Sapphire & Steel: Assignment Two- The Railway Station, Part 2

 "The girls who gave us flowers..."

Things are getting more and more intriguing: we get more tantalising hints of the soldier, resenting the day he went to war in August 1914; we get some effective (yet cheap!) hints of the horrors of the Western Front; and for a while Sapphire, Steel and indeed Tully briefly meet our enigmatic, sullen young Tommy.

Our two leads, despite Steel's continued splendid rudeness, connect a little with Tully, expositing at him for our benefit while getting to listen to that tape he made at the start of last episode... and, creepily, there are voices on it, voices that we didn't hear at the time. This is creepy, unnerving, and probably a scene remembered by Steven Moffat.

The stakes are higher, suddenly; there's also the crew of a submarine and an airman who died in a dogfight (hence the cliffhanger), and Steel is worried that the station may be a "recruiting ground for the dead". there are enough cool and new concepts to keep me interested so far. But will this story run out of steam soon as the last one did...?

Captain Marvel (2019)

" If toast is cut diagonally, I can't eat it."

I should say fromthe start that I love this film, more so than most Marvel films and you can see (look at the Marvel Index) that I have a pretty damn high opinion of most of them. Partly, that's because the is a damn good blockbuster film of a science fiction nature. Partly it's the feminist message, even if it is a bit vague and "girl power" (how very '90s). Partly, though, it's because this film scratches my Marvel fan itch in a way few others have.

Let's take it as read that this works well as the first Marvel film with a female lead (rather late), and that Brie Larsen is xcellent. Let us enjoy the '90s setting, the awesome soundtrack, the impressive CGI that turns Samuel L. Jackson, with a pretty damn large part, into his '90s self with perfection. Oh, and let us briefy stop to note that, fo a Marvel zombie of my age, Captain Marvel is not Carol Danvers (Binary!), or Mar-Vell, and certainly not Billy Bloody Batson. It's Monica Rambeau. and, if you don't get that, read some '80s Avengers when Roger Stern was writing and Jim Shooter was the best boss Marvel ever had. Ah, nostalgia.

So let us, er, marvel at the tribute to Stan at the start, and then at the faithful recreation of both the Kree- we see Hala, Yon-Rogg (an excellent Jude Law), in a variation of the origin of Mar-Vell (female here, a nice touch), Dr Minerva (Gemma Chan of Humans), Captain Atlas, and of course Ronan the Accuser. But let us also enjoy the twist of the Skrulls (whose design is very Fantastic Four #2) being not only thgoodies but also just refugees, victims of the evil Kree, and not a galaxy-spanning empire.  Let us also marvel as the design of all things Kree, which is excitingly faithful to the comics.

This is right up there with the best Marvel films. Can we see Carol anvers agaon, please? And the Monica Rambeau of the present day?

The Sign of Four (1987 TV Film)

 "Once you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains- however improbable- must be the truth."

This is the first feature length episode of the variously titled '80s ITV Sherlock Holmes starring Jeremy Brett, and the first of Conan Doyle's novels to be adapted. It certainly feels like a big event: with a strong cast- John Thaw is superb as Jonathan Small despite his accent being all over the place- and some truly luscious location filming for the scenes in India told in flashback at the end.

It is, as usual, a rather faithful adaptation- and, of course, an adaptation of only the second Sherlock Holmes story, before Conan Doyle had quite found his style. Hence, while there are momens of decuction, the whole thing feels more of an adventure story, with more weight on Smalls story than the usual format would prescribe- echoing A Study in Scarlet, with its lengthy postscript in Utah which I skipped, any you probably did too.

There's a little vague racism in the original, inevitably for a novel published in 1890. At least this adaptation discreetly corrects the name "Mahomet Singh", although the use of a rubber mask for Kiran Shah playing Smalls diminuitive Andaman Islander friend, despite the lack of screen tim, is excruciating, and could not be shown today. Then there's Emrys Jones and his comedy Welshman...

It's amusing to see such early Holmes tropes as the Baker Street Irregulars, and that Watson's marriage to Mary Morstan is downplayed. Yet the whole thing is sumptuously shot and made, the cast is superb and, as ever, Brett is superlative.

The Return of Sherlock Holmes: The Six Napoleons

 "Watson! This is no time for humbugs!"

This is an interesting choice of episode for a season finale- the short story by Conan Doyle, I recall, works rather well as a detective story with the twist being particularly effective. While there are plenty of twists and turns here, and the episode functions rather well as a mystery, there is a lot more going on here.

The structure, as is sometimes the case, is a little odd, with a lengthy series of opening scenes, with all dialogue entirely in unsubtitled Italian leading us, like Lestrade, to suspect that these stereotypically excitable Italians (including one Marina Sirtis) have some connection to the Mafia- after all we, unlike Lestrade, have probably seen The Godfather, and there's some clever misdirection in getting us to think of Senor Venucci as a kind of Don Corleoni figure.

But I think there's something else going on. All these excitable characters, wearing their emotions on their sleeves, are intended as a contrast with Holmes. For this is a superb episode for examining Holmes as a human being, and Jeremy Brett gets to act his talented little socks off.

The friendship between Holmes and Watson on one side, and Lestrade on the other, is superbly captured. There's a real rivalry, yes, but also a mutual affection, although of course one that can never be stated. The dialogue, the looks, Lestrade's tolerance for Holmes' quirks, all are superbly written, acted and directed. And that final scene, where Holmes awkwardly accepts Lestrade's fulsome praise, hints at the obvious supposition that Holmes may not be entirely neurotypical, without being reductive about it. Simply superb.

Franz Ferdinand- Franz Ferdinand (2004)

I first heard of this band in the pags of the NME- remember that? 2004 wasn't that long ago, but it feels as though it was in the midst of an age where music was curated by the music press and things could never be otherwise. In fact, it was an age that would not really outlast the decade, but it certainly didn't feel like that in 2004 despite Melody Maker having already rung down the curtain and joined the choir invisible.

I had long hair then and have long hair now, and have always identified as being a sort of metalhead and sort-of post-punk type, albeit with omnivorous tastes. But by 2001-ish I'd abandoned Kerrang!- it was getting too tabloidy for me, and I just didn't like all these yelping post-punk bands with prominent rhythm guitars and still don't- and turned more often to the NME, which in the wake of the Strokes was full of indie bands (by the '00s definition) which looked askance at Coldplay, landfill indie and such dreariness and instead turned to influences such as Wire and Devo, roducing gloriously weird stuff before fizzling out; indie music had sort of become dreary again by 2007 or so, and has mainly remained so ever since.

But this album... how glorious, how weird and yet how addictive. It's song structures are often odd yet it's full of top tunes, spawning a huge number of singles and yet the best song on here- "Auf Achse"- isn't even a single. Let this album stand as the utimte symbol of an age when indie music was actually exciting.

Sapphire & Steel: Assignment Two- The Railway Station, Part 1

 "You see, it happens to be more than just a ghost..."

This episode is, in some ways, very different. This is only the second Assignment, of course: we're still exploring what this delightfully weird series is about and what it can do. This time we've already met Sapphire and Steel and so we don't need such a blatant audience identification figure like Rob: instead we get George Tully, a ghost hunter in late middle age, and said ghost haunting a disused railway platform which presumably fell victim to the dreaded Dr Beeching and his snip, snip, snip.

It's an eerie setting, all the way through. There's a little dry humour in Steel's rudeness towards Tully, needing to be smoothed over by the more diplomatic Sapphire, and a fair bit of subtle amusement on Sapphire's part on her partner's lack of social graces. This is a nice little character touch.

But there's a lot of intrigue too. What is this thing that appears to be a ghost? In our brief glimpses it appears to be a first world war soldier, and when Sapphire's clothes briefly change she starts to look Edwardian. And the late October night seems to smell like summer- the mof 1914? And , at the end, we have a sudden ghostly feelng of hate and resentment. I'm intrigued. This is a solid start.

Radiohead- In Rainbows (2007)

This album really made us all sit up and take notice in 2007, of course, by its initial release as a download which, bravely, invited us to pay whatever we wanted to. The video for "Jigsaw Falling into Place" was on heavy rotation on all the rock and indie music channels on the telly, far more widespread in 2007 than they are today, giving us the impression that the band may be moving slightly towards a more accessible sound, the prospect of which gave me mixed feelings.

In 2021, this doesn't ound that way at all, but simply a further development of Radiohead's less commercial but much richer new direction from Kid A onwards. "Jigsaw Falling into Place", as the obvious single, is perhaps an outlier with its relatively radio-friendly sound: the rest of the album is very much a soundscape, and a captivating one.

This album, shorn of its context after fourteen years, is a masterpiece. I suspect I'll be saying similar things about other Radiohead albums. By this point, they can do no wrong.

The Return of Sherlock Holmes: The Priory School

 "You have given me back my future..."

Another splendid episode here, with a more or less faithful adaptation of the story filmed in the glorious surroundings of the Derbyshire Dales where the Midlands meets the North, and partly filmed in Chatsworth House itself.

It should be a commonplace by now to point out that Jeremy Brett is sublime, but this episode gives him more opportunities than usual to enjoy himself with Homes' many physical and verbal mannerisms that his performance made definitive. edward Hardwick excels too, though in a slightly reduced role. It's always good to see Christopher Benjamin, too.

The story, as with Doyle's original, is an entertaining one, although it is further than most Sherlock Holmes stories from fulfilling the rules of detective fiction which did not then exist. Could there be, perhaps, in the story of the Duke's family originating as cattle thieves, a little light mockery of the whole aristocratic principle on the part of the good Dr Doyle? I ought to re-read the short story and see. But this, as an adaptation, is pretty much faultless. Right now, they bloody well all are..,

The Return of Sherlock Holmes: The Man with the Twisted Lip

 "I sometimes wonder whether men ever really, truly grow up."

This is another superb episode, again a rather faithful adaptation which, if we can forgive Conan Doyle for perpetuating the myth of the wealthy professional beggar, is a rather clever and well-structured little mystery- unless one happens to guess the twist upon which all depends.

I hadn't noticed untill watching this adaptation that the opening sequence, with Watson helping poor Mrs Whitney with her opium addict husband, perfectly mirrors what turns out to be the case with Mrs St Clair and her own, less obviously errant husband. That's a clever piece of foreshadowing, and there's a very interesting theme of long-suffereig, responsible wives and their immature and selfish husbands. I'm not used to seeing such a clear subtext. And I trust that Conan Doyle, writing this in the 1890s, was not intentionally propagating the myth that there are professional beggars who can genuinely sustain a wealthy lifestyle.

The narrative being partly in flashback sadly reduces the screen ime a little for Jeremy Brett, who is as superlative as ever, but Edwardd Hardwicke certainly has the presence to carry scenes on his own. It's great to see the wonderful Denis Lill as Inspector Bradstreet, and Clive Francis is incredible.

So here we have yet another excellent episode. Surely we're due a dud at some point?

It's a Sin: Part 5

 "I haven't handled this well. I realise this now."

RTD, you magnificent bastard. You have this grown man still teary an hour after seeing the episode, damn you. You get us to like these very human characters, and then you do horrible things to them.

This is an incredible conclusion to a sublime television drama that will be remembered through the ages. Keeley Hawes shows us exactly why she's there in what had previously seemed like a suspiciously small role as Valerie realises what's happening with her dying son ("I've got AIDS. I'm gay" all at once) and reacts with a heartbreakingly realistic sense of denial and a very specific type of bigotry, the bigotry of Middle England and the Daily Mail: the bigotry that sees itself as "common sense". RTD absolutely nails this attitude as Richie's parents whisk him off to the Isle of Wight and keep him away from the people he loves- and Ash, his boyfrend, is stuck in London.

It's not all about Richie's death: Roscoe starts to reconcile with his contrite father, shocked at the treatment of AIDS patients in Nigeria. Valerie says some interesting things about Jil having no life of her own, and we see at the end how Jill, a familiar face to the hospital staff, holds the hands of men dying from AIDS, whether she knows them or not. She's lovely.

The dialogue, the characterisation, the structure, all of them are perfect. The fact that we end not with Richie's death but, like a wake, a flashback to a moment that makes us smile. The lttle things about Valerie's reaction- and how Richie's dad, previously so firm abot Richie's career choices, just collapses emotionally. The skeweing of a sort of stiff-upper-lip English type of family emotion. And, of course, the cruel revelation of Richie having dies alone, kept away from his real family. Jill's parting words to Valerie are powerful and, I think, authorial voice: the real tragedy of AIDS is that so many men died in shame, shame of what they were, shame that is drip, drip, dripped on them by a culture that erases and centures any thing that does not conform to traditional family values. The curse of Middle England, that evil place.

Premature Burial (1962)

 "I don't enjoy life. I merely experience greater or lesser degrees of tedium."

I haven't seen any of Roger Corman's Poe films for quite a while. This is mainly because there aren't many left to blog and I don't want to end up with none left. This one, while its reputation is solid enough, is not much talked about. 

Well, it's brilliant. From a short story by Poe with very little incident it takes the concept of premature burial itself, the idea of catalpesy making one appear dead; and the horrible irony of the fear of premature burial causing said catalepsy. But little else is taken from Poe, mainly because there isn't much else; Poe's brilliance is in his prose.

So, instead, we have the character of Guy, loosely based on the short story's narrator (Ray Milland does a decent job but the role, alas, is one that Vincent Price was born to play. And, for once in a Corman Poe fim, he doesn't.) and a delightfully gothic, obviously studio-bound setting, which quite rightly prefers the gothic and macabre over the realistic. This is a world where the weather, the Technicolor lighting, the shapes of the trees, all are carefully arranged in order to maximise the gothic eeriness.

More than this, though, the plot is awfully clever. We spend the early scenes building u the tension and enjoying the facr that, as this is shot and scripted the way it is, Guy will be buried alive in the end. We expect the whole film to be predictable... and yet the plot is awfully clever, with multiple twists at the end that are all the more effective for the fact the film gave no indication that any twists would be forthcoming.

Oh, and Alfred from the Adam West Batman series (look at the pages on the right) has easily the best line.

The Thing from Another World (1951)

 "We aready found one boner..."

I've never seen this film before, unless you count the fact that characters watch it in Halloween. I'm impressed; it's well-made, well acted and scripted, and with realistic characters, all of which make this a serious film and not the B movie I was expecting. It's genuinely good. Except... it's actually quite dull in places.

The film has a lot to go for it. The characters feel real, including the only woman, Nikki, who comes across as intelligent and real. There's even a flirting scene between her and the Captain, featuring bondage(!) and some flirtatious dialogue that actually comes across as convincing. There's a slightly obsessive doctor who becomes more and more obsessed with studying the creature and preserving it whatever the cost- and interesting variation on the maerick scientist trope.

The concept is interesting and well-developed, too- an alien plant-based life form, completely different from us. There's also a lot of tension, especially in the earlier half of the film. The Arctic setting is nicely claustrophobic.

And yet... the plot is basically a padded out base under siege. The creature is found, gets loose, nd prowls around the base killing people until it's cught. Barring a few characer-based sub-threads, that's pretty much it. That's the plot. Pure base under siege and decidedly formulaic. The end result is a film which feels high quality but never quite succeeds in scaring us or getting us to invest in the stakes. That's a pity, and a surprise.

Bonding: Season Two, Episodes Four, Five, Six, Seven and Eight

 Episode Four: Threesomes

"Was he always this crazy?”

The plot lines continue to unravel cleverly. Pete, in a club, sees Josh’s somewhat unhinged ex, someone physically very similar to himself, and realised that he fits a pre-existing type for Josh and that, perhaps, Josh may be a little shallow. Meanwhile, Tiff is studiously avoiding Doug after he declared his love last episode, and Pete discovers that Tiff has been lying to him about Mistress Mira’s sessions. He seems to take it rather well, but this hints at future ructions.

Most interestingly, and unexpectedly, Doug is in hospital after having been hit by a taxi, and Tiff (assisted by some weed, in a hospital in all places!) ends up bonding rather well with Doug’s ex, and ends up telling her she can’t love him- overheard by Doug.

Episode Five: Nanci

"I love you, Nanci.”

Interestingly, a large chunk of this episode is devoted to Tiff helping a rather rich old school friend to have her first ever orgasm- a problem for many women, and not necessarily so easily or unconvincingly solved. It’s a sweet scene, but Tiff doesn’t seem to do enough to justify the adorably explosive result.

Meanwhile, Pete and Doug talk, and Doug makes unconvincing promises to come out.

Episode Six: The Lost Egg

"Waddle for me, baby!”

Penguin fetish man is back, which I’m sure is the one thing all of us Bonding fans were hoping for from this second season. Alas, though, he ends up telling Pete he’s no longer interested, meaning Pete now has no clients as a Dom, and this no real connection to the BDSM world other than his tenuous one with Tiff. He’s becoming unmoored. This does not bode well.

We learn that Josh’s conservative dad is... Mistress Mira’s sub. And she also has a vanilla husband called Keith. She’s a wise, decent, emotionally intelligent person. He’s lucky to have her.

Alas, things between Tiff and Doug are not so sweet. We end with quite a nasty row. Have they split up?

Episode Seven: Stand Me Up, Stand Me Down

"This is not your story to tell...”

This is the penultimate episode, so everything has to hit rock bottom.

Josh’s coming out to his father is probably as much of a disaster as it could possibly be. His dad upstages him by coming out first as a submissive masochist, reacts with vague homophobia (he is indeed a Christian conservative, but “Jesus was a masochist”), and Pete does the coming out for him. Oh, and he learns that his late mum was his dad’s Domme, which is, er, nice.

Unsurprisingly, he and Pete split up... and Josh’s workmates are actually totally fine with his sexual orientation.

Just as bad, Pete overhears Tiff talking about him, how he fathered her baby and getting rid of the foetus without telling him, and how she literally pays him to hang around. Ouch. Cue a massive row... and Pete ends up having to do a comedy gig, with an agent in the audience, when really not in the mood. This is nicely structured plotting, even if it does tend to fit the template for penultimate Netflix episodes.

Just as nicely done, we end in a none of hope as Tiff cries in Doug’s arms.

 

Episode Eight: Permission

"I can't explain why I love you..."

So we end with a broadly satisfying concluion but on that deliberately leaves things unresolved. Tiff and Doug get together again and she declares her love at last, which is lovely. Pete accepts that Doug was never for him. Mistress Mira decides that the Dommes of New York need to flee the nest and look after themselves. 

Yet there are big question marks about Pete. He and Tiff part on better terms after clearing the air, but they part without reconciling. Pete is still in the wrong, I think, seeming to accept a TV comedy gig to mock a world which was never his and that he has no right to mock. Is he really going to be that much of a dick? Alas, the ending is ambiguous. But, yet again, the characters are superbly written and acted.

Here’s hoping for a third season.

The Return of Sherlock Holmes: The Musgrave Ritual

 "And the singular affair of the aluminium crutch."

We have another splendid episode here- a delightful little gothic puzzle which provides us with some entertainment as the mystery is solved yet, for the unfortunate and proud Mr Brunton, his death, amidst a subtext of class (the butler is cleverer than his master by far yet must not be seen to go "above his station") and sexual passion (he's been a naughty boy).

There is a major change from the original Conan Doyle short story in that the whole thing take place in the mid-1890s of the present day, with Watson very much part of the story, although Holmes' early tease of the glorious titles of some of his early cases hint at the story's origins- a nice touch. It's also pleasing to see that, correctly, the servants and the inspector (Ian Marter, shortly before his awful death) speak in a West Country-type accent which we would not usually today associate with Sussex but once (with variations) spread all the way from Cornwall to Kent- although I'm in no way fit to judge the specific accuracy of the accents here. But the fact the Sussex accent is now extinct shows, sadly, how little respect the "Home Counties" have for their own regional culture and heritage. We in the Midlands ought to take note, me duck.

The cast is strong and the tale is a satisfying one both intellectually- I love how Holmes decodes the ritual- and in terms of character. And the final revelation, with the fireplace behind, is quite masterful.

Catweazle: Season 1, Episode 7- The Telling Bone

 "Though braying bolster! Thou black beehive!"

This episode is... well, more of the same. It's another farce, as Catweazle's spell goes wrong and he ends up not in the 11th century but hanging precariously on to a church spire, where he meets the vicar (Mr Barraclough from Porridge) and a series of comical misunderstandings ensue, mostly based around the telephone.

Also, Sam has a vintage car, which he gots for £10 and which Mr Bennet disparages as an old banger. I suppose, in 1970, it would be the equivalent of an old '80s banger. But all we get is by-the-book farce and comedy based on Sam's mother being a bit of a battleaxe. Bayldon is wonderful, as ever, and so is Brian Wilde. But this episode is a bit of a pointless misfire. Kids' telly should aim higher than this.

Sapphire & Steel: Assignment One- Escape Through a Crack in Time, Part 6

 "Goodbye, Rob."

Probably best not to analyse this last episode too much; some stuff happens and we're back at the beginning, courtest of "The House That Jack Built". It's an entertaining spectacle, especially with Rob in the past as the house is being built, and all the storytelling beats are there... but it makes no real narrative sense. This episode feels oddly as though it's not so much a final episode but just a series of events in the shape of a final episode.

Again, no new cool concepts are introduced; this is about finishing things rather than throwing new ideas around. It all feels dramatic enough but there's a real vagueness to what happens.

This first serial, overall, introduces a mindblowingly good concept and throws loads of equally mindblowing ideas at us... but at six parts it's about a third too long, and most of the cool ideas are focused in the early episodes. This is what prevents what was a promising story from being quite as good overall as the early episodes seemed to indicate.

Still, overall this is a promising start. On to the next serial...

It's a Sin: Part 4

 "Something's wrong with your skin..."

Four episodes in it's quite clear that this series is an extraordinary masterpiece; following Colin's death last episode we have nothing comparable here, but we have somebloody good drama where, yet again, each character gets developed and every character is three dimensional and real. RTD has had a long and distinguised career, but this is his magnum opus.

It's 1988. We get THAT advert. We get a superb bit on Section 28 where Ash also gets to point out how history and culture has erased LGBT+ people for centuries. Well, except for Mary Renault. But this is also a time where the Pink Palace gang are attending funeral after funeral in what looks like a punishing schedule. There's a powerful moment at a funeral where it's pointed out that the vicar hasn't mentioned the dead man's boyfriend, and indeed he has no rights at all.

But greed is good. Richie and Jill have got a mortgage on the Pink Palace- even if Richie has to lie about his sexual orientation; it seems, incredibly, you could be denied a mortgage for being gay. But the fact that Richie and Jill have joined the Thatcherite revolution (Richie even voted Tory!) is soundtracked, inevitably, by Yazz' "The Only Way Is Up". The soundtrack of this entire series is really rather glorious, and often clever in how it uses those well-known '80s hits that have almost become divorced from their original context.

There's a fascinating sub-plot with Roscoe, and his dalliance with a Tory MP, portrayed to perfection by Stephen Fry, who doesn't see himself as gay because he's a top. There's a perfect punchline to this whole sub-plot, and Roscoe himself is a wonderfully nuanced chaacter. I love his outburst about how he loved Colin, but Colin behaved himself, and died- so why behave?

But Richie. Oh Richie. It's implicit, after last episode and given his cautious behaviour throughout, that he is HIV positive, and it's while acting with some Daleks (ah, RTD!) that it becomes clear something is wrong and he has full- lown AIDs. He fails to tell his blood family, who seem to live in a different world, and ends up telling all his friends in the back of a police van after a defiantly awesome demonstration. And the last line is perfect. 

I'll save the real superlatives for the finale; I have high hopes.

Drunken Master (1978)

 "Fart for the stick king..."th century

Today's film is brought to you, appropriately, with four pints of Bishop's Finger. Perhaps it should have been Chinese wine. 

By this point I've seen a few kung fu films, and this is my second Jackie Chan film after Snake in Eagle's Shadow last week. This film is, on reflection, my favourite. Better than any Bruce Lee film I've seen (follow the tags), or indeed The 36th Chamber of Shaolin.

I've praised Jackie Chan before, and  shall praise him again, His martial arts skills are awe-inspiring even to a layman such as myself, yet his physical comedy skills ae extraordinary, beyond anyone else in the sound era and comparable to Buster Keaton.

Chan plays Wong Fei-Hung, a folk hero and historical figure, a mischievous kind of late 19th century Robin Hood archetype, while the wonderful Siu-Rin Yuen plays Beggar So, who apparently appears as a Yoda figure in a number of mainly '70s and '80s kung fu films. The film is, despite being a comedy (and rather a good one), a serious kung fu fulm as far as the various styles are concerned, although it perpetuates the myth that the drunken style lierally involves the consumption of significant quantities of booze. This is false; only blogging it does.

i enjoyed this film hugely, both as a comedy and a kung fu film. I'm also beginning to recognise individual actors, and Siu-Rin Yuen is magnificent. This is an unmissable masterpiece of the genre.

Look Back in Anger (1959)

 "I learned at an early age what it was to be angry..."

I've never seen a John Osborne play before, and this film puts me in an awkward position. Firstly, I'm inevitably going to be talking about the play more than the excellently shot prduction and, secondly, this isn't the play itself; it's a screenplay adapted by Nigel Kneale who, while well-known for science fiction of the more intellectual and despairing kind, is a strangely appropriate person to adapt this very '50s howl of existentialist, post-imperial despair.

Because that's what it is. It's existentialist, with Jimmy wrestling with the very '50s angst of finding purpose in a purposeless world, with a certain kind of period ennui. It's about class, in a strangely apolitical way. It's realist, if you're comparing it (as people mainly did) to the likes of Terence Rattigan, although the dialogue is a bit too polished for it to be truly that. It feels vaguely left-wing without necessarily having any coherent political point. It's genuinely good, if simultaneously deep and empty. Yet, ultimately, it's far more dated in 2021 than Rattigan wil ever be. It's poetic, its characters are passionately real, bt ultimately it's not actually about anything.

We're supposed to like Jimmy, the "angry young man", the university graduate who works on a stall, slumming it, as what Douglas Couland would call a "slacker" a few decades later. Yet, good as Richard Burton is, Jimmy is a pretentious, misogynistic arsehole who physically abuses his wife with an iron and seems unmoved at the news he's to become a dad. Yet I have a feeling he's supposed to stand as a sympathetic symbol of university educated, working class young men who feel alienated at.... well, nothing in particular. It would be different if he'd been shown to be aspiring to greater things but struggling at the lack of social mobility, but there's no suggestion of any such thing. There's mention of the American age, of the end of empire, of death. Admittedly it's a rather dull time where people were waiting for the '60s to happen. But, to me, Jimmy is just an unpleasant wanker.

Ths is a good film based on what looks to be a good and thought-provoking play. But, social mores aside, this comes across as old-fashioned in 2021 in ways that Terence Rattigan doesn't.

Bonding: Season Two, Episodes One, Two and Three

 This time I'm not blogging the whole thing in one sitting, probably wisely.

 

Episode One: The Kinks

"Domme 101..."

Overall, considering Tiff and Pete were seemingly in very srious trouble at the end of last season, they seem to have got off rather lightly, with Tiff merely having been banned from using any of the dungeons in town and ostracised from the local BDSM community- which seems fair enough, given the litany of faults recited by Mistress Mira, a character I really like already; Nana Mensah is truly impressive here, and frankly the best performer in this.

It's an entertaining premise, with both of them having to go back to BDSM school before Tiff can even think about being a domme again, let alone a dominatrix. And we also have some promising character stuff, with New Year's Eve falling a bit flat as Doug's ex turns up while Pete's boyfriend turns out not to be out to his wanker frat boy friends. For a series with such short episodes this sets things up rather well.

 

Episode Two

"It's cause I have a big dick."

I'm enjoying this second series earlier on than I did the first; it doesn't need to establish the characters or premise so it can get on with things. It also helps that, with episodes being just eighteen minutes long, there's only a certain amount of plot per episode so we can still take time to savour the characterisation and witty dialogue.

I love the submissive bloke getting off on the humiliation of bombing on stage, like Andy Kaufman. And there's some nicely nuanced stuff on Pete's reaction to Josh being to some extent still within the closet. There are also hints, making a lot of sense, that Pete may actually be submissive. And there's some clever character stuff around puppy play. There's a lot going on here.

Episode Three

"May I hold the German?"

The BDSM class proceeds, this time through a rather entertaining montage, but the plot thickens. Tiff is doing well in class, blossoming as a fin sub- and is the financial submissive actually Josh's "conservative" dad or am I being misdirected? But Pete, as Mistress Mira has noticed, is taking things rather less seriously. Hence the beginnings of what is perhaps an inevitable rift between between him and Tiff. 

Meanwhile, the spotlight turns to Frank, and his worries not only about supporting his regnat wife but his (rather gendered) self-esteem as a man. Meanhile there's also some contrasting development for Doug, who may himself befeminist enogh to teach other men about the Patriarchy, comes to realise aspects of his own unexamined misogyny. There's a lot going on, again. Moreover, he and Tiff, with shades of McLuhan, are unable to communicate their feelings to each other well. This is good stuff.

Enola Holmes (2020)

 “

This is, incredibly, the first and only film I’ve seen and blogged from the current decade. I suppose this isn’t really much of a surprise, with relatively few films being released in 2020. The times we’re living in remind me of the time of Shakespeare where plague closed the playhouses.

I enjoyed this little Netflix film, though. It’s an adaptation of a series of “Young Adult” novels by Nancy Springer, and it’s a revelation. Clever, fun, fourth wall-breaking to the point of our eponymous heroine frequently addressing the audience, this is a rather marvellous little film.

It helps that Millie Bobby Brown is such a charismatic and compelling lead- there's clearly a lot more to her than Eleven. Helena Bonham Cater s, inevitably, delightfully barmy. Henry Cavill is a bit wooden but you can't have everything, and it's good to see Burn Gorman as a solid baddie.

The conceit is bloody good; Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes have a much younger sister who is being raised in a solidly feminist way by their wonderfully radical mother- and there's a nice underlying subtext of electoral reform, including votes for women. The real-life Representation of the People Act of 1884 plays a big role in the plot. It's a shame Mycroft has to be retconned as the less clever sibling, and actively reactionary to boot, but you can see why this is necessary.

This is a yoyful, wonderful, metataxtual film which has much fun with the fourth wall, is enormously funy and has some rollicking adventure to boot. Superb stuff.

The Return of Sherlock Holmes- The Second Stain

 "The motives of women are so inscrutable..."

This, again is a very strong episode- again adapted from a particularly strong Conan Doye short story, althogh yet again one in which the "rules" of detective fiction, which had yet to be drawn up when Conan Doyle was writing, 

Brett is wonderful, as ever, imbuing far more character into Holmes than Conan Doyle's dialogue hints at. I love his leap of joy as the episode ends. It's a strong cast too- a young Patricia Hodge impresses, and Harry Andrews is enormously charismatic as priime minister Lord Bellinger. Is he a fictionalised Lord Salisbury? The short story is set in the Summer or Autumn of 1888, long before The Final Problem. This would be shortly after the accession of Wilhelm II, which would make sense as I think it's clear he is the "foreign potentate" who writes the offending letter.

Such things are piffling, however. This is superb telly. I love so many things- Lestrade's misplaced smugness, making me rather fond of the man; the kerfuffle at the start as the distinguished visitors are expected; the fact that late Victorian London comes alive before our eyes. I'm well aware that sharks will at some point be jumped, but right now it feels as though the series can do no wrong.

Sapphire & Steel: Assignment One- Escape Through a Crack in Time, Part 5

 "They're the real danger, the real threat. Nothing else is."

I love this serial, as all the gushing I've done maks quite clear. But, unfortunately this episode, while it fills the time adequately enough, suffers from a fairly obvious case of Penultimate Episode Syndrome. It's far too obvious that it's just passng the time until the finale.

The main point is that all three patches of light are now loose, and there is much peril. Other than that, the main thing is Rob being persuaded into the cellar by something pretending to be hia dad, ending with Lead ripping the cellar door open so that he, Sapphire and Steel can venture in for the finale.

And that's it; no new fresh conceptual weirdness to stimulate our minds this time. There's a nice character bit about how Steel, being so stern and serious, is rubbish with kids (such as Helen, while both Sapphire and the big but cheerful Lead are much better in this regard- the contrast is basically me both before and after I became a dad.

So let's proceed to the finale...

The Return of Sherlock Holmes- The Abbey Grange

 "The game is afoot!”

This is, perhaps, one of the finer episodes, where the production and acting are very much on form in an adaptation of what is, while perhaps not one of the more well known of Conan Doyle’s short stories, certainly one of the better ones.

I’m blogging the series, not the short stories; I’ve read everything Conan Doyle ever wrote featuring Holmes (and, I must confess, absolutely none of his other stuff, which would have annoyed him) at least once, but in all cases some time ago. And that “some time ago” you just read was written by a man of forty-three years.

However, I simply have to comment on the story here. Conan Doyle was never really one for the “rules” of murder mysteries; said rules were only codified by Father Knox in 1928 after all, the year after Conan Doyle finished writing Holmes. Yet here we have what looks like a classic mystery of a murdered squire in a country house, with a billiard room to boot... and the killer turns out to be some randomer we hadn’t previously met. And Holmes lets him off. Incredibly, it’s all quite satisfying because of this precisely because the question isn’t so much whodunit as how and why. Things were more fluid before Father Knox came along with his rules.

This is a superb production, of course, and Brett is magnificent; I particularly love his discomfort as Lady B hugs him, and as ever he delivers Conan Doyle’s lines with depth and character. Hardwicke, in his first filmed episode, impresses too. The whole series seems as good as ever at this point.

It's a Sin: Part 3

 "Don't lose your head..."

Dammit. All these bloody feelings. RTD, you are one magnificent bastard.

Right. Obviously, Colin, but let's touch on the other stuff. AIDS has already touched the Pink Palace and taken Gloria, but at this point evryone is under siege. Lovely Jill is volunteering on the phones to help. Richie has a new boyfriend, a fellow thespian with similarly big dreams- there's an interesting cht about how being "out" means career death ("I Clavdiv's gay!")- but we get the horribly realistic scene of struggling with a condom and then deciding to go without- only for Richie to see the tell-tale carcinomas on his lover's back the following morning. We have a hint that, while Ash and Roscoe are both negative (a miracle for Roscoe), Richie may not be so lucky.

Plus, there's other stuff, like Roscoe making the acquantance of a Tory MP who will presumably be important later as he's played by Stephen Fry. But Colin...

It's clever how it's eventually revealed how Colin got infected- at least he had a few good shags after all. But to die like that, at twenty-four, going senile, is just horrible. Equally vile is the prejudice- from the local copper who locks him in a hospital ward by court order (until a kick-ass solicitor busts his balls in a highly enjoyable scene) to the local firm refusing to do a funeral. But Colin's mum is a truly lovely person, and the bond she builds with the whole gang is a wonderful thing. I'm glad we got a character like that.

But oooh, Colin. This is brilliant telly. But ouch.

Snake in the Eagle's Shadow (1978)

 "I'll need new socks!"

Last week I watched and blogged The Mystery of Chess Boxing, a '70s Hong Kong kung fu film. It was, in a word, pants- just not very well made at all. This film, happily, is an example of the genre done well.

The plot is, broadly, similar, yet the direction is from another planet- stylish, crisp and, importantly, manages to clearly tell the story visually in a way the other film utterly fails to do.

Like The Mystery of Chess Boxing, this is a kung fu film full of lots of action but also a great deal of physical comedy, with the hero a bullied underdog- and, yes, both films have a touch of the old "bullying is character-building" nonsense- but the difference in quality is enormous. The kung fu, it's been pointed out to me, genuinely is in the various different styles this time. And here we have plenty of extended scenes of comical kung fu-themed slapstick, but this time done not ony with impressive skills but also real comic timing. Certain sequences in this film remind me of Buster Keaton or Harold Lloyd. The physical comedy is that good.

It helps, of course, that the film stars Jackie Chan, whom I've somehow contrived to avoid encountering before after blogging more than 700 films over the last ten years. He's awesome not only in terms of the acting and kung fu but also in terms of comic timing- you can see how this film launched him in a successful niche of kung fu films with a fair dollop of comedy. Yet the comic acting is strong throughout the whole cast, as is the kung fu.

I enjoyed this a lot. All as part of a balanced diet, of course, but I see more Jackie Chan and more Hong Kong kung fu in my none-too-distant future.

All the President’s Men (1976)

 “Follow the money!"

This is the second time I've seen this film- my first viewing was many years before this blog was even imagined. Nevertheless, I'm as blown away by this magnificent film now as I was back then.

This is, despite the desperately important subject matter- back in 1976 we all thought Nixon's sins were the worst imaginable, and had no concept of the sheer evil of Trump- a film about the process and the excitement of investigative jurnalism. Oh, it's beautifully and thoughtfully shot; Robert Redford and Dustin Hoffman are sublime, with a nod to the superb Jason Robards; the script is witty, philosophical and natural all at once; and yet it all boils down to the thrill of the chase.

Nixon appears only in stock footage; only functionaries appear in the film. Action is punctuated throughout by radio footage of the 1972 campaign, and the implosion of the Democrats through Republican ratf**king. We see literally everything from the perspective of Woodward and Bernstein, knowing what they know, being utterly unaware that Deep Throat is Mark Felt, and feeling the tension when they have to present their conclusions to Ben Bradlee, properly sourced. It's a thrilling advertisment to journalism as a career in a pre-digital age, and the many scenes of witnesses being cleverly interviewed are fascinating. This is a very strange and very brave sort of film to be so unequivocally sublime. It's up there with the very greatest.

Still, the Republicans in 1972 may have been corrupt bastards- but they weren't fascists who hated freedom, as is every Republican today who fails to recognise Biden as president or fails to condemn Majorie Taylor Green and all of her ilk. May the party either die or suddenly accept democracy.

Sapphire & Steel: Assignment One- Escape Through a Crack in Time, Part 4

 "Well, I sank the real one, yes."

In some ways this fourth episode gives us spins on what we've already seen, not that this is a bad thing as the concepts have hardly lost their novelty. Hence we have last week's haunting cliffhanger resolved by Steel having frozen himself to absolute zero, returning Sapphire to reality somehow, and freezing the Roundheads. We have a new nursery rhyme at the end causing wind, well-directed chaos and more Roundheads. Again, we have a compelling piece of weird horror that doesn't place huge demands on the budget.

We also, this time, get some answers as to whom Sapphire and Steel are- although, as the best answers do, they only serve to give us further questions. So the oft-mentioned ship turns out to have been the Mary Celeste. And, as Sapphire tells Rob, there are 127beings like Steel and herself- only for Steel to reduce that number to 115 because the "Transuranics" are unstable. That still doesn't explain why Sapphire, Steel, and several other agents named in the opening monologue are not actually elements but never mind.

Of course, the episode is mostly about the appearance of Lead, a jolly giant with mysterious "insulation" powers. He's full of intriguing gossip, too- "Jet sends her love", and "Copper's having problems with Silver- again". I suspect al this will never be fully fleshed at, only hinted at like this- which is as it should be. I wonder how much more mythology will be let slip over the series.

This is still excellent stuff, pacing its six parts very well indeed.

Catweazle: Season 1, Episode 6- The Magic Face

 "Such an English face!"

This is, perhaps, one of the more bog standard episodes with little to make it stand out. Even the plot, an American photographer (and isn't it amusing these days to see film having to be developed, much as the quality was generally better?) taking a picture of Catweazle and his thinking that he is therefore her slave, is humdrum. The fact that Mrs Derringer is such a stereotypical American also helps to give the impression that rather less care was taken with this script than some of the others.

Still, whatever else is going on and in spite of the unremarkableness of the episode, Geoffrey Bayldon continues to be eminently watchable and charismatic, as even Mrs Derringer can see. 

Two shillings an hour to wash a car, that's slavery, though...

Sapphire & Steel: Assignment One- Escape Through a Crack in Time, Part 3

 "You could have settled for Oranges and Lemons..."

This third episode just increases both the timey-wimeyness (as they certainly wouldn't have said in 1979) and the weirdness. Sapphire and Steel is superb.

Last episode, after the massive ideas of the first, calmed down a bit. Here we ramp things up. Yes, the Roundhead ghosts with Goosey Goosey Gander (presumably some kind of Stone Tape-like recording?) may be just another variation of the Ring a Ring o' Roses theme, but this is used as a springboard for some wod stuff- the house is a century younger than the Civil War, so has history gone wrong? And why is Steel apparently so ignorant of history that isn't "his"?

Even cooler is that Sapphire is suddeny trapped in a painting where she is to fatally reenact the hanging of a young girl in the Civil War, a harbinger of a future episode of Torchwood. P.J. Hammond seems almost to be in danger of using up all his ideas in his first serial. This is quite simply awesome.

And yet it's visually very simple- limited casts, limited sets and the main "monster" is a torch shone on the floor. I'm loving this.

The Return of Sherlock Holmes: Series 1- The Empty House

 "Thank you.... Doctor... Watson..."

Well, that was a wholly enjoyable, and somewhat faithful adaptation of The Empty House. It helps, of course, that Edward Hardwicke makes a much more charismatic and believable Watson than the rather flat David Burke. But Jeremy Brett is spellbinding as ever, and the script and production sparkle.

It's an interesting cast, too, featuring a cameo by James Bree giving an extraordinarily mannered performance as the coroner which calls to mind his role as The War Chief in Doctor Who. And Colonel Moran is played superbly by the magnificently voiced Patrick Allen- known to his enemies, and The Black Adder fans, as "The Hawk".

The episode nicely fits in a proper whodunit with Watson- now assisting Lestrade as a police surgeon and making endearing but not always correct attempts at Holmesian deductions: the coroner is, as it happens, correct to chide him for his assumptions. Yet the moment of Holmes' return is wonderful- arsehole though he is for teasing Watson and making hin faint. The explanation of Holmes'survival is both plausible (it contradicts the final shot of The Final Problem but we can, I suppose, see that as Watson's imaginings) and givs a decent reason for why Holmes should have played dead for three years.

This is an extremely strong opener. Yet I'm looking forward to more straight whodunits crammed with character actors.

Jazmin Bean- Worldwide Torture (EP 2019, full album 2020)

 I'd never heard of this very young artist (they are still in their teens, I believe) until Mrs Llamastrangler introduced me to their work yesterday... and their album is extraordinary. I don’t just say that because they are apparently the offspring of the drummer from Fluffy (remember them?) and Ginger Wildheart (I feel old), but because they sound completely unlike any other music I’ve heard from those of their generation which is anywhere near remotely mainstream.

Much of what I’ve managed to find about them on search engines seems to be written by people from the modern day pop world, devotees of a genre I find mostly unlistenable because of the stupid production methods. These people claim that Jasmin Bean sounds like a cross between pop and heavy metal. This is nonsense. Neither the songwriting, their voice nor the guitars sound anything like that.

No; instead, think of the British side of Riot Grrl from back in the day, Daisy Chainsaw rather than Bikini Kill. Think guitar sound that echoes the sort of thing we called “alternative” back in the ‘90s. Think gloriously twisted lyrics with a voice that reminds to an extent of Bat for Lashes but is truly unique. Think of the look of Hole or Babes in Toyland. Think of nipping down Woolworths and buying this LP, or whatever the young ‘uns do these days. This album is a bit good. And in no way makes me feel old.

It's a Sin: Part 2

 "There's nothing wrong with boys from London."

Wow. That was another masterclass in television drama from RTD, again managing to meld the deeply tragic with the humorously human in a way that feels like life, with his extraordinary flair for dialogue and characterisation. The spectre of AIDS gets closer and closer to our three stars, and again claims the life of someone whom we care about.

Richie and Jill, bookending the episode with a pair of duets, five is a stark contrast. Richie’s oh-so-clever conspiracy theory scepticism gets a gloriously choreographed monologue to camera, quite rightly breaking the fourth wall in ways that remind me of RTD’s Casanova, which I haven’t seen since before this blog existed. And yet, one of those theories he mocks about where AIDS could have come from is, probably, correct.

Jill, meanwhile, is keen to learn the truth, sending Colin on a fact finding mission in New York and being Gloria’s only confidant, with him in a devastating scene as he tries to deny what is happening, and looking after him while vigorously sponging herself and washing up with rigour. It was 1984, and people really did know nothing.

There is much else happening- the sadness of how Roscoe being himself is affecting his family, and the uncomfortable scenes of Colin’s lecherous boss trying to have his way with the young man in a very MeTok sort of way until he spots the AIDS literature Colin’s being collecting- leading shortly thereafter to the most cheerful sacking ever.

What haunts us most, though, is the sight of Gloria’s family, at his wake, throwing all his loved possessions on the fire and rejecting who he is. Horrible.

I’m dreading what awaits us next week. And yet this is extraordinary telly, still on track to be RTD’s masterpiece.

The Mystery of Chess Boxing (1979)

 "To play chess, one must be as calm as a mountain."

This film, let us be clear from the start, is utter pants. The pace and tone are all over the place, and the characterisation is weak. But, as I've only seen and blogged half a dozen or so martial arts films, it's interesting to look at why.

We have a decent premise here with a young man setting out to avenge his father's death by training in kung fu and using this to wreak his revenge, while engaging throughout in a martial arts philosophy of five elements and the use of chess (xiangqi, or Chinese chess, a broadly similar game) as some kind of vague metaphor for the right sort of kung fu. All with the addition of various hilarious-looking wigs.

And yet it all falls flat. Too much of the early part of the film is devoted to silly slapstick sequences rather than developing the Ghost Faced Killer or developing the characters; instead we get lots of fancy martial arts and acrobatics and lengthy sequences of hazing at the kung fu school, but very little in the way of character development in order to get us to know or like these people. Instead, the entire film has (in English translation at least) extraordinarily functional dialogue throughout, and a lot of the more dramatic scenes towards the end don't have the intended effect, as we simply aren't sufficiently invested in these characters.

Also, I'm no connoisseur of martial arts, but I'm told the fighting is awkwardly directed, with very little visual evidence of the five different element-based styles. And the chess angle, such as it is, is very superficial indeed. the overall effect is, well, rubbish. And it's a pity; the concept could have worked well with a dedent script and execution

Godzilla vs King Ghidorah (1991)

 "You can tell your son about it when he's born, Major Spielberg."

I thought it was about time I continued with my Godzilla marathon, and this is a massively fun film to return to. This is the best kind of unashamed B movie, which quite properly luxuriates in what it is and doesn't care what you think.

I mean, let's recap the plot: people from the future arrive in Japan giving dire warnings of destruction meaning Godzilla must be destroyed before his birth, but secretly planning to destroy future economic superpower Japan by arranging the creation of the monster King Ghidorah. Fortunately not only is Godzilla brought back bigger than before by a random nuclear sub but the Japanese person amongst them, at one point seeming to be a possible love interest for the male lead but ending up as his great grandaughter (er...) is able to return to her time and bring back a cyborg King Ghidorah to save the day.

Yes, that all actually happens. Gloriously mad, is it not?

This film, with its different backstory for King Ghidorah, with (despite some misdirection) no aliens about, underlines the fact that the films from 1984 onwards are a different continuity. It also adds a nice bit of backstory in that the creature that became Godzilla in 1984 was previously a dinosaur in the South Pacific that saved some Japanese soldiers from an American assault in 1944.

There's lots of splendid city destruction with models. there's lots of cheeky "tributes" to Hollywood too- the computer interface of the time machine looks an awful lot like Doc Brown's DeLorean, while the pursuing android looks suspiciously like the baddie from Terminator 2: Judgement Day. This sort of thing makes the film even more fun.

There's one big caveat, though; Japan never underwent the equivalent of West Germany's de-Nazification, and it shows in the nationalistic subtext here. There's a definite glee in Japan's future economic domination; the android antagonist is definitely coded as American and, worst of all, the Imperial Japanese Army is presented as honourable. Let us be clear: it had absolutely no honour whatsoever, and its officers were not gentlemen.

Disturbing subtext aside, though, I enjoyed this splendidly silly film.

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: Series 2- The Final Problem

 "You have less frontal development than I should have expected..."

This episode is, like the short story to which it is almost entirely faithful except for the detail of having Moriarty behind The Red Headed League, completely unlike any other instalment. There is no mystery, no whodunit; this is an entirely different genre as Holmes is close to nailing Moriarty so he and Watson must flee to the Continent. 

I’m no fan of the short story, so it says quite something that I very much enjoyed this episode. The wonderful visuals- particularly the location filming in what I assume must be Switzerland and the actual Reichenbach Falls- are a huge part of this, of course. So are the magnificent performances of Jeremy Brett and Eric Porter. Their initial confrontation scene in Baker Street is mesmerising.

The case in France from the short story is also expanded to concern the theft of the Mona Lisa, which adds an extra element of fun, with Holmes finding a parallel in a skilled copyist of Old Masters- and is that J.P. Morgan to whom Moriarty was about to sell the forgery? 

It’s a fitting end to the first iteration of ITV’s version of Sherlock Holmes. Fortunately, though, it will continue in other titles, with a less wooden Watson than David Burke. And, as I have access to them all, I shall go on and onto the end...

Sapphire & Steel: Assignment One- Escape Through a Crack in Time, Part 2

 "So nothing's safe."

This is the second episode, not the first, so it has a different job to do. Last episode blew me away with the gloriously weird concept of essentially doing horror with time, and using its relative nature to make it creepy. That's a genius concept.

This episode was never going to have the same effect, developing and exploring these ideas rather than introducing them. The cliffhanger gets resolved with, er, the sacrifice of a doll. The cliffhanger at the end of this one is pretty cool- Goosey Goosey Gander and cool-looking ghosts of the Roundheads the rhyme is about- but it's another version of the same concept.

Similarly, it's reinforced that old things are dangerous- Steel insists on using the oldest room in the house, and is careful not to include any old things. Meanwhile, Sapphire traps an annoying policeman in a time loop while Steel seems to do Jedi mind tricks. Their powers are cool enough to intrigue but the explanation from Sapphire for her time loop- a deliberately vague analogy- carefully limits the scope. We can't have our mysterious protagonists be over-powered.

Not much happens, plot-wise, but that's not important at this stage, where we just want to spend time exploring the concept and these two aloof, mysterious characters. I'm still hooked.

It's a Sin: Part 1

 "You haven't got a parrot, have you?"

Russell T. Davies, after a few quiet years since leaving Doctor Who (alas, said quietness for tragic personal reasons) has not only been very much back over the last few years but is arguable at the very peak of his career right now. Cucumber was perhaps underappreciated, as was Years and Years, but few deny that A Very English Scandal was sublime. If this first episode is any guide (and I'm told reviews are raving from those who've binged the whole thing on All4; I'm soing it week by week), this could be the best thing he's ever done.

RTD has always said he wanted to return to gay themes in recent years, and this series confronts the elephant in the room: AIDS, which destroyed and traumatised a generation of gay men through the cruel double whammy of a horrifying disease and the added cruelty of society. I'm sure we will see much overt homophobia in later episodes (RTD has already shown with truthfully subtle dialogue the casual racism), but just as cruel is the fact that same sex relationships must be covert, informal, unrecognised, existing only at the margins of society. 

We see this, horrifyingly, in the person of Henry, played superbly by Neil Patrick Harris. He's lived with his partner (that unsatisfactory word) Juan Pablo for thirty years, a blissfully married couple in all but name. And yet, when they both become sick with this mysterious new gay plague (and yes, this all has resonance in early 2021, with our plague being less easy to ignore for most than the plague of forty years earlier), Juan Pablo's mother takes him "home" to Portugal and they must both die without seeing each other again. Equally horrifying is the sight of Henry, alone in a ward to himself, food left at the door, with no one approaching unless wearing what we have over the past year come to refer to as full PPE.

This episode is about introducing the characters, however, although not without a little foreboding. RTD is making us like these very human, flawed, likeable individuals before putting them through the wringer. We focus on three young gay men- Richie, student turned actor; Roscoe, who has fled the worst kind of religious fundamenalism with his Nigerian family set on "curing" him; and Colin, a shy young tailor from RTD's part of the world. There's also the very lovely Jill, the heart of the Pink Palace, but this episode shos lots of joyous, hedonistic sex, silliness and young people behaving as young people should, ignorant (and in denial) of what's coming.

Worryingly, we end with our three principals expanding on their dreams for the future. Let's hope at least some of them have one.

This is utterly sublime television. RTD makes it look effortless. I already feel I know and care about these people, and am worried.

Camp at Blood Island (1958)

 "No room for shirkers!"

This film is a definite oddity- a non-horror Hammer film (this weekend's theme) made in 1958, several films into the company's horror era, directed by Val Guest and starring Andre Morell, both familiar faces from late '50s horror.

Yet it feels utterly Hammer. It's weird to see Morell not playing a maverick scientist, and the token Amercan is played not by Steve McQueen but by Luke Skywalker's Uncle Owen. There's the obligatory cut price Charles Bronson figure. The sadly late Barbara Shelley is in a very Tenko role, and she's wonderful. It's all very lurid, with staggering amounts of torture and brutal violence for its time- but this probably got hrough the censors precisely because Japanese POW camps really were as bad as this and worse.

The budget is low, the direction is no more than competent, yet Morell is a compelling lead and there's a surprisingly plot that makes this a much better watch than its reputation. The film is gripping throughout, which I wasn't expecting.

The film is, of course, incredibly racist, with the Japanese officers portrayed by made up white actors. And yet this particular racism- although nothing can exactly excuse the yellowface make-up, used in other contexts in contemporary films, and we shouldn'r excuse the various European colonial empires in the Far East or anywhere else- can perhaps not be described as prejudice. Many British people, including my Grandad Gordon, fought in Burma and elsewhere, witnessing many Japanese atrocities and refusing to buy Japanese cars for their whole lives. I'm a lover of Japan, and Japanese culture, but this generation of Japanese soldiers, treating their prisoners of war with sheer cruelty, were utterly without honour.

David Bowie- Blackstar (2016)

This haunting and mournfully reflective bunch of songs was unexpectedly given to us mere days before David Bowie died at the disappointing age of 69 in the early days of 2016, a year which would yet prove to have further unpleasant shocks in store.

It is. of course, a work of brilliance. ate period Bowie is consistently excellent, but tis is something special. It's not just the oft-quoted impression, I think, that this is the album where Bowie, artist to the end, effectively curates his own death. No; it's just a brilliantly introspective album, jazzy, the good kind of weird, that takes a good few listens to drill its tendrils into your brain and then continues drilling indefinitely.

"Lazarus" and "Blackstar" are obviously the standout tracks, but the whole death-soaked album is devoid of filler, ending, appropriately, with the pensive "I Can't Give Everything Away". The perspective of five years has, if anything, made it even clearer that this album is an extraordinary artifact, and perhaps the pinnacle of Bowie's lifelong performance through Ziggy Stardust, Thin White Duke, and finally a personal, but not cultural, oblivion.

David Bowie was a bloody genius. That is all.

The Terror of the Tongs (1961)

 "Like all occidentals, you find it impossible to accept the inevitable."

This is one of those occasional non-horror films Hammer did in their glory days, a tale of a tong rather than a vampire and something a bit different for Jimmy Sangster to write and Christopher Lee to star in.

You can see from the pic that there's an unfortunate amount of yellowface here, prominently so with Lee; it appears that, aside from Burt Kwouk (who inevitably appears), there are no Chinese actors available for speaking roles so the Chinese characters all have to be played by white actors with various degrees of yellowface. Some attempt to sound Chinese; the likes of Lee and Roger Delgado sound English as ever- or, in the case of Yvonne Monlaur, French.

It's a fairly standard revenge plot, although with surprisingly little action overall, with Geoffrey Toone suitably square-jawed as the heroic and very British Jackson Sale.

It is, of course, all told from the perspective of the colonising British, with lots of unfortunate othering of Chinese ways and Chinese culture; it's not just the yellowface that means I'm hardly not exactly going to be able to deny the casual, unthinking racism and racist tropes that permeate this film, many of which no doubt have failed to catch my attention. There's a character called Confucius, after all. But it was 1961, and the past is a foreign country. It's also interesting to see Hong Kong as a place where cultures meet, and what that means for organised crime.

Lee is decent enough- he phones in his performance somewhat, but he's good enough to get away with it. Roger Delgado is also excellent- charismatic and commanding. The plot is standard stuff but decent enough. The direction, though, is sadly flat and uninspired, with unimaginative camerawork and lighting. But the script and performances raise the film to the level of an entertaining curiosity, from a time when no one batted an eyelid at portraying cultures in this way.

Update

Seeing as I've now finished both The Crown and Life on Mars, here's a quick confirmation of what I'll be up to.

Effectively I'll be alternating three old programmes, all of them ITV dramas as it happens- Sapphire & Steel; Catweazle; and the Jeremy Brett Sherlock Holmes. I'll also occasionally be blogging stuff that Mrs Llamastrangler and I watch together, particularly The Mandalorian. Plus the usual films at weekends. And the odd episode of Black Mirror.

After that, Ashes to Ashes is certainly going to be soon. But, as ever, I'm open to suggestions.

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: Series 2- The Red Headed League

 "It is quite a three pipe problem..."

Yes, I know; it's been a while, and I stopped abruptly, but now I'm back to blogging the Jeremy Brett series of Sherlock Holmes adaptations. I stopped because of an unfortunate cock-up with Sky Plus, but now I have Britbox. I can now continue the last two episodes of Adventures, folowed by the first series of Return. There may be another pause there untl I'm able to see The Sign of Four, but that's a solid nine episodes for now.

The Red Headed League is one of the more well-known of the Conan Doyle short stories, and certainly one of the ones with which I'm most familiar. It's therefore a rather good episode to reintroduce myself to this wonderful series, drowning in redolent Victoriana, as I again experience the wonders of Jeremy Brett's performance and the nicely adapted story, complete with dialogue reflecting the actual speech patterns of Conan Doyle's characters. There's a superb case here, with Richard Wilson and Tim McInnerny standing out, while John Woodnutt is splendid as his usual vaguely arrogant authority figure. Roger Hammond also tands out in a bravely comical portrayal of Jabez Wilson.

It's an interesting choice, though, in this penultimate episode of the series, to have the whole thing be masyerminded by Moriarty, to give Brett a nice little speevh introducing him as formidable foe, and to give the superb Eric Porter a sublime cameo at the end.

Roll on The Final Problem. This programme is superb. I've missed it.

Sapphire & Steel: Assignment One- Escape Through a Crack in Time, Part 1

 "Lots of old things. Lots of old, old echoes..."

It's been years since I last saw this (and I've only ever seen the first two Assignments, but on this viewing this first episode blew me away. This is quite extraordinary and original television- atmospheroc and compelling.

Sapphire and Steel are fascinating, if alien, characters, and both Joanna Lumley and david McCallum are impressive as the aloof yet cheery Sapphire and the glum, morose Steel. yet this is not so much a drama based on character but ideas, as we're introduced to the terrifying concept of time as a corridor, with weak points in its structure through which terrible creatures can ppunce and "take" people, namely the unfortunate parents of Rob and Helen.

This is scripted, shot and played like horror- and, with a threat which is conceptual rather than gory, extremely effective as such. At times it feels Lovecraftian, especially with the mention of creatures from the beginnings and end of time. Yet, fascinaingly, this is use of the concept of time as a relative phenomenon for purposes of horror, something very post-Einsteinian.

The episode is slow-paced and leisurely, building up the atmosphere and bombarding us with brilliant concepts. It's a thing of wonder, as least for this first episode, and I shall never see nursery rhymes the same way again.

Life on Mars: Season 2, Episode 8

 "If you're strong enough to go through with this operation..."

And so it ends.On transmission, I was a little disappointed: Sam was just in a coma after all, and it seemed as though we'd been fobbed off with the obvious explanation. Watching it again, though, I'm rather impressed. This was always as much of a cop show as telefantasy; there's only so far they can push the envelop with the weirdness and funn with the fourth wall- and, as the episode literally ends with the Test Card Girl switching off our collective telly, I can't complain about any lack of weirdness.

Admittedly, the beginning is unfortunate, for reasons that would not have been forseeable in 2007; Sam hears the exposition on the radio about being operated on on 2007 from... Jimmy Savile. Ouch. Sam even says "Fix it for me, Jim." This unintentional nod to a nonce, in the actual finale, has probably done damage to the series' repeat value.

Nevertheless, this is a nicely structured finale that keeps you guessing as to what's really happening, with things shifting several times. The scene where Sam gives Morgan all his evidence about Gene in order to get "home", only to realise that he and Morgan are not talking abut the same thing and he's an undercover agent from Hyde to take down Hunt, is powerful indeed, and John Simm is extraordinary in the scenes in the graveyard.

The betrayal of all his colleagues, especially Annie, is powerful, as is the moment where all fades to white and Sam wakes up on an operating table in 2006. The world of 2006 is subtly made to look dull and grey and, while Sam's suicide by rooftop is perhaps not quite earned, the last few minutes make up for it as, presumably dying, Sam comes to accept and enjoy 1973... and kisses Annie. a surprisingly excellent and satisfying conclusion.

Catweazle: Season 1, Episode 5- The Eye of Time

) "Thou ass-eared turnspit!"

I know I've done several episodes of Catweazle in a row and seem to be procrastnating over the last ever episode of Life on Mars. Bear with me; things are a bit hectic. Catweazle is short so it's something I can just about manage to blog when time is short. Life on Mars concludes soon, then other stuff will follow.

This is a fine little episode, amusing as ever with Catweazle getting some truly splendid dialogue for the mighty Geoffrey Bayldon to deliver. Even better, the wonderful, extremely funny and actually rather sexy Hattie Jacques is in this in a nice little role as a fortune teller in cahoots with the local betting shop. Catweazle has her number in a wonderful scene in which the two of them get to spar magnificently. It's a real treat to get a guest star of this calibre. In theory, with Catweazle being able to predict every horse race, he and Carrot can become millionaires and lead a life of luxury- but dad says no, and that's that. And Catweazle, for some reason, still wants to return to his extremely unpleasant time.

Yet again it's fascinating, fifty years on (this was filmed in late 1969) to see a Britain in which bets are "five bob" each way and a fortune telling is "seven and six".

The Blood Beast Terror (1968)

 "They'll never believe this at the Yard!"

There were many non-Hammer, non-Amicus little horror films starring Peter Cushing in the late '60s, essentially because he needed the money to go private with the pressng mecical needs of his very ill wife, who was unfortunately to die a couple of years later. This is a fairly anonymous example and, objectively, you can't exactly say it's particularly good. But you can't help but enjoy it.

The plot is a mess, of course. It's not entirely clear why the professor's daughter ends up as a man-eating moth, why he so suddenly turns against her or, indeed, whether he's a professor or a doctor. Also, the moth costume is rubbish, but Vernon Sewell at least has the sense to only show it in glimpses.

Yet the Victorian sets are glorious- including a wonderful chemistry set. There's a play within the film, loosely based on Frankenstein, which lasts for quite a while and is gloriously bonkers. Peter Cushing, although clearly phoning it in, is incapable of being less than excellent. We have Kevin Stoney as a sinister butler, and a couple of splendid comic cameos from a shockingly young Roy Hudd as a cheerful morgue attendant..

And Victorian tropes and references abound. Cushing's daughter has her blood sucked and is mesmerised to remain under the baddies' control- all very Dracula. There's a colonial scene featuring a pith helmet. The police are splendidly Victorian, and the sergeant has a truly magnificent moustache. This may be a very silly film, and not intentionally so, but it's eminently watchable and rather good fun.

Asylum (1972)

"Never turn your back on a patient..."

I've seen a far few Amicus portmanteau horrors by now; I know the score: three or so flashback segments, each a suitably camp little horror story before the framing sequence becomes a story in its own right, with a twist at the end.

This film fits the template exactly and, while there are better examples among the other Amicus anthologies I've seen, this film doesn't disappoint in following the template to perfection while giving us some enjoyably camp body horror and some gleefully insentitive attitudes to mental heath, the camera lingering early on over some lurid old James Gilray cartoons set in a Georgian asylum.

The first sequence, starring a delightfully gruff Richard Todd, is splendidly bonkers, with body parts wrapped up in parcels attacking an adulterous couple in order to exact revenge. The whole concept starts out serious and sinister but soon dissolves superbly into farce in the best way possible.

The second story is a bizarre tale involving a tailor, Jewish stereotypes, and a great deal of fairytale logic. This one is genuinely creepy and arguably the best tale of the lot, with the dark fairytale quality and the presence of Peter Cushing elevating it somewhat, although it is of course as camp as a row of tents.

The third sequence, with Britt Ekland and Charlotte Rampling, perhaps drags a little and is slightly lacking in camp, although Rampling's evil laugh is a thing of magnificence. But the fourth sequence, with its little murdering doll, is just pure weirdness, but you have to admire the decision to actually proceed with something so stark raving bonkers. This is where the framing sequence comes into its own, with a strong performance from Robert Powell and a superb one from Geoffrey Bayldon.

Not every sequence is brilliant. But the whole film is enormous fun throughout.
 

Catweazle: Season 1, Episode 4- The Witching Hour

 "I say, they boy's hair needs a jolly old cut!"

I'm not saying this is the greatest television programme ever or anything- it's a kids' show from the Light Channel- but I thoroughly enjoyed this episode. On the surface it's a fun little farce based on a bit of misdirection- Carrot thinks his dad is going to marry the rich Miss Bonington to save the farm, but actually she's just an influential councillor whom George (his dad has a name!) needs planning permission and not, in fact, a "shrew".

It's fun, it's splendid stuff, but there are all sorts of questions. Is the farm in financial trouble? Is Carrot's family (what happened to his mum?) landed gentry who are now falling on hard times? Why, for that matter, is Catweazle (still with Rapkyn's spellbook) want to travel back to his own unpleasant time, full of nasty racist Normans, rather than stay in 1970 where nobody wants to kill him? I approve of Catweazle's view of hairdressers as "monstrous", though. Hair is, indeed, magic. Mrs Llamastrangler gives me a very slight trim every six months, whether I need it or not. That's enough for anyone.

But, as ever, much of the attraction is gawking at domestic life in 1970. The HP Sauce bottle. The cars. The fashions in the hairdressers. The glimpse of the high street, including a Spar. This programme may not be the deepest stuff ever, but it's such fun.

Catweazle: Season 1, Episode 3- The Curse of Rapkyn

  "'Tis all here, Touchwood. Here lies our way back!"

Another fun little episode here as Catweaze discovers a curse on the farm, helps Carrot get rid of it while getting into a series of scrapes while ending up with a spellbook at the end.

There's more slapstick humour, which works well and showcases Geoffrey Bayldon's comic talent as, among other things, he chases Touchwood around the museum as a bunch of schoolgirls- and their teachers- scream at the toad. There's also a highly enjoyable guest spot from a pre-Last of the Summer Wine Peter Salls who, this time, leaves the Yorkshire vowels to Catweazle.

It's also amusing, half a century later, to see £800 referred to as a massive amount of money, and reassuring that no one seems remotely bothered by the references to Beelzebub and Lucifer, amongst various pagan entities. You certainly wouldn't get away with that on kids' TV today.

It's easy viewing, yes- it's old kids' TV- but I'm enjoying this.

The Crown: Season 4, Episode 10- War

 "There is no dignity in the wilderness..."

And so the season ends, with two parallel plots- the downfall of Thatcher and the collapsing marriage, that cannot be allowed to fail, of Charles and Di. There is, I suppose, a kind of thematic link that we're encouraged to find, in that both Thatcher and Diana find themselves manipulated by men in grey suits- but the script's attempt to find a parallel seems tenuous and awkward.

So the events of Thatcher's downfall pretty much echo the well-known events of reality, with highlights of Sir Geoffrey Howe's resignation speech word for word (he, a senior Tory, expresses deep regret at the deep damage done to the national interest by fatuous loose-lipped Europhobes- imagine!) and Thatcher foolishly meeting her Cabinet one by one rather than the probably safer option of doing so in a group. But the scenes between Thatcher and the Queen resonate, as the Queen wisely refuses a dissolution of Parliament and as she awards the greengrocer's daughter the Order of Merit while trying desperately to find common ground.

The scenes between Charles- shown here as a total dick- and Diana- shown here as lovely, hugging a young lad with AIDS in an act which helps dissolve stigmas and make the world a better place- don't actually add much. We know the Royal Family wants them trapped in that marriage and sod their happiness if they want to "let the side down". We know also that their unhappiness is in a context of extreme privilege, albeit a privilege entirely without freedom. What's a little newer is Camilla's understanding that she and Charles cannot be together without her being humilated and cast as the villain.

I suspect this season has been just as good as its predecessors, and certainly so more prone to fictionalise history whatever certain commentators may say, but this Charles and Di stuff I find tiresome subject matter, bordering on the tabloidy- and we're getting well into living memory for me. I'm not finding The Crown in the 80s and 90s as fascinating as the 50s and 60s. I may or not watch and blog the next season. We shall see.

Life on Mars: Season 2, Episode 7

 "I appear to have killed a man..."

The penultimate episode; we're close to the end, and it's interesting to see where they're going. The character of Frank Morgan- Gene's hopefully temporary replacement from "Hyde" with a name evoking The Wizard of Oz- is initially suspicious in his apparent desire to ruin hunt, but in the end he privately holds out to Sam the hope of getting "home". Ooh.

But all that metatextual telefantasy stuff is for the finale; this penultimate episode again focuses on a plotline that can only be done once: Gene Hunt being a suspect for murder. And it's very well done indeed, both as a whodunit and as an exploration of the bond between Sam and Gene. As Gene says, "Just be the picky pain in the arse you normally are and I should be fine." It's good to see the effects on Ray and Chris of the Guv being a suspect, but the whole will-they-won't-they romance between Sam and Annie has been strung along with so little consistency from episode to episode that their almost-kiss means very little.

It's all very clever, plot-wise, with twist and turns to keep you guessing, and a satisfying conclusion. There's surprisingly little of the usual '70s versus '00s culture clash stuff, but I suppose the premise doesn't really lend itself to that. Still, as we approach the end, I'm still of the view that Life on Mars succeeds more because of the great premise, the production and the performances, and that the scripts- while frequently good whodunits- are not really first rate stuff. But let's see how it all ends...

The Card (1952)

 "Oh, indeed. I thought you were a gentleman."

Ealing comedies are always fun to watch, lightly amusing and very well-acted and made, but they're also deceptively clever beneath the surface and have something to say, and this is no exception.

I've never read the original novel by Arnold Bennett, or indeed anything by him; I'm afraid this is essentially because he's been unfashionable ever since Virginia Woolf slagged him off. However, the script here is quite wonderful, a nice little light-hearted film of an unscrupulous yet somehow charming man who uses sneakiness and trickery to get on in life, but remains likeable enough for us to root for the loveable rogue, a difficult balancing act. Alec Guinness seems born to play the part, and his performance is triumphant- charismatic, broad and nuanced all at once, in a part where he not only stars but literally carries the whole film. 

Glynis Johns is also utterly magnificent and has perfect comic timing as a cheekily seductive femme fatale, and it's fun to see a minor role for Joan Hickson, many years before Miss Marple, still looking somewhat old.

This is a wonderful comedy of class, gentle greed and Edwardian social mores, but rings true today with its depiction of the sort of person who tends to end up rich and land on their feet. It's all very cleverly plotted and charms the viewer with the machinations of its loveable rogue. Not, perhaps, quite up there with the the best Ealing comedies, but a wonderfully fun way to spend ninety minutes.