Batman: A Riddle a Day Keeps the Riddler Away & When the Rat's Away the Mice Will Play

A Riddle a Day Keeps the Riddler Away

"Cheese?"

"Not without a glass of vintage port, you lackey!"

It's the first time we've had a villain return and- contrary to last week's teaser- it's the Riddler. This is wonderful as Frank Gorshin is easily the best of the guest villains we've had so far, with his performance going past mere villainous theatricality to hints of a very real instability and danger. Riddles and gimmicks aside, there's something that feels very real about the character as played by Gorshin, however minor a villain he may have been at this point. Not even the fact that he's employing a gang who dress up as rats and eat cheese can take away from that.

We also get the amusing character of King Boris, and a splendidly witty script from newcomer Fred De Gorter. The plot is pretty much just a never-ending treasure hunt of riddles taking us to the, er, revolutionary cliffhanger. But who cares? This is top stuff.

And don't you love the quaint 1960s computer in the Batcave?


When the Rat's Away the Mice Will Play

"Stop fiddling with that atomic pile and come down here!"

Again, the plot is just riddle, set piece, repeat, fight, conclusion. But the script is witty, the Riddler is mesmerising and it's all such fun. This is the Batman formula to perfection. Who cares if the cliffhanger resolution is just another utility belt cheat; the script pretty much cheerfully admits this as our heroes note that "the utility belt saves us again".

It's weird to see a "Gotham City police call box", and this Museum of Fame looks a bit rubbish. But Batman, by this point, seems just effortlessly good. Worryingly, though, this time the Riddler is captured. I hope we see him again soon...

Wire- Pink Flag (1977)

Wire are, of course, very much still going, and I absolutely must hear their new album. But it's the early albums that had a huge influence on bands from Elastica to pretty much all UK Indie music between 2001 and 2001. Their second long player, Chairs Missing, is the better album, and has the brilliant "I Am the Fly" on it, but this is generally the only Wire album that people own, and its influence has been incalculable.

It's a winning formula- short, unpretentious but weirdly structured and slightly atonal yet somehow completely poppy songs, plus socially aware lyrics that I really ought to read sometime. This is from straight out of the DIY punk ethos, and is made in the year of peak punk (I chose a good year to be born in) yet feels like it has much more in common with the '80s sounds which are known, in the UK at least (the many fertile scenes in the contemporary USA are a different matter entirely) as post-punk. And it's just an awesome collection of songs.

So, basically, I probably ought to get a Wire album made within the last forty years...

Captain Beefheart and his Magic Band- Trout Mask Replica (1969)

This album presents me with an interesting challenge. It’s an album which does all sorts of clever stuff and is anything but easy to listen for the first few times, seemingly out of tune and discordant. Only a few listens later do you realise it’s supposed to be like this, and it’s growing on you. I first heard this album after the much-missed John Peel did that television documentary in the early 2000’s, and I’ve played it constantly since.

But the challenge for me, as someone with very little understanding of how music works, is how to talk about this? There are certainly stretches that sound like Mississippi blues, and Don Van Vliet certainly had a blues background, but this is essentially an album that well goes over my head, will forever continue doing so, and so cannot possibly ever become boring.

I won’t pretend to understand, even for a moment, that I understand why Don Van Vliet was a genius.  But he was, and although he produced several other albums which fascinate me, this is his masterwork.

Batman: Zelda the Great & A Death Worse Than Fate

Zelda the Great

"A loyal taxpayer stooping to such criminal methods...?"

You can tell Lorenzo Semple Jr is back: this two parter is the finest since the opening brace of episodes with the Riddler. It doesn't seem to be quite as popular because it features a one-off villain, but I don't care. Anne Baxter is the best guest baddie since Frank Gorshin, and this two-parter actually has a solid plot with a character arc for Zelda- there's nothing wrong with the usual formula f set piece after set piece, but it's nice to see a diversion from the usual formula so early on. We even have the Dynamic Duo initially summoned by the Bat-Signal for the first time.

It's an intriguing premise- $100,000 being robbed from a bank once a year by an escape artist in order to pay back the dastardly Albanian genius Eivol Ekdal- who is certainly a portrayal of a native of said Balkan nation from another era. Then again, the character of Zelda is certainly strong, clever and somewhat kickass, but also definitely a model of femininity from an era before the second wave of feminism. It's interesting, too, that our first female villain is our first one-off- and that, despite the namecheck, it isn't the more predictable Catwoman.

This is a fascinating episode as, although it also has the usual high camp fun pretty much constantly, it's the first time we see Batman being portrayed as a proper detective, and rather a good one. It's a fun little cliffhanger, too, with a ransomed and straitjacketed Aunt Harriet suspended over boiling oil...


A Death Worse Than Fate

"How could a woman stoop to such a trick?"

An interesting cliffhanger resolution via television here by the Commissioner ("Hello, criminals, wherever you are out there, do you hear me, criminals?"), as we are treated for quite a while to the sight of Bruce Wayne and Robin together in early scenes that make it deliberately silly that no one has guessed the Batman's secret identity.

It's also fun to see Alfred blaming himself for Aunt Harriet's kidnapping because of his addiction to "a certain television programme". But the fun soon turns to peril as Eivol Ekdal has devised an impossible trap for Zelda- with the way to escape to be provided by Batman and Robin. But all is well in the end, and without a fight, as Ekdal is downed by a Batarang and a tearful and slihtly lovestruck Zelda submits to the, er, "Bat-cuffs".

There's even a heart-warming little coda for Zelda. It's a shame Anne Baxter won't be returning to the role. This two-parter is an unappreciated classic.

What's this, though? The Joker? I though next week was going to be the Riddler?

Doctor Who: Fugitive of the Judoon

“Consider your rhino backside imperially regulated!"

Er... so this isn't a story of the week, then. Blimey.

I'm still more than a little shellshocked from that. Did they really squeeze all that into forty-nine minutes? Impossible, surely?

So let's take a deep breath. I shall try and be coherent about what I just watched. Firstly, it was very good- I'm not sure how much was Chibbers and how much was Vinay Patel; frankly a big chunk of it was very heavily arc stuff so you can see how Chibbers ended up with a co-writing credit. Nevertheless, between this and Demons of the Punjab I'm impressed with Patel, on present evidence one of the more promising of the new writers.

I'm also extremely impressed with Jodie Whittaker. So far she hasn't been given scripts which allow her to show the kind of range that other recent Doctors have, and the result has been a kind of vague post-2005 generic Tennant-style performance. But here we get to see more of this Doctor's hidden depths, and at last Whittaker is called upon to dig deep- and she really nails it. This, more than anything with current Doctor Who, is what I've been waiting for. We know that this isn't going to be an episode of the week from very early on, in the TARDIS, where the Doctor is uncharacteristically secretive to her friends about what the Master told her at the end of Spyfall.

At first this seems like a fairly normal episode. Yes, we know the Judoon of old but they're portrayed as the same old occasionally murderous comic foils of old, with their silly language and vulnerability to having obscure legislation quoted at them. They're looking all around Gloucester (naturally, the episode gives us a good look at that fair city's main tourist attractions including, KGB assassins please note, the very pretty cathedral) for a fugitive, who seems to be a bloke called Lee, played by Matthew from Game On.

Except all this is just very clever misdirection. Because we begin the episode from the POV of Lee's very ordinary tour guide wife, Ruth, who is likeable, relatable and reacts just as a normal person would to all these alien rhino people. Only after a while, and after the appearance of the Judoons' immediate employer Gat, do we realise that all this is just misdirection and that Ruth- not poor, doomed Lee- is the fugitive.

None of this, at this point, seems to have much wider significance. Much more jaw-dropping is that ship orbiting the Earth that first Graham and then Yas and Ryan are transmatted to. Only gradually do we get the completely out-of-the-blue (at least to those of us who are unspoiled) return of Captain Jack. This is something of a joyous shock- and I love his reaction to the Doctor's current gender. I suppose it makes sense that Chibbers, former showrunner of Torchwood, would bring back a character he knows well. Even more intriguing, for vague reasons of plot convenience he can't hang around, and gets to impart some enjoyably cryptic and fascinating words before sodding suddenly off. The Doctor is to "Beware the lone Cyberman" and "Don't give it what it wants". It seems there's a big alliance against a massive Cyber-empire which can only be "brought down to nothing" if the Doctor does the right thing. Oooh.

All of this is huge, but it's not even close to being the main shock of this not-exactly-anonymous episode.Because Ruth shows some unexpected combat skills while facing the Judoon and the mysterious Gat in Gloucester Cathedral, which a probably going to get a few more tourists than usual. The Doctor accompanies her to her lighthouse childhood home and digs up a strange object while Ruth goes to what turns out to be a trigger for a chameleon arch (remember them?). The object turns out to be a somewhat '60s-ish looking TARDIS and Ruth turns out to be... the Doctor. We can add Jo Martin (who is very good indeed, and whom I remember from Chef) to the list. And she is absolutely Doctorish- right up to giving Gat a chance before letting her trip the fatal booby trap.

This is, I think it's fair t say, a bombshell. Oh, there's a certain amount of plot and peril until the episode finishes, but while all this is going on we, the viewers are trying to digest this information. Because this is clearly a past Doctor and that, as continuity currently stands, is theoretically impossible. There are thirteen incarnations in a regeneration cycle, and although it's slightly complicated by the fact that Jodie is the first of a new cycle of thirteen, we know every past incarnation of the Doctor, right? And Brain of Morbius, you can shut up. Multi-Doctor stories from The Five Doctors to Day of the Doctor have flat out stated that William Hartnell was the first.

But Chibbers, of course, knows this. He's one of us. It's pretty much certain that a) all this is done deliberately and with all due continuity obsessiveness and b) he has a plan. We're going to get yet another layer of retcon. The Doctor's past is looking a bit knocked about, certainly, but I for one am excited. Even more curious is that the employers of the Judoon are the Time Lords- but Time Lords from the past. This is the first time we've seen non-renegade Time Lords from Gallifrey's actual past, which in any other episode would itself be huge. There's clearly some kind of forgotten, buried past.

Then again, the TARDIS is a police box- so post An Unearthly Child? But no sonic screwdriver as yet, so pre-Fury from the Deep? And Chibbers is certainly well aware of these points.

We end with the Doctor and her friends reaffirming their togetherness, the Doctor concluding that "Something's coming for me", and a hook into next week's episode. We have a week to recover. Phew.

I have no idea, excited as I am, where all this is leading. But that's how you masterfully ramp up the revelations, beat by beat. Brilliant.

Videodrome (1983)

“Television is reality. And reality... is less than television."

This is my first really early film by David Cronenberg, I've actually seen four of his films before, but this is the first of the early ones that made his reputation. And... wow.

This is a layered, fascinating film with a subtext which is, yes, about what we in the UK called video nasties (aren't moral panics delightful?), with Max's hallucinations an obvious metaphor for the allegedly dehumanising effect of screen sex and violence. But there's no didacticism, no moralising, and plenty of playfulness.

James Woods, he of Family Guy and Trump-loving fame, is excellent of the amoral Max who is always looking for more and more extreme sexual and violent content for his television station. He meets the very kinky Nicky, who loves whips, chains and more, and at first there's a heavy whiff of transgressive eroticism that reminds me of Cronenberg's later Crash. But no; that's just the starter, superbly and alluringly sexual though Debbie Harry is. I wish she'd done some more acting; she's good at it.

But the fourth wall here is never very solid, and the torture and death footage of "Videodrome" induces hallucination and, in the end, disturbing body horror of the type Cronenberg is almost synonymous for. It all makes strong sense in terms of theme, narrative and story beats but, of course, doesn't do anything so pedestrian as to make sense in terms of plot. It's an extraordinary film that not only looks early '80s but explores the anxieties of the age- many of which are still with us, such as the effect of porn on sex. It may not literally be cyberspace but seems to come very much from the same zeitgeist as William Gibson's Neuromancer the following year, a novel I really do need to read again.

An extraordinary, important film which has so much more to say than I will have noticed on just this viewing. Cronenberg is one of the select few filmmakers among the very greatest.

Television- Marquee Moon (1977)

It's odd what a disconnect there is between the popular impression of this album and the reality. I mean, don't get me wrong- it has a solid reputation for being extraordinary. But it tends to get lumped in with a narrative that goes "punk started with (insert theory, possibly involving pub rock), but gets solidified with New York, CBGB's and all that, and the Ramones, Patti Smith, Talking Heads. Blondie and Television (oh, and Richard Hell) were all part of a scene, then the Sex Pistols happened".

Trouble is, this narrative is utter pants. None of those "CBGB's" bands sound at all alike or, indeed, seem to have much in common beyond being from New York. And this, the only Television album that most people own (including me), doesn't sound remotely "punk", however loosely we define it. Oh, the songwriting is tight, unpretentious and in no way flabby, but that guitar sound doesn't sound like anything "punk" although it does, oddly enough, remind me of the second Album from the Strokes, another New York band but a generation later.

And I suppose that's the point. This album doesn't sound remotely of its time, but more like an indie band from the 2000's. There's no denying, though, that it's an outstanding and addictive collection of songs that burrow themselves into your brain.

Batman: Instant Freeze & Rats Like Cheese

Instant Freeze

"Nippy, have you ordered the airplane to go zoom zoom zoom?"

Another entertaining opening here as Mr Freeze, from his ice cream van, first melts an ice rink then freezes the road to escape from a chasing police motorcyclist. He's an interesting villain- first, he's only able to exist 50 degrees (Fahrenheit, this being both 1966 and America) below zero, which for the first time introduces outright science fiction into the series, not that realism has ever been much of a concern. Secondly Mr Freeze (or Mr Zero, as he was known in his one and only comics appearance up until now, way back in 1959, wearing a similar helmet) is a very minor baddie to earn a place in the telly series- but so, of course, is the Tiddler. And, in the urbane and effortlessly charismatic (even with a German accent) George Sanders, we have a guest villain second only to Frank Gorshin.

Again, the script doesn't sparkle, not being written by Lorenzo Semple Jr, but the plot is sound and the pacing well done. And the visuals of Freeze's chilly hideout, with his being able to control the temperature with the touch of a button and warm areas in red, are superb.

The story beats are as per usual, with the usual bits of stock footage at the start, with a theme of diamonds and baseball to hint at Freeze's ultimate plan- and of course we have the character of Princess Sandra, who is blatantly Princess Grace of Monaco. And, at the diamond robbery, the manager is the campiest character ever.

And the ending gives us quite the cliffhanger, with the dynamic duo frozen solid.


Rats Like Cheese

"Sorry. Slipped on a baked Alaska..."

For once, the second episode eclipses the first, beginning with lots of rather amusing high camp as Commissioner Gordon and his equally appalled underlings look on as attempts are made in hospital to revive the Dynamic Duo- or, as the Commissioner puts it, "two such magnificent specimens of manhood".

But then Freeze reveals his plan- kidnapping a famous baseball player in order to swap him for the touchingly honourable Batman in order to have his revenge. Fortunately a disobedient Robin (Batman is not pleased!) is able to trace him and, well, get captured too. We then get lots of fun as they all dine together, with Mr Freeze showing an impressive talent for freezing certain types of booze... while Mr Freeze controls the temperature. It seems all is lost...

But hang on a minute... Batman is wearing "special thermal B long underwear. Yes indeed; saved by long johns. Well, that's a first.

Another good and entertaining two parter, then, not as funny as the scripts by Semple but with a particularly impressive villain. And, interestingly, for the first time we get a teaser for the next episode...

Dracula: The Dark Compass

“I knew the future would bring wonders. I did not know it would make them ordinary.”

Wow. Well, I suspect that won't have pleased everyone as much as it pleased me. Moffat's clever structural games and Gatiss' fondness of allusion don't appeal to everyone as much as they do to me. Personally my only concern is that a programme broadcast on the first three days of January could plausibly end up as the best thing on telly in 2020. The episode, and the series, really are that good. And it's not all clever plotting, or smirking when we hear good old Bela echoed in "Children of the night- what music they make". It's also horror, and real, effective horror at that. And heart. Lots of heart. For the record, the end made Mrs Llamastrangler cry.

It's a bold move to properly resolve the cliffhanger at the end of the first episode at the start of the third. It is, though, perhaps even bolder to invite comparisons to Sherlock by fast forwarding to the present day. It's lovely to have, though, after the initial excitement with the helicopters, some time to breathe, and to allow Dracula to acclimatise himself to the twentieth century, a time of wonders for him, where even a poor household has access to untold wonders, and even to chide us on how we take all this for granted.

It really should be an obvious, tired cliche to have Zoe Helsing be a great grand-niece of Agatha who happens also to be played by Dolly Wells, but it somehow isn't, because blood is lives, everyone is drinking each others' blood, and we can be poetically ambiguous about which Van Helsing is which. Likewise, the conceit of having the Jonathan Harker Foundation (nice bit of misdirection with Jack's phone) wanting Dracula for his blood is only really there for characters to meet each other so the plot can happen, but it allows us to meet this version Renfield, played with comical panache by Gatiss, yet again getting away with cheekily writing himself a fun character to play. And it's clever how we see Dracula scoff at the notion of rights- he's a vampire aristocrat, so he's all about blood; he and the probably-going-to-be-reshuffled Jacob Rees Mogg should get on well- only for Renfield to use his legal rights to get him freed.

Alongside Claes Bang, though, the other star is Lydia West as this version of Lucy Westenwra. She may have been bloody good in Years and Years but she's bloody extraordinary in this, perfectly playing the nihilistic charm of the bored, beautiful hedonist. Her dialogue tempts fate, of course- "I'll sleep when I'm dead" and "everyone smiles when you're pretty" are both dead giveaways if you're paying attention. And Dracula soon ends up giving her a regular thrill be feeding off her in at least a bit of a gesture towards Bram Stoker's novel. And yes, of course the feeding is a not-very-subtle metaphor for sex. We expect no less.

But the horror of this conception of the undead is present too, with Dracula calmly informing Lucy that exactly nine occupants of the graveyard are "suffering" in their coffins- and one horrific undead child has managed to get out. The reveal of what it looks like is superbly done.

But the real horror is for Lucy- not her rather erotic and cheerfully longed-for death; not the existential horror of being undead; not even the unimaginable torture of being cremated while conscious. No; it's the fact that she's disfigured, and simply cannot live without being beautiful.

But the ending is not hers; it belongs to Agatha/Zoe, who ends by confronting Dracula over his fear of facing death, the common thread that binds together his weaknesses. I'm not sure this quite works if you look too closely, but it's so artfully done that we don't particularly care. And that final scene of Dracula and Agatha dying together, erotically, with death and orgasm literally metaphors for each other... that's romantic, and perfect. Because the reason why this is sublime, and Twilight is shite, is not that vampires shouldn't be romantic. They absolutely should. But the romance must always be twisted, never vanilla.

The Beatles- Revolver (1966)

So this is the first Beatles album I’m blogging- not their first, naturally, but right in the middle of their career.

It’s almost impossible to quantify what the Beatles did over the career. Popular music without them is unthinkable. They effectively skated the dragon of cynical Svengali-driven cynical pop, writing their own stuff and proving that, once that happened, all sorts of unbelievable things can happen. There’s plenty of very good chart pop around, even today, but nothing Svengali-driven will ever amount to anything. Yes, that means Cowell and his ilk have never done anything worthwhile and never will.

Early Beatles sounds pretty much like the popular music of the time, only better. But it’s at this point, mid-career, that they really start to lush into uncharted territory. None of which stops Revolver from having an identity of its own as an album, of course. It’s very Paul-heavy, with most of the standout tracks (“Eleanor Rigby” most of all) being his, much as the great “For No One” is one of those love songs by him with disturbingly controlling lyrics. Yet it’s John’s “Tomorrow Never Knows” that points to dizzying possibilities that will take decades to explore. And a fair proportion of the sounds on the album sound awfully close to show tunes.

But this album is a watershed of another kind; it’s the last album which was followed by a tour. In that sense, it’s the swansong of the Beatles as a band as we know it, all playing together on stage. It’s a masterpiece, but one that belongs right in the middle of their career in more ways than one.

Batman: The Joker Is Wild & Batman Is Riled

The Joker Is Wild

“We think there may be a daring crime plotted!”

I know I keep on banging on about this, but Batman in the comics was not the dark character, or even the Darknight Detective, until the end of the ‘60s at the very earliest when Denny O’Neil and Neal Adams brought back elements of the pulp noir feel of the very early years. But, from the very early ‘40s at the latest, and very much still a thing in 1966 , Batman was a goody two shoes and the comics were rather jolly in tone, certainly with no psychos. That’s the comic this series is adapting, so the high camp tone makes perfect sense.

Except... if you’re not going to portray him as a psychopath, as he is now and was at the very beginning, the Joker is a bit of a rubbish character, isn’t he? Just a giggling loon trying to steal the same sort of prestige stuff as other supervillains but certainly no killing, sadism or darkness. The character falls a bit flat during this period. So Cesar Romero puts in as good a performance as one can expect, and is effective enough but, I think quite clearly, so far it’s easily the Riddler who is top baddie.

Still, this is fun for the usual reasons. The script may not be quite as good without Semple on scribing duties, but it trundles along amusingly enough, with a nice little moment with Batman refusing to park illegally. Like all episodes so far it’s based on a comic book story, on this occasion one that I happen to have read, and it improves notably on the rather rubbish source material.

All the already-established traditions are firmly there- Commissioner Gordon’s stentorian tones before he uses the Batphone, the Batpoles, “Gotham City, 14 miles”, that dash up the steps of the police station. This time we have an amusing, er, springing out of jail from the Joker, who quickly establishes a gang- and, unlike the Penguin but like the Riddler, he has Queenie as his pretty girl (girlfriend?) and token female. We also have Bruce chiding Dick for his reluctance to practice Chopin on the piano because music gives hope for the “brotherhood of man”. Yes, Bruce.

There is a surprisingly early fight, and the Joker is a strangely effective villain with a real talent for publicity and media management. However, it’s increasingly obvious, especially in the big televised opera set piece at the end, that Cesar Romero has refused to shave off his moustache and they’ve just covered it, not very well, with make-up. It’s Henry Cavill in Justice League, fifty years earlier.


Batman Is Riled

“He’s hit us below the belt!”

It’s an interesting cliffhanger- will the Dynamic Duo be unmasked on telly? And the resolution ties into the plot, which is nice- the Joker is jealous of Batman’s utility belt and gets one of his own, so MacGuffins abound. And it’s interesting how the Joker is shown to be winning until the last moment, and making sure the public know about it. A despondent Gotham starts to lose faith in the Batman amid a huge crime wave.

Of course, our heroes win and, in spite of several scenes where they actually seem baffled and struggling for clues, Batman finally outwits the Clown Prince of Crime because of his extensive knowledge, besting millionaire Bruce Wayne, of champagne. There’s a moral for us all there, I feel.

This two parter may be very, very slightly less good than its predecessors, but Batman is still on a very strong opening run.

Batman: Fine Feathered Finks & The Penguin's a Jinx

Fine Feathered Finks

"That pompous waddling master of fowl play..."

After the first two-parter we petty much know the format and it happens here for a second time- the intriguing opening followed by Gotham's police admitting they're unable to deal with this week's villain- the Penguin- leading to the Commissioner striding purposely towards the Batphone with another inspiring speech about how awesome Batman is.

We turn to a frustrated Dick, about to give in with his French verbs until Bruce rebukes him that "Language is the key to world peace". And it's in his deadpan delivery of such splendidly over-the-top goody goody talk that Adam West, already, is showing himself to be a legend. And Burt Ward, while nowhere near as extraordinary, is perfectly cast. It's incredible how much this series arrives so fully-formed in these early episodes.

Lorenzo Semple Jr deserves credit, too, for his hilariously deadpan script- based, as was last week's two parter, on a recent comics story, for this is a far more faithful adaptation of the mid-'60s comics than you think. And, after the sock footage of the Batmobile and the Caped Crusaders running up those police station steps. Here we discover the Penguin has just been released from prison- allowing Batman and his police friend to note with approval the "progressive" policies of Warden Crichton, and when Robin expresses frustration that such an unreformed miscreant has been let loose, he is naturally rebuked. Quite right too.

The Penguin is first glimpsed in his cell as we get to see the charismatic performance of Burgess Meredith- his performance is more mannered and less suggestive of hidden depths that Frank Gorshin's Riddler,  but the mannerisms of his larger than life Penguin are inspired. This is the definitive portrayal of a character that always was, let's face it, very silly indeed. And let us not enquire too closely into how a recently freed felon can afford to open an apparently legitimate umbrella factory.

Incidentally, Penguin refers to "the Batman", with a definitive article. This is surprising to encounter in 1966.

Little moments of silliness abound, such as the Batmobile's "emergency Bat-turn lever", while a bunch of exploding umbrellas are covered with asbestos in a crowded shop, bursting holes in it and presumably giving asbestosis to all present.

The cliffhanger is Bruce Wayne, unconscious, slowly moving into a furnace. Of course, none of the Penguin's gang suspect he's anything but an industrial spy, one of the gang lamenting "Ain't it a shame it ain't the Batman."


The Penguin's a Jinx

"What a drag it is being a famous movie star, and so rich!"

You have to give credit for it: this is a perfect example of a clever and satisfying cliffhanger resolution that really builds up the tension and doesn't cheat. And the Penguin's plan of bugging Batman in order to get ideas for crimes is so much fun we almost forget how very silly it is.

The high camp runs into overdrive with the appearance of movie star Dawn Robbins, lamenting how boring and dehumanising it is to be rich and famous. One could make a point about the objectification of women here, if one so desired, but I don't think this script is much interested in social commentary of more than the amused kind- perhaps a little conservative by default, but good-natured enough.

It's odd to see the Penguin using umbrellas to slide across the line in his kidnapping plot which don't use the handle to slide with, but he has a giant magnet and the Dynamic Duo (was that phrase invented by this series?) are hoist by their own utility belts.

Soon we get the inevitable concluding bout of fisticuffs, though, and all is safe again. But, alas, poor Dawn Robbins is consumed with an unrequited love.

This is such a pleasure to watch. I'm loving it.

Doctor Who: Nikola Tesla’s Night of Terror

“I work for the future. And the future is mine."

Well, that was... perfectly decent. Here we have a celebrity historical which hews very close indeed to the now time-honoured blueprint first seen with The Unquiet Dead as the Doctor visits the Gilded Age New York of 1900. We have a celebrity genius in the vein of a Dickens, Shakespeare or Van Gogh in Nikola Tesla- and the fact he's an inventor rather than a genius of the artistic kind makes little difference to how familiar this feels.

And there's nothing wrong with that, of course: Mark Gatiss' original template is one that works, and there's space in each season for an episode or two that's "trad". It's just a shame that we have, in Nina Metivier, a new writer, and certainly a competent one, but we haven't really heard her voice.

It's an entertaining bit of fun nonetheless. Goran Visnjic is splendid as Tesla while Robert Glenister (thirty-six years after playing the young Salateen in The Caves of Androzani) gives quite a nuanced and interesting, although also larger than life, performance as the genius but morally dodgy Thomas Edison.

The plot is clever and entertaining as the parasitic Skithra, a race of hive mind giant scorpions who travel across the galaxy cannibalising other races' tech, want to kidnap Tesla to be their ship's chief engineer, which is splendidly bonkers. Even better is the fact that Rani herself- Anji Mohindra- is clearly having enormous fun behind all that make-up as the Skithra queen. Interestingly, the tech stolen includes stuff from "Venusians" and a Silurian gun- so presumably a group of Silurians awoke before 1900? But then, I suppose there's also the question of where Madame Vastra came from.

One might perhaps point to the lack of obvious racism shown towards Yaz and Ryan but this, I think, would be churlish: the programme can't just not hire regulars of certain ethnic backgrounds, nor can it restrict itself from setting episodes in huge swathes of history. There have been plenty of instances where the programme has referred to the racist attitudes of the past- not least in Rosa last season. I think that earns it the right to downplay the whole thing sometimes too. We still get good character moments- I like how Graham recognises Edison as a certain type of greedy boss.

So we have a very "trad" episode for modern Doctor Who- a textbook "celebrity historical". And, yet again, an episode that's, well, quite good. No more, no less.

A Midsummer Night's Dream (1968)

"Lord, what fools these mortals be..."

I never knew before tonight's random looking through Amazon Prime that this odd little Peter Hall film existed- associated with the RSC although unconnected with the many screen Shakespeare plays made a decade later.

As a production it's... odd. There is much use of location and visuals, yet this is very much in the style (and with the necessary attitude to realism) of a stag play- I suspect the budget would not allow otherwise. The make-up for the fairies, in particular, I can imagine working well on stage, but their look falls very flat here.

The fun of this production, though, is not in the visuals; it's in seeing this splendid cast of unfeasible young actors (Helen Mirren is in her early twenties here, and none of the leads are over thirty- five) perform one of Shakespeare's plays with which I'm most familiar. And Ians Holm and Richardson, in particular, are truly sublime as Puck and Oberon respectively. Most striking though is a young, sensual Judi Dench as she frolics erotically with Paul Rogers' Bottom... and yes, I know: that's quite a sentence.

Even a flawed production of Shakespeare such as this can showcase some individual performances worth seeing, and this is the case here. And I must admit that this particular version of Pyramus and Thisbe is the funniest I've seen. On the whole, then, a mixed bag- but it was always going to be a joy to see this play with this cast.

Mothra vs Godzilla (1964)

"We feel that we cannot trust humans..."

Another Godzilla film, methinks. And, while we're at it, lets do a sequel to Mothra. And let's make an obviously cheesy B movie notably better than it's expected to be, or needs to be. Even if the cast is starting to look awfully familiar- didn't Japan in the '50s and '60s have a wider group of B movie star actors than this?

Because this film is, indeed, better than it needs to be. Oh, it's more of a sequel to Mothra with Godzilla, despite his screen time, just a prominent guest star, but this simply reflects Mothra's deeper backstory, being goddess of an island in the Pacific whose inhabitants, thankfully, are not blacked up this time.

But there's a proper plot, with story beats in the right places. A giant egg is found; human greed leads to its usual silliness; and then those two miniature ladies from Mothra turn up to provide some much-needed exposition, and for some reason seem to know what a hydrogen bomb is.

But it all works, plot-wise, and masterfully builds both tension and interest. Godzilla arrives and wreaks the usual havoc to an unnamed city that we shall call, well, "Tokyo" which looks, suspiciously, to be entirely made of models. Our heroes- the by-now familiar combo of male journalist with social conscience, klutzy but moral female photographer and obligatory generic scientist- are forced to go to that island from the last Mothra film to beg for help. Fortunately, to a degree, the "natives" are presented with a little more dignity this time. And so Mothra heads to Japan to battle Godzilla and an epic battle ensues after which she, er, dies of old age.

The film concludes as we wait for the egg to hatch in order for a baby Mothra (or two) to give Godzilla the spanking that the short remaining running time demands. It all commands the attention rather strongly, weird though it is to have Iwo Jima mentioned in a film which doesn't star John Wayne. And yes, Ishiro Honda gives s the usual splendid set pieces. A magnificently entertaining film.

Batman: Hey Diddle Riddle & Smack in the Middle

Hey Diddle Riddle

"I'll stand at the bar. I shouldn’t wish to attract attention."

Here we go, then.

I used to watch this on telly all the time in the '80s and early '90s, but it's been considerably more than twenty years since I saw an episode, Now I've picked up the whole series in the January sales, and I'm in for the long haul with this high camp classic.

This brightly coloured adventure serial, and its deadpan camp humour, seem miles away from the somewhat dark character that Batman has become. But the fact is that the noir early comics of '39 didn't last long, and Batman spent the '40s and '50s as a square-jawed do-gooder. Denny O'Neill's "darknight detective" version of the character didn't appear until the very end of the '60s. This series is a more faithful version of the comics of the time than you probably think.

This has all the charm and sense of fun that 1949's plodding Batman and Robin movie serial so clearly lacks. The first episode opens with a fun little introductory voiceover before we head straight into a splendid set piece with an exploding cake. Then... a riddle on a parachute. And we meet the hilariously square jawed Commissioner Gordon, with his comedy sidekick Chief O'Hara... and an Inspector Bash who seems just as prominent. Then we have, for the first time ever, Gordon looking grimly towards the Batphone, and their only hope.

We then briefly meet Alfred, Bruce Wayne, Aunt Harriet and, finally, Dick Grayson. And Adam West (like Neil Hamilton) is a master at playing things exaggeratedly straight as a man driven to fight crime after his parents were killed "by dastardly criminals". And for the first time we see the ultimate moment of high camp as the bookshelf slides aside to reveal a sign saying "Access to Batcave by Batpoles, and individual poles marked "Dick" and "Bruce". I'm already in love with this programme.

So many firsts... the Batmobile. Robin's first "Batteries to power, turbines to speed". The first (uninterrupted) climb up a wall. And, in the Riddler, our first villain- only a minor comics character in 1966 but made immortal by Frank Gorshin's incredibly nuanced performance riding the exact line between comedy villain and dangerous psychopath, whose laughter is just the right side of unhinged and whose latent hint of violence never quite crosses the line. Meanwhile, Batman pauses just before they jump through a window t gently upbraid Robin on pedestrian safety.

And then- a '60s nightclub in all its glory- and Robin is left outside because he's underage. Molly flirting with Batman. And, most awesomely of all, Batman doing the very dance that Pulp Fiction would have Uma Thurman homage 28 years later. I don't even care if the first ever cliffhanger is a bit rubbish.



Smack in the Middle

"Don't you know that crime never pays?"

I like the recaps with the stills and the excited voiceover. I also like the extraordinary tension between Frank Gorshin and Jill St John, she of Diamonds Are Forever and the first of many femme fatales whom Batman will hope to reform. Her little subplot is laugh out loud for us watching adults- our first sight of her dressing up as Robin with the Riddler comes across very much as a sex game, and Gorsgin has the Riddler juuuust the right side of a menacingly sexual leer, stopping just short of hinting at sexual violence.

Batman's effortless seeing through Molly's disguise is, of course, deliberately silly, as is her falling into the Batcave's nuclear core (ah, those days before Health and Safety), which makes no sense whatsoever but isn't supposed to.

After a bit of riddling and misdirection we finally get Batman and Robin shooting the Riddler's goons- and our first experience of seeing words like "Krunch!" on screen. The Riddler gets a suitably ambiguous exit, Bruce mopes a bit over Molly and we end on, er, some algebra.

So that's the formula. And a splendid formula it is- to the kids, just like the old movie serials with lots of set pieces and added colourful villains. But it's the truly magnificent high camp script from the great Lorenzo Semple Jr, and the equally splendid performances, that make this so extraordinary.

The Sopranos: I Dream of Jeannie Cusamano

"Cunnilingus and psychiatry brought us to this."

This is a fitting, perfect and superlative finale- almost. It wraps everything up nicely (except for Pussy's whereabouts) in terms both of plot and character arcs, It a supremely well structured, written, shot and acted hour of telly. But there's one horrifying moment of bigotry that seriously maims this finale. And that's a shame.

We begin with a calm, cheerful, reinvigorated Tony plotting is revenge while the Feds are planning to strike- and the season finale is a likely time for them to do so. And then a lot of things happen.

The first to die is Jimmy, the rat- his death ordered by Tony after Junior gives the nod. Meanwhile Tony is scarily violent towards Dr Melfi when she suggests his mother may be behind the attempt on his life as punishment for putting her in a home, seemingly severing that relationship forever- only to be played a tape by the FBI which proves Dr Melfi right by doubt. Their later reconciliation is, though seemingly unlikely, both convincing and touching- here is one woman whom Tony seriously respects.

One relationship that is certainly severed is between Carmela and Father Phil, whom she confronts magnificently. She says that he manipulates "spiritually thirsty women", that he's a parasite who enjoys "the whiff of sexuality that never goes anyplace". Ouch. Whether any of this may be aimed at religion in general is not something I will be touching with a bargepole anytime soon.

Junior's two main underlings are killed by Tony's underlings, after he tells them of his seeing a shrink- and cleverly uses that to tie them to him. Junior escapes only by being arrested and charged- and, with his old school valus of Omerta, Tony is ironically now safe, and secure as boss. We end with a nice moment as Tony proposes a toast to his "family"- but which one?

Splendid telly, then. Except... it's suggested, probably accurately, that Livia may have borderline personality disorder. Fair enough, and more than plausible. But let's say I've been close to someone with BPD, and when Dr Melfi is made to say that "these people have no love or compassion".... wow. I'm speechless. Let's just say that I have a more nuanced view. This is a truly shocking thing to hear, it mars the episode severely, and it may be some time before I watch the second series.

A shame. There's no denying the quality here.

The Sopranos: Isabella

"Top guys have dark moods..."

The penultimate episode, and Tony has succumbed completely to the black dog, in what is a fascinating way to portray depression through performance, music and artistic camerawork- even with a snippet of Garbage's splendid "Temptation Waits". But this seems to be a bad time for this to happen; despite Junior's obvious unease, and disinclination to know the details, the hit on Tony is about to happen.

It's an interesting point in the season to go full-on in the portrayal of depression- but the conceit is, of course, that the experience of almost dying gives Tony the jolt he needs, something which the Prozac and Valium didn't manage to do. He finishes the episode feeling good and raring for revenge.

It’s not just an episode focused on Tony, though; Junior spends the whole episode uneasy, and nearly panics when the “carjacking” goes awry. And Livia, in quite a state of cognitive dissonance having pretty much instigated her own son’s attempted murder, starts to show more serious signs of dementia. And Tony’s dream of Isabella, the exchange student next door, is clearly important, especially once it’s revealed that he imagined her- a properly loving mother figure, as opposed to his actual mother. Who is always talking about infanticide. Hmm. This is very clever and gripping telly.

Also significantly, Tony turns down an offer of immunity from the FBI- he swore an oath, he’s reinvigorated and there’s an episode to go. He has things to do...

Doctor Who: Orphan 55

“That's a funny kind of linen cupboard..."

Not all episodes of Doctor Who have to be classics; they just have to try and be, at least quite good. It's reassuring, then, that last year's slightly disappointing season is followed by an excellent special, a superb opening two parter which seems to change the rules and is then followed by an episode which is, well, quite good. This may be no classic, and may not be as good as Ed Hime's superb It Takes You Away from last season but, if this is the baseline, this season is going to be a considerable improvement.

This is a story of the week- give or take possible romantic implications for Ryan, which I'll come to in a bit. But in one sense this story is important. Last year the Amazon burned. Australia is burning right now. Global heating is no longer a background threat but is reaching a very real crisis point. It would have been unforgivable for Doctor Who to fail to address this, and I'm glad that it has done so with such force and emphasis, even in a story which may be only quite good. Even the Doctor's concluding monologue, fourth wall or no, packs an effective punch. This is, I think, Doctor Who's attempt at a Tharg's Future Shock- a type of story it ought to be able to do.

And let's just agree to ignore the increasingly tiresome crowd who object to Doctor Who getting political- it was ever thus. Environmental issues may have been done better in The Green Death and, indeed, as a subtext through the whole Pertwee era, but they're nothing new for the programme. There is, I think, a more interesting critique in that this feels closer than Doctor Who usually does to being hard science fiction- something which is not all that common in this science fantasy programme, and something which tends to foreground its political subtext.

It doesn't feel like hard science fiction at the start, though- I'm reminded of the junk mail robot at the start of The Greatest Show in the Galaxy and, for much of the episode, of the entirety of Paradise Towers. It feels, for a great chunk of the episode, that fandom is going to have to resurrect the old term "oddball story". And the story slowly unfolds through some quickly sketched but quirky characters, none of whom have much depth but all of whom have enough personality traits to entertain. There's even, in Bella, a possible love interest for Ryan, who inevitably ends up occupying the narrative role of baddie but seems quite definitely redeemable- and is last seen snogging Ryan before facing a very uncertain fate. Will we, and Ryan, see her again? Or is this just a one off harbinger of romance for Ryan? Perhaps with Yaz? Time will tell.

But the big shock is the big shock of the reveal- they're in Novosibirsk, in Siberia, on Earth. It's a definite Ravolox moment, as I'm sure all of fandom has pointed out by now, echoing The Mysterious Planet. The story titl suddenly looks very Christopher H. Bidmead. Those fearsome alien baddies, like the xenomorphs in Alien, are us. And this world is a future Earth, its VIP's long since buggered off, rendered no longer habitable to anyone but monsters- and we, of course, should we allow this to happen, are the real monsters.

In-universe, the interesting thing here is that this fate, one of runaway global heating, mass migration, war and nuclear holocaust, is just "one possible future". It'd never been directly stated that everywhere the TARDIS lands isn't just one big continuity; plenty of stories feed into other stories, but here that supposition is thrown very much into doubt. What, I wonder, would Lance Parkin and Jean-Marc L'Officier say? Personally, yes, I raise an eyebrow. But, as the much-missed Terrance Dicks used to say, continuity should never exist in order to get in the way of a good story. This story may only be quite good, yes. But it's a story that needed to be told.

Oh, and another thing... Mrs Llamastrangler's YouTube channel is here. It's about coins. Be awesome if you could subscribe...

Carrie (1976)

“Thou shall not suffer a witch to live!”

This is a superb film. It really is. But it’s reputation as a horror film is not quite right. I don’t care how scary Sissy Spacek looks, emotionless and demonic as she gracefully, calmly and indiscriminately kills people , and in slow motion. At the dance. This isn’t a horror film. It’s a tragedy. And Carrie’s tragic flaw, sadly, is both her abusive upbringing and the savage bullying she endures. Abuse of children behind closed doors, and bullying in schools unchecked by adults, are two great evils of this and every age.

The film is shot superbly, with camera angles, viewpoints and (during the prom climax) slow motion being used to an effect of both suspense and beauty. I can understand why this is considered Brian De Palma's masterpiece, although one has to question why it was necessary to have a slow motion tour of the naked bodies of characters who are eighteen-ish years old, even if the actresses playing them are not so young. As a 42 year old man I'm not entirely comfortable with being forced like this to be a voyeur in a school changing room for girls.

That aside, though, the film is a faultlessly unfolding tragedy. Teenagers can indeed be that evil, and adults that negligent of the consequences- although, of course, Miss Collins in particularly doesn't deserve to die so horribly, which itself is the point. And, were I a religious man- which I am not- I would reserve a particularly nasty bit of Hell for people like Margaret White, religious fanatics who abusively raise their children in fear and a life-hating aversion of "sins" which hurt no one. Margaret is filled with a burning disgust of sex which, at first, makes me suspect an abusive past but no- from what we're told it's all fanaticism. The worst thing about her ex-husband having sex with her was that "I liked it". And the religion is no excuse for her being such a terrible mother, any more than it excuses sexism, homophobia or anything of the sort. Plenty of highly religious people are capable of doing none of these things. Interesting, though, that we are presented with no external tragedy in Margaret's life. I wonder whether the novel was any different?

A superb and very well directed tragedy that I had no business waiting until now to see, however weird it is to see a very young Nancy Allen as a bullying schoolgirl.

Dracula: Blood Vessel

“The sophistication of a gentleman, Agatha, is always a veneer...”

Ah. It's good to get another Moffat/Gatiss season to binge on, or savour, as one's lifestyle permits- these episodes are bloody ninety minutes long, you know.  But this is another good one. Not as good as the opening episode, granted, but it wouldn't be; middle episodes rarely are.

What this episode manages to do is take the somewhat claustrophobic premise of Dracula's long sea voyage from the Balkans to Whitby and construct a taut little thriller which, for those of you reading this who are Doctor Who fans (and I suspect many of you are), tends to evoke the mood of Horror of Fang Rock, except with more blood. Much more blood. I don't recall this aspect of Stoker's novel being so heavily focused on in any previous screen version, although the brief scenes in Nosferatu are certainly iconic.

It is, of course, a relatively cheap episode but one full of wit, incident,  scares, suspense and (thank whatever gods may happen to exist) Dolly Wells once more as the supremely quotable Sister Agatha. It's also full of a splendid cast which, as many of us are indeed Doctor Who fans, includes both Catherine Schell (still a beautiful woman, probably) and Sacha Dhawan, who is having quite the month.

The mystery of Cabin 9 is nicely handled, and the various passengers all have their little secrets and peccadilloes. The plot is awfully clever but, again, is restrained; this isn't Sherlock and there are more jump scares than narrative tricks. The narrative tricks are there nevertheless, though, and we get a superb twist at the end, as Sister Agatha manages to bury Dracula beneath the waves (shades of the Angel season four finale) for longer than he thought...

A rare vintage indeed. To be savoured.

Pearl Jam- Ten (1991)

It’s very, very weird listening to this album for the first time in years. Back in the early ‘90s it was a seminal classic, and Eddie Vedder’s voice just blows us away. But it’s 2020, and Pearl Jam have grown and developed hugely as a band; some of their best work has been long after the days of their youth- and I’d argue that Backspacer, from 2009, is their best album.

Listening to Ten these days is to hear Pearl Jam at an embryonic stage. It doesn’t sound much like the band they would become: indeed, it has far more in common with Mother Love Bone and especially Temple of the Dog in terms of the songwriting than with every subsequent Pearl Jam album.

Eddie Vedder’s voice, too, although it blew us away at the time, doesn’t quite sound ripe here; his voice and his technique has developed a hell of a lot over the years. Then there’s the lyrics. Now, I love Pearl Jam. Several of their albums are amongst my “comfort” albums. But there’s no denying that the young Eddie was a troubled soul, and unfortunately some of his lyrics can be heartfelt but, well, sixth form poetry bad. Sometimes this can lead to bathos, and “Black” is an unfortunate example.

You can still see why this album was such a huge hit- “Even Flow”, “Once”, “Alive” and “Deep” have lost none of their power. But this album is essentially juvenalia. The band would go on to achieve much greater things.

King Kong vs Godzilla (1962)

"Don't blame them if their god eats you both..."

I know it's midweek, but we've eaten and washed up early, so there's time for the next Godzilla film- the first in colour- and this one not only picks right up from where we left off but co-stars the most famous cinematic beast of all: King Kong.

It's an oddly comedic film, with the usual comedy heroic duo out-slapsticked by their absurd boss, but this approach works in a film which was always going to subsist as a piece of low camp at its most loveable. The costumes obviously have men inside, the tanks are obviously models, and it's amusing so see the camera pan slowly around an electrical substation later on, confirming via the grammar of such films that the substation will later be destroyed in exciting fashion.

We begin with parallel plotlines as an expendable American nuclear submarine awakens Godzilla and is quickly destroyed, while our comedy heroes investigate that island from King Kong for reasons which are said to relate to the advertising of pharmaceuticals but make no sense whatsoever.

The island is a pretty good copy of the 1933 original except, of course, that the "natives" are all Japanese extras in blackface. Oh dear. There's also a very silly scene in which the island chief is amused by a transistor radio as our comedy heroes give out free cigarettes to all and sundry, including a little kid. Oh dear.

There are plenty of exciting set pieces, including an inconclusive early battle between the two monsters where Kong is sent running. Kong also gets a pretty girl to snatch out of a rail carriage  and take to the top of a building, as he's contractually obliged to do. Plenty of model tanks again appear and poor old Tokyo, which can't have been rebuilt for very long, is trashed once more.

We end with a suitably epic clash ending up with Kong swimming home, as Godzilla's fate remains uncertain. That was... pretty much exactly as you'd expect, and good fun,

The Sopranos: Nobody Knows Anything

"A feeling of pending doom?"

This is indeed a doom-laden episode, as dark as Tony's mood, full of paranoia, depression and unease, and making both us and the characters question things. The FBI are on the warpath, and the ground is shifting beneath everyone's feet.

The main plot thread centres on the presence of a mole, and the possibility- plausible, until the last moment- that likeable old Pussy may be wearing a wire for the Feds. This turns out to be a massive piece of misdirection, but damage has been done- we end with Pussy missing and Tony despondent, looking very much at risk of a further panic attack.

Worse, Tony's pet cop reaches a low after his arrest for using a bordello, and jumps off a bridge. And Livia shows herself to be truly evil, as allegedly poisonous as her namesake. We have an early scene where Carmela visits her, rolling her eyes at the obvious tricks and calling her out on her manipulative ways. But far more gullible is Junior, who she finally manipulates into decoding to kill her son- and it's fascinating to ponder why she hates him so. Tony ends the episode oblivious, but in real danger.

e also have one bit of comic relief around the dinner table- Meadow, interestingly, sides very much with the recently impeached President Clinton whose misdeeds were, yes, not remotely as nefarious as those of the imbecile Trump, but nevertheless a massive abuse of power. 1999, in some respects, was a very long ago, much as it may not feel so.

As ever, a superb piece of telly. Not long now until the season is don...

The Doors- The Doors (1967)

I don't know why, but there seemed to be a phase, a couple of years ago, to diss the Doors as overrated. It felt forced at the time and still does; none of their later albums (most of which are very good indeed) come close to matching this incendiary debut, but it hits you just as hard at the start of 2020 as it did in the start of 1967.

Yes, I know Jim Morrison was a misogynistic wanker who would quite rightly be in huge #MeToo trouble now if he'd lived. His poetry was often arrogant, self-centred and cringeworthily bad. He was a child of considerable privilege- his dad was the American admiral in the 1964 Tonkin incident, randomly enough- but there's no doubt about the effectveness of his voice, much as it may be easy to dislike the man.

And the band, despite being so iconic of its age, simply doesn't sound very '60s at all. For a band which belongs with Californian psychedelia, its sound evokes the '80s British Goth and post-punk bands so strongly influenced by The Doors more than any of their peers. And that prescient sound is present throughout this album.

That's in spite of "The End" evoking Vietnam and Apocalypse Now so very strongly. The album also contains the justly famous "Break on Through" and "Light My Fire", but the best song on it is undoubtedly "The Crystal Ship." A superlative album crammed with classic songs which still feel fresh even today, and have inspired so much.

Dracula: The Rules of the Beast

“I’m undead. I’m not unreasonable...”

Well, obviously, this is going to be clever, awesome and very literate indeed; it’s written by Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. You don’t go into a first episode from them and expect it to be rubbish- and it certainly isn’t. I’ve only seen the first episode thus far, but it’s a superlative but of telly without a doubt. Yet it wasn’t quite what I expected.

I’m not saying the structure of the story isn’t clever. I’m not saying the dialogue isn’t witty. But both, while masterfully done, are notably restrained. This isn't Sherlock, it's horror. It's jump scares, horrific concepts (Here, some people just randomly become undead when they die, some become vampires, and only a select few retain their sentience after a while. Most just scratch at their coffins. And this is a secret known to gravediggers around the world. Shiver.) at a Dracula, in Claes Bang, who may very possibility be the very best screen Count ever. And yes: I'm saying this in a world where Christopher Lee once walked, and realise what I'm saying. Bang is that good.

John Hefferman is ideal as Jonathan Harker, too, but the other standout performance is from Dolly Wells as the drily witty Sister Agatha- the hero, I suspect, of the series; her surname at least gives strong indications. She is, I suppose, our Peter Cushing- a deliciously quotable nun who has, perhaps, lost her faith but who is determined to understand, and combat, the undead.

It's 1897- the year Bram Stoker's novel was written, although not when it was set. The action is split between Transylvania and Budapest, both still part of a Habsburg Hungary. This is literally a tale of the Gothic- Dracula is an ancient horror from an old, labyrinthine castle in the wild east of Austria-Hungary, planning to move to the more "modern" England to kill, feast and be replete.  The episode is, I think, set up for this- an origin story of sorts, loosely following the early parts of the novel.

The plot begins with nods to past iterations- the scene where Harker and Dracula meet is very Bela Lugosi, right down to the "I never drink... wine". But we soon depart from this to a narrative with twists and turns which satisfyingly surprise us without ever becoming overly labyrinthine; we shall leave that to the castle's architecture. We have suspense, scares and just one little Doctor Who in-joke; we are introduced to our new Count and his world, and is good. Mrs Llamastrangler and I are hooked.

That cliffhanger, though....I don't care about Mina, but please let Sister Agatha live.

Doctor Who: Spyfall, Part Two

“By the way, I bring news from home...”

Wow. Ok, this blog post is going to be one of the longer ones.

Obviously, that was brilliant, and Chibnall has far outdone anything he did last season- and this two parter is not only superb but a statement of intent, giving us a new big story arc behind the spy stuff and giving us a story that, structurally, feels very much like a Virgin New Adventure novel in not only its use of cyberspace (or social media, as we call it these days) but the sheer number of elements in the story- alien Cold War type spies from another dimension using multiple time zones and figures from the history of computing, anyone? I don’t care if the plot doesn’t make sense; the sleight of hand works and that’s enough. The random timey-wimeyness and use of Ada Lovelace, Noor Inayat Khan and Charles Babbage.

In fact, the sheer number of elements in the plot felt very Steven Moffat. So did the way the second episode of a two-parter veered into very different territory from the first part, very reminiscent of Silence in the Library. All this shows Chibnall learning from his predecessor, and is a good thing. But I especially liked that it was about something- how we are all happily surrendering our privacy and intimate lives to unaccountable and unregulated tycoons very much like Daniel Barton (and Lenny Henry is utterly, utterly superb)- I’m looking at you, Zuckerberg.

But, of course, there’s the interplay between the Doctor and the Master at the heart of everything- and the chemistry between these incarnations is electric. It seems, pleasingly, that Chibnall is trying to recreate the Pertwee/Delgado dynamic where the Master doesn’t so much want to kill the Doctor as play games with her. We get a shoutout to the sound of drums. And Sacha Dhawan is absolutely a worthy Master, getting to do so many of  the Master’s signature tricks here, with a Wizard of Oz TARDIS to boot.

Incidentally, isn’t this the Master’s first explicit TARDIS of his own since Mark of the Rani?

And yet... there’s something behind this. All throughout the Master is dropping hints about both a massive retcon and what’s happened to Gallifrey- and so, once the Master is defeated in a satisfying and credible way- albeit one that owes a LOT to The Curse of the Fatal Death- we get a coda, as the Doctor visits Gallifrey and finds the Citadel empty and devastated. At first it looks as though Chibnall is doing another RTD, another “Last of the Time Lords”, but he quickly undercuts this with something deeper as the Master appears as a hologram in the TARDIS, just as the Doctor did to Rose in The Parting of the Ways, to admit that it was all his doing- and it was all an act of fury after discovering a massive lie in Gallifreyan history: “They lied to us, the founding fathers of Gallifrey”. And this is the “lie of the Timeless Child”, as mentioned in The Ghost Monument.

It’s also a very nice touch that Yasmin, Graham and Ryan get their own cool little James Bond adventure while all this is happening, complete with cool gadgets, but this is also the episode where they finally resolve to get the Doctor to tell them who she is... and she does. Up to a point. She has so much more to tell them and I’m sure we all have so much more to discover about Gallifrey’s last. I love me a good, epic arc.

A magnificent start to the season, then. Let’s hope Chibnall can keep it up.

Union Jack: Family

“Why be Baby Spice when you can be Scary?”

Now that was clever. Not at all the sort of superhero ending we may have expected from both our expectations of the genre and, indeed, the build-up, but a rather smartly done little deconstruction of that very trope... along with some nice little building of an Invaders Initiative which, I hope, we will see assembled, as promised.

The final showdown looks, at first, to be heading towards a final showdown between Joe and the Baroness. She lures Lady J to the crypt by presenting to be the late Ken, and gruesomely turns Edith into a vampire... only for the poor, badass but doomed sidekick to be killed by Jasmine. And then, Joe  and Romany burst into the lounge at Falsworth Manor to get the Baroness....

And find her calmly having a cuppa with Lady J. And Gavin. After all, if Lily’s son (John) is Lady J’s grandson, and new Falsworth blood, why does anyone need to fight, or die? Far better to just put the kettle on instead. So they do. Brilliant. It’s a knowing deconstruction of superhero showdown spectaculars, done very Britishly, with tea. The perfect ending.

And, meanwhile, Gavin is busy tracking down members, many of whom we’ve met, for his Invaders Initiative. Good. This has been brilliant, superbly written and made. I hope we get more.

Update- and Mrs Llamastrangler’s YouTube channel

Hi all,

I’m quite conscious that I haven’t blogged since New Year’s day- crazy hours at work, no free time and this weekend we’re driving from Leicestershire to just outside Newcastle and back to pick up Little Miss Llamastrangler from the mother in law, so I’m not sure what time I’ll have to watch and blog stuff, if any.

I’m aware I have lots of blogging piling up- A Christmas Carol, the Union Jack finale, Atypical, Godzilla, the BBC’s Dracula which has come at exactly the wrong point in the year for me being able to cope with 90 minute episodes, a new episode of Doctor Who on Sunday, and of course The Sopranos. It’s all piling up.

Bear with me; things will get to normal in a few days and I’ll catch up. I’ve even decided which older series I’ll be blogging after The Sopranos. I’ll get to the second season of Tony and co later this year.

In the meantime, Mrs Llamastrangler, or Gem BU as she’s known in the coin collecting world, has started a YouTube channel on coin collecting, here:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC9GEH8aNqRIJeyw0S49VUTA

So, you know, if several thousand people could subscribe, that would be awesome!

Plans for 2020

Good morning, Happy New Year and all that. Let’s just try not to think about Boris and Brexit, shall we?

So what am I planning for the blog? Well, as ever, current telly tends to get blogged as soon as possible. I should be able to finish Union Jack tonight. Beyond that, obviously, Doctor Who is back. It’s not as easy as it used to be to guarantee blogging an episode on the eventing of broadcast as these days it’s no longer on Saturdays and I usually have work in the morning, but nine times out of ten I should be ok. Then there’s Dracula, of course- obviously I’m impatient to watch and blog this as soon as possible, but it’s hard to find time for ninety minute episodes especially now I’m back at work with  early starts, and the weekend involves me driving from Leicestershire to North Tyneside to pick up Little Miss Llamastrangler from the in-laws. But rest assured I’ll blog it as soon as poss.

Then we have those last few episodes of Atypical, which Mrs Llamastrangler and I are watching together when the mood strikes us, so there’s no particular schedule for that one. Spare school nights will mean those last few episodes of the first season of The Sopranos, after which something else for a bit- not decided what. And any weekend nights will be films. That’s the schedule, such as it is.

Hopefully I’ll be back tonight, and anyone new to the blog for Union Jack or Doctor Who- welcome!

Doctor Who: Spyfall, Part One

“The name's Doctor.The Doctor."

About bloody time. Another hiatus is over and Chris Chibnall’s second full season begins. I’ll make no secret of the fact I was somewhat underwhelmed by last season, in spite of a strong cast and generally sound show running decisions: Chibnall has shown good judgement while overseeing the show. But that doesn’t make him a particularly great writer, unfortunately. There’s some decent stuff in his track record but his scripts have never stood out, and he’s certainly not remotely comparable to an RTD or a Moff, and last season’s scripts by him tended to be weak points. Still, Resolution last year was much better; let us hope it was a good sign.

I’m also a little disturbed by a lazy narrative that seems to have emerged over the reaction to last season- that those of us with concerns are objecting to Jodie as a female Doctor or the liberal political leanings of stories like Rosa or Demons of the Punjab. This is, of course, nonsense: most of us are sensible types who are well aware that anyone using the word “snowflake” in a non-meteorological context needs to have their adulting licence revoked. The casting of Jodie as a female Doctor was a hugely positive step- but can we please give the character of the Doctor some actual development? And as for Doctor Who being a bit liberal and having a social conscience- that’s an ancient tradition from the anti-racist message of Remembrance of the Daleks to the environmentalist message of The Green Death or even as far back as Planet of Giants. One wonders how those people who apparently think Doctor Who is too left wing would have made of Malcolm Hulme. I’m afraid that’s how the programme has always been.

No; I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the programme’s style, direction or broad show running approach. It’s just that the scripts have on average been sub-par. Will Season Thirty-Eight show any improvement?

This is the first two-parter of the Chibnall era and, I believe, the first since 1989 to have an overall story title rather than individual ones. It’s the first time in fifty-six years (The Enemy of the World is tenuous) that Doctor Who has done James Bond. It's got our first pre-titles teaser since Chibnall took over. It's also got a rejigged theme tune and title sequence- I like it.

It's also awesome. I'm not sure Chibnall will be able to keep it up but this is his second very, very good script in a row. The James Bond stuff is fun- the ridiculous number of gadgets, the casino party in tuxedos, the constant spying theme, and a brief but scene-stealing role for the great Stephen Fry as "C". We also get a motorbike chase- Pertwee would have loved this. The perilous sat nav scene was awesome, and far better than the similar scene in The Sontaran Stratagem. But the spies are not only alien but seem to be beings made of energy, wanting to invade our universe... perhaps. And Lenny Henry is excellent as a sinister IT tycoon and Bond villain... or is he? He's dodgy in a Mark Zuckerberg, privacy-invading sort of way, probably giving us the real-world subtext of what the story may end up being about, but could he be a red herring?

It's encouraging, too, that all four regulars get decent amounts of stuff to do, although the globe-trotting premise (South Africa is made to stand in for Ivory Coast and Australia, at least) certainly helps. Yaz, in particular, seems to be receiving some development as a character- we begin to see tensions appear between her travels in the TARDIS and her career as a police officer.

But THAT cliffhanger... I never suspected, being completely unspoiled, that Sacha Dhawan, having previously played Waris Hussein, would be the new Master. I punched the air, and again with the extra reveal of the Tissue Compression Eliminator. Even more intriguingly, before the cliffhanger ending with a bomb, a plane, and the Doctor somehow ending up in some other reality, he tells the Doctor that "Everything you think you know is wrong". Is this heralding a major retcon on the Time Lords this season, or the Doctor's past? What about the "Timeless Child" stuff from last season?

Regardless, I'm well and truly hooked. Best season opener since Deep Breath. Possibly.