KE played KM flawlessly, which means that, according to this story, she played her to maximum irritating effect. This KM is a real pain in the bum and I found myself wishing that somebody would give her a good slapping.
Ah well, life did that to her, I suppose. She got pregnant, lost the man (boy, actually - they were both just babies themselves), lost the baby, married a bloke, left him after the service, met a charming foreign ne'er-do-well, had lots of sex in cheap rooms, contracted gonorrhoea and died. Oh, and wrote some rather good short stories in her short life.
I think she had some fun along the way. You have to hope she did. I'm not sure this KM was much fun to be around. She does, here, talk some terrible drivel. Her mother said: "You're not a writer. You just make things up." You have, I suppose, to make KM up, or a version of her, otherwise there's no point making a new dramatic version of her life.
She rings true enough - to this version, but I'm not sure what it added to my version of KM. It made for good-looking television at least. (It is a particularly fine cardy.)
From now on it will be wall-to-wall or flat screen-to-flat screen rugby heads and prophets of doom and flag-wavers and folk with face paint. I can't say I'll be watching.
I might have gone back to re-read the works of KM while all of that rugby stuff was going on, but now, I don't know ... I've sort of gone off her.
- TimeOut