Steve Goble

Shrek The Third

2011-07-23T23:59:00.000-07:00

On 6th June 2007 I happened to be at the New Zealand premiere of this movie, but only because I was going into the next screen to see Hot Fuzz.

Still, the hubbub in the Newmarket foyer outside made me almost sorry that I was not a part of the Shrek fan club. It’s hard to forget the sight of a giant Shrek making his way through the crowds of excited fans.

As with earlier instalments, Shrek the Third is not so much about the story as the gags. The King is dying, and speaks of an heir whom Shrek, ~~Sid~~ ~~Marty~~ Donkey and Puss In Boots must go on a short quest to find. Along the way, all manner of insanity invades events, which is a good thing too given the constant threat of babies. (babies cripple comedies)

As expected, my viewing of this film did suffer from the previous chapter’s revoicing of some characters for the UK. When Doris (voiced by Larry King) showed up, I just wasn’t sure if this was the same character as in the previous film, simply because she wasn’t voiced by Jonathan Ross. It later turned out that despite being PAL, the New Zealand DVD contains the US version of the film, not that there’s any way to tell from the box before buying. Perhaps there was a foreign English language option that I missed?

Queen Lillian: ”What? You didn't think you inherited your fighting skills from your father?”

Not so crazy. We’re still waiting to hear who Fiona inherited her American accent from…

Also, one of the DVD extras features Merlin, but not voiced by the film’s Eric Idle. That’s Monty Python’s Eric Idle, who sadly gets no dialogue with John Cleese. Despite a fantastic cast, the actual casting is disappointingly miscalculated.

Still, as I said above, the non-stop gags smooth over everything.

Donkey: "Look out! They got a piano!"

Merlin: "Sorry, kid, I don't do that stuff anymore. How about a hug? That's the best kind of magic there is!"

Prince Charming: "You! You can't lie! So tell me puppet... where... is... Shrek?"
Pinocchio: "Uh. Hmm, well, uh, I don't know where he's not."
Prince Charming: "You're telling me you don't know where Shrek is?"
Pinocchio: "It wouldn't be inaccurate to assume that I couldn't exactly not say that it is or isn't almost partially incorrect."
Prince Charming: "So you do know where he is!"
Pinocchio: "On the contrary. I'm possibly more or less not definitely rejecting the idea that in no way with any amount of uncertainty that I undeniably do or do not know where he shouldn't probably be, if that indeed wasn't where he isn't. Even if he wasn't at where I knew he was. That'd mean I'd really have to know where he wasn't."

My favourite laugh though would have to be the gingerbread man seeing his life flashing before him. That little biscuit’s led such a full life!

(with thanks to Brett and Kristen)

(some version or other of it (good luck figuring out which) available here)

Doctor Who: Music Of The Spheres

2011-07-18T03:00:00.000-07:00

AKA Tempo Fugitive. ;)

In the TARDIS, the lone tenth Doctor (David Tennant) is scribbling away composing a symphony, when a Graske drops in and hijacks a space portal to invade the Royal Albert Hall during the Prom.

When it comes to the canonicity of these miscellaneous sketches, I guess everyone draws the line in a different place.

In favour of this one's inclusion is that it features the official Doctor Who credits on the start, comes from the production team of the day, and isn't actually impossible within the universe(s) of the series.

Standing against it is that it's an insert in another programme, is quite short, and is just too silly. The audience at the Royal Albert Hall take the interruption to their show (presumably not a Doctor Who-themed one) so obligingly.

Me - I'm just on the side of waving it through, but mainly because the tenth Doctor's era was often written in such a throwaway manner anyway.

After so much high-profile activity recently, the Doctor and the surviving population of Earth really ought to be on speaking terms by now, as evidenced by not just the audience's recognition of him, but all the kids with Police Box and sonic screwdriver toys. The astronomical coincidence required for the wormhole to appear in those two places and times - while the Doctor is composing, and a performance is in progress - are par for the course at this point too.

I'd discount anything before or after these minutes in the actual evening, not least because they feature a Cyberman and Freema Agyeman, although they might just both be more of Martha's identical twin cousins.

Not sure what to do about the live shots of the Doctor through the portal that aren't from the portal's perspective though, other than maybe try to re-edit this. And the orchestra is out of sync… oh all right I'll stop.

If nothing else, seeing the tenth Doctor one more time is always going to be a delight, although I admit that this is the only occasion on which I've ever found him annoying. Perhaps because there is so little else going on to dilute him.

After all, a mini-episode specifically about music requires the rest of the soundtrack to be contrastingly empty of it. (the actual music of the spheres here is more of an atmosphere) Therefore for this one episode only, we can actually hear what's being said. The opening moments have such clarity to them that, on headphones at least, it really makes you feel as though you're inside the TARDIS. So that's what the new TARDIS interior sounds like - I've never heard it before. If only they would learn to mix the regular episodes this way again.

Ironic then that the Doctor's beautiful closing monologue about how great music is, should be so at odds with what makes this mini-episode stand out well.

The Doctor: "Music isn't just orchestras and pop stars and special people with albums and downloads and concerts - it's you. 'Cause the music of the spheres… is all around you. When you're on your own, just close your eyes, and you'll hear it. Music. Inside your head. 'Cause everyone's a musician. Everyone's got a song inside them. Every single one of you. Bye."

Doctor Who - season 7 review

2011-07-18T02:30:00.000-07:00

If I were drawing a venn diagram of Doctor Who seasons and their strengths, I might create a set labelled "serious tone". I might also have another set labelled "great casting". Maybe another "well-written scripts", and still another "captivating direction".

Wherever they all overlapped, would be where I would place season seven.

It's a series like no other. Actually I'm wrong, there are other series that are like it, but none that quite recapture its achievements.

It was the series when they relaunched the show with a fresh cast, fresh concept, and even fresh colour-scheme. The following series it would lose some of these elements, gain some new ones, and begin to reclaim some of its earlier premise, but this year had a vision for the series all of its own, and it stuck to it.

Following Patrick Troughton's departure, its sense of humour was turned right down too, resulting in a run of stories which assumed that you were as intelligent as the characters.

Everything is set on Earth. Arguably only two episodes (out of 26) feature an alien monster. Stories 2-4 all revolve around the need for a bigger, more respectful worldview. (or universeview) This metaphor for real-world globalisation is a strong one, yet subtle enough not to get spelt-out.

How would you negotiate peace between different species? Or work around an actual government conspiracy? Or convince strangers both that they are about to die, and also that they should help you to escape alone? Well, these guys are trying to figure it out on the hoof too.

Special mention has to go to Caroline John as Liz Shaw. She joined at the start of this series, and left at the end of it, effectively sealing her place in Doctor Who history as one of the better-written companions. She definitely wasn't that much of a protagonist, but she was treated by the writers with much more respect than her air-headed successor Jo Grant who, um, well, didn't prove quite so able to help.

As everyone who's not a TV executive knows, retooling a successful series is always a disaster, however this season would be the exception that disproves that rule. It's even better than the last series! Maybe they should never have brought back the TARDIS.

Best. Doctor Who season. Everrr!

(in your extra terrestrial face, season six!)

Spearhead From Space
Doctor Who And The Silurians
The Ambassadors Of Death
Inferno

Doctor Who: Inferno

2011-07-18T02:00:00.000-07:00

I enjoyed a review of another Pertwee Doctor Who adventure on YouTube a while back, which spent the ten minutes quoting production trivia and saying how great everything was.

Now I have no argument with that. Cheap and cheerful shows inevitably attract those of us who are interested in the film making process, and if the viewer actually enjoyed watching the story also, well then so much the better.

But you know what? I was a bit irritated that the guy had nothing to push back with. Surely, I thought, he should really be balancing all this praise with some, or even any, criticism?

When writing my own reviews, I've observed that I tend to have plenty of opinions about the negative aspects of a particular story, but very little to say about the good. Because, y'know, good is the way that everything is really supposed to be. Good is even the goal which the programme-makers themselves were aiming for, in all areas. When something is good, it robs me of the opportunity to suggest what I think might have been a better alternative, and I wind up with nothing to say. And what's the point of a review that has nothing to say?

Therefore, I worry that all my reviews tend to err on the side of sounding negative.

When I watch a story as excellent as Inferno, it leaves me quite literally lost for words. Let me have a quick go anyway.

It looks very bleak, which perfectly conveys the tone of the entire story. The whole seven parts feature the Doctor constantly losing ground. Even his saving Earth in the finale is at a terrible overall cost. The overcast film location work segues well into the videotaped studio scenes, which feel every bit as oppressive, and isolated.

Special mention must go to the sound on this story, which likewise never lets up the tension. There is GREAT atmos at the drilling site, which has the whole cast shouting their lines over it right through to the final episode.

I was watching the VHS release, which seamlessly includes episode five's deleted scene of Jon Pertwee's dual role as the radio announcer - another bleak moment which I find it hard to imagine the episode's original transmission without.

The story's look and sound are obviously down to the directors, Douglas Camfield and Barry Letts. When the first episode jump-cuts from a victim about to be struck, to a hammer banging a nail, we know we're watching something of quality.

Even the script pulls no punches, uncompromisingly confronting us with a Doctor who abandons the whole of an alternate planet Earth to die, whilst still appealing to its doomed inhabitants for help to save his own one.

It's not just the plot though - there's also the well-defined and well-played characters, not to mention their gem-laden dialogue.

“The safety margins are for cautious old women like Sir Keith.”

“We have no proof of an emergency situation.”

“An infinity of universes. Ergo an infinite number of choices. So free will is not an illusion after all. The pattern can be changed.”

That last line brings me onto the meagre push-backs that I can come up with. To me, an infinity of universes in which every choice is played out suggests no free will for their inhabitants, who must follow whichever alternate choice their universe is there to accommodate. Granted though, we could probably argue about this forever, but only if we were in the right universe for it.

With all the political, hierarchical and ecological challenges for our heroes to wrestle with and overcome, the inclusion of a set of green zombies seems an unnecessary embellishment, and I admit that both times I have watched this, I have not quite processed what was going on there.

There are a couple of weak effects that stand out, but only really because the rest of this epic sucked me in so effectively.

These were the film effects of the TARDIS console in episode one, which jar with the surrounding VT shots, and in the case of the Doctor's sudden materialisation was surely unnecessary. The other was the cliffhanging final shot of episode six, but even that couldn't overcome the intensity and sheer exhaustion of the preceding 24 minutes.

My only real criticisms would be the usual ones about parallel universe yarns - that there's no acknowledgement of the principle character's double, nor the realisation that in such a divergent history there really ought to be different people in these roles, but meh. Given an infinite number of universes, any scenario can play out, no matter how unlikely.

The whole thing finishes unthinkably - with the cast laughing at a joke that is actually funny! Now I ask you - in this genre, how often is that successfully achieved? It's a comfort when you bear in mind that this sadly turned out to be Liz's final scene, unless you count… come to think of it the list of her return appearances is longer than I thought.

For me, the bottom line is that it doesn't get any better than Inferno. Except for all the other greatest Doctor Who stories ever.

Somewhere out there sits another me in a universe where every Doctor Who story was this fine. He doesn't blog at all.

Except maybe on YouTube.

July To The World!

2011-07-17T23:59:00.000-07:00

18 years ago, in the UK, I presented a jokey Chrstmas Day radio show entitled The Christmas Day Summer Special. We had people doing lots of summery outdoor things, apparently oblivious to the bitterness of winter. That was the joke.

Years later I moved to the southern hemisphere and cribbed clips of this for use on my radio demo tape, chuckling to myself that, in a climate where Christmas was reliably hot, it might sound genuine.

Last weekend however, New Zealand played the same joke right back at me.

Local joy-filled dessert shop - Quirk Dessert - were running what they called a 'Midwinter Christmas' promotion, despite it being darkest July. After all, everyone here knows that Christmas is never cold. Confused yet?

Well, you'll never guess what Quirk's owner (and friend from church) Maree had Random Dave and myself doing all Saturday morning…

Never enter this place and tell them that you feel like a pudding.

For a whole hour - dressed as Christmas puddings - Dave and I marched up and down Picton Street, spying punters who looked like potential customers, and offering our leaflets to them. In I think every instance we were greeted with smiles!

"We are Christmas puddings, and we are available to be eaten at Quirk Dessert on the corner of Wellington Street - happy Christmas!!!"

When we had exhausted the flyers, we spent the next hour standing outside the front doing whatever we could think of to attract even more attention to ourselves. Dancing, fighting, playing tennis… we did some of our best material out there. Drivers honked us, the cops kept their distance, and only one person called us freaks, but that was only the local pastor, no doubt appalled at Howick's spiralling respect for the actual religious festival. Christmas is hardly about joy, dammit.

Presently, it was time to return inside from the unChristmassy cold, change back into our civvies, and seriously reduce our waistlines. (ironic in a café that only sells desserts) I think employee Dave had some actual serving to do (I was just a volunteer), so I wished him and Maree well, and headed out to the newly renamed Countdown to get in some shopping of my own.

Along the way, I noticed that something had changed. The people who I was passing in the street. Nothing was wrong exactly, but something was missing from their countenances.

As I approached, none of them were breaking into a smile any more.

:(

Numbers 20: 1-13 (NIV)

2011-07-17T19:00:00.000-07:00

Reading at cession church in Auckland tonight, part of our series The Amazing Race.

With thanks to Daniel.

Rest of the service here.

Taranaki, You Are Da Bomb

2011-07-16T04:00:00.000-07:00

Does anyone else think that Egmont National Park looks like a giant cartoon bomb, complete with burning fuse?

Get Smart (2008)

2011-07-10T23:59:00.000-07:00

In almost every instance I think remakes are a bad idea, but even I will concede that there comes a point when I can at least understand why they do them.

After all, Don Adams has hardly been available to continue playing Maxwell Smart since his sad passing in 2005.

If it were up to me, I'd call time on the character and leave the canon to spin-offs and prequels, if that, but in Hollywood, money is understandably a higher priority than creative integrity.

So, ignoring everything that has gone before, and certainly any original premises that might otherwise have got filmed instead, we wipe everything out and start all over again back at the beginning, exchanging 60 hours of comedy for just a few.

On the one hand, this footnote in the history of Get Smart is as inept as its title character. The original 30-year canon, as far as I am aware, was family entertainment. Here it gets positively bawdy in places.

99: "I'm just a woman with a dusty old uterus."

Admittedly The Nude Bomb may have seemed similarly extreme in its day.

However ignoring that as aspect of its tone, this reboot pays tribute to its predecessor so well that I have to wonder why they didn't just make this a continuation of the original history. Steve Carell doesn't so much bring a fresh interpretation to the role of Max, as do an excellent job of building upon Don Adams' version.

And all the old running jokes are here to be enjoyed again too - the shoe phone, the cone of silence, and "Would you believe…?", not to mention of course the whole walking down the corridor through all the closing doors thing.

In fact, overall I found this movie to be great fun. Those who remember the original though - ie. those to whom the title unavoidably aims this film - may well hate it.

So why not just start something completely new instead? It's arguably a little more respectful to the series than pointing at 99's uterus.

(available here.)
(with thanks to Flatmate Dave)

The Amazing Race: Entry Into The Wilderness

2011-07-10T19:00:00.000-07:00

Sketch at church tonight, inspired by Numbers 14. Team-members: Jon, Brett, Caleb, DaNae and Rob.

Rest of the service here.

Jaded

2011-07-09T23:59:00.001-07:00

Electronic Catch Phrase

2011-07-08T23:59:00.000-07:00

Fig. 1: Taken in such a hurry that we forgot to include the actual game.

Another games night, this time back at its traditional home at Chris and Kylie's. (last time I was here was when I learnt Rummikub)

Catch Phrase, aka Electronic Catch Phrase, is pretty much what I call charades in electronic form. A machine tells you the phrase that you have to mime, or at least verbally allude to, and you do the rest. There are headings which you can choose from too.

Inevitably Random Dave and I seemed to have a bit of telepathy going on once we'd hit upon the idea of describing things in TV terms, eg. "Babylon 5 had a lot of aliens on it who were…" (ambassadors, as I recall)

My favourite instance of this though would have to be when I successfully conveyed the phrase 'martial law', by simply declaring "This town! Is now! Under…"

Don't panic.

The Politician's Guide To Dirty Tricks

2011-07-03T23:59:00.000-07:00

Sketch wot I wrote at cession church in Auckland tonight. With thanks to Nigel.

Did-dee, did-dee, diddley-dee, powww

2011-07-01T23:59:00.000-07:00

The Shy's Love Languages

2011-06-29T23:59:00.000-07:00

By the grace of God, somehow, a few years ago I came to peace with my singleness.

I really don't know how it happened. Perhaps after a lifetime of no's and other closed signals, maybe somewhere inside of myself I finally just gave up trying.

I also believe that if life gives you lemons, then you should really be using them to make the best lemonade that you can.

It's funny, but although being in a relationship is generally considered to be more desirable than singleness, I hardly ever hear anyone, single or otherwise, explaining that comparison.

For example, almost every film now features at some point two characters very happily indeed becoming a couple. How many movies can you name in which a character very happily indeed becomes single? In fact, surely that would make for more original and better defined characters?

Likewise I often hear of people saying how much hard work it takes to successfully have a relationship, but I never hear anyone say how much hard work it takes to successfully be single.

I mean there's the obvious emotional stamina you have to develop. There's no-one to regularly talk to at length, no-one on hand to comfort you, and no-one to foster a sense of self-worth. Friends can do a bit of those things, but not daily. Heck, if you just need someone to hold your hand, there's no-one who you can even ask, especially if you're a guy. You're on your own, buddy.

Not to mention all the other feelings that have to go unexpressed. There's no point in writing poetry that no-one will read.

Then there are the practicalities. Couples will share household tasks, but a single has to be able to do it all. Cooking, laundry, trash, gardening, shopping, finances, negotiating with the neighbours, whatever.

And as you know, it's more expensive to be single. To have a conversation you need to pick up the telephone or travel somewhere, which requires the maintaining of a social life. And there's no going halves on the line rental, or sharing a car to save petrol. In fact in this respect, I admit that consumerism is well and truly stacked against you.

When going on holiday, a couple will effectively pay for half of a double-room each, while the single pays an additional 'single room supplement'. Couples can take-out cheaper joint insurance schemes, but not so the single. This pattern is repeated right down to the humble loaf of bread, which can be economically purchased large by the sharing couple to save money, but not by the single for whom it would go mouldy before reaching the end, so we have to buy the more expensive small one.

What's that? Children? Yes, that's right, a child is insanely expensive to bring up for the single too. Crikey, just think of their childcare fees…

However, kept quiet are all the positive things about being single. (they're kept quiet because we have no-one to tell) The best relationship in the world still subtracts time from other endeavours - time which the single still has. Freedom too - for example I could hardly live my dual-life between England and New Zealand with a long-suffering significant other in tow, unless she took a big cut to her freedom for me.

And then there are the more trivial daily things. If you live alone, then when you run out of milk, there is absolutely no responsibility whatsoever to go out to buy another carton if you don't feel like it. Nor to make the bed. You can even build that scale replica of Knight Rider out of garbage and keep it in your room, just because you feel like it.

Slowly, over a few years, I have perceived my acceptance of my relationship status as a single eclipsing 50% and building to, at time of writing, about 85%. 15% of me is still bothered about it, but not that much anymore.

In 2009 I realised that I could no longer imagine any girl being great enough that singleness would be worth giving up for her. Well of course I couldn't. The girls in my imagination are all based upon the ones in real life, who have all unanimously declined. Even the one girl who did say yes, later denied everything. I literally can no longer believe that a girl can like me in that way - I would have to deny overwhelming first-hand experience.

Five weeks ago some friends were running a six-part weekly course based around Gary Chapman's famous Five Love Languages franchise. It wasn't just about romantic love, but love for one's friends, neighbours, colleagues etc. too. It didn't seem that relevant to where I was in life, but avoiding it didn't seem right either. So, following my principle of doing something rather than nothing, along I went to hopefully learn something, and to pay my $20 course fee. (and yes, the couples enjoyed their usual discount - good for them :) )

Each evening consisted of a video presentation, followed by some sort of activity. In case you haven't come across it, Chapman's famous five love languages are:

A. Words of affirmation
B. Quality time
C. Receiving gifts
D. Acts of service
E. Physical touch

Obviously there are more than that (eg. laughter, singing, being prayed for), and obviously you can write your own successful book about the ones that you come up with, but Chapman's strategy is based around which one of the above five scores highest for you.

So on week one this consisted of a 30-question worksheet, featuring pairs of statements which we had to express a preference between, in order to isolate which love language of the five each of us tended to prefer. For example, the statements included:

I love hearing my spouse tell me he/she believes in me. (A - Words of affirmation)
I love that my spouse shows real interest in things I like to do. (B - Quality time)
I know my spouse loves me because he/she surprises me with gifts. (C - Receiving gifts)
My spouse sometimes runs errands for me, and I appreciate that. (D - Acts of service)
I can't help but touch my spouse when he/she is close by. (E - Physical touch)

I looked down the sheets. Those of us who were single were told to replace the word 'spouse' with 'important person', but that didn't help me. My problem was that I had no experience of anyone - spouse or 'important person' - doing these things for me. I went all the way through the thirty questions, but just could not answer them. I simply didn't know how things like kissing, being told I love you, being told I look good etc. felt, so I could hardly discern any preference between them.

I looked around at the other singles, younger than me, busily beavering away at their sheets. Of course they were. They knew the answers.

Lest I might sound full of self-pity, I tried not to say anything about the ink I had saved, but it just wasn't possible, no matter how evasive I was. Curse my principles of telling the truth.

Girl: "So Steve, what love language are you?"
Me: "I don't know."
Girl: "Well didn't you do the questionnaire?"
Me: "No."
Girl: "Why not?"
Me: "I didn't know what any of the answers were."
Girl: "What do you mean you didn't know what any of the answers were? You just put down whichever one you prefer."
Me: "I don't know which I prefer. I have never had any experiences with which to know which I prefer."

And then, without meaning any ill, she said it.

Girl: "How can you not have had any experiences? I'm 20 - I've had loads of experiences!"
Me: "Have you tried this cake? It's awesome. I'm going to get another piece."

And there it was. I was twice her age, but she had already had a kid and was engaged to be married for the second time.

And at that moment, my old darkness began to rake up.

The bitter darkness. The darkness from which used to emerge the world's mistaken assumptions that I was not good enough. The darkness that used to make me feel like I was God's mistake.

I wasn't feeling like that yet, but I recognised the outskirts. Obviously I said nothing. I made my excuses, left, and sat around in the rain outside Countdown supermarket with a milkshake to cheer myself up.

It had been years since the last time I had felt this way. I didn't like feeling this way again.

After much deliberation, I eventually decided to continue with week 2 of the course, but on the proviso that I could quit at any time. I think I really did it so as to not discourage the teacher by leaving. Maybe it would get better. Maybe it did, but I got worse.

The sharing on the subsequent weeks increasingly made me feel like I was the problem classmember. Whatever the question, I felt like I was always giving a miserable answer. Well, I know what I always think of that kid, and hence what to be afraid of everyone else thinking of me.

One Sunday in the middle at church, a similarly-themed series of services began entitled The Politically Incorrect Guide To Relationships. There we jokingly showed a clip of a teaching film from maybe 50 years ago, in which a young teenager prepares to ask a girl out for the first time. Well, he's nervous, afraid of what the girl will think of him. I identified with that kid, which turned out to be a mistake when everyone started laughing at him. That hurt quite badly.

So badly that the pastor actually rang me at work the next day because he'd noticed that I wasn't myself. I explained that the theme was raking up a lot of old stuff within me, and that I wanted very much to talk to someone about it, but had no-one in my life with whom I could. Now that's singleness.

That's why this is on my blog. If I don't share this story here, then no-one will ever hear it.

Tonight I made it to the end of the course. Maybe I should never even have started it. Although billed as being as much about loving your friends as that special someone, the inescapable truth is that it has been heavily romance-centred.

I'm usually quite happy about being single these days, enthusiastic even. Being single frees you of much responsibility, opens up your choices, and enables you to get on with whatever. I know it's a cliché, but if you use what it offers, then it actually does become a very precious gift. I recoil from the idea of someone expecting me to give it up for them.

But I guess my loneliness is perhaps not so much gone, as simply dormant. Fallen into disuse, after all I rarely dwell on it.

When I do, I guess I ask the question why. Why did all those old friends - without knowing each other - each feel that I was not worth finding out more about? They can't all be wrong, so I have to conclude that there is something wrong with me.

I suppose that might be easier to accept, if one person had once felt that there was something right about me.

And if I didn't sometimes meet a girl with a look of hopelessness in her eyes that I think I recognise, and want so much to comfort.

It's The Final Foodtown

2011-06-25T23:59:00.000-07:00

Absolute Radio Advert

2011-06-24T23:59:00.001-07:00

Recorded another quick advert today.

Hear it here.

Boy (2010 movie)

2011-06-21T23:59:00.000-07:00

Me tonight: "The girls have decided that I am about to watch a film with them called Boy. It's going to be a long evening."

Boy is actually, or perhaps apparently, the name of the title character.

He's an 11-year-old, uh, boy, discovering who his idolised dad actually is. Or perhaps apparently is.

OK I'll stop mincing words, and indeed sentences: I spent all of this unsure whether the boy's name actually was Boy, and indeed whether or not his old man was going to turn out to be his real dad, or an imposter. I mean he seems quite untrustworthy right from his arrival, so he therefore seemed to be lying about his identity to get unchallenged access to the land.

It didn't really matter though, as I confess that I didn't follow the plot much anyway. The atmosphere throughout this was enough to make me relax and enjoy the ride, and here again I'm catching myself on yet another word. This isn't a ride, or even a journey. It's more just transportation, which through the world of a kid in New Zealand in 1984 is all you need, if you're interested in such surroundings.

It's not often that I recognise a director by their style, but midway through this I suddenly wondered if it had come from the same mind as Eagle vs. Shark, specifically at the appearance of an animated sequence. It was, and of the two, I guess this is the one that I prefer.

Great atmosphere, funny people, and something of trip back to childhood, even though I never grew up in New Zealand.

A weak title though. I would never have sat down to watch this had it not been chosen for me by girls.

(with thanks to Sara and Katie)

Pirates Of The Caribbean: On Stranger Tides

2011-06-20T23:59:00.000-07:00

Tonight Daniel and I donned our eyepatches to go see Pirates Of The Caribbean 4, but then had to quickly remove them when we realised it was in 3D.

(2D is just a patch on 3D)

Alas, our four friends who I had seen the last two Pirates films with had not been available to join us for this fourth episode. Something to do with having kids now, I gather. Well, I can't argue with that, for a couple of reasons:

1. This is a bit violent for young kids.

2. Several of the earlier cast declined to come along for this one too.

The central anti-hero Captain Jack Sparrow did though, and appears to have been taking lessons from the same tutor as Zorro.

For in this, the lovable drunk leaps around with the ability of someone at the peak of gymnastic fitness. Perhaps he was always this light-footed and I've simply forgotten, but I'd prefer to suppose that he's been attending some classes in contrology.

Anyway I thought this was the best of the four movies so far, but this might partly be because I'm prejudiced. Early on there are some scenes set at Hampton Court Palace, where my dad used to work. Well of course I enjoyed sitting in a cinema watching that in 3D. Were those rooms sets, or was I actually looking into my dad's old workplace again? Maybe I should have paid more attention when I was younger.

The exposition here is done very well too. The story sprawls a bit, but the writers know it and take care to pause and let the characters run through what they're doing and why a second time. Sincerely, thanks for that.

There's also a missionary, who continues the series' attitude of endowing the traditionally weaker characters with intelligence and integrity. His love story with the mermaid worked quite well I thought, made easier by how innocently the mermaids are realised. In such a fantastical world, they managed to make those two fairly believable.

Unlike the last two movies, this entry is very much a stand alone episode. I obviously don't know what any future instalments contain, but this holds little connection to the previous three, and develops Captain Jack's character not a jot. Sure, he gets to talk a bit again, and we find out a little bit more about his past, but he doesn't really change in this.

As if we would want him to.

Ticket To Ride

2011-06-18T23:59:00.000-07:00

Ticket To Ride is one of those board games that looks deceptively simple.

I mean all you have to do is build train lines from station to station across the US. Easy, right?

Well, I guess the complicated bit is that you're playing against other people.

I discovered this game at an impromptu games night held by my friends the Reynolds family. Given the high number of people who squeezed into their living room to play this and several other board games tonight, I daren't wonder what kind of numbers attend when they run an event that they'd actually planned.

Say, there could be a board game in that...

Available to play "online" (Ah! Ha! Ha...!) here.

(with thanks to Rob)

The Dragons' Den

2011-06-06T23:59:00.001-07:00

Have spent a couple of evenings this past month driving the sound desk for a Christian competition loosely based upon the Dragons' Den TV series.

Christ-followers in the media were invited to pitch a project that would in some way advance the Christian message. The panel of dragons consisted of experienced believers from the field, who decided which pitch would win the cash injection that had been donated for the purpose by a philanthropist.

And the diversity of entrants was fascinating. A short film, a doco, a discussion show, an undersea natural history series...

It wasn't so much about who got it, as it was about encouraging Christians to turn that long-term dream of theirs into an actual plan, to learn from those who've been there, and to simply make contact with each other.

All in all it seemed to be big success, not least for the team who won!

The Ark Of The Covenant - Found!

2011-05-30T23:59:00.000-07:00

Neighbro's episode #3 of 3

2011-05-29T23:59:00.001-07:00

Neighbours parody at cession church in Auckland tonight. Somewhere buried in here was a message about community synergy.

Big thanks: Carmel, Jon, Scott, DaNae, Caleb and Daniel. With apologies to Brett.

Episode #1 here.
Episode #2 here.

The Gathering 2011

2011-05-28T23:59:00.000-07:00

I've been trying to make it to The Gathering (the NZ Wesleyan-Methodist church's annual weekend retreat) each year since 2006, but somehow something has always got in the way.

This year the weekend has been cancelled due to lack of numbers. Or more accurately, the numbers are too high. Everyone has kids now, which therefore lessens their availability.

So this year, to not lose the event entirely, regional one-day conferences are being held around the country. This lunchtime I therefore headed up to the bus stop on Picton Street to finally attend one. I admit that I didn't relish the idea of navigating all the way to Papakura Wesleyan Church using only Auckland's public transport. Within a mere moment however, I had bumped into Paul, who had offered me a ride there. Well, my bus stop was right outside where he works. (or even Quirks)

After he, Kate and myself had found the location, the real time of searching began. At one point we were all broken up into our respective churches and asked to discuss questions about what we think our one does well or badly, and ways in which we could improve.

There were about eight of us there from my church (cession), which is easily enough people for me to fall quiet. I find it very hard to communicate in a crowd, because I instinctively wait for a pause in the conversation, which just never comes. At one point I began to say something at the same time as someone else, and as usual stopped to let them speak instead, to which somebody declared "Everybody! QUIET! Steve is talking!" Suddenly eight faces - all of them friends - were smiling expectantly at me.

I have no memory what my point was, just the sense that belonged there.

Neighbro's episode #2 of 3

2011-05-22T23:59:00.000-07:00

Neighbours parody tonight at cession's church service in Auckland. Somewhere buried in here was a message about being a good neighbour.

Big thanks: Kate, Carmel, Tes, Jon, Rachel, Scott, DaNae, Caleb and Daniel. With apologies to Brett.

Episode #1 is only a footstep away here.
Episode #3 is only a footstep the other way here.

Return To Oz: Episode #7 of 7 - Return To The End Of The World

2011-05-22T17:00:00.000-07:00

It was the final day of my journey down the east coast of Australia, and therefore also my final day this week of actually travelling.

Today, all being well, my destination would be home, also known as the room where I live in Auckland, New Zealand. However my other three travel days this week had all been fraught with stress. So, surely this last one couldn't really have any new unexpected disasters to throw at me?

As it turned out, today was also the day upon which US religious broadcaster Harold Camping had predicted that the world would end.

As my late night gave way to an early morning (5am), if Camping's date was right, then thanks to eastern Australia's time-zone I had maybe as long as 29 hours in which to get back to New Zealand, and hastily achieve all of my still-outstanding lifelong ambitions. Finish making those films, get this blog up to date, catch up with season 32 of Doctor Who, that sort of thing. What's that? Marry the girl of my dreams? Sorry but I have to prioritise here.

The day certainly got off to a surreal start. Fio gave me a lift to the station, bought my ticket with me, came over the railway bridge, and sat waiting with me on the platform.

I've said it before on this blog, but my friendship with David and Fio, whilst not an unusually close one, has become a special one to me over the years. They've been there for me whichever side of the globe that I've been on, and as such represent to me something of the faithfulness of God. Every time I bid them goodbye, I never know if I'll ever see them again, and yet here Fio and I were at yet another international parting, chatting with the lack of facial defensiveness that comes with a very early morning.

Fio spotted the train approaching, gave me a hug, and headed back across the bridge towards her car.

I've found taking pictures in Australia to be an uphill struggle, for several reasons. Firstly because my friends don't use film any more, and so therefore never have cause to look for it in shops, and so therefore now think that nowhere sells it. Secondly because those places that do still sell it (convenience stores, chemists, the same places as always have basically) do now have a narrower selection. And thirdly because, upon repeatedly running out of film, I would go over to using my phone as a backup, which like all things digital, takes many times longer to switch on, and is much more likely to fail.

Bearing that in mind (rant follows - enjoy), despite repeatedly telling me that it was fully charged this week, my phone's actual standby time has reliably proved itself to somehow be less than a day.

Now this morning on the train it was claiming that it had no power left, and automatically logging itself off. So I was turning it on again, upon which it would suddenly realise that, oh yeah, it actually did have enough power to run an entire minute-long smug video telling me its name, before a moment later claiming again that it had no power, and logging itself out once more. At which point we would go through the whole pantomime all over again, with my attempting to seize the occasional shot for the collection above.

Just what designer had judged that purchasers of this phone would be so stupid as to not notice the disparity between what the phone would say, and what it would prove? A 'smart' phone? Really? If you ask me, it's been designed by Ideos.

However despite all my internal despairing, this morning I had to remain calm. My biggest challenge still lay ahead of me. For although my New Zealand visa explicitly stated that I was allowed to re-enter the country for over another month yet, the fact remained that the lady back at Heathrow in March had seen this, and denied that it was so. According to her, today I would not be allowed back into New Zealand, even despite the written wishes of its own government.

So, trying to look as helpful and friendly as possible, I approached the lady seated behind the Qantas check-in desk. After all the hassle on my way out of New Zealand about the camping stove that hadn't been in my luggage, just what problem might this clerk be going to raise? Maybe some other query to do with camping?

Clerk: "So, do you think the world will end today?"

Whu…?

Was this an official question? Was it a new part of her flowchart, just introduced in the past week? Would she refuse me onto the flight if I wondered out loud "God knows"? Yes, as I type this now I have no end of answers that I wish I had counter-thrown her with.

"Yes, in just over three minutes and five seconds."

"Lucky escape for Arsenal if it did."

"Of course it is - which is why it doesn't matter if I smuggle on board this coughing foreign minor inside a 500ml transparent bottle."

"Never mind about that - take a look at this camping stove."

In the event I meekly went with "Um, no."

I also muttered something about "I don't think anyone will know when the world is going to end." Hmm, relevant, although admittedly still a little bit threatening with it.

As it turned out, she seemed to be distracting herself with this subject, and as she checked me in, let me know exactly what she thought of all those stupid doomsday believers that the media had told her about. Apparently they were all selling everything they had and humanely having their pets put to sleep. I wonder what she thinks of global warming?

I did manage to add "I don't think they're stupid, I just think they're letting a system make their decisions for them." But then it was all over. (I am obviously referring to the checking-in process) (whew!) I was now hurrying to get through security as quickly as possible before anything else went wrong, not least everything.

Of course now that I had left her, it was possible that her question had been in response to seeing my job title 'Missionary' on my visa, and maybe she had been looking for a slightly deeper answer. Perhaps I should have regaled her with talk about Revelation's metaphorical interpretations vs. its literal ones, and the possible intentions of the original author.

Although if I'm honest, privately, I think a part of me secretly rather liked the idea of the world ending today after all. I think on some level we all did. It would have solved so many problems. Good job I hadn't told her that!

Newspaper: Harold Camping has '300' followers. What? How few? (beat) Oh. Suddenly it all fell into place. 300 people is hardly international news, unless they're dead, or you're making fun of them. The media were never going to round such a figure down, so it had probably been rounded up, as had the number of Camping's followers who had also believed that particular aspect of his teaching. So how many human beings actually believed that the world was going to end today? Put it another way, how many were rather going to wait and see? How many had actually had a pet put to sleep? One?

Christianity, and the opinions within it, are extremely diverse. Most of the media on the other hand strives to convey things very simply. Whoever those people were, they were not as simple-minded as they were being portrayed, and neither were those of us who disagreed with them. They needed our sympathy tonight, not our scorn.

The internet was looking mean. There was a lot of ridicule for Camping's followers, including from some church leaders. That was so not the way to handle this. In the event that the world indeed didn't end, those people would be rather broken and hurting, so they needed people to reach out to them and accept them. The fragment of the church that I saw online was doing the polar opposite of this - crowing about itself being right and Camping wrong. I sincerely hope the atheists were having a bit more compassion, but again I suspect some did to some extent, and some didn't.

Which reminds me, I have to grudgingly suppose that the designer of the Ideos phone probably made a lot of good decisions too...

I got on the plane. I sat down in my window seat. I went to look out of the window. I kid you not - there was nothing there...

We sat - presumably on some tarmac - waiting to take off. I watched the whole of Are You Being Served? (sadly not the Australian version, but the BBC episode Conduct Unbecoming) Then we sat on the tarmac some more. If I were really cynical, then I would have assumed that this was because someone was rummaging through my luggage, desperately trying to find something - anything - to delay the take-off even further on account of. Or maybe we couldn't take off because New Zealand - being a couple of hours ahead - had already gone.

But, take off we presently did. There was more food, another ice cream, and disturbingly little to look at outside the window all the way back to Auckland. There we found a planet to land on (I assume it was the same one we'd left), and I at last approached Passport Control for final clearance to re-enter New Zealand.

Pleeeeease... Goddddd...

And you know what? The guy at the desk was really helpful. Pointing out that my Visa only had six weeks of validity left, he advised me that Immigration ought to be able to extend it for me. I was so impressed. I suppose this had distracted him from noticing that my passport was due to expire soon afterwards too...

Oh the world might not be ending, but thanks to that international dateline that I mentioned, the legality of my being at the edge of the map sure was.

Out in the public hall, I looked around for catholic-priest-in-training Nigel. Upon locating each other, he promptly whisked me back to Howick in record time. Outstanding.

This whole week has been a breath of fresh air, both literally and metaphorically. I guess I perhaps could have recognised earlier that this trip would turn out to be much more about seeing friends than seeing the country. For example I visited Tim for one night, but have hardly come away with a sense of Brisbane. Everybody invited me back. I hope this means that I didn't outstay my welcome anywhere.

I must admit, at the outset I'd felt somewhat apprehensive. It had been a while since I had last dropped myself into an alien environment with only my own abilities to depend upon. Sure, every time something works out I attribute it to God, and often when it doesn't I do too, but I also believe that there's a component of his letting go of me to see how I manage on my own too.

If there is a next time, then I hope to plan it in a little better detail, rather than (cough) winging it.

Thank you very much friends Tim, Andy, Ally, Fio and David.

Thank you Australia for a whole week of g'days.

And thank you also for coming on this trip with me.

Return To Oz episode #1
Return To Oz episode #2
Return To Oz episode #3
Return To Oz episode #4
Return To Oz episode #5
Return To Oz episode #6

Return To Oz: Episode #6 of 7 - Hello Again, Sydney

2011-05-21T23:59:00.000-07:00

Scottish Dave was back in my life for another 48 hours.

Or, more accurately, I was back in his.

Q. So, what calamitous series of adventures and mayhem could possibly be waiting for us today?

A. None. Today, Dave had to work.

Fio, her son Nicholas and I therefore set off to explore Sydney on foot without him…

Next day, the four of us headed out for more walking.

My ringtone is currently set to the old Windows 3.1 "tada" fanfare, which PCs used to play upon booting up. In the above shop, I kept thinking that someone was trying to call me. It turned out they were just using an old computer in there.

So there it was - another two days packed to bursting with sights and people. As well as old friends like Kev, I also had a brief phone conversation with Mary-Ann. It's nice to make the connection with my last trip here.

I must admit, I have really enjoyed dropping in again on my Sydney 'family'. It's not just Dave, Fio, Nicholas and Kev, but the place is one which, after over six years, still feels familiar to me.

Adios, Sydney. Thank you for becoming more to me than just a one-off holiday destination.

Return To Oz episode #1
Return To Oz episode #2
Return To Oz episode #3
Return To Oz episode #4
Return To Oz episode #5
Return To Oz episode #7

Return To Oz: Episode #5 of 7 - Planes, Trains And Automatic Telling Machines

2011-05-19T23:59:00.000-07:00

On day one of this trip, my flight from Auckland to Brisbane had been a bit of an adventure. Then on day two, my flights from Brisbane to Port Macquarie via Sydney had, if anything, been a bit more of one. Fortunately, my flight today from Port Macquarie back down to Sydney again all went smoothly. Well, apart from that Klingon Bird Of Prey vessel that suddenly decloaked off our port bow…

Still, after I'd landed, collected my backpack, and successfully exited Sydney Domestic Airport, I was relieved that this leg of my trip had all gone perfectly according to plan.

I got to a payphone and rang my host in Sydney - Fionnuala. She was a little surprised, having not been sure whether I was actually coming today, but duly gave me instructions on the two trains that I had to catch. Well, this should be easy.

Putting down the phone, I went to the ATM machine to get some cash out for the fare.

Ever been to the ATM machine and been surprised to be told that you have no credit available?

What about in another country?

I couldn't make sense of it. I was certain that I had plenty of cash in there, but as many a science-fiction protagonist will tell you, you just can't argue with a machine.

Okay, alone in Australia with almost no local currency left. My emergency reserve of NZ cash had mostly gone in Brisbane with all my earlier hassles, but I still had a few NZ coins and things left about my person. There was no alternative - I would just have to pool everything in my pockets and convert it at a bureau de change. Hey - I was standing just outside an airport after all, so just how many dozens of such booths on this side of the security gates would I likely have to choose from?

Having ascertained that the answer was in fact significantly less than every positive number, I realised that my only chance of finding one within walking distance was now to continue my search back inside the terminal. In other words, I had to go all the way back through security again, with all my luggage getting re-x-rayed, including all my film. Sheesh, I'd been looking forward to eating something about now.

Once through the metal detector, I went to retrieve my backpack, only for a security guy to approach and dumbly hand me a plaque to read. It informed me that, as usual, I had just been randomly selected to be searched. Oh, just get on with it.

I didn't like this. As well as the worry about all the multiple x-rays that my films were getting subjected to, I didn't much like my hard drive's chances against the metal-detector that he was casually waving in my bag.

Still, since he didn't seem to speak much English (hence the plaque I guess), there was little I could do.

Heaving the bag onto my back again, I made my way upstairs to find the nearest bureau de change. I walked through the whole of Sydney Domestic Airport, so I can tell you with confidence that there definitely is one. In fact, there literally is one. And the attendant had left a cardboard clock in the window telling me that he would be back in an hour. And then he wasn't.

To add insult to injury - and hunger - I was now sitting on the floor of the same food court where I had wasted so much time two days ago changing from Brisbane for Port Macquarie. Boy, this time I really felt like I was Tom Hanks.

Was this bureau de change guy (or girl) ever going to come back? Might I have to wait here until 9:30am tomorrow? I was getting quite angry with hunger, heat and exhaustion, when I noticed that the zip on my backpack had broken, exposing my belongings to whoever was standing behind me.

Oh, great. So now I couldn't even carry my luggage. If ever a day had slowly ground me to a complete physical halt, then this was it.

Presently, the unlucky teller did return. I kept telling myself not to be angry with him. I reminded myself that I believed in making the world a happier place, not a more miserable one. And yet, I just couldn't fake the smile. So I told him my tale of woe, manipulatively hoping for some sympathy.

It worked!

Without my even drawing attention to it, he apologised for having kept me waiting, and said he would do the best that he was allowed to to charge me a lower commission for the currency conversion. I later read the receipt and discovered that he had waived the commission entirely.

Then he suggested that I go through my luggage looking for any other coins that I might have which he could likewise convert.

Then he asked me to hold my bag up to the slit in the window, so that he could mend the zip for me.

Blimey!

In a moment he had undergone the transformation from being the subject of my scorn to becoming a public service hero! This guy really was going the extra mile to serve the person rather than the customer.

By the time that I was on my way again, with an encouraging sum of Ozzie dollars and a risen-from-the-dead backpack, I still wasn't sure if I had quite enough money for the train fare all the way to Fionnuala's station, but I sure felt more positive about it.

Fortunately I did have enough cash. Unfortunately, the journey still took over another hour.

Upon reaching my final stop, I texted Fionnuala from the payphone outside the station for her to drive out and collect me. She never received the text. So having waited there for maybe another hour, I can't tell you what a relief it was to spot her swinging her car by the station on the off-chance. That's right - Fio was actually on her way to her brother Gerald's, so I would still have maybe another hour to go before finally eating something.

Still, it was great to be back amongst my Sydney friends again. Most of them probably don't even remember me from last time six years ago, but I remember them, so it was great to hear Gerald's voice on the phone, and rock up at the same house where I'd done my laundry that day in '05.

When, on the way back, we then returned to the same railway station to pick up Scottish Dave after his late shift, I slid down in my seat to hide and surprise him. He literally didn't bat an eyelid. After all, what was the big deal? We seem to see each other most years now.

Presently, we did arrive home, I did eat, and I did solve the mystery of my ATM problems. Heh-heh, y'know, silly me, it turned out that I hadn't left enough money in there…

Return To Oz episode #1
Return To Oz episode #2
Return To Oz episode #3
Return To Oz episode #4
Return To Oz episode #6
Return To Oz episode #7

Return To Oz: Episode #4 of 7 - Billabong / Timbertown

2011-05-19T17:00:00.000-07:00

Twenty years ago, old chum Andy used to present a radio programme, which would sometimes feature inserts that I had produced. It was entitled "The Late Show", so I guess when Andy was mere moments overdue picking me up from the airport on Tuesday, perhaps I should have baited him with some sort of clever pun on this title.

But, y'know, it had been 15 years since those days, so maybe it would take just a little catching up before we could start cracking jokes at each other's expense again.

Wrong. Within a mere quarter of an hour of seeing each other, Andy was enthusiastically showing me around the local radio station with which he was now associated, and we were bouncing off of each other's quips like we saw each other every day. Dropping in on friendly people so soon made me feel at home straight away.

Then we went for a meal. Then we dropped in on his relatives. Then we went to his house and I met his wife Ally and two sons. Then we headed out again to enjoy the delights of Coles supermarket. Scarcely an hour went by that we didn't travel somewhere new. This evening was turning out to be pleasantly packed.

Which, as it happened, was also how the next 45 lively hours in and around Port Macquarie would play out.

The following morning, Andy and his whole family drove me all around… no, hang on, why don't you come along with us?

Whew - what a day!

On the second and final morning, I had again been planning to catch the early Countrylink coach down to Sydney, but realised that my whirlwind trip along the east coast just wasn't proving to be about the place, but the people. Flying again might be more expensive, but I would really be paying the extra for another daytime with my friends, so Andy and Ally easily convinced me to stay on.

Andy and I also took ten minutes to redub the lines to a movie that we'd starting making in London 20 years ago. I'd compiled the guide-track in Auckland using Mr Hippy's cassette-radio, printed the script using flatmate Cathy's printer, borrowed a lead from flatmate Dave, bought an adaptor for it on the way to the airport, copied the audio file using Tim's computer in Brisbane, and finally this morning played the lines to Andy off of my phone, for him to repeat them more clearly as I re-recorded him. To be 10,000 miles and 15 years away from the original performance, but still united in our efforts to see its completion, felt somehow cool to me. Well, I like making these connections.

Anyway, it kicked off another rollercoaster of a day:

Until, finally, we rolled a little gloomily back into the airport again.

As we waited for the gate (door actually) to open, Andy and I went through a ton of photos of old friends and events. As we prepared to go our very separate ways once more, somehow the Australian sunshine outside looked a little harsher. Andy told me from where he, Ally and the kids would be waving when I took off, but alas in the event I couldn't see them. At least inside, I was waving back anyway.

I can't remember quite where it had happened, but the image that I took away in my mind of Andy was of him alternately pushing his two boys on the swings. I could see on his face that his concentration was focused on making each individual push as good as it could be.

It was a good impression to take away of Andy's life now, especially given that he and his family had done everything that they could to make my stay with them as good as it could be too.

Return To Oz episode #1
Return To Oz episode #2
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Return To Oz episode #5
Return To Oz episode #6
Return To Oz episode #7

Return To Oz: Episode #3 of 7 - Getting Into Port

2011-05-17T23:59:00.002-07:00

The more you do a thing, the better that you ought to get at it.

Take travelling. I must have set foot in about 20 countries around the globe, so I should be not too bad at getting from A to B by now, right?

For example, my self-generated itinerary for this week's holiday was busy, yet also easy:

1. Fly from Auckland NZ to Brisbane Australia.
2. Stay the night with Tim in Brisbane.
3. Spend today travelling overland (by either coach or train) 280 miles south to Port Macquarie, taking in the scenery.
4. Stay two nights with Andy near Port Macquarie.
5. Spend the day travelling overland (by either coach or train) 200 miles south to Sydney, taking in the scenery.
6. Stay three nights with Scottish Dave and Fionnuala in Sydney.
7. Fly home to Auckland NZ.

A nice balance of organisation and freedom, hey? There's another thing that can happen when you do that one thing a lot though - overconfidence.

As Tim dropped me off by the side of Morningside train station early this, uh, morning, I bought my ticket to nearby Roma Street with every intention of jumping onto the next railway wagon heading down the Gold Coast to rendezvous with Andy. I like travelling by train. I like looking out of the window. And I hadn't seen Andy for 15 years! Boy, today was gonna be just great.

At Roma Street, I discovered that there were only about two trains a day to Port Macquarie, one of which I'd already missed. The other wasn't due to leave for several hours, and wouldn't therefore arrive there until silly o-clock at night.

So I duly moved on to looking at coaches, which shared the same problem.

Andy's earlier advice via email came floating back into my brain to haunt me…

Andy
May 9
Re: Visit
"How are you travelling to Port? Getting a flight down would be quickest and cheapest I think. The coach takes too long and you'll be exhausted. Train ain't that much better either."

Steve
May 10
Visit
"I'm actually quite keen on travelling overland to see some of the country, even if that only turns out to be Australian roads. Whatever method I use, I'll probably be booking it locally in Brisbane, so will be able to email or text you a time and further details then."

Having declined Andy's advice, the idea of now asking him to pick me up at 5am didn't exactly flush me with success, so option 3 - flying - it had to be.

Until someone dropped the bombshell that, apparently, Port Macquarie didn't have an airport.

Oh.

Well, clearly there was no way I could walk it. Don't forget, in my backpack I was still officially carrying a camping stove.

Even my expectation of finding a travel agency based within Roma Street Station to give me some definitive options turned out to be wrong too. Pretty soon I was lugging my backpack out into Roma Street the actual street. Down George Street and past Herschel Street (eurghh), I can't tell you how glad I was to spy the familiar red branding of Flight Centre! If they couldn't help me, then no-one could.

First however, I had to get some money together. ASB Bank is called The Commonwealth Bank in Australia, but all the same, they couldn't access my NZ account there. Straight into converting my hard cash from NZ then.

When the familiar metal airline pilot finally opened his cut-price travel agency at 9:30am, inside there was both good news and bad. The good news was that Port Macquarie did indeed have an airport again. The bad news was that there were no flights there from Brisbane.

So basically, as well as spending a lot of money by flying, and as well as spending even more money by booking the ticket on the same day, I was now committing to spending yet more money flying over Port Macquarie to get to Sydney, just so that I could get a second last minute expensive flight back again.

In fact, the NZ cash that I'd changed couldn't cover it. I had to borrow internet access to arrange to pay it from my UK account.

The deed done, minutes later out in the street, my phone rang. It was Andy. It was the first time I'd heard his voice saying something new in 15 years, and it felt so good to not have to be answering his questions with a vague 'I'm not sure'.

With a few hours still to kill, I tried out the GPS on my phone to see if there was anything worth doing for an hour nearby, and immediately spotted the river.

Soon however I was back on the train heading determinedly for Brisbane's domestic airport, reading my booking info as I went:

Heh-heh-heh, now that's what I call in-flight entertainment!

After checking-in, I decided to check-out my Facebook account, and here's where Australia turned my life up-side down yet again. Facebook wasn't used to my logging-in from this country. Facebook therefore thought that I might be a hacker. Facebook wanted further reassurance as to who I was.

"To verify that you are the owner of this account, please identify the people tagged in the following photos."

Okay.

Below are the actual photos that it asked me to identify. If you're a particularly close friend (or even a regular reader of this blog) then you might like to play along with me. Apologies if I've borrowed your picture, but Facebook borrowed it first. Let's begin now...

Okay, I'm 85% sure that hiding behind the flowers that's probably Sara's hair.

Um… I have no idea who that is. It looks like Bish. Is that Bish? It's Bish.

What? Oh now HOW am I supposed to be able to see through a wall? Why are you picking these images? Is this some sneaky Facebook attempt to catalogue photos that are currently untagged???

Oh fer BL£$^&GRR*&%$£**&!!!!!

So there I was, lost on the other side of the world, running out of cash, and unable to recognize my friends. Heck, the way this day was going, pretty soon I wouldn't even be able to correctly spell 'recognize'.

Giving up on my friends (sorry everyone), presently I boarded the plane, we took off, flew over my destination ignoring it, and duly began the descent into Sydney.

Sydney!

Despite all the day's challenges, it felt absolutely great to look out of the plane window and see my old friends the Sydney Opera House, the harbour bridge and the look-out tower again. That they were still okay after I had left them here over six years ago did me a power of good. No-one had stolen them or anything!

I briefly toyed with the idea of phoning Scottish Dave to ask if he wanted to come to the airport for a coffee with me, but discounted it. He was my Thursday. This meant I had to slouch around the Sydney Domestic Terminal alone for a few hours, becoming familiar enough with it to start feeling a bit like Tom Hanks.

The thing about airports, is that aside from shopping, there's absolutely nothing to do but eat. Surrounded by the food court, it was tough not to buy a huge overpriced maccas or something, only to twenty minutes later buy another one to alleviate the boredom. It's almost as if this was the airport planners' intention...

Presently I boarded my second flight, and we took off, again. Despite my cross-hemispherical lifestyle, this was only the fourth internal flight that I have ever caught, and I was beginning to feel pleasantly like I lived in the States. The irony that internal flights are probably more common per head in Australia is not lost on me.

Soon we began our final descent, landed, disembarked, and I discovered that Port Macquarie Airport resembled a little railway station, except maybe a bit smaller. Perhaps the person who'd given me that earlier advice about its non-existence had once visited here and got mixed up.

I think I collected my luggage straight off the back of the trailer outside, before repeatedly walking past a guy who didn't quite look enough like a slightly older version of Andy.

Eventually I managed to make direct eye-contact with the guy who didn't quite look enough like a slightly older version of Andy, and you know what? You'll never guess. I was right. It turned out that it actually wasn't him.

Return To Oz episode #1
Return To Oz episode #2
Return To Oz episode #4
Return To Oz episode #5
Return To Oz episode #6
Return To Oz episode #7

Return To Oz: Episode #2 of 7 – Tim Down Under

2011-05-17T23:59:00.000-07:00

I have a friend called Tim.

On this blog I used to refer to him as “Tim Downstairs”.

This was because his Christian name was “Tim”, and for a few years I actually did live in the flat above him.

But I never thought of Tim as a neighbour. He spent too much time upstairs to be just that, and we all spent too much time down at his. Despite living at an address that was different by an entire letter, Tim was really more of a flatmate.

The days and evenings that we’d all spend hanging out together were legion. Getting pizzas in, road-testing some new bit of tech, and just plain chatting. Us all, and Tim’s cat Smokey.

Tim also holds the rare distinction of being one of only two people to have written a guest-post on this blog.

Eventually Tim moved over to Brisbane, of course inviting us all to come visit him. The morning he left, I remember promising Smokey that I’d see her again in Oz.

Sadly, Smokey has since gone to curl up in that great garden in the sky, so when I finally made it over to visit Tim this evening, I was saddened to see her ashes, but delighted to be introduced to his two new cats – Moo and Monty.

And the rest of the evening? Well, funnily enough we spent it eating pizza, trying to get some technology to work, and chatting rather a lot.

Tim may no longer be just downstairs, but it’s great to know that I can still just drop in.

Return To Oz episode #1
Return To Oz episode #3
Return To Oz episode #4
Return To Oz episode #5
Return To Oz episode #6
Return To Oz episode #7

Return To Oz: Episode #1 of 7 - Airport Insecurity

2011-05-16T20:00:00.001-07:00

Sometimes I think the purpose of an airport is to stop people from flying.

It's just that in recent years the doubts that Customs have come up with about me have become, well, customary.

They pull me out of lines, go through all my stuff, make me wait while they query my valid visa(s) with their colleagues...

I guess I should be glad that the other constant about all this is that so far, in 100% of cases, they have always eventually realised that they’ve been wasting their time.

Being a bit of a nodder and a smiler, do I just look like an easy bureaucratic target? Perhaps not. Rather, they will often explain that their selection of me is 'random'. Fantastic - so if I were to place a bet beforehand on my random selection, then I could potentially offset my winnings against the cost of my ticket and fly for free!

Guys, why not pick on one of the many passengers who doesn’t have official documentation from the local government permitting his/her entry?

If this is profiling, then please get a better worldview. Like I’m trying to.

Whatever drives this global assumption about me, it’s obviously not the paperwork. I know this because even the sniffer dogs choose to single me out with the same success rate as their human counterparts.

In recent years my airport-technique has inevitably adapted in a forlorn effort to pre-empt the queries that staff have yet to discover that they are independently going to generate upon meeting me. No, I don't phone them in advance to advise them of the upcoming drain on their busy schedules, instead I have this quite trouble-making attitude of following the rules.

On 3rd March this year I entered Heathrow Airport to fly to New Zealand, only to be magnanimously informed at the check-in desk that I was only just going to be allowed onto the flight. The reason? My passport had exactly 6 months and 2 days left on it. Since my 24-hour flight to NZ would deliver me there 2 days later local time, this was therefore the last flight ever that she could allow me to board using this passport.

Wow, even with all my preparation, I still hadn’t seen that curveball coming. I especially hadn’t seen it coming because of the way my NZ Work Visa explicitly stated that I could enter on any date until the end of June. This date had been actually calculated by the NZIS precisely because of when my passport was due to expire. I tried to point this out to her, but with no success or, thankfully, need of it.

Still, that encounter had been a heads-up for me. Later on in NZ, almost everyone who I asked - including two branches of Flight Centre - informed me that, now that my passport had under 6 months left, I would not be allowed into Australia for the same reason. Eventually however I rang up the source – the Australian Consulate – and had to listen to their recorded information several times before I would believe it.

"Welcome to the Australian Consulate General… Your passport does not need to be valid for longer than your proposed travel."

Those were their exact words, for in keeping with the spirit of recorded messages, I recorded them.

So today I heaved my luggage onto the bus bound for Auckland Airport, planning to fly to Australia for a week’s holiday, and aware that this would be the crunch. I not only had to get into Australia, but afterwards I had to also get out again and back into New Zealand. I was armed with not only a transcript of the phone message, but also the actual recording on my phone, plus of course a pair of headphones. Oh the Aussies might not let me in, but if they didn’t, then I was darn well going to prove to them their inconsistency.

First however I had to survive said bus journey.

I was wearing the West Ham soccer t-shirt which cockney Neil had given to me years ago. As is usually the case, someone came up to me on the bus to start a conversation with me about the team’s recent relegation. I really should become a member of their fan club, if only so that I can return these people’s joy at spotting me...

Anyway, Auckland check-in desk. Passport and ticket. Bag checked in. No problems highlighted.

Whew!

Next I paused to eat the apple that I’d brought with me. Experience had taught me that consuming fruit while on the flight still left behind the smell of it in my bag, and I didn’t want to attract the sniffers again.

Then I made a mistake – I pottered around the airport for a bit. Just long enough for them to announce my name over the tannoy, requesting that I return to the check-in desk.

Memo to self – In future, get through security to the final departure lounge as quickly as possible. It’s more inconvenient for them to send you away from there.

So, praying, I went back to the check-in desk, keeping my transcript and phone easily to hand. A lot was riding on this. If they declined my boarding the flight, then I stood to lose not just the money that I’d spent on the tickets, but meeting up with four valued old friends along the East Coast of Australia. If I’m honest, seeing those friends had probably factored into why I was standing on this hemisphere in the first place.

Anyway I returned to the Qantas check-in desk, only to discover that the problem wasn’t my passport after all. No, it was that whacking great big camping stove that I was secretly smuggling through in my bag.

What? A... camping stove? Really???

Memo to self 2 – Don’t try smuggling any camping stoves through in your luggage.

Well, they couldn’t really blame me. No, they actually couldn’t. For there was absolutely nothing remotely resembling such a device anywhere in my admittedly large backpack. So the explanation was simple – they must have mixed up my luggage with someone else’s.

Hasty phone calls were made. I explained that my backpack was blue. The voice on the other end of the phone corrected me that it was black. This wasn’t getting us anywhere, which was exactly the result that I was trying to avoid.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, we eventually figured out what the item was in my luggage that security had misidentified on their x-ray as a camping stove. It was a can of shaving cream made by Woolworths.

Apparently this would be okay, they said, but only because the top was on.

Memo to self 3 – Buy shaving cream locally, to avoid blowing one’s top.

That all sorted out, I hurried as quickly as possible through security and the duty free area etc. to find the departure gate. While sitting there, a distant airport official in a suit looked at me, made his way through the crowds towards me, and crushingly asked me how I was.

I can’t tell you how much this made my heart sink. What was it this time – the passport, the ‘camping stove’, or something completely new?

So he produces his mobile phone, and indicates for me to look at it. Unlocking the screen, he covertly flashes at me his wallpaper of West Ham Football Club.

Memo to self 4 – Join. That. Fanclub.

I guess I could have attempted to blag my allegiance to his favourite football team and tried to swing an upgrade. After all, from the earlier fan on the bus I knew that they’d just been relegated. If only I’d been wearing a Doctor Who t-shirt. I can talk about that for hours, and everybody loves Doctor Who. Well, since 2005 they suddenly do.

Also while waiting to board, I again had to explain the presence of the camping stove in my luggage to the desk staff. Frankly, I was starting to feel like I was maybe now due that upgrade anyway...

Eventually I boarded cattle class, we took off (yay!), the seatbelt sign was turned off, and I got up to use the facilities. At this, yet another complete stranger approached me, wanting to say something of grave importance.

“Before Bin Laden, no-one had ever heard of Islamabad... but everyone knew... West Ham are bad!!!”

Memo to self 5 – Jokes on an aircraft about Bin Laden should be avoided at all costs. Some of them are appalling.

After three to four hours, during which Qantas had rather bravely served us all ice creams, we touched down in Brisbane! No-one there queried my passport either, so no-one got to hear the recording on my phone. I was almost disappointed.

All in all, the journey had repeatedly threatened to go awry, but as I made my way through all the remaining formalities, my concerns were receding from real life and safely back into my overactive worry.

Except that now an official was asking me to walk past his sniffer dog. Well, I couldn’t. The dog was taking far too much interest in my daysack.

Memo to self 6 – Not even the departure airport had been late enough to eat that apple...

Return To Oz episode #2
Return To Oz episode #3
Return To Oz episode #4
Return To Oz episode #5
Return To Oz episode #6
Return To Oz episode #7

Neighbro's episode #1 of 3

2011-05-15T23:59:00.000-07:00

Neighbours parody at cession|community church in Auckland tonight. Somewhere buried in here was a message about outreach.

Rest of the service here.

Big thanks: Kate, Carmel, Tes, Jon, Rachel, Scott, DaNae, Caleb and Daniel. With apologies to Brett.

Episode #2 is here.
Episode #3 is here.

After The Last Supper comes... The First Breakfast!

2011-05-01T23:59:00.000-07:00

Reading John 21:1-17 (NIV) tonight at cession | community church in Auckland, with Bible's-eye view. Thanks to Scott.

Where Are They Now? ...Omega

2011-04-25T23:59:00.000-07:00

Then:

Megalomaniac Time Lord ruler of an anti-matter universe on the other side of a black hole.

Now:

Canned fish in a dairy shop in New Zealand.

Tears Sarah Jane? No, Not Really.

2011-04-24T23:59:00.000-07:00

Pointing at you above is someone who's been making my life a bit more worth living ever since I can remember, yet I've only just noticed.

For though I've never met her, Elisabeth Sladen has always been just there.

The earliest memory that I have of watching Doctor Who comes from Christmas 1974, when I was three years old. I was watching the end of the omnibus repeat of Planet Of The Spiders, and as I did, was also recalling having seen it six months earlier on June 8th. Though the actual moment in my memory is of the third Doctor finally facing-down the Spider Queen, before and after that scene I would have also been watching Elisabeth Sladen as one Sarah Jane Smith.

In fact, I carried on watching her. It would be almost another two years - until 23rd October 1976 - before she would leave that long-running series.

Leave? Well, no. Although absolutely everyone to regularly feature in Doctor Who has left at some point (present company excepted), Elisabeth Sladen never quite managed it. She kept getting asked back, you see. A lot. I guess she was very popular.

Five years on - 28 December 1981 - I found my ten-year-old self spending some of my school Christmas holidays watching her again in K-9 And Company. This was a stand-alone pilot for a spin-off show. Although the BBC bosses of the day chose not to commision a series, it was paradoxically popular enough for a repeat the following year (which I also watched, and audio-taped). The year after that she was back again for Doctor Who's 20th anniversary story The Five Doctors, in scenes which followed on from the failed pilot.

Of course, I assumed that that would be the final good bye too, but no again. Silly me.

The BBC cassette of Genesis Of The Daleks which my dad got me for my birthday kept getting a lot of listens.

Then on 27th August 1993 - when I was 22 and going out to work - she was back again playing the role in the five-part radio series Doctor Who: The Paradise Of Death.

1993 also saw her second return to the TV show proper in Dimensions In Time.

1995 found her appearing in the direct-to-video spin-off Downtime.

1996 - five more radio episodes of Doctor Who: The Ghosts Of N-Space. Despite Doctor Who's TV cancellation seven years earlier, encountering Sarah again was getting to be pretty ordinary.

So ordinary in fact that by now I was buying these cassettes and then leaving them several years before playing them. After all, I was pretty busy watching all the original TV episodes - including her era - on VHS with my mum and dad each week. When Sarah next recorded new material in 2002 - launching a series of original CD adventures for her character - I admit that I didn't even bother. Hey - Sarah was just not that big a deal any more.

The rest I think you may already know. 2006 - while I was a 35-year-old missionary in New Zealand - found her returning to Doctor Who on TV yet again. Then on New Year's Day 2007 I sat with my family watching the launch of yet another new TV series - The Sarah Jane Adventures. With further new appearances in Doctor Who still to come, the idea of her continuing to play the role for the rest of her life would have sounded like a very welcome idea indeed.

Except that, four days ago, she actually did die.

...

It's such a shock because she was only 65, but arguably looked half that age. (see picture above) It's such a shock because we didn't even know that she was ill. It's such a shock because my family and I sit round together to watch her 13 times a year, and were looking forward to doing so again this.

It's such a shock because I'm now 40, and have only now noticed that she's been on the wallpaper of my life for as long as I can remember.

Today I read her co-star Tom Baker's tribute, and learnt that plans were afoot for him to record even more Doctor Who audio productions with her!

Incredibly, she was right at the top of her success in the role, despite having decisively left it a staggering 35 years ago.

She must have been doing something very right indeed.

Thank you Elisabeth Sladen for playing the best - the very best - Doctor Who companion of all time. It was incredibly kind of you to let us have Sarah back again for a few more special years.

Well, actually about 35 more.

Stations Of The Cross 2011

2011-04-24T23:58:00.000-07:00

Each year that I attend it, Cession’s Easter art exhibition bewilders me with its creativity. This year (to coin a phrase) it's back, and it's about time...

False Accuser

2011-04-22T23:59:00.000-07:00

Monologue (with restored sound) about Jesus' accusers. Performed at our Good Friday service at cession | community church here in Auckland. Thanks to Paul for wrangling the camera!

Wisdom Watchers infomercial sketch

2011-04-17T23:59:00.000-07:00

Kudos to Jon, Brett, Nigel, DaNae, Rob and Davester.

Space Cowboys

2011-04-16T23:59:00.000-07:00

I guess I’m a bit of a sucker for character movies about the older generation, so when it’s a science-fiction outing too... well.

Space Cowboys gets Clint Eastwood, Tommy Lee Jones, Donald Sutherland and James Garner together on board the space shuttle, and sets them unravelling a conspiracy from the cold war. Along the way, the tirade of gags prove to be just as durable.

Frank: ”Clock’s ticking Bob, and I’m only getting older.”

Jay Leno: ”Now you all have military backgrounds... North or South?”

Frank: ”You know what the worst day of my life was? The day Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon. I was probably the only person in America who wanted to commit suicide that day.”
Col. Hawkins: ”Well, thanks a lot Frank. We haven't spoken in twelve years and that's basically been the big question on my mind - what could make you commit suicide.”

There are no real surprises in here, but that’s not the point. Space Cowboys radiates enough charm to create its own artificial atmosphere.

New Zealand's Hottest Easter Baker

2011-04-16T18:00:00.000-07:00

Well, Cession’s 2011 Easter Egg Hunt certainly went off with a bang.

More specifically, an almighty crash of thunder.

Yes, for most of the morning, it absolutely bucketed down.

Fortunately, you’ll notice that the above sentence contained that word ‘most’. For the exact ten minutes that all the kids had to actually go outside and search for eggs, it held off. Nice timing there, God.

Though numbers were understandably lower than previous years, the morning was undoubtably another success. This despite my appearing in a sketch! Performing indoors didn’t save me from getting my clothes messy though...

Respect: Kristen and Brett.

Wishful Thinking infomercial sketch

2011-04-10T23:59:00.000-07:00

Another sketch from Cession church, with thanks to Dave, Brett, DaNae and Paul.

Puhoi There!

2011-04-09T23:59:00.000-07:00

Another jolly boys' outing, this time to Puhoi with (from right) Nigel, Steve, and flatmate Dave...

Puhoi Town Library. So tiny, and yet diverse enough to contain a DVD of The Railway Children, as given away free with the Daily Mail in the... UK?!?

One of those composite shots that never quite works, although the thumbnail above seems to get away with it. Still, click to zoom-in and find Nigel, David and Steve waving at you!

Whinneying motorbikes. Yee-har!

Paul (movie)

2011-04-08T23:59:00.000-07:00

Tonight, Jamie and I stood outside the only building on the planet to currently contain William Shatner, but alas couldn’t afford to go in. :(

However showing elsewhere on the same block was a film about another big giant head - Paul.

This turned out to be pretty well everything that I expect of a Simon Pegg and Nick Frost road movie, which is mainly a good thing. Drenched in SF knowledge, and I think it may even have had a Shatner lookalike on a TV at one point too, which softened the blow of not being able to see the real thing.

Paul is a grey-type alien who’s been trapped on Earth for decades, bargaining for his safety by offering scientific knowledge in return. And movie ideas. In fact, Paul’s real-life experiences have provided the inspiration for everything from Indiana Jones to The X-Files.

Clive: “Agent Mulder was right!”
Paul: “Agent Mulder was my idea!”

It goes without saying that you can’t look at this 2011 deadbeat in alien’s clothing too closely. For example, a being from outside Earth’s culture really shouldn’t be investing quite so much faith in our contemporary theory of evolution, but instead ought to believe a completely unheard of one. (eg. life began in the sun or something) But hey - I can hardly blame the film for having itself been written on Earth in 2010...

If you’re a fan of Pegg and Frost’s work, as am I, then Paul fires-off the pair's usual arsenal of comedy weaponry with dependable accuracy.

Alas, he doesn't narrate spoken-word versions of classic hits though.

Darn it.

Guilt Blaster infomercial sketch

2011-04-03T23:59:00.000-07:00

Another sketch from Cession church, with thanks to Brett, Paul, Greg and DaNae.

Air New Zealand Tech. Ops. Open Day

2011-04-03T17:30:00.000-07:00

... live from Auckland Airport!

With thanks to Warren.

Auckland City 2011

2011-04-02T23:59:00.000-07:00

Josh, Interrupted

2011-03-31T23:59:00.000-07:00

Today’s celebrity Bible-Reader is... Tim Vine

2011-03-26T23:59:00.000-07:00

But some seeds fell in good soil, and the plants sprouted, grew, and produced corn: some had thirty grains, others sixty, and others a hundred.”

And Jesus concluded, “Listen, then, if you have ears!”

- Mark 4:8-9 (Good News)

Eagles Farewell I Tour – Live from Melbourne

2011-03-25T23:59:00.000-07:00

The Eagles must be legendary – even I’ve heard of them.

Spoken of with hushed reverence by fans whenever I’ve heard their name mentioned around the world, their reputation with me is only further cemented by the number of times that I’ve seen this DVD. Flatmate Dave quite likes them too, you see, I can tell by the way in which he, flatmate Cathy and I are still all sitting round watching this after five years.

And this DVD certainly lives up to that reputation. I don’t know the band well enough to critique each track, but it all sounds great, and both band and audience seem to be really enjoying themselves.

There's a pun in here somewhere about getting eagle-eyed, which as you know isn't considered to be a bad thing...

Fig. 1: Testing out my new phone.

(available here)

Priestville

2011-03-17T23:59:00.002-07:00

I have just spent the past week living in a catholic seminary with a group of trainee priests.

This has been all thanks to old friend (and trainee Priest) Nigel, who upon hearing that I was again to return to NZ as a Missionary, contacted me in London from Sydney and insisted upon putting me up.

So with flatmate Dave back from Alaska, and flatmate Luke planning to move out a mere week later, the opportunity for a week’s free room and board could not have been better timed.

Quite apart from which, it’s been an interesting seven days here. I’ve attended a couple of services with these new friends, shared umpteen meals with them, and watched the awful Japanese tsunami unfold last week on live television with them.

Ultimately, I’ve come away with a renewed respect for those areas where our beliefs diverge.

I think it’s been handy for some of them to have someone to chat to about all the stuff they’ve been learning too, if for no other benefit than revision.

Tonight however it was farewells all round.

Well, not so much farewells, as see you laters.

As I and my gear caught a lift back to Howick in their cook’s car, it was testament to the friendliness of Auckland’s community of believers that I fully expected to see them again soon.

The same sort of friendliness that had offered me the room there in the first place.

2011-03-17T19:30:00.000-07:00

City Lights 2011

2011-03-12T23:59:00.000-08:00

Today I took part in a project that was sending teams of Christians out into Auckland to assist the community.

So after last night’s recruitment service at my old church Edge, this morning I was back at the Urban Vineyard (it’s been a while since I was last here), being paired up with a guy called Martyn to help tidy a lady’s garden.

Sounds simple right? I mean cutting back foliage is what I spent a significant amount of my day doing the previous occasion I’d taken part in this initiative.

However upon our arrival at the house, we passed a couple of smiling, suited young men who were just leaving. They appeared to be Mormons going door-to-door, which I felt placed a certain pressure upon us. Not because the lady might assume that we were from the same church, but because in comparison to their immaculate appearance, our version of faith in God was in danger of looking... well, a bit casual.

Basically, our beliefs were being communicated passively through our practical help. At any rate, there was definitely no backing out now, lest we make our faith look bad.

At least, we assumed that there would be no backing out...

We discovered that much of the work had already been done earlier in the week by the lady’s family, but not all of it. The pre-cleared rubbish had already filled up the skip there, so we decided to telephone round to find a company who would be willing to replace it with an empty one for us to fill. The only problems with this plan were that (a) the house didn’t have a phone, (b) Martyn had left his so-called mobile at home, and (c) my SIM card had died back in the UK.

So we drove back to the DIY store to scout out purchasing an enormous bag-skip. (a bag that's the same size as a skip - I don’t know what the technical term for this is) This in turn led to our borrowing the shop’s phone to call skip companies, directory enquiries, and ultimately the project’s organisers to approve the extra expenditure.

As it turned out, the bags cost quite a bit, no-one would collect a skip on a Saturday, and we couldn’t get hold of the project’s organisers anyway.

You can appreciate how that giving up and going home again option was beginning to look not just easy, but positively compelling.

As New Zealand’s now reliably hot sun heaved itself across the blue sky, we too began our return journey all the way back across West Auckland to the church to speak to someone in person. Then we had to pick up some gear from Martyn’s house. And eat something. And buy the new bag-skip. We were getting creamed by the afternoon sun, and we hadn’t even started yet.

The knock-on effect of all this was that, once we finally did get started, Martyn and I threw our heart and soul into the short window in which we could still get this thing happening. We chainsawed foliage, removed rubbish, and swept up leaves until finally even the sun was beating a retreat toward the horizon. We didn’t get it all cleared, but man we filled up our bag-skip.

After a big meal back at Edge, during which time I caught up with my old Bible-study leader Janine, it was time to help clear up the church afterwards, and then stroll home.

I’d like to think that the lady with the garden had felt some sense of peace at getting her space back again, but I have no idea. It hadn't been about getting a reaction. It had been about helping someone simply because it was right to.

Burning Up On Re-Entry

2011-03-08T23:59:00.000-08:00

8th March

"What?! You're going to New Zealand AGAIN?!?"

There’s a famous episode of The Simpsons entitled The City Of New York vs. Homer Simpson.

In it, everyone’s favourite Nuclear Safety Officer discovers that he has to travel to New York to collect his car because Barney has dumped it there after a joyride. At this news, an appalled Homer promptly drifts off into a lengthy flashback to his youth...

Basically, we get to see how when young(er) Homer had visited the big city, everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. So we see him living in a backpackers for nine months, eating other people’s leftovers, failing at hundreds of job applications, presenting a radio show that hardly anyone listens to, reversing a truck into the side of someone’s 4x4, missing the return of his favourite TV show, joining a church which required him to learn Klingon, working six days a week all year round as a TESOL teacher, and then after four years ultimately losing a residency application despite having two jobs.

Poor old Homer J.

No, hang on, wasn’t that... me?

Anyway, as the familiar Kiwi landscape once more faded into view outside the Boeing 777’s windows last Saturday, the words that escaped my lips certainly could have been Homerish.

“Hello. Auckland.”

(second word possibly uttered with eyes squinted at the Sky Tower in mistrust)

Sure enough, the cab driver from the airport did well out of my business, if only by quoting one price at the outset and then later revising it to have been an estimate. Still, I’d have looked like an idiot walking.

Upon locating my new address, everyone had heard of my imminent return and had accordingly run away. Cathy was out for the day, flatmate Dave was in Alaska (kindly loaning me the use of his room), and even Tiger had heard of my approach and left home forever. (no, not that Tiger - Tiger the cat)

Still, meeting new flatmate Luke had been a long time in coming. This complete stranger had spent many months generously storing all my gear that I’d left behind, and probably just as long again stashing it in his sister’s garage, with whom I was also unacquainted. And no, Luke didn’t want any money for his kindness. As we proceeded to talk, and talk, and talk, the old cliché about a stranger being just a friend who you haven’t met yet was well and truly proven.

As the afternoon drew on, I had my second shower of the day (after Brisbane Airport), and presently stumbled back out into the sunshine to get some shopping. By an unusual turn of fate I had actually had some really deep sleep on the flight, thanks to having had three seats to stretch out across. However now that the New Zealand sun was beating down, the dehydration and tiredness were overcoming me.

I have never had much sense of direction, so even though I thought I was just heading up the one straight road to Food Town, I still immediately got lost.

Back in London, Herschel and I had once gone through a phase of watching movies of our area back-to-front, like a mirror-image. The effect had been disorientating - a sense that each image had been shot somewhere nearby, but exactly where neither one of us could quite pinpoint.

This was similar to the effect that Howick was now having on me in real life. The grass along the pavement, the car numberplates, and the feeling of the New Zealand sun and atmosphere on my skin told me unmistakably that I was in East Auckland. Yet I was crossing road after road with familiar names, but couldn’t place any of them.

Eventually I reached the end of the road where Picton Street really should have been. It wasn’t. That really messed with my head.

Yet depite the beating sun, spitting rain, and groaning headache, through all this inner confusion, I felt a really strong sense of shining peace. I was supposed to be back here in Howick. Perhaps I should never have left.

They now sell Spider-Man toothpaste here, and yes, my One Card still works!

The next day, my famous Howick & Eastern bus pass still worked too, so I blew the 10c that I’d left on it to help me achieve a long-held ambition – to once again attend my church.

So many times in the UK I’d dreamt of this moment, however in those plans I had always arrived cool and collected, and snuck in at the back during the worship. Now that it was real life’s turn, as I got to actually walk down that corridor, of course I was boiled stupid after trekking through the relentless sun from Burger King.

Real life rarely matches our expectations, and the actual moment of my re-entry was, to me, completely unexpected. Can you see the unexpected obstacle in the photo above? Yes, it was that unforeseen red so-called ‘child-proof’ gate...

10,000 miles, only to be prevented from crossing the final inch by a kids’ safety-feature.

Frank was the first to spot the incompetent Mr Bean routine unfolding at the back, and duly came over with a big smile and a handshake to help me out. I’d wanted Frank to be the first person I saw, because I knew exactly what I was going to say to him. “Are we still on for that coffee?”

And then, despite the dedication that Brett was conducting at the front, it all unfolded. I quietly sat down at the back next to Jean, and got to grin like an idiot as friend after friend made eye contact, smiled, and came over to welcome me back. Megan, Juanita, Kate, Paul, Shaune, Kristen, Greg... Once he was free to do so, even Brett came over to quietly shake my hand and remind me that he had once foreseen this moment in a dream...

And it could not have been a better service to return on. Part one of the Pages series was all about members of the community sharing their backstories for others to become better acquainted with them. These were all – to me - new people to whom I really needed an introduction. So as an American called Sara shared her testimony of the highs and lows of moving across the world to follow God in New Zealand, I couldn’t help feeling that I’d heard a story similar to this somewhere before. I was pretty sure it was Homer Simpson’s...

At any rate, the peace of being in Howick was even stronger here. I couldn’t see it, hear it, touch it, smell it or taste it, but as I looked up once again at the musicians and the instruments on the naturally-lit stage, somehow I felt an enormous peace in that room.

Afterwards I met Maree, helped to clear up, saw Carmel, and I’m pretty sure I had my usual lift home from Random Dave.

The next day I went to the bank to confirm that my ATM card was still working. It was. All of Howick had, apparently, been stored safely in cotton wool while I’d been gone.

The next day – Shrove Tuesday - it was time to return to work, and once more the journey had me boiling like a saucepan. When my second bus showed up, apparently the driver had decided to not bother displaying the number on the front, assuming that the word “Special” would explain. So having worked this out too late, eventually I had to instead go all the way to Ellerslie and then heave myself and the cake that I had brought all the way up the Great South Road on foot. Under that great firey orb in the sky again.

Arriving only 45 minutes late for my first day back, all the newer employees joined with Phil and whoever else remembered me to march into the office and form a line to greet me en masse. Maybe they were curious about what this Englishman would turn out to actually be like, but I think they were just genuinely pleased to meet a new friend.

I played down the occasion, conscious of trying too hard to be funny and coming across as a bit smug.

That afternoon, as I sat in my new office facing the same old computer screen, with the same trading estate outside the window, and making the same phone calls to churches as usual, there was no longer any sense of Auckland’s glowing peace. There was nothing wrong either.

Aside from my now dud NZ SIM card, everything in my life was perfectly normal again.

The Chronicles Of Narnia: Prince Caspian

2011-03-04T23:59:00.000-08:00

Four adults in kids’ bodies board a tube train in London and are transported back to the alternate realm where they had previously all grown up.

Marvellous, that doesn’t need explaining at all.

Some follow-up movies seem to betray a certain shame of their status as a sequel. If they reference their preceding chapter too closely, then they risk alienating new viewers who haven’t seen it. After all, nobody likes to feel left out.

However The Chronicles Of Narnia: Prince Caspian doesn't stop at talking about just its prequel. Initially we get Lucy, Edmund, Peter and Susan reminiscing in the ruins of their old Narnian home, which I don’t think was even in the last film. If my memory is correct, then the risk here is of EVERYONE feeling left out.

Ultimately though, I’m afraid that, for me, the odds were well and truly stacked against this movie from the off. I’m not that into C S Lewis, it’s been almost five years since I saw The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe and, most challengingly of all, I was watching this on a tiny screen attached to the back of an aeroplane seat.

As a result I got characters mixed-up, and was thoroughly confused by much of the story, but in fairness I also knew that I was consciously not bothering to even try to follow it. Hey – that sort of apathy is what thin oxygen does to the best of us.

The fact that the big friendly lion is absent for so much of the running time didn’t really help matters either. However once Azlan had finally made his big entrance, his dialogue was so rich as to warrant my pulling down the meal tray and copying some of it out...

Lucy: “I knew it was you! The whole time I knew it! But, the others didn’t believe me.”

Azlan: “And why would that stop you from coming to me?”

Lucy: “I’m sorry. [I was] too scared to come alone. Why wouldn’t you show yourself? Why couldn’t you come warring [probably ‘roaring’ but I heard ‘warring’] in and save us like last time?”

Azlan: “Things never happen the same way twice, dear one.”

Lucy: “If I'd have come earlier, everyone who died – could I have stopped that?”

Azlan: “We can never know what would have happened, Lucy, but what will happen, is another matter entirely.”

Lucy: “[You] mean you’ll help?”

Azlan: “Of course. As also will you.”

Lucy: “Oh. [I] wish I was braver.”

Azlan: “If you were any braver, you’d be a lioness!”

Finally, after the Pevensie kids had at last made it back across reality onto their tube train, all my protests at the lack of explanation for this journey were still failing me.

After all, I’d just got on a vehicle in London too. I was also being transported back to a land where I’d once had another life. In fact, because some of this film had been shot there, some of my destination looks literally identical to the spot where the Pevensies had found themselves set down.

And I didn’t have much of an explanation for my journey either.

(with thanks to Emirates)

(available here)

Dubai Date

2011-03-04T12:00:00.000-08:00

Fig. 1: Taking off from United Arab Scalextrics.

Pages Within Borders

2011-03-03T23:59:00.001-08:00

This afternoon I went out, took the train up to London, picked up today's editions of the Evening Standard and Daily Mail newspapers, travelled back in time to the year 2009, went into Borders bookshop, and then took this photograph of myself to prove it.

The Marx Brothers - 8 Movie Collection

2011-03-02T23:59:00.000-08:00

Eight discs containing a scattergun of the iconic brothers' movies from across 20 years, many of which appear to have interchangeably irrelevant titles.

The Cocoanuts

Time has not been kind to the four Marx Brothers' attempts to run a hotel with great apathy. This 1929 film adaptation of a stage play is very strange to watch today with, tragically, just about no redeeming features.

80 years on, puns have to work harder to achieve, so the word 'viaduct' just doesn't sound enough like the phrase 'why a duck' to carry it. Much of their loud vocal projection for the stage appears to have been toned-down for the closer cameras, with the result that their anarchic personas seem kind of reserved. There are also several dance numbers, apparently, and a sub-plot that really should be the main plot.

If you try really hard to like this, I suppose it's probably possible, but likely easier with a big screen, cleaned-up audio and a crowd of people to laugh along with you. Much like in a theatre.

Disc also contains 3 brief excerpts from The Today Show of Groucho (in 1961), Harpo (in 1963) and Harpo's son William (in 1985).

Animal Crackers

This is much better, due in part to the advent of dubbing. (Coacoanuts actually had a live orchestra behind the cameras for the songs!) Both the picture and sound are much clearer, and the boys seem to have some idea what they're doing this time. They're mixed-up in an art-fraud/prank. Groucho's scattergun approach to humour delivers some great laughs, but while many of his quips stand up well, I couldn't find any scene that could really represent this film in a great light. The songs are still here breaking things up, but the dances have gone.

Monkey Business

At last the guys are starting to show some form. This is much more of a movie than the previous two, with much shorter scenes and heaps more visual humour. There's an immediacy to Groucho's verbose presence that makes me feel as though I'm watching his material live. This is much more in line with what I've been expecting.

Disc contains the same clips from The Today Show as included with The Cocoanuts.

Horse Feathers

After a slow first half, the film gets more and more pleasingly inventive. The location work looks and sounds great, with Harpo charging around in a chariot and Groucho idly strumming away to his latest intended in a boat. The final football sequence is a tremendous meshing of silent and talkie comedies, and surely original for its day. This kind of final reel surely paved the way for The Goodies, Monty Python and Vision On. Not brilliant, but fascinating.

Disc includes trailer.

Duck Soup

Already reviewed here.

Disc includes trailer.

Room Service (1938)

The brothers' only RKO comedy is their funniest yet! It's another adaptation from the stage (albeit a play that they weren't even in) but the sharp picture and sound quality make this fast-paced farce a real pleasure. The presence of such an overwhelming threat throughout works wonders for the characters' motivations and desperation too.

Love Happy

Billed on the back of the DVD as "The last official Marx Brothers Film", this is definitely a return to early form. Unfortunately, as noted above, I found their early form to be remote and a bit slow. After 20 years, the film still dwells too much on guest characters between indulging in long musical interludes.

Strangest of all is the three remaining brothers' apparent reluctance to share the screen together. Chico and Harpo just meet occasionally, while Groucho only enters the action in the final act, when I think he shares maybe two brief shots with Harpo. (he never appears in frame with Chico)

That said, there are several outstanding sequences which particularly highlight Harpo at his very best. The closing chase is nothing less than a live-action cartoon. Throw in a really formidable villain (who thanks to a sprawling plot actually wins at the end) and we have some of the brothers' finest film material ever. That the actors have aged 20 years, while their characters apparently have not, is a little odd but at least consistent.

A Girl In Every Port (1952)

Again, here's what the back of the box says:

"Screwball comedy starring Groucho Marx as a sailor embroiled in a scam involving a lame racehorse and a pair of identical twins!"

It omits to mention that said lame racehorse actually is one of those twins…

Thankfully it's another RKO comedy, co-produced by Irwin Allen, and plays like it's a movie-length version of Sergeant Bilko.

Fusing a new US serviceman character with his usual fast-talking persona, Groucho uses his brain to play umpteen factions more powerful than himself off against each other. It's a huge gambling scam where helping someone out ultimately means more to him than the money. All this and his commanding officer goes quietly mad due to witnessing crazy late-night equine goings-on through his bedroom window. Yes, Groucho's up to something!

We watched this in two halves, and such a complex plot seriously suffered for it. Although the lone Groucho is gentler here than he is when accompanied by his brothers, the whole cast is on top of their game.

Special note must go to Marie Wilson, who as the random Jane Sweet is highly reminiscent of Mary Jo Keenan as Julie Milbury in the 1990s TV sitcom Nurses. Get those two together, and this actually could have been about identical twins.

Jane: "Make sure to come in first, then be sure to win."

Overall, for me this box set collection didn't paint a great picture of these comedy legends. Although they - particularly Groucho - are today known as the definitive image of comedy, much of their material here has either dated or not been captured on film particularly well in the first place. Styles seem to have changed too, particularly the huge detours for straight musical numbers, but I find that difference in culture refreshing.

Though I have no idea if I'm right, I can't help supposing that a straight filming of their vaudeville shows might have worked better.

Still, their positive influence on comedy today is incalculable, and I'm so glad that some record of their work has survived.

The Marx Brothers will always hold a special place in my heart, but on the basis of this selection, I do think that history has sharpened their memory.

The New Mutants #38-40: Aftermath! / Pawns Of The White Queen / Avengers Assemble!

2011-03-01T06:19:00.000-08:00

Writer: Chris Claremont
Guest artist: Rick Leonardi (#38), Keith Pollard (#39)
Penciler: Jackson Guice (#40)
Inker: Bill Sienkiewicz (#38), Dell Barras (#39), Kyle Baker (#40)
Letterer: Ken Bruzenak (#38), Tom Orzechowski (#39-40)
Colorist: Glynis Oliver (#38-39), Michelle Wrightson (#40)
Editor: Ann Nocenti
Editor in chief: Jim Shooter

The fate of the New Mutants has been bugging me for some time.

In New Mutants #37 the Beyonder obliterated them all so absolutely that they were wiped from history and had never existed in the first place. Then in Secret Wars II #9 the one from beyond brought back their bodies as soulless zombies to carry out his bidding.

And that's how they were left at the end of that epic. I think.

So just how on earth did their comicbook series still manage to keep running for another 63 issues plus specials?

Well, I should have known better than to expect a straight answer from the typewriter of X-author Chris Claremont.

Here he spends three issues telling the story of their spiritual healing at the hands of their two rival teachers - Magneto and the White Queen.

Such investment really ought to result in a satisfying explanation, yet I'm afraid that, if I followed this correctly, then it just doesn't seem to all be there to be found. It's not merely that the teams' minds appear to be quietly present again at the outset, but how everyone else in the world now remembers them once more, and indeed what their school is doing back in existence, appears simply glossed over.

I've always found one of Claremont's strengths to be his willingness to spend time on his characters, giving them plenty to say and think, resulting in comicbooks which take a good deal longer to read than most. In this respect, these issues don't disappoint, which is great. However I seem to be missing so much, and the sketchy artwork doesn't help me out a great deal.

Of course, being Marvel, it may well be that I'm simply overlooking key elements from concurrent issues of sister-title The Uncanny X-Men…

All the same, that there is an explanation, be it one that I perhaps haven't properly understood, is satisfying enough from a universe which I still find enthralling.

After all, how can anyone not be excited by a world in which videophones can do the following…

Black Knight: (in his civilian identity of Dane Whitman)"The Videocom system is programmed to show our callers computer generated facsimiles of us in costume, regardless of how we really look."

Ahhh, so is that how come the New Mutants now appear to be alive and well again?

The Sound Of Music (film)

2011-02-28T05:10:00.000-08:00

What can I say about this classic that hasn’t been said already?

I mean everybody loves The Sound Of Music don't they. Even if you've never seen it in your life, you already know what it's about, who it stars, and even half the songs. I mean what else does that leave to say, huh? HUH?

Well, er, criticism I guess.

Even so, the best that I can manage is that it's very slow at the beginning, rather long throughout, and suffers from a large amount of echoing outdoors (=dubbing), but really what does that matter?

Even the story - of a nice catholic girl falling in love with a guy who she has such a major personality clash with - is hardly anything to act surprised about in a movie.

All the same, although I know that I did enjoy this in retrospect, the guilty truth is that I spent the first two hours sitting there uncomfortably checking the clock. Even at the start, it already seemed so long that I actually wanted it to say farewell.

At one stage, just after Maria and Georg had wed, it really looked as though it was all going to finally end, but - d'oh - then there was another half-an-hour. However since this wound up focusing more on gun-toting Nazis, here I have to admit that I started to take a much greater interest. (I was rooting for the von Trapp family to escape, what did you think I meant?)

In fact, having just read the Marvel Comic The Life Of Pope John Paul II #1 immediately beforehand, my whole morning was now quickly becoming about catholics vs. Nazis. They were certainly no idle Reich.

In summary, The Sound Of Music looks and sounds great all the way through, but with so little story I'm sorry to confess that it did make me feel quite restless.

So how do you solve a problem like inertia? Well, now that I have a better idea of what to expect, I have confidence that repeated viewings would probably make it all feel pleasantly familiar. Not quite one of my favourite things, but at least something good.

Yes, that sounds like music.

Available here.

The Life Of Pope John Paul II #1

2011-02-28T02:10:00.000-08:00

Writer: Steven Grant
Penciler: John Tartaglione
Inker: Joe Sinnott
Letterer: Jim Novak
Colorist: Marie Severin
Editor: Tom DeFalco
Editor-in-Chief: Jim Shooter
Consulting Editors: Father Mieczyslaw Malinski, James Salicrup
Assistant Editors: Linda Grant, Lance Tooks
Traffic Manager: Virginia Romita
Special Thanks to: Gene Pelc
Production Manager: Danny Crespi
Production: Ron Zalme, Rick Parker, John Morelli, Andy Yanchus, Joe Albelo, Rob Carosella, Harry Candelario, Bob Larkin
Editorial: Lea C Sapp, Robert Harras
Typesetting: Eliot R Brown
Interpreter: Lucy Mazareski
Additional Translations: Joseph Pelc
President: James E Galton
Publisher: Stan Lee
Vice-President, Publishing: Michael Z Hobson
Vice-President, Production: Milton Schiffman
Vice-President, Circulation: Ed Shukin

Despite the reputation that educational comics have, I found this one-shot from 1982 to be astoundingly good.

In its execution, it bears a great deal of similarity to the later Mother Teresa Of Calcutta biomic. Both feature a present-day reporter recounting their subject's life in flashback, both then show a near encounter in the present, and both close on the effect that this remarkable individual regularly has on us mortal folk.

Where the Pope's life has the edge over Mother Teresa's though, is that he lived through World War 2 in Poland. As a result, as well as his personal tragedies, we get to see this real-life superhero pitted against the oppression of the Nazis, and who among us can fail to stand beside him in that?

The bulk of these 62 pages is therefore concerned a little more with who the mild-mannered guy inside the red cape is, than merely his CV.

The result is a portrait of an everyman who, in discovering how to apply his faith to his own extraordinary situation, along the way learnt out how to apply it to others', no matter how different their individual circumstances.

Not only does Steven Grant's script pack a whole lifetime into these pages, but John Tartaglione and Joe Sinnot's art positively shines throughout. This guy is easily recognisable as the famous pontiff throughout his long life, and even as a baby you can't mistake the man who little Karol Wojtyla is to one day become.

This one-off comic is supposed to have sold millions of copies worldwide, doubtless because of the popularity of its star, however I have to wonder just how much of that was due to the quality of the actual comic?

Available here.

Vortex - The Big Finish Magazine #24

2011-02-27T01:30:00.000-08:00

Latest free advertising periodical for Big Finish's range of sci-fi audio stories on CD.

Well, I say sci-fi. One of the big plugs in this issue is for a new range of more down-to-earth productions entitled Drama Showcase. That this is such a big deal highlights the huge success that the team has had with its more Doctor Who-related range over the past decade, not that things are looking very run-of-the-mill with those either, apparently. Paul McGann's Eighth Doctor Adventures for BBC Radio 7 is coming to a close after four seasons, and with it a now long-running companion is leaving.

Oh, and the editorial says that Tom Baker's finally coming on board! Woo-hoo!

Clearly designed to hold onto existing customers rather than hook new ones in, it's encouraging to read of so many people obviously enjoying their work, and customers who apparently feel the same way.

Available to read online here.

Josie and the Pussycats

2011-02-26T23:59:00.000-08:00

40!

2011-02-26T23:58:00.000-08:00

Doctor Who: 16th National Television Awards

2011-02-23T23:59:00.000-08:00

Barking pre-filmed sketch to open the above ceremony, featuring the eleventh Doctor's repeated attempts to transport presenter Dermot O'Leary to the opening on time, via TARDIS.

O'Leary seems a surprising choice of guest-star. Ten years ago I was hearing various negative reports regarding the condescension with which he would routinely introduce any science-fiction show on T4. (Angel, Babylon 5 and Enterprise if I recall correctly) Still, even if merited, those complaints were a decade ago now.

Here he seems to make his peace with the genre however, although one has to wonder just how much of this is down to Doctor Who's return having made science-fiction cool in the UK again. The former Big Brother presenter plays himself extremely well, and there's nothing about him here not to like. This then might just be the first thing he's done that British SF fans have felt permitted to enjoy.

But let's not forget the rest of the creative team here. The frantic pace, smart script and enthusiasm of both leads make these four minutes a rollercoaster of fun, as again and again the bumbling eleventh Doctor drops O'Leary off in the wrong TV show. Even Graham Norton gets in yet again! I'm mightily relieved that, 100 years in the future, BBC Television Centre hasn't been sold off after all.

Although transmitted after A Christmas Carol, at time of writing this entry makes more sense just before it, while Amy and Rory are still away on their honeymoon as per the preceding Death Of The Doctor.

Except of course that this madcap short is obviously not canon, it's all just too silly. Then again, that's what we all assumed 20 years ago about the chaotic telethon sketch Dimensions In Time, and look how prophetic that fuzzy style turned out to be...

Today's celebrity Bible-reader is... Jamie Oliver

2011-02-23T13:00:00.000-08:00

Get a large bowl. Then mix together wheat, barley, beans, lentils, and millet, and make some bread.

- Ezekiel 4:9a (CEV)

2011-02-22T03:32:00.000-08:00

Space Jam

2011-02-20T05:00:00.000-08:00

One of those rare team-ups which, like Frank Sinatra and Bono, you would never in a million years otherwise think of: Looney Tunes and basketball.

Indeed, if you entered the cinema at just about any moment during the first third of this, within moments you'd probably be wondering if the projectionist had accidentally spliced two entirely different films together.

In some scenes, Michael Jordan stars in a cynical modern-day drama about himself throwing-in basketball to pursue his lifelong dream of a career in baseball.

In others... well it's Looney Tunes, but with a lower frame-rate and somewhat different voices.

When the two genres finally meet, the film at last gains some, uh, legs, and the whole thing becomes a fluffy tribute to the US sporting celebrities of the day. Over 20 (for me) complete strangers line up to play themselves in here, ensuring that it's either lost or gained something since its release in 1996.

Despite its pedigree, this is another Looney Tunes outing which flatly ignores the contemporary casts of Tiny Toons, Animaniacs etc., which is a shame given the amount of respect which those shows routinely paid to the classic characters here.

Space Jam also wants to be a lot funnier than I found it, but the occasional line did still get me laughing.

Daffy: "Just how did you get here, anyway?"
Bill Murray: "Producer's a friend of mine."

Mr. Swackhammer: "Whoa, whoa, whoa! I didn't know Dan Aykroyd was in this picture!"

Psychic: "I see aliens. Little aliens from outer space. They forced their way inside your bodies. They need your talent to win a basketball game against Bugs Bunny. I also see Michael Jordan being sucked down a golf hole by furry creatures."
Unknown famous client: "That's it, we're going."

It might be a fun movie if you love basketball, but probably not if you're into the Looney Tunes who, it can't be avoided, are just not on form here.

Still, a pleasant way to pass 88 minutes, and even better, it ultimately gave us the fantastic sequel Back In Action!

Available here.

The Birds (film)

2011-02-14T04:30:00.000-08:00

Someone at ITV must have been having a laugh when they scheduled this famous Hitchcock horror on Valentine's Day.

I mean, in some ways it's an anti love-movie. Boy and girl meet. Boy and girl fall in love. Boy and girl get pecked to bits by crows.

Alfred Hitchcock is famously known as "The Master Of Suspense", yet to watch this 1963 film in 2011, you have to wonder why today's producers don't venture to take a few more leaves out of his book.

The Birds features strong characters, fantastic acting and beautiful photography. These ingredients should make for compelling viewing on their own, but I think the reason why they soar in this is because they are so well enhanced by two further ingredients:

1. An unusual story.

2. No incidental music, which makes the whole thing feel extremely believable.

Granted, a few of the effects haven’t aged so well, but plenty of others had me quickly giving up wondering how they were done.

The narrative does suffer from a few instances of characters heading off into danger purely so that they can then get attacked for the next couple of minutes, but the film's other strong elements easily overcome these conceits.

The whole thing also ends very abruptly without any explanation of events, which on the one hand feels lazy and dissatisfying, but on the other left me with plenty to think about.

It's easy to watch any well-liked movie and join others in gushing about how wonderful it all is. It's equally easy to knock those who do so in order to feign superiority over them.

However I've now reviewed over 250 films on this blog, and this one has gotta be in the top ten.

Elvis Love Songs

2011-02-14T02:00:00.000-08:00

Free with The Mail On Sunday a few weeks ago, this represents a bona fide compilation album of Elvis' songs about his favourite subject.

I'm not sure quite why rights holders give their approval for freebies like this. If you already have a free album of a particular artist's most famous love songs, then why would you go out and buy another one?

Not that I'm complaining. Even to those of us who remain single this Valentine's Day, Elvis' croonings contain a sense of humour that somehow lifts even the sad ones up to a level of fun.

If you're both single and a cheapskate, then this is definitely an album with which to both celebrate Valentine's Day, and sidestep its consumerism.

Track listing:

1. It's Now Or Never
2. Are You Lonesome Tonight?
3. Heartbreak Hotel
4. One Night
5. I Need Your Love Tonight
6. (Now and Then) There's A Fool Such As I
7. As Long As I Have You
8. Any Way You Want Me (That's How I Will Be)
9. Love Me
10. Blue Moon
11. True Love
12. Have I Told You Lately That I Love You?
13. I Love You Because
14. I Don't Care If The Sun Don't Shine
15. I'm Counting On You

Sound Of Superman™ - 14 Incredible Originals and Powerful Covers Honoring the Legend of Superman™

2011-02-13T04:01:00.000-08:00

Every Christmas I hide all of the presents that I've bought in the same place.

I won't tell you where - that would defeat the purpose. You'll just have to imagine it from the description in the next two paragraphs.

So, just before the Christmas just gone, I dutifully emptied said top secret hideaway of gifts to begin wrapping them up. However, then I thought I'd better double-check, just to make certain that I hadn't left some forgotten item behind. So, I once again thrust my arm back into the darkness, scrabbled around a bit, and found my hand alighting upon a suspiciously unfamiliar plastic bag.

Now without giving too much away, the bag itself was just too big to extract in one go, so instead I slid my out-of-sight fingers inside it, and found myself feeling… a CD?

Now this was odd. I had no recollection of buying anyone in my family any CDs for Christmas, other than the ones which I had already removed and accounted for, so what the heck could this thing be? Wrangling it from the bag, I retracted my hand and gasped...

It had a Sounds price tag on it, had come out of a Sounds carrier bag, and coincidentally enough was entitled:

"Sound Of Superman™ - 14 Incredible Originals and Powerful Covers Honoring the Legend of Superman™"

Well, I just stood there for about a minute, gawping at it. That's what we TV characters do while we're having those flashbacks that the rest of you get to watch in the third person.

As far as I was concerned, the first and last time that I had seen this CD had been when I had briefly examined it in the old Sounds branch in Botany in 2007, back when they had been doing their whole closing-down stock-clearance thing.

Now, on the basis of the evidence, I was forced to suppose that I must have bought this for best mate Herschel, brought it back home, and then forgotten all about it. For the whole of the next three years.

Oops, sorry Herschel.

There can't be many superheroes who have had an entire album recorded in their honour (or honor), so if any of them deserve it, then I guess Superman would have to be top of the list.

Not that the big names of rock exactly lined-up to play on here. I'd like to say that we instead have a diverse collection of different styles each paying their own tribute to the man of steel in their own unique way, but the fact is that the album maintains a steady grunge tone throughout. Two of the tracks even have the same fairly generic title of just Superman.

Not that any of that is really a criticism. This is one of those wallpapery albums whose consistency ensures that it can be happily left to run in the background while you're getting on with something else. (like wrapping)

One exception would be Meet Me At My Window by Jack's Mannequin, which allows the collection to breathe a bit with a breezy style somewhere between classical and easy listening. Also Royal's Braniac's Daughter, which is batty and poppy like it's also paying tribute to Superman's pal Paul McCartney.

This whole 2006 release looks like it really wants to be a more obvious tie-in to the Superman Returns film of the same year, complete with foreword by that movie's director Bryan Singer, and final track by the sister of its star Brandon Routh. However for me I'm afraid that, overall, the love didn't really come through.

"Superman on an aeroplane,
Sitting next to Lois Lane,
You got that woman but you want her gone,
So you can sleep with a teenage blonde"

Like the movie, a bit bleak.

At time of writing, Herschel hasn't yet told me what he thinks of his 2010 Christmas gift, which I told him I'd gone out and bought specially. Well, maybe I should have removed the bag.

I might have got something for it on trademe.

Track listing:

1. Superman - The Academy Is...
2. It's So Easy - Plain White T's
3. (Wish I Could Fly Like) Superman - The Sun
4. The Worst Part... - Motion City Soundtrack
5. Sunshine Superman - The Films
6. Save Me - Maxeen
7. My Hero - Paramore
8. The Rescue - American Hi-Fi
9. Saved - The Spill Canvas
10. Meet Me At My Window - Jack's Mannequin
11. Waitin' For A Superman - Nightmare of You
12. Superman - The Receiving End Of Sirens
13. Brainiac's Daughter - Royal
14. You're Never Gone - Sara Routh

Available to sample and buy here.

Iron Man 2

2011-02-06T02:00:00.000-08:00

If you've already seen Iron Man, then this follow-up is very consistent with it. On the other metallic hand, if you didn't see Iron Man, then you'll probably find little reason to sympathise with this film's central arrogant character of Tony Stark.

For this is quite definitely a sequel.

Some sequels work very hard to better their inspiration's popularity. (eg. Spider-Man 2) Others relax and depend upon it. (eg. The X-Files: I Want To Believe)

This one falls into the latter section.

However, although Iron Man 2 runs on lower-powered batteries, I find these slower-running movies to be such a pleasant relief from the usual superhero chaos. The scene in which Vanko attacks Stark while racing at the Circuit de Monaco has the heavy pace of real time, even if said bad guy does take so long that he seems to actually want to lose.

Funnyman Garry Shandling turns in a great performance as Senator Stern, but in so doing breaks the film's believability, unlike Larry King's appearance as Stan Lee, which is only a cameo:

However the biggest problem I had here was Stark's father having hidden details of a new element in some model buildings, without apparently even knowing why his son would one day need it. Surely I must be missing something there...

By sticking to its source material, Iron Man 2 fails to reproduce its originality, however since the first one was so good, that's not such a bad plan, Stan.

Available here.
(with thanks to Alistair)

Doctor Who: A Christmas Carol

2011-02-04T23:59:00.000-08:00

For a story that has been so openly lifted from elsewhere, I found this refreshingly original.

There's a spaceship about to crash on an alien planet, a disaster which the local Scrooge character refuses to avert because... well, because he's the local Scrooge character. Making the connection between the current festive season and the famous book by Charles Dickens, the Doctor has one hour in which to literally confront Kazran Sardick with his past, present and future in order to change his mind.

But not by simply whisking the old moaner around in the TARDIS. That would be too easy.

Instead the Doctor himself flits back and forth throughout the guy's whole life, tweaking events all over the place in order to nurture, or maybe manipulate, the man who he will ultimately become.

This is reflected throughout by our constant cutting back to Kazran in his updating present, as he watches past events re-unfold not just in his videos, photos and paintings, but also apparently his own memory.

The ease with which the Doctor keeps popping back to the old man for information, sometimes for just one sentence, reflects just how prolific the Doctor has at last become at travelling in time. Forget rules about non-interference, changing ones' own history, or even meeting oneself - the eleventh Doctor has a time-machine and he's going to use it, so there. That we never even see him making these journeys, but rather just cut to him already in each new location and time, just makes the whole thing fly along.

Throw in really excellent performances from everyone (especially Laurence Belcher as young Kazran), the beautiful singing of Katherine Jenkins, and no end of funny dialogue, and we have the greatest Doctor Who story in years. This is what I've been saying these guys are capable of!

Perhaps the aspect that most impressed me here was, paradoxically, that this misty steampunk world was nothing like Doctor Who, old or new. Although there's a Disney-esque sequence in the middle with the Doctor, young Kazran and Abigail soaring through the clouds Santa-style in a cart pulled by a giant flying fish (shark, dolphin, whatever), for the most part this felt much more like an indie movie. Specifically, like The City Of Lost Children, which as I said in my review I found far less comprehensible.

So, after all that praise, here's where I segue into what for me were the 2010 Christmas special's shortcomings:

1. The picture quality is possibly the worst in the show's 31-series history. Black-and-white telerecordings from the 1960s look clearer than this, and on occasion contain more colour. Made in 'high definition'? You must be joking.

2. The dialogue needs recording clearer to stand any chance against the almighty incidental music. The booms are dying out there.

3. The almighty incidental music. Please turn this off for at least two-thirds of the programme, so that we can hear what the characters are saying to each other and develop some empathy with them. Sorry Murray Gold, you're a good musician and all, but the show would actually be better off if you were let go and not replaced. That's no reflection on you, you work hard, far too hard in fact. They should give you breaks. Like, whenever someone speaks. Alternatively, bearing in mind points one and two, how about keeping the great music and getting rid of the picture and dialogue?

4. Amy and Rory both wear costumes which, according to the preceding episode, they cannot possibly have with them.

5. In this story, while an hour passes for Amy and Rory, about a week passes for the Doctor and Abigail, and a lifetime passes for Kazran. Thanks to the TARDIS, this is all well and good, except that old Kazran seems to witness the Doctor's changes unfolding in his memory in real time.

For example, as we see young Kazran enter the TARDIS, we also see old Kazran wondering out loud the same question about its size, apparently unable to recall the Doctor's answer until 'after' he has spoken it in the past and created that memory. Well, that's the way it looks to me. So on that basis, as maybe a week passes for the Doctor and cumulatively for Kazran's many younger incarnations, so a week of remembering ought to pass for old Kazran too.

It is also hinted however that old Kazran has his memory updated in chunks. The total changes of each journey that the Doctor makes could be recalled by Kazran in a separate instant. For example, old Kazran seems aware of the Doctor's imminent attack by the giant fish, before the narrative has shown us this, but this isn't made explicit either.

Basically the script could have been clearer regarding which dynamic the laws of time were following this episode.

6. Just while we're here, obviously old Kazran shouldn't continue to remember any version of his life which the Doctor has overwritten, including his many subsequent meetings with the Time Lord in the present.

For example, by the end of the episode, the Doctor's first chronological meeting with old Kazran would have changed to one of being recognised by him, and assisted immediately. The Doctor would also have changed his own history and memories, and not had any reason to go back and change any of Kazran's life. They should at least each recall different versions of this 'first' encounter.

But hey, it's science FICTION, and I'd love to see this state of limbo flux explored by this author more. Go on, Steven Moffat, make this idea work. We all know you can.

7. When, towards the story's end, the Doctor realises that he has changed history so much that Kazran's machine no longer recognises him, it should actually have updated along with the rest of history. Kazran's dad would have programmed it for the man who Kazran was now to become.

8. Big problem this - when the Doctor moots releasing Abigail from cryo to spend the final day of her life singing, he also suddenly forgets that he has a time-machine. Doh! Even with young Kazran there, it still never occurs to him to borrow her from an earlier point in her life, or even to go back in time and just record her voice. I don't mind the programme makers wanting to give the story an emotional punch at the end, but I do mind them breaking the rules of the very same episode to do it. They could easily have had the exhausted TARDIS overheat or something to remove that option.

9. He doesn't take the dying Abigail to the hospital in New Earth to get better either. Yes, I know that if he did then he would have to also do so for every character who dies in every story ever, but given the freedom with which he wields the TARDIS in this one, I thought it noticed.

Overall though, wonderful. It was even set on an alien planet!

I may have missed watching this on Christmas Day, but for me this made a fantastic 40th birthday special instead.

Toy Story / Toy Story 2 / Toy Story 3

2011-01-31T18:00:00.000-08:00

So, is there anyone who doesn't like Toy Story?

I first came across it in January 1996, on a VHS cassette while working at the BBC. The comp tape contained about an hour of trailers for all the upcoming movies that would be released throughout that year, and Toy Story grabbed me immediately. (NB. The tape had come free with Empire magazine)

That was a definitive example of advertising doing its job on me. I duly went to see the film at the cinema, loved every single frame of it, and like so many other 25-year-olds (or thereabouts) bought the full-length VHS of it for my mum at Christmas.

She loved it too.

For me, the one and only fly in the ointment of that first movie was Tim Allen as Buzz Lightyear. Not to subtract anything from Mr Allen's achievements, but he spent the entire film doing an impression of William Shatner. If that's what the director wanted, then surely a better choice would have been William Shatner?

(Allen continued this career-path in Galaxy Quest and Buzz Lightyear Of Star Command, which even included Shatner himself singing!)

In 1999 Toy Story 2 came out, and I was determined to make sure that I saw it properly. I think I'm right in saying that it was the first full-length movie to be wholly realised on computer. By this I mean that even the version I had watched of Toy Story 1 had been projected from a film print, but 2 was actually showing in the first and then only UK cinema to have a digital projector. The big one in Leicester Square, London.

It was a funny peculiar thing - I knew that there could be no possible blemish anywhere in the image, so obviously I just had to look for it anyway.

Since all my friends knew what a love I had of the film medium, it was with some irony that I had to admit afterwards that the crisp digital motion picture had actually drawn a tear from me, although I think that was more down to Disney. Jessie's previous owner - so sad.

Ten years on, in a country full of cinemas with digital projectors, I was similarly determined to experience Toy Story 3 in 3D. I was gutted to have missed the 3D re-releases of the first two, but kept checking the IMAX listings just to make sure that I hadn't missed out on seeing the threequel in the best possible version.

Well, I wound up leaving it too late for that as well.

On 16th October last year I bumped into Perry on the last train home. After disembarking, I told him that I was going to see Toy Story 3 that week. He asked me why I - a 39-year-old - was going to see a kids’ film. I said that it was actually a family film. He said that that was what the film-makers wanted me to think. I said “Getting older should enable you to do more things, not less. You should never lose the ability to enjoy a Disney movie.” He acquiesced. I never saw him again.

Two days later I sat in a theatre in Wandsworth, alone but for two small families somewhere behind me, and settled down to enjoy what I'd been waiting a decade for - another crazy adventure with Woody, Buzz and the rest.

It was everything I'd hoped for, and it was a long time before I got around to starting on my snacks. It amazes me that they can command moments of such powerful drama using a story about plastic toys, approximated on a computer.

Early this year we watched it again on my mum's latest DVD, and I still loved every moment of it, including the elements that had passed me by in the cinema, like their all getting to be played with by Andy one last time.

Let's be honest here, in different hands this trilogy could all have been so bland and unimaginative. How easy would it have been last century to knock off a script about toys simply going to work, getting married and having kids? Such shallow fables were not for Pixar in this instance, who instead sat down and worked out three comedy-dramas based around the specific issues encountered by being a toy. Nothing patronising to anyone here. Just original stories which everyone can believe in.

After all the last decade's advances in technology, this evening I found myself standing in HMV watching 3's start all over again, but this time on Blu-Ray. Not that it should really have noticed, given that some of the opening is a home video sequence, featuring cameos from Weezy and Bo Peep! There's a lot of detail in Dr Porkshops' spaceship. Not so sure about the jittery background whenever the 'camera' moves though.

I hope that Pixar do one day perfect a film called Toy Story 4, and if we're really lucky, maybe this time it'll all be in 16k Showscan.

Available here.

New Zealand - Kiwi Country (VHS)

2011-01-31T02:24:00.000-08:00

This afternoon I watched the above hour-long tourist VHS which belongs to one of my many good friends called David.

Since he's been to NZ three times while I've been five, we spent most of this crowing "been there" in a joint attempt to between us nail the entire travelogue. However, once I started falling back on "watched a home video of there" (Rotorua), "seen a poster of there" (Milford Sound), "left a message on the church's answerphone there" (Picton), I knew that for me it had all gone south.

We did quite well, quite well, but I guess that when you live somewhere, you never really get to visit it.

The Sarah Jane Adventures - season 4 overview

2011-01-29T20:57:00.000-08:00

I think this has been quite an even season.

I haven't found any of the stories to be particularly good this year, however the really bad plots have at least had some redeeming features to them. Death Of The Doctor was a pig of a story, but great fun. Lost In Time made no effort over plotting, and had little else going for it, but at least its other aspects weren't as bad.

There has, at long last, been a move away from zombie-led stories this season. Hopefully next series this trend will continue, and some of the incessant music will go too.

The final story - Goodbye, Sarah Jane Smith - suffers from the same problem that last year's Wedding Of Sarah Jane Smith did, specifically that Ruby needed to have been introduced a few stories earlier for her reveal to mean anything. It's a missed opportunity that the absence of Luke (and K9) this series have actually left a spare role for another character to fill, which could have been ideal for Ruby. Mind you, I've also found the trio of Sarah, Clyde and Rani to make the show more focussed too.

Individual episode reviews:

The Nightmare Man
The Vault Of Secrets
Death Of The Doctor
The Empty Planet
Lost In Time
Goodbye, Sarah Jane Smith

The Sarah Jane Adventures: Goodbye, Sarah Jane Smith

2011-01-29T04:57:00.000-08:00

Another generic title, which could refer to pretty well any SJA story.

Sarah: "What are you doing here?"

Ruby: "Saving the world! All a day's work. Goodbye!"

Sarah: "No wait! Who are you?"

Clyde: "She's exactly like you."

Yes, Clyde actually does have just the one sentence from Ruby upon which to base this analysis.

Okay, so there's also a small explosion following which he sees her drive off, but it's still a pretty big leap if you ask me.

After such quick plot-setting, this story then looks to be a plodding instalment in which Ruby hilariously turns out to be just like Sarah, and indeed much of part one is accordingly slow. As Ruby's successes escalate, Sarah's mental condition does the opposite. By the cliffhanger Ruby even has Sarah's house, friends and vocation. It's identity theft to the nth degree.

Nice to see the word "Auckland" getting a mention too.

Part two is a much more complex web, with Luke, Clyde, Rani, Mr Smith and K9 all working together to spring Sarah and defeat the villain.

As is the sort of thing that happens rather a lot in modern Who, everyone on the entire planet, including you, gets attacked by holographic falling meteors. It's a ruse to make them all terrified and overload the villains' plan, just like in Death Of The Doctor three weeks earlier. Hopefully all the people with heart conditions were indoors. (I do wish they'd think these throwaway notions through a bit)

Overall, I didn't find the plot to be anything special, but compared with the usual chaos, any story which roughly holds together in SJA is guaranteed to stand out. A shame they couldn't quite figure out what to do about Sarah's son Luke.

If The Sarah Jane Adventures was this well written every week, it'd be just about okay. Not anything special, just okay.

Today's celebrity Bible-reader is... Jack Harkness

2011-01-28T05:35:00.000-08:00

I will still be the same
when you are old and grey

- Isaiah 46:4a (CEV)

The Sarah Jane Adventures: Lost In Time

2011-01-26T20:28:00.000-08:00

While putting together these reviews, two of my angles are always:

a) to be honest, and

b) to be positive.

This story is a real challenge though. To be honest, I found the script relentlessly lazy throughout. To be positive, I have to find something that I thought was at the very least above-average.

I'm sincerely sorry, I got nothing.

So what do I do - say how wonderful it all is, and lie? Or admit how terrible I think it is, rant, and become an agent of misery in the world? Even striking a balance is going to be ugly.

Maybe I should just say nothing? Well that's running away from it. All right, I'll cite a few quick examples of why none of it worked for me and then I'll get me coat.

Where shall I start? Well, right in the opening shot the story scores it first own-goal.

That doesn't look anything like a shop. Flats or offices maybe.

At the top of the building is a very old sign which reads "Smalley And Co. Antiques". Who 'Mr Smalley' is is never even explained, let alone what he's doing apparently owning an antique shop for maybe 100 years, which he appears to abandon to squatters when he simply dematerialises and leaves at the end, again without any explanations.

"The shopkeeper" is a well-spoken, enigmatic, eccentric English Doctor Who stereotype, who'd work well played by Tom Baker. He even already knows who Sarah Jane is. He's gone to all the trouble of faking the above news article in order to get her and her friends into his ~~flat~~ shop instead of, say, maybe just phoning them up.

Anyway, here he is in a rare moment of being candid.

Shopkeeper: "I need your help to save the world. Time itself is under threat."

Sarah: "From what?"

Shopkeeper: "Chronosteen - a metal forged within the time vortex with the power to reshape destiny. Three pieces of it moulded into different objects are lodged at key points in the Earth's history. They must be recovered."

We never find out who did this, or why, or how its non-recovery means that "time itself is under threat", even though this threat drives the entire story. Even the threat to present-day Earth in part two is something he causes, rather than averts.

Rani: "What objects? Where in history?"

Shopkeeper: "Could be anything, anywhere."

Wrong.

At the end of the story the shopkeeper reveals that he has all along had a flight-case containing perfect moulds for the items to sit within, specifically a hammer, a dagger and a key.

As for being "anywhere" in history, they turn out to all be in the last 600 years, in England.

Sarah: "Well, good luck with that."

Shopkeeper: "But you are the only ones who can do this! You're the Earth's last hope."

Sarah: "Well even if I believe you, how can we possibly find this chronosteen?"

Shopkeeper opens an apathetically-named time-window.

Shopkeeper: "This is a time-window, Sarah Jane, it will take you close to the objects."

Clyde: "If you can create that, why can't you go yourself?"

Shopkeeper: "It is forbidden for me to travel through time, but you can."

He never tells us who he is, who has forbidden him, why or how.

After this the Shopkeeper forces them through the time-window and back into history, before turning over a sand-glass and replying to his parrot...

Shopkeeper: "That's right Captain, they have until the sands run out, or this world is doomed."

Now don't you think that the Shopkeeper really should have told this little detail to the agents who he was sending back in time to do his bidding? Sarah, Clyde and Rani have no idea that they even have a deadline. They don't even know how to recognise the chronosteen, let alone have any idea how to use them to travel back to the present.

The next thing that happens is the opening credits to part one.

My problems with this 'story' are that intensive.

The rest of this Into The Labyrinth remake features each of our heroes materialising in recent English history, narrating their internal monologue out loud, and having very little care to whom they reveal that they've come from the future.

Shopkeeper: "...and the sands have almost run through!" (No they haven't - look at it!) "If Sarah Jane and her friends do not return soon, they'll be trapped in the past... forever!"

Funny, I thought that "time itself" was somehow "under threat".

Clyde and Rani's segments both pit them against murderers taking over England. In Clyde's case this means Nazis, but they are just a metaphor for Daleks.

Sarah on the other hand, despite what the Shopkeeper said above, misses the object by about a century, and instead meets a ghost hunter called Emily investigating dying ghost-children from the future who have it.

Now this idea does sound promising, just as it did in Torchwood: To The Last Man.

However, Emily's mother happens to have died in "exactly" the same way nine weeks earlier, so in order to interact with the ghosts and save their lives, all she has to do is focus on that common fear.

Eventually they save the kids' lives and congratulate themselves on a job well done, despite having still doomed the kids' house and contents. Neither Sarah nor Emily remember that they have the power to speak to the ghosts and run the haunting at will, due to having earlier committed the cardinal time-travel sin of rewinding time by moving a clock's hands backwards. (clocks are machines which have nothing to do with time)

Even the recap at the start of part two is so rushed that it's unintelligible.

This is what I call "an annual story". Not because they churn one out a year, but it smacks of those terrible stories in TV-tie-in annuals when I was a kid, which usually betrayed little knowledge of the series it was based on, and even less love for it.

With such generic elements, few explanations, and shallow dialogue, this filled the required 50 minutes, but offered no reason for spending them by watching this. Even the throwaway title Lost In Time could be an episode of anything.

Well, I've been honest for long enough, so now it's time to muster just a brief paragraph of being positive.

After all, without trying to sound snide, failings by definition reveal room for improvement, so this must have tons of potential.

For example, just who was the Shopkeeper and/or Mr Smalley? What exactly was he trying to save Earth from, and why? Why has he been forbidden to travel in time, and by who?

Most inspiring of all, just who on Earth is his parrot?

I'd genuinely love to know, and so I think would most of the kids who watched this.

Sarah: "Well, good luck with that."

Today's celebrity Bible-reader is… Marvin The Paranoid Android

2011-01-26T06:04:00.000-08:00

I feel awful,

terribly miserable.

- Isaiah 24:16b (CEV)

Today's celebrity Bible-reader is... Professor Zaroff

2011-01-26T04:57:00.000-08:00

No one can stop me now!

- Isaiah 14:27b (CEV)

Tron: Legacy

2011-01-26T02:47:00.000-08:00

If CGI technology had been around in 1982, then this is probably the film that would have got made.

Tron: Legacy shuns the very notion of pandering to a modern-day audience, and shamelessly goes straight for 1980s fashions, icons, music and even TV aspect-ratios.

Oh, and if you've never seen or don't remember the original, then don't worry because that made very little sense either.

For those of us who grew up in that era, Tron: Legacy is an absolutely gorgeous way to spend two hours. I turned my brain off at the start, and positively wallowed in the cool laser effects, synthesised soundtrack and early two-tone computer graphics. It didn't just look great - it sounded great too! This was how, as a teenager, I believed the future of computers was actually going to look and sound - everything multiplied except for the level of definition.

I mean okay so all the virtual computer systems speak with stunted dialogue while the virtual people don't. All right so they have guns and bombs but still fight by throwing discs at each other. And I don't even want to ask why Kevin had that power to attract his enemy and destroy everything for all these years but never used it.

(I could go on. And on. And on...)

Basically a deeper script here could have ruined everything.

Sam: "You went in?"
Kevin: "That's right. I got in."

Just imagine if they'd handed this over to someone like The Matrix's Wachowski brothers for the final draft. Just how ponderous, miserable and cynical could these 127 minutes of joy have instead been?

Neo: "You went in?"
Oracle: "Oh honey, what are in and out but abstract concepts which limit our understanding of ourselves and the version of reality in which each of us chooses to believe?"
Neo: "Whoa, totally far out, Oracklees-babe."

That said, I liked the idea of life emerging from lifelessness against all our heroes' expectations to the contrary, but this was mainly because I think that aspect of the theory of evolution is science-fiction anyway.

Like its predecessor, Tron: Legacy may lack substance, but is once again definitely a movie with style.

Available here.

The Searchers (film)

2011-01-24T06:00:00.000-08:00

Ethan (John Wayne) and Martin (Jeffrey Hunter) spend years searching the desert for a young relative who's been kidnapped by the Comanche Indians who also murdered her family.

Although Ethan knows their enemies' ways inside out, he's hampered by his disastrous people skills, which combined with the appalling nature of the atrocity made me hate him all the way through. The result was two hours that had me riveted right to the end, even despite the film's vague timeframes, theatrical acting and occasional studio set of the great outdoors.

There are also some farcical tendencies that increasingly creep in, such as Martin's giving away a rug and accidentally getting married, however even she shortly suffers a bloody fate.

I'm not quite sure why The Searchers is regarded as such a classic. It has strong themes, an unusually mean lead-character and breathtaking locations, but nothing that I found to be especially great film-making. Maybe the fact that we really do get to go on the journey with those two antagonistic leads has alot to do with it.

Available here.

The Leather Nun and Other Incredibly Strange Comics by Paul Gravett & Peter Stanbury

2011-01-24T02:30:00.000-08:00

If there's one thing that enthusiasts of any subject will get frustrated by, then it's got to be the simplicity with which the rest of the world perceives their subject.

Comicbooks are a pretty good example. I might be wrong myself, but I think most people who are not into comics mistake its superhero subset for the entire genre.

This might just be the book to buy those people.

Across these 127 pages, Paul Gravett and Peter Stanbury trawl the history of the format to dig up the weirdest, wildest and most literally incredible comicbooks that over the years have bucked popularity and done their own thing.

There are the groundbreaking ones, such as Canadian Shane Simmons' The Long And Unlearned Life Of Roland Gethers, which for its entire 80 pages presents all the characters as tiny black dots in the distance.

There are the foreign mutations, such as Italy's version of Superman Nembo Kid, who jogs everywhere and sports a patch of yellow on his chest where his 'S' has been necessarily removed.

And then there are those officially-licensed one-shots advertising a particular message, such as Popeye and Olive Oil extolling the virtues of beginning a career in hairdressing.

Perhaps inevitably though, the majority of the publications featured here seem to be sexual fantasies from the comicbook underworld. Many of these were intentionally made for fun, and perhaps therefore shouldn't qualify as 'strange'. On the other hand, Justin Green's 1972 Binky Brown Meets The Holy Virgin Mary seems to be a personal confession of the author's traumatic OCD while growing up in a particularly strict catholic school.

This reference work only goes into a little detail regarding each of the publications that it covers, generally presenting the cover artwork opposite a panel, a quote and a brief write-up on the facing page.

There are some references in the back detailing where a few of these gems can now be tracked down today, but on the whole it's only a good idea to read this book if you're happy to never hear any more about these lost oddities.

After all, much of the joy of coming across 'new' comics is selecting which ones to then read.

(available under another title here)
(with thanks to Herschel)

Mary Poppins (film) / The Cat Who Looked At A King

2011-01-23T06:00:00.002-08:00

Boom: "How are things in the world of finance?"

Banks: "Never better. Money's sound, credit rates are moving up-up-up, and the British pound is the admiration of the world."

Give that man an offensively large bonus!

As far as most of the world is concerned, Disney's 1964 studio-bound effects movie Mary Poppins starred the lovely Julie Andrews.

In the UK however, everyone considers it to have starred Dick Van Dyke.

This is not due to any perceived shortcoming on Ms Andrews' part. Rather, it's because Mr Van Dyke's performance contains a shortcoming so unavoidable that it overshadows the entire 139 minutes.

Ask anyone from the UK what this is, and they'll all tell you the same thing: it's his English accent.

For Dick cockernies 'is way through the 'ole pickcha, guv, but never once cams ennywhere close tah spoutin' Queen Vic's bloomin' Inglish, see? (Gawd blesser)

In fact, so prolific is his astounding misuse of the dialect, that he has actually added to the language the phrase "a Dick Van Dyke accent", which denotes a terrible approximation of the English dialect, usually by an American.

Dick Van Dyke himself has never lived this down. Even last year, appearing on National Public Radio on October 23rd, the American presenter still charged him to explain himself.

Interviewer: "What is your defence sir?"

Dick Van Dyke: "They got me a coach who was Irish."

Having sat down and watched the movie last Monday morning, the whole reputation is, I feel, unwarranted. The reason why I say this is because if Dick Van Dyke does not do a credible English accent anywhere in the film, then his character therefore cannot be from England.

Quite where this incarnation of 'Bert' does hail from is then anyone's guess, as said accent doesn't sound like any other one that I have ever come across either. It's definitely not the exaggerated cockerney that I suggested three paragraphs ago though, which is a shame.

Anyway, in case you think that this highly enjoyable aspect of the film is the only one that stood out to me, you're right. After all, amongst all the spell-binding visual effects (opticals still wipe the floor with CGI) and catchy songs, what is less well-celebrated is that Dick Van Dyke actually plays a dual role.

Seriously - he's the head of the bank in tons of old make-up too. You can tell it's him by the way he walks. He's just itching to slip up and knock things over. The man can't help but exude entertainment, and it's tragic that this hilarious old fool never gets to meet his doppelgänger, but instead dies towards the end of the story. (personally, I diagnose murder)

However, watching the film purely to enjoy the actors' multiple personalities (actually several of the cast double-up) is a, heh-heh, double-edged sword, for Mary Poppins has a little-known sequel, which Julie Andrews returned for, but without her joyously enunciating co-star.

The Cat Who Looked At A King is a curious 10-minute short produced for the 2004 release of the original on DVD. (NB. "DVD" stands for "Digital Versatile Disc", not "Dick Van Dyke") This features Poppins returning to Bert's chalk drawings with a couple of new kids and presenting the wraparounds to a cartoon therein about a cat outsmarting a king.

With computer effects, much cheaper animation and a fairly bland storyline, it hardly matches the quality of the original film. However the biggest disappointment is that the cat really seems to be playing Bert's role in events, voiced by actual Brit Tracey Ullman. (maybe Dick was embarrassed about acting opposite the queen - Sarah Ferguson)

For all that, it's appropriately magical that such an oddity exists, and a charming homage to a film that is quite rightly regarded as an absolute classic.

Maybe there's still more to come though. In three years' time the film will be 50.

So whadda ya rickon, gav'ner?

Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind

2011-01-21T03:00:00.000-08:00

Lately I've been watching quite a few movies off of DVD and VHS. It affords me the luxury of pausing, rewinding, and rewatching bits that I want to check a second time. This morning however I decided to watch one 'live' as it was broadcast on Channel 4.

This was so not the film to do that with.

Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind spends the bulk of its 103-minute running time jumping back and forth between real life and the protagonist's dreams. These dreams are also set within the individual in question's memories, ie. the past. However that's still too simple, so the whole story is even told in non-chronological order, to the point of running the 'opening credits' after a mere twenty minutes.

When, towards the end of the film, we witness some scenes from earlier on getting repeated, it's definitely time to hit rewind and check if what we're watching is consistent. Or at least pause for a cuppa. Well now I'm just whinging - Channel 4 had thoughtfully laid on ad breaks for that.

In a nutshell, the yarn revolves around a couple who break up so absolutely that they even visit a clinic to have their memories of each other wiped. With Jim Carrey as the guy, plenty of comedy ought to ensue, but it's not that kind of a Carrey vehicle.

Instead this is one of those grim, cynical SF dramas that invite us to really believe in the concept and ponder the idea of everyday life becoming so warped.

Indeed, ponder is a verb which applies to this film extremely well, as the story itself is very simple. Once Joel Barish (Carrey) realises that his memories are being deleted in reverse while he dreams, the penny also drops that there isn't much he can do about it, and for a while the whole show slows down.

Not that that's a bad thing. The blessing of a slow script is the real opportunity to explore the situation. It's a bit of a shame then, that while we continue to experience the background to Joel and Clementine's problems, the exciting potential of memory wiping is something which this movie fairly ignores.

The ramifications for everyday life of such a technology are never explored, as isn't the legal and social fragility of such a patient's new life. For example, just how was Joel going to deal with all the people who he couldn't ask to stop mentioning Clementine to him?

Instead this gap in the subject matter gets filled by the mystifying inclusion of Kirsten Dunst as the Doctor's receptionist. When she turns out to have had a memory wipe too, the revelation cannot contain any punch, partly because we already know of the procedure's existence, but mostly because she has only been presented to us as a sloppy receptionist, rather than as a human being.

A much more interesting dynamic would have been to present the scientific team as honest guys doing the job that their customer has entrusted them to do, prompting the ethical dilemma of which of Joel's contradictory wishes they should really be more loyal to.

It's all a fun ride anyway, and as I say the story's brevity gives it real room to breathe. Jim Carrey is on good form playing an introverted misfit straight, and writer/director Michel Gondry keeps the visuals interesting throughout, without ever going too grand or cartoonish.

Definitely a film to watch off of a copy that can be rewound and reexamined though. Was it day during that nighttime scene between Patrick and Clementine? I can't clearly remember. I'd check back on the VHS, but I seem to have gone over it...

(Available here)

Batman #222: Dead... Till Proven Alive! / Case Of No Consequence!

2011-01-17T02:00:00.000-08:00

Story: Frank Robbins (Dead... Till Proven Alive!), Mike Friedrich (Case Of No Consequence!)
Art: Irv Novick & Dick Giordano

Funky radio DJ: "Yay, keeds -- This is Ho-Ho-Ho, your jolly green deejay at XJL -- with the newest poop on ye great "Oliver Twists" mystery!

Dig the seventh groove on our boys' 'Summer Knights'! Spin at 78 R.P.M. instead of 33 -- take it off on tape -- and playback at 1-⅞ I.P.S.!"

I had to read that opening page three times just to figure out what on Earth was going on there.

And the solution to that particular bat-mystery was... that it was the year 1970.

The whole lead story is a spin on the real life "Paul McCartney Is Dead" urban-meme from the previous year, to the point of featuring a 4-boy pop group from Britain called 'The Twists'. (pictured on the cover) The above radio opening reveals a backmasked, or rather fastmasked, message hidden in one of their songs, hinting that their singer Saul Cartwright (geddit?) is in fact deceased.

Hidden message: "Sure was a ball, Saul -- Too bad it's over!"

Well, that's good enough evidence for me, but not apparently for Batman and Robin, who go to farcical extremes to ascertain just whether or not the lad from 'Lunnon Town' has in fact now been replaced by a lookalike imposter. They secretly record him speaking, secretly record him singing (I said it was farcical) and even bug his phone calls. Do the good guys sound to you a bit, well, obsessed?

Sheesh, they're just a pair of fanboy stalkers now!

By the end of the story the good guys have even broken into a recording studio, however despite his tunnel-vision, the world's greatest detective does still come through with the correct solution by the end of the strip.

And as twists in the tale go, this one's an absolute doozy. In fact I thought the ending was so good that I couldn't possibly tell you what it is here, you'll just have to find a copy of this and read it for yourself. Or look it up elsewhere on the net, I'm sure it won't be too hard to find. Suffice to say that it's completely plausable.

The media theme then continues in a single page of text by Joe Kubert about how to draw comics. Then there's this issue's back-up strip Case Of No Consequence!, which concerns Bats' attempts to recover a stolen camera on behalf of a deaf-mute. It's fortunate for said innocent that Bruce Wayne is not just a photography buff, but also versed in basic American Sign Language.

The Letters To The Batcave page features epistles from one "Mike W Barr" and also a "John Workman" (surely not?), but the media element that most interested me here had to be the advert on the inside back-cover for an 8mm ciné projector.

Not only could this ingenious contraption project both black-and-white AND colour film, but it was also battery-powered, and even came with a free pair of "Miracle Specs".

"FREE NEW THRILLING SENSATION!

ADDS 3-D STEREO EFFECT

Makes People Look So Full and Real, You'll Feel You Can Reach Out and Touch Them

Just put on the "Miracle Specs" and you achieve a thrilling new experience. You see - not the old flat pictures you've seen for years - but life-like round images so real you "know" you could reach out to touch and feel them."

In my quarter of a century as a ciné enthusiast, I have never come across such incredible technology, let alone any projector powered solely by batteries. Just who was this genius who was capable of manufacturing such an unheard of device?

On the evidence that I have available, I'm guessing Bruce Wayne.

(with thanks to Herschel)

Day & Night

2011-01-16T19:00:00.000-08:00

Charming cartoon short, made to support Toy Story 3, in 3D.

Well, 3D and 2D. It concerns a couple of characters in silhouette (hence the 2D) whose areas each display the same deep 3D landscape, but one in the daytime, and the other at night.

Well, I guess you gotta see it.

As always, Pixar have brainstormed and polished the whole thing to flawlessness, telling a story in a way that I've just never seen before. If any aspect does fall short of perfection then I guess it would be the inclusion of dialogue from a radio station to explain the tale's moral, but that's really just a matter of taste.

Both characters appear to be male, which in 2011 lends the sense of there being a gay agenda behind it. Perhaps this is also because, for a film portraying two opposite characters discovering their common ground, it seems a surprising oversight that they're not opposite sexes too.

Anyhow, another short classic. Long may Pixar's creativity continue!

Beckham Taunted By Evil Doppelgänger From Parallel Universe

2011-01-10T23:59:00.000-08:00

The Mummy / The Mummy Returns / The Mummy: Tomb Of The Dragon Emperor

2011-01-10T06:00:00.000-08:00

The thing that I remember the first Mummy film for is its cliffhangers.

For example - at one point a character gets trapped by a swarm of beetles. Oh, wait, that's at the end of the film when Beni dies. Oh well, bad example. Still a great cliffhanger moment though.

The thing that I remember the second Mummy film for is its technical shortcomings. Much of the early dialogue just hasn't been recorded clearly. Some of the parallel editing shows too much taking place in-between scenes that run straight on. A window shatters and is then intact again.

I also remember at the time reading an interview with the actress playing Evelyn - Rachel Weisz - in which she said that she wouldn't be doing the next one.

Still, I found them to both be enjoyable, if ultimately forgettable, trips to the cinema.

Sadly, the third one has no chance of winning that accolade, although admittedly this is because I watched it on TV, off of a VHS tape, that had been recorded in Long-Play.

And you know what? It's my favourite of the three.

Alex: "It's only the greatest find since King Tut!"

Not because it's necessarily better or anything, but just because, being a runaround, I found it the easiest to follow. There are great action sequences and cliffhanger moments again, so it certainly lives up to expectations.

All three lead characters seem to have aged by different degrees over the course of the trilogy though. Evelyn has not just had a change of appearance, but also of characterisation, being no longer the clutz of the first movie. Maria Bello compensates admirably for not being Rachel Weisz by playing the older role with so much presence that you can easily believe she actually was in the first two, if only she didn't look so different. (her eyes are too small)

There's also plenty of goofy comedy on show, and the funniest line is the one that closes the whole series. (to date)

I can take or leave the Mummy series, but overall I'm glad I took it.

Available here.

Woody's Roundup - A Rootin'-Tootin' Collection of Woody's Favourite Songs!

2011-01-10T01:10:00.000-08:00

This is the CD release of a soundtrack LP to an unfinished TV series that has never existed.

As you know, in the film Toy Story 2 Sheriff Woody discovered that he was a piece of merchandising from a 1950s puppet TV show. There's a magical scene in which he, Jessie the Yodelin' Cowgirl and Bullseye the horse all go crazy together amidst a huge collection of their old tie-in merchandise. They watch old episodes, put coins into a special themed money-box, set-off a snake-in-the-boot (jack-in-the-box) toy, and generally frolic.

They also spend a moment running on the spot as the series' own 12" soundtrack album spins beneath them on a record player. You remember, they play at speeding it up, slowing it down, and generally knocking the stylus back and forth between different tracks on side one. (it ignores this and continues to play the show's theme tune regardless)

Heck, this event is even pictured on the cover above.

This, then, is that soundtrack album!

Quite where the idea came from is anyone's guess, but something possessed Riders In The Sky to lay down eleven country / bluegrass tracks bearing only the slimmest of connections to the popular Toy Story franchise, and for this we can be supremely grateful.

These are delightful ballads both about and sung by all three speaking characters, although not voiced by Tom Hanks, Joan Cusack or Kelsey Grammer. This change in casting is fair enough for a couple of reasons:

1. These old tie-in records often featured different vocal actors to the original series that they were based upon.

2. In Toy Story 2, Woody, Jessie and Stinky Pete had different voices in the clip of the TV series due to being played by human actors. This means that since the TV series came first, the voice that plays when Woody's pull-string is drawn - and therefore Tom Hanks' voice throughout all three films - is incorrect anyway.

Consequently Devon Dawson takes on the role of Jessie for a couple of these tracks, including teaching us all how to yodel...

Cowboys: "Help Us Jessie!
How do we yodel?"

Jessie: "Yo-del-ay-ee-too!"

Cowboys: "When do we yodel?"

Jessie: "Any time we-ill doo!"

Cowboys: "Why do we yodel?"

Jessie: "I wish I knew-oo!"

Cowboys: "Boy-ee! We-ee do-oo too-oo!"

Jessie: "Why, it's not so hard boys, y' just got t' start simple 'n work y' way up thru trickier 'n trickier yodels 'til ya yodel like ME - Jessie, the yodelin' cowgirl!"

[She then yodels for over thirty seconds. Then Ranger Doug takes over.]

Some of these songs hint at what individual episodes of this monochrome series might well have been about. For example, after the opening theme tune, Act Naturally features Woody singing about a possible future as a cowboy in the movies.

Generally though there is only the odd hint that this album is actually a post-modern product from 40 years later. One such instance occurs in "One, Two, Three," Said The Prospector when Stinky Pete exclaims "Oh my God!", something he'd never have gotten away with in the 1950s.

"... And blew himself clean to... Oregon!"

Additionally, there are two further tracks which blow the album's authenticity as high as Pete's biscuits. My Favourite Toys mentions by name almost every character from Toy Story 2, from Andy to Zurg, while the final secret bonus track breaks the spell again in its own way.

These two breaches in the TV series' fourth wall might mean that I've read the album's concept all wrong, but I can't come up with another reason for how this CD came to be. As well as the cover artwork, even the CD itself appears designed to pretend that it's a record:

Finally, despite this CD winning a Grammy for Best Musical Album For Children in 2001, and Toy Story's ongoing popularity, its existence seems to have fallen into obscurity. I first discovered a lone copy hiding in Real Groovy on Queen Street in 2005, but left it too long before going back to buy it, figuring that I might find it cheaper on the net. Well, at time of writing there are gazillions of copies available on Amazon, 25 of which are going for less than NZ 15c.

Maybe Stinky Pete should give up his prospecting, and instead invest in these gold nuggets.

Track Listing:

1. Woody's Roundup
2. Act Naturally
3. Jessie, the Yodelin' Cowgirl
4. The Ballad of Bullseye
5. You've Got a Friend in Me
6. Hey Howdy Hey
7. My Favourite Toys
8. How Does She Yodel?
9. The Prospector Polka
10. You've Got a Friend in Me (Instrumental)
11. "One, Two, Three," Said the Prospector
12. Home on the Range
13. Shh! A Secret Bonus Track!

Available to sample and buy here.

Charlie And The Chocolate Factory (2005 film)

2011-01-09T06:00:00.000-08:00

It's been maybe three decades since I read the book / watched the 1971 movie adaptation of Roald Dahl's disturbing tale of events at a chocolate factory, so although some of the elements here were familiar, I still came to this pretty fresh.

As a film in its own right, I was hooked. The music, surreal concepts and eerie design had me transfixed from fairly early on. It's helped by investing so much of that first half hour in establishing Charlie and his family, making them believable and fun before plunging us into the weird world of broken-down cocoa beans.

The cast are all outstanding, and even the editing had me chuckling in places. Be warned however, the special effects are lazy right from the extensive CGI factory in the opening credits. Reusing the same actor over and over for the surreal Oompa-Loompas is one thing, but not for Mr Salt's human employees at his nut shelling business.

Some fun lines though, particularly pointing out the holes in the film's own story. When Mike Teavee protests that people cannot materialise within the two-dimensional world of a TV image, he verbalises something I've wanted to tell programme-makers since I was a teenager, but never known the concepts to express.

"You don't understand anything about science! First off, there's a difference between waves and particles! DUH!"

It's a good job that Mike isn't around earlier on to point out the slim probability of a golden ticket finder living just one street away from the factory. Or to ask how Charlie could have built an entire model of Willy Wonka and his factory out of toothpaste tops without ever having heard the story of how his live-in Grampa used to work there.

All right, I'll stop mumbling...

Throw in the great Christopher Lee, and all in all I really enjoyed this.

Really feel like I should go visit the dentist now though.

Available here.

Music While You Watch

2011-01-09T03:10:00.000-08:00

Another CD collection of test card tunes, interlude music and TV themes from yesteryear, sold in aid of the ever-young Winchester Hospital Radio.

What distinguishes WHR's releases from the other TV music compilations is their obvious love of the forgotten. These are not the same old popular theme tunes that get endlessly recycled in more mainstream collections.

Where else can you find the theme for Arthur Lowe's forgotten first series of Potter, the French-language education series Répondez s'il vous Plaît or the intro to Southern TV Weather? Not to mention sneaking in the Humphrey the tortoise music from the groundbreaking sketch show for deaf kids Vision On.

A few tracks do challenge my memory. For example, the lifeless Distant Hills is definitely not the Crown Court theme that I remember, so I guess they must have changed it between series.

One track that did have me rushing to dig out and compare my old 1980s off-air tapes with was Paddy Kingsland's theme music for Leonard Rossiter's final sitcom Tripper's Day. The piece is titled here March Of The Moogs (presumably a reference to the Moog synthesiser), and is definitely not the same arrangement that accompanied the short-lived series. In other words we seem to even have an untransmitted recording in here, which is entirely in-keeping with the obscurity of these collections.

Still, the ambiguity of the sleeve-notes is a surprise for a label that usually demonstrates so much enthusiasm for its material. While Tripper's Day might just be an oversight, about half of the compositions on disc one have no specific context listed, leaving us to wonder just which channels played them, when and for what purpose. Something of a mystery tour then!

As a result numbers like John Carmichael's Morning Call are instead free to conjure up impressions of a 'busy' scene from an MGM Technicolour musical, rather than maybe a plain old news page from Ceefax.

Another listing which stands out is for the conveyor belt sounding Swinging Pizzicato, which these days forms the retro opening to Channel 5's House Doctor.

The second CD feels like a separate release in its own right, constructed entirely of Channel 4 test card transmissions from the 1980s. Although each one of these melodies is distinctive, there's more of an overall uniformity to this disc.

The two tracks that I made a point of recording off-air in my schooldays (I was a very un-hip teenager) are not on here, but the one which stands out the most to me is Winners by Trevor Bastow. At the time this also found its way onto LBC Radio as the sound bed for Pete Murray's Nightline trails.

Proving that it wasn't just music while you watched.

Track listing:

CD1

1. Smiley (Phil Chilton) - Projection
2. Four in Hand (Max Harris) - The Otto Keller Orchestra
3. Merry Ocarina (Pierre Arvay) - The Pierre Arvay Group
4. Song of Autumn (Reg Tilsley) - The Reg Tilsley Orchestral
5. Get Up and Go (Ernest Ponticelli) - The Richard Nielson Group
6. Mazurka to Minuet (Johnny Gregory) - The Pandora Orchestra
7. A Girl Like You (Keith Mansfield) - The European Sound Stage Orchestra
8. Boulevard St. Michel (Jack Trombey) - The International Studio Orchestra
9. The Greatest Show on Earth (Peter Reno) - The Reg Tilsley Orchestral
10. Lumineux Cheverny (Raymond Guiot) - Raymond Guiot
11. Danza Gaya (Madeleine Dring) - The Raphaele Woodwind Sextet
12. Summer Convertible (Reg Tilsley) - The Reg Tilsley Orchestral
13. Bouncing Boots (Jack Trombey) - The London Studio Group
14. March of the Moogs (Paddy Kingsland)
15. Open House (Alan Langford) - The William Gardner Group
16. Sweet Unity (Johnny Pearson) - The Otto Keller Orchestra
17. Family Theme (Johnny Hawksworth) - Johnny Hawksworth Group
18. Distant Hills (Haseley, Reno) - The International Studio Orchestra
19. Snowdrops and Raindrops (Steve Gray) - The European Sound Stage Orchestra
20. Morning Call (John Carmichael) - Orchestra Raphaele, cond. Peter Walden
21. Doodle (Syd Dale) - Munich Concert Pop Orchestra
22. Live Free (Simon Haseley) - The International Studio Orchestra
23. Spindoe (Derek Hilton) - The Modern Sound
24. Swinging Pizzicato (Gerhard Narholz) - The Gerhard Narholz Orchestra
25. Sparky (Roger Webb) - The Roger Webb Group
26. Pink Skies (Julius Stefano) - The International Studio Orchestra
27. Kitten (Ted Dicks) - The Pandora Orchestra
28. The Little Hacienda (Arno Steinberg) - Orchestra Raphaele, cond. Peter Walden
29. Perky Flute (Earl Ward) - The International Studio Orchestra
30. The Glass Triangle (Pierre Arvay) - The Pierre Arvay Orchestra
31. Mr Pickwick (Syd Dale) - The Group 10 Players
32. The Muffin Man (Trad. arr Smith, Chilton and Naiff) - Projection

CD2

1. Superstar (A) (Keith Mansfield)
2. Butterfly 1 (Johnny Pearson) - The Bruton Light Orchestra
3. Spacefree (Memo Kurt)
4. A Boy and a Girl (Johnny Douglas) - The Anthony Mawer Orchestra
5. Heroes (Acock, Bunker, Edwards, Giltrap) - The Gordon Giltrap Band
6. Laurel Canyon Backstep (i) (Guarino, Sandberg) - Polson Pickers
7. All The Good Times (B) (Keith Mansfield)
8. Dot’s (Martin Kershaw) - The Bruton Players
9. Electronic Toccata (Monica Beale)
10. Taste for Living (John Fiddy) - The European Sound Stage Orchestra
11. Jazz Prelude (Brian Bennett, Cliff Hall) - The Brian Bennett Group
12. Looking Forward (A) (Nick Glennie-Smith)
13. Family Affair (John Scott) - The Bruton Players
14. Pennyweight (Kevin Peek)
15. Colour Supplement (Dave Lawson) - The Bruton Beat
16. Those Sparkling Eyes (David Snell) - The David Snell Quartet
17. Winners (Trevor Bastow) - The Bruton Beat
18. Sunny Day (Trevor Jones)
19. Sherwood Forest (Alan Parker)
20. Sunday in the City (Ray Davies)
21. Motivation (Andy Clark)
22. Flirtation (Peter Morris) - The Bruton Players
23. Prelude (Kathleen Crees)
24. Charisma (Anthony Mawer) - Michelangelo
25. Airedale Curry (Geoff Bastow)
26. Country Squire (Darryl Way) - The International Studio Orchestra
27. Soul Machine (Baker, Morgan) - The Bruton Beat
28. Rose Petals (Kevin Peek)
29. Lots of Fun (Louis Clark) - The Bruton Players
30. Captain Quirk (Memo Kurt)

Available here.
Reviews of other WHR releases:

Girl In A Suitcase
Natural Born Fillers

A Christmas Carol (2010/11 play, Trafalgar Studios London)

2011-01-09T01:00:00.000-08:00

Play about a miserable old skinflint who hates Christmas until four ghosts convince him to have a go at being nice for a change.

What's that? You say you've heard this story before? Oh no you haven't - take a leaf out of Scrooge's book and cut author Charles Dickens some slack here, even if he does tend to get away with churning out the same dozen plots again and again these days.

Page 12 of the show's programme discusses the audience's familiarity with such an iconic tale far better than I can:

"Had Charles Dickens met his own Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, would he have been pleased or horrified to learn how often and under how many guises A Christmas Carol would be re-told each winter?

It is not surprising that A Christmas Carol is hugely appealing to today's audience - it is set in a far-gone era; it has ghosts and time travel; it is a horror and a drama with a happy ending - something for all. And though Ebenezer Scrooge is not a character we ever want to resemble, there are moments when we are likely to identify with him. Ultimately, Scrooge's story preys on a common fear - what regrets might we, each one of us, have on our deathbeds?"

Bearing in mind that I've never read the original book, this production includes all the elements that I've come to expect of the story (barring muppets) in a suitably imaginative and surreal way.

I do hope that humbugs were available in the foyer.

The Dukes Of Hazzard (2005 film)

2011-01-08T06:00:00.000-08:00

Mistifyingly bawdy, cuss-filled remake of the well-loved family-friendly TV show.

If you can ignore those two elements then the rest of this is rather fun, and the most fun is to be found in the friendship of Seann William Scott and Johnny Knoxville as Bo and Luke Duke respectively.

The TV show used to go out on Monday nights in the UK when I was a kid, with the result that I would only ever catch the end of each edition due to going swimming that night. After actually watching a whole episode in Canada in '96, I formed the opinion that this had been a fortuitous way to see the series, figuring that the car chase at the end was what it was really all about.

In that respect, this movie certainly doesn't disappoint. The final act is an adrenaline-fuelled tour de force, even giving 1997's Dukes Of Hazzard: Reunion! movie a run for its money.

Available here.

Uno Of The Daleks

2011-01-07T23:59:00.001-08:00

The problem with Uno is that it's already a great card game, so adding a twist to the popular format always runs the risk of subtracting from its enjoyment, rather than enhancing it.

Tonight, still suffering from our defeat at Elmo's hands when playing Uno Spin recently, Herschel and I made the mistake of trying this version out as a two-hander.

I say mistake because it really needs at least three players.

This is because as well as the excellent ornamental box and slightly harder to distinguish picture-cards, the real spin in this version is the inclusion of four Exterminate Cards. These require the player with the fewest cards remaining to pick up four more. In a two-player match, about half the time they're the same as a regular Pick Up Four Card. The other half of the time the victim is yourself. It's a shrewd way of making it slightly tougher to win a game, especially since you don't really want to call Uno only to then force yourself to pick up four more cards.

I personally think the Dalek card should have impaired the player's vision so that they could not see their hand, and had to play it blind for a round, but that's just me.

Although I enjoyed this, I guess I'm still a purist, on both counts.