"This year’s most-wanted ornaments include weight-loss syringes and favourite foodstuffs. When and why did Christmas trees become so commercialised?"
Christmas Links #11
"This year’s most-wanted ornaments include weight-loss syringes and favourite foodstuffs. When and why did Christmas trees become so commercialised?"
Christmas Links #10:
Doctor Who at Christmas.
The First Doctor
The Sixth Doctor
The Eighth Doctor
The Ninth Doctor
The Tenth Doctor
The Eleventh Doctor
The Twelfth Doctor
Spin-Offs
Christmas Links #9
Christmas Links #8
Christmas Links #7
Christmas Links #6
Odeon Manchester Trafford Centre
Film For Now You See Me: Now You Don't. Adequate film well screened. Was originally a UCI and judging by the layout (six screens on one side, the rest on the other) has been expanded since. The IMAX was added in 2013. The Trafford Centre is a really horrible place to shop. Frederic Jameson would have loved it (history link).
Christmas Links #5
Christmas Links #4
Christmas Links #3
Christmas Links #2
Christmas Links #1
Deadly Strangers.
Audio Hello. We'll get to the one(ish) line reviews in a moment but your writer has been trying to get to grips with what we're supposed to consider series or lines at Big Finish in recent years. Here follows a rant about numbers. The Eighth Doctor Adventures are now covering three distinct eras: the gap between Seasons One and Two of the original Monthly releases, the continuation of the story thread which began with the Lucie Miller adventures, continued through Dark Eyes and the Time War. Except the spine labels on the boxes flow between the first and second eras and even then without really making much sense.
Here's a rundown (which could be a list but I don't want to mess up the blog's formatting). They begin with the stand-alone Liv and Helen stories apparently set in the final moments of Stranded (between the TARDIS leaving and returning), What Lies Inside? (1) and Connections (2). But then there isn't a new sequence for the new strand of Audacity and Charley stories. Audacity and In the Bleak Midwinter are given (3) & (4) presumably because they share the same release months as the previous boxes. But then Echoes (more Liv and Helen) which came out the following May is (5) and finally Deadly Strangers and Causeway are (6) and (7).
All of which means if you want to keep the boxsets in continuity on your shelf, you're left with a number sequence which is all over the place and equally, if you stick to this number, the Doctor's portrait on the top shifts between TV Movie and Dark Eyes faces. Us Doctor Who fans (and U.S. Doctor Who fans) are quite used to spines on media releases not matching (apart from the BD releases so far which still sport the Whittaker logo despite us enjoying a whole new era in between) but this feels like a very weird choice, especially since they're being created by fans for fans.
Unless both strands are going to dovetail at some point. Despite the pictures on the box, I'm still not unconvinced that these stories aren't going to be revealed to be set after The Charlotte Pollard Adventures with Eighth and Charley reunited somehow. As I've said before, she sounds more mature and there's a moment in one of these stories where they talk about Ramsay the Vortisaur as though he's a distant memory which doesn't make sense given the context in which he's mentioned in the second original series. Something very strange is going on here.
Puccini and the Doctor
Which could just as easily have been called Unfinished Business since it's exactly that for both the Doctor and his writer for this adventure, Matthew Jacobs, who wrote the TV Movie with the Pertwee logo, oh so long ago. It's a celebrity historical in which the Time Lord meets the composer again before he's written some of his greatest operas and comes face to face with a creature who wants to steal and destroy humanity's creativity. Just astonishingly good. Jacobs had apparently only heard Chimes at Midnight before taking the gig, but caught himself up and then wrote this which despite using a similar method, AI never could.
Women's Day Off
Whilst highlighting a moment in women's history I shamefully wasn't previously aware of in which all of Iceland's women went on strike for a day in October 1975, McMullin's script plays not unlike something from The Sarah Jane Adventures as a young girl finds herself infused with magical powers which she can't control and the TARDIS team can only see disparate elements of the mystery in their own parts of the story until everything neatly dovetails at the end. Thoroughly entertaining, especially hearing the time ship's translation circuits giving Icelandics various UK regional accents rather than the actors affecting Nordic vowels.
The Gloaming
Almost as Route One Who as it gets, The Gloaming features an indomitable group of human survivors in suspended animation being threatened by an alien intelligence which is trying to spread itself across the galaxy. But in choosing the Mara, the writers have found the perfect monster for audio, especially the dream world which becomes two voices, one threatening, the other scared, voiced by the same actor demonstrating their range. Because the victim can't awaken without outside help, they're simply trapped there, the evil presence using their own anxieties against them. Chilling.
Placement: Between In The Bleak Midwinter and Invaders from Mars. For now.
Little Miss Can't Be Wrong.
Film The Guardian has a piece today about Kathryn Bigelow's A House of Dynamite in which Mike McCahill says various things about the film, but like a lot of critics he doesn't seem to have found the virtues I found in how the story is structured and particularly the climax, which I won't spoil for those of you who haven't had a chance to watch it amongst the firehouse of stuff released every day.
The number of film writers who've missed the point of A House of Dynamite are worryingly large. It's not a thriller, it's a character study. The repetition is the point. We're seeing the calamity through the lenses of much smaller and less knowledgeable groups as the decision on whether to retaliate ends up on the shoulders of someone who even less qualified than they are. At a basic level, don't give human beings world-ending weaponry. It's bad.
On each iteration we hear exposition and dialogue and then discover their significance as the narrative elements repeat. In the first couple of rounds, the President sounds Trumpian and incompetent. But when we finally meet him, he's an affable, smart person who is then handed the worst decision in the world at a moment's notice and has a series of near or total strangers advising him.
Which is utterly disturbing and in sharp relief to something like Fail Safe (both versions) and most of these kinds of films, in which almost all Presidents are portrayed as some kind of academic and diplomatic paragon in a fantasy world in which someone is elected based on how smart they are, which has *rarely* been the case. Unlike those films, the heads of state wouldn't immediately be on the phone with one another. The contact takes place way below the chain.
There's a terrific article in Slate by Fred Kaplan (ht, Allyn), a Pulitzer Prize nominated author of a book about just this subject which offers much greater depth on how realistic the film is and if anything it's even less terrifying than the situation we're in now when all of the key positions shown in the film are filled with people whose only qualification is they're willing to tell the President what he wants to hear all of the time.
But my overall point is that a lot of critics have missed that it isn't a traditional Clancyesque thriller. They've gone in expecting The Sum of All Fears or By Dawn's Early Light (which shares a similar story) and been disappointed. It's an "art house" film wearing the trappings of a mid-budget Summer blockbuster which asks the viewer to make a psychological leap beyond what they expect it to be into what it is.
Odeon Harrogate
Odeon Glasgow Quay
Film For Good Dog. Some way out from the centre of Glasgow, a bus or metro ride away, this unusually has a timeline on the wall which describes Odeon's presence in the city, Which began on Renfield Street in 1934. It's a history of the enshittification of cinema architecture and (possibly) photography from the beautiful to the functional.
Summer of the Seventeenth Doll (1959) is a real film. It was a critical and commercial failure (which is probably why you don't hear much about it now). Film Ink rake over the ashes here. I really miss proper billings on the front of cinemas telling you what you'll find playing inside. These days you either have to have an app or squint at a tiny screen behind the refreshment stand as you can see there was some overlap of about ten years between the two cinemas before the Renfield Street shuttered in 2006. It's quite strange from this distance to see the 80's Odeon logo atop the current building.
Odeon Coventry
Film For The Strangers: Chapter Two. As you know, I like to start with a picture of the cinema's frontage but Coventry's Odeon doesn't have a definitive entrance, so I decided to go with these two, neither of which is satisfactory. Once again, we're gifted with a reminder that their slogan used to be "Fanatical About Film" because a sign would be logistically difficult and probably too expensive to replace. For the record, I prefer this to the current tagline, "Make Movies Better," because, as is the case with The Strangers: Chapter Two, seeing it well projected with decent sound did not make up for its shortcomings. There were about ten of us in the screening including a couple sat at the back talking loudly even after the film started. Reader, I complained and the ushers did somehow convince them to be quiet. The cinema began operating in 1999 along with the arena it is attached and judging by these photos of the opening night, doesn't look like it has changed much since.
Odeon Worcester
Film For Downton Abbey: The Grand Finale. This was one of the occasions when it felt like I was seeing the decline of cinema-going in real time. Downton was the week's big release, and despite this being Worcester, which would seem like the ideal audience, and despite it being an early evening showing, there were only two of us in the largest screen: myself and a woman sitting at the back. The hugely attentive staff puzzled over the slightly muted, probably mono sound coming from the speakers, eventually comping both of us a free ticket. The manager is clearly very proud of the seven-screen cinema and the fact that it's one of the few surviving city centre originals. Cinema Treasures says it originally opened in January 1950 with a screening of Anthony Asquith's The Rocking Horse Winner, with the director in attendance. Frankly, it's probably my favourite Odeon so far, not least because the toilet is through a door directly in the auditorium, which meant I could still listen to the film whilst taking a whizz.
Odeon Crewe
Film For The Bad Guys 2. One of the few occasions when I've had to wait for the cinema to open before visiting (in the bar of the bowling alley next door). Watched the film alone in a large drafty auditorium with some broken seats. As you can see from this photo it originally opened as part of the Reel Cinema chain in 2005 and hasn't changed much since, right down to the yellow decor on the refreshment counter. According to the usher, this was apparently covered in Odeon blue industrial fablon after the takeover in 2011, but immediately started peeling off so they just removed the whole lot and just left it, blinding audiences as they walk in.
Odeon Birmingham New Street
Film For Together. In my memory, I stood across the street from Odeon Birmingham New Street and took a photograph, but neither my Bluesky feed or Google Photos have the image, so here's another cathedral instead. The last time I visited this Odeon was back in 1996 for Alan Parker's Evita and although it's been through a refurb since, it's still much the same place that I remember, a proper city centre cinema. Opened as a Paramount Theatre in 1937, it was sold to Odeon in 1942 and in the sixties, most of the art deco features were removed and became a eight screener in the late eighties and early nineties. Cinema Treasures has more details.