Wild Tales

I saw three demonstrations in Manchester today. In the Arndale, a company was encouraging people to design their own T shirts. In Piccadilly Gardens there was a hateful "white pride" gathering of about 50 people, surrounded by police. And then there was this chap, tunelessly singing what, in the 1960s, would have been called a "protest song." He was part of a Wake-up Manchester group, who were against something or other. Fracking perhaps.

After all that excitement, we went to the Cornerhouse to see Wild Tales, a wonderfully gruesome, hilarious film,  six tales of revenge. The Cornerhouse is in its last week before moving to the new, bigger, allegedly better but blandly titled, "Home." I went to have a look at Home, under construction. I took this shot after reassuring the security guard that my photographs are purely for "personal use" (whatever that is.)  I must say, considering the place is due to open in three weeks, it does't look finished. It will look like this.

After the movie we resisted at least one local dining option and instead had a fine meal at Piccolino's - always reliable.