Lulu

As Americans we love to sit around and exhale fumes about how much we liked the book more than the movie because it implies we haven't spent the better part of our days watching whatever the hell Kardashian show is on, which is a lie, but I will offer that To Sir with Love is an incredibly shitty novel - the author never misses a chance to spend a page and a half perceptibly detailing the clothes, makeup, hair, lipstick, shoes, hose, shoes now, hose in relation to the shoes, hair as she's talking, lipstick as she's talking and shoes as she enters and leaves the room of a character that WE'LL NEVER, EVER HEAR FROM AGAIN!!!!!!! Fucking maddening; just as Braveheart could have been 29 minutes long, To Sir with Love could have been a short story were it not for the authors laundry lists of shit that will never matter.

For some reason it got made into a movie, presumably the first of these flicks, and, I must say, it travels much nicer as a movie than a "novel." Of course, having Sidney Poiter might have something to do with it, or it's by-now period setting, but I'm watching it right now and 15 minutes in, it's already better than the book.

HOWEVER.

The movie's great, much better than the book, but...is it as great as the song written for the movie?  In other words, is this the single greatest case of a book for the ages that became a classic film wherein the title song is better than both the book AND the movie?

Seems like it.

(Sorry for the shitty quality in the beginning - it locks in at 1:09)