Random Ramblings, Thoughts and Fiction

RIP Davey Jones

2012-02-29T18:51:00.000Z

Sad breaking news, the Mancunian Monkee has died of a heart attack in his sleep at his home in Florida aged 66.

RIP

Out On Blue Six : David Dundas (and other news)

2012-02-29T13:00:00.001Z

Today's rather a big day for me and I need something with a bit of cheek and a confident beat to instil within me, because I've got an interview today for a rather nice job as a Psychological Wellbeing Practitioner with the place I volunteer at, and I've got to do a bit of an anxious trek across Manchester to be seen. So, I've chosen David Dundas (who later composed the Channel 4 ident music in the 80s and the soundtrack to my favourite film Withnail and I) and Blue Jeans

As you can see from that video, cheek was also provided by one of Ruby Slipper...her arse was practically hanging out there! Niiiice ;)

I also must mention that Matthew Coniam has, spurred on by my own little blog entry last month, done some excellent research on Mike Raven and conducted some interviews with the great man's family as well. The first part of this is found here http://hammerandbeyond.blogspot.com/2012/02/rediscovering-mike-raven-part-one.html

End Transmission

Story Time - Ashes To Ashes : Marriages and Deaths Part 3

2012-02-28T22:10:00.000Z

Ashes To Ashes : Marriages and Deaths Part 3

Paint Me Down plays over the soundtrack

Gene entered the interview room and stoically surveyed the surroundings. By now he had taken off his overcoat and gloves and was wearing a dark grey suit, black shirt and grey tie with white and red stripes. He breathed in deeply and took a seat opposite Palmer, just as Alex came through.

Paint Me Down fades out

"Look" Palmer began "Before you say anything, our Joe has always been a hothead. I ain't apologising for him, but I ain't saying he's done wrong either"
Gene snorted "Big of you"
Alex pulled her chair in a little closer to the desk and placed her hands within touching distance in a subconcious effort to suggest they wanted to meet halfway; police and criminal family to resolve the situation as safely and succesfully as possible. She could almost hear Gene sneer inside her head at her body language, knowing full well that the only connection he wanted to make was with his fists and Nick Palmer's face several times over.
"Um, look Nick...perhaps you might be able to think of somewhere Joe may have taken himself and our officer of to? Was there a place he likes to frequent or hide things? Perhaps it's a special place from your childhood? Somewhere secret that only you and he shared?"
"Bloody hell Bolls" Gene huffed, crossing his legs to suggest he was growing weary "We're looking for a viscious little toerag who has one of our finest kidnapped, we're not gonna find him looking behind the wardrobe for bloody Narnia!"
Palmer sighed and ran a hand over his face "If I knew, if I had any clue as to where he might be now, I'd tell you....honest, on my eyes....I want this resolved as much as you, I'm supposed to be getting married today"
"What about your guests today?" Alex persisted "Might anyone of them know?"
Just then there was a swift knock on the door and Viv's head poked around it. "Guv, uniform are just back from Temple Street. They've found the limo abandoned and Chris's radio on the backseat. We've also got a report of a stolen Mini Metro in that street too"
"A Mini Metro?" Gene scoffed, pushing away from the desk with the heel of his boot and folding his arms "Well, little Joe's hardly riding off into the sunset in style"
"I've just put an all car alert out for it Guv" Viv nodded.
"Thanks Skip...oh and bring in the reception guests" Gene asked "DI Drake here thinks we might find a clue to the whereabouts from them"
Alex smiled softly "Thank you Guv"
"I'm not doing it for you Bollykecks. A Palmer wedding? Probably filled to the bloomin' rafters with southern cockney scumbags...chances are we can nail half a dozen unsolved crimes out of them by tea time without the need for a warrant" and with that he strolled out of the interview room to follow Viv.

Geno by Dexy's Midnight Runners fades in

Alex placed her head in her hands "Of course" and smiling apologetically to Palmer she said "Don't worry, it's nothing personal about your guests, he's like that about anyone south of Crewe" and got up to leave.

"Guv! Guv!" Ray called chasing down the corridor after Gene and Alex, who both turned to see what could have excited the DS so.
"That was the local rag on the phone....Little Joe Palmer has rang them"
Gene and Alex shared a look. "Well come on Raymondo spit it out!" Gene demanded.
"He says he wants Nick out of here by midnight tonight, only then will he let Chris go free. Oh and he wants a free and uninterrupted flight to the Irish Republic and £5k in cash"
Gene blew out his cheeks and snorted "Well I want Janet Ellis to tuck me up at night, but it's not going to happen"
"It seems we've underestimated this 'Little' Joe" Alex observed "He's clever enough to inform his demands via an intermediary"
"A what?" Gene snapped "Talk English woman"
Alex sighed "An intermediary Guv, he's using the local newspaper as a go between to communicate his demands. Perhaps he's cleverer than you've given him credit for?"
"Little Joe Palmer is about as clever as a flid trying to use a pocket calculator. If you ask me, he may as well have told his demands to Jim'll Fix It for all the good it'll do"
"But Guv" Alex persisted "We have to keep a clear line of communication open"
"A no is a no from The Gene Genie, DI Drake, that clear enough?" and with that he stalked off down the corridor.
"How's about that then" Ray said imitating Jimmy Saville with a lairy smile aimed at Alex.
Alex took a step closer to Ray "It's not your fault you know, about Chris" she whispered "But the sooner you realise that and stop the bravado act the better"
Ray tutted, creasing his eyes at Drake's suggestion with disgust as he turned on his heel "Shut up"

Geno fades out

Joe Palmer stepped back into the car and placed the key in the ignition but decided against turning it. He needed time to think. In the back seat, Chris shuffled a little closer and cleared his throat "What, um what just happened?"
"I'm trying to think!" Joe snapped, staring straight ahead"
"Right...sorry"
Joe sighed and relented "I've just rang in with my demands, I'll let you go if they release Nick before midnight, give us five grand and a plane out of here ok?"
"Oh...anywhere nice?" Chris asked dumbly
"What?"
"The plane, off to the Costa Fortune eh?" he said, trying to remain cheery
"Dublin"
"Oh"
Joe turned sharply in his seat to face Chris "You think I should have demanded Spain instead?"
"Well" Chris shrugged "Not for me to say, I mean, it's the same as Ireland, no extradition, but well, like, better weather"
Joe sweared softly but pasionately "I always get it wrong" he said finally.
"Yeah, don't worry mate...I'm like that too"
"I just wanna do right by my brother see?" Joe explained
Chris nodded "Like me, I wanna do right by the Guv, make him proud like...and Shaz...of course....Ray too I suppose....oh and DI Drake"
But Joe was no longer listening "We need to get out of here" he looked up and down the street and then started the car.
"Um...where we going?" Chris asked
"Somewhere we can sit tight until your mates see sense and release Nick" Joe explained.
"And um, what...what if they don't?"
Joe braked at the junction waiting to turn left out of the street. He glanced at Chris in the mirror, a tight smile on his features "Well there'll be one less copper in the world won't there?"
Chris's face turned ashen and his stomach turned upside down "Roger that" he managed to say finally, hoping against hope the Guv would save him.

Back in Fenchurch East, Gene and Alex were heading uop the corridor back to the office to interview the wedding guests or as Gene put it as he hungrily rubbed his hands together;
"Right, let's go and get some truth out of some southern scum shall we?"

Heaven 17's Let's All Make a Bomb fades in

They walked into the office and immediately faced down in excess of over twenty wedding guests, all shouting, arguing, and above all pleading innocence and ignorance as the DC's and uniforms interviewed them. In the corner, the bride continued to weep uncontrollably and one look from the father and motther of the bride who desperately tried to console her suggested to Alex that she had not had a dry eye since Gene stormed into the church that day.
"My God Bolls" Gene said surveying the chaos "You know it's bad when the criminal classes have become yuppified"
Although it was no laughing matter, if Alex were being honest she found it hard to stifle a small chuckle, for he was right; the entire office was wall to wall with pinstripe suits, red braces, sloane ranger outfits and Princess Di hairdo's.
"If this really is my sub conscious" Alex murmured to herself as Gene stepped into the fray "Then I'm a lot more satirical than I give myself credit for"

Heaven 17's Let's All Make a Bomb fades out

Gene was heading straight for a particularly loud pony tailed guest with an Estuary accent and overly large bright blue framed glasses who was shouting at a bravely struggling Shaz "And I've already told you sweetheart...look let me explain it again yeah? I-Don't-Know-Where-He-Might-Be-comprende? Sorry and all that but I don't speak pig!"

The man was about to laugh, his mouth was open and ready, but the laugh stifled in the throat and wouldn't budge, for it was immeditaly replaced by a wail and whimper, for Gene had come up behind him and grabbed at his short little pony tail, stretching his head back far over the chair where he could stare down at him.
"Now you listen to me blondie" Gene snarled, and the man could feel the DCI's hot whisky breath all over his face, "This WPC here is worth ten of you, in fact you're not fit to shine her shoes. So when she asks you a question you bloody well answer it with a civil tongue, because that scum Joe Palmer has her boyfriend hostage somewhere out there. Now do you comprende that sunshine?"
The man wincing with pain under Gene's grasp of his hair managed to say "You're...hurting...me"
Gene breathed in deep, flaring his nostrils "Not the answer to my question!" and with force slammed the man's head into the desk.
"Guv!" Alex gasped, taking steps towards him. All around several cops including Viv and Ray halted their questions and winced, whilst horrified guests stared on open mouthed.
Just then a voice called out from the door "DCI Hunt!"
Gene turned "Ah Chief Super" he said, trying to compose himself.
"I would be grateful if you could give me a progress report on the situation at hand?" The Chief Super asked politely but with a hint of steel to his tones.
"With repect sir," Gene replied looking around the room "I'm a little bit busy right now"
"How busy?" The Super snapped
"Busier than a one armed juggler with crabs sir..I am trying to save the life of my officer so can't it wait?!"
The Super's face turned puce "Now, DCI Hunt!"
Gene sighed and gazed round the room one final time, before his eyes set on Alex "Find something out for me Bolls" he said firmly but quietly as he left.

To Be Continued...

(C) Mark Cunliffe 2010

It's Tuesday Night

2012-02-28T19:13:00.000Z

And that, for me, means Holby City and the wonderful Jac Naylor played by Rosie Marcel

John Byrne and Gerry Rafferty

2012-02-28T17:55:00.002Z

Watching and thoroughly enjoying the Gerry Rafferty night on BBC4 Friday (the documentary, Right Down The Line, being the highlight) I was reminded of the great album artwork that fellow Scot, the artist and playwright John Byrne provided for him and his outfit, Stealers Wheel.

I've long been an admirer of Bryne's work; they're so beautiful, with a truly distinctive style, that I thought I should give some of them 'a blog shout out' if you like...

And a self portrait of the great artist from the 70s....

Books Books Books

2012-02-28T16:22:00.000Z

What's your favourite books? This was a question posed to me and others on a forum I frequent by my friend Fiona. She asked for our ten favourite books. And let me tell you it's damn hard to do! I finally posted my ten, but was left wondering if I'd made the right decision for a long time after.

Here's my 10. In rough order.

1. Engleby by Sebastian Faulks
2. 1984 - George Orwell
3. The Rotters Club - Jonathan Coe
4. Cider With Roadies - Stuart Maconie
5. Money - Martin Amis
6. A Perfect Execution - Tim Binding
7. Fleshmarket Close - Ian Rankin
8. Collected Poems - Philip Larkin
9. The Human Factor - Graham Greene
10. The Fire Engine That Disappeared - Maj Sjowall and Per Wahloo

What's yours? Why not blog about them and reply here with a link to your list :)

Out On Blue Six : Sleigh Bells

2012-02-28T13:14:00.002Z

New(ish) band whom I love....

Other business-tomorrow, I've a job interview for the place I volunteer with at their Manchester HQ. I am both scared and happy! First interview in a looooong time.

Oh and dentists, Thursday. This is one time I'm actually wishing for Thursday and that appointment to come around. I think that's less stressful than a job interview!

End Transmission

Story Time - Ashes To Ashes : Marriages and Deaths Part 2

2012-02-28T00:36:00.000Z

Ashes To Ashes : Marriages and Deaths Part 2

The ominous opening bars of New Dawn Fades by Joy Division starts up....

The limo sped down the streets, kicking up litter as it did. Behind the wheel, Joe Palmer, rubbed a hand over his dry mouth and tried to calm himself down.

In the rear of the car, Chris Skelton sat equally nervously, unable to exit as Joe had put the child locks on. He was a prisoner, a hostage, and it was all he could do to not be sick right now, such was the extent of his fear.

Suddenly the limo entered a residential street and stopped sharply. Joe knew he had to ditch the limo, the entire Metropolitan Police Force would be after him by now, and the car was just too noticeable. He surveyed the view outside his windscreen for a suitable replacement before turning around to face his captive "Stay here pig or I'll blow your head off!" he warned, waving the gun for good measure, before jumping out of the car and heading for a mini metro further up the road.

Chris cursed to himself and rubbed his hand over his forehead, already clammy with sweat. He breathed deeply through his nostrils in an attempt to calm himself down. Suddenly, an idea struck within him. His radio! His shaking hands grabbed deep inside his denim jacket and pulled the chunky transmittor out. Offering a silent prayer of thanks up to the heavens, with eyes closed, Chris then hit the transmit button;
"This is DC Skelton is anyone receiving? Over"
"Repeat this is DC Chris Skelton, anyone receiving? Over"

Over in Fenchurch East police station, Shaz Grainger was perched on the edge of her desk watching Multi Coloured Swapshop on the TV in the corner of the room. She was giggling along to some silly stunt Noel Edmonds and Maggie Philbin were undertaking on John Craven, when suddenly the crackle of her radio distracted her. She ran to her desk to hear Chris's SOS and immediately hit 'receive'

"Chris baby, it's Shaz...what's happening?" she replied, confused and already a little fearful.

In the back of the limo, Chris breathed a sigh of relief "Shaz, it's alright, I'm ok, but I've been taken hostage...I'm in a wedding car on...." he leant up in his seat to survey the street, looking for a sign, any clue to say where he was "On...Temple Street, that's it. Temple Street. Get all cars available down here now!"

"Hostage? What? Baby what's happened?" Shaz said, panic rising in her voice, she looked around for help but none was forthcoming, suddenly she felt very alone and helpless in the deserted station.

Chris was about to speak again, when a meaty hand lunged into the back of the car and dragged him by the collar out into the open. Joe Palmer, fresh from securing a new car, snatched the radio from his grip "Very bad move" he snarled and he hit Chris across the back of his head with the butt of his gun, slinging the radio in the back of the abandoned limo, where it crackled with Shaz' pleas. Pleas that could not be answered.

Joy Division fades out....

"Baby?" Shaz cried desperately "Chris?" Just as she did, Gene, Alex and Ray entered the office, with the handcuffed and weary looking Nick Palmer between them. Helplessly and hoping against hope, Shaz looked to Gene, but there was little comfort to be found in his creased granite like features.

Gene explained what had happened to an increasingly teary Shaz. Ray stood slightly alone, shaking his head and staring into space, his cigarette, ignored between his fingers, fading to ash fast "It's all my fault" he said, but only Alex heard. She placed a hand on his shoulder, but he instantly shrugged it off "Where do you want this creep Guv?" he said loudly, roughly grabbing hold of Nick and ignoring his protestations of "Now just a minute!"
Gene looked over his shoulder "Check with Viv which one of our penthouses are currently free Raymondo"
"Right Guv" Ray nodded and dragged the prisoner out.
"Chris is gonna be alright isn't he?" Shaz asked, her voice cracking and her hand to her neck.
Gene glanced between her and the floor, desperate for something to save him from answering. He found his saviour in the unlikely cheery form of the tigger-like Keith Chegwin, gabbling enthusiastically from some home counties municipal pool on the television.
"Bolly, switch that bloody tele off!" he snapped, his gloved fingers clicking with agitation in its general direction "I don't think Cheggers is going to be able to arrange a swap for us between Palmer and our Chris!"
"Alright!" Alex complained; annoyed that Gene seemed to be taking his frustrations out on her. As she stepped towards the TV, finger extended to switch it off, she noticed a familiar figure that keith Chegwin had his arm around. It was a little girl, shy in demeanour, almost sad it would seem, with mousy hair and a mole on her cheek.
It was Molly!
"Molly" Alex gasped, falling to her knees in front of the TV.
"Now then Molly" the 1982 Keith Chegwin was asking the present day Molly "What would you like to have?"
"I want my Mum" Molly said, lip trembling and eyes downcast.
"Ey!" Cheggers chuckled "We can't swap Mum's on here!" and he looked around to the laughing group of children waving their homemade 'Hello Mum' placards.
"I haven't got a Mum to swap" Molly said, fighting back tears now, "I want my Mum back" Her face filled the screen now, Cheggers looking round for someone in the production with concern, eager to wrap proceedings up "I want you back Mum...please...come back to me"
"Oh Molly!" Alex said, her fingers clawing at the screen, tears now filling her eyes "I will...I will come back to you....I promise" but then Molly disappared and the screen went black for a moment. "Molly....Molly?"
Suddenly Noel Edmonds appeared back in the studio "Erm, we're sorry for that Swapshop technical breakdown, clearly one child has lost her Mum down there in the crowd and I'm sure Keith will locate her any moment....but for now here's Spandau Ballet performing their new single, Paint Me Down, live!"
"Bolly switch that bloody TV off!" Gene screamed out, whilst comforting Shaz in his arms, and Alex jabbed hurriedly at the button, sending the New Romantics into darkness. "Finally" he snapped "Now make yourself useful...let's go and have a word with that pillock Palmer" and he pulled himself away from Shaz, patting her arm as he did, his eyes accusingly, never leaving Drake as he exited.
Alex gathered herself together, mouthed an apology to Shaz and hurried on after him.

Paint Me Down fades in and takes us out....

To Be Continued....

(c) Mark Cunliffe 2010

Askwith!

2012-02-27T23:46:00.000Z

Just makes me chuckle!

Careless Love (1976)

2012-02-27T22:11:00.004Z

Careless Love is a short film, running to just ten minutes, from 1976. It is directed and written by Francine Winham (essentially a student project) and stars Jane Asher and Richard Heffer of Colditz fame.

I like short films, and short stories in fact (In print I thoroughly recommend Bruce Robinson's Paranoia In The Launderette) They have to get to the point very quickly so it often seems like not a word or a shot is wasted. They also tend to have stings in the tail which invariably satisfies the audience in a way that longer works simply do not. Careless Love has just such a sting, as it swiftly spins off into a blackly comic tale.

It opens to the strains of the jazz standard that the title lends from. As the song plays we see Jane Asher's character Lucy receiving her beau, Heffer's Mark, and his gift of a bunch of red roses. The ultimate in romance you might say. She positively glows in accepting them and hurries into the kitchen to find a suitable place for them. However, none seem available and with a shrug, and a mild expression of frustration, she simply deposits them in the peddle bin!

So far, so BBC sitcom/hidden gem Love Soup, which would much later also amuse us of the peculiarities of the mating rituals to a jazz standard score a'la Woody Allen. It's an amusing opening scene but more; it tells the viewer something key about Lucy's character, something that will make sense of the events to follow, because for Lucy, if something doesn't fit-however much you invest in it-you simply have to dispose of it.

The next scene starts the film proper as the soundtrack fades out and we find ourselves, clearly sometime later, in a suitably 1970s living room. The TV flickers snowy in the corner and the room seems vacant...until hands appear from the sofa, stretching contentedly. The camera finds our lovers, lying blissfully in each others arms. Heffer's Mark looks the epitome of open necked middle class cultured machismo whilst Jane Asher's Lucy seems, at first, to predate the actresses own serene homemaker future in a high belted russet outfit that appears practical yet fashionable and indicative of the era.

In the possibly post coital cosiness, Lucy and Mark discuss how well things are between them and how happy they are with one another. Lucy then dreamily asks Mark to marry her.

Wrong move.

Mark is horrified. He pulls away from the embrace, rises up and proceeds to tell Lucy just why it would not be possible for him to marry her, much to her shocked expression; Asher's natural alabaster skin becoming, well, ashen!

Lucy has been married before it seems, to a man called Gerald who passed away and who Mark had known. Mark explains quite vociferously that he could never marry someone who had been married previously, and more, he could never marry someone who has children. Lucy has two you see, babies, and right on cue, thanks to Mark's appalled reaction and raised voice they begin to stir upstairs. Lucy scurries off to deal with them, suitably shell shocked, leaving Mark to settle down with his newspaper, but he cannot because of the noise. Mark is clearly a spineless demanding git who is too boneheaded to realise his loud voice has woken the babies and therefore it is his fault in the first place that he can't get that moment's peace.

Oh yeah, Mark's a charmer.

Finally the children quieten down as quickly as they were roused and with a smug smile of relief, Mark returns to his paper. Lucy returns, and Mark compliments on her swiftness in getting the kids back off. He asks her how she did it, and Lucy replies matter of factly "I put them to sleep" standing before him like a child waiting for a kind word or praise.

It doesn't take long for Lucy to clarify just what she means; she has killed her babies.

For Lucy, it's a straightforward solution; Mark didn't want to be with her long term because she had children, ergo get rid of the children and Lucy's perfect future with the man she loves will become true.

Naturally, this appals Mark and he challenges her, querying her mental stability. How could a mother kill her own babies? It's clearly repulsive. Shaken, he's lost for words, before ultimately saying "I need a drink"

Jane's acting, indeed her whole physicality her as a performer is brilliant. From the confused and surprised expression on her face when she realises that what she has done is not what Mark wanted right through to her slumping, defeated, on the sofa they had previously canoodled on, to the brilliant moment in which she uses arguably her greatest asset; her vibrant flowing red hair, as she tosses her head up, revealing her face once more-and the idea within her-upon Mark's request for something to drink.

The final few shots play out in silence once more, before Careless Love strikes up again. Lucy, ever obedient and eager to please dashes off to fulfil her beau's request. Meanwhile Mark, clearly struggling with her murderous actions, shuffles round the room, shivering. He eventually fetches his coat. His intentions are clear to us, he's leaving and for good.

Lucy returns and hands Mark his drink which he swallows quickly, eager to get out of there. He makes to move, but as we've already surmised, whatever was in it is clearly quick acting, and he convulses before slumping over the chair, Lucy watching his death throes perfectly calmly. Clearly Mark's intentions were equally clear to Lucy, indeed they have been ever since she shot her head up from the sofa, and in another example of her philosophy regarding something no longer working or fitting right, she disposes of him.

A kind of 'if I can't have him, no one can', which is in keeping with the eventual theme of the title song. And, of course, I find myself now wondering, admittedly a few hours after viewing, if first husband Gerald suffered a similar fate? ;)

But it's up to the audience, who are either smiling wickedly or staring shocked. The blackly comic tale fades to a suitable black.

Story Time - Ashes To Ashes : Marriages and Deaths

2012-02-27T01:02:00.001Z

It'll probably come as no surprise that Ashes To Ashes and Life On Mars are two of my favourite ever shows. To this end in 2010 I started some fanfics based on A2A which were published and warmly received on a forum I frequent. I thought I'd share them here to keep the fiction side of this blog bargain up. And so here's part 1 of my first offering, entitled Marriages and Deaths.

All feedback and comments are gratefully received.

Ashes To Ashes : Marriages and Deaths

It was a Saturday morning and Fenchurch East's CID room was barely filled with its barely enthused team, unhappy spending their weekend at work.
The watery January sun perforating through the blinds was the only light in the office. DS Ray Carling was busy yawning and sulking as he sat on the edge of his desk, one hand scratching at his groin whilst the other tipped ash from his cigarette on the floor below.
"It's not right is this. Working on a Saturday. We're here, so where's Drake?"
WPC Shaz Grainger walked past with a tray full of teas and coffees she had just prepared in the kitchenette. Ray helped himself to a mug as she explained "She had an appointment at the hairdressers remember? She'll be here in a minute"
"Hairdressers?" Ray scoffed, and then cast a sly glance to his oppo, DC Chris Skelton, who was sat facing him at his desk, unnaturally busy concentrating on the 2HB pencil in his hand, for he knew what was coming next. "She's not the only one who's been to the hairdressers!"
"Ray!" Shaz scolded, leaping to her Chris' defence "This is 1982. It's quite fashionable for young men to highlight their hair"
Chris dropped the pencil and touched at his newly blonde locks defensively "Thanks Shazza"
"It's alright babes" Shaz turned and smiled at Chris, touching his arm and placing down Chris' drink tenderly "I think it really suits you"
"Poof!" Ray sneered and took a big gulp of his coffee.
Just then the door to the Guv's office burst open and a mildly hungover DCI Gene Hunt strode into the outer office, eyes downcast but voice addressing everyone with force "DI BollyKnickers had better get her bony arse in here toot bloody suit. I told her not to be late today of all days!"
"It's a wedding Guv" Ray replied "A bird's perogative to be late"
Gene swivelled across to face his DS "Not on my bloody watch it's not!"
"She's at the hairdressers Guv" Chris explained from his desk.
"Oh you been giving her advice have you Christopher?!"
Ray laughed at this whilst Chris merely blushed and hurriedly concentrated on his pencil once more mumbling a quick "No Guv" whilst Shaz taking to her seat merely rolled her eyes at the neanderthals she found herself working with.
Just then the outer office doors burst open and DI Alex Drake entered the room, smiling broadly. "Ta da!" she explained and did a little twirl in her dark blue denims and white leather bikers jacket. Much to the bemusement of the males in attendance.
"I think it really suits you ma'am" Shaz said smiling equally as broad from over her mug.
"Thank you Shaz" Alex nodded.
"What does?" Ray asked bitterly.
"Oh come on?!" Alex sighed, placing her hands to her new shoulder length hair "None of you notice any difference?" and she looked from one to one at the blank impassive faces of Ray, Chris and Gene.
"She's straightened her hair" Shaz voiced an explanation as if se were talking to a nursery group, and rolled her eyes once more.
"That's right" Alex said "I've ditched the perm!" adding "It was so 1981!" and laughing at a joke only she, given her circumstances, could really understand.
Gene shuffled on his snakesin cowboy boots "Oh good" he said, eyes downcast once more "'cos if you ask me there's only one place a girl should have tight curly hair"
Ray began to cackle at his Guv's dirty joke, but Chris merely looked on dumbly as his brain whirred into life trying to comprehend. Finally he spoke; "You mean Africa Guv?"
"Shut up Christopher!" Gene spat staring at the door ahead and snapping on his driving gloves. "Now, if we're all quite ready, we've a wedding to go to. Raymondo, fire up The Quattro, and let it get me to the church on time!"
And with that, the men stalked out of the office, leaving Alex to look briefly at Shaz "Give me strength" she said in exasperation, before turning on her heels and following them out. Shaz smiled sadly, checked her radio frequency was correct, and began to read her copy of Smash Hits in peace.

Fades to Billy Idol's White Wedding

The Quattro raced and skidded its way through the back streets of London, a vibrant red blur to the rare passers by in that area. Gene grappled manfully at the wheel, controlling the snarling horse power like a veteran rodeo rider. Next to him in the passenger seat sat Alex, who drummed her freshly painted fingernails against the car door's interior and wondered once more why they always had to be in such a rush.
In the back seat sat Ray and Chris. Both with their hands clinging to the grips above each window to save them sliding about, for neither wore a seat belt.
"Guv" Chris asked loudly above the roar of the car "It being a Saturday and us working like, I was wondering, do we get any perks?"
"Yes Chris" Gene said as he expertly turned the car at the last moment down another side street, sending its rear sliding out dramatically "You get the perk of not having my boot up your arse ok?!"
Chris gulped and turned to Ray who shook his head with a mixture of sadness and disappointment in his friend asking such a foolish question.
Finally the Quattro braked to a halt and all four officers shifted backwards into their seats from the slamming force of the stop. Only Gene handled this with composure and no sooner had he took the key from the ignation that he was kerb side, slamming his door shut (and ending Billy Idol as abruptly as ending the Quattro's drive)
"Bugger" Gene grumbled almost to himself as he surveyed the empty pavement outside the church "We're late...they're already in there"
Alex climbed out of the passenger side and looked to Gene who was still staring impassively at the church beyond them.
"You're seriously going to do this?" she asked, her eyebrow raised.
"I said I'd do it, and I will Bolls. The Gene Genie is a man of his word" he sniffed gruffly and made his way around the car just as Ray and Chris clambered out of the rear.
"He's seriously going in there now?" Alex asked the pair as Gene breezed past her. Both Ray and Chris shrugged. Alex threw her hands in the air and let them land with a slap on her hips "Unbelievable" she said "Oi Hunt!" she called after her superior "Gene...you can't do this!" she was following his wake now "Hunt!" she called again, but her pleas were falling on deaf ears, the Guv had made his mind up.
Ray leant his arms on the roof of the Quattro and lit a cigarette. Exhaling the smoke he said; "Say one thing about the Guv, he's a determined sod. That Drake needs to realise that"
Chris nodded "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do"
Ray threw his head back and looked down at his partner with creased, cynical features "And what would you know about what a man's gotta do?"
Chris sighed "They're just highlights Ray"
Ray snorted a laugh and breathed his cigarette smoke deeply as he began to follow Drake and Gene "And I suppose if Shaz said put your finger in the fire you'd do it"
"Hey!" Chris shouted, chasing after Ray "Shazza didn't tell me to do me hair"
"That makes it worse!" Ray said over his shoulder "Time you acted like a man...bein' down south's made you soft!"

By now, Alex had caught up with Gene, whose leather driving gloved hand was on the door of the porch to the church. Alex threw her hand over his and they both stared into eachother's eyes. Alex's first instict was to criticise Gene, but something unspoken occured between them and inside she suddenly felt like melting. Catching herself, she looked down to the floor, removed her hand and cleared her throat, before attempting eye contact with the nonplussed gruff Manc Lion once more "Guv, I can't let you do this...this is someone's wedding day"
"Correction DI Drake" Gene countered, back stiffening to ram rod straightness "This is some scrote's wedding day"
"Ok" Alex said "but thing of the poor girl, the bride Gene think of the bride"
Gene sniffed and stuck out his chin in a show of stubborness "Probably some slapper Bolls, don't waste your sympathy" and with that he pulled open the door and entered the church, walking in purposeful strides up the aisle, his long black overcoat's tails and belt flapping behind him as he did so with Alex Ray and Chris now at his heel. The former looking suitably embarrased whilst the latter two looked to be positively enjoying it.

Up ahead was the vicar addressing the congregation, the bride with her head bashfully pointed down at her groom, resplendant in his morning suit.
"Therefore, if there's anyone here can show any just cause as to why they may not be lawfully joined together, let them speak now or forever hold their peace"

"Yes cock!" Gene's voice boomed across the church.

Heads gasped and turned to view the uninvited guests. Up at the alter, the bride looked startled, but the groom and his best man looked downright angered.
The vicar, a quiet and civil middle aged man, rubbed a hand to his head "I'm sorry" he said unsure that what was going on before him was actually happeneing "but do you have just cause?"
"I most certainly bloody well do" Gene replied just as the father of the bride began to rise up from his pew. Gene thrust his hand down on the man's shoulder sending him crashing back down again. "The groom, Nicholas Palmer is one vicious evil little bastard and I am hereby nicking him"
More gasps echoed around the church. Ray chuckling, nudged Chris in the ribs. Alex rolled her eyes heavenwards and apologised to everyone and no one in particular.
The groom met Gene's eyes with ice cold hardness "Mr Hunt" he said as calmly as he could "Are you serious?"
"Oh yes Nick" Gene said, looking round the congregation before turning his gaze to him with equal frostiness "I'm as serious as a night in with Melvyn bloody Bragg. You're nicked"
"You're making a big mistake Hunt" snarled the best man.
"Keep your kid brother on a leash Nick" Gene retorted "he's too young to be playin' with the big boys yet"
Nick Palmer placed a hand on his brother, the best man's shoulder "Leave it Joe"
"Listen to your brother" Gene said and moving forward he grabbed Nick's arm.
Suddenly the bride wailed "But it's my wedding day!"
"Oh my baby!" a voice cried out, and the owner of it, a plump middle aged woman raced from her pew. It was the bride's mother.
"Sit down woman!" Gene ordered and pushed her backwards with one hand.
"Right!" the man next to her yelled. He was he rhusband, the man Gene had swatted down before "I've had enough of this!"
"Raymondo" Gene ordered swiftly as he frogmarched Palmer out down the aisle and Ray obediently jabbed the bride's father in the kidneys, sending him dropping to the floor with a groan.
"And I thought Four Weddings and a Funeral was funny?!" Alex muttered under her breath before jogging along to catch up with her departing colleagues and their prisoner.

Outside in the crisp morning air, Gene opened the Quattro's rear door "Get in Palmer, and mind my bloody upholstery"
"I expected more from you Mr Hunt, this, well this is just a cheap shot"
"You could of at least waited til after they were wed" Joe, the brother said venomously.
"Oh shut up you southern fairies" Gene said and was about to throw Nick into the car when he heard a click behind him. Slowly he turned, just as Nick said "Joe don't" and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.
"You got a new toy Joe is that it?" Gene said, barely showing any emotion for his situation.
"Just let him go" Joe demanded as levelly as his voice could possibly manage.
"Guv!" Ray shouted as they stepped outside and saw the situation, he was about to run forward but Alex grabbed him. "No Ray, it's too dangerous"
Chris, a little way to Alex's right, saw an opportunity. "Not for me it's not" he said "This man's gotta do what a man's gotta do" and he raced along the church grounds aiming to come out alongside Joe, Nick and his Guv.
"Chris no!" Alex called out, just as some members of the congregation stepped out, and gasped at the fresh set of events once more.
"Joe" Nick was saying "There's no need for this, I'll be out in time for the reception you see"
"Let...him...go" Joe repeated.
Gene's eyes narrowed. The tension filled out the second before he replied like a yawning chasm "Ok" he said and side stepped to allow Nick to move.
"Guv!" Chris yelled as he reached the scene.
"Chris no!" Gene called out. But it was all over in seconds. Chris pushed Nick back into the Quattro, but in getting between Gene and Joe, Joe saw and opportunity to grab him. Now the gun was pointing hard into Chris's neck and his arms were up behind his back in a tight grip from the muscular Joe.
"Let my brother go" Joe said.
"No" Gene replied folding his arms and resting his bum against the rear door of the Quattro, closing Nick inside. "Let my DC go"
Joe laughed, an evil excited laugh and bared his teeth before running with Chris down the street and into the wedding limo, Gene, Alex and Ray gave chase, Gene with gun raised, but it was too late and the limo sped off in a cloud of dust and a hail of bullets from Gene's gun.
"You idiot!" Alex yelled at Gene's back.
"Guv, what do we do now?" Ray pleaded. Hoping Gene would have an answer.
"Bugger" was the only answer Gene could provide right now.

To Be Continued....

(C)Mark Cunliffe 2010

Lazy Sunday Afternoon

2012-02-26T18:44:00.001Z

Nothing much on today and little energy so I've spent the afternoon watching some of my DVD of Bouquet Of Barbed Wire

Trouble is, after watching this I always feel like going out and getting a bottle of Blue Nun and a Vesta curry - It's so 70s!

That said though, it is still a relevant, sophisticated and sexy brew treading the fine line between superior incestuous mature drama and the sort of thing Howards Way and Jackie Collins would gleefully do!

Despite the feeling of being fully immersed in the 70s middle class milieu I don't actually feel it's dated all that much. The pacing is fairly strong and quite speedy for that era, the acting is by and large first rate; Frank Finlay is impeccable as always as the father with seemingly impure thoughts and Susan Penhaligon as the cause of them, is perfect as the spoilt little daddy's girl.

Lastly, if anything, it still shits all over the tepid and pointlessly melodramatic Trevor Eve version of last year.

So, pass the Blue Nun I say!

The Legend Of The 7 Golden Vampires

2012-02-26T14:59:00.002Z

The Legend Of The 7 Golden Vampires was Hammer's last ditch attempt to bring fresh blood (pun intended or not? You decide) into their ever popular (certainly Stateside who routinely insisted on including The Count-and if possible Christopher Lee-in their vampire films) yet running on empty Dracula series.

To be honest, I'm not sure quite why they stopped going down the path of present day Dracula as they had done with Dracula AD 1972 and The Satanic Rites Of Dracula (previously reviewed here http://randomramblingsthoughtsandfiction.blogspot.com/2012/02/satanic-rites-of-dracula.html) but they did and just one year after, 1974, they did the time warp again, taking us a little bit further in their vampire chronology to the early 1900s and further still, to Hong Kong and an unusual collaboration with Chinese martial arts film makers, The Shaw Brothers. Taking the ever reliable Peter Cushing along for the ride as Van Helsing once more.

Peter Cushing

However, they proved unable to secure the increasingly sniffy Christopher Lee, either because his disdain for the role was now obvious or because the role was so minimal anyway; with The Prince Of Darkness woken from his slumber to take on the appearance of a Chinese counterpart keen for his help in restoring his native countries blood suckers to their former glory. He remains in this guise right up until the film's climax (whether this was part of the original script or a ploy taken up once Lee proved unavailable or to keep the US happy I'm not entirely sure) Hammer and The Shaw Brothers instead had to make do with John Forbes Robertson

John Forbes Robertson

He's not bad as such, it's just that the role is so slight, he has little chance to make his mark upon it. To be honest the film would have been much better without Van Helsing's arch nemesis any way, especially because he is completely surplus to the plot and has a very weak send off, they should have concentrated on the Oriental vampires more I feel.

The plot is as always simple enough (and just as well for a film that runs to just 85 minutes and licks along at a fair old rate too) Van Helsing, on the University lecture circuit, takes in China where his help is requested by Hsi Ching, played by David Chiang, to rid a village of the resurrected Seven Golden Vampires. They travel to the village,a ragtag bunch made up of Ching's brothers and his rather comely sister played by Shih Szu, Van Helsing's son Leland (and if we disregard the iffy continuity then we're meant to accept that this is Lorimar's father-Lorimar the vampire hunting grandson of the original Van Helsing that Cushing played in the previous two modern day movies) who is played by Robin Stewart of Haunted House Of Horror and Bless This House fame (clearly making his big break away from productions with 'house' in the title! Ooh imagine the Haunted Bless This House Of Horror? Sid James drinking the blood of virgins and cackling?!) and Julie Ege (and her chest) playing a bored emancipated Swedish socialite on a round the world journey.

David Chiang

Shih Szu

Robin Stewart and Julie Ege

Julie Ege and her chest

It's hard not to like this film, for pure kitsch value alone; witnessing the mishmash of kung fu and vampires, and more than a nod to The Seven Samurai too. I'm sure that with the mania for kung fu films at the time here in the west it was equally engaging when it came out for the cinema goers and horror fans of 1974. But it wasn't enough to save the vampire series, nor Hammer itself which continued to trudge on aimlessly for a handful of films until the end of the decade.

It was co-directed by Hammer veteran Roy Ward Baker and Shaw Brothers' Chang Cheh, though Baker is the only one credited and the production was somewhat troubled, with Hammer viewing the partnership ill advised and the studios provided in Hong Kong unsatisfactory. The characters, other than the previously established Van Helsing, are paper thin. Certainly the brothers fail to make any impact because their sole characteristics are based on what weaponry or fighting skill they have. They have no lines and only brief close ups and the most cursory of introductions, so when it comes to their brave demises in battle it's hard to care. Of the Chinese actors only Chiang and Szu impress on any level because they're the only ones the script have time for and ultimately attempts to pair them off with Ege and Stewart respectively in bland and unconvincing romantic subplots, made all the more unconvincing given that Stewart is clearly gunning for Ege until he spots Szu, and her admirer lost, Ege just seems to plump for Chiang!

Preparing for battle; the stakes are high!

Where the film impresses is in it's decidedly creepy and distinctively unique and alien depiction of Oriental vampire lore. The slo mo scenes of them bursting forth from the ground is especially eyecatching as is the shuffling, hopping gait they have as they rush to battle, seemingly accompanied by the soundtrack of electronic wasps or, that scourge of last year's World Cup, the vuvuzela (something which always sounded to me like a euphemism a middle class mother would adopt for her daughter's genitals! 'Imogen, don't play with your vuvuzela, there's a good girl' Haha)

And of course, if you're a martial arts fan you'll love the balletic dance of death that the brothers and their sister undertake when battling the vampires, the undead and numerous mountain bandits throughout.

As ever though, it's the peerless Peter Cushing who impresses; rising above the poor lines and substandard material with a gentlemanly professional air. He even manges to convince us in one scene where he details that the vampires of Europe are subdued by the sign of the crucifix, whereas here in the Orient, it will be the image of The Lord Buddha...just as well he didn't have to knock together one of those impromptu as he did so many times with the crucifix in previous films! It's also interesting to note the costume he wears here, as I'm fairly certain it's the same one he wore in the Doctor Who films some ten years prior

Which given that Cushing would occasionally buy the costumes he wore for films would not surprise me in the least. I fear this outfit was ruined for this film however, as there's a rather distressing and possibly accidental moment where Cushing, repelling the vampires, falls into the campfire. It's cut away from very quickly, leaving the audience to wonder and fear for him, and the jacket is charred and torn in later scenes.

An odd, but enjoyable and cultish swansong to Hammer's interpretation of Dracula.

The Fast Show

2012-02-26T01:56:00.000Z

In a similar vein to Mitchell and Webb's affectionate spoofing of bawdy 70s comedies I posted earlier, here's The Fast Show with their mickey take of the Confessions...films

A Bawdy 1970s Hospital

2012-02-25T23:30:00.001Z

Classic sketch from Mitchell and Webb

I want to work in a bawdy 1970s hospital!

Valerie Leon

2012-02-25T20:47:00.001Z

Yes yes yes, I know I've blogged about her once already but it's my blog and well, who wouldn't miss an opportunity to post pictures of Valerie in her prime?

Out On Blue Six : George Harrison

2012-02-25T18:45:00.000Z

Today would have been George's 69th birthday. To mark that occasion, here is some of the remarkable music made by 'The Best Beatle'

Love you George.

End Transmission

Home Before Midnight

2012-02-25T17:35:00.003Z

Home Before Midnight is, for me, Pete Walker's best film. It's certainly his most mainstream, moving away from his previously exploitative style whilst still telling a highly controversial story, that of a twenty eight year old man falling in love with a (unknown to him) fourteen year old girl.

'Music Man on Teenage Sex Charge' screams the press

No, not Gary Glitter!

The trailer makes it plain; "Mike and Ginny are in love" it announces "The law has another word for it : Rape" And thus the plot is set. Mike, a songwriter for popular band Bad Accident, stops for hitchhiker Ginny early one morning and whilst giving her a lift, asks her out on a date.
His mistake? He didn't ask her age.

Ginnny spends the night with him and a follow up date is arranged, sailing at the weekend, and at this stage Mike discovers the truth; Ginny is only fourteen.

But he's in too deep to give her up however much he'd like.

However, it's only a couple of weeks before Ginny's parents come to their senses and start to query the relationship and the authorities are called....

Mike

Ginny

In love

It's a bold film and a contentious subject matter, even for today's standards (indeed, possibly even more by today's standards) but Walker and his screenwriter Murray Smith (Cool It Carol, Strangers, Bulman, The Paradise Club) address it from an intriguing non condemning point of view; that society is out of touch with the behaviour and sexual desires of it's mid teen age 'children'. They present a story in which Mike, far from being a predatory sexual showbusiness monster, is actually a sensitive, albeit foolish young man who genuinely loves Ginny and as such the crime presented is victimless, whereas the reaction it garners from society - the determination to accept Ginny is an innocent non sexual child who is attacked by an unsympathetic cruel male predator- is indicative of a more widespread and pressing problem.

Sadly it's an argument that the film is only marginally successful in exploring. Ginny, on being confronted by the police and the threat of being placed into care, regresses and resorts to the perceptions others have about the child she is, and lies about the relationship, claiming Mike raped her; which is of course what the authorities wanted to hear all along, and the case goes to trial.

In having Ginny twist and turn at each moment, the viewer is uncertain just what Walker is trying to say. For me, part of me thinks that despite the intentions Walker clearly has, as stated above, there is also the suggestion that a fourteen year old like Ginny cannot know what she wants, and if she did she'd have remained honest to Mike and her feelings for him, and this ultimately detracts from the other argument. Certainly the fact that she has five men noticeably lusting after her in the movie; two of whom she dismisses straight away (the lorry driver who offers her a lift and the band's manager, both of whom are played by distinctly unattractive actors) whilst the other three, Mike and two schoolboys, she submits to. Cruelly dropping one of the schoolboys upon meeting Mike, and the ultimately dropping Mike when she cries rape and falling for the second schoolboy.

Surely someone who is in love would not be so heartless and immature to those she allegedly gave her heart too, if she were mature enough to love in the first place that is?
It muddies the message. Especially when she can baulk at the sexual advances of the boy her own age yet say to Mike "Is there anything I can do for you, sexually?" and this jaw dropping line "You're even hornier since you found out I'm fourteen"

The acting is rather good. James Aubrey as Mike had form playing in other sexually themed and controversial dramas such as ITV's A Bouquet Of Barbed Wire, whereas Alison Elliot, then eighteen/nineteen gives a good enough performance in the difficult character of the four or so years her junior Ginny, and is incredibly attractive to boot.

Some men would do time for Ginny in a shot!

Walker shies away from the errors of other directors (such as the casting of the fifteen year old Linda Hayden in the Lolita like Baby Love and the equally fifteen year old Olivia Hussey in Romeo and Juliet) by casting the mature Elliot. As such the sexual scenes and nudity are in no way exploitative (itself a huge leap from his other works such as The House Of Whipcord, Tiffany Jones and The Flesh And Blood Show) even if they do on occasions feel like the dirty mac brigade's ultimate dream in that Ginny is clearly a capable and sophisticated lover. But in presenting such a tale anyway, you're bound to paint yourself into that corner. People will find what they want in it.

In placing Mike in the world of showbusiness and music, Walker gains two cameos of note; the first is DJ and Old Grey Whistle Test presenter Annie Nightingale, who interviews the band and Mike

Oh I wish I was a punk rocker with flowers in my hair

The second is that of DJ and Top Of The Pops presenter David 'Diddy' Hamilton. This was his second film with Walker, having previously appeared as himself in Tiffany Jones. Here, he is seen leaving a club with a young girl and congratulating Mike on his latest hit before pointing to his female companion and saying-and this will make your skin crawl; "Right now I've got to deal with this hot shot"

Mike replies "Good Luck" and 'Diddy' concludes with a chuckling "She may need it!"

Diddy in a God awful outfit

Adding an air of authenticity to the band, or at least hoping to is the casting of Mick Jagger's younger brother Chris as Bad Accident's frontman

He's got the moves like (Chris) Jagger!

Unfortunately the band-whose music was provided by 'Jigsaw' (no, me neither) completely fail to convince as hitters in London's post punk scene. Indeed their music, which provides the soundtrack across many a scene of Mike and Ginny's lyrical courtship, is schmaltzy and twee. And, if you ask me, the name Bad Accident sucks like Jenna Jamieson.

Juliet Harmer (Adam Adamant Lives!) and Mark Burns (A Day At The Beach) play Ginny's parents. They're a rather odd middle class suburban couple who at times seem to encourage and condone out of hand Ginny's gallivanting with a young man in a Jensen, or her staying out all night to see a fashion show which she has to hitchhike home from. It's staggering to see such lack of parental concern one moment-they pore over Ginny's photo alongside Mike in the NME as if it were an especially good school report!- and then outright horror and alerting the police the next. Indeed, a more blunt person may say what else did they expect?
Also there is some suggestion of Burns being somewhat creepy, and possibly, given half the chance, the type who really would be a predator on young girls. He smacks the bottom of Ginny's more carefree friend Carol (played by 'Page 3 Stunna' Debbie Linden, who tragically died a drugs related death in 1997 at just 36) and even smacks Ginny's bum and calls her sexy at one point.

Juliet Harmer and Mark Burns

Debbie Linden as Carol

Also in the cast are veteran actors Richard Todd (a bloody hero) and Patrick Barr as the defence and presiding judge at Mike's trial respectively. The latter being a tongue in cheek payback to his previous role as a senile retired judge manipulated to sentence corporal and capital punishment to young girls in House Of Whipcord

Richard Todd, adding class

Patrick Barr as a sane (enough) judge, this time!

There's also a nice turn from virtually everyone's comic foil Ivor Roberts as the investigating policeman, playing it dead straight as befits the story

If this policeman liked Bad Accident but hated the crime Mike was guilty of,

would we have an example of the fan hitting the shit?!

It is a surprisingly mature film from Walker, one in which as I've said before he seems to be stepping away from, or at least changing the perception of, his exploitation roots (something he'd do again in his final film, 1983's affectionate horror spoof The House Of The Long Shadows uniting veterans Peter Cushing, Christopher Lee, Vincent Price and John Carradine alongside his own 'bogeywoman', Sheila Keith)
There is no violence within this, and the nudity is in general key to the film. Indeed the sex scenes, by today's standards, are very tame. There are however occasions where we see a pointless pub stripper and Ginny and Carol have a conversation in the changing rooms starkers which does seem to suggest he couldn't shake off his fondness for pure titillation completely.
It's a film that has some genuinely good dramatic moments; notably the sheer creepiness of a paedophile calling the bailed Mike to congratulate him and ask for all the details. And there's a real feeling of deeply unfair doors being closed on Mike as the story progresses.
It's beautifully shot too, with wonderful cinematography from Peter Jessop who seems to construct the whole film with a hazy glow suggestive of a waking dream (or nightmare for Mike) This stands up very well today, as such soft focus now suggests a rosy nostalgic glow for the late 70s too.

Peter Jessop's lovely dreamy cinematography

In summary, if you're open minded enough for the argument and the sometimes flawed depiction and you have a fondness for 70s British cinema I heartily recommend this film. It's available via Odeon's 'Best Of British Collection' and is reasonably priced on several websites.

Out On Blue Six : The Fall

2012-02-24T21:42:00.000Z

I think you either love The Fall or hate 'em. I love 'em

End Transmission

Great Moments In Doctor Who Part 4

2012-02-24T19:48:00.000Z

From the abstract existential political satire, The Happiness Patrol, 1988; McCoy at his most compelling...

Sherlock Holmes : Seance For A Vampire - Under The Magnifying Glass

2012-02-24T18:08:00.002Z

Sherlock Holmes: Seance For A Vampire is a novel that first appeared in 1994 by Fred Saberhagen and has been reprinted as of 2010 to be included in the Titan Books series 'The Further Adventures Of Sherlock Holmes'

Having previously read and enjoyed last year's Sherlock Holmes and the Breath Of God by Guy Adams, also by Titan which featured a cast of characters that included Dr John Silence, real life occultist Aleister Crowley, Julian Karswell and Carnacki (and currently enjoying dipping in to Kim Newman's Moriarty and The Hound Of The D'Ubervilles also from that publishing house) I was keen to get my grips on another other wordly/supernatural Holmes novelisation, and this one that sees Holmes working alongside Bram Stoker's infamous creation Dracula, really whetted my appetite.

Regrettably, it's a big disappointment.

Saberhagen has two of the most iconic characters in literature, an early 1900s setting, people being brought back from the dead, shady seances and a long held curse upon a family...and he makes the whole affair irredeemably dull.

I know some Holmes buffs would baulk at the novel's premise; that Holmes is the cousin of Dracula and that his mother was bitten by a vampire during his and Mycroft's childhood. When a case of a supernatural bent arises and Holmes is briefly kidnapped, Watson must call upon his friend's cousin to save the day.

Now, whilst I do consider myself a Holmes buff, I'm not one of those who refuses to read other authors interpretations on The Great Detective, and being a fan of Dracula and horror too, this appealed to me greatly, but not that I'd ever class this as suggested familial link as anything close to the canon. It's just a bit of fun, and there's nothing wrong with that.

Were it actually fun to read that is!

Have I mentioned it's dull?

Saberhagen's grasp on Holmes, Watson and Price Dracula is routinely slight. He never convinces the reader these are the great creations of Conan Doyle and Stoker respectively, indeed they could be anyone so diluted are they in this tale. Holmes especially is unforgivably vague. And the representation of Dracula on the side of the angels immediately dilutes the very core of his character and what makes him so enjoyable to read or watch.

This could have been so much better. Glancing through the reviews on Amazon I noticed one far more favourable reviewer than I'm afraid I can be, suggest that this book could have been made as a Universal horror in the 1940s, uniting two of that companies greatest serial actors, Bela Lugosi and Basil Rathbone.

He also posits a 60s version, from Hammer, with Christopher Lee as The Count and Peter Cushing as Holmes

My own mind raced with possibilities; what about the similarly glasses wearing combination of Gary Oldman and Robert Downey Junior?

But no, if this were to be likened to any kind of film I'd say it would be one of those deathly dull and too po faced Europudding affairs that Lee and or Cushing occasionally found themselves involved with in the early 70s. Probably with a cast each speaking their own language and hilariously dubbed later.

I really cannot recommend this book alas. I can however, recommend Kim Newman's Moriarty and Guy Adams' The Breath Of God.

Oh well, my next book should be better. Picked up What A Carve Up! by Jonathan Coe for 99p in Oxfam yesterday. Bargain!

Out On Blue Six : Roxy Music

2012-02-23T09:51:00.000Z

Sending this apt tune out across the galaxy today, Roxy Music were my favourite band as a late teen/early twenty something. This is Out Of The Blue....

End Transmission

Carnaby Street Chills : Haunted House Of Horror

2012-02-22T16:05:00.002Z

Haunted House Of Horror is the rather lurid, box ticking and frankly meaningless title (it was originally called the much better The Dark) of a rather hokey but enjoyable Tigon British/AIP horror from 1969 starring America's singer cum teen matinee idol Frankie Avalon, Dennis Price, Jill Haworth, Richard O'Sullivan, Veronica Doran, George Sewell, Mark Wynter, Robin Stewart, Gina Warwick, Carol Dilworth and Julian Barnes. It was directed by Michael Armstrong and produced by Tony Tenser.

The plot is a simple enough generic one; a group of swinging London twenty-somethings bored at a party decide to spend the night ghost hunting and having a rather half arsed seance in a supposedly haunted and deserted house. Whilst there, and each of our revellers are exploring the house alone, one of their number, Gary (Mark Wynter) who works at 'Mates' boutique in Carnaby Street no less, is brutally stabbed to death.

The actual 'Haunted House Of Horror'...

...and the horror that occurs within

Ringleader Chris (Frankie Avalon) persuades the group to leave the house and not report the murder to the police; Some of them have criminal records (a vague referral to a drugs charge a year earlier) and one of them, he deduces, is clearly the murderer.

With the police investigating the missing Gary, our heroes are wracked with guilt and fear. They decide to return to the house to re-enact the events of that grisly night and hope the culprit confesses. But more violence awaits one of them, whilst another narrowly avoids death when the moon goes behind a cloud revealing the killer's long held fear of the dark...

Haunted House Of Horror is a real curio caught between the decades. It is clearly trying very hard to be a definitive up to date swinging sixties article (with its location shooting on Carnaby Street, hip design and references to drugs charges and orgies) yet seems to pre-empt storywise the slasher boom which began in the 1980s.

1969 Carnaby Street in the film's opening sequences.

Mark Wynter's character works in 'Mates', meanwhile unrequited lover George Sewell stalks Gina Warwick's Sylvia who works in the boutique opposite

But to muddy the wannabe zeitgeist further the film chose to cast in the lead role of Chris, Frankie Avalon, star of 1950s favourites like Beach Party ; a totally out of date teenybopper from the previous decade who looks like he's simply been plucked from that era and planted in 1969, looking totally lost and unfashionable as a result. Yet we're meant to believe he's - as Jill Haworth's character Sheila announces in his debut scene - "The epitome of swinging London" ?!

It's a complete own goal and one wonders just what the reasoning was, especially as the original casting was to include no less than Scott Walker (in the role of the ill fated Gary) and David Bowie (mooted as Richard) but producers feared they would jar with Avalon and chose him over them!

Beach Party's Frankie Avalon,

the epitome of Swinging London...apparently!

Mark Wynter as sweet faced Richard,

a role originally offered to David Bowie

Mark Wynter as Gary,

a role originally offered to Scott Walker and Peter McEnery

(Note the Oz poster)

The rest of the cast though are very capable and more or less manage to invest some fun and character into what are essentially cyphers. Jill Haworth as Sheila and Gina Warwick as the romantically complicated Sylvia (she's being stalked by older man George Sewell and has the hots for Mark Wynter who is about to marry Carol Dilworth's Dorothy) provide the genuinely striking and fashionable Dollybird quota

Jill Haworth by candlelight,

Candles feature a lot in this film

Gina Warwick in a fab dress,

trying to lure Julian Barnes

But perhaps the best roles and actors in terms of sheer fun go to Richard O'Sullivan as Peter and Veronica Doran as Madge. These effectively provide comic relief, though the future Man Of The House star is prone to hot headedness and grim seriousness when the knives are, literally, out and Madge descends to frantic tears. They're a very endearing couple though; Doran being the clearly more sexually interested of the two (not that O' Sullivan isn't of a one track mind, but it's for the drink in his case) and her physique is played for laughs throughout. Most notably, a scene that I laugh at far more than I should, when she struggles to fit through a hole in the wall of the house! *Fnar, fnar*

Above all, for small supporting characters, they feel the most real and are certainly the most likeable.

Madge and Peter;

They love each other really

Richard O'Sullivan as Peter

Madge trying to attract Peter's attention on the dancefloor

Veronica Doran as Madge,

with Gill Haworth as Sheila

Also of note in the cast is the safe pair of hands, Dennis Price, who took the role of the police Inspector after original choice, horror legend, Boris Karloff fell ill. It's not much of a role, but Price is always watchable and never seemed to take his tongue out of his cheek in such roles.

Less successful is Julian Barnes who despite looking a little like a fair haired George Harrison is woefully inept as an actor. Unless of course he was determined to make Richard as fey and wooden as possible, in which case he succeeded.

You do wish the production would have had the courage of their convictions and placed Bowie in this role.

For their hip credentials as members of the swinging scene (the drugs charges and the harmless sounding suggestion of "Let's have an orgy" upon their arrival at the 'haunted house') the gang come off more like Scooby Doo's mates as they go about the house clutching candles, cracking jokes and admitting they're frightened

It's actually a rather twee and enjoyable a depiction now but you imagine it must have been frustrating and lame for real life counter culture immersed teens at the time. But then, would they really be bothered in watching a small horror film at the local ABC or Roxy anyway?

Where the film isn't lame is in it's shocking yet short, sharp depiction of violence in the previously mentioned demise of Gary and later, with two other characters (the identities of whom I'll not reveal-much-here)

Ouch! Right in the beach balls!

Overall, it's a rather no holds barred downbeat ending really that proves that that the tone of the piece was somewhat schizophrenic, definitely a foot in a few camps really.

Equally muddled is the plot motivations and several things are never fully or satisfactorily tied up in the end.

The film's location shooting is rather good, the aforementioned Carnaby Street for example (though already in '69 perhaps losing it's hip credentials, as someone once said, 'when Sammy Davis Jnr started shopping there you knew the scene was over) and Bank Hall in Bretherton, Lancs and Birkdale Palace Hotel, in my nearby Southport providing exterior and interiors for 'the house'. There's also the famous 'The Case Is Altered' 17th Century Public House of Middlesex (which has appeared in many things, including Campion, and is still thankfully a working pub to this day; http://www.caseisalteredpinner.co.uk/)

Also the interiors of the character's homes are rather fab and well designed to suggest the swinging era as these photos show

The film occasionally appears in the wee small hours on BBC2 and, if you tune in after chucking out time, a few beers in you and maybe a few more at hand, it's a pleasing distraction for ninety minutes. It's also available on DVD as part of Odeon's 'The Best Of British Collection'

The Best Concept Ever!

2012-02-22T13:50:00.001Z

I love this blogosphere, because you get to find out about brilliant things you may not have been aware of.

This week I stumbled across possibly the best concept ever and some brilliant artwork. I've you're a fan of the kind of things I am, then you'll be salivating at this prospect that I am about to share with you.

It's a comic book from the talented artist Alex Ronald http://alexronald68.blogspot.com and 'The Emperor' entitled.....

Vampires? .... Vixens? .... The Wehrmacht?

What's not to like?!

I must confess I'm late to the party here, as this gem first appeared in the short lived comic monthly Wasted (Editions 7 and 8 I believe, now rare as rocking horse droppings)

But the good news is they're busily working away on a one off release due sometime this year that will incorporate what has gone before; a 'director's cut' if you will, which has been described by the authors as a mix of 'Carry On Screaming and Where Eagles Dare' Again, what's not to like?!

I for one cannot wait!

I strongly recommend you follow Alex's brilliant blog for more details if you're similarly excited as I am. Big thanks to Alex for allowing me to share some of his fabulous artwork here.

Bombs away....with bite!

Story Time - Falcon : Their Place In Rock History

2012-02-22T01:06:00.003Z

For many music lovers, Prog is a dirty word; an era best forgot. But to those who accept, admire and wish to re-address prog rock, then look no further than Falcon.

Falcon in 1972

l to r; Frith, Dell-Taylor, Wicksworth, King and Bannerman

Falcon, sometimes known as King's Falcon, were for many the great white hope of the progressive rock music scene. The line up of leader Roger King, lead vocals and guitar, Ray Wicksworth, guitar and sometime vocalist, Lester Frith on bass, Tony Bannerman the drummer and Erik Dell-Taylor, the undisputed Viking like wizard of the keyboard and Moog synth, became something for music fans to admire and something for musicians to aspire to.

Falcon's early days can be traced back to the public schoolboy friends King and Wicksworth who in early 1967 started a blues band, The Roger King Sound. Frankly these early stages were mildly derivative of a lot of the then scene and success eluded them until they fully ensconced themselves into the faux Edwardian revival which occurred in The Summer Of Love. With King being at his most strident and powerful, often a key characteristic of his personality, he rechristened the group King's Falcon and, with his love of English history and his O Level Art, he adopted and devised his logo of Henry VIII and a blind captive falcon. Posters began to appear up and down Carnaby Street and the Kings Road creating a healthy buzz for a band who were beginning to sound more folkier and far more strange. As DJ Adam 'Muff' Peelman said around the time, "Noisy odd buggers aren't they?" and he was right.

In 1969 the band released their album Dawn Execution and it was immediately-well within a couple of months anyway-an overnight success. For a brief period that spring and summer the boys were riding the crest of a wave commercially, however personally the cracks were beginning to show and there was turmoil. Many believed Dawn's Execution, with its references to Hampton Court and the Henry VIII imagery , to be solely about that period in English history. However, what few fans realised was that at the heart of the album-the broken heart if you may-was the disintegration of frontman Roger King's to his first wife, Dawn., and her affair and subsequent relationship with the band's drummer and Welsh Druid, Tony Bannerman.

King, the driving influence of the group, was now suddenly at the wheel of a runaway car. Literally too, as after an LSD binge (from which he still receives flashbacks) he crashed the car into a tree and was admitted to hospital for treatment. From there, he was diagnosed as having suffered a nervous breakdown brought on by an extensive and prolific drug intake that only a week earlier Jimi Hendrix had warned him about.
He was admitted into a mental home and many presumed the band was over.

However the band continued, like a Falcon rising from a phoenix rising from the flames. Renamed simply Falcon, with Wicksworth now at the helm, they achieved little success; unless you count the novelty record 'I'm A Charming Gnome' which is still a hit at children's parties today.

Finally, a fitter and well Roger King returned to the band he created. For many this was the golden age of Falcon, an age with a lot more creativity and autonomy for King, cautious of his health had to declare the band a team effort and consent to Tony and Dawn's fruitful relationship.

In 1972, they scored a huge international hit with their concept album, Daemonologie, based on the witch trials of the 1600s.

Daemonologie by Falcon, Album Cover, 1972

Some would say this is their finest work, a seminal piece occasionally straddling metal whilst still being deeply prog and a sublime example of the genre as any.

Featuring such classic tracks as 'The Number Of The Beast' running at 7 minutes and 6 seconds (or 6.66) and the excellent 10 minute suite 'Miss Cooper's Impes-Part 1; Jack, Part 2; Prickears and Part 3; Frog' as well as the excellent 'Hopkins and Stearne' which opened side two and ran for a staggering 14 minutes but is so good it actually only feels like 13 minutes.

Daemonologie by Falcon, Album Back Cover, 1972

The seeds were sown. With their love of Albion and their creative sounds, Falcon were the biggest success progressive rock had seen to date, and The Old Grey Whistle Test was their oyster. Who can forget their glorious appearances on there? Nor Pan's Peoples own unique interpretation of 'Suckling Sabbat' when the band infamously failed to appear on Tops Of The Pops? The result of an unfortunate and near fatal incident in which Frith near choked to death on Dell-Taylor's own vomit, at a Little Chef on the A53, which fans still flock to to this day.

For many, the band could never top this classic and rightly revered album, though their are several ardent admirers of their later concept works; Spring Heeled Jack and The Pied Piper. But the piper had played his tune for the last time (though no children were harmed) and the band reached an amicable split in 1981.

But what became of these rock gods?

Roger King is now fairly reclusive and his solo work is sparse, but welcome. He has made a return to his blues roots of late, working with Clapton, but his penchant for prog and Olde England is still noticeable in his soundtrack for Nic Gilliam-Russell's epic, bloated yet realistic and grimy Arthurian film Mordred made in 1990 which he demanded percentage rights from and effectively sunk Gerry of Gerry and The Pacemakers Threadbare Films. He now lives on a multi acre farmland in Glastonbury, with his sixteen year old girlfriend whom he met whilst serving on the PTA board of his local school. Last year, in an account which is already now legendary and often humourously related, he complained to neighbour Michael Eavis about the 'unholy noise' of the festival wearing only the girl's nightie and carrying a pump action shotgun.
He still has those LSD flashbacks.

His drummer, Tony Bannerman, who won the heart of his original fair maiden Dawn way back in 1968, still lives with her, happily, on a farm in Wales. They now speak only Welsh, own a witch museum, and sell fresh produce to passers by of a gullible nature.

Lester Frith the bass player achieved some surprising success with his solo album 'Slap This' which Melody Maker lauded, upon its release in 1979, as 'Not as annoying as you'd think for an album that sounds like wet fish being delivered in a slapdash fashion on a hostelries doorstep'. He lives quietly and security consciously on Ibiza with a lisping hairy lipped houseboy.
He remains unmarried.

Ray Wickworth is probably the most commercially successful of the group., writing several musicals for The West End, successes such as the Biblical themed 'Barabbas!', 'The Pit!' based on the Nigel Kneale Sci Fi TV show 'Quatermass And The Pit' and misfires like 'MILF!' the ill advised 'sex opera'. A successful businessman; he has fingers in many pies, notably bakeries, and is still touring various live projects to this day. He wrote last year's Eurovision entry for the UK which score nul points.
He spends his time in LA, Spain and Kent and has a ponytail.

Sadly 'The Master Of The Moog', the finest keyboard player this country ever produced, Erik Dell-Taylor, succumbed to a debilitating alcohol, hash and Haribo addiction and suffered sever burns when he set himself alight after smoking a Camberwell Carrott in bed. He continued with his lifelong love of antiques, running a small shop in Tintagel moderately well in the late 70s and 80s with a speciality in broadswords and pistols. But his time away from the band was short and dogged, literally, by rumours of random bestiality.
A shadow of his former self, he eventually died in a tragic flintlock accident in 1990.

But their music lives on.

Their place in rock history so richly deserved.

(c) Mark Cunliffe; Story and Art. Originally appeared in' Hackwriters' Feb 2008 and 'Eternal Lines'. Revised and Updated 2012.

Taking The Piss and Taking The PIF

2012-02-21T21:41:00.005Z

Continuing the Dollybird strand, I think it's fair to see 60s and 70s starlet Linda Hayden was rather stunning....

So with that in mind, what possessed her to go out with her 'Confessions...' co star, the gormless Neanderthal and Southport's own Robin Askwith?!

Definitely batting well above his average there.

Right?

And from taking the piss to Taking The PIF, my occasional series in Public Information Films.

Watching the start of the new series of Timothy Spall's All At Sea on BBC4, I couldn't help recall this classic....

Girls With Guns

2012-02-21T18:26:00.000Z

The beautiful Francoise Dorleac (sister to Catherine Deneuve) in Ken Russell's Billion Dollar Brain; the third and final Harry Palmer movie of the 60s starring Michael Caine. It was to be Francoise's final film; sadly she died in a car crash very soon after completion.

Film Watch

2012-02-21T14:26:00.000Z

Scouring the Radio Times today I noticed two films on over the weekend that I thought I should point out for regular readers, as they're both good, though rather different!

First up to bat is the little seen Michael Reeves (of The Witchfinder General fame) Swinging 60s chiller The Sorcerers starring Boris Karloff and future Return Of The Saint 'I can't believe it's not Roger Moore' himself, Ian Ogilvy

The plot concerns an elderly scientific couple (Karloff and Catherine Lacey) who develop a new method of hypnosis to share the experiences of others, primarily the young. Ogilvy stars as their surrogate, a bored young man, who through the insane desires of Lacey finds himself performing increasingly violent acts.

It's on in the wee small hours of Saturday night/Sunday morning on BBC2.

Next up is the sadly all too real terror that spread throughout the 1970s thanks to Germany's Red Army Faction, harrowingly and convincingly told in The Baader Meinhoff Complex

Not an easy watch, but if you're into your recent history and you like Euro cinema then it's definitely worth catching on BBC4, Sunday night.

Nebulous

2012-02-21T11:07:00.002Z

Nebulous was a very funny Radio 4 sitcom created by Graham (Ideal) Duff and Mark Gatiss, long before he was writing Sherlock and playing his brother, Mycroft. It spoofed old science fiction TV like Quatermass, Doctor Who and Doomwatch

It also boasted some terrific casting by including the legends David Warner and Graham Crowden

So, if you haven't come across it before and you like radio comedy and sci fi, old British TV/Film greats, than take a listen to this debut episode, it's very funny...

This Could Be Her Sex Face.....

2012-02-21T00:02:00.001Z

....And I'd still be more than happy

Eva Green *sighs*

Because even pulling a deliberately silly face, she's still gorgeous.

Something to get me out of the doldrums of faulty DVD recorder hell and dedicated to Michael, our Scottish correspondent, who apparently under our gentleman's agreement gets her on weekends (Ha, we wish!) and to Jo, who thinks I post quite enough of my favourites on here ;P

ARGH!!!!

2012-02-20T21:36:00.002Z

My DVD player woes continue

Returned the wretched thing last week complaining it was faulty. Got a call Friday saying yes it is faulty and we can't locate the issue to fix it, so come on in and pick a replacement.

Went in today, bought a VHS/DVD combi for a tenner extra.

Tried to record on it tonight....

And the damned thing doesn't bloody work!!!!

Pissed off is really seriously not the word.

And my favourite forum online has been down since Saturday :(

And so the bloody cycle continues again tomorrow....

Technology be damned!

^Random technology related ad to amuse

Forget Spooks....

2012-02-20T20:16:00.002Z

As much as I liked Spooks (well series 1 and 2; I like many others started to lose interested once Tom, Zoe and Danny left) I've long since felt that when it comes to great spy drama on television, you can forget it, because the best one is not well known enough, ran for 20 episodes from 1978 to 1980 (when The Cold War was still hot) on Yorkshire TV and goes by the name The Sandbaggers

I think I first came across it thanks to the Network DVD releases which started in 2006 or thereabouts, and I still turn to the 3 series even now; it's top late night, moody and reflective fayre!

The Sanbaggers in question is the name of a Special Operations Executive department of elite SIS officers who attend global hotspots at short notice., escorting defectors, rescuing operatives behind the Iron Curtain or carrying out assassinations. Needless to say, the pension isn't that great, life expectancy is very very short.

The Director of Operations is Neil Burnside played by Roy Marsden, a hardbitten, ruthless and rather charmless manipulator who nevertheless we are 100% behind at all times. He's not a hero, but he's all we've got and he's damn good.

His Number One Sandbagger is also not what we expect. For one, he hates violence despite an exceptional talent for it. He is former paratrooper, Willie Caine played by Ray Lonnen

Unlike Spooks, The Sanbaggers is far from glamourous. It's downright dirty, the stress and sweat palpable. More importantly it feels real; probably helped by the fact that there's a lot of rumours that the show's writer and creator, Ian McIntosh, a former Royal Navy Lt Commander, was involved in the intelligence community. The fact that he and his girlfriend disappeared in their single engine aircraft somewhere over the ocean Alaska in 1980 only continues the conspiracies.

Life and death decisions of global importance are made over cups of tea and dry biscuits in the back rooms of Whitehall, actually more like bartered for, as, the SIS like any other civil service department is depicted as one in which budget and manpower always seems to be a key issue. As such Burnside is forced to bang heads and fight tooth and claw for everything with SIS chief 'C' (Richard Vernon), his ex father in law and Permanent Under Secretary Sir Geoffrey Wellingham (Alan MacNaughtan) and officious Deputy Head of SIS Matthew Peele (Jerome Willis). Routinely the series depicts that our SIS seem to be the poor relation not just to the US (represented by laconic CIA agent in residence Joe Ross played by Bob Sherman) but to our enemies too. The department never truly win, more like it loses by a scratch or loses, badly and you feel that's the best option available. One imagines that is what it is really like.

If you're looking for corny one liners, plenty of sex, gadgets and action, a'la James Bond, then look away because this isn't the place for you. Indeed for a show that focuses on a group of men who do the stuff our Establishment would rather not think about, there's very little action, concentrating more on the battle with red tape than the battle with red communism.

The episodes are as tight as a drum and consist of conversations or arguments to and from those grey drab Whitehall offices and the atmospheric Ops Room which oversees missions with little more than a giant map, a bank of telephones and an endless supply of nicotine and strong coffee.

There is wit, but it's a mordant, dark and dry affair in keeping with the gritty realism on display. Whereas the only gadgets on display are service revolvers or rifles with telescopic lenses. Sex is non existent. As such it is far closer in spirit to the novels of John Le Carre or Len Deighton or that previous ITV espionage drama, Callan, starring Edward Woodward.

If you haven't seen this and you think Spooks is good or realistic then I urge you to pick this up. It will blow your mind.

It's influence is still felt today as the graphic novelist Greg Rucka based his excellent comic series Queen and Country upon it, which focused on his heroine Tara Chance.

I'll leave you with the show's opening titles, with a theme by the great Roy Budd...

Deep End

2012-02-20T10:13:00.001Z

A little bit of a love letter to one of my all time favourite films, Deep End

Jane Asher never looked better if you ask me, though I'm aware John Moulder Brown does it for the ladies, so I'll include him solo here and one of him and Jane and his bum (a male bum on here?! Blimey!)

And haven't they both aged well?! 59 for John and 65 for Jane

A truly beautiful, quirky, funny and heartbreaking film; emo before emo! And blessed with an amazing soundtrack from Cat Stevens

I love this movie. So chuffed when BFI Flipside released it as it meant upgrading my old copy, literally a copy as this year saw is its first legit release.

Being Human and Vampire Art

2012-02-19T22:46:00.000Z

At last Being Human series 4 actually showed some signs of life beyond George and Mitchell in tonight's episode 'The Graveyard Shift'

It's still a little bogged down in the grave portentous 'end of the world' prophecy gubbins, but at least it was without the Sara Connor style nonsense of the previous two weeks and firmly brought the comedy and the everyday scenarios back to the fore, which was what made Being Human so brilliant on its debut series.

Werewolf Tom is still the best of the (relative) newcomer played with a naturally comic touch by Michael Socha. I love his interesting mix of vulnerability and chivalry alongside his action packed survivor and warrior credentials.

We actually got to see more of Damien Molony's vampire Hal tonight, and discovered two things; one he's an Old One, Lord Hal in fact, and two, he has some chemistry with Socha's Tom, which is a relief and suggests that whilst the series may have jumped the shark a little, there may still be a future.

Also adding to tonight's comedy stakes (no pun intended) were Mark Williams, who I've long since held the belief is a genius when it comes to comedy, making his return as the unlikely ally Regus, The Vampire Recorder (complete with 'Team Edward' T Shirt) and Laura Patch as wannabe writer Michaela

So after a rather good episode, I'm finding favour with it once more, but I'm not as enamoured as I once was, and I can't help but think they're retreading a lot of the previous series plots and stylings (next week's trailer, in which a ghost visits and seemingly upsets the apple cart, setting our heroes at odds with one another, looks not unlike episode two of series one with Dean Lennox Kelly's werewolf, Tully)

Oh well, I'm still sticking with it at least.

And, whilst we're on the subject of vampires, I thought I'd share a couple of artworks featuring them

Robert McGinnis

Victoria Frances (I have this poster)

Victoria Frances

Artist unknown alas, but it's brilliant - Peter Cushing as Van Helsing putting paid to The Count

Penny Irving

2012-02-19T19:26:00.001Z

The 1970s had an abundance of crumpet and dollybirds. There wasn't just the crucial three-Valerie Leon, Margaret Nolan, Madeline Smith-nor even Caroline Munro, the 70s would also throw up other fondly remembered girls. Girls such as Hitchen's own, Penny Irving.

Born in 1955 she had a prolific time in the 70s when she was in her twenties (indeed, she was stripping off for films like Tiffany Jones at just 18) She became a familiar face, and body, in modelling jobs like Page 3, Mayfair and Top Of The Pops compilation albums (those crappy boot sale favourites with sound-alikes singing the hits of that year) and on TV in shows like Are You Being Served, Hi-De-Hi, Benny Hill and The Two Ronnies, as well as films like Carry On Dick and low budget exploitation films like Lindsey Shonteff's Big Zapper and perhaps most famously Pete Walker's The House of Whipcord

Yes, pocket Penny is still fondly remembered.

She's now long retired from acting and resides in London, keeping a low profile.

Tony and Diddy - And My Poll Results

2012-02-19T17:00:00.000Z

And they didn't win with this on last night's Let's Dance For Sport Relief?!

FIX!

Well the week long poll I instigated last Sunday has come to an end and here are the conclusions as to what you, my faithful blog readers, want to see on here, in order of most popular...

1. Film Stuff - 66%

2. Retro Gubbins - 33%

3. More About Me - 33%

4. Book Reviews - 33%

5. Pin Ups - 33%

6. Fiction - 16%

7. Pic Spam/Art - 16%

8. Music - 0%

Have to say bit gutted music came last, with no votes, as I'm quite obsessed with my music as the Out On Blue Six posts show! Oh well, I'll take on board what's been fed back. Thank you chaps and chapettes

Sod Off Sean Penn!

2012-02-19T15:17:00.000Z

A Howard Beale Show Blog Post

because.....

I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this any more!

The increasingly precarious political situation over the Falklands got that little bit more heated again this week, thanks to the Hollywood actor Sean Penn lending his support to the Argentine claim for the island after meeting with the Argentinian President Christina Kirchner.

A tit and a fascist

That's the Hollywood actor Sean Penn.

In his role as International UN milk monitor or something, no doubt he has a pretty little badge with his name on it and everything, he claimed that our ownership of The Falklands was a 'ludicrous and archaic commitment to colonialist ideology' and that it could not be 'tolerated' and that we should hand back what he called 'The Malvinas Island' to Argentina.

What a tit.

Do they even research what they're talking about or do they just concentrate on kissing what they perceive to be the underdog's arse in an attempt to look liberal and cool?

The Falklands is an island populated by British ex pats (and penguins) who want to remain British thank you very much. They were asked and, under democracy, not colonialism thank you, they elected to remain British. Quite unsurprisingly they didn't want to lose their democratic nationality to a Fascist dictatorship.

How would Penn like it if Texas was suddenly handed back over to the Mexicans without giving a thought to the American good ole boys who have made their livelihoods there? Or better still, his fellow neighbours around his hideaway home in Malibu? Does he not realise that is land born on colonial activities by the Spaniards? Ditto, the Spanish invaders who claimed Argentina with a huge amount of bloodshed to it's original native inhabitants?

Or does that not matter?

At least when the British came upon The Falklands, the island was completely uninhabited and more, was not wanted by the Argentinians at all. How exactly is that colonial rule then?

Perhaps Mr Penn feels that when his country invades countries like Iraq, primarily for its oil and with our much needed assistance, that isn't colonial action?

They have no claim whatsoever over The Falklands other than being geographically close. Indeed they're only now sticking their noses in again because of (our old friend again) the alleged oil found there, something they're deeply unhappy about not having ownership of.

They claim of course that they're deeply insulted and concerned by what they perceive to be an increased British military presence nearby and that the deployment of Prince William was, in Penn's words 'unthinkable' When the reality is The Prince as a serving officer has to be deployed somewhere, and as the RAF regularly deploy flight crews on six week tours to the island and as a helicopter pilot operating on sea rescue missions I fail to see how that is in any way 'provocative' as the Argentinians claim.

Penn demands that the UK sit down with the Argentinians under UN guidelines to discuss the situation and hand back the islands. It's amazing how much store he and his new Argentine friends put in the UN considering in 1982 those same Argentinians didn't give a damn about the UN and broke every rule in the book by invading The Falklands!

There's only one person who needs to get the hell out of The Falklands and that's Sean Penn; a whimpering bleeding heart himbo who, like many of his American superstar colleagues-George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie-desperately crave what they view 'a good cause' to jump upon.

I'd say he should stick to acting, but to be honest he's crap at that too. He should stick to being um, Madonna's ex. Yeah, that's his place in history.

Worse, on this week's 10 o' Clock Live, Saddam lover and extreme anti-British (despite living here) tit George Galloway leapt upon it claiming we have no right to be there either. Why is this wannabe extremist still allowed airtime? He's like a modern day Lord Haw Haw, the only place for him is The Tower, followed by the hangman's noose, like his dear friend Saddam.

Now, let's all play nice. Because remember, if we truly lose favour with Argentina, we'll have lost a lot; without it, where are we going to host Total Wipeout?!

Out On Blue Six : John Barry

2012-02-19T14:04:00.003Z

It's time to share the daddy of all film composers on Out On Blue Six, the late great John Barry. Here's just a selection of the outstanding soundtrack work he gave us, from the 1960s, starting with the apt 'Space March' from the Bond film You Only Live Twice, followed by his theme for The Knack and lastly, be bewitched by the stunning marriage of action sequence and beautiful music-'Romance For Guitars and Orchestra' ; 15 pivotal minutes from the Michael Caine movie Deadfall. Can you imagine a heist movie having such class now?

I don't think!

End Transmission.

Girls With Guns

2012-02-19T13:22:00.001Z

Jane Fonda, Cat Ballou, 1965

The Howard Beale Show

2012-02-18T18:44:00.003Z

Because I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take it any more!

*NB: Howard Beale was a character in the 1976 movie Network played by Peter Finch. A news anchor on the verge of a nervous breakdown, he goes into a spectacular, impassioned rant live on air about the state of the world and, instead of being shunted off air, his outburst galvanises the nation and he becomes his stations' surprise ratings hit, gaining his own show as 'the mad prophet of the airwaves, free to rant about whatever he sees fit. This then, is my own blog attempt to basically get whatever is doing my head in off my boobamajuggs. An attack on all that is 'The Rise Of The Idiots' *

I don't want to sound like a bitter old git, but....kids today are bastards aren't they? Not all of them of course, some are probably just like I, or any sane rational type, was at their age. No, I'm talking about the chav scum. The type Jeremy Kyle seems to have a constant direct line too for his horrendous morning TV show.

A little over a week ago I was walking to one of my local off licences. It was cold and it was dark and around 9pm. As I made it onto the pavement that led to the shop on the corner, some kids/teenagers huddled in the corner across the road thought it would be hilarious to shout repeatedly the word 'Gayboy' at me.

Now, I'm not gay but this is deeply offensive any way. What gives them the right to find someone's sexual preference so hilarious and to use it in such a derogatory manner, to take an aspect of someone-or in this case an aspect they perceived of someone, ie me-and to use it critically?

A few years ago, I'd have laughed it off, a few more years ago I'd have turned around and challenged them, but now, I just kept my head down scurried into the shop, bought my beer and scurried on out, vowing to not go out on such a trip so 'late' again, or at least not to do so alone. And that's wrong really, because why should one go about their daily business in fear? And fear from a bunch of irritating chavvy little shits too?

Unfortunately it's just the way it is. You have to be really careful these days as kids today feel like they're untouchable. They know the exact letter of the law and they know that you can't scold them, you can't threaten them, you can't touch them and you certainly can't teach them. They know too that the police will merely just ask them to move on, and they will, before returning to the spot not five minutes later.

We've now got a generation of people out there who feel they're invincible. They are sold on this idea of their basic Human Rights without actually realising or caring that such a right is a two way thing. These are the type of people we see who thought nothing of rioting across the country last year, or inciting to riot, clinging onto some vague notion of 'getting our taxes back' (half of them don't even pay them, they're too young!) and couldn't believe it when legal charges and hefty prison sentences were brought against them. You could almost her them stammer, petulantly, disbelievingly 'B-bu-but you can't do that? I have rights! I didn't do nuffink!'

No because stealing, destroying, causing a disturbance and putting the fear of God into genuine law abiding citizens who do pay their taxes is 'nuffink' isn't it?

*rolls eyes*

Society is alas going to get even more lawless and even more stupid.

I've just been told that possibly those very same kids, and quite a few girls too, were in and around the off licence last night calling the Asian proprietor every racist term they could think of. When one woman intervened saying they should be ashamed to berate a man like that, especially the girls (clinging to this now sadly extinct notion that girls today are still the fairer sex and ladylike) she received a volley of expletives and aggression in her direction.

Welcome to the world we've created.

Lastly, as an addendum my attention has been drawn by my friend Catt to a charitable single to help raise awareness of LGBT bullying among young people. As this blog touches upon the derogatory attitudes of some youth towards homosexuality, I thought this was an apt place to spread the word.

The band is called The L Project and the song is titled 'It Does Get Better'

You can find them here

http://www.youtube.com/user/TheLProject11?feature=watch

http://www.facebook.com/TheLProject

http://www.thel-project.com/

You can buy it and help raise money for charities to combat such behaviour from the following

http://itunes.apple.com/gb/album/it-does-get-better-ep/id496653583

http://www.amazon.co.uk/It-Does-Get-Better/dp/B006ZT3KY8/ref=sr_shvl_album_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1328919260&sr=301-1

http://www.zimbalam.co.uk/digital-music-distribution.php

Alright Pop Pickers? Not 'Arf!

2012-02-18T13:38:00.000Z

Two lovely photos of legendary DJ the late great Alan 'Fluff' Freeman modelling spectacles for snapper Lewis Morley

Had to love Fluff, just hearing those catchphrases in this blog post's title or hearing the Pick Of The Pops theme makes you smile.

He was one of the best DJ's, a great character, shame his acting was a bit naff (see Doctor Terror's House Of Horrors !)

He died in 2006 aged 79. He's still much missed.

Morning!

2012-02-18T10:00:00.002Z

Wouldn't you just love to wake up one crisp clear Saturday morning to something lovely, like this.....

The Leather Boys

2012-02-18T01:48:00.003Z

I love BBC2 in the wee small hours of more or less each Friday night/Saturday morning because they always seem to put on the hidden gems.

Tonight/this morning/right now! it's The Leather Boys from 1963, directed by Sidney J Furie and starring Rita Tushingham, Colin Campbell and Dudley Sutton.

If you're up now, switch over to 2!

Dogs Underwater

2012-02-17T19:54:00.001Z

These photographs by Seth Casteel have had me chuckling all day. I think the final two in particular are my favourites, hehe

D'awww. I love dogs!

Out On Blue Six : The Unthanks

2012-02-17T18:42:00.000Z

Folk is a genre of music that is very very close to my heart. Indeed you could say it has my heart.

One of my favourite current acts are The Unthanks, made up of North East sisters Becky and Rachel Unthank. They have a beautiful harmonising style that is both haunting and beguiling.

Here's two tracks from their album Here's The Tender Coming; the first 'The Testimony Of Patience Kershaw' is based on an actual commission into child labour in the pits during Victorian England. The written record can be found here (Number 26) http://www.victorianweb.org/history/ashley.html

Whereas the second, 'Lucky Gilchrist' details a mutual Scottish friend of theirs who died prematurely and has the delightful lyric "Lucky G full of glee, a bit like Freddie Mercury, camp and yet angry, except you had a lady"

End Transmission

They Shoot Horses Don't They?

2012-02-17T16:53:00.002Z

This 1969 film from Sydney Pollack has to be one of the most harrowing heart breaking watches of my life. It is nothing short of brilliant.

Based on the 1935 novel by Horace McCoy it concerns a disparate group of desperate people who enter a marathon dance competition during The Great Depression in the US.

The cast and characters are excellent; from Gig Young as the manipulative MC spurring them on, to Jane Fonda and Michael Sarrazin in the leads; the cynical Gloria and her last minute replacement partner, dreaming farmboy Robert. There is also incredible support from Red Buttons as the middle aged (and in denial about it) sailor Harry and our own Susannah York as Alice, an aspiring starlet.

Each character has known real hardship and suffering be it in the past (the lost loved ones in the recent Great War) or more specifically in the hard times of the present, a Depression which lasted well over ten years, in the dustbowl of America at a time which saw unemployment at 25% and its citizens living a hand to mouth existence. It is with this uncertain existence that many would enter these real life gruelling dance tournaments for the monetary prize and the fame to follow.

Fred and Ginger it ain't!

Michael Sarrazin and Jane Fonda cling together in the hope of winning

Gig Young's MC

One of the gruelling derbies

Fonda backstage in the sparse and short breaks

Susannah York

Fonda as Gloria: 'Help me'

Susannah York's Alice teetering on a breakdown

John...They're only dancing

The final words, and I won't give it all away, Sarrazin numbly offering up the title "They shoot horses don't they?" is at once both chilling and utterly poignant.

It's the kind of movie that once seen remains with you forever. The kind of movie Hollywood excelled in in the late 60s and throughout the following decade; the kind of movie that told you the truth without flinching.

It's natural to be aghast by the events depicted in the film, and wonder how we allowed them to happen in a supposedly civilised society and time not too long ago in our collective conscious. But ask yourself this; is it really any different to the reality shows we witness on TV now, in a similar time of economic slump and depression? All those endless series of Big Brother and The Biggest Loser, The Bachelor and Britain's Got Talent, and anything that can be traced back to the biggest MC of them all, Simon Cowell?

I think not.

The Rise of the Idiots has brought us back to viewing our fellow citizens as spectacles to cheer or jeer at. Shame on us really.

The near forgotten Welsh band Racing Cars that took the film and it's title as inspiration for their biggest hit...

http://youtu.be/n3GM0GM4fW4

Tiffany Jones

2012-02-16T21:58:00.005Z

Tiffany Jones was the Daily Sketch/Daily Mail and internationally syndicated comic strip heroine created in 1964 by all female comic strip team Pat Tourret (art) and Jenny Butterworth (scripts)

It concerned the various scrapes of Tiffany, a swinging sixties 19 year old pert, lively and hip Shrimp style model.

I'm a great admirer of Tourett's clean and delicate lined drawings and thought I'd include a few examples here.

Actually that last one there, does anyone else think Tourret has clearly modelled Tiffany on Profumo and Rachman Femme Fatale Mandy Rice Davies?

Yeah? Only just occurred me.

Anyway, moving on....

The strip even spawned a feature length movie spin off in 1973 directed by Pete Walker (House of Whipcord, Die Screaming Marianne) and starred 70s dollybird actress and auditionee for Jo Grant in Doctor Who, Anouska Hempel in the titular lead, as well as one of my all time faves and occasional email correspondent (oh yeah the people I know) the lovely, legendary Ray Brooks.

Typical of Walker's lighter work, it is essentially a soft core 'comedy thriller'. He only really made two types of movie really; sex comedy or sex horror!

Hempel, now Lady Weinburg and a hotelier and designer of international acclaim, bought the UK rights to this and another of her films (Black Snake from the same year) in 1998 effectively blocking any screenings, transmission or commercial releases. To say she's not proud of it would therefore be an understatement!

There are however ways of getting hold of it even now.

Art For Art's Sake : My Drawings and Paintings.

2012-02-16T17:29:00.001Z

Firstly an update on all things dental; I'm now the proud, and numb, owner of two fillings. Alas, my X Ray last week showed up that I need two more fillings too, and have booked in again in two weeks.

Anyway, it wasn't as bad as I recalled/expected. I hardly felt the injection and because both teeth were on the same side, my entire mouth isn't numb. Which is a blessing.

Now, to business...

Two Western icons to share today both captured in paint.

Kris Kristofferson as Billy The Kid in Pat Garrett and Billy The Kid

Clint Eastwood as The Man With No Name from The Dollars Trilogy

Two Dreaded Days In One Week

2012-02-16T13:05:00.003Z

First there was Valentine's Day *shudders*

Now, there's today; my date with the dentist in just under two hours for two fillings *shudders even more*

Hate it hate it hate it. As I said in last week's blog entry 'Is It Safe?' regarding the check up; I hate the injection, I hate the feeling of shrapnel bouncing across my tongue as they work at the damaged teeth, but most of all I hate that horrible numb, tingling feeling that will be where my mouth should be for a couple of hours.

I do however like that red coloured fluid they expect you to rinse with, which I take a craft swallow off hehe!

And I like how it gives me the excuse to share this teeth related interesting book cover from the 60s for Len Deighton's conman novel, Only When I Larf

Any Excuse

Oh well, wish me luck yeah? I think I'll lie back and think of this (thanks Michael for the 'introduction' in the reply to my previous blog)

Again, any excuse

My Random Infatuations

2012-02-15T22:59:00.000Z

I've watched this five times now, I still don't know what squall is, I just know Laura Tobin is lovely *sighs*

The Man On The Roof

2012-02-15T21:38:00.002Z

The Man On The Roof, or Mannen pa taket to give it its native Swedish title, is a 1976 film directed by Bo Widerberg. It is based on the novel The Abominable Man from the Martin Beck series of Swedish detective thrillers by husband and wife writing duo Maj Sjowall and Per Wahloo. Together they wrote ten novels in all spanning ten years from the mid 60s to the mid 70s, collectively known as 'The Story Of A Crime' The novels have been adapted and used as inspiration many times for the screen up to and including a recent Swedish TV hit of some years standing, and a US adaptation of their novel The Laughing Policeman from 1973 which relocated the action to San Francisco and starred Walter Matthau. However it is this adaptation that is still to this day the second most successful Swedish film ever and a winner of two Guldbagge Awards (Best Film, Best Actor)

The plot is, at first glance, a simple one; a policeman, recuperating in hospital is disturbed by an unseen intruder and brutally and repeatedly stabbed to death by a bayonet (pigs blood was used for the effect as Widerberg deemed the fake blood insufficient) Martin Beck, a weary and unhappily married family man investigates alongside his colleague the hapless Einar Ronn. During the proceedings they discover the murdered policeman was known for brutal and sadistic methods, but the corrupt and lazy station house he operated from turned a blind eye. They discover the murderer killed for revenge, in memory of his wife, a diabetic who fell into a coma in the street and was picked up by his the policeman as a drunk, ignored and died in her cell.

This type of story is indicative of Sjowall and Wahloo's writing; as Marxists they didn't just concern themselves with the crimes viewed by the law and society, but the crimes made in society from government and poor management from those we are meant to look up to.

By this time however, the murderer has positioned himself on a rooftop in the city of Stockholm, Charles Whitman style, and is taking pot shots with his automatic rifle at the citizens, and anyone official who tries to stop him, down below. One memorable scene even sees him shoot down a police helicopter, sending it crashing into the tube way entrance on the street below.

A tight, claustrophobic film, The Man On The Roof alternates between a standard police procedural, a social critique and an action movie. Indeed, Widerberg was inspired to make it from viewing The French Connection, and this movie has much in common in terms of realism and the dangerous shoot out and chase that occurs in that film's middle section.

It's easy to see what turned around 750,000 Swedish citizens on to this movie upon it's release, for one they were already fans of the successful books and secondly, they were probably invigorated to see something that could take on Hollywood. It probably made a change from the usual Bergman movies!

As a reader and fan of the books myself, this film is rather pleasing. There are some discrepancies; of course the characters never quite match up to those in your head, but the film's Beck played by Carl-Gustaf Lindstet (a comic actor cast against type as the serious film lead after Widerberg saw him on live TV with a solemn expression, unaware the camera was observing him!) is a little too old, whilst Sven Wollter's Kolberg is too much the natural capable action man rather than the fat policeman of the book.
My own favourite character of the series, the Gene Hunt like Gunvald Larsson is here played by Thomas Hellberg. He scores on making his character brusque and off hand and something of a dapper dresser, but he's too short for the role.
Folke Hjort's Mellander is only briefly seen and rather rotund, whilst Haken Serner makes a convincing Ronn, and just as well for it was he who bagged the Best Actor award.

It's rarely seen on these shores, but it can be picked up, if you look in the right places (make sure subtitles in English are included, unless you're blessed enough to speak Swedish) It is worth a watch, and takes it's rightful place among fellow superb 70s policiers that our American cousins churned out at the time.
And without it, or Sjowall and Wahloo, there'd be no Wallander, no Forbrydelsen aka The Killing, no Girl With The Dragon Tattoo and no Harry Hole thrillers by Jo Nesbo.

Out On Blue Six : John Martyn (and Art for Art's Sake)

2012-02-15T18:17:00.002Z

It's no secret how much I adore the music of John Martyn and I make no apologies for sharing some more of the big man's work, tonight.

Starting with Sweet Little Mystery from 1980's Grace and Danger (listen out for the backing vocals of that album's producer and John's mate Phil Collins)

And then three songs on one video, Smiling Stranger, Big Muff (*gigglesnort*) and Dealer all from 1977's One World

And a drawing in charcoal of him by moi...

The Out On Blue Six Programme hopes that The British Space Empire has enjoyed these sonic installations of sound and character.

Normal Service to be resumed in T Minus 5 and counting.

End Transmission.

It's Just A Hat

2012-02-15T14:57:00.001Z

Firstly, I make no claims in being remotely fashionable or fashion conscious.

Let's get that out of the way.

Secondly, it was a bloody cold day and an awkward hurried photograph on my mobile taken with head bent forward. Please bear that in mind when viewing the photograph included in this post... I don't normally look this creepy or indeed this fat!

Let's most definitely get that out of the way! Please!

Anyway, the thing is, at the time of year up here in the great frozen North, it's bloody cold (who knew?!) so I've taken to occasionally going out doors in a hat. A hat I purchased on my last holiday in Yorkshire, from a market stall in lovely little Pickering to be exact, during their Vintage War Fashions Weekend.

It's amazing how hats are viewed.

There are certain quarters I can happily go about in in my hat and no one will bat an eyelid, the student end-Bold Street and beyond- of Liverpool where I occasionally go drinking for example.

But there are some areas-around Liverpool One say-that positively warrant huge double take attention from people I pass by.

Why??

It's just a hat right?? Why the attention??

Ok, I've spoke enough, time to show the hat - and again bear in mind all I've said at the top of this post.

Ready?

Here goes...

Go on, be honest. I can take it...I think!

Anyway as an addendum to yesterday's anti-valentine's rants and the pondering on whether being a couple of being alone is the way forward, I'm reminded of this from the great Larry David

I think that's the conclusive word on the subject don't you?