The New Mutants (2020)

 "I masturbated twice..."

We're not supposed to like this film, are we? It was the last Marvel film made by Fox but released after Disney bought Fox, hence monkeyed around a lot by exacys, cut to ribbons, unloved, released without fanfare, left to sink at an unprepared box office, in peak Covid.

Well, I really liked it. I'm not saying it's the greatest fuilm of all time- it's a little superhero horror coming-of-age film, a combination that works rather well- but it's a nice little film, much as I may have been swayed by the fact I went in with low expectations.

The horror works well. The Smiling Men are effective and it's directed well for scares in a way horror films generally aren't. The plot is clever, substituting a sinister corporate doctor for Professor X and making Dani' powers the A threat. Yet it hinges on yje five man characters- Dani (Mirage); Rahne (Wolfsbane); Illyana (Magik, of whose brother we hear nowt); Sam (Cannonball) and Roberto (Sunspot), all of whom came to the institution tragically via killing people with their powers, and are being secretly trained to kill. It's a nice bit of misdirection that they are not, in fact, in Xavier's school and the institution's supposed connection with the X-Men is a lie.

Yes, there's a focus on Dani, and up to a point Rahne and Illyana. But all five of them get to shine, This is a well-written, directed and acted piece of cinema, with visual hints at Bill Sienciewicz to boot. I love it. You probably haven't seen it. Please do.

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 2: Rotten

 "Come see us play. We're awful."

This is the episode where it all comes together. Steve learns guitar- in four days, with loads of speed- and we meet Johnny Rotten, played superbly by Anson Boon in a performance which perfectly encapsulates both Rotten's unique mannerisms and the deep, vulnerable unhappiness beneath. We also get more superlative performances from Thomas Brodie-Sangster as a deliciously amoral and pretentious Malcolm McLaren, the pseud who somehow ends up as the alpha male. 

Yet there is also Chrissie Hynde, struggling with the incredible levels of sexism in the music industry. And there's a welcome focus on Jordan, who has sadly died recently, and her awesome train journey to work shocking busybodies with her looks and showing us how stultifyingly conformist the British '70s were, even if the Welfare State also made it in many ways better than today. There are always swings and roundabouts.

We are efficiently introduced to Sid Vicious- seemingly a nice young man at this point- and the tensions with Glen Matlock are already apparent. The whole thing, once more, is gloriously shot with lots of creative references to '70s pop culture, and the Pistols' legendary first gig in November 1975 is truly awesome.

This shows us in no uncertain terms how extraordinary these events were- how four such lads could end up so famous, and how a povery- and abuse-stricken yet decent everyman like Steve Jones could experience such a trajectory. This is excellent stuff.

Game of Thrones: Season 1, Episode 2 ("The Kingsroad")

"A mind needs books like a sword needs a whetstone."

I blogged the first episode of Game of Thrones on 18th September 2015 so... yeah. There won't be quite as long before episode three. Promise.

I'm still getting a handle on the setting; this is a fantasy world with only light fantasy elements- so far we've seen dragon eggs but dragons appear to be semi-mythical, and dire wolves seem not to be overtly supernatural. It's a gritty, realistic mediaeval world which is obviously going to focus on the power games surrounding the eponymous throne, and I've heard that this is based on both the Wars of the Roses and the Anarchy of the twelfth century. But Robert Baratheon is certainly no Henry VI; I'm not sure how strong a king he is but he appears laddish yet weighed down by kingship. I suspect he's not all that long for this world, given the apparent premise of the series.

Daenerys is interesting in the sense that she's getting a lot of screen time and her situation- marital rape in the context of semi-forced marriage- is horrific and surely would not be depicted so prominently if she were not eventually to end up powerful and fortunate in spite of it. Her brother claims Robert's throne. Hmm.

Meanwhile, Robert's only son Joffrey is a right little sod, as his behaviour towards Arya and her poor friend illustrates. Sansa is happy enough to marry him, but then she'll be queen. She's so motivated towards this that she's ready to lie under oath about her sister. But I suppose that being queen- a glorified womb- is the best a woman can hope for in this society. Certainly Arya's tomboyish ways are a fascinating way to explore the theme of what we can't really call feminism.

And then there's Tyrion. He's still a sot and a shagger, but there's a more intellectual side, too; he may be a semi-outcast just because he's a dwarf but, crude and direct though he is, he isn't shallow. And his relationship with the literal bastard Jon Snow (not yet a Channel 4 newsreader) is interesting. Jon, a very naive bastard, is off to devote his entire life to guarding the northern walls from whatever lies beyond, which none of his legitimately born relatives would presumably stoop to. Ned is proud but, when he says That "When we next meet, I'll tell you about your mother" I'm left suspecting that, one way or another, they won't ever meet again. Let's see if I'm right.

Meanwhile Catelyn Stark is keeping watch over the thankfully not-dead Bran but, after being attacked, she's off to tell her husband about her suspicions regarding the Lannisters. And, while she's away, Bran wakes- and he knows too much. Why do I get the feeling that the immediate future of the Stark family is not set to be a happy one?

Absolutely superb telly, this.

Doctor Who: Hell Bent

I"I insist upon my past!"

This is a brilliant season finale and a brilliant proper farewell to Clara, yes. That would be enough to make it brilliant. But there's more. Much, much more. Regular readers of this blog will be aware that I much prefer the littler, more character based stories to the big overblown epics: give me The Rescue over The Dalek Invasion of Earth any day. And Moffat clearly agrees. So much so that he takes the big, epic Gallifrey story we've expected for so long, only to swat it away in favour of a nice little intimate character piece.

And it's blatant. Yes, we have Gallifrey, the Citadel, the Chancellery Guards and the Matrix. We even get Donald Sumptrr, no less, as Rassilon. Except... the first twenty minutes of the story consists of the Doctor emphatically rejecting the epic power of the Time Lords in both the narrative and the wider mythology of Doctor Who: his relationship with his companion is far more important than all this fanwank.

Hence the Doctor assumes charge in Gallifrey through doing did all, by his Time War reputation alone. Hence the fact that Rassilon, that iconic figure of Time Lord mythology, played by Donald Sumpter in a real casting coup... is casually expelled from the narrative at a very early point on the episode. This episode is about Clara's death, the Doctor's hubris at refusing to accept it (very The Waters of Mars), and how this is making shades of the old War Doctor seep through. And it's Clara who saves the day. "Run, you clever boy, and be a Doctor".

Not that there isn't some glorious fanwankery, of course. Most brilliant is our first male-to-female regeneration, which has a nice transsexual subtext. Also, Ohica and the Sisterhood of Karn are back for absolutely no reason other than that they're cool, which is absolutely right. It's 2015, and Doctor Who still shows the unmistakable influence of Terrance Dicks, as it should.

The real emotional and dramatic centre of the episode is its second half, from the point at which Clara is extracted to the Matrix from a point just before her death. She's trapped between moments, with no heartbeat, and will eventually have to be returned to her timeline, and death. From this point, Gallifrey and all its flummery are but a MacGuffin in the service of Clara's relationship with her mortality and the Doctor's hubris in bending the laws of time in forever postponing her return to her death.

Clara is horrified to hear that the Doctor spent 4.5 billion years in the confession dial. For her. She, unlike him, appreciates that she has to die. It's in the nature of things, and she has had an amazing life.

The ending is inspired. The Doctor and Clara run away in a TARDIS just like throne he stole all those years ago, with an uber-retro interior exactly as designed by Peter Brachaki, right down to that thingy off the ceiling that was quietly dropped after An Unearthly Child. The Doctor has no solution to Clara's mortality other than procrastination- but isn't that the case for all of us? None of us know how much time we have, so we need to make the most of what time we have.

The Doctor doesn't understand: he just wants her to live. He intends to wipe her memories of him so she will have a better chance of survival, but that misses the point: our memories are our life. And it is better to die young with strove of amazing memories than to die old after a life unlived. 

And this is the bit where we find out what the framing device with the diner was all about. The climax happens at the very end of history, where the Doctor and Clara meet, inevitably, Ashildr. It is she who points out that this is the prophecy referred to as the Hybrid. Pleasingly, it's left open whether or not the Doctor is actually half-human (shudder!) or whether the "Hybrid" refers to both the Doctor and Clara. 

We end with the Doctor in a retooled TARDIS, with a new Sonic Screwdriver, adventuring again. Meanwhile, Clara and Ashildr have their own retro Type 49, its exterior stuck as an American diner...

Oh, and it's just occurred to me: the diner in The Impossible Astronaut was Clara's TARDIS, parked a few feet away...

I can't even tell you how brilliant a piece of telly this is. I'm utterly floored by it.

Doctor Who: Face the Raven

"I guarantee the safety of Clara Oswald."

At last Doctor Who does a story in that strange genre of otherworldly streets in our world, of China Mieville and Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere. It's brilliantly atmospheric and really fits into Who although (yes, I'm coming to the elephant in the room, just wait)..) in an episode like this it isn't developed much and is pretty much reduced to some very interesting background colour.

It's also nice, after Flatline, to see a developed, maturer version of Rigsy. I like the character and wouldn't mind seeing him again. Similarly, Ashildr's reappearance is very welcome and she gets more good character development. I love the idea that, being immortal but with a finite memory, she remembers Clara only from reading her own diaries.

But... yeah. Let's spend the rest of this blog post talking about Clara's death, shall we? Because that's where the episode stands or falls. It's certainly a much-telegraphed death throughout the whole season, but this episode in particular goes out of it's way to show Clara having fun during her travels with the Doctor as never before. And this is her downfall, her carefree adventurer's spirit that leads her to do something brave, reckless and foolishly heroic. Arguably, she dies from being Doctorish. It's his influence that kills her. Except that the Doctor is privileged by the narrative to get away with outrageously foolish acts of heroism, whereas Clara, however awesome, is just... human. And it's that heroic hubris that kills her. She behaves like a Time Lady, and a human just can't keep doing that and live.

It's certainly a visually effective companion death, worthy to sit alongside Katarina, Sara Kingdom and that Alzarian boy. And, as an episode, it's a superb way of telling a companion death. Except... I'm not sure it's a sufficiently big and important death, season arc-wise, to honour such a huge and awesome companion like Clara, once a mere "Impossible Girl" plot point under Matt Smith but who blossomed into awesomeness under Peter Capaldi. What we have here is a very good episode by promising newcomer Sarah Dollard on its own terms which doesn't quite succeed at the huge wider job it had to do.

Oh, and the Doctor has been captured, by persons unknown. Let's not assume they're necessarily Time Lords. I mean, they obviously are but let's not...

Doctor Who: The Woman Who Lived

"This is banter! I'm against banter. I'm on record on the subject of banter."

Hmm. I have to admit that wasn't bad. Quite good, in fact. A well-written character piece from the excellent Catherine Tregenna, in fact, one of Torchwood's finest writers. So why do I get a slight feeling of "meh"? I suspect because it's about immortality and loneliness, which to us diehard fans are such well-mined seams. It's possible that this episode may appeal to fans less than to the general public, being written by a non-fan. That would be no bad thing in the long run. But I can't shake my slight feeling of "meh". Yes, Ashildr is ageless, and thus a parallel to the Doctor. I get it. And?

Still, the plot works. It's entertaining. Maisie Williams is very good, and Peter Capaldi is amazing, at the top of his form, doing brilliant line deliveries with some quite banal, expository dialogue. But the episode didn't really engage me until the last third.

So, what to say? Well, it's a Clara-lite episode, but full of foreboding about her upcoming death. I'm unspoiled, I hasten to add, but the hints have been blatant. The Doctor refuses to take Asildr as a companion because they both need the "mayflies", who help the likes of them to see the beauty and preciousness of life. So Clara is a mayfly. Oh dear.

Oh, and on top of that Ashildr says if Clara that "She'll die on you, you know. She'll blow away like smoke." And Clara, in her little cameo, finishes up by saying "I'm not going anywhere." She's toast. 

What else? I liked the powerful pathos of the simple scene where the Doctor reads Ashildr's journals. She's had to bury her own children. She's had ample time to spend on mastering any skill she cares to pursue. And she can't possibly keep all her memories in a normal-sized mind. These are nice details. 

I liked the nod to The Visitation. And that reminds me: it looked as though the sonic shades weren't permanently destroyed after all. They're here to stay. And so is Ashildr, a nice touch. We shall certainly be seeing her again, and I wouldn't be surprised if it were this season. She's resolved to help those whom the Doctor leaves behind: this sounds like foreshadowing of something particular that has already been planned.

Also, nice to see Captain Jack get a mention. And nice to have a hint that Ashildr is likely one day to attract the attention of Torchwood.

Doctor Who: The Girl Who Died

"I'm not in the mood for Vikings!"

I already liked this episode a lot when it still seemed to be a fairly low-key tale about a small CGI Viking village against metal aliens with a bit of Doctorish cleverness thrown in. The small stories are often much better than the big epics: give me The Rescue over The Dalek Invasion of Earth any day.

But then there's the twist: the Doctor has saved the day, but poor Ashildr has been killed. She would have died anyway, the whole village would. But the Doctor is consumed with guilt and a sickness of losing too many people, the curse of near-immortality. So he breaks the rules of time travel, just as he did last episode. And Ashildr is immortal which, as The Five Doctors taught us, is a curse. The Doctor instantly regrets what he has done to her; he knows what it's like to bury your loved ones again and again. Has he gone and made a big, terrible mistake?

And so we have an interesting twist on the two-parter: this episode is self-contained, but next week we will be meeting Ashildr again, a thousand years older.

It's a masterfully constructed script, with Jamie Mathieson again excelling; this is possibly the best of the season so far. Maisie Williams (I don't know her; as yet I've only seen one episode of Game of Thrones) is also superb. I can't wait until next week.

So what else? Well, the Doctor's sonic shades are unceremoniously smashed before the pre-titles sequence has even ended. Is this permanent? Clara is again magnificent, almost persuading the baddies to aid off and giving the Doctor a much-needed pep talk. And we actually get a "reversing the polarity of the neutron flow" as Jon Pertwee, er, didn't particularly used to say.

Most interestingly, though, we get an explanation as to why the Doctor now looks like Caecilius from The Fires of Pompeii, and it's actually a satisfying one: the Doctor's subconscious wanted to remind him that, fixed points on time or not, you can still go back and save one person. Nothing bad will happen. Right?

Next week will be interesting. It's starting to be clear what Steven Moffat meant when he said that this season will see a little playing around with what a two-parter is supposed to be.