There was never any time to watch TV when we were young. Nothing much beyond the News at Ten and maybe the odd drama along the way.
Now however, we have discovered the joys of sub-titled drama.In the past we regarded such stuff as too high brow for our low brow desires. Not that we had much energy for desires as work and children sapped our strength.
There is however, a regeneration of television taking place. Television is competing with film once again as directors of note realise that there does not have to be a divide between the big and small screen and stories do not have to be pared down and told in 90 minutes or two hours. They can be told through six or more in a serial.
As if we cannot keep up with demand in our natural tongue, we are importing our drama. First we watched The Killing, Borgen and The Bridge, and now we are hooked on an Icelandic Saga, Trapped.
I like foreign dramas because the subtitles force you to watch. You cannot half-watch, playing on your device, large or small. You have to concentrate, and for that I love it even more.
I never thought Dearest would fall prey to the multi-task of I-padding and watching TV, but he has embraced it in a way that leaves me intensely irritated.
Particularly when the the permutations of plot leave him bewildered and in need of explanation.
I believe the physical act of reading sub-titles keeps him awake for a longer duration while we watch together, although I still keep one weather eye on his drooping ones to ensure he is still with us.
I find that my reading the subtitles aloud often brings him round. Somewhat grumpily, and a tad ungraciously I have to say. Particularly since my Icelandic accent is coming on a treat... I even do different voices for different characters. Male or female. Basso profundo has never been a problem to me. (Though upon reflection, I did many years ago severely strain a muscle in my tongue when doing an impersonation of Louis Armstrong's "Wonderful World" )
Talented or what?
Totally unappreciated..
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