Pistol- Track 6: Who Killed Bambi?"

 "We'll always have Huddersfield..."

It's perfect, after all the distressing events of the episode, to finish with the Pistols' benefit gig, on Christmas Day 1977, for the children of desperate striking firefighters. Despite all else that happens, it's a moment of strange innocence, with even Sid being kind to children and John showing his moral side, much like his refusal to have anything to do with that *** Ronnie Biggs.

All else is tragedy. Sid and Nancy, two damaged and co-dependent kids who were just kids, really, meet their horribly tragic demises. Malcolm shows himself to be an inhuman ***, both ij the opening scene and in how his cynical manipularion leads to such tragedy. Punk has no need for svengalis: it's about how ANYONE, with just three chords, can write good songs, rule the world and mean something far more significant than all that Situationist fatuosity.

It's right, and meaningful, that Sid's death should be counterbalanced by Chrissie's deserved success. It's also nice to have that well-written final conversation between Steve- the protagonist here- and John, about the cynicism of Malcolm and how John need not bear that burden of all that stupid Catholic guilt about Sid.

Malcolm is the true villain here.Should Hell somehow exist, let him rot in it. Sid and Nancy (Rockets Redglare killed her) were such children. They're all so bloody young. Heroin and cutting yourself is not rock 'n' roll.

The Pistols gave us such incredible music, musi that I love. But at what price? And how many died for it? Is art worth the suffering?

That is, I suppose, the perennial question. We are, I hope, well past the age of glamourising death and mental illness in the name of rock 'n' roll. But we can't deny its worth as art. Still, is it worth it?

Danny Boyle, you have created a serious work of art from a subject matter that needed it. Thank you.

Pistol- Track 5: Nancy and Sid

 "This isn't love. This is appetite. They'll eat him."

And suddenly it all steps upma gear, intothe oenultimate act of what is ultimately a tragedy. Both Sid and Nancy- who we meet for the first time, played truly superbly by Emma Appleton- are, in a way, naive, innocent and so, so young. We get hints of how Nancy has never known love or kindness, of her schizophrenia. We learn that Sid was given some heroin as a birthday present by his mother at fourteen. Wow. Neither of them stand any chance whatsoever. They're co-dependent, self-destructive and doomed to die stupidly young. None of this is ***ing romantic, and rightly isn't played as such. 

Meanwhile, the drama of the Sex Pistols continues, with all Danny Boyle's usual touches of '70s context. The '77 Jubilee seems much scarier than the one last gone, far more conformist. Richard Branson looks so bloody young. And at the centre of it all is everyman Steve, whose stepdad is still a child molesting ***, and who has come from nothing to writing a Number One single.

Then there's Chrissie- a nice person, a grown-up, who bonds with Nancy despite herself. Who realises she needs to develop her talent. Yet Steve has faith in her. The understated love between the two of them is, perhaps, more real than that of Nancy and Sid, the poor kids. And the media are total ***s throughout, as they were in real life.

This is more than good. It's tastefully provocative, and threads the needle very well. It tells the truth; that these were two young victims who fell through the cracks of a society without an adequate safety net. God help their equivalents today.

Pistol- Track 4: Pretty Vaaay****

 "What a ***ing rotter!"

This is, I suppose, the pivotal episode. It has all the seminal early TV appearances, starting with Tont Wilson and incorporating a full recording of the Bill Grundy car crash- and, in the shockingly violent reactions of violent thugs towards John and others just for swearing, we see hoew in many ways- if not in terms of the Welfare State- society has, thankfully, improved since the '70s.

It's wonderful to see things through the eyes of two excited Huddersfield teenage girls, who make their way to London to see the Pistols but end up exploited- much, it becomes increasingly clear, as are the band, by Malcolm, who creams away the profits and gets cold feet after the Grundy interview. The scene where he and Vivienne row- she, at this point, long before the damehood, is a true revolutionary artist who has not sold out, whereas the closest Malcolm comes to actual revolution is poking at an asbestos-ridden roof, despite being warned not to, that would kill him thirty-four years later. Yes, really.

On the other hand, it's Vivienne (ably abetted by a rather awesome Jordan) who exploits "the Huddersfields", so...

We also see the close friendship between John and Sid, the increasingly comfortable relationship (of casual sex and serious guitar tuition) betweewn Steve and Chrissie, and the increasing alienation of Glen, pushed out of the band, essentially because of Steve's class-related inferiority complex.

Things are speeding up. This is bloody brilliant. I'm loving it.

Pistol- Track 3: Bodies

 "We're not into music. We're into chaos."

We should perhaps remember, three episodes in, that this is based on Steve Jones' autobiography, that it is, inevitably, focused on Steve, with him as the star. John Lydon doesn't like it, quite famously. And, while we may not like him these days because of his apparent support for Trumpian fascism, we should remember that he's always been fond of saying shocking stuff for the sake of it, what he says isn't necessarily what he means, and he may not be mentally all that well at the moment. His wife is very ill and he cares for her. So let's not make assumptions.

Anson Boon, incidentally, is superb as John. He brings out the mannerisms and the menace, yes. But threre's also the kind and, well, gentlemanly approach to Pauline. Just as revealing, too, is the saga of Chrissie Hynde's desperate attempts to get married purely for a visa. She's more upset than she thinks, for a "fake marriage"; when Steve spurns her, she likes him more than she admits. Yet John cheerily agrees to marry her for a laugh, only to back out when an upset Nick Kent arrives, because feelings are not a joke. Beneath everything, he has a heart. He's vulnerable.

And so is Steve himself. He's very sensitive about his illiteracy, and nice deep down, despite yielding to temptation with Pauline. But Pauline- the inspiration behind Bodies, not the anti-abortion song that right-wing morons think it is- is the character we feel most sorry for. Raped, institutionalied, carrying an aborted foetus in a bag to gigs, loving it when Johnny writes a song about her... that's real life.

The politics of punk is, of course, an interesting subject. Malcolm has his trite situationism.Vivienne has her aimless anti-authority, taboo-busting passion, hating bigotry but not in favour of anything. Everyone hates hippies. It's not explicitly right-wing but, well, I think it has its place in the history of Thatcherism. Then again, so do hippies. Their individualism is not necessarily a left-wing thing.

Nevertheless, this a wonderfully textured bit of telly. Reginald Bosanquet in Sex, Maisie Williams as Jordan, the Bromley Contingent in full force.. I absolutely love this.

Pistol- Track 1: Cloak of Invisibility

 "The phantom of the Odeon strikes again!"

Yes, I know. I'm juggling so many shows so why start a new one? Well, at least I've nearly finished Stranger Things, right?

Wow. This is much more textured, interesting telly than I expected from a biopic of merry Sex Pistols guitarist Steve Jones.

We begin, as is traditional in all Pistols-related telly, with a '70s montage framed arounda live Bowie performance of "Moonage Daydream" and Steve nicking stuff, but including such things as unmentionable pop, Barbara Windsor royalist wankery of a rather less ironic and metatextual natutre than the recent frolics, bad clothes, bad decor.

And we get to know Steve, a Sex Pistol who isn't John or Sid- must get round to blogging Sid and Nancy at some point- but is more interesting than either of them. A likeable rogue, who nicks stuff and shags around but is charming and decent underneat it all. Poor, vulnerable, not from a loving home like Paul Cook, whose parents let him play drums in their bedroom  but chucked out of his home by a sexually abusive stepfather.

Yet he finds a surrogate dad in Malcolm McLaren (played, disturbinhly.by Thomas Brodie-Sangster, who I remember well as a child actor in Doctor Who), and already we understand their bond. We also get to know and like Chrissie Hynde, to laugh at Nick Kent, to wallow in a very real-seeming '70s, an era when culture was real and contemporary, and previous decades were not available at a click of the mouse, and borstals were bloody scary..

This is unexpectedly good telly. And Johnny Rotten is still to come...

Trainspotting (1996)

"I haven't felt that good since Archie Gemmill scored against Holland in 1978."

This is one of my favourite films of all times, and it’s quite inexcusable that I’ve waited until I’m 550-odd films in to blog it. It’s superb; creTively directed, delightfully non-linear in its narration in a very post-Pulp Fiction way, perfectly cast, hilarious, devastating, and based on Irvine Welsh’s truly awesome novel.

Watching it again for the umpteenth fine, although for the first time in at least fifteen years, is how the charming, intelligent, outwardly sympathetic Mark Renton is actually a complete bastard. Yes, he’s complicit in the neglect and death of baby Dawn after he introduces the baby’s mother to heroin, but at least he’s not a parent. Yes, it’s unfair that Spud goes to prison and not his middle class self. Yes, he makes a lot of money in a big heroin deal, although as he doesn’t betray Spud I don’t think he needs feel any guilt about double crossing Sick Boy or Bregbie. No; they deserved all they got. But Tommy? He loses his girlfriend because Renton tricks him into letting him have a video having sex with Lizzie, causing Lizzie to leave him. Then the clean-living Tommy, devastated, asks Renton for heroin, which he gets. All this directly leads to AIDS and his horrible death, which is entirely Renton’s fault. But he’s negative.

Renton may have the privileges that come with being bareTir, but he’s as much of a bastard as anyone in the film. It’s just that he gets to cover it up with his middle class ways. And I bet none of his mates would have had the option of moving to London and making loads of money in the property business.

Sick Boy, despite of his amusing obsession with Sean Connery and his despair at Dawn’s death, is a grasping, cynical, amoral bastard. Begbie is a a monster of the type that far too many blokes have in their social circles. But Renton is as bad as any of them, and I think that’s what Welsh and Danny Boyle I tend us to conclude.

Still one of the greatest film ever made. I love the wit, I love the style, I love the worst toilet in Scotland, I love the nostalgic glimpse of a branch of John Menzies. And the soundtrack is awesome.

Steve Jobs (2015)

"I play the orchestra."

Five years after Aaron Sorkin scripted a biopic of Mark Zuckerberg he does the same for the late Steve Jobs, another scion of the Silicon Valley aristocracy, this time helmed by Danny Boyle, whose London Olympics opening ceremony has certainly not harmed his career. The result is gripping, full of quick-fire dialogue (that'll be Sorkin, then) and plenty of zingers and little nostalgic touches. Throughout it all is a portrait of a confident- nay, arrogant, bordering on unlikeable visionary who, while not an engineer or a programmer, is the conductor who cannot play an instrument but plays the orchestra superbly.

The film is structured around the preparation to three distinct big speeches in 1984, 1988 and 1988, all big product launches. It's a brave yet ultimately successful way of limiting the palette in order to produce a cohesive narrative. Michael Fassbender is spellbinding and the excellent Kate Winslet is barely recognisable; a leading Hollywood actress actually playing a role that isn't sexualised.

The emotional centre of the film is Jobs' relationship with his daughter Lisa, starting with his denial of paternity but ending with his actually delaying his speech- a big thing- for her sake. We also see his abrasive relationship with his underlings, but he inspires loyalty in spite of everything. In the end, his vision triumphs, although it's interesting that the film ends in 1997, before Jobs' biggest wave of successes.

I like the nod to the fact that you can't get inside any Apple device without special tools, the grainy picture, the nod to the iPad's origins in Jobs noticing the clinginess of Lisa's Walkman, but at its heart this is a masterful character study. It is an artfully constructed and fascinating little film.