I'm not unfond of running. A few times a week I slip on my running shoes, then get up and vow to be more careful next time, then I go for a run. I'm not sure anyone really likes running while they're doing it, it's all pounding and sweaty and leg achey, and every single time I'm convinced I won't make it back home. At the end I collapse in a gasping, sobbing mess on the floor, swearing on my mother's socks to never run again. And then – clichéd but true – endorphin starts oozing everywhere and within a couple of minutes I want to go running all over again. Except by this stage my legs have shut down for the day so I have to wait till next time.

Like I said, I'm not unfond of running. And this is the only real prerequisite for enjoying Haruki Murakami's [b:What I Talk About When I Talk About Running|4352812|What I Talk About When I Talk About Running|Haruki Murakami|http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51jRd8LRR6L._SL75_.jpg|2475030]. That book is essentially about Murakami's writing career but from the point of view of his running (that makes sense if you've read the book, honest). If you don't like running I suspect you'd hate the book, but if you're at least not unfond of it then Murakami's wonderful style makes the book a delight to read.

I may be not unfond of running, but I love films. Especially horror films, and especially especially the kind of bad horror that some people disdain without even seeing it. Mark Kermode is of a similar bent, and It's Only a Movie is essentially What I Talk About When I Talk About Running except it's about Kermode's life as a film critic from the point of view of films. And Kermode's literary prowess doesn't quite rival Murakami. Of course that doesn't matter here, his thoroughly over the top enthusiasm for films pervades every page. The book is essentially a series of semi-fictional anecdotes about his career, with most of them punctuated by "just like that bit in [insert film here]."

The anecdotes aren't semi-fictional on purpose per se, but Kermode admits his memory is wildly influenced by what he thinks should have happened, or what he wishes he had done in a given situation. We've all come up with a punchy and witty riposte the day after someone says something to us, Kermode clearly does this too but, five years later, can no longer distinguish between whether he actually said the thing or not. This makes the book thoroughly entertaining once you get over the fact that many events in the book didn't happen the way they're told. Certainly the book had me snorting inappropriately on several occasions, Kermode's description of Mamma Mia! provoking actual tears of mirth.

If you like films, especially cheap, nasty horror films, then read the book. If not, well, then don't. ( )

I'm not unfond of running. A few times a week I slip on my running shoes, then get up and vow to be more careful next time, then I go for a run. I'm not sure anyone really likes running while they're doing it, it's all pounding and sweaty and leg achey, and every single time I'm convinced I won't make it back home. At the end I collapse in a gasping, sobbing mess on the floor, swearing on my mother's socks to never run again. And then – clichéd but true – endorphin starts oozing everywhere and within a couple of minutes I want to go running all over again. Except by this stage my legs have shut down for the day so I have to wait till next time.

Like I said, I'm not unfond of running. And this is the only real prerequisite for enjoying Haruki Murakami's [b:What I Talk About When I Talk About Running|4352812|What I Talk About When I Talk About Running|Haruki Murakami|http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51jRd8LRR6L._SL75_.jpg|2475030]. That book is essentially about Murakami's writing career but from the point of view of his running (that makes sense if you've read the book, honest). If you don't like running I suspect you'd hate the book, but if you're at least not unfond of it then Murakami's wonderful style makes the book a delight to read.

I may be not unfond of running, but I love films. Especially horror films, and especially especially the kind of bad horror that some people disdain without even seeing it. Mark Kermode is of a similar bent, and It's Only a Movie is essentially What I Talk About When I Talk About Running except it's about Kermode's life as a film critic from the point of view of films. And Kermode's literary prowess doesn't quite rival Murakami. Of course that doesn't matter here, his thoroughly over the top enthusiasm for films pervades every page. The book is essentially a series of semi-fictional anecdotes about his career, with most of them punctuated by "just like that bit in [insert film here]."

The anecdotes aren't semi-fictional on purpose per se, but Kermode admits his memory is wildly influenced by what he thinks should have happened, or what he wishes he had done in a given situation. We've all come up with a punchy and witty riposte the day after someone says something to us, Kermode clearly does this too but, five years later, can no longer distinguish between whether he actually said the thing or not. This makes the book thoroughly entertaining once you get over the fact that many events in the book didn't happen the way they're told. Certainly the book had me snorting inappropriately on several occasions, Kermode's description of Mamma Mia! provoking actual tears of mirth.

If you like films, especially cheap, nasty horror films, then read the book. If not, well, then don't. ( )

'You sub?' said Geoff, his interest marginally piqued.
'Oh yes, I do everything. Subbing. Listings, driving the van. Or crashing the van ha ha ha - only joking. But what I really want to do is write and —— '
It was Geoff's turn to cut in.
'You've done listings?'
'Oh yes. But I really want to write . . .'
'But you can do listings. You have experience?'
'Yes I have experience in listings. And Writing.'
'But listings?'
'Yes, listings. And writing'
'But listings?'
With my highly trained super-perception journalist skills I had started to detect a subtle undercurrent in our conversation which may not have been obvious to the untrained ear. Through some uncanny sixth sense I began to divine that Geoff may have an interest in someone with skills in the area of listings'. Without realising it, he had unwittingly allowed me an entry into the otherwise impenetrable fortress of the Time Out Film Section which I would now subtly exploit to my own advantage.

Mark Kermode begins by saying that this book should be read as if it is a movie 'inspired by real events', since some of the other people involved remember events quite differently. Oh, and to get into the spirit of things, you should imagine that Jason Isaacs is playing Mark. It is the story of his life with films, from childhood trips to the cinema, through his time at university in Manchester where he writes his first published reviews for a local magazine, and on to London as an adult where he somehow manages to blag a paying job at at Time Out.

Some of the stories in this book that had me laughing out loud, such as the 'job interview' quoted above and Mark's first disastrous attempt at reviewing films on radio. I am a long time listener to the Kermode and Mayo film podcast and Mark's voice comes across loud and clear in this very enjoyable book. ( )

Quite an entertaining read in Kermode's quite unmistakable voice. As with quite a few autobiographies of living broadcasters, the anecdotes are far from new though. As an avid follower of his movie review podcast, I'd heard perhaps as many as 2/3 of the witty stories and observations already. If you're like me, borrow, don't buy, as it's a bit stale in that respect. ( )

After reading ‘Hatchet Job’ by Mark Kermode last year and thoroughly enjoying it, I was really looking forward to reading his other books, starting with ‘It’s Only a Movie’ which is his sort-of biography (in reality more of a collection of stories from his career; Kermode describes the book as “inspired by real events” and tells the stories as though they are part of a movie of his life – with Jason Isaacs playing the man himself).

For anyone who doesn’t know who Mark Kermode is, he is a well known and popular British film critic, and half of Kermode and (Simon) Mayo’s Film Review programme on BBC Radio 5 Live, and this book relates the story of how he got there, starting off as an enthusiastic journalist for various regional magazines – amongst other things, he describes being humiliated by Helen Mirren, a wholly unenjoyable and ultimate fruitless journey to Russia to do an on-set report about the film Dark Waters, and how celebrated director Werner Herzog was shot at mid-interview!

If anything I enjoyed this book even more than I enjoyed Hatchet Job. Kermode is a self-deprecating and often very funny narrator, with a tendency to veer off at tangents halfway through any given story, but he always comes back to the point he is making, and always in a very entertaining fashion. His passion for films – in particular splattery gory horror movies – is clear to see, and even if I didn’t always agree with his opinions on certain films, I certainly enjoyed reading them.

It’s an entertaining and easy read, and I would definitely recommend it, particularly to film fans. ( )