So imagine my disappointment when Series 6 came on the screen a month ago and left the impression of a tired school reunion with all the alumni pretending that they’ve still got it. When they obviously haven’t…

There were only three episodes in this latest series. I wasn’t sorry to see it end. That was a strange reaction for me since I really, really admired the first five series. I even bought the boxed set.

But I won’t be buying this latest series, unless Series 7 renews my faith in the whole thing.

I must admit that I was stunned by the lacklustre acting of Honeysuckle Weeks as Sam Stewart who had been such an asset in the previous series. Even Michael Kitchen in his reprise as Foyle seems to be weary too. The verve is gone. The plots are convoluted and there is something definitely missing.

I suspect that the missing factor is the war itself. This series covers the period after the Second World War and the sense of patriotism and urgency are missing. There’s little excitement and hardly any suspense. Sam Stewart, DCS Foyle and Detective Sergeant Paul Milner look lost and disenchanted as if they are going through the motions because all their fans demanded more of “Foyle’s War.”

What a shame that they could not recapture the brilliance of the past series! I remember that John Cleese explained that he only made 12 episodes of “Fawlty Towers” because he had done what he wanted to. And he did not want to spoil the effect by dragging out the comedy.

It’s possible, therefore, that in bowing to the pressure of their fans such as yours truly, Anthony Horowitz who created the series which was produced by his partner, Jill Green, tried too hard but unfortunately failed to reproduce that enchantment that we had come to expect.

Perhaps Series 7 will be better.

The following extract comes from Sky News March 1

Australian insurers are leading a call for compulsory insurance for residents in bushfire prone areas, in the wake of Victoria’s devastating fires.

The Insurance Council of Australia has also questioned, how much of the $200 million Victorian Bushfire Appeal Fund, should be given to uninsured victims.

ICA boss Paul Giles says there’s no incentive for people to insure against bushfires, if their uninsured neighbours are going to be helped to rebuild anyway.

He also claims a compulsory home and contents insurance scheme would be no different to current Compulsory Third Party car insurance.

A Victorian government spokesman says the issue of compensation to uninsured victims, would be examined by the bushfire royal commission.

“I didn’t know that lobsters could live for 140 years.”

“Can’t be true,” says husband. “What they mean is that 140 lobsters who were one year old were released.”

“How could 140 lobsters fit into a tank in a New York restaurant? Must have been some big tank, don’t you think? Besides, why would that make it into the news amidst Gaza conflict, earthquake in Costa Rica and quarrels over halted Gas supplies from Russia through the Ukraine?”

Further discussions along the lines of what I thought I had read and husband being adamant that I had got it wrong.

“OK then, let’s wait until the ticker tape comes around again and we’ll read it together this time.”

But you know how things are in life. Just as it was the turn of the lobster story again, some commercial break interrupted the news. So my husband got out of bed and looked up the BBC news site on the internet.

“Well?”

“Yep,” the husband confirmed. “Apparently, a restaurant in New York had this 140 year old lobster in its tank for two weeks and some animal rights activists petitioned to liberate it.”

“Good for them,” I beamed.

I never did like any animals to be in cages. I even hate the idea of circuses and zoos and don’t get me started on pet canaries in cages and dogs and cats in the confines of apartment buildings.

“So how did they know it was 140 years old?”

“They can tell by its weight.”

Husband tried to get back to reading his newspaper. Not for long though…

” Hmmm. Must be a guesstimation. Cause it can’t be like telling how old a tree is on account of the number of rings. Couldn’t this particular lobster be obese rather than old? I wonder why human beings shrink as they get very old then? And another thing, why do ticker tape announcements disappear just when you want to read them again?”

I wish that Aussie film makers would face reality and get beyond blue, for a change.

Here is a typical scenario of a potential cinema goer. It’s Saturday night and you decide to take your girlfriend to the movies. Would you choose a film about a dysfunctional family—aren’t we all dysfunctional, anyway? Would you want to watch autism tearing a family apart? Would you want to munch cheerfully on pop corn while an autistic adolescent is ranting and raving in public on the screen?

Would you leave the cinema feeling happy and romantic and perhaps hoping for more than a cup of coffee at her home? Or would you just want to sit in silence wishing that you had chosen a different film?

Autism is a reality and yes, it is a tragedy, but during recessions and people losing jobs and homes, audiences need relief, unless they are some sort of sado-masochists who get off on other people’s suffering.

During the Great Depression, the American musical comedy was thriving. People went to see Shirley Temple and Charlie Chaplin, just to experience some moments of hilarity in their gloomy lives.

Here we are in the midst of a recession or depression or whatever you want to call it and people are hurting out there. So what does the Australian film industry produce? Misery, guilt and tragedy. That should brighten up a date!

I’m amazed that Australian film producers don’t include a whip with every ticket sold. A few scarlet welts should guarantee a perfect evening, for some people perhaps, but not for the average movie-goer.

Perhaps these films are made to win awards rather than box office success. In that case, the producers have achieved what they wanted. Lots of pretty little statues in their display cabinets!

I had read about Vassar in literature and heard references to it in American films, so it was truly a pleasure to walk around its beautiful buildings dating back to the Nineteenth Century. I was in architecture heaven and would have loved to live on campus.

This is what money can do when it is used for causes more worthy than buying a football team. But money can also be used as a bribe and as a tool for propaganda.

We must be wary of the undue influence of foreign governments who want to invest in our educational facilities. We must question what a government such as Saudi Arabia wants to achieve by supporting an Islamic faculty in an Australian university.

What does Saudi Arabia expect from its financial outlay to Griffith University in Queensland?

We have already seen how students from Saudi Arabia demanded that university timetables in Victoria be altered to suit their prayer schedules. Will they also demand that they have a say in the curriculum at Griffith otherwise they won’t cough up the cash in future?

Will they try to exert secret pressure on the Vice-Chancellor of Griffith University so that he discriminates against lecturers who criticise Wahabism? A word here and a word there and before you know it, the country which spawned the 9/11 terrorists, has undue influence on our democratic nation.

In my opinion, it is quite acceptable to receive donations from philanthropists as long as there are no foreign strings attached or we will become puppets attached to those strings. As I have already stated, you get nothing for nothing. There’s always a catch. Matthew Vassar wanted to give young ladies a liberal education. And that was admirable. Supporting female education was a welcome ideal in 1861. Other philanthropists such as Carnegie and Stanford also supported universities, but they were Americans whose loyalty was to America. To me that makes a world of difference.

My question is, to whom are the Saudis loyal first and foremost? Whose interests do they represent when they hand over money to our universities? The interests of Australian students or their own?

So what are they best at? In my opinion, it’s a natural leaning towards understatement combined with a steady growth in suspense. Several plot lines are developed until the conclusion which always leaves you thinking about ethics and politics. Alfred Hitchcock was a master of it and so is Anthony Horowitz, Foyle’s creator.

The action takes place during World War II, mostly around the town of Hastings. Foyle is Detective Chief Superintendent Christopher Foyle who wants to contribute to the war effort. His duty is to solve crimes on the domestic front and he always introduces himself as “a police officer.”

Sometimes the crimes are political and other times they appear petty but actually, they are always very crucial because society has to function ethically during the war or there’s no point in fighting for values that are not respected. A chaotic and lawless society would mean that the enemy has won.

That is Christopher Foyle’s credo. Profiteers, traitors and looters will not be tolerated. It’s almost like the zero tolerance policy that the city of New York adopted a few years ago when crime statistics were out of control.

In Foyle’s War one is always conscious of the common good. There is a recurring theme of the need for all Brits to be treated as equals and Foyle uses this approach when it comes to crimes committed by the aristocracy. He is not impressed by status.

That does not mean that important people don’t get away with misdemeanours and even murder, but as Foyle says he will come after them when the war is over. And we believe him, so strong is his moral code.

I absolutely love the way Horowitz shows two sides of a story. Nothing is simple or inevitable and the viewer is not insulted by too much explanation.

Basically, “Foyle’s War” is a thinking person’s detective story in which historical events play a crucial part. For example, in one episode there is a reference to Dunkirk with a description of what really went on there and how ordinary people went over to Dunkirk in the flimsiest of vessels to rescue their soldiers. It will make you cry because of the powerful emotions that are repressed by the fishermen. It’s a million times more effective than that tedious Dunkirk episode in the film “Atonement.”

As for the cast, there is Michael Kitchen in the role of Foyle. His portrayal is amazing. One slight twitch of his lips is all that’s required to convey the deepest of emotions. A shrug, a raising of the eyebrows, even a moment of silence, says it all.

And it’s his acting style that leaves an imprint on the other actors. His driver, Samantha Stewart, who is a little more emotional than her boss, is still the epitome of British stoicism and dedication with a touch of charming femininity. She is perfect in the role. Honeysuckle Weeks is spunky yet vulnerable in the portrayal of Samantha.

Paul Milner (played by Anthony Howell) is also perfect casting. He is Foyle’s assistant who has been wounded in action in Norway and so has to return to home duties. His private life is a disaster because of his injury and this makes for interesting personal situations.

This is the trio of principal characters who will lead the audience from August 1940 to the end of the war in 1945. The final series is yet to be shown and I am certainly looking forward to it. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t wait for it to be shown on Australian TV so I have pre-ordered it and hope it arrives soon.

Russell Brand is one of those new age comedians who never quite recovered from fart jokes and displaying his bottom to other toddlers in kindergarten. He got a giggle then from his contemporaries in the sandpit and sees no reason to develop his routine.

He is not amusing and I’m certain that the Queen would have quoted her ancestor who was also not amused when she was confronted by this uncouth idiot. Brand made me squirm. I am not a prude. In fact I can enjoy a blue joke provided it is witty. But I don’t like gratuitous jokes about bodily functions, pubic hair, droning on about shagging or wanking and ubiquitous references to the comedian’s penis.

They are very dreary and make me feel yuk. I can’t understand why this sleazebag was ever invited to appear at the Royal Variety Performance. Is it to please the very ordinary public who might have tuned in by accident? Is it out of fear that the concert be described as elitist, perhaps? Well, if elitist would guarantee good taste then let the annual royal concert be elitist.

Must the basest taste be catered for in everything? We have enough rubbish on TV to fill every dump in the world and if people want to be entertained by talk about toilets and gastric upsets, then let them go to the nearest pub.

In case you think that I didn’t enjoy the concert. I want to mention several brilliant performances. I absolutely adored a rising star who is destined to outdo Michael Jackson’s talent. I’m referring to a young Londoner called David Jordan. At 21 he demonstrated fantastic rhythm and a wonderful maturity in his singing. He has looks, charisma and talent and I’m sure we’ll see more of him.

Another performer who helped to make up for Russell Brand’s dross was Raymond Crowe. Apparently he’s from Australia but I have never heard of him before. He did shadow puppets with his hands, a performance which received enthusiastic applause from the audience. His act was simple but moving and I loved his choice of music, Louis Armstrong singing “What a Wonderful World.”

The third and best performance, in my opinion, was that of pianist Lang Lang. Not surprisingly, he was a child prodigy in China and his playing left me breathless. Lang Lang will be performing at next year’s Olympic Games in Beijing and although I usually give the Olympics a wide berth, I’ll now be sure to watch the opening ceremony.

As for the other acts in the Royal Variety Performance, Bon Jovi were excellent, Joan Rivers repeated a routine I’ve seen too often and Dame Kiri Te Kanawa was her usual competent self.

On the whole, the concert was all right but not as good as it has been in other years. I would like to see more quality in future performances and hopefully less of Russell Brand’s crass attempts to get a laugh. One can only imagine what Prince Philip said when Brand did his worst.