Mike Leigh films

Out of an argument with others, we create prose; out of an argument with ourselves, poetry

Because you are so middle-class

You are surprised that the poor are kind
Solicitous; sometimes they shout!
You like to read Polly Toynbee

Even your violence is false
It leaves a taste of saccharine
Because it's an aberration –
It's not from the world that you see

Little pockets of love, maybe
An oboe, or a frigging harp
Winter on the allotment
Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah

People being so frigging nice
I would rather drive six-inch nails
Slowly into my hands than watch
Your trite, insipid cinema

The poor are bad, greedy, stupid
Like the rich – some of them – and some
Of the wealthy are quite guiltless –
Your approach is one-size-fits-all

It's shapeless, like a woolly hat
There's no caffeine, no guts to it
Like coco, or camomile tea
Old bollocks, bought from a church hall

I haven't made any friends with this poem. It's like being nasty about the Queen Mother. But his last film was spectacularly awful; the one before that was an abomination. Abigail's Party I liked very much. I think that Leigh should direct an action movie  –  maybe the next batman