Love Is Strange review: subtle and nuanced in ways which, I’m assuming, Fifty Shades is not

You will be wondering why I haven’t seen Fifty Shades of Grey as this is very much Fifty Shades of Grey week and although I’m as curious and excited as anybody — how has Sam Taylor-Johnson filmed a book which, let’s face it, is quite a bit shit? — there were no UK media screenings prior to going to press. This means I will now have to pay and see it at the cinema, which is something, I know, you little people do all the time, but still, who does one go with? As it happens, my mother (86) expressed an interest, but I had to tell her: no way. ‘Mum,’ I said, ‘I love you and would do anything for you but, in the words of Meatloaf, “I won’t do that.”’ Who do you go with? Tell me, please.

So, disappointing, not to be able to give you Fifty today, here, right now, but I’m also grateful, in a way, as otherwise I might have missed Love Is Strange, which comes at love from the opposite end of the spectrum, when it’s quietened down over the years, and is subtle and nuanced in ways which, I’m assuming, Fifty is possibly not. Plus — and this is a big plus, a major plus, a humdinger of a plus — it stars Alfred Molina and John Lithgow and if you don’t think a film is worth seeing simply by virtue of starring Alfred Molina and John Lithgow, you may well be mad, on top of being a little person. A mad little person. That’s you.