So, it was rather a disappointment to see the gong resting limply against a wall in The london Film Museum this weekend. Its papier-mâché frame looked as insignificant as the wall display of a jaded infant teacher. And a felt tip sign was stuck disrespectfully to one side, asking us not to touch.
Monday 24 January 2011
The Man With The Gong
For years, the beautifully carved torso of the Rank Organisation Gongman, bashed the importance of cinema into my Sunday-afternoon-on-the-sofa head and left me clinging to its resonance. As he swung his arms lustily towards the gong, I was in no doubt of the power of the olden days. My! That man could kill tigers with his bare hands.
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I think that I'm related to one of the gongmen (of which there were several)
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