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Now I have your attention it would be rude if I didn't tell you a little about my literary feast.
So, here is the thing: is it just me or does anyone else find that adulthood offers no refuge from the unexpected horrors, peculiar lack of physical coordination and sometimes unexplained nudity, that accompanied childhood and adolescence? Now I have your attention it would be rude if I didn't tell you a little about my literary feast.
The sight gags are more miss than hit, and the most clever sequence - the climactic screening at Cannes - will go way over the heads of Mr Bean’s child audience.
En route, Bean wrecks the shoot of a pretentious American indie film director (a surprisingly funny Willem Dafoe) but manages to hitch a lift with the star of this dubious auteur’s latest snoozefest (Emma de Caunes, daughter of TV presenter Antoine).
And guess who ends up winning a standing ovation from the cineastes at Cannes.
First thing you wake up, and you start shouting -- so intense. I was about to open my wallet, and give her all my money.
All of a sudden, my sister woke up and said, "That's my money! I was like, "you are so dramatic and very emotional." Yeah, I know.
Placing the less than articulate Bean in a foreign environment where he can’t communicate except by mime and the three words he thinks he knows of French, ‘oui’, ‘non’ and ‘gracias’, is another shrewd move, as is not striving to make him too nice.
Mr Bean works best when he is, as he started out, an amoral anarchist with the greedy self-centredness of a six-year-old.
So, here is the thing: is it just me or does anyone else find that adulthood offers no refuge from the unexpected horrors, peculiar lack of physical coordination and sometimes unexplained nudity, that accompanied childhood and adolescence? Well, fret not, for this is my attempt at one and let's call it, because it's fun, a Miran-ual.
Does everybody struggle with the hazards that accompany, say, sitting elegantly on a bar stool; using chopsticks; pretending to understand the bank crisis; pedicures - surely it's plain wrong for a stranger to fondle your feet? I am proud to say I have a wealth of awkward experiences - from school days to life as an office temp - and here I offer my 18-year-old self (and I hope you too dear reader) some much needed caution and guidance on how to navigate life's rocky path.
School holidays are here again, and with them two offerings for the family that show some intelligence and invention.
In Mr Bean’s Holiday, the mugging misfit (played, as ever, by Rowan Atkinson) wins a church raffle that sends him on holiday to the south of France to coincide with the Cannes Film Festival.
Making Bean speak at length in the first movie, and rhapsodise schmaltzily about motherhood and family values, was to Hollywoodise him too much.