dissent made their way to Armando Iannucci, one of the original Partridge writers, and it seemed then that it had lit the touch paper.
On July 8th, Goliath fell, and Norwich was named the premiere in a quintessentially Alan-style retort. His official statement said, “You can imagine how hurt and litigious I felt when people said I was planning to debut my movie in London instead of Norwich," said Alan, "or that I'd allowed my head to be turned by the prospect of big city fame. Any suggestion I've hastily cobbled together the lunchtime Norwich screening in response to a local Twitter campaign will be met with the full force of the law." Back of the net!! Not only was it a Norwich screening attended by the big man himself, but Norwich would be the premiere before its second showing in London that evening. Te date that everyone pulled a city-wide sickie for was Wednesday July 24th.
It shook the foundations on which Boudicca once fought with the same gritty indignation, and it started with a hash tag.
Te morning of the premiere, Norwich had its chest fully puffed up for Alan’s arrival. Tere are some naysayers who would suggest you can’t polish a turd, but Anglia Square was buffed up to unimaginable proportions. Te smell of stewed baked beans and the occasional glint of broken glass on the Brutalist precinct floor was replaced by the sheen of London, packed up, rolled out and applied to Norwich’s third favourite shopping centre. Like glitter on shit, a wonderfully rich red velvet carpet – freshly printed and hoovered and everything – was leading the way resplendently to the premiere’s home, Hollywood Cinema.
Outline had their spot on the edge of the red carpet, at the polar opposite end to the big media boys. With Sky News, the BBC and other big players at the top, closest to Alan’s arrival point, I was squeezed in to the other end of the spectrum, looking like a local mental in my I HEART NORWICH t-shirt. Te crowds were in their hundreds, proudly beaming and singing along to the wonderfully cherry-picked 80s favourites, including the obvious ‘Knowing Me, Knowing You’, by Abba, which was met with a resounding ‘AHA!’ from the crowd every time the chorus rolled around. Fans had come from miles around, several dressed as Alan, a plucky few that won my affection instantly by coming as Lynn, and one woman had left her husband at home on their anniversary to be there… she’d traveled from Cambodia, such is the primal magnetism that Alan
outlineonline.co.uk /August 2013/ 13
Page 1 |
Page 2 |
Page 3 |
Page 4 |
Page 5 |
Page 6 |
Page 7 |
Page 8 |
Page 9 |
Page 10 |
Page 11 |
Page 12 |
Page 13 |
Page 14 |
Page 15 |
Page 16 |
Page 17 |
Page 18 |
Page 19 |
Page 20 |
Page 21 |
Page 22 |
Page 23 |
Page 24 |
Page 25 |
Page 26 |
Page 27 |
Page 28 |
Page 29 |
Page 30 |
Page 31 |
Page 32 |
Page 33 |
Page 34 |
Page 35 |
Page 36 |
Page 37 |
Page 38 |
Page 39 |
Page 40 |
Page 41 |
Page 42 |
Page 43 |
Page 44 |
Page 45 |
Page 46 |
Page 47 |
Page 48 |
Page 49 |
Page 50 |
Page 51 |
Page 52 |
Page 53 |
Page 54 |
Page 55 |
Page 56 |
Page 57 |
Page 58 |
Page 59 |
Page 60 |
Page 61 |
Page 62 |
Page 63 |
Page 64