Tiers of a Clown

So, in one of the many houses of reputable conversion I frequent, there came the discussion of films, and our personal 'best' canon. This led to me telling an interested participant that I would blog about my 'Top Ten' movies. But I don't have ten, so let's call it my 'Top Tier' movies instead. One thing that became apparent as I was running through titles in my mind is that there are a whole swathe of fantastic movies that sit JUST outside the boundary. I may only have 8 or so classics, but there's probably about 25 near-classics. On with the list!

Primer



This is a movie that will make you think. Like a cleverly structured puzzle box, it has many interlocking pieces that need turning over in your mind, sliding aside to free others. Shane Carruth pretty much came out of nowhere with his idea for a story about discovery and invention, and the people unprepared for it. He takes no prisoners, with extremely colloquial, naturalistic, elliptical dialogue, even when key plot information is disclosed. Nobody here is talking for the audience's benefit. And when combined with phenomenally natural performances - from guys who have never acted before - the effect is incredible. It is real in a way no other film captures. But it's challenging to keep up.

Add to that a plot where great swathes of cause and effect have ceased to exist, are never shown on screen, and have to be grasped through extrapolation, and you have a challenge. You cannot relax with Primer. You could not watch films of this kind all the time, without being a savant. But when you want something that will occupy every strand of your mind for hours longer than its running time, Primer is the film. As my brother said, it's a 4 hour film in 70 minutes.

It's not a cold, cerebral affair, though. Carruth came into the project to make a film about two guys, and their relationship. Their trust and friendship, and how it is affected by a paradigm shift in their reality. Again, no concessions are made to the audience. There's no soliloquys, no impassioned speeches writ large, no swelling orchestral score. But for all that, the subtle, understated emotion is truer, and more affecting.

It's also beautifully shot and produced, all by Carruth, who is apparently Leonardo Da Vinci reincarnate. I give it the highest recommendation, but only if you want a film you have to put effort into to get enjoyment back. And don't seek out plot information before you watch - It's not a twist ending film or anything of that kind, but it's about growing discovery and dawning realisation, and this atmosphere is perhaps hurt even more by spoilers than any shock twist would be.

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Chinatown


Chinatown is pretty much a perfectly constructed movie. It's a plot movie, all about the story, but it perfectly crafts every aspect - visuals, sound, pace, performance - to tell that story in the most compelling way possible.

That story is a great one. A truly cinematic story, that gives itself over to powerhouse performances of its characters and striking visualisations of its bleak landscapes. It's a story about the brutality of those with power to those they hold power over - brutality more subtle and more destructive than physical violence - and an unanswered question about those who turn a blind eye, all symbolised by Gittes' old Chinatown beat that gives the film its name.

It is not, however, a relentless film. It's a film that finds warmth where it can in a cold and cruel world, and seizes it - and the warmth between Gittes and Mulwray triumphs over its context in a truly, ah, warming way. It has humour too, particularly in the wry observations and actions of Gittes himself.

Nicholson lives up to his reputation in the role of the PI who knows he should look the other way for his own sake, but can't beat his own good nature. I have seen neither the Shining or Cuckoo's Nest, but this, at least is a performance worthy of remembrance.

Faye Dunaway gives as good as she gets as Mulwray, and there is genuine energy in the scenes between her and Gittes. Their relationship goes through a vast sequence of twists and turns, and at every point the progression feels true and the place they are at resonates.

John Huston appears fleetingly, like Lecter in Silence of the Lambs, and also like that performance, he is vividly memorable and a dominant performance in just brief appearances. A compelling moral study, he is abhorrent, perhaps a monster, but one understands that he simply does not see the world the same way as we do. He is no monster in his own eyes. Huston provides a window onto understanding of that morality, and is intriguing for it.

I won't enumerate more cast members. There really is no dropped ball. The cast is as universally strong as the production. It's all about the story, and the story is superb, but the immense strength of every element behind it is what gives it such impact.

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I have more movies to discuss, but I realised how long this was getting, so I'll do it in several installments. Be on the lookout for the next thrilling edition!

If You Believe There's Nothing Up My Sleeve

Moon slipped by the popular consciousness rather quietly; I'm not even sure what it was released against, but it didn't make any big news. It got a few mumbles because director Duncan Jones is David Bowie's son, but these were mostly years ago, when it was first gathering momentum. As such it joins a pantheon of low-budget, high-concept, under-the-radar sci-fi movies that are really, really good.

Whilst not quite a one man show, Sam Rockwell is at the center of events, and the film's success rests on his shoulders. It must have been a treat of a part to get, providing some unique challenges, and Rockwell rises to them admirably, allowing one to become entirely embroiled in the conceit of the story. It's not always the most subtle of performances, but it's real and slightly, surprisingly, heroic. By the end Sam has not only our sympathy, but our cheers.

None of which is to dismiss Kevin Spacey, whose contribution is more understated, but wholly neccesary and pitch-perfect. In a manner which will remind the majority of HAL 9000, he imbues the robotic Gerty with just a hint of constrained emotion.

Gerty itself is a total coup on Jones' part. Whilst most will focus on Rockwell's character, there's is a great depth of interest in his mechanical companion. The design is ingenious: A chunky boom arm suspended from ceiling rails, with effector arms on seperate units, there is no semblance of humanoid silhouette at all. A tiny little LCD screen is the token attempt to create a human bond, displaying a smiling emoticon which briefly flashes other symbols when it wishes to express something. Whether Gerty is nothing more than a machine with a contrived display of humanity, or whether the strained companionship represents something human which is constrained by its medium, is an intriguing question.

Still, fascinating as it is, the question is essentially a sideshow, whilst the plot proper is concerned with Sam. There's not a great deal of story - it could be summed up in a paragraph - instead Jones is content simply to set up his concept and follow it as it unfolds, with events only falling into a more paced narrative toward the end. It's exploration and character examination, not SF thriller.

It's also pleasingly, if mildly, subversive. Halfway in, the film has a very familiar feel to it; it might almost seem like a pleasing blend of derivations, a variation on an old theme. But then threads go in unexpected directions. Not shockingly so - This isn't a Christopher Nolan flick - but enough to be refreshing.

Indeed, that is the ultimate feel of Moon - Not shocking or extreme, never coming on strong, but content to be subtle, and to subtly wander into interesting areas. Refreshing is a good description. This tonality is carried through into direction and production. The film is beautiful and serene. This is a good niche for Jones to be carving, and I await his next eagerly.

9/10

Apotheosis to the Death of Personality, and Everything in Between

"As a man, I could never have contained such forbidden truths. But each of us is so much more than we once were. Gazing out across the plains of possibility, do you not feel with all your soul how we have become like gods? And as such, are we not indivisible? As long as a single one of us stands, we are legion!"

"In the end what separates a man from a slave? Money? Power? No; a man chooses, and a slave obeys! You think you have memories. A farm. A family. An airplane. A crash. And then this place. Was there really a family? Did that airplane crash, or was it hijacked? Forced down, forced down by something less than a man, something bred to sleepwalk through life unless activated by a simple phrase, spoken by their kindly master. Come in."

The same theme, attacked from two opposite ends of the spectrum, from two of my favourite games. So a game that sits atop that spectrum and straddles the whole question, you'd expect that to go down well, would you not?

Why yes, I am enjoying Torment, now that you ask.

(One day soon I need to make an actual blog post. And also a LoK retrospective. Vae victis!)

Now You're a Hero

This week, I have been mostly playing Hero Core. Another freebie indie game that's compulsively addictive. It merges the exploration of Metroidvania with shmuppy gameplay. I'm not generally a shmup fan, but Core is far more about interesting rooms and enemies that absurd difficulty ramps. In fact the smoothly challenging curve is one of the games best features. Also has loads of replay value among its many modes. Retro art style is kinda neat, and the amusing Engrish language option is cute.


Also got hooked hard on Fringe, which seems to have a more protracted, defined arc than Abrams' Lost, which I could never get into. I hope this is the case; if things start to seem more in a general 'mysterious stuff that's never resolved' vibe it'll lose a lot of its value. Not sure I'd have gotten into the show if not for John Noble (Denethor) who is pretty much show stealing/defining as the disturbed genius Walter Bishop. Plot has some uncanny parallels with Half-Life, but it's probably just coincidence. The cases are frequently preposterous, which seems somewhat at odds with the vision of the show (or my perception of it) which seeks to try and rationalise or credibilise them. Also, one of the recurring characters is a cow.

But Can You Put Your Hands in Your Head?

So, I saw Inception on Wednesday (but there's no spoilers here). So heavily hyped has it been, I was actually quite prepared for a disappointment. Pleasantly surprising, then, to find that it was a film that deserved hype - albeit perhaps notw quite the absurd amount it has recieved.

I suppose it is this decade's Matrix, although less showy and more thoughtful than that film. It has the same high-concept/action thriller blending. It is, perhaps, too busy. I can seperate out two distinct plot threads that could have been decompressed into more elegant movies each. In fact, far more than that earlier series, here is an idea that meritted a trilogy format. Alas, this is not really Nolan's style. But even lacking that, and with the frustrating corollary that some ideas are not taken as far as one would like, it's a damned good film.

There's plenty of discussion- and thinking-fodder on offer there, but that's what everyone is talking and it doesn't need me to chime in (although I do have a personal pet theory, which I may record later). What I wanted specifically to make mention of was the visuals.

There are some jaw-dropping VFX and action sequences in the film. They're inspired both in terms of the ideas on the screen, and the thinking that has gone into their execution (I am sure some of what I saw must have been wire work, but if so it was the best damned wire work I have ever seen). And aside from this, the whole film looks superb. But here's what I really appreciate: None of it was gratuitous, for its own sake. All the action and effects were born of the concepts, and reinforced them and the story. That's really good, that's what completed the package.

It's cinematic in its truest sense - this is what cinema should be. And it may have swayed me in favour of 3D. I saw this on a pretty small screen, but wow, I would have loved to see that on an iMax in 3D.

Strongly recommended, a 9/10. (Narrowly pipped by Memento as my favourite of Nolan's films, though.)

All Possible Worlds

I always think of concepts like jars of coloured liquid. Every concept has in it a certain amount of story potential liquid. It might be the case that you have an elegantly crafted story based around a few simple premises which, for all their simplicity, afford you reams of material. Indeed, the really simple ideas are sometimes the richest. But excavating every last corner of the material might undermine the elegance and purity of concept of the story. So you revisit the concept in a later story. Here, then, is a perfectly good idea for writers to bring back good ideas. There's no rehashing, no laziness. Here is a reason predicated on getting as much interesting material into the audience's eye as possible.

Here's one of those ideas, that's really simple, but is a vast ten gallon tank of plot juice: The Holodeck. You know, from Star Trek. Concept: A room in which you can create alternate worlds in full detail. That's simple to explain, immediately grasped. And it is FULL of story concepts. You couldn't hope to cover everything it offers in a single story. There's a richness of ideas there that can only be dug into by many stories, from many angles, in many genres.

So it can't just be left to Star Trek. Here's the issue. It's a common one, I've seen it plenty of times, but here's the specific encounter that has me thinking about it right now. I just listened to the Doctor Who story 'Auld Mortality' (Review here), in which the Doctor is an author using the 'Possibility Generator' to create historical worlds for him to explore, in order to better devise his novels. It's a cracking good story, and most of the reviews have yielded to that view. And yet even the ones that are full of praise for it snark at the 'Possibility Generator' and make silly comments regarding the similarity to the Holodeck. As if it's just a stolen idea parcelled under another name.

What a stupid attitude. Auld Mortality mines a bit of the Holodeck concept plot material that hasn't - and couldn't be - explored in Trek. So such comments are ridiculous. People need to be less precious about ideas, less quick to cry rehash or plagiarism, and start engaging their critical faculties. Because maybe, far from being plagiarism or a rehash, the writer has used this concept because he's seen in it the potential to spin a yarn that's genuinely new. Maintaining that attitude only serves to inhibit the exploration of innovative ideas.

Doctor Who - Blue Forgotten Planet - Review

And so, the end. It's been, on the whole, a succesful season. It created a great deal of anticipation which would probably have been even stronger if I weren't listening after the fact. But I do think it peaked early and slowly weakened. Now I come to the final story, and it has got its flaws.

One of the great things about Patient Zero was the way that all the aspects of the plot had a bearing on each other, and I think this story really needed that coherency, but lacked it. The Blue Forgotten Planet Project strand had very little to do with Charley's departure, either plotwise or thematically. Similarly, Mila's story didn't really feed into the departure in the end. On top of that, some of the interesting aspects set up by the season just disappear. Mila, we are told, has spent so long with the Doctor she's become an ersatz-Charley, rather than the creepy stalker she was in Patient Zero. Far better it would have been to see the transformation, rather than just hear that it happened during off-screen adventures (and indeed, the change does not ring true as presented, her seeming absolution and acceptance at the end feels off as a result). Likewise, Charley's infection has been cleared up by the Viyrans, when more mileage could have been gained from that (why not have THAT be the virus the Viyrans are dealing with on Earth, for instance?).
A prime example of the disparate nature of the plot strands: the Doctor and Mila only run up against Charley and the Viyrans by sheer coincidence, rather than due to any of the various things that link them which could have provided a stronger tie.

There's also a disappointing tendency to set up all sorts of potentially interesting things and then make nothing of them. I already noted that Mila doesn't get much mileage, and there's various other examples in the plot. The humans are suffering from a condition where they regress to a mad savagery if they don't get the drugs they depend of the Viyrans for. But the specifics of the condition aren't really relevant - the degeneration into savages serves to provide a secondary threat for some action sequences, but otherwise doesn't drive the plot at all. It could have been anything really, a wasting disease, a disease that turned you into daleks (Oh, right), a disease that caused incredible pain, and it would have worked pretty much as well in the plot (except for the base siege action sequence, but that was largely ephemeral anyway). Slightly more is made of the dependency of the humans on the Viyrans, but even then it doesn't figure much. There's really rich ground for thematic exploration here; losing your mind is a horrible but morbidly fascinating concept, it could have been a major theme, but instead it's not really discussed. Likewise blind dependency on a higher power. Or the fact that the humans have lost all memory of the planet's past. Plenty of ripe ideas there. Ignoring the human situation, there's Charley and Mila - loads of questions about the nature of identity spring up, but the plot isn't concerned. Perhaps the one that bothered me the most was Charley's relationship to the Viyrans. She's been doing errands for them in between centures in cryofreeze, popped out to do their dirty work then returned to oblivion. And the Viyran's mission is not exactly palatable. Charley is complicit in five genocides. Why doesn't the story explore that at all? It's rushed past, as, similarly, is the Doctor's breaking the web of time at the end of the story. There's a hint that the Doctor is actually repairing the web from damage somehow related to Charley's time-twisting in the first place, but it's gone before you know it. There a big consequences here, with great dramatic potential, but the play does not acknowledge them.

It seems Nick Briggs didn't want to do a story that did 'issues' though, but more of an action romp. Fair play, that worked great guns in Patient Zero, and for the first half of BFP it does here, too. Unfortunately, the second half seems to require a bit too much technobabble and coincidence to dig itself out of it. (Most clonkingly, the fact that time travel just so happens to be the cure for the disease they've stumbled upon. I mean, really, couldn't it have been worked in any better at all?)

I'll quickly mention one last weakness, then I'll get on to the good stuff. The guest cast are pretty good for the most part, but the characters they're playing are not particularly interesting. They're distinct enough people - sometimes I've found supporting casts in stories like this blur together - but largely uncompelling. Part of the problem is that they're just bland. They could be anyone. This is a group of people who've lived every day with only a weak lifeline linking them to their sanity, and surrounded by exemplars of what they could so easily become. But none of this really seems to have shaped them, they're generic 'crisis survivor' types - the specifics of their situation don't come through in their actions and thoughts. They start out promisingly, though, and get some decent interplay early on which gives them a realism, but as the story progresses the disparity between their situation and their flat behaviour grows. In the second half they're mostly relegated to giving one sentence reactions to each plot point as it passes. Even a fairly significant death doesn't register much.

Still, as I said, this is mostly down to writing and direction, not performance. The acting in the play is pretty tight; nobody is letting the side down, and there are a fair few strong moments from multiple characters. What it really lacks, though, is interplay between Colin and India. As they're seperated for much of the story we don't really get to see them sparking off each other, and it feels missing. Their parting is imminent, so it feels like they should be playing off each other, but they're not, and the absence is noticeable. Colin and India are both on good form, but there is a feeling when, say, the Doctor is talking to Ellen and Ed that, no matter how good Colin is being, he'd be even better if it was a scene with Charley.

That said, I felt India was very good here. She plays Charley more muted than we are used to, somewhat less ebullient due to her new existence as a worker for the Viyrans. She comes off as knowing, a bit jaded, but still Charley - not cynical and depressed. And she contrasts it well against Mila, who's still bouncy and happy as ever. The only time it goes out the window is when the pair meet, and again this might be more down to the writing and direction. Unfortunately all the potential of the Charley-Mila scenes is reduced to the tedious 'No, *I'm* the real one' type bickering that's become very much the cliché in such stories.

A nod should also be made to Michael Maloney. The Viyrans are still misappropriating poor Fratalin's voice, so Maloney is back to play them, and he's very good. He makes them sound almost melancholic - they don't want to make any enemies, but they really do need to blow up this planet, and they're faintly sad about it.

Backing up the performances is some great sound design. It's a very rich soundscape that prevents the story ever becoming stagey. The music is superb, although sometimes it seems to swell up during moments when the drama is not similarly coming to a head. The voice modulation on the Viyrans adds to Maloney's already fantastic performance and complements it perfectly.

Ah, the Viyrans! The other real success of the story. They've lost a slight layer of mystery and creepiness in coming to the forefront, but in exchange they've gained the tinge of melancholy mentioned above. Their motivations, now we have a decent grasp of them, are very much alien and interesting to think about. This is one area of the play where the concepts are finally given some examination. They've maintained their intimidating qualities well. Perhaps because they don't gloat or show it off, it's very easy to believe the Viyrans really do possess some pretty phenomenal power. You can totally buy that they would, and do, scan every face of a planets population to locate a disease. Wisely, Briggs has still kept them a step removed from things though - they never have a feel of immediacy - so they still have plenty of mystique to trade on in a potential (and hopefully likely) return.

Finally, the send off itself. First of all: Charley tells the Doctor the truth, at last, and... We get NO reaction at all? The Doctor says nothing as she explains, and then the scene is interrupted by Ed and Ellen. This felt like a resoundingly missed moment. As for the actual departure, I don't know quite what I think of it. I suspect I'll need a relisten to really decide. I do think the understated ending was the way to go, though. It would have been easy to do something really big, but that has all the more chance to fall flat. When I saw the chapter title R101 I wondered if she was ultimately going to die on the airship after all! That would have been quite the twist, but it, or a similar grand exit, could easily have come off feeling overblown. I also like the way it's kept possible that it's actually Mila that has survived, which casts things in a much darker slant. I was hoping that the solution to the tangled timelines would be something clever than a memroy wipe, though, because that was always the obvious and rather predictable way out. My other issue is with the final words between them - I feel they should have been something more personal. As it was, they're something about Mila, who has only just recently become part of the arc, and I would have liked last words which felt like they addressed all of the pair's history. I don't know WHAT I think of the open endedness... It is left very loose.

Ultimately it's a story that feels like too many missed opportunities. It rides on a very strong and exciting build-up, and so it really needs to tie the various strands together satisfactorily, but it doesn't. Instead it adds new and unnecesary aspects which then pull the story apart and leave it feeling under explored. But it's well performed, it sounds great, the Viyrans are undeniably brilliant, and the first two parts are pretty exciting, so it's not a total wash. Provisionally I'd give it around a high 6 or low 7, but I haven't really made my mind up yet.

Doctor Who - Paper Cuts - Review

This is an enjoyable story, but a lightweight one. The sort of thing I can give a lazy replay to when going to bed, quite happily, but not one that's overly gripping or challenging. As has been noted, in really suffers for its placement; it fails to capitalise at all on the arc connecting the previous and the succeeding story. This seems like a huge mistake. Whilst I'm getting that BF wanted to make a distinct, standalone story to prevent the season feeling like one huge plot, they could have developed one with greater thematic links to what was going on. As it is we get a few interesting moments between Mila and Not-Gomori and little else. In addition, the get-out from the previous cliffhanger is fairly underwhelming, and the time explosion seems to have no greater significance beyond spreading the viruses as we already knew.

Still, let's take it on its own terms. First things first: It is a play of beautiful imagery. Paper warriors, walls that echo memories, tombs in space, chess games. There is an almost poetic quality to the setting here. The visuals in my head were as rich as any I've had with a Big Finish play. Better known for clever plotting than sensual flourishes, this was an unexpected pleasure coming from Platt.

On the other hand, the story isn't quite as thoughtful and smart as Platt is known for. It's a fairly ordinary court intrigue story for the most part, with a few unexpected turns mostly in the final part. I felt that the revelations towards the end were a little underexplained, not fully set up or resolved. It didn't really detract from the story, but there was a slight non-sequitur feel. There was a hint of a 'chess game' structure in the final part, with the Sazou figures freezing when it wasn't there turn and such. This could have been developed further. I've always been a sucker for the battle of wits in stories, and would have enjoyed it more if the Sazou game had been ongoing from part three onwards as a backdrop to events. On the whole it's an amiable, unassuming tale. Enjoyable without being standout.

As others have noted, there is a bit of overacting in the performances, most notably that of Sara Crowe, who is probably the weakest link in the story. The other performances are alright, though there is a distinct lack of subtlety. The Captain, played by John Banks, is perhaps the only one exempt from this, and he makes a fairly simple character feel quite real - the Captain is the best of the Draconian lot. The Prince is a bit shouty and loud most of the time, and also has an odd habit of beginning his scenes calmly, even if he was raging last we saw him. India Fisher is a bit underwhelming here. She puts in an OK showing, but doesn't bring anything of anything much to the script than what's already there, and does nothing with the interesting Mila-Charley set up. (Admittedly, based on the interviews, it seems like Briggs might have specifically told her to act exactly like Charley, which would probably left her feeling a bit stifled, one would imagine.) As with Patient Zero, Colin puts in a good showing, but doesn't hit his A game. He does have a few more sparkling lines than the previous tale, though.

Lastly, a good word for the sound design. Whilst it's very spartan, it is quite effectively so. The rustling of paper is the key sound effect of the play, and everything else is neccesarily muted to suit it. It works well, and the smattering of musical accompaniment is quite pleasant too.

My overall impression is that things might have worked better as a three part story. As it is the pace is very slow - an intentional choice, rather than a poorly structured story, but things may have felt tighter in three parts. This would have also opened up a one-part story in order to explore Mila-Charley a little more, perhaps having Gomori accepting his ride home to Mila's chagrin, setting up a little three-hander in which Mila shows a bit more of herself when she's alone with Gomori and not happy.

As such fancies might indicate, I am a little disappointed with what was actually delivered, but as noted, it isn't so much an inherent problem with the story that prompts such, but rather its unfortunate positioning. Taken alone it's a lighthearted bit of fluff, enjoyable and very much listenable, but largely unremarkable save for some striking visual imagery. 6/10

Doctor Who - Patient Zero - Review

So, the Doctor is finally confronting Charley about her secrets. There's no way out now! Unless, of course, she suddenly collapses from a mysterious virus. Thus begins the end for Charlotte Pollard, as the Doctor heads to the mysterious Amethyst Station to try and find a cure...

And it's really rather exciting! It definitely has a bit of a 'series finale' grandeur feel to it. It's not a wholly self-contained story, either, but part one of a mini season that looks as if it will all be one long story, in essence. Everything's scaled up, the stakes feel really high. There's a lot of edge of your seat moments.

The appearance of the daleks isn't one of them. Why, oh why, must Big Finish put them on the front cover of every release they're in? It utterly undermines the work the writer puts into their reveal if BF are going to broadcast them in advance. OK, so they sell discs. But the stories WITHOUT daleks sell well enough that surely you could avoid slapping one on the cover just for once?
The other problem with the daleks is simply that... Well... They're daleks. Again. It's only two stories since the last lot. And that one wasn't very good. Big Finish are seriously grindind them into the ground... And there's more next season, too. Dalek fatigue is setting in.
Partially because of that, it was surprising just how good the daleks are here. They're well integrated into the plot, and their story ties into Charley's departure arc. Plus they're not the lacklustre cut-out daleks that populated Enemy the other month. These are real daleks. They're ruthless, terrifying characters. A scene in which the dalek commander blackmails the Doctor is devastatingly effective.
As well as this, we have actual characters among the daleks now. The dalek commander is the epitomal dalek. Utterly relentless, single minded and destructive. The Time Controller on the other hand reinforces the idea that the daleks are actually phenomenally intelligent creatures. A calm, intellectual dalek, he monitors the web of time to maximise the daleks' devastating potential across the continuum. The story is very succesful in portraying the Time Controller as conscientious, intelligent, unwilling to kill the Doctor whilst blind to the consequences, without making him any less of a dalek. He is just as threatening, just as malevolent, but in a more sinister, more thoughtful way that contrasts the Commander.

The other hook is those mysterious Viyrans. We've known about them for a while now, and yet we really don't know anything about them at all. And we still don't! This isn't really a Viyran story, their part is fairly small and late in the game (although their presence is felt throughout). One gets the feeling that Blue Forgotten Planet will be their story. This is just a reminder, to reinforce their existence, hanging over proceedings. To remind us that something is up, and they will be along to fix it one day. And it won't be pleasant.
They're not quite so creepy here as they were in Mission of the Viyrans, but then that story was a horror, whereas this is more action orientated. They're still pretty unusual though, and they definitely come off as being intimidating foes. Quite the enigma, and still rather unsettling - The notion of having them speak only with other characters' voices is a coup. I'll be looking forward to hearing more of them.

Moving down the scale of alien-ness we have Fratalin. A memorable and well realised character from BF, he's made up of 800-odd seperate little selves which can fuse into larger ones. All of them share his voice and personality, but they're not a hive mind, so they can talk amongst themselves.
Fratalin himself(s) is on the surface quite a nice fellow. He's very calm, pleasant in demeanour, and very patient with people. He's also utterly, unshakably dedicated to his cause, which leads him to put the Doctor in some rather unpleasant situations.
Maloney plays him well, there's a real sense of rock-and-a-hard place when he's forced to do some difficult things in service to his conviction. He seems genuinely saddened and apologetic when he is forced to place Charley's wellbeing below the sanctity of his duty. He also inflects the generally calm and reserved character with a strong sense of desperation during the growing tension of part two, as the Doctor desperately tries to force him to abandon his calling. His reaction to losing some of his 'familiars' similarly does well at fleshing out another emotional side of him. It's not a masterpiece performance of great range, by any means, but a solid showing that backs up a good character concept.

The other non-regular character is Mila, and she's an odd one. As a character there's a lot of potential here: She's deranged by two very different ordeals. Sociopathic yet seemingly quite innocent. Possessed of quite phenomenal power to exact vengeance, but apparently not particularly vengeful. And later on, she begins to slide into a different personality altogether.
Jess Robinson is far from bad in the role, but I felt there was potential for more. There could have been some real depth to the character, the suggestion of counterpoint emotions underlying her surface facade. Instead we get what I am sort of inclined to call the 'easy' option. The chipper-psychopath angle isn't new, and its effectiveness is not guaranteed. Here it works alright - moreso early on, when we are less certain who Mila is - but it's not spectacular. Ultimately, Robinson overplays the cheerfulness a little too much for my taste. I thought there was some potential there to have a little bit of acid underneath the sweetness, and a coldness behind the fake warmth.

As to the regulars, they're pretty good. Have Colin and India ever been anything other than pretty good together? No, I don't think so. That said, they're not at their absolute top showing. Colin is a bit more shouty and blunt than usual, and he doesn't get any really resoundingly memorable moments. The first-part cliffhanger is great, but I thought it could have been even better if Colin had been at the very top of his game.

India's a bit of a mixed bag here. Her anxiety regarding her secret seems to have tapered off somewhat since Raincloud Man. Given that we have reached crunch time, she seems to have become a little more relaxed since the last outing, which isn't exactly fitting. She's also not so good at portraying someone suffering terribly from an illness. 'I feel terrible' she says, but she doesn't sound like she does. She groans and mumbles a bit, but it's not the voice of someone who feels like death warmed up. She just sounds like she has a headache, not some monstrous space lurgy.
She's better later, though. Given reign to act a sort of alternate take on Charley she really takes off, much as she did in the Doomwood Curse. She's quite convincing as being New-Charley rather than normal old Charley. On the other hand, when she has to flick back to being normal old Charley, she seems lacking once again. The situation she's in is pretty dire, but there's no great urgency in her performance. Certainly she has sounded more worried in other stories.

As for the plot itself, it's certainly not high minded, conceptual stuff. It's big bangs and daleks and explosions in corridors. It is very fun, though. Probably the best thing Briggs has done since Creatures of Beauty (which was high concept). Everything ties up quite nicely, which is maybe the main thing. With Charley's departure, her secret revealing, daleks and viyrans in the pot it could be quite a mess. Thankfully all the elements are very much related to one another, so there's a great feeling of coherency. And for a story which is actually mostly shouting in corridors, as someone else described it, it feels quite pacy and action packed. It certainly kicks off in the latter half, and the Viyran-Dalek battles are quite exciting.

The sound design is effective, making it easy to picture what's going on without ever throwing up the confusing wall of sound that occaisionally plagues the more action packed stories. It is perhaps a little sparse, though. Sometimes that's inkeeping - it works to set the scene of this enormous, sparse, desolate clinical facility - but it could have maybe used a bit more of an interesting soundscape. Thinking back now I can't recall anything of the incidental music work. Now, I'd rather have something unobtrusive than something jarring, of course, but the really good audios usually have a few strong, memorable cues that reinforce the action.

So, that's Patient Zero. It's a very entertaining beginning to a compelling arc, that leaves me excited to hear what's next, and indeed a little intrepid. Whilst I never found myself hugely invested in her with the Eighth Doctor, she's really grown on me with the Sixth, and her departure will probably pull a few strings.
It's also a refreshingly good dalek romp, thankfully after the so-recent Enemy, and with Plague just around the corner. An 8/10. Onwards to Paper Cuts.

Doctor Who - The Beast Below - Thoughts

Not quite as out and out fun as last week's, but then, it wasn't really a 'fun' episode.

Pacing seemed off, as if it had been heavily editted, especially at the start. Perhaps the episode originally overran quite a bit?

Ending belaboured its point rather too excessively, and there was a bit of anticlimax after Amy forced the queen to press the button.

Mostly another fine episode, though, if not super-memorable.

Liz Ten (I am amazed this wasn't a pun) wasn't the *greatest* performance we've ever had, and Moffat runs the risk of making all his female characters these spunky amazonwarrior types.

Not sold on Gillan yet. She seemed to be overdoing it and pantomiming quite a bit. Actually moreso than last episode.

Smith's performance is a really odd kettle of fish. He varies between genuine and intentional self-parody, occaisionally lapsing into this sort of massively emphasised enunciation, like the language is unfamiliar to him. He needs to watch this - push it too far and the performance will seem like Smith is contriving it. BUT, if he's careful with it, I think it works well. It's like the Doctor's words feel sort of unfamiliar to him even as he says them, and he's conscious that there's a gap between his language and his self. Plus it's counterpointed by quieter, more 'normal' moments. I've noticed that in between the 'weird' dialogue, Smith's Doctor actually has the most urbane. He uses colloquialisms and talks like any normal guy, as if he's not the Doctor at all. It's the exact opposite of the overstated weirdy performance. I think in this episode he sided a bit too much on the weirdly and could have done with a bit more of the super-normal talk. (I like this weird contradiction. It is odd because it is banal.)

Based on last week's episode, and on those threads I picked from this weeks, it's still too early days to judge this performance, because none of that stuff is heavily dramatic/emotional. Seeing how he adapts to performance to the extremes will ultimately decide how good he is. (It wasn't until we saw Tennant try to handle moments of real anger that it became evident there was a big weakness.)

But then there was (quite unexpectedly) the moment in the dungeon. The Doctor, coldly telling Amy she doesn't get to make choices with him, telling her she's going home, then losing his cool and yelling that nobody human has anything to say to him. And then the follow on, in which he says he'll have to get a new name (this moment, this line, really resounded with me - divesting himself of his name, AGAIN, he is truly disgusted with himself). For me this was a moment of more powerful pain and anger than Tennant ever managed. Now I am really hopeful for Smith's Doctor, and it won't take much more for me to be sold.

The story as a whole was patchy, with odd pacing, but quite good. Maybe a 7/10 or just short thereof. Smith's performance rates higher.

A couple of sidenotes: The design work on this series seems to have been stepped up a notch even as the CGI has stepped down. Also, I like the return to the early Hartnell style of having each story end by beginning the next.

Further thoughts: The Smilers pretty much extraneous. Just there to add a creepy visual monster to proceedings. Never really serve a purpose or gain any explanation. Probably would have worked *better* without the half-smilers. Prior to that they are just creepy-humourous alternative to the hackneyed CCTV police state imagery, with the little trick up their sleeve that they're also the enforcement. Adding the half-smiler line suddenly makes more of them than their presentation can live up to.

Also, why the 'You look Time Lord' retread? This was jarringly unneccesary. Smith seemed to have trouble making it fit in, too.

Appreciated the tying into the Ark in Space timeline.

Did I imagine it, or did they boost the bass in the themetune this week?

Shock and Awe

Recent(ish) entertainments:

Bioshock - Nothing I have to say hasn't been said. Bioshock has been discussed to death. I agree with the prevailing opinion. This is the best piece of game storytelling I have ever seen. The vision is utterly coherent and manifests in every aspect of the game. The theme is intriguing; the dichotomy of moral and amoral self-interest is a refreshingly new backdrop. The characters are some of the best realised in gaming. Andrew Ryan is one of the best characters in anything. Fascinatingly nuanced, you could discuss him for hours. He passes through idealistic nutjob to moustache-twilring villain to something tragic and almost heroic. The gameplay is rich, too, and shouldn't go unmentioned, letting you tailor your own style quite pleasingly. The only off-note is that silly hacking game.

Lord of War - Odd film. Speaks of executive meddling, I think. It seems to be a mish-mash of different styles, never sure what it wants to be. Ultimately it's a sort of sardonic parody of the arms trade, but it wavers between wanting to play things straight, or amping up the ridiculous elements. The early film is the best, with 80s tunes and snappy pacing, the later parts are never quite so entertaining. There's something moderately enjoyable here, but it's a strange beast. As with Truman and Gattaca, Niccol has at least produced a polished looking piece. Also, it's a Nick Cage film, so you can probably decide whether you'll enjoy it or not based purely on that.

Carter Beats the Devil - Reading this, I was put in mind of Chinatown and the Illusionist. That's no bad thing for what is essentially a noir story about magicians. Despite the touchpoints, it largely feels like its own thing, though, with a distinct atmosphere maintained throughout.
The historical backdrop is very well researched, and you can see this has informed the setting throughout; the San Francisco of the story was very clearly defined in my head by the time I was done. Perhaps even better realised is the world of the stage magicians, and it was a wise choice on Gold's part to play them straight. Rather than try and mystify the nature of the magic shows, he lays out plainly the reality going on backstage. It sets the story apart from the other little clump of stage magic stories from the past few years, which all sought to embellish and fancify the art. In fact, learning what really went into the tricks, you get a far more genuine respect for the guys that did this stuff. Plus, I'm a sucker for historical factual content in my fiction.
Gold has a pretty good mind for characters, and the novel is well populated, but it's true that all the characters are fairly similar in their lifestyles and philosophies. When Gold branches out from the circle of people around Carter, his characters are a bit more charicature, as with the Treasury agents.
It's a good story, anyway. It has a slightly melancholy atmosphere, but punctuated with more upbeat moments that prevent it growing dreary. It does sort of meander, with an odd pacing, and soemtimes it's not entirely clear what things are moving towards. This is, I think, at least partially intentional. The structure of the story evokes a magic trick.
Therein lies the main flaw of the story, though. The story stumbles at the climax. I found myself expecting a grand revelation, but in fact the threads are untangled and stitched up at quite a leisurely pace. The ending also feels a bit sprawling, and in need of tightening up, so ultimately the last few chapters are a mite underwhelming. It's undermined through no fault of its own by skewing in very similar directions as the Illusionist in the last few chapters, too, which is unfortunate. Nonetheless, it's a good book with a great setting and a distinctive feel.
(Sidenote: It's also a book that's been rather heavily hyped, and I don't think this is to its benefit. Much like Carter himself, it is a book which wants its audience to expect little from it.)

Anathem - Wow. This is an amazing book. Speculative fiction at its most speculative. Not just predicated on a single 'What if?', the book keeps asking questions, preparing you for the next one along. It weaves together myriad theories from philosophy and the sciences, throwing in commentaries on a vast array of subjects, a whole fictional world system and clever linguistical flourishes. The depth of material here is astounding; it's a cornucopia of fascinating ideas and concepts, both real-world and fictional.
Astoundingly, Stephenson manages to deliver these ideas with great accessibility. Expecting a heavy read I was surprised just how deftly the themes and concepts are spun out. Stephenson, I suspect, has great clarity of mind, and this comes out in his writing.
The danger with high-spec fiction is that it becomes a series of ideas with no real narrative. Here, though, there is a hugely compelling story. A strong plot gives a solid through line driven by a series of intriguing mysteries, whilst a myriad smaller character arcs and sub stories spin out from it. It's an incredibly detailed word, and Stephenson mines it for compelling story material.
The other danger of such stories is that they will be dry. More than anything that was my expectation for this story. I'm fine with that, though. Brilliant concepts can hold my interest alone. What I didn't expect was the great emotional heart of the novel. Not only is it one of the most cerebrally stimulating books I've read, I was blindsided by just how much feeling there is in it. Certain moments in particular evoked more of a reaction than I am used to getting from a book. The characters are beautifully realised, and even whilst balancing his grand conceptual narrative, Stephenson never fails to devote just as much importance to their loves and hopes and dreams. A great deal of very real humour, pathos, tragedy and fear comes from the strength of the characters.
Perhaps the greatest feat is the way Stephenson has used every element to reinforce every other. An example: The protagonist worries a lot about the future. His teacher seeks to comfort him, but also to educate him. He engages him in a discussion about the future, and his worries, and begins asking why he should worry about some things, and not others. As the discussion goes on it evolves into a theoretical conversation about the ability of the human mind to assess potential futures. Instead of the character beats and the theoretical content treading on each others toes, they're feeding back and forth in a way that flows gloriously.
Along with If On a Winter's Night a Traveller... and The End of Mr Y, this is one of three books I consider to be on a tier above all other books I've read.

The Company of Friends - Review

Oh. Dear. To say I didn't have high hopes for this anyway, it managed to disappoint me impressively. A collection of one part stories featuring companions of the Eighth Doctor from various other spin-off ranges. Having not read the books or comics, I had no idea who Izzy or Fitz were, and whilst I'd previously heard some of Benny on audio, my impression of her was less than favourable. I didn't really know what to expect, but I didn't anticipate anything quite this poor.

Benny's Story - I can't stand Bernice Summerfield. The world-weary 'I have an ex-husband, I drink a lot, I flirt with all men, I have a sarcastic answer for everything' characterisation just makes me wince. I don't find the humour in her stories funny. Not remotely. That said, I know she's massively popular, so I can't really fault BF for including her. I remain baffled at her fandom, though.

Aside from Benny, the story isn't *too* bad, at first. Benny being hired to find a TARDIS key is an intriguing hook, as are Venhella's motivations. Nothing really develops though, and the story becomes more of a jumbled mess as it goes on. 4/10

Fitz's story - Not so bad. Matt diAngelo didn't really get enough time to show much of his interpretation of Fitz, but he was ok and I got the impression he might be quite good in a longer story. The plot is basically one joke stretched out, but the gag is a funny one - The Doctor is the new figurehead of a company's infomercials, but they're using his likeness illlegally. Adding a little more interest to what could have been pure comedy, there's a suggestion the company might be up to nefarious deeds. It's a decent set up, but then the plot seems to run out of material, and fills the gaps with some less well-judged humour. The cleaner, in particular, is poor. Mostly a harmless piece of fluff, with a good start if a rather empty finish. 5/10

Izzy's Story - This is the real dealbreaker for me. This is the story that made me regret a purchase for the first time pretty much ever. The plot, such as it is, is the most cliche, worn out, stereotypical parody of comic book fandom you can imagine. The kid's show 'Arthur' did this story some time in the late 90s (and they did it better). In a couple of places it even becomes, if not offensive, then mildly sigh-inducing. The 'geek' character with thick glasses and bad skin is an image most people have moved on from in the last decade (the fact it's not being played straight doesn't make it any less groan-worthy), and, worse, Izzy asserts that the Courtmaster can't be female because s/he has a female lover - and the Doctor explains that Eugenia is a man's name on the writer's planet, seemingly accepting completely the truth of Izzy's assertion. I thought this was going to be a jab at Izzy's childish naivety, but no, apparently girls can't have relationships with other girls. I mean, I'm not going to be writing to the Daily Mail about this any time soon, but it did have me arching my brow for a moment.
Unfortunately, the story isn't helped by Jemima Rooper's performance. Perhaps simply playing to script, she plays Izzy as a 7 year old. In fact, not even that. She plays a character who is loud, excitable and childish in a way NO real person ever has been. Once more, I'm baffled by the love for this character and this performance. I can see what aspects about Benny people go for, even as they put me off. I can't imagine what people see in Izzy here. On the other hand, I could believe that both the character and the actress are being dragged down by the other elements of the production, so I will give them the benefit of the doubt as regards their merits in other work.
For my money, the joint worst story in the audio range, along with 100 Days of the Doctor. 2/10

Mary's Story - The only really redeeming tale on the disc. The idea that the Eighth Doctor travelled with Mary Shelley is quite intriguing; they seem like they'd make quite a pair. Indeed, the Eighth Doctor seems like he'd spend a lot of time hanging around with people from this era generally. The story finally throws off the air of silliness that pervaded the rest of the collection, and has quite a harsh, stressful atmosphere. This works well. In general it's quite a nice character piece, and does a lot with a few allusions dressed on a single point in a much larger plot. There's a couple of weaknesses, but they're not too bad. The lightning ressurection is pretty macguffiny, but with these shorter stories there's not much scope for anything more. Also, the historical characters end up rather undermined (excepting Mary herself). There's so many of them, each only gets a couple of lines, which, coupled with the slightly preposterous actions they take, leaves them seeming a bit hard to credit, which is a shame. Still, quite an enjoyable little tale. 7/10

Unfortunately, it's not enough to save the collection overall. The whole set I'd rate at about a 4/10. The worst of the anthologies.

The Angel of Scutari - Review

When this trilogy format showed up for Big Finish I wasn't sure what to make of it. I thought we might be losing out on good standalone stories and getting only serials like Key 2 Time. But I've sampled my first one (I skipped K2T based on reviews), and if they're all like this, I consider myself corrected. Not a trilogy at all, but a genuine mini-season, it really feels like a little season of episodes.

Spanning the Magic Mousetrap, Enemy of the Daleks, and the Angel of Scutari, it delivers the whole range of stories.

The Magic Mousetrap is a 'season opener' that reintroduces us to Ace, Hex and the Doctor, and gives a definite sense of a shifting equilibrium. It's also the weirdy mind-bending episode of the series, and the human sci-fi story. I had been avoiding getting my hopes up, after hearing Forty-Five hailed as a classic and being disappointed, I was worried the same would happen here. After the first part I was still bracing myself for a disappointment. But, no, this genuinely is a minor classic, one that shows the McCoy team are at the best they've ever been and gives them loads to play with. A great opener that sets the 'revamped' tone of these mini-season.

Enemy of the Daleks is less exciting fayre. It's popular with some but I found it really rather poor. It's a future-set, alien world, base-under-siege story. It's also a subpar dalek runaround. With the surfeit of daleks coming around lately they really need to be far more even than a trad runaround. This isn't even that. Noisy and boring. The first episode has some promise but it's never met. The one highlight is Hex. The season is very much an arc for his character, and his scenes are fantastic. They lead us nicely on to...

The Angel of Scutari. Rounding out the series, with a definite sense of 'finale', a pure historical character drama, featuring Florence Nightingale (and, for rather less reason or effect, Lev Tolstoy).

I listened to this one last night and really enjoyed it. Big Finish seem to do some of their best work on pure historicals, and McCoy in particular gets great ones. The Settling, No Man's Land, and now the Angel of Scutari.

I've really become quite interested in Hex since the Settling, and his arc in this mini-season is one of its biggest selling points for me. I didn't much care for Enemy of the Daleks, but I did love Hex's scenes. This is really Hex's play, though, and I found it at its best when we followed his adventures in the hospital. Philip Olivier is a fantastic actor, one of Big Finish's best bits of casting.

The non-Hex stuff wasn't quite so thrilling. It seemed a bit of an empty aside. Ace and Tolstoy felt quite similar to some of Ace's stuff in Colditz, and the Doctor just seemed to be ferrying between his cell and various diplomatic meetings to no real ends. That said, they didn't drag, I enjoyed the scenes, they just didn't seem to be firing on all cylinders like Hex's story.

As for the historical content, I just happened to have read Flashman at the Charge recently, so it was more engaging than it might otherwise have been. I can see how, if you weren't aware of the details, it might be a story that left you a bit cold. However, having been filled in on the details (and even introduced to Willy Russell) by the inimitable Flashy, the setting was a delightful surprise. (I confess I'd thought Scutari was going to be an alien planet or something - my geography is terrible - so a Crimean pure historical was a most unexpected pleasure.)

A great story, BF's run on historicals continues without wavering, and a fantastic story for Hex that ends a fantastic season for Hex. And it really did feel like a season. Now I'm dying to hear the next one, and I only have six months to wait. I feel sorry for those chaps who've already been waiting for eight!

The Magic Mousetrap - 8/10
Enemy of the Daleks - 5/10
The Angel of Scutari - 8/10

Still to come (honest), Anathem, Bioshock, and the return of TV Who. Still need to get my thoughts in order about that, though.

The Doomwood Curse - Review

In case any Taminoites read this, I'll note there are some mild spoilers, and you may be able to piece together the revelations early if you read this, but it's not going to ruin anything.

I don't usually write reviews of the Doctor Who audios up purely because I go through so many, they'd crowd everything else out. I happened to have written a short review elsewhere though, so I'll repost it here. This one's interesting and quirky enough to merit attention. By no means a high-concept, mindbending story, but a bit unusual.

The story is a psuedo-historical featuring Dick Turpin, who hadn't previously recieved Who treatment, but the quirk is that it's also a 'psuedo-fictional'. That is to say, the Doctor and Charley don't just encounter the historical Turpin, but the fictional Turpin. The plot involves fiction blurring into reality, you see, and Jac Rayner (the ever reliable) had the smart idea of centering it on character who is both historical and fictional (as an acknowledgement of this, there's a nod to Robin Hood, who might equally have worked, but Turpin is a more interesting choice).

The story is fairly distinctly split down the middle - the first half is a bit of a murder mystery with peculiar goings on. The murders and the peculiarities are solved at the end of part two, however, leading into more of an action romp and a playing with the established concepts in the third and fourth parts.

The first disc (parts one and two) is suitably mystifying. It is a bit disappointing that we have the reveal of what's going on by the end of part two; I was enjoying being baffled. India Fisher really gets to stretch her muscles and enjoy herself in this one, and I enjoyed Geraldine Newman as the quasi-villainous aunt. (She seems to be channeling the old woman from Stones of Venice.)

The second disc I felt wasn't quite as good as the first. With both the murder mystery aspect and the weird phenomena aspect solved, some of the hook was gone. Nonetheless, I rather enjoyed the chase to York - it was quite atmospheric. I felt the climax was a bit rushed and not so strong, although the image of the particles making Turpin grow into a giant in the streets of York was delightfully weirdy B-movie. The Doctor and Eleanor dropping into the fiction in order to catch Turpin was a highlight. It had interesting ramifications and it was a logical progression of the plot. One other thing I felt didn't work too well was the explanation for the particles - they're explained as being a biological phenomena that alters your perceptions, but this isn't inkeeping with their reality warping properties. Of course it's all technobabble really, but I felt this particular explanation wasn't satisfying for the effects we were seeing. I also wasn't keen on the Grel, who are far too comical and pantomime for my tastes. The race, and the concepts, could (and have) been explored and developed further - but not every story needs to be high minded speculative fiction

Overall, enjoyable, quirky, and rather satisfying. 4/5

Coming soon: Bioshock, Anathem, and possibly a rant about the relationship between politics and consumerist big business.

Stop Writing! I Need More Time!

A friend of mine once gave an anguished cry of 'Stop filming, I need more time!' as a stack of DVDs mounted up so high they threatened to cause an avalanche and bury him alive. I'm experiencing much the same with books, at the moment. I bought six more at the weekend, in Waterstones' 'Books of the Decade' 3-for-2, and I could easily have bought nine. The papery precipice of tomes is looming dangerously, and not aided by my chelonially slow reading pace. I have something like 10 books on my immediate reading list, and on top of that, I really want to read Red Seas Under Red Skies (the Locke Lamora follow-on) before the third book in that series comes out later this year. Plus, I really want to avail myself of my brother's comic collection, but each time I finish a book, some internal snobbery forces my hand toward the next 'proper' grimoire in lieu of a 'lesser' comic book. Well, enough of that; once I finish A Game of Thrones, I am going to read Planet Hulk, and my inner elitist can shut the fuck up. I am going to read a series of pretty pictures showing a large green man punching things, and that is all there is to it. After that, I will probably start on Anathem, which has floated to the top of my reading list for two main reasons: One, it looks to provide an exploration of the brilliant concepts I wanted from Thief of Time, but which Pratchett was never going to have given. Two, I fear that if I don't read it soon, Sven may forget all other words in the English language.

I have now drifted wildly far of my point.

'Stop writing!' That was it. There is more to this outcry than the fear of being overcome by mounting literary rockfaces (this has already happened; there are a myriad of books out there I will never get the chance to read). It's also a plea to the writers of serials who feel the need to revisit chapters in their writing history that are already closed.

The latest offender that has come to my attention is Jonathan Stroud, who has announced work on a fourth book about Bartimaeus. He of the Bartimaeus *Trilogy*. Now, the Bart Trilogy is something I've always admired for being an example of a perfectly constructed trilogy. It contains three self-contained stories, and also a powerful arc. Stroud clearly planned everything from the beginning, and used the trilogy structure to accomplish things that couldn't have been done otherwise. And, perhaps most astoundingly, he mounted up tension constantly until a brilliant climax which lived up to the preceding build-up. But now he's adding a fourth book. I should say at this point, I am actually quite excited for this new addition. Stroud's posts on his journal suggest he has spent a long time developing it, and I'm quite hopeful. But no matter how good it is, it will still undermine that perfect trilogy structure, and that capstone ending. Perhaps for this reason I am really hoping that this story will be distanced from the trilogy, linked mostly just by Bartimaeus, and focussing on his character, either as a prequel or a well-distanced sequel. I would actually really like a historical Bartimaeus story, building on his anecdotal footnotes, but I am trying not to get my hopes up, as there is nothing to suggest that this is what it'll be.

On the other hand, there is a book I have no hope for. You've probably heard that Eoin Colfer has produced And Another Thing, the 'final' book in the H2G2 series. Almost the opposite to Stroud's latest, AAT was actually planned for by Adams, and compiled from his notes. But it has been a long time since the other Hitchhiker novels, a time in which people had moved on - nobody was really clamouring for an addition - and besides, the novels were hardly Adams' strongest output. He bemoaned writing them in interviews, and, whilst the first two form a strong suite (notably being the ones that retell the 'traditional' Hitchhiker plot), the later ones meandered in plot and quality quite badly, providing only one really notable strand: that of the hopelessly doomed Agrajag.
Plenty has already been said about this particular case-in-point, so I won't drag on. I would note, though, that I think it would have been much more satisfying had Adams' notes been given the same treatment as The Salmon of Doubt.

Poor Eoin, I am rather ragging on him, but here we go again. I am rather fond of the Artemis Fowl books. They're not perfect - in places contrived and marred by Colfer's eco-warrior agenda - but they are still some of the strongest children's books I've read. (I hold children's books in no lower status to any other, and have no issue comparing them alongside ostensibly 'adult' literature (though arguably neither Stroud nor Adams is), however the majority of children's fiction really is poor, and appears to have been written and published by people who DO feel it only needs aspire to a lesser standard.) Colfer invested the stories with added depth through the interweaving of Irish mythology, cryptography and real-world settings into his plots, as well as broadly-appealing humour and a good sense of character. There was also a refreshingly dark edge to the stories, something fairly rare among kid's books. Here was a kid with no role models and no friends, whose life was devoted to crime, with an almost sociopathic failure to notice consequences that didn't affect him. He's basically antagonistic throughout most of the first book, and still quite shady at times in the second (He SHOOTS HIS FATHER WITH A SNIPER RIFLE). Even in the third book, the supposedly straightened-out Artemis ultimately lets down those close to him.
You'll notice there's a clear character progression there. Again, the first three books form a coherent whole, clearly following a plan from the start. But then Colfer wrote a fourth book. It came out of nowhere and had to go to great pains to explain how it even belonged after the very ending-like ending of the third. Plus, Colfer seemed to have lost his touch with the characteristics that lifted his stories above the average. The humour was now pointedly aimed at children alone, the subtle dark touches eluded him in favour of a few grandiose gestures - unexpectedly killing a major character (spoilers) and bringing back a previous villain driven only by hate - undermined by an excessively nice-and-happy Artemis-and-friends vibe. Plus, the mythology and clever flourishes of previous stories had all but evaporated. It couldn't help but betray its nature as an afterthought, tacked on, forever doomed to live as a red-headed black step-sheep.
And even then, Colfer didn't stop. A fifth and sixth book have since followed, and a seventh coming soon. The fifth book was an improvement on the fourth, showing a return to the the strengths of the initial three, and ending on a surprisingly bleak note that hinted Colfer had a plan once again. (Artemis (with a missing finger) is skipped five years into the future, to find his friends and family all thought he was dead and have gone on in their lives without him.) It wasn't quite enough to make me read the next, however, as I couldn't shake the feeling that the series was becoming an endless episodic morass. (And it seems I'm not alone, as Colfer started making statements about how he wouldn't write any more Fowl for at least 2 years. (Two years which will have soon elapsed, and lo and behold, a seventh book is announced.))

The problem with all of these cases is not that they produce bad books. That is by no means a given, though it is often true. The issue is that they always undermine the serial that they have been tagged on to, sapping the finality of the ending and weakening the structure of the arc. I will offer this in the authors' defense, however: I don't believe that it is always a case of doing it for the money. Authors get attached to characters. It is a hard thing to never write for them again, after even a single story. Devoting time to an arc, which develops and expands characters significantly, is bound to instill a desire to keep writing for them.

And a final footnote (And another thing?): After twenty years, Dianne Wynne Jones has written a third book in the Howl's Moving Castle continuity. So why isn't she guilty of the same crime? Well, because her stories are more like individual episodes taking place within a continuity than they are constant appendices to a finished tale. Castle in the Air is only tangentially related to Howl's Moving Castle, and doesn't step on its toes. In fact, Jones' skill in producing a sequel which delivered what was expected of it as a sequel, and yet is quite a different and original story, is quite the talent. I haven't read The House of Many Ways yet, but I'm hoping she will have accomplished the same again. (Perhaps also worthy of note, the ending of Howl's Moving Castle always suggested that these characters, and the world around them, would go on having adventures, and thus the sequel did not undermine it in the same way as the above examples.)

Gosh, I need to find more words for 'undermine'.

Everyone's a Bastard Who Dies at the End

Snow is almost gone.

News is less depressing of late. I'm still seeing portents, but it is not the shockingly unpleasant reading of late November/eary December. I am still disatisfied with the situation, but it is nice to catch a breather, feel that things are less stultifying and impending.

Thought about writing a short satirical piece earlier, but maybe a little too close to home, a little too vitriolic. I could do to lose some cynicism. Would writing this act as catharsis and release, or would it just focus my bitterness into a gritty little pearl? Don't know. Would be nice to write *something*, at least.

Big Finish impressed me again with Nev Fountain's Omega. It may actually be *better* the second time around. There is so much hidden in here, I am sure I haven't mined it all yet. Unfortunately not one I can easily recommend to non-Who fans as with Chimes of Midnight, as it is quite canon heavy.

Was absent mindedly singing a song earlier, then thought about the lyrics and was cut to the quick. That hurt.

A few books I've read recently -

The Lies of Locke Lamora - Caper story about youthful thieves living it up in fantasy Venice, when shit gets real. Really well crafted sense of place and inter-character relationships. Pretty funny in places, too. Everyone's a bastard who ends up dead (spoilers!), but they have redeeming qualities. More on this below.

A Canticle for Leibowitz - Split into three parts. Parts 1 and 2 are incredible, Part 3 seems a little more obvious and unsubtle. Nonetheless, deeply intelligent writing, witty and pithy. A better portrayal of the division between science and religion that probably any other I have seen. This is a book I will remember in twenty years time.

Flashman at the Charge - I haven't finished this, actually. I got distracted and veered off into the above two books, and trying to pick this back up has been like swimming upstream. I'm halfway in, just after the account of the Charge of the Light Brigade. This is probably the best Flashman has been since, well, 'Flashman'. Less fantastical, more historical, with Flash getting caught up in everything whilst trying to avoid anything. I'll probably pick it up idly in a month or two and finish it in a spurt.

Currently I'm on A Game of Thrones, because I think everyone I've spoken to has told me to read it, so I decided to give in. Another fantasy story where everyone is a bastard and they all end up dead. The front cover boasts about how venomous the characters are. This is in vogue at the moment, but it's getting tiresome. Post Lord of the Rings movies, it is a good way to define an identity for your book that isn't an association with that saga, I guess. And maybe after Potter and Rings, people are becoming a little jaded toward heroic fantasy. It needs balance though. Lies of Locke Lamora got this right, portraying the disingenuous and variously unpleasant people of Camorr, but balancing it against the genuine camaraderie and friendship of the gang.

Just discovered I have to go for a medical exam on Sunday. Not for my own health or anything, but so the government can decide whether or not I'm really ill. Did I say I had caught a breather from the stupidity of the system? Hah. There's a joke.

The Year We Make Contact

I don't make New Year's Resolutions as I have no resolve, however the New Year's Resolution of my monitor was 1440x900px. In lieu of such things, here are things I'm doing, thinking of doing, and thinking I should be thinking of doing:

Finding a new flat - It's pretty clear I should be getting out. I have decided to go live in York. Now I have to find a place. This is difficult because I neither want to live alone, nor with people I can't stand, and people usually need a flatmate ASAP, and don't want to spend time making friends. Also, I am bad at people. I haven't had much motivation to do this yet.

Writing - Something, anything. My creative side is so withered and dead it is saddening. Every time I have brilliant thought I realise it's really only a brilliant concept, and I have no clue of the realisation. I have this one idea for a weird sci-fi/fairytale/folklore mish-mash thing riffing on verbal tradition and old folk stories mixed with futuristic stuff and language, but it's hard to flesh out a plot. Also plays, I am more hopeful for these. I think I may start work on my adaptation of Borges' Theme of the Traitor and the Hero soon. Been planning it long enough.

Posting - I think things, I discuss them, I intend to write them here, I don't. It's not like I have nothing to say, either.

Socialising - Won't happen til I move to York, so on with that, I guess.

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Enough of that. I have been thinking about the election recently. Is there any chance of a Labour majority? I would rather that than a Conservative win, and if I thought there were any chance, I would vote Labour in the hope of it. Otherwise I will be voting Lib Dem. I think a hung parliament with the Lib Dems playing Kingmaker is probably the best I can hope for.

Also, have you been watching Irish politics recently? It's like a Tarantino movie.

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On a related note, I originally started this blog because that ornery Irish bastard Gundrea read some of the stuff I'd blathered about gaming and said I should be throwing it up somewhere. That lasted all of two posts where I blithered on about Metroid Prime, and then I turned into a bleeding heart liberal. In honour of the humble origins of this blog, however, I will now proceed to write mindlessly about videogames once again. I actually only started really being a gamer this year, it was at most a casual distraction prior to this. The fact that this year saw me getting a high end PC and living in a household with all major consoles is not coincidental. Here then, is a year in gaming. (Games marked with a * were released this year. Games marked with a ** were released this year, but originally released earlier.) I was gonna go month by month, but I forgot when I played stuff.

Fallout 3 - This is pretty much the first PC game I actually played when it was relatively recent. So inexperienced and naive a gamer was I one year ago. With wide-eyed innocence I stumbled into the post apocalyptic wastelands, and proceeded to become a saintly swashbuckling wanderer of the wilderness, with my huge Supermutant friend at my side who WOULDN'T TAKE THE LETHAL RADIATION DOSE FOR ME THAT FUCKING GREEN WANKER. I haven't played any of the DLC but I found the world really immersive, and it hed me for the whole game. I didn't roam too far and wide, as I found the gameplay was lacklustre. Much tighter resources could have really made the game, but it was still pretty addictive as was, and the world felt very real. Also, the 50s sitcom section was inspired, and a few more touches like that would have made it a classic.

Warhammer Online - They were fixing the gaping flaws when I quit, but too little, too late. But hey, Lego Universe is going to be awesome right? No need to give up on MMOs just yet.

Mirror's Edge - I invented this game. I mean, really, seriously, I envisioned and described a game exactly like this. It was like seeing one of my dreams realised. Heavenly.

World of Goo* - Absolutely brilliant, innovative, challenging, hilariously funny puzzler. Also has a fantastic soundtrack. I only wish it were several times longer.

LittleBigPlanet - This really is impressive for its innovation and carving a new path for games. It feels like something new and exciting. And is also very fun. It's a shame the level editor sacrificed function for gimmicks, though.

Gears of War 2 - IT'S A GIANT WORM! THEY'RE SINKING CITIES WITH A GIANT WORM! That is all.

Echochrome* - Hardly anyone has heard of this amazing gem. It is based on the works of MC Escher, and allows you to mess with perspective to get places. It's really clever, an accurate realisation of Escher's pictures in a gameworld. Also nice violin soundtrack.

Half-Life 2 - Yes, that is how behind the times I am/was. I always scorned the excessive hype. That was a mistake. It really is that good. Episode One was lacklustre, but the level in the dark was very clever. Episode Two was heavenly. Where is Episode 3?

Portal - Nothing I can say hasn't already been said.

Metroid Prime Trilogy** - Alright, alright, I'll shut up about it.

Prototype* - A good game that several flaws prevented from being a brilliant game. A (badly written) review is on my facebook page.

Castle Crashers - Exactly the sort of thing XBLA needs more of. Played this local multiplayer and it was a blast.

Shadow Complex* - Oh wow, this was good. I mean, pick of the year good. Epic and Chair's love letter to Castlevania and Super Metroid (Sorry!) managed to be a crystallisation of the pure goodness in the genre. The gadgets were inspired, especially the foam gun, and the world a veritable labyrinth. Could only have been improved by a better story and acting, but the laughability of the existing one at least added amusement.

'Splosion Man* - A so-so singleplayer game that had a fantastic completely retooled multiplayer mode. The simple one-button control concept was also brilliantly realised. Fear those rising water levels, though.

Team Fortress 2 - What do you know, I actually enjoy competitive multiplayer FPS. But I can only play Scout.

Trine* - 'It's not bad. In fact it's quite gorgeous and innovative and I do intend to finish it because I'm having fun.' Apparently this constitutes a bad write-up, so I will add that it was one of the most pure experiences I've had in a long time, and the RPG elements fit right in and let you actually play to a role. Sheer unadulterated fun.

Dragon Age* - So, it's official, Bioware have perfected the fantasy RPG. If you like RPGs, you'll like this. Otherwise you won't. It's not anything other than a fantasy RPG, it's just the genre, cut and planed and smoothed and polished to perfection. And full of dicks who hate me. My only friend is a golem. FUCK YOU ALISTAIR! I DON'T NEED YOU! I DON'T NEED FRIENDS!

The Operative: No One Lives Forever - Old, this, but good. Takes the Austin Powers type pardoy 60s spy theme and runs with it, turning it into a very respectable stealth game. An underground hit that I'm surprised isn't better known.

The Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks* - Technically I'm playing this this year, but who cares? It's disappointing. It still has the basics, but the magic that made Phantom Hourglass an absolute joy is all gone. Worse, it's been replaced by the most excrutiatingly annoying mechanics ever. I am fed up of this game. The first Zelda game I've ever really got bored of before the end. Sad.

House of the Dead: Overkill* - No gameplay to speak of, but the atmosphere is so thick it's sheer fun anyway. The music is hilarious and it baffles me that the unlockable versions have no lyrics.

Plants vs. Zombies* - It's fun. That's ALL. It's not a brilliant, addictive new super craze. And zombies are really, really tired now. Seriously, what is PopCap doing to mind control everyone? Scary people.

Highlights: Trine, Shadow Complex, World of Goo
Disappointment: Zelda

Next up: Something about books. And more Metroid.

Initiate Stage Two

Just a quick note that my plan for web domination continues apace with a review over at Play This Thing! I didn't actually realise it had gone up until I checked the site today, and was caught a little off-guard since I wrote the review two months ago. This was intended to be the final draft, as I expected some sort of 'OK, we'll post a review' email first, so it's a little scratty. Somewhere down the line I'll probably submit reviews for Citadels and Blueberry Garden (which seriously needs one). I was gonna write one up for Gratuitous Space Battles, as a platform from which to discuss the strategy in strategy games, but someone's already covering that. So maybe expect to see that one here, instead. Suffice to say it's a great game which fulfils a role I've been wanting a game to fill for years. It is pretty expensive though, however it has an active community with modders and frequent dev contact. It's being patched with improvements fairly often, too.

In other news, ideas percolate around. I can't give them all the time they need. Phil Kahn got me started thinking about creating a web comic called Giant Ants, which played off British 1950s and 60s sci fi. Early Doctor Who, Quatermass, Wyndham, etc. Whilst I can see how good that has the potential to be, I don't think I am the right person to realise it. I can't hit the humour notes it requires. Still, I have other projects. I still have a platformer in development, and I had the urge to re-immerse myself in some coding recently, so that my progress. I might also hack together a proper layout for this site.

Should have some proper content up later today, or tomorrow, depending how hooked on Psychonauts I get.