It’s the big film of the year so far (after one week) and I’m dying to see it. However, I won’t. This isn’t due to the usual, trademark FatMancunian lazy gene kicking in as usual, no. There’s a reason. If you don’t know what the Iron Lady is (welcome to the world outside your cave – this is the internet) it’s a biopic of the former Prime Minister of ours, Mrs. Margaret Thatcher. It’s told through the eyes of a woman in advanced years who is basically deteriorating with dementia at some rate and telling her tale through flashbacks. A story of how a plucky young chemist from a leafy Lincolnshire market town ended up being the first woman to rule Britannia since Elizabeth I. Meryl Streep is, apparently, mesmerizing as Thatcher. Olivia Colman is, so I’m told, heartbreakingly good as Carol and I’m lead to believe that Jim Broadbent’s Denis Thatcher is a treat. I’ll never know. I won’t see it….and here’s why. The words “Margaret Thatcher” cannot help but stir the feelings of anyone ove...