Black Flag- Damaged (1981)

This is a very odd debut album for Black Flag. Oh, of course, it's an excellent collection of songs, despite the occasional tiresome exhortation to teetotalism with songs such as "TV Party" (banger though it may be) and "Six Pack"- I, for one, will most certainly be enjoying a bottle of red tonight, and I'd urge you to do the same. And Henry Rollins too...

But yes, a good number of classics on here- "Gimme Gimme Gimme" leading the pack. And yet... by this point, we'd heard many of them before, with earlier singers, and most of these songs had been around a while- 1981 really was awfully late for Black Flag's first album, showcasing a style that they'd sort of already moved beyond by this point.

Then there's Henry Rollins. Not the most technically brilliant singer (Freddie Mercury he is not, to state the bleeding obvious), but this is punk, and he's a magnificent, charismatic frontman- the fact that he's bloody good at stand-up says a lot. He's great. But... many of these songs weren't written for a singer of his style, and it shows.

Still, despite those caveats, this just IS a great collection of songs. Much as this album would've been better if it had been recorded a little earlier, it's undeniably a classic.

Scanners (1981)

 "You murdered the future!"

Before I get into it... yes, I haven't blogged for about a week and there won't be much for the next week either. Nothing bad, just life stuff.

It's been a while since I blogged a Cronenberg, hasn't it? Don't get me wrong: all his stuff is bloody good. But the early body horror films are particularly delightful... if that's the word.

This film is a masterpiece. The use of the camera and of music, as ever, creates a uniquely Cronenberg atmosphere. Interior spaces always seem so very liminal. And then we have the subject matter... psychic nutters who can read your mind while making you feel ill, move objects with their mind... and make your head explode. There are some deeply effective body horror moments, not least with the duel at the end. Those pulsing veins... brr!

The performances... well, they're generally bland, Michael Ironside and the ever-superb Patrick McGoohan being very much the exception, but it doesn't matter. This isn't a film about characters, about people. It's about themes, the horror, the ongoing mystery and the visuals.

The big reveal at the end, about what's really been going on, is clever, satisfying and topical. Big Pharma can indeed be a bad thing. Just, y'know, don't let that lead you down the rabbit holes of anti-vaxxer nonsense or "alternative" medicine.

Do you feel a nosebleed coming on...?

The Pledge (1981)

 “There's no peace for a dead man..."

Yes, it’s another old adaptation of an old horror short story tonight- this time it’s The Highwayman, by Lord Dunsany, who comes well recommended by no less a figure than Neil Gaiman. You will find the original story here: this is a fairly straight retelling.

And yet... the plot is hardly the point. The original vignette is all mood, atmosphere, dread. Very little happens, but we feel a kind of existential terror.Soit is with this shorty film, with its grainy cinematography and moody moorlands... and the horrible corpsecswinging on the gallows, decaying more and more with every shot, its lips forever stuck in a cry of pain and its mouth swimming with maggots.

Effectively, we see short scenes from Tom's ill-fated life, of rape, of robbery, of murder.And we hear his death sentence as we see the horrid corpse swing from side to side.

This is twenty short minutes. Yet it's a real triumph of moody, visual horror.

The Day of the Triffids (1981): Part Five

 "Hey! Can't you kiss her indoors?"

This, like its predecessors, is a gripping and thought-provoking episode. Plot-wise, it's simple. Bill finds a disillusioned Coker, they bond, they philosophise, they find a rather naive community of unworldly Christians, they philosophise some more. Coker then returns to bash the community into shape while bill goes on a quest for Jo, picking up a little girl called Susan along the way.

Yet the plot is not the point. The core is Coker's monologue- one day the loot and the petrol will run out. By then, they will need to have learned how to farm, to plough, to make things. And for that they will need a large community so there's enough surplus labour to read up on these things. He's right.

For we see, everywhere, Triffids triumphant over the stung or diseased corpses of human beings. Humanity is not winning. I expect the ending to be downbeat and open, but I also expect it to be bloody good.

The Day of the Triffids (1981): Part One

 "If it were a choice of survival between a blind man and a Triffid, I knoew which I'd put my money on."

Obviously, being the sort of chap, I've read the John Wyndham novel several times, although probably not since John Major was prime minister, so it's been a while. Suffice to say I loved it, but was a wee slip of a lad at the time. And still am, of course, at a mere forty-five years.

This is the first adaptation I've seen, and I'm impressed. It's incredibly cheap so far, of course, very close to being a one-hander with John Duttine as Bill, other characters appearing only in flashback, and relativrly few sets in this all but studio bound production. Only on brief occasions do we have the building entirely surrounded by film.

The tape recorder is a bit obvious as an excuse for exposition, but I'll admit the premise is well-introduced and the storytelling is clear, as we feel throughout the tension building for both the world, as we slowly realise what has gone wrong, and Bill, whose worries for his eyesight are shared by us.

And those Triffids avtually look bloody terrifying.

I'm very impressed indeed so far.

Clash of the Titans (1981)

 "Once he tried to ravish me disguised as a cuttlefish..."

This is Ray Harryhausen's last film. His career was, of course, long and magnificent, but the best bits were the three Sinbad films and this. Harryhausen the American stop motion genius- surely the greatest special effects maestro of all time, from a time before CGI- finished his career here, gracing us with his presence in this England until the end of his pleasingly long days. By all accounts he was a really nice bloke, a good thing to hear particularly of a genius.

He does his usual brilliant stuff in this film- the kraken, the owl, the vulture, Medusa and so on, as he always does. As usual, he gets his ezxecutrive producer credit to demonsrate that,unusually, the special effects guy is one of the stars. Ray Harryhausen was unique. I can't see us knowing his like again.

This is the tale of Perseus, from the myths, pretty much straight, or at least as straight as the practicalities of stop motion will allow. Harry Hamlin and Judi Bowker are competent and pretty, but the real acting chops lie elsewhere. We have Burgess Meredith, first and foremost, outshining everyone. But we also have the gods, capricious as the myths demand. And so we have Larry himself as Zeus, Jack Gwillim as Poseidon and a veritable pantheon of goddeses with Ursula Andress, Claire Bloom and the extraordinary Maggie Smith as Thetis.

The film is a refreshingly straightforward and highly straightforward retelling of the myth. It's a B movie, whatever its fame. It may be a tad slowy paced at times, but I challenge you not to love it.

Halloween II (1981)

 "I've been trick or treated to death tonight!"

This, despite its fairly high wattage cast and its script credit for John Carpenter, may be an above average horror film but it can't hold a pumpkin to the original. Yes, Jamie Lee Curtis and Donald Pleasence (despite his accent slipping a bit) are very good. Yes, the killings are effectively done in a way which places this above your average slasher. But the first film was superb, and shot with aplomb by Carpenter himself. This is a bit of a let down in comparison. Such is, I suppose, the fate of most sequels.

There's some interesting stuff here, not least of which is the intriguing twist at the end. It's leaned into, but not made explicit, that Michael Myers may be a bit supernatural. After all, Loomis does shoot him six times, and he may have mentioned it once or twice.

There's also some nice use of Night of the Living Dead being shown on the telly in one of the killings, a nice echo of the parallel use of The Thing from Another World in the first film. The acting and dialogue are decent, and there's a reasonable amount of character stuff for this sort of film.

Still, there's not an awful lot here that's fresh, and a lot of that is down to the decision to make this the story of the few hours immediately after the first film. These events feel like an extended postscript, and they are exactly that. A fairly decent slasher but, disappointingly given its predecessor, no more than that.

The War Hound and the World’s Pain by Michael Moorcock

It’s time to blog a novel not written by Roger Zelazny, I think. Eventually I will blog all sorts of authors. I may have a taste for literary science fiction and fantasy these days, but it’s all part of a balanced diet. Hopefully, within a year or two, this blog’s Novels Index will reflect the broad nature of my tastes.

So, Michael Moorcock. This is one of only two of his works I’d previously read. I first read this novel on a long flight between London and Los Angeles in 2008 or 2009, I forget in which direction. The initial meeting with Lucifer had stayed with me, as well as the idea of the Mittelmarch. But rereading it this time round it felt fresh and new, with the world, characters and subtext much richer.

 I’m aware, of course, that this is part of Moorcock’s Eternal Champion sequence, of which I know little at this point. It isn’t the first novel within this sequence which Moorcock wrote, but seems to have been retrospectively decided as a starting point, perhaps because of its historical setting within the Thirty Years War. I suspect the references to God, Lucifer, the Grail etc are Christianised versions of Moorcock’s own cosmology, but I’m sure I shall eventually see whether I’m right about that.

The novel is superb, on one level a typical quest narrative but subverting the cliches of such rather nicely, and on another a metaphor for the Enlightenment, a powerful argument for Reason over faith. The world is, indeed, better off with gods and devils leaving it alone. Von Bek is an intriguing protagonist, an amoral cynic who has commuted his share of atrocities yet who gains wisdom through both knowledge and suffering, leading a happy and long life in the end. It may well end in oblivion. But is that not so for all of us?

I’m very interested to see what other directions Moorcock takes. We shall see.

Mad Max 2 (1981)

"You're living off the corpse of the old world."

They say this is the greatest action film ever made. It's hard to disagree.

Sequels are seldom better than originals. It's a truism. Yet here it isn't true, and on many levels. We get a Western style of plot, with Max as a mysterious and bitter stranger who slowly learns to care once more as he saves an oppressed community from bandits. And it's all done very well, with an assured and charismatic performance from Mel Gibson but with even relatively minor characters feeling nuanced and human. It's well-shot. It is, at its basics, simply a very well-made Western, only set in the outback of New South Wales in the post-apocalyptic future.

And it's this latter thing, more than the nuts and bolts, that makes the film so influential- a post-apocalyptic future where civilisation has broken down and only isolated communities exist, fighting over what remains of food, petrol and what is left of advanced technology. This is made cooler by a punk aesthetic, with the baddies wearing mohicans, masks and other cool accoutrements. All this, along with the desert landscape and cannibalised vehicles, makes for a deeply cool aesthetic. And yet... the first Mad Max wasn't like this, was it? Yes, there had been some sort of event and yes, things were a bit Wild West. But there were things such as a police force, property rights, a legal system. Not here. Indeed, the opening scene retcons the first film even as it shows clips from it, narrating a nuclear apocalypse and showing us a far wilder world.

This adds pathos; civilisation has gone, and so much knowledge, culture and tech will die with this generation. It's a rather emotional moment  where Max shows a simple music box to a feral kid who represents a generation which will not remember such things, will not remember so many things. This is a fine, fine film- a superior action film that functions brilliantly in that capacity yet which, with only broad strokes of world building, hints at so much more.

Galaxy of Terror (1981)

"There's no horror here we don't create ourselves."

Every so often I have to watch a trashy-looking genre film with quirky casting and this Roger Corman-produced piece of '80s sci-fi schlock, featuring the splendid Sid Haig and a pre-Nightmare on Elm Street Robert Englund, seems to fit the bill. The experience has been... interesting.

There's an obvious Alien influence in the bickering, working class crew of an alien spaceship but none of the visual grittiness and the plot, once you get past the awful cliched dialogue, is really rather different. There's a fair bit of world building with humanity enthralled by a mysterious "Master" who eventually even becomes relevant to the plot and it eventually becomes clear, after a series of increasingly gory deaths by '80s special effects including a suspiciously rapey-looking incident including a giant worm, that the planet's monsters are simply the crews' fears made manifest. So far, then predictable.

Then we get the ending, where the film really tries hard to be something more than a B movie by attempting to be all metaphysical and philosophical. It's a good try, it really is, but there's no escaping the fact that this is, well, a B movie, and strictly one for those of us who like that sort of thing.

For Your Eyes Only (1981)

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned."

"That's putting it mildly, 007."

This is very odd for a Bond film. There's nothing awful about it but it's oddly small scale and unambiguous, lacking in glamour, wit and oomph while remaining competent. Still, I suppose it's a natural and predictable reaction to the excesses of Moonraker.

The opening titles are perhaps the oddest thing- it's nice to see Tracy hasn't been forgotten as Bond leaves flowers at her grave, but Blofeld is bizarrely back in a very silly sequence that rather undermines the character.

(Oh, and Tracy's gravestone makes it explicit that she died in 1969, the year she died on screen. Stating this nakedly may be increasingly wise as the years go on!)

The ending is awkward, too. After two films that end with Bond and the Bond girl in question being seen shagging on screen and a gloriously terrible sex-related pun, this time we get a ridiculous skit with a parrot and Margaret Thatcher. There's a distinct lack of polish to this script. Even the set pieces are less dramatic than usual, although I liked the extended riff on the Winter Onympics.

Still, the Greek locations are good, as is Julian Glover as the bizarrely small scale baddie. It's off to see Charles Dance in such a tiny part, though. And it's the '89s now- Moonraker was just two years ago, but the cars and the fashions make that seem a long time ago. This is a decade that suits Bond aesthetically so much more.

One nice touch is the refusal yet to recast the part of M after Bernard Lee's demise shortly before filming his scripted scenes. But overall this is a film which makes no huge missteps but is strangely lacking in ambition. It may not be the worst Bond film but it's certainly the most forgettable so far.

Time Bandits (1981)

"Four foot one! That is a long time, isn't it?"

This isn't really all that brilliant a film, in spite of some splendid individual bits of comedy, but it's a fascinating record of Terry Gilliam at this point in his career, with stylistic signs of his later directorial career yet with one foot very much still in Python- the film just feels very Monty Python, not surprisingly as Gilliam co-wrote it with Michael Palin, and both Palin and John Cleese get some splendid cameos: I love Cleese's version of Robin Hood as Prince Charles. And, as with the Python films, the owner of Handmade Films, one George Harrison, is involved, in this case providing a rather good song.

Also brilliant are Ian Holm's height- obsessed Napoleon and Sean Connery's noble and charismatic Agamemnon, complete with the Caledonian tones which were, I'm sure, de rigeur in ancient Mycenae. David Warner is, as ever, a magnificent baddie and the great Ralph Richardson is, literally, God, although he phoned in his performance somewhat.

The whole concept of a portal in young Kevin's bedroom, a portal into other realities that does not abide by the laws of science, is so very reminiscent of British children's fiction, from Alice to Narnia. The dwarves, put in charge of shrubbery by the Supreme Being, remind me a bit of Slartibartfast from the then-recent Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy, while also providing a good employment agency for dwarf actors.

It's not as good as I remembered; individual scenes are good but as a whole it drags a bit. Still, it's a fascinating film to look back on.

The Evil Dead (1981)

"The trees! They're alive!"

This film is magnificently gory, far gorier than I expected for 1981, even given the film's reputation. It isn't just the gore, buttressed at the end by some excellent stop motion animation, that makes this a superb example of its genre, though: it's both a splendid example of using supernatural horror in what is, structurally speaking, a slasher film, and exceedingly well directed to bring out the suspense.

All the tropes are out in force: five teenagers visit a mysterious cabin in the woods which is in the middle of nowhere, in the American South, and accessed by a dangerous bridge. One by one they are picked off and killed. 

But Sam Raimi has fun with this, using suspense to tease us for the first part of the film about whether characters are going to die or not. Then he has real fun with loads of blood and demons straight out of The Exorcist.

The film is fun, yes, but for once it's genuinely creepy. This is sooo far above the likes of Friday the 13th and one of the best of its kind.

Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

"Snakes! Why does it have to be snakes?"

This film still feels fresh thirty years later: not bad for a movie based on the movie serials of the '30s and '40s. What makes it work is that the action never stops, with set piece piled on to exciting set piece and even the exposition scenes being made dramatic. On top of that you have Harrison Ford being, well, himself, Ronald Lacey as the perfect Gestapo baddie and loads of money obviously spent. This is a superb film.

I'm sure many archaeologists would raise an eyebrow at this somewhat glamorous depiction of what they do for a living, of course. Indy is clearly shown to be an academic. Others would raise eyebrows at the spiders, snakes and booby traps galore. The more churlish of us may well raise an eyebrow at the made up mythology if what's supposed to have happened to the Ark, particularly Ethiopians. Personally my own eyebrow is raised a little at the idea of Nazis being so obsessed with such a very Jewish artifact- that must have been awkward for them.

We have all sorts of Indiana Jones tropes here from the start- travelling by map (copyright The Muppets), the action-packed standalone opening sequence and Indy just shoring that bloke who waves a fancy sword at him. It's a brilliant start to s brilliant series. If you haven't seen this, where have you been?

Except, er, Indy doesn't actually accomplish anything, does he? The Ark would have blown up the Nazis whatever happened. Still, at least he gets a nice little Egyptian holiday with some snake-related activities. 

Friday the 13th: Part 2 (1981)

“I told the others. They didn’t believe me. You’re all doomed!”

This film is rubbish. Normally, it wouldn’t be much fun to watch a rubbish film. But, for me, the knowledge that I can administer a good spanking to it in this blog makes it a perversely fun experience. Expect much slating and slagging off. How do I hate thee, Friday the 13^th: Part 2? Let me count the ways.

It has to be said, the first film was surprisingly “meh” for such a well known title. With the sequel being so weak, I’m astounded that the franchise survived, let alone achieved lasting fame. The opening minutes immediately warn the viewer of the ineptness to come. We begin with flashbacks which are just slavishly taken from the original film with no attempt to do anything fresh or creative. The plot itself is non-existent, and the structure of the film makes no sense. Half way through, a large chunk of the characters leave the site of the killings to go out drinking (this being the early ‘80’s, they naturally drive). We follow their conversations in the pub, after which they are never heard of again. This leaves just a handful of characters to be gradually bumped off by Jason. Sadly, the deaths are nowhere near as fun or imaginative as they were in the previous film.

At least Jason himself, a silent and semi mysterious presence, is highly effective, or at least he would be in a better film. It is surprising to see that he is not yet wearing his iconic mask. The franchise can consider itself very lucky that it survived long enough for this to happen.

Of course, we get the usual clichés. Characters who have sex or wander off alone meet exactly the fate that those of us who have seen Scream have come to expect. But the film is too dull for these clichés to be much fun. There is some mileage to be had in the sheer ‘80’sness, especially the computer games, but this is slim pickings. More surprising for the time is the film’s permissive attitude to marijuana.

The film ends suddenly and disappointingly, leaving you with the distinct impression that it never really got going. It is little more than a series of formulaic stabbings. I sincerely hope that the next film in the series is better than this.

Excalibur (1981)

“The one God comes to drive out the many gods. The spirits of wood and stream grow silent.”

There’s just so much to talk about with this film. Just so much juicy subtext. I love it when that happens.

The whole Arthurian legend is a bit of an odd one, isn’t it? Everybody tends to think of it as the quintessentially English body of myths, yet it isn’t really English at all. The earliest texts tend to indicate that Arthur, if he existed at all, was a native Briton who fought the invading Anglo-Saxons whose culture would become English culture. And once those rather unpleasant Norman chaps invade England then we get Normans like Geoffrey of Monmouth (part-Welsh, part-Norman) using the Arthurian legends as a sort of propaganda vehicle, to remind the English that they’re invaders too. Personally, I’m just Cornish enough to be on the fence when it comes to all that stuff.

But come the 12^th century we get the Troubadours, Chrétien de Troyes and all that stuff, including a rather large amount of new stuff (the Grail, Lancelot, etc) and removing the rather awkward Celt vs. Saxon ethnic conflict, to the point that the stories which form this film belong more to French literature than to English or Welsh.

This film is loosely based on the Morte d’Arthur, a selection of certain Arthurian myths by Sir Thomas Mallory in the 1470’s. How loosely I can’t say; I’ve not read the book since uni and that was a good while ago. But it’s interesting that the armour and general look of the thing seems to reflect the time of the book rather than the actual 5^th or 6^th century setting of the original legends. Then again, the historical basis of Arthurian myth is so vague that there’s no point in attempting anything like historical accuracy. It’s also interesting to note that Mallory was a highly dodgy sort and a convicted rapist. It’s interesting to bear this in mind when we consider how the film deals with sex, which we’ll come to in a bit.  

This movie is so postmodern and metatextual that I had a massive grin on my face through most of it. The characters aren’t one-dimensional by any means (the whole Guinevere / Lancelot adultery subplot proves that) but they’re very much characters from myth, larger-than-life people who belong in epics, and necessarily so. Otherwise it wouldn’t be possible to have such a fast pace and cram so much in. There’s a bit of fun to be had within this, though. Uther, for example, is as thick as two planks in exactly the way that many characters from myths would be if fleshed out. He makes a great contrast with Merlin, who is the only character with a modern sensibility and clearly an audience identification figure, right up to the point that he's conspiring with the audience in seeing these mediseval  personalities as a little absurd. Nicol Williamson portrays his wit, cynicism and delicious irony perfectly. He’s a slippery, postmodern individual who seems completely out of place in this genre and this, of course, makes him perfect as a wizard.

The nature of his “magic” is interesting, too, quite aside from the fact that he’s shown to be a druid-like figure, one of the last of an older, pagan age. All this talk of “The Dragon” seems very similar to the Force, and that strange dream sequence with Arthur and Merlin in the forest glade seems suspiciously like a slight mickey take of the similar scene with Luke and Yoda in The Empire Strikes Back. In fact, the whole take on mythology here seems to owe quite a lot to Star Wars, although always with a slight hint of the tongue-in-cheek.

Everything looks great, with lots of fog, stone circles, Cornish landscapes, and an interesting mix between Mediaeval grottiness and a more romantic take, with the knights all having very shiny armour indeed until it symbolically all seems to dull after the funny business starts between Lancelot and Guinevere. There are some nice scene juxtapositions, too. Uther rapes Ygraine at the exact moment that her husband dies (by being impaled by a massive phallic symbol!), and we constantly switch between scenes. Both events are extremely violent, and the Duke dies at the exact moment that Uther orgasms, and Arthur is conceived.

Different Arthurian tales almost trip over each other in this bizarre portmanteau of a film, so fast is the pace, but things take a turn for the dark once Lancelot and Guinevere get naked and Merlin is trapped by Morgana (Helen Mirren looks disturbingly young). Without Merlin, things start getting very, very surreal, and the Holy Grail stuff is extraordinarily weird. Percival’s being asked questions about the grail, and his temptation in the castle, have got to be a deliberate nod to the then-recent Monty Python and the Holy Grail, while the sight of a knight surrounded by peasants with plague can only be a nod to The Seventh Seal. This film may play it straight on the surface, but you don’t have to probe deep to find lots of metatextual fun.

Of course, the main point of all the subtext at this point is to demonstrate that Mordred is a right little shit.

Oh, and we were talking about sex earlier. Well, it’s rather interesting to look at the character of Morgana from a feminist perspective. We first encounter her as a little girl, watching her own mother being raped. Merlin is clearly an accomplice to the rape- in fact, arranging it seems to be the biggest and most draining act of magic he’s ever performed! Oh, and Uther (with Merlin’s help) has arranged a civil war in which loads of people die purely so that this can happen. All in all, it’s rather difficult not to see Morgana’s character as the revenge of the feminine against all this male violence. She entraps Merlin by asserting her feminine sexuality. She shuns the male world of fighting and turns to magic. She symbolically deceives Arthur and has sex with him to produce Mordred a rather symbolic act of revenge of Arthur who, as king, is the ultimate symbol of patriarchy. Oh, and if magic is feminine, what does this say about Merlin? He certainly seems to show no interest in women! I’d better stop there. I do have a y chromosome, after all. I wonder how much of this, if any, is intended as a commentary on Mallory’s own history as a rapist?

Oh, and all this stuff with the lady of the lake is fascinating. It seems to hark back to old Iron Age habits of leaving bits of treasure in lakes and rivers as offerings to the gods, something which possibly continues in Britain today with coins and fountains. Is this “lady” a goddess, part of Merlin’s world, and soon to vanish, just as Arthur vanishes, across the sea to the west just like the end of Lord of the Rings?

The Nightmare Man: Parts Three and Four

Part Three

“I blame television. Some people see The Sound of Music once too often, and something snaps.”

It’s a bit odd watching episodes two at a time and reviewing them two at a time, especially when it comes to reviewing Part Three while trying to pretend you haven’t also just watched Part Four. So I find myself being quite unable to write up the parts of my notes theorising about the Colonel and secret military cover-ups of aliens. It’s a nice part of the developing plot, though. We’re also constantly reminded of a mysterious soldier with a parachute.

And the plot’s coming on nicely. Things have taken on a regular pattern by now: each episode is a new day; the police are nice, normal people; Tom gets the best lines; the characters are getting to like and trust one another more and more. It’s nice that we have none of that tiresome nonsense where characters suspect each other of nefarious deeds for no good reason. But the undercurrent of horror starts to move into the foreground, and we get actual glimpses of the creature. Fiona’s impressive multimedia set-up lays the groundwork most effectively for the inevitable deaths of the coastguards. After all, for characters like this, living in an isolated place that might as well be a lighthouse, to get killed is pretty much a trope in itself. It raises the stakes, though…

Part Four

“A policeman’s lot is not a happy one.”

So, it wasn’t an alien, it was a Russian cyborg thingy. Well, of course. And the colonel and his mates, who’ve put the island under martial law, are also all Russians. I wasn’t expecting that. The Cold War: how very quaint.

I love the characters’ reactions, though. Inskip suspects something’s up with the colonel, and has his suspicions confirmed. Tom is as witty as ever. Fiona is deeply upset that all this horror has come to her beloved island. And Mike, with his military background, is the one who finally draws out the truth, and, I suppose, gets to be the hero.

I don’t know the original novel at all, but the twist fell a little flat to me. The plot, and especially the warmly drawn characters, are beautifully handled by Holmes, but this is a fairly standard thriller plot until the final twenty minutes, and the big revelation is not sufficiently related to anything we’ve seen earlier to have any real resonance or power.

Still, it’s possible that this fault may lie in the source material. Certainly, Holmes handles the nuts and bolts of the plot, and the characterisation, with consummate ease. But it’s a shame that this should be his only “original” drama. RTD once compared him to Dennis Potter; this script is good, but doesn’t back that claim up.

Incidentally, it's an instructive experience watching a BBC drama from 1981 just after a Joss Whedon series from 2001. Everything seems so much... slower. And I'm sure  it probably means I've failed to properly appreciate Camfield's direction here.

The Nightmare Man: Parts One and Two

Part One

“There’s been a murder.”

I’ve never seen this before but, as a rather full-on Doctor Who fan of twenty-four years standing, I can’t resist a thriller, from 1981, scripted by Robert Holmes and directed by Douglas Camfield. These two are pretty much the dream team.

Camfield directed Terror of the Zygons, of course, and it’s not just the Scottish setting that echoes this. The shots from the POV of the killer, or creature, or whatever it is, deeply echo the similar shots of the Skarasen. But here they are very effective, with their whole blood-red look contrasting with the realism we see elsewhere.

Otherwise, we spend the thirty minutes until the murder of Symonds exploring the frenzied murder of a Mars Anderson, and being rather effectively introduced to our cast of characters. It’s a rather unstarry cast; Celia Imrie and Maurice Roeves are the only two I’ve ever heard of. But then, this being a thriller, that’s probably a good idea. I can’t rely on relative levels of fame to predict who’s going to get killed.

I assume this was filmed on location on a proper island up in the Highlands; it certainly looks like it. And this closed little community, where Inspector Inskip has just four police officers at his disposal, feels simultaneously large and claustrophobic in the fog. The characters are interesting, and it’s interesting to speculate what will happen to them. Mike proposes to Fiona, so I assume at least one of them (him?) is not going to survive. The policemen are all likeable but realistic and human, as they should be from the pen of an ex-copper. It’s a nice touch to see Tom swearing in Gaelic! Roeves is excellent as Inskip- reassuringly normal and believable for a TV cop.

Part Two

“No creature on this Earth has a bite like that.”

This episode does something very refreshing; it slowly and plausibly gets our main characters to accept that they’re dealing with an alien without resorting to the tired and frustrating spectacle of characters refusing to believe anything which seems far fetched. With the cliffhanger, the final piece slots into place as even Inskip accepts that “Nothing human did that.”

We’re given various pieces of the puzzle one by one; the creature’s teeth, the fact that it seems to be radioactive, and finally what appears to be its spacecraft. But there’s one other mystery here: Colonel Howard. At first I assumed he was just a red herring- he clearly isn’t the killer- but could he be more than he seems? Do the military have some connection with what’s going on? Is the military parachute a clue? Or is he a double red herring?

I really like Inskip; he may be a newcomer and a Glaswegian, but he’s part of this community and he cares for it (“Ah, Jamie’s a good loony, Tom. He’s not a killer.”). He’s clever, too; he sees that the killer’s moving in a straight line and follows it. We’ve also established that Mike, Fiona and Dr. Goudry are all decent sorts. They can’t all survive…

K-9 and Company: A Girl's Best Friend

“Oh Doctor, you didn’t forget!”

Wow. Surely that’s the greatest theme tune / title sequence combo in all of recorded history? Classy, sophisticated, and in no way tacky or dated. Good to see that Sarah (great to see her again!) is a fellow Grauniad reader, although sadly she prefers the white stuff to a nice glass of red.

We have a new writer, Terence Dudley, and as per usual for the marathon I’ll try my best to pretend I’ve never encountered anything of his, before! I haven’t seen K9 and Company before, though, and it’s the last story in the whole marathon to be a first viewing. I have now seen everything. Exciting, innit?

We get a string of clichés to begin with; a coven of stock pagan human-sacrificing bad guys, we know the drill. Unfortunately anyone who’s seen The Wicker Man is going to suspect the whole village of being in on it, so there’s little in the way of surprising plot twists all the way through. So we get such vaguely familiar tropes as a Herne the Hunter figure, a goat, and worship of both Hecate and a Celtic goddess whose name I don’t recall- surely’ different pantheons? And I had to raise an eyebrow at the concept of an entire village practising the “old religion” in 1981…

We finally get to meet Sarah’s Aunt Lavinia. Unfortunately, though, we also get a lot of long, stagy, awkwardly acted drawing room scenes where all the characters seem to be based on Margot and Jeremy from The Good Life.

Still, Sarah’s fab as always, but the story relies rather heavily on her general fabness to carry everything else. This is pure telefantasy by numbers, not very encouraging for what’s supposed to be a pilot.

Oh, and K-9’s in this, isn’t he? Mark 3, so presumably constructed alongside Mark 2 as that seems the only opportunity for it to have happened. We get an interesting exchange between Brendan (surprisingly likeable; a sort of non-annoying Adric) concerning the Doctor: “Who is the Doctor?” “Affirmative.” It’s all gone a bit War Machines.

Overall it’s a bit of a wasted opportunity. A plot which consists of a few well-known tropes working their way through in the predictable fashion, and establishing very little that would sustain a series, what with its very small regular cast and total lack of a direction to go in. 2/5.