Making light of one of the darkest horrors of the 20th century is a risky business – but a new generation is taking ownership of family histories by making space for human foibles, says an award-winning graphic novelist
My beloved German-Jewish grandmother Gisela was not an affable person. She enjoyed laughing at her own jokes, revelling in the misfortunes of others, and telling people off. If an event combined opportunities for all three activities, so much the better.
When my father was six, he refused to eat the meatloaf that his mother had given him for lunch. Gisela took the piece of meatloaf, now rapidly turning rancid in the Zimbabwe afternoon heat, and served it to him for dinner, and breakfast, and every subsequent meal until he forced himself to eat it. It was the late 1950s – tyrannical parenting was de rigueur, and uneaten meatloaf was the hill that Gisela was willing to die on.
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© Illustration: Astrid Goldsmith
© Illustration: Astrid Goldsmith
© Illustration: Astrid Goldsmith
Richard Rush’s cult 1980 comedy-drama turns film-making into a battlefield, with O’Toole’s imperious director blurring art, war and cruelty in a performance of lasting menace
Richard Rush’s 1980 comedy was always one of the most distinctive items in Peter O’Toole’s filmography, a witty performance as an autocratic movie director that earned him one of his many (unconverted) Oscar nominations. After 46 years, The Stunt Man looks in some ways like a B-side to Lawrence of Arabia, about a possibly, definitely crazy person whose innate gift for leadership is going to endanger the troops much more than himself.
It’s a high-concept satire of … what, exactly? Of the movie business with all its hubris and conceit? Yes, it’s perhaps also an anti-war satire – although it’s more a satire of cinema’s inability to be anti-war when the movies have a vested interest in making war look exciting. But the black comedy and the raucousness are interleaved with weird, fierce stabs of extended seriousness and even anguish.
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© Photograph: Cinematic/Alamy
© Photograph: Cinematic/Alamy
© Photograph: Cinematic/Alamy
The follow-up to My Absolute Darling, this tale of best friends who dream of a better life features exquisite sports writing and a lovable heroine – but the plotting is unconvincing
Tamma and Dan are 17-year-old best friends growing up in a California desert town blighted by the strip-mall nihilism of late capitalism. They’re poor. They’re unpopular. Their families are a wasteland. But they have each other and their great shared passion: trad rock climbing. Whenever they can, they head to a climbing route – sometimes a boulder at the edge of a disused parking lot, sometimes a cliff an hour’s hike into a national park – and climb, often with no gear but their bloodied bare hands and tattered shoes.
This is the premise of Crux, the second novel from Gabriel Tallent, the author of the critically acclaimed My Absolute Darling. At its heart, it’s a sports novel, and Tallent’s prose here is precise and often exquisite, inching through a few seconds of movement in a way that reflects the unforgiving nature of climbing. We get a lot of closeups of granite and faint half-moons in rock that suddenly become “the world’s numinous edge”. The language of climbing – a dialect of brainy dirtbags – is a gift to the writer. Tallent’s characters talk about “flashing bouldering problems” and “sending Fingerbang Princess”; a list of routes with “Poodle” in the title includes Poodle Smasher, Astropoodle, Poodle-Oids from the Deep, A Farewell to Poodles, and For Whom the Poodle Tolls. Tallent also has an extraordinary gift for descriptions of landscape; a road is “overhung with stooping desert lilies, tarantulas braving the tarmac in paces, running full out upon their knuckly shadows, the headlights smoking with windblown sand”.
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© Photograph: VAWiley/Getty Images
© Photograph: VAWiley/Getty Images
© Photograph: VAWiley/Getty Images
From a gold-covered Dennis Rodman to Jack Nicholson sitting in the snow, Albert Watson has spent a career shooting the stars – as well as the occasional giant coffee spoon
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© Photograph: Albert Watson
© Photograph: Albert Watson
© Photograph: Albert Watson
A shortlist of 24 images has been selected for the wildlife photographer of the year people’s choice award. You can vote for your favourite image online. The winner will be announced on 25 March and shown from that date as part of the overall wildlife photographer of the year exhibition, which runs until 12 July at the Natural History Museum in London
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© Photograph: Joseph Ferraro/Joseph Ferraro (USA)
© Photograph: Joseph Ferraro/Joseph Ferraro (USA)
© Photograph: Joseph Ferraro/Joseph Ferraro (USA)
Strangers used to open doors, help lift my pram and greet me with approval when I looked ‘like a mum’. After one simple haircut, I was treated very differently
In November 2000, two weeks after giving birth to my first and only child, I found myself collapsed in bed, breastfeeding in front of Top of the Pops, hair matted, sheets dirty, surrounded by sick-soaked muslin rags. I liked it. Or at least, it felt like a perfectly reasonable thing to be doing, until Madonna – who had given birth to Rocco Ritchie only three months earlier – appeared on the screen in a cropped leather jacket, belly bared, sexy-dancing to Don’t Tell Me. Did I feel inspired? Resentful? Brimming with pity for this attention-seeker? For sure, it was all three.
As the weeks wore on, I began to see how it might be possible to shower, put on actual clothes and maybe even pop to the corner shop. Occasional visits to cafes, museums and other warm, baby-friendly spaces soon followed and stopped me from feeling as if I had fallen into a well of loneliness.
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© Photograph: Courtesy of Anouchka Grose
© Photograph: Courtesy of Anouchka Grose
© Photograph: Courtesy of Anouchka Grose
Pets trained to bite, hold and release on command are growing ever more popular in the UK. But why – and at what cost to the animals and their owners?
Even if you’re not afraid of dogs, you might be a little intimidated by Butch Cassidy. His tail may be wagging, but the Belgian shepherd weighs 40kg and moves with awesome agility. Even a casual brush of his body could knock you off your feet if you weren’t expecting it. “I don’t for a minute think he’s going to bite anyone,” said his owner Grahame Green earlier. “Although he would, if I asked him to.” Now Green’s about to demonstrate.
He brings Cassidy to heel, and gets him to sit. Facing them is another man, Florin, already braced and wearing a protective arm sleeve. The dog is visibly quivering with excitement, so keen is his anticipation for what comes next. Green gives a one-word command, in German. Cassidy darts forward, an auburn arrow, and in that split-second clamps on to Florin’s forearm. Florin is engaging every muscle to remain upright, but Cassidy does not let go until Green gives the word.
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© Photograph: Ali Smith/The Guardian
© Photograph: Ali Smith/The Guardian
© Photograph: Ali Smith/The Guardian
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