The Day of the Jackal (1973)

Directed by: Fred Zinneman
Starring: Edward Fox, Michel Lonsdale,
Tony Britton, Alan Badel,
Olga Georges-Picot, Cyril Cusack
Adrian Cayla-Legrand, Eric Porter,
Delphine Seyrig, Jean Martin

When The Day of the Jackal first released in India, I was too young to watch the film. When it returned as a re-run, my father, who had been in France during the period in which the film is set, wanted to share the film with me. I don't know who was more disappointed when we weren't allowed in – the film was certified 'A', and I was still too young. (He ended up taking my brother and sister for it the next day.)

A couple of years later, I was rummaging through my father's bookshelves looking for something to read. My father travelled extensively for work, and usually brought back two bestsellers for himself each time (one on his flight out, one on his return flight), and a book apiece for each of his children. I had finished reading my book, and unable to wait any longer for my brother and sister to finish theirs, I decided to see if my father's book case held anything of interest. Just in my early teens, I'd recently graduated from Agatha Christie, PG Wodehouse and Leslie Charteris to James Hadley Chase, Alistair McLean and Louis L'Amour. Among the Ludlums and Haileys, my eye was caught by the name, The Day of the Jackal. Hmm, Frederick Forsyth. I hadn't read him before, but I remembered the movie that I hadn't been allowed to watch. So I grabbed the book out of the bookcase and began to read. I ended up reading it in one sitting. (That isn't saying much – those days, I read most books in one stretch unless such inconvenient things such as my mother, school and chores interfered.)

Then, years later (I was in my final year of college), my brother borrowed The Day of the Jackal from the local video cassette library – a grainy, not-very-clear print, but I still remember how thrilling it was. Recently, my husband and I were discussing movies and this film came up in conversation. Both of us agreed that we had to watch the film again. No sooner said than done – S was online checking to see if Netflix had the film – they did, and so the deed was done, as they say.

The DVD arrived on Friday, but it wasn't until Sunday night, when both of us were so disgusted with the way Gerald Durrell's Corfu trilogy was shaping up that we looked at each other and said simultaneously: S: "I can't see any more of this rubbish!" Me: "Let's watch 'The Day of the Jackal'."

So. Here we are.