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Argo is a go-go

Such a treat this afternoon. I actually managed to concentrate so hard (probably adding to my deep forehead lines) that I finished work at 3pm and dashed down to Clapham Picture House with my beau to watch Ben Affleck’s masterpiece, Argo…

Not only did we bunk off work early, make the most of E’s after school club and order a Rekorderlig in the bar before the movie, we were also (unwittingly) at a “silver screening”: free tea and biscuits for the over-60s (we didn’t qualify) and Matt got to make an excellent joke about an elderly man who took a little tumble being drunk on fig rolls. A couple of the pensioners were asleep by the end of the film. We weren’t.

I’ve always felt a bit sorry for Ben Affleck. He’s made so many howlers, the Bennifer (Lopez not Garner) situation was an embarrassment and although I always wanted to appreciate his acting, his wooden performances made me think he went to the Joey Tribbiani school of acting (his range stretching as far as pretending to do a really hard maths problem).

But he’s ramped it right up with Argo, which he directs and stars in. Beard, flicky hair, 70s wardrobe and torso-flash aside (hubba bubba), the film is beautifully directed and has unexpected (if dark) humour. Alan Arkin is as wicked as ever, John Goodman is fabulous and in a further burst of Friends-based nostalgia, Tate Donovan (aka Joshu-waah) pulls a blinder.

Ben gets hunky, 70s-stylee – and I spy Joshu-waah

I predict a best director gong or two. I’m usually wrong (apologies, Ben) but you never know. And go see it: it’s put Matt off even going to Turkey again, but if you love a good, old-fashioned, edge-of-your-seat, politically-tinged drama, with many-a fake moustache, you’ll bloody love it.

Film stills by Claire Folger ©2012 Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc.

Written by Johanna Payton