Not a GT-40

Out to visit the son who is in very good spirits considering. I think my lecture on fortitude stuck a chord. Well, I like to think so. 
Then onward through the rain-sodden town to Vue to see Le Mans ’66. Well, a couple of friends had seen it and said good things, and Kermode liked it so the fact that Bradshaw gave it two stars concerned me not at all.
Ye Gods, what a dreadful film. What is that Christian Bale character supposed to be? That cockney accent (I think?)... Dick van Dyke springs to mind. And his ‘missus’ - coom in fora cuppa. But that doesn’t go near explaining how dreadful it all is - the two cars racing side by side, for miles(!) with the drivers staring across at each other. Yeah. At two hundred miles an hour. And how many cliches do you want? Ferrari are Italian? Lets make all their team and mechanics, like.. excitable. Peter Sellers could have got the gig. And Ken is on the bus on the way to Le Mans.. it’s France! Let’s sit two nuns behind him. He gets off the bus. We’ll have two gendarmes walking past. Christ, send for Sellers! Get him out that Ferrari gear. He now should speak like zees! I nearly walked out. 
Later, out again. More planning application shenanigans. I need a cuppa, pet. And no, no, caffeine, please.