Anna Karenina

Without a doubt, Anna Karenina is one of most beautiful - if not the most beautiful - films of the year.  I'd been looking forward to it ever since I interviewed Jude Law while he was mid-filming (yes he's incredibly attractive, even more so with age, despite the fact he still seems to dress like a teenager - oh, and he's intelligent too and really, really nice) and it didn't disappoint:   the endless partially decaying theatre sets, the lighting, the serious stylisation, the dresses, the furs, the diamonds (Chanel, worth approximately £2 million if anyone was thinking of adding them to their autumn/ winter wish list) - and of course, the cast themselves.  I laughed ("paperwork is the soul of Russia") and cried (Anna's reunion  with her son, Serezha; Levin's reunion with Kitty) and almost ran home to my husband and children afterwards, so full of love for them did I feel.

Oh, I know, the reviews have been mixed.  And Tolstoy only gave two lines to the sexual apect of Anna and Vronsky's relationship, whereas Joe Wright gave rather more.  But I don't care what the reviews say, I loved it all, and could watch it again tomorrow.

So here's a picture of Anna (Keira Knightley) in furs at the station.

Have you noticed how all the best films have significant scenes set at stations?  There's Brief Encounter, The Red Shoes, Lawrence of Arabia, North by Northwest, pretty much every Western ever made. . . .  and doubtlessly many more.

(Irrelevant and barely related fact:  a Russian art group, pre-Perestroika, put on an alternative version of Anna Karenina, in which Anna missed the train, didn't commit suicide, and married the station master.  A happier ending for those who can't deal with tragedy.)