraging new filmmakers who possess extraordinary vision, HIFF provides financial grants to outstanding student filmmakers at the collegiate and graduate school levels. Previous winners in this esteemed category include James Ponsoldt (The Spectacular Now), and Academy Award-winning screenwriter Geoffrey Fletcher (Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire).

May 5, 2014 – Regular Deadline

HIFF celebrates independent film and introduces a unique and varied spectrum of international films and filmmakers to its audiences.

HIFF is not just a thrilling festival experience; it’s a proven prognosticator for Oscar gold. Recent HIFF highlights have included Oscar-nominated shorts Get a Horse!Asad, and Head Over Heels, and long-form Academy favorites including 12 Years a Slave, The Artist, Her, Silver Linings Playbook, Argo, The King’s Speech, The Descendants, and more.

Whether you’ve created a top-tier short film or a fantastic feature-length narrative or documentary film, submit it to HIFF today, and join in on one of the best celebrations of cinema on the festival circuit!






« And the Oscar goes to … » 2014 Edition


(Please find hereafter the article I wrote for the French Newsletter)Image

Comme chaque année, la cérémonie des Oscars entraine un buzz médiatique qui va croissant avec les années et les dernières applications technologiques innovantes .

Avant, pendant et après . Meme si le nombre de spectateurs TV dudit évènement s’effrite au profit d’un suivi sur la TV internet.

Avant : pronostic et présentattions des films en compétition , bio des acteurs et réalisateurs ( un petit scandale est toujours le bienvenu, Scarlett Johansson cette année en a fait les -minimes et très calculés- frais.) Annonce des nominations et des présentateurs (hosts) du lieu et comparaison rétrospective de type fashion des participants des années précédentes (la décade est favorisée comme plus propice à la comparaison de l’évolution du style de telle ou telle actrice)

Pendant : pronostic de dernière minute, détail des tenues et bijoux de ces dames en direct, glose sur le style vestimentaire de ces messieurs (le smoking est il soluble dans le style plage? Le Bermuda-smoking de Pharell Williams cuvée 2014, porté sans chaussettes, laisse songeur).

Comme pour tout, certains connaissent les règles -trop subtiles apparemment- du smoking et du bon gout et d’autres… eh bien, autant n’en rien dire.

Idem pour ces dames, qui portent des tenues prêtées pour l’occasion, tout comme les bijoux. Mais le risque est plus limité, le show servant de vitrine aux createurs, établis ou montants, il y a moins de risque de dérapage.

Dernier pronostic aussi avant que le présentateur vedette n’ouvre les festivités, avec plus ou moins de bonheur, là aussi.

Dernières pauses devant les flashes sur le tapis rouge.

Après , ça continue encore: les news télévisées, les journaux -papier et online-, les magazines, les blogs, les réseaux sociaux…tous relaient les résultats, qui sont immédiatements commentés et parfois deviennent “viral” (la fameuse jambe d’Angelina Jolie en 2012 avait eu un nombre de retweets et de commentaires phénomenal). Les magazines de mode proposent alors, outre le passage à la moulinette des détails du style des actrices (maquillage, vêtements , chaussures, bijoux, etc…), des « knock-off » pour copier lesdits styles pour un prix bien plus modique, on s’en doute, piochés dans des marques plus grand public, chaussures et pochettes de soirée compris.

L’arrivée de twitter et de facebook ont boosté les interactions entre l’industrie (toutes catégories confondues) et le public . Les acteurs se pretent au jeu, postent des selfies (autoportraits) sur leur profile de résaux sociaux, commentent, indiquent leur humeur, leurs attentes , ce qu’ils ont pris au déjeuner et qui les habillera, voire , appellent aussi à soutenir quelque cause ou événement politique ou autre. Le selfie de Ellen DeGeneres a fait tourner les moulins de twitter et les commères pendant toute la nuit, presque 3 millions de tweets . Pub fantastique pour les parties concernées, not so sure pour le prestige de la cérémonie.

L’évènement , presque confidentiel et très codifié à ses débuts (15 minutes le 16 mai 1929 , host Douglas Fairbanks,  12 catégories, 270 invités) , est devenu au fil du temps un vrai show à l’americaine, de presque 4h, dont la liste des catégories s’est allongée pour atteindre 29 à ce jour , dont 5 « Special » ; les 3332 sièges du Kodak theater récemment lieu d’accueil ne sont jamais vides). Certaines catégories ont d’aileurs été éphémères ( ex. : Best Dance Direction, Best Original Musical or Comedy Score ,…). D’autres sont régulièrement proposées (ex. : Best casting). On a adjoint à cette cérémonie purement grand écran des éléments de la télévision, par les présentateurs d’abord, ou des stars du petit écran, puis des numéros comiques et enfin, des chansons. C’est, littéralement, le cirque  quand en 1992 David Letterman ( The Late Show with David Letterman) produit un numéro -pathétique- avec des chiens dansants pour remettre à Tom Hanks  -dubitatif -sa statuette pour sa prestation de Forrest Gump.

Et en 2014, on n’a pas peur d’innover dans le genre « no-limit-au-n’importe-quoi » avec un “selfie”, justement, sur scène de la part de la présentatrice et TV star Ellen DeGeneres (qui a l’air impromptu, mais en fait a été minutieusement répété) pour promouvoir la marque d’un téléphone. Cela surprend de prime abord, et puis on apprend que ladite marque a déboursé $19 millions pour s’assurer que les cameramen captureront bien le nom et la génération du téléphone en question. A ce tarif-là, on s’affranchit de ses scrupules, quitte à écorner à la fois le mythe et marcher sur les pieds de la vénérable vieille dame de 86 ans. N’est-ce pas Madame Ellen ; n’est-ce pas Monsieur le Groupe Coréen diversifié Electronique , Automobile, Constructeur Naval, Téléphone Mobile , etc…Passons sur l’épisode pizza, certes inattendu et sympathique, mais inapproprié, dans ce contexte, meme si Brad Pitt a montré une simplicité et une promptitude à distribuer les parts remarquables. Ellen est une femme généreuse, elle le rappelle devant les caméras avec le « tip » qu’elle quête auprès de ses amis les professionnels de cette industrie . Elle aurait pu lui partager son pactole téléphonique et épargner cette ridicule prestation. (Surtout quand on sait que la Vanity Fair Party qui suit traditionnellement ne propose pas que des chips aux invités : en 2014 ; il y a eu : cupcakes customisés, macarons caviar-crème fraîche, salade crabe-avocat, tourtes de volaille-champignons, lasagne à la truffe noire, donuts et café. Bref.)

Cela donne une curieuse impression de populisme d’empereur romain mégalomane. Mais enfin, cela illustre parfaitement ce que veut le public : du pain et des jeux. On est au cirque, à cette minute-là, Panem et Circenses, cela prend toute sa dimension.

Au fil du temps, on a vu de drôle de choses, aux Awards, comme l’utilisation de l’évènement à des fins politiques ou des appels à prise de conscience . Des hiatus qui donnent souvent lieu a de nouvelles règles. Notamment , c’est à cause de Marlon Brando et Sasheen Litllefeather  (par ailleurs fausse Apache et vraie actrice) que les vainqueurs de la statuette dorée sont obligés de venir en personne chercher leur récompense, et non d’envoyer une délégation et ne sont plus qutorisés à lire un speech de critique de 15 pages en déclinant, en plus , ladite récompense (1972, pour le Parrain).

1977 avait été marqué par le discours controversé (contre le fascisme , l’anti-sémitisme et le sionisme) de Vanessa Redgrave. 

2013 avait vu déjà un fléchissement avec une cérémonie -traditionnellement et jusqu’à lors-  dénommée 85th Academy Awards rebaptisée Oscars 2013 (nom officieux). Les puristes en auraient avalé leur carton d’invitation.

Depuis 2001 et le speech de 4 minutes de Julia Roberts , nous savons que le temps de parole pour le discours d’acceptation est calibré et que le « stick man » le rappelle en coulisse.

En 2014, les résultats sont un peu décevants, pour les cinéphiles exigeants, et il est clair que souvent le succès commercial ou que les a-priori des votants sur leurs collègues pèsent davantage dans la séléction et le choix final que les qualités intrinsèques du film, qui devraient être évaluées impartialement.

Que « Gravity » remporte l’oscar Best Cinematography (Photo),  Best Editing (Montage) et Best Visual Effects (Effets Speciaux) reste un mystère (on en reparle dans 10 ans), quand le premier semblerait davantage devoir revenir à « The Secret Life of Walter Mitty » (hélas non sélectionné), le deuxième n’aurait pas déparé «Her» ou « The Secret Life of Walter Mitty » et le dernier aurait du revenir à «Her». Quant à « Nebraska », une catégorie spéciale aurait pu être créée, comme parfois cela arrive, Best Original Cinematography . Et la categorie Best Sound (bande son) devait revenir à « 12 years a slave ».

Dans un autre genre :  « Lego the  Movie » est formidable : la chute est excellente ; le scenario, parfait et l’auto-dérision, déléctable. Et « Budapest Grand Hotel » est sorti trop tard ; et c’est tant mieux pour Gravity, qui sans cette sortie tardive n’aurait pas fait le poids et aurait été balayé et remisé au placard des anecdotes de science-fiction-pseudo-thriller mal ficelées.

12 years a Slave a mérité ses récompenses; même si les pointes de complaisances de son réalisateur sont un poil irritantes et Dallas Buyers Club , comme Nebraska , apportent une vraie gravité, pour le coup (sans jeu de mot), à une industrie qui contemple trop souvent le succès facile comme un gage de qualité. On perd un peu de l’esprit fondateur de l’évènement, qui  malheureusement en cours de route, a récompensé des films a posteriori très décevants ou surévalués, et en a oubliés d’autres qui méritaient amplement leur statuette dorée.

Oscar Trivia :

*Chaque statuette pèse 6,75 pounds (3 ,61kg ) et mesure 13 ,5 inches (34 ,29cm)

*Discours le plus long : Greer Garson pour Mrs. Miniver (1943) : entre 5 et 7 minutes  selon les sources

*Seuls 5 films ont remporté , à ce jour, le « Big Five » (Best Picture , Best Director, Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Screenplay : It Happened One Night (1934) ; One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest (Vol qu dessus d’un nid de coucous)(1975), The Silence of the Lambs (1991)

*Ben-Hur (1959), Titanic (1997), et The Lord of the Rings : The Return of the King (2003) sont les films les plus récompensés, remportant chacun 11 oscars. Le Seigneur des Anneaux est le seul a avoir remporté tous les oscars pour lequel il a été séléctionné.

*Acteur le plus fréquemment séléctionné: Jack Nicholson (12 nominations, 3 victoires)

*Actrice la plus fréquemment séléctionnée : Meryl Streep (18 nominations, 3 victoires)

*Actrice la plus récompensée : Katrine Hepburn (4 victoires)

*Discours les plus courts : Patty Duke 1963 pour The Miracle Worker. etAlfred Hitchcock : « Thank you »

*Temps imparti à chaque vainqueur : 45 secondes. Certains débordent et sont coupés par : le présentateur, l’orchestre, une bande-son qui démarre, un extrait du film, leur émotion incontrolable.

*La Costume Designer Edith Head a été séléctionnée 35 fois pour 8 victoires (Sabrina , All about Eve, The Heiress, Samson and Dalilah, A Place in the Sun, Roman Holiday, The Facts of Life, The Sting)

* Walt Disney a reçu 22 oscars (pour 59 nominations)

* 6000 votants sélectionnent les potentiels vainqueurs

* Depuis 1989 ; on ne dit plus « And the winner is… » mais on annonce : «  And the Oscar goes to… », par égard pour les autres nominés. Eux, ils pourront reprendre une part de pizza. Donnée par Brad Pitt.

Bon film!