One almost expects a degree of pathos when viewing the ensemble drama of Throw Out the Anchor. Indeed, when presented with such a serious and irony free play based on one man's struggle against corporate America, and of course his own inner struggle to sustain that true American identity, then I suppose it is not surprising that the material presented is devoid of humour.
Once, while serving in the Second Boer War, my grand-uncle observed an Elephant absent-mindedly defecate upon the head of a Trek Oxen. I'm sad to report that this is a similar experience to that which one will find if one does manage to sit through the serious allegory of the Second World War presented through some middle aged-man's efforts to save a cove from being built over by a road.
Second World War, you ask? Indeed. For within this film you will find the Jewish lawyer forced to gaze upon the remnants of a society he once loved, a sub-continental type praising universal love (representing the forgotten army of the Burma campaign), the child being the face of the baby boomers post war.
There is more, but I just remembered I died a couple of years ago.
Yours, Brian Sewell's ghost.
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